“I’ve got this crazy need to kiss you, Zee. Am I risking life and a limb if I try?” Duke’s eyes, so dark brown they appeared black, held hers.
“No.” She licked her lips and hoped he’d kiss her, hoped he’d touch her, even as she hoped he’d never notice how foreign all of this was to her.
He reached up and cradled her cheek in his hand and then his mouth was on hers. Soft at first, his tongue tracing the curve of her lower lip before seeking entrance to her mouth.
This... kissing... this, she remembered. A hungry noise escaped and she eased closer—or tried to. Duke stood next to the stool where she was perched, making her position awkward. But then he moved closer, and in what felt like a completely natural response, she parted her jean-clad thighs and he stepped between them, deepening the kiss.
She pulled away to gasp for breath—and maybe ask if he’d come upstairs to the apartment where she lived.
But he was already kissing her again, with more focus and determination this time.
She moaned and reached up, cupping the back of his head, the short, raspy feel of his hair abrading her palm.
“Son of a—fuck, Donner!”
A scent hit her—holly, cedar, birch... and fur and wildness and sweet mountain air.
Pack... except, no. It wasn’t pack. Not anymore—pain spliced through her heart, tearing and clawing. It all happened in microseconds while she clung to Duke and then she wasn’t even touching him.
The big, strong military man was stumbling back into a wooden table, but he moved fluidly with the movement, eyes going sharp as he instinctively recognized a threat. He drew a knife from his boot—as an officer with one of the military branches, he’d be authorized to carry any number of weapons, and he moved fast.
But not fast enough. Panic clawed at her and she swiped out, emptying the drink and smashing the glass. She wasn’t military trained, nor a part of a lethal pack, but she was no pushover either. No meek thing to be thrown around and abused—not again. Not anymore.
Then it didn’t matter, because Donner was there, slamming a fist into the Therian wolf who’d entered the bar and seen her being kissed by a man who wasn’t the Prime who had laid claim on her years before.
It didn’t matter that he’d never actually followed through.
Therians understood and respected their own customs and laws before anything else. And to them, Zennia Day belonged to Nikolai Whelan, the Prime of Appalachia, a man who lived hundreds of miles and several states away, the man who’d once promised he’d love and care for her always, and then told her to get the fuck out of Appalachia.
And stay out, Zennia. You’re not welcome here.
Chapter Two
“Niko!”
The woman beneath him, curvy and strong with deep brown hair and hints of red that wasn’t quite right, wrenched at his wrists, trying to break free as he drove into her. Her eyes were more hazel than green, but the resemblance was close enough that when the need hit this strong, he could pretend.
Almost.
The primal part of him knew her scent wasn’t the one he still craved. It knew her voice wasn’t the seductive, honeyed huskiness that had intrigued him from the first time he heard it.
But the driving sexual need didn’t care.
It drove him to fuck. Alison Leighton, his on-and-off-again lover for the past five years, was more than happy to indulge him. He knew from experience though, that if she touched him, it would shatter the thin illusion he weakly allowed himself and the rage would spill over him yet again.
Not that he’d hurt Alison, or any other woman, but if the rage took hold, it would fan the sexual hunger, the driving need to hunt down the woman who’d lied to him, used him, betrayed him and take everything she’d once offered.
Cock rigid and pulsating, he remained braced over Alison, his weight on his elbow, even when she arched up and ran her lips imploringly along his jaw.
He’d never kissed another, not in ten years.
He had no desire to do it again, to have the taste of a woman on his lips. And the animal within wouldn’t allow it. It let him slake the sexual hunger, but deeper intimacies weren’t allowed.
Ever.
Beneath him, Alison shuddered, her orgasm breaking over her and tearing a snarling sort of whimper from her throat, while her greenish-hazel eyes—not the right eyes—began to glow with the eerie yellow that marked her as a Therian bobcat.
And still, he couldn’t find surcease.
Withdrawing, despite her pleading with him not to, he flipped her onto her hands and knees and pulled her up, gripping her hips.
She broke around him again as he thrust into her from behind, filling her with hard, deep lunges.
This way, he wasn’t looking at her face.
This way, the animal within didn’t have to face the woman who wasn’t his own as both man and beast slaked their hunger.
And finally, he came.
His breathing returned to normal in under a minute, heartrate within two, while Alison shuddered and moaned, curling against him as he moved to sit on the side of the bed.
“Will you stay?” she asked in a throaty murmur, stroking one hand down his back.
“No,” he said coolly. “Why do you keep asking?”
“Because... ” She sat up and pressed her lips to his shoulder. “Sooner or later, you’ll let her go and I’m going to be here waiting.”
She went to nip at his shoulder but just as her teeth scraped over his skin, he moved, turning to catch her jaw in his hand. “You’re overstepping your bounds. This is sex, nothing more. That’s all it will ever be.”
Her lashes lowered and he felt a punch of regret. Alison was a kind, sweet woman and she didn’t deserve the sharp edge of his anger, not for simply wanting something he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—give.
“So you’re going to punish both you and Zee until your last breath?” she said in a surprising challenge.
Snorting, Niko let go of her and rose. “I’ve asked you not to mention that name. But... no, I’m not punishing us both. For her to suffer, she’d have to care.”
It was no secret what had happened, although normally, Niko didn’t speak of the matter of him and the green-eyed witch who’d lied to him, crushing his heart and shattering it into pieces in the process.
“... Niko... ”
It came out in a hushed whisper, one so strained both Niko and the beasts within went preternaturally still, sensing the trepidation and fear of a packmate far less dominant.
Slowly, he turned and faced Alison. She’d curled up against the headboard and now clutched the blankets to her chest in a troubling display of vulnerability.
“What is it, Alison?” he asked, gentling his voice.
“Zee, she... She hasn’t... ”
Just the name made the anger soar but he clamped it down.
Not enough though. Alison was as much Therian as he and she sensed the raging beast. Dipping her head, she shuddered.
“Alison—”
His phone rang, the sharp, discordant tone programmed to alert him to a pack emergency. Alison’s did the same, not even a split second later.
“We’ll finish this discussion later.” Answering the phone, his jaw aching from the tension, he snapped, “What?”