Hunting Hearts (Trilogy Bundle) (Werewolf Romance - Paranormal Romance)

by Hart, Melissa F.

  “Please!” she cried, nearly sobbing with desperation. “Please, let me, Mads, please!”

  With a savage growl of victory, he lapped at her clit with a strong and true rhythm that never stopped, that she knew she could depend on, and within seconds, she could feel her orgasm overtaking her body. She shook, certain that this would tear her apart, and her hands tightened on his hair.

  The pleasure was too intense, and when she tipped over the edge, she screamed with it, screamed and kept on screaming as the sensations tore through her. It was like a force of nature that she couldn't control, and while she was still shaking, Mads mounted her, pressing his comforting weight on top of her. Whimpering with relief, she wrapped her arms and legs around him.

  “I love you, I love you, I love you,” she whispered in his ear, and when he spilled deep inside her, he murmured soft and soothing things to her, told her how beautiful she was, how amazing and perfect she was, holding her close.

  When they were both a little recovered, Mads gathered Tara close and pressed an almost chaste kiss to her forehead.

  “I love you,” he said solemnly. “I've felt it for some time now, and... and, Tara, it's the truest part of me. If there is nothing else true about me, there is that, do you understand?”

  She nodded, snuggling down next to his side, but a part of her still wondered. A truth had passed her lips, but it wasn't the one that she had been worried about, and as they drifted off to sleep, she wondered what would become of their truth and their love tomorrow.

  ***

  “The castle has never had a name,” Mads said as they walked out the next morning. “It was built by the first settlers of the land, taken by Vikings and then taken by my people. I've heard stories about it my whole life, but I never thought that it could hold what Three in One said it did.”

  The roads ended with the cabin that they had just left, and now there was a long hike to the castle where Fenrisulfir, the savior of the werewolves, and perhaps the single person who could turn the tide in the war between the werewolves and the fallen angels, had slept for a millennium.

  The book that she was to use, that only she could use, was heavy in a small leather pouch slung over her shoulder, and she nodded.

  “What... what do you think the Fenrisulfir will be like?” she asked, and she saw Mads' back stiffen.

  “Terrible,” he said flatly. “They called him the Wolf That Ate the Sun when he lived, and his powers were so great that they took him for the son of an old god in this part of the world. He was powerful beyond anything we have seen since, and he was feared.”

  “And we are going to wake him up,” Tara mused.

  Mads turned to her sharply. “Are you having doubts now?” he demanded. “After we have come so far?”

  Not about the Fenrisulfir, she thought, even as she shook his head.

  “I believe you and I trust you,” she said softly. “I know that you are doing the right thing for your loved ones, for your people.”

  He was as still as a statue for a long moment, and then he approached her. Sometimes, when they were laughing together in bed or when she was curled up in his lap, it was easy to forget what a big man he was, how large he was and how dangerous. There was a moment of fear in her when he loomed over her, as dark and dangerous as the wolf he could become, and then there was such a softness in his gaze that she felt a part of her melt.

  “You are one of my loved ones now,” he said earnestly. “You are precious to me, more so than my life. Do you understand?”

  She nodded, unwilling to trust words because of the lump in her throat.

  “Do you believe me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, and he dropped a soft kiss to her forehead. There was a great deal of ground to cover, but for a long moment, he simply held her. She wondered if there was something desperate about it, if he was holding on to her so long and so hard for a reason, but then he pulled away and they started walking again.

  The ruins of the castle were dropped low to the ground, with only a single tower still spiking toward the sky. They only approached it as the sun started its drop over the horizon, and Tara shivered.

  “It looks lonely,” she said, gazing over the stones. The dying light turned the stones an unearthly shade of deep orange-red, and the thought of blood and how much the stones had seen spilled echoed in her mind.

  Mads was silent, and as they entered the ruins, a sense of silence fell over both of them. Three in One's directions had told them to look for a door, set flat into the earth, but there was a great deal of ground to cover and the light was fading fast on them.

  Tara knew that with the supplies in Mads' pack that they could make camp if necessary, and that they would neither freeze nor starve, but the idea of spending the night in the ruins of the ancient castle made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up straight.

  Together, they searched the grounds, and it wasn't until all of the light was leached from the sky that they discovered the round door set into a patch of ground at the foot of the tower. It was overgrown with moss and the only way that Tara found it at all was by noticing a patch of ground that was surprisingly smooth and circular. There was a heavy ring that was designed to pull it up, but when she tugged, the door might as well have been made with cement.

  “Will we be able to open it at all?” she wondered, and Mads laughed.

  “This is a test,” he said. “Humans don't have the sheer strength in their arms to budge a door like that, and the angels, well, perhaps they could. It takes a werewolf to do it, and more than that, it takes a werewolf alpha male, do you see? This place is only meant for the strong, and for the pack.”

  “A crane could do it,” she pointed out, and Mads' laugh was slightly rueful.

  “Well, you have to understand that this was the tenth century or earlier,” he said. “We didn't reckon on things like cranes or clever girls with books then.”

  He stripped off his coat, and in the chilling evening air, he reached for the iron ring.

  That was when they heard the flapping of enormous wings and a cry that was half-mewling seagull and half-screaming hawk. Tara felt a shudder of fear race up her spine, and Mads crouched down into a fighting stance, staring at the sky.

  The sky was almost completely dim violet now, but there was still enough light to see three, no, four winged figures circling high above them. Even from the ground where they stood, Tara could see that these were no birds. They could be nothing but the fallen angels that had chased and hunted Mads' people to near extinction, and she knew that if they found her, they would tear her to pieces as well.

  Mads swore, and she saw the ripple of muscle over his shoulders that told her he wanted to be in his wolf form more than anything, where he had power and teeth to spare. Then he glanced at her, glanced at the door, and took a grip on the ring again.

  “I'm going to open this,” he growled. “You're going to go inside. Take the flashlight in my pack, find the tomb. I'll be right behind you.”

  “I can't leave you behind,” she protested, but his answering growl was more animal than human, and she hurried to his pack with shaking hands. His flashlight was a large heavy thing, nearly as long as her forearm and made of steel. It was a comforting weight in her hands, and she gripped it tight.

  The angels were circling closer, and she wondered if they couldn't see them very clearly in the rubble of the castle. If their eyes were only as strong as hers, they might not want to dive blind into the darkness of what could be an ambush. Though it gave her pleasure to think about the idea of a furious Mads tearing into them like a whirlwind, Tara only had a brief moment to think about that before she heard Mads' groan.

  Every muscle on his body stood out in stark relief as he pulled on the ring, and for a very long moment, it looked as if he must fail. The door refused to budge, and she could hear the deep growl from Mads' chest that told her he was pulling with everything he had.

  She was so busy watching him that she failed to see the firs
t angel dive. Before either of them knew it, it was upon them, dropping on them like a bomb with a furious cry.

  Without thinking about it, Tara stepped forward and wildly swung Mads' heavy flashlight at it, and to her shock, she landed a brutal blow to the thing's shoulder that made it squawk like a goose. With an inelegant flop, it was airborne again, gaining altitude with every sweep of its wings, and Tara turned to Mads.

  “Get the door open,” she said as firmly as she could. “I'll keep them off of you.”

  Mads looked like he wanted to protest, but the truth was brutally simple. She couldn't open the door on her own, and he couldn't fight four angels while he was trying to protect her. Their eyes met, and he nodded once, going back to the door with a ferocious look.

  Tara looked back just in time to see another angel take a lunge. This time she was better prepared, and the swing she took at it was powerful and deliberate. The flashlight connected solidly with its body, and though she knew that she had no hope of injuring one in any real way, she could at least fend it off and make it avoid landing long enough to hurt Mads while he was vulnerable.

  She tried to keep an eye on every angel in the sky, but it was difficult. The sole standing tower blocked her view of some of the sky, and with every moment that passed, the sky was getting darker. She flipped on the light so that she could see better, but she knew with a sinking certainty that it only made their location more obvious to the winged terrors that were flying above.

  She thought briefly of the angel that had appeared to her after the trial set before her by the Three in One. She remembered how beautiful his face was, and how perfect his body was. Except for the enormous feathered wings, he was nothing like the scarred wrecks that were coming after them now, and she wondered what had happened to him. She wondered if he had driven away the Three in One, and what he might have done if Mads hadn't been there to drive him off. It was strange, but she had felt no menace from him at all, no threat.

  Another angel dove at her, and this time, a scarred pale arm shot out, and latched firmly around the shaft of the flashlight. Tara screamed and clung to it frantically, and found herself being lifted off the ground. With a desperate cry, she threw herself backwards, freeing herself and sending the angel flying toward the sky again.

  “Don't stop,” she cried to Mads. Without looking, she knew that he wanted to come to her side. “Don't stop, we have to get in there!”

  She stood nervously waiting for the angels, and then, as her stomach dropped to her toes, she saw two of them meet in the air, and then break apart.

  At some signal that she couldn't recognize, they both dove for her and Mads at the same time, and she braced herself. They would strike at once, and she already knew how powerful they were. Some part of her brain screamed at her to run, but she knew if she did, then Mads would be completely unprotected.

  As they dove, there was a sound of rending metal and wood behind her and a clang as stone hit steel. The angels were right on top of her, so close that she could see the terrible scars on their faces, but then she was swept to one side by a fury of growls and snapping teeth.

  Angels were met with the might of an alpha wolf, and Mads' mass hit them both with equal force, She could see her lover battle for their throats, to rip and to rend. The angels expected a human woman with a flashlight, and instead, they had a full-grown adult wolf who was tried in the ways of battle with their kind.

  The angels rolled back from him and gained the sky again, but there was no doubt in Tara's mind that they would be back in a matter of heartbeats.

  “Mads...”

  With a deep growl, he pushed her toward the open door with his bulk, and she tried to protest.

  “Not without you,” she argued. “Come with me, we'll close the door behind us.”

  Then she saw the door and realized that it was impossible. The door would be just as difficult to close as it was to open, and while they were closing it, the angels would take them both.

  “Please,” she said, tears in her eyes, but Mads was implacable. He bared his teeth and when she would have clung to his fur, he snapped them inches from her fingers.

  She knew he would never hurt her, but she understood. Right now, he needed her to obey, and she approached the hole.

  With a deep breath, she tucked the flashlight under her arm and reached for the steel rungs pounded into the stone walls. They were freezing cold under her bare fingers, but they would not pull away, and she began her descent into the earth.

  Above her, she could hear the deep howls of Mads and the scream of the angels that were attacking him, and she descended faster. Now she had seen the fury of the war he fought, and how relentless the angels were. The idea of those angels attacking children made her blood boil, and she knew she had to do everything she could.

  She went deeper and deeper and the sounds of battle above her faded. Her stomach churned, thinking about Mads fighting alone, but she knew that the best thing that she could for him would be to get him the help he needed.

  Her fingers shook, and her exhaustion from the hike of the day caught up with her, and slowly, she could feel her whole body shake with the tension of being on the ladder. She had no idea how deep the hole was, and once her foot slipped, making her yelp. She miraculously did not lose the flashlight, but it was a near thing, and she kept herself still so that she could breathe deeply for several long moments.

  Her searching foot hit the ground, and now the only light was from her flashlight. It shone bright and steady, and far above her, she could just barely make out the tiny circle of indigo light where Mads was.

  Tara shone the flashlight around, and now she could see that she was in a small stone chamber. It was perfectly round, and to one side, she could see a deep tunnel that sloped even further into the earth. Taking a deep breath, and letting the flashlight light the way, she started walking. The darkness of the tunnel was absolute; every part that was not lit by the flashlight was a blackness so deep it threatened to suffocate her.

  As she swept the light in front of her, she caught sign of small figures incised on the stone, and she took a moment to glance at them. They were werewolves, she saw very quickly. They were simple figures, little more than stick men, and they showed men who crouched to rise as wolves, and how they were chased by people with wings. The struggle between the werewolves and the angels had gone on longer than any human born, and she shuddered to think of what it might mean to be born to such a fate, to have a war like that written into your bones.

  She knew that she had not walked for long, but it still felt like it had been forever when the tunnel came to an end. Here the air was musty and stale, and she knew that there was death here. It was in the stillness of the air, and the deep quiet of the chamber.

  In front of her, she could see a stone crypt, and when she approached, she saw runes inscribed on the top. Norse runes were not her area, but she knew enough to puzzle out the meaning.

  “Here rests the heart of Fenrisulfir. May he be forgiven,” she read. It seemed like a strange inscription to give a fallen hero, but she remembered the dark look that Mads had worn when they spoke about his people's history. Dark times made for uneasy heroes, and she could understand that.

  The stone crypt itself was as solid as a piece of stone, and when she knocked on it, there was no echo at all.

  Her heart beating hard in her chest, she pulled out the book that had started her on this quest, the one that had brought Mads into her life. Once or twice over the last few weeks, she had wondered if she would have left it in the used bookshop where she had found it if she had known what it meant, and always the answer had been never.

  She found the page, the one for the release of things bound, and though her voice was harsh and thready at first, gradually she gained confidence. The words were twisted and strange, and she knew that there were people who believed that the language she now spoke was older than Latin, older than the earliest Chinese or Korean characters.

  Tara spoke the t
wisting syllables, and even as the air woke up around her and electricity started to prickle on her skin, she didn't stop. There was power here, and now she realized that it all belonged to her. Like Mads had teeth and strength, she had this. This was her, and she knew that even as she and Mads changed the world, this would change her.

  Tara chanted softly, and the words appeared in gold in the air around her. They twisted and spun around the sarcophagus, embracing it, binding it, and she saw hairline cracks in the stone that had been invisible before.

  Her chanting grew louder and louder, and she felt the power rush through her. There was nothing that she could not do, nothing that was impossible for her, and she uttered the last few words with a savage cry of joy.

  The golden light intensified and disappeared, and for a moment she thought she had failed. Then she realized that the gold light had only traveled to the heart of the crypt, and slowly it began to glow again.

  The stone shook, growled as deep as Mads did in his fury, and then it crumbled to the ground, pieces falling off. It was slow at first, but then with a deep groan, the stone shattered entirely

  When the last part of the stone fell, she heard a shout behind her, and then a scream. With horror, she realized that the angels had followed Mads into the ground with her, and now Mads, human and running, burst into the chamber, pursued by three furious angels.

  By the light of the flashlight, she could see their scarred faces, that Mads was injured, and that she had failed.

  There was no hero lying in the rubble, nothing but power spent for no cause, and sacrifice that had led her and Mads to die in the ground.

  Despite that, Mads' never faltered, and instead of being dismayed, he dove for the rubble. She gasped, certain that the angels would tear him to pieces, but when he came up, it was with a blade in his hands.