by Karin Tabke
Rafael’s beast clawed and scratched for release. He leashed it. It would do him and Falon no good for him to lose control. One thing at a time.
Rafael strode toward the dais. “It is understood that Talia cannot lead us to a grave so that we can see the dark ashes of the Slayer for ourselves nor bear witness to verify ashes on the sheets. But that does not mean she was not Slayer. It only means I am the sole witness to her identity.”
Maleek nodded. “What proof did you have that she was Slayer?”
“When I walked in on them, her scent was laced with black magic. Black magic she used to blind Lucien to what she was. Lucien’s lust for her shielded what he refused to see. Her stench was thick and cloying, but when he was about to mark her, she showed her true self to me. She taunted me with the fact that Lucien would be sole alpha, and she would reign by his side. Her eyes turned hard and ebony black as a Slayer’s does when impassioned. I did not imagine it. She had intentionally maneuvered Lucien to choose her. Once she conceived, she would populate the pack with Slayers. I could not permit that.” He stepped closer to the council and said, “If given the opportunity to go back and change what I have done, I would not. She was Slayer. I destroyed her as is my birthright. My duty. My only regret is that Lucien has had to endure the pain of her loss all these years, but more than that, he has failed to understand that in the end, there was no other way.”
“Would you swear this on the lives of your pack?” the ancient medicine woman asked.
Rafael turned to her and nodded. “I would swear it on the souls of my parents; it is true. For fear of his own death sentence, Lucien refuses to acknowledge his folly.”
“Not a folly, Brother!” Lucien sneered. “Your jealousy that I was to become sole alpha drove you to the edge. She was no more a Slayer than your chosen one! You killed her for your own gain and no other reason.”
Rafael turned on his brother. “And what, Brother, have I gained? My family spilt in half? The hopes and dreams of our parents cast away like trash because of your hatred for me? The lives lost because of your rogue marauding and pillaging? What did I gain that I have not lost one hundred fold?”
Lucien turned to the council. “How dare you swear on our parents’ lives!” Lucien stormed. “It’s sacrilege. They died so that we could live, and you use them as if they are your personal get out of jail free card.”
“I loved them as much as you, Luca. The day they died is burned in my memory for eternity. If either one of them stood here now, we both know what they would do.”
Lucien strode toward Rafael. “Yes, we would, what they always did, take your side.”
Lucien whirled around and faced the council. “I swear on my pack’s life that my chosen one was human, not a Slayer. She was not perfect, but she was mine. I demand an eye for an eye. I demand my blood right.” He turned and pointed at Falon, who stood silent and proud. “I demand she be given to me so that I can exact my vengeance!”
“Seek your vengeance on my body. I freely give it to you,” Rafael pleaded.
A collective gasp rippled through the room. Falon vehemently shook her head.
“Oh, no, Brother, that would be too easy for you. You will bleed like I bled. I want my due. Now.” Lucien looked back at the council. “I demand it!”
Rafael strode back to Falon and took her hand into his. Their gazes caught and held. He wanted to tell her to be strong. It was not over yet. But he could not. “Falon slew our mortal enemy, Edward Corbet. She saved my life and the lives of my men. Is that how the council treats a hero? Is there no leniency? The Blood Moon will rise in two months’ time. If the council allows Lucien to destroy her, the packs will fall into further disarray.” He turned to his brother, pleading not only for Falon but for their people. “Divided, Lucien, we lose all to the Slayers. United, we have a chance.”
Pack Vulkasin cheered, demanding justice for Rafael. The alphas who came in support of Rafael and Falon joined the chant. Lucien’s mobsters chanted, “Kill, kill, kill.”
Red rage clouded Rafael’s vision. His beast snarled. His body tightened. He fought it, holding tight to the human part of him. If he succumbed to the beast, he would kill Lucien and his minions.
“Silence!” Sharia shouted over the roar, her old voice surprisingly sharp. “How dare you disrespect this council?” Immediately, the voices lowered to irritated mumbles, and the shoving stopped. Rafael struggled for control. Falon squeezed his hand and pressed against him. She stroked his tight jaw. “Rafa, fight the beast. I need you here.”
The beast snarled and backed down but did not leave altogether. Instead, it hunched in Rafael’s gut, waiting to pounce, then kill.
Rafael looked around and saw the desperation on his pack’s faces. He felt their anxiety. They began to move nervously, anticipating the council’s verdict. Desperation was not unique to them only. It tore his guts apart.
Falon’s hands tightly gripped both of his. He looked down into her terrified eyes.
I’m afraid.
He forced a reassuring smile he did not feel. You will not die.
He cleared his throat and carefully extracted his hands from hers. He approached the council for the last time. “I have proven to be a worthy alpha. I have defended the Blood Law, hunted Slayers, conducted myself in the human world as a model citizen. I have not disrespected my heritage or the Lycan nation. Even when my own blood brother has pillaged and plundered what is mine, I have shown tolerance for him, even though I did not have to be so tolerant. While he has spent the last fourteen years giving no thought or preparation for the future of the Lycan nation, I have prepared for years for the rising. I have earned the trust of my pack and the alphas of many other packs.” The alphas seated on either side of the council nodded. His pack behind him nodded. “With all due respect to the council, this tribunal comes down to one answer. Do you believe me when I say I slew a Slayer, or do you believe Lucien that I slew an innocent for my own gain?”
A hush fell over the entire building. Rafael had hit home his point. The scowl on his brother’s face proved it. They had a choice; believe the good son or the prodigal son.
A new hope flared in Rafael’s chest. How could the council choose to believe Lucien over him? Falon squeezed his biceps. He looked down at her and smiled.
He tried to read the council, but every one of them remained stoic.
“Lucien Mondragon, do you have final words on your behalf?” the ancient one asked without leaning back.
Lucien strode arrogantly before the council. “With all due respect to the council, while my brother paints a lovely picture of himself and casts me as the villain of the world, let me remind all of you who it was that brokered the deal for one thousand silver swords to arm all Lycans for the rising. Let me remind you all who it was that funded that buy. Let me remind you that it was me who made sure that the sacred battleground of our forefathers in the North was overlooked for development.” He laughed low, looking at the three elders from the North who could not hide their surprise quick enough. “Yeah, mighty elders from the North, that was me. All me. While I may do business differently then my fair-haired brother, what I do, regardless of method, is for the greater good of the Lycan nation.” Lucien turned and faced Rafael. “Do not ever question my loyalty to my people.”
He strode back to his place, turned with his hands locked behind his back, and faced the council. “I anxiously await your verdict.”
Twenty - four
FALON’S BELLY DROPPED at Lucien’s impassioned words. Not that she felt anything other than contempt for him, but the council had reacted to them favorably, whereas they had not done so with Rafael.
She had wanted to scream at them to do the right thing. To insist that Rafael would not kill his brother’s chosen one as a power play. But she knew if she said anything, she would be revealed for what she was: prejudiced. A woman who did not want to be sentenced to death. A woman in love.
Why couldn’t they all see what she saw? Rafael was not pe
rfect, but she knew he’d believed the woman was a Slayer. Was she? If Rafe believed it, so would she. But would the council?
“The council will retreat for the evening. Return at dawn for our verdict,” Maleek decreed. As the council left single file to the cabins that had been prepared in the back of the compound, Falon put her hand over Rafael’s heart. It thudded powerfully against her palm. He raised her hand to his lips as the pack swelled around them, oddly quiet.
Falon caught Lucien’s gaze across the room. For once, the arrogance was gone. Instead, sadness lingered. It sank in at the moment for Falon that Lucien truly in his heart didn’t believe his chosen one was a Slayer. He’d loved her. He had lost his parents, his friends, and all he had was his brother, and in Lucien’s heart, his brother betrayed him. He still had not come to terms with the pain after all these years.
Do not pity me, corazón. The verdict will play out as it should. Prepare yourself.
She stiffened. Ah, the arrogance was back. I’ll see you in hell first, Luca.
Falon turned her back on the prodigal son to gaze upon the good son. Her mood softened. Rafael had done the right thing for the right reasons, and for his efforts, he was being crucified. She slid her hand into his big warm one and smiled up at him. It was a travesty what happened to the brothers’ parents. They should be there for each other. But from what Falon had witnessed, Rafael had extended the olive branch, and Lucien had refused it.
For there to be such virulent hatred, there had to be great love first. The line between love and hate was razor thin, and just as sharp. Would the split packs ever stop bleeding? Could they?
A deep sadness settled within Falon’s heart. The greatest tragedy of all was the demolition of a great family. A three-hundred-year dynasty had fallen, with no hope of resurrection.
“Rafe,” Anton said, his anger apparent. “Lucien has warped the truth to make himself seem like a misunderstood rebel with a cause.” He spit on the floor.
“Rafe,” Yuri said, “the council sees through Lucien’s schemes. It is common knowledge he is a thug among our people.”
Rafael shook his head. “Lucien’s chosen one was murdered. It’s all he can see.”
“It’s all he wants to see,” Falon muttered.
“It is what it is. I have tried to get through to him, Falon. His anger prevents any chance of healing.”
Rafael stood for nearly an hour as one person after another congratulated him on his speech, voiced their support, then turned around and disparaged Lucien. Despite what was at stake, Rafe had grown weary of Lucien bashing. Maybe he had chosen to see only what he wanted to see in his brother. There was good before. There could be good again.
Falon never once left Rafael’s side. When the pack finally drifted off, he pulled her into his arms and kissed the top of her head.
She lifted her lips to his. “Let’s go for a run.”
“Excellent idea.”
They undressed in their room, shifted, and exited through the open bathroom window to the roof.
Side by side, they ran for hours. For Falon it was cathartic. She knew if the council came back in Lucien’s favor, she would have only one day to kill him if she were to live. He intended to use her first. She would kill him before he laid a hand on her. Her gut told her to do the deed here, before the council, the alphas, and her pack, but Lucien had given her a better idea when he’d said he would take her before he killed her. If she killed him here, there would be witnesses, and she would not get a running head start. In his lair, she would.
She stopped suddenly and shifted. Rafael skidded to a halt and did the same. Naked, they stood facing each other, their chests rising and falling heavily from their exertion.
“If the council rules in Lucien’s favor, I will fight for my life, Rafa. I will have no choice but to kill your brother,” Falon softly said. “Do you believe I can do it?”
Rafael walked toward her. The moon was shrouded behind dark clouds, but there was plenty of light for a wolf. His features reflected his sorrow and his desperation. “He is as strong as me, Falon.”
She crooked a smile, though she did not feel carefree. “Are you insinuating I can’t take you?”
He shrugged as his gaze raked her body. “Let’s find out now,” he slyly said.
“Rafa, listen to me,” she seriously said. “If the council finds in Lucien’s favor, promise me you will not attack him.”
He looked taken aback. “I will not promise that. Though it would tear me up to do it, I will kill him before I allow him to harm you.”
“He has plans for me before he exacts his vengeance.”
Rafael snarled, “I will kill him if he touches a hair on your head.”
She pressed her hand to his chest. His heart beat wildly against her palm. “Listen to me. We must plan now for a future together if we are to have one. If you kill Lucien, I live and you die. If I kill him, we both live.”
“I will not live without you, Falon. I will not let you be his, not even for the time it takes you to kill him.”
“You must. The entire Lycan nation is at stake. Listen to my plan.”
He shook his head, wanting to hear none of it.
“Don’t be obtuse, Rafe! If the council finds in his favor, put up a fight, argue, rant and rail, but allow me to go with him. After he drags me off like a conqueror, I, too, will plead for my life, grovel, cry, act submissive. When we are alone, and he is least suspecting, I will strike! I will send word with Talia. She lied, Rafa. I felt her aura. She’s miserable. With Lucien gone, she will return. As you prepare for the rising, I will lay low. Upon the rising, I will meet you, fight beside you, and when we triumph, we will write a new covenant.”
He shook his head. “No.”
Frustrated, she pounded him hard on the chest. “Your pride refuses to see the reason in my plan. It will work!”
“Too risky.”
She punched him again, this time harder. He grunted, grabbing her fist. She punched him with her free hand. He grasped that one, too, wrapping her arms behind her back. “Do not assault me, Falon. I am your alpha. You will obey me,” he growled low.
She struggled against him. A thin film of perspiration from the run made it hard for him to hold on to her. Her anger mounted. If she had to beat him into submission, she would. She would not allow him to sacrifice his life for hers when he did not have to. That he lacked the confidence in her spurred her on.
“I refuse to allow you to sacrifice your life for mine, when neither of us has to die!” she cried. She twisted out of his grip and darted past him. He grabbed her arm and yanked her back hard against his bare chest. Angry, frustrated, and terrified, she pounded him with her fists, crying, screaming, and begging him not to do it.
He held her tightly in his arms and allowed her to take her fear and frustration out on him.
When she felt his erection against her thigh, she became more infuriated. “Is sex all you want from me? How can you want sex when I’m pleading with you for your life?”
He tried to kiss her, but she bit his lips, drawing blood.
He snarled, real anger. His grip tightened. “You little bitch.” He pushed her down to the ground. Thick, loamy moss buffeted the impact. He dropped down on top of her, grasping her fists when they came flying at him, yanking them over her head.
“How can I think of sex at a time like this?” he hoarsely asked. “Ask me how I cannot breathe.” He nipped a swollen nipple. “How can I think of sex at a time like this? How can I not when you stand before me, angry and desperate to take a chance with your life for my own?” He nipped the other nipple. “How can I not think of sex when your body glows with sweat beneath the moon? So perfect. So damn fuckable.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “How can I not think of sex when I watched you stand proud, regal, and beautiful as my chosen one before my peers and the great council.” His cock thickened against her. He dipped his head and kissed her parted lips, melting into her.
She moaned and arched against
him. He tore his lips from hers. Her musky fragrance scented the air. “By all that is holy, Falon, how can I not want to make love to you when your body calls to mine? How can I not think of making love to you when I see your love for me shine in your eyes? Tell me, how am I not to think of the most sacred act between a man and a woman when I am with you?”
Hot tears burned her eyes. He kissed them away.
“My love, the day I stop thinking of having sex with you is the day you bury me.”
He moved into her then, slowly, reverently, exquisitely. His lips captured hers in a slow, spiraling kiss. Their slick bodies rose and fell in perfect synchronicity. Tears leaked from Falon’s eyes. This could be the last time she felt Rafael inside of her.
Warm lips kissed the moisture from her cheeks. Thick fingers smoothed across her face. “Don’t cry, my love. Trust in me.”
His gentleness was too much. She didn’t want gentle. She wanted rough; she wanted him branded into every inch of her body, a reminder of who she belonged to. Falon snarled. Hatred for Lucien exploded inside of her. How dare he destroy what she held so near and dear to her heart!
“Gentle,” Rafael softly said.
Falon arched into him “I am yours, Rafa! No one can change that!” she cried.
His body tightened; his fingers dug into her hair. He cupped her head with his big hands as his thrusts turned from slow and languorous to deeply urgent. She felt the beast in him roar. He grabbed her hands and raised them above her head. His body drove into hers. His teeth nipped and laved her nipples raw. His fingers dug into her wrists. His body continued to slam into hers. Tears ran down her cheeks. The bittersweet pain of his lovemaking nearly broke her. How could she live without this man?
Her beast snarled. She would not.
This was how she wanted him: fighting mad, passionate. The tension built; her anger, fear, and frustration increased with every thrust. Her beast lunged and scratched for release.
She heard Rafael’s beast snarling for freedom. Her own answered.