The green eyes studied him with an unwavering interest. “You’re upset.”
“Dying tends to sour my mood.”
“You were only dead a few minutes and now you have what you’ve always desired,” she pointed out with perfect logic. “You’re a full-blooded Were.”
“Yeah, I got the memo.”
He shuddered, still adjusting to the sensations that crashed through him. It was like the floodgates had been jerked open to release a torrent of raw power. It would be days, if not weeks before he could become accustomed to his newly heightened senses and the strange cravings that gripped him.
“Then why aren’t you pleased?” she softly demanded.
He grimaced at her puzzlement. It was true he had never made a secret of his lust to gain the gifts of a Were. What creature wouldn’t want to be stronger and faster and downright superior?
And, of course, there was always the whole immortality thing.
But when he’d received the visions that had promised he was destined to become a pureblood, he hadn’t counted on the sacrifice.
“Because it …”
“What?”
He squeezed his hands into tight balls of frustration. “I thought my destiny was to unlock the secret of transforming cur blood into pure Were,” he bit out. “Not being genetically altered because a whacked-out demon lord rammed through me in an attempt to escape into another dimension.”
She tilted her head to the side, somberly considering his words.
“You regret that you won’t be able to share your wondrous transformation with others?”
He snorted at the naïve question. Obviously Cassandra hadn’t figured out yet that he was a selfish bastard who’d never done a thing in his life that didn’t benefit him in one way or another.
“I’m not Gandhi.”
“Who?”
He heaved a pained sigh. “Never mind.” “I still don’t understand why you’re upset. “I wanted to fulfill my visions with science, not magic.”
“Why?”
“A gift given by magic is never without cost. The universe always manages to extract a payment. Christ.” He shuddered. “I can’t even imagine what the cosmic debt for immortality will be.”
“It’s too late for regrets.” She frowned at his sharp laugh. “Did I say something funny? I’m never sure.”
“I’ve been saying that it’s too late for regrets for the past decade,” he muttered.
“Ah.” She turned to wander toward the nearby window, studying the untamed nature that surrounded them. “And yet you still have them.”
“I …” His mouth dropped in shock as Cassandra absently pulled the sweatshirt over her head and dropped it on the floor. The jeans swiftly followed, leaving her standing in nothing more than a plain white bra and matching panties. “Holy shit, what are you doing?”
She turned to meet his eyes that glowed with the fire of his wolf, seemingly surprised by his strangled question.
“My clothes smell bad.” She wrinkled her nose. “And I need a bath.”
Hot, savage lust slammed into Caine, nearly sending him to his knees.
The kind of lust that could drive a man to madness.
Which was the only reason he was spinning away from the slender elegance of her near naked form and was gripping the counter with enough force to crack the marble top.
He’d made one bad decision after another over the past few decades.
It was time he started thinking with his actual brain.
“Yeah, well, as much as I appreciate an impromptu strip-tease by a gorgeous female, my self-control is nonexistent, so I suggest you head upstairs,” he growled.
He heard her sniff the air, easily scenting his arousal. “You want me?”
Want?
His cock was pressing against his jeans with enough force to cut off his blood supply.
With one fluid motion he was whirling, crossing the floor to press the provoking woman against the wall. He distantly remembered to temper his newfound strength, rubbing his face along the curve of her neck as he absorbed her unique scent.
“Correction, I fucking ache for you,” he rasped, his body on fire with need. “But right now we’re both in a crazy place. When I take you as my lover it will be when I have nothing on my mind but how much I want to please you.”
Caine wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but it certainly wasn’t to discover himself lying flat on his back, with Cassandra bending over him with a smug smile.
“You’ll become my lover when I say and not a minute sooner,” she assured him.
Caine rolled over just in time to watch her sashay from the room, the sway of her tight little ass sending his blood pressure through the roof.
Shit.
Who the hell was Cassandra?
An isolated, cave-dwelling prophet who’d been irrevocably damaged by a demented demon lord?
Or a ruthlessly seductive female who’d just given him a smack down with frightening ease?
Rolling to his feet, Caine rubbed the lump on the back of his throbbing skull. Karma was definitely a bitch, he decided, heading toward the guest bedroom upstairs.