The Hunger (The Lycans 3)

My foot caught on a root, my body propelling forward from the force. I went down hard, heard something snap, and cried out. The man, beast, whatever the hell he was, roared, and I screamed, tears blurring my vision even more.

I turned over so I was now sitting on the ground, so I could see him coming for me. I knew I’d broken something from the crack, but right now I didn’t feel any pain.

“Oh God.” My voice was barely a whisper, the words hardly carrying in the air.

I tried to scramble back, my heels digging into the muddy ground, my fingers sinking into the earth. But I wasn’t getting any traction. And he kept stalking forward. Never letting up. His eyes trained on me and… glowing unnaturally. Mystically.

“W-What are you?” My voice was nothing but a strangled sound. As I spoke the words, he slowed before stopping. He was only a foot from me, his body so massive it took up my entire view. The longer I stared at him, the more I felt my eyes widen as his body grew right in front of me.

He looked like he was barely hanging on to his control, as if he couldn’t help himself.

I took note of his hands curling and relaxing against his sides, his nails… claws. Over and over, he made a fist and relaxed. His smile was slow, and a choked gasp left me at the sight of his fangs.

Fucking fangs. What the hell?

Oh God.

“What are you?” I asked again but didn’t know if I was asking him or myself.

His grin stayed in place as he growled—yes, growled, like some wild animal. “What am I?” He took another step forward, and despite my fear, despite the terrifying suffocation that claimed me, there was something potent about the way he smelled, something that had my heart racing for another reason.

I’m losing my mind. I’m dreaming. Or maybe I’d died.

“I’m yer mate, and I’m never letting ye go.” His eyes flashed brighter with that inhuman glow, his expression sobering and turning intense and… possessive. “No one will ever take ye from me.”

Then the welcome darkness took over, and I didn't know if that was a blessing or the worst nightmare imaginable.

12

Caelan

“No one will ever take ye from me.”

That phrase ran through my mind over and over again. The truth. Forever.

My little mate had passed out, her fear taking hold on her reality until she succumbed to shock.

I moved toward her slowly, my hand shaking as I crouched beside her and reached out. My chest was rising and falling harshly, as if I couldn’t get enough oxygen into my lungs. This low growl was a constant from me, a sound of proprietary need and pleasure that she was here. Finally.

Her face was relaxed in her unconscious state, her dark hair pulled into a ponytail that was skewed and tangled with dried leaves and twigs from her haste to escape me.

I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and groaning, my entire body tight. Arousal raced through my veins, contracting my muscles, thickening the heavy length of my cock. I felt like a disgusting motherfucker for getting aroused while she lay unconscious, her fear causing her to drift away, her pain the result of me chasing her.

I bit out a curse and snatched my hand back before I could touch her. I wasn’t worthy of that yet. I wasn’t worthy of touching her hair crossing her cheek. And until she came to terms with who and what I was—until she accepted me as her mate with open arms—I’d keep my fucking hands to myself in that sensual way.

I was careful as I picked her up and cradled her in my arms, marveling at her small frame pressed to my massive chest. I’d take her away from here, help her heal… keep her with me until she accepted that I was her mate. I inhaled her sweet scent again, filling my lungs with her. Only her. She caused this tingling in my nose, one that told me there was something different about this female. She was human but… not wholly. But because of my heightened shifter state, because all I could concentrate on was wanting to claim every single inch of her, to seal the Linking Connection, I couldn’t fully comprehend or sift through what that “other” was in her.

It didn’t matter. I didn’t care who or what she was. She was mine, and that’s all that mattered.

I made quick work through the woods, careful to keep from jostling her so she didn’t get injured even more. I kept my senses open to make sure we weren’t being followed. I was thankful she was passed out. It made this easier, made her pain not affect her. But her being out also made her not fight me. I didn’t want to have to throw her over my shoulder kicking and screaming and carry her away like a fucking caveman, some barbarian who refused to give her the independence to let her make up her own mind.