Authors: Stacey Brutger
Now he was paying the price.
She had seen him bulk up and literally rip a man’s heart from
his chest. Instead of running screaming from the room, she’d taken a stake to
the bastard and finished him off.
Now, as he looked at her beneath the coating of his blood, he
saw the paleness of her skin and the slight tremor she tried so hard to hide.
He wanted to attribute them to the aftermath of battle, but he couldn’t dismiss
them that easily, not with Weston’s words burrowing in his chest like poisoned
darts.
If she was hurt or in further danger, he needed to know. She
was his concubine. It was his right as her champion. But he recognized the
stubborn expression on her face, the obstinate tilt to her chin. If he pushed,
she would run and he was in no condition to protect her, let alone chase after
her if she thought to leave him.
Pain spasmed in his chest, and he clenched his fists to
prevent himself from snatching her up and refusing to release her.
Ever.
So he relented. His lion protested and slashed at him, but he
ignored the beast, too. Soon, though, she would understand. “Will you be in any
danger?”
“Danger? No.”
The evasive answer concerned him more, but what choice was
left to them. “Do it.”
Her gaze flicked up to his in surprise and gratitude.
Merrick would take that, anything to indebt her to him.
She inched closer as if leery of him.
Maybe she should be.
The lion in him wanted to pounce and claim this proud
warrior who would battle an ancient vampire on her own to protect the pack even
when she had to know she had no hope of winning.
As she lifted her blade and touched it to her flesh, he
halted her. He lifted her wrists to his lips, watching her all the while, waiting
for any sign of fear.
He only saw trust.
Trust he didn’t deserve if she knew what an offer like that
meant to shifters. But damned if he would tell her.
Not until the deed was done.
Her skin was warm against his lips. Unable to help himself,
he licked her wrist. He saw her shudder and, despite his injuries, if he thought
she wouldn’t have protested, he would’ve tried to take her there and then,
audience or not.
He and Beast was in agreement in that regard. As soon as he
got her alone, he would put thought to action. His fangs lengthened and sank
into her delicate wrist.
The first taste of blood spilled into his mouth. He was
prepared to fight Beast for control. Instead, his body hardened with lust so
potent that had he not been on his ass already, the taste of her would have
knocked him there.
She flinched as his fangs sank deep, but held steady. He was
a bastard for marking her this way without her knowing what it meant, but he couldn’t
give up the chance to claim her as his own.
Permanently, for all of the pride to see.
T
rina
expected pain.
She expected to catalogue the results in a clear, analytical
matter.
Merrick stared into Trina’s eyes while his fangs pierced her
flesh and it was the sexiest thing she’d ever experienced. Each pump of her
heart sent more blood rushing through him, and she felt the very core of him.
His desire to find that special someone, the deep yearning
to be mated matched her own so closely that it knocked her for a loop. He was
so imposing, so demanding that she would’ve never guessed part of him felt so
alone.
Each pull he took of her blood sent the craving for him to a
feverish pitch. She swayed toward him.
Only to have the smell of his blood dull the haze he cast over
her with his wicked touch.
Brought her back to painful reason.
He’d had enough blood. Time for the next stage. She let
loose her magic, and gave herself something else to focus on instead of finding
a way into his pants.
The magic followed her blood trail without prompting. The power
instantly sucker punched her, like someone was pressing on her chest. She had
five minutes, ten tops, before she lost consciousness.
The magic-infused blood spilled through his body, hit the
lining of his stomach and splashed into veins and organs in search for the
damage.
The neck was the worst, so she centered her attention there,
rebuilding tissue, taking special care of the nerve endings, pushing for his
flesh to knit together.
But the blood burned out as fast as she used it.
It wasn’t enough.
He needed more.
A growl rumbled up Merrick’s throat, and she grabbed his
wrist, mimicking his hold on her. “You need to take more.”
The words felt stilted, her lips stiff. What she was doing
to him had to hurt, the burn of magic was crippling to those who didn’t know
how to channel the pain, but he did as told all the while studying her every
expression.
Only when the blood escaping his wound finally slowed and
stopped did she release her hold on her magic. The backlash hit her like a
fist. Her vision dimmed. Sounds went next.
Scent and touch were all that remained, sharpening almost
painfully. Her grip tightened on Merrick, his skin so warm against her much
colder hands that it burned. Musk tempted her closer. Only when she heard his
steady heartbeat beneath her head did she allow herself permission to collapse.
* * *
Trina woke to motion, reluctant to open her eyes and lose
the delicious sensations of peace surrounding her. And they would vanish, a
fairy tale she couldn’t allow herself to believe or her heart would break when
she opened her eyes.
Reality intruded at the steady beat of Merrick’s heart next
to her ear. Although it was very caveman of him, part of her enjoyed the
attention, enjoyed the feeling that someone cared even if it was only an
illusion. He was only fulfilling his end of the bargain to protect her.
Whatever fast healing she normally had vanished, burned away
when she used her magic on Merrick. Even though every brush of air on her skin
hurt, she didn’t regret her choice.
She kept her eyes closed and took stock of her injuries, noting
that they were mostly bruises. Nothing broken. No cuts. All her limbs seemed to
be in working order. Not bad, when she expected to be dead.
The bite!
She twisted her wrist then shuddered, sucking in a sharp breath
at the rush of sensations. It wasn’t pain or anything that easy. She gingerly probed
the abused area, remembering what it felt like to have Merrick’s fangs pierce
her flesh. When her finger brushed over one of the sensitive scabs, pure lust
shot to her core.
No foreplay.
Her body craved sex, demanded to feel him pressed against
her more intimately.
She quickly jerked her hand away from temptation…er,
danger.
Horror hollowed out her chest. What had her magic done to
them?
Merrick was so going to kill her.
“Are you sure you should be carrying me? It seems to be becoming
a habit of yours.” For which she was grateful since she wasn’t sure her legs
would hold her. She wanted to put it all down to blood loss, but knew that
wasn’t the whole truth. It was him, too. He affected her more than any man had
a right.
Absolute silence filled the air, and she wasn’t even sure
his chest moved. She opened her eyes. Then wished she hadn’t when the meager
light felt like railroad spikes being rammed into her eye sockets.
“You said you wouldn’t be hurt.”
Trina winced at his tone. She would take his growl over that
rough, accusing voice. “Well, not really. I said I wouldn’t be in any danger.
There is a difference.”
A snarl rumbled in his throat. She was so close to him she
could feel the vibrations throughout her body.
She froze.
That was not a friendly sound. Sure, she didn’t think he’d
hurt her, but why make a target of yourself. Sometimes, with men, it was better
to keep silent and let them assume they’d won the argument.
She half-expected him to change into his beast. She could
almost feel the lion beneath the surface and placed her hand on Merrick’s chest
where she sensed him waiting, absently brushing her fingers against him to
soothe them both.
When they came to a stop, she risked opening her eyes…to
see they stood outside their bedroom.
That made her sit up straighter.
No way could she be alone with him, not with the heat from
earlier still thrumming through her body. “Put me down.”
Trina was surprised when he obeyed. He lowered her slowly,
brushing her body down the length of his until all she wanted was to crawl back
up in his arms.
Which only served to annoy her more.
Distance.
That’s what she needed.
Time enough to give whatever her magic had done to fade. She
found her hands pressed against his chest, her nails slightly digging into him,
wanting more than anything to touch him skin to skin and brush herself against
him as if she were some damn cat in heat.
His hands slid down her back, brushed her butt then moved
around to her hips. His fingers tightened for a second, lingering, before
reluctantly releasing her.
She was relieved when he pulled away as she wouldn’t have
had the strength to do it herself, not with him pressed up against her, his
body hard and ready to take her.
But as the distance between them grew, disappointment struck
so hard that she couldn’t look him in the face. She whipped her hands behind
her and scooted away from him. When her back came to rest against their bedroom
door, she leapt away as if it had reached out and pinched her on the ass.
She grabbed the first desperate idea that popped into her
head. “We need to do the track and trace.”
“You need to rest. You passed out not ten minutes ago.” Merrick
stepped toward her than halted when she took a hasty step back.
“We need to find out how a vampire entered the Den full of
soldiers without being caught.”
Merrick opened his mouth to argue with her when Victor
spoke. “She’s right.”
“I won’t allow it.” The man before her bulked up, whirling
on his second-in-command. Trina quickly stepped between them, her heart
pounding, but not from excitement or fear.
No, it pounded with the realization that she would have to
leave. The thought of leaving them, leaving Merrick, shot her stomach up into
her throat until breathing grew difficult.
“Leo.” The use of his title caught his attention. She’d
never expected to say the full two weeks. Wished, wanted, but never expected.
So why did the thought of leaving devastate her?
She swallowed twice before she could speak. “You’re trying
to protect me, but in doing so, you’re putting everyone else in danger.”
Trina took a deep breath, forcing her lungs to work despite
the weight pressing down on them. “I’ll leave. I’m giving you notice as you
requested in our agreement.”
Merrick’s eyes narrowed on her. She recognized that look. It
was the look of someone who was going to do something bad for your own good.
“It doesn’t matter if you leave or not, the war began when we killed a vampire
on shifter land. His twin has probably already reported the news back to the King.
Things have gone too far. You were just the catalyst.”
She wished it were that easy, but revealing the whole truth
would only put them in more danger. She cared too much to do that to them. They
protected the borders and Oz. They would soon become the first defense in the war
that she’d brought to their doorstep.
Her being there only complicated things.
The least she could do was live up to her bargain with him
before she vanished, which meant finding the one who’d betrayed them. “Then
Victor should fetch the boy so we can get started. Weston can collect the amulet.
Merrick and I will clean up and meet you in the library in five minutes.”
Without giving them a chance to protest, Trina whirled and
entered the bedroom. She was conscious of Merrick following closely behind by
the way her body lit on fire at his nearness.
The door shut with a near-silent snick.
Her palms itched to be alone with Merrick, take the time to
say good-bye and maybe create a few memories to take with her to cherish and
get her through the coming hell.
She took another step forward to put actions to words then
halted. “What’s all this?”
Dozens of boxes covered the bed and a deep unease spread in
her gut.
“You needed clothes.” Merrick shrugged as if his words were
answer enough. He gazed at her, and she swore he looked disappointed in her
reaction.
His explanation made sense, but her unease only increased. Thoughts
of taking advantage of Merrick morphed into thoughts of protecting him.
They were not alone.
When Merrick reached her side, she held up her hand. She
didn’t feel the bitter cold she associated with danger, another sign her power wasn’t
to be trusted anymore. Merrick inhaled deeply, and she knew he picked up on
what she’d noticed when they entered.
Someone else was in the room with them.
She wouldn’t have suspected anything if it wasn’t for the
subtle flavor of foreign magic on the air. It was barely there, almost like the
perfume that clung to a wizard if they didn’t block it from others.
Or maybe she noticed it because she was just plain suspicious
and had been on the run so long that she automatically checked each room she
enter.
Trina relaxed and touched Merrick’s arm.
“You can come out now.”
Nothing happened for a brief second. Then the wizard boy
she’d met from the kitchen wiggled out from under the bed. The pale expression
belied the way he straightened and stood before them.
Almost as if he expected them to execute him on the spot.
Merrick tensed under her hands, and she was able to all but touch
his outrage at having his room invaded.
“Explain yourself.”
Drew flinched at Merrick’s harsh tone. The boy’s gaze flicked
to hers then resolutely stared at the door behind them without speaking.
“Merrick, you’re scaring him.”
The corner of his eye ticked at her words. When she would’ve
taken a step forward, he put his clawed hand on her arm.
“Don’t touch her, you bastard.” Drew launched himself forward,
a blade clenched in his fist.
Merrick caught the bony body hurtling toward him with little
effort, knocking the knife to the floor in the process. The boy kicked and
punched, but his arms never reached his target.
“Be still.” Merrick shook the teenager to emphasize his
point, making the kid more desperate to escape. Not above using the stink of
fear on the kid, Merrick hefted him higher and bared his fangs, a displeased
rumbled rising at the back of his throat.