Until they’d been outnumbered.
“You must miss them.” When she gave a nod, he asked, “How did they die?”
Ren’s throat tightened at the memory, and she pushed her plate away. “Perhaps I’ll tell you more about my family history—in the future.”
“Verra well.” Concern in his golden eyes, he said, “You must be done in.”
“I’m used to going without sleep.” Still, the weight of everything that had happened threatened to overwhelm her. But she had work to do, keeping Munro off the scent of her true plans.
He believed he was in a position of power. Good. She knew the truth.
You are my bait, wolf. And you can never know it.
THIRTY
Munro was in a bad, bad way.
Kicked back in his chair, he was the picture of ease on the outside. Inside, his Instinct screamed for him to kiss Kereny. Pet her. Soothe her jangling nerves in the most delectable way possible.
What he felt for her was like a foreign force growing within him, as volatile as the beast and already stronger. It robbed him of reason and heightened his emotions, which were becoming more linked to her own.
She rose and crossed to the window to gaze out at the night. Giving him her profile, she unsheathed her knife and twirled it—spin, toss, flip—with expert skill.
He sipped his whiskey, deciding he could watch her do that all night long.
When howls rang out, carrying over the valley, she switched her grip on her knife. “Are those regular wolves?”
“Just so. Gray wolves.”
She relaxed a fraction, lowering her blade. “Can you understand them?”
“Aye. They’re hungry and frustrated. Flocks of sheep are just out of their reach. The scent is maddening to the pack.” I can relate, he thought when his mate pulled her glossy mane over her shoulder, teasing him with her own luscious scent.
He fantasized that she’d bared her neck for his bite, and his fangs throbbed for the hundredth time tonight. He wanted all those silken tresses fanning out over a pillow as he rode her. Curls tickling her puckered nipples as she mounted him . . .
“Do they truly mate for life?” She turned from the window and caught him leering at her breasts, licking a fang.
No’ my best look. He wrenched his gaze from her chest to meet her eyes. “From the instant they find their mate, a wolf will remain true forever.” I will be true forever, Kereny.
Taut seconds passed between them; then she resumed her knife play. Spin, toss, flip.
Not exactly sleep-inducing. “What’s on your mind, huntress?”
She cast him a look from beneath those thick lashes. “Tell me you’ll give me a choice about transforming my species.”
“No. You must become immortal. If I told you I’d give you a choice, I’d be lying.” He held her gaze. “And I will never lie to you again.”
She took his measure. “It seems one of us believes what you’re saying.”
“Mark my words: I want your trust, and I’m going to earn it.”
She waved that away, as if he’d uttered something ridiculous. “If I died for some reason, you could always use the ring then. No need to turn me now.”
He wouldn’t survive her death again. He’d nearly lost his mind the first time, and that had been before he’d comprehended what Kereny would become to him: the meaning of everything. “No’ an option, lass.”
Clearly back on mission, she started toward him, peering at him like he was a target she was determined to hit. She probably saw him as another headache to contend with, the latest monster of the week.
When she sat beside Munro, his beast prowled inside, wanting even closer to its mate.
“Do I make you nervous, wolf?”
“Bit.”
“How can that be? I’m merely a mortal.”
“Because I want you dearly, and I have a feeling you’re about to use your wiles on me.” Judging by the ache in his cock, she’d already begun.
She canted her head. “Do you think they’d convince you not to turn me against my will?”
“No’ a whit. But denying us would challenge my self-control as never before. No’ to mention control over my beast.” The ongoing howls outside were like spurs to it. Down, creature!
“You said you have more control than most Lykae.”
“I did. Before the warlocks got hold of me.” Before he’d fed his beast pure rage. Munro drank deeply from his glass.
“The nymphs seemed certain that we’d make love tonight.”
He coughed on his whiskey. To claim Kereny this very night . . . catching her gasps with his lips as he fitted his swollen shaft inside her cunny . . .
“Are you planning to take me?”
Would give anything! “Nay. Nay. Aside from the fact that I could hurt you, I also will no’ risk getting you pregnant.”
“I thought you’ve wanted children.”
He had ever since Tàmhas had passed centuries ago. Now, in a stunning reversal, Munro didn’t. Already his mate had been forced to accept too many changes. And he would insist on still one more, the greatest yet.