She
managed to make a small sound of distress when she was eased away from the pot,
but still held in a sitting position. Could the bite of a wolf have done so
much damage? Was she in a hospital? Did they have hospitals in Corsova?
The
questions flew from her mind when someone pressed their palm to her mouth. She
recognized Demi’s scent from spending the night with him. The edges of her
mouth turned down in a feeble frown when she felt something warm and sticky
flow onto her lips.
“Drink,”
he said. His hand didn’t move.
As
Anca’s tongue slipped through her teeth, she tried to draw it back in. He
didn’t really want her to drink blood, did he? His blood, specifically. What
kind of quackery did the doctors here use? She tried to protest, but instead,
licked the blood from his wound.
She
craved more. Instinct seemed to take over, and she was soon sucking from his
hand, drawing in the blood as fast as it flowed, making impatient sounds when
it slowed to a trickle.
“That’s
enough,” Ylenia said.
Anca
whimpered when he withdrew his hand and eased her back onto the bed. Once
again, lethargy swept through her, and she struggled against her eyelids’
compulsion to close. She wanted to demand answers for what was happening to
her, but was too weak. Even now, she wondered how she had found the strength to
do what they had asked.
To
drink his blood
, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her mind. Rather
than repulse her, the thought caused her to tremble with excitement, and she
longed for more. It was a blessing when her eyes closed, and she was able to
escape the reality of enjoying consuming his blood.
* * * * *
Demi
paced to the window and gazed up at the moon before turning and making another
circuit around Anca’s bed. He paused briefly to touch her leg, and he winced at
the heat. Something more intense than a fever ravaged her body, and he felt
helpless, knowing he could do nothing to help her.
Ylenia
had gone to bed to snatch a few hours of sleep, leaving Demi to monitor her. He
had wanted to protest her leaving, but he knew if Ylenia couldn’t stop the
transformation, she couldn’t help Anca if her body tried to reject the process.
He could only hope his lifemate was strong enough to endure the change.
If
someone survived the first transformation after a bite from a werewolf, his or
her body was able to handle the change. If Anca had been raised in the old
ways, he would have had little fear of her not surviving her first
transformation.
However,
since she had lived as a human all her life, he knew she was more vulnerable
and in greater risk of dying. Humans were frail, and half of them were
incapable of withstanding the change. Since she was weakened by Nikia’s bite
that hadn’t fully healed, her body was more likely to reject the transformation
and cause her to die.
His
hands balled into fists as he imagined the pleasure of fastening his hands
around Nikia’s throat. He was glad of the guards keeping her locked in her
room, for they kept him out. At that moment, he could imagine no greater
pleasure than killing her, but he fought the urge. He refused to betray his
king, and to violate Valdemeer’s orders not to harm Nikia would be to turn his
back on Valdemeer, Corsova, and his role in its future.
How
could the old man be so blind?
He
tried to squash the disloyal thought, knowing Valdemeer’s conflicting emotions
of guilt and hatred for his daughter made it impossible for him to deal with
her without bias.
His
attention turned from thoughts of Nikia to Anca as a thin wail issued from her.
She had kicked off the blankets, and a sheen of sweat covered her nude body. He
couldn’t help a twinge of arousal at the sight of her beauty, but he didn’t
allow it to interfere with tending to her.
He
knelt by the bed and touched her forehead. Her skin burned to the touch. As he
stroked her cheek, he felt fur bristling through her skin. The transformation
had begun. She made another sound low in her throat, and it emerged as an
aborted howl.
He
held her hand as dark-brown fur grew over her body. When her hand began to take
the shape of a paw, he moved away and shed his own clothes. He waited until she
was screaming and writhing with pain, as she became a medium-sized wolf, before
he approached the bed again.
She
was breathing heavily, and her tongue lolled out of her mouth, but her brown
eyes were alert and questioning. He kept eye contact as he transformed to
wolf-form. He saw her pupils dilate with shock. She shook her head, and then
froze, seeming to realize she wasn’t in human-form.
It’s
okay
, he said to her, using his mind. He wondered if she would be able to
communicate with him at all, since her mental powers were stunted from years of
living as a human.
She
blinked, and her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t respond.
Come
with me.
After a
brief hesitation, she got on all fours and stepped down carefully from the bed.
She shook, and her fur rustled. She cocked her head to examine her body.
You’ll
adjust to the form soon. In fact, it can be quite liberating to run full-tilt
through the forest without any concern, except catching your next meal.
He
felt a glimmer of a thought come from her, but she couldn’t make it take form.
Concentrate
on what you want to tell me. My blood flows through your veins, giving you the
strength to communicate. More than that, we have joined. You can speak to me
more easily than you can to any other. It will happen naturally, if you let it.
Her
gaze locked with his, and she seemed to be concentrating. After several
seconds, the thoughts became clear.
What’s
happening?
Nikia’s
bite changed you.
Changed?
How?
Corsova
is a haven for many who would not fit in with humans. One of the bonds our
people have formed over the centuries is with werewolves. Our blood gives them
prolonged life, and consuming their blood just once allows us to transform into
a wolf for the rest of our lives. Most of our people undergo the ritual in
their early teens, as our bodies are more adaptable then.
Her
tail drooped, and her ears dropped flat against her skull. Her eyes appeared
glazed, and she seemed to be having difficulty absorbing what he was telling
her. The question she asked next surprised him.
I thought there had to be a
full moon.
She
was definitely overwhelmed, he decided, to ask about something so
inconsequential at that moment.
Let’s
walk
, he suggested. Once she fell in step beside him, he attempted to
explain the transformation
. Changing into a wolf isn’t dependent on the time
of the month or phase of the moon. As you gain control of the ability, you’ll
be able to transform at will. It’s only the first few months that the
transformation can be unpredictable. Once your body adapts—and it evidently
will, since you survived the initial change—you’ll be able to slip in and out
of wolf-form with ease.
You’re
insane.
A pause followed, and they padded out of the castle in silence.
People
don’t become wolves.
Demi’s
chuckle emerged as a throaty mewl.
Our people do. Come, let’s run. Your
shoulder has healed nicely from my blood and the transformation. You can keep
up with me.
He
broke into a run, glancing behind him to make sure she accompanied him. In her
current emotional state, it seemed prudent to distract her from her worries and
burdens. He hoped she would become caught up in the freedom of the run and
temporarily forget her questions about what had happened.
But if
she didn’t run with him, he wouldn’t leave her alone. He didn’t know if she was
likely to attempt something drastic if left to her own devices. He had heard of
only a few instances where someone was changed without their consent, and the
process usually drove them mad. They ended up as a danger to themselves or
others.
She
hesitated before finally breaking into a run. When she reached his side, Demi
increased his pace, and she matched it. Soon, they were sprinting through the
fields and forest. He was trying to outrun his rage with Nikia, and she was
trying to outrun her thoughts.
* * * * *
Later,
long after she had lost track of time, they stopped running. Anca panted
heavily, disconcerted by the sensation of her tongue flopping against the
outside of her mouth. Every muscle in her body ached, but it was the delicious
tingle of exertion, not the pain she had previously experienced from Nikia’s
bite.
Her
vision was sharper than she had ever imagined it could be. She could see an owl
perched in a tree as clearly as if it was daylight, and she was able to make
out the speckles on its wings and the tiny feathers on its neck.
She
could smell everything so vividly that the sense had acquired texture. She
could feel the odor of the flowers carried by the breeze, touch the trace of
deer droppings wafting to her, and reach out for Demi, whose sexual arousal
made her nose twitch.
It
matched her own. She wondered how she could ache to have his cock inside her
while the terrible weight of the surreal night’s events flooded her mind. At
that moment, she had a more urgent desire for Demi than she did for a logical
explanation of why she was running through the forest in a wolf’s body.
Surely,
it was all a dream. She cast her eyes to the side to view Demi, who had
sprawled on the ground. His sides heaved with exhaustion, and his tongue lolled
out of his mouth. He looked like nothing more than a big, cuddly dog.
If she
had ever given it much thought, she would have supposed the way one thinks
changed when they became a werewolf, but she was discovering it didn’t. She was
still herself, and each of her thoughts was her own. She wasn’t driven by a
wild, aimless desire to couple and hunt. Her passion ran deeper than that,
motivated by memories of how tender he had been with her the night before. She
wanted to feel that again.
She
laid down gingerly, not yet accustomed to the change in her anatomy. She
misjudged where she planned to land and ended up scooting toward Demi on her
belly. The submissiveness in the gesture wasn’t lost on her, but she found it
sexy, not demeaning. Demi was very much the quintessential Alpha male right
now.
When
she was lying beside him, Anca nudged his head with her nose, wondering if she
was showing him affection or amusing him. A brief image of her doing such
things in her human form made her want to simultaneously giggle and cringe with
embarrassment.
He put
his paw on hers and rubbed his muzzle against hers. His head dipped lower, and
he nudged the pendant still hanging around her neck.
She
was so used to it that she hadn’t realized she had been wearing it when she
transformed. It hung low on her chest, and she was suddenly terrified of losing
it.
Demi
rolled against her, nipping her lightly on the shoulder. Anca responded by
swiping her paw against his side. He made a low sound, somewhere between a
growl and a purr, and lifted his head to lick her ear.
She
shivered at the sensation, finding it as delightful as she did in her human
form. She ached with desire, and her inability to make love with him frustrated
her.
We
can make love,
he contradicted.
She
eyed him skeptically.
How?
We
can mate in our wolf-form—
No!
Something
that sounded like a chuckle gurgled from his throat.
I was going to say, we
could do that, but I’ve never tried it. I was going to suggest we change back.
I
thought I was stuck like this until sunrise.
No.
Concentrate on changing and you will.
She
closed her eyes, straining to regain her human form. She felt a shift in her
body, but when she opened her eyes, she was still covered with fur, though her
muzzle had disappeared.
Sexy,
he teased as he transformed. “Half-woman and half-wolf. Interesting.”
She
glowered at him, though she didn’t know if her current configuration of
features allowed him to get the full impact of her angry expression. “It’s
hard,” she said, and she jumped with surprise at the growl lacing her tone.
He
nodded. “Focus. Picture your body changing back. Imagine each cell forming its
original shape.”
She
closed her eyes and allowed him to talk her through the transformation. In a
couple of minutes, she was back to being Anca—wearing only the ruby pendant and
crouched on a bed of soft grass and rose bay. “This is the most vivid dream
I’ve ever had,” she whispered. “It must be that dram Ylenia made me drink—if
that wasn’t part of the dream.”
He
quirked a brow. “So, this is all a dream?” He spread out his hands to encompass
the forest around them.
“Absolutely,”
she said with conviction,
needing
to believe it was. “It can’t possibly
be anything else.”
He
remained silent—further proof it was a dream, surely.
She
reached out for him. “I’m hungry, Demi.”
“I
could catch something—“
“For
you.” She raked her eyes over his bare chest. “What I’m dreaming about us doing
is preferable to what I’m no doubt really doing.”
“What’s
that?”
“I’m
burning up with fever and thrashing in bed. You’re probably there to soothe me,
which is how you crept into my dreams.” She leaned closer, until her lips
nearly brushed his. “It’s no mystery why I’m dreaming I’m a werewolf. Being
bitten by a wolf has obviously influenced my subconscious.” Her brow furrowed.
“Though I do wonder why I’ve cast Nikia as the villain in this little
melodrama.”