Bound To Moonlight (Sisters Of The Moon #2)

His eyes opened, and he started moving inside her, shoving in and out of her slick heat, his hands holding her firmly in place, his lips playing over her breasts, her face.

The speed increased until it was wilder than she could have ever imagined, and Anya gave herself up to the emotions flooding her, focused only on the point where his big body ground itself into hers. The pressure was building again, she never wanted it to stop, but she desperately needed some sort of release. He thrust into her then ground his hips against her core. Her lips parted in a scream as she tumbled headlong over the edge. She fought for a moment, but then gave in to the waves and waves of pleasure that washed over her.

He came with her, and even through the pleasure, she felt him pulse as his seed spilled inside her. His head went back and he howled.



Sebastian carried her through the silent building, back to her room, where he lowered her onto the bed.

He lay down beside her, he was already hard again, and she pressed against him. Framing her face with his hands, he stared down into her eyes.

“I love you,” he said.

His words melted something deep inside her, wiping away the betrayals of the past. Anya wanted so much to respond, and she could see the expectation in his eyes. But how could she say the words when she knew she was going to leave him. It seemed like the ultimate betrayal, and her words of love lodged in her throat. She bit her lip then forced her mouth into the curve of a smile.

“I’m glad I didn’t shoot you,” she murmured.

Disappointment flickered in his eyes, followed by understanding. “So am I.”

He kissed her then, and slowly pushed inside her, filling her completely. This time, they made love with a slow delicious eroticism that left her shaking against him.

Wrapping her in his arms, he pulled her close and together they drifted into sleep.

***

Sebastian didn’t know how long he had slept, and he cursed. He didn’t want to waste any of their precious time together. Rolling onto his side, he reached for Anya.

She lay at the edge of the bed, far away from him. He shook her lightly, but she didn’t wake. Her skin was scorching to the touch, and a sheen of sweat coated her pale face. Panic flared to life. He shook her, harder this time. She moaned but her eyes remained closed.

Sebastian threw back his head and screamed into the night. “No!”





Chapter Twelve





He’d run through the dark city streets, careless of who might see him. Run until his wolf was exhausted then slunk back, the need to be close to Anya driving him on.

He knew what he had to do, and the fear tore at his insides.

He shifted in the alley at the rear of the building, picked up his clothes where he’d dropped them, and let himself in. He found Tasha waiting for him in the foyer. Sebastian made to walk past her, but she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“You know it’s the only way,” Tasha said.

He shook off her hand. “Why don’t you do it, then?” he snarled.

“You’re the strongest of us. You’ll give her the best chance. Please, Sebastian.”

He paced the foyer, fighting down the nausea that churned in his gut.

“Why are you so scared?” Tasha asked.

He realized he was still naked and pulled his pants on, more to give himself a moment to think than from any sense of modesty. He dropped the rest of his clothes on the floor and came to stand in front of her. “Do you know how many humans survive the bite?”

She nodded. “Not many, but there’s more to it than that. I know there is. Anya is dying—this might be her one chance.” She studied him for a moment, and Sebastian winced at the compassion in her eyes. “The other wolves told me you’ve never turned anybody,” she said. “Why? What happened, Sebastian?”

Sebastian sighed. He knew he was going to attempt it. He couldn’t stand by, watch Anya die, however much he feared the consequences. But Tasha deserved to know the risks.

“I was twenty-eight when I was bitten, and I’d been married less than a year.” He paused, remembering back; it was over fifty years ago now. “We were in love. I wanted her with me in every way. So I bit her.”

“She died?”

“No, she didn’t die. She went insane.” He forced himself to go on. “I hadn’t asked her if she wanted it, I thought—” He broke off. What had he thought? That she loved him enough to take any risk? He shook his head. “In her lucid moments, she cursed me, said I’d turned her into a monster. She was pregnant, I didn’t know, but when she lost the baby, it tipped her over the edge. She became uncontrollable, dangerous.”

“What happened?”

“I killed her. I put her down like a rabid dog, and I swore I would never do that to anyone again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”

“Anya isn’t your wife. I survived and genetically we’re the same. She’ll survive. I know she will.”

“Let’s hope so.” He turned away and headed up the stairs.