Bound to Moonlight (2 page)

He told himself he was just doing a necessary job, but he couldn’t prevent his eyes from lingering on the smooth skin. Her breasts were small but perfectly formed with pale pink nipples. He had a sudden urge to run his palm across them, see if they would stiffen to his touch. His body tightened at the thought, and he frowned. He was no sex-starved monster. There were a number of unattached females in the pack, and as alpha, he had his pick and never looked outside for lovers. Yet here he was going hot and hard at the thought of touching an unconscious woman. She wasn’t even his type—too thin, too unfeminine. He tried to ignore his reaction while he looked at her for any clue.

A red mark marred the skin beneath her right breast. It looked as though something had pressed against her skin. He sat on the cot beside her and stroked one finger along the line. Her skin felt silky soft, but at his touch, she flinched, rolled onto her side, and curled into a ball. He leaned down picked up her bra and ran his hand along the lower seam. Something snagged against his fingers. Turning the bra over in his hands, he found a small pocket attached to the cotton, and tucked inside was a foil packet containing three pills. They could be suicide pills, but why would she need three? More likely, they were some sort of performance enhancing drugs. He pushed them into his pocket. He’d get the lab to analyze them. It might give a clue to who or what they were up against.

She lay facing the wall, and he stroked a hand over the smooth curve of her spine down to where the black cotton panties covered her bottom. His finger flirted with the edge then he gave in to the urge, hooked the finger in the band, and slid them down over the endless length of her legs. He held the scrap of cotton up in his hand, but they hid nothing, no labels, no little nametag conveniently sewn in to reveal her identity. He’d known there wouldn’t be. He could at least be honest with himself. He’d wanted to see her naked and now his eyes were drawn to the pale blond curls peeking out from between her thighs.

At the sight, the fire in his belly flared hotter, his balls ached, and inside him, his wolf stirred.

Sebastian stood up quickly, shoving the panties into his pocket. He’d never considered himself a pervert and lusting after unconscious women was definitely perverted in his books. He had to get out of there. He could do nothing more until she awoke, and for some reason, she presented far too much of a temptation.

A temptation he didn’t need and didn’t want. He couldn’t afford to see her as a woman, only as an enemy who had come here tonight to kill him. Furthermore, an enemy who very likely possessed the information he needed to find his missing pack members.

Long ago, he had sworn an oath to protect the pack, and he would get that information by whatever means possible. His squeamish feelings could not be allowed to get in the way. He had no illusions it would be easy. She was obviously well trained and tough, despite being a woman.

He turned to go, but at the last moment, he returned to the bed, tugged the blanket from under her, and covered her naked body.

Chapter Three

Anya shot bolt upright on the small bed.

Where was she?

Her head pounded. She reached up a trembling hand and ran it over her scalp. There was no blood, but a lump the size of an egg accounted for the pain. Then she remembered. She’d crashed into the stone wall. Just before…

She screwed her eyes up tight, but behind her closed lids, she still saw those blue eyes staring at her out of a wolf’s face. Could she have been hallucinating? She hadn’t been due a pill for hours yet, but maybe her health had deteriorated. Dr. Latham had said they had it under control, but maybe he didn’t want to scare her.

The room was almost dark, but even in the dim light, she could make out her surroundings. She was in a cage, and for a moment, she had to fight the panic that flared to life inside her.

She swallowed and looked around, searching for anything that might help her escape. The cage held the narrow cot she was lying on, a table, and a single upright chair. The floor was bare concrete, and a surveillance camera in one corner of the ceiling stared down at her. Were they watching her even now?

Silver bars enclosed all four sides, and the cage stood in the center of a square windowless room, with a single steel door opposite where she lay.

Her fingers tightened on the scratchy grey blanket clutched in one hand. Beneath it, she was naked. They must have stripped her, but they wouldn’t have found anything to lead back to the Agency.

She’d been active for five years now, but this was the first time she’d been taken. She forced her mind to go over the training, but she could feel the fear clawing at her insides at the thought of what they might do. Through the training sessions, she’d pretended to be so tough—she had never broken, but afterwards she’d always thrown up, and the memory still had the power to make her stomach heave.

Her handlers had told her this was a ruthless, well-organized group into everything from gunrunning to drug dealing. No way would they let her go. A wave of regret washed through her. She didn’t want to die before she’d had the chance to live.

Her clothes lay in a pile on the floor. She reached to pick them up, just as the outer door opened. Light flooded the room, her hand fell back to her side, and she blinked.

Sebastian Quinn stood framed in the doorway. She reached out with her mind but crashed into the same wall she had hit earlier. He was shielded; she couldn’t read him. Where would he have obtained the technology?

He strode into the room followed by a second man. She glanced at him but her eyes were drawn back to Sebastian.

Unlocking the cage door, he stepped inside then handed the key to the other man who locked it from the outside and left the room. The cell suddenly seemed much smaller. She knew he was six-foot-one, but in the confined space, he appeared larger. Of course, she’d seen his file, but nothing could have prepared her for him in the flesh. She’d trained with men, fought them, even killed them, but none had ever had this effect on her. It was odd that she should get her first hint of real desire from a man destined to kill her.

“Get up,” he ordered, his tone icy cold.

For a moment, she considered ignoring the command. Then she swung her legs around and stood, dragging the blanket with her. Her head felt as though it would split, and she swayed then stiffened her spine. She glanced across at her clothes then back at the man standing before her. “Can I get dressed?”

He seemed to consider the question, but finally lifted one shoulder in a careless gesture. “Go ahead.”

Relief flooded her. Nakedness was a tool many used in interrogations, women especially felt vulnerable. She’d been trained to cope, but she didn’t want to be naked in front of this man. Still, she suspected it would be pointless asking him to turn around, so she dropped her blanket and reached for her clothes.

Her panties were missing. She glanced at him. He pulled the scrap of black cotton from of his pocket and tossed them to her then sank onto the single seat and watched as she pulled on her clothes.

She picked up her bra. Her pills were gone, and her heart stalled. Did he have them? Anya pushed her panic aside. If they killed her, she would hardly need her medication.

One problem at a time.

She finished dressing, feeling much calmer once she was covered and sat down on the bed to pull on her boots.

“You don’t need the boots,” he said, and she dropped them but stayed seated on the bed.

For a minute, she stared down at the concrete floor and thought about what kind of approach to take. When she looked up, she forced an expression of puzzlement into her eyes.

“Why am I a prisoner?” she asked.

He ignored the question. “So, what were you doing here tonight?”

Anya shrugged. “Taking a walk in the forest.”

“Hmm, taking your top of the range, prototype sniper rifle out for a walk, were you?” He stretched his long legs out in front of him and regarded her thoughtfully. “Why don’t we save some time, cut the crap, and you tell me what you were really doing?”

“I told you—”

He held up his hand and she stopped.

“Perhaps we could start with why you came here to kill me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then, how about—where are my people?”

“I don’t know—”

He leapt up from his chair, gripped his fist in her shirt, and pulled her to her feet. Dragging her across the room, he slammed her into the bars of the cage behind her. The breath left her lungs in a whoosh. Then he was pressing her into the bars with his hard body. He leaned in close to her ear, and his warm breath whispered against her neck. “I
will
make you talk,” he murmured, and she shivered at the dark promise in his voice.

He released his grip on her shirt and stepped back, shoved his hands in his pockets and regarded her closely. “It goes against my better nature to hurt a woman, but I have three people missing and to get them back I am willing to put aside my better nature. And if I do find myself too squeamish to do whatever’s necessary then there are a few of my people who actually enjoy that sort of thing. An hour with them, and you’ll be begging to tell me everything you know.”

She drew herself up tall. “There’s nothing you can do to make me talk.”

His smile didn’t reach his cold blue eyes. “You say that, but you don’t believe it.” He drew in a deep breath. “You’re tough, but I can smell your fear.”

***

It was true. The intoxicating scent of her fear filled the room, waking the wolf inside him who howled to be free.

Something about this woman called to him and his wolf. He could still feel her body imprinted against his, and his balls ached for relief. He didn’t trust himself around her. Maybe he
should
hand her over to his men, but the thought of anyone else touching her, roughing her up, marring that flawless skin, made him grit his teeth in denial.

He’d studied many people in his time. Just because she feared did not mean she would break under torture. Many of the toughest people experienced fear but did not give in to it.

She moved suddenly, pushing off from the bars and high kicked him in the chest. He shuddered beneath the force of the blow but stood his ground. Any ordinary man would have been down. Unfortunately for her, he was about as far from ordinary as it was possible to get. Her eyes widened when she took in his lack of response, but she whirled around in the confined space and kicked out again. He grabbed her ankle and pulled her off balance so she crashed to the floor, her skull cracking against the hard concrete.

She put a hand to her head then stared up, her brow furrowing as she studied him. “What are you?”

“You don’t know?”

She blinked and shook her head.

Maybe this was the way to make her talk. Sebastian fell to his knees beside her. He put a hand on either side of her head and lowered his face to hers. Wolf rose up inside him, peered out of his eyes, and a growl trickled from his throat. Wolf wanted to smell her, and Sebastian buried his nose against her neck. She smelled divine, and he gave in to the urge and tasted her, licking his tongue along the length of her throat. She flinched beneath him then held herself immobile as he crouched over her. He could feel his hunger mounting. Forcing it down, he rose to stand beside her.

She lay at his feet, her eyes huge. “It was you in the forest. I thought I’d dreamed you.”

He didn’t answer, just watched as she pushed herself up, first onto her elbows. She winced then gritted her teeth and struggled to her feet, gripping the bars for support. He didn’t think she was faking her weakness. She’d hit her head hard out in the forest earlier and then again just now.

“Turn around,” he said.

She frowned. “What?”

“I want to have a look at that scalp wound. The last thing I need is for you to collapse and die on me before I can make you talk.”

He put his hands on her shoulders, and she flinched under his touch. He tightened his grip and turned her around. Her hair had come loose and he ran his fingers through the silky strands. A red, angry swelling marred the smooth line of her skull, but the skin hadn’t broken. He turned her back to face him, and slipped a finger beneath her chin, tilted her head so he could look down into her face. Her eyes were an amazing color, bitter chocolate flecked with gold, but the pupils weren’t dilated, and he was pretty sure she wasn’t concussed.

Her lips were slightly parted. Without thinking, his hand moved from her chin to her face, and he stroked the pad of his thumb over her full lower lip, swollen where she had worried it with her teeth.

Her eyes widened, her body stiffened, but she didn’t move away. Sebastian slipped his thumb between her lips and felt the warm, wet velvet caress of her tongue. His reaction was instant, his cock stiffening in his pants.

A deep longing filled him, to pick her up, carry her to the cot, and lose himself in her body. Instead, he pulled away and stepped back. He shoved his hands in his pockets to stop himself touching her. She stared at him, a bemused almost hurt expression on her face, and he had to bite back the need to tell her everything would be all right.

Which would very likely be a lie.

Jesus, what was it about this woman? He was in trouble. He had to get out of there. He crossed to door and banged on the bars. “Riley,” he called. “Let me out of here.” He turned back to her. “What’s your name?”

She shrugged. “Anya.”

“Well, Anya, I don’t want to hurt you, but my loyalty is to my people. I will do anything needed to get them back or avenge their death.” He shook his head. Why was he explaining?

Riley entered the outer room, and unlocked the cage. Sebastian stepped out and glanced back at Anya; she hadn’t moved.

“I’m going to leave you alone for a while,” he said. “I want you to think about it, and when I come back, you will tell me what happened to my people.” He locked the door and turned to leave.

 “Sebastian.”

 “What?”

“I’ll never talk.”

A pain clenched his heart. “Then I think we will both live to regret it.”