Living Extinct (16 page)

What she wouldn’t do to learn the extent of Dante’s abilities. He knew how to read her thoughts, knew when she left her body—what else could he do? Besides turn her into a puddle of boiling hot need and lust.

She looked past him toward the house. They were probably out of earshot from any werewolves who might be outside, and she didn’t smell any. She chewed her lip. Trust wasn’t something she knew how to give.

“I don’t know anything, really,” she said quietly without looking at either one of them. “It bothers me that you’re known as a pack destroyer whose claim to fame is destroying my pack.”

“I didn’t destroy your pack,” he answered without hesitation.

Silence grew between the three of them. Long, dark shadows stretched beyond the surrounding cliffs. A breeze picked up, too warm to cool her face. The shrubbery and flowers planted around the large house had strong scents, which would easily distract anyone from a werewolf’s scent unless that person paid close attention.

“He didn’t destroy the Malta werewolves,” Juan added with emphasis. “They aren’t destroyed.”

She looked up at Juan quickly.

“What he means is that there are still members alive. I’ve been searching, working to reunite us.” The way he said
us
broke some barrier inside Moira.

“How many are alive?” She relaxed against his steely body, looking into those intense pale blue eyes that seemed able to drag her mind into his.

He shook his head slowly. “I honestly don’t know.”

“Well, I know that Darrell Martinez contacted WA. A couple of their agents are headed this way.” Juan turned his attention to Dante.

“Moira and I will head out from here in our fur,” Dante decided. “I want you to take off in the RV. No one will question you driving away right now alone. Tell them you’re heading to the bar or something. We’ll meet up at the Colorado line.”

“So we’re going to run.” Juan wasn’t pleased with the idea. His dark eyes pierced her, his disapproval smelling sour. “You’ve never run from anyone, brother. I hope she’s worth it.”

“And you’ve never doubted me.” Dante’s tone turned harder than stone.

Moira stared from one werewolf to the other. So much alike, yet so different. Juan met Dante’s gaze, not backing down although he didn’t have half the strength or 83

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confidence. He trusted Dante though. Juan was confused. The questions he wanted to ask were so easy to read it was as if he’d spoken them out loud. She bit her lip so that she wouldn’t remind him that she hadn’t asked to be part of this little trio.

“That’s because you’ve been a levelheaded bastard. Now I wonder if you’re thinking with the right head.”

Dante growled, stepping into Juan’s personal space. Moira took a step backward without thinking, smelling the animosity that somehow she knew wasn’t a common scent for these two to display toward each other.

“Go get the fucking RV,” Dante growled, growing before her eyes. Anger seeped from him, making the air so spicy she fought the urge to sneeze. “And if you walk into that den down there with the smell of doubt on you, they will be on to us in a heartbeat.

Do you feel me on this?”

“Whatever.” Juan backed down, turning without looking at her and stomping back toward the mansion.

Moira let out a slow sigh and then shook her head. An electrical charge attacked the air around her. Something raw, untamed and bordering on violent crackled around her.

It raised the hairs on her arms, made the back of her neck tingle.

She stared after Juan until he bounded up onto the brick terrace and then disappeared through the sliding glass doors into the mansion. The animosity that had clogged the air moments ago was drowned out by the electricity that almost raised the hair off her shoulders. She rubbed her arms, glancing sideways at Dante.

“The last time we were here, there was a different pack leader. He had my back.” It was the only explanation Dante offered before placing his hand on her lower back and guiding her away from the house.

“Do you really believe we can outrun WA?” She reached out, but the charged air made it hard to search his mind for the answer before he offered it to her.

And he didn’t answer right away. They walked in silence until she knew without looking that no one from the mansion could see them.

“I know with some effort I can convince them to leave you with me,” he said finally. “That is, if they find us.”

The meadow they’d walked through had turned rocky. Almost on hands and knees, they climbed a rugged hill until white rock surrounded them. He stopped, long shadows ready to fade into nightfall making his brooding expression border on dangerous. His eyes glowed almost silver while a slight breeze lifted his black hair from his neck. He stared down at her, not speaking but searching her face.

His touch forced the electricity out of the air. Her skin still tingled but no longer from an unknown source. He brushed her flesh, his rough fingertips making her insides flip-flop as he stroked her cheek then ran a line along her jawbone. Heat scoured her in spite of the cooling temperature as nighttime took over.

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She didn’t want to lust after him, didn’t want to crave his touch elsewhere on her body. Her breasts swelled and her pussy throbbed. She fought for control, though, and wrinkled her brow as she concentrated on not letting him make her yearn for him to fuck her again.

“Why do you allow everyone to call you a pack destroyer?” she asked, nibbling her lower lip.

“Moira. Not once have I given any impression to any werewolf that I destroyed the Malta werewolves. The rumors grew from my ability to help packs in the States who were being pushed around, or who couldn’t get WA to help them when they were almost wiped out. More than anything, I’ve fought to make sure no other pack would lose everything the way your sire’s pack did.”

“Then why do werewolves think you destroyed my pack?”

Dante shrugged. “It came with the territory. I doubt you’ll hear any werewolf with any knowledge suggest it’s true. It took several packs united to bring your sire down.

No one werewolf could have ever taken him out.”

He grabbed her arm so that he pinned her in front of him. Pulling her closer, his mouth was just over hers and his gaze devoured her as he spoke.

“The wrong people had learned about the gift. Bruno made the werewolves of Malta strong. He accomplished his dream and offered it to everyone around him. Your sire was the greatest werewolf I’ve ever known, selfless and powerful. But he saw what would happen. I was there—with both of them. Your parents knew the gift would be abused and would destroy our kind—but once they realized this it was too late.

“Moira, if I could have saved your pack, believe me, I would have. We were simply outnumbered by too many packs—packs backed by the government to destroy something they couldn’t control.”

“So you’ve used this misguided reputation to help others when they’ve been bullied or attacked by surrounding packs?”

“That and the gift,” he told her, brushing his lips over hers.

His cock hardened between them, lengthening against her. It stole her breath, reminding her of how he’d made her feel. Not that she’d been able to forget the way he’d fucked her—and had pulled out—robbing her of complete satisfaction. It had also been a silent assurance that he wouldn’t bond them together until she agreed with what he claimed already to be the truth.

He let go of her hair, releasing his hold on her, but didn’t move away. Instead he stroked the sides of her head, petting her. He was too damned good at making her pant for him.

The desire to belly-up, to surrender to his will and beg him to soothe the fire he’d started inside her took over her ability to think straight. He no longer kept her pinned to him, yet she didn’t move. Their bodies touched, heat climbing between them as the night grew colder. She stared at the top of his T-shirt. His neck was thick and his skin creamy white. If she stared long enough she was sure she’d see his veins pulse with life 85

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under his skin. Dante was strong, powerful and confident in the knowledge he possessed. And he didn’t run without purpose, without direction. No one gave this werewolf orders. Dante did what he wanted.

How long had she craved a life like that?

Trust me, little bitch.
His words floated to her, inside her, consuming her.

“I want to,” she whispered, answering his thought out loud.

“Moira.” He said her name on a growl and goose bumps made the hair on her body stand on end. It wasn’t from some electrical charge in the air though, but rather how he said her name. He pushed his thumbs under her chin, tilting her head. “Look at me.”

She did. His eyes were like rare jewels in the darkness. Black eyebrows bordered their light color, making him look even more intense. Other than his physical appearance, the way he spoke and touched her filled her with hot sensations, had her teetering on the edge. Desire, anticipation and fear swam around inside her. She fought to clear her mind, to stare up at him and see inside and beyond the sexy package displayed for her.

“Imagine you and me working together to reunite the Malta werewolves, make them stronger and respected once again.”

“Is that why you want me as your mate?” she asked, her tummy suddenly twisting.

She sensed his answer before he slowly shook his head. Emotions strong enough to once again charge the air around them made her tingle from head to toe.

“No,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “At first I wanted you because I believed you more beautiful than any other bitch I’d ever seen. As the years dragged by and I watched you from a distance, that craving grew because I saw your strength, how damned good you were at everything you did. Now that you’re with me, I want you because you’re better than anything I’ve imagined. And honestly, Moira, I’m scared to death you’ll refuse me and leave me.”

Shit. If his emotions peaked any harder, the sparks in the air would ignite into flame. Her cheeks got hot and the flush spread over her neck then filled her body. No werewolf had ever spoken such words to her. Dante was an intense alpha, strong enough to guide packs instead of simply leading just one. And that he’d humbled himself, spoken out loud his feelings instead of relaxing his mind and letting her dig through his thoughts to find them, made him an even stronger werewolf.

She fought the urge to cry, to wrap her arms around his neck and let him know how good he’d just made her feel. She cleared her throat quickly. “Why didn’t either one of them tell me that they’d agreed to a mating?”

“Would you have accepted it if they had?”

She shook her head immediately. “I would have told them to go to hell,” she said sadly, her heart breaking that they weren’t with her now so she could yell at them and then privately confess they’d done a hell of a job in finding her one of the sexiest 86

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werewolves alive. Well…maybe she would have told her mother that. Definitely not her sire.

“I wanted to be the one to tell you.” He stepped back from her and removed his shirt.

Black, curly hair covered bulging muscle. Her mouth went dry as she stared at his naked torso. But Dante didn’t undress for sex. His movements were methodical, precise. He put his shirt right-side out after pulling it from his body. Then he folded it and rolled it tightly. Next, he reached for his belt.

He undressed in order to change and prepared his clothes to carry while he was in his fur. She watched him strip until he stood before her naked. She made no attempt to remove her own clothing.

“Undress,” he ordered, ignoring her as she stared at his rock-hard cock which thrust toward her.

Magnificent and terrifying, even naked as a human male, Dante moved with more confidence than some of the best-trained agents she’d worked with. His body was sculpted perfection. His arms and legs were thick with muscle and he was tall—so damned tall.

But his cock. The way it stood out, proud and strong. Dante didn’t hide how turned on he was. It didn’t bother him a bit that his raging hard-on distracted her to the point where she couldn’t move. He stood there, tying his clothes together until he’d created a collar out of them and then tied them around his neck.

“You’re going to have a hard time keeping up with me in your skin,” he said, not looking up.

“You’ll fuck me in my fur.” Animal instinct prevailed over human rationale.

“Probably.” His arm muscles bulged when he adjusted a knot behind his neck and secured his clothes to him.

She tried swallowing the knot in her throat. It struck her at that moment that they prepared to run for their safety—for her freedom. Yet until this moment, worrying about any of that had been the last thing on her mind. All of her attention focused on Dante. His past, what he’d done, what he would do—that’s what mattered. Fear for her life or what WA might do hadn’t crossed her mind.

And that’s because she was safe. Beyond a shadow of doubt she knew that while she was with Dante, there was nothing to worry about. Well—maybe what he might do to her. But even then, that didn’t make her nervous. It sent a chill of excited anticipation rushing from her head to toes.

She did trust him.

And she wanted more knowledge, wanted to know every little detail about him.

Not the rumors, but what was in his head. His thoughts, his plans, his intentions.

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Slowly she pulled her dress over her head, hoping her body would distract him as much as his nudity made her crazy. She stepped out of her shoes, standing still so the rocky ground wouldn’t puncture her human feet.

A cold breeze attacked her flesh, hardening her nipples while she shivered almost uncontrollably. She fought to focus on the breeze. In her mind, she visualized it carrying her thoughts so that they would blend with his.

“Let me help you with that.” Dante was closer than she realized and she jumped, shrinking back into her mind.

Dante took her dress from her and ran it through the straps of her shoes. Then twisting the material, he created a collar for her. His gaze locked on to hers as he wrapped it around her neck.