Chapter 11

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Heat flared through my veins, the sweet warmth drugging. The scent of burning amber and cedar smoke wrapped around me. I swam upwards through the Sleep, curious. Something twinged at the back of my mind, a reminder of something Fenrir had made me promise.

Soft pressure against my lips. The odd blend of the taste of wintergreen and cinnamon and orange. Warm breath and a delicately inquisitive tongue.

Woken by true love's kiss.

My eyes snapped open and I looked straight into sea blue eyes.

Not Fenrir.

The man kissing me pressed forward and took advantage of my surprise to slip his tongue into my mouth, his eyes half-lidding with unmistakable arousal and pleasure.

Desire coiled within me and I couldn't resist closing my eyes and feeling. The silken steel of his muscles under my hands. Wintergreen and burning amber. The taste of orange lingered on my tongue, but I guessed it was something Fenrir had slipped into my mouth.

He broke away, breath ragged, a strange light in his eyes.

"Mate," he breathed. Then he shook his head, much like a dog shaking off water, and pushed me gently away.

Straight into the arms of another man.

I looked up, barely registering dark eyes, impossibly long lashes, and a sinful mouth before said mouth closed over mine.

My eyes widened and I put my hands on his chest, intending on pushing him away.

Strong fingers closed around my wrists from behind and pinned them to my stomach, his other hand covering my eyes. "No. Let go and just feel."

Not the voice of the male who had kissed me awake.

I blinked and stilled. What was going on? Had I somehow woken into an orgy? The last I remembered, I'd said yes to Fenrir's request, far-fetched as it was. But now...

"Shhh, just give us a chance."


A huff of breath over my lips brought my attention back to the male who was kissing me. He brushed my lips with his with seeming endless patience. Over and over and over again until I could feel my heartbeat throb against my super-sensitized skin. His scent coiled inside me with every breath I took, until it seemed as if I was cocooned in a nest of cedar shavings and juniper berries. Unable to bear it any longer, I opened my mouth to take a breath and his tongue slipped in. His touch was delicate, the merest stroke of the tip of his tongue against mine, and then he withdrew again.

Cinnamon. He was the one who'd left the taste of cinnamon in my mouth.

Desire flared, the coil tightening further.

My eyes shut, almost against my will. The hand over my eyes dropped away the moment my eyes closed and the restraint around my wrists loosened. His hands around me dropped to my waist, long fingers holding me captive.

The thought of pushing them away skated past.

I lifted my hands. Sighed. And wound them around the neck of the man kissing me, my fingers threading through the silken waves at his nape.

He sighed against my mouth in turn, and deepened his kiss. Tempter no longer, his touch conquered and claimed.

Heat arced between us and I swayed towards him, but the hands on my waist drew me back.

The man kissing me broke away, breathing unevenly. He nuzzled his nose against mine. "Mate," he said, his tone certain.

The man behind me spun me around before I could react. I looked up into moss-green eyes. Heat was there, but also wary skepticism.

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