MacRieve

FORTY-ONE

“Is it like this for other people?” Chloe asked. She and MacRieve were lying on the bank together, reclined on their sides, naked in the late afternoon sun. His smooth, damp skin was flushed from exertion, his muscles still bulging. His eyes were heavy-lidded and warm gold, his beast at rest.

MacRieve gave a short laugh. “I know I’ve never felt anything like it.”

With a grin, she said, “Did your ballocks beg for mercy?”

“They still are.”

She laughed. “I used to wonder why everyone was always thinking about sex. I couldn’t understand it. Now I do.”

And more, she’d been reminded today of how good it could be between them, her hope-spark flaring unchecked. To think she might’ve missed this if she hadn’t given him a second chance!

“Hey, aren’t you supposed to mark my neck?”

“In time.” Had his gaze darted?

“If we’re going to keep doing this, I need to get on birth control. Munro said he didn’t know what my cycles would be like.”

“You’ve no need to worry about that.”

“How can you be sure? MacRieve, what if I did get pregnant? What would you do?”

There. A flash of anguish before he disguised it.

Her heart fell. She’d wondered how he’d feel about having children with her. Now she knew. She could even understand it, considering his past. That didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt.

She got up to dress. “Message received.” Then she sucked in a breath. “Would something be wrong with them? Would they be monstrous?”

He sat up with a weary exhalation. “Monstrous? Nay. But they could be incubi or succubae.”

She stilled. “You just so much as said, ‘They wouldn’t be monstrous, however, they could be like you.’ ”

“That’s no’ what I said.” He ran his fingers through his wet hair. “You are the one who wanted to take this slow. The idea of children is a lot to wrap my head around.”

She yanked on the wet shorts, searching for her bra. “What if it’s already happened? It might have!”

“Rest easy, Chloe. The talisman you wear has been imbued twice. Once to keep you hidden, and again to keep you from getting pregnant.”

“What?” She turned on him, draping her arm over her breasts. “You put me on birth control without even discussing it with me?”

“Your eyes are glowing with anger? Do you want me to impregnate you?”

“No, but I hate that you made a decision like that for me! That shit might’ve flown in the eleventh century, but not today.”

He rose as well, dressing with obvious irritation. “We were no’ exactly speaking much when I was ordering the talisman.”

“That was only two days ago. Yet you’re acting like everything’s been settled with us.”

“It has! We intended to start anew, remember? I’ve accepted that you need to feed from me. I’ll claim you once more, and then you’ll be mine forever.”

“I haven’t promised you anything, and you’re illuminating why that was a smart move on my part. Do you try to hurt me? Or is it just a talent? Because let me tell you, you’ve hit me with some sharp zingers over the last week. Hey, at least you didn’t puke today. Progress!”

Between gritted teeth, he said, “This is getting blown out of proportion.”

“Do you expect me to wear this bracelet for eternity? What happens when I eventually want kids? Hell, you’d probably just cut off their heads, right?”

“Doona be ridiculous,” he said with a scowl. “If we had children, we’d have to remain away from my clan, for fear our offspring would prey on others.”

“Maybe they’d be dormant like I was. We could find out if you ever let me talk to my kind!”

“Never!”

She saw him digging his claws into his palms, but was too furious to care. “Never? Because all of them—down to the last male, female, and child—are evil?” She started off in the direction of her bra. “I’m sure you’ve met them all!”

He followed. “You’re making more of this than you should!”

“I am? So it’s my fault that I’m mad—because I am overreacting.” Again, she was one decibel away from screeching.

His eyes widened. “I doona want to assign fault. That’s no’ what I meant.”

She found her bra, yanking it on. “I thought we had a shot, thought I could make you see I’m not like the succubae you’ve encountered before. That’s not even possible, is it?”

She was no victim, but that’s what she was acting like—a pushover, rewarding his hostility with softness.

That was a losing strategy in soccer—and in life.

He was beginning to look alarmed. “If you want offspring, even after I’ve expressed concerns, I’ll give them to you!”

“You’re missing the point. Until you can get right with what I am, until you can imagine having kids with me, there is no hope for us! The thought of having a little girl like me should make you happy, not fill you with disgust. Whatever this is”—she waved from him to herself and back—“it’s doomed.”

“Doona bluidy say that!”

“You’re blinded by hatred, and I won’t tolerate being treated like shit anymore; ergo, doomed! My God, MacRieve. Even I’ll admit defeat when I’m down twenty points with two minutes left on the clock. Anything else is just delusional.”

As Will watched her striding away, he chuffed with displeasure.

His mate was walking away from him—directly after telling him she thought they were doomed. This would set any Lykae’s teeth on edge.

His beast howled inside, hankering to lope after her.

In an attempt to give her space, Will trailed after her at a distance, keeping her in sight. Damnation, he was out of sorts, already wanting her by his side. Not surprising, considering that he’d just experienced some kind of strew-induced, transcendent sexual frenzy with her.

When sheep got in his way as he crossed a field, he gave a halfhearted growl, sending them scampering.

Yesterday when he’d felt her succubus pull, he’d been sickened. Today? He’d lost the ability to stand, collapsing over her back. When he’d finally opened his eyes, he’d leaned down to kiss the corner of her lips—because they’d been curling with a satisfied smile.

Satisfied! Gods, she pleased him.

Sex with her hadn’t just blown his mind, it’d tweaked his gray matter forever. What he’d known about bliss was now changed, the upper threshold ratcheted up to record heights.

Over this day, he’d had three realizations.

First, to possess Chloe as his own, he would let her feed from his body for eternity, allowing her to compel him with strew for just as long. He might not be happy about it, but he wanted her so badly, he would do anything to keep her. Every man had his own secret sorrows. So would he.

Second, he didn’t know when—or if—he could claim her with his bite. Withholding it made him feel more in control. Keeping something back allowed him to rationalize all he was ceding.

And last: Though he didn’t dread taking on her venom as much as in the past—it would tie her to him—he didn’t relish the idea. Regretfully, but valiantly.

All his life he’d had a phobia about three times. Now it seemed his mate did as well.

No matter. It would happen with their very next time.

When Chloe entered the keep, she slammed the door behind her. All right, mayhap he should’ve told her everything the talisman did when she’d first donned it. Yet at the time he hadn’t felt consideration for her. And aye, that was only two days ago, but something had been shifting inside him. He was adjusting to her species, making concessions.

Because today, he’d begun to believe they had a future.

Right when she’d become convinced they would end? He needed to make some kind of gesture. Something to convince her he would try.

Will remembered when he’d been eight, he’d broken his mam’s favorite vase. Filled with guilt, he’d charged out to pick her flowers, the only thing he could give her. With her gaze twinkling, Mam had ruffled his hair. “Ach, Will, now it does no’ matter that I’ve nothing to put them in. . . .”

So what to give Chloe? His eyes widened. The attic of this place was full of treasures.