Luna felt the blood drain from her face and her stomach dropped. “There are vampires?” she asked, incredulously. “Around here?”
Chase reached out and placed an arm around her back, the other snaking beneath her knees, and lifted her against his chest without any effort. A small gasp escaped the confines of her mouth as he strode out of the room and towards the kitchen, her feet daggling a few inches off the ground. Warmth radiated from his body, seeping into Luna’s skin providing a comfort she hadn’t realised she needed. She wrapped her arms around his neck, thankful she didn’t need to climb the stairs right then.
“Not now,” he told her, his tone warm like thick honey. “This part of the country has been werewolf territory for centuries. One or two will pass through every few years on the way to whatever city they’re heading to, but for the most part they stay away. Vamps and wolves don’t mix.” He grinned down at her as he sat her on one chair at the table. “You’d be surprised at what’s out there, hidden in the shadows.”
“At the moment, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a man-eating giant hidden in the woods,” she muttered as Chase placed her injured leg onto another chair. She watched him potter from one side of the room to the other, searching the cupboards and drawers. “Was that thing really a god?” she asked, nerves coating the edge of the words.
Chase shook his head, slamming a drawer shut, not finding whatever it was he was looking for. “No, not a god, no matter what he said. He’s fae, and if he’s got the long girlie hair to his ankles, then it means he’s an old one. Those who were left behind when the veil fell tend to stick to England and Ireland, the Old Country, but there’s not many of them.”
“The veil?” Luna asked, her brows knitting in confusion.
Chase waved a dismissive hand at her before giving out a triumphant cry and grabbing a small box. “Nothing important to humans. The fae possess great magic and physical strength, but they’ve got a bad reputation for jealousy and stealing things, including people. Not much can hurt them except iron. That’s why his skin burned when you hit him with the tire iron.” One side of his mouth curved upwards and he winked at her. “Clever girl, but next time just run. It’s better to face a vamp than a fae. You’ve got a much better chance of survival.”
“Why don’t werewolves and vampires get along?” Luna asked softly. Her eyes remained locked on Chase’s face as he lifted her leg, sat down, and placed it on his lap. Only when she heard the snipping sound of the scissors did she realise Chase had started cutting her jeans to gain access to the wound. A first aid box sat on the table beside a bottle of vodka.
It wasn’t Baileys, but it would do.
It only took him a minute to remove the material and expose her leg. Dried blood stained the skin, mixed with dirt. How on earth did a leaf get down there? Luna wondered as he threw it to the floor. The bruises stretched further than what she originally thought, and pain trickled along each nerve ending as Chase lifted her leg slightly and examined it.
“Not too bad, thankfully,” he told her, reaching for the box. He pulled out a tub of antiseptic wipes and some gauze. After the first wipe of her knee, he continued explaining. “We’re too dominant to get along. We’re both hunters, predators. They say that we used to be friends. Hell, some legends even go as far to say that the first werewolf and vampire were brothers. How much is true and how much is myth? Couldn’t tell you honestly. All I know is that there’s a long bloody history between us and it’s not likely to end anytime soon.”
If anyone had asked her a week ago what she’d be doing right then, having a conversation about the relationship between vampires and werewolves would be the last thing on a very long list. More questions circled in her mind, but she couldn’t place one on her tongue. Everything seemed so confusing, so complicated.
Everything had changed.
The world would never look the same way again.
Chase’s strokes were gentle as he wiped away the stains of blood and dirt. Her body relaxed under his touch. His behaviour seemed different from when they had first met. Hard and brash on one side, gentle and considerate on the other. An enigma.
And all within twenty-four hours.
The pain dulled to a more bearable ache. “How are werewolves made?” she asked, her voice low and steady.
Chase’s gaze flickered back to her face before returning to her leg. “Werewolves are born. We’re not made.”
“So why aren’t I one? Am I adopted?” she finally asked, trying to ignore the warmth that pooled on her skin beneath the tender caress of his fingers.
“Only the first child of a werewolf is born with the ability to shift,” he replied, keeping his voice neutral, as if he knew his words had the capacity to hurt her. “Your father was the eldest child of a werewolf. Michael was his. You’re the second child, princess. Means that you got to be human.” Grabbing another wipe, Chase turned his attention to the corner of her mouth. Luna hissed as it passed over a particularly tender spot. “My father was one. Mom ran away when she found out she was pregnant and ended up here. Your father was the leader, the alpha of the Silver Moon pack. She became friends with your mother, and I joined when my beast emerged.”
The Silver Moon pack ... unbelievable.
Chase’s fingers moved over Luna’s jawline, searching for any other injuries, stirring an emotion she’d not expected. She clenched her thighs together, forcing herself to ignore the heat gathering at her core. “So, you don’t change into a wolf as a baby?” she asked, swallowing hard.
Chase’s fingers stopped for a second and inhaled before shaking his head. “The wolf starts to come out when you’re around five or six. It’s hard to control at first. You switch from wolf to human constantly. It’s exhausting and when we’re human, you’re so damn hungry all the time. We tend to eat a lot, especially meat.”
“Michael loves his steak blue,” Luna remarked, recalling how her brother’s bloody preference.
Chase nodded and set the wipes down. After packing the rest of the contents away in the box, he reached for the vodka, taking a large swig. “Yep, most of us like it that way, even as kids.” Those chocolate brown eyes turned back to her and his mouth curved into a smile. “Did you know you used to try and follow us in the woods at night? You found us one time, changing. Michael ran over to you and started licking your face. You were only four at the time. You screamed like a banshee. I swear you gave your father a heart attack.”
Luna seized the bottle out of his hand and took a long swallow. The liquid burned her throat as it slid down, and she concentrated on it instead of the way how Chase sounded as he laughed at the memory. No one’s voice had the right to sound rich and wicked, as if dark chocolate could be melted and heard. She swallowed more. Normally, she preferred Baileys or wine, but after today, vodka would do.
Silence hung between them and Luna closed her eyes. Things became clearer in her mind as she recalled her childhood here. Not much floated back all at once, but impressions emerged - baking, colouring, crafts, all within the kitchen, at the same table she sat at now. The scent of pine and oak fluttering on the breeze as her father and Michael walked into the house.
The sound of howling echoed between her ears, a distant memory from what seemed like a lifetime ago. Of nights drenched in darkness and shadows, huddling under the covers listening to the song of wolves sweetening the air.
Things began to make sense, although much remained cloaked in secrecy. If what Chase said was true – and every word of it rang true in her gut – then that meant her family had been werewolves since the beginning, although how far that was, she couldn’t even begin to imagine.
But she would never become one herself.
Disappointment rippled through her at the thought. Whilst the thought of eating raw meat didn’t sound particularly desirable, the notion of running through the forest on all fours and howling at the moon had a certain appeal to it.
But it wasn’t hers to enjoy.
It was Michael’s
legacy.
This must be the reason why I was sent away, she thought, taking another long swallow. She grimaced at the notion of a four-year-old child reacting at her brother transforming into another creature. Perhaps I couldn’t cope with what the family were, and they sent me away to protect me.
Weariness descended upon her and a tear trickled over the corner of her eye. Warmth slid over her skin as Chase’s finger gently brushed it away, resting his palm on her cheek.
Luna opened her eyes. Emotion burned in his gaze, the flecks of gold in his eyes swirling with heat. Her eyes dropped to his mouth and her own pressed together.
Slowly, Chase’s fingers lifted her head upwards, forcing her eyes to meet his again. The heat of his touch seeped into her skin, dancing along her body. It ran over her cheek, past her lips, down her neck and further beyond. Despite the effort, Luna couldn’t move her gaze from his.
Time stopped and matched her heart as his face drew closer.
Chase’s lips descended, claiming the last few millimetres separating them. At first, his mouth was gentle, feather-light, producing a moan to slip from Luna’s mouth. Then his tongue forced her to open her mouth and the gentle caress transformed into a devouring possession. So much heat, so much passion contained within his touch.
Luna surrendered and allowed the heat to consume her.
Eleven
Chase’s lips moved expertly across Luna’s, stirring the need within her. Heat ran across her mouth, seeping within her body and blooming throughout. Luna inched closer, her tongue dancing with his.
More, she needed more.
Chase’s hands cupped the sides of her face, as if refusing to let her break away.
Not that there was any chance of escaping. Luna was a prisoner, a willing captive seeking more. The sensations Chase wrung from her body was unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Logic faded and bled into pure, heated necessity.
One of Chase’s hands slipped from her face, gliding down to her neck, leaving a streak of heat where they travelled. She groaned, and Chase drank them down.
There was no thinking, no coherent thought to Luna’s mind. She raised a hand up and traced the hard line of his jaw. Fire charged her veins and shot right between her thighs. She ventured further and grabbed his hair, trying to draw him closer, as if she could possibly merge them into one being.
A muffled chuckle sang in her ears, but the adrenaline pounding through her veins drowned it out. She wanted more; more heat, more sensation. More everything.
Chase didn’t disappoint. Pulling away from her mouth, he trailed kisses along her jawline and down the side of her neck, nipping at the tender skin and producing smell yelps of exquisite pleasure from her. Luna threw her head back, surrendering to the magic of his touch as he lifted her onto the table and positioned himself between her legs.
He quickly removed her shirt and tank top, his lips never leaving her skin for more than a few seconds. Warm fingers cupped the swell of one breast, sending shivers coursing through her body. Luna wondered if she would explode as soon as they were skin to skin, or if she’d simply be reduced to a simmering puddle of liquid heat.
The next thing she knew her bra was flung to the side and Chase encouraged her backwards. Sensation flooded through her at the feel of Chase’s mouth suddenly on her nipple.
Nothing could have prepared her for the magic he worked on the tender bud. Each flick, each suck, sent a wave of heat throughout her body, pooling at her core. She wrapped her legs around his waist, her hips moving of their own accord. She tried to grab him, the urge to touch him overpowering, but he grabbed her hands and positioned them above her head.
“Don’t move,” he ordered, the gruffness to his tone oddly seductive. “Don’t touch me. Let me savour you the way you’re meant to be savoured.” His fingers traced down her arms, down her collarbone and over the curve of her breasts, the gentleness of his caress a stark contrast to his passionate kisses.
Luna sucked in a deep breath, her eyes closed. “Please, I need to touch you,” she whispered, then gasped as his fingers squeezed her nipples. Her core tightened, begging for release.
But Chase just shook his head. “If you touch me, princess, I don’t think I could control myself,” he told her, this voice thick with longing. His head bent over her breast and he claimed her left nipple for his own, his lips forceful and demanding.
Anymore and I’m going to explode.
Keeping his mouth on her pert bud, Chase’s fingers found the zip of her jeans. In one swift motion, he had both them and her underwear off before Luna could finish her gasps. Opening her eyes, she gazed up, watching Chase stare down at her.
The warm brown of his eyes had bled into amber. Wolf eyes, Luna thought, hypnotised by their beauty. They should’ve scared her, sent her running away in panic, but the heat that radiated from them only encouraged her to jump into the fire.
She wanted the burn.
“Don’t be scared,” Chase whispered, his fingers stroking the sides of her folds.
“I’m not,” she replied, lifting her lips. The only thing she feared was that he’d stop.
Those beautiful amber eyes were the last thing she saw before she felt his mouth on the most intimate of places.
Nothing could’ve prepared her for the heat and exquisiteness of what he did to her. Words were useless, even if she possessed the breath to speak. Waves of pleasure built beneath the movement of Chase’s tongue, his fingers digging into her hips, holding her in place as he continued his wickedness.
The waves continued to rise, higher and higher. The world faded away into nothing but sensation and pleasure. Groans rang within her ears, but Luna couldn’t be sure whether they were hers or his. Not that it mattered.
The waves grew higher, deeper, pushing her to the very edge of her limit. Desire threatened to drown her. With one last flick, Chase sent the waves crashing, and Luna sank within an ocean of pleasure. Cries tore from her mouth, primitive and wild, as he kept his mouth over her core, never moving until her body finally collapsed beneath him.
“Fuck,” came Chase’s voice, thick and husky with satisfaction. “I’ve never known a taste like this. You’re so damn sweet, like honey-drenched strawberries. I may be a werewolf, but you taste like magic.”
But Luna couldn’t agree. Chase’s words held magic. They swirled around in her blood, sweeping sensation and desire through her body. No one had ever spoken to her like that, not even Pierre the first time they made love.
Her body stilled and ice swept through her.
Pierre.
Oh shit. Luna sat upright. Guilt slammed into her like a fist. Pierre. What have I done?
Luna couldn’t look up and meet Chase’s face, but she could feel the concern in the gentleness of his touch. “What’s the matter?” he asked, confusion spiking his tone.
But the words wouldn’t formulate in her mouth, and the silence between them lay thick and heavy, save for her breathing. Finally, after what seemed a lifetime, she finally took a deep breath and swallowed down the fear, remorse, and the lingering desire. “I can’t,” she whispered, her voice barely a whisper. “Pierre. I have a boyfriend. It’s not right to do that to him.” With each word, the guilt inside her chest grew, alongside the hatred she felt for herself.
Luna glanced up, forcing herself to meet Chase’s eyes. Amber eyes bled back to brown and his mouth drew into a thin line. The silence between them stretched into long agonising moments, but Luna could still feel the heat beneath the surface, simmering beneath the shame and self-loathing. Yet she knew she couldn’t go any further.
But she wanted to.
She desperately wanted to.
Slowly, Chase nodded, his fingers warm against her hips. “I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand.” Regret tinged the words, but Luna could hear the sincerity in them.
“I want to,” she blurted, embarrassment weaving through her tone along with the tattered remains of her longing. “But it wouldn’t be ri
ght to him. I shouldn’t have let it get to this point. I shouldn’t have done this to you. I ... I lost control. Of myself. I’m so sorry. Never in my life have I cheated -”
Chase placed a solitary finger against her lips. “It’s OK, princess. I understand. It was just a moment of temptation. You didn’t do anything bad. You stopped herself before you gave yourself completely.” The finger dropped. His face lowered, moving closer to her own. For a brief second, Luna wondered if he was going to kiss her again and hated herself at the rush of disappointment when he didn’t. “Though I damn well want you to,” he admitted.
With a blistering curse, Chase turned away and reached for the bottle of vodka. It was a miracle it hadn’t broke, Luna thought. She scrambled for her clothes, pulling on her underwear with shaky fingers as Chase took a long swallow.
“Years ago, I promised myself I’d never get involved with humans. Never bedded one in my life and yet you damn well nearly undid all my control.” Another swallow. “Whoever Pierre is, he’d better fucking appreciate you.”
Luna pulled up her jeans, fastening the button. The pain in her knee had died down to just a slight ache now. She glanced around for her tank top, spying it on the floor. “He’s nice. He’s a lawyer,” she said slowly, though she didn’t know why she said that. “He doesn’t deserve this.” Another wave of guilt crashed through her soul. A shiver followed.
Over the years, she’d watched in dismay as friends succumbed to temptation despite being in committed relationships. Heartache and pain followed every time. The few who’d attempted to salvage their relationships soon discovered that once the trust was gone, it never came back.
House of Wolves (Silver Moon Series Book 1) Page 9