Chapter 7
Misti held still. She knew what was about to happen, and she couldn’t fight it, not if she wanted it to work. And, if she was being honest with herself, she didn’t want to fight it. That bothered her even more than mating with Anders. She shouldn’t even be contemplating this act of betrayal. But here she was, not only considering it but accepting it, waiting for it… needing it.
“Are you ready?” Anders stared deeply into her eyes.
She nodded.
He stepped back and helped her lower her leg. Then he aided her to lie down on the grass. It tickled her back, but she didn’t react to it. All she needed was to take what he gave her. Simple… or it should be.
His teeth changed into his wolf fangs, and he leaned over her, his fangs touching the weak skin of her neck but not breaking the surface. He was testing her, giving her time to push him away, to stop the proceedings.
The moon help her, she didn’t want him to stop. Yes, there was so much she didn’t know about him, but in so many ways, they were rather similar. She could spend the rest of her life with him. If for nothing else, their sex life would be amazing, and yet, she suspected that was not the only reason why she was agreeing to this.
He nuzzled his nose against her throat now, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. Their sex had been rough and hard, but now, he was showing another side of him, gentle and caring, and it made it so much easier to accept him. That was all mating was—acceptance. Not love. When the first werewolves had been formed, their numbers had been so few they had to mate every time a werewolf female went into heat. As such, mating came to be more about preserving the species than about anything else. It hadn’t taken long for those first werewolves to realize they needed to mate before having sex. Otherwise, the female never became pregnant during her week-long heat.
She traced her fingers along the curve of his jaw. He gently nipped at her fingers, not hard enough to draw blood. Her own fangs popped out at that, and he pressed his lips to hers. While love didn’t have to be a part of mating, maybe she would one day grow to love this wolf.
When she had been young, she had often daydreamed about mating with a werewolf she loved. Her father found out somehow, and he had quickly dispelled that notion from her head. “Love is for fools, and the leader of the Red Nightwalkers cannot be a fool. Do you want to love or lead?”
“Lead,” she had answered immediately, but her father had only made a scoffing sound and stormed out of her room. For years, he had nurtured the hope that he and her mother would have a son. She had always known he hadn’t wanted her to be his only option for his heir, and when her two brothers died—the first hours after the birth, the second at only seven days old—he had started to look elsewhere. It wasn’t until the past year that he threatened her about her cousin Xavier.
But with Anders, she could get away from her father and his putdowns and his hatred. They could start a new pack and maybe finally be able to know peace.
Although he retained his hand, his fingers had taken on his claws. He stroked her cheek gently, not harming her, and she shivered at his gentleness. Claiming wasn’t supposed to be like this, she didn’t think although how could she know when she had never been claimed before? But the way he was staring at her, touching her, caressing her… it made this all seem so much more personal and deeper, and it certainly wasn’t just about being able to get her pregnant.
It wasn’t just about acceptance.
Her fingers transformed into claws too, and she held out her hands. His touched hers, palms to palms. Then she cradled his face, her hands and claws on his cheeks, and she lowered him down so she could kiss him.
Her fangs ever so slightly nipped at his lower lip.
She had been the one to make the first mark, the first of many they would make. Because he wasn’t going to be the only one to do the claiming. If he wished to claim her, she was going to claim him as well.
“Misti,” he said, her name slightly garbled because of his fangs.
“Anders,” she returned.
He trailed his claws all along her body, her face, her cheeks, down her arms, on her torso and breasts, along her stomach, down her legs. Not once did he pierce her skin, yet her whole body hummed, burning as if his touch was made of fire.
Wishing to do the same to him, Misti gently touched his chest and pressed back, making certain her claws did not pierce his skin. Slowly, he eased off of her and stood. She did as well and trailed her claws against his body, both front and back. How this had changed so much she didn’t know, but this mating was going to change her life forever.
And she wasn’t frightened, not one bit. Their lives might not last long, but they would go down fighting at each other’s side. And if they happened to survive tomorrow and the next day and the next year and decade? She would welcome it.
She gave him one last kiss then stepped back slightly and nodded. Time for the marking, for the mating to be completed.
Only ten pairs of yellow, orange, or amber eyes stared at them, flashing eerily in the surrounding darkness Snouts appeared next, along with fangs dripping with saliva.
They had company, their mating time up before it could be completed, and these werewolves did not look happy to see them. In fact, they looked ready to kill.