Traded (Blood Ties Book 5)

“Vivienne…stop!” Carven grabbed my hands and pulled them from the tangled mess of my hair. “You’re going to make yourself fucking bald.”

Strands pulled and snapped as I fought him. He snarled as he unfurled my fingers and pulled my hair free. But I couldn’t just stand there and wait, I had to do something. Because I was going insane.

I pulled my hands from his and turned to pace the length of the study, my gaze flashing to the empty doorway. “He should be here by now. He should be back.”

Back and forth. Back and forth…back and forth. I waited for the click of the lock…and the heavy thud of their steps. My eyes stung and my vision was grainy as I fixed on that empty doorway, until I hated the fucking sight of it.

Agony carved open my chest and hacked out my heart.

It was somewhere out there.

Somewhere, clutched in London’s controlling grip.

Cradled in Colt’s chest.

Leaving a hollowness inside me.

“Where are they?” I turned and found that unflinching, icy stare. “Where the fuck are they, Carven?”

Beep.

He yanked up his phone and stared at the screen.

“What?” I stumbled forward. “What is it?”

“They found him,” he muttered. “They found Colt.”

A trapped breath escaped me as my shoulders curled. “Thank God. Thank God!”

I staggered and reached out, desperate to grab something as the study seemed to sway…only something caught me.

Carven lashed out and grasped my hand, his focus still fixed on the screen as he typed, before he lowered the phone…and turned to me. “They’re safe. They’re both safe, Wildcat. You’re okay now. You’re okay.”

He pulled me close, the…cold, cruel hunter dragged me against his chest as he rose. His hands were awkward when he gripped my shoulders tightly, as though he didn’t know what to do…and yet he wanted to do something. I knew his words weren’t just for me, they were for him, too.

My throat thickened. His grip clenched as a tear slipped down my cheek. The movement was so fast, I barely saw it as he flicked the drop away with a slide of his thumb, then stared at it shimmering against his nail.

Then he slid it into his mouth and turned that chilling stare my way.

My breaths froze, then in the silence I heard the faint thud of a car door.

Carven’s gaze moved to the door. He dropped his hands and stepped around me as the snap of the lock sounded. Heavy steps followed. I’d know that gait anywhere.

“London,” I cried as I spun and lunged for the doorway.

I was out of the study in a blur. My heart drove against my chest as I gripped the doorway. His white shirt was open, sleeves rolled high. There was a look of utter exhaustion as I rushed toward him, making him seem older, colder…and desperate.

But he wasn’t too exhausted to catch me as I lunged.

His arms were around me in an instant, sliding up my back as he clasped me hard against him. A huge exhale and he murmured, “Fuck, I missed you.”

I clung to him as I buried my face against his neck. His rich scent invaded me in an instant. I sucked in deep breaths, desperate to fill that empty void inside me once more. “I was so fucking scared,” I croaked. “So fucking scared.”

His strong arms tightened. But underneath the desperation there was a taut, trembling rage. The sound of an engine came as it drew closer to the house. Carven turned at the sound and listened to the rumble of the engine as it pulled to a stop.

The heavy thud of car doors came, followed by the sound of the vehicle pulling away. I stepped back from London and turned my head at the faint sound of the lock of the front door. Heavy steps echoed, mirroring the boom of my heart. From around the corner came Colt, looking horrific.

There was dried blood on his face. His clothes were a mess, crumpled, torn, and dirty. But it was his eyes that gripped me. They were fixed, empty, not like the eyes of the man I knew at all. He looked at the floor as he came closer, his hands shoved into his pockets.

Carven and London didn’t say a word. They didn’t go to him, didn’t move at all. But I wasn’t so contained. I strode forward, then lunged to wrap my arms around his neck. He grabbed me and pulled me close. I could feel the tension in his body and the discord in his soul. I could feel the sheer weight he carried…the only question was, why?

His arm dropped from around me as he stepped close to the others and dragged his other hand out of his pocket, then reached out to London. Nothing was said as Colt placed the small chip in his hand. London looked down, then clenched his fist around the thing.

London scowled and lifted his gaze to Colt’s. But Colt turned around and walked away. I stared, feeling that same emptiness as though he was still gone.

He wasn’t here, not really. Somehow, I’d lost him, just when I thought I’d found them all. I took a step forward before my arm was grabbed.

“Don’t, let him go,” Carven growled.

Only this time, I wasn’t following orders. I yanked my arm from his hold. “Don’t tell me what to do,” I snarled, and surged forward.

Tonight was too raw.

Too bloodthirsty.

I’d almost lost more than one of them.

I wasn’t going to take another chance. Not for all the safety in the world.

I pushed into a run and caught up to him as he hit the entrance to our wing.

“Wait!” I called and grabbed his arm as he kept walking. “Colt…stop.”

He did, then just stood there, facing away from me. The side of his head was a dried, bloody mess.

My heart was in my throat. “What have I done?”

His eyes tightened and there was a tiny shake of his head. It was all he was giving me.

“Then why are you pushing me away?” I whispered, running my hand along his powerful arm. “I need you.”

He flinched at those words and turned instantly to grab me and yank me close.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and rose to pull his mouth to mine. “I need you, don’t you get that? You can’t leave me, you can’t ever leave me.”

He kissed me, turning me around to drive me back against the wall. He was hungry, so fucking hungry. His big hand slid around the back of my neck and held me in place. My lips were crushed against my teeth, but I didn’t care. I pulled him harder against me, desperate for more. Until he broke away, scowled, then drove his hand out to brace against the wall as he swayed.

“That’s it.” I pushed forward and grabbed him around the waist. “Into my bathroom, now.”

I expected him to fight me. One look into those blue eyes and I saw the spark of defiance. But he didn’t argue. He let me wrap my arm around his waist, steadying him as I walked him to my room. I threw the door open and it hit the wall with a bang while I helped him into the bathroom. Under the white light of the bathroom, his head looked even worse.

“Sit,” I commanded as I eased him toward the toilet.

He let out a snarl, then opened his mouth to speak. I cut him off with a glare, and he slowly closed his mouth once more. “That’s what I thought.”

I gave a jerk of my head, and the dangerous son slowly sank down.

“Good boy,” I murmured, and earned a glare.

One I ignored as I set to work to see what damage there was to my pain-in-the-ass, stubborn-to-an-infuriating-level lover. He didn’t wince when I parted those thick brown curls, didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned forward and pressed his forehead against my belly.

“I can’t see a damn thing with this mess,” I grumbled as I tried to find the wound under all the blood. “You need to shower so I can see better.”

He lifted his head, grabbed his shirt, and pulled it off. The firm muscles of his chest flexed and the light hit the thick, crisscrossed silver scars. On anyone else they’d be gruesome. But on him…they were beautiful. Even beaten and bloody, this man was mesmerizing. He rose to tower over me. Those intense eyes nailed me to the spot as he reached down, unbuckled his jeans, and pushed them low.

My bloody, silent protector was breathtakingly naked in an instant.

And for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

I swallowed hard and fought the urge to look down as I realized I was staring like an idiot. “We’d better…we’d better get you in the shower.”

He just stood there. “You’re going to need to move for that.”

“Oh?” I looked down, to see I was standing in his way. “Yeah, of course.”

I stepped backwards, then instantly regretted it. Because the view from the back was just as spectacular as the one from the front. His thick shoulders flexed as he opened the shower door and stepped in. I traced his body down to his tight ass and powerful thighs. He was scraped and bruised almost all the way. On instinct, I grabbed my shirt and tugged it over my head, kicked off my shoes, then shoved my pants off.

I joined him in my underwear. This wasn’t about sex, although, Christ, it was hard to focus as he turned around and tilted his head back. There was something insanely erotic about watching the tendons of his throat flex, something that made my pulse race. He was exposed to me, like a powerful predator giving in to his mate.

There were no walls here.

No pretense…

Not at this moment.

I stepped forward and slid my hand along his arm. “Let me wash you.”

Water ran down his chest in rivulets as he lowered his head and looked at me.

“If you want me to, that is?”

A careful nod and I bent, grabbed the washcloth, squeezed it in the palm of my hand, and massaged his head carefully. I found the gash. It was small…but gushed like a torrent the moment the water washed away the partially formed scab.

If I hurt him, he didn’t say.

Nor did he flinch.

But he inhaled deeply when I ran my hands over his hard pecs and his eyes glinted when they moved lower.

“I’m not injured there, Wildcat.”

I stopped, very aware I might trigger him. “Do you want me to stop? I can.”

He reached out, grabbed my wrist, and pressed my hand against his hard cock. “You stop now and we’re going to have a problem. You feel me?”

I smiled instantly. “Yeah.” I curled my hand around his thickness. “I do.”

He forced a smile, even if it was haunted. “Good, because tonight I’m sleeping in your bed.”