Oddly humbled and triumphant at once, I get up and offer him my hand.
Stark’s eyes narrow, but there’s no anger in them. No pride, either—not that I expected any. There is something, though. A gleam of emotion too complex to make sense of.
He ignores my hand and gets up on his own.
“We’re done for today,” he says, turning away from me quickly. “You’re dismissed.”
I leave his office drained and sore but elated. I’m making progress—significant,meaningfulprogress.
For the first time since I entered this world, I’m not totally unsure about my chances of survival. I have a long way to go still, but my prospects are looking much better than before, thanks to Stark.
Too bad he’s such an asshole, I muse, wandering back to my room. It would be nice to see him as an ally. We are supposed to be part of one big pack, after all.
But whatever. I don’t need to make friends with him to get what I need. I’m not sure Stark is even capable of friendship, anyway. He’s basically a walking war machine. And it hasn’t escaped me that his malicious attitude toward me has been a big motivating factor in my performance.
If he were nicer, I probably wouldn’t have come so far so quickly.
My thoughts of Stark scatter when I step into my room to find it occupied.
“Hi,” I say with a smile as Killian rises from his seat at my desk.
His face immediately darkens when he sees my bruises. There’s still blood on my lip, even though Anassa has healed me. Concern and anger war on his handsome features as he comes to me and gingerly touches my face.
“That fuckingprick,” he growls. “Does he really need to do this to you every day?”
I grin. “It was worth it. I beat him today for the first time.”
Killian sighs, lips curving into a rueful smile. “Congratulations. Though I wish your victory didn’t require quite so much blood.”
Anassa’s healing powers don’t do much for my bruises or muscle aches, so Killian still tends to me, rubbing healing tinctures into my hurts. I smile and sit down on the bed while Killian retrieves the familiar medicine kit from my wardrobe. He sits beside me and begins tending to my wounds with practiced care.
This has become our ritual. Stark beats me up, Killian stitches me back together again. It’s made the whole process a lot easier, knowing Killian will be here to soothe me after Stark’s lessons.
Killian’s touch is feather light against my bruised flesh, and despite the aches and pains, heat sparks in my body.
I can’t take it anymore. These past couple of weeks have been tortuous.
“Can I please have some privacy?”I ask Anassa.“I’m dying here. I won’t block you out if you think I can’t do it correctly, but maybe you can put the wall up from your end in a way that is satisfactory for you?”
There’s a long silence and then finally she says,“Fine.”There’s a slight pressure in my head as she erects the wall, and I try to project gratitude through it.
When Killian leans in to examine the place where my lip had split, I catch his mouth with mine. The kiss flares hot, tasting of copper and desire. As it deepens, my body responds with a searing rush of arousal driven by lingering adrenaline and triumph from my fight with Stark—not to mention that weird spark of desire I’d felt.
Killian leans into the kiss urgently, catching my top lip in his teeth, then plundering my mouth with his tongue.
I’m aware of all the pains in my body as he starts undressing me, but somehow, they only feed the desire. I’m feverish—primal.
Impatient, I pull Killian down on the bed roughly, climbing on top of him, both of us still only half-undressed. Grind myself against him, my underclothes already damp. Catching his eyes, I run my tongue slowly across my bottom lip.
Killian groans at the sight, and then flips us over so that he’s on top, pinning my arms down on the mattress. His mouth drops to my breasts, teeth grazing one nipple before biting down over the other, and I see stars.
I buck my hips, looking for friction,needingthat press of him against me. Killian just presses me down into the mattress, looking at me in amusement. “Need something, kitten?”
Half-heartedly, I squirm against his hold. “What if… you let me take charge tonight,” I say, mouth going dry at the look in his eyes.
“I’ll take good care of you,” Killian growls, moving one of his hands down to my hips and yanking off my remaining clothes, then teasing me with his fingers, first one, and then two, relentlessly pushing into my slick heat.
At the stretch of his touch so deep inside of me, heat unfurls in my abdomen, and I move my hips mindlessly. I lose the power of speech for a moment when he curls his fingers at exactly that spot I like.
