Navarro's Promise(10)

Another part, a more primal, intent part of his mind demanded he move, that he ease the pain he could more than feel. He could smell it. A thick, rich scent of heat, like wood burning. In Mica, it was stronger than that of an ember, but not yet a blaze.

Scents were odd; different emotions, different levels of sensation or feelings could inspire the body to radiate far different scents.

With Mica, a woman he knew could bear, and hide, a certain amount of discomfort, the fact that he could scent the heat of the pain so clearly was telling. She was hurting, and the longer he lay there, the pressure of his body against hers, the more the pain increased.

He could sense it. The knowledge of it had his muscles tensing, had him fighting to keep his weight from her as much as possible.

“We’re almost there,” he assured her as he turned his head to catch a glimpse of the buildings they were passing. From between the front seats he could glimpse the towers, watching as each passed by and counting off the streets left to go. “There’s a nice warm room awaiting us, Mica. A hot meal, a hot shower, then I’ll check your ribs and see the damage those bastards managed to do. I’ll care for you.

Haven’t I always cared for you whenever you needed?”

“Yes.” The tightly worded response destroyed him.

He’d never wanted anyone’s trust, especially a woman’s, but he wanted hers.

She made him wish, when he’d learned years before not to wish. She made him hunger, she made him want to learn how to dream.

The contradictions were often disconcerting because he couldn’t ignore them, and emotions were something he’d learned to ignore as a child.

With Mica, he found it impossible to ignore anything she forced him to feel. Especially the arousal.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” he whispered against her ear as he felt her trembling beneath him, the scent of pain growing stronger as it wafted from her. “Do you remember, Amaya?” Night rain.

She reminded him of the dark peace, the gentle touch of a summer rain at night.

“I was fifteen.” Stress filled her voice, pain tightened it. “They were calling Cassie names.”

Some of the younger Breeds, those who had been rescued from the labs while still in their teens. They had dared to stand before Cassie and call her a freak when they detected the slightest hint of her Coyote genetics.

They had made Cassie cry before they even realized who she was. They’d known only the scent of her, Wolf and Coyote mixed. And at that time, Coyote had been a hated scent.

“You pushed in front of her and blacked Josiah’s eye.” He closed his eyes tight as he fought against a wild, impulsive need to tell the men following them to go to hell and lift his weight from her immediately.

“Josiah deserved it.” Her voice was tighter, a hint of a sob, the scent of tears ripping at him.

“Josiah deserved it,” he agreed before turning his head. “Cougar, dammit, tell me we’re in safe territory.”

“They’re still on our f**king asses and that body heat sensor is still active,” Cougar snarled back. “Five more minutes, Nav. She’s not dying, it just f**king hurts.”

The scent of her pain was affecting Cougar as well. The other Breed was hard-core, cold to the pit of his soul where males, human or Breed, were concerned. But he hadn’t quite learned that women were just as strong, and a hell of a lot more dangerous in some cases than any man could ever hope to be.

Women were Cougar’s weakness. Mica was Navarro’s. And it made no sense. She wasn’t his mate.

He’d pushed that limit, tested her response to him; he’d kissed her, and still, the mating hormone hadn’t risen inside him.

“Navarro please . . .” she whispered again, her breathing shallow, the scent of her tears destroying him.

“I can’t breathe.”

The soft heat of an ember that indicated her pain was now beginning to glow brighter, threatening to blossom to a full flame.

“Three more minutes,” Cougar assured him, his voice tighter. “Bastards are still on our asses.”

“I’m going to kill them,” Navarro promised. “Find out who it is, Cougar. They’re dead.”

Mica whimpered beneath him.

Son of a bitch, he hated hurting her.