A Mate's Sacrifice: (Hot Paranormal Romance) (Ozark Mountain Shifters Book 2)

by P. Jameson

Braeh sighed.

  After returning everything to its place, she took the gun into the living room. Hottie McHotpants was still passed out with no sign of waking and Kerri hadn’t yet responded to Braeh’s text.

  She grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, yanking hard when she realized the corner was caught under his hip. Then she took it with her to sit in the chair. She was already going to have to sleep in a chair tonight, no way was he getting the blanket too. She could’ve locked herself in the bedroom, but it didn’t seem right to let a stranger in her sister’s home and then not keep an eye on him. The chair wasn’t the least bit comfortable but she didn’t plan on sleeping too soundly.

  That was her last thought before she drifted off, sleeping heavier than should have been possible with a strange man on the couch.

  ***

  She awoke hours later, to the feeling of someone watching her. Braeh peeked her eyes open to see that it was still dark outside. Barely. The sky was a weird shade between blue and gray. The color of a bruise.

  Carefully, she moved her hand to her gun before fully opening her eyes. McHotpants was seated at the end of the couch farthest away from her, arms crossed, and looking ill. So… not about to attack her or anything. Good to know.

  His gaze turned into a glare when he realized she was awake.

  “What’s your name?” His voice was like sandpaper to her barely awake ears.

  She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Braeh. What’s yours?”

  The intensity of his stare eased a bit. His lips moved to form her name but no sound came out. Like he was mouthing it.

  “Look, I’m new to this whole shifter thing. I don’t know all the dos and don’ts, so if you could clue me in, that might be helpful. Starting with your name.”

  “Vesh.”

  “Your name is Vesh?” His name sent an embarrassing shiver up her spine. It was so… sexy. There was nobody named Vesh where she was from.

  Braeh noticed the tick in his jaw as he gave a single nod.

  “Nice to meet you, Vesh. I’m guessing you’re a friend of Trager’s?”

  Vesh’s lip curled.

  “Or… not. Listen, you’ve obviously been hurt. Let me help clean you up, and then we can talk about why you’re here. Your eye is still bleeding and Kerri would kill me if we got blood on her furniture.”

  “You want to help me.” His voice was skeptical. “Even though you don’t know me. I could very well be here to kill you.”

  She sat forward, resting her elbows on her knees, the gun hanging loosely from her hand. She stared at him, searching, as if she could garner his intentions with her non-existent x-ray vision.

  “Nah. You weren’t looking for me. You were looking for Kerri.”

  An odd look crossed his face, but then he recovered. “And what if I was here to kill her? Wouldn’t that bother you?”

  Braeh laughed, a single, short sound. “Bother me?” She dropped her voice to a menacing whisper, and leaned forward to stare directly into his eyes. “When I was a little girl, my father taught me how to hunt. He taught me how to track my prey, and where to hit for a clean kill. But see, he also taught me how to skin our catch. It wouldn’t be that much of a difference to just, say, skip the kill part and go straight to the skinning. I mean, if you were here to hurt my sister, that’s how much it would ‘bother’ me.”

  Vesh’s eyes narrowed, and his gaze changed, heated. He seemed to be considering her words, his stare touching on parts of her body besides just her face.

  He tilted his head, finally looking away. “I wasn’t going to hurt your sister,” he muttered.

  “Great. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s fix that cut.”

  Braeh stood, shoving the gun in her sweatshirt pocket, and went to the kitchen. She grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, and a banana from the bowl on the counter before returning to the living room. Vesh was seated on the edge of the couch, staring at the floor as if it was the morning newspaper or something.

  She whistled, two short notes to get his attention. “Let’s go. Bathroom’s this way.” She didn’t wait to see if he followed.

  In the bathroom, she set the food on the counter and dug through the cabinets, locating Kerrigan’s first-aid kit, and the peroxide. Luckily, there was also some butterfly bandages. Hopefully his wound wouldn’t need stitches. She could do them; she just really, really didn’t want to. Needles and skin made no good combination, in her opinion. The thing she’d said about skinning him alive. That wasn’t something she was looking forward to either, so he’d better be telling the truth about his intentions.

  The room was tiny already, but when Vesh stepped in, it seemed a thousand times smaller. On top of being exceptionally tall, he was also built. Braeh swallowed. Arms like that… what would it feel like to be held by those puppies?

  Damn.

  Her last boyfriend had gone the way of the toilet when he was hired to work for her father. She couldn’t be with someone who was at her daddy’s beck and call. No. She loved him dearly, but he was entirely too manipulative. It was always in “her best interest”, but still. She needed to be in control of her life, not anyone else. Falling in love with someone who was under her father’s thumb was out of the question.

  But back to the muscles. Her ex hadn’t had guns like these.

  She pointed to the toilet. “Sit.”

  He raised an eyebrow, but lowered his body. She felt his eyes on her as she wet the gauze with the peroxide. Then she stepped in between his legs. He pulled back, but really, there was no other way for her to reach him. The bathroom was too awkward.

  Braeh bit the inside of her cheek.

  He didn’t like to be touched, she noticed. Both times she’d tried, he’d reacted strangely.

  “You okay?” She kept her tone quiet and void of judgment.

  Vesh stared at her for several silent moments before the tension around his eyes relaxed, and he nodded.

  “Tilt your head a bit.”

  He complied and carefully she pressed the gauze to where his skin was split just above his eyebrow. With one hand on his forehead, she wiped the blood away with the other so she could get a good look at the cut.

  As she gently prodded the wound, the tension eased out of him. As if she was giving him a massage instead of patching him up. His eyes drifted closed. His shoulders relaxed. The creases in his brow disappeared.

  Braeh twisted to get more peroxide, but his hand came up to circle her wrist. His touch was gentle but firm.

  “I don’t need that.”

  “It’s to keep it from getting infected.”

  He shook his head. “I can heal. If you just put your hands on my face… If you touch me…” He seemed unsure. “If you put your hands on me, I will heal faster.”

  Braeh wanted to laugh. It sounded like he was after a pity lay. Yeah, baby. It’s called sexual healing. Except he didn’t seem like the type to do that. And especially since he’d flinched away from her touch twice now. And there was something genuine about his trepidation.

  If he was asking her to touch him, there must be a reason. A wolfy reason.

  Braeh put the gauze aside. “Okay. Show me where.”

  Vesh took her hand and placed her cool palm against his hot cheek. She liked the feel of it. Rough and stubbly, but also smooth close to his eyelids. The bruises there pulled at her heart. He’d obviously been in some kind of fight. She brought her other hand up, cradling his face, her thumbs sweeping over the dark swollen spots above his cheek bones.

  He drew in a deep shuddering breath, his eyes clamping shut.

  She was about to call him on his claim that this would help him, but then the craziest thing happened. The black marks under his eyes began to fade. Slowly, at first. So gradual that she almost thought she was imagining it. When the bruises were completely gone, she couldn’t deny it though.

  Braeh’s heart thundered in her chest. “What the…”

  She brought his head closer, noticing
how hard he breathed. Time passed—what seemed like forever—as she watched the swelling around his nose go down. The cut on his lip mended. And the skin above his eye…

  Braeh blinked over and over, as if it would change what she was seeing. But no, the cut above his eye was indeed, closing.

  “That’s amazing,” she breathed.

  His eyes opened, and his gaze was raw and purely animal. In that moment it was crystal clear that the man before her was not human. But oddly, that fact didn’t scare her.

  Staring into his hard eyes, she continued stroking his cheek. They were so close, their breath mingled. “What’s happening?” she whispered. “How is this possible? Is it because you’re a wolf?”

  He opened his mouth to say something, but then nodded. He inhaled deeply through his nose. Once, twice, three times.

  When the wound was completely closed, leaving only a pink scar, Braeh went to pull her hands away. Vesh made an indescribable sound—something between a groan and a growl—and snatched her hand in his, yanking her close. Braeh gasped at his quick move. The ferocity of it, mixed with the gentle grip he had on her, was baffling.

  But he seemed to catch himself. Instead of pulling her body flush against his, he slowly, carefully, brought her wrist to his lips. Inhaled deeply, his eyes falling closed. And placed the softest kiss along the inside.

  “Thank you.” His voice was rough, but she couldn’t care. She could hardly even breathe. That kiss, so simple that it almost amounted to nothing, was the single most intimate moment of her entire twenty-two year existence.

  Her chest felt tight. Her bones felt loose. Had he put a spell on her? Could werewolves even do that?

  Whatever it was, she prayed it wouldn’t last long. She needed to be strong. And as Kerri had proven in the past, falling for the wrong guy could be devastating. Somehow, she knew Vesh was definitely the wrong guy.

  Chapter Three

  Vesh couldn’t decide what he felt. It was as if he’d been dumped in a blender with every emotion known to man, and mixed around until nothing could be sorted anymore. It was the cruelest kind of punishment to feel this many conflicting emotions in the span of just a few hours.

  Part of that was due to his shifter qualities. Fall fast and fall hard, was their motto when it came to mates. Why should he expect it to be any different with him?

  Except it was. Because a huge part of him wanted nothing to do with her. Despised her hands on him, her ability to help him heal. Was revolted by the look of amazement on her face.

  Disgust and admiration.

  Desire and repulsion.

  Attraction and aversion.

  He’d known her only a few hours and already what they had was sick. Tainted.

  He should go, and never come back. But there were two reasons he stayed: one, his wolf wouldn’t let him leave—not without a fight, and fighting yourself was never a winning game—and two, she could lead him to Trager.

  Vesh focused on number two. If he could keep his mind on his mission, maybe he could get through the next few days and decide what to do with his mate. One step at a time. Scale one mountain before the next, as the Elders always say.

  Braeh pulled her hand away, and Vesh had to fight the urge to hold tighter so she couldn’t.

  She grabbed the bottled water from the counter and uncapped the lid. “Here. Drink.”

  His mate was a bossy little thing. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not. As the leader of the Ozarka guard, he was used to calling the shots. People followed his orders, did his bidding. Not the other way around.

  He eyed her. But when she stared at him expectantly, he took the bottle and drank.

  She peeled the banana, and he assumed she’d command him to eat. Did she even realize he was a wolf, not a dog? But then to his surprise, she bit into the fruit, chewing thoughtfully. His eyes were drawn to the way her throat worked as she swallowed. She had a beautiful neck. He had a vision of his teeth on it. Tugging gently at the skin. Tasting. Enjoying.

  The vision turned sour as it mixed with memories of a cruel childhood.

  He couldn’t have someone like her. He needed someone like… like…

  It seemed almost blasphemous to even think it now—another clue to his chaotic state of emotion—but… he needed someone like Kerrigan. Someone completely opposite of what he knew from his younger years. Someone soft rather than hard. Someone curvy rather than slender.

  She noticed him staring. “You hungry?” she asked. “You must be.”

  She offered him the banana. He almost turned her down, but the idea of sharing something with her, something she’d had her mouth on, an action innocent enough to not trigger his flight instincts, but yet intimate at the same time… was oddly appealing.

  Keeping his eyes on hers, he leaned forward and slowly took a bite.

  Her mouth fell open, eyes glazing over. Vesh registered the change in her scent at the same time he realized he had a raging hard-on. She was aroused. And fucking hell, was it a glorious scent.

  It brought on a fresh torrent of confusion.

  On one hand, he was thrilled beyond belief. He’d never taken his potential mating seriously. Sure, he’d waited and bitched about it not happening sooner, the same as every wolf did. But he hadn’t actually thought about what he’d do when he found her. And never did he consider she would be the exact opposite of what he was attracted to. All that aside, here she was. His mate. And he’d… turned her on. It was a life-affirming feeling. It felt right.

  But on the other hand it felt wrong. She was all wrong. Worse than that, he was all wrong. He could never fulfill his duties to her. He couldn’t make her happy or care for her. He was second in command to the most brutal alpha in the land, a warrior, a beast. She was normal, and apparently caring, and kind. They didn’t match.

  His wolf didn’t care. He whined and pawed to get closer to Braeh and her sweet, sweet scent. He breathed deep, wanting to remember it. Or forget it. He wasn’t sure.

  Vesh was about to strangle his wolf to death and make a run for the door when Braeh beat him to it. She was already in the hall when she called over her shoulder, “How do you like your eggs?”

  Letting his head fall to his hands, he tried to focus on her question. “Uh.” Eggs, eggs… how the fuck did he take his eggs? “Over easy.” Whatever. He’d eat them however she cooked them.

  He swigged more of the water before following her into the small kitchen.

  “When will your sister be home?”

  She set the pan on the burner and turned it on before opening the fridge and finding the eggs and butter. “Not sure. Trager has to work today and Kerri has a job interview. So, probably after that.”

  “Where does Trager work?”

  She glanced at him. “You don’t know?”

  Why would he ask if he knew?

  She dabbed the butter in the hot pan and waited for it to melt. “Time for you to answer some questions, I think. Let’s just go with the big one: what do you want?”

  What did he want? He wanted a lead on the lone wolf so he could track his movements and see if it turned out any information on the Ravendales. But he didn’t think it was a good idea to tell her that.

  “Want? There are lots of things I want. But what I need, is to find Trager.”

  He watched as she deftly cracked two eggs into the pan. “And why is that exactly? You said you aren’t friends.”

  “We’re… acquaintances.”

  “And what? You just want to catch up on old times? Shoot the breeze? I’m really more interested in why you were asking for my sister, actually.”

  She lifted the pan from the burner and jiggled it before setting it down again. Then she popped two slices of bread into the toaster. Returning to the eggs, she lifted the pan and flipped them without the use of a spatula. The way she whipped around the kitchen told him she knew what she was doing.

  “I find Kerrigan, I find Trager, right?” he hedged.

  The toast popped up and she moved it to
a plate before buttering it. She slid the eggs from the pan, and grabbed a fork from the drawer.

  Turning, plate in hand, she pegged him with her glare. “See, I get the feeling you’re up to no good. But what I want to know is, will I be sorry I helped you?”

  “I mean your sister no harm.”

  Braeh raised an eyebrow. “Do you mean Trager harm?”

  Vesh couldn’t answer.

  “Because hurting him would hurt Kerrigan. You must know that.”

  He hadn’t really thought about it. But yeah, she was right.

  “I have no plans to hurt him,” he muttered, and it was the truth. His plan was to watch him.

  She grinned, and damn, her smile was amazing. It made his heart beat faster. He looked away so he wouldn’t think about it.

  “Alright then, here you go. Bon appetite.”

  Setting the plate on the small dining table, she scurried back over to the counter and started messing with the coffee maker. Vesh went at his food like a starved person stranded on a deserted island who’d just found berries. It was just eggs and toast but it might as well have been ambrosia from the heavens.

  “What did you do to this?” he asked around a bite.

  Her gaze snapped to him. “Nothing. Why? Don’t you like it?”

  He shoveled more into his mouth and chewed, not caring if he answered her quickly enough.

  She banged the side of the coffee maker. “What the hell is wrong with this thing? I can use a French press but I can’t figure out this… thing.”

  Shoving another forkful into his mouth, he rose and went over to her. “Here.” He took the K-cup from her hand and showed her where to put it, and which button to push. The look of relief on her face when the coffee streamed into the cup was a certain kind of reward. He tried to ignore the way this tiny act of helping her made him feel.

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure.”

  He went back to the table and finished his meal.

  “Well, do you?” she asked.

  “Do I what?”

  She nodded at his plate before pouring creamer in her coffee. “Like your food?”

  He stared at his empty plate instead of her. He wanted to praise her, to thank her. She’d brought him, a stranger, into her sister’s home. Let him rest. Helped heal him. Fed him the best meal he’d had in ages. Her kindness was unequaled to any he’d ever known. But he was in danger of growing too fond of her already. He couldn’t afford to be too nice.