“You’re staying in my room.” I pulled Cora down the corridor. “I heard what Jasper said. I’m not letting him hurt you.”

Cora dug her heels in. “No, Fee. I have to do this. It’s part of the deal I made.”

I felt sick. “What is it, Cor? What does he do?”

Her cheeks went red, and she cleared her throat. “Nothing I want to talk about, okay. But I can tell you it doesn’t hurt.”

I was tempted to argue with her, but she had that look in her eyes, the one that warned me not to push. “Well, if he fucks about, use your mojo on him.”

She laughed. “I wish I knew how that worked.”

“Maybe Vi can help?” It wasn’t a dig. I genuinely wanted her to get the support she needed, even if it didn’t come from me.

“Fee, you know this revelation changes nothing, right?”

Oh, but it did. “Course not.”

“Fee. Listen to me. You’re more than my best friend, you’re my sister. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t willed it. But I love you for you, not because of this connection we have. I love you because you deserve to be loved.”

My eyes welled. “Bitch, you’re gonna make me sob.” We fell into a hug. “I love you too.”

“I love you more.” She pulled away. “But I will have to send Cyril to your room tonight.”

“No problem.” Pushing back the unease, I broke away from her and headed to my room.

It was good to be home. Back in my chambers, I changed into my bed shorts and vest and climbed into bed. A few minutes passed, and then I felt Cyril’s presence in the room.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“Don’t hog the bed.” I closed my eyes, barely registering the dip of the mattress as he slid over the duvet and came to rest beside me, and then the lights in my mind went out.

“Wake up, Fee. Wake up,” Cyril urged.

I was on fire, every inch of me screaming out for something that didn’t make sense. I needed something. I wanted something. My abdomen was twisted in pain, my core painfully tight and throbbing.

“Fee, can you hear me?” Cyril said.

“Hurts … Cyril. Help me.”

“I’ll be back.”

Claws tore at my skin. My core contracted and pulsed, eager, wanting. Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. What was this? I pushed my hand into my pants, into the wetness, and my mind lit up with fireworks.

I knew what I needed.

I needed to fuck.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Conah

Fee’s moans of pain drift through her closed bedroom door. Fuck, she’s loud, and she’s making me hard. I swallow past the lump in my throat. I need a drink. I need to get away from this room before I lose my shit and take her myself.

“She’s in heat,” Azazel says to Mal.

“What?” Mal asks.

I know all this. Azazel has already explained it to me, but we had to pull Mal out of an orgy, so he’s not on the same page yet.

“In heat?” Mal says. “Like an animal?”

Something almost like emotion crosses Azazel’s features. “It’s a rare phenomenon that only occurs between fated mates.”

Oh, fuck, this is news to me. “Fated.”

“Loup that are genetically perfect matches for each other,” Azazel explains. “Usually alpha males and females. It’s how the strongest packs were originally formed before the female populations began to die out.”

“You’re saying Hunter is her fated mate, her perfect Loup match?” Mal asks. His face echoes my disgust at the thought.

“Yes,” Az says.

“But she hates him,” Mal reminds us.

“Maybe the human part of her has an aversion to him, but her Loup side recognizes their breeding potential. Emotion doesn’t always come into fated pairings. They aren’t soulmates, they’re perfect physical mates.”

“Shit.” Mal rubs a hand over his face as Fee’s cries grow louder.

“What do we do?” Mal asks.

There is only one thing to do. “She needs Hunter.”

“Yes,” Azazel says. “Her fated mate will be able to assuage the heat, turn the pain to pleasure.”

“She’ll never forgive us if we take her to him,” Mal says. “It will complete the mating bond if we do.”

“If she doesn’t get relief, she could die,” Azazel says softly, and once again, there is a shadow of emotion in his eyes.

I won’t do it. I won’t take away her choice like this. “There has to be another way.”

Azazel looks toward the door behind which Fee is suffering with only Cora to hold her hand.

“There might be another way,” he says. “The heat wants a connection, preferably with her fated physical match, but a soulmate might do.”

A soulmate. I stare at him. “Azazel?”

His jaw ticks. “If I do this, it puts her in danger.”

“If you don’t, she could fucking die,” Mal says. “As much as I hate to say it, you need to fuck Fee.”

Azazel closes his eyes, and when he opens them, I know he’s turned his emotions back on.

“Just for this,” he says. “The connection is stronger like this.”

He steps into Fee’s room, and a moment later, Cora exits, her face flushed, eyes bright.

“Do you think it will work?” she asks.

“It fucking better,” Mal says.

Azazel is about to touch Fee. Kiss her, slide into her. Make love to her. Jealousy claws at my insides at the same time as guilt punches me in the chest.

I have no right to feel this way. Fee isn’t mine. She’ll never be mine. Azazel is one of us; if he can help her, then that’s good enough for me because I’ll be damned if I let the psychopath Hunter get his hands on her.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Azazel

“Please…” Fee whimpers as I tug off my shirt and unbuckle my belt. She lifts her hips and touches herself, moaning and kicking out at the covers until they hit the floor. The room reeks of her arousal, and I’m painfully hard, my balls tight with the need to fuck.

It’s been too long since I wanted this.

This is my nightmare.

This is my desire.

She is everything, and she can be nothing. Even with my emotions shut off, I felt her need and wanted to reciprocate. Even with my emotions shut off, I wanted to go to her, and now, with them back on, the connection between us flares and snaps taut, calling me.

Accepting me.

Her arousal is a night bloom, heady and intoxicating. I want to hurt her and soothe her. I want to take her violently then kiss away her tears. I’m afraid to let go. Afraid what I will do, but there is no choice because she is writhing and moaning and begging me to fill her.

It’s been too long since I was inside a woman I cared for, and Fee… Fee has a part of me that no woman has ever had.

This will soothe her, but it will hurt me.

She tears at her vest and peels it over her hair. Her skin is flushed, breasts bobbing, nipples erect peaks begging to be devoured. I crawl up onto the bed and kneel between her thighs. My erection brushes her wet mound. I suck in a breath as she pushes against me so the head of my cock slides between her lips and rubs against her clit.

“Az, please. I need. Oh, God. Please, fuck me.” Her eyes are wet with tears, mouth swollen and ready for kisses I can’t give her. “I need it.” Her words break on a sob.

I grip the tops of her thighs, fingers digging in as I rub myself against her, slathering my cock in her juices. There can be no foreplay. I will do the bare minimum. I can’t forge a strong connection. Sex. Just sex is all I can offer her.

She brings her knees up, opening wider for me. “Please.”

I grab hold of her hips and push into her. Fuck, she’s tight. She’s so fucking wet and tight. I thrust, burying myself inside her as far as I can go, moaning as her body stretches for me, hugs me, massages me. Her body shudders. She cries out as her walls contract and ripple as she comes all over me. I massage her clit as her hips jerk against me over and over. It feels too good, and it takes everything I have not to come. She lies still for a long second with me still inside her, and then she whimpers and begins to push against me again. Sweat beads my brow as I lean back, grab her hips, and begin to fuck her.

Fee

More. Give me more. I need him deeper, harder. Faster. Oh, God, fill me, fuck me. I offer him my ass as I pant on all fours, and he takes me from behind, his balls slapping against me as he fucks me. I bite down on the pillow to staunch my scream, tears of pain and pleasure trickling down my cheeks as the orgasm builds for the third time. I want to ride it. I need to ride it, and then I’m on the fucking train, wave after wave, as my body goes rigid with the sensation as he continues to pound into me, and then he’s cursing and groaning and coming hot and potent inside me.

His weight hits my back, pushing me onto my front and pinning me to the mattress. His lips trace kisses on the back of my neck, and his warm breath brushes my ear.

“Fee, can you hear me?”

I make a sound, part acknowledgment, part whimper.

“Good. You have to drink something.”

He slides out of me, and I make a sound of protest at the emptiness. He needs to stay inside me.

But then I’m flipped onto my back, and he’s lifting my head up. The rim of a glass touches my bottom lip, and cold water fills my mouth. Fuck, I’m thirsty.

My vision clears, and our eyes lock—his clouded and white, looking like he can see into my soul.

“What’s happening to me?”

“You’re in heat. Ideally, you need Hunter.”

“No. Don’t.”

“We won’t. I’ll do my best to keep you comfortable.”

“How long? How long will this last?”

“Twenty-four hours,” Azazel says. “I think.”

The need is already building again, going from white-hot desire to punishing pain. I cry out and clutch at his shoulders, and he is on me, inside me, still hard, still huge. I hook my leg around his waist, angling so he can go deeper. He buries his face in my neck and begins to move. Our grunts and moans and the slap of flesh gratifies the heat. They bring the climax faster, harder, until I’m sobbing against his taut chest, clawing at him as I come all over him again.