Meet the Last Pack...

Step into the world of the Last Pack, a world where magic has receeded into the shadows of a too-modern future. The strongest werewolves still fight for the future of their packs--but fighting is lonely work without love.

Protecting Their Mate: Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Bundle

Defending Their Mate: Part One

Meet the Last Pack...

As the full moon raises tensions--and appetites--Ashley indulges her wildest fantasies...and discovers what it truly means to belong to the pack. But Blake's control is tested as outsiders descend on the pack's territory, and Ashley discovers that following her heart may be the only way to find her mate.

Ashley's heart longs for one man, but her wolf demands that she test herself against the alpha. Can she settle for a life of never knowing, or will she risk everything for Blake?

Chapter One

Blake couldn't stop moving.

On any other day, he would have already stripped to his skin and given in to the wolf. The moon sang in his blood, and there was no reason he couldn't dance with it before the pack gathered to run together.

No reason except one, and she was currently tucked away with Connor in the library, poring over lore books and learning all the things Blake had planned to teach her. And it didn't matter that the other pack couldn't find them. It didn't matter that Connor could be plenty dangerous in his own right, and that Mac, Jud, and Lucas were all nearby.

Blake couldn't leave her. Not even to run.

So he chopped wood instead. Not exactly a useful way to fill his time, since they already had more than they could use in a month, but it took concentration. And it made his brooding less obvious.

He heard the footsteps crossing the yard, but the last thing he expected was for Mac to jerk the ax out of his hands mid-swing.

He was just frustrated enough to take it as a challenge. Whirling, he bared his teeth in a snarl. "What."

Mac dropped the ax to the ground with a thump. "We need to talk."

He didn't want to talk. He wanted to fight, hit something or someone, and Mac was a target who could take it. But he was pack, too, and the concern in his eyes trumped Blake's frustration. It would be easy to shut him down, brush him off. Blake was strong enough to do it.

Which was why he couldn't. "Let's go for a walk."

They fell into a pattern—a loop around the barn, then back toward the lodge—before Mac finally spoke. "I don't like it. And it's not just because they're assholes. They're playing at something, this other pack."

Connor had already told them everything, but Connor's sharp mind still fixated on human nuance. He could tease apart the twisting turns of a person's unspoken motivations, but if the other wolves had a female...

It didn't matter how corrupted by proximity to the outside world they might be. It wasn't human instinct that would be driving them. "Tell me what you saw."

"A bunch of posturing dickheads," Mac grumbled. "They kept the girl out of sight—and they've got to have one, because the alpha smelled like he'd been rolling in her fucking clothes for a week. Way too much, you know? Not in heat, but definitely female wolf."

Blake flexed his fingers. "You met in neutral territory. You think they brought her?"

"Yeah, I do."

Fucking hell. Blake couldn't think of a single damn reason he'd bring Ashley to a meeting like that, exposing her to wolves who could be a danger, dragging her to the heart of a potential fight. Maybe if he didn't have a safe place for her to be. But that was the whole fucking point, the reason they'd fought for years to build this place. You didn't claim what you couldn't protect.

But that was the most harmless explanation. He eyed Mac again, taking in his tension, the hard set of his jaw. "What else did you see?"

"One of 'em was sporting a brand-new eye patch, and he didn't look like a pirate or a James Bond villain." Mac rolled his neck and stretched his shoulders. "If someone was coming after me, I'd sure as hell go for the eyes. Doesn't mean it was the girl, but..."

But it didn't mean it wasn't. As Blake knew all too well, mating was a tricky enough prospect when the female was willing. Taking one by force simply didn't work. Trying was a good way to lose a hand. Or your dick.

Or an eye.

Two sets of instincts clashed. There were so few mature female wolves. Every one was precious—and in danger. Oh, most of the feral bastards out there would bide their time for a while. No use ruining their chances for a real mate, after all. But when those chances dwindled to nothing...

She couldn't fight them off forever.

They needed to get that sorry excuse for a pack into their territory. Verify the girl's safety. Eliminate any threats to it. It would have been a simple decision a month ago. None of them would have hesitated.

The girl was precious, but Ashley was theirs.

His.

And she wouldn't appreciate his hesitation. He didn't have to ask her to know that. She'd be furious this was even a question, enraged that they hadn't mounted a rescue mission already. So maybe his instincts weren't in conflict after all. If he sacrificed someone else to protect Ashley, he'd lose her.

"I'll talk to Lucas," he promised, squeezing Mac's shoulder. "We can get them out here in a few days. And if they're trouble..."

"We make them go away," Mac finished quietly.

It was how Blake knew these wolves were stupid. Maybe they thought they were clever, wrangling an invitation to a real pack's territory. But if they were looking for secrets, they'd only discover one: how easy it would be to make them disappear for good.

Chapter Two

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Ashley wasn't afraid of the full moon.

She stood on the second-story deck outside her bedroom, her gaze riveted to the soft white glow peeking through the bright blue of the afternoon sky. It had risen early, and she could feel it caressing every inch of her exposed skin.

Strip, it whispered. Change. Run.

Bask.

She'd heard those whispers before. But now, surrounded by the rest of her new pack, she didn't have to fear them. She could let go, listen and obey. Celebrate the feral strength thrumming through her veins.

Oh, how she wanted to. Needed to.

Jud appeared below her, striding naked across the lawn without an ounce of self-consciousness. Every muscle in his long, lean frame flexed as he paused and turned, shielding his eyes to stare up at her.

His smile held a distinct edge. Heat, the same kind flowing through her. "What are you still doing inside?"

"I don't know." Waiting, maybe, but for what? "Is it time?"

"You know it is." He crooked his fingers, his grin widening. "Time to play."

A delicious invitation, and clothes didn't belong. Ashley unbuttoned her oversized shirt and slipped it from her shoulders. It slid over her skin, eliciting a shiver, and pooled around her feet.

Behind her, someone groaned.

The rough noise prickled heat up her spine, so familiar and intimate that she knew immediately who it was. "Blake." Instead of turning, she clutched the railing in front of her and looked back over her shoulder.

He crossed the space between them and gripped the wood, his big hands framing hers, his arms caging her in. He still wore jeans slung low on his hips, but he'd discarded his shirt, and his skin blazed against her back. "Are you ready?"

Endless possibilities, and Ashley wanted them all. She arched against him with a soft moan. "Yes."

"Hey," Jud called. "I'm sure we'd all have fun watching, Blake, but it's her first full moon with the pack. Let her run a little before you catch her."

Blake's chuckle tickled her ear. "You won't be easily caught, will you?"

Words weren't enough. She lifted one hand to his forearm and scratched her nails slowly across his skin.

He growled. "Harder."

"Mmm, no." Not that simple, not tonight.

"So defiant." He eased closer, his muscles flexing against her. "I like it. Makes me want to spank you until you're sweet again."

The urge to melt into him almost overwhelmed her, but there was something deeper than desire pulsing through her now. "We have to run. I have to, Blake."

"I know." With one last kiss to her temple, he straightened and tugged on her hand. "Come on. Your pack's waiting."

Her pack. The truth of the words flashed through her like a clap of thunder—she wasn't alone, she knew that much. But what struck her just then, in that wild, euphoric moment, was the realization that she never would be again.

Ashley tore free of Blake's grasp and hurried down the stairs. His footfalls followed close behind, and she'd only taken two steps toward Jud when Blake swept her up with a growling laugh. "That was barely even trying. I think you like getting caught."

His desperate intensity from the night before had vanished, replaced by lighthearted teasing, and some of the tension coiling in Ashley's stomach eased. "As much as you like being disobeyed."

Jud laughed and slapped Blake's shoulder. "Figured you out awful quick. Smart girl."

Blake bared his teeth and snarled, but even that was playful and relaxed. Ashley's feet hit the ground, but Blake kept an arm around her as he bumped his shoulder against Jud. "Watch it, smartass."

The laughter was a warm breeze, driving away the chill. "Where are the others?"

"Probably already running," Blake replied, rubbing her hip before releasing her. "Mac and Connor anyway. Lucas might be with them. But we'll all meet up in the clearing. You know the one."

She blushed. From the inflection in his voice, he could only be talking about one place. "I remember."

"So do I," Jud murmured. He took two steps back and crouched to plant one hand on the ground. "I'll meet you two there."

Energy crackled through the air, lifting the fine hairs on Ashley's arms as Jud shifted. He made it look so damn easy, like his two forms were mere steps from one another instead of separated by a chasm, a lifetime of fear and shame.

Envious, Ashley dropped to the ground as he shot off toward the woods. "I'd give anything for that," she whispered.

"Practice." Blake touched her hair, his fingers tugging through the strands. "Connor goes out early because it's still hard for him. He doesn't like for other people to see how much, so Mac helps him through it. You're not like that, sweetheart. Your body wants to shift. You just have to learn to let it."

"It's different like this," she struggled to explain. "The moon..."

He gave her time to complete the thought. When she couldn't, he stroked her hair again. "It pulls," he said slowly. "I can't remember not knowing how to follow...but I guess it could tug you off balance."

"It's not that." The sheer power of it had never been more tangible, sliding over her skin like a thousand seductive little caresses. "I'm not frightened. I just...want to be enough for it all."

"Oh, sweetheart." He knelt beside her and tilted her chin up until she met his eyes. "If you were any more, you'd be killing us. Have a little mercy."

Her heart stuttered before resuming a harder, almost painful beat. She was naked in the grass, anxious and worried, but the way he looked at her made the moment perfect. She wanted to fold her fingers around it before it slipped away.

So she kissed him, one soft brush of her lips over the corner of his mouth before she pressed her cheek to his. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now close your eyes." When she obeyed, he ran his hand down her back. "And give in."

It was just like before—his hands on her skin, distracting her long enough for the aching knot of magic to unfurl deep inside. And once it started, it moved fast, thundering through her. Sweeping away the last bits of rational thought, the human words she kept stumbling over.

Ashley broke free with a short, low yip and circled Blake, watching as he peeled off his pants.

He kicked them away and smiled as he sank his fingers into her fur. "Look how beautiful you are. Always."

She snapped her teeth shut an inch from his arm.

His hand trailed down, curling across her throat in careful warning. "You can nip, but I'll nip back."

In her human form, she might have whimpered, but not like this. A growl rumbled up in her chest, one she knew he could feel, and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back, baring her throat to him.

He stroked it softly, making a low humming noise that vibrated in her bones. Magic followed, a prickle washing over her, and then Blake was gone and a huge, familiar wolf loomed over her.

No more words. But they didn't need them. Ashley swayed closer, bumping her shoulder against the warm bulk of his—and then ran.

The brush crackled underfoot as she dove through it, moving too fast for the shifting leaves beneath her paws to trip her. The trees bent together above her, their branches thick enough to block out the fading sunlight.

Ahead of her, a wolf howled. A second voice lifted from the west, followed closely by a third, and then Blake, low and loud and so close behind her.

She raised her voice to join with theirs. She was still howling when the trees opened up and spilled her into the clearing.

Lucas stepped forward. It had to be him—huge and sure, with thick gray fur that grew darker where it framed his piercing eyes. He watched her, unmoving, until instinct guided her to cross the space between them. She dipped her head just under his, nuzzling the spot beneath his jaw, and he greeted her with a soft noise that wasn't quite a growl.

Leaves crinkled to her left, and she knew it was Connor as soon as the tan wolf danced into the clearing. He raced up to Blake and nipped at his tail. Blake whipped around, teeth bared, and Connor rolled quickly onto his back.

A challenge mitigated by instant submission. Ashley laughed, and, though her new body turned the sound into little more than a huff, she knew from the gleam in Connor's eyes that he understood.

They all did.

Another wolf slammed into her, bearing her to the ground. Mac, whose teeth grazed her ear for a mere heartbeat before he rolled away, back to his feet. Daring her to chase.

So she did. They tumbled through the grass, never quite biting or gouging, until Jud's familiar form crashed into Mac, tumbling them both tail over nose. Before she could follow, Blake knocked into her, using his weight to carry her to the ground.

He held her there. Intensity vibrated off him in waves, so strong that Ashley reacted out of the same instinct that had been guiding her—she whimpered, too low for anyone else to hear. Only Blake.

In response, he rubbed his nose against hers.

Her nervousness evaporated. The power of the moon surged through her, but she didn't have to be anything else to deserve it, to do it justice. All she had to be was Ashley.

As if he heard the thought, Blake backed off and nudged her to her feet. Jud and Mac were still tussling—less gently than before, but still play. Connor crept up to Ashley's side, tail low as Blake huffed and nipped at his flank.

Connor caught Ashley's eye, and she understood his expression on a gut level, beyond words. Tease him. Because Blake was so serious, even now.

She swished her tail across his nose, and he pinned her with an exasperated look that all but screamed, not you, too.

With his tail wagging wildly, Connor tried to pounce. Blake melted out of the way, leaving Connor to land gracelessly on a pile of leaves. His paws slipped as he scrambled upright and gave Ashley a wolfish grin.

Play. She poised to launch herself at him, only to stop short when Lucas threw his head back with another howl. The sound slid over her, warm and comforting, even more when the others joined him, one by one.

She did, too. By the time the howls died away to echoes through the mountains and valleys, the mood had changed. It was still relaxed, easy, but there was an undercurrent of urgency, too.

Run. Lucas was the first to spring away from their loose cluster in the clearing. Ashley was the second. She plunged blindly into the brush, curious anticipation twisting in her belly as she wondered whether Blake would follow.

Chapter Three

He held back.

Somewhere deep inside, she knew it. He could have caught her, but he let her run instead, run until she was nearly stumbling, until her sides were heaving with every labored breath.

And when she finally fell, she sprawled to the grass in her human form—exhausted, but with the change still thrumming in her blood.

He dropped next to her as a wolf and nuzzled her chin, his breath tickling her ear. She felt the magic as his form shimmered, his pained grunt disappearing in a groan as he sank his face into her hair. "You smell like home."

She shook her head and reached for him, licking his shoulder as he stretched out over her.

He groaned again and grazed his teeth across her jaw. "How are you and the moon doing, sweetheart? On good terms?"

The night sky was dark now, and the silver light of the full moon cast both shadow and glow over them. "I need you."

"Do you?" He braced his elbows on either side of her head and rocked his hips, sliding his cock against her. "I think you need something, all right."

The fire beneath her skin blazed hotter.

"Look at me."

Powerless to resist, she dug her nails into his sides and met his gaze.

He lowered his body just enough to let her feel the solid weight of him pressing her down into the grass. "What do you need, Ashley?"

"Y—" The word dissolved into a moan. "You."

"Sweet little liar," he murmured. His fingers twisted in the wild strands of her hair, tugging at her scalp. "You want me, but I'm not what you need. Not tonight."

No, tonight was about something else—instinct, impulse. Being surrounded and overwhelmed by sheer, primal sensation. "What about you?"

He dragged his tongue over her lower lip before sucking it between his. His teeth scraped it, forcing a shiver through her as he growled softly. "Tonight, I need to give you everything."

She licked her lip and shivered again at the taste of him lingering on her skin. "And everyone?"

"Everyone."

Her body throbbed at the images it elicited—skin on skin, damp and hot, rough hands and soft lips all over her. "Blake..."

"All of us," he whispered against her mouth. "That's what you need. And all you have to do is ask for it."

For one paralyzing eternity, she couldn't. But his breath blew against her skin—warm, reassuring—and she understood the truth. If there was ever a time when she could let go, really let go, it was now.

Slowly, she opened her eyes. "All of you," she whispered. "Tonight, I want to fuck all of you."

He rocked to his knees and rolled smoothly to his feet, dragging her up with him. Before she could catch her breath, he had his fingers curled beneath her thighs, hoisting her up so she had to wrap her legs around his waist to keep her balance.

"How?" he rumbled, shifting his grip to her ass as he started to walk. "Tell me."

"H-how?"

His eyes glinted in the moonlight, dark and hungry. "How do you want us? One at a time, or all of us, fighting to touch you? Fighting to make you come on our fingers and mouths and cocks?"

"I—" Her body was flush against his, and every step rubbed her pussy against the hard muscles of his stomach. She could barely breathe, much less form coherent sentences, so she swallowed hard and tried to focus. "Rules. There have to be rules for this sort of thing."

"You're a female in heat, sweetheart. The only rules are the ones you make."

His voice echoed in her ears, all the things he'd told her, the promises he'd made after that first time. About Lucas's intensity and Jud's ropes. About Mac's touch melting into Connor's because they were always, always together.

She'd tasted most of it already, but not all at once. Not like this.

A flash of utter mischief overtook her, and she smiled wickedly. "I'm in heat," she agreed, leaning in until her lips brushed his ear. "Naked and burning. Wet. You can't tell me you'd all politely wait your turn."

"We would if you wanted us to." His fingers flexed, rubbing her against his stomach. "But I knew from the first morning you wouldn't. When I had my fingers buried in your pussy and you squeezed so tight with every word."

It didn't seem to bother him. Maybe he wanted it too, not just for her wild, incandescent pleasure, but for the satisfaction of knowing she could gleefully fuck everyone else...and still want to end the night in his arms. "You promised me ropes, but I think I like hands more. The harder, the better."

They broke free of the trees, and the golden light from the huge lodge windows spilled across his face. "Tell the truth, Ashley," he said lowly. "You want us to fuck you. Even when you squirm, even when you swear you can't come again..." His hands tightened, and he dragged her higher, until her head was higher than his and he could turn his face and close his teeth on the curve of one breast.

She gasped as anticipation sizzled through her. "I want it," she confessed. "Even when I don't think I can take it. Because I trust you."

As if to reward her for her words, he closed his lips around the tight point of her nipple, sucking it into the heat of his mouth. She clung to him, her head bent to his, as he made his way toward the house through memory alone.

The big doors to the great room had been thrown wide to the outside air, and she could hear voices inside, the low murmur of the pack. Warm hands slid over her hips before they reached the house, and Connor's familiar scent curled around her as lips brushed the center of her back, between her shoulder blades.

The simmering heat flared, the fever rushing through her with an intensity that made her shake. Even so, it was easier now that she knew she didn't have to fear the need twisting her into knots. Her pack would ease it.

Blake would ease it.

Connor's fingers stroked higher, teasing across her waist. Blake's grip tightened, and he growled against her breast, a sound full of low warning.

Connor froze, and Ashley threaded her fingers through Blake's hair with a soothing noise.

After a tense moment, Blake pressed her against Connor, edging them both back across the threshold. Connor's breath tickled her skin, a shiver that turned into a shudder as his tongue traced a hot line up her spine.

With her body crushed between them, Blake didn't need to hold her up. He sank his hand into her hair instead and dragged her mouth to his.

And then they were sinking, all the way down to the furs and plush cushions strewn on the floor. Connor's tongue never left her skin, just blazed a path up her neck to her ear. Then Mac was there, growling as he nudged him aside and sank his teeth into her ear lobe.

Blake's hand tightened in her hair, turning her head. She tried to suck in a ragged breath, but Mac cut it off with a hungry kiss, devouring her mouth as his fingers slid down over her belly, between her thighs.

"Lay her back." The low voice rumbled around her, over her, and Ashley moved without thinking, her body already reacting to the sheer magnetic strength in Lucas's growl.

They followed her, bare skin surrounding her, wrapping her in warmth and comfort even as her body burned for more. She reached out, her fingers skimming blindly over hard muscle, the soft inside of someone's elbow, the eager jut of a ready cock.

But it was Blake who loomed over her, finding her hands and dragging them up. His fingers spanned both of her wrists so easily, pinning them in place above her head. She struggled, not from a desire to free herself, but to feel his grip strengthen, squeeze just shy of pain.

He stared down at her with those incredible blue eyes, shadowed now with lust. His free hand settled across her throat, more promise than warning, and his thumb rubbed the spot just beneath her ear. "Open for your pack, sweetheart. Let us take care of you."

She didn't decide to obey, just moved automatically. Instinctively. She arched her hips, rubbing against him as strong hands clutched her, fingers biting in as they pulled her legs wide. Opening her, just like Blake said. They caressed the inside of her ankle, the back of one knee. The soft, secret spot at the top of her thigh.

Ashley whimpered and arched again, sharply this time, and Blake made a soothing noise against her cheek before kissing his way to her ear. "Trust me, Ash. I know what you can take. And tonight, it's so much more than you know."

A bearded cheek brushed her hip, and Jud rumbled her name against her skin. A heartbeat later, two wide fingers teased between her pussy lips, brushed her clit, and thrust inside her.

Blake lifted his head to study her face, his focus absolute. More hands joined Jud's, stroking her thighs, her belly. Someone's teeth closed on her hip, sparking pain that melted into pleasure when callused fingertips grazed her clit.

They were touching her, tasting her, claiming her, but Blake was the one protecting her.

"More," he rasped, already pressing harder against her wrists, as if he knew the resulting touches would have her twisting up and away. "I don't care how tight her pussy feels, she wants more."

Mac cursed, rough and low, as he palmed her breast and lifted the taut peak to his mouth. He licked her nipple, then sucked it to a stiff, aching point. Finally, he bit her, a hard nip that flashed pain and something much, much darker through her.

"How much more?" he asked, his voice gone silky. Wicked.

Blake didn't release Ashley's gaze. "How many fingers, Jud?"

"Two," the wolf replied hoarsely, pumping them so deep that Ashley shuddered and almost tried to jerk away. "Damn, she's already squeezing me hard."

Blake followed the same path again with his thumb—from her shoulder to her ear, soft and calming and so gentle compared to the implacable command in his voice. "Two more, Mac. Fuck her hard."

Mac groaned, but the fingers he gave her were in her mouth, sliding between her lips and over her tongue. "You heard the man, honey." He pulled them free and trailed them down her body, between her breasts, down until they clashed with Jud's. "Hard, just the way you like it."

For one eternal, agonizing moment, she thought he wouldn't do it. Then he did, fucking his wet fingers into her as Jud withdrew. She clenched her teeth, waiting, but they kept up the rhythm for several thrusts, taking turns, before finally driving into her at the same time.

It hurt, and it was so good she tried to break free, push away. But Blake released her throat and splayed his fingers across her abdomen, holding her down, forcing her to feel the slow, burning stretch.

"Look at me," he growled, his fingers biting into her flesh when she twisted again. When she obeyed, he gentled his touch and licked her bottom lip. "Good girl."

"I can't," she panted helplessly. "Blake—"

"Ashley." Another growl, this one so close to her wet, aching flesh that the vibrations rocketed through her. She looked down and saw Lucas leaning over her, his mouth a mere inch away.

He held her gaze and slowly drew his tongue over her exposed clit.

She shuddered, but Blake held her tight, pinning her hands and hips, forcing her to ride every flicker of sensation. From the deep pressure of the fingers inside her to the wet lash of Lucas's tongue, Blake was there, in all of it, holding her. Soothing her.

Then Connor bent his head, sucking the tight point of her nipple between his lips, between his teeth. And it was too much, all of them on her, the pleasure and the pain tangled up and pushing her toward something overwhelming.

"Let go," Blake whispered against her cheek. "I have you. I'll always have you."

It was more than a reassurance, pretty words to put her at ease during a moment of excruciating intimacy. No, he said it like it was truth, immutable and eternal. No matter what happened, he would always be there.

"Blake." She said again, though she barely recognized her own voice, strained and fraught with tension.

"It's okay, sweetheart." His voice stayed soft and comforting, even when her hips tried to jerk and his hand held her ruthlessly in place. "You can come. It won't be over."

No, it wouldn't. From the intensity of their gazes to the rough fingers fucking into her to Blake's hands locked around her wrists, one thing was clear—they wouldn't stop until she was screaming, sobbing, beside herself with pleasure.

She dragged in a rough breath, but it caught in her chest as ecstasy seized her. So sharp it bordered on pain, and so sweet it wracked her entire body. She rocked against Blake's restraining hand, riding their fingers, riding the sweet swell of pleasure as it crested and broke, taking her along with it.

And then his hand vanished, replaced by someone else's, she didn't know or care whose, not with release still shaking through her, not until Blake seized her jaw and pressed his forehead to hers. "Don't stop," he ordered roughly. "Don't let her come down."

"I don't think she could," Lucas rumbled, then licked her again, a fast, savage flick that left her shuddering all over again. "It's a pretty view, watching Jud and Mac fuck your hungry pussy like this."

Ashley squeezed her eyes shut and moaned, clenching her fingers as another knot of ecstasy unraveled inside her. He had to be able to see every tiny reaction, every clench and flutter as her pussy contracted helplessly around their fingers.

"You know what he's talking about." Mac licked the inside of her knee, his dark laugh blowing hot on her wet skin. "You're still sweet—you'll always be sweet—but you're not so innocent anymore, are you, honey?"

No, not innocent. Not even close. The fever wouldn't let her be, not so long as it still burned, a need that could never be sated by touch alone, though it was easier to ignore it—for now. She was surrounded by men who were just as hungry, who would never leave her wanting. Even Connor had stretched out beside her, his mouth hot on her nipple as he alternated long, fervent sucks with short, quick lashes of his tongue.

It soothed her just enough to open her eyes and seek Blake's blistering gaze. "You're the only one not fucking me."

"Is that what you think?" He rubbed his thumb over her lip before edging it between her teeth to stroke her tongue. "I'm the only one fucking you. I'm the one who decides how many fingers and how deep. How fast. Where."

All the shameless things that stole her breath, things that probably should have been Lucas's decisions—except that he seemed to understand, like all the others. Even as they touched her, soothed her, wanted her...

It would always be Blake.

His teeth grazed her earlobe, nipped just hard enough to make her hiss in a breath. "When they work their fingers into your ass, that'll be me. Because I remember what you want, all those sweet, dark things you can't even say until you're about to come because you're scared I won't want you to have them. But when they're fucking their cocks into your pussy and your ass and your mouth, it'll be me, giving you everything."

She was still shivering, shuddering, trapped between the neverending orgasm he wanted her to have and a deeper, more visceral hunger. "So give them to me."

Blake's wet thumb lingered on her lips, and he let her tremble through another dizzy pulse of pleasure before lifting his head. "She's ready, Mac."

"For what?" Mac grinned, slow and wicked, as he undulated his fingers inside her.

Before now, Blake would have made her say it. Would have forced her to form the words, to ask for it, to beg for it, every explicit request confirming her need and her trust.

He'd been learning her. But now he knew her, and she didn't have to beg. She didn't even have the option. He pushed two fingers between her lips this time, fucking them into her mouth as his thumb urged her jaw open. "Start slow on her ass. She's too close to the edge."

"I thought you liked having her there." But Mac moved slowly, in spite of the words. The world spun in dizzy, lightheaded circles as he picked Ashley up and slid behind her, beneath her, until he was lying on the floor with her back against his chest, his arms around her. "Con?"

Connor was already looming above her, every movement smooth and coordinated. Mac and Connor knew exactly how to manage a woman between them, who would steady her, who would hold her legs, who would stroke a quieting hand down her side when the first broad fingertip slicked against her.

But it wasn't just them this time. Jud was there, shivering pleasure through her as he plied her nipple between his thumb and forefinger. And Blake was always there, still above her, still drawing her gaze back to his as Connor worked the first inch of his finger into her ass.

She licked her lips, struggling to keep still as the exquisite sensation sang through her like the ripples of a pebble dropped into water, as Mac framed her hips with his big hands. His thumbs traced lazy circles on her flesh, digging in just enough to send the ripples arcing wildly as her brain tried to process everything that was happening.

Impossible.

Every time she got a grip on it, everything changed. Jud pinched harder. Connor's finger sank deeper. Blake stroked a hand down the center of her body, and finally, finally lower, caressing her clit with a familiar rhythm.

Pleasure thundered through her, and she dropped her head back against Mac's shoulder as Connor pushed a second finger against her ass—coaxing, stretching. Demanding that she open up and take it.

Blake planted a hand on the floor next to Mac's head, leaning over them both as his fingers kept her balanced between the pleasure of his touch and the ache of Connor's. "Stay with me, sweetheart. Don't go getting all fuzzy on us yet."

"How do I stop?"

"Look at me."

Ashley whimpered.

"Ashley." He gripped her chin again, his fingers wet from her body and rubbing the taste of her against her lips. "Look at me."

She couldn't not, and what she found when her eyes met his made the rest of the room fade just a little. He had her, no matter what happened or how wild it drove her, and he wouldn't let her fall too fast or far.

He pressed the pad of his thumb against her lips, not trying to edge between them. Just an indulgent pressure as he studied her face. "It's okay, Connor," he said finally. "She can take it. No more making her wait. Not tonight."

Connor pulled his fingers free, and Mac's groan rumbled against her back. She felt the hard length of his cock against her inner thigh, along with stroking fingers wrapped around it, almost as if—

She dragged in a shocked breath, and Blake laughed hoarsely. His grip shifted, fingers plunging into her hair so he could drag her up head up. "Connor's not just getting you ready."

She watched, spellbound, as Connor's slick fingers pumped the shaft of Mac's cock, then teased over the glistening, engorged head.

Connor looked up, meeting her eyes with a feral smile. "If you could see how wide her eyes are, Mac..." He gripped the man's shaft, dragging another groan from behind her, and guided the tip to nestle against her ass. "But I bet they can get wider."

Mac breathed a curse and flexed his hips, easing into a gentler thrust before Ashley had a chance to protest the invasion. He went slowly, so slowly that by the time the blunt head of his cock finally breached the trembling ring of muscle, she was grinding down against him, trying to take him deeper. Faster.

Then he arched up, driving into her, and she couldn't have protested, even if she wanted to, because all she knew was heat, lust. Animal need.

Then Blake turned her head, forced her to meet his eyes again...and pushed two thick fingers into her pussy.

Ashley gritted her teeth, trying desperately to hold back the moan that exploded out of her. She moved her hips fitfully, fucking against his fingers. He let her, made her, his thrusts too shallow to pacify her, his thumb barely skimming her clit only to retreat when she gasped and pressed up into his touch.

She braced her hands on the floor and tried to chase the caress, but she couldn't get enough leverage—especially with Mac's hands caging her. "Fuck," she cursed. "Fuck me, please—"

Instead of obliging, Blake withdrew, and she watched as he licked her wetness from his fingers. "You heard her."

She was still staring up at Blake when Jud crawled over her, his body hot and hard, pressing her down against Mac's chest. She was surrounded by blazing skin and anchored by Blake's grip in her hair, even as Jud claimed her mouth in an open, voracious kiss.

She had burned already, through and through, ashes scattered to the wind. But when the realization of what was about to happen finally pierced the haze of pleasure, she gasped into his mouth.

You heard her.

Jud's erection rubbed against her, heavy and stiff, and she wrapped her fingers around his upper arms as the blunt head nudged her pussy, teasing her with the promise of more.

Except it wasn't a tease. Oh, it was slow, agonizing, his control perfect as he flexed his hips and pushed into her a fraction of an inch at a time.

"Hurry," she whispered, perversely eager to be denied.

He didn't disappoint her, his handsome face settling into stern lines. "Blake indulges you too damn much," he muttered, but his voice held amusement and affection and something better—a tight strain, a tremor in his perfect control.

And she wanted it. Oh God, she wanted it, so much that she clenched around him from the undeniable surge of longing that raced through her.

"Fuck, Ashley." Jud growled against her chin and drove deep, cutting off her breath. Her thought.

The sounds brought her back—raw, animal, slick and wet as Jud began to move. Every thrust pushed her up, off of Mac, and with every retreat she sank onto him again, deeper and deeper.

And then, just when she'd settled into the rhythm, Blake sent her spinning again with his fist in her hair, fixing her in place as he closed the other hand around his cock. "I told you I'd be here next time."

The hazy memory snapped into sharp focus, and she whimpered again. "Yes. Always."

His gaze dropped to her lips. "Are you going to take all of us?"

There was no room for shock or modesty, not here. Not with her entire body burning. Ashley licked her lips and strained toward him. "Blake—"

Mac braced his hands on her shoulders and lifted her. "That's it, honey. Show him that tongue."

Blake pressed his cock to her mouth...and waited.

A snarl rumbled through her.

Wildness flashed in Blake's eyes. A slip in that rigid self-control, quickly corrected—but not quickly enough. His hips were already flexing, pushing forward, driving between her lips.

It was everything she needed—almost. She had no idea she'd moved until she was clutching at Blake's hip, her fingers digging in to the firm swell of his ass, urging him closer.

"Ashley—" he rumbled, the warning clear. But he gave in, gave her just what she wanted. He rocked, stopping just before he pushed into the back of her throat. She gripped him harder, her nails biting into his skin, and he groaned and thrust again, quick and demanding and deep enough to choke her.

She couldn't breathe, but breathing was nowhere near as important as chasing this feeling. There was something tugging at her, something deeper than thought, beyond the pleasure. Ashley started to give in, to reach for it—

Then Mac moved beneath her, no longer content to lie still inside her. He drove up, one hand bracing her shoulders and the other wrapped around one, holding her in place. He and Jud fucked her with their cocks the way they had with their fingers, back and forth, until she couldn't separate one from the other.

Her skin was too tight. Sweat sheened her body as she worked Blake with her mouth, sucking harder before backing off. A different kind of push and pull, one that shredded his control, bit by bit. His grip got rougher, his groans lower. He chased her mouth when she pulled back, growling when she took him and demanded more.

Connor stroked her cheek, her breast, then slid his hand lower. His fingers circled her clit, rough and quick, wrenching a cry from her already raw throat. Sensation seized tight, shaking her, overwhelming her, so intense that she could barely comprehend it.

Pleasure didn't unfurl in her limbs, it exploded. Blood roared in her ears, almost drowning out the sound of Blake's voice, encouraging her to let go. Even the cries torn from her sounded distant, far away from the shattering bliss.

And it didn't stop.

Chapter Four

Telling her to let go was hard enough. Finding the willpower to let go of her, on the other hand...

If it had been anyone other than Connor, Blake might not have been able to do it. Jud and Mac scraped his nerves raw with their grasping hands and dark hungers, but Connor was bright eagerness and ready obedience. Not a threat. Never a threat.

Ashley shuddered through another peak, gasping and writhing, already fighting Blake's grip in her hair, trying to slide her lips around his cock again.

He couldn't let her, because he couldn't think when she got her tongue on him. He couldn't focus when she moaned around him and dug her nails into his hips, all but commanding him to thrust harder, deeper. And what she wanted, he would give—especially tonight, with the moon running hot and potent in his blood.

She wanted to be overwhelmed, claimed and adored and devoured. To protect her, he needed a clear head. So he tightened his fingers in her hair and turned her until she could see Connor hanging back, naked longing on his face. "He won't take unless you tell him to."

Her answer was unintelligible, a trembling, needy noise he could understand all too well when she reached out, toward Connor.

It took everything in Blake to open his hand and release her hair.

Connor took over, his hand trembling, his expression ecstatic. Adoration shone from his eyes as he rocked his hips, thrusting into Ashley's eager hands. And then her mouth was on his cock and his head fell back, and Blake understood the other wolf's helplessness all too well.

Connor worshiped Ashley. They all did, even Lucas, who was watching from halfway across the room now, as if being any closer would snap his self-control. But the physical distance didn't matter, because his gaze was rapt, ravenous. Utterly focused on her.

Jealousy and satisfaction wove through Blake's arousal, twisting it into something darker and stronger. The parts of him that were still human reveled in her pleasure, in her muffled cries and desperate moans. In the shivering release that Jud coaxed out of her when he reared up and took over stroking her clit.

She wanted this, so he wanted her to have it. He wanted it to be good.

Good...but not enough.

Mac slid one hand around the generous curve of her hip, over Jud's, pressing the man's fingers harder against Ashley's clit. She shrieked, thrashing between them as another orgasm swept through her on the heels of the last one.

It was too much for Jud. He snarled, his self-control no doubt shattered by the tight clasp of her body. Two rough, unsteady thrusts and he was gone. Ashley moaned, long and low, and even Mac groaned as she melted back against him.

Relief radiated from every line of her face and body, a blissful ecstasy that seemed to roll off of her in waves. The fever, alleviated for the moment, rewarding her for giving in to the most primal drive they had.

But that was all it was, and another icy shard of jealousy melted away. There was still hope. Until her wolf accepted someone else, Blake still had a chance.

Jud dragged her hand to his mouth, pressing a sated, reverent kiss to her palm before easing from her body. Connor trembled, clearly more than eager to take Jud's place but unwilling to overstep.

Blake glanced at Lucas.

For one frozen moment, the alpha looked like he was going to lunge across the room, step in and take what could have been his. Maybe what should have been his. But he only nodded once, sharp and certain.

"Ashley." Her head lolled on Mac's shoulder, so Blake strengthened his voice. "Look at me, sweetheart."

She obeyed with his name on her lips, a sigh and a whisper. "Blake."

The trust in her gaze smoothed away all his sharpest edges. Jealousy didn't exist, not even with Mac—dominant, dangerous Mac—flexing beneath her. He wasn't competition, not the way Jud wanted to be, and Lucas had stepped aside again.

The only thing left was Ashley and the hunger still lurking in her big eyes. Blake smoothed her hair back from her temple and cupped her cheek. "Mac's going to tell Connor just how to fuck you. Are you ready?"

"Ready?" Her soft, lazy laugh slid up his spine like a caress. "Always ready."

It was almost a challenge, one Blake tried to stop himself from answering. She wanted more, faster, harder, rougher—

Maybe the rest of them were right. Maybe he was too damn easy when it came to indulging her darkest hungers. Or maybe he just knew she could take it. More than that, she needed it.

Ashley had suffered a lifetime of denial. Blake would indulge her eight fucking days a week.

Twisting his wrist, he curled his fingers around her throat. "Don't go so damn easy on her this time, Mac. She can come harder than this."

"Hell yeah, she can." Mac cupped the heavy weight of her breasts, pinching her nipples between his fingers. "Fuck her hard and fast, Con. You don't need to bring her up, just keep her there."

Connor, obedient to Mac as always, rolled to his knees and grinned. "What do you think, honey? Should we make Mac lose it?"

There was that laugh again, as her fingers brushed Connor's cheek. "If anyone can, it's us."

He nipped at her fingers with a teasing growl, already gripping his cock. Needing desperately to be touching more of her, Blake hooked his arm under one of her knees and lifted, letting Connor sink deep with his first thrust.

She sucked in a sharp breath and arched. "Oh God."

Mac leaned up and scraped his teeth over the back of her shoulder. "Hard. Don't let her catch her breath."

Connor was already pulling back, as if he was so attuned to Mac that he barely needed the verbal commands. Maybe he didn't at all, and the words were for Ashley's sake. An effective tactic, as Blake well knew, and it worked now.

Her body quivered in anticipation, but only for a few heartbeats. Connor slammed into her, and she muffled another cry by sinking her teeth into her swollen lower lip.

Her whole body swayed as Connor thrust again, even with Mac's hands on her breasts, his arms holding her steady. Blake fought a groan and reached with his free hand to cup her face. Her teeth dug brutally into her savaged lip as she choked on an even louder noise.

Still too restrained. Blake freed her lip and urged her mouth open. "Don't hold it in. Let them hear it, sweetheart."

Ashley bit him, then moaned around his thumb, sharp and sudden. "Don't stop," she pleaded. "Don't—"

"No one's stopping," he promised, gripping her leg more tightly to brace her against Connor's advances. "Connor, give me your hand."

Connor obeyed him as easily as he did Mac, thrusting one hand forward without breaking his rhythm. Blake waited until Ashley was staring up at him, then slicked his tongue over the other wolf's thumb. "Quick and firm," he commanded, pushing Connor's hand back down. "Right on her clit. Now."

Blake knew he'd started when Ashley cried his name—his name—her voice hoarse and tight and quaking.

Mac slammed his head back against the furs beneath him. "Fuck. Fuck."

They wouldn't be able to last for long. The full moon made everything hotter and faster, pushed every desire closer to the surface. Even Mac's steel will had to succumb to the seductive demand of Ashley's needs, all of them so eager to please, all of them giving everything...

As long as they weren't enough. Blake wouldn't even chide himself for that. Guilt over victory was a peculiar human compulsion, one he'd never learned and didn't care to. Connor and Mac could come for her when she came on them...

And when she crawled away, still wanting, still needing, she'd crawl to him.

Mac clutched her closer, and Connor followed, pressing her body closely between theirs. Trapping her. It should have limited their movements to a fierce grind, but they fucked her faster than ever, moving in a smooth concert that faltered when Mac bit her again. Hard, this time, but not hard enough to quiet his tortured groan of release.

Connor followed swiftly behind him, burying his face in Ashley's throat as his movements turned jerky, unsteady. He ground into her one final time, his satisfied noise transcended by her own. Her eyes fluttered, and her hands flexed rhythmically on Connor's shoulders as she fell silent, with only her hitching breaths to betray the pleasure pulsing through her. She stayed that way forever—shuddering, engrossed, totally focused on riding the sensations.

Then she opened her eyes.

Fire. Danger. Challenge. Oh, he'd been wrong. Ashley would never crawl. She'd prowl, stalk. Hunt.

Claim.

Moving slowly, Blake edged back from the tangle of bodies, giving her the space to come for him.

Connor melted away, collapsing to the cushions at Ashley's feet. Mac rolled to his side—still holding her, still inside her—and growled against her ear. "You're just getting started, aren't you, honey. You're not even close to done."

"No." Her hair clung damply to her temples, even to her shoulders, but she looked as hungry as she had out under the moonlight, before any of them had touched her. "Not done."

Mac pressed an open kiss to the side of her neck and grinned before easing away. "Then go."

Ashley moved with every bit of that fire and challenge, stalking across the floor on her hands and knees. Blake's arousal took on a painful edge, and so did the temptation to pounce. He could roll her beneath him before she had a chance to wiggle free, drive into her and revel in her slick heat.

Another night. Tonight, he issued a taunting challenge by curling his fingers around his aching dick and stroking lazily. "Come get me."

She stopped just close enough to dip her head and draw her tongue up the length of his cock, grazing his fingers, as well. Pleasure spiked, and he started to move his hand. But then she climbed into his lap, pressed all those soft, hot curves to his body, and kissed him.

The pack was watching them. Blake knew it on some level, loved it on some level. The rest of him didn't give a shit. She was sweet under his hands, warm against his skin, and wet where she ground against his cock.

He gripped her ass with both hands and dragged her closer, crushing her breasts to his chest. Her kiss turned savage as she ground her teeth against his lips and nipped at his tongue.

A growl rumbled up behind her—Lucas.

Blake's fingers flexed without his permission, his muscles already tensing to spin her away, to pin her to the floor and use his body as a shield to keep everyone else away. Even the alpha. His alpha.

Lucas slid his hands over Ashley's shoulders, threading his fingers through her disheveled hair. "Show him, love," he whispered, dark and fierce. "Show him exactly what you want."

She threw her head back with another snarl, then reached back and wrapped her hand around Lucas's dick. She moved at the same time, shifting her hips over Blake's until the head of his cock brushed between her pussy lips.

"Ashley." Her gaze snapped to his, and Blake bared his teeth in a snarl that was nine parts challenge with just a whisper of heat. "Claim me."

"Yes." She slammed down against him, taking him effortlessly into her tight, clasping heat.

Yes.

Blake tilted his head, seizing control of the kiss. It was the only thing he could control, with her riding him like it was the only thing she ever wanted to do. His blood pounded, his hands shook. He tightened his fingers on her rolling hips and deepened his kiss, licking past her lips, past her teeth, needing to be in her in every fucking way possible.

"He belongs to you." Lucas leaned closer, keeping his mouth close to Ashley's ear as she swayed above Blake. "We all do, sweetheart."

It was the truth. Raw and real, undeniable in this moment. Lucas might be the alpha, but Ashley was their queen.

Blake broke their kiss and pressed his mouth to her racing pulse. "Let me feel it," he groaned. "Let me feel you come."

"No, not—" Her brow furrowed, and she squeezed her eyes shut. "Not yet."

Her sudden uncertainty didn't fit, and neither did the tremor of nervousness. Blake released her hips and cupped her face instead, tugging gently until her forehead rested against his. "It's okay."

"I want you so much," she said thickly. "You can't want something this much and not have it, Blake. You just can't."

But you could—when your life was ruled by instinct and destiny. You could want something you couldn't have. Want something you didn't need. There was no honesty in empty reassurances, even if he ached to soothe her fears.

He could still make a promise, one that slipped through the cracks in honesty. "That won't happen," he whispered, smoothing his thumbs over her cheeks. "I'm yours, for as long as you want me."

She buried her face against his shoulder even as her body picked up a faster, more desperate rhythm, and she scraped her teeth over the pulse pounding in the hollow of his throat.

"That's it." He helped her, only vaguely aware that Lucas was doing the same. Their hands clashed—on her back, on her hips. Guiding, stroking, supporting as she rose toward a final peak. "I'm not going anywhere. As long as you want me." Until you want someone else.

She made a single, stifled noise that almost sounded like his name and clenched around him, her pussy squeezing so tight pleasure almost swallowed him whole. Every one of her muscles was taut and strained, straining, until her quivering melted into shudders that shook him, too.

He had intended to wait, to drive her up one last time, but he couldn't hold anything back. Letting his head fall back, he thrust up into her, driving as deep as he could before release swept him away.

He felt it this time. Something bright and sparking, intangible but undeniably real. Like the whisper of the moon in his blood, like the moment just before he shifted, when his body ached with unfulfilled promise.

She wanted him. Fuck, did she want him. All of the human parts of her, and maybe the wolf, too. But the wolf wasn't sure she needed him, and mating was forever. Wanting would never be enough.

So she slipped from his grasp, leaving him clutching at empty air, shaking at the loss.

Chapter Five

She was so warm.

Ashley snuggled closer to Blake's bare shoulder, deeper into the soft blanket he'd wrapped around her. She was vaguely aware of the dip and sway of his steps as he climbed the stairs, but not curious enough to open her eyes. He was taking her to either her room or his—it didn't matter which, as long as their destination involved exhausted, sated cuddling.

'You still with me?" he murmured as he turned to edge through a door.

"Mmm." She smiled against his skin. "Just don't make me walk."

He chuckled softly. "How about sitting up? A nice warm bath, and then a whole lot of blankets for both of us."

"And sleep. So much sleep."

"All the sleep you want." The world dipped, and the water in her tub sluiced on. Blake settled on the edge of the stone, still holding her against his chest. "And a big damn breakfast tomorrow."

She didn't care about food. All she could think about was the delicious ache in her muscles every time she stretched. A gentle, hopeful peace had enveloped her, a serenity she hadn't felt since the first time the moon had stirred her.

Blake didn't talk again until the tub was full and he was leaning to turn off the faucet. "Come on, sweetheart. In with you."

She caught his hand. "Join me?"

He smiled and lifted their joined hands to his lips. "Anything you want."

Her heart stuttered. Ashley dropped the blanket and climbed into the steaming water. Blake slid in behind her, drawing her close to his chest, his arms wrapping around her. It felt like a stolen moment, the two of them alone in the world.

But they weren't alone. "When will the envoy from the Great Lakes pack be here?"

"Tomorrow afternoon." He settled one hand on her chest, his thumb tracing along her collarbone gently. "I'll probably have to drive out in the morning to meet them. As Lucas's second."

A cold knot formed in her stomach. "You're leaving again?"

"Not for long. Trust me, I'd rather be here, but it's..." He sighed. "Politics, I guess. It has to be me."

Because he hadn't gone out to meet them last time. "I know." She squeezed his hand. "You wouldn't go if you had any other choice."

'Nope. But with something like this, everyone in the pack has a job." He reached for a washcloth, his sudden unease evident in his taut muscles. "Even you."

She kept her voice even. "Oh?"

"They'll bring the girl. They can't leave her unguarded." He hesitated, his hand rubbing soapy, absent circles on Ashley's upper arm. "We don't know anything for sure. But if anything seems off—if she seems scared or upset..."

It sounded so ominous that she twisted in his arms and searched his face, trying to decipher the tension there, whether it was mild worry...or something more alarming. "You think the pack might be holding her against her will?"

"Mac was uneasy." He lifted one shoulder and shook his head. "That doesn't necessarily mean anything. Mac's uneasy around everyone but Connor. And you."

And yet, worry tinged his every word. "Blake, I'm not delicate. You don't have to lie to me."

"All right." He set the washcloth aside and wrapped his arms around her again. "I trust Mac's instincts. If something bothered him, then there's something wrong. That's the only reason we're letting them come here at all."

Ashley sat up straight, sloshing water against the high sides of the tub. She'd been curious about the woman they'd spoken of, that there might be someone else out there just like her, but Blake's revelation turned her curiosity into mounting consternation. "She might be in trouble, and no one's gone to help her yet?"

"It's not that kind of trouble. They won't risk—" He cut off abruptly, his lips pressing into a tight line. "If they have her, it's because they're hoping she'll accept one of them, and you can't force that. So we have time, and it's better to lure them here and take care of it."

"Take care of it how?"

"If she's in trouble?" His eyes were tight now, too. Hard. "However keeps the two of you safest."

"You mean killing them." She barely managed to choke out the words because her throat was so thick with horror and—was that satisfaction?

No, not quite. Peace of mind, maybe, in the knowledge that her pack would do anything to keep them out of harm's way. That they cared about her, of course, but also about the well-being of a stranger who might be in danger.

Blake cupped her cheek, his damp fingers catching on the tangled strands of her wet hair. "We wouldn't let them within a hundred damn miles of you if we weren't ready to kill them if necessary. Doing it here just means less chance of humans fucking it up, or one of us getting hurt."

The possibility hadn't occurred to her, but now the cold knot in her belly shattered, scattering ice through her. "Blake..."

"No, hey." One tug, and he had her back within his embrace. He ignored the water splashing against the side of the tub to fold his arms around her. "Connor's the least dominant one of us, and he's scary in a fight. Jud might as well be a damn assassin, and Mac..." He huffed and held her tighter. "Nothing's going to happen to any of us. We know what we're doing."

She squeezed her eyes shut and let the warmth of his body soothe the roughest edges of her fear. "You can't stop me from worrying."

"Don't make that a challenge," he rumbled, teasing his fingertips down her side. "I won't be able to back down and then we'll die in this tub, having fucked ourselves unconscious."

A joke, meant to make her laugh, but she couldn't. "I'd still worry." She swept her fingers up his arm, trying to memorize the enticing flex of muscle beneath skin. "Especially about you."

"I know."

His words were soft, almost shy. A perfect reflection of the emotion churning inside her. "Do you?"

He was silent for a long time. His fingers kept up their slow caresses, and, bit by bit, he relaxed behind her. "I wish we'd found you sooner, sweetheart, before you went into heat. It's a lot to expect—falling in love in so many different ways, with so many different parts of yourself. Your wolf's barely had a chance to stretch her legs. I'm not surprised she's still running."

It was the closest they'd come to sentimental declarations, and Ashley ached. "If it were up to me—a conscious decision, I mean—"

"Shh." He pressed a warm kiss to her temple. "She'll make the right choice for you, when she's ready. I'm not getting impatient. And I'm not..."

"Not worried?" she teased wistfully.

He chuckled hoarsely. "Mostly, no. You need to explore. You need to know I'm the only one you want forever before you choose. I get it."

"But?"

"But I'm not very good at letting you explore."

She choked on a giggle. "If I had explored any more tonight, I wouldn't be able to stand up for days."

Blake huffed against the back of her neck. "Fine. I'm not good at letting you explore on your own."

"Maybe." But her humor faded all too quickly. "Do you think my wolf is waiting for Lucas?"

"I don't know. I don't even know if it's that simple. You've been with Mac and Connor..." He trailed off, his voice coming back softer. "Maybe you need to give Jud an honest chance."

No cold knot formed this time. Pain spiked in her midsection, razor-sharp and scalding. She turned in Blake's arms, but his expression was inscrutable. "What?"

"Not if you don't want to," he said, each word so crisp and slow that he had to be picking them with care. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. But you don't have to deny yourself for me, either."

It made a strange sort of sense. If her wolf was testing the rest of the pack, looking for the one strong enough, right enough, to be her mate, then why couldn't she feel pulled in different directions when Blake was there? "That's what you meant about not letting me explore on my own."

He nodded once. "Jud steps aside when I'm around. Holds back."

"And you think he might be the one."

"I think he's a good enough man and a strong enough wolf that not knowing for sure might make your choice harder."

Jud couldn't be her mate. He was a lovely man—kind, smart, ruggedly attractive—but he wasn't Blake. "You're right. It wouldn't be fair to any of us to not know."

"If you want," Blake repeated firmly, but in the next heartbeat he was smiling somehow, making it easier for her as he teased his thumb over her tender lips. "Don't forget how much fun you had telling me all the dirty things Connor and Mac did to you. I like knowing they're taking care of you when I can't."

A blush heated her cheeks. "Will Jud be here while you're gone?"

"Mmm." He leaned in, and his kiss was soft. Sweet. Just the brush of his lips over hers, lingering as they traded breaths. "Let him take care of you while I'm gone, Ashley. And then I'll be back. I'll always come back."

And she'd be waiting. "Always."

Chapter Six

Jud adored Ashley. He liked her smiles, her laughter, her eager curiosity. And he loved watching someone get the best of serious, stern-faced Blake, especially now that his friend's scowls seemed more and more rare.

He enjoyed damn near everything about the newest addition to their pack.

Damn near.

The familiar nightmare drove him out of bed just after dawn. His skin itched with the need to shift, to run, but he couldn't. Not today, when Blake might already be gone—and returning all too soon with potential enemies.

Instead, he retreated downstairs to the sadly neglected gym in the lodge's basement. In the early days, they'd spent plenty of time here training. Not to win fights, but to learn how to win them carefully. It took precision and control to take down a human opponent without ripping pieces off him, and they had all needed practice in holding their tempers and pulling their punches.

Not anymore. The fights were few these days, more about relieving tension than money, and a windowless concrete room couldn't tempt them for casual exercise when the woods beckoned. It had been weeks since Jud had set foot across the threshold, and even longer since he'd spent any considerable amount of time working out his frustrations on the heavy bag.

Don't leave, not like this.

Memories of Ellie drove him forward. He'd buried them deep in his subconscious and, for the last few years, they'd stayed hidden. Weeks had gone by without regrets intruding. Months, sometimes. He'd started to believe his own easy smiles and charming deflection.

Stupid. Never fall for your own con.

He ignored the weights and the punching bags and went straight to the chin-up bar. Mindless, repetitive exertion wasn't a cure, but it helped sometimes.

Okay, fine. If you've gotta go, take me with you.

He'd started to dream about her the second night after Ashley's arrival. Nightmares, really, twisted with memories and guilt and secret fears he'd never allowed himself to consider, because he needed to believe he'd made the right choice. That he'd been good.

And maybe he had. That was the hell of it.

Watching Blake with Ashley had ground home a harsh truth, one Jud should have learned after a decade of gleeful thieving. Sometimes the right choice was really the safe choice. And sometimes being good meant risking yourself for someone else.

Jud had no doubts about how far Blake would go to spare Ashley the slightest hurt. He'd sacrifice himself, his safety, his peace of mind. Maybe even his pack. He would shoulder the censure of his closest friends and every last member of his species.

What happens to me after you split?

For Ellie, all Jud would have had to risk was a little temptation, and he hadn't been able to do it. A big, tough wolf...scared off by a desperate girl with a crush.

He was a fucking joke. The kind that wasn't funny.

"Jud?"

A joke haunted by the voice of a girl who didn't even exist anymore.

The door to the gym slammed. "Are you busy?"

Jud froze, mid pull-up, and looked over. Ashley stood there, leaning against the door, watching him.

Shit.

His muscles burned with the effort of lowering himself slowly to the floor. "Sorry. I didn't hear you come in."

"It's okay." She smiled gently, just one corner of her mouth tilting up. "You must have been in another world."

"The past, maybe." He crossed to the shelf full of neatly folded towels—Blake's doing, because he kept things orderly even when no one was using the damn room—grabbed one, and wiped his face. "Did you need something, darling?"

"Just to talk. When you have a minute," she added quickly. "It's not vital, or anything. No big deal."

She was nervous, her words all but tripping over one another, so Jud exhaled slowly and did his best to lock down his own inner turmoil. "I have a minute. I've got all the minutes you want."

She mirrored him, taking a deep breath of her own, her chest rising and falling as she nodded slowly. "Blake said—I mean, he thought it might be good for us to discuss some things."

Goddamn it, Blake. This was a good reminder. Yeah, Blake might do whatever it took to give Ashley what she needed, but he wasn't perfect, either.

He could make mistakes.

Jud looped the towel over his neck and gripped the ends to keep from reaching for her. She was still too skittish—here by choice, maybe, but uncertain and maybe even unhappy about it. "Let me guess. He wants you to cuddle up to me and see if that makes your wolf purr."

Ashley arched one eyebrow. "I'm not here to do what Blake wants. I'm here because he said something that I'm starting to think is true."

"And what's that?"

She took a single step forward, sliding both hands into her back pockets. "You've been holding back. To be honest, I can't tell if you want me or not. My wolf can't tell. And I think maybe that's a problem."

What happens to me after you split?

He gripped the towel harder, and admitted the cowardly truth—he wasn't protecting Ashley right now, but himself. "It's more complicated than just wanting you, honey. Of course I want you."

"It would be okay if you didn't," she whispered. "Mac doesn't. I mean, he does, but he doesn't want a mate."

An escape from his trap presented itself, and he snatched at it without the slightest bit of guilt, only a silent apology to Mac for throwing him under the bus. "Has anyone told you why?"

She blinked. "I didn't think he needed a reason."

"Mating is a pretty strong drive, honey. Wouldn't you need a reason not to give in?"

"I don't know." Ashley shrugged helplessly. "If something doesn't feel right, that's not anyone's fault. It just is."

Jud tossed aside the towel and reached for her. He settled one hand at the small of her back and led her to the benches along one wall. She felt right—sweet and strong, tough and eager. She still whispered to him as compellingly as she had the first time he'd laid hands on her, tempting him with the pleasure to be found in exploring her submission. In all the ways she'd force him to earn it.

He was holding back, but not because it felt wrong, and not out of fear. Not like Mac. "We found another girl before you. Her name was Serena."

"Was?" she echoed, her hand trembling in his.

The story was still painful for all of them. It was no wonder no one had mentioned it to Ashley, even now, when there was no danger of her following Serena's path.

He wrapped his arm around her and tucked her close against his side. "She'd been hurt. She didn't tell us how much, and we didn't understand, not at first..." He closed his eyes, but that only made it easier for the heartbreaking memories to resurface. "She went through her first heat locked in a room. Like you were, only someone was keeping her there on purpose. For weeks, she just...needed. Alone."

Ashley's brow furrowed, and she shook her head. "That's horrible. How could someone survive that?"

They couldn't—not intact. But that had been the half-baked plan, from what Jud had gathered before killing the wolf who kept Serena imprisoned. To wear her down, to make her so desperate she would eventually accept him as a mate.

Instead, she'd shattered into a hundred deadly pieces. "She didn't, in the end. She was...fuck. She was broken. Feral. She almost killed Connor more than once, and tried to kill herself every time she got free."

"What—" A shudder broke through the words, and Ashley wrapped her arms around herself. "What happened to her?"

"She begged for peace. And Mac..." He had been the only one willing to give it to her. It should have been Lucas or Blake, but Mac was the one who recognized her pain and her fear. He was the one who'd already been forced to contemplate that terrible choice every time Connor started to fracture.

"Oh. Oh God." Ashley stood abruptly, clutching her stomach, pain vibrating off her in waves. "Oh my God, poor Mac."

Jud snagged her around the waist and pulled her down, across his lap this time. "I know."

"No one should have to do that, Jud. It isn't fair, and it's not right."

"I know," he said again, burying his face in her hair. Serena's screams had given him a different sort of nightmare. All the failure of not helping her twisted with the guilt of wondering what had happened to Ellie. The first girl he hadn't saved. "What happened to Serena wasn't fair. What happened to you and Connor wasn't, either. The fact that we're dying out and turning into...this. It isn't fair."

"Mac makes a lot more sense to me now." She sniffled, and when she looked at Jud, her eyes were wet and bright. "Thank you for telling me."

Her tears shredded at him. "Mac still worries about Connor, and we worry about them both. But Blake..." He cupped her cheek. "When he found you, maybe it made him think about Serena and how scared she was. He would carve his heart out of his chest and set it on fire before he trapped you."

"Yes." She sounded absolutely certain. "He's afraid of it."

"Because he doesn't see, darling."

"Maybe." She wiped her eyes and tried for a smile. "You've told me about Mac's pain. What about yours?"

He hesitated. Remembered another pair of big brown eyes, another shaky smile. "I didn't see, either."

It was her turn to touch his face. Her smile vanished as she stroked his cheek, his jaw, and slipped her fingers through his beard. "Who was she?"

Someone who had come into his life at the wrong time. Ellie was too smart, too sweet—and too young. He'd promised himself he would go back for her when she was old enough to be sure, to choose him out of something other than infatuation and desperation.

He'd gone back. Too late. "It doesn't matter," he said, closing his eyes again. "For all I know, she's happily mated."

Ashley let him have the lie. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips to his temple with a soft noise of comfort. Bit by bit, the worst of his pain slowly leached away, and he could breathe again.

He could even smile. "Whether I want you or not doesn't mean much," he whispered. "You like me, but you don't need me."

It took her a long time to speak. "I thought I knew what I needed. I know what I want. But something's in the way, and I have to find out what that is. However I can."

Something jagged clicked into place. No, she didn't need him as a mate, but she needed him now. Once. To prove to herself and her wolf that lust could burn bright and hot, but it couldn't provide the steady foundation you needed to build a forever.

He gripped her chin and held her still for a gentle kiss. "I'm going to finish my workout and hit the shower. If you start feeling antsy, come to me. I won't hold back. One way or another, you'll be sure it's not me in the way."

"You promise?"

"I promise." And it was easy. Honest. Wanting Ashley would never be the hard part. The hard part came if he forgot that she could never want him back the same way she wanted Blake.

Chapter Seven

I won't hold back.

The words rang in Ashley's head as she paced her room, the floor cool beneath her bare feet. A warning and a vow, and part of her wanted to push it away, lock it down, never find out. But the rest of her...

The rest of her burned with feral curiosity, strong enough for her to finally understand that Blake was right. Her wolf knew what she wanted, but knowing didn't have the same visceral impact as feeling.

One way or another, you'll be sure it's not me in the way.

She had to feel it, the way she had with Blake, and with Connor. The way she would need to with Lucas.

The fever surged. It had built slowly today, a gradual, mounting pressure that had grown fierce enough to make her bite her lip against a whimper. Her control was slipping, dragging her over the swells from casual, carnal interest into desperate need. Her hands shook, her skin burned, and she almost pitched against the door as she closed her fingers around the knob.

She made her way down the hall, her attention focused on one door, and nothing else. One door, and behind it lay relief.

She didn't even get a chance to knock. She lifted her hand, and the door swung open. Jud stood there as if he'd been waiting for her, but he didn't step aside. He blocked the door with his body until she met his eyes. "Be sure, Ashley."

He was still shirtless, and she couldn't stop herself from reaching out. His skin felt even hotter than hers, and she moaned as she slid her hand down the center of his chest.

He caught her wrist, pinning her hand in place. "I need you to say it, darling. I need you to say yes."

His eyes were mesmerizing, dark with lust and something else. Something even more dangerous. "Yes."

With one tug, he dragged her into the room. His arm locked around her waist, lifting her effortlessly, and he spun and kicked the door shut in one smooth movement.

The air rushed out of her lungs, and she clung to him as he stalked across the room. Then he dropped her on the wide expanse of his bed. "Take off your clothes."

She wasn't wearing much to begin with, just pajama shorts and a tank top. She reached for the hem of the shirt and slowly tugged it up.

Jud watched her silently, with a smile that held none of Blake's usual impatience. His fingertips brushed her collarbone, too soft and fleeting to do more than rouse her hunger, and then he was gone, walking toward the end of the bed. "All of it, Ashley."

She rocked up on her knees and eased her shorts and panties off her hips. "What are you doing?"

He crouched and opened the heavy chest at the foot of his bed. "What I promised. Not holding back."

She watched as he pulled out two leather cuffs and a blindfold. "This is what you like?" The moment the words left her mouth, she felt like an idiot, because Blake had told her as much that very first day.

He likes ropes. He'll tie you up, tie you open. Your legs spread wide, that beautiful pussy exposed.

"This is what I am." Leaving the chest open, he rose and crooked his finger in silent command.

Sliding off the bed was easy. So was crossing the space between them. The hard part was what came next—submission.

Jud slipped his hand into her hair, smoothing the strands back off her shoulders and away from her face before reaching for the blindfold. "Still yes?"

Ashley nodded, then licked her lips. "Still yes."

The soft, dark fabric settled across her eyes, blocking out the room. He tied it at the back of her head, careful not to catch her hair in the knot, and the buckles on the cuffs jangled as he slowly wrapped the first one around her wrist.

"How does it feel?" he murmured, stroking his fingertips up the inside of her forearm before switching to her opposite wrist. "The mating fever."

"Like—" She had to lick her lips again. "Like being hungry all the time, only you're never full or satisfied, no matter what you eat."

He fastened the second cuff into place, binding her hands in front of her. "When are you closest to satisfied?"

She bit her tongue.

Jud tugged on the chain between the cuffs. "Truth, darling. If I ask a question, you answer honestly, or this is over."

Ashley tried not to whimper in protest, but the sound escaped her anyway. "When Blake fucks me."

He rewarded the words by rubbing his hands up her arms, strong and soothing as he coaxed her close to his body. When he took a step backwards, he took her with him, guiding her step by uncertain step into the emptiness in the middle of his room.

Then he let her go.

She wobbled before catching her balance, and his next words came from behind her. "How does he fuck you?"

He knew, of course. He'd been there—more than once—but she answered anyway. "Like he has to," she whispered. "Like he'll never get enough."

"Fast. Impatient." Chain clinked above her, and she shivered as Jud's breath skated over her shoulder. "Lift your hands."

She raised them in front of her.

Jud grasped her wrists and hauled them higher, all the way up until her arms were stretched above her head. The only sound was the chain, rattling again as he fixed it to the cuffs.

She was trapped, her arms raised high, her naked body exposed. Anticipating contact that didn't come.

"Still yes?" His voice came from her right.

Her breath caught in her throat, but she managed to huff. "Will you stop asking me that?"

"No." He touched her again, just the brush of his knuckles between her breasts. "Because I'm going to make you do something Blake never has. Something he can't make you do."

It was difficult to imagine anything she hadn't done, either with Blake or at his urging. "What?"

His touch vanished, leaving her floating in darkness. "Wait."

Her breath was a traitorous thing, coming far too fast now. "For how long?" And for what?

"That depends on you." She could hear his steps, the whisper of his bare feet on the hardwood floor as he circled her. "On what you need, and how much you can take."

Her skin prickled with expectation, tingling from the absence of contact. "How will you know?"

"You'll tell me." His touch returned, this time as a fingertip circling her nipple. "One way or another."

It sounded so ominous, completely at odds with his silky tone, and she opened her mouth to question him further—

His thumb and finger closed tight around her nipple. It wasn't a gentle tease, but a hard pinch that sparked as much pain as pleasure. They swirled together, gliding up her spine. Heating her skin.

The pinch intensified, only now it wasn't just his fingers. Something cool and smooth and hard pressed in on her nipple from either direction, keeping her balanced on the sharp edge between pain and pleasure even after his hands fell away.

She swayed. "What is that?"

"Does it matter?" His lips brushed her ear, then his tongue. One big hand cupped her other breast, his fingers teasing light and soft until she shuddered at the contrast. "I think you like it."

It felt like metal, quickly warming against her skin as the unrelenting pressure drove her fever higher. "Yes."

"Good." The second bit of metal was already warmed from his fingers. He slid it into place around her nipple and tightened it until she hissed in a breath and tried to arch away.

He didn't let her. He held her in place, and his soft growl of warning set her to shivering. "Steady, darling. Trust me."

"Trust you?" The low buzz of pain left her tongue thick and clumsy. "I don't even know what you're doing."

She barely heard the whisper of his footsteps behind her before his naked chest pressed tight against her back. He curled both arms around her, one low across her belly and one crossing between her breasts so that his fingertips rested lightly on her neck. "Do you need to know in order to trust?"

It was so new, she didn't even know the answer. She understood a wolf's instinctive dance of dominance and submission, but that was simple. Physical. If Blake wanted her on her knees and she didn't move fast enough, he would put her there. If Lucas wanted her to bare her throat to him, he could force it.

Something about Jud's quiet, calm voice, so unlike his usual ease and charm, told her this was different. That his satisfaction came not from having her on her knees, but from her willingness, her eagerness, to be there. And if she didn't move fast, he would wait.

He was waiting now. Ashley cleared her throat and shook her head. "No, I trust you."

He wound his hand around her throat. The other drifted lower, dipping between her thighs to cup her pussy. "You're aching, aren't you? You need to come."

He hadn't touched her nearly enough for that, but she writhed in his arms anyway. "This is what you are," she whispered, echoing his words from earlier. "Why?"

His thumb traced soft, absent circles over her racing pulse. "There's more than one way to embrace what we are. Some hunts are about strength and power and speed. And some are about cunning and patience."

"Making your prey come to you."

"Mmm." Just as she was sinking into the warmth of his embrace, he stepped away, leaving her swaying in the empty darkness again. "Some prey is timid," he whispered, dragging his fingertips across her hip. It was their only point of contact, and more intense because of it.

"I'm not," she insisted.

"Oh, I know." He retreated, leaving her bereft again until warm lips traced the line of her spine. "You're fearless. And so, so strong."

"Then I don't understand—" He bit the curve of her ass, and she forgot what she was going to say. Forgot to breathe.

The floorboards creaked softly behind her, and he tapped the outside of her thigh. "Open."

Her head was spinning, but she obeyed. "You don't want weakness. You want strength, but not to claim it. To have it offered to you."

"Smart girl." She didn't have a chance to respond before his hands were on her inner thighs, stroking up, up, so close to where she was wet and empty—

He stopped, and Ashley froze—waiting, aching—then groaned. "Oh my God, you're killing me."

"Already?" The back of his hand grazed her pussy, light and maddening. "If this is all you can handle, I'll give you want you want. But I think you can take more."

More was exactly what she wanted—faster, now. She bit her lip to hold back the plea.

His fingers brushed her inner thigh this time, slow and soothing and gone far too soon. She sensed movement in the transient prickle of heat, the shift of air over her bare skin. The vague, indefinable energy that signaled the presence of another.

Then it all stopped, vanished, and the next thing she felt was his mouth on her pussy.

She jerked, unable to stop herself from arching toward him. He was already deepening the caress, and that single, rough rock of her hips rubbed her clit over his tongue.

Ashley cried out, turning her head to muffle the noise against her arm.

"Shh." Even the sound was obscene, soothing but tormenting as his lips pressed against her. Just his lips, until she felt his arm against her inner thigh, forcing it wider still.

The chain rattled as she strained to keep her balance, but there wasn't enough give in it to allow her much movement. "Jud—"

"I've got you, darling." He gripped her hip, dragging her back against his mouth. His other hand wandered up her thigh, and she shuddered as he finally, finally pushed one broad finger into her.

Light exploded behind her closed lids, behind the darkness of the blindfold. She rocked again, harder, and whimpered when he moved with her, denying her the rough thrust she craved.

Jud was slow. Methodical. No matter how much she moaned and squirmed, he remained merciless, pushing her closer and closer to the edge without letting her fall over it.

Her skin grew damp, and the leather she wore bit into her wrists. Each stroke melted into the next, over and over and over, until she'd lost track of everything but her heartbeat, pulsing in time with the pleasure that mounted inside her.

Over and over and over.

The world blurred, narrowed into exactly two things—need and denial. Ashley thrashed, vaguely aware of her own voice, wreathed in desperation, babbling nonsense.

But Jud seemed to understand.

His touch vanished, but he didn't leave her floating in nothingness this time. He touched her everywhere as he rose, dragging his hands up her legs, her hips, her sides, all the way to her hair. He dislodged the blindfold, leaving her squinting into sudden brightness, but his hands were already lifting her, dragging her up his body, off the ground.

Her head was still spinning when he thrust into her.

"Oh!" His chest brushed hers, pinching her nipples even tighter between the metal clamps, but even that couldn't distract her from the raw satisfaction blazing through her. The pain only twisted it higher, as if every nerve was so primed for ecstasy that her body translated everything into searing pleasure.

"Wrap your legs around me," he growled. "Tight."

She barely had time to do as he commanded before he gripped her ass, bracing her weight with one hand. He deftly unhooked her cuffs from the chain, and she wrapped her bound arms around his neck as he turned.

But not far. He balanced her on the edge of his dresser, and the breath ripped out of her lungs as he slammed into her. Thrust after thrust, fast and merciless, thumping the dresser against the wall. Her mind scrambled to keep up with her body's reactions, struggled to process the instantaneous, unrelenting passion.

It shot up her spine, the need and denial replaced by need and hunger. It arched her back, her hips, and his next brutal drive splintered the pleasure, turned it into a shower of sparks that only made her want more.

He didn't hold back this time. He gave her everything, deep and fast, fucking her through the first easy shudders of release into something powerful and raw. His thumb found her nipple, the barest brush adding bright pain to the mix, and Ashley squeezed her eyes shut. Her lungs burned, and she had to fight for every breath as her body tensed, focused on only one thing.

Then he slid his hand between them and pinched her clit. Ashley shrieked, but what sizzled over her nerve endings wasn't agony. It was bliss, so intense it became its own sort of stinging ache, inescapable and devastating.

She shook, helpless in the face of such wild, persistent pleasure. Jud groaned, his head falling back, and gave her the only thing she still needed—his release, pumping into her as he growled her name.

Relief and affection suffused her, each bolstered by the other, soothing the last of her feverish need. In that moment, it was beautiful, perfect—but it wasn't the sort of magic she'd glimpsed with Blake.

And Jud knew it.

She could feel it as he cupped her face and kissed her through her lingering shivers. Warmth, pleasure, satisfaction...and no frustration. No regret.

He lifted her from the dresser and carried her to the bed. As he lowered her to the soft surface, Ashley spoke, because she had to fill the silence. "You already knew, didn't you?"

"That I wasn't your one?" He stretched out next to her and took too much time stroking her hair back from her forehead. "I was pretty sure, darling."

And telling her would have accomplished nothing, because she had to find out for herself. "Did you want to be?"

He didn't answer at first, just reached for her wrists, stripped away the cuffs one at a time, and gently rubbed at the marks left behind. "Yes. And no."

The look on his face was unmistakable. "Because of Blake."

"He's one of the strongest wolves I've ever met. Almost as strong as Lucas." He pressed her arms to the bed above her head and met her eyes. "But he's loyal. Too loyal for his own good, maybe. You're not the only one he'd cut out his heart for."

"I know." Otherwise, he never would have urged her into Jud's arms.

"Good." He brushed his knuckles over the side of her breast. "I've got to take these off now, and it may be sensitive. Not too bad, though. Wolves aren't as delicate as humans, but I didn't tighten them much. I don't think that's what you need."

But it was what he needed. Not just the bondage and submission, but the pain merging with pleasure. Ashley watched, hissing in a soft breath as he pulled the first clamp free, then the second.

"Okay?" he asked, soothing one nipple with a kiss.

The soft caress on her tender flesh sent a shiver of sensation rolling through her. "It doesn't hurt."

"Good." He still kissed the other before settling beside her with one warm arm across her body. "Blake should be back with our visitors in a few hours. I know you're tough, and you can handle yourself...but don't get too close to them. For their sakes."

Blake was nervous enough about having them there in the first place. "Just the girl. I promise."

Jud smiled and kissed her forehead. "You're good for him. When the excitement is past, things will work out. Your wolf knows."

She was glad he was so sure, because Blake didn't seem to be.

Chapter Eight

Mac squinted against the bright sunlight as Blake's truck pulled down the dirt and gravel drive, kicking up plumes of dust in its wake. Instead of taking his time to park along the edge of the drive, he stopped at the end of it and jumped out, stalking to join them with irritation in every line of his body.

"Ashley should be inside," he snapped as soon as he reached them.

Lucas opened his mouth to respond, but the woman in question stepped in front of him. "Ashley wants to be out here with the rest of her pack," she shot back.

Blake's fists tightened. "They're already acting like assholes. Driving all of thirty fucking miles an hour so I had to keep waiting for them. I don't trust them. Not with you."

"Neither do any of us." She stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "Welcome back."

The rumble of another engine echoed through the valley, and Mac spotted a dark SUV rolling down the drive, taking its sweet time. It was a challenge, all right—we may be here on your turf, on your terms, but we'll make you wait until we're good and ready to face you.

Oh, these guys were dicks.

Lucas sighed and painted a smile on his face. "Everyone remember the rules."

Connor snorted. "He said we can't kill anyone until after dinner, Blake."

Blake took Ashley's hand and turned, almost managing to edge her behind him without being obvious about it. "No promises."

The SUV pulled in behind Blake's truck, and three men climbed out, including the driver. He was older, with dark hair and close-set eyes that made the skin on the back of Mac's neck prickle. The other two were young, almost as young as Ashley, and had been at the meeting with the Great Lakes alpha. They walked with a swagger, flexing their muscles and glaring.

The older man nodded to Lucas. "I'm Emmett. This is Leo and Bryce."

Lucas welcomed them and carried on with his own introductions, but Mac stared at the three men instead. They were all watching Ashley and trying to pretend they weren't. It was enough to raise Mac's hackles, so Blake had to be holding back snarls from sheer force of will alone.

Connor fidgeted uncomfortably, edging closer until his shoulder pressed against Mac's. Mac looped his arm around his shoulder and dared any of those motherfuckers to say a goddamn word about it.

Then he glanced at Jud, who was eyeing their guests not with murder in his eyes, but with a cool calculation that meant he was already thinking of all the ways they could quietly disappear forever.

Well, this is off to a great start.

Emmett had moved on from pretending he wasn't gawking at Ashley to pretending he wasn't sizing up the lodge and imagining it as his own. "This is quite the cozy little den you've built for yourselves."

"We needed the space." Lucas's smile got a lot more real. "Are you going to invite the others to join us?"

For an eternal moment, Emmett didn't react. Then he smiled, turned, and gestured with two fingers. "Tim!"

The back door of the SUV opened, and Eyepatch jumped out, his fingers locked around a decidedly feminine wrist.

He didn't quite drag the girl out of the vehicle, but she sure as hell didn't come eagerly. Everything about her screamed anxiety—her stiff limbs, her clenched fists, the way her gaze darted around wildly, taking in not just the pack but the lodge and surrounding woods.

She brushed her wavy, light brown hair out of her face, and he caught his first real glimpse of her eyes—light blue, like the ocean, frozen over now with—

Fear? Mac's hands clenched into fists as Eyepatch—fuck, the guy's actual name was Tim or Jim or something like that—released her. She almost stumbled, but caught herself before she lost her balance and wrapped her arms around her body.

It molded her oversized T-shirt to her curves, and he realized with a start that she was probably about the same size as Ashley. Only her face looked gaunt, sharp and angular, as if she'd lost weight recently.

The bastards wouldn't have starved her, of course. Not because they weren't capable of such cruelty, but because it didn't align with their goals. Stress, maybe—

Or she hadn't been eating on purpose.

"Grace." Emmett's voice was mild, but the chiding edge stiffened the girl's spine and hurried her steps as he continued, "Don't keep our hosts waiting."

But Lucas had already turned away. "I'll show you all around the property. Dinner'll be ready in about an hour. Jud's grilling, so you're in for a treat."

Mac watched him round the edge of the lodge, their visitors trailing after him, and finally unclenched his fists.

Connor made a quiet noise. "If we make it through dinner without bloodshed, it'll be a damn miracle."

Ashley bit her lip. "I don't have a lot of room to talk about being in weird situations, but that was bizarre."

"No." Blake's hand went to the small of Ashley's back, as if he had to touch her. "That was bad."

She leaned against him. "So what do we do?"

Mac flexed his hands and finally let loose with the feral, forbidding grin he'd been holding back. "We watch and wait."

"For what?"

"For them to show their cards."

Chapter Nine

Everything about the Great Lakes wolves was wrong, and it was making Blake crazy.

Emmett was too sly, too deliberate. Always dancing just shy of rudeness as he surveyed the back porch like a prospective owner and spoke to Lucas as if they were equals. He wanted everything Lucas had—the comfort that came with their money, the security of their home, the respect of a pack.

The young wolves with him respected no one. Not Emmett, not glowering Tim, not each other. If they'd been his pack brothers, Blake would have smacked them into the ground a dozen times over the course of the meal, just on damn principle. And when they turned those disrespectful gazes on Ashley...

He had already bent his fork by mistake, and he'd have splinters embedded halfway through his hand if he didn't stop gripping the edge of the table. His self-control was already frayed, but he'd promised Lucas he would try.

It didn't stop him from intercepting Bryce's next covetous look with a cold glare.

The younger wolf started to scowl, but the one with the eye patch planted an elbow in his ribs, diverting his attention.

Beneath the table, Ashley curled her fingers around Blake's hand and squeezed.

Her touch should have soothed him. It had been enough, the first few times, when his rage was still at a low simmer. But it was the girl—Grace—who was scraping everyone raw now.

She was wary. Wounded. She barely spoke at all, even then only when spoken to, and her gaze stayed fixed to the table the rest of the time. Not out of deference or as a show of submission—there was too much jagged, angry power in her for that.

She was scared. She was hurting. And her supposed pack was fucking well oblivious, ignoring her as she listlessly chased food around her plate with her fork. They were too damn busy trying to devour Ashley with their eyes.

The bastards didn't deserve Ashley. They didn't deserve either of them.

"I should check on dessert," Ashley said suddenly. "Blake, can you help me?"

"Sure." He rose and offered his hand, just for the excuse to keep that calming contact.

She pulled him into the kitchen. They'd left the back door open to the pleasant evening, but she closed it now, leaned against it, and stared at him. "Are you all right?" she asked, too softly for anyone outside to hear.

The smart thing would be to lie. Project confidence, offer reassurances. He tried, but the words wouldn't come. He was so obviously not all right, and the least all right part of the whole fucking mess was his sudden overpowering need to pin her to the door and rub his scent over every glorious inch of her.

"No," he rasped, all but shaking with the need to touch her. "No, I'm not."

She breathed his name, then surged off the door and covered the space between them. Laying one hand on his chest, right over his thumping heart, she whispered his name again. "They'll be gone soon."

They'd be gone, and Ashley would be here. Would be safe, and for a dizzy moment Blake didn't even care that he might not be the one to mate her. Better Lucas or Jud, better Mac or Connor, better anyone than those selfish bastards who were already ignoring one woman's pain.

He wrapped both arms around Ashley and dragged her back until they collided with the open pantry door. One pivot and he had her inside, up against the shelves as he slanted his mouth over hers and let his hard-earned control unravel.

Her hand clenched in his shirt, a mere half-second before she opened her mouth with a sigh and kissed him back.

They were still so close to everyone else. If he concentrated, Blake could hear the rise and fall of voices through the closed kitchen door. Swinging the pantry door shut didn't help much, but it plunged them into darkness and gave him a flat surface to press Ashley against as he tilted his head and licked at her lips in silent entreaty.

This time, when her fingers curled in his shirt, her nails dug into his flesh through the cotton. "They'll hear us."

He didn't give a fuck if they did. But Ashley would, not to mention Lucas, who wasn't suffering through this dinner for his own enjoyment. Blake kissed a path up her jaw, all the way to her ear, even as he slid his fingers down her hip to gather up her skirt. "I can make sure they don't."

She laughed, a quiet sound of lust and longing. "I don't think you're going to be the loud one."

"I know." Slowly, he lifted his free hand and traced his fingertips over her soft, full lips. "I can make sure they don't."

Her ragged breathing hitched, then stopped altogether.

His hand edged under her skirt and encountered skin, the silky smoothness of her outer thigh. "Do you want me to show you?"

Whimpering, she nodded.

He timed it carefully, folding one hand across her mouth to muffle her strangled noise as the other reached the top of her thigh. He worked her just like that, under her skirt, over her panties, reveling in her arousal as he rubbed the already wet fabric gently against her clit.

Ashley arched off the door, her breath hot against his hand, her eyes wide and dark. She watched him, her gaze fixed on his face until a shiver of sensation took her, and her eyes squeezed shut.

Fuck, she was so into it that his cock ached with the need to be inside her. He dragged her panties off one hip, slid his hand inside, and resumed stroking her, circling with his thumb as he teased her entrance with one finger. "You like this, don't you sweetheart? Being bad?"

In reply, she parted her lips beneath his hand and licked his palm.

"Naughty girl," he whispered, letting his approval show as he worked his finger into her. Just one, but her body clenched tight, and he dropped his forehead to hers with a groan. "Just how I like you. So, so wicked."

She moaned and rocked into his touch, taking his finger deeper.

He knew exactly what she needed now. How deep to fuck her, when to add a second finger, when to shift from lazy circles around her clit to a firm, rougher touch. He knew her sounds, even when muffled, knew the way her hips moved when she was getting close, the way her inner muscles rippled around him.

He knew her, how to please her, how to make her shake and scream, and it was the purest, best part of him. Even his selfishness was for her pleasure, her release. So many years spent learning how to hurt and conquer, but this was what he'd been made for. Knowing her, indulging her, having the skills and knowledge to bring her to that peak...

And the self-control to give her every damn fantasy, exactly the way she wanted.

Blake eased his grip on her mouth just enough to let her answer a question. "Do you want to come around my fingers or my cock?"

Her head hit the door with a thump. "Oh God."

"Shh. Which one, Ashley?"

She tugged at his shirt and shuddered as her hands slipped beneath the fabric. She scratched his sides, his chest, and finally licked her lips. "Both."

"That's my girl," he murmured, covering her mouth again.

And then he gave her what she wanted—what they both wanted. Her, writhing against the door as he drove her over the edge, grasping and clinging. She sank her teeth into his hand as she came, and he still had to clamp his hand down hard over her mouth to muffle her cries.

She was still shuddering when he dragged his fingers free of her pussy and reached for his belt. "Help me."

Her hands trembled on the leather as she jerked his belt open. "Christ, I missed you."

"I know." There was no doubt between them now, no hesitation or worry. Just the shared goal of shoving aside enough clothing to get him inside her. Not because of the mating heat, but because it was the only thing that felt right.

"You don't know." She wrapped her arms around him, pressing her body tight against his. "You have no idea."

He hoisted her up against the door, biting back a loud groan as his cock ground against her softness. "Tell me."

"I felt—" She dropped her head to his shoulder, burying her face against his neck. "I felt like part of me was missing."

It was how he felt every damn time a door shut with her on the other side. He slipped his fingers into her hair and tilted her head back again, far enough to let him claim her lips. Soft at first, sweet, until she moaned something that sounded like his name, and then it was hard and deep and still sweet, because she was.

Ashley rocked between him and the door, using the leverage to glide her slick pussy up and down the length of his shaft. They both groaned, the sounds tangling together, stifled by their kiss, and Blake couldn't hold back.

If being apart from her meant something was missing, sliding into her meant coming home. Even like this, fast and rough, driving her back against the door as he sank deep.

She was sweetest like this, his lips muffling her eager moans as her body welcomed him. Her fingers slid into his hair, stroking, clutching, and her legs tightened around his hips, all of it a silent plea—don't stop.

He couldn't. They didn't have time for slow and teasing, and neither of them wanted it. He curled his fingers under her ass and held her steady for his swift, hard thrusts, already lost to her heat, her tightness, the way they fit together.

She tore her mouth from his, silent except for the panting she couldn't control, every rough breath urging him faster, harder.

The pantry door rattled under the force of their fucking. He freed one hand to brace it, silencing the sound, but there were so many more. Their unsteady breathing, the slap of flesh on flesh, the growling snarl of satisfaction he couldn't choke back every time she squeezed his cock tight. "Come on, sweetheart. Let go."

"Blake—" Her voice broke, shattering around his name. "Blake."

He claimed her mouth again, swallowing her cries as she tensed in his arms. A heartbeat later, she was shaking apart, clenching around him as she came.

For him. All over him. The heat and the friction were too much, especially combined with the gratification of her writhing body and helpless noises. He slammed into her, grinding deep, and let release drag him down into a dark peace that was almost, almost perfect.

Almost.

Her nails scratched over him, edging beneath his collar to stroke skin. Shuddering, Blake dropped his forehead to hers again, loath to pull away even though he knew their time was limited. They had to rejoin the others, and he had to pull himself back under control and not kill them for the crime of looking at Ashley.

But for now, in this moment, she was his. Even if she wasn't.

"Not yet," she whispered.

The words could have been an answer to the longing filling his chest, so he silenced her with a soft kiss.

But Ashley turned her head. "I mean it," she insisted. "We don't have to go back. We could stay here a while."

If only. "Lucas will send someone for us soon. I need to be out there. I'm his second."

She moaned, a sound full of regret, not pleasure. "You just got back. I haven't even had a chance to—" She bit her lip.

She looked shy, almost hesitant. He swept his finger along her lower lip, gently freeing it from the bite of her teeth. "What, sweetheart?"

"I figured something out while you were gone. I..." Her voice faltered, and she shook her head. "It's nothing. It can wait."

"Hey." He tilted her chin up. "They can wait, if this is important to you."

She stared at him, her eyes wide, her heart thumping. Then she smiled and shook her head again. "You're right. We'd better hurry."

They did, putting their clothing to rights as quickly as possible. Not that it mattered—even smoothing Ashley's hair into place and straightening her dress didn't make her look any less thoroughly ravished. And nothing short of a long shower would erase the tangle of scents, his and hers and theirs.

Blake found that more satisfying than he should have.

Outside, his satisfaction cooled a bit as Lucas fixed him with a pointed glare.

Control yourself. His alpha didn't have to say it, and he shouldn't have had to imply it. For years, Blake had been a solid second, a steady right hand. He'd had perfect control.

When it came to Ashley, he didn't have any at all.

Chapter Ten

I love you.

Ashley hid a cringe as the words replayed in her mind, over and over. Thank Christ she'd managed not to say it, because, even to her, it sounded like a demand. One she had no right to make.

Yet. She stifled a sigh and flipped on the light switch in her bedroom. "And this is my room. Make yourself at home."

Grace hesitated on the threshold, her gaze sweeping the vast room. "This is yours?"

"Yes." No bars on the windows or anything. She swallowed the words, because it really wasn't a joking matter. From what she could tell from Grace's behavior, her situation was, in many ways, even worse than Ashley's had been. "Do you need anything? A drink?"

After a moment, Grace shook her head and edged through the door. She only made it two steps before glancing back over her shoulder.

Ashley held her tongue. It seemed like all she'd been doing, all goddamn day. "Have a seat, if you like."

"Thank you." The girl's voice was husky and soft, but as uncertain as the rest of her. She perched on the edge of the couch, her hands folded together in her lap. "You're like me. Like them?"

"A female wolf," Ashley confirmed gently. "Were you raised with humans?"

She nodded jerkily. "I didn't know what I was. Not until..." Her fingers flexed. "Did you always know?"

"My parents were..." It hit Ashley in a rush, unbidden and paralyzing—the realization of what she'd lost. Not only her mother and now her father, but the chance to ever tell them she was okay, to make them understand that this life was more than fine with her. That it was what she wanted.

"I'm sorry," Grace said softly. "I lost my mom, too."

Ashley took a deep, bracing breath. "It's not easy, is it?"

"No." Grace curled her arms around her midsection. "I don't even know if my parents were...like us. Wolves. I guess they had to be, but—" She broke off, as if she realized she was saying too much. "But you knew."

"You didn't?"

"Not until Tim found me."

The words were flat, blank. Ashley shivered. "You don't seem to like him much," she observed carefully.

Grace didn't answer. "The one who scowls all the time. Is he your—your mate?"

It hurt, more than it should have. "No, I don't have a mate. Not yet. And Blake..." Ashley shrugged helplessly. "He doesn't scowl all the time. He just...doesn't care much for visitors."

"Does he...?" She fretted, her gaze drifting toward the sliding door and the deck beyond. "Will they come up here to check on you soon?"

Her meaning was crystal clear. "To see if I've run away? No."

"You don't want to?"

Her pain was a tangible thing—and so was her confusion. "No, Grace. I'm here because I want to be."

"Then you're lucky." Grace rose, pacing toward the window with nervous energy. "I need to get out. While they're not watching me. They're always watching me."

Ashley stood, as well, careful to keep her movements slow and easy. "If you're in trouble, Lucas can help you."

She went stiff, but at least she didn't bolt. "That's what Tim said, too. That Emmett could help me."

"Lucas is different. He wouldn't make you stay." Ashley knew it in her gut, with every fiber of her being. If Grace needed help, she'd get it, even if what she wanted was to get as far away from all of them as possible and never see them again. "He wouldn't make you do anything, I swear."

For the longest time, Grace didn't reply. When she moved, it was only to press her head to the glass door and close her eyes. "I'm tired of fighting."

"I've been there." Ashley eased closer, but she didn't touch the other woman. "I've been trapped, but now I'm not. Because I let them help me. I didn't know them, and I didn't know what they were going to do...but it had to be better than staying where I was."

Grace shuddered. "Tim won't just let me go."

Ashley's chest ached, not only for Grace's fear, but for her certainty that things couldn't get better. "Let Lucas handle that."

"Promise me." It was a whisper, so soft her breath barely fogged the glass. "Promise me they won't make me hurt them."

What she really meant was defend herself, the way she'd obviously had to with the others. For a single, blinding moment, rage clouded Ashley's vision, and she clenched her hands into fists.

She relaxed them by sheer force of will and exhaled shakily. "I promise."

Chapter Eleven

In the end, Lucas gathered them around the fire pit with beer to loosen the visitors' tongues, and set about drawing the truth out of them.

It took a patience Blake wasn't feeling anymore, so it was a damn good thing he wasn't expected to do the talking. He settled for gripping his beer and glowering as Lucas led the meandering conversation closer and closer to the fucking point.

He knew where it was going. In his gut, he knew. Emmett could spout all the bullshit he wanted, talking himself in circles about alliances and allegiances and strengthening the bonds between packs, but greed seethed under every word.

These interlopers wanted his pack's territory. They wanted his pack's resources. But, most of all, they wanted Ashley.

"What we're proposing is a trade." Emmett leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Your girl is unmated. So is ours. It only makes sense—"

Rage flooded Blake, boiling his blood. He could barely hear the rest of the words, all so easy, so smug, because this bastard thought of Ashley as a thing, something replaceable, interchangeable. Property.

Lucas held up a hand—to calm him, or to stop the flow of the other man's words, Blake couldn't tell. "No."

"It's a perfectly reasonable solution to both our problems."

"He said no," Blake snarled. "Ashley's pack. We don't trade pack."

The young one they called Leo snorted. "She's hot for it, man. I could smell it all over her. And apparently none of you are giving it to her. Not good enough, anyway."

Blake didn't decide to move. He didn't remember it at all, just the shatter of glass as the bottle in his hand broke against the fire pit. Then he had Leo on his back, one hand locked around the ignorant puppy's throat.

Shouts and then snarls rose in the night, echoing as if from miles away. The wolf beneath him flailed, kicking and scratching at Blake's face and arms in an effort to free himself.

Blake tightened his grip, fighting for control. His wolf was bleeding through, urging him to shed his useless human shape. To form teeth and claws to shred their enemies, to protect what would be theirs. Pain screamed in his joints, in his bones, his body starting to give in to the call.

"You're dead," he growled, rolling away to tear at his clothes. The boy scrambled to his feet and bolted—on human legs, like stupid prey—and Blake embraced the agony of the change, rose from the shredded ruins of his clothing, and surged in pursuit.

Chapter Twelve

When the first howl split the night, it raised goose bumps on Ashley's skin.

They could be running, she told herself, but it had to be a lie. There was no trace of joy or revelry in that sound, just a shrill note of attention and warning that chilled her blood in her veins. She understood what it meant, deep in her gut, in that place beyond thought or reason.

Fight.

Grace lurched from the couch, her hands curling into fists. "We should run. We should get away. One of the cars—"

"No." Ashley headed for the exterior door to the deck. If there was trouble, she needed to find the others. "I have to help them."

"You can't—" The words cut off in a muffled shriek.

Ashley spun around. Tim had one hand locked around Grace's throat, the other pressing a wicked looking blade to her cheek. For a moment, all Ashley could do was stare, horrified.

Tim stared right back.

"Don't make me hurt her," he muttered. "Don't make me hurt you."

Ashley swallowed hard, steeling herself against the terror twisting Grace's features. "What's going on?"

"They're fighting over you." He sneered and took a step back, dragging Grace with him. He lowered the knife to his side, but his grip on Grace only tightened as he dropped his lips to her ear. "No one's fighting for you. No one but me."

Ashley couldn't let him get out the door. If she did, he would flee, and then Grace would be alone with him. Whatever tiny, ineffectual bits of control that had kept him restrained before would vanish, and Christ knew what would happen to her.

Nausea churned in Ashley's stomach, threatening to overwhelm her. She could have been her, all too easily. If someone other than Blake had found her, someone sent by an alpha less scrupulous than Lucas. And she would have been completely, utterly at their mercy.

"No." She took a step forward, clenching her hands in her skirt to hide their trembling. "Grace wants to stay."

Tim laughed harshly and licked the woman's cheek, and something feral flashed in her eyes. He swiveled, tossed her aside with a lazy flex of muscle, and Grace collided with the wall with a sickening thud.

She slumped to the floor in a heap, but Tim was already moving, his knife catching the light as he stalked toward Ashley. "Grace wants to do what I tell her to do, she just doesn't know it yet. No one ever taught her where a bitch belongs."

His words scrambled her brain with anger, but it didn't matter. He was moving too fast for her to think anyway, so she reached out and snatched up a heavy stone candle holder from her desk. "Stay back!"

"Really?" He laughed again, mockery dripping from him as he circled closer. "That's all the fight you've got in you? Pathetic."

He lunged, and she swung the candle holder at the side of his head. It connected with a crack, sending hot bolts of pain shooting down her arm as Tim stumbled back.

The stone slipped from her nerveless fingers, and she watched in horror as he swiped blood from the side of his face and stared at his reddened fingers. "Useless bitch," he rumbled, wiping his fingers on his shirt and leaving gruesome streaks behind. "I was going to make it fast, but not anymore."

As he lunged at her again, this time locking those bloodied, steely hands around her neck, Ashley panicked. All the things she could have done—should have done—flashed through her mind. Hit him harder, run out the door, screamed for help.

And now it was too late.

Chapter Thirteen

The wolves were stupid, but they were fast.

Not Leo. He went down first. Easy, while he was wrestling with the door to the SUV, probably going for a gun. They were fast and they were cheats, so steeped in human corruption that they couldn't face an honest challenge.

Blake didn't give him a chance to fight dirty. He tore through the younger man's leg, bringing him down, and ripped out his throat just as fast.

Another wolf slammed into Blake, knocking him to the ground. They rolled and came up snapping. The other wolf was large, almost as big as Blake, and fast. Bryce, judging by his scent, which meant he was younger, too.

He was cornered, desperate. But Blake was fighting for Ashley.

They clashed again, Bryce twisting in fast and angling for Blake's throat. Blake turned at the last moment, and those heavy jaws closed on his shoulder, instead, lighting him up with a pain he ignored.

When he didn't go down, Bryce broke away, panting and circling. The sharp scent of blood filled the air, a warning that Blake couldn't afford to play games. Bites from werewolves healed human-slow, and bleeding would weaken him.

He didn't have time to be weak.

But he could fake it, just a little. A step back, a stumble, as if his injured front leg couldn't hold his weight. He started to sag and Bryce was on him, lunging in for the kill so recklessly that all Blake had to do was spin at the last moment and close his teeth around his enemy's throat.

The wolf gurgled and thrashed as blood poured. By the time he fell still, Blake heard quick footsteps advancing at a run.

It was Mac. He called out Blake's name before skidding to a halt in front of him. "Emmett's dead," he panted. "But we've got a fucking problem."

It was hard to get control of himself. To find any shred of calm, or the will to regain his human form. He was stronger like this, faster like this. Deadly like this.

But he could be deadly in any skin.

It hurt more, shifting back. His shoulder screamed with it, and he ended up on his knees, sucking in a shaky breath as his arm tingled. It was a struggle to force out human words. "What's wrong?"

"Connor and Jud headed back to the house." Mac pressed his lips together in a grim line. "We can't find Eyepatch."

Tim. The one who'd glowered in silence. The one who'd watched Grace with an absentminded dedication that would have been familiar if there'd been anything tender in his eyes. A man with an obsession wouldn't let anything stand in his way.

Blake lurched to his feet, shoved past Mac, and ran for the house. Mac thundered after him, yelling something, but all of Blake's attention was focused on one thing.

One person.

Ashley's door stood open, a dark smear marring the polished wood. His heart stopped, just stopped, a blackness rising up to swallow him.

He'd fucked up. He'd lost control. He'd gone running after an enemy who had taunted him with stupid, meaningless words, and left everything that mattered unprotected.

Blake stumbled through the door, fear tunneling his vision. For an endless moment, all he saw was Ashley. Jud had her head tilted back and to one side, and light fell on dark bruises ringing her throat. Connor said something to her, and she looked over and nodded, then froze as her gaze clashed with Blake's.

Alive. Bruised and scared, but whole. He needed to go to her, to run his hands over her, press his ear to her chest and listen to the steady thump of her heart. He needed it more than anything...

And he didn't deserve it. Hadn't earned it.

"Grace." The pleading tone in Connor's voice finally dragged his attention away from Ashley.

Tim's body lay on the other side of the room, sprawled face down in a spreading pool of blood. Grace straddled his hips, her bloody hands clutching the hilt of the knife she'd jammed repeatedly into the man's back.

Her eyes were feral. Unseeing. Her hands shook as she lifted the knife again, and she bared her teeth when Connor reached out to her.

Mac took over, sliding one hand down her arm. She whipped around, slashing the blade blindly across his shoulder before he managed to secure her wrist. "He comes back," she snarled, her voice breaking on fear so intense it hurt. "Nothing kills him. I have to—"

"Not this time," he said soothingly. "He's over, honey. You got him good. Now give me the knife, okay?"

Grace open her hand one shaky finger at a time, relinquishing the weapon with a choked sob. It was heartbreaking to watch, yet another failure digging hooks into Blake's heart. If he'd been where he belonged, Ashley wouldn't be decorated in bruises and Grace wouldn't have blood on her hands.

"Blake." Ashley's voice, hoarse and pained.

He didn't deserve to go to her, but he had to. At least one more time.

He sank to Ashley's side and wrapped her in his arms. "Are you okay?"

Instead of answering, she shook her head and buried her face in his shoulder.

He hauled her closer and rested his chin on top of her head. "You will be. We'll take care of you, sweetheart. I promise."

"I heard the howling. I tried to come out, but Tim—he—" She shuddered. "He was so angry."

"He was fucked up." And they should have seen it. He should have seen it.

"I hit him, but it didn't faze him. But Grace..." Her shaky voice hitched into borderline hysterical laughter. "Grace took a knife during dinner."

Another thing he should have seen—a girl desperate enough to steal silverware because she knew she might need to defend herself. But he'd been too busy dragging Ashley into a fucking closet to rub all over her, like a human pounding his chest. "Shh, it's okay, honey. We can talk about it later."

"I need to get out of here." She clutched at his shoulders, her hands sticky-slick with blood. "Help me."

Blake gathered her and rose, holding her tight to his chest as he carried her from the room. His bedroom door stood open, and he nudged it wide with one foot. He carried her through it, past the bed, straight to the bathroom with its wide-tiled shower. "Can you stand up for me?"

She did, swaying only slightly as she stared down at her ruined clothes. "My dress..."

It was sweet, the top hugging her curves, the skirt swaying around her legs. And it couldn't be salvaged. "Connor will get you another one," he promised, guiding it over her head. "A dozen just like it, if you want."

The dress cleared her head, and her eyes locked with his. "I was worried about you."

He barely felt his shoulder now. Physical pain was inconsequential compared to the fear that filled her eyes. "You don't have to be, Ashley. I'm tough. I'm fine."

"I can't help it," she whispered. "I love you."

His heart didn't stop this time. It damn near beat its way out of his chest.

I love you too. The words were there, on the tip of his tongue. He could say them, be selfish, accept everything he didn't deserve and bind her to him before he'd earned the right.

And the next time he lost his fucking mind and put her in harm's way, she might not have a broken girl with a stolen steak knife to save her.

I love you.

He couldn't say it, but he couldn't hold it back, either. So he sank his fingers into her hair and kissed her, silencing himself this time.

Chapter Fourteen

It had been a long time since Lucas had been in charge of burial detail.

But Joshua had taught him well, and he remembered his lessons. At least four feet, too deep for scavengers. Six was better. But the season was on their side, with warm weather and pliable soil, or it would have taken more than two werewolves with strong shovels and even stronger backs to get it done before daybreak.

The sky had just started to lighten when he left Jud to finish covering the bodies. He trudged back to the house—grimy, sore from the fight and the bone-wrenching terror of having his territory invaded and then dishonored—only to see Blake slipping out the side door with a duffel slung over his uninjured shoulder.

He was too weary for anger or indignation. Too tired to muster anything that might eclipse the sorrow piercing his heart. "Going somewhere?"

Blake flinched and looked away. Looked down, as if all the pride and challenge that made him who he was had been stripped away. "You have to stop avoiding her. She needs a strong mate, and her wolf knows it."

Arguing with a broken man was futile. "She's going to be so pissed at you."

"I'm not leaving." Blake hoisted the duffel higher and finally met Lucas's gaze. "I just...can't be here while you find out. And I need to clear my head. Get control of myself."

"Is that what you think? That those bozos weren't spoiling for a fight?"

"I think I shouldn't have let one get past us."

"Right, because you were the only one." Lucas swiped a dirty hand across his forehead and held out both arms. "If you failed so goddamn bad, what does that say about me?"

But Blake didn't back down. "That you can't keep her safe while you're cleaning up my messes."

"Good thinking." Pain lent Lucas's voice a rough edge, one he couldn't manage to smooth. "When will you be back?"

"Ivan said he could get me into a few fights." Blake shrugged and tried for a smile. "Maybe having my head knocked around will get my brain working again."

"What do I tell Ashley?"

"I don't know. Whatever she needs to hear."

"Look—"

"No. She might be yours, Lucas. You might be the one she needs." Blake turned toward his motorcycle, as if he couldn't stand to look at him anymore. "If you don't make her happy, I will kick your fucking ass."

It felt a little too final, in spite of his assurances that he wouldn't be gone for good. "What if I'm not?" he called after Blake. "Do you really want to risk walking out like this? Because she might not be glad to see you when you come back."

Blake stopped beside his bike and stared at it forever before looking back. "If I don't go now, I won't be able to. And Grace will be sticking the next knife in my back."

It was the one concern Lucas couldn't counter. It didn't matter how much Ashley adored Blake, or how much he wanted to stay. One thing easily overshadowed the rest—the possibility that he might somehow destroy the woman he loved.

"Be careful," Lucas said finally. "And watch your back. That's non-negotiable."

Blake smiled. And lied. "I always do."

Chapter Fifteen

Ashley woke up alone in Blake's bed.

The warmth of his scent surrounded her, and she burrowed deeper into the covers, hiding her face against his pillow. For a few blissful moments, nothing else mattered, and nothing was wrong.

Then she remembered. The other pack, the fight, Grace, Tim—

Twin chills, one figurative and one very, very real, slithered up her spine as she sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest.

"It's okay." Connor sprawled next to the bed, in the chair that usually sat in front of the fireplace. "Everyone's okay, Ashley."

Not everyone. "Emmett and the others?"

"Not a problem anymore."

More bodies, then. More death. She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry."

The bed dipped, and Connor wrapped his arms around her. "I'm not. They hurt you. And Grace..." He dragged her closer. "I'm not sorry."

"It's just such a waste, that's all." Things really were going to hell, if Connor felt the need to climb into Blake's bed to comfort her. Ashley swiped at her cheeks and smiled. "You know, Blake might get the wrong idea if he finds you here."

Connor didn't say anything.

She felt it in his stillness, then, and wondered why she hadn't seen it before. He was being too careful with her—not like handling a wounded woman gently, but rather like trying not to spook a doomed creature.

A strange sort of detachment tingled through her, leaving her lips numb. "Where is he?"

At least he didn't lie to her. "He left a few hours ago."

"To go where?"

"Away." Connor cupped her face and rested his forehead against hers. "Lucas knows, I think. But the where's not the point."

"Then what?" She'd told him she loved him, had seen the same emotion burning in his eyes. "Why?"

He smoothed his hand down to brush the tender, bruised skin at the base of her throat. "Because he lost control and you got hurt. The stronger wolves... They can't handle that shit."

And having him walk out on her was supposed to hurt less? "When will he be back?"

Connor didn't answer right away. He slipped his fingers into her hair, tugging lightly through the loose strands and working away the tangles. "I'm not your mate. You can feel it, can't you? Part of you just knows."

"Connor—" She caught his wrists and held them still. She met his eyes, and her next question almost drowned under a wave of pain and disbelief. "He isn't coming back."

"It's not that simple—"

"He isn't coming back." They were words. Separately, she understood them all. Together, they were as incomprehensible as the sky being lime green, or getting out of bed to stand on the ceiling.

"Ashley." Connor tugged his hands free and grasped her shoulders. "That's why it matters, sweetheart. You know I'm not your mate. But if you can't say the same about Lucas—"

She shook away. "I don't want Lucas."

Connor caught her again, his grip firmer this time. "Are you sure?"

No. The answer came from deep inside, driven by that tiny, utterly primal part of her that still demanded that she test herself against their alpha, just in case. It was pure instinct, the very foundation of who she was—who they were.

And she would bury it forever, if that was the only way to bring Blake back to her.

"Oh, honey." He dragged her back into his arms and buried his face in her hair. "They never see," he whispered hoarsely. "They never see how much they help, only the shit they couldn't get done."

Blake was gone. He'd taken her confession of love, judged himself unworthy to keep it, and left her, all without a word. If she let it, the pain could splinter and destroy her.

Instead, she diverted it into anger, fierce and raw. She stumbled from the bed, dragging the sheet with her as she stomped from the room.

Jud stood in the hallway, full dressed and unusually somber. He raised both hands. "Ashley—"

"No." She wound the sheet around her body, gathering it so she wouldn't trip and break her neck as she hurried down the stairs.

Lucas was in his study off the great room, sharing a drink with Mac, despite the early hour. They both froze when she walked in, but Ashley was in no mood to be careful.

Or polite. She took Mac's glass, drained it in one painful gulp, and fixed Lucas with a glare. "You know where he is. Connor said so."

Mac took a step toward her. She bared her teeth at him, and he veered through the door instead, closing it behind him.

Lucas scrubbed his hands over his face before leaning back in his chair. "Are you angry, Ashley?"

"You're damn right, I am." It was better than the alternative, better than opening herself to the vast, excruciating emptiness that stretched out before her. "You let him go."

A spark flared in Lucas's eyes. "No one is a prisoner here. That goes for everyone, not just you and Grace."

"Fine. You didn't convince him to stay."

He rose. "What makes you think I even saw him?"

"You did." It was there, lurking behind the desperate indignation in his stare—the same cold pain that twisted her stomach into knots.

He finished his drink and dropped the glass to his desk with a thump. "At least you're mad as hell at the right person. He didn't leave because of you."

"No, because of us." And the chance that the word might even apply to the two of them.

"It's stupid." Lucas abandoned his desk, instead turning to gaze out the window, through the half-open blinds. "He wants you so much. By the time he got you here, he was already nuts about you. And I figured that staying away from you was the right thing to do, you know? Only I'm such an idiot." He spun around to face her. "And an arrogant asshole. Because it doesn't matter that I'm stronger, that I'm the alpha. If you and Blake are right for each other, then my dick's not going to make a difference. You're his."

Ashley's temper withered. Lucas had had the best of intentions in not fucking her, but all Blake had seen was the half-formed motivation behind it—if I take her, I might take her away. His alpha's reticence equaled possibility, no matter what they all wanted, and that possibility had driven Blake away.

She cleared her throat. "So what do we do?"

"What do you want to?"

"Find him," she answered without hesitation. "Tell him—no, words won't work. Make him see."

He eyed the rumpled sheet wrapped around her and grinned suddenly. "Then get dressed and let's go."

Chapter Sixteen

The fights were rarely held in the same place two weeks in a row, but Blake had been to enough of them over the years to know that all windowless warehouses and grungy basements shared three important features: they were dark and gloomy, they filled up fast, and if the stench of spectators crowded in close didn't kill you, the sound of their bloodthirsty screams probably would.

These concrete pits were everything he loathed about humanity. The press of bodies, the stale air. He felt cut off from the world, from the earth and the wind and everything alive. The people here moved too fast, too carelessly, flinging their limbs in every direction, as if they owned their space and his as well.

He bristled when they jostled him, fighting back the urge to answer insult with action. He wasn't here to educate them. He was to fight, to bleed, to entertain. Maybe even to chase a little pain, because cracked ribs and a busted face would hurt less than his heart right now.

"Ivan said you were here," a low voice drawled, somehow carrying over the din. "I told him he was full of shit. Shows what I know."

Fucking Ivan. Blake tensed, turned slowly, and watched the werewolf parting the crowd by intimidating size alone. Dex was huge, strong, and had a cheerful violence in his eyes that rivaled Mac on a good day.

And there was no way he'd just happened to show up tonight. "Well, Ivan didn't tell me you were going to be here."

"He said you seemed tense." Dex shook his head. "Always the diplomat. Anyway, he was afraid you'd knock someone's block off, so he gave me a call."

"Yeah?" It was such an Ivan thing to do, cleaning up behind wolves, nudging circumstances to avoid exposure. Not even out of a sense of nobility—Ivan made his living serving as an intermediary between wolves who wanted to hide and a world that had progressed too far to make that a simple task. "So what am I supposed to do? Beat on you?"

"Sure." Dex clapped a jovial hand to his shoulder. "You whoop my ass, and we both make a shit ton of money. That's a win-win."

Blake snarled. It was too easy. A toothless match, a mere show to get the humans' blood pumping, and when it was over he would still be hurting too much and not nearly enough.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" The other man's dark brows drew together. "You're usually more cheerful than this. Well, a little bit more."

"Nothing." It came out more harshly than he'd intended, and not very convincing, so Blake rolled his shoulders. "I'm out of practice at this. At dealing with them."

"Eh, they're not so bad." Dex gestured to their left, toward a sultry redhead in a tiny skirt who kept glancing their way. "Take that one. Home with you after the fight, I mean. She's half in love with you already."

The girl was pretty. She was smiling. She looked more than willing to leave with Blake now—or stay. Hell, she might even follow him into a bathroom or a closet or let him take her up against the wall in a shadowed corner.

A few weeks ago, he would have done it. He had done it in the past. The women at fights like these knew what they were getting—someone rough and raw and wild. It had been a useful physical outlet for a lot of years.

And it left him cold now. Not her, but all of it. The redhead wasn't in love with him. She didn't know him, or want to. Not the good and damn sure not the bad.

Ashley knew it all, and still loved him. For now.

Dex was watching him with too much awareness, so Blake shook his head. "Not looking for that right now. She's all yours."

"Suit yourself." Dex hesitated. "This have anything to do with that rumor I heard about your pack?"

Blake kept his expression blank. "What rumor?"

"That you've got yourself a brand new member, and she's a hell of a lot prettier than Mac."

Rumors like that had put Ashley in danger in the first place. Blake flexed his fingers and felt that stupid kid's throat beneath them again. "That could get someone hurt. Or worse."

"Only if it's true." He tilted his head, narrowed his eyes. "Holy shit. It is, isn't it?"

Dex was a loner. A wolf who traveled between worlds, like all of Blake's pack brothers had been before Lucas sold them on a better dream. Dex had always seemed decent enough, but the knowledge that Lucas had two unmated females under his protection could rouse dark instinctive urges in damn near anyone.

It was rousing some pretty dark instincts in Blake right now. Dex expected their fight to be for show, but accidents happened—and a wolf with a broken neck couldn't confirm any unfortunate rumors. Or try to act on them.

Dex just grinned. "Cool the death glare, buddy. I'm not after your woman, and I can keep my mouth shut."

She's not mine.

He couldn't say it. If he said it, it would be real. "You sure you still want to fight me?"

Someone halfway across the warehouse shouted Dex's name, and he raised one hand in casual greeting. "I wasn't before, but I am now. Bring it, Blake."

For the first time since he'd hit the city limits, Blake smiled. "Oh, you can count on it."

Chapter Seventeen

The warehouse was dirty and loud. Scattered spots of harsh light gave way to near darkness, where people crowded together, yelling over the noise or quietly trading money for things Ashley didn't want to know about.

She stared at the chain-link fencing instead. Yards of it in the middle of the open space, boxing in half a dozen tattered mats laid out over the bare concrete. Blake stood in the brightly lit center of the makeshift cage, his chest and feet bare, slicked with sweat and blood.

Fighting was too tame a word for what he was doing. As she watched, he took a brutal blow to his midsection and barely flinched. His fist crashed into the other man's face, whipping his head around. Blood splattered, and the screams increased.

The whole spectacle was pain made flesh. Not physical pain, fleeting and easily healed—for a werewolf, at least—but something deeper. It coursed off Blake in waves that hit Ashley square in the gut, twisting and tightening until it left her sick and dizzy.

She closed her eyes, and Lucas steadied her with one hand on her elbow. "How long have they been at it?"

"Too fucking long," Ivan snarled from behind them. "Lucas, get your boy in line before people start asking questions."

"Maybe you shouldn't have let him fight like this," Ashley said shortly before making her way toward the ring. She didn't know what she could do to stop the fight, but logic wasn't what moved her feet. She had to get closer, be closer.

Blake.

He took another hit, and a third, shaking them off as if the pain was nothing—or even welcome. From here, she could see why Ivan was worried. Both men had blood over healed skin, their abrasions and cuts knitting together as fast as new ones could be dealt out. Only the bite mark on Blake's shoulder stayed fresh and raw, though it didn't slow him down.

Even through her horror, it was impossible not to appreciate the sheer strength and grace of his movements. He only suffered the other man's blows because he wanted them, and he returned them with animal instinct and efficiency.

No wonder Ivan had refused to send him into the ring with a human.

Another solid punch spun him around. He started to correct and froze when his gaze locked with hers.

A fraction of a second stretched out into forever. His eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in anger. Then the moment ended as his opponent jumped on his hesitation and rammed him against the chain-link fence.

The onlookers screamed, as if sensing the end of the fight in Blake's misstep. Bodies crowded around her, jostling her as they cheered and waved their arms.

Blake whipped around and laid the other wolf out with one blow.

The crowd roared and surged toward the ring. Ashley tried to fight her way through the mass of bodies, but there was too much pushing and shoving.

Then Blake was there, right in front of her, gripping her shoulders with barely restrained anger. "You shouldn't be here," he growled, already edging her back through the tangle of people, most of whom scrambled out of the way after one glimpse of the fury in his expression. "I'm going to kill Lucas."

"He brought me because I asked. Because I—" Her voice broke. "You left."

"We can talk about it after we get you somewhere safe. Somewhere away—"

"Blake!" Ivan waved at them.

Blake responded by dragging her against his body with a pressure that almost hurt.

Lucas appeared beside them and shoved a rumpled brown envelope at Blake. "Your winnings." Then he jerked his head toward an unlit exit sign on the wall. "Side door. Come on."

Blake herded her through the exit. As soon as they were out in the empty side lot, he whirled on Lucas. "What the fuck were you thinking? Anyone could have been in there."

"You were in there," Lucas shot back irritably. "Kinda the whole fucking point."

"So was Ivan. So was Dex, for fuck's sake."

Ashley stepped between them. "Can you both stop talking about me like I'm not here?"

Blake clenched his fists and looked away. "Why are you?"

Her anger flared again. "Oh, was I supposed to let you decide everything for me? Just sit at home like a good girl, waiting for you to come back? Sorry, Blake, but that's not who I am."

He flinched. "I know exactly who you are."

The sadness in the words stabbed at her. "Then you should have known I'd come after you."

"I thought—"

He cut off, but his tortured gaze darted to Lucas, revealing exactly what he thought. That once he was gone, Lucas could slide easily into the place Blake didn't have a right to claim.

Her anger turned to ice in her veins. It didn't matter what she said or did if Blake felt like he wasn't good enough, like he was always a half-second from losing her. All that mattered was that doubt. She couldn't argue with it, couldn't fight it. And she couldn't deny it because it was predicated on what could be, not what was.

Blake spun around and slammed his hand against the brick wall so hard that bits of mortar crumbled. "You don't get it," he ground out. "How hard it is to know I might have to let you go. You can't let me cross that line, Ashley. You can't, or I won't let you go."

She couldn't speak—not that there was anything to say. Nothing as simple as a reassurance could penetrate this haze of hurt and confusion, of longing and fear.

Lucas stepped into the silence. "It's late. Where are you staying, Blake?"

He shrugged without turning. "Haven't gotten a place yet."

"I'll take care of it." The alpha dragged his keys out of his pocket. "Grab your stuff. I'll drive."

Chapter Eighteen

The first night he'd met Ashley, Blake had taken her to a cheap motel.

Their alpha brought them to a fucking penthouse.

Maybe not a literal one, but everything in the room was new and crisp and shining. Blake felt grubby and out of place, raw even though the bruises from his fight had already healed.

Then Lucas left them alone, and that was even worse.

Ashley sat on the edge of the king-sized bed, her hands folded between her knees, staring at the dark television. "I didn't come here to upset you," she whispered. "Or, Christ, I don't know. Maybe I did."

Blake peeled his shirt off before the blood could dry and tried not to catch his own reflection on the way to the pristine bathroom. He scrubbed quickly, roughly, dirtying the sink the way he dirtied everything else.

He owed her an explanation. "If I'd known you'd come after me, I wouldn't have..." What? Run? He'd had to. Fight? He'd had to do that, too—though he'd ended it fast enough when it meant getting her away from Ivan and Dex.

"Wouldn't have what? Let Lucas know where you'd be?"

He gripped the bathroom door frame. "I wouldn't have gone somewhere dangerous. I left to keep you safe."

"Safe from you?" she asked softly.

It was the one thing he'd promised her from the start. Safety from the world. Safety from the pack. Safety from his needs. "Yes."

"Well...thanks, but no thanks."

He stared at her. "You can't just say that. You don't understand."

She rose and faced him. "I know that if your idea of keeping me safe means you're going to ditch me, then I'd rather take my chances."

He wasn't the only one who healed fast. The bruises around her throat were so faint they could have been shadows. The evidence of his mistake would vanish, just like the interlopers' bodies.

It was so, so tempting to let himself forget. "I promised I'd take care of you. That I'd put you first."

Her expression was somber. "How are you going to do that if you're not around?"

"Better than I'll be able to if Lucas—" Mates you. He tried to force the words out, but even that was too much. "I can't, okay? I can't do it."

"I never asked you to." Ashley took a step forward, her hands flexing as if she wanted to reach out. "I don't want him, Blake. I don't love him."

If he touched her, it would be over. He gripped both sides of the door frame, the wood groaning under his fingers. If he touched her...

Night after night, he'd reminded himself that every kiss, every caress, every second was about her. It had to be, because every night could have been his last with her. Every morning might have been the one where he had to let her go.

If he touched her now, he never would.

She didn't move. Barely breathed. "Talk to me."

"I can't," he whispered. "Ashley, I can't. I'm losing control."

Pain flashed across her face, and she looked away. "Because of me."

"Because I love you."

For a moment, she just stared at him. Then her breath hitched on a sob.

Wood splintered. He'd destroyed the door frame, but he didn't care because he was moving. He wrapped his arms around her, and it was too late to take back the words, to take back his touch. He buried his face in her hair and dragged her scent into his lungs.

And he stopped lying to himself. "It's killing me, Ashley. Not having you is killing me."

"Then don't." The words feathered over his neck, soft and tempting. "Don't let me go."

"It's selfish." The words were the right ones, but he'd lost control of his body. Holding her felt right. Stroking one hand up into her hair and the other down to the small of her back felt right. "Someone else might be your mate."

"Only if you give up on me." She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his jaw. "After everything, how can you think it wouldn't be you?"

Even the simplest kiss left him hard. "Because if wanting was enough, I would have mated you the first night."

"We didn't know each other yet." Her mouth skimmed his ear. "Love each other."

He'd loved her yesterday, too. He'd loved her, and wanted her, but he hadn't been willing to believe he could have her. She'd given him everything—her openness, her vulnerability, even her submission. He'd taken it, selflessly, like a martyr...

And he'd held himself back.

The door beeped and opened, and Lucas swore. "Shit. Let me get my bag, and I'll be out of your hair."

Ashley was warm under his hands. The mating heat, still seething beneath her skin, still primed to break over her without warning. If she didn't find a mate soon, it would fade, and that would be that until her cycle came around again. They could be lovers and partners. They could live as mates, and he could satisfy her urges as they rose, ignoring the fleeting frustration when they connected on every level but the most primal one.

Or he could give Ashley's wolf what it needed one last time—proof that Lucas might be the alpha, but Blake was the one with a claim to all of her.

Ashley loved him. The rest of her just needed time to catch up...and he needed to trust her as much as she'd trusted him.

Dragging in a deep breath, Blake put his heart in her hands. "Do you want him to leave, sweetheart?"

Ashley's eyes went wide, and her arms tightened. "I'd rather have no mate than one who isn't you. I mean it."

Blake tilted her chin up, forcing her gaze to his. "I believe you," he whispered, brushing her lips with the pad of his thumb. "That's why I want him to stay. On one condition."

Lucas groaned. "Blake..."

Blake ignored him. "Be sure, Ashley. If you let us both into your bed, only one of us is getting back out. You'll be stuck with me. And I'll be done sharing."

Chapter Nineteen

Fever. It burned in her core and fanned out to lick over her skin, fueled by the hunger in Blake's gaze. Ashley tried to imagine living with it forever—a banked fire that only had room to flare because of that empty, aching, unmated place inside her.

The thought was nothing compared to the possibility of losing Blake.

"I meant what I said," she told him.

His thumb dragged over her lips again, slow and suggestive. "He won't hold back, but it won't matter. This time, neither will I."

Just like that, the wave of heat building within her crested and broke, eliciting a helpless moan as it washed through her. "Blake—"

The entreaty vanished into smoke as another hand touched her, starting at the small of her back and sliding up her spine to the top of her dress.

Blake smiled gently. "It's okay to want him, sweetheart. It's just your wolf, needing to know."

As he said the words, it was like some part of her reached out, grasping and ravenous. She nodded quickly as Lucas's lips feathered over the bare expanse between her shoulders.

His breath kissed her skin, right at the spot where her neck met her shoulder. "Blake likes these pretty sundresses, doesn't he? And you..." His hands wrapped around her waist and glided up to rest just beneath her breasts. "Spilling out of it like a fucking goddess."

Blake traced his fingertips along the neckline and up to nudge the strap off her shoulder. "My goddess."

"Yours," Lucas agreed. He cupped her breast, and Ashley shivered as he pinched her nipple through the fabric. Then he curled his fingers under the top edge of the bodice and pinched her for real, twisting her nipple as he tugged her dress down.

She swayed back against him. He was hard all over, from his chest and hands to the erection that prodded her ass. The only things that were soft were his lips and his words, and she wanted more of both.

Blake took over, tugging the fabric down on the other side and nudging Lucas's hands out of the way so he could cup her breasts. "Unzip her dress," he rumbled, and it was an order, the kind he'd so carefully avoided giving his alpha the last time.

Lucas ignored it, gathering her full skirt in one hand instead.

Growling, Blake grabbed his wrist.

The snarl slid under Ashley's skin. The tense moment of silent challenge followed close behind, stroking the simmering heat until it blossomed into a ragged gasp.

Lucas made a soft noise of amusement and arousal as he lifted his hand to her zipper instead. "You like that, darling? A little hint of danger in your fucking?"

"No." Blake rubbed his knuckles up her throat. "She likes knowing she's mine, and you only touch her when I say you can."

The rasping of his voice almost drowned out the rasp of her zipper, and Ashley shuddered.

"I think it's both." Lucas's lips grazed the back of her neck. "You don't mind getting scratched up or bitten, do you, love? As long as everyone comes harder than they ever have before."

Blake tugged at her dress, dragging it down to her hips. "Tell him, darling."

"I like—" Cool air kissed her hot skin. "I like pleasing Blake."

Lucas laughed again. "He looks a little more than pleased to me, Ash."

It was true. Blake stared at her, utterly fixated on her tiniest moan, her slightest movement. The last time Lucas touched her, Blake had been on edge, vibrating with tension and restraint, fighting his own possessiveness to give way to his alpha.

He wasn't fighting anymore. He smiled as his thumb circled her nipple. Slow. Predatory. "She's mine. How could I be anything else?"

Ashley had to touch him. Her palms tingled as she molded her hands to the hard planes of his chest. The pulse of desire in his eyes sparked an echo low in her body, drenching her pussy in a hot throb of need.

As if he knew, Lucas slid one hand around her, down under her loosened dress. Over her belly and into her panties. He sucked in a breath as he parted her with his fingers and stroked light circles around her clit.

"Wet," he murmured. "So damn wet I could fuck you already, just like this."

Yes. Lucas behind her, inside her, grinding her against the solid wall of Blake's body. She whimpered, again when Blake pinched his fingers tight, adding just the right amount of pain to make the pleasure stand out in stark, vivid relief.

"Not yet," he murmured, cupping both of her breasts in his hands and pushing them together and up. "This is the only time you're ever going to be inside her."

"Then I'll make the most of it." Lucas pushed two fingers into her pussy, rocking the heel of his hand against her clit as he thrust them deep.

Her knees buckled, but they held her up, suspended between them. Lucas moved almost lazily, fucking her slowly with his fingers—as if Blake had given him the night, so he'd take it all.

And Blake just watched her, his thumbs teasing at her nipples, all of his attention on her, as if he'd never seen her like this.

Or as if he'd never let himself look his fill before.

"What do you want?" he whispered, his mouth so close she could feel the words, his breath. "You can have anything tonight."

"That," she gasped. It wasn't helpful, or even particularly coherent, but her head was swimming, and the rest of her was quivering. "That look."

He licked her lower lip. "What look? The one I don't have to hide anymore?" His lips found her chin, and then his teeth, the sharp, possessive nip followed by the soothing swipe of his tongue. "The one that says you're mine?"

"Y-yes."

"Good. Because you are." Simple words, but the satisfaction and relief in them was enough to shake her. But he kept going, dragging his mouth back to hers for a brief hard kiss. "This mouth is mine, isn't it?"

Oh God. "Yes."

He trailed kisses down her throat, across her collarbone, all the way to where his hands thrust her breasts upward. "And these," he murmured, tracing his tongue around her left nipple until she ached for more, something rough or direct. "They're mine, too."

Lucas scraped his teeth over the back of her shoulder. "Say it, Ash."

A shudder jolted her. She stroked her hand over Blake's cheek, then edged her thumb into his mouth, over his tongue. "Yours."

He groaned—and licked. Ran his tongue all over her thumb and shifted to do the same to her finger. Then he pulled back and smiled slowly. "Pinch your nipple."

Her scandalized protest died on her tongue. Tonight, there was no room for it, not when every filthy command would bring them closer to unimaginable intimacy.

So she obeyed instead, drawing her wet fingers around the tip of her nipple before squeezing them tight. A moan escaped her, and she dug her teeth into her lower lip.

Blake drew his hands down her hips, catching her dress and panties as he went. The fabric teased over her skin as he coaxed it lower and lower, until he revealed Lucas's hand.

His eyes blazed as he stared up her body. "Lucas is filling you up with his fingers, but this isn't his pussy, is it?"

Lucas had his other hand clenched in her hair, and shaking her head pulled at the strands, sending sharp tremors of pain racing straight to her core. They mingled with the exquisite pressure, twisting higher and tighter.

Blake covered Lucas's fingers, forcing them so deep she tried to squirm away. "I want to hear you say it, sweetheart."

A sheen of sweat broke out on her skin, and she blinked to clear her hazy vision.

The pressure eased, only to return redoubled as Blake's fingers worked inside her, too. "Say it, Ashley. Now."

"No." The word burst out of her, wrenched free by the unbearable pleasure of their fingers inside her. "He can fuck me, but only because—because..."

"Because you need it," Blake whispered, grinding the heel of Lucas's palm against her clit. "So I'm letting him."

Letting him—but also letting her. The tension splintered. Ashley came with a cry, and she rode it helplessly. Wave after wave wracked her, prolonged and intensified by their thrusting fingers.

She was shaking by the time they let her come down, held upright only by their bodies. Blake surged to his feet again, crushing her back against Lucas as he caught her mouth in a rough, claiming kiss.

Then they were moving, laying her down. The mattress was soft and cool beneath her, a sharp counterpoint to the hard male hands roving over her heated flesh. The kiss went on and on, Blake's tongue stroking hers, his hands on her face, urging her to open. Lucas's hands skimmed up her inner thighs with the same wordless command, and she gasped as his rough jaw rasped over her sensitive flesh.

Blake pulled back, one hand already drifting down her body. "Are you going to open for him as pretty as you do for me?"

Before she could answer, they were pushing and pulling her legs wide, baring her wet flesh to Lucas's warm breath. She jolted at the first touch of his tongue—careful but not hesitant. Exact.

Blake's fingers bit into her thigh, possessive even as he held her in place for Lucas. "Watch him taste you."

She looked down. Lucas stared back, his eyes locked with hers as he flicked his tongue over her clit and then delved deeper, sliding inside her.

The rush of pleasure arched her back. Her eyes slid shut as he took up a sinuous rhythm of caresses, each one delicate and precise—at first. But it soon gave way to animal hunger, her head spinning as Lucas devoured her. He growled, the low noise vibrating through her core. He sucked her clit between his lips, lashing her with quick blows of his tongue. Too focused, too rough.

She tried to squirm away, but Blake was there, helping Lucas hold her steady. "Is it too much, sweetheart? Or just too good?"

All she could manage was a snarl as she bucked against their restraining hands.

One of Blake's legs slid over hers, the rasp of his jeans as sensual a shock as how effortlessly he pinned her in place. With his hand free, he scraped his fingernails lightly across her skin, trailing upwards until his fingers met her throat.

He'd touched her like this before. Soft caresses, soothing pressure, even teasing warning. This time was different. Rougher. His hand tightened, just shy of cutting off her breath. "Open your eyes, Ashley. Look at me."

She obeyed automatically, compelled by the dark thread of ownership in his voice.

'This is what you need, isn't it?" His eyes were dark, too. "To fight us and lose."

It was such an intricate dance—power and pleasure, giving and taking. Dominance and submission. But a part of her—the dangerous part, the one that could rip a human to shreds, by accident or design—needed to know there was someone strong enough to stop her if she ever went too far.

Someone strong enough to save her.

She scratched her nails down Blake's shoulder, hard and unforgiving. He snarled and caught her wrists, dragging both above her head and pinning them there in an iron grip. His other hand returned to her throat, his thumb rubbing over her pulse as he used the weight of his body to hold her down.

"You can be yourself with me," he murmured, tracing her jaw. "As strong, as rough, as wild as you want."

She couldn't lie still, but she couldn't move, either. All she could do was feel, and even that spiraled into dizzy wonder as Lucas thrust his fingers into her pussy again. Hard and shallow this time, pumping against that spot inside her that stole her breath.

"He's going to make you come." Blake's idle caresses drifted across her cheek, so innocent compared to the harshness of his hand pinning hers. Sweet and soft, just like his voice—but his words were anything but. "Once or twice won't be enough for him. He'll fuck you with his fingers until you're so wet you beg for his whole damn hand."

Ashley whimpered.

Blake tilted her face up, forcing her to meet his eyes. "I won't let him. That kind of surrender is mine. Isn't it?"

"Yes." She could barely grind the word through clenched teeth. Her whole body, her whole being, had gone tense. Waiting.

"Lucas?"

His fingers slowed, dragging a cry of protest from her raw throat, and he lifted his head. "Yeah?"

Blake settled his hand across her neck again, his gaze never leaving hers. "She's ready. Make her come."

Lucas curled his fingers and fucked her faster. Fire blazed over her nerve endings, a fire stoked by Blake's tightening grip on her throat. He squeezed, cutting off what little breath she could drag into her lungs. It swept outward, melting into fervent, all-consuming bliss.

And through it all Blake watched her, rapt, possessive hunger shining in his eyes long after he loosened his fingers enough to let her breathe, gasp. Scream.

She was quivering, shuddering, when Lucas pulled away. He climbed to the bed on his knees, his wet fingers on his belt buckle. "You look well-fucked already, Ash," he rasped. "Pretty and flushed."

"She's always pretty." Blake released her wrists and smoothed her hair back from her face. "Perfect."

Ashley was still trying to catch her breath when Lucas loomed over her, naked and aroused—and licking his lips. "Sweet." He nipped at her jaw, then soothed the spot with his tongue. "Don't forget sweet."

Blake licked the other side of her chin. "I never do."

Lucas brushed his mouth over hers. Turning her head just a little left her tumbling from one kiss to another, and she moaned as Blake licked her lips this time. Soft at first, then he drove his tongue into her mouth with a hoarse groan.

Even his kiss was different—less restrained, more demanding—and she fell into it, drinking him in as Lucas sank his fingers into her hair, holding her still for a single long, deep thrust.

She broke the kiss with a ragged cry. "Fuck!"

"Shh." Blake tilted her face back to his. "Wrap your legs around him, sweetheart. Help him get deeper. That's what you want."

The moment her knees gripped his sides, Lucas flexed his hips with a growl. The sound shivered through her, opening her in ways she couldn't describe with words. It was primal, animal, the now-familiar sexual test reduced to its essence.

Lust. Affection. Need.

Lucas watched her with shadowed eyes as he took her hand and laid it on his cheek. Then he grinned, so sudden and wicked that her heart stuttered, and eased up, bracing himself over her on one arm. "Touch yourself."

She blinked at him. "W-what?"

His fingers tightened around her wrist, and he bit the heel of her hand—hard. "Touch your clit," he said, enunciating every word with painful clarity. "Make yourself come on my cock, and then I'll fuck you."

Blake took her other hand and drew three of her fingers deep into his mouth with a teasing rumble. Before she could gather her scattered wits, he lifted his head. "And you thought I was bossy."

"You are." The words came out breathless, low.

"Not like him." Blake guided her hand down her body.

She touched her clit, a gentle graze that curled her toes.

"Again," Lucas commanded.

But something lurked beneath the stern authority in his voice—a plea, one that dissolved the last of her hesitation. This was the one thing neither of them could demand, not until she was willing to give it.

Her pleasure. Ashley circled her clit again, this time with a firm pressure that would have been delicious enough even without slick fingertips still wet from Blake's mouth.

A muscle in Lucas's jaw jumped. "Harder."

The denial sprang to her lips, and, for once, she held nothing back. "No."

Blake laughed, low and warm. "That's my girl," he whispered, stroking her wrist. "Make him earn it."

Lucas's eyes flashed gold, but his movements were lazy as he slowly eased his hips back. "He likes you a little disobedient, doesn't he, love?" he murmured. "It's a wonder he ever lets you out of his bed."

Then he drove into her, harsh and sudden, hard enough to wrench another cry from her. Ashley arched, desperate for another thrust, but he went still instead. She protested wordlessly, reaching for him. He soothed her with a soft noise and a quick shake of his head.

"Fight and lose," he whispered. Just the words had her clenching around him, drawing him deeper, and he clamped his fingers around her wrist with a groan. "Do it, Ash. It'll be worth it."

"Harder," she echoed, only this time it was agreement. Surrender. She toyed with her clit, every slow caress making her wetter, hotter, until she could feel everything—the tiniest shift of his hips, even the eager throb pulsing through his cock.

Then Blake's hand covered hers, pressing down as he guided her touch. One of his fingers slipped between hers, bigger and rougher.

Better.

She choked on a moan, and Lucas dropped his head back with a curse. "Jesus fuck."

"More," Blake commanded against her cheek, his guiding touch turning into a demand. He knew how firm, how fast, knew her as he stroked her pleasure higher. "Show him how hard you can come."

The orgasm crashed through her with breathtaking intensity. She gasped and shuddered as she rode it out, the kind of stormy pleasure that came and went quickly, leaving you wrecked in its wake.

Only Lucas had other ideas. He slammed her wrists to the bed above her head, pinning them there as he began to thrust, fast and deep. There was no build-up, nothing to ease her into another orgasm, just a savage pounding that tipped her over the screaming edge.

Blake's fingers twined with hers, anchoring her in place as the world fell apart.

"That's it, love." Lucas's fingers skimmed her open mouth, dipping inside before trailing down to pluck at her nipple. "Come all over me."

She couldn't breathe. Her whole body was burning, liquid, and she wanted more. Everything. She strained against their hands, bucked her hips to meet every thrust, and it still wasn't enough.

Lucas dipped his head and flicked his tongue over her nipple. He drew the hard peak into his mouth, adding to the molten heat until a pleading whimper caught in her throat.

Then he bit her.

It was fierce, almost brutal, and it shocked her out of the steady, inexorable rise and fall of pleasure into a relief beyond words, beyond sound. She screamed anyway, screamed and pleaded and begged as his thrusts sped into desperation and he finally spilled inside her.

Her pulse pounded in her ears, almost drowning out low, rasping words and her own harsh, ragged breathing. But inside, silence. Hesitation.

Blake's grip on her hand tightened to the point of pain. "Ash?"

She turned her head, blindly seeking his mouth. And he met her, lips parted, his kiss hungry and desperate and raw. She spun toward him as Lucas slid away to curl against her back, his body warm and soothing...but not hers.

Blake sank his fingers into her hair and pulled her back. "Do you know?"

"Yes." Her tongue felt thick, clumsy, stumbling over words. "I need you."

He kissed her again, a soft, lingering caress this time. He cradled her head with one hand, gently urging her to follow as he rolled to his back. "Take me."

It was the last thing she expected him to say. "I—I thought..."

"We have the rest of our lives to figure it out." He smoothed his hands down her sides to her hips. "You need me. So take me."

She was trembling as she sat up. Lucas helped her, kissing the back of her shoulder and steadying her hands when she reached past the straining evidence of Blake's arousal to his belt. It was silly to be nervous—she repeated the words silently, over and over.

But the nerves didn't fade until Lucas whispered in her ear. "He was your first. Now he'll be the only one. And so will you."

Yes. The possessiveness rose from nowhere, overwhelming her as she jerked open Blake's jeans and bared his cock. She'd been so focused on belonging to him, but that was only half of what awaited them.

Blake lifted his hips, thrusting up into her hands. "All yours, Ash. Forever."

He was hard, so hard, the head of his cock already slick with moisture. She bent to lick it away, her grip on his shaft tightening when he groaned and pushed up again. "Fucking hell, sweetheart. Your tongue."

Her nipples grazed the denim of his jeans as she closed her mouth around him, clumsy in her ardor. Lucas wound his hand in her hair and guided her to a smoother rhythm, bobbing her head shallowly before pushing her lower. Deeper.

"Give me your hands," Blake ground out.

She reached up, and he twined their fingers together, his grip tightening with a hiss as Lucas guided her head down. "Take me all. I know you can."

She'd choke if she took any more of him, but she did it gladly, gliding her tongue along the underside of his thick length as he thrust up. The tip of his cock hit the back of her throat, and she swallowed him.

"Fuck!" His hips bucked, driving him deeper, and he froze like that for an endless moment before tugging at her hands. "Damn it, get the fuck up here and ride me."

She climbed over him, shuddering when her clit rubbed along his wet shaft. Instinct dictated her movements as she rocked up, positioning the blunt head at her entrance.

Taking him was effortless, right, and they both groaned as he pushed up into her, meeting her thrust with one of his own as if they'd done it a thousand times. He clutched her hands, giving her leverage to lift herself again as he withdrew. "Take it, Ash. Get off on me."

"Blake—" It was maddeningly slow, but her legs would barely hold her, much less let her fuck him the way she wanted—fast, furious, until pleasure washed them both away.

She rocked instead, circling her hips in a hard grind as she moved. Blake dug his head back into the pillow, his eyes squeezing shut. "This is where I belong. Inside you. Only me."

"Yes." The first wild pulses of release began to flutter in her core, along with something wilder. Something primal.

As if he felt it, too, Blake growled and thrust up. "Take it. Take your pleasure."

She pulled one hand free and braced it on his chest. With the other, she tugged his hand down to where their bodies were joined. "Help me."

His thumb settled over her clit. "Now?"

"Oh God—" Her muscles seized with unbearable tension, and Ashley clawed at him, trying to steel herself against the frantic, feverish ecstasy.

She was losing control, every last wall falling, and she whimpered his name as she came with a ferocity, a power, that bordered on pain.

And then she was falling. She hit the bed with Blake over her, still inside her. He pushed himself up and drove into her with a tortured moan. "Ash—Ash, fuck."

She didn't just hear the words, she touched them. They echoed in her head, in her heart, in every place she felt him, bright and warm.

And then he came. His pleasure rushed up her spine, and he didn't even speak the words this time. He was moaning, growling, as his thoughts bled into hers. Yes, yes—mine.

Ashley clutched at his back and gasped at the pinpricks of pain as her nails broke the skin. Not because it hurt, but because it poured through her as surely as his pleasure. They were entwined—not just physically, but in every way. Her breath was his breath, his heartbeat hers.

He rocked his hips with a startled groan, and she realized he was still hard inside her. His rock turned into a thrust, and then another, each one sparking their dual pleasure. "I can—" He shuddered and lifted her leg, grinding deeper. "Fuck, I can feel you."

It couldn't go on, and yet it did, passion that didn't have to build again because it never faded, never stopped. Blake.

Ashley. He kissed her cheeks, her jaw, seized her lips and kissed her as he fucked her, as lewd pleas echoed in her head. Squeeze me tighter, come again, feel it with me. How good it is when you come around my cock.

Her teeth sank into his lip as he drank in her groan. It was too much, too intimate, the one perfect thing that had been missing from her life. She loved him—it felt like she'd always loved him—and here he was, offering her complete, unguarded access not only to his body, but to his mind and heart, as well.

She could give him no less in return. So she let go, let the thundering pleasure overwhelm her completely, and had to clench her teeth to hold back a scream when Blake came with a roar.

So much. Too much. She was dizzy with it, her pleasure feeding into his and coming back to her magnified a hundred times. And he was still moving, still impossibly hard as he reared up and hooked his hands under her knees. "I can't get deep enough," he rasped, thrusting into her at a sharper angle. "I can't. Get. Enough."

Never. The mating fever had vanished, but a different sort of hunger had taken its place. Ashley embraced it, fell into it, into blinding, unending pleasure, and then into darkness.

Chapter Twenty

Blake lay curled dazedly around Ashley's limp body for several minutes before he realized Lucas was still in the room.

He was too drained to move. Easing to one side so he didn't collapse on top of Ashley had been challenge enough. Wrapping himself around her had been more than he had the energy for, but he couldn't stop himself. He needed her warm and close, tucked against his chest so he could count each breath.

"She's okay," he told their alpha hoarsely. "I can feel it. Her."

Lucas stood beside the bed, his shirt clutched in his hands. "I've heard stories about the bond," he said quietly. "I've never seen it, though. Not like that."

Ashley's skin was still damp with sweat. Blake brushed her hair away from her cheek just to have an excuse to keep touching her. "I didn't realize. How much it would be. How intense the bond is."

"For life doesn't just mean forever."

No, it didn't. They were bound now, for as many years as they both had—and he wouldn't want to live one heartbeat beyond her. Not that he'd have to. When he settled his hand over her heart, he could feel its steady beat, keeping perfect time with his own.

They were together. In everything. "I know. She's mine, and I'm hers."

Lucas swept up his shoes and took a step toward the door. "I'm gonna go. We can talk tomorrow."

As Blake watched his alpha head for the door, sympathy broke through his satisfaction. No matter how much Lucas had wanted the best for a friend, some part of him had to feel this loss. And now Blake understood just how great a loss it was—and how much the rest of the pack was missing.

"Ashley isn't the only one," he said softly. "We have Grace now, and we'll find others. We'll find your mate."

Lucas stopped, and the corner of his mouth tilted up in a rueful smile. "I know. Don't worry about me."

"Someone has to. You're too busy worrying about the rest of us."

"That's my job. My life." He nodded toward the bed. "You have a different one now."

He pulled the door shut carefully behind him, but Blake was already turning his attention back to Ashley. She stirred and reached for him before finally opening her eyes. She didn't say anything, only stroked the back of her hand over his cheek.

She didn't need to say anything. Her thoughts weren't as distinct now, but she was still there. Nestled somewhere between his mind and his heart, warm and brilliant, filling him with the sort of peace he'd never imagined existed.

He could reach out. He knew it instinctively, that he could wrap himself around that warmth inside and whisper words into her heart. But this time he wanted to say it out loud. "I love you."

"I know." Ashley's smile trembled, and she laid her fingers over his lips. "Your eyes, that's what I noticed the first time I saw you. So blue. Beautiful."

"You trusted me." He kissed her fingertips softly. "You had no reason to. No one had ever deserved your trust. And you were still fearless."

"Not fearless," she countered. "Desperate. Trapped, and you set me free."

She might think that, but she hadn't seen herself the way he had. Weak, beaten down...and still fighting. "How about we spend the next hundred years arguing about who's right?"

Her smile faded, and she breathed a shaky sigh full of emotion. "A hundred years, huh? Is that all?"

Even a thousand wouldn't be enough, but he'd take every day he could get. "If we haven't come up with something else to bicker over by then, we're not trying hard enough."

"As long as you love me."

Blake caught her hand and guided it up to his face. "You never have to ask again," he whispered, and let himself feel all of it. His passion, his pride. His love, not just for what she was, but who she was, and what they could build together.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, buried her face in his shoulder, and told him without words that she felt exactly the same.

Epilogue

In nearly a month, Grace still hadn't relaxed.

Ashley watched her as she poured tea. The girl gripped her cup with a careful control born of practice, but she still held it like a weapon. Or, rather, like she could smash it against the table and turn it into a weapon in the blink of an eye, if she had to.

"It's good," she said after the first sip. "The tea, I mean. Did Connor get it for you?"

"He did." Ashley hid her helpless smile behind her cup. "I take it he's been after you to give him a list of things you need?"

Grace bit her lower lip, but Ashley swore she'd almost smiled, too. "He said if I don't give him pointers, he'll start buying stuff at random. I don't know how to make him stop."

"You can't. You just have to indulge him." She set down her cup. "He wants to do something for you, Grace. Let him?"

"Why does he want to? He hasn't tried to..." Grace stared into her tea and cleared her throat. "I don't want to give him the wrong idea. I could hurt him."

It wasn't surprising that she would assume Connor's overtures were about sex, or that they were calculated maneuvers in an effort to get something in return. Ashley's heart ached for Grace, but she also knew that nothing as simple as mere words could convince her to let go of her fear.

And for good reason. Her fear had served her well, kept her alive. In time, she would learn that she didn't need it here, but that was what it would take. Time.

Ashley busied herself with stirring a bit more honey into her tea. "Let Connor worry about himself, okay?"

"I don't want to hurt him." The words were soft, almost self-conscious. "I didn't know we could be like that."

"Like what?"

"Sweet. But he is." Grace glanced up. "And you are."

So were Blake, and Lucas, and Jud. "So is Mac."

Grace went still. Her tea cup wobbled, and she glanced down as she steadied it. "I don't think Mac trusts me."

"Mac trusts everyone. Exactly as much as he has to," Ashley added ruefully.

"I stabbed him. He shouldn't trust me, and he doesn't. He's always..." She shrugged helplessly. "When I was on my own, sometimes I'd go into a store and the owner would follow me around and offer to help me, just so I'd know he was watching. But Mac doesn't even offer. He just does things. Like he doesn't want me touching anything."

"That's not you, it's Mac. How he is." The way he expressed his concern was through actions, not words, and he had always been concerned about Grace.

"I don't think—"

What she didn't think remained a mystery, because Blake chose that moment to shove open the door to their room. "Close your eyes, Ash. Your present is coming in."

She squeezed her eyes shut as quickly as possible, but she couldn't resist peeking. Blake backed into the room, carrying one end of a large, heavy bookcase. Mac carried the other end, and winked when he caught her looking.

She shut her eyes again, then covered them for good measure. "I don't need a present, Blake."

"Doesn't matter, you're still getting one. And if you complain, it'll be two."

She didn't need to look to know he was grinning. She heard the happiness in his voice, felt it vibrating through the room in warm waves. "Fine, but that means I'm giving you a present. Or two."

Mac snorted. "Hey, my virgin ears."

"Watch it," Blake drawled, "or you're exiting over the balcony."

An empty threat, belied by his cheerful tone. "Can I look yet?" Ashley asked.

Wood scraped against wood, and the bookcase settled on the floor with a soft thump. "Okay, now you can."

It was even more beautiful at second glance, with delicate scrollwork and a rich, dark stain. Ashley rose and crossed the room because she had to touch it, and tears burned her eyes as she ran her hand over the satiny surface of the wood. "I love it."

"At the rate you pick up books, I'll have to make a second." Blake wrapped his arms around her, drawing her to his chest as he rested his chin on top of her head. "But I think I can keep up with you."

The door closed, and Ashley looked over to find that Mac and Grace had slipped quietly from the room. "Don't worry. I may be slowing down soon."

"On the books?"

"On most things." She touched one shelf of the bookcase again, and it was all she could do to keep the words from spilling out in an ecstatic rush. "Do you think you could build a crib?"

Blake froze. Then one hand spread wide and slid down to span her belly. "Do you mean..."

"Yes." Her heart thumped wildly, and she covered his hand with hers. "I'm pregnant."

Blake swept her up and spun her around, his joyful laughter filling the room until he stopped abruptly. "Wait, I shouldn't be spinning you."

"Yes, you should. I won't break."

Blake nipped her chin, still holding her aloft effortlessly. "How do you know? How long have you known?"

"A few days. Connor must have rush-ordered about six dozen pregnancy tests." She framed Blake's face with her hands. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but I needed to be sure."

Blake carried her to the couch and sat with her across his lap, his hand drifting back to her abdomen. "You're pregnant," he repeated, grinning crookedly. "We're going to have a baby. Our baby."

"You might not be so excited when our bond means you can't stop throwing up because of my morning sickness."

He huffed. "I'll deal. But I'd puke three times a day if it made you feel better."

"A true romantic." She kissed him and pressed her forehead to his. "I thought I'd be nervous or scared, but I'm so glad that there isn't room for anything else."

He spread his fingers again, stretching her dress taut against her body. "This morning I didn't think it was possible to be happier. Shows what I knew. You keep making me happier every damn day."

And it was just the beginning. They had forever to live and laugh and love, surrounded by their pack, secure in the knowledge that neither of them would ever be alone—or lonely—again.

For now, there was no better way to celebrate their union than with a primal, physical expression of it. Her fever had quieted—satisfied not only by their mating, but by the new life growing inside her—but her desire for Blake would never fade.

So she slipped her fingers beneath his collar and stroked the hot skin between his shoulder blades. "Show me," she whispered.

He rolled her beneath him on the couch, his hands in her hair, his lips on hers, and did. Slowly, carefully, every exquisite second heightened by the way their hearts beat as one, a pounding rhythm that rose and fell in perfect harmony.

Blake was her life, her destiny. Her mate.

End of Part Three.
Turn the page to find out more about Grace!

Copyright Information

Protecting Their Mate, Part Three

Copyright © 2015, 2017 by Moira Rogers
Previously published under the name Mia Thorne.

This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles and reviews.