by L. L. Raand
* * *
“You’re not happy with me, are you,” Sylvan said when they reached their den.
Drake sighed. “I meant what I said in there. You are my heart. I trust you, and I respect your strength.” She caught Sylvan’s jaw, her claws unsheathed, and Sylvan stilled. “But that does not mean I don’t fear for you every time you leave me. And you always leave me when there is danger to be faced.”
Sylvan pulled Drake down on the bed beside her. “And most of the time you insist on coming with me, no matter how hard I try to protect you.”
Drake dragged Sylvan’s shirt from her pants and stroked the places on her chest and abdomen that set Sylvan aflame. “True. You wanted a mate. You didn’t want a mate who wouldn’t challenge you, did you?”
Smiling, Sylvan kissed her. “Until you, I didn’t want a mate at all.”
“Well, now you have one, and I will never stop loving you, and wanting you, and wanting to protect you…as you protect me.”
Sylvan rested her brow against Drake’s. “I will always return to you. You have my promise.”
“I know.” Drake pulled her shirt off, opened her pants, and pushed them down. She smiled, watching Sylvan’s eyes flash gold. Her clitoris strained at the emergence of Sylvan’s gleaming canines, hungry for her. “Now I want something else besides the promise. I want you.”
With a snarl, Sylvan shed her clothes and pulled Drake down on top of her. “I am yours, always.”
Drake sat astride Sylvan’s abdomen, running her hands over Sylvan’s chest, circling her breasts, tracing the etched lines in her abdomen with her claws. She kissed her, smoothing her palm down the pelt line in the center of Sylvan’s abdomen until she reached the cleft between her thighs. Deepening her kiss, catching flesh with her teeth, she gripped her sex and squeezed.
Sylvan’s neck arched and she hissed, the bones in her jaws angling, harsh and stark and wild.
Drake nipped her throat. “Remember, you said I could have you.”
“Be careful, mate,” Sylvan said through gritted teeth. “It is dangerous to tease an Alpha.”
“Is it now?” Drake nipped her lower lip again, hard enough to produce another growl. “I’m afraid I’m not intimidated.” To punctuate her words, she stroked the length of Sylvan’s clitoris, pressing against the glands buried deep beneath, forcing Sylvan’s hips to buck beneath her hand.
Sylvan tensed. Her instinct was to assert her dominance, to take her mate in swift, hard claiming thrusts, but her passion for Drake was not only instinct. Drake was her heart, her equal, and her love. She would let Drake take her in any way she wanted. But her wolf knew Drake loved a challenge as much she did.
Sylvan clenched her jaws and shoved upward, unseating Drake and flipping her onto her back in one powerful surge. Before Drake could reassert herself, Sylvan straddled her torso and clasped her nape. Pushing her hips forward, she pressed her clitoris to Drake’s mouth, heedless of the glint of canines. A bite would only make her release harder.
“Take me.”
On a snarl, Drake gripped Sylvan’s ass, her clawed fingertips piercing skin, and closed her lips around Sylvan’s clitoris.
Lust hammered at Sylvan’s sanity. Her pelt shimmered beneath her skin, sex-sheen running in rivulets down her bare chest onto her etched abdominals. She pumped into Drake’s hot mouth and her glands pulsed.
Drake sucked and Sylvan emptied. Her stomach contracted, her clitoris spasmed, and her essence filled Drake’s mouth. Groaning, she fell beside Drake, her cheek on Drake’s chest.
“I’ll always come back,” Sylvan murmured.
Drake took Sylvan’s hand and pressed it to her swollen sex. “I know.”
Chapter Eight
Cresthome
Midday
Zora felt Loris land on her balcony, pushed aside the report from Ash on their combat readiness she’d been trying to read, and moved to the open door. In casual battle dress—black combat pants and tee—Loris leaned against the railing, his arms crossed over his chest, his legs extended in front of him. He’d look relaxed to anyone else but her. She recognized the pose as his relaxed but wholly alert position. She’d never seen him under any circumstances be less than ready to jump into battle.
“What is it?” she asked.
“The Timberwolves are gone.”
Zora’s stomach tightened. Of course they were gone. She’d told Trent to take her soldiers into the forest. That had to be the reason. “All of them?”
Loris nodded. “Including Jace. Ash is not happy.”
“No, I imagine she isn’t.”
“If I may speak,” Loris said.
“When have you not?”
He almost grinned, but his dark eyes remained serious. “Something will need to be done about that.”
“That? You mean Ash, the captain of my guard?”
“Forgive me, Alpha, but Ash is now mated to a high-ranking Timberwolf, and”—he shrugged—“we can’t make room for Jace without substantial challenge from within our ranks. Nor should we.”
“If I appoint Jace to a position within our Pack, there will be no need for a challenge. I am Alpha here, and I choose who serves, and where.”
He was quiet for a moment before he slowly shook his head again. “That’s never been done.”
“There are many things that have not been done, Loris,” Zora said quietly. “We’ve never been attacked by creatures like the ones we saw, and we’ve never been in an alliance like this with another Pack in all the history of our time in this territory.”
“I understand. But Pack is Pack, and hierarchy is hierarchy. It can’t be…” He appeared to be searching for a word.
“Appointed?” Zora said helpfully.
“Exactly. Position must be won and held through strength and power. Even yours.”
“Believe me, I am well aware of that.” Zora grimaced. “And I don’t disagree with you. For now, we have more important things to consider. I will deal with this at the first reasonable opportunity.”
He nodded. “I think that’s all our Pack needs to know. They trust you.”
“And you, General? Do you?”
“Yes,” he said instantly.
But his scent was wary. “Something still troubles you.”
“Besides our new enemies?”
“Beside that.”
“Trent.”
Zora’s skin heated at the aggression in Loris’s tone. “What about her?”
“She won’t be accepted in our ranks, challenge or not.”
In a single leap, Zora crossed the fifteen foot span of deck, stopping mere millimeters from Loris’s suddenly tense body. She growled, low and steady, until Loris dipped his head and exposed his throat. Zora fixed her descended canines against the pulse beating in his carotid artery until he shivered, sweat trickling down his throat. Only then did she step back. “Do not presume that your position gives you leave to tell me what my Pack will or will not accept, or what commands they will follow. I respect your experience and value your counsel when it comes to war, General, but do not ever forget who rules here.”
“Forgive me, Alpha. I have not forgotten.”
“And I expect you to set an example for the others and obey, unless you wish to challenge my command.” Zora loosed the rein on her wolf and power rolled.
Loris gasped. “I understand. You are and ever will be my Alpha.”
“Then tell me, General, what are my soldiers prepared to do in response to this new approach from our allies?”
Returned to Zora’s graces, Loris grinned. “I have them ready to march within the hour, Alpha. The Timberwolves have only been gone a short time, and they won’t expect us to follow so quickly. They’ll be making camp and preparing their own ambush, but we will be in place well before nightfall.”
She nodded. “I want you to strike first. We will show the Timberwolves that our Weres have ruled in these forests far longer than any visitor, and that we know how to defend our territory.”
“I will rendezvous with you for a briefing to review the plans,” Zora said. “You have scouts out already?”
“Sent out as soon as I was informed of the proposed maneuvers.”
“Very well. But remember, the Timberwolves are not our enemies, and you will control your soldiers. Overpower them, submit them if need be, but avoid outright challenge. These are maneuvers, not Pack wars.”
“As you will, Alpha.”
She nodded in dismissal, and bracing an arm on the top of the railing, he jumped over the side.
Zora returned to her quarters to prepare for her return to the forest. She planned to oversee the skirmishes herself and, most importantly, lead the first assault on Trent’s forces. Trent thought to distance herself after Zora’s rejection of her advances by demonstrating the weakness of Zora’s soldiers. An image of Trent on her knees, proud and aroused and begging to touch her, sent a shiver of exquisite pleasure through Zora’s sex. Trent had much to learn about Snowcrest power, and her wolf rejoiced at the opportunity to teach her.
Chapter Nine
Timberwolf Compound
Dawnbreak
Sylvan stopped at the gate, slung an arm around Drake’s shoulders, and dragged her close. “I will return as soon as I can.”
Drake pressed a hand to Sylvan’s chest. “In one piece, and uninjured.”
Sylvan grinned, her eyes sparking. “As you wish, Prima.”
Drake kissed her again. “I wish you many things, and when you return, I’ll make sure you know what they are.”
“I’ll be ready. I’ll see you soon, Prima.” Sylvan stepped away and nodded to Torren, who stood nearby, Misha’s hand in the curve of her elbow. At the edge of the forest, Niki pulled Sophia, her mate and the Pack’s Omega, against her body and kissed her. Rafe, a senior member of Jody’s personal guard and the last of Sylvan’s retinue, waited a few feet away by the side of Jody’s black limo, apparently unperturbed by the approaching dawn. Rafe was old and powerful and could tolerate a few moments of sunlight, but even had she been concerned, her marble-like, sharply curved façade would not have revealed it. Her wide, full lips lifted, a glint of incisor showing when she caught Sylvan’s gaze. Sylvan rumbled, amused at the arrogance and what, from any Were, would’ve been considered a challenge. The Vampires had long been their allies and had just as often been their enemies, but under Jody’s command, their allegiances had grown stronger.
Sylvan signaled the others to join her with Torren. “Ready?”
Torren pressed a kiss to Misha’s temple. “Until I return, stay safe, My Lady.”
Misha stroked a hand on Torren’s shimmering countenance. “As My Lord wishes. And remember what I said.”
Torren chuckled, a lilting, sensuous sound Sylvan had rarely ever heard. “As I value all my body parts, I shall be certain to heed My Lady’s warning.”
“See that you do, My Lord.”
Misha moved away to stand next to Sophia and Drake, her gaze fixed on Torren, who waved a hand amidst a shower of light.
The brilliance winked out, and Sylvan experienced nightfall again—a darkness without stars so dense it eclipsed the coming dawn. A shuddering breath later and the sun rose in an instant, dazzling enough to make her blink, gorgeous enough to make her heart lift. Such light—so pure and bright her wolf wanted to howl with joy.
She glanced at Rafe, concerned. “You are well?”
“I had not thought to see this moment again.” Rafe gazed at the sky, at the magenta sky, breaking into pale pinks and oranges and, in its center, a blood-red sun.
A sharp cry, birdlike, but with the eerie echo of a Pack at night, heralded the graceful flight of a four-winged creature overhead, its long tail swishing, its scaled snout on a long, narrow head streaming tendrils of flame. Dragon.
Torren watched the flight of the enormous monster, unperturbed. “Cecilia has marked our arrival, and her Herald greets us.”
“Does it speak to you?” Sylvan asked.
Torren’s smile reminded Sylvan of a lethal predator. “Ixtal sends a warning. Cecilia reminds us we have arrived unannounced, which could be taken as an act of war.”
“Tell Cecilia,” Sylvan said as the dragon spiraled closer, its jaws opening wide to reveal double rows of daggerlike teeth, “that we arrive as we had been visited, unannounced, but ready for her parlay.”
The great howling cry, sharp and piercing, came again, and the dragon swept majestically sunward until its form winked out as if swallowed by the sun.
Sylvan glanced at Torren and raised a brow.
“A royal pathway, direct to Cecilia’s throne room in the royal Faerie Mound.”
“Are we close to that, then?” Sylvan said.
“In distance, no. If we follow the royal pathway, mere seconds.”
“And if we do that, what will we find on the other end?” Rafe inquired.
“That,” Torren said softly, “I do not know.”
Niki growled. “It seems we are at the disadvantage here.”
“Not if we have something Cecilia wants,” Sylvan reminded her.
“Besides us,” Niki rejoined with a disgusted grunt.
“That is true.” Sylvan motioned to Torren. “Let’s be on our way then.”
* * *
“Report,” Zora said as Loris returned from conferring with her scouts. She’d been waiting impatiently for a sighting of the Timberwolves’ position since nightfall, when the Snowcrest forces had moved under cover of darkness into the forest. The Timberwolves had covered their tracks as much as possible, fording creeks and traveling along rocky paths, but this was her land, and no one could hide from her here. She’d led her advance guard rapidly along the trail and now was only a few hours and a shorter distance behind Trent’s warriors.
“It is as we expected,” Loris said. “The Timberwolves are encamped a mile away, beneath the bluff beside the river. They have good cover from above and will be able to see any attempt to cross the river in a frontal assault.”
“Are all of them there?”
“That we cannot tell, Alpha. We can see their campfires and movements, but not clearly enough to accurately count. There may be others sequestered in the forest on the near side of the water.”
Zora nodded. Trent would not be foolish enough to put all her forces in one place. “They will have sentries posted, and Trent will have divided her forces enough to protect her flanks.”
“Yes, but we expect they will be moving into position to ambush us.”
Zora smiled. “Well, where they think we will be.”
Loris grinned.
Zora gestured to Ash. “Captain, choose six of your most experienced, and we will form the head of the spear.”
Ash moved off and Zora turned to Loris. “Assemble four other cadres, on our flanks. We will be in position as they move down to circle Trent’s right and left platoons. At my command, we will close the pincer and force them to the banks of the river. Once there, they will have no place to retreat that will not leave their rear guard vulnerable. The bluff will become their prison, not their protection.”
Loris nodded. “If I may, Alpha?”
“Go ahead,” Zora said.
“I would lead the first cadre at the point of the spear, Alpha, to protect you from—”
“No,” Zora said.
Loris’s jaw bunched, but he made no argument. Instead, he saluted and followed Ash back to the encampment where their soldiers were secluded downwind of the Timberwolves.
Zora carried no weapons. She would fight this day as wolf. Once the Timberwolves acknowledged the sovereignty of the Snowcrest Weres in their own territory, and her Pack was assured that they were under no threat from them, their alliance would be more secure. There would be no call for challenge.
And Trent would be safe.
Chapter Ten
Sylvan glanced at Torren uneasily. She sensed they had moved, but the glade seemed
the same—only different. The trees were taller, the sun in a different position in the sky. Had they somehow been transported to a new destination, or another time altogether? Time kaleidoscoped and the very fabric of reality warped in Faerie. Sylvan couldn’t tell if she’d been standing in the glade for a few minutes or even days. Cecilia was toying with them, a maneuver Sylvan understood well, although not one she cared for herself. When she hunted prey, she respected them and gave them the opportunity to outsmart her if they could. Outrun her, outlast her, or, like the clever hare that took to the underbrush and foiled her pups, outwit her through sheer force of will. But this foreignness, even while she understood the purpose, unsettled her. And of course, that’s exactly what Cecilia intended. Knowing the Faerie Queen wanted her off-balance and disoriented, Sylvan shook off the disquiet. Beside her, Niki stood at rigid attention while internally her wolf paced, a far less controlled reflection of Sylvan’s wolf, unhappy and itching for a fight. Niki was her general and always ready for a fight. That battle lust made Niki the great warrior she was and also, at times, the one Sylvan needed to control with teeth at her throat.
Don’t give her what she wants. Sylvan spoke wolf to wolf.
Niki’s lip lifted in a snarl, her elongated canines the only sign that her wolf was prowling close to the surface.
Cecilia seeks to tease you, to put you off-balance.
I am not concerned by Fae games, Niki replied.
Laughter like the sound of birdsong in flight, undercut with the predatory warning call of the hawk, floated through Sylvan’s mind. Tell your general she should be concerned with this Fae.
Sylvan stared at Torren. My Lord Torren. I did not realize you could participate in Pack communication.
Ordinarily I would not be able to.
Like all Fae, friend or foe, Torren often spoke in riddles and half thoughts. Sylvan tamped down her irritation. And Cecilia? Can she too share our thoughts?