FANG 10
“He was here!” I snap as I walk into King’s office.
King looks up from his phone with a frown. “Who?”
“Grimm, he was on the property.” I see King tense. “He also sent Myst a fucking cake.” The thought of his audacity has my fury ready to detonate.
“That means he is close,” King states as he stands to come around his desk. “I will send out the prospects to try to find him. You spend time with your mate because I’m sure you will soon confront your brother again.”
“This time he is going to die,” I promise.
King raises a hand, placing it on my shoulder as he looks at me. “Remember, when you confront him, rage will hamper you. You need to get rid of that rage and confront him with a clear mind.” I know what King is saying. I know that the anger I hold for everything that Grimm has done will blind me, which is dangerous when going into a fight.
“He tried to kill me, wounded my mate because of me, and stole my pack from me. I will not let him do anymore damage in my life; I will do what needs to be done.” My problem is that because he’s my brother, I’m reluctant to kill him, even though I knew that he’s evil to his core. But now that I have a mate, I will not take the chance of him hurting her again. “I will go look for Grimm myself.”
King shakes his head. “No, first we find out where he is,” he states. “Then, once we know it isn’t a trap, you can go in, or we bring him to us.” Everything within me wants to rush out there and find him, wants to make him pay, but I know that what King is saying is true.
“Fine,” I mutter as I turn to go and look for Myst, but I’m stopped by King’s next words.
“Fang.”
Glancing back, I wait for him to continue.
“You have a mate now, which means you have a future. Keep that in mind when confronting him.”
Without a reply, I close the office door behind me as I make my way towards my room. I know King is telling me to think with my head when I confront Grimm, that I must try not to let emotions cloud my judgement. But the problem is, I don’t know if I can do that. I don’t know if I can forget what my own brother did to me.
I never told anyone this, but the thing that hurt me most wasn’t the fight or the fact that I was blamed for killing someone when I didn’t. The thing that hurt me the most was that Grimm, not once, in all these years, tried to make amends. Not once did he regret his actions? Instead, he tried to stop my mate from coming to me. He wounded her with his jealousy—his hate.
When I was kicked out of my pack, I hated him, but now he’s my enemy. I will do whatever it takes to stop him. He will not hurt anyone close to me again, and he will not get the chance to wound me with his evilness again either.
I spent what was left of the day going through our property, making sure that there is nothing he did that would affect us. Knowing Grimm, he is capable of anything. But after entering the property, he doesn’t seem to have gone far because it looks like something, or someone spooked him and his tracks lead back over the wall. And even though I have walked every inch of the property, it doesn’t look like he came back inside.
Opening the door to the room, I stop when I see the candles. A scent of vanilla permeates the air, and then I see Myst walking out of the bathroom, and I swear my jaw just hit the ground.
Every thought has suddenly left my mind except for the blind passion that is filling my every cell. “Fuck, woman, what the hell are you wearing?” My voice is barely audible over the thundering of my heart.
Myst is standing in the candlelight. Red strings crisscross over her breasts and have my mouth watering when I see her nipples peeking out of the openings between the strings. The panties are another web of strings that, if I have my way, will soon be torn off her body and lying on the ground.
She raises her hand to cup one breast. The tease! “Umm, don’t you like it?” she asks innocently.
I take a step forward, pulling the door of the room closed behind me. My balls feel like I have two lead weights weighing them down. “I will show you just how much I like it!” I promise as I grab my T-shirt, pulling it off as I take another step closer.
Her eyes lower to my chest, her tongue flicks out to moisten her lips, which has me groaning deep in my throat.
Unbuttoning my jeans, I kick off my boots and then divest of my jeans, standing before her completely naked. My cock is hard and proud, twitching in anticipation, but I want to savour this moment. I want Myst to remember the day she became my mate.
Her hand rises to my chest, drawing her finger down my collarbone to my nipple. Motherfucker! She’s good. Before I can lose my head in more ways than one, my hand snaps up to hold her hand still against me.
“Nothing is going to stop me now,” I state, looking deep into her eyes as I take the last step needed to be right before her, and then I’m placing my hands on her perfect ass, lifting her.
Her legs encircle my waist as she lowers her head, taking her lips in an all-consuming kiss that leaves us both breathing sharply. Her arms surround my neck, her nails grazing my shoulders erotically. Our tongues duel in a dance older than time, our breath intermingling as one. Taking the steps needed to reach the bed, I lower her onto the mattress as I kneel on the ground, lifting her calves and placing them on my shoulders as I turn my head to kiss first one leg, then the other.
I can feel the slight tremors of anticipation coursing through her legs as my fingers run up her calves, knees, and then thighs until I slide them under her ass. I kiss her thigh slowly—thoroughly, taking my time, enjoying her soft intakes of breath as I nip at her skin.
“You are perfect!” I groan just before I lower my head. My teeth grab the top of her webbed panties, pulling them down. Every moment like a lifetime. When the panties are at the top of her thighs, I slide my tongue across the top of them until I’m at the ribbon on the front, and then with my teeth, I’m pulling the ribbon undone.
The web of red string starts to unravel until my woman is lying open before me. I kiss her mound, hearing her gasp as her left hand rises and her fingers are entwining in my hair. When I flick my tongue out and lick up the wetness that is evidence of her passion, she cries out, her voice hoarse with need.