Chapter 17
Chapter
Seventeen
KIER
Three fucking weeks on the road, and I still can’t get that kiss out of my mind.
We emerged from the tunnels miles from where we’d entered, the roar of helicopters nothing but a distant memory.
Since then, we’ve kept to the wilderness, avoiding towns and roads, sticking to forest paths and animal trails.
The silver restraints still burn against our skin, preventing us from shifting—a constant reminder of our captivity that we haven’t been able to break despite our best efforts.
The journey to Shadowmist territory should have taken two weeks at most. Yet here we are, still trudging through forests and valleys, taking the long way around. Neither of us has pushed to speed up our journey.
We both know why.
The moment we reach Shadowmist, everything changes. Lithia goes back to being Beta, surrounded by pack responsibilities, and I go back to being… what? A nomad? A guest? A strange wolf with no place or purpose?
So we drag our feet. Take detours. Make camp early. Break camp late.
Our excuses range from weather to injuries to exhaustion. All of them are true. None of them are reasons to delay.
She’s been gone from her pack for three months. It’s time to return her to her people.
“We should reach the southern border of Shadowmist territory by tomorrow evening,” Lithia says, dropping an armful of firewood beside our small campsite.
I nod, continuing to clean the rabbit I’ve caught for our dinner. “Good. Your pack will be relieved to see you.”
She makes a noncommittal sound, busying herself with the fire. We’ve fallen into comfortable rhythms over these weeks—I hunt, she builds the fire. I cook, she cleans up. We work together without needing to speak, moving around each other with ease.
“Are you nervous?” I ask, skewering the rabbit on a makeshift spit.
She glances up, firelight dancing across her face. “About?”
“Going home. Facing everything. Telling them about Zella’s plans.”
Her expression darkens at the mention of the traitor’s name. “I’m Beta. It’s my job to report threats.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She sighs, running a hand through her hair—still pale as moonlight despite the days of travel and dirt. “Of course I’m nervous. I failed them. I failed Kitara.”
Grief flickers across her face before she shuts it behind her trap door of emotions.
“You didn’t fail anyone,” I argue, settling the rabbit over the fire. “No one saw Zella coming. You need to stop blaming yourself.”
She nods, her gaze returning to the fire.
I watch her, wondering what she’s thinking.
Since that desperate kiss in the tunnels, we’ve maintained a careful distance during daylight hours.
We talk about everything there is to share—except the electric tension that crackles between us whenever we get too close.
But at night, when we lay our makeshift bed of pine boughs beneath the stars, all pretense falls away.
She curls against me, her back to my chest, her body fitting perfectly against mine.
I wrap my arm around her waist, bury my face in her hair, and we pretend not to notice how my body responds to her closeness, how her breath catches when I pull her tighter.
Every night I tell myself I’ll keep my distance. Every night I fail.
The rabbit cooks slowly, filling the small clearing with its savory aroma. We eat in comfortable silence, watching the stars emerge above the trees.
“Will you stay?” Lithia asks suddenly, her voice quiet in the night.
My chest tightens, hope and fear warring inside me with brutal intensity. Stay. The word I’ve been desperate to hear, wrapped in careful politeness that makes my wolf snarl in frustration.
I look at her, surprised by the question. “At Shadowmist?”
She nods, not meeting my eyes. “For a while, at least. Ryker will want to thank you for helping me.”
Ryker. Not her. Not because she wants me here, but because her Alpha will feel obligated. The disappointment cuts deeper than it should, slicing through the fragile hope I’d been nurturing.
She’s asking me to stay, but only as a duty. It’s not good enough.
I rise from my position by the fire, crossing to where she sits with deliberate slowness. Her breath catches as I settle beside her—close enough that our thighs brush, close enough that I can smell the scent that’s been driving me slowly feral.
“Lithia.” My voice comes out rougher than intended. I can feel the heat radiating from her skin, can hear the slight hitch in her breathing as I lean closer.
She turns to look at me, and I see it—that flicker of want she tries so hard to hide, the way her pupils dilate despite the firelight. She shivers, a soft sound escaping her throat that goes straight to my cock.
“If you’re asking me to stay,” I murmur, “ask for yourself, not your alpha.”
Her jaw tightens, and for a moment I think she’ll retreat behind her walls again. But she surprises me.
“Then stay. I’ve gotten used to having you around.”
My chest tightens.
“Geeze, Shadowmist. Way to beg,” I tease. “I’ll stay. For a while.”
She nods, and there’s a slight relaxation of her shoulders. We finish our meal in silence.
As night deepens, we prepare for sleep. The routine is familiar by now—lay out the pine boughs, bank the fire, check our surroundings one last time. But tonight, something’s different. The knowledge that tomorrow brings an end to our solitude hangs heavy between us.
I settle onto our makeshift bed, leaving space for her to join me. She stands for a long moment, gazing at the stars, before slipping in beside me. As always, she fits herself against me, her back to my chest, my arm around her waist.
Her scent—gods, her scent—is everywhere, in my mouth, in my lungs, drowning me in heat and wolf and the sharp, addictive edge of her need.
Her fingers slip under mine, guiding my hand up, over her ribs, over the beat of her heart, until I’m palming the soft weight of her breast.
I suck in a breath sharp enough to cut.
“Lithia,” I rasp—part warning, part plea.
“Kier, don’t.” She swallows. “Just… touch me. Please.”
Fuck. Fuck.
My cock throbs so hard it’s almost painful. My chest heaves, fighting to stay still, fighting to be a gentleman—but the moment she arches back, the curve of her ass grinding against me, I snap.
I slip my hand beneath her shirt, dragging my palm over bare skin, up to her nipple. It pebbles instantly, tight and eager, and I roll it between thumb and forefinger, relishing the strangled little sound she makes.
“More,” she whispers, and it’s like handing a starving man a feast.
I press my mouth to the curve of her neck, biting down just enough to hear her gasp, her fingers flying to the back of my head to hold me there. My other hand skims lower, dipping beneath the waistband of her pants, past the heat of her skin, across her damp curls into the wet, molten slick of her.
I graze two fingers over her slit, teasing but not really touching.
“Kier.”
Biting her earlobe, I slip a finger into her wet heat, finding her clit and loving it with the barest of touches.
“Gods above,” I choke. “You’re soaked.”
She writhes when I stroke over her clit—just once, a slow, filthy drag of my fingers. Her body arches like a bowstring pulled too tight.
I work her slowly at first, learning every gasp, every sigh, every broken little plea she tries to bite back.
I circle her clit, slowly, testing pace then pressure.
I alternate shapes and directions, discovering she’s more sensitive on her left, she loves pressure but not pace. Not until she begins to beg for it.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I growl, grinding my cock into her ass. I’m hard as stone and desperate to be in her. But tonight’s not about me.
I slip two fingers into her heat, and her walls clench around me, greedy and hot and perfect. Her hips cant, and she begins fucking herself on my hand.
“Please, Kier,” she whispers. “Don’t stop—oh gods, please, don’t stop.”
“Never,” I growl. “Never stopping, baby. I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your fucking name.”
She jerks when I curl my fingers just right, hitting that spot inside that makes her entire body light up. I press my thumb to her clit, stroking hard, steady, relentless, her thighs trembling around my hand.
“Look at you,” I murmur, voice ragged, lips dragging over her ear. “Falling apart for me, my little Beta. So good. Such a good fucking girl.”
Her breath is breaking now, little sobbing sounds as she claws at the blankets, at me, at anything she can hold onto as I work her higher, until—
“Come on,” I whisper. “Let me feel it. Come for me, Lithia. Come on my fingers. Let me hear it.”
She shatters with a raw, guttural cry, her body locking around my hand. Heat floods over my skin as she comes, hard, helpless, wrecked.
I hold her through it, whispering filth and sweetness, kissing the salt from her skin, the tears she doesn’t know she’s crying.
When she turns to face me, her mouth finds mine instantly—no hesitation, no armor, nothing but raw, desperate hunger.
Her hand moves to my cock, palm stroking hard and sure through my pants. I groan into her mouth, throbbing under her touch, so fucking close it’s embarrassing.
But when she fumbles at the button, I catch her wrist, panting against her lips.
“Not like this,” I murmur, shaking with the effort it takes to stop. “Not in the dark. Not when I can’t see every inch of you, taste every inch of you, make you come until you’re too wrecked to stand.”
She trembles, jaw tight, eyes wild. “Kier—”
I kiss her again, deep and slow.
“When you’re ready, when you’re mine for real, I’ll give you everything. Every filthy, fucking thing you want.”
She exhales shakily, resting her forehead to mine. “Your mistake. I’m only here for the taking tonight.”
I smile against her lips, tasting her, feeling her heartbeat echoing through both of us.
“Whatever you want, baby. Just know, you’re already mine.”
She lets out a humorless laugh. “Don’t get cocky, Nomad.”