Silenced by Addison Cain

Author:Addison Cain [Cain, Addison]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Addison Cain

18

How could something cause pain yet still feel like home?

Caspian’s warm breath fanning her cheek, Wren’s pelvis free of a knot her body had not been quite ready to handle, she shivered, gnawing hunger eating her belly.

Yet did not feel misery as she should.

Perhaps it was the Alpha purr he poured upon her flesh. Maybe it was the smell of familiar male. That had to be what drew her nose to his vulnerable throat. Not that she sought comfort from this man. Not that she longed to be held properly.

Deep breaths, instinct drove her to find solace in his scent, to saturate her cells in it, to forget the stink of the Warrens and the aches in her bones.

If he’d offered her water in that moment, she would have lapped it out of his palms like a dog. Food of any sort, she’d swallow past a gritty throat to fill an aching belly—so long as he’d been the one to place it in her mouth.

Even here. Even on display.

Having not shaved since last she’d seen him, Caspian’s cheek bristled with the early growth of a beard. It scratched at her skin when she’d thrown an arm around his neck, rubbing her cheek to his in search of more scent.

Familiar, warm, steady, and powerful.

Guts churning, her skin buzzed as if she’d been drugged.

Or was that the fading remnants of panic, all of it washing away the more lightheaded she grew?

Had it not been for the hand poorly finger-combing her hair, for the little zings of pain each time a knot caught, Wren would have fallen asleep as she was.

Naked. Splayed on a work table where any with a view of their Alpha’s terrace might see. Clinging to a monster.

Filthy and caged by the arms of a dangerous man.

God, she was thirsty.

Licking at her own drying tears in an effort to soothe her parched throat, a pink tongue darted, traced, and came back tasting of salt and dirt.

Hooded, mud-colored eyes took in the way she worked to swallow, and the entirety of Caspian’s demeanor shifted.

The rare softening of his expression cinched crudely into the hard countenance of a leader. A remorseless killer. Eyes glazed, he reached between their bodies and cupped what still spilled from her womb, lifting the slippery pearlescent fluid and bringing it to her lips.

The offering was less about domination and more about Alpha impulse, not that it mattered. Wren swallowed what slid from his palm to her mouth.

She sucked his fingers as if she might find another drop.

Exhausted.

Shaken.

Starving for so much more than food.

A lovely, soft enticement of noise—so unlike any offering he’d made before—preceded another sip of slick-laced cum. Feeding her more of their shared fluids, Caspian held her eyes.

The male didn’t blink.

“Don’t interrupt them.”

It sounded distant, that voice. As did the small scuffle preceding, “Get your hands off me, Toby.”

“My mate needs water, food, a bath before she can handle more.”

“Caspian!” The Second’s call was dripping with anger.

At the sound of his name, brown eyes that had mesmerized her into a slack, purring mass snapped out of their trance.

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