Page 73 of Through Battle and Blades (The Wolf Queen 2)

The game was done, his hands landing on my skull now with a reverent gentleness, caressing my scalp even as he praised me to the very heavens themselves. I was a capable student, realising he liked, wanted, needed to be as deep inside me as possible. It took more effort now, but I forced him down, my throat muscles spasming around him and that’s when it all went mad.

His hands clawed at the arms of his chair, his hips flexing rhythmically in times with my thrusts until finally his hand slapped down on the space between my shoulder blades, keeping me perfectly still. Jet after jet of his come exploded out of him, And I greedily sucked it down, my hands working his knot until he forced me away.

I was scooped up then, his mouth on my swollen lips, his hand between my thighs, finding my pearl with little effort, because of course he did. I was his, he was mine and we could read each other without thought, if we let our instincts ride us, like they did in that moment. I panted once, twice, my body somehow primed by all of what had gone before, even though he barely touched me, and my orgasm slammed into me.

Then I was bundled up into his arms, carried over to the bed and placed under the covers, pressed into Weyland who rolled over unconsciously to hold me, even as Dane did the same from behind me.

“Sleep, Darcy,” Dane said, sending those waves of comfort rushing through me. “You’ve given me everything tonight, but now you must sleep.”

37

I couldn’t do this.

We were standing in the training yard of the Strelan army barracks and I was looking down the line of men they’d assembled. All soldiers, good men to have at your back, I was assured. Their merits as fighters were nothing to me. They were nothing to me. Nothing but men that eyed me as I walked down the line. They did so with suspicion, with need, but not for me. For what I was supposed to give them.

“I have no idea how to do this, General Rath,” I told the man walking beside me. “I don’t even know how I did it the first time.”

“Perhaps we should bring the men the Lady Darcy changed out?” Rath’s aide-de-camp said. “That might help.”

Rath was ready to agree to that, but I shook my head.

“It won’t.” I stepped backwards, seeing the men’s eyes harden now and I knew why. They were all fierce warriors, ready to lay down their lives to protect their country from a dire threat, and they just needed one more thing to help them do that.

Something only I could give them.

My eyes raked over the gathered men – the soldiers, the general, his staff, and everyone else here – and it felt like all I could see was thinly veiled disappointment.

“This was always going to be a difficult task,” Dane said, placing a hand on my shoulder and giving it a squeeze. “Father would love you to have the ability to transform every man he points a stick at into wargen.”

I blinked, seeing Callum and his Reavers in my mind for a split second.

“Like Prince Callum can.” I swallowed, trying to dislodge the huge lump that had suddenly formed in my throat. “He must be doing that now, with every man, boy, he gets his hands on.” My eyelids fluttered, my eyes aching as I saw Del in my mind’s eye.

“I’m sure he is,” Rath said with a tight smile. “But focussing on what whoever is leading the Reavers can do will not help us here.” He turned to his aide. “Dismiss the men and bring out several of the newly two-souled. We need to ascertain what was done at Aramoor before we can seek to replicate it.”

The man nodded and then ordered the line of men away. I felt a brief moment of relief, no longer being subjected to their intrusive glare, but that didn’t last. A much deeper sense of guilt followed hot on its heels.

“Come,” Rath commanded, indicating we should follow him. We walked through the training grounds, saw human soldiers and two-souled fighting together in a series of carefully orchestrated bouts, designed to build those instincts needed in battle. “There’s someone I think you might like to see.”

The fighters grew smaller, younger as we walked, as they were obviously training their squires and other young lads, just as I had done at their age. I smiled a little, seeing the way the boys fought earnestly, full of a desire to prove themselves that I knew all too well. Rath, seeming to sense my shift in mood, stopped where he was and we watched two boys spar.

One was a big lad, and he seemed cocky with that advantage, smirking down at his opponent after he knocked the smaller boy’s attacks away with his superior reach.

“Give up, Owen!” the bigger boy sneered and the other lads who’d clustered around to watch jeered with him in a way I knew all too well.

Humans might not have a wolf soul, but we liked pack behaviour all too well. Ganging up on the weak, supporting the strong, right up until the point they also showed their soft side, then turning on them too. Perhaps it was that, having been set upon, being excluded, which had me striding forward, even as my mates called out to me. I weaved my way through the boys, and they parted for me in surprise at first, then curiosity. I could hear a rapid susurration of whispers and asides, but I focussed on just one boy, Owen.

“Owen, is it?” I asked, thrusting out a hand.

“Yes, milady,” he said, sketching me the briefest of bows, but his eyes slid back to his opponent and those were good instincts.

“I’m Darcy. You want to put that big bastard on his arse, don’t you?”

His eyes jerked up then, gleaming a pure grey blue. He studied my face like it was a sacred text to be worshipped or that could grant wisdom that he sought desperately, and then nodded sharply.

“He’s an arrogant prick, because of his size. I bet he shot up faster than all you other boys and he’s lorded it over you every day since.”

I got another nod at that.

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