Stretching the long, lean lines of his beautifully muscled body, he asked, “No nightmares last night?”
“Nope, not a single one.” She lifted her right leg, pressing her bent knee against the swollen, steel-hard length of his erection, smiling against the curve of his whiskered jaw when a low, rumbling growl of arousal vibrated in his chest. The moment was perfect and warm, lackadaisical…while at the same time sweetly provocative, knowing that he wanted her. That all she had to do was say the word, and he’d be on her in a heartbeat. “I think we’ve found a cure for what ails me,” she teased.
“I like the sound of that.” He pulled her closer, against the hardness and heat of his body, sounding endearingly nervous as he said, “So, how do you feel about spending the day together…planning?”
“Planning what?” she asked, still drifting in that dreamy state of haziness that came after a deep, exhausted sleep.
He lifted his dark head from the pillow to gaze down at her, managing to look entirely too sexy, with his shaggy hair and dark whiskers. Watching her through heavy-lidded eyes that glittered with a mix of lust and love, he said, “I was thinking about a wedding.”
“A wedding?” Suddenly wide-awake, she sat straight up in bed, completely stunned.
“Yeah,” he said, cupping her cheek in his warm hand. “I love you, Tor. As far as the Lycan world is concerned, we’re already married. But I want to have a wedding with you, sweetheart. See you in a beautiful white gown, your hair flowing over your shoulders like a flame, holding flowers in your hands. No way in hell am I gonna miss out on that. Whaddya say?”
“I say yes,” she practically squealed, throwing herself into his arms, pressing playful kisses over his face and his chest, both of them shaking with happiness and laughter. “Yes and yes and yes!”
“Thank God,” he rumbled, pulling her fully on top of him, his big hands on her bottom, anchoring her in place. “Let’s try to make it happen this weekend.”
“This weekend?” Torrance stared at him in shock. “That’s impossible! Nobody can plan a wedding in four days. We’ll need a few weeks at least.”
“I’m not waiting weeks to make you my wife,” he grumbled, holding her tighter.
“Mason!” she laughed. “There’s no possible way to organize anything faster than that.”
“We’ll see,” he murmured silkily, giving her a pirate’s smile as he pulled her down for a hungry, eating kiss…
And they were married four days later.
Epilogue
Despite the fact that the bride and maid of honor had only a handful of days to prepare, it was a storybook wedding worthy of any magical fairy tale. The ceremony and reception were held outdoors, in the center of the Alley, as was tradition when a Bloodrunner married. There was thankfully no rain, but to compensate for the chilly autumn weather, the Runners had gone into the city and purchased some beautiful stone fire pits. They’d been placed among the tables, the towering blazes adding to the romantic atmosphere while providing necessary warmth.
Torrance was radiant in the ivory sheath that Michaela bought for her in Covington, the groom so in love, there was no doubt in anyone’s eyes that they were meant to be together. And Dylan had arrived back home in time to help celebrate the momentous occasion, graciously offering to give away the bride.
Sitting beside his wife, who was busily chatting with her best friend, Mason took a sip of his champagne, conversing quietly with the Elder. “It’s time to keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” Dylan told him. “It’s someone who’s pack, Mason. You can’t trust anyone.”
“It’s someone you work with,” he replied in a low rasp, looking out over the dancing, laughing guests. “It’s someone on the League.”
Dylan breathed out a heavy sigh. “Whoever it is, I have no doubt that you’ll find him.”
“Damn straight we will,” Mason grunted. And then, shaking off his unwanted tension, he turned to smile at his friend, knowing there was one more order of business to take care of before he could whisk his new bride away to the privacy of their cabin. The day after Simmons’s death, the Runners had drawn straws, choosing the one who would return to the pack to hunt the traitor from within. “I think it’s time we made our announcement.”
“This should be entertaining,” the Elder drawled with a grin, though his eyes revealed the strain he was under. As a member of the League and friend of the Runners, Dylan was trapped between opposing sides of what was sure to turn into a bitter conflict.
Standing, Mason picked up a spoon to clink against the side of his champagne glass, careful not to hit too hard and shatter his mother’s favorite crystal. “Excuse me,” he called out. “If I could have everyone’s attention for a moment. It’s my honor and privilege to be the first to tell you that our own Jeremy Burns has gone before the Silvercrest’s League of Elders and submitted his count.”
As expected, the Alley, which had been transformed into a flower-filled paradise, fell completely quiet, even the natural sounds of the forest and the gentle breeze of the wind falling into an eerie state of silence.
“And now,” he continued, lifting his glass in a toast to his best man, who sat at the end of the table beside a smirking Cian, “my partner will be accepting his place among the pack. To Jeremy, a braver man than I.”
Cheers went up from every guest, every glass lifted in salute to the tawny-haired Runner who reluctantly grinned, bowing his head in thanks.
Every glass—except for one.
On the far side of the crowd, Mason watched as a lone blond female slipped quietly into the shadowed forest.
* * * * *
If you loved this novel, you’ll enjoy these other stories from Rhyannon Byrd’s Bloodrunners:
LAST WOLF STANDING
LAST WOLF HUNTING
LAST WOLF WATCHING
DARK WOLF RISING
DARK WOLF RUNNING
DARK WOLF RETURNING
BLOOD WOLF DAWNING
Available now from Harlequin Nocturne!
And continue reading for a special excerpt from
DARK WOLF RISING
SPECIAL EXCERPT FROM
Read on for a special excerpt from
DARK WOLF RISING,
Part of Rhyannon Byrd’s reader favorite series
BLOODRUNNERS
Eric Drake, a powerful Dark Wolf, has never trusted himself around human females—preferring to mate only within his pack. That is, until he encounters Chelsea Smart.
As Eric approached the driver-side door, the woman shifted slightly, giving him his first clear view of her face, and his muscles tightened with a jolting, slam-him-into-the-ground kind of surprise. For some reason, probably because of how Hendricks and Franks were acting, he hadn’t expected the woman to be so...well, soft-looking. Even attractive. But she was. She had the kind of beauty that crept up on a guy, making him want to keep staring...searching, noting new discoveries as he mapped out the finely sculpted contours, one by one. The full lower lip was only part of a lush, pink mouth that begged for the carnal aggression of a kiss...among other things. Things he had no business thinking about doing with a perfect stranger, not to mention a human one.
So get your bloody mind out of the gutter and stay focused! his conscience muttered.
Determined to continue his appraisal with a more critical eye, Eric searched for her first flaw, but failed to find one. She wasn’t classically beautiful, but she was pretty, in a wholesome, appealing way. Her face was somewhat round, with a small nose and sweeping brows that arched over big blue eyes. Instead of making her look childish, the delicate features gave her an air of womanly innocence that would catch any man’s attention. That made him want to be the one to corrupt her...to open those bright blue eyes to things that were warm and wet and undeniably wicked. To the harder, more primal angles of pleasure.
“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, wondering what was wrong with him. He hated to admit it, but she was affecting him in a way that ma
de him want to turn around and get the hell out of there. It was more than just the dangerous, unwanted sexual attraction building inside him. Though that was bad enough. But for some inexplicable reason, he almost felt as if the human posed some kind of threat to him, which was ridiculous. He was the monster in this scenario, the thing to be feared in the silence of the night—not her. And yet, his chest felt too tight, his muscles coiled, ready to burst into movement, and he shoved his hands in his front pockets, his jaw so tight it made his teeth ache. Sweat broke out over his forehead and collected in the small of his back as he indicated with his chin that he wanted her to roll down the window, more determined than ever to get this over and done with as quickly as possible.
In response, she lifted one of those beautifully shaped brows and glared at him. Without so much as the flicker of a lash, Eric glared right back, letting her know he wouldn’t be as easily cowed as the scouts. When she didn’t budge, he made his tone as non-threatening as possible, knowing his size could be intimidating to a lot of women, and said, “I’m not going to hurt you, lady. I just want to talk.”
She leaned a little closer to the window and ran her gaze over his tall form, working from his scarred hiking boots up to his short hair, then shook her head and raised her chin a notch higher. Eric choked back a low groan, thinking why me? Why couldn’t his friend Jeremy have been stuck with this tonight?
The second the window cracked open, he pulled in a deep breath, his razor-sharp senses searching...seeking. With her strange behavior, he’d half expected her to reek of alcohol or drugs, but he couldn’t pick up a trace of either. Instead, she smelled...like a puzzle. Fresh and clean and delicious, but almost painfully complicated. Like something he needed if he wanted to figure out an answer, even though he didn’t have a clue what the question was.
And it sure as hell isn’t anything to do with me.
For a split second, Eric was almost disappointed by that particular truth. By the fact that his wolf didn’t recognize that warm, mouthwatering scent as something that belonged to them. Something they were meant to own and claim and possess. But that was nothing short of insane. He lowered his arms and backed up a step from the bus, determined to put some distance between them. As well as knock some sense into his wayward libido.
That scent made him want to... No. He gave his head a hard shake, ignoring a bad idea that would only lead to an even worse situation.
She was the kind of trouble he didn’t need. Or want. And once she drove out of his life, he’d forget her as easily as he forgot every other woman who’d ever stirred his interest. It was a given. A fact. He just had to convince her crazy little ass to get off the pack’s private property, and that would be that.
Should be easy enough, considering how his species resided at the top of the food chain, and hers didn’t. Even though she didn’t know he was different, she would sense the predator in him. Would know this wasn’t a safe situation for her to be in, the same way she’d naturally avoid a dark alley or a snarling, snapping animal. It was instinct. Simple self-preservation.
But as Eric stared down into narrowed eyes that burned like a heat-glazed summer sky, he knew, with his own gut feeling, that it wouldn’t be that cut-and-dry. Knew she was going to be a pain in the ass, which should have bothered the hell out of him. But it didn’t.
No, what bothered him was how much he and his wolf were suddenly looking forward to the challenge.
Don’t miss
DARK WOLF RISING by Rhyannon Byrd
available wherever Harlequin Nocturne ebooks are sold.
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Copyright ©2014 by Tabitha Bird
ISBN: 9781460392249
Last Wolf Standing
Copyright © 2008 by Tabitha Byrd
First published by Silhouette Books, 2008
This edition published by Harlequin Nocturne, 2015
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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