The Hunter's Queen (ICS Book Two) - Wattys2017

Chapter Nineteen - The Hunter's Mistake

The Hunter's Mistake

The biting wind chased up her skin, Eve's fingers shaking from the cold. She barely noticed as Vincent carried her through the forest. He had her tossed over his shoulder, the trees passing by as a blur. His hard body was completely nude, blood dripping down his chest. There were gashes and scratches along his skin and shoulders, but he didn't seem to care or notice.

Her heart was hammering in her chest, tormented and confused, filling with a painful ache. Her mind couldn't focus, overwhelmed by what had happened. All that blood, all that chaos. It played over and over in her head.

But one thought haunted her above all others.

Hunter.

Vincent was a hunter. She felt sick with the knowledge of it. How could she be so foolish? How had she not recognized his name?

A cold thought occurred to her. Had Levina known? Why would her aunt do this to her? Memories of searing flames and screams of agony assaulted her mind. She wanted to run, away from her past, away from the wolf, away from all of it.

So weak.

She hated it. Why couldn't she be strong?

"Vincent."

"Quiet," he rumbled, the word strained. His hot body was thrumming with power, she could feel it. Was this his wolf?

She'd never seen a turned werewolf before, but there was no doubt that Vincent was a dominant male. He was born to be an alpha. The way he'd fought off those other werewolves, his wolf had been fierce, powerful. Eve had known he was strong, but she'd never imagined...

So much blood.

She struggled to get out of his hold. "Vincent. Let me down."

He growled beneath her, his hand coming up and kneading her backside. Despite her tormented mind her body reacted to him, a whimper on her lips. His hand cupped her roughly before he shuddered, slamming his fist against a tree.

"Vincent."

"Quiet," he barked. His voice nearly vibrated with the command. Her words caught in her throat.

The cottage came into view. The muscles of Vincent's back and shoulders went rigid. Before they were halfway to the door he let out a curse, sliding her down his body and pinning her against a tree. His lips crashed down onto hers, his beard scrapping along her skin. Big hands gripped her thighs, sharp claws biting into her backside, as he wrapped her legs around his waist. Then he was yanking up her dress, his claws twisting the soft material.

She heard fabric rip. Panic struck her.

He was going to take her right now. She couldn't do this, she wasn't ready. She tried to yell out but couldn't speak. Instead she fought against him, arching her back, shoving against his chest. Her actions only seemed to excite him further. He pinned her harder with his body, snarling with excitement, as if he wanted to show her his strength.

A whimper sounded in her throat.

"Submit." His voice rumbled straight to her core. It had grown so much rougher, the tone more commanding, more dominant. It was hard for her to deny him. She wanted to bare her neck to him, to arch up and welcome his bite as he took her body.

She physically ached for it.

Oh god, what was happening?

Eve clutched at his shoulders, unsure if she was trying to push him away or pull him closer. His hips bucked, a deep groan in his chest. His fangs caressed over her neck as one of his hands slipped between them, tearing her panties.