Sierra blinks slowly, her cheeks starting to heat. “You ask as if I haven’t already told you. Do you not remember or do you just not care? Please tell me you’re not so stupid that youcan’t figure out why I have a distinct distaste for all mythics, especially shifters. Tell me you’re not that blind to what your kind has done to this world.”
“We cleansed it of pollution and the many plagues humans brought to it,” I point out, which is an entirely true statement. In the two centuries since shifters have overtaken the Earth, it’s gone from a planet on the brink of collapse to a beautiful world, lush with greenery, nature, and the magic that stems from nature.
Her fists clench. “You fuckingruinedit!”
I’m almost certain Sierra wants to take that knife out of her pocket and chop me into pieces, but I press on. If getting her mad is the only way to get her to talk, I’ll do it. I’ve already proven I’m not above playing dirty to get what I want. “Go on,” I encourage, my tone intentionally condescending—even though condescension is the last thing I feel right now—as I stalk closer to her.
In reality, I understand her frustration and anger. I want to help her work towards her goals, whatever they might be. I wish for us to be on the same team, but I can’t do that if she blocks me out at every turn.
“I’m not having this conversation,” she snaps. “Get out of my face—I’m sure you have plenty of Alpha duties to be going about. I’ll help ward the castle tomorrow—”
“No,” I interject. “You were on quite the roll as to why you hate shifters—don’t let me stop you.” Her eyes start to shine, and it feels like someone’s twisting a blade in my chest, but I persevere. “Tell the truth, Sierra. Exactly why do I get the sense you want to see all of us dead?”
My taunt works. Her face and neck flush a deep red with anger, and she loses the tight control she always keeps on herself. “Because I wouldn’t have had to become an adult at fourteen if it wasn’t for you stuck-up piles of goat-shit invading!” she shouts. “Because I would’ve still had a family! You might know a thing or two about responsibilities,but you knownothingof having to work around the clock just to stay afloat.” For a change of beat, she steps into my personal space, hands twitching like she wants to wrap them around my throat. “You don’t know what it’s like to get up at the crack of dawn every morning to run a damn farm. You don’t know exactly what goes into it—at least ten fucking hours of hard labor every single day. You don’t know what it’s like mucking out horse stalls, plowing, planting, harvesting the land, hunting for meat, and raising ababyon top of it.
“I was fourteen when my mother died—bleeding out from birthing little Leisel because there were no damn doctors to help her. I didn’t have any time to grieve her death—instead,Ibecame the mother.Ibecame the provider.Ibecame the man of the house when my biggest worry should’ve been studies and boys!” She pauses, flushed and breathing hard. Then, she walks away from me, prowling to the other side of the room. “Scratch that, I grew up when my father died because I couldn’t bear to have my pregnant mother miscarrying due to overworking herself.” A tear rolls down her cheek, and she swipes at it angrily. “The day I first held Leisel in my arms, the day I lost my mother, I wasfourteen. I’d just gotten my period.” Her voice is wobbly now—heart-wrenchingly vulnerable. For a moment, she looks the same way I suspect she did the day she lost her mother—like a lost afraid girl. Her eyes are wide, her lips are trembling, and her chin is wobbling. It’s only through sheer power of will that I force myself to stay in place instead of going to her to try to comfort her. Protecting her from everything—even her own inner difficulties and turmoil, which I know she won’t let me do any time soon.
In a small voice, she continues, looking at the floor. “I wanted to die, that day. In the few minutes between my mother breathing her last breath and a nurse handing me Leisel, I saw no reason for living.” I’m quite sure that, at this point, our bond is the only thing keepingher talking; subconsciously pushing her to open up because it knows I’ll do my very best to be there for her. I can only hope she’ll let me. “In that moment, I forgot about everything—the farm, my new-born sister, and my parents’ wish for me to have a fruitful life. I wanted to go to the river in the forest behind my home and allow myself to drown.” A sad smile touches her lips, and I know she’s currently lost to the memories of that day. “Like Ophelia in Hamlet, who succumbed to her difficulties. That idea was fascinatingly symbolic and so incredibly enticing.”
Her eyes harden with determination, her posture straightens, and I get the sense that she’s moved on from that dark memory. It relieves me on a fundamental level because I’m a hairbreadth away from disregarding common sense, crossing the distance between us, and kissing her pain away.
“I think the nurse washing and bundling Leisel in blankets could see that I was on the precipice of giving up entirely. One second I was staring at my mother’s corpse, and the next second the nurse handed me my sister, asking what her name was for the birth certificate. I looked at Leisel—her infant self as tiny and vulnerable as I felt—and saw a reason to live. She’d been crying, but as soon as her golden eyes met mine, she quieted. Then, after less than a heartbeat of studying me, she smiled. I saw my future in that smile. I saw her growing up under my care, on the farm. I saw thousands of her smiles at different stages in our lives. I saw myself wiping her tears and holding her when she was upset. I saw myself annihilating anyone or anything thatdaredupset her. And I knew then I’d do anything—anything—to keep her safe and happy. So, I survived for her. After a few months, I began living again. The most precious gift I’ve ever received was her existence because it point-blanksavedme. And tonight, the last living member of my family was put in jeopardybecause of your kind!” She wraps herarms around her waist, shrinking into herself. “I couldn’t survive if she was gone. I wouldn’t want to. And it’s because ofyourpresence in my life that a vampire held up a black fucking claw to her neck. So excuse me for detesting the very sight of you, Camden, but surely you’ll understand why there’s a surplus of bad blood between your kind and mine.
“Any duties I carry out or help I lend will always be in the interest of humans and my little sister,notin you. I willneveraccept you. I willnevercare for you. The only reason I’ll tolerate you is for the sake of others.”
I let out a deep breath, stunned into silence. I knew Sierra had by no means led an easy life, but I didn’t know the depth of her turmoil before. Now, I’m at a complete loss for how to approach her or how to overcome the barriers between us, especially since she doesn’t want them overcome. In fact, she’ll be actively workingagainstmy efforts.
Sierra walks to the table with our drinks, gulps down her wine, and then looks me right in the eyes. Calmly, she says, “The next time you provoke me, I will begin burning things down. This beautiful castle of yours will only take a few licks of my flame to disappear. Tread very carefully, Alpha. Fate might have played a cosmic trick by pairing us, but I only adhere to the wishes of myself and my sister.”
With that, she sets down her glass. “I’ll speak with your witch doctor in the morning and set about making a sturdy barrier tomorrow. If you could stay the fuck out of my way while I work to protect Leisel, it’d be much appreciated. I warn you now that my mood is foul, and whenever that happens, things tend to burn.”
I narrow my eyes. At this point, there’s only one play I can make; one guaranteed sensation I can spark within Sierra.Arousal.
Before she can walk away, I snake my arm around her waist, pull her against me, and slant my lips over hers.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sierra
Ithought I’d felt lust for Camden before—thought I already knew what it was like to be eaten up by desire for him, but now, as his lips crash down on mine, I understand that I knew nothing of how intense the pleasure could be.
Maybe it’s because the bond is progressing. Or it could be the fact that I’m exhausted, homesick, and utterly terrified that I won’t be able to protect Leisel in this strange land surrounded by people I don’t know or trust. Whatever the reason, his consuming kiss doesn’t just send lust scorching through me, it somehow manages to comfort me.
I’ve felt so incredibly alone even in the short time I’ve been conscious in Kinrith. Although I’ve always enjoyed my privacy, I was still social regularly in Aesara, and I never realized just how much I took for granted the lighthearted interactions I had with fellow villagers until I lost the opportunity. I never felt as utterly alone as I did tonight whiletucking Leisel into bed and scrambling together ideas to keep both of us safe.
Camden’s possessive,consumingkiss wipes the loneliness away. It wipes the fear away. It disperses my rage and anger at him, along with all the turmoil floating around within me, and replaces it with an arousal so captivating it leaves my head spinning.
His lips devour mine with an intensity that would scare me if I didn’t crave it so much. His tongue clashes with mine, his teeth nip at my lip, and his hands hold me so tightly against him I can’t move an inch—all I can do is feel. Feel the comfort. Feel the burning desire he’s instigating within me, which I know deep down he’ll satisfy by the end of tonight.
My body goes entirely pliant against him; my hands clutch his shoulders for purchase as I hold on for the ride, unable to do anything but accept the forceful, dominating kiss that has no business riling me the way it does.
Camden abruptly swings me up into his arms, keeping his lips pressed firmly against mine. His hands grip my ass, and my legs instinctually wrap around his waist. I clutch onto him for dear life and accept his toe-curling kiss. My nipples harden into tight points, sensitive even against the soft material of my bra. Heat pools in my core, and I feel my panties growing damp. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and kiss him back just as aggressively as he’s kissing me.
He starts walking us somewhere and I feel soft cushions against my back as he lowers me onto the couch, before climbing atop me. In the brief moment that his lips are separated from mine, rational thought returns.
No, this is wrong.This is all sorts of wrong. I shouldn’t be accepting this from the person who has put me in such extreme distress that Ispent days unconscious in the first place. I should be hitting Camden and fighting him, not welcoming his touch docilely.
I press my palms against his chest, stopping him and attempting to scramble back. His hands clamp on my hips, his facial features twist into a snarl, and his eyes turn a startlingly bright icy blue.
