by J. D. Tyler
Taking a shaky breath, she nodded. “What do we do now?”
“Well, mates are almost always stronger together than they are apart. I suggest I remain here with my team while we’re battling this new threat to your coven. We take the time we need to cement our bond. Then, when things settle down, we can decide where to live.”
The last part gave her pause. One of them would have to move away from family and friends. Calla or a guard could teleport Nick back and forth to work at the Alpha Pack’s compound, but he should probably live on-site. That meant—
“You’re thinking too hard.” Smiling, he ran a finger down her cheek. “One step at a time, okay?”
“Sounds like the best solution.” She tried to relax. “So, when are you busting me out of here?”
“Patience, baby. You just woke up after a pretty serious scare, and the doctor needs to clear you before I take you back to your chambers for complete bed rest. No arguments.”
“You’re quite the hard-ass, Commander,” she teased.
“And don’t you forget it.” He paused, growing serious again. “I have to ask. Did they touch you, sexually?” The last word was soft, as though he’d forced it out.
“That wasn’t on the leader’s agenda. The hunters planned on it, though, but never got the chance. You rescued me before that happened.”
He practically slumped in relief. “Okay. I’m sorry. I just had to know. If they had, I wanted to make sure you got help. Counseling, something.”
“Thank you. But it didn’t happen, so I want you to forget that part. I have a question of my own, though.”
“Whatever you need to know.”
“Did you and Tarron . . .” She swallowed, pushing down the dread of his next answer. “Did you see the videos of wh-what they did to me?”
His blue eyes darkened with anger. Sorrow. “Yes. I’m sorry. I ran out to start tracking you while that monster was torturing you the first time, but I watched the rest of the recordings with Tarron a short while ago.”
“Why?” she whispered, the shame rushing back.
His reply was gentle. “To see if we could get any evidence off the recordings.”
“Evidence? Didn’t you guys get the vampire? Is he dead?”
“No,” he said, voice betraying his frustration. “He got away.”
That news filled her with terror. “Any idea who he is?”
“Not yet. But we will figure it out, and when we do, he’s going to die. Painfully.” He looked so fierce, she had to give in to a small smile.
“I’ll cheer when you get him.”
“Bloodthirsty mate.”
“Literally.” Nick paled. She must’ve said something wrong—shit. “I’m not a danger to you, or to anyone I care about. I could never hurt you, ever. Please believe me.”
“I do. It’s just hard for me to shut out what Carter put me through and move on.” He shook his head. “I believe you. In you. I just have to get past the mind fuck he left for me, and I’m going to do it.”
“That’s a good attitude, but don’t rush yourself,” she advised. “He put you through a terrible trauma. That’s not something a person just gets over, like they’re suffering from a cold.”
“Do vampires even get colds?”
“No, and quit trying to distract me while I’m lecturing you.” She frowned at him, and he laughed.
“I’d never presume. I’m looking forward to an eternity of listening to my beautiful mate.”
“Ha! You’ll listen, but will you heed what I say?”
He arched a black brow. “If it’s in our best interest as mates, yes. If I feel you’re clearly wrong, then no.”
“I see how this is going to be.” She sighed.
“That’s what you get for hooking up with the Alpha of the Alphas. You don’t buy steak expecting bologna.” His grin said he was very much enjoying their small bit of sparring.
“Good grief,” she murmured, rolling her eyes. She liked his teasing as well. “Get me out of here, please? If I have to rest, I’d rather do it in my own bed.”
“Anything for the princess.”
His tone when he said “princess” wasn’t mocking, but rather lightly teasing, so she let it pass. A short time later, she was released with strict instructions to rest for at least two days. Then Nick seated her in a wheelchair, over her strenuous protests, and rolled her to her chambers, where he lifted her into his arms and carried her to bed.
“I kind of like this part,” she told him, resting her head on his broad chest.
“Me, too. But next time I’ll be carrying you to bed for a much happier reason.”
The idea made her hot inside, flushed and feverish. She wanted him again. Couldn’t wait for him to claim her. She just hoped he allowed her to do the same, because if he didn’t—
No. That didn’t bear thinking about. And she wasn’t going to tell him, either, and have him feel guilty. Nick had to allow it of his own free will. She wouldn’t accept him if he was afraid or felt coerced.
Once she was settled, he leaned over and kissed her. “Rest.”
She didn’t want to, but had no choice. Her eyes closed and she surrendered to healing sleep.
* * *
When Calla awoke the next morning, she was alone.
She didn’t much like it, and wondered where Nick could be. Probably working with Tarron and his team to locate the rogue vampire and the hunters helping him. That alliance made no sense yet. But Nick and her brother’s men would learn the reason if it took weeks or longer.
Rising, she pushed from the bed and took stock. She definitely felt better, though she was hungry. Blood was on the menu this morning and it pained her that it couldn’t be Nick’s. He could donate it to her in a cup, but that wasn’t what she wanted. She’d drink from her mate’s vein or not at all.
A donor it would have to be, then. Picking up the phone, she called for a pint and grimaced. Taking any blood from a mug was disgusting to her, but now that she had a new mate-to-be in her life, there was no chance she’d drink from other male and rouse his protective instincts. His jealousy. An angry, possessive mate was never a good thing.
The pint was delivered and the guard at the door took a sip to make sure it hadn’t been tampered with. After a moment, he deemed it safe and left her alone. This was a new measure and she hated the necessity, but after recent events she was hardly going to argue.
Curling up on her sofa, she sipped the lukewarm blood and flipped through a magazine. Try as she might, it didn’t take away the heavy knowledge of today’s significance. The anniversary of the day Stefano was kidnapped. Sorrow crept in, softer and more muted than in years past, not quite as debilitating. Because of Nick, the loss was bearable.
As if she’d summoned him, there was a knock on the door just before the commander stepped inside and closed it behind him.
“Hey,” she said, tossing the magazine aside. “Where have you been?”
“In a meeting with your brother and our men.” He crossed the room in a few strides and sat, gathering her into his lap. “Are you all right?”
Leaning back, she cupped his face and kissed him. “What makes you ask?”
“Tarron told me what today means to you.” His expression was one of concern, not jealousy or anger.
She swallowed hard. “Yeah.”
“Is there anything I can do, baby?” He stroked her hair.
“I’m okay. It’s gotten a bit easier over the years.”
“But it never goes away,” he told her. “I understand, believe me. When Darrow murdered Jennifer, I thought my world had ended. And in a very real sense, it had. For a long time I just wanted to follow her to the other side, but something held me back.”
“Hope,” she guessed. “Somewhere, deep down, you hoped to reconcile with your daughter one day.”
“I like to think that was it, and not that I was too big a coward to end it.”
“I don’t believe that.” She fell quiet for a moment, and then a
sked, “What was the mistake you made? Will you tell me now?”
His heart pounded under her palm as she laid it on his chest. He held her gaze as he responded. “I knew it was wrong to try to change the future. But I used my power as a PreCog to save Selene from being murdered by a rogue vampire—Carter Darrow. All it accomplished was turning his attention from my daughter to my mate. I saved Selene but caused Jennifer’s murder in her place.”
“Oh, Nick. I’m so sorry.”
“Selene blamed me for years, thinking I’d actively and purposely killed her mother, and came here not too long ago intending to kill me. She met Zander then, and her plans didn’t quite turn out as she’d thought they would.”
“At least you’ve reconciled.”
“For the most part, yes.” He nuzzled her neck. “But enough about me. What about you? Do you want to talk about it?”
“There isn’t much to say,” she said sadly. “Stefano was caught by hunters during what should have been a simple trip to town. He just vanished into thin air. Eventually the hunters responsible couldn’t resist sending me a taunt in the form of a lock of his hair and a ring I’d given him. Then a finger.”
“That’s sick.” His anger was palpable.
“It was. Tarron and his men scoured the countryside, and they found him eventually. But it was too late. He was chained to an iron bed frame, dead of starvation. They just left him there to die slowly,” she finished in a whisper.
“I’m sorry. I’ll never understand how people can be so cruel, and evil.”
“We are not undead.” She shook her head. “We’re living creatures. We’re born, we fall in love, we bleed, and we can die. Yet we’re less than human to them. Less than nothing. They had no right to take my mate from me, but it’s done and can’t be changed. A part of me will always love him, but I want you to know that I’m glad I found you.”
“We found each other.” He traced her face with his fingertips, his touch gentle.
“Yes.”
Climbing off his lap, she stood and held out her hand. This man and his wolf were her future.
It was time to lay the past to rest. For both of them.
Eight
Nick pushed to his feet, anticipation making his pulse skip. Calla sensed his unspoken need, and reflected it. When she took his hand, he went willingly, following a step behind as she led him down the hall to her bedroom. Then she turned and placed her palms on his chest, their warmth branding him through his T-shirt.
“Make love to me, Nick. No mating rules, just us.”
“Making love involves no rules between mates anyway. It’s whatever feels right.” He kissed her lips. “I won’t push you into anything you’re not ready for.”
“This feels right, with you. I say we play the rest by ear.”
“I’m all for that.”
She tugged at the bottom of his shirt and pulled the material up, over his head. He helped her, smiling as she tossed it aside and went for the button on his jeans. She unzipped his fly and parted the material, pushing at the denim until his cock sprang free.
They were together. He and Calla. That knowledge thrilled him almost as much as her tongue flicking out to capture the tiny bead weeping from the slit of the spongy head. He groaned as she took him in her mouth, surrounding him with wet heat. Threading his fingers through her hair, he fed her his cock, guiding the length down her throat, watching it disappear between her lips.
“God, yes,” he breathed. “I need this. Your mouth on me feels so damned good. I could fuck you like this all day.”
The pure pleasure was too electric, zinging little shocks of delight to his balls, through his belly. He wouldn’t last long this way, but he wasn’t ready to give up the feeling just yet. With her on her knees, sucking him and taking his less than gentle thrusts with obvious enthusiasm, he had no trouble believing he could die happy just like this.
He was going to love being her mate.
“Stop, baby. I don’t want to come yet.” She pulled off his cock with a moan of frustration and he smiled. “Don’t worry. We’re not done by a long shot. Undress for me.”
He held out a hand for her and helped her stand. She bit her lip, looking vulnerable. Was she having second thoughts already? Did she want to back out? Then her expression cleared, became more confident, as she held his gaze and slowly peeled off her blouse, dropping it. He feasted his eyes on her full breasts, the rosy nipples pouty, begging for his teeth.
Untying her pajama bottoms, she pushed them past her hips and down, taking the lacy scrap of panties with them. She stood naked before him, skin pale and creamy, a dark triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs begging him to explore.
She reached for him, and he took her hand, gesturing to her big, comfy bed. “I want you up there, on your back, knees bent and feet flat.” He was pleased by the hunger in her eyes as she arranged herself on the covers. “Now spread your knees wide so I can see all of you.”
Again, she did as he asked. Her thighs parted, revealing her pink slit, already wet. More evidence that she was turned on by his taking control and was eager for more. He toed off his boots and pushed his jeans the rest of the way off, then sat on the bed near her feet.
“Good girl. Look how pretty you are, already wet for me. Now I want you to touch yourself.”
“Nick,” she said, voice husky. Her pupils dilated and her breasts heaved with desire. His wolf could smell her heightened scent and growled in approval.
“Do it for me, honey. Finger yourself. Let me see you get excited.”
For a second he thought she might argue, but instead her fingers slid down her belly and through the curls. The pad of one finger touched the small nub and began to work it in slow, rhythmic circles.
“You’re so beautiful,” he praised, glad he could still speak. His erection strained, demanding he take her. But not yet. “Now lower. Spread that sweet cream all over your slit, and then finger-fuck yourself.”
No hesitation this time. She was getting into their play, preparing herself for him. Her thighs were spread and relaxed, tension gone, her posture completely open to him. Her slender fingers began to massage her slit, dipping into her channel, fucking herself as her hips arched off the bed. The sight was so naughty, so provocative, he nearly came just from watching.
“Ooh . . . Nick, please!”
“Tell me what you need, beautiful,” he encouraged, moving closer.
“Nick, fuck me! Please!”
“Anything for my mate.” Moving between her thighs, he positioned his cock at her opening, cupped her bottom, and lifted her, then sank into her slick channel.
“Oh! Oh, gods, yes,” she cried.
He started with slow thrusts, angling deep. Watched his rod impale her again and again, until a warning tingle began at the base of his spine and his balls tightened. Wouldn’t be long.
Lowering her bottom, he covered her body with his and gathered her to his chest, wanting this closeness when they came together. The sense of completeness. He fucked her hard and fast, their breaths mingling. Drove them higher.
“Claim me,” she gasped. “Make me yours!”
His wolf roared at the words they’d both been waiting to hear. “Are you sure?”
“Yes!”
She offered her neck, and his fangs lengthened faster than they ever had.
“Ah, fuck!” he yelled, every muscle locking down as he pumped his load inside her. He could stand it no longer, and struck, clamping his jaws onto the curve of her neck and shoulder, burying his fangs deep. She cried out and clung to his shoulders, riding out the wave, milking his cock. Bathing him with heat.
Suddenly, he felt them being enveloped in a brilliant white light. It grew, swelled, so intense he thought his body might explode. And then the light burst into a million stars, wringing a fresh orgasm from him, which he pumped into her channel.
From the stardust, an invisible golden thread spanned between them from Nick to his new mate, wound itself tightly between
their two souls. Bound them as one in the way of his kind.
“I feel that,” she gasped. “It’s incredible.”
“Me, too. And, yes, it is.” He kissed her face, any part of her in reach.
When the last of their spasms subsided, he carefully released her shoulder and collapsed over her, sweaty and panting. And more satisfied than he’d been in decades. “Thank you,” he whispered. “So much.”
“It felt right.”
“Yes, and it was right.”
She gazed up at him, and there was such raw emotion on her face as she asked the question he’d known was coming. “Can I claim you, too? I want that so much.”
A vampire’s fangs. In my flesh.
A cold chill seized his heart, but he took a deep breath and said, “I want that, too.”
Excited, hopeful, she rose up a bit and leaned over him. He closed his eyes, just letting himself feel as she began to place soft kisses on his face and neck. She stroked his chest, playing with a hard nipple, something he loved. The touches sent tiny little shocks of pleasure through his body, and he thought maybe he could do this. For Calla, and himself.
Pleasure warred against the fear. Nick cocked his head, presenting his neck, and tried to ignore how his blood pressure shot through the roof.
“Relax,” she said, smoothing a palm over his chest. “Your heart is racing and I can practically scent your fear.”
“I’m all right. Just do it.”
A frown creased her brow. “My claiming you shouldn’t be something you have to endure.”
“I know, and I’m fine. Go ahead.” He gave her a half smile.
She smoothed a finger over his jaw, her expression so tender he could’ve wept. “Nick, I can’t do this when you’re obviously not ready. My claiming should be done with joy on both our parts—”
“Calla, I said I’m fine—”
“No, Nick. This isn’t the time.”
Oh, God. Did she have any idea how emasculated he felt right now? How ashamed? He kissed her gently and slid from the bed. “I’m going to see Tarron, check on any progress with catching the vampire who took you. I’ll see you later.”
