Chapter 8
Gregory
The forest stretched in all directions, filled with cliffs, streams, and predators capable of killing an unarmed omega in minutes. I’d seen signs of Qilinx nesting near the ridge—wretched creatures that lured travelers in with harmless, appealing shapes before tearing their tongues out.
Evan was prey out here. I wasn’t. I was the hunter.
I possessed advantages he didn’t. Dragon blood granted me superior speed and endurance; if he vanished from sight, I could follow his trail for miles.
The moment I’d broken into a run, my emotions tore in two—a mix of relief that he was alive and a darker feeling—the thrill of the chase. My rational mind warned me this was wrong, but the beast inside took over. The urge to hunt was absolute.
To capture. To subdue.
My canines extended, digging into my bottom lip as predatory thoughts surfaced and a prickling current spread along my spine. “Evan!” I bellowed his name to the trees.
I spotted him ahead, bare feet flying over the muddy ground, and my blood sang with the chase.
He glanced back, jaw set in stubborn defiance.
Damn my eyes. Despite my guilt and fear for his safety, I was thrilled by this defiant version of him: untamed, fighting, rebellious.
This wasn’t the gentle florist with shy smiles.
He was fierce, and it scared me how much that stirred something inside.
The morning sun had already risen high enough to burn off the lingering mist, but the forest floor remained slick and unforgiving.
The mountain path wound on, empty as always.
No cabins dotted these slopes, the nearest house an hour’s walk down into the village.
Evan was running straight into the wilderness, and the sweet fool had to know it.
My muscles bunched tighter as I picked up speed, the power in my veins agitating, turning what should have been a simple chase into far more dangerous territory. That inner force begged for release.
Evan’s lithe form darted ahead with surprising grace, stirring hunger in my gut.
The strain behind my ribs became unbearable, so intense that my tunic suffocated me.
I snarled in frustration, grabbed the fabric, and tore it away.
Evan stumbled at the guttural snarl, his whole body tensing when he looked back.
“Don’t you dare, animal!” The defiant shout barely registered over the roaring in my blood.
My canines extended even further. The insult should have stung. Instead, it sent a wicked pulse of satisfaction through me. Evan recognized the beast I was and still had the balls to defy me.
I surged forward, closing the distance and grabbing his waist. Twisting mid-fall to take the brunt of the impact, I brought us both down. He landed on top of me, thrashing, fists pounding my torso until a deep, warning growl rumbled from my chest. That momentary freeze was all I needed.
Evan’s entire body quivered against mine, instinctively recognizing the sound.
Alpha. Dominance. Possession. Mine.
Rolling us, I pinned him to the forest floor, taking my weight on my elbows. Enough to hold him but not crush him. “Easy,” I murmured, the word more growl than speech.
I captured his wrists overhead as I lowered my face to his hair. His heady pheromones were a flood of fear, fury, and wildness. I nuzzled against the ginger strands, breathing him in like a man starved. My breath ghosted over his flushed skin, lips almost brushing his throat.
“Calm down,” I urged. His rabbit-quick pulse thundered against my mouth.
His panic was a tangible thing, and I forced myself to grip his wrists with deliberate care. The dragon in my veins desired more, but I held back. Barely.
“Not going to hurt you,” I said, trying to convince myself as much as him. A reminder, a prayer, because every predatory part of me screamed to bite, to mark, to claim what had always been mine.
I brushed my teeth against the junction of his neck and shoulder, my canines resting on tender skin without breaking it but still pressing hard enough to make us both understand what I was capable of.
I had that much control, though the urge to bite deeper, to taste what pulsed beneath, nearly undid me.
Evan’s breathing caught, his body going still as stone beneath me. He no longer smelled of pure terror. His body answered with a different scent, one that eroded my already tenuous control. He trembled again, and I breathed against his skin. “That’s it. Be good for me.”
Evan
Heat bloomed where Gregory’s teeth grazed my neck, a wildfire spreading through my veins and burning deep beneath my skin. A jolt tore through me, raw and wild, like waking from a nightmare I couldn’t escape.
A broken moan escaped me, my body moving on its own, arching into his naked chest even as my mind blared warnings.
I was slipping, succumbing to something I couldn’t fight, a feeling so intense it erased everything else.
I braced for violence, for pain, for his hands at my throat or his canines sinking deep.
This man had already proven he could destroy me without breaking a sweat.
But it never came. He held my wrists firmly without hurting me, his weight pinning me while still letting me breathe. That control, from someone who’d nearly strangled me before, left me shaken.
A sweet scent drifted from my skin, my thoughts slipping away until I was helpless under whatever spell he had over me.
“Stop your pheromones,” he rasped against my neck. “My thread of sanity is already gone.” When his hips moved in the next moment, something thick and hard nudged against my stomach. The firmness of his arousal imprinted itself through the thin fabric, unmistakable.
A stinging, unfamiliar ache settled low in my belly as I grew hard. The force of it took my breath away like a punch of pure desire. My body wanted things I didn’t understand, and worse, I was starting to want them too. That scared me more than anything in this nightmare world.
“What did you do to me?” I choked out the question, breathless.
Gregory pulled back enough to look at me, his stare locking me in place, and the intensity radiating from him was dizzying. “Trying to calm you down,” he said through gritted teeth. “But it has damned us.”
He ground forward, his arousal firm against mine, the linen between us a flimsy barrier. I gasped, my breath ragged and desperate, heat taking over as I bit my lip to hold back another embarrassing noise.
My arms remained trapped above me, fighting back pointlessly against his strength. Pinned under him, some part of me wanted this. His power, the helplessness, knowing he could do anything. I should have tried to run, but instead, I arched my hips up, wanting more.
God help me, I wanted more.
With a low grunt, he sat up, dragging me with him.
He shifted us, my legs wrapping around his waist on their own until I was sitting on his lap, spread wide on either side of his thighs.
The position put me right on top of his length.
A whimper slipped out from me. When had I ever made a noise like that?
His hands slid down to grip my ass. “Wrap your arms around my neck.”
I knew I should refuse, knew I should fight him, but I obeyed anyway, looping my arms around his neck and plastering myself flush against him.
I threw my head back, trembling as he held me in place, forcing me into the position he wanted. His fingers sent jolts through me, the sensation strong even under the fabric, and I sank down against him.
Wetness gathered where it shouldn’t, slick and strange. My body was getting ready for something I couldn’t name, reacting to his touch in ways that left me confused and wanting.
“Are you in heat?” Gregory huffed. His words had grown deeper and huskier, as if he were fighting for both of us. “You smell like it, but you’re acting like you have no idea what’s happening.”
Blood still streaked down half his face, though the flow had stopped, leaving a stark crimson path against his skin.
Dark hair stuck to his forehead, glistening with sweat.
He smelled too good for a beast, a mix of sandalwood and raw musk that spiraled through my senses, leaving my thoughts entangled with want and fear.
He was too handsome for his own good. The kind of dangerous beauty that made smart people do stupid things.
I let my gaze travel down his body, taking in his broad shoulders and dark hair that ran down his chest to his waistband where scars crossed his torso.
I met his eyes again, battling the urge to follow the path of those scars.
Up close, a small mole on his left cheek made him look even more devastating.
“I don’t know what the hell a heat is,” I panted. Every inch of my skin was hypersensitive, responding to his every touch. “I only know I’m on fire. And I definitely shouldn’t be doing filthy things with the freaking beast who already tried to kill me.”
Panic and hunger clashed inside me, leaving me dizzy. I betrayed myself with the slightest movement of my hips, the friction sending shockwaves through me. I had to bite back another moan.
“This world really is fucked up.” Something flared inside me, pleasure hitting every nerve. Nothing in my old life had prepared me for sensations this intense, this overwhelming.
Another slow growl shook from Gregory. It should have scared me, but it woke something hungry deep inside. His expression changed. The cloud of lust in his gaze cleared, his will snapping to something hard and controlled.
“No, this won’t do,” he bit out, withdrawing despite my cry of protest. His mouth set into a tense line, every muscle coiled taut with visible effort. “You’re not in your right mind.”
The whiplash from hot to cold left me breathless. One moment I was lost in feeling, the next, Gregory pushed me away as if my touch disgusted him.
His hands gripped my waist as he rose to his feet, taking me with him. My legs locked around him automatically, but the reason for the change became clear when he pried me loose and flipped me over his shoulder smoothly.
Blood rushed to my head as I hung upside down, his muscles flexing as he adjusted his grip, revealing more scars along his spine.
Jesus Christ, how strong was this guy? I’d watched him shred his shirt like tissue paper. What man had that kind of strength, and more importantly, what did it say about me that I was turned on by it?
“Put me down, you—” SMACK. A stinging blow landed on my ass, cutting off my protest. The sharp crack rippled out into the forest, followed by my stunned silence.
Did he just… What the fuck? My thoughts scrambled. The sting was real, a shock of sensation that blurred the line between pain and pleasure. I froze, unsure if I hated it or wanted more.
“Did you spank me?” I shrieked. The outrage was there, but it tangled with that traitorous heat pulsing through my veins.
Gregory’s only answer was the steady rhythm of his stride.
“I hate you,” I spat, pounding my fists against his back with renewed anger. Each strike landed against iron-hard muscles that didn’t flinch.
“No, you don’t,” he said, his infuriating calm making me want to scream.
I kept thrashing, desperate to break free, but his grip held like steel. One arm wrapped around my legs, holding me in place with casual ease—equal parts humiliating and oddly comforting.
“I’m not putting you down.” His hold gentled slightly. “Your feet are bleeding.”
Bleeding? I craned my neck to check. He was right, red streaked my soles from the rocks and twigs I’d run over.
“I can walk.”
“No, you can’t. And you’re not going anywhere until we figure out what’s wrong with you.”
The fight left me then, replaced by exhaustion and confusion. Everything was wrong—my body, this world, these feelings. No point in arguing. He wouldn’t budge, and I didn’t have the strength to try.
The beast carried me back to the cabin, his steady stride never faltering, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that running from him had been the real mistake.