Embracing the Wolf (2 page)

“
I promise you,
Kat, he will not know that you are there. Just see him and then
make up your mind. The next time you meet, do whatever your heart
decides. Save him or kill him.”

“
Perhaps
killing him would be saving him,” she muttered to her feet and
focussed on the bloodied grass. He wouldn’t know she was there? She
could see him, could reassure herself and ease her fears, and he
would never know she had been there. The temptation was almost
overwhelming.

Silence stretched into
minutes as she waged an internal war—her heart against her mind.
She ached to see Amon, but the price was too high. If she went, she
might not be able to contain the beast within. If she didn’t go,
the next time she saw Amon he might be her target. A vision of Amon
lying dead at her feet as the werewolf had been tonight flashed
across her eyes. Her heart won.

“
He won’t know
I’m there?” Kat looked at Leyton and searched his face for the
truth behind his answer. The craving was too strong to ignore but
she had to be sure that Amon wouldn’t sense her. Once she had seen
him again, she would make a final decision just as Leyton had
asked.

“
I promise you
that he won’t.”

Those words weren’t a
comfort. Would Amon not know that she was there because he was so
far gone already, so close to the edge? Werewolves became deranged
violent creatures when the beast took over. Their bloodlust
nightmarish. She had seen them tear humans apart for fun or nothing
more than sating their aggression.

She hesitated a moment,
still not sure this was a wise idea, and then pointed towards the
cemetery gates. “Lead the way.”

Leyton took her to an area
deep in the city outskirts and far from the residential streets.
Desolate red-brick factory buildings towered over her. Their tall
windows were made of rectangular panes that were either smashed or
coated by an impenetrable layer of grime. Winter wind whistled
through them, a haunting symphony. The moon drained their colour.
There was sadness about this place that left her feeling more
lonely and cold than the cemetery had done.

Kat walked in silence. Her
right hand rested on one of her pistols. The feel of it soothed her
raw nerves. Her steady heart beat a little quicker when Leyton
brought her to the end of a small dark alley. He opened a
door.

Amon was in one of these
dead buildings.

She had thought they were
only passing through this area into one less bleak.

“
We cannot move
him again,” Leyton said in a casual tone, as though he was making
small talk about the weather rather than his alpha.

A glance into his eyes
revealed that there was nothing casual about those words. The pain
in their depths spoke to her heart. They silently begged her to
give Amon a reprieve and accept the beast inside her so she could
be the one to save him from a fate worse than death. Kat turned
away and forced herself to scan the interior of the old factory. A
good hunter knew every entry and exit. If Amon was close to
turning, she might need them. Sometimes it was better to run than
fight.

Leyton led the way. She
followed close behind, memorising the maze of metal walkways above
her and the old dust covered machinery. They entered a bright
white-washed and distinctly clinical-looking room, leaving the
darkness and grime behind. The lights stung her eyes. They had to
hurt Leyton’s too. Her fingers flexed around her gun when she
sensed movement. They weren’t alone.

Three huge male werewolves
in human form stood before her. In large hands made for killing,
each gripped a black rifle that looked like the type used for
tranquilising wild animals. The males stepped forwards, their broad
black-clad bodies a dark menacing contrast to the white
room.

They didn’t bother
her.

What they protected
did.

The werewolves partially
blocked her view, but she could see enough to make her ache with
sorrow.

A steel cage stood in the
middle of the room. Its bars were as thick as her wrists. Inch deep
glass surrounded it on all sides. Nothing but the cage reflected on
the far wall of the glass. It was mirrored. They had surrounded him
with mirrors and steel.

Kat glanced at Leyton. He
had been right. Amon wouldn’t see her.

“
It is
sound-proofed,” Leyton said in a voice at normal volume, as though
to prove the fact.

Her gaze settled on the
cage.

Amon would never know that
she had been here for him, with him. Her eyebrows furrowed and she
stepped through the group of four werewolves, not paying them any
heed. Immense sadness seized her heart.

Amon paced back and forth
across the small width of his prison. Shirtless and shoeless, he
wore nothing but black jeans. He looked exactly as she remembered
him but she sensed a difference. A longing to free him warred with
a desire to flee again. She stood still, frozen to the spot by
indecision and a need to witness what she had done to the man that
she had once loved.

Still loved.

“
It’s a
necessary precaution,” Leyton said close beside her. She looked up
into his eyes, silently asking him if he honestly believed that and
if he was alright with it. He looked away, at Amon. “He no longer
trusts himself.”

Her gaze returned to Amon,
drawn by the waves of pain that emanated from him, both physical
and emotional.

“
Leave us,”
Leyton said and heavy boots marched into the distance. The guards
were gone.

Kat walked forwards, until
she was within a metre of the cubicle. Her gaze followed Amon, back
and forth, back and forth, relentless in his pacing. Tears trembled
on the brink of falling as she remembered all the times that she
had spent with him.

The handsome smile and
twinkling eyes full of love that she recalled were gone. The set of
his face was grim now, eyebrows knitted into a constant frown. His
black hair had grown wild, hanging to his jaw in tangled threads.
The hard muscles of his broad chest were covered in claw
marks.

Had he been tearing at
himself? It pained her to see him, to sense him so close but so far
away. Her hand trembled where it still held her holstered gun. Her
other rose shakily towards the glass.

“
Amon,” she
whispered, quiet enough that Leyton wouldn’t hear her. Amon turned
and raised his head, but didn’t look at her.

Her heart broke to see his
beautiful dark eyes and bowed lips. There was nothing soft or
tender about them now. His eyes held pain. His lips were compressed
into a thin line of restraint.

“
Are you
alright?” Leyton said in a low voice. It wasn’t so Amon wouldn’t
hear them. Leyton was worried about her now too.

“
I never knew
he was in such a state,” she whispered and glanced at Leyton before
her eyes darted back to Amon.

She pressed her hand
against the glass, wishing that she could touch him, wishing that
she were brave enough to let him know that she was here.

Amon stopped in the middle
of the cage. Suddenly, he arched his back, threw his arms out by
his sides, tensed and shaking, and howled at the roof.

Her heart jumped and
pounded in response to the intense vulnerability in his howl and
his pained expression. The call to her was clear, speaking his need
of her. Something powerful inside her responded.

Panic filled her, a riot
of conflict and fear. She fought her beast as she backed away from
the cage. She couldn’t bear it anymore. Tears stung her eyes. She
ran, shoving Leyton away as he moved into her path. She had been
stupid to come. She had known deep in her heart that if she saw
Amon, she would feel the incredible pull to him that she always
had.

She bolted from the
factory, fleeing him again, and didn’t stop running until she had
reached her apartment. Flinging the door shut behind her, she went
straight to her bathroom and splashed cold water on her face to
mask her tears.

After a moment, she raised
her head and stared at her dripping wet reflection in the mirror on
the cabinet above the sink. The water had erased her tears but had
done nothing to remove the feelings colliding inside
her.

“
Stupid,” she
said to herself, frowning so hard her dark eyebrows almost met.
Redness marred her deep brown eyes, a sign of the tears that she
had washed away.

When she closed her eyes,
the image of Amon pacing the small cage filled her mind. Her heart
clenched all over again. He’d howled with so much pain that she had
felt it.

Amon was close to
turning.

Her gaze fell to her
guns.

She didn’t have much time
to make her decision.

****

Chapter
2

Kat arched off the bed.
Her bare body pressed against the warm hard wall of his. He pushed
down against her hip, his rigid shaft scalding her thigh. Teasing
fingers trailed lightly over her skin, caressing and leaving flames
in their wake that licked at her senses. Shivers of hot needles
swept across her flesh, igniting delight wherever they travelled,
affecting her right down to her marrow.

His fingertips dragged the
fire around her breasts, a path that smouldered long after the
caress had gone, working in circles until they brushed her taut
nipples. Moaning, she thrust her breasts up, eager to feel the
touch again. He took the pert bud between skilled fingertips and
lightly squeezed, sending another tremble of desire through her and
causing her breasts to tighten.

Kat sighed her approval
and then frowned when he moved away, heading lower. Her body begged
for more than the barely-there touch. She needed to feel his
strength and passion. She wanted him to be rough with her, not
torture her with this gentle exploration. Her arm covered her eyes
as hot fingers travelled lower, teasing her stomach and encircling
her navel. She arched into him again, pushing her pelvis against
his, and groaned.

“
Amon,” she
whispered, heated and hungry.

A deep chuckle filled her
ears, making her quiver as she imagined what he would look like.
Leaning over her. His body poised and tensed. The long black
threads of his hair brushing his cheeks. His rich brown eyes intent
on her, his focus wholly on her pleasure.

His touch disappeared,
leaving her cold, and instead of the relief that she had expected,
he increased her torture. His mouth fiercely claimed her right
nipple, rolling the hard bead between his teeth. His hand closed
over her other breast. She tensed and shuddered with need as his
weight bore down on her, pressing her deep into the mattress, and
silently pleaded him to quench her thirst to have him inside
her.

Another moan escaped her
when he moved downwards, worshipping every subtle plane of her body
with the soft velvet stroke of his tongue and lips. Stoking the
fire inside her until it was beyond her control. Desire took the
reins and she writhed against him. She couldn’t take any
more.

Her eyes rolled back in
her head when he licked her hip and then her stomach, moving slowly
towards where she needed him most. Just a little farther. She
groaned and removed her arm from her eyes to scowl at him when he
moved away again, kissing up towards her breasts. Tease.

Her volley of abuse was
lost before it could reach her lips when he grabbed her. Her arms
were above her head before she could say a word. Long fingers
tightly enclosed both of her wrists. Her heart hammered when she
met his eyes. Wicked hunger filled them, black and violent,
commanding. With a half smile, she faked a struggle, wanting to
feel his strength and know that she was at his mercy. He had always
played this way with her, willing to dominate her if she wanted
it.

She wanted it
alright.

Amon growled and tightened
his grip on her wrists until they hurt. Kat surrendered herself to
him as his mouth claimed hers. His tongue delved between her lips,
hot and probing, its sensual glide tearing a moan from her
throat.

Their teeth clashed as he
pushed down against her, trapping her beneath him in the most
delicious way. She relaxed, intoxicated by his sheer primal
strength and his desire for her. He groaned into her mouth, his
tongue brushing every part of it with fierce attention as though
her taste was a drug and he was addicted. No part of her mouth was
left untouched—her teeth, gums, cheeks, everywhere. She stroked his
tongue with hers, savouring his taste as though it might be her
last.

When her tongue traced his
lips, his murmured his approval into her mouth and drew back. She
licked them again, memorising the soft fullness. A new hunger awoke
in her, a desire to change the tempo of this erotic dance. She
wanted to explore every inch of him. She wanted to breathe in the
sensual warm masculine scent of his skin.

She wanted to feel the
changing landscape of his body beneath her lips and tongue,
charting the places where his skin was soft and sensitive. Her body
hummed at the thought of such a long adventure across his, at the
thought of worshipping him as he deserved to be, this epitome of
male beauty and strength.