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“Lass, we have no’ harmed anyone, but we might. We’ve got to get to the woods.” A chase would be irresistible to her newling wolf. Would he have time to get them far enough away? Depends on how fast I can run. “Kereny, look at me!”

She slowed and turned to him.

He started unbuttoning his shirt. This one’s goin’ to hurt.

FIFTY-EIGHT

The beast had taken complete control of Ren’s movements. If she had the urge to stop and it wanted to run, then her body would obey the beast.

The first time she’d driven an automobile, she’d gone too fast down an icy road. The car had skidded to the right, then to the left—then farther left, even farther—until she’d rocketed down a hill backward.

This experience reminded her of that chaotic drive. Merely holding on for dear life.

Tomorrow she would figure out how to tamp down her beast. Yes, tomorrow. She would come up with a plan and execute . . .

Reasoned thought vanished when Munro took off his shirt. Her heartbeat quickened at the sight of his bared chest. MINE!

No longer was the Instinct instructing her to learn or die. It screamed: —MATE!—

The sun had set, but she could see every sculpted inch of his torso, could hear his own heartbeat accelerate as she stalked closer to him.

“Your eyes are eating me alive.” He sounded relieved. “I think I’m your mate, love.”

Oh, you will be. Yet before she could sink her claws into him, he turned from her and began running away. He was going to make her beast pursue him, getting them away from the settlement.

Anticipation surged inside her, and she took off after him. As she zoomed past buildings toward an unfamiliar forest, she gaped at her sprinting legs. Her speed boggled the mind. Her senses too.

When she passed fireflies, she could see their minuscule heat trails. She even heard the lighting mechanism sparking inside their tiny bodies.

Streamers of moss tickled each other, adding notes to the symphony of sound. Pine needles raked the night air, steeping it with fragrance.

A breeze slid through the woods and washed over her body. Her sensitive skin felt like stardust—a touch would transform her forever.

Overriding everything, she was attuned to Munro. The beating of his mighty heart. That addictive scent of his. The sight of her werewolf mate wending through trees, completely in his element.

The chase was incredible! Every footfall ratcheted up her arousal. But she couldn’t speak to tell him.

He ran out onto a jut of land, surrounded on three sides by a bayou. Cypress trees lined the shore, framing a grassy clearing.

She cornered him there. They circled each other. Some memory buried deep in her Instinct called for a mating ritual on this night. But her newling ferocity drowned out that guidance.

“Lass, this is no’ how I planned for things to be. I wanted to ease you into sex. I will no’ be in control of myself.” His muscles bulged, his eyes flickering blue.

Munro and his control. She could regenerate now!

His beast’s features began to emerge, the sight exciting her own beast. But he was clearly wrestling to keep it leashed. Sweating in the night air, he wore a stoic expression—a gallows expression—yet his manhood had never been harder.

She tore her gaze away from him when the rising moon painted the surface of the water. A ray of light hit her skin. She could actually feel it. The warmth turned her blood to wine, her breaths to vapor. This was . . . heaven.

She’d just had that thought when her beast made her lunge for Munro.

Before Munro could blink, he was on his back, Kereny atop him. “Go easy, love!”

She didn’t. She flared her black claws and slashed off his jeans. Then a boot.

His own claws and fangs were lengthening. How could he resist her? His only hope now was to take her virginity as gently as possible before the moon claimed him. The beast wouldn’t know to go slow, would rut her with all its power.

If Munro had trusted that she would come back to him, he could’ve prepared for this. Could’ve gotten a contraceptive. Under the influence of the moon, he would likely impregnate her. If she ever regained control of her beast, would some part of her resent him for taking away her choice once more?

Love and lust and dread all got twisted up inside him, with the moon heightening every emotion. . . .

Her dress soon shared the same fate as his clothes, slashed to ribbons and cast away. Then she was atop him, naked as a dream.

Lykae loved the chase, in and of itself. But even more than the chase, they loved the catch.

I’ve caught my mate at last. Or she’s caught me. I have her.

The moon continued its steady rise over the cypress trees until light shone directly down on them, bathing her body in torrents of silver. He gazed in awe at Kereny’s wolven state.


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