Claimed By The Ruthless Lycan Warlord

The cold was killing her. The drug was burning her alive. Areli shuddered, her body convulsing in the icy water.

Hudson watched her, his jaw clenched so tight it looked like it would break. He thought she was just freezing. Through the haze of his fading madness, he spotted Doyle on the bank, stripped of his own dry outer layer. With a grunt of effort, Hudson snatched the dry hide from Doyle's outstretched hand and threw it at her.

The heavy fabric smacked her in the face. Areli sputtered, grabbing it. The hide smelled like him—pine, smoke, and pure, unadulterated Alpha pheromones.

The scent hit her like a drug. Which, technically, it was, given the aphrodisiac already in her system. A moan slipped past her lips before she could stop it. Her knees buckled.

Hudson took a step forward, instinct driving him to catch her. Then he stopped, his hand gripping a submerged rock so hard the stone cracked.

"Don't come closer!" Areli gasped, clutching the hide to her chest. "Stay back!"

"I'm losing control," he growled, his eyes flashing red again. "Run... if you still can."

Run? Where? She could barely stand. And the fire inside her was demanding an outlet.

She was a modern woman. A pragmatist. If she was going to die, it wouldn't be cowering in a river.

She looked him dead in the eye. "I will help you. Not because I'm forced, but because I choose to survive."

Hudson froze. The raw determination in her voice pierced the fog of his madness. The red in his eyes flickered, replaced by shock.

Areli forced her legs to move. Step by agonizing step, she waded through the freezing water toward him. Every inch closer amplified the magnetic pull between them. The water around them began to steam.

She stopped in front of him. He towered over her, his chest heaving, his muscles rigid with restraint.

She reached out. Her trembling hand pressed flat against his burning chest.

The contact was a spark to powder. Hudson let out a roar. His control snapped.

He grabbed her, pulling her flush against him. He pinned her against a boulder, his mouth crashing down on hers.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a claim. Rough, desperate, and consuming.

Areli didn't fight. She wrapped her arms around his neck, matching his intensity. She focused her mind, relying not on some mystical force, but on her deep understanding of biochemistry. She didn't know exactly how energy worked in this world, but she knew how bodies processed alkaloids. She imagined the toxin as heavy macromolecular proteins, utilizing the extreme temperature differential between the freezing river and their burning skin to force a rapid physiological flush. She guided the rhythm of their breathing, regulating his erratic pulse with her own, coaxing his hyperactive circulatory system to filter and expel the foreign substance through their intense physical connection.

The cold water lapped at their skin, but the heat between them was a furnace. The purple veins on his neck began to fade. The poison was draining.

The world narrowed to the feel of his hands, the taste of his lips, and the primal rhythm of their bodies moving together in the dark water.

When it was over, Hudson's breathing was ragged but steady. The red was gone from his eyes. The poison was gone.

Areli slumped against him, utterly spent. The last thing she felt was his strong arms wrapping around her, pulling her close, before the darkness took her again.