by Liz Paffel
Her hand pressed against his chest. His heart swelled at her words. He fought to steady his reaction as her breath washed over his lips. Silk ran over his hand. When had he put his hand in her hair? Truth time—he’d never felt like this.
This woman called to him, compelled him. Why would fate send him a woman he couldn’t keep?
Her soft hand fumbling with his shirt, her fingers seeking the flesh beneath was exhilarating. It was a tease, a flash of a life he couldn’t have.
“What are you doing, Isla?”
His hand clenched in her hair, wanting to push her away but making it impossible to do so. Shifting and pushing up slightly, she sought his lips, kissing him softly. Her taste flooded him, the slide of her tongue along his marking her intention and drawing up the need he’d held down for so long.
They moved together, closer, until his left leg rested between her thighs, his arm draped tightly over her body to hold her to him. He explored her warm mouth, leading her into soft and hard kisses, while trying to keep a rein on the pressure brewing inside him. There was a possessiveness squeezing him that he never experienced with causal intimate encounters. Beyond the thrill and anticipation of sex, this feeling was all-consuming and deafening in its power. Claim her. It was the need to have, possess, dominate.
Her fingers worked the buttons of his shirt, spread the sides wide. Her hips tilted, pressing her pelvis against his thigh. Gavin swallowed back a groan as the light rake of her short nails over his pecs made his eyes clench tight, her hand smoothing along his abdomen jacking the need to dominate her. A cold chill went down his forearms when he suddenly realized what this urge inside him was.
It was the call of mates.
Gavin brushed his lips across Isla’s and pulled away. She couldn’t be his. She was frail and though she might tolerate the intensity of the mating bond, she’d never survive what came next. Desire darkened her expression, her kiss-swollen lips and sultry eyes testing every ounce of his restraint. He could be on top of her in an instant, buried deep inside, drinking from her subclavian artery—marking her as his.
Isla’s head cocked to one side, realization dawning in her expression. With a gasp, she pushed away from him and covered her mouth with her hand.
“I just came onto you!” The horrified tone stomped down his ardor. Isla rolled to her back, sat up and spread fingers through her hair. “I don’t why I did that.”
Gavin chuckled, sitting too. “You’re not doing much for my ego, right now.”
She raised her eyebrows. “The serum?”
“It boosted your endorphins. That’s all.”
Desire still flashed in her eyes. Fuck. He’d given plenty of people doses of serum, and none of them had turned into hot little sex kittens afterward. His body thrummed with a steady beat of longing, making him very aware that he liked her newly awakened sex kitten.
“Oh.” She almost sounded disappointed. Isla gathered her long hair over one shoulder, He’d better move. Serum or not, his cock was hard as steel and seconds away from claiming her.
“Are you leaving?” she asked quickly.
Little tingles raced over his scalp. He held his breath for a beat. He didn’t intend to while the hunter was still on the loose but was curious to her reaction. “Do you want me to?”
Her fingers wrung together. After a long pause, she shook her head. “Stay.”
Their eyes met. Isla looked down with a shy smile.
“You know the one thing that helped my patients deal with coming to the end of their lives? Not dying alone. Having someone there, to maybe just hold their hand or sit with them in those last moments.”
She looked up, a tear running over her cheek. “Bjorn trusted you, so I do too. He’d be here if he could.”
Gavin slid across the mattress, gathered her next to him as her tears fell. His emotional net ripped, spewing out a mix of anger and sadness and urgency. He smoothed her hair, kissed her temple. He wanted to provide comfort but wished he felt brotherly about it.
“I found Bjorn’s poison pills in your hand. Why didn’t he help you take them at home where he could be with you? Why come here instead?”
Her smooth cheek nestled in his neck, prompting him to hold her tighter. “It felt wrong. I wouldn’t ask that of Bjorn. He’d never live with himself.”
“He was counting on me to help you.” Gavin wiped his hands over her wet cheeks when she pulled back.
“Yes.” He quivered as her palm smoothed over his chest, her face resuming its nest against his neck.
Gavin absorbed the simple joy of feeling her in his arms, the soft contours of her body comforting and welcome. Despite how perfect she felt against him, he knew there was no hope here. He could try to save her, but if he failed, her death would be a thousand times worse than the pain she already suffered. He couldn’t risk it; wouldn’t even ask her to consider it.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”
She tipped her chin for a small kiss. He couldn’t deny her. “Because the more I look at you, the less I want what I came here for.”
Gavin caressed her right hand. The helpless feeling inside him grew. Her admission should have made him feel ten feet tall, but it reminded him of what he couldn’t have.
“Is euphoric death what you really want?”
“I have to die, and that’s how I want to go.”
Gavin lay back against the pillows, taking her with him. Her arm slid around his bare chest as she settled easily against him.
Her voice shook, “When will the serum wear off?”
Gavin let their hands down and stared at the ceiling. “Tomorrow.” His arm tightened around her as she buried her head in his shoulder.
“Will you help me?”
He sighed. He’d help her, but not in the way she was expecting. “Yes.”
“Before the pain comes again. I can’t go through it again.”
Breath rushed out of him as if his very life were expelling out his heart.” Okay.”
“Tomorrow?”
He stared into the silver-hued dark. “Tomorrow.”
Chapter Twelve
Gavin kept a hand over Isla’s eyes while he led her into the snow behind the cabin. When the drifts tangled with her feet, he swept her up into his arms and carried her. Her delighted shout and the way she looped one arm around his neck melted him inside. Gavin pushed back the emotions swirling inside him, focusing instead on how her laugh chimed like crystal and blended with the frost.
“Ready?” he asked.
He set her down, sliding his hand over the narrow curve of her waist and letting his fingers linger. He resisted the urge to slip his hand under her coat and feel the warmth of her skin. He needed these easy moments to prepare for what was to come. He uncovered her eyes. The joy in her expression captivated him and as she turned to make a full circle, her eyes cast upwards, he followed her, never taking his gaze off her face.
She was beautiful. And he was captured in her awe.
Isla reached up and whisked her fingertips over the bottom of a cornflower blue Mason jar hanging from the trees. There were ten of them, each illuminated with a small candle inside. Their soft golden glow broke through the blue-gray haze of the frosty day. More candles decorated the center of the weathered barn board table he’d found in the shed behind the house. Two chairs with unraveling wicker backs and old, dusty cushions made a cozy den in the snow. He’d brought deerskin and laid them fur-side up over the cushions, and a large red and black wool check blanket for her lap. Cast iron oil lanterns sat on the ground near each table leg, melting perfect rings into the snow.
He wanted to give Isla a sanctuary. No matter the cold or the bone-jarring dampness. No matter her weakness. She’d wanted to be out here on one of the coldest nights of the year. Though she didn’t tell him why, he suspected she’d wanted to draw energy and peace from the calm winter nights.
So, he’d give it to her again, this time, with a little more comfort and warmth.
Isla ma
de a slow walk around the table, her hand trailing along the edge. Daylight struggled to peek through the web of frost and ice woven through the loom of branches. A blue ring encompassed the dying sun, hidden behind a veil of grey—the same blue ring that would embrace the moon tonight when he took her life. And when it was done, he’d come here and sit and remember her in these moments, in this sanctuary, which wouldn’t hold respite for him again.
Gavin moved to a small bucket on the edge of the table and pulled out a bottle.
“Red current wine.” He saluted her with the bottle and her smile fell. Bracing both hands on the edge of the table, Isla dipped her head with a shudder. When she looked up, two crystal tears clung to her eyes, illuminating the mossy green irises to a brilliant emerald. Streaks of pink on her cheeks colored her pale, milky skin. Gavin braced himself in a mirror of her posture, leaning over the table and urging her to look at him.
“Isla?”
She wiped her eyes and gave him a huge smile. “Thank you for this.”
He pulled out a chair, beckoning her over with a wave of his arm. “Wine?”
Isla slid up next to him, pausing in his body heat before sitting. He removed gold foil from the mouth of the wine bottle and popped the cork. The sleeve of his heavy green cable-knit sweater slid over the rough tabletop as he handed her a glass. His breath quickened when their eyes met. Breath puffed out like smoke from between her soft lips.
Gavin knelt next to her chair, gripping the table with a hand. Every time he thought to speak, he decided not to. Words would be intruders in this brief respite. He pulled the blanket over her lap and tucked it before sitting next to her.
They sat in content silence, sipping wine, watching birds come and go in one final flurry before the sun went down. He’d peek at her over his glass, find her peeking back at him. The blush deepened on her cheeks each time he caught her staring. She set the glass down, traced the stem with the tip of one finger.
When she shuddered from the cold, he took her hand and led her inside. He’d barely shut the door when she pressed against him, her hands gripping his neck to pull him down to her. Her chin lifted for his kiss, but she pulled back at the last second.
“Damn serum! I’m sor — "
Gavin tugged her back to him. “What if it’s not the serum?”
“What do you mean?”
“You have the moon mark. I don’t know how, or why. You speak telepathically to me. These are impossible things.”
In one swift motion, he had her hitched onto his waist, one arm braced under her butt, the other across her back, his hand winding in her hair. A deep, insistent surge of need crested hard inside his gut, leaving no doubt in his mind. “We could be mates.”
Her cheeks blossomed pink. “What?”
Gavin ran his hand through the length of her hair, kissed her full and hard. He pulled away just long enough to slip off her jacket and pull the sweater over her head.
“The way I want you... The way it hurts deep inside and makes me crazy... It’s the call to make you mine.” Gavin walked toward the bedroom, his hands following the curve of her waist to her hips. It was impossible. It was too much to hope for. But he couldn’t deny the signs—didn’t want to deny them.
“Wait. Gavin, don’t you have to turn me for that?”
“Make you Ahpret?” His fingers dug into her hips, his lips giving little suction pulls along her neck. “No. Humans are only turned for breeding purposes. You can be my mate and remain human. But- “
A small groan rumbled from her throat. “But?”
“Turning would give you the healing power of the Ahpret. It may save your life.”
He wasn’t sure, of course, but he’d heard of it happening. A human infused with Ahpret blood may be able to be cured of disease. It was an uncertain risk. A painful one.
“The grizzly inside me is huge and aggressive. I can’t turn you without giving you the bear, do you understand? Your body must be able to tolerate the shift from human to grizzly. The turning process is savage, painful. I want to do this for you, but the bear will rip you apart. You’ll never survive it.”
He cupped her face with his hands. “There’s another way to turn you, but we’re out of time. You won’t survive the journey.”
She gripped his wrists. “Tell me how.”
“You must be turned by a shifter with a smaller animal than mine. Something easier for your body to handle. We must get to Canada for this to happen.”
For the first time since he’d sent his people away, going to Canada wasn’t a choice for him. It was a desperate need. His family and friends hadn’t been able to convince him to join them. He’d preferred to wallow in his failure as a protector, as a servant to Kaleo. But now, now it was urgent they leave.
He lay her down on the bed. “Isla, if it were possible, would you turn?”
“As your mate?”
“Only if you choose it.”
Gavin knelt between her legs on one knee, cupped the slope of her shoulders. The slight shudder that raced through her body told him she welcomed his heat, his closeness. He dipped his head behind her ear, letting his breath wash over the exposed length of neck. She smelled like mint and lemon and sugar and he could hardly contain the want to taste all of her.
“Yes.”
Her head moved, subtly inviting him to press deeper. Gavin obliged by resting his cheek to the soft line where her silky hair met soft flesh. A tug-of-war started building. Go slow with every thought to her fragility, or let the drive of an Ahpret first mating free? Males controlled the first mating, an act that was often aggressive and forceful. Gavin had no doubt it would be a struggle, but he’d utilize every shred of restraint inside him to ensure their joining was anything but.
Humans allowed more give and play in the intensity of lovemaking instead of the unleashed frenzy his animal craved. He needed to focus on the human.
He’d slept with his fair share of women and never once had problems with control. But he’d never considered making any of them his mate, either, leaving him no reason to test his restraint. Once he bit Isla while her body climaxed beneath him, all bets were off, and the animal would fight against every shred of willpower he had.
Isla looped a hand around his neck and toyed with his hair. Her eyes were soft and wanting. Gavin’s animal began a furious pacing inside, heating his blood and pounding at his temples. He tasted her on his palate as the scent of her skin flooded his nose. As she surrounded him with her sound, her smell and her taste, Gavin was braced with the sudden truth that if he couldn’t help her, he’d never be able to wrap himself up in her again. Everything he’d come to enjoy about her would be ripped away and buried, by his own hand.
Alone was all he’d known for too long. Alone is what he’d come to accept. But now that she was here, he couldn’t imagine how he’d handle one second of solitude after her death. She was a gift of hope that he wouldn’t be forever alone in a world filled with terror of his own design. She was his beacon for coming back into his human side where he flexed the lost ability to feel something, anything, but anger and guilt.
Isla was the gift of remembered humanity.
He moved low over her. She grabbed his shirt in fistfuls, leaning up into him with supplication and matched emotion. When he felt her hot tears on his neck, Gavin’s floodgate came unleashed. He slid Isla farther back on the mattress, bringing his other knee up and straddling her. And then he kissed her with a forceful, openmouthed kiss that stole any response she might have had.
He didn’t care. He wanted to go equal parts fast and slow, to rush it, to prolong it. Her head was braced between his hands and her hair tickled the sensitive insides of his wrists. His radial pulses kicked into overdrive, bounding inside his wrists at her inadvertent touch. Gavin pressed her into the mattress, sliding his tongue alongside hers until he was deeply inside her mouth.
Her hands smoothed up his ribs, dragging his shirt with until it bunched along his shoulders. Gavin slipped his hands under th
e hem of her tee shirt and splayed his fingers along her middle. He paused there, feeling her belly move with each breath and loving the shiver that rippled over her skin. Hooking the fabric in his thumbs, he slowly brought the shirt up as his palms whisked over her abdomen, ribs, and the peaks of her naked breasts. Her nipples were hard under his hands, making him groan as he whisked over them. Without a sound, she sat when he nudged her and whisked the shirt over her head.
Her collarbone was a fragile reminder of her femininity. Gavin kissed the hollow of her throat, swirling the tip of his tongue over the tender flesh and relishing the taste of her skin. Keeping a gentle pressure on either side of her collarbone with his fingertips, Gavin lightly kissed down her chest to between her breasts. They were beautiful, small, but perfect for his hands, with hard, rosy tips. He nuzzled his nose against one pert nipple. Isla squirmed, shifting closer to him with a soft breath. Her acceptance flamed the animal and the drive for dominance.
Gavin sucked a nipple between his lips and tugged. Isla cried out, her chin tilting so she could look at him. It warmed Gavin to see the willingness in her eyes, the need for more. He’d give her more. He’d give to her until he had nothing left.
Softening his mouth, he watched her watching him as he swirled her nipple with his tongue. When he moved to the other breast, she let her head sink back onto the pillow. He slid his hands down her chest with just enough pressure to leave red streaks on her pale skin. Circumventing her breasts, he raked his fingers over her narrow ribs to her waist where he gripped her hips with his palms.
Gavin nibbled his way down her middle while kneading his fingers into the sensitive skin over her hip bones. With slight pressure, he pressed his hands inward, squeezing her hips and the nerves that ran to her pubic bone. She gasped as he did it again while his lips pressed kisses over her jeans at the top of her pubis. His teeth and hands worked in tandem to slide her jeans and panties down over her thighs and calves, over delicate ankles and off her pink-tipped toes.
Pink tipped toes he saw digging into the pristine snow under the blue moon as she stepped out into the night and cleared her circle of snow. It was a sight he’d never be able to erase from memory, not that he’d even try.