Betrothed to the Moon

by Wynter Boudreaux

  “—You’re a prick,” Jared snarled, thrashing. He wanted to kill him. Kill. Him.

  “I’m the reluctant recipient of your wrath, wolf,” Kelorian said, growing icy. “I did you a favor. And yes, you’re right—once the girl survived your fantasy, I knew you both would be useful to us. And unfortunately, you are correct; she had been touched by magic already, in spite of my efforts. So.” He waved a hand at Serena, who was eating ravenously. “She’s eaten our food, she belongs here now. That’s how it is with humans. If they’re touched by magic, they’re never right, not ever; they can go back to the world but they just feel wrong. They’re unhappy.” He watched her for a second. “I would have sent her back in a heartbeat if it kept her from getting shredded by you, but I didn’t want that for her—stuck moping in the Ironworld forever.” He shook his head, as if getting rid of a thought that bothered him. “But you didn’t rip her up, did you? Not even close.” A knowing look. A very, very knowledgeable look. “You want her, you will bind her, you have to have her. She’s even consented. She doesn’t have to go back to the Ironworld, feeling that dazed unhappiness humans do; she can stay with her wolf, who—even in dreams—would never hurt her. As you said. She’ll be bound to you—well. You don’t know the ritual, of course,” he said, giving Jared a sly glance. “But the hard part is over. Almost.” He shook his head again, glancing back at Serena. “Anyway: magic touches them, they try to live the life they had before, but they’re unhappy. However, if they consume magic?” He arched a brow and pointed to the tray of food. “They can’t leave. They belong to us.”

  “She belongs to me!” Jared roared the words. Even Kelorian looked momentarily nervous; Serena glanced up from her meal. The wolf inside of him, Jared realized, grew stronger with time. He felt some pride in it, until her lovely voice echoed across the chamber to him.

  “Jared,” she said softly. “We need to talk about this.”

  The panic her words produced stilled him instantly, but before they could start to leave her mouth, Kelorian put up a finger. “She’s ours, now, Jared. She’s a part of the Brightworld. And if you want her, then you join us.”

  Jared wanted to return to his ‘go fuck yourself’ refrain.

  But Serena was sitting there, gorgeous, magicked, utterly intoxicating to his senses. This was even more powerful than the dreams; this was something else entirely. He would trade his soul for the chance to touch her.

  So he didn’t tell the half-elf to go fuck himself. He stood, silent, still, in his transparent prison, until Kelorian nodded once and left the room. The minute the door closed, the heavy lock sliding into place—a door Jared knew instantly would never open from the inside—his transparent cage disappeared and he slid, naked, to the floor.

  “Serena,” he said, a prayer in his voice, and to his infinite relief she smiled and stood up.

  “Come here,” she said softly, and so he did.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The bed was warm.

  A sheer, glittering fabric that felt like velvet but was much too thin to be the earthly stuff he knew hung over them in a canopy over the bed. It was a little like laying under the stars. The bed itself was an epic nest of satin and silk with some more of the sheer, thin velvet thrown in; Jared believed the bed had to be magicked as well in some way, as it simply felt too good to lay down in it to be real. Serena lay next to him, still in her gown, and ran her fingers through his hair. They faced each other, his long legs spreading further into the blankets, and her smaller, curvy body nestled above.

  “It isn’t magic, Jared,” she spoke softly, soothing him. “You’re just exhausted.”

  “From what, being unable to move?” He sighed. He had begun to understand what Kelorian meant about the wolf being dangerous; he had control over it, especially now that he knew more about its impulse control—or lack thereof—and could feel a transformation coming on and stop it. He could feel the parts inside of him that belonged to his wolf, were guided by it; he knew he was stronger than them now. The dream state had taught him a great deal. But he was also covered in bruises, some of them days old, yellow and green on the edges of his skin, some of them horribly raw and fresh, and above and beyond it all he was utterly exhausted.

  But the wolf still wanted her. Take her, it whispered. Can’t you smell her? Take. Her.

  And Jared wanted her too--he wanted her in the way Kelorian had said—he wanted to bond her to himself, but he wouldn’t do that in any other way than loving. His ‘insatiable’ side would have to wait until everyone was ready to make those fantasies a reality; his dream state had been fun, but it taught him something about fear. He wanted Serena wide awake and willing when it was time.

  “Exactly, yes,” Serena said reasonably, nowhere near the same level of turmoil appeared to be in her own thoughts as she ran her fingers through his hair, over his shoulders, and traced his cheekbones. It felt heavenly, just the simplest touch. “You fought so hard and for so long, against an unbreakable chain. You can see all of the lines where the spell held you” –she traced a welt on his chest—“and it hurt you, all of the struggling and twisting.” She sighed, still lightly touching his body. He’d been hard for the past hour, ever since he’d fallen from his place against the wall and half-crawled, half-ran to her side. They’d both been ignoring his erection.

  It wasn’t the only thing they’d been ignoring. “Serena,” he said, taking a deep breath and reaching up to hold her hands in his own, “about our dreams…”

  The words left him. They both started to speak at the same time, then Jared stopped, then she did; they smiled and laughed at the awkwardness, but neither started again. They lay for a long time in the dark room, the fire crackling, the heat seeping into their bones and their thoughts growing dim. Finally, Jared slept.

  He did not dream of anything, this time, but a dark place, a comfortable place, where sacred hands searched his wounds and soothed him, the only light he could see their pale, luminescent skin.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Serena was not a romantic. Well, not any more, not since Shaun—certainly not since she’d pieced together all of the tiny humiliations and depravities he’d saved up just for her. She’d once believed in love at first sight and saving yourself for marriage, but she didn’t know what she believed now.

  Could you really fall in love with someone you barely knew? Could you lay in their arms during a violently sexy dream and think that they knew you better than anyone? Could they punish your body in ways you never dreamed you would enjoy without even knowing your last name?

  Practically speaking, she thought the answer to all of these questions had to be no. There was no way. It didn’t make any sense.

  But here she was, in a fairy den, a pawn in a fairy war—a pawn used to manipulate her very own werewolf dream lover. The whole thing felt much more bizarre than “hey, I used to be in a cult.”

  It felt right, though.

  Jared felt right.

  It was strange, what her fantasy had taught her; she’d learned something more about what she wanted, and what she didn’t. Jared hadn’t been in control during her fantasy hardly at all—she hadn’t wanted him to be. Somehow, she wanted him to be dominant without having any power… Because Shaun had taken all of hers, and she’d needed to confront that. Dirty the place up. Smear a little of herself on the House of Victory in all the filthiest means she could think of—use her body in the most extreme of ways because she knew now Shaun had used her mind that way. Her heart, even. And he’d been afraid of the power in her body, the lust she provoked—she’d had so much power, and she’d never known. Not once. She’d just been propped up here and there in ways of his choosing.

  So she’d used Jared that way, and it’d been fun. So much fun. But not fulfilling.

  Not until the very end, when he’d broken through her hold on the dream and become himself again, telling her in no uncertain terms what was going to happen, what she would do, what he would do to her. And then her very soul had sung.


  She wasn’t the girl that belonged to the House of Victory any more; Shaun seemed like a joke now. Even her feelings for him seemed simple and contrived. They were pale pastels compared to the dramatic palette Jared evoked in her. She couldn’t believe it but… She did love him. Truly. And she trusted him to dominate her in a way that no one else could conceive of, that no one else could understand.

  If the fairies had rigged this, they were her new best friends.

  Well, after the man who held her heart.

  Serena lay in the bed, stroking the soft fabric with the fingertips of one hand while her other lay near his cheek. She held back, not wanting to wake him; he was so tired. He needed to rest, desperately, and his body was healing before her very eyes. She watched as the hollows under his eyes began to fill, as the swelling went down where his flesh was rent by the spell, the green fading to yellow and then disappearing in his tan skin. It must be true, she thought. Magic is real. All of this is real.

  The downside was being tricked into staying here.

  She should’ve known when Jared said he didn’t like Kelorian that the half-elf couldn’t be trusted. But part of her had swooned a bit the first time she saw him—not in the same way she had with Jared, not in a way that grounded her to the earth and tethered her soul—because Kelorian was incredibly lovely to look at. Taller even than her wolf, slim with ivory skin that gleamed in the light, golden eyes, his shocking white hair a silk ribbon down his back in a tight braid anchored with silver beading--she had to admit she’d been blinded by his appearance. Kelorian looked like magic itself in a man’s body. If Jared was a wolf, majestic and wild, Kelorian was a stag, regal and ethereal. So she had a hard time believing he would tie her here against her will.

  But he had.

  He’d explained the dream state to her, made it sound reasonable; he’d made her capable of having incredibly kinky sex when she’d never had any before. He made her safe and vulnerable all at once, which in turn made her available for Jared. Serena had thought she’d owed him before, but now, she guessed they were even.

  Jared’s eyes slowly opened and locked on her, his pupils growing wide in the dim light. “Hello,” he whispered and sat up, studying the room around them. When no one was there, he immediately slid between Serena’s legs and pressed his body to hers, his form eclipsing her own. She was breathless beneath him, her hands now seeking the skin that she’d watched heal. “Serena,” he rasped, and slowly lowered his body until they lay, belly to belly.

  “You wanted…” she murmured, suddenly nervous, and began running her hands over his back; she could feel the sleek muscles there bunching and curling, as if to strike. “You wanted to talk to me?”

  He relaxed a little bit, and pulled back. “Yes,” he finally said, and she could see his eyes were locked on her, the firelight dancing in the reflection of his pupil. “I… We should talk.”

  He eased off of her and returned to his position next to her; it occurred to her that if her gown hadn’t still been on, she may no longer be virgin. The thought brought a delicious rise in her chest.

  Jared seemed to sense the momentary thrill. “What are you thinking?” He reached over and tenderly placed a hand on her cheek, then traced her throat down to her collarbone in the same way she had done. “Are you thinking about the dreams?”

  “Yes,” Serena said slowly, feeling mesmerized by his touch.

  “Are you thinking about the future?” Jared’s voice was low and husky, still recovering and sounding secretive.

  “Yes.”

  “Serena…” He sighed. “I’m sorry that your life is changed now, in ways I’m sure you never would’ve wanted. I’m sorry that I showed up at the cabin just after you moved in.”

  She sat up. The room glittered around them, shifting as the strange magic that infused everything was felt, rather than seen, in every object. “I’m not,” she said bluntly. “I wish… I wish I could go back to the place we’re from if I felt like it, that’s true. But that’s not your fault.”

  “It is,” he said roughly, sitting up beside her. His chest heaved; she watched the thick muscles flutter as he gathered his breath, his brow low. “This is all my fault. I should’ve—“

  “—Unless being a werewolf also makes you psychic, there’s nothing you could’ve done,” Serena said, trying to sound logical. It was true. “You went some place you thought you would be safe, when everything was turning against you. You just happened to be there at a tough time, when the same scummy guy that was chasing you was also renting out the place you loved. And it happened to be me who was renting it.”

  “I don’t think it was the house that brought me there, Serena,” Jared told her after a long moment. “I imagine that there was…” He looked at her with an eyebrow cocked. “Did you bring stuff, leave, and come back?” For a moment his good-natured smile returned. “You know, like people tend to do when they’re moving somewhere?”

  She smiled back. “Of course.” It was a relief to see him a little happier.

  His grin faded immediately. “It’s true that I love that old cabin. I spent a lot of happy times there with my grand-mother, and she was the last person in my family I can really say loved me. But…” Jared shook his head. “Kelorian told me that the magic that came with my change—the magic that makes me me, a werewolf—probably… Lead me to you. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I ended up there. I don’t think it was good memories either.” He looked terribly sad. “It was me. Looking for you.”

  Serena’s heart soared. She knew these things were magic—she knew, down to her toes, that she was surrounded by forces beyond her control. But it didn’t matter; she trusted magic. It had given her power, and brought Jared into her life. This was right.

  So why did he look so sad?

  Serena thought about it. Did he regret that his bond-mate was some dumpy former cult member that he’d never met? Did he wish he was bound to a supermodel, someone he likely dated? She felt her confidence fading.

  “I’m sorry, Serena,” he suddenly said, his voice even deeper. He was studying her face, his eyes wandering over every nuance of her expression. “I’m sorry that I did this to you—that I’ve trapped you with me. I wish…” Jared squeezed his eyes shut, then blinked at her. “You know, if someone had told me I would want a woman like this, ever, I would’ve told them they were fucking crazy. If they’d said I was a werewolf who was going to be stuck joining an elf army down in fairyland hell, I would’ve believed that easier than the fact that I would be helplessly in love with a woman I’d only fucked in my dreams and I’d only known for half a day.” He rubbed a hand over his face and swore some more. “But I do love you, Serena, if that counts for anything. I know it doesn’t make up for this. I know it’s not what anyone sane would choose. But I do.” He held her face between his warm hands, his breath mingling with her own. “I love you.”

  “It is weird, isn’t it,” she finally murmured, placing her hands over his, “how much… I love you too, Jared, is what I’m trying to say. I know exactly what you mean. You’re not angry that you didn’t get to choose someone more…” She thought hard about how to phrase the question. “More accustomed to your lifestyle?”

  “My lifestyle?” He cocked an eyebrow, leaning back to take her in. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m just guessing you never dated anyone else who was in a cult,” Serena said, and blew out a breath while he chuckled quietly beside her.

  “No. Can’t say I did.”

  She lightly slapped his arm, but he couldn’t seem to help himself, and the low laughter didn’t stop. She didn’t really mind; it was a wonderful sound. “I’m not a dang supermodel, Jared, is all,” she breathed, trying not to sound as ridiculous as she felt. “I’m just some frumpy accountant—“

  “—Did you just say frumpy?” He looked horrified. “Did you just call my bond-mate frumpy?”

  She laughed out loud. “Yes. Yes I did.”

  He lunged at her, landing light
ly over her with Serena helplessly pinned below, giggling frantically as he playfully nipped her nose and kissed her soundly. “Don’t you ever,” he said, his voice achingly husky, “call my lovely Serena anything but gorgeous”—he kissed her throat—“delicious” –his mouth moved lower—“or intoxicating.”

  It took all of her power to wiggle free and stop his wonderful admonishments. “You know what I mean,” she finally said, batting his hands away and still laughing the whole time. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her closely from behind.

  “Maybe you don’t know what I mean,” he said softly, and began kissing her again. First her ear, then the nape of her neck, then, so slowly, a trail along her spine. Serena gasped and arched into the lovely sensation, her whole body on fire. “My love is more beautiful than life itself,” Jared whispered, his hands now sliding along her hips, across her stomach, and teasing the undersides of her breasts. “The life I have now is only a life because she is in it—and it is more rich and rewarding than the life I had before. It has more tastes and textures, more of anything a man could want, more than a heart could hold.” He gently squeezed her breasts, and she felt his hard body slide against her backside, the sheer gown keeping his outside. “I think you are my heart now, Serena,” Jared said, and reared back just a bit, just enough to push against the growing dampness in the center of her body. “You’re everything.”

  “Do you mean that?” She couldn’t help but ask, and strained to see his face over her shoulder.

  He stopped torturing her with his attentions and leaned forward so she could see the earnestness in his face. “Of course I do. Even if I didn’t have the wolf in here, constantly barking the truth, I was a bad liar before.”

  “What if…” Serena searched his gaze for an answer, and found she needed to ask. “What if it’s just the magic? Does that bother you at all?”

  “No,” Jared said simply, tucking a tendril behind her ear so that he could kiss her again. “From what I understand, the magic did me a favor. It knew who I would want this way—it understood what I needed. And it guided me to you.” He sighed, his hands now lovingly clasped around her, feeling her chest as she breathed. “The truth is, Serena, that I would have loved you no matter what.” He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, but she could still hear his words even though they were muffled. “The truth is that you might not have wanted me.”