Rogue Heart

by Samantha Wolfe

  I don't know how long I sit there sobbing and wallowing in my pain and sorrow, but eventually I feel eyes on me. I jerk my head up to scan the area, scenting nothing on the breeze, then freeze when I see a huge black wolf just outside the tree line across the clearing and downwind of me. He stands there stock still, his cobalt eyes blazing in the shadows cast by the woods behind him. I've never seen Ronan's wolf before, and he's just as beautiful as the man, just as compelling with fierce eyes, a lean powerful frame, and thick jet black fur.

  I let out a choked whimper filled with relief and insufferable longing as I rise to my feet and lurch toward him.

  His eyes flare brighter, and he surges forward to race gracefully across the clearing toward me. I only make it a few feet before I'm dropping to my knees with my arms spread wide and Ronan is stepping into my embrace and laying his huge furry head on my shoulder. I bury my face and hands in his soft ebony coat and breathe him in as I reach for our bond, but I feel nothing and only smell wolf. I still in bewilderment, but my confusion ends quickly when my fingers find the necklace hidden in his thick ruff. Without a thought, I yank the damn thing off of him before he has a chance to stop me and drop it in the grass.

  I sigh deeply as our bond reconnects and I can feel Ronan again, can breathe in his wild earthy musk in all its trueborn glory. The wolf and the man's joy at being with me again sinks deep into my heart and fills me up inside, even as the man's turmoil of guilt and fear underscores it. I don't care though because the empty pit that's been sitting in my chest since yesterday morning is gone now. I feel whole again, complete, and the relief flooding me is immeasurable.

  "Ronan," I say between sobs as my tears soak into his fur.

  He whines as his body suddenly stiffens, then begins to convulse in my arms. I let go and watch the shift shudder painfully through his body for several moments until the man is finally kneeling in front of me and gathering me up in his arms to pull me in close to his warm naked skin.

  "Lyric," he says in a gravelly and rasping voice, his entire body trembling with aching need.

  His lips capture mine with a blistering kiss that transcends the mere physical. It's something deeper and far more meaningful than just lust, and it's as necessary as breathing. He growls and moans into my mouth as he continues kissing the hell out of me. His hands are all over me, in my hair, on my face, and snaking beneath my shirt to get to my bare skin. His touch is electrifying, leaving contrails of scorching pleasure across my flesh. When we finally come up for air, he snatches up the nearby pendant, scoops me up into his arms as he stands, then takes long hurried strides toward the cabin, clutching me close, like something precious he's afraid to lose.

  Once we're inside, he sets me on my feet in the tiny kitchen and tosses the necklace onto the nearby counter. Then he swiftly strips off my clothes without a word as his eyes blaze fiery cobalt with lust and need. When I'm finally naked, he clasps me against him with a low groan, the lengths of our warm bodies pressing together as he takes my mouth yet again and his hands roam over my body. This kiss is raw and bruising as his desire scorches through our bond and leaves me lightheaded and weak in the knees. He pulls away panting again and captures my gaze with lust maddened eyes.

  "Need your mouth on me, sugar," he says between gasping breaths. "Need to feel you." His expression and his voice are equally desperate and pleading. "Please."

  He pushes down gently on my shoulders, urging me to my knees, and I let him because I need this too, just as much as I can feel he does. I want to worship him with my mouth, lavish him with sweet pleasure until I make him lose his mind. And although I've never done this before, I lean in confidently and wrap my hand around the base of his already leaking cock. I take a moment to breathe in the heady scent of my mate's musky arousal, then slowly glide my tongue over his crown, lapping up the salty pre-cum as I hum softly. He groans as his pleasure sweeps into me and ignites my own desire to greater heights. I move closer and trail my wet tongue up the underside of his cock from root to tip, then swirl it around the head making his knees wobble and threaten to buckle. I pull back to look smugly up at his wrecked expression and grin.

  "Oh fuck, Lyric," he says gruffly, his fingers weaving gently into my hair as his glowing eyes sear into mine. "More."

  I hold his gaze and nod, opening my mouth wide and taking him between my lips to move slowly down his length until I gag a little, then suck deeply with hollowed cheeks as I pull back up to his crown. He tastes and feels amazing, so hard, yet his skin so velvety soft on my lips and tongue.

  "Yes," he says, his voice raw and breathless. "Just like that, sugar."

  I do it again and again, quickening my pace with each pass and relishing the deepening scent of his arousal and the way his fingers tighten in my hair. His hips start to flex as he unconsciously takes control, thrusting into my mouth as I eagerly take it, gagging and drooling and moaning around his dick.

  "So fucking good, sugar," he says as his head sinks back, his voice tight and strained. "So damn good...so...so..."

  His words trail off into an unintelligible jumble of appreciative grunts and growls as he fucks into my mouth faster and faster until his entire body jolts above me with his threatening orgasm. He gasps and abruptly pulls out of my mouth, much to my disappointment, then yanks me up onto my feet to kiss me again with almost violent ferocity.

  He grips my thighs and lifts me up his body, and I wrap my legs around his waist and bury my hands in his hair as we continue mauling each other's mouths. I feel him stagger a few steps forward and hold me with one arm as he reaches out to sweep everything off the kitchen table to thump onto the floor. Then my back hits the cold table top with Ronan's body following to loom above me. His lips move away from mine, and he laves his tongue across my chin, my neck, and my chest as his hand slides down my belly toward my throbbing pussy.

  His mouth latches onto one of my breasts just as his fingers hone in on my clit. I arch up with a loud gasp as he simultaneously sucks on my nipple and swirls his fingertips over my swollen little bud. He skillfully works me closer and closer to the edge until I'm teetering on the brink of release. Then one long finger slips inside my body to twist and curl and stroke against this magical spot inside me that instantly flings me over the edge into an explosive orgasm. My core ignites and pleasure streaks outward to engulf me. I wail and thrash beneath Ronan as he captures my lips with his again. He continues finger fucking me hard and deep, drawing out my release in a rising spiral of bliss as he growls into my mouth, his smug satisfaction flooding into me.

  I start to come back down, but before I've even had a chance to catch my breath or gather a single thought, Ronan is already pushing his cock into me. He presses in slowly, steadily, letting me feel every wonderful inch as my insides delightfully stretch and shift to accommodate his long thick length. When he reaches the end of me, he stills for a moment as we both moan and clutch at each other. His mouth moves to my ear, his scruffy facial hair scraping along my skin as he gently nuzzles my cheek.

  "Oh sugar." His voice is deep and tremulous as he shudders above me. "I missed you." He takes a shuddering breath and pulls nearly all the way out of me. "I need you. I...I...I..." He thrusts back in deeply, his tone like sweet nectar in my ear as he says, "I love you."

  A surge of warmth and affection floods into me along with his words and I cry out his name with joy as I orgasm in a long sweeping wave that nearly takes him with me. He arches back and groans above me, his eyes rolling in his head as he rides along with my pleasure. When he regains control, his hips flex as he begins to move inside me, in and out with swiftly building intensity. Soon he's rocking fast and deep into me with his hands curled around the edge of the table, and my legs clenched around his waist. I cradle his face in my hands as our eyes stay locked together and not only can I feel his emotions, I can see them swimming and swirling in his glowing wolf's eyes. Desire. Passion. Love. And when we both finally reach the pinnacle to balance on the razor's edge, I say the words that
send us both ascending into ecstasy.

  "I love you."

  Ronan's eyes suddenly flare with brilliant blue fire as he roars out our shared release. I scream along beneath him as our pleasure collides and melds together. My entire body shudders and quakes as he bucks against me, his warm seed spilling into me as my sex squeezes repeatedly around his pulsing cock, milking every last drop.

  When we're finally calm enough to catch our breathes, Ronan wordlessly gathers me up into his arms and carries me over to the couch in the next room. He gently lays me down, then slips in behind me and pulls me into his arms to spoon around me with his warm body and tender emotions cocooning me in pure joy and light. I feel loved and cared for, complete for the first time in my life, and quickly sink with him into a serene and contented sleep.

  25

  RONAN

  In my dream, Cormac pulls his cigar stub out of his mouth and points it at the wooden practice sword in my aching hands. "Lad, you're gonna do this till you get it right or your arms fall off," he says in his usual harsh and guttural brogue as wisps of acrid smoke seep out from between his lips.

  "Yes, sir." I nod as I briefly take one hand off the hilt to wipe the sweat from my brow. Then I adjust my grip in preparation to go through the kata again.

  I've already been going through my sword forms for over an hour now, and Cormac still isn't happy with them. The man is a perfectionist, and I don't want to let him down. I need to try harder.

  "Good," he says, shoving the cigar back in his mouth."I'm not gonna have you get killed because I didn't train you right." He grins wide amid the dark shaggy beard covering most of his scarred and sun-weathered face, then runs a hand through his short, but equally unkempt hair. "And I sure as hell didn't pluck your starving ass out of the snow just to let you die before your time."

  I smile back at the shorter stockier man who took me in close to nine years ago. He's the closest thing I have to family now. He found me in the forest as a skinny pile of fur and bones unsuccessfully trying to survive a particularly hostile northern winter on my own. I'd been living almost exclusively as the wolf for so long by then that I'd nearly lost my humanity in those first three years after losing my family. Not only did Cormac take me in, but he didn't think I was an actual wolf anymore than I thought he was a human.

  From what he taught me about the supernatural world, I suspect he's a fae or fairy creature hybrid of some kind since he hasn't aged a day since I met him, but yet iron didn't adversely affect him like it would if he were a pure blooded fae. The fiercely private man has never volunteered the information, or anything else about his past, and I've never asked anymore than he asked why I wanted him to teach me to be an assassin like him. Our histories didn't matter as long as he taught me what I needed to know so I can one day find and kill Rett Weylin.

  "I'll get it right," I say. "I promise."

  "I know you will, lad." Cormac's nearly black eyes gleam with pride as he pats me on the shoulder with a stiff nod.

  It's the closest he ever gets to showing me affection, but it's enough for me. He's a tough and demanding teacher, but I know he cares about me a great deal, even if he doesn't overtly show it or say it.

  "I'll leave you to it then." He turns and stalks off through the surrounding trees with the silent and deliberate steps of a deadly killer, a plume of hazy cigar smoke trailing along in his wake. I vow to myself not to follow after him until I perform the kata so flawlessly that I can do it without a conscious thought.

  Several hours of effort later, and with the last bit of energy I can muster, I finally get it right as night falls. I finish with a perfect flurry of my practice blade, grinning before I slide the wooden sword back into its scabbard at my side and make my final bow. Then I just stand there for a few moments gasping for oxygen as a satisfying fatigue falls over my aching body. Cormac would be proud.

  I gather up my pack and canteen, gulping down the last of the water before making my way back home, unbothered by the darkness that's fallen over the thick forest around me. I haven't feared the darkness since my first shift, and my night vision illuminated it for what it really was, my ally, my comfort, my safe haven. I breathe in the night in all its glory and savor it as I move silently through the trees at an unhurried pace.

  Halfway home, my stomach begins to grumble and growl, and I eagerly pick up speed. I used up a lot of energy in the hours I spent practicing my kata, and now I'm starving. I caught a couple of plump rabbits earlier today, and Cormac promised to cook them along with some roasted potatoes from our small garden for dinner. The man could make the simplest meal on our wood-burning stove taste like a rich man's feast, a feat my bland attempts at cooking never quite accomplished.

  I lift my nose to the shifting breeze as I approach the primitive little cabin built into a dirt mound that Cormac and I call home out here in the middle of nowhere. I expect to find the scent of wood smoke and cooking food on the wind, but I smell neither and frown in puzzlement. I breathe in again as I grow closer, and this time pick up the hint of a familiar thick and coppery scent. Blood. I jerk to a stop as icy dread instantly spills over me, then quickly scan the area, straining my eyes and ears to catch any sign of a threat hidden in the trees around me. I see and hear nothing. I'm surrounded by an oppressive and heavy silence that's far more telling than any noise ever could have been.

  I fling my pack and practice sword to the ground, then yank my clothes off and shift as fast as I can. The clicks and snaps of bone and muscle morphing under my prickling skin echoes sickeningly in my own head. It hurts like a motherfucker to hurry the shift along like this, but wielding a wooden sword won't do shit for me if I'm walking into a fight. I'd rather have my teeth and claws.

  When I reach the edge of the small clearing around our home, I stop just inside the tree line. The only door into the cabin is hanging wide open. I can see the soft light of the oil lantern Cormac likes to use glowing from inside the doorway, and from the two small windows set into the sides of the grass-covered mound. The scent of blood is stronger now and so is my sense of dread. I continue watching and suddenly see a shadow pass behind one of the windows. Someone or something is inside, and I have a bad feeling that it isn't Cormac moving around in there.

  I slink across the clearing on silent paws sifting the air for any hint of what I'm walking into. But I find nothing but the familiar scents of the cabin mixed with the metallic tang of fresh blood.

  I reach the open doorway and carefully peer inside. The faint flickering light of the lantern illuminates the wreckage of broken furniture and other items strewn wildly around the interior, along with arcing lines of blood splattered here and there. I see the bottom half of a pair of legs lying completely still on the floor and wearing scuffed up boots that I instantly recognize. Cormac. I can hear the faint gurgling of weak and labored breaths that don't bode well at all.

  Not thinking, I rush into the cabin in a panic, and find exactly what I feared. Cormac is sprawled across the rough-hewn floor, his torso a criss-crossing riot of long slashing wounds with blood all over him and bubbling up from the deepest one across his chest. I still in horror as a pathetic whimper slips from my muzzle.

  And that's when the darkened shadows to my right suddenly seem to writhe and come alive. A dark humanoid shape coalesces and rises up tall and menacing above me. Even with my night vision it's still so indistinct that I can't make out a face or anything else remotely recognizable to tell me what it is. I whirl toward the thing with a savage snarl, ready to attack with everything I have just as it rushes toward me. Even if it kills me, I'll make sure it dies for what it's done to Cormac, my mentor, my friend.

  I slash out with sharp fangs, expecting to meet flesh, but the shadow seems to roil away and reform again just out of reach. What the? The thing instantly takes advantage of my momentary shock and lunges forward, plowing into me like a freight train and sending me flying across the room like I weigh nothing. I slam into one of the thick wooden support beams with a yelp as I
feel a sickening crunch in the center my spine, then drop like a stone into a limp pile on the floor. Stunned by the white-hot explosion of pain, yet still determined to keep fighting, I immediately attempt to scramble to my feet, but my back legs won't work. Fuck. They're useless to me until I have the chance to heal, a chance I won't get because I'm a sitting duck for that shadow thing now. I'm about to die right along with Cormac, but I won't go down easy.

  I haul my upper half up off the floor and twist around to face the coming threat, snarling with teeth bared and at the ready, only to find...nothing. The shadows in the room have returned to normal. The thing is just...gone.

  Not having the luxury of putting anymore thought into it, I drag myself by sheer force of will back over to Cormac, ignoring the searing pain hammering my spine until I'm by his side again. He's still breathing, but it doesn't look good. I immediately shift, hastening the healing of my broken back in the hope that I can do something for him. The pain is utterly excruciating as my body simultaneously transforms and nits itself back together, its intensity nearly stealing my consciousness at the end.

  Once human again, I look down at Cormac as I fight to catch my breath. His eyes flick toward mine and struggle to focus. His face is ghastly pale and blood bubbles and seeps from his mouth. His slashing wounds are deep and innumerable, soaking his entire torso in blood that's already pooling around him. My heart sinks into the floor as I realize there's nothing I can do, no way I can save him.