by Jane Godman
The growl that left Nevan’s throat told Nate his words had touched a nerve. Good. Flinging Violet from him, Nevan covered the distance between them, his lips drawing back to show his teeth. Nate tensed, preparing for the other man to shift.
Before anything happened, Dorotea’s gentle voice reached their ears. “Our son is dying, Nevan.”
Something flickered in the depths of Nevan’s eyes. Briefly, Nate caught a glimpse of the man the Wolf Leader had once been. He saw decency, love and dignity. He saw the pain of loss. The man Nevan had been before his wife’s betrayal destroyed him. Then the shutters came down again.
“You did this to him.” Nevan threw the words at Dorotea without looking at her.
“Don’t let Bartol die because of your hatred for me.” Dorotea’s voice was soft and persuasive. “Remember how delighted we were when he was born?”
“Get her out of here.” Nevan snapped the words over his shoulder at his beta werewolves, but Nate could tell he was shaken.
When Nevan shifted, Nate was prepared for the fight of his life. As Nevan in wolf form circled him, he crouched low, finding the wolf instincts inside himself. He recalled his fight against Dario. Lethal teeth and claws were his enemy’s strength. He had to do all he could to keep them from slashing into the vulnerable parts of his body.
As Nevan lunged, Nate grabbed the huge werewolf by the throat. Nevan had the advantage of speed and strength, and he forced Nate down onto his back. It took every ounce of strength Nate had in his arms to maintain his hold on the snarling werewolf. Nevan’s jaws snapped inches from his face. Nate smelled his fetid breath and read triumph in the golden depths of the werewolf’s eyes. Teeth and claws. He didn’t have the same weapons as Nevan, but he had the element of surprise. Using every reserve of energy he had, he scrambled out from under Nevan, reversing their positions and pinning him facedown under him. Avoiding the snapping jaws, he grabbed one of Nevan’s ears and sank his teeth into fur and gristle.
His mortal rebelled at the idea of fighting this way, but the wolf within him took over. Shaking his head back and forth, he tore into the tender flesh while holding his opponent down. Nevan howled with unbridled fury and bucked beneath him. Nate knew he wasn’t going to be able to hold him for long. Sweet, coppery blood filled his mouth and his teeth ripped through the flesh of Nevan’s ear with a snapping sound as if he was biting into a carrot. When he let go, he spat a chunk of Nevan’s ear onto the floor.
Fuck. All I’ve done is enrage him further.
Nate braced himself for the next onslaught. Before Nevan could hurl himself on him, there was a flurry of activity from the rear of the house as Roko and his resistance fighters burst in through the back door. And that was when all hell broke loose.
The hall of the Voda Kuca resembled a war zone as Nevan’s black beta werewolves launched themselves at the resistance fighters. Roko gave the order for his followers to shift, and carnage ensued. Clawing, biting and tearing, each side inflicted terrible wounds on their opponent before tossing them aside and moving on to the next. Within minutes the beautiful mosaic tiled floor was slippery with blood and littered with bodies of dead and dying werewolves.
Nate glanced around him and found Emil. “Get the women and Bartol out of here.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Violet raised her voice above the fury as she slid her hand into his. “My place is at your side.”
Emil moved quickly, carrying Bartol up the stairs and escorting Dorotea with him. As Nate tried to size up the best way to deal with the out-of-control situation, Nevan closed in on Roko, his teeth bared. Both men were in human form as they faced each other.
“You dared to enter my home?”
“It’s over, old man. You have spent too long fighting personal battles and not enough time taking care of the needs of the werewolf dynasty—”
Before Roko could finish speaking, Nevan shifted. His talons slashed into Roko’s unprotected stomach. Attacking him before he had a chance to shift was a cowardly and unwolflike move. Shock registered on Roko’s handsome face as he dropped to his knees, clutching his stomach. Werewolves didn’t do devious, and Nevan had caught him unawares. Showing no mercy, Nevan went in for the kill. Violet turned her face to Nate’s neck, unable to watch.
A howl rent the air as Teo, Roko’s right-hand man, threw himself on Nevan, dragging the Wolf Leader away from Roko’s body. When he saw what Nevan had done, the young werewolf turned on Nevan, his lips drawn back in a snarl. Nate, reading his intention, had no time to get to him before Teo attacked. Nate had never seen ferocity like it. Teo ripped his opponent apart. Blood sprayed in an arc from Nevan’s severed arteries. Within seconds, Nevan lay dead on the floor, his throat ripped out as Teo stood over him, wiping the blood from his mouth.
“Enough!” Nate took the stairs two at time, pausing on the half landing to look down.
Would they listen to him? Would they recognize his authority? Could he do anything to stop this senseless slaughter? All he knew was he had to try. This was his pack. He belonged here. For the first time he was willing to acknowledge it, not just to himself, but publicly. He wasn’t prepared to let them keep tearing each other apart.
“Your leaders are both dead.” He was pleased his voice held steady and showed none of the shock and horror he felt. Violet came to stand beside him, and he took her hand. Her touch steadied his resolve further. “This ends now.”
No one moved. At least they weren’t charging up the stairs ready to tear his head off. He drew a breath. Think. Deal with the practical aspects. Get them moving away from each other. The dead and dying would have to be dealt with. He knew from experience that werewolves were not truly dead unless they were staked and decapitated. These unfortunate souls might be horribly injured and appear to have ceased breathing, but they would be left maimed and incapacitated unless that final kindness was performed. This would be the test of whether he was in control here.
“Teo, organize a group of men and begin the cleanup operation. These bodies will have to be disposed of according to werewolf law.”
Nate kept his eyes fixed on Teo’s, assessing the other man’s response. After a slight hesitation, Teo nodded. The fire went out of his eyes, and his shoulders slumped into an aspect of compliance.
“There is also Dario’s body in the cells,” Violet said. “We must take care of them all.”
Nate spared a moment to look at her in surprise and admiration. She had overpowered Dario? That was a story for another day, but his beautiful werewolf would never cease to amaze him.
Emil had reappeared after seeing Dorotea and Bartol safely to one of the bedrooms. Violet turned to him. “Take a boat to Vukod and bring Marko and your mother back here to care for Bartol. In a day or two, we can begin the task of returning the refugees to their homes.”
As she spoke, Nate felt the atmosphere in the room shift. He was prepared to take charge if he could, but Violet was seen as Nevan’s daughter and, unlike him, she was a werewolf. This was a hierarchical society, one that recognized the dominance of the alpha male. Would they accept the leadership of a non-wolf alpha and his alpha female? With her hand in his, he felt it might just be possible. He looked back at the remaining werewolves in the hall. They had all shifted back now and were gazing up at Nate and Violet. One by one—whether they were supporters of Nevan or of Roko—they dropped to one knee and placed their right hand over their heart in a signal of allegiance. With a feeling of shock and appreciation, Nate realized the gesture was directed toward the two of them.
Chapter 23
Violet arched her back at the delicious invasion of Nate’s erection. Her muscles tightened around his thick, hot shaft as he plunged deep inside her. She lost her breath along with the ability to think coherently. Tilting her hips, she gazed up at the canopy of trees through half-closed eyes as he commenced a steady, pistoning rhythm.
His cock was like a
brand of fire, imprinting itself in the depths of her body. As he took her to new heights, the pressure built and tightened. She was already so close. Her body was one long tremor after another, her muscles convulsing, preparing for the rising orgasm to rip her apart.
Nate pulled back, keeping her hovering on the brink of climax, and Violet made a soft mewling sound of frustration.
“Bite me.” He threw back his head, the tendons in his neck corded. He pressed his fingers to the spot where his neck and shoulder met. The special place where a bite would mark him as her mate forever. Where the piercing of her teeth would transform him into a werewolf. “Here.”
She opened her eyes fully as he thrust into her again, hard and deep. There was no question about what he was asking. No need for words or discussion. No asking “Are you sure?” or “Shall we talk about this?” Everything she wanted to know was there in his eyes. Her muscles began to tighten and throb around him, and her canines lengthened as she shifted. Her body convulsed as her orgasm neared. As she sank her teeth into his flesh and tasted his beloved blood, fire and energy engulfed her. It wrapped itself around her, in her, coursing through her, exploding over her.
Nate cried out as she impaled him with her bite and his own release overcame him. He drove into her, on and on. Wildly, mindlessly, flesh pounding into flesh, keeping the sensations washing over her until she released him and his body came to a shuddering standstill. Even then, her muscles continued to spasm around him in a series of delicious aftershocks.
“So how fast do these things work?” Nate lay back on the grass, pulling her down on top of him as she shifted back into human form again. Two days had passed since the dramatic scenes in the hall of the Voda Kuca, and this was the first occasion they had managed to snatch any time alone. “How soon before I can run faster than you through the forest?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never bitten anyone before.” Violet leaned closer and flicked her tongue over the wound she had made in his neck. “Felt good, though.”
“Am I supposed to bite you in return?”
Violet sprang to her feet. “You’ll have to catch me first.”
She took off at speed, laughing as Nate’s startled cry followed her. Dropping onto all fours, she shifted as she ran. A noise beside her made her turn her head, and there, running alongside her, was the most magnificent male wolf she had ever seen. Violet threw back her head and gave a single, triumphant howl.
I know you.
The male howled in return, acknowledging her cry, his victorious growl echoing through the woodland.
* * *
Side by side, the two wolves ran through the forest, moving fluidly in time with each other. The male was much larger and stronger than the female. His brown fur was lighter than her black pelt; his brown eyes glowed gold compared with her unusual blue ones. Beside his powerful, muscular frame, she appeared slender. Deep in the woodland, he paused, his body language inviting her to come to him. The female knew her place. Crouching low, she rubbed her face against his muzzle. The male stood proud, graciously permitting this gesture of subservience.
They moved together and apart repeatedly, in a timeless ritual, a mating dance. When they came together for the final time, the female rolled onto her back, trusting him, presenting her unprotected belly to him. Her mate stood over her, baring his teeth as if he was considering ripping out her tender throat. Instead, he rested his jaw against her chest, pressing lightly to reinforce his dominance. When he released her, he nudged his nose down her body, marking her with his own essence. A low, rumbling growl rose in his throat, a sound that might have been anticipation.
He caught the loose fur at her neck between his teeth, and the female froze. Bringing his body over hers, the male sank his teeth into her flesh, and she submitted to him with a soft howl of surrender. Her mate had claimed her, marked her as his own, just as she had taken him earlier. They were bonded together at last, never to be parted. Now, and forever.
* * *
“I’m not sure I believe in fate.” Nate turned away from his contemplation of the view from the window of the study in the Voda Kuca as he spoke. He was still finding it hard to think of it as his study rather than Nevan’s. He supposed familiarity was something that would come with time.
“Fate sure as hell seems to believe in you,” Cal responded with a fervor only someone who had known Nate throughout the last six tormented years could summon.
They were words to make anyone stop and think. They certainly made Nate pause and look back on his life since he had been attacked by a feral werewolf on that fateful night.
His life seemed to have been a series of interlinked turning points, each of them building on the other to lead him to where he was now.
Would he have been able to appreciate what it meant to be Wolf Leader if he had never been feral? There had been no opposition to Teo’s emotional proposal that Nate should take over that role. On the contrary, once it was known that he had Violet at his side, there was universal approval.
Would he have been able to bring the strength and compassion needed to unite the troubled werewolves of the Wolf Nation, if he had no understanding of what had torn them apart? He had been human for most of his life, so he brought a very different perspective to the role, but he loved a werewolf, one who knew more about how to mend the hurt this dynasty had suffered than anyone.
Getting to this point in his life had built him up and torn him down so many times, he had developed an inner resilience he had hardly known was there until he had to call on it to rescue Violet and call a halt to this civil war.
Could he say this had been meant to be? He thought that might be going too far. All he knew was that he was uniquely equipped to fulfil the task he had been given, and he intended to do it to the best of his ability.
And being a werewolf? A full-blown, non-feral werewolf? For the first time in six years he finally felt he belonged. Even with Beast, that had never happened. Ged had tried to rescue him, but he had never been able to find a home for him within the group. Because Nate had been unique and there hadn’t been anywhere he belonged...until now.
When Nate found that place deep inside himself—the one Cal’s silver dagger had been unable to destroy—and shifted, his heart filled with joy. He had never questioned his decision or known a moment’s regret. This was his home.
“Do you need any help from the Alliance with the refugee crisis?” Cal’s question brought him back to the present.
“The refugees are all back on their home island of Reznati. That was our first job when we took over. Everyone from both of the former factions supported us and helped in the task. But rebuilding their communities will be long and slow. When the celebrations are over, I’ll take you to see what needs to be done.”
“Talking of celebrations...” Cal drained his glass, and nodded toward the door. “I think it’s time.”
Nate grinned. “I have never been more ready for anything in my life.”
Everyone agreed that the wedding was beautiful. The bride looked lovely, the groom’s face shone with pride and they were the perfect couple. The only slight hitch occurred when the twins, Jethro and Arthur, who had been given the task of bearing the rings, came to blows in the middle of the ceremony and had to be escorted outside by their embarrassed mother. Stella was full of apologies later.
Violet’s sisters, Gabriela and Marina, were there with their families, together with her other brother, Franko. Bartol’s strength was returning, and he had been well enough to stand throughout the ceremony. The family reunion was as touching to see as the love between the newlyweds.
Violet wore a full-length, white lace gown. There had been much debate about how to find the right garment at short notice. In the attic of the Voda Kuca, Dorotea still had the dress she had worn for her marriage to Nevan, but they were united in their agreement that it would be a bad omen for her daughter to wear t
hat. In the end, the Faerie Queen, Vashti, stepped in to help. She had dresses for every occasion. Violet and Dorotea had spent a pleasurable and luxurious few days at the faerie palace, getting to know each other and gasping over the delights of her wardrobe. Once Violet had found the perfect gown, a flowing one fit for a fairy-tale bride—ordered by Vashti for a formal function and never worn—skillful faerie dressmakers had undertaken the necessary alterations.
The werewolf guests were delighted at the amount of raw meat provided for the wedding feast, while the faeries and mortals among the party heaved a sigh of relief to discover that there were alternative items on the menu.
Cal, who had performed the ceremony, gave a short speech. He talked about the obstacles his friends Nate and Violet had overcome to reach this day, his pride in their achievements and his hopes for the future of the werewolf dynasty under a new, compassionate leadership.
“I once feared that the werewolf dynasty was a story of nobility lost. Now I have hopes it will be a tale of nobility restored.” He raised his glass. “I ask you to join me in a toast to my friend Nate, the new Wolf Leader.”
“Not so fast.” Nate got to his feet, drawing Violet up with him. “There are two Wolf Leaders from now on. We will bring about the changes needed and we’ll do it together. Side by side.”
Dorotea’s voice rang out before Cal could speak again. “To Nathan and Violetta.”
A huge cheer rang out as everyone raised their glasses and Nate swept Violet into a kiss that went on for a very long time. When he raised his head, her eyes were brimming with so much love he felt light-headed.
“I have a wedding present for you.”
She chuckled naughtily. “You are supposed to wait until we are alone. It gets embarrassing for the guests if you don’t.”
“You are a very badly behaved woman,” he said, pretending to be shocked.
She nodded. “And you love it.”
“I do.” He kissed her again. “Come with me.”