“We can’t live like that, not and be happy the way we were meant,” she said.
He turned back to her, his palm cupping the back of her head. “I can make you happy, MaryAnn. Through it all, I can do that.”
“But I couldn’t make you happy. I want this for myself, not for you. Because for the first time I know what life can be like sharing it with someone else. I feel as if I’ve been handed a miracle.”
A smile softened the hard edge of his mouth. “That is the way I feel, MaryAnn. You are that miracle, and to chance losing you…”
“Why would you lose me? Juliette made it through.”
His fingers raked through his hair. “It is different.”
“How? Explain to me how it is different.”
Exasperated, he sighed. “I see what you meant when you told me you were stubborn.” He sat up and ran both hands through his hair again, shoving the long hair behind his shoulders and then abruptly leaning over to kiss her. “This is something you are absolutely certain you want to do?”
She curled her fingers around his nape and drew his head down to hers for another kiss. His mouth was like a heated furnace, ready to catch fire at the least provocation. “I want to spend every moment I can with you in the best way possible.”
He let his breath out. “Do not think you will get your way in all things,
sivamet.
”
She rolled onto her back, her hair spread across the pillow, and smiled up at him. “Of course I will.”
He leapt out of bed and was gone. He simply dissolved to vapor in front of her eyes, streaming down the narrow tunnel toward the entrance. MaryAnn’s heart slammed hard against her chest.
What are you doing?
She sprang up and dashed after him, running barefoot, forgetting all about bugs and anything else to do with caves, in her concern for Manolito. She merged her mind with his, even as she used the wolf ’s speed to try to catch him.
He was not risking her without knowing what would happen. His resolve was absolute. He didn’t want to be with her in case it all went wrong fast.
Don’t you dare!
She shouted it in her mind, his mind, burying as much compulsion in as she was capable of using. Her breath came out in a ragged sob.
Manolito. No. You can’t do this.
She felt the brush of his fingers on her face and then he was gone from her, pushing her out of his mind to ensure her safety. She felt the ground shake and knew the entrance was opened. Putting on a burst of speed, she pumped her arms, racing to get there before he could close it.
The rock walls slammed together with a grinding noise that reverberated through her mind. She threw back her head and howled, somewhere between fury and terror.
If I do not return, the door will open at sunset.
She slammed both palms over the boulders, a sob welling up in her throat.
If you do not return, there is no reason for the door to open. Please, Manolito, I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want this. Come back.
I will not risk you.
It’s my risk to take,
she pleaded.
She felt his sigh in her mind, and again his fingers seemed to brush over her skin.
You do not understand. You are more than my heart. You are my very soul. There is nothing—no one—on this earth more important to me. I do not want you to feel the fire of conversion. I do not want you to ever experience pain. And I will not risk your life or sanity until I have risked my own first to know that it can be done without harm to you.
She pressed her hand to her mouth hard to stifle the weeping. Crying wasn’t going to stop him. Compulsion wasn’t going to stop him.
If you really love me
…
His laughter was soft in her ear.
It is out of love that I do this. Go back and sit on the bed and wait for me. If I return, we will complete the conversion. If I do not, go to my brothers and allow them to care for you.
There was seduction in his voice. The image of her sitting on the bed naked, waiting for him to return to her, was in his mind. She wanted to throw something. She leaned down to find a loose rock on the cavern floor, wrapped her fist around it and, in a storm of rage, flung it at the door, furious that he would expect her to meekly wait for him. To think that he would come back and they would have sex. Wild, uninhibited wolf sex. Oh, God, he was so right.
Manolito.
She tried again.
You matter as much to me as I do to you. At least let us do this together. Let me out. Or stay merged with me.
I will not risk you.
He broke the connection once more and she felt alone. So alone. MaryAnn walked back to the chamber, her heart so heavy she felt it might shatter into a million pieces. If something went wrong…If she lost him now…How could he have done it again? Taken the decision making out of her hands? Anger faded away as realization hit her. If he didn’t come back, she had nothing at all. There would be no reason for anger. No reason at all. Just emptiness, just a terrible black hole that would eventually swallow her.
“What were you thinking?” she whispered aloud, not certain if she was asking him or herself the question. She sank onto the bed, ignoring the tears streaming down her face, just letting them fall.
Manolito inhaled the night air, dragging it deep into his lungs. He felt the wolf inside leap forward, processing data every bit as fast as a Carpathian could. MaryAnn had infected him with her wolf ’s blood, and as the wolf inside had grown stronger, he had expected his Carpathian traits to either overcome it, or succumb to it, but so far, neither had happened. The wolf simply had taken up residence and remained quiet and alert. They seemed to coexist, but what would happen to him or the wolf, if he called it forth?
He turned his face up to the night sky. He loved the night, the beauty and mystery of it. He loved all things Carpathian. Was this what it had felt like for MaryAnn, to know who she was, to be confident and happy in her own skin? He had ripped that out from under her. He had expected her to accept his gift of life, of love, without ever really weighing the cost to her. For him, being Carpathian was everything. She had loved her life, was comfortable and happy in it. He had taken that as well, all without thought.
Manolito?
Zacarias touched his mind, the connection strong in spite of the distance.
What are you doing?
He felt the uneasiness of his brothers and knew he had inadvertently touched them, as they always did with one another before a great battle. A touch to say good-bye just in case things didn’t go the right way.
I am all right, Zacarias. I have made choices I regret. Given the chance, take care with your choices so you do not have regrets. I have learned that my way is right, yet so are other ways.
There was a small silence. Zacarias had always been able to see too much.
What you do is dangerous.
Manolito gave a casual roll of the shoulders, shrugging off the comment even though his brother couldn’t see him.
What we have done our entire existence has been dangerous. Please get the information to Mikhail that we face possible destruction from all sides. That is the least we can do when we aided the Malinovs in creating the plan to bring down the leader of our people.
Nicolas has already begun the journey. I do not want you to continue on this path you have chosen. I cannot read anything but danger.
Live well, brother.
Manolito sent his warmth and affection, but pulled away before Zacarias could get an inkling of what he planned.
“It is you and me, wolf,” he said quietly. “And the night.”
He felt the wolf stir and stretch. The creature was separate from him, two strong, dominant personalities sharing the same body. It wasn’t an illusion. The wolf traits, the need to keep his female protected and close, those things were as strong or stronger in the wolf and doubled his own need to act on them. They shared feelings and sensations. They could—communicate.
Are you ready to do this?
As ready as you. She is my mate as much as yours.
There was no hesitation on the part of the wolf. He didn’t yet understand the Carpathian bond and what it would mean should Manolito die. MaryAnn would either follow him at once, or, if her wolf could keep her alive, it would be a slow, living death for her.
He shook his head, refusing the possibility. If he didn’t convert her, she was right, they would have a difficult life, maybe the same slow, living death either way. Better to face the fire and burn quick and clean.
He called. The wolf answered. He reached. The wolf leapt. The change swept over him. Different. He forced himself to feel everything, to examine it all. The ripple of life beneath his skin. The itch of fur. The burst of teeth as his muzzle elongated to accommodate the sharp fangs. He was being drawn back, pulled inside, spiraling down and shrinking, the sensation claustrophobic. His guardian passed him, flooding him with assurance as the wolf sprang forward and took over his body.
Strength and power poured into him and through him, feeding the wolf. His mind expanded as the collective memories of generation after generation flooded his mind. Nothing like the werewolves in the movies. The full moon made them weak, unable to come out and protect their host body. Unable to answer the call of the wild when their charges were in danger. They headed up the organizations to save forests and animals. They worked tirelessly to combat the ignorance on wildlife, plants and the habitats, even the earth itself.
They were power and intelligence wrapped in sleek fur. Amber eyes and a dark pelt of black fur, the wolf looked into the glassy water to give Manolito a sense of who and what he was. There was no terrible movie monster, but a wolf worried as much for his mate as Manolito was for MaryAnn.
Packs were scattered across the world. Small. Tight. Hidden. They rarely came together unless the need was great, but they survived, buried deep in the community of humans, working, living and loving among them. Their greatest danger was the rogues, wolves who refused to be part of any pack, wolves who, like the Malinov brothers, felt they had a right to rule.
His wolf had searched the collective memories of all wolves and had never found an incidence of a Carpathian mating with a wolf, but neither blood had harmed the other. Manolito opened his memories to the wolf, allowing him to see what the conversion would do, sharing his fears for MaryAnn’s safety. He was beginning to think of the wolf as another brother, a partner and friend. They knew each other, stood with each other, and his wolf would always, always protect MaryAnn, just as Manolito would always protect MaryAnn’s wolf.
Manolito emerged into the night without a single loss. If anything, he had gained—in knowledge, confidence, and his ability to make a rational decision. It would eventually harm them to live without MaryAnn going through the conversion. She had known that instinctively, as well as reasoning it out. He had to accept the risk for both their sakes. If he didn’t do it this night, he might not find the courage again.
He waved the door to the cavern open, knowing she would hear the rocks grinding together as he once more sealed them in. Striding down the narrow tunnel, he wasn’t surprised when she came, tears running down her face, hurling herself at him, instead of waiting on the bed as he’d ordered. He kept the smile from his face, but his heart lightened at her reaction.
“What have you done? You’re crazy, you know that?” Cream washed through the perfection of her coffee-colored skin as she flung herself at him. She was furious, yet still crying as she swung at him, letting the adrenaline rule her.
He caught her fists and jerked her against him, wrapping her up tight before she could hurt herself or him. “Easy,
csitri.
Do not hurt yourself.”
She kicked back at him with her foot, angry all over again now that he was safe. “Hurt you, you mean. I can’t believe you did that. What if you needed me and I couldn’t get to you?”
“I had to make certain you were safe,” he said, perfectly reasonable. His arm was around her waist, the other under her breasts, both pinning her arms to her sides to keep her from taking another swing at him. “My wolf is very interested in yours. He is worried that something will happen to her when you change, but I believe we are of equal strength. I think your little female is strong enough to go through conversion with you.”
She wasn’t quite ready to let go of being afraid and angry with him. He drew her up off her feet and moved backward, taking her with him, her body tight against his. His cock was already hot and engorged, pressed snugly between her buttocks.
“If you think I’m going to let you touch me…”
He bent his head to find the hollow of her neck. Warm. Soft. Inviting. His tongue found her pulse and teased with small flicks. His teeth scraped gently back and forth, flooding her channel with liquid heat. Her womb contracted, set up a throbbing ache. She flexed the muscles in her arm until he cautiously allowed one to escape. She wrapped it around his head and arched back into him, grateful he was alive and unhurt.
“You scared me.”
“I’m sorry,
sivamet.
I had no wish to frighten you, only to keep you safe.”
His hand came up to cup her breast very tenderly, his fingers tugging at her nipple, sending whispers of sensation floating through her body. There was something extremely sexy about being held like this, his arm locking her tightly to him, his body pressed into hers. He always made her feel sensual and beautiful and very wanted.
Voracious hunger glittered in his eyes as he bent his head to kiss her. His mouth ravaged hers, but his hands were gentle as they traveled down to the soft expanse of her belly. He rubbed small circles there, holding her chin, keeping access to her mouth. She shivered in anticipation.
“Lie down on the bed.” His arms dropped away.
MaryAnn turned to face him, studying the stark arousal on his face, the thick erection standing against the hard muscles of his stomach. He nodded toward the bed, and she crawled onto it, deliberately sensuous, hearing his swift intake of breath as she moved her body with the grace of a wolf, slow and sexy, her breasts swaying and her bottom round and tight. She turned over and stretched out, not hurrying at all, letting him see every inch of her.