Cold water sluiced over his body, chilling his skin but not the heat in his blood. The shower jets pounded down on his back and chest, massaging his fatigued muscles with tiny, icelike needles of water. It was bracing. Exactly what he needed. Her memories kept playing out in his brain, cycling through countless atrocities—images and sounds and pain. The only time it stopped was when she touched him. Being lost in her, buried in the mind-numbing tightness of her body, stopped all thought. But she was exhausted, and he wasn’t a totally selfish ass, so he’d hoped a cold shower would snap him out of whatever the fuck this was.
He had a mate? If he didn’t feel it—no, know it—he’d laugh. But he did. Damn it. He did. And if he had a mate, he had a wolf.
“Fuck.” He growled, tilting his face back under the water.
Everything he was working for seemed empty now. After the attack, he’d clung to the belief that this was fixable. Now…he just didn’t know. And Ellen? There wasn’t a more complicated woman in existence.
She was stubborn. Smart, yes, and undeniably sexy. But something inside of him had claimed her as his. Theirs. And there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing. It was done.
Now he was forever tied to a woman who would hate him if he continued to pursue his work. He couldn’t cure Ellen from being Ellen. He didn’t want to. Did he?
“Fuck,” he ground out again, resting his head against the tiles.
What was he hoping? He’d take her to bed and suddenly her goals and wants would change? He might be having some sort of life-altering upheaval, but that didn’t mean she was. No. Ellen’s goals were the same.
Maybe, deep down, he’d hoped she’d pick him over vengeance. But that was before. Now he understood. He’d seen what she’d been through, fucking felt it. His skin twitched, seeking escape from a touch that wasn’t there. Now he understood why her drive was so complete. She’d been to hell and back. If anyone had a right to vengeance, it was her. And damn it all, he’d make sure she had it.
And his work? He blinked the water away. Did it matter?
As unfamiliar as the urge to hunt was, he recognized it. How could he rest until the motherfucking bastard was annihilated? He couldn’t. He wouldn’t. She needed peace. They all needed peace. Deserved it.
He’d been so lost in his head he didn’t hear her until her hands were on his back.
“It’s freezing.” She stepped back, then squealed as the rear jets blasted her.
He adjusted the temperature. “I didn’t hear you.”
“You normally take arctic showers?” she asked, tentatively testing the water temperature. With a sigh, she stepped under the water.
God she was incredible. Water streamed over her body, dipping into her belly button, dripping from her nipples, coursing between her full breasts. He couldn’t get enough of her.
“No?” she asked, watching him. “Yes?”
“No,” he rasped. “But I can’t seem to stop touching you and since you wouldn’t promise not to rip my throat out, I thought I’d give this a try.”
She stopped washing her hair, her eyes going wide. ?
?I’m your mate. You can touch me whenever you want to.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I never do.” Her chin lifted, just enough.
“I know.” There was plenty of things they didn’t know about each other, but her character wasn’t in question.
“I saw a woman in your head.” There was an edge to her voice.
A very interesting, slightly amusing edge. But he knew better than to smile.
“She had long blond hair,” she continued. “Green eyes.”
“What about her?” He poured shampoo into his hand and lathered up his hair.
“Hollis?” Her tone alerted him.
He took his time rinsing his hair, then looked at her. “Ellen?”
She was gorgeous when she was angry. And she was angry. “Who is she?”