by Tessa Dawn
Kagen looked into the makeshift prison and shrugged his shoulders apologetically. He was smart enough not to pull a tiger by its tail, and followed Nathaniel to the cabin.
Marquis approached the barrier then, and Jocelyn slowly stepped back until she bumped into the other side. He was uncharacteristically calm. Too calm, in fact. Much too reserved.
"Every time you place yourself in danger, you jeopardize Nathaniel's life. Know this, little sister: If you risk my brother's life again, you will lose more than your vocal cords.
I will take over your actions and your thoughts until the blood moon has completely passed and Nathaniel is no longer at risk. You will be a walking puppet on my string, and no one will know the difference...not even Nathaniel. Is there anything unclear about what I am saying to you?"
Jocelyn swallowed and looked down. She didn't dare answer.
"You will not get another warning."
Like Nathaniel, Marquis simply turned his back and walked away.
Nachari sighed and approached the barrier. "I guess that leaves me, then, huh?" He flashed a soothing smile of understanding, breathtakingly handsome as always. "It's been a long night."
Jocelyn looked down, hating that her eyes were filling with tears, not wanting Nachari to see how badly Nathaniel and Marquis's reprimands had hurt her...just how lost and overwhelmed she was feeling. It was humiliating to be a grown woman treated like a child: even more humiliating to be a grown woman acting—and taking unnecessary risks with other people's lives—like a child.
Nathaniel had turned his back on her. She would never belong in this life.
It didn't matter who Nathaniel believed she was. She wasn't anyone's true destiny, and she would never be a true member of their family. She would always be some...lesser species...that simply served a vampire's purpose.
Nachari shook his head as if he knew everything she was feeling, and then he began to carefully take apart the barrier, one layer at a time. "When I was just a fledgling, about one-hundred and fifty years old, I made a decision that I would no longer feed...I would no longer take human blood to live. I thought I would have a deeper connection with nature—you know, with the animals—if I took their blood instead." He shrugged his shoulders, smiling.
"When Marquis found out, he absolutely forbade it. So, being stubborn as I am, I pretended to continue to feed from humans while refusing any blood at all. Well, my twin, Shelby..." He stumbled over the word, his voice growing hoarse. There was an uncomfortable pause while he struggled to collect himself before continuing. "Shelby knew what I was doing, and I was getting weaker by the day. So finally, he went to Marquis and told on me."
Jocelyn's eyes grew big. She could only imagine where this was going.
Nachari shook his head in disgust as another layer of the barrier came down. "You want to talk about being made into a puppet?" He laughed. "Marquis took control of my physical body, something I was too young and inexperienced to prevent back then. He sat me on the stoop of his back porch and began calling animals from the forest, one after another...all day long."
Nachari raised an eyebrow. "And we're not talking about nice, friendly, normal animals. I mean porcupines, skunks, rats, snakes, badgers, the kind of animals that bite you back.
He lined them up one after the other like an endless buffet, forced me to sink my teeth into them, and made me drink until I puked. Then, he refused to let me wipe my mouth, and brought on the next animal..."
Jocelyn was appalled.
Nachari shook his head as the barrier finally came down, and he reached out to take her hand. "To this day, I haul ass when I see a porcupine."
Jocelyn couldn't help but laugh a little.
Nachari smiled. "I'm not saying any of this to frighten you, but just to make a point: If Marquis didn't care, if he didn't already accept you as family, he wouldn't bother. The male is my brother—and I love him dearly—but Marquis is an...intense...individual. He's had a really hard life. Harder than the rest of us. And honestly, I think he grows weary of living after so many centuries alone. We are all he has, all he lives for. You can never take it personally."
Nachari paused then, appearing to consider his next words carefully. "And as for Nathaniel, you can only imagine what a difficult time this is for him. He has his own fears, and rightfully so, not the least of which is your safety."
They stepped up onto the front porch. "By the way, I wanted to thank you for Braden. He wouldn't be alive if it weren't for you." The sincerity was strong in his voice, his deep forest-green eyes growing soft with appreciation. He released her hand with a reassuring squeeze.
Jocelyn smiled. "Braden didn't deserve what was done to him in that shed." She grimaced at the memory. "It was so awful."
"I know," Nachari agreed.
The door opened, and Nathaniel stepped aside to allow Nachari entry, while blocking the way for Jocelyn. He had obviously been watching the entire time, knowing all along Nachari would release her. He closed the door behind him, shutting the two of them out on the porch.
Jocelyn averted her eyes. "Are you as mad at me as I think you are? Do you hate me now?" Despite her best efforts, the words came out choked up.
Nathaniel grunted. "I don't know whether to hug you or to take you over my knee, Jocelyn. I could kiss you...then kill you."
Jocelyn raised her eyebrows. "Don't even think about the knee thing. I've been humiliated enough for one day." Despite her best effort, there wasn't even a hint of humor in her voice.
Nathaniel managed a faint smile. "Oh, baby, I didn't mean to humiliate you. Maybe just scare some sense into you." He gently lifted her head by her chin. "I'll tell you what: How about no more suicide attempts; no more walking off with strangers; no more trying to fight vampires with silly, human weapons—silver bullets only work on werewolves, Jocelyn—and no more holding Nachari's hand. And we'll be just fine."
Jocelyn started to protest at the first three items on his list, wanting to remind him of her very good reasons for all three, but she was stopped short by the last request. She managed a faint smile. "You're kidding, right?"
Nathaniel looked at her, but he didn't smile.
"Nathaniel, you are kidding...right?"
"I don't see any humor in the way you look at my little brother, and I don't think you should be touching anyone but me. Besides, what is all this forest green, emerald green stuff? His eyes are green, Jocelyn. Just plain green. Rather boring in my opinion." His voice never wavered.
Jocelyn frowned, perplexed. "You're crazy." It was all she could think of to say.
Nathaniel reached down and grasped her by both sides of her waist, pulling her tightly against him. "Vampires are extremely territorial by nature, Jocelyn. We're predators first—instinctive animals—never forget that."
Jocelyn looked up at him, surprised, still trying to grasp whether or not he was completely serious.
"You might not like it," he said, "but you are mine." He growled then. "I thought I might have to carve out that Dark One's heart, put it on a rotisserie, and serve it up on a platter for you. You still eat food, right? At least until your conversion." He smiled.
Jocelyn rolled her eyes. "Oh, Nathaniel...you're pathetic."
He laughed and cupped her face in his hands, declined his head, and nuzzled her hair, allowing his fangs to elongate just enough to show her he meant business. He bit down on her neck—gentle enough to show her he cared, forceful enough to cause her some pain. It was a soft reprimand, a clear warning, and a gesture of affection...all in one.
His hands followed the contours of her body, clearly dominant in the familiar way he touched her, almost as if he really did believe he owned her. And why not? Jocelyn knew without a doubt that he did. And God help her, but at that moment, she wanted him to.
He ran his fingers down the long arc of her neck, across her slender shoulders, and slowly along her waist, possessively outlining the sides of her breasts. His thumbs lingered selfishly over the two hard peaks at the center, c
aressing her nipples in a slow, rhythmic circle, until they finally came to rest on her hips.
"This is all mine." His voice sounded husky. Sure of himself. "Your heart...your mind...your body. Mine to touch.
Mine to love. Mine to worship. All my territory. You belong to me. Do you understand?" He lifted her chin to force her gaze.
"I want to smell no other scent on you than my own."
Jocelyn inhaled sharply, somewhat surprised by his statements. Her body was on fire from his touch...and she realized that he meant every word. He was marking her, rubbing his scent on her, establishing his dominance over her.
And then he bit her.
And heaven help her, she almost went to her knees...wanting more.
Jocelyn had always been a strong woman: a fiercely independent, powerful personality in her own right. And she probably always would be, but she knew somewhere deep inside, this man could make her want things...do things...obey things she would mock other women for even thinking about. She wanted his complete possession.
Gazing up into his mesmerizing eyes, she blinked, trying to keep him in focus. He was positively sinful...brutally handsome...and absolutely primitive. And then he bent to claim her mouth fiercely with his own. The deep kiss was that of an expert—strong yet gentle, demanding yet coaxing, erotic yet loving—leaving her breathless and wanting in its wake.
She felt provoked and aroused. And more than a little hungry in places she hadn't thought of in a long, long time.
"It is time for me to bring you fully into my world, Jocelyn.
I don't think I can live through another night like tonight."
Jocelyn simply stared at him.
And then she blinked....
Like some nerdy, love-sick teenager who had somehow stumbled upon a date with the star quarterback.
Dignity was becoming a rare commodity around this man, and she wasn't sure she was going to get it back any time soon. But hell, when he looked at her like that, she lost all rational thought, gave up all logic and reason.
The truth was...she was ready to be his.
She was hungry to be brought into his world.
Chapter Twenty-two
Jocelyn woke up late Monday evening, realizing she had slept the day away and the sun had already set. She stretched her arms and looked around the room. She was back at Nathaniel's sprawling log retreat, an architectural wonder of modern convenience, rustic decor, and soft, earthy palettes. She had never seen the master bedroom before, and the room was a sight to behold.
The entrance to the bed chamber was a twelve-foot, double-arched doorway, encased in wide hand planks of oak with subtle, mystical designs snaking throughout the natural grains. The ceiling was high and came to a peak with several heavy beams running horizontally from one end to the other.
Like the rest of the house, the room was decorated in soft earth tones of rust, amber, gold, and deep brown, giving it the appearance of an orchard of trees in the height of autumn. The furniture was made of natural wood and clearly hand carved with the same design found in the moldings that surrounded the floors, ceilings, and windows.
The lines were neat and clean, drawing the eye to the focus of the room—a large inset fireplace flanked by floor-to-ceiling windows, which displayed a breathtaking view of the forest valley as far as the eye could see.
Jocelyn pulled back the Egyptian cotton sheets and took a closer look at the four poster bed she was lying in. It was made of knotted pine and looked as if it weighed a ton. It had two thick, rounded columns at the base and an intricately carved headboard rising at least five feet from the top of the mattress at the head. The jutting crown was more like a work of art than a bed frame; it was expertly engraved with detailed carvings of forest predators: a grizzly bear, a mountain lion, and a pair of wolves, all surrounded by beautiful aspens and pines as if the animals had been captured in their natural habitat.
Jocelyn noticed a beige robe lying at the end of the bed and leisurely put it on. As she slid her left arm into the soft material, it occurred to her that the cast Kagen had made for her was gone, and her wounds were perfectly healed.
She brought her arm up to her face to study it more carefully, searching for scars or markings, any evidence at all that the terrible injuries had once been there: There were none. As she headed in the direction of the bathroom, a shadow moving in the corner caught her eye and she jumped, momentarily startled.
Nathaniel was sitting languidly in a comfortable-looking chair, his legs crossed in front of him, propped up on a matching ottoman. And he was staring directly at her...a dark look of hunger in his eyes.
He blended into the background like a jungle cat watching its prey: perfectly motionless...silent. His eyes were focused and alert, and a small smile curved around the corners of his mouth when he saw her take notice.
"Good evening, beautiful." His voice positively purred.
Jocelyn inhaled sharply as a bolt of electricity shot up her spine, causing her to shiver. That voice—that raspy, sultry, mesmerizing voice—she would never get used to the sound of it.
"Good evening," she called in return. "How long have you been sitting there?"
He shifted restlessly in the chair. "Not long." A low hiss escaped his mouth as he slowly exhaled. "You are so incredibly beautiful when you sleep."
Jocelyn blushed and turned away. "Did I sleep all day?"
He smiled. "We both did."
Jocelyn looked at the bed. She didn't remember getting into it, and she certainly didn't remember Nathaniel lying beside her. That would not be something a woman would easily forget. She clutched her robe. "How is it that you're dressed and showered, and I'm not?"
The moment it left her lips, she regretted the question; it sounded like a come-on when she had only meant it as a casual observation.
Nathaniel smirked like he was reading her mind. "You took a shower late last night. I, on the other hand, just collapsed in exhaustion." His pupils widened with that strange shifting she was beginning to find so characteristic of a vampire.
She frowned. "I don't remember taking a shower."
Nathaniel leaned forward. "Kagen gave you some pretty strong medicine for the pain in your arm since I couldn't continue to block it in my sleep. There are probably many things you do not remember."
Jocelyn's eyes grew big, but she didn't dare ask.
Surely not...
Nathaniel laughed. "No, my love; I assure you...that you would remember."
All at once he stood up and started walking toward her—his movement the confident glide of a predator.
Reflexively, Jocelyn took a step back. It wasn't that she was afraid of him; well, at least no more than usual. It was just the way that he moved. It sent chills down her spine and flirted with her every fight or flight instinct. She was a human, after all, and he...was not. It would take some getting used to.
Nathaniel's eyes narrowed with decadent purpose, a predator inching his way gracefully toward his prey. "You back away from me?" His faint laugh vibrated through the room, heavy with masculine amusement, and for a moment, he appeared every bit as much a lion as a man.
Jocelyn clutched her robe, watching, as her fear and excitement grew with every step he took in her direction.
He appeared to relish the increasing beat of her heart, to enjoy the subtle look of panic she knew was in her eyes, and to savor the blatant, carnal reaction he no doubt could pick-up from her scent. The room felt suddenly hot...very hot...and her body felt...uncomfortable.
A deep, delicious growl rumbled in his throat as he finally closed the distance between them and reached down to take her hand in his. He slowly brought it to his lips, kissing the inside of her palm and then her wrist, before taking a finger gently into his wickedly perfect mouth.
"You are not still afraid of me, are you?" His voice was a slow drawl, positively dripping with sin.
Jocelyn shivered. She opened her mouth to answer, but no sound came out. Nathaniel responded immediately to the in
vitation: dipping his head to taste her lips, lightly sweeping a tongue inside the irresistible offering. He traced the curve of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.
"Mmm," he purred.
He cupped her face in his hands then. "Jocelyn Levi, do you have any idea how delicious you are?"
Jocelyn shook her head, blushing.
He stared into her eyes. "And your eyes are...amazing.
You truly do have the eyes of a tiger...other-worldly...the most stunning mixture of green and brown I have ever seen."
He kissed her temples and then each eyelid, one at a time.
"And the colors blend together in shadows...like maybe they're trying to hide something." He leaned over and whispered in her ear, "Secrets, perhaps? Are you keeping secrets from me, Jocelyn?"
He dropped his fingers to the front of her robe and gently brushed against her breasts, cupping the soft mounds in his hand. He took his time, exploring each breast languidly, first one and then the other, massaging with intimate authority.
"I would like to know your secrets, tiger-eyes. Will you share them with me?"
Jocelyn's head fell back, and she moaned softly.
He pushed the robe off of her shoulders and drew in a sharp breath as the gentle curves of her skin were exposed to his hungry gaze.
"Will you?" he repeated, his voice growing deep and demanding.
"Wh...what would you like to know?" Her voice came out husky and slow, like that of a temptress, surprising even to her own ears. She didn't know where the sound had come from, but Nathaniel's response was instantaneous...his thick erection rising in his jeans...pressing against her stomach.
Nathaniel noticed her noticing him, and he made no effort to conceal his arousal, grinding his hips in a slow circle, pressing firmly against her.
She was wearing a midnight blue silk nightgown with a low, dipped back and thin spaghetti straps, one of the many garments Nathaniel had purchased for her on her first day in his home, and he wasted no time at all, lowering the straps from her shoulders, pushing them aside with his thumbs. The nightgown fell to her waist, caught beneath the loosely tied robe, both her shoulders and breasts exposed.
