Chapter 13

THIRTEEN

RUTH

I was drunk on a dangerous cocktail of this male's spicy scent, heat pheromones, and the instinctual urge to survive.

Okay, so maybe this wasn't the guy who'd ripped Hope apart. He still tried to kill me.

He could pretend it was all to avenge his brother, but there was still an instinctual part of him that wanted me dead. Wolves ate bunny rabbits, simple as that.

Even if his wolf chose me as his true mate, you couldn't ignore the natural order of things. He told me I was free to go, but the second I fled, I didn't trust him not to chase after me.

Then, there was the rest of his pack to worry about.

My heat pheromones put a target on my back.

If I could survive his claim, the urge to protect his mate would be stronger than his need to kill me. Then my heat would end, and his scent would cover my own.

Being the bonded mate to a murderous werewolf didn't sound like the world's smartest idea, but hey, it probably beat being dead. Let's hope, anyway.

I kept my expression sultry and my eyes full of challenge, daring his wolf to come out and play.

The scent of burnt flesh rose through the air, tangling with the smoke.

I'd expected his wolf to come exploding out when I'd burned his chest with his cigarette. But no, the male calmly plucked the cigarette butt from my fingertips and placed it in the ashtray on his dresser. Then he turned back, reaching for me.

I braced for him to hit me—to punish me for burning him. Instead, his palm brushed my cheek. He was hot, like a furnace. His thumb gently teased my septum piercing before sliding his hand back, his fingers tangling in my hair.

Jerking me toward him, the heat of his bare chest bled into my shirt, which was the only barrier between us. He angled my head back, forcing our eyes to meet.

"Foolish bunny. So eager to force my wolf out." His low chuckle scraped over my skin like sandpaper. "So eager for the beast to break you from the inside."

Fire ignited in my belly. "Your wolf won't hurt me. Not if it thinks I'm his mate."

The male arched his silver brows. "You so sure of that?"

No, I wasn't. But I couldn't let him know I was terrified out of my ever-loving mind. This was the best plan I had. It had to work. "Female bunny shifters are meant to be fucked hard and often."

"Sure. But they aren't built to take a cock half their size."

By his smirk, my eyes were probably fit to pop out of my head. "It can't be that big."

"Too big for your little cunt. You need to be trained to take me."

"I can take whatever you give me."

"I look forward to watching you try." He arched to kiss me, his lips searing against mine like a brand. I gasped against the shock of warmth, and in that same instant, my lips parted, allowing his tongue to thrust inside.

The acrid taste of tobacco was the first flavor to hit my tongue, followed by sweet whiskey and something else that was uniquely him. Smokey. Masculine. Angry. Like lust and damnation.

All in one electrifying kiss.

I didn't have a voice in my head like he did, but that animalistic urge was there, telling me to get closer.

My pussy was so soaked. I yelped in surprise when his free hand wedged between my thighs, his finger skimming up my inner leg to collect the arousal dripping down my flesh. He pulled back, popping the finger in his mouth to taste me.

His eyes darkened, and the tendons in his neck pulled tight as if his wolf was clawing at him from the inside, desperate to get out.

"You taste better than I could have ever imagined. If you knew the filthy shit the monster in my head is telling me to do to you?—"

"What's it saying?"

The male's twisted smirk sent a shiver through me. "How it's going to eat your pussy until there's nothing left."

I couldn't hold back a whimper as his hand returned to my center, shoving between my legs and demanding entrance. "Come on, Little Bunny. Let me inside you…"

I swallowed thickly and obeyed, my stance spreading.

My cheeks—no, my entire body—flamed red hot as his index finger painted a soft, lingering stroke over my labia. Slowly, he pressed inside.

"Fuck…" I whispered under my breath, my legs starting to tremble as I spread around his thick index finger.

The wolf's steel gray eyes flicked up. "Scared?"

I shook my head even though it was a lie.

His smirk stretched wide. "Oh, Ruthless. You act so brave. I know you're terrified. You should be. I have no idea how I'm going to fit my wolf cock into this tiny little hole without ruining it."

I hated how well he could read me. I was terrified.

Here I was, about to sleep with a werewolf. Bunnies didn't bang wolves, and it wasn't just because we were natural enemies. The size difference was too much. Male werewolves were supposed to be huge. Too big for a female bunny shifter to fit, especially a shifted werewolf.

I talked a big game about being able to take him, but in all honesty, I just didn't know.

The most fucked up thing about it all was how badly my body burned for him. The size difference only seemed to make me slicker.

I could pretend I needed his mark to safely pass through the woods and that any attraction was only due to the crazy levels of bunny pheromones pumping into my system, scrambling my better judgment.But that would be a lie. There was a part of me that wanted him.

I liked pain, and this male would be sweet torment.

Reaching for the ax on the dresser, I held it up so he could see the blade glinting in the light pouring in through the window, still crusted in his brother's blood. "I wasn't afraid of your brother when I chopped him up with this ax. I'm not afraid of you either."

His arm snapped out, grabbing my throat. This time, though, he wasn't trying to wring the life from me. He wanted me alive so he could punish me for what I'd taken from him.

Snatching the ax from my grip, he pushed me, and I fell to the floor.

I made a squeak when he threw the ax down, and the blade lodged into the wooden floor between us, precious inches from my bare toes.

My gaze lifted to his. "What the fuck!"

The man lounged against his dresser. The moonlight from the window illuminated his face, the barbed wire tattoo stretching from each sharp edge of his jaw and following his silvery hairline, framing his features in a dark picture of deadly perfection.

His lips split with a diabolical grin as he pointed to the ax handle. "Ride it."

With the angle of the ax sticking out of the floor, I'd have to get on all fours and back myself onto it. Plus, the wolf blood had dribbled a little down the handle. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, I'm deadly serious, Ruthless. Ride the fucking ax."

He picked up the pack of Marlboros from his dresser, fished another cigarette out with his teeth, and lit it. His eyes blazed with the reflection of its tip. For a moment, he looked like the devil himself, dishing out my punishment for the murder I'd committed.

"Put on a good show for me, and I just might let my wolf out to claim you."