“Did he talk to you during the Untying?” Vera brought her legs up to the edge of the daybed.
“He isn’t the talkative type, but afterward, he told me I had pleased him.” The recent memory made Mirella smile. “He called me kitten.” She spooned some of the date soup and brought the carved ladle to her lips.
“He did?” Vera broke a chunk from the sweet loaf and handed it to Mirella.
Savoring the chewy dough, she nodded. “He sounded sweet even.” She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she began eating. “I mean, in his gruff way, he sounded sweet. He whispered to me, then kissed the bite on my shoulder—” Blushing, she immediately regretted her slip.
“He bit you—” Vera started.
“Of course, he bit her. He’s a werewolf,” Lucilla said, waving her hand in the air.
“How was it?” Vera asked.
“Being bitten?” Mirella took another spoonful.
“That too. But I meant how was it when he took you?” Vera was never one to mince words.
Whenever the sisters had gathered to review Mirella’s lessons, Vera was always the one who asked for the details.
“He’s huge—” Mirella put down the spoon.
“How huge?” Lucilla walked around the bed and sat on the dark hardwood. The surface was polished to a shine and mirrored her sitting form with the fireplace’s flame as a background.
“I thought he was going to lacerate my channel, but then he moved and it was okay.”
“Okay? As in you didn’t die of excruciating pain? Or okay, it was pleasant?” Vera pushed the tray toward Mirella and sat more comfortably.
“It was pleasant.” Mirella ate some more bread. “It was more than pleasant. He caressed me, and I felt a fire burning inside. Like a pressure starting from my very core and radiating everywhere else. Then he touched me intimately and I exploded. Waves of pleasure washed over me until I couldn’t think straight.” Telling the experience awakened her senses, and she felt warmth between her legs. “Mrs. Claretta’s lesson didn’t even come close to explaining what happened.”
“It doesn’t seem so.” Lucilla shifted on the floor.
“I can’t wait to have a husband myself,” Vera commented with a grin.
“How did your evening go?” Mirella asked, and her sisters launched in a detailed account of the festivities held at the Vestal House.
Chapter Five
The pink morning light of Coral, Lupine’s pale sun, illuminated Valentine’s studio, casting soft shadows. The wall-to-ceiling windows opening onto the hanging gardens let the breeze in. It was Spring, and the orchid trees were in bloom, filling the jutting terraces with color and a lingering citrusy perfume. Any other time, Valentine would have enjoyed the view and let the floral scents soothe his temper.
But not this time. As Gabriel Martelli talked, Valentine’s mind kept wandering back to the activities of his wedding night.
Crossing his long legs before him, his vampire guest smiled. “Has your little wife so enchanted you that you can’t bother to listen to a word I say?”
Gabriel had known Valentine since their time on Sidera Prime. At one point, during the Revolution War, they had even shared quarters. For a werewolf and a vampire to be so intimately acquainted was a rare occurrence. The fact that they had remained friends afterward, and that they still frequented each other after more than a century on Lupine was unheard of. In fact, Gabriel’s sire and Valentine’s father had been sworn enemies.
Valentine stood and refilled his goblet with a generous amount of the aged Laurum Gabriel had just gifted him. “How long did you say you were going to stay again?”
“Your memory is also failing. You invited me for the whole month.” Gabriel raised his vessel for Valentine to pour for him too.
“I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Could it be that you needed a friend while the Solarians visited?” He shrugged.
“Those Barbarians. They’ll arrive in a few days and I’m supposed to entertain the High Lord the entire time they are here.”
“Dragon Sol isn’t that bad.”
“So you say.”
Gabriel cocked his head and grinned. “Anyway, Solarians aside, I’ve never seen you so besotted.”
Valentine couldn’t help but laugh. His friend was a romantic. He had never understood that side of the vampire, but Gabriel was able to sprout nonsense like that at command. When the whole of Celestia would have bent over backward to please his every whim, Gabriel took the time to court his lovers.
“You are playing with fire.” Valentine took his friend’s goblet and filled it with the burgundy drink. “Taking a wife is an obligation to me. I don’t have it easy—”
“I know, I know. I just have to bite a prospect and share blood to create my progeny,” Gabriel said with the bored tone of someone who had repeated the words one time too many. “But you well know it isn’t that simple.”
“All that crap about soulmates and doing the right thing.” Valentine dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “At any rate, it’s simpler than having to wait for the genetically engineered bride to be conceived, grow up, reach her twenty-fifth birthday which must coincide with a Fifth Moon revolution, and finally bed her.”
“I concede you have it slightly more complicated than I do.” Laughing, Gabriel shook his head, then took a gulp from his goblet. “When will I see your bride?”
“Why do you want to see her?” Valentine walked to the breakfast table and filled a plate with savory pastries.
“Mirella Canalis is to give you an heir. I’m curious about her.”
Valentine found his friend’s curiosity inappropriate. “Mirella Canalis won’t be among us long.” His tone matched his irritation.
“Don’t get angry at me. It’s not my fault she won’t survive her pregnancy.”
“It’s not my fault either. It’s just the way it is, but I don’t see the point in parading her in front of you.”
“Why do I have the feeling that you don’t want to get too attached to her?”
“I don’t know where that idea came from.” Valentine ate the pastry but didn’t taste it. He wondered if his Vital Essence had already taken hold in Mirella’s womb. “And it’s not a matter of getting too attached. I will visit her chamber until her pregnancy is confirmed, then I’ll forget she ever existed.”
Gabriel walked to the window, where he stood giving his back to Valentine. “Even coming from you, that’s cold.”
“I’m being practical.”
“You could be compassionate for a change.”
“What for? She’s going to die in childbirth. My kindness won’t change her reality.”
“But it would make what’s left of her life so much better.”
“She doesn’t know her days are numbered.” Valentine bit into a second pastry, and its lake shrimp filling exploded in his mouth.
“And thank the Goddess for that small mercy.” Gabriel turned, his blue eyes alive with the fire of indignation. “That’s the only part of the whole process I find humane.”
Valentine hated to admit it, but he didn’t like it when his friend spoke to him with the truth. For reasons unknown to him, he had always valued Gabriel’s opinion. “I know you think we are less civilized than Solarians, but what alternative do we have?” He pointed outside, at the big shadow of Sidera Prime. “If I don’t obtain an heir, my lineage is done. My father wasn’t able to give me brothers, so it’s up to me to carry our genes.”
Gabriel raised his perfectly chiseled eyebrow. “If your ancestors had looked into it, I’m sure they would have found a different solution.”
“It’s hard to say when the majority of the Terran scientists died in the voyage.” Valentine poured lemon-infused water into his goblet, then shook it to rinse the Laurum. “And nobody suspected shifters and vampires’ physiologies would be affected by the prolonged exposure to outer space.” He threw the water into an empty decanter, then filled the glass with more lemon wat
er. “Werewolves just got the short end of the stick.”
“Who would’ve thought that we would be free from the night and day cycle—” Gabriel said.
Valentine raised his cup. “And that we would’ve lost our ability to shift and procreate.” He drank the water, letting it slosh inside his mouth to wash his palate. “Being creatures intimately connected to the Moon and its cycles, we should’ve imagined that traveling for centuries in deep space would have cut that tie. But still.”
Valentine’s ancestors had been on Valentia, the first space station launched from a dying Earth. Looking for a way out of the impending doom, they embarked on the long journey, only to find out they would soon be extinct despite their efforts. Biting a human no longer produced werewolves. Once in deep space, the lack of moon cycles killed the pregnant she-wolves one by one, until the only females left were barren. Stricken by grief, they succumbed to a form of mass hysteria and committed suicide. By trial and error, shifter scientists bred human females who could be impregnated by a werewolf. Male embryos would reach the end of the third trimester while females were expelled soon after conception. The only problem was that the human mothers wouldn’t survive childbirth.
A handful of humans were selected to carry the modified genes of the Blessed Brides, and a whole new cult was born around those daughters who ensured fame, wealth, and posterity to their families. On Lupine, bearing a Blessed Bride was considered the highest honor, and since their birth was a rare event that happened only once every two or three hundred years, people forgot the mothers never survived. Only the werewolves knew because their lifespan was longer. Alongside the High Priest, they were also the only ones who could access the records in the Holy Annuals.
“I still think that you should use your wealth to find a cure.” Gabriel walked past Valentine and patted his shoulder, leaving him in a dark mood.
Chapter Six
By night, Mirella felt much better. Her sisters’ visit had helped her a great deal, and the long shower in the en-suite bathroom and the three meals she ate did the rest. Also, she was glad a servant had brought her new clothes, and she now wore a woolen tunic over a silken dress and soft leggings.
Once refreshed and revitalized, she had looked for a way out of the chamber and discovered that the screen door leading outside was locked. She remembered passing through a double set of doors, but she hadn’t thought to find them closed. Heavy disappointment hit her, and after walking the whole perimeter of the chamber three times, she reclined on the daybed and napped for the majority of the afternoon in front of the fireplace.
Of course, she had known that once married she would live at the Vestal House until she gave Lobo an heir. But, as per everything else in life, knowing something and experiencing it firsthand were two completely different things. Since she could remember, her health had always been of paramount importance to her family, but from now on every aspect of her existence would be strictly monitored by the medicus, and that was the reason she was confined in the Vestal House.
A knock on the large screen door announced she had visitors. Her heartbeat sped at the thought it might be her husband, but her hope was soon crushed when the medicus appeared from behind the screen.
“Good evening, Blessed Bride.” The robust man stepped inside the chamber, followed by the two ancillae. “How do you feel tonight?”
“I’m well. Thank you.” Mirella dropped her feet to the floor.
“You look well.” The medicus walked to the daybed and opened his leather bag. After rummaging inside for a moment, he pulled out a stethoscope and a black, rigid pouch. “Let me take a look at you.” He leaned forward and with gentle fingers opened her tunic, then slipped the cold stethoscope inside her dress and pressed it against her chest, humming to himself. “Excellent.” He then unbuttoned the front of her dress and took a good look at her bruises. “Sore?”
“A little,” she answered.
The ancillae gave her a sympathetic look.
“I’ll make a salve for you.” The medicus wrote something on a worn-out, orange leather notebook. “Do you have any questions?”
“Would it be possible to raise the temperature in this room?” she asked.
Closing the lapels of her dress, the medicus answered, “There is a specific reason for the cold temperature. Master Lobo’s Vital Essence is stronger under fifteen sol, but I’ll ask to raise it to twenty-five when you are alone. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“I’d love to go outside.” Mirella felt the ancillae’s pitying looks and pulled the tunic close over her chest. “Maybe visit my family once in a while?”
With a sad smile, the man patted her arm. “You’re kept here for your own safety. At the moment, there isn’t a person on Lupine more important than you are. You are the first Blessed Bride in almost three hundred years, and House Lobo has been patiently waiting for you all this time. The Brotherhood of the Wolf has charged the High Priest and I with the job of taking care of you because Master Lobo has numerous enemies who want you dead.” He sighed. “Having said so, I’ll see what I can do to make your residence here more agreeable.”
“Thank you.” Mirella bowed her head slightly.
The medicus pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ll let the High Priest know you must be given access to the terrace jutting from the external hallway.” To her frown, he added, “Behind that concealed door,” he pointed at what looked like a carved panel decorating the wall opposite the fireplace, “there’s a narrow bridal passageway that leads to a high-walled balcony.”
Mirella immediately perked up.
With a somber expression, the man continued, “The parapet is taller than you, but it’s carved granite, and you’ll be able to peek in between the holes.”
“Thank you,” Mirella repeated, but with more sentiment.
“Now, let’s draw some blood to check your vitamin levels.” The medicus took the rigid pouch from where he had left it on the daybed.
“But I’ve had my blood taken only two days ago.” Mirella eyed the long needle the medicus had extracted from the pouch.
“I know, but starting today we’ll need a fresh sample every few weeks.”
“Why?”
“To check that there are no significant differences in your vitamin intake. And if there is, I’ll need to change your diet.”
Unhappy, but resigned, Mirella raised her tunic sleeve and offered her forearm. The prick only lasted a moment, and the chamber of the syringe was filled with scarlet blood right away.
“See, nothing to worry about.” The medicus removed the needle, sealed the syringe, then gave Mirella one of his paternal smiles. “Before I leave, here is an ointment for you to use after you are visited by Master Lobo.” He stored the blood inside the pouch, then produced a small glass jar from his bag and handed it to Mirella. “Would you like one of the ancillae to show you how to spread it between your folds for maximum efficacy?”
Mirella blushed. “No, thank you.”
Her answer earned her yet another sympathetic look from the girls.
“Then I’m done here.” The medicus straightened to his full height and left, followed by his silent shadows.
Once alone, Mirella opened the jar and took a sniff of the dusty pink substance inside. It smelled like roses, much alike the oil she had been anointed with the night before.
She was deep in thoughts when the screen door was abruptly opened and Master Lobo burst into the chamber like a tornado. The werewolf’s stride was long, and he was by the daybed a blink later. He towered over her, his large chest rising with every breath, and his nostrils flaring. The green speckles in his hazel eyes shone as if lit from the inside.
Without saying a word, his big hand reached for her arm and Mirella was pulled off the daybed and propelled toward the four poster bed. In a frenzy, he pushed her down to the mattress, then yanked her tunic away and snarled when he found the dress beneath. The silk was ripped away next, and a moment later her stockings were slashe
d by his fingers.
With her clothing in tatters, she watched as Lobo reached for his belt and lowered his pants to his thighs.
“Stop,” she said, her voice but a whisper.
He hadn’t heard her though and advanced between her legs, causing the mattress to dip with his weight.
“Stop, I said.” Her voice was now louder.
Lobo’s eyes snapped as if he was coming out of a trance. “What did you just say?” His voice was hoarse and deep, resembling a growl.
Mirella gathered all the courage she could muster and straightened her back. “I don’t want to be raped.”
With a snarl, he answered, “You are mine to do as I please.”
“Does it please you to hurt me?”
“What if it does?”
“Then I can’t do anything to stop you, but at least I tried.”
Her words seemed to puzzle him, but Lobo regained his arrogant expression and jerked her legs wide open with a rough push of his hands on her thighs. “You won’t talk to me like that again.” He pulled her under him. “Understood?” His fingers pinched her soft flesh. “Nod.”
She lowered her chin, angry tears stinging her eyes.
A moment later, he was on top of Mirella, his weight pressing her down as she sank into the high mattress. Panic took hold of her. She readied her body for the invasion, anticipating the pain, but Lobo lowered his hand to her core and stroked her slowly. The fingers that had bruised her but a moment ago were now soft, slowly circling her flower, opening its petals with delicate precision. A moan escaped her throat, then a second.
Lobo’s other hand cupped her breast, kneading and pinching, but never too hard. Then his mouth descended upon her throat, his fangs scraping her skin. Both his hands stopped their movements and pressed down in a possessive gesture. As fast as it had shifted from panic to pleasure, Mirella’s excitement turned to fear once again.
“Never forget your place, kitten.” Releasing her breast from his tight hold, Lobo took her chin in his hand and slanted his mouth over hers in a punishing kiss.
The Fifth Moon's Wolf (The Fifth Moon's Tales) Page 3