Wolf's Promise

by Elyce de Reefe

  She was laughing and breathless by the time the song ended with a flourish, Aaron dipping her dramatically to applause. Cray copied him one beat later with a laughing Elizabeth, and Jesse followed suit with Elizabeth’s mother. Who was also laughing—and probably a little breathless, too.

  The guys hadn’t let the uneven numbers keep them from the dance floor, dancing with Elizabeth’s aunt, her mother, her college friends, and both her cousins. Lyla was pretty sure that at least for the female guests, it had been one of the best weddings they’d ever been to. The men did look great in their tuxes.

  She hadn’t missed the fact that no one except Lucas danced with Mari. It wasn’t obvious, there was a lot of group dancing, and Mari had been pretty good at avoiding the slow songs. But after careful observation, Lyla decided that Elizabeth was right. Lucas definitely had a thing for Mari. The way Lucas unobtrusively watched Mari, and Mari skillfully avoided him, was like a dance in itself. Lyla smiled. Both times he had managed to get her out there for a slow song, he’d kept a polite distance between them. Mari had looked pink and flustered, but happy, too.

  As things began to wind down, Lyla took in a breath of fresh night air. It had been a beautiful, fun wedding, a perfect evening, and Elizabeth had just glowed throughout. Lyla was so happy for her. And so grateful—not to mention a little overwhelmed—that she was a part of it all.

  Just a few weeks ago her life had consisted of working all day alone in the store, worrying if she could keep it in the black for a few more months, and then going home and eating dinner by herself. And now she had this. Her heart felt full.

  Chapter 29

  Lyla hiked down the dirt path in the pitch dark, trying to convince herself this was really a good idea. Maybe she should have waited until next month after all. If it hadn’t been for the wedding, she could have started out while it was still light, early evening at the latest, and at least been able to see. Well, she could see a little, thanks to the dim light of the glow stick Gage had pushed into her hand. He had stopped her just before she stepped out the back door to meet Lucas and Aaron for her Moonrise Ceremony.

  “Here Lyla, take this glow stick. Take the flashlight too,” he said, handing her that as well. “You might need it. I know humans don’t see as well in the dark, and since it is the new moon, it’s very dark. But be careful, the flashlight will completely ruin your night vision. Everything outside the circle of light will be completely black. The glow stick might be better.”

  He’d been right. The flashlight made her feel more vulnerable, turning the shadows into dark, impenetrable blackness that felt almost menacing. She’d turned it off and stuck to the glow stick’s feeble light. She’d been surprised and deeply touched by the thoughtful gesture. She hadn’t really had much interaction with Gage beyond the necessary pleasantries exchanged by people living in the same house. But clearly he had been thinking of her. Out here all alone, in the dark.

  At least she would be alone until Aaron caught her. Yes, caught her. Apparently, part of the whole Moonrise Ceremony involved the symbolic capture of the mate, something that had not been disclosed until she was standing at the edge of the forest wrapping a fuzzy pink scarf around Aaron’s white furry ruff. Because, of course, he would be chasing her in wolf form. Lucas took the ends of the scarf from her, holding it like a leash.

  “Run, Lyla,” he said, his soft French accent blurring the words. His quiet, serious tone sent a chill through her. And she ran.

  Aaron whined, and Lyla cast a quick glance behind her before slipping under the sheltering canopy of the trees. The image of Lucas standing on the edge of the lawn, legs braced apart, holding the pink scarf in both hands as Aaron—now a huge white wolf—strained against it, was something she’d never forget.

  These werewolves sure take their ceremonies seriously. No, that wasn’t fair. Lucas was being extra thorough for her sake. She needed a strong bond. He had explained it to her, standing there under the stars, in his careful, methodical way. How the bond protected her, and why a weak bond could be a danger. And then he’d apologized.

  “Lyla, I am sorry I judged you unfairly. I let my prejudice against your people sway me instead of trusting the instincts of my Second. Instead of judging you on your own actions. Those actions proved me wrong. Thank you for your assistance in bringing our Elizabeth safely back to us.”

  And then, while Lyla stood there stunned and speechless, he took one of her hands is both of his.

  “Welcome to the Rabbit River Pack.”

  His words had an odd, hollow echo to them. Lyla felt a blast of power wash over her. But it wasn’t a hostile force. It wrapped around her, enfolding her, and Lyla actually felt a warm sense of welcome. Of inclusion. While she was still standing there, probably gaping like a fish, he smiled.

  “You will be an asset to the Pack.”

  And that hit her right in the gut. No one had considered her an asset in anything in a very long time. Probably not since her parents died. The formal words of the ceremony followed—which she didn’t really catch, since she was still reeling—but she was conscious that it was only a line or two. And the next thing she knew, Aaron had changed to his wolf form and Lucas was telling her to run.

  But that had been almost twenty minutes ago. Surely Aaron would catch up soon? She had long since settled back to a walk. She glanced around at the dimly lit path. At least with the glow stick she could see the bushes and undergrowth at its edges, but the forest beyond was still an impenetrable wall of blackness. She tried not to think about running into a bear out here. No one had mentioned that possibility, so hopefully that meant there weren’t any bears around. Then again, no one had mentioned the whole ‘chase you through the woods like the big-bad-wolf’ part either, so…

  She heard a rustling behind her and almost dropped the glow stick.

  “That had better be you, Aaron Masters. And you had better believe this is the last time you will catch me hiking through the woods in the middle of the night. Whoever came up with this as your pair-bonding ritual should have their head examined.”

  Aaron’s large form emerged from the darkness, the light of the glow stick turning his white fur an eerie yellowish green color. His mouth was open in a pant, his tongue lolling out between sharp white teeth in what looked very much like a grin. He barked once and continued towards her, crowding her along the path and nosing her rudely when she failed to move quickly enough.

  “Hey. Stop that. Your nose is wet.” She wiped her hand on her pants. Dog slobber. How romantic. But he ignored her, herding her insistently along down the path.

  “Okay, okay. I’m going.”

  They continued on that way, Aaron padding along at her side, which made her feel considerably better about the bears, should there be any. After a short while, he used his body to shoulder her off the path, gently, she had to admit, and he was careful to keep his cold wet nose to himself. But now she was picking her way through the woods, which she was not wild about. Still, it was his ceremony. He probably knew how to do it.

  They were heading towards the river. She could hear the gurgle of the water getting louder, and… Wait. What was that?

  It seemed like she could see a faint glow up ahead. They were approaching a grove of birch trees, their white bark easily distinguished in the dark. And yes, there was definitely something glowing in there. She glanced back at Aaron, but he didn’t seem concerned. She moved cautiously forward, ducking under a low hanging branch, and—

  Lyla caught her breath. The grove opened up to a small hollow surrounded by ferns, and in the center sat a—well, not quite a bed, but definitely a mattress, or possibly an air mattress—complete with pillows and a comforter, and most impressive of all, gauzy white mosquito netting draped over it like some kind of fairytale pavilion. An old-fashioned lantern sat on a large rock, its flickering light giving the whole scene a soft ambiance. It was the most romantic thing she had ever seen.

  She turned to see a now-naked Aaron approaching her through th
e ferns, the pink scarf still wrapped around his neck.

  “Did you do this?” She couldn’t quite keep the incredulity out of her voice.

  He grinned. “Do you like it?”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  “You’re beautiful.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I wanted to make it nice for you.”

  “Well, you succeeded. But Aaron, you left a lantern burning?”

  “No, of course not. It’s LED.”

  “Oh. Right.” She should have known. Like Aaron would ever take a chance on starting a forest fire. “Well, it’s lovely.”

  “Good,” he said. “Let’s get you undressed and inside then.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. “The mosquitoes can be murder down here by the water.”

  Lyla’s laugh cut off in a squeak when Aaron ripped her blouse right down the front.

  “Aaron!”

  “It’s traditional.” He winked, and her heart turned over.

  Aaron, standing there naked, being playful—with that ridiculous pink scarf draped around his neck.

  It was almost too much. Lyla squeezed her eyes shut, trying to rein in her emotions, and then she realized, there was no need. She opened her eyes to find Aaron smirking at her.

  “Do you want me to do the pants too?”

  “Um, no. That won’t be necessary. I’d like to have some clothing to walk home in.”

  She pushed him back with one hand on his warm, furry chest and kicked off her shoes. She stepped out of her pants, folding them neatly. She’d tuck them into the tent away from the bugs. “Does that meet with your requirements?”

  His eyes were soft as he stepped in closer. “Mmm,” he said into her neck, sliding her ruined shirt off her shoulders. And then there she was, standing half naked in the woods, only her camisole and panties protecting her from the elements. Well, and her socks. It might not be quite the image she’d been going for, but she wasn’t stepping on who-knew-what in her bare feet.

  She squeaked as he slipped his arm behind her knees and lifted her up. “This is traditional too, right?” He carried her over to the bed, threw back the mosquito netting, and placed her gently down on the bed.

  “Um. I guess. If you consider that carrying me over the threshold.”

  Aaron shrugged, still grinning. “Close enough.” He reached over and pulled the netting back in place. Then he settled down over her, caging her in. “Now is when I kiss you. Right? That’s part of the tradition?”

  Lyla was laughing when his lips met hers, but not for long. It was a sweet kiss. A tender kiss. A promise. He leaned up on an elbow and traced the line of her lips. His eyes were serious, and he was absolutely adorable with that fluffy pink scarf still looped around him like some kind of crazy fashion statement. Lyla’s stomach fluttered. His hand left her mouth and went to the scarf, pulling it from around his neck.

  “Are you ready for this, Lyla?” He held up the scarf.

  “Yes.” She couldn’t quite control the wobble in her voice. It shouldn’t be possible to experience fear at what looked like someone’s lovingly hand-knit scarf, but she managed.

  The skin around Aaron’s eyes went tight. “I’m not going to hurt you, Lyla.”

  She nodded.

  He wrapped the wool gently around her wrists, pulling it just tight enough that it wouldn’t fall off. Lyla’s breathing picked up. Her whole body went stiff. Aaron paused. He’d been about to wrap the scarf around the wooden pole he’d staked at the head of the bed. He was planning to tie a slip knot. Something that it could be released with one quick tug if she got nervous. She knew that. They’d discussed it. At length. But this was so much harder than she’d imagined.

  Her body reacted to the feel of the fabric around her wrists. It didn’t matter that it was soft, stretchy fabric. It didn’t matter that she knew—knew—Aaron would never hurt her.

  Her breath was coming in short little gasps. She couldn’t relax enough to fill her lungs.

  Aaron muttered something under his breath and pulled the scarf from her wrists. Flinging it aside, he pulled her ridged body into his arms.

  “Damn it! I knew we should have practiced this.”

  For some reason, that made her laugh, her body relaxing all at once. The heat of Aaron’s hard, familiar body seeped into her, his bare skin warm and reassuring. She ran her hands up the silky smoothness of his back, enjoying the play of muscles as he held her wrapped securely in his arms.

  “It’s okay, Lyla. We can wait. We have all night. The moon won’t set until five forty-six.” He kissed her cheekbone and then nuzzled the side of her neck. He still avoided the injured side, although the stitches had come out over a week ago.

  “Here,” he said, “lie back. I’ll give you a backrub.”

  “Aaron, I know about your backrubs. Let’s just do this. It’s just a physical reaction. Muscle memory. That’s all. Go ahead. Tie me up—” She blinked her lashes at him, “—big boy.”

  That got the laugh she was hoping for, and then a tender smile she didn’t think she’d ever seen before. Slowly, he wrapped the pink scarf around her wrists, gently pulling the coils tighter. She tried to stop it, but she could feel every muscle in her body begin to lock up.

  Aaron ripped the scarf from her wrists, an expression of disgust on his face. “I can’t do it,” he said, turning away. “I can’t stand to make you feel like that.” He ran a hand through his short hair, looking out at the night.

  He sat there, motionless beside her for a long moment, his beautiful back a study in defeat. She ran her hands up his lats, up over his shoulder blades to the base of his neck, and then down over his impressive shoulders. She never tired of looking at his sculpted back. At his scalped everything. He was a true Adonis.

  My Aaron. She sighed and pressed her check to his back. She snaked her hands around his chest and pulled him tight.

  “Aaron,” she started, wondering what she could do to make this right. She ached to see him hurting like this. She knew he blamed himself, but it wasn’t his fault. And she could do this. She knew it. She just had to get past that initial reaction. Once he started touching her, she was sure her body would recognize the feel of him, and it would be okay.

  “Maybe you could tie me up,” he said suddenly. “Maybe that would be enough for the bond.” He turned in her arms, waggling his eyebrows outrageously. “I could be your sex slave, and you could use me any way you wanted—”

  Lyla covered his mouth with her hand, cutting him off. But she couldn’t stop smiling. Imagining Aaron on his back—his eager body hard and ready, begging for her attention—

  The image had real appeal.

  Maybe another time…

  She shook herself. “I need to do this, Aaron. I need to put these ghosts to rest. And we need this bond to be strong. We can’t take chances on something that might be enough.”

  She drew in a deep breath and let it out.

  “I trust you, Aaron. I do. I can do this.” She put a little steel in her voice. “I will do this. And you are going to pretend to believe me— and just do it. Okay?”

  Cautiously, she pulled her hand away to let him speak. He nodded. His expression was very serious. Hard even. Intent.

  Hot. Her pulse quickened, and for the first time, she felt a little tingle of awareness between her legs. A tingle of anticipation.

  Aaron huffed out a breath and reached for the scarf. This time he wrapped it quickly around her wrists and pulled it tight. Her heart raced and the tingles intensified. He pulled her arms over her head and tied it to the stake with quick, jerky motions. His expression was grim.

  She lay there, on her back, with her hands tied over her head like some virgin sacrifice, her heartbeat pounding in her ears and every nerve in her body on fire. Burning with anticipation.

  Holy shit.

  Slowly, carefully, he unbuttoned the tiny pearl buttons that ran down the front of her silk camisole. She was throbbing now between her legs, breathing in quick little pants. Aaron continued his wa
y down her shirt about halfway. She glanced down to see the gap revealed the white stretch lace of her bra. He gazed down at her for one tense moment and then met her eyes. With one quick motion, he ripped the camisole apart. Her breath whooshed out.

  Aaron stared down at her, his eyes intense, and then smoothed his hands over her breasts. He did it again, slowly, starting in the valley between them and rubbing his thumbs over her nipples as he went.

  “Ahhh,” she said, unable to hold back the sound.

  He looked back into her eyes then, and one by one, pulled the stretchy cups of her bra down, tucking them underneath each breast, forcing them up so that they were begging for attention. And then he kissed her. With her breast exposed to the cool night breeze, aching to be touched, he brushed his lips tenderly over hers, kissing down to her jaw, nibbling along it—which never in her life had she considered an erogenous zone—but she’d been wrong, so wrong—and then up to the sensitive skin just behind her ear. He nipped along her neck as his hands closed over her breasts, his fingers chafing her nipples, and sensation exploded through her body.

  He rubbed and played with them, not too rough, but not gentle either. As he nibbled down her neck, the sensation built and built. She found herself squirming and wriggling in an attempt to get him pressed against her where she needed him, but he eluded her.

  “Aaron,” she said breathlessly, and it came out almost like a whine.

  “Shhh,” he said, hovering just above her. “I’ve got you. You are giving yourself to me. You are giving me control. Let me do this right.”

  One hand left her breast and traveled down, the back of his fingers trailing along the bare flesh along her belly, making her shiver. He traced the line of her panties along her lower belly to her hip, his hand wrapping around it for a moment, stilling her motion. Holding her in place. She had a brief moment of déjà vu, but this time it didn’t make her panic. She understood his language of touch now and quieted her body, waiting. His hand slid obligingly across her belly and down to cup her through her panties.