My climax detonates. It rips through me, my pussy convulsing around his cock in relentless spasms. I clench, crying out into the roar of the storm against the glass.
He shouts my name. Surrenders with a final, shattering thrust buried deep. I feel the hot pulse deep inside as he empties himself, his hold the only anchor as my vision swam. His rhythm slows, becomes deep, shuddering pushes, prolonging the waves crashing inside us both. His forehead presses hard between my shoulder blades, breath coming in harsh, open-mouthed pants against my skin.
I collapse on the mattress, completely spent, and feel a sense of complete calm as he lays down by my side.
The frantic drumming against my ribs is the only sound now that the rain has softened to a murmur. Chest pressed to mine, our sweat cooling like melted wax. Darius strokes my spine with trembling fingers, breath ragged against my hair.
"Tessa." My name sounds broken in his mouth, a cracked whisper. He pulls back, wincing as my arms tighten around his neck instinctively. His pupils, dark and dilated with the shadow of the wolf, contract slightly under the dim light filtering through the rain-washed pane.
He doesn't just push me off; heflees. He scrambles backwards off the bed like the mattress is made of coals, grace abandoned. The cold air rushes in where his heat was.
His back hits the ornate wooden wardrobe across the bedroom. "Youhaveto leave." He shoves the words out, a harsh rasp that scrapes my skin. "Now. Tonight."
I twist onto my side, propping up on an elbow. The quilt bunches around my waist. The scent of us – sex, sweat, rain,him– is thick in the sudden distance. "Leave?"
"Go! Before…" He gestures sharply toward the window, the furious storm outside barely a whisper now. Towards the unseen moon. Towards the beast he fights. "Before I... Tessa, you cannot be here!"
The panic radiating off him is a physical thing, sharp and sour under the expensive wool of his discarded sweater littering the floor. It isn't manufactured anxiety; it’s terror. Bone-deep. Forme.
My brow furrows. "I’m your nurse. I signed a contract. This room, that monstrosity of a kitchen downstairs with the copper pans, hell, the entire paranoid castle-isolation routineyoubuilt? This is currently my job site, Crane." I keep my voice low, level, but it firms over granite. "Andyoujust invited me into your bed."
He flinches like I’d thrown a punch. "That was… a grotesque error. A lapse. A dangerous stupidity onmypart. It proves exactly why you have to go." He runs a hand through the sweat-damp dark strands at his temple, fingers unsteady. "You don't understand thedegreeof risk."
"Oh, I understand." I push myself fully upright, letting the quilt pool around my hips. Skin prickles in the room's chill, but I don’t grab for a sheet. I meet his wild gaze straight on. "Dangerous? You? You’ve been banging that drum since the day I walked in carrying my pathetic suitcase." A flicker of grim amusement lights in me. "Turns out the only thing likely to kill me tonight was suffocating between your thighs or snapping my spine. Survived that. Feeling strangely underachieved."
He stares at me, frustration warring with raw fear. "This isn't ajoke. The Blood Moon… the closer it gets, the less control… Tessa." His voice cracks again. "I couldtear you apart. Without thought. Without wanting to. And wake up… wake up covered in…" He can’t finish. The colour bleaches from his face. The image he paints isn't new; the reality in his eyes is terrifyingly vivid. His knuckles whiten on the wardrobe door handle.
A cold knot forms in my stomach. This isn't post-coital regret. This is elemental dread. He believes it. He truly believes the monster underhisskin will feast on mine. But the foster system taught me about real monsters disguised as protectors. The look in his eyes? It's torment, not menace. And I have nothing left to runtobut Gavin's threats. I made my choice on the storm-lashed bed when I slid my hand under his waistband.
I stand up. Slowly. Naked, every inch feeling strangely strong. He tenses like a live wire, muscles bunching, ready to bolt… or pounce? I step towards him, one careful foot in front of the other on the cool rug. Don’t crowd. Don’t threaten. Just stand my ground. Inches away.
"So, that's your grand finale?" I tilt my chin up. "Chase the help away after one good lay?"
His eyes flare, a low growl rumbling in his chest, vibrating the wood paneling behind him. "Tessa," he warns again, deadly low.
A bitter, almost lazy smile touches my lips. I shrug a bare shoulder, the motion detached, final. My eyes don't leave his. "Then I’m staying until your monster eats me. Save you the trouble of tracking my scent through the woods. Sounds efficient." My voice doesn't waver. It holds a brittle calm, an ultimatum wrapped in defiance.
And Darius finally seems to understand I'm not going anywhere.
16
DARIUS
The scent hits me first—wrong in every way that matters. It slithers under the threshold like poison: synthetic, cloying, too clean, like disinfectant and polished leather hiding something festering underneath. It doesn’t belong here, not in this wild place, not in my home, and it scrapes against every instinct I’ve got like claws across bone. I rise slowly from the edge of the greenhouse where I’ve been checking the new seedlings Tessa planted, heart already pounding in my throat.
The scent is human. But not just any human.
It’shim.
The scent that followed Tessa when she first arrived, curled around her fear and anxiety like a snake. The warning that was buried in her deeper than the snow.
The world narrows. I move, boots crunching through the snow, the cold forgotten in the wake of the fire starting in my blood. I don’t need to track the scent far—his voice carries, slick and oily as the stench that coats his skin. It’s coming from the front of the estate. He’s standing there like he owns the place, standing across from Tessa.
She’s barefoot. Still wearing the damn sweater she stole from my closet that morning. Her shoulders are squared, jaw tight, and I can see it—she’s trying not to shake. But I know her body now, every line of it, every tremble, every breath. She’s terrified. And she’s holding herself still so he won’t see it.
And that breaks something inside me.
He’s got a smug smile and that voice that grates like glass in my ears. “Come now, Tessa. Don’t make this dramatic. I’ve come to bring you home.”
