Ever since she had realised what she held inside, she had been distancing herself from him. Once they had been good friends. Now they were practically strangers. She wished it were different, but she couldn’t risk him discovering that she had a werewolf inside her. She would be out of a job if he did. The control unit didn’t employ anyone who could potentially make it onto the list.
Kat walked through the building doors and turned in the direction of the cemetery. A flicker of fear settled in her stomach. What would she do if the attacker was Amon? Leyton had asked her to make a decision. Would she kill Amon or save him?
She wasn’t strong enough to do either.
Her hand went to her right gun.
The cemetery loomed ahead of her. Flashing blue and red lights told her that the clean up team were already at the scene. She nodded to them as she approached and looked into the back of the ambulance. By the looks of things, the victim was alive. The paramedics blocked her view of their patient so she couldn’t see how bad it was. She turned away. She didn’t need to see. She had witnessed firsthand how vicious a rogue werewolf could be.
The ambulance driver closed the back doors and then the vehicle pulled away. As the screaming sirens drifted into the distance, she drew slow deep breaths to prepare herself. The victim would survive this time. No doubt they would wake up not remembering a thing just as all the others did. The unit ran the hospitals and the drug they administered was very effective at erasing recent memories. It was the only way to stop the knowledge of werewolves spreading.
Sometimes she wished she had never found out about them. Other times she was glad that she had. She was glad that she had shared a short time with Amon.
“Kat!”
She turned, her hand tightening around her gun. Paul jogged over to her, a broad smile on his face. He was wearing similar black fatigues to her. A pair of black nine millimetres swung at his waist as he ran. His short dark curly hair was damp, glistening under the strong moonlight. It had been a while since she had seen him and now wasn’t exactly the best time. She wanted to be alone. She needed to make sure that the werewolf responsible for tonight’s attack wasn’t Amon. If Paul came with her, he would kill Amon on sight. Her whole body throbbed with pain at that thought.
“Paul,” she said with a breezy smile, covering her feelings. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought I’d come see what was going down.” He slowed to a walk and shrugged. “Things are quiet in the north sector and this is the only werewolf on the list.”
There was a hint of something in his near-black eyes. His smile widened but the tight scar that ran down the left side of his face and cut across his lips made it look like a grimace.
“How’ve you been?” he said and reached out to her. His question caught her off guard but she evaded his hand. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Good.” Her throat felt tight. What was she supposed to say? ‘The man that I still love might have hurt that person and now I’m petrified of what I might do if I see him’?
Could she really kill Amon? The beast inside her snarled at the mere suggestion.
“We’re still partners, Kat,” Paul said with a hint of a frown now. His eyes looked darker. His thumb caressed the butt of his left pistol and toyed with the thin leather strap that held it in the holster.
Her heart hammered against her chest.
Silver.
Her guns felt heavy.
Her stomach squirmed and flipped over.
She needed to get away.
“I know,” she said, dragging her gaze away from his guns and managing to meet his eyes. “I just need to be alone tonight. Maybe next time we can hunt together. You understand, right?”
Paul’s eyes narrowed. He was silent for a few seconds, dark emotion playing across his features. There was a lot of anger in there. She was trying his patience now.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said at last, his smile back.
He tugged his black jacket around him, jammed his hands into his pockets, turned on his heel and walked away.
She remained rooted to the spot, watching him go. Her heart began to slow with each step he took and when he had disappeared from view, it was back to normal.
Kat took one last look around to make sure that she was alone and then entered the cemetery.
It was the largest one she had ever had to do a sweep of. She worked methodically, starting at the outskirts and slowly working inwards, her focus intent on her surroundings so she didn’t miss a thing. She didn’t see the graves that she passed—a mixture of moonlight-tinted solemn statues, crosses, plain headstones, and low stone sarcophaguses.
An hour later, Kat found herself back at the spot where she had killed the werewolf the night before. No sign of the werewolf responsible for tonight’s attack.
Kat stared at the grass where the dead body had been last night. The bright moon made it easy to see that the blood was gone. It must have rained during the day. The air smelt fresh and cool. Winter was beginning in earnest and the night held a hint of snow to come. It had been a while since she had seen snow. The last time was when she had been with Amon back at his pack’s home.
She remembered sitting curled up on his lap on an armchair in front of a roaring fire, his arms wrapped around her, comforting and tight. The fire had been the only light in the dark silent room. The snow had been falling heavily outside and blanketing the world in white. Amon had ordered that they were left alone. She had never had such a perfect moment in her life as that, and all they had been doing was holding each other.
Her eyes closed with the memory. The silence of the cemetery joined with it to soothe her, invading every pore until she felt as still and peaceful as her surroundings.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose.
Someone was close.
She turned on a pinpoint, at the same time drawing one of her guns with her right hand. When she came to a halt, she found herself staring down the line of her gun at Amon. Her hand trembled, as unsteady as her breathing. The whole of her shook along with it.
“Leyton told me.” His voice was pure seduction, low and sensual. It caressed her ears, warmed her heart and made it beat a little quicker.
She breathed out sharply, sucked in another breath, and fought to hold her gun steady.
Amon’s long black coat flared out in the chill breeze. He moved towards her. She held her ground, keeping her gun on him. Her feelings collided inside her. Fear fought calm, anger battled happiness, and hate warred with love.
She took a step back, needing the distance. Her palms began to sweat. She wiped her free hand on the leg of her black combats and then wrapped it around the one holding the gun. It still shook.
Her heart beat at a dizzying pace. Breath short and sharp, she glared at Amon. How could he still affect her like this? After four years, her feelings hadn’t faded in the slightest. Just the sight of him made her knees weak and her body tremble with need.
A faint smile curved his lips. The moon made his eyes twinkle. Damn he was beautiful.
He went to move towards her. She jerked her gun, locking her arms tight to show him that she was serious. He rocked back on his heels and frowned.
“Did you attack someone tonight?” The words came out fast. She had to ask, even if the idea that he might say yes petrified her.
Amon shook his head. Tangled threads of his black hair hung across one eye, the tips stroking his strong jaw. He hadn’t shaved. Another smile tugged at the corners of his lips and sent her heart fluttering.
Her hand went for her other gun but she didn’t draw it. The gun she held aimed at him wavered so much that she couldn’t focus on it.
“I took care of them for you,” he whispered. “I wanted us to be alone... undisturbed.”
Kat looked into his eyes. Their dark depths held her, familiar but foreign at the same time. They evoked a montage of memories made up of all the times that she had stared into them. It culminated in that moment be
side the fire.
Undisturbed.
They had been alone then. He had always wanted her all to himself. It seemed he still wanted it that way. The warmth inside her heart became fire that spread through her body, reigniting the sensations that she had felt in today’s dream. She fought her desire and need, telling herself that she wasn’t going to give in to him. She wasn’t, no matter how much she wanted to.
It was a shame that her body wasn’t getting the message. It was turning hotter by the second. Urgent need for him burned up her heart until it was impossible to ignore. Liquid heat pooled at the juncture of her thighs. Her skin flushed with prickly heat at the thought of his touch.
He took another step towards her, ignoring her threat to shoot him.
Her breath shortened. Her fingers closed tighter around her gun, a last stand that felt redundant. Her heart said to surrender and let him have her. She had missed him so much—his touch, his kiss, and his strong embrace. She had missed all of him. And she could have him back if she only gave up the fight.
Another step and she lost the battle with her desire.
Kat lowered the gun a fraction. The moment she did, he knocked her hand away, sending the gun tumbling from her trembling fingers, and caught her cheeks in his palms. In a heartbeat, he had tilted her head up, pressed his body into hers, and crushed her lips with a kiss so fierce that it branded her heart with its demand.
He wanted her.
It echoed her own need and hunger, and her eyes closed. Her fingers grasped the collar of his jacket and she dragged him against her. The fervour of her kiss matched his. Her tongue hungrily plundered his warm mouth, desperate to taste him. Stubble scratched at her lips, reddening them, and she didn’t care. She needed more. She needed all of him.
He drove forwards with force and a speed that had her almost falling over her feet. The lid of the sarcophagus behind her slammed painfully into her back, knocking the air from her. It didn’t stop her from kissing him. Nothing could.
Kat pulled harder on his collar and then pushed her hands up over his strong neck. She tangled her fingers in the soft threads of his long hair and held his mouth against hers. He groaned, the sound of it sending a warm rush through her entire body that heightened her desire. Filled with an urge to feel his strength, she pushed against him with her elbows. He responded exactly as she’d wanted.
With a growl, he shoved forwards, slamming her back into the tomb. A firm hand settled against her lower back, his other one snaking possessively around the nape of her neck. He leaned into her, trapping her arms against his chest. It still wasn’t enough. She needed to feel that this was really him. He tasted the same on her tongue, his lips were as soft but sensual as she remembered, and he smelt like cinnamon and fire, but she still felt as though she was dreaming. An ache to touch him settled deep in her core. She longed to trace the planes of his body with her fingertips, charting muscles that she had once intimately known and recalling paths she used to take across them to the secret spots that made him moan. The sensitive areas that only she knew.
Her hands went to his collar again. She pushed his coat off his shoulders and dragged it down, only for it to become stuck at his elbows. She had to get it off him. She had to feel him against her. Only that would satisfy her need and make her believe this was real.
Her eyes opened wide when his hands shifted, claiming her hips with a primal strength that sent a shiver of arousal through her. He pulled upwards, dragging the hem of her shirt and her camisole with him. The material bunched beneath her breasts. The chill night air turned her skin to gooseflesh. Hot fingers chased away the cold, caressing her bare sides and turning her blood to molten lava. She moaned into his mouth, her kiss turning fierce in response to his touch.
A desperate tug on his jacket revealed it was still stuck at his elbows and his hands showed no sign of leaving her sides. He was stroking her back, up and down, his touch light and making her dizzy. Her hands dived downwards between his arms and under his black t-shirt. The first feel of his hard abdominals made her groin throb. Prickly heat chased across her skin. The fine trail of dark hair that led down from his navel tickled her fingertips. She traced them upwards, delighting in the way he tensed beneath her touch, until she reached his pectorals. With a wicked little smile against his lips, she raked her nails down his stomach. He sneered, grabbed her backside with both hands and pushed her hard against the sarcophagus. She moaned at the feel of his hardness pressing into her groin.
Damn she needed more.
Four years was too long. Four years without a man’s touch. Four years without his touch.
Kat yanked his t-shirt up and found his chest with both hands. He moaned in pleasure, the low sound reverberating through her as he devoured her mouth. His tongue tackled hers and then slid sensuously along it in the exact way it had in her dream, tasting every inch of her. The feel of his mouth on hers, his warm hard body pressed against her most intimate part, and his hands holding her tight awakened a primitive need in her. Each sweep of her fingers against his tight torso sent a tremble through her that increased her hunger for him, sending it spiralling upwards towards a point where she knew that need would take control and all sense of restraint would be lost.
She didn’t care. She wanted to reach that crescendo with him, with his mouth fused with hers, his hands claiming what was rightfully his, and their bodies as one.
Kat grazed her thumbs over his pebbled nipples, remembering how his eyes would roll back in his head whenever she did that, and he groaned.
He cupped her breasts and had his revenge, rubbing his thumbs roughly over the spot where her nipples were beneath her clothing. Her breasts ached and tightened in response to the delicious torture. Another moan broke the still night air.
Amon’s lips trailed fire across her jaw and down her throat. He buried his face there, devouring her neck with kisses and playful bites. God, how she loved the feel of his teeth against her flesh. She cursed him for remembering exactly how rough she liked things and leaned her head back to give him better access to her neck. She never had been able resist him when he was so commanding, bending her to his will.
Enslaved by their fire, she embraced the passion that had always burned between them, ready for anything and wanting it all.
Amon growled.
Kat’s beast reared up inside her and an answering call rumbled through her chest.
“You’ve matured,” Amon murmured appreciatively against her throat and kissed along her collarbone, his thumb circling her right nipple through her shirt. The knowledge that her werewolf had set up home in her body clearly pleased him. “The wolf has awoken.”
It raised its head in response to that and snarled deep within her, aching for freedom. Kat screwed her eyes closed to shut out the warring words in her head and kissed him, desperate to forget her fears. She wanted him.
She wanted to run wild and free at his side and rule the night with him.
“Soon you’ll need to mate...” His panting breath tickled her lips with each broken word. “Or you’ll become dangerous.”
Those words were lost on her. It was impossible to concentrate on anything but the intense feelings that his caress evoked and the enchanting thought of being forever his. His hands were everywhere, touching, torturing and tempting her into submission. The beast inside cowered, lowering its head to his own wolf, and she followed it. She knew that she needed him, couldn’t function without him, but to have him, she would need to do the impossible. She could do it. She could do it to be with him.
He growled again.
Her beast lurched forwards.
Embracing the Wolf Page 3