Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, Cullen watched her silently. She was curled beneath the sheets, her expression relaxed, breathing deep and even.
He’d taken her again and again until she’d collapsed against his chest, falling asleep before the barb released its grip on her. Perspiration had soaked both their bodies and dampened the sheets. But when he’d eased her off him to the pillows, she hadn’t even blinked.
Hell, she’d done no more than mumble sleepily when he’d taken a damp cloth and cleaned the sweat and their mingled releases from her before changing the sheets.
And now she was still sleeping just as deeply, as Cullen felt his brother enter the back door and move silently through the house.
The twin bond they shared had never waned, even when Graeme had been driven to insanity by the mating hormone in his system and the inhuman experiments of a scientist who enjoyed driving Breeds to the worst depths of a living hell.
When his brother had escaped he’d found Cullen. A monster, maddened by the above-genius-level intelligence he possessed and the animal instincts fighting for dominance. But even as the Primal, Graeme had known a strange sort of empathy, even if he had lacked compassion at the time.
“The mating’s strong,” Graeme commented, leaning against the wall beside Cullen and crossing his arms over his chest. “As is the animal waking within you.”
Cullen’s lips curled in contempt at the comment.
The animal was strong, his ass. It was a testosterone-driven snarling beast clawing at his brain and his senses.
He wanted to shoot it.
“You’re a stubborn man, Cullen,” his brother sighed. “It only stands to reason that the Primal animal that’s been sleeping inside you is just as stubborn. So stubborn it remained hidden at a time when you were at your most determined to call it forth.”
“Why would I need it, then?” Leaning against the frame of the door, he crossed his arms over his chest and shot his brother a derisive look. “Those instincts weren’t there when I wanted them to be, why would I want them now?”
It didn’t seem to matter what he wanted, though, because the animal that had remained so still and silent since he was a young boy was coming alive with a vengeance.
“Because now it doesn’t just matter to the man, but to the animal as well?” Graeme asked knowingly. “Come on, Cullen, you let her walk away from you even after the first signs of Heat began showing inside both of you. You woke those instincts with your refusal to claim her.”
“Bullshit,” he muttered.
Stepping forward, he gripped the doorknob and closed the door silently before stalking through Chelsea’s house to the kitchen.
“Don’t you have better things to do than harass me, Graeme?” he asked, keeping his voice low. “I know I have better things to do than to be harassed.”
Graeme’s chuckle wasn’t as grating as it should have been; he let it pass by him with no more than a grimace of irritation.
“Harassing you is always a favored pastime,” Graeme assured him. “My research indicates it has something to do with the fact that we share that twin instinct.” For a second a hint of confusion flashed in his expression before he gave a little shake of his head and a dismissive shrug. “Researching that has been almost as interesting as the research I’ve done on the recessed animal genetics.”
“Neither of which you figured out,” Cullen pointed out as he pulled open the refrigerator door for a bottle of water. Extracting two, he tossed Graeme the other, uncapped his own and took a long drink.
“I don’t have to answer all the questions,” Graeme answered with a hint of mockery. “Just some of them.”
“Evidently you haven’t answered any that could have helped me at any given time,” Cullen snorted, rubbing one hand over the back of his neck. “And what the hell makes you think the mating began before she resigned? I wasn’t sleeping with her.”
“You bit her the morning she resigned,” Graeme reminded him. “She told Cat about it. She was quite put out that you didn’t kiss her.”
Cullen stared back at Graeme blandly. He was definitely going to have to have a talk with Chelsea about sharing confidences with Cat.
Telling Cat was the same as telling Graeme. Even Cullen knew that one.
It didn’t change the truth, though. He had nipped her neck that morning. His frustration level had exploded when she’d given him her resignation. He knew now what had happened, though then he hadn’t thought to question if his Breed instincts were making an appearance.
As Chelsea had tried to leave the house, the impulse to pull her to him, to mark her neck, had been impossible to control. The animal that had been so silent inside him for so long had awakened that morning with a vengeance. Just long enough for the animal to claim her.
“Usually once the mating begins, there’s no going back,” Graeme began.
“The glands beneath the tongue,” Cullen murmured. “The cinnamon taste when I kiss her.” His brow furrowed. “They weren’t swollen that morning.”
Graeme shrugged again. “Your instincts allowed just enough of the hormone to release that it would ensure no other could take what belonged to you. Especially a Breed. She carried just a hint of the mating scent, just enough that it was detectable. Even I didn’t realize what the scent meant at first.”