“I already did,” he confessed, not pulling away as he began stroking her body. He pressed her up against the cliff. “Last night over webcam. It is official. You are my wife.”
“Forever,” she whispered.
“Yes, a thaisce,” he said, kissing her deeply as if he would never let go. “Forever.”
THE END
Call of Temptation (Call of the Lycan)
By
Michelle M. Pillow
Call of Temptation (Call of the Lycan) © Copyright 2008 - 2013, Michelle M. Pillow
Second Electronic Printing April 2011, The Raven Books
First Electronic Printing January 2008
ISBN 9781452459516
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Published by The Raven Books at Smashwords
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This novel is a work of fiction. Any and all characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or events or places is merely coincidence. Novel intended for adults only. Must be 18 years or older to read.
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Call of Temptation
By
Michelle M. Pillow
Call of Temptation
Paranormal Shifter Romance
James O’Connell lives simply, except for the whole hunting werewolves part. As one of the three lycan princes of the O’Connell clan, it’s his duty to enforce the lycan law. When a member of their clan begins killing humans, he’s sent to bring the rogue wolf in.
Claudia Hughes lives an ordinary life as a computer software analyst. Her mother and grandmother had psychic intuition, but hers is severely underdeveloped. Taking a solitary vacation, she trusted where instinct led her and ended up at the end of some crazy woman’s fangs. She’s led into a surreal world where lycans exist and passion for the man who saved her is the least of her worries.
Rating: Contains graphic sexual content, adult language, and violence.
Dedication
To my fabulous partner, Mandy M. Roth. Working with you is a real pleasure!
Prologue
Claudia Hughes couldn’t help herself as she sang at the top of her lungs. The off-key sound of her voice clashed with the oldies on the radio, but it didn’t matter. No one could hear her as she sped down the interstate. Almost longingly, she glanced at her cell phone on the seat next to her, wishing someone would call—even if the only people who’d contact her were coworkers needing help with some software glitches. It wasn’t like they knew her anyway. She worked alone for the most part, sitting at home in a pair of exercise pants in front of a computer.
The lonely existence wasn’t planned. The town she lived in didn’t have any good jobs and the house she owned was paid for, thanks to her mother’s will. Being hired by a firm in nearby Cincinnati had been a lucky break. They didn’t even require her to drive in to work.
The East Coast called and she pressed down on the pedal, smiling slightly at the radar detector that kept her from getting pulled over by police. Suddenly, seeing a turn-off for Rhode Island, she took a deep breath. Every time she saw the words Rhode Island a tingle worked over her. Without much thought, she followed her gut instinct, knowing it was what her mother and grandmother would have told her to do. Making her tires screech, she swerved to make the exit.
Rhode Island had never been in the plan, but she knew she had to trust her instincts. Her psychic abilities might not be as strong as her mother’s had been, but she knew she had to trust them. Something important awaited her at the end of this journey and she would keep driving until she found it.
Grabbing her sunglasses off the seat, she slipped them on and rolled down her window to let the cooling breeze in. Destiny was out there and she was going to find it.
Chapter One
New Shoreham, Block Island, Rhode Island
“Where is that bitch?” James O’Connell frowned, narrowing his eyes as he scanned the long balcony overlooking the sea. He breathed hard, sniffing the air as the full moon threatened him with a shift. Being a natural-born lycanthrope, he was ruled by the full moon but not controlled by it. More than that, he was called to the sea, for the moon controlled the tides just as it controlled the stirring of his blood. The sensation of power was like a drug and it caused many of his kind to live by the water.
His senses enhanced by the nature around him, he scanned the shadows along the wooden deck. A crisp breeze came off the Atlantic Ocean, stinging his nose as he tried to pick up on Meghan’s elusive scent. Under his breath, he swore in frustration, “Fuck!”
He couldn’t have lost her again, not after finally tracking her down on the somewhat remote island twelve miles off Rhode Island’s mainland. Luckily for him, Meghan wasn’t exactly the “camping-out” type and he didn’t have to search the seventeen miles of shoreline to find her. All he had to do was go to the fanciest hotels and resorts on the island until someone recognized her photograph. It didn’t take long. With Meghan’s jet-black hair, tanned skin, generous breasts and penchant for wearing revealing clothing, she stood out in a crowd of humans like a walking goddess. Too bad this goddess was deadly.
Thinking to catch the barest hint of her scent, he began jogging along the deck. The beast lurking within him was fierce and always ready to unleash itself, but it was worse on the full moon, it was worse when it came to hunting Meghan. The bitch had nearly killed his oldest brother, Ian, future king of the O’Connell clan, and Ian’s sea-swept bride, Ceana.
Technically, Ian was next in line to rule upon the death of the lycan king, their father, then James and finally the youngest, Roark. But, since they were immortal, unless some horrific event occurred, it was unlikely that any of the brothers would ever rule. James was fine with that. He would much rather have his family than a crown.
Roark, like James, had his own duties to the lycan clan. They were hunters, bringing justice to the rogue wolves—like Meghan—who broke their laws, meager laws that they were. She had betrayed the clan and tried to kill Ian when the oldest O’Connell didn’t choose her as his bride and future queen. Though Ian and Meghan had a century-long affair of the flesh, James was very glad to know Ian hadn’t tricked himself into thinking he loved Meghan. The bitch would no doubt have plotted to kill the king if she’d been next in line for the throne.
Meghan’s crimes didn’t end with her betrayal. After the assassination attempt, she had laid low for a while, ending up in Las Vegas where James was first able to track her down. Only after getting there did he realize she’d been a busy little lycan. She’d been killing showgirls and leaving their mutilated corpses in dark alleyways, as if taunting him with her misdeeds. When James got near and stopped her game, she’d been livid. Meghan had gone on a killing rampage, leaving a trail of human female corpses across Nevada, Idaho, Oregon and Washington. Some in the clan believed she’d gone up to Canada, but in truth, she’d merely tried to throw them off her scent, becoming more discreet about hiding her victims’ bodies, as she turned her attention south, zigzagging a haphazard pattern across the United States.
Feasting on mortals was forbidden. It was one of the oldest of their laws. Lycans were an ancient people, their race as old as the humans�
�, growing with the humans from a time when mortals knew of all the supernatural races. They used to be hunted, condemned as evil by the church. Sure, times were wilder in the early days, but so it was with all the races—mortal and supernatural. Just as humans no longer roamed the countryside pillaging and wielding swords so did his people no longer uncontrollably wield claw and fang.
In present times, humans denied their existence, which suited most of the supernaturals just fine. But their denial led them in circles when it came to Meghan, searching for a killer who could not be caught by their mortal means. With Roark newly married, it was up to James to find Meghan and punish her. It was a task that weighed heavily upon him, as she was proving to be a cunning adversary. And with each new victim, she seemed to grow stronger and more elusive.
Lucky for all, her killings had yet to result in a human being turned. Death came much easier to mortals than a changing. Not only would it be an embarrassment for the clan, since James was expected to prevent such a thing, it would be another burden James did not need—taking care of a young one. Circumstances had to be right, the bloodline perfect and the moon full for the bite to take effect. It fell into natural order that if attacking humans was against the law, so was trying to turn them. A lycan could attack fifty mortals and possibly only one would start to turn. Reason dictated that if one was turned, the odds were that many had been attacked. Even then it didn’t guarantee the mortal would make it through the horrifically painful process.
“Fucking cunt!” James leapt over the stairs leading down to the sandy beach. The slippery footing didn’t halt his progress as he sprinted along the shore. Stars spread out, punctuating the cloudless sky. Despite the cold sea air, that really didn’t bother him, it was a perfect night. He would have preferred rain, as the foul weather would surely keep humans indoors. Though the beach appeared abandoned where he was, he could detect human voices in the distance. It prevented him from shifting and catching Meghan all the faster.
“No,” a breathy whisper caught his attention. He started to ignore it as he filtered through the voices to find Meghan, but something in the way the word trembled kept his attention. “Get off me!”
James focused his thoughts, not breaking stride. The sounds of a struggle ensued, the unmistakable sounds of a fight. Light grunts pitted against an evil laugh. He’d been around too long not to recognize what happened. A mortal woman was caught in Meghan’s grasp and, by the sound of it, she was putting up one hell of a fight. Amazement filled him at the mortal’s stamina. Not many could stand up to a lycan, especially when being attacked.
“Ouch!” Meghan’s voice swore. A loud smack followed the word. “You stupid, fucking cunt, you broke my rib! Oh, that’s it. Playtime is over, you mortal piece of shit.”
Meghan! James yelled, directing his thoughts toward the lycan woman. He used the telepathic link lycans shared to yell at her. Stop!
“Stay back.” The woman’s yell sounded closer than before, but it was still a long run down the beach. It was only by focusing his lycan hearing that he managed to catch the words. James shivered at the soft quality to her voice, even as she yelled at her attacker. The blood pumping in his veins made it easy for his cock to stir at the sound. “I don’t know what you want or who you think you are, lady, but I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
“You, hurt me?” Meghan laughed harder.
“I will if I have to. I know how to defend myself. Just walk away,” Meghan’s victim answered.
Again James was amazed that the woman stood up to a lycan. He could detect Meghan’s anger by the way her loud breath pierced the night. Mortals would not be able to detect the sound but he could with his enhanced hearing.
You have a choice, James. Save the girl or catch the queen. Meghan’s voice whispered through his thoughts. I admit, I wonder which you will try to do.
Meghan! James warned.
“What’s wrong with your face?” the mortal asked, gasping. “What are you?”
“I’m your queen, bitch! Bow down to me!” Meghan yelled. James could hear her leaping into the air, heard the soft thud of her body hitting flesh and imagined the piercing of Meghan’s fangs into a tender throat. James ran harder. He had to be close now.
“Stop, please…ow.” The woman’s words lost some of the fight.
Meghan! What are you doing? he demanded. Leave the mortal be and come with me. I swear, if you do, justice will be met.
Justice? Meghan spat out. You mean your justice, not mine. What justice is there in denying our inner natures? I had forgotten how freeing it is to drink of blood and partake of sex as I see fit. Why do we deny ourselves our birthright? Why suffer ourselves to save mortal sheep? When I want to fuck, I find a hard cock and fuck—whether the man be willing or not. When I wish to drink, I take my drink where I please, from the neck of whichever sweet, young beauty captures my notice. I’m growing more powerful, James, and I’ll keep killing so long as you chase me. You won’t stop me. No one will stop me and, someday, I will have my own clan, my own warriors underneath my rule and there will be a great war between us, the naturals who do what we were always meant to and you unnaturals who would deny lycan nature and live the lives of monks.
You will kill if I don’t stop you. James ran faster, instinctively going where the mind-link grew stronger.
True, but this way it’s your fault another pretty, young mortal will die. She laughed. Mmm, why must we always fight, James? All these centuries and you’ve never liked me. Why is that, James? Is it because I fucked your brother and not you? Is it jealousy? I’ll admit I miss the strength of a good lycan prince’s cock. How about it? Will you shift and fuck me, James? How long has it been since you’ve ridden a real lycan woman? How long since you’ve ridden anything at all? Perhaps you like being a monk.
James hated how his cock instantly lifted at her words, pressing hard against his stiff denim jeans. It had indeed been a long time since he’d felt the soft velvet of a pussy squeezing him, and the combination of the hunt, the moon and the ocean only urged the primal, instinctive lusts to course through his blood.
Was that a moan of interest, James? Even in his head, Meghan’s voice was thick and sultry. Should we call a truce just for tonight? I can let this one go. She’s weak but she might live yet if I let her go now. Would you do it, James? Would you fuck me to save this one’s life? How about later? Would you be my king and fuck me every night, James? Would you spray your hot cum all over my big breasts? In my hot, wet pussy? In my tight, luscious ass?
James nearly howled at the imagery. He hated Meghan with more passion than anything else in his immortal life, and yet she knew how to tempt their kind, knew what to say, how to send images of her words into his mind. A flash of a tanned ass, cheeks spread, came into his mind, the tight rosette right there as if waiting to be taken.
Or would you prefer my mouth, James? The words purred and whined at the same time, followed by the image of perfect bowed lips around a thick lycan cock. Should I suck the poison from your thick wound? Would you like that, James? Would you like to punish me for my crimes with your big, hard, thick, pounding sword? You could take me here, on the beach with the smell of the ocean and this mortal’s blood in our noses. I feel the beast in you, it’s the same one I carry. The beast is thirsty. He wants a drink, doesn’t he, James? I won’t tell anyone if you indulge this one, little time. Promise.
Finally he detected Meghan with his eyes. She stood in the distance but he saw her easily with his naturally enhanced vision. Her breast was pulled from her dress’s floral bodice, hanging naked and free in the night air.
Pinching a nipple, she moaned. What is your answer, James? Will you fuck me to save her life? Will you dip your prick into the very thing you hate to save this one, simple, disgusting mortal?
James bit his lip hard with a growing fang, drawing blood. His eyes focused on the woman’s breast, ignoring the fallen human lying in the sand next to her. For the briefest of moments, he considered Meghan’s words.
Whatever fight the mortal had put up was gone now. As he drew nearer, he saw Meghan’s hand was covered in blood and she rubbed the dark fluid on her breast. His inner beast tried to rise up. Everything about Meghan disgusted him.
Meghan’s eyes flashed with golden promise. She touched the flowing skirt, tugging it up to reveal her perfect thighs. The smell of blood and feminine desire assaulted his nostrils. This was not a plan of attack he’d been ready for.
Yes, he growled at her, hoping she wouldn’t sense his distaste for her, hoping she’d mistake the gruffness of his thoughts as desire and not repulsion. If he had to fuck Meghan to save the mortal, he would. Give me your word that you will let her live and I will fuck you.
Really? she purred, pulling her skirt higher to reveal she wore no panties over her clean-shaven pussy. Right here?
Yes, he answered her breathy plea, refusing to look at what she showed him. Get on your knees for me.
Meghan laughed, her tone cruel. She sunk to her knees in the sand. He was close now, so close. His heart thumped heavily, blocking out all but her words.
Instead of doing as he commanded, she reached for the half-dead woman next to her. Pulling the frail human by the arm, Meghan grinned at him, her eyes flashing deadly as she bared her fangs. Without pause, she sunk them into the human’s throat, drinking noisily so James could hear each suckle. Meghan’s laughter filled him, mocking him, scorning him.
Sorry, lover boy, but you’re not lycan enough to ride me, Meghan taunted, even as she drank. Then, letting the woman’s body fall onto the ground, she stood, smiling evilly. Blood covered her lips but did not drip down her throat, showing how delicately she had drunk. She yelled over the beach, “But now you can eternally carry the guilt of knowing you would have succumbed to me, James, just as you will carry the knowledge that you will never catch me. You have failed everyone you love. You have failed your family and your clan. You are no match for a true lycan queen. You are pathetic!”
Call of the Lycan Trilogy Bundle Page 15
