Lunar Light reached the Top Ten in the Romance category in iBooks UK (#4), was in the top 1,000 in the Nook eStore, and has remained on the Kindle UK Bestseller list in the Romance > Paranormal Category for two months now.
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If you dislike sexual or violent content stop reading here and read about my Bestselling Rae Wilder Series instead :)
I leaned up and licked his jaw. The wild taste of him had my stomach contracting painfully. Suddenly, I battled the carnal and almost irresistible urge to sink my teeth into him. Shame cut into the passion and I felt my face and heart sink at my own wickedness.
“Yes,” he rasped and mashed his lips against mine, sucked my tongue into his mouth. “Bite me. Shift with me.”
He pulled back to grind deeper and sank his teeth into swell of my breast. Pleasure radiated from the bite, and he closed his entire mouth around my nipple and sucked. My eyes pressed closed at the sensation that rolled across my chest from the spot and I squirmed. His hand cupped the nape of my neck and pulled my head up to his chest, pressing gently, urging.
This was okay? I could do this and not hurt him?
The realization he could take what I dished out had a new intensity surging through me, and tightening every pore of my being with need and hope.
A brief rub with my lips at his collarbone, the lightest of touches with the tip of my tongue … then I opened my mouth wide and sank my teeth into him. My eyes flew open as his blood gushed down my throat.
Shuddering and growling, Luke thrust forward one last time and I broke, back arching off the floor and nails digging into his lower back. As I screamed the first spasms of the shift ripped through my body and my spines slammed out. The pain was glorious, amplifying every sensation to the point of bliss. Luke snarled above me; pupils dilating, body convulsing, and his canines descending into twin sabers. He was still hard and inside of me, hips bucking. I scratched at his back and thrashed my head – the assault of feeling too much to control. I shifted fully first and pushed him off me. His own change completed as he sailed through the air and by the time his paws hit the floor he was the menacing Wendigo I remembered, except now I was in beast form too.
Luke was huge, at least nine feet tall and was built. Bands of muscle bulged across his pectorals and abs. His waist wasn’t as narrow as mine and was less feminine. Nothing about him was womanly. He was one long and hard slab of muscle. His skin tone was warmer than mine, and a beautiful blend of deep blue and mottled indigo. His hair seemed even darker and his eyes were inky puddles of curiosity. His paws were huge, even with his heels lifted off the floor. Two of my prints could fit into his. He paced forward, the sharp black claws on his hands flexing. He circled me and rubbed himself into my back. His tongue snaked out to slide over the pulse point on my neck. His Wendigo was coming forward making his movements wilder and more intuitive. I pushed him away, my nose stuck up in the air. He tried to touch me and I snarled, batted his hand away. He bristled, but backed away. Satisfied he got the message I sniffed then breathed in and my head snapped round.
Blood. I smelt blood and fear. My stomach rumbled like thunder and my mouth watered. Hungry.
The Wendigo waited for me to take the lead, years of Clan life guiding his actions. What really irked me was that even now I could see and sense Luke behind this Wendigo. The way he looked at me, cocked his head, and leaned back on his heel. Even his facial expressions were Luke’s. He was still there, present even though his Wendigo was free.
I got irritated with my own beast that screamed at me to let her out. I shook my head. Not yet. The Wendiga couldn’t take over yet. I wasn’t ready.
I picked up the trail in moments. My nostrils flared and the smell of sweat and fear saturated the air and was like an arrow to our quarry. My heart started to pound and my mouth dried. My stomach contracted painfully and I shifted on the spot, short-tempered. I clung on mentally, clutching onto my human thoughts by proverbial fingernails.
My Wendiga growled in disapproval and repeatedly slammed at the door, demanding to be let free.
Luke brushed up against me again and his claws raked across my hip, drawing blood, but my skin healed over instantly. He sniffed at my neck and his tongue lapped at shoulder. It seemed he liked licking me.
I snarled and snapped at him, again warning him to take it easy. He rumbled and it was almost a laugh.
My nostrils flared as I scented the fear again and I slinked forward, no longer caring that I was falling into that hazy place where I had no control. We needed to control this threat and I needed to feed.
Luke bolted in front of me, hot on the trail and for a moment I stood stunned as he blazed passed, flowing across the land as if he owned it. I waited for the rage and possession to flood over me for this invading Wendigo to think he could lead the chase on my land, my territory, but there was nothing but excitement and the urge to play. My Wendiga was happy he was here and wanted to follow after him. Obliging her I started after him. I’d been running less than a mile – following the scent of death and storms – before I came across Luke already on our prey, holding him down by the throat.
With a low growl I cocked my head at him, wondering why he had stopped. He beckoned to me with a jerk of his head and a low purr.
The man on the floor writhed and cried out pitifully. Acting just like the wounded victim he was and it shredded the last of my control.
Blood pounded through my veins and my vision blinkered. I was sucked backward and pulled under even as something wild and ferocious pushed past and clambered up. My Wendiga ripped down the door that I was no longer holding closed and flooded my senses.
My world became chaos. Screams. Blood. Terror. It was intoxicating. It was always this way and only did I get a vague sense of satisfaction as my Wendiga prowled around playing her sick and twisted games. I was trapped in my own body, a slave to her beastly nature. Forced to endure her cruelty and malice to feel the after effects of her bloody sport in the hidden corner of my mind I was bound to.
Something shifted suddenly as I saw a glint of light in the darkness. Someone called my name, firm and commanding. Luke? There! My name was called again, but fainter this time. I lurched forward into the light, panicked that it would be smothered and I would be alone in the dark. Already it flickered as the Wendiga tried to snuff it out so she could rein more terror upon the world.
Anger zinged through me. Luke was mine and he was calling to me. I would answer and she would not stop me.
I reached the light and clasped it in both hands. I brought it to cover my heart and blinked slowly as it warmed me, and a sense of inner peace washed over me.
The darkness melted away to leave the failing daylight and the forest – my forest. My mountain. Home. The only home I’d ever known. Safety. I opened my hands and looked down on my claws, my pale blue palms.
The man beneath my talons cried out, face terrified, and the manic glee that trilled through me was enough to have me howling at the sky. Christ, she’d made a mess of him. Enough, he’d had enough. I leaned my weight down and his spine snapped, his body going limp. He gurgled, blood sputtering from his gaping mouth. He shuddered and was still.
Luke hovered nearby, not intruding upon my blood bath since I paced the space, feral and twitching. He recognized a superior predator when he saw one. I felt invincible, untouchable in Wendiga form. A force of nature none could withstand and I would have been happy to remain in this form forever, but he beast was sated.
My skin rippled, tightening around my limbs as my spines retracted. My feet, hands and waist melted into normal human proportions rather than the elongated perversion of the Wendiga. My mouth plumped, flesh spreading across lean bones to leave me feeling pudgy, heavy. Quivering from the pain I twitched and stared at the carcass beneath me, bewildered. In Wendiga form it had been food. Now it was a disemboweled man missing various organs, patches of skin, and chunks of flesh. I retched but forced myself to hold it down. If I vomited I would become too hungry to keep the beast at bay.
I could taste the dead man in my mouth. I wiped aware the gore, heaving when it smeared thickly over the back of my hand, pushing the salty scent deep into my nose that even now smelt glorious.
There was the sound of my raspy breath and the rushing river. I stumbled over to the waters edge and thrust my hands into the clear liquid, watching streaks of red lighten to pink as it washed away a life. I scooped up the water and flung it at my face, gasping as the coldness shrunk my pores and ran down my chest, freezing me. Leaning over I wiped my chin and lips, swilled the water in my mouth until I could only taste myself. But my hands. They were still dirty, covered with a bright splash of colour, haunting me with what I had done. Fingers back in the water and spread into a fan so the cold could seep into the edges I waved them about madly not understanding why I could not get rid of the disgusting reminder.
There was a soft footfall, a crunch, and shift of hard packed snow behind me. I sprang up, heart beating fast, eyes wide with guilt.
Luke stood naked as the day he was born, human again. He too was drenched in blood, but rather than half mad with guilt he looked strong, healthy, and at peace.
“What are you doing?” His voice was even but I heard the strain of concern.
The fear receded to leave an echo of self-loathing. At least he was not going to beat me or burn a cross into my arm.
At this selfish thought I crouched back down and scrubbed at my hands, already burning and red raw. “It won’t come off,” I babbled. “All this cleansing water and it won’t come off. Maybe I need….” I grabbed a handful of icy snow and rubbed my palms together, feeling better with each skin-tearing scrape. I embraced the pain. I should be hurt for I was evil, you see. I needed to be cleansed of the darkness that tainted me.
My hands were scarlet, dripping. Blood. Always was I covered in blood and wallowing in death.
Luke came up behind me and knelt down to place his hands on my wrists to stop my furious scrubbing. “Calm, now.” He slid his hands over mine, helping me wash away the guilt and shame.
And then there was the first pang of hunger. Scrunching my eyes shut I sent up a quick prayer that it would stop. Another deeper pang ripped across my middle. Never did the hunger rest and never did it allow peace.
He rubbed his cheek on my shoulder. “There, isn’t that better, sweetheart?”
I was a monster. A flesh-eating demon possessed by an evil spirit, what a ridiculous question.
I jerked up, wiped my icy hands on my bare hips and walked away back toward my cabin.
It was sad. The man had made it so far only to be taken down at the last hurdle.
The trees towered above, dark and waxy branches rigid. They seemed to condemn me, lean over as if to spear me on pointed boughs. The snow crunched underfoot and unsteady breaths gushed from my wet lips in plumes of vapor, visible even in the fog creeping through the forest below the sunset. It was beautiful, the honey gold sky, white hills and green forest. Why did a beast like me get to live in such splendor? Should I not be in a dank cave somewhere in rags gnawing on long dry bones? Why did I get to stay here in this snowy heaven? Monsters should not walk the daylight. We should cower in the dark.
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