Black Dalliances (A Blushing Death Novel) (9 page)

BOOK: Black Dalliances (A Blushing Death Novel)
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I jerked with the shock waves of pleasure that rippled through me. His possession and power surrounded me, mingling with my own. He thrust again and again as my Eithina and my body cried out for more.

“Yes,” I whimpered.

The strength of his power surged in a wave of heat as his cock pumped in my body. With each thrust, Dean’s power mingled more with my own magic to the point I couldn’t tell his from mine. The sweet pressure of bliss built again at my core and the sound of his body meeting mine rang through my ears in a hard slap of skin on skin.

The heady scent of sex, wolf, and Pack filled the room, making me almost dizzy. My heart and body knew I belonged to him as much as he belonged to me. I dug my nails into his skin as the rush of orgasm hit its crescendo and almost broke me.

“Tre,” I breathed, arching my back off the bed. “Please,” I begged as the orgasm overtook me, not knowing what I was begging for. My body gripped and tugged at him, wanting everything he had. Swelling within me, his body tensed as he growled against my ear. Pouring his desire into me in a hot stream, he collapsed.

I couldn’t catch my breath as my body tightened around him in spasm after spasm of pleasure. Leaning down, he kissed me as if it was the last time.

Chapter 7

Dean broke the kiss, breathless, as he threw his head back and roared. The harsh, vibrant sound filled the house with life.

I couldn’t stop touching him. Running my hands down his heated chest, and licked the salty sweat from his skin. He tasted like home.

“Baby, you have to let me go.” He grinned down at me.

“What?”

“You’re clamped around me like a vise,” he said, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest.

“Oh.”

I tried to focus on my muscles. Hell, at that point, I’d settle on any grouping of muscles I could think of but I had nothing left.

“I don’t think I can,” I said, sucking my bottom lip between my teeth in embarrassment.

Slipping his hand beneath me, he rolled us until I was straddling him again. Confusion spread across my face as I peered down at his satisfied eyes.

“You lost too much weight while you were gone. I don’t want to crush you,” he said.

I lay down on his chest, resting my head against the thunderous heartbeat. It was strong, steady, and mine.

“I’ve wanted to do that for too long,” he breathed into my hair, brushing a few strands out of my face.

“Mmmm,” I agreed without moving. I wasn’t sure I could anyway. He was still large inside me and the idea of him getting hard again and starting where he’d left off sent echoes of orgasms through me.

“Is that all I get?” He laughed but then the sound hitched during another spasm. “Damn, woman,” he groaned as his whole body tightened beneath me at the sensation.

“Mmmm, is all I’m capable of at the moment,” I said, finally relaxing around him with a sigh.

He lifted me up, sliding out of me and my body’s vise grip. Laying me down beside him, I curled into the crook of his shoulder like I’d been there my whole life.

I draped a leg over him, letting his warmth soak into me as the air conditioning sent gooseflesh across my backside. Dean tugged the covers up over me and tucked us in. His power hummed inside of me and the contentment of his wolf pulsed as if his magic and mine were linked. I was his Eithina and now the bond we shared couldn’t be denied.

“Dahlia, we need to talk,” he said, stroking my hair in long, even strokes. His fingers skimmed down my back in a light caress that made my skin tingle long after his fingers moved on.

“I’m on the pill.”

“No,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Good but no.”

I tilted my face up to his. “Then what?” Draping my arm over his chest, I inched closer to him. He was so warm and safe under me. Solid and steady. My brick wall against the world.

“Janey.”

“Oh,” I snipped, burying my face in his neck. I couldn’t meet his eyes. I didn’t want him to see the emotion I couldn’t hide and couldn’t explain.

There was no reason for me to be jealous. The woman was dead for fuck’s sakes and had been for decades and decades. But the thought of Dean being married and some other woman making him happy made my blood boil, made me sick to my stomach with envy.

“I feel like I need to explain.” His deep voice rumbled in his chest as he stroked my hair.

“You don’t need to explain anything,” I said.

I breathed in his scent, finding my own mixed in with his. Mine was floral and the sting of the first frost, mixing with his musk, woodsy scent of early spring. I was better with the scent of him in my nose. I could forget the sting of jealousy bubbling in the pit of my stomach.

“I loved Janey,” he said softly. “I still love her.”

I closed my eyes and concentrated on maintaining my breathing, keeping it even as my heart thundered in my chest. I wanted to be the woman who was okay living with the memory of a wife everyone adored. But I wasn’t. I was the woman people feared and whispered about in dark corners. I was okay with that now. In comparison to
Saint Janey,
though, I kept coming up short and I didn’t know how to deal with that.

“I’m still mad as hell at her,” he said with a growl that vibrated his entire body.

My muscles tightened at his tone and his words. That was the second time he’d sworn in as many minutes and he was making me nervous.

“Mad?” I asked, still too confused and vulnerable. So, like a coward, I kept my nose buried near his ear.

“Yes, mad,” he snapped, then tapped me on the shoulder with a light touch. “Your heart’s pounding and you reek of anxiety. You can’t hide from me,” he whispered into my hair before brushing his lips across my forehead.

I took a deep breath and propped myself up.
I could look down at his face. I could do this.

“All right,” I said, finally meeting his warm, nonjudgmental gaze. “Let’s talk about this. Why are you mad?”

The corner of his lips turned up in a crooked little grin that had my stomach fluttering. “When I was changed,” he said and the smile disappeared from his face. “It was out of necessity. I was with Tag, with no idea what he was at the time. When the train went off the tracks, I was as good as dead. Tag changed all that. At first, Janey was great. She loved me. Didn’t care what I was. Just that I’d survived.” He took a deep breath, staring off into nothing as he absently stroked down the length of my arm.

The acrid stench of regret wafted off him in waves, searing my senses. My heart hurt for him. At the same time, I wanted to punch him in the face for making me feel this way.

“She got older,” he said.

“And you weren’t.” A glimmer of understanding and sadness washed over me.
Would the same happen to me?

“No, I wasn’t. She wanted to be changed but I couldn’t let her do it,” he said, turning to meet my gaze. “Surviving the change is hard. You have to be close to death for the magic to take over, to work.”

“She wasn’t strong enough?” I asked, brushing my fingertips across his furrowed brow.

“She was too gentle. Kind. I didn’t want her to experience the violence of Pack life,” he said, stroking my arm.

“She didn’t listen, did she?”

“She found someone who wanted to dominate her and wasn’t afraid of me yet. Her body was discovered the next morning, partly shifted.”

“Did you kill him?” I asked matter-of-factly. If he hadn’t, I’d kill the bastard for putting that look on Dean’s face. The grin he turned up to me caught me off guard.

“That’s why I love you. So tough and pragmatic,” he said, raising my palm to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss in the center, sending warmth shooting through me.

“I can’t be her, Dean. I don’t even want to try,” I said, shaking my head in defiance. “I’m not gentle or kind. I’m just me.”

“First, in this room, I don’t want to be Dean to you. I want to be Tre. Second, baby, I don’t want you to be her. I love
you
,” he said, a wicked grin turning up the corners of his luscious mouth. “Janey would never have done what you did to me tonight.”

“Oh,” I said, knowing full well that my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“I want you to be vicious and pragmatic. To be you. You’re exactly what I and the Pack need. You’re what Pat needs, too. Even if he doesn’t realize it yet.”

“I feel like I can’t compete. I know here,” I said, tapping my index finger on my temple, “that it’s not a competition between Janey and me, but here,” I said, sliding my hand down and tapping my chest, “is a different story.”

Cupping my face in his hands, he brushed his full lips against mine in a tender, intimate taste that ended too soon.

“There’s no comparison. You’re mine in a way Janey never could have been.”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. That was some cheesy shit. Catching my chin in his hand, he forced me to meet his gaze.

“Dahlia, you’re in my bones. I hum when you’re near. I ache to touch you.”

“I’m sorry. I’m being childish and I can’t seem to stop myself. I should be supportive and understanding. I should be
that
woman for you.”


That
woman wouldn’t be you.” He laughed, a satisfied smile crept across his lips. “You’re more the
punch-a-guy-in-the-gut
kinda woman,” he slipped in quick before I connected my fist with his shoulder. “Omph,” he groaned, smiling. “I like it.”

I shut him up with a kiss.

Hardening against my pelvis, his cock went rigid, ready beneath me as I kissed him deeper. I slid my leg over his middle and slipped over him, plunging him into me before he had a chance to protest. Breaking the kiss and throwing my hair back, I rode him in a slow, agonizing roll of my hips. His hands cupped my breasts, touching and teasing as I moved.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he groaned.

“It was this or listen to you yap,” I said, a half-dazed grin on my face.

“I’m shutting up. Oh God, baby, I’m shutting up.”

Chapter 8

Faerie, the Outer Realm; Date Unknown

Milagra’s skin was filthy and her hair was caked with grease, dirt, and sweat. Her clothes were torn and tattered to shreds, and she smelled. Her own body odor and feces burned her sensitive nostrils as she cowered in the corner clutching her knees to her chest. Underneath everything else was the faint, copper smell of blood.  

A woman screamed again from down the hall, sending shivers through Milagra’s body. Someone was always screaming. A shrill cackle rang through her cell, sounding closer than the scream and almost solid. The cackle pierced her ears, making her stomach twist with dread. She’d never seen whom it belonged to but every time it rent the air, she scuttled for the safest corner, no matter how dark.

She wished she could see the room she was in, see beyond the inky blackness that continuously closed in on her. The cold, sticky, rough edges of the stones lining her cell dug into her flesh but the smells bombarded her, confused her, and sent chills through her shivering body.

Tears stung her eyes as she tried to hold them back. She hadn’t cried in days, she was almost sure of it but she couldn’t be sure. How long each day was? How long she’d been in the dark hole? She’d stopped counting when she could no longer tell day from night.

Shivering again, Milagra was cold all the time but refused to shift to wolf. That’s what he wanted. She knew that now, knew that her fear of the dark was the reason he kept her there. He wanted her stronger, to shift and be wolf. He wanted her for himself.

“Saeran’s not coming for you,” his voice whispered over the stale, dark air of her cell again and around the maniacal cackle.

Milagra’s entire body tensed at the sound of his deep, mocking voice rippling across her skin like a sickening caress. She knew he wasn’t there in the flesh but, somehow, he could see her, hear her, and touch her. However, she couldn’t smell him and she hadn’t yet forgotten the stench of him.

“Yes, he will,” she bit out, raising her chin from her knees in protest.

He laughed at her defiance, a deep chuckle rumbling through the tiny space, almost shaking her cell as it filled her ears with the harsh coarseness of his mockery. His laugh stroked her and sank deep into her bones. She cowered back into the dark corner, defiance forgotten and understanding nothing but fear.

“No one is coming for you. You, my
Sweetling
, belong to me now and for the rest of time.” A hand, as light and gentle as wind brushed her cheek, making her recoil instinctually at his touch, real or not.

“He will,” she sobbed, grasping her knees tight against her chest. “He will. I know it.”

His laughter rang out again, shaking the stones of her cell.

A cleansing, hot tear streaked down her dirty face and suddenly, she didn’t care anymore what that monster thought of her. She just wanted to go home.

Chapter 9

Columbus Ohio, Present Day

Moisture from the thunderstorms earlier in the day made the air thick, heavy. The grass was wet and the entire field smelled like the mildewed greenery of an aquarium. I trampled through the tall grass and was thankful Jade had suggested I buy work boots.

Ev trekked behind me and to the left. Anxiety rippled off of him in hot waves, making me nauseous. If he didn’t calm down, he’d be seen as weak and the entire Pack would turn on him.

“Will you calm down, please?” I hissed. I didn’t want the entire Pack to see and smell his fear. He was submissive already; they didn’t need to know he was scared shitless too.

“What if they don’t like me?” he asked in the same hushed tone, sounding too much like a kid headed off to his first day at school. I stopped mid-step, waiting for him to catch up. I almost laughed out loud at the vision in my head of Ev with a lunch box and backpack.

The kid had moved into the last bedroom in the new house a few days ago, against Dean’s wishes. Dean wanted the place to ourselves for a while, big surprise. But Ev had no one. Not yet. Maybe the Pack would help him, give him some sense of belonging. I’d discovered how important it was to have a place where I felt accepted, where I felt like I was home. I wanted that for Ev. Soriada’s death had been hard for him. In Marabelle’s house, he’d been too preoccupied trying to survive to notice her bare, broken body and what Marabelle’s colony had done to her. I’d rushed him out before he could see her skinned and broken body. No one needed to see someone they loved like that. This was his chance to start again, and I would make sure he got that chance.

I turned to him and exhaled long and hard, forcing my heart to slow. “You’ll be fine. They have to accept you. After tonight, you’ll be Pack. Just stick close to Kurt, he’ll watch over you during the hunt and you’ll be fine,” I said, brushing a thick strand of chestnut hair from his face. “Okay?”

He nodded, still hesitant as he met my eyes but his shoulders squared and he lifted his chin. To convince himself or me, I wasn’t sure. Taking his hand in mine, I led him through the grass and trees to the clearing of the Manit. Quite a few people were already assembled, more than I remembered in the last monthly werewolf gathering I’d attended.

In the center of the gathered Pack, Dean stood with his arms folded tight over his solid chest. He peered out over the gathering crowd. Seeming calm, in charge, and sexy as hell, Dean was a force to be reckoned with and my heart raced in response. I could still taste the salt of his skin on the tip of my tongue if I thought about it hard enough. And I did.

Fifty people, maybe more, stood, mulling around him, waiting on pins and needles for a single word from their king, their Gaoh. Sinking down below the horizon, the sun cast a fading orange glow over the tall green grass. Fifteen minutes stood between us and full dark and tension built, a storm brewing as anticipation grew and the moon rose higher.

Watching Dean, imposing and confident, there was no question he was in charge. The man oozed authority and everyone else paled in comparison. The realization crept over me that he was mine. Desire burned through me, making things low in my body tighten and ache with the thought. Glancing up to see Dean’s wolf eyes focused on me with a matching hunger radiating in their clear depths, my body flushed and tingled in anticipation. His lips curled up in a carnal smile that made me shiver. He knew exactly how he affected me and the satisfaction in his smirk made me . . . happy.

“Ugh, get a room,” Ev muttered, thinking only I would hear him. Not used to being in a real Pack with strong werewolves, his voice wasn’t soft enough to keep his comment from the group or Dean.

“We have one,
pup
,” Dean clipped without tearing his gaze from mine. “It’s down the hall from yours.” He didn’t bother to hide the bite in his tone.

“Pouting won’t change it,” I said with a playful smile.

“I’m not
pouting
,” Dean spat.

“Oh?” I asked, noticing the grim line of Dean’s mouth and the deep V of his brows.

Standing beside Dean, Kurt tried to stifle his laughter with a hardy attempt at a cough. I glared at him, making him straighten and regain control, swallowing his laughter down. I could tease Dean but no one else could. I wouldn’t let anyone make a mockery of him.

Making my way through the crowd toward them, a familiar sharp chill spread across my skin. I turned as Alex and Niyati strode through the copse of trees, hand in hand, approaching the rest of the group with confidence and without shame. I guess they weren’t hiding anymore.

Niyati, a tall Indian woman originally from Delhi with long black hair that shimmered even in the moonlight, hadn’t wanted anyone to know she was both a lesbian and dating a vampire. I think it was the dating a vampire part that bothered Niyati the most but I didn’t interfere. Alex was more than 600 years old. I figured she could fend for herself. They seemed happy though and that’s what mattered to me.

Niyati’s dark eyes glittered as she laughed at something Alex whispered against her ear. Her dark, Indian hair fell loose down her back in long, silky tendrils. It was unusual for outsiders to come to the Manit but I had a feeling Patrick was behind it, wanting to keep his eye on everything. I hoped he wanted to know what I was doing. My stomach churned, and I shoved the uncertainty bubbling in my gut away. Stewing and feeling bad for myself wouldn’t do me any good.

Turning, I focused on Dean. I’d planned on running with the Pack but with Alex around, it wasn’t an option. I couldn’t let Patrick find out about my wolf form secondhand. I didn’t need to hurt him more than I already had. Meeting my gaze, Dean nodded, coming to the same conclusion I had when Alex stepped from the tree line.

“Ev?”

“Yeah?” he breathed, stepping up beside me.

“Run and get my gun and holster,” I mumbled as my eyes followed Alex into the crowd.

“But I thought,” he started to protest but I cut him off with an almost imperceptible shake of my head.

“Change of plans.”

He nodded and took off back toward his car, jogging into the deepening darkness. I’d brought a weapon and holster with me. I couldn’t help it. I felt better with a weapon around. Since I’d planned on running with the Pack, I’d left it in the car. Now, I needed it, wanted it. My fingers itched to wrap around the butt of the Smith and Wesson 1911 and squeeze the metal in my grip.

As I pushed through the crowd, whispers and soft gasps brushed by me. Some of them recognized me. Their whispered warnings filled my now all-too-sensitive ears. I heard fear in those whispers but there was hope, too.

“She’s back.”

“Where’s she been?”

“Maybe he won’t be such a bastard now.”

That last one made me smile. As I stepped from the circle of the Pack and took the ten paces to Dean’s side, the crowd hushed. I couldn’t help but smile at the man like a big dopey kid. Reaching out, he clasped my hand in his larger one and yanked me to his side. My body slammed into his firm muscles, transferring the heat of his body to me.

“So, how long until we can go back home?” I whispered in a hushed tone so no one else would hear.

“In a hurry, are you?” The grin tweaking the corner of his mouth was the only indication he gave of emotion but I’d seen it.

“You have no idea,” I said, raising my eyebrows suggestively, teasing him.

Dean laughed, his deep chuckle rumbled through the night and the entire Pack of werewolves stopped in their tracks, holding their collective breath at the foreign sound emanating from their Gaoh. It caught Alex off guard too and she stopped mid-stride, hell, mid-sentence and stared, evaluating us.

“My Eithina,” Kurt called, kneeling before me.

“Kurt,” I protested, but was cut off by Tag.

“My Eithina,” Tag bellowed, falling to one knee.

One by one, each of them dropped to their knees with the exception of a few I’d never seen before.

Ev jogged, breaking free of the trees with my gun and holster in his hands. He heard the last of them call me Eithina and witnessed most of the crowd on their knees. Dropping alongside them and to one knee, Ev gave me a big
I-knew-it
smirk.

“How can she be Eithina? She’s human?” someone asked from the back.

I didn’t recognize the voice but I noticed she was one of the few still standing.

“Shhh,” the man kneeling next to her said. “Don’t you know who she is?”

The poor woman glanced around for someone to answer but no one seemed brave enough to say it out loud.

“I’m The Blushing Death,” I stated, no longer ashamed of what and who I was. The name carried weight and I’d learned how to use it.

Her eyes widened in fear, and I could smell the sweet scent of it on the breeze. Before I could tell her it was no big deal, she dropped to her knees.

Great! Just great! All I needed was to kick this Eithina thing off with fear.

Everett got to his feet, weaving in-between the kneeling crowd until he was close enough to hand my gun and holster to me. I grabbed it, slinging my arm through and strapping it across my back. I slid the gun home and glanced up at the crowd.

Ev backed away, bowed at the waist, as if we were holding court. When he found room in the crowd, he dropped to his knee with that same stupid grin on his face.
Perfect.

“Let us begin the ceremony,” Amelia called in her melodious soprano as she stepped from the crowd.

The Pack stilled and the whispers died as their eyes rose to Amelia, Dean, and me.

Amelia was the Pack’s justice, their Utu. She stepped before the gathered crowd, elegant and commanding, like a princess governing her realm. Standing in the moonlight with the soft silver light shimmering off her white hair, she seemed too delicate to be a werewolf with her petite stature and small hands. I knew from experience, however, that Amelia had no qualms about carrying out her role as Justice. I’d watched her with my own eyes stake Jackson with two-foot long silver spikes to the ground through his appendages as punishment. The thought of it still gave me chills.

Turning my focus from the impish middle-aged woman with dark chocolate skin and stark white hair, I held Dean’s gaze. He grinned at me as magic swarmed around him in scorching hot waves. A long, sharp claw slid effortlessly from his index finger and I smirked as the pack behind me gasped.

Changing only one aspect of yourself was difficult. It had taken me hours of practice and the promise of death for me to get it right. Dean was powerful, and now, no one would doubt him.

“Blood of my blood,” he whispered, slashing the claw across the palm of his hand. His warm blood bubbled to the surface and streaked a dark crimson pool in his hand. “Come,” he commanded with the ring of easy authority.

One by one, the new Pack members came and knelt before him, taking his wrist in hand and licking the blood from his palm until their tongues were stained with the iron-rich fluid. They took his power into themselves, becoming Pack.

The line moved until only Everett was left. My chest swelled in what I could only identify as pride. He seemed happy, smiling with a light shining in his navy eyes that I’d never seen before. He knelt before Dean and drank of his new Alpha’s blood.

When I’d first met Ev, he’d carried an emptiness in his eyes. After Soraida’s death, I was sure a piece of him had died along with her. Now, I saw hope. He still missed her. He would probably always miss her. The wound was still fresh enough that I sometimes caught glimpses of it when he thought I wasn’t looking but he could be happy with us. I could already see it as the magic of Pack washed over him, accepting him. Ev shot me a wink and stepped back into the crowd.
Cheeky bastard.

Dean stepped before me with a grave expression on his face that didn’t match the excitement in his beautiful Caribbean blue eyes.

“Dahlia.” His voice was strong and sure as my name fell from his very kissable lips.

Get your mind out of the gutter!

“My Eithina,” he stated, grabbing my hand in his and extending my arm out. “Blood of my blood as I am blood of your blood,” he called out, slicing his claw across my palm.

Gasping, I closed of my eyes.
Damn, that stung!
I’d known it was coming. I would heal, I kept telling myself. But damn if that little slice didn’t hurt like a son of a bitch.
Why was it always the shallow ones that hurt the worst?
I opened my eyes, taking in a deep breath through the sting.

He grinned at me, his bright blue eyes twinkling with a mocking glint that set my teeth on edge.
Damn it!
It hurt and he could go stuff it. Tightening my lips in sheer agitation, he cleared his throat, wiping all signs of mirth from his expression.

“Protect me as I protect you. Guide and protect the Pack as I guide and protect them. Give of yourself as I give of myself. We are mated as Gaoh and Eithina of the Great Lakes Pack,” he bellowed. Pride rung strong through his voice. It was the most I’d ever heard him say in public.

He bent down, licking the blood from my hand, his hot tongue caressing a lecherous line across sensitive flesh. His gaze met mine as he pressed a soft kiss in the center of my already healing palm, sending heat coursing through my veins to pool between my thighs. I would’ve given almost anything to be at home in bed with that look in his eyes. I knew every one of them could smell my desire on the wind and I didn’t even care.

He cleared his throat and I glanced up, remembering we weren’t alone. Wiping the image of his hands on my body, the taste of him, and his solid girth filling my body up from my mind, I met his heated stare. I was supposed to do something, wasn’t I?

His lips twitched up as he waited, eyes peering down at me through incredibly dark, thick lashes. Yep, he definitely smelled my desire. I brought his hand to my lips without taking my eyes from his. Skimming my tongue across his warm, salty skin, the sweet copper flavor of his blood coated my mouth.

BOOK: Black Dalliances (A Blushing Death Novel)
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