Page 40 of Blue Arrow Island (Blue Arrow Island #1)

Human test subject males demonstrate different reactions to the newest test compound.

Test subject seven choked test subject three over a minor disagreement involving the potatoes served at dinner.

Without a larger test group, it’s hard to discern whether it’s the aromium or existing emotional volatility.

- Excerpt from the journal of Dr. Randall McClain

A rush of energy washes through my veins when Stella pushes the button on the handheld device to reactivate my aromium. I was thirsty; now I’m not. I felt a little lethargic; now I’m ready to run a marathon.

I take a deep breath in and out, letting myself adjust. There’s definitely a sense that I might jump out of my skin.

“Okay?” Stella asks.

I nod and she moves on to Amira.

Marcus went first. He’s walking off the transition, his back to me about thirty feet away.

“I don’t feel any different,” Amira says, looking relieved. “Probably because mine wasn’t on for long.”

Stella moves on to Niran, who howls softly when his aromium is reactivated.

“Holy fuck, that’s more like a bump of coke than an actual bump of coke is. I think I might be able to fly now.”

Adele glares at him. “I’m not jumping off a cliff to save your ass, so don’t do anything stupid. Extra stupid, I mean, since you’re ... you.”

“You love me. We’ll be boning by nightfall.”

She laughs heartily. “Not a chance in hell. I’ll fuck a tree before I fuck you.”

“Okay, that’s uncalled for. And frankly, unsanitary.”

Marcus returns, his expression unreadable. Command Team One’s members gather around him in a half circle.

“Team leaders are me, Nova, Niran and Wyatt.” Marcus crosses his arms over his chest, his arm muscles an impressive display.

“Team leaders make the final calls on everything. Stay low out there. Don’t use guns unless you have to, but don’t hesitate to use them when you need to.

It’s not just the Tiders who can kill us out here.

Stay together at all times. Go back to camp if you’re having trouble with the aromium. ”

“If someone finds the eagle or the pot of gold, do we all go back to camp?” Chance asks.

Marcus shakes his head. “We need both. Nova’s meeting Stella here once a day for a briefing on things in camp. If shit goes south, Nova will call everyone but me and Briar back.” He looks around at the people gathered. “Questions?”

No one has any. We all head out in separate directions, all of us searching a different quadrant of the island. The quadrant Marcus and I are going to is the farthest from camp; it includes the volcano on the other side of the island.

We aren’t following a path, which is smart because Tiders are probably patrolling paths.

Instead, we’re cutting our way through dense jungle.

There are muddy areas our boots sink into, and within a couple of hours, we’re calf-deep in swamp water.

I’m constantly swatting away bugs, sweat rolling down my face.

Sunlight doesn’t penetrate much of the thick canopy high over our heads, but the humidity is intense.

Marcus is silent as he leads the way, a machete in one hand and a bandanna in his other. He wipes his face every couple of minutes, the bandanna dripping sweat into the murky water at our feet.

It’s good that this is physically exerting, because even with most of my focus spent just keeping up with him, I’m still fixated on his body.

Use him. Fuck him. Bring him to his knees.

With Pax, the aromium only enhanced the slight attraction I didn’t even realize I felt for him. But with Marcus, there’s a constant throb to not just forget everything and have sex with him, but to use his desire for me to control him.

“Take a water break.” Marcus stops walking and glances over his shoulder at me.

My canteen rests against my hip. I unscrew the cap and tip the canteen to my lips, the croaks and squawks of the jungle seeming louder now that we’re stopped.

“How’s the aromium feeling?” I ask.

“I’m fine.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

A couple seconds pass before he answers, gravel in his voice.

“All I can think about is stripping you naked, dropping my pants, and holding on to your ass so hard I bruise it while I work your pussy up and down my dick until I fill you with my cum.” He glances over his shoulder at me, a brow arched. “Does that answer your question?”

My pulse races, my core aching with desire for him to fulfill his fantasy. But I remind myself that he’s been exposed to aromium for a lot longer than I have. I need to stay levelheaded and keep us focused on the important task at hand.

“Yes,” I manage, screwing the cap back on my canteen. “Let’s keep moving.”

We make it back onto dry ground again, my soaked feet giving me flashbacks to what happened when I was trapped in Virginia’s underground cell.

“I know this isn’t ideal, but we have to dry our feet and boots,” I say.

Marcus nods curtly, not looking at me. “Yeah, you’re right.”

It’s dusk—within an hour, the sun will set and we’ll be in the dark. Marcus’s advanced aromium means he has good night vision, but I don’t.

We packed extra socks, so even though the socks we’re wearing now and our boots won’t dry fully if we stop for the night, the boots will dry enough that we can wear them tomorrow.

“There’s a good spot to stop for the night about a quarter of a mile from here,” he says.

We continue walking in silence, my stomach swirling with excitement at the prospect of stopping soon.

Then I can ride him. He wants me. I can give him what he wants most and then he’ll want more.

I push back at the thoughts aromium is putting in my head. I’m not having sex with any man on this island. It’s too dangerous. One of us has to be alert and on watch at all times.

Give in. Let yourself feel good. Fuck him.

The sound of rushing water ahead is welcome. Hopefully it means I can get clean. I’m covered with sweat and mud, my shirt soaked through.

“Fucking pests,” Marcus mutters as he smacks a bug on his arm.

Soon, we reach a clearing, where he finally turns around and makes eye contact with me.

“We can’t have a tent or a fire, but we can dry out here and you can get some sleep. You want to wash up in the waterfall?”

“Yeah, I’d love to.”

He leads me around a wall of rock and the waterfall comes into view. It’s not tall, but it’s wide, water gushing into a pool at its base. The pool is mostly surrounded by spiky vegetation and a plant with large yellow flowers, a grouping of boulders providing a place for me to get into the water.

Marcus’s face is drawn tight with tension as he passes me a bar of soap and turns his back on the pool. “I’ll keep watch. Let me know if you need anything.”

What I need is for him to follow me into the pool and explore every inch of my body with his hands. My skin prickles with desire for him to touch me, the sensation somewhere between itchy and uncomfortable.

I strip my clothes off quickly, the whisper of muggy air on my bare skin making desire pool between my thighs. If Marcus would just turn around ... we could be living out his fantasy within ten seconds.

The thought of him inside me makes me breathless. It’s been years since I did anything just because I wanted it. And I want him desperately. My nipples are peaked as I wade into the water, my gaze locked onto his back.

The faster I can finish this and get dressed, the better it will be for both of us. I bend my knees to submerge my head in the cool, crystal clear water, then lather the bar of soap until I have thick suds to wash my hair with.

Marcus’s shoulders are stock-still, his body tense and his chin dipped. While I’m washing my body, I imagine sneaking up behind him and tugging on the back of his shirt, forcing him to turn around and look at me.

He wants you. He’s greedy for your body. You can own him.

I force my mind away from the tempting thoughts, instead trying to remember the exact words to a paper I wrote for an English class. It was about Jack London.

By the time I’ve recalled what I think were the first couple of paragraphs, I’m clean and climbing out of the pool, wringing water from my long hair. I’m dripping as I approach Marcus and grab the pack he left behind him.

I sort through it, finding the set of dry clothes he packed for me. His heavy exhale steals my attention, and when I look up at him, his whole body is trembling.

“Are you okay?” I ask, worried.

“Just hurry up and get dressed.” His voice is clipped.

My brow furrows as I struggle to get into the clean clothes while still wet. He seems to be suffering, and it’s painful to watch.

“Are you in pain?” I ask him when I’m finally dressed.

“Not like you think of pain. I just have to adjust to the aromium.”

I hesitate, unsure how to ask him what I need to. “Are you feeling any urges to hurt me? Or anything else like that?”

He hums a sardonic note of laughter. “Nope. I just want to fuck you until my body gives out.”

Yes, yes, yes. Let him.

“Would ... a hug help?” I offer weakly.

“No.” He says it harshly. “Don’t touch me. I’ll have you underneath me on the ground in two seconds if you do.”

He’s still shaking all over, and aromium is telling me that only I can make it better. Or is it aromium? I don’t know.

“What about ... I don’t know, dry humping? Maybe if you could?—”

He puts a hand out to the side, cutting me off. “No. Stop talking. I’m not touching you with my aromium on. Keep watch while I clean up and then we’ll eat and you can sleep.”

I nod, cringing inwardly over my offer of dry humping . He takes the soap I offer and avoids looking at me as he walks closer to the water, pulling his sweat-soaked T-shirt off over his head.

The sight of his bronzed, muscled back and shoulders, plus aromium, is a combination that makes me start panting like an overworked dog.

My lips part and the dry underwear I just put on becomes a little less dry.

He kicks off his boots and pulls his wet socks off one at a time, and even that’s sexy.

Then he unfastens his pants and I hear him unzipping them. I shouldn’t be able to hear that from this far away, which means it’s the aromium.

My heart pounds, my breasts heavy and my throat dry. It takes every ounce of my self-control to turn around right before he pushes his pants down.

The water ripples when he steps into the pool. That’s the luckiest water in existence. It gets to touch him all over.

Remembering that we could be ambushed at any second, I scan the clearing and jungle. I refuse to die because I’m daydreaming about a man instead of paying attention to my surroundings.

Marcus is done within five minutes. I bite my fist as he gets dressed, fighting my urge to turn around.

“I’ll hang up our wet clothes,” I say, gathering his from the ground.

He only eats a couple bites of dried beef. I’m ravenous, so I eat more beef, a mango and some cashews. We haven’t spoken much, because I don’t trust what I might say.

“Sleep for a couple of hours,” he says. “We’ll get moving again after that.”

I’m exhausted when I curl up on my side, my bare feet dry and my stomach no longer growling with hunger. Even though I still want to get closer to Marcus, my feelings are dulled by my fatigue.

If our urges for each other are only going to get stronger from here, I don’t know how we’re going to get through what could be weeks—or more—of searching.

I’m close to giving in to the pull of sleep when two yellow lights in the darkened jungle catch my attention. I lift my head up.

“What are those lights?” I ask.

“Flavius’s eyes.”

The wolf. I squint and see that he’s sitting at the edge of the jungle, watching us. It doesn’t make me nervous. Somehow, I know he’s not here to hurt us, but to protect us if we need it.