Darcy Branwyn

Songs from my playlist: Breed. My female werewolves will instinctually test males to be sure they have—clears throat—what it takes to keep up with them. While Vesper could morph into a wolf and kill Nick, she won’t mate with him until he’s proven he can stand up to her.  

…“What are you doing?” Vesper asked.

“Trying to feed you.”

 “I can feed me just fine.”

“No, you’re going to sit down and watch me make an idiot out of myself.”

“You don’t cook?”

“Nope.”

She held out her hand for the bowl but he held it back. “I said, no. Now sit.”

She growled. He growled back, not as impressive as her but at least he wasn’t afraid to get into her face and challenge her.

Oh, God, yes.

“Go,” he said. Ordered.

She looked him over, lifting her brows. Make me.

Nick calmly set aside the bowl. He turned, taking her around the waist and carrying her across the room, then depositing her onto the couch. He leaned over her, one hand to either side of her hips, his face in hers.

“Stay,” he commanded.

She wanted to, but she wasn’t ready to trust him yet.

Nodding nicely, she waited for him to back away, then she lunged at him, getting into his face and showing her teeth. She grunted with surprise as he took hold of one of her wrists, backing her against the wall, his other hand strategically between her head and the stone so that she wouldn’t get hurt.

He pulled her face to his and kissed her, confined between his hard, unyielding warmth and the wall. He tipped her face to one side, nudging her jaw open with his tongue and kissing her more deeply. She felt herself yielding under it, letting him keep her there, pinned, kissing her as hard as he wanted. He pulled back finally but kept her trapped between his arms. She knew her eyes were black and her face subhuman. She clamped her jaw shut, breathing through her nose and fighting the age old instinct to inject him with her venom.

No. She wouldn’t give in to this compulsion.

Nick brushed her hair back with both hands, smiling gently now into her eyes.

“That’s better,” he breathed.

She kept her jaw clamped.

“But you’re still fighting me.”

“You know too much,” she gritted.

“I was raised around wild animals. I understand more than you think.” He watched her for a moment longer then backed away. “Maybe next time you’ll be ready for me.” He walked off.

She thought he was going into the kitchen to turn off the empty griddle; she could smell it smoking, but he went to the door instead. He was leaving her.

“I’m not through with you,” she said, crossing the room and slamming the door he’d just opened. “You don’t kiss me like that and then leave.”

He placed his hands on the door, one to either side of her head, crowding her against it. “Then what do you want me to do?”

Now that she had him she faltered, unwilling to reveal too much. “Danielle has both of you,” she said. She sounded like Julina. Sulky.

“And what do you get?”

A growl rose from the back of her throat. “His grave.”

Nick pressed closer, forearms now against the door, his face in hers. “What do you get?”

She squirmed but he wouldn’t let her go.

“What do you get?” he said again.

Damn but he was relentless. She turned her face to one side. Her breath was loud and short, her whole body on fire. She closed her eyes and listened to Nick’s heart pounding, smelled his scent heavy in the air around her. His body was pressing on her hard enough to bruise her had she been human.

“Vesper,” he whispered, his mouth against her ear. “I wouldn’t take Danielle back if she came begging.”

“I won’t share you,” she said.

“Then take me.”

The wolf in her wanted it. The woman was still wary. Everything about him was screaming to her. He had what she needed for her little pack, and she didn’t want to do this on her own anymore.

“Vesper,” he urged, his voice husky. “Make a choice.”

She growled, her teeth bared, fangs elongated. He let off of her and she struck blindly, her teeth sinking into his upper arm…

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