Drake thrashed restlessly. She could tell by the angle of the light streaming through the window that she’d slept most of the day. Far overhead, a plane engine droned. Much closer, she discerned muffled conversations and a riot of overlapping bird songs. She smelled fox, rabbit, deer. She sensed other presences in the building but had no feeling of danger.
Taking stock of her body, she was immediately aware of three urgent needs—she needed a bathroom and a shower; she was very, very hungry; and she wanted sex. She glimpsed a bathroom through a partially open door on the far side of her room and decided to take care of the simplest problem first.
Walking around for the first time in almost twenty-four hours, she expected to feel ill, but she didn’t. She felt—strong. Alert. Excited. The bite on her arm from the girl in the ER was gone.
She used the bathroom and started the shower. The hot water brought a flush to her skin, and when she rubbed her hand over her torso, her nipples twinged and her loins throbbed. She didn’t have to touch herself to know she was tense and aroused. She could feel the insistent pulse that matched the beat of her racing heart. She rubbed both palms up and down her abdomen and thought of Sylvan’s arms around her, the heat of Sylvan’s hard belly against her back, the curve of Sylvan’s pelvis cradling her ass. She remembered the heat of Sylvan’s mouth on the back of her neck and her clitoris jumped. She squeezed her hand between her legs. She was wet and hard. Ready.
A week ago if she’d felt like this she would have masturbated, but she found she didn’t want to now. She wanted more than an orgasm.
She wanted…she wasn’t sure what she wanted. She craved warm, sleek flesh under her hands, against her tongue. She hungered for the scent of burnt leaves and cinnamon. She envisioned straddling Sylvan’s hard stomach and painting her skin with her sex, marking her. Drake’s canines erupted, short claws burst from her fingertips, and a trail of fire burned down the center of her abdomen. She flashed on the image of Sylvan snarling in her face and the taste of Sylvan in her mouth. Her glands swelled. Her sex pounded. She was burning up. She had to get out of the shower. She had to get outside. She had to run. To fight, to take. Groaning, Drake stumbled back into the room and collapsed onto the bed. She couldn’t go outside. She was afraid of what she might do. Covering her eyes with her arm, she gripped her sex in her fist and squeezed, trying to force the pressure to relent. Through the roaring in her ears, she heard the door open and quickly held out her arm.
“No, don’t come in here.”
“It’s okay,” a strong, clear voice answered. “You won’t want me.”
Drake turned her head. Misha stood inside the door. “I don’t think you should be in here.”
“It’s safe.” Misha grinned. “I could tell from outside the door you’re dominant. Too close to me to be interested, probably.”
“How about too old to be interested,” Drake said through clenched teeth.Misha frowned. “You’re not much older than I am. I’ve tangled plenty with Weres older than you.”
“You have?” Drake stared at the dark-haired teenager with the luminous, mahogany eyes, thankful the teen was dressed in jeans and a barely there T-shirt. She would not have wanted to have this conversation with both of them nude. She casually pulled the sheet over her body, relieved to find that the very act of talking helped her get a handle on her rioting system. She was even happier to realize she didn’t have the slightest desire to jump on Misha.
“Sure. We live a long time, remember? A couple of decades is nothing for us.”
“I’m not sure I can get used to that,” Drake muttered. “I’m Drake, by the way.”
“I know,” Misha said. “Elena said you were in the ER when the Alpha came to get me. I don’t remember. I’m sorry.”
“No problem. How are you feeling?”
“Okay.” She turned her back and pulled up her T-shirt to show Drake. Her back was smooth and unblemished. No trace of a scar. “All healed. Thanks for helping me.”
“You’re welcome, but I didn’t do anything,” Drake said. “I’m really glad you’re all right.”
Misha plopped down on the end of Drake’s bed and propped her chin on her fist, studying Drake unabashedly. Drake moved in the opposite direction.
“You want to tangle, I bet,” Misha observed.
“I…uh…how old are you?”
“Eighteen next month.” Misha twisted around and put her back against the wall, tossing her leg casually over Drake’s calf where it rested beneath the sheet. “I remember when I first had the frenzy. It was really really bad. I couldn’t think about anything except sex. Everyone thinks it’s so easy being dominant, because there’s usually someone around who wants to tangle.” Misha made a face. “It’s not so much fun when no matter what you do, you can’t get it to stop.”
Drake closed her eyes. “I don’t think we should be having this conversation.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know what I’m doing.” Drake pushed herself up on her elbows and met Misha’s eyes. “Maybe you ought to be a little more afraid of me.”
“Maybe you should be afraid of me. ” Misha narrowed her eyes and made a low rumbling sound in her chest.
“Don’t,” Drake warned at Misha’s challenge, her voice dropping.
Misha held Drake’s gaze for a few more seconds, then shivered and looked away. “Wow. That was intense.” She cut Drake a quick look. “I was wrong. You’re way more dominant than me, and the Alpha says I could be a centuri someday.” She rolled her eyes. “If I make it through sentrie training without screwing up again.”
“What happened in the park wasn’t your fault.”
“I left the Compound,” Misha said softly, running the sheet through her fingers. “That was dumb. Then I let that asshole get behind me. Getting stabbed serves me right.”
“You’ll know better next time,” Drake said.
“Damn right.” Misha regarded Drake with a sidelong glance, careful not to engage eye contact. “You know, I don’t get a chance to tangle with too many Weres who are more dominant than me. You might like tangling with a dominant.”
“Thanks, but I don’t think so,” Drake said.
“I’m not interested in mating or anything,” Misha said matter-of-factly. “I mean, if you want a submissive mate, that’s cool. But you wouldn’t have to worry about it with me.”
“I don’t want to…tangle…with anyone right now. Is there any chance I can get some food?”
“You sure? Because your call is really strong.” Misha slid her leg a little higher on Drake’s. “And I’m really feeling ready.”
“Just food.” Drake jumped out of bed, preferring being naked to the continued physical contact. Misha was only doing what was natural, but Drake had no idea what was natural for her any longer. “And some clothes.”
Misha shrugged nonchalantly, apparently unconcerned by the rejection, and sat forward on the edge of the bed. “The Alpha lets us hunt as long as we don’t go alone. Can you shift at will yet? I can, if I concentrate.”
“I can’t remember shifting.” Drake frowned. “Maybe I can’t.” The thought of not being able to shift bothered her. If she was a Were now, she wanted to be whole. She gasped as sudden pain raked through her entrails. “God, what is that? It won’t let up.”
“Your wolf wants out,” Misha said.
“How can you tell?” Drake barely managed to get the words out around the choking pain. She leaned against the wall, not certain she’d be able to stay standing much longer.