Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Somewhere else turned out to be a long way away.
For hours and hours, Lash directed us along a rough, narrow path atop the highest ridgelines of the forest. Eye level with the canopy below and balanced between steep drop-offs on either side, every step felt more dangerous than the last. Loose pebbles and rocks pinged down the cliffside, the echoes of their descent lasting so long that I couldn’t even guess how many hundreds of feet they fell.
It didn’t take long before I was forced to admit the trail was too dangerous for me to navigate on foot. Every few steps, my boot heels would slip on the unsteady ground, and I’d have to windmill my arms just to stay upright. I just wasn’t made for this kind of treacherous terrain.
But apparently, Lash was.
He had no trouble keeping his balance and leaped from one outcropping of rock to the next as if there was as much mountain goat as wolf inside him. After just a minute or two of watching me struggle, he swooped me up into his arms without asking.
And the trouble was I didn’t mind.
I wanted to. I really did.
Even as a child, I’d had an independent streak a mile wide. Everyone knew it—family, friends, neighbors. I prided myself on my self-sufficiency. I always made my own way and walked my own path.
But not anymore.
For the last couple of days, I didn’t walk anywhere. Sometimes it felt like I couldn’t even stand. My knees were wobbly, and my legs shook. The slightest wind threatened to tip me over—both literally and metaphorically.
Add to that the fact that apparently I couldn’t even seem to glance at Lash without my heart pounding like the UCLA drumline (even now, just being in his arms was stirring up heated feelings deep inside me), and I should have been thrown into a full-blown existential crisis.
So, why wasn’t I?
Why was I strangely fine crawling back into his arms time and again? Why did it feel so right to wrap myself around his neck and rest my head against his shoulder? Why did I keep catching myself clinging to him tighter than I needed to?
It didn’t make any sense.
Not unless I believed that bullshit he kept spouting about the Fates. Which just be crystal clear—I didn’t.
Not for a second.
Weird dreams and astral projection were easier concepts for me to wrap my head around. New age metaphysical crap like that was all over LA. In some neighborhoods, you couldn’t go a block without being bombarded with ads for tarot readings and crystal healing spas.
It was just part of the culture. Until now, I’d just never had any reason to question whether I really believed in it or not.
But fate?
Real fate? Ancient goddesses picking and choosing people to bind together until the end of time?
Apparently, that was a step too far…even for someone who had lived their whole life in LaLaLand.
There had to be another explanation.
Like maybe my dreams were simply dormant psychic abilities awakened by the stress of the Wilds. That was something that happened, right? I was pretty sure I’d seen it used as a plotline in a movie or TV show.
Who knew? If I got out of the Wilds alive, I could start my own psychic hotline. I heard those could make good money.
I distracted myself with thoughts of what I might name the new venture as Lash raced toward our somewhere else. I’d just settled on Felicity’s Fates and Fortunes when he finally found it.
“There,” he said, pointing to a deep hollow in the cliffside opposite us.
Another cave…great.
I should have known. It wasn’t as if a Four Seasons was hiding somewhere out here.
And as far as caves went, this one looked even safer than the last. At the very least, it appeared harder to get to. At least twenty feet down from the top of a sheer cliff, I couldn’t imagine how in the world Lash expected us to reach it.
“I can get us there,” he promised, sounding as confident as ever.
Even though I hated the thought of another free climb, I was surprised to discover I wasn’t half as nervous as the last time. I still closed my eyes, of course, but my hands didn’t shake as he swung us over the side of the precipice, and my palms weren’t sweaty as I clung tight around his neck.
His descent was slow and steady, every movement controlled. Funny, after living in a world of overblown braggarts and fake it ‘till you make it mantras, it was startling to find someone who was exactly as competent as they claimed to be.
Once safely inside our new shelter, Lash gently lowered my feet back down on the ground.
Opening my eyes, I looked up at his face. Damn, why did he have to be so sexy? “Thank you.”
His brows pulled together above his nose. “For what?”
“For finding us a safe place to stay,” I said. “And for making sure we got here safely.”
His dark gaze lingered on mine for a few long seconds, the fine lines radiating out from the corners of his eyes tensing almost imperceptibly. I got the sense he wasn’t used to displays of gratitude, and I couldn’t help but find his awkwardness strangely endearing.
“Now you say, ‘you’re welcome,’” I teased him with a smile.
But Lash just shook his head. “That’s what a kirre would do.”
For the first time, he didn’t sling the expression like an insult or sneer, as if it tasted bitter on his tongue. Now, he trilled the harsh consonants, making the word sound soft. Alluring even.
Like a siren song out of myth, I felt an overwhelming pull toward the deep timbre of his voice.
“Ok, then what would a ferus say?” I asked.
“Nothing,” he answered, cupping his hand around the back of my neck. “Why bother saying anything when you can do this instead?”
Thick fingers tangled in my hair as he bent down to capture my mouth with his.
Oh my God.
The breath left my lungs in equal parts satisfaction and anticipation. Yes! This was what I’d wanted. Not pleasantries or conversation, just the feel of his body pressed hard against mine.
Desire ignited in me, catching like a quick burning fuse and racing its way down to the powder keg deep within my soul. Once that chain reaction had started, there was no stopping it. Explosive need shot through every nerve ending, thrusting me into action.
Suddenly, I was kissing him back. My hands pulling at his clothes. My fingertips raking over his bare skin.
Goddamn. How could one man feel so good?
Even as the question tumbled through my mind, I instinctively knew the answer. Lash was no ordinary man. Hell, he wasn’t even a common ferus. He was something else.
Something more.
Pulling back just long enough to toss his shirt to the side, I marveled at the hard landscape of his body.
Every inch of it was perfect. Not in a classical sense.
Not like some cold, ancient statue where every line and angle had been calculated to the mathematical ideal. But perfect for me and me alone.
Last night, the long shadows of sunset had obscured my view of him, but now a shaft of bright midday sun cut across his torso, illuminating the canvas of taut skin. He really was a work of art, though far from a pristine one.
Dozens of scars criss-crossed his chest, running long and deep. Some appeared somewhat fresh; others looked like they’d had years to fade. The fact that he’d survived to heal from even one of these wounds, never mind all of them, was a testament to his strength and resilience.
It was also a part of him I could understand.
My scars might have been different. They might not have shown on my body the way his did, but I knew what it was like to be cut down again and again.
I appreciated the resolve it took to keep getting back up.
The courage to put yourself back in the fight after feeling the pain of defeat.
I knew the doubt that wriggled in the back of your mind when the odds kept stacking up against you.
I understood how much louder that traitorous voice grew with every cut and bruise, and how much more inner force it took to silence it.
All it took was one good look at his world-worn body, and suddenly I felt my connection to Lash deepen.
Sure, he might still be a reckless, violent ass, but he was one I understood.
One I could find a sliver of sympathy for as I tried to survive the Wilds.
But the alpha wasn’t content to be appreciated from afar like some museum piece.
After just a couple of seconds of my hungry eyes roving over him, he grabbed onto the bottom of the ridiculously oversized shirt that had been threatening to slip off my shoulders all day and pulled it down. The material fluttered to the floor, pooling at my feet.
His eyes narrowed, ravenous fire making the dark orbs shine bright.
“Fates, how can a kirre be so beautiful?” he growled, before tangling his fingers back into the fall of my hair.
A few days ago, I might have taken his words as a backhanded compliment, but not anymore. I felt the same way about him after all. Never in a thousand years would I have imagined losing my head over a ferus, but here I was practically drooling over an alpha.
Sometimes the world just didn’t make sense.
“You’re small,” he continued. “Every time I touch you, I fear you’ll shatter in my hands, and yet…”
His voice trailed off, a deep, resounding growl taking its place, filling the cave and echoing off the stone walls before he lifted me up into his arms. Without thinking, I hooked my legs around his hips, my head falling back in ecstasy as my core rubbed against the rigid outline of his cock.
And yet…
“I can take every inch of you,” I finished for him as his lips trailed down the sensitive column of my neck.
In an instant, his growl grew louder. More primal. Tightening his hold on my hair, he lifted my head back up, forcing me to meet his black gaze.
“Fuck.” His chest rumbled against mine. “Say that again.”
A hungry smile tugged at my lips. Sweet mercy, the idea that I could have this kind of power over someone so wild was more intoxicating than any drug.
Dragging my hands up over his shoulders and neck, I raked my nails over his scalp, clawing at him like an animal.
“I can take every inch of you,” I repeated before nipping at the soft hanging lobe of his ear.
“And you will.”
His voice was now so low it was more sensation than sound. It shook through me, awakening my nerves, stoking my lust. Wet heat blossomed between my legs, dampening my thighs. Seemingly on their own, my hips began to move, stroking the most sensitive parts of me against his hardness.
I bit into my lower lip, swallowing down a cry of anticipation as Lash cupped my ass with one hand, steadying me as he unclasped the front of his pants, and pushed the soaking silk of my panties to the side.
Apparently, this time we were getting straight to it. There would be no steady circular strokes against my clit. No slow tending of the fire inside of me.
There was no need.
After a full day of contact, of gentle friction with every step, our bodies were already painfully awake, aware, and ready for what came next.
Lash dropped down to his knees, using the overstuffed bag to cushion his fall. Leaning back, he settled into a seated position on the stone floor before pulling me down on top of him.
Air rushed into my lungs as the head of his swollen cock went from teasing my opening to fully plunging inside. Slick heat rushed out of me, flowing down my legs, and Lash’s as well, as his earth-shaking roar filled the cave.
Apparently, we’d traveled far enough away from Nelissa’s camp that we didn’t have to worry about being quiet anymore.
Thank God. Because I wasn’t sure there was a force on earth that could keep these sounds of pleasure from rising up in my throat. Especially once I started to move.
Legs stretched wide, I rode him with all the energy I could muster. Pushing my feet against the ground, I raised my body up the full length of his massive shaft before plunging back down again. Over and over, I kept going until my thighs burned and my legs threatened to give out.
And that’s when Lash took over.
Cupping his hands around my hips, he effortlessly lifted my weight.
Again and again.
Faster and faster.
Until my thoughts became fuzzy, and every part of me was swallowed up by a sea of sensation.
I shook.
Screamed.
Clawed at his chest and screamed his name over and over.
Lash!
Lash!
Until my voice was hoarse and every nerve rubbed raw.
Just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, I felt his grip on my hips tighten, and his back begin to arch. With a thunderous cry, he exploded inside me. The force of his orgasm was so strong that, even through my exhaustion, I felt every twitch and throb of his jetting cock.
And this time, I didn’t think twice as his knot started to expand inside me, stretching my inner walls beyond what I thought possible. I simply surrendered to the sensation and collapsed onto his chest, totally spent.