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* * * *

Richelle couldn’t believe her Guardian was so beautiful. Not handsome, but beautiful. When he first began to shift as they reached the wolves’ cave, she was startled. But she continued to watch in fascination as his body morphed from his wolf form into the fine specimen of masculinity she now gazed upon. Oh, she had seen handsome men before but none like Valya. It wasn’t merely the beauty of his finely chiseled features, his Roman nose, and square jaw. It was the beauty of his entire physique.

He was muscular and sinewy, like a man who had used his body well for both physical and pleasurable motivations. It was sleek and toned, not unlike the form of the wolf, with strong arms and legs. She could see him running wild through the forest as either man or beast with the same loping grace, his long chocolate hair whipping in the wind. She willed him to open his eyes, longing to see their color. Rich brown. She knew they would be the same rich color as his hair.

Her body ached in a way she had never known before. Having long since shed her torn dress, she should have been embarrassed sitting there in nothing more than her slip, but she didn’t. She felt surprisingly…natural, as if it were completely normal for her to be sitting half-naked with a man she remembered vaguely from her childhood and from her dreams. Her body tingled, crying for something more that she couldn’t explain.

She started a fire to warm the cave and then tended his wounds, instinctively knowing they would heal despite the damage that was done.

When she finished applying the dressing, she lay her hand upon his chest,

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letting it rest there as she felt his chest rhythmically rise and fall
.
She felt his body shudder. She could not resist as her hand slowly traced from his shoulder wound over his well-developed pectoral, hairless and smooth. Her hand continued trailing down to his abdomen, taut and rippled even with his body at rest.

Yes, there was no other way to describe him. He was beautiful.

He had a fever, and his body was covered with perspiration. This was not uncommon with his injuries, but she did what she could to make him comfortable. She wiped his brow and chest. Her touch was light as a feather but she moved swift and sure, using strips of her discarded dress to wipe away the sweat and blood. As she tossed the damp cloth aside, his hand came up and tenderly cupped her face. His body shivered and she was taken aback when he spoke one word.
Richelle
.

She stared at his perfect mouth as he uttered her name. Even in his stupor, his voice was hypnotic. It called to her, compelling her to move closer to him. When his hand fell away, she wrapped her arms around him.

She tried to warm his body with her heat. Falling into a deep slumber his breathing had slowed to almost a standstill. She touched her fingertips to his throat to check his pulse. Startled, she pulled her hand back as if she had touched a hot stove.

There was no pulse.
How can that be?

She stared into her rescuer’s face in its repose. Ruggedly smooth, it reminded her of the perfect complexion of a wax figure. She could not resist letting her fingertips trace over his features. She should have felt fear or repulsion. He was an enigma, a man who lay beneath her still as death, could take the form of a beast, who showed such compassion and came to her in her times of need, and yet killed swiftly with no mercy. But those were not the feelings she felt.

She felt a strange empathy with this man who seemed a kindred spirit.

Even as a child, it appeared that he sought her out and preferred her company to that of the other wolves.
But why has he hidden his true nature
from me all these years? Why did he never appear to me as the man he was?

She didn’t understand what had happened. All she knew was that with the Guardian, she felt safe.

Nestling her head in the crook of his uninjured shoulder, she gingerly placed her palm on his chest, careful not to disturb his wound. The large

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black alpha sauntered over to their makeshift bed and lay behind her, his fur acting as a blanket to keep her warm. The remaining wolves of the pack soon encompassed where they lay, using their body heat to keep her and her Guardian warm. With a sigh of peace, she closed her eyes and joined Valya in blessed sleep.

* * * *

It was near dusk when Valya slowly awakened from his healing sleep.

He tried to remember what had happened, where he was. He remembered encountering followers from the old Priest on the trail. He fought them off with the wolf pack to give Richelle time to get away. But one was able to stab him in the chest and shoulder several times before Valya was able to tear out his throat. When the battle was over, there were only two wolves left—the black alpha and his mate.

They told him that one of the strangers had gotten away and was going after Richelle. Valya did not need to hear any more. He took off down the trail, leaving the two wolves behind as he came upon Richelle being accosted by the follower. When he saw how he had touched his Richelle, Valya took great joy in killing him. It was one of the few times he wished there was time so that he could kill him slowly. Valya did not usually experience such emotions as he performed his duties as the Guardian, but his emotions were becoming stronger since he had found Richelle.

Richelle
.

Opening his eyes, he looked down to see Richelle sleeping in his arms.

He could not believe it was really her. He thought he was only dreaming last night. But here she was, with him. Her head rested upon his chest dangerously close to his flat nipple, so close that without moving she could open her mouth and let her pink tongue lave that nipple until he was crazed with want of her.

He leaned his head down and inhaled her sweet scent. It had been so long since he had touched her. And even then, she was a mere child, and he had been unable to do more than protect her and carry her to safety. But now she was a woman. Now he could come to her as a man, her mate. It took every ounce of control he had to not lean down and waken her with a kiss, his kiss. He was so hungry for her. He was hungry.

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It had been some time since last he fed. It would be so easy to take what he needed. As his mate, she would be there to fulfill all his needs, to sate his hunger, both sexual and for blood. And he would fulfill her every need. But she was so naïve. If he moved too quickly, she would fear him. Although, the realization that she had seen him shift from wolf to man and yet she still tended his wounds and lay snuggled against him through the night filled him with hope. Perhaps she would accept all he would teach her. He would have to be patient. There was so much for her to learn about his race, about her past…about him.

She sighed softly, but it was enough to have his cock stirring against his thigh. He craved her so badly that his body ached from want of her. He was naked, and yet, she lay serenely snuggled upon him with her arm draped around his waist, unaware of the fires that she stoked within him. How easy it would be for him to turn and take her, both body and blood to sate the hunger she had aroused in him and only she could fulfill. She sighed again, nestling her cheek against his chest as she brought her hand up and delicately placed it upon his chest, stroking it briefly before her hand settled over his now-aroused nipple.

His body tensed as he clenched his jaw. He felt his fangs descend in anticipation of the sweet richness of her life’s blood. Closing his eyes against the image of her supple form lying against his, he tried to still his clamoring body. But it was no use. He had waited so long. So damn long.

He couldn’t resist as he lowered his head to kiss her eyelid. It fluttered against the feather-light caress of his lips. He lowered farther still and kissed the tip of her nose, rubbing his lightly against hers.

When she tilted her head up at the gentle motion, he took her lips.

Gently. Tenderly. Warmly. Her lips parted on a soft moan, and he accepted her invitation as he deepened his kiss. Feeling her hand stroking up his body to rest on his shoulder, he let his fingertips trail lazily up her spine until he reached her nape. There, he threaded his fingers through her hair in an unbreakable grip as he began to greedily consume her lips and her mouth.

He was starved for her, and she tasted so damned delicious. She tasted of earth and fire, of night and desire.

He felt her body stir against his, but she did not pull away. Rather, she pressed closer toward him, her leg slowly rising and her knee brushing softly against his scrotum. He moaned into her mouth at the intimate yet

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innocuous gesture while he continued to feed his voracious appetite. His tongue explored the moist recesses of her mouth and tentatively touched her tongue. Stroking and coaxing, her tongue entwined with his, and she returned his kiss with the same ardor, the same passion.

Dazed, he opened his mind and was shaken to the core to find her mind reaching for his, willing and receptive. He felt the emotions pouring from her mind and her heart. There was no trace of deception or fear in her emotions. There were only feelings of acceptance and passion. His arm encircled her waist, pulling her body closer. The simple slip she wore was little barrier to his thickening cock pressing against her pelvis.

Shifting her body he felt her lush breasts squash against his chest. Her fingers timidly combed through his hair. She dragged the length through her fingers before she returned to rake her fingernails over his scalp, eliciting a low rumble from a primitive man reveling in his mate’s touch. He was desperately trying to control the inner urges of the beast that begged, that demanded, to claim its mate. That delusion of control evaporated with the morning mist as she moaned her compliance at his touch.

“Valya,” she sighed softly before licking and sucking his lower lip. She slipped her tongue into his mouth, to explore and taste him.

Crushing her body to his, the beast seized her mouth with a deep-timbered growl. She was his to protect, to taste, to take. The beast would not tolerate her resistance. She belonged to him. His instincts rose to the surface while she sucked and nipped at his lips, purely exploring the passion of his kiss.

Like aged brandy, she was potent and went to his head. It was a unique experience, having this slip of a girl/woman be both the spirit that made his soul sing and his heart dance and yet be the anchor that kept him grounded in this world. He couldn’t stop himself. Surging forward he captured her lush lower lip, nipping it with his fang and drawing a few drops of blood falling sweetly upon his tongue.

But, at the same time, it awoke Richelle from the slumberous and sensual dream, the night spell that he had her under. She pulled her head away. He gazed at her intently; her eyes were closed as his tongue skimmed his lip, licking up a single drop of her blood. She gasped at the sight. Valya opened his eyes to see her watching him with her expressive doe-eyes, eager yet nervous. He could sense her apprehension at the simple taste of the

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sweet nectar of her life’s blood he had taken. Yet it did nothing to alleviate his growing hunger for her or ease his throbbing cock.

“You bit me,” she squeaked as she raised her fingertips to stroke along her lip where he had nipped her.

Her voice was melodious. He realized it was the first time he had ever heard her speak as a woman. Before where she had an impish quality to her child’s pitch, now she had a huskier depth to her voice that struck him to the core. He was conflicted as he balanced his impulses to place her on a pedestal where he could worship and adore her, hide her away in a tower where she would be sheltered and safe, or flip her over on their makeshift bed and sate his base desires to feed and fuck. Sheltered and safe won out over feed and fuck.

“My apologies,
mio dusa
,” he crooned as he stroked her back, trying to ease her fears. “I could not help myself. I have waited so long for you that I momentarily lost my senses.”

Perplexed, she ran her tongue over her nipped lip, weighing his words while he watched in rapt fascination. She caught him staring at her, his eyes drinking her in, and that sent a tremble through her entire body.

“You’ve waited for me?” Her voice was filled with confusion and wonder at the thought that such a magnificent man would take leave of his senses over her. He chortled at her thoughts, her mind as open as the night sky to him.

“Yes,
mio dusa
. I have long awaited your return to me. At times, I thought I would go mad at your absence. But now you are in my arms, and I could not resist a taste of your sweetness.”

* * * *

Richelle blushed at his soft words spoken with such reverence. Her body flushed as she felt his body harden against her, his cock cuddling intimately between them. She lowered her eyes for a moment, searching for a modicum of secrecy, to conceal the confused emotions he created within her. When she raised her eyes, she saw him gazing at her intensely, as if he could peer into her soul.

She knew he could see into her mind. She had felt his mind merging with hers, wrapping his thoughts around hers, offering her comfort, as if he

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could protect her from the confusion and noise…and then it struck her like a bolt from the blue. There was no noise, only silence. Usually, her mind was filled with garbled thoughts from those around her, unable to shut out the chaos and keep out the voices. Even in the solace of the mountains, there was still some amount of white noise that echoed in her mind.

But being near Valya, there was nothing but silence. It was as if there was a wall built around her mind to shield her from the disorder and commotion of the outside world. It was a peace she was unaccustomed to and thought she would never have. She couldn’t remember a time when she was without her so-called gift. It was not merely a part of her, but what had defined her over the years. She had no control over it. The inability to control her
gift
had made it impossible for her to have any type of normal relationship, with anyone.

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