Page 33 of The Lycans: Vol Four

“Your wolf,” I moaned, feeling even more arousal at that thought. I could see the visage of his animal flash across his face, his bone structure becoming sharper.

“It’s okay,” he said again and again. “I canna help it. He wants tae be here with us, to taste ye, touch ye. He’s a selfish, greedy bastard.” He was panting. “Like me.”

I moaned at the thought, more wetness spilling from my pussy.

“Ah, my girl, so primed for me.” He dug his nails deeper into the leather, tearing the material. “What ye’re feeling is normal. It’s how it’s supposed tae be.”

I ran my tongue over my lips, tasting his flavor. He groaned again, and I leaned forward once more, kissing him, wanting to crawl inside Odhran where it was safe and warm and where I’d always feel this pleasure.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, and we deepened the kiss, tongues pressing and moving together, our flavors and scents coexisting as one. His cock throbbed incessantly underneath me, and I started rocking back and forth, finding a rhythm that had me so slick between my legs, I knew if I stood that wetness would slide down my inner thighs.

I moaned once more and got lost in all things Odhran. But when I felt his hand move up my back, following the length of my spine, something in me started to change, to shift. I tried to push it back, reminding myself this was my mate, my protector.

Flashes of my prison, of the pain and torture, of the cruel hits and touches, flashed in my mind so fast and brightly that Odhran instantly sensed the change. He let go of me, and as I continued to push past those memories that had once again ruined this moment, I felt so hopeless that I was crying before I realized the tears fell.

“My sweet girl.” His voice was guttural, filled with pain.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m broken.” My eyes were squeezed shut so tightly they stung. I shook my head over and over again, trying to clear the memories away.

He wrapped his arms around me slowly, gently. And when I wasn’t pulled back to the past, he gently stroked by back.

“I’ll never let ye go. I’ll always be here. No matter what.” He started speaking in Gaelic, soft words I didn’t understand but knew they were meant to ease me. “There’s no rush. No rush at all.” He kissed the top of my head, and I buried my face in the crook of his neck.

After a few moments, and after I gathered my self-control, I whispered, “I’m not normal.” I felt his arms tighten around me as if reflexively.

“There’s no such thing as normal, sweetheart. We are how we’re meant tae be in this world. We just have tae navigate new waters.” He kissed my temple and said something in Gaelic. “We have the rest of our lives tae find what works for us, and if all I ever get tae do is hold ye like this, I’ll count myself the luckiest male ever.”

I clutched his shirt and shook my head, although I didn’t know what I was denying.

“No rush,” he murmured. “And we’ll find our new normal. We’ll work through what we have tae, because we’re meant tae be together.”

He kept speaking in Gaelic, the words slowly morphing into what resembled a lullaby.

And despite the turmoil, the hardship, and all the obstacles that seemed to stand in our way of finding that elusive happily ever after, I knew no matter what, this was where I was meant to be.

I just didn’t know if that was how destiny saw it too.

14

Odhran

Ihadn’t had a full night’s sleep since… gods, since Larkin was taken from me. And even though I now had her back, protected and safe with me, and would never let anyone hurt her again, I still couldn’t rest.

I’d made it my normal to stay in her room and watch her sleep, something that helped calm me because she was within reach. I couldn’t lose her again. I wouldn’t.

I was a strong male, powerful, an alpha. I’d won countless battles, became a warlord. I was known for my savagery and brutality on the battlefield.

But when it came to Larkin… I was weak.

I was a coward and felt like I had no control.

I scrubbed a hand over my face, feeling my scruff and knowing I needed to shave. When we’d first gotten here, I made a pallet on the floor, but when all I did was toss and turn, I brought in the leather chair from the living room.

For hours, I’d just read, intermittently watching her sleep, hyper-fixated on the steady rise and fall of her chest. Then I said fuck the reading when she had her first nightmare. I couldn’t concentrate anyway, but knowing she was reliving her trauma while she should be at peace and resting was like someone taking a spoon and digging out my heart.

I leaned forward and braced my forearms on my thighs, just watching her, thinking about the heinous shit the Assembly did to me in the short amount of time I was there. She had been in their clutches for decades, had dealt with that horror for so long.

My girl was strong, had survived, but the pain was still clutching at her.

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