His Darkest Hunger (10 page)

They must be either at a much higher elevation, or farther north than Winterhaven had been.

Her tummy grumbled loudly, the pangs of hunger fueling her desire to find food. The main living area was open, without walls, and she saw the kitchen to her left. A basket of fruit lay on the counter, and she grabbed an apple before opening the large and well-stocked refrigerator, her eyes alighting on the interior.

Well-stocked, yes, but with an eclectic assortment of foods. There were several plastic bags filled with a thick red substance that took up the entire top shelf. She didn’t even
want
to know what that was, and snorted at the idea of Ana being a vampire. Surely Declan had been playing some kind of mind game with her. There were no such things as vampires.

The shelf below was full of brown paper packages, presumably some sort of meat. There were a few cartons of milk, more fruit, and a large block of cheese.

Libby grabbed the cheese and quickly cut herself a large piece, happy to find a box of crackers in the cupboard to keep it company. She poured a glass of milk and silently made her way toward the front door.

She hesitated for a second, looking back over her shoulder before exhaling softly and pushing the large, heavy oak door open.

Stepping out onto a deep, wide porch, her face broke into a spontaneous smile at the sight of a comfy-looking swing to her right. It overlooked the water she’d spied from inside, and she quickly settled her butt into its cozy confines. She took a long swig of milk and attacked her cheese and crackers with gusto.

It had been a while since she could remember having any kind of appetite. It felt good. To eat, breathe the air, and enjoy nature.

She finished her cheese and was half done with the box of crackers when a thought occurred to her that stopped her cold. She had made it through the previous evening, as chaotic as it had been, without one nightmare.

No faceless monsters had terrified her last night. She munched on a corner of a salted cracker, welcoming the ray of hope that sprang up inside her.

Maybe there was a chance for her after all.

If she could stay alive, that is.

It didn’t take long before her stomach protested at the amount of food she’d shoved down her throat. Feeling like a small pig, she set the box of crackers aside, then gulped down the last bit of milk in her cup.

Settling back into the swing, she closed her eyes. A feeling of contentment slipped through her veins, and she grabbed hold of it fiercely. The sun was warm on her face, her belly was full, and for once she let all the dark thoughts drift away.

Slowly, Libby became aware of the abundance of nature that inhabited this little corner of the world. Trees stood guard over a vast number of birds, and she caught glimpses of a couple of morning doves, as well as several robins. Their fat bellies flashed red as they zipped through the trees, wildly screeching to all the arrival of spring.

The antics of a little brown squirrel brought a smile to her face, its body darting madly about in search of something just out of reach. Kind of like her, she thought.

She stood then, answering the restless call of the little animal. Looking back toward the door, she slipped down the steps and began to make her way into the silent realm of the forest. It was quite a bit colder there, and she wrapped her arms around her body, trying to hold in some of the warmth that the light cotton shirt afforded her.

Sapphire blue water glistened to the right, and
she headed toward it, as if following a path she’d trodden before. Strange, that thought.

The hair on the back of her neck quaked, and Libby stopped abruptly. She remained still, feeling the soft breeze that caressed her cheeks and blew her loose blond hair about her face. Her heart began to beat faster as a feeling of unease rifled through her veins in a fierce rush.

She knew this feeling well.

Someone was watching her.

She let out a slow breath as her eyes frantically scoped out the terrain in the immediate area. She was surrounded by trees that continued down to the water. It appeared they couldn’t be climbed, and certainly not by someone with damaged ribs and no strength.

She put one foot in front of the other, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible, which was hard; her entire body was yelling at her to run from the danger.

And there was definitely something there. She could feel it with every fiber of her being. Someone was stalking her with deadly precision.

A flash to her right was enough to kick-start her legs, and she took off toward the water, eyes searching in vain for a weapon or means of escape. The stitch in her side became sharper, but she kept on, and less than a minute later stumbled to the edge of the small, pristine lake.

A large piece of driftwood stuck out of the mucky earth close to water, and she grabbed it, yanking to get it out. Slivers punctured the skin of her fingers, but she didn’t care. A sound behind her sent shivers up her spine and she renewed her effort, feeling des
peration begin to tear at her insides as fear plopped itself deep into her belly.

Something burst inside of Libby then. She felt the crack, as if a well of emotion that had been bottled deep inside her had been shaken and exploded into a storm.

She was pissed off.

Actually, she was more than pissed off. She was fucking furious.

Enough!

She wasn’t going to cower any longer.

With a mighty heave, she yelled loudly as she freed the large piece of wood, but the momentum knocked her off her feet and she landed on her back.

Hard.

Her head smacked the soft ground behind her, and the breath was knocked from her body.

Libby lay there, chest heaving, willing her body to get up and fight.

But then things changed in a way she’d never expected.

Feet came into view. Not feet exactly, but large paws.

Slowly, she lifted her head and pushed her body up until she was kneeling in the muck, brandishing a piece of driftwood and inches away from the most magnificent animal she’d ever seen.

Time stilled for a few seconds. She was aware of her lungs deeply inhaling air as her heart furiously pumped blood through her body, screaming at her to defend herself.

Warm air blew from the creature’s nose and caressed her face. Libby shivered at the sensation as she stared, mesmerized, at the dark intelligent eyes
that peered at her from the exotic face of the powerful black cat.

She gulped thickly as a low keening growl vibrated deep from its chest.

The animal moved away and began to pace back and forth, its movements agitated but not aggressive. She found herself relaxing, and when the animal stopped so close that she could touch it, her hands moved toward it on their own accord.

Trembling fingers hesitated, then softly skimmed over the thick fur that surrounded its head. The pelt was deep black, but as the sun caressed it, outlines of its rosettes were plainly visible. In fact they shimmered under her touch.

The cat was beautiful, and as she studied the animal, her fear left her completely. She had no clue what it was. A panther, maybe? Weren’t they black?

“What are you?” she whispered, and fought the urge to wrap her arms around the beast. That would be crazy, wouldn’t it?

The magical moment was broken as the animal jumped back, barking roughly from its chest. It resumed pacing once more, and Libby started to feel nervous. Then waves of anxiety pummeled her and she looked to the wimpy piece of driftwood she’d managed to dislodge.

There was no way in hell
that
was going to save her if kitty cat decided she looked like a tasty treat.

The animal howled, and fear crept up her spine again. Her mouth went dry and she shivered as fog began to encircle the cat. Long tendrils crept up and over the powerful muscles of its hind legs, until the entire body was shrouded in mist.

Libby fell back as the animal began to move and
shift, fear clogging her mouth, blocking her scream. Her eyes widened in horror as the dark shape mutated. Grunts and popping noises reverberated through the small clearing. She began to back away, trying to ignore the terror that clawed at her insides.

As long as the animal wasn’t hungry, she should be all right. Now was not the time to panic. She needed to keep a cool head.

But that was going to be freaking hard.

Her mouth fell open and she shook her head in denial as a man walked toward her from the mist; slowly, with predatory grace.

A powerfully tall and naked
man.

Intricate tattoos glistened in the sun as a fine sheen of mist clung to his skin. They shimmered as he walked toward her.

It was Jaxon, and his eyes were alive with a fever that hit her hard in the gut.

As Libby’s eyes slowly wandered over the magnificent specimen, they widened even more. His straining erection pointed toward her like a weapon, and she licked her lips.

Jaxon was hungry all right. And it wasn’t for food.

I
f anyone had told Libby such a ridiculous story, she would have said they were full of shit. An animal changing into a man was unbelievable. It had to be an illusion, an elaborate hoax meant to intimidate and frighten.

Declan’s words rumbled through her brain, their import penetrating her disbelief.

Vampire, shifter, and practitioner of magick.

That’s what he had said to her the day before. At the time, she’d dismissed them as outrageous, intended to scare the crap out of her. And they’d worked. She shuddered at the image of Ana and her ferocious fangs. But now? Now she didn’t know what to think.

Was this some elaborate trick? Or was it all true?

Libby’s eyes flew to Jaxon’s, and sharp jolts of awareness plummeted through her body. They sent
shock waves of energy sliding outward, until her entire frame literally hummed.

Her heart sped up, pounding a pagan beat as adrenaline poured through her veins. His lips parted as he watched her. His eyes darkened even more, and he growled lightly as he stopped only a few inches from her.

His hands were clenched at his sides, and she tried to avert her gaze but was drawn once more to the large male appendage that bobbed as his chest heaved. He was so incredibly beautiful, as if carved from stone: tall, muscular, and loaded to the brim with testosterone.

His face was dark, unreadable, but something fierce smoldered deep within his eyes that called to her soul. It told her things, secrets that he’d left hidden. And then there was the part of his body that stood at attention, screaming at her to listen.

He wanted her.

And God help her, she felt more alive right now, in this moment, than she could ever recall being. She wanted nothing more than to bask in the feeling and never let go.

Without thought, purely on instinct, her fingers crept forward, hesitating only a second before making contact with the firm flesh of his chest. Heat licked at her, scorching a path up her forearms, and she gasped at the intensity, as flames of need erupted deep inside her. Her hands flattened and the palms lingered there, slowly tracing the colorful tattoos that caressed his chest and rose up toward his left shoulder.

Their design was bold. A series of symbols that looked to be ancient Aztec markings. She shook her
head sharply at that thought. Aztec markings? Yes. She
knew
this, and that excited her. Her eyes flew to his dark ones again, and they claimed her hotly. All her thoughts of tattoos and Aztec markings fled.

Her body shifted as hot liquid slithered through her veins. She felt light-headed and swayed weakly until her body was crushed to him in a hard embrace.

Jaxon pulled Libby into him, his body aflame. The animal roared inside, impatient for what belonged to him, and he gritted his teeth in an effort to tame the beast. But it was so difficult to ignore the animal when his body was hot, heavy with need, and he closed his eyes as he took her scent deep into his lungs.

It was sweet and incredibly feminine. The familiar muskiness that was unique to her, blended magically with vanilla, pulled at him.

Hard.

He groaned loudly as his cock filled, and he was painfully aware of the softness it was pressed up against. It had been so long. So incredibly long since his body had felt like this.

There had been other women. Needs had to be met, but none had touched him as deeply and as profoundly as Libby.

No one had been able to match the passion he had shared with her. He groaned once more, running his lips over the hair that lay at her neck. Yeah, it had been too long.

Three years to be exact, and Jaxon found his emotions warring with each other as he fought the urge to punish and dominate. He couldn’t hurt her. Not
now. Not when he needed answers to the questions that had been rolling around his head.

His hands began to wander over her body, enjoying the feel of softness in such direct contrast to the hardness of his own. She’d lost weight, yes, but she was still wholly female.

His female.

His mouth sought hers, with a ferocity that only fueled the fire more. His only thought was to claim her body as his.

He groaned deeply into her mouth and nudged the soft lips open, allowing his tongue to venture into the heated warmth that lived there. She tasted exactly like he remembered, and the flames that licked at him erupted into an inferno as she surrendered to him, a soft whimper escaping as she melted into his hardness.

His left hand moved up, under her shirt, and he felt the shiver as he traced the curve of her spine, carefully caressing the damaged skin. He then moved with purpose around her rib cage, until he was able to cup the heavy underside of her breasts.

She arched against him, her hands slowly sliding up behind his neck, and kissed him back, her tongue dancing with his in a feverish tango that left them both breathless. His free hand held her head tightly as he continued to ravage her soft lips.

After what seemed like forever, Jaxon broke away and, chest heaving, his eyes captured her violet ones. He wanted her to see exactly what it was that he was going to do to her. He watched as the deep recesses of her eyes darkened, her swollen lips parted as her breathing quickened.

His hand reached out slowly, his fingers travel
ing over her delicate features, following the gentle curve of cheek, past the generous mouth and petite chin. Her neck was long and graceful, the pulse at the base beating fast and hard against his touch. It felt intoxicating.

His eyes fell to the heaving chest that was covered by only a thin layer of cotton. He could see the outline of his other hand as it cupped her left breast, his thumb aching to stroke the turgid nipple that stood in relief against the soft material.

She whimpered, grinding her hips against his hardness as he lowered his mouth. He blew hot air over the puckered bit of flesh, and without warning latched onto it, his mouth hot, wet, and demanding. Even through thin fabric she tasted like heaven.

He felt her breast swell against him, and strengthened his hold on her as her knees buckled. She would have fallen otherwise. It was too much for him, and he gently lowered her to the ground, laying her out as if she were a banquet he was about to feast from.

And feast he would.

His eyes caught hers, and he held them captive as he growled, “It’s been so long, Libby. God help me, but I can’t deny myself any longer.”

He was burning with desire, his lips hot with need. He ripped the shirt in two in an effort to get to the flesh that called to him. He ignored the heavy ache between his legs and focused on the heaving globes mere inches from his lips.

He smiled wickedly as he lowered his head. His mouth was watering in anticipation, and as he slowly flicked his tongue across the dusky pink of her nipples, her hands found their way into the thickness of the hair on his head and she pulled him into her.

“Oh my God, that feels so good,” she gasped.

He smiled against the soft flesh and then opened wide, bringing his heated tongue to swirl around the buds that begged to be kissed. Slowly, he teased and caressed, and when her whimpers became hoarse and the pressure from her hands was hard, he took one of the tips deep into his mouth and suckled hard.

She tasted like candy, and he felt her stiffen as he savored the sweetness and gently caressed her other breast. They had always been beautiful, perfect and feminine, but today they were like gifts from the gods, and he suckled hungrily.

Her hands began to make their way down past his shoulders, and Jaxon shuddered at her tentative caresses. They felt unsure, virginal, and that nearly drove him to the brink.

His skin was burning up and he felt the beast scratching at him. Begging him to take what was his. Mark her with his brand.

He tore his mouth from her breasts, trailing a path of fire down, his hands grabbing the waistband of her jeans. He would have ripped them, but her hips were so slim they slid down with no effort at all.

The scent of her arousal was heavy in the air, and Jaxon felt close to losing control. He leaned back onto his haunches, breathing in deeply, trying to maintain a bit of calm, his eyes taking in every inch of her beautiful body.

Her long hair was wild about her face, half covering her eyes as they trailed in long tendrils over her panting mouth and down toward her heaving breasts. His eyes wandered past the ribs, which were too noticeable for his liking, to the flat belly and the
neat patch of blond that harbored her greatest treasure. His heart ached at the beauty before him, and it took a few moments until he realized there was a flaw to her, one that hadn’t been there before.

The long, thin white scar seemed to mock him as it sat low on her abdomen. The anger that rushed through him upon seeing it was instant and cold. It felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. The scar represented a whole host of things he wasn’t ready to deal with. And as his desire fled, the questions that had been burning in his mind since the night before could no longer be denied. Had she had a baby? And if so, who the hell was the father? Had she loved another the way she’d loved him?

Images and memories clouded his mind, and his hot flesh cooled as a rush of emptiness threatened to overwhelm him. It sat heavy and unwanted deep in his chest. He felt betrayed, and as his eyes skimmed the scar, he couldn’t help but wonder if she’d screwed the bastards who had ultimately screwed
him
over.

He pushed away violently, and was ten yards away before he could speak. He’d been so close to losing himself in her.
Again.
Something he had promised he would never do.

“You need to go back to the cabin.”

Libby sat up, trying to hide her nakedness, and when she spoke, she sounded confused. “Jaxon, I don’t understand.”

Her voice broke on a sob, and he fought the savage need to take her. To punish her. To pound his body into hers and hope for some sense of relief from the darkness that had stalked him for the last three years.

“Jaxon, help me understand all of this.
Please, I need to know
.”

“Libby, what you need to do is get away from me.” His voice, thick with anger and need, was almost incoherent.

“I just—”

Jaxon exploded into action and was at her side in a second. He leaned down, enjoying the fear that clouded her eyes as she stared back at him. Her body trembled and she shrank from him.

“If you don’t get out of my sight I will do one of two things to you. I will either fuck you until you can’t see anymore, or I will wrap my hands around that lovely, long neck of yours and wring the very last breath you’ll ever breathe from your body.”

Then Jaxon pulled back from her again, his body flushed with fury as he spat, “My problem is that I don’t know which one I want to do more.”

The hurt that flashed across her face slammed into him, but he angrily pushed it aside. What the hell did it matter if she was upset? He could give a rat’s ass.

He watched her through hooded eyes as she rolled over and pulled her jeans back up over her hips. Her movements were stiff, but she held her head high as she clasped the two ends of her shredded shirt together, trying to cover her exposed breasts.

Without much success.

She gained her footing and faced him with a bravado he knew she didn’t feel. He had to give her credit. She was finally regaining some of the spunk that had attracted him to her in the first place.

“I’m leaving now.”

Her voice was small, and the anguish she felt was
laced throughout her words. “I don’t know what I did to you and the others…” She paused again, struggling to maintain her composure. “I can’t say I’m sorry for something I don’t remember, but if I hurt you in the past, there must have been a reason.”

He turned on his heel and walked toward the forest, flinching at the hoarsely whispered words that followed.

“There
has
to be a reason.”

He stalked through the trees, ignoring the shrieks and alarm that rent the air as two blue jays and a host of sparrows heralded his approach. For an animal known for its ability to hunt and stalk its prey with silence and stealth, he was doing a poor job melting into the local habitat, but he didn’t give a shit.

His body trembled with anger. He was furious, and as he glanced down at himself, the lines around his mouth whitened even more. He snarled savagely; his dick was still hard as hell. It ached painfully, begging for release and the warm softness it had been denied.

Onward he marched, each large step taking him farther into the wilderness that surrounded his brother’s cabin. It was quiet here, peaceful. A place that in the past had been able to soothe his spirit and free his mind of all the crap his world was constantly throwing at him.

But no more.

Would he ever be free from her betrayal?
Would he ever be free from the want and need that ate at him?
That was the question that confused him most and, if he were truthful, scared the crap out of him.

He was a jaguar. He lived for the hunt and loved the work he did at PATU. He’d decided long ago that
he would not take a mate. Most jaguar shifters didn’t settle on one woman.

Bitterly, Jaxon thought of his father. He certainly hadn’t.

But he was a true jaguar warrior, which set him aside from the common shifters, like his older brother and his father.

Jaguar warriors mated for life. It was part of their genetic code.

It was the reason his mother, who was a rare female warrior, had stayed with his father even though he’d betrayed their bond over and over again.

The now elderly Castille had married his mother and fathered three sons. He’d spent the bulk of his younger years expanding an empire that even by today’s standards was considered impressive. Blue Heaven Industries was a multifaceted company that dabbled in both military and communications, and it was a major bone of contention that he was not at his father’s side along with his brother Julian.

But then again, Julian hadn’t been born with the warrior tattoos that both he and his younger brother had. Tattoos that at times seemed almost a curse. To be a jaguar shifter was one thing, but to be born a warrior was something else entirely.