Too many of them had been lost to the witch burners. Too many innocents had been lost as well. And things weren’t much better for the Were. That’s what had made her solution so perfect.
She held her head high, face tilted to the moon as she shouted the final words to complete the cycle of binding and rid this pack of their burden of Darkness forever. Her voice was hoarse, but her words still rang with power as she banished the Darkness back to the nether it had come from. It screamed its defiance, but even though it had got more desperate with every purging she’d made, it had no power against the combined might of her own powers and her beloved Goddess.
The light spun bright about her. The Were howled to the moonlight as the moondust she’d summoned sifted down on all of them, releasing them from the cursed torture of their trapped wolves and allowing them to feel a harmony with their animal side they’d never felt before. No longer made rabid from a month-long incarceration inside human flesh, the wolves could live in harmony with their human sides, unfettered and in control of their base nature. No Were would ever rampage through the night, murdering innocents, feeding on human flesh in an orgy of hatred. Her pact would create order from chaos.
The pact would save them all.
The silver glow that surrounded her flickered out as the last of the Were ran off into the night to rejoice in their ability to change at will. It would only last a few days, a week at most, with the power she’d given them tonight, but it was enough for now. The local coven they would be linked to would give this gift to them when she finished the working. Once the final spell was in place, every witch and warlock would be bonded to a pack, would be bound to that pack for eternity through their bloodlines, sharing of their power and existing in harmony with those who saved them with their need.
Her arms dropped to her side and her knees buckled.
‘I have you, my lady.’
Bridgette smiled in relief as strong hands caught her, stopping her from crashing to the ground. ‘Malcolm.’ His name was a mere puff of breath as he covered her in a cloak and swept her into his arms, carrying her from the dance.
He’d stood just outside the ring of stones as she performed the ritual, just like he’d stood every night as they brought more packs into the fold. He was strong and sure and always at her side looking after her every need. ‘How do you always know when I need you most?’
‘I am your Shadow, my lady.’
‘You are.’ She tried to make out his face as he carried her through the edge of the wood, the only light came from the flickering beams cast by the full moon high above. He didn’t look at her as he normally would, though. She felt the loss as a shiver through her bones.
‘Are you not well, my lady?’
‘I am simply tired.’
‘You should not have worked your spell tonight.’
‘I had to. The pregnancy married with the power of Oestra on this first night of vernal equinox enabled me to reach all the packs in this area at once. It would have taken much longer if I had not cast out the Darkness tonight and bound them to me with the power of the Goddess’s rebirth.’
He sighed, but argued no further. ‘I built a fire in the shepherd’s cottage. It is rough, but there is a pallet of fresh straw. You will rest there afore we move on the morrow.’
‘That sounds blissful.’
She lay in his arms, head on his shoulder, enjoying the heady sound of his heart beating in his chest and began to doze. She awoke as he laid her down on something soft. ‘Where are we?’
‘In the cottage. Sleep mo ghrá. You are tired.’
He bent over her, laying a blanket over her legs. A fire glowed in the hearth and by its light she could now see his features. Reaching up, she touched his face as he bent over her, wanting him to look at her. ‘What about you, my Shadow. Will you not take some rest?’
‘I will guard you.’ He straightened.
‘What danger can come to me here? The covens and the packs in this area are now our friends. They would not see us harmed.’
‘Nay. But they are na the only ones nearby. There ha’ been burnings in this region, and other attacks aside. I wouldna risk your safety.’
She sighed. ‘You are a good Shadow, Malcolm. I will tell the McVale of your devotion to your task.’
Those bright, gold-flecked green eyes pierced her in the semi-dark, something wild and passionate flaming there. ‘I do na do it to impress my Alpha.’
Bridgette’s throat went dry. ‘Then why are you here?’
His gaze bored into her. ‘You ken it.’
She shook her head.
‘You do. Dinna tell me you dinna ken it when you feel it in every glance atween us.’ He cupped her cheek and Goddess help her, she couldn’t help but lean into it. ‘When you long for my touch.’ He gripped her hand, held it against his chest. ‘When your heart beats apace with mine. You ken.’
She held herself still, her jaw clenched against the desire to admit to him the secret want inside her, marring her soul. It was impossible. She could not take a lover. She could not love again. Not like that. Not like this. Not like he wanted, needed, deserved. She’d had her chance. She had children already, a constant reminder of the man she’d once loved and lost in the most insidious way. She could not take the chance at such pain ever again.
‘Why canna you admit that you want me?’
Oh, Goddess. Such pain and desire in his voice as to be impossible to deny. Why must you do this to me? Why now? she railed silently to her Goddess. She couldn’t lose him as her Shadow. Not now. Not when she needed his strength so.
But there was no answer, because the only answer could come from inside her. ‘I do not want to hurt you, Malcolm, but I cannot give you what you want.’
He growled, the low hum of it vibrating deep inside her, tugging at her desire. ‘You are my mate.’
‘No!’ She scrambled up from the pallet, away from him to the other side of the room. But he was at her side in an instant. ‘No.’
‘Aye. You are my mate.’
‘But you’re a Lone Wolf.’
‘Lone Wolves mate, but only to one who speaks to their soul on every level.’
‘You’re mistaken.’
‘I am not. Your very scent is imprinted in my heart.’ He leaned forward and dragged his nose across her collarbone. She had to bite her tongue to stop from groaning, but he heard it. She could tell by the smile that curled on his lips that he knew she was weakening to him.
‘I belong to nobody but myself.’
‘I dinna want to own you, Bridgette. I wish to share everything I am with you. You are my mate. I ken it the very first time I saw you. And you ken it too.’
‘No. You imagined it.’
‘This isna something I ever imagined. Were never mate with humans, and bonds atween your kind and mine are almost as unusual. And for a Lone Wolf to find a soulmate—even more impossible. Yet it is so. Aye. I could no more deny the bond that sprang into place than I could deny how beautiful you are. Or how powerful. I ken I shouldna even deign to be in the presence of one such as you. Our backgrounds are against us, but I dinna think you are one of those highborn women who care about such things and I canna deny how I feel.’
His words were like a warm stroke inside her, his soft Scots burr reshaping her soul. She tried to resist it, resist him, but the longer he stood there this close, his breath brushing over her face, his heat radiating into her in a way that was disturbing her in too many ways to fathom, his fingers circling her wrist, shivers cascading all over her body, she knew it was becoming increasingly impossible. She had to stop him. Tell him so that he understood. ‘I cannot be with you, Malcolm.’
He tensed, his nostrils flaring. ‘I am na good enough for you.’ He let go of her and turned away.
‘No!’ Her denial was too sharp, almost desperate. She didn’t want to lead him on, but she didn’t want him to think so ill of her either. She didn’t care about background or status, because in the end, none of that mattere
d. ‘No,’ she said more gently as he turned back to face her. ‘You were right. I do not care about status. What matters is what kind of person you are—and Malcolm, you are the best man I have ever met.’
Joy bloomed in his eyes and he took a step towards her again, but before he could come too close, she put her hand out, planting it on his chest. He stopped. She could feel his heart beating again, the swell of his pectoral muscles, the smooth heat of his skin under the thin material of his shirt. One of his nipples was under her palm—it pebbled to her touch. She swallowed hard again, knew she should pull her hand away. But touching him felt so good. He was so good. ‘That does not matter.’ She cleared her husky throat. ‘Because I still cannot be with you in that way.’
‘You deny you feel for me?’
She hesitated. She couldn’t lie to him. He would know. ‘You are more than my Shadow. You have become my friend and confidant. My strength.’
His mouth crooked up at the side as if he found what she said amusing, but there was no amusement in his glowing eyes. ‘Friends dinna tremble when they touch.’
‘I am not trembling,’ she said, her voice a bare husk. He looked down pointedly at her hand, which was still planted on his chest. She swallowed hard.
Before she could pull away, he grasped her wrist, holding her hand there.
‘Please, do not do this.’
‘You feel it.’ He inched closer.
‘You are incorrect.’ Her breath hitched.
He took the step that brought their bodies flush, that trapped her hand against his chest. ‘You feel it.’ His hands slid up her arms to her shoulders.
She shivered, her breath coming hard and fast and hot in her chest. ‘I do not.’
‘You feel it.’ His fingers wound into her hair, pulling her face up, lips inches from hers.
‘You are wr—’
His lips covered hers.
She stiffened as lights exploded behind her eyes. The sensation of his lips—so firm to look at, but so soft in reality—overwhelmed her senses. A small part of her mind tried to tell her she was exhausted, and that was why she was having this reaction to his kiss. Why she couldn’t push away. But as energy shot through her and her power expanded, shimmering from her skin and into him, she knew that wasn’t true. Something else was happening here and she couldn’t control it. Couldn’t stop it.
His tongue swept across her lips, cajoling, demanding entrance. She tried to hold firm, but when his teeth nipped her bottom lip and then he followed the tease by sucking her lip into his mouth, she couldn’t help the moan that escaped. Or the way her hands slid up his chest, clutching at his shoulders and diving into his silky dark hair. Her mouth opened, his tongue slipped in. She welcomed it as if it were manna from heaven. She’d never felt anything so good as the way Malcolm kissed; with his entire being. He kissed her as if he needed her; truly needed her. As if he could not survive if he did not keep his mouth on hers.
However, if she didn’t stop this madness, she would be the one who wouldn’t survive. She wrenched away from him, stepped back, tried to create some distance. Her back hit the wall behind her. She blinked up at him. He smiled, stepped closer, pressing against her. She moaned at the delicious sensation of his hard muscles pressed along the length of her, the friction of her breasts against his hard chest. Without thought, she slid her hands into his hair. She saw his grin just before he bent to take her mouth with his again. The hard length of him ground against her as his tongue played with hers. Her fingers tightened in his hair. He growled low in his throat. The growl vibrated through her and her womb clenched. She knew she should let go, stop this, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t.
His mouth left hers and she whimpered until his hot, hot lips pressed wet kisses down the length of her throat, coming to a stop where her pulse beat wildly against her skin. He bit down lightly. She jerked, but didn’t pull away, the building heat inside her tied in some inexplicable way to the sensation of his teeth on her neck. She wanted more. More.
He cupped her bottom, pulling her even tighter against him. The sensation made her want to scream, but it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t close enough. She ground closer to him. His cock flexed against her and this time he groaned.
‘Bridgette. I need to be inside you. Now.’
‘Yes.’ She knew she shouldn’t have said it, but couldn’t stop the word exploding out of her mouth. She was flying, filled with a burning need she hadn’t felt for years. No. She had never felt something that burned this bright, this hot.
His warm breath against her neck, her cheek, her mouth, he lifted her in his arms to lay her down on the pallet once again. His hand swept over her and her gown fell open, baring her to his gaze.
For a brief moment she was cold, alone, vulnerable, but then her gaze met his and the fire of desire blazing there, for her and only her, warmed her from her toes to her head, lingering in swirling pools of tugging heat in her womb, her breasts. Liquid warmth pooled between her thighs and his nostrils flared as the scent of her desire filled the air. He had seen her naked over and over, every time she had performed the ceremony to bond the Were and covens to her and the Goddess. But if he’d looked at her like this then, she’d missed it. A smile, so sexy it made her womb clench tighter, tilted his lips and he leaned forward, his hand tracing the path his eyes had previously taken. He lingered over the small bulge of the child growing in her womb—a child that was treasured, despite having been begot in violence. The way his hands stroked over her, she knew he treasured the growing soul inside her the same way.
‘Sex cannot harm the bairn.’ His voice was strained, husky with his desire.
‘I know.’ The way he cared for her and the babe took her breath away.
Then he was kissing her again and all thought exploded. His hands moved from her rounded stomach to her breasts. She arched into his touch, trembling, writhing. ‘Now, my Shadow. Now.’ She heard the tearing of material and then he was on top of her, his legs, hard and hair-roughened, rubbing in the most delicious way. The tip of his erection pressed against her entrance. She tensed, waiting for him to push inside her like other men had. But he didn’t.
‘Open your eyes.’
She didn’t want to. Didn’t want to see the look in his eyes again that told her this meant so much more than she was ready or willing to accept. She shifted, tried to push up, to force him to enter her, but he pushed her down with his hips.
‘Open your eyes, mo ghrá.’
‘Kiss me. Take me now.’
His knuckles brushed over her nipple. She gasped, tensed. ‘Not until you open your eyes.’
She shook her head.
He sucked her nipple into his mouth. She screamed and arched into him. His tongue twirled around the tight, sensitised bud, then he pulled back. Blew on it before covering it again with his entire mouth as his fingers speared into the wet folds between her legs, stroking, driving her to insanity. She tried to move, but he was merciless, tormenting her with his mouth on her breast and his fingers sliding around that little nub that could bring so much pleasure if only he would touch it. She thought she was going to pass out with the exquisite build of tension winding deep inside her.
‘Please. Please. Come inside me. I need it. Now.’
‘Open your eyes.’
She did as he asked, a sob in her throat. His gaze was a thunderstorm, wild and turbulent and so full of his determination that he was right about them being mates, that she could almost believe it true. But it couldn’t be true. She couldn’t let it. Unable to meet that gaze any longer, she said, ‘Kiss me.’
He did as she asked this time, still holding her hips down so she couldn’t move up and onto him, his hands cupping her face. His lips moved over hers. She opened to him, brushing her tongue along his, seeking more. Deeper. He moved, brushing kisses along her jaw, her cheek, over her eyes.
‘So beautiful.’
He pulled back, the pressure of his gaze like a stroke. She rolled her face to suck his thumb into her
mouth, twirling her tongue around the tip.
‘Fuck. You will be the death of me, mo ghrá.’
‘Then take me now before this is the death of both of us.’
He spread his legs, opening hers, flexed his cock so it brushed over her entrance once, twice, then lips meeting hers in a hot, hard tangle of tongue and teeth, he plunged inside her, swallowing her scream of relief and release.
Legs and arms wrapped around him, Bridgette gave herself over to the sensation of him moving against her, inside her. She had never thought to do this with anyone again. Knew this could never be allowed to happen after this night. He was mistaken—she wasn’t his mate. He was just carried away with caring for her. But right now, for this moment, she allowed herself to enjoy the feeling of a man, a wonderful man, inside her, making love to her with his body and soul as if she was the only thing in his life that held any importance.
It was a heady feeling and made the orgasm, when it came, lift her up and over, flying into the clouds so high she thought she might never come down. So high, for a moment, she didn’t worry about the future and what tomorrow might bring.
Chapter 18
Eloise woke with a start when they stopped driving, the dream whispering tendrils of fog in her head, her body tingling with expectation. She jumped at Iain’s touch.
‘Eloise? Are you okay?’
She wasn’t sure. Her dream had been so intense and the desire to crawl on top of him and repeat what she’d experienced in the dream was overpowering. Especially now she had first-hand knowledge of exactly what being with him felt like. He seemed to know what was in her mind as she sat there, staring at him, pulling back on the aching hunger.
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