Sylvia's Torment (Enforcers and Coterie Book 2) by Veronica Del Rosa Page B
Authors: Veronica Del Rosa
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into her lungs, almost choking her.
The unmistakable aroma of lust scented the air, and it wasn’t from her.
He desired her.
How the hell had she missed this before? Was it a recent development? He’d never given her any indication he wanted her.
The most logical reason came to mind. Simple biology. Men desired women all the time and didn’t take it any farther. It meant nothing.
What a shame.
She knew he wasn’t her lifemate. A bond had never occurred between them, one that was supposed to be more intimate than an Alpha’s bond with his pack. The Alpha could send his thoughts to each member under him: Betas, Deltas, the Omega and the submissives. However, he received nothing in return. No thoughts or emotions. But lifemates shared a bond so intimate and complete that when one died, the other soon followed. They could communicate psychically no matter the distance between them.
The male werewolf always knew his mate and was ruthless in pursuing her. On the rare occasion when more than one tried to claim a woman, she made the choice. And the rejected one never recovered.
Derek did not have the air of a rejected and devastated man. Nor had he ever pursued her.
Following him out of the hospital room, her eyes wandered down the length of his back and zeroed in on his tight butt encased in jeans. The flexing of his muscles mesmerized her. She wanted to dig her fingers into his hips and hold on tight for a wild ride.
His long legs ate up the distance to the elevator and then bypassed them for the stairs. Standing in the entrance with his back pressed against the door, he held it open for her. She brushed past him, near enough to feel his body heat, and suppressed a shudder of longing.
Why the hell was her awareness of him jacked up like this?
She hurried down the stairs, trying to escape her messed-up thoughts. Perhaps she could convince him to drop her off at home. A quick peek at his shuttered expression discouraged any speaking. She’d just hope for the best.
Maybe she’d be in the farthest room from his and wouldn’t see him while she stayed at his place.
Good luck with that, her inner voice taunted her.
Chapter Eleven
The empty hospital room mocked him. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours helping sort out the victims from the guards and scientists. Exhausted, he just wanted to spend some time with Sylvia, reassure himself that she was fine. Instead, he found her gone.
Victor debated his next course of action. Should he call Markus, see if he knew where Sylvia had gone, or, heaven forbid, contact Derek? He could already imagine the choice words Derek would share.
As he pondered the matter, he realized there was one logical option: Derek’s place. A grim smile stretched his lips. He’d prefer to avoid a showdown with his old enemy, but in the end, he didn’t care. Backing down wasn’t in his nature.
He had to see Sylvia.
Clearing his mind, he gathered the required energy for teleport and visualized his destination. Having been to the Alpha’s house several times over the years, the location was familiar to him. A gentle wind tugged at his clothes and hair as his body moved from one location to the other.
Night had crept over day. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the up-scale street. A large, wrought-iron fence circled the front of the property, and a huge ornamental gate blocked the main entrance. Running a critical eye over the gate, he could see the hammer marks where a smith had shaped the iron into its desired form. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the metal-smithing. As cold iron was a deterrent to the Fae, such work was in high demand and yet rare to find. Which meant something this size had cost a pretty penny.
Victor walked through the smaller open gate to the right, which was used by visitors and for any deliveries. The house dominated the space, a huge monstrosity. Touting three floors with balconies and more rooms than he could count, it was a perfect
The unmistakable aroma of lust scented the air, and it wasn’t from her.
He desired her.
How the hell had she missed this before? Was it a recent development? He’d never given her any indication he wanted her.
The most logical reason came to mind. Simple biology. Men desired women all the time and didn’t take it any farther. It meant nothing.
What a shame.
She knew he wasn’t her lifemate. A bond had never occurred between them, one that was supposed to be more intimate than an Alpha’s bond with his pack. The Alpha could send his thoughts to each member under him: Betas, Deltas, the Omega and the submissives. However, he received nothing in return. No thoughts or emotions. But lifemates shared a bond so intimate and complete that when one died, the other soon followed. They could communicate psychically no matter the distance between them.
The male werewolf always knew his mate and was ruthless in pursuing her. On the rare occasion when more than one tried to claim a woman, she made the choice. And the rejected one never recovered.
Derek did not have the air of a rejected and devastated man. Nor had he ever pursued her.
Following him out of the hospital room, her eyes wandered down the length of his back and zeroed in on his tight butt encased in jeans. The flexing of his muscles mesmerized her. She wanted to dig her fingers into his hips and hold on tight for a wild ride.
His long legs ate up the distance to the elevator and then bypassed them for the stairs. Standing in the entrance with his back pressed against the door, he held it open for her. She brushed past him, near enough to feel his body heat, and suppressed a shudder of longing.
Why the hell was her awareness of him jacked up like this?
She hurried down the stairs, trying to escape her messed-up thoughts. Perhaps she could convince him to drop her off at home. A quick peek at his shuttered expression discouraged any speaking. She’d just hope for the best.
Maybe she’d be in the farthest room from his and wouldn’t see him while she stayed at his place.
Good luck with that, her inner voice taunted her.
Chapter Eleven
The empty hospital room mocked him. He’d spent the last twenty-four hours helping sort out the victims from the guards and scientists. Exhausted, he just wanted to spend some time with Sylvia, reassure himself that she was fine. Instead, he found her gone.
Victor debated his next course of action. Should he call Markus, see if he knew where Sylvia had gone, or, heaven forbid, contact Derek? He could already imagine the choice words Derek would share.
As he pondered the matter, he realized there was one logical option: Derek’s place. A grim smile stretched his lips. He’d prefer to avoid a showdown with his old enemy, but in the end, he didn’t care. Backing down wasn’t in his nature.
He had to see Sylvia.
Clearing his mind, he gathered the required energy for teleport and visualized his destination. Having been to the Alpha’s house several times over the years, the location was familiar to him. A gentle wind tugged at his clothes and hair as his body moved from one location to the other.
Night had crept over day. The streetlights cast a soft glow over the up-scale street. A large, wrought-iron fence circled the front of the property, and a huge ornamental gate blocked the main entrance. Running a critical eye over the gate, he could see the hammer marks where a smith had shaped the iron into its desired form. He took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the metal-smithing. As cold iron was a deterrent to the Fae, such work was in high demand and yet rare to find. Which meant something this size had cost a pretty penny.
Victor walked through the smaller open gate to the right, which was used by visitors and for any deliveries. The house dominated the space, a huge monstrosity. Touting three floors with balconies and more rooms than he could count, it was a perfect
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