Blood Law

by Karin Tabke

  He smiled that wicked smile of his. “You will come,” he softly said, the double entendre clear to her.

  Falon thrust her hands at him and watched in fascination and triumph as he went flying backward across the threshold, landing on the slick wood floor beyond. She strode toward where he lay stunned and furious. He had the good sense not to attempt to rise. “As I live and breathe, I will never come to you!” She thrust her hands at him again, and his body shot farther along the hardwood. She continued toward him, determined to kick him out of her home.

  She raised her hands again and, just as she was about to give him another shot of whatever it was she had, he shifted into the big bad black snarling wolf that nightmares were made of. Falon didn’t give it a second thought—she shifted as well. The hair along her back stood straight up. Snarling rage tore through her.

  He snarled and hunched, about to leap. She hunched to meet him in midair. Then an amazing thing happened. The females behind her shifted, snarling and growling. They leapt over her, landing solidly between her and Lucien, forming a Lycan wall around her.

  Lucien snarled and snapped his jaws, frustrated by the females’ audacity to challenge him. Another deadly but familiar snarl erupted from behind Lucien. Rafael leapt across the room, slamming into his brother. Black and gold fur blurred as the wolves fought. Their big bodies rolled into furniture, slammed into walls, shattered glass and mirrors.

  They were evenly matched.

  When one got the upper hand, the other countered. Falon shifted back into her human form, quickly dressed, and followed the brothers out into the yard. Blood slicked the wood floors. Panic ripped through her. They would kill each other! She ran to the edge of the porch where the wolves viciously tore into each other. As she had moments ago, Falon focused her energy on them. She raised her hands and, just as she had done to Lucien, she propelled both of them backward. They separated at her forceful shove, their bodies tumbling in the dirt. Instantly, both were on all fours, lunging at each other again.

  “Stop!” Falon shouted. She rushed forward. “Stop!” she screamed. She jumped toward them, shifting in midair. Sharp fangs sank into her back and her chest. She howled in pain and then . . . It was over.

  Still in wolf form, Rafael stood stunned and protective over her. The women gathered around her, as well. Beside them, the men of the pack had arrived, forging a wall to keep Lucien at bay.

  Falon lay in the dirt, breathing hard. Bleeding hard. She was sure she’d heard a bone or two snap earlier, but the pain from the bites was bearable, and she would do it again.

  At least the fighting had stopped.

  Not sure if she would be better off as a wolf or a human, Falon shifted. Rafael snarled and turned to lunge at Lucien, who stood oddly silent except for his heavy breathing behind the gauntlet of men. Falon reached out and grabbed Rafael’s leg, “Rafa, I’m okay. Let him go. Please.”

  Rafael snarled but turned his attention to her. He licked her face and the two deep fang marks that punctured her skin just above her right breast. He snarled as he licked. She understood.

  Go, Lucien, go before more Lycans die.

  But he was already gone.

  The women carefully gathered her up and gently carried her to her and Rafael’s room. They tried to minister to her, but Rafael growled them out of the room. When the door closed behind them, a hot wave of emotion rushed Falon. Yes, she was glad Rafael was alive, and glad she was no worse for the wear, but what touched her more than all of that combined was how the females of the pack had come together to protect her, when she should have been the one to protect them! She knew they were terrified of Lucien, yet each one had risked her own life to protect Falon’s.

  Rafael nudged her back onto the bed. She was naked and bleeding. He licked her chest, his tongue warm and soothing, and in time the pain lessened and the wound healed. But she was still bleeding. She rolled over onto her belly, exposing her back and the bites there.

  Rafael snarled and whined, then snarled again. He was furious. Furious because of the wounds, yes, but more furious with himself. When she’d jumped between the brothers, she’d been bitten by both of them. Rafael just realized that.

  “It’s okay, my love,” she soothed, stroking his neck. “You didn’t know.”

  As he had before, he licked her wounds, ever so gentle, ever so loving. Ever so sorry.

  In less than an hour, Falon had healed enough to shower, dress, and return downstairs, this time with Rafael by her side. She was greeted as a hero and with much fussing over by the women. Even Lana asked if there was anything she could do for her.

  Falon fought back tears and thanked each female and male. They seemed humbled by her heartfelt thanks. Her heart swelled with pride as she looked around at the pack. They had accepted her and would fight for her. She was one of them and was proud to be their alpha.

  She stood in the middle of the great room that had been a shambles just an hour before. Now it gleamed with polish and shine. The debris had been removed and, with some of the furniture gone, it opened the room up nicely.

  “That was some spring clean,” Galiya said as she approached with a tray of food. “Your breakfast got cold, Falon, but here’s your lunch. Eat all of it. You will need your strength.”

  They all would.

  Pack leaders arrived as the afternoon sun set. Falon greeted each one of them with Rafael by her side. There were eight in all, but there were others who would travel from all corners of the world with their packs for the Blood Moon rising.

  An hour before dusk, the alphas were situated and the compound ready for the historic council meeting. Falon knew Lucien would return, arrogant and defiant and absolute in his belief that he had the right to take her life. Falon shivered, not afraid of death but of not living with the man she loved.

  Rafael gently took her hand in his jaws and tugged her toward their room. Falon smiled, knowing what he wanted. She wanted it, too; she had been waiting for him all day.

  Twenty - three

  RAFAEL SHIFTED AS they hurried up the stairway. Falon gasped at the vicious gouges in his back, arms, and chest. The flesh was torn, the wounds raw. “Rafa, you’re wounded!”

  “I’m fine,” he said pulling her toward the bedroom. He lifted her into his arms and ran the rest of the way, kicking open the door, then slamming it shut with his foot. He leapt onto the bed with her in his arms. His lips captured hers, silencing her protests.

  Was he crazy? He was wounded and bleeding, and he thought they . . .

  She struggled, determined to heal him. He was just as determined to rid her of her clothes. Impatient, he ripped them from her body. His lips captured hers in a deep, desperate, never-ending kiss.

  “Ahhhh.” Arching into him, Falon surrendered. His fingers dug into her hair, his long, hard body pressed hotly against hers. Falon wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her body firmly against his, wanting to touch every inch of him, never wanting to part.

  He tore his lips from hers. Holding her head in his hands, he stared deeply into her eyes. Emotion clogged her chest. She saw into his soul. She felt his desperation, his heartache, and even his fear of losing her. “Rafe,” she cried, “We will be together, I swear it.”

  His face softened. “I love you, Falon. You are the other half of my heart, my soul, my life.”

  She lifted her lips up to his. “As you are mine,” she whispered.

  He took her then, in a slow, deep slide. She met him, liquefying as emotion overwhelmed her. They clung to each other, their hips moving in slow, agonizing rhythm, desperately holding on, prolonging the inevitable, wanting just one more minute, one more second, one more heartbeat.

  One more breath.

  The kiss that began their union ended only when the final wild rush of sensation claimed them both. It was a poignant explosion that ebbed right along with their heartbeats and finally their breaths.

  For a long time, they lay connected, man to woman, alpha to alpha, heart to heart, soul to sou
l. Neither wanted to face the gathering below, but they knew they had no choice. It was who they were, what they chose, how they would live.

  Lycan.

  “Falon,” Rafael hoarsely said as he caressed her cheek with his fingertips, “I will protect you; I swear it.”

  She smiled and kissed his fingertips. “As I will protect you.”

  He smiled, but it tore her up inside to see the moisture gather in his eyes. “Spoken like a true alpha.”

  MOMENTS LATER, HAND in hand, they descended the stairway into a time and place that would irrevocably change their lives forever.

  The tension was thick; anxious scents clogged the air. The council was seated in a semicircle. Each of them was dressed in the traditional white-fringed leather of the Great Spirit Mother, Singarti. Sharia, Daniel, and Maleek, he knew. The three others he did not recognize but knew they were from the great white North. He recognized their authority by the eagle feathers woven into their gray hair. The one closest to Maleek was an ancient, shrunken man who was hunched so far over he had to sit back to gaze upon the gathered. The one next to him was an old medicine woman. He knew this by the beads and fur pouches filled with herbs that hung from her sealskin belt. The man beside her was younger, as was Daniel; his long black braid hung down the front of his right shoulder.

  Eight alphas sat in support of Rafe. Four to each side of the council.

  As Rafael and Falon entered the room, bodies parted, allowing them to pass. Rafael sniffed the air.

  His anger flared. Lucien.

  He looked across the room to see him standing arrogantly to the side with his own supporters. Rebel alphas Lucien had lured to the dark side. Where was Talia? He needed her to support his case. His heart pounded against his chest when he could not locate her or pick up her familiar scent.

  Lucien would dare defy the council’s demand? How could he have a fair tribunal if she could not verify the violence of that day and hopefully give them a clue to the Slayer’s ashes? He tamped down his temper. He refocused on what he had control of, and that was the truth.

  As they approached the dais the council sat upon, Anton took up his position to Rafael’s right and Glenna, his mate, took her position on Falon’s left.

  “My thanks to the council for agreeing to this meeting.” Rafael’s deep voice reverberated across the beams. Sharia, Daniel, and Maleek nodded, but the other three sat stoically staring at him.

  “Do you agree to abide by the council’s verdict?” the hunched ancient demanded, his voice clear and deep for one so old.

  Rafael squeezed Falon’s hand. She clutched his. “I do.”

  The old man turned in his chair and sat back to regard Lucien. “Do you agree to abide by the council’s verdict?”

  Lucien stepped forward, his eyes locked on Falon. Rafael’s beast inside roared furiously at his brother’s arrogance. “I do,” he clearly said.

  “Then let us proceed.” The ancient sat back and calmly regarded the floor.

  Maleek stood and read from an old leather scroll. “The Blood Law is the ancient law of the Lycans. The founding Lycan fathers swore to uphold its commandments. They are never to be challenged, changed, or ignored. The first Blood Law decrees it high treason, punishable by death, for a Lycan to lie with a Slayer. The second law decrees, when a Lycan steals, slays, damages, or destroys another Lycan’s property or person, the victim of such acts has the right to demand an eye for an eye. If the victim is unable to demand justice due to death, his or her next of kin has that right.” Maleek lowered the scroll and looked at Rafael. “Rafael Vulkasin, you slew the chosen one of an alpha. As the Blood Law is written, in keeping with the code of an eye for an eye, the offended has the right to the same. Do you dare challenge the Blood Law on this account?”

  Rafael let go of Falon’s hand and stepped forward. “I do not challenge the Blood Law , but I disavow my brother’s claim of my chosen one on the grounds that his chosen one was in fact a Slayer. It was only because of my duty to uphold the Blood Law that I slayed her.”

  Maleek looked stone-faced at Rafael. Did he still believe Lucien had the right to Falon?

  “She was a Slayer!” Rafael roared. “Lucien broke the first law of our people. It is he who should be punished, not I.”

  “She was not!” Lucien growled stepping toward the council.

  “Silence!” Maleek commanded, staring down Lucien. “You will have your chance to speak.”

  Lucien cast a sneer at Maleek. It did not go unnoticed by the councilman. His eyes narrowed at the insult.

  “Can you prove she was a Slayer?” Maleek asked, turning back to Rafael.

  “Talia was the only one who was in the room after I slew her. She can attest to the condition of the room. She can also attest to the woman’s behavior before her death. It was Talia who called me from my spirit journey because she was afraid of the unnatural hold the woman had on Lucien. ”

  “Did you not investigate immediately after?” Maleek asked, surprised.

  Rafael shook his head. He was still kicking himself all of these years later. “All hell broke loose after that. I was more concerned about holding my pack together. By the time I gave it thought, it was too late.”

  “But now that you do not wish to sacrifice your own chosen one, you decided to consider what you should have considered years ago?”

  “In truth, Maleek, I had nothing to fight for.” He looked back at Falon and smiled. His heart briefly stuttered to a stop. Pride swelled in his chest. She stood proud, the regal epitome of an alpha female. He turned back to the council. “I do now. I come to the council with the truth and ask only for the Blood Law to be upheld.”

  Maleek looked at Lucien. “Produce Talia.”

  Lucien turned and pulled the small healer from the group of defiant alphas surrounding him. Rafael’s heart soared. Talia! She caught his gaze but did not return his smile. Her petite frame was rail thin and her dark eyes were sunken deep into her skull. Rafael swore but checked his temper. Lucien had so much to pay for. He would gladly give him his due.

  Rafael did not miss the angry glances from his pack, as well as several of the alphas who knew and loved Talia as he did. It was apparent she had been neglected. Abused. The council had failed him when he’d demanded they force her release, as well as when Lucien refused to attend the meeting. That he was here today to claim Falon told Rafael he felt confident he would be victorious.

  It would not happen.

  “Talia Vulkasin, did you witness the death of Lucien’s chosen one?” Maleek asked when she stood before them

  “No,” she softly said.

  “Were there any indicators up to the time or after her death that she was Slayer?”

  “She—” Talia glanced at Lucien, then said, “No.”

  Rafael steamed. She was lying!

  “When you came upon the brothers at death’s door, did you see the body?”

  “Yes.”

  “What was its condition?”

  “Bloody, lifeless. I only glimpsed it. I was too focused on Rafael and Lucien.”

  “After the brothers were revived, did you see the body?”

  “No.”

  “Had it disappeared?”

  “I—I don’t know. I was tending to Rafe and Lucien, who were ready to kill each other again. There was so much commotion afterwards.”

  “Were there ashes where the body had lain?”

  “I don’t know. There was a fire the next morning. The entire suite burned up.”

  The fire had been deliberately set. Rafael had always thought it was Lucien bent on revenge, but could it have been to hide the evidence of the Slayer’s ashes?

  “My pardon, Maleek,” Rafael said.

  The man scowled, not liking the interruption. He nodded.

  “A question of my brother if he will give his word to answer truthfully.”

  The ancient elder leaned back and shot a glare to Lucien. “There will be nothing but the truth spoken here this night!” he roughly s
aid.

  “What answer do you seek, Rafael?” Lucien laconically asked.

  “Did you set the fire that morning?”

  Lucien’s eyes narrowed. “Would that I could claim responsibility, I would.” Of course he would. After that night Lucien had done everything in his power to destroy all that was Vulkasin.

  “I take it that’s a no?” Rafe asked.

  “I did not set the fire.”

  “Do you have knowledge of who did?”

  “Do you mean, did I order it set?”

  “There is no room here for semantics. Were you, in any way, shape, or form, responsible for the fire?”

  “No.”

  Oddly, Rafe believed him. So, who had set it, and why? To cover something up.

  Rafael looked back to the council. “There has never been any doubt that the fire was deliberately set. We could smell the gasoline used as the accelerant. All other scents were drowned out by the smoke. With the pack separated and fighting at the time, there could be only one reason for the fire. To hide a Slayer’s ashes.”

  “So you claim,” Lucien sneered.

  Maleek shot him a sharp glare then looked at Rafael. “Do you have any further questions for Talia?”

  “I do,” Rafael said. He walked up behind her. When she refused to turn, he knew why. Lucien had broken her. He gently touched her shoulder. She flinched. “It’s me, Tal. I won’t hurt you.” He turned her to face him, and his heart broke for her. Her big brown eyes shimmered with unshed tears. Rafe cast his compassion aside.

  He glared up at the council. “How can you ask me to accept your verdict when you cannot enforce the release of one taken against her will?” He looked down at Talia. “But you’re home now.”

  “Her home is with pack Mondragon,” Lucien said, striding toward them.

  Talia stiffened and looked up at Rafael, her face impassive. “I have been free to return here. I chose not to.”

  He didn’t believe her! Rafael’s hand fell to his side. “You don’t have to lie. Talia, you’re safe here.”

  She shook her head and strode back to where Lucien stood, then turned to face Rafael. “I choose Mondragon.”