by Leela Ash
A sudden burst of light pulsed from deep within the clear spherical stone that was placed on an ornate table in the center of the platform, and all the stars began to glow the same iridescent colors that the moon had shone in the spot Greyson had brought Molly to the night before. The air was sucked from her lungs suddenly as a powerful flash of light pulsed through the circle of bodies, and seemed to land inside of her, making a home of her womb and resting there. It was then that she knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that the powers rumored about the ceremony were real.
Greyson led Molly out of the sacred space, as she was disoriented and light-headed. The pure white gown she had been wearing had suddenly become imbued with a glowing silhouette of a wolf, and she stroked it, closing her eyes as her entire body tingled.
“I have one more surprise for you,” Greyson whispered into Molly’s ear as he walked her behind the brick wall of the elder’s ruins where the ceremony had been held out under the open sky.
Molly gasped in shock when Haley and Donny rushed toward her, scooping her up in their arms and holding her tightly.
“What’s going on?” Molly exclaimed, her eyes filling with hot tears. She had missed her family so much. Greyson smiled kindly at her. “I brought your family to Stonybrooke for you. I made the investment into my business. You believed in me enough that I started to believe in myself. My father disiowned me, but everything is all laid out. I hired your father to help me.”
“We’re moving to Stonybrooke, honey,” Molly’s father said, suddenly appearing behind Haley. He was holding a strange relic that looked like a meteorite on a golden branch. The meteor part glowed yellow, and he embraced Molly tightly. “We’re going to start over.”
Molly laughed and cried at the same time as her family fawned over her, until finally, Greyson cleared his throat.
“There’s one more thing,” he said, looking at Molly’s father meaningfully.
“Right,” Mr. Ferguson said, standing up straight and offering the small relic to Molly. “Congratulations on your wedding.”
“My…”
Suddenly, realization dawned on Molly and she looked up at Greyson in shock. He had set up the wedding ceremony so that it fell on the same day that the Serah stone had blessed their union. The council elder Blarney was standing in front of the wall, smiling kindly out at the small crowd gathered to witness the event, and Greyson was suddenly at her side, offering her his arm.
“Are you ready?” he whispered.
Molly nodded, joy and excitement filling every inch of her body. This was everything she had ever hoped for. And now, everything she had ever dreamt of had come true. And she couldn’t think of a better way to spend the rest of her life than as Greyson’s wife.
***
After the brief, and very sacred union ceremony, Molly’s family left to go back to their hotel and Molly rode back to Greyson’s estate, with Baron at the wheel. Baron opened the doors for them and disappeared to his own quarters, leaving Greyson and Molly alone in front of the doors.
“I can’t believe how perfect all of this has been,” Molly whispered. “I love you.”
Greyson smiled and his whole, handsome face lit up with delight. “I love you too.”
He took her hand and they walked inside, and suddenly, Greyson’s lips were against hers and they were falling into the bedroom. Greyson’s eyes flashed bright green as Molly held him close, his taught, muscular body hard under her hands as his soft mouth closed over the sensitive skin on her neck and breasts.
She cried out in delight as Greyson explored her body gently, and she could see the effort of his restraint on his face. He took her in sweetly, as if she were a rare wine that he wanted to savor. She closed her eyes as she was swept away by the enormous power of her longing, and Greyson’s lips devoured her, sending wave after wave of sensual pleasure crashing over her.
Molly gasped when she found Greyson on top of her, the hard, urgent pressing of his cock sending thrills against her as the friction of his groin slid against her middle. She had never had someone’s erection so near her sex before, and a deep blissful sensation overpowered her. She had wanted this for so long. And now, finally, she was ready.
Greyson gritted his teeth as he stripped the pure white ceremonial dress off of Molly, his hands exploring every soft inch of her body. She gasped in pleasure as his fingers left a trail of fire over her, and suddenly, she found her boldness, stripping Greyson of his clothes and taking in his powerful, muscular body on top of her.
He grinned down at her and another flash of heat overwhelmed her. Greyson wasted no time in submerging his cock inside of her, using gentle, careful pressure as he thrust inside. The feeling of her body being pried apart by his hard muscle was strange and exciting, and although it hurt at first, she quickly forgot about it as the pleasure consumed her.
Suddenly, it was only Molly and Greyson in the world, their bodies creating a rhythmic dance that left them each hungry for more. Molly was sure that the sweet, sensual pleasure would never end, and they would be there in the bedroom for the rest of their lives.
But soon, she realized just how wrong she was. Greyson’s strong hips bucked against her, and she felt the alarming sensation of a loss of control. She closed her eyes, lost again and again as Greyson’s body took charge of her, the wolf finally able to have its way with her now. It wasn’t going to let her off so easily. It was going to make her surrender to him, to his power, or else.
Molly cried out as she was torn from the gentle sensual pleasure to one of a singularly raw nature; one of physical need that she hadn’t known was possible. Suddenly, her entire body was flushed with fire, one she was desperate to find a cure for. And the cure, it seemed, lie within Greyson. Only he could put it out for her, and it seemed to be his only goal.
He hissed in pleasure, his lithe, muscular body unleashing its full power upon her, until she was gasping, nearly driven mad with longing. Finally, Greyson howled out into the wide room, and Molly’s body began to quake beneath him, her hands trembling as she gripped his strong arms.
A torrent of heat surged through her and she cried out in surprise and pleasure as Greyson released a hot explosion of his liquid desire inside of her. She was shocked by the sensation into letting go and finally surrendering to the power of her own orgasm. Her body writhed beneath him of its own accord, and he collapsed beside her on the bed, his chest heaving with labored breaths.
She was worried that it had been too much for his injuries, but when he caught her eye, he was smiling.
“I’m going to take care of you for the rest of our lives, Molly,” Greyson promised. “And no matter what, in spite of anything, we are going to succeed together.”
“I know,” Molly whispered. And when she closed her eyes, she became distinctly aware of the fact that this was something she had known all along. Fate had brought them together, and it was fate, once again, that would bless their family for many years to come.
THE END
BONUS BOOKS
Dystopian Romance
Love and Survival in the Time After
Leela Ash
Copyright ©2016 by Leela Ash. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic of mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Chapter 1
Layne's heart was in her throat as the footsteps behind her receded. It had been a long time since she'd had a confrontation with one of the tribes. This time she'd gone to the wrong watering source. She thought that the public pool would be safe, for some reason. Although most of them were dried up, you could usually find at least a supply of sunscreen to protect you from the harsh sunlight, or if you were really lucky, there would be enough clean water left to quench your thirst and fill your bottle.
She'd been due for a refill for a while now and although it was reckless, she ha
d been desperate enough to get herself into danger. She had a bottle of beer left from the last batch she'd brewed, but that was strong enough to dull her senses and get her into trouble. Besides, it would just dehydrate her more. She would have to remember that this area was ruled by the Jackals – the name for the small gang of people who had claimed this turf. After the virus hit and wiped out most of the population, leaving only a few lucky survivors in every city, the tribes had been a way to find peace and security amongst other people who were dealing with the same crisis. There had been safety in numbers, or so they told themselves. While many had been afraid to wander the deserted world alone, moving forward with others didn't seem that bad.
She herself had been part of a group in those first few chaotic years. Being a talented chemist, she'd aligned herself with a team of doctors claiming to seek a cure to the problem, but as it turned out most of them were frauds and civilians, delusional with a self-important mission they weren't educated enough to accomplish. Everybody was hoping for a miracle and she'd been lured in by their pretense. Ultimately, the group split due to bruising of egos and no real direction and she'd been on her own ever since then, trying to make sense of how things had gotten so far out of hand.
As a scientist, she had to trace the line of cause and effect. A pharmaceutical company had ordered vaccinations against what they claimed was an alien virus from space – which was absurd, but everybody was so desperate for answers that they accepted the explanation. Now everybody knew that the first guess had been way off, but back then that was the government's grounds for getting as many people as possible under the needle for a miraculous vaccine that they had commissioned the company, Grow Inc, to develop. In a sad, ironic twist of fate, the virus they thought came from a meteorite that had landed in St. Petersburg, had actually been the result of lax safety precautions, as a team of scientists experimented with a cure for the common cold. They'd flown the team to Russia to try and evade SFT (Safety in Future Technology) safety standards, and the end result had been disastrous.
The antivirus had been promising, and they had been convinced that by pushing the envelope, it would be successful. In initial experiments it had a 100% success ratio, though it hadn't been tested over the long term. After the meteorite crashed into the yard outside the Russian facility where the American scientists had been mentoring a group of people who were working together to rid the world of disease, that was when the results of the virus began to be seen, and how the SFT had gotten involved, claiming that the virus, because it was so difficult to contain and treat, had extraterrestrial origins.
If they had checked more closely, they would have seen that the people that they had injected with the initial strain of vaccination had become carriers of the malicious virus, infecting everybody they came into contact with without even knowing it. A few cases had been reported in America shortly after the scientists returned, and before long half of St. Petersburg was in chaos. People were coughing up blood and begging for release from a pain that nobody could pinpoint, but everybody could agree was the worst they had ever felt. It seemed to move throughout the body, inflaming certain parts for a small amount of time before retreating and coming back with double the force.
Because of the rapid spread in St. Petersburg, everybody assumed that was the origin of the virus, and the city was put under strict quarantine. Unfortunately, it was no use. It spread all over the world with startling speed. Nobody thought that the virus might be in the vaccination. Ironically, the claim was that because the first vaccination had been successful enough during the preliminary trials, it should be utilized now, in this time of crisis. The SFT felt they had no choice and allowed the vaccinations to reach the mainstream market. Every day, for weeks, hundreds of people lined up to receive their vaccine, thinking it would be the only thing that might save them.
Carriers were being created left and right, but those whose immune systems weren't as strong, or whose bodies didn't contain an immunity in their genes, were left defenseless against it. Days after the vaccination, the coughing would begin, until finally people began to catch on that it wasn't an alien virus that was killing people – it was one being spread by the vaccine.
But it was too late. Within a few years, almost everybody was gone. With the exception of a few green-tinged carriers who had made it through, a few genetically privileged people, and some who had managed to escape both the carriers and the vaccinations until the virus finally became dormant. Life as they knew it had crumbled. Layne had no family or friends left, and she had felt so lost and alone, crying on her doorstep when the small group of “scientific” people had wandered past. They saw that she lacked the green-tinge of the carriers and the paleness of the infected, and welcomed her into their group saying they were heading somewhere safe, somewhere far away from there, and they were going to find the cure. Would she help?
She didn't want to leave, but she also knew that she couldn't stay. From that point forward, her survival would depend upon her ability to move on, and that's all she needed to know.
Chapter 2
Jax scooped a handful of water from the stream he was kneeling at, examining it closely. It was clean, he determined, and he drank deeply, wiping his mouth, allowing a few stray drops of water to drip off his chin. His dark, alert eyes scanned the trees. The wind moved boughs peacefully, but he wouldn't be fooled by the serenity. He thought he had heard a sound.
He grabbed his backpack – the holder of all his worldly possessions and a single reminder of home, where he came from, and slung it over his shoulder. He had found it heavy at first, but now he'd become accustomed to its weight, feeling nearly naked without it resting warmly on his shoulder. It reminded him of a pet he once had, a lizard he had named Jenko. Jenko sat on him like his bag did, his body temperature cool until Jax's body heat warmed it up. It was nice to pretend that he wasn't alone.
Alone was safer though, and the sound of others had brought his pulse to racing. He moved nimbly through the trees toward the sound, gripping a piece of glass tightly. He had been using it for a weapon for a few months, and had duct taped the edge so he could grip it firmly as he swiped it at whatever threat was looming. There were more wild dogs than ever now. After the humans had begun to die out, their pets grew feral and ran rampant around the cities and towns, meeting and breeding, populating the emptiness with their own pups. The same was true of cats, though their feral nature was already commonplace where he came from. Cats and their kittens roamed the streets without fear. He'd enjoyed it at first, feeling that finally it was time for man's supposed best friend to take his rightful place on the food chain. It seemed like poetic justice in a way.
Now though, the savage creatures would show no mercy. They vaguely remembered humans, and didn't think very fondly of them on the whole. The result was that he now had to fear both man and beast. At night, he had to keep watch for the glowing eyes of feral cats who wouldn't hesitate to jump out of the foliage and grip whatever was moving with fierce claws and teeth. He missed the way things used to be, when they were simple and safe. He had been younger then, and the few people who survived had created a new, hellish world all their own – one he wanted no part of.
The sound of heavy footfalls – a twig snapping loudly – brought him to attention. Somebody was running, heading toward the stream where he was standing dumbly, staring off into the distance. He narrowed his eyes and focused on the sound. Somebody was probably being chased. Sure enough, a stampede of feet followed closely after the first person he had heard. The Jackals were apparently after new prey. He shifted, selfishly irritated that the person they were chasing might lead them to him. He had been so peaceful there, but now he would have to hide.
He leapt up into a nearby tree, watching the action unfold. He wouldn't get involved; he would just stay out of sight long enough for the danger to pass and then go about his business. A woman burst through the bushes, her long, light brown hair framing her face. She gazed longingly at the water – he felt
a pang of pity, as it was a look he knew well – but she was trapped and couldn't drink. She looked around helplessly, her beautiful oval face contorted in panic and fear. He groaned to himself and lowered himself to the ground, motioning her over to him. She didn't seem to be wearing any of the signature clothing styles of the tribes he was familiar with, and he had a fleeting, hopeful thought that maybe she was like him and didn't belong to any of them.
That was unlikely though – the safety and food security in a gang was tempting to most people after the virus had hit, and he was sure that most others would have to be crazy to try to make it on their own.
“Up there,” he hissed. “Go!”
She looked at him in confusion before registering what he said. He didn't wait for her to respond before he hoisted her up, letting her step hard on his muscular forearm, and then took off running, throwing a large stone into the stream, hoping it would keep them off the trail, and dodging into a bush just as the three Jackals arrived, panting and swearing, their bare chests heaving as they gulped in air and looked into the stream.
“Where'd the bitch go?” the scrawniest asked. His hair was buzzed short and bleached white by the sun.
“We should split up,” the leader of the small group decided. He tugged at his pant leg – the Jackals went around shirtless with one pant leg up and one down to make them distinctive – and pointed into the stream. “All yours, Buggy.”
The third man groaned. He was tall and lanky, with sandy blonde hair and a small, round face.
“Why do I always get the shit jobs, Orson?” he complained.
