Chapter 28

Oz

The fluorescent light flickered above, casting a harsh glow on the peeling wallpaper and the old, chipped tiles. I breathed in, filling my nostrils with the warm, sweet scent of Stella. Her fingers trailed fire as the soft pads met the hard ridges of my abs.

I was a man unused to softness, unacquainted with gentleness. I"d had a hard-on for this woman since the first time I saw her back in the Crossroads. The erection was easy to ignore. What was happening in my chest with my heart beating erratically; what was going on at the back of my throat, where the rhythmic pounding of my pulse took over my voice; what was happening in my head, where I no longer remembered or cared about the reasons why this woman should not be touching me so intimately, why I should not reach for her in turn. All of that took a back seat.

All I could think of was how to be gentle in return. How to hold myself from tossing her up against the bathroom wall and sinking into that lush heat. How to keep my claws from piercing the honey-golden flesh peeking through her lacy bra. How to keep my incisors from nipping at the clit I knew had to still be plump after I"d played with it on the riverboat.

And that"s when she gasped and pulled away.

No shit, she"d pulled away. Because she"d probably heard me. She"d heard each of those dirty things I"d wanted to do to her and she was balking now. She finally realized that I wasn"t the man for a goddess like her.

"How did this happen?" she demanded.

Back in the shack, there hadn"t been much light. Now she saw them clearly. Now she saw the truth of my unworthiness. How had she let a foul creature such as me get anywhere near her soft skin? How had she let an unworthy beast get close enough to taste her flesh?

"She did this to you?"

There was a growl in her voice. A low rumble that made my panther sit back on its haunches and look up. Its tongue lolled out of its mouth as it regarded the object of its devotion.

Stella wasn"t looking into my eyes. She was looking at my abdomen. With her bare hands—and maybe a touch of magic—she tore apart my shirt to expose the rest of my ravaged skin.

I"d always been cautious about revealing my scars. Never fucked a woman with my shirt off. I doubt I"d even taken my pants all the way off. There"d never been a need, or a desire, to be naked with another person. Until now.

A little voice in my head told me to cover up, to hide my wounds. It was the voice of the scared cub I once was. It looked out through my eyes now at the anger on the face of the woman who reached a fingertip toward my ragged skin: five claw marks, the middle two just as deep as the others. She had wanted it to hurt.

"How"d she die?"

I inhaled deeply. The oxygen reached down deep into my belly, where the pain of my mother"s wrath still rested. The breath called it to stir. It was the cub that answered.

"She succumbed to the Call of the Wild."

"The sickness when the god of Arcadia went insane?"

I nodded instead of explaining the details of shifters being locked into their half-shifted animal forms for years. Even though the portal between Earth and Arcadia had been closed for decades during Pan"s insanity, a few Arcadians had managed to slip through the cracks between worlds. So the people here had heard of the strife we all went through but were powerless to do anything to help until a woman from this world got through to our world and our god.

With her unique beast, Adora had been the only being able to get through to Pan, the mad god of our world. Because she had been able to reach his heart the madness had healed not only him, but all of us. Their story showed proof that love moved mountains and healed monsters.

I realized I"d been holding myself stiff, bracing for a reaction of disgust or pity from Stella. It never came. What did come was that fingertip finally landing on the raised skin of my childhood wounds. Only to be jerked away just as quickly.

"Did I hurt you?"

I"d gasped at her touch. Better that than the moan that was now rising up my throat. The sad cub in my gut was long gone. In his place was a touch-starved panther who wanted to sink its teeth into this woman who constantly assaulted him with her gentleness and care.

My hands snaked out to snatch her wrists. My grip was firm. She had to understand there wasn"t much gentleness in me.

Stella stepped closer. Instead of just one finger, she set all five of one hand on my abdomen, covering the deepest of the scars. When she placed the palm of the other hand against the shallow end of the scars, I was undone. But she wasn"t finished.

In a gesture that took my breath away, she leaned in and kissed the wounds. Each kiss was a tingling whisper against my skin. I"d forgotten over the years that I was in pain. The pulls and tugs of the torn flesh had been nothing but background noise in my head, easy to ignore when I was more concerned about food, or shelter, or safety.

Now I looked down to see if she was using her magic to knit the skin back together. She wasn"t. Not with any witch"s magic. It was the power of her as a woman who thought I belonged to her.

I did belong to her. I was bound to her. I would do anything for her. If all she wanted was for me to bathe her, then that"s what she"d get.

The cramped bathroom, the rundown hotel, the noise and chaos of the settlement outside—it all faded away. There was only Stella and me. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close.

"No one will ever hurt you again," she vowed.

I pressed my lips into her hair. Up close, that warm, sweet scent of hers was an aphrodisiac. I was already high. I had an endless supply of her standing in my embrace.

Bending down, I turned on the faucet over the tub. A gentle rushing sound filled the room as the water splashed into its depths. It was inviting and soothing, like an embrace. Like the woman whose body I wanted to return to.

I went back to Stella and carefully removed her shirt, making sure not to let it slip from my grasp. She valued her clothing, and I didn"t want to risk damaging it. As I unclasped her bra, my mouth went dry, and I licked my lips in anticipation. Her caramel-colored nipples were exposed. A surge of desire took hold of me at the sight.

Her eyes met mine, and in that moment, there was no denying the intense chemistry between us. I pulled her closer to me. I trailed kisses along her jawline. Down her neck. She moaned softly and tangled her fingers in my hair, urging me on.

My hand slid down to the waistband of her pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them with ease. They fell to the ground, revealing her lacy underwear. I couldn"t resist running my hand over the soft fabric. Stella gasped and leaned into me, her body trembling. In one swift move, I lifted her up and carried her over to the bath.

There was a delighted grin on her face as she laced her fingers behind my neck. "Third time."

She didn"t need to explain. That was happening more and more. I knew she meant it was the third time I"d swept her off her feet.

I carried Stella"s weight with ease, her soft curves fitting perfectly against me as I lowered her into the warm bathwater. She sighed contentedly, leaning back and closing her eyes as the water enveloped her. I watched her with a tenderness that surprised even myself.

Leaning over her, I began to wash away the grime and dirt of our journey. My hands moved gently over her skin. The water shifted and rippled, reflecting the glow in her eyes as she looked up at me. Her trust in me was an unimaginable gift, the connection that hummed between us an invisible thread whose knot I felt tightening.

I did not resist.

"Is this a preview of what I can expect in palace life?"

The soap slipped from my hand. Her casual mention of looking forward to palace life, to being tended to in luxury, jolted me back to reality. Did I even have a tub in my quarters? I had no idea because I spent most of my time in a cabin at the edge of the palace grounds.

Dion aside, Stella was destined for a life of luxury. I couldn"t bear the thought of letting her go. My panther and I were in agreement—Stella was ours. But that acknowledgment came with a heavy burden, the knowledge that in keeping her with me, I would be holding her back from a life of royal splendor. She deserved to be a queen, not just the princess she was in my heart.

"I want you here with me, Oz. Get in the tub."

"No," I said, lifting her from the tub. "I"m taking you to bed."