What a Wolf Desires (Lux Catena Series Book 1)

by Amy Pennza

  “I can smell it.”

  Oh, God. She let her eyelids flutter shut. Her breasts felt swollen, like they might burst from the cups of her bra.

  Cool air hit her skin, and she opened her eyes. Max had pulled the comforter down. He hooked a finger in the top of the sheet and dragged it in a slow glide between her breasts and all the way down her stomach, pulling it past her panties and running his knuckles over her most sensitive skin.

  Zips of fire shot from her sex to her breasts. A pulsing heat throbbed between her legs. His warm hand moved down her legs, and she almost cried out at the loss. She could still feel the path his finger had traced down the center of her body. The valley between her breasts burned as if he’d branded her. Moisture dampened her panties.

  He left the sheet at the bottom of the bed and then smoothed his hand up her leg in a slow caress. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to see you in my bed?” His eyes glittered. “Too long.”

  Lizette felt ensnared in his gaze as he stretched his body over hers. His weight pushed her into the mattress. He nudged a knee between her thighs. A faint alarm split the fog of desire clouding her brain. A thought buzzed in her head like a bee she couldn’t swat. They had things to talk about—important things. But her sex throbbed and a restless ache built between her thighs. It had been so long since she’d touched herself…

  “Do you know the effect you have on me?” he asked.

  She shook her head.

  He shifted his weight to his hip. Slowly, he undid his shirt, his lean fingers slipping the buttons through the holes one by one, revealing his broad, muscular chest. He lifted her hand and placed her palm over his heart. “Feel what you do to me.”

  The thundering rhythm of his heart pounded against her hand. She splayed her fingers across his pecs. Despite the muscle underneath, his skin was soft—like velvet over steel.

  He guided her hand to his waist…then lower still. He pressed her palm over his erection and closed his eyes.

  Lizette couldn’t tear her gaze away from his face. His brow furrowed as if he were in pain. The thick bulge between his legs strained against her hand.

  When he opened his eyes, his wolf looked down at her. “I want to be inside you.”

  More moisture flooded her sex. Was she really going to do this?

  The buzzing thought swooped back in. We can’t do this. There were half a dozen reasons why. She put both hands against his chest. “Max…”

  He tugged her bra strap off her shoulder and pulled the cup down, exposing her breast. The nipple stood up, begging for his attention. He seized it in his mouth, his fingers curled around the plump skin of her breast. The troublesome thought fled.

  Electricity shot through her nipple. Lizette moaned. “Max… Please…”

  “That’s it, bébé,” he said around her nipple, his breath hot on her wet skin. He nipped her with his teeth. “God, you’re sweet.”

  Her breath escaped her in a low moan. Pressure built between her legs.

  He skimmed his other hand along her collarbone and peeled the second cup down, freeing her breast. He swirled his tongue around her nipple one last time before moving his mouth to the other breast. Fire shot from her chest to her sex as his teeth closed around the sensitive bud. He soothed the sting with his tongue, sucking at the hard peak like a thirsty man at a well. Cool air played over her chest, teasing the first nipple still wet from his mouth. It jutted straight up from her breast, hard and glistening pink.

  “Like candy,” he muttered.

  She clutched the back of his head, holding him to her chest. Anything to make the exquisite sensation keep going. His tongue flicked the tight point of her nipple, nibbling and suckling like he couldn’t get enough. Every draw of his hot mouth made heat shoot between her thighs. She thrust her hips up, desperate to get closer to him. Touch me there.

  He released her and reared back. Their eyes collided. Two spots of color burned high on his cheeks. “Holy hell, woman, you are driving me mad.”

  She reached for him. He grabbed her arms and stretched them over her head. “Spread your legs for me, petite.”

  Her legs fell open of their own accord.

  Max was between her thighs in an instant, his hard length pressing against her hot center.

  She thrust her hips against him. The hard seam of his jeans scraped against her sex while buttery warmth spiraled around her clit. Heaven. She thrust again, desperate for the friction. Her heart pounded as if she’d run a mile.

  He bent his head and kissed the tips of her breasts. “What do you want, petite?”

  She tossed her head. The pounding ache in her sex was unbearable. With her hands pinned above her head, she was helpless. If he didn’t touch her there, she’d do it herself. “I need…” She moaned as he transferred both her wrists to one hand and slipped the other down the front of her panties. His fingers found her clit. Yes! She bucked against his hand.

  Above her head, his thumb pressed against the tender gash in her wrist. Fire blazed a path down her arm.

  Nausea crashed over her. She screamed and writhed under him. Crystal clarity trampled in its wake. What was she doing? Sex with Max meant tying her very life to his. She shoved him away with more force than she intended. “Stop!”

  Max fell back as Lizette shoved him away with surprising strength. Unbalanced, he caught himself on one hand. “What the hell, Lizette?” he barked as she wiggled from underneath him. Thwarted desire splashed over him like a bucket of ice water.

  She scrambled back and huddled against the headboard, cradling her injured wrist in her lap. Her eyes were huge in her face. “Don’t touch me!”

  He grasped her ankle.

  She snatched her leg from his reach. “I said don’t!” She pulled her bra straps over her shoulders with a shaking hand.

  He growled as the pink tips of her breasts disappeared.

  “We can’t do this,” she said, her voice shaking.

  “What are you talking about?” The heat that had arced between them hung in the air. Hell, the scent of her desire still filled his senses. “Five seconds ago you were begging for it.”

  She gasped. If looks could kill, he would have died in a puff of smoke. “I was not begging. You took advantage.” Her eyes flashed. “Business as usual.”

  It was a sucker punch, but he took it because it was what he deserved.

  Unfortunately, her challenge did nothing to cool the flames of lust still searing him. He was Alpha—his wolf liked a fight. His cock was hard as iron in his pants. His inner beast paced, eager to claim their mate, and it didn’t particularly care why it was a horrible idea.

  He closed his eyes…dragged air into his lungs. Little by little, he wrested control from the wolf. He opened his eyes. She watched him, her expression wary.

  He extended his hand. “You’re…” Blesser. His mind groped for the translation—something that only happened when he was angry or tired. Or harder than an anvil. He snapped his fingers as it came to him. “Hurt. At least let me look at your wound.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “You are not fine. You nearly brought a man back from the dead tonight.”

  “Where is he?”

  Jealousy coated his guts like acid. She dared to ask about the well-being of another male? One of the many ropes restraining his temper threatened to snap. He formed each word with deliberate precision. “Are you worried about him?”

  She lifted her chin. “I’m worried about what you might have done to him.”

  The ropes stretched tight. “Still have a soft spot in your heart for the Hallertons?” He leaned toward her. “Maybe you can tell me why one of them was stupid enough to show up on my land tonight, at this most interesting of times, hein?”

  “Why don’t you ask him?

  “He’s a little short on vocal cords at the moment, remember?”

  She took a deep breath. “I have no idea why Jonah was in the forest, nor do I care. But unless you can prove he’s broken a law, you have no
right to harm him.”

  “He broke pack law when he crossed the border without permission. It’s within my rights to execute him. Any other Alpha would have.”

  She gasped. “Have you?”

  It hurt that she needed to ask. “He’s in the Pit.”

  “What? He’s injured!”

  “Lizette—”

  “Until he can talk, you have no way of knowing why he’s here. And until then you have an obligation to treat him humanely.”

  He let his voice drop below human range. “Ah, but I’m not human.”

  She met his look head on, outrage blazing in her eyes. “You will not hurt Jonah.”

  In a beat, the fire fueling his anger burned into lust.

  She couldn’t know it, but her challenge sent blood barreling straight to his cock. No one ever challenged him, yet here she was, all long legs and fierce blue eyes, daring him to cross her. It took every shred of control he possessed not to reach for her—to crush her to him, seize her soft mouth, and mold her body to his.

  Only Lizette Butler could crouch in a tangle of sheets wearing nothing but a bra and panties and order an enraged Alpha not to hurt a prisoner.

  Her creamy skin glowed against the black matte fabric of the headboard. The soft light of the fire picked up the faint red highlights in her sable hair. Her firm, high breasts trembled with her breaths. She was painted in bold colors, his Lizette—dark, dark hair and porcelain skin. Red lips and those deep blue eyes that looked straight into a man’s soul and out the other side. The firelight played over her skin and reflected in her eyes, giving her the otherworldly look of a solemn fairy.

  Or a werewolf Alpha’s bride.

  She should have been afraid of him. Anyone with any sense would be. But she just gazed at him with her steady eyes—the same soulful stare she’d given him on that LA street corner all those years ago. In truth, she’d never feared him, not even as a child. Her wolf had always known she was his. He wrapped his hand around one slender ankle.

  Her leg twitched but she didn’t pull away. “I told you not to do that.”

  “I know, but I have to touch you.” He slid his hand higher, breaching her defenses inch by inch. “I can’t help it.” And the fact that he couldn’t was a source of endless frustration. She was like a drug, and he shook with the need for his next fix.

  She put her hand over his, but she didn’t try to stop his progress. “That’s exactly why this can’t happen. We can’t happen.” She bit her plump lower lip.

  He stifled a groan. Slow with her. He had to be slow. And he needed to listen. His fingers grazed the smooth column of her thigh. “Why can’t we happen, bébé?”

  She thrust out a hand like she was trying to ward him off. “Max, please. Don’t make this harder.”

  A bark of frustrated laughter escaped him before he could stop it. “Trust me, it can’t get any harder.”

  If she caught the innuendo she didn’t show it. She gripped his wrist. “That’s just it. You can’t control it, and neither can I. This…this pull between us started five years ago, and it’ll only get worse. It’s malignant.”

  Max recoiled. Nothing about the lux catena was malignant. It was the greatest gift of their species. “Lizette, where is this coming from?”

  She pressed against the headboard, her expression stark. “It’s the lux catena. I’ve seen what it does to people. It creates an obsession.” She gestured between them. “Look at what it’s doing to us. Five years ago you barely knew my name. But after…” She swallowed. “After N-Nathan and the forest and your claim, you wanted to control my every move.”

  “Lizette—”

  “But we have a chance to stop it.” Her voice shook. “If you’ll just let me go, we can each have a normal life. We don’t have be slaves to this thing!”

  The scent of her tears sent a bolt of pain through his chest. He reached for her.

  “No!” She scrambled off the bed.

  He slid off but kept the bed between them to stop her from bolting. If she ran from him, he wasn’t sure he could keep his wolf from chasing her. Somehow he had to make her understand just how thin a tightrope they were both walking.

  And neither of them with a safety net.

  He followed her stare to his chest, which was exposed through his unbuttoned shirt. He pulled the halves together and buttoned it.

  “I have a few things to say, so please hear me out. First, I owe you an apology. Your understanding of the mate bond is woefully incorrect. I should have expected no less, given your upbringing, and I accept full responsibility.” He hooked his thumbs in his jeans pockets. “Two, what happened between us five years ago was my mistake and only mine. I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting it. In time, I hope to one day be worthy of your forgiveness.”

  Behind him, a log split and crashed against the others in the grate. Heat seared his back and orange light swelled across the mahogany floors. Across the bed, Lizette hugged her arms around her midsection.

  “But let me be clear,” he said. “And remember, petite, you can smell a lie. I’ve known you were mine since the day I met you.”

  Her lips parted.

  “You have always been mine. If I kept my distance in the past, it was only due to the difference in our ages.” He let his wolf rise just enough to put a frisson of power behind his words so she could scent the truth in them. “But that difference doesn’t matter now. I can’t allow you to run from me anymore. You and I are out of time.”

  Confusion played over her features. “Time? I don’t understand.”

  “If you think we can stop this and ‘have a normal life,’ as you put it, you are wrong, Lizette. We’re already bound. But the lux catena is unfinished. Until we complete our bond, I can’t protect you.”

  “I don’t need protecting.”

  “Yes, you do. If we continue like this, word will get out. Other Alphas will learn of your Gift, and they’ll fight to claim you.”

  She startled, then she smiled. “That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think? Healers are a dime a dozen.”

  And now they’d come to it. He took a deep breath. “Not that Gift. Your other one.”

  “I don’t have—”

  He put up a hand. “Hear me out.”

  Her brow furrowed, but she stayed silent. When she didn’t move, he rounded the bed and stopped a few feet from her.

  “Your parents weren’t just Healers, petite. They were Bloodsingers. The only ones born in their generation.”

  Her frown deepened. “Bloodsingers? What kind of Gift is that? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “A Gift…a curse.” He ran his hand over the thick comforter covering the edge of the bed. “Bloodsingers are Healers of extraordinary skill, but that’s not why they’re prized. Some werewolves are born with an imbalance—too much man, too little wolf.”

  “Latents.”

  He nodded. “Bloodsingers can fix it, make the two halves equal. Draw out the wolf. Do you understand what I’m saying, Lizette? Your parents could Turn latents, and so can you.”

  A long silence stretched between them. The fire crackled and spit. Max watched her, afraid to move.

  Her voice was a thread of sound. “How long you have known this?”

  “I suspected from the moment I met you. It made sense, given your bloodline. My suspicions were confirmed after you left and the number of Turned latents dropped. Then Haley’s Turn confirmed it.”

  Her eyes widened. “You sent her?”

  “Yes. I wanted to be certain.”

  “You said this…Bloodsinger thing is a curse. Why?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and held it on the back of his neck. “My father was a hundred and twenty-two when he died. He met only one Bloodsinger during his lifetime—your mother. He did his damnedest to keep her existence a secret, and I’ve done the same with you. As far as I know, there are two Bloodsingers living today: you and a male in his eighties. At least that’s the rumor. Last I heard, he’d retreated to a cave s
omewhere in a Spanish desert, somewhere GPS hasn’t mapped yet.”

  She looked shocked. “Judging from your expression I’m guessing that was deliberate.”

  Max dropped his hand to his side. “We don’t have a lot of children, petite.” She blushed, and his heart flipped over.

  “No one knows why,” he continued, “but our birth rates have declined over time. Imagine your only child can’t Turn. But you’ve heard rumors of a special wolf who can work miracles—a wolf with magic in her veins. Your only child is facing a lifetime of pain and maybe not even much of a life at all. The lux catena doesn’t work for latents. Few find a wolf willing to mate with them. Mating with humans is a possibility, but latents who choose that path are forced to cut off all contact with their families. Faced with the near-certainty of losing your only child to madness, despair, or the human world, wouldn’t you do just about anything to make sure that didn’t happen?”

  “Of course.”

  He closed the distance between them. She tensed but held her ground. He slid a hand under her jaw and let his fingertips graze the mark on her nape. “But there are hundreds of latents and only one of you. Your Bloodsinger ability isn’t something you can shut off. We don’t know a lot about it. Throughout the centuries, Alphas with a Bloodsinger in their pack have guarded them jealously. Hell, you could go downstairs and ask ten of my younger wolves what a Bloodsinger is, and eight of them might not be able to tell you.”

  Her lips parted.

  “But I do know this,” he added. “The Gift is like a river, not a tap. It flows whether you want it to or not. You can Turn a latent simply by being in close proximity to one.”

  She frowned. “I spent a lot of time with…” She glanced away and her pulse jumped, as if she was nervous. “I was around Nathan all the time when we dated. Why didn’t he Turn?”

  “It’s likely your Gift was weaker then, or maybe his wolf wasn’t strong enough. Maybe a combination of both. You said yourself the headaches have gotten worse over time.”

  “So I’ll be like this forever?” She met his gaze, and fear shadowed her eyes. “Could this kill me?”

  He feathered his thumb across her bottom lip. “No. Our lore doesn’t say anything like that. But you need a strong mate. With a fully formed bond, you could draw on your mate’s strength.”