Ritual Magic

otherwhen. Rule couldn’t give Lily the ease of the mantle or a wolf’s perspective, but he could make her body more compelling than her mind. He could offer her respite.
    Wonder of wonders, she accepted it.
    He rubbed and kneaded and she leaned into him, even making little sounds now and then—a low groan, a wordless
mmm
. Her muscles went lax and loose and warm beneath his hands. And if his body responded to that physical surrender, if the scent and feel of her filled him and stirred him, what of it? He was no randy adolescent. Desire could be enjoyed for itself. It didn’t have to be acted on.
    He knew the moment her body responded with something more than ease. He knew it a second or two before she noticed—and stiffened. Not pushing him away, but not willing to feel what she did, either.
    Still, she didn’t move away, didn’t so much as lift her head, leaving it tucked down. She muttered into his shirt, “I trust you’re feeling better now.”
    That made him smile. “I am.” He felt much better now, with her limp and relaxed against him. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you.”
    She sighed and straightened. “You are so strange sometimes. Why did we come out in the hall for this? You could rub my neck in front of Benedict and Arjenie.”
    “I could, but if we’d stayed in there, you wouldn’t have stopped thinking.” She would have been too aware of Benedict and his fear, which would have made her think about Nettie, which would set her to thinking furiously about her investigation . . . where she had some control. Or thought she did.
    Lily’s mouth twitched in a grimace that might have been agreement. “Well, my little hedonistic interlude is over. But, Rule . . .”
    “Yes?”
    She smiled faintly and stretched up and kissed him lightly on the mouth. “You’re welcome.”

SEVENTEEN

    W HEN they went back into the plush little lounge, Benedict was pacing. Arjenie stood out of his path, watching him with worried eyes. Rule took one look at his brother and inhaled sharply. What he smelled told him more than simply watching the leashed ferocity of Benedict’s movements.
    Benedict’s control was flawless, but it was not endless. “Benedict.”
    Benedict kept moving without a word or a glance.
    Rule pulled on the Nokolai mantle. “Benedict.”
    This time Rule’s brother stopped and looked at him. His face was blank, all expression smoothed out. His eyes were wild. Wolf eyes.
    “I give you a choice.” Only once had Rule felt the need to pull mantle on his older brother—when Benedict had been magically shoved into
fuerta,
a berserker state. He pulled just as hard this time. “Change now, and await news as a wolf, or go run.”
    For a brief moment Benedict looked at him with the eyes of a wolf—keen, sharp, and thinking. But not thinking as a man does. Then relief shivered through those dark eyes. He lowered his head, acknowledging Rule’s authority. And Changed.
    Humans weren’t able to see the Change fully. Perhaps you had to hear moonsong in order to see the way it threaded itself through a man, reaching out to grasp Earth so that together the two could fold him up through a place that was not here, yet was eternally present. For a second, the song of the moon reverberated through Rule, so clear, so pure . . .
    Then a large black wolf stood atop Benedict’s clothes.
    “I guess you didn’t want to risk missing the surgeon when he gets here,” Arjenie said briskly, stepping up to thread her fingers through Benedict’s ruff. “Is this better?” she asked her mate. Benedict nodded once.
    “He probably also didn’t want to split our guards,” Rule said. He inhaled thoughtfully. Good. Benedict wasn’t easy, far from it, but he was better.
    Arjenie looked at Rule. “He was okay, then suddenly he wasn’t.”
    “He pushed himself too far. The problem with having excellent control is that we grow accustomed to it always being sufficient. We can confuse what we think should be true with what is.” Plus, Rule suspected that Benedict, whose mate bond with Arjenie was still new, had relied on it to shore up his control more than he should have. Rule pulled on the mantle again. Not hard, but enough to reassure his brother:
If you can’t do what you know is necessary, I will make you.
“Benedict, your duty now is to wait. I prefer you do so in this form. Scott will let us know when the surgeon approaches so you can Change to a less threatening