Page 51 of Craved By a Wolf

Desiring him?

Another potential answer came to him, one that had him restless with a need to see her and on the verge of calling out to her.

She had dreamed of him.

He had noticed how tired she had looked before she had cast that little spell on him, knocking him out. She must have fallen asleep and had dreamed of him. Gods, just the thought of her fantasising about him in such a manner had him as hard as stone in his jeans.

Kin remembered something else that had happened.

And grimaced.

He had been so fired up from the fight and the chase and his mate being in danger, that he hadn’t been able to deny the needs she roused in him. He ached for her. Burned for her. Needed her more than the breath in his lungs or a beat in his chest.

A kiss had seemed like an innocent enough request.

But then he hadn’t made it a request.

He had made it a demand.

He pulled another face and huffed.

He needed to stop letting desire and instinct steal control of him. Which was easier said than done. Even now, the scent of her had him itching for her, desperate to call out to her and make her come to him. When she came to see him, he would cajole her into lowering her guard, would be sweet and charming so she would kiss him and then he would seek more while she was swept up in the moment.

Seducing her.

He grunted.

It was what he had decided to do, wasn’t it? He had come here to seduce her and bed her, and then take her to the witch and be done with her.

So why did he want to rage at just the thought of betraying her like that?

Why did he already hate himself for something he hadn’t even done yet?

He blamed his instincts. The urge to claim her was strong, had his fangs descending against his will. He told himself that she was most likely right and she wasn’t his fated one, but his instincts weren’t listening. They saw her as his mate.

As the one female in this world he needed in his life.

The only female he would want from this point forwards.

Kin closed his eyes and exhaled, purging all the air from his lungs as he cleared his mind. She wasn’t his true mate. His fated female was still out there somewhere. Everything he felt for Hella was a lie.

Her scent teased him.

Warmed him.

Calmed him.

Wasn’t it?

His brow furrowed as he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. Maybe he could find out. She was a witch and had been able to reveal there was a curse on him. He could convince her to help him remove it. It was in her best interests too. She didn’t want him any more than he wanted her.

A lie.

She wanted him as fiercely as he wanted her.

And what did that mean?

Witches didn’t have fated mates, so she couldn’t be caught up in the fever of finding her one as he was. Which meant she truly desired him.

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