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The Burning Claw

Page 16

   


“Bethany.” Her name being said by that voice sent a shiver of awareness through her.
As soon as she looked at the cage and the area immediately around it and in it, Bethany understood why Jen had stormed off in a huff. Drake had literally broken the concrete and attempted to dig out from under the cage. There were large pieces of concrete thrown about along with smaller bits. And had the bars not run all the way through the ground, he would have succeeded. And, depending on how deep those bars went, he might still succeed if he continued to try.
Her eyes finally met his after she’d thoroughly examined the room. Drake was taking her in like a blind man able to see for the first time. His eyes ran from her feet all the way up her body until they met hers again.
“Are you okay?” he asked her.
Bethany nodded. She was unsure of what to say. She didn’t want to set him off now that he seemed to be calm. He growled. Okay, so apparently he wasn’t as calm as he appeared.
“Come here,” he commanded roughly. When she didn’t move, Drake ran a hand through his hair and took a slow, deep breath. “I would never hurt you. I just…I.” He paused and then met her eyes again. “Touch is very important to wolves—especially between mates. It doesn’t have to be sexual. It can be something as simple as holding hands. It’s reassuring. I need to touch you—to feel that you are indeed okay.”
She could hear the sincerity in his voice and feel the truth through the bond she was beginning to recognize. If she was honest with herself, she’d admit that the bond she felt between them—the connection—made her feel safe. She was never alone. Even when she’d been walking through a strange house filled with werewolves, he was with her. Bethany knew that if she was going to try and make this new life work, then she’d have to take risks. Trusting a complete stranger who claimed to want to be with her forever was definitely a risk, but she had to start somewhere.
She walked over to the cage and took the hand Drake had held out through the bars. As soon as his skin touched hers, she relaxed. The breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding slipped out of her and her heartbeat began to slow.
Drake leaned close to her and took a deep breath. “You smell good.”
She was pretty sure her face was bright red. “I think that’s the shampoo and soap.”
He shook his head. “No, I’m talking about your scent, unique to you and something only I can detect. You smell of honeysuckle and vanilla.”
Bethany found herself leaning in closer to him wanting to see if she could smell his scent as well. She pressed her nose close to his neck and shivered when a low rumble came from his chest. When she breathed in, the scent of pine and earth filled her lungs. It drew her memory back to a time when her family had hiked through the woods, just before she’d been taken. She pushed that memory away and focused on the here and now. “You smell good too,” she confessed a little shyly.
When she pulled back, her breath caught at the smile on his face. He was handsome regardless, but his smile was breathtaking. He lifted his hand and ran the tips of his fingers down her cheek. Bethany fought the urge to close her eyes and purr at the contact. It had been so long since she’d been touched in any way other than by force and violence.
“No one will ever put their hands on you again and cause you pain or harm,” Drake promised, having heard her thoughts.
“I believe you,” she told him honestly.
After several heartbeats, Drake motioned behind her. “I had them bring you a chair.”
Bethany turned and saw the padded chair sitting several feet from the cage. She walked over and grabbed it, dragging it and turning it sideways so that when she sat in it she could lean her shoulder against the bars.
Drake turned and pressed his back to the bars and slid down to the floor. His head was level with her knees. His hand snaked out through the bars and wrapped around her small ankle. The warmth from his flesh soaked into her, and she could feel it clear up to her stomach where it hovered, like her own internal furnace.
“What’s it like?” she asked him once he seemed to be settled.
“You’re going to have to be a little more specific, Bethy,” he said in a teasing tone. The use of her nickname caused her breath to catch. She knew he’d heard it when he squeezed her ankle gently.
“Being a wolf, turning into a wolf. What’s it like?”
“Well, I don’t turn into a wolf. He’s a part of me and I’m part of him. I no more turn into a wolf than he turns into a man. We call it phasing when we change forms. I am fully man and fully wolf when I wear my fur. I can think and reason like a man, but I’m driven by the wolf’s instincts. Likewise, in skin form, he can hunt and protect, but he’s driven by the man’s rationality. But to answer your question, it feels…freeing, like shedding a shirt that was too tight.”
“Would you rather stay in your wolf form rather than your human one?” Bethany had to admit she was fascinated by the passion in his voice.
He turned his head and looked up at her. “Maybe at one time I would have, but not now. If I was in my wolf form all of the time, I wouldn’t be able to hold you.”
She felt her face flush. Bethany was about to ask another question but sucked in a breath and froze when she heard Drake’s low, deadly growl and felt the hand that had been on her ankle leave only to return up to her knee. Drake pushed the fabric where the slit was located on her skirt over her knee revealing her leg from hip to knee. She was pretty sure her heart stopped beating the second she felt his finger begin to trace the marks that now decorated her flesh.
“Mine,” he rumbled in a voice she didn’t quite recognize.
When she finally dared to look down at his face, she saw that his eyes were glowing. “Drake,” she breathed out. He just kept tracing the marks up her thigh, ending on her hip. It as though he was in a trance. She watched as he leaned forward, his eyes flicking up to hers and holding them captive as his lips pressed firmly against her skin right in the middle of her thigh.
When Drake pulled back, he grabbed the fabric and pulled it over her knee and across her leg to cover the markings as much as possible.
He cleared his throat and then spoke, though the growl remained. “Those markings, they are meant for my eyes only. I do not know if I could keep my wolf under control if another male saw them.” He took a deep breath as if bracing himself for something. “Did anyone see you walking back?”