Page 83 of Reaper's Pack

And dragged her right down with me. My back hit the scraggly floor hard, and before I could catch anything, we slipped and rolled and tumbled all the way down the slope—a slope that steepened, laden with unseen rocks and mud and leaves sticks and oh fuck, whatever that was actually hurt a bit. Over and over we flew, and still I refused to let her go.

Not even when we finally hit the gully at the bottom. The ravine’s base squished beneath me but had yet to flood. Overhead, the cedars bent and swayed, shielding us barely from the sheet of rain. Having taken the brunt of our descent, I sat up with a breathless groan, Hazel strewn across me, her dress around her hips and her hair like a spider’s nest. The reaper pushed up, both hands on my chest, and blinked at her new surroundings, momentarily dazed.

But as soon as her gaze landed on me again, that hand was up, palm out, ready to hit me for some cardinal sin. I caught her before she swung, a snarl humming between us. She fought me, silent and fuming, our fall just a brief pause from whatever this was between us. To her credit, she was far stronger than she looked.

I was just stronger.

Capturing both wrists, I managed to roll and pin her, then shoved a knee between her exposed thighs when she tried to kick me. Her throat dipped delectably when my cock pressed against her belly, hard and insistent, but a heartbeat later she bared her teeth and fought. Squirmed. Wriggled. Thrashed about.

Little did she realize, her fire only made everything worse.

The union of an alpha and his true mate, his fated mate, was said to be a violent one. Harsh enough to draw blood. That wasn’t the case with every female; all my past trysts had been hurried and in secret, neither of us a mating pair.

For an alpha’s mate was the only one who could handle his power, his strength.

The only one who could stare down the savagery within and survive.

The only one who could laugh it off—and slap him across the face.

How long could I refuse her? How long could I face all the evidence and still walk away?

Scowling, I released her and sat up on my knees, pointedly not looking at her exposed sex, her bare stomach, the swell of her hips. Just as I was about to climb off and stand up, Hazel rose onto one elbow, then grabbed my shirt collar with her free hand. The fabric tore when she yanked me back down, and ruled by the beast within, I fell into a biting kiss that wrenched a snarl out of me again.

For a creature who looked so breakable, Hazel was resiliency personified, her bones forged of the same cosmos as her scythe. She withstood everything I had to throw at her, every rough caress, every probing sweep of my tongue. Her nails raked down my neck and under my shirt, and I met the searing pain with a hiss, my fingertips sinking into her thigh.

Did reapers bruise?

Fuck, I hoped so.

Even if it all came crashing down right this second, I would have loved to see marks on her pale flesh tomorrow.

She matched my ferocity with one of her own, biting and snapping at my swollen lips, tugging at my hair, arching up beneath my much larger body.

Hell, she even managed to roll me onto my back, catching me off guard at just the right moment to flip me into the sodden earth. Settled on top of me, Hazel ripped her mouth from mine, one hand on my throat, the other my chest, her molten center writhing over my constrained cock. Her tongue swept across her full lips, that once furious gaze muddled and complicated. Then, without a word, she staggered off me, half-naked and tromping through the ravine.

I blinked the rainwater from my eyes, bereft without her. Hazel’s scent lingered in her wake, a clear-cut trail through the darkness, and I shot to my feet, every sense zeroed in on her. It had been an age since I’d hunted anything properly, but through the rain, beneath the flash of streaking white and the doldrum echo of thunder, I stalked her. Hunted her. Pursued her across the ravine.

Hazel stumbled along like she’d forgotten she had left a predator behind, yanking her dress down and attempting to untangle her hair. Slow and steady, she picked her way through the soggy terrain, her back to me—a fatal error.

Don’t you want me?

Blood pounding in my ears, I finally answered. In a few monstrous strides, I was on her, hooking an arm around her waist and hoisting her off the ground. She squealed my name, legs flailing, and I lurched forward with my teeth to her neck—let her go at the foot of a fallen tree that sliced across the valley. Hazel stumbled a little once her feet found the forest floor again, but I refused to give her so much as a second to reorient; I shoved her forward, bent her over the tree trunk. A green sheen coated the bark, moss growing, but it was solid enough to withstand the weight of a gasping reaper.

Her hair spilled over her shoulders, and my hands frantically found the top of that red dress—grasped it, ripped it clean in two. Pretty as it was, delectable as she looked in red, it only got in the way. Next came the black material that wrapped around her chest, that hid away her breasts. It opened with a snap of the clasp, lace splayed on either side of her like wings. Lips lifted in a growl, I tangled one hand in her hair, holding her down, while the other went for my cumbersome trousers.

Hazel kicked back at me blindly, squirming in place and swatting halfheartedly at my forearm. I stretched her neck back, practically salivating at the sight of her folded over before me, ass up, sex ripe for the plundering. Logic switched off when I dug my cock free. The internal monologue that had plagued me since birth, the one that assessed risk, that always pushed me in the “right” direction for the sake of others around me finally fell mute. More beast than man, I let desire win, just this once.

I parted her legs with my knee, spread her softest folds with my fingers—and plunged into her with a single, brutal thrust.

Everything went black as I sank down to the hilt, her wet inferno engulfing me whole, welcoming me home—the perfect fit, a lock requiring a very specific key.

A key crafted by fate.

Well, I suppose—keys.

Her long, breathy moan brought the world into color again, and her dulcet soprano cry met my gruff baritone rumble in perfect harmony. Hazel arched her body up, rising to meet me even with my hand twisted ruthlessly in her hair. Delicate shoulders met my chest. Her heat tightened around me. Her lips tumbled open. Her hand found my hair.

And sank in, gripped firmly, wrenched like she was spurring on a stallion. I snarled in her ear and bucked hard, earning another moan that would rattle around my skull for eternity. My teeth found her neck just as my hips found their rhythm, the pair of us falling into a dance that somehow I had always known—for which I’d spent my life waiting for the right partner. It came easily, naturally.

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