by Trisha Telep
I stared, and then, strange as it sounds, I laughed. “You’re kidding me, right? We have both become monsters?”
“You’re not a monster,” he said, his voice almost a growl, his brows furrowing into an angry frown. “We come from an ancient noble bloodline of Pict warriors. We’ve vowed to protect humans at all costs – even with our own lives. ’Twas the price our ancestors paid for our lineage.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, closed my eyes for a few seconds, then opened them again. I stared hard at Lucian. “You keep saying we. Who’s we?”
“My clansman. There are six of us. You, despite being a mistake, make the seventh.”
Once again, shock froze me. “So that’s it? Like it or not I’m a MacLeod wolf by association?”
He moved so fast my eyes barely kept up. One second Lucian was standing several feet away, in the next less than three inches separated us. He lifted his hand to my shoulder and pressed the pads of his fingers against my wound. “’Tis by much more than association, girl. You’ve got my blood rushing through your veins now and there’s no’ a WUP agent alive who can cast it out of you.”
I could feel my heart race at his touch; my skin heated several degrees and I tried to move past him. He wouldn’t let me. I felt his eyes on me, studying me with such intensity I had no other choice but to look at him.
“What do you want from me?” I asked. I found myself breathless in his close proximity. I felt hysterical tears push behind my eyelids. “What am I supposed to do?”
Lucian’s silvery-blue gaze regarded me for a long time before answering. “For now, you rest. You’re goin’ to need it.” He moved away. “Then, we train.”
For the longest time that night, my eyes remained wide open. Hours maybe. Lucian had left the bothy, but I knew he was close by – maybe just outside the door, probably waiting for me to go to sleep. I got the sense that he knew me way better than I knew him; almost as though he could read my thoughts, knew my fears, and strangely enough, consider them.
I stared at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling and let my thoughts ramble. Had Pax known about the ancient rogue curse, and about Lucian’s clan, would things have turned out differently? Would he be now transitioning into the very thing he hunted? I shivered at the thought of Pax’s fate; I hated it. It was weird, though. Part of me felt like WUP had abandoned us. The other part, though, knew they’d done exactly what they had to do. Pax and I had both been well aware of the risks involved in being a WUP agent and part of that risk was maintaining the agency. I suppose I’d never considered being bitten by a wolf.
“Do you have family?”
I hadn’t even heard Lucian enter the bothy, but he had; he now stood just in the recesses of the shadows of the room. I’d not noticed the storm that had begun raging outside; it was there, scratching and clawing the windows of the cottage. “No,” I answered, sitting up. “Not really.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, his voice strangely seductive, raspy, deep.
I strained to see him. “Foster kid. You know, in the system? A ward of the state. I was shuffled around from one foster home to another until I was eighteen. Then, I was on my own.”
Lucian was quiet for some time before answering. “It’s better if you’ve no family, no one to miss you,” he said, and moved closer. I could see nothing more of him than an outline; yet I felt his gaze hard on me. “No previous life ties.”
“What’s it like?” I asked out of nowhere, intensely curious about what my body was going through.
Again, Lucian was quiet. “As your body changes, your senses will heighten. Your hearing mostly and sense of smell. You’ll gain mortal strength – which you’ll have to learn control over – as well as your wolf self.”
I considered that; it was hard to take in. A myriad of random thoughts hit me at once. “Where am I supposed to live?” I asked. “How the hell will I earn money? Support myself?” Those along with a million other thoughts crowded my brain. “This is insane,” I muttered under my breath. “Not happening.” I rose and walked to the single window facing the moors; a red hue illuminated the night sky.
Then, Lucian was there, behind me, not touching but so close I could feel the heat radiating off his skin. “Aye, ’tis happening,” he said, his voice low, and his breath brushed the side of my neck and made me shiver. “You will say goodbye to your old life, Ms Slater, mourn its loss, and get over it.” His hands grasped my shoulders and turned me around. His eyes flashed silver in the filtered light. “This is your life now.”
The way Lucian’s illuminated gaze bore into mine mesmerized me. I know it sounds crazy, but I felt as though I’d known him my whole life. And, as strange as it sounds, even before then. We stood in the shadows of the bothy – I had no idea what time it was – and stared. I’m not sure if he waited for my acceptance, or a reaction, or if we were simply trapped in a powerful moment. I didn’t care. There was a palpable, physical attraction – so strong it felt feral and unlike anything I’d ever experienced. He hadn’t released my shoulders, but his grip loosened and now, it felt intimate and hesitant at once. I wasn’t sure if my new senses had kicked in, or if it was because we stood so close, but I could hear Lucian’s heart beat. It was a strong, steady sound that reverberated inside my head and overpowered every other sound in the room. His hands slid from my shoulders to the column of my throat, then cradled my face. My heart beat quickened.
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” he said again, his brogued, raspy voice low and strained. “But once you were, I knew I could never let you leave.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. I wanted to touch him, but I kept my hands balled into fists, hanging at my sides.
His thumbs grazed my jaw. “MacLeod wolves mate for life,” he said, his head lowering. “We’re marked from birth, as are our mates. Sometimes, the pair never encounters, and they spend eternity at a loss,” he nuzzled my neck with his chin, whispering in my ear. “The mark at your left shoulder blade,” his lips brushed the shell. “I’ve an identical one. Destiny brought you here, Gin, to me, and I’m verra sorry – I couldna let you go.”
I stared up at him, entranced, excited, completely drawn to him. “You bit me on purpose,” I said softly, and I knew the answer before it came.
“Aye,” he said against my ear. “I did.” He nuzzled me again, his cheek to mine. “’Twas the only way to make you mine.”
Timidly, I lifted my hands to rest against his chest, and then slipped them higher, to encircle his neck. Gently I tugged him closer.
I didn’t have to ask for anything else.
Lucian’s mouth found mine, settled there and lingered; he breathed deeply, and his heart’s pace quickened. With a gentle nudge, he pushed my lips open with his, our tongues touched, and a low groan escaped his throat as he pulled me hard against him and kissed me. Desperation laced every taste; agonizing, intense sexual attraction raged within him – I could feel it. It raged within me, as well, and I fell against him, dying to be closer, feeling as though we were already one, needing more.
Lucian, as though he could read my thoughts, walked me backward, our mouths never parting and together we fell to the bed. My clothes burned me, I wanted them off, and Lucian obliged. I felt out of control, and I grasped his shirt and yanked hard; buttons flew, and I pushed the material off. He managed his jeans, and barely fast enough. Finally, nothing separated us and Lucian moved on top of me, his weight pressing into my body; I revelled in the feel of it.
He looked down at me, his face sharp planes and shadows. Bracing his weight with his elbow, his other hand lifted to my face. With his fingers, he traced my lips, my chin, my throat. “You’re mine, Ginger Slater,” he said. He lowered his head and brushed my lips. “Mine,” he whispered hoarsely against them, and my heart raced, my breath quickened, and I shoved my hands into his hair and kissed him hungrily. Lucian groaned and kissed me back, starving, his touch desperate and everywhere, and I wrapped my legs around hi
s waist and opened for him; he took me, pushed deep inside of me, filled me.
“Lucian,” I whispered against his mouth. “You’re mine.”
He sighed, whispered – a language I did not know, words unfamiliar to my ears, then kissed me and began to move; slow at first, then becoming frantic, as though he couldn’t get enough, and I matched his rhythm with my own frenzied moves. The orgasm started deep within my core, slowly built through every sensitive nerve-ending in my body, and then shattered within me; a thousand shafts of light splintering into tiny specks behind my eyes. I held on to Lucian as he followed. I felt his orgasm grow, explode, and he wrapped both arms around my body and held me as our releases calmed, our heartbeats slowed. He rolled on to his back and dragged me atop him, my breasts resting against his chest, our skin melding into one. He lifted a hand to my cheek; his thumb grazed the line of my jaw, then he slid his hand around my neck and pulled my mouth to his and kissed me long, slow, erotic. His other hand slipped over my buttocks, my back, and settled in the lower curve there, holding me firmly in place. Then, he broke the kiss and looked at me for several moments.
“I couldna just let you go,” he said quietly.
I traced his full lips with my index finger. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to.”
We needed no more words; just our bodies melding, our hands exploring, our mouths tasting. We joined again, slower this time, so much slower, seductive, both of us silently claiming the other. Finally, we slept.
It was the only night I slumbered without nightmares of Pax.
* * *
Over the course of the next week, Lucian slowly introduced me to my new world, my new body, my new senses. I’d not be able to master them all for some time; my hearing was exaggerated and sometimes hurt my ears and insides. My sense of smell was so good, it overwhelmed me and I couldn’t determine one smell from the other – except for Lucian’s scent. His was unique and solely Lucian’s and I could detect it a mile away. My strength and speed was immature but growing fast; almost too fast. I tripped, I fell, I hurled myself to speeds which my old body couldn’t handle yet. I busted my ass more times than I could count. But Lucian was right there to help me up.
Each night, we made love and fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms. Each night, I dreamt. Pax pursued me in his human form, always in a heavy mist, always through a dense wood. The white fog slipped through the trees and brush like long reaching fingers, and I ran hard, stumbling and not in control of my new speed and strength. Pax, for some reason, was. His white spiked hair appeared behind every tree, every rock, as though he toyed with me. And every time, he’d catch me, back me against the base of a tree. This is your fault, newbie. I’m here, trapped as an abomination, all because of you. I don’t know whether to thank you or rip your throat out. I’d awaken, shaking violently, breathless, just before Pax shifted into his wolf form and lunged at me, teeth bared. I kept the dreams from Lucian. I thought I could handle them, or that they’d just go away. I was so very wrong.
It was weird, mine and Lucian’s relationship. I felt completely at ease with him, as though we’d known each other forever. He’d had nearly three weeks to come to terms with the fact that I was his marked mate; I’d had about twenty-four hours. Still, I accepted it readily and willingly. It felt … natural, as though my life was to turn out no other way other than here, in the Highlands of Scotland, with an ancient Pict warrior-wolf. It felt even more natural to become one. I can’t explain it without sounding like a lunatic, but there you go.
Lucian and I left the bothy the last day of my transition and travelled north and west to the MacLeod stronghold. Situated on a sea loch, the massive grey stone fortress, complete with four imposing towers, dominated the seascape. It literally robbed my breath.
“You live here?” I asked incredulously. I glanced at him.
Lucian laughed, and reached over and grasped my hand. “Nay. We live here.”
My heart swelled at his words. We’d not exchanged the L-word yet; somehow, it just didn’t seem right. But we’d both claimed one another, and the word mine sounded nearly as powerful, if not more so, than the word love. There would be an adjustment period, for both of us. But of one thing I was absolutely positive: we were meant to be together.
Lucian pulled onto a single-track gravel lane that led to the massive front doors of the castle, and before we had the Rover in park, five big guys emptied the entrance and made their way towards us. All dark-haired, with bodies that looked like they swung axes and swords and kicked ass for a living. They made their way towards us.
Lucian glanced at me and laughed. “They won’t bite.”
I looked at him and raised a brow. “Doubt that.”
I climbed out of the Rover, slammed the door, and faced the MacLeods.
“Gin, my brothers. Arron, Raife, Christopher, Jacob, and Tristan.”
Arron walked up and embraced me; the others followed. “Welcome,” Arron said, his eyes flashing quicksilver.
“About time we had a lass around the place,” Jacob said, and the other laughed.
The MacLeods welcomed me, and as it was with Lucian, the same held true with his brothers. It felt like I’d known them my entire life.
The MacLeod fortress entailed no less than 200 acres and the shoreline, and inside the castle, a modernized habitat befitting of an ancient wolf clan of Pict warriors. Primeval mixed perfectly with contemporary. It was mind-numbing to think how long ago Lucian and his brothers were born; how long they’d lived.
They prepared me for my transition that night; in all honesty, there wasn’t much they could do except stand by and wait; help out if needed. Lucian warned me the first time was painful, and he apologised more times than I could count. He held me in his arms, kissed me, smoothed my hair from my face, and promised to not leave my side until it was over.
By nightfall, as the moon began to rise, Lucian and his brothers walked me to the shore line, encircled me, and waited. I immediately knew it had begun when my skin began to itch. I felt as though I wanted to crawl right out of it, and I clawed and scratched at my arms, my neck, my abdomen. My temperature rose, higher and higher until I thought I would self-combust. My skin was on fire, and I began to pull at my clothes. No matter that it was October in the Highlands; I was hot. I didn’t have time to yank them off, either. I felt my skeleton give way, the popping and rubbing sounds reverberating inside my head. I cried out in pain, and in my peripheral sight I saw movement and knew it was Lucian. He stopped abruptly, and didn’t advance further.
My heels and long bones shifted, elongated, contorted, and just when I thought I couldn’t take the pain and heat a second longer, I fell to the ground, let out a low, long, bay, and it was over. I leapt up, shook my body, and met the silver gazes of six other wolves, their shaggy dark coats glistening in the moonlight.
We ran that night, my new brothers, my mate and I. We ran from the west coast of Scotland clear to the east, along the shores of the North Sea, and it was invigorating, mind-freeing. My new body rocked with sensations and I wanted to keep running. I saw everything through my new eyes, and it was as though I saw the world for the very first time. Lucian ran beside me, his silvery blue gaze watching me closely. We spoke to each other in our minds. He never left my side. At some point, exhaustion overtook me, we made it home, and I fell hard asleep.
When next I woke, I was in my human form, tucked closely against Lucian’s body. The sun had not yet risen and I felt invigorated. I wanted to explore the shore, so I slipped from our bed, quickly dressed, and headed outside. No one else stirred. I was the only one awake.
The brisk Highland air greeted me, along with a healthy dose of mist. I found it strange not to be cold, but my core stayed at over 100 degrees, so there was no need for a jacket. I breathed in the air, sweet with clover and something else I couldn’t name, and I took in my surroundings. On the left side of the gravel lane, a meadow and at its edge, a dense copse of wood filled with towering pines and oaks.
Then, I saw it. Through the slender ribbons of mist I saw something white move into view. I stared, my newly sharpened vision trained on the spot. Before my brain registered what my eyes saw, I knew it. Pax. He waited for me. Without a thought, I took off towards him at a jog and by the time I reached the wood line, I was at a full run. Pax had disappeared.
I eased through the trees, the canopy above keeping out any light that may have filtered in, and I searched for Pax. Deeper into the wood I moved, determined to settle things with my old partner. Surely, no matter his fate or mine, we could come to terms. We’d been partners. We’d sort of been friends. He’d watched out for me. I knew, despite the awful dreams, he wouldn’t hurt me.
In the next instant something heavy slammed into my body and I was knocked hard against the base of an aged oak. I was turned abruptly and when I looked, the man who pinned me against the tree was not Pax. I frowned, shoved and cursed. “Get the hell off of me,” I growled and shoved my knee into his balls. “Now!”
He sucked in a breath but quickly recovered. “Oh, no, love,” he said, his accent thick, his tone full of hatred. He pushed me hard against the tree. “We’ve been waiting at the chance to get at Lucian MacLeod and his brothers and you’re it.” Without warning, he punched me – caught me right in the jaw and my head snapped back and slammed into the hard wood of the tree.
I glared at him. “He’ll kill you,” I said, my pitch lowering.
The man laughed. “Right. We’ll see about that.”
Four other men emerged from the wood. One of them was Pax. He ambled up to me, his eyes laced with disgust. He pushed the guy away from me and leaned close to my ear. “You did this to me, newbie,” he said, just like in my dream. “I can never go home now. I’ll never see my wife again, thanks to you.” His breath brushed my neck. “I’ve half a mind to just rip your throat out now instead of letting these assholes use you to bait your mate.”
I met Pax’s hard glare. “Do it,” I said. “Stop talking about it and do it.”