her light, I offer you my body.”
Desire and something else, something more ethereal,
shimmered between them, warming the night. Warming
her. His rigid heat slid deep inside, until it felt as if he
was claiming every inch of her. He began to rock. It felt so
good, so right, a moan escaped her lips.
“Under the divine light of the moon,” he said, “I offer
you my heart.”
It felt like her own heart was snapping tight, ready to
shatter. “Under her light, I offer you mine.”
The sting in the air was becoming stronger. Sweat
skated across her skin. Pretense, she told herself fiercely.
Nothing more.
His grip on her rump grew stronger, holding her steady
as the tempo of his thrusts increased. “Under the divine
light, I offer you my soul.”
Deep down the tremors were beginning, spreading
through her body like a wave. She gripped his shoulders,
digging her nails into his flesh, fighting the sensations
rippling through her, fearing the burning in the air. Fearing
the fact she could not stop the words flowing from her
lips.
“By her light, I offer you mine.”
He was thrusting deep and hard. The world seemed to
be spinning, and every fiber of her being was tingling with
magic. Burning with the need for release.
“Then let our souls become one as our bodies have
become one.”
“Let the moon bless and rejoice in this union,” she
somehow gasped.
“Do you accept the gift of my seed?” he growled. “Do
you accept the promises of the night and the moon?”
“Yes,” she cried. “Yes.”
He went rigid against her, the force of his release
tearing her name from his throat. Heat seemed to explode
around them, through them, and her climax came in a
rush of power that stole her breath, stole all thought, and
swept her into a world that was sheer, unadulterated bliss.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. She rested
her forehead on his chest, desperately trying to catch her
breath, desperately hoping the ritual hadn’t worked. But
the air still hummed, her skin still tingled, and he was
still so very hard inside her.
After a while, he lifted her chin, his lips seeking hers,
his kiss a lingering taste of passion.
“What the moon has joined, let no wolf break.” He
brushed sweaty strands of hair from her forehead, then
kissed her again. Sweetly. Gently. But it wasn’t his kiss
that sent goose bumps fleeing across her skin. It was the
caring in his dark eyes. The gentle, almost loving smile
touching his lips. “May the moon bless this union and
grant us life.”
Energy seemed to flow through every pore of her being.
For one moment, it felt as if the moon itself was blessing
her. Blessing them. She fought the sting of more tears
and closed her eyes. Thankfully, the moon couldn’t bless
this union with life. Not when Duncan had been given the
fertility control injection.
“By the moon’s divine light, let us now celebrate this
union.” Though the words were the last in the ritual, they
were also what she wanted. All she wanted.
All they did, through the remainder of the long night.
By the end of which she truly knew what it felt like to be
loved by a man like Duncan.
But did she dare believe it?
***
A distant ringing stirred Duncan from slumber, but it
was a sound that stopped almost the minute he woke. He
swore softly and looked around. The morning’s light peeked
past the bedroom curtains, indicating dawn had come and
gone. He hadn’t meant to sleep so long. Hadn’t meant to
love Neva so long. Hadn’t meant to do a lot of things.
But he regretted none of them.
Especially not binding Neva to him heart and soul.
He smiled and splayed his fingers across her belly,
pressing her close against him. She was his, and there
was nothing on this Earth that could separate them now.
While it was supposed to have been nothing more than
pretense, the minute he’d said the first words of the ritual
and felt the stirrings of magic in the air, he’d known what
was happening. And there was no way in hell he’d been
about to stop—or let her stop. Neva was his, and the
ceremony ensured that, from this point on, she could no
more turn to another wolf than he could. It wasn’t playing
fair, wasn’t giving her the choice, but in all honesty, he
didn’t care. He’d spent more than half his life looking for
his soul mate, and now that he’d found her, he wasn’t
about to let her go. Wasn’t about to sit back and watch
her walk into the arms of what her family might consider
a “more suitable” mate.
Because he very much suspected that was what she
might do. Family was everything to a wolf, to Neva more
than most, and this break with her parents was killing
her. And while he was responsible for that, he had no
intention of walking away to mend the rift. And the
ceremony had given him the time he needed to convince
Neva and her parents, that his intentions and his feelings
were both honest and true.
The ringing started again, soft but insistent. It seemed
to be coming from downstairs...his cell phone, he realized.
It was still in the pants he’d discarded in the living room.
Neva stirred, and he brushed a kiss across her shoulder.
“Sleep,” he said, using the power of the moon binding
to make it an order. She’d probably fry his brains when
she woke and realized he was still using that hold on her,
but right now, he didn’t care. She needed the rest.
She murmured something that sounded suspiciously
like a curse, then drifted back to sleep. He kissed her
again, this time on her cheek, then climbed out of bed
and padded downstairs, finding his pants and pulling out
the phone. “Hello?”
“There’s been a fire at the hospital.”
His father’s voice was flat, devoid of any emotion, and
Duncan’s gut began to churn. “René?”
“Is missing. Kane was found unconscious but alive in
one of the stairwells. Looks like he’d been trying to stop
the kidnappers.”
“He’s okay?”
“Nothing more than a bruised ego, and a mighty bump
on the back of the head.”
“I gather it was Betise and Iyona?”
“Yes. Apparently Betise let him chase her into the
stairwell, where Iyona jumped him.”
Duncan took a deep breath and released it slowly.
“What about Savannah and the other patients?” Neva
would want to know her sister was okay, even though she
would surely have known if something bad had happened.
The link between the two of them was strong.
“They’re fine. The fire was in the basement, used merely
as a distraction.”
“You’re heading up a hunting party?”
“Tye’s on his way to join me and Kane. Savannah’s
given permission for us to be included in the official party.”
Probably because she knew they’d form a hunting
party of their own if she didn’t. “Do you intend to join
them?”
“Yes. If only because if I find those two alone, I might
be tempted to kill them. The Sinclair name has taken
enough of a beating these past few weeks. We don’t need
to add murder to our crimes.”
Duncan glanced around for his sweater. “I’ll be there
in five minutes.”
“We’re meeting over at the rangers’ office.”
“I’ll be there.”
He hung up and quickly dressed, then bounded up
the stairs. He knelt by the bed, kissing Neva’s lips gently,
feeling the stirrings of passion in the sleepiness of her
response.
“Sleep well, my love. I’ll be back soon.” He brushed
the hair from her eyes, kissed her nose, then left.
The phone rang again as he was walking towards Main
Street. He pressed the receiver and said, “Don’t tell me,
the location’s changed.”
“It certainly has.”
It wasn’t his father on the phone. It was Betise. His
knuckles went white with the force of his grip. “If you’ve
hurt him, bitch, you’re both dead.”
Betise tsked. “Such anger.”
“Just tell me what you want.”
“My mother is waiting in front of the hair salon for
you. I’m not sure where you are, but you have two minutes
to get there and get into the truck. We hear, see, or smell
the rangers anywhere near, and René is a dead man.”
“This is not going to achieve anything.”
“Promises were made. Tonight they will be fulfilled.”
The bitch was definitely crazy. He hit the “end” button,
then dialed his father’s number as he ran. “Betise just
called me,” he said, the minute his father answered. “She
wants me in front of her hair salon, alone, within two
minutes.”
Zeke swore. Duncan didn’t give his father the chance
to say anything else. “Follow the truck’s tracks,” he said.
“And don’t get near enough for them to see or smell you,
or René’s dead.”
He hung up, sped around the corner, and saw not one
waiting truck, but two. Out of the corner of his eye, he
caught movement, and something sharp plunged into his
arm. He swore and swung around, fist flying. Betise
laughed and danced out of the way. He glanced down. A
dart had been buried hilt deep into his forearm.
“Do you really think I’d trust you to sit back like a
good little wolf while we take you to René?” she taunted.
“I may be well-used flesh, Duncan, but I’m not stupid.”
He lunged for her. But it felt like he was moving
through glue, and his feet were extraordinarily heavy.
Betise laughed, capering just beyond his reach. The dart
must have been drugged. He cursed her and lunged again,
but suddenly found himself falling face first onto the
pavement. Then the darkness rushed in, accompanied by
harsh, almost maniacal laughter.
Fifteen
Neva woke to the nagging sensation that something
was wrong. Frowning, she lay still in bed, listening to the
silence haunting the cabin. Duncan wasn’t there. His smell
was little more than a lingering tease of wood on the air,
and there was no sound of footsteps or breathing. Maybe
he’d joined the hunt for Betise and Iyona.
She glanced toward the window. The light filtering past
the curtains was soft, almost muted, as if the day had
come and gone, and dusk was almost over. Surely she
couldn’t have slept that long.
Neva? Savannah’s thought was abrupt, and the feeling
of wrongness increased.
What’s happened? She swung out of bed, shivering a
little as the cool air caressed her skin, and padded
downstairs to find her clothes.
Plenty. Savannah’s mind voice was grim. There was a
fire at the hospital, which we’ve since discovered was little
more than a cover for René Sinclair being snatched. Duncan
then got a phone call stating he’d better meet Iyona in front
of Betise’s hair salon if he wanted to see his brother alive.
He wouldn’t have gone to such a meeting alone. Surely
he wasn’t that stupid.
He was given little choice and little time. But he did
call his father. By the time we got there, the trucks were
gone. We followed the tracks, but the damn snow came
down again, and we lost them.
Neva cursed the unseasonably late onslaught of snow,
though no doubt the skiers still lingering in Ripple Creek
were rejoicing. I’m coming to the hospital.
I’m not there.
What? Savannah—
I’m fine. I’m being careful. But I’m a ranger, and I’ll be
damned if I’ll lay on my back in bed while these bitches
run around killing and kidnapping people.
Neva moved across to the window and looked out. It
was no longer snowing, and the moon was rich and yellow
and almost full as it began its ascent in the darkening
sky. She stared at it for a moment, remembering Betise’s
words. Remembering her conviction, her certainty, that
she and Duncan were soul mates. She’s going to perform
the promising ritual.
What?
Betise believes she’s Duncan’s soul mate. She grabbed
her coat, swept a set of keys off the coffee table and ran
for the door.
Impossible, when you— Savannah’s thought cut off
abruptly. It doesn’t matter, does it?
No. It’s the night of promising. The magic can be raised
whether it’s your soul mate or not. God, how she wished
their pretense last night had been real. While she might
then have bound herself to a man who did not love her,
she’d rather that than Duncan being fettered to a
murdering fiend like Betise. Have you searched down
Heather Creek Road?
We did last night, after they’d attacked you, but we
found nothing. And the truck tracks didn’t head that way
tonight.
Well, that’s where they are. Why she was certain, she
couldn’t say. And if she was wrong, Duncan would pay.
Where are you?
Just coming out of Snowflake Lodge.
I’ll meet you on Main. Be there in five minutes.
Savanna was there in two, and she didn’t come alone.
There was a convoy of four trucks in all. Neva climbed
into the first one, relieved to see Ronan at the wheel. Her
gaze swung left to meet Savannah’s. The main bandage
had been removed from her sister’s face, but there were
still dressings on her right cheek and over her left eye.
“I’m a little surprised to see you in the back seat rather
than the driver’s.”
Her sister’s good eye twinkled brightly in the shadows.
“I may be stubborn, but I’m not a fool.” Her voice was dry.
“Besides, I can’t see well eno
ugh to drive just yet.”
“Mind you,” Ronan commented, a smile touching his
gray eyes as he glanced at Neva, “it took the threat of a
revolt to lose that foolhardiness she claims not to have.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Neva slammed the door
shut and buckled up her seat belt as Ronan took off. Lights
swept through the rear window, briefly setting Ronan’s
russet hair aflame as the trucks behind fell into line.
“Probably because doing stupid things runs in our
family,” Savannah replied.
Neva met her sister’s gaze. “That it does.” Things like
deciding to seduce the most dangerous man in the Sinclair
pack, or pretending to perform the promising ritual. One
had led her heart into danger, and the other had forced
her to confront what she’d been trying to ignore—the fact
that in a mere couple of days she’d fallen in love with
Duncan.
She pulled her gaze from Savannah’s and stared out
the window. “It doesn’t matter,” she said softly.
It does if you love him.
I love Mom and Dad, too. I won’t give up my family for
the sake of a man. No matter what I feel for him.
Savannah didn’t say anything. There was nothing she
could say, because they both knew the truth of the words.
Ronan turned the truck onto Heather Creek Road, and
they quickly left the lights of Ripple Creek behind them.
Under the cold light of the rising moon, the land became
a vast expanse of black and silver. It was stark, oddly
beautiful, but also eerie.
Neva stared out the window, her gaze roaming across
the lustrous landscape without really seeing any of it. They
were closing in. She wasn’t sure how she knew, but the
sensation was similar to what she shared with her sister.
It was as if somehow Duncan had become a part of her,
as if he was reaching out for her, not only psychically but
physically. She could feel him, not only in her mind, but
on her body. Almost as if he were caressing her, trailing
his fingers across her skin, sending little tingles of
electricity through every nerve ending. She was attuned
to him. Totally attuned. She briefly closed her eyes, too
afraid to confront the reason why that might be. Because
confronting it wouldn’t change the facts. Wouldn’t change
her parents’ opinion. Wouldn’t change her refusal to walk