Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 7510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 30(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 7510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 38(@200wpm)___ 30(@250wpm)___ 25(@300wpm)
My mind flashes to an image of that wolf who attacked us, his fangs and long nails disgusting, and I want to scream at the very idea of such a creature. That cannot be me. It cannot. I strip away my clothes and turn to eye my back in the mirror seeking proof the wolf cut me, but I find nothing. Maybe Eli is wrong. Maybe I wasn’t cut, but there is a strange vibrating sensation inside me that says otherwise. I feel different even if I look the same.
I walk to the shower and turn it on before twisting my hair on the top of my head into a knot a friend taught me years ago. Once I’m in the shower, I scrub and scrub until I’m raw. I want the wolf off me, but he’s inside me, and I know it. He’s a part of me, and I wonder if there is really a way to undo such a thing.
Suddenly I’m back in a memory, back in time:
It’s my wedding day, and the church is filled with people. My dress is long and white, lined with gorgeous lace that I’d never have afforded if Eli hadn’t bought it for me. “Anything for my future wife,” he’d declared. From the moment we met, Eli made me feel he’d do anything for me.
On my father’s arm, I walk down the aisle, nervous and excited to see Eli, where he’s waiting for me. Everyone is watching, and when my father hands me off to Eli, he smiles one of his handsome smiles, his blue eyes tender. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, caressing my face. I’m not wearing a veil. I wanted to see Eli, and him me, without obstruction.
We turn to face the preacher and he shifts into a wolf, his red eyes as terrifying as his sharp fangs. I scream, and Eli pulls me away. The wolf launches himself forward, into the crowd, slaughtering everyone he catches.
I’m screaming at the top of my lungs as Eli drags me out of the church. I jerk back to the present as he lifts me off the floor of the shower, where I’ve somehow landed. Once I’m on my feet, I’m aware of the tears streaming down my cheeks and why. I saw that wolf rip people’s throats out. I saw the blood, but worse, I felt his hunger for their flesh.
Eli wraps a towel around me, and I press myself against him, the heat of his body all that will warm me. He is my world, and I think that he has been for all my days. I glance up at him and say, “The wolf. I keep seeing the wolf.”
“That’s because he’s trying to own you,” he explains. “But he can’t take what is mine. And you are mine, Ivy.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Ivy
The wolf wants to claim me.
That idea isn’t an idea at all. It’s reality, truer than anything else has ever been in any lifetime I’ve lived. It’s more truth than was my death, clearly, since I’m alive right now.
“The wolf is inside me,” I say. “I feel it. We can’t fight it, Eli.”
He cups my face. “I killed it. It can’t have you.”
“It’s still alive in me. No matter how much we don’t want it to be true, it is.”
“I’ve got you. One way or another, I’ve got you. And you’ve got me.”
“It’s not going to work. It’s too strong already.”
“It will work.” Eli kisses me, and his tongue is silk on my frazzled nerve endings.
There is a war raging inside me, changes I do not understand, changes I reject but cannot seem to drive away, but his touch, the taste of him, just feeling him close, calms me, drives away that beast. I press closer to him, feeling his very essence slide through me, doing battle for me. His hands caress up my back and the towel falls away. I’m naked in his arms and it’s everything. The wolf is nothing.
He cups my breasts and I press my hand to his hand, holding it to me. Because his hands on my body affect me on a deep, soulful level, and right now, right in this moment, I know he needs me, too. The idea that he wants anything but us together again doesn’t exist. I don’t know what I was thinking, but that insecurity is no more.
His mouth is suddenly on mine, his tongue stroking me into sweet oblivion. That’s all it takes to unleash the woman in me. I need his body in a way I didn’t know I could need. I tug at his pants, needing him inside me. I think I say it. Maybe it’s my mind or maybe it’s words. I need you inside me.
“Holy hell, Ivy, you’re going to end me,” he murmurs, his voice low and raspy, and somehow, I’m against a wall. What wall? Do I even care? He fills his hands with my breasts, fingers teasing my nipples, and he’s kissing me—no, devouring my mouth.