Read Online Craved by an Alpha by Felicity Heaton - Free Book Online
Authors: Felicity Heaton
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circles beneath her eyes had finally disappeared, leaving her looking as beautiful as he had remembered.
As beautiful as the photograph of her that he cherished.
The cool mist of morning formed tiny crystal beads of water on her dark hair, causing the strands of her twisted knot at the back of her head to become spikes. It clung to the shoulders of her stone fleece too. The drops clinging to her transported him back to the countless times they had trekked out from the village through the snow in their leopard forms and how the white powder would cling to her beautiful silver coat. She had always stopped in the snow to shake it off, ending up with even more on her rather than less.
The last time that it had happened was as clear as day to him, a memory that would stay with him forever.
He had approached her and had licked the snow from her coat, and she had turned towards him and rubbed her cheek across his, the action tender and one that had touched him deeply. She had marked him with her scent, and had marked herself with his at the same time.
“Cavanaugh?” Her voice yanked him back to the forest and he stared through the trees at her for a second before realising that he had stopped walking and she was much further ahead of him, standing at the top of a steep dirt incline.
He shook his head and strode through the trees, stepping over the thick roots that littered the forest floor, and avoiding crushing the huge insects and small mammals under his boots. He wrapped his hands around the straps of his heavy backpack and adjusted it before scaling the incline, using the trees to navigate a path up to her, bracing his boots against their bases.
When he reached her, she was still frowning at him, her honey-coloured eyes warmed by concern.
“I didn’t sleep much.” It was the only explanation he was going to offer her. If she pushed, he might lie and say it was solely because he had wanted to protect her.
In reality, it was partly because he had been as hard as a steel pole in his trunks all night, aroused by the thought that she slept in only a flimsy top and shorts beneath her thick sleeping bag and the memories of her hands on his chest and the fire that had burned in her eyes.
Need he had felt in her and had commanded him to satisfy his mate.
She walked on ahead of him again, her hips swaying in her beige trousers, drawing his gaze down to her backside.
Cavanaugh scrubbed a hand over his mouth and groaned under his breath. He wasn’t sure he could last another night sleeping close to her. He had never slept with her before, not even in such an innocent fashion, with them tucked into separate sleeping bags. If he couldn’t find a spot to sleep in where he could have more distance between them, he was liable to leap on her and act on his desire. He wasn’t sure that was a good idea, even though his body and his mind were screaming that it was.
It had been ten years since he had touched a woman, and since one had touched him. Ten years since he had been with Eloise. She had him fired up and constantly on edge around her, driven mad by his need of her. He had to rein it in though and somehow retain control, for both of their sakes.
He dragged his gaze away from her, forcing himself to take in the forest as he walked. They were moving away from the river, taking a shortcut to a point where they could cross it. From there, it was a steep and tricky trek up the side of the mountain. He checked his watch. It wasn’t even noon. They were making good time. If they kept on like this, they might reach the top of the vertical ascent that lay ahead of them by nightfall.
Cavanaugh slowed down, not wanting that to happen. He had planned to stop at the base of the sheer climb up the side of one of the mountains—the only path to the village. Eloise wouldn’t settle for that now. They would reach it by early afternoon. At best, he could convince her to stop halfway up the climb, where there was a cave his kin used as a
As beautiful as the photograph of her that he cherished.
The cool mist of morning formed tiny crystal beads of water on her dark hair, causing the strands of her twisted knot at the back of her head to become spikes. It clung to the shoulders of her stone fleece too. The drops clinging to her transported him back to the countless times they had trekked out from the village through the snow in their leopard forms and how the white powder would cling to her beautiful silver coat. She had always stopped in the snow to shake it off, ending up with even more on her rather than less.
The last time that it had happened was as clear as day to him, a memory that would stay with him forever.
He had approached her and had licked the snow from her coat, and she had turned towards him and rubbed her cheek across his, the action tender and one that had touched him deeply. She had marked him with her scent, and had marked herself with his at the same time.
“Cavanaugh?” Her voice yanked him back to the forest and he stared through the trees at her for a second before realising that he had stopped walking and she was much further ahead of him, standing at the top of a steep dirt incline.
He shook his head and strode through the trees, stepping over the thick roots that littered the forest floor, and avoiding crushing the huge insects and small mammals under his boots. He wrapped his hands around the straps of his heavy backpack and adjusted it before scaling the incline, using the trees to navigate a path up to her, bracing his boots against their bases.
When he reached her, she was still frowning at him, her honey-coloured eyes warmed by concern.
“I didn’t sleep much.” It was the only explanation he was going to offer her. If she pushed, he might lie and say it was solely because he had wanted to protect her.
In reality, it was partly because he had been as hard as a steel pole in his trunks all night, aroused by the thought that she slept in only a flimsy top and shorts beneath her thick sleeping bag and the memories of her hands on his chest and the fire that had burned in her eyes.
Need he had felt in her and had commanded him to satisfy his mate.
She walked on ahead of him again, her hips swaying in her beige trousers, drawing his gaze down to her backside.
Cavanaugh scrubbed a hand over his mouth and groaned under his breath. He wasn’t sure he could last another night sleeping close to her. He had never slept with her before, not even in such an innocent fashion, with them tucked into separate sleeping bags. If he couldn’t find a spot to sleep in where he could have more distance between them, he was liable to leap on her and act on his desire. He wasn’t sure that was a good idea, even though his body and his mind were screaming that it was.
It had been ten years since he had touched a woman, and since one had touched him. Ten years since he had been with Eloise. She had him fired up and constantly on edge around her, driven mad by his need of her. He had to rein it in though and somehow retain control, for both of their sakes.
He dragged his gaze away from her, forcing himself to take in the forest as he walked. They were moving away from the river, taking a shortcut to a point where they could cross it. From there, it was a steep and tricky trek up the side of the mountain. He checked his watch. It wasn’t even noon. They were making good time. If they kept on like this, they might reach the top of the vertical ascent that lay ahead of them by nightfall.
Cavanaugh slowed down, not wanting that to happen. He had planned to stop at the base of the sheer climb up the side of one of the mountains—the only path to the village. Eloise wouldn’t settle for that now. They would reach it by early afternoon. At best, he could convince her to stop halfway up the climb, where there was a cave his kin used as a
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