Page 28 of Blood and Trouble

“You’ll be okay, Trouble,” I said as I wrapped her around me, hauling her arm over my stomach and twisting my legs in between hers. “You’ve got me. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Eventually, the lulls between magical bursts grew longer. The sun set and rose and set again. I stayed in the bed with her, letting her feed from me, filling her when she cried out in agony. By the end of it, I could barely lift my head. My muscles burned, and my wolf whimpered from the loss of energy. But she burned with it. Arms shaking and cock aching, I took her one last time as the spell lifted completely. My knot latched us together, and I collapsed on top of her, my nose buried in her neck, her scent making me delirious—metal and citrus and sweat.

And me.

So much me, it should have activated the possessive, territorial beast that took whatever he wanted, regardless of the consequences. The urge to sink my teeth into the space between her shoulder and neck almost overwhelmed me, but I was too damned drained for that. I would have claimed her as mine forever. Instead, I heaved deep lungfuls of air and licked the column of her throat, swallowing those last remaining dregs of pheromones.

Fuck, she tastes good.

Too good.

“Lycan,” she whispered, blinking heavy eyelids she struggled to keep open. “Is it over?”

I forced myself to rise so I could meet her brilliant, glowing gaze, the normal sky-blue now a deep shade of aquamarine. Her other half lurked behind them, calling out to my wolf, beckoning him to make her feel safe and loved.

“Yes, Trouble,” I said. “It’s over.”

She hummed and ran her fingers through my hair, down the back of my spine and up again. The gentle touch made me shiver, my skin prickling from the mixture of tenderness and exhaustion. Without waiting for my knot to shrink, I curled my arms under her shoulders, tucked my face into her neck, and passed out.

Mine, my wolf whispered. Mine. Mine. Mine.

A bright, beaming light woke me, and I winced, groaning as I peeled my eyes open. The room reeked of blood and electric magic, and for a moment, I almost didn’t remember what happened. Ava sprawled on top of me, her head on my chest, her legs on either side of my hips, her arms tucked in on either side of my ribs.

I tried to stretch my legs without waking her, but I must have been hit by a truck because my muscles screamed at the movement. She moaned and turned her head the other direction, but the subtle shift jostled my cock, which was still buried inside her warm, tight cunt.

Fuck.

It rushed back to me.

The drunken night of poker.

The wedding.

The look in her eyes when I found her freaking out in the bathroom.

The force of her magic propelling me into the wall.

Her transition.

The pleasant buzz of her dreams lulled through my chest, just near my heart, and I remembered the connection we’d formed in the thick of it. It wasn’t a mating bond, thank the fucking Gods, but it was something similar. A ghost of a tether. A nascent little rope that had wound itself tight around my heart. All she had to do was tug, and I’d drop.

Had I ever felt anything like this before?

No.

It must have been the transition magic. I remembered going through this when I was about her age. The female who had helped me through it was older, and the next morning, she’d smiled at me, told me to be a good wolf, and left me alone to clean myself up. Her magic had stuck with me for a few hours afterward, enough to get me through the first shift, and afterward, it had dissipated, leaving only the cordial friendship we’d had before.

This was different. Its magnitude rattled the foundation of what I understood about myself. I didn’t want to get mated. But if I did, I could mate Ava.

No, no, no.

Get your shit together, Mitchell.

I tried to extricate myself from under her, but the moment I rolled her over and inched my cock out, she opened her eyes and curled her lips into a pouty grin.

“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Hmm.” She swiped a palm over her face and stretched. “What time is it?”