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The Burning Claw (The Grey Wolves #10)(60)

By:Michele G Miller

“By all that is majestic, Cyn, if you make that sound again the meeting will be postponed and you will be in my bed.”
He was serious, she could hear it in the sound of his voice. He’d been waiting so long to make her his. She’d always felt completely safe with him, but in that moment, she was so lost to him—his kiss and his touch—that she would have gone with him to his bed most joyfully.
Thalion jerked his face from her neck where he’d been diligently sucking when he heard a knock on the door. She nearly laughed when she saw the anger and frustration on his face.
She took his chin in her hand and turned it back to her. “We will continue this later.”
“First, we will see our holy man,” he declared, his voice gruff with desire. “Tonight I make you my bride. Then, you are correct, my beautiful female, we will continue this but it will be in our bed and with considerably less clothing.”
She knew she looked surprised, which put a satisfied smirk on his face as he stepped back allowing her to slide slowly down his body. He did it deliberately, but she couldn’t complain. He straightened her clothes and touched his lips one more times to hers.
He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the living area and front door. “Let’s find out how many allies we have and formulate a plan. I don’t want this to take all day.”
“Eager?” she teased.
“You have no idea,” he purred as he stepped up to the door. He pulled it open and the first of many, many elves stepped inside.
Cyn watched as more and more began to arrive. Perhaps, they did have a chance at keeping his father from making the elves his slaves to the cause of the Order of the Burning Claw.
Zara wandered the halls of the Romania pack mansion. Her little charge was currently playing with Thia under the watchful eye of Alina and Lilly. Slate was there as well, but he was a tad too young to play just yet. She had been thankful that Alina offered to take him for a little while. Zara had been feeling restless and needed to be alone to think. 
Her footsteps were quiet as she ran her fingers along the wall beside her. She was in a part of the mansion she’d never been in before, not that that was surprising—the place was massive. She was glad she’d finally ventured out of her own suite, but she still felt very lost. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with the rest of her life. Would she have a true mate like Bethany? She couldn’t imagine any guy ever wanting her. He’d take one look at her body, with all the scars from the teeth of the leeches who’d fed from her, and be disgusted. And those bites weren’t even the worst part.
Her stomach clenched and her heart hurt at the thought of never knowing the love of another. She’d seen the way the males of the Canis lupus treated their mates. Who wouldn’t want that? They were so gentle, even when frustrated with the females. They rarely stopped touching their mates and the way they looked…well, that was enough to make any one needy with desire. She’d never have that, and that was almost worse than having been tortured by the vampires.
As she rounded a corner, Zara ran head first into someone who was in an incredible hurry. She bounced off a firm chest and caught herself on the wall before she could fall onto her butt. She stepped back, her skin suddenly flushed and her heart pounding hard in her chest. She was afraid to look up. Something inside of her was warning her—telling her that if she did look up, her entire life was going to change, again.
Wadim was breathless as he looked down at the woman in front of him. She was young, no doubt, but she was definitely a woman. His woman. He’d felt her as he was coming up the stairs from the archive room. Her thoughts had filled his mind and his legs were moving before he realized it. His wolf was desperate to get to her and suddenly there she was. Wadim could already smell her scent; it clung to him from where she ran into his chest. She smelled like caramel mixed with toffee and his mouth watered. He wanted to laugh that his mate smelled like two of his favorite flavors. She was perfect. But she wouldn’t look up at him. Why?
“Zara?”
Her breathing hitched. She’d heard her name, but he hadn’t said it out loud. She still didn’t look up.
“I…you…” he began aloud now. “We must talk. You and I are…has anyone explained to you yet… about the mate bond?” he asked her gently.
“Yes, but I can’t have a mate,” she finally spoke.
Her head rose slowly and her eyes met his. She was beautiful, with dark chocolate hair that reached her waist. Her eyes were large and a beautiful shade of light green. She had a cute nose that he immediately wanted to kiss. Her skin was pale, but her lips were a rich red color and looked delicious. His eyes wandered down her form. He probably shouldn’t have been checking his mate out in that particular moment, but he and his wolf were desperate for her. Her frame was petite. He would be able to wrap one arm all the way around her tiny waist. Regardless of the fact that she was a little too thin, owing to her recent captivity, it was obvious that she was plenty curvy. Her hips flared out from her waist and her legs were shapely in the skinny jeans she wore. He was trying to be a gentleman and not notice how ample her chest was, especially for one so small, but he was failing miserably. With an incredible amount of self-control, he forced his eyes back up to her lovely face. The frown on her face reminded him of the words she’d just said. I can’t have a mate.
Wadim wasn’t a submissive wolf, but he wasn’t terribly dominant either. The claws would come out when necessary, but as the pack historian, he was more at home in his archives than on the battlefield. That being said, he and his wolf were still incredibly possessive. All wolves were when it came to their mates, not just the super dominant ones.“You can and you do. And his name is Wadim,” he said, attempting to keep his wolf from making an appearance. She stood, staring at him, feeling very unsure of herself. He was trying not to seem imposing, but his six foot, three-inch frame towered over her. He was too close than was considered appropriate for people who’d just met, but his wolf wouldn’t let him move back.
“Are you sure?” she asked. She was serious and that baffled him.
“Do you hear me?” he asked through the bond.
Her breath caught as she nodded.
“Do you feel me?” Wadim pictured himself running his fingers through her long tresses and he watched in utter fascination as she closed her eyes and tilted her head back as though he was physically touching her.
“How did you do that?” Zara asked him as her eyes popped open.
“That would be the true mate bond. We have a powerful mental link. If I imagine I’m touching you, you will feel it as if I really were. It’s one of the ways we find our true mates.”
“And the other ways?”
Wadim rubbed the back of his neck as he glanced around them. The corridor was empty, but it still felt like too public a place to have that conversation. “Would you, um, maybe like to come down to the archive room and talk with me?” He didn’t want to freak her out, but he didn’t want her to leave either.
“What’s the archive room?”
“It’s a room in the basement where we keep all of our records. The entire history of the werewolf race is contained there. A member of my family has acted as the pack historian for centuries, and now it is my turn,” he explained “My room is down there too. But that’s not where I’m suggesting we go,” he added quickly. “There’s a main room at the bottom of the stairs where most of the texts are kept.”
“You’re going to explain this mate business in more detail, right?” She truly wanted to know. Wadim could feel her eagerness. She longed for it to be true.
He nodded. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
“Anything?”
“Yes, of course. I have no secrets from you. We are true mates. Not that I could keep anything from you anyway,” he said grinning and tapping the side of his head.
“Okay,” she said finally. “I’ll come with you to talk.”
It took everything he had not to throw his arm up in victory. He held out his hand to her, needing to touch her. After a long pause, she slipped her small hand in his. Wadim turned so that she couldn’t see his face. His eyes closed and he focused on the incredible sensation of her skin against his. Mine, his wolf growled. Indeed, he thought, she is ours. 
He led her to the stairs, and then down into what all the other pack members liked to call the dungeon. It didn’t look like a dungeon, of course. It looked much more like the library of…well…an ancient supernatural being. The walls were lined with ancient leather bound books, and plush worn leather armchairs were scattered throughout the room. After a few awkward moments, he reluctantly released her hand and let her roam the room, looking at the books and then the tables with their intricate carvings. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. He had to make himself stand still because his wolf wanted to follow her around like a puppy and attempt to lick any part of her he could reach. Good grief, man, pull it together, he growled at himself.
He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, hoping that would keep him from grabbing her and sitting her in his lap, where her neck would be positioned very close to his mouth. He felt his canines lengthen at the thought of marking her. He snapped his mouth closed and willed them to go back to normal.