To Love a Shifter: A Paranormal Romance Boxed Set (47 page)

His words melted her anger right away. How could she have forgotten how much Lysander had suffered because of the Great War? Rushing back to him, she tiptoed to give her friend a quick heartfelt hug. “I’m sorry, too. I’m just really troubled…” Misty pulled away. “I have something urgent to tell the High Circle, Lysander. And I need your support.”

Lysander did not want to deny Misty anything, and he
would
have readily given her anything…but this. “I will do the best I can.” He could see that he had disappointed Misty, but he did not take the words back.

His race was still his first priority because Lysander owed the realm his life.

~~~

The High Circle was unlike the Brethren or the Lyccan Council. Whereas both Caros and Lyccans selected their leaders on the basis of their power and ability to lead, it appeared as if the High Circle relied on the strength of their members’ blood. It was an oligarchy of sorts, wherein only those with the purest lineage could reign.

And of course that made the High Circle a fucking mess in Domenico’s opinion.

Personally, he had nothing against purebloods. He was one himself, with the Moretti pack one of the oldest in Lyccan history. But that did not mean Domenico considered purebloods perfect. The Fiarinos’ lineage was as pure and ancient as his was, but that pack had already produced two traitors to their race.

Domenico stood at the edge of the room, positioning himself in such a way that he would be close enough to protect Misty from any threat while at the same time being able to observe the entire room. He could see that his presence made some of the members edgy, and he couldn’t blame them. The Faeries had existed in isolation for so long that their lives had bred xenophobic tendencies among them.

And that of course was another fucking bomb waiting to explode on them.

No race could ever exist alone. Domenico could only hope that the Faeries would not need to survive another Great War to learn that.

Magenta walked to the center of the circle, raising her hand for silence. “We have been called here to listen to Misty Wall.” She gestured to Misty.

Domenico’s heart swelled with pride as he watched Misty walk slowly and gracefully to where Magenta stood, with not even a flicker of fear in her eyes as she gazed at the members one by one.

Her voice didn’t even shake as she recounted the attack they had survived last night, even as the Faeries gasped and whispered among themselves. Domenico studied every member’s attention, not ruling out the possibility that one of them could have been behind the attack.

Lysander and Milo’s faces were inscrutable. Ivory’s was filled with horror while Magenta had a concentrated frown on her face.

“And now…” Misty took a deep breath. Telling them what happened to her and Domenico was the easy part. Convincing the Faeries to act was the difficult part.

“If the Midways can be infiltrated, then how sure are we that the realm cannot be infiltrated the same way? We cannot afford to wait here and play it safe. We cannot be satisfied with merely defending our realm. We must move forward and take them by surprise. We must launch an attack, striking them when they least expect it. More lives are put at stake the longer we delay.”

“How can we attack when our soldiers are not even finished with training?” an old woman cried out.

“We have our allies,” Misty answered. “They will help us. But we cannot waste time. So many Faeries are afraid – I’ve seen it for myself – but I don’t think they’re afraid enough. I don’t think they’re taking this threat seriously enough. We need to make everyone realize that
surviving
is not a certainty. We have to work hard at learning not just how to defend ourselves. We need to learn how to attack – and if we have to, we must learn how to kill if it’s all it takes
not
to get killed.”

The woman seated at Ivory’s right said, “That’s very nicely said, Misty Wall, but how can we be very sure that you will truly represent our interests when we sign the Alliance?”

Domenico’s body became taut at the woman’s words. That was an insult as far as he was concerned, and his hand instinctively went towards the dagger he kept hidden on his body, preparing to strike down whoever dared to hurt Misty.

Lysander shot to his feet. “That is uncalled for, Arabella. Misty has never done anything to earn your distrust---”

“Likewise – she’s never done anything to earn our trust!” the woman shot back.

Lysander and Arabella stared at each other, both unwilling to back down.

Misty could feel her panic rising. She had never thought that her loyalty would become an issue, but then – wasn’t that terribly naïve of her? Of course the Faeries had the right to doubt her, and Domenico being her would only make things appear more suspicious.

Ivory cleared her throat. “If I may suggest something---”

Magenta gestured for her to speak.

“If it is only Misty’s allegiance that is troubling us then there is an easy way to resolve it.” She paused. “Well, two, actually.”

Misty didn’t want to hear it. She still didn’t like the way Ivory secretly looked at Domenico, her damsel-in-distress persona melting away as she hungrily devoured Domenico with her doe eyes.

“There is nothing to prove,” Lysander said coldly.

“There is everything to prove,” Arabella snapped. She looked at Ivory. “Go on, tell us what you feel is a good way to resolve this.”

Ivory said slowly, “If she truly feels she is a part of our race then she must seal it with something indelible.”

Every pair of eyes in the High Circle’s chamber swung to her.

Master, it is time,
Ivory thought.

Yes,
the Master hissed.
It is time.

Ivory didn’t even blink to acknowledge the Master’s answer. She said softly, “Misty can turn into a Faerie…or she could betroth herself to Lysander Allard instead.”

Domenico stood beside Misty in an instant, his heart racing with desperate fear. Yes, he had wished this. It was why he had done his best to push Misty away. But now that he was faced with the possibility of truly getting his wish---

It was impossible.

He had been a fucking fool to think he could let Misty go for a second time --- especially if it meant that another man would have her.

“Misty.” His fists clenched at his side. He wanted to spin her around so she would look at him and so he could see in her eyes what she really wanted. But he did not move. He did not want the same mistakes to happen, did not want to undermine or humiliate Misty in any way again.

Misty was torn apart inside at the dilemma she was suddenly facing.

She closed her eyes, wishing there was a way out of it but already knowing what the answer would be.

When she opened her eyes, she could feel Domenico’s body practically vibrating with tension. Her gaze strayed towards Lysander, who was also on his feet, his jaw clenched hard. Nothing gay at all about him, she mused absently, when he looked so serious.

“What do you think, Misty?” Ivory asked ever so softly.

Bitch.
That was what Misty thought of her. It was unlike her to think something like that, but it was the only word that she could think of.

“I, too, am interested to hear what you have to say,” Magenta said slowly, almost reluctantly.

Misty lifted her chin. “I am willing to betroth myself to Lysander Allard if he takes---”

Lysander cut her off with four simple words. “I will marry you.”

“Wait!” Misty anxiously went after Domenico, who had stalked out of the High Circle’s chamber the moment the meeting ended.

But still he continued to walk farther and farther away from her, as if not hearing her call out his name repeatedly.

“Domenico, wait!” But he was too fast and she knew it would be impossible to catch up with him. She stood there, hesitating, and decided impulsively that there was nothing to lose if she tried to be as manipulative as Domenico was.

“Oww!” Misty pretended to trip and began hobbling away for good measure.

Domenico was by her side in an instant.

She pushed him away. “No!”

“Don’t be stubborn.”

“Go away!”

“Let me just take you to your house,” he said as he swept her up in his arms.

“I don’t need you to do this.”

“Don’t worry,” Domenico said coolly. “I’ll leave you the moment I get you into your house safely.”

Misty kept herself stiff in his arms all the way to her house. “You can let me down now,” she muttered when they reached her front door.

Domenico didn’t even bother to answer her, simply turning the knob and letting himself inside. When he started for her room, she took that as her cue to start struggling.

“Stop it!” Domenico did his best to maintain an unemotional tone even though his emotions were raging inside him. Last night she had been practically begging for his company and now she couldn’t bear his touch? What the fuck? Did this mean she had been stringing him all along, and now she was going to fucking kick him out of her life because she could finally have Lysander Allard?

“Put me down! I can do this.” She struggled harder as they reached her bedroom.

The contempt in her tone made Domenico so furious that he strode into her room, intent on taking her to bed when all he wanted to do originally was get her into the bedroom.

Misty made her move the moment Domenico lowered her to the bed. She pulled him down, taking him by surprise, and she wrapped herself around him as her lips covered his.

Domenico stiffened.

She kissed him harder, willing him to open his lips even as she pressed herself against him closer, her nipples pricking his chest.

Domenico tried to pull away. “What the fuck---”

Misty pulled him back and kissed him again, more desperately this time, trying to communicate without words how much she loved him. She could have wept the moment she realized he had given in, his lips finally opening, and his tongue coming out to taste her. Immediately he became the aggressor and she joyously surrendered herself to him, loving the way he took command.

Domenico tore their clothes away, and Misty was glad that he did so. She was just as feverish as he was in her need, and she moaned loud and long when he came back to her, their naked bodies brushing against each other.

“You’re soaking wet,” he gritted out as his fingers came in contact with her moist sex.

She arched herself invitingly towards him, shamelessly rubbing her core against his long, hard fingers. Misty moaned again as Domenico’s lips moved down, sucking her neck, biting her shoulder, licking her chest, and she cried out at the sharp pleasure that struck her body when Domenico cupped one breast to feed him her nipple.

She gripped his hair tightly just as she pushed herself up. Domenico obligingly followed her silent demand, sucking her nipple harder and she twisted under him, loving the exquisite torture that his mouth wreaked on her body. Below, his fingers continued to play with her folds, tracing but not quite entering. She parted her legs wide open, hoping she could get his fingers inside but still Domenico resisted, as if determined to prolong her sensual agony.

“Misty.” He couldn’t help growling her name as his thumb brushed back and forth against her clit.

She dug her nails into his shoulders in answer.

His body bucked at the sensation, and his fingers slid home.

Misty gasped, and the sound was the most beautiful thing he had heard in a long time.

“Tell me you want me.” Domenico was stunned when she shook her head.

And then her lips parted.
I love you,
she mouthed instead.

“
Fuck.”
Domenico pulled his fingers free so he could wet his cock, lining the folds of her flesh and making sure that the head of his cock rhythmically nudged her clit.

She gasped.

Their eyes met.
I love you.

He groaned, desire taking over, his control snapping. He shoved his cock all the way in, his hands moving under her body to grip her beautiful tight ass and lifting her up so he could enter her more deeply.

Misty gasped, biting her lip to stop herself from crying out his name. She closed her eyes at the beauty of it, at the
remembered
beauty of it, and she cried because now she knew that this meant the same thing for them both.

She cupped his face, crying.
I love you.

His green eyes burning fiercely as he gazed down at her, he mouthed,
I love you.

Oh.

Misty’s body shuddered. Never had she imagined he would say the words back this early and without even questioning her after she had just promised to betroth herself to another man. She pulled him back down, loving the familiar heavy press of his weight. She dug her nails into his ass, urging him to move.

Domenico needed no second urging, and she closed her eyes again, biting her lip to keep herself from screaming at the pleasure of Domenico’s fast and furious pounding.
More, please, more.
And Domenico obliged, his cock thrusting in and out of her like an unstoppable force.

Domenico felt so thick, so wonderfully hard, and it had been so unbearably long that Misty knew she was moments away from coming.
Oh, please, harder, faster, please.

Domenico bent his head down, teeth clamping onto her nipple, biting it the same time his fingers pinched her clit and his cock entered her in another earth-shatteringly hard thrust.

Misty’s lips parted in a silent scream as she exploded. Domenico’s hips moved faster, coming just a moment later, his own body shuddering on top of her as he pumped his cum into her. She shivered, the warmth of his essence filling her. She wrapped her legs more tightly around him, wanting to keep everything of Domenico inside her.

Domenico lifted his head.

She gazed at him, still not speaking.

Resting his weight on one bent arm, he lifted his hand to push wet strands of her hair away. And then he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead.
I love you.
His lips brushing against her cheek told her that, and tears stung her eyes.

Domenico felt her fingers graze his back. They started to move.

T.R.U.S.T.

The fingers paused.

M.E.

His heart clenched. For almost his entire life, he had trusted no one, choosing to depend on himself alone because his father’s childhood betrayal had cut him deeply. But his life had changed when Misty came into it. She had taught him to forgive, to love, and yes, to trust.

One large part of him was filled with fear. What if this was all an elaborate plan for Misty to take her revenge on him? It was not an entirely far-fetched idea, considering how much he had hurt her.

But there was also the part of him that wanted her back, at any cost. If risking his pride, his heart --- even his life --- would give Domenico the chance to have her back again, then so be it.

Misty couldn’t help tensing when Domenico pulled away.

Their gazes locked.

Slowly, he nodded. She choked back a sob. He was going to trust her.

~~~

Misty woke up early. For a moment she allowed herself to remember last night’s lovemaking, her body aching in remembered need and her heart nearly bursting as she imagined Domenico, naked on top of her, his beautiful face rapt in attention with her as he silently told her he loved her.

She closed her eyes.

Domenico Moretti loved her.

This time, she truly believed it.

And this time, she was going to do her best to protect that love.

She opened her eyes, tracing the pillow that had cradled Domenico’s head when he slept next to her. But Domenico had left in the middle of the night, knowing without her telling him that it was best to keep their reunion a secret.

Misty’s fingers encountered something under the pillow and she pulled out a note.

Will you marry me again? – D

She wanted to cry.
Soon, Domenico, soon.

Last night had been the only way to convince Domenico that she had a plan. But Misty dared not say it out loud, some kind of sixth sense telling her that the realm of the Faeries was no longer the safe haven it once was. The walls had ears now, and news had wings tainted with betrayal. Treachery was afoot – but she knew it would be stupid to say anything unless she had actual proof.

After a quick shower and breakfast, Misty began searching for Lysander and found him minutes later practicing at the courtyard. For a while, she frowned while observing his movements. He looked less and less gay these days, and she wondered why it was so. Did he feel he had to pretend he was a man so that their so-called betrothal would be more believable? Misty didn’t have to be told of how ambitious Lysander was, of how dedicated he was to his race. If he thought a betrothal to her would better his chances of leading the High Circle then he would take it.

Lysander finally noticed her standing at the edge of the courtyard. He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He laughed when she lifted a lace parasol up and snapped it open.

“You are a little too late in protecting me from the sun today,” he said wryly.

“I would have been here earlier if you had told me you were finally going to practice with your sword.” She paused. “You look more at home using it than I imagined, though.”

“Every Faerie is a born swordsman…or swordswoman.”

Misty nodded although to her that didn’t ring quite true.

Lysander tipped her chin up. “You look different.”