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An Excerpt From: HORN OF THE UNICORN
Copyright © RHYANNON BYRD, 2006.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
Heaven help her, she was about to meet the unicorn.
Zarnak thundered into The
Clearing, his every cell and sense focused completely upon the lush image
of his woman draped over the center stone, her legs pulled open
while Graedor’s mouth and chin glistened with her
cream. A cold, deadly rage seared his veins, every muscle going taut with
painful tension as he struggled not to deliver instant death with the power
of the beast’s body to the man who had dared to touch what was his.
She was here—real, not some blasted figment of his
imagination—and he was going to wring that meddling grey wolf’s goddamn
neck!
I think that’s enough, he seethed through their
telepathic link, struggling not to roar, filling the heavy silence with his
animal anger. He didn’t want to frighten her to death, and he could already
smell her growing unease on the air as it blended with the lush,
intoxicating scent of her glistening little quim
nestled there between trembling thighs held wide by Graedor’s
dark hands.
She pulsed with a ripe, fertile scent that nearly
destroyed him with hunger—with violent, tearing need that threatened to
overtake him at any moment. It was a sharp, shredding ache within his
bones, roaring viciously through his veins. Something insistent and
essential—not to be denied.
“Enough? For you or for me?” Graedor
grunted, holding Zarnak’s angry glare as he
deliberately lowered his face between her beautiful thighs and curled his
long tongue around the pretty pink nub of her clit, then gave it a quick
little nip with his teeth that had her releasing a raw cry of surprise. A
sharp blast of air hit the lycan’s face as the
beast snorted, and then he was knocked back as the mighty nose slammed into
his forehead, jerking Grae’s head up so suddenly
that his spine popped with a sharp, resonating crack of sound.
I said enough! Zarnak
roared within the lycan’s mind, while the girl
stared up at them with dark, velvety brown eyes now shocked wide with fear.
It was clear she had not expected them to fight for her, and he knew,
without even traveling her mind, that she was lying
there for him—and not the golden werewolf at her back.
Graedor’s lip curled, two
long, deadly canines lengthening within the curve of his surly smile, and Zarnak could smell the animal lust on the man—the grey
wolf’s desire to fight for the right to finish what the man in him had
started. “You want my help or not, Zarn?” Grae rasped with undisguised defiance, and with a
painful twisting in his gut, Zarnak realized that
his friend was on the verge of challenging him for her. And if he did, he
would be forced to kill him. There’d be no other choice.
Needed it—don’t want it. I did not ask you to
bring her here! I understand that you’ve tried to help ready her, but you’ve
no leave to take her within your mouth. You, as well as your beast, know
she does not belong to you.
“Well, considering there’s fuck all chance you’re going
to let me get my dick anywhere near her,” Graedor
drawled softly, his golden eyes shifting with a myriad of molten colors,
“you should be happy my wolf and I are settling for a taste of that creamy
little hole.”
Not…yours. The words echoed through his mind,
ragged and raging over the silent channel of communication, even as Zarnak struggled to remain calm. You’re on the verge
of challenging me, when you know she’s mine. Do not do this. Do not
start something you know we will both regret, he said, forcing himself
to sound reasonable, when his possessive need for Tess
made him long to pound his friend’s body beneath the lethal power of his
legs and hooves with a bloodthirsty vengeance. Graedor
stared at him out of glittering, fire-filled eyes, and then, as if
wrenching himself from a pleasure-induced trance, he made a noise full of
self-disgust and shook his golden head, almost as if he were trying to
throw off the heavy, cloying remnants of a dream.
Please, Grae, do not force
me to kill you.
Long, tense moments carried the heavy rasping of their
anger, until finally the lycan arched one golden
brow, his lip curling with a small smile as he snickered softly beneath his
breath. “You’re an arrogant shit, you know that, Zarn?
Who’s to say I’d not toss you on your ass? I did it often enough, before
your change.”
A sharp sense of relief flooded Zarnak’s
system. And you sound like you’ve been listening into the outside world
too often, Grae. Your vernacular is giving you
away.
“One should always study the ways of one’s enemy.” The lycan laughed softly, no longer champing at the bit for
another go at Tess’ glistening cunt. Zarnak could not help
but notice, though, that Grae’s hungry gaze
continued to fall upon her lush beauty again and again—as if his friend
could not help himself. Not that he could blame the bastard. She was a
succulent vision of feminine sensuality, and he knew that he’d never seen
anything more beautiful or achingly tempting in his entire life.
(…)
But gods, how can I do this?
He had thought all he must save her from was himself. Even when he’d begged her to come to him the
night before, he’d known it was wrong. Selfish and entirely unfair. How
could he harm her when every cell within his body screamed to keep her
safe, to cherish and love her as no man had ever devoted himself to a
woman?
And now…now he was going to cause her the ultimate pain,
simply because he could not fight himself.
Signaling Graedor with a nod
of his head, the other man moved back over Tess’
body, securing her thighs out wide at her sides within the powerful grip of
his hands. Zarnak’s gut coiled at the sight of
the lycan’s dark hands upon her pale flesh, but
he choked down the possessive burn of jealousy, knowing it must be done.
There was no question of going back now. No other road to travel. His
friend’s actions had, indeed, sealed their fate—and he could not deny that
he was viciously, savagely thrilled with the outcome.
She blinked up at him, staring into his eyes, her dark
gaze fathomless and deep, and he marveled at the fates that had brought
them here, together, granting him that which he had most wanted, but had
never thought to have. The ultimate joy battled with his conscience, until
finally the needs of the beast overrode his restraint and, for a moment, he
eased his head upon her trembling stomach, simply soaking in the feel of
her, the sumptuous scents of her skin and the rushing beat of her heart.
Easing back into her mind, Zarnak
sought to quiet her fear. Feel only the pleasure, little one, and give
me your pain. I will gladly take it. Always. I would eagerly take all your
suffering, all your fears.
He paused, listening to her breathing, her blood
rhythmically flowing through her veins, and could see her mind going hazy
at his bidding, as if a soothing fog had smoothed its way through her
thoughts, calming her.
May the gods forgive me for that which I am about to
do, he silently growled, lifting his head to look at her face. The damp
silk of her lips trembled with emotion, cheeks flushed crimson while her
eyes squeezed painfully tight, and he knew he had never seen her more
beautiful, because within moments she was going to belong to him forever.
For all eternity. A sharp blast of air from his nostrils shifted the long
tresses of her dark, silken hair around her shoulders, surrounding her face
like a veil of lustrous midnight, and it was a physical pain not to be able
to hold her within his arms and touch the damp heat of her skin with his
hungry flesh.
Groaning, he snarled a possessive sound of triumph as he
lowered his head between the thighs that Graedor
held pinned with his steely strength.
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