The Werewolf's Bride Page 7

  She ran as fast as she could, but she could still feel the mist coming at her heels, threatening to overtake her. When its icy, invisible fingers brushed against her back, she knew it was inevitable, but still she ran, her breath lodged in her throat—-

  Ice encased her.

  She screamed, instinctively covering her face to ward off any attack, but nothing happened, and the sound of her scream also remained trapped inside of her. It was as if everything was commanded by the wraiths, even the very way her body functioned.

  Soleil screamed and screamed, but still not a sound went past her lips.

  Everything was so very silent.

  Too, too silent.

  Slowly, she lowered her hands, and Soleil gulped when she saw how much the world had changed. Everything felt darker, more oppressive, and the silence made it worse. The trees glaring down at her seemed endlessly tall, their claw-like branches innumerable as they reached for her—-

  Soleil pinched herself hard.

  No, this wasn’t real.

  But even so, she couldn’t stop from moving instinctively, crawling away from the branches that kept coming towards her.

  A feeling of abandonment struck her just as she heard a baby’s cry piercing the air.

  Another infant, thrown away by a parent because it was imperfect—-

  Her throat tightened—-

  No.

  Soleil’s mind desperately clung to reality.

  This wasn’t happening.

  This wasn’t real.

  This was an illusion.

  But even so, long-buried feelings of abandonment kept flowing out of her, turning into ropes of despair that wrapped itself around her neck, tightening, choking her—-

  Soleil began to panic. Illusion or not, this felt too real. She was going to die—-

  Snap out of it!

  The voice came out of nowhere, furious, but underlying it was concern and fear – for her.

  Her heart leapt in recognition.

  It was the Marquis of Lunare.

  The wolf whose heart she was fated to keep.

  “I-Ilie?”

  Who else?

  She searched her surroundings for any sign of his presence, but all she could see was more and more branches that were just waiting to break her bones and tear her apart.

  “I c-can’t see you,” Soleil choked out. “I can’t breathe, I’m feeling...”

  And then she realized what this was.

  It was not an illusion.

  It was real.

  It was her curse...killing her.

  “Ilie,” she screamed. She was going to die. She really was going to die.

  You know this isn’t real—-

  “You don’t understand,” Soleil sobbed. More shameful sobs tried to rush out of her throat, but she did her best to swallow them back down. “I know w-what I’m seeing isn’t real, but what I’m feeling is. I’m going to die—-” Because she was cursed. He didn’t know it, and that’s why he didn’t believe her.

  “Ilie, help!”

  Whatever you think you’re feeling, I can make it stop. But you won’t like the way I do it.

  “Anything is fine—-” Because she could already feel herself dying.

  Then you need to think of me fucking you.

  Soleil froze.

  A moment later, she shrieked, “Are you insane? How can you make jokes like that? Don’t you see this is—-”

  Oh.

  This wasn’t for real.

  It couldn’t be.

  Ilie Marcovici was a lot of things.

  Playboy, killer, deceiver—-

  Half-wolf, half-demon—-

  Arrogant aristocrat hell-bent on seducing her—-

  He was all of those things and more, but he was also a soldier like her, and people like them never made a joke at times like this.

  Soleil closed her eyes.

  This. Is. Not. Real.

  When she opened them again, the world was back to normal. The Woods of the Wraiths was still creepy, but the mist was gone and replaced instead by the tall and impressive form of the Marquis of Lunare. His white blond hair was combed away from his face, and his silver eyes gleamed with amusement as he stared down at her. In his cobalt blue coat and tight-fitting breeches, he cut quite the dashing figure.

  He looked like he was on his way to a ball, Soleil thought, only he had been forced into making an unnecessary detour to save a damsel in distress.

  And of course, said stupidly helpless damsel had to be her.

  Soleil’s lips pursed. She hated, hated, absolutely hated when she had to ask for this man’s help. She had been fighting since she was fifteen, so why was it all of a sudden she was unable to survive without being rescued?

  Chapter Two

  Ilie Marcovici didn’t mind waiting for Soleil’s mental grumbling to finish. It was vastly entertaining, especially since his heartkeeper had once again forgotten the bond between them, which allowed him to listen in on her thoughts. When she looked up, as if suspicious of why he was content to merely stand there, he only smiled and instead offered one gloved hand to her, murmuring, “May I?”

  Properly distracted, Soleil was now wondering whether she should accept or reject the marquis’ help. She could stand on her own, after all. But in the end, years of etiquette were too much ingrained in her, and Soleil reluctantly accepted the marquis’ hand.

  Ilie repressed his smile as he took hold of her small, soft hand in his, knowing exactly how Soleil was feeling.

  As he drew her up, she asked urgently, “My sisters?”

  “They’re fine. The battle was more than half over by the time I arrived, and I left the wolves to help them before coming after you.” He looked down at her with a frown. “And you? Are you hurt anywhere, ma lisse?” The wraiths had infinite means to inflict harm, and sometimes such wounds weren’t the type to immediately manifest.

  “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.” The words were automatic, falling gracefully from her lips, but the way she yanked her hand from his hold was not. His presence alone made her feel all tingly, but his touch was worse, making her feel the need to—-

  She would not think about that, Soleil decided prudishly. Looking up, she told the marquis severely, “I have told you before, have I not? I am not your lily.” As far as Soleil was concerned, being any man’s lily was a ludicrous idea, considering how she killed for a living.

  But all the marquis said was, “Mm.” He was frowning, his gaze running over her form. “You are certain you’re unhurt?”

  When he started checking her for injuries, Soleil opened and closed her mouth, eventually deciding against telling him off. She knew, from experience, that alpha otherworlders – who weren’t too demonic, that was - were all the same, with the way they considered themselves personally responsible of their heartkeepers’ safety.

  But then the marquis’ hands brushed her breasts—-

  Face flaming even as her nipples pouted into life, she slapped Ilie’s hands away. “W-what do you think you’re doing?” She wished she could’ve sounded angrier, but even to her ears her voice sounded anything but, with its breathless and husky tone. Curse him and his wandering hands, and curse her body for being so blasted sensitive!

  “I told you, milady. I’m merely checking for injuries.” But the wicked gleam in the marquis’ silver eyes belied his words, and when his gaze trailed down suggestively, focusing on her swelling and aching breasts, Soleil could feel her body stirring even more, shamelessly begging for his touch.

  She quickly turned her back on him, hissing, “Will you please behave?”

  “I will, if you tell me you are truly fine.” Stepping in front of her once again, he tipped her chin up, his gaze gently probing as he murmured, “I did not think it was possible you would fall for such a trap. You must have known that illusions are one of the common ways for these woods to kill its prey.”

  “I guess I’m just human.” Soleil shrugged uncomfortably, thinking that the marquis wa
s too insightful for his own good. Changing the subject, she asked, “Have you seen the man I was pursuing?”

  The marquis grimaced. “I wish you wouldn’t put it quite that way. It makes me wish I could kill him the second time.”

  The second time?

  A moment later, the marquis was cupping her elbow and gently turning her around, and that was when Soleil saw him.

  Wilbur’s corpse was swinging lifelessly mid-air, a rope of vines wound around his throat. Either he had hung himself in guilt, or the wraiths had done it for him.

  She closed her eyes and prayed for his soul, even though she knew it was pointless.

  “You’re too gentle for this kind of job,” the marquis murmured when she finished praying.

  “Gentle,” she reminded him with a deliberately gentle tone, “doesn’t mean weak.”

  They started to walk, her hand on his arm, and her stupid sense of humor struck, making her want to laugh at the most inappropriate moment. There was a dead body behind them, and here they were, strolling like they were taking a walk at the park.

  Ilie noticed the way her slim shoulders shook a little. “What’s so funny?”

  She froze, wondering if he found her demeanor too cold and insensitive.

  Correctly interpreting the dismay on her lovely face, Ilie shook his head with a faint smile. “Be at ease, milady. I’m more amazed than anything that you’ve willingly chosen this type of life, and more so that you’ve been able to maintain any kind of humor despite what you have to face daily.”

  “I s-see.” Soleil didn’t like to think of how relieved she felt at the marquis’ explanations. If she did, then it would mean acknowledging she cared greatly about his opinion – when she did not.

  She could not, or at least not just yet.

  “I hear your sisters calling to you.”

  She blinked. “What for?” That he was telling the truth was not to be doubted. All otherworlders had naturally heightened senses, and more so when they were as old as Ilie, who had roamed the earth for almost a millennium.

  Ilie cocked his head. “She says she received a call from Crystal.” He glanced at her. “If you believe it’s urgent, I can take you to them in a second.”

  “I suppose it—-” The marquis picked her up in his arms.

  “—-could be urgent,” she finished breathlessly, because what was supposed to be a ten-minute sojourn had been completed in two seconds, and she now found herself staring back at her sisters’ sly gazes.

  Ilie carefully lowered her to her feet.

  “Showoff,” she muttered under her breath.

  “Only to serve you, milady,” Ilie said without missing a beat.

  “Hurrah,” Fleur exclaimed as she clapped her hands in delight. “You saved her!”

  “You’re so lucky,” Aurora gushed, “to have found someone like the marquis.”

  Soleil rolled her eyes. “Drop it.” She knew that the only reason they were so intent on pushing her towards the marquis was because they wanted her to agree to be his heartkeeper – and save her life in the process.

  But her younger sisters only laughed, and then they were pulling Soleil away from the marquis, their pretty, blood-spattered faces wreathed in smiles.

  “Crystal called,” Fleur informed her. “Your new student’s sent word, and the ship carrying her should be docking in about a half hour’s time.”

  “She wants you to be her welcoming committee,” Aurora added.

  She glanced down at her watch, a sensible-looking Patek Philippe, and nodded thoughtfully. “I should make it if you drop me off the port—-”

  “No need,” the marquis interjected. “It would be best if I take you there. Your sisters would appreciate an early rest, surely.”

  Fleur suddenly yawned. “I am feeling a little tired.”

  Aurora touched her forehead. “And I’ve a bit of a headache, to be honest.”

  Soleil stared at them stoically. “You do know that you two are the worst actresses in history, do you not?”

  But the two younger women ignored her and instead turned to the marquis. Curtsying at the same time, they murmured, “Milord.”

  Soleil glared. “Oh, for fudge’s sake!”

  The marquis ignored her, too, bowing as he murmured, “Miladies.” But his arm shot forward at the same time, barring Soleil from trying to escape.

  When he straightened, she told him, “But my dress is in our carriage, and I still have to change—-”

  Ilie cocked his head to the side, and then a moment later, he murmured, “My coachman has already retrieved it.”

  She stared at him in consternation.

  “Whatever their reasons,” he said coaxingly, “you must admit that they will benefit from an early night. Do you truly desire them to accompany you to the port when they don’t have to?”

  Drat this man.

  He knew just which strings to pull to have her do what he wanted.

  “I despise you,” Soleil mumbled.

  He brought her hand to his lips. “I thought you’d see it my way.”

  The four of them parted ways when they reached their respective carriages, with her sisters blowing her kisses and pretending to sniff back tears like they were about to send Soleil off with her bridegroom.

  “You two are going to pay for this,” Soleil vowed.

  Fleur poked her head out of the carriage’s window and cupped a hand over her ear. “What was that, sister dear? I’m afraid I can’t—-”

  Aurora yanked their baby sister back inside the carriage. “Don’t push it.” To the coachman, she said firmly, “Let’s go, sirrah.”

  As the two carriages headed off in opposite directions, Soleil settled herself back on her seat, placed her hands on her lap, and slowly glanced up to meet the gaze of her companion.

  “I have recently come to a realization that I wish to share with you, milady.”

  “Oh?”

  He nodded solemnly. “It is a matter that must be rectified immediately.”

  Soleil frowned, trying to think of such a matter. “What is it?”

  “While I’ve already made you come twice—-”

  She choked.

  “—-there is something I have not done yet.”

  Now, she knew exactly what he was talking about, but she wished she didn’t because the matter was quite, quite embarrassing.

  Their gazes met, and when she saw his knowing smile, she knew he was explicitly aware of the reason behind her pink cheeks.

  “May I have your first kiss, ma lisse?”

  Curse him, and he had to say it out loud, too!

  Soleil knew she should refuse, but she couldn’t. The marquis was asking for her first kiss. What girl in her right mind could refuse such an offer? Even so, she muttered resentfully, “Why can’t you just take it? You’re supposed to be a rake. You’re supposed to steal kisses.”

  His lips twitched. “Because you’re different, and so I’d like to court you, as you deserve, and this is a part of it.” He inclined his head questioningly. “And so what is it to be, milady?”

  She protested helplessly, “But you already know—-”

  “I need the words, milady,” he murmured. “I wouldn’t want to risk accidentally offending your sensibilities and incur a lady’s wrath.”

  “Liar.”

  The marquis only smiled. “The words, milady?”

  His gaze dropped to her lips, and she felt her throat dry, making her wet her lips. His gaze burned at seeing it, and her breath caught when she saw the promise blazing from the marquis’ magnetic silver eyes.

  She heard herself say, “Yes. Y-you may have my first kiss.”

  Chapter Three

  Ilie’s heart slammed against his chest at Soleil’s tentatively spoken words. For a moment, he could only gaze at her with hooded eyes, a part of him wondering why it was only with her he ended up feeling like an untutored schoolboy in the throes of first love.

  Nine hundred years, he thought broodingly. He’d had that
long to master the art of seduction, but with this woman, he found himself breaking all the rules, even to the point of fucking her with his fingers and mouth and yet neglecting to taste her lips.

  Promising himself that he would retain control this time, he slowly drew her to him, his gloved hands gentle as he cupped her face. He heard her heartbeat, literally, racing faster every second, and he was almost gratified to know that she wasn’t as immune to him as she acted.

  Even if she kept refusing his offer of marriage, at least he could be sure she desired him almost as much as he desired her.

  “Thank you, milady.” He shook his head, murmuring, “You are so unbelievably beautiful in my eyes, ma lisse. I cannot fathom how it is that men are able to fight with you or against you.”

  Soleil rolled her eyes. “Too much flattery.”

  “You know I don’t have to lie to seduce you.”

  But he had lowered his head as he spoke, making her voice just a bit more breathless as she said, “I hope that’s not your way of telling me you d-don’t approve of what I do.”

  “I don’t.” When she started to pull away, he drew her back to him, saying, “But it doesn’t mean I’m going to keep you from doing what you love.”

  She blinked. “How modern of you.”

  His lips curved. “Don’t be too impressed, milady. If I ever think what you’re about to do is suicidal, I won’t let you go, even if I have to lock you in a room—-”

  She let out an exasperated sound, cutting him off as she exclaimed, “And just when I think—-oh.” He had pressed his lips against hers for the briefest moment, but it was more than enough.

  Her toes curled, and she drew a shaky breath—-

  Oh.

  His lips were against hers again.

  There, not there, there, not there—-

  Like he was teasing her, the cad—-

  She started to open her eyes, but he chose that exact moment to nip her lips. The intimacy shocked and thrilled her, and Soleil’s eyes drifted close again. He nipped her upper lip, then her lower lip. The nipping turned into nibbling, and her toes curled anew.

  Was it always supposed to feel like this, the marquis making Soleil feel like he was taking his time eating her? Was her heart always supposed to beat this fast, this hard, to the point she could barely hear her thoughts?