CHAPTER 8
Are you sure you’re all right?” Michael asked.
I sat up, a hand pressed to my temple. It felt like my brain was trying to push itself out of my skull through my ears. “Yes?”
He didn’t look reassured. Those magic-induced black eyes roamed over me, and his nostrils flared as he scented me. He held himself perfectly still, almost like he was waiting to catch me again if I swooned. Panic and remorse rose from the corner of my mind where he’d taken up residence.
“How long was I out for?” I asked.
He dragged in another breath, chest heaving in a way that drew my gaze. “Only a few moments. I know we’re on an apology ban, but I truly am sorry.”
I lifted my eyes back to his. “It’s okay.”
He shook his head, just a quick jerk that spoke of his frustration. “I sank too much power into the binding. You’re so strong, and I feared your magic might be, too. It seemed safer to overdo it, but I didn’t realize I went too far until you lost consciousness.”
I reached out and gripped his shoulder. “Michael.” He stilled beneath my touch, dark eyes boring into mine. “I forgive you. And for what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing. Better to be safe than sorry.”
His exhale was long and slow. I could see the tension leaking from his body, feel his worry slip from my mind.
His focus dropped from my eyes, traced over my nose, and landed on my lips.
One big hand came up to frame my face, and he used his grip to tug me close, pressing his forehead against mine. I closed my eyes and breathed him in.
“I just want a day with you without violence or pain,” he said, voice gone low. A complex mix of emotions came through—anxiety, lust, affection, possessiveness—but a sense of exhaustion was chief among them. We’d been running from one calamity to the next, and both of us were reaching our limits.
“Then that’s what we’ll focus on to get us out of here,” I told him. “A whole day when all we do is sleep and mate and eat.”
His thumb stroked over my cheek, and a happy rumble rose in the back of his throat. “I’d like that.”
I opened my eyes and pulled away just enough to meet his gaze. “How do I bind you so we can get out of here?”
His response was swift and unexpected, anger lancing through his one-word answer. “No.”
I arched a brow. “No?”
He shook his head, muscles bunching up again, tension returning to that big body. “I won’t be bound. I can’t…” A shudder ran through him. “Layla, I can’t submit to that right now.”
I nearly sighed. The fricking bond again. Or was it his burgeoning alphahood? Either way, it didn’t matter. The stubborn edge to his thoughts was so strong that even with our shields back in place, I could almost catch the whisper of no, no, no running through his mind.
“I understand,” I said. “You want to have all of your weapons available if we’re threatened or have to defend ourselves.”
He nodded, jaw clenched.
“Can you at least hide it like you hide your other powers? Or are we walking out of here with metaphysical guns blazing?”
Something in the back of my mind, something that didn’t feel like Michael, was screaming that we hunker down somewhere and hide, that something bad was coming, but I couldn’t, wouldn’t take this decision from him.
He knew the city, knew his mother. If he felt like he needed a massive show of power, and the only way to do that was to reveal his magic, then so be it.
But I didn’t think that was what this was, and he proved me right a moment later.
His thumb stroked over my lips one last time before his hand dropped from my face.
His eyes fluttered shut, and I watched him take several steadying breaths.
I was proud of myself for keeping my gaze on his face, for not looking down, watching those dense muscles relax as he got control of himself.
The electric hint of aether slipped from his scent, replaced by the smell of wild things.
By the time he opened his eyes again, they were back to their usual warm brown, and he smelled like any other null wolf.
A metaphysical shiver ran through my mind, and I could feel him pacing behind another set of imaginary bars.
If I concentrated, I could almost see them glowing an incandescent gold.
“Will you be able to maintain this?” I asked.
The discomfort of caging two sets of powers simultaneously must have been borderline unbearable, but Michael felt totally fine in my mind—steady, calm, back to the man I first met.
Part of me wondered if it was a calm made of glass, and one careless nudge might shatter it.
His gaze dropped from mine, straight to my breasts. “I can maintain this. As long as I remember the reward for holding myself together until we’re out of the city.”
The reward being him and me all alone in a heavily warded cabin.
You do not have time to proposition him, I reminded myself, even though all I wanted to do was drag him down to the blanket and make him lose himself again.
Part of that was pure, unadulterated lust, but another part of that was less evolved.
My mate was bound, his magic hidden, his wolf powers shackled.
It made me want to growl. To rip at the bars of his cages and return him to his natural state.
I forced myself to turn my back to him. “Is the spell dry?”
Sparks fizzled into my skin when his fingers brushed over me. “It’s dry.”
Ten minutes later, we were dressed and packed.
We’d fled this place like thieves in the night the last time we left, taking only the clothes on our backs with us.
Michael had been incredibly generous since then, and I now had a closet in his Boston apartment filled to bursting with my fancy new wardrobe.
But I wanted my stuff. I wasn’t a city wolf.
Expensive fabrics and designer cuts were new to me, another reminder of the life I’d left behind.
I needed something familiar. The new clothes were beautiful, and I was grateful for them, but I wanted my favorite ratty sweatshirt.
I wanted the sweater Mom bought me last Christmas.
Deep down, my exhaustion was even greater than Michael’s, and I just wanted to tug on my comfiest clothes and sleep for a week straight.
While I finished shoving my textbooks into a backpack, Michael removed the ward from the apartment.
This time he warned me first, but for some reason, I got it into my head that removing a ward would be less jarring than snapping it into place, so I wasn’t ready when the floor felt like it dropped out from beneath me again.
I ended up on my knees in my bedroom. Good thing the carpet was so soft.
Michael appeared in the doorway as I got to my feet. He paused there, brows drawing down as he watched me.
“I’m all right,” I answered his unasked question.
He gave me a crisp nod and then broke my gaze, looking down to adjust his cuffs.
He was back in a three-piece suit, as requested.
He’d combed his hair away from his face in its usual flawless style.
The leather of his Italian loafers gleamed in the sunlight streaming through my windows.
Very little came across the bond. He was fully in control of himself again, and it made it easier for me to wrangle my own emotions.
Sure, a large part of me saw him in his suit and wanted nothing more than to mess up his hair, or flash a bit of side boob, or, better yet, drop to my knees in front of him and take that thick cock into my mouth—anything to bring his wolfish nature back to the forefront.
But that was the primitive part of me, and I’d gained enough control over my bonding instincts by now that I recognized how much better it would be to wait.
I even managed to temper my less-evolved responses by focusing on how advantageous it was to have a mate who was not only incredibly powerful but strong enough, mentally, to control that power, to hide it.
Anyone could bludgeon someone with pure brute force, but in order to survive, you needed to be smart, too, and Michael was nothing if not that.
His phone chimed from his suit pocket. I looked away and finished packing while he fished it out. It pinged several more times in quick succession, and then I remembered that we hadn’t had cell service inside of the ward.
The barest hint of his annoyance floated over the air-conditioned breeze, but I could sense his mounting anger like a rising tide.
“Your mother?” I guessed.
He nodded. “She left several messages.”
A soft tone echoed through the room before Mary’s voice filled my ears. “You’re in my house, and I have to find out from a footman?” Then she hung up.
I shoved the last textbook into my overstuffed backpack, face heating as I fought back my own wave of anger. “Your daughter was attacked, and you couldn’t take a five-minute break from your meeting to check on her?” I muttered.
Michael’s annoyance was replaced by amusement. I glanced up to see him watching me, the phone forgotten in his hand. A small smile tugged at his full lips.
“What?”
His dark eyes were steady on mine. “I adore your ferocity.” The words came out clipped, his teeth flashing like he was ready to snap at the air. It was a reminder of how feral he was at his core, and while he might love the finer things in life, he wasn’t above glorying in bloodshed.
My face grew warmer, spurred on by the savage adoration flowing over the bond. He’d fully laid claim to me today, but not before declaring that he was mine. Goddess, what a gift.
Mine, I thought as I stared at him.
Yours, he mouthed at me. I must have been projecting the word so loud that he caught it.
His phone let out another ping, but he held my eyes for a long moment, his expression filled with dark promise.
Just as my control started to crumble, he turned on his heel and strode out of the room.
I couldn’t help it—my gaze dropped straight to that bubble butt.
Even his suit couldn’t hide the fact that the man was built.