Blood of the Wolf (5 page)

He took a deep breath and looked at the ground. In the face of what she’d told him, how could he tell her that he’d been scared she’d reject him? That he loved her more than anything—anyone! She was everything to him.

She punched him hard in the shoulder, knocking him out of his thoughts.

“I was your
wife
,” she yelled.

His gaze shot up. “You
are
my wife.”

Her head tilted slightly to the side, and her eyebrows inched up slightly. A bitter smile mocked him. “No,” she said. “You’re dead. I’m a widow. You lost your rights when you deserted me.”

“Meda, don’t do this.”

“I’m not the one who ‘did this’,” she nearly screeched. “You left me alone. You let me mourn for you—do you know how much that hurt, knowing the man I loved more than my next breath had died? That I’d never touch him again—”

“I’m here,” he interrupted, pleading.

She shook her head. “You’re dead. We can’t go back.”

Possessiveness speared deep into his core. “You’re still mine. You haven’t been with another man. I can tell—”

“Yet,” she snapped. Turning on her heel, she marched for the door.

“You’re my wife,” he yelled.

Maks chose that moment to return.
This isn’t going well, Wolf. We’ll get you ‘undead’. Niko can do it in a snap. She’ll still belong to you.

She does anyway
. Lucan clenched his teeth, and a proprietary howl clawed at his chest. Meda was his!

“Meda,” Maks said, redirecting her attention. Lucan wanted to growl at the man’s smile. His scion would never try to steal her, but at the moment, Lucan felt like a rabid dog. With a massive strength of will, he forced back his hackles and tried to relax as Maks guided Meda back to the bed. “Let’s get you lying down, and I’ll get your arm fixed up. Were you hit anywhere else?”

“No,” she answered.

My woman. My woman. Mine,
Lucan’s head screamed, as he shoved his hands into his pockets to keep himself back.

Yeah, I know,
Maks retorted drily
. Dial it down, would ya? You’re gonna give me a headache.

After Maks had her reclining, he turned. “Lucan, I need you in the kitchen.”

Meda shot upright, panic in her face. Despite her anger, she grabbed Lucan’s arm. “Don’t you leave me, Lucan. Don’t you…” She trailed off, the lost look on her face skewering him. “You’d better not leave me,” she whispered.

“It will just be a moment,” Maks soothed, easing her back against the pillows once more. “I don’t know my way around his kitchen, and I need him to help me with this, uh, medicine. You need to stay in bed and rest. He’ll be right back.”

Her teeth sank into her lip and she nodded. Her arms defensively crossed over her chest.

Lucan turned to his scion. “Maybe I should stay.”

“For God’s sake, Lucan,” Maks breathed. He shoved him toward the door.
I need your blood for this elixir!

“My blood?” Lucan asked once they were in the hallway, the door closed behind them. Partway down the corridor, Maks stopped beside an alcove table, and Lucan spied a cup and a large vial set out on the shiny surface. The healer withdrew a dagger from his jacket. “Do you really want anyone else’s blood flowing through her?”

Immediately, Lucan held out his wrist. His would be the only blood she’d have.

“I didn’t think so,” Maks said. He opened the vial and poured the amber liquid into the cup. “The mate marker in her genetics will make healing her much easier.”

Though Lucan was thankful the marker would hasten her recovery, he didn’t care if she had the correct signifier or not. He loved her.

“Your blood will activate the potion,” Maks continued. “Then it will interact with her system to quickly heal the burn. Just don’t drink any of her blood in the next twenty-four hours, or you’ll inadvertently change her without her consent.” He pressed the silver knife to Lucan’s wrist. “Now focus. You can’t shift when the pain hits or the wound will close before we get what we need.”

Lucan thought of Meda. The child they’d lost. The time they couldn’t recover. The razor-sharp blade was nothing in comparison to what he’d done to her. He deserved any pain doled out to him.

Maks pulled Lucan’s hand over the cup and squeezed until he decided enough blood had joined the mixture in the cup. The potion bubbled, and Maks murmured a few words, passing his palm over it to imbue the Dragon magic that added power to the concoction.

“All set,” he said.

Lucan nodded, his wrist already healed. He was still a bit uncomfortable with supernatural aspects of this existence. It had been part of his life for the past four years, but it remained foreign to his human-taught brain.

He followed his scion into the bedroom where Meda had gotten up and was examining the room.

“Meda,” he said, getting her attention. She surprised him by walking straight into his arms. She hugged him tight, pressing her lips to the middle of his chest.

“You have a picture of us on your dresser. The same one I have at home.”

“During my first change, before you knew about the accident, my older brother sent Maks to our house. You were at work. He made copies of some of the photos, hoping to make me feel better.”

“But they didn’t,” she said, obviously picking up on a bitter note in his voice.

“Tokens of our life together weren’t the same as being with you. Really, they just hurt.”

“Let’s get this medicine in you,” Maks interrupted. “You two can talk after I’m gone.”

He handed her the cup. Meda looked at Lucan, and he nodded. “It’s safe. No one here would ever hurt you.”

Clearly unsure, she looked at the concoction she’d been handed then sniffed it. “Fruity… Something else…”

“Herbs,” Maks supplied.

“Do you want me to drink from it first?” Lucan asked.

She shook her head. “No. You wouldn’t have saved me from the fire and that…thing…if you meant to kill me.”

“A Djinn.”

“Whatever it was.” She took a deep breath then brought the cup to her lips and gulped down its contents. Afterward, she made a face. “Tastes like pennies.”

Maks raised an eyebrow. “Suck on pennies often, do you?”

Lucan shoved him. “Get out of here.”

“Fine, fine, fine. Use me, then kick me out.” Maks gathered up his things while Lucan turned to Meda. He lifted the fabric away from her wound and watched as it healed before their eyes, much like ice quickly melting in the sunlight.

“Oh my God,” Meda murmured.

“Even though I’ve seen this a few time, I still think it’s pretty cool,” Lucan answered.

Night, Wolf,
Maks called telepathically as he left the room.

“Why did he call you Wolf?” she asked. “Wait! Why could I hear him in my head?”

Lucan paused, blinked then stared at her. She could hear Maks?

“It was the potion. It’ll wear off…I think,” he told her.
I hope.
He’d never heard of a mate gaining the ability to hear her partner’s wingscion. That could be bad. Very bad.

“Good. I don’t want to hear inside some strange guy’s head. Your thoughts could be interesting. I mean…wouldn’t I like to hear inside your head? I’m sure, there might be another asinine explanation as to why you’ve done this—” She pointed at him. “And I’m not even close to forgiving you, so don’t think I am.”

“You’re babbling,” he said. She did that when she was overwhelmed.

“Hmph,” she replied. “Look. I…I’m crazy to say this, and womankind would probably revoke my emancipated girl card if they heard me say this, but I don’t want to argue with you. I just want to hold you.” Her eyes dark with soft desire, she stepped into his arms. They gratefully closed around her while she pressed her ear over his heart. She sighed and close her eyes. Her hands smoothed along his lower back. “We’ll fight later.”

Chapter Four

Meda relaxed against Lucan as she pushed back her hurt and fury and acknowledged the lame explanation he’d given her. He seemed gutted by the separation and by the miscarriage, completely remorseful for her pain. Shouldn’t she try to look at things from his point of view before she made a final judgment? She didn’t understand this world he’d been cast into. Her instincts told her she’d leave him when she had the chance. Still, her fractured heart begged her to take this intimacy with him and think later.

“Why do they call you Wolf?” she asked. The solid beating of his heart rocked through her, assuring her of his vitality. “Is it because you have a pack of women hidden away someplace?”

“You’re my only woman,” he growled.

“I’m not yours,” she whispered.

“Wanna bet on that? I’ll win,” he rasped.

She gasped at his tone, deep, growly and possessive.

His fingers speared into her hair. He angled her head, bending her to his hungry kiss. The sensation of his firm lips shot through her to knot in her belly. He consumed her, his mouth pressing hers open before his tongue surged inside to reclaim her.

Long dormant arousal shifted in her pelvis. The first tremor took her by surprise then pushed her on as her pulse began to race. A low flame kindled and a rush of moisture dampened her pussy. Sweet lord, please!

She’d never thought to feel his solid body moving against her again. To feel his large, slightly callused hands stroking over her skin. To hear his deep, velvety voice saying her name. Growling it.

She’d have him. There was no question that she’d let him take her body, but after that… She wasn’t sure she could trust him again. The last time he’d had her heart, it had been pulverized.

“Why do they call you Wolf?” she asked again, trying to get her footing in an avalanche of emotion. She pushed out of his arms, breathing deeply. “I mean you’re a dragon or something—God, that is so weird to say.” She rubbed her hands over her face. This was all so nuts. “Calling a dragon Wolf makes no sense.”

His gaze bore into her as he followed the steps she’d taken, not letting her more than an arm’s length from him.

“No, not really. When I came here, I couldn’t stand being around people. Everything I knew and wanted had been ripped from me and this is, well, you have to admit…it’s weird and really outside the realm of what you and I believed was possible. I was alone, even with my new family. My brother, Niko, called me ‘the lone wolf’, and it stuck. Only now, mostly, they just call me Wolf.”

“I like Lucan better,” she said as he crowded her to the bed. His yellow-flecked, green eyes certainly appeared wolf-like as he stalked her then tumbled her backward onto the mattress. Immediately, he straddled her hips and leaned over her. His fingers burrowed into her hair as he brought his mouth to hers. Her lips parted and his tongue slipped inside, tasting the place that had always belonged to him.

Meda trembled at his touch. Just his presence after so long nearly brought her to climax. Her whole being seemed to fold in on itself, until there was nothing but the sharp point of passion for this man. Nothing mattered but his hands on her, his lips covering hers, his essence filling the air she breathed. His palm cupped her breast, and she gasped. She felt him grin against her mouth while his fingers rolled the needy peak through her shirt, drawing sonorous groans from deep in her chest.

Tiny bolts of lightning seemed to skate over her skin. Had it always been like this? So electric and urgent?

“Yes,” she hissed as he pulled open her blouse. She couldn’t account for her desire to have him rip the material from her. She just needed him now. Her pussy was damp with that need. She felt it as she moved beneath him, straining for contact with the hard ridge of his desire. It didn’t really matter what she’d said to him earlier or what might happen later. This was her husband. Right now she needed him in her. Deep. Pounding. Proving he was alive.

He pulled down one bra cup and latched onto her nipple , drawing hard while his fingers fumbled for the fastener on her jeans. The fabric parted, and his palm skimmed over the nylon barrier of her panties. His hand hovered there, not quite touching as she nearly screamed for him to get on with it.

“Tell me it’s okay,” he said.

“If you don’t get on with it, I swear I’ll kill you,” she gritted out.

His eyes seemed to turn reptilian, his pupils looking more like slits than circles, then animal hunger filled his stare. A growl, low and menacing, rolled from his throat as his grip fisted in the fabric at her waistband.

“Do it. Lucan, please,” she begged. “Yes,” she cried at the hiss of rending material that followed as her panties were destroyed. His fingers shot over her folds, parting her then rasping possessively over her clit. The movement emphasized how wet she was, as he slid easily over her. He circled her opening with his fingertip while her channel clenched with the need for more. She needed him in her. No teasing. No delaying. No recriminations over anything that had happened.