17: Irresistible Pull

Prince Caspian Romanov

I seek her out again after my last class. The pull is too strong. I can’t help it.

I watch her march to the Club Espresso Degree Café from the library.

A lot of men, and even some women, give her a second and even a third look as she walks past, but she seems oblivious to the attention that she’s getting. She talks to a girl at the counter before she disappears into the back room of the café. Twenty minutes later, she comes out and sits down at a table by the window.

Two humans, a mocha-skinned girl with short dark hair and a pale, pimply-faced boy with dark-rimmed glasses, join her with smoothies and sandwiches. The pallid, skinny boy has a big crush on my erasthai, and she doesn’t even know it.

I don’t like how close he is sitting to her. I curl my hands into tight fists to stop myself from storming in there and staking my claim on her. It’s so easy for me to lose control with her. It happened twice already in one day. That first time, I almost fully marked her. Almost.

It’s a good thing that I managed to pull back in time. I just marked her scent. No werewolves, humans, or any other creatures will be able to sense it, though.

Only other lycans who are interested in her will be able to sense my marking. There will be a bloodbath if other lycans mark what’s mine.

“What are you?” she had asked me this morning. That’s one question I’m not willing to answer yet since she’s a human.

I am a monster, that’s what I am. I would have scared her away. If she were a werewolf, she would have known what I am the moment she saw me. It would have made things easier, but I don’t want to change a thing about her. She’s perfect.

A lycan or a werewolf would have accepted the marking and the mating process as part of our lives. Humans would have a problem with it since they’re not raised in the ways of the beasts that we are.

Humans would have a problem with the concept of being owned by somebody, and my erasthai, being a human, might have a problem with it too.

I can’t help it though. In my head and my heart, she’s mine, all mine, and in return, I’m all hers for eternity. I take care of what’s mine. I’ll do anything to make her happy. She’ll be draped in the finest silk, decked in gold, diamonds, and pearls if her heart so desires.

I’ll protect her with my life.

My erasthai is a mystery, though. The first time I met her over a week ago, she ran so fast. I almost blew it by running after her. I almost changed into my lycan in broad daylight, trying to catch her. No ordinary human can run that fast, but she smells like one, and I can sense no wolf in her.

I had my men track her down that very day. I was informed that she’s living with three werewolves and a human. So, she must know of our existence.

Most humans are oblivious to our presence. It’s been that way for centuries, and we want to keep it that way. I don’t know how much she knows about us, but the way she reacted after I bit her neck indicates that she knows of our ways, or at least the ways of the werewolves.

True, she was mad, but normal human girls would have freaked out, not sought me out to yell at me.

I could ask my men to find out about her. I would have a file on her by tomorrow. However, I’d rather find out by myself…through her.

I meet her in front of the café once she steps outside. She narrows her eyes and gives me a haughty look but doesn’t say anything. Those beautiful sensual red lips are now partially open but otherwise completely silent. For now. From what I observe, my erasthai is not the type to stay quiet for long.

We walk to the bus stop a few blocks away in complete silence. My eyes keep straying to her and find her doing the same thing. She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. A perfect little figure with curves all in the right places. Long shapely legs.

Jet-black hair, a small heart-shaped face, cushy red lips, and a big pair of eyes so green, framed by thick dark eyelashes. Perfect.

I keep my cocky smile in place.

But I curl my hands into tight fists to stop myself from reaching out and wrapping my arms around her so that we’re entwined, woven, and tangled together until there is no beginning and no end of her and me, for eternity.

I want to wind my fingers through her silky soft dark hair. I want to cover her lips and her body with my mouth and drown in her taste, scent, and everything that is her.

I want our bond to anchor deep within our souls and be the reason for our beings.

The bus arrives not long after we have reached the bus stop. She must have timed it perfectly.

I watch her climb in and find her seat. Our eyes meet and lock through the glass window as the bus pulls away.

I watch the bus disappear from view in frustration. Why doesn’t she admit that she wants me? She does want me, doesn’t she?

I mean look at me. I’m freaking gorgeous. Every woman wants me.

All I have to do is flash them a little smile, and they’re a puddle at my feet. Pay them a little attention and they’re my plaything if I so wish.

She’s my erasthai. Isn’t she supposed to want me more than any other women? I want her more than anything in my life, and I know that she wants me too. I can sense it.

So why is she fighting it? Why can’t she submit to the pull already?

Why is she so stubborn? It’s driving me so fucking crazy. Has anyone ever ~died~ of blue balls?

Okay, so I want her more than just for her body, but still… ~Has~ anyone ever died of blue balls?