Page 74 of Marked By Moonlight

Claire leaned forward in her seat as the vehicle slowed. She clutched the dashboard in both hands, watching as a uniformed guard waved them through wrought iron gates. Turning around in her seat, she stared back at the guardhouse fading in the distance. The gates clanked shut, the sound echoing in her ears.

As they drove up a winding drive she couldn’t help noticing several dogs, rottweilers and Doberman pinschers, roaming the grounds. How would she ever get past them?

“You can’t escape,” Darius announced as if he could read her mind.

She tugged at the bottom of her jacket, trying to cover more of her naked thighs. Gideon’s familiar scent reached her nose, creating a deep pang in her heart. The sound of him calling her name from the street still rang in her ears. She hoped he was all right, hoped Cooper hadn’t hurt him.

Darius parked in front of a sprawling limestone mansion with a Spanish-tiled roof. It loomed at least three stories high. He came around to open her door for her and she bolted, prepared to take her chances and try to outrun the dogs. She had to try. Once inside that house, she might not get another chance.

She didn’t make it far before he yanked her back by the collar of her jacket and flung her over his shoulder. Claire found herself staring at the ground again, the bones of his shoulder digging uncomfortably into her stomach.

He carried her through the front door. A man held the door open for them, watching blandly as Darius hauled her upstairs like a sack of potatoes. On the stairs, a maid clutched a broom and dustpan in one hand and stepped aside as they passed, eyes averted in deference. No one seemed the least bothered to see her slung over Darius’s shoulder.

“Help!” she cried out.

He carried her down a long hallway lined with portraits that looked museum quality. She studied the burgundy runner as she bounced on his shoulder, wondering if he was taking her to the rest of his pack.

He entered a room and tossed her on a bed. She shot to her feet and scanned the rest of the room, searching for others. Her eyes met nothing save a well-appointed room with bars protecting the window.

Sighing in relief, she pulled Gideon’s jacket tighter around her only to catch another whiff of him. Her heart constricted at the clean masculine smell laced with that faint hint of freshly cut wood.

Squaring her shoulders and taking comfort in Gideon’s scent, she faced Darius. “What a lovely jail. You’ll have to give me the name of your decorator.”

“I want you to be comfortable,” he said politely, gesturing to the room with an elegant sweep of his hand.

“So that your pack of wolves can ravish me in luxury?”

“There are no other lycans here save us.”

“I’m not like you,” she shot back, motioning at him with a desperate wave.

“I know.” His gaze raked her. “That’s why I want you.”

Her bare toes curled into the plush carpet and she inhaled deeply, steeling herself against that hungry appraisal, more terrified by that one look than all his manhandling. There was no mistaking the carnal interest blazing in those icy eyes.

He advanced on her slowly, like a cat stalking its prey. “I couldn’t forget you. You’re different. You’re not like the others—”

“What about your pack?” She moved back a step for every step he took in her direction. “Werewolves aren’t monogamous. You want me, but that means I would have to—” She struggled to sayit. “Mate with the others.” She shook her head vigorously. “No thanks.”

He nodded as though he approved. “Someone’s been teaching you about lycans.”

“That’s right.” She bumped into a dresser and slid along it, her hands feeling the smooth wood drawers behind her. Still moving, always moving. “I know enough to know that I won’t be one of your kind—”

“You already are.”

“No! I won’t mate like a dog in heat with your pack—”

“I told you. I’m the only one here. And I’m not sharing you with anyone.” His lips curved. “I’m keeping you for myself.”

She frowned. “What do you mean you’re the only one? Every wolf has a pack.”

“Not me.”

A lone wolf? Without a pack? Gideon had never mentioned such a possibility.

She angled her head suspiciously. “Why not?”

“Like you… I’m different.”

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