“Do not give up now, Malyshka. I know you are tired from your flight, but you must hang on a while longer,” he said.
Laurel stared at him. He stood taller than her stepfather. He moved so confidently, even with his wounds. Why would he try to rescue her? Not that she wasn't glad he did. She certainly didn't want to die. But she also didn't want him to get hurt. From the cuts and scratches on his legs and arms, it was clear he had hurt himself while trying to save her.
Laurel wondered as he climbed down beside her if she had made him up from wishful thinking.
He chuckled as he balanced on a ledge, perched below and to the left of her. “I am not an illusion, Malyshka. Now you must give me your hand so I can save you.”
Laurel tried to move her hand but couldn't make herself let go of the branch. How could she trust this man? He stood bigger than her stepfather. If he hit her, he could kill her instantly. He hissed with irritation, and she flinched, closing her eyes against the threat. She felt him pause, and his voice gentled when he spoke to her.
“Please, Malyshka. I've been hoping to find you. Please know that I would never hurt you, nor will I allow anyone else to hurt you. You will be safe with me.”
Laurel looked down at him. His eyes shown with compassion. He reached a hand out to her, and she could see it tremble.
If she wanted to live, Laurel needed to trust this man. Not all men turned into monsters like her stepfather. And for some reason she knew this man would keep her safe as he promised. She took a deep breath and reached out her hand to grasp his.
Anton felt great relief when she started to reach for him. As their fingers touched, the tree shuddered. Anton thrust his arm out and grabbed her wrist as the tree started to fall, pulling her into his side as the branches rushed past them. He held her, trying to shelter her body, as one of the limbs left a long stripe of agony across his shoulder. Blood dripped down his back from the wound, and scratches wove a pattern of red stripes on his body. He hoped he would have the strength to carry the woman back up the mountain.
She clung to his arm with both hands, shivering with cold and fear.
“Easy now. Make sure your feet are securely on the shelf. There you go. Now reach up and grab my neck. I want you to climb up on my back.”
She looked up at him sharply. “You're hurt and bleeding,” she accused.
“Let's worry about that after we are safe on the summit,” Anton said. “It is now too dark for you to see to climb.”
Laurel had to admit he was right. She could barely see him, and he was standing right next to her. Thankfully, the storm had stopped, but the mountain would still be muddy and hard to climb. She reached around his back and felt blood dripping from his wound. Carrying her would only cause him pain. That thought made her stomach roil, and she found she couldn't allow it.
Knowing she was taking a chance with her life, Laurel put her arms around his waist and reached inside for her healing energy. She found the well of quiet peace and let her healing light pour over both of them. First there was a flash of heat, then spreading warmth throughout their joined bodies. She let the healing energy take away the terror as well as each scratch and tear.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Healing you,” she whispered, keeping her concentration.
When she felt the last of the energy leave her body, she almost stumbled. Large male hands grabbed her and held her tight.
“Thank you for your gift, Malyshka. But you should have saved your strength. We cannot spend the night on this ledge. Do you have the strength to climb up on my back?”
“I will try.”
“What is your name, milaya moya, my sweet?” he asked her as he helped her move into position, bending his shoulders down so she could reach up to put her arms around his neck.
“Laurel,” she answered as she locked her arms around his neck, hoping she wasn't choking him.
“I am Anton, your mate,” he said, and then he began to climb.
Anton could not believe what Laurel had done for him. She was a treasure, ill-used by her stepfather. He found memories of drunken beatings in her mind. If he could arrange it, her stepfather would suffer for not cherishing the young woman destined to be Anton’s mate.
But now she lay exhausted and shivering with cold. He needed to get her into some kind of shelter and warm her. She struggled to hold on to him, and he feared what would happen if she couldn't continue.
Anton sighed with thanksgiving when he finally reached the top and crouched down so Laurel could slip from his back. She slid unceremoniously to the ground. Anton reached to help her untangle her arms from around his neck. She was still shivering uncontrollably, and Anton gathered her close to his chest, trying to warm her with his body.
Now the sky was fully dark, and Anton considered staying right here. But when Laurel's teeth started chattering, he realized that wouldn't work. Where could he take her? His father Vikenti had brought him and his brother up to these mountains when they were young. The mountains were on the edge of the pack’s territory, and his father wanted both his sons to know every inch of their territory.
Anton remembered a small hunting cabin, but it was at least a mile away. Now that the trails were muddy and slick, he wasn't sure they could make it. But then they didn't really have much choice. He wasn't taking Laurel back down the mountain where her stepfather might try to get hold of her. He reached down and slid his arms around his mate and lifted her.
“What are you doing?” she asked, alarm in her voice, as she stiffened in his arms.
“Trying to get us to shelter. It's going to be a while. The nearest place I can remember is at least a mile away. Put your arms around my neck and hold on. Use my body heat to warm yourself.”
“But it's dark. How will we make our way?”
“I have certain abilities, as you do, milaya moya,” he said as he started moving along the summit of the mountain. “One of them is I can see perfectly in the dark.
Anton could see the lights of the village far below and back toward the river. But the hunters’ hut was ahead on the other side of the mountain. If he remembered correctly, there should be a trail that would branch off and down.
Anton started moving with confidence. He sent his mind reaching for his twin. With the distance, she would be his best chance to get a message out.
Alena?
Anton where are you? You sound far away.
I am in the mountains. I am headed to the old hunters’ hut. Do you remember it?
Yes, but why?
I will explain later. Bring the truck and meet me near the hut.
It will take almost a day to get to you.
Please come, Alena.
Of course, we will come. Are you injured?
No, but I need to break off. The trail is muddy and slippery, he sent to his sister.
Be safe, Anton, she sent in reply.
Anton continued along the trail, sighing in relief when he found the path leading down. Now, he needed to get down the trail without falling. Laurel finally succumbed to her exhaustion and lay limp in his arms. He marveled at how light she was. She couldn't weigh more than 100 pounds or so. He growled when he felt her ribs sticking from her sides. He found memories of hunger in her mind. Her stepfather starved her while he used his money to buy alcohol. Her stepfather had a lot to answer for.
Anton promised himself to see that she ate. As his mate, she would no longer starve for anything—food, attention, or love.
He pushed the door of the old hunters’ hut open and lay Laurel down on the little cot. He worked quickly, stripping her wet clothes from her chilled body. In a wooden box next to the door he found several old wool blankets and wrapped her carefully in them.
He feared what would happen if she took a fever. He didn't know if her healing gift could heal an illness. With her body so thin and worn, he feared for her health. Once he settled her on the cot, he opened her backpack and pulled out the wet clothes inside, spreading them out on
the table to dry. He found her brush and passport on the bottom. He opened the American passport. Her full name was Laurel Marie Harris. The picture must have been taken several years ago. A smiling adolescent looked out of the picture, while Anton knew her to be a young woman with a woman's body, curvy and soft. Her birthday was today, June 22nd, and she was eighteen. Her hair was actually a deep auburn. In the rain and darkness, Anton had thought it a dark brown.
Next, Anton searched the rest of the cabin and found a tin of crackers and a jar of berry jam. He also found a pair of men’s overalls. He remembered Laurel's shock at his nude body. Tomorrow he would wear the overalls to make her more comfortable. Nudity played a large part in pack life, but humans were not accustomed to it.
Finding nothing else of use, he blocked the door with the one and only chair and climbed into the cot. He placed Laurel across his body, safe in his arms. Finally, he let sleep take him.
“No, please don’t hurt me . . . please . . . ” Laurel woke up with a start. She had been dreaming that she needed to get away. She couldn't move her legs and realized she lay wrapped in blankets and held in strong arms. Panicking and caught in the aftermath of the dream, she jerked back and promptly fell off the cot. Laurel sat there a moment, shivering, already missing Anton’s warmth. Had she really slept in his arms last night? He snored softly, and Laurel wanted to laugh hysterically. What was she doing? She looked around the small wooden structure. The light seeping into the small window assured her that a new day had begun. A table and chair sat in one corner. A wooden box sat next to the stone fireplace. Anton now occupied the canvas cot.
Who was this man, besides her real-life hero? Nothing should be taken for granted, not even this man. Laurel had learned that lesson the hard way with her stepfather. He had never lifted a hand against her while her mother lived. But after she died, he started drinking, and the abuse began. Though he was always sorry the next day, that didn't stop him from going out drinking again. No, Laurel couldn't allow herself to depend on anyone, not even Anton.
She tried to move her legs and loosen the blankets. But they didn't seem to be coming free. Anton muttered, and she stilled, not wanting to wake him up. The golden cord of light that attached her heart to his glowed softly. What was it, again? She batted at it, but her hand passed through it. She wondered if Anton could see it, as she did. Or could she see it because of her gift of healing? Either way, they were tied together at the heart.
Suddenly, she seemed to travel through the cord and fall into Anton's mind. She could see his memories of last night and his terror of losing her. She saw his twin sister and his older brother. Then, there were wolves, lots of different wolves. She remembered the wolf on the path behind her. Did it belong to Anton?
Then, a memory appeared of a woman, with gray eyes and long silver hair. Laurel somehow knew this was Anton's mother. She shimmered, like a rainbow, surrounded by sparks of light. When the light faded away a beautiful gray wolf stood in her place. Laurel's breath caught. Anton was a werewolf? But that didn't feel right. His love for his family and friends appeared strong. He didn't seem like a monster from a movie. But what was he exactly?
She searched his recollections some more and found only memories that pointed to a good and honorable man. He had helped the police catch a drug dealer, and he had helped his pack members at every turn. He had followed her up a mountain through a rainstorm because he sensed her fear and wanted to help her and protect her. His anger at her stepfather burned low, like an ember waiting for air to make it burst into full flame. He abhorred violence against woman and children. All these things were clear to see in his mind. He actually was a real-life hero. Did she dare trust him? Was this the protector her mother’s spirit had told her about?
Laurel pulled her consciousness from Anton's memories. He had told her he possessed abilities like hers. He hadn’t lied to her. Laurel hoped that she would get a chance to see him shift into a wolf. She wanted to see that shimmering rainbow light with her own eyes.
She sat looking at Anton. Thank goodness he had stumbled upon her trail. Her mother had promised her a protector, and her stepfather wouldn't dare touch her with a werewolf as her friend.
Anton awoke instantly. Laurel was anxious. He could feel her emotion coming through their mating bond. He turned, finding her on the floor beside him, her auburn hair curled around her face and down her back. Her blue eyes widened, as she looked up at him.
“What is it, milaya moya? What is wrong?”
She cocked her head to the side. “What does that mean, milaya moya?” she asked.
“It means ‘my sweet.’ But you didn't answer the question.”
“I woke up from a bad dream, that’s all. I am finally free of my stepfather, and I found you,” she said, color blooming on her face and just as suddenly gone.
“Are you hungry? Anton asked. “I found some crackers and jam last night.” Laurel looked so fragile, her skin as pale as porcelain, except for a spattering of freckles across her cheeks.
“I guess I could eat. I don't normally eat breakfast.”
Anton sat up carefully, trying not to startle her. Laurel stiffened. She was a skittish little thing. But with her history, which he had discovered last night during their bonding, she had a right to be. He got up slowly and reached for the overalls he’d left out.
“I laid out your clothes to dry,” he said. “Hopefully, you will find something dry enough for you to wear.”
Anton kept his back to her as he slipped on the overalls. It hurt him to find her so skittish, but he understood why. Now, he would have to build her trust in him. When he finished putting the overalls on, he turned. Laurel still sat where he’d left her, her face averted. When she saw how short the overalls were, she giggled, her hand quickly covering her mouth, her eyes crinkling in amusement. Anton let the pure tone of her laughter sweep over him. He would pay money to hear that sound again.
“A little short aren't they?” she asked, pointing at his hairy legs below the cuffs.
Anton laughed with her. “Yes, but they will do the job,” he said.
Using the cot to balance herself, Laurel got up and hopped around like an inchworm. Anton smiled and grabbed her around the waist when she was about to topple over. He noticed her flinch at his quick movements and felt his anger at her stepfather rise again.
“Here, let me help you. I didn't realize I wrapped the blankets so tight.”
Laurel tried not to flinch, but couldn't quite help it. In her mind, she realized Anton wouldn't hurt her, but her body still lived in fear. He spoke to her gently and helped her loosen the blankets. His touch, feather light, helped Laurel start to relax. He chuckled when she yelped and grabbed the blankets, before they could fall open, exposing her nudity.
“Why don't I go outside for a while? Call me when you are done getting dressed.”
“Okay, thanks,” she said.
Laurel watched as Anton removed the chair from the door and stepped outside into the sunshine. He closed the door gently behind him. She reached for her clothes and found them almost completely dry. Though her jeans were still slightly damp, and the knees still caked with mud, she put them on anyway. She reached into her backpack and found her mother's silver hairbrush, which she quickly used to tame some of her curls. Then, she put the rest of her clothes and her passport back in the backpack and zipped it up.
The sky was a vibrant blue and birds were singing. Anton looked around the outside of the hut, but didn't see any sign of anyone. The road Kolya and Alena would take to get to the cabin was about half a mile down the mountain on this side. He figured they would arrive sometime in the afternoon. Hopefully, they would think to bring food with them. He wanted to see Laurel eat. There was no outhouse, so Anton stepped into the forest to take care of business. He didn’t want to embarrass Laurel further, but he didn’t want to leave her alone for long either.
He didn't have long to wait. He returned to the hut and was leaning against the side, when Laurel walked outs
ide and twirled around. She was wearing a pair of dirty jeans and a pink T-shirt that hugged her curves. Her canvas shoes were brown and still bore smudges of mud.
“Isn't it a beautiful day?” she asked.
“Yes” was all Anton could think to say, his mouth suddenly dry.
The sunshine in Laurel's hair turned it a deep red, making it look aflame. Her curls framed her pixie-like features, and the smile on her face was open and warm. With sunshine in her hair, she looked like a fairy in an old children’s story. Anton could gaze at her forever. Suddenly shy, he walked up to her.
“Laurel, you are so beautiful. May I kiss you?”
“You want to kiss me?” she asked in amazement.
“It would give me great pleasure.”
“Okay, if you want to . . . ”
“I do,” he assured her.
Anton slowly lowered his mouth to hers, keeping his hands at his sides. He tasted her, kissing her gently, then pulled back. Laurel had never kissed a man before, and with the abuse in her past, he would have to move slowly. He raised his head to look down into her eyes and felt himself falling under her spell. She belonged to him, his mate.
Powerful emotions washed over Anton like a wave and his body grew hard, demanding he cement the mating bond into place. But he wanted to give her tenderness, and intuitively knew he would have to let Laurel come to him. She had been hurt. He wanted her happiness and trust. He wanted to give her so much pleasure that she would forget anything bad ever happened to her. But until she was ready, he would have to wait. At least the mating bond would help him. Sexual desire was often a side effect of bonding.
The slightly dazed look in her eyes pleased him. She had enjoyed his kiss.
Chapter Three
Laurel touched her fingers to her lips. She had had no idea that kissing a man could be so enjoyable. She looked up to find Anton’s eyes on her. His gaze branded her, consumed her. But underneath his hunger was tenderness. He really cared. Laurel took the knowledge deep into her heart and held it there. It had been two long years since someone had cared for her. The feelings washing over her were overwhelming. Tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them away, not wanting Anton to see.
My Mate's Embrace Page 2
