Lydia Dare Wolf Bundle

by Lydia Dare

  Sitting in one of the duke’s chairs, Major Forster raked a hand through his hair in frustration, while Will, standing sentry at the imposing desk, pinned her with his gaze. “I do wish you wouldn’t try to irritate Simon. It just makes things more difficult for the rest of us.”

  She gulped, suddenly not certain if she would ever get accustomed to Will and the others overhearing every breath she took, every word she uttered. Wasn’t one entitled to a little privacy? Prisca tipped her nose haughtily in the air. “And I wish he wasn’t such a bully. Now are you going to tell me why Major Forster had Lord Brimsworth?”

  The major’s head shot up, and he waited for Will’s reply, right along with Prisca.

  “I told you he was dangerous, Priss. Promise me you won’t go near him.”

  She had no desire to see Brimsworth. It would have been an easy promise to make, but she didn’t appreciate him dictating the fact to her. “You didn’t answer my question, William.”

  He sighed and crossed the room to her side. “It’s going to be a long night, love. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Can we continue this conversation in the morning?”

  He was leaving? But it was the full moon. He was supposed to transform in front of her eyes. He was supposed to claim her this evening, become a part of her. Prisca’s mouth fell open. “But the moon—”

  “Another full moon will come around next month.” He brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “God willing, we’ll have many more after that.”

  “But, Will—” she began as he stepped around her into the doorway.

  “Major Forster has promised to keep an eye on you for me.”

  None of this made any sense at all, and Prisca’s heart began to race with fear. “William! Tell me where you’re going.”

  “To keep you safe,” he replied quietly. Then he touched his lips to her brow.

  Thirty-Six

  PRISCA STEPPED THROUGH THE GARDEN GATE BEHIND The Hall and looked up at the full moon. Evidently, all that Will had told her of the moonful had turned out to be a lie. She should have known.

  At that very moment, instead of claiming her as his Lycan mate, he was off with his brothers, scouring the woods for the Earl of Brimsworth. Truly, what damage could a lone Lycan do? He seemed fairly innocuous, all things considered.

  Now Lily and Elspeth were irritated with her, presumably because she’d cut into their time during the moonful by occupying their husbands, or perhaps because she’d successfully sent His Grace into a snit and everyone had to deal with him.

  And still, she’d yet to find out what it meant to claim one’s mate. But the very thought of Will laying claim to any part of her made a quick shiver dance through her belly. If just thinking about it made her toes tingle, she could just imagine why the other ladies of the house were so put out by her.

  It wasn’t her fault Brimsworth had slipped away from the major. Elspeth’s father stood inside the house and watched her through the window, even now. Will had handed her leading strings right over to the old officer. And he’d begrudgingly accepted them.

  He’d growled and snapped and snarled at everyone who came near him, ever since he’d returned from his trip with the unfortunate news about Brimsworth’s disappearance. As the moon rose in the sky, it got even worse. Lily and Elspeth had retired to their rooms, and he’d growled almost continually. The only one who seemed to calm him was Alice. When Alice came into the room, the major hovered over her like a hummingbird over a blooming flower.

  Alice did nothing more than touch the side of the man’s face, and Prisca could almost see the tension leave his body. But the hungry look never left his eyes. He looked at Alice like she was the counter-measure to every ounce of pent-up energy within him. And she responded with coy looks over her shoulder that made the man growl. Evidently, passion didn’t fade with age.

  Finally, the major had pulled Alice down into his lap, and Prisca had fled the sitting room. She’d wandered the halls until the light of the full moon caught her attention and she’d sought sanctuary in the garden.

  For years, Will had come to her on the night of the full moon. She longed to sink her fingers into his shaggy brown hair and look into his eyes, which would certainly appear as dark as sapphires under the light of the night.

  Prisca glanced up at the full moon and absently fingered the locket she wore around her neck. Of course, now she knew Will and her wolf were one in the same. She loved them equally. But she wasn’t sure if Will was aware she’d put the pieces of the puzzle together. Would he stop coming to her in wolf form now? Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest at the thought of never seeing her wolf again. Would Will try to put her off with every full moon?

  Prisca stood and shook out her skirts, already damp from the dew of the night. She glanced once toward the window where the major had stood. But he was gone. A small smile tipped her lips as she imagined him stalking Alice.

  It was her turn to stalk Will. Prisca stepped into the woods. It was time to seduce her husband.

  Will lurked in the woods that surrounded Westfield Hall. Unlike his brothers, he’d chosen to stay close to The Hall in case Brimsworth somehow evaded them all.

  He heard a howl in the distance, which he instantly recognized as Simon. Then, from a greater distance, Ben answered. They’d all picked up vague scents of the beast, each trailing off in a different direction. It was as though the wild Lycan had sent them out on a merry chase. Only none of them were feeling very jovial. Simon had nearly taken the major’s head off when he’d returned with the news that Brimsworth was nowhere to be found. Until the old man raised his hackles and stared Simon down. Evidently, even the pack leader paid respect to his elder.

  Will put his nose to the ground, looking for a trail that might indicate the golden wolf stalked the occupants of Westfield Hall. Or, more specifically, one occupant of Westfield Hall. His brothers could take care of themselves. And their wives had already been claimed. Brimsworth would have no desire to take them. Not finding any sign of the earl, Will turned to sweep the grounds again. He ran, enjoying the freedom that came with being in his Lycan form.

  He stopped in his tracks, his claws digging into the soft earth as he stood up straight and tall. Brimsworth’s scent. There it was, dark and dangerous. He’d been here recently, within the last few moments, actually.

  Will searched the ground for tracks, but little could be seen in the mossy earth of the forest floor. He turned, putting his nose back to the ground to follow the scent.

  “Don’t hurt me,” Prisca whispered to the golden wolf that blocked her path, her words choked by the fear in her chest. Before she could take two steps, the hulking beast knocked her to the ground where he loomed over her.

  Prisca covered her face with her arm, certain the beast who’d knocked her down would take a piece of it at any second. Limned by the light of the full moon, the Earl of Brimsworth was a snarling shadow above her. His lips were raised to show his sharp teeth, and a drop of thick saliva dripped from his mouth onto the bodice of her gown.

  Prisca extended her arms behind her and used her arms and legs to walk backward on her hands, slowly trying to slide from below the feral beast.

  The growl intensified. She stopped moving. Her gaze searched the forest floor, looking for a weapon. A large rock would do. A stick might help. But she had nothing close enough to touch. The only thing within her reach was this golden-haired wild dog who looked ready to devour her. Very little of Brimsworth, or what she knew to be Brimsworth, was present in the wolf. He was completely unlike Will, who carried his human traits into his Lycan body.

  The beast placed his paws upon her body and growled sharply in her ear as he snapped his teeth so forcefully she could feel the breeze the action stirred. He pushed her back, but she refused to lie beneath the creature. He could kill her, but she would die fighting. She lifted a hand to grab a hunk of the animal’s hair.

  But from her right, she heard a menacing growl and her glance swung at the same time as the b
east caught the sound as well. Joy flooded her heart while fear encompassed her. William!

  Her gaze swung from beast to beast. They were a study of contradictions. The one atop her was light and feral. The other dark and concentrated.

  She wanted to tell her own wolf to be careful. But he was already advancing upon them. His steps were steady and sure, his actions clear and calculated. She thought she saw worry cloud the gaze of the creature atop her.

  “You should let me up, so he won’t try to kill you,” she told the golden wolf.

  Will’s growl became louder and even more menacing as he came within feet of them. He bared his teeth. He was honestly the most frightening creature she’d ever seen. Yet she felt no fear of him.

  The beast atop her lowered his mouth to where it hovered just over the place where her neck met her shoulder. His teeth scraped her skin. His drool soaked her neck and shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly. But in that moment, her wolf jumped, catching the terrifying creature unaware.

  His black body slammed into the evil one’s, knocking him from atop her. Prisca immediately scrambled to her feet and stepped back. This would be the perfect time to flee. But she couldn’t leave. She searched the area for a weapon, but all she found were twigs and small rocks.

  With very little apparent thought to his own safety, her one true love and her biggest fear at that moment circled one another, as though taking one another’s measure, deciding who would win before the fight even began.

  The golden wolf sprang first. Prisca gasped and covered her mouth as the black one dodged the lunge and clamped his teeth into the animal’s neck. It was a movement intended to kill, Prisca was sure. She wanted to run forward and save her wolf from the burden of dealing with her threat. He shouldn’t bear the brunt of her folly.

  The feral one jerked and spun, kicking and biting wildly. Her wolf didn’t even cry out as the other nipped his skin in places with his sharp teeth. He simply clung to the animal’s neck and held tightly, as though waiting to see how long it would take before the beast submitted. When he didn’t, Will opened his jaws and clamped down again, digging in even deeper. Blood ran from the wounds at the golden wolf’s neck.

  “Don’t kill him,” she whispered. Prisca’s stomach churned at the site. If this continued, there would be nothing left of Brimsworth, and under the light of day Will would hate himself for ripping the earl from this life. But then, as though called from the darkness of the forest, three other wolves approached slowly and silently, each from a different direction. She recognized Blackmoor, Benjamin, and the major right away. One was larger, his fur black with a streak of white over his ear. The other was brown with shaggy hair and hazel eyes. The third was grey and white and had a wizened look about his face.

  “Don’t let Will kill him, please,” Prisca begged. “He’ll never forgive himself if he does.”

  The largest wolf, with the white stripe over his ear, walked over to the fighting pair and stood above them, his growl menacing and ferocious. Her wolf glanced up at him, as though beseeching him to let them be. To let him kill the feral wolf and deal with the consequences later. But the pack leader just growled again and Will released his hold. Brimsworth slumped to the ground, blood pooling around his body.

  Her wolf approached her, and she took a step back. It was a reflex, nothing more. He looked wounded when she moved away from him. A whimper escaped his throat.

  The pack leader nudged at the golden wolf until he shakily found his feet. Then the leader growled lightly until the rest of his pack followed him, slinking into the forest as if they’d never been there.

  Thirty-Seven

  WILL WANTED TO GO TO HER. BUT HE WAS AFRAID TO approach. He knew he’d been beastly with the golden wolf, Brimsworth. He’d nearly killed the man. And she’d seen it all. She’d seen him at his worst.

  In truth, had Simon and Ben not arrived when they did, Brimsworth would be lying in a pool of his own blood, his very life source draining from his open wounds. It was one of the only ways to kill a Lycan, since they could heal themselves. To kill one of his kind, a Lycan had to inflict a sustained wound that would penetrate the flesh, causing the blood to drain from the body. When the body could no longer heal, the Lycan died.

  Will had never seen it happen. But he’d heard the hushed stories at Canis House, the ones whispered about one wolf or another.

  Yet tonight, he’d been there. He’d been the one on the hunt. He’d been the one who wanted to kill. He didn’t know who he should be more disgusted with him—himself or Prisca. He should have had more control, but when he’d seen the beast scrape her delicate skin with his horrid fangs, he’d felt the rage boil within him and finally overflow.

  And she’d watched it all. Every bloody moment. Damn it all to hell. Why had she come into the woods? He’d very clearly told her to stay put.

  The confusion on her face was almost his undoing. If he could have transformed back at that very moment, he would have. He’d never had enough control to shift in and out of Lycan form at will. It could be done, but only through sheer strength of character. That strength was something he’d never possessed.

  She didn’t approach him. She didn’t touch him. She didn’t put her fingers into his hair and stroke him. She didn’t want him.

  He watched her, her eyes wide with what he assumed was trepidation. Maybe disgust. Then he heaved a sigh and turned to follow his pack into the woods. He’d watch to be sure she arrived home safely. But he wouldn’t force her to tolerate his beastly presence any longer than necessary.

  His ears perked up when he heard her voice. “William Westfield,” she shouted. “Don’t you dare walk away from me!”

  His heart nearly pounded from his chest. He turned slowly, not even looking at her at first, afraid to see the expression on her face when he finally caught her gaze. What would he see? Censure? Disgust?

  Very slowly, he looked at her face. She smiled softly at him, and his heart soared.

  “Come here, Will,” she said softly, sinking to the ground a few feet from him. He wanted to go to her more than he wanted the air he breathed. Dare he take the chance?

  He took one step, his legs quivering with fear. She didn’t move. She didn’t run. So, he took another. His legs carried him forward until he was within her reach.

  Please, touch me, Prissy! He wanted to scream it. But, in this form, all he could do was make a high-pitched whine.

  Prisca motioned with her hands. “Come here, Will,” she said, laughter in her voice. “I promise I won’t bite.”

  But I will, he thought, regretfully. He stepped closer, until her hand reached out and gently caressed the top of his head. Immediately, just like every visit with her, the tension and wildness flowed from his body and left him at peace. He leaned into her hand. She laughed and increased her strokes.

  “How many nights have we spent just like this?” she asked wistfully.

  Not nearly enough.

  She leaned down and gently kissed his snout. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

  I wanted to ask you the same question.

  “We need to talk, Will,” Prisca sighed. “Change back to human form.”

  Would that I could. It’s not that easy.

  Will wanted nothing more than to lift her hair and search her creamy neck for marks made by Brimsworth. If he hurt one hair on her pretty little head, Will would kill him on the morrow, regardless of the consequences.

  “Change, Will,” she prompted again. “I know you can. I read about it.”

  She just didn’t understand. Prisca reached up to wipe her neck. He almost got a glance at it, but she moved too quickly. She grimaced. “That wolf drooled on me. I need to wash.” She shivered with disgust.

  Will stood up to lead her back to The Hall. But she took off in the other direction. Where are you going, Priss?

  “If I remember correctly, there’s a stream that runs through here,” she mumbled. “And it collects in a small pool.” Then she squealed when she f
ound it, a smile lighting her face.

  Prisca very slowly began to unlace the bodice of her gown, glancing at him from under her hooded lashes. Desire engulfed him. He danced in place. She turned her back to him as she tugged her fichu from her cleavage. Then she shrugged out of the gown, stepping from the pile of fabric. “Don’t want to get that wet,” she mumbled, as she bent to dip her piece of cloth into the water.

  She stood under the light of the moon wearing nothing but her chemise. She was positively unashamed of her body, maybe because it was perfect. But a small thought entered his mind, that perhaps she wasn’t self-conscious now because she didn’t see him as her equal.

  Moonlight glinted off her hair. Rose-colored nipples called to him from the shadows of her chemise. Her scent swept over him. He inhaled deeply, and that was when he felt the change within himself. He loved her. She was his mate. They belonged to one another. He wasn’t going to let a long tail and snout stand between them.

  The pain of changing back was nothing compared to the joy of knowing he could. His body elongated, making him stand tall and erect. His ears moved from the top of his head.

  She still had her back to him when he transformed. But he heard her heartbeat speed up, nonetheless. When he was fully in his human form, he growled loudly and ran forward, catching her about the waist as he pressed the front of his body against the back of hers. He would draw her into himself, if he was able.

  Prisca spun in his arms and giggled. “I was wondering how much more I’d have to take off before you came to me.”

  Prisca squealed lightly as he scooped her up in his arms and placed her atop a nearby boulder. He cupped her face in his desperate hands, which shook against her cheeks. “Tell me you love me,” he growled.

  “Oh, Will,” she began. She had so much to tell him. Where to start?

  Will stepped back from her as his hands dropped from her face. She reached for him, to draw him back. He was completely naked, so there was no clothing to grab hold of. Instead, she fought to catch his fingers. When she did, she pulled him forward to stand between her parted knees and placed his hand over her heart. “You know I love you,” she whispered.