I sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, my legs hanging uselessly over the edge. Damon carried me in here after the healer and the beta left for the second time. He stands in between my useless legs, his hands pressed flat against the counter.
All I can think of is my impending death. It wasn’t that long ago that my wolf was craving it—begging me to jump off a cliff and challenging an alpha to end our miserable life.
But now that we’re sitting on the precipice, she’s decided that she wants to live. Stupid wolf. Now isn’t the time to get cold feet.
It doesn’t take Einstein to realize that if the celestial silver does its work, we’re going to die, and not quickly either. It’s likely to be a painful and protracted death.
It’s like being caught between a rock and a hard place. I can choose death, or I can be mated to a ruthless alpha who craves power above all else, who only decided he wants me once he learned I was a conduit.
It’s a shame for him that the conduit he has is cursed with an entirely useless gift.
“~He loves us~,” my wolf whines, “~he wants to claim us. You are the only one stopping us from all being happy.~”
I try to block her out, but it feels like when I was staring at that wounded bird, trying not to heal it. Virtually impossible. So instead, I have to listen to her extol the virtues of her mate. Hers, not mine. At least not yet.
I don’t have long to decide. The longer I wait, the less chance we have of recovering, if that is even possible.
“~I want to feel my paws on the grass. To run with my mate. Please, Ember…~”
She’s never begged me for anything before. Hell, she’s barely even asked me. She usually just does what she wants while I struggle to maintain control.
The hurt in her voice is enough to make my tears start flowing again. Damon’s large hand gently rubs my back in an attempt to soothe me.
Both my wolf and Damon’s think we are second-chance mates. They both feel something, but it seems neither Damon nor I do.
There have been no sparks or electricity. The closest I came to feeling anything was when Damon sucked the place on my neck where his mark would go.
Perhaps it’s part of my curse that I’ll never get to feel the full force of a mating bond.
I never got to touch Noah. He rejected me before I had the opportunity. But my wolf sensed him, even while I was in human form. She smelled his overpowering scent, and she sent me rushing out to find him.
Is that my doom? To have to rely on my wolf. My wolf and I have never seen eye to eye. We’ve always had an uneasy relationship with me suppressing her and her trying to throw me into reckless situations. And now I have to trust her, somehow.
I’m pulled out of my depressing thoughts by Damon’s voice, deep and sultry, murmuring comforting nothings. That voice is one thing about him that seems to affect me. Is that part of the mate bond, or is it just because he’s an alpha?
I’ve given up trying to work it out.
His large hand gently cups my cheek. Although there are no sparks, there’s a warmth to it, and I find myself leaning into it rather than trying to pull away.
“You have to accept this, Ember. Don’t make me force a bond on you.”
I look up into his dark-brown eyes, searching for something, anything, that will tell me that we have a bond. I want to feel what my wolf is feeling, but I’m not even sure what I’m looking for.
All I realize is that I don’t want to die. I never really wanted to. It was all my wolf.
I tilt my head to the side, exposing my neck to him, and breathe out a heavy sigh. “Do it,” I whisper.
If nothing else, at least this will make my wolf happy.
She deserves to be happy. After all, she’s hardly ever shifted since she’s been with me, and being stuck in my head twenty-four-seven can’t be much fun.
I expect Damon to immediately sink his canines into my neck, and I tense, ready for the pain. But a few seconds pass, and nothing happens.
I glance up at him, and he shakes his head, cupping both my cheeks gently in his large hands. “Not like that, Ember. Do you really think I’m that cold?”
I swallow nervously. Now probably isn’t a good time to anger him. He might change his mind.
Despite what my wolf says, I still can’t help wondering if Damon wants this as much as his wolf does or if he just wants me for what I can give him.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I know nothing about you, apart from what I’ve heard.”
He sighs. “And exactly what have you heard?” he asks.
I look at his face and see his jaw twitch. Why did I have to open my big mouth? I shake my head. “It doesn’t matter.”
Damon raises an eyebrow and keeps looking at me, keeping eye contact.
I want to lower my gaze, but I can’t because his hands are holding my head in place. Not harshly, though. I’m actually surprised how gentle his touch can be.
I realize that he wants an answer from me, and he’ll know if I lie. He’s already told me once that he hates liars.
I swallow nervously. “They say you’re ruthless, that you always get what you want.” I hesitate, then add, “And that you killed your mate.”
I expect him to be angry, but he isn’t. He just sighs. “The first two things are probably true,” he accedes. “But the third…” He shakes his head, and sadness masks his face.
“I didn’t kill my mate. Perhaps one day I will tell you what happened. I don’t like talking about it.” Slowly, giving me the chance to pull away, he leans toward me and presses his lips to mine.
My hands touch his chest, not to push him away but to try to ground myself. I can feel his hard muscles under the material of his shirt. He oozes power and strength.
His lips are soft, and the kiss is gentle, not what I was expecting at all.
“~Kiss him back~,” my wolf urges.
I’m about to do just that when he breaks the kiss. “I don’t want you for what you are, Ember James. I want you for who you are,” he whispers softly.
His hands leave my cheeks, and I suddenly feel a little empty at the loss of his touch. I don’t feel the emptiness for long, though, as his hand comes up to cup the back of my head.
He leans in once again, and I feel his breath tickle my neck. Goose bumps erupt across my skin, and his deep voice whispers in my ear, “I’m sorry, this will hurt a little.”
He begins to place gentle kisses down the column of my neck until he reaches the place where he will mark me.
I tense, but he just carries on kissing, making me moan. I don’t know why I’m so sensitive there—it’s like his tongue is caressing something much more intimate. I could feel this forever.
At some point, the sensation makes me forget what is about to happen as my arousal peaks and my core starts to throb with need.
Then I scream as I feel a searing pain. Damon’s canines penetrate my skin, and I feel blood trickle down my skin.
I try to push him away, but it’s a fruitless venture. The strength and power I felt from him before come to bear as he wraps his other arm tightly around my waist, pulling me tightly into his hard chest.
Then my scream turns into a moan, pain edging into the most intense pleasure I’ve ever felt. Instead of trying to push him away, my fists grip the material of his shirt as I try to pull him closer.
The sensation of his lips on my skin sends thousands of little shock waves through my body, leaving me not just wanting more contact but needing it.
As if he can read my mind, Damon’s hand slides up the back of my shirt, his fingertips softly grazing my spine.
An explosion of ecstasy pulses through my body. Even as I throw my head back, his lips don’t leave the mark he has made.
“Damon,” I moan his name like a prayer.
“Mate,” Damon growls lowly in response.