Vivianne wriggled up close to him, eager to close any distance. He was so much bigger than she, broader, stronger, just being like this, bodies pressed against each other, was an intoxication all of its own. Zane tugged the panel of her panties to the side, his fingers running along her hot delta. She moaned, in frustration, in satisfaction, in impatience... He wanted to stay and play, but both of them were way past that point. She wanted him.
Now.
Again, as though he could read her mind, he slid his length inside her. He hissed with pleasure as he did so. She gasped, her gaze meeting his, and she focused on the sweet, tantalizing sensation of his flesh inside her. He’d seated himself to the hilt. Then he withdrew slightly. He shuddered at the sensation, and her eyes closed in what could only be described as a tidal wave of hot bliss. She trembled with want, with desire, so close to satisfaction, and the realization sent Zane over the edge. He thrust inside her, again and again. She moaned. She gasped. She loved the sound his breath made, that soft little grunt, every time his groin met hers. Over and over, he thrust, and she took him, her muscles clenching, tightening, as something curled inside her, tighter and tighter.
Zane’s jaw muscles flexed, and she could feel his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips, and she jolted with each contact of their hips. Hotter, faster, she could feel the heat building inside her, inside him. Her head tilted back, and she cried out as a hot wave of euphoria swept her away, and she heard his shout of exultation as he joined her.
It took them a few moments to climb down to reality, but when she did, she enjoyed the warmth of Zane’s embrace. Which was unusual, as she didn’t do cuddles.
Panting, Zane tilted his forehead against hers. “Damn. That was...unexpected.”
His words brought a cold wave of realization that quickly chased away the heat of their passion. She swallowed, could feel the heartbeat in her chest slowly decrease to a more normal rate. She’d done it. She’d had sex with a werewolf.
A little voice suggested she’d made love to a werewolf, but she shoved it aside. She didn’t do love. After nine hundred years, she’d learned love was really just a fleeting phase of a strong affection.
She’d had sex with a werewolf—willingly.
Oh, so willingly.
This could never get out. This could never happen again. Her father wouldn’t understand, and the sense of betrayal, of disappointment, he’d felt when he thought she’d told Alpine of his plans would pale into insignificance if he ever found out she’d been intimate with the enemy.
She nodded, then swallowed again. “Whoa.” Her voice came out thin and raspy. She looked down at their bodies, chests heaving. His skin showed a slight sheen of perspiration, his abdomen scored with tight muscles, and those muscles rippled as he stepped back. She closed her eyes at the sensation of his body leaving hers. He was...intoxicating. Already, her body was looking forward to the next time.
Only, there could never be a next time. Vivianne stiffened at the intrusion of reality. Feeling strangely vulnerable, she grabbed her silk blouse from the bench beside her, and slid her arms back into the sleeves, holding the front panels closed with her hands.
Zane’s gaze dropped to her chest, and her cheeks warmed. Her breasts still felt sensitive, the nipples tight against the silk fabric—and probably plainly visible to him. She refused to look down though, to acknowledge the effect his presence still had on her.
She had to claw back some control, some distance. They were already sharing so much, she was afraid she’d share everything.
And that thought scared the hell out of her, because it made her want to curl up into his chest, to cuddle, and whisper, and share her fears, her desires... Make her comfort and security dependent on another.
No. She’d learned from her father that family could be trusted—but only up to a point. Putting faith in others—not so much. None of her colony, her family, would understand her association with a werewolf. None of them would accept it, either.
She eyed Zane, schooling her expression into something that she hoped looked calm and serene, and hid her turmoil inside. She was very good at hiding her emotions. Another thing she’d learned fast in her nine hundred years. And yet, this time she felt something curl inside her, something that seemed just a little hurt, a little disappointed, at her course of action.
Zane’s lips tightened, and he adjusted himself, zipping up his fly.
“We should get back to work,” she told him.
He arched an eyebrow. “Work?”
“Yes, work. We have a lot to learn.”
Oh, wow. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who could wear a mask. Zane’s expression grew shuttered, impassive.
“Yeah. We do,” he said, his voice low.
* * *
Zane walked down the tunnel to his quarters, checking over his shoulder every now and then. He didn’t want to be surprised by a member of his pack. He covered the bandage on his upper arm with the sleeve and lapel of his jacket. After their time in the kitchen, Vivianne had become a hard task master—as though wanting to teach him what he needed to know in as short a time as possible. To be rid of him? His lips tightened. He was still trying to figure out what had happened. One moment she’d been crying out with pleasure in his arms, the next she’d shut down on him.
His beast growled sulkily at the memory.
Harris had returned, and she’d sent her guardian on a second, much longer errand. Harris had grumbled, and she’d felt guilty on insisting, but her bodyguard finally left once more. Then she’d train with Zane for hours. She’d been right, though. Her meditation was in no way warm and fuzzy, and very much sharp and deadly. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said he’d be dodging knives. He’d been surprised with her reflexes—and her aim. She’d managed to nick him.
Twice.
His fault. Vivianne was very distracting.
But he’d learned a valuable lesson. The first time it had happened, he’d vamped out on her, the blood haze coming on so fast as his body had reacted with pain and anger.
The second time, he’d flashed his eyes, and his gums had itched, but he’d taken some deep breaths, and practiced her calming techniques. It had worked, he’d been able to tone down the reaction. For the first time, he’d felt that maybe he could control this situation.
“You’re out late,” a deep voice said from a dark bend in the tunnel. Zane halted, muscles tensing, and he inhaled, held his breath until the count of four, then exhaled. His gums itched for a moment, and then the irritation subsided.
He shook his head. “You shouldn’t sneak up on me like that, Nate,” he told his friend as the guardian prime emerged from the shadows.
“I didn’t. I’m just on my way back from a meeting with Samantha.” Nate gestured over his shoulder, then frowned. “Where have you been? We all missed you at supper.”
“I went for a run.” Zane hated lying to his friend, but he wasn’t ready to tell him the truth. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to tell him the truth. “Is everything all right?” It wasn’t unusual for the alpha prime and guardian prime to meet regularly throughout the day, but at this time of night, it was generally pretty serious.
“River Pack have reported some missing lycans.” Nate shrugged. “We were just trying to figure out what resources we could provide to help locate them.” Nate tilted his head. “You’ve been gone for hours.”
Zane frowned. “I wasn’t aware I had to account for every minute of my day.”
Nate frowned back. “You don’t, but, Zane, you’re back from the dead. We were worried about you.”
Zane ducked his head. He felt like a jerk. He shouldn’t have snapped—not to his guardian prime. Nate had every right to want to know where his guardians were, just in case he needed them. Normally he’d advise his friend where he was going. This time, he hadn’t. He hadn’t wanted to lie, so he’d avoided
him all together.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I’m trying to get back into shape, build on my stamina,” he told him, which wasn’t quite a lie. “I want to make sure I’m strong enough to do my job.”
As yet, Nate hadn’t given him any boundary drills, or put him on shift for any guardian duties, and Zane wondered if it was to give him a chance to fully recuperate, or if Nate doubted his ability to perform after such a long...break—or whether Nate suspected something was wrong.
Did vampirism make you paranoid? He hated this, the hiding, the lying, the practice of deceit. He’d learned he wasn’t a fan of deceit. If he thought Nate wouldn’t kill him, he’d rather tell Nate the truth about what was going on—not only because the guy was his guardian prime and as such commanded a certain level of respect, but because Nate was also his friend. Zane wanted to trust him. The problem was, Nate would probably kill him for it. Whether it was turning vamp, or associating with a vamp—his lips twisted. Associating. He and Vivianne had done a whole lot more than “associating”...and he wanted to go back and talk. Okay, make love to her—real love, instead of a snatched, hot quickie in the kitchen.
Ah, hell. He was damned.
Nate eyed him closely for a moment, then nodded. “I appreciate that. Hey, let me know when you’re going out next time, and I’ll try and come with you and run some drills. We’ll get you back on track.”
Zane smiled weakly. The thought of Nate being anywhere near him when he was trying to learn to control his bloodlust was something he wanted to avoid at all costs. He’d hate to wig out and attack Nate. He’d also hate for Nate to see him at his worst, and kill him for it. He swallowed. Everything always came back to that. After being “dead” for so long, he didn’t want to return to that state any time soon. He’d found a new value for life.
Nate slapped him hard on the shoulder as he passed. “Good to see you out and about, Zane.”
Zane sucked in a breath, then nodded at Nate, turning to watch his friend saunter down the tunnel. Zane then hurried to his den, pulling his door closed behind him. He hissed as he removed the jacket, and looked down at the newly stained bandage. Nate had hit him hard on his wound. He winced as walked through to his bathroom, and it wasn’t until he was unwinding the bandage that he realized what had just happened.
He’d suffered pain, and had been surprised—but he’d managed to keep his teeth in his gums.
Vivianne’s sharp and deadly approach seemed to be working.
* * *
“Imagine you’re shifting into your beast,” Zane instructed his student. Yep, that’s how this “association” was going to go. Teacher and student. Not...hot, sticky lovers. Vivianne had made that perfectly clear.
And he wasn’t happy. His beast wasn’t happy. But Vivianne needed his help to learn to shift, in order to hide it from her folks, and if protecting her meant giving her the right tools to protect herself, then he could suck up all this unwanted attraction and get on with the job.
Vivianne frowned. “I don’t have a beast.”
They were in the woods just beyond the small town of Summercliffe. On Nightwing land, but a section that bordered both Alpine and Woodland pack territory. It was an area where few of Vivianne’s vampires would venture, and off limits to the werewolves. They’d have space to shift and run away from prying eyes—if Vivianne could manage a shift.
“Everyone’s got a beast. That’s the source of your shifting.”
Vivianne shrugged. “I don’t think I’ve got a beast.”
Zane frowned. “So what do you feel, just before you start to transform?”
“Pain,” Vivianne said immediately.
Zane nodded. “Yeah, we all get that. But what about before the pain?”
“Uh, tingling—like pins and needles, only a little more painful.”
“Do you have an unsettled feeling? Like something moving around inside you?”
Vivianne frowned. “You mean, apart from the bones that are breaking and reforming?”
Zane sighed. “Okay, here, sit.” She was fixated on the pain that came with shifting. He’d have to get her past that. Otherwise her first full-body shift could be excruciating.
Vivianne looked at the forest floor, and grimaced. “It’s dirty.”
“Of course it’s dirty. It’s...dirt.”
“But I don’t want to ruin my outfit,” she protested. She was wearing a dark trousers and another one of her customary silk blouses. This one was the color of midnight, an inky blue that looked very attractive on her. She’d scheduled an early evening meeting, and had slipped out of her office. She hadn’t had a chance to change, and Zane fluctuated between amused and exasperated with her traipsing through the woods in her executive attire. This time, it was exasperation. Zane tilted his head back. Okay. This was going to require some patience. He almost told her that she’d be going through a lot of clothes, as a werewolf, and then decided that was a surprise she could figure out on her own. He shrugged out of his jacket and laid it on the ground, outer layer on the dirt, and made a courtly bow. “Milady, please doth takest this seateth.”
She shot him a tight look, and then subsided on his jacket. She curled her legs to the side, and braced herself on her left palm.
“Comfortable?” he asked her. She nodded. “Good. Okay, close your eyes—”
“You’re not going to stick me with a needle, are you?”
“It would serve you right if I did. But no, I’m not going to stick you with a needle. I’m not going to hurt you at all.”
She stared suspiciously at him for a moment, then closed her eyes. Then he saw her left eyelid crack open a little. “Close them both, Viv. You’ll need to concentrate for this.”
She sighed primly, but obeyed his instruction.
“Good. Okay, you need to relax.”
“I am relaxed.”
Zane arched an eyebrow. Today her hair was pulled back into a tight bun at the base of her neck. Her silk blouse had this little silky tie thing at the neckline that was done up in a pretty bow. Her pants were figure hugging, and her ankles were neatly crossed, her feet sheathed in black heeled boots that were hell for hiking, but still managed to make her legs look long and shapely. She looked exactly like she was—a business executive way out of her element.
“Just think, you’ve got nothing to do, no deadlines—”
“I have heaps to do, and everything is pretty much urgent,” she argued. “I can’t just sit here and twiddle my thumbs, waiting for my ‘beast’ to speak to me.”
Yep, lots of patience. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then sighed. For the amount of time he’d known Vivianne, he’d never seen her sit quietly and do nothing. If she sat, she was on her phone, barking orders over her desk, or reviewing some report, and yet she managed to be focused on each task as she performed them. The other day, when they’d started this training program, he got to feel what it was like to be the target of that focus. Vivianne had been incredibly patient with him. Well, aside from that shared moment in the kitchen. Then she’d been deliciously impatient. But with the training, he’d been surprised—and impressed. She’d never once lost her temper with him—which had to be a record. She’d been calm, composed, controlled, and he felt much more capable of wrestling with this nightmare that was becoming a vampire werewolf.
Right now, though, she looked a little too prissy to get in touch with her inner beast. He sat down behind her, his back against a tree, and stretched his legs out either side of her hips. He drew her back against him. Damn, she smelled fantastic. All heat and spice.
“Just relax,” he told her.
“Is this really necessary?”
“Hey, you thought throwing knives at me was necessary. This should be a walk in the park. Trust me, I just want to help you.”
She sighed impatiently, then shifted until her back was resting on his chest. He closed his eyes. D
amn, she felt good. All warm, soft curves.
“Now what?”
His lips quirked. She was so eager to get things moving, to take action. She wasn’t the kind of person to sit back against a tree in the middle of the night and watch the stars.
“Look up,” he told her. She leaned her head back against his chest and glanced up. “What do you see?”
“Uh, trees. Stars. Clouds. The moon.”
“Do you recognize any constellations?”
She twisted to look back at him, her brown eyes confused. “You want to look at the stars?”
“I want you to relax, and give yourself to the moment,” he told her. “Being a werewolf, shifting from human to lycan and back again—it’s about freedom, Vivianne. Being free to be wild. It’s about noticing the little moments, and letting yourself go. Smell the forest. Taste it. Feel it. Surrender to it.” He wanted to let go, to lean down and kiss those pouty lips of hers... He indicated the night sky above them. “So tell me, what do you see?”
She settled back against him, and he smiled when he felt her shoulders relax.
“Well, there’s the Big Dipper, and Sagittarius...” They talked quietly for the next little while, watching the breeze stir the tree branches above their heads.
Vivianne sighed, and he heard the wistfulness of it. “What?” he asked quietly.
“My mother loved stargazing. When I was a little girl, she used to come kiss me good night, and we’d sit on my bed by the window and name the stars.”
Zane stroked Vivianne’s arms through the silk blouse. The night air was cool—it was midspring, but they were still close to the Alpine border, and snow was about a two-hour hike away. Yet Vivianne never seemed bothered by the temperature. Still, it was almost instinctive, this need of his to touch her, warm her.
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