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The forest blurred around them,taking her back to the last time she was slung over Draven’s shoulder and being hurled toward his cabin. So much had changed since then. For one, she didn’t hate the man beneath her. She loved him so irrevocably that she couldn’t imagine life without him. Sure, she may play at the fact that she hated his barbaric ways, but the truth was he may have assholish tendencies, but he was her dark knight. The one who killed anyone who looked at her the wrong way but also gave her the tools to do it herself, should she be so inclined.
She’d been nervous about facing the Alphas and elders, but more than them, she’d been nervous about facing the members of the Moon Ridge Pack. There had been no doubt in her mind that the Alphas would eventually have come around and supported their cause. Rieka wouldn’t have allowed it to happen any other way. Moon Ridge wasn’t up to Rieka, though. She would have no say when it came to the pack accepting Draven and Flora as their Alpha and Luna. Draven wouldn’t admit it, but he would be devastated if when all was said and done, Moon Ridge didn’t accept him as their Alpha. He’d dreamed of being his father’s successor since he was a child. It was all he’d ever known. Then she’d shown up and thrown that all to hell.
Flora was relieved that things turned out as well as they did. But she got the feeling that what came next was bigger than her and Draven. Bigger than Emery and her child. It was the whole of the supernatural world that was shifting and none of them would walk away unscathed.
As if he sensed her inner turmoil, Draven slid his hand up the curve of her ass, but instead of delivering a pinch or tap that would send a bolt of lighting straight to her clit, he buried his hands between her legs and teased her slit with the tips of his fingers.
Flora let out a soft moan and wiggled against him. “I’m starving, you overgrown buffoon. Couldn’t you wait until we get to the house, and I’ve had my share of your beefy neck?”
“With you? Never.”
She let out a laugh as they rounded the last bend before reaching his secluded cabin. Instead of taking her around the back of the house that would lead into the basement door, he lowered her onto the top step of the front porch.
Draven’s hand didn’t leave the spot between her legs as he set her down, allowing her robe to bunch and drape from her hips. He slipped a single finger inside her. “You think my neck is beefy?”
She let out a whimper moan. “Like a perfectly cooked ribeye. Although I suppose I prefer my meat on the rare side, nowadays.”
He lowered his head and assaulted her lips with his. He pressed his tongue past them and stole her breath from her. When he finally allowed her to come up for air he whispered against her thoroughly kissed lips, “I can feel your tension, Bubbles. What is swirling around in that mind of yours?”
“Nothing of consequence.” She lifted up onto her tiptoes and sucked his lip between her fangs, nipping it so she could have a small taste. “Show me the way home.”
“Not until you tell me what’s wrong. We aren’t starting our life together with anything between us.” He ran his hand up her arm and cupped her cheek. “Is it the memory you saw earlier? What happened?”
The memory was nothing important; just another instance where the King had taken his liberties with her. Fed from her. Questioned her. Made her forget. Flora didn’t want to burden Draven with any more than he already had. Because she knew her mate would forgo everything to keep her safe from King Lewyn, and if he left now, it would likely be Draven’s life that was forfeit. Not hers. She knew how the vampires worked, and the army they had at their disposal. She wouldn’t risk Draven’s life over a few compelled memories.
“Well in that case…” Flora grabbed for where the robe crossed his chest and slid it from his shoulders, allowing it to fall, only catching on where his hand cupped her pussy.
A growl rumbled from his chest, and she clenched around his fingers. “You’re playing with fire, Flora. I’m trying to be there for you, but if you think for a second I won’t push you to your knees and fuck that beautiful mouth of yours until you are choking on my cock and begging me to let you speak, just try me.”
Gods, she loved when he let that filthy mouth of his do the talking. It meant he was riled up enough to forget the world around them. And that’s exactly what she wanted with him right then. A moment for themselves before they were at the mercy of the supernatural world.
Flora debated dropping to her knees herself and forcing him to make good on his threat. The thought of sucking his cock made her stomach drop and her clit tingle, but ultimately, she wanted to see his home. Their home. More importantly she wanted to make it theirs.
“How about we step inside and you show me our home and then I’ll gladly drop to my knees and worship your coc—?”
Before she could finish, pain throbbed through her temples and her words became a jumbled mess of whimpers and incoherent syllables. She slammed her eyes shut and pressed her head into Draven’s chest, trying to ease the pain.
But nothing could stop compulsion.
The images played out like a movie in her mind. More memories of the King’s sick spy games.Find out what my wife knows. Forget. Find out who Sloane is meeting. Forget. What is she hiding from me? Forget what you saw here. Forget. Forget. Forget.
Kill Sloane.
Flora sucked in a sharp breath, nausea rolling through her.
Kill Sloane.
No. This couldn’t be real.
Emery was her best friend. There’s no way she was responsible for her sister’s death. The King wouldn’t do that. He didn’t have a reason. Not that she could see. Not that she could remember. She hadn’t found anything. None of it made sense.
She couldn’t have killed Sloane.
Flora pleaded with her body to listen to her, to open her eyes so she didn’t have to watch as she entered the barn. Sloane was there waiting for her. Gods, she’d forgotten how much she looked like Emery. There was no doubt they were identical, aside from the resting bitch face that was a constant on Sloane.
Nothing was as she remembered. Her mind must have conjured up another story after the King had compelled her to forget, because what played out in her mind wasn’t what she told Emery and August. Sloane whispered with someone and then tipped back a vile of dark crimson liquid, there was a flash of light and then silence. Flora climbed the ladder to the loft and Sloane’s eyes grew wide when she saw her.
“What are you doing here?” Sloane’s voice was panicked. “You weren’t part of the plan.”
