by Amy Pennza
It would have been easier to complete their bond without revealing her talent—to claim her and deal with the complications of her Gift later—but he already betrayed her trust once. He wouldn’t do it again.
Instead, he was trying to show her why he couldn’t live without her.
Lust, hot and powerful, surged again. She’d come so sweetly for him in the SUV, her sleek dark hair falling over her heaving breasts. Her delicate, enticing scent had bloomed like wildflowers in his nose and lungs. And when he tasted her…
His cock tightened. It had taken every bit of his self-restraint not to free his aching shaft and seat himself to the hilt right there in the car. She would have welcomed it—the tight clench of her wet passage around his fingers told him that. But she deserved better for her first time than a quick fuck in a diner parking lot. When he finally made love to her, it would be in his bed.
Their bed.
He rested his palm against the door. Like every other barrier she’d erected between them, it was easy enough to break down. But if he’d learned anything over the past five years, it was that force only worked in the short-term. For every obstacle he knocked out of the way, Lizette put up two more. He dropped his hand and headed toward his office at the back of the suite.
If he and Lizette had any chance at all, she had to be the one to open the door.
And he had to be willing to let her go.
For the second time that night, Lizette stood in Max’s shower. She’d been nervous about returning to the Lodge. It might be the middle of the night, but Jonah Hallerton’s presence meant there would be plenty of wolves about. Anyone who happened upon her and Max would know right away what they’d been doing. Max’s scent was all over her…and hers was definitely all over him.
She’d breathed a sigh of relief when Max parked in the garage and led her up the same back stairwell she used during her “escape.” Before he could say anything, she fled to the bathroom and locked the door.
Not that a lock would stop him. If he was determined to get in, nothing could keep him out.
But something told her Max would never cross that line. He’d been possessive—even aggressive—tonight, but she never felt threatened. If anything, she felt treasured. He handled her with a gentleness that took her breath away. When he gazed at her most secret, sensitive flesh, there was something like awe in his eyes.
And when he kissed her there…
Her nipples hardened. Careful to keep her hair out of the spray, she angled her chest toward the water, which she’d adjusted to as cold as she could stand it. She could not go back into the bedroom aroused. A bubble of self-deprecating laughter caught in her throat. What would Max think if he knew she was resorting to cold showers to quell her body’s response to his touch?
He’d gloat for days.
Her knowledge of the lux catena was rudimentary at best, but even she knew what just passed between them wasn’t enough to complete their bond. The sexual element of the binding required a claiming of the most basic kind. Tonight, Max gave her exquisite pleasure, taking none for himself. Was that the act of a man bent on forcing an unbreakable bond?
She shut off the water and grabbed the same towel she used earlier, wrapping it around her and walking to the vanity. The mirror was fogged over, and she rubbed a circle in the glass with the side of her fist. The woman staring back at her was a stranger. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. She peered at her reflection. Did her mouth look swollen? Max hadn’t pulled any punches with his kiss. Her lower lip was sore.
She was sore between her thighs, too.
Pink tinged her cheeks. She’d never considered herself a prude, but exhibitionism wasn’t really her style. What came over her tonight? She whirled from the mirror and entered the closet. Max’s scent was strongest here, where his clothes hung in neat rows. She trailed her fingertips along a row of pants.
Who puts their jeans on hangers? He’d have a conniption when she put her mangled mess of mismatched hangers in here.
Whoa. She stopped in her tracks, her fingers frozen on a white oxford. They’d been intimate in a diner parking lot. That didn’t mean she was moving in with him.
His scent beckoned to her, and she pressed her nose against the sleeve of a blue button-down. It smelled of detergent, starch, and the dark spice that had drawn her since the moment she met him. She rubbed her nose against the soft cotton. His low, sensual voice rose in her mind. “You are a fever in my blood.”
Heat curled low in her belly. She pulled away from the shirt and went to her own sparsely populated section of the closet, rummaging around until she found her favorite jeans and a thin cotton shirt with long sleeves and a scoop neckline.
She felt him as soon as she stepped out of the closet. Max. His shadow blocked the strip of light under the bathroom door.
She held her breath. Silence stretched. The slightest sound, a faint brush against the wood, drifted through the door. After a minute, his footsteps faded into the other room.
He’d left without knocking. She waited for relief to wash over her…but all she felt was loss—as if a cloud had fallen over the sun. She removed the clip from her hair and shook it out, then dressed and brushed her teeth. Any wolf who got close enough would smell Max on her, but that didn’t mean she had to advertise what they’d done.
After one last glance in the mirror, she opened the door and stepped into the bedroom, pausing on the threshold, where she could hear faint clicking coming from Max’s office. A wave of shyness made her face heat as she walked toward the sound.
The desk in this office was smaller and less intimidating than the one in his study. Stacks of paper lined the edge. There was even an adding machine, its white tape rolled like a thick marshmallow. Max stared at a laptop screen, his fingers flying over the keyboard.
She leaned against the doorway.
“Come in, petite,” he said without looking up.
She drifted to one of the chairs in front of the desk and sat.
The blue screen illuminated his face, highlighting his high cheekbones and firm jaw. He’d exchanged his borrowed sweats and T-shirt for jeans and a black Henley, and a thick silver Rolex winked on his wrist as he typed. He clicked his mouse and closed the laptop while he studied her face. “How do you feel?”
Oh, God. The warmth in her cheeks intensified. “I’m fine.”
He looked doubtful. “Are you sure you’re up to this? Hallerton can wait until the morning.”
It was her turn to look doubtful. “If I go to sleep, will you wait until tomorrow to talk to him?”
“Ah, petite, you know me so well.” His teeth flashed.
Oh, my God—his mouth…those sculpted lips. Her heart sped up, so she searched for a distraction. “What is all this stuff?”
“Territory business.” He pointed at the various stacks of paper on his desk. “Fostering requests. Petitions for marriage. Invoices. Receipts.”
She stared at the teetering piles. “Is this what you do all day?” She’d pictured him sitting in his study like a king on a throne, ordering beheadings and terrorizing his subjects. She definitely hadn’t imagined him like this—part bureaucrat, part accountant. “It seems like a lot of work.”
“It can be.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched, the movement pulling his shirt taut against his pecs. “But I don’t do it alone. Dom handles the fosters.” Max’s mouth quirked. “When Remy’s not busy eating or admiring himself in the mirror, he keeps the books balanced.”
The mention of Remy made her remember something. “Why do you have a keypad entrance on your closet?”
“The walls are reinforced with steel. It’s the only room in the Lodge that’s completely fireproof. I keep the pack’s insurance paperwork in there.”
Huh. She’d expected something more…dangerous. “You pay for insurance?”
He raised an eyebrow. “The Lodge is over a hundred and fifty years old, it’s built almost entirely of wood, and it has twenty-two chimneys. Of cours
e I buy insurance. Besides insurance paperwork, I store other pack records we can’t keep in human courthouses. Birth certificates. Estate planning forms. Medical records.”
He made life at the Lodge sound so…normal. As if being the supernatural overlord of a werewolf pack was just his day job. She glanced again at the teetering stacks of paperwork on his desk. He must work every day like this, running his complicated empire.
“There’s a place for everyone here,” he said. “Including you.”
So they were back to that. “It’s not like I have a choice. Neither of us do.”
“You always have a choice.”
Disbelief left her speechless. Was he joking? She was almost afraid to ask—almost. “You’d let me walk out of here tonight, right now, even if it means you lose my Gift?”
He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t think you place so little value on your life, petite. The threat of someone else claiming you is very real.”
“Maybe no one will find out.”
“I suspect it’s too late for that, which is why I want to talk to Hallerton. His arrival is just a little too much of a coincidence for my comfort.”
Her stomach clenched. If Nathan knew about her Gift, why hadn’t he tried to contact her first? Had he and Jonah plotted to kidnap her?
“There’s another option,” Max said.
She gave him an expectant look.
His voice became gruff. “We could finish the bond…then separate.”
Her cheeks heated. “You mean…”
“Yes. You’d have to agree to sleep with me, but only once. But if you’re determined to separate once we complete the lux catena, I won’t try to stop you.”
An image of his dark head between her thighs sprang into her mind. Focus, Lizette. She cleared her throat. “Is that even possible?”
“The lux catena is a mystical chain, not a real one. Our lives will be permanently linked, but it doesn’t mean we can’t live apart. I would, of course, provide you with security. That’s non-negotiable.”
“Has anyone ever tried it before? Living apart from their mate?” It didn’t seem possible. Her parents used to spend every moment together.
A muscle jumped in his cheek. “I don’t know. I’ve never met a mated pair who wanted to.”
What had caused his sudden change of heart? His words didn’t mesh with his actions. “You sent Hunters to my apartment to drag me here. You forced me to share your room. Now you’re going to just let me walk out the door?”
“I won’t lie to you. It will be…difficult for me to let you go. And whether you want to admit it or not, your Gift makes you vulnerable.”
“If you were so worried about that, why let me leave in the first place? I lived alone in Albany for five years.”
“Because you needed that time. And because keeping you under lock and key would have raised suspicions. The quickest way to draw attention to a treasure is by building a fence around it. I also didn’t want you to feel pressured to Turn latents. I didn’t want that responsibility thrust on you too soon—or ever, if you choose not to use your Gift.” He leaned forward. “Most importantly, I knew that forcing you to stay might mean losing you. And I love you too much to ever take that risk.”
She looked down. “You shouldn’t say that.”
“Why not, bébé? Why is it so hard for you to believe someone loves you?”
Because I want to believe it. Because it will hurt too much if it’s not true. Because I think I might be falling for you, and it scares the shit out of me. She forced herself to look at him. “People don’t fall in love at first sight, Max. That only happens in fairy tales.”
His smile was tender. “You’re a werewolf, petite. Is it really such a stretch to believe in fairy tales?”
18
The steps leading to the Pit twisted a narrow descent into the bowels of the Lodge. Rumor had it the underground cavern predated the Lodge by a century or more, and, judging from the steps, Lizette believed it. The stairwell was so narrow she and Max had to pick their way down single file.
He went first, his big body moving gracefully down the treacherous stairs. Lizette felt like an elephant in comparison. Every tread was shaped just a little differently from the last. Carved into the bedrock of the Adirondack Mountains, they dipped in the middle where thousands of footsteps had worn away the stone. The only light came from torches set in iron hooks along the rough-hewn walls.
Lizette’s shoulder brushed one. She jerked away and almost lost her footing.
Max spun and caught her elbow, steadying her. “Careful, petite.”
“Why don’t you put electricity down here?”
He gave her a mild look. “It’s not supposed to be comfortable.”
The torch beside her sputtered and hissed. She pulled her elbow from his grasp. “Mission accomplished.”
“Watch your footing.” He turned and took the next few steps with ease.
Everything comes easy to him. Except that wasn’t exactly true. His face was ashen when he proposed finishing their bond and letting her leave. He was either a talented actor, or he really did care for her. She made her way down several more steps.
He said he loved her.
And he gave her options—something he’d never done before. Her choices swirled in her head. Leaving their bond incomplete seemed foolish in light of the unknowns. She believed him when he said she was vulnerable to kidnapping and a forced claim. Any would-be kidnapper would have to coerce her into saying a vow, but that could be easily accomplished with torture.
A shudder rippled over her skin, and her heart rate sped up.
That left finishing their bond. Ahead of her, Max’s broad shoulders stretched the fabric of his shirt. His dark hair curled against his neck. Her mouth went dry. He’d said she’d have to “agree” to sleep with him.
Where do I sign?
She took deep breaths to slow her breathing. For the past five years, she’d listened to her girlfriends bemoan their relationship troubles. “Sex complicates things,” they said. Now she knew it was true. Sleeping with Max would be easy. It was the leaving part that worried her now that she had a taste of how life with him would be.
She had a taste of him. If she left, she’d have to subsist on memory. She was used to being a loner, but did she really want to be alone forever? Max insisted she’d gotten it all wrong when it came to the lux catena. Was she running from a threat that didn’t exist?
There was also his confession in the diner. He told her he wanted to die when he thought she’d taken her own life, that he was already so bound to her they didn’t even need a ritual to make it official. He was even willing to let go of her—and her Gift—if it meant making her happy, which would be a tremendous sacrifice on his part.
And wasn’t sacrifice the highest form of love?
She put her chaotic thoughts on hold as they reached the bottom. Down here, the air was damp, the scent of earth thick and cloying. She thought back to her first visit to the Pit, when Max showed her the boy in the cage.
Sometimes places she’d visited as a teen seemed smaller when she went back as an adult, but the Pit didn’t suffer from that phenomenon. Massive pillars carved from solid rock soared from the stone floor to the arched ceiling twenty feet above. Torches ringed the walls, their flames glowing hazy yellow in the dim space.
In the center of the cavern the black cell stood like something out of an ancient torture chamber. Four Hunters sat on chairs positioned at each corner. Lizette squinted into the grayness to see a still form lying on the ground inside.
She sucked in a breath. “You could have at least given him a blanket.”
Max looked at her with his wolf in his eyes. “He attacked my mate. That he breathes is a miracle.”
Before she could reply, two Hunters stood and approached them—Dom and Remy, wearing identical wary expressions. They kept their eyes on Max’s chest.
They’re afraid. Max was cloaking his power, but it oozed from him nevertheless, rol
ling off his body like steam escaping an active volcano.
Max looked at Dom. “Has he spoken?”
“No, Alpha. But in a note he…”
“What?”
Dom winced. “He asked to speak with Lizette.”
A blast of icy air swirled around them. Goose bumps prickled Lizette’s skin. For crying out loud. She pushed past Dom and headed for the cells.
“Lizette!” Max grabbed her arm.
She whirled on him. “Let me go, Max.” She called up her own wolf. Behind Max, Remy paled. Dom shook his head, a warning in his gaze. She ignored them.
Max growled. “I don’t want you anywhere near him.”
So much for letting her make her own decisions. Time to put your money where your mouth is, Maxime. She tugged her arm from his grip. “You want me to stand by your side? Then stop trying to hold me back.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
She flung a hand toward the cell. “From a man in a cage?”
His wolf stared her down, but she didn’t flinch. If she let him walk all over her now, it would give him license to do it all the time. She needed to stand her ground.
Finally, he nodded. It was the tiniest inclination of his head, but it was enough. She met Remy’s eyes over Max’s shoulder. He looked like a man granted a reprieve just before an execution.
Lizette turned and approached the cell. The other two Hunters stood—one she didn’t recognize, but the other was Aiden. He moved in front of the door, a ring of old-fashioned skeleton keys hanging from his belt.
“Open it, please,” she said.
He looked at Max.
“Do as she says,” he rumbled behind her.
Aiden unhooked the keys and slid one in the lock. There was the harsh sound of metal grating on metal, then the squeal of hinges as he pulled the door open. Inside, Jonah twitched. His breath caught, and his heart rate picked up. He pushed himself to a sitting position.
“Stay down,” Aiden said.
Jonah raised his hands in surrender.