Blood Vow (Blood Moon Rising)

by Tabke, Karin

  “Yes, no, maybe.”

  She rose up on her elbows and looked at him. He looked so sexy with his messy hair and kissed-swollen lips. “Tell me.”

  He smiled and closed his eyes and ran his fingers along her shoulder. “Yes, because I’m selfish and want you all to myself. Yes, because sharing you feels wrong to me on every level. Yes, because it could damage my relationship with my pack. And yes, because it’s hard and confusing and I don’t know how to do this.”

  He opened his eyes and held her soft gaze. “I understand all of that, Rafa. And if it’s any consolation, I’m confused and unsure how to proceed as well. I just listen to my instincts and go with them.”

  He nodded. “That’s the part of me that has no regrets. My gut tells me this is right for the three of us.” He clamped his hand over his eyes and sighed. “I love my brother. I didn’t know how much until I watched his heart break when you were at death’s door from Ian Corbet’s poison blood. He loved you so much he allowed me to sit by your side. I watched him watch you. I felt his sorrow. His regrets. His love. I could not bear to see him hurt like I hurt.”

  Rafa slid his hand from his eyes and cupped the back of her head. “I have always watched out for Luca. Always. Even when we were feuding, there were times when he was headed for disaster and I intervened. It cut me to the marrow that he thought I would kill Mara out of selfishness. I had always held out the hope that we would reconcile. It took our mutual love for you to bring us together.”

  He kissed her nose, and said softly, “But I didn’t agree to this for Luca or even for myself, Falon. I agreed for you. I could not bear to see you pine for him when you laid in my arms like you are now.”

  “Oh, Rafa,” she sighed. “I feel so selfish for wanting you both when it hurts you.”

  “It doesn’t hurt, Falon. Not like it did.” He rolled her over onto her back and searched her face with his eyes. “There is one concession I will not make however.”

  She swallowed hard. “What is that?”

  Sliding his hand down to her belly, he said, “If this child is Luca’s, the next one will be mine.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Rafa, you are so brave and giving. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, but I am so grateful you are in my life.” She pressed her hand to his. “Of course we will have children together. I swear it to you.”

  She felt him rise against her hip. Her eyes widened.

  “I told you I was going to fuck you again,” Rafa said as his lips dropped to hers. “And you know I never lie.”

  * * *

  AN HOUR LATER, feeling as if she had been in the saddle for a week, Falon stood staring at the coolers unsure what to prepare. She was famished, and after last night’s disaster in the kitchen she didn’t have much hope of success. Rafa had left with Lucien an hour ago to inquire about Anja’s condition. Had she, or hadn’t she? That was the big question. Falon didn’t want to contemplate what would happen to the lovely Lycan if Fenrir’s seed had struck home. Sasha would refuse to hand her over to the council, as any loving parent would. Falon could not blame him for any of his anger and resentment. Had it happened to her child she would feel the same. It was as if the entire world had gone crazy, and the only thing any of them could predict was that the next minute would be as unpredictable as the one preceeding it.

  Their lives had become so fluid with change and upheaval that even the Blood Law seemed to have become obsolete. It was a terrifying time for them all.

  “Falon!” Lucien bellowed from outside.

  Shit! She had told them she’d have something for them to eat when they returned and she had nothing! She sucked it up, and strode to the tent flap. She’d admit her failure and hope they could go into Hooper’s Bay for dinner. She could practically smell the succulent scents of spicy roast meat.

  When she strode outside she gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth. “Oh—” She didn’t know what to say. Rafael and Lucien stood grinning from ear to ear and behind them smiling as broadly were at least two dozen beta females. Each of them holding a platter of meat or a side dish. Men hurried to set up long trestle tables and in the blink of an eye they were all seated and eating.

  Not wanting to disrupt the merry mood but needing to know, Falon asked, What of Anja?

  Scowling, Rafa set down his sparerib. The marks were consummated.

  My, God! How? Fenrir is so—big.

  We didn’t ask about the logistics, Luca said. Anja confirmed the act, now we wait to see if that wolf’s seed bears fruit.

  If it does?

  Then Anja has a choice to make, Luca said.

  Falon swallowed hard not wishing any such choice on any woman. What if she refuses?

  Then for the sake of the nation, it will be made for her, Rafa said staunchly.

  Oh, was all she could say as she prayed to the gods Fenrir struck out.

  Let’s not dwell on what may not be, Luca said. Let’s enjoy the food and our company while we can.

  The conversation ran from raunchy bantering to serious battle strategies back to raunchy bantering. Falon half listened, concentrating on the delicious food in front of her. It beat anything she could remotely come up with. Ravenously she ate until she could not eat another morsel.

  As she sat back, sated and feeling like an overindulged cat, Falon glanced at Luca and Rafa on either side of her as they enjoyed the savory dishes. If only she could satisfy them that way, she’d be the perfect mate.

  Lucien grinned as he chewed a piece of roast venison. “I want you for dessert.”

  Warmth infused her. “I might be able to arrange that,” she said, batting her eyes.

  He leaned into her, and said, “I’m going to lick every inch of you like an ice-cream cone.”

  Falon was about to tell him he could lick her anytime, anywhere, when she caught the scent of her mother. Her nostrils twitched and she looked past the revelry to see Layla standing some fifty yards away on the edge of the encampment.

  Anger swept through her. Abruptly she stood. “Excuse me, I need to speak with my mother.”

  She barely noticed that everyone at the table rose out of respect. Her focus was only on one thing. Wringing the truth out of the woman who gave birth to her.

  She sensed Layla’s fear as she quickly approached. She was smart to be afraid. Without a word Falon grabbed her by the elbow and steered her two hundred yards away from the camp stopping at the swell of a rolling foothill.

  “How dare you lie to me?” Falon hissed. “About my father, about Alana!” She wrenched Layla hard, garnering a cry of pain from her. “If you think you’re in pain now, continue to lie to me and you’ll feel pain like you’ve never felt pain in your life.”

  “Falon, please,” Layla cried. “Your father is here, he wishes to speak with you.”

  Twenty-five

  “WHAT DO YOU mean he’s here?” Falon demanded, looking quickly around. Thomas Corbet here among five hundred armed Lycan? He’d have to be mad to do such a thing. She didn’t care that his life would be in danger—good riddance. What she feared was being exposed as his daughter before she had the chance to permanently silence him.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Where is he?” she demanded.

  “I will only take you to him if you promise not to harm him,” Layla replied.

  Falon snarled. “Are you serious?” She got down in her mother’s face. “He destroyed Lucien and Rafael’s parents in the ugliest, most hideous way possible! For that alone I want to tear him apart!”

  But Layla refused to back down. Falon shook her head and strode away from her, unable to stomach it. But she whirled around and strode back to her. “You’ve been with him all this time, haven’t you?” When Layla did not answer, Falon screamed. “Haven’t you?”

  Layla nodded.

  “How could you?�
�� Falon was sick to her stomach.

  She ripped her father’s amulet off her neck and flung it at her mother. “Tell him the only thing I want from him is his beating heart in my hand.”

  She turned on her heels, and strode angrily from the woman who’d given birth to her.

  “Your sister asks for you, Falon.”

  Abruptly, Falon stopped in her tracks. It took every ounce of control she possessed not to turn around. Alana was an innocent, clueless to what she had been born into, and Falon’s only sibling.

  “That’s low even for you, Mother,” she spat.

  “Thank you,” Layla said from behind her. “For saving her life.”

  Falon closed her eyes and fought back tears. She had a sister she would never know. Slowly, she turned and faced her mother. “If you despised me so much, why did you show up at Mondragon and save me?”

  “Oh, baby, I don’t despise you! I love you with all my heart.”

  “You tossed me into the trash and walked out of my life when I was six years old.”

  “I didn’t lie about why, Falon. Thomas was becoming unstable. He wrestled with vicious demons.” Tears welled in her eyes. “He still does.”

  “Then why did you have another child with him?”

  “Because I love him. Because he got better.” She grasped Falon’s hand, and brought it to her heart. “Because I desperately missed the daughter I had lost.”

  Falon pulled her hand away. Emotions crashed violently in her heart. “How could you love such a man?”

  “I don’t know, it just—happened. I love him as much as you love Luca and Rafe. I would do anything for him.”

  Falon’s eyes narrowed. “Including fight me?”

  Layla hung her head. “Even that.”

  Falon’s resolve galvanized in her heart. “That’s good to know. Once again, Mother, you pick him over me.” She scoffed at the new tears tracking down her mother’s cheeks. “Why did you even bother to come to Mondragon and save me? Did you not know of my power? Or was it because of my power you saved me in hopes you could sway me to my father’s side?”

  “When Thomas came to me and told me Ian had poisoned you, he was the one who brought me to you. I bit him and took his blood, Falon, because he knew it was the only blood that could save you!”

  Horrified, Falon backed away from her mother. It wasn’t her mother’s blood, and Luca’s and Rafa’s blood, that saved her? It was her father’s Corbet blood? Dear God!

  “It saved you and fortified your powers, Falon. You are more powerful because of him, not because you are Lycan.”

  “That is not true! I have inherent Lycan power.”

  “Yes, but it would not be what it is without your father’s blood. You have the power of both races and that combination has somehow manifested into something greater than the two entities combined.” She grasped Falon’s hands. “He was there with you in spirit just as Rafael, Lucien, and I were present in heart and body, praying you recovered.”

  “Oh, such a caring man,” Falon snarled. “If he cared about me he would end this accursed thousand-year wolf hunt.”

  “He can’t.”

  “He won’t,” Falon stated, flinging her mother’s hands from hers. “And that’s okay, but you give dear old Dad a message for me. Tell him if he really cares about me, he’ll keep his mouth shut about his relationship to me and meet me the night of the rising, Slayer to Lycan, and accept the outcome.”

  Falon turned away from her mother for the last time and went back to her alphas. With each step she took toward them, the turmoil in her heart raged more furiously. She was so torn up with guilt about not telling them of her parentage she didn’t know what to do. Tell Rafael and Lucien her identity and she lost them. And the nation lost the power of the three.

  Hot tears stung her eyes. How could this be? Why? Why, when all she wanted was peace and to live her life simply and honestly with the two men she loved? The baby she carried was part Slayer. The grandchild of the most terrible of all Slayers. Rafe or Lucien would never accept that their blood comingled with Corbet blood.

  Falon exhaled. Would she, after the rising, have to go off and have her child in secret to protect him from his father? From every Lycan? Or did she keep her secret? Could she live with herself? Or would she become like her mother, miserable and living the lie with her child?

  Abruptly she found herself at the edge of camp. She stopped, not wanting Rafe or Lucien to see her like this. Today was a day of celebration for them. Her mood would bring them down. She turned back toward the low rolling hills and when she was far enough out of eyesight, she stripped and set her clothes aside, then shifted.

  She ran hard. She ran from her life, her past, and what waited in her future. As much as she dreaded the rising, she looked forward to it more. Everything came down to that one night. The night that the Blood Moon would rise over the battleground just over the swell of the foothills.

  The fresh scents of the north invigorated her turbulent heart. The salt of the sea and the rich earth mingled creating a euphoric perfume. She loved the raw beauty of the area and the untainted scents. She continued to run west to the sea where, if she were braver, she would jump in and let it take her away. Away from the inevitable heartbreak, she would cause the men she loved.

  And there was the real issue. She could deal with it because of the child she carried, but Rafael and Lucien would be left with nothing but contempt to warm them each night for the rest of their lives.

  She could not bear to see their shock followed by disgust, then ultimately their bloodlust to destroy her. Oh, when had it become so complicated? Why could they not see that despite the hatred, the two factions could be bridged by love? Her gut summersaulted when she thought of her parents. How could Layla fall in love with such a man and bear him two daughters? How could Thomas Corbet, the villain of every Lycan nightmare, fall in love with a Lycan? Love her enough to forsake his clan for all these years? But not enough to refrain from destroying her people?

  Abruptly, Falon reached the edge of a steep embankment. To go any farther she would be swimming in the cold gray Bering Sea below. It would be easy to fling herself into the freezing water. But her baby would die, Rafael and Lucien would mourn her for the rest of their lives and in the end, the nation would fall to the Slayers.

  In a finite snapshot of clarity, Falon understood her destiny. Her destiny had been to reunite the brothers, walk with them into the valley of death, and emerge victorious on the other side. What happened after was inconsequential because her purpose would have been served.

  The rising was to pit one faction against the other and the strongest would survive. There would be no room in the new world of either Lycan or Slayer for a hybrid. There could be only one pure race. Which one it would be would be determined in less than a month. And what would she do after?

  She stood on the edge of the cliff. A precipice. The cold sea air tore through her fur, a reminder of what was to come. How long she stood there gazing across the moody sea she did not know. But the biting wind felt good against her face.

  Falon! Rafael called. Return to me!

  She shook her head at Mister I’m-in-Charge-of-Everyone. I’ll return shortly.

  Where are you? Lucien demanded.

  I’m safe.

  She ignored their continuing calls. She was in no danger and despite the turmoil in her heart, she felt better.

  Slowly she backed away from the edge and turned toward the place she would always call home. That place where Rafael and Lucien were. The wind shifted, and her hackles rose. Turning, she saw them. A large pack of genuine wolves. And behind them, pack Ivanov led by the great silver alpha Sasha. Falon didn’t panic. She didn’t show fear. At the very least, she could easily outrun them, but that would be the cowardly thing to do.

  In well-rehearsed form
ation, the wolves moved around her, the big gray male snarling as he trotted toward her, his head and ears down.

  I am not your enemy, she said to him.

  He shook his head. His mate, a charcoal gray female just slightly smaller than the alpha, moved in beside him. Her golden eyes reminded her so much of her Luca. Take your mate away now or he will die today, Falon warned her.

  Heeding Falon’s warning, the she-wolf snarled and nipped at her mate’s flank. Snarling, he shook his head. The she-wolf nipped him harder. He turned on her in a vicious display of power. She yelped when his fangs caught her muzzle, drawing blood. She backed away with her head down, showing her submission.

  Falon’s rancor rose that he would show such disrespect to his mate. She snarled and moved straight toward him. At once, the pack swarmed. But Falon kept her eye on the prize. The alpha. When he went down, the pack would be confused and she would give the she-wolf the opportunity to move out of harm’s way.

  The gray alpha was no match for Falon. She leapt onto his back, sunk her fangs into his furry neck, and flung him like a sack of flour into his oncoming pack. Like a bowling ball, he slammed into them and took most of them out.

  Tell them to stand down, Falon said to the she-wolf. Or they all die here.

  The she-wolf snarled and nipped at the pack as they regrouped. The big alpha stood up on shaky legs and growled at Falon, but he didn’t make another offensive move. She stalked toward them as they backed into Ivanov. Sasha shifted to human form but his pack remained wolf.

  “You, who are not even full Lycan, have divided the nation,” he charged. “The council has commanded me to exterminate you.”

  His words hit her with the velocity of a Mack truck. It was a lie!

  Falon shifted into her human form, not caring when she stood naked before a pack of horny Lycan. “A lie!” she challenged.