Blood Law (40 page)

He
tried to read the council, but every one of them remained stoic.

“Lucien
Mondragon, do you have final words on your behalf?” the ancient one asked
without leaning back.

Lucien
strode arrogantly before the council. “With all due respect to the council,
while my brother paints a lovely picture of himself and casts me as the villain
of the world, let me remind all of you who it was that brokered the deal for
one thousand silver swords to arm all Lycans for the rising. Let me remind you
all who it was that funded that buy. Let me remind you that it was me who made
sure that the sacred battleground of our forefathers in the North was
overlooked for development.” He laughed low, looking at the three elders from
the North who could not hide their surprise quick enough. “Yeah, mighty elders
from the North, that was me. All me. While I may do business differently then
my fair-haired brother, what I do, regardless of method, is for the greater
good of the Lycan nation.” Lucien turned and faced Rafael. “Do not ever
question my loyalty to my people.”

He
strode back to his place, turned with his hands locked behind his back, and
faced the council. “I anxiously await your verdict.”

FALON’S
BELLY DROPPED at Lucien’s impassioned words. Not that she felt anything other
than contempt for him, but the council had reacted to them favorably, whereas
they had not done so with Rafael.

She
had wanted to scream at them to do the right thing. To insist that Rafael would
not kill his brother’s chosen one as a power play. But she knew if she said
anything, she would be revealed for what she was: prejudiced. A woman who did
not want to be sentenced to death. A woman in love.

Why
couldn’t they all see what she saw? Rafael was not perfect, but she knew he’d
believed the woman was a Slayer. Was she? If Rafe believed it, so would she.
But would the council?

“The
council will retreat for the evening. Return at dawn for our verdict,” Maleek
decreed. As the council left single file to the cabins that had been prepared
in the back of the compound, Falon put her hand over Rafael’s heart. It thudded
powerfully against her palm. He raised her hand to his lips as the pack swelled
around them, oddly quiet.

Falon
caught Lucien’s gaze across the room. For once, the arrogance was gone.
Instead, sadness lingered. It sank in at the moment for Falon that Lucien truly
in his heart didn’t believe his chosen one was a Slayer. He’d loved her. He had
lost his parents, his friends, and all he had was his brother, and in Lucien’s
heart, his brother betrayed him. He still had not come to terms with the pain
after all these years.

Do
not pity me, corazón. The verdict will play out as it should. Prepare yourself.

She
stiffened. Ah, the arrogance was back. I’ll see you in hell first, Luca.

Falon
turned her back on the prodigal son to gaze upon the good son. Her mood
softened. Rafael had done the right thing for the right reasons, and for his
efforts, he was being crucified. She slid her hand into his big warm one and
smiled up at him. It was a travesty what happened to the brothers’ parents.
They should be there for each other. But from what Falon had witnessed, Rafael
had extended the olive branch, and Lucien had refused it.

For
there to be such virulent hatred, there had to be great love first. The line
between love and hate was razor thin, and just as sharp. Would the split packs
ever stop bleeding? Could they?

A
deep sadness settled within Falon’s heart. The greatest tragedy of all was the
demolition of a great family. A three-hundred-year dynasty had fallen, with no
hope of resurrection.

“Rafe,”
Anton said, his anger apparent. “Lucien has warped the truth to make himself
seem like a misunderstood rebel with a cause.” He spit on the floor.

“Rafe,”
Yuri said, “the council sees through Lucien’s schemes. It is common knowledge
he is a thug among our people.”

Rafael
shook his head. “Lucien’s chosen one was murdered. It’s all he can see.”

“It’s
all he wants to see,” Falon muttered.

“It
is what it is. I have tried to get through to him, Falon. His anger prevents
any chance of healing.”

Rafael
stood for nearly an hour as one person after another congratulated him on his
speech, voiced their support, then turned around and disparaged Lucien. Despite
what was at stake, Rafe had grown weary of Lucien bashing. Maybe he had chosen
to see only what he wanted to see in his brother. There was good before. There
could be good again.

Falon
never once left Rafael’s side. When the pack finally drifted off, he pulled her
into his arms and kissed the top of her head.

She
lifted her lips to his. “Let’s go for a run.”

“Excellent
idea.”

They
undressed in their room, shifted, and exited through the open bathroom window
to the roof.

Side
by side, they ran for hours. For Falon it was cathartic. She knew if the
council came back in Lucien’s favor, she would have only one day to kill him if
she were to live. He intended to use her first. She would kill him before he
laid a hand on her. Her gut told her to do the deed here, before the council,
the alphas, and her pack, but Lucien had given her a better idea when he’d said
he would take her before he killed her. If she killed him here, there would be
witnesses, and she would not get a running head start. In his lair, she would.

She
stopped suddenly and shifted. Rafael skidded to a halt and did the same. Naked,
they stood facing each other, their chests rising and falling heavily from
their exertion.

“If
the council rules in Lucien’s favor, I will fight for my life, Rafa. I will
have no choice but to kill your brother,” Falon softly said. “Do you believe I
can do it?”

Rafael
walked toward her. The moon was shrouded behind dark clouds, but there was
plenty of light for a wolf. His features reflected his sorrow and his
desperation. “He is as strong as me, Falon.”

She
crooked a smile, though she did not feel carefree. “Are you insinuating I can’t
take you?”

He
shrugged as his gaze raked her body. “Let’s find out now,” he slyly said.

“Rafa,
listen to me,” she seriously said. “If the council finds in Lucien’s favor,
promise me you will not attack him.”

He
looked taken aback. “I will not promise that. Though it would tear me up to do
it, I will kill him before I allow him to harm you.”

“He
has plans for me before he exacts his vengeance.”

Rafael
snarled, “I will kill him if he touches a hair on your head.”

She
pressed her hand to his chest. His heart beat wildly against her palm. “Listen
to me. We must plan now for a future together if we are to have one. If you
kill Lucien, I live and you die. If I kill him, we both live.”

“I
will not live without you, Falon. I will not let you be his, not even for the
time it takes you to kill him.”

“You
must. The entire Lycan nation is at stake. Listen to my plan.”

He
shook his head, wanting to hear none of it.

“Don’t
be obtuse, Rafe! If the council finds in his favor, put up a fight, argue, rant
and rail, but allow me to go with him. After he drags me off like a conqueror,
I, too, will plead for my life, grovel, cry, act submissive. When we are alone,
and he is least suspecting, I will strike! I will send word with Talia. She
lied, Rafa. I felt her aura. She’s miserable. With Lucien gone, she will
return. As you prepare for the rising, I will lay low. Upon the rising, I will
meet you, fight beside you, and when we triumph, we will write a new covenant.”

He shook
his head. “No.”

Frustrated,
she pounded him hard on the chest. “Your pride refuses to see the reason in my
plan. It will work!”

“Too
risky.”

She
punched him again, this time harder. He grunted, grabbing her fist. She punched
him with her free hand. He grasped that one, too, wrapping her arms behind her
back. “Do not assault me, Falon. I am your alpha. You will obey me,” he growled
low.

She
struggled against him. A thin film of perspiration from the run made it hard
for him to hold on to her. Her anger mounted. If she had to beat him into
submission, she would. She would not allow him to sacrifice his life for hers
when he did not have to. That he lacked the confidence in her spurred her on.

“I
refuse to allow you to sacrifice your life for mine, when neither of us has to
die!” she cried. She twisted out of his grip and darted past him. He grabbed
her arm and yanked her back hard against his bare chest. Angry, frustrated, and
terrified, she pounded him with her fists, crying, screaming, and begging him not
to do it.

He
held her tightly in his arms and allowed her to take her fear and frustration
out on him.

When
she felt his erection against her thigh, she became more infuriated. “Is sex
all you want from me? How can you want sex when I’m pleading with you for your
life?”

He
tried to kiss her, but she bit his lips, drawing blood.

He
snarled, real anger. His grip tightened. “You little bitch.” He pushed her down
to the ground. Thick, loamy moss buffeted the impact. He dropped down on top of
her, grasping her fists when they came flying at him, yanking them over her
head.

“How
can I think of sex at a time like this?” he hoarsely asked. “Ask me how I
cannot breathe.” He nipped a swollen nipple. “How can I think of sex at a time
like this? How can I not when you stand before me, angry and desperate to take
a chance with your life for my own?” He nipped the other nipple. “How can I not
think of sex when your body glows with sweat beneath the moon? So perfect. So
damn fuckable.” He pressed his forehead to hers. “How can I not think of sex
when I watched you stand proud, regal, and beautiful as my chosen one before my
peers and the great council.” His cock thickened against her. He dipped his
head and kissed her parted lips, melting into her.

She
moaned and arched against him. He tore his lips from hers. Her musky fragrance
scented the air. “By all that is holy, Falon, how can I not want to make love
to you when your body calls to mine? How can I not think of making love to you
when I see your love for me shine in your eyes? Tell me, how am I not to think
of the most sacred act between a man and a woman when I am with you?”

Hot
tears burned her eyes. He kissed them away.

“My
love, the day I stop thinking of having sex with you is the day you bury me.”

He
moved into her then, slowly, reverently, exquisitely. His lips captured hers in
a slow, spiraling kiss. Their slick bodies rose and fell in perfect
synchronicity. Tears leaked from Falon’s eyes. This could be the last time she
felt Rafael inside of her.

Warm
lips kissed the moisture from her cheeks. Thick fingers smoothed across her
face. “Don’t cry, my love. Trust in me.”

His
gentleness was too much. She didn’t want gentle. She wanted rough; she wanted
him branded into every inch of her body, a reminder of who she belonged to.
Falon snarled. Hatred for Lucien exploded inside of her. How dare he destroy
what she held so near and dear to her heart!

“Gentle,”
Rafael softly said.

Falon
arched into him “I am yours, Rafa! No one can change that!” she cried.

His
body tightened; his fingers dug into her hair. He cupped her head with his big
hands as his thrusts turned from slow and languorous to deeply urgent. She felt
the beast in him roar. He grabbed her hands and raised them above her head. His
body drove into hers. His teeth nipped and laved her nipples raw. His fingers
dug into her wrists. His body continued to slam into hers. Tears ran down her
cheeks. The bittersweet pain of his lovemaking nearly broke her. How could she
live without this man?

Her
beast snarled. She would not.

This
was how she wanted him: fighting mad, passionate. The tension built; her anger,
fear, and frustration increased with every thrust. Her beast lunged and
scratched for release.

She
heard Rafael’s beast snarling for freedom. Her own answered.

A
HARD WAVE of down-and-dirty primal desire crashed through Falon. Her body
thrummed, her pussy creamed, her breasts swelled.

She
wanted Rafael’s beast within. He pulled out of her and roughly turned her over
onto all fours. When he mounted her, he nipped her neck, holding on to her
slick skin. Falon’s thighs quivered in anticipation. Just as he fully
penetrated her, she felt his body shift. Falon gasped at the sensation and
followed his lead.

The
animal aspect of their mating was nothing like Falon expected. It was more, it
was less, it was basic, primal, and simplistic. There was no courting, no sweet
words of encouragement, no soft caresses. But they didn’t need any of that.
Stripped down, raw, they mated. There was no other word to describe the way
Rafael’s wolf cleaved to her she-wolf. It was just as profound, and as much a
part of them as their human side.

Just
as their mating reached a fevered pitch, Rafael shifted. Falon growled, and
breathlessly she followed him.