Page 62 of Mated
"You want to keep Tanner's attention? You need to make him work for it. The man is a fucking panther for crying out loud. A damn large, annoying feline. Make him chase you like you're a fucking laser for a house cat."
"Like a laser?"
"You're fast from what we were told. And that is without diving into the beast inside you. When they take off, you do too. Run. Run fast, but keep near Tanner. Let him see you, smell you on the wind."
"She's going to have trouble fighting the others off, love," Lilah says gently over the line.
“You're fast, open for whatever we want,” Ruin says, ignoring her. I want to deny the 'whatever' part, but he’s right. And I know it.
I was going to let Caine drink my lust. Hell, for a moment I had considered more.
"Okay. So run, but not too fast. Keep Tanner on my heels and what? Pray?"
Ruin scoffs. "Pray hard, Nisha. Because they are all going to be gunning for you. Every un-mated male and some of the women. Tanner is good, but if you want the lesser of two evils, you need to make sure it's him you wake up next to tomorrow."
I huddle in on myself, heart pounding. "So no pressure?"
***
I step to the edge of theciorcal, gazing down into the deep chasm. My feet shift through the dry earth, coating my toes in fine silt. Tanner was right. Everything is almost sensual. Every press along my instep is like a lover giving me a massage. The wind pulling at my hair and flowing over my bare skin is like the barest of caresses. Even the gown is like being wrapped in arms of fabric. It squeezes my breasts, hips, and thighs.
Maybe too much.
Bending a bit, I grab the hem and rip. It splits high up my leg, but I can move easier. So I do the other side too. But now the fabric ripples over my center with the breeze. The light tickle is maddening.
I start the descent into the basin.
Many of the pack members are already present. Though Gage, Caine, and Tanner are no where in sight.
Several of the pack members look up as I near. The men’s nostrils flare, and their jaws go slack. It’s not me. Not really. But it is my scent, the arousal that still hasn’t eased. They shift, watching as I pass. Several of the women eye me as well. A few are almost annoyed. Angry. But for everyone that seems pissed at my presence, two more track their gaze up my body.
I’ve never checked a woman out, but as their arousal scents the air with mine, I can’t help but do the same. It’s not about sexual orientation or preference. It’s their strength, their inane beauty. Every single one of them seems lush in the moonlight. No matter their size, or coloring, they are all beautiful, unearthly. I catch flashes of floral soaps, spices, and what makes me think of fresh water.
That knot inside my stomach loosens, and my beast prowls up my body.
It has no qualms with male or female. For the beast does not think that way. It sees power, pack. Flesh of flesh and warmth. Companionship.
A dark-haired woman steps up beside me, her eyes a soft glowing green. She could be Hispanic but my guess is closer to Cajun. Her lips curve as she watches me. “You smell good enough to eat,cher,” she croons in a heavily accented voice, confirming my guess.
I inhale.
Fresh water.
So this is the source of such a unique fragrance.
“And you smell like fresh water.”
Her smile grows. “Good, you got strong senses. You going to need them tonight.”
“Is it hard?” I ask. “Running like this?”
That makes her brows knit. “That would be like asking the tide if it’s hard to rise,cher.” She leans closer, breathing me in. Her dark hair brushes my face, filling my head with fresh greenery and a flowing stream. “You just run, love. You run and let the boys and girls run with you. Don’t think, just step. It’s not so hard after that.” She pulls back with a wink. “And if you find yourself alone come sunrise, you come to me, hear?”
I blush, but nod.
She walks away, and I keep pushing my way deeper into theciorcal.
The crowd parts as I go, letting me through, and it’s only as I am steered towards the deep recessed basin of roots at the rear of the pit do I realize why.
