Dark Slayer

She nuzzled against the heavy muscle of his chest, loving the feel of his strength and the depth of his response to her touch. With deliberate intent she stroked her tongue over his pounding pulse, wanting that Zen-like calm to go up in flames. She needed to know-absolutely know-that he not only wanted but needed her with the same growing intensity that she did him. She couldn't be alone in this desperate need.

His hand pressed her head closer, a silent command to take his offering. She did another slow swirl of her tongue just to hear that deep male groan, to feel the jump of his pulse and the hammering of his heart. She let the fire take her, sweeping up through her feminine channel to her belly and breasts, while her teeth lengthened and she drew the scent of him into her lungs.

He whispered something low and guttural, the sound more important to her than the words. His fingers were magical in her hair and against her scalp, the nape of her neck, and one hand swept over her buttocks, pressing tightly as he half lifted her. The strength in his body matched that of his will and she couldn't help the feminine thrill at the feeling of his hardness against her softness.

She took a breath, savoring the moment of exquisite lust wrapped with terrible love so sharp it pierced her heart. Then she sank her teeth into his body, connecting them in the way of lifemates. Richness spilled into her. Every cell soaked him up, took him inside. The taste of him burst against her tongue like fizzing bubbles.

Razvan gave another throaty moan, even sexier than the first one, the sound vibrating through her body, adding to the swirling mix of emotions welling up with her physical reaction to him. He moved her like no other could, getting under her skin and into her bones and now, the addictive taste of him nearly made her lose all perspective. She needed him, right there in the middle of nowhere with snow on the ground.

Not our first time. Our first time together I want to have hours with you, not a few minutes with our pack surrounding us and with danger at every turn.

Even his denying her was sexy. The velvet voice, the slow heat, the stark need he didn't try to hide from her. She let herself take one last taste and then she swept her tongue across the pinpricks and simply stood, letting his strength hold her up when her entire body was trembling.

«You are right,» she said with regret.

«We need to go home soon.» He whispered the words in her ear.

She liked the sound of that. More, she loved the husky note in his voice that told her he was every bit as shaken as she was. For an answer, she circled his neck with her arms and just held him, just absorbed him into her.

The pack grew restless, circling them and nudging at their legs in inquiry. Ivory found herself smiling. «The children are growing impatient, as children do.»

To her consternation his hand slid down to her abdomen and rested there, fingers splayed wide. «You will look so beautiful with our child in you, should we ever manage to destroy our enemy.»

Ivory had never considered the possibility of a child. Her entire life had been devoted to one thing-ridding the world of an evil monster. The idea that she might have a lifemate and a child, that she could someday live with a semblance of normalcy, shocked her. She wasn't entirely certain she could handle it.

Razvan laughed softly and leaned down to feather his lips lightly over hers. «Do not worry, my little warrior. There will never be normal for either of us, but we will make our own rules and our life will suit us just fine.»

«Let's get this done then,» Ivory said.

CHAPTER 13

Mikhail Dubrinsky greeted Razvan and Ivory from his long, wraparound verandah. The house was large, nestled in the trees, blending into the forest so well that Ivory knew with a certainty that most people would never spot it unless the prince eased the safeguards around it. She was dressed in her warrior garb, with the wolves riding her body as tattoos. She preferred that to having him look too closely at her pack. Razvan stayed close to her, just a step behind, as if he was her guard, rather than her partner. She had tried twice to lag in her step to force him to walk beside her, but once Razvan made up his mind about something, nothing stopped him.

«Good evening,» Mikhail said. «Sivad olen wakeva, han ku piwta-may your heart stay strong, hunters,» he added in a more traditional greeting.