Avet, Danica - Ain't No Bull [The Veil 4] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Danica Avet

  She spun on her heel and started back towards the Black Dog Camp. “Did you wash your clothes yet?”

  He didn’t move for a while, watching her walk away from him. Gods that was a view he could get used to just so long as she came back. “Uh, no, not yet.”

  “Good.”

  She didn’t speak again the entire trek back to the truck. Her strides were just as energetic and long as they’d been when they started out that morning. Grant thought about shifting to his bull form since it would make the walk a little easier, but didn’t want to miss the chance to talk to her.

  “Did you grow up in the Blood Maiden Tribe?” he asked after about fifteen minutes of silence. He wondered where the carefree chatterbox of two nights ago had gone. He missed her endless talking.

  “No.”

  When she said no more, Grant pressed. “How long have you been with them?”

  She kicked a log out of her way. The cold suited her, bringing out the rose in her cheeks. The snow was a perfect backdrop for her dark hair and alabaster skin. If he were a more sentimental man, he’d think she looked like a snow princess or something romantic like that. As it was, he just wanted to push her up against a tree and fuck her blind.

  “I’ve been with them for about twenty-eight years.” The muttered sentence reminded him he was trying to learn more about her—and not from the inside out.

  “Oh. Where were you before that?” He really was curious. He hadn’t realized Amazons wandered from tribe to tribe. He thought they stayed in their family groups.

  “I moved around a lot,” was all she said, her tone clearly stating she did not want to have this conversation.

  Interesting. He decided to change the subject. “Ricky and I saw you had bear claw scars. Is that why you don’t like bears?”

  She stopped dead in her tracks, her head tilting to the side. “Why do you ask?”

  There was caution in her voice, caution and a thread of fear? Why would she be scared of a question? Grant strode up next to her to see that her face had paled to the color of the snow at their feet. Her pupils were pinpricks of black in the cloudy brown of her eyes.

  “Shit, are you okay?” His hands circled the tops of her arms, pulling her into his body. There was a faint tremble in her limbs as though she was experiencing shock.

  To witness her change from badass Amazon tracker to frightened female made Grant want to tear someone’s head off. He’d figured there was some trauma in her past—what else could account for her fainting at the sight of Ricky? But he hadn’t thought the mere memory of it could send her spinning out of control.

  Because out of control she was, burrowing deeper into his body instead of fighting him off as she normally would. Sorry to have caused such a strong woman to seek solace, Grant rocked her in his arms, letting her pull warmth and security from him.

  It was a moment out of time. He held her, not as a potential lover, but as a woman with hurts that still caused her pain. Grant had never felt that kind of connection with a woman before, always leaving his lovers before anything could develop. Of course, none of them had been his mate, he reminded himself as he inhaled the sweet rose scent of Isola.

  Grant didn’t know how long he stood there holding his mate, but he adored every minute of it. She fit perfectly against him, her curves molding to his harder frame.

  Her shudders trickled away bit by bit until she was still. The movement of her breasts against his chest the only indication that she was a sentient being. As though his body understood the crisis had ended, his cock hardened against her soft belly.

  He stared over her head, trying to think of anything to cool the lust scalding him from the inside out. Baseball, meat eaters, Ricky in a pink tutu. Nothing worked.

  Right when his body reached melting point, she pulled away from him. She ducked her head low as though embarrassed by her weakness, but he couldn’t deny that her show of vulnerability touched something deep inside him. Even more important though, was the feeling of satisfaction that she’d taken comfort from him.

  “Isola,” he rasped, grabbing her hands and giving them a little shake to encourage her to look up at him. “I’m sorry about whatever happened. Maybe if you talked about it—”

  She broke away, her usual cockiness making its appearance. “Thanks, Dr. Phil, but I’m a hard nut to crack.” Her smile was as false as his great-grandfather’s teeth and just as scary. “Let’s get back to your house. I have a theory about those nymphs.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  She was an idiot. Other people had said so. From her mother with the “incident” to Saga, Izzy had been called an idiot several times, but she’d never applied that tag to herself until now. If it wouldn’t have looked so obvious, she’d have banged her head on the nearest tree trunk.

  Had she really let the minotaur…comfort her? She closed her eyes, praying for the ground to open and swallow her whole. Grant wasn’t the kind of male a woman could show the least bit vulnerability around. She’d already passed out in front of him once, dammit, and she’d nearly done it again.

  She stopped dead in her tracks, frowning ahead.

  “What is it?” Grant asked, stepping up next to her. His eyes narrowed as he studied the woods.

  Izzy tilted her head to the side without replying. She had a thought she needed to pursue and Grant couldn’t come with her. Ignoring him for the moment, she narrowed her concentration inward. Since coming to Wyoming, she’d fainted once and nearly fainted another time. What caused it? It couldn’t be Grant. He was hot yeah, but he wasn’t sucking the air out of the atmosphere or anything.

  She was pretty sure she wasn’t dying of something. She felt perfectly fine other than the bear-induced fainting episodes. Frowning in thought, she centered herself, or tried to. Most Amazons managed without a problem, but Izzy had always had trouble finding her center. That’s why her spirit walk had taken such a disastrous turn. She pulled back her lips in a snarl at the thought. Not gonna think about it. Nope.

  Her eyes screwed shut in concentration. Her spirit teetered before settling in. Peace washed through her body, the sounds of the snow-hushed woods filtering through her soul. Tension flowed from her limbs, leaving her loose and relaxed. That’s when she heard the spell attached to her psyche sing.

  “Isola?”

  Damn bull was a pain in her ass! Her eyes snapped open and she glared up at him. She would not let the concern in his face sway her. No way, Jose Cuervo. But damned if he didn’t look cute with his tousled blond hair and solemn blue eyes. She caught her dreamy sigh before it escaped and scowled at him.

  “Do you mind? I’m tryin’ to get in touch with my fuckin’ spiritual self here.”

  She shouldn’t have wanted to melt at the quirk of his sexy lips, but she did. She was pretty sure the snow was melting under her feet she was so hot for him. Why did he have to have such a good sense of humor? Bastard.

  “Your ‘fuckin’ spiritual self,’ huh?” That drawl was lethal, she was sure of it.

  “Yeah, you know to figure out when, how, and why someone attached a terror spell to me.”

  The sympathy melted from his handsome face, replaced by dark anger. “A terror spell?” Ooh, that growl left her nipples hard and tingling.

  Suppressing a shudder, Izzy nodded. “It magnifies a person’s natural fear.” She waved her hand. “Let’s get back to your house. There’s some shit I need to check into.”

  “How?” he demanded. At her blank expression, he waved a hand back the way they had just come. “How did you know they took a portal? How do you know someone put a spell on you?” He crossed his arms over his chest, managing to look both sexy and threatening. Hubba, hubba for Alpha males, she thought. “And how did you find a trail I couldn’t see?”

  “Because I’m amazingly cute and smart?”

  He deepened his stance, his feet spread apart. He looked like an unmovable wall. Of course, if she really wanted to move him, she could, but he was kind of cute when he was getting all growly
. “Isola.” She really shouldn’t take such pleasure in him using her full name. She usually hated it. “Are you paying attention to me at all, woman?”

  “Hm?”

  “Gah!” He thrust one big hand through his hair, his growl of frustration sounding eerily similar to Saga’s. “How do you know all of this stuff?”

  “I’m an Amazon, Grant.” She rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t mean we’re just über-sexy chicks who run around in tight clothes and fight, you know. We’re Veilerians, too. We have a special skill set that helps us remain competitive with the shifters and magical beings.” She flung her hand to the side where she could see the vague outline of a very old battlefield. “I know that spot over there is probably where your great-great-grandfather fought to secure this land.” She looked the other way. “I know that if you follow this trail, you’ll find your cousin Ricky and his latest lady love getting busy in a line shack.” She pointed back the way they’d just come. “And I know that those nymphs had to have taken a portal or been flown out of here because their trail stops in this dimension. Wherever they went, however they went, they left this plane, which means we’re dealing with something other than pissy nymphs.”

  * * * *

  Grant looked down at the earnest expression in his mate’s eyes. He’d known Amazons were more than women warriors, but he hadn’t realized how much more they were.

  “Do all Amazons have your abilities?” Somehow he doubted it.

  She shook her head. “We all have different skills. I can…read places where people have been and where they’ve gone. It’s made me one of the best trackers in my tribe.” She said it simply, proudly.

  “What about the spell? How do you know someone put one on you?”

  That pissed him off. A lot. He hated seeing her scared and vulnerable. Yeah, it was nice to be the one she clung to, but he hated that she had to do it in the first place. This was a woman who was born to stand on her own. But with a mate at her side, he amended.

  “It’s hard to explain,” she began hesitantly. He set his expression. She sighed. “C’mon, we’ll talk on the way back.”

  Grant stared hard at her until he was satisfied that she wouldn’t try to wiggle out of telling him more about herself. With a short nod, he indicated that they should go on.

  She rolled her gorgeous brown eyes at him. The little smart-ass. “Thank you so much,” she muttered, glaring at him before turning her attention back to the path ahead of them.

  Grant’s lips curled as soon as she looked away. Gods, he could love this woman. He almost broke stride the thought was so sudden and unexpected. He’d only known her maybe forty hours and he was on the verge of falling for her. His heart pounded like a tympani. He hadn’t expected to become emotionally attached so soon.

  “…Amazon secrets to a minotaur.” She shook her head. “Queen Albreda is gonna kick my ass all over the bayou for this.” She threw her shoulders back and tilted her skin at the sky in defiance. “Okay, fine.” She took a deep breath and looked at him out the corner of her eye.

  Grant’s breath caught in anticipation. She was finally going to open up to him. Give him some real information as to who Isola Malone was.

  “I see dead people.”

  He paused, a frown pulling at his mouth. Why did that sound familiar? And what did dead people have to do with spells? Isola watched him, that devil-may-care sparkle in her dark eyes. He wanted to laugh, but he didn’t want to encourage her. She was impossible!

  “Run,” he growled, his body tightening in anticipation of the chase.

  For a second, she looked confused and Grant reveled in the knowledge that he’d thrown her for a loop. She stared at him with the adorably blank expression he was getting used to before it dawned on her that he was going to run her down like prey. Challenge burst into life, filling her eyes with heat and her cheeks with color.

  Then she was gone.

  Grant threw his head back, letting the anticipation grow. Minotaurs were warriors who’d fought in epic battles since the beginning of time, and he was no different. He’d show Isola just what she’d unleashed.

  With a bellowing roar, he shifted to his minotaur form and let the power course through him. His acute hearing picked up the rapid thump of her heart as she slipped through the trees as silent as a ghost. He’d catch her. They both knew it. It was just a matter of when.

  * * * *

  Izzy bit back a squeal of laughter as she heard Grant crashing through the woods after her. She never would have guessed playing hide-and-seek with a male could be so much fun. She had to give the minotaur credit, he knew how to play.

  They’d been at it for at least an hour, playing in the woods. She wasn’t even sure if she was letting him close, or if he was better at tracking than she’d originally thought. Whatever the case, there had been several close calls where she’d had to rely on her ability to remain motionless to avoid being caught.

  Hunkering down in the hollow of a tree, Izzy held her breath. She was cold, sore, and felt full of…fuck, was it happiness? Momentarily stunned to realize she was happy, she was slow to realize he had her cornered.

  She bit her lip, staring at the hoofs and bulging lower half of his minotaur form. She hadn’t seen it at the bar. She hadn’t wanted to see it because she instinctively knew that this form, more than any other, would appeal to her wild streak. Looking at the black coat stretched taut over the thick muscles of his legs, Izzy knew she was in trouble.

  Something thumped against the trunk of the tree she was hiding in and it shook around her. Primitive memory kept her from making a sound, though the blood pounded through her body. Either Grant’s horned head or his strong arms slammed into the tree again. She heard wood creak as small flakes drifted onto her head.

  A sneeze threatened, but she held it back. Gods, she wanted to run screaming out of her hiding place, wanted Grant to chase her. What the fuck was wrong with her? She was an Amazon. She did the chasing, not the other way around! But no matter how much she fought it, her body wanted to be dominated, wanted to be hunted down like a beast and taken. She shivered at the thought. Oh hells, no. Hells no!

  “Isola,” he growled in a voice that was deep and rough like gravel. “Come out and take your punishment.”

  Punishment? Who was he kidding? In answer, she huddled into herself, wrapping her arms around her knees and lowered her head. Yeah, it was a cowardly move, but for once, she was choosing intelligence over spontaneity. It wasn’t hard to decide either. She wasn’t big into punishment. She shuddered.

  “Isola.”

  Had his voice always been so demanding? Had it always sent little flutters of arousal through her body? He growled and she knew he could smell her desire for him. She squeezed her eyes closed.

  The tree shook again, this time wood splintering beneath the punishing blows it took. Izzy hunkered down and waited for something to fall on her head.

  She didn’t know how much time passed, only that daylight seemed to creep up on her. Risking a peek through squinted eyes, she saw that the tree trunk was strewn around her, yet not a single branch or chunk had touched her. The hollow she’d taken refuge in was still standing, though it was now open at the top.

  Fresh, cold air whistled through the opening and straight down her spine. Shivering, she peered around for Grant. And saw him standing right behind her. He’d shifted back to his human form, his very naked, very aroused human form.

  She sprang to her feet, but the hollow wasn’t quite big enough for her hips. She was fucking stuck with a crazy-ass minotaur who wanted to paddle her tender backside! Screeching in frustration, she pushed and pushed against the wood, trying to free herself.

  She heard him chuckle, the sound trailing up and down her nape like a tongue and setting off tiny fireworks in her body. His big arms came around her, hugging her close to his hot skin. It was both comforting because it was warm, and frightening because his cock pressed against the small of her back.

  “Oh, Isola, were you sca
red of me?” He sounded amused and just the tiniest bit hurt. He kissed the side of her neck. “I’d never hurt you, babe. You should know that.”

  It took several attempts before she could find enough spit in her mouth to speak, but when she did, her voice came out as a croak. “I’m not scared of anyone.”

  He hummed against her neck, his teeth nibbling on her skin. “That’s right. You’re very brave, sweetheart.” Kiss. “And sexy.” Suckling kiss. “And very, very naughty.” Bite.

  Izzy’s head lolled to the side and her body went limp as sizzling power swept through her body. It started at the spot where Grant’s teeth were embedded in her skin and pulsed outward until it settled in her womb. She was moaning incessantly, her body going from fearful to fully aroused in seconds.

  When his hands moved to cup her breasts, Izzy arched her back as much as she could. She wanted to feel his hands on every inch of her skin.

  “Isola,” he moaned into her tender neck, his hot breath washing over her. “I want you.”

  Alarm bells, somewhere in the sensible part of her mind, went off. He wanted her because he thought she was his fucking mate. Mating equals bad, Isola Marsha Malone, remember?

  “No,” she mumbled through passion-swollen lips. She wanted to sink into the sinful decadence of Grant’s embrace.

  His thumbs swept over her nipples as his hands massaged the full globes. Izzy gasped, her back arched so sharply, she felt pain in her hips. Why were her hips hurting? She glanced down, past the awe-inspiring sight of her tits cupped in Grant’s big hands, down to the tree trunk she wore like a skirt. Right. She’d been what? Hiding? Hiding. Yes. His thumbs and forefingers pinched her nipples, erasing all thought.

  Oh gods, she was going to die if she didn’t have him!

  “Mine,” he rasped, his voice a claiming and a warning all in one.