The Fifth Moon's Lovers (The Fifth Moon's Tales Book 3)

by Monica La Porta

  Eyes wide, Mirella gave her lady’s maid a long, incredulous stare. “You also?”

  Even Mama Bee laughed alongside her sisters.

  Shaking her head, Mirella pointed an accusing finger at Lucilla and Vera, who stood as a united, sniggering front. “You are a bad influence on Crea.”

  Crea paled and moved her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, no! I didn’t mean to—”

  “Mirella’s joking.” Vera circled Crea’s back.

  “I am not.” Mirella smiled at her lady’s maid. “But you are not at fault. My sisters are terrible companions.”

  Lucilla stuck her tongue out.

  Mirella shrugged. “See?”

  Mama Bee shifted as if she wanted to say something, but Mirella heard the familiar rumble of Valentine’s Desert Fire.

  “Valentine’s back.” She stood at once and climbed down the porch, heading toward the house.

  Fatigue still plagued her limbs, but the idea of being cocooned in her husband’s strong arms was incentive enough to make her walk. She didn’t have to overtax herself with a long stroll though, because Valentine appeared from around a bend in the path. His eyes brightened when he saw her, and he sprinted to catch her in a warm embrace.

  “Kitten,” he whispered as he gently gathered her in his arms, caressing her belly.

  In the last months, Valentine had rarely left her side, and Mirella had grown used to his comforting presence. Nuzzling his chest, she breathed in his scent. Her baby’s wolf too rejoiced at seeing Valentine’s. The pup was bigger than the last time it had appeared in her mind, his russet fur a shade darker, and his movements were more coordinated as well, but he was a joyous wolfling, and his paws were still too big for his round and soft body. The baby moved to meet Valentine’s hand, and Valentine looked in wonder as the bump pressed harder against his touch.

  “If our baby’s wolf resembles in any way our son’s character, little Valentine is going to be a handful.” Mirella placed her hand on top of his. “I was thinking earlier about when he will be older and—”

  Steadying his hand, Valentine looked at her, worry etched on his handsome face. “Let’s go inside. You look tired.”

  Mirella smiled at him. “I just need a nap before dinner.”

  “I’ll take her to our apartments,” Valentine said over his shoulder as he adjusted her weight in his arms and cradled her more comfortably.

  Lulled by his voice and the warmth emanating from his hard body, Mirella slipped into sweet dreams without realizing she had closed her eyes. When she reopened them, she was on their bed, and Valentine was spooning her, his hand over her belly, stroking her slowly. Without saying a word, he moved her hair aside and leaned closer to trail feather-light kisses over her neck. His fingers traveled lower, skimming the thin fabric of her gown that covered her thigh. She shivered.

  “I need you,” he said, nibbling at her earlobe.

  She arched her back in response, pushing against him. “Take me.”

  His hand reached for the hem of her gown, then unhurriedly retraced its path up, uncovering her skin inch by inch, his fingers playing with the lace keeping the garter in place. She moaned when he brushed between her legs. Then he gently pressed the pad of his finger against her entrance, making her whimper, “Please.”

  He didn’t grant her wish, but kept playing with her senses, blowing soft breaths against her skin before playfully biting her shoulder. His finger poised against her flesh, increasing his pressure by small fractions, while his other hand made short work of the hooks on the front of her corset, freeing her breasts to his touch. He traced the contour of her soft mounds, paying attention to her nipples as he moved from one breast to the other.

  Her pregnancy had changed her body; she had blossomed—as Valentine loved to remind her when she complained of the weight she had gained—making her more sensitive to his sensual assaults. “Please—”

  Once again, her plea found deaf ears. Valentine didn’t seem in a hurry. His hands massaged, kneaded, pinched, but all with a certain restrain, bringing her to the edge of madness and keeping her in that hazy state of mind where pleasure robbed her of her senses, and she only existed for his touch. The rest of the universe receded, only his finger circling her flower mattered.

  “I love you,” he said, his voice but a whisper. “Forever.” His teeth sank into the soft flesh of her shoulder as he filled her fully, robbing Mirella of her breath.

  Still, he maintained control over his passion, his movements slow as he craned her face to his mouth. His kiss was long and deep, his tongue keeping the same rhythm of his thrusts, sending Mirella into a spiral of bliss that he controlled, prolonging her pleasure until she was but a quivering body. Finally, he flicked his finger against her hard nub, and she came undone, crying his name as he spent himself inside her with a final push.

  Pleasant darkness welcomed Mirella, and she drifted on a cloud of contentment for a long time. When she came back to her senses, Valentine was caressing her belly again.

  “I drew a bath,” he said, lowering his lips to the spot where he had bitten her.

  She couldn’t talk yet, but nodded and let him carry her to the sunken pool.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Valentine washed Mirella with the utmost care, then relaxed with her, soaking in the scented water he had perfumed with red lavender and a few drops of wild peppermint to soothe her.

  He lived for these serene moments when her wellbeing was in his hands and he made her happy. She sometimes complained about the changes in her body, and he had made his goal to show to her how much he was in love with her. With the passing months, his desire for Mirella had not dimmed. If anything, he craved her with a stronger need, as if being one with Mirella was all he required. Her rounder curves, her fuller breasts and her pregnancy bump, her red lips and big eyes, every single detail that pertained to her was attractive to him. Like a moth to the flame, he orbited around her, enthralled by her grace. Gabriel had once used the term besotted in regard to Valentine’s behavior, and he had not minded.

  “I could stay like this forever,” Mirella said, tilting her chin up to meet his lips.

  He kissed her softly. “Let’s do just that.”

  The voice-intercom chimed, and they both laughed at Aldo’s awful timing.

  “Master Lobo, Martali is waiting for you in the studio. He says it’s urgent.” The majordomo’s voice intruded in their perfect moment, bringing reality back into the bathroom and shattering the dream Valentine had built for him and Mirella.

  With a suffered groan, Valentine lifted himself from the pool, then helped Mirella to stand and toweled her dry. In the process, he kissed her everywhere, making sure no inch of her luscious body was left behind, making her giggle or moan depending on the location of his soft brushes. It took all his willpower to stop him from taking her one last time—he hadn’t made love to her on the vanity table yet—but something in Aldo’s tone had warned him he shouldn’t delay the visit with Martali. Still, he entered his studio a good twenty minutes later, after making sure Mirella was on her way to her sisters’ apartments.

  “Martali,” he addressed the fit man standing in front of the window. “What’s the urgency?”

  Martali turned at once, straightening his posture and slightly lowering his head in salute. “We’ve just received news about Vanni. He was found dead in one of the pavilions of the Royal Aquatic Park. From the preliminary report of the coroner, he suffered a stab wound to his heart soon after you followed him to the park.”

  “The Leader is nothing but efficient at cutting loose strings.” Valentine sat at his desk. “Did you already talk to Gabriel and Dragon?”

  Martali nodded. “I took the liberty to summon them here, so we can all talk at once.”

  Valentine rang for a light repast, and he and his head guard nibbled at the food while they waited for his friends to arrive.

  When they finally entered the studio, Gabriel said, “We called the coop and asked for the list of names of al
l its members. The man who left the club and went to visit the High Priest isn’t listed in the almanac.”

  “But he was admitted in a few of the closed sessions.” Dragon walked to the desk and grabbed a pastry.

  Valentine passed his hands over his jaws, then pressed his fingers to his temples to relieve the pressure that was mounting already. “So, we have a complete stranger frequenting the coop, privy to details that should have remained secret—”

  “Maybe, the man was only a stranger to you,” Martali interceded.

  Gabriel leaned against the edge of the window. “I think Martali is right. To be accepted among the other merchants, Vanni wasn’t the only one knowing him. I took for granted that all the newcomers were vetted and approved by the coop, so I never questioned the new faces present at the meetings.”

  Thinking along the same line as Gabriel, Valentine steepled his hands. “We must assume the majority of the coop was onto it, even though they often voted for the plans I proposed.”

  “And the High Priest might be somewhat involved if the man ran straight to the Vestal House.” Dragon sat on one of the sturdiest chairs in the studio and stretched his long legs before him.

  “Must we assume he went to warn the High Priest that Valentine was talking to Vanni?” Gabriel asked.

  “Why else?” Dragon shrugged.

  “We are implying that the High Priest is involved with the terrorists.” Martali moved his weight to the edge of his chair. “I would proceed with extreme caution.”

  “I agree.” Valentine’s headache was getting stronger, and he shut his eyes for a moment before continuing. “Without testimonies, we can’t prove anything. Rado and Ronda are dead, all the men who worked for them were poisoned, now Vanni is dead, and I would bet that we won’t see the nameless man again.” Frustration rode on top of his headache, making him feel like a wounded, caged animal. “Every time we get closer to the truth, the Leader is one step ahead of us.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Let’s go to the lagoon for a night swim,” Lucilla said, her big puppy-eyes trained at Mirella.

  “Yes, please.” Vera took Mirella’s hands and squeezed them.

  After the long day, Mirella wasn’t in the mood for more excitement. She hadn’t seen Valentine since their late-afternoon interlude, and she ate a light dinner with her sisters and Crea in their quarters because he was busy. What she wanted now was to go back to the master apartments and climb on her bed, then rest in Valentine’s embrace for what remained of her pregnancy. But natural pools were rare on Lupine, and swimming wasn’t a common practice, so she understood her sisters’ enthusiasm over the idea—and although Crea didn’t utter a word on the subject, her eager face betrayed how much she would have enjoyed a visit to Lobo Mansion’s lagoon.

  Her capitulating “All right,” was welcomed by cheers and, “Thank you so much, you are the best sister ever!”

  Since Valentine was still secluded in his studio with Martali, Gabriel, and Dragon, she asked Aldo to let him know of her intentions. “To the pool it is,” she finally said.

  Azure Lagoon was a basin of crystalline water excavated inside a grotto at the border between the hanging gardens and the Great Plains. Accessible through a deep set of carved steps, the cave opened into the valley through a large a fissure that framed the sky and the Fifth Moon, which bathed the pool in a silvery light. It was the perfect setting for a romantic date, but Mirella resigned herself to share the place with her sisters and Crea instead.

  “I must get my supplements.” Mirella pushed herself up from her armchair.

  “I can do it for you,” Crea promptly offered.

  “I’m feeling much better, and a few steps will do me good.” Her bouts of fatigue and nausea came and went in waves. Now, she was perfectly fine. “And I need to change in any case.”

  “We’ll walk with you,” Vera said.

  Amidst laughter, the four of them entered the master apartments, where Mirella went to the closet first to choose among her many outfits the one most appropriate for a midnight romp. Valentine’s closet barely contained his clothes nowadays; Mirella’s gowns took most of the space. She peeked at Genevieve Lafrette’s latest arrivals, moving around apparel boxes, looking for the swimsuit gown she knew Valentine had ordered for her. As she pushed a big container to the side to inspect the box behind it, one of the box’s corners hit the closet’s wall. With a soft click, a hidden compartment opened, revealing a small leather-bound notebook hidden behind it. Holding her belly with one hand, she leaned to pick it up.

  It was Valentine’s father’s diary. Valentine had shown it to her when he came back from Sidera Prime, but she hadn’t seen him reading it in a long time. The notebook seemed to contain a painful history for her husband, and she had been relieved he wasn’t dwelling on those pages any longer. As she weighed the small diary in her hands, she noted the bookmark placed in the middle and opened the page. Elegant, yet masculine handwriting covered the yellowed paper from top to bottom. Mirella’s eyes wandered over the fading black words that spoke louder than a booming voice.

  Sophia is dead, and I can’t live without her. Carolus tells me I should take care of Valentine, but he doesn’t understand me. My brother doesn’t know what it means to lose the love of your life. I shouldn’t resent my son, but I do. He looks too much like her…

  Mirella leafed through the pages, going back and forth in time as Marcellus penned his emotions. Bits and pieces of the werewolf’s history came to life through his neat calligraphy, and she couldn’t stop reading through the next page, and the next, until she hit a few passages that made her pause at first.

  It is such a burden to know your betrothed is destined to die, that her purpose is only to perpetuate your race. When I was but a green pup, it was explained to me a woman was being created just for me and that I should be patient. I was also told not to create any attachment toward my intended bride because she would be around just long enough to give me a much needed heir. My mother had served the same purpose and died giving birth to me. As all the blessed brides before her and all the blessed brides after her. All the werewolves—what little was left of us anyway—knew that. When I first met Sophia, I didn’t know she would become my whole world, and in my folly, I never thought I couldn’t change her fate. So full of myself was I. My assumption was that nobody before had loved his wife as much as I did, and so they hadn’t cared to save their blessed brides, but my love was so strong, I would certainly prevail.

  My quest to find a way to save my sweet, little bride was all for naught.

  Knowing that Sophia had a full month before the birthing date, I left her, looking for those answers I needed. I had it all planned out; she would remain in our apartments until it was time, and only then I would accompany her to the Vestal House to give birth. I had already informed the High Priest and the medicus that I would stay with her. They mentioned tradition and told me what I wanted to do was blasphemy. I told them to hang themselves for all I cared. I had already taken my bride away from the Vestal House against their counsel, and that was that.

  I was on the other side of the station, reading those useless books when Sophia’s water broke. A riot had started in the morning hours, and all the passageways between the library and our quarters were in lockdown. By the time I forced my way through, it was too late…

  I entered our bedroom. I was in such pain I screamed for everyone to leave us alone. Sophia was in our bed. She looked like she was resting. So beautiful. So still.

  A sob tore through Mirella’s lips, and she clutched the diary to her chest.

  “I’ve been told you plan to go to the lagoon without me—” Valentine’s playful voice reached her from the entrance of the closet. “But you won’t get rid of me so easily. Plus, it just so happens I have a surprise planned for you that involves the grotto.”

  Mirella couldn’t turn to face him and couldn’t stop crying. She had just been served the most horrific truth. Her mind and her heart couldn’t keep
up with the torrent of emotions tearing her apart sob after sob.

  “Mirella?” Valentine was at her side in a heartbeat. “Kitten, what’s wrong?” He wound his arms around her, pulling her back to his chest, enveloping her like a warm blanket. “Are you okay? Talk to me.” His hands sought hers, and he found the leather journal. The intake of his breath told her he knew. With a soft pull, he turned her in his arms and wiped her tears with his gentle kisses.

  “I should’ve hidden the diary in the vault,” he whispered.

  “Did you go to Sidera Prime looking for the same answers your father sought?” she asked.

  He caressed her face, laying a kiss on the corner of her lips, before slowly nodding. “I did.”

  “But you couldn’t find anything useful.”

  He hesitated before answering, kissing her mouth fully before leaning away and locking eyes with her. “I didn’t.”

  “You fear I won’t survive giving birth.” Saying the words out loud made it all too real.

  Valentine hugged her. “Since the beginning, I’ve been looking for a way to keep you and the baby alive.”

  To her surprise, he was shaking, tears streaming from his beautiful hazel eyes.

  “Are we going or—” Vera’s voice cut off.

  From over Valentine’s shoulder, Mirella saw her sister’s eyes widen at the sight of the strong werewolf, hugging her as if his life depended on it. Vera walked backward a few steps and left the closet, telling her sister and Crea to leave Mirella alone.

  “Were you ever going to tell me about it?” Mirella asked Valentine.

  “No. I wanted to protect you from everything. Even from me—” He dropped to his knees, his arms crossing her back. “I tried to send you away because I knew I wasn’t strong enough to resist you.”

  “That conversation I heard between you and Gabriel—” The memory came back clear as day to her mind. She was walking around the perimeter of the manor when she had heard him shouting in his studio and couldn’t help but listen to a painful dialogue involving her.