Total pages in book: 57
Estimated words: 54803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54803 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
I take another step back. I need to get somewhere I can breathe. Somewhere I can stuff my bear back down.
“You’re a patronizing ass.”
I grin because I like when she gives it back to me. I like her resistance, her sass. “Not patronizing, just an ass. And you’re tipsy. Sleep it off.”
I shut the door firmly, like she’s an errant child I sent to bed. Maybe I am patronizing. I give my cock a brutal squeeze through my jeans and grind my teeth.
This female will be the death of me.
I don’t even know what I was thinking, offering to sex her up. I can’t even blame that on the bear. It was all me.
But finding out she’s never known pleasure—it just seemed like a goddamn travesty. The gentleman in me had to offer to right that wrong. I swear it was an act of community service, not self-interest.
Oh fuck that, who am I kidding? I’ve wanted to pound into that woman since the moment I first saw her drive up the mountain. There’s just something about her. That fierce determination. Her bond with her dog. The way she looked at my bear like he was a fucking unicorn or something. And that was before I saw her naked. Now I can’t stop thinking about those big, beautiful breasts. Her hourglass figure, the child-bearing hips made for me to hold onto as I give it to her hard.
But I’m not doing a relationship. I have no plan to ever replace Jen as my mate, especially not with a human. So I would’ve just kept my hands off her.
Then she had to go and tell me she hates sex. Now I’m not gonna be able to stop thinking about fixing that problem for her.
But even if she comes out sober and still wants to tango—which I doubt she will—I don’t even think I’m capable of fucking her without losing control.
I’ve got to get the bear locked down. And if I can’t, I’d better get the hell out of this cabin. Because if I make a mistake. If I lose control, the consequences will be too great. And then I’ll have no choice but to turn myself into the Tucson pack and ask Garrett to put me down for good.
* * *
Test Subject 849
“Time for your tests,” I crow to the female in the cage.
“No.” She huddles against the back of the dog kennel in her filthy bra and panties—the same pair she’s been wearing for months. I open the door, reach in and shoot her with a muscle relaxant so she can’t fight me before I pull her out.
Not that she’s much of a threat against my super-human strength, but you can never be too careful.
I strap her to a gurney and withdraw her blood, mixing it with the serum before I inject it back into her. I slap her cheeks, watching her pupils for changes as the serum takes effect.
Just a few more test subjects and we’ll get the right formula. We’ll unlock the DNA of all shifters.
The tests on healing abilities have been inconclusive. All of the cuts and bruises I’ve inflicted on the subjects heal at a normal, human rate.
I require more data. A larger sample size.
If only I’d been able to take that bear shifter and her daughter, I’d have everything I need. I could’ve reworked my own DNA. Possibly bred her to make my own shifter offspring. But she’d shifted and attacked, and I’d killed her before I could get control.
My own fear / pain response triggers too quickly.
There must be a more satisfactory balance. One with more control. With the missing DNA filled into the sequence for complete transformation.
“Please,” the female begs, but she’s helpless to move.
I slap her anyway. She needs to learn to be more agreeable to my tests. Like I was when they tested me.
The only way she’ll be rewarded with the upgraded DNA is through her compliance.
I slap her again, just because it satisfies me on some level. “Quiet. Your job is to remain quiet and let your blood assimilate the serum. Then we’ll test your pain levels.”
I turn to the female strapped down beside her. “Your turn,” I say, chuckling at the acrid scent of fear that comes off her.
Chapter 7
Miranda
When Caleb left me on the bed with my body on fire and my confidence ruffled, I wanted to throw something at him. But it turns out he was right.
I was drunk.
And a nap helped.
I wake up a couple hours later with a much clearer head.
And then I’m afraid to leave the bedroom because I can’t decide if I should be embarrassed or pissed off or grateful. Well, there’s no decision, really. I’m all three.
I’m relieved to know Caleb is as much of a gentleman as I suspected. Rough-edged, grumpy, but pure chivalrous gentleman.