They rocked together in a deep, sensual glide, like waves slipping over the top of an ocean, their hunger building in a sweet, inexorable climb, while their breaths shortened, heat layering on heat as their bodies turned slick with sweat. Kellan touched his mouth to the delicate edge of her jaw, his hands greedily roaming her body as he kissed his way down the slender column of her throat, over the hammering beat of her heart, until he took one nipple into his mouth, her inner muscles clasping his cock in a wet, pulsing grip that made him growl. His fangs started to slip his gums, and he locked his jaw, fighting it with everything that he had as they came together on a long, surreal wave of pleasure that just kept going…and going, until he felt like he’d pumped out his very soul.
“Christ, I can’t get enough of you,” he breathed out in a low voice, clutching her against his body as they lay on their sides afterward among the crumpled bedding, her head tucked under his chin, their legs tangled in a sensual mesh of limbs.
“You know,” she whispered, nuzzling her mouth against his chest, “when a man says something like that, it’s usually followed by something more, Kell.”
He stiffened with that familiar tension and closed his eyes, holding her a little tighter than before, as if she was suddenly going to slip away from him. “I wish like hell that I could give you more—” he swallowed, choking on the bitter taste of regret “—but I can’t.”
“Can’t? Or won’t?”
Kellan knew damn well what she wanted to hear, but he couldn’t do it. He’d seen his friend Ian Buchanan, the first Merrick to be awakened, make a jackass of himself when he’d tried to keep away from his woman, refusing to feed from her until he’d almost lost her. The same could be said for his brother during all the years Kellan had tried to avoid his true feelings for Morgan Cantrell.
In Ian’s case, he’d been terrified of accidentally killing Molly, and Kierland had feared what his jealousy would drive him to do. But Kellan’s situation was different. He already had a fairly definite handle on his future—one that didn’t look good. He couldn’t make Chloe promises that he might not be around to keep, and he couldn’t tell her the truth about the poison, worried about what she might do to try to help him.
So with a deep breath, he choked out the hoarse words that needed to be said. “No matter how badly I wish things were different, the truth is that I’m not good enough for you, Chloe. I’m damaged goods, in more ways than one. The last thing you need is to start getting intense about me.”
She pushed against his chest, and he forced himself to let her go as she pulled away from him and sat up. Locking his jaw, Kellan propped himself up in the bed, resting his back against the carved headboard. She gathered the sheet into her hands, holding it against her breasts as she turned to face him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she wet her lips and said, “I don’t mean to pressure you, Kellan. I mean, I know how crazy I sound—but then, this whole situation is crazy. I just…I don’t understand what you want from me.”
“I want…” Too many things, he thought. But to Chloe, he simply said, “Tonight, I want to pretend that I’m the kind of man you could be proud to have at your side. The kind you could want for something more than just a hot time in the sack.”
“You are that kind of man,” she told him, clutching the sheet tighter against her chest, the gray of her eyes darkening with emotion.
With a bitter, breathless bark of laughter, he scrubbed his hands down his face. “I’m not even close,” he muttered, bracing his arms on his bent knees, his hands shaking with slight, almost imperceptible tremors. “Christ, I’ve been a fuckup my entire life, Chloe. I think you could do better. Hell, I know you could do better.”
“That’s not—”
“If you knew the things I’d done then you’d understand. It’s not just the women. A shitty reputation I could get over, by proving to you that I’ve changed, but some of my mistakes were big ones. Ones that hurt my friends. That almost got them killed.”
She started to argue, but he cut her off again, his voice dropping as he said, “A few months ago, I almost got an innocent woman killed because I was screwing one of the Casus females while I was working up in Washington with Riley Buchanan. The woman was Riley’s fiancée, Hope, and that Casus bitch almost got to her because of me.”
Her eyes went wide with shock, and Kellan knew that Raine had been telling him the truth when she’d promised to keep what she knew about his time in Washington to herself. “Did you…did you know what she was?” she asked. “The Casus, I mean.”
“No, but it doesn’t excuse what happened,” he growled, that old, familiar guilt coiling through his insides, twisting him into knots as he dropped his head back against the headboard, closing his eyes. “And it sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m not to blame.”
SHE MIGHT NOT HAVE possessed the Lycan’s incredible senses, but Chloe could recognize his shame. The raw, painful emotion blasted against her like a hot wind, and she longed for the right words to soothe him. “Mistakes happen,” she said in a soft voice. “A bad choice doesn’t make you a bad person, Kell.”
His face tightened, his voice so guttural, it barely sounded human. “There aren’t good people who do bad things, Chloe. There are just bad people.”
“That’s not true. Look at us, Kellan. Look at what you’ve done for me. You were willing to throw it all away, and for what? A stranger. Someone you didn’t even know.”
“You’re wrong,” he argued, lifting his head, and the look in his dark, glittering eyes stole her breath. “I knew a lot about you before I ever even set foot in the Wasteland. I talked to Olivia about you every chance I got. I knew you were smart and honest and loyal. Funny and sweet and sometimes a little shy, but courageous as hell. And everything I learned just made it that much clearer to me that I had to get close to you.”
“And now you’re close to me,” she whispered, fighting to hold back her tears. “But I still can’t have you, can I?”
“Don’t,” he rasped, his eyes burning a bright, unholy blue.
“Why not? It’s true, isn’t it? You’re just using these excuses to keep—”
“You’re wrong,” he snarled, and the next thing she knew he was across the bed and pressing her into the mattress, pinning her beneath his heavily muscled body as he took hold of her wrists, trapping them above her head. “Not making you promises about the future,” he growled, his deep voice breathless and rough. “Not talking to you about the future… Christ, Chloe. It’s the most unselfish thing I’ve ever done in my life!”
“So it’s all for my own good?”
“Yes!”
“That’s such bullshit!” she snapped, unable to hold back the hot spill of tears as she struggled against him, the power of her Merrick rushing through her blood, but its strength was no match for the Lycan’s. He simply pressed the hard, solid length of his muscular body more heavily against hers, trapping her beneath him.
“Please, Chloe, just listen to me,” he groaned, burying the rough, fractured words in her hair. “I don’t want to lose what time we have left. Just…just know that if I could, I’d give you everything.”
“Kellan, I—”
“Damn it, just shut up and listen!” he barked, drawing back his head so that he could look down at her, his expression one of raw, tormented agony. “If I could, I’d make you every promise that can be made between a man and a woman. Every goddamn one,” he growled, forcing the words through his clenched teeth. “But that’s not an option. I wish like hell that it was, but it’s not.”
“Oh, God,” she whispered, fear suddenly slicing through her like a blade. “There’s something going on, isn’t there? Something you’re not telling me. Something bad.”
He took a deep, shuddering breath, then managed to say, “Nothing’s wrong, Chloe. I just…I just want you to be safe. I want you to have a good life, and that’s not…that’s not something I can give you.”
He sounded sincere, but every instinct she possessed was s
creaming that he was keeping something from her. Something important. She could see the truth burning in his eyes. Feel it tremoring through his body.
She just didn’t know if it was something they could get through together.
Or something that would tear them apart…
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The Wasteland, north of the Sabin compound
Saturday, 3:00 a.m.
THIS WAS IT. Crunch time.
Careful to avoid Juliana’s sentries, Kellan had managed to slip away from the Sabin compound without detection, the crushed juniper leaves he’d rubbed into his skin successfully masking his scent, helping him to blend in with the surrounding forest. Determined to make sure that Chloe would be cared for no matter how his night ended, he’d left behind a letter for Kierland, explaining that he wanted her to be given his portion of their inheritance, as well as a place to live at Harrow House for as long as she wanted. There was so much more that he’d needed to say, but in the end, Kellan had simply finished the letter by telling Kierland that he loved him and wished him all the happiness he could find, since there was no one who deserved it more. Then he’d slid the envelope beneath his brother’s door, and though he’d wanted to go back to his room and look in on Chloe one last time, he’d forced himself to leave.
For over an hour now, he’d been stalking through the wind-chilled forest, on the hunt for Gregory, and he needed to concentrate, but he couldn’t get Chloe out of his mind. After their heated argument over her suspicions that he was keeping something from her, he’d spent long, breathless minutes coaxing her to relax. Tempting her to give in to the provocative burn of pleasure so that he could lose himself in her sweet, warm body…blocking the brutal reality that lay on the other side of midnight. And once she’d surrendered, he’d taken her into that rich, rushing darkness again…and again, his body already addicted to the way that she moved and tasted and came. Their time together had been nothing short of mind-blowing, the sex so explosive he was surprised they hadn’t set the bed on fire. And after she’d taken another feeding, drinking deeply from his vein, she’d slipped gracefully into a heavy, exhausted slumber. Kellan had dozed with his cheek pressed against her stomach, two fingers buried deep inside her, just needing that connection with her. Needing to be a part of her, for as long as he could.
And now that he’d left her, he was in even worse shape than he’d feared he would be. The hold he’d had on the wolf during their lovemaking was slipping away from him, the animal howling with fury, enraged that he’d walked away without staking their claim, marking her as their woman. But then, the beast still believed they were going to make it out of this alive, while Kellan knew better.
Still, he’d come prepared. The heat of the Marker Chloe had left on the bedside table burned inside his pocket, thrumming with power. He wasn’t just going to kill Gregory’s host body and send his shade back to Meridian, where the Casus could eventually escape again. No, he wanted the bastard gone for good, which meant he had to use the cross and blast DeKreznick’s ass straight to hell.
He was currently making his way across a moonlit meadow, thinking he might have just caught a faint trace of Gregory’s scent, when the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Shit, he thought, spinning around, searching the milky rays of moonlight for the source of his apprehension. A movement off to his left caught his eye, and he shifted in that direction, choking back a roar of frustration as, one by one, Reyker males began to stalk out of the surrounding forest, their pale gray eyes burning like sinister sparks of light.
And right in the center of the group stood Asa, the son of a bitch who had poisoned him.
Because they were Deschanel and could mask their scent, Kellan hadn’t been able to detect the vampires’ approach. And now it was too late. Cursing his monumentally crappy luck, the Lycan choked back a visceral snarl, knowing he would have to tread carefully with the Deschanel if he was going to continue on with his hunt.
“What do you want?” he asked, settling his sharp gaze on Asa Reyker’s tall, rangy form.
The vampire’s silver eyes burned with maniacal fire, his expression as bloodthirsty and mad as it’d been the last time Kellan had seen him. Hard to believe that it’d been little more than a week ago, when so much in his life had changed since then.
A week spent dying, and yet, they’d been the most meaningful days in Kellan’s entire life.
And everything he was losing, he was losing because of Asa—that sudden realization making him want to throw himself on the vamp and rip his bloody head off.
Not the time, he silently snarled, struggling to control his temper. Have to deal with Gregory first.
“What do you think I want?” the Deschanel finally replied, the husky words revealing a trace of a Scandinavian accent, reminding Kell of the way Gideon spoke. “We had a deal, Lycan. One you’ve failed to honor.”
Keeping a careful eye on the other eight members of the Reyker nest who were spreading themselves around the edges of the meadow, Kellan curled his hands into tight fists, his voice little more than a guttural rasp. “What the hell are you talking about? The deal was that I had to come and see you before I left the Wasteland. And I’m still here.”
Asa lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug, the long strands of his chocolate-colored hair blowing across his hard-featured face. “But the poison is breaking you down, and you won’t be any good to me dead, now will you?” he drawled, stalking across the meadow, until no more than a handful of feet separated them.
“I’m not dead yet,” Kellan muttered, while his wolf snarled with aggression, eager to tear into the bastard. “And I have every intention of honoring the deal. Just not at this moment.”
Asa hooked his thumbs in his front pockets, his tone eerily relaxed, as if they were merely discussing something as mundane as the weather. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. We settle it now.”
“Like hell we do,” Kellan argued, wanting to wipe the vamp’s smug expression right off his face. “There’s something I have to do first.”
“The terms of our deal were simple,” Asa murmured, clearly not listening to him. “You wanted to cross my land, and I wanted to feed from you in your were form. Not attack you—but simply enjoy taking your blood while you were bowing down before me, all obedient like. But since my bite is lethal, I offered you a deal that you were foolish enough to accept. If you survived your time in Westmore’s compound, then you were supposed to come back to me and fight me for the chance to survive. If you won, I’d give you the antidote to the poison burning through your system. And if you lost, I’d be allowed to finish the feeding, draining you dry.” The vampire lifted his brows. “And if you failed to show, then there would be dire consequences. Or did you forget?”
“Goddamn it!” he snarled. “I was coming back! But there’s something I have to do first.”
Rubbing his jaw, Asa said, “You’re probably talking about that Casus who wants your woman, but I’m afraid I can’t let you run off and get yourself killed.”
Kellan took a deep breath, then slowly let it out, his head pounding as he tried to think of a way out of this. “How did you even manage to find me?” he asked, stalling…racking his brain for a solution.
“I’m afraid that juniper won’t work on me,” Asa offered in response to his question. “You can cover your scent as much as you want, but I’ll still be able to track you. See, I’m one of those special breeds who can bloodtrack, just like your brother’s mate.”
A shape-shifter with an unusually eclectic bloodline, Morgan also possessed the ability to bloodtrack—honing in on the location of those she’d taken blood from—which was how she and Kierland had managed to track down Kellan in the Wasteland. Worried that he might not be able to get Chloe out of the compound on his own, Kellan had gone to Morgan before he’d left England and asked her to take his blood, knowing she’d be able to lead Kierland to him, so that they could be there to help if there was a problem.
It seemed a testa
ment to Kellan’s shitty luck that Asa could do the same damn thing.
“Listen,” he muttered. “I’m telling you the truth. I have every intention of coming back to you, once I’ve dealt with Gregory.”
The vampire smiled, slow and cruel…and hungry. “I’m afraid I don’t believe you. Nor do I particularly care.” Glancing at the others, he ordered, “Surround him.”
Realizing they were making a ring with their bodies, standing shoulder to shoulder, Kellan seethed with fury, his wolf rising within his body on a great wave of raw, predatory violence. He welcomed the change, knowing the beast would fare better against the powerful vampires than the man, considering the shape he was in—but he couldn’t make the complete shift into his were form. The poison had already wreaked too much destruction, and he only managed to release his claws and fangs. But he wouldn’t let it stop him, damn it.
“Then have it your way,” he snarled, flexing his long, sinister claws at his sides as he narrowed his gaze on Asa. “I’ll fight you, you fucking bastard.”
“Oh, I’m afraid that opportunity has passed now,” Asa murmured, a crooked smile touching his mouth. “You’ve forfeited, Lycan. And now your ass is mine.” Looking at his kinsmen, his voice hardened to one of guttural command as he said, “Get him down.”
“You son of a bitch!” Kellan roared, fighting with everything he had, clawing and biting like the savage animal he was, but there were too many of them. The Reykers descended on him all at once, like a devastating wave of darkness, spreading him out over the ground and holding him down, several pairs of hands gripping each straining limb. The silvery glow of moonlight shone at Asa’s back, leaving his face in shadow, his glowing gray eyes smoldering with insanity, and Kellan knew, in that moment, that his doubts about the antidote had been true. If the Reyker nest was in possession of such a thing, surely they would have used it on this twisted bastard, the poison clearly having warped his mind, much like the strain that had infected Juliana’s brother. As Asa sank down onto his knees beside him, the wolf seethed beneath Kellan’s skin, punching against the insides of his body, but no matter how ferociously it struggled, it could not get out.
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