Immortal Wolf - By Bonnie Vanak Page 0,34

guarding his thoughts, waiting for her to pass judgment. But she seemed absorbed in the music, even tapping her bare left foot a little.

“It’s your pack’s language. It sounds as musical as the songs.”

His guard slipped down slightly. “It’s not pure as the French Damian was taught, but it has its own slang and words. Some of the words are a mixture, and some stand on their own.”

She removed the headphones and put them aside. “Would you teach me? I’d like to learn.”

Surprised, he considered her. Her rosebud mouth was lush, begging to be kissed. His gaze traveled down the length of the shapeless dress. Raphael envisioned her naked on his bed, pale flesh gleaming, the red curls between her legs moist with arousal. Her slim legs draped about his hips as he plunged into her sweet feminine flesh over and over. “Tu veux aller au coucher avec moi à soir?”

Her sweet smile heated his blood. “That sounds lovely.”

Raphael drew in a ragged breath. Yes, he would like her in his bed tonight. But he had to take it slow. “Later. Let’s start with your other lessons.”

As they sat cross-legged on the soft grass outside her cottage, Emily appeared distracted. Raphael realized the challenge facing him. She hadn’t shifted into a wolf in more than a year. She feared contact with humans. She had lived isolated on the farmhouse, shunned by her pack and surviving on her own for a year.

How could he teach Emily to prepare for death when he was too interested in teaching her how to live? His own emotions were in turmoil. How could he be emotionless and close to her? The allure of her filled his body with hot longing. He was experiencing all the natural desires a male Draicon felt upon finding his mate.

Most draicarons didn’t also face killing their mates.

Setting his hands on his knees, he breathed deep. “Part of your preparation is attuning yourself to the deeper senses and separating yourself from this world.”

“I don’t want to separate myself from this earth. It’s part of me.”

“Emily, work with me,” he insisted. “You’re not accomplishing anything this way.”

Her large green eyes studied him. “You’re the Kallan, yet you are of this world with your machines that play music, and your contemporary ways. How can you teach me about the spiritual plane, the Other Realm, when you know nothing about the earth?”

He spread out his hands. “My people know equally of the earth and its secrets, only we live in a different environment. I know every inch of my world, my bayou. It’s my life.”

How could he break through to her? Raphael jammed a hand through his long, dark hair. Sudden insight filled him. He went to the gnarled trunk of a maple tree that had stubbornly refused to turn colors and beckoned to her. As she joined him, he touched the bark.

“Watch. If I were not in tune with the earth, would I have the power to do this?”

Her eyes widened as he blew gently on the bark and iridescent sparks traveled up the mighty trunk to the limbs. The green leaves changed to rich crimson. A small gasp fled Emily.

One leaf gently fluttered to the ground. He picked it up, cradled it in his palm. “The cycle of life in the earth exists for a reason. The tree needs her rest in the winter, to regain the energy in spring and renew herself.”

Raphael touched the leaf with a single finger, directing a blast of energy at it. It crumbled into dust in his hand. He blew at the dust, sending it scattering into the wind.

“The decaying leaves feed the earth and provide a rich compost,” he added, watching her face. “It’s necessary to life.”

“But life is not always boring and predictable. What if one tree resisted change?” She touched the bark. “I hate saying goodbye and was happy to see it remain green and filled with life. I always loved spring.” Her voice dropped. “I hate death.”

His heart turned over at the quiet despair in her voice. “Life is a journey, and death is only part of the journey. As Draicon, we were never meant to remain here, but came here to learn of the earth and its world, Emily.”

“My journey is ending. I don’t want it to end.” She flung her arms out. “I feel as if I have more to give, more to live for than being a sacrifice for my people. I want to celebrate each moment, not look

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