by Woods, Erica
My heart ached.
It didn’t occur to me to wonder why I could so easily read his body language, why I felt so in tune with his emotions. What did surprise me was the uncertainty I saw in him. He was normally so full of a wild sort of confidence, a savage certainty that he could demolish anyone who stood in his way, but right then, that self-assuredness was completely missing, and I had a weird feeling I was to blame.
“Oh, Ruarc . . .” My voice came out breathless and, to my ears, filled with awe. I reached out, stopping myself before I could touch him and let my hand just hover in the air between us.
Ruarc tracked each movement with an ease that spoke of a true predator. His gaze darted up to my face, and whatever he saw seemed to remove some of the terrible vulnerability that made my heart ache so.
With a low rumble, he bumped his nose into my hand, ears cautiously rising.
I closed my eyes and just felt. Something inside me unclenched at the first touch of his sleek fur, like the touch of his wolf was something I’d waited my whole life to feel.
A smile stretched across my face, so broad it felt like my face would crack.
I ignored the two loud inhales threatening to tear me away from this wonder, and focused on the magnificent being in front of me. I ran my hand over the side of his muzzle—luxuriating in the silky feeling of his skin there—and up over his head.
When I finally opened my eyes, the wolf’s big face was inches from my own.
“Hi,” I whispered.
Ruarc rumbled and put his head on my shoulder. I giggled when his nose dragged over the bare skin of my collarbone, the cold wetness causing armies of goosebumps to stand at attention.
Putting my arms around his neck, I marveled at the sheer size of him. Ruarc never did anything by half measures, and it seemed growing counted. His wolf form was so tall his shoulders would have almost reached my chest had I been standing. “You’re a big one, huh?”
“Bigger than most,” Ash said.
I pulled back, having forgotten there were others in the room.
“You aren’t scared of him at all, are you, love?” Jason spoke softly, something warm and unexpected in his voice.
I wrinkled my nose. “Why would I be? It’s Ruarc.”
He flashed a sudden, broad smile and turned to Ash. “It’s . . .” he shook his head. “How do I explain this?”
“One cannot.” Ash turned to the door. “Ready for more, Hope?”
I turned with him and gasped at the sight that greeted me. Lucien, in wolf form, stood a few feet away—either he moved as soundlessly as Ruarc, or I had been too busy with my marvel to notice.
Where Ruarc was as black as the darkest shadow, Lucien was whiter than the purest snow. His fur shone with a luminous brilliance I had never seen the like of in my life. Although he was noticeably smaller than Ruarc, he was still huge, with a slightly shorter muzzle and brilliant green eyes.
“I thought . . . I thought your color would match your hair? Your human hair.” Both Ruarc and Lucien had black hair, and while Ruarc’s wolf matched, Lucien’s was the opposite.
A loud guffaw erupted from Jason. He didn’t laugh pretty or rehearsed, but it never failed to make my heart skip with unfettered joy. His own expression of true delight was so honest, so Jason, that I couldn’t help smiling with him, even though I knew he was most likely laughing at me.
“Oh, love,” he snorted, brushing imagined tears from his cheeks. “You crack me up, honey-pot.”
“Excuse me?” I sputtered, then jumped at the huffed air from Ruarc. The big beastie sat on his haunches in front of me with his tongue hanging out in a very wolfish smile.
“Honey-pot?” Jason gave me an innocent smile and shrugged. “It rhymed, what can I say?”
“No one quite knows what determines the color of a wolf,” Ash told me. His tone was serious, but I could have sworn there was a sparkle in his eyes, and . . . was that another trick of the light or did his lip just twitch? “But we know, in most cases, they take after their father.”
“Not their mom?” I asked, looking back at Lucien. He was looking at me with the same, cold eyes he always had, but in his wolf form they seemed darker. More sinister.
One corner of his lip lifted, showing me a glimpse of razor-sharp teeth.
Unease swept down my spine. Was he threatening me? Trying to tell me something? Or was he just showing disdain the way he would in his human form?
A shadow fell across Jason’s face. “No, not their mom’s.”
The darkness in his voice disturbed me. I leaned over and grabbed his much bigger hand in mine and gave it a squeeze. “What color are you?” I asked, fixing a smile on my face and pretending I hadn’t seen the black emotions hovering above him like the blade of a guillotine about to drop.
The grin he flashed me as he turned seemed effortless, but I knew Jason better by now. “A boring gray.”
“Gray is my favorite color,” I told him, thinking about Ruarc’s beautiful eyes—silver was just a shiny gray, wasn’t it?
This time his eyes warmed and he scooted closer. “Oh, is it now, munchkin?”
“Munchkin?” I was torn between amusement and the warm flutter surrounding my heart. I loved his nicknames for me. Every single one. The way he said them, with his smooth, whiskey voice, made tingles shoot up my spine.
Quick as a cat pouncing on his prey, Jason grabbed me around the waist and plopped me down on his lap. “Munchkin, honey-pot, sweetsauce, it all fits you, love.”
But most of all, I loved when he called me love. Even if he didn’t actually love me.
One person—or wolf as he was now—was not impressed by Jason’s antics. A sharp tug at the back of my shirt sent me sprawling back onto the couch.
Wide-eyed, I stared at Ruarc, took in the sharp, deadly teeth that had pierced my shirt and yanked. Completely unrepentant, he glared at Jason, lips drawing back ever so slightly.
“Ruarc . . .” I stared at him with my mouth open, unsure what I should say. What I could say. This was typical Ruarc behavior, and as soon as my surprise drifted away amusement took its place.
“Don’t be jealous, wolf-boy.” A grinning Jason wagged his finger at Ruarc—yelping when sharp teeth snapped together inches from vulnerable flesh. “And no biting!” Frowning, he helped me back up and tugged until my back was pressed up against his chest, my legs slightly to the side, my head right underneath his chin.
Every part of me tingled at the contact.
I’d never fully appreciated the width of Jason’s chest; the solid muscles a mass of strength at my back. It was like leaning against a warm brick wall you knew would never let you fall. “Sharing is caring.”
A snort escaped me, accompanied by a huff from Ruarc. Still glaring at Jason, he jumped up next to us, the whole couch creaking under his weight. For a moment, I was sure it was going to collapse, but since neither of them seemed concerned, I closed my eyes and waited for Ruarc to settle. When something heavy leaned against my thighs, I opened my eyes to find Ruarc resting his head over my legs.
The fur around his muzzle looked so soft. So inviting. I reached out. Touched. Gasped at the silken feel.
A chuffing sound distracted me from my exploration. I looked up, and my stomach dropped as guilt assaulted me.
Here I was, playing with Ruarc and relaxing on Jason, having forgotten that Lucien was even in the room.
No wonder he dislikes you, I thought to myself.
Ruarc wasn’t the only vulnerable person in the room. Lucien had changed for me, too. He’d also taken a chance, exposing a vulnerable part of himself just to make sure I would be okay when we were at the Assembly. And this was how I paid him back? By ignoring his effort and probably making him feel superfluous?
With a wiggle, I slid down from the couch, my eyes locked on the beautiful creature that was Lucien. It didn’t surprise me in the slightest that his wolf form was as gorgeous as his human form, and although he looked different due to his coloring, the cold, green
eyes and the haughty tilt of his chin remained the same.
“Hi, Lucien,” I said softly and took a step toward him.
In a flash Ruarc was beside me, his huge, surprisingly fluffy body standing slightly in front of me and blocking my path.
Lucien lowered his head, ears cocked forward, and stared.
Ruarc growled.
Uncomfortable with their seriously intense eye contact, I let my gaze glide away, stopping at Ash when his eyes captured mine in a thorough hold I couldn’t seem to break.
“This is the danger of an alpha,” he said, dropping me in the middle of a conversation I hadn’t known was coming, enveloping me in a bubble where only he and I existed. “Before you step foot on Assembly ground, you have to be aware of the danger. Of the challenge you may offer without knowing. Of the offense you risk giving by not averting your gaze.” His mesmerizing voice pulled me deeper into his thrall. “One of the easiest ways wolves establish dominance is through eye contact. Break it at the same time, and you are equals. Break it before, and you are not. But do not break it at all . . .” The bubble tightened and I quivered; ready to split at the seams. “And a more dominant wolf will force your submission through violence. Do not let an alpha trap you.”
Alpha?
I opened my mouth to ask, but no words came. I had the sensation of falling. Of drowning in Ash’s eyes. I couldn’t move.
Trapped. I was trapped.
The first stirrings of anger burned in my chest. Anger at my helplessness. Anger at my human vulnerability. Anger at being weak, at being afraid, at being unworthy of these men who’d so quickly become the center of my world.
No.
Something moved inside me.
Something answered in Ash.
My body flashed cold, then hot, and then a biting fury chomped down at my neck and yanked.
I blinked, looked away, blinked some more. My hand was curled over my heart, rubbing. “I won’t give offense,” I muttered. The silence that followed was a trap, and I somehow felt like its bait. “And why would it be taken as offense, anyway, if the . . . the alpha is purposely trapping me?”
And what is an alpha?
“Hope . . .” A shuffling sound, then the scent of sensual storms and torrid rains. Wrapping his arms around my middle, Jason dragged me up against his hard body and ran his nose along the line behind my ear while drawing a deep breath. “Still nothing.” His voice was light, but I could tell there was a deeper meaning behind his cryptic comment.
Lucien sat on his haunches and glanced over at Ash.
“What’s going on?” Not understanding left me unsettled.
A prickle under my skin made me aware of Ash’s intense scrutiny. After a few seconds, he shook his head, tension I’d been unaware of slowly dissipating. “Nothing is going on,” he said and ignored my doubtful look. “Alphas that consider you an enemy or a threat—or one wanting to hurt one of us—would deny forcing your gaze and insist on answering the perceived slight.”
“Why would I be considered a threat?” It didn’t make any sense. “And how do they answer a slight? And what is an alpha?” The questions tumbled out, one after the other, raising the pitch of my voice until the last emerged as a squeak.
Jason looked grim. “You don’t want to know how they answer a slight, love.”
A low growl from Ruarc—mirrored by Lucien. On their own, each growl would have been enough to send grown men running for cover, but together . . . together they could’ve scared off an army. The sounds vibrated in their chests, rising up through snarling throats and passed through teeth so sharp they’d put any knife to shame.
Like thunder, the threatening sound boomed through the room, until Ash held up a hand and both wolves snapped their mouths shut with a last grumble.
“An alpha is responsible for his pack,” Ash said, and I wondered at his choice of words.
Responsible.
“Like a . . . a leader?”
“Of sorts, but though I am the alpha of this pack, it does not mean I expect the obedience of my brothers.”
Jason snorted. “Except when you do.”
Blue eyes, as tranquil as the sea before the storm, locked on Jason. “Yes.”
“I’m yanking your tail, wolf,” Jason said with a roll of his eyes. Then he leaned down, mouth to my ear, and lowered his voice as though imparting a secret, “Ash is one of the good ones, love. He’d never order you around. Unless, of course, you wanted him to.”
My legs suddenly felt unsteady, Jason’s warm breath sending little sparks of lightning skittering over my skin. I had to take two deep breaths before I could speak. “Why . . .why do you need an alpha?”
“Wolves thrive in a hierarchy, love.” A warm palm stroked down my arm, cupping my elbow and turning me to face beautiful, amber eyes. “We’re a violent species and need boundaries to avoid chaos.”
“C-chaos?”
“Mhm . . .” Jason tipped my chin up, thumb finding the dip right below my lip. “The more dominant the wolf”—he bent his neck, mouth so close I could taste him—“the more volatile his temperament.”
My breathing sped up, the tips of my fingers tingled with urge to touch, to stroke, to explore all the smooth, sun-tanned skin stretched taut over Jason’s strong shoulders. But before I could give in, before I could release the sigh of surrender building in my chest, Jason spun around with a curse.
“Did you just nip me?” Jason rubbed at his flank and glared down at the big black wolf that had moved soundlessly up behind him. “Like I was a pup?”
Ruarc bared his teeth, tongue lolling out.
Jason huffed, and something about that almost boyish display was so utterly charming I fought hard to suppress the smile bubbling from somewhere deep inside.
Jason twisted his neck in his haste to look at me. “What was that?”
“What?”
“That sound.”
Light, airy bubbles filled my chest. “What sound?”
“Are you laughing at me?”
“N-no?”
His eyes narrowed.
“I’m not!”
“You little vixen, I—”
Ruarc hacked up a cough—wolfen laughter?—and Jason went quiet. He looked from me to Ruarc, and his upper lip twitched.
The bubbles expanded, filling me with a thrilling lightness that was almost scary in its intensity.
“Be glad it was not a true bite,” Ash said dryly.
I grabbed Jason’s hand, unable to deny myself the touch of his skin any longer, and was rewarded with a beautiful smile. “Tell me the rest?”
“Of course, love,” Jason said with a kiss to the tip of my nose that left my cheeks drowning in the heat of a blush.
When he was sweet like that, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
“Where was I? Oh yes. The alpha is responsible for each member of his pack and they, in turn, answer to him. But—and there’s always a downside, isn’t there?—if he does his job poorly, he risks being challenged.” Jason drew me closer to the couch, away from Ruarc, and wrapped both arms around my middle, his chin coming to rest at the top of my head. “And, of course, if a challenger is stronger than he is, the alpha may get killed.”
All the bubbles popped. “Killed?” My mouth went dry. “But . . .” I looked from Ruarc—big, strong, fierce Ruarc—to Lucien; cold, calculated, deadly when provoked—I’d never forget the way he’d smiled as he mutilated the man who’d harmed me. “You wouldn’t . . .?”
Ruarc sneezed; ears flat, teeth bared.
“We chose Ash,” Jason said. “Nothing can change that.”
Fearing I may have just insulted all of them, I blurted the one question they’d yet to answer, “Why would any lycan consider me a threat?”
“Because you are human,” Ash said simply.
“But . . . humans can’t possibly be a threat to lycans.” Even as the words left my mouth, an image of the Hunters dragged through my head.
They were so many. Had so many weapo
ns. They were organized, had infiltrated the police, the hospitals and probably most other branches of government, too.
If the Hunters went to war with the lycans, if they pooled all their resources, who would win?
Scalp prickling with unease, I tried to swallow the sudden tightness in my throat.
“Some lycans want to go back to how it used to be, when humans were prey and feared the very sight of us.” Jason drew me tighter up against his chest and pressed a tender kiss to the nape of my neck. His voice lowered, wrapped around me like bonds of smooth satin. “Others think they dilute our bloodlines and don’t want us to mate with them.”
The way he said ‘mate,’ I knew he didn’t mean the lycan way of marrying. He was talking about something else. Something earthier, more primal.
I shivered.
“There are a million and one reasons,” Ash said. “An ocean of bad blood exists between our species, and while humans die and their hatred dies with them, lycans remember.” Something flashed behind his eyes, something dark and deadly. “But what matters is that you are aware of the danger and that you are careful. Stay close to us at all times, and do not trust anyone.”
I should have been afraid, but my attention kept returning to the heat at my back. To the powerful black wolf sitting next to me. To Lucien. I wondered how all that white, silky-looking fur would feel like gliding through my hands. Were his ears as soft as they looked? And what about the fur above his nose? It looked so inviting, so tempting . . .
“Hope?” Jason’s amused voice sounded right next to my ear. Suddenly his scent surrounded me. It was all I could taste, feel, smell.
“Um . . . yes?”
His arms tightened around me and my body warmed in response. “You hear what Ash said?”
Shooting a guilty look at Ash, I shook my head apologetically.
Both Ruarc and Lucien made similar chuffing-sounds. Like Ruarc’s earlier wolf-cough, it sounded like laughter, but when I looked at Ruarc he didn’t seem amused. Instead he was glaring at Lucien and lifting his lip, effectively showing off the rows upon rows of deadly weapons he carried in his mouth.
“Ruarc, maybe you should change back?” Ash’s tone was mild, a steely command disguised as a suggestion.
