Page 65 of Craved By a Wolf

An exaggeration, but it certainly worked. He went deathly still, barely breathing.

Apparently, his survival instincts ran deep, were powerful enough that he could curb his desires. She made a mental note of that and considered what she was going to do.

Hella hesitated. The best way to get a spell into someone was skin contact, but asking him to remove his top would probably come across as a signal she wanted him to get all frisky again. Rather than risking that, she eased her hands under his Henley. His stomach flexed when she made contact, and mother earth, he had lost muscle. He wasn’t scrawny, not by a long shot, but he was noticeably less muscular than before.

His low growl heated her blood.

She resisted looking up at him, but couldn’t resist gently stroking her palms over his torso as she edged them upwards towards his chest. Or looking at the toned strip of stomach she revealed as his top caught on her forearms and lifted. She wanted to let her fingers follow that dark treasure trail that led downwards to the waist of his jeans as she swirled her tongue around the sensual dip of his navel.

This time, his growl was deeper and she shook herself out of her reverie as she realised it was because he could feel her rising desire and wanted to act on it. He had made it clear countless times that he could sense her need and felt driven to satisfy her, and she was probably throwing off strong signals that were making him even crazier.

Soon. He could take all he wanted from her and give her everything she needed soon. She just needed a moment to check something.

“Mind on business, Hella,” she murmured to herself, denying the urge to keep soaking up the delicious sight of his body.

Her palms met his chest and she spaced them a few inches apart on either side of his racing heart, closed her eyes and used a spell to form a connection between them, one that would allow her to do a little probing.

Her eyes shot wide.

She had barely scratched the surface when the truth hit her like a bomb, shaking her.

“Mother earth,” she breathed and looked up at him, her gaze colliding with his as shock rolled through her.

The curse really was killing him. She could feel it like a creeping rot in his body, spreading outwards from his heart, and it wasn’t only stealing his strength. It was affecting his mind too, twisting his thoughts towards one thing—the pursuit of the only thing that could bring him relief.

Her.

When she found the witch who had done this to him, she was going to kill them. They would pay for hurting MacKinnon. They would pay for using him to get to her, involving him when they should have had the balls to come at her themselves instead.

“We’re doing this,” she said and kept her hands against his chest, locking her elbows when he tried to move towards her again. “But I have a condition, and you’re not going to like it.”

His expression darkened and his heart thundered against her palms, and she swore she could feel his panic.

She stared into his eyes, keeping her with him. “You’re not the only one afraid, MacKinnon. You’re not yourself. If there was any other way to make sure you didn’t go too far or get too rough—”

“Do it.” He held his wrists out to her, his deep voice gravelly, the earnest edge to it far too sexy. “I don’t want you to fear me, Hella. I don’t want to hurt you.”

His eyes told her something else as they darted between hers, something that resonated within her.

He wanted this to be the start of something, not the end.

Gods help her but she wanted that too.

She also wanted something else.

“Take your top off.” She pushed her hands upwards towards his shoulders as he growled low, his eyes narrowing on hers.

He whipped it off, revealing his body to her, and she masked the horror that rolled through her as she saw just how much the curse had ravaged him. She could probably fit her hands around his biceps now. She ached for the old MacKinnon, the one who had been healthy in mind and body. She could bring that man back to her. All she had to do was take things to the next level with him and that was hardly a chore.

He tossed his shirt on the floor, his gaze still riveted on her, as if he couldn’t look away, and she liked that. She liked that he was always so transfixed by her, as if she was the only other person in this world. A woman could get used to having such a handsome, powerful man doting on her and satisfying her every need.

While still retaining her independence, of course.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to wrangle that, knew in her gut he would have ideas about them that she wasn’t going to agree with, but she would figure it out once MacKinnon was back to his normal self.

Hella said the incantation in her mind as she reached up and skimmed her hands down his arms in one fluid motion, keeping her eyes locked with his, distracting him. When her fingers met his wrists, she funnelled the spell to their tips and completed it. Cold metal replaced the warmth of his skin and she held her breath, bracing herself for his reaction when chains unravelled from the twin thick cuffs and snapped to a point on the floor behind him.

He sucked down a breath, and then another, swallowed hard and glanced at his wrists.

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