Hope shuddered at the memories of screams, the erupting flames and gunfire echoing around the house she hid in. She had screamed Wolfe’s name over and over during those hours. Certain he would have escaped. But had he escaped, he would surely have come for her. He had claimed her, swore she belonged to him. He wouldn’t have left her there to die.
Sighing deeply, she collected her jacket and backpack and headed for class. Her day was full, her life was heading somewhere for a change. She couldn’t allow the memories to destroy all she had gained in the past years.
Exiting her small apartment, she noticed the white cleaner’s van in the parking lot, but paid it little heed. She noticed the large men moving about outside its opened doors, but the sight was a common one. What she wasn’t expecting was the hard grip one of them took of her arm as she passed. For a brief second surprise flared in Hope’s chest as one of the tall men stepped before her, a growl emitting from his lips, his gray eyes swirling with anger. She gasped, then blinked as something stung her arm.
“Wolfe,” she whispered his name in desperation as she felt the shocking, abrupt departure of consciousness.
CHAPTER TWO
Hope awoke disoriented, groggy. She blinked up at the ceiling and stared at the heavy beams that crossed it. This wasn’t her bedroom. She looked around, taking careful stock of the large room. The heavy logs that made up the walls told her she was in a cabin. The scent of a fire burning, the low hum of voices assured her she wasn’t alone. She shifted against the mattress, intending to rise from the bed and demand a heated explanation. Fury flared in her as she tried to move but couldn’t.
Her legs and arms were tied to the four corners of the bed like a damned virginal sacrifice. She was still dressed, but only barely. Her shirt had been unbuttoned to the waist, her jeans unsnapped, the zipper lowered. Her body hummed with arousal, ached in ways it hadn’t for years. Wolfe. Only his touch, only the stroke of his tongue, the caress of his lips could put her into such burning arousal.
He had touched her. She stifled a sob, closing her eyes as she let the knowledge soak into her brain. He was alive, and he had dared to touch her while she was unconscious. Her eyes flew open again. The tips of her br**sts were so sensitive she could swear that just breathing irritated them. Her abdomen was heated, a spot on her hip sang with sensation. Her blood pulsed through her veins, a rapid tattoo of lust had her shifting against her bonds, trying to clench her thighs to relieve the ache that centered in her very womb.
He had touched her with his mouth, tasted her. She almost whimpered. She held the sound back though, knowing well his exceptional hearing. He would know she was awake, and he would come to her. Tears stung her eyes. He was alive, all these years he had been alive and he had never come to her. Had not contacted her. He had left her suffering. Her lips thinned, her eyes narrowed. Damn him, he knew what he had done to her the night her mother had locked her in his cell. He knew he had marked her as his mate, ensuring that no other male, normal or Wolf Breed, would take her with her cooperation.
She still carried the scar of that mark on her shoulder. A sharp bite, then gentle strokes of the tongue that infected the area with a hormone so potent that it took very little, and no time at all for it to make its way to the bloodstream.
She had been in misery that night, so hot, needing him so desperately that she had pleaded with him for hours. But that one touch, that one caress was all he allowed her, and he had been furious with himself, and with her, when he realized what he had done.
Of course, the Bitch had been overjoyed, certain that it would be only a matter of time before Wolfe proved her theory that the Breed’s DNA would in fact find a way to procreate. Their females were barren. There was enough evidence to support the theory that the mutated sperm the males carried would change once again to ensure breeding. Her daughter had been chosen as the first lab rat for the procedure.
Hope had never cared much for the cold, sarcastic woman that she knew as her mother. But when she had learned the calculated plan to use her so coldly, she had begun to hate her.
“I see you’re awake.” Her eyes flew open as his cool, dark voice greeted her from the open doorway.
He was older, but still so handsome he took her breath away. His hair was black, cut shorter in the front and tapering down below his neck, brushing his shoulders. He wore a blue cotton shirt tucked into jeans and a wide belt cinched at his hips. Below, the fabric bulged with the pressure of his erection.
Hope swallowed with no small amount of difficulty. He was more intimidating than ever before. But he was alive. So alive he took her breath with his presence.
“You tied me up. You touched me while I was unconscious,” she accused him, suddenly furious he had allowed her to be tormented for six long years. “You’re no better than the bastards who created you, Wolfe.”
The words, born of hurt and fury could not be taken back, and she had no desire to do so. How dare he leave her hurting, aching all these years? How dare he kidnap her and frighten her, rather than coming to her as he should have?
She watched in shock though, as complete fury filled the thundercloud color of his eyes.
“And you, my sweet sacrifice, are no better than the bitch that bore you,” he sneered. “Do you think I wanted to be re-captured, forced to breed and see my children raised as I was? Did you honestly believe the plan the two of you hatched would come to fruition?”
Hope stared up at him in confusion. How could he believe she would plan anything with her mother when she hadn’t even known he was alive?
“What plan?” she bit out. “I made no plan with her.”
His lips twisted in a sneer as he entered the room, closing the door behind him. God, she was burning alive for him. She could barely think for the need to touch him, to be touched by him, now that he was close to her. His very presence caused sharp pangs of lust to ripple through her pu**y.
“You won’t lie to me for long, Hope,” he told her softly, his gray eyes going over her body as they darkened with lust. “I promise, before this night ends you’ll beg to tell me the truth.”
The sensual promise in his voice made her breath catch. His hands went to his belt, releasing the catch with slow, measured movements. Her eyes widened as he began to pull it from the loops. She began to wonder if he had something in mind for her rather than the f**king she needed so desperately.
“You wouldn’t dare beat me,” she finally gasped.