No Going Back

I drove back to West Miami in a trance. My skin was stained with the very splatters of Saul’s blood. Vane’s cold, lethal twist played on a loop in my mind. The sound of the snap, the way Saul’s eyes had gone vacant.

I pulled the Corolla up to the curb of my apartment building. But the sidewalk wasn't empty.

Idling under a streetlamp was a machine that looked like it had been forged in the same dark furnace as the man sitting on it. It was a Combat Wraith, a custom-built powerhouse, trapped in a cage of steel.

Cane leaned over the tank, his massive body dwarfing the bike. He had changed into a clean black T-shirt. His hair was windswept, and his eyes, though brown again, held a slight glow of amber that suggested the beast was only inches beneath the surface.

"I told you I wasn't going back to the penthouse," I said as I approached him.

"You’re not going to the penthouse," Cane said, his voice low.

He reached out, handing me a black helmet.

"And you’re not staying in this dump today either. Get on."

I didn't hesitate. I climbed onto the back of the Wraith, my heart skipping a beat as I realized there was nowhere else to put my hands but around him. I slid my arms around his waist, feeling the heat from his torso.

"Hold on, Miller," he murmured.

He kicked the Wraith into gear, and the world exploded.

We didn't just drive; we tore through the city at a speed that made my heart feel like it slowed down. Cane handled the bike with perfect precision.

The wind was screaming past my helmet, trying to rip me off the seat. I squeezed him tighter, burying my face against the space between his shoulder blades. I could smell him now, not the grease of the shop, but the scent of the forest. I felt intoxicated and took a deep breath as I inhaled him.

We left West Miami behind, heading south, deeper into the parts of Florida that the tourists never see. We bypassed the beaches and headed toward the Everglades.

The air changed. The temperature dropped, but I was warm from Cane’s heat. Every time he leaned the bike into a curve, my body followed his. I felt alive.

Cane finally slowed as we reached a hidden trail near Big Cypress. He navigated the Wraith onto a dirt path. The tires were spitting gravel until we reached a limestone outcrop that overlooked an expanse of wetlands.

He killed the engine. The silence that followed was broken only by the distant chirping of cicadas.

"We’re here," Cane said.

He dismounted and helped me off the bike. My legs felt like jelly, the adrenaline fresh in my veins. I pulled off the helmet, my blonde hair falling down my shoulders, wild and tangled.

Cane turned to me.

"I shouldn't have brought you here," he whispered, stepping into my space.

"I should have let Saul take you. I should have let you stay a Thorne."

"You know that's a lie," I said, stepping closer until my chest brushed his.

"You couldn't let me go any more than I could walk away."

His large hand was tracing the line of my jaw before moving down my neck, then my body, and stopping just before reaching my crotch. His skin was still fever-hot, a constant reminder of the power he was holding back.

"Vane thinks you're a liability," Cane whispered, his eyes turning amber as his excitement grew.

"He thinks I’m weak because I want to keep you. He thinks the Thorne blood will eventually poison the pack," he says while slowly starting to take my clothes off piece by piece.

"And what do you think?" I asked, my voice barely a breath, while I removed his shirt, feeling his powerful, warm body pressed up against mine.

Cane leaned in.

"I think the Thorne blood is exactly what I need. You have what it takes, Eloise. You have the fire. You didn't flinch when the mist hit. You didn't run when the bullets started flying."

He moved his hand to my waist, pulling me against him. The friction was a slow-motion explosion. I reached up, my fingers tangling in the hair at the back of his neck, pulling him down, while he kissed my neck and moved downwards toward my abdomen, every touch, every soft kiss, fueling the lust I felt for him.

"Claim me, Cane," I whispered.

"Stop fighting the hunger and just take what’s yours."

Cane let out a low groan, a sound of total surrender. He placed his lips against mine. He tasted like he had been starving for a century, and I was the only thing that could sustain him.

His teeth grazed my lower lip, sharp and demanding, and a jolt of pure electricity shot straight to my core. I arched into him, my hands clenching him tight.

He broke the kiss, his breathing ragged, and buried his face in the crook of my neck. I felt his nostrils flare, taking in the scent of my skin, my pulse, my very essence.

"You smell like the moon," he whispered against my breasts, his voice predatory.

"You smell like the end of the world."

"You're mine, Eloise Miller," he growled into my skin, his grip on my waist tightening until I was lifted slightly off the ground.

"You are the mate of the Alpha. My pack is your pack. My enemies are your enemies."

"I know," I whispered, holding onto him as he started to aggressively thrust his large member into me.

This wasn't like the one-night stands I had before; it was more... more lustful, more powerful, more real than anything I had ever experienced before. I felt the same high the drugs gave me the night I was arrested, but this time, he was the drugs, and I was addicted to him.

Cane pulled back just enough to look me in the eye. The man and the wolf were perfectly balanced in his gaze, a fusion of human love and animal possession. He reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

"If you stay," he warned, and continued to whisper in my ear, while rhythmically moving between my legs.

"There is no going back. My enemies, the other packs, the hunters... they will come for you because you are my heart."

His orgasm felt like an eruption as we both simultaneously came together.

"Let them come," I said, a ruthless, Thorne-like smile touching my lips.