Chapter Seven
Marcus
The crisp night air hit me like a slap to the face as we stepped out of Club Luna. The adrenaline still coursed through my veins, my wolf pacing just beneath the surface, eager for more blood. I had to rein it in, focusing on the woman beside me.
Joanna was silent, her arms wrapped around herself, a shiver running through her despite the warmth of my jacket draped over her shoulders.
I led her to my car, the sleek black SUV parked in the shadows at the edge of the lot. I opened the passenger door for her, the interior light illuminating her face. She looked ashen, her eyes wide with the remnants of shock. She slid into the seat without a word.
The tires crunched on the gravel as we left the neon lights of the club behind. The roads were quiet at this time of night. The only sound was the hum of the engine and the distant howl of the wind through the trees.
My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel, trying to control the emotions raging inside me.
The sight of another alpha putting his hands on Joanna, the smell of his lust…
it had pushed me to the edge. I wanted to tear him apart, to leave him a bloody mess on the floor.
And I would have, if not for the pressing need to get Joanna out of there…
Before she tore off the necklace. I now sensed it was the only thing holding her power back, and without it, every werewolf in that club would’ve wanted her dead.
The dim glow of the dashboard lit her profile. She was chewing on her lower lip—a nervous habit I hadn’t seen her do before—while her hands picked at the hem of her dress. The rapid rise and fall of her chest was visible as she tried to calm her breathing.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked.
She turned to me with a nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little shaken up.”
I growled, my hands tightening on the wheel. “What did I tell you, Joanna? Going there alone? Dressed like that?”
She sat up straight. “I can handle myself, Blackwood. I’ve been doing this a long time.”
A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “You think you can handle yourself?”
She glared at me. “I had it under control.”
“Bullshit,” I snapped. “You were two seconds away from…” I trailed off, the thought too terrible to finish.
Joanna was silent for a moment. “I’m shaken up because you nearly revealed yourself to a building full of humans. The very thing you’re trying to prevent.” She crossed her arms. “Did you know the entry stamps had magic?”
I grunted, rolling my eyes. “Of course I did, Joanna. Do you think that was my first time at that club?” I winced, sucking air through my teeth.
Joanna glanced at me, her eyes narrowing as she noticed the blood seeping through the remnants of my shirt. “Turn right at the next intersection,” she instructed. “I have a safe house nearby. We need to clean those wounds.”
I followed her directions until we turned onto a quiet street. She pointed to a small, single-story home. Nestled between two larger houses, its unassuming exterior was forgettable.
I pulled into the driveway, cutting the engine.
With the input of a code on the keypad, the heavy front door swung open. Joanna led me inside, flicking on the lights to reveal the living room. It held one couch, one rocking chair, and a small coffee table. There were no framed photographs or a television in sight.
Joanna tossed her purse onto the couch. “Bathroom’s through here,” she said, gesturing toward a narrow hallway.
I followed her, the sound of our footsteps carrying through the house. My eyes roamed over the various weapons displayed on the walls like trophies. Books on hunting and tracking lined the shelves.
The bathroom was small. I washed my hands and splashed water on my face as Joanna opened a cabinet, pulling out gauze, antiseptic, and a pair of scissors. She turned to me, her eyes meeting mine in the harsh fluorescent light.
“I’m cutting off your shirt,” she warned.
I hesitated for a moment, then ripped the tattered remains off me, wincing as the fabric peeled away from the open wounds. Joanna’s eyes widened as she took in the extent of the damage. Deep gashes crisscrossed my chest and abdomen.
She filled a bucket with warm water, wetting a cloth and wringing it out. She began to clean my wounds with her gentle touch, yet I still winced.
“Sorry,” she murmured, her eyes darting up to meet mine.
“You’re good at this,” I remarked, hoping a conversation would distract me from the pain.
Joanna smiled, her eyes still focused on the lacerations. “Years of patching up hunters, I guess. We learn to take care of each other.” She chuckled. “And I’m only cleaning you up. I’m not wasting stitches on you, werewolf.”
I watched as she worked, her brow furrowed in concentration, her lips pressed together in a thin line. She was so close to me, her body warmth radiating against my skin, her scent permeating my brain.
She finished cleaning the wounds, patting them dry with a fresh towel. Then she applied an antiseptic, and the shooting pain made me draw in a sharp breath.
“Almost done, Alpha,” she mocked, yet she blew softly on the wounds to ease the sting. The feel of her cool breath on my skin sent a jolt down my cock, and I had to resist the urge to pull her closer.
She applied gauze to the wounds, taping it in place. As she smoothed the last piece down, her fingers brushed against my skin.
“There,” she whispered, as if she were talking to herself. “That should help until they heal.”
I looked down at the neat dressing, then back up at Joanna. Her touch still lingered on my skin. “Thank you.”
She nodded, her eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re probably the first monster I’ve treated,” she replied softly.
“Hell must be ready to freeze over.” She spun on her heels, pulling her braids to the side and exposing her nape.
“Now, help me,” she said, grabbing the crystal pendant that hung from the gold chain.
The first thing I noticed was the old scars that ran down her back. I fought the urge to lick each one and instead prayed to the Moon that the bastard who’d hurt her was long dead.
My large hands felt clumsy as I fumbled with the small, intricate clasp. My fingers, more adept at tearing through flesh than handling jewelry, struggled to find their way. I growled in frustration, and my heart raced at the sound of Joanna’s giggle.
After what felt like an eternity, the clasp gave way, the necklace slithering off. As it left Joanna’s neck, her aura burst free, a shimmering wave of energy that filled the room. It was like a dam breaking, a flood of power and emotion that stole my breath.
I stared at her, her back still to me, her head bowed. Her shoulders fell with a slow, steady exhale, her body at peace now that the weight of the necklace was gone.
She turned to face me, and when her gaze caught mine, I knew she saw it… Saw the way I wanted her.
But before she could walk away, I reached out. My hand found her cheek, my thumb brushing against her mahogany skin. A soft sigh escaped her lips, the rapid beating of her heart echoing my own.
“Joanna,” I whispered. I needed to get her out of my system.
Her eyes fluttered closed. I leaned in, my lips brushing against hers, a gentle touch that sent a pulse of electricity through me.
“Fuck you, Blackwood.”
I blinked hard, stunned by the absence of her lips. She stormed out of the bathroom, leaving my crotch throbbing with need.
“Excuse me?” I growled, advancing toward her, the wolf in me enraged. “What the fuck just happened?”
She whipped around, pointing at me, her voice laced with venom. “You get your dick wet once already, and you have the audacity to think it’ll happen a second time? With me? Ha.”
I stalked closer. The scent of this woman was driving me crazy. “What the fuck are you talking about?” I demanded.
Her eyes narrowed, and she jabbed a finger into my chest. “I saw you leave the club with that girl. The pretty brunette with the fake tits? Yeah, I saw it. And it’s fine. But you’re disgusting.”
I grabbed her wrist to ensure she didn’t run off again. Her pulse raced beneath my fingers. “Nothing happened.”
Joanna scoffed, trying to pull away. “Yeah, sure,” she retorted, disbelief etched on her face.
I released her wrist, only to grip her shoulders, forcing her to face me.
My fingers dug into her soft skin, not enough to hurt but enough to make her still.
“I left with her, yes, and I had every intention of fucking her.” I sighed, my eyes searching hers, willing her to see the truth.
“But all I could think about was that man’s hands all over you, and—”
“What does that matter to—”
“Because you’re mine, Joanna,” I declared, cutting her off.
My pants felt unbearably tight as the wolf inside me snarled, claiming her.
The air between us crackled with tension, the heat of both our bodies igniting a fire that threatened to consume me.
Because I could see the effect my words had on her.
“That’s the second time you’ve said that shit tonight,” she said, her voice low. “I don’t belong—”
I silenced her with a kiss. A hungry, eager kiss.
Within seconds, she leaned into it. Her body pressed against mine, her lips parting for my tongue.
As I deepened the kiss further, she moaned, her arms wrapping around my neck. I could taste her, the sweet, intoxicating flavor of her desire, and it drove me mad.
I lifted her, setting her on a nearby console table. My body fit between her thighs as books hit the floor with a thud. Joanna gasped as I trailed kisses down her neck. Her heart pounded, the rapid beat urging me on.
My hands slid up her thighs, slipping under her dress. She shivered as my fingers grazed her skin, tracing the edge of her underwear. I could smell her arousal, the heady scent making my wolf howl.
I hooked my fingers into the fabric, pulling it aside as I slid two fingers inside her. She cried out, her body arching against mine, her hips grinding against my hand. She was so wet, so ready. It took every ounce of my self-control not to take her then and there.
But I needed to do this right.
I pulled away, and her eyes fluttered open, a look of confusion crossing her face.
“Not here,” I growled, my voice barely human. “Bedroom.”
She jerked her head in the right direction, and I lifted her from the table, carrying her down the hallway. I kicked open the bedroom door, breaking our kiss only to find the bed.
I laid her down and removed her boots before climbing on top of her. She wrapped her legs around my waist, her body grinding against mine. I kissed her again, my tongue plunging into her mouth, possessing her.
She moaned, her nails digging into my back.
I kissed down her neck along her collarbone, my hand sliding up her body to cup one of her breasts.
It fit so perfectly in my palm, like a baseball in a mitt.
She arched into my touch, her breath hitching as I teased her nipples through the thin fabric of her dress.
I ripped the dress down the middle, then slid her underwear from her legs, revealing her naked body beneath me.
A few old scars peppered her skin. They each called to me the way her curves invited me to explore every inch of them.
I trailed kisses down her stomach, my hands gripping her hips as I moved lower, my tongue tracing a blemish that was all but faded.
And that’s when I saw it.
On her groin, inches away from her dripping center. The tattoo. The one that made her a hunter.
The one I had to thank for sending her to me.
Most hunters hid their mark as a safety precaution—to keep their trade a secret from werewolves with grudges. But this?
I was going to show her exactly what I thought of her fucking hiding spot.
She gasped as I slid two fingers inside her, my thumb circling her clit, teasing her. Denying her. She writhed beneath me, her body trembling with desire, her breath coming in ragged pants.
“Marcus,” she moaned, her voice a breathless plea. “Fuck…” We both knew what she wanted. What I refused to give her.
But damn… She was sexy.
I groaned, the gold gaze of my wolf reflected in her eyes. She didn’t flinch or shy away. Instead, she pulled me closer, her hands working the button of my jeans. The hard length of my erection strained against the fabric, eager for her touch.
I finally freed myself from my pants, my cock springing out, thick and hard. Her eyes widened at the sight of me, hungrily.
I was starving. A low, possessive growl tore from my throat as I claimed her mouth again, my body pressing into hers. I couldn’t wait any longer.
I slid inside her, filling her inch by inch. She cried out, but she took all of me, and soon, her hips were moving in rhythm with my thrusts.
The sensation built, my muscles tensing as I drove into her again and again, each thrust pushing us closer to release. She moaned, her body trembling beneath mine.
Then she cried out, her body convulsing, her orgasm tearing through her, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me. I followed her over the edge, shuddering as my cock twitched, spilling into her.
We lay there, our bodies entwined, our breaths heavy. I held her close, my arms wrapped around her, protecting her—claiming her.
She was mine.