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Tate pinned her gaze with his own. “If it wasn’t for that bastard,” he began, his voice low and deceptively calm, “you wouldn’t have lost your family. You wouldn’t have been banished from your clan. You wouldn’t have been on your own from the age of twelve. So yeah, babe, I had something to do with his death.”
“Just how close a hand did you have in it? Were you there?”
“I was there. So was Luke and Alex.”
“I take it Alex’s wolverine is the one who chomped down some of Yasiel.”
Tate shrugged. “Wolverines often eat their prey.”
Staring up at him, she swallowed as the matter truly hit her. “You went all the way to Vancouver. You trespassed on Yasiel’s territory, knowing there was a risk you’d be seen and captured. And you mauled and killed him right in his cabin with the aid of both Luke and Alex.”
“That bastard needed to pay, Havana. He had no business walking this Earth after all he’d done.”
Oh, Havana couldn’t have agreed more. Her devil was delighted to hear that their old Alpha no longer breathed. The animal was also impressed and moved by what Tate had risked and done all in the name of avenging Havana. Especially since he obviously hadn’t done it to win points or he’d have told her about it himself. He’d done it because he was quite simply Tate—a man who’d never let someone who’d so gravely wronged his mate live.
This was what her inner devil wanted in a partner—a male who’d protect, treasure, and avenge Havana. And, feeling it was time, the animal let the mental door finally creak open.
And the mating bond snapped into place.
Pain knifed through Havana’s head and chest, dazing her. Her vision blurred and darkened for a few seconds, but then it righted, and the pain faded away. She looked at Tate, her lips parted, as peace fluttered through her like a warm breeze. God, she could feel him. Could feel his elation, surprise, relief, and—
She sucked in a breath as a blindsiding, elemental, all-consuming arousal whipped through her system and made her body surge to life. Her blood heated. Her skin tingled. Her nipples beaded. Her pussy spasmed.
Havana’s breaths came hard and fast as the visceral, violent need pressed her to lunge. Taste. Fuck. Bite. Pressed her to claim the male in front of her and brand him as her mate.
That was exactly what she and her devil planned to do.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Tate wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but their mouths clashed in a kiss that was hungry and savage. He buried his hands in her hair, keeping her mouth exactly where it was, refusing to release it for even a second.
Shock had slammed into him when their mating bond came to life, but the emotion had been washed away by warm, fuzzy feelings that were quickly overridden by such blinding need he fairly shook with it.
People weren’t exaggerating when they said that the mating urge was overpowering. It was like he was in the grip of a fever. One that heated his blood, made his flesh burn, and tightened his body. Possession coursed through him, hot and intense, demanding he claim this female for his own; demanding he leave an irrevocable brand on her.
Her arousal echoed along their bond, ramping up his own. Their bond. It had finally snapped into place, finally connected them on a metaphysical level. And now he could finally make her his. That thought only made him more desperate to be inside her.
He roughly clawed off her clothes, deliberately scoring the flesh of her chest, back, hips, and thighs. All the while, he kept on eating at her mouth. She tore at his own clothes, ripping them from his body, and he almost groaned in relief as his cock was freed from the confines of his jeans. He was so hard and heavy it actually fucking hurt.
Using his grip on her hair, he yanked her head back and forced her body to arch into his. Ignoring her hiss, he swooped down and latched on to her nipple. He sucked, bit, licked, and plucked at the tight bud with his teeth before moving onto the neglected nipple.
He could smell her need. He knew she was already slick and ready for him. That sent his hunger for her soaring through the roof, making his dick impossibly harder.
He abruptly pulled her upright. “Need to fuck you,” he growled, the words deep and guttural.
His cat urgently pushed him to take her now, to solidify their claim on her—he wouldn’t be satisfied until it was done. Neither would Tate.
Hungry for the taste of her, Tate devoured her mouth again as he began backing her toward the bedroom. Then suddenly she was out of his arms and standing a few feet away, her eyes holding a challenge. Yeah, he should’ve known it wouldn’t be that easy.
