"Where are you going?" Dillon followed him out of the office and down the hall, back toward the main gathering room.
His jaw set, his eyes blazing, Gray refused to slow. "If my mother's in Mondrar, I need to find a way to get her the hell out."
"You can't just walk into Mondrar. Trust me. You need to plan." She quickened her pace to keep up with him. "And you need help, especially of the Pureblood variety."
"You know Mondrar, huh?"
"Yes. And it's a total labyrinth. Impossible to find what you're looking for without a tour guide."
He was at the door to the main hall, his hand-the one that held the mark of the jaguar-wrapped around the silver knob. "Thanks for the advice."
"Wait," she cried out.
"No time, D."
"But I can help you!"
He paused for only a second, his chin cocked, his eyes evading hers. "This ain't your fight, remember?"
He was through the doors in an instant, leaving Dillon behind, her cat scratching to get out and run after its mate.
Alexander stalked the tunnels below the SoHo house, following his nose to a room of rock and iron that had once contained the animal inside himself, and most recently, the one inside of Dillon. He found the cage door open and his true mate sitting inside, clutching her cell phone.
"Here you are," he said with relief. He leaned against the side of the rock wall and took in her hunched shoulders and grim mouth.
"I'm not hiding, I swear," she said, her gaze remaining on her cell. "It's just quiet down here, in here."
"It is that. Always felt too quiet for me, though." He walked in, looked around. "In fact, I'm beginning to enjoy the sounds of family around me."
She didn't respond to his gentle push to talk about the life growing inside her, the life she hadn't wanted to share with him. And he needed to know why. He sat in front of her, their knees touching.
"Nicky and I went to the Hollow of Shadows," he said, thankful when her eyes lifted hopefully. He shook his head. "The Order wouldn't see us, didn't even acknowledge our presence."
She growled out a breath. "Why are they doing this? She didn't even know where Gray was."
Alex reached for her hands. "Don't worry, Sara. We'll get her out."
"Do you think Dillon got to Gray?"
He nodded. "If they really are true mates." He shifted closer. He wanted to pull her onto his lap, but she looked like she still needed her space. "I can't believe those two."
"I can." Her eyes found his and they glistened. "I knew they were falling for each other back when she found him whoring it up at the nightclub. She didn't like him with other women."
He tilted his head and joked, "Another secret you've been keeping from me?"
He'd made sure his tone was anything but accusatory, but her lower lip began to tremble.
"Sara, come here."
She didn't move, but burst out with an intense apology. "I'm sorry for not telling you."
This time he did pull her onto his lap, and held her close and tight and safe. "Don't be sorry for that."
She looked up into his eyes, not understanding his meaning.
He touched her face. Her beautiful, intelligent face that always made his gut ache with love-and that might very well be replicated on the wee one who grew within her. "Did you really think I'd react badly to this?"
Sara closed her eyes and sighed. "I know the thought of being a parent scares you."
"Damn right. Like nothing ever has or could."
"Then you understand why. All the changes this brings, a little life that's all ours. I couldn't bear it if you were disappointed, if I looked into your eyes and didn't see pleasure and excitement."
She was scared too, he realized. Not of the balas, but of losing his love. He had to make sure she understood that his love was always for her, would never wane, and was inside of her right now, growing strong and healthy.
"Look in my eyes, Veana," he demanded, tilting her chin with his fingers. "Tell me what you see."
Sara gave him a small smile before she took in his gaze. For several moments, she truly studied him; his eyes, his expression, and when he broke into a wide and happy smile, she did too.
He leaned in and kissed her. "Can't wait, my love. Can't wait to meet this balas." The sudden appearance of tears in her eyes brought him to his knees emotionally. "I don't know how I got this lucky. From a prisoner in this very cage to a mate and a father." His mouth was so close to hers. "From we to three. Oh, my dear, I love you so."
The round, red Impure Resistance symbol was painted into the entire length of floor in the room off the main hall. The four coiled snakes with fangs extended was permanent and a reminder of why this credenti was built, and for whom, and that the Impures would always fight for choice and freedom.
Rio pulled back from the small vampire circle that stood around the painted one. "We're blocked again."
"We were too quick going in," Piper added.
"Or too sloppy," Rio remarked.
Piper tossed him a testy glare. "Let's try again. We'll go slower this time."
Gray felt the power of the warriors recede inside of him and the hum of unease saturate his organs. "This isn't going to happen. The Order has severed all known links into the mainframe. What are our other options? I need to get into Mondrar tonight."
"I'll give our contact a call," Piper said. "The one who gave us information on the senator. But something like this...It's going to cost big-time."
"Do it," Gray said without hesitation. "I'll cover it-whatever the cost."
Piper nodded. "Give me a couple of hours, okay?"
"If I have to," Gray grumbled.
"Better to go in under the cover of night anyway."
When she walked away, no doubt heading to her office within the main hall, Vincent dropped a hand on Gray's shoulder. "Go back to your place," he said, and Rio gave a nod of agreement. "Get some rest; get some food. You're going to need serious muscle if you expect to pull this off."
There was no point in arguing, and no other options at the moment. Vin and Rio were right. He needed to unplug, get something to eat, and get himself right before he went into the Order's jail and took what belonged to him and his family.
He left the main building and walked down the path to the private strip of beach. The anger that swelled within him every time he thought about his mother and the lies she'd just kept spewing over the years was still there, deep inside him. He didn't think it would ever truly go away. But shit, just the thought of her in that hole. It made him want to rip off the heads of every Order member, then refasten them and do it all over again.
Betraying the Breed. Fuck them. His mother was innocent. It was the Order-they'd been betraying the Breed since the beginning of time.
As he neared his cottage, the scent of veana and jaguar rushed into his nostrils and dropped three feet, giving him an instant hard-on.
So she hadn't bolted. She'd found her way to his home and invaded it like the delectable plague she was. His chest swelled; the back of his hand went hot. He could fight this need all goddamn day and night, but it went far beyond a response he could control now.
The small house he'd designed stood sturdy and welcoming, but instead of going inside, Gray headed around the side to the back. Her scent became heavy and lush there, and he wasn't surprised to find her in the small hot spring that had once been connected to the ocean in the distance.
She looked to be sitting on a rock beneath the water, her arms outstretched on the bank. The sight shook him up something fierce. Not because she was naked, her breasts and ripe nipples floating deliciously at eye level with the water. But because he'd imagined her here, just like this.
Waiting for him.
"How did you get in here?" he demanded. "How did you find this place?"
"Followed my nose," she said with irritating simplicity. "Been working really well so far."
He didn't appreciate this game she was playing. Not after she'd run out on him in the alley this morning. "Making yourself at home."
She shrugged, which only managed to show off her incredible breasts even more. "You don't have a shower. I was pretty filthy, so I thought I'd take a bath." She looked around herself. "What is this place? A new Resistance Headquarters?"
"The new Impure credenti," he told her. "We've been building it for several months. Should be ready in a few weeks."
Dillon's soft gaze hardened. In fact, she was looking at him like he was crazy.
"An Impure credenti?" she repeated with disdain. "You offer this to a significant portion of the vampire population and it's like waging war on the Order."
He moved closer to her, closer to the heat. "If they wish to make it so."
Dillon rolled her eyes and scoffed. "They'll make it so-they'll make it a huge motherfucking death sentence."
"We'll see." He walked past her, his gaze on the ocean in the distance, pulling its weight to shore.
"You really ready to fight to the death over this?" she called to his back. "And before you answer, let me say it won't be just your death. Everyone you take on this trip into battle will go down with you."
Go down. Why was she always ready to admit defeat? Run in the other direction when something got hard and daunting? He turned back to face her. "The problem is, D, you think the Order is indestructible."
She turned too, rested her arms on the bank. "I know the Order, Gray. I know one of their ex-members so well I could scent him at a thousand feet. They are ruthless, unsympathetic devil vampires. They'll never surrender to Impures-no matter how just the Cause."
Her passion, her fear burst from her features. This wasn't just about winning an argument or losing a battle with the Order. This was about her feelings for him. She cared, maybe even more than she knew. And right now, with the moon lighting up her face, he could see it all, an unmasked expression of care, desire, maybe even love.
And it was irresistible.
He stripped out of his clothes as he walked toward her, then dove over her head into the pool. When he surfaced, he found her just a few feet away.
"They're everything you say and more, D," he said, watching the steam rise around her. "And that's just one of the reasons they must be dealt with. Not reasoned with-but dealt with. The warriors and I will exhaust all avenues until we have a place of equality within this society."
Her gaze moved over his shoulders, his chest. "Why not just live outside the credenti, your own rule, under the radar, running if you need to-"
"We shouldn't have to run," he said, adding pointedly, "No one should." He swam toward her, and she backed up until the curve of the bank stopped her. Gray placed one hand on either side of her shoulders, blocking her in. "Not from our pain, our past-or a future we refuse to fight for because we're scared."
"I'm not scared," she assured him.
But he didn't stop. "Or because we don't think we deserve it."
"Gray, please stop this. You're not listening to me. This isn't the way to fight them-"
He leaned in and kissed her. One soft, hungry kiss. And when he pulled back, he said, "You deserve it."
His words cut her. He could see it in her eyes, her face. She shook her head. She looked exhausted, and for the first time strangely vulnerable. He didn't want to care, but that was bullshit-he cared. He cared like a foolish, head-up-his-ass male.
"Why do you think this happened?" she whispered.
"The true mates thing?" he asked.
She nodded. "It's so unfair, so wrong. I don't know what to do with it."
He frowned, his guts tightening, but he said with a thread of dark humor, "Nothing in the world that disgusts you more than to be bound to me, huh?"
"Yes."
His frown deepened. "Christ." He started to move away, but she grabbed his hand, the hand that bore her mark.
Her eyes caught his and held. They were desperate, miserable. "I would rather be bound to anyone else."
"Stop," he snarled brutally. "Just stop talking now."
But she wouldn't. "Being bound to someone you love is the worst fate in the world for someone like me," she cried out.
Gray stilled with shock. "What?"
She shook her head.
Blood pounded in his ears and his cock was hard as steel. He wasn't having any more of this horseshit. He gathered her up and held her to him. "What did you just say? And for fuck's sake, say it loud because I can't tell if it's just me hearing shit or you just told me you loved me."
Seawater dripped from her shoulders, her neck, the tips of her nipples, but what glistened in her eyes came from a very different place. "I love you, Gray. I do."
He went completely and utterly mad with hunger. Crushing her to him, he stole her mouth and kissed her hard and deep. She moaned against him and gave him her tongue to suckle. He drew it in and savored it. She tasted like the ocean, like tears, and he drank from her, his arms pressing her sides, his hands raking up into her hair to hold her scalp.
He tipped her chin back and kissed her neck, her jaw, one side of her mouth, then the other. Her eyes opened and she stared at him through dark, wet lashes. Her gaze was searching, intensely vulnerable, as though she were asking herself if she'd done the right thing admitting her true feelings to him. Gray offered her a small smile of gratitude, and instantly her expression changed, softened, and she surged toward him and captured his mouth again.
It was like a rush of honey, and his fingers fisted in her wet hair as he sucked her tongue into his mouth. She moaned and pressed her core against his hip. Steam rose up all around them like a screen, protecting them, encasing them in heat and scent and hunger.
As he kissed her, he moved, dragged her to the other side of the spring. He was lost in the headiness of the moment, felt like a drugged human who would die if he didn't get his fix. When his back hit the bank, he gripped her waist and lifted her so he could see her breasts in the shaft of moonlight. Nostrils flaring, he stared. She was so goddamn perfect. Full and round with a hint of slope that would lead him straight to heaven. He growled, calling out to her jaguar, warning the protective feline that her true mate was hungry and would be fed.
He lowered his head and took as much of the soft flesh of her breast into his mouth as possible. She gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, and keened into the cold air. He released her and just nuzzled the wet, heavy globe until he heard the cat purr. A grin hit his mouth and he flicked the bud with his nose once before suckling it again, first with his tongue, then gently scraping at the tip with his fangs. Above him, Dillon moaned and bucked her hips, and the steam around them began to scent of her, wet heat and hungry veana.
Gray's cock pulsed against his belly, ached, begged him to lower Dillon right onto his shaft, but he wasn't ready for dessert yet.
Shit, he hadn't even had dinner.
With a snarl of demonlike possessiveness, Gray whirled around and placed her on the very edge of the bank.
"Open up for me, D," he commanded with rough hunger. "As wide as you can."
Dillon whimpered from her perch and slowly spread her thighs. They shook. Goddamn, she shook.
"Not nearly enough," he uttered wickedly. "My tongue aches and my throat is so dry, baby. I need to drink you down."
She tore in a breath, wiggled her backside.
"Feet up now, baby, knees bent. That's right." When she was completely exposed to him, he reached around and grabbed her ass, slid her forward. "This is how I like it." He watched, his skin on fire, as pearly moisture leaked from her cunt. "Baby, you're crying for me."
"Oh God, Gray, please," she begged above him, dropping her hands behind her so he could have even more access.
Gray lowered his head and licked her.
Just once.
One lap from cunt to clit.
Dillon cried out.
The sound that echoed within him, rumbled through him was all pain, pleasure, and decadent torture. "You have the sweetest goddamn tears in the world, D."
And then he buried his head between her legs and feasted on her sweet syrup. The taste of her went straight to his cock. The thing jumped and pulsed against his belly, beading with precum, but he told it to fuck off, to be patient, and he drank deep until her swollen clit called to him. Raking his tongue from the opening of her body straight up between her drenched pussy lips, he circled around the hot bud, then suckled it into his mouth.
Dillon quaked and writhed in his arms, but he held on, suckled until he felt her clit swell against his tongue. Then he released one hand from her buttocks and brought it to her clit. While his fingers feathered the pulsing bud, he fucked her with his tongue.
"Oh God, yes! Gray. Please. I can't take any more."
But even as she said it, he gave her more. His thumb working her clit, tugging at the swollen flesh, dragging it up and down as his tongue went so deep he had to open his mouth wider, let his fangs rest on the head of her pussy.
And then he pressed them down gently, the hard, sharp tips just piercing a millimeter of her flesh.
It was like an earthquake against his mouth, against his tongue, as the walls of her pussy clenched and soaked the back of his throat in cream. Fuck yes! God, this veana was his, every inch, every drop. Dillon bucked and cried out as she came, and Gray just let her ride his mouth and tongue until the waves of pleasure receded.
He could've stayed there all day, camped out between her trembling thighs, licking her nice and slow and gentle until she came again, but Dillon wasn't having it. She wriggled down into the water, her skin pink and dusted with sweat. Or was it mist from the spring? Either way, he wanted a taste as she rode a different part of his anatomy.
But before he could get his hands around her waist, she turned and gave him her back. "Fuck me, Gray. Please."
Gray tensed. Her hands were spread, her legs too, and she was leaning over, using the bank to hold her weight. All he had to do was slip inside and take what he wanted-what his dick was screaming for.
He took a step closer, his thighs against the backs of hers, his hands itching to wrap around the curves of her hips.
"What's wrong?" she uttered, sudden tension in her voice. But she didn't look at him, didn't even glance over her shoulder. "You don't want me."
"Shit, D." His voice was gravel rough. "You feel my cock against your back. It's ready to explode. I'm ready to explode. But this isn't cutting it. You love me and I love you, and yet you'll only let me fuck you from behind."
Her head dropped forward. "What's wrong with that?" she nearly whimpered. "Most males would be very happy for a fuck-"
"Stop right there." He grabbed her hips, but only to turn her around to face him. His rock-hard glare slammed into her soft, green one. "When are you going to get it? I'm not most males. I'm not looking to screw you and walk, fuck you, then watch you walk away."
"I know that."
But he didn't believe she did. Hell, he was pretty sure she believed the opposite. His hands went to her face. "How do I get you to look at me?"
"Stop," she uttered, trying to pull free.
As much as he hated seeing her struggle, both with him and with her insides, Gray knew this had to happen or they couldn't be, couldn't go any further than fucking like animals. "How do I get you to face me, let me hold you, let me look into your eyes as I kiss you, as I move inside of you?"
Her eyes were wide; her fangs scraped at her lower lip. "You don't."
"I want to look at you, goddamn it!"
"And I just want you to fuck me!"
"What is it? What stops you from having even the smallest bit of intimacy?"
"I let you into my body," she cried. "That's pretty damn intimate."
He put one hand, the very one that held her mark, on her left breast. "I want to get into your heart, not just your cunt, Dillon. Christ."
Her lips trembled. "I can't."
"Why?" he rasped, his guts ripping apart inside him.
"I can't. I won't be able to...It won't work..."
He had a pretty good idea what was going on here, the fear inside her, the past creeping between them. He wasn't going to allow it. "What won't work?"
She tried to turn toward the bank. "I'm done here."
"No." He wouldn't let her go. This was it. They gave themselves over to each other or they gave up.
She glared at him. "I'm a hundred times stronger than you, Gray! I could snap you like a fucking twig!"
He held her firm. "Do what you gotta do, baby."
"You won't hold me against my will!" she screamed. "EVER!"
Pure misery and purer love wrapped around Gray in that moment. She wasn't perfect, and shit, he was far from perfect, but there was love there, a long-term and consistent fight within both of them that kept this flame alive.
Slowly, gently, he eased a wayward hair from her face and curled it around her ear. "If you need to beat the shit out of me to release some of what's holding you hostage, then do it."
She broke then. Crumpling in his arms, she cried, "Why are you doing this? Why won't you just run like everyone else in my sorry motherfucking life?"
He was really going to make the male responsible for this scream in agony. He kissed her cheek, the crease of her eye where one sad tear tried to escape. "No one ran from you, D. Take a good look back and you'll see it was you-you who did all the running." His eyebrow lifted a fraction. "I'm not saying there wasn't a good reason. But it's done. No one is ever going to hurt you again. Stop running, baby, and stand still with me."
"Oh, Gray..."
He picked her up and gently placed her down on his shaft, but instead of pumping inside her, he pulled her against his chest and just held her to him. Held her strong and supportive until he felt her limbs relax, until her breathing slowed.
Dillon felt as though she were being carried. Not by his body or his arms, but by his love for her and his unflinching belief in them as a couple. Her insides warmed and her cunt squeezed around his shaft and she held on tight. God, she wanted to believe in them too, so much. If she could just let go now, right now, and trust that this male she loved wouldn't let her fall.
Leaving the safety of his warm chest and steady heartbeat wasn't easy, but she lifted her head and looked into his eyes.
He smiled. "There's my baby."
One of his hands remained around her while the other traveled down to cup her backside. It was the most difficult, most wonderful, most gut-wrenching feeling to look into Gray's eyes while he began to slowly thrust inside of her.
She felt impaled, both in her core and in her unbeating heart. Dillon, the Beast, the mutore, the one who survived on shame, loved and was loved.
"Don't close your eyes, D," he said with fierce, possessive hunger. "Not for this ride."
She nodded, quivering in his arms as heat spread within her.
"Keep looking at me. Even when you come." He kissed her, suckled her lower lip. "Especially when you come."
His words sent another shock of heat to her core, and her cunt clenched mercilessly. She wanted to come so badly, and yet she didn't want this intimacy, this intensity between them to end.
Water jumped and sprayed around them as Gray ground his cock inside her, circling his hips, pistoning inside her. But his eyes never left hers and his arms remained strong around her.
"You belong to me now," he growled possessively. "Never forget that." His nostrils flared and he looked like he could eat her raw.
He bent his knees and thrust deeply, battering her cunt again and again until Dillon lost her breath completely and gripped his back, his shoulders, her nails digging into his flesh.
"Oh God, Dillon," he uttered, his gaze fierce and his voice strained. "Baby, you're sucking me so deep, from the head to the base of my cock-I'm drenched in your cream."
Shaking, on the verge of exploding, Dillon wrapped her legs tighter around his waist and bucked her hips, moving with him, taking blow after blow as she held his gaze and tears spilled down her cheeks.
"I love you, D," he whispered, so pained. "I love you so fucking much I think I'll die from it."
"No," she whispered. "You'll live. Just like me, with me-over me, night after night, your eyes on mine."
Gray grabbed her hips, settled his cock deep inside her, then executed a series of wondrous, breath-shattering, earth-shaking blows to her cunt. One, two, three-until Dillon cried out. Shaking uncontrollably, her eyes wide, she lifted her chin and howled her release. Then Gray too fell, delivering one final thrust before he answered her call with one of his own.
It wasn't her first fuck, Dillon thought through the haze, through the heat.
But it was the first time she'd ever made love.
