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I begin moving, lifting myself to the tip and sliding to the base of him. “You feel so good,” he sighs.
It doesn’t take long before we’re moving in unison. I lower my body to his, kissing him deeply as we continue moving. The rhythm of our tongues matches the rhythm of our bodies.
The sensation starts low in my abdomen, covering my body in chill bumps. I sit up, just as the coil spins tightest, and take every inch of him inside. Thorne matches my intensity, and the two of us cry out at the same time.
I collapse on top of him, and it takes a few minutes for both of us to catch our breath. “That was…”
“Yeah.” He fills in the blank.
A soft knock on the door draws us back to reality. “I’m sorry to bother you, again… I feel like this is becoming a pattern.” Micah’s voice echoes through the door. “But Connor’s here. He brought someone you need to meet.”
“We’ll be right down,” I answer for the both of us.
A few minutes pass before we make our way back downstairs. Connor is standing in the doorway with a larger man not far behind.
“Elsie, this is Christopher St. James, the Alpha of New Orleans.”
Thorne moves in front of the Alpha, the top of his head only coming to Christopher’s forehead. “Good to see you again, Thorne,” he says, shaking Thorne’s hand. “Elsie, please call me Topher.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Topher. What brings the Alpha of New Orleans here?” I ask.
Topher looks down before speaking. “Connor has shared information about what’s happened here and the death of your granddaughter. I’m truly sorry.”
“Thank you,” Thorne whispers. “Me, too.”
“I’ve heard through several of my pack members that Kragen has been spotted off the coast of Louisiana in the Gulf.”
“Of course, he has,” I spew. “Let me guess, in a pirate ship?”
Topher laughs. “No, in the swamps, and it was more like a canoe.”
“Was he alone?” Elias asks.
“There was a woman with him.”
“When do we leave?” Abram asks thesmall group.
“My plane is ready and will hold everyone.”
I close my eyes. When will this be over? Will this ever be over?
“Okay,” Thorne whispers. He turns toward the small group next to us. “If any?—”
“Stop,” Luna interrupts. “We’ve already had this conversation…several times. We’re all staying and seeing this through.” She moves closer to her Alpha, who wraps a long arm around her shoulders.
“You’ve done well,” Topher praises her, giving her a warm hug. “I have a car waiting out front.”
The eight of us load into an extra-large SUV and arrive at the airport not long after. I have no idea what we’re going to find when we get there, or what we’re walking into. The SUV bypasses the airport and drives straight to the tarmac. Parked in the middle of a smaller runway is a private jet.
“The New Orleans pack must have more money,” Connor laughs.
Topher returns the laugh. “That belongs to my wife. She inherited quite a bit of money from her maker.”
“Her maker?” I ask, eavesdropping.
“She’s a vampire, or at least, she was.” Topher laughs awkwardly. “It’s a long story.”
The jet lifts into the sky, and the group falls mostly quiet. The lycan have been talking quietly, forgetting that we can hear them no matter how softly they speak. Most of their conversations have to do with packmatters and the future of both the Charleston and New Orleans packs.
