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Could he deny her that? He knew what the cold felt like, that feeling that there was nothing to warm him, that the loneliness had dug its way so deep inside him that he would never know what true warmth was.
Yet she had warmed him.
He realized that. Something frozen inside him had been warmed the moment he glimpsed her, and right now, holding her just like this, there wasn’t even the slightest chill inside him or outside of him.
He wouldn’t deny her that, when she had given it to him.
He held her, let her slip into sleep, then pushed the forgotten laptop to the corner of the headboard before jerking the comforter around them and easing beside her.
She moaned at the loss, but only until he wrapped himself around her. He surrounded her with his arms, embraced her legs with his and let her head tuck against his neck, the feel of her breath against him there comforting.
And he felt the need for sleep himself. Just a nap. Just something to restore his sense of balance. Because somehow, somewhere, Ria had shaken his life up as nothing else ever had.
The animal watched from eyes that were wary of detection. It forced the sleeping man’s eyes open, looked around and saw only the darkness of the room where they slept.
It looked down and saw the woman. Into its ragged, pain-ravaged soul it felt the first sliver of peace arise. That little bit of light that gave it hope.
The woman had made the man’s control weak, made him less diligent, less suspicious when the animal came to awareness.
The man’s emotions were finally breaking free, and with that, the animal could feel freedom just at the edges of its mind.
How tired it was. How it hurt, locked so deep within the man’s mind that its captivity was like hell filled with its own roars.
Sweet Ria. The man thought of her as Sweet Ria. The animal saw more. So much more. As the man slept, it stretched out slowly and touched her hair. Emotion clenched its weary mind, gave it strength. She gave the man and the animal strength.
Her hair was soft, so soft. The animal let itself experience the feel of it through the man’s hand. The man slept deeply wrapped around her, but still the animal moved cautiously, so cautiously. It couldn’t allow this woman to escape it. The man believed she would try to leave. He was preparing himself for it. The ani
mal refused to allow it.
The mark the man had made on her shoulder was just below the man’s mouth. Slowly, edging closer, the animal let its power seep into the man. Just a little bit. Just enough.
Seconds later, the animal rumbled its soft purr as the man licked at that wound. The taste of primal hunger filled the man’s mouth, the animal’s being. Its tongue felt thick, aching. He lapped at the woman’s shoulder, probed at the tiny wounds that sharp canines had made and spilled itself inside her body.
Not enough, just a bit. The taste of her was true warmth. The ice encasing the animal weakened, and as it licked at the soft flesh of her shoulder, it was as though that warmth sparked its strength.
Strength. It could be free now. It could struggle free of the bonds holding it, but if it did, if it moved too quickly, the man would fight.
The animal stepped back, aching, but stronger. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t strong enough for the battle the man might wage. And the man was ever diligent. Even now he was struggling past sleep, aware that something was different. That something moved inside him.
The animal hid in the cold darkness, the warmth of the woman so close. Its eyes closed. It forced itself to sleep. Because the woman was so close. And still, the animal was so weak . . . And danger was approaching.
Mercury came awake quickly. For a moment, he felt something he hadn’t felt inside himself for so many years that at first, he simply didn’t recognize it. That surge of feral adrenaline, rage tearing a hole through his mind as his claws flexed, but gentle, very gently because the soft flesh beneath them belonged to Ria.
And he didn’t dare move. Not yet.
The shadows were slipping past the door. There was no scent. Not the scent of human or the scent of Breed. There was the scent of clothing, of danger.
A silent snarl tugged at his lips; rage pumped through his system. He didn’t stop to think about feral displacement or the animal instincts suddenly rising to the fore.
He could smell the weapons they carried; that was enough for him. He could taste the danger surrounding the shadows stealing through the night.
He tracked them, his night vision no longer clouded as it usually was, but still it wasn’t perfect. Not quite as clear as it had been before the feral displacement. He couldn’t make out their faces, but he could track their bodies, watch them move.
They paused as they entered the room. The taller, broader form motioned the other to the side of the bed and indicated he would round it.
Not likely. If they separated, taking them down would be harder. Just another second.
He waited, muscles bunching, and then with a snarl of rage he was out of the bed.
