Mine to Possess

CHAPTER 32

Night had fallen in a soft whisper, but Talin hardly noticed. She sat at the small breakfast table on the second floor of the lair, her mind still spinning with the realization she’d had mere hours ago. She wanted to deny it but it rang with the clarity of absolute truth, a truth she had to understand. Yes, her fear of watching Clay turn from her in disgust had been at the root of her actions, but that fear had been tangled up with so many other threads.

She had been on the cusp of womanhood when she’d run from Clay with that most brutal of lies—young, confused, lost. Now that she was willing to see, it was stark that in her confusion, she had mixed up the protective fury of Clay’s love with the jealous rage she’d seen in Orrin. That twelve-year-old girl who had missed Clay so desperately had also been terrified that he would destroy her trust if she let him back into her life. The memories of Clay protecting her, keeping her safe, laughing with her, had been the only treasures she’d had left.

Even that wasn’t the whole story. It was too simple, and she was through with hiding. The unforgiving reality was that in spite of her youth, she must have subconsciously known that he wouldn’t be an easy man to love. No, Clay was hard through and through. But he had loved her enough to put everything on the line—his sanity, his freedom, his pride. All so important to a dominant predatory changeling. She didn’t know what he felt for her now, but she knew it was time to hold up her end of the bargain. To love him enough. Enough to not let fear stop her, whatever guise it took.

A slight noise cut into her thoughts as Clay pulled himself up to the second level. “Damn, I just got a sharp reminder from Tammy about a pack thing. You’ve got fifteen minutes to get ready or we’ll be late. It’s close to six already.”

“I can’t,” Talin said, gesturing at the papers spread out on the table, papers she’d barely looked at since coming home. Guilt stabbed. “I have to see if I missed anyth—”

“I told you,” Clay interrupted. “We’re taking care of that. We’ve got people out there right now. I’ve tapped a Psy connection who might get us something very useful. But this dance, tonight, is important to the pack.”

“I’m not part of DarkRiver.” And she needed time to consider her next step. She didn’t know how to be in a relationship, didn’t know how to open herself up that much. “I’ll be a stranger.”

“No, you won’t. You’ll be with me.” He stroked his fisted hand along her ponytail. “Please, Tally.”

Her heart clenched. He called her Tally, but he didn’t trust her with his soul, the leopard’s wariness hidden behind a near-impenetrable shield—yet she knew. Did he think she didn’t? Silly, arrogant leopard. She knew him too well, loved him too much, to not see. “You said ‘please,’” she teased, fighting past the painful insight that no matter what happened, he might never again love her as he once had.

“Very funny.”

“I want to. But I’d feel so guilty having fun while—”

“A few hours, that’s all. It’ll help you get your head back on straight.”

She had to agree with that. Her focus was shot, which reminded her—“Did you get an update on Max?”

“He’s fine, conscious. I had a packmate swing by and do a physical check.”

Some of the weight crushing her lightened. “Tell me, why the dance?”

“It’s to celebrate the formal blessing of a mating.”

“Like a wedding?”

“Mating is nothing like marriage. It’s forever. Mated pairs never choose to leave each other,” he said. “Complete loyalty till death.”

Her soul ached at the thought of the beauty, and the terror, in such a commitment. “Why the blessing if it’s already decided?”

“To show the pack’s acceptance, welcome Zach’s mate into DarkRiver.” His eyes grew intent, penetrating. “You okay, Tally?”

He knew her far too well, too, but she couldn’t let him sense this hurt, didn’t want her new knowledge—of the love she might’ve lost forever—to come between them. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

His expression gentled. “I need to be there, baby. I’m a sentinel.”

“Your presence matters to them,” she said, so proud of what he’d become. “I understand. Let me freshen up.”

Once in the bedroom, she quickly washed her face and hands, then pulled on the newest and nicest shirt she had packed. It was white and long-sleeved, the severe lines broken up by slender panels of fine lace down both sides. She left on the jeans she was wearing, but let down and brushed her hair. Then, on a whim, she dug around in her bag until she found a little zippered pocket. She thought she’d forgotten to take out something from there the last time she’d—Her hand touched metal.

“Bingo!” She lifted out the faux-silver earrings. A Celtic design, they would swing gently from her ears, dressing up her simple outfit. Her smile dimmed as she stood in front of the mirror slipping them into her ears.

Jon had given her these a few months ago. They were cheap—he’d found them at some flea market—but they meant everything, because he had bought the gift with honest, hard-earned money. “I haven’t forgotten you,” she promised with fierce dedication. “We haven’t forgotten you.” Because finally, after much too long, she had realized her leopard would stand by her through every darkness.

Clay was leaning against a tree at the edge of the Pack Circle, watching Nico swing Talin around, when he felt a familiar presence. Sascha came to stand beside him, keeping a small distance between them. Though most changelings craved touch, she knew he wasn’t one for casual contact.

“She looks like she’s having fun.”

Clay nodded. “Yeah.”

“So why are you standing here?”

“I’m not a big dancer.”

Sascha shifted and he knew she’d folded her arms. “That’s your excuse for tonight. What about all those other times you choose the shadows?”

“What’s this—free psychoanalysis?” He had made it very clear that he didn’t want anyone, even Sascha, peering into his emotions. “Been peeping, Sascha?”

“I don’t actively have to look, you know that. I pick up emotional echoes like you pick up scents.” She leaned back against his tree. “Things have improved a considerable amount since Talin came into your life, but you’re not happy.”

“You’re a genius.”

“Stop being flippant,” she said, quiet power in her voice. “This is important. You aren’t helping Talin by being this way.”

He glanced at her. “Tally is my business.”

“She might have been once,” she replied. “But you brought her into the pack and now she’s ours, too.”

Clay felt the leopard uncurl into a crouch inside of him. “What are you saying?”

“We like her. We’ll look out for her. Even against you.”

He tempered his response with cold steel. “I will look out for Talin.”

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “All I see is this wall you’ve got around yourself, so hard, so thick. She’s your way out, Clay, but only if you let her be.”

Nico jerked Talin in a particularly energetic whirl and Clay scowled. She was human, not changeling. He hoped the boy remembered she could be more easily hurt. Then she laughed and he relaxed. “Stop talking in riddles and give it to me straight.”

A frustrated sound. “Fine. Whatever it is that you’re letting poison your relationship, you need to get over it. You’re not good for her like this.”

The blunt comment stunned him. Sascha was intensely loyal to DarkRiver. The fact that she’d put Talin’s well-being above his gained her another slice of his respect, even as the implications of her statement angered him. “I’m giving her everything I can. More than I’ve ever given anyone.”

“Not enough, Clay. And she knows it.”

Claws raked his gut. “She’s not like you. She can’t feel what I feel.”

“You tell yourself that if it makes you feel better.” She moved into his line of sight, tall enough that he only had to lower his head a few inches to meet her gaze. “Your Tally is one of the most sensitive human beings I’ve ever met. Some abused children become that way—alert to the slightest changes in the emotional temperature of a room or a relationship. She knows exactly what you feel.”

“Sascha!” Lucas called out from the Circle. “Stop flirting with Clay and come dance with your mate.” His grin was a bright slash.

Sascha turned, her face softening even in profile. “I’ve said what I had to say. The rest is up to you.” Then she walked toward the Circle and into Lucas’s arms. Talin was dancing with Nico right next to the alpha pair and Clay saw her look up at Lucas as he said something and smiled down at his mate.

Even from this distance, he could read the look on her face: hunger.

Not sexual. Deeper, needier—as if she was witnessing something she thought she would never have. It cut him far deeper than anything Sascha had said.

Pushing off the tree, he strode toward her. Nico saw him over Talin’s head and his eyes widened. Clay never danced. The juvenile said something to Talin and released her, backing off to find another partner. She turned, her own eyes huge. “Clay?” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

She seemed not to know where to put her hands. After a few hesitant seconds, she slid them around his waist but kept enough distance between them that she could look up into his face. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.” He tried to pull her closer, but she resisted.

“Nothing wouldn’t make you look like you want to bite someone’s head off.”

“Dance with me.”

“Clay—”

“I’ll tell you after the dance.” He’d show her. She damn well wasn’t going to keep hurting the way she was right now.

“Promise?”

His low growl made one of the nearby juveniles give him a wary look. Talin smiled and snuggled close enough to press her cheek against his heartbeat.

He looked down, bemused. He figured a hundred years later, he still wouldn’t understand her completely. The cat in him was pleased by the thought of such an intriguing mate.

Mate.

Of course she was meant to be his mate. Something settled in him at the conscious recognition of a truth he had always known. The second she accepted the mating bond, she was going to belong to him in the most indisputable of ways. Mates were forever. No leopard mated twice.

Even if their mate died.

His arms tightened reflexively around her.

“Hey,” she complained.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She squeezed her own arms around him as they swayed in opposition to the lively music. “I like dancing with you.”

“Yeah.”

Talin didn’t know what was wrong with Clay, but the emotion in that single word was so raw, so powerful, her heart about stopped. She wanted to ask him so many questions, but for now, she held on to him and they danced. It was a perfect moment, a dance with this man she adored beyond all others.

The clock had barely ticked past ten when they returned home. “I had fun. And now I feel bad.” Taking off her earrings, she put them carefully by the comm panel, then collapsed onto one of those huge cushions Clay used as sofas. “It seems so wrong to have gone dancing while I could have been doing something.”

“What?” Closing the door, he came to loom over her. “What could you have been doing?”

“Well, I could’ve looked at the files again.”

“And seen nothing you haven’t seen ten times already.” Shaking his head, he sat down in a quintessentially masculine sprawl opposite her. “We’ve set things in motion. Now we wait—sometimes the best way to hunt is to let the prey think you’ve given way.”

She gave a reluctant nod, knowing he was right. There was nothing else she personally could do. It was time to have faith in Clay and his pack. “Thank you for helping me. For asking your pack to help me.”

She could almost see it, almost touch it—the slow rising of the same heat that had been in his eyes most of the night. And she was its sole focus. Her body tightened.

“I would’ve done it for their women.”

Implication wasn’t enough, not with this heavy warmth threatening to hijack her body. “Am I your woman, Clay?”

It seemed as if even the forest hushed as she waited to hear his answer. Those green eyes, so bright, so beautiful, skated over her face, down her throat, over the rise and fall of her breasts, the curve of her waist, and the legs she had curled under herself. She sucked in an unsteady breath and his body went predator-still.

“Come here, Tally.” It was a command, sensual, rich, erotic.

Heartbeat in her throat, she uncurled her legs, a visceral awareness sweeping across every inch of her skin. What he’d said, the way he’d said it. He wanted her to accept this thing between them, accept it in a way that left no room for argument, a way that reversed her girlhood decision to cut him out of her life.

She was moving before she knew it—she had already made her decision. To love him enough. When she stopped, it was to find herself kneeling on his cushion, trapped by the muscular strength of his legs on either side. Placing her hands on his raised knees, she said, “I’m here.”

He ran a finger down the row of buttons that closed her shirt. “I want to peel apart this shirt and see your breasts.”

It was getting difficult to breathe. “O-okay.” Her hands clenched on him.

“This isn’t friendship.” A blunt statement, underscoring the dividing line they were about to cross.

“No. It’s okay,” she repeated when he just watched her.

“Is it?” A finger nudging aside cloth to stroke the dip of her breastbone.

“What do you want?” she asked, desperate to give it to him.

“Is this punishment, Tally?” Cat-green eyes clashing with her own. “Are you giving in to me because you want to hurt yourself? Am I another faceless fuck you plan to forget?”

“What?” Her hands fisted against the roughness of denim. “No!” She couldn’t believe she had ever worried about not feeling with Clay during sex. It was impossible to be anything but fully engaged—his leopard demanded it and so did her own fierce hunger. “I’m not giving in. I’m choosing this because you make me crazy with need, you arrogant cat. I want to mark you, make sure the world knows you belong to me.”

Those male lips seemed to soften. “Then tell me what you want.”

If her heart hadn’t already been his, he would’ve captured it then and there. He might be in a dangerous mood, but he was hers—maybe she didn’t have all of him but what she had, she would cherish with every breath in her. “I want to see you,” she whispered.

His eyes snapped up to meet her gaze. “I was thinking more along the lines of what would pleasure you. I don’t have much patience left.”

“You never had much patience,” she teased, though her stomach was tight with such frantic sensual craving, it hurt. “Seeing your body gives me pleasure.”

Eyes holding a surprised, strangely vulnerable look, he reached down, undid a few buttons on his dress shirt, then pulled it off and threw it to the side. All at once, his beautiful, naked chest was there for her to taste, kiss, enjoy. This very dominant male had just given her total skin privileges. Delighted, she flattened her hands on him, luxuriating in the tensile strength of pure muscle covered by hot, dark, beautiful skin. The crispness of the hair that curled under her palms was yet another seductive sensation.

She felt him place his hands on her hips but was too focused on his beauty to pay attention. Never, before Clay, had the mere sight of a man been enough for her body to ready itself for penetration. But today she was melting from the inside out and oh, how she liked it. Trailing her fingers down his chest, she found herself wondering what it would feel like to strip off her clothing and rub her nipples against the rough heat of him. Something tightened between her thighs, a hungry, aching need that begged to be satisfied.

There was a vibration against her palms. She bit her lower lip, fought the wave of sheer pleasure…and the piercing realization that that vibration would serve to intensify the sensations she craved. “You’re purring again.”

His lips curved. “I can scent your arousal.”

It should’ve made her blush. But it only made her hotter. “I can see yours.” He was hard under the straining zipper of his jeans. And big. Very big. Her body clenched and unclenched, urging her to unzip him, let him fill her up. It would hurt so-damn-good.

“Drop your arms.”

Face hot with the erotic images dancing through her head, she raised it to discover he’d unbuttoned her shirt. “No.” Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned in. “Kiss me first.”

“Going to be a brat in bed, too?” His hands slipped under her open shirt to hold on to her waist as he took her mouth in hot, languorous kiss that made her feel so sexy she thought she might just be able to conquer the world.

“I get to give a few orders, too,” she murmured.

His hands slipped down, closed over her bottom. Squeezed. She was still gasping over that when one of those deliciously callused hands slid up over her back and around to her front. She held her breath.