Branded by Fire

As for the changelings, the chairman truly had no disagreement with them, but they couldn’t be allowed to keep getting in the Alliance’s way. Tonight they’d pay the price for their interference – let’s see how they liked being helpless for a change.

Raising his hand almost compulsively, he touched the chip at the top of his spine, currently covered by the stiff collar of his suit jacket. It was a modified version of the chips worn by the soldiers. Too bad Bowen and his team had had the beta versions – unlike the men who’d gone after Councilor Krychek. The chairman felt sadness, but he was resolved. This was a war. And those men had died in battle. They were heroes.

Chapter 48

Riley knew Mercy was up to something, but couldn’t figure out what. As he drove her home, he tried to think like a cat. His cat. It was close to impossible. She never did anything predictable.

"Do you have to return to the den tonight?"

He shook his head, his blood heating. "No. I planned to talk my way into your bed."

"Talk?"

"Maybe push."

Laughing, she fell silent again. He decided to let her be, and by the time he brought the car to a stop near her place, he thought she might be close to asleep. "Kitty cat?" He brushed his fingers down her cheek, needing to touch her, to reassure the wolf she was still there, that she hadn’t chosen the ties of Pack over those of mating.

"Come on, wolf," she said, sounding not the least bit drowsy, "I’ve got something to show you."

Curious, he got out of the car and walked alongside her as she took him deep into the night-dark of the forest she called home. It was peaceful, and perhaps, if his senses had been human, quiet. But he could hear the scurrying of forest creatures as they went about their business, the whistle of the wind through the treetops, the sound of his mate’s unbound hair sliding against her back.

Reaching out, he ran a hand over that shimmering fire, enthralled all over again. "Where are you taking me?" Not that it mattered. His need to simply be with her was so strong, he’d walk through the forest forever if that was what she wanted.

"You’ll see." Smiling, she picked up the pace.

Fifteen minutes later, they emerged into a glade screened by the mist of a waterfall he knew would shimmer with rainbows in sunlight. But the moon ruled the night, and its rays reflected off the water to cast a silvery glow over the lush vegetation. Things glittered to his night vision, fascinating and wild, even as ultrafine droplets whispered over his skin.

Mercy walked behind him as he stood soaking in the beauty. Not saying a word, she wrapped her arms around his waist, her cheek pressed to him. He realized then that she’d shown him a secret place, given him a present wrapped in the intrinsically generous nature of her spirit. His heart tightened to the point of pain, and then the pain spread out in a wave of indescribable warmth.

Closing his hand over hers, he said, "Thank you."

She nipped at him, but it was playful. Her purr was something else altogether. Fingers dancing up his shirt, she tugged at the buttons. "Off."

He was more than happy to oblige. She peeled it off from behind and dropped it to the ground, then said, "Everything else."

Smiling at the command, he decided he had nothing to lose by obeying. And everything to gain. She didn’t change position even when he was naked, his skin gleaming in the moonlight.

Fingers running down his spine, skating lower, then back up. This time, she spread her hands and stroked, petted, caressed until he felt a light sweat break out over his body. As he waited, held in place by her pleasure, she pressed a kiss to the part of his back closest to her. "I like the way you’re built, Riley. All hard and solid and bitable."

Every dominant instinct he had urged him to take control. But something else, another set of instincts, pulled him back. If his mate wanted to tease him to insanity, that was her right. And, difficult as it was to restrain his wolf, he liked this, liked knowing his mate found him attractive.

Teeth grazing over his back. "Beautiful."

"Come here." A husky request.

"Not yet." But she stroked her hands up his body and pressed herself to him. She was still completely dressed.

"I want skin."

Hands gliding over his arms, testing his muscles. "And I want to pet you."

The wolf was a master negotiator. "You can do it as much as you want if you take off your clothes."

Soft feminine laughter. "It’ll torture you."

"I like being tortured by you." Damn if it wasn’t the truth. "Mercy, kitty cat."

Claws digging into his skin. "I’m still not sure I like that nickname."

"Tough." When dancing with a leopard female, the trick, he’d realized, was to give a little, but never too much. "You’ll get used to it."

Those claws didn’t release. "Or maybe I’ll peel the skin from your bones."

Playing, he thought in wonder, his mate was playing with him. "I didn’t realize you liked to talk dirty in bed."

She laughed then and the claws were retracted, his unbroken flesh kissed over by soft feminine lips, flicked by a tongue he wanted to feel on every part of his body. God, when she’d gone down on him . . . his head had about exploded. Now his c**k twitched, eager. Shuddering, he felt her draw back, heard the soft susurration of her shedding her clothes . . . but not her boots.

His entire body turned into one big flame.

He expected her to press herself up against him again, but she came around to face him instead. Groaning, he raised a hand to cup the lush heaviness of her breast. "You’re the one who’s beauti – " The word ended in a growl as she closed her fingers around his erection and pumped once. "Mercy!" His hands were in her hair, and his mouth on hers before the shout ended.