by Jane Godman
His expression, the way he touched her, it felt like he was learning her body, memorizing every dip, line and curve. After casting aside his boxer briefs, he moved farther down her body and spread her thighs apart, exposing her sex to his view. His eyes devoured her.
How could this feel so good? No touching. Just looking. His gaze scorched her, heated her to the point where she didn’t know how to breathe, how to think.
“Perfect.” Vigo bent his head and licked along the seam of her sex. “Pink and pretty and all mine.”
Amber whimpered as his head dropped lower. Sharp teeth nipped her inner thigh—all healed now—as his fingers held her wide open. Slowly, tauntingly, he inched higher. “Please . . .”
He smiled. “Is there something you want from me, Amber?”
She squirmed, lifting her hips toward him in a silent plea, her thigh muscles quivering with need.
“Tell me.”
Desperate to draw him closer, she threaded her fingers in his hair. “I need your mouth on me, Vigo. Right now.”
Her words drew a rumble from somewhere deep in his chest as he buried his face between her legs. His big hands held her hips, keeping her pinned to the mattress, lifting her tight against his mouth. He growled as he lapped and sucked her throbbing flesh. Sensation tore through her, driving her to new heights of arousal.
Aware of the thin canvas separating them from the others, she stifled the screams that tried to escape her lips, uttering a series of soft gasps instead. When he drew away, she murmured a protest. “Don’t stop. I need . . .”
“I know.” Using his thumb to circle her clit, he leaned in again and drove his tongue inside her. Over and over. Amber felt it building. The layers of sensation began as her heartbeat grew heavier and her chest tightened. It matched the throbbing in her groin until the two pulses merged and spreading fire throughout her whole body.
The burning intensified until she could hardly breathe. Just as she was at the point of passing out, she managed to draw in a great gust of air and cling to consciousness. It was like approaching the mouth of a volcano, gazing into pure, blinding light. Just when she thought she couldn’t stand another second, she slowly tipped over the edge into the molten heat of infinite pleasure. Moaning, gasping, falling, her head exploded with the light from a thousand stars. In that perfect moment, she knew nothing other than the touch of this man and his command over her body.
And then she was back, heart pounding, chest heaving, breath sighing. Through her haze of pleasure, she was aware of Vigo’s harsh breathing matching her own. With her body still quivering, she opened her legs wider as he knelt over her. He paused, gazing down at her face before taking her mouth in an urgent, searing kiss. Just that simple action, his lips on hers, had her wanting him all over again. How was that possible after a climax of epic proportions? All Amber knew was she was already desperate to have him inside her. From the glaze of lust in his eyes and the flare of his nostrils as he inhaled hard, Vigo felt the same way.
His cock was long, hard, and huge jutting from his muscular body and driving her into a renewed frenzy of longing. Amber arched her back in invitation and his expression heated, became fierce with need. He gripped her buttocks, lifting her to him and covered her body with his. A groan escaped him as the head of his cock pressed into her, stretching her.
“You’re mine.” He stayed there. Just an inch inside her as he rested on his elbows, staring down into her face. “You belong to me.”
“Yes.” Amber threw back her head, pressing her shoulders into the mattress and lifting her hips higher, trying to get him all the way into her.
“Say it.” His teeth nipped a line of fire along her collarbone.
What? Was she supposed to have remembered something? With an effort, she dragged herself back from the rapture that was pulling her under. “I’m yours.”
His eyes flashed gold fire, and he slammed hard, filling her in one brutal, wonderful thrust. Amber could feel his shoulder muscles bunching and straining beneath her fingers as he began to pound savagely. The impact of his pelvis on hers was so hard, it lifted her from the mattress.
“More.” She managed to gasp out the word as her world began to narrow. She wasn’t sure what she was asking for, but she knew there was something just beyond her reach. And she knew Vigo could give it to her.
His eyes darkened, taking the intensity to a whole new level. Pulling out of her flipped her onto all fours. Amber’s inner wolf went wild with delight. This was exactly what she wanted. Vigo gripped her hips, lifting her ass higher as he rammed into her from behind, taking her the way they both needed.
From this angle, he seemed even bigger, stretching her to the point where the lines between pleasure and pain were blurred. The drag of his iron-hard shaft over her sensitive flesh was the sweetest burn. Amber went down on her elbows, bowing her head and pressing her mouth the pillow to stifle her scream of pleasure. Vigo paused, his cock buried all the way inside her, his hands still holding her hips.
“Is this okay?”
When Amber tried to speak, the only sound that came out was a muffled gasp. Looking over her shoulder at him through the curtain of her hair, she nodded. Moving her hips, she showed him what she wanted, watching his face as she fucked him, taking him deep. He barked out a curse, then he was powering into her again, all restraint gone.
There was no warning this time, no sense of her body preparing for release. Amber’s orgasm hit her full force, hard and fast. Her inner muscles clenched around him so tight Vigo ground out a rough exclamation, his movements becoming desperate. The intensity of her climax left her shaking and clawing the sleeping bag as Vigo jerked against her, pumping out his own release.
When he withdrew, he collapsed to one side, pulling her down next to him. After they lay still for a few minutes, Vigo raised himself on one elbow and brushed the hair off her face. He stared down at her, his expression unreadable.
His fingertip was gentle as it followed the line of her upper lip. “Why didn’t I meet you sooner?” There was a trace of something in his voice that hurt her heart.
“Because you are centuries old and I’m only twenty-three?” She smiled mischievously, wanting to lighten the mood and take away the anguish she saw in the depths of his eyes. “You have to admit, it’s quite an age gap.”
He laughed. “That would explain it.”
She snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest, liking the way he smoothed a hand down the length of her hair. “You must have been waiting for me.”
The hand on her hair stilled. She couldn’t see his face, but she sensed his mood change. “We should get ready. It’s going to be a tough day.”
* * *
Ulu in the early morning was a sight to behold. The island’s bleak beauty was enhanced by a blue-gray mist that clung around their knees and carried the salt tang of the water. Kristof had taken responsibility for food preparation and Lowell joined him. Vigo noticed the way Amber distanced herself from the other new recruit, preferring to help Samson and Madden take down the tents. Once he looked her way, he struggled to take his eyes from her. It was becoming an obsession. He forced himself to turn away.
“How does Fenrir eat and drink when he has a sword in his mouth?” It was hardly the most important question given everything else they had to deal with, but Vigo was worried about Gunnar. He needed an excuse with which approach him and start a conversation.
Gunnar looked up from the rock where he was seated. Vigo was shocked at his friend’s appearance. Gunnar looked haggard. His skin, already pale because of his Arctic coloring, was almost translucent. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and the fine lines around them appeared to have been etched deeper overnight.
Even so, his smile was pure Gunnar. Warm, reassuring, and filled with the wisdom of ages. “I don’t know how he manages it, but his guards give him meat and water and he swallows it. The chain keeps Fenrir in a sort of coma, so he doesn’t eat often. Is that the best you can do?”
“What do you mean?”
“Was that question the best excuse you could come up with to approach me and see how I am?” Gunnar’s eyes twinkled.
“Teresa said one of us was conflicted about what we have to do.” Vigo looked across at Fenrir’s cage. “I know how hard this must be for you.”
Gunnar frowned, as though trying to find the words to express himself. “When the gods saw how dangerous Fenrir was becoming, they gave me the task of taming him. At that time, he was just a young werewolf. A human youth, just outgrowing the cub stage of wolfhood. I took him and raised him as my son, attempting to tame his wild passions and teach him love and honor. Like you and I, Fenrir is half wolf. He has all the positive traits of a wolf. He can be loyal and fearless. He can show love for his pack and protect them against all who would harm them. His body grew beyond all expectations and, at the same time, his capacity for destruction raged out of control. When the time came to chain him, I was the only one he trusted. I was forced to betray him and he has never forgiven me.”
“But you love him.”
“I love what he could have been. No one could love what he became. What you see in that cage is not the werewolf I raised. This creature is what happened when Fenrir allowed his evil side to grow out of control. There is nothing left now of the boy I once knew.” Gunnar shook his head. “Teresa is wrong. This is a sad day for me, but I’m not conflicted.”
It wasn’t like Teresa to be wrong about what she could feel, but Vigo let it go. Although the effects of a sleepless night were showing on Gunnar’s face, he seemed resolute. And, he, more than anyone, knew what Fenrir could do. When the time came, loyalty had meant everything to Gunnar and nothing to Fenrir. The bond between them had been broken when Fenrir bit off Gunnar’s hand.
Vigo got to his feet. “We should get moving.”
They left their camping gear where it was. Ulu wasn’t large, but transporting the cage across rough terrain was difficult enough without carrying too many other items as well. There were some things they had to take. Things made of silver . . .
The mist lifted as they walked, giving them views across the island of a landscape that appeared untouched by humans. Wild and windswept, it was monastic in its peace and solitude.
They walked in silence until they reached the northernmost headland. It was dominated by a fortress that should not have been part of this Alaskan scene. The building was part ruin, although its outer walls remained intact. With cliffs on three sides, it seemed to soar out over the surrounding ocean. It must once have been the most commanding point on the island, facing out to view the rest of the world. This remote, end-of-the-world place was where the brotherhood had once faced and defeated Chastel and his followers, that strange group of human would-be werewolf hunters known as the Hellhounds.
Teresa did that appearing-from-nowhere thing she was so good at as she emerged from the ruins and walked toward them. The breeze tugged at her hair and blew the long skirts of her dress back against her legs. She wrapped her arms around her waist as though protecting herself from a storm.
“I rarely come to this part of the island. Something of the sorceress who lived in these ruins lingers still, even after all this time.”
Vigo signaled to the guards to position the cage just outside the fortress walls. They stood together as a group, their mood somber.
“What happens now?” It was Samson who broke the silence. “We get him out of the cage, get the silver sword, and—”
“Don’t be so flippant.” There was a hint of a snarl about Wilder’s interruption.
“Why not? Do you have a plan to do it differently?”
Teresa placed a hand on Vigo’s arm. “It hurts too much, doesn’t it?” She indicated his friends. “You are not cold-blooded killers.”
“We can’t let Fenrir live.” He hunched his shoulders in frustration. “The future of the world is at stake.”
“But this is not your way.” Her voice was soft, almost part of the breeze sweeping in off the sea.
Vigo stared down at her. Had the solution been there all the time, or had it come to him now with Teresa’s words? It was daring and dangerous, but it made a crazy sort of sense. It was the only way to do this that would allow the brotherhood to kill Fenrir and feel okay about it. It brought the fight full circle.
He looked up and met Gunnar’s eyes. His friend’s face registered a brief moment of shock as he recognized Vigo’s intention, then he nodded.
“Open the cage and remove the chain and sword.” Vigo’s voice was firm.
Get ready for a fight with the god of destruction.
Understanding rippled around the brotherhood. The mood change was fast and dramatic, the energy ratcheting up to a new level of a readiness, signaling that he’d got it right.
Hell, yeah.
This was the way the brotherhood did things. Facing the mighty Fenrir would put them in danger, but it felt like their way. Plunging a silver sword into his heart while he was chained? That wasn’t an act of bravery. They would face him, challenge him, give him a chance to die fighting as befitted the son of Angrboda and Loki.
Swiftly, the brotherhood shrugged out of their outer clothing in readiness to shift. Once the cage was open and Fenrir was free of his restraints, Gunnar, Teresa, and the guards stood back.
Slowly, the huge werewolf stretched as though waking from a deep sleep. Lifting his mighty head, he yawned, showing teeth like scimitars. As his eyes opened, Vigo found himself caught briefly in their mesmerizing green-gold beam before Fenrir’s gaze moved on. It was as if he was seeking something specific.
As his eyes encountered Amber’s face, Fenrir’s huge body jerked as though he had been given an electric shock. Vigo sprang forward, anticipating an attack, but nothing happened. Long moments passed as Fenrir stared at Amber. In turn, she appeared almost hypnotized by his stare.
There was a collective murmur of surprise when Fenrir shifted.
What the . . . ?
Fenrir’s human form was unexpected. Handsome, charming, and intelligent, his appearance was as far from the reality of the crazed god of destruction as it was possible to get. He moved into a sitting position and drew his knees up to hide his naked lower body. Through the bars of his cage, his smile caressed Amber’s upturned face.
“Your companions will forgive me for not charging out on the attack as they hoped, but I have dreamed of meeting you, Amber Merova, for a very long time.”
* * *
This was not exactly how Amber had expected the encounter with Fenrir to unfold. Instead of killing a crazed werewolf, she was facing an attractive, alluring man who was . . . well, he was flirting with her. Okay, he was also naked, but she was in her underwear.
He is the god of destruction, why the hell has he been dreaming of me?
The thought brought her back to reality.
“Why have you wanted to meet me?” She didn’t like the way her voice sounded. Breathy and nervous. It wasn’t the voice of a fearless warrior.
“Don’t you know?” Fenrir’s smile deepened. “Because you belong to me. When the time comes, and the debt is paid, we will be together.”
“Take no notice.” Vigo’s tone expressed his disgust. “There is nothing he likes more than getting inside your head and fucking with your thoughts.”
Fenrir’s expression changed in an instant. The beguiling smile transformed into a snarl. “You will pay for laying your hands on my mate, Arctic. When I rip your head from your body, you’ll regret every look, every touch.”
“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’ve heard enough,” Vigo said. “You can carry on issuing threats, or you can shift and fight as a wolf. The choice is yours.”
Fenrir’s laughter was mocking. “You should have left me chained. You will regret the decision to be noble.”
Not getting into this pissing competition. Vigo’s voice was clear in Amber’s mind.
“That’s the difference between us. We believe all life is precious,
and even you deserve some dignity.” Vigo signaled to his companions to shift.
The brotherhood shifted with a storm of Arctic power. At the same time, Fenrir transformed back to his wolf self. There was an instantaneous change in the atmosphere. The air crackled with the intensity of it. Seven huge Arctic werewolves dropped to all fours in unison, baring dangerous fangs and showing razor sharp claws that were perfectly designed to slice through skin and muscle. With a single bound, the giant Marsh werewolf bounded free of his cage and faced them.
I’d forgotten what a fucking monster he is.
Amber had time to recognize Samson’s telepathic comment before her wolf took control, leaving only a remnant of her human to maintain a superficial awareness of what was happening.
She knew what Samson meant. Although she had already seen Fenrir, he had been chained and unconscious. Now he was free, and she was witnessing at first hand the savage creature who had terrified the gods. Her human surfaced long enough to give a sinister reminder. He thinks you are his mate. A shudder of revulsion swept over her. He is trying to scare you. Nothing more.
Fenrir’s growl seemed to shake the ground beneath their feet. His lips drew back, baring deadly teeth and he sprang at the line of Arctic werewolves. It was obvious what he was doing. His attack was focused on Kristof. He was seeking the weak link.
The five experienced males moved in one fluid action. It was clear they had done this many times. They knew how to work in unison to get the best out of an assault and protect each other at the same time. As Fenrir sliced his claws across Kristof’s thigh, Vigo hurled himself onto the Marsh werewolf, sinking his fangs into its shoulder. Amber heard bone snapping under the crushing power of Vigo’s jaws. Fenrir’s howls of pain and rage were deafening.
Turning away from Kristof, Fenrir swung his giant body around, shaking Vigo free and raking his talons over the Arctic leader’s back. It wasn’t a killing blow, but Vigo was immobilized, and his white fur was instantly stained with red. Fury added fire to Amber’s fighting instincts. Her mate was injured . . . and Fenrir was lowering his mighty jaw in the direction of Vigo’s throat.