happened, but
whatever it was, he was glad.
Fury
twisted Lucien’s features. “What trickery do you employ, Rafe?” Lucien moved
toward the girl, but Rafe pulled her protectively closer. “Give her to me.
Now.”
Instead
of answering, Rafael stood, cradling her in his arms. She was light, little
more than a child. A feeling of admiration swelled within him, and with it, his
own urge to mate again.
Lucien’s
rage exploded when Rafael refused to hand her over. He lunged toward them, but
Anton and several others intercepted him, grabbing him by his arms and pulling
him back. Lucien howled and tried to shake them off, but more of Rafe’s pack
jumped in. In total, it took ten of his men to keep Lucien at bay. Silently,
Rafael’s gaze moved from Lycan to Lycan. His gaze was steady. Theirs not so.
They weren’t sure they liked what he was doing, but he’d seen the amazement in
their eyes when the girl dropped Lucien to his knees.
His
pack had recognized the strength in their alpha female and were now willing to
give Rafe what he needed: space and time.
Breaths
heaving out of him, Lucien roared again and managed to drag the men holding him
forward. His eyes flashed red, betraying his rage. As was to be expected, the
instant Lucien’s fury bypassed a certain threshold, his body went to all fours,
then from smooth skinned to furry black beast. Both he and his brother had
learned long ago how to shift quickly and easily, nothing like the horror
movies the kids loved to agonize over.
His
men backed away, all satisfied. Lucien would not avenge his lost love as a
wolf.
Rafael
clutched the girl tighter to his chest. Lucien’s great glossy black wolf
rivaled Rafael’s tawny version in every way but did not eclipse it. In human or
wolf form, they were different but equal in every way in terms of strength.
Rafael’s only edge was his patience over Lucien’s hair-trigger temper. It was
the reason they were still alive, because if they truly fought to the death, it
would mean both of theirs.
Looking
down at his brother, Rafe said, “We’ll resume this man to man at dawn.”
Lucien
snarled at Rafael’s back as he strode back up to the bedroom.
His
mind swirled in a million different directions. What had she done to Lucien?
How had she injured him as no other could? Did she possess the same dark magic
as the Slayers? And damn it, why had he prolonged the inevitable? An urge to go
to the ancient Amorak, his mother’s people, for answers pulled at him.
He
rarely visited them. It had been years, maybe a decade? When they refused to
believe Rafe’s claim that Lucien’s mate was a Slayer, he’d stormed away in
anger, never to return.
In
many ways he had cut off his nose to spite his face. The Amorak were wise
people, the caretakers of the Lycan since that day three hundred years ago when
they were created. Perhaps with them, he could find answers about the woman who
was driving an even deeper wedge between the brothers who were sworn blood
enemies.
Entering
his bedroom, Rafael gently set the girl down on the bed. As he studied her, an
amazing thing happened. The anger, rage, and doubt whirling inside him calmed.
Thoughts of his brother, his pack, and the Blood Law left him. He worried
naught about the pack’s fate or even his own. His entire being focused on this
girl and how she had the power to call to him.
His
hands moved to undress her, but then hesitated. He fought his greatest fear,
the one that still managed to linger within him. His fear of love. Of being so
bound to anyone, let alone someone destined to die, that he would scream and
fall to his knees, and beg like his father had, only to be kicked away.
He
did not want to see her milky smooth skin or her full breasts or the soft
tangle of curls at the junction of her thighs. If he did, he would touch her.
Then take her. His cock thickened at the thought of having her again. She’d
been so tight and sweet, he could have made love to her all night long.
whatever it was, he was glad.
Fury
twisted Lucien’s features. “What trickery do you employ, Rafe?” Lucien moved
toward the girl, but Rafe pulled her protectively closer. “Give her to me.
Now.”
Instead
of answering, Rafael stood, cradling her in his arms. She was light, little
more than a child. A feeling of admiration swelled within him, and with it, his
own urge to mate again.
Lucien’s
rage exploded when Rafael refused to hand her over. He lunged toward them, but
Anton and several others intercepted him, grabbing him by his arms and pulling
him back. Lucien howled and tried to shake them off, but more of Rafe’s pack
jumped in. In total, it took ten of his men to keep Lucien at bay. Silently,
Rafael’s gaze moved from Lycan to Lycan. His gaze was steady. Theirs not so.
They weren’t sure they liked what he was doing, but he’d seen the amazement in
their eyes when the girl dropped Lucien to his knees.
His
pack had recognized the strength in their alpha female and were now willing to
give Rafe what he needed: space and time.
Breaths
heaving out of him, Lucien roared again and managed to drag the men holding him
forward. His eyes flashed red, betraying his rage. As was to be expected, the
instant Lucien’s fury bypassed a certain threshold, his body went to all fours,
then from smooth skinned to furry black beast. Both he and his brother had
learned long ago how to shift quickly and easily, nothing like the horror
movies the kids loved to agonize over.
His
men backed away, all satisfied. Lucien would not avenge his lost love as a
wolf.
Rafael
clutched the girl tighter to his chest. Lucien’s great glossy black wolf
rivaled Rafael’s tawny version in every way but did not eclipse it. In human or
wolf form, they were different but equal in every way in terms of strength.
Rafael’s only edge was his patience over Lucien’s hair-trigger temper. It was
the reason they were still alive, because if they truly fought to the death, it
would mean both of theirs.
Looking
down at his brother, Rafe said, “We’ll resume this man to man at dawn.”
Lucien
snarled at Rafael’s back as he strode back up to the bedroom.
His
mind swirled in a million different directions. What had she done to Lucien?
How had she injured him as no other could? Did she possess the same dark magic
as the Slayers? And damn it, why had he prolonged the inevitable? An urge to go
to the ancient Amorak, his mother’s people, for answers pulled at him.
He
rarely visited them. It had been years, maybe a decade? When they refused to
believe Rafe’s claim that Lucien’s mate was a Slayer, he’d stormed away in
anger, never to return.
In
many ways he had cut off his nose to spite his face. The Amorak were wise
people, the caretakers of the Lycan since that day three hundred years ago when
they were created. Perhaps with them, he could find answers about the woman who
was driving an even deeper wedge between the brothers who were sworn blood
enemies.
Entering
his bedroom, Rafael gently set the girl down on the bed. As he studied her, an
amazing thing happened. The anger, rage, and doubt whirling inside him calmed.
Thoughts of his brother, his pack, and the Blood Law left him. He worried
naught about the pack’s fate or even his own. His entire being focused on this
girl and how she had the power to call to him.
His
hands moved to undress her, but then hesitated. He fought his greatest fear,
the one that still managed to linger within him. His fear of love. Of being so
bound to anyone, let alone someone destined to die, that he would scream and
fall to his knees, and beg like his father had, only to be kicked away.
He
did not want to see her milky smooth skin or her full breasts or the soft
tangle of curls at the junction of her thighs. If he did, he would touch her.
Then take her. His cock thickened at the thought of having her again. She’d
been so tight and sweet, he could have made love to her all night long.
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