Light Beyond the Darkness

by Tami Lund

  “Oh yeah,” she said, her chest heaving, her eyes dilated. She hopped up onto the table and spread her legs. “Come on, Reid. Fuck me.”

  Sleazy women weren’t normally his thing. He had always been more attracted to the quiet, reserved ones. They were the ones Quentin tended to leave alone.

  But today, this moment, all he could see was her. Quentin’s sexy little paramour, laid out on his prized pool table, her body, her face, full of promise. They were alone in the house. This wouldn’t take long.

  He pushed his jeans and boxers over his hips. Stepped between her legs. She lifted her hips, pressed one palm against the felt, teased herself with the other hand. Reid watched her, while she stared at his dick.

  “No gray,” she said. “And so big.”

  His pride swelled at the insinuation that he was bigger than his pack master. He wrapped one hand around his dick and the other around her hip, positioned himself, and thrust. Her back arched off the table and she cried out her pleasure. He grabbed her hips with both hands and began pumping. Fates, it felt so damn good. Whether it was the forbidden fruit concept or that she was just that good, he had no freaking idea. He only knew that he was probably not going to last long enough for her to come. He sucked in a breath and slowed his pace, focusing on prolonging the experience.

  “Faster,” she demanded. She watched his face, but then her gaze darted to the side, her eyes widened, and suddenly, she struggled to pull away from him. Confused, he clung more tightly to her hips. What the hell?

  A hand clamped down on his shoulder and jerked him away from her. His dick slid out with a wet pop, and his jeans fell to his knees. He turned his face right into Quentin’s fist, which smashed his nose. Blood spurted, spraying his furious pack master and the three other shifters who flanked him.

  Shit.

  “Decided you wanted to know what it feels like to be pack master, Hennigan?” Quentin taunted. He punched him again. Reid stood there and took it, knowing if he did anything else at all—especially try to defend himself—it would make the experience ten times worse.

  “Was she worth it?”

  Reid didn’t respond.

  “Get her,” Quentin commanded, pointing at the female shifter who was now crouched in a corner, her arms wrapped around her shaking body. One of his guards strode around the table and grabbed her by the arm, lifted her to her feet, and then stood there, clearly waiting for further direction.

  “Get on the table,” Quentin said, and Reid realized he was speaking to him.

  “Huh?” His voice sounded nasal, thanks to the broken nose.

  Quentin pointed at the table. “Lay down. On your stomach.”

  Reid hesitated only for a moment, before he tugged his pants up to his waist and crawled up onto the table, wondering what the hell Quentin intended to do. Blood dripped from his nose, leaving dark spots on the green felt. He wondered if he would be punished for that, too, even though Quentin had ordered him to climb onto the pool table. Unfortunately for Reid, his pack master was not exactly a rational or forgiving man.

  “Hold him.”

  A moment later, there was a shifter holding each wrist, while Quentin tugged Reid’s belt out of the loops of his jeans, then grabbed his shirt, tearing it down the middle of his back. Reid suspected what was about to happen only a heartbeat before the first bite of the leather material touched his skin.

  * * * *

  He abruptly shut down the memory. Recalling as much as he had was bad enough. He did not want to relive the pain. So much pain. He had no idea how long Quentin had whipped him, because eventually he’d passed out from the pain and blood loss. The white, puckered scars on his back itched, as if protesting the memories. Reid resisted the urge to roll around on the rug, like a dog scratching his own back.

  He knew he had woken up in his parents’ home, lying on his stomach in his childhood bed. His parents, Finn, and the pack’s midwife, who often doubled as something of a healer, all huddled nearby, fear and worry etched into their features. He’d floated in and out of consciousness for several days before he had finally healed enough to be able to shift into animal form. The shift sped along the healing process, and he had then shifted back into human form and limped from the bedroom into the kitchen to ask his mother for a drink of something stiff to dull the remaining pain.

  He’d found out that the girl had been beaten, too, and Quentin had dismissed her as his paramour. The midwife had informed Reid that she too was recovering from her wounds. He had derived no comfort from the thought. At that point, he had been convinced he would derive no comfort ever again.

  Clearly, he’d been wrong.

  Eventually, he had swallowed his pride and went back to work as a house guard, mostly because Quentin had informed him he had no choice. He never saw the girl again, and though Quentin deliberately paraded his other paramours in front of him, Reid never once felt the urge to make eye contact, let alone do anything else.

  And when the time came, when news returned to the pack that Quentin had been killed—by his own son, no less—Reid had immediately grabbed his prepacked bag, which had been full of cash, clothing, and a toiletry kit, and disappeared into the night. He had not even told his family he was leaving.

  Thoughts of Carley pushed against the bad memories. Considering what he’d done, he figured he should feel as though he did not deserve her. She was such a pure, sweet, kind, and loving person. Not to mention she was a lightbearer. A small part of him actually found a strange bit of self-satisfaction in knowing he was sleeping with a lightbearer. Not that he wished to ever see his former pack master again, but he did wish Quentin could have known before he died just how wrong his obsession had been, for all those years.

  Despite everything, Reid did not feel as though he did not deserve her. What he felt was a fear that he would never be able to offer himself fully and completely, which was no less than she deserved. She had obviously been hurt, clearly abused, at some point in her life. If she ever chose to take a mate, it would have to be someone who would be fully open and honest with her, always. Reid wasn’t sure he could ever do that.

  He had never spoken to anyone about what happened. Even his family knew very little, and despite their cajoling, he’d steadfastly refused to tell them exactly what went down, why he’d ended up on his parents’ doorstep, his back a bloody, mangled mess. He knew they gossiped, whispered about the incident, but he never provided validation, for or against the ghastly stories they heard.

  And now he’d discovered that Carley likely knew his brother; that her cousin might well be mated to him. He’d repressed his pack-like instincts for eight months now, and as though Carley’s offhand comment had turned on a faucet, those instincts hit him like a physical blow. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to see his brother, his parents, his sister and her family. To be part of a pack again.

  He warred with himself. To be part of a pack was to be submissive to another pack master. While he figured no one could ever be as bad as Quentin Lyons, there was plenty of gray space between his former pack master and a good pack master. He wasn’t sure he could take the chance of ending up submitting to a pack master he did not respect.

  Yet wandering alone in the human world left him feeling cold and empty, every single day, every single night. Even on those nights when he allowed a female to share his bed.

  Except for those days and nights he shared with Carley. Since the moment he saw her in that overly bright kitchen in the restaurant where she worked, the coldness, the emptiness was gone. Until now.

  Now, he felt as though he needed both. He needed Carley, and he needed his family. Finn lived within the lightbearers’ coterie, which was Carley’s rightful home. He hadn’t actually investigated, but he suspected his parents had moved to Tennessee, where his sister lived with her mate and his pack. It would be so easy for him to check to see if his suspicion was true.

  But first, he needed to know if the Finn Carley knew was his brother.

  Chapter 7 />
  Just like every night for the past month, Reid was waiting when the kitchen staff exited the restaurant through the employee entrance. He leaned against the brick wall, his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans, his shaggy hair windblown, his pale, pale eyes almost glowing. Carley felt a little thrill as she watched his gaze seek her out in the small group of humans.

  Her.

  She had never been the object of someone’s desire before. She had never been an obsession. She liked the feeling. A lot.

  Reid made her feel safe. She honestly couldn’t recall if she’d ever truly felt safe in her entire life, until now. Growing up, she’d constantly struggled against her parents’ beliefs, because they had never quite felt right. They’d reacted to her indecision by pushing harder, attempting to convince her to come around to their way of thinking. Eventually, they’d forced her into mating with Miguel, because he represented everything they believed in, and his family had standing within the coterie, too. Everything her greedy parents had always wanted.

  Once she’d become Miguel’s mate, she’d certainly never felt safe. Many nights, she had been afraid to fall asleep, for fear Miguel would force himself on her. Unfortunately, it was not an unfounded fear.

  Now that she’d opened herself up to Reid, she could sleep readily, easily, because she knew he would keep her safe. He would never let anything harm her.

  Of course, he had no idea that she was mated to another, that the danger was within the lightbearer coterie. That she could never, ever go back there. Ever. Again.

  Good thing Reid was a shifter, and therefore, had no reason whatsoever to want to visit the coterie. If this thing they had turned into something more, well, Carley saw no reason why they could not simply live out their lives right there in Chicago, living among the humans, pretending to be like them. Why not?

  They said their goodbyes and parted ways with the rest of the group. Reid hadn’t even asked if she intended to go home with him tonight, and she hadn’t wondered if he wanted her to. They had both simply known.

  As usual, she was exhausted by the time they reached Reid’s apartment building. While they rode the elevator to the top floor, she leaned heavily against his side, secure in the comfort of his arm wrapped around her shoulder. When the doors parted, he swept her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way to his apartment.

  He laid her on the bed, and she fell into a light doze before he’d even pulled off all of her clothing. She was just awake enough to anticipate the feel of his extra-warm body, which she expected would press against her body at any moment.

  When that didn’t happen in a timely fashion, Carley frowned and opened her eyes. Reid towered over her, on his hands and knees, looking down at her. The look on his face was…peculiar.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. Come to think of it, he had been awfully quiet on the short walk from the restaurant to his home. Far more than usual.

  “Do you think you could take some time off from your job? A few days? Maybe a week?”

  “Why?”

  “I want to take you somewhere.”

  Relief flooded her system. There was nothing wrong, after all. “Like a vacation?” She smiled. A vacation with Reid, how fun would that be? Perhaps they could go south, somewhere warm, where the days were sunny more often than not. Somewhere, where it would be just the two of them, and they could spend their days as well as the nights making love and getting to know one another better.

  “Of a sort,” he said, hedging.

  “What did you have in mind?”

  He sat back on his haunches, turned his face to the side, and looked out the window at the darkened sky and the roofs of the nearest buildings.

  “I want to visit your coterie.”

  * * * *

  She hadn’t given him a direct answer that night. She hadn’t been able to. Instead, she feigned exhaustion—which wasn’t really feigning—and promised they could discuss it the next day. Reid had accepted her response, had shed his clothing and curled himself around her body, and fallen asleep with her wrapped securely in his arms.

  Except she didn’t feel secure, anymore.

  In truth, she felt the urge to run. She wanted to slip out from under his arm, quietly let herself out of his apartment, rush back to her own house, pack her meager belongings, and disappear from this life she’d forged for herself. She wanted to go somewhere where no one knew who she was, what she was.

  She’d thought she’d found that here, in this city teeming with humans, many of whom appreciated her culinary skill. Her roommates were perfectly willing to accept her refusal to discuss her past, to tell them anything about herself, really. The owner of the restaurant where she worked was thrilled to allow her to practice her trade, to improve her skills. The patrons were more than happy to devour her creations. Everything had been as perfect as it could be.

  Until Reid walked into her life.

  He’d turned her life upside down, caused her to question everything about herself, about her past, her future. He helped her to understand the pleasure that should be derived when two people come together intimately. He gave her no choice but to believe in herself, to respect herself, to believe that she deserved better than what she’d had with Miguel, than what her family had expected from her.

  And now he wanted her to go back to that life. To face her demons.

  Miguel.

  “Why?” she asked the next morning. She had slipped out of bed shortly after dawn, having given up on any attempts at sleeping. She’d climbed into the shower and stood there, letting the heated water beat on her, soak into her skin.

  After only a few minutes, he joined her, standing behind her and washing her hair, massaging her scalp, and causing her to very nearly forget why she had spent the last night tossing and turning instead of sleeping.

  “Why do I want to visit your coterie?”

  Carley nodded.

  “Because I believe the Finn you mentioned is my brother.”

  She turned around, stared up into his face. He looked grim, as if he did not want to go to the coterie either, yet for some reason felt compelled.

  “I hadn’t really thought about it until now, but you and Finn do have different coloring from the rest of the shifters I’ve met.”

  “You know others? Besides Finn and Tanner?”

  “Tanner’s mother, Arianna. Another named Lisa, and her two children. She calls them pups. They all have dark hair, although Arianna’s had gone white. After Olivia healed her, it has begun to grow in dark again. The queen used her magic to color the ends, so that it did not look so strange.”

  “Arianna is alive? And Lisa Bearrans? She whelped her pup?” He shook his head. “Of course she did. She was near to whelping nine months ago.”

  “You know them? You’re from that pack too?” Instinct encouraged her to shrink away from him, but she fought it. He was like Tanner and Finn, Lisa and Arianna. He did not believe he needed to kill her to inherit her magic. Either that or he simply did not care about gaining the magic in the first place.

  He sensed her internal turmoil. She could see it on his face. He reached for her, his hand wavered, and then dropped to his side. He turned away from her, showing her his back, the white, puckered scars there. As he climbed out of the shower, she whispered, “Of course you are.”

  “What does that mean?” he asked. He grabbed a towel, draped it across his shoulders, effectively covering his back. His past. Then he grabbed another and began drying his body.

  “I don’t care about the scars,” she said, because she needed to say it as much as she suspected he needed to hear it. But he did not acknowledge her words. Instead, he left the bathroom, with the towel still draped over his shoulders.

  She turned off the water and snagged a towel, quickly drying her body and hurrying after him. “Reid,” she said when he opened the dresser drawer and extracted a T-shirt. “Make love to me.”

  His body went rigid for a moment, and then he turned to face h
er. His pale eyes glowed. His body was obviously turned-on.

  By me.

  “Make love to me,” she said again. She deliberately pulled the towel away from her body, let it drop to the floor. She stood there, needing him to come to her, to lead her to the bed. It was still so hard for her to make the first move. Before Reid, she’d never wanted to. Now, she was still half-afraid to.

  But she needed him to understand. She didn’t care that he was from that pack. She didn’t care that his back was a mess of white, puckered scars, a constant reminder of what he’d gone through in his past life. She believed he did not want to kill her for her magic. He probably didn’t even care that she was a lightbearer. He wanted her for her, nothing more, nothing less.

  In two steps, he stood before her, his hands twisted in her wet hair, his mouth slanted over hers, his erection brushing against her belly. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pulling him closer, melding their bodies together. She felt her magic flare, felt Reid’s body react. He pressed her against the wall, pulled his hands from her hair, and wrapped them around her thighs, lifting her off her feet.

  She clung to him, her arms around his back, her fingernails scraping over the scars. She locked her ankles around his waist and pressed her thighs against his hips, as he pushed into her. He didn’t break the kiss. He continued to ravish her mouth as his hips slapped against hers, again and again. Even when she cried out as her orgasm hit, he swallowed her cry and continued to kiss her, until his hips began to piston uncontrollably, and he suddenly stiffened and poured his seed into her.

  They remained like that for a long while afterward, until Carley realized she had not had a panic attack, like she had the last time they’d made love with her pressed against a wall. It was, in her mind, a significant step in the right direction. She wanted to be able to give everything to Reid, to make love with him any way he desired, regardless of how she’d been conditioned from years of living with Miguel. She was not entirely there, but she’d made great inroads in just a few short weeks.

  * * * *