“The Trident are thorough, aren’t they?”
“How did they know he meant something to Lydia?”
“You give me the information I ask for – you don’t tell me what do with it.”
Jesus Christ! She had thought she was giving someone trusted the information, not the enemy. If anyone found out, she’d be thrown out of the pack … or worse. “You lied to me.” Her voice quavered. “You said you were a Human Hand.”
“I am.”
“The Hands are friends of the wolves.”
“I am.”
The waitress approached them.
“I’ll have a cup of peppermint tea, dear,” said Gladys.
Selena clutched her wavering stomach. “Just a glass of water for me, thanks.”
“We only do bottled,” replied the waitress.
“Fine.”
She glared at Selena briefly, then wandered off.
Selena dropped her voice to a whisper. “You didn’t tell me there was someone dead in the back of the truck.”
“It’s none of my business what The Trident do.”
“But you’re the one that told them—”
“You, missy, told me you wanted Lydia gone.”
“I do, but—”
“She’s put you all in danger; put a huge question mark over your life span.”
“I know, but—”
“Taken three of your males.”
Selena slumped in her chair. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“It isn’t the first time it’s happened.”
She looked up confused. “It’s not?”
“I’m old, child, and every female in my family line has lived well into their nineties. The Trident forget everything except what they record, they live for such a short time. And werewolves bury anything they don’t like to talk about. Who’s left to pick up the pieces? Humans, that’s who – those of us that remember; that know and want to change things.
“Four hundred years ago, a storm-wielder in Somerset took three mates. In the pack the next county over, in Wiltshire, two females never found their mates and died. Mates were much less scattered then. A war was started between clans in Somerset and Wiltshire, a war that faded because The Trident became a greater threat when they started annihilating packs to flush out the storm-wielders. Then, of course, humans began to hunt wolves too…
“So what did the packs do? Flush out the storm-wielders themselves. Killed them, threw them out, anything to keep their packs safe, both from The Trident and from the storm-wielders themselves who seemed to be developing a gene that demanded they claim three mates. But with the war between the clans buried, and with the extermination of storm-wielders, we’ll never know if that is the true extent of the future of your species: three men for every woman. A lot of females might die if the storm-wielders are allowed to evolve. Do you want to take that risk?
“Mark my words, child, two female wolves somewhere will die because of Lydia. Maybe one of them will be you.”
“No, I don’t want that,” she said, although her voice still shook. She felt like that Judas guy from that religion humans liked so much.
“Well then… That man’s death was a shame, but necessary.”
They both shut up when the waitress came back and placed their drinks on the table.
After she’d sauntered off, Gladys continued. “Lydia is distraught, is she not?”
“Yes.”
“She’ll never be able to make peace with her wolf now, knowing the harm it has already caused … and she’ll never be able to look at Lawrence Gunvald again without remembering the death of her friend.”
Selena paled. She didn’t want Lawrence harmed – she loved her pack – it was just Lydia she wanted gone. “What’s Lawrence got to do with—”
“Secrets never stay hidden for long, child. I suggest you take a closer look at him – he is not the great king you’d all like him to be.” She spat that out as if the words poisoned her. “None of the Gunvalds were worthy of the royal status you were always so ready to bestow on them.”
She shuffled in her seat. Discussing Lawrence and his family line was something that didn’t sit well with her wolf, so she decided not to ask more on the subject. Instead, she reached into her bag and brought out the bottle of perfume that the woman had given her. “Here.”
“Keep it. I have more work for you to do.”
Oh, god, this stuff stinks. She wrinkled her nose. Wearing it was like rubbing skunk all over her, but other than Operiphur, which cost a small fortune, it was the only way her own scent could be hidden from Lydia or anyone else.
“Unless, of course, you’re willing to take the responsibility for those two females who will never mate.”
“No. I don’t want that,” she repeated, more firmly this time. She’d lost her mother while she had given birth to her. Her father was a shell of a man she’d never really known. She already felt responsible for one female’s death. “What do you want me to do?”
Gladys slurped half her peppermint tea down in one go, and then smiled.
Epilogue
She found herself back at the scene of the crime. She hadn’t wanted to come here, but her feet seemed to have a mind of their own, insisting on tormenting her further.
Her eyes were sore from all the crying.
The area was cordoned off with police tape; the truck, her rucksack and the body now gone.
The body.
She wondered if Barry had collapsed on hearing the news.
She wondered what Brendan’s mother was like – she’d never met her.
Because I never gave him a chance.
Like it mattered anyway. She was a werewolf, he wasn’t. And now he was dead because of that fact.
Large, warm hands encircled her waist from behind. She knew it wouldn’t take long for them to find her.
Unable to resist the comfort, she leaned back against Ryan’s chest. “I hurt so much.”
He kissed her by her right ear. “I know. I’m sorry.”
She closed her eyes against a fresh flood of tears.
Another warm hand took her left one, lacing fingers through hers. “Taylor,” she whispered, and opened her eyes.
He stroked her face and placed a kiss on her lips.
She tipped her head to her left where he stood, resting her temple on his shoulder.
Lawrence came into view in front of her, and the flood poured down her cheeks. Instinctively, she tried to step back, but Ryan held her fast.
I can’t do this.
Lawrence said nothing; did nothing. He stood and waited, his eyes shimmering with regret and heartache. She knew it wasn’t his fault, but all she could see when she looked at him was Brendan tortured to death.
“You’re not alone in this,” said Ryan, and Taylor squeezed her hand. “We’ve all been alone too long, sweetheart.”
Again, she tried to move back.
Again, Ryan refused to let her go … he’d always refused to let her go.
No … he’s always refused to let you hide.
And that’s what she wanted to do the most – hide from it all, from what had happened this morning, from where they go from here, from her feelings for all three of them, from the uncertainty they faced as a relationship of four and within their pack, which had become restless over recent events…
Lawrence took one step forward, his entire being exuding a vulnerability that resonated with hers.
Her panic flared.
And then he took another step, and another, and he didn’t stop until his lips met hers.
The kiss was soft and tender, and it reminded her of the last time she’d kissed him, when she’d been the one to take the initiative, the wolf in her wanting to heal him… “I wanted something soft to remember you by, because we both know you’re going to go back to being hard as soon as we leave here.”
“I don’t want to be like that with you; I don’t want to push you away.”
“Then don’t.”
Lawrence pulled back, his face a mask of sorrow.
Part of her wanted to retreat, disappear, curl up into a ball and remove herself from all emotion. But she’d been doing that all her life, hadn’t she? She’d done it with Brendan. If she did it again, now, she didn’t know if she’d ever find her way home.
Battling with the bruising around her heart, she reached up instead and took Lawrence in her arms, pulling him back to her, yielding her pain, entrusting it to him – to all of them.
He let out a little sob of relief, and then his tongue sought hers out. She opened herself up to him, letting him in, allowing him to taste all of what made her who she was.
Ryan pulled her trousers down her legs, while Taylor slipped the sleeves of her vest off her shoulders, and she welcomed the consolation; she needed the comfort.
She was hauled upwards by Ryan’s strong arms. Her legs, now free of all restriction, automatically came up around Lawrence’s hips.
Lawrence walked her backwards, Ryan and Taylor moving with them, until Ryan halted against a trunk, supporting her with his torso, his hands forming a ledge for her backside to rest on.
Taylor kissed his way down the left side of her neck and chest, finally finding her breast. Lawrence moved a little to give him some room.
They soothed her with strokes and licks and tender nips…
Lawrence’s attentions became more urgent, his own need rising, his own damaged soul seeking solace in hers.
She reached down and unbuttoned his trousers. He aided her in getting them down, making no attempt this time to hide his disability, maybe because it was no longer necessary … or maybe because he was trying … like she was trying.
The black and silver-coloured design of his prosthetic legs gleamed in the sun, its rays bouncing off any part able to reflect the light. He didn’t look disabled – he looked like an elegant, powerful machine. “Lydia,” he pleaded in her ear.
His erection nudged her between her legs, requesting entry.
She felt his need for reassurance and it was overwhelming … as overwhelming as her need to give it. “Yes, I want you. I admire you, I desire you … Lawrence…” His name ended on a gasp as he pushed his way into her.
He groaned against her throat.
Ryan manoeuvred his hands a few inches down towards her inner thighs, so he gripped her on both sides, and gently held her open for Lawrence. A rush of heat flashed through her and she moaned long and loud.
Lawrence bottomed out inside her and began to thrust.
Taylor was now on her right, nibbling at her hip bone and working his way down her leg, tasting her all over…
She felt herself leave her body, and this time she let it happen, knowing what would take place next. Storm clouds gathered fast, and when she brought down the lightning, she did it with awareness, wrapping all four of them in her charged, white hot tendrils.
All four of them keened with desire – and the bite of loss – as the lightning drew their lust to the surface.
Lawrence picked up his pace, silent tears still marking his face as they did hers. This was healing and comfort, cure and reparation for them both.
She slipped her arms around his neck, holding him closer as he took them to the edge, her other two beloved wolves aiding their joint search for redemption.
Ryan grunted behind her as he held her steady, and the first wave of bliss washed over her, not giving her any time to relish in it before another took over.
She cried out into Lawrence’s hair, her climax setting off his.
Taylor, now at her shoulder, turned her head gently towards him and kissed away her tears before brushing his lips with hers.
She reached up behind her to touch Ryan’s face.
He kissed her fingers and tenderly sucked on their tips.
“We’re going to be okay,” she whispered, not wanting to interrupt the convalescence of the moment, but needing to hear the words. “We have to be okay.”
“We will be,” said Ryan.
“We will be,” nodded Taylor.
Lawrence kissed her forehead then rested his against hers. His eyes, usually so icy, now resembled the warmer pale blue of tropical oceans, where the sea met the shore.
“We will be.”
“Prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart.”
Mahatma Gandhi
Book three, Heart Of The Wolf, is scheduled to be released 31st December, 2013. To keep up with all updates, please join me on Facebook or Twitter.
~*~
In the meantime, take a look at my other paranormal romance series, The Witching Pen Novellas.
Amazon US Amazon UK
The Omnibus Edition of the UK-based paranormal romance trilogy that has taken readers by surprise!
The complete Witching Pen trilogy (also available as three separate books).
Book One: The Witching Pen
Book Two: The Sands Of Time
Book Three: The Demon Bride
Elena, a thirteenth generation witch, is the most powerful witch on the planet; Amy is hidden from her true self, and Mary feels the pain of mankind.
On the appearance of a magic pen, three women uncover family secrets and deep betrayal, to discover they are more than they've been led to believe - for better or worse.
Alongside the men, demons and angels who love them, they are thrown into a supernatural world where time becomes muddied, where new and ancient merge, where forged bonds cannot be broken, and matters of the heart are never black and white.
And then, there's the impending apocalypse.
Unique, fun, fast-paced, sexy and passionate, this is paranormal romance that combines the dark with the light, and the sweet with the gritty.
Acknowledgements
Thank you to Ninfa Hayes and Elizabeth Morgan for so enthusiastically wanting to beta-read this book, and for taking the time to do so. I know you’re both busy writing your own books…
Thank you to my ARC readers, and to the book bloggers and reviewers that have not given up on me just yet, lol. I so much look forward to getting my books into your hands because you cherish the work and effort gone into them, even if they turn out not to be your cup of tea!
Thank you to everyone who loves werewolves enough to take a chance on an author you’ve not read before. Most of you reading this book will have read the first one – I’m thrilled you came back for more :)
Lastly, thank you to all of you who have taken the time to contact me and let me know you love this series, and to those of you that have left reviews of the same ilk. There is nothing more motivational for an author, and I am deeply grateful.
xxx
About The Author
Dianna Hardy is a UK-based, independent author of gothic poetry, adult urban fantasy, dark fantasy and paranormal romance, including The Witching Pen Novellas and ‘Til Death Do Us Part (an adult retelling of The Little Mermaid). She is currently working on the Eye Of The Storm series, The Last Dragon (a spin-off novel to The Witching Pen Novellas), and the Project Veil series.
She pens stories that are fast-paced, action-packed and sexy, and writes both full-length novels and short fiction.
Dianna resides in Surrey with her partner and their daughter.
Official site:
http://www.diannahardy.com
Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/authordiannahardy
Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/thewitchingpen
Coming Soon
Heart Of The Wolf (Eye Of The Storm #3)
The Last Dragon – a spin-off, full-length novel to The Witching Pen Novellas
The Project Veil series
Other Titles
A Silver Kiss (Vampire Poetry)
A dark and daring addition to the literary worl
d of vampirism, this is a collection of rhyming and freestyle poetry that explores the often taboo themes of power, possession and seduction.
Emotionally charging, each poem is written from a different perspective, be it the hunter or the hunted and inspires a deeper look into the psychology of the human mind and the darker aspects of human relationships and society.
Age range: suitable for older teenagers to adults
Published by Bitten Fruit Books
All details can be found at
http://www.vampirepoetry.co.uk
Thank you for reading this eBook!
If you enjoyed it, please share the love and consider leaving a review somewhere, or telling everyone you know – word of mouth is the most valuable source of marketing an author could ask for.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
About The Author
Cry Of The Wolf (Eye Of The Storm) Page 18