Page 35 of Craved By a Wolf

Unlike the witch’s, whose breasts would just nicely fill his hands.

Kin banished her and stared at Magda, forcing his focus back to her. Her dress reached her hips and slipped over it, revealing a neat thatch of dark curls at the apex of her thighs, and he pulled down a breath, catching the scent of her desire.

He jerked his chin, silently commanding her to come to him.

She obeyed.

Unlike the witch.

Kin gritted his teeth. Kicked her out of his head and slammed the door on her arse. He raked his gaze over Magda. She was more than pleasing, could satisfy these needs for him and then he would forget the witch. It was only lust that made him want Hella. She wasn’t his mate.

He stared at Magda, recalling all their past encounters in an attempt to make his desire about her instead. At times, he had felt she had a thing for him, but then there had also been times where she had made it clear she wasn’t interested in him beyond warming his bed from time to time. She had talked of finding her fated mate once, a long time ago, and the glint in her eyes had revealed how deeply she wanted that to happen.

And gods, he felt sure that he would look the same way if he spoke of his fated one right now. He would look as if his heart was fit to burst, as if he wanted to howl in joy, and that he wanted to cherish his female because she was precious and perfect.

Had he really found his mate?

Or was it all a cruel lie?

He shook those questions from his mind, forcing his focus back to the female here with him now, and away from the one who didn’t want him to cherish her, to protect her and love her.

Magda eased to her knees before him and stroked his thighs, and he spread them for her, watching her as she eagerly leaned forwards to kiss his skin, so eager to please him.

Unlike the witch.

He growled and Magda froze, her golden eyes lifting to his face as fear flashed across hers. Because she thought he was growling at her because she had displeased him. She hadn’t. He was angry with himself for not having more control over his own mind and body, furious at Hella for muddling his thoughts and his feelings, and in a rage at the witch who had cursed him to believe Hella was his mate.

Determined to rid himself of those feelings, of thoughts of Hella, he grabbed Magda by her nape and hauled her up to him for a bruising kiss. He wasn’t gentle as he took her mouth, wasn’t at all sweet or charming. He was every bit the alpha he was, taking what he wanted without bowing to anyone else’s desires, without caring about the feelings of the woman in his arms.

She moaned regardless and sank against him, a compliant little thing that didn’t seek to stop him or make him gentle his kiss.

Didn’t slap him away.

Or chain him.

She surrendered to him.

Rubbed her bare curves against him.

But for some damned reason, no matter how fiercely he kissed her, no matter how she worked her body against him, he felt only rage.

Resentment.

All of it aimed at himself.

This wasn’t right. This wasn’t what he wanted. He was acting out because Hella had rejected him and he was hurting, and frustrated. This wasn’t like him. He had never been like other alphas of his breed, had never taken what he wanted from females with little care about what they wanted.

When she brought her knees up beside his thighs and eagerly reached for his trunks, Kin seized her wrist and stopped her.

Because this wasn’t right.

She didn’t smell right.

Didn’t taste right.

She wasn’t the one his body wanted—the one his soul yearned to have in his arms.

Kin pushed her away, angrier than ever. Only that anger was mixed with frustration and despair, and a whole lot of disappointment and despondence.

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