emery
I've done everything I can think of to get some sleep. I took a hot shower, drank some water, counted sheep, and said all my prayers. Nothing. The exhaustion dogging me isn't enough to let me rest while Lenora is out there.
What exactly is she doing? I wonder for the hundredth time.
She said she was going to fix things, but I have no idea what that means. With her, "fixing" can take a lot of different meanings.
Sex. Talking. Beating somebody up. Killing someone, even.
Murder is a familiar sport to her. I know even before Jacob she offed people to become Alpha.
Is she going to kill Calla? My mouth fills with bile at the thought. I don't understand exactly what Calla knows or what her role is in all of this, but she's human. Like me. It seems wrong to blame her for getting into this mess, especially if she didn't partake willingly. Maybe Brian forced her.
But, human or not, she played a hand in Jacob nearly taking abducting me. I shudder to imagine where else I could be lying right now. Some kind of retribution is needed, but death?
It's not as though I have a say in the matter, though. I've done enough damage in the pack. Can I stand by as my mate reaps murder?
I turn onto my side, twisting the sheets around me, and sigh. Then, feeling hot, I kick the sheets down to my feet. The overhead fan whirs faithfully and brushes cool air against my exposed skin.
I flop over onto my stomach and reach for the nightstand drawer. My fingers fumble through its contents in the dark until I find purchase on the smooth screen of my cell phone. I pull it out and turn it on. By some chance, it isn't dead.
Once it reconnects to the signal, a list of texts and missed calls from my parents fills the screen. I massage my temple with one hand and scroll through them. I don't remember the last time I spoke to my parents and since I haven't returned any of their calls or texts in weeks, of course, they think I'm dead.
Maybe it's better that way.
I grimace at the unwelcome thought. I have to tell my parents something. They at least deserve to know I'm alive.
But what could I tell them? They'll want to know where I've been, what I've been doing. They might even drive up here to investigate if they think I'm in danger. And if I was my parent, I would think something had happened to me.
Denver's words come to mind from our conversation days ago, after I'd returned from my rogue kidnapping. He told me not to tell them anything.
My parents don't even know I was abducted and forced to live in the woods with a bunch of wolves. Not to mention the things I did to Ara or the things she did to me. I swallow back the rise of ashamed tears. Even with her dead, I don't know if I'll get over what she did to me.
I don't see a point in telling them about that now, though. They don't need to know about werewolves. My life has done nothing but change since I met Lenora, and I'm not willing to risk their sanity or safety to tell them.
A few tears roll down my cheeks. Naturally, I miss them. They raised me. They've always loved and supported me through everything—through school, friendships, quitting my old job. It feels so wrong to just . . . abandon them. I don't see how I can make a relationship work, though. Not without hurting them.
The rattle of the doorknob startles me and I stuff my cell phone under the pillow as I shoot up in the bed. My heart stammers in my chest, even though I know who is there. The door pushes open and Lenora's familiar shape lurches in. Holding my breath, I watch her close the door and shuffle to the bathroom.
I sink back against the headboard. My stomach flips. What if she won't forgive me for endangering the pack? I bite my lip to keep from breathing too quickly and giving myself away. I know I fucked up. I should have ignored Calla. After all the shit I've been through, I should have known better than to fall for that trap.
But I did and now I don't know if can stand the disappointment in Lenora's eyes when she looks at me. I'm supposed to be this Luna person, this leader in the pack. I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I didn't even know werewolves existed until a few weeks ago.
The shower turns on and silences my thoughts. I can't help but picture her stepping under the spray, the hot water sliding down her skin, over her breasts and abs, and into the thick, dark curls between her legs. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to force the tantalizing image away. Now is not the time to be thinking about sex. My life could be in pieces all because of my mistakes. I highly doubt Lenora is interested in doing that with me now anyway. She was so furious and cold with me when she left.
I shudder remembering the distance in her eyes and in the way she touched me. Wiping away the stupid tears, I pull the sheets up to my chin and turn my back to the bathroom. Several agonizing minutes pass but my consciousness never wanes. I wish I could fall asleep and wake up to a new day, but I'm too restless.
Finally, the bathroom door clicks open and light spills into the room. I pinch my eyes shut and focus on leveling my breathing. What am I even doing? She'll know I'm faking it.
The room turns dark but I don't hear a single noise or footstep until suddenly the bed is dipping. I know my efforts to appear asleep must be failing miserably because I can feel my heart slamming inside me. Arms encircle my waist and drag me to the middle of the bed. I squeak in surprise as Lenora buries her face into my hair.
"I can hear your heartbeat," she growls. "It sounds like a freight train."
I gulp but say nothing, partly petrified and partly exhilarated.
"And I can smell how wet you are for me."
My body betrays me with a quiver but I resist the desperate need to moan. Her hands roam my figure under the sheets until she finds the hem of my t-shirt. The coldness of her fingertips makes me hiss as she rubs my hips and then my stomach. Then she pushes me onto my back, straddling my waist. Her knees slide against my sides and pin me to the bed. When she tilts my chin up with her finger, I realize my eyes are still closed.
Hers practically glow in the darkness, or maybe it's the tiny bit of moonlight sneaking in that makes them seem so bright. Either way, I go breathless at the sight of this alluring huntress holding me captive. We stare at one another for what feels like an eternity. Then her hand is cupping my bare sex and sliding through my petals.
"No panties," she growls, her voice raspy. "Naughty, baby girl. Any old wolf could have just come in here and . . ."
I moan unrestrained as she dips her fingers inside of me. My walls grip her, reveling in the fullness of her feel.
"Had their way with you," Lenora finishes with a punishing thrust.
The licentious heat that rolls up my body makes me flush hotter, bashful, and I'm glad it's dark so she can't see.
She pushes my shirt up and uses her free hand to twist and roll my nipples. I gasp, squirming at the sensory overload, but she doesn't relent. I give up trying to breathe through my nose and let her hear my ragged breaths.
Lenora leans down so our faces are inches apart, her teeth and eyes gleaming predatorily. My heart gallops again behind its ribbed prison. Then she sinks her teeth into my neck, right over the scarred mark.
Stars explode behind my eyelids and bolts of electricity race through my nerves as I climax harder than I ever have. I feel my vocal cords ache as I scream, but her hand over my lips mutes the sound.
"Shhh," she hushes me. "Can't have you waking the whole house, baby girl."
I deflate into the mattress and feel the exhaustion begin to take over. Her tongue assuages the new wound, lapping at it until, even in my stupor, I feel my cunt ache again.
"You're all mine," she murmurs into my ear, her warm, moist breath tickling me. "All mine."