by Olivia Arran
“I don’t know if I can, not after Bert,” she whispered, her eyes pleading with me to understand. “I want to, Oliver, I really do. But—”
Not giving her a chance to finish the sentence, I covered her lips with mine, stealing away any reasons or excuses she might come up with. She wanted to, she wasn’t saying no. For a man not used to emotions, this sure was a fucking roller coaster of a ride.
Breaking off, I leaned my head against hers. “I’ll wait for you, as long as it takes. I want you to know that. You’re it for me. My soul is patchy, blackened by the things I’ve done. You’re my other half, the good side to my bad, my only chance at redemption in this world and the next. If you choose to be with me, or not, I will always fight for you. Let me do this, for you and for me.”
She blinked at me, her lashes spiked with tears. “Okay,” she eventually said, the words huffing out. “I don’t know what to say.”
I wiped a stray tear with my thumb, chasing it down her cheek. Dammit, I had vowed not to see her cry again. “Say nothing.”
“I...I don’t know what normal is, I think that’s the problem. I don’t know what to expect from a normal life.”
“And I do? Anyway, you’re better than normal. You deserve fun and excitement, and to be showered with love and kindness.”
She snorted, her hand flying to cover her mouth.
The sound delighted me—it was pure Ana. I decided that I would do everything in my power to make her snort at least once every day.
“Excitement? I think I’ve had enough of that to last me a lifetime. I’d settle for comfortable happiness. Just knowing what the next day will bring, and knowing that it will be okay.”
She sounded lost and vulnerable as she wished for something so simple, yet so foreign to her that I had to grit my teeth, raging against the unfairness of her life so far. “Comfortable happiness sounds fine by me.”
“It is decided then,” the dragon shifter declared, obviously having been listening in, “you will fight Bert and carry out the sentence.”
***
Ana
Tugging off their shirts, they flung them to the side of the circle and started unbuttoning their pants.
I sucked in a breath at the sight of Oliver, my first time seeing him undressing. Not the ideal situation, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate the view.
Muscles tensed and rippled, dancing under skin dark with ink and scars. Flat pectoral ridges gave way to rows of abs, the kind a woman could trace with her finger…or her tongue.
I was pretty sure my mouth was hanging open, and I could only hope and pray my tongue wasn’t lolling out.
Indents carved into the sides of his hips pulled my eyes lower, then lower still, blond hair snaking down the center until it met his groin.
He shoved his jeans down.
Holy fuck! The tattoos snaking down his chest and curling around his stomach wrapped around his hips and—
I resisted the urge to sprint around the outside of the clearing just to see if they decorated his ass too. After all, I was pretty sure I would be treated to a full view soon.
Anyway, I was enjoying the full-frontal way too much to even think about moving.
Or breathing.
Men just weren’t made like that. Were they?
I couldn’t drag my eyes away from the long length of his cock, thicker than I had ever seen before, even at rest.
No wonder Bert had to kidnap women to keep them.
But was it too much? Sex up until I’d met Oliver, well, it had been something I dreaded, something I associated with pain—and that thing looked like it might cause pain.
A vision swam into my mind of Oliver crouched over me, his tongue coaxing magic from my skin, his fingers gentle and knowing. His kisses, hot and wet and delicious.
He would never hurt me, and he said we were true mates—that we were destined to be together. Shoving my worries out of my mind, I finally managed to drag my eyes back to his face, self-conscious of the fact that I had been staring at his cock for what must have been at least a couple of minutes.
My eyes skipped and bumped their way up his body, reaching his mouth, which was curved in a smirk. Heat flooded my cheeks, nearly as hot as the slow burn that coiled in my belly, his knowing look fanning the already smoldering flames.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine,” Kara murmured from where she stood next to James.
I coughed, choking on my reply and wishing I could physically fan myself. It might have not been so bad if Oliver had deigned to give me a little preview instead of a “Whoa, there you go” full-on public striptease.
Kara glanced at me in concern, then her expression cleared, her lips widening into a shit-eating grin. “We grow our shifters big out here.”
“Kara!” James growled, but he couldn’t pretend to be mad at the not-so-subtle compliment, his cheeks glowing under his tan.
I managed a garbled response, and Kara winked before turning her attention back to the fight that was about to start.
The two men circled each other, blue eyes sparking with brown, both narrowed as they assessed and weighed their opponent.
There was that ass I had been—
My breath caught in my throat as Bert feinted to the right, doubling back and dodging under Oliver’s guard, swinging a meaty fist to connect directly with Oliver’s ribs.
Oliver didn’t flinch, instead continuing to circle, his jaw clenched, shoulders and arms loose.
Jumping back out of the way, Bert mimicked him, throwing out taunting insults under his breath, dodging in and out, landing punch after punch.
“Why isn’t he doing anything?”
James laid a hand on my shoulder in a move that was meant to reassure, but I could feel his tension, the twitch of his fingers as Bert landed yet another blow. “He will,” James growled over the thwack of flesh and the putrid insults that spewed from Bert’s mouth.
When the next fist connected, I flinched, my side aching as though I could feel Oliver’s pain. Though he obviously couldn’t as he still wasn’t flinching, just moving in a steady arc, his steps light and measured, his gaze tracking Bert’s movements.
I’d been avoiding looking at Bert up until now, not wanting to see him naked, not wanting to be reminded, but I forced myself to look. He was covered in sweat, the dust from the ground sticking to him, streaking as rivulets ran down his back. I kept my eyes above his waist, I had seen enough of that to last me a lifetime, thank you very much.
It didn’t stop me from wanting to march over and rip his balls off though.
I flinched as Bert landed another blow, this time his claws extended, raking down Oliver’s chest, leaving a trail of crimson in their wake.
What was Oliver doing? I bit back the urge to scream at him. He had wanted to fight Bert and for what? So he could let Bert pummel him to death?
“Wait…” James murmured, his eyes glued to the circling men.
Wait for what?
“Do you admit to your crimes?” Oliver’s voice was a low rumble, startling me.
Bert snarled at him, kicking out with his feet. “Fight, damn you!”
“If you take responsibility for your crimes I’ll make it quick. Painless if I have to.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you do, you’re going to pay for screwing my mate.”
Oliver appeared to freeze, the fluid motion of his feet stuttering and digging into the dirt.
“Steady…” James whispered.
“Do you take responsibility and ask for forgiveness?”
“Fuck no. I’d do it all again, if I could. Including fucking a baby into your true mate. Several times,” Bert added, sneering and landing another punch. “I’m going to win, and if I do then they can’t try me again. I’ll be free. Then I’m going to fuck her all over again, and I think I’ll keep you alive, just so you can watch.”
Run! The command screamed inside my head, my legs already tensing to obey. I wouldn’t let him take me again, I couldn’t!
The crowd blurred around me, my ragged breathing echoing loud in my ears along with the crunch of dirt as the men circled. My heart thundered, threatening to burst out of my chest.
Then my eyes locked onto Oliver. I could run, or I could trust him to finish this. Trust him to be the man I thought he was, a good one. He wouldn’t fail, not when so much was as stake. I had to believe that.
“Good choice,” James said out of the corner of his mouth. “Now here comes the real action.”
At James’ nod, Oliver spun, his limbs flying in a whirl of movement, the glint of claws catching in the moonlight, muscles flexing and twisting…growing?
What the—?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Oliver
Power flooded me, racing through my blood as my wolf thrust to the front, eager for the taste of blood. Muscles bunching, I channeled the rage that had been building, the pure fury and helplessness that came from knowing what Bert had done to Ana. My Ana.
My mate, my wolf growled, putting on a spurt of speed.
It was time to take this bastard down, but not before making him hurt a little. Okay, maybe a lot.
My lips stretched across my teeth, and I knew my grin was feral, a direct reflection of the darkness coursing through me, eating at me.
This is the last time.
I had made a promise I had every intention of keeping. Even if she didn’t want me after seeing me like this.
Slashing out, I dug my claws into Bert’s chest, my other hand coming up to score his thigh. And again, this time spinning and slashing across his back. He stumbled, quickly regaining his footing, whirling around to face me.
“This is what I’m talking about,” he snarled, pulling his arm back.
I drove my fist into his jaw, sending him sprawling before he even had a chance to let the punch fly.
No, this is what I’m talking about.
Stalking over, I dragged him up off the ground, one hand clamped around his neck, squeezing, tightening inch by inch. I knew exactly how to judge when a man would pass out, exactly how much he could take before teetering on the edge.
Claws scrabbled and slashed at me.
Insignificant.
I tilted my head, leaning closer. The tell was always in the eyes, in that moment when they moved from being angry, to scared, then…a glaze would steal over them, a dimming of their soul as they struggled not to submit.
Bert’s struggling weakened, his mouth lolling open.
I loosened my grip, just a fraction.
He had to suffer what he had done to Ana.
Using a single claw, I sliced it down his chest in a lazy sweep, drawing a jagged line from throat to groin. The fact that he was going to die soon didn’t make a damn bit of difference. He could feel pain now.
“Ask for forgiveness and I’ll finish it,” I growled in a throaty whisper, leaning in close so I could smell the whiff of panic, the tang of fear.
Please don’t, my wolf snarled, something I wholeheartedly agreed with, but honor demanded that I offer him the choice. My claw edged closer to his flaccid dick, my intentions clear.
Bert’s eyes rolled in his head, his chest wheezing as he fought to draw breath. “Fuck. You!” he spat out, manic determination hardening his face, his hands closing around my arm, piercing and shredding my skin.
Leaning even closer, I whispered, “Thank you for that.”
Fear flashed across his face and I drank it in, the emotion heady and satisfying.
“Oliver!”
I stiffened, the woman’s cry an intrusion I could do without.
She could wait.
“Oliver! No! Look at me!”
I don’t want to, my voice merged with my wolf in way that sounded suspiciously like a whine.
But I had to. She had asked, and I would do anything for her. My mate.
Tilting my head a fraction I met her gaze, her brown eyes soft with confusion and…fear?
“Ana?” I wanted to ask her what was wrong, why she was looking at me like that, but the voice that came out of my mouth was husky and guttural, barely intelligible.
“You said your soul was black, that you wanted redemption and that I was it for you.”
I did, but—
“We also said that we would let go of the past, move forward.”
Okay, we did, but—
“So let go. Don’t let him blacken your soul, he’s not worth it. You don’t want to be that man anymore. I know you, the real you deep inside. You make me laugh and smile and feel good about myself—that’s the man I want to spend time with, not this one. Choose to finish him with the compassion and honor I know is in you, not like this.”
I swallowed hard, a lump in my throat. She believed in me, thought I was better than I really was. Even now, seeing the darkness inside me, a darkness I had always welcomed and nurtured because it stunted my ability to feel. My mind stuttered on the thought. For the first time in my life since being rejected as a child I wanted to feel, so why was I pushing it away? Why was I seeking revenge when she wanted to move past it?
Because I was angry. So fucking angry that I couldn’t see straight. He had hurt her and I couldn’t do anything about it, couldn’t stop it from happening, couldn’t make it better. I was fucking helpless in the face of her pain.
“It hurts, seeing you hurting,” I whispered, trying to put my revelation into words, begging her to understand.
“And it sucks for me too, but this isn’t the way. This isn’t going to make it better. Love me better, Oliver. Cherish me, and hold me, and just love me.”
Bert let out a strangled sound, his eyes bulging as he frantically swiped at my chest, tearing into skin.
Ana gasped, her lips quivering as she took in the damage Bert had done.
“It will heal,” I said, mainly to draw her eyes back to my face. I needed to look her in the eyes when I asked my next question. “Does this mean...” Hope soared in my chest, pushing back the blackness I had let crowd in.
She nodded, her face frantic with worry. “Yes! Dammit, I can’t bear to see you getting hurt!”
***
Ana
I couldn’t stand it! Blood was running down his chest, his skin shredded by Bert’s claws, and he wanted to have a heart-to-heart?
Now?
Not running had been the most stupid and the best thing I had ever done. Somehow this man had wormed his way into my heart, just by being there. By being him. While watching the fight I had tried to imagine what my life would be like without Bert in it. How freeing it would be not to worry, or be scared. What Josh and I could do, where we would go. And every time I imagined a scenario, he was there too.
Every. Single. Time.
Even something as simple as eating breakfast without having to look over my shoulder, Oliver was there with us.
A family.
And now he was getting ready to ruin it all.
“Please, Oliver. Choose me and finish it,” I whispered, deliberately ignoring the fact that he didn’t look much like the Oliver I knew right at this moment. His body was all kinds of stretched, his muscles like barrels, and his eyes? They were glowing silver, eerily beautiful.
He grinned, pleasure lighting his eyes, and I tried not to flinch at the sight of his teeth which looked suspiciously pointy.
“I choose you,” he growled, and I had a second to close my eyes, a glimpse of his hand slicing through the air embedded behind my eyelids.
A thud vibrated through the ground, traveling up into my feet.
I kept my eyes squeezed shut.
“It’s done! Now everyone, please fuck off home,” Oliver growled, his voice loud over the cheering that was sweeping through the clearing.
Seemed like everyone had hated Bert nearly as much as me.
I still refused to open my eyes, half scared of what I would see, that it was only a dream and that Bert was really still alive.
The clearing fell silent, the only sound my ragged breathing in my ears.
I squinted, just enough so I could make out that Oliver stood directly in front of me, his body returned to normal, thank God, and a suspicious-looking lump covered by a blanket was on the ground behind him.
“Is that—?” I started to ask, then stopped, feeling like an idiot. Of course it was. What I really meant to ask was is he dead?
“He’s gone from your life,” Oliver replied, and I assumed he was either reading my face or he knew what I needed to hear.
I relaxed my eyes, quashing a shudder as I glanced at his chest. He was right, he looked to be healing, but he was still a stinking mess. And he had his jeans back on. Dammit!
Glancing down he chuckled. “I’ll clean up when we get back to the house.”
“We’re going straight back?” His words threw me. He obviously hadn’t understood what I had been saying.
His hand froze in its task of rubbing his discarded T-shirt over his chest, a gesture I had been enjoying, admiring the flex of his bicep and the sheen of freshly wiped muscle. “Unless…you don’t want to?” He sounded uncertain, and if I could have kicked myself, I would have.
I needed him to know he didn’t have to pussyfoot around me, that he should treat me like any other woman. That I was strong enough to take it, to take him.
I crossed my arms, deliberately tapping my foot as I raked my eyes over him, cataloging each part of him in slow, luxurious detail. “I said yes, didn’t I? What more of an invitation do you want?”
“But...but you also said you couldn’t bear to see me getting hurt?”
“They’re not mutually exclusive, you know. I can say yes and not want you to get hurt.”
Understanding dawned on his face, my words finally getting through.
“Come with me,” he said, grabbing my hand and tugging me toward the forest.
Laughing inside at his eagerness, I followed him willingly, nearly running into the back of him when he stopped all of a sudden.
“Um, uh, did you mean—?” he screwed his face up, obviously trying to search for the right words judging by the flush creeping up his neck.
