Page 21 of Blade's Battle
Oh, he liked the idea of her begging, though for something other than his pardon. But definitely not while wearing that cursed shirt. She should be wrapped in silk, or the softest cotton, anything but that shifter’s scent. Better yet, nothing at all, bare as a shifter after a run.
Except she wasn’t a shifter. He could never blood-bond her, not without weakening himself, and then where would he be? Of no use to Damien and his pack. A scout needed to be able to shift and run fast, to see at night and in poor weather, to hear the nuances of his environment, to track their enemies.
Blood-bonding a human meant becoming the weakest of the weak. Only the weakest of shifters who had nothing to lose, except perhaps their dignity, would consent to blood-bonding a human.
Damien would never kick him out, not outright, but his pack wouldn’t need him anymore. They’d have no use for him, and he’d be a drain on resources. It’s not like he was born of their pack. He’d brought a wounded Callen home and that had earned him a place there. A ‘thank you’ essentially. He’d worked hard every day to prove himself and secure a place in his pack, his new family. No, he couldn’t lose that.
“That shifter’s scent is all over you,” Blade explained as she pulled away from him. “I want to smell you, not him. Take the shirt off.”
“I can’t do this. You’re... you’re not Kurt.”
* * *
ANNA
Blade confused her. He didn’t like humans, but he couldn’t take his eyes—and now his hands—off of her. Did she come across as easy? She’d dated Kurt for six months before they’d gotten serious, and then it was another six months before he’d proposed. She looked down at her ring finger. The tan line had disappeared with all those weeks. . . months? in the cave. Drake had stripped her ring from her like he tried to strip everything else from her, including her self-worth.
Anna stood up and turned her back to Blade, leaving him lying on the ground, his shoulder still bleeding from the bullet wound. What the hell was she doing out here? Letting Blade hold her, even carry here had felt safe, and it had been practical since her feet were so torn up. But this here—kissing Blade—that was wrong.
And yet part of her wanted it.
No, it was just that he made her feel safe. That was the only reason she’d kissed him back.
“I’m sorry, Anna,” Blade said from behind.
“You’re not Kurt,” she repeated, not even sure why. It was a stupid thing to say. Kurt was dead, and Blade never tried to be like her husband. He didn’t know anything about Kurt.
“No, I’m not. Whoever he was to you, he must have been special though.”
She massaged her ring finger as she nodded. She didn’t know what to say about Kurt, aboutkissingBlade. “C-can we go now? To the pack you mentioned?”
She wanted to get away from the river, from the bank where Blade had kissed her, causing a storm of emotions she didn’t understand and quite frankly didn’t want to understand.
Before Blade could even answer her, or tell her what direction to go, Anna started walking, the need to push her weaknesses and insecurities into the past. She’d kissed him. Or he’d kissed her. She wasn’t sure at this point, not that it mattered. There couldn’t be anything between them. It wasn’t fair to Kurt.
Kurt’s dead. I killed him.
And she’d nearly gotten Blade killed too. Those snipers had been shooting at her, not him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Anna replied as she walked downriver. She didn’t look back or slow her pace, despite the throbbing in her feet. Swimming in the cold river had felt good, numbing the pain. Now that they were back on twig and stone-laden land, the pain had returned with a vengeance. That wonderful, toe-curling kiss had made her forget the pain, the horrid shirt, and her time in captivity.
No, it was time to start being honest with herself. That delicious, spine-tingling kiss had made her forgetKurt, for just a bit, and that scared her. She didn’t want to forget him.
“Then why won’t you look at me,” Blade asked.
She stopped so suddenly that he side-stepped and grabbed hold of her waist to keep from knocking her over. Even allowing his arm to curve around her felt like a betrayal.
“Look at me,” Blade said as he swung in front of her, leaving very little room between their bodies.
“This is a mistake,” Anna said, fighting the urge, theneed, to lean into him. She was mistaking safety for something more. Blade was the shifter who had rescued her, who had protected her and continued to watch over her. Of course, she’d feel something for him. He represented everything she needed right now. Safety and a sense of hope that she’d escape these woods and Drake’s shifters.
But not the WSSO. They’d still find her.
“Are you sure?” Blade leaned in so close she could feel the tiny puffs of his breath on her neck as he scented her up the length of her neck to right behind her ear. Her nipples tightened into hard peaks and brushed against the flannel. The fact that she could feel such desire while wearing that shifter’s shirt disgusted her.
The moment she tensed, Blade thrust his hand through his hair, cursing under his breath as he walked off, a look of rejection on his face as plain as day. It seemed like she couldn’t say or do anything right lately. It was just as well. Blade had made his feeling about humans clear.
“I think we both know there’s nothing really between us,” Anna said as she trailed behind him. He was weaving as he walked, no doubt from the pain of having a bullet in his shoulder. His wolf wouldn’t heal him as long as that bullet was in him.
