She had not been born a femwolf and therefore she had no lasting value to him.

"All of our children could be human, not just one. Don't you understand? Every time a Chrechte and a human mate, they risk not passing the wolf nature on."

"And that is so important?" she asked, but she knew it was.

Just as she'd known that being herself had never been enough for her father, Sybil or even her other siblings. Abigail was the only one who had loved Emily for who she was.

"How can you doubt it?" Lachlan demanded in a fierce tone. "We are a special race and to lose that race because we do not care enough to pass our full natures on would be wrong."

She wanted to cry, but she wouldn't. Tears did nothing but relieve some of the ache, and right now, she knew they would not even do that. He was not telling her anything surprising, only hurtful, and that pain would not leave her for a long time, if ever. Wasn't there still a corner of her heart that craved her father's love?

She could never have it either, but that did not mean she had to give up on everything. Was not a small taste of joy better than nothing at all? "You said there was pleasure you could show me without breaching my maidenhead."

"Yes." His voice sounded strangled.

She turned to face him, but did not meet his eyes. "I want that. And I want you to show me how to give you the same kind of pleasure you gave me last night."

He made a feral sound. "Emily…"

"What?" She met his eyes then, searching for she knew not what. Certainly she would not find love there, or even unconditional acceptance, but perhaps passion. "Do you not want even that much with me?"

Heat flared in his dark gaze. "Yes. Damn it. I do."

So, at least there was the passion. She was glad because she intended to use it to hide from the pain tearing apart her insides. She had never allowed herself to hide from truth, but right now she planned to do just that. She planned to pretend, for just a little while, that his passion was love.

He would never know and it could not hurt him, but she needed to feel loved just this once. She would live the rest of her life on these memories as she had clung to memories of her father's kindness before her mother's death all through her growing-up years.

Every touch would be motivated by love and a desire that matched her own, every sound would be one of acceptance for her as his lover, every response he evoked that of the beloved. She chanted the litany over and over in her head while she waited for him to kiss her.

But he did not.

He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, his touch so gentle she could barely feel it. "It's so soft, so beautiful. My wolf wanted to bury his muzzle in it last night."

She swallowed, storing the loving words in her heart as a treasure no one else could tear from her, not even Lachlan. "He can do it now if he likes."

"You don't mind?"

She shook her head, then watched in fascination as he slowly divested himself of his plaid, revealing himself to her with breathtaking sensuality. He stood before her in all his naked glory. His manhood was engorged and she felt a sense of relief that they were not going to make love completely.

No matter what he thought, they would never fit together, she was sure of it.

"Do you like what you see?" he asked.

She nodded, mute.

"But you still want to see my wolf?" Inexplicable vulnerability to her rejection shimmered in his gold-rimmed eyes.

"Yes."

Then, so fast, she had no idea how it happened, Lachlan the man became Lachlan the wolf.

She'd never seen anything so wondrous, even in her imagination. Not to pass such an ability on to his children would be a tragedy. She remembered her wonder the first time she had seen a shooting star, but this was even more glorious. How incredible that God had made a people capable of such a feat.

She felt privileged to have witnessed the secret miracle. Lachlan had given her another unique gift and she would remember it forever.

As a man, he was everything any woman could desire. As a wolf, he was utterly beautiful. His pelt was glossy black. She'd thought so last night, but moonlight wasn't reliable for revealing color. He was also huge, standing almost as tall as her, but on all fours. His eyes were the same brown with gold around the irises, but they looked sharper.

His head was big, like the rest of him, and he held himself with a regal bearing that reminded her of Lachlan the man. Just as he always had seemed more than a man, he now seemed more than a beast. Human intelligence glowed in his wolf's eyes.

He watched her intently with those eyes, as if waiting for something.

She could not think what at first, but then it occurred to her that he might be waiting for her to show she was not afraid. Was he waiting for her invitation to touch? Deciding that must be it, she dropped to her knees and put her hand out, welcoming him to come to her.

He padded across the floor, the strange noise he'd made the night before rumbling in his chest. He stopped mere inches away. She tilted her head back and he lowered his so their eyes met.

His spoke secret messages to her heart that she labeled love and a tiny curl of joy pushed some of the pain out of her heart. He licked her cheek delicately and only then did she realize she had allowed a stray tear to escape.

The same sense of connection as the night before shimmered between them and she labeled it love, pushing another chunk of pain deep into the recesses of her heart.

He butted her shoulder gently as if asking for something. She smoothed her hand over his muzzle and the top of his head. He stood still, letting her pet him until, with a small smile, she rested her hand against the side of his neck.

"You like to be touched."

He nodded his big wolf's head and then sat back on his haunches in a single graceful movement.

"I do, too," she admitted. "When you are the one doing the touching."

Did wolves smile? She thought he did because when he bared his teeth, she felt no menace from him. Then he did what he said he'd wanted to, burying his snout in her hair and inhaling deeply. The rumbling in his chest grew louder. She dug her fingers into his fur and massaged down his back. He gave a short bark of approval that made her smile.

They stayed like that a long time, him nuzzling her hair and neck and she petting him and reveling in the incredible miracle of his wolf's body. She told him how beautiful she thought he was and how amazing. The rumbling in his chest got louder until it vibrated through her body as if he was sharing his pleasure with her.

She was not a wolf, but she felt as if she were inside him and he were inside her.

Without warning, he changed again and he was on his knees facing her, his arms around her and his lips trailing a path of burning kisses from her temple to her mouth.

When he reached it, he kissed her with such sweetness, tears pricked her eyes. "Thank you for accepting my beast, Emily."

"How could I not?" she asked in genuine bewilderment. "He's a special and very wonderful part of you."

He kissed her again, his mouth harder and more insistent until she was melting against him. He pulled his mouth away from hers, but she could still feel his breath on her lips. "I think you are the wonderful one."

"But not special enough to bear your children."

They both went still. She hadn't meant to say that. It was a reality that threatened to crack the fragile shell of fantasy she had surrounded herself with. She could not allow that. She didn't want to give up this taste of joy and pleasure for a reality that could not be changed… for a reality she had known only too well for far too long.

"Please forget I said that."

"I'm sorry."

She knew he meant it; she also knew he hadn't changed his mind. "It's all right. Kiss me again. I want to feel your lips on mine." She wanted to forget the truth of their relationship and she knew, as she had the night before, that he could give her that forgetfulness.

"Gladly." And he did, the kiss going from tender to carnal in the space of heartbeats.

Whatever he did not feel for her, he wanted her as much as she wanted him and she reveled in that knowledge, feeding it to her heart in the game she played with herself until the pain was almost completely eclipsed by the pleasure.

He pulled back, breathing hard. "I want you naked, Emily."

She had no thought of demurring. They stood together in one accord and then stepped back from each other. She wasted no time taking off her tunic and then her shift, exposing her body to his scorching gaze.

In one of those lightning quick movements that still startled her, he crossed the distance between them, picked her up and carried her to the bed. He pulled the plaid away and laid her back on the furs. The softness felt incredibly good against her skin and she moaned.

He smiled wickedly and started kissing her again. He used his tongue this time and she loved it. His big body rubbed against her, increasing her ardor to a fever pitch and he had not even touched her as he had on the previous occasions.

When she was moaning over and over again and thrashing below him, he began to kiss his way down her face, stopping at the pulse beating frantically in her neck and sucking there.

Liquid heat pooled between her legs. "Lachlan."

"I am marking you," he said in guttural voice. "When others see this love bite, they will know you are mine."

She was so far into her game of make-believe that she was not sure if he actually said those words or if she had made them up in her mind, but she didn't care. He had marked her and he was rubbing his body all over hers in a way that seemed strange, but excited her, too.