Page 37 of Siren's Kiss & Feral Beasts
“Alpha, I’m fine,” he grits out, fingers stained crimson where he touched his side.
“You’re a piss-poor liar.” That earns me a snort that ends in another grimace. For a second, my gaze flicks to the other two pack members lying on the deck, the onboard doctor checking injuries.
One seems to be out cold, with a swollen knot near his temple, while the other has a gash on his cheek. It’s begun knitting together, the skin layers tightening, but the process is slow.
Both will be fine.
“Get them below,” I bark, and another crew member shifts from his duties of tying down supplies to helping pick one of the injured up, carefully throwing him over his shoulder.
“Should’ve killed the bastard before he pulled out his blade,” Torren groans low, and my head snaps to his. His expression is one of self-reproach. “I’m sorry, Alpha. I failed you.”
No. That’s my cross to bear.
“That kill belongs to me, Gamma, but I’ll give you a consolation prize once you’re back on your feet.” Torren looks like he wants to argue, but a low growl from me stills him. “You are of no use to anyone bleeding out. Do not be stubborn, my friend.”
His wolf rises, beast in his eyes, and they both nod, conceding the point. They also bare their neck in a show of respect.
“Otto, get him below deck and attend to him.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
As they make their way, careful not to further injure Torren, the ship moves away from the dock and into open waters. For a second, I close my eyes and enjoy the breeze and satisfying mist coming off the water until my wolf pushes against my skin again.
He wants control. To break free when behind closed lids, I see those gorgeous violet eyes. Remember running my fingers through her inky, black hair with the softest waves in each strand. How she came apart from my touch and cried out for more after each round.
In my thirty-three years walking this earth, nothing could’ve prepared me for her.
For the lightning bolt of need and hunger, the acceptancethat this slip of a girl now belongs to me. Man and beast want her. Throb for her.Nothing can change that.
I can still taste her on my tongue; this unique blend of salt and sweet that's currently licking at my flesh as if her essence were a whip, marking me. Owning me.
I hate her for what she’s done. Because—had she been honest—I would’ve given her the Cordis Lux and so much more.
I want her more than air, and it’s a truth that burns me until I’m choking on this sin.
She’s mine. There’s no changing that, and Goddess help me, I will never forsake her.
The town’s harbor fades behind us, and I grip the bottle still in my hand until my knuckles turn white. Until the glass cracks and shatters at my feet. A thousand tiny shards surround me, some producing cuts, but I couldn’t give a fuck as I watch the horizon for any sign of her.
Nothing. She’s gone.
And me? I’m left with no other option but to stand and then pace, repeating the action while rage cuts one way, and need the other.
It’s in those moments as the ship breaks through the waves and daylight turns to night that I make a vow to myself.
By fang and sea, I will find her and rip the truth from her sweet lips before reclaiming what’s rightfully mine…
But first, I need answers.
Days blur as the sea carries us home. While the crew tends to the wounded and daily shores, I steer and then pace. Then steer some more until it’s time to rest.
I’m a ticking time bomb. Set to go off, and haunted by my dreams.
She welcomes me into her arms every night when I close my eyes, her sweet tone carrying through the tides, while I awake with her name on my lips. I’m hard and throbbing, sweat slicking my skin, and the ache grows heavier with each day that passes.
A physical manifestation of missing one’s mate.
When Isle de Lobos rises from the horizon a few days later, my heart clenches tight for a different reason. This is home. My people, who I’ve let down.
