Transient Moon

by Kos, Gaja J. ;

  “I didn’t—”

  “I’m glad you came,” I cut in, meaning every word. “Walk with me?”

  Linus nodded and fell in step as I strode over to the dimly lit storage area where the beat of music wasn’t quite as loud. Neither of us said anything as I liberated a keg of Paulaner from the corner, but he did grab hold of one of the handles while I hooked my fingers around the other.

  When we started to make our way back to the hall, I swept my gaze across his stoic profile. “Linus, I was thinking… If you’re free on Monday, maybe you could swing by my office?”

  His grip on the keg faltered, and I let out an oomph as I fought to balance the damned thing myself. With a wince, Linus hurried to help me, and once we were back in stride, cast a grateful glance my way.

  “You were an asshole,” I said as we positioned the barrel behind the self-serve counter, “but you know the game. I had a lot of time to think this through, and while I still want to beat your face into a bloody pulp for taking Nill, I have to admit you were right. You have a lot you can give. And I think the Zentrum would be lucky to have you on board as a coach.”

  Linus started towards me, then hesitated. I rolled my eyes and stretched out my arms, giving him a pointed look to just get on with it. This was a night for hugs, after all.

  “Thanks, Lotte,” he whispered once we were standing apart once more. “I…” He sucked in a breath, the contours of his face softening, turning almost vulnerable.

  But whatever he wanted to say never made it past his lips.

  Five

  Among the shouts rising from the entrance, someone bellowed Jaxon’s name.

  Linus and I exchanged a fleeting look, words redundant as we both sprang into action. We pushed through the crowd, aiming for the epicenter of the commotion to see who the fuck had decided to crash my party. I shouldered past Tristan, one of the Zentrum kids, then Erik and Annika, the kick-ass doubles team and my old friends on and off the court alike, who parted like water to let me through.

  Up ahead, a muscular, visibly intoxicated guy—werewolf, by the scent of him—kept calling out for Jaxon, his unfocused gaze scanning the guests with no small amount of hostility.

  Just as I inched forward, Linus mimicking my advance on the right, Jaxon roared, “What the fuck are you doing here, Aaron?”

  My mind needed a few seconds to realize why the name sounded familiar.

  Alec had mentioned it during one of our recent calls. Jaxon’s ex.

  The one who followed him here all the way from Australia because he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  Aaron whirled around at the sound of Jaxon’s voice, his mouth twisted in a sneer. He took a step towards the perpetually suntanned blond vampire, but his next was met by a firm hand on his chest.

  Mine.

  “Sorry, buddy, private party,” I said with false sweetness.

  The werewolf gave me a disgusted glance then made to shove me away, but I was faster. Not that it was hard given he’d obviously drunk enough to outdo even our fast metabolism.

  Though the fucker was strong.

  My muscles strained as I yanked his hand and twisted his arm behind his back, applying just enough pressure to cause a nice little fracture should he get the bright idea to struggle. To prove my point, I added just a touch more strain, coaxing a repetitive string of curses to spill from his lips.

  But on the wings of his painfully lacking vocabulary came something else, too.

  Defeat.

  Without another word, I propelled the asshole towards the door, then all but threw him on the cold ground the instant we cleared the entrance. Aaron caught himself on his palms—barely—then staggered back up.

  A faint tingle of blood permeated the air in the second it took the small lacerations on his hands to close.

  He shot me what was probably supposed to be a vicious look, but I just snorted and punched him hard in the side of his face. Nothing he wouldn’t recover from, although he’d have a sweet, lingering bruise to remind him not to come near this place again.

  “Get the fuck off my property, jackass,” I snarled. “And if I catch you coming near Jaxon again, I swear to all the gods I’ll hang you by the balls from the umpire chair.”

  “Bitch,” he snapped but made his retreat.

  Wise move.

  I watched him go, making sure he cleared the compound perimeter before I turned my back to him. Only to find out I’d gathered an audience.

  Morozov, Greta, and Linus seemed just about ready to burst into a sprint after the goon and throw in a few punches of their own, while Jaxon struck me as a man who was hardly breathing, his usually warm and welcoming face pinched, closed off like I’d never seen him before. But Afanasiy…

  I couldn’t hold back a smile.

  My demon irradiated pride. And teetered on the verge of taking me right here, right now.

  Fighting the urge to act on his silent offer, I walked back towards the group with a steady stride. Alec whistled when the crowd parted to let me through, then placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “Remind me never to mess with you. Ever.”

  I flashed him a grateful look, then glanced at Jaxon who kept away from the rest of us as if the shadows by the wall could swallow him up. “Will he be fine?”

  Something akin to pain rolled across Alec’s face but was gone before I could place it. “I’ll talk to him. But thanks for the intervention. I don’t think Aaron will come near him anytime soon.” He shook his head. “Damn, I always knew you could handle yourself, Lotte, but ICRA made you fucking tough.”

  I shrugged. “If it helps kicking out pissed off exes, then at least those three months weren’t a complete waste of time.”

  The stirrings of a moan lifted me from the depths of a calm, dreamless sleep.

  For a moment, my world consisted only of the brush of fingers between my thighs, the heat that spread from my core—then reality crept into focus as languidly as the flimsy early morning mist rolling through the streets.

  I smiled and arched my back, offering myself to Afanasiy.

  His low chuckle rolled across my skin, followed by his lips that drew a path from my neck down to the curve of my shoulder. I shivered at the sheer force of desire embedded in his light caress and tucked myself even closer to him. The hardness of his erection pressed against my ass.

  “Morning, kāros,” he whispered and slipped two fingers inside me.

  I gasped, grinding against his hand. The tenderness turned into a heated exploration, a hunger I not only felt through the peculiar awareness of him that had grown stronger over the past months but harbored myself.

  “Please,” I begged.

  With another chuckle, this one raspier than before, Afanasiy grabbed me by my hips and thrust inside me.

  My fingers tore at the bed lining as the width of his cock spread my folds, then filled me. Moans spilled from my lips in a cascade, only fueling Afanasiy’s desire. He snaked a hand around my waist to pin me to his hard torso and ravished me with deep thrusts that all but threw me into the throes of an orgasm. But before I came, Afanasiy angled me slightly away—a move that granted even greater access.

  Fuck.

  Every muscle in my body quivered as he built up the rhythm. The tightness within me pulsed, my screams muffled by the pillow I’d buried my head into. Flushed and writhing, I teetered on the edge—just to be brought back again.

  Afanasiy pulled out of me, and I yelped as he spun me on my back, exercising every ounce of his delicious demonic speed and strength.

  His honed body on display in the first rays of sunlight that spilled through the window, he spread my legs wide and knelt between them. By the gods, he was handsome.

  His black hair was draped over one muscular shoulder, those violet eyes devouring me as I lay naked before him. I trailed my gaze down his chest and across his abdomen, all the way to the thick length of his erection.

  I glanced back up and half lifted myself off the mattress to drag my fingern
ails up the hard column of his thighs before guiding a single finger down the side of his cock.

  An utterly male smile materialized on his sensual lips as that finger was joined by another, the connection between our gazes never breaking. I teased him even as my own need became almost unbearably painful, drank in those small changes that appeared on the chiseled planes of his face. My nipples tightened with each groan that rumbled in his chest, breaths deepening as I felt him grow larger, harder in my hand.

  There was something about seeing how he reacted to me that went beyond mere satisfaction.

  My own arousal wetted the apex of my thighs, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

  But luckily, neither could Afanasiy.

  With a sound caught somewhere between an exhale and a growl, he pushed me down and sheathed himself inside me. My world fractured in tune with his moves, reality making its retreat so that nothing remained but us—the press of our bodies, the desire curving between our very souls.

  A deep sense of rightness and fulfillment spread through me. The mating bond, wishing to be acknowledged.

  But it was Afanasiy who subdued the urge, thrusting into me faster and harder until we both came, holding on to one another, his body blanketing mine.

  I had no idea how long we remained like that, sweaty and entwined, but eventually, Afanasiy rolled off me, though he didn’t relinquish the intimacy of skin-on-skin contact entirely. I let out a husky laugh and briefly claimed his lips, morning breath be damned.

  “I could get used to waking up like this, you know,” I purred. “Definitely gives mornings a whole new appeal.”

  Afanasiy smiled, and I could have sworn something inside me melted at the sight. “The morning isn’t over yet.”

  I arched an eyebrow in question. He couldn’t be serious about going another round. Not that I didn’t want to, but I really would rather not be late for my meeting at ICRA. After all, I promised—or rather threatened—Selma and Rihard I’d check up on them today. And I couldn’t do that until I crossed off my appointment with Senior Agent Ulrich.

  A part of me, however, yearned for nothing more than to enjoy the pleasures of Afanasiy’s company and body alike.

  The sex incarnate demon laughed as I groaned, then brushed a strand of hair behind my ear. “I meant breakfast, kāros. I’m making it while you go shower.”

  “How are you even real?” I muttered—much to his delight, given the mirth that crinkled the corners of his violet eyes.

  “I often ask myself the same about you.”

  As I waited for the water to heat and old doubts crept back, fed by the temporary isolation, I wished I’d get a reprieve at least once instead of going through the same bloody circle time and time again.

  I dipped my toes in the cool current and sighed.

  Fucking commitment issues.

  I stuck more of my leg under the spray, focusing on the gradual change of the water’s temperature, but couldn’t stop the thoughts invading my head.

  Whenever I was near Afanasiy, especially in bed, it seemed silly to shy away from our bond. I loved him, more than I thought possible to ever love a person, and I had no difficulties imagining spending the rest of my life with him. The bond felt natural in that regard. Something that wouldn’t burden us, but allow our relationship to grow—gift us even more comfort and security.

  But whenever I went away—even if just to shower—the thought of binding myself to him stirred that well-known, unwelcome fear I just couldn’t shake. Was I really ready for such a commitment?

  After all, this bond was an ancient force I was completely unfamiliar with. Werewolves had mates, yes, but our way didn’t come even close to comparing to the demonic tradition. There were no compatible energies involved. No pull beyond that of a person you were attracted to.

  If anything, werewolf mates were similar to human spouses, though with a nearly nonexistent divorce rate.

  I closed my eyes and let the warm spray fall on my body, relieving some of the tension.

  But not all.

  I was mortal. Afanasiy was not. That right there was a problem I couldn’t think my way out of regardless of how hard I tried.

  If I said yes to the mating bond, what would happen to him when I died?

  The responsible, adult thing to do would probably be to have an honest conversation, but for the life of me, I couldn’t bring myself to initiate that talk. Not when it felt like a step closer to actually giving my final answer.

  Groaning, I scrubbed myself down then turned off the water. I’d had the same debate with myself so often I knew every word by heart—because nothing ever changed. Not a single fucking argument.

  I shook my head, toweled down, and got dressed. Business casual, which meant fleece-lined leggings and a crisp black sweatshirt with silver embellishments that hit me mid-thigh.

  Afanasiy was waiting for me in the kitchen when I emerged, breakfast already laid out on the small table tucked in one corner. I sucked in the delicious smell of pancakes and coffee, momentarily forgetting about everything else but the light rumble in my stomach.

  Only the slight tingle in the atmosphere hinted I hadn’t been the only one tackling an inner debate.

  For better or for worse, Afanasiy and I were two peas in a bloody messed-up pod.

  Six

  I smeared some blueberry marmalade across the pancake and rolled it up, wishing I could do the same with my problems.

  Afanasiy’s gaze burned against my skin, though I gave him credit for at least trying not to crowd me.

  “Lotte,” he started carefully and balanced his knife on the edge of the plate, “there’s something I want to ask you.”

  “Hm?” I mumbled around the food I stuffed in my mouth, but couldn’t bring myself to meet his gaze.

  “I know you already agreed to go on a date…”

  My head whipped up. That was not the opening line I’d been expecting given the ominous electricity in the room. Maybe my paranoia played a larger role than I gave it credit for.

  “But”—he sucked in a breath—“there’s something else, too. You had to go into quarantine before I could properly court you. I would very much like to do that now, if you agree.”

  I nearly choked on my pancake. Court me. Sometimes, I still forgot Afanasiy came from another time.

  Another world, actually.

  “That would be lovely, Afanasiy.” I smiled sincerely. And damn adorable, too. “But you do know that I’m already yours, right?”

  A brief flash of surprise flamed to life in his gaze, but he didn’t reply. I downed another bite of pancake with my coffee.

  “I might not have accepted the bond,” I clarified as I set the mug back down, “but I haven’t been with anyone else since Ljubljana. Didn’t even want to. Just you, Afanasiy.”

  I recalled that almost-kiss with Alec, how I recoiled from something that had become kind of second nature over the years. But most of all, I remembered that it felt right, too. Not giving myself to anyone else but the demon who had become my kāros. Beloved.

  I’d always been monogamous by heart when it came to actual relationships, and that little incident convinced me more than anything else just what Afanasiy meant to me. I really just needed to stop being so fucking terrified to accept it.

  “I haven’t been with anyone, either,” he said quietly, a flush tainting his sculpted cheeks.

  Somehow, him sleeping around was a thought that had never even crossed my mind.

  A brief surge of jealousy rushed through me at the idea that he could, but was quickly replaced by deep-set satisfaction when I reminded myself that he hadn’t.

  Afanasiy was mine.

  “So,” I purred, my lips quirking up. “Is it proper to call an ages-old demon my boyfriend?”

  He laughed, the sound deep and melodic, but carried a hopeful lightness that made my heart swell. “I admit I have never carried the title before. But for you, kāros, it would be an honor.”

  Unable to hold
back my grin, I reached over and snatched his hand in mine. “Blade of Raya. Boyfriend of Lotte.”

  Mate.

  Though I kept that last one to myself. For now.

  Afanasiy’s thumb drew gentle circles across my skin, the touch alone enough to send that familiar warmth uncurling in my core. Unfortunately, I had an ICRA agent to meet.

  “We’ll talk more when I get back, right?”

  He nodded—but the simmer in his eyes suggested that particular talk just might leave me without my clothes. Not that I minded.

  While I seriously missed my Vulcan, I had to admit driving back to the ICRA facility in Fürstenfeldbruck on my own, even if in one of the Zentrum’s borrowed cars, was a treat. The last time I had entered and left its gates, I was secreted away in one of those sleek ICRA vehicles where the back doors couldn’t be opened from the inside.

  Needless to say, the experience was far from excellent for my morale.

  But entering the complex through those same gates on my own, knowing I could leave at any given time… A smile touched my lips.

  I would have skipped the meeting entirely since Isa already shared my results with me, but given she’d done so on the sly, my absence would have raised too many suspicions. I still didn’t particularly like the Ice Queen of Fang, thawed or not, but I didn’t want her to get into trouble because of me, either.

  So I parked my car in the visitors’ lot on the eastern side, snatched the badge I’d been given upon my release yesterday from the passenger seat, and clipped it to my coat. After a quick check in the rearview mirror, I climbed out of the car, shut the door behind me with an empowering thud, then marched into the gray, impersonal building for the last time.

  After three months, the guards stationed here knew me by sight, and the four on duty today were no exception. Witch, werewolf, and two vamps, they comprised the standard mixed unit I’d grown accustomed to. With the nature of the facility, ICRA wanted to cover all grounds in case any trouble arose.