Blood Wolf Dawning

by Rhyannon Byrd

  Looking at Brody, who had just come to a stop no more than five feet in front of him, he cut off whatever the Runner was going to say with a rough, impatient burst of words. “I know you want to tell me to get lost, and after the way I left, you have every right. But I came back for a reason. I need to talk to Sayre. Where is she?”

  Brody’s green eyes burned with an even brighter surge of anger. “You think she’s with the pack?”

  Cian scowled. “Where else would she be?”

  God, if she’d found someone and moved away with him he was going to completely lose it.

  Michaela reached her husband’s side, a concerned look on her beautiful face as she said, “Cian, Sayre doesn’t live with the Silvercrest anymore.”

  Thinking this must be some kind of ploy to either screw with him or protect the young witch, he held Michaela’s troubled gaze. “I’m not here to make things hard for her, Mic. I just...I came back because I need to talk to her.”

  Though human, Michaela possessed the unique ability to psychically “read” others’ emotions, and Cian could only imagine what she was picking up from him at that moment: frustration, fear, guilt, anger, regret and, beneath it all, a seething, never-ending need for something he could never have. She slid Brody a quick glance, then delicately cleared her throat as she looked at Cian and said, “We’re not lying. As much as I hate to say it, she honestly isn’t here.”

  So many raw, visceral curses suddenly crowded into his throat, he thought he might choke on them. He swallowed a few times, then finally managed to scrape out a single word. “Why?”

  His insides twisted when he noticed the way they glanced at each other again, as if neither of them knew how much to tell him. Or what to tell him.

  “After you left,” Michaela finally murmured, taking a careful breath, “there were...well, some things changed.”

  “What kind of things? What the hell are you talking about?”

  He’d kept up on the pack enough through third parties to know that the Silvercrest had flourished in the past five years, thanks to the hard work of the Runners. They might have still been recovering from their war against the neighboring Whiteclaw pack when he’d left, but it’d been clear even then that they’d become a force too powerful for anyone to mess with. Nothing had happened in these mountains that should have necessitated Sayre leaving. Not unless it was something personal, and the secrets he could see burning in his friends’ eyes were seriously pissing him off.

  “Stop worrying about how I’m going to react,” he said, “and just spit it out.”

  Michaela sighed. “Cian, Sayre isn’t the same.” At his darkening look, she hurried to explain. “Not long after you took off, Sayre went into a decline and suffered a...breakdown. Not only was she wrecked because of the way you abandoned everyone, but she’d also been dealing with some pretty powerful issues in private. Her powers had been increasing at an abnormal rate, but she didn’t want to worry anyone and tried to hide it as much as she could. But after the war, it eventually got to be too much for her, and she had to get away and be on her own. She hasn’t lived here in over four and a half years.”

  Four and a half years? Reeling, he tried to suck in a sharp breath, but his lungs had locked down. He was sealed in a goddamn vise of disbelief, the roaring in his head making him flinch. No. No, damn it. This can’t be happening. He didn’t want to believe, but he could tell by the looks on their faces that they were telling him the truth.

  Somehow, he managed to choke out, “Where. Is. She?”

  “It’s too much of a strain on her system when she’s around other people, so she lives by herself just over the border, in a cabin in West Virginia.”

  His throat was so tight with fear he could barely speak. “And there’s no one there to help her? She’s completely alone?”

  Brody jerked his chin up and scowled. “She doesn’t like to be around anyone. Even Jillian and Jeremy. It physically pains her to pick up on others’ physical and emotional energy.”

  Cian paced away from them and lowered his head, staring at the tips of his heavy black leather boots. He shoved his hands into his hair, pushing it away from his face as he squeezed his skull, working everything he’d just learned through his head. Christ, all this time he’d thought she was safe, surrounded by her family and friends, when he couldn’t have been more wrong. She was alone, damn it. On her own in the middle of fucking nowhere!

  Rage seared its way through his veins in a thick, eviscerating spill, and he lowered his arms and fisted his hands at his sides as he turned back around and took an aggressive step toward Brody. Five years ago, he’d left a single message for his partner that read: Take care of her. But that obviously hadn’t happened.

  Locking his furious gaze with Brody’s green one, he snarled, “I trusted you.”

  “Yeah, I trusted you, too,” the Runner shot back, curling his upper lip. “But that didn’t stop you from running like a coward, did it?”

  Cian struggled to control his temper and calm his harsh breaths, but the darkness inside him was rising, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he lost the fight against it. Which meant he needed to get the hell out of there. “I need directions to where she is,” he growled. “Now.”

  Brody snorted and shook his head, looking at him with disgust. “It’s been five years, Cian. Why the sudden hurry?”

  Before he could respond, Michaela reached into the pocket of her long skirt and pulled out a small piece of paper. “You both just need to calm down. This isn’t going to help anyone.” Offering him the paper, she said, “I already wrote the information down for you after you sent Brody that text.”

  Her husband shot her a disgruntled look. “What the hell, Mic?”

  She slid Brody an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, honey, but she deserves the chance to deal with this on her own.”

  Cian didn’t speak as he grabbed the tiny slip of paper from Michaela’s hand. A quick glance showed that she’d written down a brief set of directions along with several names and phone numbers.

  “The others will be sorry they missed you,” she told him. “They’ve taken all the kids down to the beach for two weeks in South Carolina. But we chose to stay home because Jack’s still too young for that kind of thing.”

  He opened his mouth, a hundred different questions on his tongue. Jack? Kids? Exactly how many did his friends have now? What were their names, ages and genders? His curiosity was strong—but his fear for Sayre’s safety was stronger.

  Snapping his mouth shut, Cian turned and headed back to the sleek sports car he’d left parked in the grass. Just as he opened the driver’s-side door, Brody grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around, getting right in his face. “What the hell are you up to, Hennessey?”

  “I’m bringing her back where she belongs.”

  The three thin scars that slashed across Brody’s tanned face turned white as he grimaced. “She won’t come back with you. We begged her, but she was adamant. You really think you’ll be able to change her mind after leaving like you did?”

  “The difference is that I don’t plan on asking, or begging. I’m not giving her a choice,” he ground out, digging the key fob from his pocket. “I’ll tie her up and throw her over my shoulder if I have to, but one way or another, she is coming back to where it’s safe.”

  The Runner’s green eyes widened with comprehension. “What aren’t you telling us?” he demanded, tightening the brutal grip he had on his shoulder.

  Looking his former partner right in the eye, Cian said, “I don’t have the time to get into this, Brody. But I will explain when I get back.”

  “Are we in danger?” he asked in a low voice, showing no signs of backing down.

  Cian shook his head, hoping like hell that it wasn’t a lie. But he had no reason to believe that the Runners were targets. If that were the case
, something would have happened a long time ago, when Cian had been one of them.

  A knowing light started to burn in Brody’s eyes. “Is Sayre in danger? Is that what this is about?”

  “If she is, what is it to you?” he growled, hating the way that Brody was looking at him—with years’ worth of fury and hurt and disappointment that made him feel completely worthless.

  Deep voice vibrating with rage, the Runner said, “It’s important to me because I was your partner and your best friend, asshole. So that was on me. You don’t think I felt responsible when you just up and ran? I had to watch that girl deal with your betrayal while everything was falling apart for her, and felt guilty as hell for not figuring out what you were up to. Because you can bet that if I had, I would have saved her from having to deal with whatever bullshit you’ve brought down on her head now.”

  Struggling to hold on to his control, he forced his response through his gritted teeth. “I don’t have time for this, man. You want to beat me down when I get back with her, then fine. Go for it. I’m sure it’s exactly what I deserve. But right now, I’ve got to go.”

  “You want to leave,” Brody seethed, his towering height allowing him to go nose-to-nose with Cian, “then you tell me what’s going on. Is Sayre in danger?”

  Through the thrashing of his pulse in his ears, he heard himself say, “She’s been in danger from the moment I first realized she was mine.”

  “From who? You?”

  “No,” he grunted, choking back the bile that rose in his throat. “From an old enemy of mine.”

  “What old enemy? What the hell does that mean? Don’t we all have the same enemies?”

  Jerking free of the Runner’s hold, Cian climbed into the car and slammed the door. Brody banged on the window with his fist, but he ignored him as he cranked the engine, then twisted in his seat to look over his shoulder and floored the accelerator as he reversed down the road.

  He felt exactly like the asshole Brody had called him for leaving like this, knowing they were going to worry. But, damn it, he didn’t have time to waste on explanations. He needed to get to West Virginia, to the girl he’d left behind, before it was too late and he lost his chance.

  Your chance to do what? Save her life? his wolf muttered. Because that’s the only thing you have a chance in hell of saving when it comes to you and her. You’ve screwed up too badly for any “second chances” with the girl. And don’t think I’m ever going to let you forget it.

  He ground his back teeth together, not wanting to hear it—any of it. Then he felt something slick and cold stir to life inside him, meandering its way through his veins, and suddenly the beast’s nagging seemed the far lesser of two evils. Yeah, the wolf part of his nature might be a pain in the ass at times, but at least it was noble. Hard and vicious and animalistic, yes; but it lived its life according to a code.

  Unfortunately, the wolf wasn’t the only thing living beneath his skin, and Cian wanted to claw at his heart until he could rip the blackened organ from his chest. Because that was where the “other” part of him lived. And it wasn’t noble or honest or loyal. It was nothing but hunger and rage and greed. An evil so twisted he’d always hated its existence. Had hidden it away, even from those who were closest to him. Who’d fought at his side, and put not only their lives in his hands, but also the lives of those who meant the most to them.

  But now there was no more running. No more avoiding the inevitable...or his past...or those parts of his life that he wished he could simply erase from existence, like a hard rain could wash away grime and filth.

  He could search the world over, but he wasn’t ever going to find a rain that came down hard enough to wash him clean.

  Glancing over at the passenger’s seat, he spotted the crumpled bit of paper he’d tossed there earlier, the handful of words penned onto its surface carved into his memory like a blade scoring flesh.

  Cian,

  I imagine you’d hoped I wouldn’t learn your secret, but I have. I’ll give you a head start—though you better hurry. It’s time for the little witch and me to play.

  A

  It was a message that had chilled him to the bone the instant he’d woken in his Dublin apartment and found it waiting on his bedside table. His worst nightmare had come to life, because it meant that his oldest enemy had finally learned the truth about Sayre. That she was his. His life mate. The one female in the world who had been created for him and him alone.

  And now his bastard of a brother intended to kill her.

  Chapter 2

  Sayre Murphy stiffened at the sound of a car smoothly rumbling its way through the quiet forest that surrounded her home; a noise she didn’t often hear these days. She pulled off her gardening gloves and moved to her feet, turning away from the flourishing herb garden she’d been tending to cast a worried look toward the narrow dirt road that led right to her cabin. It wasn’t even noon yet, but the heat was already oppressive, which was why she was dressed in a pair of cutoff shorts and a tank top and nothing more. She no longer had any need to dress for company, and she sure as hell hadn’t been expecting any. Jillian and the others knew better than to show up unannounced, which meant that whoever was coming up her drive wasn’t going to be anyone in her family.

  And that meant they could be looking for trouble.

  She dropped her gloves beside a leafy, aromatic patch of basil and flexed her hands at her sides, confident that she could deal with any threat that might be approaching. As a Lycan witch, she didn’t possess the ability to shape-shift like the others in her pack—but with the strength of her powers these days, it didn’t matter. She could zap any person or creature that tried to get near her with a jolt of pure energy that had brought grown Lycans to their knees.

  “Ohmyfreakinggod.” The hoarse words slipped past her lips as a sleek black sports car came around the last bend in the road and she caught sight of the driver. Stunned, she lurched back as if she’d suddenly been kicked in the stomach. Cian Hennessey was the last person she’d ever expected to see, and she shuddered, every blasphemy she could think of screaming through her head. Gripping the front of her tank top, directly over the thundering beat of her heart, she pushed down as if she needed the physical pressure to keep the racing organ inside her chest.

  His pale gray eyes were locked hard on hers as he killed the engine, opened the door and unfolded his long, powerful body from behind the steering wheel. The sight of him had her stumbling back again, and she nearly fell on her bottom when the right heel of her hiking boot connected with the wooden edge of a flower bed.

  The morning sun was behind him now, shining directly into her eyes. It was difficult to make out his features as he headed directly for her, his long-legged stride making short work of the yards that separated them. But she felt him with every part of her. The pull between them was so strong she could have counted his thudding heartbeats down to the minute, or his quickening intakes of air. The closer he came, the more heightened her sensory perception grew, and she really hoped that it didn’t work in the reverse. She didn’t want this man reading her. Didn’t want him to feel the rushing of her pulse or the heat gathering beneath her skin, warm and thick and wild.

  And she sure as hell didn’t want him to know that there was a part of her breaking into sharp, jagged little pieces deep inside just because she was looking at him, breathing him in, completely and embarrassingly glomming on to every exquisite detail, after believing for so long that she’d never see him again. She knew there wasn’t a man alive who could make jeans, a black T-shirt and boots look so unbelievably good—his body appearing even harder than it’d been before, as if he’d spent the past five years engaged in brutal combat.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded as firmly as possible, when he came to a stop no more than ten feet in front of her and she finally managed to find her voice. The way his
long-lashed silver gaze swept hotly over her figure, taking her in from head to toe as if he had every right to what he saw had her vibrating with pure, volcanic rage. The freaking nerve of the guy! “No, scratch that. I don’t care why you’re here. Just get back in your car and go away, Hennessey. I don’t want you here.”

  He didn’t respond to her outburst in any way other than to take a step closer, and she was surprised when she found herself pulling in even deeper breaths of air through her nose, just so she could soak in that sexy-as-sin scent of his. A heady combination of the outdoors, musk and salt, it sat on her tongue like something she wanted to savor and suck on, and keep it there forever. She’d always enjoyed the way Cian had smelled, even when he carried the faint scent of cigarette smoke on his skin, but...whoa, her reaction had never been this intense before, as if she wanted to rub up against him like a kitten and get that mouthwatering scent all over her. More than a little rattled, she snapped, “Well? Are you going to stand there staring at me all day or are you at least going to say something?”

  “Sorry,” he rasped, the lilting sound of the brogue she knew he’d developed while growing up in Ireland even stronger than she remembered it, making her wonder where he’d been living. His tongue touched the corner of his mouth, and his thick lashes lowered over eyes she could have sworn had started to glow like melting metal, despite the tiredness she could see in them. “I just...you surprised me,” he added gruffly. “I didn’t expect you to be even more beautiful than you were before.”

  Wearing cutoff denim shorts with a threadbare tank top and scuffed boots on her feet, her long hair in a crazy swarm of curls around her shoulders and dirt probably smeared on her cheek? Um, yeah, like she was really rocking an attractive look at the moment. Shaking her head, she snorted at his lame-ass attempt at flattery. “We’ve never lied to each other before, Cian. It would be pointless to start now.”