“I didn’t say that he did. But he wasn’t the one it happened to. You were. So all I care about is what you have to say.”
He stabbed his fingers into his hair again, his frustration so raw and real, she could feel it pressing against her skin. “What I did... Christ, Skye. I was such a little idiot.” With a grim set to his jaw, he looked around the room, and slowly shook his head. “I never came back here, except to get my things.”
Softly, she said, “Torrance told me about your parents. What they did—it was wrong. They should have been there for you.”
A low, bitter sound tore from his chest, and he brought his dark gaze back to hers. But he didn’t say anything.
“Elliot, talk to me. Please.”
“The reason I went to Simmons was because of this girl. I’d met her at a concert, and I...I wanted to ask her out. But she was human.” He paused, flexing his hands at his sides, and his breath left his lungs in a jagged, shuddering burst. “It’s ironic when you think about it,” he rasped. “I mean, my parents thought it was my lack of control that landed me in such a shitty mess, when it was control that I had hoped Simmons could teach me.” A harsh laugh fell from his lips, and they twisted just a little on one side. “Though I know my old man meant control over everything. In his eyes, it was wrong to want her. To want something that wasn’t meant for me.”
“He sounds like a complete asshole.”
“You have no idea.” His voice turned even rougher, like he’d swallowed something gritty. “So after I ended up with the Runners, Simmons...he took the girl. Her name was Marly.”
“Oh, no,” she whispered, understanding so much more now. About how he thought. About the mountain of guilt he’d carried with him all these years.
“Yeah. The son of a bitch killed her, in the worst way you can imagine, Skye. And it’s on me. All of it. That’s why I don’t deserve you.”
“No!” she snapped, surging to her feet as she crossed the floor to him. “That’s not true, Elliot. Don’t you see? We both made mistakes by putting our trust in the wrong people. But that’s what they were. Mistakes.”
“It’s not the same,” he argued, scowling down at her. “You have no goddamn blame in what happened to your sister.”
“I do. I have just as much as you,” she said desperately, clutching on to his powerful arms. “But it doesn’t mean we’re bad people. We were both victims of manipulation, but only because we were hoping for something better in our lives. You would never have intentionally harmed that girl in the cave or put Marly in danger, just like I would have never led that dealer to our apartment if I’d known what he would do. But it happened to us, and now we have to move on. We can either let it destroy the best thing we’ve ever found, or we can tell it to go to hell and make the future ours. We can make it whatever we want it to be.”
He sucked in a sharp, stunned breath, and she reached up, cupping the sides of his handsome face in her trembling hands. “And I know what I want,” she told him, hoping he could see just how much she meant each husky word. “I want you. Every beautiful, protective, perfect-for-me part of you. The rest is just details that don’t really matter, as long as I have you in my life.”
His eyes went glassy with tears; his expression one of complete awe, as if he couldn’t believe this was happening. “Are you... Are you serious, Skye?”
“Why else do you think I’d come here and do this?” she whispered, giving him a watery smile. “I’m begging you to be with me. To share your life with me.”
“I love you,” he suddenly growled, yanking her into his arms and crushing his mouth against hers. “I love you so goddamn much. And I should have told you before. But I just... I love you.”
Oh... Oh, God. That was the sweetest freaking thing she’d ever heard. “I love you, too,” she cried against his lips, unable to hold the torrent of tears inside a second longer.
His own tears were falling as he drew his head back, his hands buried in her hair. “You know, the whole begging thing—all you did was beat me to it.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, unable to get enough of the way he was looking at her, as if she were the most precious, most meaningful thing in his entire world.
“I mean that as shit as I felt about you getting stuck with me,” he admitted, pressing his forehead against hers, “I wasn’t going to let you go without one hell of a fight.”
“But you came up here and...stayed.” Away from me. Without me.
“Just to get my thoughts straight,” he said in a low voice that was hoarse with emotion. “Christ, Skye. I’ve been racking my brain for the right arguments to make, so that when I headed back down to the Alley tonight, you wouldn’t have any choice but to realize that staying with me was, is, your only option.” Cupping her wet face in his hands, he rubbed his nose against hers, then looked her right in the eye, and said, “Unless, of course, you wanted to leave me as a poor, pitiful wreck of a man who would spend every damn day of his life missing the hell out of you. Aching for you. Craving you.”
“You know,” she murmured with a warm smile, “for a guy who everyone says is usually so quiet, you have a hell of a way with words.”
“Only ’cause it’s you,” he groaned, brushing his lips across hers, while his big hands moved down her back, pressing her in tight against him. “Only ’cause this matters. More than anything.”
With her hands braced against his powerful biceps, she arched back a little, until she could search his dark, molten gaze. “And you...you were really going to fight for me? To...beg for me?”
“Damn straight I was. And if it meant getting down on my knees, then I’d have stayed on them till they bled.”
She gasped in response, completely undone by his words, and then his mouth was claiming hers—truly claiming it—and they were lost in a kiss so wild and hot and passionate, Skye didn’t know how she managed to stay in one piece. One moment they were in the middle of the room, and in the next, he had her pushed up against the nearest wall, her legs around his waist and his hands under her ass as he ground his rigid erection against that most sensitive, needy part of her.
“I know I can be difficult,” he muttered against her wet, sensitive lips, feeding the husky words into her mouth. “That I can be too quiet at times, and I’m no partier. And I’m sorry as hell that I didn’t tell you everything when I had the chance. That you had to learn the way that you did. But I will worship you, Skye. Every single day, I will do whatever it takes to make sure you know how important you are to me.”
“Shh,” she whispered, pushing her hands into his hair. “Just shut up and take me to bed now, Elliot. Or the floor. Even this wall. Hell, I don’t care. Just get inside me!”
He was kissing her again before the last syllable left her lips, and they were both smiling as they tore at each other’s clothes, desperate to get to hot, slick skin. Then they fell onto the double bed together in a tangle of limbs and greedy, clutching hands, breathless with excitement, and she knew without any doubt that she’d never wanted anything more in her entire life than this. Than her man.
With his heavy-lidded gaze deep and dark and burning with emotion, he slammed every inch of himself inside her, and she realized that this time would be different. That he was no longer holding back on her. Their walls had been fully destroyed, and they were finally free to lose themselves in each other, and the breathtaking power of their connection.
It was a raw and rough and brutally aggressive joining, but so damn real, their fingers gripping hard enough to bruise, skin so damp with sweat they were sliding against each other, his hips slamming into her so hard it was crashing the bed into the wall in a loud, banging rhythm. And this time, when she came, he crashed over that blinding, shattering edge with her, their hearts pounding against the other, and she swore she could taste his happiness in the rough, sexy-as-hell growl that he fed into her mouth. Hoped like crazy that he could taste hers, too.
Hours later, after they’d made love so many times she�
�d lost count, and they were still lying there in the tangled bedding, wrapped completely around each other, he put his mouth against her ear, and said, “You’re gonna marry me, Skye.”
She’d decided somewhere around her fifth or sixth orgasm that her new motto went something like: Stupid girls might end up dead—but only a crazy woman would ever say no to Elliot Connors. So with a wide smile on her lips, she squeezed her arms and legs around him, and murmured, “Of course I am.”
“You promise?” he rasped, and she could see the excitement gleaming in his beautiful brown eyes as he drew his head back and took in the I’m-so-freaking-happy, gonna-love-this-man-till-I-die look that was on her face.
“I know some people might think this is crazy, but I don’t care. We’ve crammed a freaking year into a matter of days, and I trust how I feel, Elliot. I trust it in a way I’ve never trusted anything in my entire life.” She leaned forward and nipped his sexy lower lip with her teeth, loving the way he growled and pulled her closer. “So, yeah, I will marry you and keep you forever.”
“Damn straight you will,” he groaned against her mouth, kissing her like a man who had finally found his happiness. And when the moon had risen high into the night sky, he released his fangs, and made what he’d told her was the most important bite of his life.
He made her his, for that moment...and for all the days and nights and moments to follow.
And though she didn’t have his Lycan genes that would enable her to do the same, Skye didn’t give a damn. No way in hell was she going to let that stop her. Wrapping her arms around her man, she told him again how much he meant to her, and claimed him back just as thoroughly...and powerfully...and everlastingly...
With her love.
Epilogue
Christmas day
Christmas in Bloodrunner Alley was a beautiful thing. Elliot and Skye had awakened just after seven to the sight of snow falling past the bedroom windows, and the sound of children’s laughter ringing out through the glade, as the little ones took everything from their new sleds to soccer balls out into the snow to play.
With a huge smile on his face, he’d carried his mate out to the living room, laid her down under the tree they’d put up together, and made love to her until he had to cover her mouth with his own to stifle her screams of pleasure, before burying his primal growl against the side of her throat, his tongue lapping possessively at the bite he’d made there.
The one that marked her as his...forever.
With a gift like that, he didn’t need anything else. And yet, she’d still spoiled him rotten with a beautifully decorated bookshelf that had been a complete surprise. She must have worked on it when he’d been in meetings with Mason and the others—they’d been trying hard to come up with a plan for how they were going to deal with Chiswick—and he couldn’t believe she’d managed to make something so awesome in such a short amount of time. It was freaking kick-ass and he loved it.
The shelves were painted a dark, midnight blue, with moons and stars, and on both sides there were handwritten quotes from the Chilean poet Pablo Neruda. Poignant passages about the power of moonlight, as well as love, commitment and passion.
It was by far the most amazing, meaningful gift anyone had ever given him, and Elliot knew the cell phone and designer bag he’d gotten her didn’t come anywhere close, but she’d still loved them.
At noon, they’d done a quick gift exchange with everyone over at Jeremy and Jillian’s, and there had definitely been a theme to the presents he’d been given. Goddamn peanuts! He’d unwrapped everything from peanut butter and brittle to peanut-decorated boxers. And Skye, the little imp, had laughed her head off the entire time.
Now it was close to dinnertime, and they were heading over to Mason and Torry’s for Christmas ham and all the trimmings. He knew his friends were going to take one look at the huge, lovesick smile on his face and give him a hard time. But he didn’t care. He’d never had or enjoyed a Christmas like this in his entire life, and the knowledge that they could all be like this... Yeah, that pretty much wrecked him. But in a good way. In the best of ways.
Just as they were about to climb up the first porch step, his phone vibrated in his pocket. He pulled it out, took one look at the name and said, “Skye, it’s a text from Max.”
“Seriously?” she gasped. “What’s it say?”
They hadn’t heard from Max since the night Elliot had told him that Skye was his life-mate, so he could understand her surprise. Hell, he was feeling pretty surprised himself. Starting to read the text, he said, “Damn, he knows Lev and the guys are looking for them. He says...to call them off. That he’s... Holy shit, he says they’re headed back.”
“They’re coming here?” she asked. “To the Alley?”
“Yeah. He says they’ll be here by the end of the week.”
“Yes!” she squealed, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him down for one of the sweetest friggin’ kisses he’d ever had. He could feel her smile against his lips, and he was so damn happy that his girl was happy...and that his partner would finally be where he could keep an eye on him.
Thankfully, there hadn’t been any new abductions, but they knew they were playing a waiting game. If Chiswick wasn’t going after his next victims, it meant he was still focused on Skye and Vivian. It would have driven Elliot insane, if he hadn’t been secure in the knowledge that she was safe in the Alley. So they’d set some basic ground rules. She wouldn’t do anything foolish, like try to sneak out, and would only leave the safety of the glade when Elliot could organize a group to go with them.
For Elliot’s part, he’d promised her he wouldn’t sneak off to confront Chiswick and his men without telling her. James was still tracking the one named Raze, who’d run, and the merc seemed confident that he might get a lead on how to find Chiswick and the women he was holding captive.
Typing in a quick response to Max, Elliot slipped the phone back into his pocket. Then he grabbed his girl’s hand and pulled her up the steps with him, putting all that crazy shit out of his head for the night, determined to keep it from casting a shadow over their first holiday together.
Just as he lifted his free hand and started to knock on the front door, in the center of the festive wreath that hung there, Skye tugged on his other hand to get him to look at her. With a warm, sexy smile on her gorgeous lips, she said, “By the way, I have one more present for you.”
Elliot lifted his brows. “Oh, yeah?”
“Mmm-hmm.” She caught her lower lip in her teeth, then slowly let it go. “But it’s one I can’t give you until we get home tonight, because I’m wearing it.”
He froze midknock, his imagination going wild over what kind of provocative wisps of lingerie she could be wearing under her clothes.
Grinning up at him, she whispered, “Looks like you’re going to have to unwrap me.”
“Yeah,” he breathed, already picturing in his head exactly how he wanted to do it. Tightening his grip on her hand, he said, “Come on. Let’s go home. Now.”
Her head went back as she laughed, the husky sound shredding what was left of his control. “We can’t do that. This is a special meal with your family.” Green eyes shining with humor, she added, “And Katie would probably just track us down anyway.”
“Fine,” he muttered, turning back to the door, since there was a strong chance he would just toss her over his shoulder and start running if he kept looking at her. “We’ll eat, and have coffee, and then we’re getting the fuck home.”
With another soft laugh, she asked, “Where’s your Christmas spirit?”
“The second we’re through our front door,” he growled, “you’re going to be drowning in it.”
“Mmm. Sounds fun.”
“Hell,” he groaned, knowing that he had to kiss her now. So he pulled her into his arms, and he did. Until Mason finally opened the door and let out a rough bark of laughter.
“Damn, Elliot,” the Runner drawled. “You could at least let the poor
girl come up for air.”
He smiled against her mouth, and whispered, “Oops, we just got busted.”
They were both laughing as they went inside and quickly found themselves surrounded by their friends, and their family, in the truest sense of the word.
Beside him, she whispered, “I love that dimple, boy,” and he was surprised to realize he was smiling so wide his face hurt.
He leaned down and whispered something dirty in her ear, loving the way she blushed. And as she started to talk with the people around them, he thought back to all the years he’d felt so alone, even when surrounded by this wonderful crowd. Christ, he didn’t even know how to describe how blessed he felt now. Because Skye wasn’t just a good woman—she was the absolute finest. And she was his.
He loved a girl who was his everything. Who challenged him and supported him, and had taught him how to accept his past and to look forward to his future. She was his lover, his mate, his best friend and his heart. She was all of those things...and more.
As Katie came running over and launched herself at Skye, Elliot couldn’t help but imagine one day holding a little girl of his own in his arms—one who had his woman’s beautiful hair and eyes and breathtaking smile. Her heart of pure gold...and more courage than any Lycan he’d ever known.
He knew, without any doubt, that it would be the best damn day of his life.
And he couldn’t wait for it to get there.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from OTHERWORLD PROTECTOR by Jane Godman.
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