by Lizzy Ford
“So … if we aren’t going to fuck, what do we do?” I ask and hug him harder.
“Movies?”
I laugh. “Sounds good.”
He doesn’t release me. We stand in comfortable, if charged, silence, holding one another. When every last ounce of tension and worry has faded from my body, he takes my hand and leads me to the living area.
We watch movies until I fall asleep. I wake up cradled against Ben’s chest with one of his arms keeping me tight to his body and the other bicep beneath my neck as a pillow. Tracing my fingers through the sparse curls on his chest, I’m in no hurry to open my eyes, not when I’m safely tucked in the arms of the alpha. He’s wearing sweatpants and is bare chested. I nuzzle the warm skin of his neck and breathe in his scent, more fulfilled than I’ve ever been, without fucking him. It’s hard for me to fathom how I can be so content lying in bed with him.
Right here, right now, is where I belong. The sense is strong, as if Ben’s the home I never knew I needed. It’s also real, because there’s no magic this time. If not for the curse, I could stay with him forever.
Whenever I think things are going well, something terribly wrong happens, and I can’t help returning to one of Erish’s stupid claims. It’s hard for me to determine when the ghost is telling the truth and when he’s lying, but his statement about either Ben killing me or me killing him feels very … true. Especially if what I’ve come to suspect about Ben is true – that my father would have only entrusted my life to the one person who was not only destined to become my mate, but masterminding my trials.
After meeting Ben, I’d trust my life to him, too. He’ll always serve the greater good, but he’ll also never hurt me unless he absolutely must.
“Are you sure you’re in no danger from the curse?” I ask, unease fluttering through me.
“Positive.” Ben releases me to cup my cheek and shift my face to see his.
I open my eyes. His searing look makes me want to beg him to reconsider his moratorium on sex. One night – with or without sex – and I’m hooked on him. No questions asked.
The night passed too quickly to be a full nine hours, a mix of lust burning hot enough to sear my heart and peaceful slumber. I’m not sure how I slept when I can’t recall ever being this turned on. I soaked one pair of underwear then simply gave up wearing any, aware I’d drench the next pair as well. We’ve been making out off and on, but it’s not enough. I don’t think anything will ever be enough with Ben.
His eyes go to my lips, and he traces them lightly with the pad of his thumb.
“I don’t ever want this to end,” I whisper. I take his thumb into my mouth, swirl my tongue around it then bite him gently.
Desire flares to life in his eyes once more. “It doesn’t have to.”
“Assuming I’m alive in two days,” I retort.
“And if you are?”
“I’m not planning that far ahead,” I say firmly.
“You’re afraid.”
I swear werewolves can read minds. “Terrified.”
He studies my features with the same intensity he possessed exploring my body during one of our make out sessions and traces a fingertip around my face. He’s not reassuring me or making any effort to dispel my fear. It shouldn’t bother me, because he’s the quiet kind of guy anyway, but it does, because ... well, I want more than two days with him. Thus far, he’s the only person who has the insight and foresight into what’s happening. I sense our potential – but I want to experience it as well.
“Then again, if I do live, I might have to sleep with the rest of your brothers, until I figure out which one of you I want,” I tease.
Ben’s eyes lift to mine and he scrutinizes me hard. I sense I’ve surprised him for once and start to smile.
He pushes me onto my back and settles on top of me, face inches from mine and hard cock pressed to my pussy through our clothing. His weight is divided between the hips settled between my thighs and the forearms on either side of my face.
I can feel the tautness of his frame, and his gaze is penetrating.
My breath catches. He’s even more beautiful angry than he is normally. I ignore the soft instinct whispering I’ve poked him hard enough to get a response and now’s the time to play submissive. I didn’t think it was possible to ruffle the always-in-control alpha. Now that I have, over something as innocent as a flippant joke, I’m not sure whether to heed the flutter of fear or the fact seeing his raw emotion is an incredible turn on.
“For once, I manage to provoke the alpha,” I whisper with a wide smile.
“Everyone else knows the danger in provoking me,” he growls.
I laugh and take his cheeks in my hands, exhilarated by his hard body and the intensity of his gaze – and knowing why he’s pissed. “You forget, Ben. I know the truth. You can’t hurt me,” I tell him and place a chaste kiss on his nose. I wait for his reaction and confirmation of what I already know to be true.
He’s glaring down at me, but I’m not about to back down, because he’s just confirmed everything I’ve suspected about him.
“That’s why this feels perfect, isn’t it?” I ask. “I’m your mate.”
Very slowly, breaking eye contact at the last possible second, he lowers his head to mine and nudges my chin aside. His hot breath is on my neck, and he nuzzles me, breathing in my scent deeply. The effect is immediate. His thick frame starts to relax.
“Yeah,” he whispers.
“How the hell did you watch me fuck three other guys without going crazy? It’d be bad enough for a normal person but for a werewolf?” I tease more gently this time. Wrapping my legs around his narrow hips and arms around his neck, I hug him to me, frustrated we can’t be skin to skin yet.
“I had no choice. This, us, has to be your choice. It was difficult to watch, but I knew where you belonged and hoped that you’d realize it, too, once we were together.”
I smile, touched by the truth and impressed by just how much self-control and discipline he must possess to stand back and help three other lovers – one of which was his own brother – fuck his mate.
There is magic in what I feel for Ben, but it’s natural magic, the draw of two people meant to be together.
“I didn’t even know you existed,” I murmur. “This is either really romantic or kind of creepy. I’m not sure which.”
He laughs softly, and the rest of the tension melts from his frame. His head stays beside mine, and he’s breathing deeply, as if reveling in the moment. “I think of it as romantic,” he admits. “A woman afflicted by a two thousand year old curse and the man who spends a hundred years trying to find a way to free her from it.”
I burst into laughter. “It sounds like one of your movies! I didn’t think of you as a hopeless romantic.”
“I prefer to be considered a hopeful romantic.”
His words sink in, and my laughter fades. I become misty eyed, touched on a level I’m not expecting the man of few words to be able to reach. Sorrow stirs in my breast.
“How does our movie end?” I whisper.
“I don’t know yet.”
“Ben …” I stop, uncertain how to voice the emotions broiling inside me. I want to tell him being together is a mistake, that we should go back to keeping our distance, so no one gets hurt.
“No,” he says and lifts his head and gazes down at me. His anger is gone, replaced by warmth of a different variety. “This … we are meant to be. Whether it’s for three days or forever. Do you understand?”
I nod. He made a choice yesterday, and so did I. He has no regrets. I’m not going to let fear get in the way of one of the only good things to come from this curse.
“I know you want to fuck me,” I murmur. “Why won’t you? Whether it’s today or after the trials, I’m going to say yes.” I hold my breath and wait for him to tell me he’s preparing for me to die and doesn’t want to get too attached.
“The mating bond can’t take hold until the trials are over,” he says. �
�I want you to have time to think about it. You’ll have a second chance to say no, if you want it.” By the confidence on his features, he knows I won’t.
I almost say what’s on my mind, namely, that the inability to become officially mated is how he’ll be able to kill me, if he has to. If nothing else, I’m relieved to know if I die, he won’t be alone the rest of his life, like Nathan will. It makes this easier on my emotions. If I survive, I’ll have the most amazing man in the world waiting for me on the other side of the trials. If I die, he won’t suffer alone too long.
I force a smile. “So, if I can get away with everything that no one else can around you, does that make me the alpha-est alpha?” I joke.
He snorts. “No.”
“I think it does. In fact,” I grunt and push at his chest. He gives after a pause, and I finish pushing him onto his back before straddling him. “I think that makes me your boss,” I finish and pin his hands above his head.
“Boss,” he repeats, amusement in his gaze.
“Yep. And right now, your job is to do exactly what I say.”
“As long as it involves you touching me, I can deal with you being the boss,” he says with a half smile.
“Look at that,” I say, feigning surprise. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m the alpha-est alpha. No, wait, super alpha!”
“Does super alpha want me to tell her what I plan to do with her sweet little pussy when this is over?”
God, his sexy talk makes me hot. My jaw goes slack, and my whole body is thrown into a fever by the question and his expression. “Super alpha says yes,” I respond and gaze down into his eyes. “And you better be specific!”
“I’ll start by sucking your clit …”
For the next half an hour, I can hardly breathe. For someone who doesn’t say much, he manages to teach me a thing or two about sex, just with words.
Chapter Nine
With Ben, it’s so easy for me to forget reality, to lose myself in his scent and heat, to allow his muscular body to become my world. Part of it is the desperation in knowing that, once today is over, I may never have this chance with him again. But most of it is simply … him. His subtle humor gets me every time, and his possessive hands and hot mouth can send me into fits of desire so intense, it’s agony. Whenever I grow afraid or start to cry about the future, his alpha side softens, and he kisses away tears and whispers his plans for my pussy and body until I’m once more distracted from my fate and burning with need.
Throughout the day, I beg him more than once to fuck me or finger me or anything.
He won’t, but he smiles, because he knows he’s got me. I do, too, and the more time we spend together, the less it scares me to acknowledge I finally belong somewhere and with someone.
We watch movies, walk in the woods, and end up in his bed, hugging one another.
As I doze later on during the day, I start to think the trials did more than soften up my resistance to the truth. They mellowed me out, too, and helped me understand how incredible it is to take a chance on someone. To trust. To experience true intimacy and invite a worthy man like Ben into the deepest parts of my soul.
I’m not the same person who entered these trials. Even if my ending wasn’t meant to be so tragic, I’d be grateful for this lesson, and for the men who showed me what it means to be a friend, leader and lover. Without them, without Ben, I’d never know what love is supposed to feel like.
I’m afraid to think about tomorrow, afraid to humor my hope by imagining a life beyond the trials and curse. I cling to Ben with rare codependence, because I can also sense how desperate Erish is feeling. More than once, I consider swallowing the amulet to prevent Erish from cutting it off, if he wrenches control of my body away from me again. What stops me: not wanting him to stab me in the gut to get to the amulet inside me.
So I leave it where it is and stay cradled against Ben’s frame, protected from the curse, my life, myself.
As the shadows lengthen in the bedroom, and dusk falls, my panic starts to return. I watch the moon rise outside the windows and wonder if I’ll ever see it again. I hope I see it a million more times while safely tucked against Ben’s body. We’ve been in bed for a few hours, mainly because I’ve been too restless to sit in the living room and watch movies. My insides are twisting with anticipation and my emotions exhausted, but … I want more. I can’t explain or understand it, but I need Ben’s touch and kisses, his breath on my neck, his quiet assurances and the dirty sex talk to distract me.
I groan, aroused yet exhausted, wired with nervous anxiety and in need of a long nap. I’m uncomfortable from my inner turmoil. There’s no Tristan to fix what’s going on inside me.
Rolling in Ben’s arms, I press my chest to his and breathe him in. His scent calms me. I wish I were a werewolf again, so I could fully lose myself in my senses when it comes to him.
He runs his fingers through my hair. Soothed by the sensation, I close my eyes and bury my face in the nape of his neck. Thinking about tomorrow makes my breathing quicken and my stomach turn.
“You need some sleep, baby,” he whispers.
“No,” I reply stubbornly. “If I stay awake, tomorrow won’t come.”
“Pretty sure that doesn’t work.”
“What if tonight is the only time we have left together?”
“What if it’s not?” he counters gently. “What if tomorrow, we can start a new life together?”
The idea hurts me to the point my breath catches. I can’t let hope in completely, or I’ll lose my mind and my determination to do whatever I have to in order to end this curse.
“One thing at a time,” he repeats the words he said to me the first morning I was here. “We’re together right now. That’s what’s important.”
“I wish I was half as confident or calm as you are,” I murmur.
“I’m worried, Leslie.”
“You hide it well.”
“I’m also convinced this isn’t our last night together.”
I love his resolute tone, and his unfaltering determination helps bolster my spirit. If there’s one person I’ve ever met who can challenge a curse and win, it’s Ben.
I draw a deep breath. “Thank you for helping me,” I say in the comfortable silence.
“I believe in you, Leslie. The others do as well.”
“I know. You always have, haven’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“Did your gut tell you I’m not the failure I seem to be?” I ask.
“Something like that.” Warm amusement is in his tone.
“What else does it tell you?”
“That tomorrow will be hard, but you’ll do what no one in two thousand years has been able to.”
I may not believe in myself completely yet, but I believe in him and what he says. “I have no idea how you exist or became so amazing,” I say, mystified. “You find one piece of a puzzle a hundred years ago and turned it into this. The plan that’ll break the curse. You are some kind of incredible, Ben.”
“I’ve always seen the world a little differently than others.”
“I’m glad you do and glad we met.” I close my eyes. “I have to ask you something.”
“Sure.”
“Can you read minds?”
He laughs. “You’d be surprised how many people ask me that.”
“No, I really wouldn’t.”
“I have a predator’s instincts and senses, a fascination with observing people and the ability to read nonverbal responses. Put all that together, and it seems like I can read minds.”
“Seems like it, or you can read minds?” I press.
“Life is more interesting when the person asking me is left guessing,” he teases. “But no, I can’t.”
I’m not sure I believe this but smile anyway.
“Get some sleep,” he whispers again and nudges my head aside to reach my lips. His kiss is leisurely and deep. When he releases me, I sigh.
“No. Don’t let me fall asleep.” Already, I’m f
ighting the urge to doze. I shift and open my eyes. The moment I settle once more, I’m drifting off. “Ben, don’t let me sleep!”
“I won’t leave your side. I promise.”
I don’t want this to be the last time he holds me. As I slip into slumber, I force myself to accept if I do die tomorrow, I’ll be saving his life and those of the people I care most about in the world. They’ll be better off, and I’ll be too dead to care.
Chapter Ten
I’m too anxious to eat breakfast the next morning. Ben and I arrive at my father’s place around ten. My mouth is dry as I gaze up at the sagging, brick façade of the row house, and my heart is pounding hard.
Ben squeezes my hand and pulls me into his body for a quick hug. I melt into him, calmed by his strength and the sense I’m home when I’m in his arms. When I feel ready, I release him and take his hand again, tugging him into the row house.
It’s quiet and cramped after the few days at Ben’s spacious home. Erish is at my heels, his presence heavy enough I catch myself looking over my shoulder to make sure he’s not standing behind me with a knife. I have no intention of giving him a chance to act against me.
I pull Ben into the study, and we stand in the doorway, overlooking the mess I created.
Familiar sorrow and longing settle into me as I gaze at my father’s desk. I want to think he didn’t die completely miserable. Maybe he knew I’d break the curse, or believed the candidates could help me. I don’t know.
Wishing to see him, to tell him I’m going to do it, fills me with frustration as much as anything else. My anger has faded, possibly an effect of being with Ben.
“All these are journals and histories kept by the Kingmakers,” I say and wave my hand around the study. Releasing his hand cautiously, I wait to see if Erish is going to attack me. The ghost doesn’t, so I pick my way through the piles of books to my father’s desk.
Resting my fingertips against the worn wood, I consider what I’m going to have to do to everything that reminds me of my father. I don’t fully understand his last letter to me, but I get the gist.