Page 7 of Lycan’s Hunt

“You can’t get out,” I tell her, and she spins with a growl, like she forgot she wasn’t alone in here.

The ferocity in her eyes dims as she stares at me`, tilting her wolfy head to the side like she is wondering what I am, despite her human side knowing already. Her scent saturates the air potently, growing vastly stronger as she sniffs the air. She stalks me and I start moving backward.

“Easy now, Bree,” I tell her before stumbling over a plant root. A loud gasp escapes me as I hit the floor, landing on my ass. I glare at the fern root protruding from the ground when she suddenly purrs. My eyes snap to her.

“Wait, don’t,” I warn her even as her form shudders and reshapes into something far too human. She stands before me, naked and panting, the moonlight casting a lustrous sheen over her skin. Her chest heaves with each breath, and there’s still that wild, untamed edge to her movements—an animalistic grace.

“Shift back,” I repeat, though it’s unnecessary now. She’s here, in her human form, yet nothing about her is subdued. There’s a rabid gleam in her eye that makes my own instincts rear up in response.

Bree—so vulnerable yet impossibly tempting as I try to hold my breath–her body language screams of need, of a desire so strong it borders on madness. She’s temptation, promising both ecstasy and doom. Her hair is a tangled mess framing her face, lips parted as if waiting for a kiss or a bite, I’m not sure which; however, her teeth are razor sharp, poking beneath her plump lips.

I can’t steal her innocence, not like this, not when she’s driven by a heat that is completely my fault. Then she mauls me, nails digging into my arms, as I fight my instincts. The scent of her overwhelms my senses; it’s intoxicating, maddening.

“Stop,” I manage to choke out again, but it’s half-hearted. Her body slams against mine. “Bree, you don’t want this!” I tell her as her pussy grinds against my hard cock. Warm and wet, I want to sink into her but I grip her hips refusing to take advantage of her while she is like this. Her teeth sink into my shoulder, her tongue lapping at my flesh, and I groan.

My fingers trace her skin, exploring the fevered warmth of her. It’s meant to be comforting, an attempt to soothe the beast within her, yet it only stokes the fire. Each touch is a spark, and she responds with a growl of frustration as she tries to take what she wants when I don’t let her.

Guilt swells within me, dark and bitter. This isn’t her fault; it’s mine. I’ve brought her to this edge, and now I teeter alongside her.

“Forgive me,” I murmur, though the plea is lost amidst her guttural cries. I fear she might hate me once the dawn breaks and clarity returns. For now, I am swept away by the tempest of her heat, and all I can do is hold onto her and hope we survive the night without me fucking her senseless.

The first hints of dawn creep through the glass panes of the observatory, casting a soft glow across her flushed skin. The wildness that had consumed her is now a mere shadow behind her eyes, the heat remains strong and I have no idea how she’ll break it but I know being here isn’t helping her condition.

“Easy, you’re pretty banged up,” I whisper as she stirs beside me, a gentle touch upon her arm to ground her to this calmer reality. She’s no longer rabid, no longer thrashing or growling with an untamed hunger, yet the fire still simmers alongside her heat that refuses to die.

I rise from the floor, muscles protesting the movement, every bruise, scratch and bite mark has healed on me, her not so much. My hands can be seen on her everywhere from holding her tight, fighting her from trying to fuck me. She watches me with heavy-lidded eyes. The vixen she became last night replaced by something softer, vulnerable, yet undeniably potent.

“It should break, I know you’re uncomfortable,” I say, my voice rough like gravel, and I can hear the guilt in my own ears. Bree’s eyes flutter.

“What do you mean?” she yawns, it’s clear she is still not quite awake because she suddenly jerks upright, peering around before glancing down at where she lies on the mossy floor.

“The heat… it should lessen soon.” Usually mates handle a heat but hers isn’t here, and I know she won’t tell me who he is, so I can’t force him here, either.

“Max?” she gasps.

“He’s safe, and inside where I need to be so your heat abates.”

She sighs in relief and nods. Her gaze lingers on me, a silent question in the depths of her eyes, but I can’t stay, not when my presence only makes her heat worse. I move toward the door, knowing the maid unlocked it this morning.

“Wait!” she calls out and I stop. “You don’t have to leave.”

Turning back to face her, I stare at her. “If I stay, I will only make your heat worse.”

She glances away from me, her cheeks flushing. “Maybe you could…”

I stare at her. “You want me to get a doctor? I can try to find one, maybe suppressants will still work?”

She shakes her head. “Or… or you could—” she stops, fumbling over her words, she isn’t usually this nervous.

“What do you need, Bree, I will organize it, I will find…” her eyes turn glassy suddenly and she swallows thickly.

“Right, I… it’s okay, you can go, I get it,” she tells me. Get what? And why does she look like she is gonna cry?

I turn to leave, only to stop again. I’m on the verge of ripping my damn hair out. “So you want the doctor, right?” I ask her.

“Can I just have some clothes?” she asks, suddenly trying to cover herself. Her entire demeanor changing swiftly.

“Now you want clothes?” She nods, and I move toward the door. “I will go get some for you,” I tell her. Yet why do I feel like she was asking for something else?