Hour of the Lion (The Wild Hunt Legacy #1) (14 page)

tight. Burning for more. And then one hard finger eased inside her. She gasped as nerves

wakened within her. His thick knuckle rubbed against her opening, sending sensation unfurling.

She couldn‘t catch her breath as her hips jerked with every slide of his finger, of his tongue.

His finger stroked her inside; outside, his tongue never left her clitoris, circling the spot, never

touching the top.

Her whole world wavered, tightening, tightening, suspended in the black space of need.

And then his lips closed over her and he...sucked. His tongue slid over her clit, the very top,

and a grenade of sensation turned the room white and blew her to pieces.

His vixen was a screamer, Alec thought as she spasmed around his finger, her hips bucking

against his face. Under his tongue, her clit softened, and he teased it, enjoying the way she

clenched with each stroke. She hadn‘t wanted to lose control—he‘d seen that clearly—but when

she did, she was glorious.

As her shuddering slowed, he eased his finger out, smiling at how slick she was and how her

scent had sweetened with her climax. ―By Herne, you taste like the finest honey.‖ After a final

lick that elicited only a tiny quiver, he moved back up her body.

Her arms lay limp at her sides, and he grinned, his scalp tender from her tugging on his hair.

He‘d never enjoyed anything so much in his life as sliding past her desire to control

everything...and making her come. He kissed her lightly. ―You‘re beautiful, Vicki,‖ he

whispered.

When she blinked in surprise, then smiled in pleasure, his heart squeezed. Her tough attitude

covered up such tender feelings. The discovery made him want her all the more.

He settled between her legs and pressed his cock lightly against her slick entrance. By

Herne, he needed to be in her. Her eyes widened, and then he sheathed himself, all the way home

in one move.

Back arching, she clenched. ―Oh God!‖

―No, just Alec.‖ She was hot. Tight. He closed his eyes, not moving, simply savoring the

squeeze of her pussy around him, letting her accustom to his size.

―I like how you feel.‖ Her voice was husky, the sound pulling him down to take her mouth

and pillage those soft, swollen lips.

When he rubbed his chest across her breasts, her nipples hardened to points at the friction.

Finally, unable to hold out any longer, he started to thrust, the feeling rich and good.

She ran her hands up his back, played with his hair, obviously starting to regain her senses.

Couldn‘t have that. He kissed her again, smiled against her lips, and raised his hips enough to

allow his hand down below. When his fingers touched her clitoris, she gasped, and her inside

muscles tightened around him so quickly he almost lost control. Herne help him.

As he set up a hard rhythm, her eyes unfocused. Her hands closed on his shoulders. With

each thrust, he slid a wet finger across her sensitive flesh, and suddenly her hips were pumping

with real urgency.

―God, Alec, I don‘t need… I already…‖

Oh, but he needed. He needed to feel her spasm around him, to see her overwhelmed again.

―Shhh.‖ He took her mouth and drove hard as her heat tightened. She met him thrust for thrust,

pressing him to go faster. Too fast. Gripping her ass, he slowed her rhythm, rotating his hips

instead. Her muscles quivered, and he surged deeper.

Her breath puffed hot and fast against his neck as little moans escaped her. He gritted his

teeth and slowed further, feeling each inch going in, each inch withdrawing, the finest sensation

known to a male. Again, and again.

Her fingers dug into his shoulders. ―Alec, please... Please…‖

Her thigh muscles were quivering, her pussy tight around him. She was close. Pulling her

hips up to meet his, he plunged, deeper, harder, and her wail filled the room.

As she spasmed, every muscle in his body tightened. His balls drew up tight to his groin as

if someone had them in a firm grip. Another hard thrust and his release blew through him, white-

hot pressure from deep inside as he poured himself into her. As her hips lifted up to him, her

pussy billowed against his shaft, drawing out the last drop.

Heart pounding, he rested on his elbows, studying her flushed face and the pulse hammering

in her neck. She was warm around him, soft under him. Just another female…yet this joining felt

different. Her body under his hands felt just right, his release more satisfying. Fulfilling. How

could that be?

He kissed her gently. They were yet joined when he rolled, placing her taut little body on top

where he could let his hands stroke over her soft, damp skin. A mountain rescue of two young

hikers had left him exhausted, but after a short rest, he damn well intended to have her again and

collect some sweet screams.

* * *

―Cosantir, we need your help.‖ The whisper came from outside the small Gathering room

where Calum lay sprawled over Ursula‘s naked body. Although he‘d felt oddly unenthusiastic

this Gathering, Ursula had nagged, and he‘d finally relented and brought her upstairs. The scent

of her arousal had sparked his own, and the joining had been adequate, if not fulfilling.

She murmured drowsily as he withdrew and rose. After pulling on his clothes, he slipped out

of the room.

Karen waited in the hallway, her face shiny with sweat, almost whining with impatience.

―Tell me what is wrong,‖ he said in a low voice.

―A fight, Cosantir,‖ she choked out. ―Farrah went outside with the two males she had

chosen Chad and Patrick. An out-of-territory male followed them to the south clearing and

started a fight.‖

She grabbed his arm. ―They‘re fighting as animals, and the guy‘s a grizzly and Chad‘s only

a little wolf. He‘s hurting him.‖

Bloody hell. Calum ran down the stairs. The normally locked door to the portals stood

propped open for Gathering. Down into the cave, out onto the mountain. The night wind blew

cold against his skin, still warm from mating.

Growls and pain-filled yelps came from ahead. The males were indeed fighting in animal

form.

When he reached the clearing, he snarled. Up on hind legs, a seven-foot grizzly swung its

arms at a wolf. Near the trees, Farrah was crying hysterically and clinging to Patrick. Karen ran

across to join them.

The scents of anger and fear—and blood—hung heavy in the air. The wolf limped from a

badly mangled hind leg and tried to retreat, but the stranger kept advancing. Wanting the kill.

Not on my mountain. ―By Herne, you will halt!‖ The command backed by the God‘s power

hit the two animals. Stunned, they dropped to their haunches, shaking their heads. Calum

motioned for Patrick to pull Chad out of danger.

The unknown grizzly remained in the center of the clearing, trying to regain its feet.

The bear growled when Calum grabbed it by the scruff of its neck. ―Trawsfur,‖ Calum

ordered, sending power into the animal. The tingle of shift and the touch of Herne mingled and

then he threw the naked stranger, now in human form, sprawling on the ground.

The man was big, well-muscled, with dark hair and dark eyes. He pushed to his feet,

wobbling slightly.

―Karen, the Healer‘s inside. Get him, please,‖ Calum said, then stared at the stranger. Rage

tightened his voice. ―Your name?‖

―I‘m hurt,‖ the male whined, holding out an arm with bite marks across it. Shallow

punctures, Calum noted. Chad had obeyed the Law of the Fight and done no permanent damage.

―Name,‖ Calum repeated, and his anger finally registered, for the stranger dropped to his

knees.

―I… Andy. Andy Schoenberg. From Rainier Territory.‖

―Do the Elders in your Territory not instruct their clan in the Laws?‖

When Schoenberg cringed guiltily, repugnance roiled in Calum‘s gut. Had the shifter no

pride?

―I see you know the Law. Look at your opponent.‖ Calum pointed across the clearing. The

wolf‘s savaged leg was black with blood, and exposed bone glinted in the moonlight. ―Do you

have aught to say in your defense?

―She was ignoring me. I-I just wanted… I thought she‘d choose me if I won.‖ His shoulders

sagged. ―No.‖

―Then this doom I pronounce upon you. Marked as outcast, you will be shunned by shifters

and OtherFolk until the marks of banishment are gone.‖

Someone ran past the door. Vic roused. Beside her, Alec slept, sprawled over the green

cushions. The reddish glow of the dying fire highlighted the long line of muscle down his back,

the tight curve of his buttocks. He was absolutely beautiful.

And she was absolutely terrified. What the hell have I done?

A quick fuck wouldn‘t have been a problem. No strings, no regrets, no future. This...this

hadn‘t been a simple fuck. He hadn‘t permitted her to keep it that—and he‘d not only satisfied

her as no man had before, he‘d touched a part of her she kept well-hidden. He‘d created a tie

between them, a connection where she‘d had none. He‘d become more than just—

In the hall, a woman spoke, and Vic tilted her head, trying to hear. ―…need you. Chad‘s

been hurt. His wolf was no match for a werebear. Calum‘s out there now.‖

Vic‘s breath hitched. Wolf? Werebear? Lachlan hadn‘t mentioned other animals. God, what

were these people? A chill ran through her body, driving the sweet lethargy away. She glanced at Alec. They‘d had a...fun interlude, but it was over.

Dammit, she should have told Wells. But she hadn‘t, so it was up to her to investigate. Her

duty stood before her.

Duty sucks. With a silent sigh, she rose and soundlessly pulled on her jeans and shirt. She

froze as Alec‘s breathing paused and resumed.

The hall was empty. Shoes in hand, she tiptoed down the stairs and followed the footsteps

that seemed to have headed toward the back exit. But before the end of the hall, the door with

industrial-strength locks stood open, and candles lit the tiny room. She stepped inside and pulled

the door closed behind her. A gun safe occupied one corner of a small sitting room. Over the

couch, a moose‘s antlered head held two weapons. Vic walked closer and stopped, stunned. One

was an antique Enfield that probably dated back to the Civil War, and the other a black-powder

Shenandoah from even earlier. Lovely, lovely rifles.

No wonder Calum kept the room locked. Not only to keep his customers from stealing, but

also for Jamie‘s safety. Nothing ... otherworldly… was in here. The relief was like a wave of warmth in the Arctic, and with it came the urge to climb back up the stairs and join Alec for a—

No, this didn‘t explain that conversation upstairs. As she frowned, a cold draft whispered

against her face...in a windowless room with the door closed? She moved toward the closet,

breathed in the frigid, dank air, and saw an opening in the back behind the hanging clothing. A

secret door.

Oh hell, Calum must be part of this shifter stuff. Would have to be. Disappointment sliced

through her heart like a dull knife.

No. An agent doesn‘t have a heart; Wells had told her that again and again. A spy has only

duty, and that duty now compelled her feet down the stone steps and into a cave as cold as the

hollow left in her chest.

Pale moonlight spilled over the forest outside the cave. After a quick glance, Vic stepped out

cautiously. No one was around, although anyone could lurk unseen under the dark trees. So

where was the action?

As the chill wind tugged at her hair and clothing, she listened . There. Voices, not far away.

After smearing dirt on her too-white face, she headed in that direction, grateful the carpet of pine

needles silenced her footsteps. The moonlight brightened, washing over the people inside a

clearing. Vic crouched behind a tree, edged out far enough to watch, and saw Calum. From the

look on his hard face, he was royally pissed-off. Now why do I think I‟m not going to like the end of this party?

He stood over a naked man with a bleeding arm. Under the trees, a man and two women

bent over a— oh, fuck, damn, shit—over a wolf. The animal lay on its side, panting. Dark blood covered one gray-furred leg. Some orgy you throw, Calum.

But this party had gone seriously bad. Calum‘s face had set in dangerous lines, and when he

spoke—damned if he wasn‘t acting like some judge. Not only did the others let him, but the

shivering wussy actually knelt. Calum grabbed the man‘s hair and said, ―Trawsfur‖ in an icy

voice that sent shivers through Vic.

The man blurred—Vic‘s teeth clenched. She remembered that weird shimmer. Oh God. A

bear. The man had turned into a fucking grizzly bear. Vic stuffed her fist against her mouth to keep from whimpering like a terrified puppy. She‘d seen men beaten, knifed, blown up, but this

turning into animals was waaaaay out of her league.

Calum stripped, and her momentary admiration disappeared when his figure blurred. Oh,

please, not again. A huge panther took his place, one that made Lachlan‘s animal seem a midget.

The cat‘s short-haired pelt was brown, paler on the belly. Its tail lashed back and forth; its eyes

flashed gold in the moonlight. Vic closed her eyes, opened them, her lips silently moving, ―No,

this is so not happening.‖

She jumped when Calum—the cat—slashed the bear‘s muzzle open. The poor bear just took

it. As the grizzly staggered across the clearing, all the people-shaped people turned their heads