to fight those challenges.”
She hated that she had to control the urge to stomp her foot like a frustrated child. “Why? Because I didn’t have a choice. I’ve never wanted to fight the stupid things, but your never-ending list of past lovers just pushed and pushed, until the Elders ordered me to accept!”
“So it’s true then, that the League made you fight. Elise thinks they’re punishing you.”
Her gaze skittered away. “Maybe.”
“Because of one kiss?” he asked, his tone skeptical.
“It seems they knew me well enough to know what that kiss signified.” She jerked her gaze back to his face, hoping he could see just how angry he made her. “They knew I’d decided to put my trust in you, despite their warnings and threats. And it took all but a few hours for you to go running off with Danna, proving just how stupid I’d been to believe in you!”
“So they make you accept those ridiculous challenges, risking your life.” She watched him work to master his emotions. After a moment, he quietly said, “That’s some punishment, Jillian. I’m surprised you just lie down and take it, or are you still terrified of disappointing them?”
“I have no choice in the matter. Whenever I try to refuse, they consider it a show of weakness.” She sighed, still rankled over the League’s insistence that she meet the challenges. “And we can’t have any weak links in the chain of power, Jeremy.”
“God forbid you actually stand up to them,” he said with soft menace.
Her chin lifted a notch higher. “Unlike you, I have respect for the League.”
He brushed that frustrating topic to the side with the sweep of his hand, and chose another argument. “Why do you suppose no one ever told me you were fighting? I can understand the pack’s silence, since I avoid them like the plague and they probably wouldn’t waste their breath talking to me, but what about Dylan? What about my parents?”
Jillian shook her head, wondering why he didn’t get it. “There’s no conspiracy, Jeremy. Your parents have spent so much time away, I doubt they even know. And like I said, Dylan probably didn’t say anything because he knows you couldn’t care less about what happens to me.”
His jaw locked, and a cutting flash of frustration ripped across his rugged features, before quickly disappearing, as if he’d thrown the emotion into some mental vault and slammed the door. “This argument is going nowhere,” he rasped, looking away to stare up at the star-studded sky.
A moment of silence deepened between them as he gazed at the stars, his expression intent, as if looking for answers in their shimmering lights, and Jillian seized the opportunity to study him, to soak in all the breathtaking details that made her tremble with physical awareness. In the decade since he’d left Shadow Peak, he’d grown from someone with boyish charm and golden good looks, to a man who overshadowed everyone around him. He was that dynamic, his aura blinding and burning with intensity. A man who drew your eye and trapped it, with that blond, sun-bleached hair, dark golden skin and those smoky hazel eyes, his body battle-hardened and beautiful, the chiseled features of his face too masculine to be called anything but rugged. She even loved the strong column of his throat, with its fading scars, and the blond stubble on his cheeks and chin.
“We should have hashed this out between us before I came back, Jillian.”
The deep, provocative timbre of his voice hit her as heavily as the breathtaking power of his scent, making her burn from the inside out, as if she’d swallowed a smoldering ball of fire that now glowed in her belly, shooting like incandescent sparks through her fingers and her toes. Lighting her up. Turning her on.
She swallowed, struggling for her voice. “And just when were we supposed to do that?” she asked, mentally wincing at the husky sound of lust rounding out the edges of her speech.
His gaze lowered, those enigmatic eyes going dark, filled with thickening shadows. “We could have done it at the reception.”
Jillian knew he was referring to his partner’s wedding, which had taken place just days before—and where his return to the pack had first been announced. They’d spent the entire night avoiding one another, though she’d snuck glances at him as often as possible, unable to help herself. And it still irritated her that no one in the League had thought to inform her of what was coming that night, leaving her to learn of his return in a crowd of people, all of whom had watched her with avid interest when the news was announced. “Yeah, that would have been swell, but I really thought I’d had enough good news that day,” she replied with a small, tight laugh, terrified at the knowledge that every moment she spent with him was breaking her down, weakening her resolve. He was like Kryptonite to her Superman, that one fatal weakness that could change her life forever by systemically stripping her defenses.
“Jillian…” he sighed, sounding as if she was trying his patience “…whether we want it or not, I’m back. I’m here and we have to face the facts.”
“Somehow,” she muttered, “I don’t think my facts are the same as yours.”
He shook his head as he studied her. “You know, you always were stubborn, but I don’t remember you enjoying a fight this much before.”
“I don’t want to fight you, Jeremy.” She lifted one shoulder and blew a wisp of hair out of her eyes—casual gestures meant to disguise the dizzying confusion going on inside of her. “I just want you to leave me alone.”
“Won’t happen. Not today. And not tomorrow. I’ve come to a decision tonight, little witch. One that’s been a helluva long time coming.” His eyes went hotter, the sexy, smoky green swirling with a primitive violence and hunger that made heat crawl its way up her spine, melting over her skin like liquid fire, leaving her seething in a need too sharp to contain. Any moment now, the dam would burst—and god help her when it did. “I mean to have you, Jillian.”
Her eyes went wide. “Wow. Just like that? Jeremy says he wants me and poof, I’m his?” she drawled, desperately clinging to an illusion of indifference. “I hate to rain on the parade here, but I just don’t feel the same way anymore.”
“Like hell you don’t.” He laughed, daring to flash her an arrogant, predatory smile. She had the feeling he could see right through her, as if by looking into her eyes, he could see into her very soul and the dangerous truths that she’d buried there. “You’re lying, and we both know it.”
“And you read minds now?” She snorted, hoping he didn’t know how he affected her, but it was a stupid wish. All he had to do was breathe, and he could tell just how hungry she was for him.
He arched one tawny brow. “I don’t have to read your mind,” he said lightly. “Not when I can scent your body.”
Jillian opened her mouth, but nothing came out, as if the denial had simply dissolved on her tongue.
“Kinda intimate, isn’t it?” he whispered, the words silky, seductive, scratchy and a little raw. “Knowing that I can smell the need, the hunger, growing in you. That it affects me more strongly than any other male, whether he’s human or as bloody purebred Lycan as they come. That you were made for me. That you’re mine.”
Jillian took another step backward, ready to flee, even though she knew she couldn’t outrun him. “I was never yours,” she argued, breathless as she swallowed the lump of panic caught in her throat. “Thankfully I got smart and opened my eyes to what you really are before it was too late.”
“You didn’t open your eyes to jack,” he shot back in a soft growl. “And you sure didn’t trust me.”
“With good reason!”
“You gave up your future, your destiny, for a title,” he sneered, his contempt for the pack and what it stood for evident in his tone. “You jumped on the first excuse you could find to get rid of me, because deep down inside, you were terrified of having to choose between a life with