Chapter 34: Cooper
1231 Words
The office with a view of the forest has never been so full. My main lieutenants stand in front of me, erect, motionless, silent. They don’t take their eyes off me. They know that the moment is crucial.
We are going to meet Cristian Coman, the leader of the North Carolina vampire clan. And the least we can say is that his reputation precedes him. He’s a notorious old p*****t, and the number of his crimes committed during the previous two millennia would make the devil himself dizzy. We must remind him of the terms of our ancestral agreements, the main one being: not to hunt near Wolf Creek.
As I speak, my mind wanders. As soon as I realize it, I try to pull myself together, to focus all my attention on what awaits us. Our future depends on these talks, as well as the sustainability of the Bretton pack. It is also an opportunity for me to reassert my authority.
Mine say nothing, but I feel the weight of their eyes. Why did I let those three witches go? Why did I release Jaxson, rather than put him to death as he deserved? As required by our traditions? Like it was my duty to do it?
Since the departure of the girls and my brother, I have multiplied the marks of authority. Too much, probably. Misunderstanding gradually gives way to reproach in the hearts of my wolves. It’s not good. I need to put this situation right. Hoping the other packs in America didn’t catch wind of my bullshit.
Once again, I force my thoughts to refocus on the present. I get up and go around my large cluttered desk, to get closer to mine. Let them feel the strength of my presence, the weight of my authority. I’m an Alpha, damn it, their Alpha! But my gaze meets Jake’s, and I struggle not to look down. Between us still hangs the spectre of Macha.
As I am about to speak again to detail the security device that we are about to deploy, the door opens wide. At the moment, I don’t see who dares to disturb us like this, because the intruder is hidden by the tall silhouettes of my Betas. But with the murmurs that rise, I understand that there is something abnormal. Immediately, I move forward and make my way.
No, not that…
All my resolutions are shattered. My body and my heart double my reason, faced with her lunar beauty, her pale skin enhanced by a little black dress. Isn’t she cold, dressed like this? It is dark, after all, and she’s not a wolf.
"Get out."
In a heavy silence, my wolves comply. Some are dragging their feet a bit, but they end up leaving us. I can finally see Elinor, her haggard look, her too-bright eyes, her fevered cheeks...
"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask her, in a voice that is too hoarse.
In me, the desire is already there. Powerful and devastating.
She sucks the air in small gulps, and does not take her eyes off me. What if she was sick? Or injured? If… she had relapsed again? But she replies:
"I don’t know."
I frown. What does that mean?
Suddenly, she starts crying, taking me completely by surprise. Faced with this surge of emotions, my breathing stops. I have only one desire, to take her in my arms. When she finally looks at me, I stop thinking. I join her and hug her.
"I’m here," I whispered in his ear.
But what am I saying? It’s madness, all this! But Elinor clings to me, and I feel the warmth of her tears through the fabric of my shirt. She tries to move away, but with a jerk, I bring her back to me. We bump into each other, stay like that for a moment, panting.
Then I feel her hand reaching for the back of my neck, lowering my face to her, moaning at her upset expression. Her fingers grip my collar. It’s stronger than me, I’m still getting closer. So she can slide her other hand through my hair, and her closed fingers pull until our foreheads meet.
"Mark me," she whispers.
No! I throw my head back, I must not give in. I must not give in. But isn’t it already too late? No wolf has ever managed to prevent an imprint. And if I mark her, she would become...
But Elinor is not a wolf, she is a witch!
"Mark me," she repeats again, and the sound of her voice is pleading this time.
"I…I can’t."
"Why?"
"You are not… You would become…"
"I don’t care. I don’t care."
She takes me by the hand to draw me to the bench that occupies a corner of the room. Does she know how much she tortures me?
"Elinor…"
"Yes?"
"Listen."
She freezes, but her gaze is stormy. She doesn’t seem to want to wait. Me neither, but I have to tell her this…
"I love you. I felt like this the second I saw you. I have only thought of you since that moment. I…"
She stands on her tiptoes and brushes my lips with hers. A hot shiver runs down my spine. Finally, I find the use of my hands to undress her. Her white skin appears under the fabric. The dress falls to the ground, like a black, poisonous flower. My fingers caress her flesh. I will give in...
As if to reassure me, she finally speaks, shivering against me.
"I’m imprinted too, Cooper. I don’t know how it’s possible, I don’t know what will become of us, but I can’t live far from you. The past few weeks have been agony."
Overjoyed, drunk with desire, I carry her in my arms, gently laying her down on the seat. I kneel beside her, gorge myself on the vision of her body, her long hair cascading over her breasts, her eyes so clear, so transparent… And above all, above all, I see her white throat, her supple neck, and I hold myself back so as not to bite her too quickly. Don’t mark her too quickly... make sure that this moment lasts forever.
I lean over her, seek her lips, find them and drink from them. I feel that she slips her hand between us, she undid my belt. My hips contract. In one smooth movement, I take off my shirt, never letting go of her lips. She draws me to her, her hands roam my body and leave me no respite.
Taken by the brutal desire to possess her, I feel her arch under my weight. She welcomes me, and I slip into an unfathomable abyss, an abyss from which you never really come out unscathed.
"Mark me," she moaned, throwing her head back.
So I plunge my face into the crook of her neck, and I bite her. My teeth pierce her skin and I squeeze. I groan under the meteoric rise of desire. I want her. Completely and forever.
I feel his nails on my back like claws lacerating my flesh, and the song of her pleasure rises to my ears, fills all the space, and the rumble of my vocal cords joins her in a perfect counterpoint.
The metallic taste of her blood fills my mouth.
She is mine.
- Writer
