Both Clive and Kendall had called her that evening. Kendall had assured her that nothing would change between them, and Clive mentioned that the Research Unit of NDS was currently working on some sort of cure for lyncropothy.
"It doesn't work on those naturally conceived as werewolves," he had explained, "but on humans who were changed."
It gave Bridgette some hope, but something inside of her told her that they couldn't exactly undo this.
When she entered her apartment that evening, Bridgette felt lonely. Nobody could really understand what she was going through. How could they? Did they know how it felt to wait around until what every text promised was a searing pain that shot through their body and transformed them into something unhuman?). She shouldn't stay in the city. Even the werewolves that worked at NDS were not permitted to live in the surrounding area. It was the forest for her, whenever she did transform.
Like hell would she go to Sterling, the man who ruined her life with a nip of her neck.
Her face contorted into a scowl just thinking about him, and she wished she had something she could throw against the wall so it would smash to bits and fall onto the floor.
She loathed, detested, and absolutely hated that man. Who the hell did he think he was, biting her, knowing she had no choice in the matter? Even if that woman she had met at his manor said was true, that he couldn't control himself around her, he still should have tried.
If all came to worse, well… she would just start her own pack of werewolves. That was permitted, wasn't it? Or, at least, be a lone wolf. Kind of like she was now.
And would a mark on her neck really keep men away from her? She didn't think so. It wasn't like the bite would repel the opposite sex.
Would it?
God, she hoped not. She couldn't go her whole entire life without sex.
Her head got heavy, her thoughts started to quiet, and before she knew it, she felt herself drifting off.
She just wasn't counting on a particular dream to litter her mind as she slept.
The first thing she noticed was how comfortable she was, completely naked in his bedroom. She was lying on her side, a cranberry colored satin sheet wrapped around her just so that all her private parts were hidden from his view. She was teasing him. She found that she liked doing such a thing. The corners of her lips twitched up as her eyes sparkled at him, her head resting firmly in the palm of her hand, held up by her elbow.
Marcus Sterling was standing at the left side of the bedroom, completely naked. He was looking at her with dangerous hazel eyes. It was the sort of look that caused an unwanted pulsating in her lower region to pound against her insides and her feminine folds to get increasingly wet. She pressed her lips together in order to hold back a whimper.
He was probably the most beautiful specimen she had ever laid her blue eyes upon. He was tall, as she had already known, but seeing him tower over her even now just further proved the height discrepancy between the two. His eyes burned through hers, and she could read utter desire for her flaming through them. His mouth was in a determined line, as though he was trying to figure out what he should do now. His shoulders, as she had imagined, were incredibly broad, encompassed by the muscle that rang true throughout the majority of his toned body. Even in his human form, he was a beast. And for whatever reason, it caused her to become even wetter than she already was.
Bridgette wanted to be lost in ecstasy with him on top of her, her fragile body underneath his strong one, losing any sense of right, wrong, up, down, here, and there. She didn't want to think about anything or anyone else; she needed him inside of her at that very moment or else she thought she would go absolutely insane.
She never felt as desperate for something in her life as she did then. It was insatiable; she craved him. She probably looked like an utter fool, but she didn't care. Not when she wanted it so badly.
He started to slowly pad toward the bed, and Bridgette hoped that the eagerness didn't shine too brightly in her eyes. He said nothing, but he maintained a firm eye contact with her. When he finally reached the piece of furniture, he hoisted himself up and placed himself so he was over her body without yet touching it. She looked up at him, her eyes misted by lust she was currently feeling. For a moment, the two simply stared at each other, reading eyes as best as they could.
Afterward, Marcus reached up and gently brushed fiery tendrils away from her shoulder so he could get a clear view of the graceful curve of her neck. His callused fingertips caressed the mark he left on her, and the edges of his lips turned up, obviously pleased at how it looked on her. He was a territorial bastard and he knew it.
Silence still filled the atmosphere when Marcus looked back into Bridgette's eyes before dropping his hand until his fingers became surrounded in silk. He didn't even notice, pushing the blanket away as though it was unnecessary and annoying which, of course, it was.
He had to see her.
When the blankets slid off of her body, Marcus did absolutely nothing but stare at what she had to offer for a long moment. He didn't touch her or speak, but he smelled her arousal for him, and it caused him to harden. Biting back a growl, he reached out and coiled his arm around her waist, bringing the lower half of her body so it connected with his. With a guttural grunt, he thrust inside of her.
Bridgette immediately wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling his body towards her so his sturdy chest came in contact with her silky, erect breasts. Her breathing hitched upon his forcible entrance, and her head tilted back slightly, allowing her conscious to lose itself in the pleasure of him being so deeply inside of her.
She felt fulfilled in every sense of the word. Never had she had such an erotic experience as the one she was experiencing right then.
Marcus didn't even seem winded as he pulled out and pushed inside of her. She was so incredibly tight, wet, everything he needed to inspire him to continue his ministrations on her capable body. He felt her dig her nails into his flesh, but instead of deterring him, it only egged the werewolf on. He continued to push himself deeper into her, and she matched every one of his thrusts with her hips.
It wasn't until he heard a muffled whimper did he realize that she was nearing her peak. He watched with utter fascination as she bit her bottom lip, focusing his eyes on the whole of her face.
It was at that moment that he realized he would never be satiated with anyone else but the woman beneath him, all but begging him not to stop, to keep going.
And he would. There was no doubt.
When her breathing became shallow and she felt herself release all her tension, Bridgette felt herself tighten around the wolf and her eyes rolled back as a long, low moan left her lips. The sight caused Marcus to climax and a dangerous growl erupted from the bowels of his throat as he spilled himself into her.
Bridgette quickly sat up; her whole body drenched in sweat as she felt the remnants of her dream on her body. It was as though she really had made love to the werewolf. Her body involuntarily twitched and she pressed her lips together in order to prevent any telling whimpers from escaping.
It was only a dream. It was nothing more. It couldn't be.
A howl caused her to jump and glance out her window. The sound appeared to be distant, far away, but it gave Bridgette goose bumps nonetheless.
She hoped she would be able to get back to sleep that night.
7
When Bridgette walked into work the next day, she was still angry at her entire situation. After Dr. Cooper went over her test results and handed her a copy, she faxed them to her superiors with a scrawled note the physician wrote that explained everything. A couple of days later, the sent her an email, informing her she could stay in her current position at the company until her body started to “change” (if she changed at all). Then, they would decide where to put her, if they were, in fact, going to keep her with the company.
Bridgette tried not to worry about it, but honestly, she couldn't help it. In circumstances such as these, normally it was B
ridgette who was calming somebody else down, assuring them that everything would be all right. Hell, not even her coworkers gave her that much courtesy. Everybody looked at her as if she had already changed, becoming a werewolf. People looked at her with wide eyes, full of sympathy or disgust. She was already being discriminated against and she was still human! If she wasn't the center of attention, it would have been interesting to study the human psyche. They were always afraid of things they couldn't explain, and Bridgette was definitely something they couldn't explain. Though the amount of Marcus Sterling's venom that currently inhabited her body was a minuscule amount, it seemed to be enough to cause her body to transform…
They just didn't know when.
The Research Department of NDS had spent years and years determining when a normal werewolf bite caused the change in a human. Standard results said it took thirty days due to the strong moon cycle, but they had never studied a bite given by an Alpha male. In werewolf society, Alpha males were supposed to keep their line pure, and that meant mating with a female werewolf. But then again, it wasn't as though he could necessarily control himself around someone he was strongly attracted to. He was too animalistic. And she was his innocent prey.
Bridgette hated Marcus Sterling for putting her through this. Why did it have to be her and not someone else?
Roughly a week after the news broke of her attack, and everyone knew it. Clive probably got overtly-excited at the prospect of studying her like a lab rat and spilled everything, causing everyone to get excited. And scared. And judgmental. She couldn’t even walk in headquarters without hearing whispers about her – thanks to her new hearing.
Bridgette silently strolled across the lobby until she reached the elevators. Once she stepped inside, she pressed the button for the third floor. This was where Bridgette's department was – Field Agents. When she stepped out, five heads snapped towards the elevator's direction, enigmatic expressions written on each and every face.
Well… that was weird. She knew she was now labeled as some kind of freak but were people already afraid of her? She was still the same Bridgette Barker, just with some werewolf venom in her. Not a big deal…really.
"Bridgette," Clive said, standing up from the desk he currently occupied, closest to the elevator. Normally, he would have been at his own office, but for whatever reason, he was sharing a cubicle with a junior agent, helping the kid out or something like that. Except Clive, narcissistic extraordinaire, never assisted junior agents. It was his version of hazing rituals. "I need to discuss something with you. Can we go to an early lunch?" From the corner of his eye, Bridgette noticed his finger twitch and her body immediately tensed. Clive was antsy about something.
Bridgette continued walking to her office, putting on a façade of nonchalance. She passed the rows of cubicles until she made it to her office at the far end of the floor, Clive trailing behind her the entire way. "Clive, it's not even nine o'clock," she chided, trying not to make it obvious how curious she was to his intentions. "Sometimes, early is just too early."
"Wait, um, maybe you shouldn't –"
But all of Clive's warnings were ignored (and completely misunderstood) because Bridgette opened the door to her office, walked in, and then shut it behind her. What the hell was that about, exactly? She had a lot of work she needed to –
Oh. Oh, fuck.
Standing there, in the corner of her office, was none other than the werewolf in question. The very same one that sunk his teeth into her neck and inserted his venom into her neck and had also inhabited a very intimate dream with her a few nights ago. His hazel eyes were burning into hers as if he were glaring at her, but upon further notice, she had a feeling that no malice laid behind that intense gaze. His arms were crossed over his chest and his shoulders were hunched forward, taking away some of his height. To anyone else, Marcus Sterling might have looked intimidating, but to Bridgette…
Well, she didn't know what he to think of him but she certainly wasn't afraid of him.
"What, may I ask, are you doing here?" she demanded of him, walking over to her desk and setting her briefcase down. She was still reeling from exhaustion from her dream, but had been afraid to back to sleep in case it happened again.
"I have come to talk to you," Marcus said in his deep, gravelly voice and arched a left thick brow, as though he was asking permission to continue. Of course, the Alpha male would never actually ask verbally. He was an Alpha male for goodness' sake!
"What could you possibly want to talk to me about?" Bridgette asked him, as she slid into her comfy black leather chair and leaned back against it. His big, hulking frame blocked out the accolades she had collected in her eight years of being a service agent from view. She gave him a pointed look. "You bit me. You sunk your feral canines into my skin and injected – without my consent, by the way - your venom in me."
"It's not venom," Marcus denied with a growl, offended at the label these humans had placed on something so natural.
"Is it?" Bridgette questioned. Her brows furrowed as she felt her anger slowly start to increase and she curled her fingers into tight fists. "Do you realize that even though you only put a small amount of whatever you want to call it into me, I'm still going to transform into one of you?"
"One of us?" Marcus asked, balking at her use of diction.
"Yes, one of you," she snapped, standing up so she was on more equal footing with him though he was still a good head taller than she was. "Look." Her voice quieted into its normal tone, but her anger was still there. "I'm not prejudiced against you guys. Don't get me wrong, but you can't just bite me and expect me to be ecstatic over something like this."
Marcus looked at her for a long moment, and though his face was still contorted into a hard look, his eyes softened. He understood and maybe agreed with what she was saying. He couldn't even imagine what she was going through –
"And don't think you can toss me over your shoulder and take me back to your mansion in the woods," Bridgette continued, her eyes looking down at the papers on the surface of her desk. "Just because you've marked me doesn't mean I'm yours or anything like that."
Though Marcus had no interest in claiming her as his own, he felt himself get defensive. There was still that attraction he felt for her, and the fact that she just outright refused him left him feeling unsettled. His eyes narrowed on her neck, but for the life of him, he couldn't find the mark. His mark.
"Where is it?" he asked suddenly, reaching out and placing his large hands on the corners of his desk, leaning towards her with a demanding look in those eyes. "Where is the mark?"
"I covered it up," Bridgette replied, sticking her nose up, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "You couldn't possibly expect me to walk around with that bull’s-eye on my neck that screams I'm practically a werewolf."
"You covered up the mark?" Marcus asked, and his mouth went slack for a moment. She had thrown him off, and she had a feeling Marcus Sterling was not one to be thrown off all that often.
He opened his mouth as though he were ready to yell at her when he clamped it shut and growled. Finally, in a low voice, he said, "You can say and do whatever you want, but that doesn't take away from the fact that you are mine. You won't notice it yet, but you will. With my venom in you, not only will you change into one of us, but no other man will ever satisfy you. You'll crave something only I can provide."
"I thought you didn't want me," Bridgette said through gritted teeth, hoping her face wasn't as red as it was warm.
"I don't," Marcus snapped. "But that doesn't mean you're not mine."
Bridgette was about to respond when Clive snapped the door open. Both Bridgette and Marcus glared at him, and though Clive could be quite brave when he wanted to, he certainly felt intimidated by their stares.
"Should I escort him out, Bridge?" Clive asked, and Marcus's sensitive hearing immediately picked up the tone of familiarity between the two.
“Why can’t we arrest him?” Bridgette asked, throw
ing her icy stare onto Clive. “He was a target, yes?”
“For interrogation purposes,” Clive said with a curt nod of his head. He purposefully avoided any sort of eye contact with Marcus. “But we don’t have hard evidence to actually arrest him. That’s why we wanted…” He let his voice trail off and pushed up his brow, indicating she should know what he was talking about.
And she did. They wanted the two wolves beneath Marcus to rat their Alpha out. Marcus was only a target for questioning, and somehow, it was worth the risk of their lives. Two agents lost their lives.
"I'll go," Marcus said, refraining from adding anything biting to his tone. His eyes went back to Bridgette and she thought they were warning her about something on some level. "But don't forget what I said."
And without another word, Marcus pushed past Clive, making sure to knock shoulders with the leaner man, and walked out the door.
8
It was dinnertime, and Marcus was still wearing a scowl on his rough face. To be honest, he couldn't quite believe he actually walked through the doors of the Nocturnal Defense Society headquarters. Stranger still, no one questioned him or tried to stop him. Hell, no one had even attempted to arrest him, the sole purpose for Bridgette Barker's presence at his home in the first place. Not arrest, apparently. Questioning. Even though they claimed they were there to arrest him. What a joke. It seemed Bridgette hadn’t been in on the plan, either, which was odd since he assumed she excelled at her job. At least, judging by the multiple awards on honors littering the walls of her office. He wasn't sure where he had been going once inside the building, but he could smell her scent throughout the building. She was an agent here, after all. But the strongest place it resided was a certain office on the third floor; naturally, he assumed it belonged to her.
The Somerset Series: A Box Set: Books 2-4 Page 4