Bound by Blood and Fang

Chapter 20

Alora

The room still feels far too warm. Too suffocating. Though that might be because of the werewolf beside me. His very presence seems to make the walls of the room close in around me.

Or maybe that is just my mind finally clearing from the heat's haze.

I lie there in the bed — his bed — his scent of pine and smoke filling every inch of space as I stare up at the thick beams that cross the ceiling.

What is wrong with me?

Why is it so hard to control my body's reaction… to either of them?

One minute, I want to punch them in the face, while the other, I want to feel their bodies wrapped around mine. Inside mine.

My pulse is still hammering inside my chest, refusing to settle into anything that resembles a normal rhythm. Every inch of my being feels overstimulated and hypersensitive, as if it hasn't quite realized the storm has passed.

Or maybe it hasn't, and that's the issue.

Bane sleeps beside me, really sleeps.

On his stomach, face pressed into the pillow, one thick arm thrown possessively across my waist as if he has claimed me even in his dreams. The sheet is tangled low around his hips, revealing the hard lines of his back — broad chest rising and falling in slow, even breaths. Faint scars cross his skin, pale against bronze, silent reminders that the king beside me is not simply a man.

He is a weapon.

Even at rest.

His jaw is slackened slightly in sleep, but there’s no softness to him. His brows are faintly drawn, like some part of him still stands guard. A low rumble vibrates faintly in his chest every few breaths — not quite a snore, more like a wolf’s distant warning.

His fingers flex against my hip again.

Not random.

Instinctive.

Like, even unconscious, he is making sure I’m still there.

The warmth of him is overwhelming. Radiating. The scent of pine and smoke clings to his skin and the furs, and now to me. My traitorous body softens instantly, pulse skipping as heat curls low in my stomach.

Fates help me.

There is something dangerously intimate about seeing him like this. Not snarling. Not possessive. Not towering over me like a force of nature.

Just… breathing.

Alive.

Close enough that if I shifted an inch, my mouth would brush his shoulder. My fingers twitch with the absurd urge to trace the scar that cuts along the side of his ribs.

My hand reaches out on its own, and I snatch it back just in time.

Focus, Alora.

This is exactly the kind of weakness that will get you into trouble.

Like, why in the hell am I still lying here?

Carefully, and I do mean carefully, I lift the thin sheet that covers me, making sure not make any sudden movement that could wake the sleeping wolf. The fact that it takes more effort not to lift the sheet to admire what's actually beneath it surprises me.

“Jeez, why is his arm so heavy?” I whisper to the fates as I try to slip out from under it.

His arm flexes, drawing me back into his grasp, and my heart skips a beat. I close my eyes and force my body to relax. A low rumble slips from his lips. He isn't fully awake yet, but aware enough to make me freeze.

I waited several moments, pleading with the Fates to let sleep pull him back into its grasp. When he settles and his breathing evens out, I try again. Lifting his arm as finally sliding free.

Victory is quiet and all too fragile.

I slip from the bed, wincing slightly as my legs threaten to give out from under me.

It's been hours, and my legs still feel boneless.

I quickly scan this side of the room, looking for anything to cover myself. After Bane and his wolf had thoroughly incapacitated me with their mouth, he stripped me completely of the silk dress that I had worn to dinner.

My eyes landed on a soft white shirt that was thrown over the back of a chair in the corner of the room. I pad across the room, desperately trying to remain silent. Snatching it from its resting spot, I pull it over my head. It swallows me whole, the light fabric opening indecently low at my breast and just barely covering my ass.

And it smells entirely too much like him.

Looking back over my shoulder, my stomach does a little flip.

The bond tugs at my wrist before threading its way into my chest. It wants me to abandon my plan and just curl back into the soft bed with him. To snuggle beneath the furs and into his warmth.

I groan softly as I tug at the laces at the throat of his shirt in a vain attempt to make it a little more modest.

Crossing the room, I make sure to thank the fates for not letting me stub my toe in an unfamiliar room. That surely would have woken him. With my hand on the handle, I take a deep, steadying breath.

The door opens easily without a sound, and I step out into the dimly lit hallway.

My body reacts to an unseen presence the moment that the door clicks shut behind me. I turn around, and my entire world screeches to a halt.

Because standing there in the shadows on the other side of the hall is Dimitri.

My heartbeat pounds in my chest. He is leaning against the opposite wall like he has been there for a while. He has removed his waistcoat and the shiny adornments that went with it and now wears his black cotton shirt, untucked and looking very… disheveled.

His hair is still loose like it was for dinner, but it has a mussed look about it now. Like he has been running his fingers through it repeatedly or tugging at it in frustration.

His arms are crossed over his chest, but there is a slight tension in his frame that feels almost threatening. His bronze gaze drags slowly down my body, taking in my own state of disarray. Bare legs. Rumpled hair from the pillow and Bane’s shirt that hangs rather unflatteringly on my body.

“This is not how I thought the night would end,” he says as something flickers across his expression.

He doesn't move, but I sure do.

Before I realize it, I am standing before him, panic clawing at my ribs.

Fates not again.

This is the last thing that I need right now.

“What are you doing out here?” I whisper, looking over my shoulder to make sure that the door is still closed.

When I turn around, Dimitri's mouth curves upward in amusement, but the light never reaches his eyes.

“Funny thing,” he says smoothly, his voice coming out a little too tight around the edges. “It’s kind of hard to stay away…”

His eyes pin me where I am as he lifts his hand and brushes the back of his knuckles against my cheek.

My eyes close, and an involuntary moan breaks free from me at his touch. It is soft and sends a swarm of butterflies to my stomach.

“…when I can hear my bonded moaning through the walls.”

My eyes shoot open as embarrassment floods my face instantly.

His jaw ticks once, like he is barely holding on to the reins of something far darker.

I want to deny it, but at this point it seems stupid to do so. He just caught me sneaking out of Bane's room, in Bane's clothing, and if he has the same sense of smell that the wolves do, then he can probably smell what happened to me.

“I–”

I what? What is there to say?

That I didn't just allow a werewolf to devour my very soul? That I didn't scream in ecstasy from every flick of his tongue?

The Fates would have a field day with those lies.

Dimitri pushes off the wall and crowds my space. I go to take a step back, but his hands are on my hips in a flash, preventing me from backing away.

“And the bond?” he adds quietly, his voice dropping lower — rougher and strained. “That was even louder.”

My breath catches in my throat when his hands tighten around my hips. I stayed silent because there was nothing I could say. Hell, I don't even know how to rationalize what I allowed Bane and his wolf to do to me myself.

A look of pure jealousy settles on his face, and it sends an unwelcome tingle through my body. His nostrils flare at the same moment as I have to clench my thighs together.

“I really should get back to my…”

The bond snaps tight in my chest, a split-second warning before the sound of wood slamming open startles me and causes me to jump. And thus, in the process, plastering myself against the vampire. His hands wrap around my waist, securing me to his front. The hem of Bane's shirt riding up far enough for me to feel the sharp kiss of cold air against my cheeks.

A deep guttural snarl comes from Bane’s room, and I turn my head just enough to look behind me as the werewolf King stalks towards us.

Completely.

Utterly.

Gloriously naked.

His eyes are locked on me, sharp, heated and swirling with the unmistakable black of his wolf, Vorian. He looks downright dangerous when his gaze slides behind me towards Dimitri.

Bane's lips pull back, and I don't miss the way his teeth elongate into fangs.

“Mine,” he snarls loud enough to cause the foundation to tremble.

Dimitri’s grip on me tightens, and I wince a little. “Ours,” he counters.

Another snarl shakes the house as Bane stalks across the hall and grips my wrist, tugging me free from Dimitri's hold. The vampire king doesn't fight to keep me in his arms, and for a moment, there is a brief stab of pain in my chest.

I don't have the time to examine it further when, in one sudden, fluid motion, Bane leans forward, putting his shoulder into my stomach and rising. With me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Bane—” I yelp as my world shifts at my new position. “Put me down.”

He only grunts in response, already turning back toward his room. A possessive fury rolling off him in dense waves.

Just as the wolf is about to close the door, locking me once again in here with him, Dimitri’s calm, cool tone stops him. I flip my hair out of my face so that I can get a better view.

“Enjoy tonight,” he paused, his eyes turning bright red. “Because tomorrow…” his gaze slid from Bane to me, and something dark and promising settled into place behind his eyes.

His voice drops so low that a physical chill crawls across my skin.

“…she’s mine.”