by C. M. Owens
Mom rolls her eyes. "Good. I'm sick of them anyhow."
Not the answer I expected. Frankie looks at her and smiles. "Same here." His smile falls as he takes in her closeness with my father, and he looks away to hide the tremor of pain. Shit. Frankie has loved her for so long.
"Well," Zee mumbles, breaking his silence. "What now?"
Everyone sits quietly for a minute, but finally, Kane says, "Now—we get ready. There's going to be one hell of a fight. And I have a feeling it'll be coming soon."
Kane shuts and locks the door to our small bedroom, and then he looks around woefully. Spoiled thing.
"Missing your big bad bedroom?" I tease, making him smile as he continues his survey.
"I just wish there was somewhere better than this for this moment."
My heart flutters from his seemingly distracted comment. What's he talking about? Better for what? I try not to think about the answers to those questions.
He finally quits studying his small surroundings, and then he chuckles when he sees me. "Relax, babe," he mutters while leaning down to fish something out of his bag. Whatever it is, he shoves it into his pocket. "Come here," he says, smiling.
He opens his arms for me, and I willingly go to him, cuddling against him as he drops to the bed and drags me with him. I smile as his lips gently stroke my forehead, and then his hand slides down my back to start tracing circles on my back. I nuzzle my head into the crook of his neck, sighing contently.
"Somewhere better for what moment?" I ask, suddenly feeling less anxious.
"This moment," he says, pulling me closer. Then I feel something cool against my skin—something metal.
I look down to see him dragging a ring up my side, smiling as he lets the metal graze my skin with a feather-soft touch. I sigh in relief and disappointment. It's not an engagement ring. It's a... mood ring?
"What's that?" I ask, grinning when it tickles my side.
He smiles as well, and then he kisses my forehead lightly before pulling back.
"This is a special ring blessed by a chanter. It'll show all your moods—which will serve me well," he says, winking at me and making me laugh. Then his face turns back serious. "Each color is personalized, making it just for you. It'll only read your moods—no one else's."
Tears well up in my eyes as I stare at the ring he has drawn closer to my face. It's just a black stone right now—devoid of any emotion and waiting for my touch. I reach for it, but he pulls it back, keeping it just out of my reach.
"I can't have my ring?" I ask, trying to pout, but only managing to grin instead when I see the sweet smile he has.
"You can, but not yet. I need to explain the colors and what they mean first."
I smile up at him, enjoying the beauty in his emerald green eyes, but oddly—I wish he'd give me his night stalker eyes—the real him.
"Explain," I say with a girlish grin.
He takes a deep breath, as though he's nervous, and I tilt my head in bemusement.
"When you're angry, it'll turn lycan orange," he says, his smile returning as he teases me a bit.
I can't help but let a snicker free. Then he continues, "When you're irritated, it'll turn incubus red and green." Again I laugh. "When you're scared, it'll turn widow purple."
I shiver. Those creatures still creep me out.
"What about when I'm sad?" I ask. I'm met with his hesitant exhalation.
"Changer yellow."
My moment of laughter and lightness has been weighted by reality and doused with a strike of pain.
"Oh," I mutter, restraining the tears.
He gives me my moment, and then I look up to see his soft greens staring into mine, promising so much more than words ever could.
"And when I'm happy?" I ask, wondering why he hasn't mentioned that emotion yet.
His eyes shift, changing from green to blue in that moment, and I smile as he does.
"Night stalker blue."
I chuckle and sniffle at once as I wipe away my remaining tears. He leans down, kisses my head, and then draws back, still keeping the ring out of my grasp. When I reach again, he pulls it back once more.
"I still can't have it?" I ask, pouting for emphasis.
I'm rewarded by his incredible laughter, and then a sweet brush of his lips against mine.
"On one condition," he says, grinning as he leans away. "You have to say yes."
I tilt my head, curious and intrigued. "Yes."
He chuckles loudly, and I stare at him, confused.
"You haven't heard the question."
I lean forward, kiss his chin, then trail my lips up his cheek very slowly. "I'm sure I'll say yes no matter what it is. I love you, you know."
I expect a laugh, a smile—anything other than a harsh breath. I pull back to see the deep concern in his eyes. He looks… nervous? What the hell is he going to ask?
"I hope so," he murmurs quietly while climbing off the bed and walking around to my side.
I sit up and swing my legs around so that I'm facing him. He kneels before me, trying to shrug off his nerves, and suddenly my heart almost stops beating.
"I meant it when I said I want eternity with you. This time I bought a ring to prove it. I love you so damn much, Alyssa, and I swear I'll do everything in my power to keep you safe, happy, and—well, sane."
My happy tears invade my laughter. His smile spreads a little easier as I watch with a still heart, a tingling body, and a catch in my throat.
"You and I were in love before we knew destiny's warped plan. It's real—it always has been. I'll go to the depths of hell and back for you, and you know it. All you have to do is say yes."
My eyes move from his night stalker blues to the ring a few times in quick repetition. After I remain silent for a few, long, drawn out minutes, he laughs nervously.
"I'll stay on my knee all damn day if I have to, but the suspense is killing me, baby."
I smile as I finally look up and hold his gaze. "You didn't ask a question."
His smile grows bigger, stronger, and the angst starts to drift out of his eyes.
"Are you ready to be mine for the rest of your life?"
Leave it to a night stalker - I mean, creature god - to make a proposal that possessive, but that's why I love him.
"Yes."
His grin is almost too big as he pushes the ring onto my finger, and it turns night stalker blue within a second, announcing my giddy feelings.
He pushes me to my back as he comes cover my body with his, and our lips brush lightly before he says, "For the record, the proposal was just a courtesy. You would have been mine regardless."
I just laugh as he smiles, knowing he's not being serious. I don't think. Our world is so twisted that it's hard to tell sometimes.
When his lips devour mine, my thoughts are banished and replaced with desire. His hand slides down to the top of my jeans, and I let him peel them off me, barely moving and never breaking our kiss as he does so. When his hand slides up my shirt, my body shudders, a moan slips free, and I press closer, desperate for more. When his deep growl in the back of his throat climbs out, I shiver noticeably beneath him.
Usually, he starts shredding clothes and rushing the pace when my reactions to his touch go this far, but not today—not in this moment.
He slowly continues, peeling off each layer of clothing, placing small kisses on me here and there, until I'm bare beneath his night stalker eyes.
"Take it down," he whispers against my ear, making it impossible to think with his delicious breath so close.
"Take what down?" I mutter, half absent from the conversation as my fantasies begin to grow. Naked. He needs to be naked.
His clothes disappear and reappear on the floor as my magic creeps out to answer my request.
He leans up, letting his eyes drift to my hidden secret. "The veil. You don't have to hide it from me. You don't have to hide anything."
It's a hideous scar with painful memories. Why would he want to see it? Right n
ow of all times? It'll kill the mood.
"No," I murmur, shaking my head.
He presses his hand against my hidden scar, and I feel the veil lifting against my will. When I try to move—to stop him—he holds me still as he completes the impossible. He's stronger than I realized.
"Why do you want to see that?" I mumble, still squirming.
"Because I want you to feel comfortable with me—to know I love you no matter what. This scar does not have the power you give it. I love every piece of you, inside and out."
As my tears waver, he leans down and presses a kiss to my scar, dragging his lips across it as though it doesn't disgust him. I tense, remaining motionless, and he continues. As the tears start falling from my eyes, he leans up, kissing them as though he's taking it all away, banishing the pain attached to the day that marred me. Then he moves back to the vicious marks.
"Kane," I whisper, tugging at him, pleading for him to stop, but he doesn't. My veil won't reseal.
I whimper again, and his lips take mine just before he thrusts inside me, making me jolt from the unexpectedness of it. My breath heaves out in a gush, and he grins down wickedly, making me tingle to my core.
"Better?" he murmurs before beginning his exquisitely tormenting pace, owning me in a way only he was meant to.
"Much," I utter breathlessly, forgetting about the lost veil and reveling in the ecstasy he so easily offers.
Each time he pulls back, it's slow, sensual, and different from anything we've ever done. No hurried or frenzied motions, no tearing or clawing. It's raw, pure, and divine. I can almost feel our souls intertwining as we move together.
He spins me, pulls me up to be on top, and we sit face-to-face, eye-to-eye. I keep the rhythm, feeling all the more connected as his blue eyes stay strong.
He rocks my hips, never losing the steady pace, and my eyes start trying to roll back in my head as the pleasure building inside me starts to tighten, ready to burst free. The power in the house hums, buzzes, and tries to crackle out—our nearly tangible connection that has spawned an energy of its own.
A garbled cry creeps free from me as I shatter and come apart in his arms, feeling heavy as it relaxes me to my core. Kane holds me, keeping me against him, until he stills inside me and releases a breath of exhaustion and satisfaction, whispering my name with the rattled breath.
We collapse to the bed, completely wrapped around each other, and I snuggle into his body, too tired to speak or move.
"I've never—it felt like I was inside your head, Alyssa," he murmurs softly, still breathing heavy.
A loud banging against our door startles us.
"What?" Kane grumbles.
Crap. Crap. Crap. Why didn't we turn on some music? Shit. This room isn't soundproof! Drackus is going to kill Kane.
"Better get out here. Some shit's going on outside. S'not pretty," Deke says, sounding bored more than panicked.
Kane reluctantly leaves the bed, and I scramble up, too, using my magic to redress us both. He grabs my hand as we head out to inspect what has fucked with our day this time.
I gasp when I see Reese, the Alpha werewolf bastard Kane fought with. How did he find us?
His betas stand behind him, ready to attack anyone who moves. Drackus is arguing with Reese, but it's in hushed whispers too low for even my strained hearing.
"That's nonsense and you know it," Drackus says when my hearing finally picks up on pieces of the conversation at play.
Kane grips my hand tighter as Reese lets his eyes fall on me, raking me up and down.
"Funny, Drackus. It looks like it's true to me," he says, grinning as he settles his gaze on mine.
What?
Drackus turns around, his eyes widening when they meet mine, and Kane turns to look down at me, frustration suddenly filling his expression when he says, "Fuck."
Chapter 22
Based on the tremors of terror spreading through the eyes of the betas, my damn eyes are silver right now. I really need to figure out a way to cap that off.
"How did you know?" Kane growls.
Reese's sinister grin only grows as his eyes churn with the autumn promise of his Were blood. He holds his hand up and motions over his shoulder for someone to bring him something.
I gasp when I realize that something is a bound and gagged human wearing a blindfold. His silver necklace glistens against the sun, making me squint. He drops to his knees, his begging muffled by the rubber ball strapped between his teeth. He's shirtless, his hands are handcuffed behind his back, and his pants are not far from falling off.
It almost looks like some BDSM kink instead of a hostage situation. I wish he had a safe-word.
"What the fuck is this?" Kane blares, motioning toward what is most likely a human, possibly an unturned immortal, based on the panic in his motions and his stench of fear.
"This?" Reese asks, sounding bored. "The human male who helped the witch bitch that killed our werecat."
My fear and sympathy for the human don't flee, but they do simmer down some. If he helped kill Thad, I don't know if I'll have any compassion. I pray I do.
"How do you know he acted of his own accord?" Kane asks, clenching his teeth.
Reese bends over, unsnaps the gag, and rips the blindfold off in one motion. The human male starts whimpering and groveling, begging for mercy. Reese nods toward Kane.
"Show him who you really are."
Kane tilts his head and looks toward Dray who has taken his place at Drackus's side. When he nods in reluctant approval, Kane sighs and lets his night stalker blues come to life, and his fangs slip free.
The human squeals and scrambles backwards with his hands still bound. "Vampire."
Reese chuckles when he snaps the cuffs in half, letting the man free. He leaps up, and screams, "Vampire!" again.
Then he grabs the cross on his neck and holds it out, acting as though Kane is supposed to burst into flames or something. We all roll our eyes in unison. Zee actually snorts out a laugh. Stupid human.
"And you think this cross-wielding human helped kill a changer as strong as Thad? Or a vicious werecat?" Kane asks incredulously, pointing to the sloppy human who is now slobbering out verses from the bible. We're not demons. "Next thing you know, he'll try driving a stake through my heart."
Deke laughs this time, and even Drackus cracks a smile. Mom and Shay appear in time to catch what's going on. Where have they been?
Dice walks up from the woods, shaking his head. "The human knows we exist. That's apparent. But he didn't actively help her kill the Were or the changer. Not possible. He's rolling around and praying. Seriously?"
Reese huffs, but he slaps the human on the back of the head.
"Tell them what the human witch told you, and I might not rip you to shreds while you try holding me off with your cross."
The human cries harder, possibly hyperventilating, but he heaves it out between breaths. "The girl... she's a creature of... some stupid... I don't know what it's called. A... goddess or something! I didn't want to believe it. She... she made me see them change. I... swear... I swear I didn't kill anyone!"
Unless he has a secret Buffy power, this human isn't capable of killing one of us.
"Fine," Reese groans. "Get him out of here and have someone dust his memories."
The betas oblige, and Shay runs over. "I'll dust them."
Chaz appears at my side, his head already tilted in confusion as he stares at the autumn eyes of the alpha.
"Didn't know these woods had wolves."
Reese stares at the duster in disbelief, snarling in disgust.
"I didn't realize this crowd was pathetic enough to bring along fairies."
Chaz opens his mouth to speak—or threaten the alpha—but Dice beats him to it. "I wouldn't do that if I were you. He really doesn't like to be called a fairy."
That changes Chaz's scowl to a near grin, and I have to stifle a laugh.
Reese snorts derisively, but he doesn't press it. Instead, he turns his att
ention to me. "Creature Goddess. You're not supposed to exist."
Kane grinds his teeth and steps in front of me. "If you try to—"
"Wolves are loyal," Reese says, interrupting my fuming fiancé. Fiancé. That sounds so good. "Very loyal. Freya was our queen long ago. She saved us from extinction. A daughter or granddaughter of hers is a queen of ours. There's a war coming. You're going to need more allies than this," he says, motioning to our small semblance of a fucked-up coven.
He's right. There is a war coming, but I'm not so sure wolves are really as loyal as he claims.
"How did the human witch know who she was?" Zee asks.
Reese doesn't look so cocky or intimidating. Instead, he seems helpful for a change. "The spirit told her. It seems someone had been talking to the spirit—someone from our world. They know she exists. They're planning to strike, and they'll be prepared for her. We need to be ready."
Kane breathes out heavily, watching in dismay as our brief moment of euphoria is swept away by the darkness in our lives.
"How'd you find us?" Kane asks, still grilling the supposed-friendly wolf.
"We were staking out your place, waiting on you to return. We followed your lycans back from your old place. They really need to learn to spot a tail better."
Kane murmurs something under his breath, and then he shakes his head.
"I need to go instruct my pack," Reese says, turning to walk away and leave us with the heaviness that has settled.
"Just when I thought things were getting better," I mumble.
"Where’re the lycans and Frankie?" Chaz asks, looking to us.
I shrug, and Kane does the same. Dice smirks as he answers. "The she-devils and the warlock went to go check the perimeter after the wolves snuck in without catching our attention. Everyone got out of the house like you did when the two of them got to celebrating," he says teasingly, pointing a thumb in our direction.
