MALCOLM
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The sweet smell of vanilla washes over the room when she walks in.My mate.
My chest tightens when she comes closer with that blasted trolley. Her blonde hair is secured in a tight coil at her nape and like always, I am filled with a desperate desire to see it unbound, tumbling down her slender back.
Her guileless green eyes take me in and she offers a tentative smile. "Hey."
"Release me," I say.
For the past four days, this has been my reply to her greetings. It has become a ritual of sorts, with her giving me an exasperated reply.
But as the days go on, I realize I don't know what exactly I'm asking release from. This god's forsaken place, or the spell she seems to have woven over me.
I crave the sight of her.
My mind is a whirl of depraved thoughts surrounding her hair, her body, her lips--what the red, succulent buds will taste like, what it'd be like when I feed my dick through them.
I should be ashamed.
She is a Hunter.
I almost scoff. My f*cking mate is a Hunter.
I suppose this is the Moon goddess's way of punishing me for what I did all those years ago.
To my earlier statement, she says with a sigh, "I can't do that."
"Why?" I ask, feeling irritation well. "I'm your mate."
Her brows pull down. "I don't even know you! I doubt you even know what my name is."
"I do."
A brow lifts. "What is it then?"
I shrug. "Piper."
A sound escapes her, a mix between amusement and exasperation. "Wrong." She turns away and starts to lay out food from the trolley. In a quieter tone, she says, "It's Gwen."
"Gwen," I repeat slowly, loving the way her name rolls over my tongue. I frown.
The smooth curves of her cheeks redden and soon after the sweet scent of her arousal hits my nose. A low growl escapes me.
She jumps at the sound, eyes snapping to mine.
"I could bring you to release," I say, my voice gone husky. "Hike up your skirt and come sit on my face. You could be riding out your release in seconds with my name on your lips."
A scandalous expression widens her eyes. "Malcolm!"
"Exactly." Then I laugh. The sound is foreign.
It sobers me up. To anyone without eyes, we could be enjoying each other's company. But no, I am chained to a bed while my brother is getting tortured for all I know.
At her embarrassment, I say indifferently, "Indulging in your mate is nothing to be ashamed of. The average number of times werewolves f*ck in a day is ten. Twenty isn't unheard of."
If possible her face reddens the more. Her mouth opens and closes a few times before snapping shut. She straightens and points a ladle in my direction. "Well then, good thing I'm not a werewolf or your mate--"
A growl rips from me, sudden anger tightening my insides.
She goes on, "Hasn't it occurred to you that maybe we've been paired wrongly? That happens, doesn't it? Of course, it does, because it's the only explanation for our pairing. We couldn't be more different. I'm human, you're werewolf--you could outlive me--"
"Not if you're turned into a werewolf."
She halts mid-sentence. "What?"
"I could turn you, make y--"
"And why would you think I want that?? I'm perfectly okay as a human, thank you."
I shrug. "Suit yourself." It won't matter what she is in the long run. Not with what I've planned.
She remains silent for a few seconds, then continues to cut up my toast.
I take in her side profile. Sunlight washes over her slender form, setting her skin aglow. She looks serene, a delectable flush staining her cheeks from our argument. My gaze drops to her pencil skirt and I feel my wolf rise, a familiar sensation seething to life within me. I want her.
No.
I need her.
It is only when my hands are met with resistance that I notice I am straining toward her. I curse and pin her a glare as she nears.
She mirrors my dark look, placing a piece of toast in front of my lips. "Are you normally this bad-tempered?"
"Only when my female connives with my enemies."
She puts the toast in my mouth. "It is criminal to use the word connive in the twenty-first century, and I'm not your female."
To make a point, my lips clamp around her fingers and I give a greedy suck.
She gasps and her cheeks flush. I shoot rock hard at the sound, growling low in my throat.
The sound vibrates down her arm and I see gooseflesh break out around her supple skin. She wrenches her fingers away and shoots me a dark look. "What is wrong with you!?"
Despite myself, a smirk tips my lips to the side. "You liked that."
She does that thing where she opens her mouth and closes it wordlessly, ears reddening. She's so expressive. Unbidden, my cock swells even more when I wonder what other expression I could put on her face.
Oddly I find her discomfort amusing. "My offer still stands," I say. Lift your skirt and come sit o--"
She drives another toast into my mouth with such force I almost choke. But I'm laughing again. When the plates are cleared, she tips a glass of water in my mouth, drawing away. She starts to pack up.
Not ready for her to leave, I ask, "Why do you say your life is in danger?" Sudden anger fills me. "Have the Hunters threatened you?" I tamp down the emotion when I realize I have no right to be angry, not when I'm no better than them. I plan to do the same thing... Put her life in danger.
But why she could possibly be unsafe from the Hunters is a puzzle I haven't been able to fix. Or want to. If it turns out that it's truly the case, then she isn't any better off than I am. And what would that mean?
That I couldn't hate her completely.
Or use her for my callous plans.
It just wouldn't do to assume she isn't fully in with the Hunters. She is one of them.
Responsible for my capture.
And Bowen's suffering.
Rather than answer me, she pushes the trolley out of the room, saying over her shoulder, "Have a nice rest of your day, Malcolm."
The door closes shut and I'm left to the silence of the room.
At once, I begin phase one of my plan.
With a deep grunt, I twist my wrist against the manacle. I go faster, feeling a deep grove cut into my flesh. But even as blood starts to flow I don't falter. Clenching my teeth I clamp my eyes shut as the pain intensifies. Then with a groan, I rip my hand free, a chilling crack echoing in the room.
When I raise my hand to eye level, my stomach clenches. Bloody ropes of muscles, broken fingers, and protruding bones greet me. I've already started to feel the dull throb of pain that told me regeneration is underway.
I close my eyes against blinding pain as I make quick work of the other wrist.
Once it is freed, I lay staring up at the white ceilings, chest heaving. Sweat slicks down my temples, blinding me momentarily.
For the first time since being captured, I drag myself up to a sitting position. I take in a deep breath, catching a whiff of vanilla.
My muscles shoot tight.
The claws on my left hand shoot out and I set on the bindings around my legs. At the first swipe, the chains give away and I rip at the manacles. Bits and pieces fly around the room and after a few more strikes, it falls away in half.
Once I work through the second one, I drop back against the bed, boneless.
Breathing in heavily, I let my eyes slide close.
Then I lay in that position for long moments, waiting for Gwen...
GWEN__I have a fitful sleep. In my dreams, I'm in the woods. Glowing blue eyes peer at me from the shadows. Then my legs begin to move and I realize I'm running, tearing through forests as a chilling howl sounds behind me.When I feel the morbid excitement of the animal pounding after me, it is then I realize something. They enjoy the chase.I snap awake with a gasp, breathing heavily. I realize I am being shaken awake.Turning, I look at Rylan's nervous form.His pupils are slitted and his brown hair has shrunk into his skull, rendering him bald. Red scales ride the entire length of his body, giving him a macabre look. I immediately take him into my arms, breathing against his skin, "Oh, Rylan. I'm so sorry." I draw back to frame his face. "Did I wake you?"He's still staring at me, a blank, emotionless look on his face. My chest instantly clenches and in horror, I wonder if he's relieving that night. That awful night. I shake him, eyes flitting around his face. "Rylan. Honey, loo
Up ahead loiter two guards. They look at us, and then look away. But then their heads swivel back around, shock registering on their faces. They'd just drawn out their guns when Malcolm let out a chilling roar. I blink in stark disbelief when one second he's at my side, then the next he's tearing through one of the men with inhumane strength. I think I scream when his head is ripped off his shoulders. The other man's trembling hand frantically reaches for his weapon. He pulls the trigger, sending off a deafening blast. Malcolm manages to sidestep it. When the Hunter makes to shoot again, he swipes at the pistol with his claws. The man goes pale when the weapon splits into two in his hands. He looks up to see Malcolm's heavy fist flying down his face. Once the man slumps down, Malcolm marches for me. His claws are bloody and his eyes glow with rage and bloodlust. He looks so terrifying at that moment that I find myself tur
As I come to, flashes of memory zip through my mind. Glasses exploding.I blink.Sprays of shards raining down.I try to sit up.Tendrils of smoke curling up from the bonnet.My head pounds.A huge body shielding me.I try to sit up again but give up, burrowing into the leather seat. My tongue feels like lead in my mouth. "My poor car," I groan in a barely audible voice.The man seated behind the wheel turns slate grey eyes to me.His huge hand palms the back of my head and I start to reach up in protest when he runs his hand through my hair gently. "No concussion," he says in a smooth baritone, withdrawing his fingers while my face flames.I drag in a breath and sit up. Then wish I hadn't.The windshield is completely destroyed, the rowers broken clean at the hilts. I lean forward, the sun rays connecting directly with my face like I'd just peered out a damned balcony. I turn to Malcolm and sna
MALCOLM__The rest of the ride is done in stiff silence. By the time we're cutting through the edge of North Carolina, I'm brimming with something akin to shame. Gwen's gasp at the sight of my back replays in my mind, driving me to the brink of madness. I know it isn't the greatest sight to behold, but my own mate being disgusted with me... The steering wheel bends under my hands.Inhaling slowly, I retract my claws and push down my wolf.I feel Gwen's gaze on me but I don't meet it, determined to push her to the back of my mind just as I'd done my wolf. It would be easy. Nothing could stand in the way of my control.Gwen stayed on my mind till we checked into our first hotel.I could feel her pleasure at the state of our room, but before she could turn those glittering green eyes brimming with gratitude my way, I stride out of the room.I go to the dinner across the street.The girl behind the counter scrawls my order d
GWEN__I crack my eyes open to an empty room. The drapes billow and a waft of frigid air blows in, causing me to pull the sheets tighter. I sit up, taking in the wide expanse of the luxurious room blearily.Rubbing my eyes, I drag myself up and over to the bathroom. I brush my teeth and take a quick shower, hearing the front door open and close.When I step out of the bathroom, I stop short on seeing some clothes laid out on the bed.A scrap of lace catches my eye and I draw closer to investigate.My mouth falls open when I lift something to my eye level. A white thong."You've got to be kidding me," I mutter.My gaze draws to the rest of the clothes and I pry them apart, my cheeks turning redder the more I see. A white tank top, a mini skirt, and a lacy white bra. At the foot of the bed is a pair of strappy white sandals.The door comes open and I sense Malcolm immediately. I spin around, anger lacing my tone, "The
Malcolm leads the way out of the hotel. I stop in my tracks when I notice a shiny new sports car parked in a corner. "Tell me that doesn't belong to you.""Why?""It's friggin expensive, is why! How did you manage to get one so soon?""I have my ways.""You don't say."We walk down the concrete. Unconsciously, I inch closer to Malcolm when I see a man trail off in the middle of a call, eyes on the outline of my breasts in the tight tank top. I jump when I feel Malcolm slide a hand around my waist. I look up to see his jaw is clenched tight."You know, we wouldn't have this problem if you'd just let me wear those pencil skirts you look down on so much."His response is to tighten his hold on my waist. My skin heats beneath his touch.Once we get to the car, I pull away from him, wanting to put some distance between us.I open my door and slip in, my back meeting the softest leather. I close my eyes when my nose catches a
A shiver races down my spine when I hear another roar. It's closer this time.Malcolm.I quicken my pace, breaking into a run. I get to an outdoor restaurant and weave through the tables. "Sorry," I say when I knock down a fork.Gazes draw to me as I rush forward. I'd made it only a few paces before shrieks sounded out behind me.I spin around. While I'd carefully walked past the tables, Malcolm overturned them, mowing through throngs of people, canines bared in a savage snarl.I gasp, speeding as I turn around. I don't make it far."Shit!"A heavy weight lands on top of me. I am roughly turned around. My arms are shoved above me and held in an iron grip. My throat dries as I'm faced with the full force of Malcolm's glare.He wedges his hips into mine. All around us, humans scream, running the other way at the sight of a berserk shifter.His grip tightens and he snarls in my face. "You do not run away from me!"
MALCOLM__I watch Gwen tuck her son into bed. The territorial part of me is irked she'd birthed another man's child.Leaning against the door frame, I observe them. I'd tried to scent out what species the boy was, but I knew I wouldn't have much luck. He is still young. My gaze slides over Gwen and it grows hooded. Her eyes are soft, her voice gentle and sweet as she whispers words to Rylan's drowsy form."He won't remember half of that tomorrow."Her eyes snap up. "Malcolm..." she says, momentarily shocked, before she regains her composure. "He doesn't need to remember that I love him," she says."Is that what you've been filling his ears with?"Her chin goes up defensively. "Yes. Didn't you have someone filling your ears with those too when you were younger?"For a moment I'm rooted on the spot. My mouth works before my mind does. "My parents left us when we were younger, to fight against the uprising wrought by ot