Losing Myself in You (6 page)

He didn't have a choice. The Elders ha
d spoken and he couldn't exactly argue with them despite the fact that he didn't want to marry the woman he had accidentally on-purpose bonded with. Well, he had to admit, at least with the bond, he could feel her within him, as though she was right next to him. The bond would undoubtedly lead him to her, and there he would demand that she return to his mansion with him. She would most likely refuse him, and if it came down to it, he would hoist her over his shoulder kicking and screaming. Heh. He might enjoy that, causing her some sort of distress. Although… if he was being honest, he had already caused her enough of that. Of course, he had never intended to… but she was… Oh, what was the word?

Intoxicating.

Yes, she may infuriate him to no end, but she was also intoxicating.

It had to be after midnight, or at least that was what Marcus had assumed from the moon's positioning in the night sky. If anything, she was probably asleep, probably at her apartment.

She had better be at her apartment
, he thought, gritting his teeth at the mere notion that Bridgette might be with someone else, another man. He curled his fingers into fists as though he were preparing for some upcoming battle. He would probably take on the entire world for her, which was odd because he barely even knew her. But it didn't seem to matter.  It was such an odd feeling of confliction that just thinking about it gave him a headache.  Every time he thought of dismissing her, he physically recoiled from the thought.  It was like his head and body were warring with each other, and he was afraid his body would eventually win.

His feet were already leading him out the door and into the wilderness.  He knew he was going after her.  He knew he had to see her, to smell her, to touch her…

The bond they now shared tugged at him, pulling him to her.  The moon hung low in the sky, giving him adequate light though he was able to see clearly in the dark.  It led him to the door of her apartment, where her scent was overwhelming to the point where he was drowning in it.  He swallowed, feeling his senses heighten at the close proximity between the two.

Marcus had walked from his home to hers. It had taken nearly two hours, but the night was cool, and he found that small activi
ty such as walking helped clear his head and made it easier for him to focus. It required no effort to break into her apartment.  The luxury community she lived in wasn’t on a busy street, and everyone was sleeping by now.  All he had to do was climb the outdoor staircase that led directly to her door.  There was a thick tree right outside her window – a rarity in the city, but it seemed to add to the serenity surrounding the place.  Luckily, he didn’t need to climb it.

Though there was an alarm
that would go off in ten seconds adjacent to her front door, he quickly disabled it. He might not actually have participated in the embezzling they were trying to get him for, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a questionable set of skills.  They tended to come in handy, whether it was being a spy in the war or breaking into a near-stranger’s apartment. He twisted the door knob and pushed the door open, slightly hoping there wasn't some barking dog or curious feline prowling around.

His eyes easily saw everything despite the pitch darkness, and even though numerous shadows cascaded across the living room of her apartment, he could still make his way through the room.
He didn’t, exactly, tiptoe, but every muscle he possessed was tense.  Wolves weren’t known for being the most graceful or the quietest, after all.  Her scent only got stronger causing a soundless growl to penetrate the bowels of his throat. He couldn't control himself, not when he was so close to her.

Intoxicating.

The bond led him to the last door down the hallway, but he refrained from entering just yet.  What was he doing, breaking into her apartment just to steal her away?  He didn’t even like her.  But just the mere thought of another man –

Another growl lodged itself in his mouth and he gripped his thick hair, forcing himself to be quiet.

He blinked and forced his eyes around the room, taking in her current living environment. He needed something else to concentrate on. It was rather spacious, considering she lived by herself, but she probably got paid quite well and added to the fact that she lived in a pretty safe neighborhood. In fact, everything looked ordinary. Ordinary and clean.  The room itself was oddly bare; there were no pictures hanging around, on the coffee table or on a wall. Her television was widescreen; her couch matched the color scheme

Huh.

Well, he expected something… different. Maybe something as brash as she was.  Like dishes in the sink or scattered magazines or some kind of chaos.  Because she certainly caused him chaos in the brief time he knew her. But this… Well, he didn't know her, exactly. It was very possible he was the only thing who managed to get on her grouchy side.

For whatever reason, this seemed to amuse him as his lips curled into a grin
, and he glanced at her kitchen. Everything was in place, looked nice. Not a dish in the sink. He wanted to search through her refrigerator to see what kind of food she liked to eat, but her pull on him was becoming too hard to fight.  His thoughts were tugged back to her bedroom door. He wanted to see her face, touch her skin, and interact with her. Even if she pissed him off, she made him feel something nobody else ever had.

She made him feel alive.
 

Not just for a night, or a little while.  But every time he thought of her, the hair on his body stood erect, brimming with electricity, and he craved her presence in order to set that electricity off.  He needed her reaction to him.  No woman had ever made him feel as tantalized and as on-edge as Bridgette did.

He looked back at her doorway, noticing that it was closed. Interesting, he thought. There was no reason for her to close the door; no roommates, no pets. Her whole house guaranteed her privacy. So what was she hiding from?

You
, a voice said, and without his accord, his lips curled on his left side.

He idly wondered for a m
oment if she was up reading. She looked like a reader.  Bookish, but not quiet.

But when he opened the door to her bedroom, he found it completely black, much like the rest of the house. He could make out the silhouette of her form, but he arched a brow when he realized she was sleeping on her back. Usually, humans didn't really sleep on thei
r backs.

He
sauntered closer to her, not in the least bit worried if she woke up. His hazel eyes scrutinizing the scenery before him. It was then he realized just why she was on her back. It appeared as though she was having some sort of dream. Her eyelids were closed gently and her chin was tilted upwards. Due to the heat, it was no wonder that she was in a loose t-shirt and a pair of underwear, her body left free from concealment by the covers. Marcus's eyes took in her physique sharply, hoping to figure out just what she was dreaming about.

It didn't take him long to realize it, and his eyes opened in fascination. At first, he had assumed it was some kind of nightmare, because her brows were pushed together and her breathing was fast. Occasionally, she would bite down on her bottom lip, as though she was trying to conceal a groan of some sort, but he still heard her. Her arms were by her sides and her fingers were buried deep in the covers that surrounded her. She had them tightly balled into her hands, her knuckles white.

He could smell it on her.

She was ha
ving sex. In her sleep.

He watched her, transfixed by everything: the way her body moved, the sounds she would make, the way she looked. He wanted nothing more than to finish her off right there, wanted to feel her nails dig into his skin… He might have even been jealous, but he was almost certain she was dreaming about him. That and the fact he was mesmerized by everything about her.

It would have been easier if he had taken her while she was asleep. Marcus knew that; there would be no struggle and since she seemed so consumed by her dream, it was highly unlikely that she would awaken. But… he had to wait. He had to watch her finish, no matter what it meant. Of course he had seen her in his dreams, but that wasn't the same…

And just like that, her hips bucked up, and if it was possible, her fingers gripped the covers even tighter. Her head tilted back as she twitched, fully experiencing the sensation of her climax even though she was sleeping deeply. She even moaned slightly, and Marcus had to restrain himself from climbing on the bed and causing her to feel such pleasure while she was awake. Sex could wait. First, he needed to get her back to the house.

At that moment, however, Bridgette's eyes snapped open in Marcus's
direction, as though she could sense his presence, as though she knew he was watching her. She didn’t appear frightened of him, for whatever reason. Instead, she merely stared at him, trying to wait to speak until the pleasure had subsided.

She had dreamt of him
. Again.

And he had watched her body react to such a dream.

"What are you doing here?" she asked him, her voice laced with husk.  She sat up, which was quite an effort for her tired body.

Again, Marcus had to restrain himself from forgetting about his mission
and jumping on top of her in order to inflict the same pleasure on her in reality. Even the sound of her voice did things to his body he wasn't completely aware of but wanted nothing more than to figure out.

"I'm here to take you home," he told her, and though his voice was rough, he wasn't angry, upset, or frustrated.

"I am home," she told him firmly, though she, too, had yet to be upset over anything.

"
Our
home," he said again, in a tone that told her there was no argument. "With me. With my pack."

Bridgette narrowed her eyes
, now fully awake. "That will
never
be my home," she told him through clenched teeth.

Though Marcus didn't want to admit it, her words cut through him more than he expected, and something primal growled within. "I am making it your choice, but if need
be, I will throw you over my shoulder and take you home with me."

"Well, I'm not going," she said, her tone the same as his. "You'll have to force me and I guarantee I will struggle."

Marcus cocked his lips up into an amused smirk that did not meet his eyes and shrugged his broad shoulders. "That'll make it more fun," he told her, and without warning, he reached out and grabbed Bridgette. Just like he promised, he tossed her over his shoulder with relative ease and proceeded to head out of her room.  He made sure one of his hands was pressed tightly over her mouth in order to prevent her screams from being heard.  Once he reached the safety of the wilderness, she could scream and shout as much as he wanted.  He knew no one would bother him.  His face was known throughout the city as the Alpha male of the Sterling pack, and no one would dare do anything to risk bodily harm to themselves.  It also helped that his pack invested in a lot of the city’s businesses.  He had more friends than enemies here.

But that didn’t deter Bridgette.  J
ust like she promised, she struggled – kicking and punching, wiggling and shaking - every inch of the way.

He probably should have taken a car.

It was only after Marcus made it out of her apartment complex did he realize he didn't want to carry her back to the mansion.  It took him two hours, and even as a werewolf – an Alpha – it required some effort. With her struggling, it would no doubt take longer. Though she had a fair amount of curves on her petite frame, she was relatively easy to carry, and he had no problem crossing the street, despite her fists pounding on one side of his back and her feet kicking at his chest.

She was strong, he realized, even though her blows barely registered. Stronger than he had originally gave her credit for.

She would make a good wife
.

The thought traveled into his mind without Marcus's permission, and he immediate
ly banished it. Yes, Marcus could admit that strength was a very admirable quality, especially when it came to finding his potential mate. But that did not mean he was going to marry her, or even wanted to.

He glanced back and forth between the empty streets, trying to figure out what he should do at that moment, while simultaneously trying to ignore Bridgette's struggles. A couple of cars littered the street. He supposed he could just steal one of thos
e, and have a member of his pack return it sometime tomorrow. In fact, that was probably his best bet. Now Marcus turned, his eyes crisp, trying to figure out just which vehicle to take…

The pounding Bridgette was attempting to inflict on him caused his thoughts to lapse temporarily. An annoyed frown touched his lips and he looked at her form sprawled out over his shoulder, continuing trying to physicall
y dissuade him in hopes he might react favorably towards her. Ha. That was a laugh. Idly, he wondered just how tired she was. Being asleep and having such an erotic dream probably would have worn out anybody else, even a few males he knew. However, she still persisted, consistently hitting him and kicking him. He had to give it to her. She was quite stubborn.

"You might as well just stop," he told her flatly, and due to the natural tone of his voice, it came out rougher than he intended.

"I'm wearing you out, hmm?" Bridgette asked in a strained voice, as though she was focusing all of her energies on this one particular task. "I knew I would, sooner or later."

Marcus rolled his eyes. "Hardly," he told her. He returned his eyes to the road, resuming his search. "I just thought I should tell you so
you
don't wear
yourself
out because there's no way in hell I'm carrying you into the house if you fall asleep on the ride to the mansion."

"Maybe you should recall the fact that I don't want to go to your home or whatever it is," Bridgette said, temporarily stopping her ministrations so she could yell at him. "But no. You wolves are all the same. You come here and then toss me over your shoulder like you're some caveman and I'm your property or some shit like that, and don't even bother to ask what I want."

"I don't particularly care what you want," Marcus growled, shifting her weight on his shoulder so it was more comfortable.

"Why am I not surprised?" Bridgette said; her voice softer than earlier.

Marcus' sharp hearing picked up a subtle tone of sadness laced in her voice, but he chose to ignore it. Guilt started to prickle at his insides, and he forced it away. He had a mission to carry out, and couldn't be distracted because the woman wasn't satisfied with the way things turned out. It wasn’t like he was jumping up and down with joy at the situation either.

"
Did you think of how you’re even going to take me back to your place?" Bridgette asked, trying to get comfortable. She didn't like when her body was in limbo and too much blood was rushing into certain places while leaving other places all tingly and empty. "It doesn't appear to me that you have a car, Comrade. What now?"

Though she had meant to be insulting, M
arcus perked his ears, suddenly inspired by the woman. "I don't," he told her, and then tilted his head slightly so they locked eyes. "But
you
do."

---

Bridgette was not pleased. Currently, she was imprisoned in her own car. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her lips were pursed into a pout. She didn't care that she was sulking, but to her, life just wasn't being fair right now. After he had all but tossed her off his shoulder, Marcus had practically threatened her to loan him her car and after she refused the first few times, he lunged at her and looked as though he was about to finish the job and completely transform her into a werewolf. She grudgingly agreed – if agreed meant being forced to do what Marcus said despite her wishes – but refused to tell him where the keys were in her apartment.  It didn’t take him long to find them, however, and she led him to a nearby parking garage where her Ford Mustang was.   He also made her promise not to escape – like she would really keep a promise to the wolf who was kidnapping her. So it was really no wonder why she was sulking. But her mind was working in overtime in order to try and formulate some kind of plan.

S
he was getting tired. Really tired. Exhausted. And long car rides had always increased the probability that she would fall asleep…

---

As Marcus had suspected, Bridgette fell asleep in a matter of minutes. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, and immediately noticed the prickles of goose bumps that scattered across her bare legs. It was hard to remember that she was only in a t-shirt and underwear while she had been yelling at him. In a quick instant, his worn leather jacket was off of his broad frame and wrapped around her petite body in hopes that it might warm her up. He didn't care, but…

"Let's not analyze things, shall we?" he asked himself,
bumping his fingers on the steering wheel, and instead, focused on just how everyone would take her as his potential wife.  His hazel eyes stared back out the window, his thoughts trailing off. It shouldn't have mattered because, in all likelihood, the match wouldn't be approved, but…

It did. It really, really did.

The drive took at least an hour and Bridgette remained asleep the whole time. Occasionally Marcus would look over at her to see if she was having any interesting dreams, but from what he could see, that time had already passed.

Oh well.
  He almost wished he had experienced this dream.  If it was anything like the last one… It wasn't likely he would ever forget that night. Just the thought of it –

Probably shouldn't think about it
, a voice chided.

The voice was probably right.

He glanced out the window, watching as the city merged with forestry, and soon, only small cottages and bed and breakfasts were sparsely seen in patches of the trees.  The serenity he always seemed to feel once he was back home calmed his nerves, eased the tension in his shoulders…

His stomach still tumbled at the thought of his pack meeting Bridgette.  She wasn’t exactly likable.  She probably would be… But he wanted her to…  He shook his head, concealing a growl.  He couldn’t think about the decision.  Not yet.

They arrived at the manor just after three o'clock that morning. The night was still pitch black and the thick crescent moon hung low in the sky. One couldn't actually see what surrounded the home, but silhouettes of pine trees could be made out.

When the car stopped, Bridgette jerked awake and her body tensed,
as though she was preparing herself for any sort of attack that was or might take place. Marcus gave her a look, arching his brow as though whatever she thought was going to happen was definitely not going to happen.

"Am I going to have to carry you?" he asked her, though he had some sort of idea of the answer.

"Like I'd choose to get out of this car and go with you in your house," she snapped, her arms still folded over her chest.

Marcus sighed and then got out of the car, only to walk around, open her door and, after unbuckling her seatbelt, carried her in his arms, bridal-style. It was harder for her to struggle this way.

However, her new position did not deter her from speaking her mind.

"Fuck
! Why can't you just take no for an answer?” Bridgette asked, clearly trying to offend him.  She refused to look at the manor, the same manor where she first set eyes on Marcus, where he bit her, where two fellow agents lost their lives. "No. I don't want to be with you or your pack or whatever…" She continued to speak, even when Marcus entered the door, even when they passed a group of people who started to murmur to themselves upon seeing her, even when he began to head up the stairs.

Down below, in the dining room,
Thane and Razi sat next to each other and exchanged looks. Brandon and Ryan were also seated next to the Elders, having just come back from their surveillance shift. Julianne made a quick appearance from the kitchen, probably to see who was making so much goddamn noise at this hour.

"She d
oesn't appear pleased to be here," Thane murmured to his mate, indicating the woman in Marcus's arms.

"No, she d
oes not," Razi said, unsurprised. Both pairs of eyes were fixed on the couple, as Marcus carried Bridgette up the stairs.  They had been waiting for Marcus’ return, after a tense end to dinner.  They didn’t expect him to bring her home with him, however, especially not like this. "Why would he choose a mate who clearly doesn't want to be part of this pack?"

"Ah, well," Thane said, patting the woman's knee affectionately. "We can never really choose who we fall in love with, can we?"

"Maybe not entirely," Razi agreed. "But for the pack's sake, you and I need to make a decision based not only Marcus's desires, but on what will benefit our members. And as of right now, I don't see her as being what we need her to be, nor do I see her as someone we can look to in times of need."

"Well," Thane said, still optimistic. "We'll see."

Unbeknownst to the Elders, Julianne slipped back into the kitchen, a smirk upon her pretty face.