Into the Fire 03 - Forge by Mia West

Author:Mia West
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-04-16T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Wolf stalked straight to the smithy and stoked the coals.

Marcus had been testy for days. Since the boy had arrived, he realized. His actions this night…

Wolf didn’t mind the cuffs. Marc liked them and he liked Wolf in them. And usually Wolf enjoyed it as well. Being at Marcus’s mercy was arousing. Not being able to overpower the man had been an unexpected thrill for Wolf the first time they had used the shackles.

But tonight had been different. Marc had never used them in anger. Oh, they had had angry sex. But they both had been free to use their strength against each other, which had almost always brought them to more powerful climaxes for the struggle. But Wolf refused to be punished for something that didn’t exist.

A desire for a woman? Wolf didn’t deny he had looked forward to having a son with Anna. A daughter would have been fine as well; Wolf would have cherished her, and then tried again for a son. But Anna had died, and with her their brief union, and Marc had invaded Wolf’s heart in a way Anna never had. His chest cramped with the force of Marc’s occupying it. Yes, he wanted sons. Yes, he had, in his private moments, begun to wonder if Ren might benefit from a father. But inviting a woman to come between them?

Wolf ground his teeth. He needed to do something, strike something. Better this hook than Marc’s stubborn, wrong-minded head. But he struck the piece too hard, misshaping it. Sighing, he thrust it into the coals to reheat.

Part of him wanted to march back upstairs and finish their argument. Have it out with words—these words he’d just been thinking. Or with their bodies; that usually put them back on solid ground, whether they fought or fucked. But part of him wanted to go back and apologize, and Wolf despised that part. He had nothing to apologize for.

Marcus could just sit by himself for a while and chew on that.

Wolf brought the glowing piece back to the anvil and began to work in earnest, not caring that it was well past the time the stronghold’s folk had gone to their beds, that his racket would likely wake them. That they might turn to one another with knowing smirks: Marcus and Wolf have had a lovers’ spat. He’d probably woken them already with his shouting. The morning meal was going to be embarrassing. Perhaps he could skip it.

He had drawn the piece from the coals for one final round of refinements when he heard feet scuff the dirt behind him. So Marcus had come to apologize. It was about fucking time. It was also, Wolf hated to admit, a relief.

He was about to set aside his tools when the footsteps quickened. Confused, he began to turn, but not before something struck the back of his skull. Sparks burst across his vision—sparks that had nothing to do with the forge—and then belated pain rang down his spine. Stumbling to one knee, Wolf blinked stupidly.

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