Chapter 9
“You still are. You’ll never outrun your destiny.” Evan took a step in her direction, and Elizabeth aimed the gun a foot in front of his boots and pulled the trigger.
The shit head didn’t even jump.
“That was the only warning you’ll get, asshole. Not another step or the next one is through the heart.”
“I’m your guard,” he answered. “My job is to protect and guide you.”
“I’m her protector,” Rhys growled and stepped up beside her.
Evan made a gesture to the blood soaking Rhys’ shirt from the wound at her shoulder. “She’s bleeding. You both are. We need to take this in the house so I can tend to her.”
“If you’d like to keep your hands, I’d suggest letting Rhys tend to her,” Max advised, stepping forward with Dylan flanking him.
There was way too much testosterone aimed at her in the clearing. Not to mention that she was seeing more of Rhys’ brothers than should be legally allowed.
Rhys tenderly brushed the shirt to the side to see the damage left by the bite marks at her shoulder. They were already healing because of her shift. She touched the wound, her fingertips coming away sticky and wet, yet she felt no pain from the wound thanks to the adrenaline pumping through her body.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He swept her off her feet. She squealed in protest, bound in his embrace, while he carried her back toward the house. “Bring him inside,” he called over his shoulder.
“Put me down. I can walk.”
“I know,” he answered, holding her tighter, careful of her shoulder. He pressed a lingering kiss to her head. “I’ll put you down when we’re inside, Abigail.”
“Call me that one more time and it’s you who will need patching up, bear.” Elizabeth rolled her eyes but settled into his embrace. “My name is Elizabeth. Abigail died years ago.”
Rhys carried her straight into the house, ignoring the burning steaks still on the grill.
She glanced over his shoulder longingly at the black smoke rising from the grill. “The assholes ruined our food.” She pouted.
He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ll feed my kitty some meat.” He took the stairs two at a time, which was impressive with her in his arms. “You could have told me your animal was a tiger.”
“Well….” She snapped her lips closed. The Siberian tiger may have been one of her animals, but she had a crap load more that could have just as easily made an appearance. “There’s a lot more I need to tell you.”
He stomped through the room directly into the bathroom, putting her down on the counter between the double sinks.
“You don’t need to go to all this trouble. I’m sure it’s healed by now.” Without thinking twice, she pulled the shirt off and set it beside her, twisting her torso to get a better look at the scratch in the mirror. It was on the same side as the mark Boris left on her.
“I know you’re new to shifting into an animal, but we don’t just heal completely because we shift.”
“I do,” she answered matter-of-factly, not sure what to make of the fact that others didn’t. Was that just another anomaly that separated her from the others?
Rhys used a wet washcloth to wipe away the blood. He paused, resting his hands on her legs, looking at her freshly knit skin. His mouth parted and he just stared at her shoulder. The same side of her body where the scars Boris had given her had knit back together, leaving only a light pink scar where the tear had once been. “I don’t…”
He lightly touched the year-old scar on her shoulder, and heat flushed her skin. She was sitting entirely naked in front of her mate for the first time. A single touch and flames licked her veins, making her throb at her core. Her nipples pebbled, begging for his touch.
“Who did this to you?” he asked. His lips dipped into a frown.
“A dead bear,” she answered placing her hand over his. She slowly moved his fingers in a path over her collarbone until they rested on her breast. Whether it was the adrenaline from the fight or just the fact that her mate was standing between her legs and naked as the day he was born, she didn’t care. She traced the muscles on his chest and arms, exploring him for the first time, pulling her deeper into a lust-filled haze.
She reached between his legs and stroked her thumb over the head of his shaft. Running her fingers down his length, she gripped him and pulled in long, even strokes.
“Elizabeth.” Her name came out as a growl deep in his chest as he lowered his head, running his wet tongue around her rosy nipple. He scraped his teeth along the tender flesh before sucking it deep into his mouth. His hand stilled hers on his shaft, and he pulled it away to rest at his side before cupping her other breast, running his thumb over the peak.
Fuck….the sensations consumed her, reminding her of all of the feelings she’d given up.
“Oh god.” She moaned, scraping her nails in a light path down his back. She needed to be closer. She needed to feel him.
