Read Online Highland Wolf Pact: Blood Reign: A Scottish Werewolf Shifter Romance by Selena Kitt - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Selena Kitt
Ads: Link
going full-on wolf and attacking the image in front of him. He knew it wasn’t real— couldn’t be real. He would simply embarrass himself and jump straight into the water, and then have to drag himself out and shake off like a wet dog.
Griff held himself back, staring at the dragon, who stared right back at him.
He felt it happening, before he heard them gasp. His eyes were turning red, mirroring the dragon’s own blood-red gaze. Usually, when his eyes turned, he was feeling something very strong—mostly anger. Although, to his chagrin, his mother used to like to tell people that every time she nursed him, his eyes would turn red. But now, in this moment, he wasn’t feeling anger—an emotion he often associated with strength.
No, he was on edge, certainly, senses more alive than they might ever have been in his entire life, at least while he was in human form, but it wasn’t anger that filled him now.
It was power.
Pure, raw, unadulterated power.
He felt as if he, like the image of the dragon before him, could simply spread wings and fly away. He could burn cities to the ground with a simple sneeze. Fry a man to a crisp with a cough. And if he wanted to? He could rule them all.
Griff struggled to contain this feeling, to make sense of it. Gory hell, even his cock was hard with excitement—he felt like he had another sword under his plaid!
Then the dragon turned its head. It had no body Griff could see—mayhaps the rest of it was buried in the pool. He knew this thought would drive him mad if he lingered on it, trying to find the rest of the dragon who couldn’t really exist that appeared before him and filled him with such feeling.
But then the beast turned its scaly head and looked at Bridget.
Griff moved without thinking. He saw it happen—saw the beast’s eyes flash silver, instead of red, saw Bridget’s eyes, like an answering call, flash silver, too. That grey-green moved all the way to the other end of the spectrum, her eyes glowing, like someone gone blind.
“No!” Griff charged, leaping over the corner of the pool to cut the distance, nearly losing his footing on the slippery rock as he tackled the young woman, her ceremonial sword still flaming, aloft, pointing at the dragon’s head rising up from the center of the water.
He heard the other woman, Aleesa, cry out, heard Alaric shout, but he paid neither of them any mind as he covered Bridget’s body with his own, taking her down to the wet rocks with him.
Bridget’s sword dropped, hissing into the water behind them. She cried out as he covered her, mindful of his weight, not to crush her, just to keep her safe from harm. She stared up at him in wonder, their eyes locked, and for a moment he saw himself, the red heat of his own eyes reflected in the silver pools of hers.
“Griff,” she whispered, and he felt the way his cock hardened at the sound of his name in her mouth. His erection strained against the soft, silky material of her robe, and beyond that, against her incredible softness. He had never wanted a woman more than he wanted her in that moment, and if Alaric hadn’t called his name, too, he might have rolled her over and taken her without thinking—right then, right there.
“Are y’all right, lass?” Griff asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“I did’na need rescuing!” Bridget struggled under him, movements that didn’t make him any less hard for her. In fact, quite the opposite. She pushed against his chest with both hands—the woman had a surprising amount of strength for a human girl, even without armor and a sword. “Ye’re such an impetuous fool! The dragon’n’t’lady could’ve told ye what ye wanted t’know.”
“What?” Griff puzzled at her words. “What lady?”
“Did ye n’see ’er?” She wiggled out from under him and he saw that her robe was in disarray, parting slightly in the front, giving him a view of her pale, creamy thigh. Griff saw her noticing him looking at the gap in her
Griff held himself back, staring at the dragon, who stared right back at him.
He felt it happening, before he heard them gasp. His eyes were turning red, mirroring the dragon’s own blood-red gaze. Usually, when his eyes turned, he was feeling something very strong—mostly anger. Although, to his chagrin, his mother used to like to tell people that every time she nursed him, his eyes would turn red. But now, in this moment, he wasn’t feeling anger—an emotion he often associated with strength.
No, he was on edge, certainly, senses more alive than they might ever have been in his entire life, at least while he was in human form, but it wasn’t anger that filled him now.
It was power.
Pure, raw, unadulterated power.
He felt as if he, like the image of the dragon before him, could simply spread wings and fly away. He could burn cities to the ground with a simple sneeze. Fry a man to a crisp with a cough. And if he wanted to? He could rule them all.
Griff struggled to contain this feeling, to make sense of it. Gory hell, even his cock was hard with excitement—he felt like he had another sword under his plaid!
Then the dragon turned its head. It had no body Griff could see—mayhaps the rest of it was buried in the pool. He knew this thought would drive him mad if he lingered on it, trying to find the rest of the dragon who couldn’t really exist that appeared before him and filled him with such feeling.
But then the beast turned its scaly head and looked at Bridget.
Griff moved without thinking. He saw it happen—saw the beast’s eyes flash silver, instead of red, saw Bridget’s eyes, like an answering call, flash silver, too. That grey-green moved all the way to the other end of the spectrum, her eyes glowing, like someone gone blind.
“No!” Griff charged, leaping over the corner of the pool to cut the distance, nearly losing his footing on the slippery rock as he tackled the young woman, her ceremonial sword still flaming, aloft, pointing at the dragon’s head rising up from the center of the water.
He heard the other woman, Aleesa, cry out, heard Alaric shout, but he paid neither of them any mind as he covered Bridget’s body with his own, taking her down to the wet rocks with him.
Bridget’s sword dropped, hissing into the water behind them. She cried out as he covered her, mindful of his weight, not to crush her, just to keep her safe from harm. She stared up at him in wonder, their eyes locked, and for a moment he saw himself, the red heat of his own eyes reflected in the silver pools of hers.
“Griff,” she whispered, and he felt the way his cock hardened at the sound of his name in her mouth. His erection strained against the soft, silky material of her robe, and beyond that, against her incredible softness. He had never wanted a woman more than he wanted her in that moment, and if Alaric hadn’t called his name, too, he might have rolled her over and taken her without thinking—right then, right there.
“Are y’all right, lass?” Griff asked, his voice hoarse with emotion.
“I did’na need rescuing!” Bridget struggled under him, movements that didn’t make him any less hard for her. In fact, quite the opposite. She pushed against his chest with both hands—the woman had a surprising amount of strength for a human girl, even without armor and a sword. “Ye’re such an impetuous fool! The dragon’n’t’lady could’ve told ye what ye wanted t’know.”
“What?” Griff puzzled at her words. “What lady?”
“Did ye n’see ’er?” She wiggled out from under him and he saw that her robe was in disarray, parting slightly in the front, giving him a view of her pale, creamy thigh. Griff saw her noticing him looking at the gap in her
Similar Books
