by Lola Taylor
Danica watched with rapt attention as the bride-to-be modeled dress after expensive dress. Longing swelled in her chest. Cliché as it sounded, since Danica was a little girl, she’d always dreamed of being swept off her feet and having some big dream wedding someday. Now it really did seem like that—a dream. She and Gage had never talked about having a wedding, but part of that might have been because he was super-stressed dealing with pack stuff, and she felt guilty for what seemed like a trivial matter in comparison.
Okay, she knew it wasn’t wrong, exactly, to want an official wedding. She just didn’t know if werewolves did that sort of thing, like it was something only humans would pine for.
She blinked. God, since when had she started thinking of herself as a werewolf? Truth be told, she’d noticed the change creeping up on her this entire past month, ever since she mated with Gage. The pack brothers seemed to like having her around, too, though their trust in Gage still wasn’t completely mended. She’d tried her best to be the mediator and help out however she could, but she knew no matter how much she loved Gage and wanted the others to see how much he cared, she couldn’t force her pack to like him. A lot of them still resented Gage over what happened with the wraiths.
Gossip within packs was akin to that of a high school. She’d heard stories and whispered talk about their feelings for their Alpha. From what she gathered, she thought they had started to warm up to Gage before the wraith incident, but then shit hit the fan and Gage lost their trust again. It wasn’t even his fault they were so distrustful to begin with. Malachite, the witch who’d sent the wraiths after them at that cottage in the woods, and Mistress Black were responsible for the gigantic black hole of mistrust prevalent in the Moonstruck Pack. Danica wished she could rip their throats out for causing so much trouble for her people.
She blinked, startled. Normally, she wasn’t one to be so bloodthirsty. That was another aspect about her that had grown this past month with the closer they drew to the full moon and her first official Change.
Unable to resist the pull, she looked toward the window, almost forlorn she’d shut out the beautiful moonlight. In the library back at Crescent Manor, Gage had a collection of old diaries and journals belonging to previous packmasters. Some of them had recorded their first Change. Being a bookworm, Danica had eagerly devoured all the dusty, worn volumes so she’d know what to expect. They all pretty much described the sensation of being a fearless predator as “awesome,” but getting to said awesomeness involved a world of pain as the Curse of the Moon literally stretched and morphed every bone and muscle you had. It would hurt like hell the first time. When she’d nervously asked Gage about it, he quickly reassured her that her body would adapt every time she changed, and it would grow easier and eventually be a pleasant experience.
Yeah. And I bet doctors tell pregnant women the same thing when they go through childbirth.
A wave of nausea nearly made her puke up her dinner. Holy shit, she was going to turn into a wolf! It sounded crazy even thinking it.
On the verge of hyperventilating, she forced herself to calm down and focus on something else.
Something sexy and with a man-piece she’d like to shower attention on right about now.
Her thoughts drifted back to Gage as the television show ended. He’d been so anxious when he’d left; thanks to their bond, she’d felt his nerves for the duration of his absence. It had been a half hour. The sense of fear and anxiety had only soured while the minutes ticked away, nearly driving her mad. Linked emotions was great when it was all lovey-dovey stuff. With anything negative or angsty, she quickly found herself taking on the mood of her mate, even if she’d been in good spirits previously. Gage had also strained to adjust to the unexplainable mood swings, especially when she’d had her period and he had become overly emotional at a pack meeting. That had been entertaining.
Danica leaned her head back against the headboard and sighed. It was so frustrating not being able to tell your own emotions from someone else’s. Relationships were hard enough. You’d think knowing how your significant other was feeling all the time would be a good thing, but Danica was starting to feel like she could never get any privacy. Gage promised to teach her to control it and to shut out his emotions, or at least mute them, but even he was struggling with that concept.
Danica smiled wistfully. Despite all the struggle, she knew without a doubt she wouldn’t want it any other way. Feeling close to someone, like you’re a part of them and they are a part of you, was what she’d always wanted.
Seth leaving her had broken something inside of her, and for a long time she’d been afraid she’d never get it back. She’d been holding on to a thread that not all people were cruel and would abandon her. Seth’s abrupt departure, along with his harsh words about her fuller figure and how she was unfit to be seen with him, was the severing blow to that thread of hope. Ever since, she’d kept herself from getting too close to people for fear of them letting her down. It had made for a lonely life, and she thought she could handle it and that she just didn’t need any relationships.
Then she met Gage, and it was like seeing the world in color again. The part of her she’d repressed—her ability to feel a connection with someone—had been starving for attention. Mating with Gage had been exactly what she’d needed to feel whole and at peace with herself, her life, and the way things had turned out for her.
Gage’s emotions suddenly spiked, his anxiety so palpable it made her breath catch. She sat up, honing in on their connection as his anxiety turned to disbelief, then shock, and then fear.
Her heart beat faster as the swirling emotions all came to a boiling point and spilled over to a darker feeling she hadn’t yet sensed through her mate but knew all too well.
Rage.
Screw this waiting around crap. She might technically be a queen of wolves, but this wasn’t the fifteenth century.
Sometimes men needed rescuing too.
Danica climbed out of bed, slipped on her shoes, and locked up their room. She walked briskly, except when she had to stop once to ask a guard for directions to the assembly room where the meeting was being held.
The closer she drew to her mate, the deeper her frown and brows sank. Something was wrong. Dread crept into her heart as she automatically imagined the worst.
Nik offended someone, and Gage, being the white knight, intervened and has been horribly wounded. Or maybe someone threatened me and he went totally ape-shit on them and got stripped of his ranking and—shit, shit, shit, Danica! Stop thinking!
Shouts drifted toward her. She broke into an all-out sprint as she turned the corner, nearly falling flat on her face in the process. She raced toward the crowd gathered in front of the meeting room doors.
Through the tangle of voices, it was hard to hear what was going on. Danica grabbed the nearest bystander, a tall man with dark hair and an expensive-looking suit.
“Hey!” She bit her tongue and cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she said more politely, “but can you tell me what happened?”
The man turned around, his thin upper lip rolled up in disgust. He stared at her hand, which still grasped his arm. Then his gaze rolled up to her face and he grinned. “So glad you could make it in time for the show, my lady.”
Danica instantly recoiled, taking a step back. “You’re the packmaster of that crazy werewolf who tried to kill me.”
His smiled hitched. “Norman,” he said, over enunciating. “My name is Norman Bl—”
“I remember your name!” she snapped. She looked past him, too worried about Gage to focus on the creep in front of her. “What happened?”
“Unfortunately, nothing,” Norman said, sounding bored. “I so would have liked to have seen Malachite wipe the floor with that insolent pup you call a mate.”
As her brain pieced together mate and Malachite in the same sentence, a spike of terror drove itself straight into Danica’s heart. Shoving Norman out of the way, she forced herself to the front of the crowd. Alar
a stood there, barking orders to her guards to control the crowd and looking all-around harried. Danica couldn’t remember ever seeing a hair out of place on her head. She even looked put-together while mating with Nik for crying out loud!
Danica’s eyes spotted her mate instantly—as well as the three claw marks marring his cheek.
Her eyes widened. “Gage!” she screamed.
Nik was holding him back, though narrowly. Danica had never seen Gage so angry. His nails were claws and his teeth had morphed into fangs. He was somewhere between beast and man, and it terrified her a little.
But the moment he heard her voice, it was as if all the rage in him vanished. She felt it drain away as he slowly turned and looked at her, his gold eyes returning to that blue hue she so loved to gaze upon.
“Danica,” he whispered.
Nik glanced at her and sighed with relief. “Thank God,” he said as she approached. “I thought I was going to have to knock him out before he made a further ass of himself.”
“What happened?” she said, her voice trembling as she eyed the angry, puckered skin around the deep lacerations in Gage’s face.
Gage and Nik both cast a stony look behind her. “Him,” Nik said. “Asshole alert, like, we’re talking a Category-Five Prick.”
Danica turned toward the wall.
There was no missing the sophisticated yet masculine man who stood there. With his vivid coloring and seven-foot height, he easily stood over most of his fellow werewolves.
The descriptions Gage and Nik had told her all clicked into place, and her voice hardened. “Malachite,” she hissed.
The other werewolf blinked, turning his head in her direction. Their eyes locked; he was handsome in a cold, classical way. A bruise bloomed above his eye, which was nearly swollen shut, and Danica smiled inside as she spotted blood welling from his busted lip.
Way to go, Gage.
Then Malachite blinked several times, and he went completely pale.
Caught off guard, Danica stared back, unsure what to do. Why was he looking at her like that, as if he’d seen a ghost?
She watched his lips form the words, “Oh my God,” before he strode toward her.
Nik and Gage instantly shielded her, both men growling and snarling as their former Alpha approached. Malachite never took his eyes off her, and it made her want to shrink away and hide behind her mate.
But she wasn’t the type of girl who could hide anymore. She wouldn’t, couldn’t. Hiding implied weakness, and she couldn’t afford for her or Gage to be seen as vulnerable.
A king is not weak. Neither is a queen. As Gage has said before, appearances mean everything in this world.
Inserting her arms in the space between Nik and Gage, she stepped between them and straightened her spine. She stared up into Malachite’s gaze defiantly. “Yeah? What’s your problem?”
Malachite didn’t speak. His mouth was open in shock as he searched her face so minutely she thought he might be trying to memorize it.
Growling, she snapped her fingers in front of his face. “Hello? Did you not hear me?”
He blinked and roughly cleared his throat, shaking his head and hiding his gaze as his long hair fell over his shoulders. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said in a velvety soft voice. “I was just wondering if I was imagining things again.”
Huh?
“What are you talking about?” Danica demanded. “Where the hell do you get off attacking my mate?”
Malachite’s head jerked up and Danica froze. There was so much pain in his eyes, like the man’s heart held a thousand sorrows.
Stunned, she couldn’t help but stare at him. He looked so… tortured. Based on the stories she’d heard, she’d almost expected him to show up in a cape while twirling his token villainous mustache.
Malachite’s expression twisted in anguish. “Tell me it’s not true.” Danica tensed as he reached up and gently cupped her cheek. “You can’t be mated. You’re supposed to—”
“Get the hell off her!” Gage roared, knocking away Malachite’s hand and pulling her against his chest. He pointed a finger at the other werewolf. “Don’t you dare touch her again.”
Tucking Danica into his side, he turned them away and started forcing a path through the crowd.
Guards started after them. “Hey! Halt right this instant!”
“Let them go!” Alara ordered. Her guards didn’t look too pleased, but they obeyed all the same.
Nik hurriedly walked beside them, glancing between Alara and Gage.
“Don’t worry,” Danica said. “I’ve got him.”
Nik glanced at his brother one more time with worry, then curtly nodded before joining Alara.
As they broke free of the crowd and Danica started to turn back around, her eyes again roved over the man who had brought her beloved so much pain.
A man who still stared at her as if he couldn’t bear to look away.
Danica tried to watch where she was going but found it nearly impossible to take her eyes off her mate. Though the claw marks on his face were healing rapidly, the sight of the angry lacerations filled her with rage. She was tempted to turn around and claw Malachite’s eyes out, but a larger part of her wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between him and her mate as possible.
Neither she nor Gage said a word on the way back to their room. Nobody bothered them, but plenty of people stared. Danica practiced her “royal-slash-I-don’t-give-a-shit” look by keeping her chin lifted and pretending not to see them. There would be more than enough gossip to go around without fueling the fire.
The second they entered their room, Danica locked the door and immediately pulled Gage into the bathroom. She knew baths helped him relax. They’d often enjoyed long bubble baths together back at Crescent Manor.
“Shirt. Off,” she commanded, grabbing a washcloth and turning on the hot water in the large tub. Steam wafted off the water as she dumped in a dollop of bubble bath.
Rip!
Danica whirled and her brows rose. “What are you—?”
She didn’t have time to finish the sentence because Gage, his muscular, sweaty chest now bared, closed the distance between them in two purposeful strides and crushed his mouth to hers.
She blinked in surprise, not having time to prepare as his tongue pried her lips open and slipped inside her mouth. She moaned as he cupped her sex through the fabric of her silk dress, rubbing his fingers along her seam.
“Gage,” she finally gasped. “What are you doing?”
“I need you,” he said roughly, almost growling it. “Now.” He seized the back of her head and pulled her mouth onto his again in another hungry kiss. She could feel her control slipping away as something inside her, something more feral, whimpered to be set free. As her brain tried to process what was happening, her hands eagerly sought out his zipper. He groaned as she pulled it down and yanked his pants toward the floor. He stepped out of them, kicking them aside as she pulled at his boxers.
No matter how many times they made love—which was often—she could never get enough of him.
His swollen cock jutted outward, only an inch from her face. She was about to stand when her carnal instincts took over, and she took him into her mouth.
He groaned as she sucked him, rolling her tongue over the head of his cock. His hips bucked as she worked.
“God, yes, Danica. Just like that.”
Fire grew beneath her belly, making her ache with need. Releasing him, she stood as he growled in protest. Grinning mischievously, she placed a finger to his lips, hushing him. She leaned forward until her lips were next to his ear. “You know what feels better than my mouth?” she said, nipping at his earlobe. She grabbed his hand and slid it up her skirt to the slickness begging to be touched.
That was all it took. Any last ounce of control Gage had went out the door as he seized the neckline of her dress and tore it clean down the middle. Throwing the scraps of ruined silk to the floor, he tore at her bra next. Her breasts sprang f
ree, and he caught a puckered nipple in his mouth, teasing and sucking on it.
She whimpered, pressing her chest against him as his other hand pulled at her soaked panties. She could barely think as she stepped out of them, nearly tripping herself in the process as he picked her up and sat them in the tub. She had just enough sense to reach behind her and turn off the faucet before Gage planted her on his cock and began moving his hips.
She spread her thighs as far as she could to take his extra girth in, moaning as his shaft pierced her sweet spot over and over in slow, sensual movements. He drove deep within her, filling her up in a grinding rhythm that set her blood ablaze. Sweat broke out along her brow, and she knew it had nothing to do with the bath temperature. The steamy water sloshed around them, bubbles soaking their skin as he kneaded her breasts and kissed the cherry nubs of her nipples. “I’ll never get tired of these,” he murmured, sounding out of breath. “They’re so perfect. I can barely get a handful.” He cupped a breast in each palm and squeezed in rhythm to his strokes.
She cried out, grinding her hips and her sex harder against him. “Oh, Gage.”
“Yes,” he said, working her harder. “Come for me.”
He didn’t have to say it twice. Pleasure exploded in her, and she cried out as she writhed against him, trying to draw out the orgasm for as long as possible.
She felt his hot seed pour into her a moment later as he groaned deep in his throat, thrusting a few more times before slowing and stopping altogether.
They sat like that for a minute, both panting as she laid against his chest. She loved listening to his heartbeat and the feeling of closeness it brought. His heart was racing nearly as fast as her own. She stared at his tattoos, the patterns of which were identical to the ones marking her skin. Seeing them brought a smile to her face every time, reminding her she was his and he was hers, and that neither of them was ever truly alone.
He idly twirled a damp strand of her hair around his finger. “I’m sorry,” he murmured.
