Page 14 of Bloodween

His hands moved from his sides, slipping to my waist. Uncertain at first. Then firmer. “Not with you,” he said, his voice dropping into a hushed tone of want. And his hands? They were gripping my ass; I didn’t mind it.

“No?” I cocked my head to the side. “Then what’s the point of having this conversation again? If you want to go back to reality, let’s go. I won’t beg you.”

He didn’t move.

Of course he didn’t.

Varek wouldn’t let him. I saw it in his eyes—the gold bleeding through the brown. He looked at me like a man who’d found something rare and wanted to ruin it just to see how it broke. Unfortunately that wouldn’t be me, but I’d let his wolf think he was the predator.

He leaned in, his fro brushing my cheek, his nose grazing the column of my throat like he’d been starved on purpose. He inhaled and kissed the spot he’d claimed with his breath.

A shiver arrowed down my spine.

Traitorous body. Noted.

His hands moved back up, fingers digging into my waist. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

“Yes,” I said, and heat pooled between my legs at his submission. “I’m very sure.”

“You’ll see me in human form, but it’s him. It’s him who wants you, who’s taking you. He won’t stop until he’s had his full. Do you understand that, Armisha? Do you consent to that?”

I did. But why in the hell was I standing here—in the name of my bloodline—asking to be devoured?

Oh yeah. For power. For recognition.

“Yes,” I hummed. “I like a man who’s insatiable, and I want everything both of you have to give.”

The sound he made lived somewhere between a growl and a prayer.

Then he kissed me. Hard. Desperate. Hungry. Yearning.

The kind of kiss that tasted like he’d definitely be the one to want more.

Too bad.

I kissed him back, phone slipping out of my hand as I threaded my fingers through his coily hair, drawing him closer, feeling my soul surge with victory. Finally.

Hook.

Line.

Sinker.

Right now, I might’ve been signing up for one hell of a sex session.

But by morning, he’d be dead.

And I’d be unstoppable.

the bond

"HE WASN'T THE BIG BAD WOLF. I WAS."

The rhythm of his mouth hardened, growing impatient, pulling harder. I felt it in the way his body pressed closer, in the sound that came from his throat—half-growl, half-need.

I didn’t fight it. I matched it.

My hands found his shoulders, then the back of his neck. He answered with fingers tracing my spine, with pressure that said stay right here. Every movement drew me tighter, until there was no space left for sense.