Blood Vow (Blood Moon Rising) (24 page)

“You are a fool, Sasha. We need a united nation. Your selfish heart will tear down everything we have fought for.”

“Watch your back, bitch,” he sneered.

Falon cocked a brow, and said, “Indeed, watch yours, sir.” She turned and stopped abruptly when she saw Lucien and Rafe standing forty feet downwind of her. Their eyes blazed in fury. Not at her but past her to Sasha and his pack. Falon glanced over her shoulder and saw a hint of fear flicker in the old alpha’s eyes. But not enough to show respect. It would be his last mistake.

Falon turned and when she caught her men’s gazes, she smiled and hurried her step toward them as they hurried their steps toward her.

Twenty-three

“I’D ASK IF you were okay,” Lucien said, “but all I have to do is look at Sasha to know you’ve set him straight.”

“He’s understandably upset.”

She reached for his hand, entwining her fingers through his. When she looked up at him with those big blue eyes so full of love and trust, Lucien wanted to drop to his knee and beg for forgiveness. He had been a prick when she was with Rafe. And he hadn’t made it easy for her in many ways since then.

“I’m sorry, angel face,” he said softly.

She slowly smiled, not taking her eyes from his. “For what?”

“For all the times I hurt you. For all the times I doubted you. For all the times I was a colossal ass.”

Her smile widened, and she laughed. “No need to apologize, Luca. I fell in love with that colossal ass.” She grinned, and scorched him with a lustful look. “And the other colossal thing.”

His brows shot straight into his hairline but he grinned.

That colossal thing had wanted to say good morning in a very special way before he rolled out of bed at dawn. Falon was something to behold in the low glow of the fire. Long, soft, creamy limbs, sprawled out all fuck happy on the pelts. She had a sweet ass and the dimples just above it begged to be kissed. He’d told himself that all he had to do was kiss her there, and she’d roll over and—sweet Jesus he was hard. “I love fucking you,” Lucien said.

“I’d say get a room,” Rafe curtly broke in, “but we have to address the council.”

Falon pouted.

“I want to suck on that lip so bad,” Lucien said.

Falon giggled, and squeezed his hand. “You two left me in bed. Alone.”

Rafe cocked a brow. “You were snoring like a sailor. You needed the sleep.”

“I don’t snore!”

Lucien laughed, and said, “You kind of do, but it’s cute.”

“I do not snore!”

“I’ll record it next time,” Rafe said, trying hard to remain the serious one.

And Lucien let him be the serious one. It suited Rafael. It was who he was, how he operated. One thing Lucien had always taken for granted about Rafa was his level head. He trusted his brother explicitly to do the right thing. And though Lucien had a healthy ego it wasn’t the kind that would argue a good idea just because it wasn’t his. Rafe possessed every quality an alpha needed. He understood that to lead he did not have to terrorize. He was intelligent, he was a master tactician and ruthless when necessary.

From the day they were born their father had groomed Rafe as the heir apparent. Lucien was groomed to second him in every way and step up if Rafe fell. While Rafe measured every move he made with methodical precision, Lucien was more impulsive. Both methods worked, some better at times, but they worked.

They were both worthy of leading a pack in their own right.

Lucien’s chest hurt a little bit when he thought how his hatred and jealousy had consumed his every waking moment as well as his dreams. So much wasted time. He had to have known that the Rafe he knew would never have slain his chosen one because he wanted full alpha rights. That wasn’t Rafael’s style. Lucien squeezed Falon’s hand. She’d seen right through him and called him out. It was what he needed, and he would forever be in Falon’s debt for reuniting him with his brother.

“When will Vulkasin and Mondragon arrive?” Falon asked.

“With all that had to be managed, they’re getting a later start, but I expect both packs will be here this time tomorrow,” Rafe answered.

“Do they know—about us?” she hesitantly asked.

“Joachim and Anton have been apprised of the situation,” Rafe said in a clipped, formal voice.

Falon grabbed his hand and pulled back to slow his forceful stride. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

He stopped and looked at her. Lucien understood his frustration. By the Blood Law she belonged to Rafe. Lucien had absolutely no claim on her whatsoever, yet he loved her. And Falon loved him enough to ask Rafe to share her.

“I am the eldest. I marked you first. You exchanged the mark. You are mine, Falon. In every Lycan’s eye you belong to me.” He looked from Falon to Lucien who wanted to remain objective but it was hard when Rafe could simply refuse to continue this setup. And they would have a serious problem.

Rafe exhaled slowly, then looked back at Falon. Her cheeks had pinkened—from anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure. “Vulkasin opened their hearts to you and you embraced them as they embraced you.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “They never accepted losing you. They never accepted Anja. In their hearts you were their only alpha. As for them being separated so long from Mondragon—it’s going to take some time for the packs to reunite and reestablish trust.”

“Like Vulkasin, angel face, Mondragon threw their arms around you, embracing you as theirs. You carry my child. Seeing you with Rafe is going to be hard. And—” He inhaled deeply, and held his breath.

“And what?” she asked.

He expelled the air in his lungs and answered, “Rafe and I have a reputation, a persona if you will, and I’m afraid it’s being severely compromised by our arrangement.”

Her eyes widened. But why was she surprised? “They think you’re both pussy-whipped, don’t they?”

Lucien nodded with his brother. It didn’t bother him, not in terms of his ego, but what bothered him was the chance that he could lose the respect or confidence of even one Lycan. He and Rafe were the alphas that would lead the battle and the nation would look to them for direction.

“But that’s not true. This is about more than sex. Even though that is amazing,” Falon said.

“We know that. For them to know it, it’s imperative we stand united at all times on all fronts no matter how difficult it may be at times,” Rafe said.

“Of course we will,” Falon agreed.

“The council is flexing their muscles right now by summoning us before I got to them first, and I’m not sure what to expect from them on a few matters but I ask you to trust me to handle it,” he said to Falon.

“Of course,” she said.

“No emotional outbursts,” Lucien warned.

“Seriously?” she asked indignantly.

“Very,” Rafe said.

“I’ll have you know I can control myself quite well when I have to.”

“Make sure you do. If things go south in there, the last thing I want is you going ballistic on the council,” Rafe said.

Falon shook her head, and looked away from him. Lucien grinned. He knew her as well as Rafe did, and if she thought for one minute that either one of them was in jeopardy she would come unglued.

“I don’t think it would be a bad thing to showcase the power of the three of us if the opportunity presents itself,” Lucien said.

“Agreed,” Rafe said.

Falon nodded as they continued down the two-mile road that cut the camp in half. The council’s large round lodge sat in the middle of the growing community.

Pulling the wide flaps back, Rafe stepped through, and held out his hand to Falon, who took it. Still holding hands with Lucien, they walked united and proud into the large dome-shaped center past the hundreds of gathered Lycan to the wide dais where the elders awaited them. Voices tittered and smirked as they walked past. Some of the gathered Lycan were there genuinely concerned about the effect the threesome would have on the nation, especially so close to the rising. It was an honest concern, one Lucien would have if he was on the outside looking in, and so he didn’t begrudge any Lycan their genuine worry. He didn’t even begrudge the ones that were there to get a look at Falon and decide for themselves if she was worthy of two great alphas. Their opinion didn’t matter to Lucien.

Regardless of why any of them were there, Lucien would do what he had to do: answer any question posed positively and honestly to show the nation that this was a good thing, not a detriment. And if they still had a problem with it? It was their problem.

Despite his fortitude, tension gurgled in his stomach much like it did the day over a month ago when he last stood before the council. But that day he had been torn up inside. He hadn’t wanted to slay Falon if she was given to him to do so. He couldn’t have known, even in his wildest dreams that he was going to be gifted with her and, more important, that she would become devoted to him.

He squeezed her hand.
You’re amazing, angel face. Don’t let them pick on you.

If they pick on either one of you, I’m going to kick some Amorak ass.

I would expect nothing less of you, Falon,
Rafe chuckled.

* * *

WITH FALON BETWEEN them, Rafe to her right and Lucien to her left, they stood united before the council and the pack leaders who had assembled. Sharia’s old eyes sparkled with mischief. Rafe wondered at her motives. When he’d thought she was on his side, she had turned on him. She spoke in riddles, never answering a pointed question.

“It has come to the council’s attention that the decision regarding the Blood Law’s eye for an eye was made without all of the facts presented.” Sharia’s ancient voice crackled above the din of the structure.

Rafe nodded, and chose his words carefully. “It had always been my contention that I slew a Slayer on the day in question. However, now that the facts have come to light, I realize I did not kill a Slayer that day.”

Gasps and titters rushed through the dome. “You did not kill a Slayer, or the Slayer you thought you killed survived?” she asked.

“The latter,” Rafe said.

“Based on that fact alone, the council hereby rescinds the order to give Lucien Mondragon your chosen one to accept as his own,” Maleek, a senior council elder, said. The elder looked pointedly at Lucien. “You no longer have rights to Falon Vulkasin. Do you accept the council’s decision, Lucien Mondragon?”

“I do,” Lucien firmly answered.

Rafe held his breath, waiting for the other shoe to fall.

“Lucien Mondragon, is it true that the one you chose to mark, a woman by the name of Mara, was in fact a Slayer?”

“Yes,” Lucien said, unwavering.

Shocked gasps tittered among the gathered.

“You understand the penalty for lying with a Slayer is death?” Maleek said with a little too much triumph in his tone.

Rafael scowled, wondering at the elder’s intent.

“I do,” Lucien clearly acknowledged.

Sharia raised her shaking hand, halting Maleek from continuing. She stood with assistance. “Lucien, did you know when you laid with her, she was Slayer?”

“No. Had I, I would have slain her on the spot. She used black magic to change her appearance and hide her stench. Her true identity was not revealed to me until several weeks ago when she showed herself to me in her true Slayer form.”

“What did you do?”

“What I should have done sixteen years ago—I killed her. She died a truth death.”

“That does not negate the penalty!” a voice shouted from the crowd.

Rafe swore, Lucien growled, and Falon hissed. It was Sasha Ivanov, and he was loaded for bear.
Stay cool,
Rafe said levelly
. Let him speak his piece. Let them all speak, then I will speak.

I want to tear him apart,
Falon seethed.

Steady, angel face, we don’t need you getting into trouble.

The three of us are walking out of here together!
she said.

Sasha strode angrily up the aisle past them stopping at the base of the dais. “Lucien Mondragon laid with a Slayer! He was going to mark her as his chosen one! She would have bred her Slayers into the packs and destroyed us from the inside out!”

“That is not being debated, Sasha,” Sharia said firmly. “Is there any new information you have to share?”

“His life is the punishment!” he cried, turning and pointing to Lucien who stood rigid before his accuser.

“Lucien,” Sharia said, her voice noticeably warmer. “Do you have anything to say in your defense?”

“You expect me to debate the truth?” he asked in surprise.

“No, of course not,” the ancient said, suddenly sounding frail.

Maleek stood and looked at Sharia, then at Lucien. “Then it is the council’s decision that you die the true death before sunset today.”

“No!” Falon shrieked, breaking her connection with Rafe and Lucien.

Falon!
Rafe warned.

“He will not die!” She shoved her hands harshly at Sasha, sending him flying into the dais, shattering the front steps to kindling. “Not today! Not tomorrow!” she shrieked, shoving her hands above the heads of the council, tearing a huge hole through the pelts comprising the large back wall of the dome. “Or any day because
you
said so!”

“Falon!” Rafe shouted. “Stop now!” he commanded her.

Tears tracked down her cheeks. He resisted the urge to take her in his arms and soothe her fears away. “Don’t let them hurt him,” she cried.

“No one is touching him,” he assured her.

“Are you king of the nation now, Vulkasin?” Sasha sneered, dragging himself up from the dais.

“It has been expected for years despite the blood feud between me and my brother that together we would lead the nation against the Slayers on the night of the rising. I cannot do that with Lucien dead.” His voice lowered dangerously. “The power of the three has been foretold.” He reached a hand to Falon, drawing her to his side, and she turned to Lucien who took her other hand and stood to her left. “
We
are the power of the three. As such we have united in heart, body, and soul. We will lead the nation against Thomas Corbet and Fenrir. If one part of the whole is missing, we all die.”