Page 16 of Shadow Spirit

“No one is suggesting you did. We all know that our way of life—that of shifters—was imposed on you without your consent.”

“You don’t know how it feels to have no say in the matter.”

“I do. Oliver Halsey was my CO and later my alpha. He turned me on the battlefield to save my life, and before you tell me it’s not the same, I know that it isn’t, but I do have an inkling of how it feels. I’ve also worked with more than my fair share of humans who were turned without their consent.”

“It’s still not the same,” she said, stubbornly.

“I didn’t say it was. I simply said, I did have a basis for understanding. I do think, though, that until we can figure out how this thing between you, Decker, and me is going to work and its ramifications, we should probably exercise a little more caution than you letting Decker have his way with you on Colby’s desk.”

Adriana rolled her eyes. “Oh, good god, are we back to that? Why don’t you figure out what you want out of all of this. Right now, the best I’ve felt since this whole thing started with Eoghan was when Decker covered my body with his. For the first time in almost a year, I felt whole. And if you think I’m giving that up because you’re feeling left out…” She hopped off the exam table. “Think again.”

“Adriana, get back up on the exam bed. I’m not through yet.”

“Well, I am, and last time I checked, you weren’t the boss of me.”

“Boss of you? Seriously?” She ignored his directions and tried to push past him. As she opened the door, Greg placed his palm on it, slamming it shut before pressing her back up against it. “Perhaps you need me to show you just what kind of mate I intend to be.”

He lowered his head, and as his lips met hers, the nausea and dizziness seemed to fall away as a connection with her settled into place. It wasn’t the snap or the profound sense of oneness he’d heard described, but a deep and abiding bond taking hold. He knew it would never be broken or replaced. The idea that if she left, his soul would follow hers was no longer a romantic notion but a certainty. He’d tried to tell himself that he could ignore the simmering desire that had bubbled just beneath the surface, but he knew better.

“Greg,” she managed to murmur as her body softened and her hands found his waist with a kind of acceptance that made his heart race.

“Shh,” he whispered against her lips, deepening the kiss as she melted into him. The world narrowed down to the firm press of her body against his. In her embrace, he found a feeling of rightness. There was a feeling of protectiveness and caring he’d never felt before.

Greg swept her up in his arms and carried her from the exam room to a separate room he kept for when he needed to be closer to patients than the main keep—each step was a silent agreement, a mutual surrender to the elemental force that was the call of a fated mate.

The room was small, but comfortably furnished and lit only by a single lamp, casting shadows around the room. Setting her down on her feet, he gently removed her clothes, his fingers brushing against her skin and removing layers of fabric and reserve until she stood naked before him.

“My god, you’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said, each word laced with a reverent awe. He needed her to know this was important—not just him evening the score with Decker. “I’d begun to believe my fated mate didn’t exist, and I’d accepted that if I didn’t find you at all my work would be my solace.” He chuckled. “I’m so glad I was wrong. You’re not at all what I expected and everything I didn’t know I wanted and needed.”

“You need a smart-ass witch/wolf-shifter hybrid?” she quipped, her nervousness showing.

“You have no idea how much.”

He laid her down on the bed and without ever losing eye contact, removed his own clothes. Joining her on the bed, he stretched out and began exploring her body, a kind of devotion mixed with desire in each caress. He needed her to understand this was more than just a physical union; it was the joining of their souls. He was beginning to understand that somehow, he and Decker had always been linked—that she needed them both.

Greg’s hands were a soft whisper against her heated skin, grazing her nipples and sending waves of pleasure coursing through her. She was uncharted territory. His mouth skimmed over her—kissing, licking, nipping, and heightening her arousal.

“Greg, maybe we should—” she began, her breath hitching as his tongue flicked over sensitive flesh.

“Shh,” he soothed, his hands continued their gentle exploration. “Just feel.”

She moaned softly, her fists grasping at the sheets, silencing any doubts he might have had. The tension within him coiled tighter, each caress drawing her closer to the precipice where need and desire converged. He was patient and methodical in his relentless pursuit of her pleasure. Decker might well be the wildfire that threatened to consume her, but he meant to be the warm fire of the hearth that kept her warm and safe for the rest of their lives.

“Greg,” she gasped, her voice breaking on his name.

“Let go, Adriana,” he murmured between kisses, his voice raw with restrained desire. “Come undone for me.”

The world narrowed down to the sensation of his mouth, the mastery of his touch, and the overwhelming certainty that he was about to cause her to shatter into a million pieces. Her breath became rapid and thready as her orgasm approached. When the climax hit, her body arched off the bed, every muscle tensing as wave after wave of ecstasy rippled through her.

“Greg,” she cried out, a testament to the wonder he had coaxed from her depths.

It was amazing, a revelation that left her breathless and trembling, clinging to the remnants of earth-shattering bliss. As the aftershocks of her climax subsided, her hands found him, hard and insistent as she wrapped her fingers around his length. His breath hitched as she began to stroke, a rhythmic pull that made him growl in a way that had nothing to do with anger.

“Greg,” she murmured, the raw power of his need pressing into her palm.

“Enough,” he said, his voice strained, the words barely a whisper against her lips.

It was the vulnerability in her eyes, the silent plea for affirmation that undid the last thread of hesitation within him. He might be pushing her too soon when she was still vulnerable, but he didn’t care. He needed her every bit as much as she needed him.

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