by M. L. Briers
“Just returning the favour,” she offered back, eyes narrowing on him as he gave a slow, deep growl that never escaped his chest. Her hand might have stung like a she-witch, but it was definitely worth it.
“Take your damn clothes off.” Dexter growled at her, and watched as she slowly raised just one eyebrow up towards her hairline.
“Go shag yourself,” she hissed back.
“Right then.” He growled, reaching out for her again, but she sidestepped him and brought her foot up between his inner thighs, and with a surprised yelp, he was back down on the floor on all fours holding his crown jewels once more.
“Do you never learn, man?” She hissed out and he twisted his head on his neck and stared up at her through his tears as a whimper escaped his throat…
“I… really… don’t… like… witches…” he gasped in and breathed out each and every word.
For the first time since he’d met her, a big, bright smile came to her lips and lit her brown eyes. It was mesmerising and he just wished that he gotten to see it without his own tears clouding his vision.
“Tough.” She offered back.
~
~
~
Connor saw the site of the crash and groaned inwardly. He recognised the motorbike instantly – the car he wasn’t so sure about.
“Pull over,” Connor directed Janette and the witch did just that.
“What is it?” She didn’t have the same kind of clarity of vision in the darkness that the vampire had.
“Dexter’s bike, there’s been a crash,” he popped open the door lock and pushed outside into the frosty night air – heard Janette do the same. Then he saw the bright shaft of light from the torch that she was holding and snorted in amusement.
“Cheat,” he tossed across at her and she snorted.
“Hey, I could light this whole area with my magic if you’d like?”
“Not necessary, there’s no one here…” he looked around as far as he could see into the distance in all directions.
“So they’d be walking wounded?” She shot back and turned to find him missing… “Hey?” Then he was back, right in front of her this time and she wrenched her upper body back and hissed at him.
“Don’t – do – that!”
Connor chuckled. Taking the torch from her hand he clicked it off.
“The one from the car is a witch. I couldn’t scent any blood, so wherever they are, and as long as Dexter hasn’t turned rogue and eaten her, I’m guessing they’re fine.” He offered.
“Well shouldn’t you go look for them?” Janette asked and he snorted.
“I’m not Dexter’s keeper or a damn bloodhound. I’m a v-a-m-p-i-r-e.”
“But what if he hurts her?” Janette frowned and Connor sighed.
“Fine. You go home and I’ll follow the tracks and scent.” He groaned, unsure why these damn witches had such a neutering effect on his manhood.
Janette reached up, pinched the skin of his cheek between her thumb and finger, like a maiden aunt, and babied him.
“You’re such a good blood hound,” she teased and Connor groaned.
“Remind me to kill you first should I ever turn back to my bloodlusting ways.” He offered and she chuckled.
“Go get em,” she chuckled again and he groaned.
“Witches will be the death of us all.”
~
~
~
“That’s three for three, and if you ever knee me in the balls again…” Dexter let the words of warning hang in the air on a low, deep growl.
He was slowly getting himself to his feet. He’d never been more grateful for the Lycan blood that ran through his veins. That last kick would have had him singing soprano for a week if it wasn’t for his heeling blood.
“You’ll what? Take it like a man?” Isobel was already standing over the other side of the room with the bed separating them. She knew that she wasn’t far enough away from him to be completely safe of his clutches, and yet, it made her feel a little easier, like she’d a moment in time to zap him a good one should he try anything.
“Just get your damn clothes off before I come over there and we start this whole thing over again.” He growled, turning towards the wardrobe a little too fast for his own good as a red hot poker of pain travelled through him once more and he grunted and muttered dark curses.
“Good to see romance isn’t dead in your world,” she sneered.
Dexter wrenched open the wardrobe door a little too hard and it came off in his hand. The top of the door bounced off of his forehead with a loud thud before his reflexes kicked in and he caught it with a growl and another curse to the sound of her laughter that filled the room. That sound rubbed over his last nerve the wrong way, and made him roll his eyes back in his head…
“If you’re looking for romance then you shouldn’t have come looking for me.” He bit out, sidestepping, and placing the door against the wall.
“Firstly, wolf, I didn’t come looking for you-”
“Dexter, my damn name is Dexter…” he growled.
“Oh, like the murdering psycho on TV, good to get a perspective on that one…” She snapped back to another deeper growl that let her know that she was hitting home. “And secondly, Dexter, I don’t want, nor do I need, romance in my life.”
“Good, because you’re not going to get it with me.” He reached into the wardrobe and grabbed at the first things he could find – a sweatshirt that could fit two of her inside, and a pair of sweatpants that would drown her curves would do the job, for now.
“You’d better keep your distance from me,” she snapped out.
“And you….’d…” He turned to find her half undressed. The ripped outer layer of her top was gone, and so were her jeans. She stood there shivering in only her bra and panties, and he stood there with his jaw hanging down, his eyes sweeping over the curves of her body, and the twitchiest damn erection of his life to date…
“Keep staring, why don’t ya?” She hissed at him, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe at the sight of her… “Hey!”
Isobel snapped her fingers and zapped him a good one, catching him unawares in those erotic images that filled his mind, and the sting of pain made him jump to attention in place.
He grunted and snapped his mouth closed. His eyes shot to hers and saw the daggers there, and he was sure he’d drooled a little on his chin.
“I’m not a lump of meat for you to drool over, wolf.” She hissed back.
Dexter tossed the clothes across the room a little harder than he’d meant to. She caught them with her face and took a slight step back, squawking with anger as she reached up and snatched them downwards.
When her eyes locked back onto him – there was a smirk on his lips that she wanted to zap clean away…
“Listen, witch-”
“I-s-o-b-e-l.” She craned her neck forward towards him.
“Good – for – you,” he growled back, and she snapped her head back on her neck again, her eyes spitting fire even as they narrowed on him. “I’m going to start a fire and you’re going to get dressed, and no more witch crap.”
“Oh,” she offered just as he started to turn away and he held in place. “You discovered how to make fire, not a total caveman then.”
Dexter bit down on every curse word that threatened to escape his lips as his eyes narrowed to slits in his head and he allowed the angry rumble of his growl to roll through him. Then he set off for the cabin door with the intention of getting the hell away from her… and turning on the generator and fetching the firewood, but those last two things were just gravy…
The further away from her that he could get the better, before his wolf decided not to play nicely anymore.
~
CHAPTER SIX
~
“I hear she’s not dead then.” Connor almost made Dexter jump out of his damn skin when the man’s words drifted down from the treeline above the back of the cabin.
His
beast roared within him, wanting to strike out at the intruder, and him a vampire and all, and yet, he’d known Connor his whole damn life, and as much as it pained him to think it right then – he couldn’t ever foresee ending the man.
“Lurking damn leech.” Dexter growled out as he stalked towards the generator that was housed inside a lean too for protection from the elements of the mountain.
“Guilty as charged.” Connor grinned. “Please tell me that she’s your mate and make my millennium.”
“That how long you’ve roamed the Earth annoying people?” Dexter growled back, bringing the generator to life with a satisfied grunt before turning his attention towards the wood pile.
“Who is the witch?” Connor asked again. He liked to get his facts straight before he went to the alpha with the news.
Dexter stopped in place and took a moment. His head was all over the place from finding his mate, and her being a damned she-devil to boot.
Now he had a vampire to deal with, even as the mating pull worked through his veins – faster now because his damn adrenaline had been pushed to the limit from her exploits.
“She’s your mate, isn’t she?” Connor’s voice was dripping in glee, and along with that melodic tone was a whole lot of challenge for him to deny it. Dexter bit down on one curse after the other.
“Go to hell,” he bit out.
“Already been there – too warm – I prefer winters on the mountain.” Connor shot back, riling Dexter up a little more.
“Just go the hell away, vampire.” Dexter spat out – wanting the man gone for many reasons, one of them being his protective side didn’t like the thought of a vampire anywhere near Isobel.
“She’s getting to you,” Connor teased and Dexter groaned inwardly. Never had truer words been spoken. The damn witch was getting to him, in ways that he could never have imagined feeling.
A mate.
A human mate.
A human Fae mate.
A witch.
I’m a dead man in so many damned ways…
What have I done to deserve this?
I come to the mountain to find a little peace within and what do I get…?
A mate.
A Human damn mate.
A witch… a witch… He groaned inwardly.
I came back to make sure I didn’t go rogue, and now I have a mate that’s gonna push me towards it faster than an avalanche…
I don’t know what to do with that.
“Well, look at you, lost for words.” Connor grinned as Dexter’s eyes snapped towards him, and the vampire could have sworn that he’d heard them move in his eye sockets.
“G-o – a-w-a-y.” Dexter said slowly.
“Tell me that she’s your mate and I’m gone.” Connor tossed back.
“Why would you stay?” Dexter growled, turning his whole body towards the vampire now sitting in the tree, legs dangling down low enough for Dexter to grab and pull him off his perch if he could make it to the man fast enough… it was tempting…
“To protect the witch from your not – so – friendly wolf, should she need it-”
“She doesn’t need protecting from me.” Dexter growled out a warning, long, hard, and deep towards the vampire.
“Because protecting her is your job?” Connor shot back.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But if I were to go in there and-”
“Stay away from the cabin or I’ll rip your damn head off.”
“Because she scents of peaches and that sounds tasty-” Connor shot back and Dexter moved fast, rushing towards him and making a lunge for Connor’s legs just as the vampire pushed up out of his reach, and Dexter stumbled, knocking his forehead against the tree trunk, and he grunted, growled, and cursed at missing his chance.
“Touch my mate and I’ll kill you.” Dexter growled out, long and hard to the sight of Connor’s smirk as he snapped his head up and glared at the bloodsucker.
“It would have been so much easier for you if you’d just admitted the first time – that she was your mate,” Connor offered down to the grunting wolf man, and Dexter’s fists eased slightly at his sides.
“You’re still a pain in the ass,” he growled upwards.
“Well, that makes two of us.” Connor said, hopping from the branch that he was on to one further away from the cabin.
“You’re leaving?” Dexter growled.
“I think three is one too many in this scenario, and I told you I would if you admitted that she was your mate.” Connor hopped to another branch. Then he stopped and frowned down. “Do not eat your mate.” He started for the next branch and then stopped. “In a bad way, of course.”
“Get the hell out of here.” Dexter growled back – the visions that the vampire had put in his head of Isobel lying open to him on the bed, riled him up…
“With pleasure,” Connor chuckled, hopping to the next branch. “Enjoy.”
Connor’s parting shot made Dexter growl once more. Enjoy… His mate was a she-demon in a woman’s body…
Enjoy – my – ass.
~
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~
Isobel had discarded her clothes and changed as fast as she could into the baggy offerings that Dexter had literally thrown at her. It was good to be dry, and the extra material that gathered around her body warmed her a little more – but still, she would rather have her own damn clothes than his offerings.
When the lights had gone on she’d been startled… but the walls didn’t cave in and the world didn’t end, so she told herself to move on. She looked around the meagre offerings that his cabin provided.
A half kitchen – come living room – come bedroom, a door to the back, which she hoped was a bathroom because she wasn’t fond of peeing in the woods like a bear. One bed and a sofa. It wasn’t exactly home from home, but then she didn’t really have a home at the moment, unless crashing on a friend’s sofa counted as one.
Life pretty much sucked for her on the home front at the moment, and she feared it had only just gotten worse…
A mate… of all the stupid…
Not just any mate, oh no… a wolf…
Not just a wolf mate, but a bad tempered, growly, broody, arrogant wolf mate…
Geez…
I’d say could I be anymore… blessed… Pah! But that would be taunting fate to throw me another curveball, and no thanks…
Isobel dropped her backside down on the edge of the bed and pouted at her misfortune.
If I’d only have left this damn journey until tomorrow…
Yeah, I still would have met the damn man somewhere along the way…
A wolf mate… Geez… give me a break.
Fine, fate, he’s sexy gorgeous with more than a hint of bad boy about him, but come on… a wolf?
Really?
What’d I ever do to you?
The sound of the front door being booted open sent her back up on her feet, when her body had only just started to settle, to relax a little, and at first sight of him coming through the doorway, shoulder to shoulder with the frame, a pile of wood in his big, muscled arms… well, her heart kicked her in the ribs like a mule and excitement flashed through her once more…
~
CHAPTER SEVEN
~
Heat – a deep heat started in the heart of her femininity and rushed outwards…
Who needs a fire when I just have to look at him?
Damn, but that’s not good…
I know I’d said I’d do anything if we both just lived through the crash, but really? This?
Dexter half hesitated in the doorway as his eyes met and locked with hers. Those dark eyebrows of his tried to knit together and looked like two caterpillars doing a mating dance of their own…
Puppy dog eyes… how damn ironic that the man had puppy dog eyes…
I liked puppies… him, not so damn much.
Isobel tore her gaze away from his and out of the corner of her eye she saw him push inside and close the
door behind him. A few paces and she had to shift her stance a little to keep him in her peripheral view as he dropped down onto one knee in front of the fire place and allowed the wood to roll down his arms onto the floorboards with a clatter and a few thuds.
He lit a long match and held it under the chimney to make certain that there wasn’t a blockage, that the smoke would rise, and when he was satisfied that they wouldn’t get smoked out, he started to build the fire.
Isobel didn’t know what to do with herself. She wanted to leave, but she knew that was impossible. She had no idea where they were or where she would be going if she could even manage to get away from him…
But there was also that… what she needed to consider more than anything else right then and there… Without her, Dexter would almost certainly go rogue.
Fate was an evil puppet master. If the mating pull wasn’t enough to contend with then there was also the threat of a shifter going insane without his mate…
How cruel to levy that burden on two people.
Fate played for keeps, liked to win, and would undoubtedly do everything to ensure the outcome was to its satisfaction.
Only the cruellest, most unfeeling of hearts could contemplate leaving a man to go insane. But, maybe this one didn’t count because he was heading that way already…?
Isobel hesitated for a moment before she stalked towards the kitchen. She needed to be doing something other than just standing there and debating her attraction to him… and she was attracted, there was no two ways around that, because fate had seen to it that the man was sexier than hell, and with a body that promised every kind of sin imaginable…
Isobel groaned inwardly at the wicked thoughts that ran through her mind. She wanted to smite fate, and him, and turn her back on being told whom to love… and yet that mating pull was raw and powerful within her body, within her mind, and probably burrowing its way into her soul as she riffled through cupboards looking at what he had in the way of supplies.