THE PRIMAL #2
“Fuck,” he swore, his grip loosening enough for me to break free. “That was unnecessary.”
I took off.
He caught my arm and spun me to the side. Lifting me, he held me close to him.
Gods, his strength was shocking.
I frantically searched for an escape route as he moved away from the door again.
Unfortunately, my efforts were futile as the distance between me and my freedom grew larger and larger.
Desperate to break free, I pulled my legs up and swung both our bodies backward.
He slammed into one of the wooden bedposts, causing it to creak loudly.
A grunt of pain escaped him as he staggered a foot to the side.
Pulling my knees up again, I threw my weight back.
He went down, this time landing on the bed instead of the floor with my back to his chest.
“Let me go!” I thrashed wildly, only managing to make him tighten his hold on me.
“I can’t do that, Poppy,” he said with a hint of regret.
I dug my nails into the arm around my waist and heard him hiss in pain. That gave me a little wiggle room—just enough to create enough space to draw my arm back. I shoved my elbow into his stomach. He cursed, his grip loosening. I twisted and faced him, lifting my arm.
He caught my wrist. “What poor manners you have,” he drawled with a bloody smirk. “Hitting isn’t nice.”
Clamping an arm around my waist, he yanked me down again. Somehow, I ended up straddling him, the softest part of me pressed to the hardest part of him.
My mind went blank for a moment as I thought I picked up the sound of approaching footsteps. I wasn’t sure because I was stunned by the feel of him beneath me.
I liked it.
A lot.
A riot of sensations erupted in me—a confusing mix of desire and fear.
Both were unacceptable. I needed to move, but I could feel his heartbeat thudding against my chest in sync with mine.
I breathed him in, the intoxicating mix of his scent and blood sending a pleasant warmth coursing through my veins.
I wanted it. I wanted him . A shudder swept through me.
It was overwhelming, and for a second, I couldn’t remember why I had been fighting him.
Not safe here.
Instinct kicked in, reminding me of who he was—a liar , a thief , a manipulator …a murderer , and a monster . The rush of lust and desire didn’t fade, though.
Gods, there was something very wrong with me.
His chest rose beneath mine as his nostrils flared, his eyes darkening into pools of heated honey. A sharp pulse of desire coiled low in my stomach.
“Princess?” He lifted his head. “I can smell your desire.”
My entire body flushed hot, and my ears burned as the footsteps drew nearer.
Our mouths were so close that his lips brushed mine when he spoke. “I can practically taste your lust. Honeydew,” he murmured. I turned my head slightly, letting my eyes close.
My breath snagged in my chest as a sudden memory rose: a cold night under crimson leaves, his body hot and hard behind mine, his hand between my thighs.
A warm, shivery sensation radiated from my core, so intense that it silenced everything, even the throbbing pain in my head.
Even the hunger. I remembered . We’d been in the Blood Forest with others, though I’d known him by a different name then.
There were guards. But that hadn’t mattered. Another shudder raced through me.
He had been the first to give me pleasure with his touch.
He’d been my first for everything .
No .
The whispered word didn’t feel like my instincts. It sounded like…
His breath coasted over my cheek, nearing my mouth. I knew I should be fighting; we were too close. This was dangerous—
He nipped my lower lip, dragging a gasp from me as a flash of heat answered his quick bite. My eyes flew open.
The faint silver aura behind his pupils brightened, and he winked.
Then, he moved.
In the blink of an eye, he’d rolled me under him.
His sudden weight and the feel of him above me fried my senses.
I didn’t move an inch. I didn’t protest as he gained the upper hand, catching my wrists and pressing them above my head.
I didn’t even attempt to break his hold when he transferred both wrists to one hand.
All I could feel was him. His body. His warmth.
The wicked dart of desire coursing through me in response to being under him. How he—
“Whatever you do,” he said, raising his voice. “Do not open that door, Kieran.”
I jolted. The image of a large, fawn-colored wolf came to mind. He was…a wolven. I silently mouthed the name, feeling that it meant something, too. It was as if he was important to me. To us—
Sharp pain stabbed my head, forcing a harsh breath from my lungs. I shrank back—or rather tried and failed since there was nowhere to go.
“What’s going on, Cas?” came the muffled voice.
My heart pounded unsteadily as the pain returned with a vengeance.
His gaze held mine. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit,” the other voice said. I suddenly realized that something wouldn’t allow me to think his name past the initial acknowledgment—like the one currently on top of me. “She’s awake. I can feel her.”
That drew my brows together. He could feel me?
I heard the door handle rattle.
“Don’t!” the one above me ordered as a wave of power flooded the chamber, raising the hairs on my arms.
The handle stopped moving. A moment passed, and then, “Did you seriously just try to use compulsion on me?” the wolven demanded. “You can’t even see me, you fucker.”
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” he replied, not even sounding a little bit sorry.
With sheer effort, I pulled my gaze from his and turned my head toward the door. An idea took shape.
“Poppy.” His voice had lowered, and there was almost a hint of amusement in his tone. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”
I wet my dry lips.
He sighed. “You’re going to ignore me.”
He was right again.
“He won’t let me out,” I yelled, wincing as a fiery sting of disuse swept down my throat. “Please—”
His hand folded over my mouth, silencing me. Disbelief flooded me as I felt the rough calluses of his palm against my lips.
“What in the actual fuck?” the wolven said from the hall.
I screamed a stream of curses that only came out as a string of incoherent nonsense.
He raised a brow, his thumb moving back and forth across my chin. “I have a feeling it’s probably a good thing I couldn’t understand any of that.”
“Fuck this,” came a muffled curse. “I’m com—”
“You open that door, she’s going to make a run for it,” he warned, all amusement gone from his tone and expression, though his thumb continued its slow, oddly comforting swipes across my chin. “Or she’ll attack you.”
“She wouldn’t…” The wolven trailed off. “ Fuck .”
“Yeah,” the one above me said, and the gruff way he spoke caused me to still beneath him. “Let me handle this.” His eyes closed, and his features tensed. “Please.”
My heart twisted sharply as a gap of silence fell. Eventually, one word came. “Okay.” I had a feeling it had taken nearly everything he had to say that.
A shudder of relief coursed through him.
No other sound came from the wolven until I heard his retreat.
I got the strange impression that he had not only left the hall but was putting more distance between himself and this chamber.
That he had to. I wasn’t sure how I knew that, but more than just my heightened senses told me as much.
Several moments passed, and I kept my gaze fixed on him. The only thing that moved on him was his chest and his thumb. He appeared lost in thought, and I knew if I acted now, I could possibly overpower him. But I couldn’t look away. I had no excuse other than that.
Thick lashes fanned the slightly shadowed flesh beneath his eyes. My gaze tracked over the stubble on his tense jaw. The bruises I had given him minutes ago had begun to fade, and the skin of his lip had already healed. Gods, he was beautiful.
“Why aren’t you fighting me right now?” he asked, his voice strained, each word seeming to get caught in his throat. His thumb slipped away from my mouth. “Have you asked yourself that? I’m sure you have.” His fingers splayed on my cheek. “And I’m sure you know why.”
I did—
Searing, relentless pressure exploded in my head, making it feel like it might cave in. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on breathing.
“Poppy,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I don’t want to fight you.”
Don’t trust him.
My eyes snapped open. His eyes glittered like polished citrine. “Let me take away your pain.”
I’d heard that before, and it had been a lie. But…
“I can help you,” he promised.
My heart urged me to trust him. Told me I could as I watched him smile just enough for the hint of a deep dimple to appear on one cheek.
“You’re in pain,” he said, his voice strained with anguish. “I can take it away. My blood is yours. My strength is yours.” He shuddered. “ I am yours.”
Do it.
Take him.
I closed my eyes. My jaw had started to ache from how tightly I was clenching my teeth. I couldn’t—
End him before he sees what you’ve become.
I needed to stop him.
Kill him before it’s too late. Because I knew how this would end.
Still, I didn’t struggle against his hold.
“Such a fool. So weak. You’ve always been a disappointment.” His laugh was like cracking ice, freezing my skin. “Please, let me help you.”
My eyes stung as a different kind of ache filled my chest. How was telling me that I was a weak and disappointing fool supposed to help?
“Godsdamn it, Poppy,” he growled. “Look at me!”
I obeyed out of surprise. It was the first time he’d raised his voice at me since I woke. I expected to see a smug grin on his face, but there was no trace of that taunting laugh. His eyes searched mine intently, clearly looking for something.
A ragged breath left him. “I love you, Poppy.”
And I lo—