The guys exchanged a look, then each one rolled up his sleeves.
Their arms were bare.
Ryder barely glanced at his bicep, clearly not expecting to be chosen, disappointment and acceptance shadowing in his eyes. Though Draven hid it, he was overjoyed not to have been selected. Atlas didn’t even bother to hide his relief.
As one, they all looked across the gym to see Kincade scratching his arm.
“No.” Morgan shook her head, backing away. “Not him.”
“Shite. She’s going to run.” Ryder charged toward her, sweeping her off her feet and tossing her over his shoulder, heading toward the exit with long strides.
Atlas split off from them. “I’ll head off Kincade.”
Morgan bucked, nearly escaping from Ryder’s hold. “Don’t tell him.”
All the men stopped and stared at her bug-eyed. “You would deny him this honor?”
Ryder snorted at the same time. “Do you think he wouldn’t notice?”
Morgan felt trapped, the fight draining out of her, and she slumped in defeat. She didn’t like the look the others were giving her…full of speculation and such damming hope that her chest ached. They were happy, even excited by the markings.
The fools.
She didn’t protest as they carried her away, the strength draining away from her bones.
“Oh, Kincade’s going to fucking freak out.” Draven’s voice was both grim and amused, and she barely bit back a groan.
Chapter Twenty-two
Everyone automatically headed toward the barracks. Draven and Ryder watched her pace back and forth with varying degrees of curiosity and concern. Morgan could feel the clock ticking down, and it was all she could do to keep her shit together.
The door slammed open with a bang and Kincade burst into the room, his hair wild, his chest heaving, his eyes savage. He located her immediately, unerringly, as if she was some damned beacon.
Pure possessiveness stared back at her, the cold reserve he hid behind when they first met was stripped away completely. The heat in his expression, his ferocity, frightened her more than any monster she’d ever faced.
Much to her shock, he tore off his shirt and advanced on her. She froze, distracted by his predatory grace and rippling muscles as he strode toward her, the sleek way he moved hijacking her sense of self-preservation, and she stood there like a dummy. To her surprise, his entire shoulder was covered in the same swirling pattern as her hand, the lines spilling down his arm to his elbow. Instead of dainty lines, the dips and swirls of molten silver were bolder, more masculine.
The more primitive side of her was pleased to see her stamp on him, but more than anything else, it scared her shitless.
He displayed his marks with pride, but the pleasure in his eyes faded as he drew closer, his gaze locked on the arm she’d tucked close to her body, instinctively trying to hide her markings. His brows lowered, and he grabbed her wrist, staring down at the markings accusingly, as if she’d somehow betrayed him.
“Who is the second person you’ve mated?” The demand was barely more than a snarl. He rubbed at the obsidian line as if he could wipe it away by will alone.
Morgan jerked away from him, flinging up her hands. “How the hell should I know? I didn’t ask to be marked. This is a stupid, antiquated custom. You can’t really take any of this seriously.”
A snarl curled his lips, and her faint hope that he would back her up vanished.
“Whether you like it or not, you’re mine, and I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect you.”
“Oh, dude, wrong thing to say.” Draven dropped his head into his hands.
The life she’d envisioned vanished, her freedom evaporated before she even had a chance to be free. She narrowed her eyes on him and lifted her chin mulishly. “You can’t force me.”
“Watch me.” He began stalking her across the room. “Who else marked you? Who else dared touch you?” Kincade glared at each member of his team, and each one shook his head. It only made Kincade scowl harder.
“I’m not a possession you can own.” Morgan stood her ground, refusing to be treated as property. “You have no right to barge into my life or demand to know whom I touch. Butt out.”
Draven shook his head and sighed. “Oh, sweeting. Wrong thing to say.”
Any imaginary wall existing between them crumbled to dust, and he barged into her personal space. The hot stone scent she associated with him nearly had her rocking forward to seek more. She didn’t know why it smelled so good; her mouth was actually watering.
“Who?”
Thankfully, the sharp demand snapped her back to her senses. She leaned forward, speaking through clenched teeth. “I will say it more slowly so it will penetrate that thick skull of yours. I. Don’t. Know. It’s not like I asked for this shit! I don’t date. I don’t hang around guys. I kept my distance from everyone for a reason—to avoid any chance of this happening. Coming here was a mistake.”
She spun away, gripping her hair, feeling like she was bashing her head against a stone wall trying to get through to him.
Kincade pushed her forward until he had her pinned to the wall. She struggled to throw an elbow, twisting to get away, but he held her too firmly, every inch of him covering her back. His lips brushed the side of her neck. A second later, the press of his fangs against the crook of her neck froze her to the spot.
Instead of fear, instead of fighting, she reacted to his nearness on the most primitive level. Her body softened, her breathing picked up, and she desperately longed to get closer. She barely bit back a groan, the urge to push against him nearly overwhelming, and she cursed her body’s betrayed. “Get off me!”
“Calm.” His rough voice whispered in her ear, sending shivers down her spine, and she was terrified to move lest she did something stupid…like curl around him the way her body craved.
Ryder leaned against the wall next to her, and hunkered down to capture her attention, ignoring the way Kincade growled at him to keep his distance. Her stupid body heated, perversely loving Kincade’s possessiveness. “You fear he will be turned into a slave, forced to obey you.”
She frantically searched Ryder’s eyes, looking for any spark of reason in this insanity.
“Does he feel like a slave to you?”
Kincade retracted his fangs, then began to gently lick at the wound, the rasp of his tongue weakening her knees.
“No.”
“The bindings can be what you make them.” Sadness darkened Ryder’s eyes, and she felt him pulling away. “You’ve seen how the bond can be perverted, but that is actually pretty rare. The markings can also be a lifeline, and often are the best thing to happen to us. Bonding happens infrequently, especially for those as young as you two. It usually takes decades of searching. I suspect it happened because you two are so very powerful, or maybe it was triggered since your life is in danger. You don’t see pairs often, because they are assigned their own territories to protect, but seeing a true mated couple fight is a sight to behold.”
Some of the fight went out of her. “Why two?”
“The stronger the female, the more male protectors she attracts.” He gave a shrug. “I honestly expect you to have more. You just haven’t found them yet.”
“And the mating?” Her voice was barely a whisper, her face burning. She could already tell touching Kincade was different. He stood silent, practically vibrating with so much primitive emotion she wondered if he was beyond speaking…or maybe he was heroically resisting the urge to strangle her. She wouldn’t put either past him. She might have been curious about him before the mating marks, now she actively hungered for his touch.
She hated it.
Didn’t she?
Ryder swallowed hard, his eyes caressing her face. “Your body will automatically seek your mates for comfort. You will find their touch pleasurable, but no matter what happens, you will always have your own free will. They will not force you or rush you. It’s ultimately your choice who you chos
e to love.”
When she saw the determined look in his eyes, she suspected he would make sure of it.
To her surprise, his promise of protection eased her misgivings.
Then he went and ruined it by talking again. “It’s usually not an issue anyway. The mating bond will make you crave each other. You’ll seek each other out for something as simple as taking comfort by being in the same room with each other.”
Morgan thumped her forehead against the wall. When she lifted her head to do it again, Kincade loosened his grip and slipped his hand between the wall and her forehead, already trying to protect and coddle her. He would never let her fight now. Unable to think with him so close, she wiggled free. While he allowed her to step away from him, he didn’t let her go far.
It didn’t matter.
The feel of his body was imprinted on her mind down to her soul, and she feared she would never be able to forget it.
“We need to find your other mate and begin making plans.” His voice was gentler, but his eyes were no less intense as he gazed at her.
Morgan felt overwhelmed by the enormity of the coming changes.
What did it mean exactly to own a mate, much less two?
She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to survive one, let alone two people barging into her solitary life.
“You’re connected to us on a basic level.” Kincade kept his distance from her, hardly less than a foot, but she noticed the clenched hands at his sides, as if to keep himself from reaching for her. “If you concentrate on the connection, you should be able to sense him.”
Morgan narrowed her eyes on him. “Great. So you’re saying we’re basically lo-jacked with these marks?”
His lips twitched, but he ignored her question. “Close your eyes and concentrate.”
She eyed him suspiciously for a moment longer, then did as he suggested, feeling vulnerable with them watching her fumble around.
She focused on the marks on her arm and jolted when a combination of fierce joy and total terror swept over her.
It was Kincade, and his turbulent emotions threatened swallowed her whole.
She hastily pulled back, cutting off the connection, and Kincade grunted as if she’d kicked him in the balls.
Her eyes popped open, her breath ragged, fighting the instinctive urge to run away from him, as far and as fast as she could.
Kincade recovered first. “Try again.”
She licked her lips and closed her eyes.
The smell of fire and charcoal wrapped around her in a warm hug. Ascher. In hellhound form. His complete devotion came through the link, his pleasure at the connection so bright and shiny it brought tears to her eyes. The sweet taste of his relief at finding her well swamped him, and he gave a victorious howl that echoed throughout the school.
“That son of a bitch.” Kincade grabbed her shoulders, practically picking her up and setting her aside, jerking her away from the connection.
Ascher chose that moment to pad out of his room on silent feet. He eyed the others, his growl ceasing the moment his blue eyes settled on her. He came to her side as if the others didn’t exist, and leaned against her leg. She could see the shimmering lines of the mating mark covering his shoulder, the black lines highlighted by a dusky red that resembled live coals.
Morgan couldn’t help herself, and brushed the back of her hand against him in welcome. He’d been a part of her life for so long, it felt natural to have him at her side.
Kincade glared murderously at the hellhound, his eyes flickering to her hand as if jealous, which was ridiculous. He didn’t even like her, made it clear from day one. Mating didn’t change that…right?
She stepped away from Ascher and faced Kincade. “Refuse the markings.”
It was a demand.
“No.” He didn’t even bother to think about it, the bastard.
“You two don’t even like each other.” She pointed a finger between Kincade and Ascher. “You can’t want this any more than I do.”
The two males glanced at each other and shrugged. “Our feelings no longer matter. Keeping you safe is our priority now. We’ll work out our differences later.”
He sounded so reasonable she wanted to scream.
Kincade relented slightly. “It’s an honor to be chosen. Men never refuse their markings. It’s what we’ve worked toward since our birth. It’s a privilege, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that will give us the one thing we want most, and the one thing no one can ever take away from us—you. You’re our future, our greatest hope, and the only thing that will ever make us feel complete.”
He made it sound…beautiful.
An unbreakable bond.
Unwavering support.
The yearning to belong nearly swayed her, but she knew firsthand that what Kincade described wasn’t always what happened. Her memories flashed back to the witches at the coven, how they would sleep with different men every night, then pit them against each other the next day for fun. The behavior taught the protectors to be competitive jerks.
Obsessive and controlling.
It would be a prison.
Her stomach churned at the thought of having her every choice, her every action judged and criticized and monitored.
“Is there any way to break the connection once it forms?” She would not have them risk their lives for her. Trouble was coming. If Ethan found out about them, he would use them to destroy her.
The hellhound pressed so hard against her leg, he nearly knocked her off her feet, giving her a combination of a whine and growl from the back of his throat she easily translated to over my dead body. Kincade’s face darkened, a muscle jumping in his jaw, apparently too angry to speak. If Ascher wasn’t between them, she didn’t doubt he would have lunged for her.
In less than a day, the idea of breaking the connection devastated her.
She imagined the feeling would become worse over time.
Her pulse pounded in panic, the feeling of being trapped tightening her lungs.
The room fell ominously silent, and she glanced beseechingly at Draven. “I can’t be responsible for others. I can’t.” Only he would understand firsthand what an overwhelming and impossible task it was to protect someone else. Neither of them wanted to risk getting close to others, only to lose them.
It hurt too much.
Her throat tightened at the sympathy in Draven’s eyes.
Kincade finally managed to unclench his jaw enough to grit out one word. “No.”
Sorrow burrowed deeper in her chest when she realized she’d hurt him.
It hadn’t even been an hour, and she already sucked at this mating thing.
“I want her moved into the barracks with us.” Kincade turned toward his team, ignoring her completely, not even bothering to ask her first. “She’s a security risk and needs protection. They’re not going to stop coming after her unless we make them.”
“Agreed.” Ryder grunted, and Draven nodded as well.
Kincade’s shoulders relaxed at their easy capitulation.
“Don’t I get a say?”
“No.” All the guys spoke at once, even Ascher giving a bark of denial.
“I’ll speak with the headmistress and ask to be removed from the hunting roster. We can’t risk being lured out and ambushed.” No one even bothered to argue with him. “And I want one of us to be with her at all times.”
Morgan scowled. She could understand them feeling helpless in the face of the threat hanging over her head. She felt the same way, and voiced her worry. “Don’t you think you’re going a bit far?”
“No.” Kincade didn’t even bother to look at her. “The headmistress called an assembly for later today, and will announce whether they will be sending the students home or if it will be safer to keep them here and fortify the Academy. If we hurry, we can have you settled before we’re called to attend.”
In a matter of minutes, he’d taken over her life completely, her opinion mattering not at all.
Mor
gan felt like she just fell down the rabbit hole and landed in Hell.
Chapter Twenty-three
Morgan was in her newly appointed room, situated between Ascher’s and Kincade’s, staring blankly at her meager possessions, not quite sure how things had gone so wrong.
“Where’s the rest?” Draven leaned against the door with a frown, and she turned back to stare in confusion at the duffel bag on the bed.
“This is it.” She closed the bag, deciding not to unpack. Why bother? As soon as this mission was over, she would either be dead or gone.
“Girls like a lot of shite.” His frown darkened, and he crossed his arms, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip. “What happened to yours?”
She glanced at her possessions and shrugged. “I had to leave some of my weapons back in Maine.”
His brows slammed down, as if troubled by her comment, then gave her a charming smile. “We’re going to be heading down to the assembly in a few minutes.”
“Fine.” Morgan stifled a huff over her pampered prison. While the room was bigger, and much nicer than the last, she had absolutely no privacy. She could hear them talking, laughing, but wasn’t deceived. They were all watching her room, waiting for her to attempt an escape, suspicious of her easy capitulation.
She was tempted, but in the end, her relocation simplified things.
She could keep an eye on them as well.
She expected to feel crowded with them right outside her door, but she liked hearing the rumble of their voices, their abrupt laughter as they joked. It was…comforting. One by one, they left the main room to get ready for the assembly. Draven and Ryder took a shower, and she couldn’t help but smile over their primping.
Morgan set out her weapons, then began tucking them away on her person. As she slid the last two daggers in their sheaths at her waist, she turned to go…only to find the guys crowding her door, watching her in various degrees of fascination. The only one missing was Kincade.
Draven noticed her distraction. “Since Kincade is head of security, he is with the headmistress. All teachers are required to attend.”
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