Authors: Carys Weldon
Chaos is the meanest motherfucking garou on the planet. Least, as far as I know. His reputation reaches beyond...well, beyond any place I’ve ever gone. And places I never wanna go.
But he’s the rising star of Pack City. Just made alpha. That was a bloody bath. Makes me shiver to think about it, and I’m not squeamish.
Let’s just say, the guy has no mercy. When he hunts something down, there ain’t nobody anywhere that’s left unshaken because he’s one of those guys with a true bloodlust. He’d slaughter a room full of innocents if one misspoke or looked him in the eye.
So yeah, I was thinking
holy shit, I’m fucked.
Because I was looking him straight in the eye, panicking, and I knew he could smell that.
I should’ve had the sense to avert my gaze, to look subservient, but I couldn’t. He had me in his sights. I couldn’t have looked away from his big browns to save my life.
You gotta understand--he mesmerized me.
He’s focused, intent, and he’s got eyes that stare down into your soul. And if that ain’t freaking enough, he’s a fucking mind-talking bastard. He reads your thoughts. He can head you off before you knew you were running away from him.
So, yeah, you could say that I was not happy to find I’d done the ultimate stupid--slept with a guy who could kill me without a freaking second thought. Bad son-of-a-bitching temper.
I was scared.
Sitting on the stupid toilet, tears on my cheeks, caught with eyeballs full of ‘em, in fact, and there he goes and walks in on me...catches me in his shirt, barefoot, no place to run--feeling sorry for myself. And he’s blocking the freaking door like a Mack truck in a tight alley. A mouse couldn’t have slipped past him. And I’m a whole lot bigger than a mouse.
Damn moose. Five foot nine on my short days--when I’m not crinos. Pretty big boned. Flat freaking chested. Gaia doesn’t love us all, apparently.
All I wanted was two minutes of peace.
Swallowing, apparently, was for the angels of the world, and I was anything but that. My throat locked up.
It was easy to see that Chaos could read my mind.
play at that. But I hated being seen through, so I worked harder at putting up the blocks. He’d just caught me unawares. I tried to focus. I forced a mind wall.
That made him smile.
Holy shit, he was fucking gorgeous. It wasn’t just his scent that made women freak. It was everything about him. Too beautiful to be so ruthless. Too handsome to be so ugly. Just kind’ve makes you forget your brain, he’s so Gaia-damned sexy.
Tanned, towering, six and a half feet of sheer muscle with thick, brown hair...everywhere.
I didn’t realize I was trembling. Not until he stepped in and clicked the door shut behind him, saying, “I thought you’d run off.” He smiled--with lots of teeth--when he said, “Thought I’d have to hunt you down.”
Okay, that made me swallow, hard.
Eeking, “I couldn’t find my clothes,” I made him chuckle.
“No shit.” He moved to the sink, opened the cabinet, and--first thing--pulled out his toothbrush.
You know I liked that.
I had plenty of time to look at his body from this new angle. Light filtered in from a high frosted glass--or was that calcium crusted?--window.
Chaos had pretty much anything a woman would want. Tight abs. Firm chest. An ‘oh my Gaia’ manhood.
It was erect. I guessed he probably had to go to the bathroom.
He glanced over at me mid-brush and said, “Nah.”
I swiped the tears from my cheeks, tried to get a grip--a little embarrassed. Thought I’d serve him up right for sneaking into my head. I concentrated real hard with
I think you’re chicken shit to read my mind without my permission.
Son-of-a-bitch just laughed, rinsed his brush and mouth, wiped his face on a towel, then turned to me and asked, “Is that right?”
Okay. I knew I’d bitten off more than I could chew. All I really wanted was to get the hell out of there. I glanced past him, toward the door.
He said, “Go ahead. Make a run for it. I like a good chase.” He seemed pretty happy about the whole thing.
I blew a little air out my nose, ran a hand through my short-cropped, bleached white hair. I knew it made my black eyes (and long black lashes) stand out--too punk. Too haunting with my pale skin--when I was tired.
Chaos told me later that he thought I looked pretty cool and nonchalant. But truth was, I was beyond that. Just trying to think, barely passing the migraine action, ya know?
Running was out of the question. He was a freaking garou. Thrill of the hunt. Delight of the nab and grab. Joy of the slap down. Oh, hell no. I was not gonna be able to run.
At least, not for long. So, yeah, I considered it. But his smirking sideways grin--too frigging damned cute and assured--had me lifting my chin and saying, “Ya know what? I’d rather die fighting.”
Chaos laughed again. “Feisty bitch, aren’t you?”
Fucking scared to death, was more like it. But I was counting breaths, thinking...I’d finally done it. Gone home with the guy that would be the death of me.
Chaos wasn’t big--as garou go. But his intensity just fills the room around him. You know he’s thinking of pouncing, that he’s capable of killing. That he could eat you alive, given half the chance.
I closed my eyes, blocking out that stare that looked right through my defenses. I whispered, “I made a mistake last night. Just let me leave.” My mind squeaked,
please just let me leave.
Silence spread between us, thick as a log, heavier than a concrete slab.
When he finally said, “I don’t want you to leave,” I felt my chest squeeze.
Still, I refused to open my eyes. I prayed silently, “Gaia help me.” I was afraid to think beyond that. I didn’t want him to read anything in my brain. Anything that might set off his temper, right?
It surprised me when he said, “You’re fucking cute. Ya know that?”
Me? Cute? I mean, sure, I had a few things going for me. But generally I didn’t think of myself like that. I thought of myself as, well, a dysfunctional mess. A girl who did her best and always fell a little short of whatever it was she was aiming for. Though, I hadn’t really aimed for anything specific, if that makes sense.
You could say that Chaos helped me focus all that energy, and pent up frustration that I had. Everything I’d been aiming at myself. But first, before he could do that, he had to get through to me, pick up my pieces.
I straightened my shoulders, flattened my feet on the tiles and told him flatly, “You already had me. No flattery required, thanks.”
Truth be told, I felt captive there on that damned toilet seat. Thank Gaia the lid was shut. I don’t know what I’d have done if he’d caught me peeing. I’d have probably just kept on peeing.
We both grinned over that thought.
He reached out, holding a hand in the air as an invitation for me to take it, to stand up. I hesitated on that, eyed it pretty hard, and his face, too. His chin lifted a little in a jerk, like, go ahead, take it.
I didn’t want to look him in the eye. I knew he had a hypnotic effect on people.
But I also knew that it wasn’t smart to refuse a guy like that. Especially in close quarters with nowhere to run. So tentatively I reached out, too, took his hand and let him pull me to my feet.
Chaos tugged, inviting me closer in a silent, almost imperceptible gesture. He wanted me
to want to
come to him. I could feel that. Now, that confused me. I mean, I knew that a million chicks were all over him, digging everything about him, liking the danger, taking advantage of all that he is, the power he exemplifies. So, why me? The one girl who’d finally figured out that wanting something more was just plain...moronic.
I closed my eyes, thinking
oh hell yeah, yesterday was damn sure a suicide day...you stupid bitch.
He yanked me into his arms then. Steel bands wrapped around me. His hard body stole my breath.
I blinked into his adam’s apple, my hands somehow caught between us. In fact, I don’t even remember him letting go of my hand. That’s how fast he moves.
“Tee.” He wanted me to look at him.
Hold up right here for a minute. I have to say--it was a good sign that he’d at least learned my name.
Closing my eyes, I took the lazy way out. No verbal answer. Just thought
if you can read my thoughts, then freaking kill me and get it over with.
Chaos surprised me, then. A gentle hand tipped my chin up, held me there while he looked at my face. And I heard his thoughts.
I like your freckles.
That made my eyes pop open.
He was flirting with me?
Half smirking, he leaned down and kissed me. So, okay. Holy shit. This freaking monster kissed me sweet. You know, gentle pressure, tender touching of lips, something so...so light that I wanted to cry. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy had kissed me like that.
Or when I had trembled in a man’s arms, so hard, that I was a half-inch from tears and being a baby in a basket case. This feeling of fragility scared me more than anything.
Yep. I had finally found a man who felt like a man around me, made me feel like a woman. Not just a psycho bitch, ya know?
I lashed out. He was too close to touching the real me. You understand. Don’t you?