Immortal Wolf

by Bonnie Vanak

  Gulping down a breath, she continued. “I’m terrified of dying. You can’t understand because you’re so strong. I’d trade knowledge of the Old Ways for one ounce of your courage. All I ever wanted was to be like my family, fit in with the pack.” She stared at the forest floor. “I see how they are, and I wonder if I’ve wanted the wrong thing all this time.”

  Leaves crunched like broken glass beneath his boots as he approached. Tenderness shone in his dark eyes as Raphael cupped her chin and lifted it. Mesmerized, she could not look away.

  “I know how important family is, and the bonds of blood. But sometimes it isn’t enough. You have to be yourself. Dare to be different, if that’s what destiny calls for you.”

  She stared at him as he gently stroked his thumbs over her skin. “I don’t want to be different. I just want to be one of them. An ordinary Draicon, living in the ordinary world,” she protested.

  “Em, it doesn’t make you less of what you are. Sometimes you just have to go with what you’re called to do. It’s not easy being on your own and having a power others fear. It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But I’m here for you. I’ll help you understand, and find out why you are so special.”

  His touch warmed her skin as he caressed her cheek, each stroke heating her blood. “Your life is meant for a purpose. Others fear you because they don’t understand you or see you as someone who stands out from the pack. Stop running with them and trying to run away from who you are.” A humorless smile brushed his mouth. “Besides, chere, your pack isn’t so nice, so why be like them?”

  He bent his head gently and touched her lips with his own. “Be with me. Run to me, Em. I will not turn away from you, I promise.”

  His mouth feathered over hers in a soft kiss. Emily closed her eyes, marveling in the firmness of his lips against hers. His hands held her steady as he deepened the kiss, his tongue coaxing her to open to him. She parted her lips and he slipped inside, tasting her, his tongue plunging and retreating, brushing the roof of her mouth, tracing every part of the moist cavern of her mouth. Emily sighed and shyly met his sensual advances. Breath escaped her as he lightly nipped her lower lip.

  Raphael pulled away, his chest heaving, his eyes darker than the blackest night. Her own pulse beat frantically as she struggled to breathe, feeling the delicious flush of heat suffuse her entire body. The faint throbbing between her legs intensified.

  She knew now what it meant, and she knew what he wanted. He wanted to mate, but he waited patiently for her.

  She was ready now.

  Chapter 11

  A s Emily telegraphed her desire to him, a wildness entered Raphael’s gaze, a burning intensity of a beast who wanted to pounce and claim. But the barely leashed passion was held at bay. Raphael took her hands into his, studied them and brought her knuckles to his moist mouth to kiss. He closed his eyes, long black lashes feathering over his hollow cheeks.

  Then he turned her palms over. “Will you trust me, chere? You can’t hurt me. Let me fulfill what we both desire.”

  He was immortal. Her mate. Every instinct she possessed longed to touch him, cling to him and let no barricades come between them.

  With a little sigh, she nodded. Panic filled her as he reached for her gloves. Emily quivered, but he brought her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

  “Take them off. It’s time. Trust me,” he said softly.

  Emotion clogged her throat as Emily dragged in a deep breath. She peeled away the gloves, feeling as if she were shedding a layer of skin. Cool air washed over her whitened palms.

  Raphael very slowly brought his fingers close to hers. Her breath hitched, and sweat dripped down her temples. He touched her bare hand.

  He jolted, his head snapping back, then he smiled ruefully.

  “It felt like a tingle, like when you touch an electrical wire, but I’m still standing.” He touched her again, his dark gaze burning. “I think you need to touch me some more.”

  Her heart raced now with daring, not fear. Encouraged, she slid her fingers through his, clasping them. His grip was firm, comforting and strong, yet gentle, as if he knew his own strength. His skin was slightly calloused, the fingers long and lean, the nails neatly pared.

  “You see? Your touch doesn’t kill,” he murmured.

  He raised her bare hands to his face, turned one palm over and pressed a kiss to it. Emily trembled at the feel of his warm mouth against flesh that had not touched another in over a year. She yearned to touch him more, and when he released her hands, she brought them to his face. Hesitating only a little, she traced each angle of his jaw, the sensual curve of his mouth, ran her fingers over the thick, dark brows shading his enigmatic eyes.

  When she slid a finger past his parted lips to investigate his tongue, a groan fled him. He sucked on the pale digit, lightly bit it.

  Raphael removed her finger, kissed it again. Fierce intent burned in his gaze. “It’s my turn now.”

  His hands traced a pattern down her throat, slipped down to her breasts. He cupped them in his palms and stroked his thumbs over the hardening crest of her nipples. Desire pulsed inside her.

  “There’s one part of me that will never die when you touch me,” he said softly, a teasing light in his eyes. He brought her hand down to cup his groin.

  Her eyes widened at the steely hardness straining beneath the fabric.

  “I want you, Emily. Be mine.”

  Emotion overcame her. She could only nod.

  As he spread out the quilt on the ground, she gazed around. The canopy of oak, loblolly pine and red maple sheltered them. Overhead, a crow called out as a bluejay squawked at a squirrel. It felt fitting they should come together here for the first time.

  Raphael turned to her, touching a tendril of her hair escaping the tight bun. “Put down your hair for me. I’ve dreamed of this moment.”

  Fumbling with the pins, she plucked them free. A shower of pins fell to the ground and her hair, escaping the confinement of the tight knot, spilled downward in a cascade of red-gold curls. An inward hiss of breath came from him. He picked up a lock, rubbing it against his cheek, then touched the top button on her high-neck dress.

  Emily unbuttoned the dress, feeling shy and uncertain but guided by her longing to become one with him. He had far more experience. Raphael stood, silently watching her, a hank of dark hair hanging over his forehead.

  The dress fell open and spilled down to her ankles. She kicked off the sandals. Gooseflesh sprang to her arms. She was naked beneath it and shivered as cool air caressed her breasts. Self-conscious, she covered them. Gently, he placed his hands over hers and guided them to her sides.

  “Don’t hide yourself from me, chere. You’re too lovely to hide.”

  Cold before, she felt suffused with tremendous heat as he caressed her breasts. Emily arched beneath his touch as Raphael brushed his thumbs over the cresting nipples. When he bent his head and took one into his mouth, the warmth and the shocking sensation caused a whimper deep in her throat. He lapped his tongue, swirling it over the taut peak, then suckled her. She was growing hotter now, a fire stoking inside her as the sweet tension braced her body.

  When he stepped back and removed his clothing, arousal flared inside her. Breath caught in her lungs. He was stunning, hard, so different from her body. Even her pack. Muscles padded his broad shoulders, dark hair covered his deep chest. His limbs were athletic and sturdy, his abdomen ribbed and flat. She glanced down at his genitals and swallowed. Between his legs, his shaft jutted out, thick and long.

  The thought of taking his hardness into her body filled her with anticipation and slight fear.

  The blue-inked tattoo on his left biceps flexed as he stretched. “Like what you see?” he asked softly. “Come closer, chere, and touch me.”

  Emily ran her hands over the strong muscle beneath the tattoo. “Where did you get this?”

  “My adopted brother, Indigo, runs an ink shop.” Raphael closed his eyes, quivering beneath her str
okes as she caressed his velvety skin.

  She traced his body, the knobs of his narrow hips, his flat stomach, and then her hand shyly grasped the hard length of him rising from his groin. Raphael gave a low moan as her fingers danced along the soft skin, the rigidness beneath.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked.

  His eyes flew open, his gaze burning into hers. “In a good way.”

  When he kissed her again, they slowly fell to the blanket. A strangled sob escaped her as he slid his hand between her legs and began to stroke her wet flesh. Moisture seeped out of her and she arched.

  “Doesn’t it feel good?” he murmured. “I want to make you feel pleasure, little one.”

  Emily clutched his shoulders, squeezing the hard muscles as he thumbed her center, flicking over it. Raphael slipped a finger inside her, and her sheath squeezed around him.

  He stroked and caressed, then circled her center, feeling her tense beneath him. Shudders wracked her as Emily cried out, caught in the grips of a climax.

  He withdrew and mounted her, nudging her trembling legs open with his.

  Bracing his palms on either side of her, he held her gaze with a fierce intensity. “Look at me, chere. Only me.”

  Lashed with desire, she focused on him. Raphael surged forward, breaking the barrier of her innocence. Emily went still with shock. Burning pain accompanied the odd fullness. She felt invaded, caught in a storm she was helpless to control. Instinctively she writhed, trying to pull away from him.

  He held her face between his palms and kissed her. “Shh,” he crooned. “Just stay still. Trust me, little one, it will ease.”

  A bead of sweat dripped from his forehead down to her breasts. She felt him inside her.

  “We are one now, Emily. Nothing, no one, can part us now.”

  He began rocking back and forth, a gentle rhythm, creating a delicious friction that pushed past the pain. Emily clutched his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense beneath her grip. She arched and pumped her hips, as he taught her the rhythm, rubbing against him, feeling the silky slide of the hair on his legs against hers, moisture sheening his body as he moved against her. His gaze held hers as he claimed her with every push into her soft, moist channel, with the soft words he murmured to her in his Cajun French.

  Then she felt the tension in him build, and his big body went still and he threw back his head. Warmth spurted inside her, as cords on his cheek stood out in stark relief. Raphael cried out her name and then collapsed on her.

  Gently she stroked his damp hair as his ragged breath thundered into her ear. For a moment he lay still atop her, his head pillowed on her shoulder. Then he nuzzled her neck, giving it a gentle kiss, and slid partly off her. He was still inside her, still rigid as a tree trunk. She felt the wet stickiness of his seed and her virginal blood trickle down her splayed thighs.

  He rolled over, taking her with him so he was still nestled inside her, as if he didn’t want to separate them. Perspiration plastered his hair to his forehead, beaded in the curly hairs of his muscled chest.

  Experimentally, she rolled her hips and felt him twitch inside her. Emily tensed as he rolled her beneath him again. Raphael rose up on his elbows, giving her a small, private smile.

  “Breathe, Em. Just relax and breathe. This time will be better,” he promised.

  She had trusted him before. Little choice now. Emily slid her arms around his neck, anchoring herself to him. He began to move slowly, and at first there was nothing but the slight burn once more. He kissed her, long, drugging kisses that coaxed her response. He raised himself up and began angling his thrusts, rubbing against the part of her that burned in a different way.

  She ached, the tension building higher and higher. Emily writhed beneath him, wanting it, clawing for it. Her hands raked down his back as she hissed and twirled her hips, begging him with her eyes.

  When he thrust even deeper inside her, she screamed and bit his shoulder, tasting the salt of his skin. Raphael groaned with pleasure as he cupped her bottom and drove hard into her. The tension shattered, burned her as she came apart, her inner muscles squeezing him tightly, and he followed her soon after.

  Afterward, she lay in his arms, stroking the crisp hairs on his chest. Her hands traced his skin, reveling in the feel of muscle and sinew beneath her questing fingers. Emily rested her head on his shoulder as her fingers outlined his smiling lips. It was fitting they had made love here, in the woods she adored so much. It felt natural, unconfined, for her first time.

  He kissed her temple. “Better,” he asked softly.

  Shyly, she nodded. Marveling at the ability to touch him without fear, she fingered his streak of white hair, starkly contrasted to his dark, silky locks. “Where did you get this? Was it one of those Cajun traditions?”

  Raphael raised his eyebrows at her teasing tone. “When I went to the Other Realm and became Kallan. The lock marks my status.”

  “What was it like, to take the test?” She raised herself up and studied her mate. “What did you have to do? Were you afraid?”

  His eyes grew distant. “I had to make the journey and step into the mist off the cliff of the sacred mountain where all Kallans go to be tested. It was a long fall. Instead, I found myself in the Other Realm. Aibelle told me that to prove my worth and become our race’s Kallan, I had to perform one simple task.”

  Silence descended over him. Absently, he began stroking her hair and then began talking again. “It wasn’t so simple, but a test of courage and inner strength. I had already proved myself in the battles I fought with Morphs, and how many of the enemy I had defeated. Now I needed to know what it was like to die as the transitions whose lives I would take would die.”

  “You let yourself be killed?”

  A humorless smile touched his mouth. “The elder Kallan whose place I would take did it. It was on a stone altar at the training place where all Kallans learn before assuming their roles. It was terrifying. I knew if my heart proved false and I was judged as unworthy, I would die and never return.”

  She traced the white lock of hair on his head. “But you didn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t. But it wasn’t as simple as I’d been led to believe. The elderly Kallan struck me with disease, age and wounds first. Before my eyes, my skin wrinkled, my bones grew fragile and I aged 1,500 years. The pain was…intense.”

  Her heart squeezed at the haunted look in his dark eyes.

  “I resisted at first. The will to live came above all else. I fought the pain. I was proud, and nothing would fell me. The more I fought, the more the elder Kallan brought upon me. Then finally I realized it was time, and I begged him to end it.”

  “Why did he torture you so?” Emily hugged him, wishing she could have been there to ease his suffering.

  “Because then I learned why the role of Kallan was so important and how to surrender to death.” Raphael’s gaze grew distant. “That’s when he smiled, and told me, ‘Now you are ready to take my place. You have the strength to endure pain and the courage to ask for it to end. You know what your transitions face and why the Kallan is vital to our people.’”

  Emily caressed his beard-roughened cheek. “You are. And to me as well.”

  A shadow touched his face, but before she could question, he raised his head. His dark hair was tousled, and a small red mark flared on his shoulder from where she’d bitten him. “Let’s get back to your cabin. It’s getting too cold to stay out here, and though this place is safe, I’d feel better if you were surrounded by walls instead of trees.” He gave her an intent look. “But first…”

  Erotic shock rippled through her as he slipped his hand between her legs. Her virginal blood coated his thumb. Raphael walked over to a dead maple tree, split down the middle from a lightning strike. He wiped his thumb on the tree, causing her to blush.

  “A blood offering to Aibelle, goddess of the earth, to sway her from demanding your sacrifice. And a warning to your pack that I’ve marked you as mine now, and I never let go of what i
s mine.” His jaw was taut and the dangerous look came over him again.

  Emily’s eyes widened as her blood sank into the tree and vanished. She gazed upward as new bark began appearing over the scarred wood. From the tips of the branches, small green buds appeared.

  Raphael’s smile was tender. “You still have the gift to restore life, chere. This is why I harbor strong suspicions about your so-called death touch.”

  Emily slipped into her dress. Raphael wrapped her in his leather jacket and picked up the basket and the quilt. When she winced slightly at the soreness between her legs, he picked her up in his arms and carried her, despite her protests. Back at her cabin, he sent her inside while he walked around the outside of her cabin, iridescent sparks of magick floating in the air as he waved his hands and placed a strong shield around the perimeter. Raphael came inside, locked the doors and windows. “That should hold them.”

  “Hold who?”

  “Whoever wants to come inside that isn’t welcome.” His gaze swept around the living room. “Show me the ancient texts.”

  Emily stepped onto the footstool and removed the book from its place on the tall wood armoire. With reverence, she laid the book atop her kitchen table and opened it to the page she’d been trying to decipher. Her trembling finger traced over the page, telling him the translation meant a huge risk, but he took a bigger one in offering to present himself before the goddess. Even though he was Kallan, Raphael might not survive such an intrusion.

  “I translated part of the text. It says you must sink the blade into my heart to save our race. I could teach you to read the words, but it will take time.”

  “We don’t have time. I’ll have to resort to crossing over to the Other Realm and asking Aibelle.”

  Before she could question how, Raphael herded her toward the glassed shower enclosure and removed her dress. “You need to warm up,” he murmured, twisting on the hot-water tap.