Page 15 of A Wolf of War
Eventually, the SUV turned off the main road and onto a dirt path that looked mostly forgotten, swallowed by overgrowth even when the winter was just now fading into spring. The trail was rough, littered with branches, but the vehicle navigated with ease.
“You okay?”
Her eyes flicked to Milo as he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. She realized she’d been holding him in a death grip. The further they drove into the dense, encroaching dark, the more the dread built in her stomach, like an approaching stormhead.
When the SUV finally rolled to a stop and he killed the engine, Willow glanced out her window to see a narrow opening carved into the trees beside her, a path winding into the dense forest. Her stomach twisted. It wasn’t fear that she was walking into an untimely death, but something almost more daunting—doubt.
Not about him.
Aboutherself.
“Ready?” Milo asked, his voice low as he lifted their still-clasped hands and pressed a kiss toher knuckles.
The intimate gesture ignited her entire body.
Willow could have thrown herself over the console and ripped his shirt open. Something primal and starved inside her howled for him. The flicker of arousal blew to a roar that engulfed her lower belly, and her breath hitched, shallow and fast.
“Yes,” she whispered.
They let go of each other with a brief reluctance, the absence of his touch immediately noticeable. Each climbed out of their side of the SUV, Willow stepping carefully onto the bar before lowering herself to the ground. Her body had always been unreliable, a little too fragile in places where she should have been stable. She treated herself gently, knowing too well how one wrong step would echo into the next day.
She stared at the trail ahead, uneven and dark, the forest blocking out all traces of light. This was her last chance to walk away from this madness. She could still say no.
But she didn’t want to. Even if she couldn’t explain it, even if Poppy’s voice screamed that it was reckless, she trusted Milo.
Trusted the steady way he looked at her like she was precious to him.
Trusted the way his fingers had curled around hers like a vow.
Trusted the way that, even now, he was gentle in his advances.
Milo brought a heavy backpack from the backseat and came to her side, his hand finding the small of her back like it had always belonged there.
And so she moved forward.
8
MILO
Willow was playing her part beautifully, slipping into place, unknowingly aligning herself with his plans. Everything was unfolding exactly as he had envisioned. If he could seal the bond tonight, she’d be his in every way that mattered. It all hinged on how she handled the confession.
Milo had never brought a human this close before. Very few were ever trusted with the knowledge that wolves like him walked their streets, passing unnoticed in plain sight.
It wasn’t just a secret. It wassacred.
Human mates were practically unheard of, though he’d heard stories from other packs, each ending depending on how the human half had received the news.
It was the timing that made things difficult, alongside his fierce need to have her by his side as quickly as possible. The bond could only be sealed beneath the full moon, when the air was thick with magic and their blood would run hot with instinct.
He also had to knot her, which wasn’t something you could do without warning.
Milo had one shot a month, and the clock was ticking. The anticipation clawed at his organs. He felt like he was bleeding internally. He couldn’t wait to bury his teeth in the soft, gentle curve of her neck, to mark her with something permanent and primal. To make her his—irrevocably,eternally.
Even with his reservations, Milo had no doubt she would comply. Willow was already halfway there, drawn to him in the way only fate could orchestrate. All he needed was the moon to reach her zenith, Willow’s acceptance, and then her sweet surrender. If his gut was right, she’d surrender her aching cunt to him without hesitation, take his knot like she was made for it, and let him ravage her.
Milo had taken the lead, subtly shifting their positions before stepping onto the trail ahead of her. He moved with effortless confidence, glancing back every so often to offer his hand, steadying her as she climbed over moss-slicked logs and the crumbling remains of forgotten stone walls. Each time she stumbled, he was there, promising that they had almost reached their final destination.
He could smell Arlo nearby, waiting, poised to move when Milo was ready. Titan and Lachlan would be in position, too, though their scent hadn’t reached him; they were upwind. The air had cooled off, and night had settled over the shadowy landscape. The moon cast silver beams through the thinning trees, blanketing the earth around them in an ethereal glow.
