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Chapter 6 - The Marks On Your Neck

Jarek's POV

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My knuckles turned white as I rapped on the guest room door.

Three firm taps. Polite enough not to seem aggressive, but deliberate enough to ensure I'd be heard.

I adjusted my cuffs, smoothing my expression into something resembling concern--the perfect picture of a caring older brother checking on his sister's friend.

Not the man who had spent nights imagining her beneath him, writhing and begging.

The door swung open.

And there she stood, wrapped in white silk that clung to every curve, so tight it looked ready to tear. All the blood in my body rushed south in an instant.

Fuck.

Brielle had no idea what she'd done--giving this girl a nightgown that looked innocent on her but was nothing short of a sin on Lilith.

The fabric strained over full breasts, the peaks of her nipples pressing visibly against the thin material. I could almost feel them between my teeth, the way they'd harden if I--

"Jarek?"

Her voice snapped me back.

I forced my gaze upward, only to freeze at the sight of her neck.

Pink marks. Bruises. And--my pupils dilated--bite marks.

Not just any love bites.

Wolf marks.

The kind left by canines breaking skin. A claim.

Someone had gotten to her before me.

My fangs lengthened on instinct, sharp and aching. I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, the metallic tang of blood flooding my tongue.

Who?

Which one of the Blackthorn bastards had touched her?

She crossed her arms--stupid, stupid girl--pushing her tits together, the valley between them deepening. My cock throbbed.

She had no idea what she looked like right now. No idea how badly I wanted to ruin her.

"Jarek?" she repeated, lashes fluttering.

I should answer.

Should smile.

But all I could think about was pinning her against the wall, dragging my teeth over that marked skin until my scent drowned out whoever had dared to claim her first.

***

Lilith's POV

Jarek's eyes darkened, his scent shifting into something predatory.

I wanted to slam the door. To run. To scream.

But fear locked me in place--if I panicked, he'd pounce. So I stayed still, forcing calm into my voice.

"Is the room to your liking?"

The polite question barely left his lips before he stepped inside, crossing the threshold like he owned it.

I stumbled back, my spine hitting the wardrobe behind me, the wood biting into my skin through the thin silk.

"It's fine," I managed, voice brittle.

Jarek sank into the armchair, fingers drumming lazily against the armrest.

Moonlight cut across his face, half in shadow, half in pale glow.

His icy blue eyes gleamed--unnaturally bright.

Like Kieran's.

The realization twisted my stomach.

Same predator's gaze. Same calculated stillness.

But at least Kieran didn't pretend to be anything but a wolf.

Jarek? He was still playing human, even now.

"We should talk," he said, lips curving.

"About what?" I hugged myself tighter, making myself small.

His fingers brushed the back of my neck.

I jerked away, my hip slamming into the desk behind me. Pain flared, tears pricking my eyes--but worse was the way his gaze lit up at the sight of me hurting.

"About the marks on your neck."

The words were a knife to my ribs.

"It's just...a bug bite," I lied.

His laugh was low, dangerous. "You really think I'd believe that?"

Then his hand snapped out, gripping my wrist, and the world spun as he yanked me into his lap.

I went rigid.

Too close.

Too fucking close.

I could feel the hard muscle of his thighs, the heat of him--and the unmistakable press of his erection against my hip.

"Ah--!"

His thumb dug into the bite on my collarbone, pain sparking sharp and bright. I gasped as his fingers traced my jaw, tilting my face up to his.

His eyes weren't blue anymore.

They were wolf eyes.

"What kind of bug leaves a wolf's teeth marks, little one?" His breath was hot against my cheek.

Shame burned through me, but worse was the traitorous heat pooling low in my stomach.

My skin prickled where he touched me, my body reacting for me, even as my mind screamed to run.

"An Alpha did this," he murmured. "Let me guess...Kieran?"

I turned my face away, but his hand fisted in my hair, forcing me back. The silver chain around my neck burned, but not as much as the hand sliding up my thigh beneath the silk.

"Jarek--" My voice shook. "Let me go."

"Not yet." His thumb brushed my lower lip, rough and possessive. "You haven't answered me."

Tears welled, but I nodded.

Not just from humiliation.

From the way my body ached for him--the way the wolf inside me, still half-asleep, stirred in answer to his nearness.

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