“You don’t know anything about shifters, do you? We all growl, Jessica.”
“N–not like that, not unless—” She couldn’t bring herself to finish her sentence, but she didn’t need to. I could read her thoughts loud and clear. It was always easiest when she was frightened or panicked. While the world of shifters, all paranormal creatures for that matter, were new to the human world, most of Jessica’s knowledge seemed to spur from rumors revolving around the Tacoma Wolf Pack and those shifter romance novels she occasionally read. Much of the information was just fictitious, but the little thought blaring in her head like a little alarm was correct. At least, partially.
The sound she’d heard was something a shifter made only around their mate.
“Is he going to claim me as his mate?”her mind asked.
Oh, Jessica. What are you going to say? That once upon a time, I already did?
“Ask the question you’re thinking right now.”
Her throat twitched with a swallow. “I don’t want to.”
“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me. You’ve always been courageous, don’t start getting shy on me now.”
Her eyes narrowed into gray slivers, and I could practically taste her ire on the tip of my tongue, the sudden shift in her mood causing the air to quiver.
“I’m getting pretty fed up with you acting like you know me. We just met yesterday. Stop acting like I’m yours.”
“You are mine, Jessica. You gave me your heart.”
“I gave you a kiss.”
“You know you gave me more than that,” I declared with a smirk. “Or at least, you will.”
Blood rushed to her cheeks, staining her ivory flesh with that most delicious hue. “This has all been to save my dad.”
I raised a finger, waggling it at her as I clicked my tongue. “Now you’re lying to yourself and me. You wanted me the moment you laid eyes on me. Don’t deny it, Kitten.”
Her mind was moving as fast as a jackrabbit on cocaine, but I could glean the general theme of each thought. She was trying to figure out why she was so attracted to me, why she was eagerly going along with all this. Because as much as she wanted to file it under the easy case file of “noble daughter,” she knew there was more to it than that.
Oh, Kitten. You have no idea how much more there is to this story.
“You must have confused me with someone else,” she murmured. “You’re treating me like I’m your mate.” Her voice grew frantic, raising an octave. “You’re acting like you know me. Like I’ve fallen and hit my head, and you’re trying to get me to remember who I am. It’s like a fucked upFifty First Dates, only instead of Adam Sandler I’m dating the devil!”
Bingo.
This date might not have stirred her memories enough to recall who she is, but at least our intentions behind tonight were clear. That was a start.
I took a step forward, sliding her a smooth as silk smile that made her throat and the delicate flesh stretched over her collarbone flush to match her cheeks.
She wore the color of sin so well.
“Fifty First Dates?Actually, that movie is an excellent analogy to what is going on here.” I chuckled, taking another step toward her. She took a tentative step back, her heart pounding in a wild tune of fear and excitement.
Oh, Lilith. She always did have a thing for danger.
“Only instead of Adam Sandler, I am indeed the Lord and Master of Death, Hell, and much of the cesspit that lies on top of all that. And you’re not simply dating me, Kitten. Now ask me the question burning in your brain.”
She took a deep breath, collecting her nerves. “Am I your mate?” Her voice sounded so small. She was afraid of the answer, yet the scent of her arousal coiling between her thighs lent a clue that her body still wanted me, even if her mind was still hanging on to the logic.
“You are.”
“But you haven’t claimed me yet.”
Another step forward. She retreated backward until her back bumped into the wall. I placed an arm on either side of her head, trapping her. I could see the two parts of her clashing, a war between her beast and her mortal human instincts. Even in this mortal form, her beast was still in there, driving her toward me.
“Oh, but I have claimed you, Kitten. A long, long time ago.” I reached to capture a stray lock of her blonde hair that had come undone from her bun and wound it slowly around my finger. Then I unwound it, tucked it behind her ear, and let my fingers slide from the shell of her ear, my knuckles brushing against the soft flesh of her throat.
