by Quinn Loftis
“What’s the archive room?”
“It’s a room in the basement where we keep all of our records. The entire history of the werewolf race is contained there. A member of my family has acted as the pack historian for centuries, and now it is my turn,” he explained “My room is down there too. But that’s not where I’m suggesting we go,” he added quickly. “There’s a main room at the bottom of the stairs where most of the texts are kept.”
“You’re going to explain this mate business in more detail, right?” She truly wanted to know. Wadim could feel her eagerness. She longed for it to be true.
He nodded. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Anything?”
“Yes, of course. I have no secrets from you. We are true mates. Not that I could keep anything from you anyway,” he said grinning and tapping the side of his head.
“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll come with you to talk.”
It took everything he had not to throw his arm up in victory. He held out his hand to her, needing to touch her. After a long pause, she slipped her small hand in his. Wadim turned so that she couldn’t see his face. His eyes closed and he focused on the incredible sensation of her skin against his. Mine, his wolf growled. Indeed, he thought, she is ours.
He led her to the stairs, and then down into what all the other pack members liked to call the dungeon. It didn’t look like a dungeon, of course. It looked much more like the library of…well…an ancient supernatural being. The walls were lined with ancient leather bound books, and plush worn leather armchairs were scattered throughout the room. After a few awkward moments, he reluctantly released her hand and let her roam the room, looking at the books and then the tables with their intricate carvings. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He had to make himself stand still because his wolf wanted to follow her around like a puppy and attempt to lick any part of her he could reach. Good grief, man, pull it together, he growled at himself.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, hoping that would keep him from grabbing her and sitting her in his lap, where her neck would be positioned very close to his mouth. He felt his canines lengthen at the thought of marking her. He snapped his mouth closed and willed them to go back to normal.
Zara pulled out a chair at one of the tables and looked up at him. “Okay, so the mind link thingy is one way that you say that you know we are true mates. I assume this means no other wolf will be able to hear my thoughts.”
Wadim growled. “No, you’re mine.”
“Okay, so that was a little weird and caveman-ish,” she said and he could tell she was relaxing a bit.
“Sorry,” he grumbled.
“What are the other signs?”
“You have a scent only I can smell.” She blushed, causing her skin to heat and intensifying that smell. Wadim closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “And it’s mouthwatering.”
“Again, weird. Even a little weirder, actually. But out of curiosity, what do I smell like?”
His eyes opened and landed on her. He knew they were glowing by the way her mouth dropped open. “Caramel and toffee,” he practically moaned.
She looked a little afraid, which he didn’t like.
“Forgive me, Zara. I know this is all new to you. I’m fighting instinct and it makes my wolf edgy.”
“And no one else can smell me?”
“Well they can smell you,” Wadim responded, “but they can’t smell what I smell. Like if you stunk like body odor, then obviously they could smell that, but they couldn’t smell the toffee…I mean, not that you would ever stink…I’m just saying…it’s different…never mind.” His voice faded and he growled something to himself that Zara didn’t catch.
“What’s the other thing that confirms we’re mates?” she asked, putting the poor wolf out of his misery.
Wadim hesitated briefly before pulling his shirt over his head. Taking it on faith that his markings had indeed grown, he turned so that she could see him. He wasn’t a full dominant so his markings didn’t come all the way to the front. They ran across his back, and now, he hoped, up to the back of his neck.
“These are mate markings,” he said pointing behind him. “Every male has them. When a werewolf meets his true mate, they change. Do they go all the way up to my neck?”
“Yes,” she said a little breathlessly.
“They weren’t up to my neck this morning. They changed. These markings will match the ones on your body.”
“I don’t have any markings on my body.”
Wadim turned back around and put his shirt back on. “Maybe you didn’t yesterday, but I’d bet every priceless book in this room that somewhere on your beautiful body, you wear my markings.”
Her face fell and her eyes filled with sorrow. “You wouldn’t think my body was beautiful if you’d seen it.”
Wadim felt as if she’d kicked him in the gut. She didn’t get it, but then, why would she? She wasn’t raised with her own kind. He scooted his chair closer until his feet were nearly touching hers. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He was less than a foot from her kissable lips. “Zara, you don’t understand exactly how powerful the true mate bond is. And you shouldn’t, I guess, because you didn’t grow up learning our customs. But somehow, I will prove to you that there is nothing about you that could ever make me not want you. Nothing.”
Zara felt as though she’d been holding her breath from the moment she’d heard his voice in her mind. Minutes before she’d run into him, literally, she’d been despairing over the thought that she would never have a mate. Now, here he sat, claiming he was it. She didn’t really doubt him. The evidence was pretty irrefutable. But she was so scared she’d be a disappointment to him. Inside, she was terrified. She was good at putting up a front to survive. She could appear tough when she needed to. But in reality, she was a kidnap victim. She was nothing more than food. She’d been used and fed upon until there was nothing left inside. Desperately, she wanted to be worthy of someone’s love. She wanted so badly to have a man look at her the way Decebel looked at Jen, to have a man touch her the way Fane touched Jacque, to have a man need her the way Costin needed Sally. Now she sat across from Wadim, terrified to hope that maybe he would be those things to her.
Suddenly, he was on his knees in front of her. He was so tall that even on his knees his face was level with hers. He looked tortured. His hands came up and rested on her thighs, giving them a gentle squeeze.
“I am looking at you that way. I am touching you that way.” His hands slid up her thighs and around to either side of her waist. “And I do need you more than you can possibly understand. Costin is a pup compared to me. I have lived centuries. I have waited so much longer for you than he did for Sally. Feel it,” he told her and then she felt the bond in their mind open and his emotions mixed with her own. She felt his desperation, as if he couldn’t breathe without her.
She looked at him, staring back at her with a longing that took her breath away. Wadim was handsome; his dark, wavy hair begged her fingers to run themselves through it. His gold eyes were intense and knowledgeable. He seemed to wear a perpetual smirk that was incredibly sexy and he looked like someone who loved to laugh. He was tall, but not wide and huge like Decebel or Fane. Wadim was solid, but built more like a swimmer than a football player. He was perfect. And she was so far from it.
She tried to look away but he grabbed her chin, surprisingly gentle in his touch considering the frustration in his gold eyes.
“Don’t look away from me, Zara. Over the years, I’ve watched my pack mates with envy as they found their true mates and now you’re finally here. I want to see your lovely face. Truth be told, I would like to see more than that, but I will be patient.”
He was teasing her. The frustration was still there, but she could tell he was trying to put her at ease.
“Wadim.”
“Hmmm,” he sighed. “I love my name on your lips.”
She couldn’t
help but smile, but it was fleeting. “If we are true mates, you deserve to know things before you commit to this.” She motioned between them.
“You still don’t understand. There is no if,” he said, his eyes narrowing. “You are mine—my true mate.”
“Right, got it. But like you said I didn’t grow up with your kind. I’ve only known humans and vampires. I’m not normal. I’m damaged. I mean, I cope mentally because it’s either that or roll up in a ball and cry for the rest of my life, but the damage is not just mental. Physically, I’m very damaged.”
“Not in my eyes,” he said gently.
She wanted to growl. He wasn’t understanding and he deserved to know before he was stuck with her. She figured most couples didn’t discuss such intimate things after only just meeting, but she wouldn’t be able to trust him until he knew the truth.
“You can tell me anything, Z,” he said gently as he leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers.
“Z?”
He shrugged. “I figured you’d like that better than some of the other things I want to call you.”
There was that smirk again. “You’re probably right,” she lied. But she didn’t want to think about those things until after she’d told him everything.
“Okay,’’ she took a deep breath. “But I need to stand up and walk. I can’t be touching you while I tell you.”
He looked miserable at the idea of not touching her. But he nodded and stood up, stepping back and giving her space.
Zara stood up and looked at the ground. She began to pace and wrung her hands in front of her as she began speaking “I was taken by the vampires when I was twelve. By that age, I had already developed the figure of a woman.” This was her way of saying she had big boobs, a fact that Wadim had obviously noticed. “And though most vampires don’t desire humans in any way other than food, there are always exceptions to the rule.”
Wadim was growling and when she looked up she saw that he had a death grip on one of the chairs. His eyes were glowing and his teeth had gotten very sharp.
In a way, it felt good to finally tell someone—anyone. But another part of Zara felt like running from the room. She had to keep going, to get it all out there. If she stopped, she might not start again, locking the pain deep inside where it had lived for so long. So she looked away and picked up where she’d left off. “Most of the vampires didn’t have just one or two people they fed from, most of them fed from any human available. I didn’t have such luck. When I was fourteen, a new male joined the coven in which I was enslaved. For whatever reason, he became infatuated with me. He fed only from me and he was extremely possessive. He wouldn’t let anyone else touch me. He even killed a few vampires who had ignored his order. He was old, powerful, and most of them wouldn’t challenge him. I lived in his room, if you could call it that. It had a bed. There were no other furnishings. I was allowed to leave, occasionally. I think those were the times that I must have looked particularly terrible. He fed upon me hard, but I think he was worried that I would die if he took too much. When he fed from me—” She stopped, steadying her shaky voice and attempting to slow her racing heart.
“Go on,” Wadim rasped, as gently as he could, fighting back his wolf as hard as he could.
When she looked at him, she saw the wolf staring back at her out of his glowing eyes.
“I would never hurt you, please go on,” he forced out.
“Maybe we should talk about this later,” she said, perhaps realizing for the first time just how possessive the males were of their mates.
He shook his head. “Now. Just get it all out now.”
“When he fed from me, he did other things. He was into pain and he liked hurting me while he touched me, or while he—” She swallowed hard. “He, he, ra—” Zara heard something crash against the wall. She jerked around to see Wadim picking up another chair and throwing it into the wall on the opposite side of the room.
“You don’t have to say it,” Wadim growled.
She waited quietly until she heard him in her mind.
“Mate, touch.”
Her eyes widened.
“Your touch is the only thing that can control my wolf,” he explained through clenched teeth.
She hesitantly walked over to him. As soon as she was within arm’s length, he snatched her around the waist and crushed her to his body.
“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect you.”
“Wadim, that’s not all of it.”
He froze but didn’t release her. “Tell me.”
“My body,” she paused and took a breath. “He liked torture. He liked knives. There’s not an inch of my skin that doesn’t bear a scar—a cut, a burn, a gouge. I’m not exaggerating.” Zara decided to utilize the bond and go for broke. She’d just show him so he’d fully understand why he would be disgusted with her. She pictured her body in her mind. She didn’t hide anything, though it humiliated her. She’d rather he know now than find out the first time they were intimate.
She showed him the cuts that covered her legs, front and back. Then she showed him her back where the vampire had, day after day, year after year, run his claws repeatedly over her skin, reopening scars and making fresh ones. They were big and rough and ugly. There were bite marks everywhere in between the cuts.
Her heart was beating painfully when she let her mind focus on her chest. Both breasts were covered in raised scars from cuts and bites. There wasn’t a smooth section on them. And the worst part, the part that sickened her— She squeezed her eyes closed as she remembered when Ander—that was the scum who’d ruined her—had taken away any ounce of dignity she might have had left.
“No man will ever want you now. Your body will forever belong to me,” he said as she cried not only from the pain, but from the grief of losing a part of her. Ander had rendered her breasts useless by taking away the very thing that would have allowed her to one day nurse her children. He’d deformed her for the rest of her life. He had taken a part of her femininity, and with it any self-esteem she might have had. He’d stripped her of any beauty that she might have had. Ander had wanted to ruin her for anyone else and he’d succeeded.
She pushed the images away and laid her head against his chest, suddenly exhausted. It was then that she realized he was shaking. She pulled back as much as he would let her and looked up at his handsome face. His eyes were closed and tears were running down his cheeks. He looked angry but broken at the same time.
“Wadim,” she said gently.
“Don’t,” he growled.
She felt her heart break. He didn’t want her. He sounded disgusted.
“Don’t comfort me,” he began again, his voice a little softer. “I didn’t protect you. I wasn’t there. I didn’t even get the chance to kill him.”
Wadim was sick, but not because he was in any way disgusted by his mate. In his eyes, she was beautiful. She was perfect and she was his. He was sick because she’d gone through that ordeal. She’d been hurt at the hands of another male and he had been unable to save her.
“How could you think I would be disgusted?” he asked as he tried to gain control so that he could talk to her. She needed him to be there for her in that moment, and he would do just that. It was critical. She was vulnerable and he knew that she felt worthless. But what she saw as disgusting, he saw as only beautiful. “Zara, baby, you’re perfect. You’re beautiful. Every part of you. The fact that you had the strength to tell me, to show me your biggest pain and your biggest fears, is incredible. You are incredible.”
Tears streamed down her face as she stared up at him in disbelief. He fell to his knees and pressed his face into her tender stomach. His hand grasped her hips, though he tried to make sure he didn’t hurt her. “How can I make you believe me?” He was frantic to get her to understand how he felt about her.
“Give me time,” she said softly.
He pressed his face closer to her and then pushed the edge of her shirt up. She tensed, but she didn’t push him
away or try to cover herself.
There were one-inch scars all over her stomach and bite mark scars accompanied nearly every cut. His wolf surged forward and took over before Wadim could gain control. His wolf was whining softly as he kissed each scar. He wanted to replace every painful cut and every painful bite with pleasure. He wanted her to feel attractive and desired. He wanted to kiss more of her, but with so much emotion and pain, he knew from this point forward they should take it slow. They’d dove right in, of that, there was no doubt. But now that she’d gotten her fears out in the open, he could take his time showing her every day how precious she was to him.
Wadim pulled her shirt down and stood up. He cupped her face in his hands and brushed away the tears on her cheeks. “My lovely, brave, Zara,” he breathed out in awe. “I’m going to kiss you.”
She nodded; her eyes—so big and expressive—stared back at him expectantly.
Wadim wasted no time. He leaned forward, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers. Her lips felt perfect against his. If he could, he would stand there and kiss her for the rest of their lives.
“Open your mouth,” he said, speaking through their bond,
She complied and gasped as his tongue swept past her lips and into her warmth. She tasted like heaven and felt just as good. She was trembling as he held her and he pulled her closer, wanting her to feel safe.
When he felt she’d been thoroughly ravished, he pulled back and looked down at her swollen lips. He smiled at her. “You’re too tempting.”
She laughed. “If you say so.”
“I do,” he said seriously. “You tempt me almost beyond what I can control.” He let her feel him through their bond and her breathing sped up. “However long it takes, Z, I will prove to you how much you mean to me and just how much both me and my wolf want you. And I mean want in a multiple of ways.” He winked at her and wanted to howl with victory at the smile she gave him.
“Okay, history boy.”
He groaned.
“What?” she asked, her expression blank.
