Out of The Dark (The Grey Wolves #4)(21)

Jacque closed her eyes against the sensation.
"I'm a grown woman, Fane. I can decide when I need to sleep," she ground out through her gritted teeth, bracing herself against the desire that began to simmer as her mate placed one hand on her lower back and pulled her even closer. His other hand went to her chin, tilting her face up to his. He stared into her eyes and she watched as his began to glow brighter and brighter blue.
"Fane." His name on her lips was a plea.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She didn't respond right away and he growled low at her. Jacque responded to this by running her hands through his hair as she deepened the kiss. When Fane let go of her chin and placed his hand on her hip, under her shirt, his warmth sent a shock through her and she moaned into his mouth. Fane pulled back abruptly, his own breathing heavy. 
"Let me love you, Luna," Fane whispered as he began placing gentle kisses all over her face, her neck, and collarbone. Jacque groaned and tried to shake off the lust-induced fog.
"Stop trying to distract me, it won't work," she muttered in between short breaths.
"It looks like it's working to me." Fane chuckled as she pressed against him.
His chuckle broke through her haze as she pushed him away.
"GRRR! Fane! I won't let you try to get me to go to bed by seducing me."
"Why not? You need a break and I need you. It's a win-win." Fane leaned forward, trying to kiss her again, only to meet her hand.
"Listen up, Don Juan." Jacque poked a finger in his chest, punctuating her words. "If you think you are needy now, just keep pulling this Alpha crap and seduction crap on me. We'll see just how needy we can make you."
Fane took a step back, straightening his shirt, and ran his hands through his hair. After composing himself, he smiled at her. "A compromise?" he asked sweetly.
Jacque couldn't stifle the giggle at his raised eyebrow. "Lay it on me."
"I was trying to. Geez, woman, make up your mind," Fane told her, eyes glowing.
She threw one hand up to hold him off. "I meant your idea, fur ball, not your delectable body."
Fane let out a growl. "Delectable?"
"Oh, get over yourself. What's the compromise?"
"I give you two more hours, then you come to bed with me."
Jacque shook her head as she rolled her eyes. "You will give me? Really, Fane?" She stepped around him. "Fine, two hours, then bed. To sleep," she clarified and laughed to herself when Fane growled and tugged on her hair. They fell into companionable silence as they both began to read.
An hour and a half later Jacque stood up and walked over to Fane. She didn't look up from the book in her hands as she moved toward him.
"I found it. I found her." Jacque's words were a near whisper as she looked up at Fane, finally tearing her eyes away from the name on the page.
"Desdemona." Jacque shuddered as she spoke the name aloud.
Fane brushed some wisps of hair from Jacque's face as he asked her what it said.
"It says she's the only survivor of the purge. The account is from a member of the Serbian pack in 1711. He is talking about how an unknown female came to their pack and darkness followed her." Jacque looked up at Fane. "She's been working with the Serbian pack since the 1700s?" Her voice was full of dread at the realization of how old Desdemona was, and how long the alliance between her and the Serbian pack ran.
Jacque continued to read the document, explaining out loud what she was reading.
"She started the werewolf wars. After the wars were over, she disappeared." She handed Fane the book and let him skim over it as she thought about what she had read. Desdemona, a powerful witch, probably the most powerful in history.
Fane closed the book gently and wrapped his arms around Jacque. "Good work, love. We now know who she is. There is power in having a name. I think we should call it a night. We can share with the others what we have found tomorrow. Then we can continue to search for a way to break the curse."
Jacque nodded and allowed him to guide her out of the archives and up to their room.
"So..sleep, huh?" Fane asked slyly.
Jacque rolled her eyes. "We just find out the name of the most powerful witch in history, the witch who cursed the Beta of our pack, and that's what you want to talk about?"Fane chuckled. "Who said anything about talking?" he whispered against her neck as he pulled her toward their bed. Fane gently pushed Jacque onto her back and covered her body with his.
Jacque let out a small moan as her mate kissed her. When he pulled back and stared into her eyes, she smiled. "Talking is definitely overrated."
She closed her eyes and let her mate love her, closing out the nightmares crowding in on them.
(ten days since set out)
It was two days later when another breakthrough finally occurred.
“What could possibly break the curse on Decebel?” Jacque asked Fane as he searched through the stacks of old parchment.
"I've got it!" Crina shouted. Everyone stopped what they were doing.
"What's it say?" Fane asked from across the room.
"Love," Crina answered solemnly.
"Love?" Jacque asked incredulously. "That's the answer? That's what will make Decebel remember?"
Fane began to set aside the documents that crowded his lap. "Crina, bring that paper with you. Luna, grab the books with the references to Desdemona by name. Sorin," Fane started toward the hallway that would lead them back to the main room, "it's time to head back to the tavern. We've got a witch to hunt."
Chapter 13
Thad stood in his office, which was located in the Serbian pack headquarters, staring out into the cold, dark night. The usually clear sky was veiled in the darkness of rolling clouds. The windows rattled as the wind picked up speed. The trees swayed, causing the snow on the branches to blow away into the night.
His back was stiff with tension, his shoulders pulled back, hands in the pockets of his grey slacks. He rolled his neck in an attempt to ease the tension, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something very important – some piece of knowledge that had been buried in history. He kept asking himself why Mona was so willing to help him. She was powerful, no longer needing his pack's protection, and yet she stayed.
His brown eyes narrowed with an eerie glow. It was time to start digging, he decided. How long had it been since he had looked into the past of his species? Centuries of history, that if forgotten could be detrimental to them, and yet he knew without a doubt the Canis lupis had become too comfortable in their place on this earth. Mona was up to something, something that would benefit her and bring destruction to all in her path. Definitely time to take a walk into their past.
Rachel had barely moved from Jen's side for the past two days. She hadn't thrown up blood since the night before, but she was afraid to leave her unattended for even a moment. In all her centuries she had never been more ashamed and more scared of her actions. Her selfish need to protect herself was costing this young girl her life, and quite possibly her mate's life as well. Rachel shook her head. No, she refused to accept that. She would not let her die. 
Gavril had gone in search of Perizada. He had left hours after Jen started convulsing and vomiting. She was in and out of consciousness, often mumbling incoherently. Rachel took to telling her stories, sharing her past and many adventures. Occasionally Jen would open her eyes, but they were unfocused, not really seeing.
Now Rachel watched as Jen began to take shallow breaths. This was the worst part, when she struggled to breathe, and there was nothing she could do. She propped Jen up with pillows behind her back and head, trying to help open her lungs, but still Jen labored and gasped.
"Please, Jen, don't give up," Rachel whispered fervently. "Hang in there. Gavril will unite you with your mate. Just hang in there, young one."
Jen felt her chest tighten and tried desperately to get more air into her lungs. She hurt all over and the emptiness that continued to swallow her was becoming unbearable. She just wanted it to end. She heard a soft voice somewhere in the darkness telling her not to give up. And truthfully, the idea was tempting, until she thought about his deep voice, his beautiful amber eyes, his amazingly strong body and immovable will. She couldn't give up, she owed him that much. But, damn, it hurt. She tried to open her eyes but they wouldn't cooperate. Lifting her head or any part of her body for that matter was out of the question.
So this is how it ends, she thought. o\One would think with all that has happened in the last months that I would at least get to go out in a blaze of glory. But no, here I lay in a gypsy healer's home, battered, broken, and sick. Man, this just sucks.
Jen thought about her parents and how Jacque and Sally would have to come up with some story as to how she died. Her mom wouldn't take it well. Though their relationship was tumultuous on a good day, she was their only child. Jacque would have to take care of Sally because Sally didn't do loss well. Jen still remembered when Sally's dog, Tick, died in third grade. They had named him Tick because they found him in their front yard, hiding under a bush, covered in ticks. Sally had refused to talk for days. Finally Jen had demanded her mom take her over there and help her do a funeral for Sally. No, Sally did not do loss well at all.
And what about Decebel? How would he handle her death? Of course, since he didn't remember her it might not be that bad, so maybe she should be thankful for the curse. The thought of never seeing his face again caused a sharp pain in her chest. She felt tears slip out of her eyes. She had been crying a lot lately and it was beginning to get on her nerves, but nothing could be done about it. She was hurting physically, yet even more so emotionally. She longed to hear Decebel's voice, even if it was him yelling at her, bossing her around. She remembered the day Decebel had sat with her on that couch and held her, kissed her, showed her with every touch just what she meant to him. She remembered the text messages they had sent each other when he Vasile had locked him up. The tenderness in those messages had warmed her to her toes.