From behind her, the patron asked, as if inquiring about the health of a family member or the state of this year’s crops, “And what nature is that, exactly? I’d love to know what kind of shifter grows as large as you.”
A note of dry humor entered Otto’s deep voice. “I don’t see how that’ll matter in a moment.”
The patron snorted. “Very true! Might as well carry on then. You can tell me later.”
Josephine couldn’t stop the soft, pained sound that left her throat. Her fingers curled into fists by her sides as her mate gave her a warning look.
Slowly, he tilted his head to one side, exposing his left shoulder. “You’ll have to move the collar,” he instructed her, husky and warm.
The sound of his voice, the scent of him, the way he subtly swayed into her, set her aflame. Josephine tried to fight it. She raged against the compulsion that eroded her will, but it did her no good. Lust ran through her veins like warm honey, pooling in her belly, and the sweet ache in the roof of her mouth became unendurable.
Shuddering, crying, aware of every eye on them and yetdesperatefor him, Josephine lifted her hands to brace herself against the hot skin of his chest. His heart beat a thunderous rhythm beneath her curling claws.
Her blood rushed. Josephine the woman fell away, screaming all the while, as the beast took over.
Claim. Mark. Save him.
She arched onto her tiptoes and was only barely able to line her mouth up with the juncture of his neck and shoulder. A soft growl escaped her when his collar blocked her path. She pushed it up and out of her way, barely noticing how it seemed looser than it should have been, as her lip curled with a small snarl.
Otto was breathing fast when he dipped his head to rasp against her hair, “Remember,kone.Bite me deep.”
She’d imagined what it would be like to bite him, shameful and horrifying as it was. Josephine had wondered how it would feel to thrust her razor-sharp fangs through that warm, salty skin. She’d grown wet and needy at the thought of him wearing a mark of her making. She’d even considered what his blood would taste like, how erotic it would be to know her venom ran through his veins, tying them together for all time.
Her imaginings paled in comparison to the real thing.
Her fangs slid smoothly through his skin. There was hardly any resistance at all, and the silken glide was its own strange, twisting pleasure. The taste of his skin burst on her tongue — tangy, salty, something unique that was just her mate. Josephine’s claws curled into his chest, digging deep, as if her body feared he might try to pull away just as she fastened her grip on paradise.
And that was all before thevenom.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she should be horrified by the way stars exploded in front of her eyes, how the sudden, shocking release of pressure in the roof of her mouth was a bliss so profound, she had no words to describe it.
Fire raced through her veins as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through her, following the rhythm of her heart. She could feel the venom draining from her in pulses, and with each one, Otto’s breath stuttered, his hands twisting in the folds of her skirt. Sweat slicked his skin, making his taste all the more delicious.
From somewhere far away, she heard his whispered command,“Harder.”
Aiming to please him, always to please him, Josephine bit down until more than just her fangs were lodged in his flesh. Blood trickled out from the crescent-shaped wounds left by her upper and lower teeth.
Otto’s chest rumbled beneath her hands as she felt the last of her venom leave her. Instinct compelled her to pull back, to ease the ache with her tongue and soft touches.
Mine,the beast sighed.All mine.
Strong hands closed around her arms, pulling her away. Josephine reacted blindly, her fury turning her into a wild thing as she kicked, clawed, hissed, and snarled. She didn’t see the way Otto lunged for her, teeth bared, nor the way his eyes widened as she changed before him.
Josephine was not conscious of the fact that she had transformed into the beast. All she knew was that men were taking her from her mate. That he was in danger. That she would die before she let them be separated. That she would kill anyone who stood between them.
So she fought, claws swinging, lips pulled back from elongated fangs. A blow sent one man flying into the wall, and when another made to wrap his arm around her throat, choking her, she howled and kicked backwards, shattering bone.
Otto’s roar of outrage was cut off as he fell to his knees on the tile, his body convulsing. Bloody spray erupted from his mouth to speckle the tile.
Josephine fought harder, more desperate to reach him than ever, but somehow they managed to drag her back over the threshold. She kicked and clawed and wailed, gouging anything and everything in reach.
Still, someone closed the door and bolted it shut.Harrod.She watched as he raced to draw the sigil on its surface, her vision a haze of red.
She screamed with guttural fury and lunged for him.
The patron’s voice was pitched high with alarm when he commanded, “Restrain her. godsdamnit! Donotlet her bite you and don’t fucking damage her!”
Someone twisted a cruel hand in her hair, but she ignored it. Her attention was focused solely on the narrow-faced man who’d helped make her life pure misery, who thought to steal her future, who separated her from her mate when she needed him most.
