The Last Werewolf Bride Complete Trilogy (2 page)

“You were born of a woman promised to the
leader of the Pacifics, a coastal werewolf pack. He had not yet
taken her as his mate when a war broke out between all the packs in
the western hemisphere. It was fought for the usual reasons wars
are fought; territory, insults. It was a long and bloody struggle.
Many were eviscerated. Your mother’s betrothed was among those
killed. You see, the Caprese family was one of three remaining
bride bloodlines, having produced alpha queens for a millennia.
Strong queens whose bodies were built for pleasure and for
breeding.” Marcus paused. His eyes lowered. “Your mother had three
sisters who all perished, killed by jealous enemies. One was to be
the bride of my uncle, a tough but reckless alpha. Many of the Dark
Claws were lost in the savage attacks under his leadership.” He
sighed sadly, his dark eyes seeming to see the bloody deaths
playing out there on the ceramic tile. “The packs were so battle
weary and reduced that a whole generation had to pass before we
began to rise again. All the remaining bride bloodlines were lost
in the war. Or so we thought. Your mother escaped and lived long
enough to bear a daughter. You, Jessa. You will be my mate, my
bride, my queen.”

Marcus looked at me expectantly. I tried to
find some words. “So, I’m a …sort of werewolf princess?”

Marcus frowned. “It isn’t funny.”

“I’m not laughing.” But then I did laugh; long
raucous giggling born out of shock and pleasure and the attempted
mental absorption of this odd story because despite all my sense
telling me otherwise, I knew it was true. I knew it as well as I
knew the soft planes of my own breasts and the curl of my long
brown hair.

Marcus, however, decided to regard my sudden
mirth as an expression of doubt. He stood full and tall and let the
towel drop away. The change was so abrupt I scarcely had time to
register his glower when his stunning face faded into a bristling
hulk of wild animal. The wolf which had been Marcus stared at me
fixedly with bright feral eyes. Perhaps he expected me to scream
but I did not. I made no noise, nodding slightly.

With the ease of a breath Marcus had returned.
His mouth was twisted in a wry grin. “I knew you were worth
fighting for, Jessa.”

He’d mentioned earlier that I had been wanted
by many. I wondered what he had meant. As far as I knew tonight was
the first time I had ever been wanted by anyone. I asked
him.

Marcus nodded. “When The Seer appeared at The
Gathering-“

I shook my head. “When the who appeared at the
what?”

He spread his hands. “Sorry, Jessa. I forgot
you don’t know the terminology.” Marcus sat on the closed toilet
seat and stroked his chin, thoughtful. He had not replaced the
towel. “The Seer is an immortal guide to all the creatures of the
underworld. And Jessa, there are many. You will learn of them all.
The Gathering occurs only once every five years. It’s, well, it’s
just that, a gathering…” Marcus struggled to explain realities
which must have been known to him from birth. “Sort of like a huge
family reunion for werewolves. Except some of us don’t like get
along very well.”

I smiled. “Then it’s exactly like a family
reunion.”

He grinned back. “So be it. Anyway, the Seer
told of a girl from his visions. She was shy, studious. She did not
know her worth.” Marcus brushed a curl away from my forehead. “She
was the lone survivor of the Caprese line. She was a lost queen.
The alpha who won her as a mate would be most fortunate for she
would breed the future.” He cupped my chin and kissed my lips
gently. “It’s you, Jessa.”

Marcus backed away and squinted. He pointed to
a long scar on his tanned shoulder. “You see this mark? It’s a
worthy scar. The Seer demanded a civilized fight. Whichever alpha
emerged as the victor would lay claim to the last
bride.”

I leaned out of the tub and let my finger
trace the jagged outline of the wound, which was still healing.
“And you won.”

Marcus looked at me. I realized my breasts
were draped over the side of the bathtub. The length of male flesh
between his legs began to rise. “And I won.”

Perhaps it wasn’t very feminist of me, but I
reveled in being carried back to the bedroom. It was intoxicating.
I could never have fathomed being the grand prize to a secret race
of wild creatures. But still…I recalled the recognition I felt when
first I had heard Marcus’s words. I scarcely remembered my mother.
She was a blur of soft skin and thick brown hair. But she used to
sing me a song every night before bedtime. I could not recall it in
its entirety but the last line came to my lips now.

“Until my wolf can claim me.”

Marcus paused and raised an eyebrow. “You know
it? It was the prayer recited by young girls of the bloodlines,
girls who are destined to be alpha queens.” He glanced at the bed
and changed his mind, settling me on the futon.

I looked at him expectantly. “Wolves like
red,” he explained, licking me playfully on the neck before rising.
He stood before me. He was a majestic picture and he knew it. Every
inch of his flesh was taut and muscled. He seemed to enjoy my
silent appreciation. The pleasure center of his body rose in front
of my eyes until it seemed to be straining of its own accord to
find the tight cavern of its longing. Marcus’s voice was rough with
the strain of passion. “Jessa, you will be my mate, the queen of
the Dark Claws. But ours will not be a mortal marriage.” I gasped
as he abruptly grabbed each of my thighs and pulled them apart,
arching me upward to meet the grasping member which reached
hungrily. He paused. “I desire you to have pleasure.” His hard
organ crashed into my tight slit like an iron cannon. “And I will
always demand you offer me the same.”

He buried himself inside so deeply I was sure
my body could not bear it. Yet there it was again…the warm curl of
bliss which extended like a ripening flower. He rocked my hips. He
was rough. He was merciless. I loved every second of it. I extended
my arms over my head and shrieked as the wave of delight washed
over every feminine sensor and left me shaking with its
power.

All my ignorant daydreams about being filled
by ordinary human copulation crashed into oblivion as he possessed
me. I screamed his name. I screamed my name.

He pulled out before finishing. My hot center
felt like a giant wet bruise, yet popped with the indescribable
sweetness of a deep residual orgasm. It was unlike any clumsy
tinkering I had managed with Max the vibrating wonder.

Marcus said nothing as he flipped me over. He
did not ask my permission and I knew he never would. He had given
me my pleasure. And now he would take his.

I bit into the red canvas of the futon as the
pain tore at my very axis. Marcus gripped the flesh of my wide
backside, massaging roughly as he battered me with the giant member
which ruled him. I could tell from the urgency that he was nearing
his climax. Hastily he flipped me back to the front and again
entered that plowed triangle. He shuddered to completion with one
of my breasts spilling from each hand. I watched his face in his
moment of passion and triumph. And I loved him.

Yet I frowned as we sprawled on the abused
futon. “Marcus?”

He ran a hand through his damp dark hair.
“Yes, sweet Jessa?”

Suddenly I was embarrassed. “Shouldn’t we be
using, um, protection?”

He was confused. “Protection from
what?”

I rolled my eyes and tried to figure out what
to say. Marcus grabbed my wrists and knelt between my legs. “Jessa,
I am claiming you as my bride, my mate.” He placed a warm hand on
the spill of my belly. “You will breed. There will be no secrets
between us, nothing our bodies will not share from this moment
until the moon takes me.”

His words left me breathless. He was
commanding me to be everything the world had informed me was wrong
and antiquated for a modern woman. But I was no modern woman, I
realized. I never had been. I was the last werewolf bride. His hand
continued to massage my belly. I thought of his seed inside me that
moment, searching for something to cling to. It was an unbearably
erotic thought. I felt my face go warm with blush.

Marcus’s deep brow furrowed. “What is
wrong?”

I looked at him, this paragon of primal
perfection who had chosen me, who had fought for the right to bed
and keep me. I tried to put my feelings into words. “Marcus, I’ve
never been…wanted before…” My voice trailed off.

He kissed me then, long and deep. It was a
sweet moment of tenderness. He broke finally and looked at me
seriously. “Jessa, do you know why ordinary men do not long to have
you?”

I drew my knees up to my chest. “I can
guess.”

“No, you can’t. You weren’t meant for them and
on some basic level which still retains their animal instincts,
they know that.” His finger slid into my moistness. “You were meant
for something else.”

It seemed the wrong time to bring it up. “My
parents. My mother married an ordinary man. Presumably they…well, I
mean here I am.”

Marcus slowly shook his head, smiling. “Jessa,
your father was not an ordinary man.” He pushed a soft curl away
from my forehead. “No, he wasn’t a werewolf. Sometime I will tell
you about it.”

“Why not now?”

Marcus glanced out the dark window. “We need
to make preparations.”

“For what?”

He was surprised. “We need to leave, Jessa.
The night will not last forever. Brethren from the Dark Claws await
us in a dark enclave off the Interstate. They will be getting
restless now that the moon begins her descent.”

He had said the words to me: mate, bride,
claim. Yet somehow it had not sunk in that he meant to take me away
with him. My mind ran furiously. How could I leave everything I had
ever worked for and run away in the night with a werewolf? A few
hours ago the notion would have been insane.

Yet, what did I have here? A handful of
mediocre friendships and another year left at school after which
time I could earn my place in the maligned rat race. Marcus was
offering me something exotic and permanent. Most of all he was
offering me himself. “Where?” I whispered.

“Far from here. Up in the north country, in a
place with few human inhabitants.” He grinned vaguely. “We operate
a large homestead. Organic farming and ranching. We receive
business from across the nation.”

“Werewolf organic farmers?”

Marcus shrugged. “Werewolves need to survive
in this modern world too.” He took my hand and pressed his lips to
the palm. “It’s a beautiful place, Jessa. You will love it there.
The pack will love you.”

Alpha queen. I rolled the words around in my
head. Tonight was the first time in my life I ever recalled feeling
important. “Don’t you have some wolf girlfriend somewhere who is
likely to be jealous? I mean, you obviously knew what you were
doing tonight.”

“No. Werewolves do not have girlfriends as you
think of them. We may find willing partners from time to time and
it is all well and pleasurable, but it is nothing until we find the
one we are meant to be with.”

“Will we have a wedding?”

“If you like. Our ceremonies are a far cry
from what you are used to, but it will be as you wish. Jessa, I
will never refuse you. If you do not refuse me.”

With that he pushed me onto my back. He
inserted himself slowly and moved deliberately. I sensed he was
still gauging how much I would need to be taught about the roles we
would play in our life together. Yes, I would accept him. I writhed
under his touch and his movements quickened. I would be bride and
mate, mother and queen. The pulsing response of my body agreed that
this was what I was destined for. This was why I had never and
would never find fulfillment in the human world. I screamed my
consent and he moved me into a straddle, showing me the rhythm
which would lead him to climax. I pillowed his head on my breast as
he once again loosed the hot honey of his essence.

He enveloped me in his arms and kept his head
at my breast for many long moments. He whispered my name
occasionally and I soothed his temple with soft kisses. I realized
he must have been lonely too, awaiting an ideal companion who might
never arrive. Finally he looked up. His eyes were full of awe and
hunger. “You are everything I dreamed you would be.”

I touched the hard contours of his chest. “You
are everything I never knew I was always searching for.”

He touched my cheek again and repeated that
very soon we must depart. In a few short hours the sky would begin
to lighten. “You may bring only what you can carry on your
back.”

I motioned to my lover’s nude body. “Don’t you
need some clothes?”

Marcus smirked. “You ever see a wolf who wears
clothes?” He shook his head. “Don’t worry, we usually dress
appropriately as long as we’re in our common form. We only go
without when the wolf comes. Wolves have a way of tearing
fabric.”

“I can believe that.”

I dressed simply in jeans and a dark v-neck
shirt. Marcus explained that he was strong enough to carry me. And
quick enough to elude capture. “The ones who see us will blink and
then we will be gone. And they will never be quite sure what it was
they saw.”