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Funny, I’m not sure I want to kill her anymore. My little rabbit, slipping from the fox’s jaw. No, I want to own her. Own her like this knife.
“You’ve done more than mark me,” I growl, tugging her up against my body. “I have?” “You’ve captivated me.”
There’s far more beauty in the broken, in the damaged, than there ever was in the perfect, in the complete, in the whole. Is that why? Is that why she was destined for me?
Every fiber of my body wants us to be together. But I need to understand who I am and I need space to do that.
Don’t want some other wolf chasing my rabbit. She’s mine. I’m doing the chasing.
People are so fucking touchy. Especially about their body parts.
They always said I had the attention span of a flea. But that only applies to the things that bore me. The things that interest me, you know, like stalking, killing, torturing, hey, I’ve got unbridled attention for those things.
The professor hesitates for a fraction of a second and then he’s kissing me back. Pressing his mouth hard against mine and kissing me like he means it, like he wants it, like I’m his.
“Are you saying there could be more?” I say. “More fated mates?” Stone chuckles. “Two not enough for you, Blackwaters?”
frown because this sensation, the one in my stomach, the one I now know is my bond, I’ve felt it with others, haven’t I? Not as strong, not as powerful, but I have felt it.
like I’m worthy of all their attention, and it feels so special, so different, to be worshiped instead of reviled...
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Maybe this is a dream? Maybe they are playing me, fooling me, tricking me with some kind of deceptive magic? Because how is it possible? How? How can I be the fated mate for these two men? Powerful, strong, beautiful.
“No, I have a desire to share my mate with her other fated partner. With my best friend. With a man I’ve always known would share my fate.” “What?” “Phoenix and I have always shared a connection. A platonic connection,” he adds quickly, seeing my eyebrows rise up my forehead. “I knew if I ever found my fated mate, that mate would be Phoenix’s too.”
“You’re not in charge, Summer Clutton-Brock. You’re a bully and a bitch. And if you ever touch me again, I will mess up that pretty face of yours so badly you’ll weep every time you look in the mirror.”
“Spencer, you had hundreds of people cheering out there for you today, chanting your goddamn name. Who cares if I was there or not?” “I care,” he says, holding my eyes, his chestnut gaze softening. “I wanted you there.”
He growls, the noise low and rumbling in his chest. I stare at him, that earlier thought from the match flitting through my mind again. Wolf. I shake my head.
I frown. I’m going to find my own way to deal with that girl. “Thinking? Sounds serious.” “I wasn’t thinking about you, Jerk-face,” she mutters. “Miss Blackwaters,” I say, ignoring the insult, “let’s not pretend you aren’t always thinking about me, when we both know you are.”
“Yes,” she says. “The bond will seal.” Yes, if I give myself to her – either by magic or by body – that fated-mate bond will be sealed. Forever.
This girl, so fucking young, has been through so much, and though she’s spat and hissed like a cat, I’ve never seen her cry. It fucking cracks my heart in two.
