by Emilia Rose
Outside of the café, a group of people were huddled together and whispering. Some people had drinks in their hands, others were crying. Grasping onto each other in their tight clothes, tears falling from their eyes. Warriors scouting the area and trying to calm everyone down. It was pure chaos.
I shifted into my human, scanning the crowd for Isabella. Jane and Vanessa were holding each other by the doorway. Jane’s cheeks were stained with black streaks. She gazed at me, pressed a hand to her chest, then ran in my direction. “Thank the Moon Goddess, you’re alright!” She threw her arms around me. “I thought I lost you too.”
My brows furrowed together. “Where’s Isabella?”
She wiped a tear from her cheek and nodded to the side of woods where a group of alphas were huddled. I pushed Jane away and hurried to them. Mate. I needed my mate. Cayden followed me, trying to keep up with my quickening pace.
My heart thumped against my chest when the scent of alcohol faded into the stench of blood. Blood. Blood everywhere. I pushed through the alphas, not caring who I pissed off, when I saw the rogue. Dead and lying in a puddle of his own blood, he smelled like her.
Where was she?
A few yards from the rogue was another. His face was torn apart—completely unrecognizable. And a few yards from him was another with a dislocated limb. Five more dead rogues laid throughout the woods, each a distance from each other.
And the mate’s necklace that I had given Isabella was in the center of the madness. Painted with blood, not Isabella’s but the rogues. I grabbed the necklace and deposited it into my pocket. I needed to find her.
Gore covered a few trees and was splattered all over the ground. This wasn’t planned. If Isabella was here on business with someone, they would’ve taken out each rogue without a mess.
I sniffed the air for any trace of my mate, needing to make sure she was alright and hadn’t mated with anyone else. I followed the only scent I could pick up and came to a small stream. A Lycan was in it, washing blood off of his body. His brows were pulled together in pain, and he clutched the open wound on his abdomen.
“Where is she?” I asked, stepping closer to him.
The Lycan gazed over at me, jaw clenching as he pulled himself out of the water and put more pressure on the open wound which sat almost perfectly along the line of Moonflowers tattooed on his side.
“Who?”
“Isabella. Where is she?”
He stiffened, then scoffed. “So… you’re her mate?”
I stalked over to him and grabbed him by the neck. “Where is she?”
“Take your hands off of me before someone gets hurt.”
“I asked you a question.”
“And I asked you to take your hands off of me.”
I growled, baring my teeth at the man who had Isabella’s scent all over him. Her scent was so strong—too strong. “Where?”
“I don’t know where your mate is. I asked her to leave.”
“Don’t give me that shit! I know you Lycans have an oath to each other that’d you never leave a mission. Where is she?”
He pushed me away and grabbed his wound again. “I asked her to leave so I wouldn’t mark her. She’s going through heat, you dumbass.” He shook his head. Heat. My mate. She was in heat. “Don’t act so fucking surprised either. If anything, you should be thanking me. If I wasn’t here, those rogues would’ve devoured her.”
She was in heat, and I wasn’t there to stop it. If she lost control, if someone found her… “Where did she run to?” I asked. He pointed toward my pack, and I ran faster than I ever had to find my Isabella.
Chapter 41
Isabella
My whole body ached.
I turned onto my side and groaned softly into my pillow. At least the heat was over for now. That was something I never—ever—wanted to happen again. I’d do anything to avoid the pain of the heat. It was like a million knives jabbing into my stomach and cutting me open, like searing in an inescapable burning house.
But it was over so soon. I expected it to last two or three days, not just a single night.
Someone wrapped their arm around me from behind and pulled me closer. My eyes widened, and I thrusted back an elbow to hit whoever it was hard in the chest. “Get away from me!”
I hopped out of the bed, tugging the blankets around me and refusing to look at whoever had laid with me last night. This wasn’t real. I… I really… I really slept with someone last night. Did I let them mark me too? Was that why I couldn’t feel any more pain?
My vision was blurry still, halfway between my wolf’s eyesight and my own, as I stared down at my bare feet. The last thing I remembered was lying in Roman’s bed, trying to calm my wolf, and being deathly hot. Then I blacked out. What if, when I did, she took control of me? What if I had mated someone without knowing about it?
“Oh, my gosh. I can’t believe I did this… I can’t believe…” I doubled over, curling into a ball and covering my face with my hands. “I’m a terrible mate.” My body heaved up and down. Roman would never forgive me now.
Someone placed their hands on my waist and picked me up. “Get off of me!” I screamed. I pulled myself out of the man’s grip and turned around, baring my teeth at him. But when I blinked back the blurriness, and my eyes widened.
Roman.
After a few moments of breathing heavily, I gazed around the room. Everything was back to normal, the water had been cleaned up, the dressers—though nearly ripped to shreds—were back in their original spots.
My hands traveled up to my neck, and I sighed when I didn’t feel a mark. Nobody marked me. Tears welled up in my eyes. Nobody marked me. I was still me. I was still Isabella. Not anyone’s.
Roman watched me from the edge of the bed, and I swallowed hard. I hadn’t seen him in almost a month. And now he was staring right at me with a wild mess of curls on his head, dark circles under his eyes, and thick, tan muscles that had seemed to have gotten bigger since I last saw him.
I wanted him, and my wolf still wanted him. Despite everything.
But I couldn’t imagine what he’d say if I told him that.
If you wanted me, you shouldn’t have left. If you wanted me, you would still be here with me. If you wanted me, you wouldn’t be sleeping under the same roof with another man.
I parted my lips, then closed them—not knowing what to say. It was probably best not to say anything at this point. Showing up in his house. Tearing up his furniture. Lying naked in his bed. I stood there staring at him and waiting for him to reject me.
When I had enough of him judging me with his eyes, I tore my gaze from him, suddenly feeling stupid for coming here. It was clear that he wasn’t going to reject me or to mark me. He would’ve done either already. He wanted me to suffer more, to suffer longer for leaving him. And, so, I would.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be here,” I said.
Next month when I go through heat, I’d just lock myself in my room, tie myself to my bed with a silver chain, and call it a day.
I turned toward the door, dressed in Roman’s sheets without a care in the world that someone would see me leave Roman’s packhouse naked. Nothing happened between us. Nothing would ever happen between us at this rate.
Roman grabbed my hand and pulled me back into his chest. Then he pressed his lips to mine. So hard. So passionately. So desperately. By the second, my body relaxed, and I kissed him back. All the stress. All the anger. It melted away. It was stupid and cliché, but it was true.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down to me. I would take all that I could get from him at the moment. I didn’t know if I’d get another.
When I was out of breath, I pulled away and rested my forehead against his. A tear slipped down my cheek. My heart hurt. So bad. I missed him so much, and I never wanted to leave him again.
We didn’t say anything to each other. I just stood there and enjoyed it because I was afraid that even after that kiss, he’d tell me to leave. Withou
t a mark. Without a mate.
After pressing his lips to mine once more, he lifted me off the ground, walked to the bed, and gently rested me on it. He sat across from me and brushed a tear from my cheek with his thumb. “Turn around,” he said softly.
My jaw twitched, still nervous and afraid. But I turned around and faced the mirror on his dresser. I was a total mess. My hair sat in unruly curls around my face, my makeup was smudged on my cheeks, my eyes were red. And my neck was bare. No necklace.
I sucked in a breath and touched my fingers to my neck. No, it wasn’t on my neck last night… but I left it in the woods. Somewhere. Somewhere in the forest, near the café. “Roman,” I whispered. “I-I didn’t mean to lose my necklace. I had it on me, I swear, I had it on me.”
I hopped up, needing to go get it. He probably hated me even more for losing his mother’s necklace. Hell, I was a mess. I wouldn’t even blame him for rejecting me now.
“Sit, Isabella,” Roman ordered. And I hesitantly obeyed.
He sat behind me on his knees and pulled my necklace from his pant pocket. My eyes widened, heart thumping loudly. He unhooked it and placed it around my neck. “You’re mine, Isabella.” He pressed his lips to my skin, right where he would’ve marked me. “Mine.”
Chapter 42
Isabella
I smiled at the glowing necklace on my chest, then at Roman in the mirror. With his dark, golden eyes, he stared at it too. He wasn’t going to reject me. He didn’t want me to hurt anymore. He wanted me to be his. That was all.
He snaked one of his hands around my throat, pulled me closer, then brushed his lips against my neck. I sucked in a breath, tingles shooting down my arms. “Mine,” he murmured against my ear. His fingers moved down my forearm, and he rested his large, calloused hand on my inner thigh. Inch by inch, he pushed his bedsheet from my legs until I was bare to him.
Gripping my jaw in one hand and fingering my folds with the other, he smirked against my neck, his breath fanning my skin. “Mine.” He slipped two fingers inside of me and began to slowly and softly push them in and out. I clenched, already feeling the wetness pool between my legs.
“Roman,” I breathed, eyes fluttering closed.
He growled lowly in my ear. “Look at me, Isabella.”
I opened my eyes and gazed at him through the mirror, my pussy tightening again. “Mine.” He gripped my chin tighter and placed his lips just below my jaw. “You’re mine. This”—his fingers stilled for the shortest moment—“is mine.”
Pure pleasure pulsed through me. My pussy clenched around his fingers, and I nodded my head. “It feels so good.” My toes curled into his bedsheets. “Please don’t stop.”
He pulled me closer to him until he pressed his hardness against my backside. I parted my lips, trying to form coherent words. He curled his fingers, hitting my g-spot, and I cried out.
“Say it, Isabella,” he said, his thumb gently stroking my jaw. Golden eyes stared back at me through the mirror, devouring every single inch of my body, and I furrowed my brows. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours, Roman.” I gripped onto his fingers as they moved faster, massaging my g-spot. “Oh, Moon Goddess, I am yours.”
When he tugged on my nipples, I threw my head back and came. I pulled my trembling legs together as wave after wave of pleasure rolled through me and pumped out of me. My whole body felt like it was on fire—a good kind of fire.
He gazed at me through the mirror and watched his mate cum.
When I had fully relaxed against his body, I whimpered. Oh, Goddess, I hadn’t felt that good in over a month. I turned to face my mate, my wolf needing more and more and more from him. With his hard cock pressing against the front of his grey sweatpants, he rested his hands on the pillows behind him and leaned back, eyeing my bare breasts.
I grasped him through his pants, moving my hand up and down his length and needing him inside of me, then leaned down to press my lips against his waistband. He stared at my ass in the mirror, and I arched, knowing that he would love every moment of this.
He pushed a hand through my hair and swore under his breath. “Bend over more,” he said, pressing a hand onto the center of my back, making me arch harder for him. I pulled down his pants and took him in my hand. “I want to see your pussy drip while you suck my cock.”
I clenched and leaned down further, giving my mate the view that he wanted, and wrapped my lips around the head of his cock. After swirling my tongue around it, I slowly took him down my throat until my lips pressed against his hips and I gagged. He shuddered with pleasure, grasped harder on my hair, and held my head down onto him.
“Fuck, Isabella,” he groaned. I took his balls in my hand and squeezed lightly, flicking my tongue against them. He leaned back against the bed again and relaxed. “Damn, you do that so fucking well.”
After forcing himself deeper down my throat to get him as far down as I could, I gazed up at him through teary eyes. My nipples pressed against his thighs, and I groaned as I let them glide against his skin.
He reached under my body and groped one of my breasts, took my nipple between his fingers, and squeezed lightly. “Your tits are so fucking nice,” he said. I pressed my thighs together, clenching, and watched him smirk into the mirror again. “Look at your pussy.” He pinched my nipple again, this time harder, and I moaned. “It’s dripping for me.” He pressed his hand against my head, holding me down on him again. “I bet you can’t fucking wait for me to fuck you, can you?”
I whimpered again, and he trailed his hand down to my pussy, brushing his two fingers against my clit. When they pressed against it, my ass jerked up into the air—the pressure from his fingers almost too much to handle.
He growled, picked me off of him, and sat me on my hands and knees. After grasping a fistful of my hair from behind, he spit on his fingers, pressed them against my clit, and made me watch him touch me in the mirror.
My pussy clenched, wanting to be filled, and I pushed my hips back against his to feel his hard cock pressing against my wet pussy. “Please, Roman,” I begged, curling my fingers into the mattress. “I need you.”
He gripped my hips and pressed his cock harder against my entrance, making me clench. “Mine,” he said, pushing himself inside of me and filling me. He grabbed both of my elbows and pulled me back to him, so his chest was pressing against my back.
This was what I had been craving all night. Just him. Burying his cock deep inside of me. Thrusting against me. Taking me. Claiming me.
He slowly pulled out, then slammed himself back into me, making my breasts bounce. He stilled, breathed against my ear, and then—finally—began to pump in and out. My pussy tightened around him, and he pulled me even closer. I watched his biceps bulge in the mirror each time he thrust into me, each time my breasts bounced, each time my pussy tightened harder and harder around him.
His body glistened with a thin layer of sweat, and a dark piece of his hair bounced against the middle of his forehead. Brows furrowed together, eyes on me and me only, canines emerging from his lips, he grasped my chin and pressed his lips to mine, kissing me hard.
“Fuck,” he mumbled on my lips. He pulled out of me, hopped off of the bed, and pulled me toward him by the ankle. “Come here.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist as he picked me up and thrust me against the wall. He pressed his lips to mine, sliding his cock back into me. I pulled him closer to me, as close as I could get him, and kissed him hard. I never wanted to stop this, I never wanted to stop kissing him, to stop loving him.
Roman was mine.
He kissed down my neck, still pumping in and out of me. His lengthened canines brushed against my soft spot, and my core tightened. “Please, Roman.” I needed his mark.
When his teeth brushed against my skin, everything slowed down. Every breath he took warmed my neck, making me hot and needy for him. It was like my heat, but it actually felt good. He slowed his thrusts and gripped my ass tighter.
My toes
curled as I waited and waited and waited for him to finally sink his teeth into my neck. And, yet, he still seemed to resist me.
Instead of biting me, he pressed his lips hard to my skin. And, though pleasure was pulsing through my body, I couldn’t help feeling bad. Even after everything I went through, he still didn’t want to mark me. After all the pain and all the heartbreak and all the heat, he rather I was not marked by him.
He thrust one last time up into my tight pussy, grasped onto my shoulders, and held me to him. I felt his cock pulse inside of me, and I couldn’t help releasing myself at just the feel. “Oh, Goddess,” I said.
After sighing into my neck, he pulled out of me and rested me onto his grey bed sheets. He stared at me, his brows drawn together. “Isabella, you’re so beautiful.”
My chest felt tight, and I didn’t know what to say.
He laid next to me, his head on my shoulder, and wrapped an arm around my waist. Though his mint scent always calmed me, my heart was beating rapidly in my chest. I was overwhelmed.
Everything that happened this past week—these past two days—was too much for me. From the heat to the necklace to not going right to the Lycan’s property when I was going through heat like Ryker told me to… After all that, I ended up here in my mate’s arms. And that was when the first tear fell.
Chapter 43
Isabella
I cried out every single emotion I had felt this past month.
Hurt. Betrayal. Sorrow. Rage. Passion.
My fingers grazed against my necklace, sending a wave of heat through my body. It felt different around my neck. It meant something now.
Roman pulled me to his chest, placed a kiss on my forehead, and massaged my scalp. “Why are you crying, my dear Isabella?”
I threw my arms around his neck and held on for dear life. Roman wanted me. He really did. He might’ve still been angry at me—I didn’t know—but this necklace and lying in his bed with his strong arms wrapped around me proved that he still wanted me.
