Chapter 35—Do This For Me
Drake
freedom agitated the beast prowling beneath my skin.
I’m no fool. Gemma may have acquiesced to my commands, but deep down, I know she’ll recklessly venture into danger to protect me, driven by some misguided notion of saving me.
I meant what I said. She is mine, and I will never let her go. If I can just endure this damn lunar cycle, it will be one less worry burdening my mind when it comes to the safety of my human mate.
Reluctantly, I step away before her scent drives the beast forward. “Tonight is our only concern,” I announce, grabbing my t-shirt from the desk and hastily pulling it over my head.
“Right,” she nods. “One crisis at a time.”
“Instead of chartering a flight to Montana, I’ve decided to shift here to be close to you. My house may not survive, but at least I’ll be by your side if anything happens.”
“What’s in Montana?”
“It’s my king’s ranch. Pack members are invited there to shift, hunt, and... run under the full moon.”
Shit. I almost blurted out the word rut. It’s what most wolves will do tonight; Fucking. Either with their mates or any wolf dumb enough to get close. Liam understands wild sex with a random wolf is not my intention for this full moon.
“I need you to stay locked in the basement until I’m back in human form. No fucking bullshit. You don’t even so much as think about opening that door.”
She hesitates, and my frustration mounts. Perhaps I should restrain her before I leave. Knowing she can’t disobey me and invite the beast downstairs would ease my mind.
“Please, Gemma. Do this for me.”
“Okay,” she whispers, her shoulders slumping. “I promise.”
“Good girl. Our lives depend on your safety behind that door.” Drawing closer, I gently cup her cheek. “One more thing. I need you to consume my blood.”
She recoils, breaking free from my grasp. “What? No!”
“Yes. It’s the next step to prolonging your life. You’ve already consumed the vampire queen’s blood. It started the process, but without regular hits of my blood, you will age and risk sickness.” With a swift motion, I seize her wrist and yank her close to me. “I live for centuries, Gemma. I need my mate by my side.”
A shudder runs through her at the prospect of swallowing my blood, and I can’t blame her. Werewolves are not like vampires. Our thirst for blood only arises during the mating bite, at which point we enter a beast-like state. I can never risk Gemma’s life and mark her as mine, so our connection will always be one-sided.
“You will need to ingest my blood monthly. It will strengthen you and ensure your longevity.”
“Ew. I don’t think I can...”
I grin wickedly. “The vampires claim it’s an erotic experience.”
“Really? Have you ever been with a vampire?” she asks, her eyes wide open with curiosity.
“Once.” When I don’t elaborate, she pokes me in the sternum.
“And?”
“And nothing. I told her if she bit me, I’d kill her.”
“Oh.”
A mischievous grin curves my lips as I witness her disappointment. “Would you have preferred it if she sank her teeth into me?” I inquire teasingly.
She shrugs. “It might have given you a frame of reference for your prey… uh, I mean, your mate.”
I laugh, and she frowns at me. “Oh, princess. A werewolf’s bite is nothing like a vampire’s. It would be like comparing a kitten’s bite to a lion’s. Night and day.” My smile fades. “Besides, you will never know. You’re my mate, but until I discover differently, I will never bite you. It’s too dangerous.”
“Right,” she sighs. “But then we will never fully mate, right?”
“Not entirely, no.”
She drops her forehead to my chest. “You can’t claim me. I can’t give you babies, or pups, or whatever you call your offspring. What benefit am I to you?”
“Hey,” I whisper, lifting her chin with my finger to meet my gaze. “You are my everything, little human. The beat of my heart pounds your name. Every breath I take infuses my lungs with your scent. You reside in every molecule of my body, and I would perish without you in my life.”
I watch tears pool in the crystal blue depths of her eyes. “Drake,” she breathes, and I swoop in for a tender kiss.
She moans softly, her arms enveloping my neck. Needing her closeness, I lift her, carrying her into the kitchen and gently placing her on the cool granite countertop of the island. I bend to the side, open a drawer, and snatch a sharp knife.
Her eyes widen at the sight of it, panic flickering in her gaze. “Wait. Maybe we should wait until after the full moon. You mentioned the erotic nature of blood exchanges, right?”
“That’s what they say.”
“Then, perhaps we shouldn’t tempt fate so close to your transformation.”
I study her intently. “Is it the thought of consuming blood that gives you pause? Or perhaps the idea of forging an unbreakable bond with me?”
She gasps, taken aback by my question. “Are you serious?”
“I need to know right fucking now, if you are in this as deep as me?”
“You are the only man who will ever matter to me in the world. It’s not about consuming your blood. It’s not about being linked. I see the beast below the surface, and I just don’t think we should tempt fate.”
I grin, her words calming my anger. The more hours that pass, the higher my emotions ride. “Even if I’ll hear your beautiful voice in my head, no matter how far apart we are? That’s if the mate bond works the same as it does between immortals.”
“Will I be able to hear you too?”
My smile fades. “No, baby. Dual telepathy would require me to bite you, and we’ve already established why that’s out of the question.”
“Oh.” Her gaze drifts back to the knife. “As much as I want this, maybe we should wait until after the full moon. You will be nearby—not miles away.”
Frustration boils within the beast, its primal instincts longing for a profound connection with her. I share the same craving, but a thought lingers—maybe she’s right. Perhaps it’s safer for us to wait. After all, I’ve waited so patiently for my fated love. What’s one more day?
“While I’m out hunting nearby, if you’re in trouble or scared, holler for me. As loud as you can, and I will hear you.”
“Can’t I simply text you or something?”
A smile dances across my lips as I respond, “The beast doesn’t possess the ability to text, Gemma.” A blush tinges her cheeks with a rosy hue
“Right. Of course not.”
My cock hardens to stone instantly at the sight of her pretty blush. Fuck, she’s so damn adorable.
Unfortunately, the beast stirs as well.
The desire to claim her is so strong I can feel it pulsing through my veins, making me almost tremble with need. I grind my teeth and take a step back, focusing on the intricacies of baseball stats, the weight of fishing lures, or any other nonsexual thoughts that will help me ignore the animalistic desire and the accompanying erection. I clench the granite counter behind me, trying to resist the urge to ravish her right there on the kitchen island.
“Gemma,” I moan. “Maybe you should head downstairs.”
Fuck, I need her sweet cunt around my cock, her cries of pleasure in my ears.
No, Drake. I admonish. You will lose control over the beast, and he will kill her. Not out of malice but driven by its insatiable lust and need to claim her as its own.
I squeeze my eyes shut when she doesn’t move. “Is our time together over already?” she softly wonders, her disappointment reverberating through the room. Perhaps it’s possible to satisfy her one more time without relinquishing control.
Stepping between her legs, I breathe in the intoxicating scent of her desire hanging in the air. Her delicate hands cup my face, boldly leaning in for a kiss. Remaining motionless, I grant her control as I gauge the beast’s reaction.
When he doesn’t fight for freedom, I deepen the kiss, seizing control myself. With one hand, I reach between us and rub my thumb over her clit through her thin yoga pants. Her grip on my shoulders tightens.
“Remember these words for tomorrow night, princess. I. Am. Yours.” I begin the mating ritual around my ragged breathing, rubbing her clit faster, my brightening eyes lighting up the kitchen. “From this moment forward, I am yours. You own my mind. My heart. My soul. Forever.”
Under normal circumstances, the chant would state, ‘We are one. One mind. One heart. One soul. Forever.’ However, since I can never truly claim her, I modified it slightly.
Her muscles tense. Her frantic hips buck, pushing her swollen nub harder against my thumb. I revel in the symphony of sounds and her tantalizing movements against my body as she reaches her pinnacle. The dampness soaking the thin cotton has my canines shooting through my gums. Her delicate nails digging into the skin at my nape rip a lustful growl from the depths of my chest.
If I don’t cease this, the beast will take control. I can feel my ears elongating to prepare for the transformation.
I spring backward, crashing into the fridge behind me, my claws digging into my palms to stop the change. My chest heaves with the effort to stop the metamorphosis.
“Get to the basement, Gemma,” I growl urgently.
She doesn’t move, staring at me with wide-eyed wonder and curiosity. The sight of her arousal darkening her crotch bunches my muscles in readiness to leap on my mate and devour her whole.
“Now, goddammit!” My guttural shout jolts through her, and she leaps off the counter.
“Slowly,” I’m quick to hasten. “Do not run.”
God. If she ran, it would all be over.
She nods, eyes as large as dinner plates, and carefully retreats, the fear shimmering in her depths, both breaking my heart and igniting my arousal.
I lift my head and sniff the air, then plant my nose against the warm stone where she’d sat. The scent of her arousal lingers, jerking my cock against my zipper. The aroma of her fear deepens my growl, and I coil, primed for the chase.
She freezes, holding her breath. “Drake?”
“Slower, Gemma. Do not look into my eyes.”
Immediately, she lowers her lashes and continues backing away toward the pantry entrance. The beast within roars with fury as she nears the door, knowing she will soon be beyond his reach.
Gemma spins around and rushes through the entrance, slamming the door shut behind her. The loud clang of the bar lock reverberates in the room as I crash into the door, clawing at the metal, desperate to reach her.
My thoughts are stripped away, leaving only raw, primal emotions to guide me. Beyond that door lies what I crave, and I will stop at nothing to get to her.
“Drake, please, stop.” Her scared voice fills my ears from the speaker next to the door. “You’re going to hurt yourself. Please calm down.”
The growls and pants of both beast and man fill the air with intense energy as we stand there, separated by a barrier from our mate. I haven’t fully transformed yet, so my appearance remains more human than animal.
I pound my fists against the barricade. “Gemma!” I roar in a deep, feral growl. “I need you. Come to me, my mate.”
A second later, I shout. “No!” I fight the beast tooth and nail. “Do not listen. Stay in there.”
“Drake,” she sobs. “I’m so sorry.”
Why is she apologizing to me? I’m the one who tried to attack her. An image of her naked and bleeding out on my kitchen floor from my bite flashes through my mind. It’s as effective as a bucket of ice water thrown in my face.
I drop to my knees, then turn and sit on the floor, back against the cool metal. “No, Gemma,” I reply, my voice more human. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me for scaring you.” Silently, I add, for almost raping and killing you.
“Is this our future every month?”
“Until I find a viable solution, yes.” I thump my head against the door, utterly drained. My canines recede, my ears return to normal, and the beast is once again contained. “It’s worth it to be with you. Moving forward, we need to take better precautions as the time of my transformation approaches.” When silence meets my words, I squeeze my eyes shut. “Please, don’t fear me, Gemma. We can overcome this.”
“Can we? I’m not so sure.”
The words pierce my heart. My fists clench. “Don’t give up on us, baby.”
I catch sight of the wall clock and curse. Shifting within my house is out of the question. I despise leaving her like this, but staying here has already proven disastrous. Her fear and uncertainty make her doubt our connection. Our love.
“Gemma. Remember your vow. I beg you not to open this door under any circumstances.” I rise to my feet, facing the camera above the door. “Keep an eye on the monitors for my return.”
“Right.” The despondency produces a sharp pain in my chest. “Because I’m a fragile human.”
“A beautiful, precious gift bestowed upon me by fate, and for that, I am eternally grateful. Never forget that.” When she offers no response, I touch my fingers to my lips and then press them against the camera. “I love you, Gemma. Please stay safe tonight. There’s plenty of food in the kitchenette fridge. Watch anything you want on Netflix and Prime on the TV. Try not to stay up all night watching me.”
“Be careful, Drake, and… I love you too,” she whispers, and contentment warms my chest.
The love I feel for her at this moment is enormous. It’s hot lava expanding inside my chest, uncontrollable and terrifying.