Blood Law (34 page)

Tears
stung her eyes. She threw her long hair over her shoulder, leaned down, and
pressed her lips to his. Her tears sealed their deep kiss. “I am yours as you
are mine. I would never betray you or our people.”

His
arms wrapped around her. “I would die for you,” he hoarsely said. Their lips
met in a wild torrent, as their hips rose and fell in perfect frantic symmetry.

Wild,
wicked abandon grabbed hold of Falon. Any lingering inhibitions she’d held on
to were tossed away. Her urge to mate, to connect, to make love to this man was
more than desire, or need—it was crucial to her survival, like air and water.
She came in a hard, violent crash. She threw her head back and cried out a
long, pealing cry as each wave of the orgasm rocked through her. Their bodies
had slickened. She felt Rafael’s body surge and knew he was about to explode
inside her. As he lifted high into her, she sank her teeth into his neck. Her
teeth broke skin and sank into muscles, then deeper. His warm blood was an
instant aphrodisiac, stoking her appetite for more. It met then mingled with
hers, cementing their destiny as one together. Rafael’s hoarse moan and wild
undulating body arched beneath her as she scraped her teeth along his jugular,
forever marking him as hers.

Rafael
wrapped his arms around her waist and rolled her over. He filled her, giving
her all of himself in one long, fierce release.

Their
forced breaths mingled as their bodies, still one, could not quench the need
for the other. Rafael entwined his fingers with Falon’s and raised her arms
above her head. He kissed her deeply, his tongue meeting hers in a slow, deep,
intimate kiss. Falon strained beneath him, wrapping her legs around his waist,
not satisfied to have him once. She wanted more of him, all of him. Now.

She
arched her back, inviting him deeper into her. Her hunger had not been slaked,
nor had his. His hips moved hotly against her, the sweat of their bodies warmed
with the friction, adding more sensation to the erotic movements.

When
she tried to rise to him, he kept her pinned to the bed, deepening his kiss.
Her body frantically undulated beneath his as primal desire drove her almost to
the brink of madness. She tore her lips from his to gasp for breath, arching
against him again and again as the wild beast in her demanded the beast in him.

Her
unbridled passion for the man above her launched her high into the
stratosphere. Her chest burned from the swell of emotion that overcame her.

“Rafa,”
she cried as their future flashed, bloody, dark, and destitute in her mind. She
closed her eyes, shutting out what she knew she could not change. Destiny was
written, and while they could fight it, it would win. It always won.

He
smoothed her damp hair from her face and looked down at her with such fierce
love she couldn’t stop the reactive tears that erupted. “Rafa,” she cried,
hugging him close.

“My
love,” he shushed, kissing her lips to silence. “I will protect you. I swear to
you, I will allow no man or Lycan to hurt you.”

But
what of you?

He
looked deep into her soul.

I
will grow into an old, old man with you and our children by my side.

They
tumbled into a long, soul-searing orgasm so intense, so profound, so prophetic
they did not recover until the wee hours of the morning.

RAFAEL
WOKE TO Falon’s muffled cries against his chest. Her body quaked softly. Her
fingers tightened around him, her breaths short and shallow. He pressed her
soft body into the sheets and kissed her lips, quieting her dark thoughts.
Their connection complete, he could see into her dreams, feel her pain and her
fears. And though he told himself they were for naught, that he would fight to
the death to keep her alive, he knew it would be the battle of his life.

He’d
never feared raising his sword against a Slayer. He lived for the challenge and
the vengeance. But a dark trepidation settled in his soul when it came to
challenging the council for the unfettered right to his chosen one. He’d
attended only one council meeting in his life, and that was right after the
packs split. He was nineteen, angry, arrogant, and inexperienced. His pleas
fell on deaf ears then. Would they again?

“Rafa?”

He
smiled and looked down into two of the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever
seen. As deep and blue as Lake Tahoe, and just as bright. She was striking in a
most memorable way. Her beauty wasn’t the classic type; hers was deeply
sensual. The kind that imprinted on a person’s brain, never forgotten.

He
smoothed her cheek with his fingertips and smiled. “You were dreaming.”

As if
a dark cloud passed by the sun, the brightness in her eyes dimmed. “I’m afraid.
I can’t shake the feeling.”

“I
told you—”

She
pressed her fingers to his lips and shook her head. “I know what you said, but
it doesn’t change the reality of our situation.”

Rafael
leaned up on one elbow and tried to convince her as much as himself. “My
brother took a Slayer into our pack. He intended to mark her as his. The Blood
Law forbids mixing of Slayer and Lycan blood. It’s a death sentence not only by
Lycan law but Slayer law as well. Had Lucien marked her, he would have been
executed for bringing our mortal enemy into the pack. I saved my brother from
sure death and prevented the introduction of Slayer blood into the pack. He
should have thanked me, rather than insist I pay for my actions with the life
of my chosen one.”

“Why
didn’t anyone else see that she was a Slayer?”

“The
Slayers have mastered the black arts. As Smythe did, she very skillfully
concealed her ancestry.”

“Then
how did you know she was a Slayer?”

“As
he—took her from behind, she was arrogant enough to show herself to me,
challenging then mocking what she thought I was powerless to prevent. He could
not see how her eyes turned to ebony as Slayers’ do when they are on the
precipice of destruction. I did. I had no doubt then, and I have no doubt now.”

“If
you prove she was a Slayer, would the Blood Law be revoked?”

“Only
Lucien can revoke it. It is his right to see it carried out, but not
mandatory.”

“Then
the Blood Law is not written in stone?”

“It
is, but there is some discretion. Let’s say Lucien, as the offended party,
decided he wanted something else in lieu of your life, I would have to give it
to him.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.
Taking one’s chosen one is the most grievous offense in our world. Therefore
anything else is considered less. I agree with the law in principle, but I
cannot and will not pay the price of your death for destroying a Slayer. Any
other Lycan would have done the same thing. That it was an alpha’s chosen one,
an alpha who couldn’t see through the lust-induced spell she cast on him, is
not my problem. I pled my case fourteen years ago, and I’ll plead it again.
This time, I will be heard, and the law will be amended.”

“If
there was a way you could prove she was a Slayer, would they heed your
challenge?”

“Yes.”

“Where
is she buried?”

“There
is no body; a Slayer returns to dust when they die a true death. Some
immediately, some over the course of a day or two. Lucien and I nearly killed
each other after I killed her. When we came to, the curse was cast. The day
after the Slayer’s death, Lucien’s room was torched. The evidence went up in
smoke. But Talia remembers seeing only the body when she found Lucien and me
dying, nothing more. Perhaps she can meditate to see what she did not see all
those years ago.”

It
was Falon’s turn to lean up on an elbow. “What curse?”

Rafael’s
lips thinned. “Lucien and I are evenly matched. We’d fought to our deaths. As
we lay dying, Talia, pack Vulkasin’s healer, pleaded to Singarti, the Spirit
Mother, to restore our lives. She did. With conditions. Until the Blood Law is
avenged, I roam the nights as a man, a wolf by day, and Lucien does the
opposite.”

“But
I’ve seen you both as men at the same time.”

“One
hour at dawn and another at dusk we are both men.”

“Who
is Singarti? Tell me of the rising.”

Rafe
smiled. “Three hundred years ago in the far North, during a Blood Moon rising,
a great battle between Slayers and my ancestors who were wolves ensued. The
wolves were being slaughtered at an alarming rate. The Inuit people respected
my ancestors and called to their spirit gods to save the wolves. The most
powerful of them is Singarti. She gave the wolves human life so that they had a
chance to survive the Slayers. Singarti also banished Fenrir, a supernatural
wolf who betrayed his own kind, to the ring Edward gifted Peter the original
Slayer with.” He raised his hand. “I took it from Salene the night we met. It
holds great power. The gods foretold an Armageddon of sorts during the next
Blood Moon rising. Lycan versus Slayer for the whole enchilada. The rising is
in two months.”

“All
or nothing?” she asked.

He
kissed the tip of her nose. “All or nothing. But do not fear, my love. The
Lycan nation will rise and destroy every Slayer on this earth.”

She
believed him. But first things first.

“So
clarify for me the curse details. The only way you and Lucien can both be men
and shift when you want is when the Blood Law is avenged?”

He
kissed her forehead. “Yes.”

“Is
there another time when we automatically shift?”

“When
we are incredibly pissed, it’s almost impossible to prevent, and upon every
full moon there is no force on earth that can prevent our shifting. During the
full moon, we are at our most powerful.”

“Last
night was a full moon.”

“Yes,
and I’m betting, since you had no idea what you were, and had no pack to
nurture you, your inner spirit knew you would not survive until you were with
your own kind. But more than that, you were marked by an alpha, and you saw
your mate being threatened, which triggered the beast within. And all during a
full moon.” He kissed a nipple. She hissed in a breath. Her scent thickened
with desire. “You didn’t stand a chance.” He kissed the other nipple, and Falon
moaned, rubbing her mons against his thigh. “You are a shameless hussy, Falon
Vulkasin.”

She
giggled and rolled over on top of him and licked the raw mark on his neck. “I
like marking you. I’m going to keep marking you so every female—human, Lycan,
Slayer, or goat—knows you’re mine.”

“You
know, there are other places you can put those naughty lips of yours . . .”

Her
eyes blazed neon blue. “Oh, really?” She kissed his nipple. His body tightened.

“There?”
she asked smiling mischievously up at him.

“For
starters.”

She
kissed his other nipple. “Then you must mean here.” She sucked it, flicking it
with her tongue.

“Maybe,”
he moaned.

She
dragged her warm, wet tongue down his belly just below his navel. His cock
warmed, thickening. She licked the soft golden hairs that formed an arrow to
his groin. “How about here?”

“Yes,”
he groaned.

Her
hair brushed across his burgeoning erection, teasing him, testing him. Pushing
him to his limit. If she didn’t take care of him soon, he’d have to take
matters into his own hands.

She
licked just above his rod then down the inside of his thigh. “Here?”

“No,”
he hoarsely said.

“Oh,
then you must mean here,” she teased, licking the inside of his other thigh.

His
hand slid down his belly to his raging hard-on. He wrapped his fingers around
himself and slowly began to pump. “You go ahead and play your silly games.”

She
pouted prettily but watched him as he slowly stroked himself. She put her hands
on each of his thighs, dipped her lips down to the head, and inhaled. “Our
scents blend well.” She laved her warm, wet tongue across the head of his cock.
He squeezed his eyes closed and fought back his eruption.

“Did
you mean there?” she asked against his skin, her lips barely touching him, yet
creating more havoc than before.

He
clenched his jaw. “Yes,” he groaned.

She
dipped her head and licked one of his balls then the other and up the base of
his cock. “Or did you mean there?” she coyly asked.

“Falon,”
he groaned. His cock was thick, hard, and throbbing in his hand. He wanted her
lips around him, her tongue teasing the head, her fingers cupping his balls . .
. She dipped her head, and in a slow, deep swath she licked around the tip of
his dick. He held it up toward her in offering while he continued to stroke
himself. Her lips opened wider to take just the head into her mouth. Then
slowly and deeply, she sucked, as she would savor a Tootsie Pop. “Jesus,” he
hissed. “That feels so damned good, Falon.”

Her mouth
widened as her tongue lapped and licked the sensitive skin just below the
inside of the head. Her saliva dripped down his shaft, lubricating his hands.
His hips rose and fell as his hand continued to stroke and she suckled him.
When her fingers slid down, pushing his away, taking more of him into her
mouth, Rafael squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, fighting back the
rush of semen that threatened to erupt.