sobbed as my heart broke all over again. As one cry finished, another began and everything faded away, leaving me drowning in grief. It was relentless-I couldn’t escape it, forced to ride it out.

Slow, soothing strokes against my back were my lifeline, Mason’s steady presence a reminder I wasn’t alone, and I clutched onto him as my anchor. Gradually, my chest stopped tightening and my cries turned into muffled hiccups as I buried my face into him.

“Are you okay?” Mason asked softly, his hand leaving my back to run his fingers through my hair. His voice sounded thick with emotion, and a quick glance at his face confirmed my suspicions. I hadn’t wept alone.

He’d also lost his sister, and I felt selfish for losing sight of it. He’d gone through the night alone, wanting to let me rest, choosing to see to my needs before his own. Love surged through me over this man, and I offered up a vow right then and there, I’d stand by him forever.

Pulling back slightly, I reached up and tenderly brushed away his tears with the pad of my thumb. Mason returned the favor, his focus never leaving my face. I’m not sure how I missed it before. Yes, there was a look of weariness and deep sadness, but there was also love blazing in his eyes. This was a man who adored me, who would wage war with the Devil himself, and he was all mine. My wolf howled in agreement.

You better believe I’m all yours. It’s you and me forever, Darcy. No matter what.

He spoke again into my mind, and I tentatively reached out to answer him. I love you, Mason. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help let go of a sigh at being able to connect with him mentally. It troubled me that it hadn’t worked earlier and before I could ask why, he interrupted me.

“There’s plenty of time to talk, babe. We’ll work on it. Right now, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You scared me last night and I hate feeling that way. I’m struggling with the death of Jasmine, but to think I almost lost you too… I don’t think I would survive that.”

“Even a big bad wolf like you?” I offered a weak smile as I stroked his cheek, touched at the emotion he was showing me.

“Yes, even a big bad wolf like me. You’re everything to me, Darcy. So I don’t ever want to hear you think about leaving. Whatever happens, we face it together.” There was a fierceness in his face now as he spoke, a determination that told me what he just shared was as good as law. Without thought, I leaned forward and brought my lips against his, moving them for a gentle, tender kiss.

“Thank you,” I whispered, retreating slowly. A flash of hunger fired in his eyes before he pulled back, a look of concern returning to its place. Without warning, Mason lifted me into his arms, and with his back against the headboard, nestled me on his lap. I couldn’t help but squeak at the sudden movement and blushed at how very un-wolf-like it was.

His slight chuckle resonated through my back as I got comfortable. Trust him to have heard it. Nothing escaped his notice when it came to me, and he brought his arms around my body, folding me into his own.

“Want to talk about it?” The question hung in the air and I didn’t know how to answer. Everything inside me screamed to keep silent, to bury it deep, but the look of concern on his face told me he needed this just as much as I did.

I nodded and searched for a place to start. I wasn’t looking forward to reliving it, but hopefully once it was out in the open between us we could heal together. Without any more thought, I opened my mouth and the words poured out. They came slowly at first, and then rapidly. The purging felt good.

Mason sat quietly, focused on letting me set the pace, but there was no denying the inner turmoil he was going through. As he listened about the threat to me and his sister, and the struggle she went through, electricity churned in the air. His wolf was right at the surface, chomping and snarling, wanting to be released. It showed the amazing strength and control he had, because a lesser wolf would’ve changed under the incredible pressure.

Even with his fury tightly reined, Mason emitted low growls. When I retold the moment where Jasmine was shot, he leaned his head back and let out the most haunted, terrifying cry I’d ever heard. It was full of grief, maddening in its intensity. His arms became like iron rods around me and I knew all his protective instincts had kicked in. Had I not already taken care of Gary, Mason would’ve left right at that moment, and not stopped until he destroyed the monster who dared to steal from him.

I turned my body to sit across his lap so I could reach up to his face. With my fingers, I traced the outline of his cheek. Tenderly, I brought his gaze to mine and it was just as I suspected-his eyes were wolf-like, more evidence of his battle to keep his beast caged. I pulled him closer and kissed his eyelids, resting my forehead against his when I was finished.

We sat quietly, lost in the moment, clinging to one another. When I felt the change in the air and Mason relax, I looked back and related the rest of the tale. I told how my wolf had taken charge, hunting the threat down like prey and relishing in the kill. I shared everything, hoping this would bring him a sense of justice. From the look of feral triumph he gave me, I hoped it would be enough.

I stared at him for the longest time, trying to judge what he’d do. I knew he was in turmoil, I could see it in his body language and in the way he tightly held me. I caught my breath-waiting. He answered me moments later. One minute I was sitting in his lap, and next I was airborne.

Mason’s strength always amazed me. Flipping me over so I was lying on my back, he hovered above me. I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing, but a soft growl and focused look stopped me in my tracks.

Without another word spoken, he set about inspecting every part of my body. He was methodical in his approach, lifting and studying, looking for anything that showed signs of abuse. Every inch met his gaze, and he released small grunts of satisfaction before moving on to the next. I lay there and let him, knowing he wouldn’t simply take my word for it, he needed to see for himself.

Once he was finished, he started again, but this time his touches were different. Gone was the restlessness. Mason was now moving about like a man wanting to memorize and reclaim what was his. You are mine, he repeated and he lowered his face to smell my skin. Licking me in slow circles, he feathered me with soft kisses. I was helpless to fight the pull of passion stirring between us.

There was something erotic about the way he moved over me, his heated build pressed hard against mine. I couldn’t help the way my body reacted as I arched into his touch and sighed with deep contentment. When Mason found a certain sensitive spot, one he loved to tease me with, I decided I’d had enough and reached for him.

One moment my hands were touching him and the next they were pinned to the bed while he looked down at me wickedly. “Patience, Darcy. I’m not finished. There’s one more place I haven’t savored.”

I held my breath, desire coursing through me and almost lost my mind as he nestled into my neck, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh. It was definitely a weakness of mine, the feel of his teeth and lips, the brushing of heated breath. I squirmed against him, trying to break from his restraining grip. All it did was add fuel to the fire already building between us.

“Mason, you’re killing me here. Please.” I wasn’t beneath begging for him to kiss me.

He chuckled, a deep, throaty laugh that weakened me further. “You scared me. I told you not to go out alone and I was right. All your sass,” he said, biting at my neck, the slight sting causing a moan to escape from my mouth. “Your assurances everything would be okay.” He swirled his tongue slowly, bringing goose bumps to my flesh. “I want you to say it-I was right and you were wrong.” Having finished in that spot, he moved on to the next. “Admit it.”

I shook my head, but not out of stubbornness. Heck, I was ready to declare to the world I was wrong, but I knew Mason. He had some wicked plan brewing that involved delicious punishment and I was definitely not going to rob him of his moment.

He tightened his grip on my wrists, and prodded my ear with his nose. “Say it, Darcy, or I’ll make you scream it.”

I realized while I was focused on the seductive magic he was creating with his mouth, I hadn’t noticed he removed one of his hands, holding me with just one while his free hand roamed over my body. The sudden awareness of it sent wave after wave of heat through me, as his touch left a blazing trail, scorching my insides.

I looked into his eyes, determined to give him a look which said, “Bring it,” but instead I melted under the fierce intensity staring back at me. He was serious. He’d make me scream and no doubt from incredible pleasure.

I felt my lips curl as I cooed suggestively back at him, “What are you waiting for?”

Вы читаете The Mystic Wolves
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