He turns. Those black eyes with brown just barely visible at the edges, like dawn coming up over a dark horizon. And he makes that sound again — the mournful one. Half roar, half moan. The sound of a male who carried his female to safety and is now fighting the hardest battle of his life, not against mercenaries or cartels, but against his own body telling him to take what he hasn’t been given.
And I know with absolute certainty what I need to do next.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The red haze thins.
It happens in fragments, like waking up from a nightmare where you know you’re dreaming but can’t force your eyes open. My rational mind resurfaces in pieces. Sloane. I jumped out of a window and threw her over my shoulder. I left everyone behind and kidnapped my female.
My body still rages. I put her down and stepped back but I’m massive, transformed, pacing this empty room because it’s the only thing keeping me from grabbing her again. Every cell screams at me to claim her. The feral and the man are fighting inside the same body and I don’t know which one is winning.
I always thought this Irontree curse was simply a fake tale told about ancient Irontrees turning into the worst kind of beast during winter frenzy. But it’s happened to Garlen, Keric and now me.
It’s very, very real.
My claws score the fresh paint on the walls. Steam rises off my skin. Through the bare window I can see mountains and light and none of it matters because all I can smell is her. Her real scent, not the chemical corruption that still burns in my lungs. Each breath I take pushes the synthetic terror a little furtherback. Sloane’s not in danger, she’s standing right here in this empty bedroom, watching me pace, and she’s not afraid.
Why isn’t she afraid?
She steps toward me. “Jonus. I know you’re in there. Come back to me.”
Her palm finds my jaw again. Burning hot skin meeting cool fingers. The contact sends a shudder through my entire body and a sound escapes from my throat that I don’t recognize.
My world shifts from red to something closer to normal. Her real scent is overpowering the chemical bomb that invaded all of my senses. The jump and run from Garlen’s house helped. And her touch is doing what nothing else could. But I’m still on the edge, hard, aching and desperate.
All I want is to sink inside of her wet heat.
I grab my female and place her back against the wall. I’m crowding her, my bigger body pressed against hers, my claws digging into the wall above her head. “I’ve kidnapped you,” I snarl. “All I want is to fill you with my seed. Tell me to stop. Tell me to stop and I’ll find a way.”
I shake with the effort of holding myself back. Simply pressing my erection against her, through two layers of fabric and not going further is taking all my concentration. Every tendon in my body is rigid. My claws now dig into my own palms hard enough to draw blood because if I reach for her right now I don’t trust myself to be gentle.
Because modern orcs don’t take. We ask. Even when every cell screams for conquest.
She lifts her chin. “I’m not telling you to stop.”
“Oh hell.” I squeeze my eyes shut. “I’ll fill you with my seed. You will get pregnant right away,” I growl, my mind full of glorious images of her stomach swollen with our offspring. “You will have only orc sons. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”
“I understand.”
“There’s no human birth control that works against the potency of an orc. The moment I’m inside you?—”
“Jonus.” Both her small hands are on my face now, forcing me to look at her. Those blue eyes steady. “I’ve been thinking about what it would be like to start a family with you.”
“And you still?—”
“I am ready. I’ve always wanted kids. The timing is right and I want this life with you. I want your orc sons, Jonus. I want to raise them together, with you.”
Heat forms behind my eyes. This human female stands in an empty bedroom with a feral orc twice her size who just kidnapped her through a second-story window and she’s telling me she wants to give birth to my offspring. “I never thought any female would want this with me.”
“I want everything and I’m lucky you wantmein return.”
And then she kisses me.
It’s our first real kiss. Not the desperate, terrified contact I was imagining. Her lips are soft against mine, careful around my tusks, and she tastes like coffee and sugar from this morning and I swear my knees almost buckle.
When she pulls back, my head is clearer. The rage is settling, but the physical need hasn’t decreased a millimeter, if anything, the tenderness of that kiss made it worse. My erection throbs and seed leaks from the crown. I want to sink into her so badly I can barely breathe.
I lean my hips in, so she can feel the outline of my shaft. She moans with delight. The scent of her arousal fills the air.
