Page 15 of Shifting Hearts 1
So I continue to keep my distance. I stand in the shadows, fists clenched, chest heaving, while the bond shreds me from the inside out. And I pray to a Goddess I swore I’d never believe in again that I can survive this night without breaking.
Because if she wakes and whispers my name again… I won’t walk away twice.
By the time dawn breaks and the morning light starts to filter in, I can’t stand the cabin anymore. I need space. Distance. Anything to quiet the constant hum of her in my blood.
So I walk into town. I’ll get some supplies, I tell myself. Food, bandages, soap, and some clothes. Things she’ll need when she’s stronger.
But that doesn’t help either. Even with the noise of the market, the chatter of humans, the scent of strangers pressing in, all I can feel is her. The bond tethers me, stretching thin with the distance I have put between us, a constant ache pulls me back to the cabin. Back to her.
By the time I return, my chest is tight, and my hands are raw from clenching them the whole way. The moment I open the door, I hear it.
Water.
The bathroom door is cracked, steam spilling out in lazy curls. And through it…. her.
Paris.
Her silhouette shimmers behind the frosted glass of the shower. The curves of her body blurred but unmistakable. The arch of her back, the swell of her breasts, the line of her thighs.
I freeze.
The beast inside me surges, claws tearing me from the inside as he fights to gain control, the bond screaming so loud I can barely think. My cock hardens instantly, painfully, straining against my jeans as my breath turns ragged.
I should turn away. I should leave. But I don’t.
Instead, I stumble back against the wall, my fists trembling as I fight the pull.
The sound of water sliding over her skin…. my skin burns just imagining it. Her soft sigh as the spray hits her neck, the way her head tips back. It’s too much for one man to handle.
I break.
My hand shoves into my jeans before I can stop it, gripping my aching cock with a desperate groan. The strokes of my hand are violent, brutal even. I pump my fist in quick, punishing strokes, my eyes locked on the shadow of her behind that glass. My body shakes, sweat slicking my skin, every nerve alight with her.
Her name rips from my throat in a low, strangled growl as I spill hot and fast into my palm, my hips jerking, and my vision blurring at the intense pleasure.
When it’s over, I slump against the wall, my chest heaving, and shame cutting through the haze of lust.
I can still hear her in the stall. Still see her silhouette through the pane of glass. And I still want her like a damn fiend. And I know with every fiber of my being if I stay, I won’t stop at touching myself.
I’ll take her. And that’s something I can’t come back from.
I wipe my hand on my shirt, disgust and hunger tangling until I can barely breathe. Then I turn, shoving out the cabin door before the bond breaks me completely. Better the night devours me than I devour her too soon.
NINE
Breaking Chains
Paris
Iwake to silence.
The cabin is empty. Again.
For a moment, I lie still, staring at the ceiling beams, waiting for the bond to settle. But it doesn’t. It howls. Screams. Tears at me from the inside. The hollow where Ranger should be is a wound that burns deeper every time he leaves me.
He was here. I felt him. And now he’s gone again, like I’m too much, like I’m not worth staying for. Just like Gabriel.
A low growl rumbles in my chest before I even realize it. My nails bite into my palms, my breath sharp and uneven.
