Although the urge had lessened in its intensity since then, the need to claim her was still an ache in his soul. Resisting was no easier for his cat. The feline had been restless and antsy for months. Now, however, he was calm and smug as hell. This wasn’t an occasion where they were collecting their mate to spend a little time with her. No, they would be taking her to their lair, where she belonged … and she wouldn’t be leaving this time.
As he finally drove through the gates of Sylvan territory, Luke spared her a sideways glance. If she was regretting her decision to leave, it didn’t show on her face. A face so beautiful it made his chest tighten.
Someone shouldn’t be able to look both sweet and edgy at the same time, but she did. With her large ivy-green eyes, delicately pointed chin, cute little dimples, and pale blonde hair, she looked like she belonged in a choir of angels. But, even when calm, she had a steely, daring, unnerving stare that said, “fuck with me and no one will ever find your body.”
She always drank everything in with that gaze, like a lion surveying its surroundings from a distance. And when she opened her mouth, the sexiest voice came out … and you could never quite be sure what she’d say.
Tall, she was only a few inches shorter than him. Though she was slender, she had round full breasts and gently curved hips. Her ass was a thing of beauty, and those shapely legs went on for days.
The anger that right then vibrated in his bones did nothing to dim his ever-present need for her. He guessed she was having the same issue, because sexual tension bounced from him to her and back again, making the air in the vehicle thick and electric.
Said tension had hounded them for long enough. The drive to claim pulsed incessantly between them like a heartbeat. It was maddening and exhausting and drove his libido insane. He was done fighting it.
Her phone rang, but she didn’t bother to pluck it out of her pocket. She probably suspected that the caller was her mother. The woman was no doubt flipping her lid right now.
Highly controlling though Noelle might be, she wasn’t unfeeling or cruel. Her whole “I want what’s best for you” wasn’t bullshit. Luke had seen the love in her eyes as she looked at her daughter. He’d also seen the fear that was twined around that emotion. A fear of loss, of pain, of history repeating itself. A fear that drove her to make selfish decisions and not actually see that they were selfish. She truly had convinced herself that she was acting in Blair’s best interests.
Noelle had tried driving Luke away over the years. Not in obvious ways—that would have meant breaking her word. But she’d done small, subtle things to grate on his nerves, goad him into picking fights, and make things so hard that he’d decide Blair was more trouble than she was worth. Like he would ever have walked away from his mate or allowed any of that to poison his connection with her. Like he could ever have abandoned her even if he’d wanted to—she was too essential to him.
Before Blair, his mind had been a dark place. A place of roiling black clouds, bitterly cold rain, distant claps of thunder, and howling winds that uprooted his thoughts and left mental chaos in their wake. There was no shelter from the storm. Only an endless blackness. A blackness birthed from the grief, shame, and anger that had merged into a raging force inside him. A force that was dark and destructive.
Even surrounded by people, he’d been lonely; never sad, never happy—just numb. Numb and alone, lost in a fog with no way out. And God, he’d been tired. So goddamn tired—physically, emotionally, mentally. Sleep had been his only escape.
While existing in that shadowy fog that simply wouldn’t shift, he’d watched as everyone else had gone about their lives. He’d felt utterly disconnected from everything and everyone. Like he’d been sleepwalking. He hadn’t felt like a person. Hadn’t felt real.
Not many people had noticed. He’d smiled. Laughed. Bantered. But it had been a performance, nothing more. He’d found no true joy or pleasure in anything.
A constant weight had sat on his chest. There had been times when every breath had felt like a strain on his lungs. But then, six years ago, he’d looked into Blair’s eyes … and he’d taken his first real breath in what felt like too long. The fog around him had shifted, the blackness had dimmed, and the sheet of glass through which he viewed the world had cracked.
Intellectually, he’d known that living without the other half of his soul meant he wasn’t complete. But he hadn’t truly grasped that until he’d found her.