Page 25 of Siren's Kiss & Feral Beasts
“Run, little treasure.”
“W-what are you?—”
“Ten, nine, eight…” Before I get to seven, she bolts. Her dress flares around her thighs as she races down the street, heading in the direction of her house. Hair whipping. Hips swaying. The game of chase is exquisite, and I plan to indulge myself.
I’ve never touched a woman. Never felt the urge to break my vow to my goddess-given mate, but the way I react to her, I know she’s mine. The same way she leans into me and softens at the sound of my purr is all the proof I need.
“We’ll get the stone tomorrow,” I say, stretching my neck side to side. “Tonight…we hunt.”
My wolf’s agreement comes in the form of a rippling awareness. Contentment.
I’ll pick it up tomorrow before breakfast and explain.
I give her a small head start while my wolf stretches, savoring the trail of her scent and the unhidden arousal I plan to drown in. He agrees with me. It’s there in the heightening of my senses and the coiling of my muscles, my weight shifting forward as we prepare to give chase.
Moreover, she gets as far as the end of the street before I give in to my impulses and half-shift. My clawed feet dig into the ground while I lick a fang, inhaling roughly before taking off after her.
And the moment I do, she looks back, nearly stumbling but rights herself as another delighted sound leaves the back of her throat. Not a scream. No fear. My female is excited.
And the faster she runs, pumping those lithe legs, the more I slow my gait. She’s so much smaller than I am, and for every three of her steps, I take one, and she’s never out of my view. Businesses give way to a winding road, and there’s nothing on either side of us. Just grass, some patchy areas of sand, a small playground for those who have children here, two wooden ramps that lead to beaches?—
Her home comes into view.
There’s a small porch light on, its glow giving the front of her home some warmth, but she doesn’t head inside. Instead, she bypasses the cottage and heads toward the back. More precisely, the jungle behind it. It’s different than what you’d find in the southern or western sea, a denser forest, but the tropical vegetation here grows wild and heavy—palms, broad-leaf trees, and flowering vines that thrive in this damp heat.
It's darker now as she slips inside; the sun has fully set, and the varying shades of purple and orange have slowly become a dark blue. Almost black. A clear night, except for the sea of stars guiding her tiny steps past the thick tree line.
I stop at the edge a few seconds later.
While my wolf follows her every move, the way she dodges overgrown roots, I send a final mindlink to Torren on the ship.
Do not contact me unless it’s an emergency. I’ll be back at dawn.
Through the pack bond, I feel the weight of his unasked question, but Torren’s trust outweighs his curiosity. If nothing else, he’s loyal. Trustworthy.
Yes, Alpha. Enjoy your night.
Cutting the link, I lick my lips and catch traces of her desire. It’s softer now; the breeze coming off the nearby water marksit with its salty brine, but I like the combination. The sea has always felt like home, even if I never spend time inside of it.
Wolves travel through, but never bathe in it. Sirens aren’t to be trusted, and their king is a joke who hides beneath the water. The entire royal family does, including the future heir.
“You’re slower than I imagined,” she whispers, a coquettish lilt to her tone, and I laugh at the slight mock. We both know it wouldn’t take much to subdue her, but I love the playfulness. Let her believe she has the advantage.
“What’s your name, beautiful?” I call out, stalking her slowly like the predator I am while the jungle welcomes us. Humid and alive, its shadows curl around each tree. Every leaf, every rustle…it’s the perfect backdrop as I follow her deeper into its cradle. She’s a few minutes ahead of me, and yet easy to find.
Every gasp, every quick glance over her shoulder—her laughter that rings and reverberates—feeds my hunger. Branches scratch at her calves and leaves cling to her sweat-slick skin, but she doesn’t care or stop. If anything, it’s a challenge to push harder and see how long it’ll take for me to catch her.
Those giggles will be my complete undoing.
This foreplay: a delicious game that taunts and teases until one of us snaps will have her marked before the sun rises.
Because there’s no mistaking who will snap first.
We have the rest of our lives to get to know one another.
Tomorrow, when the sun rises and I wake her with my tongue, I’ll ask questions and answer her, but for tonight, I plan to let the wolf have full rein. Because our animals aren’t ruled by logic, but instinct, and every single one of mine is pulling me in her direction. Who and what she is doesn’t matter.
I pick up my pace, muscles taut and senses alive. The distance between us closes, the tip of my black-tipped claw skims the back of her arm, and the squeal of delight she emitscauses my knot to throb. For my cock to give a harsh jerk, and the head slips out of the half-closed zipper.
