North Wolf

by M. A. Everaux

  He rolled off, taking her with him as he settled onto his back. Content, Gwen cuddled into his side, her body completely boneless with satisfaction.

  “I want to marry you.”

  She lifted her head from his shoulder and blinked the sleep away. “What?”

  He turned toward her, his eyes pale. “I want to marry you.”

  A wave of cold swept her body, causing her to shiver suddenly. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.” She pushed away from him and sat up against the pillows.

  “Why?” he questioned, his voice tight with tension. “Because I’m not a Christian?”

  She pushed her hair behind her back and shook her head absently. “No. Actually, I didn’t even think about that. I’m more worried about the normal stuff. We haven’t been together long enough, Eben. And no matter what you said before, you are still angry with me.”

  “I love you. You know that. What else is there?”

  Her heart palpitated slightly as his words sank into her soul. “Well…” She bit her lip in thought and tried to get back on track. “I guess the everyday stuff that most couples face. Generally, people date for years before getting married, and there’s a reason for that. They figure out everything about each other before getting married so they’re sure. I’m not going anywhere. There’s no reason to rush this.”

  He sat up on his knees, facing her. “I want you to marry me, Gwen, and not in a few years. I need you to belong to me in every way possible. If you were Were, I wouldn’t ask and I wouldn’t push for this. We’d already be completely married in the ways of my people, but you’re human, and I want that piece of paper that says you’re mine.”

  “Eben, it’s not necessary.” She inched toward him cautiously, knowing she was causing him further pain by refusing. “I won’t leave you again. I promise.” She waited, but he said nothing. “Eben?”

  “I’ll bargain with you,” he said finally, his tone biting. “If I win the challenge against Theron, you marry me. If I lose, you don’t.”

  She blinked in the dark for a minute, hoping she’d heard him wrong. She hadn’t. “Uh, if you lose, you’re dead. This isn’t such a good bargain.”

  He slid closer, his face just an inch away. “Are you saying you don’t want me dead, my beauty?”

  She felt like hitting him, but she wasn’t that brave yet. “Don’t be silly,” she said breathlessly, as his lips brushed against her, feathering kisses along the line of her jaw. “You know I don’t want you dead. I’ve never even said anything close to that.”

  “Excellent,” he murmured. “Then we have a bargain. When I win, you will agree to marry me.”

  “I’m a modern woman. I don’t need to be married.” She’d always thought about it, wondered, actually, but this was beyond anything she’d ever come up with. God. Marriage. And by the tone of his voice and the determination in his eyes, he wouldn’t stop until she said yes. And for some reason, that caused her both fear, and a strong sense of elation.

  “I want marriage,” he replied darkly. “And because of that, I’ll have your promise tomorrow, after the challenge.”

  “Tomorrow?” she practically shrieked, marriage completely forgotten as the fear of losing him rose up strong. “Eben, so soon?”

  He brought his mouth to hers, and kissed her shock away. “Tomorrow,” he repeated softly, as he spread her body beneath his. “Now attend my needs, Gwen my love.”

  He gave her no option other than to please him, and with the approaching dawn, she became desperate for him. He could die. Her heart fluttered with the knowledge, and she clung to him as he entered her, knowing it could be her last time with him.

  Early in the morning, she opened her eyes to find him looming over her, his face taut and his eyes wild.

  She touched his face reverently, lovingly. “You’re leaving.”

  He nodded and leaned down, pressing his lips between her breasts. The feel of his cock jutting was impossible to resist. Knowing where he was about to go, Gwen sat up and pushed him to his back. He rolled over and pulled her on top of him.

  “I know you,” she murmured sleepily against his neck, rubbing herself against his erection and humming softly with pleasure. He felt so good against her. She’d miss that if he didn’t survive. “Sometimes it scares me how well I know you. Better than anyone else, I think.”

  “We’re mated,” he crooned, grasping her hips and increasing the pressure as she slid over his cock. “This is how it is for us. This is how it will always be.”

  Gwen spread her legs even wider and moaned, feeling the tip of his cock teasing her entrance. She shifted just so, and when he next rubbed her up his length, she canted her hips, and sighed as he slipped in fully. And then because she had to, she kissed him, licking his mouth as delicately as she could manage. When he growled and sucked at her tongue, she laughed and sat up, loving the feeling of so much heat and strength inside her.

  “I’ll miss you,” she breathed, lifting and lowering her body in a steady rhythm. So good. So good!

  “Harder, love. Jesus!” He held her up longer, and then thrust his hips up as she was coming down, making them both gasp, and causing the tightening deep in Gwen’s belly to suddenly tighten a lot more.

  “Do it again,” she breathed, lifting up. He thrust, and she went down. The tightness grew dangerously tighter.

  She leaned down, flicking her tongue into his mouth as she clung to him and rocked, loving the way he felt deep inside her. More and more and more, until finally she couldn’t stand any more. His cock, so deep, hit just the right place, and suddenly she stiffened and cried out, her muscles pulsating against him, pulling at him. Milking his cock.

  Eben swore and roughly clasped her, jerking her hips up and down until his eyes changed and his mouth twisted with tension. He went over with a sharp cry, with his head thrust back and his body stiffened. Deep inside, Gwen felt the resulting pulsing of his release.

  She sank down on his chest, breathing hard. A light coating of sweat gleamed dully on his skin. So beautiful, he was.

  He reached up, his hand moving to the bedside table. Gwen groaned and fell to the side, still holding onto him. “Don’t go yet,” she said, snuggling up against him. “Just a little longer.”

  “Shh,” he murmured, taking her hand in his. “I have some time.”

  “Okay,” she whispered, and fell asleep.

  She woke later that morning, and he was gone. She was forced to stay in the bathroom longer than necessary, partly because of the nausea, partly because of the terror she felt over losing him, but also because of the ring she’d discovered on her finger. It was no big diamond or anything flashy, but old, and finely made in white-gold, with a small green stone at the center of a woven-vine band. It was simple and elegant—perfect. And it fit.

  She stared at it for another minute, marveling at him. And she’d thought he was getting ready to leave when he’d reached over to the nightstand. Tricky man.

  Feeling brave, she left it on while she dressed. He’d given it to her, after all, and it was just a ring, even if it was on the designated ring finger. It didn’t carry a sign of flashing neon to attract everyone’s attention. Besides, she didn’t want to hurt him by refusing his gift, so it was only right that she wore it.

  After her bout with nausea in the bathroom, she shuffled downstairs and encountered Connor in the kitchen. He looked as miserable as she felt, but he perked up when he saw her.

  He slid a cup of tea over as she sat down, then cocked his hip and smiled smugly. “Excellent. He’s finally asked.” He stared pointedly at the ring on her finger, completely missing her T-shirt, which she’d donned in his honor. She wore it over a long-sleeved white shirt, which emphasized the black material and the colors of the British flag that were painted across the front.

  “You can relax,” she said tiredly. “I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”

  “But you will. He’s not exactly one to accept no as an answer,” he said knowingly. “And you’re
wearing it. That must mean something, don’t you think?”

  She studied the ring for a moment. “Was it your wife’s?”

  He shook his head. “No. She favored a more contemporary style. I have hers still, and when Christian chooses, I hope he’ll use it. That particular ring,” he nodded at her hand, “belonged to my grandmother. She was a fine old lady, unlike any I’ve ever met. Eben felt this would suit you best.”

  “It does,” she murmured. “It’s perfect.” She looked up at his face, studying him. “You should have told me the challenge was today.”

  He flinched slightly and refilled his coffee cup. “Yes. But none of us wanted to worry you. I won’t lie to you—this could very well end with Eben dead. Theron’s strong. But then, so is Eben, and he’s just as ruthless and vicious as any I’ve known. It’ll be a close fight.”

  Her heart did its fluttering thing again, and she felt weak with it. He could die. How would she survive it?

  “What time do we leave?”

  He glanced at the clock. “In two hours. The Elders will want to question you, and they’ll need time to do so. And I always prefer to be there early rather than late.”

  She tapped her fingers on the countertop, trying to picture the gathering, but her mind wasn’t up to it. There was still one more aspect she needed an answer on.

  “Are they going to be changed?” she asked carefully.

  “Some will,” Connor said. “Some won’t. Eben will be in the change of course, as will Theron. Other than that, it’s a personal choice. Christian will change, he always does. I won’t.”

  “Thank you.”

  He bowed his head slightly. “It’s my pleasure, Gwen.”

  She dressed heavily for the meeting, putting on as many layers as she could manage under her jacket. Conner came prepared for cold weather, but Christian only wore a heavy flannel.

  At her raised eyebrows, he only shrugged. “Our body temp goes up when we change.”

  The drive was tense. Connor seemed especially agitated as he drove to their destination, and replied tersely to Christian’s questions. Gwen wisely chose to stay quiet during the drive, and watched silently as the sky darkened to the constant night of winter.

  Connor pulled into someone’s driveway. At least, Gwen thought it was a driveway. It was so old and overgrown it was difficult to tell at first. As they drove down, she saw an old house, abandoned by the look of it, and two outbuildings, although they were in disrepair. Everything else was just trees and woods and empty spaces. Connor pulled in next to the barn and turned off the car. There were already what looked to be thirty other vehicles there.

  They got out, and Gwen immediately felt the sharp cold. Christian didn’t seem to be bothered by the icy breeze that was blowing, but then, neither did Connor. Both men looked directly toward the woods, their focus on the coming battle and the gathering of their pack.

  “Come on,” Connor ordered, no longer the nice older gentleman she was so fond of. He was domineering and autocratic, powerful enough to hold position as pack leader for years. Gwen couldn’t help but feel a tingle of alarm as she followed them into the woods. He let Christian lead, and stayed next to her the entire time, keeping her safe and pointing out obstacles in the path as they walked. Occasionally he’d nod to other pack members, but he was intent on his purpose, which was keeping her healthy and whole.

  The forest they entered was ancient, with huge trees, and vines growing around and through the branches, wild and curled everywhere. It was like a completely separate world, Gwen thought. It reminded her of being in church. The feeling of inferiority was the same whether facing God or his greatest creations, and it comforted her. This place of all places was right, untouched and wild as it was intended.

  The path grew more and more narrow, and thicker with snow as they went. She had trouble more than once, only to be saved by Connor’s strong arms lifting her out of a drift or over a thick branch. No one else seemed to have that problem, but no one else seemed to even see that she did. Even Christian was totally focused on moving forward.

  They finally broke from the path and poured into a clearing, overhung completely with trees so that it formed a sort of dome that opened in the middle. The sky was visible through the hole in the canopy, dark and heavy with clouds. Gwen stared up at it for a minute, wondering how they knew when the moon was full if they couldn’t see it.

  “Stay by my side, child,” Connor cautioned, as they stood at the back.

  Gwen nodded, feeling her heart beating too quickly. No one had changed yet, but she could feel that wild energy that seemed to surround those who were Were, and she took it seriously.

  “Christian,” he ordered. “Let Eben know we’re in.”

  Christian nodded and loped off to the other side of the clearing. She followed his movements and saw him stop before three older men, bow regally, and then move off to the side, where Eben stood alone, large, dark and imposing.

  “God, he’s beautiful,” she murmured.

  Connor’s heart melted at her whispered tone. “Have you told him you love him?”

  She looked over at him, an almost panicked look on her face. “What?”

  “You love him,” he said simply. “He’s always been lacking in love. His mother abandoned him when he was young, and I think that left a scar. He needs love, Gwen, perhaps more than anyone I’ve ever known.”

  She turned away from him and wrapped her arms tighter around her waist. “I don’t know him well enough.” Yet her words from early that morning echoed in her ears, as if to refute what she’d said.

  Connor tilted his head and watched her, noting her worried expression and the pain in her eyes. “I knew my wife for one day before I fell in love with her, and she was my heart. When she died, I knew there was no use trying to replace her. I love her still, and I will until I die. It’s not always like that, mind you, but with Eben, I have no doubt he will love just as fully as I did.”

  Just then, a young woman came through the crowd. She was tall, near six feet, with long blonde hair and deep brown eyes. She bowed regally to Connor, then looked at Gwen. “They will see you now.”

  Gwen reached for Connor. He grasped her hand tightly and followed her through the crowd as Gwen followed the other woman. She kept her head down, didn’t look at the others as she made her way, and tried to figure out what, exactly, she was going to say.

  The woman stopped them before the three old gentlemen. Each one looked like he was over eighty-five, and each one had hard eyes, full of memories of the glory of youth.

  “This is the woman?” the one on the left asked, turning his head to Eben.

  “It is,” he answered, staring coolly at Gwen.

  “She’s rather small, isn’t she?”

  Gwen frowned at the old man. “You’re not terribly large, either.” And he wasn’t. They were all three shrunken with age. It seemed rude to her for them to point fingers.

  “True,” he sighed. “But I haven’t always been like this.”

  Gwen let that go and waited. It didn’t take long.

  “We wish to know about this Were you saw,” the one in the middle said, his voice breathy with age. “Tell us of that night.”

  Behind her, Connor squeezed her hand reassuringly. She started out haltingly. It was difficult to recount such a personal tale to utter strangers. At some point, she found herself watching Eben, and from that point on, she grew more comfortable, and finished the story without crying.

  “And you’re sure Theron was this Were, this animal you saw that night?” a man asked from the side. He had a hostile look in his eyes, like he blamed her for the proceedings.

  She frowned but directed her answer to the Elders. “I thought about this also,” she said. “I drew several pictures of him after it happened, so his image has remained fresh in my mind. But also, I’m sure because of what Matthew Granville said several days ago, during a botched attempt to kidnap me.”

  “We’ve heard the tale,” the middle one s
aid. “So you didn’t pinpoint Theron as your attacker of that night.”

  “No,” she said. “But I believe it is him. I recognized him in the pictures Eben showed me.”

  The old men all nodded in tandem. One of them said, “You are dismissed.” The man at the side took her place in front of them and started arguing fiercely. Gwen didn’t wait around to hear what he was saying, and happily let Connor lead her away.

  The people looked ordinary, even boring, she decided as she looked over the gathered crowd as they passed through. Some were tall, others weren’t. Some were heavy, and others weren’t. Some were men, some were women. She would have never picked any of them out as werewolves, but in the clearing their combined energy was familiar, and reminded her of the night in the pub. That had been what was off with them. It wasn’t anything visible, just a sense, and it grew stronger when they gathered together.

  Gwen and Connor were on one side of the clearing when suddenly there was a huge indrawn breath from the crowd. She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see over everyone, and caught sight of a tall nude form striding around the circle left bare in the middle of the clearing. He was tall and lanky, with muscled arms and chest, and red hair and beard. He was attractive, if a little boring with it.

  He bowed low to them all. “My people,” he said in a rich baritone voice, a smile on his lips. Then he looked through the crowd at Gwen, and pressed his lips into a kiss.

  She stumbled back and turned to Connor. “Did he do what I think he did?”

  Connor’s eyes were hard as he turned to her. “He did,” he growled low.

  There was another collective breath, and then she saw a shadow move forward, large and bulky and dark. Eben seemed to glide, his steps were so smooth. He too was nude as he stepped within the circle, and the differences between the two men were obvious. Eben, too, was muscular and tall, but he was thicker, and built heavier. He was built for endurance, where Theron was more high-spirited.