Bound by the Night (Bound #4)(18)
Author: Cynthia Eden

But she’d seen the darkness in him.

Latham had only wanted her blood. Her power. He hadn’t cared about peace. The werewolf enjoyed his violence and death too much for that.

I would have put him down. She’d planned to kill him, but Latham had struck first. He couldn’t kill her, because then he’d never get the blood he wanted from a corpse. And if he let her live, then he’d known she would attack him.

So he’d decided on a compromise.

Bastard.

“Iona?” Jamie eased closer to her. “We should get out of here. Latham knows this is where you were going when you left Oregon.”

“And he’s coming.” No surprise. “When Michael caught the werewolf scent in the air, he thought you were just one of Latham’s army.”

You thought wrong, Michael.

She rolled her shoulders. Weariness beat at her. She’d driven so far, non-stop, and Iona always felt drained whenever she used her fire and magic.

She risked a look up into Jamie’s bright stare and knew he could see her weakness.

“You need to rest,” he told her.

True, but not likely.

But when he offered his hand to her, Iona found herself stepping forward and actually clasping his fingers. So many had betrayed her over the years, but…some had been her true friends. Christine. Iona could still see her so clearly in her mind. Her warm smile. Her perfect, dark skin. Her kind eyes. “Latham killed my family.”

“And mine.” Fury vibrated in his words. She could understand that rage. It was no wonder he wanted vengeance against Latham.

They were outside of the gate now. A big, black truck waited for them. She frowned at it for a moment.

Jamie laughed softly. “Ah, love, did you really think I ran all the way after you?”

Love? It was the second time that he’d called her that. She’d just been baby before. But Iona pushed the thought aside as he guided her to the vehicle. Her legs wanted to go limp, so she slumped inside, sinking into the soft seat.

She would go with the werewolf, for now. She could always slip away from him later. She could slip away any time that she wanted.

In seconds, Jamie was in the truck with her. With a flick of his fingers, he started the ignition, and they left the heavy, stone walls behind them. Iona squeezed her eyes shut.

“I would have…brought you here,” Jamie said, voice hesitant. “You didn’t have to leave me.”

“I brought myself here.” She could protect herself. She’d never needed anyone else to fight her battles. Still didn’t. “And maybe I was tired of being used.” Because he was using her, too. She knew it. Wasn’t it always about the blood?

My blood. My power. The werewolves just kept wanting it.

“Iona—”

“I want to shower.” To wash away the ash on her skin. To wash away the death. She forced her eyes to open, and Iona glanced at him. “Find the nearest hotel or just…just find me a safe place.”

A muscle jerked in his jaw, but Jamie gave a grim nod. He didn’t speak again during the ride, and Iona was glad because the ghosts from her past—the vampires she’d lost—their memories were screaming at her as she left her home behind.

***

She was hurting. Not a physical pain. Jamie had checked Iona’s body thoroughly and found no sign of wounds.

Her pain went far beneath the surface.

Iona was in the shower, the water pouring down with a heavy thunder that he could hear clearly through the gleaming door.

He had found her a safe place. Not some pay-by-the-hour dump. She’d deserved better than that. The woman was a queen, and he’d gotten her the best room he could afford. Five freaking stars.

He wanted to do anything and everything he could in order to make her pain go away. She’d seen enough pain, more than he’d ever expected.

I want her to be happy.

“I know you’re there…” Her voice drifted to him. Not a yell, just a whisper. That was all she needed to do…whisper, and his wolf could hear her. “Come inside, Jamie.”

His body hardened at the invitation. Hell, he’d already been hard, from the moment they entered the hotel. Iona had started to strip. Then she’d walked away. Shut the door. Closed him out.

But, now…she was inviting him inside…

He didn’t need to be invited twice.

Jamie nearly ripped the door off the hinges when he rushed into the bathroom.

The shower was huge. Easily bigger than the little house Sean had found for them back in Oregon. The place was lined with granite. Some kind of stone bench was in the shower, and, in that shower, two different jets of water poured from opposite walls to slide down over Iona’s naked body.

She stood just behind the glass door. Steam drifted around her. Her gaze met his, then she put her hand on the glass.

He could see the small birthmark on her palm. That mark had changed everything for her.

Jamie didn’t remember crossing the room, but suddenly, he was right in front of the shower door. His hand lifted and covered hers. Only that thin pane of glass separated his flesh from hers.

Her gaze met his. He could see the edge of her fangs peeking out from beneath her red lips.

“Will it be like before?” Iona asked him. “So much pleasure…it let me forget all the pain.”

Her words pierced deep into him. No more pain. Jamie lifted his hand. Stripped. Opened the door. Reached for her. His fingers skimmed over the silken flesh that had been heated by the pounding water. “This time, it will be even better.”

“Promises, promises…”

He noticed that some of the shadows had lifted from her gaze. So beautiful that she makes me ache.

His fingers curled around hers, and he bent to taste her. Mine. Her lips parted. Her tongue met his. There was no hesitation in her. Iona knew what she wanted, and she was taking it.

Jamie knew exactly what he wanted, too, and he’d be damned if he ever gave her up.

They were hungry from the start. Wild. Full of lust and need. Their kisses were hard, their tongues tasting. He’d never get enough of her. He never wanted to taste another woman. The taste would be bitter. But Iona…

Perfect.

Their hands were greedy and eager. Iona’s body was slick from the soap and water. Her fingers brushed over his chest. Over the old scars—some he’d gotten just as a child, long before he could shift and heal—that would always mark him.

Then…she slid down onto her knees before him.

Jamie hadn’t expected the move, and he tried to pull back. “You don’t need to—”