Angela Knight - Over The Moon

Their fingers touched. Just like that, awareness popped and crackled between them like an electric line gone suddenly live. Heat raced over her skin. Desire leaped in his gaze.

She tore her eyes away, popped the top, and took a sip. "Want me to set the table?"

Silence thrummed a moment, heavy with sexual awareness. "Sure." Lucas turned to get two steaks out of the freezer, then popped them in the microwave to thaw. "Glasses and plates are in the cabinet over the sink. Silverware's in the drawer by the dishwasher."

As she filled two glasses with ice, Elena decided to continue her explanation. It seemed wiser to give them both a chance to regain control. "For the record, the Chosen are the only members of the Direkind who are that patriarchal. Everybody else has pretty much the same attitude toward domestic violence as you do."

"So why are the Chosen the only ones still living in the Dark Ages?"

"The usual—money, power, and the willingness of everybody else to look the other way." She toasted him with her Coke. "But I mean to change all that—with your help."

He lifted a brow. "Which includes getting you knocked up?"

"Actually… yes."

Another vibrating silence. She found herself staring at his lush mouth. He took a step toward her…

The microwave dinged.

As if jolted back to normal, Lucas turned to get out the steaks and transferred them onto a broiler. "What's so important about having my baby?"

Elena blew out a breath. "It's complicated."

He shot her a dry look. "Anything to do with the Direkind usually is."

"Well, this is Direkind politics, which makes it even more convoluted. To begin with, the Chosen maintain seats on all the Clan councils, right on up to the Council of Clans for the entire planet. Which makes the laws we all have to abide by."

"Okay, I get that." He reached up and loosened his tie, then unbuttoned his collar.

Elena found herself staring at the hollow of his strong throat. With an effort, she dragged her attention back to business. "Well, unlike all the other officials, the Chosen's representative on the Council of Clans isn't elected—the seat is hereditary. For the past fifteen hundred years it's been held by a direct descendent of Wulfgar himself…"

"The werewolf King Arthur?"

"That's him. Arthur and his knights were Celts; Wulfgar and his Direkind warriors were Saxon. It was Merlin's way of making sure the two groups didn't get too chummy." Like the myths about werewolves, Arthurian legend bore little resemblance to reality. Merlin had turned Arthur and his people into the Magekind—vampires and witches sworn to protect humanity from itself. Apparently being a little paranoid, the immortal wizard had also created the Direkind and ordered them to make sure their cousins didn't start abusing the very humans they'd been created to protect.

"And you're a descendent of this Wulfgar?" Interpreting her lifted brow, Lucas shrugged. "That's what Stephen said, between warning me to keep my mongrel mitts to myself."

"Stephen always was a charmer. But he's right. My father holds Wulfgar's seat now, but he's dying."

"I'm sorry to hear that." He frowned, studying her.

"So am I, though we've never been particularly close, I'm afraid. I was always a great disappointment to Dad."

Lucas got down a couple of plates, then started forking the steaks onto them. "I can't imagine you being a disappointment to anybody."

She gave him a crooked smile. "One too many X chromosomes."

"Wanted a boy that bad, did he?"

"He had one. My brother didn't make it through his first Change." Elena shook her head, remembering the night she learned Robbie wouldn't be coming home. His magic had run rogue during his first attempt to transform, burning him alive. He'd been only seventeen. Two years later, Elena successfully made her own transformation. "Dad never forgave me for surviving when Robbie didn't."

"All of which means that when your father dies, you get his seat."

"Nope. Still too many X chromosomes."

Frowning, Lucas handed her a plate, then sat down with his own. "But women serve on the Council of Clans."

"Not in Wulfgar's seat. I told you, we Chosen are big on tradition. The only way a woman could hold that seat is as a custodian for a minor son."

"And you want me to give him to you. How do you know you won't have a girl?"

"It doesn't matter whether I do or not. Once I'm pregnant, I can legally declare myself emancipated from my father's control in favor of the new bloodline I just started. And once I'm emancipated, I'm no longer considered female under the Traditions, because I'll be the head of a household. Basically, an Alpha."

Lucas stared at her, a line of confusion between his straight dark brows. "That makes absolutely no sense."

"Yeah, well, that's the Traditions for you. Fifteen hundred years of accumulated rationalizations designed to benefit various people with a whole lot of money. Which, once I'm on the Council, I plan to methodically dismantle. Especially when it comes to the part about Chosen women being subordinate." She picked up her knife and cut into her steak.

"I hate to mention this, but there are eleven people on that council. What makes you think you can swing the votes to change anything?"

"There is a coalition of female council members who think it's time we abandon some of the Traditions. Or at least quit turning a blind eye to abuse. My father has always fought them, but if I took his place, I think we could get the rest of the council to go along."

"Bet your daddy would just love that. Does he know that's what you intend?"

Elena forked up a bite and chewed. It was surprisingly tender. "Oh, yeah. That's why he's so determined to marry me off to Stephen before he dies." Gesturing with her fork, she explained, "See, if Stephen gets me pregnant, he can assume the seat. So they're both determined Stephen's going to get me pregnant." She remembered the sadistic hunger in the man's eyes. "Whether I like it or not."

A muscle flexed in Rollings's jaw. "You saying he'd rape you?"

"He tried. Earlier today." She cut another bite. "I got away."

"I'm definitely killing that son of a bitch."

"Feel free."

"One thing I don't get—why me? I mean, there must be plenty of Chosen men who'd…"

"Be happy to take Wulfgar's seat? Oh, yeah."

"But you're not worried I will?" Comprehension dawned. "Because I'm Bitten."

Elena swallowed with effort, guilt turning the bite to sawdust in her mouth. "You'd have to be Chosen to hold it."

His dark eyes narrowed. "So basically, I'm a bodyguard and dick in one easy-to-use package."

She swallowed, forcing herself not to flinch at the anger in his gaze. "You're the only werewolf in the tri-state area who won't look the other way while they do whatever the hell they want to me."

"Oh, I doubt I'm the only one. I know a lot of werewolves who aren't assholes." Lucas threw down his fork. "But I am single, nasty enough to kick Bradford's ass, and here , so I guess I'll have to do."

Elena's muscles slowly uncoiled. "So you'll do it?"

"Fuck your brains out, knock you up, and fight a seven-foot werewolf on your behalf? Oh, hell, why not?" His smile was bitterly vicious. "I'm feeling chivalrous."

"For the record, I don't like this either." Elena leaned forward, those big, green eyes meeting Lucas's earnestly. He wondered again if he was being suckered. "I realize I'm taking advantage of your decency, and I'm putting you in danger. But the Chosen can't be allowed to simply go on acting like medieval lords with a legal right to beat the serfs."

Yeah, all that sounded like a cause he was willing to fight for. Maybe even die for. A childhood spent watching his mother dodge one fist after another had given him a serious hate for abusive pricks. Which was why he'd become a cop to begin with.