Page 16 of Fated Wolf's Redemption

I reach out, grab her wrist, and drag her to the ground, grappling with her until I pin her beneath me. She can't move, but she doesn’t struggle. I keep her wrists trapped in one of my hands, pinning her arms above her head. Her body stretches out beneath me—slick with sweat and need and exposed to the cool night air. A low growl vibrates through my chest before I mark her with slow, wet kisses, drowning her in my scent.

"Lucas, this is a bad idea..."

“I don’t care.”

The scent of her arousal is overwhelming. I’m aching for her and she’s wet, ripe and ready for me. I hold her down, spreading her legs as I settle between them, pressing the head of my cock against the entrance to her core. I don’t push in and chuckle as she whimpers in frustration.

She arches her hips, silently pleading, but I hold her still. I’m stronger than she is, unyielding, and all she can do is surrender. Her scent surrounds me, my weight holding her down. She hisses as I run my hands over her, every part of me caging her in.

When I finally push inside, she moans in abject pleasure. I’m well-endowed and my cock stretches her pussy, but her body takes mine in greedily. She needs to be filled, and I need to fill her. Her walls clench around my length, pulling me deeper.

I give her little time to adjust before I start to move powerfully within her. I need this… need her. The forest fades around us, my world narrowing to her heat surrounding me. Sophia goes limp, surrendering completely.

My eyes close. Every thrust is harder than the last, reducing us both to pure sensation. My thrusts turn rough, desperate until I give a final thrust and her body clamps down on me,holding me tight as I empty myself deep inside her—flooding the ache, soothing the need. Pleasure crashes over me, raw and consuming, ripping a primal howl from my throat.

The heat fades. The desperation ebbs. Satisfaction takes its place, deeper and more fulfilling than anything else. I roll from her, but before I can pull her close, she moves away, calling forth her she-wolf before grasping her sweater in her jaws and charges off.

How the fuck can she do that? I’m fucking spent. I let her run… let her think nothing had changed. We both know differently.

CHAPTER 5

SOPHIA

Books never used to frustrate me. They were steady. Reliable. They never judged. Never looked at me like Lucas Stone does. And yet, right now, as I stare at the scattered pages of old Windrider lore spread across my borrowed desk in the library at the Nightshade Pack’s main lodge—courtesy of an invitation from the alpha and his mate—all I want to do is set the entire damn pile on fire.

I shove a hand through my hair, glaring at the ancient texts like they’re personally responsible for the mess my life has become. Maybe they are. Because if what I’m reading is true, then I’m about to have a whole new problem.

One I don’t want and sure as hell didn’t ask for.

Oscar sits across from me, arms crossed, watching me with his usual mix of patience and amusement. Kylie lounges on the chesterfield couch, flipping a dagger between her fingers like she’s waiting for me to break first.

“Tell me again why you suddenly care about Windrider legends?” Oscar asks.

I glare at him. “I’ve always cared about Windrider legends.”

Kylie snorts. “Bullshit; you rarely lock yourself in a room and go full scholar mode unless you’re avoiding something. Or someone.”

I slam a book shut and level her with a look. “I’m researching. Not avoiding.”

Oscar arches an eyebrow. “Researching what, exactly?”

My fingers tighten around the leather-bound book in front of me. Everything.

I don’t say that, of course. Instead, I flip the book open to the passage that’s been haunting me since I found it. “This.”

Kylie sits up, stretching lazily before swinging her legs over the edge of the sofa. “Let’s hear it.”

I skim down the page, reading aloud.

‘It is said that among the Windriders, there are rare wolves bound not by choice, but by fate. The soulbound. Those called by the land itself. When the earth begins to fracture, when the balance shifts, these wolves will find each other, drawn by forces older than time itself.’

I glance up.

Kylie looks unimpressed. Oscar frowns. “That sounds like a story meant to scare children into behaving.”

I tap the page. “Keep reading.”

The bond must not be ignored. It cannot be undone. The longer the wolves fight it, the stronger it becomes, until finally?—’

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