Bleed Me or Love Me, Either Way I Die (Raivh and Rogue)

[Raivh]

Continued...

The sound of metal scraping against cement was a horrid one, and one that seemed to last forever. Matthew had smelled the smoke before he’d seen it, and by that time, it was too late. The vehicle went up in flames, lighting up like a torch. Panic spread over his features like the fire did the car, and he could already feel it burning him alive, melting away his flesh, charring him. It wasn’t the first time he’d been in a fire, but for a moment, forgetting his strength at the worst possible time, he felt it would be his last. He could hear her echoing in his mind.

“Shit! Fuck, just open!” he bellowed, finally remembering that he could shred through the obstacle in his way. She was out there, right out there. Near the fire. His rage soared, and he slapped out the fire before it could get any deeper into his system. Had he been human, he would have burned alive, and he would have gone up in flames faster as he was now, had he not escaped. Lifting his green eyes from the pavement as she approached, he glared over at her. It wasn’t a matter of whether or not she was worried about his wellbeing at the moment, it was the fact that she was advancing on a burning vehicle, endangering herself. His nostrils flared out, and he licked his lips.

Grabbing her by the wrist when she reached him, he tugged her quickly out of sight, away from the staring audience, and away from the inferno. “What the hell were you doing? Walking towards a fire. Are you insane?” he bellowed, gnashing his teeth in her face. There were burns clean up his arms, chest, and several on his face as well. He kept one eye closed, opening it only on occasion, but it was painful when he did. “There wasn’t anything you could have done if I’d have gone up in flames!” Jaw clenched tightly, he averted his gaze from her for just a split second before returning her his focus.

“Now we have a bigger problem, one involving the sun. It’s going to come up, Sam, and when it does, we’re both going to lose our lives,” he spat at her, still fuming. That was the stupidest, most woman-like reaction he’d ever seen her give, one that made him almost believe she wouldn’t have been able to help herself. A team of medical staff rushed to surround him, asking him questions, a gurney not far off. Matthew roared, sending them on their way, and they went quickly, having experienced a sense of control unfathomable. Huffing, he set his jaw, the muscles along his throat rolling as he swallowed, and then he pushed past her. “You and your fucking cars…”

----

Zeb was after her in a flash, kicking up pine needles and dirt from the forest floor. He was enjoying being able to run so freely on such soft ground. To be able to hunt for meat was a rarity for him, as the most hunting he got was done in the grocery store. And maybe he was slipping up a bit, but he hadn’t expected her to catch a deer so quickly. She hadn’t really given him much in way of warning, and by the time he had moved, the animal was already dead. A large grin spread over his features, and he let out a huff. She was acting a blatant showoff, but a kill was a kill.

“Good job.” The words came as a surprise to him, and he realized then that he had shifted back into his human form, having relaxed enough around her to do so. Even as he stood, human, the smell of newly spilt blood evoked a growl to roll through his stomach. Shifting, he approached her, and eyed her with his piercing amber eyes. “It’s your kill. So, you choose. Do we haul it back, or partake of it here like our ancestors would have?”

His chest rose and fell, slowing with each breath he pulled in. It had been far too long since he’d been able to really stretch out his legs, get the adrenaline pumping. Stepping forward, he admired her kill with his eyes. “Nice sized buck. Too bad you didn’t warn me sooner. I would have stolen it right from under your nose, before you would have even had a chance to clamp down on its throat.” Smirking, a flicker of alpha arrogance in his eyes, he shook it off, and frowned. He was being rude, and custom was, no matter the rank, the wolf that made the kill got the first choice of meat.

 

[Raivh]

His mind wasn’t even on whether or not she’d been worried about him, whether she loved him or hated him. Hell, the moment he’d been trapped inside a flaming ball of metal and rubber, Matthew had only cared about survival, his survival. Until she’d come rushing toward him, and then something else had struck a chord in his already temperamental self. Images of Samantha being consumed by flames, as Reifer would have loved to do back in New York, had nearly reset Matthew’s long gone heartbeat. Now, his heart was hard, and his fury was greater than the hot blaze behind them. A low growl tore from his throat when she cut in front of him, glowering at him with those damn blue eyes of hers and that pretty face. She was the first and the last person he wanted to see right then, but he wasn’t in a mood to tolerate her attitude and her remarks.

His eyes glazed over, blurring her form from his vision as her shouts entered his ears, resonated in his mind, and then were dispelled as anger swept in to fuel what already existed. Too caught up in his rage, in his lack of rational thought, he hadn’t even attempted to tap into her mind, to find out if she was saying things she didn’t want to out loud. His teeth were clamped tightly shut, and he ground them together as he watched her saunter away. One word filtered past his resounding fury; sunlight. Stepping after her, it wasn’t but a few seconds before his long stride allowed him to catch up with her. His nostrils flared as he expelled a hot breath of air, whipping in front of her and staring down his nose into her blue eyes. Reaching out quickly to snatch up her wrist and drag her along, he jerked to a halt, his fingertips just barely brushing against the skin of her wrist. There was a distance in her eyes, a sort of sad, lackluster look to the as of late bright blue orbs.

He fought himself not to speak, and a muscle in his jaw twitched in protest. Exhaling, he dropped his gaze and he let the tips of his fingers trail lower, and took her soft hand in his. Without a word, as she’d requested, he turned and slowly led her up the road. After a few paces, he tightened his grasp on her hand and kicked into an impossibly fast, loping run that had them in front of Lola’s house in the woods in no time. When they reached the front steps, he let go of her hand and turned around. Watching her with a very different feeling toward the woman, his woman, he tilted his head. He looked her up and down, and when his eyes settled on her face, he lifted a hand and caressed her cheek.

“No more racing, Sam. For either of us,” he said gruffly and captured her face with both hands. The calloused pads of his thumbs brushed over her cheekbones, just below her blue eyes. Leaning down, he was a breath away from her lips when he tensed, and changed course, pressing a tender kiss to her slender brow. “It’s dangerous.” Speaking against her skin, he stared at the wisps of golden hair atop her head, and then stepped back. He didn’t say another word as he disappeared inside the house. Wandering around, he checked over the blinds, only to find each and every one still closed. His body was still tense, rigid. He glanced to the couch, and then to the door, curious about when Lola and Zeb would be returning to the house.

------

As casually as he could manage without staring, Zeb scanned Lola’s sleek form. He admired her slender figure, the feminine tone of her muscles, and not once was he put off by the scars that marred her beautiful flesh. To him, he was just that; beautiful, a piece of art sculpted for his enjoyment. Her words barely entered his mind because it was already resonating with the resounding sound of his own voice, and the one word on his subconscious. Mine. Taking a deep breath, he could hear the playful note in her voice, and a grin spread over his lips. He was feeling more than devious, more than willing to keep bantering with her in such a manner; keep challenging her and be challenged by her.

Watching her step back, he broadened his grin, stretching his mouth as far as it would go. “Thank you.” His eyes stayed hers as he shifted and stepped forward. Powerful jaws tore at the hide of the buck, peeling it away and spitting it on the ground, so he could get to the succulent, warm, bleeding meat. Each swallow replenished an ounce or two of energy lost, and when he’d had his fill, he rose to his feet and turned his head in the direction of the sun, blocked by the deciduous canopy. He could smell Matthew and Sam close by, and knew they were safely inside Lola’s cabin.

Should we go back? he inquired mentally in a deep, rough tone. He wasn’t particularly inclined either way. Going back to the house meant putting a stopper in whatever was developing between them. Turning his head to face her, he couldn’t resist permitting his eyes to rove over her once more. When his glance met hers again, he stared deep into both of her green eyes, even the one clouded over with blindness. Or should we find your pack and make sure they’re not into mischief? There was no intent of averting his gaze, no sense of submission to the alpha of this territory.

 

[Raivh]

Sinking down onto the couch and reaching for the remote, Matthew’s eyes trailed Samantha down the hall. Absently he pressed power on the television remote, and the screen came flickering to life. His stare remained glued to the door of the guest bedroom. A few moments later, he heard the shower start up. The pipes groaned and creaked. Samantha seemed distant, out of sorts, more so than she had when they’d fought before; and they’d had many, many nasty fights. Letting out a long sigh, he settled against the back of the couch, and turned his head to watch the news broadcast. It was supposed to rain the rest of the week, including severe thunderstorms and potential hail. Several long moments passed in silence, his thoughts constantly drifting back to Sam, though he tried to force them elsewhere.

She was mad or sad—something—but all he could do was feed her anger, her frustration; at least that’s what he thought was the only thing he was capable of. Loving her was impossible; he hated her, just as he always had. Another sigh heaved in his chest, and he licked his lips, turning off the television. Did he still hate her? Visions of her blue eyes and her bright, coy smile flashed through his mind. A snarl rumbled in his chest and he clamped his teeth together. Memories of the other day when he’d climbed into bed with her and held her close shot to the front of his mind. Tension radiated through his limbs, but his jaw relaxed a fraction of an inch, relieving some of the ache in it. Opening his eyes, unsure of when they’d closed, he glanced toward the guest room, and the sound of running water reached him yet again. No, she was fine; she was just going through a snit. Pushing off the couch as he inhaled, he straightened out his back.

“Sam,” he growled, stepping into the bathroom. With an easy swipe of his hand, he pulled the curtain aside. His eyes roamed her body, drinking her in, and a wave of lust crashed over him. He wasn’t bothered by her scars, didn’t find them repulsive. Samantha was a very attractive woman, and his mate. Before he could retract his hand, he was reaching in and gently taking hold of the hand to her injured arm. With great care, he stroked the scarred tissue, noticing that it was fading away, recessing, and being replaced by good, clean, porcelain flesh. His eyes were locked with hers, staring into the blue depths, before they dropped to the mark on her neck, the nastiest scar of all, and the one she’d received from his torment.

Stepping back, eyes still focused on her slender neck, he peeled his shirt off over his head, exposing a strong, bare chest. What you did today was stupid, running toward a flaming car. You could have died. His lips twitched into a snarl that disappeared as quickly as it appeared, and by the time it was gone, his pants were piled atop his shirt. Gaze unmoving from hers, he stepped toward the shower again, lifted one leg over the tub, then the other, and came to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms about her waist, securing her against his chest and stomach. Why did you risk yourself for me? You hate me, don’t you, like I hate you? His arms tightened around her and he pressed a kiss to the hollow behind her ear. You don’t love me. You’re still in love with Dominic, and you’re mad because I took him away from you.

------

He knew the vampires were more than capable of handling themselves, but that hadn’t been his point. In fact, he didn’t know what his point had even been. Nodding, he glanced once more in the direction of the cabin, and then back to her. His eyes flitted over her slowly, taking in her figure less subtly than he had before. She had the perfect body for bearing pups, strong, healthy pups at that. But Zeb was aware that a woman’s looks didn’t always mean she was capable of having children. His own mate hadn’t been able to conceive—she’d been barren—but he’d loved her all the same. Realizing he’d been staring several minutes longer than necessary, he shook his head and met her green eyes.

“I think we should wash this blood off,” he stated, brushing past her and wandering toward the steadily flowing, crisp, clear water of the stream. Her scent flooded his senses, making his mouth water almost as much as the smell of fresh blood had, but this type of hunger was much different. He wondered how long Matthew and Samantha intended to stay with Lola. Part of him hoped it was a while, but another part of him required it was short. A strong female was difficult to come by, and a strong female in heat would be the last push to render him insane. And he had no doubt he would be fighting tooth and nail against the members of Lola’s pack for first prize; her.

Glancing over his shoulder to see if she was following, he waded waist deep in the water. “Who is the strongest of the three men in your pack?” he asked nonchalantly, already instinctively sizing up his rivals. Bending, he splashed water into his face, clearing away the crimson stain of blood. He took several sips of the clear liquid before crossing to the opposite bank that had led them into the water. “Have you had any recent dominance challenges?” Growling low in his throat, a deep bass that most couldn’t hear, he chuckled, doubting that any of the males he’d met earlier could steal away this woman’s affections. Then again, he didn’t have much chance either. Being an outsider meant he was just that, a nobody in their world, even if he was an alpha. Real wolves wouldn’t have allowed him onto their territory, not without a fight, and he would have had to claim rights to dominance in her pack.

 

[Raivh]

The patter of water against the shower floor seemed excessively loud in the silence of the small room, the door to the bedroom open wide. No one would enter the guest room. No one else was in the house. But if someone happened along and saw Samantha as she was, naked and comfortable in his embrace, Matthew would slaughter them. The other day he’d wanted to kill Zeb for his smart remark when he found them in bed together. He despised other men ogling his woman, his mate. His eyes remained fixated on one spot on the tile wall, staring at it with great intent as Sam’s thoughts, her feelings, entered his mind. What she said wasn’t anything he’d ever hard before, neither in his mortal life of his life as an immortal bloodsucker. He could feel her cold fingers between his, the smooth texture of her skin—and something else. His eyebrows knitted together in a tight V, and he felt compelled to kiss her. Through everything that she said, he gathered she no longer loathed him, was bitter no more, but enjoyed his presence, no matter how poor his company was from time to time.

Shifting his weight, her voice suddenly entered the atmosphere, breaking the silence, and he loosened his hold despite what she requested. He shut down his mind, not allowing any of her thoughts in or any of his thoughts out. His fingertips scraped slowly and gently over the damp, silky flesh of her belly. “No.” And then his hands slid to her hips. The way his gut churned wasn’t something he was accustomed to, and his inability to meet her eyes did more than frustrate him. A low growl parted his lips, and he bared his teeth in irritation as he stepped around her, letting his hands slide away from her body. Slapping the water off, he stepped out of the shower, dripping wet, and gathered his clothes. What his mind was beginning to register wasn’t what he had intended to happen; he hadn’t intended to develop any sort of emotional tie to her.

Chest rising and falling with heavy, aggravated breaths, he wheeled back around and stalked toward her. Grabbing her chin, he jerked it fiercely up to face him, eyes boring into hers. “I’m leaving tomorrow, and you’re not coming with me.” Space. He needed to put distance between himself and Samantha. His mind raced over every encounter he’d had with her, from fights—verbal and violent—to gentle touches, kisses, caresses, and the two nights he’d slid into her body. A piercing pain struck him hard in the back of the skull, causing colors to flash before his eyes and a wild snarl to tear past his lips. Gnashing his teeth at her, a hand around her neck in a crushing grip, he whirled around pinned her sleek figure to the frame of the door. His eyes were blood red, full of lust, hunger—confusion. The tendon in his thick neck throbbed, and his jaw flexed. His demented stare swept over her once more before his eyes locked with hers.

It was the persistent tug at the back of his mind that forced him to relax his grasp on her throat, and he took a step back. He needed to hunt again, needed to get away from her. “You’re like poison,” he growled, unable to distract himself long enough to move further away. Again, like a hungry dog, he devoured her with his eyes. “A lethal drug. Something that can kill, but only if I take you. From this point on, I don’t want you. I don’t want anything to do with you.” Long strides carried him to the bedroom door, which he opened and slammed behind him, leaving her to herself as he went flying toward the front door. Placing his hand on the doorknob, he almost turned it before his senses returned to him, and he back away.

………

A wolfish snort exploded from Zeb’s nostrils when she told him the names of the males that would likely be his competition. He couldn’t help but wonder how long it had been since she’d gone into heat, or how long he would have to learn how to take each male down without much of a fight. The less bloody the better; her pack was small, and he didn’t particularly want to kill any of them. Give it time. Control wasn’t something he lacked entirely, despite how strong the pull of the wolf constantly pacing inside him could be sometimes. Dampening his lips, he cocked his head to one side when she turned onto her back, and when she questioned him, a devious smile turning up the corners of her lips, he arched his eyebrows.

For a moment or two he just stared at her, pondering whether her questions were sincere. Water rippled around his strong, lean thighs as he walked toward her. His form was massive, and the closer he got to her, the more he pushed his shoulders back, broadening his chest. When he reached her where she was on the bank, he squatted down beside her. Boldly, he pressed his palm against the side of her neck, stretching his thumb out so that the side of it brushed over her cheek, just under her cloudy, blind eye. The expression painted over his features was weighted, serious. Turning his head as his hand began to move, gliding over her shoulder, the crease between her arm and breast, and over her side to her stomach, he paused. He inhaled and slid his hand just below her navel, littlest finger resting against the slight curve of her belly.

His eyes returned to hers, and he grinned. “If you’re going to show your belly off to me now, maybe I don’t need to worry about challenging your pack for any sort of rights.” Giving her stomach a light pat, he rose to his feet. A shuffle in the trees alerted him to someone’s presence, and then he heard voices. The scent he caught on the wind wasn't Lupine, it was human. “You allow hunters on your land?” Furrowing his brow, he scanned the trees.

 

[Raivh]

The tranquility that he felt when he was around her, that sense of warmth and belonging—trust—Matthew hadn’t felt it for a long time, not since Alicia had been assassinated by the very woman he’d just left in the other room, telling her he was leaving her. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth tighter and tighter, adding pressure as if aiming to break his own bones. His stare was glued to the front door, unable to tear it away. Water still ran down his body, falling gently to the floor in small droplets and dampening the carpet. He could still feel the soft press of her body against his, forced there while he held her by the throat. There had been something different in her eyes this time, a sort of paranoia, fear. Fear of what? His mind flashed back to those blue eyes of hers staring up at him, and he pinned down the shadow he’d seen. It was her fear of rejection, her fear that he’d been serious about taking off without her. He was. Still was.

Growling, he hit the door with a very restricted punch. That woman had damned him, and in turn he’d damned her. Why did she want him? Why did he want her? Closing his eyes, he swallowed and his jaw flexed, nostrils flared as he pressed his forehead to the door. Loving her was impossible. It was improbable. He would rather see her go up in flames and turn to ash before he would love her. Teeth grinding over one another, he shoved away from the door with unnecessary force. His long stride carried him swiftly down the hall, and he stopped when he reached the door to the guest room where he’d left her. The door flew open with a sharp twist of his wrist. When the wooden obstruction was out of his way, Matthew’s gaze homed in on the saline tears staining Sam’s cheeks. Reflex sent him a step backward, before he passed over the threshold and into the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.

Scanning over her, his eyes settled on the charred skin along her fingers. Immediately, he felt his anger flare again. They weren’t anything serious, nothing that would kill her. Slow, almost elegant strides carried his massive figure over to where she sat. He stared down at her, chastising her for her reckless actions with a look, and then leaned down. Hands on either side of her, pressing into the mattress, he brought his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “If you hurt yourself again, I’m going to lock you in a dark closet when the sun’s out.” His voice was gruff, and he threw a glance toward the closet door. Exhaling, his eyes met hers, calm, but still irritated. In the silence of the room, the dissention between them was evident, looming overhead like a dark cloud, lightning waiting to strike one of them a fatal blow.

“You’re mine, Sam.” It was all he could give her, the best he could offer as he brushed his nose along her hairline, breathing in the clean, damp fragrance that was reserved for his pleasure alone. Stroking his hands down her arms, he caught her by the upper arms as they slid back up, and pulled her to her feet, against him. His lips parted on a breath, opening to display two daunting fangs, the very same he’d used to kill so many. With careful precision, he let them penetrate deep into her flesh, into the marks he’d inflicted the day he’d injected his venom into her, as his arms tightened around her. He drew no blood from her body into his, not drinking, but feeling for any minute emotion in her. Large hands smoothed over her back, the curve of her rear, her shoulders and arms, felt the wet, silky length of her blonde hair. When he retracted his mouth from her throat, a bit of blood on his lips, he kissed her. He could feel her pain, taste her sorrow.

Lifting her, he was moving toward the closet before she could do anything to protest. In the dark of the small, confined space, cramped together, he shifted her around and sank down to the ground, straddling her between his legs, the broad expanse of his chest to her back. His eyes were quick to adjust, and he pressed his lips to the mark he’d reopened to deepen the bond, calm his behavior and ease her hurting soul. “You’re mine,” he reiterated. The complete lack of sunlight would help the burn on her hand heal more quickly. Not to mention he didn’t want her anywhere within a five foot radius of those blinds. Running his hands along her arms, he curled one arm around her waist, the other across her torso from ribs to opposite shoulder.

…….

The minute her answer was out of her mouth, Zeb was flying after her. Muscles in his legs rippled with the force that he threw himself into a run, shifting mid-stride. This wasn’t his pack, but Lola was allowing him permission to roam her territory, to run alongside her. As an alpha male, it should have been his place to stick his neck out further than hers, to be the first one to suffer any sort of unexpected injury, to protect the pack. Watching her flank, his heart rate accelerated, as did his speed, and he nudged her with his shoulder on the way past, kicking up dirt, leaves, and sticks as he propelled his body at breakneck. A flash in the corner of his eye alerted him to the presence of another lycan, another member of her pack. One of the males. Arkady by the look of him; he was large, but not as well built as Zeb, not an alpha, but a warrior type nonetheless. Following quickly were the other four: Luar, Donovan, Marble, and Cadence.

A gunshot went off, and Zeb heard the bullet go whizzing past his head. Ears lying flat against his massive skull, he heard a second shot fired. This one grazed his shoulder. They were aiming for the dominant male, the one they assumed was the leader of Lola’s pack. Inwardly, Zeb grinned; outwardly, he snarled in fury. The growl tore past his lips and into the air, rumbling alongside the thunder. Glancing up, Zeb watched as a cloud swallowed up the last bit of sunlight that reached through the trees. He whipped his head in the direction of Lola, and when he heard a third gunshot, he lunged. His shoulder impacted with hers, sending them both to the ground, and he pinned her. The rest of her pack slowed to a halt, pacing back and forth on four limbs, some on two. There was a great bit of unease in each member as Zeb lowered his maw toward Lola’s bearing his teeth at her. His eyes were trained on hers.

Take your pack and go east. They’re not aiming for any of you just yet. They’re firing at me.” Blood oozed from the wound on his shoulder, staining his fur. He snapped his teeth at her with a loud clack as his powerful jowls clamped down. It was a challenge for dominance if ever there was one, a challenge to give orders and be in command, if only for the next twenty minutes so he could find that hunter. Another bullet zipped through the air, and Zeb ducked, pressing his masculine Lupine form to hers. The whites of his eyes were visible, and spit flew as he opened his muzzle in another growl, jerking his head in the direction of the gunfire. Shoving himself to his feet, he tore off, leaving her with his order.

Huffing, his keen eyes scanned the area. He could hear the rustling of feet, leaves crunching under someone’s weight. When a bullet penetrated his leg, he let out a howl of pain and anger. Adrenaline rushed through him, and he thrust himself forward, toward the sound. There was a loud shout, another shot fired, before Zeb sank his teeth into the throat of a rather skilled hunter. The man was equipped to kill, and the scent of death permeated his clothing, the tails and teeth of lycanthropes from other packs with him. But where there was one hunter, there was always a second.

 

[Raivh]

Holding her cradled against him, Matthew didn’t move an inch, though his jaw tensed when she spoke. He didn’t breathe, didn’t speak, just listened to her beg him to stay with her, listened to her state that she would do anything for him to not leave her. Not once had he broken this woman to the state she was in now. The collar he’d placed around her neck when he’d first turned her had done nothing to take away her dignity, her pride, that challenge that he’d seen in her eyes so many times. But telling her that he was leaving; that was enough to drive her to plead with him, submit to do anything he willed her to do. Feeling her nails digging gently in one arm, her body subtly quaking against him, Matthew swallowed. At one point, he’d said he would change for her, be what she wanted him to be. This wasn’t the Samantha that had threatened to riddle his body with silver, light him on fire, and watch him resort to ash. This Sam was a mess of unhinged nerves and desperation.

His embrace tightened as she pressed back and turned her head. Her blonde hair brushed against his chin and jawline, and he took a deep breath. The salty fragrance of tears was in the air once more, and when he let his eyes fall to her face, he could see them running down her cheeks. Watching her swipe a hand over her face, feeling her clinging to him, disregarding her statement that she wouldn’t touch him, Matthew relaxed his hold. “Samantha.” His voice rumbled as her name rolled off his tongue, a most natural sound to his ears. He wasn’t going anywhere, not while Reifer was still around and the potential that he would kill Sam was still high. She was his mate, and Matthew had no intention of handing over rights to her to anyone. Swallowing, his arms slipped from around her, and he gathered both of her hands in his.

“Tell me,” he murmured, so keyed in on her mind and soul that he could sense the words flowing through her system, begging to be released. Burying his face in the side of her neck, he kissed her skin, behind her ear, the corner of her jaw. One hand came up and caught the side of her cheek, caressing it as he brought his lips to hers. Deep and possessive, he kissed her as the one person he cherished most, more than any woman he’d had in life; more than he’d cherished Alicia in death. Parting from her lips, he coiled his arms tightly about her waist and shifted, rising to his feet and bringing her up with him. He turned her around to face him, requiring the press of her body against his, and the feel of her mouth welded to his once more. In the dark, he held her close.

…..

Faltering as he rose to his feet, the pain shooting up and down his leg, Zeb turned his large black nose up to the canopy and sniffed. There was blood on the air, not his own. Someone else’s. His body tensed, mind rushing back toward Lola’s pack. A second later, he was hurtling in the direction of the scent, ignoring the sharp pangs that rocked through his body each time his foot slammed into the ground, causing his muscles to push the bullet deeper into the sinewy fibers. When he reached her pack, his eyes scanned each and every member’s respective face. His stare fell to Arkady, and something in Zeb began to unravel. Standing there, stock-still, he watched the male drag his fingers through her hair. Zeb’s chest heaved with each labored breath he took in, the amount of blood he’d lost a decent amount, but the clouds in his eyes cleared away when a menacing growl ripped through the air.

Momentarily forgetting about the smell of blood, and not yet registering the sweet scent of the alpha female in heat, Zeb lurched forward. His massive body slammed into Arkady’s, sending the male tumbling a few feet before he righted himself. MINE! The single, possessive word was roared into Arkady’s mind, Zeb’s voice full of alpha dominance. Hovering over Lola, hackles raised, teeth bared, Zeb snarled at his opposition. Arkady returned the favor, flashing a set of fangs as he shifted into his Lupine form and flung himself toward Zeb. Bracing himself for impact, Zeb intercepted the male when contact was made, and the two wrestled on the ground, a flurry of fur and teeth and blood. The pain in Zeb’s leg was immense, his instinct to fight for a female greater.

In a matter of minutes, he had Arkady pinned, powerful jaws locked in his scruff, hackles raised. The male yelped as Zeb sank his teeth deeper, growling into the wound. SHE’S MINE! Arkady snarled, and Zeb released his hold, flipping him over and going for his jugular. Just the movement was enough to create quite a commotion amongst the rest of the pack, and Arkady froze, a terrified, belly-up pup. With a snort, Zeb snapped his maw shut, and stepped away, leaving the other four to help Arkady to his feet. Limping over to where Lola was, he nudged her cheek with his nose. Then he tensed, sucking in a deep breath of the pheromones pouring off her body. Shifting so his senses weren’t quite as acute, the aroma was still enticing, but lessened.

“Get her back to the house,” Zeb stated in a gruff voice, shooting her pack a glance. His stare was domineering, challenging any of them to defy his order. Carrying her by himself with an injured leg was impossible. Donovon approached, ears laid flat against his head, and Zeb rose to his feet, still standing protectively, possessively in front of her. Memories of his deceased mate flooded his mind, and the last thing he wanted was to have this woman fade away because she’d been shot with silver. Or at least what he assumed was silver. The bullet in his own wound was certainly the lethal metal. Stepping aside, eyes locked with Lola’s, Zeb allowed Donovon by to pick Lola up. Then he turned, and strode over to where the dead man lay, still bleeding, but the warmth leaving his body.

Searching the corpse for a knife, he found one, and cursed because the blade was silver as well. He needed something to dig out the bullet in his leg. “I said take her to the house!” he bellowed when no one moved. Several low whines sounded, and Zeb gnashed his teeth, turning and stalking toward them. He avoided Lola’s eyes, instead looking into the face of each member of her pack. Arkady avoided Zeb’s stare, turning his head the other way. Black lips curled back, and he growled.

 

[Raivh]

For a vampire that had lived years of his immortal life drowning in bitterness and honing his hatred of others, Matthew’s regularly cold eyes held a warm glimmer of affection for the woman in his arms. His eyes skated over her slender features, admiring her as she wound her arms around his neck and held tight. Giving her peace of mind for once, he allowed her to think, to make a decision that wasn’t based off of anything he forced her into. Although he was not a refined man, rough around the edges as he was, he was intuitive, and he knew that Samantha had come to terms with something she hadn’t yet shared with him. Pressing his forehead to hers, he bestowed her lips with a few soft kisses. When he felt the first tremble of words spoken against his lips, he pulled his head back, watching panic overtake her usually composed, beautiful countenance.

His arms tightened in sync with hers, dragging her closer to him until there wasn’t as much as a sliver of air keeping their bodies apart. The pressure of her nails didn’t bother him as they bit into his skin, penetrating, but not enough to draw blood. When her lashes lifted and revealed her sapphire eyes, Matthew stared back. The very instant the metallic hint of blood hit the air, his glance shifted to the closet door. Listening carefully as the silence surrounded them, he could hear the hurried shuffle of feet inside the house, insinuating that someone had returned. Sam was tense in his arms, and his body was rigid against hers, deep breaths in and out of his flared nostrils gradually coming in quicker intervals. By the time she spoke his name, a breathless whisper, his chest was heaving.

……

Losing one woman on his watch was bad enough, losing a second would be his end. Zeb watched from where he stood, just a few feet away from the pack and Lola. It was obvious that, for the moment, his reign of dominance over her pack was over. When she gave the order, they obeyed, and he closed his eyes, huffing out a breath as leaves crunched beneath their feet. Remaining in his Lupine state, he followed along behind them, the silver already entering his system.

Inside the cabin, Zeb returned to his human form and sank down into one large chair to rest. His leg was throbbing, the twinges of pain becoming worse with each passing minute nearing an hour. Eyelids at half-mast, his chest rising and falling with labored breaths; he turned his head to face Lola. Her pack was efficient enough treating the wound. Since the bullet had already been extracted, she had nothing to worry about but maybe a fever for a day or so. Swallowing, Zeb choked on a lump in his throat, the results of inner swelling and shut down from his body’s reaction to the silver. With a strained grunt, he leaned forward in the chair, shifting his body and digging at the bullet hole in his leg.

“Stop,” Cadence said, approaching Zeb when he winced. Zeb opened his eyes, sweat dotting his brow, and stared up at the other male. “Move your hand.” Covering his face as his expression twisted in agony, Zeb permitted Cadence’s help. Once the bullet was out, Zeb released a pent up breath and a word of thanks. With a curt nod, Cadence moved off to join the others. A few words were exchanged, and they were prepared to leave before Matthew came barreling out of the room. Zeb sat up quickly, his eyes wide and alert; the pain in his leg a dull memory in that instant. He recognized that look in his friend’s eye. Shifting, he rose to his feet and stationed himself between the male vampire and the female lycanthrope lying on the couch. The fact that his own blood might attract attention didn’t faze him.

“Matthew,” Zeb said slowly. “Stay where you are.” This woman is mine.

Jaw taut, Matthew jerked his head from side to side. A low growl thrummed in his chest, and he hissed somewhere deep in his throat. He wasn’t in his right mind, and when he lunged, the sunlight streaming in from the open door hit him, charring his flesh. He roared in pain, and Zeb shouted for the door to be closed, even as Matthew closed the distance between them. The moment his fangs sank into Zeb’s flesh, the alpha howled and jerked back. Matthew released his bite almost immediately and collapsed on the ground, gagging on the poison that burned his tongue and down his throat.

“You idiot! Couldn’t you smell the silver?” Zeb yelled. “Sam!” Rolling to his stomach, Matthew pushed himself up on all fours and vomited blood.

 

[Raivh]

The pain of the silver running its course down his throat and into his stomach was excruciating, throwing it up only doubled the pain because it seared his tissue twice. Partially aware of his surroundings while he retched, he heard Zeb call for Sam, and when she entered the room and her scent hit him, he calmed some. Dying a second time didn’t seem so bad when she was around, but the idea that he’d lose eternity with her sent him into frenzy. His eyes blurred, the craving for blood intensified, and he audibly snapped his jaws shut when he was rolled onto his back and she slid her hand over his forehead. For half a second before his thirst began to consume him, he wondered what she thought the first dumbest thing he’d ever done was, recalling many instances.

Convulsing when Luar’s wrist was opened and the thick crimson liquid began spilling from the wound, he would have latched on and clamped down, sucked her dry, had it not been for the pressure of Samantha’s knee against his chest. The metallic tint in the air was maddening, and he homed in on each drop as it fell. A low, rumbling growl reverberated in his stomach and crawled through his chest, escaping out his mouth as his fangs grew. It took several long minutes and much struggling on his part before he regained his senses and snapped his jaw shut. Averting his eyes from the source of blood, he focused on Samantha’s pale face and trembling figure.

He sneered, frowned, and jerked away from the two men pinning him down. They would go out and feed tonight before another incident like that happened. “Are you feeling better now, moron?” Zeb asked, but Matthew wasn’t focused on the male standing a few feet away. Zeb’s head turned and eyes on Lola, a crooked, half-smile on his face. Lunging for Sam, Matthew scooped her up into his arms and held her tight to his chest. He exited the room, vanishing down the hall to the guest bedroom. Once the vampires had disappeared, Zeb settled his attention on Lola’s pack.

“I’ll care for her now. You’re dismissed.” When no one moved, he growled, the sound low, deep, and menacing as it spilled past his lips. OUT. The mental, one-word command seemed to register. Lola’s pack cleared the room, drawing the door closed behind them. As the silence settled in the air, he turned and glanced down at Lola, studying her face carefully. “You’re in heat.” He could smell the potent pheromones, practically drowned in them. Adjusting the black robe, he couldn’t suppress the satisfied grin that slithered across his features. “Did I do that?”

With a low laugh, he pulled the chair he’d been sitting in nearer to where Lola lay resting on the couch, and sank down into it with a groan. Whether the silver bullet was out of his system or not, he could still feel its effects, as well as the hole in his leg. But pain was temporary. “It’s a good thing we ate before getting shot. I imagine we’ll both be in for a day or two at least.”

…….

“You should have held on tighter, Sam.” Matthew lay her down on the bed and went to find the pair of jeans he’d discarded before jumping into her shower earlier. When he returned to the room, he was doing up the zipper, and by the time he reached her, crawling onto the bed and pinning her, they were secured around his waist. “Look at you. You’re a mess.” Pressing his palm to her cheek, his free arm slid behind her back. He could tell she’d been shaken up when she’d come rushing to him only minutes ago. Licking his lips, he knew it was his fault that she was in her present state. Later that night, he would take her out to feed. For now, they had to wait.

Searching her eyes, his expression grew hard, recalling what she’d revealed to him before the incident. Eyelids at half-mast, he lowered his face toward hers until he could brush the tip of his nose against hers. “We should be on the move again by the end of this week,” he said, knowing she would recall Reifer’s pursuit of them, his intent to kill Sam. Matthew wouldn’t let that happen. Only he could end her life. Closing one hand gently around her neck, he stroked the scar there with his thumb as he’d done many times. “What can I give you, Samantha?” He didn’t know what she wanted in exchange for her love. Both of his strong hands framed her face, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Only just beginning to understand her need for affection, he shifted and rolled onto his side, effectively parting his lips from hers.

 

[Raivh]

Something about Samantha, from the moment they’d first began their tango of violence, then of lust—both even—was always able to draw some kind of humanity from Matthew. His breath caressed her lips as she pressed close, her soft body molding to the hard contours of his. She didn’t ask much; each request was something he’d already granted her, given her, would continue to give her because it was something she craved. All of it she could have, but not now, not when he could sense the hunger stirring within her, driven closer to the edge by the looming scent of Lola’s blood in the other room. Only partially satiated, he still thirsted, and he knew hers would soon be driving her mad with the need to feed. If she latched on in the heat of combined passion, it would take a lot to shake her loose, and he didn’t want to damage her any more than he already had.

Slowly he pulled back from her kiss, offering her a few more teasing caresses of his lips before he shifted, rising, and situated himself behind her. He fastened an arm around her waist, drawing her against his strong, broad chest. Breathing deep, drinking her in, he buried his nose in her blonde hair and then tucked her head beneath his chin. “Sun’s up. I can’t go anywhere yet, Sam.” Out all night and up all day wasn’t any way to keep their bodies in prime, functioning condition. Contrary to fictional literature, vampires required rest to keep some sort of circulatory system flowing in compensation for lack of a heartbeat. Too little sleep, not enough blood; both were means to an end for Matthew’s kind. His chest expanded against her back as he shifted, drawing his free arm back in a bend to rest his head against it.

“When did wanting to pack my gut full of silver and set me on fire turn into love?” he asked, donning a vacant expression. Lifting his head, he peered down at her face. The faintest trace of a smile tweaked one corner of his lip before it fell away, and he brought his hand up from the pillow to pull her hair away, giving him a better view. Even covered in scars she was a beautiful young woman, and that wouldn’t change, no matter how many centuries he spent with her. What would change, or could change, for better or worse, was how she felt about him. As caught up in him as she was now, there was always the chance that another would strike her fancy, steal her from him. In the same respect, as he had time and time before taking Alicia as a mate, he could change partners as well.

Settling back down, hours passed from day to night, and when the moon was high, its gentle luminance beckoning from behind the blinded window in the room, Matthew roused Sam with a light nip on her ear. “Wake up. It’s time to feed.” He slid from bed with a grand bit of ease, his massive form elegant as he crossed to the door and pulled it open. A step out the door, he paused and glanced back at her. There was a frown most evident on his strong features, eyebrows pulled low over his green eyes. “You need to dress first. Then we’ll go.” If they were going out, she wasn’t exiting the cabin without being properly covered, though he had no qualms about going out bare-chested himself.

…….

“Mm.” Zeb grunted, nodding. He knew she had food in the house, had been allotted some when they’d arrived. Home-cooked meals weren’t something he was used to, not since Reifer had slaughtered his mate. The image of her dead, bloody, and broken body flashed in his mind, but the moment Lola’s voice entered his ears again, it dissipated. Her words caused the animal inside of him to stir while the man sat still, staring at her with probing eyes. His nostrils expanded, flared, and the first strong wave of female pheromones plunged into his system, corrupting him inside and out. Both civil and savage, he would manage to suppress his urge to have her. Besides, they were both injured, and he doubted she would take well to the idea of having such a fresh wound grasped in his strong hand. He didn’t want to hurt her, either. But her heat would grow stronger in the passing days, weeks; he’d known females to last three weeks before they were either mated or fell out of heat for a few months.

“Years, huh?” Despite his determination to sway his instinct away from the drive to take her his eyes swept over her, devoured her, branded her with a look. A creak split the silence as he shifted in the large chair. “I’m sure it’ll pass. Always does.” Closing his eyes and staving off her scent by only breathing through his mouth, he turned his head away from her. His body ached, limbs exhausted from running, jaw from biting, snapping and tearing into flesh. He didn’t wake until Matthew shook him awake.

“Hey, we’re going out to feed. Sun set.” His jaw was taut, still able to smell the blood on both lycanthropes, he glanced toward Lola. He wasn’t like them, but he could still smell the powerful pheromones pouring from her. Smirking, he tilted his head. “Smells like you’ve got a problem.”

 

[Raivh]

The look on Zeb’s face at Matthew’s statement turned the vampire’s lips into a devious smirk, aware that the male lycan was struggling with his instinct. Had it been him, Matthew wouldn’t have given a second thought to following through with what nature willed. Turning his head when he heard Sam’s footsteps, his thoughts about running with instinct vanished, leaving his thirst for blood in the dust. The fact that she was dressed as she was, though, triggered something deeper, something other than lust; a desire to cover what he believed was his. That woman was showing off more skin to than he wanted her to, but his tightly clenched jaw kept him from demanded she turn back around and find something else to wear. His eyes trailed her from the wall to the couch, never straying from her face.

Watching as the two women exchanged glances and words, Matthew turned to look at Zeb, who had a wicked smirk playing on his features, just as Matthew had seconds ago. He could hear the stupid mutt’s thoughts, and regardless of whether they were meant as a tease or not, he shut them out. In fact, he shut out everything; Sam, Lola, and Zeb, but he kept a strict eye on his mate. Zeb, on the other hand, kept his gaze fixated on Lola, and shifted forward in the chair when she swung her feet off the side of the couch. As she passed in front of him, he got a good, strong whiff of her, and decided to get up as well, regardless of how stiff his leg was. Once the vampires were out of the cabin, silence settled into the small space.

“You’re hungry already?” he inquired, grabbing a chair on his way into the kitchen. Setting the wooden chair down in the middle of the kitchen floor, he reached out and slid his fingers over the crook of her elbow, pulling her back at an easy pace until her shoulder brushed his chest. With a measured breath out and a slower one back in, he angled his face so he was had a more direct view of her profile. Slipping around to her front, eyes on hers, he let his gaze fall slowly to the tie on her robe. Careful hands worked to undo it, and once open, he slid the robe back from her shoulders. Nothing on her body was something he’d never seen on a woman before, nothing he hadn’t touched; she was just new.

The wound on her hip was bad but healing, already scabbing up. He brushed his fingertips just above it. “Sit down.” Taking a step toward her, he urged her back toward the seat, helped her down into it. Her scent was rich, intoxicating. Closing her robe back around her body, he left her to tie it and wandered over to the fridge. There had to be something he knew how to cook. The refrigerator door opened with a creak and he peered inside. When he found a pack of meat, hamburger, as he was accustomed to back in the city, where getting out to hunt was a rarity, he pulled it out and set it on the counter. Hamburgers were easy enough. He’d molded a few burgers before. On the grill several times, a skillet a few. Scrounging around in her kitchen, he managed to find what he needed and set to forming four thick burgers.

“Guess vampires aren’t the only ones wanting a night feeding,” Zeb said over his shoulder, slapping each burger down and turning up the heat. The fat from the meat sizzled and he breathed deep, finally able to smell something besides Lola. While the hamburger cooked, he walked back over to where she sat and squatted down in front of her. “Don’t suppose you have anything in this place I could put on? Pair of jeans and a shirt?”

…….

“What’s that look for?” Matthew asked as they walked, green eyes latched onto her affectionate, coy smile. His mind was still on the outfit she had on, not on the glimmer in her blue eyes or the hint of mischief about her person. Reaching out, he grabbed her by the elbow, rough yet gentle, and reeled her in. “Don’t let anyone touch you tonight. Because if you don’t kill them, I might.” His lips met her temple, and then he was off, tearing up the road. He stopped when he reached town, a small place without much going for it but the source of sustenance it possessed.

“Meet back here in fifteen.” Shooting Sam a glance, he vanished, off to terrorize the neighborhood. The prey he chose was young woman he found jogging on the streets. After that day, she would be seen no more. He wasn’t in a state where he could let his victim live, and so he drank, and drank, until she’d been drained dry. All the while Samantha’s request of him ran circles in his mind. He could give her what she wanted—affection. But love. Returning to the spot he’d departed from, the very same he’d told her to return to, Matthew glanced around, looking for Sam. Time away from the cabin so redolent with blood and pheromones wouldn’t be a bad idea. There was a small hotel, he’d seen it. And while they were away, they could get a hold of some proper clothing for her.

 

[Raivh]

Zeb’s eyes skimmed over her features, watching her expression change from one of amusement to one of thought, the edges of her lip turning down toward her chin. The scars on her face didn’t matter; in fact, he didn’t even see them as scars, but as a part of her, of her history, what she’d been through. Sergei’s name rang a bell, and he wondered how Lola’s fate was twined with the fellow’s. If no male had thrust her into heat as she’d said, their relationship couldn’t have been anything but platonic. That was enough to settle the edge of tension that started to creep into Zeb’s mind, broken when Lola rose to her feet. Her hand lighted on his shoulder, just the slightest of touch, but as she padded toward the exit, the impulse to follow her was overwhelming. Reigning himself in, he cleared his throat and nodded.

In her absence, he allowed himself time to rationalize his thoughts and urges. She was in heat, and he was in a state of intoxication and enchantment, captivated. It was chance that his dominant display back in the woods had sent her temperature spiking and her body to prepare for mating. In turn, once the beast inside of him recognized its achievement, it began to pace, to lunge, to lust. Without a mate, and being a creature desiring of a female’s intimate and affectionate company, instinct left Zeb a riddled mess. Her body craved his as his did her, and he hadn’t a single doubt that in taking her she would deny him. But in allowing the mating ritual to reach completion, he couldn’t help but wonder where they would be after. Her pack respected him, or at least most of its members did. Marking her with his scent might set the harmony of the group off, whether for a short or long period he wasn’t sure.

Inhaling a deep breath, his mind began to clear with the fresh air, but clouded the instant his senses were bombarded once again with that all-too-inviting fragrance that permeated her flesh. “Thanks,” he said, eyes trained on her face as he accepted the clothing. Without concern or hesitation to exposing his body before her, he took a step back and undid his robe. Setting the shirt on the counter, he first pulled on the pair of jeans. Sure enough, Sergei’s size was close enough to his own that the denim only sagged a minimal few inches off his hips. The shirt came on over his head next, and then he turned his attention to the hamburgers, all of which were nearly finished.

“Is her scent still strong on me?” He couldn’t tell. Having been around her for so many years, her natural scent and perfume combination had become something he’d been accustomed to. Back home, it didn’t matter much; there was no other woman he wanted, even after her death. Whether it would bother Lola or not was something he was curious about. Seeking out and producing a loaf of bread and two plates, he set them down on the counter and proceeded to remove the burgers from the heated skillet. The meat steamed as he placed each on a slice of bread, and once finished, he handed a plate to Lola. Silence seemed imminent, resounding in the cabin with just their presences to fill space. Wandering back into her living room, he sank down on the couch and turned on the television, hoping it along with the food would distract his thoughts.

…….

Not a minute late, Matthew arched a brow high on his forehead, curious how Samantha had managed to avoid staining the top she had changed into. It was obvious by the perfume on the article that it had belonged to another woman, not to a shop in the area. The fragrance wasn’t repulsive in the least, but it wasn’t something he was attracted to either; it wasn’t Sam’s scent, though hers mingled with the other woman’s. Catching the glimmer of life returned to her blue eyes, Matthew lowered his eyes to hers as she neared and spoke.

He wasn’t the only one whose appearance had drastically improved. Samantha’s complexion, albeit pale in life after death, had improved, giving her a certain luminescence about her that he couldn’t deny as fetching. With a deep breath in, his arms snaked out, and his fingers curled over her hips, drawing her to him. Leaning down, the fingers of his left hand slid to the small of her back and then skated up her spine in the slowest of fashions. When he reached the smooth black ribbon at the nape of her neck, he toyed with it, gave it a playful tug that threatened to undo the knot, before his lips met hers. The kiss he bequeathed her was both affectionate and demanding, and he didn’t give a single thought to passersby who might chastise the public display. It wasn’t quite time to call it a night, and judging by the clinging smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol on her person.

“I like this outfit better,” he murmured, sliding his lips and fangs along her jaw to her ear. “Not too revealing, but not difficult to remove.” A devilish grin riddled his features, and he took a step back, hand grasping hers, and turned to seek out the club she had picked to hunt at. People came and went every day; no one would assume that Samantha had picked the top she wore off the woman. Regardless, if any individual should, they could escape and never be found, leave no trace behind to be tracked. Music pulsed from inside the building, loud enough to hear from a distance, and by the time Matthew reached the doors his arm was wound around Sam’s waist in a possessive and protective manner. The last time they were at any sort of club, they’d been trying to kill each other or hadn’t been on ‘good’ terms.

With a grin, his nose grazed the top of her ear as his breath whispered over the shell. “Do you want to dance?”