Heat consumed Isla.
It rolled beneath her skin and settled low in her belly, turning every brush of fabric into torment.
Sweat dampened her forehead.
She shifted against the sheets, searching for a cool spot that didn’t exist.
Logan’s arm tightened around her waist.
“Stop moving,” he warned.
“I’m trying.”
She pressed her knees together, but that only made the ache worse.
The healer had given her an antidote.
So why did she feel as if she were burning alive?
Logan’s scent flooded her heightened senses—cedar, smoke, and something darkly wild.
Her mouth watered.
Every breath pulled him deeper into her lungs.
Behind her, his hard body radiated heat.
Serena paced frantically inside her.
‘His scent is driving me mad.’
‘You’re not helping.’
‘Then ask him to touch us.’
‘Absolutely not.’
‘You’re already wet.’
Isla’s cheeks burned hotter.
She squeezed her eyes shut.
This wasn’t her.
It was the drug.
It had stolen control of her body, just as Melinda had intended.
Wanting Logan was one thing.
Being forced to want him was another.
“Isla.”
The deep voice beside her made her flinch.
She turned and found Logan watching her in the darkness.
Gold had swallowed the blue of his eyes.
“Do you still feel pain?” he asked.
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“Everything feels too warm.” Shame tightened her throat.
His gaze sharpened.
Isla shifted again before she could stop herself.
Her thigh brushed his, and a jolt of pleasure shot through her.
A broken gasp escaped her.
Logan went rigid.
“Don’t do that again.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.”
A low sound came from Logan.
For one horrified second, she thought he was angry.
But the heat continued climbing.
Isla’s throat felt raw, and lying against him only sharpened the restless ache between her thighs.
“I need water.”
She slipped out of his hold before he could stop her.
The carpet felt unsteady beneath her feet.
She crossed the bedroom and entered the adjoining bathroom, aware of Logan’s gaze following every step.
Cold water helped for less than a second. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Isla gripped the marble sink and stared at her reflection.
Her pupils were dilated.
Her skin glowed with fever, and the silk nightdress clung to her damp body.
Another wave hit her.
Her knees weakened.
She reached for a towel, but her foot slipped on the smooth tile.
A gasp tore from her throat.
Both hands flew toward her stomach instead of bracing for the fall.
The floor never reached her.
Strong arms caught her, one locking around her waist while the other protected her head.
Logan pulled her against his chest.
“You could have fallen on the pup.”
“I know.”
“You could barely walk straight.”
“I thought the water might help.”
“That’s why you wake me instead of wandering around alone.”
“I didn’t want to disturb you.”
His jaw hardened.
“You falling would disturb me considerably more.”
His gaze moved over her, checking for injuries.
It dropped once to where the thin silk clung between her thighs.
His nostrils flared.
Then he looked away so sharply that Isla understood exactly what he had noticed.
Humiliation crashed over her.
“This isn’t me,” she whispered.
Logan looked at her again.
“The drug triggered a false heat.
The full moon is amplifying it.”
She followed his gaze toward the bathroom window.
A silver moon hung against the black sky, perfectly round.
“Why didn’t the healer warn us?”
“She probably didn’t realize how strongly your wolf would react.” His hold tightened.
“You’re carrying my blood.
Your body recognizes my scent as something that can stabilize the pup.”
“Then why is being near you making it worse?”
His eyes burned brighter.
“It isn’t only the pup responding anymore.”
Isla’s breath caught.
Logan lifted her into his arms and carried her back to bed.
He placed her carefully against the pillows but immediately stepped away.
The distance made Serena claw at her from within.
“What are you doing?” Isla asked.
“Calling the healer.”
“At this hour?”
“She’ll survive.”
He reached for his phone.
Isla caught his wrist.
Logan froze.
His attention dropped to her fingers before slowly returning to her face.
“Don’t leave me.”
His wolf flashed behind his eyes.
“Isla, you’re under the influence of a drug.”
“I know what they gave me.
“But I also know I don’t want to be alone.”
“I can stay without touching you.”
“What if that isn’t enough?”
Every muscle in his body turned rigid.
“Be careful what you ask for.”
Her pulse thundered.
Part of her wanted to hide, but she had spent too much of her life allowing other people to define her desires.
Coel had called her frigid because she refused to give him what he wanted.
Her family had treated her body like something they owned.
This decision would be hers.
“Touch me,” she whispered.
Logan didn’t move.
“Look at me and say it again.”
Isla forced herself to hold his burning gaze.
“I want you to touch me.”
His thumb brushed over the pulse in her wrist.
“The second you tell me to stop, I stop.”
She nodded.
“Use your words.”
“Yes.”
Logan leaned over her, caging her between his arms without letting his weight settle on her.
His mouth hovered above the frantic pulse in her neck.
“Last chance.”
Instead of answering, Isla tilted her head, baring her throat.
Something inside him snapped.
His lips touched her skin.
The first slow stroke of his tongue dragged a moan from her.
She gripped his shoulders as his mouth moved along her neck, never biting, but coming close enough that her wolf shuddered.
“Logan.”
He drew back immediately.
“Stop?”
“No.” She pulled him closer.
“Please.”
His hand slid beneath the hem of her nightdress, moving slowly enough for her to refuse.
Warm fingers traced the inside of her thigh and stopped.
“Tell me.”
“Don’t stop.”
His fingers moved higher.
Isla arched with a gasp as he found the center of the ache.
He watched every change in her face, learning what made her tremble and what made her grip him harder.
Pleasure built fast, frightening in its intensity.
“Logan—”
“I have you.”
His words undid her.
The tension broke in a blinding wave.
Isla cried out his name as her body shook beneath his hand.
When the last tremor faded, she collapsed against him, breathless.
Logan slowly withdrew his hand.
“The false heat should ease now,” he said, his voice rough.
Isla opened her eyes.
His were still burning gold.
“Then why,” she whispered, “do you still look like that?”
His arm tightened around her waist.
“Because your heat is gone.”
His mouth brushed her ear.
“Mine isn’t.”