Series: Star Moon Pack Series by J.L. Beck
Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 594(@200wpm)___ 475(@250wpm)___ 396(@300wpm)
The halls are as dark and quiet as they were when I left, and it’s with a sigh of relief that I enter my room with the desire to do nothing but fall into bed—after changing the sheets since I’m sure there’s dried blood smeared on them from earlier.
I don’t make it to the bed. I don’t make it more than three steps beyond the door before I smell him. Before I feel him behind me. He clamps a hand over my mouth, and his breath is hot on my neck.
Him. I don’t know his name, but I know it’s him. Just like I know his teeth are grazing my neck, a hair’s breadth away from sinking into my flesh.
“Say a fucking word, and I’ll tear your throat out,” he promises in a low growl, close to my ear. “I want to kill you just as much as I want to fuck you right now, Lili.”
10
WILDE
I don’t know what made me add that last threat about wanting to fuck her. That’s not what I came here to do. And she isn’t mine to take—she’s Forrest’s, even if he did break the bond. I have no business thinking about claiming her.
Yet even though she only had her first shift tonight and was rejected and bullied by her pack before now, I doubt she’s completely clueless when it comes to biology. I’m not too familiar with her pack, but I doubt mating is any more taboo here than back home, where sex is natural and, at times, rampant, free, and casual.
There aren’t many excuses I could offer for the hard-on pressing against her ass. I can’t remember ever being this hard. I want her. Crave her. It would be so easy to claim her here and now, in this dark room that smells like her. I want to make it smell like us.
What the fuck am I doing? I came here with one purpose in mind. Killing her means avoiding war between the packs. I have to remember that. It means being able to unite the way we’re supposed to during this gathering. We need help, or else the necromancers will eventually breach our borders and spread across all our territories before attacking the human cities. Sacrificing one life doesn’t seem like very much when placed up against the lives of countless others. I have my knife at the ready, gripped firmly in my right hand while my left covers her mouth.
I have to use it. I’m going to use it. I came here to use it, damn it, not to fuck her. But the scent of her when she entered the room… It wiped away everything else but hunger, desire, and a deep, primal need to taste her. Every beat of my heart is a plea. Do it. Taste. Feel. Lick. Take.
She hasn’t fought back. I doubt she’s even caught up to what’s happening, too busy panicking, flailing around in her mind for a way out. Her body is stiff against mine, but I doubt it would be stiff for very long if I did what my wolf is demanding. She would melt under my touch—or burst into flames that would consume us both.
Focus! There’s plenty of pussy to partake in around here. Every single unbonded female in her pack looked like they were ready to claw each other to pieces if it meant getting a ride on my cock. I have my pick of any of them. And none of them will end up getting us into a war.
Yet when I point the tip of the knife at her ribs, I can’t bring myself to add the pressure that would send it sliding into her flesh. Like an invisible hand is holding my arm still, one with a lot of strength behind it.
Suddenly, she’s trembling. Almost spasming. She’s not going to shift again, is she? For the first time, the very real possibility of this being a terrible idea filters its way into my mind. I’m as strong as any alpha, powerful, but she’s a brand-new wolf. I’ve already seen what she’s capable of—and that poor bastard she tore to pieces didn’t look like a slouch, even if he was a pathetic piece of shit for beating her as badly as he did. Even if he probably deserved everything he got.
But she hasn’t shifted. And the spasming doesn’t stop—if anything, it gets more intense until she shakes from head to toe.
Finally, it hits me. She isn’t spasming, and she isn’t trembling in fear. She’s laughing.
Who the hell is she? And what the hell is wrong with her, laughing at a time like this?
“You know what I came here to do,” I growl, my lips hovering over her ear.
She nods before a high-pitched squeak emits from behind my hand. Since it doesn’t seem like she’s about to scream, I lift my palm far enough away for her to speak. “The fuck is wrong with you?” I growl, holding up the knife for her to see before returning the tip to her ribcage.