“Why don’t you take off your shirt so we can check out the hardware underneath? I doubt you’re sporting a glowing tan.”
A low growl came from Donavon. “Hey, can you not see me and my mate are talking here? And my hardware, as you put it, is fine.”
Marcella grabbed the bottom of his shirt and got as far as his chest before he ripped it back down. Dark bruises and cuts were covering almost every inch. A deep sigh left her lips as she pulled against Donavon’s hand. “Let me bathe you. You shouldn’t be up moving around. Jase, will you do me a favor? In half an hour take the flan out of the fridge?”
He just stood there, looking at her.
“What in the hell is a flan?” Donavon asked, confused.
“Jesus!” Jason said, rolling his eyes. “Fine, half an hour. This guy really needs to get out more. What is flan? Fried chicken tasting different. You’ve got to be kidding me. “
Marcella led Donavon to the restroom, ignoring Jason’s ramblings. “Put the lid down and sit. Then raise your hands for me.”
He complied, smiling. “You didn’t tell me what a flan is.”
Marcella laughed. “It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you. You might not like it so much cold. I prefer mine warm, but we’ll see, I guess. My mother used to make it at least once every two weeks.”
Carefully easing the shirt off of his wide upper body, she couldn’t stop from closing her eyes at the damage they caused. The moment she reached over and turned on the water, Donavon stood, removing his pants and boxers. The thickness of his cock made her knees weak.
“Describe flan to me.”
Lost for words, her attention kept moving down to the length that called to her. “It’s sweet.” She forgot what else she was going to say. Shifting, wetness quickly seeped from her pussy at the friction she felt from her jeans.
“Sweet. Like you? I think I’ll like this surprise.”
Donavon walked over, pulling her body into his arms. “You’re scent is so good. I can smell how much you want me. I think after passing out on you earlier, I owe you.”
Fingers popped the button of her jeans open and eased down her zipper. Marcella shook her head. “We can’t. You’re hurt.”
“Not even close.” His hands pushed her pants and panties down in one swift motion. With his face level with her pussy, she shivered as hot air brushed against her.
“Step out of your pants for me, honey. Let me taste your pussy.”
When she didn’t move, he pulled her leg out and separated her thighs. The first brush of his tongue over her clit brought her hand down hard on the sink. She needed all the support she could get.
“Oh, yes. So incredibly sweet.”
Marcella moaned. “You shouldn’t be doing this. What if it hurts you more?”
“No way. You’re not taking this away from me.”
His hand lifted her leg up at the knee, separating her even further. Pushing her other arm out, she leaned it against the wall. Donavon trailed her wet slit with the tip of his tongue, separating her as he worked his way toward her opening. Marcella bit her lip as he plunged inside. It was almost impossible for her not to scream out.
“Fuck yeah. I could do this all day.” His fingers separated her folds as he sucked her clit into his mouth, only to go straight back to probing his tongue.
She kept her moans as low as she could. Letting go of the sink, she grabbed a fistful of his blond, spiky hair. “Donavon, you want me to come in your mouth, don’t you?”
“Yes. More than anything.”
Moving her hips to the speed she wanted, she gripped his hair tighter until spasms covered her body. He moaned, burying his face deeper into her pussy. The depth his tongue reached almost had her legs collapsing.
Within seconds, he spun her to face the mirror. His powerful body made her look tiny standing in front of him. A finger slid deep into her entrance, and Marcella gasped as she sunk against him.
“You are so beautiful when you’re like this,” Donavon whispered in her ear.
Another finger joined, stretching her. With an upward push, she could feel her eyes growing extremely heavy. She was glad he didn’t make her wait. Spreading her legs apart further, he slid his cock deep. Grabbing his wrist that was rested against the sink, she held on to him tightly. His other hand came around, circling her clit while he began to thrust at a fast pace.
The slapping of their skin echoed off the walls. The water wasn’t even loud enough to cover what they were doing, but Marcella was past the point of caring. Arching her back more, she met him halfway. Tightening clutched at her lower stomach, and she didn’t fight it. The faster her mate pushed, the faster his finger circled. With a loud moan, she felt herself explode.
Lights danced in her vision, and she looked up just in time to see Donavon’s lips part and his face tense. Warm cum shot inside of her powerfully. His eyes opened enough to look at her in the mirror before he was wrapping his arms around her chest.
“Would it sound completely insane if I told you a part of me loves you?”
Marcella felt him withdraw as she thought over his question. In her mind, there was only one response that made any sense. “I’ve always loved you, Donavon. Why do you think I chose you when I first got here?”
A small laugh echoed in the small space. “But you didn’t know me. I was mean to you.”
Marcella nodded. “Yes, you were. But I saw past that. Plus, I feel like I’ve know you for centuries, my knight.”
Donavon gasped and crashed into the wall behind her. Startled, she spun around. His eyes were wide while he looked up at her.
“What’s wrong?” She rushed to his side.
“What did you say?”
“My knight. Knight in shining armor, you know?” Exactly the response she was hoping for. He did remember more than he’d admit. Now, if she continued this, maybe they’d be out of here faster than she imagined.
“Come, let us take a shower.” Marcella held her hand out to him, and he moved to his knees to stand. She let out a loud laugh. “See, I told you that you would bow to me before it was over with.” Donavon’s expression went from confused to horrified.
“Are you okay? You’re really pale all of a sudden. Should I get one of the guys?”
“No. No, I’m fine. Just give me a minute.” He slowly rose and stepped into the shower. Marcella climbed in, keeping her face from showing any emotion. Pouring soap in her palm, she lathered his body.
He shifted uneasily beneath her touch. “You shouldn’t be doing this, Marcy. I should be washing you.”
She avoided looking into his eyes. “What do you mean? You want to cater to me like I’m a queen or something?”
Silence.
Fuck, why not crank the heat up a little bit more? Marcella lathered her own hair as she continued to avoid looking at him. “You know, we really need a table. The couch isn’t cutting it for meals. I was thinking with as large as the pack is, we just need to get one that could seat about three hundred. I’ll sit at the end, and we’ll line the wolves down both sides. What do you think?”
Looking up, Donavon’s face was frozen. “Too many? Okay, well maybe one that seats a hundred, then. I can play dress up every day, and you can escort me to my seat in one of my elaborate gowns. What do you say?”
“What?” He shook his head, looking as confused as a child.
“Never mind.” Marcella groaned. She quickly rinsed him and herself off and climbed out. Raising her hand and bringing it down, she was about to materialize some clothes when she remembered she was in damn wolf form. Great.
“Wait! What did you just do?”
“What?”
“Your hand.” Donavon lifted her arm and brought it down. Clearing her throat, she brought his attention back to her face. “Did they knock something loose up there? You’re acting really strange. Maybe we should forget the flan until you’re feeling better.”
Taking in his reactions, she knew they were so close. Donavon would remember soon, and when he did, s
he was praying he took it well. If things got any worse, she was sure she’d snap.
* * * *
The flashes kept Donavon feeling like he was in a constant state of déjà vu. The room kept spinning, and no matter what he did or tried to focus on, the damn visions kept coming. Seeing Marcella’s hand in the air triggered something so profound, he couldn’t believe he expected to see something appear around her body. Shit, he had to be losing his mind. Marcella couldn’t be a queen. Things like that just didn’t happen.
Hearing her words, he shook his head. “No way you’re taking away my flan. I want to taste it.”
Walking to his clothes that were piled on the dresser, he grabbed a pair of boxers and a wife beater. While he focused on getting dressed, he couldn’t ignore the way his muscles stretched tightly. Damn if the doc hadn’t had a field day with that bar. Oh well, he felt better, and that’s all that mattered. The pain he could deal with. The guilt from hurting his mate, he couldn’t.
Pulling out of a pair of black baggy shorts, he slid them on and waited as Marcella adjusted the tank top down over her pink pajama bottoms. When she was properly dressed, he opened the door and followed her to the kitchen. Jase was leaning against the wall with his hands over his wide chest. It didn’t pass his notice how the stranger’s eyes widened at Donavon’s exposed tattoos.
“The flan is ready to serve,” Jase said quietly. He opened the refrigerator and pulled out two plates, handing them to him and Marcella. Donavon couldn’t get over the way the new guy kept looking at Marcella with some strange emotion on his face. Something about Jason was so familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was as if he knew the guy forever and unexplainably hated him.
Slowly, Donavon led Marcella to the couch and they sat. He looked down at the raspberry-covered pie thingy. Well, it smelled good.
Marcy laughed. “Just take a bite. Here.” She grabbed his fork and cut a small piece. Mesmerized by her smile, he almost had missed her bringing the fork up to his lips. “Open, Donavon.” She stretched out the words as if he were a child. Slowly, he did. He hated that he wasn’t sure if he was going to like it.
Truthfully, he’d never cared for desserts. Once, when he was young, the alpha’s son had a birthday party, and he’d actually been invited. The frosting on the cake had been way too sweet, but he ate it all so as not to offend his leader. As the flavor of Marcella’s flan burst over his tongue, he could feel his eyes rolling back in bliss.
“Good, isn’t it?”
Jase burst out laughing from across the room. Donavon was in such a state of heaven, he didn’t care at the moment. He nodded, grabbing the fork and taking over.
“Thank you for my surprise. I love it. Can you make it again, too?”
“Of course. Now, why don’t you eat this while I clean up the kitchen? Here, Jase, you can have mine. I’m not hungry.”
Donavon looked up. “No, he can clean the kitchen. You cooked.”
Jase’s mouth opened and shut. His eyes shot to Marcella, and Donavon felt his blood boil. Something passed between them, but he wasn’t sure what it was. The earlier feeling of them knowing each other returned.
“Really. I don’t mind cleaning. It will give me something to do. I’m kind of bored.”
“Bored?” Shit, he should have thought about that. What did females like to do? He was almost afraid to ask. Finishing off the flan, Donavon stood and took her plate. The thought of eating it crossed his mind, but Jase did serve them. “Here.” He pushed the dessert at the stranger.
“Tell me what you want to do. Anything you want.”
Marcella’s full lips parted, and it took a few seconds before her shoulders shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll just go to bed.”
Sadness. That’s what he’d seen cross her face before she turned and headed into the room, shutting the door behind her. Turning, he looked at Aaron and Jase. Donavon couldn’t even comprehend what was going through Marcella’s head.
The sound of squeaking from the bed frame signified that she was indeed serious. Walking back to the couch, he watched Jase finish off the flan.
“Can one of you please help me out here? What am I doing wrong? She seems so sad all the time.”
Aaron looked at the floor as Jase gave him a smug grin. “New love. Must be nice. I wish a mate’s boredom was the most of my problems. You should consider yourself lucky.”
“What in the hell is that supposed to mean?” Donavon disliked this guy the more he talked. Maybe it was the fact that Jase had a look of resentment on his face. It sure as hell didn’t help out.
“Your mate is sad and missing something. At least you don’t have a voice in your head telling you to eat her.”
“Your wolf wants you to eat your mate?” Donavon couldn’t keep the look of alarm from his face. He could feel his eyes grow big at the statement.
“She’s equivalent to my mate, I guess. But yes, the damn creature is ready to devour her whole. It’s the reason why I had to distance myself. I’d kill her in a heartbeat, and the fucked up thing is I love her more than words can describe. I’d give my life without a thought, yet I’m scared if I so much as taste her again, her death will be on my hands. My…creature wants the ultimate domination over her, her death for my personal pleasure. The voices, they promise” Jase shook his head as if to clear it. “Corrupt cravings. Nice, right?”
“Your wolf has taken you over,” Donavon whispered.
“You could say that. There are times when I hear the thing more than I hear myself.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Donavon felt a piece of his heart go out to the guy. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he were put in the same situation. The thought of not being able to taste Marcella was enough to make him panic. Something about her taste was insanely addicting. Hell, he wanted to go back in there and lick her pussy all over again.
“There is nothing to say. Just forget I ever mentioned it.” Jase stood and walked into the kitchen, placing his plate in the sink. “Where do you want me to crash? I’m kinda tired.”
Donavon shook his head mindlessly. “Sleep on the couch. Aaron stays over at the main house, and I really don’t want you over there. Can I ask you a question, Jase?”
“Go for it.”
“You didn’t lie about us being somehow related. Can you explain?”
The guy shifted and slouched back down against the wall. “I wish I could, but there’s only so much I can say.” Jase got quiet while he closed his eyes and went on. “Imagine a woman, so beautiful and so loved that she had the ability to bring people together with her natural aura. Now, a woman like that would need protection, she’d need—”
“Donavon, come to bed,” Marcella snapped angrily from the doorway. “Enough fairytales for tonight. If you wanted a bedtime story, I could have told you one.”
He looked up at his mate, surprised. Why was she so upset? And why in the hell did he see her whenever Jase was describing the tale of his?
“Later,” Donavon whispered. Standing, he headed to the room while Aaron waved goodbye. Grabbing a blanket from the closet, he handed it to the one guy who’d managed to intrigue the hell out of him.
“You will tell me more. But not tonight. I must comfort my mate.”
Donavon left, not turning around. Marcella was in the bed waiting for him. Dark circles were appearing under her eyes, only concerning him more. Climbing in, she molded her body to his. It wasn’t minutes before he felt her heart slow and her breathing deepen. Closing his eyes, he tried his hardest to sleep, but all he could think about was the story and all the things Marcy had said earlier. He wondered if they were somehow connected. No, he knew they were.
Chapter 10
Dominic stood in the tower overlooking the two angels hiding in the brush like fucking cowards. They couldn’t see him past the projection that had kicked in after the first was triggered. At the sight of Nemmy, he felt something odd, a familiarity that he didn’t like. But it was the second one that did him
in. Caspius made his blood boil, and he had no idea why.
This wasn’t the first time Dominic had heard of these two. He’d even seen them before, but the nagging pull of knowing them hadn’t been there. Reaching for his connection to Samael, he let his master know he was needed. It wasn’t a second before the dark angel appeared next to him.
“So they found it. I knew it wouldn’t be long.” He looked over at Dominic but didn’t hold eye contact for long.
“Who are they, really? And don’t lie to me. I know they have to do with the past.”
Samael took a ragged breath. “I told you everything I know. Marcella’s dealings with good were more than I was willing to partake in. I did appear on occasions, but the goodness in me didn’t last long. I hold too much evil.
“You and Caspius have quite a past. For a human, you were unbelievably strong. Caspius’s envy was his only major sin. For reasons unknown, he took an instant dislike to you. When Nemmy would come for Marcella, you two got in a few fights, but nothing major. Neither Nemmy nor Marcella would ever allow things to progress.
“This went on for a while. Hell, years. After a while, Nemmy just started coming alone. I think he and Caspius stopped hanging around for a while and just within the last few months, teamed back up.”
“Wait.” Dominic cut him off, confused. “Marcella was hundreds of years old. If I was human in my past life, how long did I actually know her? It couldn’t have been too long, given I was young when I died.”
Samael looked back at the angels. “The paranormal world was but a spec then. Jason was with her the longest. Two hundred years. He was her first creation. You, Donavon, and Ambrose maybe shared a good seven years with her before your deaths. There were times she teased the idea of turning you all over, and she probably would have if she would have known how things were going to end.”
Dominic was speechless. “That’s it? Seven fucking years? What did she do in all the time before then, before Jason? Who was she with?”
“No one. Before Jason or any of you came along, she was…untouched, pure.”
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