by Lydia Dare
Simon bared his teeth and growled.
Lily’s hand stilled, hanging in the air in mid-reach. He growled again. There, he thought. That is what I am. I am fur and snout and teeth and bite. I am Lycan. I am not human.
Simon closed his eyes and sat very still. He hoped that, when he opened them, she would be long gone. She would come to her senses and leave him. But even more than that, he closed his eyes because he didn’t want to see the revulsion on her face he knew would be there. He knew she wouldn’t be able to accept him as he was.
Then she touched him. His eyes flew open, and he bared his teeth. He snarled. He would bite her if she wasn’t careful.
“There, now,” she whispered as a tear slipped from her eye and rode a path down her cheek. “Growl all you want.” Then a laugh broke from her throat. She said very softly, “When Emma and I were young, we had these cats in the stables. No one could touch them. They were feral. They hissed and scratched and bit. But I never gave up.”
Her hands threaded into the hair at his neck. She stroked him. She touched him. “I’ll never give up on you, either, Simon,” she said quietly. “Because I love you.”
Simon realized that he’d never told her he loved her. All the times he’d pleasured her. All the times he’d held her. He’d never told her. He suddenly felt a burning desire to do so.
Simon gritted his teeth and forced the physical characteristics of the beast to recede. He fought until he kneeled before her again in his human form.
Simon took her face in his human hands, his palms dirty from the mud under his claws, hands that were unable to be gentle. Hands that wanted to bite cruelly into her flesh. She cried out. He instinctively gentled his touch.
Before tonight, he’d never been able to do that. He’d never been able to control the beast.
“Did you hear me? I said I love you.” She repeated the words, her eyes searching his.
“I love you too much,” he snarled, well aware that his lips lifted from his teeth. But unable to force the beast away completely.
“Love me enough,” she simply said and held out her arms to him.
Simon kneeled before her on shaky legs. His body wanted to be in Lycan form. His mind wanted to stay in human form. His heart wanted to love Lily.
His heart won.
Simon took her face in his hands. “I cannot be gentle,” he growled.
“I know,” she said. She took his hand in hers and brought it to the curls at the juncture of her thighs. He slid his fingers into her hot, wet body. “I give myself to you, my wolf, because I know you will keep me safe,” she said.
He needed no more urging. She cried out when he picked her up and spun her in his arms. He faced her away from him, her bottom cradled in the saddle of his hips. He pressed against her, ready to take her.
Simon wrapped one arm around Lily’s waist and used the other to press her shoulders toward the ground. She extended her arms to hold herself up and looked over her shoulder at him.
Her auburn hair clung to her back like wet ropes. He brushed it to the side, exposing the arch of her spine. The soft rain that fell left droplets of water on her skin.
Control. He needed control.
Simon allowed himself the pleasure of licking a path up her spine, his tongue lapping at the drops of water until he reached her neck.
“I am yours,” she whispered. “Know that it’s me who takes you, Simon.” She repeated the words he’d said to her their first time together.
“No one else, Lily,” he growled before thrusting inside her. Her heat enveloped him as he pushed further. She gasped with undisguised pleasure.
The beast hovered just below the surface. The beast wanted to dominate her. Simon raked her back with his fingernails, hard enough to leave shallow red scratches down her tender white skin. He looked down in horror. What had he done?
“Again,” she panted. “Do it again,” she begged as she backed up against him and rocked forward. The heat of her slid down his length. She took him farther than ever before.
Simon’s nails raked a new path down her back as he slammed into her.
“More,” she said. The beast reared and fought. Simon bent low, pressing his chest to her back. One of his hands slipped into her hair and wound a knot around his fist. He tugged until her head was forced to turn. He breathed against her ear.
“It’s me who takes you,” he said, just before his teeth punctured the tender skin of her shoulder.
She erupted around him. He stopped to cry out at the sensation of her clamping around his length.
He wailed.
He howled.
He followed her.
Lily sank to the ground under Simon’s weight. He pressed her into the cold, soft earth. He slipped from her body within seconds, and she immediately felt the loss.
His hands brushed the hair away from her face. “Are you all right?”
Too weak to do more than nod, she slowly inclined her head. “Better,” she murmured. And she was. She was better than ever before. She was Simon’s wife. She was his partner. She was his Lycan mate.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice quavering slightly.
“Not a bit,” she assured him.
“I’m sorry I marked you.” He reached to touch the small wound on her shoulder.
“I’m not.” She smiled.
Simon rolled her over and looked into her eyes. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
“I’m not fragile, Simon.” She cupped his face in her hand.
Simon slid an arm beneath her knees and one under her shoulders and hoisted her against him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding tightly to him. Would he disappear if she let him go? Would he walk into the shadows and leave her?
“I’ll not leave you again,” he said, as though he read her mind. “If you’ll have me, all of me, I’ll share my Lycan life with you.”
“Do I have to wait a whole month to be able to do that again?” she asked, unable to withhold the laughter that erupted at the look on his face.
Simon carried her through the garden, into the house, up the stairs, and into their bedroom, both of them completely naked. He placed her gently on the bed.
“What’s this?” she asked, as she saw a note on her pillow, with a tin of salve and a small towel. “For the shoulder,” she read aloud. “Love, Alice.”
“That’s my mother for you,” Simon sighed. “I love her, but she really should mind her own matters.”
“Why did you fight it, Simon?” She had to know.
“I was afraid.”
“That I wouldn’t love you?”
“That I would never love myself.” He shrugged then joined her on the bed.
“I love you enough for both of us.” She kissed his jaw.
“A Lycan cannot be embraced by another until he embraces the wildness within himself.” He repeated the words at the front of his father’s book.
“Who wrote that?”
“Daniel.” He twirled a lock of her hair absently around his finger.
“Daniel?”
Simon just nodded and swallowed hard. “He wrote it when he realized what he’d done, how he’d ruined his chance for a happy life with Emma.”
“What do you mean?”
“He never embraced it. He never fully accepted that he was a Lycan. He dabbled at it, much like I did. He ran to hide every time the moon was full.
“By the time he took Emma, there was too much anger, too much despair. Then he hated himself. Every time she looked at him, she cringed. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want you to be disgusted by me.”
“I’m not.”
“And that, my dear, is the only thing that saved you.” He chuckled.
“Oh, so the big, bad wolf would have hurt me, would he?” She laughed as she sat up and pushed him onto his back. Then straddled his hips.
“This big, bad wolf has officially been tamed,” Simon said as he raised his hands above his head and relaxed.
“
I actually liked my beastly husband.” She pretended to pout. “He has a certain wolfish charm.” He sat up quickly, captured her in a tight embrace, and reversed their positions, so that he was over her.
He growled, “Then you, love, may have all of this beast you can stand.”
Lily adjusted for him as he settled between her thighs. “I would accept nothing less.”
Epilogue
THOROUGHLY AMUSED, SIMON WATCHED LILY RUSH around her bedchamber in a frenzy. She was looking behind tables and under the mattress, completely unaware of his presence in the doorway.
She blew a stray auburn curl from her face and then took a deep sigh as she planted her hands on her hips.
“You do know we have servants to clean the house,” he said, making her jump at least a foot in the air.
“Oh!” Lily spun around to face him. “Don’t do that. You nearly scared me to death.”
Simon couldn’t help but chuckle. “Love, you’ve married a wolf. You don’t scare all that easily.” A light blush stained her cheeks, and Simon was certain he’d never tire of the sight. “What are you looking for?”
Lily flopped down on her bed and frowned. “My father’s pocket watch. I know it arrived with the rest of my things from Maberley Hall, but I can’t find it anywhere.”
Simon crossed the floor and stood before her. “Your father’s pocket watch?”
She nodded and wiped a tear from her cheek.
Simon took her hands in his and pulled her up from the bed. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Oliver leaving, does it?”
The coach was waiting to take the three of them to Harrow, and Oliver was below stairs pacing the parlor, as he was anxious to leave.
Lily frowned at him. “I’d wanted to give it to him before we left. It’s the only thing my father had of value, and I thought it would make a good going-away gift. Something for him to remember me by.”
Simon touched her cheek. “Ah, love, there’s no boy more devoted to his mother than Oliver is to you. He doesn’t need a pocket watch to remember you.”
She sniffed back another tear. “Do you think he’s ready for this? We could wait another year,” she added hopefully.
Simon kissed her forehead. “You can’t stop him from growing up any easier than I can stop the moon’s cycles. It’s all part of life. And he’ll be fine. He’s anxious to see Leo Schofield again.”
At this Lily brightened. “He’ll keep an eye on Oliver?”
“He promised to do so,” Simon told her.
Someone coughed in the doorway, and Simon could have kicked himself for not shutting the door. He looked over his shoulder to find Billings holding a letter. “Your Grace.”
“What is it?” Simon asked, stepping toward his butler to take the letter.
Will’s seal. It had nearly been a month. Simon tore it open.
Dear Simon,
I trust you are well at Westfield Hall. You may be interested to know that I have located Benjamin. Please tell Prisca he sends his love. I will return when I am able. Give Lily a kiss for me.
Your devoted brother,
William
“What is it, Simon?” Lily asked, stepping forward.
Simon handed her the letter and watched confusion cross her face.
“He didn’t say much,” she said softly, giving the note back to him.
Not that Simon was surprised. Will kept quite a bit to himself. He always had. “He said enough.”
“He didn’t say if they were in trouble, or why Benjamin hadn’t written. He… Why did he send Prisca Benjamin’s love and not his own?”
Simon pocketed his brother’s note. “Don’t worry about it, Lily. You have more important things to concern yourself with.”
“Oliver,” she said wistfully.
“Indeed. Now do you really want your father’s pocket watch?”
Lily nodded. “I’ve looked everywhere, Simon.”
“Shh.” He touched his fingers to her lips. Then he closed his eyes and focused on the sounds in the room. In the far corner, he heard a faint, muffled ticking. Simon opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the sound. Lily’s armoire stood in the corner, and he edged toward it.
The ticking got a bit louder.
When Simon opened a drawer inside the armoire, he could hear it better. His fingers explored through frilly lace and satin until he came across something cold and metallic.
When he withdrew a gold pocket watch, Lily gasped. “How did you find it?”
He winked at her. “My hearing is excellent.”
“Will our children inherit all these wonderful traits?” she asked as she reached up to brush her fingers tenderly through the hair that hung over his forehead.
“Only the boys, love. Only the boys.”
“Wait.” Lily’s brow furrowed. “Only the boys inherit Lycan traits? That doesn’t seem quite fair.”
Simon couldn’t help but chuckle. She not only accepted him, but she wanted a house full of others just like him? How had he gotten so lucky?
Simon patted her bottom and shooed her out the door. “With the two of us combined, anything is possible, Lily love.”
Copyright © 2010 by Lydia Dare
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To Petrina and the ladies at the Historical Romance Critique Group on Yahoo!—Thank you for cheering me on, your wonderful friendship, an endless supply of smileys, and for catching all those pesky typos.
One
Arthur’s Seat, Edinburgh
July 1816
IF ELSPETH CAMPBELL REVEALED HOW MUCH SHE wanted to leave the cold, damp cave, her coven sisters would surely think she was mad. Her plaid slipped from her shoulders, and she fought the shiver that threatened, trying to close her eyes and mind to the chilly Scottish air. She couldn’t pull the plaid back into place until the ceremony was over.
They were meeting earlier than scheduled, as Caitrin foresaw trouble on the horizon for the Còig, though she hadn’t revealed her fears to them yet. Truthfully, Elspeth didn’t think Caitrin was certain what threatened them. They all knew the visions were clearest for their seer when the five of them were together.
To her right, Rhiannon tightened her grasp on Elspeth’s hand while Sorcha and Blaire closed the space between them, which tightened the ring of four around Caitrin. In the middle of their circle, the seer’s eyes were closed, her hands stretched toward the heavens.
Caitrin hummed an ancient melody, passed from one generation of Còig witches to the next. Then she stopped and all was quiet in the cave—so quiet that Elspeth could only hear the drumming of her own heart and Sorcha’s rapid breathing to her left.
“I see a handsome man,” Caitrin began softly. Her lilting voice echoed off the dark cavern walls.
“I’d like ta see one of those,” Sorcha giggled.
The murderous look Rhiannon shot the youngest witch prevented any furt
her levity from entering their circle.
“He bears the mark of the beast,” Caitrin continued as though she’d never been interrupted.
Chills shot down Elspeth’s spine, which had nothing to do with the loss of her plaid or the cool air in the cave. The mark of the beast. She’d heard those words her entire life.
“He will disrupt us. He will try ta take Elspeth from our circle.”
Suddenly Elspeth had three sets of eyes on her. It would have been four, but Caitrin’s were still closed as the vision played out in her mind.
“The beast canna be allowed ta break our coven. Disaster will fall if he succeeds.” Caitrin’s haunting blue eyes opened and she focused them on Elspeth.
Sucking in a surprised breath, Elspeth tried to snatch her hands back from Rhiannon and Sorcha, but their hold tightened. Her heart pounded faster and she felt certain she would faint.
Caitrin stepped forward and touched her fingers to Elspeth’s brow. “Do ye ken the man I speak of, El?”
A nervous laugh escaped Elspeth’s throat and she nodded. She had never thought he would actually come for her. After all, he’d abandoned her mother long before she was born. “My father,” she whispered.
Though Elspeth had never met her sire, she knew he wore the mark of the beast. So it must be him. Who else would try to take her from her coven?
Caitrin’s brow furrowed. “He felt younger than that.”
Elspeth shook her head. “I doona ken another man with the mark, Cait.”
Finally the seer nodded. “Very well. Ye must be diligent. He canna be allowed ta take ye from us. The future of the Còig depends upon it.”
Elspeth nodded. She’d never known Caitrin’s visions to be wrong, but in her twenty-one years, her father had never even contacted her. It didn’t seem likely he would suddenly show interest in her well-being. “I will be careful.”
At the same time in London…
Rain poured over the brim of Lord Benjamin Westfield’s beaver hat. He stepped out of the darkness and crossed the threshold of Canis House, the exclusive social club to which he belonged. He handed his drenched greatcoat and ruined hat to the awaiting footman and walked into the warm light of the drawing room.
Ben glanced around at the other members, searching the faces for his older brothers. They weren’t there. Thank God! He didn’t think he could put on a cheerful face tonight, and they would most certainly see through his dark mood.
