“Ryker,” I whisper, unsure if it’s a warning or a plea.
“Tell me to stop,” he says, voice low and rough. “And I will.”
I don’t. I can’t.
Instead, I tilt my face up, lips parting slightly. His eyes flash with hunger. But he’s restrained, balancing on the edge.
His hand slides down, warm against my waist as he steps closer, chest nearly brushing mine. The damp fabric we wear are barriers in name only. I can feel the heat of him, the strength, the hunger beneath the surface.
“Your eyes are saying yes,” he murmurs, his mouth so close to mine I can taste the promise, “but your body’s saying no, little wolf.”
I shudder. Not from fear, but from the sheer force of his control.
“And I will not force my mate.” He steps back, just a breath, but it might as well be a mile. “You’ll want me just as much as I want you. You’ll come to me because you need to, not because the bond tells you to.”
It shouldn’t undo me. Shouldn’t make something inside me tremble more than any kiss could. But it does. That hewantsme but won’ttakeme. That he sees my hesitation and meets it with patience.
My throat tightens. “I don’t know how to give myself without breaking.”
Ryker smiles, slow and dangerous, but not unkind. “Then we’ll go slow.”
He turns away, giving me space. Control.
“Sleep in my bed tonight,” he adds, glancing over his shoulder. “Just sleep. Let your body learn me without fear.”
And damn, if that isn’t the most seductive thing he’s said all night.
Chapter
Nine
Iwake to unfamiliar softness, my body cradled in furs that smell of earth and stone andhim. Ryker. My mate. The claiming mark on my throat pulses with his power, a constant reminder of our bond. Sunlight filters through crystal formations in the ceiling, casting rainbow patterns across the stone walls of our den.
Our den.The thought still feels foreign—like a secret I’ve stolen and will eventually be punished for keeping.
I reach for Ryker but find cooling furs beside me. The events of last night rush back, and I remember his amused rumble as I’d struggled to keep my eyes open, his lips brushing my forehead as he’d tucked me against his chest.
“Rest,” he’d murmured. “You are safe here, little wolf.”
Now I stretch, taking inventory of my body. The aches from the claiming have faded, leaving only a pleasant soreness in muscles unused to such exertion.
I roll and close my eyes, sinking back into the furs only to feel a tickle in the back of my mind. A whisper-light touch that stirs my she-wolf.
What is it?I ask her, unsure.
Our mate. Feel him.
I keep my eyes closed, following the whisper. We walk together, my wolf and I, along pathways where Ryker’s voice grows stronger, his presence more clear.
Is this normal?I ask my wolf.
This is the way of all wolves.
But it wasn’t in our old pack.
She shakes her head, letting out a whining growl that articulates clearly what she thinks of our previous pack.
We move along and suddenly all the whispers and white noise snap into focus.
