Free Till Abandon by Avril Ashton Page A

takeover of Blake's territory by ambushing members of his pack.
    A rustle to the left caught the wolf's ear. A rabbit. The tiny creature froze, focused on his sound, and scented the air. The wolf opened his jaws in what could very well be considered a grin and waited. It wasn't long before the little furry creature dashed out from its hiding place and the wolf pounced, powerful jaws catching the rabbit by the neck, sharp canines tearing flesh.
    The wolf sat on its haunches and devoured the rabbit, though it remained on alert for any movement or disturbance. Inside the animal, Blake savoured the taste and thrill of the hunt, and tried not to think about his mate, waiting for him back at the bar.
    Would Voltaire be waiting? And had he made the right move, walking away from her? He'd been so hurt that she'd lied to him, sought to keep information from him. But most damning was this bond she had with Czion, his enemy, the man gunning for Blake's territory. Those two had a history and Blake just knew he wouldn't like the details.
    He'd never thought Voltaire would lie to him and, now that he'd calmed down, had a little rabbit to munch on, he wondered if he'd been hasty. She'd said someone had messed with Aimee's mind, got her riled enough to confront Blake and Voltaire in the hopes Voltaire would kill her, but what would that accomplish? Was he then supposed to turn on his mate for killing one of his pack?
    She'd claimed she'd followed the killer's psychic trail and it wasn't Czion. Why had he doubted her? Voltaire was the one familiar with those things, and if she said no, it should be no—right? So why the hell had he walked away? He'd been blinded by fury as she'd tried to explain why she'd lied to him, sent him away so she could communicate with a man who was essentially his sworn enemy, and he'd reacted accordingly.
    The wolf finished with dinner and flicked its tongue out to wipe the blood off his muzzle. A breeze rustled the low-hanging trees nearby and he caught the scent of lilacs before her magic wrapped around him like a soft, down blanket. She stepped into the wolf's line of vision.
    Blake stood on all fours, ready to shift back, but Voltaire dropped to her knees before him and wrapped her arms around the wolf's neck.
    "Finally I get to see you like this. I've missed you in my dreams,” she murmured to the wolf. She tightened her fingers in his fur and silver tears slid down her cheeks. The wolf whined and licked them off—he didn't like the heavy aura of sadness clinging to his mate.
    "I messed up,” she confessed. “You wanted me to be his other half, his mate, but in trying to protect him, I hurt him.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I love him and he might never forgive me."
    The salt of her tears melted on his tongue and Blake shifted.
    He wrapped his naked arms around her and pulled her to him. “Voltaire."
    She trembled, her soft body pliant. “I'm sorry."
    He loosened his hold on her and tilted his head to look at her. “Why are you sorry?"
    "I hurt you.” Wet lashes clumped together as she blinked, those gorgeously weird eyes glistening.
    "And did you purposely set out to do so?"
    She frowned. “You know I didn't.” Confusion swam in her eyes. “I would never want to cause you pain, intentional or otherwise. You have to know that."
    "I do know that.” Blake cupped her cheek, brushed his thumb over the smooth, pale skin. “Anger blinded me, but I know it and that's why I forgive you.” He brought his lips to hers, kissing her softly. “Because, Death Bringer, I love you."
    * * * *
    A sob caught in Voltaire's throat and she mashed their lips together, bruising. Blake's tight grip on her hair said he loved it. Those strong hands left her hair and travelled down her nape to her back, pulling at her clothes while his hard cock pressed against her thigh.
    She kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth, and he sucked on it with hard pulls that echoed in her pussy. Voltaire gripped his shoulders,