Page 18 of Destined Dawn
I scoff. That may have been true if Spencer had welcomed me with open arms. Instead, he stuffed me into a locker, refused to teach me self defense and then left all together.
“The boy is young and sometimes foolish,” the beast says, stepping so close, his whiskers brush against my face and his breath whistles over my skin. “He has made mistakes.”
He smells like Spencer and I realize for the first time how distinct his scent is, powerful and deep and bold.
“But he finds it hard to resist you.” The beast nuzzles his muzzle under my chin and my heart leaps into my throat, my magic sizzling at the ends of my fingertips. Is this safe?
I told Spencer I could take care of myself, but the beast is far bigger than I remember and up close I can see how powerful he is too. My magic is strong – stronger than it ever was – but would it be strong enough to stop a werebeast?
“You are so young, so soft, so beautiful,” he croons, the tip of the beast’s tongue lapping over the point where mypulse beats in my throat. “Just as you always were, little mate.”
And I don’t know what possesses me – if I’m just really stupid or the tenor of his voice, low and lulling, has me in a trance – but I lift my hands and stroke my fingers through the dark fur on his head. It’s thick and luscious and soft to the touch and the beast responds, closing his eyes and purring with pleasure.
“I am yours to command, little mate. Your faithful mutt.”
“Don’t say that word,” I mutter.
“Yes,” he says, “he doesn’t like it either. He is ashamed of what we are, afraid of it.”
“He shouldn’t be,” I tell him.
“No,” he says. “You must make him understand that.”
“I’m not sure I can make Spencer Moreau do anything,” I say with a huff, reaching to stroke the mane of fur on his neck, his body vibrating as he purrs with satisfaction, a vibration I feel in my chest and my bond.
“The boy would do anything for you.” The beast slides his long tongue up my throat. “He is as infatuated with you as I am.”
I move around him, continuing to comb my fingers through his fur and then, because I definitely have lost my mind, bury my face in his fur and rest my body weight against his huge frame. Is it strange that his presence is somehow comforting, reassuring? At the academy I saw this beast smash through five men at once. I saw him tear them to pieces. I saw him lick the blood from his jaw.
But is he any worse than Renzo? Any worse than Azlan? They are all killers. All monsters in their own way. Even Stone and Tristan have acted cruelly more times than not. I can’t pretend my fated mates are nice, gentle types. I’m not sure I can even pretend that they are good men.
Then again, I’m not sure good men are what I need. Or what I want. I have a taste for monsters now. And if my mom is correct, and others are going to come for me, like they came for her, maybe monsters are exactly what I need to protect me.
We stand there, the beast and I, for some time, my head buried in his soft fur, my mind lost to my thoughts, until finally he says, “I need to move now, little mate, to run.” He stands back up on his hind legs looking more humanoid than wolf. “Do you wish to come with me?”
“With you?” I say, laughing. “I don’t think I could keep up.”
“I will allow you to mount me. To ride me.”
“Erm …” I say.
“Are you afraid?”
“No,” I say, squaring my shoulders. “It’s just it seems … are you sure?”
“Little mate,” the beast says, his eyes flashing again. “You can ride me any time you like.” His lips curl into a smirk. “Any way you wish.”
I swallow, trying damn hard not to look at the huge object that hangs between his legs. That is just … that is just …
I shake my head. “Another time.” I take a step backward.
“Little mate, I will not hurt you.”
He lifts his arm, offering me his great paw, the claws long and sharp.
And Spencer was right, one of these days my curiosity is going to get me killed. Maybe that day will be today, but damn it. Riding a dragon was one of the most amazing things I’ve ever done. Am I really going to turn down the chance to ride a werebeast?
Yeah, silly question. Of course, I’m not.
