Immortal Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  Twin jets of warm water cascaded over her. Emily lifted her face to the refreshing spray, laughing and dodging away from Raphael as he stripped and joined her.

  Mischief overcame her. Emily stepped out of the spray, yanking the knob to cold. He yelped and ducked, giving her a mocking glare as he turned it back to warm. Then he leaned his head back, letting the water hit his face. Awe spilled through her. Magnificent, a rock-hard display of male, muscles rippling fluidly beneath tanned skin. Water cascaded down his chest, beading in the thick, dark hairs.

  The bar of natural glycerin soap went into his hands. He lathered and then began washing her, soaping her breasts, teasing her nipples in slow circular strokes, and washed her belly and legs, then he slid the soap between her legs. A low moan escaped her as he pressed his slippery fingers between her folds. Raphael wrapped his left arm around her waist and with his other hand, gently slipped a finger inside her.

  “Does this hurt?” he asked softly.

  “N-o,” she managed.

  He guided her to the bench and made her sit. As the water cascaded over them, he dropped to his knees, splayed her thighs wide open with his hands and put his mouth on her.

  The first touch of his warm tongue made her jerk backward in delighted shock. He slid his tongue between her folds in slow, steady strokes.

  Raphael swirled and licked her, absorbing her scent into him, marking her with the taste of arousal. When she threw her head back and cried out, her nails digging into his shoulders, he did not stop but stayed with her until the shudders ceased.

  Raphael looked up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He gave her a slow, sexy smile.

  They went to the bed, Emily curled into his arms. His hand stroked her head, relaxing her into closing her eyes. Suddenly his chest beneath her cheek vibrated. He was singing to her. A smile touched her mouth as she listened to the odd words in his language.

  He wrapped his arms around her, hugged her so tightly she gave a small squeak. “Rest, Em. Just rest. I’ll keep you warm, chere.”

  A delicious languor stole over her. She dozed off and dreamed about Maureen, picturing her as she collapsed on the hard floor. The scream died in her throat as Emily stared at her cousin, lying still, so deathly still….

  Helen had not been still when Emily touched her. She had jerked and writhed and then went motionless. It wasn’t the same.

  Her eyes flew open. Maybe she didn’t kill Mo after all, but had stunned her, as Raphael said. Emily writhed out of his embrace.

  He sat up. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to go to the farmhouse. I think maybe you’re right. Maybe Mo isn’t dead. I could have stunned her. It wasn’t the same as with Helen.”

  As she reached for her dress, Raphael caught her wrist. Stone-cold eyes met hers. “I’m certain she isn’t dead, chere. But you’re not going back to them. You’re staying here with me. They aren’t safe. There’s something your pack is hiding from you.”

  A pulse beat frantically in her neck. “What, Raphael? What would they hide? And why? They are my only family.”

  “They’re lying to you, Em. They’ve been lying all along.” His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist as if he wanted his touch to soothe her and prepare her for what he would say next. Raphael laced his fingers through hers and squeezed gently. “Urien wants you dead and out of the way. Your hands didn’t kill anyone. They only want you to believe that.”

  He heaved a great sigh, his expression grim. “This isn’t easy to hear, especially about your family, those who helped raise you, your own blood. But you need to know, chere. The birds no longer visit the farmhouse. The animals are too terrified to venture near your family. No woodland creatures would be that frightened by wolves. It would take something very dark to drive them away. When we were with your family at breakfast, I kept watching Urien’s face. He always lowered his gaze to me before when I confronted him. I kept watching, knowing I’d eventually catch him if he didn’t realize I was studying him. Finally he did it. He blinked.”

  Torment filled his dark eyes as he squeezed her hand again. “His eyes were pitch-black, without pupils, without irises. Your pack leader is a Morph.”

  Breath caught in her lungs. She couldn’t move, couldn’t feel, couldn’t think. If he had kissed and then slapped her, she couldn’t feel more shocked. “It’s not possible.”

  Raphael caught up both of her hands in his and brought them to his bare chest, close to his heart. “I’m sure of it, chere. I had suspicions, and I know now I’m right. Urien is Morph, and that’s why the butterfly Morph was on your land, and the same for the piranha that bit you in the river. There’s no need to reinforce safeguards because this is their land. Not only Urien, but I think the rest of your pack is as well, and they want you dead.”

  Emily pressed her eyes shut as if to block out his words. “You make no sense. If they wanted me dead, they’d kill me and absorb my dying energy to feed. Why would they call you here to do it for them?”

  “I don’t know. I need more answers, and I can’t get them here. But first, I have to make damn sure they can’t get to you.”

  Panic wedged in her chest. “But the prophecy…I killed my father?”

  Her eyes flew open to regard his steady gaze. “Did you? Or was it a ruse by them to make you think you killed him? And your aunt Helen?”

  Believing him meant abandoning everything she’d known her entire life. Even abandonment by her pack hadn’t cut the ties. Pain sliced through her as if Raphael had cut her slowly with his Scian.

  “They’re my blood. They can’t be Morph.” Caught between her mate and the family who raised her, she fisted her hands. “I won’t believe you. Why should I? Maybe you’re just trying to trick me.”

  Anger shadowed his eyes. “Emily, stop it. I’m not lying and have no reason to trick you.”

  “And if you don’t execute me by midnight of the first night of the full moon, you sacrifice your own brother’s life to my family. Your own blood. It’s a good enough reason to me.”

  Bounding out of bed, she stooped and snatched up her dress, buttoning it rapidly as her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

  When he caught her arm, fury snapped inside her. Emily whirled and removed his hand. “Leave me be. I need to go out and think.”

  “I’ll go with you. It’s too dangerous out there.”

  “I need to be away from you for a while, Raphael. Do you really think telling me my family is the enemy is something I’ll just digest, agree with and go off with you as if you are my savior?”

  “You said you trusted me.”

  “Maybe I was wrong.” Emily blew out a frustrated breath. “Maybe I can’t trust anyone anymore.”

  His mouth worked violently as if he struggled for words. Finally he jammed a hand through his long hair. “Emily, please. What’s between us can’t be broken. I’m your mate, and I want what’s best for you. This connection between us, it’s emotional and not merely physical. Trust me, not them. I won’t deny you.”

  Caught in a lethal tug-of-war between her draicaron and her family, she shook her head. “Right now I can’t be certain of anything. Least of all your feelings for me, the one you’re foresworn to execute to save your own blood.”

  She left him in the cabin, his low, frustrated growl floating after her.

  Chapter 12

  R aphael shoved a hand through his hair again. The mighty Kallan, toppled from his pedestal by his feelings for his mate.

  A mate who still disbelieved him. He closed his eyes, reaching out to her, but she’d shut him off as if slamming a door. They had made love and he’d fiercely claimed her in the bonds of the flesh. He’d marked her with his body, took her innocence and every primitive instinct raged inside him to chase her down, tumble her to the ground and bury himself deep inside once more.

  Making love to her over and over, until she finally surrendered everything to him and would run no longer. Yet she reacted violently to his observations about her family.


  All his suspicions about Urien and the pack were on target. He knew he was right. Why did she still embrace them and not him? Even after he’d tenderly claimed her body, she still danced away from him emotionally.

  He knew how difficult it was to distance yourself from the pack and stand out. It had taken him years and discipline to achieve it alone. If only Emily would reach out to him, dare to believe he told the truth.

  The truth was a hard pill to swallow.

  Outside, he followed her scent, his senses tuned to track her. Emily’s scent swam in his nostrils, strong, feminine and warm. True, she was angry and didn’t want him around. Tough, he thought grimly. I’m sticking to you like a damn mosquito.

  As he entered the meadow where the abandoned farmhouse sat, her scent grew stronger and alarm spilled through him. Raphael frowned. Why would she come here?

  He didn’t like it. A veil of darkness shrouded the farmhouse. Even if Emily hadn’t told him her father had died here, his Draicon senses warned that bad things happened here. A slight stench of evil draped the area.

  The scent trailed off. Lifting his head, he saw a female in the near distance. Red hair, spilling past her waist, delicate skin and a cornflower-blue dress. She was barefoot. Emily. Raphael heaved a deep sigh. Her wolf nature intruded on common sense. Because she hadn’t shifted in over a year, her inner animal manifested itself in human form, wanting to be free.

  But the human form wasn’t fashioned for cold weather. He held out his hand, called in his most cajoling tone.

  “Emily, come back. Let’s talk. Or at least let me take you back to the cottage and put on warm clothing.”

  She raced into the farmhouse, fleeing from him.

  The building was dangerous, rotting boards underfoot. Raphael cursed in Cajun French as he bolted toward the back door. Fear rippled through him. He, who feared nothing, now worried about his draicara, lost inside this crumbling maze.

  Inside, he called out for her. Nothing, but he heard a faint cry coming from an opened door.

  Raphael’s heart squeezed at the pitiful sound, filled with pain and sorrow. He stopped, inhaled the air, and picked up her scent.

  The door opened to a dark staircase. Raphael called out again. “Emily, chere, what happened? Are you injured? Please, talk to me.”

  A faint female voice called back. “My ankle, it hurts.”

  Caution warred with the instinct to race downstairs and aid her. He dragged in another lungful of air, catching her scent. Raphael broke off a piece of railing, ignited it with his powers and used it as a torch as he picked his way down the steps.

  Sweeping the torch over the basement, he saw nothing, but her scent was stronger down here. “Em?”

  A low, evil chuckle answered. Even as he turned to fight, he knew.

  The clink of metal snapped over his right wrist. Silver. He could not shift. Raphael dropped the torch, whirled and kicked and heard a cry of pain. A heavy, metallic net fell over his head, draped his body. He staggered back. Weakened by the silver, he snarled and lashed out, fighting with all his strength. The heavy blow to his head sent a gray fog swimming through his mind. He struggled against it.

  The last thing he saw in the torch’s dim light was Emily’s pack, standing in a circle around him, silently waiting for him like zombies from the electronic games he liked to play with Gabe.

  Waiting to feast on him.

  Raphael woke up to the grim knowledge that he was toast.

  Blood streamed down his temples as he raised his head. He gave an ineffectual tug at the heavy silver manacles around his wrists and ankles, the length of chain secured to a ring on the wall.

  All his suspicions about her pack were right. Too late now.

  The Burke pack had stripped off his clothing, leaving him naked, and tied him up like a dog. They’d struck his head, then touched their fingers to the wound on his scalp and tasted his blood.

  The thick stench of rotting evil filled the air, making him gag.

  “You’re a mixed-breed, a mongrel, Kallan. Had you been like Emily, a pureblood, filled with light instead of darkness, we could not touch you. Your blood would kill us, as Emily’s can, instead of sustaining us.”

  That’s why the piranha died, he realized. “Her blood killed your clones in the river,” Raphael snapped.

  Urien stepped closer, a contemptuous sneer touching his mouth. “We sent the clones after you, but they struck the wrong target and died. Now with your blood and the darkness inside you, we have the source of immortality. We shall live forever, with you as our nourishment.”

  His mouth went dry, every cell inside him screaming in denial as he watched them.

  “You never wanted Emily dead,” he realized, springing at them. Chains restrained him.

  Bridget laughed. “It was a ruse. We tricked you into coming here to feed on you. There is something in the prophecies about Emily dying to save the race. Helen warned me of it, but I paid no attention.” Her eyes narrowed. “Emily is an abomination. When her father told me what gift Aibelle had bestowed on her, the power of life, I knew we could not have such a powerful being amongst us. I killed Liam, Emily’s father, to condemn Emily. She is so gentle-hearted, it was easy to convince her that the goddess had cursed her. I killed my own brother and gained a power far beyond yours. I told Urien, and those of us who protested, like Helen, who wanted Emily spared, died at our hands.”

  Sickening disgust raced through him. “You all became Morph because you feared Emily. How could you violate the sanctity of life?”

  Urien pounded a fist against the wall, making the plaster crumble. “How could the goddess make her more powerful than us! She damned us and our existence. You are Kallan, but not pack—you have no family. You know this—a Draicon wielding a greater power than the Alpha cannot remain with pack. She gave us no choice. We had to do it to even the balance.”

  “You damned yourselves. All of you.” Grief for Emily twined with fury. What a waste, her entire family.

  Bridget eyed him. “We’ve had to be discreet and hide ourselves, foraging to feed in the mountains off other Draicon and in cities on stray, homeless humans who wouldn’t be missed. Our energy levels need a greater source of power. It’s time now, Kallan.”

  Cold dread gathered in him as he watched them, their mouths salivating, their eyes growing to pitless pools of blackness. The entire pack suddenly shifted into vampire bats. Cold, dank air stirred with the beating of their wings. Fear raced up his spine as they flew at him. He waved his hands, trying to beat them off, but they dodged the blows. Raphael ran into the corner, protecting his back and snarling as he grabbed one and squeezed his fist. The bat screeched and died, but they were cloning themselves now, hundreds of bats, their wings beating the air, rushing at him.

  They flew at the exposed flesh of his legs, his chest, torso and arms, tore his skin with sharp incisors. Strength fled him as the bats sucked on the blood flowing from the small wounds. One bat sank fangs into his jugular. Pain burned through him. He fought and struck at them, but they kept coming.

  Roaring, he rattled the chains, but the movements only scraped his wrists raw. They sucked his blood until he felt drained. Then the bats retreated and shifted back.

  Severely weakened, Raphael staggered back, not able to make his legs stand. He slid downward against the wall, feeling the burning in the dozens of cuts on his raw skin. Blood dripped onto the basement floor. His immortal blood.

  One of the Burkes shifted into a cockroach, scuttled over to the crimson puddle and lapped it. Raphael dashed the hair out of his eyes and tried to stamp on it. It scurried back to the safety of the pack, shifted into human form.

  Smirking at Raphael, the male slowly licked his lips.

  They were feeding off his blood. Becoming immortal. He calmed his fury, willed his emotions into submission. Reacting would accomplish nothing. He needed to think, figure out a plan to destroy them.

  Once they ingested enough of his blood, the Burke Morphs would becom
e immortal. They could not be killed. The consequences for their race, and the innocent humans they would terrorize, were too terrible to bear.

  Silver weakened him and subdued his powers, but the blood loss drained him physically. He still had enough strength to fight them one-on-one.

  Keeping his thoughts guarded, he sank to the ground, pretending defeat. Inside, his brain was racing over a plan. He searched out for Emily, touched her thoughts. She was in the forest, but she sensed he was endangered. Raphael sent a soothing message to her, blocking her from seeing his pain. She must be kept safe. All his protective instincts rose to the surface.

  “You’re reaching out to Emily, your draicara,” Urien noted.

  He didn’t look up, but he heard the sneer in the leader’s voice.

  “We know she’s yours. You can’t hide the fact from us. Now that we’ve had a little taste of your blood, we can sense who you truly are. What you are to Emily. It’s programmed into your DNA. We are you, Kallan.”

  You will never be me. They could not know his thoughts, his mind. Raphael kept silent.

  “This is pointless, Urien,” Bridget said sharply. “We only need his blood, and to keep him chained here as our energy source. Nothing more.”

  “Oh, but there is so much more,” Urien said softly. “He’s very clever. I sense he’s already working out a way to escape. And it’s not enough to take his blood. I need to know what he’s thinking. Put on the protective gloves.”

  Raphael backed to the corner and snarled as they came at him. They threw the netting of pure silver over his lower body, their gloved hands protected from the metal’s effects. Ten of them held him down, forced him to lie on his side, his left side exposed. He writhed and fought but was too weakened. He felt a hand almost tenderly brush back the hair from his face and expose his ear.

  He looked up to see Maureen, the one Emily thought she had killed, suddenly vanish. Urien held out his hand and bent down. Raphael could see nothing in the male’s palm.