by JJ King
Rose nodded, “Yes,” she bit her lip and the small familiar gesture struck Katherine deep in the gut, “and I left behind twenty-six people when I escaped. Some are children, others are pregnant.” Rose glanced at Katherine now for support.
Katherine cleared her throat, “He’s apparently been testing them for years, looking for the right girl to fulfill the prophecy. But,” she looked aghast at Anthony, “now that Raphael knows I’m the one he’s looking for…”
“He might kill the rest.” Anthony finished her sentence with an expression of horror on his face. “Fuck…” he trailed off, looking as if he were going to be sick.
“They’re dad’s children,” Teagan said quietly, his voice cracking. Katherine didn’t know if it was from anger, or fear, or frustration, but her little brother’s hands balled into fists and he looked as if he were ready to throw down. “We have to help them,” he squared his shoulders and repeated himself, “We need to help them. We don’t have a choice.”
“There’s always a choice,” Anthony shook his head, “but, I don’t think I could call myself Dad’s son if I walked away from this, from them.”
A murmur of agreement filled the room.
“What about the boys?” Daphne asked, looking at Rose who shifted almost imperceptibly in her seat. Katherine noticed and her eyebrows shot up. She’d been so caught up in the fantastic nature of this story that she hadn’t yet gotten to the specifics. Her lawyer brain needed to take over.
“He doesn’t need boys,” Rose said softly, fisting her hands. “He’s completely focused on finding the one and now he has her.” Her gaze flicked to Katherine then down to the floor.
“He kills them?” Daphne’s eyes looked like saucers in her too-white face.
“Some,” Rose nodded, “and some he raises as guards or as part of his psycho army.”
Silence reigned. No one wanted to really think about what Raphael was actually capable of. Katherine held back a shudder, she’d known he was insane, but to kill babies, innocents… it was beyond.
“Wait,” Ronan growled out the command. He frowned, looking around the room for support, “No one has asked the big question. If you’re really Dad’s daughter, then how did Raphael get Dad’s… seed?”
All eyes turned to Rose.
Rose focused her gaze on Ronan, “I don’t know everything, but sometimes when Raphael is rambling, which is most of the time, he talks about a fire and needing more samples. Does that make any sense?”
The three boys exchanged looks of surprise then turned to look at Katherine. She sucked in her lower lip and shrugged, knowing they were all thinking the same thing. Anthony was the one to respond. “Back in the thirties, Dad went to Europe on Council business and he was caught in a fire that killed close to fifty wolves. He made it out but his entire body was covered in third degree burns and he spent close to a month in a private pack hospital before coming home. The fire wasn’t an accident but they never found the responsible party. It was always assumed hunters were responsible.”
Rose looked away for a moment then nodded. “That fits,” she said, “there was a woman, Sarah, who we think was Raphael’s first prisoner. She was taken in 1939. She died when I was young.”
“What about the rest? Where did they come from?”
“All over,” Rose shook her head, “England, eastern Europe. My mother was born in Russia.” Rose swallowed and lowered her head.
“Is she…” Katherine let the question trail off when she saw the shimmering tears in Rose’s eyes.
Rose shook her head. “She died when I was really young.” She smiled sadly, “I remember her reading to me at night and braiding my hair. She died in childbirth, something went wrong,” Rose gritted her teeth and spat the words out, “It was a boy. A failure. I don’t remember a lot about that day, but I do remember Raphael taking him off her dead body and walking away with him still bloody and crying while my mother stared at the ceiling, dead.”
Katherine’s heart clenched hard and she struggled to hold back the grief that pushed at her. She swallowed it down, focusing on Rose. They knew from the tests that part of her story was true, that she was Pierre’s biological daughter. If the rest were true, if Rose had gone through what she claimed to, Katherine couldn’t help but admire her strength. She’d spent only hours with Raphael and would be forever scarred. Rose had spent her entire life with the man and had survived. The man was a psychopath.
Katherine’s stomach fluttered and a fissure of doubt invaded her mind. She couldn’t deny the possibility that maybe Quinn’s first assessment had been right, after all; they really couldn’t afford to trust Rose. The Old Ones only knew how much influence Raphael had on her over the years. He’d proven himself capable of long term planning before.
But, it didn’t really matter, did it? Rose shared their blood and she wasn’t the only one. They would have to be careful, but they would go because it was what their father would have done.
Katherine took a deep breath and looked to her brothers with raised eyebrows, “Dad would have helped, so I say we help. What do you guys think?”
As one they nodded.
She offered Rose an encouraging smile, “Then, let’s make a plan.”
♀♀♀
“I can’t even wrap my head around this,” Daphne flopped back on the bed and stared at the ceiling, wishing she could just curl up and go back to sleep. Her entire life was like a mad dream these days, anyway.
“I know,” Keme sat down next to her, his weight shifting the mattress so she rolled towards him. He twisted onto his side and lay down next to her, resting his head on his bent arm. “I mean, yeah, our world is pretty fucked up sometimes, but this is like something from The X Files.”
Daphne chuckled, “Only, we don’t have a Scully. We’re all Mulders, every single one of us. I don’t know if that’s a good thing.”
“She balanced him,” Keme mused, leaning in to kiss her softly on the nose. “Just like you balance me.”
Daphne’s stomach warmed at his gentle kiss. “That’s what mates are for,” she whispered softly and laid her lips on his. The instant sizzle between them, a bright flash of electricity that still surprised her, roared to life. She pressed her lips harder against his and reached for his hips, shifting her pelvis closer to his.
Keme moaned beneath her lips and pulled back from the kiss, “Do we have time?” His eyes looked wild, almost completely black with passion already, and hopeful.
Daphne looked him straight in the eye and rubbed her palm over the stubble she loved so much. “We’re going halfway around the world to save wolves from a psychopath who always seems to be ten steps ahead of us,” she lowered her forehead to his and whispered, “We can make time.”
Keme tilted her chin and kissed her softly, “I love you,” he licked his tongue out to part her lips and crushed his mouth to hers.
She melted into his embrace, running her hand over his side. She loved the hard ridges of his abs. He was hard everywhere she touched, and it drove her wild. Sometimes, just before she fell asleep or when her mind was quiet as she ran, she wondered if there would ever come a time when she wouldn’t love Keme as much as she did now. Her heart always came back with a concrete answer; she’d love him even more than she knew was possible.
Spurred by the reminder of how much she loved him, Daphne climbed atop Keme and leaned down to capture his mouth again. She took her time, dipping her tongue into his mouth to taste him, to breathe him in, and then she reared back and, in one motion, pulled her shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor without a second glance. Keeping her gaze locked on Keme, she raised her hips, coming to her knees above his abdomen, and ripped the panties from her body. Below her, Keme’s eyes went instantly black as night, and his mouth fell open as he hissed in a breath.
Daphne grinned, feeling more feline than wolf, and began to gyrate her pelvis, moving incrementally lower with each rotation. Keme’s eye rolled back just seconds before he closed them and moaned, beg
ging her without words to fulfill the promises her body was making.
She slithered off him and stood between his long legs, raking her eyes up and down the length of him, and approving very much of the bulge in his pajama pants. The loose fabric hid nothing. She sucked her lower lip into her mouth and reached for the waistband.
Keme lifted his hips without opening his eyes, giving her leeway to pull his plaid pajamas down to his ankles and onto the floor. Freed from any confines, his cock sprang up, and he opened his eyes. He lifted his upper body, pulled the t-shirt he’d worn to bed over his head and reached for her with a wild look in his eyes. His hands were rough on her bare hips, his fingers digging into the skin there and lifting her. Daphne braced herself on his bare chest and opened her thighs, and let him settle her throbbing core directly over his manhood.
She slid down onto him like a leather glove straight from the store, that’s just a little too small but will stretch after wear. The sensation of his thickness pressing against every single inch of her sensitive skin, made her body react. She grew hotter still and wet, making his slow, deep thrusts easier to take.
He groaned, “Oh god.” His hips set a rhythm, pushing up into her as she rocked to the same beat, grinding her clit against his pelvic bone.
Pressure began to build inside Daphne, radiating out from her center, flowing like lava to her limbs, sparking millions of tiny fires along her skin. Her thoughts got fuzzy and it felt as if she were coiling inside, every muscle in her body moving toward something unattainable.
She moved faster, lifting her hands to her own breasts and cupping them as she threw her entire body into riding Keme. His fingers dug almost painfully into her hips now as he urged her to move faster, harder. She felt it coming, fast and furious, and she lunged to meet it.
The orgasm hit her like a tsunami, crashing over her and dragging her violently under without enough air to breathe. She gasped for oxygen, shaking all over, holding onto Keme’s arms for dear life as he kept moving inside her. His breaths came in short gasps as he thrust desperately, his eyes open but seeing nothing. She ground her hips down again, despite the overstimulation, and clenched her inner muscles around his cock.
His body seized as he came. Daphne stared down at him as aftershocks raced through her skin, and noticed the veins in his neck that had bulged and threatened to burst as he raced to the finish line. She leaned down and licked his neck, tasting the saltiness there, then stilled when he gasped and held her hips steady.
“Don’t move,” he begged her.
She laid on top of him while he came down, resting her head on his chest. His heartbeat beat quickly at first, like a horse out of the gates, then, slowly, it calmed, returning to normal. She loved the sound of his heart at night, when they lay together in the silence. Daphne lifted her hand to touch the soft patch of hair that grew in the center of his chest and pressed a kiss to his skin. “I love you so much,” she whispered.
“I love you more than life,” he pressed his lips to the top of her head, lifting his hand to tuck back the hair that had grown wild during their lovemaking. “Would you stay for me?”
Daphne froze. He was asking her the impossible and he knew it. She wasn’t the type of woman to stay home and cower while her man traipsed into danger. He knew who she was and loved her for it, but still he asked. She knew it was out of love and worry. He hadn’t been lying, he did love her more than life, but she loved him the same and he knew it.
She sat up, lifted her hips, and climbed to her feet as he pushed up into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. His expression was grave and a bit ashamed but, more than anything, she saw fear in his eyes. Daphne stroked her hand over his cheek and shook her head, then said the first words that sprang into her mind. Words she’d learned from her grandmother long ago when the King James Bible had first made its way to the new world, “Whither thou goest, I will go.”
Keme frowned for a second, then his face straightened and she saw acceptance in his gaze. He nodded and reached for her, “Together.”
Daphne stepped into his arms and pulled his head to her chest, “Together.”
Chapter Four
Katherine buried her face in her brother’s chest and sent a quick prayer to the Old Ones that her brother return safe with the answers they needed. “Don’t be stupid,” she murmured, pulling back. “Stay with the guards at all times and follow your instincts, they’re pretty good you know.” At his surprised look, she continued, “Not as good as mine, but…”
Anthony grinned and the light that had been missing from his eyes sparked to life. Katherine smiled back and pushed him away playfully. It still hurt to breathe, to move, to think about her father’s murder or anything other than her father’s murder, but the weight was less punishing now. She could practically hear her father offer up one of his Alphaisms, “A good Alpha surrounds himself with strong shoulders, so he never has to carry the load alone.” Katherine bit down on the skin inside her mouth and fought the urge to cry.
They stood around the door uneasily, remembering the last time they’d sent off a member of the family. Finally, Anthony broke the silence, “It feels wrong to be splitting up the family like this.”
“The last time we separated, Dad died.” Ronan spoke quietly. He’d been silent for most of the meeting. He’d been silent a lot lately, she realized, looking at him more intently than before. Before he’d left with Pierre for Montana, Ronan had been bold, confident and decisive. He seemed none of those things now.
“We’re separating, but we aren’t alone,” Katherine touched her brother’s arm lightly. We each have backup,” she looked around the foyer, “friends and family, who have our backs.” Katherine glanced at Rose for a second then looked back at Ronan. “If things were different, if we weren’t LaFlammes, then, yeah, I’d say we should stay here, stay together. But, we’re not just any wolf family, Ronan. We are Pierre LaFlamme’s children and we will protect this pack no matter what.” She sucked in a deep breath and searched her brothers’ faces for any sign of disagreement.
“I’ll keep Wild River, Eve, and Mom safe,” Teagan stepped up, moving to stand beside Ronan, shoulder to shoulder. His eyes blazed with intensity as he spoke. Katherine looked at him with surprise and pride; she’d never heard him sound more like their father in all her life.
“And I’ll find out everything I can down in Montana.” Anthony nodded his head as if the topic were closed and glanced toward the staircase. “Take care of Mom. I’ll call as soon as I land, and you,” he looked at Katherine with a frown, “be careful.” He glanced over at Ronan pointedly, “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”
Ronan nodded, “I won’t, I promise.” Katherine’s heart pinched as his eyes shifted and he looked away.
“Okay, then,” Katherine took a deep breath and opened her arms wide. It only took a moment for Anthony to thread his arm over her shoulder, linking them, followed by Teagan, and then, Ronan. They stood in a circle, linked to one another, for a long moment. She drew in their scents, committing them anew to memory, and sent a silent prayer to the Old Ones to protect her family in the days to come.
♀♀♀
“Are you sure this thing can make it?” Daphne asked uncertainly as she looked out the window of the Cherokee six seater at the Atlantic Ocean far below.
Katherine laughed and looked over her shoulder, her smile wide and honest, “This old thing can make it anywhere she wants to.” She ran her hand lovingly across the instrument panel. “I’ve been flying this bird for a few decades and she’s never given me an ounce of trouble. I trust her.”
Daphne swallowed and leaned back in her seat, gripping the seat with tense fingers. She’d never been eager to fly, but had done so many times over the years as part of her work with Jacob and the Canadian packs. She’d even flown in small aircraft like this one before, but never had she ever flown across the ocean in such a tiny plane, with half her entire world on board. The thought of crashing into the water below and losing her f
uture with Keme made her head spin.
“You’re going to rip that chair right off if you don’t loosen your grip, my love,” Keme’s low masculine voice cut through Daphne’s thoughts like a hot knife through butter. His hand stroked her own, plucking her fingers away from the fabric of the seat and bringing it to rest on his leg. Daphne lifted her gaze to look at her mate and felt the tension in her mind calm enough for her body to respond to her commands. She twined her fingers with Keme’s, squeezing them tight and focused on her breathing.
“I don’t like flying,” Daphne forced herself to murmur, just loud enough for Keme to hear. She hated feeling like this, so out of control that she couldn’t think. Her brain had been her best weapon for as long as she could remember, and having it impaired was like losing a limb.
“I know.” Keme chuckled, rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand rhythmically. “Remember the time we went with Dad up north to visit the Nunavut pack?”
