Taken by Moonlight (48 page)

Drew had
known of her father’s side of the family for years now. She’d met them at his
funeral, but had never reached out to them before. They hadn’t shown much of an
interest in her, either. It was sad, but after being there for those weeks she
didn’t believe she was missing much. Her father had been a crackhead, her
mother a reformed prostitute. She’d had a hard life, growing up in Bed-Stuy on
food stamps, and walking streets where gang-bangers and pimps constantly
patrolled. The one thing that had kept her sane was school. She’d gone to a
public school there, but the teachers had taken an interest, and had pushed her
hard, which in turn made her gain grades enough to attend NYU, where she’d met
Vivienne and Max.

At the
thought of Max, her heart twisted, and her body grew cold. The heat had been
turned on, and the studio was at a comfortable temperature but still Drew
shivered. She’d spoken to Vivienne in the past weeks, and on each occasion,
Vivienne had sadly conveyed she still knew nothing of Max. A day didn’t go by
when Drew didn’t think of him, wondering if he was alive, or what they were
doing to him. Her excuse of “he’s with his father” had not been able to calm
her of late, when she’d kept calling and had been told that Vivienne knew
nothing.

Drew was
saved from her thoughts when the doorbell rang. Pulling out her cell phone, she
looked at the time. Two thirty. They’d given her a nine-to-four delivery window
on Thursday. They were on time.

She pulled
the door open. “Just bring everything in—” Drew halted as her gaze landed on
two well-dressed men.

“Drew
Tierney?” the one closest to her asked, pronouncing her name in a distinctly
French way.

“Who wants
to know?” she replied, clutching the door so she could slam it if need be.

“Maximilian
Cronin,” the man responded in an easy tone of voice.

“Max—?” she
began, thinking of her Max before recognizing that these two were referring to
the father. Oh God, how had they found her? She pulled from the doorway
quickly. As she slammed the door, a boot wedged its way into the doorway.

Drew
scrambled back frantically and did the first thing that came to mind. She
screamed, knowing in her heart it was futile, but not caring.

The men
followed her, and the one who’d remained silent grabbed her around the waist
and hauled her back against him. A picture was held up beside her head and the
other man looked from the picture to her, and nodded.

“It’s her,”
he said at long last, and Drew’s terror only grew.

Oh God,
oh god, oh god.

“I don’t
know who you’re looking for,” she began, thinking to lie her way out of it.

“We’re
looking for you,” he responded, and Drew watched as his eyes, which had been a
gray color, faded to black before their entirety grew dark. It was like looking
into an abyss.

“Please. I
didn’t do anything, I won’t tell anyone….” Her words faded as her eyelids grew
heavy. Everything grew heavy.

“No, you
won’t,” the man agreed.

That was
the last she heard before the world went black.

“Conall?”

He opened
his eyes and looked down at Vivienne, lying against him. They sat outside on a
garden chair toward the end of the Cedar Creek forest. After their breakfast,
where she had once more surprised him by the amount she consumed, they’d
dressed and had taken a stroll. During that time, she’d told him she thought
the darkness within her was a part of her druid powers. He’d listened,
intrigued about that possibility, as she went over the phone calls she’d had
with her mother.

The
conversation had then turned to his family, to which Conall replied that the
pack, which she would soon belong to, was his family. In true Vivienne fashion,
she’d prodded more, wanting to know about his siblings, his parents, his blood
family. And so he’d told her most of it. He told her that his parents had been
alphas of the pack in Ireland, that when his father died, Gregory had taken
over and moved them to Scotland, where he met Sloan. When Gregory died, Sloan
had taken his position as alpha. She’d seemed about to press about his
brother’s death, but something in his expression must have told her he didn’t
want to discuss it because she only kissed his jaw, and leaned into him. They’d
remained like that for long minutes, until she called his name.

“Yes,
alainn
?”

“When is my
blood rite with Samia?”

He tensed
immediately. Damn it, he had tried hard to block that out. He and the Elders
had met a few days prior and Brennus had demanded Saturday for the rite. When
there had been no cause for opposition to that date, the Elders had agreed on
it. Conall said nothing. He hadn’t intended to. Moments before the meeting,
Zahira had asked for some time alone with him. There she’d pointed out very
important details that had gone over Conall’s angry head. If he still refused
to give Samia the blood rite, Brennus could take his pleas to the pack again,
and there was a possibly they would hurt Vivienne. The pack wasn’t stupid
enough to challenge Conall, but they might go after her, especially as she
would be seen as weak. The other thing was the lack of respect that would be
shown Vivienne as alpha bitch if she did not face Samia.

The females
were a particularly vicious bunch, and much like the males, held themselves by
rank. Samia had been a strong contender for alpha bitch, as she was able to
defeat most female opponents. If Vivienne didn’t fight her and was seen to
cower, the females in the pack would ridicule and possibly attack her. He
hadn’t thought of that, and when Zahira pointed it out, he’d felt the urge to
kick Brennus and his goddamn hell-spawn out of his pack. But it was done, the
pack had approved it and they expected a blood rite. Zahira had then pointed
out she’d been one of the people to witness Vivienne hold off Samia that day
when she’d blacked out, and his mate was strong. And so, when Brennus had
demanded Saturday, Conall had pictured himself wringing the Elder’s neck, but
he’d held his tongue.

“Vivienne,
you don’t have to fight this blood rite against Samia. You’re not a wolf and
you’re not a part of the pack. These laws don’t apply to you.” He’d listened to
Zahira, yes, but he still feared for his mate. He didn’t mind if she didn’t
win. He minded her getting hurt, and possibly killed.

She nodded
and repeated, “When’s the date?”

“Brennus
wanted Saturday,” Conall told her. “But again, it isn’t necessary. If you want
this whole thing called off, just tell me.”

Lifting her
head from his chest, she smirked up at him. “If I tell you yes, you’ll march
over to the Elders like the big bad alpha you are and tell them there’ll be no
blood rite?”

“I’ll march
over to the Elders, and the entire pack, if you want me to.”

She clucked
her tongue and chuckled. Vivienne was obviously not as worried as he.

“So
Saturday it is,” she murmured, leaning her head against his shoulder.

“Vivienne—”

“Conall,
can you do something for me?”

He sighed,
feeling the tension drain from his shoulders. Finally, she was going to tell
him she didn’t want to fight Samia, and he was going to take pleasure in
walking over to Brennus’s house and telling the Elder, and his daughter, that
they’d better not mention “blood rite” and his mate in the same sentence, or he
was going to personally throw their asses out of Cedar Creek. “Anything,
alainn
.”

“Change.”

“What?”

She pulled
away from him, moving to the further side of the chair.

“Change
into your wolf. Please.”

“That’s
all?” he asked, feeling disappointment rush his being. The tension was
returning. He could feel it.

He felt the
soft brush of her inside his mind.

Yes,
that’s all. I’ve never seen your wolf up close, Conall, and I’d like a proper
introduction.

Standing,
he stripped out of his shirt, and undid his belt.

“Slowly,
please,” Vivienne called out, and Conall lifted a brow at her. She sent him a wicked
smile and he shook his head. His mate was such a little minx. A hot little
minx. His wolf agreed.

He drew off
his pants more slowly, and she nodded in approval, leaning back in the chair as
if enjoying a particularly good show.

Clad only
in his boxers, on this particularly cold day, Conall felt a thrill of
excitement shoot up his spine, and slowly turned his back to her.

“No, no,
no—”

He tugged
his boxers off and tossed them over his shoulder. Turning, he was not at all
surprised to find her holding them.

Cheater.

He laughed.
It was so easy to tease and be teased by her. She made him forget many things,
and remember the more important ones. Family. He’d told her the pack was his
family, and it had been the truth, but she was going to be his family, the
family he took everywhere with him, because she was inside of him. And if—
when
—she
conceived for him, they would expand that family. He briefly wondered what
their children would be? Would his genes come out dominant, or hers? It didn’t
matter. He’d never thought he’d find a true mate, had always assumed he’d make
a political connection.

He turned
around, taking in her heated expression as her eyes traveled his naked length.

Calling up
his wolf, he clenched his teeth against the pleasure-mixed pain that tore
through him as muscles, joints, bones, tendons and ligaments rearranged
themselves.

How
beautiful could one man be in two different forms?
Extremely so
.

Vivienne
sighed as she watched the change occur. The bright light hid most of the change
from her, but she had seen his head go back, his neck arch out, and in the next
instant, the black wolf sat on its hindquarters, watching her.

A little
frisson of fear engulfed her before she dismissed it. Yes, he was a wolf, but
he was also Conall. She was safe.

The wolf
suddenly stood, and her heart thundered. Already tall and broad in human form,
Conall was massive as a wolf. He was likely more than four and a half feet
tall, with those yellow eyes. She guessed he weighed over one fifty pounds,
close to two hundred, which meant he could tackle and kill her. Especially with
those razor-sharp white teeth she’d glimpsed when he’d opened his mouth.

He remained
where he was for long moments, and then slowly moved toward her. It’s Conall,
she reminded herself. Conall, who could be extremely gentle when he wanted,
Conall her lover, Conall her mate. He stopped directly before her, and she
could feel his breath against her knee. And then he moved his head forward and
placed his head in her lap, closing his eyes.

Vivienne
remained still for a few seconds, before moving her fingers across his head.
His fur was so soft. She smiled, running her fingers over his cold nose, then
over his ears. He growled and she pulled her hand away, only to have him push
his head further against her. She returned her fingers to his ear, watching as
he tilted his head further into her hand, and decided that was a growl of
pleasure.

Before
long, she was on her knees, her hands buried in the thick coat of his pelt, as
she stared into those yellow eyes. Leaning forward, she kissed the top of his
head, and said, “Conall, you’re beautiful.”

A second
later, his tongue licked the side of her face, and she drew, surprised. At her
expression, his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. She laughed, knowing
he was laughing, too.

You are
the beautiful one,
alainn
.

“
Well,
if this isn’t what humans call adorable, I don’t know what is.”

Conall spun
so suddenly that Vivienne lost her balance and fell backward, landing on her butt.
She was reminded briefly of their first encounter, when she’d run into him at
the state park, when she lifted her gaze. Her smile disappeared and she sat up.
Conall was slowly circling a man. A low growl came from his throat, a sound
that was clearly a warning, as the black wolf moved with lethal grace.

“Is this
the proper way to greet the prodigal son, Conall?”

Pushing to
her feet, Vivienne trained her eyes on the wolf, whose slow and stealthy pace
had not changed. He looked like a caged jungle cat, stalking back and forth
behind iron bars, but there was no cage, and this creature was definitely no
cat. The man, whom she recognized as Rafael, was also watching Conall, turning
so as never to give Conall his back. They looked like they were gearing up for
an epic fight.

“Rafe!”
Vivienne didn’t have to look to know that Conall had halted, and trained his
burning gaze on her. She could feel his displeasure as much as if it were her
own.

“Ah yes,
Vivienne
.
You can vouch for me. Tell Conall that I was nothing but a gentleman when I
walked you home last night.”