He kissed her lips, her breasts, her belly and below, drawing her gently toward the peak. But she would not submit so easily. Laughing, she tumbled him onto his back and sat astride him, the veil of her hair sweeping his face in a teasing arc. And then she made love to him, guiding him inside her. They become one being, and their ecstasy when it came brought the moon from behind the clouds, blazing in victory.
But they were not content to lie in lazy satisfaction when it was over. There was yet one thing they had never done together. Before Braden could speak his wish, Cassidy was Changing, dancing about him, nipping his hands with playful jaws. His heart swelled with pride and awe.
He Changed, and they stood shoulder to shoulder, fur brushing fur. She licked his muzzle, leaped straight up in the air, and dashed away with a mischievous yip. He pursued, and when he caught her they ran in perfect tandem under the bright moon, all the way home to Greyburn.
Epilogue
Greyburn, 1876
The thirteenth Convocation was without precedent. It was called but a single year after the last, when Stefan Boroskov had tried, and failed, to challenge the earl of Greyburn’s leadership.
The great lawn at Greyburn, bathed in late-summer sunlight, was awash with laughing children. Whole loup-garou families attended this gathering, from all parts of the world. There were no more formal delegations. The Convocation had become a joyful celebration of life, and love, and hope.
Cassidy crawled out from beneath the shrubbery, the lost ball in her hands. She tossed it to the gaggle of children, who resumed their play with waves of thanks. As an afterthought, she made a vain attempt to brush off her grass-stained skirt.
“Beggin your pardon, my lady,” the nurse said, approaching from the cluster of chairs and tables set up for tea under the shade of ancient elms. “I think young Lady Angela is lookin’ for her mother.”
“Thank you, Betsy,” Cassidy said, reaching for her daughter. The small face gazed up at her, grinning toothlessly from among the blankets, and a curled fist batted at her hand.
“Do you want some tea as well?” she said, tickling Angel’s nose with her own. “I hope that milk will do.”
Angela Edith Forster burbled, reaching for her mother’s chin. Cassidy kissed the tiny fingers and returned to her chair to look after Angela’s needs. The servants had become quite accustomed to seeing her feed her own child, with only a nod toward modesty, just as they had gradually accepted that the old formality and fear were banished from Greyburn forever.
Which didn’t mean, of course, that Aynsley was any less dignified, or that the maids failed to curtsy to their earl and countess. The respect was still there, but it was a healthy respect untainted by distrust and coercion.
She watched loup-garou couples pass by, some already long mated, others courting. The Cause was no longer about duty and arranged marriages, but Cassidy knew that those changes, too, were for the better.
With Angela cradled in one arm, she reached for the folded letters on the small table beside her.
The first of Rowena’s missives had arrived at Greyburn six months after her departure. It had been sent minus a return address, and Cassidy still didn’t know where in America Rowena had settled.
She unfolded the most recent letter and smiled, still amazed at the precise, perfect handwriting. Hard facts about Rowena’s life in America were scarce, as always, but one thing came through very clearly: Rowena was doing well, and she was content. Not happy, perhaps; Cassidy knew that her sister-in-law hadn’t yet confronted the fears that had gripped her so strongly at Greyburn, nor made peace with her werewolf nature. But she was free, now, to make that peace when the time was right.
As for her would-be American mate, he might as well never have existed.
The letter from Quentin was likewise vague and without return address, but it assured his loved ones that he, too, was well. He had never returned to Greyburn after his final disappearance over a year ago, but now they knew that he had followed Rowena to America and was, like her, making his own life there.