Winter Wishes

by Vivian Arend, Vivi Andrews

  Shane caught both of her wrists and somehow urged them up over her head. “Or mine.”

  The urge to laugh vanished, swallowed in sudden, painful arousal. Thick flannel pajamas didn’t hide his arousal or the burning heat of his body. She inched her legs apart and moaned when he settled more firmly against her. “I’d enjoy testing so much of you.”

  “Would you?” He was watching her, his expression odd even in the darkness. “Why?”

  Why? She’d always tested everything. Her boundaries, the rules, the outer reaches of her magic. She’d tested her lovers and the line between pleasure and pain.

  It wasn’t curiosity that drove her to test him. It was craving. Hunger. “Because I want all of you.”

  His grin flashed white in the darkness. “You do, don’t you? Every goddamn inch.”

  She’d felt his erection pressed against her bottom and knew he’d fill her, driving so wonderfully deep. “Show me how to make love when it’s too cold to be naked.”

  “I could roll you over, take you from behind,” he whispered in her ear. “Or I could promise to keep you warm.”

  The glint in his eyes was too stirring to give up. She couldn’t move her hands, but turning her head let her close her teeth on his earlobe. “Whatever you’re going to do, start soon.”

  “Uh-uh. Control, remember?”

  She bit his ear again. Harder.

  He growled again, his hands skating under the sleeping bag and blankets. He hooked his thumbs in her waistband and dragged her pants down, just far enough to ease one hand between her thighs. Calloused fingertips slid against her, and her breath caught at the sensation.

  So fast, but he would know she didn’t need a slow seduction and teasing foreplay. He’d feel the slickness of her arousal, know she could take him now, that the thought made her even wetter.

  She told him as much, murmuring the words against his cheek. “I’m ready for you.”

  “Never had a man go slow?” he rasped. His touch retreated, returned. Delved deeper.

  Often enough, but never a man whose eyes blazed with a lust that eclipsed simple desire. Perhaps control was its own quiet aphrodisiac, when a man knew how to wield it.

  Shane knew. Her body spun tight as he worked his fingers inside her, his gaze never leaving her face. It had been endless months since she’d taken a lover, not since she’d been tainted by her sister’s defection. She was alive again, remembering pleasure as a rusty moan escaped her.

  Flannel abraded her nipples. She arched against the hard wall of his chest, rubbing against him to relieve the ache, but she only succeeded in making it sharper. “Shane.”

  He captured her mouth again, swallowing her moans and answering them with hoarse masculine groans of encouragement. His fingers curved inside her, seeking, and his thumb swept up to tease her clit. Softly at first, until she found the leverage to lift her hips and show him what she needed.

  He gave it to her. Firm touches, fingers rocking, thumb circling, and when he found the spot inside that made colors explode behind her eyelids, she tore her mouth away and begged. She begged as tension twisted in her middle, as her toes dug into the sleeping bag and her breasts rubbed against his chest. Her elbow crashed into the box again, and this time she didn’t care, too intent on the climax that hung just out of reach of her grasping hands, until desperation made her cry out.

  His mouth moved lower, and he pushed her head back with his jaw, bared her throat in one desperate motion. Then he bit her, hard enough to arch her back even more. Her fingers found his hair, and she tangled her other hand in the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him as all the heat he’d given her shattered into pleasure.

  Shane trailed his lips over her cheek as she drifted down, whispering gentle words that soothed. “That’s it, Nadia. Just like that.”

  If not for his body above hers, she might have drifted away. For the first time, she was completely thawed, warm and loose limbed and so relaxed she couldn’t stop smiling, even as she kissed him. His lips, his cheek, then his jaw as she skated one hand down his back to shove at his pants.

  He caught her wrist. “Not right now, honey.”

  Confusion pierced her lazy satisfaction. “What?”

  “It’s all right.”

  He might as well be speaking a different language. “What is all right?”

  He stilled, then pulled her hand up, out of the blankets. “I don’t think we should do this right now. Not like that.”

  “Why?” She tried to tug her hand free. “You don’t want me?”

  Shane groaned again. “Fuck, Nadia, of course I do.”

  “Then why?” Another tug and this time he released her hand. Not that it did her a bit of good—trapped beneath him in the confines of the truck, there was nowhere to go.

  “I don’t have any condoms, and I don’t—” He bit off a curse. “It’s the magic, right? Heading south in more ways than one.”

  Condoms. Humans’ clumsy attempt to control nature. Some of the other tribes traded in such oddities, but she’d never met a son of the tribes who wanted to use one, not when magic was more effective—and far less awkward. “If I did not have a way to protect myself, I would never have asked you to make love to me. The spell required very little power.”

  His jaw tightened. “Protect yourself from what, exactly?”

  Did he think she meant to protect herself from him? “The things that would require a condom. I’m not careless enough to risk a child when I have no home.”

  “And diseases? We still have them. Do your people?”

  Her cheeks heated with the first stirrings of temper. “We’re not primitives, incapable of understanding medicine. Our magic is far more reliable than the methods humans use to prevent such problems.”

  “And you want me to take your word for that.” He didn’t seem upset, or even offended. He mostly seemed tired.

  His utter calm twisted the knife of his distrust until her heart bled from it. She slammed both hands into his shoulders as misery formed a painful knot in her throat. “Get off of me. Please.”

  He shifted away too quickly and cursed when his elbow slammed into the side of the camper shell. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Nadia.”

  She didn’t care. She made it onto her side, turned away from him, where he wouldn’t see her rage turning to bitter tears of frustration and pain. “You didn’t mean to sound as if I’m a savage who would trick you into touching her disease-ridden body and getting a child on her? As if I have so little respect for myself that I’d lie about such a thing?”

  He didn’t say anything for a long time. “You’re right. I’m a bigoted asshole. Now aren’t you glad you didn’t fuck me?”

  Answering would reveal the depth of her pain, something she’d never be able to keep from her voice. It took everything she was to lie still, to not shake as the vastness of her solitude settled over her.

  She was alone, more alone than she’d ever been before. Her tribe might not accept her back. If the elders had been trying to rid themselves of an untrustworthy warrior, they might just sell her again—there were always human scientists willing to pay for test subjects, considering those subjects’ short life expectancies. Or her people might eliminate her once and for all.

  Whether they’d betrayed her or not, they’d long since shunned her. She could easily imagine her life now, an endless sea of strangers who would look upon her customs and find them peculiar. Who would mistrust her or dislike her. Who would push her away to protect themselves.

  She swallowed and found the strength to speak quietly. “I’m sure things will seem better in the morning.”

  “Yeah. I’m sure they will.”

  Tears burned. Burned her eyes, spilled over the bridge of her nose as she turned her head into her rough pillow. If she’d been outside in the frozen night, they might have crystallized into ice.

  So foolish, crying over a man. Over a clumsy rejection from someone she barely knew. She must have become soft in recent m
onths to let his sarcasm and his disinterest wound her. To need his comfort and affection so much that being shoved away felt like a mortal blow.

  How wildly her people would laugh. How low they’d say she’d fallen. Crying over a werewolf.

  Things would seem better in the morning. They had to, if only because she could hardly imagine a moment more humiliating than this.

  Chapter Six

  He was a coward.

  Shane clenched his teeth so tightly his jaw ached as he navigated another slick curve in the road. Nadia’s tense, withdrawn silence was nothing less than torment and nothing less than he deserved.

  He knew he had to explain, but where the hell could he begin? You see, I pissed you off on purpose because I don’t trust myself. And it has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the dead woman whose shirt you’re wearing. That would end well. He’d be lucky if she didn’t knock him out cold and roll him into the nearest ditch.

  The sky had been blue for much of the morning, but now it looked gray and overcast. Next to him, Nadia shivered. “Is there another storm coming?”

  “Maybe.” Definitely, but the last thing he wanted was to scare the hell out of her if they didn’t manage to get to shelter.

  A nod and she turned to look out the window. “I’ll make do.”

  More than anything, she sounded numb. Resigned to the hell that stretched out before her.

  “Look,” he began. “Can we talk about last night?”

  He heard her heartbeat jump. She gave no indication, simply continued to stare at the snow. “Of course, if you want.”

  “I don’t think we have a choice.” They couldn’t have it hanging over their heads. He couldn’t have it, even though it was entirely his fault.

  “We had a misunderstanding,” she said, voice stiff. “We wanted different things. I’m not sure there’s anything either of us can say to change that.”

  “I took the easy way out,” he confessed. “That shit I pulled last night wasn’t about you, but it was easier to let you think it was. So I did, and I’m sorry.”

  “It occurred to me.” She slanted a look at him, piercing and angry. “It even occurred to me that you might have thought you were protecting me, though I’d prefer your disregard to misplaced condescension.”

  He swallowed every argument or rationalization that rose. “Understood.”

  “Is it?” Her hands came to rest on her knees, and he’d spent enough time with her to know that if her mittens hadn’t prevented it, she would have laced her fingers together until her knuckles turned white. “Do you understand the depth of the insult when a man decides he deserves to choose the form your pain takes?”

  Don’t, Shane. Don’t— “What makes you think it was about your pain at all?”

  She paused. Tilted her head. “You did.”

  “Well, it wasn’t.”

  “All right.” The momentary spark fizzled, turning her voice numb again. “I’m sorry to have caused you pain. It won’t happen again.”

  He didn’t have time to argue, not if he was going to keep them alive, especially in uncertain weather. He needed his focus, needed—

  He caught a flash of something, right angles through the steady snow. A sign of some sort, still standing, though the letters had long since worn away. “I think there might be a stopover cabin up ahead.”

  Nadia perked up a little. “Do you think it will have a bathtub?”

  “Some do. Standing showers, at least.”

  Her wistful sigh filled the truck’s cab. “Do you think…”

  The truck lurched, and Shane gritted his teeth as he carefully righted it. “Do I think?”

  “It’s not important.”

  The drive was gravel, not quite as slick as the cracked and damaged blacktop of the winding road. “Spit it out, Nadia.”

  “I’d thought we could stay an extra night here.” Her fingers curled around the seat. “But getting to the border as quickly as possible should be our priority. It was a passing thought.”

  He glanced at the sky again and shook his head. “We may not be able to leave before then.”

  “I see.” She kept her voice calm, but she couldn’t hide her fear. He heard it in the pounding of her heart, could almost smell it, acrid and sharp, in the cab of the truck.

  He spoke without thinking. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I know.” No hesitation, no quaver or change in tone that would indicate a lie. “I think I’ll always be afraid of the storms. Cowardly for a warrior, I suppose.”

  The cabin came into view, a squat, square structure with a heavy-looking door and no windows. It looked solid, provided it was empty. There were no vehicles or tracks, but the snow was fresh and still accumulating. Hard to tell, especially if someone had pulled around back or into the surrounding forest to hide their presence.

  Shane tugged at his door handle. “It’ll be fine.”

  Nadia didn’t respond. She pushed open her door and slid out into the drive. Snow came to her knees and continued to fall from the sky in fat flakes that gathered on the hand she held aloft. Surrounded by cold and ice, which usually left her shivering, she looked strangely pensive. “It feels different here.”

  “Different how?” He hurried to walk in front of her. At least he could break a path to the door and keep her from floundering around.

  When he looked back, she was still standing there, her hand up, her eyes slightly unfocused. He said her name, and she started and brushed the snowflakes from her hand. “Odd. It feels odd.”

  The hair on the back of his neck lifted. “Odd like dangerous?”

  “No.” She reached his side and actually smiled. “No, it feels…welcoming.”

  They could be near a spring or some other pocket of energy that would fuel her magic. “That’s good, right?”

  “If we’re going to be trapped here—” she shrugged, “—it won’t be as dangerous for me if the earth isn’t quite as draining.”

  Only one way to answer that. “Come on.”

  The door had been chained and padlocked, and Shane rattled it with a curse. “We’ll have to break this.”

  Nadia stripped off her mittens and touched the padlock with her fingertips. “Old-fashioned,” she murmured, then closed her eyes.

  With a whispered syllable, her hand began to glow. She dug her teeth into her lower lip, concentration furrowing her brow. Underneath his feet, the world seemed to stir, power rising with an almost tangible sleepiness. It circled, brushing over him, and focused on Nadia as if the earth itself was welcoming her.

  The chain holding the door shut crumbled, and the padlock hit the ground with a thump. Nadia jerked her hand back and frowned. “I suppose that works.”

  He stared at the sundered metal. “Did you even mean to do that?”

  “I meant to weaken the lock.” An admission, one she didn’t sound entirely pleased to make. “The earth is awake. It doesn’t feel malicious, just…eager.”

  It didn’t feel that way to him. Normally, he would have been glad not to battle the awakening beast, but their circumstances made it impossible not to worry about the seemingly dead earth beneath him. “I don’t feel anything.”

  “And I feel too much.” She pushed the door open. “I wonder if something happened here that changed the flow of magic. There are rituals that can be performed, or sometimes, in periods of great upheaval, a witch can bind herself to the earth.”

  The front room was filled with equipment of some kind, covered with dusty sheets of plastic. Shane peeled back one edge to expose a cart with a computer terminal and a microscope. “Not a cabin, after all.”

  “No.” The fear was back, her heart pounding, her breathing too fast. She lifted another piece of plastic and uncovered a pair of smooth silver collars. “Not a cabin.”

  A research station, maybe just like the one she’d run from, except this one was dead. Quiet. “There’s no one here, Nadia. No one but you and me.”

  “And the ghosts.” She r
eached out, her fingers hovering over the collar, but she seemed reluctant to touch it. “Maybe that’s what I feel in the earth. It wants to protect me.”

  He cupped her elbow in his hand. “The bulk of the facility must be underground. We need to look for access and find the control center. Maybe we can get some power in here.” It would be better than the pitch-dark that would descend when they closed the front door behind them.

  “I can—” The light formed before she got her hand up, a cheerful glowing ball a foot across. The power seemed to dance, flickering in yellows and reds, like firelight across her skin.

  She pursed her lips, clearly bemused. “It’s like a puppy that’s trying to please me. I’ve never felt anything quite like it.”

  Definitely not magic the human scientists would have courted, even if they’d been able. “Maybe that’s why they left. Hard to control test subjects who have that kind of magic at their beck and call.”

  Nadia began to explore the room, the ball of light bobbing behind her as she moved. “It’s a trade-off. In the north, we’re easy to control, but we don’t last long. Building here, on a pocket of power, might have seemed like a solution, but I’d wager the first witches they brought here banded together and attuned themselves to the earth.”

  With potentially disastrous results—at least for the scientists. “Good for them.”

  The second door revealed a set of stairs leading down. Nadia stepped away and glanced at him. “Did you want to look for whatever is necessary to turn on the power? I’m not sure I’d recognize it even if I found it.”

  She obviously didn’t want to descend into the darkness, so Shane pulled his LED flashlight from his pocket. “I’ll find it. Will you be okay staying up here?”

  “I’ll be fine. I can bring in some supplies, before the weather turns worse.”

  He tensed at the thought of her outside alone, but he nodded. “Better to hurry. If I don’t find something in ten minutes, I’ll come back up, and we’ll make do.”

  “Thank you, Shane.” Her smile looked ragged around the edges. “If this is like the place where they kept me…the cells are underground. I’d prefer to stay upstairs, if I can.”