Defying Destiny (39 page)

been born with the crescent moon on his

forehead and thus it became the sign of his

power. A permanent solution was up to

him as the newly ordained Wolf Guardian.

If he was ever to find a permanent peace

between his mother’s people and his

father’s then he would have to break the

curse on his own.

His only clues would be found in the

dreams of the woman he loved, but only

under the circumstances that she was

human. My fondest wish for him is that he

might come to accept both sides of

himself: the Wolf, which he clings to

desperately, and the human which he

obsessively denies, just as he has denied

that I am his father.

One sentence jumped out at Maralee

as she read.
Clues in the dreams of the

woman he loved, but only if she were

human?
She reread the passage several

times, hoping that somehow she had

misinterpreted the sage’s final words. It

couldn’t be. It just couldn’t. Nash’s death

could not be the answer to the curse. It

was simply impossible. And even if it

were the answer, he’d never do something

like that just to break the curse. Would he?

“Yes, he would,” she whispered, a

tear tracing a path over her cheek. “That is

why I must never tell him what I dream.”

She heard the bedroom door open and

Nash’s soft footsteps approach. She turned

to the front of the book and pretended to

be reading it from the beginning. She

tensed when his paused behind her, hands

sliding over her shoulders and then lower

to cup her breasts.

“I was dreaming about you,” he

murmured, leaning over the back of the

chair so he could kiss her just beneath her

earlobe. “I woke up determined to make

my dream a reality, but you were

missing.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I thought

I should start trying to figure out how to

break this curse.”

“Did you find anything yet?” he asked,

leaning over her to look at the book.

“No,” she lied, reaching behind her to

find him naked and ready to claim her

body as his. “That must have been some

dream,” she murmured huskily.

“I’ll show you,” he promised, in a low

growl, and pulled her from the chair to her

feet.

His hands were trembling as he

worked at removing her clothes. She

grinned at him impishly. “Let me do this,”

she murmured. “You’ve already damaged

one pair of my pants.”

“I’m sorry,” he growled, kissing her

roughly, backing her into the kitchen. Her

own fingers were trembling now as she

made short work of her clothes and stood

naked against him. He touched her

eagerly, leaving no sensitive spot on her

body untouched, unkissed. When he had

her breathless and needy, he lifted her

onto the kitchen counter.

“Here?” she gasped, surprised as the

cool counter touched her bottom.

“It started here in my dream,” he told

her, covering her mouth as he slowly took

possession of her body. He tore his mouth

away from hers and rested his forehead on

her shoulder so he could watch as he

possessed her body. “Then on the sofa, my

desk, the water closet, the front porch…”

She chuckled. “That was some

dream,” she whispered. She wished that

she had dreams like his.

Moments later, he was shuddering

against her. “Damn,” he cursed. “I guess I

won’t make that dream a reality after all.”

Maralee wrapped him in a tight

embrace. “Dreams aren’t meant to become

reality.”

“I always believed that our dreams

were the deepest reflections of our heart,”

he said.

She drew him closer with her arms

and legs.

“Maralee, I’d like to breathe now,” he

gasped.

“Sorry,” she murmured, slackening her

grasp marginally.

“Are you tired?” he asked. “You

didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“You kept me up half the night,” she

complained, hiding her happy smile by

pressing her face to his shoulder.

“Did you ever go back to sleep after

your nightmare?” he asked, caressing her

thick mane of black hair spilling over her

back and his hands.

“No,” she admitted, “but I’m all right.”

“Why don’t you take a little nap while

I start studying that book of yours?” he

suggested, a note of concern in his deep

voice.

“No!”

He drew away from her and looked

down at her with questioning eyes. She

avoided his gaze.

“I mean…I’d like go back to bed for a

while,” she said, “if you’ll join me. I was

left unsatisfied that time.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” he

murmured, “but I’m starting to see a

pattern here.” He tucked a finger beneath

her chin and lifted her face so he could

look at her. She expected him to question

her reasons for requesting his presence in

bed, but he seemed to want to give in to

her demand. When he claimed her mouth,

his kiss was as hot and passionate as ever.

He drew away from her, breathing

raggedly, his eyes glazed with passion. “I

swear, Maralee, you’re going to drive me

to an early grave.”

“Don’t say things like that,” she

whispered, her heart felt as if it were

being squeezed in a strong fist. “Please.”

“Don’t look so upset,” he urged gently,

touching her cheek. “I didn’t mean it

literally.”

She knew that, but it still bothered her.

“Take me to bed,” she urged, forcing a

playful smile.

His answering crooked grin made her

heart throb. “That’s the smile I’ve

missed.”

Her second smile was genuine.

“Oh, I’m definitely taking you to bed

now,” he growled, scooping her off the

counter.

“Nash!” she protested as he spun on

his heel with her in his arms and carried

her down the hall. She was laughing when

he laid her on the pallet, but her giggles

were soon replaced by sighs of pleasure.

He was gentle and slow for once, giving

her languid pleasure and taking none for

himself. She honestly didn’t mean to fall

asleep.

Nash decided that either Maralee was

utterly exhausted or he was losing his

touch. He hoped it was the former,

because at this point, he thought he’d die if

she rejected his loving. He stared down at

her in the dim light creeping through the

open door to make sure she was actually

asleep. He could only conclude that she

was when his explorative fingers didn’t

even pull a sigh from her slightly parted

lips.

“I guess we’ll finish this later,” he

murmured with a gentle smile.

He kissed her brow and climbed from

the pallet. Perhaps with her asleep, he’d

finally be able to find the presence of

mind to study that book. He had to make

good on the promises he’d made to his

pack or they’d be after his position as

alpha male again. After a quick trip

outside, he returned to the cabin, dressed,

lit a fire and then settled down at his desk

to examine the manuscript Maralee had so

thoughtfully procured for him. He was

placing all of his hopes for finding the

cure in this single volume. He prayed

silently it did not disappoint.

The first third of the manuscript, which

he read quickly without pondering, was

about the early relationship between the

sage and the chieftain of Wolf pack.

Apparently, the sage had held the Wolf in

high regard and this was the main reason

why he had fallen into so many perilous

traps. His attraction to the chieftain’s

sister, Jaida, had played an important role

in procuring the magician’s trust. He

admitted that he wanted to live out his life

amongst them, but it had been a fleeting

desire. Once the chieftain had determined

the sage’s immortality, things began to

change.

As Burl attempted to gain immortality

for himself and his people, the sage found

himself the object of study and torture.

The Wolves had attempted all sorts of

things to get him to reveal his sworn

secret. They had gone so far as to slice

him open and share amongst themselves

pieces of his liver, convinced that they

would gain his immortality by eating his

flesh. He had begged the Wolves to kill

him to stop the agonizing pain brought on

by their barbarous acts. He’d even told

them of his weakness to silver so they’d

be able to end his life.

Only Jaida had been any comfort to

him. Eventually, she rescued him from her

brother’s cruel hand and they had lived

together in hiding for a time and created a

son together. His lovely Wolf woman had

left him when her pregnancy had extended

past the normal Wolf gestation period of

nine weeks and was approaching nine

months. It was after the baby was born in

its human form that Burl came to retrieve

the sage from hiding.

Burl’s tactics changed. The sage had

no choice but cooperate. The Wolves

turned their cruel ways on members of

their own race, Jaida, and her newborn

baby. The sage’s eternal hatred and

everlasting wrath were gifted to the

Wolves in addition to immortality. The

manuscript was very vague on how the

immortality spell was cast, but when it

was

completed,

the

Wolves

were

immortal as were all their future

descendants.

Jaida had refused to leave the village

with the embittered sage, especially now

that she was immortal and the father of her

eldest son was not. She turned her back on

him, claiming that it was best for their son.

It was bad enough the child carried the

mark proving he was half-Wolf; the mark

of the crescent moon over his left eye.

This mark ensured that he would never be

truly accepted by his own pack.

Nash paused in his reading, thinking he

had misunderstood the sage’s words. The

mark didn’t stand for being a half-Wolf, it

indicated one who was not affected by the

curse and served as a pack Guardian.

Nash’s father had continually driven that

fact into his head as a child. He read on,

more slowly now as this part seemed to

pertain more to him than any other part of

the manuscript thus far.

Perhaps if I had left the Wolves’

village with anything other than

animosity, I would not have been so

inclined to want to punish them all,

for hurting me, for rejecting my son,

for turning Jaida against me, but as it

was, I formulated a curse. I wished

for other humans to see them as the

monsters they were, even if it was

but for one night of the lunar cycle. I

would not allow them to live peaceful

immortal lives after all that they had

done. The selfish beasts had taken

everything from me and I vowed to

pass

on

the

secret

to

their

destruction

to

my

human

descendants.

My human children and their

children and grandchildren would

hunt the Wolves as the animals they

were with weapons wrought in pure

silver. The only link, the only one

capable of ending this strife would be

my eldest son, the half-Wolf, the one

marked by the crescent moon. This

mark would later become the Wolves’

salvation rather than the focus of

their strife; for even if my son were

to fail, others born to the pack under

similar circumstances would also

bear the mark and have the same

unique half-Wolf powers. Perhaps if

my son, Jarl, who seems incapable of

accepting himself for what he is,

does not succeed, then a future half-

Wolf might break the curse.

“This can’t be right,” Nash murmured,

rereading the passage four times before he

closed the book angrily. “It can’t be right.