by Jane Godman
“No.” He leaned in close, forcing her to look at him. “They are dead because of Chastel. You have done nothing wrong, Valetta. You can’t think like that. If you blame yourself, it will eat away at you. I should know.”
She looked away from him toward the haunting, desolate beauty of the landscape, before raising questioning eyes to his face. “What do you mean?”
Could he tell her? Could he talk about it after all this time? There was only one way to find out. He took a deep breath, tasting the clean, fresh sea air in the back of his throat. “You know I had a mate, and she died?”
“My father told me.” Her voice was quiet. Clearly she was uncertain where this was going.
Samson gazed down into the churning dark gray waters, not seeing them, seeing a face that had stayed in his memory for hundreds of years. “Her name was Anna. We were teenage sweethearts. We came from the territory within the Arctic Circle. At that time, Arctic werewolves had less need to migrate away from the lands of our birth and we lived in the village where we had both been born. It has a modern name, but it was different back then. Its name meant ‘the ice heaven.’ It felt like heaven for a few years, but then there was a problem. A number of village children were killed and local people decided the culprit was a werewolf.”
“You don’t sound convinced.” Samson was aware of Valetta’s eyes on his face, even though he was still watching the water as the boat came into the harbor.
“I wasn’t. In fact, I knew for sure that the injuries they sustained were not caused by a werewolf attack. Panic ensued and no one was listening to reason. We, the werewolf community, had lived in secret harmony with the humans for centuries, but suddenly we were viewed with suspicion, seen as monsters.”
Valetta swallowed hard. “I know how that feels.”
“I guess you do. Of course, no one actually knew who the werewolves among them were. But the giveaway was our coloring. We were the ones who were different. A hate campaign started up and there were attempts to drive the Arctic werewolves out of the community. We resisted, but our comfortable home didn’t feel quite so comfortable anymore. One day, the males went out hunting as usual.” He paused, realizing he was shaking as he relived that awful day. Valetta moved closer and placed her hand over his where it lay on the deck rail and he returned the grip of her fingers gratefully. It calmed him and he found the trembling slowed to the point where he was able to continue. “When we returned, the women and children were all gone and our homes had been destroyed by fire.”
“They were gone?” Valetta asked. “Gone where?”
“We found their bodies two days later on a remote island. Dumped there like trash. They had each been killed with a single silver spear through the head.”
“Oh, Samson.” Valetta’s voice broke as she wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. They stood like that as the boat came alongside the disused cannery and the others offloaded their gear. When Valetta raised her head and gave him a watery smile, Samson felt something deep inside his chest shift. He couldn’t say the ice encasing his heart had melted. He wasn’t sure there was still a heart inside the ice to save. But there was a new warmth, and a flicker of feeling that he hadn’t experienced for a very long time. He found himself wanting to explore it.
“I blamed myself for Anna’s death. If I hadn’t gone out hunting that day, I could have protected her.” He cupped Valetta’s chin and tilted her face up to his. “It’s a destructive way to feel, and it doesn’t do you any good.”
Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. “I’m glad you told me.”
With regret he drew away from her. “Time to go.”
Valetta nodded, her own face mirroring his feelings back at him. “If we must.”
Chisik Lodge was a huge house, set high up on the hillside, overlooking and dominating the scenic bay known as Snug Harbor. Valetta stood at the window of the room she was to share with Samson, looking out at the snowy mountains in the distance. If only they were here in this stunning location to just explore that view and each other.
There had been a moment back there on the boat, just after he had told her about Anna, when she had allowed herself a moment of hope. An instant in which she’d believed there might be a future for them. Then reality had come crashing back down and she’d almost started laughing hysterically. Even if they weren’t on their way to an encounter with Chastel, there was still the matter of who she was. I’m Shadow Born. No one is ever going to want me for who I am because who I am is monstrous. There was no denying the sexual attraction between them. It was explosive, sizzling constantly, even when they weren’t touching or even looking at each other. Why would Samson, who has known true love, want me, tainted as I am, for any reason other than sex? The answer came back loud, clear, and unchanging. He wouldn’t.
The room was glorious, with slanting eaves and golden pine–paneled walls. Fur rugs on the floor, brightly embroidered throws, and drapes depicting hunting scenes added to the authentic atmosphere. It felt like a warm hug in this coldly beautiful end-of-the-world place.
Valetta was roused from her thoughts as the door opened and Samson came in. “I’ve told the others to get some rest. Lowell has been in touch with an anthropologist who knows the history of these cave drawings. They are so well protected that special permission is needed for us to view them. This friend of Lowell’s will be here tomorrow. He’s bringing with him the curator of the Museum of Natural History.”
Valetta smiled. “So until then we are on vacation?”
He returned the smile and she was struck again by his physical presence. It wasn’t just his size or his good looks. It was him. Samson reeled her in, his impact on her senses powerful and overwhelming. When she was with him, everything faded but him. Even the awfulness of the massacre of the Guardians, Chastel, the truth about her birth. They didn’t go away, they just became less because Samson was so much more.
I can’t help it. I don’t even know if the Shadow Born are supposed to be able to feel love. It doesn’t matter. I know I love Samson Lee with everything I have in me.
It occurred to her that, if she hadn’t already met him, she would need to find him. It was a curious thought. I’m meant to love him. No one else. I was put here, in this place, in this time, to love Samson Lee. In that instant, she knew it beyond doubt. Her feelings for him went beyond love. She captured the knowledge, holding on to it. If I didn’t already know Samson, how would I find him? It’s a great big world out there and we are just two people. She didn’t know the answer to her question, but something deep within her told her she would have made it happen. There was an element in her psyche telling her this man was part of her. And that he had to be in her life, no matter what. Is this part of my Shadow heritage? She felt a wry smile trying to form on her lips. Are we the werewolf equivalent of a stalker?
Her thoughts must have showed on her face because Samson was regarding her with a puzzled expression. “Everything okay?”
“I just had the strangest thought. I know so little about who I am, but I think my mother was compelled to seek my father out and be with him. I don’t think she chose him at random.” Valetta frowned, trying to find the words to express her thoughts more clearly. “I was meant to be born when and where I was. I was meant to be Hendrik Rickard’s daughter.”
His smile tugged at her heart. “I’m glad not to be hearing any more talk of abominations.”
She bit her lip. “I still feel that, but I also got a glimmer just now that maybe I was born for a purpose.” She couldn’t say And that my purpose is linked to you. Now, that really would sound stalker-ish. “So am I under orders to rest as well?”
Samson nodded. “Of course.”
Valetta turned to survey the room. Extending her hand, she indicated the two huge beds. While her heart seemed to have developed an extra beat, she tried to keep her voice light. “Which one do you want?”
When she turned her head, Samson’s gaze almost scorched the flesh from
her body. “The same one as you.”
Valetta closed the distance between them with a whimper, wrapping herself around him. Samson lifted her against him, holding her with one hand beneath her buttocks and the other at the back of her neck so he could kiss her long and hard.
“You have no idea how much I needed to do that,” he said when he finally came up for air.
“Oh, I have.” Valetta gave a shaky laugh. “I needed it, too.”
Still holding her, he walked them over to the bed. Halting at the edge, he lowered her to her feet. “Lose the clothes.”
For once, Valetta was happy to ignore the alpha-ness and follow his orders. She complied so fast her movements were a blur. At the same time, Samson was shrugging out of his own clothes and she was free to feast her eyes on that glorious body she had seen up on the ridge when they’d run together as wolves. She shivered with anticipation. He was beautiful. Big, hard, and achingly ready for her.
Following the direction of her gaze, Samson gripped his erect cock in one hand, pumping it slowly. “Is this what you want, Valetta?”
The movement was the most erotic thing she had ever seen. She couldn’t take her eyes off him. “Yes. Please.”
“Then this is what you’re going to get. All of it.”
With that, he tipped her back onto the bed, breaking her fall with one arm beneath her. His weight on top of her should have been too much. Instead, it felt like heaven. She squirmed beneath him, lifting her hips, pressing upward impatiently. With a soft laugh, Samson moved to one side and she huffed.
Raising himself on one elbow, he studied her face. “You are so beautiful, Valetta.” His hand made a leisurely trail down her body, pausing to caress her breasts.
“I can still be beautiful with you inside me.” She blushed at her own daring. Who’d have believed she could say such things to a man? But how could he stand to take things slowly? Didn’t he know she was going mad with desire?
“I told you you’ll get everything you want. Have a little patience.” He slid a hand down, parting her thighs and moving his fingertips up to explore the warmth between them. “You’re so fucking wet.”
“I’m always wet for you.” She moaned softly as his fingers probed deeper. “Always, Samson.”
Her moan became a whimper as he shifted position, replacing his fingers with his tongue. A sudden rush of liquid fire to her core made her twine her fingers in his hair and push herself up to him. The feel of his tongue sliding back and forth along her folds instantly took her to dizzying heights, leaving her teetering the edge of the precipice. Samson paused, his broad shoulders and back arching upward as he breathed her in.
He let out a low groan that vibrated right through Valetta’s whole body. “Your scent is like a drug. I’m addicted to you. I love knowing that this is just for me.”
He gave her swollen clit a long suck before piercing her with his tongue.
“Oh, dear God!” She was already convulsing around him, hovering on the brink of a climax. He moved his mouth away, ignoring her moan of protest. Holding her thighs apart, he pushed her into her mattress, exposing her to his gaze. Valetta watched his face, loving the proud, exultant look in his eyes as he feasted on her body.
When he entered her, it was hard, fast, and without warning. His lips crushed hers in a bruising kiss, his tongue taking advantage of her surprised gasp, claiming her mouth as skillfully as his cock owned her body. He drove into her in a frenzy. Never easing the pace, he rose above her, pumping a steady, relentless rhythm. Her ache for him spiraled and built, growing outward from her sex until her whole body burned with the fury of it. When she clenched around him, it felt as if her soul were gripping his. Each time she tightened her muscles, Samson fucked her harder. They couldn’t get enough of each other, couldn’t let each other go.
When her orgasm hit her, it stripped everything from her, breaking her down so that she had no defense against the savage wave of pleasure that crashed into her like a giant wrecking ball. She bucked hard against Samson, and he continued pulling back and slamming into her, gripping her hips as he moved toward his own release. His cock swelled, stretching her even further. Then he slammed deep one final time, before stopping. Valetta felt him pulsing inside her as he came. He lifted her with his hands beneath her buttocks, tight and close, still piercing her with his cock so she could feel his release.
Finally, when their bodies had finished shuddering, he moved to one side and drew her into his arms. “Now we get some rest.”
Chapter Eleven
There were a few dwellings on Ulu, but nowhere for a group as large as theirs to stay overnight, so they took camping gear with them on the boat. Lowell’s friend Emvin Jones explained that the caves were of such historic significance and were in such a delicate condition, that their exact location was a closely guarded secret from the outside world.
“Once we have set up camp on Ulu, we then have a challenging kayak journey ahead of us to reach the caves themselves,” he explained.
Once Emvin had outlined the challenges ahead of them, Samson had been keen to get started immediately. Emvin and his colleague Fergus Campbell both seemed to know a huge amount about the Ulu wolf drawings and he figured they could tell them the details during the journey. Both men seemed undismayed when confronted by eight people, all with similar and very distinctive coloring. If it did bother them, they didn’t comment. Samson thought it was a good indicator of how well they would work with the brotherhood. It usually was. Some people asked casually if they were all related. Others cast fearful glances while studiously not mentioning it. Another group sidled slowly out the nearest exit. The ones who just accepted it, the way Emvin and Fergus seemed inclined to do, tended to be the most useful.
Of course, Emvin and Fergus didn’t know they were werewolves, so eating raw meat, wandering around naked, and shifting were all banned in front of the new arrivals. It cast something of a gloom over the brotherhood, but it couldn’t be helped.
Emvin was a quiet, studious man in his early forties, who looked like he spent his spare time poring over the same sort of websites and magazines Lowell delighted in. Wolf porn, Samson liked to call it, just because it wound Lowell up when he did. Fergus was younger and brasher, with something of a swagger to him. Samson saw Jenny and Valetta exchange a knowing girls-only look when they first met him. He was pleased to see the two women bonding. Jenny was about the most down-to-earth female werewolf he knew, totally at ease with both her human and wolf sides. Valetta could use a friend like her. Once this mess was over, she would need someone to guide her through the process of learning to like herself.
The weather had changed dramatically, and, as they sailed out into Tuxedni Bay, the clouds were dense and the wind fierce. The mountains had disappeared behind the low-slung gray murk. The riptide action in this part of the world could be brutal, and Wilder had a lengthy conversation with the taciturn captain who was taking them across to Ulu.
“He said the currents out at Ulu are ugly, and exposed sandbanks on the approach can make it dangerous at the best of times. The wind, called a williwaw, blows straight down off the mountains into the sea. It can rip up fifty-foot trees by their roots and throw them into the inlet we need to sail through.” Wilder offered Samson an apologetic grimace. “There’s a reason why Ulu is barely inhabited and hardly ever visited. If the inlet looks too dangerous when we get there, he’ll turn back.”
Samson muttered a curse before the two men went below to join the others. Why were these things never straightforward? The brotherhood had access to plenty of cash. Each Arctic werewolf living in the human world paid a proportion of his or her earnings into a fund to keep this force going. Blessed with the genes of strength and intelligence, Arctic werewolves tended to make a success of their human careers. It meant plenty of money flowed this way. It didn’t mean Samson wanted to waste it on pointless journeys.
The boat had a large single cabin with a central table and narrow bench all the way around. At a push, t
hey could all sit around it together. The swaying of the boat meant they were thrown against each other. It’s a good job we know each other so well. As he had the thought, Samson realized Valetta, who was sitting next to Fergus, appeared uncomfortable. Such close proximity to a stranger wouldn’t be a pleasant experience for her. He threw her a sympathetic glance and she responded with a half smile.
Fergus was talking about the wolf paintings on Ulu. “They are even older than the ones found at Tuxedni, but we can’t put an exact date on them. The remoteness of the site suggests it was a sacred place, the location known only to a few. At one time, skilled shamans—those charged with the task of interceding between the material and supernatural worlds—would perform their ceremonies in the darkness of a cave, recording the details of the ritual in paintings on the walls.”
“Is that what happened in this cave on Ulu?” Samson asked.
“It’s the most popular theory. The other is that the paintings are a series of stories being told on the walls of this cave. What’s interesting is that one of the creatures is a hybrid, neither beast nor human. Some scholars have speculated that this is the only known cave drawing of a lycanthrope.” He cleared his throat slightly pompously. “In case you didn’t know, that means—”
“A werewolf. Yeah, we knew,” Madden interrupted, a hint of sarcasm in his tone. Samson shot him a warning glance.
“So why do you guys need to know about the Ulu cave wolves?” Fergus asked.
“It’s for a documentary we’re making.” Samson used the cover story they’d come up with to explain their presence in this part of the world. “About the origin of the legend of the werewolf.”
Emvin took over. “Lowell asked me along because I also know about the cave paintings, but also because of my knowledge about werewolf bounty hunters.”
The mood changed instantly. The information Fergus had imparted was interesting, but this was personal. This small cabin was packed full of people who would be the prey of any self-respecting werewolf bounty hunter. Plus, they had all seen for themselves exactly what the greatest hunter of them all, Jean Chastel, was capable of.
