Simple. As if anything about this is simple.
“Besides,” he adds with a frown. “If I were to let you go, what would happen if someone spotted you on your way back? I’ll tell you what would happen. They would kill you on sight.”
A million different questions still bubble inside me, tinged with sadness and fear. Out of all of it, the biggest question of all bubbles to the surface. “Why did you bother bringing me here ifthere’s no way out of this? Why not let them kill me and be done with me?”
That, he doesn’t have a quick answer to. I feel his indecision almost like it’s churning inside me. Is this what it means to have a fated mate? Feeling what they’re feeling?
“I don’t know yet.” He shoots up off the bed, unfolding his large body all at once and going to the door without another word. He doesn’t quite slam it closed, but he’s not quiet about it, either. The flip of the lock is the punctuation mark at the end of a sentence he couldn’t bring himself to deliver.
And now I can release a slow, shuddering breath. Even though he’s not in the room, I want him as much as ever, my body aching and tingling with desire. This isn’t the same as having a crush on some hot guy—it’s about as far away from a childish crush as anything could be. It is so deep, enough to make my skin feel hot and tight. I’m uneasy, fidgety, like I was at home.
And the inferno in my core hasn’t cooled down the slightest bit. My heart is about to burst out of my chest, and my blood races hard enough that I hear it rushing in my ears. I’m on fire, nerves dancing, like a coiled spring ready to pop.
I’m almost not even thinking as I slide down on the bed until my head touches the pillow that smells so much like my mate. So do the blankets and sheets, and I close my eyes, using that scent to pretend he’s with me while one hand slides down the length of my flat stomach until I’m cupping my swollen, slick mound.
Even that slight bit of contact makes my hips jump. I have to bite my lip to silence a helpless moan while my other hand cups my boob, flicking my tight nipple, adding to the electric sensations racing through me. This is him. This is him touching me, exploring me. Memorizing every inch.
Slowly, I stroke my bald lips, remembering the way it felt to be in his arms. What it meant to be pressed against his hard,unyielding body. How would it feel to be pinned to the bed by him? My back arches when I delve deeper into my dripping folds before finding my swollen, aching clit.
Pleasure radiates through me, starting at that bundle of nerves, which I circle with my fingertip while my hips grind, and I imagine it’s Kyran touching me. Licking me. The scruff on his cheeks would scrape my skin, wouldn’t it? My teeth sink into my lip, but I don’t think that will be enough to hold back what’s building. He would know exactly what to do, wouldn’t he? How to push every button until I explode.
In my mind, I see him between my thighs. His dark eyes, looking up at me while he forces unspeakable pleasure on me with his tongue. My finger moves faster, and my hips jerk now in a frenzy. So good. It’s all so good.
My toes curl and the tension builds until I’m gasping for air, working myself faster, the way he would. I can almost hear his hungry grunts in my head when the dam finally breaks, and I shatter, collapsing onto the mattress while wave after wave of bliss washes over me. My body is loose, limp, and I release a deep breath before opening my eyes again.
And all at once, the relief is gone, replaced by something hollow in my gut. I don’t know how it’s possible to go from the height of ecstasy to the depths of despair so fast, but that’s exactly what happens. Tears fill my eyes and roll down the sides of my face because it wasn’t real. He’s not here. I can’t cuddle up to him now. I’m on my own, and I always will be.
Until I’m killed, anyway. Because he is definitely not going to accept me. There will be no mating bond. He cares about his clan. If anything, it makes me want him more, even if it means the end of me.
But then I don’t deserve anybody like that, do I? Somebody with integrity and strength. Somebody who cares about others.Not when I’ve so completely crushed someone who didn’t deserve it. I don’t deserve Kyran. I don’t deserve anyone.
I wish I never left home tonight. The thought of being back there now, safe and secure, makes me roll to my side and curl into a ball. What I wouldn’t give to be in my bed, in my room, where my biggest problem was getting Nora to trust me. Now, I’ll never get the chance to make it up to her. I’ll never have a chance to do anything again. The cold, hard truth makes my tears fall faster than ever.
All the while, I’m haunted by the scent of the mate who doesn’t want me.
Chapter 4
Kyran
Nothing like a nightwith no sleep to make a man feel worse than he did when he first laid down.
I have spent more hours napping on this sofa than I could possibly keep track of. Normally, all it takes is flipping on the TV and stretching out to turn off my lights. I’ve slept through more movies than I’ve managed to stay conscious for.
Last night, though? Every time sleep drifted too close to me, it flew away again. Like smoke drifting through my clenched fist.
Now I wish I had never tried in the first place, because I feel like I’ve been run over by a freight train by the time dawn arrives. With it comes the twittering of birds, the joyful and busy skittering of animals around the cottage. I am not in any mood. My eyes burn with exhaustion, and my head weighs a ton as I force myself to sit up. She had a quiet night without a single sound coming from my room. I was listening, too. What else could I do? Either she passed out or was as sleepless as I was, but too afraid to move or make a sound.
She should be afraid, because there is no way this ends well for her. I certainly had enough time to think it over in the hours since I first laid down. I don’t see any way out of this that would make everybody happy. It just can’t happen.
And once again, for the hundredth time, it doesn’t matter to my bear. There is pain in my chest, literal, physical pain that comes with imagining putting the little wolf to death.
For the first time since last night, the bedsprings creak. The sound pulls me to my feet at once so I can unlock the door for her and offer an awkward greeting. “Good morning.”
She looks surprisingly sympathetic, considering I have to kill her after rejecting her. “You don’t look like you believe it’s such a good morning.” At least she looks like she slept. There’s none of the telltale circles under her eyes the way I’m sure there must be for me.
Only when I notice how she’s fidgeting under the blanket do I snap back to reality. “Come on. You probably have to use the bathroom.” Do I linger in the doorway while she gets up? Who wouldn’t? When she peels the blanket back from her perfect body, I have no choice but to watch, to take in every line and every curve. She glows in the morning sunlight, drawing my attention to a freckle on the flat plane of her stomach, a faint scar on her shoulder. The wound must have been serious if it left a scar.
When her sharp green eyes meet mine, I have no choice but to look away. “You’ll probably want to take a shower, too,” I murmur, leading the way to the bathroom while she follows at a skeptical distance. She’s not stupid, this one. She makes stupid decisions sometimes, but she’s got a brain in that gorgeous head.
