Chapter 9
Hating herself for not feeling anything for her husband, disgusted that her body would betray her and long for another, Misti opted to play the role of a coward and did her best to avoid both men. As the moon rose in the sky, she didn’t sleep. Instead, she tended to the wounded as best she could. She washed wounds, covered them, located and brought those in pain willow bark. It felt good to be useful, and for a long while, it helped to occupy her mind.
But every so often, her thoughts would drift, and she daydreamed about Anders. It was natural to want sex after a battle, an affirmation of life and vitality, and she hadn’t been able to satisfy that craving in the flesh, so her mind did what it could. As she washed out a deep slash mark on a man’s chest, she imagined Anders washing her body, soapy water dripping down her breasts, his eyes darkening with desire, his hands rubbing the soap into her skin, his fingers squeezing her breasts, his thumbs rubbing her nipples…
Her nipples tightened at the thought. As it had turned out, a few wolves had maintained the packs throughout the battle and the flight, so she was wearing a long shirt that fell to her upper thighs. Thank goodness it was loose. Otherwise, everyone would be able to see just how aroused she was from her daydreaming.
Once her breasts were cleaned, he’d move around to her back, giving her a massage as he washed her, her body relaxing beneath his expert care. She wouldn’t put it past him to slap her ass a few times. And then he’d spread her legs apart and slip a wet hand between her legs and…
“Misti?”
She blinked away her daydream, but nothing could stop the growing dampness between her legs. “Yes, Tia?”
“You should rest some.”
Misti shook her head. “I’m fine.” She glanced around. Several others were aiding the wounded, but many still needed attention yet. “I’ll sleep soon,” she offered.
“Please do. None of us want anything to happen to you.”
The other werewolf walked away, and Misti sighed. She wasn’t anything special. There wasn’t a need to be overly protective of her. If it weren’t for her and Anders, none of these werewolves would have been injured. None of the others would’ve died.
They agreed to march. They knew it meant war. But knowing that and seeing it were two different things.
Misti forced herself to focus on her patients for another hour. Only a few still needed aid yet, but her body was fighting her. Her eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds. Time to go to sleep. The moon was already beginning to descend. If they were to resume marching at first light, she wouldn’t get more than a few hours. And if Kastner and Talon wished to talk strategy with her, she might get even less than that.
It took her some time to find a good resting spot, but she did. A tree root served as her pillow, and she closed her eyes. Immediately, her daydream converted into a dream form. Anders’s hand was between her legs, rubbing against her slick folds.
“You want to be clean all over, don’t you?” he murmured in her ear.
“Or maybe dirty,” she whispered, her eyes closing as he shoved a finger inside of her.
She tried to reach behind her to feel his cock, but he moved just out of the way, so her hand missed.
“Dirty, huh?” His breath was hot on her ear, but she shivered. “I do like dirty.” His nose nuzzled her neck, and he slipped another finger into her. “Talk dirty to me.”
“Oh. Ah…” It was so hard to concentrate, to think, when he was touching her like this, pleasuring her like this.
“That’s not really talking.” He moved his hand away.
“No!” She grabbed his wrist and tried to move him back to her heated core.
He wiggled free and wrapped his arms around her, holding her back against him. She fit so perfectly against him, as if they were made for each other.
She rubbed his arms. “I feel so turned on when you hold me like this,” she whispered.
He kissed her neck. “Do you?”
“And I bet you feel so turned on when I hold you like this.” She eased a hand between them to grab onto his cock.
Anders shuddered against her. “Oh, yes,” he hissed.
She pumped her hand up and down as his fingers returned inside of her. Just feeling him, touching him, enjoying each other’s bodies was more than enough for her. Moving faster and faster with her hand, she gasped out, “I want you to finish wherever you like on me.”
“Wherever…” She could hear the smile in his voice.
Misti was ready to lie down so he could have his voice, could have his way with her, when someone called her name.
Her eyes opened. The dream slowly faded away, leaving her disappointed and wet. Her hand was between her legs. Had she been fingering herself in her sleep?
She sat up and blinked, glancing around to locate who had woken her. The haze of sleep faded away as the sounds of the present came to her: the sounds of battle.
Misti jumped to her feet, wide awake now. Dawn hadn’t approached yet, and she knew that between her lack of sleep and her new injuries, she was not in prime condition. Still, she wasn’t about to allow those she had just mended to be left behind as dead or for the living to fight the battle for her.
So she plunged into the thick of it, changing into her wolf as she went. A claw struck a man just beneath his right eye. Her teeth snapped at another’s paw. With speed she shouldn’t have, she darted out of the way of blows, crouched down, and would then launch an assault of her own. For a long while, she kept up this dance and even put down several wolves.
But then blinding pain filled her almost before the slash came. It was long and deep and across her back. She collapsed to the ground. A heavy weight, that of a werewolf standing on top of her, kept her down. Paws reached for her throat. Suffocation. So this was to be her end.
No. No, she would not go out this way. She would not give up and surrender and allow death to come and take her.
With a howl, she lifted onto all fours and rocked her hips so suddenly, the werewolf tumbled from her back. Snarling, he leaped at her, but Misti was ready. She wound up and slashed him, her claws digging deep from above his collarbone down against his ribs. Stickiness coated her fangs as she pulled away.
The werewolf staggered and then collapsed. In no time, a puddle of blood leaked out and all around him.
Misti took two steps and collapsed. Her back, the injury was too severe, and despite her best intentions, she couldn’t keep on fighting.
Crawling, she inched toward the outer ridges of the battle and tried to hide in some underbrush. Better to live for another day and fight then instead of dying now from stupidly fighting on.
This battlefield was becoming as body-littered as the first one. Her gaze roved over the werewolves until she located the two men in her life: Anders and Talon. They were exchanging words. Strange that they were in human form. Neither seemed happy. In fact, they looked quite angry. Without warning, they both shifted. Good. They were going to enter or reenter the battle and…
Or not. All Misti could do was watch in horror as the two men attacked each other.