"Over The Moon" - читать интересную книгу автора (A A A, K K K, Davidson MaryJanice, Kantra Virginia, Sunny)

Chapter One

Five years later…

"Lucas Rollings is the best chance you've got, Elena." Candice caught her wrist. In her urgency, pink-painted fingernails lengthened into claws. "He's the best chance any of us have."

"Maybe he is." Elena Livingston pulled away and rose from the sitting room couch to move restlessly to the French doors. A decorative wrought-iron grill covered the glass with lacy, fanciful shapes—leaves, unicorns, wolves, stags. Almost pretty enough to disguise the grill's real purpose: bars on Elena's gilded cage. "But this isn't his fight. Do I have the right to involve him?"

Candice made a frustrated sound and raked both ringed hands through her fine hair. She'd dyed it cotton-candy pink to go with her leather pants and cropped top. It was the kind of thing a rebellious teenager would wear. Candice James was twenty-nine, but like a teenager, she was trying to make a declaration of independence. Unfortunately, pink leather was the best she could do. "Don't be so damned noble. Do you like living like this? Locked up for a month every year like a horny French poodle so the neighbor's mutt can't get to you?"

"No, I don't like it." Elena ground her teeth, barely suppressing the urge to throw herself against the iron grill and rip it right off the door. She could do it. She had the strength. Unfortunately, it would set off every alarm in the house. "I'm twenty-seven years old, dammit. I should have a career. I could be married to a man who loves me, raising babies. Instead I'm a chess piece in Daddy's ongoing game with the Chosen." Letting her forehead rest against the door, she stared blindly through the grill at the forest behind the house. "And I've run out of time."

Candice rose from her chair, concern on her pretty, narrow face. "You think your father's really going to give you to Stephen Bradford?"

She shrugged. "Judith said they've been in negotiations for the past week." The maid might not go so far as to help Elena escape, but she was usually a reliable source of information.

"Stephen. Jesus. Of all the Chosen, why'd your dad have to pick him? He's the nastiest in the bunch."

Elena shot her a dry look. "Which pretty well makes him perfect, as far as my father's concerned. Stephen's arrogant and obsessed with power, and Daddy knows he'll protect the Chosen's traditions."

"Which is exactly why you need Lucas." Candice spread her ringed hands in a pleading gesture. "Look, if you won't do it for yourself, do it for the rest of us. I don't know about you, but I'm sick of living in the Middle Ages. If you can claim your father's seat, you could persuade the rest of the council to dismantle the Traditions."

"If I can claim the seat, and if I can convince them. That's an awful lot of 'ifs.' But I know that if I ask this cop of yours for help, Stephen is going to challenge him, and Stephen has never lost a fight. Is the freedom of a bunch of spoiled rich girls worth a man's life?"

Candice's eyes narrowed under their dramatic eyeshadow. "Maybe not. But my daughter's freedom is."

Elena winced. "Cheap shot."

"I don't care. I want to know that when she gets married, her husband won't consider it his right as a Chosen Alpha to beat her if she crosses him." Candice dropped her voice to a mocking baritone. " 'She'll heal. She must learn discipline.' " Making a lewd gesture at her imaginary daughter's imaginary husband, she snarled, "Fold it into a pointy package and shove it up your hairy Alpha ass!"

"Look, I'm not going to roll over for Stephen. I'm more than capable of fighting my own battles. I just don't like the idea of using anybody else as cannon fodder."

Candice sighed. "You are not up to taking on Stephen Bradford in a fight. Lucas is." She reached into a pocket of her jeans and pulled out a folded envelope. Opening it, she produced a newspaper article and displayed it with a flourish. In a grainy color photo that took up most of the page, a tall, dark-haired man crouched, gazing intently at something on the ground. "Look at this guy. Six-foot-five, and that's when he's not furry. What's more, he's got the muscle to match. He could definitely take Stephen."

Elena took the clipping from her friend's hand and studied it. Candice was right—Lucas looked formidable, but what interested her most was the focused intensity in his gaze. It was pure Alpha male. Pure warrior. Deep inside her, something clenched and heated in response—the Burning Moon reminding her of its presence. She cleared her throat. "He does look like he could give Stephen a run for his money."

"And he's a cop in Harrisville." Harrisville was one of the larger towns in upstate South Carolina, just a three-hour drive from the Livingstons' Charleston mansion. Elena had driven through the area during her frequent trips to Charlotte, North Carolina. "What's more, he hasn't been Direkind long enough to be willing to look the other way for the Chosen. I don't know of anybody else in three states I can say that about."

Elena studied her, interested. "How did you meet this guy?"

"I ran into him a few months ago at a Direkind clan gathering. Fell instantly in lust."

Candice fell instantly in lust on a regular basis. "I'm surprised you didn't snatch him for your very own."

"I did give it some thought. Then I decided you needed him more than I did. I…"

"Shh!" Footsteps on the stairs—ones grown all too familiar. "Oh, hell, that's Stephen. You'd better go, Candice."

"Shit!" Her friend hastily stuffed the clipping back in the envelope and handed it over. "Oh, listen—I also printed out the directions to the Harrisville PD, where Lucas works. I put those in the envelope, too. I want you to think about this, Elena. And fast. You're running out of time."

"I'll think about it." Elena folded the envelope and slid it into the pocket of her jeans, then hurried to escort Candice to the door.

When she opened it, she found Stephen towering on the other side, tall, blond, and icily handsome. He watched Candice slip past, his eyes narrow with disapproval. "What's she doing here?"

"She's a friend, Stephen. My father still allows me to have friends."

The sarcasm, not surprisingly, flew right over his head. "Well, I don't want her here again." Stephen glowered, his gaze deliberately challenging. He was broad shouldered and long-legged in a way that should have made Elena's Burning Moon hormones hum. Yet he left her literally cold. There was just something off about him. Even his handsome face reflected a subtle wrongness. Despite the precisely chiseled features that were the hallmark of the Chosen, his eyes were just a fraction too close together, and his lips were just a little too thin.

Centuries of inbreeding at work, Elena thought. Yet another argument for Lucas Rollings…

"You know, you really do smell delicious." Stephen shouldered his way into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Stephen, what the hell are you doing?" The sinister excitement in his cold blue eyes made the hair rise on the back of her neck.

This was bad. Very bad.

He inhaled deeply. "Ahh, that Burning Moon. Pheromones and sex, my favorite combination." His smile turned chilling. "Especially with a little fear thrown into the mix."

Definitely not good. She took a wary step back. "My father told me he doesn't want me alone with any male for the next month." Never mind that those instructions had pissed her off at the time. Right now, she was grateful.

Stephen's narrow mouth curled into a smile. "That order doesn't apply to me. We just put the finishing touches on the betrothal agreement. You and I are to be married."

She'd known it was coming. Why did this latest betrayal have such power to wound? Elena squared her shoulders and met his hot gaze with her best Ice-Bitch glare. "And I'll tell you what I told him—I will not marry you."

"He's your Alpha. You'll do as you're told. And if that's not enough, he's dying." Nasty anticipation lit those cold eyes. "Surely you wouldn't refuse a dying father's last wish?"

The thought of Richard's death shot a little sliver of pain into Elena's heart. It saddened her that her grief was less for the man himself than for the relationship they'd never had. To Richard Livingston, she was nothing but the means to carry on Wulfgar's line.

But he had also taught her that being the descendent of the Direkind's greatest hero was a responsibility as well as an honor. Her few happy childhood memories involved sitting in Richard's lap, listening to the legends of her ancestor's heroism.

Remembering those stories, Elena knew what she had to do. "I know my duty, Stephen." She also knew what he was capable of, but she curled her lip and met his eyes anyway. "And my duty is to make sure that the blood of a self-serving bully does not run in my son's veins."

Stephen's head rocked back as if from a physical blow. "You little bitch."

She'd just declared war on the Direkind's most dangerous man. It was oddly freeing. "And you have no business leading the Chosen."

He smiled coldly. "Not just a bitch, but a stupid bitch. Richard warned me you'd take this attitude. That's why we're not going to wait." Slowly, Stephen began to stalk her, his big hands curling into fists.

Her pounding heart turned to ice. "What are you talking about?"

"No point in waiting until after the wedding when you won't be fertile again for another year." He bared his teeth. "So Richard told me to get you pregnant now. He wants you nice and round before he kicks off."

If she'd needed proof of how little she meant to her father, this was it. "So you're just going to rape me?"

"You're in your Burning Moon. I doubt there'll be much rape involved. Though if you want to play rough…" Magic rose, surging around him, glowing to Elena's senses. Mystical energies twisted bone and muscle, sending a wave of golden fur across his skin. When the forces finally died, something not even remotely human towered over Elena, almost seven and a half feet of golden fur, massive muscle, and razored claws.

Fangs gleamed as he grinned at her, and his pointed ears brushed the ceiling. "Now, you're welcome to shift, too," Stephen said, in a deep, growling voice that sounded nothing like his own. "I'd be more than happy to demonstrate just what little chance you have against me in a fight." He spread his fingers, making his claws flex. "Though it's safe to say you won't enjoy the demonstration nearly as much as I will."

Elena backed away, silently cursing both him and her father. At least they'd made her decision easier. If Stephen would do something like this to her—a woman he was supposed to marry—anybody was fair game. He had to be stopped, whatever it took. Even if it meant risking the life of an innocent man. "Where's your Chosen sense of honor, Stephen?"

"Where's yours? Your Alpha gave you an order, and you refused to obey."

Her Burning Moon temper exploded. "It's my body. I have a right—"

"To nothing!" Stephen roared back. "You are not some human female who can put on a pretense of equality! You're a Direwolf. You obey your Alpha. And as of tonight, that's me."

She bared her teeth, refusing to cower. "You're not my Alpha!"

A clawed hand flashed out and wrapped in the tough blue fabric of her polo shirt, jerking her closer. "I say I am. And I say we're going to fuck. Now. Tonight. Tomorrow. Every damned day for the rest of the month until you're pregnant!"

And this will be the rest of my life, Elena thought. Being bullied by this vicious prick simply because he's bigger and stronger. By God, I don't think so. "No!"

Stephen shoved his fanged muzzle inches from her face. "You've got a choice, bitch. Either we can pretend we're civilized and do it like humans, or I do you as a Direwolf until you bleed. It's fine by me either way!"

"How about none of the above?" Magic poured over her in a hot, foaming wave, searing muscle and bone as it twisted and reformed her body. But not into Direwolf form.

Elena became a wolf.

Stephen had obviously assumed she'd Change to Direwolf. When she became so much smaller, he lost his gripexactly as she'd hoped.

Elena hit the ground and darted away as he snatched for her, cursing.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, bitch?" Flexing his clawed hands, he stalked her. He could disembowel her with one swipe. Given his mood, she wouldn't put it past him.

Fear iced her veins, but she ignored it as she danced around him, snapping at his muscled calves like a dog teasing a bear. He grabbed at her, but she was low-slung and nimble on her four legs, and he missed.

With a taunting flick of her tail, she headed for the French doors and their wrought-iron grillwork. He followed, snarling like a chainsaw.

Stopping directly in front of one door, Elena feinted a lunging snap at his balls. Come on, you big ox. Take your shot.

"Oh, cunt, I'm going to enjoy putting you in your place!" He drew back a huge fist and swung at her with all his considerable strength. She ducked. His punch grazed the tips of her pointed ears and slammed into the door, which exploded outward from the force of the blow. Glass flew and iron shrieked, the sound competing with Stephen's shocked yelp of pain.

Bet that hurt, dumbass. With a triumphant bark, Elena sailed through the opening, dashed across the balcony, and leaped neatly over the railing. Stephen, trapped in the mangled remains of the grill, could only howl in frustration as she changed forms and ran to the Ferrari in the driveway.

Just in case, she'd left the car unlocked and the keys in the ignition. Now she started the engine and floored the Ferrari down the drive.

"Elena!" Stephen roared after her. "Come back here, or I swear, I'll rip out your guts!"

She ignored him. She didn't have much time to find Lucas Rollings.