Chapter 11

Chapter

Eleven

Lana

I woke to warmth and weight. A heavy arm draped over my waist, and the solid wall of a body pressed against my back. I sucked in a breath, my heart hammering in my chest. Everything inside me stilled. I'd slept like a baby. In his arms. All night long.

My skin tingled where Destin's arm touched me, but it wasn't just that. The night before flung itself back into my memory, and my body was keenly aware of the place where his lips had accidentally brushed against my skin the night before. How he'd pulled his hips away from me, his breath heavy against my neck.

My wolf stirred, restless. You're too stubborn for your own good.

My eyes widened. This? This is the moment you decide to talk to me again? You've been silent for days.

I was giving you time.

I almost laughed out loud. Time for what? I moved my hips, trying to extricate myself without waking Destin, but it was like trying to move out from under a boulder. My movement only made things worse. His arm tightened around me, pulling me back against him. I froze as his body pressed even closer, and I was suddenly very aware of every muscle, every inch of him. The way his hips were now very much pressed against my backside.

My heart stuttered, and blood rushed in my ears.

He's strong. He's capable. My wolf started listing off all the qualities she'd found in Destin. Apparently she'd been watching in her silence.

He's a rogue, I hissed back.

Destin's arm tensed, then relaxed as he blinked awake. "Morning," he grumbled, his voice thick with sleep.

I turned my head. "Morning? Is that what we're calling this? Because it feels more like a hostage situation."

His lips curved into a lazy smile, and he didn't move his arm. "You complaining?"

"Maybe I am." I tried to sound indignant, but it came out breathy. Damn it.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated against my back. "You're not complaining."

I swallowed hard. "Don't tell me what I am and am not doing."

"Fine, princess. But if you're going to keep moving like that, I'm going to start thinking you want something."

My cheeks flushed, and I shoved his arm off me, rolling away. "You're—" I couldn't find a word to finish that sentence because I suddenly realized his scent was all over me.

Destin stretched, and the hem of his shirt rode up, exposing a sliver of skin. I looked away, focusing on the trees swaying in the morning breeze. "We should get moving."

Destin sat up, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. Last leg. We'll be there this afternoon."

My shoulders tensed. "Perfect."

Are you going to miss him? My wolf sounded smug.

I stalked away from our camp and turned to the stream to found a place where I was mostly hidden. I was desperate to wash myself as best I could. Peeling off my jacket, I kicked off my boots and yanked my shirt over my head. The breeze scraped across my bare arms, and a shiver rippled through me, goosebumps rising in its wake. It wasn't just the cold—everything from the night still clung to me. Sweat, remnants of dried blood, and most troubling, Destin .

His scent stuck to me, earthy and wild, like it had stained my skin. Every breath stirred it back up, winding through my senses, making my pulse quicken in ways I refused to acknowledge. My hands fumbled at the waistband of my pants, shoving them down far enough to wade into the stream. The water hit like ice, stabbing into my legs, sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs. I gritted my teeth and splashed it over my arms and chest, the cold jolting me awake.

I scrubbed harder, determined to wash away the salt, the blood, and every reminder of him. Without soap, his scent lingered. I splashed more water on my neck, letting it drip down my back, trying to drown the pull he had on me. But it wouldn't go away, not fully. And the worst realization? Some part of me didn't want it gone at all.

But he would be. In a matter of hours. And that was for the best. He could go on with his quiet life as he wanted, and I could . . . do whatever I was going to have to do next.

That thought sobered me, and the loneliness rushed back in.

I redressed, then the two of us packed up our gear in silence, the tension between us thick enough to cut with a knife.

"Ready?" I asked, my voice clipped.

Destin grunted in response, and we fell into our routine. We took turns shifting, and all the emotions swirling within me intensified. Please don't do anything stupid , I muttered.

Me? Never. I couldn't see it, but I could feel her mischievous grin. I gasped as she trotted up to Destin and stroked our entire body against his sleek, black coat. He let out a guttural yip, and my wolf danced ahead of him.

What the hell?

Whoops.

I could hear him panting behind us, and we'd barely taken a few steps. Thankfully my wolf was satisfied and began to run, the forest blurring around us. I tried to focus on the task at hand, not the fact that Destin was staring at our ass. We had a long day ahead of us, and I needed to be at my best.

After a few hours, Destin barked, and we pulled to a stop. He was hesitant, sniffing the area carefully before leading me forward. We walked carefully through a slot canyon, then emerged in an open space between the rock faces. One way in and one way out.

Destin turned so I could shift and redress, then he did the same. When we were settled, he led me closer to the rock wall ahead of us. We were back below the tree line, and the mountain clearing was ringed with towering pines. The ground was a mix of rock and sparse vegetation, the air crisp and biting.

Then I saw it. A stone protruding from the ground, its surface unnaturally smooth. It wasn't a boulder or a slab of rock like the others. It was shaped, almost like it had been carved by hand, slate grey, and speckled with darker flecks.

Destin stayed back, his body tense. He wouldn't come any closer to the stone, and the look on his face was a mix of determination and . . . fear? It was the first time I'd seen him so skittish.

"This is it?" I asked, my voice hushed.

He nodded, his eyes fixed on the stone.

I took a step closer, my boots crunching on the cracking slate. "Looks like a rock to me."

Destin's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "It's not just a rock."

I nodded. "How do you know this place?"

He didn't answer. I took another step closer, my curiosity piqued. He sucked in a breath and held it as I stopped in front of the stone. "You've done your job. You can go. I'll figure it out from here."

He didn't move, and somehow, I'd known he wouldn't. He'd led me here, and as much as he'd played it tough, he wasn't about to leave me alone in the middle of the mountains. But part of me wished he would.

I felt self-conscious as I leaned down, inspecting the base of the stone. There were no markings, no inscriptions. Nothing to indicate that it was anything other than a chunk of rock. I stood up and dusted off my hands, turning to face him. "I don't have any traps handy. Can you please just tell me what you know?"

His eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, I thought he was going to say something. Instead, he just stood there, silent and brooding.

I huffed and walked back over to the stone, determined to figure it out. If he wasn't going to be helpful, then I'd do it myself. I reached out and placed my hand on the stone, feeling the cool surface under my palm.

Destin flinched. "It needs blood, Lana."

I swallowed hard, placing my hand on the dagger. "How do you know that?"

Destin's gaze flickered, his eyes darting between mine and the stone. His lips parted as if he was about to speak, but then he hesitated, his jaw clenching. His hands curled at his sides, the tendons in his forearms standing out against the skin. Then his eyes darkened, and he lowered into a crouch so fast, I didn't have time to react. The next second, he was a blur, launching himself directly at me.