“No one is forcing you to do anything. You can walk away right now. Go back to Llewelyn, tell your aunt what we learned, and let pack leadership decide how to handle it. The choice is yours.”
“Except it’s not!” I shove him, both hands against his chest. He barely moves. “Because if I walk away, the curse continues. My sister grew up unable to feel properly. Any daughters I might have inherit the same prison. Walking away means letting Moira Ashwood’s revenge win for another generation.”
He catches my wrists when I go to shove him again. “So you stay. You marry me. You break the curse.”
I try to pull free, but he holds firm. “I don’t like having my entire future decided by supernatural forces I can’t control!”
“You think I planned any of this? I didn’t choose to recognize you as my mate or for you to be the key to breaking a curse. Nor did I choose to be in this impossible situation where the woman I’m bonded to hates me for circumstances neither of us controls.”
“Don’t you dare make this about you.” I wrench my hands free and shove him again, harder this time. “Don’t you dare act like you’re the victim here when you’re the one asking me to give up everything.”
“I’m not asking you to give up anything. I’m telling you what breaking the curse requires and letting you decide if it’s worth it.” He grabs my wrists again when I go to hit him. “But stop acting like marrying me is some terrible sacrifice. Stop pretending the mate bond is just manipulation when you feel it just as strongly as I do.”
“I hate you.” The words come out venomous. “I hate that you saved me. I hate that the bond exists. I hate that breakingthe curse means binding myself to you forever when all I want is to go home and forget any of this ever happened.”
He pulls me flush against him, and I can feel his heart pounding as hard as mine. “You don’t hate me. You hate that you want me despite everything. Hate that the bond makes you need me when your Llewelyn training says needing anyone makes you weak.”
“Stop telling me what I feel. You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know you’re terrified. I know you’re angry at fate for putting you in this position. I know you want to run, but you won’t, because letting your pack suffer isn’t something you can live with.” His green eyes bore into mine. “And I know that right now, you want to kiss me as much as you want to kill me.”
“You’re insane.”
“Prove it.” He releases my wrists, giving me the space to walk away if I choose. “Prove you don’t want this.”
I should leave. Should put distance between us and think through everything rationally. Should remember that I’m furious at fate for forcing this choice on me, at circumstances that have stripped away every option except this one.
Instead, I grab his shirt and pull him down to meet me.
This kiss is anger and need, and frustration channeled into something physical. I bite his lip hard enough to draw blood, and he growls against my mouth before kissing me back with matching violence.
He fists his hands in my hair, angling my head so he can take the kiss deeper. I claw at his shirt, and buttons scatter across the floor as I tear it open. I need to feel his skin. Need to make him feel something besides that infuriating calm.
“Sera.” My name comes out rough when we break for air. “We should—”
“Shut up. Don’t talk. Don’t explain. Just take what you want.”
He spins us and lifts me onto the desk, sending papers and books flying across the room. His mouth finds mine again while he works my jeans open. I kick off my shoes and help him strip the denim down my legs, desperate to remove every barrier between us.
“This doesn’t change anything,” I tell him between kisses. “I’m still furious with you.”
“Be furious. Hate me while I make you come.”
I yank his belt open and shove his jeans down far enough to free his cock. He’s already hard, already leaking at the tip. I wrap my hand around him and stroke once, twice, making him groan.
“Is this what you wanted?” I squeeze harder than necessary. “To manipulate me into needing you?”
“I wanted you safe.” He hooks his fingers in my underwear and tears them off completely. “Everything else is just problems we’re both stuck with.”
“Problems.” I laugh harshly. “That’s one way to—”
He pushes two fingers inside me without warning, and the words die in my throat. I’m already wet, already ready for him despite the anger still burning through my veins.
“You’re not being forced.” He curls his fingers, finding the spot that makes me see stars. “You’re choosing this. Choosing me. Even while you’re furious about it.”
“I hate you.” But I rock against his hand, chasing the pleasure he’s building.
“I know.” He adds a third finger, stretching me open. “Hate me while I fuck you on my desk. Hate me while you come apart on my cock. Hate me all you want as long as you don’t stop.”
