Page 36 of Hayden's Haven
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HAYDEN
The anger he had felt when he left camp disappeared as soon as Hayden had Mila in his arms. The way her body molded to his, and the certainty with which she circled her arms around his neck as if she belonged there—which she most definitely did—called to him and his wolf. Being here with her, holding her, was right. Yet she was still hiding from him.
“I haven’t had the best experiences with white wolves,” she said. Fear rolled off of her, pungent and bitter, similar to what he had smelled when he had found her. He hadn’t seen or smelled anyone other than her. She had heard a branch snap, but Hayden hadn’t snapped a single branch. Someone had been watching her.
Hayden placed a finger under her chin, encouraging her to look at him. Without fear, without hesitation, bright green eyes lifted. “I want you, Mila, and I won’t force or rush you. Do you understand?”
Tears began streaming down her face as she stood there, shaking from the cold and whatever she was trying so hard not to tell him.
He lifted her again and resumed walking back toward camp.
“Where are we going?” she asked when they had veered off the path, away from Aloe’s house.
“I think you know.”
“I’m not ready.”
“You think I’m going to throw you down on my bed, strip you bare, and sink my cock into you when you’re cold, wet, and confused?”
Silence.
He inhaled slightly. At least he hadn’t scared her, which meant he had either shocked her or she was considering the idea. Either way, he wouldn’t allow her to return to Aloe’s. He didn’t like the idea of her being in that house alone. Maybe that was just an excuse because he needed to hold her a while longer. He only knew he wasn’t ready to let go of her.
With his foot, Hayden pushed the door to his cabin open, then slammed it shut again. The air inside was nearly as cold as outside. Mila was shivering. He needed to get a fire going.
He set her down on the bed, then found a clean towel and a long-sleeve shirt for her to change into. “Shower’s back there. Get out of those wet clothes and warm up. Your lips are turning blue. I’ll get the fire started.”
She nodded and headed toward the bathroom. His Mila was too quiet. Something was definitely bothering her.
He heard the shower running as he stacked logs and added kindling. The fire was slow starting. Hardly the roaring fire he had hoped to warm up the cabin, but it would have to do. After he spread her wet clothing by the fire to dry, he rooted around his cabinets for coffee or tea. He was low on supplies, as usual.
The girls he dated always seemed to bring their own food, as if they all knew he didn’t have much to offer them, at least not in his kitchen. Strong shifter genes was what they all wanted. Blood-bonding a second was a sure way of climbing the shifter social ladder, even if the shifter was still seen as a traitor.
That’s why the weak ones sought him out, and he accepted. They were willing to look past his history and in turn, he was willing to look past their weak genes. Blood-bonding them would weaken his abilities while raising theirs, but he’d have a mate, if and when he ever accepted one. Only none of them had ever kept his interest long. Now he understood why. None of them had been Mila.
Hayden withdrew the tin of hot chocolate. He boiled water and poured it into a mug with the chocolaty granules. The smooth, clean scent of lilac wafted through the air. Even if he hadn’t scented her approaching, he could feel her standing behind him, just watching him. She wasn’t running from him.
“I know you’re behind me, Mila. I can smell your delicious scent, and my mind is torturing me with the possibilities.”
“What possibilities?”
“That you’re standing there nude, waiting for me to take you.”
“You assume too much,” she said, her voice a curious mixture of annoyance and intrigue, but no fear. No, his Mila didn’t fear him.
“Then you’re in my shirt, wearing my scent, a true sign that you’re mine and you’re finally willing to admit it.”
“No,” her raspy voice replied as her breath hitched ever-so-slightly.
Ah, definitely not annoyed.
“Then you’re wearing the towel, like a shifter who stands in the middle of a raging river, not sure which way to jump, which way is safe. Only there is no safe choice with me, Mila. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but one day soon, I’ll rip that towel from you, pin you up against a wall, and slide into you, fucking you rough and hard while you dig your heels into my ass, begging me for your release. You are mine, Mila, and nothing will prevent me from claiming you.”
The smell of her arousal filled the air. He clamped his hands against the counter, fighting the need to turn around. He knew if he turned around, that he would take her.
A soft hand smoothed down his back, and to his utter surprise, her arms circled his chest as she rested her head against his back. He covered her hand with his own, feeling the change in her as she peeled away that outer layer, so he could see the shifter within. Softness. Compassion. And fear, though not of him, not directly.
