Chapter 6: The Temptation
The tent flap fell shut behind her, cutting off the distant murmur of the pack and the crackle of the main fire. Inside, the world narrowed to the size of a lantern’s glow, soft and wavering, painting everything in gold and deep shadow.
Leonid was stretched out on the piled furs, one arm flung over his eyes. He’d showered, the scent of clean skin and his own specific spice—smoky cedar and cinnamon—filling the space. A single cigarette smoked lazily between his fingers, its ember a tiny, pulsing star. He was shirtless, the lean muscle of his stomach and the dark trail of hair below his navel drawing the eye.Jennie had gone to fetch water from the spring. Only minutes ago.
A different scent, sweet and cloying like rotted flowers, choked the air.Karina was already there. She was on her knees beside him, her body curved into the space Jennie had just vacated. One hand was splayed on Leonid’s bare chest. Her lips were pressed against the side of his neck, not over his mating bite, but perilously close.Leonid’s body was a statue. Every line of him was rigid, his free hand clenched into a fist at his side, the cigarette forgotten, burning.
“She doesn’t have to know,” Karina whispered, her voice a husky, desperate thing against his skin.“It’s just me. It doesn’t mean anything.”
His head turned, just an inch.Dark brown eyes, flat and cold as river stones, looked at her without seeing her. “Get off.”
Before he could move, before he could shove her, the canvas at the entrance whispered again.Jennie stood there.A ceramic water jug dangled from one hand. Her black hair was damp at the temples from the spring’s mist. Her feline eyes took in the scene: the intrusion, the intimate press of Karina’s body, the violation of her space, her scent, her mate.The air in the tent went arctic.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Jennie’s voice was quiet. It was the quiet of a razor held before the cut.Karina flinched, scrambling back as if burned. Her eyes were wide, guilty, but a defiant panic hardened them. “I was just— he was—”
Leonid sat up in one smooth, powerful motion.He didn’t look at Karina. His gaze locked onto Jennie, reading her stillness, the terrifying calm settling over her features. He reached for his cigarette, took a long, deliberate drag, and exhaled the smoke toward the tent’s peak. “She was leaving.”
“Was she?” Jennie asked, her eyes still on Karina.She set the water jug down with a soft, final thud.
“Jennie, please,” Karina babbled, getting to her feet.Her hands fluttered. “It was nothing.He was half-asleep.It’s just… you have everything. You have him.You have every look, every touch.I have nothing. Minho looks at me like I’m a porcelain doll. Kai… Kai looks right through me at you.”
Jennie took a step forward. The lantern light carved the pleased, cruel smile that now touched her lips.“So you thought you’d take what’s mine? As a consolation prize?”
“It’s not like that!”
“It’s exactly like that.” Jennie’s voice dropped to a whisper.“You reek of want. It’s pathetic.”
Leonid finally moved.He stood, unfolding to his full height, his shadow engulfing both women. He looked down at Karina, his expression one of utter, bored disdain.“Go back to Minho. Or run to Kai.I don’t care. If you ever step in here again, you won’t like what happens.”
His threat wasn’t loud.It was matter-of-fact. That made it real.Karina’s bravado shattered. A tear traced through the carefully applied kohl under her eye. She looked from Leonid’s implacable face to Jennie’s eerily smiling one, and the full weight of her mistake crashed down. She had gambled everything and lost in less than a minute. With a choked sound, she pushed past Jennie and fled into the night.
The tent was silent again, save for the soft hiss of the lantern and the distant patter of beginning rain on canvas.Jennie didn’t move. She stared at the spot where Karina had been.
Leonid took a final drag of his cigarette, then crushed the ember against the sole of his boot.He walked to her, the furs soft under his feet. He stopped right in front of her, his warmth radiating.He didn’t touch her.Not yet.
“She touched you,” Jennie said, the words hollow.
“Briefly.”
“Her mouth was on you.” Her gaze lifted to his neck, where the ghost of Karina’s kiss seemed to sear her vision.“It was.” He didn’t apologize. He didn’t explain.He simply acknowledged the fact. “It meant less than nothing.”
The rigidity bled from Jennie’s shoulders.A tremor took its place. The icy rage melted, revealing the raw, shaky hurt beneath.The psychotic fury was for outsiders. For him, there was only this vulnerable, all-consuming need.Leonid saw it.He always did. He closed the last inch between them, his hands coming up to cradle her face.His thumbs stroked her cheekbones. “Look at me.”
She did.Her dark eyes were shiny with unshed tears, her pupils blown wide.
“You are the only thing in this world that is mine,” he said, his voice low and gruff.“You are the only scent I want on my skin. The only teeth I want in my neck.” He leaned his forehead against hers. “You know that.”
A single tear escaped, tracking down her cheek.He caught it with his thumb.She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering shut. “I wanted to hurt her,” Jennie whispered.
“I know.”
“I still do.”
He didn’t answer that.Instead, he bent and captured her mouth with his. It wasn’t a gentle kiss.It was claiming, possessive, a reconsecration. His tongue swept into her mouth, tasting of smoke and him. She moaned into it, her hands flying up to grip his bare shoulders, her fingers digging into the hard muscle.
He broke the kiss, his breath hot against her lips.“She’s gone. This is us.”
He guided her hand down, past the waistband of his sweats, his eyes never leaving hers. He pressed her palm firmly against him, against his hardness, and lower, to the coarse hair and the full, vulnerable weight beneath. His breath hitched, a rare sign of his own unraveling.“This is yours. Only yours.You feel that?”
She did. A violent, possessive joy surged through her, burning out the last of the hurt.She squeezed gently, and he groaned, his head falling back.
Outside, the rain fell harder, a steady drumbeat on the canvas. The pack would be moving to their own tents, whispering about Karina’s tear-streaked face, feeling the electric aftermath of the confrontation.
But inside, there was only this: the rustle of clothes falling away, the heat of skin on skin, the soft sounds ripped from their throats. Jennie’s bite on his shoulder, not to mark, but to feel him tense and surge into her. Leonid’s murmured curses against her throat, his hips moving in a rhythm that was both worship and punishment.
Later, spent and tangled, Jennie lay with her head on his chest, listening to the strong, steady beat of his heart.His fingers traced idle patterns on her bare back.
“I’ll take care of Karina,” he said into the darkness, his voice already thick with approaching sleep.
“No,” Jennie murmured, a smile in her voice.She nuzzled his mating bite. “Let me.”
He was silent for a moment. Then a soft huff of air, almost a laugh, shook his chest. “Alright.”
She closed her eyes, the scent of their joining, of him, of clean rain soaking the earth, filling her senses. The lantern guttered and went out, plunging them into perfect, shared darkness. Outside, the pack slept on, unaware of the precise, delicious reckoning taking shape in the omega’s unquiet mind.