6. KATIE
Chapter six
KATIE
S hrieks erupt around me. I am vaguely aware that my sisters are screaming my name. But every pore of my skin is opening, calling out to this stranger. He scoops me up, stumbling forward until we are in an empty hospital room.
I ought to be struggling against his hold. It’s firm but not painful. It almost feels familiar, as though he was a lover from years ago. But I know I’ve never met him. Callum .
He gently lays me down on one of the hospital beds, somehow moving through the room without taking his gaze from mine. His pupils dilate until they swallow the irises. I’ve never seen such endless inky depths. His weight pins me to the bed, sliding effortlessly between my thighs. Like a missing piece of myself has finally found its way home.
“Where have you been?” His rough voice growls in my ear, deeper than should be possible from such a lean frame. I want to ask him the same thing. I want to ask him what he’s doing, and to stop. And to never stop,good. because the way his stubbled cheek feels nuzzling against mine sends an electric thrill through each of my tired nerves.
I am alert to each of his movements. To the rise and fall of his chest. To the tiny rocking nudges of his hips. To the press of his fingers on my right hip. To the way I am enveloped by the scent, the touch, the taste of him.
I should stop him. I don’t know him. This is unacceptable behavior. But every part of my body seems to know him, seems to be making decisions for me. Decisions that involve dragging my nails up his back and shoulders to grab his wide lapels.
“Callum,” I whisper, his name like a prayer on my lips. Everything inside me wants to kiss him, to soften my legs further and let him in. To give him anything. To give him everything.
“I have waited years for you,” he purrs and my blood runs hot, a blush rising in my cheeks and flooding my neck and chest. “Blood to my blood, pulse to my pulse, hope to my hope.” He inhales deeply. “Cinnamon and maple. Spicy and sweet. Delicious.”
There’s a lilt in his words. Different from Nurse Angela—almost Irish, but not the same. It’s a sing-song that caresses me as much as his roaming fingers.
Distantly I hear yelling, and someone trying to pull Callum away from me. Yes, he needs to get off of me. That’s good, I need to unwrap my legs from around his waist.
But I don’t want to let him go. The weight of him is comforting. It’s intimate and arousing, but also calming, like a weighted blanket.
If weighted blankets had stiff bulges rubbing against my soft inner thigh.
“Get off of her, you creep!” Mads screams, but it sounds muffled. Every bit of my focus wants to center on this warm, intoxicating man.
A tiny voice in the farthest closet of my brain shouts at me to stop him, to maybe break his nose or at least push him away.
But I tug his coat lapels closer, raising my face so my lips hover just below his.
“Callum, we should…” I begin, but my words are caught in a kiss. His kiss is firm, but he doesn't force me. I part a little and he only darts the tip of his tongue past my lips. He pulls away and sighs. Someone–maybe Mads– grabs at his shoulder but he just rolls them off, growling.
I instinctively arch under him, exposing my neck and shoulder. Callum runs the edge of his teeth along my neck and collarbone. I want him to bite me. I want the sweet knife-edge of pleasure and pain. Fuck, I want to roll over on my knees and throw my ass in the air and let him fucking pound me while he bites me.
“Katie!” Molly Beth’s terrified cry wakes me from this stupor like an air horn next to my head. Or a shrapnel blast. Molly Beth, precious, tiny, sweet-despite-the-terrors-of-the-world Molly Beth needs me.
The haze recedes and I am fully aware that a stranger– a strange man is laying on top of me, his weight pressing against all of me. His erection is an insistent pressure against my thigh.
“What the fuck?” I shriek. For a moment he freezes, still between my legs, hovering above me. His black eyes are wide with shock, horror and — is that disgust?—racing across those depthless pools.
“Get off me, bastard!” I push him away, my heart shredding even as I force him back. I instinctively reach to grab him back, but he leaps up as though I’m too hot to touch. Too volatile. He staggers backward like a drunk, clutching his chest and panting like a dog. But his gaze never leaves my face.
“Inspector Murphy!” Nurse Angela grabs his hand as he takes an uncertain step toward the door.
“Angela… I, sorry. I have to go. Send the paperwork to Loren; he’ll know what to do. And, fucking get them to the Conservatory!” He turns his back to me, inhaling deeply once as he closes his eyes. Then he pops his collar back up as though to shield his face. Even though I want him gone, it hits me like a sucker punch to the gut. Like he’s walking out the door the way so many other lovers have. Like he’s walking out on me .
I have lost my mind. This man is a stranger–a stranger that assaulted me.
But Jesus fucking Christ, my heart feels like all its seams are popping and tearing. All the fragile bits of myself that I’ve cobbled together with duct tape and glue are now at risk of crumbling, all because the heat of him, the nearness of him, is gone.
Callum .
Nurse Angela shouts at him as he walks out, his shoulders an erect wall.
Molly Beth throws herself at me. “Oh Katie, did he hurt you?”
“I was about to gut the fucker,” Mads green eyes blaze with fire. She’s holding the knife I’d swiped from the cataloging room. How did she get that? I look around the room, still a little dazed.
My robe is in a heap on the ground. Ah. Well, that explains the knife. I run a shaking hand through my hair.
“Did he lick you?” Layla asks, her eyes wide.
“I’m okay,” I say, but my voice is unsteady. “He just pounced . But he didn’t hurt me.” I rub the side of my face, feeling the sensitive skin. It sends another, fainter, electric pulse to my core and stirs up the scent of lime and fir needles. I clench my thighs together, an overwhelming wave of desire rolling through me. This was assault, and my body needs to get on board and know the fucking difference.
“He was an Alpha,” Norah says.
I glare at her. “Don’t you start parroting this nonsense. We are humans, not wolves, and that was bodily assault. No excuses!”
I need to take stock of the situation. I need to look at exits and escape routes. I need to get the fuck out of here. I swing off the bed, but as I try to take a step toward the door, my angry, swollen knee finally gives out.
I cry out as I collapse. My sisters shriek and crowd over me. I need air. And a hot meal. And a shot of fucking whisky.
“Alright ladies,” Nurse Angela is back, her mouth pressed in a thin line as she glares down at my crumpled heap. “Please calm down. I am getting you out of here.”