by Quinn Loftis
“Hi, Kara.” Now he knew he shouldn’t say her name out loud because he practically purred it. Could he act any more like an infatuated teenager? “I’m Nick, as you already know.” He smiled at her and loved that she blushed. No, you don’t; you didn’t even notice that she blushed because you don’t notice sixteen year olds that blush, he thought to himself.
“How old are you?” he suddenly blurted out, still shaking her hand like an idiot.
She laughed and the way her face relaxed and all of the sorrow melted away made him want to be the one to make her laugh for the rest of her life. No, it doesn’t. You don’t want to make her laugh, you don’t like the way her eyes crinkle on the sides as she smiles, and you haven’t noticed that she meets your eyes when she speaks to you. SIXTEEN!
“I’m sixteen, but I’ll be seventeen in a couple months.”
“You seem older.”
“I’ve been told that before,” she admitted.
Nick knew he needed to walk away. Seventeen in a couple of months was certainly better than sixteen, but it still wasn’t legal. He needed to just let her be, and if she was to be his then in a year and two months he could claim her.
“Um,” she said as she glanced around him. “So I sort of need to go to my room, and you sort of take up a lot of space.”
He laughed at that. He really wasn’t that big. Six one was actually short compared to most of the males in his pack. But she was small, not just short, but her frame was petite as well. That must be why he wanted to protect her, because she was small, and it was in his instinct to protect those smaller than him. Okay now he was just reaching.
“Right, okay I’ll just. . . .” He stepped to the right just as she stepped to her left. They both smiled as they nearly bumped into each other again. Finally he grabbed her waist, picked her up effortlessly, and turned―putting her on the floor behind him. Her room was only a few feet down the hall. And he didn’t know that because he had been following her scent or anything weird like that.
“Nice bumping into you,” he said and smiled and then turned away from her hoping he didn’t really sound as nerdy as he thought he did. Nice bumping into you, really, Nick? He hurried down the stairs deciding that a run was in order. “Man, it’s going to be a long year and two months,” he muttered under his breath.
~
Kara closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it as she closed her eyes. She let out a deep breath as she remembered Nick’s hands on her waist. She could not deny that it wasn’t the first time she had thought about Nick. At first she had chalked it up to the fact that he stood out to her because of the shaved head and black obsidian glass eyes. He was striking to be sure. But over the months her fascination with him was bordering on obsessive. She couldn’t believe that he hadn’t noticed her staring at him or subtly following when he would go to a different room or even outside to practice with the others. She usually had a book with her so perhaps she was good at pulling off the, I’m just a teenager lost in my paranormal romance don’t mind me, look. She knew it was just wishful thinking that he would be her true mate. No one like Nick would want someone like her. Not to mention he probably didn’t even see her as potential mate material because of her age. Nope, Nick probably wasn’t her true mate. And that would be a damn shame because she certainly couldn’t ever imagine someone else’s hands on her hips or even her name sounding the way it did when he said it. She glanced out the window as she heard the back door slam and saw Nick shedding his shirt. He was about to run as a wolf. So maybe he wasn’t her mate and she should give it up; but there was nothing wrong with enjoying the view, right? His head turned back and looked straight up at her window. The piercing black eyes met hers, and before she quickly backed away, she could have sworn she saw something that looked like longing.
~
That is interesting, Ciro thought as he saw the exchange between the young Canadian Beta and the even younger healer, Kara. Maybe he wasn’t the only one feeling a pull toward his mate. It would be odd if Nick was feeling drawn to Kara since she wasn’t of age, but not impossible. For himself, his mate bond was still growing. He had noticed how restless Kale and Gustavo were, especially in comparison to Drayden and Banan, and was beginning to have suspicions that they too had begun to feel a mate bond. Ciro wondered if Peri had truly thought it through when she took the females to the pixie realm. Had she considered what she would have on her hands if three dominant males began to feel the bond of a mate they had waited centuries for and yet couldn’t get to? His own wolf was ready to leave. The wolf’s allegiance was to his mate first and to the pack second. So the wolf didn’t understand why they were still here instead of seeking out their mate. But the man knew that as long as she wasn’t in danger, they could continue to cooperate to keep the peace. Peace is overrated, his wolf growled. Ciro laughed and, in this instance, would have to agree with his wolf.
Chapter 9
“What is my life coming to that I can’t even feel safe in my dreams? Sleep used to be a time that I could escape into worlds my mind built but now it seemed it was a cage.” ~Jewel
Volcan slipped into Jewel’s mind once he felt the wolf leave her presence. He was surprised at how well the bond he had created with her was working. He could virtually feel her emotions, which made him aware of what was going on around her, despite her unconscious state. Now that the bond was open between her and her true mate, he was able to see completely into her mind. All was laid bare to him—every weakness, every fear, every dark thing that he could twist to his advantage. To his surprise, the things that made Jewel Stone tremble had nothing to do with being pretty, popular, or wealthy. When he looked deep into her soul, Volcan could see that what she feared most was the unknown. A lack of knowledge to her was just as detrimental as a lack of food.
He waited a few minutes longer to make sure her mate was not going to return and then he slipped into her mind.
“Did you miss me?” he asked using Dalton’s voice.
“I’m not sure that I can miss someone that I don’t really know.” Her voice was cool and reserved.
“What has changed, little dove?”
Jewel stood once again in the study that Volcan, masquerading as Dalton, had created through the mental connection. She watched as Volcan moved towards her. He looked just as he had before, like her mate except for the eyes. She knew that it was important that he didn’t find out that she was on to him.
“What do you mean?” she asked as nonchalantly as she could.
“When I came to you before, you could hardly catch your breath for need of me. So I ask again, what has changed?”
Jewel decided that a grain of truth might make the lie more convincing. “Perhaps, I don’t like needing someone so much.”
He chuckled, sending a shiver down her spine. It wasn’t the shiver that she got when her Dalton chuckled. “No, I imagine you don’t. If you don’t need someone, then what is it that you need? Everyone needs something, Jewel.”
“Perhaps, I have everything that I need,” she challenged.
“If that were true then I would not feel the emptiness or the raw wounds that you still nurse when no one is looking.”
Jewel didn’t like that he could see so much of her. Her pain was her own and she had no desire to share it with someone like Volcan. She was carefully keeping a wall around the thoughts that she knew she had to keep safe. Even though she had no plans to use the mental wall in order to block Volcan out completely, she could use it to keep him from knowing some things. Apparently, she wasn’t able to keep him out of her memories and out of her current thoughts at the same time. He had been making himself at home in her past.
Before she could respond he continued. “As your mate I feel your wounds, love. I feel all those times you felt rejected, unwanted, unnoticed, and powerless. It angers me to know that you felt so helpless and I was not there to do anything for you.”
Jewel heard the words, but unlike when her true mate spoke such caring
things to her, there was no passion in Volcan’s voice. The words were hollow.
“But I’m here now,” he said as he took a step closer to her. “I can make sure you never feel helpless or powerless again.”
She felt a tremor of need flow through her at his words―not need for him, but need for the things he promised―and it sickened her. She felt dirty all of a sudden, pretending that he was her mate when she in fact knew he wasn’t somehow contaminated her. She thought she could keep up the pretense but she couldn’t. The temptation was just too great. She would just have to figure out another way to help Dalton and Peri find Volcan. She made a split second decision then.
“I know who you are,” she admitted to him. His brow rose in surprise. “Please take off Dalton’s face.”
His eyes narrowed on her, but to her surprise he didn’t argue. One minute it had been Dalton standing before her, and the next it was a tall, thin male with white hair and pale skin that appeared to be stretched too tight over his skeleton. His lips had a blue hue and his eyes were so dark she felt as though she were falling into a black hole. Okay, so now she totally understood why he didn’t approach her as himself. Faaareak, she thought.
“Volcan,” she said, her voice surprisingly cordial, considering he was the reason she had been chomped on by a possessed fae lady.
“What gave me away?”
“They say the eyes are the window to the soul.” Jewel took a step back to better look at him and to get her bearings.
“Ahh,” he said, tilting his head back slightly as he crossed his arms in front of his thin frame. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. “The eyes, I always forget to change the color. That’s what did it isn’t it?”
Jewel didn’t want to tell him that she had talked to Dalton about it and that was really how she figured it out. Better to just let him think that she was the only one who knew about his little charade. “What do you want, Volcan?” she asked in a voice that sounded much steadier than she felt.
“The same thing you want, Jewel Stone—power.”
“I don’t want power.”
“Ah-ah-ah, no lying. I have seen your thoughts, remember? I have felt your darkest fears and deepest pains. I know exactly what you want, what you crave. You want knowledge, Jewel, because knowledge makes you feel powerful. When your classmates rejected you, refused to invite you to their gatherings, when they made fun of your mother, or teased you about your social status, what did you do? You sought out information in any form you could get it because it made you feel less like the helpless girl that you were.”
Jewel gritted her teeth together. She took several deep breaths, attempting to keep herself calm because she didn’t want to show the dark fae that he was getting to her.
“And,” he continued. “When your test scores started reflecting all of your knowledge, your power, if you will, you began to realize that you didn’t have to be accepted by your peers. In fact, you didn’t need to be accepted by them because they were beneath you. If they graphed your IQ on a chart with theirs, there wouldn’t be enough paper to show the difference from you score down to theirs. By gaining power, you realized that you didn’t need approval.”
Jewel’s head was shaking of its own accord. That’s not how she thought of herself…was it? -----Sure she tended to turn to books, to learning anytime she was once again shunned by peers, or reminded that she was an outcast and always would be. She loved to learn, loved to see how much information she could cram into her mind. And maybe when she realized that the people she went to school with, the ones who had been cruel to her over and over again over the years couldn’t hold a candle to her test scores, she had felt powerful. She had felt in control. But that didn’t mean she craved power.
“I am not power hungry just because I want to learn,” she informed him.
“No, you are power hungry because you hate the idea of being helpless. Tell me Jewel.” He sidestepped her, moved a few paces away, and sat down on the edge of a large wooden desk that she was pretty sure hadn’t been in there the first time she had mentally visited the study. “What do you think your life as a true mate to a dominant Canis lupis will be like? And what about as a healer to the wolves? Do you honestly believe that it will be different than the life you have known?” He didn’t give her a chance to answer but just kept on bombarding her with questions. “Have you considered your place in a wolf pack? You are female, and you will be mated to a Beta, the second most dominant male in a pack. He will have expectations of you, just as your pack will have expectations of you as his mate. He will expect your obedience because, as he will tell you, he wants to keep you safe. But perhaps it’s just because he thinks you’re too weak and unintelligent to be able to take care of yourself? You will always be in his shadow because he sure isn’t going to let you walk beside of or in front of him—you are the weaker vessel. And let’s not forget your precious role as a gypsy healer,” Volcan crooned. “The ultimate servant. I bet no one has told you about that part.”
“Well, I’ve sort of been in a coma for a couple months, so I can’t really blame them,” she told him, trying at all costs not to reveal that his words were beginning to truly plant some serious seeds of doubt.
“Well, I will be happy to enlighten you. As you may know, I am, or rather was, a high fae. As such, I knew every gypsy healer that has ever been. I have spent time with them, time with the packs, and seen exactly what it is to be a healer. The wolves will tell you it is an honor and only certain females are chosen within the bloodlines to take on such an important role. What they don’t tell you is that you are there to serve, not just a few, but everyone. Your job is to take care of the injured, the pregnant females, the ones that might be struggling with any sort of darkness, or the ones in need of reassurance. You will put pack above yourself because it is expected of you. You will kneel to all and be served by none. I suppose some might find the role of a gypsy healer to be romantic, but truly, what is romantic about a male who is willing to let his mate practically be a slave?”
He was twisting the truth, she knew it, and yet she still heard some solid ring in it regardless of the twist. Would she lose herself under Dalton’s dominance and possessiveness? Would she still be at the bottom of her peers as a gypsy healer? There was a part of her that was screaming, come on get a clue―you are smarter than that. But then there was another voice―one that she had heard to many times before in the past. The voice that told her she would always be the outcast and always be the one searching for the approval of others but never finding it. The one who ran to the solace of her books to avoid any chance of rejection. Stuck beneath a pack of wolves who expect your service and beneath a mate who wants your obedience. She could tell herself until she was blue in the face that she didn’t crave power, but if craving power was the same thing as craving knowledge then she was guilty as charged.
She had vowed to herself that as soon as the final grade was set and the diploma was printed, she was going to move on with her life away from the people who had treated her as though she were nothing but an annoying quadratic equation that they must deal with before they move on to something enjoyable. Now she was in a world that she never knew existed—although to be fair, her mother had tried to warn her—and there were so many new possibilities. But she didn’t know if those possibilities were any different from the life she had already endured for too long. She felt a deep pang in her chest, and she knew it was the stab of disappointment because she so badly wanted it to be different.
“Maybe you don’t know all the facts since you are a fae and not a Canis lupis,” she said, grasping at straws.
“I know that I can offer you what you want without expecting you to be my servant.”
“That’s not totally true, Volcan. You want whatever power it is that a gypsy healer possesses. You want me for my power. How am I any less of a pawn for you?” She knew she shouldn’t even be arguing with him. She shouldn’t even be attempting to see what he wanted because she shouldn’t be inter
ested in what he was offering. That hadn’t been the plan, and yet a little voice inside her whispered, you would never be insignificant again. She should tell the little voice to jump off a cliff, but instead she waited to see what the dark fae would say.
“I will not deny that I would like for you to share your magic with me. But I can give you so much in return. I can give you thousands of years of knowledge. I can teach you secrets that books never could. I will not expect you to serve me, but to simply be my companion.”
The wheels in Jewel’s mind were turning as she desperately tried to keep the walls up in her mind so that Volcan couldn’t know her true thoughts. She could not deny for a second that some of what he said resonated deep inside of her. She hated feeling insignificant, hated feeling as though she was helpless to change her situation or the opinions of others. If she stayed with Dalton and became his mate and lived out the whole gypsy healer scenario, would that mean she would always be seen as helpless and weak? But if she agreed to be Volcan’s companion, did that make her evil?
“I need some time,” she finally said to him.
“I can understand that; it’s a big decision. I will allow you three days. When I return I will expect your decision.”
“What decision is that?”
“Your life or theirs,” he said coolly. “If you agree to come with me, be my companion, and allow me access to your power, I will in turn give you the knowledge you seek in order to not feel helpless and weak. I will teach you everything and anything you want to know. I will also leave the other healers alone, and I will leave the wolves to themselves.”
