End Game (Bad Boy Football Romance) (Cocky Bastards & Motorcycles Book 6)

by Faye, Amy

  “The prophecies! You mean your visions when you were high off of weed laced with monkshood?! You're mad!” I yell, lunging forward.

  Aimar transforms back into a werewolf, lunging not for me but for Grant. Grant just barely steps out of the wolf's way, moving instinctively, his feet sliding across the dirt. He punches Aimar hard in the muzzle as the wolf leaps by him, sending the hound flying through the air.

  Grant circles the silver sword around him, light from the full moon glinting off of it as he faces the injured wolf. He lunges again, aiming for Grant's throat, his teeth tearing off a layer of flesh from Grant's neck.

  The full moon. Aimar is at full strength. Grant stands no chance.

  Aimar's growl goes deeper, his body seeming to grow larger as the moon moves higher in the sky. If I don't stop him, Aimar is going to kill Grant. I yell, fury and fear building within me, and my hands transform into paws, my face elongating into a wolf's muzzle.

  I slam my body against the white wolf, digging my claws into his ribs. He whines, high pitched, and whips his head back to get a bite of my arm. I leap back, then lunge into him again, my teeth digging into his ribs.

  He flips me over, onto my back, and bites my hind leg, straight through the thigh. I howl, struggling to get away from his teeth.

  I see the flash of moonlight off of silver, and just barely duck my head before Grant hacks into Aimar. The white wolf tries to move out of the way, but is much too slow and focused on killing me. The sword hits his spine. Aimar kicks out, sending Grant flying and into a tree. Grant doesn't move.

  Filled with lunar power and blood lust., I finish my job, biting into Aimar's heaving chest and devouring his heart. I eat it, whole, giving him exactly what he wanted to give to me. A painful death. He whimpers as the light in his eyes go out, his blood spilling into the soil.

  Chapter 8

  I scrub my face in the cool water of Nymfi lake, struggling to get the blood off of it. I killed him. I killed him and ate his heart. I don't feel more powerful.

  I just feel like I want to be sick.

  The water hitting my face has just started running clear when I feel someone touch my shoulder. I freeze, whipping my head around to look at whoever dares to stop me from cleaning myself. I'm still murderous, drunk with energy and hatred and the urge to kill.

  The touch comes from Grant. Beautiful, kind Grant, the werewolf hunter that treats a werewolf too kind. My savior.

  He stoops down and wraps his arms around me, hugging me tight, and for a second the restriction is calming. I shut my eyes and breathe in his scent, willing my heart to beat in time with his. Then I feel overwhelmed, my nerves firing and my body aching to be free.

  I turn around and push Grant to the ground, standing over him. There is fear in his eyes at first, a look that stings when it's directed at me. I don't want him to fear me, damn it!

  When I take off the t-shirt he gave me, though, the look changes. He admires my body, looking over my tanned skin with approval. The rising tent in his pants tells me all I need to know about his consent. I undo his pants, and hope that in time he will learn: I either fuck, or I kill, and he probably prefers the fuck.

  I lower onto my knees above him, taking his rigid cock with my hand and guiding it towards my cunt. I stroke myself with it, pleasuring my clitoris with my face towards the sky, my bottom lip between my teeth.

  “Mmm,” I moan, swirling my hips as I play with him. He groans his approval, too.

  I guide his cock to the opening of my slit and slowly sit down on it, forcing him into me. He's still so damn big that it hurts, but the pain goes away almost instantly.

  I wonder how in the hell I managed to take it all last time, but I keep lowering myself until my ass sits against his balls. I lift myself up a bit, then push back down, repeating this until his cock was nice and wet and moved in and out of me easily.

  Grant presses his hips upward, and his cock hits my cervix. It hurts, but at the same time it feels so good. My eyes fly open. “Oh! Oh that's just right, do that again!”

  He pumps himself up into me as I move up and down on him, our movements perfectly timed so that Grant goes deeper into me than any man ever has before. I lean over him, dangling my tits over his mouth.

  Grant licks one of them as I push my wild red hair out of my face. He sucks the nipple into his mouth, kneading it with his lips and sending pleasure all through my body.

  “Oh fuck, oh fuck!” I cry, riding Grant harder. “I'm going to cum soon!” I yell to the sky, then I sit up straight with Grant's cock deep within me, and I cum. I cum so hard that my eyes shut involuntarily, my toes and fingers curl, and my thighs twitch around Grant's hips. With my pussy spasming around him, Grant cums, too. He spills within me.

  I groan, and then I lay on top of him, my anger long gone and replaced now with a sexual haze. “You really fucked my brains out,” I whisper, my mouth barely moving. He smiles.

  The haze transitions, eventually, to a calm sadness. Aimar is gone, and though I am disgusted with myself for eating his heart, I no longer have to worry about him finding me and killing me over a stupid prophecy.

  I'll have to claim the rest of his pack, become their alpha, but save that for tomorrow. Tonight, I lay on Grant's chest, his prick still within me as our breathing slows under the full moon. I begin to weep, my face buried into his shoulder.

  “Susi? Are you okay?” He asks, gliding his hand over my hair.

  “I don't want to bring my mess into your life. Alice is only barely okay, and she got cursed because of me.”

  Grant is silent for a moment, and then a sigh. “I have a feeling that, whether or not you found us, we would have ended up dealing with something like this. I believe in fate, and I think yo

  I cry harder at that, to think that I had no choice but to ruin his life and nearly kill his precious daughter! Hukka, shoot an arrow through my heart now so that I may never bring harm to them again!

  He takes me by the shoulders and shakes me lightly. Hesitating, I look up into his evergreen eyes.

  There isn't one drop of hatred or disdain, no fear nor wrath. Just warmth and forgiveness. Just a man that thinks fondly of me.

  “I don't blame you, silly wolf. I never wanted a normal life, anyway.” He kisses my forehead. “Besides, I'm sure that Alice is just fine now that Aimar is dead.” He presses his lips against the top of my head, gently, like a butterfly landing on a flower.

  “So, you up for dinner with me this weekend?”

  I jump up in surprise, looking down at this beautiful man. “Are you serious?”

  “Of course I'm serious! I have to get to know a woman I've made love to three times.” He winks, standing up and helping me up with him. He pulls me in for another embrace, sweet and soft and full of promises for the future.

  Good promises. I like these sorts of promises.

  “Come on, then, before we get sidetracked again. I haven't felt like this since I was a teen!”

  “Me neither!”

  “Hey, speaking of, how old are you?”

  I laugh as we pass by Nymfi lake, on our way to find Alice and Elette.

  Oh great Lady of Lakes…

  Come to us and hear our pleas…

  Take from us our sorrows…

  Right the wrongs done to us…

  A line of 23 ancient men and women in robes gather around the lake, its waters dark and foreboding. Their chant carries through the trees, seemingly echoed by every bird and animal nearby. Amplified with power and magic sourced from thousands of years ago.

  Their movements go from slow, fluid dancing to erratic thrusting and seizing, their hands high in the air. The air around them sizzles with electricity, becoming thicker with mist.

  Their movements come to a climax with shrill cries from a woman, only 15 and pure of blood and heart, is thrown into the lake. A particularly old looking man, his beard reaching past his knees, draws a bow towards the sky and lets loose a single arrow.

  It hits its mark, straight
through the heart of the young woman. She cries once more, then sinks to the bottom of the lake.

  The lamps around the shore burn pink, then a bright and sinister red. A light emanates from the center of the lake, and from its depths comes a woman without a drop of water on her. She is entirely white, from her clothes, to her skin, to her hair. The only thing that isn't white is her glowing, golden eyes.

  The Lady of Lakes has risen.

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