I yanked free of the Wolf, spun about, and grabbed him by the front of his shirt. As his eyes widened infinitesimally in surprise, I pushed him down on a nearby hill and straddled his lap. He was straining at me through his pants, and I rubbed myself against him, as he had done to me.
“I accepted you with him.” I lowered my face to his. “Or have you forgotten the Binding?”
“I haven't forgotten,” his voice dropped to a purr. “But you made him weak even then. He came in his pants like a boy, instead of taking you as a man. As a wolf!”
The Wolf rolled so that he was on top. He held me pressed to the hill with his body but didn't move to restrain me in any other way. His eyes roamed my face and then moved downward.
“Little girl, you have no idea who you've been spreading your legs for; who really holds you and fills you and makes you scream,” he said in the most sensual, deep, and somehow melodious voice. “You think you have me tamed, but I've merely been waiting; watching for your weakness. Waiting for you to stumble. To break away from the herd. I'm the most patient of hunters, and you”—he bent his head and nipped my pulse—“have finally fallen to my teeth.”
“I fell a long time ago,” I said as I laid my hand to his head and pulled him harder against me. “You want to bite me? Taste my blood? Do it, Wolf. I've bled for you before. If that's what you need, I'll bleed again.”
I angled my head to the side and bared my neck to him. Submission doesn't sit well with me, but I'd been learning lately that it had its own kind of power. This was about giving, not taking, and I would say how much of me he could have.
The Wolf went still above me, and I turned back to face him.
“My throat is bared; I'm offering it to you,” I said softly. “Why do you hesitate?”
“I don't want you like that,” he growled. “When I slide my teeth into your throat, I'll also be sliding my cock into your sex.”
“What's the difference?” I asked softly.
“The difference is between mate and meat.” He pushed away from me. Loomed over me. “I draw your blood to prove its mine; I don't drink it to sustain me.”
“Why did you come here; to Moonshine?” I asked him. “Is this where you feel strongest?”
“It's mine,” the Wolf said simply as he stood. “As you are. Or you will be.”
“What do you mean?” I asked angrily. “I've already told you that I'm yours. Here I am. What more do you want?”
“You're not mine!” The Wolf snarled; his body tight with fury. “Your theirs. The lion, the gods, the faerie. You can never truly be mine while you give yourself to others.”
“I see,” I whispered as I stood. “And you want me to deny them all before you release Trevor?”
The Wolf laughed cruelly. “You think that I'm suppressing him? He gave me control. He wants me to do what he could not; take back our mate.”
The Wolf grabbed me so suddenly that I wasn't prepared for it. He tore my rings from my fingers—both my wedding ring and my Ring of Remembrance—and dropped them on the grass. Then he tossed me over his shoulder, sped down to the basement, and traced us away.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“You didn't have to do that,” I said calmly. “I would have gone with you willingly.”
“Would you have left your rings behind?” His voice tickled my ear, his body pressed tight to mine, and his arms were like a vise around me. “Would you have come with me behind my father's wards and agreed to cut yourself off from all of them?”
I shivered. “What do you mean; your father's wards? Fenrir is helping you?”
“Of course, he's helping me. He even opened a tracing port here for us.” The Wolf laughed. “He's the source of my magic; he understands that I need my mate.”
“You have me,” I hissed with frustration.
“No; I don't.” He released me suddenly and stepped back.
We were in a cabin, but it was luxurious. The Wolf had carried me out of a tracing chamber like a caveman and set me on my feet in the main room; an open space that surged up two stories. A picture window took up the wall on our left. It was so large that it had to be divided into three separate panes; the largest square at the bottom with two triangular ones on top to form a peak. The view from that window was magnificent; a mirrored lake with a backdrop of sharp-edged mountains behind it. There were a million stars reflected on that glassy surface and a full moon among them.
Before us, there was a cold fireplace made from slabs of slate and crowned with a polished, wood mantle. A pile of wood waited there to be lit. Around the hearth gathered heavy, wooden furniture with overstuffed cushions, set over thick Persian rugs. A kitchen full of modern appliances was to the left of that—across from the window—with polished wood cabinets, baskets and dried herbs hanging from the ceiling, and a butcher block island. It had large windows that somehow managed to have a partial view of the lake.
To the left of the kitchen, a flight of stairs led to a loft. There was a sitting area in that open space that had an even more amazing view through the main windows. Hallways branched off from the loft with bedrooms and bathrooms to either side, and a display cabinet of priceless knickknacks sat against the wall between them.
I knew all of this without looking because I'd been here before. This was
