Undying Hope (30 page)

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Authors: Emma Weylin

BOOK: Undying Hope
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The way Wolf kept his home amazed Donovan. He knew his brother made enough money for a comfortable home, but Wolf insisted on living in a one-room apartment above the Wolf Lodge with one threadbare over-sized chair and a mattress on the floor in the bedroom. The rest of his dwelling had boxes stacked against the walls, and in the corner was a table with pages and pages, piled nearly to the eight-foot ceiling with a tiny space for him to sit and work by the only light in the main area focused over the table.

But then, Wolf had been unusual for a long time. For many centuries, Donovan had believed his brother had given up his emotions in the same way as Ean had done, only to find that he had not. He was part deadly warrior and part philosopher. The odd mix, even for their kind, helped Wolf keep the
treòir
locked inside, so Donovan didn’t pry. They stood in the small living room, looking at each other. Wolf’s deep voice rumbled out. “She is in the bedroom. I put her to sleep when we arrived.”

“Brother,” Donovan started.

“Take my room for the night. I have hunting to do.” Just like that, Wolf was gone.

Donovan shook his head and went to the bedroom door. She was curled into Nikon with Medea on the wolf’s other side, Apollo resting at her feet. The silver wolf lifted his head and then glided out of the room on silent paws. Donovan looked at her for a long time, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. The
treòir
was watching her, too.

“What kind of magic does she have? She is making me feel…strange.”

Donovan’s mouth curved. “It’s called love. We are supposed to feel this way for our lifebond,” he said in a soft tone.

“This love thing is dangerous. You should limit it.”

“Not likely.”
He was mildly amused.
“One moment of love is worth an eternity of hell.”

“Perhaps, but it makes your thinking unclear.”

“Isn’t that what you are for? To make sure I don’t fuck this up any more than we already have?”

Now there was humor in the tone. “
So now I am acceptable to you.”

“I never said I had all the answers. We will need to talk more before I let a merge happen. I need to know some things that might help our kind.”

“Then we talk now.”

“No, now we hold Haven and be thankful she was not harmed.”
Donovan tugged his shirt over his head and kicked off his shoes before tossing everything into the corner of the room barely big enough for the king-sized mattress on the floor. He knelt down and moved in next to Haven, his arms pulling her close to him. The wolves left the room a moment later. Donovan stroked the soft tresses of her hair, needing the silkiness against his rough hands. He breathed in her sweet scent, letting it wash through him, calming him.

* * * *

The
treòir
grew still in Quinn’s mind. This was all too confusing. For centuries, the man had pitted their wills, neither one ever claiming complete victory over the other. Now, with the lifebond at stake, the man was simply willing to compromise, give in just enough to calm the rage within the
treòir
, to let it free from the darkest corners of the mind to share in a being they both found enticing and enchanting.

Haven’s eyes fluttered and then opened. Her face lit with a lazy, half-sleepy smile. She was beautiful, all the more so when staunch concern filled her pale eyes. She was fully awake in the next moment. Her hands moved over Quinn, touching every part of him to make sure he hadn’t been injured. Her hair draped over his chest, causing his skin to tingle with fire as the tips brushed against him. The
treòir
didn’t understand the reaction. Always before, when the man found a woman to sedate the needs of the male body, the
treòir
would use the time to sleep. It was of no importance to him. He knew this woman was different, as their physical connection seemed just as important as the mental.

The
treòir
decided now would be the time to share in the experience. Lust was a powerful motivator. Quinn’s body reacted to the mere sight of Haven above him. Her eyes never left his face as she pulled her shirt off, and immediately, Quinn’s hands palmed her soft, firm breasts, molding them into his hands, letting his thumbs brush over the taught nipples. The tiny erotic sounds that came from her throat as her head dropped back brought Quinn to full arousal.

The
treòir
urged him to take her right then, but he refused.
“Gentle,”
Quinn intoned. Then he showed the
treòir
how to love Haven the way Quinn knew she needed to be loved. His hands moved over her flesh, taking in the softness, feeling every part of her, memorizing every curve, every sensitive spot. His hands were light as they moved over her, taking his pleasure from what he was giving her.

Haven’s responses both delighted and awakened the
treòir
. He crept closer to the surface of Quinn’s mind, wanting to feel what he was feeling. Needing to watch her body shiver as he touched her, needing to see the love in her eyes, the complete trust she had for Quinn, for them. It both awed and terrified the
treòir
. He’d been so cruel to her, so willing to enforce his total dominance over her, but here, now, even as she was above Quinn, she was giving herself to him. She offered her body for his pleasure, for his comfort. Her hands stroked and inflamed him, bringing a boil of desire to Quinn’s blood, and the
treòir
couldn’t understand why he hadn’t already thrust himself into her, staking his claim.

“Not yet. This is just the beginning,”
Quinn counseled him. The
treòir
started to retreat when Haven’s body convulsed after Quinn buried his fingers deep into her body.

“Stop.”
The tone was high alarm, almost panicked. “
You’re hurting her.”

Quinn laughed quietly in his mind. “
She is as far from hurt as a woman can be.”
He looped his arm around Haven and gently turned her onto her back. He hooked his fingers into her pants and slid them off her still quivering body. His mouth was nestled into the apex of her legs a moment later. Her hips came up off the mattress, her hand tangling in his hair, pulling his head closer. He let out a soft, possessive growl as his tongue licked over her before he pushed it into her soft core.

“What are you doing to her? She’s screaming!”

“Isn’t it great?”
Quinn said with a lazy drawl, loving how her body moved against his, wiggling a small protest, even as she urged his head closer.

The
treòir
was shocked, appalled, but Haven’s reaction to this crude behavior was the most astonishing of all. She was enjoying this strange assault Quinn was delivering to her tiny body, begging him for more, urging him to go faster, and taking her farther away from him. He reached out, gripping her mind and pulling her back, afraid that Quinn was doing something truly horrible to her, but all he found was her opening up further to Quinn, to them, giving herself over to him.

Her body did the strange convulsion again, and the
treòir
was afraid Quinn was doing something terribly wrong. Quinn laughed at him again. “
No, I am doing everything exactly right. That will teach you to sleep during the good parts of life.”

The
treòir
never felt anxiety before, but he felt it now, and he resented Quinn for the lesson, but crept even closer to the surface when Quinn finally shed his own pants. He kissed his way up her flat belly, spending a long time letting his mouth tease each of her breasts before he positioned himself over her. He then sank into her hot, soft core. Her reaction was instant. Her hips moved up to meet his with urgent demand. Her hands blazed feather light over his skin, bringing sparks of flame with them. Her body moved with his, giving him all of herself in a way the
treòir
couldn’t comprehend. The way their bodies entwined was beautiful. He watched her face through Quinn’s eyes with a single-minded fascination, each sound she made sending sparks of fire through his blood, demanding he bury himself so deep inside of her, she’d never get him out, and she didn’t want him to.

She was connected to him—body, mind, and soul. Everything she offered up freely for his taking, and Quinn demanded she give him more. He filled her with long pulse-pounding strokes. Each one bringing her closer and closer to a soul-shattering climax, his hips thrusting into her. She met his pace, her body arching off the mattress, sounds of sweet ecstasy escaping her throat.

The
treòir
was rocked down to his very foundation when both Haven and Quinn released the madness building inside of them. It was a powerful, intoxicating force, and he felt a surge of magic like he’d never felt before pour through him, through them both, binding them closer together, bringing them closer to being one.

Quinn held himself above Haven, his massive shoulders trembling. He brushed damp hair away from her face. Her eyes shined bright with love and trust. She bit her lip and smiled in a coyway. Her arm looped around his shoulder, and she pulled herself up to bury her face in his chest. He rolled to his side, drawing her closer. He brushed his mouth over hers in a tender kiss. “I love you, my sweet Haven.”

She moaned in a deliciously lazy way. “And I love you.”

“Sleep, my love.”

The
treòir
put power into those words, knowing her still quivering body needed rest. He stayed close as Haven’s breathing evened out, and she settled into a warm, restful sleep.

“What the hell was that?

Quinn Chuckled.
“It is called making love.”

“Still strange. How could you make her scream like that?”

“Humans call it an orgasm. They are quite pleasurable and stress relieving.”
Quinn’s tone was light, full of laughter.

“You’re making fun of me.”

“Why yes, I am.”

“That’s a dangerous thing to do.”

“Maybe, but are you really going to do something to upset her when she’s so relaxed?”

The
treòir
growled low.
“No, but you knew that already.”

He receded back into his corner all on his own to sulk and think over what had just occurred, leaving Quinn free to let his mind wander on its own. The man was still stroking Haven’s hair when he, too, gave into the need for restful sleep.

* * * *

The next day Haven discovered the mess in the penthouse. She groaned. The lasagna had burned, filling the entire place with smoke. Luckily, one of the maintenance men had thought to check on Quinn after the inspectors let everyone back into the building. They had turned the oven off and opened a window. Pots and pans littered the kitchen. Plates and other dishes were shattered on the floor. Weapons of every kind were scattered throughout, and there was a dark red congealed pool of blood in the middle of the hallway. Her breath shuddered out and her knees wobbled. She braced herself on the doorjamb leading into the hall and then forced it all back. Quinn was in his office, making phone calls. Haven decided to leave everything and went to take a shower and get changed into something different before she was ready to tackle the clean-up.

Nikon followed her around, keeping a close eye on her.

“I’m not going to break.” She pulled her hair into a ponytail.

“No, but you have suffered trauma. The dark one wants me to keep a close eye on you.”

She made a face as she carefully tossed broken crockery into the trashcan. “When doesn’t he want someone to have a close eye on me?” She shook her head, not needing an answer. “All of this stuff is going to have to be replaced.”

Quinn had quietly come into the room. “We’ll go shopping soon. We’ll start making this place into what you want it.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “I’m kind of getting used to the whole caveman style you’ve got going. It’s better than Wolf’s Neanderthal-man look, anyway. Maybe we can add some flowers so everyone knows you’ve captured your mate.”

He snorted at her humor. “I’d rather line the walls with erotic photos of you.”

She gave an indignant squawk. “See? Caveman!”

Quinn pulled her up to her feet and wrapped his arms around her. “I have some people coming to clean this place up. I don’t want you touching things, and you are not allowed near the hall until that’s been taken care of. What do you say we go for that cell phone and go get the will redrafted?”

“You’re too good to me.” She turned her face into him for a moment. “I need to see Bastian. Can you take me, please?”

“Of course, sweetheart, I should have known you’d want to see him. We’ll take him with us. You need some time with him.”

“Thank you.” She hugged him tight. “How’s your passenger?”

He let out a hearty laugh. “Apparently, how I can make your body move for me confuses him. He’s been hiding since last night.”

“Seriously? The big, bad wolf is afraid of sex? That’s just… I don’t know what, but it’s just.” She laughed quietly, then let out a sigh as she surveyed the kitchen again. “You’re sure you want to pay people to clean this? I can do it.”

He snorted. “And deny someone their livelihood?”

She growled at him. The sound coming out of her still startled her, but it was stress relieving. “That’s not fair. I try not to spend all of your hard earned money, and you keep finding ways for me to.”

He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you. Please, don’t ever change. I need you just as you are.”

Her insides warmed as delight streaked through her, but she kept glaring at him. “Not even a billion dollars can last forever.”

“Yes it can, as long as I keep making money.” He guided her toward the coat closet. “And he and I both agree that you don’t need any more harmful memories of our home.”

“Well,” she said with slight sarcasm, “then I really do have no hope of winning the argument if you both actually agree on something. Do I need to worry about lightning or a meteor trying to strike us?”

He helped her with her coat and then put on his own. “Maybe, so you’d better stay close.”

She laughed. “You can’t stop a meteor, can you?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never tried before, but I’m sure I’d find a way if it was aimed at you.”

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