A roar echoed through the trees, and Laurent focused his attention on the enemy. An enemy who didn't see him coming until it was too late. His claws sliced through the vamp’s skin, severing his head. Another bullet hit him in the shoulder.
He spun, his claws extended, and found another vamp advancing on him. He dove through the air, his muscles coiled, ready for another blow. A quick swipe, and his opponent's gun dropped to the ground. Laurent bowled him over. They rolled, a heavy mass of swinging arms and kicking legs. Laurent's claws sliced the vamp’s flesh, and he cried out. The creature clenched his strong hand around Laurent’s throat, and he glared down into the vamp’s eerie silver eyes.
He snarled, baring his teeth.
“No!” The vampire's scream filled his ears as Laurent pressed down to finish off the creature. His blood was bitter.
The clang of swords drew his attention. His heart almost stopped when he saw Cayenne crumpled to the ground.
At that moment, the sky opened up. A crescendo of rain and thunder filled the air as Laurent ran toward his mate.
Cayenne's torso ached from the blow Emil had dealt her. She tightened her grip on the sword and waited from his approach. That was always Emil's downfall. Advancing, when he should retreat. She tightened her muscles, ready to spring to life.
One more step. He raised his sword. She watched him through her lashes.
“It didn’t have to come to this Cayenne,” he shouted over the storm. “Or should I call you Violet?” His eyes were swirling orbs of silver.
A back flip threw her out of harm’s way, but she made sure the tip of her boot connected with his chin. His head snapped back with a satisfying crack.
“Now we're even,” she told him as she landed lightly on her feet.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Laurent running full tilt toward Emil. His jaws were locked, and a determined glint lit his eyes. Emil must have heard him, because he spun, his sword flying. A mass of claws, teeth, and fur, Laurent landed on him with an inhuman roar. Cayenne watched, her heart in her throat. There was so much blood. So many grunts and groans as they rolled and fought.
A sharp pain tore through her chest as Laurent backed up and she saw the damage he'd done to Emil. A combination of happiness, sadness, anxiety, and ire filled her. The bonds were gone. Freedom. Memories. Her past life. Her youth. It was all there in her mind rushing in like water filling a canyon.
But Emil…He was supposed to be her kill. It was for her to finish.
Laurent dropped to his knees and turned his pained eyes to her as he slipped back into his human form. Emil's dagger stuck out from his chest. A startled cry tore from her lips, and she dove to catch him as he collapsed. She cradled him in her arms and stared into the brown eyes she'd grown to love.
“You crazy, crazy man,” she cried, her words muffled against his cheek.
“Cayenne—”
“For goodness sake, call me Violet.” A puzzled look crossed his face. “I never much liked the name Cayenne anyway; it's what Emil always called me.”
“Violet.” Her name came out on a sigh, and he cupped her cheek with one big, bloodied palm. Her heart beat violently in her chest.
“That was supposed to be my kill. My hundredth. You'd better get your health back so I can whollop you.”
“Whollop me?”
She grinned, realizing Amanda's favorite expression had made it into her vocabulary.
“Damn, I love you,” he said, sounding pained.
“Should I pull it out?” she asked, frowning at the dagger. Werewolf physiology wasn't her forte. He dropped his head back, his eyes dazed. “Don't you dare die on me, Laurent. Don't you dare. André!”
Her shout echoed through the woods. She hardly noticed the water showering down over them until she saw it washing away the blood. Vital blood.
“I love you, you big beast. Don't you die,” she repeated, hugging him tighter. She was closer to tears than she could ever remember being.
André dropped to her side and inspected the man in her arms.
“Lay him flat.”
As gently as she could, she followed his orders. He pulled the blade free and flung it deep into the woods.
“We've got to stop the bleeding. It will speed his healing.”
Healing. Such a beautiful word. So fitting. For her, and for Laurent.
André pressed his hands against the wound. She tugged her shirt over her head and offered it to him. The rain pelted her skin, stinging her.
“How is he?” Jules asked, coming through the grove. Sebastian halted beside him.
“He's unconscious. But he'll be fine.”
“I'll go get Burke and the girls.” Jules headed into the trees.
Sebastian collapsed next to Laurent.
She met his gaze. “I'm sorry I brought this upon you.”
“We've had worse.”
She turned and looked at the smoldering house.
“The sprinklers put most of it out. It can be rebuilt, Violet.”
Suddenly numb, she nodded.
Without warning, the man between them came alive, striking out and sending Sebastian and André flying. Violet rolled backwards and landed in a crouch. Laurent growled low in his throat, and she saw the change happening to him as he went from human to werewolf in the blink of an eye.
He faced her in a lunge, his brown eyes bright in the darkness. When his gaze focused on her, his features softened. His posture relaxed, and he stopped growling.
“I should have mentioned he'd be a little grouchy when he first wakes up,” André called over the thunder.
Laurent dropped to his knees, his bare chest perfect and whole once again. The fur disappeared, and his bones compacted until he was human. One very handsome human. The rain had washed the blood away.
She launched herself into his arms.
“Let's go find the rest of the pack, André,” Sebastian said, his voice distant.
“Do I remember hearing something about love coming from those beautiful lips of yours?” Laurent asked softly, kissing her cheeks, her neck, and everywhere in between.
“You did. I thought you were unconscious.”
“Almost.” He fused their lips together in a kiss that stole her breath and spoke of years of missed kisses. Rain helped their hands glide over each other’s skin as they touched and caressed.
She trailed a hand over the place where the mating mark rested. His heart beat solidly beneath her palm. Assured that he really was fine, she wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders.
A familiar flutter started in her stomach and radiated outward.
“We're going to get a hotel room,” Jules called out.
“I’ll clean up this mess and deal with the fire department. You guys should get out of here,” Burke said and strolled off toward the garage.
“We'll catch you later,” Laurent said, lifting his head a fraction. She smiled and pulled him back to her. “He’s right. There’s a hurricane coming—“
“I’m sick of hurricanes. Last week. This week. Let’s go somewhere where there aren’t any hurricanes,” she whispered against his lips. Needing to be closer, they sank to the ground.
“We really have to stop doing this in the rain.”
“I don't think we should stop at all,” he murmured against her throat. A delicious shiver raced over her skin, and she eagerly arched against his hand when she slipped it beneath the button of her jeans.
“Mmm...you're right.” She closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensations flowing through her and the happy memories they were creating to add to past great memories. Like pictures in a photo album, she saw her past. Memories flashed by as if they'd never been missing. Her childhood. Laurent. His family. Her family.
The night she died.
She shook her head, not wanting to remember that part.
“My memories...”
“Are they back?”
She didn't open her eyes; she only nodded.
“I thought Em
il might have cast a spell on you. What do you remember?”
“Only how badly I need you inside me.” She smiled.
His groan was drowned out by a loud clap of thunder. She reached between them and cupped his cock. He was hard and ready, just the way she liked him.
Her pussy grew moist at the thought of him settling between her legs, of them making love. She gave him a squeeze and was rewarded with more groans of pleasure.
He trailed kisses over her skin as he worked off her jeans. The soaked fabric made it difficult, but she lifted her hips to help. A stick poked her in the shoulder, and she tried to ignore it.
Then Laurent knelt between her legs and glided his palms back and forth over her thighs. “Mine.”
“I was just thinking the same about you.”
His gentle fingers stroked the tender folds between her legs. She tipped her pelvis to give him better access. He slid one thick finger inside her pussy and grazed her clit with his thumb. She dug her fingers into the damp earth, silently willing him to bring her to the peak of pleasure. The slow in and out motion of his finger and the lazy circles of his thumb reminded her of torture. A very slow, exacting torture with one purpose—to drive her mad with want.
Mind and body, she was anxious. Ready. Every nerve ending screamed for completion...and more contact. She felt her way to his cock and gave it a hard squeeze. In the cold rain, it was hot like lava. She craved the feel of his big, warm body almost as much as she craved the orgasm that built slowly between her legs.
“Warm me up, big boy.” She gave his member a gentle tug to drive her point home.
He withdrew his fingers immediately and settled himself over her. She opened her eyes and blinked back the rain drops. His hair was a wet, sexy mess, and he slid his body easily over hers.
She hiked a leg over his hip, opening her body to his. Once his arms were bracketed around her, his chest brushing her breasts and his cock poised at her entrance, a sense of rightness washed over her. A sense of home. In a field, drenched by rain, or in a bed...it didn't matter. Just so long as she was with him. Beneath him. Wrapped around him.
He kissed her chin, then her jaw. She turned, met his lips with hers, and grabbed his butt. Flexing her fingers into his taunt flesh, she speared her tongue between his lips and pulled him inside her. His weight pressed her into the dirt, but she didn't mind. In fact, she welcomed it, her body eagerly cradling his as he slowly withdrew and then pressed into her again. She broke the kiss and watched the emotions play across his face as he surged in and out of her.
Perfection. The way she'd always dreamed it would be. Two hundred years and several thousand miles ago, she'd been a young woman in love...and in desire. She'd waited for him, for something that had never come to fruition.
Until now.
She broke the kiss. “We've waited a long time for this,” she said softly.
“Uh-huh.” Concentration hardened his features. In and out he moved, faster and faster, delighting her eager nerve endings and building a climax within her.
Delicious. The word rang through her mind over and over.
Delicious. Delicious. Delicious.
The differences between them had never been more apparent. Or more beautiful. The way her body tightened around him and softened beneath him. The energy and stamina his wolf provided. The endurance and insatiable desire she'd been given as a vampire.
They were perfectly matched. She would never deny it again.
“I won't let you.”
“Reading my mind again, wolf?” She arched against him, and he ducked his head to nibble the tender skin of her neck.
“Always, mon amour,” he whispered. “Always.”
“I'm sorry.”
“For what?”
“Disappearing on you. Wasting two hundred years.”
“It doesn't matter. You're here now…and that's what...matters.” His breathlessness made her smile. She wrapped her legs around his waist and held on for the ride. His movements were so hard, so fast, that she actually moved across the wet ground.
With a sound she'd come to expect and thought uniquely his own, he groaned. His muscles coiled and his cock swelled deep inside her as he emptied himself into her. The pressure against her clit was enough to set her off as well, and she gave a cry of her own. Her pussy clenched and released around his cock as her whole body melted in ecstasy.
“Hmm...”
“I agree.” He rolled to the side and pulled her on top of him.
“I'm still going to whollop you,” she told him, pressing herself against him from shoulder to knee.
“You promise?”
“Absolutely,” she whispered against his lips. And then she kissed him. It was a kiss that poured out her heart and spoke of all the living they still had to do together in this life, all the love she'd finally found.
And when he returned her kiss, she knew that he, too, had finally found his reason for living.
The End
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Author Bio
An action movie buff with a penchant for all things supernatural and sexy, Selena Blake combines her love for adventure, travel and romance into steamy paranormal romance. Selena’s books have been called “a steamy escape” and have appeared on bestseller lists, been nominated for awards, and won contests. When she’s not writing you can find her by the pool soaking up some sun, day dreaming about new characters, and watching the cabana boy (aka her muse), Derek. Fan mail keeps her going when the diet soda wears off so write to her at [email protected].
Visit her online at http://www.selena-blake.com or if you’re on Facebook, become a fan at http://www.facebook.com/authorSelenaBlake
Excerpt from Mated to a Cajun Werewolf
(Book 4 in the Stormy Weather series)
“It looks like this is going to be a doozy of a storm, folks. Hurricane Love is skirting Florida’s east coast right now, roaring north at fifteen miles per hour. The storm will likely make landfall between Jacksonville, Florida and Charleston, South Carolina. Cities along the coast are now under a full voluntary evacuation. Paul, how are things looking in the Weather Center?”
André Deveraux glanced up from the book in his lap and studied the gray haired man on the television screen. Behind him a large map of the Southeast showed the first of bands of rain moving across Savannah. The wide mass of swirling clouds looked imposing, even to André.
He'd gotten to the airport hours in advance of his flight with hopes of catching an earlier one, but the airport was clogged with travelers and the plane/passenger ratio was not good. The Bobs, Deveraux Shipping's lawyers, had been smart to catch a flight late last night. André had wanted another night to himself, to think over his future. Not that the extra time had helped.
“Hurricane Love is picking up speed, Don. And the barometer continues to drop. South Florida is already experiencing heavy rain from this storm. Fort Lauderdale has picked up two and a half inches in the last six hours. If you're in the path of this storm, I strongly urge you to get out of the way.” The man made a sweeping motion with his hand, away from the coast.
Easier said than done, buddy.
A sharp ring and the accompanying vibration alerted him to a call. He dug his cell phone out of his pants pocket and glanced at the number. Angelica. A sharp ache squeezed his heart and headed south.
He pressed the answer button and held it to his ear. “Hi, Angel.”
“Hiya, handsome. We were wondering if you were able to catch an earlier flight.”
He glanced at his luggage, still sitting in the same spot at his feet where he'd dropped it three hours ago.
“No. There weren't any earlier flights.”
A long pause clued him in to Angelica's worry. Ever since that week in the cabin when he and Jules had brought her in out of the storm he'd had a connection with her. Past what was normal f
or a brother and sister-in-law. But she'd made her choice. It was Jules who'd stolen her heart. And André had stepped out of the picture.
“I'll be fine, Angel. Don't worry about me.”
“I can't help but worry about you. You won't let anyone take care of you.”
“That's because I don't need taking care of,” he clipped. That wasn't entirely true, and he knew it. He saw what Angelica had with Jules and Sebastian with Amanda and it made him crave that closeness for himself. He was no longer used to the yearning that plagued him. He didn't like it. Didn't like wanting anything as much as he wanted a woman of his own. Someone to hold close, someone who would dote on him, be excited to see him, someone to share his life, his wealth with. But that woman was not Angel. “I didn't mean to be short with you.”
“I know,” she said quietly. She probably did. Angelica Humphrey was an amazing woman, easy-going, expressive, giving. Perfect in so many ways. And she fit seamlessly into Pack life.
“Any progress on the house?” he asked, hoping that questions about something other than him would ease some of the growing tension. When their home had burnt to the ground last month, Sebastian, his older brother and the Alpha of their pack, had declared that they would rebuild. Construction had already begun.
“Sebastian's looking for a supplier of old flooring. There was a reporter snooping around the other day but Gin and Burke ran him off. They've almost got the roof on.”
She continued talking, telling him about the plans that Amanda and Sebastian, the pack’s Alphas, were making. Only half listening, he heard something about overstuffed furniture, rocking chairs and a nursery.
He watched the TV screen and the storm that was heading to shore. Just then a voice came over the loudspeaker announcing that all flights had been canceled due to weather.
“Angel...” he interrupted. She fell silent. “They just canceled my flight. I have to go. Talk to you soon.”
“Okay. Love ya. Be careful.”
“You too.”
He ended the call and stared at the phone for several seconds. That ache was still there nestled in his heart. He'd dwelled on their relationship far longer than he should have. The pact with Jules didn't extend to mates. And even if it did, he just didn't love Angel with an all-consuming passion. He'd only felt that with one woman. The one woman he could never have.
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