Page 52 of Fated Exile

Finn squeezes my hand and kisses my cheek. "We've got this."

Then he draws away from me and shifts into his wolf, taking a few steps and shaking off his fur. I find myself gazing at his large, shaggy black form, the splatter of white on his chest marking him, his eyes blinking silver at me. The paws that dig into the stones are tipped with claws that just scratched at my skin in pleasure, and I swear that he's somehow grinning at me.

Swallowing, I look over at Roarke. He meets my gaze with his crystal blue eyes, which are full of support, and only a sliver of concern. Smiling at me, he nods sharply.

"It's time."

I take a deep breath.

Close my eyes.

And shift.

Twenty-One

Delilah

My wolf comes to me between the beats of my heart. She settles onto my body like a second skin, changing and reflowing every inch of me. Fur sprouts, paws form, bones realign themselves, so that an instant after it occurs to me to shift, I'm standing on all fours on the ancient stones of the Mating Circle, next to Finn's wolf.

Around us, the tatters of our clothing swirl in the wind. It's like those old legends about werewolves ripping their clothes off when they shift. But instead of feeling naked and exposed, I feel strong and alive.

Stretching my legs, I shake my wolf fur and trot forward, feeling the rippling movement of every muscle. The pack is crowding closer now, the torches burning high, curious and wary faces watching me. Waiting for the tragic, the inevitable, the curse.

I can feel it, too. The curse magic is a thick miasma in the air. It curls towards me and prods at my skin, looking for a way in. It smells like ozone and feels like an oily film. The noxious feel of it crawls across me, and I know that it's taken out dozens, hundreds of girls and women just like me, striking them down in the prime of their life and stealing their power away for Delphine.

But it doesn't have any effect on me. Though my skin crawls and my lip twitches, teeth baring and a growl rumbling in my throat, I shake it off. The curse magic slinks away like a stray dog with its tail between its legs. As quickly as it came, it leaves again.

Strong and untouched, I trot up the platform next to the pack flame, tilt my head up, and howl into the night sky. My voice rises and undulates in the cooling air, the moon shining down on my white fur. A moment passes, and a second voice joins me: yipping with glee and crooning up and down the scales, it's Finn with his head tilted back and his teeth bared.

One by one, others in the pack shift as well and lift their voices in feral song. The fur on my back and tail stands on end as they join their voices to mine. Low and deep, high and strong, each has their own rhythm and note. We howl together, taking sharp breaths in and letting note after note peel out of us. It feels feral and free, making the blood race in my veins with a life and energy I haven't felt before.

When I'm winded and I feel it's been long enough, I let the last note of my howl go, and survey the pack. Most of them are still howling, some dancing on their feet, others whirling around to snap at the air and bite their tails. A few wolves rub shoulders together; others nose each other with love and excitement. Tails wriggle excitedly, and paws dig into the ground, which finally feels firm beneath our feet.

I descend the platform and join Finn again. He breaks off from singing a silly peel of yipping notes to bump his head against mine and nudge my chin with his nose in an insistent demand for attention. Grumbling, I whirl around and nip at his shoulder, tugging a playful tuft of black fur from his hide. He huffs in annoyance and pushes his shoulder against me until my paws go sliding beneath me, the ancient stone turning to slippery glass as I lose my purchase.

Then I'm laughing, the sound strange and wobbly from my wolf mouth and tongue. We both let up for a moment and just stand next to each other, calm and still as the pack slowly settles and lets go of their jubilation.

Reaching out to Finn, I make a wry comment through our connection,I don't think I've ever seen them this happy about a mate bond. I think they're happier than I felt when you made me come... both times.

Think of it as a preview to come.There's warmth in his voice. He slides his tail against mine, pinning his ears back and waggling his black brows. I huff.Who do you think is next, Kieran or Roarke?

Why those two? It could be Bastian.

I figured we were going in order of penis size.He winks at me, the expression comical on a wolf's face.Don't worry, they were asleep when I measured.

I roll my eyes at his joke and stomp on his paw with mine playfully.Hush. I know you didn't, and we both know things like that don't matter.

Don't they? Hmm, I suppose you're right.

Exactly.It's my turn to wink at him.After all, just because you were the first and smallest doesn't mean you're insignificant.

Finn laughs at this, the sound both a human one inside my head, and a wolfish yip in the real world. Around us, the pack members are shifting back to human form, and I can sense the anticipation in the air. It's time for the next mating ceremony—only this time, one of the mates will be someone new, and the other won't be. Because the next mating ceremony is once again, one with me.

Without even a moment of hesitation, Finn shifts back to his human form, completely uncaring that he's standing stark naked in the middle of a circle full of clothed people. Of course, he reallyshouldn'tcare—the pack doesn't care, and if the scent lingering in the air and messiness of some of the clothing I can see is any indication, some of them have already got some.

While mated female werewolves in the pack have all died from the curse, that hasn't stopped a few non-mated pairs, including a handful of chipped females whose presence surprised me when I first found out. And there are of course a handful of gay couples in the pack, as well as a few odd human-werewolf pairings and older couples past their reproduction years. Delphine created the curse to take power for herself so she could live long, which meant draining from the young and youthful; once a female hits menopause, she's safe.

That means about half the pack members watching us are unmated young males, and there's an electric energy to them now. They've seen me mate, taken in snatches of the sight of Finn making love to me even if they didn't all watch the whole thing, and then they saw me shift into a wolf. Now I'm standing here, in wolf form and still alive. They want to see the rest with their own eyes—which means shifting back to human and letting them see my unharmed body, so they can know there's finally going to be an end to this.

---