Arthur, Keri - Beneath a Rising Moon.txt

by Beneath a Rising Moon (lit)

  me.”

  She closed her eyes and shifted her stance. “Under

  her light, I offer you my body.”

  Desire and something else, something more ethereal,

  shimmered between them, warming the night. Warming

  her. His rigid heat slid deep inside, until it felt as if he

  was claiming every inch of her. He began to rock. It felt so

  good, so right, a moan escaped her lips.

  “Under the divine light of the moon,” he said, “I offer

  you my heart.”

  It felt like her own heart was snapping tight, ready to

  shatter. “Under her light, I offer you mine.”

  The sting in the air was becoming stronger. Sweat

  skated across her skin. Pretense, she told herself fiercely.

  Nothing more.

  His grip on her rump grew stronger, holding her steady

  as the tempo of his thrusts increased. “Under the divine

  light, I offer you my soul.”

  Deep down the tremors were beginning, spreading

  through her body like a wave. She gripped his shoulders,

  digging her nails into his flesh, fighting the sensations

  rippling through her, fearing the burning in the air. Fearing

  the fact she could not stop the words flowing from her

  lips.

  “By her light, I offer you mine.”

  He was thrusting deep and hard. The world seemed to

  be spinning, and every fiber of her being was tingling with

  magic. Burning with the need for release.

  “Then let our souls become one as our bodies have

  become one.”

  “Let the moon bless and rejoice in this union,” she

  somehow gasped.

  “Do you accept the gift of my seed?” he growled. “Do

  you accept the promises of the night and the moon?”

  “Yes,” she cried. “Yes.”

  He went rigid against her, the force of his release

  tearing her name from his throat. Heat seemed to explode

  around them, through them, and her climax came in a

  rush of power that stole her breath, stole all thought, and

  swept her into a world that was sheer, unadulterated bliss.

  For a long moment, neither of them moved. She rested

  her forehead on his chest, desperately trying to catch her

  breath, desperately hoping the ritual hadn’t worked. But

  the air still hummed, her skin still tingled, and he was

  still so very hard inside her.

  After a while, he lifted her chin, his lips seeking hers,

  his kiss a lingering taste of passion.

  “What the moon has joined, let no wolf break.” He

  brushed sweaty strands of hair from her forehead, then

  kissed her again. Sweetly. Gently. But it wasn’t his kiss

  that sent goose bumps fleeing across her skin. It was the

  caring in his dark eyes. The gentle, almost loving smile

  touching his lips. “May the moon bless this union and

  grant us life.”

  Energy seemed to flow through every pore of her being.

  For one moment, it felt as if the moon itself was blessing

  her. Blessing them. She fought the sting of more tears

  and closed her eyes. Thankfully, the moon couldn’t bless

  this union with life. Not when Duncan had been given the

  fertility control injection.

  “By the moon’s divine light, let us now celebrate this

  union.” Though the words were the last in the ritual, they

  were also what she wanted. All she wanted.

  All they did, through the remainder of the long night.

  By the end of which she truly knew what it felt like to be

  loved by a man like Duncan.

  But did she dare believe it?

  ***

  A distant ringing stirred Duncan from slumber, but it

  was a sound that stopped almost the minute he woke. He

  swore softly and looked around. The morning’s light peeked

  past the bedroom curtains, indicating dawn had come and

  gone. He hadn’t meant to sleep so long. Hadn’t meant to

  love Neva so long. Hadn’t meant to do a lot of things.

  But he regretted none of them.

  Especially not binding Neva to him heart and soul.

  He smiled and splayed his fingers across her belly,

  pressing her close against him. She was his, and there

  was nothing on this Earth that could separate them now.

  While it was supposed to have been nothing more than

  pretense, the minute he’d said the first words of the ritual

  and felt the stirrings of magic in the air, he’d known what

  was happening. And there was no way in hell he’d been

  about to stop—or let her stop. Neva was his, and the

  ceremony ensured that, from this point on, she could no

  more turn to another wolf than he could. It wasn’t playing

  fair, wasn’t giving her the choice, but in all honesty, he

  didn’t care. He’d spent more than half his life looking for

  his soul mate, and now that he’d found her, he wasn’t

  about to let her go. Wasn’t about to sit back and watch

  her walk into the arms of what her family might consider

  a “more suitable” mate.

  Because he very much suspected that was what she

  might do. Family was everything to a wolf, to Neva more

  than most, and this break with her parents was killing

  her. And while he was responsible for that, he had no

  intention of walking away to mend the rift. And the

  ceremony had given him the time he needed to convince

  Neva and her parents, that his intentions and his feelings

  were both honest and true.

  The ringing started again, soft but insistent. It seemed

  to be coming from downstairs...his cell phone, he realized.

  It was still in the pants he’d discarded in the living room.

  Neva stirred, and he brushed a kiss across her shoulder.

  “Sleep,” he said, using the power of the moon binding

  to make it an order. She’d probably fry his brains when

  she woke and realized he was still using that hold on her,

  but right now, he didn’t care. She needed the rest.

  She murmured something that sounded suspiciously

  like a curse, then drifted back to sleep. He kissed her

  again, this time on her cheek, then climbed out of bed

  and padded downstairs, finding his pants and pulling out

  the phone. “Hello?”

  “There’s been a fire at the hospital.”

  His father’s voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, and

  Duncan’s gut began to churn. “René?”

  “Is missing. Kane was found unconscious but alive in

  one of the stairwells. Looks like he’d been trying to stop

  the kidnappers.”

  “He’s okay?”

  “Nothing more than a bruised ego, and a mighty bump

  on the back of the head.”

  “I gather it was Betise and Iyona?”

  “Yes. Apparently Betise let him chase her into the

  stairwell, where Iyona jumped him.”

  Duncan took a deep breath and released it slowly.

  “What about Savannah and the other patients?” Neva

  would want to know her sister was okay, even though she

  would surely have known if something bad had happened.

  The link between the two of them was strong.

  “They’re fine. The fire was in the basement, used merely

&nb
sp; as a distraction.”

  “You’re heading up a hunting party?”

  “Tye’s on his way to join me and Kane. Savannah’s

  given permission for us to be included in the official party.”

  Probably because she knew they’d form a hunting

  party of their own if she didn’t. “Do you intend to join

  them?”

  “Yes. If only because if I find those two alone, I might

  be tempted to kill them. The Sinclair name has taken

  enough of a beating these past few weeks. We don’t need

  to add murder to our crimes.”

  Duncan glanced around for his sweater. “I’ll be there

  in five minutes.”

  “We’re meeting over at the rangers’ office.”

  “I’ll be there.”

  He hung up and quickly dressed, then bounded up

  the stairs. He knelt by the bed, kissing Neva’s lips gently,

  feeling the stirrings of passion in the sleepiness of her

  response.

  “Sleep well, my love. I’ll be back soon.” He brushed

  the hair from her eyes, kissed her nose, then left.

  The phone rang again as he was walking towards Main

  Street. He pressed the receiver and said, “Don’t tell me,

  the location’s changed.”

  “It certainly has.”

  It wasn’t his father on the phone. It was Betise. His

  knuckles went white with the force of his grip. “If you’ve

  hurt him, bitch, you’re both dead.”

  Betise tsked. “Such anger.”

  “Just tell me what you want.”

  “My mother is waiting in front of the hair salon for

  you. I’m not sure where you are, but you have two minutes

  to get there and get into the truck. We hear, see, or smell

  the rangers anywhere near, and René is a dead man.”

  “This is not going to achieve anything.”

  “Promises were made. Tonight they will be fulfilled.”

  The bitch was definitely crazy. He hit the “end” button,

  then dialed his father’s number as he ran. “Betise just

  called me,” he said, the minute his father answered. “She

  wants me in front of her hair salon, alone, within two

  minutes.”

  Zeke swore. Duncan didn’t give his father the chance

  to say anything else. “Follow the truck’s tracks,” he said.

  “And don’t get near enough for them to see or smell you,

  or René’s dead.”

  He hung up, sped around the corner, and saw not one

  waiting truck, but two. Out of the corner of his eye, he

  caught movement, and something sharp plunged into his

  arm. He swore and swung around, fist flying. Betise

  laughed and danced out of the way. He glanced down. A

  dart had been buried hilt deep into his forearm.

  “Do you really think I’d trust you to sit back like a

  good little wolf while we take you to René?” she taunted.

  “I may be well-used flesh, Duncan, but I’m not stupid.”

  He lunged for her. But it felt like he was moving

  through glue, and his feet were extraordinarily heavy.

  Betise laughed, capering just beyond his reach. The dart

  must have been drugged. He cursed her and lunged again,

  but suddenly found himself falling face first onto the

  pavement. Then the darkness rushed in, accompanied by

  harsh, almost maniacal laughter.

  Fifteen

  Neva woke to the nagging sensation that something

  was wrong. Frowning, she lay still in bed, listening to the

  silence haunting the cabin. Duncan wasn’t there. His smell

  was little more than a lingering tease of wood on the air,

  and there was no sound of footsteps or breathing. Maybe

  he’d joined the hunt for Betise and Iyona.

  She glanced toward the window. The light filtering past

  the curtains was soft, almost muted, as if the day had

  come and gone, and dusk was almost over. Surely she

  couldn’t have slept that long.

  Neva? Savannah’s thought was abrupt, and the feeling

  of wrongness increased.

  What’s happened? She swung out of bed, shivering a

  little as the cool air caressed her skin, and padded

  downstairs to find her clothes.

  Plenty. Savannah’s mind voice was grim. There was a

  fire at the hospital, which we’ve since discovered was little

  more than a cover for René Sinclair being snatched. Duncan

  then got a phone call stating he’d better meet Iyona in front

  of Betise’s hair salon if he wanted to see his brother alive.

  He wouldn’t have gone to such a meeting alone. Surely

  he wasn’t that stupid.

  He was given little choice and little time. But he did

  call his father. By the time we got there, the trucks were

  gone. We followed the tracks, but the damn snow came

  down again, and we lost them.

  Neva cursed the unseasonably late onslaught of snow,

  though no doubt the skiers still lingering in Ripple Creek

  were rejoicing. I’m coming to the hospital.

  I’m not there.

  What? Savannah—

  I’m fine. I’m being careful. But I’m a ranger, and I’ll be

  damned if I’ll lay on my back in bed while these bitches

  run around killing and kidnapping people.

  Neva moved across to the window and looked out. It

  was no longer snowing, and the moon was rich and yellow

  and almost full as it began its ascent in the darkening

  sky. She stared at it for a moment, remembering Betise’s

  words. Remembering her conviction, her certainty, that

  she and Duncan were soul mates. She’s going to perform

  the promising ritual.

  What?

  Betise believes she’s Duncan’s soul mate. She grabbed

  her coat, swept a set of keys off the coffee table and ran

  for the door.

  Impossible, when you— Savannah’s thought cut off

  abruptly. It doesn’t matter, does it?

  No. It’s the night of promising. The magic can be raised

  whether it’s your soul mate or not. God, how she wished

  their pretense last night had been real. While she might

  then have bound herself to a man who did not love her,

  she’d rather that than Duncan being fettered to a

  murdering fiend like Betise. Have you searched down

  Heather Creek Road?

  We did last night, after they’d attacked you, but we

  found nothing. And the truck tracks didn’t head that way

  tonight.

  Well, that’s where they are. Why she was certain, she

  couldn’t say. And if she was wrong, Duncan would pay.

  Where are you?

  Just coming out of Snowflake Lodge.

  I’ll meet you on Main. Be there in five minutes.

  Savanna was there in two, and she didn’t come alone.

  There was a convoy of four trucks in all. Neva climbed

  into the first one, relieved to see Ronan at the wheel. Her

  gaze swung left to meet Savannah’s. The main bandage

  had been removed from her sister’s face, but there were

  still dressings on her right cheek and over her left eye.

  “I’m a little surprised to see you in the back seat rather

  than the driver’s.”

  Her sister’s good eye twinkled brightly in the shadows.

  “I may be stubborn,
but I’m not a fool.” Her voice was dry.

  “Besides, I can’t see well enough to drive just yet.”

  “Mind you,” Ronan commented, a smile touching his

  gray eyes as he glanced at Neva, “it took the threat of a

  revolt to lose that foolhardiness she claims not to have.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” Neva slammed the door

  shut and buckled up her seat belt as Ronan took off. Lights

  swept through the rear window, briefly setting Ronan’s

  russet hair aflame as the trucks behind fell into line.

  “Probably because doing stupid things runs in our

  family,” Savannah replied.

  Neva met her sister’s gaze. “That it does.” Things like

  deciding to seduce the most dangerous man in the Sinclair

  pack, or pretending to perform the promising ritual. One

  had led her heart into danger, and the other had forced

  her to confront what she’d been trying to ignore—the fact

  that in a mere couple of days she’d fallen in love with

  Duncan.

  She pulled her gaze from Savannah’s and stared out

  the window. “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly.

  It does if you love him.

  I love Mom and Dad, too. I won’t give up my family for

  the sake of a man. No matter what I feel for him.

  Savannah didn’t say anything. There was nothing she

  could say, because they both knew the truth of the words.

  Ronan turned the truck onto Heather Creek Road, and

  they quickly left the lights of Ripple Creek behind them.

  Under the cold light of the rising moon, the land became

  a vast expanse of black and silver. It was stark, oddly

  beautiful, but also eerie.

  Neva stared out the window, her gaze roaming across

  the lustrous landscape without really seeing any of it. They

  were closing in. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but the

  sensation was similar to what she shared with her sister.

  It was as if somehow Duncan had become a part of her,

  as if he was reaching out for her, not only psychically but

  physically. She could feel him, not only in her mind, but

  on her body. Almost as if he were caressing her, trailing

  his fingers across her skin, sending little tingles of

  electricity through every nerve ending. She was attuned

  to him. Totally attuned. She briefly closed her eyes, too

  afraid to confront the reason why that might be. Because

  confronting it wouldn’t change the facts. Wouldn’t change