Destiny Unchained (12 page)

She nodded. “But usually the orders come from the
sorcerers. The Amcott’s have had an alliance with the sorcerers for
as long as I can remember. Most of the werewolves I hunt have
defected from the sorcerer’s employment. Or in the case of the
Slayer, they want credit for having him killed. It makes them look
better I guess.” Supernatural politics made her want to strangle
people. She’d told Cristian the werewolves that worked for the
sorcerers had no self-respect. But, in a way, she worked for them
as well. It gave her some comfort to know they were terrified of
her. For the most part, they left her alone. Just the way she liked
it.

Cristian leaned in and narrowed his eyes. “You have
no problem hunting us down, do you, Natalia? You hate us anyway,
because of your mate.”

A twinge of guilt tightened her chest but she pushed
it away. “Yes. At first it felt good. My own form of revenge on the
pack that betrayed me. But after the first few decades, the high
wore off. Now I’m just after one thing.”

“Let me guess,” he said dryly. “Eli?”

She shrugged. “Sounds like a bad movie, doesn’t
it?”

“It’s a bit predictable. But I’m going to let you in
on a little secret. Revenge isn’t what you think it will be.” He
leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “A man who
studieth revenge, keeps his wounds green.”

“Another fortune cookie?”

He shook his head. “Francis Bacon, a philosopher. He
also said, ‘if we do not maintain justice, justice will not
maintain us.’”

“Sounds like a contradiction to his first
statement.”

“No, Natalia. Justice is not the same as revenge.
Revenge is an expression of anger. It’s purely for the offended.
And it won’t heal the wounds of your betrayal.”

Half-heartedly, she asked, “Then what will?”

He sat upright and leaned toward her, his gaze so
intense her breath hitched in the back of her throat. His eyes told
a story of loss and pain. After a moment, he whispered,
“Forgiveness.”

Cristian regretted the Chinese food as his stomach
churned. Almost three in the morning in Montana and the half-moon
lit the open plain, reflecting off the nearby lake. Normally, he
would’ve stopped to appreciate its beauty. But the odor of evil had
turned it into an ugly night.

Natalia studied the body of a teenage girl several
yards behind him. She couldn’t have been more than fifteen years
old. A mere child. He looked up into the starry sky. After a strict
upbringing in Orthodox Christianity, he finally begged the
question, was there a God?

“
La
tot ceea ce există este un scop
,” his mother used to say.
“To everything
there is a purpose.”

He turned toward the girl’s body, her hot pink shirt
out of place in the dark wilderness. Maybe his faith was lacking,
but he just couldn’t see a higher purpose in this.

They’d called the police, who would likely check her
for sexual assault, something he was better off not knowing. The
bloody mess the Slayer left behind was bad enough.

Natalia hadn’t made a sound since they’d found the
girl. As soon as they’d crossed the Montana border the Slayer’s
scent had hit them like a freight train. They’d sprinted through
the trees, running for a full two miles as the scent grew stronger.
Natalia had pushed past him, hunger for the Slayer’s blood driving
her. But it wasn’t the Slayer they found. Only his latest victim.
And if that wasn’t disturbing enough, a strip of Natalia’s shirt
had been tied around the girl’s wrist.

The Slayer was taunting them. Anger mixed with grief
and he swallowed back a howl.

He walked to Natalia’s side and forced himself to
look at the young body.
“
Sufletul la vânt, deşi inimile mii plânge. Pace tine, se va
găsi, în braţele tatălui tău milostiv.”

He made a cross
motion with
his hand as
he whispered the prayer. He caught Natalia’s curious gaze and
interpreted.
“
Soul to
the wind though our hearts weep. Peace thee shall find in the arms
of thy merciful father.”

He studied her reaction. She nodded but her eyes were
distant. Cold. Worry for her filled his heart, already aching with
the girl’s needless death. He placed a hand on Natalia’s
shoulder.

She shrugged it off. “Police will be here soon. We
better go.”

Her gruff response didn’t fool him. Natalia was as
affected as he was. She just had more practice at hiding it. He
gave her space as they trudged back to where they’d left the jeep.
They drove in silence, continuing their journey north. Cristian
made the decision to stop in a larger town and pay the extra rate
for a nice hotel room. A hot shower and down comforter sounded
perfect. They needed comfort. They needed to believe in goodness
again.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Natalia said when
they’d entered their room for the day. She brushed by him and shut
the bathroom door.

His skin crawled and he had the same urge to wash the
feeling of disgust away. The sight of the gruesome crime ate at his
mind like a disease. He wasn’t sheltered. He’d hurt men, he’d
killed them. But
never
a child. He couldn’t fathom destroying the
innocence of one so young. Werewolves were family creatures.
Children were treasured and loved. It went against every natural
instinct to harm one so vulnerable. The Slayer deserved worse than
death.

He paced the length of the room, unsettled. Maybe he
should shift and go for a run. No, he couldn’t leave Natalia here
to face the memory alone. The sound of the shower reminded him of
what was behind that door. Another body. Warmth. Comfort. He needed
it. And as much as Natalia wanted to deny it, she did too.

He opened the bathroom door and flower-scented steam
hit him. The fragrance poured into his body in a calming wave.
Natalia’s naked silhouette, graceful and lithe, behind the frosted
glass door made him instantly hard. But he wasn’t there for sex. He
just needed to touch her.

After waiting a moment to see if she would demand he
leave, he stripped off his shirt and pants and walked toward the
door. Natalia opened it, revealing a glorious body that made his
breath hitch in the back of his throat. Her eyes, swirling with
torment and confusion, silently gave him permission to enter.

Natalia’s mind was a jumbled mess when she welcomed a
naked Cristian into the shower. Her muscles twitched in agitation.
In her long life she’d witnessed genocide, plague, war, famine, and
slavery. In the last century and a half, she hadn’t felt a thing
for the victims. But now…

Now it felt like something cold and evil had crawled
under her skin and the scalding heat of the shower and all the
flowery soap she could find wouldn’t wash it away.

Then Cristian stepped inside, radiating masculine
energy. Comfort. Warmth. His body invaded her space. Sun-kissed
skin covered in a layer of light blonde fuzz, muscles flexed and
extended with sinewy grace. He was beautiful.

Unsure of what to do, she stood still, her arms
hanging limply at her sides. For the first time she could remember,
she didn’t want to be alone.

Cristian’s gaze never left hers as he crowded her,
his body towering over her smaller one. His eyes were intense and
drank in her naked form. But it was more than lust. Some spark…a
connection she’d never felt before.

With his eyes, he said,
“I see your pain…and feel it,
too.”

No longer could she hide from him. She felt stripped
emotionally. Raw. Almost violated. How could such a thing both
terrify and comfort her at the same time? Staring wide-eyed and
feeling ridiculous, she swallowed hard as he touched his fingertips
to her cheek. They trailed down her neck where he paused to rub his
thumb across her pulse – which pounded so hard it almost leapt out
of her skin. His hands continued their path downward, across her
shoulders then lightly down her arms. Every cell awakened at his
touch, tingling like electricity. A thumping sound reverberated in
her ears and she almost didn’t recognize her own heartbeat.

His calloused hands stroked down her back, pulling
her against him. She hesitated at first then accepted his embrace
with a surrendering sigh. Warmth filled her as his heartbeat,
matching hers, pounded under her cheek.

She nuzzled her face into his chest while he rubbed
his hands down her back, following the stream of water. He exhaled
a tired breath and rested his chin on her head. Her muscles,
previously tense with stress, softened under his caress.

She was melting. For him.

With each deep breath, her inhibitions drifted away.
All she wanted to do was forget. Everything. Marcelo, Eli, the
Slayer, the child in –

She gulped and choked back emotions that surfaced. A
large palm cupped her face, holding her against his chest. Her eyes
drifted shut. She was glad the woodsy smell that was Cristian
didn’t dissipate in the steamy shower. It enveloped her, caressing
her soul like his fingers were her skin.

His other hand moved lower, stroking over her ass. A
flood of warmth rushed to her core. Lust slammed into her hard as
he kneaded one cheek then the other. When he pulled back to meet
her gaze, she studied his face. Full lips, proud chin, eyes
sparkling with compassion and desire. They pushed through her
barriers like fangs through flesh.

Her mouth hung open as she struggled for something to
say, but he cut her off with a kiss. Softly, he seduced her,
coaxing her mouth open with his tongue. Though he was gentle, there
was no mistaking his kiss as anything less than a claiming of her
body. The way he leaned over her caused her back to arch and her
breasts to press against his chest. He was possessive in every way.
He’d steal her heart if she wasn’t careful.

But right now, she didn’t feel like being careful. So
she kissed him back, claiming him just as possessively. Her belly
fluttered when one of his hands grasped her breast. He rolled her
nipple between his fingers and a shot of pleasure ran straight to
her clit. She groaned and rocked against him, instinct driving her
now.

He pulled away from her mouth and cupped her face
with both hands. “Natalia.” After several small kisses on her nose
and lips, he whispered, “
Esti de rupere inima mea.
”

She had no idea what the words meant, only that they
sounded unbearably tender coming from his lips. And that should
scare her.

But when his hands found their way between her legs,
all caution flew to the wind. She gasped then leaned into his
touch. His lips skated across her jaw and down her neck, leaving a
trail of tingly warmth. As he parted her flesh and flicked her clit
with a finger, her knees wobbled and she almost collapsed on the
floor.

But he caught her, and with both hands under her ass,
he lifted her, pressing her back against the wall. She wrapped her
legs around his waist and he slid home.

She cried out at the fullness of him. It hit every
one of her pleasure spots and she clenched her legs around him. His
head fell into her neck where his goatee tickled her skin. He
kissed and nipped at her neck and ear, sending waves of pleasure
vibrating through her. She squirmed against him but he remained
still.

When he lifted his head and caught her gaze, he kept
it captive as he thrust in and out slowly. The water ran cold,
cooling down their passionate heat. But still, Natalia burned for
him. She bucked against his muscled body, longing for something
faster, harder, but he didn’t give in. He kept a steady, relentless
pace that built her climax higher and higher until she couldn’t
take it anymore.

One more hard thrust and she broke into pieces, her
orgasm shattering her from the inside out. Cristian dropped his
forehead onto hers as he panted and spilled into her. They remained
against the shower wall, him inside her, as cold water sent chills
down her body.

He kissed her once more then pulled out, setting her
down gently on her feet. “You’re freezing,” he said, eyeing the
goose bumps covering her skin.

She couldn’t find her voice.

“Come on. Let’s get you warm.” He shut off the water
and stepped out the shower.

Unready to process the implications of what they’d
just done, she stared at his back while he acquired two towels from
the other side of the bathroom. Such a masculine back, muscles
rippled under his glowing skin. And his ass. His ass was worthy of
a –

Oh gods! What had she done?

When he came back and stood in front of her, she
crossed her arms over her breasts like a shield.

He sighed. “No sense getting weird about things now.”
Pushing her hands out of the way, he wrapped the towel around her
body.

She gasped when he scooped her into his arms. “Put me
down. I’m not a child.” She struggled in his arms but he held
tight.

“You’re sure acting like one.”

Was she? She stilled and let him carry her to the
bedroom. “I’m not acting like a child, Cristian. I’m being logical.
This was a mista –”

He tossed her onto the bed. “Shut up.” The words
lacked heat, as usual, but it was a command nonetheless. He stood
over her, his eyes brimming with a fire she’d never seen in him
before.

Had Mr. Cool-headed Alpha finally lost his
patience?

“I told you I’d crack that shell, Natalia, and I
meant it.”

He lowered his body onto hers and she had an
overwhelming urge to submit to his ministrations. She grunted at
the admission and struggled to get away. But he bore down on her
with his full weight, almost cutting off her air.

“You’re not going to pull away from me now,
puiule
.” His
voice was a fierce warning. “I won’t let you, so you might as well
get used to me.”