Selene cleared her throat. “The program does not require my full-time care. I believe it can be accomplished with a half-day session three times a week.”
Silas shook his head again. “If I could count on my brother to follow your program, that would be good enough. Unfortunately, I don’t trust him—”
“Silas!” Jason pleaded.
“I’m sorry, brother, but you know as well as I do that you’ll be out the door and in the arms of the first woman you see.”
“What are you saying? You’re assigning Selene as my babysitter?” Jason gaped at his brother in horror.
“More like your warden. I want Selene to stay with you, full-time.”
“But I live in Sanctuary at Rivergate Manor. The Preotka—” Selene’s heart raced. Surely Silas wasn’t suggesting she live with Jason. After all, the man looked as if he wanted to kill her at the moment.
“Preotka Artemis will be receptive to your assignment when she understands the safety of the pack is at risk. I assume Jason can’t stay with you in Sanctuary.”
“No.” She chuckled softly. “Males are not allowed.”
“Then you will stay with Jason until he’s better. Do we all understand each other?” Silas looked between Selene and Jason.
Selene nodded.
“You can’t do this to me. I have work. I have a life.” Jason bared his teeth and planted his hands on his hips.
“The faster you get with the program, the faster you can have both of those things back,” Silas said.
“You fucking bastard.” Jason swung a fist at Silas’s head, barely missing Selene in the process. Silas caught his fist, palm slapping knuckles loud enough to make Selene tense away from the crackle of testosterone in the room.
“Back down, brother, or things are going to get worse for you. Much, much worse.”
He lowered his fist.
“I’m going to call Artemis and make sure we’re on the same page about Selene. I’ll meet you out front and escort you back to your condo. Selene, take your time getting your things together. I’ll wait with Jason until you can join us.” He nodded his good-bye.
“I need to find Kyle,” Laina said, hoisting up the skirt of her wedding dress and following after Silas. Gerty gave one last sideways glance toward Jason before making her own exit.
Although he didn’t say a word, Jason’s jaw tightened as he looked at Selene, his gaze raking over her forehead, nose, and lips with barely contained repulsion.
She reached a trembling hand out to Jason’s clenched fist. He jerked away from her, but she gently gripped his wrist and wrenched open his fingers. He was still clenching the Primary’s fang. She slid the artifact from his palm and carefully returned it to the box. She gathered the pelt that Jason had cast aside when he awoke, folded it carefully, and returned it to its place among the other artifacts, checking and double-checking that everything was where it belonged before closing and locking the sacred chest.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jason said. “You could refuse. My brother wouldn’t deny you, especially if you asked Artemis to back you up.”
“Why would I do that?” Selene said, meeting his gaze. “You need me. I can help you.”
Jason stepped in close, his body blocking the window and casting a dark shadow over her. “You don’t want to live with me, Selene.” His finger landed on her chest and traced the smear of blood that remained there from the ritual. “It’s not safe. I’m a bad man with a vice. You’re a woman. You wouldn’t want to put yourself at risk, would you?”
Narrowing her eyes, Selene squared her shoulders, lifting the box from the bed in such a way that it banged into Jason’s stomach. He took a step back with a resounding oomph.
“I don’t believe for a second that you are capable of hurting me. And if you even think about taking your vice out on me, think again. I may be a woman, but I’m not as defenseless as I seem.”
“Every woman has her vulnerabilities.” His threatening tone made her spine tingle.
Exhausted from the ritual and in no mood to argue, she leaned forward and whispered into his ear, “Just remember, I saw into your soul. I know what you did with Nickelova… and other things. I know who you really are, Jason Flynn. Before you even think about messing with me, you’d better consider your own vulnerabilities.”
Chapter 8
On the way back to his condominium, Jason had half a mind to drive directly to the security office of the Bachman Building and tell them that Silas, who trailed a car length behind him, was a stalker. He’d enjoy watching some half-trained, underpaid, overcaffeinated human in a blue uniform interrogate his big brother. Unfortunately, all it would take was a direct alpha command from Silas and life could get even worse… fast.
One word, said with the right inflection and eye contact, and Jason would be forced to obey or face the consequences—namely a body that burned as if he had acid in his veins. There’d been rumors of alphas throughout history punishing their wolves by making them kneel on concrete until they bled or forcing them to take a hammer to their own hand. Silas had never done anything like that, but he was capable of it. Most people didn’t realize it, but the guy had anger issues. Darkness lay beneath the buddy-cop exterior.
Silas would do anything to protect his pack, and that included torturing his little brother. Jason had no choice but to go along with this ridiculous plan. Or else.
It wasn’t the program itself he was dreading. It was Selene. Giving up sex would be difficult, both physically and mentally, he was sure. He’d lied before to Laina about going two weeks without it. It had been years since he’d gone more than two days. But Selene… Selene, with her perfect skin and her holier-than-thou attitude… Her fucking virtue was a constant reminder of everything he wasn’t. And now she was in charge. Sesame Street twenty-four hours a day.
He appreciated her saving his life. He did. And part of him regretted not thanking her for that particular service. But how creepy was it that she’d seen and felt the depravity going on inside his brain. She’d likely never allow him to forget the filth he was. How he was dark to her light, tainted to her clean, unworthy to her admirable. And she’d be right there to watch him squirm as his vice tortured him from the inside out.
“Get out.” Silas knocked on his driver’s side window, looking peeved.
Jason turned off the ignition and crawled from the car. “How about a nice hospital stay? There’s a rehab institute in Arizona where a popular pro golfer found some success.”
“No. You need Selene. She understands the difference between a human addiction and a werewolf vice.”
“And so do you, Silas. You know I won’t be able to give it up permanently. My wolf will go mad.”
Silas said nothing. They stepped into the elevator and Silas pressed the button for the top floor: Jason’s penthouse.
“It’s not like I actually have a problem. I understand you need me to prove I can go without sex. You want to be sure I can say no to Nickelova, but this isn’t like snorting cocaine or shooting up heroin. I can’t give up sex any more than I could give up eating or drinking. Not long term. My wolf needs it to survive.”
Wordlessly, Silas stepped off the elevator, waiting patiently for Jason to unlock his door.
“It was the curse that caused all the trouble. Not my vice,” Jason said. “I don’t have a problem, just a manageable condition. I can stop on my own anytime I want. I don’t need Selene.”
Silas closed the door behind them.
“Have you listened to a word I’ve said?” Jason stared at his brother in frustration.
“You have a different woman every night of the week but couldn’t get a date for your sister’s wedding,” Silas said matter-of-factly.
“It wasn’t a convenient time—”
“We schedule our family events around your sessions because you are intolerable to be around otherwise.”
“Understandable, I’d say, given that I have a metaphysical need for sex.”
Silas rubbed the base
of his neck. “You couldn’t turn down the woman who almost killed us… almost killed me… just a few months ago.”
“She caught me off guard. Look, I know I need more control but I can do it myself. I don’t need help.”
Silas ran his tongue along his upper teeth. “Want a drink before Selene gets here?”
Blowing out a deep breath, Jason nodded. “I’d love one.” The crawling feeling was back, under his skin, and his suit felt heavy and constricting. He removed his jacket and unbuttoned his top two buttons.
Although Jason kept a large variety of liquors stocked in the bar next to the fireplace, Silas went straight for the bourbon, pouring two glasses of Pappy Van Winkle. Jason didn’t waste a second. He tossed the stuff back like it was lemonade and held his glass out for another. Silas obliged.
“Selene will be here soon. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“What?”
Silas made eye contact and held it. “You will not leave this apartment without Selene’s permission.”
It was an alpha command. The words sifted through Jason’s cells and formed a heavy weight over his heart as his body processed the command. He snorted derisively. “You bastard.”
“I didn’t like the way you looked at her in the cabin. Almost like you hated her. You need her, Jason. Don’t fuck this up by pushing her away.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” Jason slammed the glass down on the counter. “I’m tired. Being brought back from the dead can do that to a person. I’m going to bed.”
“Jason—”
He turned on his heel and headed for his room, leaving Silas standing by the bar.
Goddess, he was an asshole. Locked in his room, Jason stared at the ceiling, the cruel ache of unfulfilled need gathering like a two-ton weight between his thighs. He’d heard Selene arrive and Silas leave, but instead of welcoming her or thanking her for saving his life, he’d stayed locked in his room, brooding over his predicament.
Why he’d thought he could sleep, he wasn’t sure. His cock had an entirely different plan and the long, thick length of him was currently pitching a tent in his covers. He stroked a hand over his sunken abs and palmed that sucker, stroking himself slowly from base to tip. It was a small reprieve, like a sip of air to a drowning man, but he’d suffered under his vice long enough to know the relief would be short-lived. Self-gratification tended to sate his inner beast for a short time, only to be followed by an increased desire for sex. It was like putting out the fire with gasoline.
As he arched his back and rolled his hips, pumping harder and faster, the build of pleasure felt like a roller coaster chugging toward that first major drop. He went over the edge, free-falling down the other side with a clear view of the broken track ahead.
And then she was there. It wasn’t his hand but Nickelova’s moving against him. He rolled onto his side and bound from the bed, just barely making it to the bathroom before self-loathing turned his stomach. He heaved but there was nothing inside him to purge. When he was done, he checked his room, under the bed, in his closet. Thankfully, Nickie had been a figment of his imagination this time. Even the thought of her made everything feel dirty, tainted.
He turned on the shower and let the heat build. Stripping out of his pajamas, he stepped into the scalding water and scrubbed. His wolf was already revved up again, and as predicted, the edge of his need was sharper than before. He scrubbed harder, trading the need for pleasure for the sting of pain. Nickelova was on the edge of every orgasm, it seemed, curse or not. As he tipped his head back into the spray, he swore. He would not let her win. No fucking way.
Hours later, Jason lay on his floor, alternating sit-ups and push-ups in an effort to distract himself from his vice. Only problem was, he could smell Selene. Ripe mango and vanilla. She was right outside his door. There were other smells: food, breakfast he assumed. But his brain dismissed everything except the scent of the female. His inner wolf paced restlessly, eager to be in the presence of a woman. “Not this one,” Jason said under his breath. “This one is seriously off-limits.”
Unlocking the door, he passed through the short corridor into the great room, frowning when he saw a pallet of blankets on the floor next to the sofa beside the ugliest brown plaid bag he’d ever seen. Was that her luggage? Had she slept on the floor last night? He clenched a fist against his stomach. Why hadn’t Silas set her up in the guestroom?
After a cursory check of the room, he saw the shape of her seated silhouette through the morning dew on the glass door to his balcony. Quietly, he slipped outside. She’d exchanged her silk robe for jeans that bagged in all the wrong places and a T-shirt he found wholly unacceptable. Her complicated chignon was gone, replaced with a ponytail.
Legs crisscrossed on the concrete, her eyes were closed, her back straight, hands folded in her lap. He stepped around her. That couldn’t be comfortable. It was cold out here, the spring chill hanging in the morning air. She should have a mat or better yet, a chair under her.
“Why didn’t you sleep in the guest room last night?” he said sharply. More sharply than he’d intended.
Her eyes opened, the sunrise constricting her pupils and turning her irises an intense shade of violet. He had to consciously stop himself from gasping. His lips parted and for a moment he just took her in. A flock of black birds chose that moment to take off from the roof, their flapping wings and morning caws contrasting the weighty silence of her presence. It was as if she owned the air around her. The effect was intense.
“Good morning,” she said, a soft, pleasant smile warming her face. “I wasn’t comfortable settling into your guestroom without your permission. I’m here to help you, not to make myself at home.”
Jason tried to respond but the words stuck in his throat. He wiped a hand over his mouth and cleared the thickness from his vocal cords. “I… I can’t have you sleeping on the floor. Come on.” Roughly, he reached out and grabbed her by the arm, pulling her off the concrete and through the glass door. Aside from a guttural grunt, she didn’t protest, though he suspected he was hurting her.
Moving like this, dragging her behind him like a child, kept him from thinking of her as a woman. He couldn’t afford to look at her too closely or to consider the way her cotton T-shirt hugged her curves, not with his wolf pressing against his skin. Not with the crawling need that had kept him up all night.
He swept her ugly brown bag into the crook of his arm and lifted the pallet from the floor. He didn’t stop until they were standing in his guest room, the plush gray of the comforter absorbing the impact of her things. “Until I can convince Silas to send you away, you’ll stay in here. Understand?”
“Okay,” she said softly.
“It would help if you told Silas I don’t need you.”
“But you do need me.”
He eyed her from head to toe. “No, sweetheart. Look at you. This whole thing… it’s way out of your league.”
“Look at me?” Her brow puckered. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re not exactly dressed to sit at the adult table.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “Come on. You’re celibate. You know as well as I do you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. Do yourself a favor and ask to be removed from my case.” He backed out the door.
“I’ll do no such thing!” Selene protested, but Jason wasn’t listening.
He’d stopped short when he saw the source of the breakfast smells. The kitchen counter was laden with pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon, fresh coffee.
“I made you breakfast,” Selene said from behind him. “It should still be hot.”
He sighed. Most of the time the hollow feeling inside his abdomen was suppressed, hidden under the layers of constant wanting that drove his every decision. But now, seeing it all there, he almost felt hungry. “I don’t usually eat breakfast.”
“No kidding. Your refrigerator was a graveyard of half-empty take-out containers.”
&n
bsp; “Where did you even find the food?”
“I brought it. It’s part of the regimen. You’ll eat six times a day. Your body needs to be strong and healthy if we’re going to beat this thing.”
“Healthy.” Jason’s eyes drifted to the bar near the fireplace and widened when he found it empty. “What happened to the wine? The Macallan? The Pappy Bourbon?”
“I had to get rid of it.” Selene shrugged.
Jason’s hands dug into his hair. “Thousands of dollars…”
Her laugh rang through the room like a bell. He looked at her in horror. Was she really laughing at his pain?
“Relax,” she finally said. “Silas took it for safekeeping. You can have it back when you’re better.”
He dropped into a chair at the white oak table and rubbed his forehead. “So… the acolyte has a sense of humor. A cruel but existent sense of humor.”
She crossed her right foot behind her left and bowed, her ponytail flopping over her shoulder. The movement made her look young and light like she was made of air rather than skin and bone. “We have a joke among acolytes.”
He slouched. “Let’s hear it.”
“A werewolf, a vampire, and an acolyte walk into a bar. The bartender asks, ‘What’ll it be?’ The werewolf orders a beer. The vampire orders a pint of blood. What does the acolyte order?”
“I don’t know, what?”
“A candle to light for the souls of the vampire and the werewolf.”
“That’s the worst joke I’ve ever heard.”
“Well, if we were comedians we would have chosen a different vocation.” She strode into the kitchen and started loading a plate.
“What is that in the eggs?”
“Onions, peppers, tomato, spinach. It helps with hormonal balance.”
As she swayed in front of the counter, she added pancakes to the heaping pile forming on the plate in her hands. He shifted in his chair, his cock kicking. His inner wolf stretched and lowered his head, stalking her every movement. Breathing deeply, he sorted out her mango and vanilla scent.
Virtue: A Knight World Novel (Fireborn Wolves Book 2) Page 6
