by Knight, Gwen
She tilted her head to the side and closed her eyes at the feel of his lips, his teeth dragging lightly along her throat. She moved to turn herself in his arms, but he prevented her from it, placing his hands on hers and moving them to the edge of the kitchen counter. He gave her wrists a squeeze as if to tell her without words to keep them there, and she smiled.
So demanding. So sexy.
He drew his fingertips up her arms and over her shoulders, slipping them down the front of her body to grasp the hem of her top and lift it up over her breasts. She let her head fall back against his shoulder as he cupped her breasts, gently squeezing her nipples.
“Such a lovely body,” War murmured against her throat. “Are you wet for me, Em?”
She breathed out a chuckle that slid into a moan as he tweaked her nipples a little more firmly and sent a riot of sensations down her spine. “You can check for yourself.”
“I will.” He nipped her neck, bracing one arm under her breasts and sliding his other down the front of her pants. He cupped her sex through the thin material of the pants and ground his erection against her back. She was so tempted to take her hands off the counter and touch him, but being at his mercy for a little while, enjoying him being in charge of both of their pleasure, was exciting. Squeezing the edge of the counter until her knuckles turned white, she turned her head and kissed him.
The stubble on his cheeks was rough against her skin, his lips firm and demanding as his tongue plunged into her mouth and took possession of her. He pushed his hand inside her pants, his fingers sliding through her wet folds with a growl of approval. She tilted her hips, seeking more contact, but he kept the touching light, barely grazing her clit with each pass of his fingertips. Her skin tingled, and her body ached. He broke their kiss, sucking on her bottom lip.
“You’re intoxicating, Em.” His voice had gone low and growly.
“Just for you,” she whispered. Her voice was raw, need rising within her.
He slid two fingers inside her so slowly she thought she’d go insane. Her knuckles cracked as she gripped the counter. “Please, War.”
“I like you this way, love. Wet and needy. All mine. I want to do a hundred dirty things to you.”
“I want that too.”
He pressed the heel of his palm against her clit and curled his fingers inside her, rubbing her inner walls and adding sweet friction to her aching bud. His fingers grazed a place inside that made her let out a sharp gasp.
He chuckled against her throat and kept his fingers there, rubbing firmly until her vision blurred, and the center of her body went white hot.
“Come for me,” War demanded, his fingers moving impossibly fast against that spot, her body spiraling toward pleasure.
She couldn’t have stopped herself if she’d wanted to. It was too good, too much, too everything.
Shouting his name, she shuddered in his arms as she climaxed, pleasure arcing through her like lightning. He snarled and bit down on the side of her neck and pulled his fingers from her. Shoving her pants and underwear down, he spread apart her soaking folds and played with her clit, rubbing the sensitive bud in fast circles, driving her from one height of pleasure to another. Her knees went weak, and her voice cracked as another climax wove through her.
She finally let go of the counter, leaning back against him and cupping the back of his head. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her entire body on fire.
He turned her suddenly and set her on the counter, dragging her pants down her legs further and spreading her thighs apart. He undid his pants and freed his length, aligning himself with her core and plunging into her. She leaned back, grasping the side of the cabinet for leverage, keeping one hand over the top of his that gripped her hip with brutal intensity.
She was still humming with pleasure, her body clutching him as he pounded into her. He was the most intense she’d ever seen him, his eyes flashing to the amber of his wolf, fangs peeking from his parted lips. She’d never seen anything sexier.
Wiggling one foot free of her pants and underwear, she hooked her leg over his hip, pressing her knee to his side and changing the angle. They both groaned and he clenched his teeth. She wanted him to come inside her, to feel the possession of his pleasure.
He laid his thumb on her clit.
Her eyes opened and she let out a mewl of protest. Sweat slicked her brow, her hair matting to her face as he touched her exactly the way she loved. Despite the pleasure that still tingled in her bones, he drove her to another great height, his cock thrusting into her as his thumb circled and played with her, a riot of heat and pleasure exploding within her. This time when she came, she screamed his name and reached for him, looping her arms around his neck.
He let go, his cock pulsing as he came. He groaned and spoke her name, and then he lifted his head and howled. She shuddered against him. She wanted to say she loved him, but she couldn’t get her brain to work. It was too fogged with pleasure. Too blissed out. War had loved her so well, as only he could. Her alpha, her mate, her life.
He eased from her, and they both groaned. He kissed her brow and said hoarsely, “I didn’t make you go deaf, did I?”
She chuckled and rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m good.”
“Just good?” he teased.
“The best.”
He pulled her against him and left the kitchen, carrying her up the stairs to the bedroom. He stripped them both and climbed next to her, curling around her. She was positively drained, pleasantly numb, and sleepy.
“We can rest for a bit,” War said in a quiet voice. “We have time.”
“Did you set an alarm?” She closed her eyes and yawned.
There was a slight hesitation. “Yes.”
She drifted off to sleep, an unsettled feeling in her chest. She wanted to ask him why he hesitated before he confirmed he’d set an alarm, but she couldn’t keep her eyes open. She’d ask him when she woke.
* * *
Emma awakened slowly. She rolled to her back and stretched with a groan.
And then she realized she was alone in the big bed.
An oil lamp glowed on the nightstand and she sat up and looked around. War wasn’t in the room. She touched the space where he’d been and found the sheets cold. Her heart clenched, and a sick feeling settled in her stomach.
“War?” she yelled.
Scrambling off the bed, she dressed hurriedly and grabbed the lamp. She called his name at the top of the stairs and heard nothing in return. Rushing down the stairs, she listened for a moment and still heard nothing. No sounds of movement within the house. It was quiet. Empty.
She opened her mouth to call his name a third time when she heard a sharp bark.
Turning, she faced the sliding back door where a wolf stared at her. She recognized Ghost from the pale gray coloring of his fur. He jerked his head up, and she walked to the door, noticing that something was written on it.
Her heart sank as she read what War had written in grease pencil. I can’t risk your safety. The wolves won’t let you leave. I will come back to you. I love you.
“That son of a bitch!” she fumed, the female warrior part of her wanting to storm through the yard and make her way to the pack to aid them. War leaving her behind meant he wasn’t going to battle with the militia with weapons—only fangs and claws. Fear scrabbled at her spine and tears stung her eyes. War could die! She didn’t even get to say goodbye or argue why she should go.
Now she understood why he’d hesitated when she’d asked about the alarm. He probably didn’t even go to sleep. All those climaxes and lovemaking were meant to make her sleep deeply so he could leave without her waking. And it had worked, damn it.
She opened the slider and stared at Ghost. Beyond him, milling around the yard, she could see half a dozen wolves.
Ghost let out a curious bark.
“Yeah, I’m pissed. I know he left me here to keep me safe, but I need him to be safe too. I’m scared for him. Scared for the pack.”
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Ghost nodded in understanding.
She reached out and touched his head, feeling the connection to the pack between them.
“Screw it,” she snapped. She belonged with War, and these wolves belonged with their pack. One whole unit. She couldn’t believe War had weakened himself like this. He needed everyone on hand to beat Taylor.
Turning, Emma eyed the surrounding wolves, then marched into the house and grabbed the first gun she found. War might be alpha, but he’d been grooming her into one as well. Which meant it was time for her to take a stand.
“Ghost, can you track War?”
He huffed an agreement before pointing his muzzle toward the south woods.
“Good. Let’s go. And when I get my hands on that man. . .” Her words trailed off. Instead, she focused her anger into her own plan.
Ghost trotted forward and led them into the woods. With luck, they’d find War and the pack, save the day, and then she’d give her mate a piece of her mind.
12
There was no going back.
Emma would never forgive him for this, and he knew that. Deep down, he knew he’d done the right thing, but leaving had damn near destroyed him. Em was human. As much as she wanted to stand at his side, he couldn’t risk her life like that. The very thought of placing her in danger sickened him and enraged his wolf. It was his job—their job—to protect her. Even if that meant breaking her heart. She may never forgive him, but she’d live. And wasn’t that more important?
The worst part had been lying to her. Purposely deceiving her. But considering how the chances of them ever seeing each other again were slim to nil, it seemed pointless to labor on regret. The fact remained that General Taylor and his armed men would infiltrate the forest. And his pack, while completely capable of combat, was outgunned and outnumbered. The odds certainly weren’t in their favor—but that didn’t mean they’d give up. This was his land and had been since long before the curse struck. He refused to give it up without a fight. When the general attacked, he and his pack would be ready. And they’d go down swinging, taking with them as many of those bastards as possible.
War lifted his furred head and studied his people with a keen eye. Thanks to Emma, there was an awareness to them now, a cognizance they’d all lacked for the past year. It would give them an advantage, seeing as how the general remained ignorant to the recent change. Their only hope was to think like men but fight like wolves. Luckily for them, they’d all long since perfected such an art.
“We stand behind you, alpha,” Snow said, his amber gaze bright.
As one, the rest of his pack lifted their heads and squared their shoulders. Their eyes all glowed in the darkness, illuminating the encompassing twilight.
“I’ve always been truthful with you,” War said, his voice echoing in his own head like feedback. “And I don’t intend to stop now. This will be a hard battle. One we may not win—”
A series of enraged growls erupted in his ears.
“Settle yourselves,” War cautioned. “We may not win this fight, but that doesn’t mean we’ll go down quietly, either. These men intend to destroy us, to slaughter us on our land. We will not stand for that! The time has come to fight, to show them that this land is ours, to show them they cannot take from us what isn’t theirs! Fight with me, my brothers and sisters, and we will show them that the Pinelands Pack is made up of so much more than rabid animals. Fight with me, and we will show them what it truly means to be a wolf!”
A chorus of yips and barks rose from his people.
War tipped his head back, his gaze locked on the enduring moon, and unleashed a singular howl. It wasn’t long before his entire pack joined in, joining their voices as one in beautiful harmony.
Once the soulful baying tapered off, they marched together toward the fort, their silence weighing heavily on War’s mind. Not a single member of his pack showed fear, but he felt it like a soft caress through his fur.
Eventually, the fort came into view. War stopped and studied his surroundings. He lifted his head and drew in a deep breath, sifting through the plethora of scents. The humans weren’t far now, a few hundred feet or so.
War turned and met the steady gazes of his people. “Ice has assigned you your positions. Go now, then wait for my command before attacking.”
Each bowed their head in respect as they passed him, their steps silent in the undergrowth. War followed suit, keeping his head down and ears perked. Soon, the humans would infiltrate his territory, and he and his wolves would begin the fight of their lives.
War tucked into his assigned location and crouched low, his muscles bunched and ready to spring at any moment. It wasn’t long before he heard rustling—trees moving in the distance, boots scuffling through the undergrowth, fingers nervously tapping their weapons.
“Patience,” War cautioned his already eager pack.
His ears flattened the instant he caught sight of the general. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the term “general” gave the impression of a brutish man sporting a buzz cut. This general couldn’t be further from that. His lanky figure gave off a whiff of weakness, and his boyish curls lent him an odd innocence. But it was the hard glint to his eyes that screamed military. Regardless of his appearance, this man commanded the respect of those who followed him.
As did War.
He waited until the majority of Taylor’s unit was surrounded by the trees before he gave the order. It was little more than a “now” as he leaped from the brush and lunged into the fray, teeth bared. Shouts rose into the night as the humans scrambled for their weaponry. This was what War had hoped for. To take them by surprise. To confuse and distract them. To eliminate them before they retaliated. And do it quickly enough that his people could take out their front line of defense.
One by one, War’s pack joined the assault. A series of savage snarls and rough barks preceded the distinct sound of necks snapping and men crying out. War’s paws slammed into his target’s chest, and he rode him to the ground. Without hesitation, he leaned in and sank his fangs into the man’s throat. A simple twist and the soldier’s death cry turned into a garbled noise.
It’d been a long time since War had tasted human blood. It wasn’t one he particularly cared for. Animals were sweeter and far less difficult to hunt. But there was no escaping this. If his pack hadn’t attacked first, it likely would have been their dying cries echoing through the forest.
War scrambled off the dead soldier and bolted forward, his gaze locked on General Taylor. If he took out the leader, surely the rest of his unit would fall back to the fort. Deciding there was one way to find out, he pushed harder, faster.
His paws churned up the undergrowth as he raced across the war zone. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of injured and dead wolves. The image spurred his rage until he practically flew across the ground.
A few feet away from his target, the general suddenly turned. With a knowing glint to his eye, he lifted his rifle and aimed. War ground his teeth and pushed harder. The race was on now. Could he reach the general before he took his shot?
War jumped through the air, paws outstretched, just as a deafening boom shook the surrounding trees. Agony tore through War’s shoulder, the foreign bit of lead wedging deep inside as blood spilled down his fur. It didn’t matter. He had a job to do, and he refused to let something as small as a bullet take him down.
War and Taylor tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Taylor grunted and dug his elbow into War’s side, shoving him off in a powerful thrust. Before War could scramble to his feet, something hard struck his jaw. He toppled onto his side, his vision blurred. But as it cleared, he saw Taylor take a stance above him, his rifle cradled against his shoulder. A single shot from this range would blow his head clean off his shoulders.
Like hell he’d let that happen. He refused to give up. Taylor would not win this battle. His damn life depended on it. And there was no way he’d let Emma stumble over his corpse.
War gathered his limbs and sprang upward, his teeth locking around the barrel. A quick chomp bent the barrel, rendering it useless. From the looks of it, Taylor had never seen anyone bite a rifle right in front of him. His panicked gaze shot to War’s, his face ashen.
The man knew he’d lost. But just as War was about to deliver one final death blow, a strange sensation swept over him. One he’d quickly grown accustomed to.
Without his consent, his fur receded, and his limbs rearranged themselves. Fear and panic coursed through him, not because shifting put him at a weakness, but because shifting meant Emma was here.
And she couldn’t be here.
She couldn’t.
His internal argument was short-lived though because there stood Emma, furious and beautiful as hell. She marched toward him, blazing through the battlefield without a care in the world, her fiery gaze locked with his.
War groaned as his humanity returned and he straightened. He teetered to the side, his hand coming to rest on a tree trunk for balance.
He wasn’t sure what to expect. Clearly, Emma was pissed. Understandably so. But so furious as to walk through a bloody battlefield lined with corpses, equal parts human and wolf?
Seemed the obvious answer was yes, considering her determined glare and unfaltering stride.
Without a word, she swept up her gun, and then, right before his eyes, she cocked the weapon, pointed it to the sky, and unleashed a single shot. One quickly followed by a piercing whistle.
It wasn’t the gunshot that attracted everyone’s attention, but rather her summoning. With matching expressions, everyone turned toward her, stunned to find a civilian so brazenly out in the open.
“Emma,” War growled, staggering toward her. He had to convince her to leave. It was his responsibility to protect her. She was in danger here. Immensely so. One bullet would end her life. He couldn’t face that.
Emma swung the rifle around and jammed it into the ground before leaning on it like a cane. She shot War a scathing scowl.