Unbound (Bound To You sequel)

FOUR - Songs of Madness

"Best do as she says, Father," came James eerily calm voice from just inside the door. "Right now."

"She's mine," Trist said, grabbing onto me harder, but turning his head away. "You made her go. You made her sing too loud and now they're going to see."

I glanced around now that Trist was distracted and my eye landed on my hairbrush on the bedside table. Quick as I could and without thinking very much about it, I grabbed it and smacked Trist on the side of the head.

Not sure what I'd hope to accomplish, other than to get free, I was surprised when Trist was suddenly gone from me, his weight no longer pressed hard against me. 

Only it wasn't me that had actually gotten him away from me.

It was James.

He'd used the slight distraction that my blow had caused Trist to pull him off me and had thrown his father across the room, into the corner which Lucy had sat a minute earlier.

"She's mine," James said, and he stood between me and his father. The both of them looked tense, eyes flashing.

Trist growled.

"I'm not sure you can make him see that," Robin said, suddenly next to me. "Not when he's lost in the dark."

"It's the only time I can," James said, voice rough.

"Come," Robin said, offering me his hand.

But James turned, eyes yellow and growled at Robin, who stepped away from me. Instead, Jame came over and reached for me, pulling me out of the room without a word.

I went, confused, but willing.

First I thought James just wanted me away from Trist. To defuse the situation, as I assumed Robin had meant to.  But he didn't let me go once we'd moved down to sets of stairs. 

Instead threw a door open and pushed me inside. I only had time to catch the briefest of glimpse of the dusty old bedroom he'd taken us to, before he pushed me, half lifting me against the door he'd just slammed close.

His mouth was hot and hungry as it closed over mine. His hands pinned my wrists to the door above my head as he kept on roguly kissing me.

"James?" I breathed as he let up for just a second, a little confused by the desire and the other faint traces of emotion I could feel through our bond. The intensity of them. Not that making love to James hadn't been intense before. But other than our second time, which had been on the floor, our love making had been constrained to beds.

This sudden lust, in this strange room of the manor which I'd never been in or known existed, was different. Exciting and terrifying in equal measures.

"You're mine," he said, growled, pulling out of the kiss to meet my eyes.

"Yes," I agreed. I wondered if this meant he was changing his plans, coming with me and Robin to Montreal. I also wanted to ask about Trist. And to tell him I understood him better and better the more time I spent here, around him, his pack, his father.

I tugged at my wrists wanting to run my hand through his hair, cup his face, but he held me firm. Both with his hands and his eyes.

"Mine," he said again, before actually letting go of my wrists so he could lift me completely and carry me over to the bed.

As he pushed me back a little and then pulled my T-shirt up to kiss and lightly tease my stomach with his teeth, I knew for sure what this was about.

I mean, I had known from the second his mouth found mine. But part of me hadn't been wanting to think about it. Hadn't wanted the feelings I sensed through the mate bond - which were different than desire and caring and even what I thought might be love - I'd sensed other times we'd been together.