She was wearing something silky and pink. You'd think that would mean cute and accessible, but you'd be wrong. Those breasts that she had no problems showing off today were covered up tonight.

All the way up to her chin.

Layers and layers of ruffles and buttons laid between him and the prize he sought.

Pale, silky skin. Swells that he just knew would overflow his hands. She'd taste like the nectar of life.

He knew because that's how her lips tasted.

His fondness for cherry pie wasn't anything on his growing fondness for the taste of an outrageous, gullible pain in the ass witch with porcelain color skin covered in brown freckles. The only thing he liked more was an outrageous, gullible pain in the ass witch with porcelain color skin not covered in brown freckles.

Because the areas with no freckles were just for him.

Or should be.

Angry at the thought of the whole town seeing the swell of her breast yet him not being able to get to them right now, his mouth left hers. He gripped the delicate material hiding what he wanted, and he ripped it down the middle.

She didn't make a sound. She didn't look scared.

Her eyes were thick with passion, hope, and another emotion that he wasn't ready to face.

She was breathing hard and before he could even get a good look at her breast; he was hypnotized by the fall and rise of her chest. By the heartbeat at the base of her throat.

He was strong, but damn if he was strong enough.

His lips found hers again.

She met him halfway, her fingers getting lost in his hair. Her grip was just strong enough to show that she was afraid that he'd stop. That he'd pull away.

Her want of him, her need of him, was as alluring to him as that damn heartbeat.

His lips left a dewy path along her chin and down her neck. His canines nicking skin along the way so that he could taste her blood.

Cato said her blood would sing to him.

Ghastly understatement.

If her skin was life's nectar, then her blood was sweet nirvana. All his senses came alive and zeroed in on one thing.

The base of her throat. Creamy white skin and the blood that pumped just below. Nothing was more important than him sinking his teeth into her. Her blood filling his mouth. Her heartbeat belonging to him.

"Nevaeha."

"Yes, Vallen. Yes."

He didn't even know he was asking for permission until it was his. All restraint left him. This moment wouldn't be denied. There was never a moment in this life that wasn't leading to this.

His canines grew to their longest. His wolf came to life inside of him. In that moment, he wasn't just wolf, he wasn't just human. He was both and both only wanted one thing.

Her to belong to him.

Her blood gushed into his mouth, but before he could truly claim her, he woke.

Breathing hard, fear and loss staggering him, he climbed to his knees and howled.