Marked (2 page)

The man beat her to the punch, moving so fast she took an
alarmed step back. She lifted her eyes from the large hands holding her
belongings, his fingers thick and long, his nails neatly trimmed. His cologne
drifted to her nose and her knees almost caved. A balmy cloud covered her,
making the room spin. He smelled as good as he looked—a mixture of fresh spring
rain along with a woodsy scent that sent an electric jolt from her stomach to
her sex.

“Chloe Bryant?” he asked, the words a throaty timbre of
sexual promise.

She closed her eyes. He sounded so familiar, as though
they’d met somewhere before. “Yes,” she whispered, reminding herself to
breathe.

What’s wrong with me?

“Son of a bitch.” He sounded like he was coming closer,
walking around the counter. “Let’s get you in the back before someone sees
you.”

Sounded like a plan. Right now she couldn’t move. It felt
like her feet were rooted to the floor by invisible weights. Her heart was
racing, her birthmark pulsing. She opened her eyes when his hand wrapped around
her forearm. The spell wasn’t broken but her body did obey her commands. She
followed as he guided her to a room on the left of the hallway. She wondered
why it didn’t frighten her when he closed the door behind them.

He was a stranger, after all.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said softly and spun her around.

Their hands brushed in a whisper of skin against skin. In an
instant, a connection was made. Something inside her reached out to him,
desperate for a deeper link. The fuzzy sensation in her stomach exploded, a
tidal wave of heat erupting from her pussy. Time seemed to stand still, the
walls of the midsized room closing in. She swayed, afraid she might fall
flat-faced on the floor. Her breasts felt oddly heavy and swollen, her soft
cotton panties suddenly uncomfortable against her clit.

She peered up, meeting the gaze of the ginormous man in
front of her.

Oh no.

She knew who he was. She’d done things to him in her dreams
that had caused her to wake up on the brink of orgasm—sweaty, panting and
shaken by the experience. She didn’t know his name but she’d be willing to bet
she could identify every inch of his body without the clothes. He’d have a
tribal tattoo on his biceps that extended to his shoulder, the design intricate
and mesmerizing.

It wasn’t possible. It
couldn’t
be possible.

Her fantasy lover was here, standing right in front of her.

And she wasn’t asleep.

“It’s you,” she rasped, her throat suddenly tight, staring
into the man’s golden eyes.

It’s her.

Jackson Donovan attempted to shake off his shock. He’d known
his mate would find him. Dreamsharing only occurred when a female was ready to
mate, and his had come at him like a freight train. She’d been nervous but
eager in their encounters, shaking off her inhibitions as though she wasn’t
aware the dreams were real. He’d known it was in a female wolf’s nature to play
hard to get, so he’d bided his time.

Once a woman got a taste of her male, she’d instinctually
track him down. Distance wasn’t a factor. Instinct paved the way. What he
hadn’t known was the woman who haunted his nights would show up at his shop for
a tattoo, or that she’d be human.

Correction. Half-human.

She was a combination of both—wolf and woman—each scent
unique and undeniable. Judging by her response to him, she’d never even seen a
werewolf before. That being said, he was certain she didn’t know what
she
was.

Everything slowly came together, providing him with a
clearer understanding of his mate. She
hadn’t
known the dreams were
being shared. She hadn’t had a clue what was taking place between them. If that
was the case, what in the hell was she doing here? Where had she come from?

He drew a breath, taking in her scent. Pure feminine heat
assailed him, clean and rich, the hot fragrance of her cunt slamming into his
lungs. She smelled good enough to eat, as sweet and warm as honey. He’d drown
in her, lapping at her slit until she came long and hard. Afterward he’d bury
himself inside her, fucking them both to oblivion, claiming her in every way imaginable.

What the fuck?

His muscles tensed, his wolf growling in his head. He fought
for control, trying to ice his desire. She was human, not wolf. He could scare
her if he didn’t watch himself. If he wasn’t careful he could also hurt her,
and a werewolf never harmed his mate. He was shaken by his lack of control,
caught off guard by how she affected him. His primal urges rushed to the
forefront, his wolf ready to take over.

Realization hit, hard and fast.

Damn.
She’s on the brink of her season.

A part of him wanted to rage at the injustice of her
predicament. Due to her genetics, she might not able to shift. Most wolves
considered the inability to change a weakness. Hell, it was one of the reasons
humans weren’t mated with unless the man couldn’t resist the nature of his
beast. Being half-and-half wasn’t easy, not if you lived a life among a pack.

Fuck. The pack.

It was very possible they’d shit a brick when he introduced
her to them, especially if she wasn’t able to shift. Stability was always an
issue when it came to wolves but with the tension between the packs in the area
things had become worse. The men and women who looked to him for balance would
expect their Alpha to do the right thing—to put their well-being over his—even
if it meant turning his back on the one woman meant for him.

He suppressed a snarl, fighting for control.He
wasn’t letting his mate walk out of his life. Not after he’d waited so long for
her. Somehow he’d make things work. It was his responsibility to protect his
female and his people. At his age, he’d seen and survived a lot of shit. He’d
be damned if he let his mating come in the way of what he’d worked so hard to
accomplish.

“My name’s Jackson.” He studied her closely, resisting the
urge to reach out and see if her skin was as soft as it appeared. He didn’t
want to frighten her more than she already was. “Do you know why you’re here?
Do you understand what’s happening to you?”

“What kind of question is that?” She frowned, her arched
brows furrowing. “I’m here to get a tattoo.”

Shit.
She had
no
idea what was going on.

“I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.”

“Why not?” Frown lines deepened, tugging at the corners of
her mouth. “This is so weird. I know you but I don’t. And I feel so strange.
It’s like I took a trip down the rabbit hole.”

He forced his hands into fists, trembling with the effort
not to pull her into his arms. His fingers itched with the need to touch her,
his cock straining against the sharp bite of his zipper. The metal teeth
subdued his wolf, the sharp lance of pain into his engorged flesh more than
welcome. She needed patient and gentle—two traits he seriously lacked.

“Do you know what’s happening to you?” he repeated.
Obviously she didn’t, but he had to know. He had to be certain.

She cocked her head to the side, a puzzled expression on her
face. “I don’t think so.” Something seemed to dawn on her. Her brows lifted,
her plush lips parting. “Wait. Am I dreaming? Is that why you’re here?”

“No, you’re not dreaming,” he replied, trying not to growl
in pleasure as she turned to him for answers. Her insecurity made him want to
shroud her in his strength, ensuring she would always be safe from harm. It was
his responsibility and privilege to see to her needs, something he responded to
on a primal level.

“Are you sure?” She looked around the room and then peered
up at him, her grass-green eyes wide, pupils dilated. Her legs shifted as
though she was trying to stem her sexual excitement. “Because this doesn’t feel
normal.”

Talk about an understatement.

Those green peepers of hers indicated she was from one of
the most respected packs in his area—the Worthington pack, to be precise. Only
Worthington wolves had eyes the color of sunlit peridot, the shade easy to
identify. Unfortunately he was at odds with their Alpha and any inquiries about
his mate wouldn’t be welcomed. Territory wasn’t always easily established,
especially when wolves started crowding each other. Whoever had impregnated
Chloe’s mother would be in deep shit. Leaving behind a half-were infant was
just asking for trouble.

Who the fuck would do something so stupid?

His rock-hard dick jerked inside his pants, fueled by his
female’s scent. He hadn’t been able to see her face until now. That was the way
it worked with dreamsharing. The big reveal didn’t happen until a couple came
face-to-face. It was nature’s way of promoting a bond that defied all things
superficial, bonding a couple together on a deeper mental level. She was more
beautiful than he’d pictured. Even if she was slightly younger than he
imagined—in her early twenties—she was more than he’d ever hoped for. Her hair
was thick, curly and strawberry blonde, the color striking against her shiny
green irises.

He pictured her on his bed, those curls spread out on his
pillows, her beautiful eyes glazed over as she watched him go down on her.
She’d moan as he feasted on her, taking his time, licking her up like candy. He
wanted to feel the sting of her nails in his scalp, hear her pleasure as she
came against his tongue, the delectable taste of her cream flooding his senses.
Even if she begged, he wouldn’t rush, keeping her right where he wanted her.
He’d stay between her legs for hours, lapping at her cunt, taking what was his.

A thought struck him, one he didn’t like, yanking him from
his erotic musings. He studied his mate—really
looked
at her—starting at
her head and working his way to her toes.

Gavin Worthington—the Alpha of the Worthington pack—had
similar coloring and features. Everyone knew he didn’t have children since
Gavin and his mate despised each other. It was running joke in the area and a
reminder why wolves didn’t usually mate unless they found the person intended
for them.

Jackson growled as instinct told him his intuition was
spot-on.

Gavin had mated Desiree Benson decades ago despite the lack
of a mating bond, bringing two of the most prominent packs in the bordering
states together. If Gavin had sex with a human and had left her pregnant, he
wouldn’t have been able to say a word to his pack. He might even have left the
female and his child to fend for themselves. Desiree would have challenged and
killed a human female if her position as Lupa was threatened.

A knock at the door had Jackson spinning around, his lips
pulling back as his canines lengthened. He put himself between the door and his
mate, the hair on his nape rising, the wolf within snarling to protect what was
his. If Chloe was Gavin’s offspring, she had a claim to the bastard Alpha’s
pack. Even if she couldn’t shift, she had a God-given birthright.

That put her in danger.

The door opened, revealing the identity of their guest.
Jackson’s business partner and pack Beta didn’t move, standing in the open
doorway. It didn’t take long for Declan to put two and two together. Jackson’s
rage was easy to scent, and the fragrance of Chloe’s desire hung heavy in the
room.

“Oh shit.” Declan glanced at Chloe, his nostrils expanding
as he took a deep breath and growled, “
Oh fuck
.”

Jackson relaxed but remained where he was, partially
shielding his female from view. He’d told the Beta about the female in his
dreams, warning Declan life in the pack was about to change. Since he’d never
gotten violent over a woman before, he was certain Declan knew the score.

“Oh fuck is right.”

“You’ve got to get her out of here. She’s almost in season.”
Declan’s eyes shifted from brown to amber. “Her mating scent is all over the
place.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” he muttered and shook his
head.

It was hard enough keeping his hands to himself. Until he
mated Chloe and marked her with his own scent she’d be like a drug to other
males. Even if he stated she was his he’d have to fight any would-be suitor who
wanted to take his place.

“Actually, I think I’m going to go,” Chloe said and started
to inch around him, the sharp smell of her fear spreading through the room.
“Coming here was a bad idea.”

I don’t think so.

Jackson reached out, snagging her by the wrist.

The contact did exactly what he knew it would.

She whimpered and cried out, sagging as he tugged her toward
him. The days preceding the full moon were difficult on a female in season. She
had to be feeling the changes, drawn by the desire to mate, beginning the
transformation to her other form if she was able to change. Until a
male—preferably the female’s mate—spent his seed inside of her, the ache would
only worsen.

That’s why he’d held himself back, trying to give her space.
The first touch had muddled her thoughts. A second would throw her completely
off balance, until all she could think about was the sexual frustration she was
sure to be experiencing.

And the poor thing didn’t have a clue what she was dealing
with.

She didn’t fight or struggle, resting against his chest as
he urged her closer. She felt perfect against him—exactly right. A growl of
contentment carried up his throat, his wolf eager for her touch.

“What’s the matter with me? This has to be a dream. I just
have to wake up.”

She sounded confused but aroused. He knew how she felt. At
the moment—despite the uncertainty of their future together—he could have
pounded nails with his dick.

He brought her close, snaking his free arm around her waist
and meeting Declan’s gaze. “She has no idea what’s going on.”

“I kinda figured that,” Declan retorted, a smile on his
face. “You didn’t tell me she’s human.”