“No, I won’t let that happen.”
“I understand, Storm, but can I ask why you haven’t just told her what she is to you? Your bite would be of more help than anything I have here.”
Storm growled and paced the room. He knew his bite would heal the lovely creature that was his mate, but fucking Kingston and his damn rules. But the Dragon had lived longer than any of them. He had suffered losses none of them had ever known. He was the glue that kept their unit together. Storm owed him obedience.
“I am forbidden to claim her until she knows everything.”
“I see,” said Byram, “well, Kingston knows best. I do have some elixir made from evening primrose and devil’s weed which should help slow the venom until you get that all sorted.”
“Are you sure it will help?” Storm’s worry increased and he zeroed in on the man.
“You needn’t search me for deception, Storm, I would never hurt what is yours,” Byram spoke calmly, but Storm could feel his hurt.
Shit. He didn’t mean that. Storm knew his words were truth, but he was out of sorts when it came to Fergie. Did having a mate make all men mad? Probably. But it was worth it or so he’d been told.
“She is special, Byram. I can’t explain it exactly, but she brings new meaning to me and my Wolf.”
“I understand, brother,” Byram said, “let’s get this to her.
The sounds of feet running and a squealed scream met Storm’s ears and he hurried to open the door.
“What the hell is going on here?” came a roar he knew to be Kingston’s followed by a thud.
By the time Storm rounded the bend he saw two things, Furio splayed on the floor with his head in his hands and his little mate wielding the baseball bat he’d had hanging on his wall signed by Don Mattingly in 1985 when he’d received the American League award for MVP. That was a fun year for baseball if he recalled correctly.
Of course, that had nothing to do with why his mate was currently barefooted and swinging said bat against his fellow Guardian’s head. Storm grimaced. That was going to leave a mark.
“Oh my God! Why’d you sneak up on me like that?” raged Fergie at the Horse Shifter who seemed dazed.
And no wonder, thought Storm as he took in the lump forming on his forehead. His gaze shifted to his mate’s and he frowned. Her color did not look good.
She swayed a little bit on her feet and closed her eyes. Storm ran to her side. He took the bat from her fingers, supporting her frame while she clung to him.
“What happened?”
“Oh, thank God!” she gripped his arm tightly and he could see she was looking a little peaked.
“Byram, can you help Furio?”
“On it,” the Vampire said, and sounded as if he was fighting his own laughter as well.
“Come on, sweet,” he bent and scooped her in his arms, taking the bat from her hands as he did so.
“Really, I’m too heavy for you to keep picking me up like this,” she swallowed after she finished speaking.
Storm frowned. He knew she was feeling dizzy again. The effects of the venom were getting worse. He needed to do something, but first he had to set the record straight.
“You are not too heavy,” he stated. In fact, he rather liked the feel of her slight weight in his arms. She was perfect for him. The Fates had designed her so and he was more than grateful.
“I, uh, think I need to lie down,” her mouth was close to his as she spoke.
So close he couldn’t resist brushing against her lips with his.
Mine, his Wolf growled.
Chapter 6
Fergie damn near swooned as he brushed a perfectly gentlemanly kiss on her mouth and set her back down on the bed in his room. How did that happen?
His hot blue gaze travelled down her body and she followed, noting with horror her skirt was basically gone. She squeaked and let go of his neck, both hands worked hard to try to hold the torn sides of the long khaki confection together.
Well, dang. She was down a pair of heels and a skirt. Was someone trying to tell her something about her fashion choices or what? The big man snorted and she looked up which had him clearing his throat to cover the sound.
Great. The smart maxi-skirt had once had a small slit that ended with a rather cute red-threaded heart sewn just under her knee, but it was now torn all the way up to her underwear line. Embarrassment rushed through her, heating her cheeks again. She could only imagine what was going through Hudson’s brain.
First, she attacked his buddy with a baseball bat, then she was half-naked in his bed. Again. He definitely thought she was nuts, and that wasn’t the worst thing he could imagine in her opinion.
OMG. What if he thought she was trying to seduce him? Panicked eyes found his and she sucked in a breath.
Fat chance of that, Fergie. Look at the man. Hudson Stormwolfe was ridiculously hot, and from the many luxurious items decorating his extra-large bedroom, he was loaded.
Doubly blessed, gorgeous and rich, not to mention one hell of an MMA fighter. The man was unlike anyone she’d ever met. Way out of her league. In fact, Fergie was positive he wasn’t lacking in the female companionship department. And didn’t that thought just make her sick.
Ugh. She squirmed on the bed. There was just too much of Fergie on display for her own comfort. She was out of sorts and in pain from her ordeal. Bloody, bruised, and not to mention, horny. It was nuts. She felt an insane amount of attraction for the man and he was little more than a stranger.
Not true, a voice inside her seemed to say. It was the same voice that encouraged her to eat that second helping of dessert on a regular basis or to switch jobs on a whim. She really needed to start ignoring that asshole voice.
“Are you alright?” his deeply masculine voice broke through her rambling thoughts and she exhaled.
“Yep, peachy,” she snorted.
Shit. Every time she moved the fabric seemed to get further apart revealing more of her ultra-chubby thighs. She cringed, pushing that negative thought from her mind.
How long had she worked on developing a positive self-image? Too long for her to start that crap now. That was it. She was giving up.
“Excuse me,” Fergie let go of the skirt and looked at him hoping he would get the hint and back up so she could stand. No such luck, as it turned out.
“There’s no rush for you to leave,” Hudson began.
Was it her imagination or did he move closer? She couldn’t stop looking at his face. Strong jawline, straight nose, plump, kissable lips.
Ahem, knock it off, she scolded herself. If she didn’t stop it soon, she was going to jump him. But Fergie wasn’t sure her fragile mind could take rejection. She was better off playing it safe and leaving before she made an ass of herself.
“I’d like to make sure you’re a hundred percent alright first,” he continued.
“Your doctor friend said I just needed to heal and you said it yourself, I’m not bruised anywhere else as far as either of us can see,” her response was low and breathy. It didn’t sound like her at all.
“Except for your shoes,” he replied, and there was that sinfully seductive grin again.
The one that made Fergie want to just sit there and stare at him for the next thousand years or so. When the hell had she ever been so corny about a man? She wondered. Probably never. But Hudson Stormwolfe was unlike any other man she’d ever met. He called to something inside her, not just her body, she realized, but to her heart and soul. Uh oh. She must be delirious.