Chapter Nine
Darius’s Pov
I hated the way Belinda’s hands clung to me; her fingers trailing over my arm sensually. Each touch made my skin crawl with irritation. The way she laughed and leaned too close was suffocating.
But I had to endure it.These wolves already thought of me as a demon, but having at least one female clinging on to me made them look away.
So I allowed it sometimes but right then, I was fed up, my wolf was at his wits end and the last thing I needed was for him to take over right in that stifling ball room.
I had to leave immediately.
I muttered something about needing air, stopping her from following me outside as I quickly walked away. I could feel her misty eyes behind my back but I couldn't care.
The night air whipped at my face but beneath it clung a distinct scent. I couldn't place my hand on it but my wolf, Storm, began jumping around, agitated. The scent washed over my nostrils and I found myself inhaling it deeply, losing my mind to it.
I realized it was a mix of citrus and vanilla, rich and sweet.
It curled into my lungs, so overwhelming that it left me dizzy. My wolf lunged towards it immediately, snarling with intense desire. He wanted me to find its source immediately.
I froze, as I had never smelled anything so beautiful; my nose flared, sharpening every sense within me. My feet carried me across the courtyard, down the dim-lit path of the northern border, chasing the sweetness like my life depended on it.
I noticed the guards exchanged glances when I arrived, but I ignored them as I rushed to the bloodied figure that lay crumpled on the ground.
Without thinking, I strode forward and bent down, sliding my arms beneath her slight frame. At that moment, no one else mattered, the world around me faded anly thing in my head was the word my wolf chanted in excitement.
“Mate! We must save mate!”
‘Great, you're now speaking like a neanderthal,’ I thought as I moved back to my room despite all the disturbances on the way.
I just needed a moment with her, because if anyone else found out what I was suspecting, she would be hurt for real, she wouldn't need to pretend anymore.
I watched her wounds struggle to heal, she was stopping her wolf; it physically hurt me to watch her in pain.
“Why are you doing this to yourself? At least allow your wolf to heal you, I've already told them I can heal you and if by morning you're not, you'll be taken to the infirmary. You don't want that, do you?”
Another breath escaped, this one deeper and more deliberate than the last. Her fingers shifted against the blanket, curling and uncurling as though sensation was only then returning to them.
She played it well, I could give her that.
My wolf snarled at me, raged that I thought the worst of her, and raged harder that I dared hold back the fire clawing to claim her.
“Slow down, Storm,” I ordered, “We need to figure out why she's doing this. Mate or not, she could still be a threat. I doubt a spawn of the Zareen would be in this pack with great intentions.”
“It doesn't… matter! We must claim mate! Protect mate!” He snarled, insistent.
I knew he wouldn’t listen to me as he surged forward in me, urging me to close the space between us, to press my scent into her skin.
The bond thrummed like a wildfire, and for a moment, I almost let it carry me.
Almost.
But I forced steel into my spine. For years I’ve had to master the act to suppress my wolf no matter how strongly his instincts burned. It was one of the most difficult things I'd had to do. My wolf was a black beast of immeasurable power and it pained me to have to restrict him, limit his abilities to a level that wouldn't threaten the people I protected.
On the surface I was calm and unreadable but inside of me, turmoil reigned. Inside, Storm howled for her, demanded for her touch, for me to go closer and drown in that delicious scent she carried.
“Mine” he growled again, then in a soft, whiny rumble that brushed against my thoughts like a caress, he added “Our fiery kitten.”
A rough chuckle broke out inside our bond. “You’re so pathetic,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Drooling over a girl whose name we don’t even know.”
He pressed harder, shoving her images into my mind. “Name or No Name, She is ours. Claim her.”
I bristled at my wolf’s weak attempt at manipulation. He thought that if he howled loud enough, I would give in, and damn all the progress we'd made to hell over the beautiful woman still pretending I'd not caught her in the act.
Still I couldn’t stop my gaze from sliding all over her. To the way her black hair spilled across the pillow like ink, to the faint rise and fall of her chest, to the stubborn tension in her mouth even as she lay still.
My eyes lingered too long, tracing her features in spite of myself, studying the shape of her lips, then with the faintest shift, her eyelid. It’s the most beautiful I have ever seen, the lids were drawn shut in perfect lines.
Her lashes trembled. I froze, only then realizing how close I had gotten. My hand was already lifted, hanging there like it meant to touch her face. I hadn’t even noticed myself moving.
Her eyes began to open slowly. And when her gaze locked on mine, it felt like a strike to the chest. I wanted to stare into those green and obsidian pools for the rest of my life.
“What’s your name?” I asked, bending down to sit next to her on the bed, her eyes still fixated on mine.
She cleared her throat while trying to sit upright on the bed. I reached out a hand without thinking, but she ignored it, brushing me off like my hand was offensive.
My wolf mewled at the rejection and I could sense him blaming me again but I wasn't about to listen to him.
“What is a Shadow Glen Pack member doing in the Blue Moon pack?” I asked, “The last time someone spoke about your pack, they said you all are dead. But here you are.”
I expected a reaction from her but she didn’t give any at all except for the way her fingers curled against the blanket, betraying nerves she won’t let me see.
“I’m Iris, a rogue seeking refuge,” she murmurs.
I cursed under my breath. She was still feigning ignorance and pretending she didn't know I'd caught her red handed.
“Rogue? Only one bloodline can perfect unconsciousness? You think I haven’t pieced together the bloodline you’re so desperate to keep buried? I know exactly what you are.” I leaned closer, close enough to feel the heat of her breath.
“I don't know what you're talking about,” she hissed, both in pain and anger.
I'd had enough, I wasn't making any progress with her and frustration was building up in my veins.
“Rest while you can,” I said as I stood up. “Tomorrow, we will figure out what comes next. But know that I can't help you if you don't admit the truth.”