His lips brushed against mine. The touch comforting, I lost myself, letting him lead in the sweetest kiss. He poured his soul into that embrace and, helpless, I let him.
I lost track of how long we stayed fused together. Enjoying the comfort of each other. When his hold eased, I opened my eyes and looked into his smoky gray eyes. I saw his love for me, the desire pooling in waves.
I ran my hand across his face, moving his dirty blond hair from his eyes. He was a couple weeks late for a trim. “Don't ever do that to me again.”
I placed my hand against his chest. He grabbed it, linking our fingers. But when he brought my knuckles to his mouth, he stopped. Twisting my hand to view the imprint, he cursed.
“Aylin, what the fuck?”
Shit!
He dropped my hand and scooted backwards. Too weak to attempt standing.
I reached for him, but he backed away as if I were cursed. My heart shattered. Rejected first by the imprint and now by my mate. I doubted I could take much more.
I stood and waited for him to do the same. He struggled to his feet. I didn't attempt to help and risk another rejection.
“A simple thanks would suffice.” I turned to walk away.
He grabbed my shoulder and spun me back. The force surprised me. His strength must be returning. “Oh, no you don't.”
“Connor, let it be.”
“The fuck, I will. Aylin, you're imprinted.” He spat the word like poison from his mouth.
“No shit, Sherlock.” I glared.
“Who's the bastard?” he growled.
Who? How dare he question me like I didn't have a right to love. Like I couldn't have what Bryn and Liam had. Like I was nothing more than dirt on his cowboy boots.
“You're the bastard.”
Oooppsss. I didn't mean to let that slip.
Chapter Four
Connor
I stood there. Numb. Mouth open, unable to speak. One moment in time changed everything.
The effect of the sword caused the wound to heal slowly. Aylin's power helped, but a normal injury wouldn't take this long to heal. I was a little worried about the black tar that poisoned the sword and possibly me.
Aylin didn't seem to notice my state during her spurt of anger.
She stomped off and kicked her tires, cursing me, men in general, and fate. Three vital things circled in my mind from the past few minutes.
I need you.
That's what Aylin shouted when she thought I was dying. Those words were a symphony that rang in my ears and floated to my body. The beat rising higher, closer, softer, until it seeped into my heart, the rhythm syncing as one.
Imprint.
Prior to tonight, I never had this primal need to claim her. To mark her as my own. Yet tonight, I had seen red thinking of another man touching her. She was mine. When she stood over me, glowing from the magic that enveloped her, I swear her whole being called to me. Her soul wrapped around my own. Claiming me on an eternal level. Now, I just needed to claim her on a physical one.
You're the bastard.
I smiled. Yes, I am. Aylin was strong, capable of downing a man twice her size, but those words alone almost took me to my knees. I turned my wrist, looking for any indication that I shared her bond, and frowned. Nope, nothing. Not even a slight glow.
Another vehicle swerved into the parking lot, engulfing us in light.
Aylin cursed again.
I leaned against my Hummer, holding my side, trying not to laugh. Oh, that mouth.
Liam opened the door to his SUV and walked around to help Bryn from the vehicle.
They approached us, hand in hand. I tried not to be jealous at their easy companionship. They fit together perfectly.
“Is everything okay?” Bryn asked, heading straight to Aylin.
“Okay? No, it's not.” Aylin circled around her truck, almost like she was looking for something else to kick after torturing her high-end mud tires.
But Bryn pulled her into an embrace, which seemed to have calmed her some. I lost track of their conversation.
Liam approached, his confident swagger screaming Alpha, and I lowered my head slightly. I was a big guy, but Liam was bigger and bulkier. Where I was lean and fit, he was all muscle.
“What's going on, Connor?” Liam cut to the chase while eyeing my bloodied outfit and torn shirt.
I looked at the scar from the fire blade and cursed.
“Well, which time?” I asked, hating the fact that I had been beaten twice tonight and saved by a hot chick. I ran a dirty hand through my tousled blond hair and sighed. God, I was exhausted, mentally and physically, but didn't want to explain without a drink in my hand.
“My friend, it looks like you need a drink.” Liam must have read my mind because he smiled and slapped me on the back. He pulled a key from his pocket. “C'mon, let's go inside for a cold one.”
“Oh, a drink!” An older woman with gray, frizzed hair approached the door. A translucent light highlighted her abundant frame. She clapped animatedly, sending an array of multi-color bracelets into a jangling fit.
Liam stiffened. I stopped. Nadia! What was her Highness doing here? A member of the Table of Seven, joining us for a drink right after the reappearance of Gabriel, what were the odds?
Nadia's towering hair wobbled as she approached the door. “Open sesame,” she chimed. The door obeyed. “Ha! I still have it, boys.”
Liam's low growl confirmed that he wasn't happy with her visit. He shoved the unused key back into his pocket.
Nadia had deceived Bryn for years, working as an Augur to guide Bryn to her destiny. Nadia had succeeded, but put Bryn in terrible danger in the process. Liam didn't forgive easily.
“Nadia!” Bryn rushed to Nadia, who stumbled with the impact of her embrace. She was obviously more forgiving.
“Child,” Nadia whispered, wiping a tear from her eye.
I shifted
