Desire Unchained

“You’re an ass.”


“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“I was in love with you.” Silence fell like an executioner’s ax. Oh, God. Had she just said that? Out loud? If the way the blood rushed from his face was any indication, then yep, she’d opened her big yap and made a fool of herself. “Don’t worry,” she said quickly, “I’m over it. Over you.”

He leaned forward. “Good. Do you know what I am? What I really am?”

“You’re a Seminus demon.” She glanced at the black markings that ran from the fingers of his right hand all the way up to his neck, tattoos she’d thought were just that; tattoos. But she’d since learned that they were something he’d been born with, a history of his paternity going back dozens of generations. The very top symbol, an unseeing eye just beneath his jaw, was his personal mark, which would have appeared following his first maturation phase at the age of twenty.

“And?”

She smiled tightly. “I spent months researching your species after that night.” Not that much information had been available. Oh, incubi had been thoroughly documented, but his particular breed, Seminus, was so rare that she’d unearthed only sketchy details.

“Then you know my nature—”

“Your nature?” Anger flooded her, anger she thought she’d buried. “I get that you pretty much live in a state of perpetual arousal. I get that your need for sex is all but uncontrollable. But you know what? I don’t give a crap. You tricked me into having sex with you. Used your incubus tricks and pheromones. You lied to me, made me think you were human.” She could go on, about how betrayed and sickened she’d been when she’d learned the truth, but ultimately, what had happened after she’d fled his apartment was what mattered. “You ruined my life,” she snapped.

Well, she’d done that herself long before Shade had walked into her coffee shop, but he’d definitely made things worse.

“Shit,” he muttered. “See, this is why I make it a rule to not sleep with a human more than once. Your females are clingy.”

She stared. Sputtered. “Are you kidding me? You think my life was ruined because you seduced me and then broke my heart?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, shrugging one broad shoulder.

What. An. Ass.

Snarling, she leaped into an aggressive crouch so fast he reared backward. Her chains rattled as she trembled with the force of her rage. Her skin prickled, tightening, her gums ached, and she knew she was dangerously close to letting out the inner beast.

“You arrogant son of a bitch.” She slammed her palm into his chest, was thrilled to hear him grunt. “I was upset that night, but I’d have gotten over it. Too bad I never got the chance. See, after I left your apartment, I was attacked, torn up, and left to die. You might have known that if you hadn’t had some skanky vampire shouting your name. You might have heard me scream.”

Shade’s gaze sharpened on her, points of midnight flint. “Someone hurt you?”

“Am I supposed to believe you care?”

His hand came up to curl around hers. “Believe it or not, I’m not a monster.”

She laughed, a hard, bitter sound. “No, but I am.” She got right up in his face. “Because of you, I’m a monster, Shade. I’m a goddamned werewolf.”





Two





A werewolf? Not good.

Shade closed his eyes, hoping that when he opened them, he’d wake up in his own bed and Runa would be gone.

“Well?”

So much for that. This nightmare wasn’t going away. He opened his eyes. Wished he hadn’t. Runa was glaring at him, her pale eyes sparking. Gods, he’d bet she was beautiful in beast form … shiny, toffee fur, glowing champagne eyes. She’d be big; would probably stand taller than him. And now the fact that she seemed taller and leaner made sense. Those bitten by werewolves, or wargs, as they usually called themselves, put on muscle and grew an extra inch or two in human form.

Now that his head had cleared, he could smell her as well. Her scent was no longer flowery and sweet. No, she smelled earthy, like a late summer rain in the forest. Oh, and she also smelled really, really pissed.

“Isn’t the full moon in two days?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why? You think I have a raging case of PMS?”

“It occurred to me.” Weres might joke about Pre-Moon Syndrome, but those who weren’t were-creatures didn’t find anything funny about their hair-trigger tempers, mood swings, and out-of-control sex drives.

“Oh, right. My anger wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that of the two people I hate the most in the world, I’m chained in a cell with one, and in two days when I morph, I’m probably going to be skinned alive for my pelt, which is apparently worth a mint on the underworld black market.” She jerked her hand out of his with a snarl. “So excuse me for being a little pissy.”

“A little?”