Forbidden Mate (9 page)

There was a feral sound nearby, reminding her of an
angry wolf. The previous mention of wolves obviously had her paranoid. Helen
managed to open her eyes and look across the room.

“Marco, back off,” said Targus.

He was actually still standing there? Watching them?

Although she felt extremely awkward knowing Marco
was in the same room, and a bit turned on, she was glad for the wake-up call.
She couldn’t do this, as much as she wanted to, she couldn’t. Getting to first
base with the man she’d met in the forest less than twenty-four hours ago
sounded like a recipe for disaster, no matter how natural it might feel. What
she needed to do was get back to her hotel and
keep
her mind on the job. There was no future with a one-night stand, and since she
didn’t live here, making an effort for something more lasting was pointless.

“Targus…”

“Tell me what you want, Helen.” He slowly peppered kisses
along her neck. “Is it flowers, diamonds?”
 
Apparently Targus didn’t have the same reservations about their
audience. “There’s something about you.
 
I can’t put my finger on it, but you drive me
crazy. All I can think about is—”

She was forcibly yanked from her seat, completely
taken off guard. Targus was on his feet within seconds, a look of fire in his
eyes.

“What in the name of the gods are you doing now?” he
demanded.

Marco still had his hand around her upper arm, his
fingers digging into her tender flesh. She looked back and forth between the
men, both masculine to a fault. They were like two unmovable mountains, both
blessed with the same extra-large muscular frames.

“Send her away or hand her over.
Your
choice.”

“Excuse me?” Targus’s voice lowered an octave, the
warning undeniable. “When the fuck did this happen?”

****

Targus loved Marco like a brother, but right now he
was seriously pissing him off. After years of pushing him to find a woman
beyond the royal palace, Marco was now the only roadblock to his happiness. For
the first time since losing his chance to court a princess—or ever—Targus had
the urge to mark a female. An urge so powerful it was overriding his logic. His
friend needed to back off the fuck off and give him space.

“You’re full of shit. Stop being a prick and leave
us alone.”

Marco whirled around, giving his back. He massaged
behind his neck while exhaling. “I don’t want this.”

“Good, because she’s not your
concern.”

Targus glanced over at Helen. She looked shell-shocked.
Any minute and he’d lose his chance to court her. She was a delicate human,
probably used to flowers and chocolate, not over-bearing alpha male shifters.
He was ready to offer her the world, but his chance was slipping away.

He was already riled up since coming inside. There
was a wolf creeping around outside their cabin. Although he’d picked up the familiar
scent, it was long gone. Where had he picked up that scent before? His mind was
a blank, but then again, a lot of wolves lived in and around the shifter town.

Targus’s urge to patrol his land and eliminate any
threat was difficult to control. And his best friend was fucking losing it,
showing signs of aggression and possessiveness. This was the worst possible night
for Helen to show up, but then again he only had a few days to prove his worth.

“I can’t be near her,” said Marco, taking a few
steps back. The crazed look in his eyes worried Targus. He’d never seen his
friend so out of control. There had been some bad years since he’d lost his
mate, even recently with his stunt at the local bar. This new side of him was
unnerving. Was he angry because Targus had invited a human to their house? Or
did he really hope to steal her away?

 
“Come on,” he
said, nudging Marco to follow him outside. He gave Helen a brief smile and
commented before leaving the cabin. “Two more minutes and then
I’m
all yours.”

The door whined shut behind him. The darkness
immediately soothed his eyes and brought his beast back to the surface. Too
much emotion was doing a number on him. He wanted to tear his clothes off and
run through the trees, but he had to push away his baser instincts. Once the
door shut behind Marco, Targus stood his ground and waited for his friend to
explain his behavior.

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Marco.

“You’re the one who keeps telling me to live my
life, fall in love, and take chances. But the first time I show genuine
interest in a woman, you try to ruin everything. Why? Is it because she’s
human?”

“It should be, but no.”

“That must be it.” He raised his voice, deep-seated
issues rushing to the surface. “She’s not a hunter or trapper, Marco. She’s not
the enemy—just a girl, human or not.”

“I never said I had a problem with her!”

“Then what?”

Marco paced the area, not looking him in the eye. “Look,
you’ve always wanted me to move on and stop living in the past.”

“Yeah.”

“Well this morning, for the first time, I saw a
light at the end of the tunnel.”

“What does this have to do with—” Targus’s words
caught in his throat. Marco wanted to claim his mate. Of all the women in
all the
world, why her?
 
Targus laughed out loud. “That’s not possible. You’ve sworn off women.
You tell me that all the time.”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t want this. I don’t
know what the fuck I want.”

Targus couldn’t believe this was happening. He felt
cheated and confused.
 
“It finally
happened to me, Marco. I can feel the mating call heat my blood, clear my head,
and give me strength. It’s all-consuming, like I can see in full color for the
first time—because of her. Fuck, you’re supposed to be happy for me!”

“I’d leave, Targus, and you know it. I’d lose my
skin and you’d never see me again.”

“But…”

“You know as well as me, it’s impossible to resist
the call.”

Why would the gods give two friends the same desire
for one woman? It was cruel and unjust. Targus always wanted Marco to find a
new mate, to start over and live life again. It was painful watching him fade
away over the years. But he wanted Helen, and although Targus would have given
anything for his friend’s happiness, he couldn’t hand over his woman. It would
have been kinder to ask for his life.

“What do you expect me to do?” How could he fight
Marco when he was like a brother? Any other male, he would have torn apart by
now.

Marco shrugged. “Let her decide.”

He growled and stormed up the wooden stairs into the
cabin.
Un-fucking-believable!
He
didn’t like the idea at all, but what choice did he have? Helen was standing
near the far window, looking out into the darkness. She turned around quickly
once she heard the door shut.

“I’m so sorry, pretty girl. This must be confusing
for you.”

“Should I leave?”

He touched her shoulder.
“Gods no.
I want you to stay, Helen. Give me a chance to fix things.”

She swallowed hard, continually looking to the floor,
an adorable mix of shyness and nerves.
 
“Is
Marco okay? He seemed upset.”

His mood soured. He was torn in two
directions—friendship and love. He couldn’t hand Helen over, but the thought of
Marco suffering because of this was tore him apart on the inside.

“He’s fine. He just outsi—”

His friend reentered the house, his heavy footfalls
causing the hardwood to creak with each step.

“Did she decide?” he asked, joining them by the
window. His voice was harsh and monotone. He obviously had no clue how to woo a
human female.

“Decide what?”

Targus’s jaw twitched. He wanted everything to be
perfect for the little human, the perfect courtship. Now it would likely be one
of her worst experiences, especially with Marco not holding back his unrefined personality.

He smirked, hoping to appeal to her compassion.
“Seems we both have eyes for the same woman.”

She instantly turned a soft shade of pink, her lips
parting slightly. He expected her to slap him in the face before doing the same
to Marco. He could already envision her storming out of the cabin, calling them
perverted freaks as she went.

Targus held his breath for what seemed like a
lifetime. Her reaction would define the rest of his life. If she refused him,
he knew he’d devote every waking hour to winning her love.

Marco moved closer, nearly crushing her against the
glass of the oversized window. “Tell me your choice, little one. If you choose
Targus, you’ll never see me again.”

He felt a twinge in his heart. His best friend would
actually step aside and disappear? Fight the mating call? He was more male than
him because Targus knew he’d be unable to walk away.

“It’s just a four day tour,” she whispered. “I don’t
know what either of you expect from me.”

“I can give you everything you need,” said Marco. He
combed his hand into her hair and tugged her head back at an odd angle. Rather
than cry out in pain, she closed her eyes and let out a shaky breath. Marco
pressed his body against hers and inhaled at the base of her neck. “Tell me
what you want.”

Targus’s patience was wearing thin. He wanted to be
the one touching her, but had to prove himself if he wanted her to choose him. Marco
was treating her like a she-wolf, something she wasn’t. His friend had lived
away from civilization for too long.

“I’ve trained for years in the art of pleasing a
woman,” Targus said.

“To please a princess,” Marco corrected.

The bastard was playing dirty. For a shifter
claiming to swear off all women, he was having a fast change of heart. Targus
shoved against his side to gain more room in front of Helen.
“I
promise, I only want you.
I have no love for the princesses.” He ran the
backs of his fingers tenderly along her cheek. Her eyes were so
deep,
he could stare into them forever.

“What princesses?”

He had to remember she was a human, innocent to
their world. What was normal for him was fantasy for her.
“The
queen’s daughters.
But they don’t matter now,” he assured. “Your scent
is branded on me.” Just saying the words spiked his arousal. His volatile
territorial defensiveness eased. He took a cleansing breath, Helen’s sweet
scent filling him.

“Why me?”

“You’re my mate,” Targus dared to reveal. His wolf
was tired of waiting, ready to make a claim.

He trailed his finger down the center of her chest.
She was wearing an annoyingly thick sweater when all he wanted was to feel the
heat of her skin. When he reached the bottom edge of the material, he slipped
his hand up.
 
She flinched when his rough
hand caressed the smooth bare skin along her side. He couldn’t believe a simple
touch could feel so intimate.

“I’m not that kind of girl,” she said.

“I know. That’s why I want you.” The air in the room
was thick with lust and desire. Targus’s wolf fed off Marco’s male domination
and Helen’s arousal. His fangs pricked his gums and his heart rate doubled its
speed.
 
He felt like an adolescent pup
around Helen. The right woman made all the difference.

Helen whimpered. “I can’t do this…”

He didn’t stop Marco when he began to kiss her neck.
He needed all the help he could get in keeping her from running off. Targus wanted
Helen to let down her guards so he could have a chance to prove himself as a
male. He couldn’t expect a human girl to commit her whole life to him in a
matter of hours. They didn’t live off instinct and raw emotion like shifters,
rather following their false logic and rigid societal expectations.

She worried her lip, moving her head aside for
Marco’s exploration. Targus’s cock throbbed uncomfortably, his urge to fuck
making him nearly delirious. He slid his hand higher, cupping her full breast
through the lace cup of her bra. Her nipple was pebbled hard, another
temptation. He wanted her naked and spread open for him. He’d start with her
tits and slowly move down her body, exploring every inch of flesh with his
mouth and tongue.

When Helen suddenly cried out in pain, Targus
knew—Marco had marked her.

Chapter
Seven

Helen wasn’t sure why she’d come out to the remote
cabin in the first place. But she knew she came for more than a casual dinner
invitation. She was drawn to her mysterious strangers in ways she couldn’t
explain. They were dark and brooding, men with such potent sex-appeal, it was
useless to resist. How bad could one night of anonymous sex be after living her
entire life on the straight and narrow? She was in the middle of nowhere. Who
would find out if she indulged in either of these tattooed hunks?