Twice Tempted: Between Two Alphas (Mia and Cameron) novel Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two

My wolf growls.

We’re back in this ‘other’ place.

It’s the darkness between wakefulness and sleep. A dream, but not.

I don’t see death–but I sense it.

It’s hovering like a mist at the edge of the woods.

I’m not sure how I can find my way to this space, but it’s an instinct ingrained in me.

“Hey beautiful.” Cameron stands beside the lake. Petals fall from the cherry blossom tree at the shoreline. My dad planted this tree with my mom. I always felt closer to her here.

It must be spring, this tree only blooms for a few days when the weather first turns warm. It’s a welcome sign that winter is over.

Cam’s blonde hair curls over the collar of his shirt and his beard is trim. He looks good. When he smiles, I’m a young girl again and that grin of his lights me up from the inside.

“I’ve missed you.” He walks closer.

My wolf is snapping and barking. Which makes no sense. Nala loves Cameron. She never gave up on him.

“I’m not sure how much time we have,” he tells me.

I feel the urgency too.

I glance at the forest, the mist is dark and ominous. Waiting.

I step closer toward the tree, toward the light.

Cam moves in front of me. His huge body blocking out the sun and his scent blowing to me–heat and earth and desire. It blends with the scent of cherry blossoms and the lake, creating an unforgettable memory.

Familiar and yet new.

When his hand reaches out and touches my face, I cry.

It’s joy and pain. Love and hate.

Desire and apathy.

“No,” he whispers. “Don’t let the pain in.”

I feel it then–his pain and mine.

Cameron hurts so deeply. It’s agony.

“I’m sorry,” he tells me.

I know he means it.

His other hand comes up, until they’re both cupping my face.

His eyes are beautiful, bottomless, the brightest green.

Then his lips are dipping toward mine.

I shouldn’t do this. I shouldn’t.

I need to break away and find my way out of this place.

“This isn’t real, Cam.”

His lips brush mine. They’re so soft and full. So gentle.

He’d often kiss me like this. Gently, reverently, like I was some precious thing to cherish. Maybe not when the heat of the moment was upon us, but afterward. After he fucked me senseless.

My body remembers, and it stirs. Slickens. Heat pouring down my limbs and between my legs.

His nostrils flare. He loves the smell of me, the taste. I don’t think there’s a position we haven’t tried or an inch of my body he hasn’t explored.

His lips brush mine again. Tempting, teasing.