A Deep Dark Call Read online

  She smiled bitterly, replaying the scene in her mind. “He told me that I was vile and depraved. That he understood it was not entirely my fault. It was the taint in the blood. He told me I’d attacked my suitor like a wild beast. That the man had wanted me committed to Bedlam. That Papa had prevailed upon him not to do so. There was no question, though, that I should remain in London.

  “My father still had some favors owed to him by important people. One of them had agreed to provide references for me as a governess. A governess in a remote place—just as I’d wanted. He did not even give me the chance to accept. And, well, the rest you know...” She trailed off.

  “He shipped you off here,” Ioan supplied.

  She nodded. “The funny thing is that I don’t remember any of it. Me attacking the man, that is. Until this morning, I’ve never really thought myself capable of such a thing... I simply refused to believe it, you see. I blocked it out of my mind.”

  Her husband’s next comment surprised her. “Pity you didn’t maim him. He deserved it.”

  She laughed, in spite of herself, but a wave of immense sadness washed over her. She felt empty, so completely empty, that she needed someone to hold, someone who would fill the void inside her.

  “I want to make love to you,” she told him.

  Not sex. Not mating. Love.

  “Maybe we should talk first,” he said, and there was uncertainty in his eyes.

  She shook her head. “Not now. I could not bear it.”

  He nodded, understanding her and capturing her lips with his. But she broke the kiss.

  “I want...” she began, but was unable to find her words. He seemed to understand her perfectly, though.

  “You want to kiss rather than be kissed, to touch rather than be touched, to tell me what to do rather than be told what to do,” he told her with a smile in his voice.

  “Yes,” she said.

  He sighed, but there was a mischievous grin already blooming on his lips.

  “Fair enough,” he said, pointedly folding his arms against his chest. “You can do whatever you like with me, if that’s what you wish.”

  Her initial shyness was already melting. “Whatever I wish?” she asked.

  She licked the corner of his lip, where some weeks ago she’d bitten him. The scent of blood was still on him, but this time, she reveled in it. Deer blood, she sensed with clarity, but chased the thought away immediately. She did not want to think about blood now.

  It was a good thing they were already naked. She was not clean—the smell of snow and wood was clinging to her. Somehow, however, she knew that he would not mind.

  Now he was lying on his back with arms tucked under his head, and the position was most certainly inviting. So was the look he had on his face. It was apparently innocent and meek, but Lucy knew too well that beneath this apparent submissiveness was the predator ready to devour her. She liked this suppressed aggression, this barely contained simmering force of him. It was, she realized, what mostly drew her to him—violent, rough passion, barely contained, but always ultimately controlled.

  She was now already straddling him, bending her face toward his, her long brown hair tickling his face tantalizingly. She lowered her head and lightly nipped his shoulder, then placing a trail of soft, teasing kisses on the column of his neck. She could feel his elevated pulse and wickedly knew that he was already hard and ready for her. She could feel his erection brushing against her own body.

  She smiled. This time she was the one who was going to take her time with him.

  She licked the hollow of his throat, fully breathing in the wonderful scent that was his. Then she glided her tongue on the skin of his muscled chest, finally deciding to flick it against his left nipple. She grazed his nipple with her teeth and had the pleasure of sensing a suppressed gasp. So this area was also sensitive for males. She smiled to herself, fully pleased with the outcome of her experiment. She raised her head and savored the look on his face. After a while, she was going to test just how sensitive the lower areas of his body were.

  She kissed him on the mouth, noting that he was not making any gesture to put his arms around her, but broke the kiss just as she sensed he wanted to deepen it. He did not attempt to recapture her mouth.

  “You’re still in control of yourself,” she told him cruelly.

  He sighed. “It takes years of practice,” he said with a slight frown.

  “Shall I make you surrender?” she asked softly, drawing featherlight circles on his already sensitized skin.

  He did not answer her, but instead closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He had immense self-control as she explored, kissed and licked nearly every inch of his body. She gloried in the lean beauty of him, stroking skin that soon became hot with want.

  She did save his manhood for last. It was something that she was planning on taking her time to savor. She smiled mischievously when she tentatively licked the tip of it.

  “I am not experienced. Is this how it’s done?” she asked him innocently, stroking his cock with silky fingers and feeling it stir beneath her hand.

  She was not experienced at all, but somehow, when it came to him, she seemed to know what to do. It was probably all those dreams of his body—they had already taught her what was right.

  “Somehow I have a feeling you know exactly what to do,” he said raggedly, as if in echo of her exact thoughts.

  She found that she did know exactly what to do. She licked her finger and slowly teased his tip, and had the satisfaction of seeing him gasp and dig his nails into the sheets.

  “So much self-control,” she murmured flippantly, as she finally put her mouth on him, marveling at the silky, salty feel of his skin beneath her lips.

  She licked and sucked until her lips began to tingle pleasantly. Her sex was very hot and wet for him, and she took a moment just to picture how good it would feel to have this hard length finally slide inside her.

  When he gasped again, she triumphantly knew he had almost reached his brink. Her tongue licked the tiny white drop that had appeared on the tip of his cock.

  She should be merciful, although she did not hear him beg for mercy. With clarity, she understood why it was always so important that he should be in control. His force and energy were far too great and raw. He had learnt how to keep them leashed. Barely, but still, always so. Tonight, however, she needed to let him know that he could safely surrender to her, just as she had, several times already, surrendered to him.

  She straddled him, teasingly rubbing her already inflamed sex against the tip of his manhood. “So?” she asked him cruelly, tantalizingly brushing her hotness against his own.

  He finally reacted, delivering a very light slap on her buttocks and then grabbing her hips. He did not thrust into her, though—he was waiting for her to make the next move.

  She now felt unbearably hot for him. The playful slap had sent exhilarating goose bumps down her entire skin. It hadn’t had any sting to it, but just the faint promise of it, which made it all the more delicious.

  “You are not playing fair,” she chided in a ragged voice, keenly feeling the scorch of his hands against the tender skin of her hips.

  “I am sorry. My hands will no longer behave. Maybe next time you should bind them,” he murmured huskily.

  She laughed. Somehow she had a feeling she might want to do that in one of their future encounters. Not yet, though.

  She slowly slid down his cock. He felt scrumptiously hard and hot, and she let him guide her then, matching the rhythm of his thrusts first and then beginning to fall into the rhythm her own body craved.

  They both soon climaxed, sealing their joy with a kiss that felt both passionate and sweet. He held her tight against him, remaining fully embedded into her, and she reveled even in the feeling of his hardness going unhard inside her.

  They were both sated, but sh
e felt desire claim her again, even more intoxicating, as he started to kiss the hardened tips of her breasts.

  “You’ve had your fill, now I should have mine,” he told her between kisses. “I’ve missed the feel of these full breasts.”

  “They’re too big,” she told him, suddenly feeling shy of both her own body and of what had already occurred between them. She realized how experienced he really was. He must have had many women before her, probably far more appealing than she was.

  “Fishing for compliments?” he asked her laughingly.

  She shook her head, embarrassed, but he raised his eyes to her, telling her in a serious voice, “I love your breasts. And, yes, they are big. Just as big as I like them. Just as full and firm as I like them.”

  She almost blushed, which was silly, in view of what she had already shared with him.

  He held her above him, intently gazing into her eyes. “I have not been very gentle or patient with you, have I? I should have taken more time and said the things that needed to be said. But, you see, I was always so wild for you.”

  He placed her hand on the spot of his heart. It was beating hard and fast, betraying renewed desire.

  “Your body makes me wild. Your scent and your voice make me wild. I am wild for your breasts, and for every delicious curve of you, and for your sparkling eyes and quick temper, and...”

  She felt his hardness stir into her again. Gently he lowered her on the bed and placed himself on top of her. He made love to her, slowly and sweetly.

  It was much later that they both finally lay in each other’s arms, content. She was utterly exhausted, but still, a nagging uncertainty would not go away. She did not want to think now of what had happened in her dreams of the woods. Not yet. She was still unsure of herself and so afraid, uncertain of what she really was and of what she was becoming for him. She needed to know for sure what part she would play in his life.

  “You’ve had many women,” she told him.

  It was, of course, a statement and not a question. He did not answer, just nodded silently.

  “Tonight I thought to make love to you until their ghost scent on you is finally gone. Until all your former lovers are really gone,” she said.

  She felt relieved saying this, realizing it was true. Maybe it was ridiculous, but now she just wanted him to remember her and no one before her.

  “I want them all gone,” she persisted.

  “But can’t you tell?” he whispered softly. “They already are.

  “They already are,” he repeated, kissing her on the mouth.

  She slept finally, feeling safe at last. In her dreams, she was Empress Wolf again. It felt as good as before, but this time it did not feel as frightening.

  * * *

  Lucy had fallen asleep, and she finally looked peaceful, her full lips red and swollen from kisses and sex. They still had a couple of hours until the whole household woke. Perhaps he should sleep too; he felt exhausted. However, he could not.

  He had done wrong by her. He had seen her as a fiercely passionate woman who had come from overseas, but also as the little silver wolf she was. A reckless huntress, as he’d learned last night, far more fearless than his own watchful wolf self. But she was younger than he was and more inexperienced, and besides, she was on unfamiliar hunting ground, far away from her own home. In spite of her passion and fearlessness, she was uncertain and vulnerable. The story of her father’s treatment of her made him painfully aware of how vulnerable she really was. No wonder it had taken her longer to embrace her wolf self.

  He clearly remembered that conversation they’d had in his office, the morning after her arrival. “I understand your father is still in England,” he’d said conversationally.

  She had nodded, and he had instantly felt there was something she was not telling him. “Do you plan to return to England eventually?” he’d asked.

  She had shaken her head, with a faint smile. “No. There’s no reason for me to do so. Not anymore.”

  He should have pressed for more. But he’d been too hot for her and drunk on his own desire to probe any further. Now he understood she had been hurt by her father.

  That first night they had made love, he had waited for her in the woods, with blood pumping in his ears. He’d been able to shift for the first time. The anticipation of hunting and mating was pulsing in every inch of his fur. But she had not come, and he had been disappointed, finally understanding that she hadn’t made the transition as he had. He’d kept away from her those days, afraid that he might rush things and really hurt her, but also too intoxicated with his newfound wolf shape. He had spent three full days as wolf in the woods. At the time, he had told himself it was for the best, but now he saw that he had been selfish.

  She was having a hard time accepting her wolf self. The transition that she had fully made last night had not been as smooth as his. It clearly had been painful, even more painful than their first mating had been for her. For him, finally connecting with his wolf self had been a release—a long-awaited liberation. It had not been so for her, and this was certainly because, unlike him, she had known nothing of her heritage. Her father had definitely kept it hidden from her or had not fully known it himself, and had made her feel worthless and vile. He had made her fear what was truly happening to her.

  Ioan remembered when his own father had told him the full truth about what they were. He’d been thirteen at the time.

  “Guardian wolves—that’s what we are, the sons and daughters of this family. We can trace our ancestors even beyond Roman times, to the White Wolf. Our roots are here, and our roots are Wolf. Our branches are, of course, human. Varcolaci. Both Man and Wolf, sworn to protect both men and wolves, guardians of this land, for all times.”

  “So we are shape-shifters!” Ioan had exclaimed excitedly.

  Of course, he’d already known deep inside what his father was now telling him openly. He’d been anticipating it, the moment when he’d be able to finally shift to wolf form.

  His father had shaken his head sadly. “In the old times, all guardian wolves were shape-shifters. They were able to take both human and wolf form whenever they pleased. But for a long time now, no one in our family has been able to shape-shift. We are still guardians and we keep our connection to the land. We can bind our minds with those of the wolves in the woods and command them. And you, you are already able to do that, even if you aren’t fully grown yet. However, you won’t be able to shift into Wolf. Ever. None of us can.”

  It was, his father told him bitterly, like a deep sadness looming now over their family, because they longed to be Wolf, but could no longer be so. Some of the members did not feel it so keenly. Those were fully content to be humans who could connect with wolves. But some felt the longing like a consuming ache. Like a curse.

  It had turned out to be Ioan’s case. The Wolf in him was strong, no matter how hard he tried to keep him still. As he became a man, the wolf became even stronger. He could connect with the wolves’ minds even when he was not at home, even from overseas. He was a guardian through and through and a constant watcher over the lands, even when he was not here. All this came at a high cost. He was restless and dissatisfied. He felt incomplete.

  There might be a way, his father had told him that day, long ago. It was something that he knew from his own grandfather, who had passed the story on to his family. Wolves were complete only when they had a mate, after all, and they mated for life. It was just like in the old tapestries that had been in his family for generations. Day needed night and the sun needed the moon. Man and Woman were born from the tree of life, and so was Wolf.

  The guardians clung to their dream past, Dreamtime. Ancestral memories, his father had called them, memories of a very distant past that were no longer clear and were shaped like dreams. In these dreams, they all saw the blue tree of life, and they knew that the tree was made up of the two liv
ing essences, mingled.

  The reason why wolf guardians could no longer be complete was that they could no longer find mates. Their kind was dying and their numbers dwindling. Their family was one of the last guardian families in this country. And besides, a guardian’s mate could not just be any other guardian wolf, but the one that had been preordained by the stars. Not just any mate, but the true mate that would bring completeness.

  “So, you see,” his father had told him sadly. “None of us can shift anymore. It’s very hard to find a true mate. Maybe such a thing doesn’t even exist. Maybe it’s really only a dream. Not a true Dream. Just fancy.”

  Ioan had shaken his head in puzzlement. “I don’t understand. I know you love Mother. So doesn’t that make her your true mate, even if she isn’t really a guardian wolf?”

  His father had smiled. “Of course I love your mother very much. But you see, that true mate my grandfather was talking about, it has to be a guardian wolf. And Grandfather never mentioned love. Maybe love isn’t even involved... I don’t know. Grandfather called it a wolf bond. A strong bond like...”

  His father had sighed, then smiled again. “I think you’ll understand what I’m talking about when you’re older.”

  “I think I understand it now,” Ioan had said. “Wolves mate. They just mate, for life. They don’t love, like humans do, do they?” His father had nodded.

  “Still, I think I will one day be able to shape-shift,” Ioan had told his father confidently. “She has to be out there somewhere, this true mate. And maybe I don’t even have to find her. Maybe she will find me.”

  His father had raked a hand through his hair. “Ioan... I don’t know... I really don’t know.” Then he had probably seen the obstinate look on his son’s face, because he had added, “The wolf has always been strong in you. Far stronger than in me, and he will become even stronger...so maybe you’re right. I really hope so.”

  When he was thirteen, Ioan had harbored high hopes of finding the true mate that would set him free. And later, when Iancu had become his friend, he’d felt confident both of them would be released. He wasn’t alone. Just like him, another was waiting to find a true mate. Iancu was a night flyer, the only other being with supernatural powers Ioan had ever met. He too needed a mate in order to fully connect with his true self. Iancu’s life, however, was unlike Ioan’s. Sex was the only means of stilling his torment and of staying alive. His friend fed on it, just as a wolf would feast on prey. Only a true mate could rid him of the painful need of forever looking for prey.