An Immortal Christmas Page 8

  “It might have been too late,” he whispered.

  The cab lurched to a full stop. Constantine didn’t let her feet reach the ground, but took her in his arms again and climbed the few steps leading to his apartment.

  “Welcome home, Camelia,” he said, walking to the middle of a large open-floor loft overlooking the market and the bay. The sun had already set and a full moon was mirrored in the placid waters of the ocean. “Last time the shifter moon happened on a Christmas night, I made a wish.”

  “What was it?”

  “I asked the Moon Goddess to grant me the most precious gift.” She tilted her chin up to meet his eyes.

  “And did the Goddess deliver?” Trembling, he lowered his lips to hers.

  “The Goddess always does.” Her heart faltered at the gentle brush of his mouth over hers.

  Like prisms, moon rays were reflected through a colorful glass collection displayed by the floor-to-ceiling window, and she was infused with renewed energy. “We can shift together later.” Her wolf excitedly barked at the silver disk. “I heard there are dozens of parks within driving distance where we could go for a run.”

  “I’d love that…” His gait was unsure, and she worried.

  “Put me down, so I can enjoy the view,” she said, not to offend his pride.

  “We’ll do that later. Right now, I need you in my bed—” But he couldn’t take another step.

  Camelia heard his heart giving away as his arms loosened around her and they both ended on the floor. “Constantine!” She rolled and kneeled by him. “What’s happening to you?”

  He stared at her, his hazel eyes filled with love, and he raised one hand to caress her face. “It was worth it to see you one last time.” His hand fell limp to the side. “I love you—” his last words were but a murmur.

  Horror struck Camelia. Her aura healing skills had lent him some time, but she hadn’t broken the spell. Crying, she cradled his head in her lap and kissed him, her tears washing his handsome face.

  Chapter Eight

  Constantine wasn’t in pain anymore. He had been running on steam for the last hour, and he was now at peace.

  Camelia loved him.

  For that, he would gladly die.

  “Don’t leave me, my love,” she cried. “Great Wolf, please, don’t take him away from me.” Her arms enveloped him in a soft embrace.

  I would have done anything for a last moment with you, he sent his thoughts to her.

  But I can’t go on living if you are not with me. Not now that I found you, she answered, hugging him tighter. Then she shifted, and her body stiffened as she released him from her hold. “Goddess Moon, I call you to bless our union—”

  Don’t! he warned her.

  There’s nothing else I want but to be mated to you.

  I’m dying. A Sacred Heart wolf’s bond is for eternity. You’ll never be free to love someone else after I’m gone. He hated to have to say the words, but he loved her too much to enslave her to his memory if the spell couldn’t be broken after all.

  There will never be another man. Then, before he could stop her, she said out loud, “Under the Moon and the stars, I call you my mate. Now and forever, I pledge my body and soul to you, Constantine De La Vega.”

  Her oath gave him the strength to open his eyes and meet hers. “Under the Moon and the stars, I call you my mate. Now and forever, I pledge my body and soul to you, Camelia Del Rei.”

  It was done.

  Constantine’s heart beat like a drum for several counts, then stopped. A moment later, Camelia’s heartbeat replaced his.

  “We are one. Until the end of time,” she finished the sacred intonation.

  “We are one. Until the end of time,” he repeated, her heart infusing him with new energy, making him whole again.

  All the sadness and loneliness that had weighed on his soul for so long were banished to a corner of his mind, like a distant memory that was fast fading. His body tingled with the urge of the mating ritual, demanding he seal their love promise in the physical realm as well. Pushing on his legs, he reversed their position and cradled her in his arms, then kissed her.

  Camelia reciprocated his ardor with her own impatience, her fingers tearing his shirt apart, then lowering toward the leather belt. “I don’t think I can wait a moment longer to open my Christmas present,” she whispered when she reemerged from the kiss.

  He couldn’t help but laugh. That’s my Camelia… In between moans and gasps, he stopped to nudge her nose. “But I’m old school, and even if I was shunned, we’ll do things as a proper Sacred Heart couple would do.”

  “You are kidding, right?” She groaned, then bit his lower lip. “We don’t have time to find a bridal bed—”

  With a grin, Constantine strode toward his bedroom, then lowered her trembling body onto his bed. “Who said anything about looking for it?”

  Camelia raised an eyebrow, but followed his gaze to the headboard. “Oh, Constantine,” she murmured at the sight of the bed that hand once resided in their Spanish cottage.

  “I couldn’t part from it. A few years after I settled in Washington, I had this bed shipped over. Fortunately, my father didn’t burn down the cottage as I feared, and I bought the bed back from the servants who moved in.”

  “Even after everything you went through to forget me—” Tears filled her eyes and she pulled him down to her.

  “I was a fool. No magik could ever break the bonds of our love.” He sought her mouth and softly brushed her lips back and forth. “Happy Christmas, my love.”

  “You gave me the most beautiful gift ever.” She wound her arms around him. “Happy Christmas, Constantine.”

  Dear Reader, if you liked this book, please consider writing a review. As an indie author, I rely solely on word of mouth to promote my stories. Just a few words from you will ensure my work is discovered by other readers.

  Thank you very much,

  Monica

  To keep up to date with Monica’s new releases and promotions

  click here or scan the QR code with your smartphone or mobile device.

  Acknowledgments

  As usual, I must thank my kids and my dad for just being the wonderful people they are.

  Claudia, because she is the beta reader any author dreams of.

  Ava K. Michaels, for being an incredibly supportive author and friend.

  Katie, Kory, and Angela from my critique group, for their keen eyes in catching typos and their insightful comments.

  Lupo is way better thanks to you, magnificent ladies.

  All my friends, who are always very supportive and don't complain when I disappear for days.

  Roberto, because he is the true inspiration behind my heroes.

  Bio

  Monica La Porta landed in Seattle several years ago, where she lives with her family. Despite popular feelings about the Northwest weather, she finds the mist and the rain the perfect conditions to concoct new universes. When Monica isn’t writing or reading, she can be found painting on her digital tablet or sculpting. Whenever the sun shines, she comes out of her cave and treats her beloved beagle, Nero, to long walks into the Washington wild.

  Monica La Porta’s blog: www.monicalaporta.com

  Facebook Author page: https://www.facebook.com/monicalaportaauthor/

  Amazon Author page: http://www.amazon.com/Monica-La-Porta/e/B007DZFP8W/

  Goodreads Author page: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5757332.Monica_La_Porta

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/momilp

 

 

 
uttons">share