Kash holds up his hand to stop Lynch from coming closer. They share a look.
“Think he’s for real?” Lynch asks.
“It’s been done before,” Kash says.
“Been a while since we’ve seen it used,” Lynch says.
“Yeah, but there’s something off about his wolf too,” Kash says, and Lynch nods his head in agreement.
Kash looks back at Nick, studying. “Do you pick your victims randomly, or are they assigned?”
Nick doesn’t answer.
This time, Kash spins on his heel and waves at Lynch to continue before striding back to me. Lynch lands a punch that makes Nick howl.
“If he can’t tell you anything, why keep hurting him?” I ask.
“The alpha order he’s referring to has an alarm trigger,” Kash says way too calmly, considering the crack of ribs that follows Lynch’s next punch.
I wince and look up at the tall, dark, and unaffected alpha beside me. “What kind of alarm?” I ask over Nick’s wails.
“Who is your alpha?” Lynch demands between punches.
Nick moans, spitting out a tooth, then mutters some more.
“Who is your alpha?” Lynch roars again.
Kash leans in close to be heard over the noise. “If he has to deny himself so many times, the alpha senses it and can remotely enforce the–”
Nick’s wails are abruptly cut short, and I watch as he sags suddenly, his body dead weight. Lynch backs away, waiting for something. Nick’s eyes roll backward in his head. His face drains of color–except for the blood streaming from his nose and mouth. He convulses, the chains rattling with the movement of his body. Then, foam coats his mouth, and he falls still.
His still-open eyes are frozen, unseeing.
“Shit,” Lynch drawls. He turns back to Kash. “Guess he wasn’t lying.”
I look at Kash, eyes wide. “You were testing his story?” I demand. “Knowing what would happen?”
“I didn’t know for sure,” Kash says. “If I did, I wouldn’t have needed to test it.”
I stare back at him.
Lynch sighs then walks over and pounds on the door.
It opens, and the guard outside pokes his head in.
“Clean up on aisle seven,” Lynch says, jerking his thumb toward Nick.
The guard nods then steps back to let us all file out.
I follow Lynch into the hall, stunned at everything that just happened. Before we make it to the stairs, Lynch veers off to speak to another guard coming in from a back hall I hadn’t noticed earlier. The second guard is carrying a mop and bucket that contains what looks like a plastic tarp.
Werewolf janitor, I realize then shudder.
“Come on.” Kash tugs my arm and urges me back toward the stairs.
I trudge upward, my body moving on autopilot as I attempt to catalog and file everything that took place in that room just now.
Torture. Pain.
Answers.
Then death.
And somewhere in between, magic.
Kash’s hand on my arm is subtle; nothing more than a guiding force as he leads me back down the hall and out the front door. I’m not sure where we’re going as we exit the building and then take a hard right behind the garage to cut across the lawn. But I don’t ask either.
For now, no questions matter more than the ones burning a hole through my brain about Nick.
He died from . . . magic?
What the actual fuck? Is everything real then?
Warily, I eye the trees in the distance, imagining vampires or demons hiding there. Kash sticks close, which makes me slightly less terrified of another monster leaping at us.
We end up inside a large house at the back of the property. It’s dark when we enter, but Kash flips a switch, and I find myself standing in a large foyer. Moving in a slow circle, I stop when I see the back of the house is done in floor-to-ceiling glass, framed in beautifully crafted wood. It’s too dark to see anything outside, but a small part of me yearns to see it during the day. I rip my gaze away from the back wall and quickly catalogue the rest of the space. Bare wood floors gleam back at me. Scenic landscapes in matching wood frames line the walls.
Kash barely gives me time to take it all in before he’s leading me up a flight of stairs to a second level that’s even more breathtaking than the first. Artwork–some famous, some not, though just as beautiful–fill the walls. The scent of pine and oak take over my senses, and I want to stop long enough to appreciate the carving of the bannister, but it’s a little too much for my overworked sense of sanity right now.
We end up in a bedroom large enough to fit half my apartment.
By the time Kash finds the light switch, I’m shaking, and I have no idea why.
He turns back to me, frowning as he crosses the carpeted space between us. When he gets too close, I take a step back.
His eyes narrow in confusion. He stops where he is and watches me warily.
“I know that must’ve been hard for you,” he begins.
“Hard?” I snort. “Algebra is hard. A morning without coffee is hard. That was scarring as fuck.”
He scowls. “I told you that you wouldn’t like it. We needed answers.”
“You pushed him to the point of–” I break off, unwilling to say the words. It’s too real. “You knew what would happen to him, and you did it anyway.”
“If you want to help your friend, this was the only way.”
I run my hand through my tangled hair. “Fine, but you still could have warned me.”
He frowns. “I couldn’t have known his alpha had spelled him.”
I throw up my hands. “The fact that you just said the word ‘spelled’ with a straight face is my entire point. When were you going to tell me magic is real?”
“Um, magic is real?”
“Ugh.”
Kash brushes past me and pours a drink from the decanter on the dresser. He hands it over, the amber liquid sloshing up the side. “Drink,” he says.
I take it, glaring. “Who the hell keeps a decanter of whiskey in their bedroom?” I demand.
He shrugs. “Where else would you like me to keep it?”
I decide to answer him by knocking back the entire double-shot in one big gulp.
Kash’s eyes widen as I hand him back the empty glass.
He doesn’t even ask if I want a refill, just goes back and pours it.
“Are you all right, Pepper?” he asks, handing me the glass a second time.
“I’m freaking out, actually, in case you haven’t noticed.” Kash wisely says nothing as I continue to ramble. “Magic is real. What the hell? I’m that storybook heroine no one likes to read. The one who’s too stupid to figure things out then freaks out on the love interest at the first sign of trouble. If this were happening in a book, I’d be making fun of myself right now.”
Kash arches a brow, a smirk ghosting his lips. “Love interest, huh?”
“Why do you have cells here?” I ask, ignoring his words. “And where are we? I mean, I’ve seen enough episodes of Bitten to know we were in your pack house earlier, but who’s house is this?”
He sighs, crossing his hands behind his head before answering. It’s the most undone I’ve ever seen him and that gets my attention. “We have cells because, for werewolves, there are rules you must follow on top of all the human ones, and those who break the rules are punished. Though, I can’t remember the last time we had to use one.” He frowns as if trying to remember.
“And this house?” I ask. “Who does it belong to?”
“It’s mine, Pepper. All of it. The pack house, the garage, the cells. It’s all mine. Though, this particular house is my private residence. ”
“I see,” I say, my nerves jumping now. The whole house belongs to Kash? For the first time, I’m painfully aware that we’re completely alone. And standing less than six feet from a very cozy looking bed. “Is this where you bring all the girls after a night of routine torture and death?”
>
“No.” His voice is too raw, too heavy for me to smile at my own joke. “I’ve never brought anyone else here.”
“Seriously? Then why bring me?” I ask, but the moment the words are out, something changes in the air between us.
My mouth goes dry.
He drops his hands to his sides, but his expression remains just as strained. Maybe more. For the first time since I’ve known Kash, I recognize something in him I never, ever imagined I’d see: fear.
He clears his throat. “Because,” he says in a ragged voice. “I think it’s time I told you the truth.”
“What truth?” I ask, nerves fluttering in my stomach.
Kash’s eyes are warm now. And intense. “I’ve been fighting you for weeks, but I’m done resisting, Pepper. I told you we had more to talk about than your horrible choice of weaponry, and believe me, we’ll get to that too–but first, I think we need to have a talk about my mate.”
Well, shit.
I guess the guy chained up in the basement isn’t the only one getting tortured tonight.
“All right, just say it, and get it over with.”
“You said tonight that you were worried about what would happen when I meet my mate, but the truth is, I already know who my mate is.”
My stomach drops at his words, and I close my eyes to hide the pain hearing those words brings. Kash is silent, but I feel him move into my personal space, and I have to fight the urge to lean into him.
“You’ve known all along,” I say in a voice that doesn’t even sound like mine.
“Yes, Pepper.” His fingers brush across my lashes, and I force myself to open my eyes and hear the words. “I knew from the first moment I saw you. You’re mine.”
Chapter 12
My breath whooshes out of my lungs, and my knees feel shaky. I blink at Kash, positive I’ve heard him wrong. “What?” I squeak.
The glass slips from my hand, but Kash is there, leaning down and grabbing it just before it can hit the carpet.
He straightens, setting the whiskey aside before slowly turning back to me. “Wow. You’re right, you are really bad at being the heroine,” he says with a smirk. Waiting. Watching.
I try to think through the haze of my own shock.
“You are my mate, Romy,” he says again more firmly. “I felt it the moment you threw your shoe at me in that alley and I turned around to see you standing so full of fire and determination.”
If I thought watching a werewolf die at the hands of some crazy-ass alpha magic was impossible, then this is downright mythical.
Me. Romy Cartelli. Kash Montgomery’s mate.
I open my mouth, and what comes out is probably the first breaking point of my own sanity.
Cackling laughter bubbles out of my chest, and Kash frowns.
“I’m not joking,” he says, and there’s just enough hurt in his voice to call me back.
I force the crazy-lady cackle down again.
“And that’s what’s hilarious about it,” I tell him. “You can’t possibly think–I mean, I’m not even your species.”
“Not yet,” he says, and I almost fall over.
But my body gives me away, and I don’t miss the way my heart leaps at what he’s suggesting. “Wait. Are you saying . . . you would turn me?”
Kash shakes his head. “I just professed my feelings for you, and you’re more excited about the idea of being turned into a furry beast?”
“Of course not. I mean, it’s fifty-fifty at least.”
Kash laughs, and his softening expression cuts through some of the tension.
My heart pings with the realization of what he’s just admitted. “I know werewolves don’t really have a choice in who they’re meant to be with. Are you mad at being stuck with me?” I ask softly.
Butterflies dance inside me as Kash closes the distance between us. He reaches up and brushes his hand over my cheek, his thumb running over my lips as he stares intently down at me. Now, my breath catches for a different reason.
The butterflies turn warm, and my skin tingles where he touches me. And where I want him to touch me.
“I’ve been fighting it since the moment we met, Pepper. But it only gets stronger every day. When we’re apart, all I can think about is you. Your mouth. Your skin. Whether you’re safe. And when we’re together, it takes all my strength to keep my hands off your body-” He drops his hand to my chest and presses his palm against my heartbeat. With his other hand, he guides my palm to his own heart.
“Our heartbeats,” he whispers. “Do you feel it?”
I bite my lip, trying to get past the distraction brought on by our closeness.
Slowly, I become aware of the beating of our hearts, and my eyes widen.
“They’re . . . the same. The rhythm. It matches,” I say.
Kash nods. His eyes swim with warmth and an affection I’ve never seen before. Has it always been there? Underneath the stoic mask he always wears?
“Kash,” I breathe, but I don’t get any farther before his mouth silences mine.
I moan into his mouth, and Kash’s hands slide around my body, pulling me close as he deepens the kiss.
My hands slide up his broad chest and around his neck, burying themselves in his thick hair. He slides his palms to my ass and lifts me off my feet. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he walks us back until my shoulders hit the cool glass that makes up the back wall. He presses me there, trapped between the glass and his hard body until I’m lost in the sensations of his heat and the competing chill from the glass.
His tongue slides over mine, and I rock my hips into his, yearning for more.
More heat. More skin. More Kash.
His admission echoes in my mind: mate.
I’m his mate.
His hand roams my body, sliding under my shirt to cup my breast, leaving me panting.
My own hands reach for his zipper, and he shifts our position to offer me access.
The moment my hand closes around him, I realize he’s not the only one making a claim. I move my hand up and down along his hard length, and he hisses in pleasure. Touching him like this, watching him react, a sense of power washes over me.
“Fuck,” he grunts, ripping his mouth away from my own. He shivers as I trail kisses down his neck and continue to stroke him. “Are you sure, Pepper? You know what this means for me.” He says the words like it pains him, but he’s giving me this last chance to say no anyway.
It only makes me want him more.
“I’m sure, Kash.”
Kash growls, and before I know what’s happening, I’m being carried again. This time, Kash lets me go, and I fall onto the mattress. He stands over me with heavy-lidded eyes and steps out of his pants and boxers before ripping his shirt over his head.
The sight of his naked body blots out any trace of self-consciousness I might have had. He’s gorgeous. Every hard plane and rippled surface of toned flesh is deliciously sexy. I want to lick every inch of him and claim him for my own.
“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” he drawls, and my cheeks heat because naked Kash is something I’d very much like a picture of. Too bad he’s the sneaky one with the camera.
Before I can formulate a response that does him justice, he reaches for my boots.
“As sexy as these are, they’ve got to go.”
I squeak in surprise as they’re practically ripped off my legs, followed quickly by my pants. His mouth is on mine, capturing the sound I make before it can fully leave my lips.
Something switches inside of him, and the frenzied kiss slows, searing my lips and branding my soul. Kash’s eyes never leave mine as he slides my panties down my legs with torturously slow movements before tossing them onto the floor. He takes his time removing my jacket before pulling my shirt off, and my skin tingles in the wake of his fingertips.
He kisses my neck, biting and soothing as he reaches around and unclasps my bra with expert fingers. He pulls back, staring at my now bare breasts with a look of
hunger.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he growls low in his throat.
His eyes close, and he swallows roughly before grabbing my face between both of his enormous hands and kissing me again as he lowers himself over me.
His skin on mine is warm and rough, and I wrap my hands around him again, eager to feel more of him.
“There isn’t an inch on your body I haven’t dreamt of touching,” he murmurs at my ear. “And I intend to fulfill every one of those fantasies. Prepare yourself, Pepper.”
Then, he captures my mouth with his, and my hips rise to meet the length of him pressing into my center. He breaks the kiss long enough to reposition himself and then slides slowly into me, inch by glorious inch.
“How’s this?” he asks, a mixture of concern–which makes sense considering the sheer size of him–and teasing. His smirk reaches his eyes as he slides deeper and whispers, “Better than reading about it?”
“Oh,” I moan, not even trying to fight the wave of pleasure already building inside me. “Much better,” I tell him as he pushes all the way into me.
I gasp, clinging to him as he begins moving over me. My hands roam over his back and ribs and neck, trying to find some way to hold on against the undoing of my own sense of reality.
Kash is a single point of awareness above me, his eyes demanding my attention. His hands are extensions of the pleasures our bodies give each other now. When his fingers find and squeeze my nipple, my back arches and he slams into me even harder than before.
His expression becomes desperate. My own grip on reality slips.
All that’s left is Kash’s body joined with mine and the pressure that builds between us, demanding a release. A cliff. And I’m only seconds away from being tossed off the edge. My nails dig into Kash’s back as we move.
Pleasure rises like a tidal wave, blotting out everything else. In the moment of my own release, Kash’s name rips from my throat, and I’m launched into a freefall. Something clicks into place. Something I’ve been fighting all these weeks just as much as he has. Kash isn’t the only one claiming his chosen. From this moment on, Kash Montgomery is mine.
The Girl Who Cried Werewolf Page 12
