“You don’t own me, Ryker.” I shoved at his chest, but I’d have had better luck getting a boulder to move. “I can fuck whoever I want.”
“Agree to disagree.” He raised his right hand to caress my jawline, and I barely managed to kill the impulse to lean into his touch.
It’s not because it’s him. It’s because you’re touch starved, I thought bitterly. Even the most stoic Velesians craved touch, but lycanthropes in particular needed it. We were meant to be in a pack, and I hadn’t truly belonged to one in over a decade.
I’d been dealing with the lack of physical contact—outside of my many mistakes with Ryker—by convincing myself that things would get better between me and the others. That we’d have more casual touching in our daily interactions.
But that was never going to happen because they would never view me as one of them.
“I don’t think you’re a traitor, Rynn,” he said quietly.
“You didn’t say anything,” I repeated, hating that even I could hear the pain in my voice.
His fingers went still where they’d been stroking my jaw. “Cade and Bastian . . . they have their reasons.”
And there it was. The reminder of where his loyalty would always lie. Fool me once . . .
I planted my palms against his chest and pushed with every ounce of my strength. Ryker took one step back, and I darted towards the entrance, only for him to grab my wrist and yank me back. I went with it, using the momentum, and slammed my fist into his nose.
Cartilage crunched and blood sprayed, but the bastard still didn’t release me.
“Let go!” I demanded.
“That the best you got, Princess?” Ryker grinned and slowly, one finger at a time, released his hold on me. His nose was crooked and blood covered his face . . . and it all made him hotter.
Life wasn’t fair.
“Fuck off,” I snapped before turning and stalking towards the exit, or at least that had been my goal.
My instincts screamed at me, and I jumped straight up, avoiding Ryker’s attempt to swipe my feet out from under me.
Spinning back around, I brought up my elbow just in time to block a punch to my stomach. Ryker bared his teeth. “We’re not done.”
“Yes.” I jabbed at his face, forcing him to step back, and I did the same, putting much-needed distance between us. “We are.”
“Not your decision.” Ryker stalked towards me with a look I knew all too well.
Shit. I darted to the side but was too slow. He tackled me, twisting so he landed on the ground with me on top of him. Ryker might love to spar with me, but he always pulled his punches. He enjoyed pushing me, seeing how fast I could go. How hard I could hit.
He was often angry at me for one thing or another, but never for landing hits. If anything, the more I hurt him, the happier the lycan got.
Because Ryker was unhinged.
Then again, I was the one rolling around on the cave floor with him for the second time today. If he was crazy but I kept coming back for more . . . what did that make me?
Leave. I needed to leave right now.
I sprung up only for Ryker to yank me back down so I straddled his stomach. He twisted my arms behind my back, holding them in place with one hand and pressing me down with the other until our faces were only a couple of inches apart. My blood was pumping. I was still furious, and I had a very hot, naked man beneath me.
Not just any man. Ryker.
Things were not looking good for my No-Bad-Decisions plan.
Ryker let out a deep, raspy laugh. “I can see how angry you still are, and I can feel”—he moved his hand from my back to my hip, encouraging me to grind against him—“how wet you are.”
I bit my tongue to hold in the moan that wanted to slip free as my core tightened. Ice-blue eyes laughed at me, and I really wanted to punch him . . . but not as much as I wanted something else.
“Ryker,” I growled.
