I tilt the cup back and drain the last of the
amber liquid. Everything is hazy—the voices, my
fears, what I’m about to do now.
“Do you want anything? Would you be more
comfortable with candlelight?” His voice sounds
rather shy, and he’s blushing.
Maybe he’s not that different from me after all.
Maybe under all his bravado, he’s lonely and
hurting like I am.
Although I’ve read some romance novels, I know
more about sexual dysfunctions and diseases from
my nursing textbooks than about how to please a
man, and the little I’ve learned makes me feel more
intimidated than confident.
So what am I supposed to do first?
Ssstrip.
Unbuttoning my shirt slowly, I paste one of
Cyndi’s coy smiles on my face and step toward him
seductively. He’s already hard beneath my hand
when I grab him. It’s smooth and warm, and a little
thrill runs up my arm. I wasn’t expecting to like the
hardness of him.
“You’re so big.” Guys like to hear that, right? All
the heroines say that in romance novels.
He grabs my wrist and, digging his fingers into
my arm, yanks my hand away. “Don’t be fake. Or
the deal’s off.”
“I thought this was what you wanted.”
“I want the real thing. Or I could just get any
whore off the street.” He bares his teeth at me. His
fingers dig deeper into my arm, and I wince.
“Okay,” I say. “You’re hurting me.”
He lets go. “Don’t toy with me.”
“Fine.” I rub my arm. “I need to go to the
bathroom. To freshen up.”
“In there.” He points to a door.
Inside, I stand in front of the sink. The mirror is
gone, leaving a metal frame through which I can
see the toothbrush and other toiletries inside. I
turn on the water and wash my hands.
“If you want me to do this, you must go away,” I
whisper to the voices in my head.
No.
“He wants real, and you interfere with that. I
can’t do this with you in my head. Go away, and I
promise to do this right.”
We don’t trust you.
“You’ll have to.”
You fail us, and we’ll punish you.
“Fine.”
And then blessed silence. For a long moment, I
wait, breathing in and out, enjoying being alone in
my own head, before I finally open my eyes.
I unbraid my hair and comb it out with my
fingers, letting it fall down to my waist. Stripping
down to my panties, I look down at myself. I have
nice-sized breasts, and my stomach is flat, my waist
is tiny, but I have full hips and nice curves. I’m
skinny, but I have sexy, lean muscle.
I wash my face and dry it on one of his towels. It
smells like him, rough and wild. I like that smell. I
like his eyes—the way he studies me, the depth of
sadness in them, like he’s known great sorrow.
If I’m going to do this, I’ve got to be real. I have
to be me. No pretending to be Emma or Cyndi. No
copying the girls in the romance novels.
Opening the door, I step out of the bathroom,
naked. This is me. The real me. My soul is naked of
all the things I use to hide behind.
He’s sitting in a chair, his arms thrown over the
sides. His amber eyes study me, taking in every
naked inch of my flesh. He doesn’t smile, but I like
the way he watches.
“I’m not very good. I don’t know if I’m worth the
three thousand I owe you.” My face burns and I
look away from him. “But if you tell me what you
want, I’ll do it for you.”
Without a word, he rises and steps toward me.
He comes so close our bodies are almost touching,
and he reaches out and loops a strand of my hair
around his finger. “How about we start with me
doing what you want. We have all day, after all.”
“I like kisses.” I stand on tip toe and kiss the
bottom of his chin. The bristle along his jaw
brushes against my lips, and a pleasant tingle
spreads softly through me.
He leans down and kisses me, his lips soft as if
he savors the taste. He trails the kiss down my
neck, his fingertips coming to rest lightly on my
waist. Each kiss melts into me like starlight dancing
on my skin. I can barely breathe.
He scoops me up, my legs circling his waist, and
he carries me to the bedroom.
Chapter 22
~ HUNTER ~
What have I done? Sammi, forgive me.
The smell of sex hangs in the air like an
accusation.
The bed is a mess, her blood smeared on the
sheets. Shit, she was a virgin. How could I have not
realized that? I should’ve noticed there was no
smell of another male on her.
Condoms in the trash can. One broke and I pray
she’s not pregnant. She was fertile; I could smell it
… I rake my hands through my hair.
What have I done?
But if I could do it all over again, I would.
I sit on the side of my bed, watching her sleep,
her golden hair fanning out across the dark pillow,
the sheet only partially covering her. I loved how
those silky tresses and fallen over my face as she
lay on top of me, as she rained kisses down over my
face, chest … I want to reach out and touch her
again. Pull her to me. Kiss her. Take her. Mine.
Every inch of her body has burned itself into my
soul. I snort with self-derision—wolves and hawks
both mate for life. That would be why this was such
a bad idea.
But she’s not mine. I can’t really have her.
If the Usurper got a hold of her like he did
Sammi …
No, I will move heaven and hell to make sure
that doesn’t happen. Not again. Never again.
I take the charm from around my neck and tuck
it into the back of my dresser drawer. Fur ripples
across my skin as a shudder runs through me.
Flexing my wings, I sigh, relaxed, and go into the
kitchen, my taloned feet clicking on the tile floor.
Shit, this place is a mess.
If Sammi could see me now, she’d be shaking
her head in disgust. What have I done to myself?
Running the hot water, I fill the sink and drop in
the last of the soap. Time to start cleaning up my
life. I don’t own a lot of dishes—there’s only me
and I left all our belongings in our small cabin. So in
fifteen minutes, the dishes are cleaned, dried, and
put back into the cupboards.
The real mess is all the bottles and beer cans. I
grab the recycle bin and start tossing everything in.
When it fills up, I grab a trash bag, and then
another trash bag. The kitchen and counters clean,
the recycle bin and five trash bags in the bed of my
truck, ready to go to the recycling center, the old
couch out by the curb for the trash
truck to pick
up—my apartment smells almost good, crisply
clean and fresh. I feel as if the Creator has given me
a new chance at life.
A phone rings—not my phone—as I’m piling the
full bottles of beer and whiskey on the counter to
dump down the sink. The girl—and I realize I don’t
even know her name—shambles out of the
bedroom wrapped in nothing but my blanket. Her
long blonde hair is mussed, and she smells of me.
When she sees me, her face flushes, and she
smiles faintly before fetching her pink phone out of
the purse she left by her coat.
“Hello?”
A pause. Her smell changes—embarrassment,
desire, shame, and a tinge of guilt—and the sudden
stench of reptiles and wizard magic clings to her
like a misty cloud. She turns her back to me, and I
feel cut off. I’m not a part of her life, just a one-
night stand.
“Yes, Jason. Of course I remember,” she says
into the phone.
Pause.
“Don’t worry; I won’t tell her you’re coming.”
Pause.
“Sure. See you tomorrow. Bye.”
She turns to see me watching her, and her gaze
falls to the floor, unwilling to look me in the eye.
“What time is it?”
I glance out the window at the moon. “Still dark
out. Should be about eight. Sun rise in less than an
hour.”
“I have to go. I have to get back to school, a
paper to write. Tomorrow morning, Valentine’s
Day, right? In the alley where I first met you.”
I open my mouth to speak, but my voice refuses
to work. Clearing my throat, I say huskily, “Yes.
Tomorrow.”
She goes back into the room, and I wait, pinned
to my spot in the kitchen, waiting for her to
reappear. How do I say goodbye to her? How can I
make her stay?
Shit. What am I thinking? I can’t keep her. I’d be
putting her in danger.
Now dressed, she comes back out wearing the
clothes she had on yesterday and grabs her coat.
Her glossy, long hair is mussed, which I like even
better than her normally sleek hairdo, and the
corners of her mouth lift up with contentment.
“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll call a
cab.” She pauses in the doorway and gives me a shy
smile. “Thanks. I’ll never forget.” And she’s gone,
leaving behind the sweet smell of sex and the
cloying stench of reptiles and magic.
The bang of the door rings hollowly like a casket
being shut. Instead of dumping the whiskey, I take
a swig directly from the bottle. One last drink to
take the edge off.
Then I’ll dump the rest. Tomorrow.
Chapter 23
~ ANGELINA ~
Valentine’s day, and I’m dressed cute as a kitten
for the occasion. My blonde hair, long with curls
everywhere, is pulled back with a red hair band to
match my flouncy skirt. Pink sweater with a silver
lace underneath and the sweetest tights with cute
little hearts.
All this just to hide my brokenness.
Everybody hates you.
After what I did last night, I feel empty and sore.
My breasts hurt, and that place between my legs
burns. It felt like he ripped me open and poured
himself into me.
But then that is what he did.
I blush, thinking of his gentle hands on my skin.
His warm kisses, his body over mine. Guilt worms
through me. Not only did I cheat on my love for
Jason, I enjoyed it.
Standing beside me: Jason. Yummy. Sweet.
Devilish smile. Everything I ever wanted.
His smile lights up the drab hall of the campus
apartments, all of Anchorage, and my dark and
weary soul.
But his sweet smile is for her.
And my thoughts still stray to another man with
amber eyes and silver white hair to his shoulders.
What’s wrong with me?
Jason knocks on the door, his grin spreading
wide across his face, and my heart shatters into a
million pieces, a broken mess at the bottom of a
chasm.
“Good morning, Emma!” I force the chipper
tone and then sing Happy Birthday.
She opens the door, standing before us in
panties and a t-shirt, ugly wool socks up to her
knees, her hand on her hip, and Jason’s mouth
hangs open while drool dribbles down his chin.
Emma’s brows are wide with surprise, and she
quickly ducks her bottom half behind the door.
“Jason, what are you doing here?”
“To take you out for the day. It’s your twenty-
first birthday. Did you think I’d let you celebrate
without me?” He slips inside and looks her up and
down.
I’m going to be sick.
Grabbing my hand and dragging me inside,
Emma pins him with one of her stares. “What
about what’s-her-name? Sarah? Sally? Mandy?
Whoever your latest thrall is. She really let you
come out and play? I thought she’d have your
Valentine’s Day booked.”
“I broke up with her right after Christmas.” He
shrugs.
I hate feeling like the little kid again. The
unwanted tag-along. Tucking my hand through his
arm, I smile up at him. “Isn’t he sweet? You have
the best friends, Emma.”
His return smile is tolerant. Not kind or gentle.
Just tolerant, as if I’m an annoying fly buzzing by his
ear.
I deserve more.
I want to crawl back into my bed, go to sleep,
They’re talking, but I can’t hear them over the
buzzing growing louder in my ears. The voices
whisper something. I strain to listen, but all I can
decipher is one word.
Tessst. Tessst. Tessst.
Jason glances at me, his brow furrowed. Does he
hear the voices too?
But then the voices stop abruptly.
“Remember when you took me spelunking?”
Emma says.
Jason grins. “I had no idea that bear was in
there.”
“I can’t remember ever being that scared.”
“But it was fun! Come on. We can’t break
tradition.”
“What are you planning this time?” I give him
my most endearing smile.
“It’s a secret.” He takes a step away from me,
and my hand falls back to my side.
You’re nobody.
He doesssn’t want you.
You desssserve—
Emma gives me a sharp look, and the voices cut
off. Blessed silence.
I force a smile. “See you! Tell me all about it
later. Emma, I’ll tell your professors and coach that
you are sick today, and I’ll collect your notes and
assignments.”
“Thanks, Angelina. You’re a sweetie.”
I blow them kisses and rush out the door.
A part of me doesn’t really care anymore. I just
want this to be ov
er.
This is what you always wanted. You want this.
You will obey us.
Desire ripples through me, stirring in my gut,
filling every cell of my body. I crave for Jason to
hold me and love me the way Hunter did yesterday.
After today, I won’t ever be the outsider again.
Tomorrow, he will forget her. He will look at me
with that much longing.
I will dessstroy Emma.
I dessserve his kisses.
My nerves rattle around inside me as I wait for
Hunter. I’m not sure what I’m going to say to him
or how I’m supposed to act now that we … I blush,
remembering his hands in places no man has ever
touched.
But I don’t even know his real name, and I’m not
sure I can call him a man. He’s an animal, and sex
with animals is obscene. Does it count if he looked
human?
He lands in front of me with a soft swooft, the
wind from his wings brushing against my cheeks. I
wonder what it would be like to have those wings
fold around me, protect me in their embrace.
“You ready?” Not one ounce of warmth in his
voice, and a part of my heart withers and dies.
What was I expecting? To him, I’m nothing more
than a whore, paying him for a service.
I nod, keeping my head down, too shy to look
him in the eyes.
“Good. Then let’s move.” He scoops me up and
leaps into the air in one motion, his wings
drumming against the air like a heartbeat. The city
grows small beneath us, buildings looking like toy
houses and people nothing more than ants
scurrying over the earth. Up high into the clouds,
we fly where no one can see us.
Now I can see nothing but gray fog, feel nothing
except the bitter wind burning my face.
“Turn toward me.” His hot breath burns against
my cheek, his teeth only inches from my skin.
I bury my face in the soft fur of his chest. He
smells like wild spices on a spring breeze. His heart
beats wildly against my cheek; his muscles ripple as
he grips me tighter.
I’m supposed to be in love with Jason. What’s
wrong with me?
Jassson. Tessst.
But the voices are so far away, I can barely hear
them over the beating of Hunter’s heart. Here I feel
safe.
“Are you a werewolf?” I ask, but the wind
snatches my voice away.
“What did you say?” His voice is deep and