Page 6

It feels like the day after the night before, but without the fun, I think to myself as I flip another crepe. I haven’t made these in years or even decades, but something about this morning called for crepes.

Perhaps it’s my complete lack of sleep. Entirely my own fault, of course. I live with two beasts inside my soul, one admittedly much quieter than the other. But when he wants something, he’s very persistent. Considering my wolf was very much in agreement over wanting to take my mate properly, I did the only thing that wouldn’t blow this situation up and left the girl alone.

However, the darker part of my vampiric nature couldn’t resist having a small taste. Able to tap into a person’s subconscious mind easily if there’s a connection, I allowed myself to take a quick peek. That’s all it was supposed to be. But Willow’s all but welcomed me in and rolled out the red carpet. I was able to manifest within her sleep state, touch her soft skin…I was just warming up when she’d flung me out, regaining her consciousness.

If that wasn’t bad enough, due to my acute hearing, I was then forced to listen as she pleasured herself down the hall. At one point, I had stormed to the door, ready to go take her myself, but having tasted her mind, I’d also tasted her innocence. If I had taken her last night, it would have been vicious. My beasts are not gentle, and she isn’t ready for what that means. I can’t lose her on day one. Not for my own sake, our pack alliance, or the research.

So, I did the only thing I could and took a cold shower. Which didn’t work to calm my urges as I imagined her curvy body sinking to the floor in front of me, her large breasts within my reach, her eyes dark with desire. My vampiric and shifter beasts desperate to lay their claim to her, I found some release, but it was hollow, as I suspect it will be until I can sink into her delicious body for the first time.

And now I’m making crepes. Proper ones. The sort I enjoyed in the streets of Paris many years ago—I pause, my hand on the spatula, mentally counting the years—perhaps a century ago.

I have always had a sweet tooth but haven’t indulged in proper crepes since my last visit to the Old World. I wonder why I haven’t indulged in many of my old pursuits in a very long time; perhaps that’s why my beasts are so restless with Willow so close. On that front, crepes will have to suffice today.

Just as I’m beginning to think I might have to wake my young bride, I hear footsteps in the hall upstairs, and then the sound of her soft steps down the stairs. As she walks in, I add the final crepe to the stack and place them on the kitchen island. I see her eyes dart between me and the food almost suspiciously, as though crepes were the last thing she expected to see this morning. I can’t help but chuckle at the scene.

“I know shifters are more inclined to a heartier breakfast, but I have rather a sweet tooth.”

She freezes for a moment, her auburn hair falling in freshly washed waves over her shoulders and her pale skin contrasting beautifully against the black turtleneck she’s wearing. My eyes are drawn to her ample breasts straining against the fabric, and an image from my vision last night appears unbidden in my mind. When my gaze flickers back to her face, her cheeks are burning again. I find that I like her even more flushed.

She approaches the island cautiously, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. She has no idea how much restraint I’ve shown already.

“Wow,” she breathes. She picks up a crepe and takes a tentative bite, her eyes closing in pure bliss. “Mmm,” she moans around the mouthful of food, and I can’t help but smile as I watch her. “This is...” she trails off and finishes the bite before continuing, “this is incredible.”

We eat in an almost companionable silence for a few moments until she clears her throat. “I think you mentioned you spent time in the Old World? Is that where you learned to make these so well?” She says, gesturing to the crepes.

I nod, watching as she devours the second crepe and consider my next move. “Oui. I was actually born in France.”

She looks momentarily surprised at my confession and seems to consider her response thoughtfully as she chews. “That’s where Monet was from, too. That explains the picture, perhaps?” she says, pointing at a painting on the wall behind me. It’s one of his famous waterlily paintings, and I’m glad she obviously likes it, too.

I turn to face it with a small smile. “Ah yes, he’s one of my favorites from that era.” I wander over to the painting, taking in the vibrant colors and the soft brushstrokes. “This one is actually quite old, from his late career.”

She joins me, leaning in to get a better look at it. “Wow,” she breathes again, this time sounding genuinely impressed. “I can’t believe something like this is just hanging on your wall. These are usually in galleries. How old is it?”

Her question catches me off guard slightly. She seems so young—she couldn’t possibly be that interested in art history. But her earnestness disarms me, so I decide to play along. “It was painted around 1916 or so,” I tell her.

“That’s amazing!” She exclaims, looking at me with wide eyes. “And how old…are you?”

The sneaky question hangs in the air between us for a moment, and I see amusement and intrigue dancing in her eyes. I know what she’s asking; she can’t help herself. She is a scientist, after all. But I do not intend to reveal all my secrets so readily. So instead, I divert her attention back to herself. “You haven’t told me much about your parents or your journey here,” I say casually as I pour us both some fresh orange juice from a pitcher on the countertop.

She sighs deeply before answering, clearly not wanting to dwell on her past, either. “They were killed by hunters when I was young,” she begins reluctantly before taking a sip of juice and looking away.

“There is too much tragedy in this world,” I say, and she looks back at me, almost trying to gauge my sincerity. “I can understand why our research into stopping the hunters means so much to you. Speaking of which, we should get you to your lab.”

She immediately looks grateful for the change in conversation, her eyes lighting up at the mention of the new lab. And for that, I’m glad Willow’s research here is vital to bringing down the Order, understanding the Volva magic, and stopping the hunters before they strike again.

“Erm, before we go,” she begins wearily, and I wait for her to continue. “No one is going to think of me as their luna are they? I have friends who are lunas and they have a very different, erm, role. It’s not like this. It’s not a…formality, as you said.”

Silence falls for a moment as I consider my response. A wash of disappointment threatens as she clearly shies from the title of being my luna. As a half-human, perhaps she doesn’t feel the mate bond. “I’m sure your new colleagues at the lab will be more interested in your mind, love.” I say lightly, adding, “I would never kiss and tell anyway, even if you did want to thank me for such a continental treat for breakfast.”

I can’t help but step closer, enjoying how her eyes widen and her heart beats out of control. She appears reluctant to be my luna, but her physical response remains the same as that of our dreamscape. She wants me, and that, I can work with. For now, anyway. Suddenly, her eyes clear, and she slips to the side, collecting the breakfast plates.

“Obviously, thank you for breakfast,” she stammers, “I just wanted to clear up any pack misunderstanding. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.”

“Oh, you could never.” I chuckle.

Her presence in my home is turning out to be a torturous bonus for me. As I watch her clearing the plates, the sunlight dancing over her fiery hair, illuminating her beautiful skin, my thoughts return to the frustrations of last night, and I can’t help wondering if her proximity is a bonus or a curse. I suspect if my beasts don’t get their mate soon, it will become a curse.

Willow seems surprised that her team will be assembled at the lab when we arrive. I’m not, as I had instructed Rian to have the lab ready to go by this morning; the rest of the unpacking is complete, and the lab stands ready. Kaiden arranged for the rest of the samples to be brought with them yesterday, so Willow has everything she needs to get started properly today.

I stand back as the team introduces themselves and listen to Willow outline her research. If I wasn’t impressed before, I am now. Her intelligence and poise in discussing the breadth of her knowledge is simply breathtaking.

Their interest in their new luna is clear, but she appears oblivious to the role's gravitas. After our slightly disappointing conversation this morning, it’s clear she still thinks that aspect of our deal is just a formality.

Our medic, Sara, steps forward. “It is a pleasure to be working on such important research with our new luna,” she smiles.

I see Willow’s eyes flicker to me as if waiting for me to interject and play the situation down, but that’s the last thing I intend to do. “We are proud that our luna is playing such a crucial role in this fight against the Order and those who threaten our way of life. I know you will all welcome my mate and help her in any way you can.”

The small crowd claps and cheers as I wrap my arm around Willow’s shoulders, enjoying the way her small body feels against mine. As the group disperses, I follow Willow into her new office and close the door. I expect a little pushback, but when she turns to me, she looks genuinely angry.

“What was that? Your mate?” she glares. “Everyone knows it was just a formality for assurance, right? We don’t want everyone thinking we’re actually proper mates. Do you?”

My wolf bristles at her words, but I try to school my features as I see something reflected in her own eyes. A searching perhaps, “And why not, love? Do you find me so repulsive?” Her cheeks blush the most furious shade of red I’ve seen yet, and I chuckle, “No, I didn’t think so.”

I see a mixture of shock and mortification flit across her features as she tries to regain her composure. I shouldn’t enjoy teasing her so much, but I can’t seem to help myself; I simply love getting a reaction from her.

“You really are something else, aren’t you? You’re just playing with me. I’m here for the research. Your pack should know that.” Her words are icy, and I’d almost believe her if she didn’t bite down on her lip at the end. I’ll be damned if it isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. I’m not sure why she thinks I’m playing with her though.

I clear my throat. “I have even arranged for the pack to start giving blood samples. I know you’ve been desperate to get your hands on my DNA, after all.”

She relaxes slightly and gives me what appears to be a genuine smile, “That really is great news; the more data, the better the research.”

“Fabulous,” I tell her, taking off my jacket and starting to undo the buttons on my shirt, “You can do mine now; I know you’re dying to look under the hood, so to speak.”

“What are you doing? And why are you taking your shirt off?” she practically squeaks. “Rian’s the technician. He can do it.”

I pause for a moment, flashing her one of my best smiles before adding. “I’m not creasing this linen by scrunching it up. And I don’t want Rian touching me. I have a luna now.”

She rolls her eyes, but she doesn't look away as I shrug off my shirt. I’m not even sure she realizes she’s doing it, but I feel her desire rolling off her in waves. It’s intoxicating, and I find myself leaning in closer to her.

“Will you take my blood? Please,” I ask softly, holding out my arm.

Her cheeks are flushed again as she looks at it, clearly struggling with her own intentions. But eventually, she takes a deep breath and nods. Her hands tremble slightly as they brush against my skin, tying the tourniquet and holding my arm firmly, and I can feel the heat radiating off her body. The scent of her arousal is overwhelming, making it difficult for me to think straight.

"Rowan," she whispers, her voice hoarse with desire as she uses the needle to expertly take a small vial of blood expertly from my vein.

The sensation is strangely euphoric for my vampiric beast, unlike anything I've ever experienced before. As she moves to put the vial away, I reach out and gently grasp her wrist, pulling her back toward me. Her heart races under my touch, and I can feel the softness of her breasts pressed against my chest as I lean down to whisper against her neck. "I admit," I murmur against her skin, "that was more enjoyable than I expected. I don’t know why I resisted so long."

Just then, there's a knock on the door, and Rian pokes his head in. "Sorry to interrupt," he says sheepishly, "but the team is having a meeting about the samples."

Willow pulls away from me suddenly, blushing even more furiously than before. She clears her throat and addresses Rian, “Of course, I’m coming.”

Rian clearly senses the charged atmosphere in the room and looks between us. Rian is one of the few members of the Nicholson pack whose vampire is also quite dominant, and the mix of blood and sensuality in the room will activate his senses. “Rian, walk with me for a moment,” I tell him, pulling my shirt back on as Willow practically flees the room.

He follows me as I storm through the lab's entrance, allowing the bracing cool air to hit my body even as I finish buttoning my shirt. I turn slightly, and Rian is watching me with a smirk on his face.

“Did I interrupt?” he asks.

“What. Do. You. Think?” I snap, but even my anger doesn’t wipe the satisfied smirk from his face. I step closer to him, and for the first time, doubt enters his eyes.

“I apologize, of course.” He bows his head slightly but still chuckles. “I hope she’s taking everyone’s blood if this is the effect, though.”

Seeing red, I punch him before I even know what I’m doing. My wolf surges into the fight before I can pull him back. Rian hits the ground and stays down, his hands raised in surrender. “You will treat your luna with respect. You will treat me with respect. Do not make me any enemy today.”

Rian is the son of one of my oldest betas. A friend was killed by hunters, and Rian took his place. He has my automatic respect, but my wolf and vampire are steeling for a fight. Willow’s proximity and the intimacy of the blood draw have created a perfect storm of possessiveness.

“I understand, Rowan,” he replies, far more seriously than I ever known him to. “You have my word. I understand now.”

I nod, and he backs away, returning to the lab.

He may understand now, but I’m not sure I do. I haven’t fought over a girl in centuries, if, indeed, ever before.