by Lib Starling
Roxy was about to speak, to reassure Alexander that the cost wouldn’t be as great as he feared. But before she could get out her assurances, he spoke on: “I feel like a traitor, admitting I want Katrina so badly. Because I don’t love you any less, Roxy. What kind of monster does that make me?”
A surge of affection welled up in her heart. God, men are such dopes. Such silly, adorable dopes. “Alexander, I love you, too. You know I do.”
His eyes, as pale as the moonlight that bathed him, widened with momentary hope.
Roxy was quick to crush that hope—gently, of course—before his feelings got out of hand. “We love each other in the same way: as friends. The very best of friends. We’ll always be important to each other, Alexander. We’ll always have each other’s backs. You know I can never forget everything you’ve done for me, showing me how to shift and teaching me everything a shifter needs to know. You’ll always be one of the most important people in my life.”
“But,” he said bitterly.
“Don’t sound so upset. There’s no ‘but’ to it. I love you, and you love me, and our love doesn’t need to be anything more than what it is: two friends who will always adore each other. And if you really look into your heart, you’ll see that’s for the best. Because I know you feel the same way about Katrina as I feel about Chase.”
“So you’re saying—”
Roxy nodded. “I think you should bond with her, Alexander. Not only for our sakes—mine and Chase’s. And not even for the sake of the fraternity, or of Blackmeade, or of shifters everywhere. I think you should do it for you—and Katrina—because it will make you both happy. You’ll have each other, and in a sense none of the rest of us can comprehend. You love her, in a way you don’t love me. Love like that doesn’t come along very often. It’s even rarer than a female shifter.” She smiled tentatively, hoping she’d made her point well enough.
“But after this battle is over—after school—”
“Katrina won’t keep you from the kind of life you want. She’s not that kind of person. If you want to go into business, and take over your father’s corporation as CEO, Katrina will help you. She won’t hinder you. Wherever you want to go, she’ll do what it takes to help you get there. She loves you. She won’t to hold you back from your destiny.”
His mouth twisted wryly. “It’s not Katrina I’m worried about, so much as other shifters. They’ll never accept me as their leader again—in Alpha House, or in a corporation—if I’m the familiar of a witch.”
“Katrina is smart and resourceful. She’s willing to make sacrifices for the people she cares about, and she certainly cares a great deal about you. Together, you’ll find some way to make it happen—to make the world accept you both. You just have to trust her, Alexander. And you can do that, can’t you? Trust the woman you love?”
“And let her be in charge.” He said the words as if they were a curse.
Roxy momentarily forgot her affection for Alexander; her brow pinched in annoyance. “Is it really such a terrible proposition, to let a woman take control? Jeeze, Alexander—what is this, the Dark Ages?”
He held up his hands defensively. “Okay, it came out all wrong. That’s not what I meant—not exactly.”
Roxy raised one eyebrow. Explain, her expression said.
“The idea of giving up power—of handing all my own control over to somebody else—well, it scares me, to be honest. Nobody has bonded with a witch for generations—for such a long time that I couldn’t find anything written about it, and I don’t dare ask any of the Blackmeade professors what they might know. No one can tell me what it might be like, to relinquish my-self in that way. My autonomy—my whole being, perhaps—who can say? It’s a terrifying thought, Roxy.”
Alexander hung his head a little, as if he thought the admission of his fears weakened him. “I’ve been having nightmares lately,” he said quietly. “Nightmares about being force-shifted. Granted, I don’t know what it’s like to be forced, and you do. But my dreams are bad enough. I can only imagine that it’s worse than any nightmare, to live that experience for yourself. And yet, bonding to a witch—giving my-self up to her completely—what if it’s even worse than my nightmares? How can I face that?”
Moved by his vulnerability, Roxy took his hand again. “Trust Katrina. She loves you, and you love her. She would never hurt you, Alexander—never do you any kind of harm. You have to trust her.”
“Can anybody trust a witch?”
“We can trust her. Think of everything she’s done for us so far. We all can trust her— but you especially can give her your faith and your heart.”
He laughed sourly. “How can you, of all people, say that?” He pointed back down the sage-covered slope, to where Alpha House’s lights burned steadily against the darkness. “Trust her? You saw her in there, kissing Chase!”
“She was only doing what she had to,” Roxy said, and as she spoke, she saw the truth of it—saw Katrina’s plan clearly, and understood exactly what had transpired between Chase and the witch. “She did what she had to do, to make your own feelings plain to you. And it worked, didn’t it? What else could have shown you how deeply you care for Katrina? She’s willing to do anything to get the job done—to help the people she cares about. And there’s no one she loves more than you, Alexander. We all have to do that now—anything—whatever is necessary to win, for the sake of the people we love.”
For a long moment, Alexander was silent, staring back down the slope toward Alpha House. Roxy watched the house, too, the squares of warm light at its windows like a welcoming refuge from the bitter cold, the vast darkness of the night. But Alpha House seemed small, and far away—impossibly fragile against the craggy Teton Range and the high, looming foothills. Alexander shifted his weight, and peered up past the boulder field, toward the top of the starlit ridge, as if he contemplated fleeing again—walking off into the darkness and leaving Alpha House, Katrina, Scarlett, and the whole mess behind him.
But then his back straightened, and Roxy could feel the white wolf inside him steeling itself for the fight.
He put one arm around Roxy and hugged her close. “I love you, Rox,” he said. His words and his embrace were brotherly.
Roxy flung both of her arms around him and squeezed him as tightly as she could, gratitude and hope filling her chest until she thought she would burst. “I love you, too. And I’m glad you’re fighting beside me.”
She was doubly glad that both of them understood exactly what kind of love they shared. It was as strong as any love could be—the very best kind of friendship.
“Let’s go back,” Alexander said, and he started off down the slope with Roxy still tucked comfortably under his arm. “I’m ready… as ready as I’ll ever be.”
“You won’t regret it,” she told him. “I know you won’t.”
And please, she thought desperately, sending up the prayer to whatever force in the universe might be listening, let the strength Katrina draws from this bond be enough to free Chase from Scarlett’s spell.
.3.
K atrina laid the last jagged rock in place and straightened, working her fists into the small of her aching back. She looked at the wide ring of stone through the veil of her own misting breath, noting with satisfaction that the circle was near perfect—as close to perfect as any human-made ring could be. All the elements would be present, in their fullest, most natural forces. The dark chunks of granite that delineated the boundaries of her spell were like shards of indigo dye, made solid in the pre-dawn gloom. They would call up the Power of Earth. Inside the ring, Katrina had spread several layers of thick wool blankets on the crust of snow. Soon the snowpack beneath would melt, soaking through the wool and summoning the Power of Water. The open sky was obliging with its Power of Air, sending in regular gusts of a brisk wind that made Katrina shiver. But the Power of Fire would keep the cold at bay—and that, she and Alexander would create between them, fusing the heat of their bodies into one great storm of passion.
>
She turned to watch the distant, golden-yellow gleam of Alpha House, a small dot of light on the outskirts of Blackmeade Village, tucked into the dark folds of the foothills. She breathed deep. The last vestiges of night were perfumed by the sharp, smoky breath of ice, of a Rocky Mountain winter’s long, insistent grip. I will be like the winter, she told herself, holding firm, resolute—implacable.
Then she saw what she watched for so eagerly: a tall, strong figure moving among the sage, pale as the memory of moonlight. He picked his way carefully up the slope, and he was alone, just as she’d directed.
She amended her previous thought: We will be like winter. As strong as the cold, as all-encompassing as the dark of the year. With Alexander, she would take the Power back from Scarlett, wash away the rival witch’s stain, and free the Power from the darkness that slowed and restricted it. Winter-pale Alexander—her ice-wolf, her familiar. She smiled as he approached.
He found the edge of the ring and hesitated, nudging one of the sharp pieces of granite with the toe of his shoe. Then he looked up and met her gaze. His blue eyes were luminous in the darkness, alight with his animal power—with his Power—and Katrina felt the magic within him pulling forcefully at her spirit.
She unzipped her coat and dropped it on the spread blankets, then pulled her heavy, wool sweater over her head. The cold made her gasp and shudder. But the sight of her bared breasts and the paleness of her skin against the darkness seemed to draw Alexander, impelling him past his remaining fears. His eyes sharpened with hunger, and he stepped into the ring.
He reached her in a few quick strides, sweeping her into his arms, pulling her tight against his firm, warm chest. She felt his heart beating wildly through rib and muscle. She kissed him, and the Power of Fire flared where their lips and flesh came together.
She let the kiss draw out, savoring it, savoring him, and the knowledge that soon they would be bound together, united like the two sides of a single coin. Fire warmed her, and soon she did not feel the cold against her back. All she felt was Alexander’s heat, his arms sheltering her, his hands and tongue encouraging her.
She broke away just long enough to help him shed his coat and shirt. He kicked off his shoes she stripped away her jeans. She stood bared to the night and the Powers, but although she could see how her skin rose into goosebumps, Katrina felt nothing of the cold. In a moment Alexander was naked, too, and ready—hard and hungry, reaching for her with impatient arms.
She pulled him down onto the blankets. They lay side by side, tasting each other’s flesh at neck, shoulder, breast—and the salt that made magic flavored his skin, and filled Katrina’s mouth with its familiar taste. When he could delay his pleasure no longer, he rolled her roughly onto her back, and spread her thighs with his hand—but Katrina clutched at his wrist, stopping him.
“Wait.”
He drew back, frowning down at her. A gust of wind ruffled his white-blonde hair and sent shadows rippling over his sharp features.
“Lie back,” she said.
Alexander’s frown was skeptical. He paused, and Katrina knew that he was resistant to the note of command in her voice. But after a moment he did as she told him, lying on his back against the layers of wool.
She rolled over and mounted him, using her hand to guide him inside of her. Alexander’s eyes closed and he bent his back, arching his neck, gasping in ecstasy. She watched his face as she rode him, grinding against the base of his cock to bring her own bliss closer with each movement of her hips. He seemed transported to the world of dreams, his mouth agape and his brows raised as he panted helplessly. He looked almost pleading—an expression Katrina had never seen him wear before. The vulnerable, sincere look of him, as if he’d stripped his spirit even more naked than his body, as if he displayed every bit of his most secret self for her alone, sent a wave of warmth crashing through her heart.
His hands raised, and found her breasts. For a moment she let him do as he wished, holding and massaging her, increasing the rising tension that sang along her nerves and tingled in her bones. But then she took his wrists and pinned his hands to the ground, above his head.
Alexander’s eyes opened abruptly. He stared for a moment at her bouncing breasts, then his gaze sharpened and he looked up at her face. “What—?” he panted.
“Don’t speak,” she said, and continued to plunge and grind against him.
She felt him resist her—his arms and chest tensed as he pushed back against her hands, but she leaned her full weight on his wrists, and worked her hips faster so that she weakened him with the heat and delicious friction of her body. He tried to stifle a moan deep in his throat, but it forced its way out. Then she felt his spirit fight back—his wolf totem, writhing and twisting, and, as Katrina came closer to the edge of her own ecstasy, she cried at the double blow of hot pleasure and cold fear, for she could see—feel—the white wolf bristling, its lip curling up over its long, sharp fangs. She felt the threatening snap of its jaws inside her own chest, in the place just below her fast-beating heart. She nearly let go of Alexander’s hands and shied away from his power, but she was too close to stop now. Too close, and too determined.
“Stop it,” she growled—at him, or at the wolf, she couldn’t say. She squeezed his wrists tighter, moved faster, harder, and said again, “Stop it!”
And in that moment, Alexander and his wolf both seemed to melt into a state of delicious surrender. She saw and felt the wolf rolling, stretching itself, glorying in the sensation of Katrina’s control as if it delighted in the warmth of a sunny day. And a sound quivered in Alexander’s throat, somewhere between a whimper and a growl.
He loves this, Katrina realized with surprise. Did he know how much he’d like it, if I took control? Or is he has surprised as I am?
Through the fire of her building pleasure, she remembered teasing him earlier that night, telling him he just might enjoy it if a woman took control—if she took control. And the harmless joke had unsettled him so badly.
Is this what he was afraid of all along? His secret attraction to surrender?
Resolved to give him no further reason to fear, she increased the speed of her hips, until Alexander threw his head back once more, straining against her hands—not to break her hold, but purely in the grip of his hot, wracking release. He gave a long, convulsive groan as he jerked beneath her—inside her—and in that very moment, gasping as she spoke, Katrina leaned forward and whispered the words of the spell into his ear.
Her orgasm overtook her on the final word, and the spell’s last syllable turned into a loud cry of pleasure. She shuddered and moaned, dropping her face down beside Alexander’s, breathing in his sweat and the far-off, sage-and-ice scent of his wolf totem.
She felt the spell’s invisible bonds tighten around her—around them both—and with each beat of her heart, the wolf’s wild odor drew closer. And Alexander’s flesh seemed to draw closer, until all of her was filled to bursting with him, her spirit crowded within its confines by the sudden presence of his human soul, and the white-wolf totem with it. She could feel his heart beating hard, half-frightened, half-wondering, inside her own chest. She felt his breath rush in and out of her throat.
Katrina sat up straight, then eased herself off of Alexander. As she did so, the twinge of his sensitivity clanged along her nerves, and she winced.
He gave a tentative laugh, which Katrina felt rumbling inside her own chest.
“It’s no fun when girls do that,” he said hoarsely, trying to joke through the odd new sensations. “The dreaded dismount. And now you know what it feels like.”
She gave a disbelieving chuckle. It snorted gracelessly through her nostrils, and Alexander twitched at his nose with his finger.
“Worth it, I think,” she said. “Sex that good is worth the dreaded dismount.”
“I agree.”
They blinked at one another, and Katrina knew—she could almost hear his thoughts—that he was as bewildered as she was by this strange, new closenes
s. The feeling was intrusive, because she had never before felt another person’s spirit inside her, as if it belonged within. But the feeling was also welcome, despite its invasive nature, because it was Alexander.
Suddenly, Katrina felt the night’s cold piercing her skin, sinking deep into her bones. She shivered violently, and her teeth chattered. Both of them scrambled up from the blankets, re-dressing quickly.
“Do you think you have enough strength now to undo whatever Scarlett did to Chase?” Alexander asked.
Katrina pulled on her jeans and stuffed her numb toes back into her warm, wool socks. “Let’s hope. I haven’t had time to examine her spell closely as yet, but from what little I’ve seen of the thing, I know already that I’ve never encountered anything like it before. I’ll try to get a better feel for what it’ll take, as soon as we’re back at Alpha House.”
As they both struggled into their various articles of clothing, Katrina relived their lovemaking moment by moment. She jerked her sweater over her head and considered the strange clarity with which she had seen—felt—experienced Alexander’s wolf. She had looked directly into his spirit. And she’d done it before the spell had bound them as familiar and witch.
Was it just the sex that allowed me to see what’s inside him so clearly—almost to touch his spirit, as if it were a part of my own self?
She shook her head as she slid her feet back into her boots. It couldn’t have been just the sex. Katrina had had sex with other men before, and had never experienced such a shocking depth of intimacy, even when she’d really liked the guy.
Sex with a shifter, then? Maybe when two users of the Power are together…
But she discarded that idea, too. The Goddess knew she’d slept with Chase enough in the past, and had never felt anything like this, even with him.
Perhaps because it was Alexander—because she was paying more attention, and her heart was more invested…
Paying attention? Her hands stilled in the act of zipping up her jacket. Suddenly, she knew exactly how she could undo the spell that had cursed Chase and Roxy. And not only reverse that spell, but stop Scarlett entirely. She flinched at the thought of what she and Alexander must do, for the implications were difficult to bear—not only for her own spirit, so happy in its newfound love and this precious new bond—but for Scarlett, too. The Goddess knew, Scarlett deserved punishment for all the pain she had inflicted on others. But Katrina hardly felt like it was her place to deliver such a terrible—and permanent—blow.