Primal Law

Unwillingly, she did. Protectiveness, bordering on violence, on both sides. The unexplainable animal attraction from the first instant he morphed into a man before her eyes. The constant desire to be near him.

"No," she said in denial. Her hands started to shake. "It can't be. That kind of thing only happens in the movies."

"Sweetheart, it's true. Jax is your Bondmate."

She stared at him, trepidation curling in her stomach. "What does that mean, exactly? Spell it out, please."

"Melina can give a better explanation than me."

"I'm asking you," she insisted.

After a long pause, he continued with some reluctance. "You're his perfect match. The one who completes him, both the man and the wolf. Whether a made shifter like Jax, or a born shifter like me, we all have a Bondmate out there somewhere."

"Is this bonding thing triggered by feelings a shifter is developing for the other person?" she asked hopefully. The analytical part of her brain could accept that-but not the answer she actually got.

"No. Whether feelings develop before or after the shifter recognizes his or her Bondmate is irrelevant. The two are fated to be together, period."

"I won't accept that! No way." Her vehemence surprised them both.

"Jax is a good man. There's obviously chemistry between you two. What's so bad about being his mate?"

Bombarded by conflicting emotions, she struggled to explain. "Nothing, if he loved me! Yes, we've had fireworks, but that doesn't mean anything. We still don't know each other very well, and he sees other women-"

"He won't anymore. Not now."

"What? How come?" She refused to acknowledge the bubble of happiness that news caused.

"Once wolf shifters find our mates, we're physically incapable of being with anyone else in the carnal sense. No worries there." He said that as though she should be thrilled.

And she was, except for one tiny detail. "You don't understand. I want my man to be with me because I'm me, not because his glands are dictating to his libido! I want him to fall in love with me and vice versa, not be stuck together because science says so."

"Kira, what makes you think you two won't fall head over heels? Personally, I believe you're well on the way already, and you just need to give yourselves a chance."

"But how will I know?"

"The same way anyone does. In here," he said, pointing at her heart.

She considered this. "Have you ever been in love?"

Pain flashed in his eyes, there and gone. He smiled, but it seemed a little sad. "Hey, we're not talking about me, remember? Just give it time. Trust me."

She didn't answer, but the whole idea still bothered her a great deal. It was the thought that basic feral nature could force two people together, and before either of them were ready. That did not sit well at all.

Forty minutes later, Mac and Dr. Mallory appeared. Kira didn't like the almost tangible aura of gloom surrounding them, the anxiety.

"What's wrong? Isn't he okay?"

Mac glanced at her colleague, who nodded, indicating she could go ahead. "The reading really knocked him for a loop, but as far as recovering from that goes, he should be fine."

"That's good, but what do you mean 'as far as that goes'? There's more?"

"Unfortunately, yes. He's experiencing some symptoms that are causing him discomfort."

"I noticed him scratching," Kira said with a frown.

"He's itching and it's getting worse, starting to burn. He also has a sore throat and a fever, which he didn't have yesterday. He's getting sicker and if the proper steps aren't taken, his life will be in danger."

Kira blinked, chest squeezing. "What do you mean? What kinds of steps?"

"One important one, really." Mac paused. "Did Nick tell you?"

"I told her," the boss confirmed.

"Wait a second. Is this about me being his mate? You're telling me that not only do we have this attraction we can't help, but his cure depends on me?"

"That's what we're saying," Mac told her gently. "His life depends on you."

She gasped. "He's going to die if I don't mate with him? Oh, my God!" She rounded on Nick. "You said I could give it time! And now I find out I have no choice? I'm supposed to just hand my entire life over to a man who's half canine, and not really a man at all?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she'd crossed the line. Especially when a hoarse voice spoke from behind her.

"I'd never ask you to make such a horrible sacrifice. Don't worry. You won't be saddled with a filthy dog like me."

With that, Jax limped past the group. His cheeks were still pale and he was holding his stomach as he walked slowly across the waiting room and out the door.

Kira's face flamed, her heart aching with shame. And something else, a yearning for the man who'd left, looking more dejected than she'd ever seen anyone. She wanted to call him back, but the words had lodged in her throat like a melon.

She'd put her own feelings before the well-being of a good man. He could die, and she'd only thought of herself.

The scathing look she received from Dr. Mallory spoke volumes. "Why don't you take the rest of the afternoon off? Go see Jax and make things right."

"I will," she said softly.

Ducking her head, she rushed from the room. She had to apologize.

And somehow make him understand these feelings she didn't even comprehend herself.

Jaxon's stomach churned, and his head pounded. His throat, his whole body, felt like he was slowly being roasted in an oven, but those symptoms weren't the worst.

No, the worst was Kira's words still ringing in his brain. Cutting him off at the knees, bringing him lower than he'd ever been. Even after Afghanistan, with more than half his soldiers slaughtered. Or following the ambush on Alpha Pack, when Beryl had betrayed him.

I'm supposed to just hand my entire life over to a man who's half canine, and not really a man at all?

Not a man at all.

What else had he expected? But God, it hurt. So badly he wanted to curl up in the fetal position and die. A warrior and a shifter with special abilities, cut down by a woman's tongue as surely as if he'd been run through with a sword or shot between the eyes. The latter would be kinder than this.

Breathing through the pain-both kinds-he let himself into his apartment and headed for his room. Without bothering to remove his boots, he flopped onto his bed and lay on his side, covering his eyes. That's when he realized the burning in his throat wasn't all from the fever. Sweet Jesus, he hadn't cried in years and he wasn't about to give in now.

He'd dealt with a lot of shit and he'd deal with being rejected by his mate.

He would.

But that didn't stop the hot moisture from seeping between his lashes. Angrily, he rubbed his eyes, willing the ache to ease. Was this the reaction of the dirty dog, or the man? How sad that he didn't know.

Oh yeah, you're not a man, remember?

He heard a rapping at the door to his place. He lay there willing it to stop, but his visitor wasn't going away.

"Son of a bitch."

Hauling himself up, he started for the door. Halfway there, Kira's familiar scent wafted to him, freezing him in his tracks. If she'd come to apologize, he wasn't ready to listen to excuses.

Growling in frustration, he limped across the distance and yanked the door open, schooling his expression to appear calm. "What do you want?"

His curt greeting took her aback and she fidgeted nervously. "Can I come in? I really don't want to do this where someone might hear."

"Funny, you didn't have a problem with that in the clinic."

"Jax, please?" Her small face was pinched, blue eyes shadowed with worry.

He sighed. "I guess. Come in."

Leaving her to follow, he shuffled into the living room and sat on one end of the sofa. She took the other end, perching close to him but not touching. Since this was her dime, he let her struggle.

"Look, you don't know how sorry I am for what you heard," she began with difficulty. "But I didn't mean it the way it sounded."

He snorted an ugly laugh. "That I'm not a man? Really? I'd love to know how else to take that except you believe I'm an animal, or subhuman."

"No!" Leaning toward him, she clutched his knee. "That's not what I meant! I just find it sort of scary to learn that I don't have a say when it comes to you being my mate. That I have to be bound to someone for life because of biology, and not love."

He studied her, decided she was being honest. "I get that. But how do you know this attraction between us is not becoming love already?"

"How do I know it is, for absolute sure?" she countered. "I've never been serious about anyone before, not serious enough to marry or even live together. And then I suddenly learn that there's a whole world I never knew existed, and that the creatures of my childhood fables aren't so fictional after all. There was no time to adjust, to catch my breath. And then, bam! Sudden, life-altering changes and a man-and yes, you are a man, and I'm a jerk-a man is claiming me for his own. And, oh yeah, he and his friends are like critters out of a J. R. R. Tolkien novel, and I'm walking around half-expecting to run into Gollum looking for his precious!"

Her eyes were wide, cheeks flushed from the passion of her speech, blond hair framing her face. Damned if she wasn't the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

And fuck it all, he was going to forgive her.

Reaching out, he brushed back a pale strand. "Yeah," he said softly. "I guess that would pretty much mess with your day."

Arousal flared on her face, pupils dilating. Breath hitching, she scooted closer, capturing his hand. "Pretty much. Forgive me?"

"Sweet baby, I forgave you at 'I'm a jerk.' "

Her lips tilted into a smile. "Don't get used to it."

"I'd like to get used to you, period."

"How flattering."

"I'm working on my delivery. What can I say?"

"Say you'll kiss me," she whispered.

He smiled, all his pain forgotten with her one simple request. "Baby, I'll do much more than that."

Pulling his woman close, he crushed his mouth to hers.

Chapter Eleven

Kira reveled in his mouth on hers, his tongue slipping inside to taste. Being held in his strong arms was heaven and she loved his size, how she felt surrounded. Safe.

His hardness poked against her stomach, causing her to squirm. He moaned and a little spurt of satisfaction went through her that she was the cause of his arousal. His need.

Big hands skimmed her sides, worked underneath her shirt. Found the cups of her bra and palmed them as he thrust upward, grinding his erection, seeking relief. The action caused an answering heat between her legs that spread low in her womb. She needed to be filled by him. Owned. Ravaged.

"Too many clothes," she hissed, tugging at his shirt.

Briefly, his eyes seemed to glow. "We can remedy that."

She yanked the garment over his head and then scooted back some, attacking his belt. With a low chuckle, he raised his hips to help her along and she freed his thick cock, lifted out his heavy balls. She'd never thought of a man's package as particularly beautiful, but Jax was everything a man should be. And much more.

Suddenly she couldn't think of anything she wanted more than to taste the precum seeping from the slit of his cock. To wrap her lips around the head and drive him crazy with lust. In the past, giving a guy a blow job was something she could take or leave-mostly leave since the act was usually all about his pleasure, not hers-but this time was different. With Jax, the pleasure would go both ways.