Howl (Lost Moon: Unravelling Monsters Universe #2)

Chapter 17

17

WEST

I f I ever had any doubts about Bronte’s abilities to accurately see the future, her stunned reaction when she steps into the master bedroom — one of the final stops on her tour of the house — puts them to rest. She turns in a circle slowly, face slack, eyes searching, stopping as she stares at a spot in the doorway.

“Have you been here before?” I ask, rolling my shoulders as if that will displace the sudden sensation of something crawling down my spine.

“Lacey was right there ,” she points, her whispered voice breaking as she blinks back tears. “This is the room, West! I was here just hours ago.”

“Come here.”

She steps into my open arms with a small sob, squeezing me tight, her fingers digging into the muscles on my back. “I promise I’m not sad,” she sniffles, her voice muffled against my shirt. “Just emotional. And it’s so wonderful to see them, and then I miss them so much even though I’ve only known them for a few minutes. My wolf doesn’t lie. The instant I saw our children, I loved them. West, they’re my babies. ”

“I know,” I say, staring at the doorway, the future on my mind.

“I really do love this place,” Bronte says quietly as she stands at the window in nothing but her lace thong. I’m already relaxing in bed, enjoying the view of my wife currently bathed in moonlight; the curve of her hips and ass, the dip of the small of her back, the shape of her breast in profile as she stretches her arms above her head, yawning. She’s so beautiful, so sexy, and I grab my hard cock, pulling back the foreskin, touching myself slowly as I continue to watch her. I’m counting down the days until the moon will be full; its nearness is already making me horny as fuck, though it’s not hard to be that way around Bronte. It doesn’t matter how many times we have sex, I still want more; more of her mouth, of her hands, of her sweet pussy.

In the hours before that full moon rises I’m going to fuck my mate and I’m going to bite , claiming her and forging a permanent mental bond between us.

She’s going to bite me back.

Before Bronte I never wanted anything like this. I didn’t want to share my life with someone, never wanted them living in my space, sleeping in my bed, giving their opinion on the things I do. I certainly never wanted to have a bond with a mate — I told myself I already had enough other wolves in my head, pushed to the back of my mind, the pack bonds kept locked away for the vast majority of the time so that I don’t lose my mind.

Now I’m desperate to be bound to Bronte. I’m jealous of her and myself — my future self — and the moments she’s felt where that bond exists. I want her by my side, always. I’m going to struggle when the time comes that I actually have to go into the office and do my job. I don’t know how the fuck I’m going to concentrate now that she’s come along and taken over every corner of my mind.

I didn’t think I could love someone like this; I didn’t think I was capable of it. She is so perfect, and I don’t know why fate has placed her here with me of all people, but I’m never letting her go, never taking her for granted.

I try to have faith in the fact that she’s glimpsed our future multiple times, but I’m no fool. We’ve been focused on finding this damn stone — and I’m pissed off that Anita is apparently involved — but it’s what happens after we’ve retrieved it that I’m most concerned with. I’m not sure if she truly wants to be the High Witch one day, but what I do know is that the current High Witch of House Maheras doesn’t like shifters. She may have invited a delegation of my kind there twenty years ago — why, I don’t know — but officially, the borders of Maheras territory have been closed to shifters for centuries. I’ve visited shifters still living in the First, old ties to our pack, and they’ve never had anything good to say about the Maheras weres.

I’ve had weres sneer at me and I’ve snarled back, and so I am afraid for my perfect mate and her sweet heart, and what being with me may mean for her. I don’t want to ruin her opportunities, I don’t want to get in the way of the future she’s supposed to have — if she wants it — but I’m not giving her up. Not for anything.

She’s happy here. I can tell in the way she looks at the world here with wide-eyed wonder. She’s fascinated by humans and their culture, but I worry that at some point the novelty will wear off. What will it be like for her once eating McDonald’s is not some treat she’s always wondered about, or once she’d had her opportunity to visit a diner, or ride a rollercoaster, or do one of the other hundred things she’s told me she wants to experience? What will she do when blatant sexism slaps her — her , the woman in line to the throne of the largest matriarchal society in both realms — in the face? Am I going to be enough for her here? Is she going to be happy when she has to play human day in and day out?

She’s still staring out the window, hand pressed to the glass now, peering out into the distance. While the front of the house overlooks San Francisco Bay in the distance, this master bedroom is south facing to better capture both the sunlight and moonlight, and looks out onto the back three quarters of the property — the Tuscan-inspired pool and garden area that Bronte happily exclaimed reminded her of her Lykia, and the vast expanse of woods that stretches for acres over rolling hills. “I’ve purchased the adjacent lots so that we don’t ever have to worry about neighbours,” I tell her. “There’s enough space here to shift and run in peace. No human will ever know.”

“It’s wonderful.” There’s a dreamy note to her voice, and I can guess why.

“Thinking about the pups again?”

She nods, glancing at me over her shoulder for a moment before her gaze is drawn to the view once more. “They’re going to have two wolves. They’ll shift and change under the full moon. I can’t imagine what that’s like, but a place like this will be so good for them.”

“They’re lucky that they’re going to have a mother who can take them out of glamour so often.”

“I wish you could meet them.”

That she’s already met our children is the strangest concept, and one that I still struggle to fully comprehend. “I will, in time,” I tell her. “I just have to get you pregnant first.”

She grins, humming in amusement, and I pat the space beside me on the bed. “Come here.”

“Always so bossy,” she mutters, climbing over me to get to the side of the mattress that she’s already claimed as hers. The way she tucks herself against me, her head on my shoulder, is so natural that it’s as if we’ve been doing this for years. I don’t understand how I ever lived without her when she is now the best part of every moment in every day.

I wish we could stay here like this forever, carefree, lounging around, with nothing hanging over our heads. Instead we both know there’s a confrontation on the horizon, the words “ give them hell, ” from the future version of myself indicating that there’s going to be a fight when it comes to retrieving the stone.

Part of me doesn’t even want to take Bronte along, but I know that’s not possible — we need her portal magic — nor is it fair. My mate is strong, resourceful, and more powerful than I’ve had the opportunity to witness. She can take care of herself, even though I have the insane urge to protect her.

I don’t know what kind of stunt Anita is going to pull, but I have a feeling that it won’t be good.

“What’s wrong?”

Bronte is staring at me, her pupils large and shining, and I realise I’ve been grinding my teeth. “Nothing,” I say, forcing myself to relax my jaw. “I’m just contemplating the fact that the alpha that has been gathering allies for decades — the one that I trusted — wants me gone. I’m guessing that Anita is behind Victor setting that trap. She told me the stone was spotted in California and she ‘guessed’ that I’d head back to my pack territory in the redwoods.”

“Mmm. She led you in a very specific direction, away from the stone.”

“And set me up, through Victor.”

Bronte sighs, running the backs of her fingers down my arm and back again in a continuous loop. “I think it’s because of me. I’m sorry.”

I brush back her hair. “You’re worth it.” I hesitate, words stuck on the tip of my tongue. At the sight of the tears forming in her eyes, everything I’ve been thinking in the past day tumbles free. “You’re worth it all, and I’d give everything up to keep you. Even the pack. I need you to know that. You’re number one. You’re always going to be my number one.”

She leans forward, kissing me softly, her hand trailing down my stomach to wrap around my cock. I moan into her mouth, tasting the salt from her tears and beyond that just her , the woman I’ll never deserve and yet somehow managed to find.

Claim her.

I pull her tighter against me, wrapping my arms around her, my nose in her hair, my teeth aching with the need to bite as I thrust up into her hand. I didn’t intend to have sex with her tonight, not when she’s worn herself out with all the magic she’s used today, but when she makes that needy little noise in the back of her throat and tilts her face towards me once more it’s impossible to avoid the softness of her lips. “You’re too fucking tempting,” I murmur against her mouth a moment before she kisses me again, her long tongue curling against mine. I’m the luckiest man in this realm to not only have her, but to have her share her magic with me, a promise to be in my own true skin every night, to be able to knot my wife, to see her here in the dark as she climbs atop me, grinding against my cock through the flimsy fabric of her underwear as she does now.

I love seeing her like this, her lips parted, eyes shining in the moonlight. I love all the smooth lines of her body, the gentle curves and lean muscle of a she-wolf. Strength. That’s what she is. A fucking goddess. A queen. My witch.

What she’s doing — the slow roll of her hips, the way she cups her breasts, her eyes never leaving mine — is too good. “You’re gonna make me come,” I warn her, and she grins, readjusting herself so that she’s grinding against my swollen knot. “ Fuck ,” I swear, closing my eyes because this is the sweetest form of torture and my balls are aching from it. I could flip us, take over, dominate her the way I usually do, but I like this. I grab her hips because I can’t help myself, my fingers tugging at the lace she wears. “Fuck me,” I tell her. “Fuck me, sweetheart.”

She knows what I’m not saying. Somehow she always does, even after so little time, and I fucking love that about her. She pushes my hands away gently, taking control, hooking her own thumbs under the edge of her thong and tugging hard enough to tear through it like paper.

“Fuck yes, give me that pussy.”

She grins in response. “On your face?”

“ Yes. ” I’ve never been more certain of anything in my entire life. I lift her by the waist, groaning as she settles above me, smothering me with her dripping wet cunt. Who needs to breathe anyway? This is fucking glorious. I love her scent, I love her taste, I love the way she feels on my tongue.

She moans when I lick at her messily, and when I fuck my tongue into her she begins to grind in earnest. I grip her ass, pulling her harder against me, encouraging more even as my lungs begin to burn. I fucking love it, gripping my cock with one hand, squeezing my knot, fucking my fist. I pull in deep gasping breaths when she eases up for a moment, a small mercy before she rides me again, grinding faster now, until her thighs are tensing around me, crushing me, cunt pulsing against my lips, her cry the most perfect sound.

She lifts herself, peering down at me, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her heart beating fast in her chest. “Should I ride your dick, too?”

I nod wordlessly, breathing heavily. Yes please. Her laugh is soft and her face flushed as I lift her once more. Her hand is braced on my chest, another on my cock, guiding it within her. Wet fucking heat . It feels too good, and I grip her hips once more, taking control for a moment, pressing the head of my cock in, only to drag it out again, teasing myself and her in the process. She growls, her hands over mine as she sinks down onto me in one smooth motion, swallowing me whole until my knot kisses her cunt.

“I’m yours.” The words are out of my mouth before I can think about what I’m declaring, what I’m asking her to do. I want her in control. She’s an alpha in her own right; not a shifter, but a leader. I want to see it. I want to feel it, what it’s like to be under her. I take her hand, moving it to my neck, curling her fingers around my throat. Her mouth hangs open in a perfect ‘o’.

“Are you sure?”

My Adam’s apple moves against her palm as I swallow. I’ve never asked for anything like this. I’ve never wanted it. Until now. “Yes.”

She hesitates for a moment before leaning down to kiss me, and we moan together as she tastes herself on me. I shiver as she kisses along my jaw, down the side of my neck, her canines scraping my skin. “Do you trust me?” she whispers, nipping at my earlobe with her teeth.

“Yes.”

“Good. You feel so good, West. You’re so good to me. I’m going to make you come so hard.” She’s already rocking herself on me, her pussy so tight and wet and perfect, as she switches to her own language. It’s one reserved for witches in her coven, flowing like water from her lips, and my breath catches in my lungs as she touches her free hand to my wrist. A gold, transparent band of her magic forms where her fingers brush. A magic cuff. “Okay?” she asks, as the weight of the magic settles on me, the band comfortably tight. I nod, and with a wave of her fingers my arm is slowly lifted through the air until my wrist is pinned just above my head.

Holy fuck.

“You still okay?” She’s so beautiful, pupils luminous and round, twin moons, and I’d do anything for her. I nod silently, at a loss for words as she applies her magic to my other wrist, my arm moving in slow motion, lifted by her magic, until it’s locked in place above me. Her hand tightens around my throat experimentally before her grip loosens once more. “Good?”

“Good,” I rasp, my pulse thundering in my ears, my wolf oddly calm within me.

She leans down, kissing me once more, tucking her free arm under my neck as she clenches her pussy around my cock. I moan into her mouth. I’m going to come too soon if she keeps this up. She applies the slightest pressure on the sides of my neck, just enough to tease, and when she breaks our kiss her expression is so vulnerable. I know mine is the same.

I’ve never been submissive to anyone in my entire life.

She kisses me once more on the cheek, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she pulls back once more to look at me. “I love you,” she whispers. “So much.”

I turn my head, straining against the bonds to reach her lips, to kiss her passionately, to pour everything that I’m feeling into her.

“You’re so damn beautiful,” I whisper. “So perfect. I’m yours.” The word love is trapped somewhere between my lungs and my tongue, but I have to trust that she knows. I think she does.

“Oh Jesus fuck,” I say as she rises above me, a moment before her hand tightens around my neck. There’s no easing up now. Pressure, blood thundering, and the tightness of her cunt as she fucks me in earnest, the snarl on her face and the growl in her throat. She is the wolf goddess brought to life, consuming me, and for a moment I’m convinced she’ll bite.

She doesn’t, but she takes other things. She gives no mercy and when I’m certain I’ll pass out she lets go, the sudden rush of blood leaving me euphoric, a choked groan spilling from my lips as I spill into her, coming messily as she bounces on my cock, the magic around my wrists holding me in place. All I can do is watch her fuck herself on my cum-coated shaft, my unused knot red and swollen beneath her, her hand finding her clit.

She looks me in the eye as she comes, lips parted, teeth sharp as she sinks down on my cock one final time. It’s too late to knot her — I’m too swollen, or at least that’s what I think until she begins to rock her hips, her head tipped back, her fingers now playing with her breasts as she eases down slowly, slowly, the pressure of her tight cunt as it stretches around my knot too fucking good.

“ Fuck, ” we say in unison, my knot sliding into place within her. Her fingers are on her clit again and she comes once more, squirting across my abdomen with a stilted inhale. I’m coming too, giving her more than I thought possible, my hands suddenly free from their binds. I pull her down for a kiss, growling into her mouth, nipping at her lips, her neck, her shoulder.

Bite, my wolf urges, my teeth beginning to shift within my mouth, but I won’t do it until she asks. Not until she’s ready, I growl back at him, ignoring the clawing, snapping sensation within me.

My arms are around her, my nose buried in her hair. “I love you,” I murmur to her.

She hums in response, already half asleep.