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Claimed by the Wolf
Saranna DeWylde


Gyspy Prince Stefan Zolinski has been raised to hunt down and eliminate werewolves like the one that killed his mother. So he’s faced with an impossible choice when the woman he loves becomes one….Infected by a virus she was working to eradicate, Dr. Bethany Andreas accepts the beast within her—but she can’t accept the betrayal of the man she planned to marry. Yet the passion that still burns between them does not lie: Stefan is Bethany’s one true mate. And only by completing their bond can they hope to save the world…







Gyspy prince Stefan Zolinski has been raised to hunt down and eliminate werewolves like the one that killed his mother. So he’s faced with an impossible choice when the woman he loves becomes one....

Infected by a virus she was working to eradicate, Dr. Bethany Andreas accepts the beast within her—but she can’t accept the betrayal of the man she planned to marry. Yet the passion that still burns between them does not lie: Stefan is Bethany’s one true mate. And only by completing their bond can they hope to save the world....


Claimed by

the Wolf

Saranna DeWylde






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


Dear Reader,

I’m saddened that we’ve come to the end of our journey with Claimed, but I’m thrilled to share Bethany and Stefan’s story. This was a step outside what I normally like to write about, because they had an established relationship. I love writing about the chase, watching as all the excitement and newness unfolds as couples learn to fall in love. With this one, they learned how to be in love after falling. Thanks for taking the leap with me again.

XO

Saranna


Dedication

For Jennifer L. Hart. Always.


Contents

Chapter One (#ua8b283ad-2084-5043-a324-ec763641e2d7)

Chapter Two (#u624eebb3-e73d-50b8-89d5-8de42f54f0bd)

Chapter Three (#u13efb3c1-91ea-5bb1-9ba2-5ff453e25726)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

About the Author (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One

“The asset has been terminated,” Prince Stefan Zolinski said to the company of men who surrounded him in the small clearing. The only sound he heard in response was the crackling of the torches that enforced the magical boundaries of their perimeter.

He sought out the eyes of each soldier, his Gypsy power pushing hard against their mental shields. He tested them for both their commitment and any weaknesses. It pleased Stefan that he found none. His team was an elite force trained from birth to hunt and eradicate monsters.

“The Aeternali moved up their timeline by partnering with the Department of Defense. Last report from the asset confirmed Dr. Ian Gevaudan is in residence at the Blue Ridge Research Facility and is continuing his vile experimentation. He’s produced a virus communicable through bodily contact with teeth and claws. With uninfected werewolves, it takes three bites. This virus can spread with a scratch to both monsters and humans.” Stefan met each man’s eyes again. “We have to take the facility down.”

He left the rest unspoken—if Gevaudan was permitted to continue unchallenged, he could infect the world, and the governing body that was supposed to protect supernaturals and mortals alike—the Aeternali—had sanctioned his actions.

Johann Graywald, his first lieutenant, spoke. “What intel do we have on their defenses?”

“It comes from Aeternali troops and containment protocol. If the walls are breached, there’s an F-16 that will finish the job for us with a containment payload. Get in, get out and watch it burn. Let’s move out.”

The men broke from the group, each attending to his duty and making themselves battle-ready.

“The asset—” Johann began.

“Is no longer your concern.” Something a lot like guilt formed a cold, hard ball in the pit of his stomach. It seemed wrong somehow to refer to Beth as nothing more than an asset. But that was what she’d been—a means to an end. She was a scientist on the payroll of the Department of Defense and the Aeternali. She was simply a way for him to gather intel about the Blue Ridge Research Facility so he could destroy it.

Collateral damage.

As he recalled vivid memories of Beth, the cold knot in his gut sprouted tentacles that twisted around his spine. Stefan found it odd they made him feel cold because his last moments with her had been so damn hot.

She had awakened that morning sleepy-eyed and wrecked from the night before. He could see it now as clearly as if she stood in front of him. Her red-gold hair tumbling over her pale shoulders, strawberry lips swollen from his kisses, the velvet feel of her slit still slick with the evidence of their coupling as she mounted him. Beth rode him, the sunlight slicing through slats in the blinds to paint her in a soft glow. She’d brushed her lips over his and whispered, “I love you.”

The last thing she’d said to him.

He hadn’t said it back. Instead, he’d drifted back to sleep after they’d both spent. He spread his palms on the table and stared at the map spread out in front of him of their target and plan of attack.

Johann closed a gruff hand over his shoulder. “There’s no shame in mourning her, my prince.”

Stefan steeled himself. “Her death was needless, and I regret I didn’t do more to protect her. That’s all.”

“There was nothing you could’ve done. Giving her Zoranna’s mark of protection would have alerted the Aeternali guard dogs. From what I hear, it wouldn’t have saved her from what happened.”

Stefan fixed his lieutenant with a cold stare. He didn’t want to discuss it. He could think about it later, after he’d assured himself that hell was nothing more than a pile of smoking rubble.

“We’re going to war, not a poetry slam. We’ll save the feelings for long nights by snapping fires with full cups of warm spiced wines in our hands.”

Johann sighed and shrugged. “As you wish.”

It would be great if Stefan could follow his own advice. He couldn’t stop thinking about that voice ringing in his head like a gong. As her fiancé, he’d been listed as next of kin, and he’d gotten the standard notification.

“I’m sorry to inform you Dr. Bethany Andreas succumbed to infection....”

Dead.

He snapped the utility belt around his waist and checked his equipment: guns, ammo, silver nitrate pepper spray, knives. He thought about what he’d do to the bastard who had infected her. Stefan had his own containment unit, and he was going to catch the guy, take his wolf skin and tear it from him like an orange peel.

Sweet Beth. So innocent and angel-faced. So trusting. She’d believed every sour lie from his tongue. Nothing could have stopped him from taking her home with him from the bar that night. Stefan hadn’t expected her to be so beautiful, so wild. He hadn’t expected to want to burn in the fire of her hair. For a moment, when they’d met, he’d thought he was going to have to rethink his game and that a mild-mannered accountant wasn’t at all the kind of man who’d move her.

But they’d fucked that first night in the back of her truck under a black, moonless sky.

Stefan had thought if he ever got The Call, he’d feel something...different. Something besides this cold that burned. He’d always known her death was a possibility. She had a dangerous job working with infectious diseases and biowarfare for the Department of Defense. The chances of injury, infection and death were always present—upped exponentially by her involvement with the Aeternali, the supernatural governing body. They were corrupt and foul themselves, turning over their own people for experimentation and even death. The Gypsy hated the Aeternali with a fire so hot it was a physical burn.

Though, somehow, it all paled in the pervasive dark shadow that had hung over him since losing Beth.

He remembered the oddest things from that last day—the smell of her pomegranate shampoo on the pillow, the way the covers rumpled over her side of the bed, the bumblebee slippers on the floor where she’d left them.... They were all tiny things, but they were things she’d never do again.

The dress on the form in the corner, the one she’d sewn by hand for their wedding—it would disintegrate where it hung. The fact shouldn’t have surprised him. How far was he willing to take the ruse, after all? He didn’t listen to the voice in the back of his head that shouted “all the way.”

Her essence still so present, he hadn’t gone back to their little log cabin. As much as he hoped, it wasn’t as if she’d walk through the door any minute and tell him there’d been some kind of mix-up. As if she’d fall into his arms, and there wouldn’t be any need for words. He didn’t have them, anyway.

For the first time in his long existence, Stefan was lost. He didn’t know how to be in his own skin, how to feel, because he wasn’t supposed to feel anything at all—Beth had been a tool. Simply a means to an end. He’d seduced her, manipulated her, and proposed to have access to her and what was going on at the facility. He wasn’t so supposed to care what happened to her when he was done, but now there was this sinkhole in his chest that had been there for a week and it wasn’t going away any time soon. His prime directive had been to find out what exactly the Department of Defense and the Aeternali were doing with the werewolves they’d captured—what kind of superweapon they’d made.

Then he’d figure out how to kill it.

That was what Stefan Zolinski did—what he was born for. He hunted monsters, and he killed them. Werewolves brought nothing but grief to the world, and they should’ve been systematically exterminated when the first one had drawn the breath of life into its lungs. While his sister had turned Guild cop to hunt the beasts that had slaughtered their mother, Stefan didn’t give a damn about being fair to the Aeternali and adhering to their laws. He was Gypsy, and they were a law unto themselves.

Dr. Ian Gevaudan, designer of the zombie virus, and the wolf-beast, Konstantin, would both pay for what they’d done. It was a debt that wouldn’t be satisfied without blood and death.

Bethany would be avenged.


Chapter Two

Cedar and bergamot—Stefan. Bethany would know his scent anywhere.

She also knew he was going to die. The Blue Ridge Research Facility had erupted in a war zone of explosions, gunfire and blood. He was an accountant, not a soldier. Beth scanned the landscape for him, sure he was near. Following the scent, she focused on finding the origin.

Bethany was hungry for the sight of him—her fiancé. When she had been in the terrarium gathering information on the victims of the virus and had realized she’d been infected with the LZ—the lycanthropic zombie virus—she had been sure her life was over and that in minutes she’d become some snarling cannibal dog only looking to fill her belly with meat. Any meat. The sound of the emergency doors locking her in with the beasts had been like the clanging of the gates of hell.

Dr. Daphne Panetta, her boss and best friend, had been the one to slam those doors, but it’d had to be done, they couldn’t risk releasing the virus. She’d understood, and Daphne had stood with her, watching her transformation as much to bear witness and be with her as to study her. Daphne’s nearness had been a comfort, and Bethany had felt like she wasn’t facing the darkness alone.

When the attack on the facility had begun, she had been glad to see Konstantin, the other test subject whose virus was like Bethany’s, carry Daphne away from the carnage. He’d promised her he’d keep her safe, and Beth didn’t doubt it. There was some connection between them, and whether Daphne accepted it or not, they were mated. They belonged together.

When Konstantin had scratched Beth, he’d infected her as a way to help her. His action prevented her from becoming a mindless beast; but it changed her, too, on a cellular level, and there was no undoing it.

Bethany was no longer human—she was a werewolf.

She assumed Stefan had gotten The Call—the next-of-kin notification done by the Department of Defense. But if he thought she was dead, what insanity made him think he could storm the facility like some avenging god? She shook her head and scanned the landscape for Stefan again. She had to find him. The jet with the containment protocol was most likely already in the air.

Her appraisal focused on a man who smelled like Stefan, but the man in her line of sight couldn’t be him.

He was bigger somehow, taller—stronger. He wore his uniform like a second skin, barked orders like a man used to being obeyed. This man cut through his enemies with deadly precision. Each Aeternali soldier who engaged him paid with his life. He was a stone-cold killer—the perfect weapon. There was no hesitation, no remorse. Only death. If this man was an accountant, it was in hell tallying the dead he sent before him.

Epiphany splashed over her like ice water.

He’d lied to her.

It was obvious Stefan was here to kill the things she’d studied, maybe even kill her now that she’d been infected. He’d used her to mine information. How could she have been so stupid?

The knowledge settled with heavy weight in her human consciousness, but in her wolf form it was the beast who was in control. The beast didn’t understand betrayal—that was a human emotion. All the beast knew was that her mate was under attack. When uninfected werewolves poured from the blast hole in the facility wall, Bethany launched herself toward him.

Even as she leaped, he pulled out knives that caused lycanthropic flesh to smoke and tear without regenerating. There was no tang of fear to his scent—he obviously knew exactly what he was doing and exactly what kind of creature he faced. He ripped through the werewolves like paper. They roared and he roared back—a guttural war cry filled with rage.

Beth added her own roar, drowning out the other wolves. Since there were only two of her kind, by default Beth was a Beta wolf to the Alpha of Alphas. She was an Alpha in her own right, and wolves, even of another species, would submit to her might.

Mine, she said to the other wolves. Mine. She lay claim to all the men with Stefan but left the remaining Aeternali for the others. The soldiers were the ones who’d imprisoned them—their own government had handed them over for testing without pause. The tide of wolves turned on the Aeternali soldiers with fierce jaws and brutal claws. She pushed images of the destruction headed their way into their minds and hoped they understood.

She turned to Stefan and his knives were still at the ready—his brows drawn together in confusion as he looked into her changed eyes. He may have been confused, but disdain curled his lip back in a sneer.

“Looks like you have a fan,” a voice echoed from the throng.

“Silence,” Stefan demanded, and silence reigned.

Beth stood bipedal, her wolf form making her as tall as Stefan. Her breath came out in quick puffs, bringing her tongue out as she tasted the pheromones in the air. The coppery tang of fear and blood splashed together, but none of it was from Stefan. She wondered if revulsion had a taste and if she’d mistaken it for something else.

Her heart twisted in her chest and all the hopes and dreams she’d had for their future together were discarded. He hated what she was, and even if he didn’t, he’d never loved her. He’d used her, lied to her, and all those dreams she’d mourned were nothing but broken glass.

She didn’t want to feel this as the beast; Beth needed her humanity. She didn’t care how he’d react.

As soon as her human consciousness was in the forefront and her human form washed over her, she was hit with a tidal wave of memories. All the planning that had gone into their wedding—the seating charts, the chapel, her colors... Things they were going to do together, memories they talked about making. Shame flooded her. How stupid he must’ve thought her with her silly plans.

“What are you doing, Stefan? You know about the bomber.”

He flinched away from her when she changed form. Her nakedness and humanity were somehow more abhorrent to him than her wolf form. “We were supposed to be in and out. Then the wolves came.” His voice was devoid of emotion.

Not that she expected him to have any. He’d lied about everything. Seduced her with cold calculation, inserted himself into her life until she believed a life without him was unthinkable. Even as she tallied his sins, the love she felt for him didn’t diminish. Though she desperately wanted it to. The man she’d fallen for wasn’t real; it was a pretty mask he’d made. Still, her beast roared, Mine.

No, not ours. Not real.

Mine.

“That wasn’t a very good plan, was it?” she said softly. Beth wanted to flee, not just the bomber but everything he made her feel. The pain, the humiliation and that damned torch he’d ignited in her—love. Only, it was so much more than love. It was unquantifiable. It was more and it was less, it was everything and nothing. It was the reason she couldn’t leave him here to die alone.

The beast wouldn’t let her, even if her humanity told her he had it coming.

He stood, knives drawn—frozen. “They told me you were dead.”

“I know.” She reached out to touch his arm, but he jerked away from her like she’d tried to burn him with a hot poker. Beth was struck by the ridiculousness of the situation. He was the one who had betrayed her, but he got to play the injured party. She was so angry with him, but with death looming, it didn’t matter so much.

The sound of the jet rumbled in her ears.

“Do you want to live?” she asked him, her tone still low and soothing. Beth wasn’t ready to give up yet. She didn’t want to die, and even though she wanted to kick him with a brick, she didn’t want him to die either.

One of the uninfected werewolves, obviously an Alpha by his size and bearing, took human shape and approached them. “Bethany, the jet comes. Leave the Gypsy scum.”

“The Gypsy scum freed you. You owe them a debt,” Beth said.

He snarled, muzzle erupting from his face as his beast overcame him.

Stefan immediately shoved her behind him, his grip like a brand on her wrist. Beth put her hand on his shoulder, and once he realized she was touching him, he shrugged her off. It hurt, but Beth was determined. They had only minutes left. She stepped around her would-be protector.

“Konstantin was once the Beta to Luka Stanislav, your Alpha. He still speaks for him and I speak for Konstantin. Help me save the Gypsies and your debt is resolved.” She turned to Stefan. “Drop your silver and you can save all of your men.”

“We do not fear death,” Stefan assured her.

“You owe me a debt, Stefan. You betrayed me. Let us save you and then we can both walk away.” She fought as much for her own life as she did for his.

He looked at her, an unrecognizable expression on his face.

As the seconds ticked by, Beth knew they were reaching the point of no return—where even if he agreed to let her save him, they’d be doomed. She wouldn’t leave him. It didn’t matter to her beast what he’d done, he was still her mate.

She sighed and turned to the other wolf. “Go. You don’t need to die here.”

Beth had already resigned herself to death once; maybe he was just now catching up with her.

The other wolf looked at her, head cocked to the side. “We stand with you.”

“Take my men,” Stefan croaked, and then called the order to stand down.

Beth nodded to the wolf and watched as they bounded away with their passengers. She knew she’d done a good thing. She’d been unable to stop or cure the infection, but saving those lives would have to do.

“What are you doing, Beth?” he asked, sounding tired and dejected.

“Staying with you.”

“Go. You can still make it.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

She shook her head. “No. I can’t. Wolves mate for life. You were my mate when I was turned. You still are. I couldn’t leave you here if I wanted to.”

“But it was a lie.” Incredulity stained his words.

She snarled and pushed at his shoulders with no care for his silver or his weapons. “Don’t you think that’s obvious? I may have been stupid enough to fall in love with a pretty mirage, but I can see the writing on the wall. If I could leave you here, I would, you bastard. It’s what you deserve. I don’t want to die!” she cried and shoved at his shoulders again. “I had dreams, and just because you’re not part of them anymore doesn’t mean they’re gone. I still want a home, a family. I want to help people. I could still have that. But no, you’d rather stay here and rot instead of accepting help from something you hate. The animal doesn’t understand betrayal. It doesn’t understand lying. The human part of me wants to hate you, but the beast won’t let it.” Fear choked her as the roaring of the jet reverberated ever louder in her ears. “So thanks for making that choice for me, too.”

“That’s ironic as hell, isn’t it?” he asked gently.

“Because you kill them? Things like me?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not irony.”

“Then what is it?” His dark eyes searched her face as if he actually didn’t understand.

Tears streamed down her face as a million memories crashed over her in a tsunami. Her first chemistry set, her doctorate, the night when she’d met him. The way he’d touched her, the first time he’d told her he loved her. When he asked her to marry him. It was nothing now—just like her. In about one minute there’d be nothing left of them but ash. None of it mattered. What she wanted, what she’d hoped, even his betrayal. In the endless ocean of time, she was nothing more than a molecule.

“Over.” She shrugged as the F-16 entered the airspace above them and dropped its payload.


Chapter Three

Beth was alive.

Stefan didn’t understand. She’d been infected—turned. She didn’t look sick, and she still had her human consciousness when she changed. All of the beasts at the facility did. He’d never seen that behavior before. That didn’t negate the fact they were brutal dogs, but it did change how he’d deal with them in the future.

Studying her, she still looked human. She looked like the same beautiful woman she’d been the last time he’d seen her, the last time he’d touched her. Except for her eyes—they were electric-blue shining out into the darkness—strangely hypnotic.

I love you, she’d said.

He could admit now he’d mourned her death. But here she was in the warm, living, breathing flesh claiming she couldn’t leave him—even after all he’d done. The guilt from earlier blossomed into something else, something he couldn’t name and didn’t want to give voice to.

As the prince of his people, he had special magic he knew he could use to save himself. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to shield all of his men from the bomb, but he could save himself.

He could save her. She didn’t have to die, not for him.

Logic argued he would only make things harder. It would save him the trouble of putting her down if he let the bomb have her. He killed werewolves. Beth was a werewolf. He couldn’t reasonably let her continue to draw breath.

He couldn’t let her die either. The thought of watching her incinerate while he protected himself with his magic was a poison dagger that twisted in his gut and ripped something vital from him.

Decision made, the Mark of Zoranna on his neck burned as he summoned his power. It crackled in violent spears of lightning that struck the earth, and he dragged her against him just as the bomb hit.

Heat blasted through his shields, but it was nothing compared to the fire that the feel of her nakedness pressed against his body ignited in him. His flesh remembered what it was like to touch her, taste her and have her wrapped around him while she cried out in ecstasy. His cock didn’t care what was beneath her skin. Only that she felt like heaven.

Even with his silver, his weapons and his lies, she came into his arms so easily. The world was on fire and burned to ash around them, but the only thing that mattered in this moment out of time was touching her.

“Beth,” he said, his voice thick.

“Don’t,” she pleaded. “Aren’t I broken enough?”

“I’ll put you back together,” he swore. “This was always good between us, and I swear to the Goddess it was real.”

“You don’t have to keep lying.”

He gripped her tighter against him so she could feel his arousal. “Does this feel like a lie?”




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