Authors: Larissa Ione
He should never have brought her into the shower, should have cleaned himself up after
the sex and left her to fend for herself. And she could. Of that he had no doubt.
Appreciation for her strength swelled in him, made him smile as he combed his hand
through her hair. This new Runa threatened his world as no female ever had. Even if he couldn’t
sense her physical and emotional needs and moods, he’d find himself attracted to her. Sure, she
was gorgeous, more so now that she had an edge about her, but it was more than that. Beneath
the stronger, more aggressive personality she’d developed over the last year was the soft
femininity and nurturing disposition he’d been raised to appreciate. He’d always told himself that
he’d taken care of his sisters and mother, but truly, it had been the other way around.
Gods, why couldn’t Roag have bonded him to anyone else? No other female tugged at his
heart like Runa. No other female drew out his protective instincts the way she did.
No other female stood a chance of making him fall in love.
She was still only half-responsive as he rinsed and dried her, but as he tucked her into
bed, she managed a yawn and a mumbled, “Food?”
“Yeah, I brought food. It’s cold now, but I’ve never met a cold burger I didn’t like.” He
fetched the bag he’d tossed to the floor earlier. She sat up, her gaze both groggy and dreamy as
she dug into the fries and quarter-pounders.
“Thank you,” she said between bites. “I’m starving.”
“I can see that.” He smiled when she stopped shoveling food into her mouth to glare at
him, but it was a mock glare, because she chomped down on a fry and gave him a playful grin.
Overtaken by a sudden urge to caress her pouty bottom lip with his thumb, he reached for her.
With a curse, he checked himself at the last second and thrust a napkin at her to cover his
actions. “You have ketchup on your mouth,” he lied. “And ah, sorry about last night. I kinda got
tied up at the hospital.” He stretched out on top of the covers next to her. “That was a pun.”
She froze midchew. Swallowed. “Tied up? Seriously?”
She looked so cute that this time when the urge to touch her made him itch, he gave in to
it, trailing a finger along her exposed hip. “Funny thing. Seems that when you bit me in Roag’s
dungeon, you transmitted your lycanthropy to me. So last night when I stepped out of the Harrowgate into the hospital, I grew fur and fangs, and then tried to eat half the staff.”
“But …” The color drained from Runa’s face. “You said you’re immune to it.”
“Under normal circumstances, yeah. Eidolon thinks whatever allows you to shift at will
affected your disease, and therefore—”
“Your resistance to it.” She closed her eyes and fell back against the studded-leather
headboard. “I’m sorry, Shade. I’m so sorry.”
Emotion clogged his throat, a knotted mix of pleasure that she cared enough to be sorry,
guilt that he’d gotten her turned into a werewolf, and anger that he’d let himself feel anything for
her at all.
“Don’t be,” he said roughly. “If you hadn’t bitten me, I could have died from the pain I
was in.”
“Still—”
“Don’t,” he barked. “Eat your food and get some rest. We’re heading to the hospital in a
couple of hours.”
“Okay, Mr. Grumpy. Will we be coming back here?”
“We’ll have to.” He measured her response as he leaned in, some sick perversion wanting
to get a rise out of her as he said, “We need to chain ourselves up.”
And wouldn’t
that
be interesting. They’d either tear each other apart or screw each other
to death.
“Together?” The French fry in her hand began to tremble. “So we can touch?”
Touch, taste … Shade’s body hardened as his mind filled with images of what it would
be like to spend a night with both of them in beast form and nothing but pure animal instinct to
guide them. Even now, his instinct was to put her flat on her back and drill her into the mattress.
“I felt your desire from New York,” he gritted out. “I promise we won’t spend another
night apart as long as we both live. Last night I was heavily sedated, but tonight I won’t be, and
nothing will keep me from you.” He rolled over so he wouldn’t have to look at her and be
tempted to take her again. “Finish eating and get some sleep. You’ll need your strength.”
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Gem had just showered, stepped into a fresh pair of scrub pants, and fastened her bra
when the unisex locker room door opened.
“Ah, sorry …”
“Kynan.” She’d been trying to get him alone all day, but the man was a master of
evasion, so she wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. “Hey. Look, we need to talk about the
other day …”
He held up his hands and made a point of not looking at her boobs. He looked
everywhere
but
there. “It’s fine. We’re cool.”
He turned away, but she grabbed his wrist. “No. Wait. Please.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.” His already low voice dropped even lower, scraping
gravel. “Let go. I don’t like to be touched.”
“I don’t believe you,” she said softly. “Tay told me how you and Lori couldn’t keep your
hands off each other.”
Kynan went taut, but the pulse in his wrist bounded against her fingers. “Don’t go there.”
“I can see your scars, Ky. It’s what I am. I can exploit them, reopen them, make them
worse.” She bit her lip, wondering if she’d just done more damage. “Or I can help you heal
them.”
“There’s nothing here to heal, doctor.”
“What happened to the Kynan I used to know? The one who laughed, the one who was
gentle and caring and laid-back?”
He laughed then, but it was a bitter, cold sound. “He’s dead, Gem. He died right
alongside Lori.”
His wife, whom he’d discovered in the arms of two different males in one night—one a
trusted Guardian, and the other a demon with no moral compass.
Wraith. Who denied sleeping with Lori, but who had fed from her right in front of Kynan
and who might have done far more had Eidolon not interrupted.
“He’s not dead. He’s just hiding—”
Suddenly, she found herself pinned against the lockers, one of the handles biting into her
spine and Kynan’s big hands on her shoulders. “He’s gone,” he growled. “Does this feel like
someone who is gentle and caring?” He shoved a little harder for emphasis and then released her.
“You’re wasting your time with me, Gem. Find someone else to nurse back to health.”
He stalked away, leaving her, heart pounding and chest heaving, in the middle of the
locker room.
Nine
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The bed was comfortable, more so than Runa would have expected in a cave full of
BDSM equipment. But Shade surprised her at every turn, and she wondered if she would ever
truly know him. Then again, it appeared that they had a lifetime to get to know each other—not
only as lovers, but as werewolves.
God, she hadn’t seen that coming.
She remembered how pissed she’d been when she learned about her own infection, how
she’d been terrified, lost, and alone, even though Arik had been there to help her through it. She
hadn’t understood the physical and behavioral changes that had taken place almost immediately.
She’d been afraid for her future, for the innocent people she might hurt, and she’d been angry at
how her life had been yanked out from under her so she no longer had any control over anything.
Shade had an advantage over her in that he’d been born in this strange world, was already
familiar with werewolves. But, she thought, as she absently trailed a finger around a leather cuff
dangling from the bedpost, this was a male used to being in control, both in and out of the
bedroom. Having to give that up three nights a month couldn’t be sitting well with him.
Yawning, she glanced at the bedside clock. She and Shade and had been sleeping for six
hours. Careful to not wake him, she rolled over. He was facing her, his expression one of peace.
The strange ring around his neck flexed as he breathed, the design’s dark color the same as that
of the
dermoire
running the length of his right arm.
She brushed his glossy hair away from his neck, where his personal symbol, the unseeing
eye, seemed to, well, see her. With each breath, each swallow, it undulated, followed her no
matter which way she moved.
Unsettled, she trailed her finger down his arm, followed the hills and valleys of his ropey
muscles until she reached his hand. The
dermoire
went all the way to his long fingers, the ones that had stroked her, penetrated her, brought her to decadent orgasms more times than she could
count.
Heat began to simmer in her veins at the thought. Geez, she was a hormonal mess. The
werewolf thing had ramped up her libido, and the full moon made it worse … but being near
Shade was like throwing gas on a fire.
A few minutes under cool water sounded good right about now.
She rolled to the side of the bed, kicked her feet over the edge—and in an instant found
herself tugged back onto the mattress and tucked beneath Shade.
“Not so fast.” His voice was sleepy and wonderfully rough, and his half-opened,
slumberous eyes burned gold. His erection lay heavily in the juncture of her sex.
“I was just going to take a shower. Would you like to join me?”
“After.” He nuzzled her throat, nipped the sensitive skin there. “After I’m finished with
you.”
“Did you feel my, ah, arousal?”
His fingers delved between her legs to test her slick need. “Yep, I can feel it.”
“You know what I mean.”
He laved the area he’d bitten with his tongue. “It woke me up. Why?”
“Because,” she moaned, tilting her head to the side to give him better access, “earlier you
said you felt my desire from New York. I was just wondering if you will always feel it.”
He lifted his head to look at her. No longer sleepy, his eyes burned with intensity. “We’re
bonded. I’m aware of everything you feel.” He arched and slid inside her. “When you want sex,
I’m compelled to give it to you.”
“Even if we’re in different states? Different countries?”
“Yes, but that won’t happen again.” He pinned her wrists above her head and began a
slow, steady rhythm. “No mate of mine—” He broke off with a curse.
“You don’t like that word, do you?” Just once, she wanted to be able to run her hands
over his shoulders as they bunched with each of his powerful strokes, to dig her fingers into his
back as she came, but his grip on her wrists tightened.
“What word?”
“Mate.”
He shook his head, his thick hair falling around his face. “I don’t like any of this.”
She arched her back to take him deeper. “Not even
this
?”
An emotion she couldn’t name darkened his expression. “You’re aroused. The bond
compels me to service you.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” He thrust faster, his movements almost mechanical. “Let’s get it over
with.”
“If you think you’re doing me a favor by screwing me,” she snapped, “you can stop right
now and go screw yourself.”
He stopped, but he didn’t withdraw from her body. “You would never have said that to
me a year ago.” His voice was a low, rough rumble. “No female I’ve
ever
brought to my bed
would dare speak like that to me.”
Glaring at him, she struggled to free her hands. “Probably because they’re hanging in
chains from your ceiling.”
“Good point.” He glanced at the implements of torture and pleasure hanging from his
walls as though selecting one for her. The thought made her shiver, but whether with fear or
excitement, she wasn’t sure.
“I suppose you want to do that to me?”
He laughed, as if what she’d said was completely out of the realm of possibility. Which
offended the hell out of her, because why would he enjoy other females like that but not her?
And why in the world would she be upset about that?
“I like your spirit, little wolf. But it could use … discipline.”
“My dad said the same thing.” She winced, regretting both the words and the memories
that rushed in through the opening she’d made for them.
The little brat needs discipline
. Her father’d say it right before he came at her with a belt or a wooden spoon or whatever he had handy. She’d been so spirited as a child, defying her
parents at every opportunity, enraging her alcoholic father to the point of violence.
So how could she possibly view Shade’s assortment of whips and other, unidentifiable
objects as anything other than instruments intended to cause pain? What kind of messed-up sicko
was she?
Shade stroked a thumb over her cheek. “Runa? Hey, you okay?” He finally released her
wrists and shifted his weight as he prepared to climb off her. “We’ll do this later.”
“No.” She tightened her legs around his waist. “I think … I think you
would
be doing me
a favor if you just keep … you know.” Now that her anger had faded, she couldn’t be as crude as
she wanted to be.
“Fucking you?”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks, and desire bloomed in her core. “Yes.”
“You sure?” When she nodded, he sank against her once more, his hips rolling into her
even as a sigh of relief escaped his lips. “Good, because stopping would put me in a world of
pain.”
“Like in the dungeon?” Lightly, so he wouldn’t realize that he’d forgotten to restrain her,