Page 42 of The Kill

Flushed from her orgasm, and we’re both dazed from the sensation of our bond pulling tighter, wrapping around us, and sharing more of our emotions across the invisible connection. As she stares up at me, nothing but adoration on her face, I grin and lick my lips.

“We’re not finished yet.”

26

MANDY

Waking up slowly, with pale, weak sunlight pouring in through the open windows, I stretch, loving the aches and pains I feel all over my body. Especially the throbbing sensation on my neck where my mark now sits.

The last twenty-four hours have been quite a whirlwind. I went from kneeing my mate in the balls, to stroking them while he came inside me. It will be interesting to see what the next twenty-four bring.

Reaching over to Tyson’s side of the bed, I frown when my fingers feel smooth, cool sheets instead of a warm body.

No Tyson.

Blinking, I sit up, dragging the blanket higher on my body as I scan the room, disappointed not to find my mate. How long have I been asleep? The last thing I remember is coming again as he drank his fill, that rhythmic pull on my clit in time with each suck on my vein enough to turn me into a writhing mess in seconds.

I yank a blanket free of the balled-up sheets, which reek deliciously of sex and Tyson, and wrap it around myself as I pad to the bathroom. Tyson’s bedroom is all dark wood and rich colours. His bathroom is the same, with black marble and gold taps giving it a luxurious feel. Stretching on my tiptoes to see into the mirror, I grin at the two silvery marks on my neck.

When I brush my hand over the still-raised puncture wounds, a jolt of electricity shoots to my core. It feels like the mark is directly linked to my pussy.

“That’s going to be fun,” I mutter, pressing my thighs together as stars dance before my eyes. This is why newly mated couples normally disappear in a haze of sex and pheromones for a few days.

Somehow, everything just feels right.

Rooting through the presses, I’m relieved to find no evidence of women staying here. There are no hair brushes in here, no face creams. Nothing to suggest he’s been having regular sleepovers with anyone. We haven’t discussed previous partners, or recent partners, other than the one Tyson killed to protect me.

A jolt of jealousy flares inside me when I consider that some seductive she-vamp could appear here expecting Tyson to still be footloose and fancy free. I’ll tear her face off if she thinks she can touch him.

Shocked at the level of violence I’m immediately willing to do if another woman even speaks to my unmarked mate, I decide that seeing him might be a good idea to calm the murderous rage building inside me. Pulling myself together, I do the best to smooth down my obviously freshly-fucked hair and go back out to the main bedroom to find my clothes.

No panties yet again. What is he doing with them?

As I start to worry that it might be later than I think, I reach out through our stronger bond and am relieved that I can still sense him close by.

“Tyson?” I make my way downstairs, scenting the air and tracking him down to the library, tucked away at the rear of the property. Head down, he’s hunched over a map spread wide across a giant desk. Immediately, I feel awful that I was enjoying my sex-induced coma while Tyson was worrying about his impending meeting with my old alpha.

Stopping in the doorway, I wait for him to lift his eyes to meet mine, expecting at least a hint of a smile, but, instead, Tyson looks like he’s about to tell me he ran over my dog.

“I sent a message back with Matt to Blake. When he gets it, he’ll come straight here, so you’ll have someone here to protect you in case the worst happens. Promise you’ll stay safe, no matter what happens,” he pleads, a stern look in his eye.

“No. Just ask for help, Tyson! Damn it, we can’t do this on our own!”

I can’t let him do this. I want to be free, but not at the expense of someone else’s life. Or because of my mate’s stubborn refusal to tell Blake the truth about what’s going on.

“I won’t be. You’ll still be with me, little mate, and your blood flows through my veins now.” The confidence in his voice does nothing to make me feel any better. Panic rises inside me that now, when I finally have a shot at being truly happy again, my pack is going to take it away from me again.

“He’s going to kill you!” I don’t even attempt to disguise the wobble in my voice. He can feel my emotions. He knows what he’s doing to me.

Tyson remains tight-lipped, and I feel bad for not giving him my vote of confidence, but I can’t bear the thought of him getting hurt. He stands as still as a statue, ignoring my horrified expression, and continues with his list of demands.

“You’re not to step foot outside. The wards will protect you while you’re indoors. Lee’s father won’t be able to get to you so long as you don’t invite him in.” He clears his throat and looks away guiltily for a moment, steeling himself and speaking once more. “Matt and Raiden will come if Blake doesn’t return. They’ll help you.”

If things really go to shit, and anything happens to Blake, Matt will know where he went. He’s the only person who knows where here is, apart from Weston.

“No, Tyson! You can’t expect me to stay locked in here while you’re putting your life on the line for me. It’s ridiculous! I can help!” As I storm over to Tyson, he closes his eyes, pain crossing his expression briefly and he returns his crimson gaze to me, fierce and determined.

“You have to stay alive for Noah’s sake.” He coughs and clasps his hands behind his back. “I’m dispensable.”

---