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Hope sighed and shook her head. “I can understand your reasons. But I can’t countenance your suffering, Anya. There is help available.”
“But it isn’t help I can count on,” she cried out, before capping her hand over her mouth. “God, listen to me. I can’t even debate effectively. I won awards for my ability to debate when I was ten years old, and now I feel like sitting on the floor and sobbing like an infant.”
It had been worse eight months before. A thousand times worse. Ten thousand times. She barely remembered those weeks, the fears driven so deep in her head that she couldn’t escape them. She had sobbed then. Sometimes for hours, holding her hands over her mouth so the doctors and her bodyguards wouldn’t hear her crying out Del-Rey’s name.
And now she nearly had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming for him. She simply wanted him to hold her. Just that if nothing else, to do something to ease the ice inside her.
“I’m a mess, Hope,” she whispered.
“Oh, Anya.” The other woman’s expression twisted in compassion. “You need to talk to him. Your body and your mind know what you need besides the sex. He could help you.”
She shook her head as she forced back her tears and inhaled again, determined to get a handle on this.
“I have it. I’ll be fine.” She wasn’t going to whine to Hope about the relationship that wasn’t a relationship between her and her mate. That was her fault. She had to find a way to fix it.
“Yes, you will be,” Hope said softly. “Tell you what, when you’re feeling more up to it, give me a call. Prima Lyons and I were thinking spring would be a great time for your official ceremony. She’s offered Sanctuary’s grounds for the vows, or Haven’s are available as well. I’d love it if you’d use Haven.”
The ceremony. A wedding. She wondered if Del-Rey was looking for the rings. Of course, he wouldn’t mention it to her if he was. He probably already had the damned things and wasn’t even telling her.
“I would love Haven,” Anya admitted. “And spring sounds wonderful. When Del-Rey finally gets around to mentioning it, I’ll let him know.”
Hope nodded. As she parted her lips to speak, the door pushed inward, leaving Del-Rey standing in the entrance, Wolfe behind him.
Del-Rey’s gaze pinned her, his brows lowering into a frown before he held his hand out to her. “We’re returning to Base,” he told her. “The alphas will reconvene there later tonight to finish the plans that have to be made.”
Because of her. Because her emotions were in such chaos that her mate knew he had to get her back to Base and fuck her. Her face flamed at the awareness that everyone else knew that as well.
“A temporary glitch.” She breathed in deeply as she moved to him. “I’m fine.”
“I know you’re fine,” he stated. “There’s information we have to collect before we can finalize our plans. We’re returning to Base.”
Anya had a terrible feeling he was making excuses, but she couldn’t ignore his outstretched hand. God, she needed the warmth of that much at least.
As he drew her from the room, he gave her more. His arm curved around her shoulders, drawing her to the warmth of his body and pushing back that chill that threatened to shake through her body and leave her trembling in weakness.
Anya kept her head high, her steps measured. Her expression composed. She leaned into him when he pulled her close, and wanted to close her eyes at the warmth that battled against the ice now. She hated herself for needing it. Hated herself for being unable to stand against the need for the pleasure that built like an agonizing fury inside her.
He hadn’t needed a crutch in all these months. He had stood strong, battled against those that would have destroyed the Breeds, and kept his logic and his ability to lead intact.
Yet she couldn’t. How much harder could it be for her than for him? The difference couldn’t be such a wide divide, no matter what the doctors had told her. Male Breeds didn’t allow experiments or tests. And they didn’t take hormones to control that mating heat. How would the doctors know how much worse it was? Breed males were used to incredible pain. Pain a normal man could never survive.
As they stepped into the evening air, a military-enforced limo pulled up to the entrance to the underground bunker. Cavalier, one of Del-Rey’s personal bodyguards, jumped from the passenger side and opened the door as Del-Rey pushed her inside.
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And kept pushing her until she was flat on her back, the door slamming behind them as he came over her.
His lips were on hers immediately, the wicked, heated taste of his kiss infusing her senses, filling her with the hormone that had begun the mating heat to start with.
Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding on tight as her legs parted, allowing him to settle between them. They were fully clothed, but the warmth of his body seeped past the material, worked into her flesh, and she felt the warmth gathering rather than the ice.
She could feel the heat burrowing inside her, making the arousal deeper, stronger, but taking away the pain.
The arousal she could deal with. The aching need for his touch, she could handle that. But the pain, the ice, the confusion—she couldn’t deal with it. The loss of complete control outside his arms? It terrified her.
The loss of control here, she could handle. The way his kiss filled her, stroked pleasure after pleasure across her lips, filled her senses with the feel and the taste of him as she moved against him. She was safe here. She didn’t have to control this.
One hand held her head in place, the other touched her, pushed beneath her sweater, settled on her stomach, and the warmth there, it was incredible. It was like melting.
