He smiled as his jeans and underwear hit the floor. "It's the animal in me." He crouched at her feet. His nostrils flared. "I can smell your heat."
Her thighs squeezed together as more moisture seeped from her.
He lifted a foot and nuzzled the arch. Then he licked her toes and nipped at them. Her leg twitched.
"Are—Are you sure you should bite?" She thought that was how a werewolf was made.
He nipped at her ankle. "Are you afraid of turning furry, sweetheart?"
"Well, I think I have enough problems already, just being me."
He chuckled. "I love you just the way you are." He licked a path up her calf. "I would have to bite hard, break the skin, and get my saliva into your bloodstream."
He tickled the back of her knee with his tongue. "And I'd have to be in wolf form at the time. So, you're reasonably safe."
"Reasonably?"
"You can't reason with a beast."
Her heart stuttered when he growled low in his throat. He moved around her body on his hands and knees, nuzzling her naked body, rubbing his nose across her tingling skin, licking her, tasting her. No part was off limits. Her ears, her neck, her armpits.
With another growl, he pounced on her breasts. He licked them, squeezed them, suckled the nipples hard. They turned red, the tips distended and tender. She groaned, arching up into his mouth.
And then, with a push of his hands and his nose, he flipped her over. Her breasts, overly sensitized, scraped against the horsehair blanket. She pressed her legs together, close to climaxing.
He nuzzled the back of her neck, tickling the tiny hairs and making her shiver. Then he licked a path down her spine. He kneaded her rump, licked and nipped till she was squirming.
She gasped when he pulled her onto her side and nudged his head between her legs. With his head pillowed on her thigh, he lapped at her.
She squealed and pressed her thighs against his head. With a growl, he nuzzled his face deeper into her. His tongue seemed to also have super speed. She screamed, her body shattering with a massive convulsion.
"You're mine." He nipped at her bottom, then pulled her onto her knees.
"Wait." Her knees were rubbery. Her body was still throbbing with aftershocks. She rested her forehead against the blanket, struggling to catch her breath.
"I've got you." He grabbed her hips, supporting her with his hands as he plunged into her from behind.
She cried out. He was incredible. He filled her completely. He pulled out slowly, dragging the sensation, setting her on fire. "Phil!"
He plunged back into her. He supported her with one arm, then leaned forward to nuzzle her neck and hold her hand. He pumped faster. The tension started to build once more. He growled in her ear, then reared up onto his knees, taking her with him.
She leaned back against his chest. His hands slid up her body and squeezed her breasts.
"You're mine," he whispered in her ear.
"Yes."
He reached between her legs and tweaked her clitoris as he ground into her vagina from the back. She screamed when the orgasm slammed into her. He let out a hoarse cry, eerily similar to the howl of a wolf. As he tumbled onto the blanket with her, she knew her future had been decided. The beast had claimed his mate.
"Are you all right?" Phil asked when her breathing finally slowed.
"Yes." She cuddled against his body.
He was flat on his back, still in the cellar. He wrapped his arms around Vanda and rubbed her back. He was relieved she knew his secret, but now he had another problem.
Brynley had seen his display of Alpha power. She'd been the leader of that damned group that had scared Vanda so badly. No doubt that had been Bryn's intention—to scare Vanda out of his life. Where his sister had managed to find the rest of those young cubs, he had no idea.
They were probably in the woods now, hunting fox or rabbit. As normal werewolves, they would be in wolf form all night, changing back to their human bodies shortly before sunrise.
The last thing he'd wanted was to let Brynley in on his secret. Achieving Alpha status was a major event in the Lycan World. She'd let Dad know about it as soon as possible.
The firstborn son was Alpha. Phil had proven his worthiness to be Heir Apparent.
"How did you become a werewolf?" Vanda whispered.
"I was born this way."
"So you were a beastly child?"
He snorted. "Lycan children don't usually have their first change until puberty. I was thirteen."
"It must have been scary. And painful."
"Yeah, a little. But we were prepared for it. When you've heard the stories all your life, about the rush of freedom you'll feel when running through the woods, the thrill of the hunt, and the victory of the first kill, then you're really happy when it finally happens."
She stroked her fingers through his chest hair. "How did werewolves get started? Was there some kind of strange, rabid wolf that bit a human?"
"It's a very old story. I remember sitting in front of the fire, listening to my parents tell it." He rubbed her back. "Would you like to hear it?"
"Yes." She rested her head on his chest. "Tell me."
"My family are the descendants of an ancient line of Welsh royalty."
She raised her head. "So you're a prince?"
"I wouldn't go that far. These ancestors were more like wizards than kings. They possessed many strange powers, and one of them was the ability to transform into any sort of animal. Over time they developed personal tastes for what sort of animal they liked to change into. The favorites were wolf, bear, wildcat, and hawk."
"The hunting animals," Vanda murmured.
"Exactly. Why change into a mouse when you can be a lion? My direct ancestors preferred the wolf. Everything was fine until the Romans invaded. The Celtic tribes were falling in defeat. My ancestors realized they could escape Roman rule by living as wolves."
"Did others live as bears, wildcats, and hawks?" she asked.
"Yes." Phil assumed that was the beginning of Howard's family of were-bears. "While my ancestors were in wolf form, they mated. They discovered those children were bound permanently to the wolf. They could no longer choose which animal they wanted to turn into."
"And werewolves were born," Vanda whispered.
"Yes. Every now and then the Romans would kill a werewolf, and it turned back into human form. They were superstitious and fearful of some sort of supernatural retaliation if they didn't keep our secret. They called our tribe the Philupus for those who loved wolves. The name has been passed down in my family for centuries. It's my name, actually."
She gave him an incredulous look. "Philupus?"
"Now you know why I prefer Phil. After the Romans left, my ancestors thought it would be safe to go back to living in human form. But a few generations had passed and they found they couldn't stay human all the time. They changed on the first night of a full moon."
"So they were doomed to turn into wolves every month for eternity," she whispered.
He smiled. "I wouldn't call it 'doomed. I've never met a werewolf who didn't love that burst of freedom we get every month when we can toss all human rules and conventions out the window and act like…animals."
"You find it liberating."
"Yes." Phil sighed. "Or it should be. There are some among the Lycan World who think we should adhere to our own traditions. Supreme Pack Masters can be very powerful, and they try to force everyone to do as they say."
Vanda sat up. "You had trouble with someone like that?"
He nodded. "My father."
She winced. "I'm sorry."
"It's all right." He caressed her arm.
"He wouldn't approve of me. Your sister doesn't either." Vanda glanced at the trapdoor. "When is she getting back? That's an awfully long hike—Oh." She slapped her forehead. "Your sister's a werewolf."
"She was one of those wolves who scared you."
Vanda made a face. "She really doesn't like me."
&n
bsp; "She doesn't know you yet. And don't worry about her. I'll have a good talk with her."
"Were all of those wolves werewolves?"
"Yes, but they won't bother you again. They know you're under my protection." Phil sat up. "So how come you're so afraid of werewolves?"
She flinched. "I–I told you. They were hunting me."
"You never said why."
She slipped her underwear on. "You know, you ruined my bra. I hope your sister has one I can borrow."
"She bought some clothes for us. Come on, Vanda. I told you my secrets. It's time you told yours."
"You'll hate me." She stood and walked away.
CHAPTER 20
Vanda levitated through the trapdoor, landing on the ground floor of the cabin. A cool breeze prickled her skin, and she rushed to close the window Phil had left open.
She heard a sound behind her and turned. Phil was standing by the trapdoor. "You can jump that high?"
He nodded.
So that was how he had managed to get upstairs at the warehouse in New Orleans. She glanced warily at the windows flanking the cabin's front door. No blinds. No curtains. Welcome to the Wyoming Peep Show. She crossed an arm over her breasts. "Someone could see us in here."
"A lucky squirrel maybe." Phil smiled. "The nearest neighbor is miles away."
"The werewolves are out there." She moved quickly to the kitchen area, which had no windows.
Phil followed her. "Lycans always strip before changing. Nudity is not a big deal for us."
Her gaze flitted down his naked body. "Easy for you to say when you look like that. But I would imagine some of the guys would be a little uneasy about displaying their…shortcomings."
He snorted. "Lycan men don't have shortcomings."
"Right. You're as big as your egos, which is fairly huge." She removed a kitchen towel from a drawer and grasped the pump handle.
"Here, allow me." He worked the pump, and water spewed from the spout onto her towel.
She scrubbed her face and neck, wincing at how cold the water was.
"What happened to you in Poland after you became a vampire?"
She swallowed hard. The coffin of horrors took shape in her mind. "I–I need more water." She held the towel under the spout.
He pumped more water for her. "What happened?"
She washed her chest and torso. "I buried my little sister." The coffin rattled, trying to break open. "More water."
He gave her some more. "And then what?"
She wiped her arms. "I had borrowed a shovel from a nearby farm. I was returning it to the toolshed when the farmer found me. I was instantly overwhelmed with hunger."
"You bit him?"
She leaned over to wash her legs. "I ran outside and bit his cow. For the first few weeks I was so confused. So hungry, and so terrified that I might kill someone. I didn't know what to do. I hid in caves and fed off animals. I felt like I'd become an animal, too."
"Your…sire didn't help you to adjust?"
"Sigismund?" She snorted with disgust. "I wanted nothing to do with him or Marta. I left them the night I awoke."
"There's something I need to tell you." Phil frowned. "The prisoner at Romatech, the one they captured at Apollo's compound—it was Sigismund."
Vanda's breath caught. Her skin chilled. "Are—Are you sure?"
"Yes. He was one of the Malcontents masquerading as a god in order to feed off the girls and…rape them."
She sighed. That had been one more reason she'd fled from Sigismund. She had known he would abuse her. She could tell he had abused Marta, although her sister had seemed to want it. "I ran into him a few times when I was hiding in the caves. He would always laugh at me and say I was doomed. There was no way I could escape the almighty Casimir. Then I would teleport away before he alerted Jedrek Janow." She shuddered. "Sigismund is an abusive pig. I hope you guys made him suffer."
"We did," Phil said. "When I found out who he was, I nearly killed him."
But he didn't, she thought. Phil only killed in self-defense. He was an honorable person, unlike her.
Vanda rinsed the towel. "Marta's in America. I saw her at the warehouse in New Orleans, fighting with the Malcontents."
Phil winced. "That must have been a shock for you." He took the towel from her and rubbed her back.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hands.
"How did you get involved with the underground resistance?" he asked.
Her eyes flew open. Good Lord, the man never gave up. "Do you know where your sister put those clothes she bought?"
"The bag's on the kitchen table." He set the towel on the counter. "You're avoiding the subject."
"You bet I am." She strode to the table and removed the items from the plastic bag. Underwear and bra, close to the right size, jeans and a western-style shirt.
"I realize it must be painful."
"Dressing like a cowgirl?" she asked wryly.
"No, talking about your past."
"Oh, do you think so? Can you imagine losing your father, your sister, and four brothers to war? Jozef was only twelve! I couldn't find out if they'd died in battle or were taken prisoner. I hoped they were prisoners, that they were still alive, but when I saw the concentration camps, I almost wished they were dead."
She strode back to the kitchen sink. "I learned how to teleport by accident. I was standing outside a camp one night, staring through the barbed wire and wishing there was a way I could get inside to see if my father or brothers were there. And the next thing I knew, everything went black and there I was, inside the camp."
She pulled off her underwear and rinsed it out in the sink. "I rushed through the bunkhouses, searching for my family, but they weren't there. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. So many prisoners, crammed in so tight."
The coffin cracked open. God, no, she didn't want to remember. All those prisoners, those gaunt, emaciated bodies, those haunted eyes filled with pain and despair.
"What happened then?" Phil whispered.
"A guard caught me." Her eyes blurred with tears. "I was so upset from seeing all the prisoners, and so hungry. I bit him." Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I lost control and killed him."
She glanced at Phil through her tears, expecting to see disgust in his eyes. It wasn't there. This had to be a mistake. He didn't understand the magnitude of her sins. "I had to feed every night. Why torment some poor unsuspecting cow when I could kill a Nazi? And I did. Every night. I joined the underground. I would teleport into a camp, free some prisoners, and kill a Nazi all in a night's work."
Phil said nothing, just watched her intently.
She paced away. Dammit. The coffin was fully open now, and all her terrible sins had crept out. "One night, after I'd killed a guard, a vampire appeared before me. He said he'd been watching me for several weeks. He congratulated me for being a natural born killer. He gave me an ultimatum—join the True Ones or they would kill the leader of the resistance."
"Karl," Phil said softly.
She nodded. "The vampire was Jedrek Janow. He told me about the True Ones, the ones we now call Malcontents. He said they were in league with the Nazis. Once the Germans controlled the world, the True Ones would control the Nazis. I could be a part of it all. I could rule the world."
She rubbed her brow. "All I could think about was my father and brothers who were probably dead from fighting the Nazis. I told Jedrek to go to hell. And that's when he said he would send his personal pets to destroy me." She shuddered. "His wolves."
She paced back to the kitchen. "I ran to Karl to tell him what had happened. Three wolves came that night, and I managed to teleport Karl away. But every month when the moon was full, they would come after us. And there would be more and more of them. Then one night Karl killed one, and it changed into a human."
"And that's when you realized they were werewolves?" Phil asked.
"Yes. Karl bought us some silver bullets."
"Did you ever see the werewolves in human
form?" Phil asked. "Other than the one you killed."
"No."
He nodded. "That explains it, then."
"Explains what?"
"Why you never recognized my scent. Shape shifters don't smell like normal humans. But we only have that unique scent when we're in human form. When we're wolves, we smell like wolves."
She sighed. "You talk about it so matter-of-factly, but you're not getting it. I was terrified. Every month we would find a new place to hide, and the wolves would track us down. They were relentless."
"I saw how frightened you were outside."
"I saw them rip Karl apart! They would have gotten me, too, but I managed to teleport away. And then I was all alone, hiding like a rat in the caves, searching for my father and brothers and never finding them, feeding off Nazis every night. I–I killed so many." She slumped in a kitchen chair and covered her face as tears ran down her cheeks. "I'm a monster."
The room was quiet except for her sniffles. She'd done it. She'd let him see inside her coffin of horrors. Let him see her for what she really was. And now he would look at her differently. Instead of seeing love in his beautiful blue eyes, she would see utter disgust.
"Vanda." He crouched beside her.
She covered her eyes so she couldn't see.
"Vanda, you lived through a hell no person should ever have to endure. You lost your family, your lover, your mortality. In those camps, you witnessed the worst kind of cruelty a human can inflict on another. You lived in constant fear and despair."
She lowered her hands. "I killed them. I didn't have to. I acted just like a Malcontent. I'm no better than they are. I know you hate them. So, I know you'll hate me."
"Come." He took her hand, pulled her to her feet, and led her to the sink. He pumped water onto the kitchen towel. "You were at war, Vanda. War is an ugly monster that forces people to do terrible things they would normally never do."
"It's no excuse."
"Yes, it is." He wrung out the towel. "When you came across those guards in the camps, you were an intruder. They would have killed you if you hadn't killed them first. It was self-defense." With the towel, he wiped the tears from her face.
More tears seeped from her eyes. "You—You can forgive me?"
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