Mackenzie McKade

by Black Widow (lit)

A whimper pushed from her muzzle with the thought of her death. Yet Tammy knew she couldn’t live like this. She knew Roark and Marcellus would never let her go, even if it meant their life at her hands or by someone else’s because of her.

  A sharp cramp tore her feet from beneath her and she stumbled to the ground. She shook with its intensity. For a moment she thought of lying there, waiting for the light of day. She was tired and her paws hurt almost as much as her heart. Her chest heaved. She couldn’t find the energy to rise until she heard the howl of a lone wolf in the distance.

  Roark. He was calling her.

  Regret for what she would never experience or have nearly suffocated her. A family—someone to love her.

  Tammy thought of Roark and Marcellus and found the strength to push to her feet, now bruised and bleeding in the snow as she began to run. Time truly wasn’t her friend. She had no idea where she was going, only that she had to keep miles between Roark and her, allow the sun to crest the Four Peak Mountains that were just a shadow through the dying snowstorm.

  A stone sliced the bottom of her paw and she yelped in pain. Tuned to survival mode, she opened her muzzle to howl, barely catching herself. She couldn’t let Roark find her. Desperately, she continued onward.

  Several times Roark howled—calling to her. Each time spasms clenched her belly. The fur on her back ruffled in fast waves. Hunger clawed at her stomach. She needed to feed—she needed rest—she needed Roark.

  For miles she sprinted, pushing herself. The burst of energy died a quick death as she became engulfed in the screams of her body. Her legs melted from beneath her. The whimper that surfaced turned into a cry as her human form replaced that of the wolf.

  Curled in a ball, she rocked from side to side, stones and sticks beneath the snow stabbing her. A blazing fireball burned in her stomach releasing a flood of moisture between her naked thighs. Nipples taut with need ached, shooting more flames toward her belly.

  “Roark.” Breathless she called his name. In her tormented state she could smell his earthy scent replace that of pine permeating her nose, feel his warm arms cradling her.

  “You foolish woman,” Roark scolded, as the last of his fur dissolved, leaving him naked and vulnerable to the elements. “Why the hell did you run away?”

  “Roark.” Even as she snuggled closer to him, Tammy knew she had to leave him. The spasms were coming faster, more violent, as she twisted and jerked out of his arms. “Leave me. Now,” she groaned. Heat whipped through her like wildfire, hot and out of control. His rapid pulse did nothing more than feed her hunger.

  “I’ll never leave you.” Voice low and strained, he sounded so sincere. “We need to hurry. The sun will be rising soon. There’s a cave several miles back.”

  No. Tammy scrambled onto her hands and knees to avoid his outstretched hand. If she fed from him now she would kill him. Besides, it was almost dawn, all she needed was thirty more minutes. Already the glow of the rising sun was cresting the mountains.

  Frantically, she kicked at him. He dodged her feet, but that didn’t stop him from trying to reach her. “Get away. Please, Roark. Run,” she screamed. But it was already too late.

  A contraction clamped down hard and vicious. Her gasp turned into a purr. Her body undulated, letting the pain wash over her. His closeness—his smell—drove her over the edge of sanity.

  Tammy rolled to her back and arched as the temptress presented herself. She ran her hands down her hungry flesh, palmed the weight of her heavy breasts, as she pinched their peaks between her fingers.

  Fangs pushed through her gums. She stroked them seductively with her tongue as her eyelids fell half-mast. “J’ai besoin de vous,” she cooed, repeating mentally, “I need you.”

  Without pause, he went to lie beside her, and she turned onto her side to face him. His arms closed around her. “I know, baby. But first we need to leave here.”

  “No,” she insisted, curling her fingers around his semi-hard cock. It twitched against her palm, lengthening. She stroked him, up and down. Satisfaction touched her mouth, before he captured her in an urgent kiss.

  He tasted of male, of heat and hunger. She couldn’t get enough. Her body writhed against his, as she sucked his bottom lip between hers and bit. The sweet flavor of blood made her fingernails dig into his back pulling him closer.

  He tore his lips from hers. “Tammy. We have to go.” A hint of unease whispered in his voice.

  But she couldn’t stop—not now.

  She guided his cock between her splayed thighs and impaled herself on his hardness.

  “Oui…” Immediate gratification rushed through her like a cool breeze. The knots in her stomach released. Her hips thrust against his seeking more.

  In a quick move, he rolled her onto her back. “We have to hurry.” His eyes were dark with desire. His nostrils flared. He slammed his hips into her cradle, over and over. Fast and deep, he penetrated her. Even as anxiety furrowed his brows, he murmured, “Wet. So tight.”

  Her climax came swift and without mercy. She arched, bucking beneath him. He growled, pinning her to the ground by her shoulders as he quickened the pace. Pleasure and pain blurred as it tore at her insides. He swallowed her scream with a kiss that matched the savageness of his body driving between her legs. Roark came violently and in the process his canines pierced her tongue, blood filled her mouth. She trembled at the exquisite taste flowing down her throat. Her mouth watered. She needed to taste him.

  The smell of his skin so close clouded her senses. Tammy didn’t realize she had pierced his flesh until his essence trickled down her throat. His heart beat out a staccato against her chest. Still she continued to drink. Her fingernails scored his back, sinking into his flesh to mark him.

  “Tammy.” His voice was strangely hollow against the thudding of her heart. “Tammy,” he repeated weakly.

  Awareness struck.

  She froze.

  There was a faint flutter to his heart, not the strong rapid beat that existed only a moment ago. Her tongue swiped over her bite, closing the wound, as she wiggled out from beneath him and pulled him into her arms.

  Cradling him in her lap, she cried, “Roark. Oh God, I’m so sorry.” As she sobbed, she glimpse the rays of dawn shimmering over the mountain tops. Tammy didn’t care that in a moment, she would breathe her last breath. All she could think about was saving Roark.

  With the sharp end of her canine she tore open her wrist and pressed it to his lips. “Drink.”

  Nothing.

  She pushed with her mind to get him to follow her command—needing him to live. A cry of relief surfaced when she felt a tickle against her wrist. With each swallow the suction grew stronger.

  Her belly tightened. How much was enough? When she felt faint, she extracted her hand and closed the wound on her wrist with a stroke of her tongue.

  “Tammy?” His voice lacked vitality, but he was alive. She pressed her lips to his forehead.

  Night had faded. Tammy glanced down at Roark desperate to speak before it was too late. “I have something to say. I don’t know if I’ll say it right—”

  “The sun— Tammy, no…” He tried to rise, but his strength waned and he fell back into her lap.

  Emotion stole her breath, but she found her voice. “I love you.” The words rushed out. “I don’t know when it happened,” she gulped in air, filling her lungs too fast, “or why so soon. But I love you. Don’t ever forget that.”

  His fingers curled around her arms as if he wouldn’t let her go. With what was left of his strength he pulled her to him and held her tightly.

  The light of day immersed them. Seconds ticked by. Nothing happened. There was no bursting into flames. Absolutely nothing, except for the uneasy masculine chuckle that rose and grew in volume.

  Talk about an embarrassing moment. Tammy had just spilled her guts to the man and he was laughing.

  “Ahhh…baby. Judging by the pout on your face, you almost look disappointed in not becoming a human torch.” />
  She pulled away, whacking him on the chest. “It isn’t funny. I was scared shitless.”

  A mischievous grin curved his lips. “So you love me?”

  Crap! She did admit that. “I—” Yes. She felt a deep connection to him, but also Marcellus. The week had been a whirlwind of life shattering change. Logic told her it just wasn’t possible to love two men, especially in such a short period. “I thought I was dying.”

  His brows dipped. “Then you don’t love me?”

  Tammy sighed, feeling as if she held the weight of the world on her shoulders. “Roark, I’m so confused.” How could she be in love with him and Marcellus too?

  “Don’t be.” His face softened and he cupped her cheek. “Inherently, mates bond together. I knew I loved you the minute my beast touched yours. It’s nature taking control of our needs that our human side is too stubborn to admit.”

  She frowned. “But in this case nature really fucked up. I could have killed you.”

  “But you didn’t. Instead you saved me.” Roark brushed his lips lightly across hers. He was shivering so hard that their teeth clinked together. She brushed her palms briskly over his skin. He was so cold. Oddly, she wasn’t as fazed by the biting wind as he was. Thankfully, it had quit snowing. A new blanket of white covered the horizon as far as she could see.

  Tucking her hands beneath his arms, Tammy helped him to his feet. “We need to get you somewhere out of the cold.” Wait. If she could dissolve his clothing could she—

  Thinking warm thoughts, she imagined them clothed. A gust of wind stirred the snow, picking it up to surround them. The air shimmered. Wide-eyed, his shock was apparent, matching her own. In seconds, they were both covered head to toe in gloves, sweaters, fur-lined parkas, ski pants and snow boots.

  “Nice, but—” He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his wary eyes. “Our wolf forms are more appropriate for the return trip, plus it will restore our energy.”

  “Return?” Tammy’s voice pitched sharply. Her heart started to palpitate. “I can’t go back.” What was he thinking?

  He reached for her, but she dodged his grasp. “Baby, you have to go back. Prove your innocence.”

  “How? No one is going to believe me.”

  “Something wasn’t right about the scene. You disappeared before I could get to the bottom of it. By the way, how long have you known you could vanish like that?”

  “Believe me. I was as surprised as you were.”

  “Why did you run?” There was so much hurt in his eyes, she immediately felt ashamed. But what choice did she have?

  “No one would have believed me.”

  “I did.” Roark opened his arms and she flew into them.

  “How did I get so lucky to find you?”

  “It was destiny. Now get us out of these clothes and let’s go home.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  A search party met up with Tammy and Roark as they entered the boundaries of his land. Franc, Manny, Bryant, and Creighton were joined with several more of Roark’s guards, each wearing an expression of disapproval. Roark had heard their howls—their calls, but he had thought it better to not announce their arrival. He needed time to strategize. Even with the long trek home, not a single idea had come to him.

  The sun shining high above them glistened off the snow. The blinding reflection hurt his wind-burned eyes. His coat was crusted with snow. His legs ached. He was tired in both body and mind. Glancing at Tammy, he knew she felt no better. She moved slowly, her head bowed, her muzzle agape. She panted against the frosty air. He could smell her anxiety as his guards folded around them.

  “So?” Roark asked, using the telepathic link between them.

  “Stephen said the blow came from behind,” Franc supplied. “He thought Lonnie was at the town meeting, that he and the queen were alone. He was still unconscious when I found him.”

  “There were no signs of struggle?” Roark asked.

  “None,” Creighton, the long lanky sable wolf said. “Which is odd in itself.” He chanced a quick look in Tammy’s direction. Roark knew the rest of his guards were curious about their queen, especially one accused of the death of one of their own. “Lonnie died quickly. Her death staged to look like an attack.”

  Bryant, the only white wolf in the group, moved up beside him. “Do you believe her?” Roark’s guard didn’t even flinch when Tammy’s ears lay flat against her head. She bared her teeth at him and snarled.

  “Yes.” Roark didn’t hesitate. He tried to restrain his anger but a rumble vibrated in his throat. Bryant lowered his head and backed away. “Not only do I believe her, but the fact that Stephen had not been ravished is evidence that she is not at fault. New to her conversion, she wouldn’t have been able to cause such violence and control it enough to only wound Stephen.” Additionally, a wolf’s first kill was savage and unmerciful. Mutilating and devouring the kill would have been a normal reaction. His people knew this.

  “So what’s your plan?” Franc asked.

  Roark drew his ears erect. He raised his head. “To walk down the center of town.”

  “Bold. But do you think it wise?” Franc slowed his pace as if to give Roark an opportunity to rethink his decision.

  A gentle breeze ruffled the hair down Tammy’s back. “Listen to Franc. Perhaps we should enter from the back of your home.”

  Roark met her startled gaze. “We have nothing to hide.”

  “But she ran,” Bryant interjected, playing the devil’s advocate. The wolf was young, but he balanced the group by critically examining the facts and raising objections. Sometimes he was a little trying, but Roark knew he meant well.

  Creighton, who loped ahead of them to conduct reconnaissance, was quiet strength. He followed orders and felt strongly about the old ways. He preferred to remain behind when trips to the city were required. The chocolate-brown wolf pulled to a halt atop the hill. He held his head high, alert, as he scanned the countryside.

  Roark pulled his attention back to Bryant’s comment. “Running isn’t always a sign of guilt, but fear. What choice did your queen have? Our people have not embraced her, neither have Donne’s. If you were in her shoes what would you have done?”

  “Run,” Bryant relented.

  As they topped the mountain joining Creighton, Tammy pulled to an abrupt stop “Roark?” Her voice quivered. “What if you can’t get them to believe me?” She didn’t wait for his answer, before she continued. “I am what I am. I will fight with everything in my power to survive.”

  If she expected his disapproval, she was wrong. “I would expect no more or less from you. You are my queen. Strong—alpha. You were meant to rule beside me. Now raise your chin and let’s go.”

  Tammy did just that. She held her head high as they trotted down the hill and straight into town. Several people strolling down the street drew to an abrupt halt. From homes and store fronts doors opened and more people spilled out into the street. It wasn’t long before it looked like the entire town converged upon them.

  The mood of the crowd was eerily calm, like the quiet before the storm. No one stirred as Roark and his entourage continued to pad down the cobblestone street. The only movement was the shifting of eyes as condemnatory gazes followed them.

  Head held high, Tammy strolled regally by his side, but he sensed her tension growing, knew she dreaded even feared the confrontation with their people. He moved closer brushing her side, lending her strength. She leaned into him, presenting him with a half-smile.

  As they made their way further into town toward the large Town Hall building, the masses folded around them. Just before they reached the large Christmas tree decorated in silver ornaments and white lights, Layton emerged from the throng. “We demand justice.”

  “Justice?” One minute Roark stood before them a wolf—the next a man. His aplomb wavered slightly when a whisper of wind swept up his legs, caressing his body to clothe him from neck to toes in a thick flannel shirt, jeans, boots and a parka. There was a sin
gle gasp from all present as their stares fell on Tammy, knowing exactly where the magic had hailed from. As each of his guards released their hold on the wolf, she gifted them with clothing similar to his. If the moment hadn’t been so grave, he would have laughed at their shocked expressions.

  Tammy was the last to take human form. In a great show of strength and power, a flurry of snow rose, shielding her from all eyes. Pride squeezed his chest as she made the change smoothly, so that he didn’t hear a single muscle or tendon pop. When the snow fell to the ground again, Tammy stood donned in black—leather boots and a skintight bodysuit that showed off every curve and mound of her sensual body. Amazingly, he could almost see a curtain fall to mask her true feelings behind a wall of indifference. Power shimmered around her like heat waves rising from asphalt on a blistering summer day. The unmistakable show of sovereignty made the people in the front take a step backward.