Chapter 47
+25 Points
Jake stormed into his room, Rome surging close to the surface. His fingers flexed, jaw tight, teeth grinding. The suit he had worn for meetings felt suffocating now. He yanked the tie and threw it onto the floor, the jacket following a moment later in a frustrated arc towards the
corner.
He was halfway to the bathroom when he froze.
Lyra was sitting in the center of his bed, her long hair damp from the shower, wearing only one of his shirts. Her legs were drawn to her chest, her chin resting on her knees, as she watched him with wide eyes. She looked so vulnerable.
The anger drained from him in an instant.
In three strides, he was at the bed. He didn’t hesitate. He crawled up beside her and pulled her tightly against his chest.
She didn’t resist. She melted into him with a breathless sound, her fingers fisting in the fabric of his dress shirt. She pushed closer, burying her face in his chest as he wrapped both arms around her tightly as though she might slip away.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her hair. “I’m so sorry.”
He didn’t even know exactly what he was apologizing for, just that he wanted to take away the weight she was carrying. All of it. The break–in. The fear. The way his father spoke about
her. The way she must have known some people in this pack would never see her for who
she truly was.
Her shoulders trembled. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. He could feel the way her heart pounded against his ribs. The way her breathing shuddered.
“I should have protected you better,” he whispered. “You should never have walked into that house like that. You should have never had to see it.”
“I heard your dad.” Her voice was muffled in his chest. “I heard him and Drew talking to you.”
Jake tightened his grip on her, one hand cradling the back of her head, the other curled protectively around her waist. He closed his eyes, breathing her in, grounding himself in her
scent.
“I’ll fix it,” he promised against her temple. “I don’t care what it costs. I’ll make it right.”
“No one in this pack is going to accept me.”
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He exhaled slowly, his throat tight. “I don’t care if they do.”
+25 Points
“But you should.” She leaned back slightly to look up at him, her eyes glassy. “You’re the Alpha. You have to think about the pack.”
“I am,” he said firmly. “You are part of this pack. And if they can’t see what I see in you, that’s on them.”
He paused, brushing a lock of hair away from her cheek. “But I won’t lie to you. It’s not going to be easy. They are scared of what they don’t understand. And fear makes people cruel.”
She nodded faintly, her gaze dropping.
Jake tilted her chin up gently. “But I’m not going to let them drive you awa
”
my dad or Drew say. Or what anyone else says, for that matter. I choose you,
care what
- ra. Every time.
Her lips parted like she wanted to say something, but instead she just leaned forward and kissed him, soft and slow. There was nothing hungry about it, no urgency. He kissed her back, his hands trembling as they came up to cup her cheeks, as if the thought of losing her was the one thing that could truly break him.
Her fingers slid up, threading into his hair as she deepened the kiss. Jake groaned softly, the sound caught between his throat and her mouth, his hand sliding down to the curve of her hip. She shifted in his lap, straddling him slowly. The hem of his shirt rode up around her thighs, and the warmth of her center pressed flush against him through the thin barrier of his slacks.
“Lyra,” he gasped, his voice hoarse. “I need you. I need to touch you.”
“I want to,” she whispered against his lips. “I want you to touch me. I want to feel something that isn’t anger or fear.”
That did it.
He surged forward, kissing her like it might be the last time, like she was air and he’d been drowning all day. His hands moved over her body, reverent and hungry all at once. He gently pulled the shirt over her head, revealing warm skin and the soft curve of her breasts.
She undid his shirt next, her fingers trembling as she worked the buttons, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. He leaned forward, his mouth finding one of her n*****s. She arched into him, her nails raked gently down his back as she whispered his name.
Jake laid her back against the pillows, trailing kisses down her throat, her chest, the curve of her stomach. He shed his pants and boxers before sliding down her panties. He hooked his
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hands behind her knees, pulling her towards the edge of the bed. Her eyes met his, so wide and so trusting that it nearly undid him.
“I need to taste you,” he said, voice ragged.
Her breath hitched. “Please.”
He sank between her thighs and dragged his tongue over her slowly, tasting her, memorizing her texture and her smell. She gasped, her hips lifting toward his mouth as his hands held her steady. Every needy sound she made only fueled him.
He slid a finger inside her, bending it slightly until he hit that part inside her that made her cry
gasping out. He sucked on her clit, flicking it with his tongue until she came apart and shaking under his hands.
He kissed her thigh gently and moved up her body, aligning himself with her. He pushed into her slowly, both of them gasping at the sensation. She was warm and tight and wet, and he had to pause once he was fully seated inside her just to get his bearings.
Jake kissed her jaw as he started to move his hips. Her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands threaded through his hair, holding him close. He trailed kisses down her neck, landing on her marking spot.
He could feel it, the desire to sink his fangs into her skin. He nearly drooled at the thought of it, his hips ratcheting up the pace as he slammed inside her. He grazed his teeth lightly over the spot and felt her stiffen ever so slightly.
Not now. He knew it wasn’t the moment. That he needed to know she was sure before he did it. But the temptation was killing him so he forced his head up, crashing his lips into hers, swallowing her delicious moans.
He thrust deeper, harder, her name falling from his lips. And when she clenched around him with a soft cry, he followed her into the release, holding her through it, his lips pressed to her
throat.
He didn’t move right away. Instead he released his weight, pressing her into the mattress, waiting for his heart rate to slow.
She kissed him right over the heart. “Thank you.” Her voice was quiet, muffled.
Jake pushed up on his forearms to see her face. “For what?”
“For choosing me. For seeing me.”
He kissed her, slow and lingering.
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:
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Jake slipped out of bed once Lyra was sound asleep. He tucked the blankets around her and kissed her forehead gently before heading to the closet. He pulled on a pair of joggers and padded down the hallway, not bothering with a shirt.
The light in his office was still on.
Callan and Russ were sitting at the table in the corner, both holding tumblers of scotch. A third glass sat empty, waiting for him.
“You’ve got a love mark on your shoulder,” Russ said with a smirk.
Jake looked down, rubbed the spot absently, and shrugged. “It’ll fade.”
He sat and poured himself a drink. “Thanks for being there for her,” he said to Russ.
Russ’s smirk faded. He nodded once. “She’s one of my best friends.”
Jake nodded. “Still. Thanks.”
“I can’t believe someone would do that.” Russ stared into his glass. “Everything was trashed. Totally destroyed. They’ll need all new stuff.”
Jake took a sip of the scotch, enjoying the burn. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Any idea who it was?” Callan asked. “Did my dad or yours say anything?”
Jake shook his head. “They denied everything. But who else could it be? The only people who knew about the journals were Drew and Christian.”
“They’re hidden somewhere in the packhouse, right?” Russ asked.
Jake nodded. “I didn’t ask where. At the time, Lyle and Donovan didn’t really trust me, so Lyra hid them. She said Callan helped.”
“I did,” Callan said. “And I’m not telling anyone where they are.”
Jake gave a tired smile. “Good.”
He glanced at both of them. “We need to figure out what Mary Hart was. We need someone who knows.”
“Megan tried my mom today,” Callan said. “All she got was a headache and some passive–aggressive comments about nursery paint.”
“I could try talking to my mom,” Jake said. “Maybe I’ll have better luck.”
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Russ frowned. “There’s got to be another angle. What has Lyra told you about her mom?”
Jake paused. “She could see auras. Colored mists that represented emotions. She said certain words had colors, and she could tell if someone was lying by the color they left
behind.”
“And Lyra has that too?” Callan asked.
“Only since coming back to the pack. It’s rare, and it happens briefly.”
“I’ll check the pack library tomorrow,” Russ said, finishing his drink. “Jake, talk to your mom. Callan, maybe try yours again too.”
They all nodded. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was something.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
