Wolf's Fall (20 page)

“What would you do, sweetheart?” he questioned softly, taking her hand.

After a pause, Calla took a deep breath, looked him in the eye, and said, “I wouldn't rest until I found the hunters who kidnapped and starved my mate to death. I would follow every lead to the ends of the earth until I skewered the bastards and roasted them on a spit.” She looked down at their joined hands.

“Why didn't you?” Nick searched her face and hated the pain he saw reflected there.

“Because I was numb. I couldn't even breathe, much less mount a manhunt. I relied on my brother to exact justice, and he did.”

“There's no shame in that, baby.”

“I know. But you asked.” Her lips curved into a smile and the shadows left. “You know what I would
never
change? Meeting you.”

They finished their meal, chatting companionably. When they were done, he wiped his lips with a napkin and said, “We'll leave the dishes. I've got someone coming to clean up and return the dishes to the restaurant tomorrow.”

“Thank you,” she said. “This was wonderful.”

“Oh, the evening isn't over yet.” Her smile was worth all the effort of preparation. “Want me to start a fire? It'll get a bit cool tonight.”

“Sounds lovely.”

Pushing from the table, he took care of that without any trouble. In minutes, a fire was blazing cheerfully in the hearth. Calla had taken a place on the sofa, and kicked off her high-heeled shoes. Settling next to her, Nick took off his jacket and ditched his shoes as well. Then he tucked her into his side and they simply sat for a while, holding each other and enjoying the closeness.

Reaching up, he stroked her dark tresses, running his hand down the length of it. She felt so warm against him, so right. His blood quickened. She shifted a bit so she could look at him, and started to say something. He beat her to it.

“I need you so much,” he rasped.

“You have me.”

The desire on her beautiful face matched the fire inside him. He brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her slowly at first. Then more hungrily, sending the flames between them leaping. He kissed her deeply, savoring her, as she entwined her fingers in his hair.

Calla sucked in a sharp breath as his attentions traveled downward to the curve of her neck. He liked her reaction. All afternoon he'd been waiting for this. Any lingering fear about allowing her to sink those sharp little fangs into his throat was gone. This was Calla, and she'd never hurt him.

There was no point in denying it any longer—he belonged to her, body and soul. He was ready
to be claimed. Her hand snaked upward. Before he realized what she'd done, his shirt was halfway unbuttoned and she was gently caressing his chest. It wasn't enough.

“Take my shirt off.”

She didn't need any further encouragement. She helped him tug off the offending garment and sent it flying across the coffee table with a smug smile. His heart hammered as she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his neck, downward to the hollow of his throat, then lower still, across his chest. When her tongue flicked seductively across his nipple, he groaned and felt himself harden.

“Calla, yes.”

Emboldened, she explored the scars from various battles that decorated his torso and stomach. There weren't many, due to his shifter healing, but she spread butterfly kisses across each one, as if by doing so she could erase the pain they'd caused him.

“Hang on a second.” Spying drapes that would cover the large glass windows, he got up and closed them gladly. He didn't really want to move from their spot, and now they could have privacy.

When he rejoined her, his hand came around to the back of her dress and deftly unzipped it. He watched, spellbound, as she stood and let it fall in a heap at her feet. The undergarments she wore were nothing more than tiny, filmy black scraps. The curve of her breasts swelled generously over the top of her bra. His eyes traveled the length of
her, taking in her trim waist. Her long legs, which were well toned and shapely.

Calla knelt before him. He cupped her breasts, brushing his thumbs across the silky material until the hardened peaks tightened. Then his fingers found the clasp nestled in the center, and he freed her. She looked at him with naked desire, so powerful it nearly made him lose control right then.

“Tell me you'll claim me,” he said hoarsely. “Because I want this, baby. For real.”

She looked deep into his eyes. “Only if you mean it. If you're really ready.”

“I am.”

Reverently, he caressed her face. The dancing firelight illuminated her skin and caught her hair in a cascade of fiery highlights. She must've been part Sorcerer, because she'd cast a spell on him.

“God, you're beautiful.”

She took his hand and drew him down to the rug in front of the fire. He straddled her with his knees on either side of her hips, looking down at her. Chestnut hair fanned out from her sides, around her shoulders. Her skin was the color of cream. As she captured him with her entrancing green eyes, he knew he wouldn't rush this. Calla deserved so much more than him, but he was hers and he wouldn't let her down again.

Nick bent over her and took a rosy-tipped breast in his mouth. She gasped in pleasure as his tongue swirled lazy circles around it and his teeth
grazed it gently. He splayed a hand across her stomach, then continued downward to the silky material of her panties. He sat up, sliding them slowly over her legs. For a moment, he could only stare. She was every inch his princess.

His mate gave him a wicked grin, pulling at his belt. “It's your turn. It's only fair, you know.”

He laughed and stood, shedding the rest of his clothes, then hesitated. This was it. He would be fully, completely bonded to a woman he loved for the first time since that hot summer night that nearly destroyed him. Awful memories crowded in, threatening to overtake him. But he wouldn't let them. Not tonight.

“What's wrong?” Her voice sounded from behind him, tinged with concern.

“Nothing, baby. For the first time in years, everything is right.”

“Then stop torturing me with your gorgeous naked self and come here,” she teased.

Nick turned to face her then, his smile gone and his entire being humming with raw, sexual energy, and another emotion begging to be voiced. He moved to her side and knelt, taking her face in his hands, his expression sober.

“I'm a mess and I don't have a clue why you want the trouble that comes with me and my life with the Pack. But I'm yours, if you'll have me. Yours completely.” He held his breath as if his life depended upon her answer.

“From the second we met, I knew you were perfect for me in every way,” she whispered, reaching up to slide her palm down his chest. “Nothing else matters but us, my mate.”

Nick crushed his lips to hers, plundering her sweetness, tasting. He rolled her taut nipples between his fingers, marveling at how they seemed to be made for his touch. She arched her back in delight as his hands and mouth explored her everywhere, scorching a hot path to her breasts and down the plane of her soft belly. When he slowly, deliberately parted her knees and found the warm center of sex, he relished driving her crazy. He brought her to the edge of the precipice with his mouth, again and again, nearly sending them both over.

Finally, she could stand it no longer and pulled frantically at his hair. “Make love to me. Now.”

“That's what I'm doing, baby.”

He moved over her, covering her body with his own. Grasping her wrists, he placed her hands on either side of her head, palms up, then linked his fingers with hers. As he looked down, the complete trust and utter sensuality on her face was his undoing. Something fierce and primal rose up inside him, a feeling he'd never known before. His. Calla was his, and he'd never let anyone hurt her again.

He thrust inside her, burying himself deep, his eyes never leaving hers. She moaned as he moved
with agonizingly languid strokes. Writhing beneath him with wild abandon, she set his body on fire. Gradually increasing the speed of his thrusts, he brought them to a perfect rhythm, her hips rising to meet his. When she wrapped her legs around him, he let go of her hands and cradled her, crushing her against his chest, driving deeper still. He was certain he would never feel closer to anyone than he felt right now.

“Do it,” he groaned, cupping the back of her head. “Claim me.”

He tilted his head to the side, heart about to pound out of his chest. She struck quickly—and his world detonated.

The pleasure was like nothing he'd ever known, but it was more than a physical sensation. With her fangs buried deep in his throat, marking him as hers for all time, the ecstasy was almost too great to be endured. It was as though every cell in his body had been blasted like a supernova, turned inside out and made joyful and whole again.

They rode the pulsating, crashing waves together to a feverish pitch, until neither could stop the tide. They tumbled over the precipice of their release together, clinging tight to each other. With one last thrust, his passion exploded into a million tiny shards. Holding her close, he shuddered as he spilled his seed deep within her.

He was alive. At last.

His Bondmate clung to him, riding the last wave before floating softly to earth.

“Oh, my gods,” she moaned, burying her face in his neck.

“Are you okay?” he asked in alarm.

“What?” she said, blinking at him owlishly.

“Did I hurt you?” Anxiety flipped his guts into a pretzel.

“No! Not a chance.” She gave him the sweetest smile. “That was simply wonderful.”

Not realizing he was holding his breath, he let it out in a rush. “For me, too, baby. That was incredible.”

“How do you feel?” she asked, smoothing back his hair to peer into his face.

“I'm good. No, fantastic.” Rolling onto his back, he pulled Calla with him, his arms steel bands around her.
Can you still hear me?
he pushed into her head.

Yes,
she thought back, then giggled.

“I heard you,” he said.

“It works!”

“That it does.” He couldn't be happier, or prouder, of his mate.

She sighed in contentment, settling her head onto his shoulder.

They stayed entwined for a long while, basking in the glow of their lovemaking, reveling in their mating. They touched constantly, spoke in low tones, reliving the moment she'd claimed him.
It was beautiful to him, and he made sure she knew it.

“Calla?”

“Hmm?” She lifted her head to peer into his face. Maybe she sensed what he was going to say before the words left his mouth.

“I love you.”

Her eyes misted with tears as she smiled and stroked his hair. “I love you, too. So much.”

The entire night was more than he'd ever dared to dream. He'd hold on to this feeling with both hands, as long as he could.

Until the day he stopped breathing.

*   *   *

Holding Nick's hand, Calla walked with him toward the dining room. She couldn't be prouder to be at her mate's side.

Word had spread like wildfire this morning that their bonding was complete, and official. All it took was for one vampire to spot the mark she'd left on his neck, and the news spread almost as fast as if she'd posted it on the Internet. Gossipy vampires. For once, she didn't mind.

Now it was lunchtime, and as they walked in, conversation ground to a halt. Then the clapping started and her wolf commander grinned sheepishly at his new extended family before following her to Tarron's table. Her brother was sitting with Ian and Teague, and the two were in deep discussion as she and Nick sat down.

“I'm searching as fast as I can,” Teague was saying to Tarron. “I'll find that account and what Graham sent. I just need a little more time.”

“That's a luxury we don't have at the moment,” Tarron snapped. “Don't give me excuses. Just do your fucking job.”

Teague flinched, mouth pressing tightly closed in anger and embarrassment. Calla's brows rose. She wouldn't dare correct her brother in front of their coven, but she could make her irritation patently clear without words. When he met her gaze, she made sure her expression was as glacial as possible. He blinked at her, and then looked down at his plate of fish and chips as though it held the answers.

When he raised his head, he met Teague's gaze straight on and apologized. “I'm sorry. The tension is getting to all of us, trying to figure out what they have planned, and I took it out on you. Forgive me.”

The tech's expression eased. “No problem, man. It's all good.”

Calla couldn't help but grin. Only Tarron's inner circle of good and trusted friends could get away with addressing him so informally, or not even think of refusing his apology. Lunch proceeded without further unpleasantness.

Until Nick's cell phone rang. “Sorry about that,” he said, pulling it out. “I know it's not polite to answer your phone at the table, but with everything that's been going on . . .”

Tarron was in the same boat, so everyone understood. Calla heard Nick greet Selene, clearly happy to hear from his daughter, and she relaxed. The feeling vanished, however, when he paled and pushed back from the table.

“What?” he barked, his fork clattering to his plate. “How bad is he?”

She and Tarron exchanged a look of alarm as Nick paused. Leaning in, she touched her mate's arm, lending silent support as they listened.

Nick stood, expression filled with rage. “I'll be there as quickly as I can. Hang on, honey. I'm coming.”

As soon as he ended the call, she stood as well and took his hand. “Who's hurt, my love? Is it Zander?”

“No, it's my brother.” His jaw worked as the tortured emotions flooded his face. “Damien's car was ambushed by more than a dozen hunters and rogue vampires, and three of his men were killed.”