by Sharon Page
She shook her head. “No. My time on Earth is over. You can leave me here, wandering in this half life for eternity, or let me move on.” She grabbed his wrists with both hands. “I love you. I will always love you, but you still have a life to finish, a daughter who adores you, grandchildren who will need their grandfather to show them the way of Chanku. You can’t come with me. Not now. You still have too much life to live.”
Ulrich felt some of the resentment begin to melt away, replaced by the sadness and grief he’d kept at bay for so many years. He pulled her close. “Dear God, Camille. It’s so hard. I didn’t have a warning before, not a chance to think of any alternatives other than life without you … and I was so damned angry. Will we still have tonight?”
Camille’s sob tore at his heart. Her tears scalded his chest. “One night … only a few more hours. Let’s not spend them angry. Forgive me, please. Let go of the resentment and the anger and, yes, even the hate you’ve felt toward me. I was wrong. I was selfish and self-centered and foolish, but I’ve paid. We both have. Love me, Ric. Give me memories enough to last until we’re together again. We will be together. I promise.”
His heart thudded against his chest as blood rushed through his veins, his cock swelled, and Ulrich held Camille close against him for the briefest of hugs. Then he stood with her slight body in his arms and walked toward the center of the small meadow bordering the pond.
With the confidence of one who has witnessed the impossible, Ulrich imagined a large bed in the midst of the forest. Without breaking stride, he lay Camille on the sweet-smelling sheets.
7
Camille lay sprawled in the center of the big bed, her legs spread wide while Ulrich lapped and nibbled at her tender nether lips. He’d taken her so many times, in so many ways, yet still hadn’t tasted her flavors enough.
They’d bathed in the pond, made love in the warm, shallow waters, run through the forest as wolves, playing like children yet always aware that none of this was real. There was no birdsong, no life other than the green forest, the thick grasses, and flowers along their path.
It was neither day nor night; there was no sun or moon, yet Ulrich constantly was aware of the passage of time. Of the hands of some unseen clock steadily ticking away his hours with Camille.
He drew her soft labia between his lips and then lightly suckled her clit. She moaned, arched her hips, and lifted her head. “More, my love. Please, Ric. I want more.”
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Ulrich shifted, gave up his human form, and raised his wolven head. He stared at Camille with the perceptions of the wolf.
Her scent was richer, the savory, earthy smell of the woman he loved so much. Stretched out between her legs, he dipped his head and lapped at her lush folds, snaking his long tongue from her ass to her navel and back again.
Camille laughed when she cried out, arching her hips, begging for him to lick harder, deeper, begging for a lifetime of sensation in the few remaining minutes left to them.
Ulrich went deep, licking the streaming walls of her pussy, nipping at her sensitive clit with sharp teeth, and then soothing with his tongue.
Camille whimpered, leaned forward, and grabbed the thick fur at his neck, curling herself around him and holding on as he continued gently licking her sensitive folds and valleys. When her body shuddered and bucked, and he knew she could take no more, Ulrich finally stopped.
He didn’t shift, though. Camille doubled forward, buried her face in the thick ruff of fur at his neck, and cried. The wolf whimpered softly, but there was nothing he could say, nothing he could do to change what had to come.
The only choice was no choice at all. He could choose death, but he would leave behind the ones who loved him, the ones who needed him the most.
Who would walk Tia down the aisle when she married Luc?
He raised his head and looked into Camille’s tear-filled eyes and knew she understood. She smiled sadly at him and nodded in agreement.
“I was so selfish, Ric. So unbelievably selfish. Will you ever truly forgive me?”
He shifted and drew his wife into his arms. “I’ve forgiven you, my love. I have no choice. The anger was the only way I could cope with losing you. I love you. I’ll come back to you one day, when my time in the world of the living is over.”
Ulrich looked to the colorless sky and sensed the coming dawn. Camille’s final dawn, yet no sun would rise to greet her. Could he do this? Did he really have the strength?
Did he have the strength not to? His daughter needed him. Luc. The other men of Pack Dynamics.
He felt a tug, a very gentle pull, reminding him of time growing short. “My love … my one and only love.” Ulrich sighed and held her close. “I feel the power of my life drawing me away. It’s like a very fine line growing tighter, pulling me back.”
Camille nodded. “I feel it, too, only mine is pulling me to the other side, away from life. Away from you and Tia.” She threw her arms around him, holding on as if she could keep him close forever. “Oh!”
“What?”
Camille laughed. “I just realized I’m sending you back to another woman—two of them, in fact, who you’ll love more than me, more than anyone you’ve ever known … and I’m not even jealous.”
Outraged, Ulrich leaned back and glared at her. “There will never be another woman … definitely not two.”
“Yes, there will, and they’re the ones who’ll hold you in your world until the very last second. Tia’s going to give you granddaughters, two of them, with a lot of their grandmother’s sass running through their veins.”
Ulrich groaned. He tried to imagine two little Camilles in his life and gave up. That was a challenge he’d definitely have to grow in to.
Camille tilted up her head for his kiss.
Ulrich bowed and touched his lips to hers. He thought of the continuation of their race, of Camille’s Chanku bloodline running through Tia, mingling with his, with Luc’s, creating new life. Stronger life. A future.
He tasted Camille’s tears, his own tears, felt the softness of her breasts against his chest, the steady beat of her heart, beating in counterpoint to his.
Finding the same rhythm, beating strong and steady, two hearts beating as one.
Felt the power that was life pulling him home.
Welcomed life. Accepted his future.
And then there was one heart. Beating. Beating.
Alone.
Luc must have slept. The sky to the east seemed lighter; the air within the circle remained warm, but he could see frost on the grass around them.
Stefan and Xandi were beginning to stir, but Tia slept soundly, still leaning against his legs. Luc tried to wiggle his toes, but they’d gone numb. He arched his back and stretched and then glanced at Ulrich.
Tears coursed across the man’s cheeks, and his chest rose and fell with each ragged breath.
Luc touched Tia’s shoulder lightly, but it was enough to wake her. She jerked upright and then settled as awareness returned. She turned her head and smiled at Luc first.
He whispered, “Look at your dad.”
Tia frowned and immediately turned to her father. Ulrich opened his eyes and smiled; then he raised his hand to wipe his streaming eyes.
“Daddy! You’re back! You came back!” Tia bent over her father, hugging him tightly. He reached up and patted her on the back and then slowly extricated himself from Tia’s embrace.
“I’m back. I’m okay.” He sighed and smiled sadly. “Ah, sweetheart, it was truly magical.”
“Of course it was.” Anton sat up, his arm wrapped tightly around Keisha. “I told you, I’m a very powerful wizard.”
Ulrich scrambled into a sitting position and laughed. “No problem with ego either, I see.”
Anton chuckled and squeezed his arm around Keisha.
“Daddy, are you okay? Is Mom …?
Ulrich took a deep breath. “I’m fine. Your mother is free. She’s moved on, but she’ll be waiting for us.�
� He patted Tia on the knee. “I’m exhausted. I imagine you are, too. Anton, is there something we can do to help you open the circle? I need about a week’s worth of sleep.”
“I’ll handle it.” Anton rose stiffly to his feet and tugged Keisha with him. He set his chair to one side, making a doorway to the altar, and then stepped outside the circle. He blew out the tiny stub of a candle, doused the incense in the goblet of water, and poured the salt into the goblet. He swirled it around a few times and then carefully poured the saltwater onto the dying coals in the fire pit.
Then he turned back to the circle and smiled at all of them. “Get some sleep, all of you. I’ll put these things away and be in shortly. It’s been a long night. Let’s meet for a late lunch. We can talk then about what’s happened.”
Muttering to himself, obviously still half asleep, Stefan grabbed Alexandria’s hand and, still naked following their shift, they stumbled back to the house. Grinning at the two as they wobbled sleepily up the steps, Luc helped Ulrich to his feet and held out his hand to Tia.
Anton watched the three of them walk back to the house—Luc, Tia, and Ulrich. Though not of his pack, he felt a true kindred with each of them.
He’d done well tonight. Ulrich, exhausted though he may be, walked tall and straight. Tia smiled, and the shadows that had been so much a part of her aura were gone. Luc, as well, seemed younger, lighter.
Anton wrapped each item from his altar in a silk cloth and packed them away inside a drawer at the front of the table.
Later, Oliver would make sure all was carefully put away. Only Keisha waited for Anton. Smiling, feeling much older than his fifty years, he took her hand and walked slowly back to the house.
Instead of their own private quarters, Keisha led Anton to the room they shared with Stefan and Alexandria when the four of them needed to be together. “Are you sure?” he asked. “I thought you might be really tired this morning after such a long night.”
Keisha smiled, her look a mysterious blend of vixen, temptress, and virginal postulant. How could any Chanku look so innocent? Anton kissed her and then followed his mate down the hall to the larger room.
Stefan and Alexandria were just crawling into the big bed. They looked as exhausted as Anton felt. After a quick side trip to the bathroom to wash the smell of incense from his skin, Anton joined the others under the thick down comforter.
Like puppies tumbled into a warm basket, they curled around one another, kissing, hugging, touching, but slowly Keisha and Xandi nodded off to sleep.
Anton grinned quietly to himself. So much for Keisha’s come-hither look. Quietly relieved, physically and emotionally stretched to the limit, Anton rolled over to sleep.
Stefan reached across the girls’ huddled bodies and rubbed Anton’s shoulder. “Hey, bro. You scared me out there. Are you okay?”
Anton rolled back over and smiled sleepily at his packmate. Stefan had raised himself on one elbow. His long, dark hair, shot with silver, brushed the pillow; his deep-set amber eyes glittered with concern in the morning light.
Love raced through Anton, a physical rush of affection that left him breathless. Love for Stefan so deep, so enduring it almost made him weep. He nodded, found control of his suddenly surging emotions, and then whispered quietly, “Yeah. I’m okay. Just worn out. I didn’t sleep well night before last, worrying about what might happen.”
“Everything went really well.”
Anton nodded, swallowed back a lump in his throat. “It did.”
Stefan lay back against the pillows and grinned, but he didn’t say anything. After a moment, Anton raised on one elbow. “Okay. Obviously, there’s more. What?”
“Keisha didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
He flashed a broad smile at Anton. “Xandi’s pregnant. We’re going to have a little boy.”
Keisha stirred, rolled to her side, and fell back to sleep. Alexandria snuggled close to Keisha and sighed quietly. Sleeping. As though Stefan hadn’t just rocked the world.
Anton finally caught his breath and nodded his head toward the door. Come with me.
Grinning like an idiot, Stefan followed Anton out the door and trailed behind him down the long hall to the study.
Anton reached the study first and grabbed the cognac and glasses out of the bar. He watched the amber liquid flow from the decanter into the crystal glasses and saw instead the joy in Stefan’s eyes. His heart ached, but it was a good feeling, a sense that he was filled with so much happiness there wasn’t room for the damned thing to beat.
Anton glanced up as Stefan entered the room. The beauty of the man who was both lover and friend, as close as any brother could be, once again took Anton’s breath.
Tall, dark, and gloriously naked, Stefan walked across the wide room without any self-consciousness at all, his lean yet muscular body moving with the grace of a dancer, his long, dark hair framing a face of both mischief and intelligence.
Now Stefan’s brilliant amber eyes shimmered with emotion, and he looked ready to burst. Anton held out his arms, and the two men embraced.
There was no awkwardness between them as they hugged, their bodies meeting, hearts pounding in sync as they held one another tightly. Anton almost wept when he thought of the changes Stefan and Alexandria had brought into his life, the family they’d given him, the sense of place and peace. As he slowly moved out of Stefan’s arms, Anton gave thanks for the deep, abiding love he’d found with this amazing man.
Now both he and Stefan faced their greatest challenge yet.
Fatherhood.
It boggled the mind.
They took their glasses and stood in front of the large picture window overlooking the broad meadow behind the house. Morning sun streamed through the glass, and frost sparkled in the shaded areas along the edge of the forest.
Oliver must have already gathered up the chairs and altar. Smoke still rose from the fire pit, but only a dark scar marked the place where the pentacle had been.
Where Anton had parted the veil between life and death, if only for one night.
He held up his glass to Stefan’s. His throat felt full, and his eyes burned, but he couldn’t recall ever experiencing such joy. That he and Stefan should be able to share the miracle of fatherhood … It was more than Anton ever could have dreamed.
“Congratulations, my friend. That is the most amazing news.”
Stefan tapped his goblet against the edge of Anton’s. So often his response was a silly joke or gesture, but now his eyes shimmered with the same emotion as Anton’s. “Xandi just told me this morning, right after Ulrich returned. She’s a couple weeks behind Keisha, but not that far. You and I, my friend, will be raising our kids together.”
Anton took a sip of his cognac. The clock chimed…. He silently counted to seven and burst into laughter. “I wonder if, after the babies come, we’ll spend a lot of time in the study drinking cognac at seven in the morning?”
Stefan sipped at his drink, glanced over at Anton, and chuckled. “Probably not naked. Things will have to change when we have children.”
Anton nodded. “I know. It’s been a magical time, the freedom, the loving.”
“The loving will have to be a bit more discreet, but I don’t want it to end.”
Anton tipped his glass against Stefan’s and then threw his arm around his friend’s shoulders and kissed him on the mouth. “To discretion.”
Stefan kissed Anton back. “To fatherhood.”
Both men drank deeply, their arms draped loosely around one another’s shoulders. Anton stared out the window. He felt Stefan laughing quietly beside him.
“Holy crap. I’m gonna be a daddy.”
Anton grinned and rubbed Stefan’s shoulder. I know exactly how you feel. Scared, elated, excited … any word would do. Anton took another sip of his drink and tried to imagine life in his huge home filled with the laughter of children.
Keisha had come into his life in his fiftieth year, blessing him with love and laug
hter, and, now, a child. He still felt like a young man. None of them really knew if the Chanku lived longer than mere humans, but if Ulrich was any example …
Anton wondered how the man had fared last night. If he’d resolved all the issues with his late wife. If he was ready to once again embrace life.
Just as Anton needed to embrace Keisha. He leaned close to Stefan and rubbed his head against his friend’s, much as two dogs might nuzzle one another.
Or two wolves. “I love you, my friend, but I’ve got a beautiful woman sleeping in the other room.”
Stefan set his glass on the sideboard. “I understand completely. C’mon.”
Anton followed Stefan down the hall and crawled into bed just as Stefan reclaimed his spot on the far side. He felt himself slipping into sleep almost immediately, caught for just a moment on soft words echoing in his mind.
Stefan’s words, an echo of his own sleepy thoughts. It’s all good, isn’t it? All of it. So damned good.
Anton pulled up the blankets. Good night, Stefan.
8
Luc pulled the shades tight and left Tia alone in their room while he helped her dad across the hall to his bed. Ulrich had seemed a bit disoriented from his journey through the veil, though not harmed in any way. Still, Luc hadn’t wanted to leave her father alone.
Another reason for Tia to love him.
Sleep couldn’t come soon enough. Now, lying in their big bed, waiting for Luc to return, Tia still wasn’t sure if she’d dreamed the past night, or if it was really true.
She hugged herself, remembering her mother’s arms around her waist, Camille’s scent, her soft laughter. Memories of her childhood crowded her thoughts, making Tia feel whole for the first time since her mother’s death.