Taming the Beast

“How is it fair if I don’t know the rules?”

Would it make a difference? “Do you ever play by the rules?” I shot back.

He folded his arms over his chest, mocking me.

Though while I probably looked like a woman trying too hard to be tough, he didn’t even need to try, his thick biceps bunching and shoulders squaring like small mountains. Dark stubble lined his jaw, merging into thick, black hair that hung over eyes that stared at me, unblinking. I took back my earlier assessment: he wasn’t just gorgeous, he was edible. Mouth watering, panty dropping, wickedly-combustible-thoughts edible.

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Maybe. Sometimes. When it’ll get me what I want.”

“And what do you want?” My mouth bypassed my brain without applying any kind of a filter.

“That depends on exactly what is on offer.” He delivered the statement without a hint of heat, but his eyes left me in no doubt exactly to what he was inferring. What he was offering.

I’m pretty sure my mouth fell open, but I couldn’t be sure, since my body was a big ball of heat, heat rushing to my cheeks and between my legs in a surge that left me gasping. If he could do this to me just by looking at me, what would happen if—

“Hold that thought, sweetheart.” This time his smile was pure smirk as he fished a small cell phone out of his pocket and swiped the screen open. Less than five minutes later he was ending the call with a frown.

“The Shifter Council confirmed my authority?” I’d found my voice again. Thank God.

“They did.” He was staring at the phone in his hand like he’d never seen it before in his life. “This is really happening,” he whispered. A lost look flitted over his features, a blankness seeping into his eyes.

I was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He wasn’t looking for sympathy. He appeared to have forgotten I was even sitting there, the silence stretching on and on as he continued to resemble a statue.

I had come into his home and turned his life upside down. He needed me to be professional and fair, to find a way for him to keep his clan and home. He needed me to do my job, and I hadn’t been lying when I said I was very good. I was the best, my eidetic memory lending itself to facts and figures in a way that surpassed all of my peers.

I had to stay impersonal and impartial. I owed him that. It was the right thing to do.

So why did I feel like screaming?

Chapter 3

Bastian

I could feel her watching me, her gaze burning into me. Her breathing was slowly returning to normal, her arms falling back down to her sides and fists unclenching. She was such a tiny thing, yet still so full of life and potential. Fire—that’s what she had—burning bright inside that devious mind of hers. Giving me no choice but to do as she ask.

But it would be on my terms.

Once she had what she’d come for, she’d go. Nothing more, nothing less. She wasn’t the right woman for me to take as a mate, too human, too spirited, too … intriguing. Too much fire to ever submit to my loveless conditions. Too much of a risk.

Taking a deep breath, I gestured for her to follow me, leading the way out into the hallway and down to my office. Pushing open the door, instinct had me holding it open so she had to brush past on her way in, refusing to move out of the way.

Her hair drifted on the air, tickling my nose as strands twisted into tiny corkscrews bounced with her steps. Summer meadows and wildflowers in bloom saturated every forced inhalation, driving me faster and faster toward a madness I already knew awaited.

It would only take a moment to throw her over my shoulder, carry her upstairs and deposit her on my bed.

Where she belongs … my dragon whispered in a throaty growl.

If she struggled, I’d smack her juicy, bouncing ass, claim her lips and plunder her mouth, silence her with my hands and body until she could only moan and scream. Keep her hidden away in my room until she saw the truth—that she belonged to me. Only me. No other man. Mine.

Fuck.

My cock strained, throbbing, harder than I’d ever been before, balls tight and heavy, primed for action.

I sagged back against the door, shoving a hand in my pocket and palming my shaft. I was contemplating acting like a caveman, territorial bullshit, which meant only one thing. Faye might be my true mate.

Which meant she was more dangerous than any shifter I knew. Hell, more dangerous than if one hundred of the motherfuckers descended on me declaring all out war.

She might be the one created for me, as I was for her. My other half, my missing soulmate.