by Aline Hunter
“Wait until I issue challenge before you go to her. The pack will be distracted, and you won’t have to fight anyone off.”
Micah released him and strode toward the circle before Bridon could respond. He tried to contain his fury, knowing it wouldn’t do Willow any favors. Fates, she looked so helpless, so small and fragile.
“Dane Miloradovic, King of Norvallen,” Micah yelled for all to hear as he walked into the circle. Wolves and nude men and women appeared. “I, Micah Miloradovic, challenge you as alpha of the Norvallen pack, as is my blood right.”
Bridon rushed to Willow, just as a gust of air caused the fire nearby to dwindle and then grow. He heard Trace land behind him as the ground shifted to bear his weight. He made it to his Fated and wanted to kill the man responsible for her injuries. From a distance, he couldn’t see the damage to her arms and legs. Up close, he knew they had been broken. He was grateful she hadn’t been awake to hear his mental calls. She must have been in anguish.
He found the lock at the back of the collar and pried it open with his fingers. She started to stir, and he cursed. He didn’t want her to wake when he was unable to do anything to alleviate her pain. As he lifted her into his arms, she moaned, and her eyes flickered open.
“Bridon?”
“I’m here, love.”
“I’m sorry.” She sounded close to tears. “I shouldn’t have left. I should have told you what I wanted to do.”
“We’ll discuss this later.” He brought her closer to his chest and started to teleport her home.
“Don’t.” She cried out as she realized his intent and tried to lift her arm. “Micah?”
He considered lying, but knew it would only result in more anger from his Fated. “He’s here, challenging your father for the throne.”
“We can’t leave him alone.”
“He’s not.” Bridon turned slowly so Willow could see Trace at his back.
“Stay,” she whispered into his chest. “Please. If the pack turns on him, he’ll need us.”
“Fucking hell,” Trace grumbled in Bridon’s mind. “If she wants to stay after what they’ve done to her, she deserves to. Get out of the way. I’ll clear a path.”
Bridon moved aside as Trace’s enormous bulk stomped past. The men, women, and wolves in the circle backed up when they saw him, growling and baring their teeth. Trace swiped his spiked tail in their direction, which sent them scattering. When there was plenty of room, Bridon started walking. He could hear the raised voices and knew they weren’t far off.
“You’ve no right to the throne. You deserted the pack for a vampire bitch and a half-breed whelp.”
“I’m not surprised to hear you say that, since you couldn’t care less about your own children. My challenge stands. Unless the pack turns from me, you have to acknowledge and accept it.”
The moon still held some of the pack members in its grip. They fucked on the ground, completely oblivious to what was taking place. Those cognizant enough to watch the altercation shifted their feet as if unsure what to do.
Micah rotated in a circle, speaking to the growing ring of Lycae around him. “I never betrayed you. I did not leave the pack willingly. I was forced to do so to protect my Fated and our child. Your alpha wants you to believe that vampires are the threat. The truth is he is the one responsible for the threat to the future heir to the throne.” He stopped and pointed at Willow. “She was never responsible for the downfall of the pack. Her mating was a danger because it represented new leadership to the throne. He”—Micah turned and pointed at his father—“never wanted that to happen. He would have killed off his son, daughter, and grandchild to retain power that he gained through fear and brutality.”
The Lycae began to whisper, and Dane Miloradovic snarled, “Everything I do is for the good of the pack. We remain strong because of my decisions. My son would fool you with lies.”
“He’s not lying.” A dark form shouldered through the bodies in his path, followed by a large group, causing more whispers and confusion. “Micah is telling you the truth. He fled Norvallen when he learned that his child would be murdered the moment it was born.”
“Dom,” Micah said with a smile and stepped toward the leader who emerged from the Lycae in his path. They embraced, clapping each other on the back.
“The pack won’t turn their back on you.” Dom pulled away as those who followed him strode to the circle and faced the crowd. “If they try to, we’ll take them down one by one.”
“This is mutiny!” Dane roared. “I won’t tolerate it in my pack.”
Micah grasped his shirt and pulled it over his head, flexing his muscles. “Then it’s a good thing it’s not going to be your pack for much longer.”
“You want to challenge me, pup? Make sure it’s the right decision.” Dane stood, revealing his nude, muscular body, and pointed at the sky—toward the glowing sphere tinged with red. “A killing moon is upon us. This will only end in death.”
“Your death,” Micah said quietly, his voice laced with intent. “Not mine.”
“So be it. When I’m finished with you, I’ll be paying your Fated and child a visit.”
The Lycae forming the circle spread out as Dane walked down the stairs. Micah waited, watching as his father and foe came to him. They sized each other up as they sidestepped. More of the pack appeared, no longer in the grips of the moon, watching as a monumental moment in their history transpired.
Tonight, things could change for the better. Or they could crumble for the worse.
“If Micah fails, everything will fall apart,” Bridon thought to Trace.
“The old man will lose,” Trace said quietly in Bridon’s mind.
“How can you be certain?”
“He is fighting for his pride. Micah is fighting for the future of his family.”
Dane struck out, and Micah pivoted, bringing his fist around. Micah’s punch connected with Dane’s jaw, sending him several steps back. Dane shook head, spit blood on the ground, and laughed.
“You still hit like a pussy.”
They circled each other again. When Dane tried to slash at his opponent with his claws, Micah spun around and launched himself at the much larger man. They fell on the ground with Micah on top. The old man rotated his hips, gained balance, and flipped them over. The moment Dane had an opening, be pummeled his son with fists.
Willow whimpered, and Bridon lowered his head, whispering soft nothings in her ear to soothe her. He wished there was more he could do, but this wasn’t his fight. If Micah wanted the respect of the pack, he had to earn it.
Micah grasped his father by the throat and wrapped his fingers under the elder Lycae’s jaw. Dane continued hitting him, landing blows to Micah’s face, and reached for Micah’s fingers. Micah bucked his pelvis, trying to dislodge his father, and kept a firm hold on Dane’s throat. They rocked—Micah the horse and Dane the rider—until Dane staggered to the side and Micah reversed their positions.
The younger Lycae straddled his father and peered down into his face. “This ends now.”
Then he started to shift.
Bridon watched, awestruck, as Micah’s body reformed with the exception of his arm. Fur appeared on his skin as his bones shifted and reshaped. The pants he’d kept intact ripped apart as his hindquarters became larger, shredding the expensive clothing. His facial features changed as his nose and mouth became a snout, complete with a lethal set of teeth. It was fast, taking seconds. The moment his body was changed, he released Dane and moved back, snarling. His arm changed into a leg, complete with a large paw and claws.
“You should have fought me as a man.” Dane rolled onto his hands and knees. “At least you stood a chance.”
Dane’s transformation was even faster, and to Bridon’s dismay, his wolf form was much, much larger. Micah waited until his father’s change was complete before he charged. They came together in a flurry of fur and fangs. Blood flew through the air as their claws broke skin and raked into muscle. There were n
o howls of pain, only paired growls and snarls.
Micah went for his father’s throat and was driven off course as the larger wolf barreled into his chest. When Micah tried to find his footing, Dane bit into the scruff of his neck and slashed at his son’s sides with his claws. Flaps of loose skin revealed portions of torn muscle and bone. Micah buried his back feet in the earth and lurched forward. It was enough to break his father’s hold on his neck and separate them.
They stood off again—Dane practically untouched and Micah torn open in several places. No one had to say this would be the last volley. If Micah didn’t kill his father on this pass, he would lose.
Dane charged his son, and Micah waited, sides heaving. When his father was nearly on him, he dropped to his chest, lifted his head, and latched on to the underside of Dane’s throat. Everyone heard the loud crack as bone snapped in two. Dane thrashed, yelping as his blood poured over his son’s snout. Micah didn’t let go, maintaining pressure until his father fell to his side. The gurgling sounds coming from the Lycae who was facing his death were made more horrific when Micah buried his claws in his father’s chest.
“Turn away, Bridon.” Trace’s voice was a whisper in his head. “Your Chosen doesn’t need to see the rest.”
Willow didn’t protest when he turned from the carnage, and Bridon was grateful for Trace’s foresight. Because just as he took his first step, he heard the ripping sound that indicated Micah was doing one of the only things you could to kill an immortal creature.
He was removing his father’s head.
Chapter Nineteen
Bridon looked up as someone approached. Willow had wanted to stay until she knew Micah was safe, despite his argument that she was in pain and needed to see a healer. So when he finally saw Micah walking toward them, it felt as if a lifetime had passed.
“Micah,” Willow said softly. “Are you all right?”
He smiled. “Nothing a shift didn’t take care of.”
“Now that you see he’s fine, can I take you home and summon a healer?” Bridon shifted Willow in his arms as carefully as he could, afraid to cause her more pain.
“Willow…” Micah arched a brow at her and clucked his tongue.
She winced as she moved. “I couldn’t shift until the fight was over and I talked to you.”
“So you didn’t tell your mate that you could have healed yourself if you wanted?”
Bridon’s eyes went wide before he lowered his gaze and glowered at his Chosen. “I assumed you could only heal wounds if you were harmed in wolf form.”
“You know what they say about assumptions. They make an ass out of—” Willow laughed, grimaced, and bit her lip.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“She’s stubborn,” Micah answered for her, shaking his head. “The pain allowed her to keep the mating heat at bay. If she changed, she wouldn’t have been able to watch the fight.”
Bridon gritted his teeth and resisted the urge to throttle his Fated. She’d known it had killed him to watch her in so much misery when she could have ended it all. Taking a deep breath, he lowered her to the ground.
“Don’t make me tell you what I expect. You’re in enough trouble.”
She shook her head, bowed her back, and started to change. It wasn’t as fast or painless as her brother’s shift. Instead, she panted and whined as her bones mended and reformed. Angry as he was, he hated seeing her like this. He started to crouch next to her when Micah stopped him.
“Don’t. She’s a big girl who brought this on herself. Pacifying her would only rub salt in her wounds.”
Bridon considered ignoring Micah’s advice, when Willow finished shifting into wolf form and rested on the ground, breathing heavily. Then she did something he didn’t anticipate. She rose, snorted, and bit his leg—ripping his pants and breaking skin—and took off in a dead run. He watched her rush past the circle and bolt through the open gates.
“Well?” Micah asked. “What are you waiting for?”
Glancing down at his leg, he muttered, “Care to explain?”
“She just initiated your mating. She wants you to chase her down and prove you’re worthy.”
“In that case…” Bridon closed his eyes and transported out of the fortress.
He glanced around the outskirts of the forest. It was cheating, but he didn’t care. He used his blood bond to locate her. She wasn’t far, waiting for him just inside the woods. Grinning, he closed the distance between, traveling quickly while taking advantage of his ability to move with minimal sound.
When he saw Willow, he stopped to appreciate the view. She’d traveled to a large pond, changed to her human form, and was standing chest-deep in the water, scrubbing the blood from her skin. He removed his clothes and placed them on a fallen branch before he teleported to the space just behind her. The water was warm against his skin, the surface a brilliant blue. She gasped when he wrapped his arms around her and cupped her breasts in his hands, massaging her nipples with his fingers.
Brushing his lips against her neck, he growled, “I don’t know if I should be angry with you or thankful you’re alive.”
“I’m sorry.” She exhaled, going soft against him. “I should have been honest with you. I was afraid that—”
He lifted one of his hands and caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning her head until their eyes met. “Not another word from you. Tonight, you’re going to give everything to me, Willow Miloradovic.”
“Yes,” she whispered back. “Everything.”
Leaning forward, he kissed her and lowered the hand at her jaw to the apex of her thighs. She moaned into his mouth, reached behind her, and wrapped her fingers around his neck. Their tongues met, danced, and parted. Every sound that came from her made his cock harder, the flesh so strained that he could barely squeeze his length between the globes of her ass.
Pulling away, he stared into his Chosen’s face. “I’m going to do more than make love to you tonight. I’m going to fuck you until there is no question of who you belong to. You will accept me as your Fated, your lover, and the man you’re going to spend the rest of eternity with.”
He wrapped an arm around her waist and took her to the pier at the side of the pond. When they reached it, he forced her onto her stomach, until he could see the curve of her buttocks and the folds of her pussy. Placing an arm in the center of her lower back, he aligned himself and speared his cock into her. She moaned, pushing back as best she could.
“Tell me how that feels, love. Tell me what it feels like when I’m so deep inside you that you can’t tell where I end and you begin.”
“Perfect,” she sighed, arching her back. “Like we are meant for each other.”
“We are meant for each other.” He continued thrusting, keeping a steady pace. “You know that now, don’t you?”
“I’ve known it since the moment we met. I was too afraid to admit it.”
“Is that a fact?” He withdrew slowly from her pussy and watched as his cock appeared, glistening from her cream under the moonlight. “What did you think the first time you saw me?”
“That I had never seen a man who was more gorgeous.”
His heart accelerated, and his breath caught. He’d waited so long for her to reciprocate his feelings, to hear her bestow any kind of endearment.
His voice was husky when he replied, “Good answer.”
He reached between her thighs, got his fingers slick, found her clit, and rubbed gently.
She thrashed against the wood surface of the pier, rearing back. “Don’t torment me.”
“You’ve tormented me for days. I think it’s only fair.”
“Please, Bridon.” She tried to maneuver her hips and apply more pressure to the fingers that kept rubbing in a teasing motion. “Make love to me.”
“I’ll always give you what you want, love.” He pressed his fingers against the bead at the top of her slit. “All you have to do is ask.”
He plunged all the way back in
side her, until he bumped the softness of her womb. She shrieked as she came, milking him as her vaginal walls clamped down on his cock. He didn’t still the motion of his fingers as he pumped into her, no longer careful or tender. Making love was something he enjoyed, but right now he wanted to slam into her, fuck her hard, and leave her so shaken, she wouldn’t be able to breathe. Despite that, he would give her what she wanted. His balls began to tingle, and he felt an electric flash at the base of his spine. He held back, slowing down, not willing to lose himself inside her yet.
There was something more he wanted.
She panicked when he pulled out, becoming almost maddened as he flipped her over. Her irises were the beautiful amber he had fallen in love with, sparkling like champagne-colored diamonds in the night. He feathered kisses along her jaw and collarbones, and placed his mouth on the pebbled nipple she brought to his lips. Sucking forcefully, he brought his hand up to her other breast and pinched the nipple before he rolled it between his fingers.
Willow wedged her hand between their bodies and grasped his cock at the base. She stroked him, using her thumb to tease the sensitive crease of the crown. He thrust into her hand, groaned in approval, and raked his fangs over her nipples. The instant she started to squirm, he sank his teeth into the area just above her heart. She squeezed his cock and clasped the back of his head in her free hand as she climaxed for a second time. He didn’t rush, enjoying the taste of her blood and the way it heated his mouth.
“No more,” Willow pleaded, tugging at his hair. “I need you inside me.”
After he swiped his tongue along the small punctures, he looked into her dazed eyes. “I told you I’ll give you anything you ask for.”
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he guided himself to her pussy, slid the head up and down the folds, and then slowly inched inside. Willow lifted her legs and placed them on the edge of the pier, allowing him to slide deeper. He didn’t stop until he pressed against her cervix, feeling the slight give of the tender spot against the head of his cock.
