Marked By The Wolf (Werewolf Fever #3)

by Juno Blake

  Ciaran sighed, his breath ruffling her hair. “I was not the only one seeking the escapees, sweetheart. Soon, one of the pack officers will realize what I did, and track them to ground here on my family lands. Don’t worry. There is no punishment for doing what I did. Delauncey and the other signed their death warrants the moment they took you.”

  He rolled over, pulling Lucy on top of him.

  “Until they arrive, I have you all to myself.”

  Gold flared in the black depths of his eyes, and he pulled Lucy into another kiss.

  CHAPTER 14

  The Pack officials arrived that afternoon and left soon after, three body-bags piled in the back of their reinforced van. Lucy was impressed. She was still naked when they turned up, but none of them so much as glanced below her collarbones.

  Probably because Ciaran would have ripped them limb from limb.

  The officials had brought clothing for her, but she ignored it. With Ciaran, she felt more comfortable naked than clothed. She still craved his touch, and clothing would only get in the way.

  More importantly, the officials had left food. Ciaran ate his steaks raw, but built a fire in the courtyard and seared slices of meat for Lucy.

  Lucy sat on his lap as he fed her. The afternoon was cool, and the sun would set soon, but the fire warmed her bare skin. As was Ciaran.

  She leaned into him, glorying in his closeness. He had been all gentleness since they bathed that morning, careful of her every need.

  But soon, night would fall. And the moon would rise.

  Lucy looked up. The sky had been clear all day, no sign of the previous day’s clouds. When the moon rose, there would be nothing for it to hide behind.

  Ciaran felt her tense with trepidation. He ran his hand down her side, resting it on her hip. “Frightened, sweetheart?”

  She looked up into his eyes. They reflected the firelight—and glowed gold, deep below the surface.

  “A little,” she admitted.

  He pulled her closer. “Perhaps you should be,” he murmured. “Because I need you to do something for me, Lucy, something I do not think you will like.” He bent his lips to her ear. “I need to you run for me.”

  The hairs on Lucy’s arms stood on end. “Do you mean…”

  “Yes, Lucy.” Ciaran nibbled at the side of her neck, above the mark. “Like last night.”

  Lucy shivered. The world seemed to creep away, darkness closing in at the edges of her vision.

  Ciaran had marked her. She was his. But what had happened the night before still terrified her. She could barely stand to think about it: Ciaran chasing her, crippling her. Trying to kill her.

  There was no point lying to herself. Even Ciaran admitted it: she could see it in the shadows that passed over his face when he looked at the pockmarked scars on her leg. The wound had healed fast, as the mate-bond increased her body’s ability to recover from injuries, but the scars would remain.

  The wolf, Ciaran, had meant to kill her. Whatever instinct had led it to mark her instead of rip out her throat, it had been a last-minute thing. Maybe it had been the taste of her blood; maybe the wolf sensed Ciaran’s claim on her, beneath Delauncey’s mark.

  Lucy’s fate had balanced on a knife-point that only by chance tipped the right way.

  She gulped. “You’ll transform again tonight?”

  “Yes. Fully, I think. Now that I have taken my wolf form once, I can feel it inside me, waiting. The moon will call it out.”

  “And you want to chase me.”

  “Yes. We will start before moonrise.” He murmured in her ear again. “I need this from you, Lucy.”

  She took a deep breath. “Then I’ll do it.”

  Even though just thinking about it made her heart freeze with terror.

  ***

  She stood at the edge of the pine forest, her skin alight with fear.

  Ciaran was behind her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I know this is difficult for you. But I know you, Lucy. You were strong enough for this even before the mark.”

  “I’m not imagining it, am I? The mark has changed me.”

  Ciaran chuckled. “It hasn’t turned you into a werewolf, if that’s what you’re wondering. Just made you stronger, faster, and increased your body’s ability to heal itself.” He swept her hair aside and nuzzled her neck. “It will make the chase so much more exciting.”

  Lucy shivered despite herself, and Ciaran bit down gently.

  “I can smell your fear, sweetheart.”

  “I am afraid,” Lucy admitted. She looked up above the tree line, where the sky was already darkening. “This isn’t like one of our games. It’s too much—too much like last night.”

  “I know.” Ciaran nipped her again, sharper this time, and she gasped. “But you must do it. For me.”

  Lucy bowed her head. Ciaran’s voice was tight with some hidden emotion. She knew part of what he was not saying: that she needed to write over the horrific events of the night before, replace them with the joy of the hunt.

  It terrified her, but it had to be done. She was Ciaran’s mate; she couldn’t live in fear of his wolf.

  But there was something else, as well. Something else Ciaran wasn’t saying. She took a deep breath, and the scent of pines sank into her lungs.

  I have to do this for him.

  Ciaran stepped back. For a moment, his touch lingered on the back of Lucy’s neck, and then he released her. “Run,” he commanded.

  Lucy ran.

  The air was cool, not yet as bitingly cold as it had been the night before. Her heart hammered in her chest, beating faster from fear, not exertion. Every step brought her closer to the terror of the previous night. Of Ciaran, her Ciaran, hunting her down.

  This is a game, she told herself, her lungs constricting. The hunt. The chase. You’ve played it before. Don’t be afraid.

  But she was. Visions of the wolf bearing down on her filled her mind. The memory of his teeth clamping down on her leg made her almost stumble, phantom pain shooting through her limb.

  Just run. Just run.

  She concentrated on her breathing, forcing control into her panicked gasps. Just run. She was on the track, but the forest was all around her, pressing against her sides and covering the sky. She was half-convinced that if she looked back, she would see trees growing over the path in her wake, boxing her in.

  Trapping her in the forest forever.

  She felt the moment Ciaran started to chase her. He made no noise, but somehow her heart knew. Her pulse fluttered and she looked up through the canopy, to the darkening sky.

  Not even the stars were out yet.

  A sudden burst of adrenaline drove Lucy on. Ciaran was chasing her. Not the wolf, not Delauncey, not some monster from her nightmares—Ciaran. Her mate.

  Fire burned through her veins with every stride. She blazed through the forest, barely feeling the stones and pine needles under her feet.

  She increased her pace. Her arms and legs were pumping, but not tired—she felt like she could run for hours. For miles.

  There was a rustle in the brush beside her. Lucy glanced sideways, glimpsing gold eyes staring back at her from the shadows. Her heart tripped over itself, but her feet kept their pace.

  Ciaran was a flicker at the corner of her eye, a wildfire licking at the edges of her mind. If he caught her, he would consume her. Not kill her, not harm her—but claim her, take her, use her completely. Here, in the cold night, where the air was rich with the scent of pine.

  Lucy’s terror washed away and she laughed out loud, flinging her head back to the sky. Now she understood what was happening. Now she remembered.

  The pine forest, the sharp chill of the air, even the moon that would soon hang like a silver eye above her—it was all from her dream. The dream that had haunted her every night since Ciaran first took her as his own.

  This was what she had been waiting for. And somehow, it had been waiting for her. This forest. This night.

  Her
body sang with exhilaration. She remembered the first time she’d had this dream. She had been frightened, then, confused by her body’s response to Ciaran’s violent passion.

  Not now. Oh, she would run. There was so much more pleasure in submission when it was truly won. But when Ciaran caught her…

  Excitement pulsed between her legs. Part of her, a very large part, wanted to fall, to lie down and give in—but that would be no fun.

  A twig cracked to her left and Lucy spun away, leaping off the path and into the forest.

  She darted through a gap in the trees and fled deeper into the woods, ducking under low-hanging branches and around thick patches of undergrowth.

  Ciaran was gaining on her. She could hear him. He moved quietly for a man of his size, but not silently. There was always some evidence of his presence. A broken twig. The creak of a branch as he pushed past it. The soft brush of pine needles against his skin.

  Or maybe he could have been silent, and these small noises were for her. Warnings. Temptations. So she would know how close he was to taking her.

  She grabbed hold of a trunk and used it to swing herself around, changing direction again. Away from her pursuer.

  She ran. In her mind, the moon was already overhead, full and shining white. She didn’t fear the creature behind her. She loved him. Her body, her soul—everything that she was, was his.

  Her foot caught under a stray root, and she fell.

  CHAPTER 15

  Lucy hit the ground and rolled, clambering to her feet again. Too late. Ciaran burst out of the forest beside her, slamming her into the ground.

  His weight forced the air from her lungs. Lucy gasped, fighting for air, as he flipped her over. The ground was a deep cold that went straight to her bones, and pine needles dug into her flesh.

  Ciaran knelt over her, an animal grin on his face. He put his hands on her shoulders and shoved her down, until pine needles cut into her like knifes.

  Lucy cried out, arching away from the ground. Ciaran pounced, ravaging her exposed nipples with ferocious passion. He bit down, and Lucy screamed, delicious pain burning a path from her breast directly to her core.

  She writhed, kicking up leaf mold and spiky needles, but Ciaran didn’t let her move. He ran one hand down her side, scraping his nails against her skin. Lucy moaned and then gasped as his hand dove between her legs.

  He teased her, rubbing his thumb over her clit so tantalizingly slowly she didn’t notice his other hand moving. He slid one finger between her folds and closed his hand around her neck at the same moment, stifling her gasp of pleasure.

  Lucy choked, her lover’s name on her lips. She moved her mouth silently and Ciaran gazed down at her, his dark eyes hooded with lust.

  “My beautiful mate,” he growled. “Do you remember the first time we met, when I asked you who broke you in?”

  Lucy tried to answer, but he was still cutting off her air. She nodded, and he shifted his thumb, stroking it over the pulse in her neck.

  “I wondered who had broken you in,” Ciaran murmured, answering his own question. He tightened his grip on Lucy’s neck and her mouth opened automatically, gasping for air. “These last few months have been difficult, I know. But now that’s all going to change. I can break you in properly, the way you deserve.”

  Lucy’s eyes widened as he lowered his head, claiming her mouth with a wild kiss. He bit savagely down on her lower lip and she whimpered, breathless, her world narrowing until there was nothing but his touch and the burning pain it left on her body.

  Her pulse beat under his thumb and he pressed down harder, holding her life in his hand. Lucy’s mind began to spin apart. Darkness threatened to overwhelm her.

  Ciaran kicked her legs apart and she succumbed, weak in his grasp. He positioned himself at her entrance. Lucy’s world was dissolving. She felt him press against her, into her, and then he thrust and she screamed.

  She was slick with desire already but Ciaran managed to draw pain with his assault on her nonetheless. He thrust into her again, brutally fast and hard, and she drew breath to scream again, to cry out—

  Too late, she realized he had released her neck. But only for a moment. She stared up at him, eyes wide. He let her breathe long enough that the shadows at the edges of her vision drew back, and then choked her again, cutting off her moans of pleasure.

  The night was darkening around them, but Lucy couldn’t tear her eyes off Ciaran. His dark eyes flashed as he watched her fight for breath, her chest jerking as her lungs desperately sought life-giving oxygen.

  Lucy’s frame shuddered under Ciaran’s powerful body. Sensation flooded through her, body and soul, a wildfire that whited out her mind. The vice-like grip on her throat loosened and she sucked in air. For one moment, the world seemed lighter, and then her whole body bucked as Ciaran closed off her throat again. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he fucked her harder.

  And all the time he was kissing her, biting her lips, and ravaging her with his cock. He pulled out and thrust in all the way, and this time Lucy screamed even through his choke-hold on her throat.

  She couldn’t be imagining it. His cock felt larger, thicker, forcing itself even deeper inside of her. Her eyes flew open.

  Ciaran was changing above her. Gold kindled in the depths of his jet-black eyes and blazed until the only black left was his pupils, wide with lust. His face seemed to flex in the moonlight, cheekbones becoming sharper, a hint of the animal behind the man.

  His body became heavier. He crushed Lucy into the ground, helpless under the powerful muscles of his wolf-man form.

  Lucy’s eyes were locked on his. Hypnotized. He grinned, fangs flashing in the moonlight that was just starting to peek through the canopy, and thrust into her again.

  He was at least twice as thick as before. Lucy’s body ached as she stretched to fit him in. He pulled back and she inhaled raggedly, but he barely gave her time to recover before pistoning into her again.

  Lucy kicked out, instinctively trying to push herself away from the brutal invasion. But there was nowhere to go. Ciaran held her in place by her neck, claws springing from the ends of his fingers and digging into her throat.

  He lowered his head and hissed in her ear, “Worried you’re going to break, sweetheart? Try that again and we’ll see how delicate your body really is.”

  Tears squeezed out of the corners of her eyes. She could feel the pulse in her neck, battering frantically against Ciaran’s clawed grip. He wouldn’t need to choke her to end her life. One swipe of those claws and her life would bleed out on the forest floor.

  Ciaran gripped her hip with his other hand, his claws digging deep into her flesh. Lucy whined as he punctured her skin, drawing blood. The pain sent white flashes of heat through her body, so intense she was caught unawares when he buried his full length inside her.

  Lucy screamed. Ciaran’s cock stretched her so tight, she was sure she would break. Every nerve inside her cried out for mercy as he plunged in again and again, assaulting her so violently she thought she would split in half.

  She gasped, every breath a ragged plea for mercy, but all that came out was Please, please—and her begging only made Ciaran more brutal. He slammed into her, and as she cried out he tightened his clawed fingers around her throat.

  Lucy was helpless beneath him. He slammed into her, again and again, bone-crushingly powerful. His cock drove mercilessly into Lucy, deeper than should have been possible. Her legs began to twitch as she lost control of her muscles.

  Her whole body writhed under Ciaran’s assault. Pleasure surged inside her, but the swell of pain was just as powerful. She was slick with desire, dripping wet for her monstrous mate, and he took advantage of it, thrusting faster, harder, grinning down at her as he choked her—

  White light burst behind Lucy’s eyes as her insides melted in magma-hot orgasm. Pleasure burnt its way through her core, so sharp it hurt. Lucy cried out and Ciaran roared above her, his yell of victory transforming into a howl.

&nb
sp; His massive cock flexed as he came, one final assault on Lucy’s sensitized core. Tears sprang from her eyes as he released her throat and she gulped in air, losing all control of her body as Ciaran filled her with his seed.

  He grabbed her by the hair, pulling her face up to his. “Do you feel that, my precious mate?” He jerked his hips against hers, locking his cock inside her. “Now that you’re mine, your body will welcome my seed. We will build a Pack together.”

  Lucy’s eyelids fluttered. She felt wrung out, overwhelmed by sensation. “A Pack?”

  Ciaran rolled onto his side, holding her to his chest. Now that he was sated, he was all gentleness again. “Yes, my love.”

  Lucy pressed her face into his chest, inhaling his scent. The fresh smell of his sweat filled her mind, and something deep inside her relaxed. This is home, she thought. This is where I belong.

  Ciaran stroked her hair. “I told you back at the safehouse, didn’t I, how damaging the loss of Pack can be to a werewolf?”

  “I remember.” Lucy wound her arms around her mate’s chest. He was still buried deep inside her, and she clung to him, knowing he was entrusting her with one of his deepest secrets.

  “My Pack used to be a strong one. We owned all this land, split between many branches of the family. Some packs live all in one great manor hall, but we built our own homes, sharing the land.”

  He sighed. “That was a hundred years ago, or more. I was the only child born of my parents’ generation. My father had two sisters, but they both died young. And then my parents…”

  Lucy held Ciaran as tension shook his muscles. She kissed his chest, and pulled herself further up, laying a trail of kisses along his collarbone and up along his jaw. “Oh, Ciaran. I’m so sorry.”

  He had told her he grew up in the ruined house, the same one his wolf had dragged her into the night before. It clearly hadn’t been lived in for decades. There could only be one reason for that.

  “They died when I was young,” Ciaran explained, his voice tense with hidden grief. “Oh, they left me well provided for, but without my own Pack… I think that was why I could never find my wolf form. Not until you.”