She needed to eradicate that hunger for more than just the mating. Wiping it out of her heart was the biggest favor she could do herself.
Or so she almost convinced herself until Seth walked out of that meeting room. He was talking to Dane Vanderale, both men’s expressions somber and intent as they spoke. Seth had a light scowl on his face, but when his eyes met hers, the cloudy depths lighting with the barest hint of a smile as he continued to listen to Dane, Dawn knew her own heart was lost. She felt it thump violently in her chest, felt the heat blazing through her veins as mating heat began to ratchet inside her. And she knew that just having his body was never going to be enough for her. She needed all of him. She needed it to the point that it was a physical pain thrumming at the center of her being.
She needed his love.
“Ah, and here’s our lovely Dawn.” Dane’s eyes twinkled as a smile curved at his lips. “I must say, Seth, you’ve managed to capture the interest of the most intriguing woman currently inhabiting this island.”
Dawn didn’t blush, she barely blinked at Vanderale’s obvious flirting. Dane was a man-whore if Dawn had ever met one. A personable one, a charming and generous one, but a man-whore all the same.
“Stop flirting with Dawn, Dane,” Seth drawled as he moved across the hall to where Dawn stood against the banister that ran the length of the upper landing.
The warmth of his hard body surrounded her; the hand that clasped her hip pulled her to him as she continued to watch Dane.
There was something different about him, something she had never been able to put her finger on exactly.
“Dawn’s easy to flirt with.” Strong teeth flashed in a curiously feline smile. “She’s taken. I don’t have to worry about her.”
“She’s also getting tired of being discussed as though she weren’t here,” she informed both men. Dane chuckled, then Dawn sensed him tensing. He didn’t change expression, his body didn’t shift or tighten. It was an animal awareness of danger that reached out to her. Her gaze slid to his side as she watched Marion Carrington, Caroline’s father, move to face Seth. It was obvious Caroline had gotten her looks from someone other than her sire. Marion was broad, fit for a man in his fifties. His complexion was ruddy, his watery blue eyes narrowed in anger, and it was obvious that anger was directed at Seth.
“My heli-jet will be collecting me this evening,” he snapped. “You can consider my final vote on this measure a nay. I won’t countenance wasting Lawrence resources in such a matter.” He flicked an insulting look at Dawn.
“And you know my stand on it, Marion. We can negotiate this, or I can call in the codicil on the shares. That’s your choice. My father made certain none of you could overrule me when it was important, not just to Lawrence Industries, but to the family as well.”
Marion Carrington flushed a darker hue. His body was fairly vibrating with rage. “You need two other votes to carry that codicil, Seth.”
Seth inclined his head slowly. “I do, and I have faith they’ll come through.”
“I think we all know he already has one of those votes.” Dane spoke up then. “The negotiation points are important, as Vanderale would like to share in the future profits I’m certain will come in from the ventures. Business is no place to allow personal conflicts to arise, Carrington. Your company, Carrier Resources, could pull in its own stake once Sanctuary and Haven begin pulling in their contracts. That’s rather like cutting your nose to spite your face, my friend.”
Haven was the Wolf Breed compound in Colorado. Both Haven and Sanctuary were working to establish themselves as viable corporations in their own rights. They had a talent. A talent that went for ridiculous amounts of money within the world: personal, business, electronic and military security. The future growth of their services, as well as their reputations, could make billions for not just the respective communities, but also for their backers.
Carrington wasn’t impressed.
“Mark my words, Seth.” His finger pointed imperiously toward Seth. “You’ll regret this, even more than you will otherwise. I’ll block you. Codicil or not, you won’t do this.”
Seth straightened arrogantly, staring down his aristocratic nose, his eyes narrowing dangerously.
“That codicil holds other clauses as well, Carrington. I suggest you and your lawyer go over them closely before you threaten me further. My father may have been ill-advised in his backing of the Council before we learned what it was. But we know now, and he ensured, when he sold the shares to the company and before his death, that nothing interfered with what I needed to do to protect his family and future grandchildren. Don’t underestimate my determination to do just that.” No one could underestimate the determination and the steel will behind his voice.
Children. Dawn refrained from placing her hand against her stomach. The hormonal treatments she had been receiving for years would block any pregnancy…perhaps. She focused on Carrington instead and scented the indecision and the banked fury brewing inside him. He was greedy, but the anger he felt over the dissolution of Seth’s and his daughter’s relationship was more than apparent and it was swaying his decision to back Seth. The frustration was evident in Carrington’s eyes, and in his face. His gaze flicked to Dawn then, and she saw hatred. Pure, malicious hatred. This man would have known what the Council was, who and what he was backing. And he despised the benefits now going to the Breeds, the creations he felt should have willingly given their blood and their dignity to the monsters that created them.
She hated him right back. But she didn’t have to like him, and she didn’t have to deal with him. Seth did. And as long as she was standing at Seth’s side, Carrington would never back down.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, and I’ll let you talk.” She ignored the tightening of Seth’s hand at her hip and moved away without rushing, without showing regret. Though she regretted. She regretted losing the warmth of his body, the stroke of his heat along her flesh. It eased the need building inside her and calmed the animal that fed her hunger. Seth watched as she walked away, her back straight, her shoulders stiff as she moved toward the hall. She would be close; he knew she wouldn’t go far. But that didn’t ease the need to touch her, to hold her. He turned back to Carrington, staring at him coldly.
“Insult her again, and I’ll force the sale of your shares,” he kept his voice low, though he didn’t give a damn who heard what he had to say.
He watched the sweat pop out on Carrington’s forehead, a clear indication that the other man was becoming increasingly concerned. Let him worry. Let him twist in his bed at night worrying about future profits. Seth twisted mentally every f**king night, remembering what the Council had done to Dawn, remembering and hating the bastards for every second of pain they had put her through as a child.
“This has nothing to do with business,” Carrington snapped. “Weren’t you the one that warned me to keep it separate?”
Seth stepped closer. “Do you have a soul, Carrington?” He growled. “Let’s see if you have one. Go back into that room.” He pointed to the meeting room. “Reload those discs and watch them. Watch them and know they’re the truth. Imagine the lash of those whips on your own flesh as a child. A f**king baby, too young to defend yourself. And imagine the discs you didn’t see in there. The ones where they raped children to death.” He clenched his fists at his sides to keep from using them on the other man. “Imagine your child, your precious Caroline, staring back at a camera in death, as every atrocity that could be committed against her young body was committed.” Rage was burning inside him. Before Seth could stop himself, before he could contain the brutal talon-sharp fury tearing at his mind, he gripped the sides of Carrington’s jacket and jerked him close, nose to nose, and let him see the murderous emotions burning inside him.
“Do you have a soul, you spineless little f**ker, or are you just as f**king demented as those bastards you helped fund for all those years?”
Carrington lost all color in his face. He stared back at Seth, horrified.
“They didn’t show you those babies they raped, did they, Carrington?” he snarled brutally. “All those years they sent reports to those certain few who fully backed them, they never showed those poor, pitiful, bloodstained bodies. But you know what? Those that survived? Some of them were made available to the monsters that backed them. Were you one of them?”