All the miles and electronics between them couldn’t hide the disapproval of his father’s silence.
“You know they are our Cró Cruinnithe na Clainne and not to be taken so frivolously.”
Nolan held the sigh back—barely. “Yes, Dad. I know. But I can’t pronounce that. I don’t know anyone who can, except you.”
“Then you will learn. There is another one this summer, and we are going.”
Stunned, Nolan didn’t know what to say. “This summer? This summer? Where is it being held this year?”
It’s in Chicago this year and is being hosted by Alaric Sentermain. Their family originates from Italy, and they are of the white wolves.”
His father dearly loved imparting information, and Nolan knew he should be grateful, or he’d have to ask for help more often. But how in the hell did his dad keep track of so much? He thought of the cases and the intricacies he could find and keep in his head. Maybe he should quit being so hard on his dad.
His dad continued, “The venue changes every year so as not to offend anyone or give any family more power than the others. And every two years, the leaders of the were community as a whole meet up with the families. You got out of the last one because you were on pack business.”
His father’s tone of voice suggested that even that excuse bordered on mutiny. “Dad, I need to know, is the name Justin Fullbright familiar to you? We called him Chance or Lucky because his name was the same as the pack leader’s eldest child.”
“A popular name with their pack, but yes, I remember him. He was of the third highest family, but not thought to be a true Alpha. As such, he would have been a disappointment to the leader at that time. I don’t know how the current leader of the Seathe pack thinks of him.”
Nolan was all too afraid he’d found out exactly what the current alpha thought of Justin—or Lucky as he suddenly recalled. It was Lucky’s youngest brother they called Chance.
“Why are you asking? Has something happened?”
“Yes. He’s on the list of murdered people from that area. Knifed and gutted.” Nolan pressed his lips together to keep the curses at bay then almost laughed at himself. His father didn’t believe in cursing, said it was disrespectful to do in front of the elders. Old habits died hard. Particularly with my parents.
His father’s sudden intake of breath did surprise him though. “What is it, Dad?”
“We should have heard about this through the pack elders. Since the family of the second in line for leadership died in that plane crash last year, Lucky would have been next in line for leadership. It wouldn’t have been pretty if he hadn’t grown into an Alpha, unless he married an Alpha female.”
“And since we didn’t?”
“I have to check with the elders of other packs. It’s a courtesy to other packs to inform them of a ranking member’s death so that they may send emissaries to show their respects.”
Nolan’s head hurt. Every time he thought he might get a handle on things, something new happened. His dad had always seemed just instinctively to know how to deal with these things and what the other packs expected of him.
“Wouldn’t that mean a lot of powerful people in a position to hurt them?”
“Interfering in a funeral or a family in mourning is one of our greatest punishable offenses. It is an old law but has retained its power and importance, even among the younger generations,” Nolan’s father said.
He ignored the derision with which his dad said “younger generations” and instead replied, “I know it’s one of the most common rules we have among weres, and that it’s an ancient law that all weres follow, not just the werewolves.” There, maybe his dad would be placated he at least knew something about the old ways. “Please do what you can on finding out if others knew about Lucky, and keep me informed. I particularly want to know if other locals knew, and we were the only ones not told.”
“I will, and, Son,” his dad said, the tone deepening.
“Yes?” Nolan asked.
“Whoever’s behind this, feels they can defy one of our most sacred laws. Not just to Wahpawhat but to weres everywhere, and get away with it. That person is either delusional, or—”
“Or so powerful, they’re not worried about the consequences. Yeah, I get it, Dad.”
Nolan hung up and sat staring at the statistical information on Justin. With a good name like that, why the nickname Lucky? His half-remembered thought that it was to differentiate between the different Justins, didn’t ring true to him as an adult.
But what else could it be?
Chapter Seventeen
Lisa stared expectantly at Lance. Now she was getting somewhere.
“The doctor feels, and Nolan agrees, that you are in danger. Already, there have been rumors of a witch doctor of such great power that death has no grip. One so powerful, that anyone who controls her will have the ability to rule the world.”
As the blood drained out, she felt light-headed and dizzy. “What?” she croaked incredulously.
“The hospital is on lockdown, and there are guards along the perimeter.”
Now add dry mouth to the faint and dizzy. Maybe she shouldn’t have insisted on being told. “How long will the lockdown last?”
“As long as it takes for Nolan to ascertain how much credence is being given to the rumors by our foes. This is bigger than a clan feud. Roxy had help from someone with some strange powers.”
Lisa thought back to the way she couldn’t move even though there were no physical restraints on her. “You have no idea.” She hadn’t told them of that part. They assumed she hadn’t left because of the guns and hostages. There had been no sign of guns or hostages when first she couldn’t move.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Lance asked, his voice suggesting there was underlying anger.
Her fingers fidgeted with the hospital sheets in response to her sudden nerves, and she stared at them, willing them to quit. Annoyed that her body was once again not doing as she commanded, she focused and forced her hands to clasp together across her stomach. She hoped it was a side effect that would go away with time. She’d never had that sort of problem before.
“Lisa,” he said softly, a warning as well as a plea.
“Something controlled me, kept interfering with my emotions. As if that weren’t enough, it controlled my body, wouldn’t let me leave.” Tears welled up, and she felt an overwhelming need to break down and bawl like a baby. But that wouldn’t help in her cause to get out of here. Then again, they were on lockdown. Round and round her thoughts went until she started sobbing.
The past few days, she’d held it in, planning to let loose when she was in the comfort—and solitude—of her own home. But the tide couldn’t be held back any longer.
Lance’s look on his face brought out a choked laughter in the midst of her tears. He appeared as lost as she felt. She opened her arms and leaned forward, a nonverbal request for a hug, comfort, love.
With no hesitation, he met her and moved so he lay next to her in the hospital bed. She continued to cry on his shoulder. She hadn’t felt this helpless since the night she’d turned werewolf, and she realized her lover wasn’t coming to help her. Then she’d had the distraction of becoming a wolf.
Now she had Lance. Her sobs quieted, and she lay content in his arms. He stroked her arm gently, slowly, and she became aware that she only had a hospital gown on. “So,” she began, afraid and excited at what she planned next, “I’m in here for protection and observation? Not sick or hurt?”
As she watched his face, she noticed the hesitancy there. “The observation is more for knowledge than health,” he finally said. “You’re physically fine. In fact,” his voice lowered, “you’re perfect.”
His hand moved from her arm to her face, and the caress broke open the ice that encased her heart. Though she’d done something incredible that could label her a freak, he still stood by her. Maybe it wasn’t as weird for the werewolves to have unusual powers, but it wasn’t nor
mal either. Yet, he stood by her. He was here, protecting her, when he could easily be elsewhere—like going after his own revenge.
Heat infused her body, and she wanted him. “So, physically, I’m perfect?” she reiterated as she moved her hand to his jean clad hip. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, and it gave her more confidence.
“Who’s all observing me, now,” she practically purred at him.
“Well, just, I’m, there’s,” Lance stuttered.
She giggled, and it made her blush in embarrassment. She was not a teenager with a crush. “Yes,” she encouraged.
“There’s an aide just in case, but um, he said he’d be leaving us alone as there are no other patients here at this time,” Lance said, his voice hoarse.
Her body heat seemed to be rising as it did when she changed to werewolf. All at once, she remembered his strange reaction the last time they’d been down here. This room was even more enclosed than the waiting room. She cooled back off immediately at the thought that he might be hiding his fear for her sake.
“How are you? I mean last time we were down here, you couldn’t get out of here fast enough.”
His face paled, looking almost gray despite his natural dark coloring. “It’s hard sometimes,” he admitted. “But I was so worried about you and Moriah that I didn’t’ even think about it at first. Then when I started to panic, Doctor Waverly put his hand on my shoulder and reminded me that I had a duty to my mate and the inner strength to face my demons. Believe me. That first day when you were out of it, I fought hard with them.”
“And you’ve won?”
A reluctant laugh left Lance. “No, not by a long shot. I found that as long as I’m holding your hand, or touching you, the demons are...quiet for lack of a better word. And this is slightly embarrassing to be talking about with you.”
“Why? Are we not mates? Who better to talk with?”
“No, it’s not that. I want to be strong and powerful to you, not weak and helpless.”
Lisa sat for a long time, thinking over her next words carefully. “I understand the need to be strong and powerful before your mate. I also understand not wanting to appear weak and helpless in front of anyone, no matter who they are. Two sides of the same coin,” she began.
Since her last night with Joseph, she’d never wanted to appear weak or helpless in any way whatsoever. She’d worked hard to make it so, and it had been part of her drive to become Elite Guard.
He started to say something, but she lay her fingers on his lips—and left them there. “I think, maybe the difference between liking someone and loving someone you’re mated with, is the ability to show weakness. That you share your demons with me, and face your fear for me, means a lot. And it helps still my fears, my weakness. Together, we are stronger.”
As she looked into his eyes to see his reaction, she felt the warmth start again. It chased the coldness away that had been with her all her life and even more so after Joseph. Being alone and different hadn’t been new to her. The rawness of betrayal had been, but now she had Lance.
He kissed her fingertips then nibbled on the tips. Her moan echoed in the room, and she wondered if he’d be able to have sex in a place full of things that brought so many harsh memories. Then she had a thought, that if she could make love to him where the items were handy, and not use them, not hurt him, then he’d believe. Believe she wouldn’t hurt him, believe he was capable of love, of healing, of sharing their life.
And for herself?
For herself, she was going to grasp her chance at love with both hands and feel the heat, the warmth as she’d never felt it before. “Lance,” she whispered then moaned again when he sucked her fingers into his mouth. “Make love to me. Please,” she begged.
His mouth froze on her fingers, and his gaze bored holes in her. In them, she saw fear, love, hope, all warring to be the top. Love won out to be joined by lust a moment before he took her hand away from his mouth, put it on his groin, and began gently kissing her.
***
Lance felt her lips soften under his, and joy began to wiggle its way into his heart. Even though they were already close in the confines of the bed, he put one arm behind her and pulled her closer. As he did so, his hand made contact with skin through the open back of her gown, and it had the same effect of putting a lit match to fire starter.
His cock went into overdrive, hardening and pushing against his jeans in protest. A groan slipped from his throat as her hands pushed against it and stroked through his pants. His mind became focused on her hands and how good they felt. When she undid the button and unzipped the zipper, he nearly spilled himself in excitement.
He stopped kissing her and took a deep breath. “You feel so good. Touching me like that.” The struggle to get the words out was worth it when he saw the sunshine pouring out of her eyes. Then he realized, they really did glow. A golden light emanated out and warmed him wherever it touched, like a caress.
When her hands delved under his jeans—he was commando—he moaned with pleasure. With hands that shook with desire, he undid the ties of her hospital gown then unsnapped the arms where they met. She lay back on the bed, and he drew the gown down, looking at the luscious skin so close to his own, yet with a warm golden tint to the brown. He slid a finger down the clavicle and farther to her cleavage, his mouth trailing after. Then he moved his hand to one breast, tweaking the nipple, while his mouth moved to the other, and he tongued the nipple on it.
Her sweet little gasps rang in the room and filled his head with a roaring sound like waves pounding the beach. His mate. The words were nectar for the flicker of hope he’d kept alive, and hope joined with joy and combined to make the most powerful aphrodisiac he could imagine. With renewed eagerness, he took her nipple between his lips and sucked.
Wanting to touch her more, he balanced his weight on his knees after guiding one between her legs and began pushing her hospital gown the rest of the way off. With only a small struggle, he was able to bare her to his touch. With his free hand, he trailed down her body, traced the flare of her hips, then moved his hand to cup her pussy.
Wet. Wet. A hum started within him, a low drumming. With two fingers, he penetrated slowly, stopping his work on her breast so he could watch her face. She flushed more, her eyes still that bright gold.
“Lance,” she groaned. “Yes.”
While he leaned over and kissed her on the mouth, he took his wetted fingers, brought them up, and found her clit. He began circling her clit, looking for the right combination of pressure and design.
All at once, she screamed against his mouth and bucked under him. His groan matched hers. It felt so good to have her there with him. With great self-control, he kept kissing her mouth, then down her cheek to her neck. He nipped, bit, and sucked as his fingers continued their onslaught on her clit.
All he wanted, all he craved, was her—touching her, holding her, loving her. He wanted to give her the same intense joy that she gave him and more. When she started to scream again, he quickly covered her lips with his capturing her cries of pleasure within his mouth. The intimacy of their act scared him for a moment.
What if he couldn’t finish well? What if he didn’t please her enough? What if she wanted something from him he couldn’t give? His hesitancy must have shown because her hands met his and held them, and it was then he realized he had literally frozen in the act.
She gently pushed on him until he knelt on the bed and sat up. All he could do was stare at her as horror and embarrassment swamped him. Gently, oh so gently, she pulled his head down and kissed him on the mouth, tenderness and love in her every touch.
“Lay down,” she whispered.
His heartbeat accelerated, and his eyes flew open. Her eyes were open, looking at him, her hands gentle as they caressed his body. That continued gentleness as he hesitated, gave him the courage to do as she asked and give her the trust needed.
As he turned, she lay to the side, lifted his shirt up, and began stroking his
stomach. Inch by inch, she uncovered him until she pulled off his shirt. Then she straddled him. As she moved, she allowed her gown to drop completely to the floor. Her sienna nipples puckered as he stared, and he smiled at her open reactions to him.
“Your jeans next, wolf-man,” she said.
This time his heart accelerated for a completely different reason. He sucked in his breath as she skimmed the jeans down past his erection. As her essence filled his lungs, he flashed back to the night he found her. His aswan. His mate. Thought lost to him but now, soon to be his lover.
“Do you trust me?” she asked of him after tossing the jeans to the floor.
Did he? Could he? Ever? She knelt, her legs spread over his, her arms on either side of him, her breasts swaying. His wolf side trusted her implicitly. His human side feared giving her power. But as he looked into her eyes, he thought of how selflessly she gave of herself to the wolf community, the women who needed her, to protecting those weaker than herself. He thought of how, even after Joseph had betrayed her, she’d had compassion.
Those were things he loved and could trust, and he had his answer. “Yes,” he said, his voice cracking. “Yes,” he repeated stronger.
Her head bobbed down and all at once, his erection was encased in the hot wetness, and his hips jerked up in response. Her tongue lapped him as she stroked up and down with her mouth, and his balls tightened. His hands clenched at his sides. He realized he was forcing himself not to touch her as—no he threw the thought out.
This was his mate. He could touch her. One hand went to her dark hair, and he passed his hand along the smooth softness of it. Her tongue lolled around the head of his dick as if he were a lollipop and she, intent on savoring the flavor. Moans escaped him even as he tried to hold back.
Lisa stopped and sat up. Her eyes glittered at him, the heat in them palpable. She bent over and crawled silkily over him, somehow feeling lighter than air until she settled with her pussy over his cock. Her juices covered him as she rocked against him in a flurry of need.
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