by Celia Kyle
Her anxiety, her fear and worry, tainted the air and Wyatt’s lion was quick to react. He rolled to his feet in one fluid move and took two strides closer. He could be at her side in another two and in plenty of time to stop whatever threat Alex may pose. Whether he kept her or not, she was still his mate.
“Millie, it’s obvious you’re fine without a cub in your arms.”
His mate shook her head, and he noticed the trembles and peppering of sweat had returned. Her skin shifted and bulged as if something inside were trying to push its way out. It wasn’t the normal teasings of an inner-animal. It was something different, something more.
“No, I’m not. For some reason, I didn’t fry this guy’s brain, but you’re about to find out how not-fine I am, Alex.” Millie took a step back, and Wyatt followed her. “It’s pushing hard, Alex. I need to get away from all of these men.”
He didn’t know what “it” was, but he agreed with her. She needed to get away from any male that wasn’t him.
“Leave, Alex.”
Except Alex took another step forward. When Millie moved to ease farther back, a bone-shattering tremble overtook her. Her balance wavered, and she stumbled, body falling to the side with a low cry.
The air shivered around him, vibrating with something, but he couldn’t be bothered with anything but Millie. Wyatt bolted forward, ignoring Alex’s order to stop and her cry to run. He wasn’t about to let her collapse on the ground. He might be a mate who wasn’t worth a damn, but he refused to let her get hurt under his watch.
The soft shudders turned into a razor sharp breeze when he was two feet from her. He ignored the annoying pain once again. It was obviously caused by his mate, but he couldn’t have cared less. If every touch of skin on skin resulted in a brief ache, he’d happily live out the rest of his years with the hurts.
The moment she was in reach, he grabbed her, yanking her close and then swinging her into his arms. He cradled her against him, tucking her into the safe shelter of his hold. In that instant, the pain blossomed to low heat once again while the rushing breeze drifted into nothing.
Alex’s shocked gaze met his, the Prime’s mouth hanging wide.
His mate’s next words had him wondering what he’d gotten himself into. “I didn’t kill you.”
“Uh,” he raised his eyebrows and looked to his Prime before returning his attention to his mate. “Good?”
A ghostlike hint of darkness drifted across her eyes and then vanished as quickly as it’d appeared. “Maybe.”
Chapter Three
"Taking a walk in the forest should be soothing. After all, it's likely you're about to hunt something and rip it to shreds with your fangs." — Maya O'Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and a woman who wished ice cream also lived in the woods.
Millie hadn’t killed him. Well, that part of her hadn’t killed him. In fact, after the first caress of power against skin, it’d backed down and… welcomed him. Even weirder, when it’d tried to go after Alex, the man’s presence halted the attack.
Double weird. She couldn’t figure out if it was a good thing or bad. One certainty: it scared the hell out of her.
She followed him, keeping distance between them while still moving in his wake. They traveled through the forest, taking the long way to the road that led to the pride house. The last thing she wanted to do was injure anyone in the pride. Since the male seemed safe from her rogue abilities, he’d offered to take her home. Alex had agreed with the plan, and after exchanging names, they began their trek.
Millie’s near dormant panther perked up as they followed him. She needed to stop referring to the male as “him.” He had a name. Wyatt Dane.
He should have been named “Gorgeous.” He was tall, taller than Alex, but leaner. That didn’t mean he didn’t hold a dominance that nearly brought her to her knees, though. No, power lurked within him, barely controlled and heavily restrained. It radiated from his skin and filled the air around him. Even her panther responded to his strength. The moment they touched, it reacted. It urged her to get closer, to wrap around the male and beg him to sink into her. Claim her.
Claim?
Millie stumbled over a root, and she held out her hands, ready to catch her weight. Except she didn’t. Wyatt was there, strong arms wrapped around her, holding her above the ground.
The dark part of her stirred at the touch, but seemed to recognize the male and it quickly settled. Her cat, however, did not. It rolled to its feet in a rapid, excited rush and chuffed in greeting. The animal that normally skulked in the back of her mind and hid from every confrontation wanted to pounce, bite, and mate.
Oh, God, that’s what it was. That was the delicious scent that beckoned her, the glorious aroma that had her body heating and aching for… something.
This man with his heavily muscled body, short hair and deep blue eyes belonged to her. He was her mate, her one, and the only male she could never, ever have. Her pussy didn’t care, though. No, it warmed and clenched in anticipation. She felt herself grow slick with desire and Wyatt’s nostrils flared as he inhaled deep. His chest expanded and then contracted for the barest of moments before filling once again.
A hardness against her hip made her realize he was affected as well. He recognized her, his body reacting to her closeness.
“Th-thank you,” she whispered.
Wyatt’s eyes flared gold and then settled back into a navy blue. “You’re welcome.”
He eased her to her feet and she took a giant step back. Touching him was a not good, very bad thing. It made her think of things she couldn’t have, no matter how much she craved him.
“You okay?” Concern laced his tone, but need filled his expression.
“Fine.” She nodded, even though she was anything but.
“My SUV should be another fifty yards or so. Are you going to be okay with that?”
Anger snapped in her veins. With her nerves raw from her trip down memory lane that morning and the stress of being around so many people, she immediately fell on her insecurities. The rubbing together of her thighs and the sheen of sweat coating her skin reminded her of the state of her body. Reminded her that she carried more than a few extra pounds.
It hadn’t been an issue in captivity; it was hard to be concerned about body size when she spent most of her time starving. Being in the real world introduced her to any food she could imagine… and the pounds that came with it. Now she was no longer hungry, but she was also what the general public considered overweight. Eight months of freedom and already her views were skewed by the media’s idea of perfection.
“Why wouldn’t I? Because I’m fat?”
In a blink, he moved from five feet away to inches from her. “Fat? Never. You’re gorgeous.” He ran a finger along her cheek, and she shuddered. “I ask because I don’t know what happened back there, and I’m worried about you.”
“Oh.” She felt tiny, small.
“Yeah, oh.”
“Then yes, I’m fine,” she whispered.
“Good.” Instead of moving away, he slid his palm over her shoulder, along her bare arm, and then twined their fingers together. Before she could object, he had her walking beside him. And it felt… right. Even if she knew it was wrong.
Then again, she hadn’t killed him, had she?
With each step toward their destination, her need for him grew. It was as if because they’d found their mate, the parts of her were willing to work together. The anger and hate she held remained vigilant in the back of her mind, while her cat snarled and paced. But regardless of their actions, their desires were exactly the same: make Wyatt Dane theirs.
Too bad for them, it wasn’t going to happen. Ever.
Before long, they hit the small dirt road and found Wyatt’s SUV waiting as promised. Alex’s scent lingered, and the dark cloud surged, ready to defend them against another male. It coursed through her body, coating her skin and wrapping around her with an invisible barrier. It was prepared to strike, to protect.
<
br /> Except… Except Wyatt rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand and with a low, murmured “easy” he had her power drifting away with a contented sigh. One touch and it was gone as if it’d never existed.
Weird.
When they reached the car, Wyatt was quick to release her hand and snare the door, pulling it wide for her. She stretched for the handle along the frame, but two large hands gripped her waist and lifted her, placing her on the seat. He didn’t grunt, didn’t groan or huff. Nope, it was an easy lift as if she weighed no more than a feather.
All of her liked that. The human, power, and cat all loved that she wasn’t a burden or strain for him.
It meant they had a strong, powerful male.
Even if she could never have him. She had to remind herself of that. No one deserved a female who’d just as soon kill you as kiss you.
The passenger door swung shut with a low thump, and then Wyatt strode around the front of the SUV and climbed behind the wheel. The engine roared to life and then settled into a deep, rumbling purr that reminded her of a satisfied cat.
Would he purr for her like that?
No, he wouldn’t, because he wouldn’t get the chance.
“You’re still staying at Gina’s, right? With the Mastin sisters?”
Millie cleared her throat. “Right.”
“Okay, then.”
They didn’t say anything else for the rest of the ride. Not a word as they wove through the trees, following the two lane road until they hit the more populated areas of Ridgeville. They twisted and turned their way to Gina’s house. They passed other small houses, easing by even some of the larger near-mansions, and then they finally stopped outside her temporary home.
Wyatt cut the engine and silence reigned inside the vehicle. The low chirp of birds and the rumble of random cars passing came to them, but still they remained quiet. Seconds ticked past, more and more of Wyatt’s scent filling the small space, and Millie’s panther was going crazy. It wanted him. Period. It didn’t care about that other part of them, the dangerous, deadly portion that threatened to steal control. The cat purred and whined, cajoling her to close the distance between them and rush into his arms. It’d take one kiss and then she’d be lost.
The thought clear in her mind, she snatched the door handle and yanked. She shoved it wide and hopped to the ground, intent on hiding in the house.
“Millie!”
She ignored the echoing thud of the SUV door closing, ignored the rapid thump of booted feet on concrete as he chased her. She was running like a coward, but she figured she was saving his life by remaining alone. She hadn’t hurt him today, and maybe wouldn’t tomorrow, but someday she’d lose control. That couldn’t happen.
Millie dug in her pocket, searching for her keys. She tugged and fought the material of her shorts. Maya had assured her they were sexy and looked awesome on her ass. That also meant they were tight, and it was hell getting anything out.
“Damn it.” She grumbled and yanked, tearing the keys free with a giant pull.
Normally one of the Mastin sisters would have unlocked the door for her, but they were probably hiding in their room. Men still scared the ever living hell out of them. Then again, men still scared the ever living hell out of her, too. Except for one…
Wyatt’s warm hand engulfed hers, stopping her from pushing the key home and opening the door. “Don’t you think we have a thing or two to discuss?”
Millie shuddered and swallowed the whimper that gathered in her throat. He wrapped around her like a delicious blanket, and she forced herself to remain still when all she wanted to do was snuggle into his arms. Her banked arousal flared to life, burning her from inside out. She ached for him, and her body yearned for his touch.
The way his breath hitched, she assumed he’d caught the scent of her arousal.
Damn it, damn it, damn it.
“I,” she licked her lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His hold shifted, that hand sliding up her arm, along her exposed skin until he got to her shoulder. He used a gentle grip as he urged her to turn around. He was tender as he eased her to face him. The action was more of a question than a rough order, so she allowed herself to be moved.
“You know that’s a lie.” His voice was a low, gentle baritone.
Millie shook her head. “I can’t…” Tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t, but how she wished she could. Looking at Wyatt, staring into his deep blue eyes and seeing a pain so near her own, she really, really wished she could. “I just can’t.”
“Okay.” He nodded. “I’ll do the talking then, okay?” At her answering nod, he continued. “You’re my mate and I’m yours, yes?”
“Yes,” she whispered. The panther’s joy filled her, the emotion tinged with something akin to happiness that came from the ball of her power. That alone, that change in its behavior, scared her.
“I take it you don’t want to be my mate?”
Fear, hot and fast bolted along her spine. She wanted to say yes. Wanted to cry and tell him it couldn’t happen, but terror kept the words inside her. Tears burned her eyes, a hint of pain so familiar now, and she blinked them back.
“I…”
Wyatt rubbed her arms, palms sliding over her exposed skin and goose bumps rose in his wake. “Shh… It’s okay. Don’t worry.” His gaze focused on her, his eyes intent as he stared at her. “The truth is, I can’t be yours, either.”
Not won’t, can’t.
Sorrow tainted her relief at his words. They were denying each other. The cat wailed and whined while the hint of happiness her power held drifted away. It was back to being filled with anger and rage. Wetness slid over her cheek, and she realized she was crying. Tears left moist trails in their wake as they escaped her eyes.
“Aw, Millie.” Wyatt brushed away one tear and then another. “Don’t cry. We don’t want each other. It’s not right or wrong. It just is.”
A lump formed in her throat, and she tore her gaze from his to stare into the distance. “I don’t not want you. I just can’t.”
“So we’re in the same boat.” He wrapped his arms around her, tugging her forward, and she let him. “I can’t have you either and it’s killing me.” It was true. She sensed the certainty in his sadness tainted words. “But you’re better off without me.”
She stood in the circle of his arms, drawing in his scent, and laid her head against his chest. She memorized the steady beat of his heart. She’d never forget it, never lose the rhythmic thump. The cat yowled, reminding her they could keep it with them forever if she’d just claim him. They would be one until the day they died.
But there was a reason he denied her just as there was a reason she denied him. She didn’t know the details, but what did it matter? Knowing wouldn’t change the fact she was sending him on his way.
Still crying, she eased back and stepped out of the circle of his arms. She brushed new tears from her cheeks. “Goodbye, Wyatt. I’ll…” She coughed and swallowed, willing away the knot clogging her throat. “I’ll do my best to avoid you. It’ll hurt too much and…”
And she’d die every time she saw him.
Millie moved to face the door, but Wyatt snared her hand and kept her prisoner for another moment.
“Millie. What’s your full name? Who am I walking away from?”
Why did life have to be so fucking hard?
“Amelia. Amelia Beth Walker.”
“Bethy.” He eased her close once again, cupping her cheek with his free hand. He urged her to tilt her head back, and she realized she could deny him nothing. “Goodbye, Bethy.”
Millie opened her mouth to repeat the farewell, but the words froze in her throat because suddenly Wyatt was there. His lips ghosted across hers, teasing her with a barely-there caress. He repeated the move, brushing their mouths together in a gentle kiss. The third pass held more passion, more need that mirrored her own. He flicked her lips with his tongue, tempting her, and she succumbed to his sexual
lure.
She parted her lips for him, letting him delve into her mouth. His flavors exploded across her tongue. The warm sweetness paired with darkness had her knees going weak. She clutched his shirt, depending on him to keep her upright as she lost herself in his kiss. His tongue tangled with hers, stroked and teased her with sexual promise.
Millie returned every touch, drinking in his flavors while searching out more of his taste. Her nipples pebbled and hardened while her pussy throbbed and ached. Her clit twitched, silently begging for attention, and she moaned against Wyatt’s lips. He wrapped her in his arms, pulling her flush against him. Their bodies aligned from chest to knees. She felt each hard rise and gentle dip of his carved muscles, and she wondered what it’d be like to trace them with her tongue. Another jolt of need struck her with the thought.
The thick hardness of his cock was trapped between them, firm and long against her abdomen. Unable to stop herself, she rolled her hips, rubbing his length and drawing a groan from Wyatt. She repeated the caress, the move arousing both of them. Her pussy grew moist with her arousal, slicking and preparing to be filled by his dick.
She wanted him, ached for him, but… it wouldn’t happen. She couldn’t allow herself to become blind to the danger she posed.
Reluctantly, she pulled from the kiss, easing her mouth from his in slow increments. He growled at the first easing of pressure and moved to recapture the passion. But Millie wouldn’t let that happen. Kissing him, teasing them both, was a dangerous, dangerous game. She didn’t want to push her luck, didn’t want to tempt and tease her power with an open target.
Placing a hand on his chest, she held him steady as she moved back and pulled her lips from his. She huffed and puffed, her breathing coming in heavy pants as she fought for control. The cat was content with the taste of their mate while her power remained cautiously pleased. Except the next push that separated their bodies enraged them both. The cat and the dark cloud read her intent, and they objected. Loudly.
