Page 33 of Fangs for the Memories
Grace is not to be rushed, that much I know. She hurts, from the way her former human partner has treated her and all which has happened to her since she came into my orbit.
I have the familiar buzz alcohol gives any werewolf. We can’t get drunk, but it takes the edge off on occasions. I watch as Grace’s chest rises and falls. I hear her heart beat, the blood rushing through her veins, and I muse on how last night, I did the same thing.
If not for the same reason.
Grace is mine now, even if she doesn’t yet know it. Whatever happened to her before, it matters not. She is my mate. I cannot let her go.
I will not let anything harm her, monster or human.
Pulling out my phone, I scroll through all the messages I’ve been receiving, which includes several voicemails from my mother, ones I delete straight away. There is a single message from my father asking me to call him.
He was once pack leader, until I challenged him and beat him in fair combat. As he was my father, I wasn’t expected to kill him, although there are times I wish I had. He has remained on the fringes of the pack, sniping and meddling.
My mother was part of a forced mating, a practice which belonged in the past and one I outlawed the instant I took over as pack alpha. She welcomed her release from my father, even if it hasn’t stopped her from her own type of meddling, born from her desperation I have pups to maintain my line.
I always knew if I mated, it would be because of fate, not because of duty.
I glance over at Grace again, then I reach down and remove my shoes before padding around to the other side of the bed, climbing on, and lying down next to her.
My cock is somewhat insistent with its arousal, being so close to her. It’s never exactly been patient, but on this occasion, it will have to wait.
And I’m not used to waiting for anything.
I switch out the light and lie in the dark, watching the shadows of the city flicker over the ceiling.
Then I fall into a deep sleep, the likes of which I don’t think I’ve ever had before.
Grace
There’s something heavy on my waist, and as I blink away sleep, I’m confused by the room I’m in and the scent which surrounds me.
Not so much by the soft snore behind me.
I didn’t…did I?
A swift hand on my front confirms I’m still dressed, which is both a positive and negative. The same check discovers a large hand, attached to an even larger arm draped over my side.
With infinite care, I slowly turn over. The hand doesn’t move, and if anything, I think the arm is heavier.
It’s attached to Ferenc. The huge werewolf in my bed.
Or rather his bed. And how do I know it’s his bed? Because of the massive boner I’ve just accidentally rolled onto.
Fucking hell, he is huge. I absolutely wasn’t dreaming about what I saw in the bathroom yesterday.
Admittedly, I was dreaming about him earlier though, terrible, dirty dreams which I amnotgoing to think about. Instead I attempt a sideways shuffle to get away from his…thing.
“If you keep moving like that, I will not be responsible for my actions, Grace,” Ferenc murmurs in a gravel filled, accented voice, his eyes still closed.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” I gabble out, still wriggling to get away, despite his warning.
I should have heeded the warning. The next thing I know, I’m pinned under his vast bulk, my wrists enclosed in his huge hands and a pair of dark, hungry eyes fixed on my face.
I can’t move. His massive erection is pressing against me, albeit through several layers of fabric, but I can feel every single inch.
“Mornings are for mating,” Ferenc rasps.
I stare up at him, not quite sure what he means.
