Page 31 of Predator (Stope Packs #4)

Fury churned through Jackson, hot and sharp, as he stared at the graceful wolf. What the hell had she been thinking, putting herself in danger like that? His pulse pounded in his ears. He could finally take what he wanted. What he’d needed since the first time he laid eyes on her. “You want to live?” he asked, his voice rough.

Emily squared her shoulders, her hands settling on her hips. At least she had enough sense to dress for the weather in jeans, a thick sweater, and a coat that clung to her frame. Her boots were lined with fur—thanks to Raya, no doubt.

“Of course, I want to live,” Em said evenly. “But I’m not going to mate you just to survive.”

“Oh, yeah?” Her scent permeated the air, close enough to fill him. “Baby, I’m not giving you a choice.”

“Of course, you are.” Her eyes flashed with defiance. “I know you better than that, Jackson. You’re not the type of male who forces anyone into anything.”

The fact that she was right just pissed him off. “Were you running from me?” he asked mildly.

She blinked. “No.”

His chin lowered. “What did you think would happen once I learned the truth? That mating me might save you?”

She put her hands on her hips, all defiant female. “I won’t use you like that.”

Something dark and primal ran through him. “Use me?”

“Yes. I’m not into some pity mating, either.”

She was scared. He could sense it. Taste it. Of him? Or of herself?

“Em,” he said, his voice low, rough. “You could’ve died in that wreck out there. Or frozen to death. What the hell was going through your head?”

Her breath hitched, but she held her ground. The wind howled against the stone walls outside, but inside, the world narrowed to just the two of them, the fire crackling behind him with its own energy.

She shoved her hands into her coat pockets, but Jackson had already noticed the slight tremor in her fingers. She wasn’t healthy. He could fix that. He had to.

“Nothing. I’m not going to discuss it.” Her voice wavered, but her chin lifted with pure stubbornness.

“That’s not going to work.” Before she could react, he grasped her waist and lifted her, setting her on the ancient table and stepping between her legs. He moved deliberately, unzipping her coat and sliding it off her shoulders, his fingers brushing against the soft wool of her sweater. The air inside the stone cabin had already begun to warm, but the heat between them burned hotter. “What is going through your head, Em?” His voice dropped lower, rough with something that had nothing to do with anger.

“Nothing,” she said quickly, though her breath hitched. “I just want to go home, keep Vic from taking over, and make sure my dad is healing all right.”

“I get that.” Jackson’s hands rested lightly on her thighs, holding her still. “But to live, you need to mate. Right?”

She shook that smooth mane of spun gold hair. “It’s just a theory,” she whispered.

“Just a theory?” His gaze locked onto hers. “Don’t you understand? This makes sense. We make sense.” They always had. He’d always known it, even if he couldn’t figure out how to make it work.

Her pulse thudded against her ribs. The air between them thickened, heavy with hunger…and need.

“It’s not a good idea,” she whispered.

“Why not?” His voice dropped even lower. He wasn’t about to let Emily Nightsom die when there was a chance, no matter how slim, he could save her.

“Because it probably won’t work, Jackson,” she said softly, her eyes searching his. “You don’t get it. If we mate, there’s a good chance I’ll still die. Maybe next week, maybe in six months. But don’t you see? If we’re together, it’ll break you if I die. I’ve always known that.”

“So have I,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “But I’m taking that chance.”

She shook her head, her breath hitching. “I can’t leave you alone. I won’t do that to you.”

Realization hit him, heavy and sweet all at once. She was trying to protect him. He brushed snow from her hair, his thumb lingering just above her cheek. “You’re worried about me,” he said, more statement than question.

“Yeah,” she admitted. “You’re big, strong, and mean when you need to be, but I remember the kid you were when your dad died. I know what that loss feels like. I miss my mom every day. I can’t mate you and then leave you. I won’t.”

“Then don’t.” His hands planted firmly on either side of her hips as he leaned closer. “Between the two of us, we have the strongest bloodline there is. If there’s any way to fix this, I’m it. And I’m not giving you a choice.”

His gaze locked onto hers, fierce and unyielding. He could force her hand, but he didn’t want that. He needed her to choose him.

Her breath quickened, eyes wide with something she couldn’t mask. Desire flared hard and fast, too obvious to hide. But she tried. She looked away. “I can mate another Alpha.”

“Not in this lifetime.” Fire churned inside his chest. “I’ll kill anyone you let close enough to try.”

Her gaze slashed back to his, and he let her see the truth in his. Not one bit of him was lying. He would rip apart anybody who tried to take her. It was too late for either of them. Not just because of her illness and the chance to save her but because it had been too late the second he kissed her all those years ago.

“There’s only one path for either of us, and you know it,” Jackson murmured, his pulse pounding in his ears. “We both know if I kiss you, the discussion is over. We’ll combust. You know it. I know it.”

“Then don’t kiss me,” she shot back, her chin tilting in a challenge so clear it almost made him smile.

“Emily.” His voice dropped lower. “You told me you wanted to live. That you were tired of holding back. Tired of not feeling everything.”

“I know,” she whispered. “But I won’t risk?—”

He was done talking. “The fuck, you won’t.” His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back as he took her mouth in a hard, claiming kiss. Her moan vibrated against his lips, desire flaring hotly between them, sharp enough to steal his breath. He kissed her deeper, pouring every ounce of his wildness into her.

Her hands gripped his shirt, fingers twisting in the fabric before she yanked it upward. He broke the kiss just long enough for her to drag it over his head, the air cool against his heated skin. Then his mouth was back on hers. Rough, unrelenting, and desperate. His hands gripped her waist, sliding under her sweater to feel the heat of her skin. There was no space for hesitation. The time for thinking was over.

For the first time in her entire life, the wolf and Emily merged into one. Thought faded, leaving only sensation. She accepted Jackson’s kiss as if she had a choice, then kissed him back just as fiercely, her nails scraping down the hard planes of his chest. Bruises and nearly healed cuts marred his skin, evidence of recent battles.

“Why are you wounded?” she asked, her breath ragged.

“Killed a bunch of wolves,” he muttered against her mouth, his voice rough as he pressed her back onto the table. The cool stone chilled her skin, and the ancient metals whispered beneath her.

He stripped off her boots and pants with swift efficiency.

“Ravencall?” she guessed.

“Yeah. Don’t say that word again when I have you naked.”

“I’m not naked.”

He paused, gaze dropping to her feet.

“No socks this time,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She was totally on board for sex. For mating? She couldn’t do that to him.

His grin was wicked, slow, and deliberate as he bent down. Sliding both socks off with deliberate care, he palmed her feet, his thumbs brushing the arches.

“You don’t have a foot thing, do you?” she asked, her breath hitching.

“No,” he murmured. “I have a my-mate-almost-froze-to-death thing. Your feet aren’t too chilly.”

Without warning, he leaned in and bit the arch of one. Heat shot up her leg, fast and sharp, arrowing straight to her core. Her gasp echoed in the space between them, and his smile only deepened as he moved upward.

“You’ll be warm enough in a minute,” he promised, gripping her thighs and yanking her toward him. She yelped, sliding across the cool metal and stone of the table. His mouth found her ankle, licking and nipping his way up the inside of her leg, leaving heat in his wake.

“I’m not sure we should do this on a piece of art,” she managed, her breath hitching.

“Oh, this is exactly where we should,” he murmured, right before his lips closed over her clit.

The orgasm hit so fast it stole her breath, her body arching as pleasure crashed through her. Every thought of holiness and centuries-old tables vanished as she shattered against him. Beneath her, the table seemed to hum with heat, or maybe that was just Jackson. She couldn’t tell.

He moved to her other thigh, his teeth grazing her skin, leaving marks that burned with sensation. His palms slid up the backs of her calves, thumbs pressing just enough to make her shiver.

Then his mouth enclosed her clit again before moving lower. This time, he lingered, teasing her, bringing her to the edge, only to pull back. She squirmed, arching toward him, but he held her firmly in place. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling as if she could guide him back to where she needed him the most.

“Jackson,” she moaned, her voice rough with need. His answer was a sharp nip to her clit and the sudden thrust of two fingers inside her. Her gasp echoed in the room as sensation shot through her, sharp and deep. She arched off the surface, crying out his name as wave after wave of pure ecstasy tore through her, sharp and unrelenting. “Oh, God, this might kill me,” she whimpered, breathless and trembling. She came down somehow, impossibly wanting more.

He stood, muscled and fierce, his hands flattening against her abdomen before sliding upward, fingers curling around her rib cage as he caressed her heated skin. His touch lingered, deliberate, until his palms cupped her breasts. He hummed low, a rough sound that vibrated against her bones. Leaning down, his hair brushed her first, soft and fleeting, before his whiskers grazed her skin with a commanding burn. Then his mouth closed over her nipple, hot and demanding.

He licked, kissed, and nipped, his teeth tugging just enough to send sharp bursts of pleasure through her. The contrast of roughness and control unraveled her, her hips shifting against nothing as need clawed through her veins. He chuckled against her breast, the sound dark and wicked.

Sliding his hand between her thighs, he pressed two fingers inside her again, curling them just enough to stroke that spot that made her entire body tighten. His thumb found her clit and rubbed with slow, devastating pressure. Her breath hitched, then broke as the orgasm seized her, intense and all-consuming. She gasped, arching against him, every nerve sparking with sensation until she collapsed against the table, completely wrung out.

Before she could catch her breath, his mouth found hers. The kiss was hard, raw, and possessive, stealing what little air she had left. He pinned her beneath him, chest to chest, skin to skin, his heat sinking deep into her bones. Power radiated off him in waves, thick and unyielding. His eyes went beyond mere blue, shifting into something primal, a color without a name. Sharp, focused, and predatory. His gaze locked onto hers with an intensity that sent a shiver straight down her spine. He leaned in, their breaths mingling as he kissed her. Deep, demanding, and dangerous.

“Say yes.” His voice was rough and edged with something wild. “I could push you there and we both know it. Say it now.”

This felt right. It shouldn’t, but she was tired of fighting. She’d deal with reality later. “Yes.” The word fell from her lips without hesitation. There was no other answer.

Something in him shifted. Something subtle but undeniable. His hands gripped her waist, and he lifted her effortlessly, flipping her onto her hands and knees atop the ancient table. The metal burned against her knees and palms, but she didn’t care. Anticipation coiled hot and heavy in her core.

He pulled her back toward him without preamble, no more waiting, no more holding back. His hips drove forward, and he impaled her in one fierce thrust. Air rushed from her lungs as pain sliced through her, sharp and blinding, only to melt into a liquid warmth that spread through her veins. She gasped, clutching at the table, but he gave her no time to adjust. He pounded into her, each thrust harder, faster, and more relentless.

Her head dropped forward, hair falling into her face, but his hand pressed firmly between her shoulder blades, holding her down and opening her to take every inch of him. He didn’t slow, didn’t ease up. He took what he wanted, his control stripped away, leaving only raw, untamed need. Her pulse pounded in her ears, drowning out everything except the sound of their bodies colliding, the ragged breaths, and the helpless moans torn from her throat.

Pleasure built fast and sharp, climbing higher with every thrust until she thought she might break apart. Her body vibrated with tension, each nerve stretched to the brink until the heat inside her burned white-hot. Then he leaned over her, his breath hot against her shoulder, rough stubble scraping her skin. His teeth grazed her flesh and then sank deep. Pain and pleasure fused in a shockwave that shattered her world, and she screamed as her climax ripped through her, raw and unrestrained.

Her body convulsed with the force of her release, every nerve burning white-hot. Somewhere deep inside her, something shifted as if locking into place. The world narrowed to the heat between them and the sound of her ragged breaths.

As her eyes fluttered open, the metal beneath her seemed to ripple and shift like molten and melding metals, though it remained solid beneath her.

Jackson kept moving, driving her through the aftershocks until she gasped, her cries soft and breathless. When the tremors finally slowed, he withdrew his fangs and flipped her over to sit on her butt with effortless strength, lifting her hips and plunging inside her again.

“Your turn,” he growled, his voice rough and primal.

Instinct overrode thought. Her wolf surged forward, and she leaned up, sinking her fangs into the skin directly above his heart. The taste of his blood hit her tongue instantly. Coppery and powerful, filling her senses with raw energy.

His body shuddered against hers as he thrust deeper, muscles tightening with brutal force. His growl rumbled through his chest as he came, his release surging deep inside her.

She slowly retracted her fangs, licking the wound she knew would mark him forever.

He lowered her onto the table again, his hands brushing her hair away from her face before capturing her mouth in a kiss. Hard, fierce, and possessive, he left no doubt that she was now his.

Forever.