Vanderale’s acceptance was the final hurdle to ensuring the survival of his people. Vanderale Enterprises “gifted” Haven and Sanctuary with all their military toys and were essential contacts to many of the military security contracts that were lining the wolf and feline Breed coffers. Del-Rey was eager to join the family, to gain for his people what the wolf and feline Breeds were kind enough to share with the coyotes. They wanted their own.
Breathing in deeply he turned and let his gaze flicker to the far hall and the wing he knew they were keeping Ashley in. Brim was with her, and that was the best protection she could have, but Del-Rey ached to see the young woman he had come to call “sister.”
Turning to where Malachi and his mate sat on one of the far couches, Del-Rey made his way to them. Sadly, the scent of heat was, for the moment, cool. Isabelle’s bruising and injuries had been such that it didn’t endanger her life, but it had endangered Malachi’s ability to enjoy his mate until she healed. But the coyote seemed content to take care of her. Like all male Breed mates, his devotion to her was clearly apparent.
Breeds didn’t throw away what human men took for granted. Their mates were everything to them, and Malachi was no different.
They rose to their feet.
“I’m sorry, Del-Rey,” Isabelle whispered, the proof of the tears she had been shedding showing in her red-rimmed eyes. “None of us expected Holden to do something like this.”
Del-Rey shook his head. “No fault lies at your feet,” he swore to her. He glanced at Isabelle and the exhaustion and bruises on her face. “Take your mate to the hotel, Malachi, so she can rest. There’s nothing more that can be done here. We’ll head home first thing in the morning.”
“I’ll take you up on that, Alpha Delgado,” Malachi stated. “And once we’ve arrived at the Citadel, we need to talk. There’s far more interesting information here than any of us imagined.”
Del-Rey’s brow lifted. More information? And from the sounds of it, something that didn’t want to wait.
“Tomorrow evening,” Del-Rey promised them. “Until then, get some sleep.”
As they moved away Del-Rey sat down on a nearby couch and watched as his men began filtering from the waiting room, moving to find their hotels, a meal or a drink. He only prayed they managed to stay out of trouble.
He added that prayer to another. The prayer that Ashley was soon her bright and vivacious self again. Because if anything happened to her, Del-Rey feared that the war between Breeds and the remaining Council would only heat up further. Ashley was well loved by all the packs and prides, considered a little sister, a sometimes irritant, and represented all their dreams of a future. Because Ashley laughed. She played. She pulled pranks. But even more, Ashley reminded them all of what they wanted their children to be.
Full of fun and full of life.
Losing her could very well tip the balance and change the silent war with the Council to one that the world would clearly see in the color of blood.
And that was something none of them could afford.
TWO DAYS LATER
Malachi let his lips coast over the bruising of his mate’s face as she lay before him, naked, aroused. The past two days had been free of the mating heat, the injuries sustained to her body evidently severe enough that it had ameliorated the effects of the heat.
The glands beneath his tongue hadn’t swelled, the hormone absent until he’d awakened minutes earlier. Now, they were fully swollen, his cock engorged and throbbing, hunger pounding through his system and carrying with it the heightened hunger that affected Breeds and their mates during mating heat.
He wasn’t the only one affected. His mate was moving against him, her thighs clasping one of his, the wet heat of her pussy rubbing against it. The swollen bud of her clit was a heated little rasp against his thigh as her sharp little nails bit into his shoulders.
His lips roamed along her jaw then to her lips, teasing them both with the need for the taste of the passion burning between them.
“You’re killing me,” she whispered, arching to him, her hard little nipples burning into his chest as he brushed his lips over hers.
“I’ve missed you, mate.”
The hormone hadn’t tormented them, but his need for her had still been there, keeping him semi-aroused and all too aware of her naked body against him each night.
He brushed his lips against hers again, groaning as she nipped at them, daring him to take her kiss as she needed. Slanting his head he took a hungry taste of her, still holding back, returning for another as she moaned beneath him, her nails rasping down his back.
The pinprick of sensation was his undoing. Added to the hunger raging brutally between them Malachi parted his lips against hers, parting hers, his tongue forging inside as she took it with a hungry little feminine growl of her own.
Isabelle whimpered at the pleasure, twisting against him, the rasp of her nipples against his chest adding to the burning hunger attacking the rest of her body.
Clamping her lips around his tongue as it thrust in and out of her mouth, she fought for every taste of the mating hormone spilling from his tongue. That unique, subtle, addictive quality of the mating heat pushing the hunger pounding through her that much higher.
She needed him.
“Now,” she cried out as he pulled back to steal of the roughened, hungry kisses to her lips only before he turned his head to taste her jaw, to rasp his teeth against her neck. “Don’t wait, Malachi. I need you.”
He needed her just as desperately.
Isabelle spread her thighs as he moved, eagerly clasping his hips with her knees as he settled between them, the heavy width of his cock pressing between the swollen folds of her pussy.
The first, hard spurt of the pre-seminal fluid heated the entrance, the muscles flexing, milking against the overly wide crest as it began to push inside her.
The second spurt preceded the first, shallow thrust that buried the crest inside the burning depths of her sex. Pulling back, pushing inside once again, another spurt eased the natural, clenching tightness of her muscles further inside.
Each spurt of fluid was followed by a deeper thrust, a sensual pleasure-pain that had her crying out, arching closer as she ached for more, ached to feel his plunging inside her, taking her with the hungry desperation burning through both of them.
Coming over her, the fingers of one hand clenched on her hip as he gave a heavy groan and surged in to the hilt. That first deep, exciting full thrust unlocked the control he’d been carefully keeping.
His lips buried in the curve of her neck as he began moving, thrusting powerfully inside her, taking her to the base of his cock with every dip of his hips as Isabelle opened her thighs wider to take him even deeper. Her knees gripped his hips, her hips angling higher, cries escaping her throat as she felt pleasure rising fast and hard. There was no holding it back. There was no stopping this first, hungry need burning through them.
It felt as though it had been forever since she’d taken him. A lifetime since he had been able to hold her as she needed. Her orgasm rose, pushing higher through her senses, flooding them both with the sensations racing through them.
His thrusts became harder, faster. Each stroke rasping and caressing nerve endings so violently sensitive there was no way she could have held back longer.
Their release rushed over them. Like a firestorm out of control and exploding to consume everything in its wake. Ecstasy was a blaze that filled her mind, her senses, exploding through every cell of her body as she felt the first hard spurt of his release and the heavy swelling that stretched her, burned her and sent the catastrophic surge of pure rapture tearing through her.
With his teeth locked at the base of her neck Malachi shuddered with each spurt of his own release. The pulse of semen was another caress, another explosion burning through her.
As it eased, they were left exhausted, their breathing harsh in the dim silence of the room as Isabelle heard her own, tiny whimpers escaping her t
hroat at each renewed pulse of incredible sensation caused by the swelling that throbbed against once hidden nerve endings.
Could she live without this, without him?
She’d waited too long, watched the nights for too many years, and dreamed too deeply of having that something, that emotion so unknown that her restlessness had tormented her.
She didn’t want to live without him now.
Drowsy, ready to slip back into sleep, Isabelle moaned in loss as she felt the swelling recede and heard Malachi’s pleasured groan as he slipped from her and collapsed to the bed beside her.
He pulled her against him, the warmth of his body shielding her, wrapping around her as she sighed at the perfect ending to the hunger that had flared so bright and hot. His hand smoothed along her shoulder, pushing back the damp ends of her hair as he kissed her temple gently.
“Del-Rey called while you were sleeping,” he said, his voice still darker, deeper from the release they had just shared.
“Ashley?” Fear suddenly intruded, her gaze lifting to his at the thought of the fight her friend had gone through to simply live.
They had already nearly lost her twice. The wolf and coyote Breed doctors had fought desperately to keep her with them. They had brought her back each time, then sat sobbing with the alpha females of the packs and prides as they crashed from the fear and desperation each battle had wrought.
“She woke a few hours ago,” he told her. “She was asking for you.” He held her still as she started to rise. “Dr. Sobolov asked that we wait till afternoon to come in and see her. She’s still weak and tires easily. Her transfer back to the Citadel has been delayed again. Del-Rey doesn’t want to risk a setback or any complications. He’s waiting until she’s well enough to travel without the machines helping her to live.”
“She’s going to be okay?” she whispered, desperate, the guilt of her friend’s injuries flaying her with a harsh lash.
“She’s going to be okay.” The edge of relief in his voice reassured her now. “Her recovery won’t happen overnight, and as we learned with the feline alpha’s injuries when he took a bullet to the chest over a year ago, it can come with complications as they heal, but she is healing.”
Tears filled her eyes and slipped down her face despite her battle to hold them back. Malachi wiped them away with the edge of his thumb before laying a kiss at the corner of her lips.
“It wasn’t your fault, Isabelle,” he whispered, not for the first time. “None of it was your fault.”
“I should have told someone,” she cried as a sob tore from her. “I should have killed him myself. Something. Anything to have kept this from happening.”
Malachi shook his head. “Some things you can’t stop, baby. Ashley was running fast and hard toward an unlikely end. This way, it was contained and we were close enough to ensure she got the quickest medical care possible. She’s been so damned reckless over the past few months that her alpha has all but chained her to base whenever possible.”
Isabelle’s lips trembled. “She just wants to live, Malachi. She wants to experience so much, and she feels there’s so little time.”
“And she nearly cut that time incredibly short,” he sighed. “Maybe she’ll slow down now. Just a bit.”
Tucking her head against his shoulder he thanked God again that his mate was safe in his arms. Holden Mayhew had nearly taken her. He had nearly lost her to the depraved research the Council still hungered for.
“What now?” Isabelle asked. “Where do we go from here?”
She didn’t want to leave her family, or the Nation, he knew that. And he had no desire to take her from it.
“We already have a presence here, as well as a sub-base.” He shrugged. “I know Jonas has been looking for someone to head it. I’ve put in a request for the job.”
She sat up. Sudden, heated happiness filled his senses at the hope that brightened her eyes.
“We don’t have to leave?”
“Only when necessary,” he promised. “Only if the danger rises. But I have a feeling your family will ensure I have the help I need to protect you.”
He knew they would. She was a treasure to them, just as her sister was, and Malachi had found his own acceptance with them. Family, her father had told him. He was now a part of them.
“I love you, Malachi,” she whispered, bending to him, her hair falling around his face as she brushed her lips over his. “With all my being, I love you.”
“And I love you, Isabelle,” he swore. “You’re my breath of life. Always.”
“Always,” she breathed against his lips. “I love the sound of always, Malachi.”
Always.
The whispered promise of their hunger, their love and the dreams that had filled their lives.
It was always.
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