Page 52 of A Wolf for Winter

“What was that?” Allen demanded.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Allen’s heart drummed in his ears like the roar of a jet’s engine, almost drowning out the wild yapping of his wolf. That green spark had felt like a jolt of static electricity, but instead of hurting him, it had awakened something dormant within him. He felt light on his feet, straining towards something he knew he wanted but couldn’t name.

And then there was what Lilac had revealed. His Lilac, he dared to think.

The witch was fumbling with her dress pocket, extracting a tiny leather-bound book. She thumbed it open, slapping aside pages as her breath came in shorter and shallower with excitement. “The green spark is lost magic, more legend than anything else. But it marks a point in time, in destiny.”

She flipped around the book and held up an illustration to him: two characters touching hands and a green spark rising above them.

“It says at their first touch, ‘Two paths can become one, though the road narrows. For the strong of heart, the love outweighs all sorrow,’” she quoted. She flushed almost immediately after, realizing the implication.

Allen hardly dared to breathe. He had come to Annesley Valley to prove himself to the Coalition, to belong to a cause and a new brotherhood, and now an ancient piece of magic seemed to be offering what he’d truly wanted all along. A loophole around the “curse” on the Nemean wolf bloodline. If he was understanding Lilac’s blush and the book correctly, fate had just revealed to him his soulmate.

If he wanted her.

It wasn’t even a question. Though he had been born a Nemean wolf, the endless days of wandering and adventure promised them had never been his desire. What he’d wanted had always been out of reach—a home. Not one built of wood and mortar, but the kind made of flesh and blood. The kind whose heart beat in time with his, whose soul echoed his own.

He’d sought for a substitute of that love in closer familial ties to his brothers and sisters, only to be rebuked. He’d joined the military, seeking the fraternity it promised, and had found it. For a time. Until he’d been forced to reveal his true nature.

And now he was being offered his heart’s desire in the form of a beautiful, clever, misunderstood, and compassionate witch. A witch whose family would skin him alive if they ever found out what he was. He could kiss his ticket into the Coalition goodbye, too, for they would never ally with the Hawthornes or any of their supporters. And yet, the promise of Lilac was intoxicating. She was intoxicating. No wonder he had been drawn to her, that his wolf sang at the mere thought of her. He had known, on an instinctual level, that she belonged to him, and that he was lost to her.

For the strong of heart, the love outweighs all sorrow.

He fought to remain still instead of vibrating out of his skin. He had to be sure. “But I’ve touched you before. Why now?”

She thought for a long time, the flush fading as she concentrated. “Because . . . we’ve never truly touched. Not skin to skin. There’s always been clothing in the way.”

“Clothing’s been in the way, has it?” The words were teasing, but his tone was not.

He heard her heart pounding, skipping over its beats in wild hope. She was flushed in anticipation, her ivy-green eyes glassy with a mixture of hope and fear. She wanted him, and not just his body. Him, Allen Chase. The green spark was only secondary confirmation, an external cue to seize the singular opportunity before him.

“Lilac.” His voice was so quiet, as if the sound itself would shatter this precipitous moment. “Someone like me does want you. And has . . . for as long as I can remember.”

A tremulous smile wavered on her full lips. “You do?”

Allen lunged for her.

The distance between them disappeared, swallowed up in two thundering strides. Allen caught his woman around the waist, drawing her close as he bent down and crushed his mouth against hers. Her body molded so eagerly, so perfectly against his own that his heart thumped painfully in his chest in gratitude. Ripples of bone-deep pleasure coursed through his entire being. His wolf rumbled in delight as Lilac raked her fingernails across his scalp, tangling in his blond hair. She rose up on tiptoe, pressing her breasts against his chest and driving him wild with her tongue tangling against his own. She wasn’t meek, wasn’t shy. She claimed her desire and drove it into him.

Spirits above, this must be what it was like to be chosen. To be loved.

Allen groaned when her hands left his hair and slid to his neck. To his shoulders. His chest. His woman was learning the feel of him, the swells and ridges of muscle that were all hers now. Grabbing her butt, he hoisted her onto his hips so she could feel something else. Lilac moaned against his mouth, dragging her lips away for a shuddering gasp. Then her thighs tightened around his hips. He splayed his fingers wide, dragging them up her back until he could knot her long brown hair in his fist. A tug to the side and her beautiful neck was exposed for his teeth.

His wolf begged him to bite her. To claim her. To leave the little silver scar of their mating on that tender flesh between neck and shoulder so that any other beast would know she was spoken for. That she was his. He hadn’t believed he was even capable of leaving that tell-tale mark until the green spark.

But he wouldn’t, not until she knew the full truth of him. Soon. Now was not the time to do anything else but convince her he was completely under her spell.

Allen bent his head and only dragged his teeth against her flesh, relishing the moan she released. Her hips bucked instinctually against his, desperate for more. He obeyed, laying her back against the cushions of the bay window and digging his hard cock against her softer flesh. Lilac was surprisingly quick to sit up, and for a moment he thought he’d misunderstood her intentions, and then her mouth was fused against his. Spirits above, what she could do with her tongue—

He yanked on her hair again, always gently, and his lips roved down her neck to the collar of her dress. She laughed, a breathless sound, until his hand glided up over her ribs. Her sudden inhale made him freeze, a memory of what she’d said about Ethan not respecting her wishes flitting across his mind. Was this a boundary he was approaching? He controlled his desire, rasping, “Can I—”

“Yes,” she whispered.

His hand molded tenderly, reverently, against her breast.

“Allen.” Lilac arched into his touch.