Fated Curse

by Skye Malone

  She tensed, flinching back. “Don’t—”

  “Does it hurt?”

  Her head shook.

  He nodded in response. “Then let me try?”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, either.”

  He was silent for a moment. “Let me try. Please.”

  “Why?” She pulled back, finding her sweater and hugging it to her chest.

  “Because you’re not a monster.”

  Protests rose up in her, sobs that surely she was becoming one; couldn’t he see that? But even as she tensed all over, he reached out, gently brushing a fingertip along one of the jagged vines while she held her breath.

  A shiver went through her to feel him touching her.

  But nothing else happened.

  A smile touched his face. “See? It’s not hurting me, either.”

  Quiet assurance filled his voice while his expression urged her to believe him. And she wanted to. God, she wanted to.

  His fingertips drifted up her arm, sending tingles through her that had everything to do with magic and nothing to do with the darkness inside. “You’re beautiful.” His hand traced along her bra strap. “Do you still want this?”

  Her heart ached. “I think so. Do you?”

  A smile crossed his face. Gently, his hand slipped behind her, unclasping her bra. The silken fabric fell away, revealing interwoven vines tangled thick across her right breast.

  His hand took her breast as if the marks weren’t even there, and she looked up at him in alarm.

  “I’m okay,” he assured her. “Are you?”

  Desire and need tangled in her belly, steadily draining her surge of adrenaline. She managed a nod. “Yeah.”

  The corner of his lips rose, calm certainty in his gaze while he massaged her soft flesh, pinching and playing at her hardened nipple, and a pleased grin crossed his face when she gasped beneath his ministrations. Still watching her, he moved his hands down her body, featherlight, and her breath caught, her breasts tingling and her core turning molten. How could he be doing this to her when he was barely even touching her?

  Carefully, he drew her winter pants away. Relief flickered through her to find her legs still clear of the jet-black markings.

  His own clothes joined hers on the floor in only a moment, and despite all her fear, despite all the worry, hot desire welled up to wash it all aside. Firelight played across his powerful body, dancing shadows and vibrant glow across sheer muscle and tattooed skin. As she traced her gaze all the way down to his large cock, her lips parted, her body throbbing.

  “You want this?” he asked, teasing threading through his voice.

  Her eyes flicked up to his, challenge rising in her, and his smile grew wider. Taking his shoulder, she pulled him to her again, her hips rising toward him.

  A hungry noise left him, sending an irrational thrill through her. She should be scared of him—hell, he should be scared of her—yet that primal sound excited some deep part of her like nothing she’d heard. He lowered himself down, penetrating her even as his lips claimed hers. Slowly, he pulled away and then entered her again, as if trying to draw out every second of this, building the pleasure between them.

  She closed her eyes with a groan of need, and his lips caught it. His tongue tangled with hers, their breath mingling as he rocked in and out of her. But it wasn’t enough. Slow left her mind still racing. Still thinking, and right now, that only caused pain.

  Shifting around on the bed, she pushed him back and then rose with him when he pulled away. “Harder,” she whispered.

  His apparent confusion vanished into anticipation and dark desire as she straddled him, taking his cock deep inside her and rocking against him. A deep sound left him, like a growl mixed with a groan, and his hands gripped her ass hard, moving her on him.

  The firelight caught on her tattoos, and she tensed.

  His hand came up, his fingers taking her cheek and drawing her face toward him. Without a word, he captured her mouth in a deep kiss, his tongue tangling with her own and his motions so intent, it was like he was trying to draw every bit of her focus to him, to this.

  Gratitude swelled in her even as her body thrummed to feel his cock hitting her so deep. Here in this moment, she was still her, as he said. She was just Lindy, not a monster, and everywhere he touched seemed to come alive. Even as his lips broke from hers to trace a scorching line down her throat, she was safe. When his grip returned to her ass, grinding her against him, she was secure. Sweat clung to her impossibly marked skin, hot and cold by turns in the firelight and chilled air, but none of it could take this moment.

  Her hands held his lips to hers as she rode him, wishing she could pour every ounce of her gratitude from her body into his. She was herself now, not a monster or a curse or any mistakes she’d once made. The darkness was missing, and only pure ecstasy remained, and it was because of him, only him, magically and impossibly driving it all away.

  White-hot pleasure built inside her, drawing her focus down to the sensations he wrought in her body. Harder and harder, she drove herself onto his cock, gripping him tightly, and desperate sounds of desire and need escaped him. Her heart raced, thrilled by the cries, and when his hand clenched down on her ass, the jolt of pleasure that shot through her seemed to fly straight into her core.

  The orgasm erupted in a surge of white light racing through every limb. She cried out, everything in the world vanishing for a beautiful moment where there was only pleasure, only him, and even as he thrust into her harder, pounding his own orgasm out into her sensitized flesh, she could only ride the wave of ecstasy, safe and secure in his arms.

  His motions slowed, and his hands tightened on her, holding her tired body to his. Before she could even look around, he drew her to him, kissing her deeply and then gently lowering her back to the bed. The firelight barely had a chance to touch her before he was pulling the blankets over them again, wrapping them in thick fabric and hiding every impossible mark on her body away.

  Warmth surrounded her as he pulled her close, and she nestled against his side. “You’re still you,” he whispered like a blessing.

  She closed her eyes, tears stinging from gratitude that overwhelmed distant pain. The words were a kindness, and more than that, they felt true.

  As long as she was with him.

  16

  Wes

  The world may have been hell, but lying here with Lindy in his arms felt like a slice of heaven all the same.

  One arm crooked behind his head, he lay motionless, relishing the soft sensation of her breast brushing against his chest with each gentle breath. Her comforting scent surrounded him, a delicious mixture of sex and sweat and spice, and sleep tugged at him, trying to draw his eyes closed. At his side, the fire was burning down to embers, letting the winter chill seep back into the room, but beneath the pile of blankets, with her at his side, warmth filled him like the flames had never died.

  On some level, he knew this was still dangerous. The wolf inside him could never be trusted. But also, he knew he hadn’t bitten her, hadn’t done more than give her every ounce of pleasure he could, and the mere thought of harming her made even the wolf inside him pace and whine.

  He wasn’t safe and never would be, but in this moment, he was determined to be as close to it as he could come.

  For her. For now. Because this was wonderful.

  She stirred next to him, her fingers trailing across his chest. A smile crossed his face. It tickled, ever so slightly, but the delicate feeling of her there was soothing too.

  Her touch paused when she reached one of his scars.

  He waited, knowing what she’d probably ask.

  “Did I hurt you?” she whispered.

  He blinked. That wasn’t what he expected. “Not at all.”

  A breath left her as if she was relieved.

  “What about you?” he asked gently.

  She shook her head against his chest and chuckled. “No.”

  In the fireplace, a burnt log
cracked, falling in darkening embers to the ashes below. Carefully, he stretched over, grabbing another from the pile nearby and tossing it onto the dying flames, trying not to disturb her with the movement.

  She sighed. “Wes?”

  “Yeah?”

  “May I ask, um…”

  He glanced down at her. “What?”

  “Are these from the wolf?” Her fingers traced along the mottled path of a scar. “The one who… you know.”

  He weighed how to answer, but there was only really the truth. “Mostly.”

  She glanced up toward him.

  “Exorcism got a bit rough. When my parents…” He shrugged rather than get into the ugly details of how they’d thought it took blood and pain to reclaim his soul from being “possessed.” How they hadn’t stopped until he ran, weak and barely conscious, and escaped into the woods, where he survived for a blur of days before one of the Thorsen clan smelled the blood and found him.

  “My God,” she whispered.

  “Not the best parents.” He kept his tone light, but she looked up toward him again all the same.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  He shook his head. “Over a long time ago.”

  Seeming thoughtful, she lay her head back down against him. “And the, um, tattoos?”

  He chuckled. “Something better to look at.”

  Her fingers strayed over his chest again. “They’re beautiful.” She hesitated. “Not to make you uncomfortable. If calling them that does, I mean. Is ‘handsome’ better? I just—”

  He grinned at her sudden rush of anxious words. “Thank you.”

  She was silent for a long moment. “You’re going to change back again, aren’t you? When we leave here, I mean.”

  He hesitated. “Does it bother you?”

  Discomfort spread through him when she didn’t answer. He’d seen the fear in her eyes yesterday. The way she’d watched him as if waiting for the wolf to attack.

  “I just…” She hesitated. “It’s awfully quiet.”

  He paused, a strangely warm-but-confused feeling rising in his chest. That was her concern? “I can understand you when I’m in that form, if that helps?”

  Thoughtfully, she nodded. “A bit, yeah.”

  A breath left her, and she looked back toward the windows. He followed her gaze. The snow was piled high against the windows, and in the darkness, he couldn’t tell if any more was falling. He only hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to manage in the morning.

  “Do you, um…” she started. “Do you know if we’re going the right way?”

  He glanced back down at her. “We are.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “I’ve got a pretty good sense of direction, especially as… you know.”

  “A wolf.”

  “Yeah.”

  She nodded like maybe she was relieved and then nestled her cheek into his chest. In the fireplace, a log cracked and sent sparks drifting up with the renewed flames.

  A sigh left her. “I don’t want move.”

  Inside his mind, the wolf rumbled contentedly to itself. He pushed the feeling aside, though warmth still blossomed in his chest. “You don’t have to. I can take first watch.”

  She hesitated. “That’s okay, I can—”

  “Really.”

  She drew a breath that turned almost immediately into a yawn. “You sure?”

  He smiled. “Yeah.”

  Kissing her lightly, he shifted position to let her lie back on the pillows while he sat on the edge of their makeshift bed. The chilled air stole the residual warmth of the blankets from his skin while he retrieved his pants and then glanced around for his sweater.

  A fingertip slid down his spine. He looked over his shoulder to find Lindy watching him, her cheek propped on her palm.

  “What?” he asked.

  Her light touch traced a sinuous path along his skin. “Just enjoying the view.”

  The wolf inside him made a hungry sound. “You do much more of that, I’m not going to leave.”

  She regarded him with feigned innocence. “Remind me how that’s a bad thing?”

  His cock hardened all over again at the heat in her eyes and the wicked edge to her smile. Gods, he loved her confidence, and this teasing side of her too. And when she’d asked him to fuck her harder… when she’d clutched him so tightly, her nails digging into his skin…

  He turned, coming back toward her. “I can’t think of a single reason.”

  They scarcely left the bed all night.

  “If you need anything,” he said as she pulled on her boots the next morning. “I can understand every word, okay?”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him, nervousness tightening her face. But she nodded.

  He echoed the motion, hesitating a moment longer while reluctance to lose the ability to speak to her gnawed at him. Among the pack, body language cues and their bond was sufficient communication. But with her, the silence was deafening, and she wasn’t the only one bothered by it.

  But there was nothing for it. They were burning daylight.

  Drawing in a sharp breath, he shifted into his wolf form and then padded over to her. Trepidation flickered over her face, but still she reached out, brushing a hand along his fur.

  The wolf tried to rumble with pleasure, and he shoved it down hard. No need to scare her.

  She looked worried enough.

  Apprehension tangled inside his gut as he watched her rise and walk toward the door. Beneath the ghostly shadows on her face—visible only in his wolf form—she looked paler than yesterday. Less steady too, and guilt colored the observation. They’d spent hours together in bed, bringing her to orgasm over and over. But she’d barely slept as a result, and she hadn’t eaten anything without throwing it up in over a day.

  She must be starving.

  Glancing around briefly, he headed for his bag, nudging it open with his nose and paws. Chances were, she’d decline the food, but he still had to try. Surely, Lindy had to eat or she’d collapse.

  He picked up a can carefully and brought it over to her.

  She grimaced at the sight, like her stomach wanted to heave just at the can’s proximity.

  A sigh left him. He returned the food to where he found it and picked the bag up in his teeth. Together, they made their way through the blockade of snow at the front door out into the cold morning. A renewed layer of white obscured everything, swallowing their footprints from the day before. Without pause, he turned north and Lindy followed him, trekking down the slope to the snow-covered road.

  But as the minutes turned to hours, her movements grew ever more unsteady, her footsteps stumbling in the snow. She waved him away whenever he came near, but that didn’t stop worry from building inside him like a howl.

  This couldn’t go on.

  Inside his mind, he paced. He had to help her, but the only thing that presented itself was bound to terrify her—or make her hate him forever. But he’d seen the look on her face yesterday when she held that rabbit in her hands. Ravenous. Chillingly so. Wild too, like a starved animal defending its catch.

  Like someone looking at food.

  It wasn’t logical, if he thought about this from a human perspective, but whatever was happening to her wasn’t exactly human anyway.

  His eyes slid around the terrain. He couldn’t be sure this was a good move—with her, if nothing else. But then, continuing on like this… Hell, that was making it worse too.

  She stumbled a bit, almost as if proving his thoughts accurate. He yipped with worry, and as always, she motioned as if to reassure him, not looking his way.

  Dammit. If small game was what she needed, then by the gods, he’d get it for her.

  Especially if it was that or watch her collapse.

  Intently, he scanned the world of endless white all around them. He’d caught glimpses of small creatures here and there, so surely this wouldn’t take long. With so many humans all undertaking their own personal versions of “anywhere but h
ere,” animals large and small had begun moving into terrain they normally would have avoided. And out where there was nothing but Lindy and him…

  A rustle in a nearby bush caught his ear, and he was moving before the rabbit completed its hop. Tearing past the branches, he sank his teeth into the small creature’s fur, thinking a quick apology and a thanks to the animal as he bit down.

  Lindy stared at him as he emerged, but in only a moment, the alarm in her eyes turned to a terrified, crazed sort of hunger when she saw what he held. Her body twitched, and her face did too, and she turned away, as if trying and failing to make herself retreat.

  Pacing toward her carefully, he never took his eyes from her as he laid the creature down at the tip of her snowshoes and nudged it closer with his nose.

  Lindy’s whole body quaked, and she locked her eyes on him like she was fighting not to look anywhere else. Her gloved hands twitched, her mouth moving like she was struggling not to gasp or scream.

  A soft whine left him. Gods, what he wouldn’t give to be able to tell her this was all right—as much as it could be, anyway. She wasn’t a monster. Wasn’t anything but a beautiful woman who needed to eat or she’d die.

  Her head shook, a tight and quick motion. Her mouth tightened like she was holding in a gasp. But then her gaze sank down to the rabbit, and a tiny whimper left her, the battle on her face turning to agony.

  With lightning speed, she dropped to a crouch, her hands snagging the creature and bringing it to her mouth before he’d even managed to blink. Tearing into the rabbit with her teeth, she gulped the meat and blood and fur down like she was starving.

  Conflicted pain twisted inside his chest at the sight. The wolf side of him was brimming with satisfaction over feeding his mate, while the man was at a loss for anything else to do. She really might hate him for this. Probably would, honestly. But she had to eat, and if this was what it took to keep her going, then it’s what had to happen.

  He’d do whatever it took to keep her alive.

  After only a moment, though, her frantic motions slowed. Blood coated her gloves and the lower half of her face alike, but her flesh had more color than even a few minutes before.