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"How long do you expect me to wait?"

"However long she needs."

"And if the rest of the fortnight passes and she decides to leave for the States before accepting me? What then? I can't let that happen."

"It won't come to that. I promise you. It may take a few days, but I'm sure it won't take the rest of Kamryn's holiday."

Algar pulled out of Lexi's hold and stepped back. He took deep, calming breaths to get himself under control and waited for his eyes to change back and his claws to recede. "I hope you're right, because it'll probably kill me to be apart from her."

* * *

One Week Later

Kamryn listlessly turned her head and stared at the digital alarm clock sitting on the small bedside table. Almost eleven in the morning and she'd yet to get out of bed.

Not that she had much to do that required her to get up early. Since Algar's confession, she'd holed up in her hotel room and had done nothing but watch TV, order room service, and sleep. All her plans to do some sightseeing had flown out the window. She couldn't shake the feeling that if she left the safety of her hotel room, Algar would be waiting to pounce on her as soon as she stepped outside. Not that she really thought he would. In the week since she'd last seen him, he'd not once tried to contact her. No phone calls, no messages left at the front desk.

At first, she was happy with the lack of contact, but as the days started to pass and her fear of what Algar was faded enough for her to think without it clouding her thoughts, his silence hurt. For someone who had claimed she was his mate, he was doing a fine job of keeping her away.

Kamryn snorted. She was being an idiot. It wasn't as if she wanted to be a mate to a werewolf. She needed to stay away from Algar. No matter how much she'd stupidly started to miss him. He was an animal, a freak of nature, as she'd called him.

But thinking about that got her remembering the hurt look on his face when she'd said it. God, she was losing her mind.

She rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom. Unable to stop herself, she opened her pajama top, shrugged out of the right sleeve, and turned so she could look at her back in the mirror. A blackish bruise-looking mark, about the size of her hand, on the back of her right shoulder showed in her reflection. It had appeared two days after the incident at Algar's manor. When she'd first found it, Kamryn had started to shake so badly she'd had to lie down on the bed. Now, she had mixed emotions about the mark.

It made her long to be with the man she'd shared her body with and had enjoyed immensely. It also made her gut clench every time she saw it, knowing it meant she was truly Algar's mate.

Turning away from her reflection, Kamryn stripped out of her pajamas and stepped into the shower. The hot water helped clear away the last of her lethargy, but did nothing to improve her whirlwind emotions. Finished, she dried her hair and body before she wrapped the towel around herself. She didn't bother to wipe the steam off the mirror when she brushed her teeth. She had no interest in looking at herself.

Back in the room, she pulled a comb through her damp hair and then dressed in a pair of blue jeans and a pink yoga top. Kamryn had just reached for the television's remote when a loud knock sounded on her door. Her hand froze in mid-air and her heart beat wildly. What if it was Algar?

Slowly, she lowered her hand to her side. If she was truthful with herself, she would admit that her heart's quickened pace wasn't caused completely by the fear that Algar may be on the other side of the door. No, it had a lot to do with remembering how it felt to have him touch her, kiss her, and have his cock moving in and out of her.

Hard to forget how good they had been together, when she dreamed about it night after night.

The knock came again, louder this time, followed by a deep male voice that wasn't Algar's. "Kamryn, open the door."

Curious as to whom it could be since the voice was definitely British, she crossed the room and looked through the peephole in the door. She sucked in a breath when she saw Brand on the other side, which she thought was strange since she'd barely met him.

"I know you're at the door. I can smell you. I just want to talk."

Considering Lexi had said Brand was a man of very little words, Kamryn would have thought talking to her would be the last thing he'd want to do. "We have nothing to talk about," she said through the door.

"Yes, we do. Open the door. Please."

Looking through the peephole again, she saw the determined look on Brand's face. It didn't take a genius to guess he wouldn't leave until she'd done as he'd asked.

All she needed was for him to make a scene or something. With a hand that shook only a little, she turned the lock and opened the door.

Lifting her chin, mostly in a show of bravado she hardly felt but also because she craned her neck to look at Brand in the face, she said, "I opened the door. What do you want?"

In answer, he pushed past her—as if she would have been able to stop a man his size—and moved to stand in the middle of the room. He turned to face her. She let the door shut and crossed her arms over her chest while she gave him a hard stare. It didn't seem to faze him.

"I want you."

She blinked. Surely, he didn't mean it the way she was thinking? "I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me. I want you. I'm going to take you back to the manor and you're going to put Algar out of his misery."

At the mention of Algar's name, she barely managed to stop herself from asking about him. Instead, she said, "No."

He frowned. "That wasn't a request."

"I don't have to take orders from you." Kamryn watched Brand tense, realizing she was refusing a man who was not only twice her size, but also a werewolf. "You can't order me around."

He cocked his brow as if to say, 'who do you think you're kidding' . "This has gone on long enough. You're Algar's mate."

Kamryn crossed her arms tighter around her. "No, I'm not. And there isn't any proof that I am." The last part rushed out of her mouth.

Brand narrowed his eyes. "Then show me."

"What?" She took a step away.

"Show me your back."

"I don't have to show you anything."

Moving faster than she'd ever seen a man move before, Brand grabbed her and spun her around. "I'm hearing too many don'ts. The time for me to be polite is over." He took hold of the back collar of her shirt and pulled it away. He then snorted. "I thought so."

She let out a squawk when Brand picked her up with her back held to his chest and started to walk toward the door. Kamryn smacked the arm anchored around her waist. "Put me down."

"No. The mark is starting. You belong with Algar."

In hopes to stall him, she said quickly, "The keycard and my purse."

Brand spun around and walked over to the small table where both those items set. Once he had her out the door there would be no escaping him. So she lowered her head and then snapped it back, hitting him right on the chin. Brand didn't as much as stumble. It probably hurt her head more than it had hurt him.

He put her down on her feet, and holding her by her upper arms, he turned her and bent so his eyes were level with hers. "Enough, Kamryn. Algar needs you. You need him. He's a werewolf. Get over it. Algar has waited for you for over a thousand years. If only I was half as lucky to find my mate."

Brand didn't give her a chance to say anything before he scooped up her purse and the keycard. Silently, he led her by her upper arm out of the room and down to the lobby. He kept her moving until he reached the parking lot and deposited her into the passenger side of a silver Lexus.