Chapter 38

T he stars of Caledorna watched them dance, sing, and rejoice, but Breighly was sure that the night creatures prayed to the Gods they would stop soon. Emara had disappeared with Torin just moments ago, taking time to themselves, and as Breighly watched them leave hand in hand, an envious streak pulled apart her heart.

She wasn't envious of them—the Gods knew they deserved whatever happiness they had left—but when she looked at them, she wanted what they had. Emara had looked so beautiful as she walked to where Torin had stood at the edge of Lake Rhiannon. Her hair had been braided with flowers and her beautiful dress had trailed behind her like a sparkling snowdrop. She had looked at peace as she walked towards the man she would spend the rest of her life with. And she had never seen Torin Blacksteel so smitten in her whole life. His eyes had burned brighter than the sun as she had walked towards him.

She had witnessed the Empress of Air marry the Commander of the Blacksteel Clan, and that was epic as fuck.

The Wolf Moon was just one night away, and it was clear the clan was feeling her effects. The men were either blindingly drunk or edging towards a witch, drawn to feel the touch of someone under the mating moon. Even though the alcohol had started to make her bones a little soft, she knew that what she really needed was a decent run under the moonlight. She always felt the need to shift into wolven form when the moon was swollen; it made the Shifter magic tingle through her veins and her feral heart thump louder in her chest.

Moving silently into the forest, Breighly removed all of her clothing and let the moon soak in her bareness. It felt incredible to take off her tunic and drop her weapon belt from her hips to the grass. A gentle breeze washed over her skin, and she sighed in relief. Her eyes closed and she blocked out all the distant chatter in the background. She was finally alone. She was comfortable being naked, but what she really longed for right now was to be running on all fours as fast as she could until the beams of the moon's magic couldn't keep up with her. Finally, she shrugged off her boots and felt the light touch of air swarm around her ankles and toes. The pads of her feet found the mossy earth, and she took in a huge breath, releasing it with a smile.

Shifting, she made off as swift as an arrow.

There was no target, no goal, only trees, moss, and the feeling of the earth beneath her paws. Even the other wildlife cleared a path for her. She veered to the left and then to the right as the branches of the trees combed her face.

To feel the summer air carrying the starlight through her fur was exactly the medicine she needed. She could smell the pine trees and the swirling smoke from the campfire. Breighly could taste the summer berries growing around her, their sweetness on the wind as it hit her lips. And the sound of her paws bounding on the slightly damp moss was ritualistic as it matched the rhythm of her heart.

But it would have felt more wholesome had Roman been with her, snapping at her ankles to be quicker. She wished Eli were running alongside her, racing Waylen to be at the head of their pack.

She ceased as a tight pain went through her heart, her paws skidding on the ground. She dug her claws into the earth and finally halted.

They wouldn't be together again, not all of them. Eli was gone.

Forever.

And it was unbearable.

A broken howl shattered through her throat, and her neck craned back as she called up to the moon or Vanadey or anyone that would listen to the pain in her cry.

Why would the Gods let the Dark Army take Eli? He had been one of the good ones. He was an integral member of the pack, a great wolf through and through. He was the most mellow and charming of her brothers, kind and affectionate, always protecting her.

And he had met with such a violent end.

He had been shredded. She would never forget the way his legs lay on the foyer floor or the amount of blood that soaked his clothes.

A howl broke from her throat again, one that was married with the agony in her heart.

She would always be grateful to Emara for what she had done for Eli. Word had come from Melione—a trusted spirit witch in the markets—that he had gone over to the spirit world without the pain of his trauma. Emara had failed to heal him, but she had taken his pain, allowing him to pass over peacefully.

A whimper left her and her head bowed as the pain in her heart stabbed through again.

She had prayed to the Gods to take their mother instead of Eli. Why had they not taken someone who abandoned her four pups and stole from a family that she had brought into this world?

Her heart cracked open at the truth she smothered with so many distractions.

Breighly shifted back to human form and let out a scream, unable to bear that her pack would feel her hurt even miles away from where she stood. She let out a sob as her fist hit the bark of the tree trunk in front of her. Pain seared up her hand and her bones hummed with a biting pain that brought more tears to her eyes. But it was better than the pain in her heart, so she punched again. She punched until the salty tears ran down her chin, soaking her bare neck.

A snapping branch had her whirling around.

She wasn't stupid. She knew that a full moon often brought out more demons from the underworld, their portals being stronger than normal. Her heart started thumping as much as the pain in her hand.

A shadow appeared from behind a tree. Instantly crouching, she readied herself to shift into the monster she could be. An inked warrior walked into a beam of light that had found a gap between two trees. She snarled and he placed his hands up.

His golden eyes were filled with caution. "It's me."

She snarled at Artem Stryker again. "Don't you know it's total stupidity to sneak up on a wolf?"

Especially one filled with pain. One with an injured heart.

His face was taut, pale. "I heard you howl and scream. I—"

"I am fine." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His eyes tracked the blood on her hand, examining her open flesh that surrounded her knuckles.

"Breighly," Artem whispered, "are you hurt?"

"I said I am fine," she snapped. "You can see that I am absolutely fine. "

"Clearly." Artem's shoulders squared, and his strong chest puffed a little. "The minute I heard a howl in the woods, I knew it was you. And I was worried you had..." His voice trailed into nothing as he stood watching her.

He had known her howl, and he had gotten here faster than she thought a hunter could run. She wanted to question it, but the intensity of his gaze had her whole body on lockdown. A tingle of panic ran through her heart when she couldn't find a single part of the comical mask he usually wore. Maybe she watched him more than she would care to admit. But right now, there was something different about the air that lingered between them.

He reached down to the hem of his tunic and pulled it over his head, revealing every part of his torso and arms. Amongst the muscles were inked pictures all over his skin, telling stories of who he was and mattered to him. Her lips parted to ask about them, but she stopped herself, knowing that she shouldn't go there. She had always been curious as to why he would mark his full body with ink. Did he want to hide the skin underneath?

But it was beautiful.

Breighly didn't need to know any more about him. He was a hunter, a guard, and the son of the chief commander, and that was all she needed to know. That was all that mattered. He was her companion in guardianship, nothing more.

"Here," he said, "put this on. I know you left your clothes back near the camp." He tossed her his tunic. "I passed them on my way here, along with your weapon belt." He shot her an unimpressed look that stirred up desire in her heart. He was so attractive even when he was frustrated with her, and that was a whole lot of trouble.

A. Whole. Lot. Of. Trouble.

As she caught his tunic, she was graced with his warm scent of baked oranges and soft summer rain. The tunic was still warm when she pulled it over her naked skin, and it was around three or four sizes bigger than her own. She had worn dresses with a shorter hem.

He crossed the space between them when she was dressed, and his russet hair looked darker in the moonlight. He stopped just before her and lifted her hand so that he could inspect it.

"It's just a little blood." Her heart thumped against her ribs, and she was grateful that he didn't have wolf hearing.

He looked down at her through knowing eyes. "I know what blood looks like." Again, there was no grin, no jest. She had been so horrendous to him lately. And she knew she had hurt him even though she didn't want to.

"I think we should get back to camp and get Sybil to take a look at this." He looked over her knuckles again, and instead of pain being the dominant feeling in her heart, it was longing. Longing for his hands to move from her wrist to her back. She wanted his hands on her hips, on her thighs, pushing through her hair.

She shut down those thoughts because it was the right thing to do.

For both of them.

He dropped her hand, and it was like he had been holding her heart. His dark lashes swept up. "You will heal quickly anyway. You Shifters always do."

He had almost turned away from her when her hand shot out and grabbed his thick wrist. He twisted back around to see her, his huge frame drowning out anything else in her vision.

"I am sorry for how I treated you on the beach." She glanced up at him and immediately noted the surprise on his face. She took a deep breath. "I told you to stay away from me and I shouldn't have. That is not what I want," she admitted. "I shouldn't have been so horrible to you. You didn't deserve it."

If he had wanted to keep his emotions a secret, then he had failed, because his face sold him down the River of Vanadey. His eyes widened and his lips parted. Shock lifted his brows.

She hesitated as his silence lasted longer than she hoped. "I was in a foul mood and I shouldn't have taken that out on you." She looked him over. "I have…I have a lot going on in my head and at home, and I just snapped." She shook her head and looked at the ground. "I don't want you to not speak to me." She curled her toes as his gaze saw right through her soul. "I don't want you to stay away from me. It wouldn't feel natural."

She didn't know why she was putting this out into the open when moments ago her heart had decided that this couldn't be anything. Why was her heart betraying her head already?

Finally, he looked down at her hand on his arm and then he met her glare. "All I wanted was for you to speak to me and tell me what was going on. I wanted to help."

Artem was short in his delivery, and she had never heard him take that tone with anyone.

Shame engulfed her. "I know. I know. I am a mess." She offered him a broken smile. "I am a total fucking mess and I don't know how to be so…together like all of you."

"You think I have my life together?" A dry laugh left his chest. "You think hunters have any say in how their lives go?"

There was so much she wanted to say, and it looked like he did too, but if she did, she knew she would just dig herself a deeper hole.

"I don't want to stay away from you either," he finally made an admission of his own, and Breighly's heart kicked against her chest. "I can't explain what I feel. I just know that when you are in the room, I can't stop myself from finding you."

His words were like a battering ram that forced open the closed doors to her heart.

Fuck. Why was that the truth? Why did she feel the same?

The truth of her heart was not to be explored.

"We can't do this, Artem," she whispered, knowing full well that because she had denied herself something, she wanted it all the more. "We are not supposed to. You are a hunter and I am a wolf."

He moved further into the thick air between them and his hand wove its way in behind her ear. She fought off a shiver, her body bending to him too easily. She hated that she was so quick to welcome his touch.

"I know," he said, his brow pinching together. "But I can't stop thinking about you, and that is the truth. So fuck our stupid traditions. It's like we are drawn together, different factions or not. What does it matter?"

Her hand found his strong chest and she swallowed at how good it felt below her. "It's the moon. It makes us do crazy shit. It's not real."

It wouldn't matter when the sun came up, she told herself.

His face brightened as a chuckle escaped. "I have never met a girl who blames everything on the moon quite like you do."

She bit back a smile. "It's the truth. This is her kingdom and we are all just her puppets. And when she goes to sleep during the day, we have to live with the consequences of that. It's selfish, really."

He smiled at her words like he didn't quite believe them, but instead of challenging her, he said, "I don't believe that anyone or anything in this world could tell you what to do, Breighly Baxgroll. And that includes the powers of the moon." His voice was so low and charming that it reached out for her like a lure and pulled her in.

She was sinking, and fast.

"I think that's the most intelligent thing I have ever heard you say, Hunter." She flashed him a daring smile, and she could see how much it affected him. She wasn't sinking alone; she heard his breathing hitch as he rubbed a thumb over her cheek.

He lowered his chin, and she could feel his warmth rush towards her. "There are a few more things I would rather be saying now, Breighly. But I don't want to confuse anything. You have made yourself very clear."

The way he said her name sent stars shooting through her veins and fire up her spine. How was he still getting under her skin? She had shut this down in more ways than one and more times than she could count. How was she so quick to find herself in murky waters again?

"Especially when I see you standing there with my tunic on and the Wolf Moon's beams glittering through your hair. I know you didn't mean what you said to me on Tolsah Beach, but somehow, it still struck me like an arrow in my gut."

Fuck.

"But here I am, still so lost in trying to understand you, like a man who has never understood a woman before." His tongue rolled over his lips slowly.

Why did his words always send her frantic? She couldn't let them. She had to shut this down, right?

The Wolf Moon's energy was pounding through her heart. As much as she should fight it, she knew it was a lost cause tonight.

"If the tunic is ruining your better judgement, I am sure I can take it off," she replied. The invitation to start this forbidden dance between them had just been delivered, and she wondered if Artem would choose to feed the same longing that she felt right now.

It was definitely the moon. Once she had passed, her mind would be clear again, free of him. Free of her head telling her heart that she was stronger than this and not to give in.

Artem finally grinned, and it almost stopped her Gods-damned heart altogether.

Why could Emara's guard not be a fucking troll instead of a colossal tattooed warrior?

His smirk was full of cheek. "If you took it off, my judgement wouldn't even be rational, Princess." His eyes glittered with feral promise, and her core tightened.

Princess.

She knew he only called her that to mock her position in the pack, but why did her body react to him even when he did? Why did she want to see that feral side of him again? Fuck it. She was playing with fire now, and the only way to stop the burning in her heart was to feel something else entirely, to share that burning with him.

She swallowed, keeping her eyes on his, and drew a clawed nail down the front of her tunic. It parted like water to reveal half of her nakedness. "What does your judgement think now?"

His large hand that still lay at the back of her neck slid up and fisted in her hair, his hips rocking towards hers. He hovered just over them. "I think my rational judgement is completely irrelevant when all I can think about is fucking you hard against that tree behind you."

She dug her nails into his torso, dragging all the way down to his waistband like she knew he liked. A groan left his lips like a growl, and that encouraged her into pushing past the band of his leathers to find his want for her, solid and ready. She stroked his length once, and he shuddered under her touch, his head tipping back. This time, she didn't fight the smile, she let it spread across her face. Breighly looked up to find his glare penetrating through her, and it called to all the darkest parts of herself. It silenced all the voices that told her she shouldn't be doing this.

She stroked him again, and she could feel his impressive length grow harder for her. His grip tightened on her hair, and she hissed in delight as he yanked her head back and leaned into her arched body.

She smiled at him as she said, "You know this needs to be the last time, right?"

"I know it won't be the last and so do you," he vowed, his eyes hungry and wild for her. "So stop fucking pretending."

Seeing him in a dominant light only encouraged her wickedness to tease him.

"This is just the moon and her energy." She nodded, trying to convince herself. "This is nothing more."

"Nothing more than me giving you what you need," Artem agreed on a rumble of need. "What you deserve."

"And what do I deserve?" she asked smartly.

"Absolute fucking feralness."

"Is feralness even a word?"

"It is now."

His lips came down like a comet and smashed against hers as if he had been waiting a millennium to crash into earth. Before she knew she had moved, her back hit a tree, and it knocked the air from her lungs. The bark spiked into her skin beneath the tunic, but Artem gave her no time to recover as his tongue claimed the inside of her mouth. His hand was still yanking her hair back, tilting her head the way he wanted, and she leaned back and exposed her neck to him. He took it with his teeth, his lips, and his tongue, feasting on her. She moaned in ecstasy, and he wasted no time as his hand found her peaked nipple underneath the tunic.

She writhed against him. She needed his fingers, his cock, his anything.

Still gripping her hair, Artem slid his mouth up to her jaw. "You have been the one in control many times." He coaxed her nipple between two fingers, and already she wanted to scream. "But this time it's my turn."

A thrill ran through her, and the magic in her blood pounded at his dominance. She could see that he had been willingly letting her do whatever the fuck she wanted before, but the tables had turned. Breighly was out of control under his touch, her hips driving into him, desperate for that sweet friction, the climax already beginning to build.

The hand that had teased her flesh dove down and parted her legs. He growled again as his fingers found how ready she was for him. "I fucking love how wet you get for me, how you moan for me, how you feel when I am inside of you. You can't pretend this is going to be the last time when you want this just as badly as I do. Do you want me to stop?"

He teased two fingers across the bundle of nerves and she saw stars. How was he leading this? She had always been in control of what they did together.

"No," she breathed, pulling him closer to her. She was a slave to his touch. When he only continued to tease her, she dragged her nails down his arms. "I want it. I want it now. Give me what I want."

"Don't tell me what to do." He moved his hand from her hair to the front of her neck, pinning her against the tree. "Because I am going to make you come harder than I have ever before. You good with that, Princess?"

Delight ran through her like lava, filtering into every nerve in her body. "Good with it," she repeated as she felt his fingers flex around her throat. She tilted her chin, relishing in the challenge. "I hope you don't disappoint, big boy. "

The mockery made Artem's smile all the wider. His large hands gripped her hips and turned her. Her ass slammed against his cock and she almost moaned at the touch of it against her heat.

"Put your hands on the trunk," he demanded.

She craned her neck so that she could look back at him. She raised her eyebrow in true Breighly fashion. "Yours or the tree?"

A barking laugh left his lips before the feral energy of their lust took over and he thrust himself inside her.