by C. D. Gorri
I sat up slowly. “Why won’t you answer me?”
“Eden—”
“Just answer the question!”
“Because I didn’t love her like I love you!” He said it on a burst that left his shoulders heaving. Two spots of color stained his cheeks.
I forgot how to breathe. “You…” I licked my lips. “What did you say?”
“You heard me,” he muttered. He wiped a hand over his mouth. “And I’m sure you’ll use this against me.”
“In what way?”
He gave a bitter laugh. “Because I know you don’t love me back. You would leave me if you could. Will leave me the moment I let my guard down.” His expression turned fierce. “You should know that won’t happen, Eden. And even if you manage it, I’ll find you. You can run to the farthest city with the biggest walls, and it won’t matter. There is no other for me but you. I knew it from the moment I caught your scent. Then you held my gaze in challenge, and your fate was sealed. Run from me and I’ll hunt you down and whip your ass raw. Then I’ll spread you open and make you come so hard you forget every word except my name.”
I should have been afraid. His predator’s eyes were locked on me, and the things he said were cruel. Unconscionable.
And yet…
We stared at each other across the room. Time stilled. Evening light streamed through the windows, burnishing his muscled arms in shades of gold.
I drew an unsteady breath. “Don’t threaten me.”
Slowly, he walked to the bed. Instead of stopping, however, he kept on coming, gently tipping me back and covering my body with his. With his weight on his palms on either side of me, he lowered his head and murmured, “Oh, it’s not a threat. It’s a promise.”
He kissed me with aching gentleness, his tongue sliding in long strokes I seemed to feel everywhere. My body sank into the bed, and I gave a soft sigh that ended on a moan as he slid a hand under my shirt.
He ran his hand up my belly to my bare breast, squeezing lightly.
I arched up to meet him as sparks flew across my skin.
Slowly—almost carefully—he lifted off me and pulled my clothes off, maneuvering me as if I was a child. When I was totally bare, he rose and removed his own clothing in the same unhurried way. It was like he wanted to savor every moment. Like he wished to stop and taste rather than devour.
His cock jutted from his hips, hard and ready, yet he stretched over me again and took my mouth in another long, languid kiss. All the while, his hands caressed my hair, my neck, my chest. He ran a butterfly touch over the healing mark on my neck, his fingers swirling up to tease at the sensitive spot under my ear.
Every touch drove me a little bit higher, stoking the flames of passion until I was gasping and moaning. I slid one leg up his thigh, urging his hips closer to my aching center.
His soft laugh fluttered the fine hairs at my temple. “Are you trying to tell me something?”
“Yes,” I groaned. “Hurry up.”
“Greedy female,” he murmured in throaty approval. “With a wet pussy thirsting for my shaft.”
The dirty talk set me off even more, and I arched harder against him.
He spread my thighs wide. Then he gripped his cock and dragged the head against my opening, dabbling the crown in my juices. He repeated the movement, teasing the tip around my clit before pushing all the way inside with a slow, rolling thrust of his hips.
Rapture. I lifted my arms above my head, reveling in the heat and the fullness. Even as soaked as I was, his shaft was a tight fit, and it hit every nerve ending inside me, setting off fireworks across my skin.
Unlike the other times we were together, he didn’t thrust right away. Instead, he stayed buried to the root inside me as he brushed his lips over my cheek, my lips, the tip of my nose. He tasted the skin under my jaw and around the curve of my ear. The gentle touches raised goosebumps on my skin and drew soft moans from my throat.
Still buried inside me, he pulled back and ran his gaze down my body. He followed it with his hand, trailing his fingertips from my breasts to the spot where our bodies joined.
“Look at us,” he demanded, drawing my eyes downward. With his thumb and forefinger, he spread my flaring lips even wider, letting me see how they stretched, shiny and taut, around his thick shaft.
He splayed his hand across my sex and rubbed my clit with the pad of his thumb, making my hips buck. “Do you want this?”
I shuddered, my “yes” coming on a breathy exhale. Yet even with desire fogging my mind, I realized this time was different than all the others. My need was strong, but it wasn’t desperate or unrelenting.
There was no beast hovering in the shadows, ready to sink its claws into my skin if I didn’t get my release.
My heat was gone, along with the frenzy that had driven me to accept Rurik’s claim.
This time, my body responded because I desired him in my mind as well as my body.
He began to thrust, his wicked fingers still slipping over my clit. He moved his hips in a sure, steady rhythm, coaxing us both higher and higher. Our gazes met and held, and I saw my wonder reflected in his eyes.
This wasn’t a fast, brutal fuck. He made love to me.
Because he loves me.
The knowledge curled around my mind, flowing like a warm river. And then it was the river. Rurik streamed into my thoughts, giving me flashes of memory and emotion. Pounding ocean and rich earth and the deep blue well of my eyes staring into his. There was a glimpse of me striking Hetta—and his surge of pride as I bested her.
Strong. The river echoed with the word. He found me strong and beautiful.
Incomparable.
Heat rushed me, and then I was coming, my body arching as I shuddered over and over. Then he joined me, pumping his release in a series of short thrusts, our mingled gasps reaching my ears as I shot beyond time and space. We soared together, his golden stare burning into mine, the river spilling over, echoing mine…mine…
I love you.
Chapter Eighteen
The next time I opened my eyes, it was dark. I lay spooned in Rurik’s embrace, my ass nestled against his softened shaft. His hand rested heavy on my hip, and his breaths had the slow, even cadence of deep sleep.
As my body came alive, pain flared across my stomach and shot through my ribs. Hetta. Rurik might not want her, but she still wasn’t over him.
And I had the bruised ribs to show for it.
I also had a full bladder.
Moving as little as possible, I slipped from Rurik’s arms and slid from the bed. The sheet lay crumpled at the bottom, and I pulled it free and wrapped it around me before padding across the room. At the door, I looked over my shoulder at the bed. Rurik slept on, his shoulder rising and falling.
Mercifully, the door didn’t creak when I opened it, and I made it across the hall and into the bathroom without waking Rurik. The bathroom was basic but functional, and I relieved myself as fast as I could before washing my hands and stepping back into the hall.
Without the pressure of a bursting bladder, I noticed the bright spill of moonlight on the stone floor.
But that couldn’t be. The hall lacked windows, and its torches had been snuffed for the night.
Still, the light had to come from somewhere. Casting a quick glance at Rurik’s door, I made my way down the hall, following the silvery glow. For some reason, my heart pounded like a drum, and anticipation rushed through my veins. Maybe my subconscious knew what I’d find, because when I reached the open archway leading to a twisting set of steps, I wasn’t even surprised.
The exterior staircase. The one Rurik said went to the top of the tower. If I went up there, I could see the stars without the glow of a city’s lights blotting them from the sky.
On impulse, I gathered the sheet in one hand and started climbing through the night. The stairs wrapped around the stone, with a short wall on the outer edge. Part of me wanted to lean over to see what lay below, but I forced myself to keep close to the
tower. Like a kid, I wanted to save the best part for last—to relish the experience until I could take in the view all at once. How many times had I sat atop the watchtowers on the city’s walls, longing to see the stars? It was worth waiting for.
My ribs twinged as I climbed, making me grit my teeth and clamp an arm across my waist. If Hetta had hit just a little bit harder, I wouldn’t be climbing anything right now. The pain pinched deeper, and I stopped on a step and leaned against the stone.
Each breath pulled a fresh wave of soreness through my abdomen. With moonlight streaming all around me, I opened the sheet and looked at my stomach.
A wide, angry bruise bloomed across my midsection. The skin was mottled purple and green. It would probably get darker over the next few days, going through a kaleidoscope of colors that would remind me of the blow each time I changed my shirt. Anger rose in my chest, and my gums ached as my fangs descended. If Hetta was smart, she’d stay well out of my path.
The air stirred, a light breeze tugging at my hair. I tucked the sheet back in place and continued climbing. I was sweating as I reached the top, my heart pounding from the steep, twisting ascent. Like the other tower, Rurik’s was bordered by battlements. Excitement pumping through my veins, I went to them and braced my hands on the stone.
Then I tipped my head back and took in the night.
Stars. They spread over me like a blanket—a million pinpricks of light that pierced the velvety black. Venus was a distant blue marble among the sea of white, and Orion’s belt sparkled as he hefted his club high overhead. I picked out other constellations, tracing the dips and curves with my gaze.
It was a breathtaking sight. Enough to make my heart skip a beat. I clutched the stone more tightly and leaned farther back. Again, my heart skipped.
And again.
I lowered my head, my brows pulling tight.
Again, my heart skipped.
Except…it didn’t. I pressed my palm against my chest. Under my hand, my heart thudded like normal, the rhythm steady and strong. I frowned, concentrating. With my feral’s senses, I could hear every swish and thump as my heart worked. And there was nothing wrong.
Another skip, like a double beat.
I froze. Like a double beat or a hiccup. The young mother from the hospital’s face swam in my mind. “At first, I thought it was an echo of my own.” She said it started early, before she even knew she was…
My throat went dry. I opened the sheet, my hands shaking so hard I had to try a couple times to grasp the cloth. The wind picked up, tugging at my hair and snapping the fabric around my legs. I stared at my stomach, then lay a trembling hand over it.
My heart thumped—and a second, fainter thump skipped under my hand.
Just under the wide, purplish bruise Hetta gave me. She hit me so hard I flew across the tower.
She hit me in challenge. Because she was a dominant feral, and that was how they solved their problems. With their fangs and fists. She’d called me a “norm bitch.” Said my presence in The Vale was an “abomination.” How many other of Rurik’s ferals felt the same?
What would the other alphas do when word got out I was treating ferals—lycans—with norm medicine?
And now I was pregnant.
The stars blazed overhead—a vast sea of light shining over me. Under my pale fingers, my skin was swollen and black.
Wind whipped around the tower, beating harder and faster until the stone seemed to vibrate.
And then it was vibrating. Great, shivering waves rippled under my feet. A high-pitched whine filled the air, along with a deeper, slower drone.
Wind screamed in my ears as an airship descended out of nowhere, swooping from behind me to hover next to the tower. Stunned, I could only stare as its massive propellers beat the air. The hull tipped and Michael leaned out, his mouth moving as he shouted something I couldn’t hear. The sheet plastered against my body, and warm air blasted my face, making my eyes water. A hot tear dashed from my eye to my temple.
Michael shouted, his mouth stretched wide. The wind snatched his words away, but I read his lips. Jump! Eden, jump!
He tossed a coil of rope to the tower. It landed, thick and heavy, at my feet.
From the depths of the tower came a mighty roar, the sound one of pure, raw fury.
Rurik was coming for me.
Michael’s mouth moved. He was close enough for me to see his white knuckles gripping the side of the hull.
Jump!
It was my only chance.
The roar came again, its force strong enough to shake the stone under my feet.
I dropped the sheet, grabbed the rope, and jumped.
Chapter Nineteen
The constant beep of machines was going to drive me insane. Funny how the noise never bothered me before.
But then, I’d never been a patient before.
I lay propped in the hospital bed with an IV in my arm, my gaze fixed on the white wall. There was a small chalkboard in the center where my night nurse, Kira, had scrawled her name in bubbly handwriting that matched her personality.
She bustled in now, her brown ponytail bouncing. “And how are we feeling this evening?” She didn’t wait for my response. “It’s good news tonight, Doctor Bradley! Doctor Everson cleared you to take serum, so we can begin suppressing the virus.”
I pushed myself upright and frowned at her. “He didn’t mention anything about it earlier. I’d like to talk to him first.” In the three days I’d been in the hospital, I only saw him briefly, and we never discussed my pregnancy. He treated the rope burn on my hands from my jump off the tower, and he stitched the minor laceration I suffered when I smacked my head against the airship’s hull as Michael pulled me up. By some miracle, the blow didn’t knock me unconscious—at least not at first. I’d clung to the rope long enough for Michael to yank me onto the deck and into his arms. Darkness had rushed to claim me, but not before I got a look at an enraged Rurik standing on the battlements, his golden eyes seething with fury. He’d stood completely still, the look on his face promising retribution.
And violence.
Beside me, the heart rate monitor let out a warning beep, prompting Kira to rush over and punch a button.
“You okay?” she asked, reaching for my wrist.
I snatched my hand away. “I’m fine.”
“But your pulse is—”
“I’m fine.” Before I could stop it, a growl rumbled in my throat. It happened more and more often, and I knew exactly why. The Lykos-D in my body was replicating, entrenching itself more deeply. Changing me. If I didn’t reverse it soon, those changes would become permanent.
Assuming they weren’t already. There was no guarantee the reversal process would succeed.
Kira paled and took a step back. “I-I’m sorry. I just want to h-help.” Her throat worked as she swallowed.
Dammit. There I went again, terrorizing the nursing staff. If I kept it up, she was going to put a note in my chart. Doctors and nurses always knew which patients were the “problem cases.”
I rubbed a hand over my face. “I’m the one who’s sorry, Kira. It’s just…” I took a deep breath. “You know what they say about doctors being the worst patients.”
She recovered at once, her features smoothing. “It’s true, and nurses can be just as bad!” Then her expression sobered, her brown eyes welling with sympathy. “Of course, anyone would feel on edge after everything you’ve been through.” She shivered and added, “Being held captive by an alpha in a den of ferals…”
A soft knock rang out, and then Michael appeared in the doorway.
“Oh! Doctor Hessen!” Kira looked between us, beaming. “I’m sure you two have a lot of catching up to do. I’ll make sure you’re not disturbed.”
Michael spoke without taking his eyes off me. “That would be lovely, Kira, thank you.”
“Of course.” She faced me fully and mouthed he’s so handsome before heading for the door. As she passed Michael, she patted his arm and lowered
her voice to a volume I wasn’t meant to hear. “She’s a little unsettled tonight. Try to keep her calm.”
“Thank you,” he murmured back. “I will.”
I clenched my jaw as her footsteps echoed down the hall.
Michael watched me quietly from the doorway.
“You can come in,” I said. “I won’t bite.” Immediately, Soren’s invitation around the fire echoed through my thoughts. I twisted the hospital blanket in my fingers.
Michael walked to the bed. After a long moment, he asked, “How do you feel?”
“Like I’m really tired of people asking me that.”
A muscle ticked in his jaw. There was another long pause, then he said, “Everson says you can start serum today. That should take care of the pregnancy, so you—”
“Take care of it?” Instinctively, I put a hand over my midsection.
Michael followed the movement, and his mouth tightened. “Of course, Eden,” he said, exasperation in his voice. “What, you think you’re going to have a feral’s baby and raise it inside the city?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. I wasn’t sure what I’d thought. I spent the past three days being poked and prodded and told how lucky I was to have such a well-connected fiancé. It was Michael who convinced the governor to send an airship to search for me after I failed to turn up at Black Rock. The pilots and Michael put themselves in grave danger to save me. Everyone said so. And I must be so proud to have such a brave man to look out for me.
But I didn’t feel anything close to pride.
“The governor’s wife died,” I said abruptly. “They told me.”
“I know.” He gave the slightest shrug—just the merest lift of his shoulders. “It’s a shame, but there’s nothing you could have done. You can’t blame yourself.”
I stared at him. “How can you be so dismissive?”
“Dismissive?” He frowned. “I’m sorry she died, but you can’t save everyone, Eden. You tried and look where it got you.” His gaze raked me. “Kidnapped by an animal and forced to—”
“He didn’t force me.”