The Lycan's Lady

The Human Bride

Over at Ravenswood's Moor. Lady Gwendolyn writhed shamelessly beneath Tristan's expert touch, her ivory skin flushed.

"Just take me, you beast!" she whined impatiently, arching against his questing fingers like a cat in heat.

Tristan's wicked grin promised delicious torment as he trailed maddeningly slowly down her silken folds. "Such desperation, my lady. And we've scarcely begun our night's revels."

Gwendolyn cried out blissfully as his fingertip slipped easily into her molten heat. "God's eyes, yes! Keep going, I beg of you..."

Head bent to lavish her rosy n*****s, Tristan circled her slick pearl with skilled strokes, drinking in her helpless whimpers like the finest Rhenish wine.

So lost in rapture was the young maiden, she was oblivious to the massive shadow looming in the doorway. Only when a feral growl like rolling thunder shattered the air did she freeze in heart-stopped terror.

An iron-furred beast easily seven feet tall towered before them, lip curled in a silent snarl. Tristan sighed resignedly, slowly removing his fingers from Gwendolyn's warmth.

"Hello, brother. Quite... an interruption"

In a blink, the fearsome wolf contorted, bones crunching sickeningly as it reshaped into the imposing, naked figure of Malcolm Ravenswood. His chiseled features were locked in an expression of primal fury.

"Tristan. What a surprise to find you...debauching another helpless village maiden." His steel grey eyes glinted with an inner fire.

Undaunted, Tristan smirked as he slid from the rumpled bed, leaving poor Gwendolyn flushed and tousled.

"Helpless? Nay, I'd wager our delicate flower was more than willing to pluck this night." He cast an appraising glance over Gwendolyn's form as she frantically clutched the bedsheets over her nakedness.

"Perhaps you ought try it sometime instead of skulking about like a right beast, dear brother."

Before Malcolm could retort, Gwendolyn gathered what tattered remained of her dignity and fled the room in a horrified flurry, skirts askew. Tristan chuckled darkly at her retreating form.

"Was it something I said?"

Malcolm cut off his amusement with a brusque bark. "Where were you today when those damnable hunters set upon me?"

Tristan's gaze sharpened as he noted the sluggish trickle of blood from his brother's shoulder, the rent flesh already knitting.

"Out." He waved a dismissive hand. "More importantly - what sorry bastards thought to tangle with an Alpha and lived to boast of it?"

Malcolm waved a dismissive hand. "Mere hunters, unaware."

Tristan arched one skeptical brow. "The almighty Alpha, felled by mere hunters? And you fled like a babe in the woods?"

Malcolm's scowl deepened, jaws clenched at the implication. "Harmless village folk, wielding primitive guns. They knew not what I truly am." His tone took on a dangerous edge. "Unlike some, I've no desire to draw unwanted attention to our kind."

Shaking his head in disappointment, Tristan tsked. "A true wolf warrior would have made those pitiful curs aware. Put them firmly in their place."

Unfazed, Malcolm replied, "But that's not why I sought you out this eve..."

Those piercing grey eyes bored into Tristan's with simmering intensity. "I've found her, Tristan. My mate."

The words hung heavy in the air. Tristan felt his mouth go dry despite his cavalier facade. He coughed to cover his shock.

"You're...certain of this? 'Tisn't merely the moon's addlings upon your senses?"

A curt nod.

A smirk played on Tristan's lips. "And how do you know this mysterious vixen is the one? Did the stars align or the heavens open up to reveal a sign?"

"On the hunt, my wolf's pelt blazed brilliant crimson before her gaze. An unmistakable sign from the Goddess herself that she's the one."

Tristan raked his fingers through his disheveled hair, letting out a low whistle. "If you speak true, then this calls for revelry!" He clapped his brother's good shoulder heartily. "Once you've claimed your mate, we can return to the Highland-- end this wretched long exile!"

But the confident smirk fell from Malcolm's lips. "There's a...complication, Tristan. She's no shapeshifter lass. Merely a human woman, Tristan. Newly betrothed to another by the morrow's end."

Tristan felt the ground shift beneath his feet as the meaning struck home. "Impossible... You're fated to be mated to a mere mortal?" He raked agitated fingers through his wild raven waves, struggling to make sense of it. Surely this cannot be...". Unprecedented in their clan's centuries-old history.

Even with his often cavalier dismissal of hidebound pack traditions, this notion struck at the very core of what Tristan understood about their kind's indelible metaphysical laws.

"You were not present to witness the sign, little brother. The truth was revealed to me in a manner that cannot be denied or open to interpretation." One corded hand reflexively rubbed his chest, just over the steadily thrumming heart. "During the hunt, my true wolf's pelt blazed brilliant crimson before her gaze alone. An unmistakable sign from the Mother Goddess that this human woman is to be my eternal mate."

Clearing his throat, Tristan struggled to make light of the profundity rattling his bones. "Well, it seems the Goddess has a perverse sense of amusement to challenge her most exemplary Alpha with such an...unorthodox match." He forced a wry chuckle that sounded brittle, even to his own ears. "Perhaps she's finally developed a whimsical streak in her old age?"

The flippant jest earned him a low, reverberating growl of warning. Reflexively, Tristan averted his gaze, recognizing the foolishness of carelessly provoking the Alpha. Especially concerning matters of such cosmic gravity as this.

When Malcolm spoke again, his words were etched with a solemnity befitting the weight of their sacred traditions. "Regardless of your reservations, we must proceed according to the Mother's immutable will in this matter. No matter the...complications that may arise." His tone took on a foreboding timbre, causing Tristan's hackles to prickle instinctively.

"Such as?" The younger wolf arched one dark brow in wary challenge.

"I cannot stand idly by and allow this forced marriage to proceed."

"Well, that's a spectacularly messy fucknest," Tristan couldn't resist muttering under his breath. He shifted uneasily. "I see you aim to put a stop to this...merger, and claim your destined mate as is your right. And I take it you want me to lend my...particular talents to this delicate undertaking?"

Malcolm leveled his searing gaze fully upon Tristan's. "Sure. I'll need your assistance in putting an end to this farce before it can proceed..."

"Now hold on just a moment, brother," Tristan countered, raising one hand in a placating gesture. "Crashing some little human wedding ceremony? Surely you don't mean to make such a brazen spectacle?"

Malcolm's intense stare did not waver. "I mean to do whatever is required to claim what is rightfully mine by sacred law. You know as well as I the reproachful fate that awaits any Alpha who refuses to accept their fated mate."

"You cannot be serious..." he muttered, raking his fingers through his disheveled raven locks. "Does our isolation these past centuries mean so little to you? One rash act in front of the mortals and our kind could be exposed, hunted to extinction!"

"Which is why I require your discretion and assistance," Malcolm stated flatly. "If this...complication is handled properly, no one beyond the ceremony's participants need ever know what transpired. Our secret would remain intact."

A sly grin played about Tristan's lips. "Now see here, brother - Much as I'd relish the prospect, I've another rather more...personal dalliance scheduled around that same hour. One I've no intention of postponing for propriety's sake."

Malcolm's eyes flashed dangerously. "This matter isn't a request, little brother. It's an order from your Alpha - we intervene. You know what's at stake should I not claim her. And we do that whatever the cost."

With a defeated sigh, Tristan swept a mocking bow as familiar fire danced in his eyes. "As you command...Alpha."

The words tasted like bitter ashes on his tongue.

"To defy you would be to risk being rendered an Omega forever - a fate arguably worse than death for one of our kind." He murmured.