Immortal Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  Her admission sent waves of erotic heat through him. He would kiss her, inch by sweet inch. His body tightened with need. He wondered what she looked like and wished she would allow him to see her reflection in a mirror.

  I am eager for us to meet. I can’t wait to touch you, he admitted in a husky, sensual whisper.

  No!

  Her distress screamed in his mind. Raphael frowned and speculated. Even if she were a virgin and scared of her first time, such fear wasn’t normal.

  Has someone hurt you? He didn’t mean to make his voice so sharp, and softened his tone. Tell me, so I may help you, chere.

  I will be fine. Her wistfulness gave his heart a twist.

  Let me help you. I’m your dracairon. It’s my duty to care for you, and see to all your needs, be they large or small.

  You sound as if I’m an invalid who needs assistance getting out of bed, came the tart reply.

  Raphael gave a small, amused laugh. It might come to that. He blocked the thought from her of the sexy image of Erin lying languid and flushed in bed, dazed by the pleasure he’d given her. Of course not. But I am your mate, and it grieves me to know you are in such distress. Tell me what you need.

  You. She went silent a few heartbeats and added, Do you want me?

  Her deep, sultry voice sent lust spiraling through him. Raphael gripped the chair’s armrests. Want her? You have no idea how badly I want you. Mentally he sent her an image of an enormous bed, two bodies tangled together between rumbled silk sheets. All that and much more, he said softly.

  Oh! Oh. I didn’t realize, I’ve never…um…

  Silent delight filled him at her charming, blushing innocence. Don’t worry, chere. It’s your first time, and I will be gentle. You have nothing to fear from me.

  I’m not afraid of you. I could never be afraid of you.

  Satisfaction poured through him. He would cherish her and be mindful of her innocence at their first joining. The ecstasy he’d deliver would erase any pain of taking her virginity. Raphael licked his lips, envisioning parting her soft thighs with his hands, lowering his mouth to her core and flicking his tongue…

  There?! Shock vibrated through her voice. Raphael laughed softly.

  There, and many other places. Trust me, you will enjoy it.

  I wish I could touch you.

  The absolute sorrow in her voice gave him pause. His heart twisted. Soon, he promised.

  Out of the corner of his eye he spotted two men strutting toward him. Both solid as linebackers. Deep frowns scored their faces. One sported a knife scar across his cheek. Trouble. At the bar, his oldest brother, Etienne, shot him a questioning look. Need help?

  Raphael shook his head. Erin, pardon me for a moment, he told his draicara. He stood, stretching out to his full six feet, four inches.

  “Gentlemen,” he offered.

  “You’re the ugly bastard who screwed around with my woman last month,” Big and Scarred announced.

  “Your ex,” he countered.

  “We was gonna make up,” Scarred said. Glass shattered as he brought his beer bottle down on the table. He held the jagged edge out.

  “I doubt it, judging from the bruises you left.” Raphael narrowed his eyes. “Women should be treated with courtesy and respect. All women. You need manners.” He felt power rising in him, the itch to slam this bastard into place.

  “And you’re an ugly mongrel dog,” Scarred’s friend chimed in.

  Violent anger rolled through him. He masked it. “Never call me a mongrel,” he said pleasantly.

  Raphael coldcocked one with a fist and sent the other toppling to the floor with a bare shove. Beer splashed over the table as bottles toppled downward. His reflexes were so fast they’d had no time to blink.

  He sat down again, placing a boot upon Scarred’s unconscious body.

  My apologies, Erin. I had to take out the trash. Just a little business that took me away from your delightful company. Where were we?

  What business?

  Two men who didn’t like the looks of my face. He studied his knuckles. Not even a scratch.

  Are you hurt? Sharp worry tinged her voice. Raphael felt unexpected wonderment fill him. No one ever worried about him fighting before. His family assumed that the Kallan could fight all battles. His friends knew he could.

  You must be a very strong warrior.

  I do what I must. He gave a little shrug, toed at the unconscious form on the floor.

  You’re also quite modest. I can feel the humility radiating from you.

  Again he laughed in delight. For the very first time, he wished he were not the Kallan and could speed to Erin’s side. His draicara had need of him, but his duties as Kallan came first.

  Chere, tomorrow I must leave you. I cannot contact you. I have a duty to perform that requires absolute concentration.

  For how long?

  An eternity. Three weeks.

  It’s all right. I understand. She gave a tiny sigh, sounding suspiciously like a muffled sob. Maybe…I will see you. In some other place. Someday.

  Erin. He tried reaching for her, but she’d vanished like mist seeping through the bayou. Raphael sat back, slightly troubled. He didn’t like the sound of her goodbye.

  It sounded almost like farewell.

  He set aside his concerns. After, he’d find Erin and give her all she needed. For now he must focus on what lay ahead.

  His brothers, Etienne and Gabriel, drifted over. They studied the two prone bodies at Raphael’s feet. “Couldn’t you have played outside?” Gabe asked.

  “They didn’t want to share my sandbox.” He joined them at another table and signaled the waitress, who slapped a cold longneck on the table. Raphael tilted his head back and drank deeply.

  Etienne turned a chair around, straddled it, leaning his long arms on the back. “When are you leaving?”

  “As soon as I finish the next one.” He backhanded his mouth.

  “What is it this time? Where?”

  Raphael drummed his fingers on the table, overcome by a sudden chill. “A female.”

  His brother’s mouth turned down. “Bad business. What happened?”

  His mind sifted through the details with impartiality. “I’m told Emily is the cursed one, doomed by Aibelle the goddess. She was cursed a year ago by Aibelle with the death touch because of her vanity. All Draicon Emily now touches she kills. The ancient prophecies foretell Emily will bring about the end to our people if she is not sacrificed by midnight of the next full moon. If she isn’t, the curse shifts to the entire pack and beyond.”

  Etienne whistled as Gabriel shook his head. “Seems unfair,” Gabe said. “Where is she?”

  “They told me she’s ready, elderly and will be glad to cross. She’s in eastern Tennessee.” Raphael didn’t add he was relieved his victim was older. Bad enough she was female. Most he dispatched saw his services as a relief. In his forty years as Kallan, he’d only disposed of five very unwilling prisoners, who had killed innocents and were about to turn Morph.

  Gabriel gave him a pensive look. “The Draicon in that area are the Burke pack. You’re not saying they’re…”

  At Raphael’s brief nod, both Gabriel and Etienne’s eyes widened. “Whoa. Burke pack. Better mind yourself, Rafe. They’re very traditional and stick strictly to custom,” Etienne warned.

  Like I don’t know it. The invitation with its fussy handwriting had arrived on crisp parchment (no e-mail for the Burke clan). The beer in his mouth soured. He swallowed hard.

  “No cable for you, t’frere. No Internet, no Wii, nothing modern except the phone, basic utilities and cars. Keeper of the records of Draicon, the Burkes are direct, purebred descendants of our forefathers. Guardians of the Old Ways. Royalty.” Gabriel gave Raphael’s leather jacket a nod. “The last Kallan even dressed in ceremonial robes to please Urien, the Burke alpha. I heard Urien was upset you became Kallan because you’re not—”

  “A pureblood like them? Like all the other Kallans before me?”
Raphael’s fingers squeezed the beer bottle, cracking it. Foam oozed out of the sides.

  Silence draped the air. Etienne exchanged uneasy glances with Gabriel.

  Urien can kiss my leather-clad butt. Resentment filled him. The purebreds, always with their traditions, customs and superiority complex. They didn’t want a Kallan who was a renegade, a Cajun and a mongrel in their eyes. Tough. He was all they had.

  “I’m not going there to make a fashion statement. Just to honor their request.”

  Respect shone on his brothers’ faces. Gabe shook his head. “I don’t know how you do it, Rafe. I certainly couldn’t perform trasna on a female. I hope you find the strength.”

  “You’d better hope, Gabe. You have a lot riding on this assignment.” Raphael set down the beer, his look grim as he studied his brother. “Just hope that she is older and ready to die. Because if she isn’t and I have a conflict on hand, remember the code? You’re the one whose life is forfeit. And there’s not a damn thing I can do to stop it.”

  Gabriel removed a legal-size paper, a knife and a quill from his pocket and set them on the table.

  “You don’t have to do this, Gabe.”

  “If I don’t, then who will?”

  The time-honored tradition bothered him, but he could not break it. Each time his services as Kallan were requested to terminate the life of another Draicon, he signed a binding contract. A male family member was required to sign as well, putting his life on the line as collateral should Raphael back out of the agreement.

  The contract ensured Raphael would proceed with the execution or those requesting his services would kill his relative. No Kallan had ever reneged, and over time the document became more a formality than a reality.

  Still, Raphael felt queasy over the idea of giving the Burke pack the authority to end Gabe’s life should he fail to dispatch Emily.

  A nagging thought chased itself around in his head. He dismissed his worry. Discipline, not emotion, was needed for his upcoming duty. But this particular transition presented other challenges. The last time he’d had a brother sign a blood oath, Etienne had been unmated, and the transition was an elder longing for the peace of the Other Realm.

  Never a female.

  A very delicate, tough assignment.

  Gabriel made perfect sense. Since Etienne had been mated, he was forbidden to sign a blood oath. Alexandre, who had lost his mate and daughter, had expressed a desire to join them and might even hinder the ritual of trasna in his eagerness to do so. Indigo and Damian, both adopted as blood brothers, were not related kin. Besides, Damian was mated now to Jamie and had a pack of his own. Indigo, well…

  Purebloods considered Indigo an abomination because he was a Changling—half-vampire, half-Draicon. The Burke pack would ban him from offering his life.

  Only Gabe remained.

  His brother’s eyes, dark as his own, regarded him evenly. Gabe pointed to the paper. “I read over everything. Shall we?”

  So be it. “Take the knife, cut your hand and sign your name in blood.”

  Gabe picked up the sharp blade with a wry look. “Did I ever tell you I faint at the sight of blood, especially my own?”

  “Faint after signing, monfrere. I might even catch you.”

  With a slight wince, Gabe cut his hand and signed his name. Raphael stared at the crimson signature. A small dot of blood, like a tiny teardrop, stained the parchment.

  “What’s wrong? My signature not legible?” Gabe joked.

  Raphael made no reply, staring sightlessly out the window. The premonition was before him, dark and hovering like gray shadows. Blood staining his brother’s shirt. Gabriel lying still.

  Death.

  But for whom, he couldn’t say.

  Chapter 1

  T oday the Kallan arrived. The male who would end her life. If she didn’t find a way to stop him.

  Emily paced before her cottage. She couldn’t wait and walked silently to the farmhouse.

  On the way over, she heard the steady roar of a motorcycle as it crested the quiet hill before the farmhouse. Despite every instinct that urged flight, she advanced toward the sound. She needed to see the one who would end her life. She crept through the yard by using the thick pine trunks of the trees that flanked the drive from the cottage to the farmhouse to shield her.

  Her pack had gathered on the gravel drive. With a cough, the big motorcycle’s engine died and the pack drifted toward the male on the bike. Emily gave him a grim smile. Maybe the others went meekly. She’d give him the fight of his life. Her life.

  He removed a gleaming black helmet. Shoulder-length dark hair fell about his head, curling at the edges. One lock of hair was pure white at his right temple. Dressed in a black leather jacket, black T-shirt and black leather pants, he looked tall and imposing even while seated.

  The rider slid a firm thigh over the saddle and stood. Emily put a hand to her throat, feeling it tighten. He towered over her family. He was breathtaking, with his fine bone structure, high cheeks, full, sensual lips and determined chin. Power radiated from him, and he exuded a sense of authority.

  His dress was as different as his height and muscled body. Her people wore the clothing of the Old Ones. Simple wool vests in dark green or blue, broadcloth shirts and trousers for the men. Women were always clad in long dresses, some laced up front with a full skirt and formfitting bodice. Traditional. This Kallan’s leather-clad body made her feel tingly and caused wicked thoughts to race through her mind. What would he look like without the covering?

  She hadn’t expected him to look so sexy, so young. The Kallans of old in the Book of Records were ancients. The last Kallan had been a graybeard who wore dignified clothing, like the long emerald robes her Alpha wore at ceremonial celebrations.

  Tight leather covered his long legs, molded to his bottom. A hot flush rose to Emily’s cheeks as she stared at the prominent bulge between his legs. The Kallan swaggered with easy grace, gravel crunching beneath his booted feet. Never had she seen such a display of raw masculinity. He sucked up all the open space with his presence. A dangerous Draicon, formidable. Emotionless as well. Had to be, to do what he must.

  A small fear shook her. He looked like a fierce hunter who would flush out prey and never stop. Any thoughts that she could outrun him, outwit him, shattered like brittle glass.

  Suddenly he looked up from greeting those around him. His attention shot straight to the trees hiding her. He seemed affixed to her position as his eyes narrowed.

  Her heart galloped as she stumbled backward. This was not how she would meet him. Not cowering and lurking, but chin up, face forward.

  Not yet. She needed to gather the fragments of her tattered courage first. Emily slipped away, her bare feet making no noise on the soft grass.

  Later, when dusk fell and shadows cloaked the land, she would march up to the farmhouse and introduce herself. Kallan or not, Raphael would never best her. She would show him.

  Instead of the animosity and superior attitude Raphael expected, the Burke pack welcomed him with vigorous handshakes. Immediately he donned the unemotional mask necessary for his duty.

  Amid the glad-handing and introductions, Raphael scented her. Emily, the transition.

  Wildflowers, a hint of lavender. His attention whipped over to a small stand of pines. She hid behind them.

  Her scent spoke volumes to him. Fear twined with anger and tremendous strength. Underlying it was a strong femininity that flooded his body with sexual heat.

  Raphael stared. It must be Emily, the cursed one, but why was her presence so enticing? He scanned the Draicon around him. None seemed to sense Emily was nearby. No one acted affected. Except him.

  A small nagging tugged the back of his mind. But the sweet, sensual fragrance of Emily faded. He turned on his charming smile, the one reserved for uncomfortable situations. This pack didn’t seem anxious or upset as expected with his arrival.

  They seemed relieved.

  “Greetings, Kallan. We are m
ost happy to have you. I will see to whatever needs you have in regards to Emily’s transition.” Bridget, the Alpha female, gave him a wide, welcoming smile.

  This Emily. Yeah, he had need. A strong need to hunt down and flush out that alluring scent. Emily. Strong, fragrant. Not weak, as they’d told him.

  Urien, the Alpha male, was short, slim, with red hair, blue eyes and a strong chin. He stared with the usual arrogant, domineering look of a purebreed. Raphael refused to lower his gaze. He fixed his coolest look on the Draicon. To his surprise, Urien glanced away and stepped back, clearly surrendering.

  Most Alphas, engaged in such a bristling display of dominance, would step forward, give a small nod to acknowledge Raphael’s own position of power and shake hands.

  “Where’s Emily?” he asked, searching their faces.

  The pack shifted, shuffled their feet. “She is not welcome here,” Urien said bluntly. “It’s not important for you to meet her at this moment.”

  Raphael hid his angry bemusement. The Alpha pair refused to smooth over this very difficult time for Emily? What could be more important?

  He remained silent in his disapproval as they escorted him inside. They treated him with the usual reverence, but damn, they were all so cowering, refusing to look him in the eye.

  What the hell had happened here? Had the earth goddess’s curse taken hold of more than the doomed Emily?

  Bridget let him on a tour of the big, rambling Victorian farmhouse. She explained that the home housed the entire Burke pack but he could find no evidence of Emily.

  As he followed her up the staircase, Raphael stopped. He cocked his head, listened. Silence.

  “Your offspring, your young. Where are they?”

  Bridget looked uncomfortable. “We have none.”

  “None at all?” He was incredulous.

  “Our pack has lived and thrived here for decades, but breeding outside the pack and mixing the bloodlines is forbidden. As a result, our females have become barren. We have been unable to conceive for decades. Now if you’ll follow me…”

  “When was the last birth?” he demanded.