Page 171
Story: Primal Kill
She could not smell his emotions so she could not detect his intentions. Some men reeked of arousal while others carried the dull stench of boredom. He smelled like the earth. The organicfibers of his clothes carried traces of rain, but his skin wore a unique musk she didn’t recognize. Clean and appealing, but also woodsy and masculine.
The laces of her underclothes settled over her chest as she lowered her arms. Her throat worked hard to swallow as her situation caught up with her and she realized this surreal moment was her actual reality.
Air stopped moving through her lungs, and her shoulders started to quake as she mouthed a cry for help that never formed into sound. Her hand fluttered to her throat.
“Grace?”
“I can’t…” She looked at him in utter panic and he rushed to her side. “Breathe.”
“Let me help you.” He took her hand and placed it on his chest. Heat rushed up her arm, and she tried to pull away. “Leave it.”
Holding her stare, he unhooked his belt, intentionally stripping away his weapons. The leather and metal clattered to the floor and her shoulders jumped to her ears.
“Feel my heartbeat. Breathe with me.”
Shallow gasps were all she could manage.
“You’re fine. There’s nothing to fear.”
Her stare dropped to the blade on the floor. The scent of fresh blood clung to the metal.
“Eyes up here.”
When she looked at him again, her lungs opened, and refreshing oxygen filled her chest.
“There. That’s it. Follow my breathing. Deep breath in…”
His heart beat steadily against her palm, his chest expanding as he demonstrated how he wanted her to breathe. She mimicked him, and her nerves slightly settled.
“Good girl,” he spoke softly. “Now let it out slowly.”
Together, they exhaled, their breath mingling into a delicate breeze that teased across her skin. Feeling calmer, she studied the sharp angles of his face. Unlike the smooth skin of immortal males, his chiseled jaw wore a dark layer of stubble. His eyes were dark pools of moss and his skin a flawless olive tone. The flesh of his full lips was tanned and plump, a strangely delicate feature on such a masculine face.
“Another deep breath in.”
She held his stare, matching his breathing until her racing heart slowed. A sense of safety enveloped her, and the tension in her arm relaxed.
His thumb dragged softly over the back of her hand where he held it to his broadly muscled chest. “That’s it,min pärla.” His other hand reached for her face. Calloused fingers trailed over her cheek, tucking a loose hair behind her ear.
Her hand reached for her head, only to find her braids undone. “You took down my hair.” No one, save her mother, had ever touched her hair.
His full lips firmed. “For your comfort. I tookno other liberties. I only removed the pins when I removed your wet clothes.”
Her gaze dropped as heat rushed to her face. He caught her chin, forcing her to keep her eyes on him.
In that moment, he saw not only her fear but her ignorance. Shame for being so utterly unprepared sent tears rushing to her eyes. Did he expect her to do something?
Humiliation burned her face. “I don’t know what you want.”
“Isn’t it clear? I’ve come all this way to find you. I merely want what ismine.”
His claim settled around her like an invisible harness. He was taking her in. Gentling her. Building a foundation of trust and safety.
Her body shook, but she did not fight his closeness.
“I’ve come a long way to find you, Grace. I want to be patient with you, but…” The soft touch of his fingers trailed along her jaw. “There is the matter of…” His touch dropped away. “Business.”
She frowned and pulled her hand away. “Business? Do you mean the bonding?”
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