a narrow cot in a windowless, monk-like cell, waiting for the evening to arrive—waiting for his “hosts” to leave their beds and summon him.
The wait was interminable. He’d checked on his men, who slept in shifts, not trusting the promise their captors had made to do them no harm. Guntram worried about their safety should something go wrong in the dark realm. If he didn’t come back with Gabriella, Alex would have an even bigger problem on his hands. Guntram knew the smartest thing for the vampires to do would be to make the entire team “disappear” rather than release them to carry the tale back to their clan.
However, his wolves’ fate didn’t weigh heaviest on his conscience. They’d been handpicked by him, knew the risk they’d faced when they’d snuck into enemy territory. They’d face death the same way he would—fighting for every last breath but resigned to their fate. They were all warriors, and their destiny was to sacrifice for the good of the clan.
No, his heart wasn’t burdened by their fate. Instead, he worried about the woman again. Gabriella wasn’t a warrior, although she’d fought many battles. She was a woman at her core. She ought to have been covered long ago, filled with cubs, cosseted and pampered as any breedable wolf was entitled to be.
Her abduction was as much his fault as Alex’s. As a male, he had the duty to protect a female, whatever the means, including taking her and forcing her to his will. Since she’d never accepted a mate from within her own rank, she’d lost the right to refuse a lesser suit.
His protection had enabled her to continue to remain free. His backing had given her a false sense of security. She’d kept her status as alpha of her pack, kept her wealth and her autonomy. Long ago, he’d stopped wondering why she refused to follow her natural path. She’d grown into a goddess in his mind, and as long as she craved her freedom, and more, because he didn’t want to see her covered by another male, he’d silently given his support.
Even to the point of watching over her when her heat grew so intense that she had to alleviate the cramping desire by seeking trysts with lesser creatures. Hovering outside motel rooms and sex-club dungeons, knowing what she did with men she didn’t give a damn about, hadn’t lessened his desire for her.
He’d denied his own urges, shoving them deep inside. She’d damn near made a eunuch of him.
If Alex was to be believed, the last thing she wanted from him was everything he’d ever offered her. She didn’t want his protection—she wanted him to prove his physical strength was greater than hers, wanted him to prove he was even more determined to have her than she was to refuse his suit.
The formula for breaking through her icy reserve was simple. Demolish every argument, every show of resistance. Restrain her if need be, never let her get the upper hand—but do it “respectfully.”
Guntram had snorted when Alex added that caveat. How did one “respectfully” conquer a woman?
With his body tightening with arousal at the thought of Gabriella spread beneath him, her eyes glaring daggers while her body moistened and heated, Guntram sat up and swung his legs to the side of the cot. A one-fisted rub wasn’t going to cure what ailed him. He needed action, needed to break something, put a fist through something hard to dull the sharp edge of his longing.
Like an answer to a prayer, a knock sounded at the door. At last.
The blonde Born, Natalie, stood outside his door with a dark, burly Revenant who kept close to her back. Her mate perhaps? By the glower on his face, he knew Guntram had thrown her to the ground.
“You ready?” she asked.
Since he’d slept in his clothes, he nodded. “Just let me get my gear,” he said, going to the corner where he’d propped the sword he’d selected and the knives he would strap to his belt and inside the top of his boot. A thin and supple steel garrote had already been
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