CHAPTER 4
Styx stood just inside the bedroom door while Dr. Nikki Armani, the fierce, often irritable Wolf Breed expert geneticist and physician completed her examination of the young woman, as the sun began to rise over the cabin he owned within the Wolf Breed community.
He, a Wolf Breed, created to kill and to die painfully, owned a cabin. His name was on the deed. He, who hadn't been created to have even a name that he could lay claim to, claimed this cabin, a vehicle, a bank account and clothing.
And here he stood, watching as a woman slept in a bed he had never brought another woman to, and he found that the possessiveness he had once thought he felt about that bed was noticeably absent.
Styx had detected the low-grade infection from the weeks-old wound on her ankle as he held her in the hotel bed. He'd noticed the scratches on her arms and shoulders, the bruises on her ribs. The proof that the past weeks of running had taken a toll on her health.
She hadn't been eating well, she hadn't slept enough. She was on the point of exhaustion, and if he hadn't taken her when he had, then there would have been no way she could have continued to outrun the Coyotes the Genetics Council had sent for her.
"I wish I could kill every fucking Council member, soldier and scientist that was a part of this," Nikki cursed as she cleaned a particularly nasty scratch on Storme's hip. "Bastards. She's run herself to exhaustion."
"How's she doin', Doc?" he finally asked when the doctor gently tucked a quilt around her shoulders.
"She'll sleep for a while longer." Nikki tossed back the riot of heavy black braids that fell from her head to her shoulders as she rose and turned to him. "I've taken the blood and saliva samples, but until she's conscious I refuse to take the vaginal swabs I need to figure out what the hell is going on with the mating." She cast him a confused look. "I've never heard of a mating as you've described, Styx. I'm not comfortable even guessing the problem here."
Solemn dark brown eyes gleamed within the cafe au lait creaminess of her flesh as she gave a heavy sigh and began collecting the vials of samples and storing them in the heavy-duty medical case she carried with her. The medical case held samples of his own--enough blood, saliva swabs and vials of semen to create a little Styx army, he thought mockingly.
Lord love a Wolf, he'd known this woman was trouble the minute Jonas had given him the assignment to track her. When Nikki had called him back to Haven to inform him of the results of the mating tests she'd done on the girl, she had only confirmed it.
"Is there any way to fix this, Doc?" he asked on a heavy sigh, as he restrained the urge to shift the heavy erection beneath the jeans he'd changed into.
He was so damned hard his cock throbbed in near agony.
Nikki propped her hands on her hips and gazed back down at Storme for long seconds.
"I don't know, Styx," she finally sighed. "Until I do some tests and consult with the other scientists working on this, I hesitate to even guess."
Styx grimaced. "I think I'd rather face a pit of rattlers, Doc, than suffer this much longer."
It was a well-known fact within Haven that Styx hated snakes. Viperous, poisonous bastards, the mountain seemed overrun with them at times.
Styx could think of far better ways to torture himself than with an arousal that refused to relent. Though he couldn't blame it all on the mating heat. Truth be told, he'd stayed hard for the wee lass since the day he'd first caught sight of her.
With all that black hair flowing around her, those wary green eyes searching the shadows where he hid and the weariness in her too somber expression had tugged at him. He'd wanted to hold her even then. To protect her, to ease the pain he could sense just beneath the surface. Hell, what sin was he paying for, he wondered, that had nature playing this little joke at his expense? Hadn't he been a good Wolf? He'd always strived to excel, whether in killing or in loving. Yet still his mate didn't carry his mark, and the Wolf inside him was snarling in impatience.
He'd give his rather impressive canines for that brand to be in place as it should be now. For her silken flesh to be flushed in arousal, the heat of the mating making her wet and eager for his possession.
Storme Montague was his mate. She was his. The one and only woman who completed that part of him that he hadn't known hungered for such a thing.
He hadn't imagined how important it could become until he had tasted her kiss, felt her touch, and found his release in the tight, sweet grip of her silky pussy.
"I can smell your impatience and I'm not even a Breed," Nikki said, accusing him lightly. "I'll tell you what I've told the others. I've never seen mating heat react the same on any two couples. It's an anomaly, Styx. Nature is refining as she goes, and we're just going to have to deal with it. You're mating heat just may be particularly complicated, likely because of your odd genetics." She grimaced.
Complicated didn't come close, he thought with an edge of anger.
"Last I heard, lass, I was a red Wolf mixed with some fine Scots blood. Do you know something aboot my genetics the good scientists neglected to mention?"
Nikki rolled her eyes. "Of course, learning that those genetics come from one of history's greatest warriors shouldn't concern us, should it?"
He winked back at her. "One of history's greatest lovers as well, I've heard."
She snorted at that. "Watch it, Red, or I'll see if I can't mess up those fine genetics for you."
He winked flirtatiously. "You can play with my genetics any day, Doc. When are ye wantin' to start?"
At the moment, he'd much rather tease, flirt, or face those snakes than face the complications of the hard-on throbbing in his jeans.