Chapter Nine
He felt Jessa wake on the bed next to him, her body stiffening at the sound of howling. Lots and lots of howling. There was no break—when one ended, another began. The sound filled the room, offering him security, and her fear.
“Easy.” He spoke softly against her ear. “They’re just getting ready for tomorrow.”
She drew in a wavering breath, her body trembling. There’d been no howling the last three nights, and she’d slept easy in his arms while he’d lain awake, wanting her. She’d managed to make herself at home, even with the uneasiness amongst his pack. They all knew she was his mate and were tired of his foul mood and short temper as he refused to admit the same. The pack laughed it off, but Jessa was hurt by his indifference.
Until they went to bed. It was hard to stay indifferent when she was in his arms.
Sleeping with her made everything better—and so much worse. While she’d had sweet dreams, his wolf demanded what he couldn’t take. Her reaction now, shivering from the howl of the wolves, proved his point. But she had every right to be afraid. After what she’d seen, what she’d learned, the world was no longer a safe place.
She pressed closer to him, stirring all the hunger he’d spent hours bottling up. He pressed his eyes shut, knowing what he should do.
Leave the room.
Put distance between them.
Reassure her she was safe—with words, not touch.
Instead, he rolled behind her, spooning against her back and draping an arm around her waist. The contact made his wolf sit up and take notice, but the chain around his neck grew hot—reminding him to be careful. “It’s what wolves do,” he said.
“Do you understand them?” she whispered, rigid in his hold.
“Sort of,” his voice was gruff. “Their intent.”
She shivered against him, still uneasy.
“It’s okay, Jessa. You’re safe.” But was she? His hand pressed against her stomach, offering—and taking—comfort in the contact. His palm warmed, the energy between them alive. She relaxed, making it that much easier to mold himself around her. The slight increase of her pulse made him pause. He swallowed. When he spoke, his words were a whisper. “Touching you comforts me.”
“Yes,” she murmured, the feel of her hand on his arm instantly pulling him in. The need to claim her was overwhelming. All it took was that touch, light and soft…almost timid. What would it feel like to have her touch him with confidence? Ownership? He wanted that, so much. A strange noise, part growl, tore from his throat.
She lifted her hand. “I’m sorry.”
He rolled onto his back, grasping for control. He was the one that should be sorry, not her. “Don’t be,” he ground out.
Her words were low, harsh and ragged. “I feel like your wolf. Like you’re fighting…me. Something you don’t want, but can’t let go of.” She slid to the edge of the bed.
She was right—he couldn’t let go of her. He lay there, reining in the need to show her what she did to him. He gripped the silver medallion. How could she understand what she was to him? If he gave in, she’d never be free. Protecting her from himself was the right thing to do.
His wolf wanted her to know, to understand. To feel what she did to them and who she was.
Protecting her meant keeping her warm, not letting her shiver on the side of the damn bed. He slid to the bedside, sitting as close as possible without touching her. The words rose in his chest, the wolf demanded he speak. “Jessa—” He broke off, his lungs emptying. He looked at her. “You know what I’m capable of. What do you want from me?”
Her green eyes shone, raw with hunger—hunger his wolf wholeheartedly approved of. She didn’t understand. She needed to understand.
“Do you remember what I said in the truck?” he asked.
She blinked, her lips parting.
“A wolf has one mate. One.” And his wolf was waiting, ready. He swallowed, standing to pace before the fire. Say it. You’re mine. The wolf would rather he showed her. But throwing her down on the bed and giving her what she thought she wanted didn’t seem like the best idea.
“And…and sex isn’t the same thing. I know.” She kept talking, her voice wavering—uncertain. “But I don’t understand what’s happening between us,” she added, her words thick and strained. “I’ve never been so…drawn to a person. If this isn’t what you want, why is it…this way between us?”
He stared at her, the roar of blood in his veins and the drum of his heart making it hard to focus. Drawn to him? Isn’t that what he wanted?
“You act like there’s nothing between us, but there is. We’re connected.” Her cheeks flushed. “You want me close, so close I can feel you want me, but I can’t have you.” She stared at him. “What about what I want?”
She wanted him. But she didn’t understand what that meant. What if she wanted to leave him? What the hell would he do then? She was his mate. If the bond was sealed, he couldn’t let her go.
“Or is it the wolf that wants me, but not you?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand any of this.” She was angry. “Tell me. Explain it so I can understand.” He heard her uncertainty—her frustration.
Like him.
And his control was slipping. The wolf was winning. For once, Finn wanted him to win. He wanted to claim her. “A connection?” he repeated, crossing the room in two long steps. He gripped the blanket wrapped around her and tugged her to her feet. “I wish it were that simple.”
Her eyes widened as she whispered, “Finn—”
His voice was gruff and hard. “This isn’t about sex, Jessa.” His tilted her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye. He hadn’t meant to sound harsh, but dammit, he couldn’t stand hearing the doubt in her voice. He never wanted to hear it again. She stared at him, stunned. “This is about you, choosing me. No going back. No leaving. My mate. You are mine. Always.”
“You—”
“I won’t tie you to me. To this life. I can’t,” he continued. “So, yes. I fight.”
“Stop fighting,” she whispered.
He froze, his mind reeling, his fingers twisting in the blanket he’d pinned her in. She didn’t mean it. She couldn’t. He shook his head, denying the urge to pull her against him, to bind her to him. The wolf circled, howling in frustration, forcing Finn to hear her—to accept it.
She stepped closer, her hand covering the medallion that rested on his bare chest. “I choose you.” She shivered, her eyes locking with his.
“Do you understand what you’re saying, Jessa?”
Her fingers traced along his jaw. “You’re mine. And I am yours.”
He clasped the back of her head, fighting the wolf’s hunger even as he held her close. He ran his nose along her hairline, a strange thrum of heat and a prick of pain tightening his chest, stealing the air from his lungs. “Always, Jessa. The wolf—I—won’t let you go. I can’t.”
Her green eyes burned. “Never let me go,” her voice hitched.
He gave up, and the wolf took over. If this was what she wanted, he couldn’t fight her. She’d given herself to him, and the need to possess her was undeniable.
The last threads of rational thought and restraint slipped away. His hold tightened, hard and desperate, cradling her head, pulling her against him as his lips captured hers. She shuddered, her fingers gripping his shoulders as his tongue delved between her lips. The heat of her mouth, the broken gasp of breath, the tentative stroke of her tongue against his, had him lowering her to the bed beneath him.
There would be time to love her, to explore every inch of her. But right now, the wolf needed to seal their bond. Finn needed it.
He pushed his boxers off and kicked them aside, his hands already slipping under her flannel nightshirt to pull the fabric up and over her head. She helped, tugging the sleeves free and tossing it over his shoulder. He stared down, enthralled by every curve. Her skin was smooth, the small birthmark under her right breast the only mark on her. She was breathing heavily, watching him—waiting. And the instinct to fill her erased all else.
His hands clasped her hips, sliding her to the edge of the bed. “I’m not sure I can keep control. I want you so bad.”
She nodded, the erratic rhythm of her breathing inflaming him further. “Lose control. Love me now.”
He stood, so hard he hurt, staring down at her. She was beautiful, soft and eager. Her hands gripped his forearms, her green eyes fixed on his face, waiting. He ignored the painful singe of the silver against his neck and chest, and lifted her hips. No one had ever looked at him like this, had accepted him as he was. He held her gaze. Even as he traced his thumb across her taut nub, as she arched up and against him, as the pulsing tip of his erection slid just inside the tight heat of her body, his gaze remained locked with hers.
He groaned, his hands tightening on her hips.
Her nails dug into his skin, her breath escaping on a tight hiss.
He slid deep, her body stretching to accommodate him.
“Finn.” His name. His Jessa. His mate.
Something shifted inside him, chipping away at the wall around his heart, the isolation he’d used to stay strong. No more. His heart and that of his wolf’s aligned, beating as one. A sharp pain sliced through is chest, his lungs convulsing so tightly he could not move or think or breathe. The scar at his side was on fire, throbbing. The wound felt new, agonizingly raw. He curled in on himself, grinding his teeth against the remembered tear of bone into flesh. For an instant, he froze, struggling to stay upright as his gaze bored into Jessa’s.
She moaned, her hands tightening on his arms. “Finn?” It was a broken whisper.
He drove into her, the pain easing the more he moved. The more he moved, the more she responded. Her hands slid up his arms, running over his shoulders. Her nails raked his back and buttocks, pushing him on. Her head fell back, her eyes closing.
“Look at me, Jessa,” he murmured. He heard the command in his voice, knew she heard it, too. Her green eyes fluttered open. It was more than this overwhelming drive to join her body. In her eyes, he saw the acceptance of their bond. That she wanted this. That she wanted him. He could feel the rapid beat of her pulse, her body constricting tightly around him. Her breathing was shallow, almost panting. He wasn’t the only one drowning in this. And it felt right.
He bent, dropping a kiss against her lips, leaning into the touch of her hand on his cheek. He moved with a frenzy he didn’t understand. He didn’t want to hurt her, but there was no easing the wolf. Groaning, he cradled her face between his hands, and kissed her.
She stared up at him, the need in her gaze shameless.
His hand slipped between them, his thumb sliding over the tight nub. He stroked the smooth flesh, smiling at the high-pitched whimper she made. He watched her face, her parted lips, the slight crease between her brows. His lips latched onto her nipple, tongue and teeth working the hardened peak until her hands fisted in his hair. He didn’t stop until he felt her climax, the rhythmic clamping of her body constricting around his rock-hard erection.
He arched into her, wanting more, to be deeper. To leave her, even a fraction of an inch, drove the wolf into a frenzy. He thrust deep, mindless, seeking, burning. His heart clenched, gripped in an unseen vice. His release slammed into him, forcing a cry from his lungs—from deep inside. He braced himself over her as wave after wave of pleasure and pain wracked his body.
She held on to him, her soft hands clinging to his sides, sliding to his hips. As the fog of release cleared, his heart pumped frantically.
Only then did he realize what he’d done. They were mated, his wolf was happy, but he’d lost total control. And, for the first time in his life, he’d had sex without a condom.
…
Jessa couldn’t move. Her heart was pounding, her lungs were scrambling for air, and every cell was processing what had just happened. She hadn’t known what to expect, if it would be different for her. Yes, she’d picked Finn as her partner, her mate, but she wasn’t a wolf. She didn’t know what, exactly, would happen. If anything. But different wasn’t the right word. Never in her life had she experienced anything like that.
“Jessa?” Finn’s voice was low, soft.
She opened her eyes. He was beautiful, braced over her, breathing hard. She hadn’t expected to know, with absolute confidence, that he was hers. “Hi.”
He grinned, dropping onto his elbows to kiss her. She welcomed the kiss, her hands sliding up his back to hold him close. But then she lifted her hands, remembering his reaction to her touch earlier.
“Touch me,” he said against her lips.
She smiled.
He pulled back, his gaze searching hers.
“I thought it hurt you,” she explained.
He shook his head. “Not now.”
“But it did before?” she asked, running her hands up his back. Her eyes widened. “Because you were fighting me?”
He closed his eyes, arching into her touch. His gaze met hers. “No more.”
She nodded. “No more.”
He kissed her again, his mouth soft, teasing. His breath fanned across her cheek, stirring a response she’d been sure he’d exhausted. But she wanted him now even more. Until the pain started.
She gasped, clutching at her side.
“Jessa?”
She pushed at him, needing air, needing to curl tight and cover her side.
“What’s wrong?” He was desperate, his hands smoothing the hair from her face.
“I don’t know,” she hissed, the agony blinding her to everything. She curled into herself, pressing her hands to her side, but she couldn’t escape the pain. “Oh God, Finn.” She buried her face in her pillow, terrified she’d scream. What was happening? And how the hell could she make it stop?
Finn’s hands were on her, the sweet agony of his touch making her cry out again. He pulled her into his lap, pressing her close. “Jessa,” his finger tipped her face back. “What is it? Please tell me.” His seemed voice faint.
She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. The tearing in her side was a pain she’d never experienced. Beyond the pain, there was recognition—as if memories she’d long forgotten suddenly reappeared. They were faint, hints of things that were completely foreign yet oddly familiar. And it scared her. Violence. Fear.
So much pain.
She was vaguely aware of moving. Of voices. Of crying out when someone touched her side. Finn touched her then, she knew it was him. His touch eased the pain instantly.
“I’m sorry, Jessa.” She felt his hand on her forehead and turned toward his whispered words. “This is my fault.”
How was it his fault?
None of this was his fault. When she could talk, she’d tell him.
But the darkness closed in on her, and Finn faded away.
She dreamed.
For so long, she was walking in the dark.
Wolves came, lots of them—following her. And she wasn’t afraid. Until a large white wolf came. Cyrus. She ran and ran. Finn was there. Finn as a wolf. He was big, his brown coat dusted with snow as he circled her. His blue eyes were the same, watching her with such intensity she knew she was safe. But when she followed Finn through the woods, she lost him. Somehow, she ended up at her house. Thomas was having dinner with her brothers. Thomas, with long teeth and wild eyes. She pounded on the windows but they didn’t hear her. Thomas did. Time seemed to slow, her brothers and sister moving in slow motion. She saw the look on his face, the way he smiled at her before he attacked her brothers. There was nothing she could do but scream.
“Jessa?” It was Finn’s voice. “Please wake up.” She heard the anguish in his voice but couldn’t open her eyes.