by Bonnie Vanak
Maggie had turned into what he himself had become. An indifferent killing machine.
Never again.
Nicolas guided her over to the bed and gave her a gentle push. She lay on her stomach like a wax doll. He shed his clothing and looked around the room uncertainly.
On the oak dresser sat a bottle of cinnamon-flavored massage oil. Nicolas grabbed it and straddled Maggie’s back legs. He squirted oil into his palms and rubbed them together. The sharp scent of spice filled the air.
She did not move.
Very slowly, he ran his palms up the curve of her spine, working in the oil, murmuring to her in low, reassuring tones. He praised her beauty, her gentle compassion in healing others, reminding her of the Maggie she had been. Erasing the ugliness of the violence she’d inflicted. Strong fingers that could crush a man’s windpipe were extraordinarily gentle as he kneaded out the knots in her tensed muscles.
Beneath him she stirred slightly.
He flipped up the bottle’s cap and drizzled oil onto her rounded bottom. Droplets slid into the delicious crevice of her ass. Maggie undulated her hips and whimpered.
Good. But he wanted more.
With one finger, he traced the droplet’s journey, very gently working the oil into her bottom. Now she openly moaned with pleasure. Nicolas skimmed a finger down into her feminine cleft and slid it back and forth.
Up, down. He stroked, culling her own moisture, pleased at her response. He breathed in her sexual energy and returned it to her, feeding her his own raw hunger of her. Nicolas slipped the finger deep inside her sheath.
Maggie’s bottom arched upward in a nameless, ancient feminine plea.
He withdrew, gently turned her over and worked the oil into her front. His fingers flicked over her taut nipples. Nicolas watched with pleasure as they grew hard as tiny pearls. His groin felt heavy and his body hammered for release, but he ignored his own need.
This was for her. Maggie came first.
Unable to resist the temptation of those rosy little pearls, he lowered his mouth to one. Nicolas flicked his tongue over it, then suckled her.
Now Maggie wriggled beneath him, cradling his dark head to her chest. Her legs spilled open as her hips pumped upward.
Still not enough. He wanted her mindless with pleasure, begging for it, oblivious to everything but him. Make her forget. His mouth left her breast and showered hot kisses down her belly, licking and nibbling her satiny skin.
Opening her legs wide, he put his head between them and tasted her arousal.
Maggie screamed as his tongue flicked over her, swirling as if she were a hot cinnamon Maggie treat. Over and over he caressed her, his hands pressing her thighs wide open for him. he breathed in the erotic pleasure she felt, and felt her tense as her orgasm approached.
Nicolas gave another long lick. She cried out his name and her body jerked off the bed. Iridescent sparks burst into the air.
Pure masculine satisfaction filled him as Nicolas watched her fall back onto the mattress, her body quivering. She lay there with a look of languid pleasure. Smoky passion drenched her deep blue eyes as she opened her arms.
“Nicolas, I need you,” she whispered.
He covered her, thrust hard and fast and she came again. Only then did he allow the shuddering tension to explode. Nicolas threw back his head and cried out her name as his big body shook.
Panting, he dropped onto her, his hot breath coming back as he lay facedown in the pillow. Maggie’s thighs trembled against his as she gently stroked his sweat-slicked back.
Nicolas rolled off, taking her with him. She pillowed her head on his dampened shoulder. Something warm and wet trickled down his arm.
She was crying. His heart turned over, even though he knew the emotional release was necessary.
He never wanted to be the one to make her weep. Nicolas buried his face into her soft curls and spoke.
“Maggie, sweetheart, you don’t have to kill anymore. I promise you, to my last dying breath, I won’t force you to do it and I’ll make damn sure no one else forces you to as well.” He dropped a gentle kiss atop her forehead. “You’re extraordinary, my special, wonderful Maggie, and I wouldn’t change a thing about you.”
“I can’t do it again, Nicolas.” Her muffled sob against him stung like a dozen knife wounds. His grip about her tightened, as if he could ward off all the demons chasing her.
“I did it before and I will not do it again.” Tears dripping onto his shoulder like warm raindrops.
“It was me, Nicolas.” Maggie wiped her cheeks. “When I was twelve, I was walking back to our car with my parents. They jumped at us from nowhere. My parents pushed me aside to protect me, screamed for me to run. I couldn’t move. I watched them fight them, these creatures, they kept shifting and shifting. There were too many…five of them. They killed my parents. Then they turned to me and laughed….”
“You were only a child,” he said softly, stroking her hair.
“I ran to my father and tried healing him, it had worked for a few animals I found on the roadside hit by cars. But I couldn’t do it. I looked up at these things, and I…”
She took in a shuddering breath. “All this rage and anger and grief rose up. I didn’t even think. I tore off my clothes and I changed into a wolf. I attacked them. I killed two before they could shift, and then the three others, they attacked, but as they wounded me, my wounds just healed. I just kept striking and striking at them until they were dead. And then I shifted back. There was so much blood, so much…”
“And you saw what you had done. You killed five adult Morphs.”
“I blocked it out. I changed back into my clothing and ran. The police found me wandering the street a few blocks away, crying and crying.”
“There was nothing wrong with what you did,” he insisted. “You changed, Maggie and the trauma of your first shift, watching your parents die, and the attack made you bury everything inside. You defended your family, Maggie. What you did was right and good.”
“It’s who I am, but more than that, I’m a healer, Nicolas,” she said slowly. “I can’t be both a killer and a healer. I don’t want to kill.”
He lay in bed a long time, his arm draped about her as Maggie slept. His thoughts chased each other like a dog chasing its tail. Maggie could not hunt anymore. She deserved to retain her gentle, healing nature. Before his eyes, she was changing. And what of him? What if in trying to suppress any softness, his dangerous edge came out?
The darkness swirled inside him. Baylor insisted he was a caged beast clawing for freedom. He belonged with the Morphs. One day, he would destroy members of his own pack, Baylor always warned.
Nicolas turned to Maggie. His heart ached. What if he accidentally unleashed his darkness on his mate?
Maybe it was best if he left before any such thing happened. Though mated and bonded, they could separate. Eventually, Maggie would forget him if he left. The months on his own had taught Nicolas strength. He could handle the loneliness if it meant keeping her safe from the beast craving to claw free. She could seek another mate.
The thought pierced him like one of his daggers.
In his arms, Maggie stirred. She snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. Nicolas kissed her forehead. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered, burying his head into her hair. “But I don’t want to hurt you, either, caira. I can’t bear it.”
After Maggie destroyed the Morph leader, and that particular threat was gone, he should leave the pack. Leave her, before he hurt her.
It made sense. It was logical, as Maggie herself was logical. But even as his mind assured him he had made the right decision, the treacherous tear slipping out of the corner of his eye fiercely denied it.
———
The pack males attacked him en masse the next morning.
“Getting domesticated, Nicolas? We noticed you haven’t been hunting. Maybe you’ve lost your touch and don’t like killing Morphs. Makes us wonder where your loyalty lies
.”
At Baylor’s sneer, Nicolas went still at the counter. He’d been making a casserole with salsa, cheddar cheese, potatoes and scrambled eggs for Maggie. She still hadn’t accustomed herself to eating raw meat yet.
“I’m not soft on anything,” he replied, giving the mixture another stir.
“You were dangerous before,” Baylor said softly, advancing toward him. “Now you’re a double threat. You have her healing abilities. If you turn on us, you can wipe out our people. You’ll be a Morph with the power to heal yourself and your kind. We won’t be able to kill you. Maybe we should kill you now. Eliminate the threat.”
Other males muttered uneasily.
Anguish speared him. “I’d never turn on the pack.”
“Then prove it. Damian’s accepted you back as our beta. But I won’t accept you and neither will the rest until you bring us proof you’re pack again. Bring us back evidence you killed Kane.”
His stomach gave a sickening twist. Nicolas dropped the wooden spoon onto the counter and turned. So it comes to this. I knew I couldn’t avoid it forever. “It’s not my destiny to kill the Morph leader,” he said, sweat trickling down his back. “It’s Maggie’s.”
“Making your mate kill for you? You’re weak, Nicolas. Weak Draicon are most likely to turn Morph. You don’t deserve to come back to us.” Baylor’s smile didn’t meet his eyes. “You don’t deserve Maggie, either. She’s got courage, unlike you. I think I’ll claim her for myself.”
Jealous rage roared through him. Nicolas growled and clenched his fists. “We’re mated. Are you challenging me for her?”
“A challenge? You couldn’t survive one. Face it, Nicolas, you’re too soft. She needs a real male in bed. All you know how to do is cook. Go back to the Morphs where you belong, traitor. Maybe you can cook for them.”
Nicolas snarled and lunged for Baylor. Other males leapt back in startled gasps. He ignored them.
Baylor’s punch landed square in his solar plexus. Too enraged, driven by jealousy and adrenaline, Nicolas grimly fought back. Over and over he thrashed at the younger male, the red haze in his mind urging on. Then a familiar female voice reached out and yanked him out.
“Nicolas, stop it, stop it!” Maggie pulled at his shirt. Snarling he turned to her, then stopped. Stricken, he stared at his mate in horror.
“I almost hit you,” he whispered in shock. “Maggie, what’s happening? What if I hurt you?”
———
Maggie couldn’t bear to see what they were doing to him. Tears blurred her eyes. The pack only saw Nicolas as their warrior, a fighter who killed. They didn’t know his tenderness, his affection and the deep wells of courage and loyalty he had.
All they saw was a bloodied killer.
She knew he was so much more.
“You could never hurt me,” she told him.
She reached up and touched his face. He flinched. Nicolas turned his head to see Baylor on the kitchen floor. One eye had swollen purple. Blood streamed down his temples.
“Nicolas, oh…” Maggie slid her arms around his waist. She looked up at the pack males assisting Baylor to his feet. A protective snarl lifted the corner of her mouth.
“Get him out of here and leave us alone.”
They filed out of the kitchen, Baylor sagging between two for support. Maggie turned back to Nicolas. “Nicolas, you don’t have to prove anything to them. Violence isn’t the answer.”
“It’s the only answer. You don’t understand, Maggie. The only way I can earn their respect is through fighting.”
He pulled away, his dark eyes haunted. “You don’t understand. They’re always waiting to test me, watching for any sign of weakness, that I’ll slip.”
“Give yourself a rest, Nicolas. Haven’t you done enough for the pack all these years? You deserve a chance at peace more than any other male. You’re their family as much as Baylor is. Why do they always challenge you?”
“There never will be any peace for me, Maggie. They challenge me because they’re afraid I’ll turn on them one day. And maybe I will. Because they’re not really my true family. I wasn’t born into this pack, Maggie. I have no relatives here. But one of my close relatives is the enemy they hate the most. The enemy the pack needs you to kill. They don’t realize I can’t.”
Strain etched his features, and tension coiled his powerful body as if he were ready to leap forward in battle. The true battle hadn’t been waged with the Morphs, she slowly realized. It warred within him, just as she fought the rage her wolf demonstrated when her parents were killed.
A terrible suspicion crested as he turned away. Nicolas braced both hands on the countertop, avoiding her gaze.
“The Morph leader, Kane. He isn’t merely my enemy. He’s my real family, the uncle who raised me. Baylor and the others want me to kill him to prove my loyalty, but the day I kill Kane is the day I turn into a Morph, too.”
Chapter 15
Maggie stepped back with a look of horrified shock. Nicolas rubbed the back of his neck. Weary resignation settled over him. So it came to this. He’d tell her and if she rejected him, at least she knew the truth. He strode to the kitchen doors, quietly closed them.
“Sit. It’s a long story, and not a pretty one.”
The backs of her legs connected to the chair he pulled out. Maggie gripped the chair’s armrest. Deeply ashamed, and hiding his thoughts, Nicolas did not look at her.
“My parents and Kane lived with another Draicon pack in Montana when I was only twelve. Back then there were Draicon packs all over the United States. Now there are only a few of us. My parents and Kane were tired of being low in rank. They banded together and killed my grandfather, the pack leader, and became Morph and formed their own pack. They took me with them to live, assuming I’d join them when I grew older. We roamed the northwest as they destroyed mortals, Draicons, every living thing, a killing machine mowing over life. I saw their destructive evil. But it wasn’t all death. Kane tempted me with what he knew I craved most—the power of shape-shifting. He showed me how he could take to the air as an eagle, or even frisk in river waters as an otter. I wanted that power. Badly.”
She pushed back her chair and stood as if to go to him. Nicolas held out a hand like a traffic policeman. He couldn’t bear her pity now. He’d shatter like glass.
“Stop it, Maggie. Sit down.”
She sat.
“What did you do?” she asked in a normal tone.
“I was seventeen, Maggie. Filled with rage and pain and confusion. I wanted to belong, but detested the evil they wrought. I ran off.”
“You were a lone wolf, so to speak.”
He gave her a wry smile. “On my own, afraid to seek out others of my kind. I began killing Morphs in my journeys, ones I didn’t know. Then one day I saved a Draicon from a Morph attack. In return, he invited me to join his pack and become his beta. Damian lived in Colorado then, but was taking the pack south to New Mexico where things were quieter. In exchange for the position, I taught the others everything I knew about their enemies. How to kill them by stabbing them through the heart. Where they roamed, how they acted. All their weaknesses. But some males never quite trusted me. I always had to prove my loyalties to show I wouldn’t turn against them.”
“The tattoo, it’s their mark, isn’t it? That’s why you didn’t want me to see it.”
“Kane marked me when I experienced my first change into a wolf as Draicon. He knew I always longed to soar like an eagle. So he made the mark on me so I’d always remember the freedom they have to fly. But the eagle’s talons drip blood, the price paid for turning Morph. When the longing rises in me, it burns. It was my uncle’s way of tempting me to turn.”
Emotion clogged his throat, making it difficult to speak. He stared at grains of sugar dusting the countertop. Someone had forgotten to clean up after themselves.
“So there you have it. The pack doesn’t know Kane is my uncle. Only Damian does. But they fear I’ll turn into a Morph because I lived amo
ng them. Now you know what I am. I’m a walking time bomb, according to Baylor. I’m a great warrior, according to Damian. And I’m a double-edged sword, according to others.”
“And what do you see yourself as?”
Her question threw him off. Nicolas raised his head.
“I don’t know,” he said honestly. “For so long I’ve seen myself in their eyes that I don’t know who I am anymore.”
She stood and went to him. Her palm slid over his in a light caress. “I know who you are, Nicolas. You’re a courageous, loyal friend to Damian. You have immense inner strength to resist the evil you lived among for all those years. You’re my mate, and I’m proud you chose me. I’d want no one else.”
Maggie paused and slid her fingers over his hand. “I love you, Nicolas. I love you for who you are, not the image of what you want others to see. I always sensed you had this inner struggle going on, and that’s why you withheld yourself when we achieved the mating lock. I wish you’d open yourself up fully to me. Share everything, Nicolas. There’s nothing you can say or do that would make me walk away from you as they would.”
He said nothing, relishing her soft caress. Maggie believed in him and trusted him. Maybe it was about time he did the same.
At what price? What if he turned on her as everyone thought he’d eventually turn? He couldn’t bear to hurt his draicara.
Nicolas thrust her hand away. “Leave me alone,” he snapped. “You think you know me but you really don’t. You have no idea what I could do, Maggie. I mated with you not because I wanted to, but I was ordered by Damian. Mate with you and bring you back here. Those were my orders and like a good soldier, I followed them. I’ve fulfilled my duties to the pack. So back off and go tinker with your microscope. That’s what matters most to you.”
Hurt flashed in her sea-blue eyes. He winced inwardly, knowing he’d placed it there.
“No, Nicolas. What matters most to me now is you. I just wish you could read that inside me as well as you read everything else.”
Maggie turned and left.
———
