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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Sensanin
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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!
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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.
