by Karin Tabke
“I’m going to jump in the shower, then I have some computer work to do,” Lucien said as he strode toward the bathroom door. He left her on the bed and went into the bathroom and took his second shower of the night. When he emerged a few minutes later, Falon lay feigning sleep. He smiled to himself and chucked the damp towel across the room and grabbed a fresh pair of shorts from his armoire, then settled at his desk.
Falon’s restless movements in bed distracted Lucien. His work was not progressing as it should. He was tired, horny, pissed off over the night’s events, and fighting a losing battle with the green-horned monster: jealousy. He wanted the kind of devotion from Falon that Lise had for Joachim. Like Falon had for his brother, damn it! The emotions made no logical sense to him. He did not care about love and devotion. He cared about loyalty and courage, strength and intelligence.
“Lucien?”
Her soft voice startled him from his thoughts. He stiffened, refusing to turn around and look at her. He knew what he would see, and he knew what the sight of her would do to his semi-erection.
“What?”
“Is it hard?”
He grinned. “It’s getting there.”
A pillow smacked him in the back of the head. He focused on the computer screen in front of him. He’d double- and triple-checked the camera shutdown at four a.m. He’d peeked back into Skeet’s computer to confirm the appointment with “Longshanks,” his code name for the Slayers. Lucien could be done for the night—if he wanted.
“I wasn’t finished with my question.”
He clicked open a spreadsheet to take his mind off the stiffness in his shorts. Hundreds of numbers popped up on the screen. He did not see any one of them. “I’m listening.”
“Being alpha, is it hard? Do you ever want to just walk away from it?”
Though there was no doubt to his answer, it took him a long minute to respond. “It’s challenging at times. Most of the time. But I have never regretted my position.” He turned and looked at her. He about came in his chair. She was all long and golden, stretched out like the queen of Sheba on his bed. He swallowed hard. She had changed while he was in the shower. The sexy little thong panties that accentuated the soft curve of her hips and the formfitting spaghetti-strap half tee that hugged her lush tits like an offering should be arrested for the lewd and lascivious acts he wanted to perform on the body they adorned.
“I—” He forgot the rest of the question.
Falon smiled and brushed her dark hair off her left shoulder, exposing the hollow of her collarbone. It was sexy as hell. He loved dipping his tongue into and then across that silky spot. “Do you ever want to walk away from it?”
“No.” He exhaled. He wanted to plow right into it. “Never.”
“Not even a little?”
Lucien shook his head, his gaze holding hers. “Not even a little.” He would never abandon his pack.
She pulled the blanket over and across her body. “I’m glad.” She closed her eyes and turned on her side away from him.
Lucien blinked, ignoring the ache in his loins and his urge to demand from Falon what she freely gave his brother. He swiped his hand across his chin as the anger returned.
“Damn it,” he cursed softly. One way or another Falon was going to get so deep under his skin he’d either have to cut her out or let her take over his body. He wasn’t sure which would hurt less.
Damn it all to hell! He shut down his computer and blew out all but two candles, then slid into his big, comfortable bed that had become a torture chamber.
AFTER WHAT SEEMED like hours of tossing and turning, reliving frame by frame the horrible fight between the two Lycans, and Joachim’s terrible injury, it was Lucien who was predominant in Falon’s mind. Specifically his swift punitive damage followed by the gentle handling of his man. The first action she accepted, hell, expected no less from Lucien. But the latter threw her for a loop.
Just when she thought she knew what drove the complex alpha, he showed a side of himself that made her rethink her judgment. Falon mentally threw her hands up in the air deciding she would never understand Lucien Mondragon, and with that conclusion, she was finally able to fall asleep. It was short-lived. She was being chased through the timberline, running toward the safety of Vulkasin. The deep rumble of motorcycle engines closing in fast behind her. She looked over her shoulder and screamed. Dozens of armless Vipers, no more than three feet away, gunning straight for her.
Rafa! she screamed. He materialized out of the mist, his arms extended, running toward her.
Falon!
Her relief was so overwhelming she lost her footing and fell. She screamed as the burn of a hot engine seared her bare legs. Strong arms grabbed her. She looked up into golden eyes.
Lucien.
He pulled her out of the fire and into the safety of his arms.
With a start, Falon woke to a darkened room. It took her a moment to realize where she was. Who lay beside her in the big bed. Why she was with Lucien and not with Rafael.
Her heart tightened. Rafa. He was gone to her. Would she ever feel that wild sense of wonder at the world again? The way she’d felt with her true love by her side? Falon let out a long, exhausted breath. Would her heart ever recover? She shivered and knew she would never stop loving Rafael. Not as long as she drew breath.
Falon raked her fingers through her tangled hair. Resignation forced its way in. She may no longer have that vital part of her, but she was not dead, and despite her loss, she did not want to die.
She wanted peace if she could not have love. She wanted to belong if she could not have the arms of the man she loved around her every night. She wanted to make a difference, not fade into the woodwork.
In that glaring instant, Falon realized her chance was here. With Mondragon. Peace if Lucien could find a way to shelf his perpetual anger. She could belong to Mondragon if she simply allowed them to belong to her. And to that end she could make a difference because she was alpha. She had power, not just Lycan power but other powers she had no clue as to where they originated. But she could use them. She would use them!
It would not be handed to her. She would have to dig deep and work tirelessly to establish her place in this new world of Mondragon. And that work began with accepting the man whose bed she shared. And he was not making it easy.
“Lucien?”
I’m here.
She turned to find him lying on his side, calmly watching her. The weak candlelight flickered across his dark features, making him appear more dangerous than she knew he was.
“I—I had a nightmare.”
“I know.”
She lay back down on the bed. Her heart still thud against her chest, her skin was damp, her breaths shallow. The worst part of the dream had been Lucien’s part in it—that he had been her savior rather than Rafael. What did it mean? She turned her head and stared at Lucien, who returned her stare.
“I was being chased by dozens of Vipers. They had no arms; they were bleeding.” She squeezed her eyes shut, wanting to erase the gruesome vision in her mind’s eye. “I couldn’t stop them. My powers didn’t work, I had no way to defend myself—” Her eyes fluttered open to his deep golden gaze. “You saved me,” she whispered.
“Even in your dreams, I will protect you, Falon.”
His words melted through her like warm chocolate syrup over vanilla ice cream. Never did she expect that such a simple declaration could mean so much to her. Perhaps it was because it came from a man who spit nails for breakfast and ate fire for dinner.
She resisted the urge to reach out and touch him. Not in a sexual way, but with a simple, reassuring, thank-you type of touch. “Tell me about your chosen one.” Her question surprised her. It had been in the back of her mind to ask him, but he was always so damn angry she’d resisted.
The gold in his eyes snapped and crackled. He rolled onto his back and locked his hands behind his head. “There is nothing to tell.”
Falon scooted closer to him an
d poked him in the rib. “You said you would never lie to me. There is plenty to tell. Now tell me.”
“If I asked you to tell me about Rafe, how would you feel discussing him with me?”
“I would tell you whatever you wanted to know.”
He cracked a smile. “Now who is the liar?”
She moved closer to him, folded her arms across his chest and set her head down on them to look him straight in the eye. His body stiffened beneath her arms. She ignored the warning and pushed a little harder. “I want you to tell me about her so that I have a better understanding of you.”
A small muscle flickered along his left jawline. “What do you want to know?”
Falon almost jumped for joy. “How did you meet? What was her name? What did she look like?”
He cocked a dark brow at all of her questions.
“You asked me what I wanted to know, so I’m telling you.”
He let out a long breath and clamped a hand across his forehead and closed his eyes. “I met her at a bar in Oakland.”
“Really? A bar bar? How unromantic.”
He opened his eyes, though he did not remove his hand. “A bar where you drink alcohol and pick up women.”
“But you were underage—”
“I am Lycan; I go wherever I choose.”
An arrogant Lycan. “Is that why you were at the bar? To pick up a woman?”
“Yes, Falon, it’s what men do.”
He stared at the ceiling. “We had just come off a killer hunt. We’d hit the jackpot that night. Balor and his brother Edward had just left the premises when we blew in, but we hit the extended family jackpot. We were the last thing they were expecting that night. We were the last thing they saw before we sent them to hell.”
Lucien glanced at Falon and reached out to touch her hair, but withdrew his hand. “Me and the boys were looking to celebrate. We cruised the streets of Oakland until we found an out-of-the-way bar. A place we could tear up. We started drinking and we were feeling damn good. Then she walked in. The minute I saw her, I knew I was going to take her home. But she wasn’t as easy of a target as I usually encountered.” He smiled. “She made me work for it. Had me jumping through hoops. At seventeen, I was doing backflips to get into her pants.” He grinned. Falon pursed her lips, not caring at all for his fond memories of this ghost that hung between two brothers. “And when I did, that was all she wrote.”
“Did you love her?” she stiffly asked.
“I loved her as much as a lusty seventeen-year-old male could love.” He scowled as if he remembered something vital.
“What?”
“Rafa was up north on his spirit journey. The pack was in my hands. They became restless each time she came to the compound. When I moved her in, they began to fight.”
“Don’t you think it’s odd that when she was around, the pack was so restless? Before she came to the compound, was there ever infighting?” They obviously did not care for his choice. Neither, Falon decided, did she. But lust was blind.
“None to speak of. We were young for alphas, and with just one of us in residence, I think they were nervous with Rafael away. And the females of the pack were resentful I didn’t choose a Lycan mate.”
That made sense. “What was her name?”
“Mara.”
“Hmm…”
He looked at her. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Falon played off her unexpected irritation. “In several cultures, Mara is equated with death. In some lore she is literally the goddess of death.”
“She was beautiful. Like a vibrant flame. Full of life. Until Rafael destroyed her.” Lucien did not say it with anger, just matter-of-factly, as if he were reading off a laundry list. She understood his pain, what little he was showing of it. It was hard to believe Mara was the cause of the strife between him and his brother. Had Lucien ever truly mourned her or had he just jumped headfirst into his blood feud?
“You never had a chance to mourn her death, did you?”
“I didn’t need to.”
“Lucien, to heal we all need to go through the stages of loss. You have been stuck in the anger stage for almost sixteen years. It’s time to let it go.”
He turned blazing eyes on her. “It’s not something I can just get over. I was inside of her! She was in my arms when Rafael ripped her heart out of her chest!” He swiped his hand across his forehead again and rubbed his temples. “She died in my arms. She didn’t deserve to die that way. So excuse me if I’m still a little pissed off about it.”
“Lucien, I understand the trauma of having your love ripped from your arms.”
He snarled.
But she would not back down. He needed to heal even if she had to force it down his throat. “Listen to me!” She pushed off his chest to give him space. “I understand the pain that goes with it. I understand the denial, the anger, the depression, the everything! I’m living it! But is there any way you can find it in your heart to at least try to accept the fact that your brother, the brother who loved and still loves you, did what he did because he believed she was a Slayer who had smitten you with her black magic?”
“He never gave her a chance to disprove his suspicions!”
“He didn’t give her a chance because there was no question in his mind. By the Blood Law he had no choice but to slay her.”
“She was not a Slayer! I would have seen it in her eyes, but more than that, I would have sensed it when I was inside her. Rafael slew her because he wanted the pack for himself.”
Falon inhaled a deep gulp of air and then slowly exhaled. Getting angry and raising her voice was not the way to get through to Lucien.
Calmly she said, “Rafael is ruled by honor, not by greed. You know that better than anyone, Lucien. You call him out on it every chance you get. You use his code of honor against him. And knowing that about your brother, you know he would have challenged you fair and square for alpha rights if he believed you were not worthy of the position. He didn’t have to kill your chosen one, Slayer or not, to achieve that.”
When Lucien did not immediately counter her words, she lowered her voice and said, “And Lucien, did Rafa ever say to you or any one else in the pack he wanted to do anything but share alpha rights with you?”
“Rafael wanted everything.”
Falon shook her head not buying it. She knew Rafael Vulkasin. He was not a greedy man, except when it came to her. “Perhaps you mistook his concern and sense of responsibility for the pack for greed. Maybe when word got to him how you were acting with Mara and how she made the pack uncomfortable, Rafael felt he had to make a stand. Maybe he was right about her being a Slayer, maybe he was not, but, Lucien, I swear on my own life, your brother will go to his grave believing he killed a Slayer that day. In that, can you at least try to put this behind you?” Falon watched Lucien for any sign of softening. His jaw remained clenched, his muscles tense. “The rising is imminent; Mondragon and Vulkasin are the two most powerful packs in the world. United they will infuse all the packs with hope!”
“The packs will fight for their lives. That is enough motivation.”
“You are a hypocrite.”
“There is nothing hypocritical about my hatred for my brother.”
“What did you say to me earlier tonight, Lucien? Pack first. Not only are you not putting Mondragon first, but by holding on to your hatred, you are condemning them to death.”
“Let me worry about my pack.”
“They are my pack, too!”
He rolled over and faced her. “Since when?”
“Since I chose to stay.”
“For the next week?”
“Why do you purposefully make it more difficult for me to stay than it has to be? I told you, I was staying. You threw the seven days on the table, not me, so don’t even pretend that it was my idea.”
“Regardless of what you do, I will never reconcile with Rafael.”
“Pride is the devil’s handmaiden, Lucien. It will kill you
and every Lycan that follows you into battle.” Falon shook her head, desperately wanting to get through to him. This was not about her and Rafael; this was about the survival of the nation. A nation she was part of. A nation that had taken her in when the world at large would not. “Lucien, your hatred is eating you from the inside out. Let it go or it will kill you.”
“What do you care if it does?”
She cared. God help her, but she cared. She still did not understand fully why, but…
She scooted closer to Lucien, wanting to soothe away his hurt. She touched his shoulder. His skin was smooth and warm. He flinched and shrugged her hand off. “I can’t touch you now?” she demanded.
He rolled over and faced her, so close their breaths mingled. “I’m pulled about as tight as I can be pulled, Falon. The slightest touch from you and I’ll snap.” He rolled over onto his back and dug his fingers into his hair. “And when I snap, there will be nothing you can do to stop me from taking what I want.”
His words sent heat straight to her womb. “What if it’s what I want, too?” she said huskily.
He looked hotly at her. His lips slid into a sly smile. He moved over her, pinning her to the mattress. His erection was hard and warm against her belly.
Falon swallowed hard. He was in a deadly mood. And damn if it didn’t turn her on. He lowered his lips to hers, his hair brushing along her cheeks. “Do you think you can fuck your way out of here?”
“Argh!” Falon screamed and shoved him so hard, he flew from the bed and crashed into his desk. She jumped to the floor and came around the foot of the bed. “You are by far the most colossal ass to walk this earth, Lucien Mondragon! You can go fuck yourself! Because I’ll be damned if you’re ever going to fuck me again!”
She grabbed his pillows from the bed and threw them at him. “Go sleep with your horny pack. You are no longer welcome in my bed.”
Lucien grinned up at her and raked his fingers through his hair.