Chapter 6 — The Mark Beneath The Surface

• ~ LYRA ~
• As I stand in Ronan's doorway, taking in his home, memories of that night filter through me as I involuntarily recall how I’d sucked and licked Ronan, wanting more of his taste in my mouth and anxious to feel him surrender to his desire for me. He hadn’t given me enough reaction—not nearly enough. He’d groaned in pleasure but stayed still, as if trying to allow me to take my time and explore. And just before the dream had ended, he’d whispered that he’d return the favour. Even now, the thought of it has me aching all over again.
• I’d woken up writhing, damp with sweat and need, so close to release I could almost taste it. His teeth had been at my skin when my eyes snapped open. And that was the last dream I’d had of him. Ever since, I’ve gone to bed each night, hoping for a repeat. Instead, I wake up horny and frustrated.
• Now he’s here—walking, breathing, and very much real.
• I jerk out of my fantasy as Ronan sweeps past me into his home. I can’t help but admire his form as he strides by the living room and vanishes around the corner. The place belongs to a man. The flooring is dark wood, with rugs throughout, and the furniture is made of black leather. A large plasma television is mounted on the far wall, and enormous speakers are bolted on each side of the room.
• He reappears with beer bottles in each hand, and I take the one he extends to me, trying to get my hormones under control. He said he’d give me answers and explain what’s taking place. For some strange reason, I do trust him. Who am I kidding? A part of me recognizes him, even if it makes no sense whatsoever. Everything that’s transpired between us has been real.
• They were dreams but weren’t.
• How in the hell is that even possible? Gosh!
• He lifts the beer to his lips, and I quickly do the same. The tang of the beverage hits my tongue, the flavour strong and somewhat bitter. I force the drink down and lower the bottle, staring at Ronan in disbelief. He doesn’t stop drinking, his throat constricting with each swallow until the bottle is empty. I gawk, unable to focus on anything but him. Another wave of heat rushes through me, making me lightheaded.
• “Keep looking at me like that, and I’m going to give you what I promised, Lyra.” He lowers his hand and growls, gold eyes sweeping over me. “I’m trying to be a gentleman, but you’re testing my control.”
• “I...” I try to think of something to say, realizing I’m alone with this muscular man inside his home. He could do anything he wants, and I wouldn’t be able to stop him. Not to mention he’s a werewolf.
• Not smart. Not smart at all.
• “I think the best way to go about this is to tell you straight.” He meets my gaze, then places his palm on my chin and tilts my head. Before I can stop him, he pushes my blouse off one shoulder and brushes back my hair, revealing the crescent shape behind my ear.
• “Correct me if I’m wrong. I think you wanted a tattoo right here. Over this mark.”
• Shit. How does he know that?
• “Maybe,” I teeter, scrambling for the right thing to say. “Maybe not.”
• His eyes narrow into slits as he growls, “Don’t lie to me.”
• “What if I did?” Trying to feign indifference is impossible. The space feels too small with him in front of me. “It’s just a birthmark.”
• “That’s where you’re wrong. It’s not just a birthmark. It’s the mark all wolves carry when they’re born. This means one of your parents is a wolf,” he announces and sweeps his thumb across the skin.
• I clench my teeth, trying not to groan. For the first time, the mark doesn’t burn. If anything, his touch alleviates the sting, making the damn thing hum. A shiver runs through me, electric tingles starting where he touches and sweeping down my body.
• “You don’t have one.” My eyes drift over his body. During my dreams, I never saw anything aside from tattoos on his magnificent form.
• “It’s here.” His fingers drift to the hair behind his ear, and he turns his head. A small crescent shape is revealed, just below his hairline.
• “This can’t be real.” My heart races, panic warring with desire. “There’s no way. I’d know if one of my parents could shift forms and howl at the moon.” I try to yank my hand away.
• “Of course, you would.”
• The amusement in his tone pisses me off. He might find the situation funny, but I certainly don’t. “Listen, Mr. Ego. I would know if—”
• “I thought you were from one of the packs in the area when we started dream-pairing,” he continues as though he doesn’t hear me. “If you were human, you wouldn’t have this. When I saw it, I assumed you knew what you are.” He caresses my mark, sending a flash of fire through the erogenous zones of my body. “There was no way to know you’re only half.”
• “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I press my thighs together, mortified when my sex starts to throb. I should be terrified, not ready to fuck like a rabbit. My nipples harden, the lace of my bra becoming restricting and painful. “And I am human.”
• “You’re half-human, and it’s not necessarily bad.” He lifts his head, his lips curving into a grin. “Just different. It changes the game a bit.”
• “I hate to break it to you.” I consider shaking him. Here I am, off-balance and agitated, and he’s referring to the situation as a game. “But this isn’t Monopoly. Not even close. Do not pass go. No two hundred dollars for you.”
• “Excuse me.” His wry grin should make me furious. Not horny. “Bad choice of wording.”
• “How about you tell me the truth?”
• “You’re going through your first moon heat,” he whispers, moving closer, the warmth from his body radiating like a furnace. “That’s why you found me. You knew your time was near. It’s instinctual.”
• Denying his explanation is my only defense, even though a part of me knows it’s a bald-faced lie. Something is occurring between us. No one has ever made me feel like this, turning everything I know upside down and inside out.
• “Maybe it’s instinctual for you, but it isn’t for me,” I argue. “I didn’t come to find you. I came to get a tattoo. The dreams... our meeting... it’s serendipity.”
• “Listen, sweetness.” He invades my space, pressing his much larger body against mine. “You can keep lying to yourself, but it won’t change what’s destined to happen. You came to me, you chose me.”
• He releases my hand and cups my chin in his palm, forcing me to meet his intense gaze. His touch is gentle, his closeness comforting. It’s hell not to squirm, to remain passive in his hold.
• “Did you come to MoonMark Ink for a tattoo? Or did you feel... drawn or compelled to come there? Better yet, have you been feeling like yourself lately? Have you noticed changes you can’t explain? And finally, Lyra. Tell me, is your family aware you are in Ashridge Hollow right now?”