The Last Werewolf Bride Complete Trilogy (5 page)

I gasped as the first wolf burst through the
brush. “Marcus!” I cried. He approached me gently, softly keening
his sorrow over my wounds as he licked the blood from my face. “I’m
all right,” I whispered as I buried my face in his shoulder. “I’m
all right now.” My arms went around him and I wept.

The other Dark Claws followed momentarily. The
stood back on their haunches and eyed me with sympathy. I looked at
each of them. My pack, my family. “Thank you,” I said.

Then Marcus’s strong arms were holding me and
I cried out with joy as he lifted me from the ground and carried me
deeper into the woods. “There is a stream nearby,” he
said.

The other Dark Claws hung back as he brought
me to the water. He set me down softly and cupped water in his
hands, urging me to drink. All the peril of the last few hours
caught up to me and I struggled to clear my head as Marcus smoothed
my hair and whispered endearments.

“What happened?” I asked, referring to the
fight.

Marcus grinned wryly, his look far away. “The
vampires move more quickly than we do. They tore open those
wretched bastards before we could blink. Except Rocco.” His eyes
narrowed. “I got to Rocco first.”

I took his warm hand and put it to my lips.
“He didn’t hurt me much. I mean, he didn’t get to…” My voice
trailed off and Marcus looked at me with such a searching
tenderness I wanted to weep again.

He pushed a curl from my forehead, the way he
had done the night we met, the night he claimed me. “My brave
girl.”

The water was cool. I eagerly sank into the
stream and let it wash away the night’s humiliations. Marcus
watched me. I stood up straight. Water dripped from my body as I
touched myself lightly. He read my intentions and
smiled.

As I sank down into the soft ground I pulled
him to me. My legs eagerly wrapped around him. I was open. I was
ready. His arousal matched mine and I could barely stand not having
it inside me. It needed it desperately. The throbbing rhythm of his
thrusts, the hot spurt of his orgasm. I needed him to cover me with
his scent.

“Take me,” I commanded.

The werewolf did as he was told.

THE LAST WEREWOLF BRIDE 3: With
Wolf

L
anguidly I rolled over and
began to stimulate my mate as he slept. A small smile played on
Marcus’s lips as his eager body responded to my touch. The creamy
warmth between my legs was a known companion after all these months
and surfaced more frequently as my belly swelled.

He was ready momentarily and I swung one leg
around and straddled him. Marcus opened a dark eye and groaned as I
buried him in my moist depths. His large hands reached for me,
rolling the lacy black lingerie over my tender breasts. My hard
nipples relished the feel of his tongue as my body rocked over his
in a familiar rhythm. He stroked the large belly which rested on
his chest as the inhabitant within rolled gently.

I reached climax so much more quickly as my
pregnancy progressed. The hunger in my body grew with the child it
hosted. I never tired of the shuddering bliss of an orgasm. I
wondered if anyone did.

Marcus let me ride him to conclusion. The
warmth of his body’s release washed through me. But that seed would
not find a place. The position was already taken.

I reluctantly allowed his spent organ to leave
my body and climbed from him, rolling back onto the bed. I did not
replace my nightgown or cover myself, enjoying the morning breeze
sifting through the open bedroom window. Several of Marcus’s
brothers were nearby on the other side, arguing playfully over the
repair of an old transmission. Our nude condition would be visible
to passersby and in fact it was likely our early passions were
overheard, but I didn’t mind. The werewolves were overtly sexual
creatures. It was part of their daily lifestyle and I had learned
to abandon the modesty which had governed my life until this
year.

Sometimes I considered where I would be if The
Seer had not recognized that I secretly lived, the last of the
ancient bloodline of alpha queens. This would have been my last
year of law school. Shortly after I arrived at the home of the Dark
Claws I had written to Liza. She was the only friend I had informed
of my departure the night Marcus came to claim me. I told her I had
found my true love. I told her I was happy. She did not write back,
but it mattered little. The human world was no longer mine. I was
the queen of the Dark Claws and I would soon bear a son who was
destined to be an alpha like his father.

Although I seldom still reflected on the
impossibility of being a part of this secret world filled with
werewolves and vampires and other underworld creatures, I did
wonder if Marcus’s claim to me was fate. What if he had not won the
fight? I leaned over and touched the unshaven bristle on his
handsome face. I was blessed to have found my true mate. There had
been more sinister possibilities. I knew this because I had met
one. A brief flash of memory brought Rocco’s cruel face and I
shivered, pulling a blanket over my breasts. After we had safely
returned to the rural home of the Dark Claws, Marcus had refused to
speak of the violent ordeal which had let to the slaughter of the
Iron Jaws. “It does not matter, Jessa. They are gone.” But in my
darkest dreams I still heard the raging shrieks of the vampires as
they tore the wicked pack to shreds.

Another light breeze washed over me. The air
was growing warmer as spring drew near. My child was likely to
arrive in a matter of weeks. I touched my swollen belly with a
secret smile, recalling the moment I had told Marcus of his
impending fatherhood. He was giddy with joy and for a brief time
our physical joining had been very careful. Overnight Marcus the
virile alpha werewolf became uncharacteristically cautious on the
subject of lovemaking. He feared to place his weight on me. It had
taken some time to convince him I was not a china doll who would
break and that our child was well protected deep in my
womb.

The next gust which rolled through the window
was not casual. A vase of wildflowers, picked by the children of
Dark Claws for their queen, fell from the dresser and shattered on
the floor. I could not say what it was about that burst of wind
which caused me to sit up and gasp. I only knew in my heart of a
certain wrongness in the air.

Marcus stirred beside me. He sat up suddenly,
a low growl in his throat.

Kiko was Marcus’s brother, essentially his
second in command. When he leaned into the window his face was
grim. However he remained in his mortal form, which meant whatever
threat waited outside, it was likely not other werewolves. Kiko did
not blink at our nudity, nodding at his brother. “You’d better get
out here.”

Marcus glanced at me. “Jessa. Stay
here.”

As an afterthought he grabbed a pair of gym
shorts before he leapt out of the window. I pulled the bedding
around my body and shivered as I searched for clothes. As I dressed
I strained to hear what was happening outside. A female voice spoke
in low commanding tones. Marcus interrupted her, arguing, but I
could not make out the words.

I crept over to the window, pushing aside the
delicate eyelet curtains which had been sewn by Kiko’s mate. Marcus
stood about twenty yards away, the strongest of his brethren at his
back. The same werewolves who he had brought with him to rescue me
from Rocco’s brutality. They all wore unanimously fierce
expressions at they faced the stranger before them. The woman was
young and dressed entirely in black as she faced the Dark Claws. I
had never seen her before. She was waiting for Marcus’s
response.

“No,” he said. “They will not.”

The woman looked at me. Her glance was
unsurprised, as if she had expected to me to be watching. She
smiled but her voice held a tone of warning. “They will
try.”

Marcus exhaled thickly. The look he gave me
was bleak, almost sorrowful. I swallowed. “Jessa,” he said. “There
is something we need to discuss.”

My heart pounded as I walked through the small
cabin and exited the front door. The woman who had addressed me
waited serenely, her hands clasped in front of her. Her gown was
plain, black, and reached to the floor. The thin material sifted
lightly about her slim frame. Though I had dressed warmly, I felt
exposed as her gaze bore into me.

“Jessa, my name is Cassiah.”

My heart pounded, particularly when I caught a
glimpse of Marcus. His muscles were tight with fury and he looked
at the ground. “Hello,” I said hesitantly. I cleared my throat.
“Are you a…” My voice trailed off and I looked at Marcus with
uncertainty. If the woman was merely human it wouldn’t do to go
babbling about werewolves.

Cassiah laughed. “A wolf? Goddess, no.” She
smirked at the Dark Claws. “The beasts have some uses, I’ll admit.
And I’ve enjoyed one or two in my time.” She looked at Marcus
meaningfully before she returned her attention to me. “But I am not
a wolf. Or a vampire, or a demon, a fairy, or any of the endangered
species which show up now and again at The Gathering.” Marcus had
told me about The Gathering the night we met. It was apparently a
grand party for the underworld. The last Gathering was where he had
learned of my existence. And fought for the right to claim
me.

Cassiah watched me closely. I had the curious
feeling she could hear my thoughts as clearly as if I had spoken
aloud. There was one manner of creature which she had not
mentioned. They were a forbidding race who clung to their craft
more fervently than any mortals clung to religion. They kept
careful tabs on all the strange creatures which walked alongside
men and when a severe threat to humanity arose, they dealt with it
as necessary. They were the sheriffs of the underworld. They were
witches. Cassiah looked into my eyes and nodded, pleased that I had
come to the conclusion on my own. But there were still questions to
be answered.

“The Seer sent me,” she said, looking at
Marcus again.

I spoke up. “As for the Iron Jaws-“

“Iron Jaws, ha!” Cassiah spat dismissively.
“They were dealt with as was deserved.”

I opened my mouth to speak but Cassiah raised
her hand. “So why am I here?” She looked at me intently. “For you,
Jessa. For your child. I must protect the werewolf bride’s child,
the future alpha of the Dark Claws.”

“Protect him from what?” I placed a protective
hand over my belly. “Another pack?”

Cassiah shook her head impatiently. “No, no.
While there are some who grumble yet that the last Caprese bride
has been claimed, none will challenge Marcus.” She smirked. “Not
after what happened to the Iron Jaws.”

I relaxed. My awful hours with Rocco had
taught me to fear wolves outside of my own pack. “If the threat
doesn’t come from other wolves, then who?”

Cassiah clucked sternly at Marcus. I had the
odd feeling she was enjoying his discomfort. “Didn’t you tell your
pretty bride that werewolves were not the only creatures interested
in her?”

Marcus glowered at the witch. “She belongs
here. She is our queen and will be a mother shortly.”

Cassiah looked thoughtfully at my swollen
figure. “That,” she said decisively, “is the problem.”

I was growing impatient with the way they
spoke in circles. Apparently I was the only one not privy to the
reason why a witch had landed in my front yard. “Somebody better
tell me what the hell is going on.”

Marcus came to me and took my arm, trying to
lead me back into the cabin. But quicker than a blink the witch was
in front of us, blocking the door. “You had your chance to come
clean, Marcus.” Her smile had dropped and her voice was low. “Do
you really think you can wish them away?”

Marcus reached for me but I shook his hand
away. “Who?” I screamed.

Marcus coughed. “I’m sorry, Jessa. The witch
is right. I should have told you.” He looked into my eyes. “Do you
recall the night I claimed you, when I said your father had not
been human?”

“I’m not feebleminded, Marcus. Of course I
remember.” In fact he had promised to tell me more. Yet whenever I
had asked him he shook his head slowly and was silent.

Cassiah spoke softly. “Jessa, your father was
a changeling. His was a demon soul placed in a human
child.”

“A demon?” I tried to conjure up an image of
my father, the laughing man who had carried me over rain puddles so
my feet would not get wet and shown me how to make dandelion crowns
for my hair. I shook my head.

The first hint of sympathy crept into
Cassiah’s voice. “I’m afraid so. He was indeed a demon, though
while he walked in a mortal body he behaved himself. Mostly. He had
been searching for a new host when he perished alongside your
mother.” Cassiah heard my question before it left my lips. “A host,
yes. His human body was ill. If the human dies before the demon can
find a new host, then the demon dies as well.”

I lowered my head. You would think after all
the shocks and ordeals so far this year I would be immune to
strange news. But I was having some difficulty reconciling myself
to being half demon.

Cassiah stepped closer to me. “There’s
more.”

“Wait,” said Marcus. His voice held a pained
tone and I looked at him strangely. I mean really, how much more
shocking could the news get?