Claimed by Desire

by Kristin Miller

  “This is promising,” Misty said, swiping her hand over the tip of the flame. It licked at her fingers, flickering down the paths. “It means someone was down here recently to light the way.”

  Rafe didn’t understand how a werewolf in close proximity was a good thing, but was too focused on paying attention to his surroundings to fight her on it.

  “I say we follow the candlelit road,” Misty said, pulling him toward the lit path, her long red ringlets flopping behind her.

  “I say you’re insane. Do you want to run into a werewolf or something?”

  When her eyes met his, they glowed iridescent in the candlelight, taking his breath away.

  “I’ve been trying to tell you…they won’t harm us once we tell them who we are and what we’re looking for. If they are angry that we’re down here, I should be able to pick up on that emotion before we’re in range. Maybe they could show us the way out so we don’t waste our time winding down tunnels that lead farther into the mountain.”

  A series of low growls echoed through the tunnels, raising the hairs on Rafe’s neck.

  “What makes you think we’d let you leave?” a baritone voice asked.

  Rafe slid in front of Misty, his arms spread protectively to his sides. “Where was your empath sensor that time?” he bit out.

  She pinched him beneath the arm. “It’s not like an alarm goes off or something.” She squeezed his shoulders, her body hugging his. “Something stronger must be blocking my ability to sense them.”

  At first Rafe only saw one werewolf, slinking out of the shadows of the left tunnel. The shifter, though still in his human form, was as beastly and hairy as a wolf. Greased black hair fell to his shoulders in a matted mess. Mud clung to his naked torso and dark washed jeans. His werewolf marking was black and tribal, snaking around his neck, down his side and over his arm.

  When the other werewolf came out of the shadows behind him, moving slower and more deliberately than his pack mate, Rafe knew he was the one to keep an eye on. The shifter was smaller than the first, but threw off an air of total dominance as he closed in on their position. Platinum blond hair flopped over his eyes. The angles of his face were as sharp as the rocks around them. And his werewolf marking was charcoal-black with long thick vines and jagged thorns that covered his bare chest.

  “Don’t belong nowhere around here, Draco,” the smaller wolf spat, attempting to circle them. “What business you doing?”

  Rafe kept himself between the shifters and Misty, matching them step for step. “We’re just passing through.”

  As the smaller shifter sized Misty up, sniffing the air as if he could smell her fear, Rafe had to use all his strength to tone down the rage firing through this gut. The last thing he needed was to start a fight with two werewolves—who were clearly looking for trouble—on their turf. Damn it, how’d Misty convince him to come through Hollow Pass? They’d just barged through the werewolves’ fucking front door.

  “You’re not Draco,” the wolf said to Misty as if he’d just realized it. “Not Sindraco, either.”

  She shook her head, although the canine didn’t need an answer. Shifters could sense other shifters a mile away. Now that he thought of it, Rafe sensed a dozen or more werewolves stalking to their position from the left and right.

  “Feeler?” The burly one scratched the back of his neck and grimaced.

  “Empath,” Misty corrected.

  “What one of your kind doin’ back here?”

  Their presence was making the wolves uneasy. Rafe had to get Misty out of there. Fast.

  “No empath come round in five years. Maybe more. What your business here?”

  “We’re traveling to the far reaches of Feralon.” Misty’s voice was laced with fear. “If you’d be so kind as to allow us to pass through, we’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

  Thunder shook the mountain, drowning out the wolves’ laughter. Rafe pushed Misty behind him farther.

  “Don’t mind if we take you to our Alpha, do ya’?” The larger one closed in. “He might have somethin’ to say `bout a Draco and a Feeler taking a bird-eye of our land `fore the boundary talk.”

  Meeting their Alpha was the last thing Rafe and Misty wanted. Alphas were temperamental werewolves—egomaniacal leaders who would gladly slice the throats of trespassers to send a message of uncontested dominance to the rest of their pack.

  “We weren’t scoping out anything.” Rafe maneuvered around, Misty flush behind him, so that his back faced the path dead ahead; the one that widened to the right, then disappeared. It was the only one giving off the faintest hint of a cold draft….

  Misty gripped Rafe’s biceps tight, and peeked over his shoulder.

  “Tell your Alpha to speak with Queen Elixa about the reason for our presence here,” Rafe said. “He’ll get the answer he needs and know we mean no malice.”

  The shifters followed him step for step down the tunnel, backs hunching, fangs elongating. In seconds, they’d barely fit in the pass. They’d grow over eight feet tall and become solid walls of muscle and fur and snapping teeth.

  “That’s not good enough,” the smaller of the two growled. “If you wanna pass through, you’ll pay a price.”

  “I think my buddy here’s got the right idea.” The husky shifter moved closer, eyeing Misty hungrily. “I might like a little plaything to toss ‘round in the storm out there. You feelin’ the stir in me, empath?” He swiped a fat wet tongue across his lips.

  “There’s no need for any of this,” Misty pleaded. “We didn’t mean to intrude….”

  With a howl, the smaller werewolf dropped to all fours and leaped at them. Thick layers of fur draped over his torso and back. His body exploded with muscle. The larger wolf followed his command and shifted, snarling in rage. They were larger and more menacing than Rafe expected; blocking all the light from the pass.

  Rafe’s protective instinct flared to uncontrollable levels. In a burst of movement, he shielded Misty from their attack, shifting into dragon form before she could clamp her eyes shut. Muscles exploded over Rafe’s body, ripping his clothes to shreds, sending the duffel bag flying into the wall. He sliced his wings through the air like battleaxes, the weight of them hitting the wolves midflight. Misty screamed, hiding her face in Rafe’s chest.

  The wolves cried from the force of the hit and jumped back. They foamed at the mouth, their eyes burning violet in the dark.

  Misty didn’t waste any time. She snatched their bag, slung it across her back and wrapped herself around Rafe’s chest. With the size of the tunnel, there was no way she could ride his back without being scraped off the top. As it was, Rafe’s wings couldn’t extend full length. What surprised him the most was that he didn’t even have to tell Misty how to hang on. It was as if she’d read his mind.

  Rafe bounded down the tunnel, following the hint of a cool draft of air, his wings scraping the walls. Behind him, the wolves snapped at his tail, gouged their claws into the tips of his wings and howled for other wolves to join in the scramble.

  Beneath him, clutched to his chest and belly, Misty whimpered. Her hands slipped.

  Pain seared through Rafe’s tail as a set of fangs pierced his flesh. He let out an agonizing bellow that reverberated against the walls. But he kept going. Had to keep going.

  Massive teeth thrashed back and forth like a scissored blade, cutting him deep. He had to focus hard not to shift back to human form. It went against every instinct in his body to remain a dragon. Injuries couldn’t transfer between forms. Shifters were anomalies of natural selection in that way. If they didn’t change forms to recover, they risked death.

  Now, as the larger wolf took a bite out of Rafe’s wing, every fiber in his being screamed to shift back and heal.

  But he couldn’t leave Misty. And he could protect her better this way. Shielding her body with his.

  Despite the pain searing through him, Rafe pushed harder, ramming into the wall to dislodge the fangs from his wings and tail. He turned
the blind corner in the pass. And faced an opening covered by falling sheets of water.

  Wolves snapping at his back, Rafe bounded off the ground, let his wings unleash with a loud snap and burst through the wall of water. The two werewolves skidded to a halt…but it was too late. They tumbled through the waterfall, falling into the lake below like chunky stones.

  Rafe and Misty soared.

  But only long enough for Rafe to realize his tail and wings were torn to shreds. He veered right, left, fumbling through the wind and rain, searching for a place to land. Below them was an enormous lake, the size of a small sea, surrounded on three sides by rocky, impassable cliffs. On the farthest side of the lake, beyond a rock seawall used as a dam, was the ocean, sparkling white in the twilight. And behind them, covering the ridge from tip to base, was a series of waterfalls that merged into one gigantic wall of water.

  No land for werewolves to conquer. Nothing but waterfalls, lake and sea.

  Merfolk territory.

  Rafe had the fleeting thought that they weren’t going to last long…as Misty slipped from his chest and fell through the sky.

  Chapter Five

  Misty tumbled through the air, head over feet, losing her stomach with every flip. She tilted and twirled, catching glimpses of water above her, below her, beside her. One moment she was headed for the jagged side of the mountain. The next she was careening toward a massive wall of water that’d drag her down to her death. Then she was plummeting faster than before, closing in on the flat blue of the lake.

  The lake grew larger. Wider. Another few seconds and the fall would be over…

  Rafe’s wings closed around her. A parachute. A lifeline.

  Eyes pinched tight, Misty clutched the wide span of his chest, hugged him tight and waited for the impact of water. But it didn’t come. Relief washed over her as warm sea breezes coated her dangling feet.

  Misty shouted into Rafe’s chest as he veered toward the base of the mountain. Crashed into a curtain of cascading water. Beyond the waterfall, Rafe and Misty hit the ground hard, rolling against one another, Rafe’s wings wrapped around her to absorb most of the impact.

  And then they hit a wall.

  Rafe groaned from the collision, a primal sound that dizzied Misty with worry. His wings lolled open. Misty rolled out of his embrace and clamored to his side. His tail was shredded, the glimmering green and gold streaks dulled with metallic-brown globs of blood. His breathing was heavy and uneven. His wings torn, frayed at the edges like a used napkin.

  “Rafe!” She tossed the duffel off her back and shook him, heart in her throat. If he died while in dragon form…

  No. Rafe couldn’t die.

  She shook him again, more forcefully, her heart overflowing with fear. What scared her most wasn’t his tail, or the blood, or his wings, although those looked bad enough for a Draco E.R. visit…it was the fact that for a single moment, she couldn’t feel anything from him. No beat of his heart. No exhale of breath. No firing through his muscles.

  His eyes fluttered open.

  Numbness, like needles freckling her skin, spread over her body. Her heart shifted in her rib cage, trembling with worry and regret. It was Rafe.

  “Oh, thank God.” Misty stroked his nose, letting little anxious sighs escape her lungs. “I thought I lost you.” She brushed her lips against the silky sheen of his scales as her hands roamed over his large, powerful body.

  He shifted then, right beneath her. His scales disappeared, leaving hard muscle covered by tan skin. His wings folded beneath him. Within seconds Misty wasn’t resting on the chest of a magnificent dragon, listening to his heartbeat match her own. She was lying down, nestled in the crook of Rafe’s arm, warm and safe.

  “It’s all right, Misty.” He stroked her hair, though it did little to slow her racing heart. “Give me a few minutes to catch my breath and I’ll be fine.”

  “Those werewolves,” she said, struggling to formulate a coherent thought. “Did they hurt you…I mean, are you in pain when you shift back?”

  He took a jagged breath. “You know that tingly, numbing feeling you get when your foot falls asleep?”

  She nodded, feeling that odd buzzing jolt through her body as he spoke. Thanks to the rainstorm and the waterfall, her sweater and jeans were drenched, clinging to her skin, freezing her to the bone. She shivered and nestled into his chest.

  “It’s a little like that,” he said. “I know a part of me was injured—I can feel the pain subsiding, warming my arms and legs—but it doesn’t hurt. Not really.”

  “When I was falling…” She needed to keep talking. Release the anxious words before they festered. “For a second, I didn’t think you’d get to me in time.”

  “There’s no reason to be afraid.” He pulled her close and rubbed strong hands up her arms, around her shoulders. She’d never felt more protected…more loved. “No matter how shredded my wings are…no matter what happens to me…you have to know I’d do anything to protect you. If I saved you with my last, dying breath, it will have been the most precious one I ever took.”

  “Don’t say that.” Tears burned fast in her throat. “I can’t even think about losing you.”

  Rafe stilled. God, what Misty wouldn’t give to know what was hidden behind those shadowed windows into his soul.

  “You’re not going to lose me,” he said, drawing her mouth close to his. “Not tonight.”

  Tonight wouldn’t be enough.

  Although the cave was dark, streams of water blocking the entrance shined luminescent. As if the water itself was enchanted. Shimmering white auras danced over the walls, across Rafe’s tanned skin. Misty could see him clearly. Every perfectly sculpted muscle on his body.

  “Not only tonight…I don’t ever want to lose you again.” The teasing brush of words tingled Misty’s lips as they passed. Raw passion sizzled in the air between them, laced with something deeper. Stronger.

  Love.

  Misty sighed, giving in to what she knew all along. “I want all of you…every day and every night of the rest of my life.”

  “You don’t even have to say the words. You have me.” One of Rafe’s hands found the curve of Misty’s backside. Pinpricks of anticipation scampered down her legs. “Not a day has passed that I haven’t dreamed of having you here with me again…just like this.”

  With the intensity of his gaze fighting off her chill, Misty propped up on her elbow and kissed Rafe long and deep. He returned her fervor stroke for stroke, lighting her soul on fire. His tongue was tender and wet, exploring her mouth, stealing her breath.

  Misty’s hands traveled lower, tracing the hard ridge of muscle on either side of his hips. She longed to lick him there. Let her tongue trace over that groove. Instead her hand traipsed lower and gripped the thick head of his shaft.

  “What’d you dream, Rafe?” she asked, stroking the thin sheath over his marblelike muscle. Tension spiraled through the air. “Did you dream of something like this?”

  His eyes rolled back and his lips fell into a tight line as she stroked him faster. He was so large, she could barely grip him. Dampness pooled between her legs. God, she was so anxious for him to fill her again. And clearly, he wanted her, too.

  A deep growl reverberated from Rafe’s chest as his head lolled back against the floor. He gripped her rear tight. Kneaded her flesh with desperate hands. Urged her on. But it wasn’t necessary. She wasn’t going to stop. Not until she fed the hunger burning inside her.

  Misty rose to her hands and knees and swiped her tongue over her lower lip. He was enormous, not only in stature, but every single bulging part of him. He was strained. On edge. Using one hand to hold his shaft, Misty licked a deviously slow line up the length of him.

  Rafe moaned as she took him into her mouth and sucked hard. Using his breathless groans as a guide, Misty worked his shaft with slow massaging strokes of her hand. He tensed from each touch, gasped with each teasing flick of her tongue over his tip.

  Misty could barely cont
ain herself. Every fiber in her body burned to straddle his middle and soothe the hollow ache in her core. When she thought he was about to burst, he grabbed her around the waist and flipped her onto her back. It was a single flash of movement that ripped the breath from her lungs.

  Oh, yes…

  She’d give herself to Rafe with a look, a gleam in his eye, a single, breathless word…but oh, how she loved when he took what he wanted.

  “I want you naked,” he said, his eyes heavy and dark with need. In another flash, he stripped her out of her sweater and jeans. As she lay there, exposed and vulnerable, he sighed and shook his head. “So. Damn. Sexy.”

  Misty squirmed under the weight of his stare and tried to pull him down on top of her. But he resisted, pulling back.

  *

  Rafe could’ve dropped dead a happy man.

  Misty was lying before him expectantly; more beautiful than the day he met her. Her skin seemed to glow like porcelain in the reflective light of the waterfall. Her hair looked aflame; a mass of curls that splayed over the ground in waves of crimson. She was almost too angelic to touch. Almost.

  “Tell me what you want,” he said hoarsely, trying to hold back from ravaging her the way he truly wanted.

  She writhed beneath him, not hiding the expectant pleasure in her eyes. “Touch me.”

  Rafe felt his possessive urge soar. He leaned over and claimed her mouth with his. Covered every inch of her body with his hands. Smudged trails of openmouthed kisses down her neck. Along her jaw. His lips ghosted featherlight across her honey-smooth skin.

  Bending to suckle one of her taut pink nipples into his mouth, Rafe swept two fingers to the sweet spot between her legs. He sucked in a breath when he found her wet. Creamy.

  Desire washed over him in a wet, scorching wave. Drenching him. Tugging him under. He teased her, swirled his fingers around her most sensitive flesh. Licked her nipples. When her back arched and she gasped for more, Rafe slid his fingers inside.