Page 23 of Chased & Bred by the BRATVA
The gardens are half in shadow, half caught in the golds and pinks of sunset. Clara was right, they’re beautiful, in a wild, untamed kind of way. The air is cool against my cheeks, but Idon’t mind. I walk toward the treeline, not far enough to reach the woods, just enough to see them. Just enough to remember.
That’s when I feel him.
I don’t need to turn around to know he’s watching me. The same way he did that night. A slow, deliberate presence moving through the dark like he belongs to it.
“I thought you’d be downstairs longer,” I say without turning.
His voice is quiet. Closer than I expected. “I was there as long as I needed to be.”
I glance back at him, over my shoulder. He’s leaning against a tree, arms crossed, gaze fixed on me. There’s no menace in it. No warning.
Just hunger.
The air thickens between us.
I take a single step toward the trees, then another. I let my hand drift over the low branches, my fingers brushing leaves.
“Do you ever stop hunting?” I ask softly.
He smiles. Slow. Dangerous. “Not when the prey belongs to me.”
My heart kicks. The fire inside me igniting, filling my veins with thrill and heated desire.
I meet his eyes, step backward, deeper into the shadow.
He growls. Actually growls. “Careful, little rabbit.”
I smirk before spinning on my heels and dashing beneath the canopy of trees.
My heart pounds as I sprint toward the clearing, laughter caught in my throat. I hear him curse behind me, low and sharp, but there’s no threat in it. Just his insatiable hunger. His primal need.
The same need from that first night. But somehow different now.
Branches brush my arms, the earth springy beneath my steps. I slip past the treeline and veer toward the spot where the last bit of sunlight hits the clearing, where I first saw him step out of the dark.
And then I feel him.
The rush of air. The heat of his body.
He slams into me like a wave, spinning me against a tree, one arm banded around my waist, the other braced beside my head. He’s panting. I’m panting. The laughter dies in my throat as I stare up at him, my pulse racing like prey caught mid-sprint.
But I’m not scared. Not even close. His grey blue eyes hold something in there that makes me feel safe.
“You’re not fast enough to get away from me,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, his lips brushing mine as he speaks.
“I love it when you chase me.”
His mouth crushes mine before I can say another word. Not punishing, not desperate.
Claiming.
He kisses me like a man who knows I’ve given him everything and wants to give something back.
When he finally pulls away, he rests his forehead against mine, both of us breathless.
“I caught you again,” he murmurs.
I nod, smiling. “What are you going to do about it?”
