Chapter 19
It took some while to set things to rights. There were the bodies, of course, which Bram and Liam cleared away to be disposed of…somewhere. Patches of the forest were seldom frequented by people, and Clara had an intimation that they would now serve as the resting places of the Guardians.
Well, she hoped those men had no rest, even in the hereafter.
From the landing, she now watched Hugh, Des, and Gideon—everyone now in human form, and fully dressed—clean away the cracked tiles, broken furniture, and shattered wood from the entryway.
They’d gone through the rest of her house, which had been reduced to a shambles.
Nearly every room in the manor had suffered some form of destruction.
Deep gouges in the floorboards, fractured walls.
Bloodstains—everywhere. It would require time to repair.
She went down the stairs and to the kitchen, where she grabbed a broom. She returned to the entryway and joined the men. They worked together quietly, in a kind of peculiar harmony. As harmonious as one could be, in the wake of such a tremendous battle.
“How did it work?” Hugh asked, breaking the silence. “I’d no ken that I could change to a wolf if the moon wasn’t full.”
“I cannot explain it.” Clara continued to sweep up fragments of wood that had broken off of a demilune table she had never liked. “Something in me knew I could do that for you.”
“I’ve heard of such things,” Gideon answered. “The wolves I went with as a lad, they’d explained it to me. Every once in a great while, there’s a person who can complete the moon for a wolf or a pack of wolves. There’s a…a bond.”
She paused in her work, leaning on her broom. “When I first met you, all of you, I felt it. A union between us. I thought, perhaps, I was imagining things. That I was so starved for company that I fabricated a connection.”
“No fabrication,” Des said. “I sensed it, too.”
“As did I,” Gideon added.
“And me.” Hugh grinned. “I counted myself the luckiest bastard in Britain to have such a bonny and wise doctor, so kind and so clever and brave. Even when I was bleeding onto your sheets, I wanted to drag you across my lap and kiss you senseless.”
It might have been after a tremendous battle, where she’d seen and done things she hadn’t believed possible, yet Clara blushed all the same.
“You’re all flatterers,” she chided.
“Highwaymen haven’t a need for flattery,” Hugh said. “We take what we want. In point of fact…”
He strode to her, hale on his mended leg, and cupped her head in his large hands. When he tilted her head up, angling her, he waited a moment, a question in his eyes. She gave a slight nod. His eyes glinted with humor and he grinned again, then put his lips to hers.
Hugh didn’t waste time on prefaces or preludes. He kissed her deeply, boldly. She welcomed his tongue in her mouth, tasting his fire and spirit as he claimed what he desired. Namely: her.
Clara’s heart had calmed somewhat after the fight with the Guardians.
But it drummed fiercely in her chest now, and she let go of the broom so she could grab hold of Hugh’s wide shoulders, pushing her body tight to his.
He thrummed with energy and force. Difficult to believe that only a day ago, he was weakened by his injury and fever.
Now, he was all vitality. Her head spun with each of his devouring kisses.
Someone whistled, and she tore her lips away from Hugh’s.
Gideon and Des watched them, but far from looking disturbed or angry by the fact that she was kissing another man, they each wore expressions of avid interest. Bram and Liam stood in the open doorway, and they also stared at her in Hugh’s arms. They, too, gazed at her eagerly.
A rush of arousal flooded her body. She hungered to have them look at her as she kissed Hugh.
“I want…” she said breathlessly.
“Yes?” Des pressed.
“You called me the new pack leader.”
“That, I did,” Des said.
“Is that what you all wish?” she asked. “I’ve no experience in such a thing. Surely Des would make a finer leader than me.”
“We wouldn’t have defeated the Guardians without you,” Des said.
“You helped us transform into wolves,” Gideon continued.
“If it hadn’t been for your strategy against them,” Hugh noted, his arms still around her, “our losses would’ve been greater than a couple of nicks.”
“You kept your head,” Bram said. “And so, we kept ours.”
“Been missing clear-eyed leadership,” Liam added.
Bram winced at that, but he nodded.
Clara carefully disentangled herself from Hugh’s embrace. What she needed to say next, she had to do on her own, without anyone’s protective hold.
“If you want me—” she began.
“We do,” Des said at once.
“Then I want to seal our bond.” She looked at each of them in turn. Des, keenly handsome with a roguish but kind heart. Gideon, gentle and deeply protective. Hugh, wicked and lively. Even Bram and Liam, who fought so fiercely, and trusted her to lead them.
She drew in a breath, allowing herself to fully inhabit who she was and what she desired.
“I want you. All of you.”
Night had fallen. The waning moon hung big in the sky.
The dining room was a long chamber, with portraits and landscapes hanging on the wood-paneled walls.
An equally long table stretched down the middle of the room.
The debated silver epergne sat in the middle of the table, gleaming in the light of dozens of candles that burned in sconces and in sterling candelabras.
High-backed chairs were arranged at the head of the table and on either side.
During the manor house’s heyday, it hosted the local gentry, aristocratic visitors, vicars, and judges.
Tonight, however, the dining room hosted five highwaymen and one widow.
Clara’s heart pounded as she looked at the men. They had positioned themselves in a semi-circle, facing her as she had her back to the head of the table.
She had bathed and now she wore a light, loose gown, no shift beneath. The men, who had also cleaned themselves, were in shirtsleeves and breeches. No one spoke, but the air was taut with palpable anticipation.
“Tonight,” she said, gesturing to the table, “we feast. And the feast…” She inhaled. “Is me.”
There was a charged moment, and then Des broke from the ranks to stride to her. He wrapped one arm around her, his hand against the lower dip of her back, while his other hand curved around her head. His eyes were bright and sharp as he looked down at her.
“Sparrow,” he rumbled, “you will have everything you desire. This night, and all the nights after. So long as you want us.”
“I want,” she murmured.
“When the time comes,” he said huskily, “will you take our mark? Will you have us as yours?”
“Will it hurt?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“It might,” he said. “We must bite you.”
“I see.” She fought the urge to curl in on herself protectively.
“I’ve never given my mark to anyone,” he confessed lowly. Then, slightly louder, he added, “Nor, I warrant, have any of us.”
She glanced at the other four men, who shook their heads.
“Is that something you want?” she asked them. “To mark me? To be mine?”
This time, the men nodded eagerly.
“I’ve never had anyone who wanted to be mine,” she admitted.
“That changes now,” Gideon said.
Her heart brimmed, and her eyes grew hot.
After a tremulous inhalation, she said, “Yes.” Louder, “Yes. I want your mark. I want you all for myself.”
Hugh grinned, and Gideon gave a smaller, earnest smile, while Liam and Bram nodded again. Des’s expression was fierce and profound before he lowered his mouth to hers, claiming her lips for a long, hungry kiss.
She felt herself being backed up, until the edge of the dining table met her behind.
Without breaking the kiss, Des gripped her arse and lifted her to sit on the table.
He stood between her legs, kissing her deeply as his hands roved over her body.
He caressed her throat then cupped her breasts through her gown.
She closed her eyes and arched into his touch.
And then Des slid away, and Gideon took his place, also kissing her. His fingers combed through her hair before drifting across her face, then going lower, to also stroke her breasts, touching her with carnal reverence.
Hugh was at her side, kissing his way down her neck. He and Gideon caressed her breasts, pulling down the neckline of her gown so that fingers reached her bared nipples and pinched them into taut, aching points. Between her legs, she was slick and hot.
Her gown was suddenly removed, and she was nude, perched at the end of the dining table. She fluttered her eyes open. The men were stripping, too, removing their clothing hastily so that shirts and breeches were flung away without concern as to where they might land.
Five men gazed at her, all as naked as she. They were beautiful in their different forms, long and lean, thick and burly. Their cocks were heavy and hard, arcing up towards their bellies, and these, too, came in sundry shapes. Long, wide, curved, flared.
Almost all of the men’s bodies bore scars of some kind, raised ridges or circles of flesh, indicating that they’d been grievously hurt at some point in their lives.
Her heart ached. After the world had been so brutal to them, and they had faced all manner of wounds and losses, they trusted her with themselves.
Even before they had marked her, they belonged to her.
She opened her arms to them.
They surrounded her, then. Gideon stood between her legs, while Hugh and Des stood on one side, and Bram and Liam were on the other.
Their lips and hands were on her bare flesh, her mouth, her neck, her back, even her thighs and calves.
There was no part of her that didn’t receive their ministrations, rousing her skin with heat and touch.