LITMIR.BIZ

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the little tank top she wore rising up to reveal her sexy tummy and a tiny, dark tattoo that was scrolled around her navel, he realized it would be damn near impossible.

      Sweet little Sayre had a tattoo?

      Holy...shit. He was fairly certain that his jaw had just dropped down to somewhere around his ankles, his cock so hard he probably wasn’t going to be able to walk straight. He didn’t know what the intricate symbols of the tattoo meant, but he’d have sold his damn soul in that moment for the chance to drop down on his knees in front of her and press his open mouth to that provocative little piece of artwork. And he sure as hell wouldn’t stop there. Trailing his tongue down the center of her body, he would keep going until he was breathing in the sweet, humid scent of her where it would be the richest. Like hot, wild honey on his tongue, melting down his throat, making him hunger in a way he didn’t think any human male could ever completely experience. A hunger that went deeper than his flesh—that bled down into his veins and his bones and pumped through the very heart of him.

      A drop of sweat slid down the searing heat of his temple, stinging the corner of his eye, and he shook himself out of his thoughts, painfully aware that they weren’t leading to any place he’d be able to go. And damned if it weren’t enough to make him want to bawl like a friggin’ baby. Or howl at the rising moon.

      When she reached for something in the back pocket of those short-as-hell shorts and started to walk around the back of the cabin, Cian pushed off from the tree he’d been leaning against, ready to change his position so that she wasn’t out of his sight. But he froze when his cell phone suddenly vibrated in the front pocket of his jeans, his brows lifting with surprise. He was unused to anyone trying to contact him, since the number was one he’d gotten after he’d left five years ago, and there were only a few informants he’d employed over that time who he’d given it to. They rarely contacted him, and how was he even getting reception out here?

      This is so ridiculous. I know you’re out there. Leave. Now. Before I go all West Virginia on your ass.

      The text was from Sayre?

      How the hell did you get my number?

      I asked Mic for it.

      Ah, that’s right. He’d texted Brody that morning, so his number was in the Runner’s phone. All Mic had to do was—

      Enough stalling, his beast snapped, cutting him off. Text her back!

      How did you know I’m out here?

      That’s not the issue, Cian. Leave. Like I told you before, I don’t want you here.

      He rubbed the back of his neck, wondering just how strong her powers had gotten over the last five years. Christ, she couldn’t read his mind, could she? No, if she could, then she’d know about the danger from Aedan, which meant she’d understand how serious he was about taking her back to the Alley, where the others could help him protect her.

      Knowing he just needed to get it over and done with, like ripping off a bloody bandage, his fingers flew across the keypad as he typed in his response.

      I can’t leave, Sayre. I’m here because you’re in danger. You need to give me the chance to explain.

      She didn’t text back right away, and he hoped she was finally taking him seriously. Then his phone vibrated again.

      No explanations needed. If that’s true, then I can take care of myself. Just go.

      He cursed, hesitating, then forced himself to write:

      I can’t. It’s because of me.

      Huh. So what did YOU do? Do I have some psychotic jilted lover coming after me now? Did you accidentally let it slip that you have a mate? Should’ve told the poor woman you want nothing to do with me. She’s wasting her time.

      Oh, Jesus. He barked out a dry laugh, even though there was nothing remotely funny about the situation. Not want her? There were parts of her he wanted so badly he was surprised the need hadn’t permanently damaged him.

      Would serve you right, his beast muttered with disgust, as disappointed in him as everyone else who had ever meant anything to him.

       You’re damned right I am. And you sound pathetic.

      Irritated that the animal had just called him out for taking part in an embarrassing private pity party, he started to make his way toward the cabin, ready to face the wrath of Sayre and her gun, when he and his beast both instantly realized something was wrong. While the wolf chuffed in his head, Cian lifted his nose and sniffed the mountain air, searching for what had snagged his attention, and promptly finding it. Two...no, three human males were closing in on Sayre’s cabin from the north, and Cian stealthily headed in their direction, until he could pick up their muted conversation.

      “Oh, man, he didn’t tell us she was such a hot little piece. I’m thinking we need to try this one out before we deliver her,” one of them said, obviously eyeing Sayre through the trees.

      “I get her first,” argued a second male.

      “Like hell you do,” a new voice cackled. “You always break them and then they aren’t any fun for the rest of us.”

      “But I’ve got a thing for redheads,” the second one whined.

      “We don’t give a shit. You can wait your fuckin’ turn.”

      Cian moved silently through the trees, drawing nearer, every part of him completely focused on his prey. Did these idiots actually think he was going to let them get close to her? Did they have any idea what they were walking into? Either way, it didn’t matter. Their fates had been sealed the instant they voiced their intentions.

      “Let’s spread out, blocking her exits. That asshole who hired us said it might be a few days before he showed up to collect her, and I’d rather spend the time we’ve got with her having fun than running her down.”

      One of his friends snickered. “That’s just because your bum knees don’t hold up anymore. But I kinda like the thought of chasing her down like a bitch.”

      In that moment, Cian almost regretted the necessity of killing them quickly. It no doubt made him a brutal bastard, but he would have enjoyed making these assholes suffer long and hard before he finally finished them off.

      He quickly texted Sayre, ordering her to lock herself inside the cabin. Then he shoved the phone in his pocket, and released his long, lethal fangs and claws, the sharp tips piercing through gum and skin with a brief but familiar bite of pain. Without the light of the moon, this was as much as his body could shift form, but it was more than enough. Whatever weapons the humans possessed, they weren’t going to be any match for his speed and skill.

      In normal circumstances, he would have never revealed the deadly, animalistic side of his nature in front of humans, since the Lycan race’s existence was a carefully protected secret from the vast majority of the population. But these weren’t normal circumstances, and these assholes weren’t ever going to leave this mountain.

      Relaxing his tether on his beast, Cian allowed the wolf to prowl closer to his surface, the animal’s possessive, visceral need to protect its mate punching deeper into his system, ramping his adrenaline at the same time he shifted into a state of total focus. His objective was extremely simple: destroy the threat by any means necessary. With a deep breath and a flex of his claws, he launched his attack.

      It took only seconds to find the first male in the line of trees behind her cabin, the vile stench of body odor impossible to miss for someone with Cian’s acute sense of smell. He slashed his claws across the human’s throat and swiftly retreated to avoid as much of the thick, crimson spray as he could. Its rich scent had his pulse ramping up, the blackened part of his soul that he hated with such ferocity awakening with the rush for more. For that wet, slick spill to slide down his throat and feed the darkness. Forcing himself to abandon the kill and move on, he quickly closed in on the second human from behind, the bastard never even knowing he was there until he felt the sharp press of Cian’s

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