The next thing I knew, Sinclair was prowling across the room, backing me toward the bed. He seemed barely human, barely in control of his wolf—but I understood now why he hadn't sought more comfort from me. I'd become so used to his sultry innuendos and dark promises that I'd forgotten how serious these matters truly were to wolves. But now I saw the truth. I'd pushed him, forced him to admit things he was trying to shield me from, then challenged his authority, demanding that he let me do my job.

My inner wolf was a veritable basket case. She was both excited and intimidated, thrilled and daunted, eager to please and utterly defiant about submitting to anyone—even Sinclair. For weeks, she'd been begging for Sinclair's mark, and now that the ridiculous creature was about to get it, she wanted to play hard to get.

The backs of my knees hit the bed, and Sinclair lifted me as though I weighed nothing, tossing me onto the plush comfort of my nest.

I scrambled onto my hands and knees, baring my teeth at the bossy wolf and emitting a soft growl. I didn't appreciate him messing up the safe cocoon I'd created for our pup, and though something deep inside me quivered with appreciation for his dominance, I didn't care for his high-handed behavior.

Sinclair unslung the towel wrapped around his waist, an ominous chuckle on his lips. "Such a fierce little mate," he observed, his eyes hooded with desire. "Have you already forgotten how desperate you've been to bear my mark?"

I narrowed my eyes as he crawled onto the bed, climbing over the pillows and blankets. He lashed out, catching my ankle, deftly sliding my legs out from under me and pulling me toward him onto the mattress. I yelped in surprise, but the next thing I knew, I was on my back with Sinclair looming over me, blissfully naked. My eyes scanned his chiseled form: from his glorious bronze skin, glistening in the low light, to his devilishly handsome face, and down to the huge, hard member between his legs.

Suddenly, I found myself stretching out so he could appreciate my curves, shifting and writhing against the silken sheets. It was as if the mere sight of this man had stolen my sanity, making me forget my resolve to make him work for his prize.

"There she is," Sinclair crooned, extending a single claw and dragging it down the front of my top, tearing the thin fabric without touching my delicate flesh. I gasped, feeling another flash of indignation even as heat pooled low in my belly. His claws eviscerated my sweatpants as well, and now I was naked before him.

His ravenous gaze traveled every inch of my exposed skin, his pupils dilating with unbridled lust. "I have to say, I know the feeling," he crooned. "It should be a crime to be so gorgeous."

His compliments made me preen and show off even more. I didn't understand why I was behaving this way, but my wolf was calling the shots. I rose to my knees, sliding my hands up his bare chest and nibbling his pectorals. I'd planned on kissing him once I reached his mouth, fantasized about dragging him down to the bed and making him forget his own name.

Then one of Sinclair's powerful fists grasped my hair, and he tilted my head back, holding me captive. His free hand trailed down to the curve of my belly, settling over our pup. "I'm not going to claim you, Ella," he rumbled sternly, a needy whine escaping my lips. Sinclair's lips grazed mine as he spoke, his eyes boring into mine, absorbing every ounce of my frustration and desire. "But I am going to take you up on your offer," he informed me huskily. "I'm going to take control, Ella. And if you test me, I will treat you exactly how I would treat any other naughty she-wolf," he proclaimed, softening his tone but not his hold. "I need you to promise you'll tell me if I cross a line."

"And if I said you already have?" I challenged, not meaning a word of it, but wanting to see how far I could push him.

"Then I'd remind you that I can smell your arousal," Sinclair purred, sliding the hand on my tummy between my legs. His thick fingers immediately sank into the wetness soaking my cleft, and I could barely restrain my moan of delight. "And your mischief," Sinclair added, knocking his nose against mine, "and your fear."

I snapped my teeth at him, feeling wilder and more fearless than I'd ever been. Sinclair only chuckled, removing his fingers from my aching sex—despite my outrage. "So that's the way it's going to be, hmm?"

"It wouldn't be true control if you didn't have to take it," my wolf answered in my head, apparently not quite ballsy enough to speak to Sinclair directly.

"Seriously?" I demanded. "You brazen little—"

"Hey, don't slut-shame me," she answered indignantly. "There's nothing wrong with knowing what you want and going after it."

"Excuse me, but do you actually know what you want?" I silently scoffed. "One moment you're provoking him and the next you're writhing around under him like a cat in heat."

"Hey, don't call me a cat—that's offensive," she sniped. "Besides, it's all part of the game, silly." I could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "You'll see. He needs this, and so do I."

"That's easy for you to say," I complained. "You're writing checks, but my ass is the one who has to cash them."

"Don't act like you were some shrinking violet before you found out about me," she accused. "You were getting yourself into trouble long before you knew your true nature."

Forcing myself back into the present, I realized Dominic had been watching the emotions flitting across my face, waiting for me to respond. Amusement was clear in his wolfish smirk, but he showed me no mercy. "What's the matter, baby? Your wolf giving you trouble?" His strong hands moved over my naked form, caressing me almost reverently, even as he taunted me.

This time, my wolf responded for me. "No, I've simply changed my mind," I replied with a sniff. "I don't want your mark anymore. I think I'll go out and try to find a different mate instead. One who's not afraid to claim what's his."

Horror flooded me as I realized what I'd just said, and suddenly Sinclair's hands were anything but reverent. He rotated his neck as if he were physically forcing down his instincts, and when he returned his gaze to me, he looked absolutely lethal. "Well, in that case, I'll just have to make sure you can't get away."

Sinclair pounced, and the next thing I knew, I was flat on my back on the bed. His mouth crashed into mine, and from then on, the only sounds I made were whimpers and moans. I knew this was just the beginning. I knew I'd pushed Sinclair so far that he was going to find some diabolically sexy way of punishing me, and Goddess help me, but I couldn't wait. I slid my arms and legs around him, holding his body to mine as he stole kiss after kiss. When my lips were swollen and red, he moved on, kissing, licking, and nipping his way over my jaw and down my neck.

I rocked my hips into his, thinking how incredibly easy it would be to slide myself onto his hardness. After all, there was nothing between our bodies anymore, and my slickness was already coating his thick shaft from all our grinding. I tried to lift my hips high enough to hook his tip inside me, but Sinclair realized what I was doing and clamped his hands around my hips, forcing them back down.

Sinclair shook his head, sounding amused but also as though he were barely clinging to his self-control. "Such a bad girl," he admonished, nuzzling the soft spot behind my ear. Sinclair's fangs grazed my sensitive earlobe, followed by the deep vibrations of his voice. "Tell me, sweet Ella. Has anyone ever tied you up?"

With those simple words, the entire world was wrenched from under me. I was no longer safe in my nest with Sinclair. I was twenty years and a hundred miles away, forced back into a past I never wanted to revisit.

I must have gone completely stiff in his arms, because Sinclair's steady weight lifted away from me, and his worried face appeared above me. "Sweetheart, what is it?" I pushed him away, sitting up and heaving in panicked breaths as blood rushed in my ears. The room around me had disappeared, replaced by the wretched halls of the orphanage. I was shaking from head to toe, and no matter what I did, I couldn't seem to get enough air.

"Fuck," Sinclair cursed under his breath, and I felt his strong arms wrapping around me. "Ella, it's okay. You're safe."

I clamped my eyes shut, trying to banish the sights and smells assaulting my mind, the memories I'd tried so hard to forget. Sinclair hesitantly shifted me into his lap, rocking me back and forth. He repeated the same words over and over again. "You're safe. I'm here."

It took some time, but eventually I believed him. I came hurtling back down to earth at the speed of a meteor, crashing into a crater of despair. Still, Sinclair didn't stop telling me that I was safe and that he loved me. I clung to him like a liferaft, praying that this solace would never cease, but knowing it must. There was no avoiding it now. When I was calm enough, I was going to have to explain—and that was the very last thing I wanted to do.