Immortal Wolf. Bonnie Vanak
tempered with compassion and spiritual purity. A Kallan did not relish dispatching his own people. He saw his role as a guide to the Other Realm, who prepared them for crossing over. Those transitions, even if they committed crimes against their own kind, were treated with dignity and compassion.
He had never dispatched a female before. Raphael hoped he’d have the strength and emotional detachment to execute the cursed Draicon.
Two of his brothers shouted a hearty hello. He was crossing the distance between them when a voice spoke in his head.
Amant? Are you there?
The whisper made him halt. It was her, the one he revered above all others. Raphael held up a hand in greeting to his brothers. He retreated to a solitary table.
Erin. I’m here, he reassured her.
Her voice sounded shaky, as if she tried disguising her fear. But something deeply worried her.
I thought I’d lost you. You haven’t spoken to me since yesterday.
Hush, little one, he soothed. I’m right here, as I have been. What troubles you, chere?
I just missed you, that’s all.
I missed you, too, he admitted, pulling out a chair and propping one booted foot upon it.
One month ago, he had been preparing crayfish for the family barbecue when he’d heard her. His draicara seeking him out. Raphael had gone still at the sweet purity of her voice, the low melodic tones. He’d felt bathed in serenity and yet sharpened by sexual need.
It was the most erotic thing he’d ever experienced, and yet she’d spoken but one sentence.
Since then, they’d talked nearly each day. He wisely did not press her and allowed her to seek him out. He’d called himself the nickname bestowed on him by his brothers—Amant, the French word for “lover.” He didn’t want to frighten her or have her overcome with awe at the legendary Raphael, the most feared and respected Draicon.
Where are you now? What are you doing? Erin asked.
In a bar. Talking to you.
He leaned forward, placing both feet on the floor. What’s wrong, Erin? You sound sad. Are you alone?
A tiny sigh went through him like an arrow. Where I am, I am always alone.
Where was her pack? Her Alpha?
I must go. It isn’t safe here. I have to go someplace safe.
He picked up her anxiety, like little hairs brushing against the nape of his neck. Raphael frowned, wishing he could see her. Your people—are they near? Do you feel threatened?
It’s just some males from my pack walking nearby. I can’t let them see me.
His hackles rose at the suggestion of someone daring to touch his draicara. Automatically, he flexed his muscles, his protective instincts rising. If they try anything with you, they will pay.
Don’t worry. They won’t come near me.
They’d better not. You’re mine and mine alone, he couldn’t help rumbling.
She gave a light laugh, as sweet and airy as a songbird. I can take care of myself. Trust me. I have for a while now.
It’s my job to take care of you.
Her voice deepened. You’re so good to me, even if you aren’t here. I cherish our times together these past weeks. When can I see you?
Raphael blocked away thoughts of the task awaiting him. Soon. I have an assignment, then I will come to you.
Promise? Despair punctuated her voice. Troubled, he sent her waves of reassurance, soothing images of forest and glen, the deep quiet of the green woods. He felt her tension ease.
How I wish you could kiss me now. Kiss me and tell me all is well.
Her admission sent waves of erotic heat through him. He would kiss her, inch by sweet inch. His body tightened with need. He wondered what she looked like and wished she would allow him to see her reflection in a mirror.
I am eager for us to meet. I can’t wait to touch you, he admitted in a husky, sensual whisper.
No!
Her distress screamed in his mind. Raphael frowned and speculated. Even if she were a virgin and scared of her first time, such fear wasn’t normal.
Has someone hurt you? He didn’t mean to make his voice so sharp, and softened his tone. Tell me, so I may help you, chere.
I will be fine. Her wistfulness gave his heart a twist.
Let me help you. I’m your dracairon. It’s my duty to care for you, and see to all your needs, be they large or small.
You sound as if I’m an invalid who needs assistance getting out of bed, came the tart reply.
Raphael gave a small, amused laugh. It might come to that. He blocked the thought from her of the sexy image of Erin lying languid and flushed in bed, dazed by the pleasure he’d given her. Of course not. But I am your mate, and it grieves me to know you are in such distress. Tell me what you need.
You. She went silent a few heartbeats and added, Do you want me?
Her deep, sultry voice sent lust spiraling through him. Raphael gripped the chair’s armrests. Want her? You have no idea how badly I want you. Mentally he sent her an image of an enormous bed, two bodies tangled together between rumbled silk sheets. All that and much more, he said softly.
Oh! Oh. I didn’t realize, I’ve never…um…
Silent delight filled him at her charming, blushing innocence. Don’t worry, chere. It’s your first time, and I will be gentle. You have nothing to fear from me.
I’m not afraid of you. I could never be afraid of you.
Satisfaction poured through him. He would cherish her and be mindful of her innocence at their first joining. The ecstasy he’d deliver would erase any pain of taking her virginity. Raphael licked his lips, envisioning parting her soft thighs with his hands, lowering his mouth to her core and flicking his tongue…
There?! Shock vibrated through her voice. Raphael laughed softly.
There, and many other places. Trust me, you will enjoy it.
I wish I could touch you.
The absolute sorrow in her voice gave him pause. His heart twisted. Soon, he promised.
Out of the corner of his eye he spotted two men strutting toward him. Both solid as linebackers. Deep frowns scored their faces. One sported a knife scar across his cheek. Trouble. At the bar, his oldest brother, Etienne, shot him a questioning look. Need help?
Raphael shook his head. Erin, pardon me for a moment, he told his draicara. He stood, stretching out to his full six feet, four inches.
“Gentlemen,” he offered.
“You’re the ugly bastard who screwed around with my woman last month,” Big and Scarred announced.
“Your ex,” he countered.
“We was gonna make up,” Scarred said. Glass shattered as he brought his beer bottle down on the table. He held the jagged edge out.
“I doubt it, judging from the bruises you left.” Raphael narrowed his eyes. “Women should be treated with courtesy and respect. All women. You need manners.” He felt power rising in him, the itch to slam this bastard into place.
“And you’re an ugly mongrel dog,” Scarred’s friend chimed in.
Violent anger rolled through him. He masked it. “Never call me a mongrel,” he said pleasantly.
Raphael coldcocked one with a fist and sent the other toppling to the floor with a bare shove. Beer splashed over the table as bottles toppled downward. His reflexes were so fast they’d had no time to blink.