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him.
    Her gaze met his. Magda stared at him,
studying him, and sniffed before moving to sit closer. Once she was
cross-legged again, this time on the same side of the fire as him,
she extended her hand and held the bag of chicken out to him.
    “You will always be able to trust me,” he
told her, hoping she smelled the truth in his words.
    “I don’t know the meaning of trust.”
    He believed her. It was why her dark eyes
didn’t radiate as they should.
    Instead of taking the bag, Ayden grabbed the
breast from her other hand before she was able to stop him. “Allow
me to show you,” he whispered, and held the breast to her mouth so
she could take another bite.
    Magda didn’t take her eyes from his when she
opened her mouth, closed her teeth on the cooked flesh, and ripped
more meat from the bones of the chicken. He’d never enjoyed
watching a female eat before. She swallowed, tore off more meat,
and ate. When she reached to take the breast from his hand, he let
her have it. Then in silence, they ate his kill.
    “Are you full?” he asked when she’d eaten
three pieces and didn’t reach for a fourth.
    “Yes.” She sucked on one finger, then on
another.
    He fought a low possessive growl that
threatened to rise in his throat. She had to know what she was
doing to him by sucking her fingers into her mouth.
    “Thank you,” she murmured, her voice soft,
sated.
    Ayden imagined her sounding that way after he
fucked her. He wouldn’t want her whispered thanks, though. He had
no intention of servicing her for gratitude. He would want her
blissful submission, her limp next to him or possibly draped over
his naked body. Ayden pictured her cheeks rosy pink and her hair
tangled much the way it was now. The only difference would be her
eyes glowing with happiness and his scent embedded in her
flesh.
    “Are you warm?”
    “I am.” She looked at him for the first time
since she started eating. Those dark eyes were still flat.
    Somehow he needed to gain her trust. Since
they started eating he’d grown more comfortable. Ayden reclined on
his side, propped up on his elbow. If he wished, all he’d have to
do was extend a finger and stroke her outer thigh. If he did,
something told him she would leap to the other side of the
fire.
    Possibly she believed now that he wouldn’t
kill her. Magda remained cross-legged. Her back was straight. Other
than the pink hue on her dark cheeks, nothing about her had
changed. Even her scent still reeked of her wariness.
    He wanted to kiss her. More than his next
breath he wanted to taste her. If he wrapped his hand around that
thick mane of long hair and tugged until her face was close to his,
it would be a start to bringing life back into her tattered
soul.
    Magda had been hunted far too long. He wasn’t
sure what compelled him. But he knew his mind was already made up.
This incredible beaute noire would be his, and he would kill
to insure she was never hunted again.
     
     

Chapter Four
     
    Magda woke curled up in the thick sleeping
bag Ayden had left her. She buried her nose in it for a moment,
breathing in his scent. No one had ever treated her the way he had
the night before. No one other than her sire or mother, and they
were both dead.
    She refused to think of her littermates right
now. They had to be safe. She wouldn’t have the strength to get
through the day if she believed otherwise. Magda inhaled again,
filling her lungs with the masculine, compelling scent laced
through the sleeping bag.
    It was enticing, too. A temptation she didn’t
need. If Ayden hadn’t left the night before when he had, she wasn’t
sure what she might have done. When he’d sprawled out along the
fire, he’d been inches from her. Fool that she was, she hadn’t
moved. Ayden was a deadly creature. Every muscle in his body—and
she’d stared at all of them by the end of the night—was proof of
how dangerous he was. Why did danger turn her on? It never had
before.
    She always had the sense to run when