by Kresley Cole
She knew what his tie to her was: he was compelled by his instinct to want her. Was MacRieve’s marked interest in her fueling Chloe’s own infatuation?
When she descended the stairs and entered the kitchen, his face lit up, as if she were a beauty queen modeling an evening gown.
“What do you like to eat?”
Before her recent decline in appetite, she’d been a big eater. She opened her mouth to list all her favorite training foods, only to remember there might never be training again. If she didn’t make it to Madrid in time . . . if her immortality was triggered . . .
MacRieve had pronounced her human the night before. The question was, how to stay that way? Was it possible to find her dad and learn what her trigger was before the Games?
“I’ll just take a cup of coffee,” she muttered, though she rarely drank caffeinated drinks. Her voice had wavered, so she jutted her chin.
“Hey, hey, lass. Come here. What troubles you?”
When he reached for her and she realized how very badly she wanted to be enfolded in those arms, she made herself back up a step.
At that moment, two younger guys entered the kitchen.
“This is Rónan and Benneit,” MacRieve said. “They live here. Lads, this is Chloe.”
Ben was even taller than MacRieve, duck-under-the-doorway tall. He was also handsome, with thick black hair that hung over one eye. His face heated as he gave her a wave, and she realized he was really shy.
The younger one, a cute rangy blond, had no such problem. “So what’re we having for breakfast, sweetling?”
She hated it when people assumed she could cook just because she had a vagina. “Whatever your happy ass makes—for yourself.”
Ben cracked a grin. Rónan cast her a measuring glance.
MacRieve laughed. “Ah, lass, you’re going to do just fine here.”
“What’d I miss?” asked another male from the doorway.
Chloe blinked. And again. “You didn’t tell me you had an identical twin.” An excruciatingly handsome one.
“I’m Munro, and I’m pleased to have you here, Chloe.” He seemed like he was about to say more, only to stop himself.
“Thank you, Munro.” She realized she was still staring, and blushed. “Wow, you really do look alike.” When he stood next to MacRieve, she could tell they weren’t quite identical. MacRieve looked a little more . . . worn, his hair longer. She also noticed that neither of them had laugh lines.
Rónan said, “Female Loreans call them Hot and Hotter. I doona see it.”
I’ll bet they do. A flare of jealousy took her by surprise. For most of her life, she hadn’t been interested in men, much less jealous over them.
MacRieve quipped something in Gaelic, making his brother grin, then handed her a mug. “Come on, I’ve much to show you.” When he squired her through a set of french doors, the afternoon sun illuminated his face.
His eyes were the color of a gold medal struck by sunlight. She told herself it was the zing of caffeine that caused her head to rush—not the sight of his brilliant gaze. He was jaw-droppingly fine, and apparently he got told that all the time. Having had fanboys, she’d sworn never to be a fangirl. She wouldn’t start now.
She dragged her gaze away, making a study of the outside of his home. The lodge was constructed of brick, with exposed wood beams. The arched roof was covered in slate tiles. “It’s beautiful.” After growing up in a house that looked exactly like every other McMansion in the neighborhood, she’d always wanted to live in a home with character, something unique.
When MacRieve smiled, her skin grew flushed. She didn’t like the effect he had on her or how quickly all this was moving. He kept her off balance, like she was running with a cleat on one foot and a climbing boot on the other.
She groped for something to talk about. “So if you and Munro are twins, how does the whole alpha thing work?”
“The wolf that created our line was an alpha, so most Lykae males have alpha tendencies, just waiting to come out. In my and Munro’s case, his beast is cut from the same soul as mine, so we’re definitely both alphas. Let’s just put it this way—we brawl. A lot.” He steered her onto another path.
“Where are we headed?”
“The main house of the compound.”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course I’m at a compound. Great. If I see any fourteen-year-olds, should I congratulate them on their nuptials?”
“No’ that kind of compound. You’ll enjoy it here. It’s like a big team. And this property is like a locker room.”
“You expect me to sign on?”
“Our facilities are top-notch, and we’re all starters.”
“I need to get back to the team I’ve already joined. I have a life of my own.” And questions that had to be answered. Not just about her father.
Now that she’d confirmed immortals existed, she kept wondering what species her mom could’ve been, and what her ultimate fate was. Dad had told Chloe that Mom had no relations. What if that statement was as false as the terminal cancer lie?
“What do you have to get back to?” MacRieve asked. “Your season’s over with your team, is it no’? Your father is no longer there. Is this about the Olympics? They’re no’ out of reach, Chloe. I will move heaven and earth to get you there.”
Part of her wanted so badly to confide in him about her symptoms. Again that sense of self-preservation held her tongue. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Ach, you should know that a Lykae’s curiosity is a powerful thing.” He said this like it was an understatement. Suddenly, his gaze narrowed. “Do you have a lover back there, then?” His tone was nonchalant, but his eyes were blazing blue. “Some bloke in Seattle?”
“I’m one hundred percent committed to sports.” In the past, she’d tried to convince herself that she hadn’t dated because of training demands. But other players had managed to balance a love life and a career. She’d heard the locker room talk. “I haven’t had time for dating.” Or for the dread that inevitably accompanied it.
Her answer appeared to delight him. She could perceive him relaxing.
In fact, she was very in tune with him, her senses seemingly heightened by him. She was abundantly aware of him at every second. Merely walking beside him, she could feel the heat radiating from his skin.
What if she did fall for a werewolf like MacRieve? Dad would hate her. He might already.
No, she refused to believe that.
“Here’s the main house,” MacRieve said, gesturing toward what looked like a millionaire’s hunting lodge, decorated by a manly man. “We call it the den. It’s well-loved, lots of claw marks. And a Valkyrie threw a car on the roof no’ too long ago.”
“They’re that strong?” So cool! Maybe Fiore was a Valkyrie?
“Aye. But that’s a drop in the bucket compared to a Lykae’s strength.” He opened a heavy wooden door for her, taking her hand to lead her inside.
His was hot and rough against her own, yet the contact was electric; Chloe shivered, and stared in puzzlement at the spot where their skin touched. He too seemed affected, his brows drawing together.
This was some kind of connection—the kind she’d read about in books, the kind she’d decided was just a stupid myth.
Apparently all myths were real.
With his brogue thicker than she’d ever heard it, he said, “Ah, Chloe, lass, I just need tae . . .” He leaned in, looking for all the world like he was about to kiss her.
She found herself captivated by the prospect. Awakening! She’d had far too few kisses in her life.
But then she heard the murmur of conversation from a nearby room. Would someone come upon her and MacRieve? “Y-you said something about obstacles?” Her voice was as breathy as a porn star’s.
Looking suddenly troubled, he straightened. “Aye, then. This way to our security area.” They headed into a dimmed room.
There was a giant computer screen, like a movie backdrop, with dozens of camera fe
eds stacked and labeled: WALL 1, WALL 2, WALL 3 . . . all the way to WALL 50.
One Lykae manned the desk.
“Here’s Madadh, our Master of the Watch. Madadh, this is my mate, Chloe.”
The colossal man stood, towering over her, as tall as MacRieve with bulkier muscles. He had a straight scar that ran through his eyebrow and down his face, making him look dangerous. He seemed to be simmering with aggression. But his expression was neutral.
“Pretty big wall you’ve got here,” she said.
“Aye. It surrounds hundreds of acres.” With a polite nod, Madadh said, “I’ll leave you to it, MacRieve.”
Once he’d exited the room, she got a better look at the feeds, and her jaw slackened. Nightmare creatures teemed outside the fence, hundreds of them, with more arriving in droves.
All here for me?
SIXTEEN
Chloe hadn’t taken her eyes off the screens; Will hadn’t taken his eyes off her.
Ach, she was a bonny thing. Now that her hair was drying, it curled into fetching disarray, glossy little spikes framing her pixie features. Her changeable eyes gleamed with intelligence.
Bonny and brave. Though her heart beat with fear, you couldn’t tell by her stoic demeanor.
“This is what you saved me from?” she asked with hardly a tremor in her voice. “What I would’ve seen last night? I’m glad of the bag now. Can those things breach the wall?”
“No’ many have the stones to invade a Lykae stronghold when we’re all a hair-trigger away from turning. We protect our own, lass. Understand me, I will slaughter anyone who gets near you.”
“You must have a secret way out.”
Why was she so sodding eager to go? Females usually tripped all over themselves to get near him. Why was this one not bonding to him? “You canna leave. Chloe, as I said, these creatures will no’ kill you at first. You would no’ be so fortunate as that.”
She bit her bottom lip. “I can hide . . .” She trailed off when he shook his head.
“You lost a lot of blood at the crossroads last night. They can use it to track you. I vow to the Lore that they would find you within minutes, and that they would torture and abuse you.” By the way she gazed at his eyes, he knew they’d flickered blue. “I canna let you be hurt.”
“How long will this siege last?”
“Likely until your father is found.”
“Why can’t they track him?”
“No blood. And he’s probably camouflaging his location with mystical means anyway. He uses aspects of the Lore when it suits him.” For decades, Will’s former prison had been concealed through magic; the other prisons still were. The Order’s torques were mystically reinforced and empowered. Webb had even used a soothsayer’s help, though Nïx had clearly been furthering her own ends.
“Maybe I can get some mystical means?”
“So desperate to leave?” His face tightened. “You could purchase a concealment talisman from the witches for hundreds of thousands of dollars—oh, wait, they’re the ones who kidnapped and sold you!”
Her lips thinned. “If my dad showed up here, what would happen to him? MacRieve, I can’t let him be hurt. My mom died when I was a baby, and he was all I had. He’s been a great dad, kind and supportive. My biggest complaint is that he always travels way too much.”
“And guess what he’s been doing on those trips,” he said, hating the stricken look on her face, hating that he’d caused it.
In a softer tone, she asked, “What did my father do to you?”
Will avoided her eyes. “I canna speak of it. No’ yet.”
He could tell she wanted to press, but to her credit, she didn’t. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready, I guess.”
“In any case, you’re safest here.”
She started to pace. “So here I’ll be staying?”
“Could you sound more put out? It’s no’ so bad here. I am no’ so bad. Why are you so averse to me? I know you’re attracted to me.” Mayhap that was the way to get her to bond—by using her lust against her. Lykae were notoriously brutal warriors, but they could also be sly tricksters, able to coax and maneuver their prey as expertly as they could seize it.
She straightened. “You can’t know that.”
“I scented you in the shower last night. And then there’s the matter of your dreams. Mayhap they included me?”
Her blush said bingo. Satisfaction filled him.
She pursed her lips. “Attraction is involuntary. But if I had control over it, I wouldn’t be attracted to you.”
“Why no’?” he asked, his mood gone surly just like that.
“I don’t have time. I need to find my dad, MacRieve. We left things unsaid between us. Not to mention that you want to murder him. Plus, if you must know, I’m due at Olympic training camp in Europe in less than two weeks.”
That soon? Still, he was determined to get her there. He’d figure it out later. For now, he needed some kind of bond with her to soothe this feral restlessness he felt. While he’d been running headlong toward her, she’d been looking for the exit. “I will no’ speak of any of this today.”
“Why?”
“Today is my day to convince you to accept me as yours. You will give it to me.” When he moved in even closer, she backed up until her arse met the desk.
Before she could say a word, he’d lifted her on top of it, easing his hips between her knees. He caught a peek down her blouse, was thrilled to spy the black bra he’d put in the wardrobe last night, the one he’d imagined molded over her plump breasts.
She moistened her lips, her breaths shallowing, her body already trembling with lust.
The way to bind her to him was obviously through sex; sex was impossible. Gods, I wish I was . . . right.
But then, he didn’t have to take them all the way, just her. All he had to do was give Chloe a mind-scrambling orgasm while keeping his beast in check.
Two problems. That bastard might slip the leash. And Will had never set out to pleasure a female.
For all these centuries, his beast hadn’t strayed from perfunctory sex in one animalistic position. It got a release, the nymph made her conquest, all was well. Will hadn’t heard any complaints. Of course, he hadn’t exactly stuck around afterward.
Kissing, oral sex, foreplay, these things were foreign to him.
I’ll figure it the hell out.
When he imagined delving his tongue between Chloe’s thighs, he shot hard as steel, and his beast stirred. He gritted his teeth, struggling to keep it caged.
Chloe tilted her head. “And why would I give you this day?”
“We’re going to make a wager, you and I. At the end of today, if you still want to leave me, I’ll try to get you a concealment talisman from the witches.”
“Truly?”
“Aye.” He was such a twatting liar. But his ploy was working. She’d begun to relax—because she thought she was heading out tomorrow on her doomed quest to find her father.
At least she was loyal. Along with touch, sex, and food, Lykae revered loyalty. “If you give me a sporting chance to win you over, and I fail, then I’ll help you leave.”
Her gaze was on his lips when she murmured, “What would one day hurt?” Then she blinked up at him as if her own words had shocked her.
“Verra well.” This close, he could see her long lashes were tipped with the tiniest fringe of blond. “We start now.”
“Do one of those vows to the Lore first.”
He froze. How to word this? “If you truly give yourself up to this day, enjoying everything I have to give you”—orgasms—“and still want to leave, I will help you”—for a total of two minutes before tossing you over my shoulder and dragging you back.
Having played soccer all her life, Chloe could recognize when another player was aiming to score. MacRieve planned on luring her to stay with sex! And it might work!
No, no, no.
Yes. Yes. Yes. She’d promised herself. And who better to lose her virg
inity with than a male like this? She could only imagine how experienced an immortal would be. She’d keep her heart closed off, sate some of these pressing urges, then be on her way tomorrow. “Okay, you have a deal.”
“Good.” He backed up, allowing her to hop off the desk. “I’ve something else to show you. My favorite spot on the entire property.” Well, his mood had certainly improved. His grin was about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.
At the front entrance, when he opened the door for her, she said, “Why are your nails black?” She’d noticed last night.
“They’re claws.”
When he briefly flared them, she swallowed. “Any other anatomical differences between you and a standard-issue human?”
He bit his full bottom lip. “Aye, there’s a major one. It’s definitely something you’ve never seen before.”
“Oh, God, what?”
“Better if I just show you.” With a grave look, he started on the top button of his jeans.
Right when she was about to scream/faint/smile with delight, she realized he was janking her.
“MacRieve!” She swatted his hip, and he chuckled.
Now he was going to have a sense of humor on top of everything else?
“No other anatomical differences. Though you might term what you’ll find in my jeans superhuman.”
She knew he had to be kidding, but now he’d gotten her thinking about it.
They started down a new path. “As per the terms of our deal,” he continued, “you’re to give yourself up to this for a day, which means you should act like my mate.”
“What do mates do?”
“Hold my hand.” He took hers in his. “Look up at me adoringly.”
So not a problem.
Though they’d barely passed anyone earlier, now more people were out. He’d initially tried to avoid them, but then MacRieve seemed to get caught up, introducing her as his mate with his shoulders back and his chin lifted.
His cockiness was breathtaking.
Everyone she met was kind to her, seeming just like regular folks. Well, except for the fact that they were uniformly good-looking. The women all looked the same age, and possessed an earthy type of sensuality. The males? She’d yet to see one that her team wouldn’t catcall from their bus.
