Chapter 17

Chapter

Seventeen

A t the end of dinner, a beautiful cake was wheeled out from the kitchen. Renata had only seen desserts like that in magazines. She hadn't imagined that anything quite so grand existed in real life.

"I didn't have time to do a proper cake in celebration of your bonding, but I thought we should have something," said Franco. "When the bonding takes place, I will create a cake worthy of the event."

Renata looked at the tiered cake decorated with elaborate flowers and latticework piped in buttercream icing. "This is his make-do cake?" she whispered to Branson.

"Absolutely. Wait until he has the time to make you a special one. His cakes are amazing, and the best part is they're delicious."

A piece of cake was placed before everyone. Renata was startled and then delighted when the pack pounded their tables and howled in celebration.

"I love this," she said. "How wonderful it must have been to grow up here."

"It was. Keep in mind this place and these wolves are now yours as well."

Once they'd eaten the cake, James, who was sitting two seats down from Branson with Shea in between them, sat back and said, "It's probably best if we table any serious discussion until morning. Nothing can be done tonight, and I think it's going to take some time to sort this out."

Skylar nodded. "I agree, and by then I should have some additional information from my friend at Scotland Yard's forensics team. Lucky for us, he's a wolf and is going in tonight to get a really good look at that lorry driver and run a few tests. He said he'd get back to me first thing in the morning."

"Then let's agree to meet after breakfast," said James.

"Anyone interested in going for a run?" asked Bran. "Renata and I used to run in Israel, but I'll wager she hasn't run with anyone since then."

"Sounds good. There are changing rooms at the back of the house, or you can go up to your rooms here. All of the door handles are designed so they can be manipulated by paws—one of my mate's improvements to the house," said James.

The group dispersed and Bran walked Renata up to their room. He opened the heavy oak door and ushered her in. A fire had been started and soft lighting bathed the room in a romantic glow. The bed had been turned back and fresh flowers were placed throughout the room.

"I think this room is bigger than my entire farmhouse," Renata whispered as Bran closed the door behind them.

"That's a bit of an exaggeration," he said. "This is an old stone manor house. The walls and doors are thick, so you don't need to worry about voices carrying unless we're having a knockdown, drag-out shouting match. And even then you'd have to be standing right outside the door to hear anything. We have an attached bath and there is an escape door that leads to tunnels which run throughout the estate. We'll go exploring one day."

She smiled at him. "You love it here."

"I do. It's where I grew up and as I've said, I had a wonderful childhood."

"I like your family and your mother is so loving and special. Hard to believe she and my mother went through similar experiences and were affected so differently."

"My mother had my father. No offense, but your aunt wasn't a wolf and wasn't your mother's fated mate. Your mother didn't have an entire pack to lean on. I think it's amazing your aunt and mother raised you to be so strong and kind. I would love to have known them, although I suppose I do through you."

Renata shook her head. "How do you always know just what to say? And don't think I don't notice that rumbling thing you do sometimes."

Bran chuckled. "My father does that to my mother all the time and sometimes it annoys the hell out of her. Come on, let's shift and go downstairs."

"Bran? Can we howl at the moon while we're out there? There's a full one tonight and I'd like to do that. I haven't howled since the last time we ran in Israel."

He folded her in his arms. "Don't fret, Renata. We're together now and that's all that matters."

They removed their clothes, shifted, and went down to join their friends. Bran wove his way through the throng of wolves who had gathered. In addition to the seven of their friends who had decided to come along, about a dozen more from his own pack were waiting for them. He waited for Renata to move to his side, wagged his tail, and then bounded off. Renata fell in beside him.

She'd shifted on her own property in the intervening time since she'd last run with him, but he didn't need to know that. She had always rejoiced in the freedom of running with Bran in the hills above the kibbutz, but this was different. Renata felt as though she belonged here with him—had always belonged here, running with these wolves. Her pack.

Bran led them out through the gardens and up along a path that ran parallel to the main road. After crossing over the drive, and past the ornate iron gates, he ran to the top of the headland. There was a prominent point that overlooked the beach and most of the estate. The wind was howling and even this high up, she could feel the spray from the ocean as it crashed against the rocks below.

The full moon was suspended in the night sky overhead amid the stars, playing hide and seek with the clouds. As beautiful as the desert in Israel had been, this place that had spawned Branson was so much more. It was as if the strength and power that flowed through the land and seemed to be so much a part of him, was welcoming her home. She wondered in how many other lifetimes had they stood together in this same place?

Branson stepped back and nodded to her, wagging his tail. Renata lifted her muzzle to the sky and howled. The sound was not mournful. When the rest of the pack began to sing with her, she felt a tingle run through her wolfen body and knew she was right where she was supposed to be—with the wolf who had loved her so many times before. The chorus of howls rang through the inky darkness in a celebration of life.

When they finished, there was a feeling of camaraderie that flowed through them all, connecting them to one another in a way that was exhilarating. Bran galloped off and she followed along with the rest of them. The path that led down to the expansive beach was steep, but well-worn and easily traversed. When they emerged onto the sand, the large group of wolves ran along the water's edge, splashing in the surf and wrestling with one another.

Renata followed Bran into the chilly water and jumped onto a large rock that protruded from the sea. They sat next to each other, but Bran positioned himself to the back of her so that his larger body acted as a buffer against the cold wind that blew in off of the North Sea. He had thought to keep her warm. She would have to remind him that she was used to the even more frigid temperatures farther north in the Hebrides.

When everyone had finally tired and were lolling around on the beach, Bran and Renata leaped back into the frigid water and they swam to shore. Rolling in the sand to dry off, they rested a moment before standing again. Bran dashed toward the other end of the beach and led them all back to the house.

Upon their return, the wolves split off from the group to seek their own beds. Bran, Renata, and their guests bounded up the stairs to do the same.

Once the door to their chambers closed behind them, Renata and Branson shifted back. Bran grabbed her and growled provocatively. He fell on her, devouring her like a starving man would eat a long-awaited meal. Wedging himself between her thighs, he grasped her hips and held her steady as he shoved himself inside her.

Renata's body arched as he slid home, climaxing just from his possession. She'd missed this. Missed running with him, missed how aroused he always made her and how he had always been able to take that arousal and let her inhabit a place where time and space had no meaning. All that existed was Branson and his love for her.

Her body remembered what it had always been like with him—possessed by and being full of him. For years she had tried to convince her mind and her emotions that her body was wrong, but it wasn't. Renata knew that as many times as they'd come together in the past or would in the future, each time that he entered her would take her breath away and allow her to soar among the heavens.

Once Bran had entered her with a single, hard thrust he held himself still, allowing her to adjust and accept his reclaiming of what was his—what had always been his. It was in moments like this that she was reminded that nothing mattered but them and their love and commitment to each other. She had been so wrong not to trust what her heart and soul had always known. As long as they were together, there was nothing they couldn't do.

He dragged his cock from the very end of her sheath toward the entrance, letting it rub along her inner walls, letting her feel every inch of him. Bran groaned as her nails found the muscular cheeks of his buttocks and her legs wrapped around him, refusing to let go. Renata moaned. He began pounding inside her—powerful, deep strokes that made her cry out as he forced her to climax again.

Branson picked up the pace and strength of his thrusting, hammering her pussy in a way she knew would make her sore. He'd always been able to do that, and she reveled in his command of her body. He continued to drive into her, taking her ever closer to the abyss so that he could send her flying. As his cock stroked that sweet spot inside her walls, Renata raked his back with her nails, yowling in surrendered ecstasy. He ground himself against her, holding out as long as he could until he finally let go and flooded her with his cum.

He stayed inside her as he collapsed on top of her, kissing her with a casual passion. Then he rolled to his back, taking her with him.

"Welcome home, sweetheart," he rumbled to her.

"From the first moment you touched me again, I was home."

As she lay her head on his chest, she knew it was true. The restlessness, the yearning for something more that she had felt since she had returned from Israel had nothing to do with feeling as though her life and its work should be more. Instead it was the knowledge that she was missing the other half of herself. But now the pieces had finally fallen back into place.

He brushed her hair back, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we need to kick the Darkness' ass and then figure out what we want to do with our lives." She lifted her head so she could gaze up at him. "And know this—I have no intention of letting that thing, whatever it is, rob me of my happily ever after."