tagNonHumanLunar Dance Ch. 10

Lunar Dance Ch. 10


Hello Readers!

I want to give a special shot out to my editor who has been amazing and instrumental in getting these latest chapters edited, so I could let you fine people read them. She's absolutely awesome, and I just wanted to give a big shot out to her. Thanks a billion!

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Communication: the imparting or interchange of thoughts, opinions, or information by speech, writing, or signs.

Jozlyn wiped the fog off the bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection. Her lips were fuller, her hair shinier, her skin more luminous, everything was tighter, as if she had worked out in the gym and toned herself. She looked fucking fantastic, truly beautiful. Even her unruly red hair wasn't that unruly. And it was all due to a little bite. Well now it looked little. And a bit faded. The bite which only hours before had been large, red and hot as fire was now just a shade darker than her skin and hardly even visible.

Jozlyn was still taking everything in stride. After she had change Demir had explained everything to her. Everything.

Her life would never be the same again, her body would never be the same again. She supposed she should be freaking out right about now, and she supposed somewhere in her mind she was having a complete melt down but some part of her brain, the part not reeling was in control and ensuring that she performed all the necessary human functions to seem normal and in control.

Jozlyn toweled off quickly, barely looking around at the elegant bathroom, with its black marble and heated floors. All she had needed was a shower, and with that she was on to the next room.

The bedroom was quite opulent, but understated, and masculine with an edge of power to it. The bed dominated the room. Being a large four poster bed covered in navy blue silk, with intricate wolves chasing animals around the bedposts, and sharing a family on the headboard, the bed was by far her favorite piece of furniture in the room. Demir was lounging back on the bed, a single sheet covering his nudity, watching her like prey. He had given her the same look once upon a time across a stream. It chilled and heated her body all at once.

Jozlyn moved silently to the wardrobe, her body adjusting and allowing her to move with more grace and ease, more stealth. Flinging open the wardrobe doors, Jozlyn was again shocked that half of the closet seemed to be filled with women's clothes. Shirts, pants, skirts, and shoes littered the wardrobe, seeming to give the impression that a woman lived here. "Whose clothes are these?" Jozlyn asked silently, thoughtfully.

She heard the rustle of silk before she felt Demir's arms slide around her from behind, modeling to the contours of her body. "Yours," he growled playfully against her neck, his tongue tracing a pattern over the bite marks he had given her.

"Oh," she said lightly, as heat lanced through her body. The mating pull. Demir had said something about it to her, but at the time she had been too bombarded with information.

After a wolf mated, the wolf and his mate would feel the mating pull. A need to come together as often as possible in order to make a baby. That was the whole point. They were being driven into each other by a genetic makeup as old as the first animals, the simple need to procreate.

Jozlyn allowed her mind to analyze rather than actually think about what was happening to her. Demir sensed her withdrawal, her analytical mind taking over, and he didn't like it one bit.

"You will have to come out of your damn shell and deal with this you know," Denir said, spinning Jozlyn around to face him. Early in the morning he had told her everything, laid his heart bare for her to see.

He should have known it had been too easy for her to accept everything. Well of course she had freaked out at first, the hysterics rising to the surface, but after about an hour she had been strangely quiet, which had scared him more than anything.

Demir's plate was cracking under the weight of everything he was piling into it. He couldn't pile his mate on too. That would be his breaking point, he set his emotions aside, and left her standing by the wardrobe as he went to take a shower.

Jozlyn stared after Demir, even as the bathroom door shut and the water started running. The new wolf inside her smelled something on the air. Her human nose sniffed openly, but couldn't smell a damn thing. Jozlyn chose a dress carelessly, slipping the fabric over her head, and securing the ties around her waist. All the while she hoped and prayed there would be no more surprises, because in all honesty... she didn't know if she could handle it!


Nyyrikki strode through his corridors, the gold giving way to a vibrant green which became darker with each step, until it faded into black and he reached his War room. Pushing the heavy wooden double doors open, he strode into the corridor past his emissaries, before collapsing back into a chaise at the far end of the room. Nyyrikki nodded towards his emissaries, motioning them to come forward.

A short man, with a long white beard and flowing purple robes stepped forward first. He gave the god a shaky nod of his head, casting his aging eyes down to the floor. "Great and all powerful, seer of-" Nyyrikki cut of the formal accolades sprouting from his oldest emissaries mouth. "Yes yes I know. Now get on with it!"

The man bent lower, beginning a new, "She has made the first move. The wolf never died, but was broken into four pieces and placed into four different humans. Of those four, only one had the wolf come out fully. Now she has gathered all the descendants and woken up the wolves, she now trains her army."

Nyyrikki gripped the arm rest until he heard it crack, and snap beneath his fingers. THAT BITCH! Nyyrikki's mind screamed, as he rose from the broken seat and took carefully measured steps towards his emissary. Nyyrikki bent low, coming eye level with the man, who had the decency to flinch away. "I killed her fucking wolf," Nyyrikki whispered close to the man's ear.

The man held his tongue, keeping his head carefully lowered in submission. Nyyrikki turned from the man and announced loudly, "If I killed her fucking wolf then how can she have an army of wolves?"

No one answered. The room hung in a deadly spell of silence and fear. "Answer me!" he screamed at the four emissaries before him.

"You killed the body," a light voice whispered across the room.

Nyyrikki turned towards his fourth emissary, his youngest emissary. Nyyrikki stepped close to her, the only female emissary he had. There was a reason for that. Women were weak creatures, ruled by their emotions. They could not kill with the swift and ease of men. But Myran was different, she was a cold blooded killer through and through.

"Had you killed the soul, Tabiti would not have been able to take it and place it into humans." His hand moved without recourse and struck her squarely over the face. She did not flinch from the assault, but quietly stood there.

"Never say that name to me," Nyyrikki spit out, turning from them all and moving to exit the room. There was no need to stay any longer, nothing pressing that kept him with them.

"Build me an army. I want them trained and ready to kill in three human months. When the blood moon rises, our army will attack. See that they are ready."

With that he left, leaving his most trusted emissaries to build him an army capable of defeating Tabiti and her wolves.


WHO THE FUCK IS SINGING?! Kayla wondered agitatedly. For some reason her eyes wouldn't open and her body wouldn't move. Panic started to set in in degrees, and the singing wasn't helping any. And then it stopped, and hushed whispers began. Kayla thought the singing was bad, but this was worse. She caught snippets of the conversation. Something about wolves and alpha and mates. Who were these people? Sci-fi freaks? Or paranormal romance novel jockeys?

It was then Kayla smelled it. It was so faint, she had probably been smelling it the whole time she was here. Wherever here was. It smelled like herbs, sweet and fragrant. Her panic began to increase, as she reached further and further for her consciousness.

Surprisingly she was warm, very warm. But only on one side. She was curled around something very warm, and whatever it was smelled good, very good. Sniffing, she tried to remember the scent. Kayla knew she had smelled it before, it smelled like... Matt! Oh my god! Kayla thought hysterically, I'm curled around Matt and some crazy nuts are singing some weird ass song and burning incense. What is this some kind of twisted ritual bull shit?!

Even as Kayla tried to understand her predicament, she knew instinctively Matt was not her captor, he wasn't even awake. His breathing was regular, as if he was in a deep sleep. The singing stopped again, but she couldn't really remember when it had started from when it stopped the last time. The whispers set in, more urgent than last time. Kayla wiggled her toes. Thank god! she thought.

Ten minutes ago she hadn't been able to wiggle her toes but now she could! She was beginning to feel again.

"She is awake," the words were said in a normal tone reaching her ears, and soaking into her. The voice was soothing , melodic, but for some reason it just set Kayla on edge.

"I think it's time to wake him up too. They have much to discuss and we have much to prepare". Raven stop the chant and douse the fires. "I will go and gather the pack. It's time to take them home." A breeze passed in whatever place she was in, and left a cool imprint on her skin.

The chanting stopped, and the incense weren't so powerful.

Kayla took a deep breath in and moved. It felt so good to wiggle her fingers and toes, shake her hips and head. Matt groaned, and Kayla opened her eyes to find his staring at her, slightly hazed by pain. Kayla sat up slowly looking Matt over for the injury that was causing him such pain. Scratches marked his thighs, chest, and arms. Kayla ignored his nudity, and gasped at the large swollen markings on his neck. They looked incredibly painful. But even as she looked at the bruises and scratches they seemed to decrease in size and number, healing almost miraculously.

Kayla opened her mouth to speak, but for once was at a complete loss for words. Matt looked at his mate. His own private goddess. I love her, ran across his mind in banners, and despite the enormous pain he was in he grabbed her and crushed her body to his. Warm, she was so warm.

Matt held Kayla until she lightly pressed against his shoulders, and he slowly released his hold on her, but did not set her from him. Matt's instincts kicked in and he surveyed the room he was in.

It was a cave, dark except for the candles scattered on the walls. It was lit in romantic tones, with lavender hung in bunches from the ceiling, and rugs scattered on the floor. It was at this time Matt realized both himself and Kayla were completely naked. Thank the goddess!

"M-Matt," Kayla whispered breathlessly as he laid her back down and shifted so that he crouched over her.

Kayla watched with fascination as his bruises cleared and his scars faded into nothingness. Delicately she reached and lightly traced the small marking in his throat which continued to fade with her finger tips. Only the slight change in his eyes alerted her to the pain he was still in, and Kayla quickly snatched her hand back.

"Don't," Matt breathed over her skin, reaching for her hand again, and turning it so he could place a heated kiss in her palm. Twisting his hips, Matt positioned himself at Kayla's entrance, eliciting a small gasp from her throat.

"Matt please..." Kayla pleaded not exactly knowing what she was asking. Did she want him to stop? or continue? Not that it mattered, because at that moment the need to be inside his woman, his mate, far exceeded what was right and wrong.

Mat spread Kayla's thighs, opening her up like a midnight flower, and slowly inch by inch he encased himself in her warm, dripping, petals.

Kayla arched her back, her legs coming to rest around Matt's hips, and gave herself up the illicit joy she felt in Matt's arms. Kayla felt every inch as he entered her, every slide of her muscles on his length, and every throbbing beat of pleasure that ferried between them.

The two made love. Sweet and tender, infinitely more intimate than the two had ever been. Matt watch the emotions play over Kayla's face, as she moaned, gasped, and writhed with every thrust he made into her. Her nails beat a rhythm over his shoulders and back, as her lips sang the most beautiful tune he had ever heard.

The two did not rush to the pinnacle, or fall head first over the edge. They walked hand and hand to the cliff, reaching out and lacing fingers as they soared over the precipice and into heaven.

Sometime later they woke up. Kayla stretched lightly, feeling sore in tall the best places. Matt had grabbed a blanket sometime in the course of their stay in the cave and covered her up. Kayla lightly traced over Matt's chest, her hair a total mess, and her lips deliciously bruised.

She turned to him, stretching out on top of him, with her arms folded over his chest, and her chin resting atop them. She leaned forward, lightly running her tongue over the sea of his lips. Matt made a move to grab her, kiss her, and pick up where they left off. But Kayla playfully evaded him before turning serious. "Matt, we really need to talk?"

Flinging his arm over his eyes, he looked out the sight of her naked and willing on top of him. "I know," he said removing his arm and running a hand through her hair. "I know".

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