by J. K Harper
8
I want you inside me, Wyatt. Now. The words seemed to hang in the room, their sweet invitation wrapping around Wyatt's brain and making it stop working. All he was right now was pure sensation, pure joy and rightness with Bryony.
His Bryony. His.
“Whatever you want,” he managed to say, his voice ragged. His cock throbbed, eager to be inside her. He'd been almost painfully hard for the last fifteen minutes.
His fingers told him she was ready. The soft moan deep in her throat, the way her eyes fixed on his with an intensity that seemed to connect them together, told him she wanted this just as much. He shoved away the tiny, lingering doubt that this was real, and went with the moment.
She rolled her thighs apart, tipping her hips up at him again. He groaned, feeling the fire roar through him. Feeling his wolf push at him to claim his mate, to bite her slender neck, to make her his. Her beautiful breasts, bare and soft and still glistening from where his mouth had feasted, moved up and down from the tempo of her breathing. Reaching up, he pulled her arms over her head and clasped her wrists in his hands, gently holding them to the pillow.
Bryony smiled up at him, her pulse banging in her neck as her spicy-sweet scent rose in waves, almost overpowering him with lust. “Now,” she reminded him, her voice half-command, half-laugh, all strong, sweet, sexy woman. Then, “Fucking right now, Wyatt,” she whispered in a ragged cry, all play gone from her face. Her voice shook, her body shook.
He thought his soul shook, too.
“Now,” he whispered back, spreading his weight on his knees between her open legs, and pushed inside her.
He almost howled with the stunning explosion of tight heat and the way Bryony's mouth fell open as she panted. She tilted her hips up more, to accommodate him. He slid inside, eliciting a small gasp from her as he pushed against the tightness.
“I'm sorry.” Her voice bumped as his thrust slid her over the sheets. “It's been a while.”
Wyatt stopped, making her cry out a soft, “No, don't stop!”
“I don't want to hear about anyone else,” he growled, tipping his head down to lightly nip at her ear, then her shoulder. “Just me.”
“Same back to you,” she retorted, though a moan underscored her voice.
Wyatt pulled his head back to look at her. Bryony's gaze was clear, even though her face was soft with her need. He nodded. “Deal,” he said in a low voice, before he abruptly thrust all the way inside her.
She gasped and arched her head back, meeting his stroke by pushing up toward him. Letting him fill her completely, the sweet moans coming from her lips telling him how much she liked having him there. He increased the rate, changed the angle, and never stopped the delicious slip and slide and thrust of this most ancient dance.
Fucking hell, but doing this with Bryony was the singular most amazing experience of Wyatt's life.
“Wyatt,” she gasped, low and throaty, her eyes wide on his as her hands pressed hard onto his back. “More. Don't stop. I'm close,” she said in a ragged warble. “I want to be looking at you when I come.”
He just nodded, keeping his eyes on hers, diving again and again into her soft heat. He felt his own orgasm spiraling up through him as hers began to rise as well, judging by how her pupils got bigger and her moans got faster and her hands clutched him tighter, fingers digging deep into his flesh as she hung on to him.
“Wyatt,” she moaned again, her head bucking and her mouth staying open, though her eyes never left his. Then something shifted in her gaze, her eyes unfocusing for a split second before coming back. “Yes,” she whispered suddenly, tilting her head to the side. “Do it. I know you will. I want you to,” she said softly, her words jolting between his thrusts.
“Bry,” he moaned out, knowing what she meant. Her neck was there, exposed for him.
As blinding hot lightning seemed to fill his every cell, he reached forward and plunged his teeth into the sweet spot between her shoulder and collarbone, just above where her wolf-angel tattoo spread behind her shoulder. His teeth pierced her, tasting the sweet ambrosia that was Bryony, as an orgasm so intense gripped him he wondered if he'd black out.
Bryony screamed, her face blazing with ecstasy. Soft, big wings exploded out from her shoulders, surrounding them both, carrying them together up to the ceiling as Wyatt was held inside her, her walls pulsing around his shaft as he spilled his seed into her, spilled his own scream into the room to mingle with hers. They floated up there for a moment, billowing waves of pleasure holding them up there, strong and real and so stunning that Wyatt thought his head might blow off from the joy of it.
Very slowly, very gently, they eventually sank back down the soft bed. The sensations lessened, gradually ebbing away. Wyatt carefully collapsed on top of her, half off to the side, holding her close to him as their gasps overlapped. Her sweaty skin beneath his, her intoxicating scent filling him, were his entire world as every other thought still stayed far away.
“Wyatt,” she said in soft, lazy voice, the sound already edging toward sleepy.
He chuckled, masculine pride rearing up in him even as he fought his own satisfied yawn. He meant to say, “So it was good, huh?” but instead he somehow whispered, “I love you, babe. Always have.”
He froze, shocked that the words had fallen out of his mouth without his permission. But he relaxed when she murmured back a sleepy “Mm,” snuggling into him and letting him hold her tight. More quietly, she added, “What was that? Did I really have—were those wings?”
Her curious tone was almost obliterated by another yawn. Wyatt grinned into her hair, taking a deep inhale to smell her and sighing back with contentment. “Yeah. You're special, Bry. My Bry,” he said in wonder, gently stroking her back.
“Sleep now,” she murmured against his chin, her entire body relaxed.
Holding his mate close, feeling everything right in his world, Wyatt did just that.
9
The streets of Serenity were very quiet in the middle of the night as Bryony drove through them, hands gripping her steering wheel so tightly she knew they must be stark white.
She and Wyatt had fallen asleep for a long time, woken again to have more incredible sex, then fallen back asleep in each other's arms. She'd vaguely heard him on his phone at one point, telling Mac to go home to his own mate, he was fine, nothing was going to happen. Now it was two in the morning, and here she was, sneaking away like a damn thief from the house of the only guy she knew without a doubt she, too, had always loved.
Just like he'd said to her. I love you, he'd whispered to her. She'd echoed the words in her head, said them back to him in her mind, but couldn't quite say them out loud. She'd known he would say them. But actually hearing them had been something else.
She was leaving Serenity. He couldn't just say a thing like that and expect her to stay. Swallowing hard, she forced herself to keep driving. But the feeling that something was terribly wrong increased the farther she got from Wyatt's house. She felt actually sick to her stomach, like something had crawled inside and burst over her entire body, making her queasy and weirdly nervous. It felt like she was getting the flu, but she knew that wasn't it.
Rather, she felt sick because she was leaving Wyatt.
She pictured him again, sleeping so peacefully in his bed. The bed in which she'd just shared the most intense experience of her entire life with him. An orgasm so powerful she would have sworn they'd been one with the entire universe, in conjunction with the wildness of sprouting wings, actual freaking feathery wings, from her shoulders, had made her see with clarity that it had been the right choice. Those wings had enveloped them with soft protection as they held one another and floated up to the ceiling of his room. That part, she hadn't expected. Her vision hadn't shown her anything about growing any darned wings. No, it just showed her that after Wyatt bit her, they would be mates, she would be deliriously happy, and then…
Then, there would be a lot of blood. And she would die.
She had fallen asleep with him, feeling incredibly safe in his arms, then had woken up with a start, cold dread already beginning in her stomach even while wrapped in his protective embrace. She couldn't let anything happen to Wyatt. Her being covered in blood? Fine. That, she could handle. But if she was somehow going to end up covered in blood and dying, she didn't want to do it with Wyatt there.
She'd felt his joy along with hers as he bit her and made her his. Just as he was now hers, she knew with certainty. And she couldn't ruin that by dying with him right there near her. He'd had enough of that in his life, with his mom being killed when he was so young. No, whatever was going to happen, even if it was like in that crazy prophecy he'd told her about, with that demon Khain he'd told her about all during their childhood, she knew she was tough enough to face it on her own. She'd proved that her whole life. She would face it on her own, could handle things on her own, and if she died—well, at least Wyatt wouldn't have to witness it. She knew Mac would take care of him. Then he could find another one true mate out there, and be happy. Right?
Deep inside, she knew it didn't work that way. She knew she was the only one for him. She also knew without a doubt that her visions were never wrong. Ever. Sure, she could make them not happen right at the moment by running way, but they came true eventually.
It was better this way. She'd go to her parents' house, spend the night there, then tell them goodbye in the morning. She'd have to stop by and see Maddy, too, and promise she would be back in time for the wedding. Even if that was a lie. Then she would go to the airport and grab the first flight she could back to California tomorrow—well, today, since it was already tomorrow—putting as many miles as she could between her and Wyatt before whatever scary thing she'd seen happening to her in her vision actually happened.
This, she thought with the same dazed realization she'd been having all night, must be what true love was like.
It was never wanting to see the one you loved be hurt.
She rounded the corner to her parents' house—then slammed on the brakes.
A giant beast out of a nightmare stood in the road, its red eyes glowing at her, an ugly evil radiating from its misshapen form.
Hello, stupid little girl, the ugly, taunting, horribly familiar voice in her head said. I'm so glad we could meet in person finally.
Despite herself, a small scream jolted from her lips. The suddenly braked car fishtailed, flinging her forward.
The last thing she saw before she cracked her head on the windshield, showering blood down all over her, was the creature pacing toward her as terrifyingly human words came out of its malformed mouth.
"That's right, you silly, stupidly brave girl. I am your worst nightmare, and I have come for you. And this is how everything will end for you." He came closer, laughing maniacally. “Forever,” he hissed.
Then everything went black as the seeping, cold feel of death surrounded her.
Wyatt woke out of a sound sleep with Bryony's scream echoing in his head. He shot straight up in the warm bed, snarling and lunging out toward whatever had gotten into his house and was attacking her. He tangled in the sheets and fell from the otherwise empty bed to the floor, cursing and snapping at nothing. Scrambling to his feet, he wildly looked around.
No Bryony.
He raced through the four rooms in a small house, calling her name. But she was gone.
Barely taking the time to yank on a pair of pants, he ran outside, looking around. Her car was gone. Running back in, he hunted around his bedroom until he found his phone, looking for a text or call from her.
Nothing.
The sense of her screaming, being in danger, still rang through him with an urgency he couldn't deny. He called her, body trembling with the mix of fear and rage. It went straight to voicemail.
The image of Bryony, covered in blood, with Khain standing over her lifeless body, filled his mind with such clarity that Wyatt bellowed out in shock, taking a stumbling step backward. He blinked his eyes and shook his head. The horrible sensation that she was in trouble still filled him. Frantic, he ran back outside and jumped into his car, blindly roaring down the sleeping streets.
Everything Mac had ever told him about having a one true mate slammed through his mind in what seemed like half a second. Wyatt had bitten Bryony, had claimed her, and she'd accepted it. He knew that. But somehow she was gone, and Khain had her. He knew that down to his bones. He had no idea where the hell they were, but the bed had still been warm. She'd only left moments before. Instinct prompted him to turn toward her parents' house, which was not far from his.
Just as he turned up their street, a horrifying scene met his eyes.
Khain, standing in the middle of the road, his shape that of a monstrous half-human, half-beast. Holding Bryony in his arms.
A bleeding, limp, seemingly lifeless Bryony.
Wyatt roared in fury, leaping out of his car almost before he stopped it, shifting into his wolf mid-launch.
The terrifying demon laughed. "Such easy pickings. Especially when I can feel her little visions and know where she is.” The nauseating smell of what had to be the Pravus, Khain's home, filled the air. “I'm going to win this one, you fool. None of you can stop me."
A snarl booming out of his chest, Wyatt leapt forward, his paws extended, his teeth bared. The demon laughed again—then did something completely unexpected at the last second. He threw Bryony at Wyatt, hurling her body through the air as easily and carelessly as someone would throw a stick for a dog.
Wyatt yelped and averted his leap at the last second, diving toward the ground so he could hit it before Bryony, catching her on his large wolf body. The impact with the ground almost knocked the breath out of him, but Bryony landed on top of him, her head barely avoiding a hard impact with the pavement and instead slamming with a painful whomp into his kidneys. Wyatt grunted, gently rolling so she would end up carefully on the ground.
But he had no time to check if she was still alive. Monstrous, thudding steps told him that Khain was striding toward them both. Growling, Wyatt leapt up, standing over his mate and facing down the hideous demon he'd known about all his life but never had seen personally.
Khain roared with nasty laughter again, and then met Wyatt in battle in the middle of the quiet suburban street. Wyatt slammed into him. It was like slamming himself into an immovable brick wall. Half of his breath seemed to squeeze out of him at the impact. With a vicious, desperate snarling howl, Wyatt flipped around on his back paws to rake his front claws over the demon's monstrous legs.
To his satisfaction, he drew an ugly black blood as well as a pained roar from the demon.
"You'll pay for that, you slimy wolfen." The growled words were now filled with a new anger.
"We'll see about that," Wyatt growled back, already lunging again.
Too late. The demon slammed out a huge hand, cutting at Wyatt's legs and sending him tumbling to the street. Far quicker than it seemed like the large, ugly thing that was Khain could move, the demon was on top of Wyatt, bearing down with his maw of steel-sharp teeth to rip out Wyatt's throat.
“You bastard! Get away from him!” The enraged female yell burst out from somewhere behind Wyatt.
Fearless, and strong.
Bryony.
The huge wave of relief that she was still alive made it almost okay that he was about to get killed by Khain. Almost. He'd really, really wanted to kiss his beautiful mate one more time.
There was a sudden, startled “Oof!” from above him as something thumped into the demon's body. The demon briefly jerked back, giving Wyatt just enough room to be able to twist up and leap back to his feet.
He took a second to look behind him. Bryony, his gorgeous, badass mate, was standing, even though blood still covered her face and neck, oozing down from an ugly wound on her forehead. She was barefoot, one shoe in her hand, the other hand still flung out forward like she'd thrown something.
Wyatt snapped his head back around to look at the
demon. Bryony's other shoe lay at his feet, having bounced off from where she'd thrown it at him.
“Daring,” Khain said in a sneering tone. “And stupid. But I will still have you, Bryony. All the one true mates will be mine—to be killed.”
Despite the harrowing moment, Wyatt couldn't help but admire his courageous mate. Damn, she was clever on her feet. And so fucking fearless, staring down the horror show that was the demon who had killed Wyatt's mother. Who was now trying to kill Wyatt, and his mate.
“Like hell you will,” Wyatt snarled, advancing on the demon.
But the demon again did something unexpected, suddenly snapping his head around as if he'd heard something. His huge, disgusting nostrils flared as he scented something. A snarl filled his features as he swung his huge head back to them. “Regrettably, it seems one of my captives thinks to flee. A very important captive. I need to get back and remind her there is no escaping the Pravus.” Just the way he said the name of his home made its awful smell increase. “But I'm not done with you yet. Either of you,” he added, pinning first Wyatt and then Bryony with a hideous glare. “We'll meet again, you pathetic losers.”
With an enormous flame abruptly shooting into the sky and a huge, resounding clang, the demon disappeared, leaving Wyatt and Bryony coughing and choking in the final burst of horrible smell.
His nose twitching, Wyatt allowed himself to morph back into a man, leaping toward Bryony to grab her in his arms, then stopping short to gently touch her head and examine her head to toe. “You're bleeding, are you hurt, what did he do to you?” he demanded in a blast of words all strung together and spat out in his hasty fear.
Bryony smiled at him, gingerly touching her forehead and wincing. “It's just a scratch.” Then she stared at him in wonder. “You came after me. You saved me, Wyatt. From that—that was him, right? Khain?”
Wyatt nodded, then shook his head. “You were about to hold your own with him. You threw a shoe at him, Bry. I—that was kind of badass. He's a fucking demon, and you were going to hold him off with your shoe.” He tipped his head to the side and gave her a look. “Damn, I don't know if that was the bravest thing I've ever seen, or the stupidest.”
