Lucy Monroe - Moon Awakening

Emily reached out and touched Lachlan's head. "You are beautiful." She trailed her fingers through the fur of his neck and down his back. "And your fur, it is soft. Oh, Lachlan… this is such a wondrous thing that you are."

A rumbling sound came from his chest. It was not a sound he'd ever made before. But then he had never known this pleasure. It was beyond physical mating… it was a happiness deep inside that his mate accepted and approved of all that he was. But she was not his mate. He had to remember.

The rumbling stopped, but the sense of pleasure did not.

He licked her, right between her breasts. He wanted to lick her all over, to taste her with his heightened wolf's senses and imprint all that she was on his memory forever.

She gasped, her hands stilling.

He buried his head in her lap lest he do it again and disgust her. Her feminine scent reached him through the blankets and tormented him with the desire to change and claim her for his own.

"Is it supposed to feel like that?" she asked in a quiet, shaken voice.

He raised his head to look into her eyes, willing her to explain because he could not speak and he could not risk making the change to ask what she meant.

"It felt like magic… I don't know how to explain it. Like heat, but it wasn't hot… like something fizzled along my skin. You know how the bubbly water from some springs shimmers in your mouth like moving droplets from a waterfall? Oh, I'm making a hash of this. But when you licked me, I felt something more than your tongue on my skin."

He did not know what she was talking about, but he understood one thing. She was not repelled by his action.

He nuzzled her with his head in gratitude.

"Is it all right that I liked it?"

He lifted his head and nodded, then did it again, to make sure she understood his approval.

This time she moaned and it was even harder to force his head into her lap a second time, but he could not allow himself to do what he so desperately wanted to. Besides, she might tolerate one lick, but could she accept more? She was human and he could not forget that important fact.

She scratched behind his ears, her silent approval an incredible gift. What human woman would not scream in fright from a wolf so close? But not Emily. She liked Lachlan's wolf. Had Talorc told her the secrets of the Chrechte? More likely it had been Cait. He would ask Drustan, but Emily was far too accepting for a human who knew nothing of their people. She was too accepting for a human woman at all. It made no sense, especially to his wolf's brain.

"If I lie down…" She stopped, her hesitation palpable.

What was she going to say? Did she want him to leave?

"Will you lie beside me and share your magic for just this night? Please, Lachlan. Just this once?"

His head jerked up. He could not believe what she had asked. It was what his wolf craved, he realized, even more than mating… the closeness of sharing. If only for just one night.

Her smile was bittersweet. "You are amazing. I will never again experience anything like what I feel with you now. I know that my time with your clan is limited and I will probably never see you in this form again after tonight. Will you stay with me until I sleep, so that in the morning I will believe it was a dream and not yearn for what I can never have?"

Even if he had been in human form, he would not have been able to speak. She said he was amazing, but it was she who was incredible.

He nodded slowly.

She smiled, her eyes shimmering with emotion. "Thank you."

Lying down, she pulled the plaid up to once again cover her modestly. Then, she scooted back toward the wall, making as much room on the small bed for his big wolf's body as she could. He jumped onto the bed and then lay down beside her, his muzzle resting on his forepaws.

She curled an arm over his neck and nuzzled into it with her face. He had never known such contentment, even with the unsatisfied lust making his blood run hotter than lava.

"You do not smell like a dog. I would have thought a wolf would smell like a canine," she said drowsily some minutes later. "But you smell like yourself. It is a fragrance I will never forget."

She fell asleep moments later.

Making no effort to sleep, Lachlan lay listening to her breathe and inhaling her sweet fragrance. Her arm stayed wrapped around him as if she wanted to hold her to him, even in her sleep. The temptation to stay was so strong, he almost gave in to it, but as the sun rose, he crept from the bed. He was careful not to wake her, knowing that if she asked for anything in that sweetly husky voice, he was likely to give it to her.

A few minutes later he had changed to his human form on the landing and then run to his room at full speed so as not to be seen. The bed that had been his own for more than ten years felt lonely for the first time as he fell on top of the furs that covered it.

But as tired as he was, he did not fall asleep immediately. The rocklike hardness of his erection would not allow it. Thinking of Emily's innocent face in repose did not help and when he finally did sleep, he dreamed of her… large with his child, smiling and laughing as she swam in the loch, no fear anywhere on her face.

He woke from the dream, an ache in the vicinity of his heart, a few hours later.

He dismissed that ache right along with the desire to see her. He had work to do, reports to hear, soldier training to oversee, and he needed to talk to Drustan. Prior to the evening meal the night before, one of the femwolves had reported that she had spotted a strange gray werewolf near the loch the day before. Lachlan was sure it was Talorc, or one of his well-trained elite guard.

Lachlan had smelled nothing when he had gone to the loch with Emily. Either the wolf had not been there, or he was very good at masking his scent. If it was Talorc, he was spying… but to what purpose? To check on the welfare of his sister, or to try to take her back? If he'd wanted to speak to Cait, he would have made himself known when she and Emily went to the loch. Unless he did not trust Emily with the knowledge of his presence.

Or had he? The night before, when Lachlan had asked Emily if she had seen a wild animal, she had said only if he counted a laird such a thing. Talorc was also a laird and Emily knew of their wolf nature. Had she been trying to avoid answering his question with a clever ploy, or had she not seen anything, as he had assumed?

Lachlan needed to speak to Drustan and then he would seek Emily out and discover the truth of the matter for himself.

Emily kneaded the big ball of dough while she listened to the kitchen helpers' gossip. She'd woken early, alone in her bed, but the scent of Lachlan had clung to the plaid. Even without that, she would not have been able to convince herself he had been a dream. As unreal as the events of the night should have been, her memory of it was as solid as those she had of her family.

And she had the inescapable feeling that he was now as much a part of her as they were.

She could leave the Balmoral clan, but she would never leave him behind completely. He would live in her heart through eternity. How much less complicated her life would have been if she had felt this way about Talorc on first sight, instead of the deep certainty that she did not belong with him.

What a muddle.

Why had Lachlan come to her, as a wolf no less? She'd been asking herself that question over and over again all morning and she still could not come up with a single reasonable answer. Except that maybe his wolf's instincts had led him there because of what had happened between them just before she went to bed. Even if that was the case, such an action exhibited a level of trust she knew the man could not have for her.

Yet, he had come to her as a wolf. He'd let her touch him, pet him, and he had kissed her like a wolf kisses. Then he had lain beside her until she slept. Probably longer.

She still did not understand what she had felt when his tongue caressed her skin, but it had been extraordinary. As singular an experience as the explosion of pleasure he had brought about in her body earlier, but quite different from it as well. It had not been sexual… or at least not entirely so. It had felt good, but it had also felt… bizarre.

As if part of his life force was mingling with her own.

And yet, just as he'd said he would not… he had not come to collect her for a swimming lesson. It was as if the night before had not mattered to him at all. Perhaps he had not felt the connection she had felt.

"I think that dough is done, lass," one of the older women said to Emily.

She started and looked down. The white mass did indeed look sufficiently kneaded. She patted it into shape and set it aside before taking another ball of dough and placing it on the work space in front of her. She punched it down from its first rising with more than necessary force.

She did not understand him, not one little bit. First he said she meant nothing to him and implied she was a nuisance, then he touched her like a lover. He'd been so careful with her when he carried her up the stairs after giving her the ultimate in pleasure. Like she mattered… only he said she didn't.

Then… then … he had come to her as a wolf. That was the most inexplicable thing of all. She hit the ball of dough again with her curled fist even though all it needed now was to be folded in on itself a few times.

"I told Marta not to assign you household chores."