The Fifth Moon's Wife (The Fifth Moon Tales Book 2)

by Monica La Porta

  “Good boy,” Dragon said, walking toward the ledge. His long stride was no match for Rado’s and Ronda’s, and they soon lagged behind, even though Dragon was still holding the merchant’s arm.

  The terrain was uneven, and Ronda stumbled over a rock, falling and pulling her lover down with her.

  Annoyed, Dragon looked over his shoulder and yanked Rado up. “Move.”

  The merchant’s legs were unsteady, and Ronda weighed him down as she tried to stand and failed. Dragon turned on his heels to help them.

  Hearing a hissing sound, Mirella turned to see Rado’s head pitch forward. His body crumpled beneath him a heartbeat later.

  “Nooo—” Ronda’s scream was cut short by a second bullet that pierced her forehead, right between her eyebrows. She fell with her eyes wide open, staring unseeingly at Mirella.

  Swearing, Gabriel pushed Mirella behind him, while Dragon ran back to them to stand by the vampire.

  “Stop the sniper,” Martali shouted to his men.

  Gunfire exploded, filling the chamber with so much noise Mirella’s ears tingled. Silence reigned a moment later, and one of the guards, yelled, “He’s down.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  His head throbbed with a sharp pain, and Valentine knew he had stopped breathing because his chest burned with ache. Every muscle in his body convulsed at once.

  He wanted to scream, but not a sound escaped his mouth. Darkness engulfed him. He was hot and yet shivered as if cold. Sweat ran down his head and into the collar of his shirt, plastering the heavy fabric to his wet skin.

  How long had he been suspended in this twilight of consciousness?

  Valentine felt Mirella’s presence. Her scent had surrounded him for as long as he could remember. But was it a minute, an hour, a day? He couldn’t say. Beyond the certainty that his bride had never left his side and his constant pain, Valentine didn’t know anything else.

  Memories of other healings came back to him. It was his wolf’s way to remind Valentine he had gone through that kind of anguish before and become stronger for it. But Valentine only wanted the pain to stop so he could hug his bride. He could feel her fear and distress over him, and it wasn’t good for her and their child.

  Yet, the pain didn’t cease. If anything, it worsened when his body rearranged itself, moving organs aside, growing sinews. Even his scalp ached, and he could feel his hair growing longer, follicle by follicle. His nails, too, elongated.

  And the itch. What would he do for a good scratch, but none of his limbs answered his commands.

  The agony prolonged. Time stretched. Or stopped altogether. Valentine suffered through thirst and hunger, extreme coldness and heat, sometimes at the same time. Deaf, blind, and mute, he experienced outside stimuli through his nose.

  Only Mirella’s scent reminded him he wasn’t alone. And so he resigned to wait until he had healed, hoping his next breath would bring him clear vision and the use of his body again. For he wanted nothing more than to make love to his bride.

  There were moments when Valentine thought he would not survive this healing after all. His cranial bones broke more than once, while his ribcage opened and his waist slimmed. The juncture of his pelvis shifted, fracturing as well.

  All his body was hard at work, pushing out the metal from the bullets that had lodged deep inside him. The foreign material was poisoning him faster than he could heal, but he would not cease fighting it.

  Valentine couldn’t lose this battle. His sweet bride needed him, and he was wasting precious time.

  With dwindling strength, he summoned his wolf forth.

  Heal, the beast commanded with a low growl.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Feeling helpless, Mirella watched as Valentine convulsed on the bed one more time.

  Five long days had passed since Valentine had rescued her from her kidnappers. One hundred and twenty interminable hours she spent at his bedside, hoping she could do something to alleviate his agonizing suffering.

  “Why is he still thrashing so much?” she asked Balenus.

  When she and Valentine were brought back to the manor, the medicus moved to the adjacent room and never left his master’s side for more than a few minutes at a time.

  “You gave him enough opiate to sedate a draglet.” Mirella worried the linen sheet she was holding in her fist.

  “Master Lobo is a strong werewolf and his reaction is normal given the circumstances.” Balenus sat on the chair opposite the bed. His hair was disheveled and dark circles under his eyes revealed he had not slept much in the last few days.

  A tormented growl from Valentine made Mirella cry in anguish. She caressed his forehead, then smoothed the crease between his eyes. “Give him something stronger.” It wasn’t the first time she voiced the request, but she didn’t know what else to do.

  “He’s too close to shifting now,” Balenus answered.

  The medicus had explained how a werewolf healed, but Mirella wasn’t fully prepared when Valentine roared and his face elongated.

  “Is it happening now?” She watched as Valentine’s handsome traits momentarily morphed into a beastly form.

  “Yes, he’s finally given his wolf permission to take control. Now the healing starts in earnest.” Balenus gave her a studious look. “You might want to take a stroll in the gardens.”

  “I won’t leave him.” She blinked and Valentine was back to normal.

  “It won’t be pretty.” Balenus pointed his chin at Valentine’s hand.

  Mirella hadn’t noticed that his fingernails were so long, but before she could say anything, claws cut Valentine’s skin where only a moment ago there were his nails. Before her eyes, he started changing.

  “Blessed Bride—” Balenus called her.

  “I won’t leave,” she repeated.

  “Stand aside.” Balenus stood and offered his hand for her to take. “He’ll move uncontrollably.”

  Mirella accepted the proffered help and let Balenus pull her up. “Will he be in more pain than he is now?” she asked.

  “Yes, it will be excruciating.” Balenus patted her hand. “But he will survive a head and a chest wound, whereas any other man would be dead.”

  Valentine’s body arched. His spine was curved at such an angle, Mirella feared it would break. He screamed in agony, his face deforming into a muzzle, his skin covering in black and russet fur. The silk shirt she had dressed him with split as his torso expanded, exposing his ribcage, bone by bone. For a moment, his beating heart was exposed.

  She screamed then, but no sound escaped her mouth. Her legs buckled under her, and she slid to the floor. How could he survive the shifting?

  “Would you leave now?” Balenus squeezed her hand he was still holding.

  She shook her head, and he gently pulled her up again and directed her to the bay window’s bench.

  “How long will this last?” She kept her eyes on her husband.

  “As long as it takes. His body is expelling the metal poisoning him.” The medicus sat on the soft cushion and patted the bench. “He’s fighting hard to get back to you, and he needs you at your best.” His eyes lowered to her belly then, and she automatically caressed her midsection.

  The first day, Balenus had told her the results of her analysis, and after a thorough visit, he reassured her that she and the baby were perfectly fine.

  She remembered a question she wanted to ask, but Valentine’s cries were too loud and excruciating to listen to and obliterated any other thought. She even forgot about her nausea. Only Valentine mattered.

  His shifting continued for hours. Far longer than she would have expected Valentine could endure. He never wholly changed into a wolf, but his body seized in between forms, neither human nor beast.

  She watched from her corner as Valentine was torn apart and knitted back together. Whenever he changed to his human form, his beautiful face was twisted by paroxysms that altered him until she could not recognize him any longer.

  Finally, Valentine
emitted a last rattle and collapsed to the mattress.

  Clutching her stomach, Mirella dared look away from her husband and turned to Balenus. “Is it done?”

  Balenus nodded. “Now he needs to rest.” He gave her a smile. “And as I already suggested countless times, you should rest too, Blessed Bride.”

  “I will, by my husband.” On shaky legs, Mirella reached the bed and sat on the edge.

  Valentine was covered in sweat and his clothes lay in tatters, but his face was finally relaxed and his eyes weren’t twitching under their lids any longer. When she tentatively brushed his forehead with her fingers, he sighed and turned on his side, toward her.

  Balenus checked Valentine’s vitals, then nodded. “He’s recovering just fine. I’ll be back in a few hours.” He grabbed his long jacket from the back of the chair where he had draped it and left for the adjacent room.

  When Mirella was finally alone with Valentine, she lay facing him, her forehead lowered to his. “You came back to me.”

  “I would never leave you alone,” he answered. His voice was hoarse from all the screaming and his words were but a whisper.

  She hugged him then, tears streaming down her cheeks and bathing his face as she kissed his lips.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Valentine wasn’t in pain any longer. He was sore and his mouth felt like he had been drinking burnt sand, but when he tried to move his hand, his body finally obeyed his command.

  Mirella was sleeping next to him. He didn’t need to be touching her to know she was there. Her soft breathing tickled his ear, and her sweet scent enveloped him like a soft blanket.

  The most beautiful sight welcomed him back to the land of the living when he opened his eyes.

  “Kitten—” He shifted on the mattress until their bodies touched, then he wound his arms around her slender waist and pressed her to him.

  She stirred, snuggling even closer, her mouth grazing the hollow in his throat. “Valentine,” she murmured sleepily, her hand playing with the hair on his chest.

  “How long was I asleep?” he asked.

  “You were asleep for the last two days, but it took you much longer to heal.” Her fingers traced lazy circles over his nipples.

  Her touches were enough to waken Valentine’s ardor, but first he would talk to her. It was time to face his demons and start a new chapter in their lives.

  As if sensing his inner turmoil, Mirella tilted her chin up. Her green eyes studied him for a moment, before she said, “I feared the worst—”

  “I would’ve come back from the dead for you.” He leaned to kiss her softly.

  “Your wolf,” she whispered to his lips. “I was so scared for you. It broke your body apart. You were in so much pain.”

  “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He nuzzled the tip of her nose with his. “You shouldn’t have been here.”

  “I would’ve never left you alone.” Her chest rose and her eyes regarded him with shock. “Never.”

  “My sweet kitten, you are brave beyond words.” He caressed her cheek and sighed.

  “I’m not brave.” She shook her head. “I was terrified for you when your bones started breaking and—” Her voice halted and a solitary tear escaped her long lashes.

  He wiped the moisture away with the pad of his finger, then kissed her forehead. “Werewolf healing can be scary. Only when we are about to die, the wolf comes out to save us. It wasn’t thus before, but the long voyage from Earth changed our physiology forever.” His lips landed gently on hers. “But it’s all worth it, because I am here with you, now.”

  She kissed him back, and a soft moan escaped her mouth. His hands moved of their own accord, one to the small of her back, the other stroking her curves. He meant to keep his touches under control, but her warmth and her scent beckoned him.

  Like a starving man, he sought her mouth, his touches growing more frantic. Soon, her corset was set apart, her shirt lay open, and her skirt was raised over her thighs. Mirella’s hands roamed over his body. His mouth left her lips to wander lower. He pulled down the brassiere, took the soft mounds of her breasts in his hands, and alternatively suckled her nipples into peaks. Her moans grew louder and spurred his senses already intoxicated by her arousal. With his lips, he followed the contour of her ribcage, then he reached her flat stomach.

  His wolf awoke, but it didn’t growl or roar or demand Valentine possess Mirella. The beast wasn’t angry any longer. It wasn’t pacing in Valentine’s mind. It was finally at peace, whereas Valentine felt like snarling at the moon.

  “What is it?” Mirella asked, frowning.

  Valentine rose to look at her, then bumped her forehead with his. Steadying his breathing, he rehearsed the words in his mind one more time, then he said, “You’ve made me the happiest man on Lupine.” It wasn’t a lie. “I can’t imagine a life without you.” He brushed her lips, his heart heavy for the truth he had just spoken.

  “I must tell you something—” she started, her bottom lip trembling.

  He leaned away from her and saw how pale she suddenly looked. When she didn’t finish her thought, he smiled to encourage her. “You can tell me anything.”

  She nodded as if to give herself strength. Finally, she said, “As you know, I am with child and I don’t want you to send me to Celestia.”

  “I am not.” All the words he had carefully put together failed him.

  “You will let me stay?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

  “I don’t want you to go.” He gulped down the lump in his throat. “I never wanted you to go.” With his eyes closed, he inhaled her scent, then looked back at her. “It was for your safety.”

  She moved away from him. A dark shadow passed over her face. “Are you happy I’m carrying your son?”

  “Of course I’m happy,” he heard his voice say, and felt dead inside.

  She shook her head, her eyes studying him. “You don’t look happy.”

  “I told Balenus I wanted to be the one to give you the news.” He moved closer to her, closing the gap she had created. “I was just disappointed I didn’t tell you first.”

  “Are you sure?” One hand went to her waist, while the other traced the contour of his mouth.

  “I love you. There’s nothing that would make me happier than knowing you’ll give me a son.” He leaned to kiss her. Mere words and yet it took all his strength to utter them. He had planned his speech but was now at a loss for words. His hesitation pained her though, and he remembered what he was supposed to say next. “You’ve made me the happiest man on Lupine,” he repeated, his heart breaking because it was now the cruelest lie he had ever told. “Would you let me make love to you?” he whispered the question.

  Joy spread on her face then, illuminating her eyes. “I love you, Valentine.”

  The ardor he had felt minutes ago mutated from burning passion to sweet ecstasy.

  “Let me worship you.” He pushed her down to her back, then blanketed her, but made sure to keep his weight off her, propping his torso on his elbows. “I love you,” he said, kissing her eyelids, then her nose.

  After brushing her mouth, he whispered again, “I love you.” His hands caressed her breasts with gentle strokes, lingering on her nipples he kissed soon after. “I love you.” He moved to her stomach and leaned his face against her warm skin. “I love you, little one,” he said to his son, and it wasn’t a lie.

  He loved his pup already because it was Mirella’s, and he would always love him.

  Mirella passed her hands over his head and back. “I can’t wait to have our baby in my arms.”

  He couldn’t find anything to say back that wouldn’t betray his conflicted mood. Letting his body speak for him, he left her belly to trail soft bites down to her thighs.

  Too many clothes were still in the way, but instead of ripping fabric and tearing apart her lacy underthings, Valentine took his time to remove one item at a time. He made sure she was comfortably cushioned by pillows, then slowly took off every garme
nt she wore but her stockings and garters.

  “You are breathtaking.” His eyes roamed unabashedly over her creamy skin and soft curves. “You were made for loving.” His fingers trailed from her arched throat to the small globes of her breasts. “You were made for me.” He cupped one breast and it fit perfectly in his hand. “I adore you.” Gently parting her legs, he lowered his head to her flower.

  Her moans guided his mouth as he lavished her, stroking, licking, gently grazing her petals with his teeth. Her pleasure was his, and he drove both of them crazy with want by prolonging her ecstasy until she was panting and he was throbbing with pain.

  “Please—” Mirella pressed her shaking hand against his head. “I need you inside me.”

  After denying himself for so long, Valentine could barely think straight. He rose over her, then united their bodies with a long thrust, savoring the experience with all his senses.

  “I’ve missed you,” she gasped when he sheathed himself fully in her warmth.

  He remained still for a moment, overwhelmed by emotions that brought tears to his eyes. Unable to talk, he lowered his mouth to the juncture between her neck and shoulder, hiding his face as he suckled her skin.

  “I’ve missed you too.” His loins plunged against hers in rhythmic movements, entering her deeper, eliciting sighs and little cries that excited him even more.

  Mirella moved with him, taking him deeper still by tilting her hips and hugging her legs around his waist.

  Valentine set his pace to take her slowly and gently, but her passion was the most powerful aphrodisiac for him, and she soon was leading him to the highest heights of pleasure in a crescendo of thrusts and moans. His fingers played with her nipples, while his teeth scraped her shoulder, nipping, and soon biting.

  “Valentine,” she whispered, her voice hoarse, meeting him without reserves.

  Their lovemaking was raw, and Valentine had never felt so exposed and vulnerable before. He wanted to capture the ephemeral beauty of the moment.

  Hoisting himself on his elbow, he slowed enough to be able to talk. “Look at me,” he commanded, filling his eyes with Mirella’s sight.