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neck.
    You are mine.
    But you can never be mine!

     

     

CHAPTER
SIX

     

    Every muscle, every cell in
her body was pulsating and pounding with a frantic, urgent rhythm.
She'd had a taste of his blood. Just one drop. And her worst fear
and nightmare, her deepest want and wish, had come true.
    It was true.
    How could she face this truth?
    Here, standing in front of
her, with his throat proudly pressing against the point of her knife,
was her mate.
    Jett Riley.
    Her trainer, her boss, her
tormentor.
    Her mate!
    Bryn could feel her fangs
throbbing as she stared at the column of Jett's throat. His
blood. Take his blood.
    She clenched her knife harder.
    Her point of her blade was at
his throat. All she had to do was flick her wrist and she would cut
him.
    She would be the first to draw
blood with her blade. She could win this fight.
    Focus. And win! Win this
fight!
    Her mind was beginning to
whirl and she had to squeeze her eyes shut for a moment.
    Why you? Why now?
    She'd had a crush on him for
so long. Charlotte had teased her about it, and dared her to act on
it. And one heady night, she had actually been foolish and brazen
enough to take up the dare.
    She remembered that mortifying
night clearly. How could she forget? She had marched up to him
after a training session and kissed him full on the lips after
everyone had left. And Jett—he didn't push her away. He just
stared down at her, his entire body so tensed and tightly coiled she
thought he was about to snap. He stood utterly still, his eyes
burning into hers.
    And then, without a word, he
just turned and strode away from her.
    Just like that.
    She'd kissed him, and he
hadn't even reacted. He'd just turned away. She hadn't even been
worth a response, a rebuke. It was worse than a slap in the face.
    If he had grabbed her and
shouted, it would have been less insulting, less painful.
    Instead, he had just walked
away, like she was...nothing. She was nothing to him.
    Charlotte had been watching
and giggling from a distance. But her giggles had stopped abruptly.
Charlotte's open-mouthed look of awe and amusement had quickly turned
to one of horror and outrage.
    “ Jerk!” Charlotte
had spat, running up to Bryn's side. “Come on, Bryn, let's go!
Let's go grab a drink. Forget about him!”
    That kiss had been nothing to
him, but it had burned her, branded her. She had always been
attracted to him, but after that kiss, she wanted him with a fierce,
almost unbearable ache.
    That disastrous kiss had
awakened a gnawing, insatiable hunger in her.
    She wanted him and only him.
    But he didn't want her.
    He'd made that clear.
    With her, he was stern, cold
and aloof. But he wasn't like that with everyone. She saw him
laugh, joke, even go out for dinner and drinks with the other
Enforcers. He chose everyone else over her.
    Even tonight, he didn't choose
her. He was going to choose someone else. Again.
    He would never choose her.
    Bryn gulped down another
shuddering breath. She would not cry. Not in front of him. Not
ever.
    Bryn blinked hard and glared
at her shaking knife. It was no use. She couldn't do it. She
couldn't cut him.
    As she was about to lower her
blade, Jett leaned in and tilted his head very slightly. She gasped
but she didn't have time to jerk her knife away. Her blade nicked
the side of his neck.
    She flicked her knife away and
staggered back.
    There was a thin but distinct
line of blood down the side of Jett's neck.
    She had drawn blood.
    Or rather, he had drawn his
blood for her.
    Bryn stepped back, shaking her
head slowly.
    The entire room was silent.
    Bryn sheathed her knife and
turned away.
    “ Bryn,” Jett said,
putting a hand to his neck and glancing down at the blood smearing
his fingers. “You win.”
    Bryn wrapped her arms around
herself and closed her eyes. She couldn't hear him clearly through
the buzz in her ears. The scent of his blood was making her dizzy.
Her body was thrumming and aching. She wanted him, wanted him with a
mindless, maddening