Ajax moved silently, searching the night for any sounds or scents that didn't belong. His weapons were quiet beneath his skin, indicating there was no threat.
But they'd also been silent at the club just before all hell had broken loose. For the first time in five hundred years, his instincts had failed him. All he could figure was that he'd been worked over with some kind of Illusion, same as Viktor, which meant he couldn't trust his instincts anymore.
Ajax was less than a half mile from the cabin when he caught a scent that didn't belong in his woods. He eased silently into the shadows and waited, tasting the scent, testing it.
Rose petals?
What the hell were rose petals doing in his woods?
He sifted past the scent of rose, breaking apart the flavors until he found the scent it was masking.
A woman.
Blood rushed to his groin, but he didn't twitch a muscle. He just continued to examine her scent for tells. She smelled lush and rich, like a heavy forest in the spring after a torrential downpour...his cock hardened when he realized what he was picking up. Damn. She smelled strongly of vanilla. Vanilla was the scent of a woman prepared to accept her mate.
His Calydon nature wanted to charge straight through the woods and bury himself deep in that invitation—
He swore softly, forced himself to continue his scan, searching for other scents. She had to be a decoy. No woman would ever stumble randomly across his place. She was there for a reason, and he doubted it was to ask him to donate to save the whales.
He scanned his surroundings for tells of other people, of Viktor.
But he found no one else.
Just her.
He scowled, frustrated that Viktor wasn't there, waiting.
He analyzed the situation for a moment, then realized that Viktor must be using the woman as a plant, to distract Ajax. No doubt Viktor was staying out of range and out of sight until Ajax was consumed by her.
He immediately began to ease forward. He'd approach her, trigger the trap, then spring it right back on Viktor when he attacked.
Steeling himself against her temptation, Ajax assessed the woman again as he approached. He forced himself to move past the scent of her femaleness, to treat her with the detached scrutiny he gave to all battle situations. He noticed her scent was laced with the acrid odor of nervousness...no...fear...desperate fear. But it was steady and strong, as if guided by a sense of inner strength, courage, and resolution.
Curious now, he stalked her, circling around his cabin so he approached downwind. Though he planned to play with her a bit and let Viktor think he'd fallen for the bait, he needed to be thorough in his recon so he knew what he was getting into.
His blood was running hot, enticed by the curious mix of her scent and her heated femininity, and he had to focus hard to keep himself moving silently and swiftly, to continue to assess the forest for indicators that Viktor was closing in.
He caught his first sight of her when he was less than twenty yards from his cabin.
The moment he saw her, every muscle in his body went rigid.
She was leaning on the front rail of his porch, delicate fingers curled tightly around the wood, a scoop-neck black shirt revealing a long, elegant neck. Her hair was thick and dark, a tight mass curling down over her shoulders. She was lean, but her curves were all female. Small, round breasts, jeans that hugged her full hips, a thin strip of belly peeking out between the hem of her shirt and her belt, flirting with him. A delicate gold chain rested around her throat, and her lips were full.
On her feet were hiking boots. Sturdy and wet, exactly what she needed to haul ass through his woods. Tough, gorgeous, and absolutely desperate.
Any doubt he had about Viktor's involvement fled at the sight of those boots. Viktor knew Ajax had a thing for women who looked tough enough to handle his life.
She lifted her head suddenly, looking directly at him. Her eyes were silver, heavily lashed, and aching with a soul-deep anguish that made him stiffen.
She blinked, and the anguish was gone.
In its place was a searing invitation that made him grin.
Yeah, this was one trap he wasn't going to mind walking into.
He broke from the cover of the trees and headed straight for her.
Chapter Ten
The moment the Calydon warrior emerged from the woods, Madison realized she'd dangerously underestimated the man she'd come to kill.
Her heart pounded as Ajax strode toward her, his body heavily muscled, but with the silent grace of nature's most dangerous predator. His shoulders were wide beneath his black T-shirt, the muscles in his thighs flexing with each step. There were thick whiskers along his jaw, dark stubble that cast him into shadows in the moonlight. The swords branded on his forearms were lethal and terrifying, and she knew he could call them out in a heartbeat.
But it was the look on his face that made her clench the railing to keep from bolting as he neared her.
His eyes were cold, so utterly merciless, she knew he'd strike her down in an instant if he realized she was there to kill him. But the way he was looking at her—like she was a gourmet dessert he was about to tear into until there was nothing left but a pile of crumbs—made heat begin to pool in her belly, and she felt her breasts begin to tingle in anticipation.
She swallowed hard, double checked her placement on the railing to make sure she was where she needed to be to reach the grenade—
He reached the base of the stairs, set one hand on the railing, and vaulted up in one smooth leap.
Madison jumped back with a startled gasp. He grabbed her wrists, pinning her up against the wall of his cabin. His grip was firm, but he wasn't hurting her at all. She knew he could crush her with his pinkie, but he was being very careful with her.
That realization made some of her fear dissipate, replaced with guilt about her intentions.
For a long moment, they stared at each other. She'd been planning to kill him instantly, but she couldn’t take her attention off his face long enough to reach for the grenade. He was burning heat, deadly strength, and something else, something deeper, something so compelling that it seemed to reach inside her and squeeze her heart.
Was it the way his grip had gentled around her wrist to almost a caress as soon as he'd moved her? Was it the darkness in his eyes, a weight that seemed to resonate with the burden she carried on her own shoulders every minute of every day?
He wasn't a monster. She knew that immediately, though she wasn't sure why. Instinct told her that, a deep, gut instinct that told her she was safe with him.
Unless, of course, she tried to murder him. Even the nicest guy would defend against an attack on his life, and she was pretty sure nice wasn't one of the qualities he ran around staking claim to.
He frowned, searching her face, as if he, too, were seeing something he hadn't expected. "Why are you here?" His voice was low and deep, a rich, luxurious rumble that seemed to spread through her like a fire, warming the parts of her that had been cold for so long.
Not just her body.
Her heart. Her soul. The parts of her that had been so desperate for something to cling to and found nothing but empty air…until him. Until this moment.
"I—" She couldn't think of an answer that made sense. She hadn't planned to have to talk to him. And killing him? How could she do that? "I got lost," she finally said, well aware of how completely inadequate that answer was.
"Did you?" His eyes darkened. "How convenient."
She swallowed, aware of how close his body was to hers. Less than a breath, and his chest would be against hers. He was pure heat. Pure male. And undeniable strength. Would he be strong enough to handle what she was? She almost felt like he was, like he was the one who could give her the strength to breathe freely again. "Convenient for who?" she whispered.
"For both of us." His voice was hard, edged with danger, but there was something else in it. Need. Desire. Desperation that seemed to scream for help. Loss.
Her heart turned over for him, for whatever pain he was carrying.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and then returned to her eyes. "You're here to seduce me."
She stiffened, her heart starting to pound. That was exactly why she'd come here. To distract him with her body so she could kill him. But now that she'd met him? She felt like she was free-falling into an abyss she'd never get out of.
An abyss that was him. His strength. His potency. His darkness.
And his gentleness, because his fingers still hadn't tightened around her wrist, not even a little.
She knew suddenly that he was going to accept her invitation and kiss her. Not just kiss her. Consume her.
He waited for a split second, and she knew he was giving her the chance to stop him, to say no.
The realization surprised her, because she hadn't thought Calydons were the type to wait for a yes from a woman, but he clearly was. At the same time, it didn't surprise her at all, not from him.
She already knew he wasn't the beast that Calydons were made out to be.
His eyebrows went up, and she realized she'd forgotten to respond to his declaration that she'd come to seduce him.
This was what she'd come for. To seduce him so she could kill him. All she had to do was say yes.
But she didn't want to kill him. Not him. Not anyone. Not ever. She couldn’t do this. She couldn't destroy him. Tears filled her eyes, tears she couldn't stop, tears that seemed to tear right from the depths of her soul, ripping her heart raw and open.
His face softened. Gone was the brutal warrior, the hard jaw, the cold eyes, exposing something beneath that was kind, honorable, and beautiful. He stroked one thumb across her cheek, across the tear that had slipped free. "Why are you here?" he asked again. This time, his voice was softer. Gentle. Soothing.
She swallowed. Ashley. She had to think of Ashley. "To seduce you," she whispered, words that sounded terrible, but somehow resonated with honesty, because with him so close to her, it was also the truth. A part of her burned for him to touch her, to bring her to life, to somehow heal the gaping wounds in her soul that had haunted her for so long.
"A seduction?" His eyes narrowed, and skepticism flickered through them, as if he knew she wasn't telling the truth. He cocked his brow, as if in challenge. "Then I shall give you what you want."
Her heart leapt, and she knew he was going to kiss her. Not just kiss her. Stake his claim on her very soul.
And she wasn't going to stop him.
With a low growl, he braced his hands on either side of her, then lowered his head and kissed her. As she'd expected, it wasn't simply a kiss. It was a heated inferno of desire, need, and control. His mouth was hot and wet, his tongue thrusting with a finesse that made her breath catch.
He didn't touch her with his hands. Or his body.
It was simply a kiss, but it melted every defense she'd ever had. It wasn't just a kiss. It was consumption, a thorough taking of exactly what he wanted. It was a kiss designed to carve a path right through her defenses straight to her soul.
And everything inside her screamed for him to do it.
She opened for him instinctively, melting into the power and temptation of his kiss. He wasn't simply a man, he was a warrior. Her body knew it, and she wanted him to bury himself inside her, to stake his claim.
Not so that she would belong to him, but so that he would belong to her.
He was everything she'd expected him to be, and so much more.
His hand slid to her hip, and she shuddered, her skin tingling beneath his touch. For a moment, she forgot about why she was there, why she was kissing him, and simply leaned into his caress, her body aching for more.
She tugged at her trapped hands, needing to touch him, to feel his muscles beneath her fingers, but he tightened his grip, pinning both hands over her head with his left hand.
His move made her realize he was still in control. Kissing her, yes, but still the warrior, still making sure she couldn’t hurt him, still controlling the situation.
As if he knew the truth. As if he knew she'd come there to kill him.
Fear rippled through her at the thought of the swords on his forearms, so deadly. Then he hooked his finger over the neckline of her shirt and tugged it down. He pressed a kiss to her collarbone, his lips warm and sensual, coaxing responses from her body that she hadn't known she possessed.
She groaned and arched into him as his teeth grazed her skin. She needed more. Wanted more. Wanted everything he had—
He released a feral growl, and his hand went to the front of her jeans as he pressed his palm against her, through the thick denim. Heat throbbed between her legs, a raw, pulsing need that seemed to come alive within her. For an instant, all she could do was stare at him in restless anticipation, her breath rasping in her chest as she watched the muscles in his arms ripple. His eyes were dark with lust, his attention riveted on her face. Her body trembled with need for him, for what he would do to her—
He will consume you.
The memory of Pete's warning was like a shock to her brain, and she stiffened. Dammit! What was wrong with her? She needed to focus.
She reached behind her. Her fingers touched the cold metal of the grenade lodged in the wooden wall. Her hand closed around it and—
Ajax moved so fast she didn't have time to react. He knocked her hand, the grenade flew across the porch, and then she was down on the porch, on her back.
Ajax was on his knees straddling her, his face a cold mask. There was a crack and a flash of black light, then his sword was at her heart, his hand around her throat.
Madison grabbed his wrist, but his hand was like a steel clamp around her neck. He wasn't choking her, though. He wasn't even pressing hard. He was simply holding her immobile.
But his eyes were cold. They were eyes of a man who was ready to kill her.
Chapter Eleven
The moment Ajax saw the panic on her face, he hesitated, softening his fingers to a gentle caress where he'd encircled her throat only a split second before.
He should kill her. He knew he should. She'd just tried to kill him…but he couldn’t.
Her expression…she was vulnerable as she searched his face, waiting for him to decide her fate, because they both knew she couldn't stop him.
There were dark shadows beneath her eyes that had sources that went far beyond tonight. His whisker burn was on her face. There was a sprinkle of freckles across her chest. Freckles.
There was something about the freckles that made her seem so human, so vulnerable. A woman he needed to protect, not kill.
She looked like a woman who had just been thoroughly kissed, and it was his mark that was all over her. His. He could still feel her lips against his. He still burned to bury himself inside her, making her his in every way possible—
Jesus. What was he thinking? She'd just tried to distract him with her body long enough to kill him.
And it had almost worked, which was stunning.
He'd worked hard to make himself impervious to the temptations of lust and sex that were a part of all Calydons. And yet, all she'd done is look at him with those silver eyes, and he'd had to taste her. To kiss her. To claim her.
Swearing, he sat back on his heels, trying to put distance between them.
She was dangerous to him, dangerous enough that he really did need to do something about it, something effective like killing her.
But he wasn't going to. She was so delicate. Vulnerable. Alone. What was she doing out here by herself? It was dangerous—
He frowned as he noticed his mind again wandering from awareness and battle strategy back toward all the reasons why he wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her again.
That made no sense.
He was a fantastic warrior who had survived centuries because he was lethal in battle. So…what the hell?
He realized suddenly that this situation couldn’t be about her. His response
was too intense, especially given that she was only a human, with no special powers to break through his shields.
It wasn't her doing. It must have been orchestrated by Viktor. His blood brother must have found her and deposited her on his porch, somehow helping her shatter his defenses.
How had Viktor known he would respond like this to her? He didn't get distracted by women…and yet, he'd had no defense against her.
What was Viktor up to? And where was he now? In the woods, waiting for Ajax to be distracted enough that Viktor could close in and attack?
Ajax swore under his breath, and immediately turned his attention to the woods around them, searching for Viktor. He saw nothing but darkness, nothing but woods, nothing out of place.
She went still, watching him, her pulse still pounding beneath his hand.
Shit. She was still terrified. Ajax returned his gaze to her and rubbed his thumb across her collarbone to soothe her. He focused on her, but he kept his senses attuned to the night and the woods, checking for Viktor's approach.
But he could pick up nothing.
Which meant either Viktor hadn't set this up, or something had happened to keep him from taking advantage of what he had set up with this woman. Neither option was good. Shit. "Your name," he said softly. "Tell me your name."
"Madison Locke," she said quickly.
He stilled at the sound of her voice. It was soft and delicate, throaty, but with the higher pitch that was distinctly female. There was a slight quaver to her voice, but she lifted her chin as she spoke. And he knew right then, that he would have her. Someday. Somehow. It would happen. There was no other option.
Then he realized what he was thinking, and he narrowed his eyes. There wasn't a woman he'd met in the last five hundred years that he'd had to have, and he didn't trust his response for a second. Somehow, he was being manipulated. "Tell me what you did to me." His voice was rougher than he'd intended, and when she blanched, he felt a deep surge of regret.
Dammit. She might have tried to kill him, but he still felt an almost overwhelming need to protect her.
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