by Laken Cane
Her mouth was so dry it hurt her throat to swallow. “Can you see me?”
He narrowed his eyes, and a brief flare of rage lit their yellow depths. “Fuck yes, I can see you.”
She knew he couldn’t see her true face, and she knew that wasn’t what he meant anyway. Her. Her.
He saw her.
The woman, the warrior, the survivor.
But the warrior was afraid.
She’d been a child when Acadia had cursed her.
“I’ve never done this,” she said.
“I know.” His stare grew hungrier. “And I’m about to change that.”
Her legs shook when she took a step toward him.
The alpha. Her alpha.
He straightened, his face blank.
But his eyes, oh God, his eyes.
He held out a hand, palm up.
She took another step, and then another, and finally, she stood before him. Her heart beat so rapidly she was sure it would fly from her chest.
To stand there and be that vulnerable…
“No.” But she didn’t move.
Wasn’t sure she could.
“Trust me,” he murmured.
He watched her for a long, long moment, giving her time to grow accustomed to his nearness, his heat, his power.
His maleness.
He didn’t touch her face. Not then.
He pulled her into the circle of his arms, loosely, and began to sway with her.
When her incredibly tense body began to relax, just the tiniest bit, he tightened his hold a little and there under the unending night sky, she slow danced with a man for the first time in her life.
Slow danced to the music of crickets and tree frogs and bated breaths and pounding hearts.
She could have danced forever.
He carefully, slowly slid his fingers up her spine and to the back of her neck, then left them lying there, heavy, warm, and possessive.
She eased her face forward and placed her cheek against his chest. His heartbeat, strong and steady, soothed her. She closed her eyes and inhaled, and the scent of him, the strength of him, wafted into her brain and held her secure.
He was her sanctuary.
“Trust me.”
She did. She so did.
His senses must have been on high alert. Every time she climbed another step, reached a higher level, he led her toward another.
She felt his breath stir her hair, and with a touch almost too light for her to feel, he kissed her head.
He held her almost unnoticeably tighter.
If he was impatient, he did not show it.
No. He had infinite patience.
She released a breath and at last, she touched him.
She slid her hands over his sides and around his back and held him the way he held her.
As though to let go would cause him pain. Agony.
Then, she slipped her fingers under the hem of his shirt and over the bare skin of his smooth, strong back.
He shuddered, his body moving against her palms, and she felt…
Powerful.
Desirable.
For the first time in her life.
She wanted, needed, to feel his skin. “Eli,” she whispered.
He backed away just enough to pull his shirt over his head. He flung it away, then pulled her back against him.
“Fuck, Abby.” His strained, hoarse voice caressed her in places she’d never been touched.
He restrained himself, and she knew it was because he needed her to trust him.
To want him the way he wanted her.
He would wait for exactly the right time, and then he would release himself from his self-imposed restraint. And when that happened, he was going to be fierce.
She rubbed her lips against the skin of his chest, and then, before she knew she was going to, she slid out her tongue to taste him.
He tightened his fingers on the back of her neck, a little too hard, then relaxed them at once.
“Alpha?” she murmured, her lips moving against his chest.
He must have heard the question in her voice. The plea.
“You’re the one I want.”
She nodded. It was really that simple. He knew what he wanted.
He wanted her.
“I will fight for you, Abby. For us. Believe that.”
She decided at that moment that she would deal with whatever came. But she wanted that night. And she would have it.
And finally, he touched her face.
Immediately she stiffened, but he left his fingers there, unmoving, until her body relaxed once more against him.
He slipped his fingertips over her jawline and to her cheek, and then to her lips. He moved his thumb back and forth over her bottom lip, slowly, gently.
She pressed her face against his chest as he gathered her thick hair in one hand. He gave the locks a gentle tug, urging her to look at him.
She was ready—she knew it, and he knew it.
But it was the hardest thing she had ever done or would ever do again.
“Trust me.”
It wasn’t only the alpha she had to trust. She had to trust herself.
So she let him pull her face away from his chest.
It was time.
But those first few seconds when she stood bare and vulnerable before him, she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes.
He leaned forward and kissed her scarred lids. One, then the other.
Then he waited silently, unmoving, until she could stand it no longer and opened her eyes.
His smile, slow in coming, lit his eyes.
It lit up her entire world.
“Good,” he said. He touched his lips to hers in a kiss as soft as the shadows around them, as sweet as the moonlight bathing the ground.
She couldn’t stop her own smile, and didn’t really try.
It burst free from her chest, that smile, burst from the darkness of her past, from the pain and the years of isolation, from the absence of hope.
That smile was born in the mirror of the alpha’s eyes, a mirror in which she finally saw herself—not her cursed, mangled face. She saw herself.
And she was beautiful.
About the Author-
The coffee addicted urban fantasy/paranormal writer Laken Cane lives in Southern Ohio with her genius son, two Yorkies named Daphnis and Lexi, and one Golden named Chloe who rules them all.
Places you can find Laken:
Instagram--http://www.instagram.com/lakencane
Website--http://www.lakencane.com
Twitter--www.twitter.com/lakencane
Goodreads--www.goodreads.com/lakencane
Facebook--www.facebook.com/laken.cane.3
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Unbreakable is the first book in the Waifwater Chronicles. Book two is currently in progress.
You can also find Laken’s Rune Alexander series on Amazon.
If you enjoyed this book, please leave a review on Amazon.com.