by Scott, Talyn
“Blythe, there aren’t any white knights in our world, and that includes me. But you could pretend Rock is your knight errant,” he chuckled then, “I won’t mind.”
She shook her head at that thought. Rock had been her friend almost as long as Ryan had. “Use him? That’s sad and pathetic.”
“Oh, he wants to be used. He wants you. When a werewolf finds his celestially appointed mate, Blythe,” he explained, his laughter fading, “you haven’t a clue. Do you remember all those years we spent apart?”
“Yes, I’m sorry for those.”
Ice green eyes melted her, pleading for her to understand. “After a werewolf finds his mate, he will never give her the option of staying away from him. Never. It’s where the term soul mate comes from. Brides and their vampires or werewolves and their mates are soul mates. All appointed by nature.”
Her body sure recognized Rock. “He came to me in a strange dream,” she admitted. “Something was chasing me in the marsh, growling, and zeroing in on me with feral, blue eyes.” Her bottom lip trembled, her nervousness coming back. “Is it too late, already?”
Sixten reached up, tracing the back of a claw over her mouth. “I’m afraid it is. Once a werewolf has his sights set on his mate, that particular female’s life changes instantly. And as reluctant as you are to hear this, as I’ve explained in every way I can think of, it’s for the better, Blythe.” She swallowed roughly and he continued in a husky tone, “Tell me about your dream. Was there anything else besides the chasing in the marsh that you remember?”
“Not up for discussion.”
“No?”
Her skin heated. Rock had chased her, but Kash was the one who ended up sharing their bed. “I’m embarrassed and frustrated over it.”
“By your changing scent, I’d say it was definitely a dirty one,” he murmured in a playful tone. “Did your werewolf catch you?”
“Apart from being chased, no werewolf entered the…dirty parts.”
“Dirty parts? Umm,” he groaned against her thigh, licking the inside. “I want time for dirty parts now.” A different kind of hiss left him – one she was familiar with - as he trailed his tongue northward. “I want to hunt you. God, I want to hunt you, angel.” He pushed her down on the bed, hovering over her. “Chase you in the dark. Listen as your heels clip a deserted walkway.” He nipped the underside of her knee and she responded with a startled yelp. “Build your adrenalin high, until your blood sings for me. Fuck yeah, every time I think of feeding from anyone else, I want to die.” He bit into his finger, startling her. “I can smell your fear.”
“Sixten.” She pushed up on her elbows, crab crawling on the bed. “You’re acting crazy again.”
“Am I?” He smiled, his own blood dripping from his fangs. He brought his hand over her face, the thick droplets jelling, dangling above her. “Taste me the way I’ve tasted you.”
The first drop fell, hitting her cheek. “You’re trying to bond with me?”
“How can I forge something that’s already there?” He hung his index finger inside the corner of her mouth, pulling down. “We are bonded.” When he wiggled his hand, more drops fell onto her tongue. “Fuck, that’s hot, Blythe.” Beads of perspiration dotted his forehead. He tossed his hair from his face, though some strands stuck to his sweat-dampened skin. “Swallow me.”
A moan left her, he tasted nothing of Gianni, and she wanted this. “More.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes.” He dipped his finger all the way inside, watching in astonished interest as she enjoyed his flavor. The look on his incredible face rewarded her, but his blood was what turned her inside out. Something deep within clawed at her. The same something she experienced when wanting to fight Salk. “More blood,” Blythe demanded, gripping his wrist, holding his finger inside her mouth.
“Tell me,” he panted, releasing his third hiss – this one louder, “about your dream.” He unzipped his leathers with his free hand, dropping the weight of his cock right in front of her face, his body becoming inky for a few slow seconds. She squeezed his maleness, enjoying the velvety softness mixed with those alien cords. When she stayed quiet, he tore his bleeding finger away, placing his damp crown against her bloody lips. “A crimson kiss for my dick?”
She opened her mouth and he plunged until he hit the back of her throat. “You have no idea what it’s like to have someone who looks like you, staring up from sucking my cock. It’s fucking amazing.”
Drawing him deep, she tasted his saltiness, which encouraged her to crave his blood even more. He inhaled in that familiar way, scenting her need, as Blythe’s thighs grew slick with her arousal.
“Ah.” His smile was radiant, breathing her in, enjoying her mouth. “Be careful what you wish for.” Fangs draped his bottom lip. “I’ll hold you to it, moja láska.” Pumping those narrow hips her way, he rode out her mouth, and she couldn’t get enough of him. “I know what you need.” He smeared another drop of blood on her upper lip, stirring her escalating hunger. “Bite down and you’ll get what you want, hungry vampiress.” Sliding his sex across her tongue, he groaned with the delicious friction. Pressing her hands flat against his lower stomach, she felt his muscles ripple and then bulge under his gear, ignoring the alien blades to enjoy the feel of him. “Bite me. I dare you.”
So she did, right on his wide head. Semen shot out right along with his blood, filling her deeply and she didn’t waste a drop.
“Ah!” Tendons strained in his neck, his chin rising to the ceiling. “Fire. Your flames burn, angel, all over me,” he said between pants, emptying the last of his release. “You’re the answer… to everything my body… yearns for.” For a moment, he stared down at her. For someone who had just climaxed, he appeared uncomfortable…torn. Vulnerable. “You’re my glue, Blythe.”
Abruptly, he pulled away, gliding to the bathroom. She heard the cabinet door open and then the water kick on. “Hey!” she snarled. Sixten was back with a dampened towel, cleaning her face before she took her next breath. “What gives? You’ve never left me hanging before, Six. It would take two seconds for me to lift off, so give up those seconds!” To her dismay, he adjusted her clothing impeccably, though his face appeared pained, and then brought her off the bed.
“You’re right,” he agreed softly. “I’ve never left you hanging, as you put it. However, this particular day, your orgasm doesn’t belong to me.” When she opened her mouth to ask what he was talking about, he added, “Or to you. There’s a creature that has waited centuries for it.”
“Bullshit!”
Sixten inhaled sharply, his fangs popping audibly. “Today, you’ll have plenty of time to talk through all your concerns with Rock. I’ve pleaded my case, Blythe.” Briefly, he closed his eyes, and when they reopened, they were bleak, weary. “Please, please, come to the right decision while I’m working.”
“I don’t appreciate being manipulated.”
“And I don’t enjoy manipulating you, even if it’s for your own good, saving your life,” he retorted acidly.
When she reached to pat her freshly nervous stomach, she noticed Kash standing in the threshold. Blythe’s mouth dropped open. Had he stayed at their home for the night? How much had he just seen?
“Blythe,” Kash whispered a greeting, and then cleared his throat. Walking across the floor, he lifted her right hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. “Rock isn’t the only one who needs to talk to you. I’d like to discuss something with you. Privately.”
“Okay?” It came out of her mouth as a question, because it was. She turned to Sixten, but he was ignoring them, sliding long blades in his boots.
“When you get home, then?” Lowering her wrist, he brushed his thumb across its pulse point before letting go.
“Sure, Kash, but is everything okay?” She remembered Sixten going after him last night after Rock’s encouragement.
“It is now.” Then he said to Sixten, “Sorry, Six, they’re waiting for us.”
“I know. I’ll
meet you there.” Then Sixten stood in front of her, pushing a new cell phone in her palm. “This is covert, untraceable, only used by the Vojaks. Keep it with you always. I’m a mist away from you, okay?”
In a blur, a true predator’s speed, Sixten pierced her throat. As Blythe’s body dissolved with his, she wondered how she was going to deal with a determined werewolf.
Chapter Five
After misting to Sanibel Island, Sixten released his bite. Licking away any traces of blood as he sealed Blythe’s puncture marks with his tongue. A shudder racked through him, his desire to keep drinking – to possess, though he had fed from her last night. “Six? Do you need to feed again?”
“I’ll be fine for a while.” Fingertips minus the claws, dug into her sides, a faint line marring his forehead. “Okay, moja láska?”
“Well, will you call me if you need to feed? The whole process still scares the hell out of me, but ...”
“What?”
“This sounds like a double standard, but would you mind feeding from men only if I’m not around?"
“I wouldn’t mind that at all, Blythe.”
“Thanks.” She threaded an uncertain hand through her hair.
“Not a problem, especially considering I don’t want to touch another woman.” He pulled her hands away. “Your hair is perfect, angel.”
She wasn’t thinking about her appearance, but she had forgotten her purse. Without anywhere else to stash it, Blythe put the phone he’d given her inside her bra. “Where exactly are we?” They stood inside a small, quiet stairwell, the walls painted a dove grey.
“Inside the restaurant portion of The Blue Pelican, remember the bed and breakfast?” Sixten said, sliding his hands down her arms, cupping her elbows in his palms.
“Oh, I’ve been here a time or two. Snotty people, but the food was always delicious.” At the thought of food, an angry rumble left her stomach.
“Usually, Dru’s the only vampire who’s allowed to mist in here."
“So Rock, uh, handled things for you to bring me.”
With a tight smile, he shrugged. “We have entered major, werewolf territory. My power trail would’ve disturbed many here if he hadn’t forewarned them of my arrival. Though the Pack has several Habaline halflings living among them. They’re all half werewolf. I’m half vampire.”
“Seriously?” She groaned. “My biological father was a vampire, Six. Sure, I don’t have your power trail, but what makes you think they’ll be comfortable with me here?”
“You’re part werewolf, I’m not. Smelling one another’s bloodline is instinctual for all werewolves. They will distinguish your scent above most others, since you descend from their Beta’s line. By now, the Pack knows you are Rock’s mate. His Pack ranking nears Alpha status. No one will touch you here without risk of death or I wouldn’t leave you in the first place.”
“Okay.” That did not mean she liked it. Swallowing hard, Blythe glanced at her Druid markings, remembering how Jayce Jordan paid her a visit at INKS while Ryan tattooed her. The Alpha’s power was as freaky as Sixten’s but that was where the similarities ended. Werewolves were different, incomparable creatures to vampires. What would it be like mating with one? With that thought in mind, perspiration beaded across her upper lip, and she wiped it away with a shaky hand. “Six, I’m nervous.”
“You’ll be fine.” Wrapping his arms around her, Sixten squeezed Blythe against him. “I’m so proud of you.” His hands came up, his thumbs pushing underneath her chin. “Look at me.” He waited for her to meet his eyes. “Everything that we’ve been through makes us stronger,” Sixten explained with such intensity, she didn’t doubt a word. “You make me stronger, Blythe, and I will do that for you. Always.”
“You already do, Six.” She blinked away a tear, refusing to let it fall.
“Then what’s there to be nervous about?” He moved one hand, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip.
“This is uncomfortable…strange.”
“Okay,” he said with a nod. “You were raised by humans. Mortals seem to feel that way when faced with the potential of more. However, there are always uncomfortable situations in the human world, right? And technically, my beautiful wife, you pointed out that you are more immortal than anything.” Lips touched her ear, whispering. “So what’s really uncomfortable or strange anymore? Another step, angel, take another step with me, okay?”
“Yes. I’m going to try.”
When Blythe looked around Sixten’s shoulder, she stiffened. A mortal would have cleared his throat, tactfully announcing his presence, eyeing the situation with marked apprehension.
Not Rock Kiard.
Nothing marked him as apprehensive.
Nor did he show any remorse for his blatant eavesdropping.
“Blythe.” A one-word greeting that meant so much more now. “Sixten,” Rock greeted him without taking his eyes away from Blythe.
“Rock,” Six returned the greeting though he kept his eyes on Blythe. Both waited to see what she was going to do next. Therefore, she kept her big girl panties on, the damp ones since Sixten left her wet and needy. She pressed her face into his shoulder and he caressed the small of her back. “Next step,” he encouraged. Pulling away, she looked up and Sixten brushed his lips against hers. The pressure eased swiftly as he misted away. “See you at home, moja láska.”
Blythe gaped when he disappeared. “He didn’t say when he was coming back.”
“We’ve already discussed it.”
“No one discussed it with me.” She planted her hands on her hips, her brows meeting in the middle.
“It’s a safety issue.” A relaxed smile flitted across his lips, his eyes glowing. “In this particular corridor, I can’t throw up miasma for privacy. We be-spelled this area to allow Sixten temporary access,” was his explanation as he brought his palm up, not to take her hand but to motion toward a cement-colored door. “Follow me. Since you haven’t been around our kind much, let me clarify that human or even vampire courtesies are nothing like werewolf courtesies. Considering what you are to me.” He looked deep into her eyes with an unwavering stare, a possessive one. Periwinkle blue circled arctic frost pupils. Those incredible peepers lined by sooty lashes so long, any woman would be jealous. Deep within, shadows shifted back and forth behind those bewitching irises. “Whenever we're in public, I will always walk out ahead of you. Not because I devalue you, just the opposite, I step into any new environs as your personal shield.”
“All right.” After he fought for her in that orange grove, placed his life on the line, how could she question that he wanted anything but the best for her. It didn’t mean she felt comfortable with Rock sharing her marriage bed.
His bronzed hand opened the door and luscious scents drifted: grilled seafood, fresh bread, sizzling onions glazed in reduced, balsamic syrup. Yum. Her stomach howled again. She rubbed it, heat reaching her face. Rock glanced over his shoulder, a smile kicking his lips. “Your vampire forgot to feed you?”
“No.” She adjusted her open-stitch, crochet pullover, its ebony contrasted with the pale, coral tank underneath. Though with her above-knee, black skirt and naturally blue-black hair, she was dressed far too dark for an island, lunch date. “I ate grapefruit for breakfast.” Additionally, a few drops of blood Sixten had released on her tongue.
“Only grapefruit?” He shook his head and entered the back of the restaurant, by the restrooms.
“Yeah, only grapefruit.” Resisting everything Sixten had tried to feed her for breakfast, Blythe had chosen non-filling grapefruit. When she became nervous, she usually puked and wanted to take it easy. Six hadn’t been happy about it, neither was her stomach. By the smells tickling her nose, she wouldn’t be able to resist eating lunch.
She followed behind Rock. Her head barely reached his wide shoulders, although Blythe wore brand new Gucci, platform boots. The shearling trim-talls were a soft grey, and she adored them. Another expensive gift Sixten unveiled this morning, and she couldn’t
refuse them if someone held a gun to her head…or a fang to her throat. “I never considered how tall you are.” She’d known Rock for years, yet Sixten had been her world, the center of her existence. “What are you, six-eight?” He was a couple inches taller than Sixten. Werewolves were somewhat larger, bulkier, where Vampires boasted leaner sinew. However, size meant nothing when comparing the two. She shook her head no. There wasn’t any way she could compare the species, and she was a mixture of both. A mutt if there ever was one.
“Somewhere around there.”
When they entered the main dining area, a static sensation racked her. Much the way a mild, electrical shock would, yet it jumped through her entire body. She curled her arms around her waist when a deep tingle traveled up her spine, she couldn’t stop her shiver, which caught Rock’s immediate attention. Then the flashing started in her left eye. A memory trickled in…a restaurant far from Italy, but nowhere near America. “Eat, Blythe, we have a ways to travel and your kind cannot survive entirely on blood.” A bite of steak met her mouth. “Swallow, I want to watch you swallow.”
After requesting their table, he placed his large palm on her back, not low, but more toward the middle. In the next second, heat left his body. Not the heat from when Sixten cuddled next to her, but more like the blast that she would receive from flipping the car heater on high to fight a chilly night. At that, the flashing stopped, leaving behind her puzzling fragment of memory.
“Better?”
