Chapter 4 Fire under skin

The noise was deafening.

Tankards were slammed, meat was torn off the bone by strong teeth, voices roared. Warriors laughed too boisterously, and the heat of the fire pit only made the walls feel closer. I hated crowded spaces, I always had for as long as I could remember, every sound bore down on my skin, demanding I bend.

And through it all, his eyes blazed upon me.

I felt his stare before I saw it, it was a weight, steady and deliberate. When I finally looked across the hall, Garrick's eyes were already on mine, he did not blink or look away when he was caught, he simply regarded me like a wolf regards his kill, slowly and cautiously, as though he had all the time in the world to interpret me.

Heat ascended the back of my throat, I forced myself to tear bread, chew and swallow, as though I wasn’t aware of the man at the far end of the table tracking my every move. But each time my eyes strayed to where he sat, he was there, unmoving with a set jaw and a hungry gaze.

I gripped the hardwood of the bench, if he thought I was going to shrink under his gaze, he was wrong.

The man next to me slammed his hand down on the table with a roar of laughter, nearly knocking my plate off my hand. I jerked back, my pulse racing. The room was too loud, too crowded, filled with too many people who did not know me.

Then the noise died down as a ripple of quiet swept along the table.

I didn't have to look to understand why. Garrick stood up.

His chair scraped against stone with a hard, commanding sound. He walked down the length of the table, drawing the focus of the room with him. The warriors dipped their heads as he made his way through them.

He stopped at my side, I didn’t look up, instead I curled my fist tightly in my lap.

“You don’t like this,” he said, his voice low enough for only me to hear. It wasn’t a question.

I forced myself to meet his eyes. “I don’t like being gawked at like cattle.”

A flicker of something passed through his gaze. Memory. Recognition. He remembered.

“Come with me.” His tone left no room for refusal.

“I’m not leaving with you.”

His fingers brushed the back of my chair. "You don't like the noise. You never did."

His words cut through me, he remembered. And with the remembering, something sour and sour churned in at the bottom of my stomach.

"You don't get to use the past as a weapon," I growled.

"I don't need to, your face is pale, your lip is pursed and you've hardly touched half of the meal in front of you, you’re also tapping your foot anxiously." His voice had relaxed but the steel beneath it still glinted. "So stand up and let's go."

I should have demanded to remain in the hall out of spite, but the manner in which his eyes came to rest on me,  relentless, hard and burning made my heart skip. My body obeyed that which my mind did not consent to. I shoved the bench away and got up.

The hall went still again, warriors watched with their heads bowed as Garrick guided me through the crowd. His hand didn’t touch my back, but the heat of him enveloped me like a presence so strong I could have sworn I felt his hand on mine even when he didn’t actually touch me.

We walked through an arched doorway, into the torch-lit corridor. The laughter behind us faded but my own heart continued to beat loudly.

"Where are we going ?" I asked.

"To have dinner without fifty voices shouting and laughing over  you," he retorted with sarcasm.

"That's extravagant. An Alpha being a generous host,"

He looked at me with his lip curled into something less than a smile. "You think I'd forget the girl who left every banquet halfway? You never liked noise or crowded spaces."

"Stop acting like knowing me once gives you the right to act the way you do.”

He stood in front of a huge wooden door and pushed it open. The smell of roasted meat and spiced wine drifted out. Inside, a smaller hall glowed with warmth from the golden light of fire. A two-person table was set, candles alight and plates steaming.

My stomach churned, this hadn't been on the spur of the moment, he’d thought this through.

"Sit," Garrick ordered.

I scowled. "I didn't ask for this."

"No. But you need it."

The way he addressed me,  so cool and authoritative, as if he knew I would do this, irritated me. Yet the truth was crystal clear, the hall had been unbearable, and this quiet was a miracle, but it came with the danger of being alone with him.

I walked past him, not flinching when my shoulder bumped against his chest. A brief brush of skin, but the spark that ran through me was lightning-fast and searing.

I settled into the chair and he sat down opposite me.

There was a tense silence that followed as the flames from the candlelight danced over the angles of his face, shadowing his jaw, darkening his eyes, making them look hungrier.

He leaned back in his chair, regarding me the way he did in the hall. "Better?"

I rotated a chunk of meat on my fork, not wanting to tell him precisely how right he was. "Quieter."

His eyes stayed on my lips as I chewed. Flame torched through my stomach again, fiery and recalcitrant.

I knocked the fork onto the plate with too hard a motion. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

His tone was cold and rigid.

"Like I’m already yours."

His jaw muscles tensed, but he didn't move back. "You're here, Anika. You were brought to me. That's not a look. That's a fact."

I pushed my chair back, my pulse racing and my heart beating fast. "I don't care what bargain was made. You don't own me."

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table, not shying from my gaze. "You can continue to keep yourself in denial if you wish. It will not extinguish what is burning between us."

The tension overbrimmed. I clamped my hands along the side of the table so they would not tremble.

My food grew cold before me. I couldn't eat with him sitting there, staring at me, each moment passing building more tension than the last. He sat back, too quiet, too calm, and I despised the space he occupied with not an inch of inaction.

"You think gawking at me will make me bow?" I snapped.

His lip curled, his movements unwilling. "You misunderstand me, Anika. I'm not waiting for you to bow. I'm waiting for you to break."

My knuckles turned white holding the handle of the goblet. "Then you'll wait forever."

"Will I?" He edged in, his eyes focused into my mouth. His voice lowered, and his voice was deeper now, as though he whispered to me. "Acknowledge that you don't sense it."

I was pierced by a breath. I yanked the words out of me unwillingly. "I don't."

He leaned his elbow on the table, inclining towards me. "Liar."

The word felt slippery on my skin as my heart thumped so violently that it hurt.

I pushed my chair back again and stood up, needing space and air. But Garrick stood up also, smoothly and steadily, tracking me like a predator stalking a prey. He never came close to me, but he moved when I moved, until the table edge pressed against my hip and the firefight threw his shadow over me.

"Stay where you are," I snarled at him, my throat thick and knotted.

He stopped, but he was still too close, his heat pressed into me without contact, making my chest feel tight. His eyes blazed into mine, not finching, with the kind of hunger that curled my insides.

"You're shaking," he whispered.

"I'm angry," I spat back.

"You're aroused," he corrected, with a rough voice and blazing eyes.

My breath hitched, anger and need all wrapped around each other that I could not separate them. "You're arrogant."

His lip curled into a smile. "You're wet."

I felt heat creeping up my face, but the flush was more than shame, it was the truth. He knew, and I despised the fact that I couldn't lie about it.

His hand crept up, slowly and rested just above my trembling jaw. I took in a deep breath, waiting and hating myself for wanting his touch.

Then his knuckles brushed my cheek, the contact was as light as a feather, but it tore through me with such force I stumbled.

"Still hate me?" he whispered.

"Yes," I struggled to say.

His thumb followed the shape of my lip, his eyes following the same path. His breathing grated out, his restraint blowing. "Say it again."

"I hate you," I repeated, my voice shaking.

"Good," he gasped. His hand dropped lower, following the shape of my throat with a sweep of his fingers. "Because hate can burn hotter than desire."

My legs melted. I dug my hand into the edge of the table, gripping hard enough to leave a bruise. His fingers stayed on my throat, not tightening, but resting there as if he could feel my hammering pulse.

"Let me go," I panted.

"I'm not holding you," he panted. "You're holding yourself from me."

And damn him, he was so right, my body leaned into the heat of his hand as my pussy clenched around nothing.

His gaze locked on mine, and for a moment, I thought he'd close the distance and kiss me till I was breathless. I held my breath in anticipation—

Then he released me.

The sudden coldness made my body ache and I hated him for it, I hated myself more for needing him to be close.

"You'll resist this," he growled, his voice deep and calm again. "You'll keep telling me no. But each time you look at me, each time my hands are on you, your body will betray you."

I fought to force the words out. "I'll never give you what you want."

His gaze sharpened. "You already are."

He took a few measured steps back, leaving me shaking, seething, and hungry for more of his touch.

I fought against a shuddering gasp, forcing myself to stand straight with my chin up. "You think this game will end in your favor."

"It already has," he replied, clenching his goblet in his hand as if everything was perfectly normal. His eyes said otherwise,they were  hot, restless and hungry.

I turned away, but the fire burning within me would not cease.

I tried to slide away from him, but Garrick pushed closer, his hand against the stone at the back of my head. He was close but not quite, and I could smell him all over me, cedar, smoke, and something much darker that stuck on.

"Going somewhere in particular?" His voice was low, thick with roughness in his voice.

"Away from you," I said, my response slow and slurred.

He leaned in closer to me, until I was pressed against the cold of the wall. His gaze found mine, heavy and loaded, and I was pulled in. "Tell me you hate me again."

I swallowed hard and braced. "I hate you."

"So why," he exhaled, his lips a hair's breadth from my ear, "is your heart racing like you want me to kiss you?"

I eased back. I shoved fists onto my hips. "Because you don't scare me."

His lips curled into a smile. "You should be afraid of me."

He moved nearer until we were standing chest to chest. I should have shoved him away, but I stayed, my body stiff with the anticipation of a moment I swore I didn’t want

His gaze wandered to my lips. "One taste," he whispered, "and you'll burn with me."

I breathed too loudly, betraying me. "You think you're irresistible."

"I know what you’re feeling," he told me. His nose touched brushed mine, a light brushing tenderness that left me panting. "And I feel it worse than you do."

I shook my head, but my body betrayed me, leaning in to him, hungry for more.

He hesitated, his gaze fastened on mine like a man wrestling with himself, between hold and ravish. Then his hand went up higher, slow and deliberate, until his fingers threaded through my hair. The soft pull left me breathless, and made my knees tremble.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered.

Yes. The word screamed in me. But it lodged itself in my throat, I couldn’t get it out.

My silence said everything that needed to be said.

His mouth grazed mine in a ghost kiss. His breath mingled with mine, warm and shallow, pulling me deeper into the moment I vowed I'd never allow to occur.

I hated him. I wanted him. I hated how much I wanted him.

"Say it," he growled, voice raw.

"I hate you," I panted.

His eyes blazed, rage lost to desire. "Good, hate me harder."

The door to the hall swung open.

We jerked apart as a guard rushed in, gasping, his chest heaving. "Alpha, I have urgent news. Rogues are on the southern border."

Garrick's eyes stayed locked on mine for a moment, his grip on my hair eased, but he didn't step back until I shoved at his chest.

He turned sharply, his voice as hard as metal. "Prepare the warriors."

The guard left.

I pressed back against the wall, my heart racing and my lips tingling from a kiss that hadn't even occurred, my whole body shook with fury and desire.

Garrick turned to me, his eyes still blazing. "This is far from finished, Anika."

And he was gone, leaving me trembling and appalled at how much I wanted him to come back.