Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87848 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“You are such a perfect mate,” I praise her, covering her with affectionate kisses and holding her in a tight embrace. She is soft and relaxed, no remnants of tension in her mind or her body. Her face is transformed by the orgasmic ordeal, and I think I glimpse what she would look like when she was entirely happy.
It will happen, I am sure of it. I will dedicate the rest of my life to keeping her in this state of completely satisfied desire. I will erase all the sorrows and horrors of her past. I will make her mine. Forever.
CHAPTER 8
Armand
My mate keeps her secrets, but our lovemaking is so passionate I had started to forget that they mattered. We are forging something between us, something out of blood and lust, not tenderness and trust. I will take the former if I cannot have the latter.
I would never have slayed Duplante that way if not for her influence. Not that she asked me to do it, or that she had any idea it was in the cards, but something in her eyes when she saw me with the sword, an intense approval, made his fate inevitable.
She liked seeing me violent.
She liked seeing me merciless.
She liked seeing me kill.
Many of the men in the pack have told me how finding their mate made them better. I am almost certain Beatrix makes me worse.
I relish it deeply.
Probably shouldn’t.
For too long I have been polite, controlled, passive at times. I have allowed life to flow by. I have let the pack do as they will, trusting in the forces of habit and propriety to manage their behavior.
I see now that life as I desire it to be requires more aggression, more forcefulness. The willingness to do what must be done.
“So,” Marcel says in the early light of morning as I attempt to get my affairs in order while being able to think of nothing besides my mate. “Killed a man last night, did you?”
“He was asking for it.”
“I’d say he was. He’s been sitting on one of our largest estates for years and funneling the profits into private accounts. I was going to talk to you about it, but you were knee deep in your new mate.”
“Knee deep?”
“I didn’t want to mention the actual body part, Maître, at the risk of being disrespectful and losing my head.” He smiles to let me know he is joking about the last part.
The pack is having breakfast, but I leave my mate sleeping. She had a very big day yesterday and undoubtedly needs her rest. I need to see how everybody is reacting to the events. A death in the pack is an occasion, no matter how it comes about.
Breakfast, held in the conservatory, is busy as ever. The chateau contains thirty bedrooms and a good two-thirds of them are occupied at the moment. This is a place of respite for many, but not all of the pack.
Madame Foisin approaches me with a broad smile on her face. There is flour on her apron, and a little in her hair. She is a lovely woman who cooked for my father when he was a child, which gives some indication of her age. She is the most senior of us all, and the kitchens are her domain.
“Maître, I was wondering, do you think I should make a gateau or a tarte Tatin?”
“For…”
“For the funeral. We will be laying Duplante to rest later today.”
I had not thought of catering the murder I committed, but I suppose that is part of the natural order of things.
“Ask his mate, perhaps.”
“Jennifer is in mourning and will not eat.”
I feel a deep pang of guilt at those words. “Don’t worry,” she says. “The man was terrible, and she will be better off for it. Sooner or later, every alpha makes his mark on the pack. Sometimes is it a terrible thing, but it is always necessary.”
I was concerned that the pack might react poorly to Duplante’s passing, but as a group they simply began to plan the funeral. His mate is in mourning, but not in a particularly deep way, I think. She has been relieved of a terrible burden.
Beatrix
I wake up, knowing exactly where I am because I have dreamed of it all night long. My mind has been working overtime to try to integrate everything that has happened since I last slept.
I was terrified that the auction at the orphanage would lead me to ruin, but so far I seem to have fallen on my feet. I have a handsome, incredibly passionate mate. I belong to a pack of wolves, which means I am no longer alone in the world. I am finally with my own kind. I have every reason to be happy.
I don’t know where Armand is, but that doesn’t worry me. I have the sense that in this place, he is everywhere. His essence fills every inch and corner of this ancient French castle, which feels like a true home for our kind.