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Goddamn headstrong,idiotic woman.Rage curled inside Kodiak, wanting to solidify. But he refused to let it.
If he did, he might lose control of the anger that was building its own pyre, bringing its own high-octane fuel to the party.
And fucking Tamaska? A match.
His body healed from the fight with the vampire as he stood, deep in the bushes, having watched her go. Having let her go.
For now.
She wasn’t going to walk from him. Not when there was so much unfinished business. Not when he’d tasted her, like he’d lapped her blood, laid claim. Marked her as his.
A human.
He shook his head as he moved slow, silent, steady through the bush.
What he needed to do was get back to his pack and deal with them. He needed to find the opal. He needed to protect her, punish her, claim her—
Fuck. He stopped, standing in the cool shade of the bush. The canopy of trees and plants that mingled from the park’s edge with the gums and scrubby native bushes washed over his flesh.
Doing anything with that anger in him wasn’t going to help.
He needed it under control.
And that was hard when she was there. Somehow.
Her scent swam around him, more than it should. If he breathed in, he could taste her, track where she’d been, right up to her getting in the cab.
Inside his wolf pushed to track, follow the trail, keep her in his sights and a hand’s reach from his touch. It wanted to brand her all over again.
And his own scent mingled with hers, too.
Even standing still, even closing his eyes and lifting his face up to the sky, the urge to go after her beat strong in his veins.
His wolf wanted her as much as he did.
And she’d pushed him away.
Said all those things that amounted to one thing.
Rejection.
It wasn’t something he was used to. When he chose a woman, even if they fought in the deepest, most erotic mating game, that woman he’d picked wanted him. There had been times his interest had been piqued, but the wolf in question hadn’t returned it. Or his wolf rejected against what his own flesh might want.
This time…
This time he wanted. Needed.
And this time he’d both tasted and won, been rejected and lost.
Seemingly lost, he amended.
Tamaska had walked, her words constructed to cut deep, but she’d paused, looked at him, a storm that held both desire and hate, a push and a pull.
It wasn’t that she was human. He’d already broken that fucking law. It wasn’t the revulsion in her from the shock. No, the thing that kept him in the bush instead of shifting and taking off after her, the thing that kept him from finding the nearest set of clothes he could and finding her, the thing that stopped him dragging her into him and teaching her just exactly who dominated who, was that other look.
Betrayal.
She looked at him like he’d betrayed her.
