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"No," she said, her voice cracking from the weight of her fear and guilt. "That's not what I wanted to tell you." Uncertain of her reception, she approached him slowly, like she would any wounded animal. She placed her hand over the one he had balled into a fist. "I'm sorry, Fury. You gave me your friendship and loyalty, and when I should have treasured it, I turned on you. I have no excuse for it. I could say I was afraid, but I shouldn't have been afraid of you."

Fury stared at her hand on his. All his life he'd been re­jected. After he'd left his mother's patria, he hadn't reached out to anyone for fear of being hurt again. Because of his untrained powers, he'd always felt awkward around every­one.

The only person who'd ever made him feel like the man he wanted to be was. . .

Her.

"You stabbed me."

"No," she said, tightening her grip on his hand. "I stabbed at a painful memory. You know me, Fury, but what you don't know is that I have never in my life turned into a wolf. Even though it's part of me, it's a part that I have never been able to accept. I've lived my entire life trying to silence a nightmare that has never relented. We were friends, you and I. And not once since you left have I ever found anyone who made me feel like you did. In your eyes, I was always beautiful."

He met her gaze and the pain inside him scorched her. "And in your eyes, I'm a monster."

"A monster named Furry?"

He snatched his hand away from hers. "He can't pro­nounce my name yet."

"No, but you answer to it and you protected a woman who twice wounded you."

"So what? I'm a stupid asshole."

She reached up and touched his face. "You were never stupid."

He turned his face away. "Don't touch me. It's hard enough to fight your scent. After all, I'm just an animal and you're in heat."

Yes, she was, and the closer she was to him, the more that basic part of herself wanted to be with him. Every hormone in her body was on fire and it was weakening her will.

Or was she just using that as an excuse? The truth was, even without this she'd spent hours at night remembering him. Remembering his scent and his kindness. Wondering what it would have been like had he been Arcadian and still with her.

In all these centuries, he'd been her only real friend and she'd missed him terribly.

Swallowing her fear, she forced herself to say what she really wanted to. "Sate me, Fury."

He blinked at her words. "What?"

"I want you."

He shook his head and cast her a scathing glare. "That's your hormones talking. You don't want me. You just need to get laid."

"There's a house full of men downstairs I could pick from. Or I could go home and find one. But I don't want them." He moved away from her.

She followed him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Your brother told me that the lions are hunting us. I have no doubt they'll find me and kill me. But before I die, I want to do the one thing that I used to dream about."

"And that is?"

"Be with you. Why do you think while you were in the patria that I never chose a male to sleep with after I reached my prime?"

"I figured you thought they were limp."

She smiled at his insult. It was so classic Fury. "No. I was waiting for you. I wanted you to be my first." She trailed her hand down to cup him in her hand.

Fury sucked his breath in sharply. It was so hard to think while she fondled him. Hard to remember why he wanted her to leave.

"Be with me this one time." She nipped at his earlobe.

Chills ran the length of his body as the wolf in him howled in pleasure. In all honesty, he'd never taken many lovers. Mostly because of the woman whose hand was squeezing his cock through his jeans. How could he trust another one after the way she'd betrayed him?

He'd always held himself back from the other wolfswans. When they'd been in heat, he'd withdrawn until the woman had claimed another wolf.

It was easier that way. He didn't like human emotions, and he didn't like any kind of intimacy. It left him too vul­nerable. Left him open to hurt, and he didn't like being hurt.

He should shove her away and forget how good it felt to be held. He was just about to do that very thing when she wrapped her arms around him and gave him the one thing he hadn't had from anyone other than his nephew.

A hug.

"Do you have anyone who holds you?"

That one question shattered his last resistance. "No."

She walked around him and lifted herself up on her toes to reach his lips. Fury hesitated. Wolves didn't kiss when they mated. It was a human action and it was one he'd never experienced.

But as her lips touched his, he realized why it meant so much to the humans. The tenderness of her breath tickling his skin. Of their breathing mingling while her tongue parted his lips to taste him. That was something the wolf in him understood.

Growling, he pulled her into his arms, tasted her fully.

Angelia moaned at the gentle ferocity of his kiss. He cupped her face in his hands as he explored every inch of her mouth. Part of her couldn't believe she was touching a wolf.

But it's Fury. ..

Her Fury.

Even though they didn't pick their mates, he was the one man she'd given her heart to, even when she'd only been a child. "You'll always be my best friend, Fury, and one day when we're grown we'll be warriors together. You protect my back and I'll protect yours." How innocent that promise had been.

And how hard to keep.

Fury pulled back from the kiss to look down at her with those eyes that seared her with his pain and uncertainty. She was afraid. He could smell it. He just didn't know what she was afraid of. "You know that I am, Lia. You're about to den down with an animal. Are you ready for that?"

Den down . . . it was Katagaria slang and repugnant to the Arcadians.

Angelia traced the outline his lips. "If this is my last night to live, I want it to be with you, Fury. Had the Fates not been cruel to us and turned you into an animal when you hit puberty, we would have done this centuries ago. I know ex­actly what you are and I love you in spite of it." She smoothed the angry frown on his brow. "Most of all, I love you be­cause of what you are."

Fury couldn't breathe as he heard words he'd never thought to hear from anyone's lips.

Love.

But did she mean it?

"Would you die for me, Lia?"

It was her turn to scowl. "Why do you ask me that?"

"Because I would die to keep you safe. That to me is what love is. I want to make sure that this time we both un­derstand the terms. 'Cause if love to you is stabbing me and leaving me to die, then you can keep it."

She choked on a sob at his heartfelt words. "No, baby. That wasn't love. That was me being stupid, and I swear to you if I could go back and change that moment, I would stand there and fight for you . . . like I promised you I would."

Closing his eyes, he nuzzled his face against her cheek, stroking her skin with his whiskers. Angelia smiled at the purely wolf action. He was marking her as his. Mingling their scents together.

And honestly, she wanted his scent on her skin. It was warm and masculine. Pure Fury.

He stepped back and pulled her shirt over her head. His eyes flashing, he ran his hands over her bra, gently massag­ing her. She smiled at his hesitancy. "They won't bite you."

A slow smile curled his lips. "No, but their owner might."

Laughing, she nipped at his chin as she reached around to unfasten her bra.

Fury sucked his breath in sharply as she dropped the bra to the floor. On the small side, her breasts were still the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. His blood thrumming in his ears, he dipped his head down to taste her.