Chapter Six #3
That threw me off. The words, yes, but more because I knew exactly what reason lay beneath it, why I’d so carefully stepped back.
And stupidly, I’d hoped he wouldn’t notice.
Wouldn’t care. But he had, and here we were.
The moon’s pull clawed through my skull, the fight still thrummed in my veins.
My brain fumbled for an answer that sounded reasonable.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. ”
“Who’s taking the easy way out now?”
Heat flushed my face, and it had nothing to do with fire.
My wolf whined, leaning toward him when I needed distance.
His words slid down my spine, pooling low in my stomach.
I opened my mouth, but every lie died on my tongue.
When had we moved? When had we gotten so close?
His scent hit me through the blood and char, as if the binding potion was slipping and some of him was breaking free.
It flooded me, confused me, filled me with an angry yearn I’d never felt before.
I’d wanted males–few, very few. And I knew what I and my wolf became during the full moon. I always controlled it. All of it. No problem. But now heat crawled under my skin, wrecked my control, stole thought after thought. And I did something I rarely did.
I let go.
“Gods, you make me furious! You make me terrified! And I hate that I keep looking for you anyway.”
He stopped breathing. Swallowed. His predator’s eyes gleamed, and his voice was rough, almost broken.
“Be furious. At least you’re looking at me.
” He leaned closer, close enough my wolf whined again, close enough the heat of him pressed against me.
His jaw flexed, a growl curled through his teeth. “Why don’t you touch me anymore?”
I needed room. It didn’t matter that we stood in the open; he swallowed all the air, all the space.
His scent was intoxicating, a fever in my blood.
My brain scrabbled for an escape, desperate, failing.
He was too close. Too big. Too consuming.
And I hated myself for not being able to slow my heart, my thoughts.
For the undeniable need to feel him under my palms. On my skin. On my tongue.
So I shoved him. Hard palms to his chest, all my strength behind it.
He didn’t budge. Barely rocked back a fraction, torso straining but rooted. One maddening eyebrow arched, mocking, daring. Coward, his blood-smeared smirk seemed to say.
My wolf snarled, the sound ripping out of me and directed to the male. Arrogant. Mad. Infuriating. “I wish I were strong enough to wipe that smugness off your face.”
“Try, Princess. Try.”
Fury lit through me faster than any flame I’d ever conjured, stronger than any magic I’d ever wielded.
A master of control, I was ravaged by it.
Owned by it. I wished–wanted–needed–craved.
I snarled, my wolf clawing just beneath the surface.
I closed the sliver of distance left, seized his ruined face in my hands, and smashed my lips to his.
The shock of it ripped through me like lightning.
My wolf surged so close we were almost one at the same time, closer than we’d ever been.
And it still felt lacking. It didn’t quell my need.
It only amplified the absence, and it terrified me.
I broke away, stumbling back, air scalding my lungs. My mouth opened, words gathered–
But his hand shot to my throat. His thumb pressed against the frantic beat of my pulse.
His other arm hooked around my waist and yanked me tight against him.
Dangerous in a way that didn’t frighten me.
Unyielding in a way I knew I could break if I chose.
His growl rolled through me, rattling my bones, sinking to my soul.
And I wanted it. Wanted all of it. To own it, take it, to burn in everything he threw at me.
We stared at each other, hearts pounding, breaths racing, wolves ready to claim.
“Now what, Dierk?” I whispered.
And that was it.
He crushed his mouth on mine. Nothing sweet.
Nothing gentle. He burned instead. Burned me.
My will. My control. I was swallowed by his embrace, the sheer force of him stealing the air from my lungs until I was gasping into his mouth, into his taste–blood and ash and salt and something so wholly him.
My soul knew it even as my mind refused to acknowledge it.
My wolf lunged with the kiss, clawing to fuse us together, as if even skin were too much distance.
His stubble scraped my skin, left it tingling, raw.
The sting only dragged me closer, the echo of pain driving me wilder.
It was a punishing kiss, bruising, desperate, and demanding, carrying all the fury, all the restraint, all the feelings we’d been choking down for days.
His hands, rough and scarred, gripped and claimed, sliding over the curve of my ass, the line of my waist, the swell of my breast. Every touch was harsh, thoughtless, possessive. My leg tried to wrap around him, my scent spilling over his skin like the mark my wolf demanded I leave on him.
More. I wanted more. Needed it to the point of madness.
Our needs tangled thick in the night air, heat and smoke and want, his growl the most erotic sound I’d ever heard. He was barely contained violence and strength, his muscles tight under my palms, every breath a tremor of power.
He tried to lift me, and I cursed the skirt, its fabric tangling, fighting me as I tried to climb on him.
He snarled, jerked it higher, and pulled me against him–finally.
We stumbled a few steps before my back hit the rough bark of the nearest tree, its roughness biting into my spine as his mouth stole the moan that tore from my throat.
I was going to—
My wolf scented the stranger the same moment his did.
We stilled. In the next heartbeat, he shoved me behind him and shifted, a snarl ripping from his chest as his wolf exploded through blood and torn skin. His growl rolled through the clearing, deep enough to shake the air itself.
I stood there, flushed and panting, drenched in our scents, heart hammering against my ribs as the villager froze at the edge of the clearing with wide eyes and a pale face.
He stared at us even as he tried to gather what he'd dropped. “I–I’m sorry,” he stammered, backing up fast. “I didn’t mean to–I was just–I’ll go–” He shook his head hard, voice breaking. “I’m sorry.”
My wolf bristled at the interruption, but I forced myself to strengthen up, forced the heat and the trembling down. “It’s fine,” I said, my voice steadier than it should have been. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, my lady,” he whispered, eyes locked on the massive wolf that was Dierk. The growl hadn’t stopped. It pulsed through the air, a warning that rattled the leaves. “Thank you,” the villager murmured and ran in front of us and away, stumbling, vanishing into the trees.
Dierk shifted back, wiping at his face where blood had dried to rust. When his gaze found mine, his golden eyes burned with hunger and rage and something darker that terrified me by just how much I wanted it.
He said nothing. Just stepped past me, silent, brushing my shoulder like a brand.
He shifted again, but instead of running away, his wolf waited. For me. I shifted too. And together, we left the clearing.