CHAPTER 17 #2
There was nothing between us now. I sat in my own skin, holding Michael’s hands, but somehow, I was also inside of him, holding my hands.
He opened his eyes, and I saw myself through them.
My hair was wild from our flight through the forest. His sweater absolutely swamped my shoulders, and he liked that.
He liked seeing me in his clothes and knowing that with every breath, his scent filled my nose.
There was a fierce possessiveness to him I never would have expected.
A deeply woven set of primitive instincts. To Michael, I was his. And he was mine.
I nearly fell over from shock. I might have been confused about my feelings for him, but the same wasn’t true for Michael.
For all of my greater knowledge on bonded wolves, I was still fighting it.
Michael had simply accepted it. I was his mate.
The wolf who would share the rest of his life with him, one way or another.
And, oh, did he know how he wanted to share it with me. He wasn’t conflicted in the least. Even now, he fought the urge to lean forward and kiss me. The only reason he didn’t was because of what I had said about not acting on our attraction to each other.
I opened my eyes. Our gazes met. I stared at him and also at myself through him.
Like my sight, my feelings for him rebounded, branding me the worst sort of liar.
The kind that deceives themself. Like this, it was impossible to hide from my feelings anymore.
Impossible to tell myself that I didn’t want him.
That it was just physical attraction between us.
No, what I felt for him was somehow already so immense that I struggled to put words to it.
And now Michael knew it, too.
A triumphant thrill rose from him. His eyes sheened over and then lightened to amber.
As wolves, our eyesight was better, and he looked at me with renewed sight.
My hair was multifaceted. The flush that colored my cheeks was ten shades of red.
His gaze dropped to my neck, where my pulse thrummed through my veins.
I felt his small surge of aggression and realized that he wanted to bite me.
Mark me as his own. Unbidden, my memory of wanting to sink my teeth into his ass came swimming back up.
His savage pleasure only deepened when he realized the feeling was mutual.
“Michael, I…”
His amber eyes scorched their way back up to my own. His voice was low when he spoke, damn near guttural. “You don’t have to say anything. We can talk about it later, or not at all if that’s what you decide. Right now, we need to focus on caging my power.”
I wanted to say something. So, so badly. The fact that he was so readily able to shove all of his feelings and instincts aside and place my own above his made me feel not only respected but also cherished.
He was right. He needed to learn control. And I needed to move past my shock and confusion and focus on the task at hand. Afterward, we could deal with the rest.
Looking at him was too much right now, so I closed my eyes.
He did, too. Without our sight, our awareness of each other narrowed to touch and smell and feel.
I dropped his hands and scooted away from him, leaving only the last two.
I shifted closer to the fire, and the smell of smoke supplanted his scent.
Michael’s power pulsing in rhythm with my own became my sole focus.
I decided to talk to him through the bond instead of out loud.
The raw sound of his voice might be too distracting, and since we were already so connected, it was easier to communicate through it.
Like this, I said. In my mind, I pictured my cage surrounding both of us. Can you feel it?
I can, he said, surprised. He brushed what felt like metaphysical fingers against the bars, making me shudder.
Try to take hold of it with me. I reached out my awareness and paused until I felt him do the same. I began drawing the cage in around us both, slowly, so that he could see and hopefully understand what I was doing and how I did it.
Ah, he said. I was picturing it incorrectly before.
I paused my progress and let him get a feel for the bars. He brushed those imaginary fingers over each and every one, counting.
Is this number important? he asked.
Not the exact number, no, only that whatever number you choose, it never, ever changes.
I see, he said. If it never changes, it’s easy to always imagine it there.
Exactly.
He pressed against the bars, and they flexed slightly. Have you thought about trying this?
Suddenly my control over them disappeared. Michael took over. How did he even know how to do that? I felt the bars harden within his grip, like he’d reheated them and then forged a vein of titanium straight into their cores. I pushed against them. They didn’t budge. What the hell?
Now when you draw them down, they won’t resist, he said. And then he shrank the cage so far on our power that I felt like my mind was being squeezed by a boa constrictor.
Michael, I wheezed.
One moment.
The cage expanded, and I was able to breathe again.
With a thought, Michael put his barriers back up. I snapped back into myself, head spinning. He grabbed my shoulders to steady me.
“How is this now?” he asked. He was doing it. Caging his power on his own. And it didn’t even feel like he was straining.
It took me a minute to respond—I was still reeling. “Let it out a little more.” He did as I told him. “Right there. That’s what you felt like when we were first bonded. Try to keep it at that level.”
He nodded, gaze falling to the ground, eyes bleeding back to human as he focused. “What about this?” His power absolutely plummeted, so that it was almost entirely masked now.
I braced myself for the shock of the bond breaking, but this time, it didn’t. Michael was still there in the back of my mind, still a wolf, still smelled like my mate.
“How the hell are you doing that?” I said.
He looked at me. “Close your eyes and try. I’ve inherited your power. Perhaps you’ve gained my control.”
I did as he said, reinforcing my bars like he had, and then willing them down until I felt like my psyche was being put through a vise.
“Well done,” he said. “I wonder if…” His presence slid against mine in invitation. Layla?
I jerked in response. Oh. Hi. I guess our connection still works even when our power is caged.
Good to know. We should test the range on it at some point.
We can on the way back to my parents’.
“You know, I believe I actually prefer this to suppressing,” he said aloud.
“Me too. Especially since it doesn’t lessen the bond. You still feel like you in my head. And if you contain yourself like this and stop suppressing, shifting to wolf form might become easier for you. Less painful and less confusing.” I grinned. “I might not have to sit on you next time.”
He half lidded his eyes and sent me a scorching smile. “You’re more than welcome to sit on me any time you like.”