Stryker (Boys of Wynter Book 1)

by Tess Oliver

  "Danique?" I asked.

  "She's Nessa’s granddaughter," Flint added. "She grew up with us. She was two years younger. Shit, we teased her so bad. Always felt a little guilty about that, especially after that night." Flint looked down at this feet in the sand, and it seemed all of them had returned to a profound memory, a night that must have affected them all. No one elaborated and I decided it wasn't my place to ask.

  Maximus broke the silence. "Danique had a monstrous crush on Wilder. He pretended not to notice or care, but there was a little crushing coming from his side too."

  "Maybe you hit that thick head of yours on the rocks after all." Wilder stood up and brushed off the sand.

  "Hey, did you guys hear that Nessa was sick?" Stryker's question pulled everyone's attention toward him. "Feenix told me when—" He glimpsed my direction and then seemed to change his stream of thought. "When I saw him last. Have you guys heard anything?"

  Flint shook his head. "Not a word."

  "Feenix was probably just trying to throw you off guard. Think I'm done toasting out here. I'm going to head over to the Seven Sins for some beer before work." Wilder looked over at Stryker. "Why don't you take the night off? We've got this. You've got better things to occupy your time than wraith hunting." He winked at me. "Besides, you're still recovering."

  Stryker put his arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer. "I think I'll take you up on that suggestion. "

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Stryker

  On Willow's suggestion, we had carried my small kitchen table outside to eat a candlelight dinner. After two days on the coast, she realized that she had missed out on a lot of scenery. The endless white snow landscape had given her a monotonous view of the world. It seemed she couldn't get enough of the beach.

  The setting was exotic and the candles, two I'd had for emergency power outages, worked hard to stay lit in the relentless breeze. But the dinner fare was a little less romantic, just fried chicken from a bucket.

  Willow had braided her long hair back, highlighting the symmetry of her face. She'd pulled on a white sweater, which contrasted perfectly with her honey-toned skin.

  I couldn't get enough of her. I wasn't sure I'd ever get enough. We'd spent all morning in bed and had taken a walk on the beach. By the time we were back in the house, we were ripping each other's clothes off again. The guys had been cool enough to give me time off to rest, but it seemed I was going to be heading back to work without an ounce of energy left. And yet I was sitting there with her, with a wobbly table and a bucket of chicken separating us, and all I could think about was having her naked in my arms.

  "What's it like in Wynter?" Willow asked unexpectedly. It caught me off guard. The thought of Wynter and the underworld and Feenix cooled my dirty thoughts for the time being. We had spent two amazing days together, and we'd successfully avoided the topic of Feenix.

  I picked up my beer. "You've never been to the underworld?"

  She looked almost insulted by the question. "Why and when would I have been invited into the underworld? I know there are some nymphs that live there, in Feenix's lair, but I've never been myself. Is it as awful as I imagine?"

  I stared at her across the table. "It's everything that you aren't, Willow. In fact, now that I have you in my life, the underworld is going to look even more grim. Now that I know what pure light and beauty look like, Wynter is going to look even worse."

  Her face dropped, and she picked at the napkin under her plate. "Do the archangels ever go there?"

  "I can't think that I've ever seen anyone from the angel's realm in Wynter or the underworld."

  She sat back with glassy eyes. "Maybe he didn't know then."

  "Who?"

  "My father. Maybe he didn't realize just how awful it was when he promised me to Feenix."

  I nodded. "Maybe." I had been so thrown off by what Feenix had told me, I'd never considered how painful it would be for Willow to discover that her own father, an archangel no less, had promised her to Feenix, a creature so vile he wouldn't be able to step foot in the angel's realm without bursting into flames.

  I reached across and lifted her hand. I pushed back the sleeve of her sweater and kissed her angel's mark. "Let's go inside. The fog is rolling in." I blew out the candles and picked up the wine and our glasses.

  My job had given me the skill of hearing the slightest misplaced sound, and a noise that was mostly a rush of air pulled my attention back to the beach. The silhouette coming in through the fog was made even more ghostly by the thick mist swirling around it. My preternatural senses told me the figure was not menacing or here to harm, but I took the precaution of moving Willow behind me. She had not seen or heard the approaching figure and mistook my actions for flirting.

  "I thought we'd at least make it inside the house." She hopped up on her tiptoes and kissed the side of my neck. As she drew her mouth away, a gasp followed. She stepped back and dropped her hands away from me. "Sabre, you're here."

  Sabre lowered the hood from her silver tresses and crossed her long arms as she took a moment to assure me that she disapproved of everything about me. Angels always had a great disdain for anyone associated with the underworld, which made sense, except that technically I'd been forced into working in that lowly place. I wasn't exactly a friend to the creatures that dwelled there either. But that was never considered by the high and mighty. They painted us all with a broad, ignorant brush stroke. I could see in the crooked tilt of her mouth that she was extremely angry that I was standing on the beach with one of her angels.

  Willow stepped around next to me, crossing her arms too, but more from being nervous than angry.

  "Willow," Sabre could not have said the soft, flowing name more sharply if she'd said it while throwing knives. "Why did you not wait for me? I told you I would speak to your father and then return with a plan."

  "Paygon had nearly reached me. I saw him riding his horse in the valley below the cabin. I couldn't wait for you to return."

  Sabre took every opportunity to shower me with a disgusted glower. I returned a look reminding her that she had no power over me and that I could give a fuck what she thought of me. The only thing I cared about was Willow. As far as I was concerned, Sabre had failed when it came to keeping this particular angel safe.

  "Don't you think her father has already made enough bad decisions?"

  Sabre's pale, white skin didn't change color, but I could see the rage in her eyes. "How dare you question his authority? Especially you, a disreputable, lascivious rake who spends his days—"

  "Risking his life to keep the mortal world safe." Willow stepped forward. "He's right. My father has done enough. He's been working my whole life to deny my existence. Well, tell him he has his wish. To him, I no longer exist. I'm no longer your worry either, Sabre. I will find my own way in life. I don't belong in your realm or in the nymph's meadow. So, just like Jemma, you can leave me to fend for myself in the mortal world. My mixed blood makes me mortal. I will age and die just like a human, so I will have no problem living amongst them."

  "Don't be ridiculous, Willow. Now get your things and we'll be off."

  "No, you're not my mother. In fact, you are just a messenger for my father. And since I no longer exist to him, your services are no longer needed."

  Sabre's eyes nearly glowed with anger. I waited for them to pop out of her head at any second. "This—this—" she turned her pointed chin at me.

  "Stryker," I said plainly. "That's my name. And you are standing on my property, so maybe you should flutter off or evaporate or whatever magical thing you angels do to travel from place to place."

  Sabre stepped closer. I had to give her credit. She had no fear. Of course, she had immortality on her side. "You can't keep her safe."

  "Seems to me you weren't doing a great job of that either."

  "Because of you. Willow was doing fine on the mountain until you ended up half dead on her doorstep. I will never forgive myself for sending her that antid
ote. Of course, I had no idea which manner of creature she was trying to save."

  "He's not a creature." Willow's voice wavered. "He guards this world from monsters. That was what he was doing when he nearly died. You think the guardian angels are the only beings keeping order amongst the mortals, but you are wrong. In fact, I think that angers you more than anything, that Stryker and his pack mates do more to keep humans safe than guardian angels."

  I reached over and took hold of Willow's hand. She curled her fingers around mine. Her last words seemed to be the final straw for Sabre. I was sure I even saw the red of rage climb up above the collar of her white cloak. "Then I will tell your father you are dead."

  Willow's hand tightened around mine at the words. But she lifted her chin as she spoke. "That's fine."

  I looked at Willow and then at Sabre. "That's it. That's the answer to the problem. Sabre, get the word out that Willow is dead and make sure it gets to the underworld. Feenix will hear that she's dead, and that will put an end to his quest."

  Sabre shook her head. "As dark and lowly as his powers are, you will not be able to keep up that lie for long."

  "But it will give us some time."

  Sabre looked questioningly at Willow one more time. "You're certain that you want to stay here?"

  "I am."

  "And I thought you had more sense than your mother. I was sure you'd never allow yourself to be taken in by a handsome face and a strong pair of arms."

  Willow dropped my hand but then wrapped her arms around mine. "I guess we all have our breaking point."

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Willow

  I doubled checked out the window. Sabre was gone. I was relieved and at the same time slightly worried that I'd just broken ties with her and every part of the world I once knew.

  Stryker put the wine glasses and bottle on the counter and joined me at the window. He pressed his chest against my back. His arms circled around me as he kissed the side of my neck.

  "Hmm, you should always wear your hair back. It gives me instant access to this perfect curve on your neck." He kissed me again, and it sent a shiver of delight down my back.

  "Stryker, I don't expect you to take me in. I declared my independence out there, but I don't want you to think that I'm your burden now. I know you have a busy life and—"

  He turned me in his arms. There was enough hurt in his eyes that I knew I'd said the wrong thing. He kissed my lips. I would never meet a man again who looked at me the way Stryker did. That both thrilled and terrified me. It terrified me to think that someday he might no longer look at me with that same intense gaze.

  "Marry me, Willow."

  I stared back at him and squinted one eye in an attempt to see something in his face that would let me know he was serious.

  He pulled me closer. "I mean it. It is the best solution for the Feenix problem. Sabre was right. Eventually, Feenix will know that you aren't really dead, and he'll send his brother for you again. We will constantly be looking over our shoulders. But if you are my wife, there is nothing more Feenix can do."

  "The best solution? I don't want to be married because it solves a problem. I want to be married because there is so much love between us that it spills over into everything we do and say. I want to be married because neither of us can think of anyone else. So much so that when we aren't physically together, the pain of being separated is almost unbearable. That's marriage."

  "I do feel that way, Willow. I'm just not nearly as good at putting it in words as you. Having you here makes the thought of not having you here unbearable."

  I slipped out from his arms, realizing that they were making it much harder for me to make my case. "But you hardly know me. I have annoying habits—like I'm obsessed about flossing my teeth. I have to do it morning and night. And I have to read to fall asleep."

  He lifted his brow. "Uh, not true anymore. I think we've found something else that makes you sleepy. And I can endure the dental floss obsession if you can endure me coming home with wraith blood and the oily sludge of Wynter on my boots. And those are the easy things to endure."

  Stryker took hold of my hand. "And just think of the benefits." He led me down the hallway and into his bedroom. He pulled me into his arms and kissed me. "Days and nights of this."

  I'd hardly drawn a breath and Stryker had me naked. He circled around to my side and dropped to his knees. His hot kisses trailed along the silver nymph's tattoo as he pressed his hand between my thighs. I held on to him, needing the support of his strong body as his fingers curled through the moisture pooling in my pussy. His feral growl, a sound that always sent a shiver through me, rumbled against my skin.

  He pulled his mouth from me and stared up at me with a wolfish glow in his eyes as he fingered me close to orgasm. He already knew every inch of me. He knew just what to do to bring me to the height of arousal. He knew just what to do to make me cry out in pleasure.

  He watched me now, with an intensity that both excited and frightened me. I knew he had reached that point of no return. There was no turning back. His thumb strummed along my clit as he impaled me with his fingers, drawing out more and more liquid heat.

  I closed my eyes. The blush of ecstasy began to warm my body as my pussy tightened for release. Then he withdrew his hand. My eyes opened. I nearly fell forward in disappointment.

  He straightened and a teasing smile tilted his lips.

  I pounded my fist once against his chest. He rubbed it and laughed. "You don't like that? But I'm just getting started." His mouth came close to mine. My lips parted in anticipation, but he didn't kiss me. "And I promise an amazing fucking ending."

  His hands roughly took hold of my waist, and he lifted me and tossed me onto the bed. I fell back and pushed up to my elbows, making sure to cast him my angriest glare.

  He stood over me like a massively built warrior, looking as dangerous as he looked hot. He yanked off his shirt, kicked out of his pants and rolled on a condom. I had been brought to the edge of climax and then denied an ending, and I wasn't going to waste another second. I reached for his erect cock, but he pulled back out of reach.

  He waved a finger at me. "Uh uh uh, this is my game, and you are just here for the fun."

  He reached down and yanked my feet closer to the end of the bed. I gasped, pretending to be offended, but in truth, it only made me more excited. Stryker splayed my thighs wide and licked his lips as he stared down at my fully exposed pussy. The entire bed shifted under his weight as he knelt on the mattress and lowered his face between my spread thighs. His mouth and tongue devoured me as his hands swept beneath my ass to lift me harder against the heat of his mouth and the tantalizing friction of his beard. His skills brought me instantly back to that glorious moment in time when my body was just about to charge head long into an explosion of ecstasy.

  I clutched at the sheets. "Yes, yes!"

  But before I could roll off the cliff, he pulled his mouth and hands free. I cried out and reached down to pound his shoulders. "What are you doing?"

  He peered up over the mound of my pussy. There was a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes that made me both want to punch him and kiss him. "So your game was to torture me?"

  "Hey, my diamond angel, is this really torture?" Once again, he lowered his mouth to my pussy. His tongue lathed between the folds as his finger impaled me. He rocked his entire body against me to simulate his thrusts. Oh, how badly I wanted those thrusts now. How badly I wanted him pounding into me with his cock. That was it, I thought in my haze. That was his game. And I was starting to love it.

  This time, as he brought me closer to climax, I reached down and tangled my fingers in his hair, holding his face against me. "I need you, Stryker, please."

  He lifted his mouth away from me, and I tugged at his hair to bring him forward. His body covered mine, and he settled between my legs. He stroked the side of my face as he gazed down at me. "Say that again, Willow. Tell me that you need me."

  I peered up at him.
"I need you, Stryker."

  "And I need you, angel." As he kissed me, he pushed inside of me. I came instantly in long, undulating waves of pleasure. And as my pussy tightened around him, a low growl rolled up from his chest and he came.

  As the shuddering vibrations left our bodies, a quiet calm filled the air. Outside, the ocean continued its relentless battering of the shore and the rocks. It was a comforting sound, a sound I could easily grow used to. Just like the sound of Stryker's heartbeat.

  He rolled off of me and pulled me into his arms. "See, I think we could make each other very happy in every sense of the word."

  "I will think about it."

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Willow

  After reminding Stryker a hundred times that I had just spent two years, virtually alone, in the harshest climate and had come out of it unscathed and alive, he finally left for work. He'd reasoned out that Paygon would have to pass through Wynter to step into the mortal world. With the four of them on patrol, there was no way the big oaf would slip past them unnoticed. Unfortunately, there were a lot of holes in his reasoning, like the possibility that Paygon was already out somewhere in the mortal world. But Stryker had dragged himself out to his motorcycle to begin his shift.

  He'd made me promise that I wouldn't step out of the house, which I promptly pointed out was a little impossible considering my pet fox would eventually need to relieve himself. But I assured him I would stay close to the beach cottage and only stay out for as long as it took Gunner to do his thing.

  After heating a can of soup, I decided to curl up on the couch with a book. It would be much harder to sleep soundly without Stryker's arms wrapped around me. We'd had several incredible days together, falling in and out of bed, laughing about everything and telling stories about our lives. He hadn't brought up his proposal again. I knew he was waiting for me to decide.