by T. S. Joyce
“Really? Because he seemed real put-off that I’m a Bloodrunner.”
“He’s put off by all dragons. Did he send you?”
“He told me where you live, yes.”
Wyatt winced. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”
“You’d rather bleed out for some vampire’s entertainment than see me again?” She tried to sound strong, but the bitterness crept into her tone. “Why are you here, Wyatt?”
“What do you mean? I live here.”
“Not here in this house. Why are you across the entire damned country from Damon’s mountains? Why don’t you have a crew under you? Why are you some coven’s chew toy?”
“I told you I wasn’t ready for you to see me yet!”
“Well now I can’t leave!”
“You can and you will.”
Harper blinked back the burning sensation in her eyes. “And leave you alone and vulnerable to a coven?”
“It was my choice, and I’m not alone. I have Kane.”
“And where the fuck is he tonight? Huh, Wyatt? Where’s your friend?”
“You don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
“You have a fucking dragon here, and yet I come here and see you out in the rain, on your hands and knees—”
“I told you I wasn’t ready for—”
“Bleeding from your neck where you allowed that woman at your throat. That’s what this is, right?” Harper picked up a wad of cash off the table and chucked it at him.
“I told you I wasn’t—”
“If you fucking say that again, I’ll torch you. Ten years. You’ve had ten years, and all that time you denied me closure—”
“I don’t want closure—”
“You took choice away from me, Wyatt. My shot at a treasure to satisfy my dragon? My shot at happiness? You stole that from me! Then you left me in Saratoga to pick up the pieces alone, and now you can’t even give me a fucking ‘thank you for saving my life just now’?”
“Because I’m not okay!” he roared. “My choice was taken, too! At least you had the Ashe Crew. At least you had the Gray Backs and the Boarlanders and your grandfather. At least you had friends. November was my fault, Harper. You were the victim, and I was the villain, and that month set the tone for my whole fucking life.” His voice dipped to a raspy whisper. “I’m the villain.”
She felt slapped. “Don’t you dare take November for yourself. Half of that burden is mine.”
Wyatt slammed the last chair onto its legs and hooked his hands on his hips. He shook his head, eyes locked on hers. She thought he was looking at her with disgust until he swayed on his feet and stumbled back a few steps, then propped himself against the countertop. His neck really did look shredded, not just from the fresh cuts, but from layers of scarring.
“Wyatt, what did you get yourself into?” she asked.
He shook in earnest now and looked like he might retch again, but his lips stayed sealed. Typical. He’d been stubborn as a boy, too. “You know that saying? That one about the road to hell being paved in good intentions?”
“What was your intention?”
He winced and avoided her gaze. “To save you.”
Chapter Four
“I’m not some damsel in distress, Wyatt. I’m the damn dragon. Save me how?” Harper asked.
Wyatt couldn’t look at her. Couldn’t watch the moisture that had rimmed her eyes fall down her cheek. Couldn’t accept the fact that here he was, hurting her again. He wasn’t fucking ready. He was supposed to have his shit together when he saw her for the first time after so long. He was supposed to be a territory owner, away from the shadow of the coven, and maybe even recruiting for a crew member or two. But this? She’d come in at the moment he was hitting rock bottom.
“Save me how?” she repeated louder.
God, she was beautiful. He’d always known she would grow up a stunner, but Harper was an angel. Long, wavy dark hair that shone like silk in the light of his small home. Her lips were downturned and heartbroken, but even pursed in disappointment, they were full and drinkable. He’d imagined her taste a million times since he’d left Saratoga. And now she was here, smelling like anger and dragon’s fire, her damp clothes clinging to her skin, her eyes exactly how he remembered. Wide and honest, so direct, bracketed by dark lashes. One soft brown iris and one that belonged to her dragon. Blue, with the reptilian pupil that said Harper was at the top of the food chain.
The way she’d gone after that coven tonight was a thing of beauty. She’d always been too loyal for her own good.
“Is this you shutting down again?” Harper asked in a defeated tone.
“I was trying to cut ties with the coven tonight.” She should at least know he was trying to dig himself out of his personal hell-hole.
“Is that woman your…yours?”
Wyatt really was going to be sick if she didn’t stop talking like that. “Arabella belongs to no one.”
“And you?”
Wyatt wished he didn’t have to answer. Wished he could disappear into a cloud of smoke like those asshole vamps, but Harper was looking at him, and he knew her. She wouldn’t let him get away with pleading the fifth. Not anymore. “Before tonight, I was her consort.”
Harper rubbed her eyes with her fingertips and sighed out a heart-wrenching sound. “You need to eat. And then you need to clean up your house and pack your bags.”
“Can’t. I’m in this.” He rolled his eyes over the rafters of his cabin. “My bear is wanting to set up territory. I choose the Smokey Mountains.”
“Well, un-choose them and convince your bear to come back to Damon’s mountains. You can’t be here alone.”
Then stay. Stay with me. The question was there on the tip of his tongue, but she deserved better than a broken man who begged. She deserved him stronger. “Saratoga isn’t my home anymore, Harper. There’s too many shifters up there, too little territory. There is nothing for me there.”
“Except your family, Wyatt! Except your friends.” Anger sparked in her eyes. “Except. Me.”
He huffed a breath and sank down on the couch. Maybe the room would stop spinning. “Harper, you and I both know you aren’t mine. Beaston called it from day one.”
“No, he said I was destined to be with a great alpha—”
“Exactly.”
“You’re so blind, Wyatt. You can’t see the path that is right in front of you. The path you threw away.”
“I’m trying to find it again!”
But Harper was good and done, and the only answer she gave was the slamming of the door.
And then he was alone again.
Just like a villain deserved.
****
Wyatt was a dumbass, not a villain. She shut her car door beside her and slammed her open palm against the steering wheel until she felt better.
Oh, he was good. He’d trained himself to push everyone away, but she wasn’t easily moved anymore. Okay, so Wyatt had listened to some prophecy and promptly exited her romantic life. Great. That was fine. She accepted it. His absence in her love life was his choice, not hers.
But everything in her said Wyatt needed a friend right now. Maybe not emotionally, but if he was going to survive the wrath of a coven, he needed numbers.
With a growl, she hit the speed dial of her cell and glared at Wyatt’s cabin as it rang and rang. On the third chime, a familiar voice answered. “Hey, cuz.”
Harper couldn’t help the smile that stretched her lips. She always loved talking to Aaron. “Hey, remember that favor you owe me?”
“Yeees,” he drawled suspiciously.
“I’m calling it in. Can you get some time off work?”
“Well, since my family name is on the damned fire house, yeah, I could take some R and R. Please tell me we’re going somewhere tropical.”
“I found Wyatt.”
The line went silent. Several heartbeats later, Aaron asked, “Where?”
“North Carolina. He could use some friends ri
ght now.”
“To sing kumbaya with?”
“Nah, something tells me he wouldn’t be into that. You may want to bring your wooden stakes.”
“Vampires?” She didn’t miss the hint of excitement in his tone. Aaron Keller was a complete hellion with an inner grizzly that thrived on chaos.
“Yep.”
A long, deep chuckle of glee resonated through the speaker. “Send me the address.”
The line went dead, and Harper blew out a steadying breath before she hit the next number.
Aaron was always going to be the easy one.
The others were flight risks and would have to be lured in more carefully.
Two phone calls, a shit-ton of cursing and bullying, one feral roar to let one of the boys know she was serious, and an hour of pleading, and she was back to figuring out her next move.
Wyatt was fucked up.
It was more than the vampire who’d been gnawing at this neck, though that would be enough to break a proud man like him. There was something more going on here. He’d spoken of not being ready for closure, of trying to save her. He’d built a mountain of secrets over the last decade, crawled up the pile of his mistakes, and there he sat, the King of Silence. The King of Nothing. That’s not how she’d imagined his life would be.
Problem number one: Wyatt was alone.
Why the fuck was he alone? Even she could tell what kind of bear he harbored. He was so dominant it was hard to breathe around him, but he had zero submissive animals under him to keep him steady. Harper exhaled a pissed-off sigh and narrowed her eyes at his little cabin. Crews weren’t just safety in numbers. They were affection and touch, which were so important to shifters to keep their animals sated. Loner shifters went mad. They took their own lives or were put down by alphas trying to protect humans.
Problem number two: Wyatt was sharing territory with a coven of angry vamps and one scary-as-hell Blackwing Dragon. Even if he was strong enough to live as a rogue, Wyatt wouldn’t last long alone. Not surrounded by enemies like these. And Harper would be damned if she was going to leave here not knowing if she would ever see Wyatt alive again.
She shoved open her door and shouldered her duffle bag again. It was too late to get a room at the bed and breakfast in town, and she wasn’t sleeping in the car smack-dab in the middle of vamp-land.
Even the short walk to the cabin was creepy, just thinking about all those blood suckers. What would’ve happened to Wyatt if she hadn’t shown up tonight? Chills blasted across her skin, and she hurried her steps so she could see him sooner. So she could remind herself he was still here, still breathing.
Some of the living room had been tidied, but only the single light in the kitchen was on. Most of the wreckage had been kicked into a pile near the front door. Long claw marks covered the surface of the couch cushions, and the stuffing had been ripped out. All that remained of her planned sleeping spot was the hard, cushion-less backing. Two springs had even breached the thin fabric. Nope.
The hiss of the shower was the only sound as she stepped carefully around piles of glass and into the single bedroom. Straight through was an ensuite bathroom with the light on that illuminated the small bedroom.
The bed was made, the furniture was sparse, and every rustic decoration was simple and in its place. This told her the living room was all the vampires’ doing and that Wyatt was just as tidy now as he was in his youth.
Harper quietly dressed for bed and pulled her toothbrush out of her bag. Silent as a hunter, she padded into the bathroom. The steam was really thick, as if Wyatt was scalding himself. A sick feeling filled her stomach as she realized what he was doing. Washing his neck out with soap made more sense now. His relationship with Arabella wasn’t something he reveled in. He was disgusted. With himself or with Arabella, she didn’t know yet. Maybe she didn’t want to know. Maybe she wanted to hold onto her anger so she could keep her heart at a distance until he was okay for her to leave again.
Harper turned on the tap and squeezed some of Wyatt’s toothpaste onto her brush.
The curtain was slapped aside, and Wyatt’s startled face appeared, his eyes blazing such a light blue they were almost white. God, he’d turned out to be handsome.
He twitched his attention to her toothbrush, then back to her face. “What are you doing here? I thought you left.”
“You thought wrong.” Harper began brushing her teeth. From here, she could see a delicious sliver of his arm and right side. His abs sure made pretty shadows.
Wyatt’s phone sat on the edge of the sink, and the screen lit up. A message from Kane came through.
“What does it say?” Wyatt asked, stretching his neck to see it.
“Are you still alive?” she read out loud around the froth of minty paste.
Harper picked it up and wrote back, No thanks to you, Captain A-hole. Send.
“What are you telling him?”
“I’m thanking him for being such an awesome friend,” she muttered sarcastically as she created a cartoon penis and typed in, You are a pecker and you suck at arm-wrestling. Send.
Wyatt frowned and disappeared behind the curtain. A moment later, the water turned off.
“I usually shake off to dry,” he muttered after a minute of silence.
Harper set the phone down, spat her toothpaste, and tried not to laugh. “Like a dog?”
“Can you hand me a towel.”
“I already saw your dick tonight. Don’t let me stop you from your routine shake-off.”
“Yeah, well it feels weird now. Being naked when I’m pissed after a shift is really fuckin’ different than stepping out of a shower.”
Harper rinsed her mouth and dried her lips with the hand towel, then handed the tiny piece of fabric to him with a bright smile.
Wyatt narrowed his eyes at her offering. “I have a boner.” He gave her a wicked grin and jacked up his eyebrow. “That wouldn’t even cover it.”
Harper threw the hand towel at his grinning face and sauntered out of the bathroom. She pulled down the thick cotton comforter of the bed, then snuggled under them. “My eyes are averted!”
The door closed with a decisive click, and Harper clasped her hands over her mouth to hide her laughter. God, she’d missed that naughty smile of his. It was just as she remembered. One side of his mouth curved up, and his eyes danced with a look that said he could find some trouble.
Harper fluffed up the pillows and surrounded herself with them, leaving him only one. Call her greedy, but she required a specific nest to sleep in, and she was pretty sure Wyatt wasn’t going to complain about a line of barriers between them.
“Woman, get out of my bed.”
“Polite decline. Your girlfriend shredded your couch cushions.”
“I sleep naked.”
He was trying to scare her off. Wouldn’t work, though. “You can sleep one night with some pants on, or you can sleep on the floor. Now quit your bitchin’ and pick a spot. I spent most of the day packed into a plane like a sardine with a bunch of complaining humans, spent an hour and a half driving here only to lose at arm wrestling to a friggin’ Blackwing Dragon in a bar, and then battled vampires for you. I’m tired and not up for a row.”
“You’re bossier than I remember.”
Harper smiled at the wall in the dark.
“And you’re a pillow hog,” he muttered as the bed bounced and bumped with him settling in.
When she looked over her shoulder, Wyatt was on top of the covers with his back to her. At least he was wearing briefs, but as he sighed in the dark, there was a slight tremble to his breath. He was going to freeze tonight.
Harper flopped over like a pancake. “I’ve decided something.”
“I thought you were tired.”
“I’ve decided we should be friends.”
“That doesn’t work for—”
“You don’t have to argue about everything. We were friends for years before we were more. And I get it. We’ve both grown up and changed. But yo
u need a friend right now, Wyatt.” Harper hugged her pillow closer and thought of all she would endure with The Unrest. “And so do I.”
Wyatt sighed in the dark. “Okay. Friends until you leave.”
“No asshole. I mean…besties. We’re gonna be BFFs. Messaging and meeting up around the holidays. Supporting each other when we settle down. Our kids will grow up knowing each other, and I’ll be friends with the mate you choose. I want the whole nine.”
“That’s not the nine I want.”
“Well, Wyatt,” she said tiredly. “We did it your way for the last decade, and look where it landed us. I’m not asking for much. Just your friendship. You owe me.”
Wyatt was shaking now…or shivering? On a whim, Harper rested her hand on his taut back muscles. His skin was cold as ice. She hated Arabella. It should be the queen’s ashes on the front porch right now. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Talking doesn’t help.”
“You can talk or you can get under the covers.”
A long snarl rattle Wyatt’s chest, but after a few minutes, he slipped under the comforter.
“Night,” she murmured.
“Night.”
Minutes of silence dragged on, but just as her eyelids grew heavy, Wyatt asked, “Harper?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for…you know.”
She didn’t know. For coming here, or helping him fight the vampires? Was he thanking her for not leaving? He could mean any or all of it, but her answer was still the same. “Anytime.”
Chapter Five
Harper cracked her eyes open and blinked against the early morning light that filtered through the single curtain-less window. Wyatt’s arm was heavy across her hip, and his breath tickled the back of her neck. She took stock of her body. There were three pillows on the floor thrown up against the closet door, and the only remaining one was under her cheek. Sometime in the night, he’d mucked up her nest and chucked the pillows between them at the wall.
And that boner Wyatt joked about last night? He took morning wood to a whole new level. There was basically a tree trunk against her spine right now. His leg was thrown over hers, trapping her, and his forehead was resting against the back of her head. She could almost feel his lips on the back of her neck. Warmth pooled deep in her belly.
