by Elle Jasper
“You’re partner isna here,” a deep, brogued voice came from the shadows. “’Tis only you.”
I pulled up the sheet to cover my nakedness. “Who the hell are you?” I asked, scanning the room for the speaker. “Where’s my partner?”
Then, a slight movement from a darkened corner caught my eye; a figure rose and moved into the firelight. Dark, wavy hair brushed his shoulders; a white, long-sleeved shirt, loosely buttoned, hung casually untucked against a pair of worn jeans. A pair of silvery-blue eyes stared down at me. A small scar, just below his left eye, marred otherwise flawless pale skin.
“I’m Lucian MacLeod. Your partner is dead,” he said, matter-of-fact and seemingly without remorse. His uncanny gaze bore angrily into mine. “You were no’ to come here.”
I stared, disbelieving, yet … I knew. Those sounds hadn’t come from a surviving victim. I still questioned it. “Dead?” I asked, and suddenly I was afraid – of Lucian. I wanted to run, get away. Panic gripped my insides. “What do you mean?” I slid slowly to the edge of the bed and swung my legs over. I briefly wondered where my gear bag was and I gave the room a quick scan but didn’t see it.
“You’re no’ the same, Ms Slater,” he said. He didn’t move. “Not the same person you were when you arrived. And you’re no’ leavin’ here.”
I leapt from the bed and hit the floor running, sheet pulled tightly around me. I didn’t know where I thought I was going, barefoot and naked, but I was going.
I was caught and slammed against the wall before I ever got close to the door. Lucian’s large frame towered over me, crowded my body with his and sufficiently trapped me; he placed a hand on either side of my head then lowered his head to look me in the eye. I breathed hard, my heart slammed, and I stared furiously back.
“You’re no’ listening, Ms Slater,” he began slowly. “You’re no’ leaving.”
“The hell I am,” I ground out, and pushed against him. It was like trying to move a rock. It only made him draw closer.
“What do you remember about that eve on the moors?” he asked, his eyes lowering to my mouth. “Tell me.”
My mind spun and suddenly, the memory returned. I immediately lifted a hand to my shoulder. “We came here looking for you, but you were no where. There was a lot of thick mist, and Pax – he chased someone out of here. He was attacked. By a big dog maybe. I couldn’t tell what it was.” I lifted my chin and met Lucian’s gaze straight-on. “It turned on me and I shot it.”
Lucian’s hand moved from the side of my head to my bare shoulder. Calluses raked over my skin, and I couldn’t help it – I shivered. “You were bitten.” He grazed the flesh again. “By a wolf.”
My gaze left Lucian’s and I glanced down, at my shoulder. His fingers brushed over two puncture marks; the skin puckered but healed. I looked back at him. I couldn’t have heard him right. “What?”
“You’ve been here nearly three weeks,” he said.
My knees gave out and Lucian caught me. I sagged against his body, felt the warmth – intense warmth – of his arms around me as he lifted me. He carried me to the bed and settled me down. He leaned over me, and his hair brushed my collar bone.
“You were never supposed to be here,” he said, his raspy voice sounding regretful. “Only Agent Terragon.” He shook his head. “I requested just him. No’ you.”
I didn’t understand; nothing made sense. A freaking wolf? The flames from the hearth flickered and caused shadows to play against Lucian’s face, making his already-forceful stare even weightier. I was mesmerized by it. His face, I mean. He was … beautiful. It bothered me that I even noticed. I quickly looked away, cleared my throat, and pulled the sheet taut across my breasts.
“Why?” I asked, needing to know more. Needing to know what was so important that Pax had to die. “Why did you call WUP? And why didn’t you tell us what we were walking into?”
Lucian turned his face from me and shoved a hand through his hair. “How well versed are you on ancient curses, Ms Slater?” he said, facing the wall.
I sighed and looked at his back, watched the material pull across his shoulders. “I’m a new agent. I’ve only studied curses for a couple of years, and have been training with Pax for just a few months.”
He turned then, his face all sharp planes and shadows. All except his eyes. They literally glowed. I gasped.
“I didna mean for you to get involved,” Lucian said, his voice grave. “We only wanted help.” Grasping his shirt tail, he lifted it, exposing a long, lean abdomen ripped with muscle – and a fresh, healing wound in the shape of a ragged star, just at his ribcage. His head raised, his gaze met mine. “You shot me, Ms Slater.”
I blinked, stunned. My mind reeled, thoughts pounding the inside of my skull until it ached. “That thing was not you,” I said, almost a whisper.
“Aye,” Lucian said. “It most certainly was.” He stared down at me. “And within the week, ’twill be you, as well.”
My body went numb with shock; it was too much to take in and I wasn’t positive I believed any of it. Inside, I began to shake. I’d not been ready to take on an assignment. I was too new – a newbie. Pax had been right all along. I was treading in unfamiliar territory now and doing it totally alone.
“Here,” Lucian said, tossing a bag onto the bed. “Get dressed. We’ve things to talk about and time’s runnin’ out.”
We sat at a well-used oak table in the kitchen, across from each other, and I was on my third – yes, third – hamburger steak. No bread, nothing else but the meat. I was ravenous and could have eaten the whole cow, if given it. I felt guilty for eating, yet I couldn’t make myself stop.
A single bulb hung over the table, leaving the tiny kitchen barely illuminated. Lucian regarded me closely while I ate, watching every move I made. More than once he followed my fork to my mouth and let it linger. It caused my insides to grow uncomfortably hot. Outside, the rain continued, the wind picked up and slashed at the cottage’s window panes. Every so often a lightening bolt would flash and light up a darkened corner. I don’t know why but I kept thinking I’d see something horrifying. I didn’t. Finally, I’d had enough and I pushed my plate away.
“Thanks,” I said. I looked at Lucian. “Why can’t I remember the past three weeks?”
“You’ve been transitioning,” he replied, lacing his fingers together on the table. “Your DNA is altering at a high rate. Your core temperature rises and it exhausts your body. You mostly slept.”
I nodded, liking the way his r’s rolled, then looked at him. Hard. “Did you kill my partner?”
“No.”
My gaze never left his. I didn’t believe him. “You tried to kill me.”
He leaned forward, his voice dropping low. “You dunna know what was behind you when I leapt at you.”
My blood ran cold; a new memory hit me. “I remember you falling on top of me, and someone else shoved you off.” I thought hard. “I remember angry, amber eyes.”
“’Twas Tristan. My kinsman,” he answered.
My eyes stretched. “There are more of you?” I shook my head, scrubbed my eyes, then met his gaze. “Who are you?”
Lucian sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Let’s just say I was born this way,” he said. “A verra long time ago. ’Tis my MacLeod bloodline, no’ a curse. We have honour. A code. Rules we abide by.” He shoved a hand through his hair. “But there are others. Dangerous rogues. Lawless, with no regard to human life. At first, there were very few.” He looked at me. “But they’ve bred. They’ve bitten. And they’re out o’ control.” His eyes smouldered. “They kill for nothin’ more than reckless pleasure.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry I couldna save your partner. But there were more than one and it was either him, or you.” His gaze pinned me. “I chose you.”
I felt glad, and that made me feel guilty. “What happened to Pax’s body?” I asked. “What about WUP? Didn’t they come looking for us?”
“Aye,” he answered. He rose and walke
d to the window and peered out. “Another agent came, after I called. He looked about, asked a few questions, and left.” He glanced at me over his shoulder. “The others – they took your partner.”
“Took?” I asked incredulously, rose and set my dishes in the sink. I crossed the room and leaned against the wall – a safe distance away from Lucian. “What do you mean?”
Lucian stepped towards me. “They did no’ kill him. He’ll become one of them.”
I stared, and then, strange as it sounds, I laughed. “You’re kidding me, right? We have both become monsters?”
“You’re not a monster,” he said, his voice almost a growl, his brows furrowing into an angry frown. “We come from an ancient noble bloodline of Pict warriors. We’ve vowed to protect humans at all costs – even with our own lives. ’Twas the price our ancestors paid for our lineage.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, closed my eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again. I stared hard at Lucian. “You keep saying we. Who’s we?”
“My clansman. There are six of us. You, despite being a mistake, make the seventh.”
Once again, shock froze me. “So that’s it? Like it or not I’m a MacLeod wolf by association?”
He moved so fast my eyes barely kept up. One second Lucian was standing several feet away, in the next less than three inches separated us. He lifted his hand to my shoulder and pressed the pads of his fingers against my wound. “’Tis by much more than association, girl. You’ve got my blood rushing through your veins now and there’s no’ a WUP agent alive who can cast it out of you.”
I could feel my heart race at his touch; my skin heated several degrees and I tried to move past him. He wouldn’t let me. I felt his eyes on me, studying me with such intensity I had no other choice but to look at him.
“What do you want from me?” I asked. I found myself breathless in his close proximity. I felt hysterical tears push behind my eyelids. “What am I supposed to do?”
Lucian’s silvery-blue gaze regarded me for a long time before answering. “For now, you rest. You’re goin’ to need it.” He moved away. “Then, we train.”
For the longest time that night, my eyes remained wide open. Hours maybe. Lucian had left the bothy, but I knew he was close by – maybe just outside the door, probably waiting for me to go to sleep. I got the sense that he knew me way better than I knew him; almost as though he could read my thoughts, knew my fears, and strangely enough, consider them.
I stared at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling and let my thoughts ramble. Had Pax known about the ancient rogue curse, and about Lucian’s clan, would things have turned out differently? Would he be now transitioning into the very thing he hunted? I shivered at the thought of Pax’s fate; I hated it. It was weird, though. Part of me felt like WUP had abandoned us. The other part, though, knew they’d done exactly what they had to do. Pax and I had both been well aware of the risks involved in being a WUP agent and part of that risk was maintaining the agency. I suppose I’d never considered being bitten by a wolf.
“Do you have family?”
I hadn’t even heard Lucian enter the bothy, but he had; he now stood just in the recesses of the shadows of the room. I’d not noticed the storm that had begun raging outside; it was there, scratching and clawing the windows of the cottage. “No,” I answered, sitting up. “Not really.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice strangely seductive, raspy, deep.
I strained to see him. “Foster kid. You know, in the system? A ward of the state. I was shuffled around from one foster home to another until I was eighteen. Then, I was on my own.”
Lucian was quiet for some time before answering. “It’s better if you’ve no family, no one to miss you,” he said, and moved closer. I could see nothing more of him than an outline; yet I felt his gaze hard on me. “No previous life ties.”
“What’s it like?” I asked out of nowhere, intensely curious about what my body was going through.
Again, Lucian was quiet. “As your body changes, your senses will heighten. Your hearing mostly and sense of smell. You’ll gain mortal strength – which you’ll have to learn control over – as well as your wolf self.”
I considered that; it was hard to take in. A myriad of random thoughts hit me at once. “Where am I supposed to live?” I asked. “How the hell will I earn money? Support myself?” Those along with a million other thoughts crowded my brain. “This is insane,” I muttered under my breath. “Not happening.” I rose and walked to the single window facing the moors; a red hue illuminated the night sky.
Then, Lucian was there, behind me, not touching but so close I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “Aye, ’tis happening,” he said, his voice low, and his breath brushed the side of my neck and made me shiver. “You will say goodbye to your old life, Ms Slater, mourn its loss, and get over it.” His hands grasped my shoulders and turned me around. His eyes flashed silver in the filtered light. “This is your life now.”
The way Lucian’s illuminated gaze bore into mine mesmerized me. I know it sounds crazy, but I felt as though I’d known him my whole life. And, as strange as it sounds, even before then. We stood in the shadows of the bothy – I had no idea what time it was – and stared. I’m not sure if he waited for my acceptance, or a reaction, or if we were simply trapped in a powerful moment. I didn’t care. There was a palpable, physical attraction – so strong it felt feral and unlike anything I’d ever experienced. He hadn’t released my shoulders, but his grip loosened and now, it felt intimate and hesitant at once. I wasn’t sure if my new senses had kicked in, or if it was because we stood so close, but I could hear Lucian’s heart beat. It was a strong, steady sound that reverberated inside my head and overpowered every other sound in the room. His hands slid from my shoulders to the column of my throat, then cradled my face. My heart beat quickened.
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he said again, his brogued, raspy voice low and strained. “But once you were, I knew I could never let you leave.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I wanted to touch him, but I kept my hands balled into fists, hanging at my sides.
His thumbs grazed my jaw. “MacLeod wolves mate for life,” he said, his head lowering. “We’re marked from birth, as are our mates. Sometimes, the pair never encounters, and they spend eternity at a loss,” he nuzzled my neck with his chin, whispering in my ear. “The mark at your left shoulder blade,” his lips brushed the shell. “I’ve an identical one. Destiny brought you here, Gin, to me, and I’m verra sorry – I couldna let you go.”
I stared up at him, entranced, excited, completely drawn to him. “You bit me on purpose,” I said softly, and I knew the answer before it came.
“Aye,” he said against my ear. “I did.” He nuzzled me again, his cheek to mine. “’Twas the only way to make you mine.”
Timidly, I lifted my hands to rest against his chest, and then slipped them higher, to encircle his neck. Gently I tugged him closer.
I didn’t have to ask for anything else.
Lucian’s mouth found mine, settled there and lingered; he breathed deeply, and his heart’s pace quickened. With a gentle nudge, he pushed my lips open with his, our tongues touched, and a low groan escaped his throat as he pulled me hard against him and kissed me. Desperation laced every taste; agonizing, intense sexual attraction raged within him – I could feel it. It raged within me, as well, and I fell against him, dying to be closer, feeling as though we were already one, needing more.
Lucian, as though he could read my thoughts, walked me backward, our mouths never parting and together we fell to the bed. My clothes burned me, I wanted them off, and Lucian obliged. I felt out of control, and I grasped his shirt and yanked hard; buttons flew, and I pushed the material off. He managed his jeans, and barely fast enough. Finally, nothing separated us and Lucian moved on top of me, his weight pressing into my body; I revelled in the feel of it.
He looked down at me, h
is face sharp planes and shadows. Bracing his weight with his elbow, his other hand lifted to my face. With his fingers, he traced my lips, my chin, my throat. “You’re mine, Ginger Slater,” he said. He lowered his head and brushed my lips. “Mine,” he whispered hoarsely against them, and my heart raced, my breath quickened, and I shoved my hands into his hair and kissed him hungrily. Lucian groaned and kissed me back, starving, his touch desperate and everywhere, and I wrapped my legs around his waist and opened for him; he took me, pushed deep inside of me, filled me.
“Lucian,” I whispered against his mouth. “You’re mine.”
He sighed, whispered – a language I did not know, words unfamiliar to my ears, then kissed me and began to move; slow at first, then becoming frantic, as though he couldn’t get enough, and I matched his rhythm with my own frenzied moves. The orgasm started deep within my core, slowly built through every sensitive nerve-ending in my body, and then shattered within me; a thousand shafts of light splintering into tiny specks behind my eyes. I held on to Lucian as he followed. I felt his orgasm grow, explode, and he wrapped both arms around my body and held me as our releases calmed, our heartbeats slowed. He rolled on to his back and dragged me atop him, my breasts resting against his chest, our skin melding into one. He lifted a hand to my cheek; his thumb grazed the line of my jaw, then he slid his hand around my neck and pulled my mouth to his and kissed me long, slow, erotic. His other hand slipped over my buttocks, my back, and settled in the lower curve there, holding me firmly in place. Then, he broke the kiss and looked at me for several moments.
“I couldna just let you go,” he said quietly.
I traced his full lips with my index finger. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”
We needed no more words; just our bodies melding, our hands exploring, our mouths tasting. We joined again, slower this time, so much slower, seductive, both of us silently claiming the other. Finally, we slept.
It was the only night I slumbered without nightmares of Pax.
