Virtue: A Knight World Novel (Fireborn Wolves Book 2) Page 7

  Selene didn’t seem to notice his lascivious stare. She plopped the full plate in front of him and handed him a fork. “Please don’t take this the wrong way but I’ve noticed you’ve lost weight,” she said. “Do you eat regularly?” Her voice was full of caring and concern, but all Jason’s cock heard was a sultry murmur.

  “Hmm?” He stared at the round curve of her hip.

  She wandered back toward the food and started loading another plate. “Eating? Have you been… regularly?”

  “Uh. I’ve been busy. Work and things. Plus, I don’t cook.” His lids drooped as he followed the line of her body from thigh, to shoulder, to that long caramel-colored ponytail that swung behind her. He’d like to roll his hand in the length of it, tug her head back, and explore her mouth with his.

  She cleared her throat. “Is something wrong?”

  “Not at all.”

  “You are… um… staring at me.” She plated the food and walked to the table, taking the seat across from him.

  “How could I not stare?” Jason flashed his practiced smile. “You’re exquisite.”

  For a moment, she blinked at him, her body leaning closer as she studied his face and inhaled deeply through her nose. Then all at once she broke from his gaze and shook herself. “I’m also celibate, Jason. Your condition is going to make you see things that aren’t there for a while. You might even see me as a potential target of your vice. But that’s not who I am.”

  He swallowed a bite of breakfast, fixating on her full lips.

  “Who are you then?” he asked.

  “I’m the one who decides when you get to leave this apartment.” There wasn’t a hint of humor in her voice, her back straight, her jaw tight.

  Under her unwavering gaze, Jason continued to eat, surprised how hungry he actually was. “What’s in this? There’s an aftertaste.”

  “It’s an herb designed to support the healing process. The bitterness you taste is valerian root. It has a calming effect on your sympathetic nervous system.”

  “You’re trying to drug me?”

  “I’m trying to make it so you can sleep.” She lowered her voice and turned her attention toward her food. “I heard you last night.”

  He swallowed the food in his mouth, mortified at the possibility she’d heard him pleasure himself. “What exactly did you hear?”

  “You were showering in the middle of the night,” she said matter-of-factly. “I presume the physical withdrawal symptoms were to blame. Racing pulse, sweating, crawling skin.”

  “I thought you said you’d never done this before?” In fact, he’d had all of those symptoms at one point or another last night.

  “Not with a vice like yours. I have never treated a sexual vice, but I have studied alcohol addiction in werewolves. There are similarities.”

  God she was beautiful, but she addressed him like a toddler. Was she judging him? Pitying him? The way she’d brushed off his advances was cold as ice, rigid, all kinds of palm up and no way. It made him horny as hell. Not only was she beautiful, she’d proved herself feisty. How he longed to tame her, bring her to her knees.

  He took another bite, enjoying the fantasy that played out in his head. Selene on her knees. But even as he reveled in it, the vision warped from a sexual one to something else entirely. Selene on her knees in her ceremonial robes, praying to the goddess. Fuck him. She was an acolyte. What was he thinking, lusting after her? The guilt drove into him like a freight train.

  “Once you’re finished, we’ll begin stage one,” she said.

  “What’s stage one?”

  Selene’s violet stare cut straight to his soul. “I take you apart, so I can put you back together.”

  Chapter 9

  Selene hadn’t meant her words to sound threatening, but from the way Jason’s face paled and his fork hit his plate, they fell sharp and heavy on her target. What was she doing, saying it like that? Only, he’d shaken her to the core. That chiseled face, the charming smile, the way his gaze raked over her… His words and actions promised delights she’d only dreamed about. She’d caught herself leaning into him, practically begging for his lips. She’d smelled his desire for her, musk and spice, a heavenly scent that made her insides want to liquefy. Thank the goddess she’d caught herself before things went too far.

  “Take me apart?” Jason said. “What will that entail?”

  The scent of desire was gone, replaced by the sharp tang of fear. Good. She pushed her fruit around her plate. “Attachments like yours don’t develop overnight. This started with your wolf, true, but most vices are harmless, mild. Yours has morphed into a twenty-four-hours-a-day, seven-days-a-week human addiction. For that to happen, there must have been a trigger. My job is to find that trigger, that cancer hiding in the dark recesses of your subconscious, and bring it into the light where we can address it directly.”

  With a shake of his head, Jason laughed. “No. Selene, it’s just a vice. It’s a vice I’ve indulged, sure. Why wouldn’t I? Because of Nickelova, I need to quit for a while, but I’m not addicted, not in the human sense.”

  “No? So, your need for sex exists only before the full moon, when your wolf is most active? Strange you weren’t able to turn down Nickelova so soon after the last shift when your wolf should have been buried deep within your subconscious.”

  He shifted, leaned back in his chair like a reticent toddler, and crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You don’t have to answer me. I know the truth. Silas filled me in on your… schedule and how it has increased over the years.” She sipped her coffee and waited for him to deny it. He didn’t. “So what we need to do is unravel exactly why this vice was able to get its hooks into you so deeply. The root of every vice is an unfulfilled emotional need.”

  “You’re going to psychoanalyze me? What, do I lie on the couch and tell you how I lost my virginity?”

  “I’m not a psychiatrist. I’m an acolyte for the priesthood. I don’t want to tap into your mind. I want to tap into your soul.”

  If he’d been pale before, his current chalky corpse color redefined the term. He cleared his throat. “No.”

  She sat back, rubbing her palms on her thighs. “You can’t put me off forever. I’ll call Silas if I have to.”

  Jason’s eyes tightened at the corners, seeming to size up the threat. “I’ll need to do some work before we start. I have a few pressing e-mails I have to review.”

  “Can’t it wait?”

  “No. I’m an angel investor. People are counting on me.”

  She looked at him blankly.

  “Our parents left us a large fortune when they died. My job is to use my portion of that inheritance to invest in businesses that need capital… after I vet them first.”

  “You just give them the money?”

  “In exchange for a percentage of future profits. So, you see, as much as I’d like to dive right into your therapy, I have an obligation to my clients that comes first.”

  “How long will it take you?”

  He stood and placed his plate in the sink. “A few hours. I’m sure you can, um, touch my soul later, right? Or tomorrow?”

  She shook her head. “Jason—”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  Selene sighed heavily as he retreated into his bedroom, the click of the door locking behind him signaling the end of their conversation.

  “Tap into my goddamned soul? Over my dead body.” If there was one good thing about Selene sharing her intended goals for the day, it was a temporary damper on his libido. He couldn’t think of anything he desired less than to have Little Miss Virtuous poking around in his emotional attic. Jason plopped down at his desk and flipped open his laptop. He wasn’t hiding anything per se, but it was the principle of the thing. Anyone with any sense of privacy would balk at the notion.

  He opened his e-mail and concentrated on reviewing the latest batch of financials from his scout, Andrew. He had a good feeling about this new company, Spackles.

 
Set up a meeting with Spackles’ executive team, he texted Andrew.

  The return text came back almost immediately. Perfect. I had a feeling you’d see the potential. How about Friday?

  Jason looked over his shoulder at the door.

  Actually, I’m having a medical procedure. Next week?

  Is everything okay? Anything I should know about?

  Routine.

  Thank god. We need you healthy. Baby needs a new pair of shoes.

  Jason laughed. Of course Andrew wanted to rush this one. His commission would set him up for the year.

  Next week.

  I’m on it, boss. Take care.

  Tossing his phone on the desk, he moved on to the next e-mail, another company, another scout, another set of financials. What Selene didn’t realize was, when it came to his business, there was always work to do. He could do this all day, all night if he had to. He supposed if he worked long enough, he’d prove to her he could break this vice on his own without the need for any religious mumbo jumbo.

  Only, as the day wore on, Jason’s vice had other things in mind. Although he stared at his computer screen, his wolf sent him a crystal-clear fantasy of hooking his fingers into the waistband of Selene’s jeans, sliding them over her hips, and burying his face between her thighs. Mangos and vanilla, that’s what she smelled like. He wondered if the scent would be stronger or more defined between her legs. Would her skin taste sweet? Was her flesh as soft as it looked?

  He got to his feet and paced the room. She said she was celibate, but she wouldn’t be here if she wasn’t curious. He could teach her to like it. Fuck. How could he be expected to maintain his distance with a woman who was in his apartment so willingly? He felt like a spider with a fly caught in his web, a fly he wasn’t supposed to touch. Yeah, right.

  He paced faster, a growl stirring in his chest. Silas should’ve known better than to send a woman. Of course, all werewolf priestesses were women, but that was just more of a reason why he should have been allowed to face his demons on his own.

  Demons.

  Jason dug through the drawer of his nightstand. His hand fell on a small box, a box with a snake on the lid. He hipped the drawer closed and crossed to his desk. As far as he knew, Grateful had destroyed the ring, but that didn’t mean Ryker wouldn’t have a replacement. Turning the box over in his hand, he referred to the sticker with the Lost Things logo and phone number stuck to the bottom and started to dial the number… and stopped.

  He could smell her. She’d walked past his room. His erection kicked and his body ached with need. A whimper broke his lips.

  Pocketing his phone, he glared at the door. It was too late for rings or potions. He needed sex, and he needed it now.

  Chapter 10

  Selene squared her shoulders and screwed up her courage. Even though Jason was a royal, she couldn’t allow him to push her aside. She was here for a reason, and she was going to follow through with her commitment to Silas and to Artemis. The problem was, every time she looked at Jason—those piercing green eyes and that perfectly designed face—she felt a wave of inappropriate attraction. She was fairly sure it was an echo, left over from the ritual she’d performed. When she’d taken Nickelova’s curse into her body, she’d had a taste of what it would be like to be with Jason, and she’d be lying to herself if she said it wasn’t the single most pleasurable feeling she’d ever encountered in her work.

  But she couldn’t think about that. He’d never get better locked in his room. In fact, he’d missed lunch and dinner. His growing physical hunger might exacerbate his symptoms. And there was more at stake here than just helping him gain control of his vice. Her future as pack priestess was on the line. It was time for the two of them to start down his road to recovery.

  “Jason?” She rapped on his door. “You need to come out now. Have something to eat. Begin your therapy.”

  Nothing.

  “I’m becoming concerned. It’s been over twelve hours since your last meal. I need to know you’re okay in there.” She knocked again.

  Nothing.

  “Jason, you’re scaring me. I’m coming in.” She tried the doorknob. Locked. Of course it was. The lever-style door handle was the type mainly designed for decoration. Not exactly tamper proof. She removed a bobby pin from her hair and stuck it in the tiny hole next to the lever. She heard a pop and the handle gave way. But she’d barely had enough time to pull her hand away when the door flew open. She staggered back, dodging the swinging wood by mere inches.

  From the belly of the dark room, Jason stalked toward her like a predator, chin tucked, shoulders hunched, tracking her every move. She barely recognized him. His presence had devolved to something purely animal.

  “Jason, your eyes. Your wolf is too close to the surface.”

  He inhaled deeply in response.

  She hurried backward, hands raised. A growl rumbled from deep within his chest as he pursued her, his longer legs closing the space between them in no time. She scampered for the door like a rabbit fleeing from a hunter, a creeping apprehension spreading through her body. Jason’s skin gave off a sweaty sheen and his pupils were dilated. Selene wondered if he was fully sentient. And the smell, oh goddess, the scent of his arousal was a complex spice in the air that made her heart race and not just from fear.

  Her backside bumped into the wall next to the door. “Jason, stop!”

  He pounced. His larger body slammed hers into the wall, his long tapered fingers wrapping around her throat until his thumb stroked her pulse. “Let me out,” he rasped into her ear. His voice was not his own, more feral than human. The sound made her scalp tingle.

  She couldn’t speak but she shook her head. No. She couldn’t let him leave.

  His knee pitched forward, wedging itself between her legs and thumping the wall behind her. In this position, his thigh grazed her crotch, his body heat covering her like the world’s sexiest blanket. His weight pressed against her chest as he brought his lips to her ear again. “Let me out, now.”

  She attempted to push him away but even with his diminished body weight, he was stronger than her. Her hands shoved ineffectively at his shoulders, the feel of his lean muscle against her palms awakening that thing within her she’d fought so hard to suppress. Why did he have to look the way he did? Against her wishes, her body responded, a rush of heat flooding her core.

  He inhaled deeply. Shit, he could smell her excitement. He let go of her throat and caught her wrists in one hand, pressing them against the wall above her head. Was it possible for him to get any closer without being inside of her? The thought made her insides quiver. His breath coiled against her lips.

  All at once, everything changed. She was no longer an acolyte of twenty-five in Jason’s apartment. She was fifteen, on a dirty mattress in the back of a truck stop, and a foul man was holding her wrists. The memory slammed into her, shaking her to her core. Any desire she’d felt quickly turned to fear, and her breath came in ragged pants.

  “Go!” she shouted. “I give you permission to leave.”

  Jason retracted immediately, grabbed his keys from the small table in the foyer, and left without another word. Selene pitched forward, catching her hands on her denim-clad knees. The walls wavered, the air hot and oppressive. No. It wasn’t the walls or the apartment. It was her. She was under attack from the inside. Panic. Anxiety.

  She closed her eyes and thought of her anchor, that one supremely happy memory with the power to bring her back from the brink of a full-blown meltdown. It had been a long time since she’d needed to use it. But with her ghosts circling, the trauma of her past creeping into the present, she needed to employ the coping skills she thought she’d perfected long ago.

  When she called on the memory, it was always the color blue she remembered first: a shade deeper than royal blue, but not quite navy. Edged in white, it was the color of a wall… no, a room. The blue room. Rivergate Manor. She was too dirty to be in that room but the man who had brought her there had told he
r to wait. He’d seemed nice.

  “Hello, dear.” Artemis’s gray spirals seemed to pick up a hint of the blue, further emphasizing the color of her eyes. Selene thought she looked like an angel. “My friend tells me he found you living under a bridge. Where is your family?”

  Selene shook her head.

  “My friend tells me he saw you shift last night.”

  Hugging herself, Selene’s eyes widened.

  “You didn’t think I’d know about the shift? Oh, yes. I’m a werewolf too. We all are wolves here.” Artemis sat down on an upholstered bench near the fireplace. “Are your parents wolves?” she asked softly.

  Selene shook her head.

  “Did they kick you out of the house?”

  How did she know? Selene looked down at her feet.

  “It happens more than you might think. Lycanthropy is genetic. On occasion, werewolves breed with humans and the gene is suppressed. It might rear its head two or three generations from the source. This can be terrifying to people unfamiliar with our kind.”

  “They’re gone now. They moved,” Selene said, remembering the day she’d come home from high school to find an empty house and no forwarding address. “I haven’t seen them in almost a year.”

  “That’s a long time to be living on the street. What are you… fifteen?”

  “Sixteen. I’ll be seventeen in January.”

  Artemis nodded. “How would you like this to be your new home? You can stay here with us and I’ll take care of you. We’ll become your pack.”

  Selene’s eyes darted around the opulent room, from the gilded chandelier to the fireplace with its stone mantle. “Why… would you do that?”

  Artemis smiled. “It’s what the goddess wants. She sent you to us, and it is our duty to accept her gift.”

  “The goddess?” Selene laughed, shaking her head.

  Artemis took her hand. “Come, my child. Let’s find you a room. There will be plenty of time to discuss all of this when you’re rested.”

  Selene emerged from the memory with a deep inhale, opening her eyes. She was a werewolf, an acolyte, a gift from the goddess. She was no victim.