Linden hadn’t talked much in the past three days, and she looked exhausted. Her long hair hung limply in waves, and sadness filled her open, gray eyes. She nursed a mug of coffee, the twin to the one that warmed her own hands.
“Has he talked to you yet?” Meredith asked.
Linden’s gaze pulled to her mate who stood with his back to them near the pond. Sunset lit the waves and thrust his frame into shadows.
“Not really. I know we can’t stay here forever, but I don’t know what else to do.” Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Tristan has been covering all of his bodyguard shifts so he can keep his job but Graham isn’t ready to be around other people yet.”
“Tristan said they’re going to do his alpha initiation on Friday.”
Linden shook her head slowly. “He’ll throw our pack into chaos.”
“Can’t someone else step in until he gets better?”
“I asked. It doesn’t work that way,” Linden said, setting her mug on the table to wrap the blanket tighter around her shoulders. “I miss him, Mere,” she admitted in a ragged whisper. “I keep telling myself he’ll come back, but what if he doesn’t? What if I do everything, give him all of me, and he isn’t ever able to love me again?”
Scooting closer, Meredith wrapped an arm around the girl who’d been more sister than friend. She wished she could leech her pain away. Linden had weathered so much already and watching her lose Graham was torture. It was as if she was watching Linden fight for her life all over again.
Linden leaned her head against Meredith’s shoulder and she rested her cheek against the top of it. How badly she wanted something life altering to say. The gift of a few words to ease Linden’s heavy heart, but she withered under Graham’s silver gaze.
She uttered her wish instead. “He’ll come back.”
Chapter Fourteen
Linden leaned against the frame of the bedroom door and watched Graham’s reflection in the mirror as he readied for bed. The scars of his struggles were crimson and angry against his skin, and his muscles rippled and flexed as he unbuttoned his jeans.
“When you said bonding to me would be my punishment, what did you mean by that?” she asked.
He probably wouldn’t answer. Few words fell from his mouth these days.
“I wanted you to sicken like I had at the hands of someone you felt connected to. I wanted you to want me and be denied by me. I wanted you to suffer.”
“And does it make you feel better? That I suffer?”
This was usually where he offered her an empty smile and walked away.
“No.” Searching her face, he lowered his chin. “It hurts.” The admission sounded strained, as if it the words hurt to say them.
She crawled onto the bed and splayed her knees until she was eye level with him. Gathering her courage, she touched the side of his jaw with the tip of her finger. “Is he in there?”
The roughness of his unshaven jaw contrasted against smoothness of her palm as he leaned into her hand. He nodded. “He’s still too weak though.”
Heart thundering, hope bloomed in her, wider and bigger until surely she’d fracture from it. “Can I see him?”
His dark eyebrows drew down and he ran a hand up her arm, stopping when it rested against her knuckles. “If he comes back, will you care for me less?”
She searched his eyes, afraid he was taunting her, but emotion swam in his expression for the first time since he’d taken vengeance on his alpha. “You are part of him. The part that makes him strong and brave. Loyal to me. Protective of me. When he comes back, I’ll still love all of you.”
His hands slid to her waist, gripped the fabric of her shirt and he grimaced and lowered his head. When he lifted his gaze back to hers, his eyes were clear, blue, and human. “I love you too,” he whispered, just before his eyes clouded with silver once more.
It was enough.
Resting her forehead against his, she closed her eyes and smiled as his arms slid around her. Justice had been served to Ned for all of his treachery. The wolves in the forest graveyard had been avenged, and when Graham was ready, he’d lead the pack with her by his side.
But more important than all of that was that he existed. As long as he still remained of this earth, her heart was whole and filled with hope. The world didn’t have to mourn the loss of a good man taken too early by the betrayal of others.
He’d brushed death to protect her. Suffered to keep her safe, and she had fought with everything she had to bring him back.
Graham pulled her into a slow embrace—one that loosened every last lingering fear. She fit perfectly into the crook of his arms, like he’d been created to hold her.
She had kept her oath and gave him time, just as he’d gifted to her.
They had saved each other.
SLIP THE SKIN
LEGACY
(A LYCAN NOVELLA, BOOK 3)
By TERA SHANLEY
Prologue
Thank goodness Linden Ashby had been peppered with silver shot during the winter season.
She narrowed her eyes at her reflection in the full length mirror. She stood gaunt against the beige color of Tristan’s guest room, dressed in jeans and a black, lacey bra and nothing more. The edges of the smattering of wounds on her shoulder were still dark and charred looking, as if she’d rolled in embers. As a rule, she wasn’t overly vain, but trying to explain the injuries in the tank tops of summer would’ve been difficult.
I’m a werewolf and my own alpha pulled the trigger of a sawed off shotgun loaded with silver filled shells to try and kill me as an excuse probably wouldn’t go well with the general population of New York.
Today was going to be scary at best. Sighing, she flung herself backward and landed with an oof on the bed. The ceiling fan swirled lazily above her, and she followed it with her gaze until she was dizzy. Rolling to her side and wincing at the pull of wounded flesh, she tugged at a loose thread on the caramel colored bedspread.
Graham wasn’t ready.
He could barely function as a human, much less keep control long enough to hold an entire pack. Granted, the pack had dwindled in light of Ned, the previous alpha’s, betrayal, but still—her mate needed more time to recover from being cradled in death’s cold grasp.
“What are you thinking?” a deep, penetrating voice said. Graham leaned on the frame of the door with a puzzled frown, like he couldn’t figure her out.
If she lived to be a hundred, she would never get over the physical effect he had on her. His human form was precious. Last week, she thought she would never see him again.
Churning silver eyes studied her, and dark eyebrows that animated at every emotion drew down as if he were concerned. Also precious. Before two days ago, he had been a wolf living in a human body, a change forced by her in desperation to save the man she loved. A tight, sterling sweater clung to the expanse of his shoulders, strained against the fabric as if even his body cried out to rid itself of human garments. His dark hair was mussed in a sexy tostle that said I don’t care and I do all at once. A dimple nestled into his cheek as a wicked smile crooked his masculine lips.
“If you keep looking at me like that,” he said, “we’re going to be late to the alpha initiation.”
The smoky hues in his eyes grew darker, and the smile dipped from his face. All right, if he kept looking at her like that, they wouldn’t make it to the damned meeting at all.
“I was thinking about what is going to happen to the pack.” Nothing killed the mood like talk of the future. Every decision was a shadow on their lives right now.
“We’ll get through it,” he rumbled as he lay beside her.
“How?”
His long fingers raked through her hair as he sighed. “Don’t know that, Linden. But I won’t let it be me who drags us all down. Trust me more. I know I haven’t given you a reason to lately, but the human me is in here, too. He’ll get stronger and we’ll do this together.” His gaze dropped to her injured shoulder and his nostrils fla
red. Abruptly, he sat up on the edge of the bed and dropped his head in his hands. “I’d kill Ned a hundred times over for pulling that trigger on you.” His silver gaze met hers. “Being human would’ve slowed me down that day. I know you don’t feel the same, but it’s better that I’m this way. At least for now.”
She worried the hem of his sweater until her fingertips brushed the taut skin of his back. “I never thought I’d see you like this again,” she whispered raggedly. “No matter how long it takes for you to come back to me, I’ll wait. Everything that has happened is worth it to me.”
Leaning over, he cupped her head and kissed the top of her hair. Moments passed as his lips pressed on, and she closed her eyes as the bond she shared with him relaxed. When he released her, a sky blue gaze held her. “Me too,” he whispered.
Graham. He was alive and growing stronger despite being run through with silver bullets. His wolf was in control now, but someday, he would be whole again. A smile so big it hurt cracked her face, and she stroked the sharp angle of his jaw. God, she breathed to see the color of the ocean in his eyes.
In a move so fast it stole her breath, he pulled her onto his lap. Relaxing into the straddle, she linked her fingers around the nape of his neck and rocked forward. The blue in his eyes remained. “I love you,” she rushed, before she lost him again.
Too late for the sentiment, the swirling mercury of his inhuman gaze returned. When his wolf was in control, Graham no longer understood such declarations. He was, however, getting much better at showing he cared in his own way.
With a gentle tug, he intertwined his fingers in her dark tresses and pulled until her neck was exposed. Against the tripping pulse near her collar bone, he rumbled, “I’ve been a good alpha to you lately, haven’t I?”
He’d ignored her for the first few days and scared her often enough. “Well—”
His lips, kneading and tugging across her collar bone, created a trail of warmth, rendering all thoughts of denial mute. Shrugging off the last of her verbal weapons, he grazed sharpening teeth gently against the lobe of her ear.
“Graham,” she groaned, pulling back before she lost all coherent thought. “This can’t be your solution for everything. And furthermore, you can’t exactly seduce a gang of tattooed, knife-wielding, biking werewolves into saying you are a good alpha whenever you need your ego stroked.”
“Mmm, stroked,” he murmured, pulling her hips against his.
She gasped as he spun her onto the bed and ripped her jeans down her legs in one smooth movement. Gads, he was strong, and his smoldering eyes made her stomach clench with anticipation. Lifting up on her elbows, she kissed him as he shucked his pants, and his tongue made long strokes against hers as he aligned their hips.
Instinctively, she spread her knees wider as he bucked a shallow thrust into her. It wasn’t enough, and from the challenging set to Graham’s mouth, he knew what a tease he was being. Beg me, his smug expression practically demanded.
“Please.”
With a low growl, he thrust into her.
Gripping her hair, and forcing her to look at him, his hips crashed against hers, over and over as the muscles in his arms and stomach tensed and flexed. She felt like she was floating, and grabbed his wrists to anchor herself. Arching against him to meet each deep penetration, her release crashed through her, and she panted his name. Swollen with desire, Graham pressed into her faster, and his eyes rolled back in his head as his throbbing heat shot into her.
Sated, she relaxed into the plush mattress as he released his grip on her hair and lay tangled with her. Minutes drifted by as she traced the indentations of the taut muscles on his back.
“We’re going to be late to your own initiation,” she said.
“I don’t care.”
“That’s the problem,” she whispered, brushing her lips against his jaw.
Chapter One
“Come on, Linden,” Meredith muttered as she hung up on her best friend’s cheery voicemail. Three times she’d called, and three times her call had been ignored.
The lighting in the bathroom was all wrong to pick an outfit, but it was the only one that gave her a full length view of herself. “Purple or green,” she mused, holding up an emerald colored sweater. The color matched Tristan’s eyes.
Purple it was.
What did one wear to a werewolf alpha initiation ceremony anyway? Surely not a dress. It was being held at a bar, and not a ritzy one. The type of bar with ten Harleys lined up out front at any given time, and wooden walls adorned with various stuffed moose and bobcats. But Tristan would be there, and even though he’d gone out of his way to avoid her ever since Ned’s death, pride encouraged her to at least look nice for the man.
Gah, what was wrong with her? He’d probably thought about her zero times in the last week, and she couldn’t get her mind off of the damned tattoo that encircled his shoulder and part of his torso. That man was fine. Graham was hot, but Tristan, with his shoulder length hair and the physique of a professional wood chopper, had that dangerously sexy edge.
And dangerous was exactly right. The man had started turning into a freaking werewolf right in front of her. Frowning at her forearms, still torn up from the realization that nightmares existed, she inhaled a long and calming breath. He was right not to call her. Nothing but desolation and disaster would come of spending time with him.
The black tank top hugged her curves and when she pulled the sheer purple lace sweater over her head, the fabric pulled at her wounds. “Beauty is pain,” she muttered, adjusting the shirt.
Outside, it took a while to get her old Honda civic warmed up. If she lived in the city, she wouldn’t have needed a car. But she had chosen to rent a one bedroom in Maplewood where she and Linden had grown up, and where her parents still lived. The commute to work was hell, but her hours started earlier in the morning, so traffic wasn’t that bad.
Exhaust fumes floated the breeze behind her as the car tried to warm against the New York winter, and she shifted to drive and pulled out of the parking space. Careful to avoid the icy patches, she hit the highway. The trip to New Paltz was long, but she’d been making it often to visit Linden and Graham. They stayed at Tristan’s house to escape the city during Graham’s recovery and Tristan stayed—well, she didn’t know where he was staying. Only that he was covering both his and Graham’s bodyguard shifts.
Two more layers of hotness. A bodyguard for New York’s elite, and a loyal friend.
When she pulled into the gravel parking lot of Ned’s Bar, it was ten past the hour and she muttered an oath as she threw the car in park. Leave it to the one human to make a late entrance.
Double timing her step, she pulled the door open just as the wind caught it and threw it against the outer wall with a tremendous crash.
Heat rushed to her cheeks as she wrestled the wooden opponent back into place. When she turned around, every person in the joint stared at her.
“Hi,” she said, focusing on Linden’s welcoming smile. “Sorry I’m late.”
Graham leaned against the bar top with a look in his inhuman eyes that screamed he’d like nothing better than to eat her, and Little Frankie, Barret, Dan, Wayne, Cesar, and the three men who’d showed up the day Ned died had identical what-the-hell looks on their faces. Tristan’s expression was grim and his jaw clenched like he’d just swallowed a curse. Even angry, he was intoxicating.
Wood screeched against wood as Tristan scooted his chair away from the bar. His long strides echoed off the walls, and she held a frightened squeak firmly in her throat as he leaned over her.
“Can I…help you?” Her voice hit high notes she didn’t know she could.
“What’re you doing here?”
She leaned around his powerful torso to peek at the other wolves, who spoke softly among themselves. The scent of him, shaving cream and the alluring smell of underlying animal pulled her forward an involuntary step.
“Stop sniffing me,” Tristan growled. “You need to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere. You were the one who told me Linden needed me through this insane time she’s going through, so here I am. And besides, Linden herself invited me, and since she’s first lady of this little band of furry miscreants, I’m pretty sure her invite is the golden freaking ticket. So move.”
His lips had clenched into an angry line, in an expression that seemed completely at odds with his face. “Meredith, this is different. It’s werewolves only for this meeting.”
“Prejudice is very unbecoming on you, Tristan,” she murmured as she skirted around him. Plopping on his chair, she wiggled her middle finger behind her back like a worm and smiled warmly at Graham. “Sorry I’m late. It won’t happen again.”
Barret raised two meaty fingers. When Graham nodded at him, he said, “Ned had strict rules about not telling humans about us. And even though he broke his own oath, the rules served us well in the years he ran us. What are you going to do about Tristan telling this one about what we are?”
Graham slid and empty gaze to Tristan, who’d taken a place leaning against the wall. The shadows did a decent job of hiding his face, but for an instant, she swore she could see somber acceptance in his eyes.
Heart pounding, she raised her hand. Oh, she knew what Ned had done to Graham the day he turned Linden. It was horrible and barbaric and the thought of Tristan on his knees under the blows of a whip made her mouth go dryer than a cotton ball. She couldn’t stand the thought of Tristan enduring the same.
“What?” Graham growled out
“I just wanted to say that I didn’t give him a choice. I walked into Ned’s house, on my own accord, when you were in the cage. And then I wouldn’t quit hounding Tristan to tell me the truth. I even threatened to call the cops.”
“Mere,” Linden warned as the rumble of angry voices filled the room.
“Please,” she continued in a shaking voice. “If you punish anyone, punish me. But know that I’d die before I ever uttered a word about what you are. Linden is like a sister to me. I would never do anything to hurt her.” Or Tristan, but she’d eat a worm before she admitted that little gem out loud.
Slip the Skin Page 10
