Wolf's Fall (14 page)

“At least you've reconciled.”

“For the most part, yes.” He nuzzled her neck.
“But enough about me. What about you? Do you want to talk about it?”

“There isn't much to say,” she said sadly. “Stefano was caught by hunters during what should have been a simple trip to town. He just vanished into thin air. Eventually the hunters responsible couldn't resist sending me a taunt in the form of a lock of his hair and a ring I'd given him. Then a finger.”

“That's sick.” His anger was palpable.

“It was. Tarron and his men scoured the countryside, and they found him eventually. But it was too late. He was chained to an iron bed frame, dead of starvation. They just left him there to die slowly,” she finished in a whisper.

“I'm sorry. I'll never understand how people can be so cruel, and evil.”

“We are not undead.” She shook her head. “We're living creatures. We're born, we fall in love, we bleed, and we can die. Yet we're less than human to them. Less than nothing. They had no right to take my mate from me, but it's done and can't be changed. A part of me will always love him, but I want you to know that I'm glad I found you.”

“We found each other.” He traced her face with his fingertips, his touch gentle.

“Yes.”

Climbing off his lap, she stood and held out her hand. This man and his wolf were her future.

It was time to lay the past to rest. For both of
them.

N
ick pushed to his feet, anticipation making his pulse skip. Calla sensed his unspoken need, and reflected it. When she took his hand, he went willingly, following a step behind as she led him down the hall to her bedroom. Then she turned and placed her palms on his chest, their warmth branding him through his T-shirt.

“Make love to me, Nick. No mating rules, just us.”

“Making love involves no rules between mates anyway. It's whatever feels right.” He kissed her lips. “I won't push you into anything you're not ready for.”

“
This
feels right, with you. I say we play the rest by ear.”

“I'm all for that.”

She tugged at the bottom of his shirt and pulled
the material up, over his head. He helped her, smiling as she tossed it aside and went for the button on his jeans. She unzipped his fly and parted the material, pushing at the denim until his cock sprang free.

They were together. He and Calla. That knowledge thrilled him almost as much as her tongue flicking out to capture the tiny bead weeping from the slit of the spongy head. He groaned as she took him in her mouth, surrounding him with wet heat. Threading his fingers through her hair, he fed her his cock, guiding the length down her throat, watching it disappear between her lips.

“God, yes,” he breathed. “I need this. Your mouth on me feels so damned good. I could fuck you like this all day.”

The pure pleasure was too electric, zinging little shocks of delight to his balls, through his belly. He wouldn't last long this way, but he wasn't ready to give up the feeling just yet. With her on her knees, sucking him and taking his less than gentle thrusts with obvious enthusiasm, he had no trouble believing he could die happy just like this.

He was going to love being her mate.

“Stop, baby. I don't want to come yet.” She pulled off his cock with a moan of frustration and he smiled. “Don't worry. We're not done by a long shot. Undress for me.”

He held out a hand for her and helped her
stand. She bit her lip, looking vulnerable. Was she having second thoughts already? Did she want to back out? Then her expression cleared, became more confident, as she held his gaze and slowly peeled off her blouse, dropping it. He feasted his eyes on her full breasts, the rosy nipples pouty, begging for his teeth.

Untying her pajama bottoms, she pushed them past her hips and down, taking the lacy scrap of panties with them. She stood naked before him, skin pale and creamy, a dark triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs begging him to explore.

She reached for him, and he took her hand, gesturing to her big, comfy bed. “I want you up there, on your back, knees bent and feet flat.” He was pleased by the hunger in her eyes as she arranged herself on the covers. “Now spread your knees wide so I can see all of you.”

Again, she did as he asked. Her thighs parted, revealing her pink slit, already wet. More evidence that she was turned on by his taking control and was eager for more. He toed off his boots and pushed his jeans the rest of the way off, then sat on the bed near her feet.

“Good girl. Look how pretty you are, already wet for me. Now I want you to touch yourself.”

“Nick,” she said, voice husky. Her pupils dilated and her breasts heaved with desire. His wolf could smell her heightened scent and growled in approval.

“Do it for me, honey. Finger yourself. Let me see you get excited.”

For a second he thought she might argue, but instead her fingers slid down her belly and through the curls. The pad of one finger touched the small nub and began to work it in slow, rhythmic circles.

“You're so beautiful,” he praised, glad he could still speak. His erection strained, demanding he take her. But not yet. “Now lower. Spread that sweet cream all over your slit, and then finger-fuck yourself.”

No hesitation this time. She was getting into their play, preparing herself for him. Her thighs were spread and relaxed, tension gone, her posture completely open to him. Her slender fingers began to massage her slit, dipping into her channel, fucking herself as her hips arched off the bed. The sight was so naughty, so provocative, he nearly came just from watching.

“Ooh . . . Nick, please!”

“Tell me what you need, beautiful,” he encouraged, moving closer.

“Nick, fuck me! Please!”

“Anything for my mate.” Moving between her thighs, he positioned his cock at her opening, cupped her bottom, and lifted her, then sank into her slick channel.

“Oh! Oh, gods, yes,” she cried.

He started with slow thrusts, angling deep.
Watched his rod impale her again and again, until a warning tingle began at the base of his spine and his balls tightened. Wouldn't be long.

Lowering her bottom, he covered her body with his and gathered her to his chest, wanting this closeness when they came together. The sense of completeness. He fucked her hard and fast, their breaths mingling. Drove them higher.

“Claim me,” she gasped. “Make me yours!”

His wolf roared at the words they'd both been waiting to hear. “Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

She offered her neck, and his fangs lengthened faster than they ever had.

“Ah, fuck!” he yelled, every muscle locking down as he pumped his load inside her. He could stand it no longer, and struck, clamping his jaws onto the curve of her neck and shoulder, burying his fangs deep. She cried out and clung to his shoulders, riding out the wave, milking his cock. Bathing him with heat.

Suddenly, he felt them being enveloped in a brilliant white light. It grew, swelled, so intense he thought his body might explode. And then the light burst into a million stars, wringing a fresh orgasm from him, which he pumped into her channel.

From the stardust, an invisible golden thread spanned between them from Nick to his new mate, wound itself tightly between their two souls. Bound them as one in the way of his kind.

“I feel that,” she gasped. “It's incredible.”

“Me, too. And, yes, it is.” He kissed her face, any part of her in reach.

When the last of their spasms subsided, he carefully released her shoulder and collapsed over her, sweaty and panting. And more satisfied than he'd been in decades. “Thank you,” he whispered. “So much.”

“It felt right.”

“Yes, and it
was
right.”

She gazed up at him, and there was such raw emotion on her face as she asked the question he'd known was coming. “Can I claim you, too? I want that so much.”

A vampire's fangs. In my flesh.

A cold chill seized his heart, but he took a deep breath and said, “I want that, too.”

Excited, hopeful, she rose up a bit and leaned over him. He closed his eyes, just letting himself feel as she began to place soft kisses on his face and neck. She stroked his chest, playing with a hard nipple, something he loved. The touches sent tiny little shocks of pleasure through his body, and he thought maybe he could do this. For Calla, and himself.

Pleasure warred against the fear. Nick cocked his head, presenting his neck, and tried to ignore how his blood pressure shot through the roof.

“Relax,” she said, smoothing a palm over his chest. “Your heart is racing and I can practically scent your fear.”

“I'm all right. Just do it.”

A frown creased her brow. “My claiming you shouldn't be something you have to endure.”

“I know, and I'm fine. Go ahead.” He gave her a half smile.

She smoothed a finger over his jaw, her expression so tender he could've wept. “Nick, I can't do this when you're obviously not ready. My claiming should be done with joy on both our parts—”

“Calla, I said I'm fine—”

“No, Nick. This isn't the time.”

Oh, God. Did she have any idea how emasculated he felt right now? How ashamed? He kissed her gently and slid from the bed. “I'm going to see Tarron, check on any progress with catching the vampire who took you. I'll see you later.”

Disappointment clouded her pretty features. “How much later?”

“I don't know.”

“Stay, please? Just for a while?”

She knew he was lying. It was there in her eyes, the hurt he'd caused. He could stand anything except being the cause of her pain.

“I have to go.”

With efficient movements, he dressed and left before he could change his mind. He needed time and space to figure out how to get past his fear.

Dammit, Nick, you stupid asshole.

He'd ruined a perfect morning. He'd make this up to his mate. Somehow.

*   *   *

Nick stalked to Tarron's office and knocked sharply. He waited for permission to enter before striding inside to find the prince in a meeting with two men—Teague and a vampire Nick had never met before.

“Glad you're here,” Tarron said with a genuine smile. He indicated the new vampire. “Nick, I'd like you to meet Ian Lockwood, my best friend and right hand for more years than I care to remember. He's been in England for the past few months, taking care of some personal business, and I for one am pleased to have him back. Ian, this is Nick Westfall, commander of the Alpha Pack.”

“Years? Try a couple of centuries.” The vampire stuck out his hand. “It's good to meet you. I've met some of your team as well and they seem like first-rate warriors.”

Nick couldn't help but puff his chest out a little as he shook the offered hand. “They are, every single one. They make me look good.”

“The best of men always do,” Ian acknowledged.

Nick sized up Ian. The big vampire seemed openly friendly, and yet Nick sensed a strength about him. A steely determination that hinted he'd protect what was his. Nick didn't get any visions, but he didn't have to in order to know the vampire would need that strength in the days to come.

Tarron leaned back in his chair and addressed Nick. “Speaking of our men, some of them went back to the cabin where Calla was held. They're searching for more clues and will bring us anything more they find.”

Annoyance surged inside him. “I should've been with them. I could be helping the investigation.”

“Right now, you're helping my sister, and that's more important.” Tarron's gaze telegraphed just how much weight that carried as far as he was concerned.

Nick wasn't sure how much good he was doing his new mate, considering, but wisely refrained from saying so. “She's my first priority, too, which is why I want this bastard of a vampire and his minions found and destroyed. I don't want them coming after her again, or you, for that matter.”

Tarron's expression was grim. “We'll find him and he'll be
so
fucking sorry he messed with my family. In the meantime, we need to trust our guys to bring us the information we need to locate him.”

Nick blew out a frustrated breath. “You're right, but it sucks waiting around. Who the hell is this asshole and why does he have such a hard-on for all of us?”

“That's the big money question.”

Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. Tarron called for whoever it was to enter, and the
door swung open. A few of Tarron's men, along with Micah, Aric, and Nix, strode into the room. Nix was carrying a laptop that he placed on Tarron's desk.

“We found this hidden in one of the dead hunter's bunks,” he said. “We'll need someone with hacking skills to get inside and tell us what sort of secrets might be on there. Hopefully the kind that gives us answers.”

Teague stepped up. “That would be me. Let me take a look and see what you've found.”

Those around Tarron's desk gave him room. Pulling up an extra chair, the computer expert flipped open the lid and went to work circumventing the password-protected screen.

“Most people would be appalled at how ridiculously easy it is to get into their laptops,” he said, without any smugness. “That part is child's play. The real question is, does the vampire heading up this band of misfits know what he's doing?”

“In what way?” Nick asked, curious.

“Mainly, will he have taken the precaution of coding his messages and hiding the IP address he's using as his home base of communications? Will his identity be hidden?”

“Seems like it could go either way,” Nick replied. “He hid his identity on the video, but he probably wasn't expecting us to locate the cabin, either.”

Teague worked for a few minutes, head down,
focus intense. After a while, he grunted in displeasure. “Unluckily for us, he's not that big of an idiot. The IP address is rerouted several times, so it's going to take a while to track. His messages to his followers were all done by an instant-messaging program and he used the screen name ‘Executioner.'”

Aric snorted. “
That's
original.”

Nick hovered over his shoulder, trying to read the print. “What do the messages say?”

“The spewing of hatred that you might expect. He's going to make us all pay for what we did, but no mention of what that was. If we knew what he's blaming us for, it would go a long way to figuring out who he is.” Several others muttered agreement and Teague went on.

“There are plans on here from before he had Calla taken. They were waiting on an opportunity to get Tarron, but seized the chance to get her when it arose. Hmm, there's some disagreement among the ranks as to whether that was a good idea, especially since that group was caught.”

Tarron's eyes gleamed with malice. “So, they're still using this messaging thread to discuss their plans?”

“They were, but shut it down a few hours after Calla's rescue.” The hacker paused, scanning over the rest of the transcript. “Looks like the Executioner was talking with them about their next strike, when and where it would be wise to carry
one out, when one of his men pointed out they should change to another thread because of the cabin raid. Damn!”