Immortals After Dark 09 - Pleasure of a Dark Prince

of why interacting with himwas unwise. “Run along, wolf. Or I’ll make you wish you had.”
    “That will no’ be happening, Valkyrie.”
    “Why?” At his determined look, a suspicion arose in her, one so ridiculous it hardly warranted another thought. But she couldn’t shake it. “I’m not… your mate, or anything, right?” She couldn’t be.
    “Nay. Though I might wish it otherwise.”
    Thank the gods for that.
“Then—leave.”
    When he instead drew nearer, she yanked free her bow and nocked an arrow, drawing the string without thought. She aimed straight for his heart, which wouldn’t kill an immortal like him but would put him down for a good while. “Stop right where you are, or I’ll shoot.”
    He didn’t stop right where he was. “You would no’. When I mean you no harm?”
    “This isn’t an idle threat,” she said in a steely tone. His expression turned impatient, as if he couldn’t understand where her caution was coming from. “I
will
shoot you if you come closer.”
    He came closer. So she shot him in the heart. Or four inches to the right, having decided at the last second to vary her aim by a degree.
    The arrow landed in his solid chest, drilling through his muscles until only the flights were visible. “Bluidy hell, woman!” he bellowed, scowling down at his chest.
    In a placid tone, she reminded him, “I told you not to come closer.”
    He fisted the flights, trying to draw the arrow free, but those barbs made it impossible. Reaching around awkwardly, he grated, “Help me get this thing loose!”
    She blinked up at him. “I put the arrows
in
. I don’t take them out.”
    His chin jutted. “You do with me.”
    The corners of her lips quirked, surprising her.
What a wild, mad Lykae.
She schooled her features. “Why would I ever?”
    “Because, Valkyrie”—he started for her again, apparently planning to ignore the arrow in his chest—“by the close of this night we’ll be sharing a bed, and you’ll feel foolish to have shot up your bedmate.”
    With a sigh, she let sail another arrow. “Oh, dear, how
foolish
of me. You were saying?”
    He continued closer. “When I set to kissing those pouting lips of yours—”
    Another arrow sunk into his chest.
    Now three wounds marred his gorgeous body, three trails of blood tracking over the rises and falls of rock-hard muscle. Gritting his teeth, he said, “This hurts like hell, lass, but it’s heartening.”
    “How do you figure?”
    “At fifty times the distance, you dispatched that ko-bold with three arrows to the neck. I’ve earned a trio to the chest. Seems you slapped him while you’re tickling me. You doona want to kill me, which is a good sign. Maybe this is your way of flirting?”
    She sobered once more, reality washing over her. “I’m not flirting—trust me, you’d know.”
Because disaster would be imminent.
Damn it, he kept coming for her.
    “If you’re truly a hunter, you will no’ leave a wolf to suffer. I’ll bet you usually shoot to kill—no’ merely to torment.”
    He had a point. It wasn’t in her nature to torture a being. Unless they had it coming. “Oh, very well. If I help you remove them, will you leave me alone?”
    “Leave you alone? I’d rather bluidy wear them, Valkyrie.”
    With that, he slammed his fist against the end of the first arrow, sending the shaft jutting farther out his back. He reached behind him, now able to just snag the tip. Clenching his jaw, he threaded the arrow through his chest, the flights disappearing beneath the surface of his skin as he pulled it out from his back.
    While she gaped at his resilience, he cast the bloody arrow aside, then started on the next, repeating the process. With each one, the muscles in his body went tense; once the arrow was freed, he groaned and relaxed— somewhat. Almost as if he’d taken sexual release but wasn’t sated.
    A part of her was flattered that he’d rather go through this than receive her help. She could’ve snapped the ends, allowing him to pull them forward, but instead he withstood this pain—because he didn’t want to leave her alone?
    His strength amazed her, his fortitude imposing. That awareness returned, and her skin pricked in the clammy night air.
    When he began removing the last arrow, he advanced on her once more, tearing it free as he stalked closer, barely giving a wince, that determined mien never faltering.
    She took a step back, debated using her one remaining arrow to put him down. She