Marked (The Coldest Fae Book 3) by Katerina Martinez (novel24 .txt) 📗

action. I had an opening to go for his neck, and I took it, clamping my jaws around it and pushing him to the ground. He grabbed hold of my back and struggled to get free, but after a moment his struggles started to weaken. Instead of trying to pull chunks of my fur clean off, he was grabbing hold of me as if for dear life.

“Dahlia!” he groaned as he wrapped his arms around my neck. It made a change from his hands.

I wanted to let him go so I could speak, but how did I know this wasn’t a trick? I used my entire body weight to pin him down to the ground, even as I pulled my teeth just a little—enough that they weren’t cutting into the flesh of his neck.

Already I could taste some of his blood on my tongue, and I hated that I was hurting him, but I hadn’t known what else to do.

The Prince slowly tightened his hold around me, only it wasn’t an attempted strangulation. He was trying to hug me, to embrace me, to hold me close. I could hear him taking long, deep breaths of my fur, and I knew, then, that it was him. I knew my scent had released whatever hold his brother had on him.

I pulled my teeth even further, removing them from his neck completely.

“I’m sorry,” he said against my fur, “He took hold while I slept.”

“It’s okay,” I whispered. “I have you.”

“I can feel him even now. He’s lingering, waiting for his moment to come back up. How did he get so much stronger?”

I arched my neck up to get a good look at him, but he couldn’t seem to bring his gaze down to meet mine. He was in pain, not physical pain, but emotional pain. The veins on his neck were strained, his skin was flushed red from exertion, and he couldn’t even bear to look at me. This was killing him, and it was killing me, too.

“What can I do?” I asked. “Tell me what to do.”

“I don’t know. The scent of your shirt kept him away for a while, but I can’t be awake all the time.”

“I know. There has to be a way to beat him.”

He finally looked at me. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I nodded. “I believe you. It’s okay.”

“It’s not. What if I’d had a weapon? He wants to kill you, Dahlia. I can feel it, his anger, his rage. You are the only thing that breaks his link, your scent, being close to you.”

I shook my head. “No, I think it’s more than that.”

“More?”

“I think it’s our link, this connection that we have.”

“I thought… you didn’t believe.”

I took a deep breath. “The circumstances have… changed.”

His eyes narrowed, and he gave me a curious stare. He opened his mouth to speak, to ask me a question, but then he groaned and tipped his head back. He let go of my fur and slammed his fists into the ground once, hard. I picked myself up and stood above him, but I didn’t go anywhere. I needed to be ready to bite him again if I had to.

“You can’t keep me away forever,” he rasped in a croaky, guttural voice. “She can’t protect you forever.”

“Leave her out of this,” the Prince said, his voice momentarily returning to normal. “Dahlia, run. I can’t hold him!”

I stared at him, panic gripping the back of my throat and starting to seal it shut. I glanced at the closed flap leading out of the tent, then look down at him again. What was running going to accomplish? Where was I going to go? And what would happen to him if anyone found out who he was and what was going on in here?

I had to stop him, I had to help him, and then something clicked inside of me.

I dropped onto of him again as he struggled with himself. He grabbed hold of me, but instead of biting him, I changed shape again, losing my wolf form and becoming human. I cupped his face with my hands and kissed him long, and deep. He fought me at first, but then his struggling seemed to settle—though only a little bit.

“Don’t leave me,” I whispered into his mouth, “Come back to me. Find your way back.”

“I… Dahlia…” he said into my mouth, “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. You are the Prince. You are my Prince. Understood? Mine, and no one else’s.”

I didn’t let him speak again. Instead, I kissed him even more deeply, plunging my tongue into his mouth and trying to find his. The Prince wrapped his arms around me now, holding me close, his fingers touching the bare skin of my shoulders and back.

Once he had me in his arms, I quickly lowered my hands and found the hem of his pants. “Come back to me,” I breathed, “Don’t think about him, Cillian, think about me.”

The Prince moaned into my mouth as I reached into his pants and wrapped my hand around him. It was warm, and thick, and already a little excited. I couldn’t believe I’d so brazenly taken hold of him like this, but once I had him in my hand, it took only a moment to get him all the way worked up.

When he was ready, I pulled it out of his pants and straddled him, guiding him toward me. I was already wet, already aching and so desperate to experience this exact moment. Even though I couldn’t savor the first instant of pleasurable contact, no one could stop me from moaning, exultantly, as I took him inside of me.

Cupping his face again, not once breaking the kiss, I lowered myself slowly onto him, enjoying every last inch of that first, gradual push.

“Dahlia…” he groaned.

“Yes,” I said into his mouth, “Say my name, keep it on your lips. He can’t get to you if I have you.”

“Dahlia,” he repeated.

Slowly, I made my hips climb again, and then I lowered myself once