The Moon, the Madness, and the Magic (16 page)

The Werewolves headed toward the caves at the base of the mountain. Rourke swooped low over the trees. Their colossal size didn’t surprise him. They seemed like giant wolf men with long, flowing hair, wolves walking upright with wolfen eyes and teeth in strangely human features until they turned their empty, rogue eyes at him. They appeared as much like men as wolves—the blend was an exotic contrast. That did surprise him. No one had warned him the Weres would be so horrifyingly beautiful in their awfulness.

The biggest one reeked of Dane’s blood. Agony ripped through the human inside him, dangerously affecting the dragon. If he wanted to attack, this was his last chance before they disappeared into one of the dark holes in the mountain. As the dragon, Rourke was too large to fit, and his rage exploded with his frustration. He was determined to get his revenge.

The beast bellowed. Flames lit the night sky. The man inside cried out, the wolf growled, the dragon screeched. Alone within the dragon, Rourke lost all sense of being as he flew out over the night sky seeking revenge for Dane.

Chapter 15

Dane Shifts

Water.
Dane stumbled down the mountain trail, following the distant sound of running water. Dizzy and weak from the fever and blood loss, he wandered into the forest clearing with only the light of the moon to guide his way. There, not more than twenty feet ahead, he spotted the shallow stream. Finally, he’d found the source.

Relief filled him with hope. Even with his tongue swollen tightly inside his dry mouth, he could almost smell the fresh mountain water. Maybe he would survive, after all. Today, before he heard the rushing water, he wouldn’t have bet on it. Deep in the Colorado Rockies, he’d spent last night, after the wolf pack attack, lost.

Dane’s mind fought back the memory of the vicious attack through a red haze of anger. The knot in his stomach grew tighter, and he balled his hands into fists.

Rourke’s fate weighed heavily on him. Surely by now, his brother could be dead. As it was, his own injuries were serious, and he needed water badly. What little life still burned within him seemed like a mere ember as he dragged himself toward the stream.

Dehydration and the poison from his wounds made him wonder if this stream was merely another hallucination like the last one had been. The crimson stains on his hands and the blood running down the front of his shirt proved he hadn’t imagined the entire incident—but that was where he drew the line. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that he’d been attacked by wolves the size of large bears with the eyes of men. Or the equally preposterous likelihood that a white unicorn had chased the wolf off.

One reality remained. The gash on his left shoulder throbbed where the wolves’ bites had torn the flesh away. The burning pain spread through him like a brand, spreading toxins minute by minute. The gnawing fever that had started earlier racked his body with white-hot chills. When he saw the creek, he believed he might survive, after all. That was before the effects of the bite escalated, making his bones ache and his muscles violently spasm. Shortly after he envisioned his hands turn into claws, he began to lose hope.

Exhausted, Dane dropped to all fours, crawled to the water’s edge, and rolled in. He groaned with relief.
Ah, the water is no mirage.

Too weak to move any farther, he flopped to his back in the shallows.
So cool.
The water should have been more of a relief to his hot body. He imagined steam rising off him, yet nothing eased the flames burning him alive.

The moon, almost full overhead, grew fuller, and the fever pitch within him increased along with his throbbing misery. The spasms in his aching muscles became even more fierce than before. The torture intensified to a new level.

Tired of fighting, he heard his moans turn to tormented screams, and he couldn’t stop thrashing about, tossing his head from side to side. He was being wrenched apart limb from limb, physically enduring the dislocation of every joint in his body.

Wondering how much more he could take, he gave in to the pain and shrieked out in agony. Even to him, the noise he made came closer to the howls of an animal in pain than to the cries of a human.

As his vision darkened, Dane prayed for the capacity to pass out. Pain only existed in awareness. Hope existed in oblivion or death. Those options provided the escape he craved from the clutch of this raging affliction. But he couldn’t manage to succumb. He remained conscious, and the pain went on and on with no end in sight. It seemed there’d be no escape for him as the convulsions became intolerable.

The last of the suffering rippled through him as he looked up at the moon. His vision grew dim and faded. His last thought before finally passing out was that dying would be a relief.

* * * *

No pain.
In fact, Dane felt so fantastic he assumed the rest had been a terrible nightmare.

He blinked to clear his vision and chanced opening his eyes. The moon shone brightly to the east of the tree line. An intelligent set of blue eyes stared back at him from within a white, furred face.

Wolf!
He didn’t move.

A cool, wet nose nudged his chin. No, his jaw. And the white wolf staring at him whined.

He decided he
must be dead yet noted that the clear, slanted eyes staring steadily into his own held questions. Probably no more than his did. He suspected the fever had affected his thinking, especially when he looked at his hands.

No, paws.

Apparently he had died, and then he must have been resurrected as a large, black wolf.

Okay, I get it.

He let out a slow sigh of relief, more sure than ever he was still hallucinating.
At least this time, there wasn’t anything left of the mind-numbing pain, although acknowledging any of the recent events meant he was ready for the funny farm. If he believed anything he’d experienced lately, they’d be coming to take him away and lock him up forever.

All this was impossible.
Preposterous.
He didn’t even trust his eyes, especially when, to make matters worse, the white wolf staring at him shimmered like spun glass. She assumed the form of a woman. And then he recognized the woman. Celeste.

As ridiculous as everything seemed, a small part of him hoped she was real when he drank in her beauty. The one woman Dane wanted heart and soul his brother had claimed as his and refused to share. The woman, who admittedly wanted Dane, too, stood before him naked, tempting, and perfect in every way. Her porcelain white skin shone practically iridescent under the moon. Long, pale blonde hair draped modestly around her slight shoulders and wrapped around her waist, hanging well past her hips.

Her presence confirmed his latest belief. He was losing his mind, but in his fevered state, he couldn’t help from thinking,
Exquisite.

“Thank you. But you aren’t mad or dead.”
The woman’s whispered words sounded in his head. “
And I’m afraid, as absurd as all this seems, you’re not hallucinating, either.”

Had she read his mind?

“Yes, this isn’t the first time we’ve been in each other’s minds.”
She grinned a knowing smile at him and asked, “
You’re reading my mind, too
,
aren’t you?”

“I must be, since I’m unable to speak.”
Dane rose up on all fours and shook. He checked himself over. “
I’m a wol—”

“Yes, you are wolf-shifter. This has become more complicated under the circumstances.”

The pounding whoosh in his ears was the sound of his own heartbeat. When he tried to speak, the low rumbling coming from his chest resembled a growl. What was a man supposed to think when all his concrete thinking imploded?

Wolf?

That thought should have bothered him more than it did, but somehow, during this transformation, his body had healed, and he felt stronger than ever before. Looking around, he studied the dark forest and found he could see into its depths as never before.
The night looked different, sounded different, smelled…?

He sniffed the air. He was different. His senses were heightened. Sharper. Clearer. More defined. Scents he’d never really identified before were suddenly recognizable.

Starting with her, for one.

His male body quickened, and he experienced a pang of guilt. Before the attack, Dane’s single purpose focused on finding his brother if he’d survived. Something had drawn them to Enchanted Mountain, and he suspected it’s what also brought about all this.

Dane felt the change begin, shifting him back to human form as he openly stalked his brother’s woman. After his wolf’s body compressed, crunching painfully back into his human form, he mentally asked, “
Will I ever change as easily as you?”

“Yes, soon, it will be second nature,” she answered. “Painless and thrilling.”

In spite of the discomfort shifting back and forth caused him at the moment, he sensed more than noticed he was the same and yet different. Somehow more aggressive, more alive, more aware.

Another thing he realized was that shifting had another downside.

He was as naked as she and fully aroused by her presence. All he could think about was how badly he desired her, how much he’d wanted her from the first time he’d seen her. And hell, at the moment, he was so damn desperate his balls ached.

“I’ve been looking for you since last night. I am for you.”

Her voice and her words wove a net around his heart. And despite how his groin tightened and heated, almost distracting his thoughts, he felt trapped.

Rourke will kill me for this.
The pressure building in the organ growing between his legs had him too busy physically responding to care about anything except his need. He slowly approached her instead of wondering what the hell the implication of her words meant to him or about shape-shifting into a wolf or why he was breaking the rule about coveting his brother’s…what? Wolf, girlfriend, mate?

Those last few words of hers imprinted in his mind. They concerned him most. She’d said, “I am for you.”

Her words angered him. What did it mean? He’d heard her when she’d said that to Rourke, too. He wondered why she had said that same vow to Rourke just yesterday if she were meant for him. Last night? How much time had passed while he’d gone through this change?

He panicked. “What happened to Rourke?”

* * * *

Celeste’s heart flipped. Dane’s eyes flashed, and his lips pulled back in a snarl. His human face had turned almost feral. Even though he clearly didn’t understand what was happening to him, the expression on his face proved one thing—he’d adapt. The fight-or-flight response wasn’t an issue with him. She saw he’d do whatever was necessary. She could tell that by his wide-set stance and the grudging set of his shoulders.

The man looked as good naked as Celeste had imagined and as capable as her succubus hoped his reputation implied. The dark wolf prince of the forest had finally returned, and if the old myths were true, he was hers. Convincing him to accept his rightful place as head of his pack wouldn’t be easy, and making him understand he was part of their ménage might be harder. She was worried. The hard line of his jaw told her exactly how stubborn the man could be in any form, and two males unwilling to share one female was never a good situation.

Celeste glanced up at the moon. It rose ever higher in the night sky. Time remained to ease his transition, yet the moon phase grew longer each night. Two nights left until the moon reached its full phase. Beltane approached, and the prophecy must be fulfilled.

The increasing tremor in his hands proved she would have to persuade him to take her soon. Apparently he wouldn’t give in to his primal instincts so easily. She could almost hear him thinking about Rourke. Under the circumstances, Dane was too honorable for his own good.

His golden eyes flickered and then narrowed. His nostrils flared. While he stood still as stone watching her, she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing. More than the tremor that shook his hands and racked his body, the telltale erection was the one sure thing that gave away his growing desire.

They didn’t have time for his principles if she wanted to save his life. She’d seduce him if she must to convince him to mate with her. Before the moon reached its zenith, they still had to find Rourke, and the three had to bind before the full moon. His beast would run rampant on Beltane unless they were with him.

The rogue wolf who had attacked Dane wasn’t an ordinary shifter. He’d turned Were sometime before the end of last year. Something about the group who ran with him was different, more dangerous. They were out of control, and his bite would be fatal unless she assisted Dane through his Were conversion.

Tears burned behind her closed lids, tears she refused to shed. She would never really be Dane’s unless Rourke could accept their fate, and knowing Dane understood still hurt her. He knew she belonged to his brother first.

Rourke would be furious about this, but she didn’t think he’d want his brother to die.

* * * *

“Dane, I
am
for you.”

“No, you’re not. I heard you say that to him. What have you done to us?”