Betrothed to the Moon

by Wynter Boudreaux

  “Are you ready to be mine?” Jared reared back so that they could look at one another. His clear eyes searched hers, the delicate lashes fluttering as he took her in; his sharp cheekbones, accentuated by the shadows from the fire, made him even more handsome.

  “I’m ready,” Serena breathed. Her body was so relaxed. She took another deep breath, feeling Jared put his weight further back, on his knees. He slid his hands towards her breasts, lowered his mouth to hers, and kissed her.

  “Forever,” he said, and entered her.

  It hurt; Serena cried out, feeling the breach as it seared into her bones. He was big, and her body stretched as much as possible to accommodate his—seemingly to no avail. She moaned and twisted as he filled her, and then, when she could take no more of him, they laid still together, his quiet breath all she could hear above the blood rushing in her ears.

  She was embarrassed. It hadn’t felt like this in the dream—it certainly hadn’t hurt. She knew she’d bled a bit and that was humiliating.

  “Are you ready, Serena?” Jared was watching her, one thumb tenderly brushing her cheek.

  “Ready? You mean we haven’t—“

  “—We started,” he said softly, and then, ever so slowly, he moved his hips and stirred inside of her. “Now. Are you ready?”

  It didn’t hurt, what he was doing now. “Yes,” she whimpered, and he continued to slowly thrum in and out of her, in and out, as he kissed her face, her neck, her chest. He reached her breasts and took one nipple in his mouth, tasting it, and then the other. Serena’s body, stretched and softened, began to relax into the rhythm he introduced. She felt like her knees were rubbery, her arms too weak to hold him, but she tried.

  And then the room began to shake around them.

  Serena knew the instant she looked into Jared’s eyes that he’d fully expected it—he’d expected something to mark the amount of magic whipping through the air, running over their skin like the softest lace. She’d been too lost in the sensations of her own body to smell it, taste it, but here it was—they were bound now, one to the other, held by deeper magic than anything she could’ve imagined. Jared threw his head back, his teeth gritted, and she realized how difficult it must be for him to keep himself from mercilessly fucking her tender body.

  Serena thought for a second. She felt herself, her ribs, her belly, her legs, she paid attention to the tiny twinges and the soreness, and then… She shut that out. She found the little swollen bud at the center of her being, the ripening pleasure now reaching out again, and focused on that. And when Jared looked down at her again, his eyes hooded and his breath short, she said, “please.”

  That was all it took.

  The magic erupted over them in a spiral of stars as Jared wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her body into the air, his long cock plunging deep inside and then, just as fast, pulling away. Serena moaned and he pulled her against his chest, both of them upright, she sitting on his lap as he pumped into her. Jared bared his teeth and nipped her throat, his hands reaching down behind her to squeeze and lift her ass; he arched her body so that her clit hit the base of his cock, and the power of it reverberated throughout Serena’s spine. She was going to come again, her body straining against the new sensations and fear.

  Jared thrust up in to her, rubbing her clit as he savaged her throat and chest. The magic created a whirlpool above them, and Serena stared into it, gazing as if transfixed, her body ebbing with pleasure. When it was finally too much, she screamed, tightening everywhere, her slick center squeezing Jared as he fucked her, harder now, and when she came she knew he wasn’t far behind. He gripped her face with one hand as he held her upright with the other, filling her from below with relentless thrusts. “Say it,” he rasped. “Swear it, Serena—swear to me—“

  “—I belong to you Jared, only you, I love you,” she panted, her body filling again and again with waves of ecstatic pleasure. “Jared! I’m yours!”

  “Your body is mine—“

  “—My body is yours—“

  “--Your heart is mine—“

  “--My heart is yours—“

  “--Your soul is mine,” Jared said, now pumping into her with full force; Serena’s head rocked back and forth on her neck, and she clung to his slick skin with her nails.

  “My soul is yours!” The whirlpool of stars crackled above them, and tiny bolts of lightning shot out to the corners of the dark room. Everything was electrically bright.

  “My body, my heart, my soul, my life are all yours Serena,” Jared rasped, and then, his arms tight around her waist once again, she felt him stiffen inside of her. He pumped once, twice, three times, then gasped as wet heat filled her body and he came deep inside. He clutched her to him, their sweat making both of them slide back and forth, and as the lightning died out they both collapsed back on the bed.

  Sleep overtook them instantly.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jared woke first. His eyes ran over the walls of the room, searching the corners and hiding places for any unwelcome intruders; his eyesight was now just as sharp in the dark as the light. There was no one there but Serena, however, so he relaxed back into the strange fabric of the bed and pulled her tightly against his chest.

  It was strange; he could feel the change in himself clearly, almost as if it were visible. No woman had ever made him feel the way that Serena did, so it made sense, in a way, that physically being with Serena was different than being with anyone else—but this was more. Part of himself was at peace, now. He could feel it. A restlessness that had always been a part of his nature was sated, and he looked forward to the rest of his life with calm acceptance. Given, of course, that Serena always remained a part of him.

  He could also feel his wolf—no, that wasn’t right… He was his wolf, now. It was fully integrated into his personality, his desires, his way of being. Jared didn’t have to fight to control it, even though the sensations that had accompanied the change were so much stronger than ever before. He knew he could choose when to transform, could have spoken in the low tones of a growl to another wolf just as easily as saying hello, could make one of his fangs long and dangerous while the rest of his teeth were the charming, flat white of a human smile. He could keep himself from killing an enemy, or tear them to shreds. He could do so many things, now, and his body sang with the power of his change.

  It was her; he was sure. It couldn’t hurt, of course, that they were both constantly being bathed in magic, but Jared innately understood that the magic of his wolf was inherently older, deeper somehow, than anything else they’d encountered—and most of what they would. He was fundamentally different, transformed by both the wolf and his love for Serena, and that transformation relied on something older than he could understand.

  Jared stood up after one last squeeze and walked over to the food tray. He sniffed it, and the magic in it was obvious; Serena hadn’t had a chance. It was designed to be impossible to refuse, and the slightest brush of Kelorian’s pinky would’ve contaminated it with sorcery anyway; the half-elf, like Jared, practically dripped with ancient magic. No fighting it. Jared sighed and picked at the unfamiliar fruits, cut into tiny star shapes and wedges within wedges. He hoped none of it was made of people, like the old stories said.

  A knock on the door startled him. Jared let his transformation begin and approached it, unselfconscious of his nakedness; he cracked it and looked outside, his pupil narrowed with intensified sight.

  “Wolf,” a dry voice said, and then Kelorian’s cloaked form appeared. “May I speak with you?”

  “What do you want?”

  He heard a sigh from the shadowed hood. “Inside?”

  “No.”

  “It is a matter of some importance,” Kelorian said wearily, and Jared snarled when he saw the half-elf’s hand wave in that nonchalant way that signaled a spell was being cast. “Please,” Kelorian finally said, “I ask as a fellow member of the Guard.”

  That threw Jared for a loop, startling him j
ust long enough for the long half-elf to slide a foot in the crack of the door and gently angle his way inside. Before Jared could slit his throat, he was stunned by the newly erected wall that hid Serena and the bed from view. The long chamber had been bisected in two, the table with food now central between the two comfortable chairs and the fire on this side of the wall. “She has her own fire, I promise,” Kelorian said, still with that vaguely appeasing, weary voice. “And she has her privacy. We will not disturb her.”

  “You disturb me,” Jared growled, but Kelorian only shrugged and slumped into one of the chairs, pulling the lengths of fabric around himself. He seemed paler than usual.

  “Well. I disturb even myself sometimes,” he said, and picked up a tart from the table, popping it into his mouth. “Comes with the territory of being devilishly handsome.” He waved his hand at the other chair, but no magic accompanied the motion. “Can you sit down, please? You’re going to scare my rose goblins.”

  “I could give a shit about your rose goblins,” Jared muttered, but he did sit down; if he was being totally honest with himself, it was pretty weird that the half-elf wasn’t just bossing him around and throwing him against the wall with his spells. “What do you want?”

  “So many things,” Kelorian opined, eating another tart. He licked his fingers and sat up straighter, meeting Jared’s gaze. “So. You and your luscious human are properly bonded?”

  “Well,” Jared snapped, his sarcasm coming to the fore, “we didn’t know the words, no one would tell us, so…”

  “I think you did fine,” Kelorian said, and rolled his eyes. “The fireworks were pretty enough, anyway. The words aren’t really important, necessarily—it’s the intention behind them, the sincerity, that drives the magic. Just like with any spell. Besides,” he said, eating yet another tart, “I knew you could figure it out. You’re a natural.”

  “Oh yeah? I’m not a vicious monster that’s going to devour the woman I love like some kind of zombie predator?”

  “Of course not,” Kelorian said with another dismissive wave of his hand. “You didn’t, did you? No. I knew you’d handle bonding just fine.” His flippant demeanor changed abruptly as he met Jared’s gaze. “Or I would’ve supervised.”

  Jared’s hands clenched the arms of the chair he was sitting in. “No,” he growled, his voice low and threatening. “You wouldn’t have.”

  “Eh, let’s not fight, cousin,” Kelorian said, suddenly dropping back into his typical indifference. “It’s over now anyway, right?”

  “Cousin?”

  “Sure.” Kelorian winked at him; it made Jared about as happy as his smiles did. “We’re all cousins in the Guard. Cousin.”

  “About that,” Jared said, glowering. “What the hell does being in the Guard actually entail?”

  “Oh, you know,” Kelorian said dismissively, waving his hand again. “Things wolves like—fighting to the death, epic battles, allegiances, betrayals, all the usual things you find in any elite military unit.”

  “That sounds like a soap opera, buddy, not a military unit.” Jared rolled his eyes at Kelorian, who actually cracked a real smile for the first time that he could remember.

  “Yes. You’re very right,” he finally said after a long pause staring at the fire. His smile hadn’t lasted long. “It was, at one point in time, an elite military unit. Our leader, as I told you, bound himself to the Heir of the Sunstone, the daughter of a particularly crooked Elder, the former king of the Sun Court.” He looked back at Jared, his face serious. “We are in an unfortunate position. Our king, a fair but cold ruler, has found himself at the mercy of a disappointed Court. We are under attack from the Sun Queen’s army. We have had to turn to questionable allies and questionable methods simply to ensure the safety of Elfaven, our kingdom—which may well fall, if the Court continues to divide.”

  “Why are you fighting this chick in the first place—you said my uncle fell in love with her, right? That’s the same guy—your leader.”

  “Yes. Maddox is his name,” Kelorian sighed. “A great man.” He sighed again. “It is difficult to explain… The two kingdoms have been at war for generations. They battle for ownership and use of the Sunstone, the most powerful magic we have.” He looked at Jared, his white eyebrows low on his pale forehead. “There are millennia behind the ways of our people—we live much longer than humans, Jared,” he said softly. “Much, much longer. There are thousands of conflicts between the Court’s members that have ebbed and flowed for century upon century. But now we find ourselves in a dire position.”

  “What?”

  “We must have the Sunstone,” Kelorian said softly, “or we may well die.” He turned and met Jared’s eyes full on. “Cousin, we need your help.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Serena woke and immediately sat up; she could feel the emptiness of the bed around her like an ache. Had it all been a dream—the beautiful parts, full of Jared and shared ecstasy, and the challenges, like being unable to leave the realm of the Fae? She pulled her dress over her head from where it lay draped across a bannister and slid out of the bed. The fire was warm, but she startled to discover it; previously there hadn’t been a hearth against the wall. Wait—the wall? When did that happen?

  I seriously doubt the binding ceremony manages to move walls, Serena thought, then shivered. Well. It had been pretty dang magical.

  There was a low throb in the center of her body. She rubbed her belly and smiled.

  Was there a chance? She wondered. Maybe. Certainly.

  Where was Jared?

  She stepped through the doorway, pushing the heavy velvet curtains aside to find the other half of the room she’d previously thought of as one. Jared was picking at the food on the tray, which looked magically replenished. New savory scents and lush colors filled it, and her stomach growled. She moved to walk over to the other chair but as she passed Jared he reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her into his lap. They sat for a moment, silently picking out food for one another to try, nibbling each others’ lips and simply being together.

  It was heaven.

  Finally, Jared sighed and rested his forehead against her shoulder, uninterested in any more food. “What is it?” Serena kissed his temple, twisting so that she could see his face.

  “Kelorian was here,” Jared said by means of explanation. Still, though, his expression held something back.

  “So? What’d he want?” Serena reached across and stuffed three strawberries into her mouth, making a ridiculous face for Jared’s benefit; it worked, and he laughed.

  “He wanted to talk, actually, and he didn’t sound like half as much of a dick as usual.” Jared frowned. “He kept calling me ‘cousin.’”

  “Now that’s funny,” Serena said, smiling.

  “I guess,” Jared said, still staring into the fire. She wrapped her hands around his neck and held him close.

  “That can’t be all that’s bothering you,” she whispered.

  “It’s not,” Jared murmured. “The thing is… This whole situation is so confusing. I’m not a guy that does well with confusion.”

  “Nobody does well with confusion.”

  “No, I know… I just mean that I’m not prepared to feel so conflicted about anything—I’ve always been very sure of how I felt. Everything is all or nothing, black or white. I don’t have a problem making tough calls—“

  “—Which is one of the reasons you’ve rolled with the punches so well so far,” she finished for him, and he nodded, his brow still low. “I still don’t understand what’s going on,” Serena said softly, running her hands over his face. Jared turned and looked at her, his eyes grim.

  “I’m going to fight with them. The very same jackasses that kidnapped me and took you away from your life forever. And I honestly don’t know… If that prick Shrentun had just asked me to come, I think I might’ve, Serena. I think I might.”

  “That’s alright, love,” Serena said softly, and kissed him again. She loved him so much.
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  “No,” Jared said, a bit of urgency in his tone, “I’m not saying it right. I’m going to fight for them, and—“

  Just then a booming knock on the door interrupted them, and after a second it swung open with a bang. The sight waiting for them was so intense it made Serena’s hair stand on end.

  Kelorian stood there, wrapped in his cloaks, the little flickering lights whizzing rapidly around his head as he gazed at them, unfazed. A man that looked exactly like him—extremely tall, white haired, regal and lovely—stood to his right, a broad-sword strapped to his back and knives gleaming in rows like teeth strapped along his torso. Other warriors stood behind, rows and rows of them with swords, daggers, spiked clubs and shields covering their bodies. Some were close to human; most had features that made them look surreal, electric eyes or fangs or in one case, the head of a stag. One man looked painted in blood, another made out of stone.

  “Cousin,” Kelorian said, turning the handle of a smooth sword towards Jared so that he could grasp it, the handle gleaming with rubies. “The time has come. They’re here.”

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  Book Three, Entranced by the Elf, features Rorik—Kelorian’s twin—as he decides what to do about the lifetime of love he experienced—and lost—with a changeling dumped in his bed, a powerful spell cast over them both. But the witchling stirs his blood, and he realizes all might not be lost…

  Author Biography

  Wynter Boudreaux is the pseudonym of a lady obsessed with filthy fantasy and paranormal romance, hot mochas (yes, even in summer), long days lounging with a good book while it rains outside, and gardening when it's not. Check out my newsletter for upcoming release dates, freebies, and cover reveals!

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