After the Moon Rises (17 page)

Dressed in another pair of baby blue scrubs with little blue hospital slippers stained with mud on his feet, he nonetheless oozed masculine strength. Despite the situation, she felt warmth flow to her core.

Damn mating hormones.

Despite the hormones, not because of them, she wanted Zane with a passion she never thought she’d have for anyone. And he felt the same way about her. Tonight they would join their bodies and souls for eternity, forming a bond that would never die.

Right after they took care of passing judgment on Sid’s enforcers.

Zane put a hand on her shoulder, nodding once. Thankfully Sid’s energy blast did not cause permanent injuries to her mate. Under the scrubs, scratches marred his skin, overlaying bruises, and his gunshot wound—what little remained of it—had reopened. At least that injury was small enough to need only a bandage, not another line of stitches. Another day or so and he’d be good as new.

You can’t stand out here forever.
Zane whispered in her mind.

I can try.

Putting off the inevitable made her look weak when she was anything but. Margie shut her eyes, dragged breath into her lungs through her tortured throat, shook her shoulders and exhaled. She nodded to Jace to open the door.

Big G and Jace walked in first carrying lanterns, shook off droplets of water, and stood on either side of the door, two guardians allowing Margie and Zane to walk between them. Bill and Ron, two of her enforcers, stood outside in the rain. Sid’s enforcers huddled along the back wall, eyes blinking in the sudden light.

“I’m Margie McLean, the pack leader of London.” Her voice cracked and she cleared it. Not like it helped. “I regret to inform you that you will be tried for threatening my pack and the attempted kidnapping of one of my pack members. How do you plead?”

Their pleas should be interesting. After listening to Zane’s suggestion and the elders, she knew what to do. Provided they answered her correctly.

One of the three crawled forward, sitting back on his knees when he reached her, tilting his head to the side to offer her his neck. “I am guilty, but only because I was forced to do Sid’s bidding. That does not excuse my actions. Do with me as you will. But if you would grant me a final request, please tell me why Zane is standing there.”

“Zane is my mate. He stands with me. This is his pack too.”

Three heads snapped toward Zane, identical wide-eyed looks of shock written across their faces.

“Any other pleas?”

Their gazes shot back to hers before dropping like good little submissives. Although calling what should be three alphas submissive seemed an oxymoron. Rather like a vegetarian werewolf.

Zane only told her one of the enforcers appeared to agree with Sid, while the others hated him. And then he refused to tell her which was which, wanting her to have an unbiased opinion on the matter. She assumed Mark was one of the good guys, seeing how he occupied his own locked infirmary room instead of being thrown in the tack shed, but she had yet to speak to him. Looking into dirty, stunned faces, she had trouble deciding which of the three took Sid’s side.

A second enforcer went with the crawl and throat-offer routine, leaving one enforcer pressed against the back wall. His eyes narrowed on her, his gaze dropping as he walked to where she stood, stopping behind the kneeling enforcers.

“I’m not groveling like they are. I agree I’m guilty of what you accuse us of, but I’m not asking forgiveness. I did what I had to do, and I have no regrets. And if that means that you and Zane are going to kill me, then so be it. But I’m not apologizing.”

She’d be willing to bet good money this one was the one who followed Sid out of his heart, not because he had to. The way he met her gaze, the tension coursing through his body, and his hands clenching and releasing, gave clues he would resist death to the very end.

“Do you know how to weave magic? How to bend it to your will?”

“Are you fucking nuts? No offense.”

So much for the earlier submissive eye drop. This guy was about as submissive as an eighteen-wheeler going downhill in an ice storm.

“I take it that’s a no?”

“Damn straight that’s a no. No fucking way would I ever learn magic.”

“Good deal. Go stand against the wall.”

He backed up, his gaze never leaving hers. A worthy adversary.

Is he the one?
She asked Zane.

Does what we discussed with the elders still stand?

Yes.

You’re right. He’s the one. I don’t smell a lie on him, but that doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth.

And the others? Do you smell a lie on them?

Zane sniffed the air.
Nope. They’re telling the truth. They’re good males.

“Bill, Ron, escort these two away from here.” Margie gestured to the two at her feet. Water dripped off their hats as Bill and Ron led them away to her office to wait for their punishments.

“I’m afraid I didn’t get your name?” Margie took a step closer to the remaining enforcer.

“Christopher Maas.”

“Okay, Christopher.”

“It’s Chris.”

“Chris then. Your punishment is banishment. You will leave tomorrow morning and will not return. If we ever meet and you cross me again, I will kill you.” Margie held out her hand, forming a small ball of fire that cast flickering shadows on the wooden walls of the shed. Chris’s eyes popped wide as he tried to take a step backward, only to hit the wall. “Don’t underestimate me. Don’t see your expulsion as my weakness. Do you understand?”

His tongue darted out, licking his lips as he nodded. “I understand, alpha.” His gaze dropped to the floor.

Margie closed her fist, extinguishing the flame. “Good. My enforcers will bring you a cot, food and drink. It’s quite the storm out there, but it should be dry in here. Do you need your injuries tended to?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“Then we’ll leave you.”

Zane stepped out the door first, popping open the umbrella for her. What a gent.

“Big G, Jace. I want a guard on the door until he’s released tomorrow. Rotate shifts of two hours each.”

“Understood. Have a good evening, Margie. And you,” Big G pointed a tattooed finger at Zane, “take care of her.”

“You know I will.”

Talk about protective. Until Zane showed up, she never realized how much like a momma bear Big G acted. It gave an alpha female the warm fuzzies, it did.

But not anywhere close to the warm fuzzies Zane gave her. Who was she kidding? What she felt around Zane was nothing like what she felt at Big G’s words. Nope. Zane warmed her from the inside out, heated her core to boiling and made her want to throw him down in the mud and sex him up until they both fell over exhausted.

One round of sweaty, mind-blowing sex coming up.

Right after they informed Mark and the other two enforcers of their punishments.

How fast could she walk to her office? And the answer? Pretty darn fast. Mud splashed on her jeans, covering her boots. Sideways blowing rain splattered against her raincoat, drenching her legs through the denim. So much for the umbrella. It blew inside out, a skeleton of metal ribs and cloth wings. Right as a crash of thunder sounded, they made it to the back porch of the ranch house. Zane dropped the broken umbrella on the porch.

Once inside, Margie stripped off her raincoat and hat, hanging them on the coat tree by the door. Office, more judging, and then for dessert, what she knew would be the best part of the meal—sex with Zane. Her boots clicked a frantic beat against the wood floor, followed by Zane’s blue muddy slippers squishing out a melody.

Bill and Ron stood outside her office, the door open. The two former enforcers sat in leather chairs in front of her desk, talking in hushed tones. White stuffing stuck up in globs from the back of the left chair. What would they think of her housekeeping staff? She gave herself a mental shake. Why did she care? She was here to judge them for attacking her pack, not take their opinions on interior decorating.

All whispering stopped the minute she walked through the door, drying up like a stream in a desert.

“I’m afraid I didn’t catch your names?” When would her voice stop sounding like a choking frog?

“Paul.”

“John.”

“Paul and John. As your punishment for attacking my pack, you will be indebted to us. Because you were forced to follow Sid, your lives are spared. For a period of two months, you will be our servants, the lowest members in the pack. At the end of that time, you will be allowed to join our pack if you want. Do you understand?”

Two identical bobbles marked her words.

“Good. What is your decision?”

The nodding twin bobbles glanced to each other, then back to her. Wasn’t she polite not to eavesdrop on their silent conversation?

“We’ll stay.”

“Good choice. Bill and Ron will escort you to your rooms in the infirmary where you’ll be under lock and key.”

A couple of minutes later she and Zane stood alone in the office. Alone. Together. A predatory smile lit his face as he backed to the door and shut it, the lock sliding home with a resounding thud. So much for talking to Mark about his judgment. Not like she was complaining.

She grew wet as Zane stalked toward her, a wolf on the hunt for his prey.

“It’s just us. No going back.” His voice, deep and rough around the edges, caressed all the nerve endings in her body.

“I know. You ready?”

“Babe, I was born ready.”

Margie shook her head. “That’s just wrong.”

He grinned as he pulled the scrub top over his head, dropping it on the floor. Muscles rippled with the movement, the bunching of his biceps enticing her. Springy dark curls peppered his chest, leading in a line over a sexy six-pack and disappearing below his scrub bottoms. Talk about being built. And all that strength and power was heading her way. Did she actually lick her lips like a starving dog?

“Do you like what you see?” Zane’s dark hair framed his face as he took another step closer, untying the string that held the scrub pants around his waist.

“I’m enjoying the view. What can I say?” Boy, that was the understatement of the month. She wanted him like dried earth wanted quenching rain. Now and hard.

“I say I’d like to enjoy the view too.” His eyebrows waggled in a suggestive way.

Oh, yeah. She might want to hop onboard the undressed-and-ready-to-go-train before it left the station. And while it would only take the work of a moment to undress, she wanted to see the drawn out pleasure in Zane’s eyes as she slowly slid her clothes off. Death by stripping. What a way to go.

Inch by inch she pulled her shirt up, watching his eyes as the cloth skimmed over the skin of her stomach, passed over her breasts. She yanked it over her head and dropped it on the floor. His gaze fastened on her chest, heating her nipples into hard points that throbbed for his touch. Running her hands from her waist up over her ribs, she cupped her breasts, pushing them up against the silk cups of her bra.

“Do you like what you see?”

Nice to know she wasn’t the only one pulling the lip licking routine.

“Oh, yeah.” He let the scrub bottoms drop to the ground and toed off his muddy slippers.

Wow. What a package. And yep, there she went with the lip licking again.

Zane stepped closer to her, one hand reaching out to touch her face. “You’re beautiful, my little wolf.”

His lips lowered to hers, firm and warm. Her hands wrapped around his neck, holding him against her. The hard length of him pressed against her lower stomach as his tongue tangled with hers.

The kiss consumed her, igniting a fire deep within her. Day-um, but the male could kiss. Even her toes curled inside her boots. And she was way overdressed for the occasion.

Good thing Zane was on top of that little problem. His fingers had the button unfastened and her zipper down before her hands even joined the jeans-removal party. She helped him push them over her hips, removing her panties with the same shove, all the while maintaining lip contact. The whole damn ranch could catch fire and she’d still want to kiss him, to feel the press of his lips against hers, the rush of having his tongue touch hers. No other male had ever made her feel this good, made sparks of fire fill her veins to overflowing.

Foreplay might be wonderful, but she wanted him in her now. Wanted to feel the rasp of his skin against hers as he thrust into her wet core, wanted his essence to fill her.

Bang, bang, bang.
Margie started, her movement breaking apart their kiss. The door shook from the force of some idiot’s fists, bouncing in its frame like hail on parched ground.

“Who is that?” Zane whispered, his lips closing on her ear with a movement that must be illegal it felt so good.

“Mmm. Who is what?”

Bang, bang, bang.
Oh. That. The idiot at the door.

“What?” She snapped. And what do you know? Sexual frustration fixed a raspy voice.

“Um, you wanted dinner brought?”

Yeah, okay, but that was before she realized there were other much better things to do with their mouths than chew and swallow.

“Just leave it outside the door and don’t disturb us again.”

“Oh. I’m really sorry, alpha.” Dishes rattled as a tray was placed on the floor. “I’ll go now.”

Killing the hapless wolf wasn’t nice, not to mention it would leave the ranch without its cook, so she swallowed the impulse.

“Sorry about that.”

“Let’s hope they don’t come back.” Zane’s hands ran up her sides, fingers fastening onto her bra strap. Using a flick and a twist, he popped the hooks free. Margie slid the straps down her arms, letting the bra drop to the floor.

Now that was more like it. Flesh against flesh.

She lifted her lips for his kiss while his hands stroked from her back to her breasts, thumbs flicking over her nipples. Her hands moved across his stomach, brushing against his shaft, which jerked at the contact. Holding the thick width, she circled the plum shaped head with a finger, swallowing Zane’s moan in her mouth. He took a step forward, clearly trying to head them in the direction of her desk. Being on board with that plan, she took a step back, or tried to. Her feet, still encased in boots covered with a layer of muddy jeans, stayed put. Zane’s arm grabbed her, but the fall cost her the touch of his lips.