The Lonely Wolf

by Monica La Porta

  A sweet ache pressed over Ludwig’s chest as the memory of the last time he had made love to Quin played back for him.

  “That look right now tells me you have your answer.” Alexander was about to refill Ludwig’s cup with some fresh espresso when his cell phone rang. “Pardon me, but it’s Ravenna,” he said with a smile. “Hello, my love—” His mouth open, he paused to listen to Ravenna firing back, “Something’s happened.” Color draining from his face, he asked, “What is it?”

  Since his hypersensitive ears would have heard the whole conversation even if he had no intention to eavesdrop, Ludwig pushed the chair further back and stood to give the Greek some privacy.

  Raising his free hand, Alexander made a sign for Ludwig to stay.

  “He’s asking for Ludwig.” Ludwig heard Ravenna say at the other end of the call.

  “He’s actually here.” Alexander passed the phone to Ludwig.

  “Hello, Ra—” He couldn’t finish his greeting sentence, because Ravenna interrupted him with a frantic, “A vampire entered Casolare del Lupo, and—” which he interrupted back by asking the only question his brain could muster, “Is Quintilius okay?”

  “He’s fine, but Camelia was attacked. She’s in ICU at the Tiberina Island Hospital. Caelum has been called…”

  At the mention of the warlock, Ludwig pushed the cell phone back into Alexander’s palm and strode toward the dummy’s corner where he had left his shirt. A moment later, he was outside the gym and airborne.

  He landed on the hospital’s roof, then spiraled down the large marble stairwell and reached the entrance to the ICU, where he immediately saw Quintilius, pacing outside. The werewolf wasn’t alone. Ophelia and Peter stood by one of the columns, silently looking at him.

  Ludwig waited for his wolf to sense him, but Quintilius was too preoccupied and didn’t see him until Ludwig was halfway down the hallway. At the sight of the dark circles under Quintilius’s eyes and at his clothes—now two days old—covered in dark red stains, Ludwig had to fight the impulse to run and take the werewolf in his arms. Instead, he slowed down his gait and walked toward the trio. Quintilius raised his head and looked at him. Pain was etched on his face as he stroked his jaw and then passed his fingers through his mane.

  Stopping before Quintilius, Ludwig asked, “How is she?”

  “They just let Caelum in.” Quintilius’s voice was a hoarse whisper, his eyes distant.

  “What happened?” Unable to bear Quin’s haggard sight without being able to soothe his sufferance, Ludwig stepped by the side, so he would face the ICU’s door instead.

  “Claudius sent a reminder,” Quintilius said, backing a few steps until he reached the cream wall for support. “She’s lost lots of blood—” He looked down at his hands, then brought them to his face and covered his eyes. “For a moment, a very long moment, she didn’t breath, her heart was still, and I thought I’d lost her.” He shook his head. “If she had died—” A long shiver ran through him. “I don’t know what I would do without her.”

  Aware that both Ophelia and Peter were watching them, he stepped closer to Quintilius and lowered his voice. “Don’t talk like that.” His hand reached out for Quin’s arm, but he stopped himself before touching the werewolf.

  “I was played like an idiot.” Quintilius, a statuesque man whose countenance would scare into obedience all the other alphas, looked frail.

  “It wasn’t your fault—”

  “I fell for the oldest trick in the book and left her alone, unprotected.”

  “Quin—”

  The ICU’s door opened, and the blond warlock came out, heading straight toward Quintilius.

  Chapter Nineteen

  A day earlier.

  After driving down the hill, Lupo parked the car by one of Reserve’s gates, then looked at Jasmine and smiled.

  “Ready?” He took her small hand in his and kissed it.

  “I’m ready.”

  He leaned to brush her lips, then exited the car and ran to Jasmine’s side to open her door. Cradling her in his arms, he carried her to the fence while kissing her, and only then he let her go.

  “I’ll catch you.” He jumped the high wooden fence, waited for her to clear the edge, then welcomed her in his arms at the end of her jump. High on happiness and with Jasmine anchored to his back, he ran to the glade by the river he had seen from above.

  The chirping was louder on the ground, and the waters ran by fast, licking the rock walls of the basin with a lulling pattern. A gentle breeze cooled Lupo’s body before he started sweating in earnest under the tunic.

  Once every few meters, he would tilt his head backward to steal a kiss from Jasmine. “Tell me where you want me to stop.”

  She nodded, then said, “Now. This is perfect.” From above his shoulder, Jasmine pointed at a field dotted with white flowers.

  He slowed his pace until he was walking. Once in the middle of the meadow, he lowered her to the ground, then removed his tunic for her to sit on. “The grass is dewy.” Stark naked, he looked down at her.

  “You’re truly magnificent.” Her voice was hoarse, and she brought a hand to her chest. “I’ve never seen anything as beautiful as you.”

  Sitting by her side, Lupo laughed and dipped his head to brush her nose with his. “And that’s probably the only reason I’ll ever be grateful for your upbringing.”

  “It isn’t like I’ve never seen a man in all his glory before.”

  “What do you mean?” His temper rose right away, leaving him burning in the chilly night.

  “I’ve got unlimited access to internet, you know?”

  “And you’ve been looking at naked men?” he asked, barely masking his growing anger. The fact he too went online to look at naked women didn’t seem relevant. Rationality evaded him where Jasmine was concerned.

  “Really?” She gave him a raised eyebrow. “What’s your excuse?”

  He was too upset to answer her.

  “At least I have one good reason to look at pics and videos—”

  “Videos too?” he choked.

  “Oh come on! You’re the king of double standards. I can see in your mind which one you watched last.”

  Lupo’s anger morphed into embarrassment, and he raised his hands in surrender. “That’s just a fantasy, nothing else.”

  She snorted. “Well, quit dreaming, because it’s not happening.”

  “But I have a thing for generous-sized were-snow leopards—”

  Jasmine’s eyes became dangerously cold. “You’re still alive only because I know you’re joking. Next time you complain about my mind-reading, remember this moment.”

  “Yes, master.”

  She swatted him, but he wrapped his hand around her wrist and said, “I like that you have a temper.” He grabbed her other wrist and brought them together between them.

  “Keep thinking what you’re thinking, and you’ll see my temper all right.” Unable to move, she reached for his lower lip and playfully bit it. “In any case, as I was saying before you interrupted me, I wasn’t going to wait for my mating night to see what all the buzz was about.”

  He felt slightly better by her revelation, but his blood still ran too hot at the thought of Jasmine watching other men. Again, rationality and fairness weren’t his strong suit. “Enough talking about this.” Teasingly, he pushed her to the ground and blanketed her with his body. “I’ll give you private lessons from now on. Whatever curiosity you might have, you ask me,” Lupo whispered in Jasmine’s ear, and was pleased by her chuckle accompanied by a shiver. “I think it’s about time I unwrap my gift.” He rolled to the side and reached down for her chiton.

  “I love you.” She placed a hand over his, but not to stop him. “Here and now, under the moon and with the blessing of the Goddess, I’m yours, forever.”

  “I love you.” Lupo’s heart skipped a beat. “Here and now, under the moon and with the blessing of the Great Wolf, I’m yours, forever.” Lightheaded, he lowered his lips to hers and
kissed her slowly and at length, until they both were panting.

  His hand under the hem of her chiton, he resumed his exploration, raising the fabric unhurriedly, and enjoying her soft moans as he brushed her naked skin. “Your curves are divine.” He splayed his fingers over her thigh. “You were made for me.” He inched one hand higher, his fingers traveling down to the inside of her leg, while he kept raising the hem with the other, caressing his way up.

  At the junction of her legs, he couldn’t resist any longer and dipped his fingers to find her panties. He smiled against her mouth, when he felt lace under his fingertips. He didn’t give her much warning, just, “I need to see you,” when he kneeled before her and spread her legs with his hands.

  “Lupo—” His name sounded like a prayer on her lips.

  He wanted nothing more than to tear her chiton apart, but what was left of his brain reminded him they didn’t have spare clothes, so he pulled her tunic up and over her head, then threw it away. When the whole of Jasmine was bared to him, he remained speechless.

  Curvaceous and soft, she was his idea of the perfect woman.

  You’re the most beautiful girl in the whole world.

  “Thank you.” She blushed and the pink spread to the swell of her breasts loosely covered in the white lace he had already unclasped in the car.

  He couldn’t help but cup one round mound, then reverently leaned down to kiss the edge between the bra’s ruffles and her skin, teasing her with his tongue while he traced the contour of her breast. Lavishing one breast with his mouth, he caressed the other, his fingers slipping under the lace.

  “Lupo,” she pleaded once again, her mounting want mirroring his own.

  His hand traveled back down, brushing her from over her panties at first. For all his sexual experience, he felt like a teenager struggling to impress his date with a decent kiss. When he applied a slight pressure, she responded to him with a drawn gasp that set him on fire, and he slid his hand under the lace. At the same time, he kissed his way down from her breast to the waistband of her panties where he paused and said, “You smell like the gardens of Eden,” and pulled the lace to the side, uncovering her.

  With a louder moan, her hands went to his head, kneading his hair and pressing him down to her.

  “You’re perfection.” Ever so gently, he lowered her panties, then caressed and kissed her, listening to the pattern of her breathing, changing his rhythm to make her say his name louder and louder, until she screamed.

  Shoring his weight on one elbow, he retraced his steps, trailing brushes and light bites all over her, removing the bra all the way as he finally reached her mouth for a searing kiss. “As the Great Wolf is my witness, I’ll love and cherish you all my life. Forever and ever, I’ll be yours,” he whispered when he leaned away to look at her.

  Her eyes sleepy, and her pose languid, she circled her arms around his neck and said her vows. “As the Goddess is my witness, I’ll love and cherish you all my life. Forever and ever, I’ll be yours.”

  Feeling her body still throbbing under his hand, Lupo rolled on top of her, and taking care not to crush her, he positioned himself between her legs. “Mine, panther.”

  “Mine, wolf.” She nuzzled the point of his nose with hers.

  As his wolf howled to the moon, calling the panther, Lupo slowly thrust inside Jasmine. Her softness welcomed him, and his fangs erupted at the same time as hers did.

  Love. I. You. She.

  Love. I. You. He.

  His wolf and her panther exchanged their vows, then disappeared from Lupo’s and Jasmine’s combined minds. Their bodies moving like one, their fangs pierced each other’s shoulder. The ecstasy of the marking was prolonged by the physical pleasure of their union and their combined scents.

  Colors exploded behind Lupo’s eyelids when Jasmine rode a second wave of rapture, caressing him intimately, and triggering his own release with such intensity, he reached a pinnacle so high he lost consciousness for a moment.

  “Lupo?” She was panting, struggling to catch her breath, her hands moving over his back in long circles.

  Atop her, he chuckled against her neck. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

  “I didn’t think it would be so beautiful.”

  “Me neither.”

  “Is that normal?”

  “No, it’s definitely not normal.” He raised his head and kissed her forehead. “But I’d never made love before. You’re my first.”

  She could read his mind and understood his meaning. Her eyes became liquid and a fat tear escaped her luscious black lashes.

  “Don’t cry, my love.”

  “It’s happy tears.” She pressed her hands over his neck to lower him to her again, and brushed her lips over his fresh mark. “I want everyone to see you’re mine.” She scraped the edge of her teeth over the ragged cut she had just left.

  The sharp pleasure bordering pain was all Lupo needed to feel the need to take her again.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Quintilius—” Caelum’s face was withdrawn, his posture slouched. He had been more than an hour alone with Camelia, and he looked worse for the wear.

  When the warlock paused a moment too long, Quintilius’s heart froze in his heart. “Don’t spare me.”

  Caelum gave him a small smile. “I’ve given her last rites and helped her wolf calm down.” He opened his arms to the side. “Now, she must fight and convince the Great Wolf she wants to live.”

  Peter patted Caelum’s arm. “Thank you.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Quintilius hurried to say. “It means a lot to me.”

  “No need to thank me. I’ve had the pleasure to meet Camelia, and I would’ve come even if Ophelia hadn’t called me.” Caelum swayed and reached out to steady himself against a column.

  “I’ll grab a coffee for you.” Peter turned on his heels and strode away, followed by Ophelia.

  “Tell me she’s going to make it.” Quintilius knew the warlock was exhausted and needed to recharge his energy, but he needed reassurance even if none could be given.

  Caelum bit his lower lip, then shook his head. “Her aura is frail, alpha.”

  “What about her wolf?” Placing a hand over Caelum’s arm, Quintilius steered him toward the adjacent room where there was a couch.

  “Her wolf is stronger than she is, but she hasn’t run in so long, she doesn’t remember what it feels to be alive anymore. She will abide Camelia’s decision.” Caelum lowered himself to the cushion.

  Quintilius swore under his breath.

  “Camelia has been practicing her healing art, and that has saved her body from the vampire’s attack, but there’s something else, a malevolent force at work inside her.” Caelum leaned his head on the backrest.

  “What kind of force?” Quintilius asked.

  “I can’t say, but I’ve lent her strength to battle against it.” Caelum let out a long breath, then closed his eyes

  “Let him rest,” Ludwig said from the doorway.

  “I can’t lose her.” Quintilius left the warlock alone and exited the room.

  “You won’t.” The angel regarded him with his beautiful, sad eyes that saw inside his soul. “She knows she’d kill you too.”

  “Have we been so wrapped up in our story that we didn’t see how many people we hurt in the process?” More and more lately, Quintilius had asked himself that question. “Did love make us conceited?”

  “I don’t know. But I love you still, and I can’t change it.” Surprising Quintilius with the sudden action, Ludwig grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him close. “So I’ll change all the rest.”

  The angel’s mouth descended upon Quintilius’s before he could do anything to stop him.

  “I don’t care if the whole of Rome is watching us,” Ludwig said to his ear after the stolen kiss.

  “Ludwig—”

  “I’m done with all the hypocrisy. If loving you makes me less of an angel, so be it. I never liked being one in the first place.” Still holdin
g his arm, Ludwig lowered his forehead to Quintilius’s. “I’m tired of hiding.”

  Peter and Ophelia walked in on them, and out of habit, Quintilius stepped away from the angel. If the two had thought their closeness strange, it didn’t show on their faces.

  “We brought some for you as well.” Peter offered him a fuming Styrofoam cup. “It’s hospital coffee, but better than nothing.”

  “And fresh croissants had just arrived from the bakery. So at least those are good.” Ophelia showed them the tray with assorted breakfast pastries.

  Taking the cup from Peter, Quintilius shook his head at Ophelia. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry.”

  “You should eat something.” The worry in Ludwig’s voice was hard to miss, but yet again, neither Peter nor Ophelia reacted to the angel’s overly familiar behavior toward Quintilius.

  “Yes, please, just have this one. It’s small.” Ophelia picked one of the croissants for him. “Please?”

  The ICU’s door opened, and the doctor who had admitted Camelia came out. His eyes searched among the small crowd and lit in recognition when he found Quintilius.

  “Mr. Quintilius—”

  Leaving the cup in Ludwig’s hand, he was at the doctor’s side a blink of an eye later. “How is she?”

  “We did everything we could. In her condition, it’s hard to make predictions. Had she been able to shift, I would’ve said she would recuperate in a few months. But given her inability to free her wolf, we’ll have to wait and see. Medicine can only do so much.” Sporting the same dark circles under his eyes as everyone else working in the ICU, the doctor hugged himself. “I’m glad you called the warlock. He’s well known here. His empathy and strong knowledge of aural magik have saved more than one patient we thought had no hope of survival. Sometimes, what needs to be cured is the soul more than the body.” His gaze went to the door. “In the meantime, we’ve run a full battery of tests and we are waiting for the results. I’ll keep you informed.”

  “I need to see her,” Quintilius said.

  The paramedics had let him in the ambulance with her, but at the hospital, Camelia had been taken directly to ICU, and Quintilius’s last image of her was one he wanted to forget.