Chapter 9

9

The door thudded heavily against the frame as Rylan yanked it open. Under the rising moon, his instincts were sharpened, enhancing the possessiveness that surged through him. Gideon stood at the threshold. He gazed past Rylan, finding Liza, and his brows went up.

"What's going on, Rylan?"

There wasn't just Gideon on his doorstep. His brothers stood there too. At least Elijah and Caleb had the sense to stand back ten paces. Rylan was a wolf who had found, but not claimed, his fated mate. He was an Alpha on a tightrope.

"I've found my fated mate," Rylan growled, the rumble deep within his chest not just a declaration but a warning. "And I'm not letting her go." His words were barbed, laced with the ferocity of his wolf, which skirted just below the surface, barely restrained.

"Can I see her and—" Gideon had started to ask, but Rylan cut him off.

"She's mine."

Rylan was about to slam the door in his pack mates' faces when he saw what Gideon held in his hand. It held Liza's scent. Had the other wolves been tracking his mate? It didn't matter. He'd fight all three Blackwood brothers together if it came to it. Rylan's hand had shot out, snatching the paper lantern from Gideon's grip—a dismissal and a demonstration of dominance right at his doorstep.

Then he turned back to his mate. She didn't look angry anymore. She looked amused.

"That was rude."

Rylan didn't answer. Instead, he stormed over to the fireplace. He cleared aside some of his old military photos and placed Liza's lantern there in a place of honor. It was a craft that most pups made at the Moon Festival. He supposed Liza had made hers tonight. Perhaps he had been rude if Gideon was only trying to return it to her.

He looked outside the window at the retreating Blackwoods. They had shifted into their wolf forms and were racing away from his cabin like they were on the hunt. Rylan would find out what was going on later. Right now, he had a mate to claim, and the moon was rising ever higher in the sky.

He felt the primal magnetism of the lunar glow tugging at him. The moonlight pulled him to do what nature had bade him do when he found the woman made just for him. Every fiber of his being was overcome with an insatiable desire to claim Liza as his own.

He knew he couldn't just throw her down and claim her. Not with her past. He had to take things slowly. He was going to have to fight against the urge to claim her, to carry her to their bed and worship her body until the only words left on her lips were his name and pleas for more. Even though the temptation clawed at him, demanding surrender, promising sweet release and the eternal bliss of a mated pair.

"Yours, huh?"

He turned to face her. There was a light in her eyes that hadn't been there before. It beckoned Rylan to her. It told him he would have that permission that he sought. But was it the right thing to do?

Rylan bit down on his tongue as Liza took a step closer. No, a step was the wrong word. She sashayed closer to him, and his wolf nearly leapt out of his skin to get at her.

He tasted blood as he bit down hard. All the while, Liza kept coming for him. She moved closer, her hips swaying with a confidence that made his pulse quicken. Her eyes were locked on to his, dark and smoldering with an intensity that sent a jolt of heat through his veins.

He opened his mouth. To say what? He couldn't remember. The words died in his throat as she stepped into his space, her body so close he could feel the warmth radiating from her.

She didn't say anything, didn't need to. Her intentions were clear in the way her hands moved, slowly, deliberately, to rest against his chest. The contact was electric, sending a shiver of awareness through him, his skin tingling where her fingers brushed against him. Her touch was light, teasing, but it held a promise that made his wolf stir restlessly inside him.

"Rylan," she whispered, her voice a soft caress that made his heart pound harder. She leaned in, her breath warm against his neck, her scent enveloping him, making it difficult to think straight. Her lips were so close to his ear, her words sending a shiver down his spine. "I think I'd like to be yours tonight."

His hands clenched into fists at his sides, every instinct screaming at him to pull her closer, to claim her as his in every way possible. Her lips brushed against the skin of his neck, a feather-light touch that made his resolve waver, the line between control and surrender growing dangerously thin.

But he couldn't—wouldn't—give in. Not yet. He wanted her, more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life, but he needed her to accept the bond first. To truly believe that they were meant to be together, that this was more than just desire, more than just the pull of the full moon. It was everything.

"Liza," he said, his voice strained as he gently caught her wrists and pulled her hands away from his chest. His heart ached at the disappointment that flickered in her eyes, but he knew he had to do this. "No."

Her brow furrowed in confusion, her eyes searching his for answers. "Why not?"

He swallowed hard, his grip on her wrists tightening slightly as he forced himself to explain. "Listen to me, Liza. We aren't having sex until you accept the bond."

The silver light of the moon cast a pale glow on Liza's mischievous features. Her sassy grin was a clear provocation, one that sent a jolt of electricity straight to his cock.

"What if I want to try the milk before I buy the cow?"

"I'm a wolf, Liza, not a cow."

Wolves didn't play by bovine rules; they lived by the laws of the wild, where the strength of the bond was the foundation of their union.

Her hand then found its way to his chest, pressing lightly against the firm muscles that lay beneath his shirt. Rylan sucked in a breath as his heart kicked up its rhythm, responding to her touch like the pound of drums heralding the onset of an ancient rite. The mating bond pulsed stronger, pulling him toward her with an invisible force he was finding harder to resist.

"Maybe I need to be sure you're a good lover before I agree to any bond." Her words were deliberate, taunting him with a challenge he wasn't sure he had the strength to deny. "Rob was such an inconsiderate lover."

At the mention of that name—Rob—a growl tore from Rylan's throat. "Don't say his name," he ordered, the sound more animal than man.

The corner of Liza's mouth quirked up into an even wider grin, her hazel eyes glinting with defiance and desire. "Make me."

The two simple words were like a spark to kindling. The remnants of his control all but burned away. He stood there, a predator poised on the edge, trying to hold back the tide of instinct that threatened to sweep them both under. The problem was he couldn't remember why he was fighting his instincts.

"Be a good girl," he cautioned her.

"Make me," Liza countered once more. Her lips curled into a sly smile that beckoned him closer to the edge of restraint.

That was it. That was the last of his control. The chains around his beast snapped, and the animal within took over his body. With a growl that rumbled deep in his chest, Rylan surrendered to the call of his inner werewolf. In one swift motion, he scooped Liza up by her ass and pinned her against the wall.

Liza's response was immediate and eager. Her thighs parted and wrapped around his waist. The scent of her sweet heat sent a jolt straight to his groin. The fabric of her damp panties pressed against his aching cock. He captured her lips with his own, the claim that left no room for doubt or hesitation. It was deep, possessive, and spoke of a hunger that went beyond flesh—a yearning of the soul that only the mating bond could sate.

Rylan's hands worked deftly at the buttons of Liza's dress, his fingers brushing against the softness of her skin, sending shivers down both their spines. His lips never left hers, but his voice was a low and husky whisper that promised dark delights in her ear.

"I'll have you begging, Liza. On your knees, pleading for release that only I can give." Each word was punctuated with the brush of his thumb over the swell of her breast, now bared to his touch.

Liza arched into him. With deliberate intent, she ground against him, the warmth and dampness of her making his cock twitch with unrestrained need. She broke their kiss long enough to nip sharply at his neck, her teeth grazing the sensitive skin just below his jaw, marking him with a boldness that spoke volumes of her untamed spirit.

In response, Rylan tore the rest of her clothing away. Fabric yielded beneath his hands. And there she was, revealed in all her glory. His gaze devoured her, tracing the line of her collarbone, the dip of her waist, the curve of her hips. She was perfection.

"Gods, Liza..." His voice trailed off as if words were suddenly insufficient to describe the sight before him.

"I don't want to stop. I want you to claim me."

"Then tell me you're mine."

"I…" She swallowed and tried again.

Rylan helped her by slipping a finger into her panties and finding her clit. "Who does this belong to?"

"You." It was more moan than word.

"Good girl."

There was no holding back, no gentle prelude to what was to come. Rylan pushed her panties to the side. Grabbing hard length, he aligned himself with her heat. The first push past her folds was rough. Liza gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders as he set a punishing rhythm. His mate had to understand, he wasn't a gentle man.

He was Alpha. He didn't coddle. He didn't cajole. He took. And she was his. Only his. So he would take everything. But he would give it all back twofold.

"Rylan!" Her voice cracked on his name, a plea, a declaration, a surrender all at once.

Before he'd even begun to get his fill of her, Liza was clenching around him. Her body tightened in the telltale sign of her approaching climax. And when it hit, she shattered around him with a keening wail.

Rylan didn't follow. Not with this first orgasm. It was too delicious, and he wanted to feel it again.

He pulled her body from the wall. His cock was still hard and buried deep inside her. He needed to thrust again, even harder this time. But the bedroom was too far. So they fell onto the couch.

Rylan poured himself into her. The force of his thrusts were like a tempest, leaving nothing in its wake but the echo of their union under the watchful gaze of the rising moon. His balls were tightening, almost painfully. But Liza felt too good around him. So he ignored his own need until he felt her legs shaking again. Except even then, it wasn't enough.