W-what are you doing?
Im going to hunt. I havent eaten deer in months.
There are no deer where youre from?
He glanced over his shoulder. Where I come from, we eat nutrias. Rodents bigger than small dogs. They look like mutant beavers.
Fascination stole over her as she watched him shed his clothing slowly and carefully. Emily suspected he did it on purpose to get a reaction.
She reacted.
She had seen naked men when her pack males shapeshifted into wolves. But not this beautiful. His legs were long and sturdy, his bottom taut with muscle. His broad shoulders tapered down to a lean waist and hips. Fascinated, she studied the rippling muscles of his tanned flesh. An odd marking in blue ink decorated his strong left bicepa dagger that had intricate runes like the Sacred Scian thrust through a heart.
Iridescent sparks started to shimmer around him, then faded. Arent you joining me?
A ripple of pleasure went through her. Her pack hadnt invited her to run with them in years. Emily leaned back, sipping her coffee.
I dont hunt anymore.
Why?
She fell silent, reluctant to tell him why. He seemed to struggle with a decision. His large shoulders slumped as he heaved a sigh. Ah, it wouldnt be much of a challenge. Like fishing with C-4 explosives.
Raphael waved a hand, clothing himself again. Relief swept through her, and bemusement. Most others would ignore her and pursue their hunger.
Your refrigerator should be fully stocked, she said, setting down her coffee. The Sacred Scian hung in a sheath on his belt. Emily swallowed hard.
It is, but I like the thrill of the hunt. I am, after all, a big, bad wolf.
A charming grin touched his mouth, melting her a little. He seemed friendly. Open and willing to talk with her as if she were just an ordinary Draicon.
She wasnt. Emily squeezed her hands.
Why do you wear those clothes?
He shrugged. Its what I like. I never follow other peoples style.
Style? I dont know of style, but I do know its important to be like everyone else in the pack.
So thats why you wear that sackcloth? he drawled.
Emily fingered the shapeless dun dress with its long sleeves and coarse material. Its tradition. Our people embrace traditional clothing.
She stared at the small gold dagger dangling from a loop pierced through his left ear. Our males do not wear earrings. We wear no decorations upon our bodies.
Raphael leaned against the railing. The earring is more than a decoration.
He tugged at his left ear and the tiny gold dagger dangling from it. In a flash, the golden blade on his belt vanished and appeared as a second dagger in the earring. I keep the Sacred Scian close to me at all times. The earring gives me the freedom to walk armed into places where humans forbid weapons. He flashed the charming grin again. Much better than setting off metal detectors at airports.
She felt her breath escape her as he tugged his ear again and the Scian reappeared on his belt. The sacred dagger, carried only by a Kallan, would end her life. He wore the blade as he wore his clothing, with a casual indifference that belied his role. Fear skittered through Emily. Other Kallans had been purebloods, with long robes and gray beards, and kept the Scian hidden. They revered their dress and the Scian, and ancient texts painted them as mystics. They chanted ritual words, worked spells and possessed great magick.
This Kallan was a warrior. Beneath the amused dark gaze lurked the intent of a true hunter. Raphael would not easily be fooled as she might have fooled the elderly Kallans.
Youre so cavalier with the Scian. Why do you wear it on your trousers at all? The pureblood Kallans of the past always kept it guarded in a tortoiseshell box.
Amusement fled his eyes, replaced by a flattened expression. Emily backed away, sensing the rising anger, the ruthlessness of purpose.
I wear it how I wish. Im not of your people, but I revere my role and my duties as Kallan as much as the Kallans of old. My Scian is a weapon and never leaves my sight. Id say Im much less cavalier with it than the old ones. Raphael removed the blade, flipped it into the air and sheathed it.
Weve never had a Kallan who wasnt a pureblood. Youre a mixed-blood, so different.
His jaw tightened to flint. Theres a first for everything. I worked hard to become Kallan and passed the test. Thats all your people need to know.
Sunlight glinted off the daggers fine gold hilt. Emily hedged. If he were to kill her with the blade, then she wanted to see it closer. Touch the knife that would end it all. She stretched out her gloved hands. The covering would protect the blade from contamination.
May I see the Scian? Ive never held one before.
No. His voice was curt.
Hurt, she retreated to the end of the porch. Raphael stared out at the woods. Come, Emily. Walk with me. Its time to begin your lessons.
Im not a good pupil. Anger roiled within her.
All transitions learn. Its my job to teach you, to prepare you for your journey to the Other Realm.
A journey I wont easily take, she whispered.
His gaze softened. Then lets walk, a simple walk through the woods. Show me your woods, Emily.
Given no choice, for he seemed determined to shadow her, she headed for the forest, the Kallan giving her plenty of space. Leaves drifted lazily downward, brushed by a cool wind. Emily scuffed her bare feet in the thick padding of dead leaves, moss and grass as they entered the woods. The path she used was wide enough to admit two, but Raphael trailed behind her. Sunlight filtered through the tall oaks, pines and maples. The welcoming scent of forest and earth wrapped about her senses. She breathed deeply, smiling. Here was home, a sacred place where she felt most comfortable.
Do you always go barefoot? he asked.
Its the only part of me I feel free to bare. When I can.
When they approached the small glen, she tried to quickly pass, not wanting him to investigate. But Raphael halted.
A frown creased his forehead as he gazed about. This is a sacred place, with much ancient energy. I feel a heaviness in the air as well. Its coming from over there.
She gazed in the direction of his pointing finger and her heart dropped.
No, you shouldnt.
Raphael left, heading toward the direction where hed pointed.
Dont. Its nothing you need to see, she called after him.
But as she raced forward, it was too late.
Raphael entered the small space with its uncommon quiet. No songbirds chirped here, and though the trees were not as thick, the air seemed dense.
He stood before the stone altar and touched the ancient rock with a solemn look.
Emily fisted her gloved hands. He was here to kill her. She didnt dare trust him or anyone else. Raphael was her executioner. No overtures of kindness, treating her with respect and talking with her and staving off the constant loneliness would change that.
The stone altar served as a granite barricade between them. Raphael shifted, putting a hand on his hip.
A stray beam of sunlight flashed off the solid gold dagger hilt at his waist. He caught her staring at the dagger.
Oh, Emily, he said softly.
With a strangled sob, she turned and ran blindly through the forest, away from the grim reminder of what was to come. Finally she reached the haven of her cottage. Emily squeezed her eyes shut and, with all her emotions and thoughts, called out to the one destined for her. Hed told her hed be out of reach for a few weeks, but her need was urgent.
With a strangled sob, she turned and ran blindly through the forest, away from the grim reminder of what was to come. Finally she reached the haven of her cottage. Emily squeezed her eyes shut and, with all her emotions and thoughts, called out to the one destined for her. Hed told her hed be out of reach for a few weeks, but her need was urgent.
If Amant could not help her, no one could.
Raphael walked through the forest, deeply troubled. Faint energy emitted from the stone altar where Emily would be executed to end the curse. The sight had not bothered him, but he sensed something of tremendous importance had occurred there. Yet the altar held no tinge of death or sorrow. He could not make out the energy patterns.
Pity surged through him, banishing the earlier resentment. Emily thought he wasnt as good as the other Kallans because of his mixed blood. Unworthy. Old memories flashed through him. Walking to town, to the Vieux Carre, from his simple bayou home to get supplies. Other, more pure Draicon taunting him, throwing stones and laughing.
Dog. Mongrel.
Would old prejudices against his Cajun blood never cease?
Raphael shoved aside the bitter past and concentrated on Emily. His transition came first. He must find her, get her to calm down again if they were to work together.
Amant?
The voice inside his head startled him. Raphael leaned against a tree, sighed. Erin, the time isnt right.
Please, Amant. Im sorry for intruding. I have such great need of you, otherwise Id never have contacted you. Help me.
The terror in his draicaras voice alarmed him, along with a horrible suspicion cresting over him. Raphael tried pushing back all the emotions crowding his mind, her panicked fear, his guilt that he could not attend to her needs.
If you cant come to my side, tell me what I can do. Youre a great warrior, I sense this about you, a wise one who has fought many battles. He will hurt me. Please, just advise
Who is threatening you? he demanded. Tell me and I will take my dagger and cut his heart out. I will ask my brothers, and theyll come to your aid.
You cannot stop him. No one can. He is one who is great, powerful. I cannot stop him, stop this. A sob broke out, echoed in his mind like shattering glass.
Hush, all will be well, he whispered, deeply distressed at her sorrow. How could he do this, be the Kallan and be apart from her? Time and again assignments would take him from her side, and his mate would not be his first priority. Yet every instinct inside raged to rush to her side, attend to her needs.
But Emily came first now. He must attend to her before easing Erins fears.
For years, he quietly accepted that hed never find his true mate, the missing half of his souls magick. Others fortunate enough to do so experienced joy and fulfillment. Raphael assumed like the other Kallan before him that it was not meant to be. His duties came first, and he found small comfort in that.
Now shed finally sought him out and he rejoiced inside. But merdeah, the timing. He needed all his concentration and energy directed toward Emily. His transition came first.
Erin, listen to me. Do you have a weapon nearby? A small sniffle and he could feel her pulling together all her strength. Good, he said silently, proud of her courage.
Yes, a small, sharp knife.
Take it and arm yourself. Dont fear to use it on this male. Stab him, aim for the left quadrant of his upper chest. It will nick the heart and slow him, no matter how powerful this one is. Will you do this?
I cant kill!
Hush, he soothed. You must protect yourself. It will incapacitate him. Now, get the knife.
Worry filled him as he waited. After a few minutes, he heard her in his mind. I have it. Are you certain this will work?
Yes. Where are you? Are you in a confined place, a house or building?
Is that dangerous?
Get out. Less chance of being cornered, Raphael told her.
Silence, and then he heard her speak. Im outside, near some trees. I feel safest here.
Raphael shook his head. Now, do as I say. Find your family, your people, and stay with them. Even if the one threatening you is among them, he will not dare hurt you in their presence.
Oh, Amant, she whispered, and hiccupped through her tears as if she laughed. Theyre the ones who summoned him here.
Raphaels heart dropped to his stomach. The delicious smell of lavender and wildflowers suddenly wafted on the chilling breeze. He moved away from the tree and began walking toward the scent, keeping the line of communication open telepathically as he did so.
Where are you, Erin? he asked. Tell me.
Waiting for her answer, he prowled noiselessly through the brush, entering the forest, stepping carefully as his wolf would, avoiding detection.
I cant talk. Panic threaded through her tone. Someones coming. I thinkI think its him.
Abandoning stealth, he bolted through the forest, crashing through the undergrowth, his lungs working hard, his heart racing. Now the scent flooded his senses, a ribbon of hot desire pulling him forward in senseless need. He saw her now, backed up against an ancient oak, her body lush and tempting, her eyes wide in her fine-boned face.
Raphael cut off communication from Erin as abruptly as hanging up a phone receiver. He raced forward.
Emily, he breathed.
Drawn to the female shrinking back from him, he leapt forward, trapping her against the tree with his body. He must know for certain.
Raphael pulled her to him in a crushing kiss.
Even as her lips opened under the pressure of his, he knew.
Even as his blood sang hotly in his veins and his cock grew to stone at her aroused scent, he knew.
His body screamed no, the cry echoing in his mind. Raphael pulled back in abject shock and horror. No, not her, not this one.
Emily cried out, putting a gloved hand to her lips, blue eyes wide in her delicate face. Blue eyes turning rapidly to deep violet. No! Oh, goddess, not you, it cant be.
His throat closed up. Raphael couldnt speak, though he screamed inside his head.
Emily, the one he was to execute. No safe, anonymous stranger.
But Erin, his draicara, his mate. It wasnt possible.
Barely had the thought crossed his mind when an eerie, high-pitched scream, like that of an ancient banshee, tore out of Emilys throat. Raphael heard the snicking of the knife slashing through the air. Pain exploded in his chest as the blade sank deep.
He fell forward, landing face-first on the damp, welcoming earth.