by May Dawson
He kissed me back, wild, searing kisses, and our bodies rocked together with his cock deep inside me until the legs of the desk began to scrape across the floor, a loud, painful sound that almost made me smile against his lips. But I couldn’t stop now. Our bodies were locked together tightly, and every time he drove inside me, the ache between my thighs only seemed to grow. Sparks tingled across my skin. I felt so giddy with his body against mine that I could’ve floated up to the ceiling.
His thighs trembled, his fingers on my waist curling tight as he held himself back. I ran my palms over the hard curves of his shoulders and hung on, my fingernails biting into his skin, not that he would notice that pain when both of us were panting now.
He murmured a curse, and my thighs tightened around his waist, my fingernails biting into his skin as my back arched. I pressed my lips together tightly, holding back the desire to scream, as the sensation that spread through my body swelled to a wild high.
My toes curled and I almost jerked off the desk as my muscles tightened around his cock. As my core tightened rhythmically, pulses of heat washed through my muscles in time with my aching core. He bit his lip, trying to hold himself back, but I was murmuring his name and he came just as that wanton pulsing reached its peak.
I buried my face in his shoulder, clinging to him as that pulsing turned into one long, steady bright pleasure. He wrapped his arms around me tightly, his lips against my hair, and for a few long seconds the two of us just trembled against each other, lost in waves of each other’s heat.
Slowly, the room stopped revolving around us. I raised my gaze to his gorgeous eyes, ran my palms over his shoulders.
“I love you too,” I whispered, and they seemed like such small, simple words to try to express everything I felt.
I’d thought when I lost my wolf, that I’d lost who I was. I was still determined to find a way to fix what I’d done. Maybe the Dark Collar could be reversed, or maybe we could find the Shield of Cain. Somehow, there would be a way.
But even without my wolf, even without my magic, I was still Maddie Northsea.
I had my men.
And we could always find a way.
Chapter Sixty-Eight
I was the first one down to the basement one night, setting up the weights at the bench press station. I felt someone at the door even before I straightened to find Tyson.
He stopped in the doorway, and his face was uncertain. His black t-shirt clung to his shoulders and the lean taper of his waist, and his gray joggers hung low on his narrow hips. He face was bleak. Of course it was—he never smiled now when he was near me. And yet, when I looked at him, I remembered him the way he looked the first time we met, here in this gym. He’d been shirtless and sweaty, and his smile had been irresistible.
“You can come in,” I told him. “I don’t have a claim on the gym.”
“Well, maybe you should, given what you do in here,” he muttered.
“Excuse me?” I demanded.
He shook his head. “I was trying to tease you. Too soon, huh?”
“Maybe.” I sat on the edge of the bench and grabbed my metal water bottle from the floor, taking a long sip of ice water to distract myself from the heat that flushed my face just having him near me. I still had no idea how to fix things between us.
I glanced past him to the door to the gym. “You should join us. Jensen and Penn were supposed to be right behind me. They’re so slow—”
I broke off, then stood, crossing my arms. “Did they send you down here?”
He pulled a face, but didn’t deny it.
“Those meddling jerks,” I said.
He nodded in agreement with me, then added, “But I clearly need the help.”
“Ty.” I ran my hand over my hair, smoothing my ponytail unnecessarily. “I know it’s hard to believe anything the Day said, but Bennett had no reason to lie that you’re half-Fae…”
“Maybe,” he said, too quickly. “But I have to know for sure. Before…”
I nodded, glancing away. I couldn’t meet his gaze. There was an ache in my chest so painful that I could barely breathe.
“I thought I was going to die when you left,” he said, his voice so low that I could barely hear him. “I made a mess of everything. You’re right, I should be your friend. No matter what. Like Chase.”
His voice was full of bitterness, directed toward himself. He felt as if he’d failed me—as if I didn’t feel like I’d failed him too.
“Don’t compare yourself to him.” I took a step toward him, then stopped, remembering how I practically seemed to burn Tyson with my touch. “Chase and I have one bond. You and I have another. And it might be broken now, but I hope…”
I couldn’t bear to say what I hoped for.
He raised those achingly beautiful eyes to mine. “I hope, too.”
He was always there, on our runs and at meals and in the hall where we all lived, and yet I constantly missed him, even though I could have reached out and touched him if I’d dared. Most of the time, he looked at me as if he were looking right through me, as if he couldn’t even register my existence.
And then other times, I saw the pain written across his face, and that hurt far worse than when he ignored me.
His voice came out a whisper, and he cleared his throat. “Friends, Maddie?”
“Friends,” I said, my voice coming out just a bit unsteady.
He closed the distance between us and wrapped me up in one of those careful hugs. I hesitated, just for a second, before I wrapped my arm around his neck and squeezed him back just as carefully.
“No matter what,” he said, “I do love you, Maddie. It just needs to be…”
“I know.” I managed to smile as his grip loosened, and I took a step back. We were still closer than we’d been in a long time.
The memory of the day we met was still so strong, as if the man who faced me, living and breathing, haunted me too.
He’d stuck his hand out for me to shake. “My name is Tyson Atlas, but my friends call me Ty.”
“Is that an invitation?”
His grin had widened a little. “Maybe. And you are?”
“Maddie Northsea.”
“What do your friends call you?”
I grinned back. “That’s a little presumptuous, isn’t it?”
“I’m a good friend to have,” he had promised me.
And I knew he still was.
“We should go tell them it’s safe.” He grinned that big grin that I’d missed so much. “Look at that. We didn’t even yell at each other this time.”
“Oh, should I have? Was that too easy?” I tucked my arm through his as the two of us headed for the stairs, and he only hesitated for a fraction of a second before he kept moving. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”
He scoffed. “I was a little bit afraid of you, to be honest.”
“Good.”
He laughed. “I missed you, M.”
“I know.”
And that would be enough for now.
Someday, I’d figure out how to fix the rest of the brokenness between us.
He rested his elbow on my shoulder the way he used to as the two of us ambled toward the stairs.
When we got upstairs, Rafe was in the hall, still in his damned uniform—as good as he looked in it—and the rest of the guys crowded around him.
Rafe glanced at Ty and me, and I could’ve sworn relief flashed across his face at the sight of the two of us getting along.
But all he said was, “Clearborn wants us in his office.”
“Now?” Ty asked.
Rafe shrugged, but this time, no one asked teasingly what I’d done lately.
We all knew.
Even though being called to Clearborn’s office usually brought a knot of dread, right now I felt a thrill of anticipation too.
A few minutes later, I filed into Clearborn’s office behind Rafe, his broad shoulders in his blazer ahead of me. The other guys were behind me, the whole team,
and we spread out in front of his desk: Lex on my other side, Jensen, Penn, Ty, Chase, Silas down the line.
Clearborn rose from his desk. “Time to talk about how you’re going to fix this.”
And even though the mission he had for us was full of danger, when I glanced down the line at the guys, their resolute faces reflected my own feelings.
We’d risk anything for the packs, and we could do anything when we were together.
“I’m sending you into the Fae world,” Clearborn began, “to bring back the shield of Cain. But first, you’ve got training to do… if you’re going to make it back…”
Can Maddie and her men bring back their wolves and find their way to happily-ever-after? Find out in their final book, Unwinnable…
Hi! May Dawson here.
If you enjoyed Unforgivable, please leave me a review if you can! It makes a huge difference in connecting readers with the indie books they’ll love.
You can download the last book in Maddie’s story, Unwinnable, here.
Lastly, if you’d haven’t read Their Shifter Academy yet, the prequel novella (where Maddie met Silas for the first time!), you can download it for free now!
If you enjoy academy stories like Maddie’s, I bet you’ll also love my completed five-book reverse harem series, The True and the Crown. Read on for an excerpt!
Thanks for reading!
Best,
May
Part I
An Excerpt from One Kind of Wicked
Chapter One
The smell of rain almost overwhelms the stench of garbage as I head back to the rooming house, and the thin handles of the heavy plastic bags I carry bite into my fingers. My shoulders ache, but I walk with my head held high. It’s the way I was raised.
I’m going home today.
The filthy sidewalk and the buildings that close around me are all gray. I bet in Avalon the sunrise floods the sky with pink and orange above the trees. Avalon is still half-wild in a way things aren’t here. Vibrant cities stand bordered by forests, and the air carries the scent of wild flowers.
Or maybe that’s all bull shit. Maybe I remember home like someone who’s been exiled for five years. I don’t trust my memories anymore, and I sure as hell don’t trust my feelings.
Someone cries out down the street like they’re being hurt. I let the bags slide down my fingers, making sure the handles aren’t knotted around my hands. I need to be able to drop the bags and run.
I’m not stupid; I don’t get involved. Anyway, it’s probably just one criminal going after another. Someone’s probably getting what they deserve.
Almost home. I’ll get into my room, close the door, and finish packing my bags, and the sound of that anguished voice will fall away.
The cry echoes down the lonely street. Goddamn it, I know that voice. Granny. She’s called good morning to me on my lonely trek back from the night shift every day in that whiskey-soaked voice. She always tells me, “You be careful out there! Be smart!”
My default setting may not be smart.
I take off running toward the cry. Staying away from the opening of the alley between the boarding house and the brick apartment building next door, I drop the grocery bags against the wall. I’ll be back for you later. My job at the twenty-four-hour grocery stinks, but the haul of dented cans and expired bread has been good for me. And for everyone else in the boarding house.
When I turn around the corner, two teenage boys—what the hell are they doing up so early?—are at the end of the alley with Granny. One of them flicks a lighter over and over. They’re threatening to light her shopping cart on fire. She’s on her knees, blood smeared across her cheek, begging them to stop.
My fingers tighten into a fist. I wish I had a wand. I wish there was magic in this world so it would matter if I had a wand.
But I always find another weapon.
I run past the entrance to the alleyway. The boys are so intent on Granny that they don’t even notice me. Just yesterday, Mrs. Estes complained about the piles of basura other tenants left behind. I nodded politely—while walking away because I didn’t see anything in the trash I could resell—but I noticed there was a shovel leaning against the faded brick façade.
I grab the rough wooden handle and head back down the stairs. I feel a hell of a lot better with the weapon in my hand, even if it isn’t much of one.
From behind the boys, Granny’s eyes fix on me. I can’t read her face. It’s hard to tell if she’s grateful to see me or afraid.
She needs this trouble to go away. I usually make more trouble.
The two boys turn, finally realizing there’s someone behind them. They’re young, twelve or thirteen. Too young to be so bad, but hey, my world exiled me at that same tender age for my sins.
The first one holds the lighter. The flicker of flame dies as he lifts his thumb. It’d be a small victory, except he slips it into his pocket and puffs himself up, ready for a fight.
“What are you looking at, bitch?”
My chest is tight with anxiety, but that doesn’t stop me from shaking my head. “You’ve got a devastating wit, don’t you? Leave the old woman alone.”
He glances back at Granny. My chest tightens even more at the sight of her wide eyes and the blood trickling from her nose; I want to bash these kids in the head so badly. I choke my grip up on the shovel, resting the sharp metal blade against my shoulder.
“This is a woman?” he asks me skeptically, and his buddy exhales with laughter. But there’s wariness in both their eyes.
“If you walk away,” I say, “I’ll give you ten bucks. Or you can stay here and see if I’m actually capable of kicking your asses.”
Frankly, I have no idea if I can kick their asses either.
“You think ten dollars means anything to me?” he asks.
Ten dollars sure as hell means something to me, so maybe. I take a step toward them, and the two of them turn and run for the back of the alley. They hit the fence and start to climb.
I’m feeling pretty smug. Then Granny points behind me, and I turn.
There’s a taxi cab parked across the mouth of the alley. I don’t think they’re scared of the color yellow, though.
It’s the driver, standing behind his door with a shotgun braced in his shoulder, who probably scared them off.
I didn’t think it was possible, but my heartrate spikes a little higher.
“It’s for me,” I tell Granny, looking back. “Don’t worry. Hey, I brought some stuff from the store—I left it on the sidewalk. Take it, okay?”
“Are you all right, Tera?” she asks me in her gravelly voice.
I shrug. I don’t know yet. I’m taking a wild chance on the thing I want most, and hoping it leads me home, not to being dumped in a trash bin somewhere in this city where I’ve never belonged.
“Here’s hoping.”
“Be careful out there.” Her eyes are worried as she limps toward me.
“You’re hurt.” I swing the shovel down from my shoulder and lean it against the wall. “I should’ve…”
“Be smart out there.” She interrupts my vengeance fantasy.
“What are the odds, really?” I ask, more of myself than anyone.
She grabs me in a hug goodbye. She’s so much taller than me that her chest presses against my cheek, enveloping me in the scent of cigarette smoke and old laundry. But it doesn’t matter. I hug her back.
This world is a terrible place. But it has its rare moments of beauty too.
Chapter Two
I toy with the door locks in the cab, popping them open and closed. The last time I was in a car, it was a cop car. I’d been in a fight that was completely not my fault, and unfortunately, I was not successful in convincing the policeman of that fact. That time, I definitely couldn’t pop the lock.
“Ready to go home, Tera Donovan?”
“Ready,” I say, although hearing my last name always gives me an ache.
He hits a button on the dash. The locks po
p into the down position. I try, but I can’t pry them up again with my thumbnail. The windows go dark; the driver must still be able to see, but I can’t. It’s as if night suddenly descended.
I lean forward so quickly my nose almost bumps the mesh screen. “Do you have magic working here?” Magic doesn’t work Earthside. I’ve tried.
“Sorry, security measures to protect the portals. Sit back and enjoy the ride.”
Right. I can definitely enjoy the ride. Especially with the doors locked. I twist the strap of my backpack in my lap. I have a rolling suitcase and a duffel bag that my new friend carried down the stairs of the boarding house for me. It smelled like wood rot in the house, and it was quiet—everyone else, who doesn’t work nights, was sleeping—yet I’d felt for a moment like I might miss that place.
But I would never stay here if I had a chance to go home. My acceptance letter is in my backpack, ready to show them in case I arrive at the Corum University of Magic only to hear there’s been some kind of mistake. I’ve been locked away on Earth with no way to find a portal, so I also had no way of applying to Corum.
My acceptance package is a mystery, and I don’t like mysteries. But I like being exiled less. I’ll take any way home I can find.
The sense of having made a terrible decision yet again is worming into my bones, though, as the driver parks the cab. The windows brighten, but not as bright as when we were driving down the street. I press my nose against the glass. Outside are cement columns and rows of cars. The light filtering into the garage is dim, and worse for the overcast gray sky beyond the raw beams.
When the driver opens my door, I slide out into the cool, damp garage. He pops the trunk and pulls out my bags.
Rain drones steadily on the sidewalk outside, washing out the view of a flat gray building and a few dumpsters outside. That doesn’t give me much of a hint about our location.. I’d give anything to be able to find my way between Avalon and here.
