seemed to slow down in that instant, and
Brie saw Alistair’s mad scramble to regain his footing. She lifted the knife
just before Owain made impact, and saw the instant he realized what she had. His
roar was deafening, full of pain and fury, and she felt the first press of his
flesh and fur just before he was yanked roughly back again, crashing to the
ground where Alistair finished the chase that had begun so long ago. Blood hung
in the air like crimson rain as Owain thrashed, then was still..
When Alistair finally staggered over to her, still a wounded
wolf, Brie had no misgivings. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried
her face in thick fur. She felt the burst of heat when Owain’s body
self-immolated, but she didn’t bother to look. It was over. She and Alistair
would get their chance.
They’d earned it together.
EIGHT
Alistair awakened with a smile on his face, the first
time in memory such a thing had happened.
He inhaled deeply, his thoughts still pleasantly groggy, and
was treated to the warm scents of vanilla and apricot, sweet as sunshine.
Slowly, he became aware of the woman he was curled around, the warm skin pressed
against his, the peaceful sound of a woman’s breathing.
His woman. Brie.
And now she was his in every way she could be, save one. There
were words he needed from her. It was odd, to be the one needing reassurance
after all that had happened. But he couldn’t have done what needed to be done
without her. It was strange, to depend on another person so quickly after all
this time relying on himself.
Strange. But in this case, it felt right. He’d been so
determined to stand for everyone else that he hadn’t imagined anyone might stand
for him. He owed Brie his life. But for now, he thought his heart would
suffice.
That would please her, he thought. He hoped to find many more
things that would please her, as long as she promised to stay by his side. The
terror he’d felt when he’d sensed Owain’s approach near sunrise was a thing he’d
never forget. He never wanted to lose her. Not when he had only just had a taste
of all he’d been missing in his life.
Alistair lifted up on one elbow to look down at Brie’s sleeping
form. His heart ached at the sight. She was so beautiful, an endlessly
fascinating mix of innocence and experience. He remembered the way she’d stood
before him last night, like some moonlit goddess without a stitch on, and felt
his cock stirring immediately. He didn’t think he’d ever get his fill of her.
But then, that was what happened when you found your mate.
Especially, Alistair thought with a smile, if it was at the
most inopportune time imaginable. It was a good thing Brie had decided to take
matters into her own hands, or they might still be dancing around one another,
looking and not touching.
And gods, did he like touching.
Brie stretched against him with a sexy little sigh, then opened
one green eye to peek sleepily up at him.
“You’re awake,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a
yawn.
“Finally.”
Werewolves could heal from all manner of wounds if given the
time and rest, and from the look of the sky just visible beyond his curtains,
they’d slept all day. It was what he’d needed, what they’d both needed after
Brie had done her best to tend his wounds and they’d collapsed on his bed.
Neither of them had spoken much. They hadn’t needed to.
At that point, it had been enough just to quietly bask in their
relief.
Now, though, he was awake, and feeling better than he had in a
good long time.
“How do you f— oh ...”
He answered her question before she could even finish it,
entering her in a single, swift stroke and finding her wonderfully ready for
him. He stilled, looking down at his woman as they lay together, joined. Mine , he thought, and savored the heat in Brie’s eyes
that told him she was thinking just the same.
“I owe you my life,” Alistair said gruffly.
“I already owed you mine,” Brie said,
Alan Cook
Unknown Author
Cheryl Holt
Angela Andrew;Swan Sue;Farley Bentley
Reshonda Tate Billingsley
Pamela Samuels Young
Peter Kocan
Allan Topol
Isaac Crowe
Sherwood Smith