She turned her face into his touch. “You should…find some clothes.”

“Why?” Wolves had never been concerned with modesty. “I’m about to fuck you.”

Her eyes widened.

Now he was the one lying. With her, it wasn’t just fucking. Not just screwing in the dark–or the light. It was more.

Mating.

He took a breath and could almost taste her. “Tell me the secrets you’ve been keeping…tell me…and I’ll tell you mine.”

She shook her head. “You know–”

“The vampires were watching the compound. They saw you leave.” Obvious. He wasn’t a damn idiot. Desperate for her, yeah, but not stupid. “Then they saw me.” The vamps had given chase, but they would have been watching from a distance, probably using scopes or binoculars, so it had taken them a while to close in. “And they came out to kill me.”

He stepped closer. Pressed his lips against her throat and inhaled her scent. Sex and woman. His. “You were sweet bait.” He didn’t care. The vampires had hurt her. Tortured her. Used her against him. She’d been sent to lure him out in the open.

So the fuck what?

He still wanted her. Always would.

“No.” Her word was a sigh as her hands lifted to curl around his shoulders. “You don’t understand.”

He licked her neck. Her shiver wasn’t from the cold that time. “Make me understand.” Because he could see a pretty clear picture. She didn’t have a choice. The man understood that, and he was furious at the vamps who’d done this to her. “You should have just told me, from the start. I could have protected you–”

Her nails dug into his skin. “No.”

Surprised by the fury in that one word, Drake lifted his head and stared down at her.

Her breath whispered out as she stared at him. Her eyes were chips of green ice. “This time,” she told him, “I’m protecting you.”

What?

Then she wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled him toward her. Her lips were open, slightly cool, and her mouth–perfect.

His cock was already hard. Like the cold had put a damper on that. He ached for her, and that bed was just waiting for them.

One step.

Two.

Three.

They fell onto the bed. His hands fought to remove her clothes even as she kicked away her boots. He wanted in her. The truth, the lies–all that could wait. Right then, he just needed her.

The lake…

Waiting…

He wasn’t gonna wait anymore. They stripped in a tangle of hands. Fabric ripped. Boots and shoes hit the floor.

He tore her panties and tossed them aside. He pushed open her legs. Found her hot, soft. He pushed her legs farther apart and stared down at her pink flesh. So damn pretty.

Because he couldn’t resist, Drake bent his head and put his lips against her sex. Her hips rocked up against him.

“Drake!”

He loved it when she screamed his name. The room had been sound-proofed. No one outside would hear her. Only him.

He licked her clit. Tasted her. So delicious. So good.

So his.

Her hands were in his hair. Not urging him away, no, his vampiress was asking for more.

He’d give her more.

He licked. He tasted.

She came against his tongue. “Drake.” A whisper now.

Slowly, he rose above her. Her eyes were wide, shining, and her fangs flashed faintly from behind her red lips.

“You’re not a monster.” It pissed him off that she’d said those words before. No fucking way. Not her. Not ever. “You’re beautiful.”

She blinked up at him, and her lips curled in a faint smile. The sight nearly broke his heart.

What was left of the damn thing.

He thrust into her, driving deep, joining them. His hands locked with hers, their fingers threading together. The bed squeaked beneath him. In and out, he thrust. Again and again. Their eyes held.

Their breath heaved out.

Faster, faster now, harder…

Her legs locked around his hips. Her feet dug into his spine when she arched toward him.

His claws cut through his fingertips, but he didn’t slice her. Hell, no, he didn’t so much as scratch her with his claws.

Deeper, deeper.

He saw her come again. Saw the flash of pleasure on her face as she eyes seemed to go blind. She jerked beneath him and her sex squeezed his cock.

Yes.

He was so close to coming. He’d explode in her at any moment when she–

“Mark me.”

Her husky words had every muscle in his body tightening.

Wolves marked their mates. He hadn’t marked her before, he’d been waiting. There was an official ceremony, a marking in front of the pack. He’d wanted to do things right with her.

He’d waited…

And lost her.

“Mark me,” she whispered again, and dammit, she was asking for his bite. She wanted him as wildly as he wanted her.

He’d never been able to deny her anything.

She arched beneath him, offering herself. His teeth closed over her flesh, right where her shoulder curved into her neck. He licked the skin there.

Mark her.

It was what the wolf wanted and what the man needed.

His teeth pressed into her skin, breaking the skin, and the sweet flavor of her blood flowed onto his tongue.

Even as he tasted her, claimed her, his climax slammed into him. The powerful release crashed through his body as he pumped into her. He lifted his head, stared into her eyes, and, as he drove into her once more, the pleasure tore a roar from him.

Her name.

Drake held her tight, didn’t let her go, couldn’t. And he kept thrusting. Because he was still hard for her and growing harder every second.

He’d finally claimed her as his own, and no one would ever take her from him again.

***

“How do you lose a werewolf?” Gabe asked as his boots sank into the snow. So much damn snow. Bathing everything in white.

He hated that pure snow.

It looked much better when it was stained red.

So he turned to the right and sliced open the stomach of the incompetent newbie vamp next to him.

The fresh bloods were always so hard to train.

The guy, a blond with too-soft features, immediately fell to the ground, gasping and bleeding with a bright spray of red.

“Suck it the hell up,” Gabe snarled at him because the fresh blood’s screams grated. “It’s not like the wound will kill you.” But he was tempted. Oh, so tempted to finish the job.

The foolish bastards around him had let the alpha get away. They’d let the prick just vanish into the wilderness.

“Probably back at his compound by now,” Gabe muttered as he spun away and stared off into the distance. “Surrounded by all those mangy wolves.”

Gabe had been around a long time. Too long. He’d seen the worst wars and hell that the humans could create.

That hell…it had made him smart. He’d learned from the mistakes of the others. He knew how to pick his battles. Plan his attacks.

He wanted this land. The land that was rarely kissed by sunlight. The land with the savage side that loved his darkness.

The wolves had made a truce with him long ago. Divided the territory. That twisted freak Jeremiah had been all too eager to forge a deal with him.

But the new alpha wasn’t the same. Gabe had known that for years. Drake Wyler was different. Not so easily manipulated and controlled.

Drake will come for my head.

Because Gabe had taken the head of Drake’s father. His mother. And because…

I took her.

A wolf howled in the distance. A real beast? Or a shifter out for a run?

Gabe narrowed his eyes and stared into the darkness. Jeremiah had wanted him to take the little human. To torture her, to kill her.

He’d had his torturing fun. Oh, he always enjoyed that, but…

Gabe hadn’t killed Paige Sloan. Death would have been too easy and not at all in line with his plans.

“Wh-what can we do?” One of the vamps asked behind him.

Gabe’s teeth ground together. “She stopped screaming,” he gritted out. When she’d finally realized what was happening, when she’d seen Jeremiah and had known why she was taken, Paige had stopped calling out for her lover.

He’d actually seen the life fade from her eyes, even while she was still breathing.

That total lack of feeling–he’d seen that look before.

In my own eyes.

So he’d stopped Jeremiah from gutting her. Gabe had bitten Paige, transformed her. She’d fled, but he’d watched her. And he’d always known that the perfect time would come to use her.

That time was now.

“H-he followed her out to the lake, ran right out…” Ah, this came from the still bleeding blond. John. John Mackenzie. How long had he been in the fold? Two years? Three? It was getting hard for Gabe to remember all the fresh bloods. As he stared at the blond, John gave a quick nod. “He chased her out…I saw ‘em…through my binoculars.”

Because you couldn’t get too close to a wolf’s lair, not without being scented. So the vamps used technology to supplement their already enhanced vision.

They’d watched. They’d waited. They’d attacked.

The plan had still gone to hell.

“He took her with him.” This came from one of the other vamps. The one with the dark eyes and weathered skin. Lorenzo, the Spaniard. “She’s probably dead by now.”

Gabe laughed. They really didn’t understand the wolf at all. He did. “She’s probably getting fucked.” Because she was the one weakness that Drake possessed. He’d run away from his pack for her. Run into danger for her.

The wolf was addicted, and Gabe had no doubt that, if necessary, Drake would trade his life for Paige.

Snow crunched to the left of him. The vamps around him swore and leapt forward.

Gabe shoved them out of the way. He wanted to see this visitor.

Curiosity had always been his weakness.

The white wolf edged from the darkness with his eyes glowing. The beast didn’t attack. He just stared at Gabe with that intense gaze.

Gabe smiled at him. “All alone are you?” Because there were no other sounds at that lake. This wasn’t a wolf out leading an attack party.

This was something altogether different.

Gabe crossed his arms over his chest. “If you’re here to deal…” So many deals, so many years. He knew just how the devil felt. When will it end? “Then you’re gonna have to shift and talk to me because I don’t fucking speak animal.”

The white wolf crept forward. His wary gaze darted to each of the vampires.

“Shift,” Gabe snapped, losing patience, “or I can just go ahead and kill you now.”

The wolf began to shift. Disgusting. Gabe hated the sight of the shifting wolves.

Even though he did enjoy the sounds of those popping bones.

But soon enough, a man stood before him. Fury tightened the man’s face and hands. “I know where they are.”

Fatal mistake. The wolf was just throwing all of his cards out for them to see. Now, they just had to torture the shifter to get that important information.

No deal. Just pain.

Death.

Some blood.

Snow stained red…It could be so lovely.

“I’ll take you there,” the werewolf said, “ and get you past the security.”

Security. So perhaps he would be useful after all. The pain could wait a bit. Gabe lifted a brow but didn’t move forward. “And you’ll do this because…?”

“Because I want to be alpha.”

Right. Everyone wanted power. But this wolf, with his bitter eyes and snarling arrogance, he wasn’t going to control this land.

Gabe wasn’t going to sit back and let any animal take control. Not anymore. Those days were over. There’d be no more truces. No more deals.

Only death.

But he smiled because he knew how to play the game. He’d made the damn game. “You want me to kill Drake Wyler.”

A quick nod. “That’s what you’re planning anyway, right? Kill him…and we–we can have the same arrangement that you had with Jeremiah.” The wolf glanced over his shoulder. What? Was he afraid the rest of his pack would find out that he was a traitor?

You should be afraid.

“The same arrangement I had with Jeremiah.” How the hell did the wolf know about that deal? Gabe cocked his head to the side and studied the wolf with faint interest. “So you want to kill the humans, too? Want to slice them up and hear them scream until their voices break?”

Ah, now that was surprise on the shifter’s face. Gabe almost smiled.

“He–he did–” A quick swallow and the shifter shook his head. “No, no, I just want control of the pack. The shifters will leave your men alone, I’ll make them stay away. You can hunt, you can kill…and I won’t do a damn thing to stop you.”

The whelp was annoying. “Cause you’ll control the wolves…”

“Damn right.” The shifter threw back his shoulders and stalked forward. Did he realize how close he was to death? The arrogant ones never seemed to understand, not until it was too late. “I’ll keep ‘em away. I’ll be alpha–I’ll be able to do anything and everything that I want.”

Provided Drake was dead.

“Do we have a deal?” The werewolf demanded.

Gabe stared back at him. “What’s your name?”

“Michael. Michael Flint.”

The name meant nothing and that very fact said he was staring at a werewolf no one gave a shit about. “Michael, you’re turning on your alpha so quickly.”