Mackenzie McKade

by Black Widow (lit)

  Tamanen’s touch as she caressed her palm across his cheek was soothing. No one had ever been able to dash the past as quickly as she did when she nuzzled his neck.

  “I was bitter for many centuries, and then I found peace.” He turned into her arms and drew her close. “I enjoy the night, the power our kind possess. Let me show you what our world has to offer. Let me make you happy, Tamanen.”

  Marcellus looked so sincere. Gone was the casual amusement he usually exhibited. Instead his expression was heartfelt. Truthfully, Tammy was spellbound by what the three of them had just accomplished. Mentally she and Marcellus had seduced Roark. Of course, there had been a moment when Marcellus had disappeared and then reappeared. That in itself had been mind blowing. She had seen him down on his knees before Roark. Felt the connection ping-pong back and forth. Her body still tingled from the sense of power she had experienced. Adrenaline had surged through her veins. Lightheaded, almost tipsy, she felt drunk on the aftereffects. Yet there was a sorrow that remained. Like her, Marcellus had lost a part of his life he would never get back.

  As if he turned a page in his life and it was gone, his eyelids shuttered. Marcellus lay back across the bed, a sated expression curved his lips. It was a façade, his way of dealing with hurtful memories. Still, she sensed that he had found peace—even enjoyed his life. Would she learn to come to grips with what she was? Find the peace that Marcellus had? Even as the thoughts played through her mind, she already knew the answer. There was no turning back. Tammy would make the best of what she had become.

  “Mmmm…” he moaned, stretching to give her a good look at his impressive physique. Lean, powerful muscles tightened and released as he crawled across the silk sheets toward her. She’d never seen anything so sensual or arousing. When their lips met, his kiss was gentle and sweet, not reflecting the hunger that glimmered in his eyes. There was so much about this man she didn’t know. One thing she did know, he was insatiable. Amazingly, he was still in a semi-hard state, even after climaxing when he brought Roark to completion.

  Tammy had never dreamt seeing two men together would be so friggin’ hot. Two omnipotent leaders and they were all hers. Her life might have changed drastically, but there were parts of it that were beyond her wildest dreams. She went from lonely to not one but two men in her bed. With their help she could beat her rampant desires. Now she was eager to learn more about her situation.

  Jerking back the covers, she rolled off the bed. Her footsteps were silent as she crossed the room and opened the closet door. Rows and rows of clothing hung from hangers. There were so many outfits, so elegant and they appeared to be all her size.

  “What else can I do?” She ran her palm over a black gown. “Can I fly or disappear like I saw you do moments ago?”

  Rich laugher met her excitement. “We can discuss your talents later. Right now Lanier is confronting his pack. It would be wise for you to join him. If you feel up to it,” Marcellus added. She heard the bed moan beneath his weight as he rose.

  “Oh God, you’re right.” She scanned her choices, passing over the floor-length gown that would show off every curve and choosing instead a moderate mohair sweater and slacks.

  Marcellus strolled up behind her, removing the clothes from her hands to place them back on the rack. “The gown is more fitting for the occasion.” He pressed his naked body against hers, feathering kisses up her neck. “The truth is, the world is at your fingers, my pet. Mmmm…you taste good.”

  Tammy turned in his arms, capturing his mouth. He was a masterful kisser, teasing and caressing her lips with his tongue before slipping inside to devour her. When they parted, she asked, “What do you mean?”

  He brushed back her hair. “Our strength lies within our minds. You already know that your hearing and eyesight are acute. The world is at your fingertips. We control the elements.”

  Her brows tugged together. “How?”

  Warm palms drifted down her arms. “You have but to ask and it is yours.” He must have seen her confusion because the next thing he said was, “Close your eyes.” She let her eyelids fall. “Think about the gown hanging in the closet. Imagine the silk sliding over your firm breasts, teasing your nipples, gliding over your hips, before caressing your legs.”

  Everything about Marcellus was sensuous. Tammy let his words flow over her and she could actually feel the cool, light brush of material tickling her skin, stroking and hugging every curve until it settled around her feet.

  “No, Tamanen. Keep your eyes closed. What else would you wear with a gown like this?” he asked.

  “Diamonds,” she breathed on a sigh. “Lots of diamonds.” She’d never been able to afford any extravagance other than the small diamond-chip earrings she wore on special occasions. In seconds she could have sworn she felt something slither around her neck. It was the strangest feeling as something circled her wrist, and finger. Her earlobes drew heavy as she thought of the dangly brilliance she would wear if given the chance.

  “Open your eyes.” Marcellus stood before her, a big grin on his handsome face.

  The large solitaire sparkling on her finger was the first thing to catch her attention. It had to be an optical illusion. But the gown covering her body was real. With just a thought she was adorned in silk and jewels. Her heart stuttered and then swelled. She threw her arms around Marcellus’s neck and hugged him tightly.

  His laughter was warming. “Now I think we should join Lanier.”

  “Yes.” In her excitement she had forgotten that Roark needed her. She released Marcellus and headed for the door.

  “My pet?” She swung around to see a pair of black stilettos dangling from his finger. “Did you forget something?”

  Tammy glanced down at her bare feet and wiggled her toes. What a sight she would have been dashing into the room barefoot. After a second thought, she remembered that half the lycanthropes were barefooted. She just might fit in after all.

  Marcellus stood before her. His eyes were mesmerizing as he drifted to his knees. When he raised her foot and slipped on the heel she couldn’t help noticing how close this moment was to Cinderella, but with a sexy twist. Marcellus stroked up her calf, slipping beneath the dress to caress her thigh. Her heart fluttered when he moved up further, but to her dismay he smoothed his palm back down her leg and slipped on her other shoe. After securing the straps, he rose, offering her his arm. Tammy had never felt so special as she did walking out of the bedroom with Marcellus by her side.

  That special feeling didn’t last long as she climbed the stairs, realizing she would be facing a group of people who wanted her dead. A sinking feeling swamped her, the nearer they came to the great hall. Instinctively, her senses went on alert. The rumblings behind the closed door said Roark’s people weren’t any happier with her than Marcellus’s were.

  “I don’t know if I can do this,” Tammy admitted, jerking to a stop. “What should I say?” She raised her eyes to Marcellus praying he had the answer.

  He cupped her hand in his, bringing it to his lips. “You are the queen of all lycanthropes and vampires. You will find the right words to win them over.”

  The door opened without a touch and she knew that Marcellus had used his magic. With a little shove he pushed her into the room and shut the door behind her.

  Being thrown to the wolves took on a whole new meaning as she stood paralyzed.

  The crowd went deathly quiet except for their heartbeats, which Tammy heard pounding in her head. She tried to swallow, but the lump in her throat prohibited it. Her saving grace was when she locked gazes with Roark and he smiled. Male appreciation filled his eyes encouraging her to take one step, followed by another until she stood before him.

  Roark kissed her softly on the lips, whispering, “You’re beautiful.” Unexpected heat scorched her cheeks. When he pulled her to his side she went willingly. He raised his head, his gaze scanning across the fold. “Let me introduce to you your queen.”

  From somewhere in the crowd someone yelled,
“Lamia.”

  Roark went rigid. His face hardened with fury. The three guards she had met earlier moved in closer to protect them. Roark was about to speak when she held up a hand. She shrugged out of Roark’s grasp and took a step beyond the protection he provided.

  “I know what you think of me.” This time she swallowed past the lump. “I have become what I am. I will not apologize for something I had no control over. But you must trust me when I say that it is not my wish to harm any of you. The fates have brought us, your leader and that of the vampires, together. I look at it as destiny that we will become one. Stop fighting each other and learn how to live amongst one another.”

  The man who fought Roark in the courtyard rose. He frowned as his chair skidded across the marble floor. “You tried to kill Manny.” His words stung, but she couldn’t deny his accusation. In the chaos of the evening his name had escaped her, but she was determined not to let him shake her.

  “His name is Layton.” She drew her attention to Martin, the father of the lycanthrope who had attacked her and was now dead because of it. Emotion squeezed her heart that Martin, even in his sorrow, would assist her in this small way. Again, the sense that there was a tie between them rose, but she pushed it aside to address the man who threatened her with a scornful glare.

  She raised her chin, looking him squarely in the eyes. “It’s true that I grapple with my urges, but isn’t it also true that all female lycanthropes struggle during their heats, especially the young ones?” From the nods she knew it was true. Thank goodness she had remembered that tidbit of information Roark had revealed.

  “But you are a bloodsucker,” Layton snarled, his eyes flickering with menace.

  Her beast and the temptress lying inside her joined together, she felt their power unite making her stronger—more confident. It was amazing. She tingled from head to toes. “Which means that I am the link between the two races,” she announced, hoping that she portrayed pride and confidence as she squared her shoulders. “Vampires and lycanthropes have fought for too long. We hide from the human race attempting to live among them and keep our secrets safe. Would it not be easier if we worked together?”

  There was silence for longer than Tammy liked. Her aplomb wavered. She was just about to fade back into Roark’s shelter when he stepped forward.

  “What Tammy says is true. We have struggled with peace between our people. If I can share my mate with the leader of the vampires, then you can share this world we live in with them as well.”

  Layton shook his head. Defiance simmered in his eyes. There were several who exchanged expressions of doubt, some of disgust, while others seemed to ponder the idea. She held onto the thread of hope that these people would come to accept her.

  The door of the ballroom opened and Marcellus entered. He waved his people inside, and then strolled amongst the lycanthropes to come stand on Tammy’s other side. The power he elicited filled the room. She shivered under the knowledge of his strength.

  “Whether you accept it or not, Lanier and I are bound by the woman that stands between us. I swear my allegiance to her and in doing so to the leader of the lycanthropes.” Marcellus’s words brought a rumble from the vampires who lined the walls, but none of them stepped forward to express their objection, including Titan who pinned her with a withering glare.

  The back of Roark’s hand caressed her cheek. He raised her hand and kissed it softly. “I pledge my allegiance to my queen and in doing so to Marcellus Donne, the leader of the vampires.”

  A million butterflies were set loose in Tammy’s stomach. She attempted to speak, but emotion squeezed her throat. Tears misted her eyes, but she fought them back. It should have been a moment of joyous celebration, but the undercurrent in the room was hard to miss. She smelled their bitter resentment. Knew that what Marcellus and Roark offered was a threat to their way of life—the centuries of hate that had fed them. Even still she couldn’t help being moved by Marcellus’s and Roark’s words and the compassion in their eyes when they looked at her.

  Roark’s chest filled with pride. Tammy continued to surprise him. She stood before a roomful of people who feared and hated her and spoke of unity and friendship. Without hesitating, she countered every one of Layton’s objections. But Roark knew his cousin wouldn’t be swayed so easily. Even now as Tammy, Donne and he took their seats at a table, he noted Layton’s scornful expression. Roark had no doubt that he hadn’t heard the last from him.

  Donne leaned back in his chair catching Roark’s attention. “I think that went well.” The mischievous smile he always wore disappeared. “Which one of our people do you feel will revolt first?” he asked in all sincerity.

  Roark shrugged. The moment was a little awkward as he looked into the same eyes that only moments ago stared up at him as he was brought to orgasm. A tingling erupted in his nether region, forcing him to focus on Donne’s question and not the gleam that sparked in those haunting eyes. “Neither group appears too happy.” That was an understatement. “I still think that perhaps the mountains would be the best place for Tammy for now. Will you join us?” Why did his words have such a sexual connotation? Heat simmered up Roark’s neck and swept like a brushfire across his face. Fuck.

  Tammy glanced over her shoulder, looking from Donne to him. “It was beautiful. Nothing more needs to be said,” she stated telepathically, putting an end to the conversation at least for now. Without another word, she turned back around and continued her conversation with Martin.

  Regret flickered across Martin’s face. “I’m sorry for what my son has done.”

  Tammy reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. The smile she gifted him with was genuine. “I’ll admit that I’m not happy with the change, but Roark has explained to me that your son was not well.” Roark could sense the pheromones she released to comfort Martin. Several of the other males, lycanthrope and vampire alike, perceived them too. They moved restlessly in their seat or where they stood. Their eyes were on Tammy, but she didn’t act as if she realized it.

  “Yes. I am aware,” she admitted without looking at Donne or him. Tammy kept her gaze on Martin. “I must use everything in my arsenal to win over your people. Martin is hurting. He grieves for his loss. His shame at what his son has done to me is breaking my heart.”

  Martin was quiet for longer then was comfortable. “The legend—”

  “—is a myth,” Roark provided. “I don’t think our people knew enough about what to expect when werewolf and vampire crossed the line.”

  “Maybe so, son, but the events of this evening don’t bode well for your case.” Martin’s expression intensified. “You are my daughter, my blood runs in your veins, but I will not support the ruination of our clan.”

  Roark’s chin dipped, his eyelashes shadowing the rising fury. The rumble in his throat turned quickly into a threatening growl, drawing stares from people nearby. Donne moved closer to Tammy, ready to protect if necessary. Again power radiated off the vampire, which triggered everyone else’s attention.

  The room fell silent.

  Tammy removed her hand from Martin’s, pressing her back against her chair. She reached out for each of Donne’s and Roark’s hands. Her palms were clammy. Roark felt her pulse jump, but her expression didn’t change. “You have no reason to believe me. Only time will prove me trustworthy. All I ask for is a chance to learn your ways, become one of you.” She spoke confidently, even though Roark felt her hand tremble. “Will you give me that chance?” she asked Martin directly. Before he could answer, she placed her palms on the table and pushed to her feet. Her eyes went icy as she looked around the room. Her heart was beating loudly in Roark’s ears. “Will you give me the chance to prove myself worthy of your trust?”

  Donne and Roark rose to stand beside her. Manny, Stephen and Franc followed. Surprise rippled through Roark as Martin got to his feet. He was the last man Roark had expected to support her, not without proof that the legend wasn’t true.

  He moved around
the table to take her into his arms. “Yes.” His voice shook. “Yes,” he announced loud enough so everyone could hear. Emotion showed in his eyes and Tammy’s as well. Several lycanthropes rose, while a handful of vampires stepped forward. The majority hung back. Disappointment played across Tammy’s face.

  Donne leaned into her. “Tamanen, you can’t expect to win them all tonight. It will take time. Lanier and I will help.”