by Elle Jasper
* * *
Over the course of the next week, Lucian slowly introduced me to my new world, my new body, my new senses. I’d not be able to master them all for some time; my hearing was exaggerated and sometimes hurt my ears and insides. My sense of smell was so good, it overwhelmed me and I couldn’t determine one smell from the other – except for Lucian’s scent. His was unique and solely Lucian’s and I could detect it a mile away. My strength and speed was immature but growing fast; almost too fast. I tripped, I fell, I hurled myself to speeds which my old body couldn’t handle yet. I busted my ass more times than I could count. But Lucian was right there to help me up.
Each night, we made love and fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Each night, I dreamt. Pax pursued me in his human form, always in a heavy mist, always through a dense wood. The white fog slipped through the trees and brush like long reaching fingers, and I ran hard, stumbling and not in control of my new speed and strength. Pax, for some reason, was. His white spiked hair appeared behind every tree, every rock, as though he toyed with me. And every time, he’d catch me, back me against the base of a tree. This is your fault, newbie. I’m here, trapped as an abomination, all because of you. I don’t know whether to thank you or rip your throat out. I’d awaken, shaking violently, breathless, just before Pax shifted into his wolf form and lunged at me, teeth bared. I kept the dreams from Lucian. I thought I could handle them, or that they’d just go away. I was so very wrong.
It was weird, mine and Lucian’s relationship. I felt completely at ease with him, as though we’d known each other forever. He’d had nearly three weeks to come to terms with the fact that I was his marked mate; I’d had about twenty-four hours. Still, I accepted it readily and willingly. It felt … natural, as though my life was to turn out no other way other than here, in the Highlands of Scotland, with an ancient Pict warrior-wolf. It felt even more natural to become one. I can’t explain it without sounding like a lunatic, but there you go.
Lucian and I left the bothy the last day of my transition and travelled north and west to the MacLeod stronghold. Situated on a sea loch, the massive grey stone fortress, complete with four imposing towers, dominated the seascape. It literally robbed my breath.
“You live here?” I asked incredulously. I glanced at him.
Lucian laughed, and reached over and grasped my hand. “Nay. We live here.”
My heart swelled at his words. We’d not exchanged the L-word yet; somehow, it just didn’t seem right. But we’d both claimed one another, and the word mine sounded nearly as powerful, if not more so, than the word love. There would be an adjustment period, for both of us. But of one thing I was absolutely positive: we were meant to be together.
Lucian pulled onto a single-track gravel lane that led to the massive front doors of the castle, and before we had the Rover in park, five big guys emptied the entrance and made their way towards us. All dark-haired, with bodies that looked like they swung axes and swords and kicked ass for a living. They made their way towards us.
Lucian glanced at me and laughed. “They won’t bite.”
I looked at him and raised a brow. “Doubt that.”
I climbed out of the Rover, slammed the door, and faced the MacLeods.
“Gin, my brothers. Arron, Raife, Christopher, Jacob, and Tristan.”
Arron walked up and embraced me; the others followed. “Welcome,” Arron said, his eyes flashing quicksilver.
“About time we had a lass around the place,” Jacob said, and the other laughed.
The MacLeods welcomed me, and as it was with Lucian, the same held true with his brothers. It felt like I’d known them my entire life.
The MacLeod fortress entailed no less than 200 acres and the shoreline, and inside the castle, a modernized habitat befitting of an ancient wolf clan of Pict warriors. Primeval mixed perfectly with contemporary. It was mind-numbing to think how long ago Lucian and his brothers were born; how long they’d lived.
They prepared me for my transition that night; in all honesty, there wasn’t much they could do except stand by and wait; help out if needed. Lucian warned me the first time was painful, and he apologised more times than I could count. He held me in his arms, kissed me, smoothed my hair from my face, and promised to not leave my side until it was over.
By nightfall, as the moon began to rise, Lucian and his brothers walked me to the shore line, encircled me, and waited. I immediately knew it had begun when my skin began to itch. I felt as though I wanted to crawl right out of it, and I clawed and scratched at my arms, my neck, my abdomen. My temperature rose, higher and higher until I thought I would self-combust. My skin was on fire, and I began to pull at my clothes. No matter that it was October in the Highlands; I was hot. I didn’t have time to yank them off, either. I felt my skeleton give way, the popping and rubbing sounds reverberating inside my head. I cried out in pain, and in my peripheral sight I saw movement and knew it was Lucian. He stopped abruptly, and didn’t advance further.
My heels and long bones shifted, elongated, contorted, and just when I thought I couldn’t take the pain and heat a second longer, I fell to the ground, let out a low, long, bay, and it was over. I leapt up, shook my body, and met the silver gazes of six other wolves, their shaggy dark coats glistening in the moonlight.
We ran that night, my new brothers, my mate and I. We ran from the west coast of Scotland clear to the east, along the shores of the North Sea, and it was invigorating, mind-freeing. My new body rocked with sensations and I wanted to keep running. I saw everything through my new eyes, and it was as though I saw the world for the very first time. Lucian ran beside me, his silvery blue gaze watching me closely. We spoke to each other in our minds. He never left my side. At some point, exhaustion overtook me, we made it home, and I fell hard asleep.
When next I woke, I was in my human form, tucked closely against Lucian’s body. The sun had not yet risen and I felt invigorated. I wanted to explore the shore, so I slipped from our bed, quickly dressed, and headed outside. No one else stirred. I was the only one awake.
The brisk Highland air greeted me, along with a healthy dose of mist. I found it strange not to be cold, but my core stayed at over 100 degrees, so there was no need for a jacket. I breathed in the air, sweet with clover and something else I couldn’t name, and I took in my surroundings. On the left side of the gravel lane, a meadow and at its edge, a dense copse of wood filled with towering pines and oaks.
Then, I saw it. Through the slender ribbons of mist I saw something white move into view. I stared, my newly sharpened vision trained on the spot. Before my brain registered what my eyes saw, I knew it. Pax. He waited for me. Without a thought, I took off towards him at a jog and by the time I reached the wood line, I was at a full run. Pax had disappeared.
I eased through the trees, the canopy above keeping out any light that may have filtered in, and I searched for Pax. Deeper into the wood I moved, determined to settle things with my old partner. Surely, no matter his fate or mine, we could come to terms. We’d been partners. We’d sort of been friends. He’d watched out for me. I knew, despite the awful dreams, he wouldn’t hurt me.
In the next instant something heavy slammed into my body and I was knocked hard against the base of an aged oak. I was turned abruptly and when I looked, the man who pinned me against the tree was not Pax. I frowned, shoved and cursed. “Get the hell off of me,” I growled and shoved my knee into his balls. “Now!”
He sucked in a breath but quickly recovered. “Oh, no, love,” he said, his accent thick, his tone full of hatred. He pushed me hard against the tree. “We’ve been waiting at the chance to get at Lucian MacLeod and his brothers and you’re it.” Without warning, he punched me – caught me right in the jaw and my head snapped back and slammed into the hard wood of the tree.
I glared at him. “He’ll kill you,” I said, my pitch lowering.
The man laughed. “Right. We’ll see about that.”
Four other men emerged from the wood. One
of them was Pax. He ambled up to me, his eyes laced with disgust. He pushed the guy away from me and leaned close to my ear. “You did this to me, newbie,” he said, just like in my dream. “I can never go home now. I’ll never see my wife again, thanks to you.” His breath brushed my neck. “I’ve half a mind to just rip your throat out now instead of letting these assholes use you to bait your mate.”
I met Pax’s hard glare. “Do it,” I said. “Stop talking about it and do it.”
A low growl escaped Pax’s throat, and in the next second he shifted into his wolf form. His fangs, dripping with saliva, hovered close to my ear and my throat. In my head, I imagined myself in my wolf form; nothing happened.
In the next second, in a flurry of fur and fangs, a pack of nearly-black wolves entered the wood at full speed. The men with Pax shifted and the fight began. I was knocked to a tree where I fell to the ground, crouched and watched.
I couldn’t make myself change. I was helpless.
The melee was horrific. Bones crunched. Blood. Cries of pain. No human words met my ears, but I heard them in my head.
Then, a large wolf with a band of white on his chest charged me. It was Pax. I knew it. And I was no match for him. I rose, my back against the tree, and kept my eyes trained on my old partner.
Just before he lunged, a large black wolf leapt from out of nowhere and slammed Pax to the ground. They fought; fangs gnashed, massive claws raked, bodies smashed into one another. The black wolf was Lucian – of that I had no doubt. With a final agonizing cry, Pax’s neck was broken, and Lucian – God, it was awful – tore into his throat.
Then it was over.
Lucian moved towards me, shifted and stood naked before me. He was covered in Pax’s blood. Anger radiated off of him. Anger and relief.
“Let’s go,” he said, and grasped my hand in his, threading his fingers through mine. “This is over,” he said, and squeezed my hand. “For now.”
Together, we walked back to the hall where Lucian bathed and got dressed. One of Lucian’s brothers cleaned up the aftermath while Lucian explained to me what was to come. I can’t say that I was shocked.
“I’m verra sorry about your partner,” he said, folding me into his embrace. He rubbed my back, a rhythmic motion that calmed me instantly. “He was no longer himself, you understand that?”
I nodded against his chest. “Yes.”
He looked at me long, searching my eyes. “There are others from all over the world, no’ just Scotia. We go where we’re needed. We fight to protect innocents. And you are one of us now, Gin. Your skills will grow and you’ll become as fast, as strong as I.” He kissed me then. When he pulled back, his gaze all but worshipped me. “But you’re not there yet, and I’ll no’ take any more chances with your life. You’re mine,” he whispered against my mouth, then brushed his lips across mine. “And I’ll no’ leave your side until you have full control over all of your new powers.” He rested his forehead against mine. “I canna lose you, Gin. You’re mine forever.”
Lucian MacLeod then completely enveloped me in his arms, pressed his mouth to mine and kissed me long and slow, his tongue brushing mine, causing my heart to race, my breath to catch. I kissed him back. Again, he mouthed the words against my lips that he’d said the first night we’d made love. I pulled back and looked at him.
“What does that mean?” I asked, nipping at his lower lip.
The intense longing in his eyes made my knees weak. “It means I’ve found you, my love, at long last.” He smiled, kissed me and nuzzled my neck. “I’ve waited centuries for you, Gin Slater,” he said softly. “My warrior wolf. My mate.”
As he drew me into another long kiss, I knew my life was forever changed. I didn’t know what it had in store, but I knew that as long as Lucian MacLeod was there with me, I could handle it. Gladly handle it.
It was the longest, most sensual kiss I’d ever experienced.
And he was all mine…
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