The Willing Read online

  “I’m his mother. I have every right.”

  Luka towered over me, moving so close to my face that I thought he’d kiss me.

  “You will give him the choice at his first Change. That is tradition.”

  The anger bubbled up inside me again, hot and fast. I fought it back down so I would not Change in the midst of our argument.

  “I don’t care about your goddamn traditions. Micah doesn’t deserve this life.”

  “The life of a Lycanti is different than that of a pure blood,” Luka sneered. “Surely you know that much from your time in the north.”

  I gasped. “You knew?”

  “Of course I knew. It’s my business to know. I tracked you until Oregon then came home.” He paused, weighing his own words. “I thought Josh would kill you and save me the trouble.”

  I swallowed the hurt and looked away. “You almost got your wish several times.”

  He cupped my chin in his enormous hands. I involuntarily looked up at him; the pain in his eyes surprised me.

  “I was hurt, Emily,” he said softly. “You used me that night. You knew I could not say no to you and now I live every day with the knowledge that I betrayed Brooke.”

  I threw his hands off me. “Don’t say her name here,” I spat.

  He shook his head. “She is a part of my life whether you like it or not. Just as you are part of mine whether or not she desires it.”

  I sighed. Suddenly, I wanted the old Luka back, the one who would smile and shrug off any tension between us; the one whose smug grin and impetuosity warmed me inside. This new, solemn Luka unnerved me. I wanted him playful again, not bitter.

  “There’s no way out of this, is there?” I asked.

  He ran a calloused thumb from my temple to my chin along my jaw line. “No,” he admitted. “But I will not punish you for Will’s death—if you tell me what happened. The truth, Emily. I will know if you lie this time.”

  I wanted to Change then, to run away from this confrontation, but Micah slept in the next room, defenseless and probably dreaming of me holding him, loving him. And as much as I trusted Luka, I did not trust him that much. But if he wanted to know about Will, perhaps it was truly time to tell him.

  “You will not like it,” I warned.

  “I have to know,” he replied stoically.

  So I told him of how I had returned after fighting with him that night, high strung and ready for sex; how I straddled Will in a chair and tied him up, teasing him until he had no reason to tell me no for anything; how I had taken the sharp iron arrow and sliced him open, sucking at his blood and tearing at his flesh as he came, devouring him alive as he screamed and hissed in agony and pleasure but never telling me to stop. Not even I, as cynical as I am, could stop the tears at the end.

  “I guess he thought he could live through anything,” I concluded lamely.

  “Or was willing to die rather than deny you,” Luka said darkly.

  “God, I hope not,” I said passionately.

  Luka reached for me, and I felt no reservations about falling into his arms as he held me tightly with the knowledge that we had loved the same man. I was suddenly painfully aware of my thighs pressed against his, the pulse snapping back and forth between us. My nipples hardened. Luka knew the power he held over me. His broad hand stroked my back gently. After all, my seduction of him had cost him something greater than his life—his honor—and he would not forget it so easily or dismiss my reaction to him. I was only human—well, sort of—and my bloodlust had taken over. Had I been able to control myself, Will would not be dead and Luka and I would not be so miserably snappish at each other. The heat between us in this one embrace would burst into the flames of passion instead of the ash of regret that it was sure to become.

  Luka spoke into my hair. “Thank you, Emily. I’ve been wondering for so long.”

  So caught up in the feel of him against me, I had temporarily forgotten what he spoke of. Then it hit me. His gratitude seemed too good of a thing for the likes of me, and I felt cheap knowing what I’d have to say next. The bulge in his pants nudged against my hips insistently. I wiggled uncomfortably in his arms.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked pulling away, sensing my change in mood.

  I fidgeted, suddenly bashful. “I need a favor.”

  His demeanor turned suspicious. My, how he had changed in a year!

  “I should have known that is why you returned. Always wanting something. Why come back for anything else?” he snarled. His arms still hung around me loosely but his yearning for me had vanished.

  The pain in his tone was evident. And then I knew the truth: he still entertained the hope that we would be together—that I had come back for him—even though he would not leave Brooke. That’s why he held me even though he was angry, why his crotch argued with his brain at this very moment. It angered me and saddened me simultaneously. Poor, idealistic, honor-bound Luka who loved me too much and not enough…the cry of women down the ages, damn him. And poor me, who wanted it so badly, too. I held to that. I did not let the anger or the sadness color my tone.

  “I want you to take me to the Lycanthrope.”

  “My father will kill you,” he said immediately.

  “Not your clan—Will’s.”

  “They will kill you, too. You are not exactly in favor, Emily. Maria knows you killed Will. A mother always seeks revenge. She will not allow you to live.”

  “She will if I have her grandchild.”

  “Which you do not even know for sure!”

  “They don’t know that.”

  “You conniving bitch,” Luka growled while pulling himself away from me forcefully. “You have no right to take Micah away, especially if it means I have to give up my claim to him. What could you possibly want from the Clan? If you think that they will make Micah human, you are mistaken. He has a right to his own opção. They will honor the tradition.”

  I shook my head violently. “It’s not just that. They need to know about Josh’s pack.”

  “We know everything. There aren’t enough of them to worry about right now. And Oregon is outside my hunting range until I take care of the last two Lycanti here. Then I can move away from all the bullshit here.” He glared pointedly at me.

  “This has nothing to do with Oregon,” I stated evenly.

  Luka’s eyes widened. “And what, exactly, does it concern?”

  “Alaska,” I answered simply.

  His tone was a bit surprised. “Alaska?”

  “Yes, Alaska.” I took a deep breath and hoped my memories would not overwhelm me. “Josh’s pack is moving—and they’re taking their property with them.”

  I saw the thousand questions that formed behind his brow through the clear swirl of his eyes. Finally, he spoke gravely, “You think to invoke the Clan’s wrath on Josh’s pack? Revenge?”

  “Revenge is simple,” I said. “This is much more complicated.”

  He nodded, as if he knew everything I had been through, everything that Josh had put me through.

  “I will take you to Mexico, to the Clan, but I have one stipulation.”

  I smiled wanly. “Of course you do.”

  He did not smile back, courtesy of the new Luka. Instead, he stared past me to Micah’s room.

  “You will say nothing about you and me. They cannot know that you have been with me.”

  I stared at the tiled floor hard. That was not part of my plan.

  “You said you didn’t want to give up your claim to Micah.”

  Or to me, I added silently.

  “I have no choice,” he responded. I felt the sorrow emanating from him like a physical thing. “No, Emily. Not for me…not anymore.”

  I had gotten most of what I wanted. Luka would take me to Mexico and back my story that Micah is Will’s son, but at a great price. I knew right then that our relationship would never be the same. Whatever came out of this mess would not be something pleasant.

  The Lycanti

  The things I sa
w them do—now I know why the Clan hunts them. I understand why Luka is a Slayer, why Will, my Will who hated bloodshed, prowled the night for them. Luka told me he does it to keep the “balance” of Lycanti and Lycanthrope in our world. As a Lycanti Changeling myself, I would resent receiving a death sentence just because I am not of pure blood, but I now understand why Luka’s job is necessary. We really are different than the Lycanthrope when allowed to live without masters. Our passions stray further and darker than any Lycanthrope or human’s.

  When I killed Will, I fled. I did not want a life with the Lycanti in California, mostly because they had resented Will’s affection for me and tried to kill me once. Besides, Luka would have easily found me. I started north, first as a wolf hunting and scavenging, then as a scared, nude human. As a human, I stayed so nervous that I did not have to endure long in that tortured, weak form for long. The animal in me is the only thing that allowed me to survive.

  I followed the scent of the seemingly familiar for about three weeks—a Lycanti male unknown to me. I had thought Will to be the only male in the area, but a wooded area in Washington state brought me face-to-face with a man who cared nothing for the human half of himself, even though he came to me in that form. The swaggering confidence and glowing eyes I knew so well flared in the night before me. Blue eyes, so a Changeling of the southern Brazilian clan—Luka’s clan. Green eyes would have marked him as a Changeling claimed by the Mexican clan. The trees rustled and stirred around us, but the nearest humans were miles away and asleep. Too keyed up to Change back to human, I growled a warning at him.

  “Settle down, woman,” he said smoothly, running a hand through his thick, black hair which hung shoulder length. “You tracked me here. I’m curious to know what you want.”

  He came closer to me and I realized that he was American—a very rare Lycanti indeed since Lycanthrope, the only ones who can Change a human, prefer the relative safety of the uncaring Mexican and South American provinces. Some clan members even work for the government, paid for their efforts while tracking down killers and devouring them. But I know this man did none of that. There was nothing tame about him. Tall and lean with wide shoulders, he was an outcast Lycanti. I thought at the time that most likely he had killed his master and now Luka hunted him. If Luka was on his trail, then he had a good reason to be this far north. His beauty hid the traitorous quality that made us Lycanti, but I knew it was there.

  He moved closer. The stringent musk of the Lycanti male tickled my nose. Whereas my Will had had a comforting scent, this man’s attempted to cow me with the threat of domination. Like all Lycanti I had met so far, he was beautiful in form and face, toned from running night after night. Lycanti are created by ravenous Lycanthrope masters, not born into the Clan. I had never met an unattractive Changeling. This man’s smile, though warm, slid over me coldly, bringing back memories of my own Change. A warmth began to spread between my legs.

  “I can smell your fear. And your arousal,” he said in soothing tones. “I can offer you a home. You will be safe.”

  He reached forward and stroked my flanks, rubbing his hands along me sensuously suggestive. I bared my teeth at him but did not growl this time.

  “Come with me,” he coaxed. There was no trace of dialect or accent to his voice. “No one controls my pack. We are free. You will be free.”

  Scared and alone, I should have been defensive, but his grace and calm influenced me. I’m sure he was putting out that distinctly male Lycanti chemical seduction, too, which calmed me and made me more receptive to his demands.

  His hands continued to stroke me, lightly riffling through my fur as if the breeze pushed at it instead of his fingers. He cupped my canine face in his hands.

  “A Mexican Changeling,” he murmured while studying my face. “I bet you’re beautiful with that dark skin and hair with those green eyes. It’s rare that I see any of our Mexican friends this far north.”

  I wanted to laugh, but the closest I could come to it was a playful bark. He smiled. Oh did he have a surprise coming. Sure, I had the long black hair, but my alabaster skin cast me as far away from Hispanic descent as I could possibly go.

  His hands rubbed the tension out of me. I had never felt so much like an animal, but my body responded to the petting anyway.

  Disgusted with myself, I Changed. His eyes widened.

  “Oh my,” he said appreciatively. I stood proudly in the moonlight, unafraid and willing for him to feel me. He disentangled my arms and I couldn’t fight it. I knew what he had done to me: drugged me with pheromones, just as Will had. And like now, I had wanted to rage against my treacherous body, but its insistence to be touched forced me to align my hips with his and press seductively against him. I felt his cock stiffen in response. I was like a bitch in heat.

  His hands reached out to pet me again, rubbing me from shoulder to hip, trailing my arm lightly and traveling back up it to cup a breast in his well-manicured hands. His other hand wrapped around my waist to tease little circles on the small of my back.

  “Not much on conversation, are you?” he whispered breathlessly.

  My hands slid up his chest. The air was cold around us, but I couldn’t feel it anymore. A fire raged just under my skin. I hadn’t been caressed or held in months. My body demanded it as roving hands slipped down his hard stomach. I ran my fingers through the thick patch of coarse hair just below his navel. He groaned deep in the back of his throat and pulled me close to him.

  “Kiss me,” he breathed.

  I was happy to oblige. Our tongues met in a delightful frenzy of motion, his hand gripping the fold of my neck and jaw as if I would turn and run from him. His other hand came up to my face, brushing back an insistent strand of hair, delicately tracing the outline of my ear, and joining the other hand at my neck to pull me closer to him. My arms went around his waist. Our bodies, already pressed together in a perfect meld of curves and planes, seemed as if they would become one if he pulled me to him any more forcefully. My naked body burned in the night and with my Lycanti senses, I could smell my own sex rising up from me like a hidden goddess, hear the desperate catch in my breath as he nipped playfully at my earlobe, feel the tiny whispers of breeze that squeeze through the crevices of our bodies to tug at my nipples. His shirt teased me relentlessly as I pressed against him.

  His hand strayed from my neck, down my torso, and to the damp inferno between my legs. A gentle massage with his fingers on my raised flesh brought me to orgasm within minutes; panting and still craving him, I reached down to guide his finger into me. He grinned, blue eyes disarming and luminescent, teeth beautiful and straight in the darkness. His finger moved in and out slowly, his palm cupping my pubic bone and deliciously pressed up against me at just the right pressure. I practically purred at the sensation, raising a leg up to his hip to get him inside me further. He caught my leg, balancing me against him as he added a second finger to his ministrations. I cried out, climaxing again.

  “Fuck me. Please,” I heard myself saying. The tone was almost pitiful, but I couldn’t stop it.

  He smiled. “Yes ma’am.”

  Tenderly lowering my leg to the ground and withdrawing his fingers from me, his gaze remained fixed on me as he slunk out of his shirt and kicked off his shoes. Impatient, I reached for the button of his jeans. He caught my probing fingers and smiled.

  “I’ve been doing this for a long time, sweetheart. Let me.” He gestured down to the bulge I wanted to touch. “If you do it, I might get a little too excited.”

  I returned his smile and reluctantly withdrew my hand. The steady hum of nature buzzed around me, but I didn’t care. If we had been in New York City on a trade floor, I would have let those men watch me stand naked and watch this man strip before me. It would have been worth it.

  He efficiently undid his jeans and slid them down. I reached forward immediately to feel him firm in my hand. His gasp was almost a cry of pain as I moved my hand in long strokes. He didn’t reach forward to grab at me now, just
buried his face in my hair, steady breaths ruffling my hair as I handled him. My rhythm increased and his pelvis moved involuntarily towards me, his cock nudging the hot flesh of my stomach. I stopped the stroking and squeezed the tip of him lightly, smearing the precum into the crevices between my fingers. I brought it my mouth and licked it off, moaning at its taste. He watched and sighed deeply, the monster between us twitching and demanding more attention.

  “Let me,” he said in two halting syllables. His self-control was amazing. Will would have been humping my leg by this point. I nodded my consent with a coy smile. Before I knew it, I was on my hands and knees in the dirt, grit digging into my sensitive skin.

  But that didn’t matter. All I could feel was the thickness of him against my inner walls. Tiny explosions rocked me repeatedly as he thrust deep inside me. Spots danced before my eyes and my screams echoed around us. I arched my back, lifting myself higher into the air to get him even deeper inside me. My bare ass hit the flesh of his stomach with a desperate slap, our breathing coming quick. I rolled my head back to loll on my shoulders, completely lost in the sensation of him fucking me. He reached forward and moved the hair from my back, squeezing my shoulders while hitting what felt like the core of my body. His thrusts became frantic and I urged him on with words I can’t even remember now. With a final shudder, his seed rushed into me, mixing into mine to become a hot mess that was sure to soak me through for at least a week.

  The frigid air couldn’t cool my body and lungs fast enough. Nor did I realize what a night with an anonymous Lycanti male could cost me. The silence between us in the lightheaded moments after our union should have told me that he was nothing like Will. This man was as cold as the night air around us.

  Will held me after loving me.

  This man pulled himself out of me, coolly picked up his clothes in a way I’d never seen of the passion-filled Lycanti, and motioned for me to follow.

  “Come,” he said without a backwards glance.

  And I—overwhelmed with the inexplicable passion between us and trying to escape my own violent actions and my memories of Will—I followed like a fool.