by Zoe Chant
She took a large sip, which she instantly regretted. It burned its way down her throat. Trying to pitch her voice below werewolf hearing, she murmured, “Is there a drink here that does not taste of chemicals dissolved in sugar?”
She failed miserably; a few stifled snickers rose from across the room. But they sounded amused rather than offended, as did Nick’s open laugh.
“It’s okay. You didn’t insult the cook.” Nick waved at Kate. “How about lemonade for my mate? And a glass of water as backup. And coffee. Second back-up.”
“I do like the burger,” Raluca said. “And the fries.”
Nick grinned and flicked his fingers at her near-empty plate. “I can tell. They make the lemonade here, so you might like that better. No chemicals.”
“Good.” She pushed the revolting soda to Nick, who drank it with apparent enjoyment. “Is that very American?”
He laughed again, but not in mockery. It was good to see him so open and cheerful. “Coke is as American as it gets. It’s okay. Lucas won’t drink it either, or anything else that comes in a can. Might be a dragon thing. Tell you what, when I take you to a bar, I’ll buy you a beer on tap. He likes those.”
When I take you to a bar. Nick’s words echoed in Raluca’s ears as she finished her fries. She knew without asking that he would take her to his favorite bar, or would carefully select one he thought she’d like. There would be no more hairballs. Nick was showing her the best he thought his country had to offer. She wished she could do the same for him.
“Lemonade,” Kate said. Her voice quavered, as if she was trying not to laugh. “Coffee. And water. Tell you what, if you hate everything but the water, just tell me what you do like to drink, and I’ll have it for you for next time.”
“Thank you,” Raluca said as Kate hurried off, clearly not wanting to put her on the spot by watching her reaction.
Raluca tried the lemonade. It was overly sweet for her taste, though drinkable. The coffee, however, was excellent. Nick drank his Coke in pace with her, keeping her company. Though he never stopped keeping watch, and she was sure that should danger strike, he would instantly spring to action, he seemed relaxed and happy.
They sat drinking their coffee in companionable quiet, listening to the music. It was Nick’s world, not Raluca’s, but he’d invited her in and she’d been welcomed. She would have been even if she’d hated both burgers and Johnny Cash, she felt sure. If necessary, they’d have turned off the jukebox, or cooked something to her specifications. They’d all seemed so glad for Nick, they’d clearly have done anything to make his mate feel at home.
Her gaze traveled around the diner. Most of the people were older than Nick, some by twenty years or more. She pictured him at eighteen, alpha of a pack full of wolves his father’s age, some friendly and some plotting against him. Even then, he’d had enough steel and fire in him to dominate them for years. If he’d been willing to sacrifice Manuel to save himself, he’d probably be ruling the pack now.
If she’d been willing to accept being nothing but a queen, she’d probably be ruling Viorel now.
“I am very glad we made the choices we did,” Raluca said softly.
Nick’s sharp gaze scanned the diner, then returned to her. He reached across the table to clasp her hand. “Me too.”
Chapter Nine
Nick
Nick waited in the locker room for Raluca to emerge from the bedroom.
When they’d returned from the diner, Destiny had given Raluca her dance lesson while Nick had gone over their plans in more detail with Rafa. Then Rafa and Destiny left together to stake out the nightclub, and Raluca appeared in one of the business suits. He had no idea what she intended to wear to the nightclub, other than that Destiny had seen and approved it. When it got close to the time, Raluca had watched him change into black jeans and his black leather jacket with obvious enjoyment, then vanished into the room with the clothes rack and shut the door on him.
The door opened. Nick’s jaw dropped.
“Surprise,” Raluca said.
He didn’t know what he’d expected, but it hadn’t been this. Incredulously, he looked her over from head to toe, and then started over again at her feet.
She wore a pair of black leather shoes decorated with what looked like diamonds... Well, it was Raluca, so maybe they really were diamonds. They looked like she’d cut out pieces of the night sky to wear on her feet.
Above the shoes, her legs seemed to go up forever. Her skirt was made of multicolored sequins and was as short as a skirt could get. She spun in place, sending it flaring out around her until her thighs seemed surrounded by exploding fireworks.
Dazzled, Nick could barely tear his eyes from her lower body. But he did, because her upper body was encased in a black leather corset so closely molded to her body that he could see every breath she took. The heart-shaped top cupped and lifted her breasts, displaying the creamy globes almost down to her nipples. Her glittering dragonmarks stood out spectacularly against the black, as did her long, loose silver hair.
She had jewelry on too, but he barely registered it. He kept coming back to that barely-there glitter skirt, the fucking black leather corset, Raluca’s daring in buying this outfit on her very first day in America, her legs, her breasts, her wine-red lips, and the joy radiating from every gorgeous bit of her.
“Well?” she said. “What do you think?”
“That is the fucking sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Nick managed, then corrected himself. “You’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
“Even though I was angry with you when I purchased it, I chose it so we’d match. I knew you’d wear that jacket again. It’s hot, too.” Her teasing smile sent a nearly unbearable wave of desire through his body. “You’re hot.”
Nick wished he could rush her back to the bedroom for a quickie. But Destiny and Rafa would worry if they were late. Maybe after the nightclub...
He grinned. “Let’s go dancing.”
Nick scoped out the nightclub as they pulled up. The sidewalk was crowded, but he spotted Rafa outside, apparently waiting to get in, and knew his teammate wouldn’t have missed any danger.
They walked toward the club. A pounding hip-hop beat spilled out the door, along with flashing multicolored lights. He glanced at her to see if the music annoyed her, but she seemed unconcerned.
“Destiny play you some better hip-hop?” Nick asked.
Raluca gave him another bewitching smile. “Destiny showed me all sorts of things. You shall see.”
As Nick passed Rafa, he moved as if he was pushing past, getting close enough to catch Rafa’s barely-whispered, “All clear. Destiny’s inside.”
Nick nodded and escorted Raluca past the bouncer, who had been tipped in advance to let them in. The interior was hot and crowded, loud and perfumed with scents and sweat and alcohol. He scanned the room, looking for Destiny. She stood with the same seeming casualness as Rafa, leaning against the bar with a drink in hand. As he caught her eye, she nodded as if responding to something the bartender had said, sending him another “all clear” signal.
Nick led Raluca further in. She looked around with the same delight he’d seen light up her face when they’d passed the mural on the one good part of that fucking idiotic road trip, when she’d taken her first bite of a Kate and Dan’s burger, when she’d listened to Bonnie Raitt, when she’d tried on shoes at that fancy shop. When she’d first touched him. Every time she touched him.
After every terrible thing that had happened to her, after an entire lifetime under the thumb of a man determined to crush her spirit and destroy her personality, Raluca had every reason to see the world through dark-tinted glasses. But instead, she sought out happiness wherever she went.
Nick tried to put himself in her shoes and see the nightclub as she saw it, as a place of beauty and wonder.
Bright lights flashed in a pattern, casting a kaleidoscope of moving colors onto the dancers on the floor. People were everywhere, laughing, drinking,
dancing, kissing, all dressed to kill. The air seemed to vibrate with energy, and the beat of the music throbbed through his body.
The DJ, a punk Asian guy with a lot of piercings and spiked blue hair, snapped the fingers of one hand to the beat and scratched the record with the other.
A curvy black woman stood against the wall, kissing a muscular white guy with green eyes and black hair just brushing his shoulders. She was maybe 5’3” and he was at least 5’10”, but she stood on her tip-toes and he bent down, caressing her back and sides.
A woman with brown eyes and olive skin set down her drink and moved to the dance floor. As she made a graceful spin, her rich dark purple hair flew out, giving Nick a glimpse of a butterfly tattoo behind her ear.
Everyone seemed to be having the time of their lives. Nick was too. Even though he couldn’t kiss Raluca with Destiny watching, even though he was on duty and couldn’t dance with her, even though the reason he was on duty was that his mate was in danger, none of that could cast a shadow over his joy. He had a pack, his mate loved him, he was confident that he could protect her, and he felt at peace with himself for the first time in at least ten years. How could he not be happy?
“Can I buy you a drink?” Nick asked.
“Certainly,” Raluca said.
They didn’t touch, but they didn’t need to. Nick could feel the bond between them, unbreakable as steel and living as their own hearts. It told him that Raluca felt the same joy that he did, the same simple, unmatchable pleasure at being alive and in love.
He escorted her to the bar. Remembering the couture shop, he said, “A cocktail. Refreshing. Not too sweet. Rum and Coke for me.”
When the bartender brought their drinks, Nick raised his glass. “Cheers.”
Instead of clinking glasses, Raluca held up her other hand to halt him. Softly, so only he could hear, she said, “What does it mean to wolves, to drink from another’s hands? When I did it in the dressing room, I only intended to tease and flirt. But when you drank, I could feel that it meant something more to you. When you told me your story, you said it was like becoming blood brothers. Is that the only meaning?”
Nick shook his head, then leaned in close and spoke quietly. “No. It depends on what sort of relationship you already have. If you’re friends, then yeah, it’d be blood brothers. That’s what my wolf thought Protection, Inc. was doing. And I guess he was right. But if you’re in love, it’s like getting engaged. The person who drinks is saying that they mean to give themself and hold nothing back. Usually, you’d both do it together. But even then in the dressing room, I did mean it.”
“So you have already done your part,” Raluca said thoughtfully. “Are there words?”
“Yeah.”
“Tell them to me.”
Nick saw where she was headed. He glanced at Destiny, who was scanning the crowd, then shrugged inwardly. If she saw, she saw. This was more important. “‘I drink from your hands. I give you my heart.’”
“If you will, Nick.” Raluca indicated his rum and Coke. Her hand trembled, but not from fear. Only love shone in her eyes. And that quiver showed him that she understood the importance of the ritual.
All the same, Nick couldn’t help smiling as he switched their glasses. “The important part isn’t the drink, it’s the hands that hold it. This is a big moment, and you should enjoy every bit of it. So no American chemicals for you.”
Raluca’s smile answered his, then faded into solemnity. “Go on. I have memorized the words.”
Nick raised the glass to Raluca’s red-rose lips. Looking into his eyes, she spoke with sincerity and passion. “I drink from your hands. I give you my heart.”
Hearing the ancient lupine vows in his beloved dragon’s voice struck him to the heart. He had to force his hand to be steady as he tipped the glass against her lips.
Raluca drank from his hands.
Our hearts are one, as are our lives, said his wolf. Forever.
Nick echoed his wolf’s words. His voice came out gravelly, almost in a growl. “Did your dragon say anything?”
Raluca smiled. “Nothing so profound, I’m afraid. She said, ‘What took you so long?’”
Nick chuckled as he returned her drink, but his amusement didn’t break the spell. They sat together in silence, wrapped up in the awe of the bond and love of each other.
Raluca’s words echoed and re-echoed in Nick’s mind. He’d never thought much about mates until his teammates had started finding theirs, and even then, he’d never really believed that he too would find his. The few times he had imagined it, he’d vaguely pictured a completely different sort of woman, either a streetwise wolf shifter who was basically a female version of himself, or, on the theory that his teammates might be right that he needed to chill out and maybe his mate could help him with that, someone soft and submissive and sweet enough to make your teeth hurt. Neither of those imaginary women had seemed all that sexy, which was probably why he hadn’t spent much time thinking about it.
He’d never imagined himself with anyone remotely like Raluca. If someone had tried to describe her to him — a foreign princess who’d never eaten a hamburger and didn’t know how to drive because she’d always had chauffeurs, a woman who couldn’t stand to hear the word ‘fuck’ — he’d have thought he’d hate her. And he sure as hell wouldn’t have thought she’d be any sexier than the female Nick or that awful-sounding cross between a school counselor and a nurse.
But here was Raluca, the real person, in her diamond-studded dancing shoes. Raluca, who had wild sex in dressing rooms and risked her life to protect him. Raluca, the ex-princess who’d literally flown away from her entire life for a chance at freedom. Raluca, who understood his anger because she had a rage burning inside her to rival his own.
Raluca, his true love.
He’d never imagined her because she was so much more than he ever could have dreamed. He’d give his life to protect her without a second thought. But more than that, he wanted to live with her. When he’d been alpha of the gang, he hadn’t thought he’d see twenty-five, and he hadn’t much cared. Now he wanted to live to get old, just so he could spend all those years together with Raluca.
“I love you too,” she said softly, as if she’d been reading his mind.
Then she slid off the bar stool and stood up, giving him an amazing view of that wild clubbing outfit of hers. “You cannot dance with me, can you?”
Nick shook his head. “Too distracting. I will some other time, though. After we catch those fuckers.”
Raluca had obviously been expecting that, because she didn’t look too disappointed. “In that case... Want to see my new moves?”
Nick grinned at the phrase; Destiny must have taught Raluca more than just the NaeNae. “You bet.”
Raluca strode on to the dance floor. Several people watched her, curiously or with admiration. Nick bet a few women would catch her after she was done to ask her where she’d gotten those amazing tattoos.
She waited until a new song began. And then Raluca began to dance.
Her hips shimmied like they were made of water, making her glitter skirt flare out like a starburst. Her diamond heels clacked against the floor, drumming out a counterpoint to the hip-hop beat. Raluca moved with grace and beauty, lightness and precision, almost floating above the ground. Nick’s heart lifted even more as he watched his mate dance. He’d guessed she’d be good, but he hadn’t realized she’d be that good.
Nick laughed suddenly as he recognized the song: Pitbull’s “International Love.”
Raluca lifted her head and caught Nick’s eyes. His appreciation seemed to give her even more confidence. She began to dance faster, her feet a sparkling blur, tearing up the dance floor with the wildest, fiercest moves he’d seen in his life. She was getting down like a street dancer, moving with passion and sensuality, fire and grace, and doing some dirty, dirty dancing. Her long silver hair flew out like dragon wings.
At long last, Raluca was cutting loose.
&n
bsp; Nick was hypnotized. So was everyone else. The entire nightclub was watching, conversations falling silent as people stopped talking to stare, other dancers one by one coming to a halt just to watch her.
When the song finally ended, her feet slammed into the floor in perfect sync with the final beat. She stopped with her arms outstretched, going from top speed to statue-still in a heartbeat. Her hair kept moving for a moment after she stopped, then fell like silver rain. Nick leaped to his feet to cheer, and the crowd followed.
Raluca’s eyes widened in startled pleasure. She started to lift a hand to beckon to him to join her, then dropped it, obviously remembering that he couldn’t.
But maybe he could.
Nick gave her a “hang on” gesture, then cut through the crowd to where Destiny stood with her drink in hand.
“I didn’t teach her any of that,” Destiny remarked, her voice pitched so only Nick could hear. “That was one hundred percent Raluca.”
He’d figured as much. “You must’ve given her the general idea. Listen, would you mind taking over? I want to dance with her.”
The green depths of a tiger’s eyes briefly shone out from under Destiny’s usual soft brown. “I’m on it. Have fun with your mate.”
Nick started. “You know?”
“Of course I know, you idiot,” she replied cheerfully. “I’ve known all along. Why do you think I hazed her when we first met?”
“You hazed —” Nick broke off, remembering Destiny’s arm-wrestling disguised as a handshake when she and Raluca first met. “How could you tell?”
“It was obvious. Idiot. You and she were looking at each other just like every other mated couple on our team. Only more pissed off about it.” Destiny chuckled.
“Did you tell Fiona?” Nick demanded.
“Nope. She figured it out the same way I did.”
Nick groaned aloud. Suddenly so many things made sense: Destiny’s test of strength, Shane’s odd coldness, Fiona’s insults that had turned on a dime into friendliness and approval once she’d provoked Raluca into announcing that she’d care for and protect Nick. “Does everyone know?”
