Wolves’ Bane (12 page)

Chapter Eighteen

Lines in the Sand

“Just give up, Morgan. It’ll be better this way. Once King Lazarus has claimed you, it will all make sense.”

“Let her go.” Rage consumed Cal, his blade sliding deep, slicing open the putrid flesh straight through to the half-beast’s kidney.

The creature cried out as he dropped Morgan, releasing her body so suddenly that she crumbled onto her hands and knees.

She gasped for air, then fell to her side, just as the beast spun, taking the dagger with him as he swiped his gnarled clawed fist toward Cal’s face. Cal backhanded it out of the way, then barreled into the beast’s side, forcing him to meet the blades of the other Hunters, taking the beast away from Morgan.

Lance caught him with his sword. One quick blow and the beast’s head parted from its body, both hitting the ground seconds later.

Cal rushed to Morgan, his hands searching her, assessing her injuries, relieved when he heard her drawing in small but steady breaths.

“Is she okay?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Cal grunted as he picked her up, cradling her gently against his chest.

“I’ll get the healer,” Phenton said as he raced off ahead.

“There’s no mortal wound. I’d be able to feel that.” Cal started toward the house, thankful when she moved a hand to rest against his chest.

“Thank the fucking gods for that, Cal,” Lance said as he kept pace with him, leaving the others to tend to the monster’s body. “He crossed the boundary. He could have taken her.”

Cal blew out a breath and shook his head, his thoughts troubled, his heart still pounding with adrenaline. “Trust me, I know, and it’s not gonna happen again.”

Cal watched over Morgan while the healer—one of the old scholars—checked her body for wounds. She had fallen unconscious shortly after he’d lifted her from the ground and hadn’t yet woken up.

“No major wounds, nothing fatal.” The healer’s wrinkled hand fluttered over the ugly bruises that darkened Morgan’s neck and jaw. “He had a good hold of her here, could have done a lot of damage. Must have punched her pretty hard as well.” He closed his eyes as he laid his hands on Morgan’s forehead.

Cal’s heart was still beating like it was trying to pump right out of his chest. It had been a close call. Too close. Seeing Morgan in that beast’s clutches and feeling the momentary sense of loss—feeling like he might be too late—nearly crippled him on the spot. It was enough of a warning to convince Cal that the time for waiting had come to an end. They needed to bond. Morgan needed his strength, his power.

“How is she?” Andrew asked from the door.

Cal ran his hand down his face, then along the scuff on his jaw as he shot a frustrated look over his shoulder. “Okay, I think. Just a little bruised.”

The healer sighed as he pushed himself up from the bed. “She’s sleeping peacefully now. I’ve removed the pain and started the healing process. The bruises shouldn’t last more than a day or two. Her ribs will be tender as well, nothing broken, but she will feel some discomfort when she wakes up. I’ve done my best to minimize it though.” As he passed Cal, he laid a hand on his shoulder and met his eyes with a hard stare. “You must bond with her, young man. I can’t understand why you’ve waited. She could have been killed. Or worse.”

Cal didn’t argue. The old healer was right. There was nothing more to say.

“Thank you, we appreciate your help,” Andrew said as he escorted the old man out.

Cal moved over to the bed and stared down at her. She did look peaceful. Her breathing was deep, her eyelids fluttered in sleep. With the exception of the darkening finger marks along the column of her throat and the nasty bruise along the edge of her jaw, she looked the same as she had the first night he had crawled into bed with her. She was fine, she was safe and he needed to take care of some things before she woke up.

He ran his finger along her cheek. That was a close one. He’d almost lost her before he even had a chance to have her. No more mistakes. No more delays.

He left their room, shutting the door quietly behind him, and started toward the back staircase at the other end of the hall.

“Cal, where are you going?” Andrew was on his way back from the main staircase.

He shot an angry look over his shoulder. “She wasn’t safe, Andrew. On our own property, she wasn’t safe. I need to reinforce the boundary markers. I need to add another symbol that will prevent bitten humans from coming in.”

Andrew caught up and put a hand on Cal’s shoulder to stop him. “That seems like a good plan.” He cleared his throat. “But you also need to bond with her. Make her strong.”

Cal waved Andrew’s words away, his anger mounting once again. “Don’t you think I know that? For Christ’s sake, Andrew, it was Morgan out there,
my
Huntress. Don’t you realize how responsible I feel?”

Andrew’s gaze softened. “Sorry, you’re right.”

Cal started down the stairs. “I’m going to tell her what she needs to know—what she needs to hear—and then I’m going to bond with her.”

“It’s for the best, man.”

Cal nodded without looking back.
She might hate me for it afterward. No, she
will
hate me for it, but it needs to be done
. He could make promises to himself that sex wouldn’t happen, but that would be a lie. There was no way, with the desire he had for her, that he’d be able to hold himself back, especially if the bonding process was as intense as everyone claimed.

When Cal made it outside, he scanned the perimeter. It was mid-afternoon, the sun was just starting to descend. The forest lay quiet. Ken and James had already removed Jimmy’s body, taken it to the underground laboratories to make sure it didn’t rise again. Which wasn’t a concern, really, but why take the chance? Jimmy hadn’t yet become a fully turned werewolf, which must have been why he was able to get through the perimeter’s security magic.

Cal walked toward the spot where he had found Morgan. Something glinted in the sun, hidden in the grass. He bent down and retrieved her cell phone.

So this was how he’d gotten her outside.

He dropped it to the ground then crushed it under his boot, feeling a satisfying pop as it imploded on itself.
She’s gonna be pissed at me for that too,
Cal thought grimly, as he bent down to retrieve the remains, shoving them into his pocket once he’d collected every piece.
Just tally up the reasons to hate me. As long as she’s safe and alive, that’s all that matters
.

Cal scanned the first set of markers that lined the property. It would take him the rest of the day to recast and etch symbols of protection on each, but it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, or do anything else until it was done. With a sigh, he moved to the first wooden beam. There were fifty in all, each about five miles apart, circling a defined border to the property. There were other Hunters who could help him, others with similar powers but he wouldn’t be satisfied unless he etched them all himself. He needed to know that they were cast properly.

He ran his hand over the beam and detected his own marking there already. The magic was strong, unfading, and yet that bastard had still managed to get past. It was a loophole that had never occurred to Cal. What bothered him more than anything was that if Jimmy knew the weakness, then so did Lazarus. There would be nothing stopping him from making an army of new werewolves, all crazed with the beginning of the transformation and all seeking the king’s praise for their loyalty.

With his finger, Cal traced the spell that was already there, a simple protection to ward off werewolves.
Not good enough.
On top of that, he layered another more powerful symbol, one that would ward off man or beast. No good could come from a human stumbling on their property either. He didn’t know why he hadn’t done it before.

I guess I had no reason to, before now.

He closed his eyes and let the spell flood through him. The magic of the earth rushed up his legs, electrifying him, surging through his body and out of his finger as he etched the marking one, two, three times over, increasing its strength with each pass. It was overkill to be sure, but he wasn’t willing to take any chances.

Not with Morgan’s life on the line.

Chapter Nineteen

Bonded

I opened my eyes and groaned. Every muscle was tight and aching, but while I was sore all over, there wasn’t any really horrible pain. I reached up to touch my neck and winced. Yep, that one hurt, but even my neck wasn’t as bad as I would have expected. I ran my hand along my ribs. Tender, yes, but not excruciating. I sucked in a deep breath, allowing my lungs to fill completely before blowing all of the air out. No pain, nothing broken.

I sighed as I rolled over, happy to find myself nestled in my own bed and surprised to see that the room was dark, except for the shimmering glow of the moonlight, which cast rays of soft light over everything in my sight. I’d slept the rest of the day away and didn’t remember much beyond Cal’s comforting arms holding me.

The bathroom door opened and bathed the room in bright unnatural light, blinding me momentarily. I sucked in a breath as my vision adjusted. Cal stood in the doorway, his perfectly chiseled body draped in a small towel wrapped around his waist. A sheen of moisture covered him, and steam rolled out of the bathroom, billowing around him like he was a god.

“You’re awake.” His voice was gruff, a low grumble that washed over me and set my heart thumping.

I nodded, licking my lips as I pushed myself up onto my elbow.

“How do you feel?”

I watched him move, feasting on his honed physique as it flexed under his flawless skin. His arms and chest were so defined, so cut, firm and solid, flowing into more muscle that lined his abdomen, a six-pack straight out of a muscle magazine. My gaze trailed farther down, along the sharp cut of his hip where the towel covered him. I was wet with want. I licked my lips again as I scanned his body back up to meet his eyes.

He was looking at me with one eyebrow cocked and a wry smirk on his face. The heat of a blush washed over me and I cleared my throat. “Oh, um, I feel okay. A little tender but otherwise fine.”

He moved over to the bed and sat with his back to me, his shoulders hunched. It took everything in my power not to reach over and trace my finger along his spine, trailing the contours of his muscles, or maybe even run my tongue over all that gorgeous wet skin.

“I’m sorry, Morgan.” His voice was hushed, so low I almost didn’t hear him.

“Sorry?”

Cal turned to look at me, shifting his body so that one knee rested on the bed, pulling his towel to an almost impossible angle. My eyes were riveted to that towel, wondering what would happen if he shifted again.

Cal cleared his throat and I jerked my gaze back to meet his. He gave me a lopsided grin, but didn’t tease my ogling stare. “I’ve reinforced the boundaries,” he said. “Nothing will get past the border now.”

I sighed, my desire doused with that dose of reality. I pushed myself up, my knees pulled in under my chin. “How did he get in? I thought you said that werewolves wouldn’t be able to breach the boundaries.”

“He wasn’t a full werewolf, not completely turned. It was a loophole in the protection spell, one that Lazarus must have known about.” He shook his head, his hand curling into a tight fist. “It won’t happen again.”

I nodded. “And I guess I’ll be caged so that I don’t get hurt.”

Cal shifted on the bed again, moving closer to me, placing his hand on my knee, a small gesture that sent shivers of excitement through my body. It was amazing what such a little touch did to me. I locked eyes with him.

“Morgan.” He hooked his hand underneath my calves and pulled my legs down, then shifted, bracing himself on his elbow as he moved to lie at my side, his face hovering inches away from mine. “Morgan,” he whispered again.

My name on his lips sent tendrils of desire pulsing through me again, and his hand running up my thigh had me vibrating with excitement. He brushed my mouth with his, his tongue snaking out to tentatively touch my bottom lip before he pulled away to stare at me.

“Morgan.”

It wasn’t a question, and yet I felt like he was asking me—wanting an answer to the unspoken request that had hung over us for days.

“I can’t risk losing you like that again.” His words were a soft rumble that rolled over me, sinking into my head, into my flesh. “When I saw him holding you, when I thought he was going to kill you, I almost died right there. I can’t leave you vulnerable like this.” He leaned forward and captured my lips with his, sucking, kissing me so deeply it took my breath away. When he pulled back, his eyes were hooded with desire. “I want you, Morgan. You do things to me, to my body that I can’t explain.”

He leaned in and kissed me again, fiercer this time, plunging his tongue deeply, sucking my lips, devouring me. My mind reeled, so caught up in a pounding lust that I couldn’t quite grasp my need for control. What was stopping me? Why was I holding back? My body was demanding more, and my mind was too engorged with desire to fight it any longer. I didn’t need to think about eternity, or even tomorrow, for that matter. What I needed was right here, right now, laying next me, wanting me. That was good enough.

When he pulled away this time, he ran his hand along the curve of my hip, sliding up my waist until he cupped my breast. His lips were at my ear, kissing my lobe, trailing along my neck and then back up again. His breath was warm, teasing. “Bond with me,” he whispered and then kissed down to my collarbone, all the while kneading my breast with his massive hand, circling my nipple with his thumb.

My body hummed with desire, my core clenching, anticipating, wanting more. He ground his erection into my hip, letting me know just how much he wanted me to say yes. Letting me feel the depth of his need for me.

When he moved back up to my ear again, his tone was more urgent. “Bond with me, Morgan.”

With my eyes closed and my body arching into his touch, I turned my face toward him, slanting my mouth up. “Yes.”

His lips crushed down on mine, his tongue lacing with mine, entangled and urgent as he trailed his hand down to the waist of my yoga pants, tugging at the elastic. Caught up in the frenzy, I broke away from his kiss and pulled my shirt over my head, then helped him slide off my pants before I kicked them to the floor. He glided his hand along my thigh and hooked his fingers under the elastic of my panties while his lips clasped onto my nipple, teasing me through the cotton of my bra.

His touch, his mouth, his tongue had my body humming. I was wet for him, my desire pulled taut. He hovered over me, resting his weight partially on one arm as he worked me into a frenzy of excitement and need. He kissed a trail back to my face, claiming my lips, exploring my mouth, stealing my breath again with his deep kiss.

I unknotted his towel and pulled it free, releasing his erection so that I could slide my hand down the length of him. I tried to encircle his penis with my fingers, but found that I couldn’t span its width. Instead, I wrapped my hand around him, covering what I could and slowly began to stroke, loving his strangled groan as he thrust into my hand, only allowing himself a few moments of pleasure before he pulled my hands away and brought them over my head so that I was stretched out next to him.

“Too much of that and I’ll be ending the mood prematurely,” he growled before capturing my lips once again.

He pulled my panties from my body, breaking from our kiss only long enough to rip them from my legs. He did the same with my bra, discarding it on the floor with the rest of my clothes. And now I was bare, totally free from limitations, completely exposed to his roving mouth and lustful eyes, and it made me shiver with excitement.

He slid his fingers down to my sex, stroking me, circling my clit with his fingers, bathing me in my own juices while he worshiped my body. I was so ready for him, building on a wave of pleasure so intense that I didn’t want it to stop.

“Please Cal,” I begged as I arched into his hand, wanting desperately for him to fill me, to take that growing need and push me to my limits.

He didn’t make me ask again.

He moved over my leg, positioning himself at my entrance, resting the head of his cock just between the folds of my sex before running it along my slit to drench in my juices.

“Morgan, open your eyes.”

I did as he asked, staring up at him, mesmerized by the look in his eyes, lost to the desire.

“Morgan,” he whispered, his body shaking with his own need. “I’m going to etch you with my magic. I need you to rest your hand over my heart. When we bond, I won’t hold back…I want you to know that, I can’t stop myself from being with you.” He nudged me with his cock, nestling deeper between my legs, so close that I ached for his thrust. He let out a quiet moan, closing his eyes briefly, and when he looked at me again, I could see his control slipping, his desire mounting. “Do you understand?”

I nodded and moved my hand to his chest, resting it over his heart. He lowered himself down until his body was almost crushing mine, his weight resting on his left forearm while his right hand lay over my breast.

“I give myself to you, my Huntress, with a vow of protection that no beast shall put asunder.” His fingers trailed over my skin. “Take all of me and use me as you will.”

A flood of warmth washed over me, heightening my senses, sending my nerves into a frenzy of tingling pleasure. It was the magic—I knew without being told—the intoxicating spill of his power into me. With it came such an intense need for him to take me, to claim me as his that I arched at the same time as he thrust, pushing into me with one long delicious stroke. I arched higher, gasping at the tremendous feeling of fullness that came with him, stretching out to accept him and all that he had to give me.

After the initial thrust, he lowered himself down to cover me completely, drawing his cock out to the tip before pounding into me again and again and again. I wrapped my legs around his waist, loving how deep he was, as his hips slammed against mine, shifting my body back with the strength of it. There was something urgent about his rhythm, something primal about how he was taking me. Like he was marking me as his, and the thought of that made me giddy.

He punished my lips, his tongue moving in time with his penis. My orgasm built like a tidal wave, pulling me so taut that I thought I might explode as I crashed over the edge. Sparks of light flashed in front of my eyes as wave after wave of ecstasy cascaded over me. He bellowed with his own climax, thrusting ever harder until he was spent.

He collapsed on top of me, his cock still pulsing, my sheath gripping him tightly as I shook with the remnants of my own orgasm. I had the strangest sensation of peace at that moment—satiated and whole.

He pulled himself out and curled me into his chest, my back nestled against him, his hand possessively cupping my breast. “You are mine now, Morgan, and I share with you all that I have,” he whispered before I drifted off into a contented sleep, only slightly aware of his fingers trailing along my stomach, tracing the same pattern again and again into my flesh, a pattern that my brain just started to recognize before sleep claimed me completely.

How could Cal think that bonding with Morgan would help him distance himself from her? Bonding had made his craving worse, not better.

He buried his face in her hair one more time, deeply inhaling her sweet scent. Being with her, having his hand against her breast, her body nestled into his was intoxicating and overwhelming, and he didn’t want to let her go.

Andrew must be insane to think that I can stick to the plan.

His thoughts were bitter, angry and frustrated. The moment the bond had taken hold of him, connecting him to Morgan with his magic, was the moment he knew that he was in for the biggest battle of his life. Andrew expected Cal to distance himself from his Huntress—not necessarily physically, although it might come to that eventually—but emotionally. Cal needed to be reserved, cold, so that when the time came to battle Lazarus, there would be nothing preventing him from shoving a blade into her chest if she betrayed them.

Yeah, right.

He ran his hand down her stomach and over her hip, loving how she moaned and nestled closer to him even in her sleep. She would feel it too, this need, this bond. He didn’t want to leave, even though he knew he must. It would be better if she woke up in the morning without him there. She would feel the sting, get angry with him, start a fight, and that would make it easier to keep his distance.

He ran his hand back up to cup her breast, loving the heavy feel of it resting in his palm. She was so perfect for him, unlike any woman Cal had ever been with before. She’d revved him up even before the bonding, and now the intensity to be with her—in her—had him hard and aching once again.

He sighed as he rolled away from her, his body protesting the sudden loss of her warmth as he pushed himself to sit at the edge of the bed. It was for the best, he reminded himself. There was no use in letting the attachment grow even though all he wanted to do was lie there until she woke, then make love to her again—slowly this time, savoring her in every way until they both collapsed once more with exhaustion. But that wasn’t his only need. He wanted to know her, to learn about her past, her childhood, everything. She had said her family was dead, that she was alone. He wanted to hear her stories, comfort her pains, make it so that she was never alone again.

He lowered his head into his hand and sighed again. It was no use. He needed to wall himself up, remove his emotions, seal away his desire. He couldn’t touch her. In fact, he didn’t even trust himself to train with her. He’d have to ask Lance to continue training her, at least until Cal got his emotions under control.

Jealousy flared at the thought, his mind screaming against such a ludicrous idea.
Mine. My Huntress.

He shook his head as he rose from the bed, giving one last look of longing over his shoulder. Her blanket draped over her curves like a white spill of snow, creating hills and valleys over flesh that he craved to touch again. He jerked his gaze away and moved toward the dresser that held his clothes. He needed to get some sleep, and even though his instinct bellowed for him to get back into bed with her, he would force himself to go over to the barracks where the other Hunters slept.