Page 9 of Marked For A Bite (Rebellious Mates #2)

SEVEN

ZOE

S unlight filtered through the reinforced window of Logan's bedroom, casting golden patterns across his dark sheets.

Zoe stretched languidly, her body feeling more rested than it had in days.

For the first time since her birthday—since this nightmare began—she'd slept without the fear of losing control.

Logan's scent was everywhere. Mountain rain and something uniquely masculine that made her wolf hum with contentment.

She buried her face deeper into his pillow, breathing him in.

The restless energy that had plagued her for weeks was gone, replaced by something warmer and more settled.

Being here, surrounded by his essence, felt like coming home to a place she'd never known existed.

The memory of their kiss last night sent heat spiraling through her body.

The way he'd pulled back, how his control hung by a thread, and his green eyes darkened with hunger.

He'd wanted her—she felt it in every tense line of his body and heard it in the roughness of his voice.

But he was holding back, convinced he was protecting her somehow.

Stubborn alpha male.

Zoe smiled, rolling onto her back and staring up at the wooden ceiling.

He thought his dangerous life was something she couldn't handle, and that claiming her would somehow put her in more danger.

But danger was already hunting her. Those human operatives at her house proved that.

And honestly? She'd rather face whatever came next with Logan by her side than hide away with strangers at some safehouse.

Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, not with the violent, uncontrolled energy of the past few days, but with something deeper.

A knowing. Logan was hers, and she was his.

Ever since yesterday, she has felt some kind of unexplainable bond with him.

Something tangible and primal, and it hummed between them like electricity.

She pulled herself from the warmth of his bed, reluctantly leaving behind the cocoon of his scent.

Her backpack sat where she'd dropped it the night before, and she rifled through it, selecting a cream sweater that hugged her curves and dark jeans.

She left her hair down, knowing from the way his eyes darkened when her curls caught the light that he liked it that way.

The cabin was quiet as she padded down the narrow hallway toward the living room, her bare feet silent on the hardwood floors. She expected to find him sprawled across the couch, possibly still asleep, but the sight that greeted her made her pulse quicken.

Logan stood with his back to her, shirtless, his powerful frame silhouetted against the morning light streaming through the reinforced windows.

A mug of coffee steamed in his hand, and she could see the intricate map of scars across his shoulders and back—evidence of battles fought and survived.

His dark auburn hair was tousled from sleep, and when he turned at the sound of her approach, those deep green eyes swept over her with a burning intensity that made her breath hitch.

"Morning," he said, his deep voice rough with sleep and something darker. "Coffee's fresh."

She moved closer, hyperaware of the way his gaze tracked her movement, and the way his jaw tightened when she got within arm's reach. "Did you sleep at all?"

"Some." He handed her a mug, their fingers brushing in the exchange. The contact sent sparks racing up her arm, and she saw his pupils dilate in response. "You?"

"Better than I have in days." She took a sip of the coffee, rich and strong, then looked up at him through her lashes. "Your bed is very comfortable."

His knuckles went white around his mug. "Glad you got some rest."

The formal politeness in his tone made her want to laugh. He was trying so hard to maintain distance, but the bond between them crackled like a live wire. She could practically feel his wolf clawing beneath his skin, demanding he close the space between them.

"Logan." She set her mug down on the kitchen counter and stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. "We need to talk."

His jaw worked, a muscle jumping beneath the skin. "About?"

"About the fact that you're standing there half-naked, looking at me like you want to devour me, while trying to pretend you're not affected." She reached up, her fingertips barely grazing the scar that ran across his collarbone. "About the fact that we're mates, and you're fighting it."

He caught her wrist, his grip firm but gentle. "Zoe?—"

"No." She pulled free, her chin lifting with that stubborn defiance that seemed to both frustrate and fascinate him. "You keep telling me I don't know what I'm getting into, but you're wrong. I know exactly what I want."

His control visibly frayed, his breathing roughening. "And what's that?"

She stepped closer, eliminating the last inch of space between them, her body nearly flush against his. "You."

The coffee mug slipped from Logan's fingers as Zoe pressed her body against his, the ceramic hitting the counter with a soft clink. His hands found her waist, his fingers digging into the soft fabric of her cream sweater as she pulled his head down to meet hers.

The kiss ignited something primal between them.

Her lips moved against his with desperate hunger, and Logan's control finally crumbled like ash.

His hand tangled in her dark curls, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

Their tongues met in a dance that spoke of claiming and surrender, and of a bond that refused to be denied.

This might be madness, Zoe thought dimly, but her wolf purred with satisfaction. This is right.

Logan kissed her like she was the oxygen he desperately needed, like he'd been drowning without her.

The taste of him—coffee and something uniquely masculine—flooded her senses.

Her hands explored the hard planes of his chest, her fingers tracing over scars that told stories of battles fought and won.

Without warning, he lifted her, and her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively. The movement sent heat rushing through her core as he carried her to the leather couch, laying her down with surprising gentleness for a man so fierce.

"I told myself last night I wouldn't let my desire control me," Logan murmured against her throat, his lips trailing hot kisses down her neck. "But you're too irresistible and too stubborn to take no for an answer."

His confession sent shivers through her body. She arched beneath him, her hands roaming the broad expanse of his shoulders. "Just let go and feel," she whispered, her voice breathless.

His hands began their exploration, skimming over her curves with reverent hunger. The cream sweater suddenly felt like a barrier she desperately wanted gone. Every touch sent electricity racing through her veins, and she could feel her wolf rising, not with violence but with pure desire.

Logan's mouth found that sensitive spot where her neck met her shoulder, and she gasped. The sound seemed to drive him wild, his breathing roughening as his hands mapped her body like he was memorizing every inch.

He wants me so bad, the realization hit her with stunning clarity. Not just wants—needs. The same way I need him.

Just as his fingers found the hem of her sweater, his phone erupted into sharp, insistent rings.

"Ignore it," Zoe said quickly, pulling his face back to hers. "You can call whoever back."

Logan's jaw tightened, conflict warring in his green eyes. "As much as I'd like to do that, I know it's my Alpha Kieran."

The transformation was instantaneous and jarring. Logan rolled off her, his tender lover persona vanishing as the commanding enforcer took its place. His entire body went rigid with tension as he answered the phone.

"Kieran." His voice was clipped and professional.

Zoe watched his face darken, his jaw working as he listened. "Yes, I know I didn't tell you last night and I should've." A pause. "Yes, I know this isn't ideal."

The distress in Logan's voice triggered something fierce in Zoe's chest. That protective instinct—the same one that had driven her to fight that hunter yesterday—blazed to life.

She couldn't stand seeing him struggle and couldn't bear the way his shoulders tensed with whatever his Alpha was saying.

She wasn't going to wait another moment longer to see if Logan would actually hand her the phone and let her explain the situation herself.

Without a second thought, she stood up and ripped the phone from Logan's hand without asking.

"Hello," she said firmly into the device.

"This is Zoe Raymond, and I want you to know that it was my choice to come here to Logan's cabin, not his.

He made it very clear to me that I was supposed to stay at the safehouse, but I didn't want to.

I only feel safe with Logan, and I'm not leaving his side right now. "

Logan's eyes went wide with shock and something that might have been admiration.

A deep voice responded on the other end, controlled but clearly displeased. "Ms. Raymond, I appreciate your... directness. However, Logan has duties, and you would really be much safer and more guarded at the safehouse than with him."

"I don't believe that's true," Zoe shot back, her stubborn streak flaring. "I know he'll protect me, and I can handle being with him."

There was a brief pause, then a different voice came on the line—feminine, warm, and surprisingly understanding.

"Hello, Zoe. My name is Maya, and I'm Kieran's wife and the acting Luna of the Silvercrest pack."

Something about Maya's tone immediately put Zoe at ease. There was genuine kindness there, not the barely concealed frustration she'd heard from Kieran.

"I understand what you are going through," Maya continued. "I'm a hybrid myself, so I know how overwhelming this must be for you."

Relief flooded through Zoe like a dam bursting. "You are? You... you know what this feels like?"

"The partial shifts, the overwhelming sensations, feeling like you're losing your mind? Yes, I know exactly what that's like. And I understand why you feel safe with Logan. Sometimes we just know who we can trust."

Tears pricked at Zoe's eyes. Finally, ever since this nightmare began, someone truly understood.

"I'd love to meet with you later and talk more about it," Maya said gently. "And if you feel safe with Logan for now, then that's where you can stay. Can I speak to him, please?"

Zoe handed the phone back to Logan.

"Hello?" His expression shifted to something unreadable as he listened to Maya's instructions. "Understood," Logan said simply, then hung up.

He didn't immediately elaborate on what he'd agreed to, but something in his eyes had changed. A decision had been made.

The silence stretched between them after Logan ended the call, tension crackling in the air like electricity before a storm. Zoe couldn't stand it any longer—the way he stood there, all controlled and stoic and silent.

"What did Maya say?" she demanded, her bare feet carrying her closer to where he stood. "Why did you say 'understood' like you were accepting some kind of mission briefing?"

Logan's eyes flicked to hers, and she caught something there—anticipation mixed with hunger. His jaw worked as he considered his words, and the movement drew her attention to the strong line of his throat and then down to his bare chest.

God, he's handsome, and sexy.

"Maya thinks it's more appropriate if I personally start training you," he said finally. "Not only on how to shift into your wolf properly, but also on how to protect yourself. She thinks I'm the best person for the job."

Relief washed through Zoe, followed immediately by a rush of excitement that made her wolf howl with satisfaction.

"She seems to understand somehow that we're mates," Logan continued, his eyes darkening as they roamed over her face, "and that I'm the one to guide you."

Maya seemed to understand what Zoe herself was just beginning to grasp—that this connection between Zoe and Logan was deeper than attraction, more primal than desire. It was destiny.

"Training," Zoe repeated, her mind immediately conjuring images of Logan's hands on her body, guiding her movements and teaching her control. The thought sent heat to her core. "What kind of training exactly?"

His pupils dilated at the breathless quality in her voice. "The kind that will keep you alive if more hunters come. The kind that will help you control your wolf." He stepped closer, his voice dropping to that rough timber that made her knees weak. "The kind that requires trust."

"I trust you, Logan," she said without hesitation.

Something fierce and possessive flashed in his green eyes. "Go change into something that will allow more movement," he commanded, his alpha nature bleeding through. "But bring a change of clothes too. Your shifting is going to definitely ruin whatever you're wearing."

The practical instruction sent a thrill through her body. This was really happening. She was going to learn to shift, to become the wolf that had been clawing beneath her skin for days.

"Are you changing in your bedroom with me?" she asked, already heading toward the hallway, her heart hammering with anticipation.

"I suppose I need to change into something training appropriate as well," Logan said, following her.

In the bedroom, Zoe rummaged through her backpack with trembling fingers. The knowledge that Logan was changing clothes just feet away made her hyperaware of every sound.

Focus, she told herself, pulling out black leggings that would stretch with movement and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. Think about training.

But when she turned around, Logan was pulling a black henley over his head, the fabric sliding down over the magnificent landscape of his chest and abs. Dark cargo pants rode low on his hips, and combat boots completed the look that screamed dangerous and capable.

"Ready?" he asked, his voice low and rough.

Zoe nodded, excitement and anticipation coursing through her veins. "More than ready."