Wicked Deeds on a Winter's Night

29

Mari heard the crack of bone just before Cade flew across the rocks, landing in the brush.

She thought that his collarbone had snapped, but he still scrambled to his feet to face MacRieve.

As Cade snarled, his eyes and horns turned black. MacRieve's fangs and claws lengthened, but neither had fully turned to his beastly or demonic form—they both seemed just on the edge.

When Mari unsteadily stood, Tierney said from behind her, "Don't even think about getting in between them." Was he eating at a time like this?

Without looking away from the two, she said, "But they'll kill each other!"

"A single stray punch from one of them, and you're dead."

As Mari watched them fighting, she truly began to believe that. The two circled, scanning the other for weaknesses, striking out at intervals with fists like anvils. She caught herself flinching every time they smashed each other's face.

Like a shot, they both charged, their heavy, pounding steps punching through the brittle limestone ground. In a tangle of fists and claws, they crashed into the jungle, razing hardwoods with the impact.

MacRieve made another furious charge, barreling into the demon, sending them back toward the falls. They slammed into a rock face, pulverizing the outer layer to dust, then surged over the edge of one terrace, plummeting into the water of the next pool down.

Cade seemed to have the advantage, landing over MacRieve, but it was short-lived.

Shoving Cade back, MacRieve lunged for his throat with one hand; with his other, he slashed out with flared claws, ripping across Cade's torso. Blood poured from both, dissipating into the clear water.

MacRieve fought with such seething ferocity, just as he had the night at the assembly—when she could have admired him for hours...

Without warning, Rydstrom lunged into the middle, throwing fists and elbows. Once he'd finally separated them, all three were out of breath and bleeding.

MacRieve turned his head, spit blood, then grated, "The witch is mine." Before she could react, he'd bounded up the rocks to where she stood. He snatched her tight to his side, laying his massive hand on her nape. His lips were drawn back from his fangs.

Cade gnashed his teeth in turn.

"Come near what's mine again, and I will destroy you." At that he simply swung her over his shoulder and started across the pools to the other side of the jungle.

She pounded her fists on his back and kicked to be freed. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Aye, thrash about. If anyone's foolish enough to follow me, the sight of that'd be sure to stop them in their tracks."

Reminded that her barely clad ass was jutting up for all to see, she stopped her struggles. "Where are you taking me?" she demanded.

"Somewhere private." He leapt over an entire branch of the river, making her gasp, then added, "We've matters to settle between us."

Moments later, she squealed when pounding falls cascaded over her back. He shook his hair out without missing a step, so wolfy.

Not another cave!

One minute, she'd been sitting in the sun, chatting with a demon. Now she was being hauled about like a Neanderthal's prize into the dark once more.

But as he continued in, deeper and deeper, there came to be filtered sunlight shining down. How? She craned her head up. He'd taken her to a cenote—one of the sinkholes in the area, with a clear pool at the bottom. She knew from her reading that they were considered sacred to the Maya.

When he dropped her to her feet inside, he snapped, "Understand, you will no' ever go about dressed like this. As a matter of fact, if you doona put your glamour back on directly, then I'll be getting you another sodding cloak!"

Her awe at the beauty of this place was swiftly replaced by ire. "You are crazed."

"Mayhap, but it's plain as day that you're no' like other females, and you canna dress as they do."

"What are you talking about?" she cried.

"Everything about you—from your curves to your red hair to that damned ring at your navel—makes a male lose his judgment. Cade knew what he risked from me, and still he courted my wrath to be close to you."

"One more time. I'm—not—yours. And hitting Cade like that was so... so wrong! You could have killed him."

"Do you want me tae?"

She started away. "I'm going to check on him—"

"Then you do want me tae!" He seized her elbow and spun her around, a wild look in his eyes. His shirt was ripped almost free, displaying his sheening chest, still heaving from the battle. "This is a vulnerable time. I have no' claimed you, and the full moon nears. Yet you receive the attentions of another male? Witch, you play with fire!" He swiped the back of his hand over his bleeding temple. "Forget the demon. He knows you're no' his. If he'd truly believed you were, he would have put up more of a fight. He dinna even hit a rage state."

"You didn't change to your werewolf form for me!"

"I dinna want you to see it!" he roared, grasping her upper arms. "Doona ever doubt my desire for you—if I truly was in a contest for the right to have you, I'd have bitten his goddamned throat free, then laid it at your feet in offer!"

Her lips parted. She thought she'd just caught a glimpse of the inner workings of how a Lykae male thought.

And she... liked it.

He was breathing hard, with that muscled chest heaving. His eyes were still that lightest blue color, and were locked on her as if she was his most coveted possession—and one he'd feared losing.

MacRieve was fresh from the fight. Yes, at the assembly she'd realized she could watch him for hours, but now, she admitted that night had been when she'd first recognized how much she desired this Lykae.

That night she hadn't been able to kiss him as she'd desired, or stroke his powerful body.

Yet now...

Ferocity, the intensity. She'd craved it, always had—even before this uncontrollable, immortal need had begun to consume her. Want it... want him.

Her expression must have betrayed her hunger. His brows drew together, and he grated, "Mariketa?"

Her hand shot up and cupped the back of his neck, tugging him down so she could kiss him.

Obviously shocked, he stilled for a moment. Then, with a groan, he released his clenching hold on her arms. His hands landed heavily on her ass, kneading as if he'd only been awaiting a chance to feel her like that. Against her mouth, he rasped, "Lusty witch."

"Kiss me really hard, MacRieve, like you mean it."

"Lusty and demanding. Gods, how you please me." He did kiss her then, slanting his lips over hers, slipping his tongue between them to sweep it against her own. Hot... wet... hard. She could do nothing but mindlessly meet him.

His big palms on her ass rocked her up to him, forcing her against his rigid shaft.

She was in heaven...

Yet he broke away. Between breaths, he grated, "I doona share what's mine. No other males. Only me. It'll only be me for you."

She blinked open her eyes, becoming aware that at some point he'd begun holding her upright—her legs had given way under his kiss. Then she frowned. "And what about you?" she asked, trying to keep her wits about her when he began greedily kissing and licking her neck. "Telling me you're the only one for me—when you plan on ditching me for another female at the earliest opportunity?" With every word, her resentment grew.

He drew back and met her eyes. "I canna say for certain that I would now."

"Oh, because you think I'm about to give it up?"

He swallowed, then rasped, "Are you, then?"

She glared. Then her gaze flickered over his gorgeous face and muscle-packed body. She was so hungry for him. But she couldn't get past being passed up, which meant she couldn't enjoy his ferocity, which meant she was now furious. Her desire was thwarted again, blazing out of control, yet it remained fixated on a totally undeserving male.

"Mariketa, I doona know that I could part from you... for even as long as it'd take to go back." As if shocked by the realization, he murmured to himself, "It's true."

Good enough! "Okay, I'll give you props for that." She raised her face to snare another deep taste of him. Between kisses, she breathlessly said, "This is good bullshit—and it's working! Kiss me more!"

But he cupped her face, holding her away. "No' bullshite."

She blinked at him. She was burning for him and he was going to get chatty? "I'm not in a cave with you again for your scintillating conversation. Put up or shut up, Scot."

He raised his brows. "Wicked little witch." His brogue was so thick it gave her shivers. "I'll make you eat those words." He yanked off his ripped shirt and tossed it to the ground. With one hand cupping her between her legs from behind, he lifted her and set her on his shirt on the sand. "Sit that pretty arse down right here, and I'll give you what you're wantin'."