Wolf Kiss (Warrior Wolves Book 1)

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Wolf Kiss (Warrior Wolves Book 1) Page 21

by Christine DePetrillo

He bent her forward, his hands covering hers on the boulder and his body draped over her like a heavy blanket. A werewolf blanket. She loved the weight of him surrounding her. When he slid into her from behind, she let out a shuddery sigh and pressed herself against him.

  They fell into an easy rhythm, and in no time, Brandy was soaring. Flying high. Peaking. Diving. Tumbling over the edge with this amazing man, wolf, werewolf… soul mate.

  When they’d both fallen apart in a shower of pure bliss and her legs could no longer support her, Reardon lifted her into his arms and set her in his lap again as he sat on the boulder. His breathing was as labored as hers, but the smile on his face told her he’d enjoyed himself. He caught her lips with his and they kissed in the quiet of the woods until they had to stop for more air.

  “Oh, lass…” Reardon traced circles on her thigh, his big hands rough against her skin. “I didn’t know feeling like this was possible.”

  Brandy nestled closer. “Neither did I, and now that I do know, what can we do to keep you here?”

  He squeezed his arms around her. “Knowing that you want to keep me here fills my heart to overflowing.” After dropping a soft kiss on her forehead, he leveled those gorgeous wolf eyes at her. “But I don’t think Flidae will change the rules for anyone. Least of all me.”

  “There has to be a way, Reardon. I can’t have found you only to lose you.” Brandy shook her head. “My sister, Dylan’s mom, was taken from me. I don’t think I can stand to see someone else I love go.”

  The hopeful look on his face was adorable. “You love me?”

  She fingered his jagged ear. “I love you and your wolf. Does that officially make us soul mates?”

  “There’s a way to make it official.” He set her on her feet and took her hands in his. Without taking his eyes off hers, he opened his mouth, his canine teeth elongating right before Brandy’s eyes.

  She couldn’t look away. The sight of those teeth astonished and fascinated her. “You bite me?”

  He nodded. “I turn you.”

  “Isn’t that what got you in trouble in the first place?”

  “Yes, but my intentions are very different now.” His eyes darkened as he ran his tongue over one of the canines. “I would turn you to bind us in love.”

  A zip of anticipation shockwaved through Brandy. Why did she want him to bite her? Wasn’t that crazy? Where had Dr. Brandy Wendon, scientist, gone? When had she gone completely insane?

  The moment he touched me.

  “Where would you bite me?” she asked. “Will it hurt?”

  “Anywhere you want me to bite you and aye, only for a moment.” He slid his hands to her hips. “Then I promise to make the hurt go away.”

  Electric zip number two raced through her body and she found herself stepping in closer to him, corralling her hair onto one shoulder, baring her neck to him. Before she could think too much about it, she said, “Do it.”

  Another low growl hummed in his throat as he stood and wrapped one arm around her waist. His free hand slid up her arm to rest at her shoulder and he looked at her for several silent seconds, his eyes a warm green-gold with a light of their own.

  Brandy’s heart beat so hard in her chest, she feared it would burst through her ribcage. Her legs were wobbly, her hands clammy.

  But she wanted this. Good God, she wanted this.

  As Reardon lowered his head and the tip of his canine grazed her flesh, a bolt of lightning zapped to the ground, setting some nearby ferns on fire.

  “Shit!” Brandy scrambled for her clothes as did Reardon. “We have to put that out before it catches the rest of the woods on fire! I could lose the entire sanctuary if that happens!”

  She led them to the barn and wrenched a fire extinguisher off the wall. Pushing it into Reardon’s waiting hands, she said, “Pull this pin, aim the hose, and spray! Go!”

  “Aye!” He took off, his long legs covering more ground than she could hope to.

  With fumbling hands, Brandy turned on the spigot at the back of the barn and grabbed the hose.

  “What’s going on?” Parker was suddenly beside her.

  “Lightning strike. Ferns on fire.”

  Parker took the hose from her. “I’ve got it.” He set off in the direction Reardon had gone.

  Brandy jogged behind him and let out a breath because Reardon had the fire out already. A few cloudy wisps of smoke rose from the blackened ferns, but nothing else looked harmed.

  “Lightning, you say?” Parker asked, still holding the hose.

  “Yeah.” Brandy looked up to the sky, which was a cloudless blue. Not a rain cloud in sight. “It came out of nowhere.”

  Parker opened his mouth, but his phone ringing from his pocket stopped him. He reached around and retrieved the phone. “It’s Chella.” He tapped the screen. “Hey, babe. Where are you? I called and said you could bring Dylan to Silver Moon almost an hour ago.”

  Reardon stared at the destroyed ferns. He looked up at the tree tops and Brandy would have sworn he was putting together his own theory for that lightning.

  But she’d seen it. With her own two eyes. And after a day like today, what was so strange about a little rogue lightning? She’d made love with a werewolf for Christ’s sake. Lightning was far more routine than that.

  Although…

  Was it a little strange that the bolt appeared just as Reardon was about to bite her? Did some outside force—some angry goddess—not approve?

  “Something’s not right,” Parker said, his phone still to his ear.

  “What do you mean?” Brandy asked.

  “It’s Chella’s number showing up, but it wasn’t Chella on the line.” Parker pulled his phone from his ear and blinked at the screen. “Chella doesn’t say things like, ‘If you want to stay, I’ll take the boy.’ What does that even mean?”

  Reardon let out a roar that made Brandy jump. Parker’s phone flew out of his hand as did the hose.

  “Flidae!” Reardon yelled. “Flidae, hear me! You don’t harm that boy.”

  Fear washed over Brandy like a tidal wave. “Flidae has Dylan?” Suddenly she couldn’t get any oxygen into her lungs. “Reardon? Does she?”

  He set the fire extinguisher down and grabbed Brandy’s hand. “Not for long she doesn’t.” He stopped in front of Parker. “Take us to Chella’s.”

  “Wait,” Parker said. “Someone tell me what’s going on. Who is Flidae?”

  “Tell you on the way.” Reardon prodded Parker into a jog and didn’t stop until they were in front of Parker’s truck. “Brandy, call Meredith. Tell her to stay inside the house. Tell her we’ll explain when we get back.”

  Brandy followed his instructions while he gathered the sanctuary’s wolves around him. Holding his hands out to them, he appeared to be talking to them.

  “What were you doing?” she asked when he climbed into the back seat of the truck next to her.

  “Asking them to protect Meredith. Trust me, nothing is getting inside your house. Nothing.”

  “What about us?” Parker asked. “What are we driving into? Do we need protection? Does Chella? Is Chella okay?”

  “Flidae wants to punish me,” Reardon said, notes of shame and guilt lacing his words. “I’m certain she will accept an exchange for Dylan and Chella.”

  Brandy scooted closer to Reardon, but he stopped her. “No. What I was about to do obviously angered Flidae. Again.” He rubbed his forehead. “You’d do well to stay away from me.”

  “I can’t.” The two words spilled out of her mouth without her even having to think. “Soul mate, remember? We’ll figure this out together, Reardon. Together we’re stronger.”

  He blinked those green-gold eyes at her. They went from cold and hardened to something warm and loving.

  “Aye. Together.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Reardon silently cursed himself. Once again, he’d been selfish, thinking only of what he wanted. Why hadn’t he learned his lesson? He’d turned his men because he wanted to wi
n against Spain’s enemies. He wanted the spoils that went along with victory. He hadn’t cared what it cost him.

  And now he’d done it again. He wanted Brandy. Gods, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, but Flidae had made it clear he couldn’t have what he wanted. Yet, he’d tried to get it anyway. The moment his elongated canines had neared Brandy’s lovely neck, the goddess had issued her warning. Though his ability to turn another into a werewolf was supposed to be used in the case of finding one’s soul mate, clearly Flidae didn’t think Reardon was deserving of such a partner. Why tell him about turning a soul mate then?

  Just to toy with me.

  You’re not staying here, wolf. The goddess’s voice thundered in his head to the point of being painful. He brought his hands up to his temples and rubbed the ache.

  “Reardon?” Brandy’s hand stroked his forearm and she scooted closer, her body pressing against his side.

  He turned to look at her. So beautiful. So not going to be his. He may have agreed that together they were stronger, but being together put her—and apparently her son—in danger. Flidae was not above using the boy to make sure Reardon suffered appropriately for his crime of turning his men.

  He kept making bad choices. Choices that affected the ones he cared about most.

  “So do I just drive up to Chella’s?” Parker asked from the driver’s seat, his gaze meeting Reardon’s in the truck’s rearview mirror. “Is this Flidae goddess waiting for us? Has she hurt Chella and Dylan?”

  Brandy made an anguished noise, no doubt fearful for her boy.

  “She wants me.” Reardon put his hand over Brandy’s as it tensed on his arm. The notion that her boy was in danger made her crazy. He felt the same way. Dylan had come to mean a great deal to him. He’d bonded with the boy while in wolf form and that bond could never be broken.

  I can break it. Flidae taunted him.

  You don’t lay a hand on the boy. I’m coming. You can have me and do as you see fit. Do nothing to Dylan or Chella.

  Flidae’s laughter filled his head. But I rather like the woman’s form. It suits me.

  Reardon considered those words. Flidae had taken over Chella’s body? This was bad. And what of Dylan?

  I’ve done nothing to the boy. Not yet.

  A sharp pain sliced through Reardon’s chest. Dylan must be so scared and it was all his fault. When would he stop hurting people who trusted him?

  Parker’s truck skidded to a halt in front of a large, white house with a perfectly manicured front lawn. The property was quite different from anything Reardon had seen in the area and certainly in stark contrast to Silver Moon Sanctuary where he’d spent most of his time. Chella’s house suggested wealth and luxury and taste that went far beyond an appreciation for simple natural beauty. The sanctuary property was wild and carefree and exactly where he wanted to live out the rest of his days if given the chance.

  You don’t belong in this time or this place. Flidae didn’t need to remind him, but she appeared to enjoy doing so.

  Reardon immediately hated the house looming in front of them, and his wrath over what was potentially happening inside the pompous residency had him jumping out of the truck before Parker had the key out of the ignition.

  Brandy scrambled out the same door he’d used and stood beside him for only a heartbeat, then she marched toward the house.

  He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

  “Stronger together, remember? We’re going in there together and getting Dylan and Chella. We’re not wasting another minute.” She tried to maneuver out of his grip, but he tightened his hold.

  “No. You stay here with Parker. I’ll send Dylan and Chella out.” Aye. This was a better plan. The farther he kept Brandy from Flidae, the better.

  You can’t protect her, wolf. I can get to anyone I want.

  Reardon clenched his fist and took a step toward the house, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Brandy. “Stay.”

  “You don’t give me commands. I’m not a dog, Reardon.” She pulled on his arm so he had to face her and whispered, “Not yet anyway.” Arching her brow, she gave him a half-grin that reached into his chest and wrapped around his heart. How could she still want to be with him? How could she want to be like him? It was his fault Flidae had Dylan. “Soul mates don’t let each other face things alone.” She slid her hand into his and tugged him forward.

  Parker was right behind them. “Should we have a weapon? We’re going in there blind.”

  “Weapons will not work on Flidae,” Reardon said. “I’m not sure what will work.”

  “Great. That makes me feel so much better.” Parker stepped around them and opened the front door. “Chella?”

  A woman who looked very much like Chella came down a long staircase, but Reardon instantly knew the real Chella did not inhabit that body. Where that consciousness had gone was anyone’s guess.

  Parker made a move to meet Chella on the stairs, but Reardon let go of Brandy’s hand and pushed Parker aside.

  “Flidae, leave her.” His voice came out more commanding than he’d meant it to, but his warrior side was bubbling to the surface under these threatening conditions. “Chella has nothing to do with the situation between us.”

  “Maybe not,” Flidae-Chella said. “But her form is so comfortable. I may keep it.”

  A strangled sound came from Parker and he gripped the railing on the staircase. “Please, don’t hurt her.”

  Flidae-Chella peered around Reardon to look at Parker. “Do you love this body?”

  “I love the woman who usually inhabits it,” Parker said. “I beg you. Don’t hurt her.”

  Brandy rested her hand on Parker’s shoulder, but her eyes darted around the immediate area, no doubt looking for her son.

  “The boy?” Reardon asked. “Where is he?”

  “Tucked away.” Flidae-Chella fluffed the folds of the long, flowing skirt she wore. “He’s rather brave for such a small boy. I’m very intrigued by him.”

  Now Brandy released a pained sound. “He’s all I have of my sister. Please, Flidae, let’s work something out.”

  Flidae-Chella laughed, the echo resonating through the eerily quiet house. “You aim to bargain with a goddess, human?”

  “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my boy… and Reardon.” Brandy slid her hand off Parker’s and stood by Reardon.

  “Whatever it takes?” Flidae-Chella’s eyebrows rose over glowing eyes. “Ambitious.” She raised her arms and suddenly Reardon was thrown toward the front door. His body slammed into the wall and he slid to the floor in a heap of limbs. Everything hurt, as if his spine had been shattered to bits.

  Brandy screamed and ran to him, immediately getting to her knees beside him. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded slowly, taking a quick inventory of his physical state. Everything still moved so he assumed nothing had been broken, but his still-healing leg throbbed from the way he’d landed on it, and the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. He sat there and gulped down some air.

  Flidae-Chella floated down the rest of the stairs, her form growing in size as she approached. She wrapped her hand around Parker’s throat and backed him up against the wall in the foyer. In his struggles, Parker knocked an expensive-looking vase off a small table. The sound of it exploding to bits as it hit the floor echoed in the otherwise quiet house.

  “Please!” Brandy begged as she shot to her feet and ran to Parker. “He has nothing to do with your beef with Reardon. Parker and Chella are not a part of this. Let them go. And let my son go.”

  Flidae-Chella glanced over her shoulder, and Reardon absolutely did not like the way she glared at Brandy. He got to his feet, but not fast enough.

  In two seconds flat, Flidae-Chella dropped her hold of Parker, leaving him slumped over on the floor, and swept Brandy off her feet, pinning her to the hardwood flooring with one hand. With her free hand, she unleashed an invisible force that held Reardon back. He
couldn’t get to Brandy. It was as if a stone wall—one he couldn’t see—had been erected between him and Brandy.

  Flidae-Chella put her face inches from Brandy’s. “I am the goddess of wild things. I do not listen to what humans want. I do not listen to commands humans issue. This wolf made a grave mistake turning men to wolves for material gain. He was sent here as punishment. Not to find his soul mate.”

  “So you recognize that I am his soul mate?” Brandy choked out, her hands wrapped around Flidae-Chella’s wrist as she tried to keep the goddess from crushing her windpipe.

  Reardon pounded a fist against the barrier, but Flidae-Chella didn’t pay him a second’s attention. He didn’t exist to her at the moment. Only Brandy and her rebellious words existed, and Flidae-Chella wouldn’t be one to let those words go unchallenged. Reardon had never felt so helpless in all his life.

  “It matters not if you are his destined partner. Reardon McAlator used his gifts to make men into feral killers. Not in the name of justice or truth or liberty. No.” Flidae-Chella shook her head, Chella’s hair swinging from side to side. “No. He changed them so his record of brutality would not be broken. He didn’t ask his men if they wanted to be changed. He didn’t ask me. He made a decision that wasn’t his to make. Now he must pay the price.”

  “I will pay the price, Flidae,” Reardon shouted from his side of the transparent wall between him and Brandy, not even sure if he could be heard. “I will pay any price. Just leave these people be. Return Chella to Parker, and Dylan to Brandy.” He banged his fist against the wall again. “I’ll go willingly if you do not harm any of these people.”

  Flidae-Chella finally looked up at Reardon, confirming she did indeed hear him. She released her grip on Brandy and straightened to an imposing height. A bright flash of light nearly blinded Reardon and when he could see clearly again, Chella’s body was on the floor beside Brandy’s. Flidae was back to her apparition form, a ghastly white mist surrounding her image.

  “Perhaps taking you back with me is the only way to truly punish you, wolf.” She angled her head at him. “You’ve missed the point of doing something worthy, as were my terms. Finding your soul mate in this place, in this time, is still self-serving. You always wish to gain something.”

 

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