by Woods, Erica
Though we were surrounded by a massive forest, no tree had been allowed to grow in the valleys where the land was flat. With the grass short and even, like it had been recently cut, and the way the trees had been denied entrance, the barren spaces looked like giant, unnatural circles—achingly empty; quietly waiting.
But for what?
A chill prickled along the back of my neck, and I looked away from the circles in favor of taking in the sprawling forest that swallowed the narrow dirt road we’d taken.
It seemed endless.
Dense and bountiful, with weathered trees reaching their gnarled limbs toward the sky, the forest bordered the edges of the hills and snaked between the cabins, occasionally sneaking past its boundaries and cutting across a rise—reclaiming land that had once been lost.
At the far edge, where the trees thinned and fell away, mountains rose from the ground like proud protectors, shielding the landscape nestled between them against winds and storms and daring intruders. It lent an air of privacy to this whole place, made me feel like we were sheltered. Safe.
Something I knew was far from true.
“That’s our cabin, love,” Jason said, coming to stand next to us and pointing up at a big, wooden structure close to where we’d parked. “Cabin five, home sweet—well, not home, but it’s not bad, is it? The forest goes around out back, and it’s got a nice trail to walk.”
A low grunt from Ruarc distracted me from my reply. I followed his gaze, and when I concentrated, I could make out something strange in the middle of one of the empty circles below. A stage. A big one. And to the left, seated in the neighboring valley, stood a raised, circle dais, the earth around it littered with poles of various colors sticking up from the ground; always in pairs and always standing the same distance apart.
For some reason, the sight made me shiver.
Ruarc drew me into a one-armed hug and growled along my hairline, “Don’t need to be scared. We’ll protect you.”
“Damned straight.” Jason wiggled his brows at me before extending his hands for one of the bags Lucien drew out of the boot. “The first day of the Assembly isn’t until tomorrow, love. Let’s enjoy the rest of the night. Think of it like a vacation.”
Lucien strode past us. “A vacation for the damned.”
Ice formed in my veins at his ominous words, but I said nothing, just watched the ground until he disappeared into our cabin.
“Try not to worry, banajaanh,” Ash said. “We will take care of you.”
I forced a smile. “I know. And I’ll take care of you guys.” A thought struck. “Even if I have to wield Ruarc’s skillet again.”
Ruarc twisted away and turned toward the boot of the car. “You brought it?”
I gave him an innocent grin. “No?”
He looked from me to a snorting Jason, then settled on Ash.
“Maybe you should check?” Ash offered, laughter dancing in his blue gaze before he, too, walked toward the cabin that was to be our home for the next few days.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Ruarc growled, but the warm amusement in his eyes told me he wasn’t really upset. Although I had no doubt he would be if I’d actually packed the heavy pan with the intent to use it.
I decided not to tell him I’d brought one of his knives instead. After all, if the guys were going to protect me they would need someone protecting them in return.
Resolved to be that person, I prayed to any god that would listen that I wouldn’t be what they’d need protecting from.
“Wouldn’t I?”
Ruarc’s brows rose and he looked suspiciously back at the boot. While he stood undecided, Jason threw an arm around my shoulder and said, “Come, love. Let’s leave the big bad wolf to fret over luggage while we go choose the best room.”
* * *
The cabin was much bigger than it looked.
“Say what you will of the Assembly,” Jason began, tugging on my hand and forcing my feet to carry me over the threshold and into the cozy interior. “It may be a bunch of stuffy old wolves lording their opinions above the rest, but at least they’ve never scrimped on accommodations.”
No. No, they definitely hadn’t. The cabin wasn’t a mansion or anything, but it put my childhood home to shame. Wooden beams created high arches out of the roof, giving the illusion of abundant space. From the entrance, we stepped directly into a big bright room that housed both a living space—straight ahead—and the kitchen—to our left. The walls and floors were unpainted wood, but instead of looking dreary, everything looked kind of modern; from the very light color of the wood to the gleaming black leather couches and matching chairs, and the sparkling appliances in the kitchen.
The fridge, stove, and even the dishwasher looked completely new, the stainless, black steel contrasting sharply with the light wood. A huge island stood a couple of feet away from the stove, big enough for all of us to comfortably sit and eat breakfast—though the living room looked like a good alternative if we didn’t mind holding the plates on our laps. It had no table, but the airy space boasted four big, comfortable looking chairs, a couch facing the TV that hung on the left wall, and a fireplace. A second couch sat at the far back of the room below a row of windows. They stretched across the entire back wall and let in so much light it almost felt like we were outside, and in the middle of all that glass was a door leading out to a big porch.
“Wow,” I breathed. “This place is huge.”
Jason arched a brow. “I wouldn’t say huge. With four wolves sharing the space, it doesn’t take long before it feels cramped.”
I gave him a look. “I thought you liked the place?”
“I do.” He pointed at the big windows. “That’s reinforced glass, love. Bulletproof and lycan proof.”
“Lycan proof?”
He shrugged. “Well, not completely, but it’s strong enough that it would take them a few minutes to bash their way through. More than long enough for us to prepare.”
I blanched. “Does that . . . does that happen often? Being attacked here?”
A door to our right—where the living room narrowed to a long hall—opened, and Ash stepped out. The slight lowering of his brows spoke of disapproval. “Are you scaring our female, Jason?”
My heart thumped hard in my chest. Our?
“Of course not.” Jason moved me so my back was against his front. He leaned down and placed a sweet kiss behind my ear. A kiss that made my toes curl and my belly jump. “You’re not scared, are you, love?”
“Uhm . . .”
Ash caught my gaze, and at once, my unease evaporated. “To break into another wolf’s territory during the Assembly is not wise. The price steep.”
“I thought your territory was at home?”
Jason’s arms tightened around me and Ash’s eyes warmed. “Yes. Home,” Ash murmured.
I looked up at Jason, not understanding.
“Every pack at the Assembly ‘loans’ territory. The cabin we stay in is considered ours until we go home.”
“Then why the reinforced windows?”
“Lycans do not do well outside their own territory. We all hate being confined—which is why we have the big windows—and at the same time, protecting our pack is a driving force, an instinct we cannot deny. Being away from home and surrounded by other packs can drive us a little mad.”
“What Ash means to say, love, is that the reinforced windows are meant to mellow us.” He reached over and picked up a remote lying carelessly on the kitchen island. With the press of a finger, the windows changed color, and within a minute, no light penetrated the now black-ish glass.
And no one could see through.
“That,” Jason said with a grin in his voice, “is what I like about this place.”
Ash stepped around us, brushing my hand with his as he passed. “Yours is the middle room, banajaanh.”
I stared down at the hand he’d touched. A strange, tingling heat spread up my arm and curled around my heart. Before he could leave, I turned
in Jason’s arms and called out. “Wait!”
Ash stopped. Turned.
The urge to peel away the blank mask he so often wore and dig through the emotions underneath was an insistent throb in my chest. “Why do you always call me that?”
The sweet sound of his native language always soothed me. I wasn’t sure if it was because of how the language sounded, or if it was just Ash’s smooth voice. Either way, I still remembered the first time he’d called me that, exactly what he’d said it meant. It made me feel special that he’d come up with a nickname for me, but I wanted to know why he referred to me as a baby bird.
“Because you were young and wounded when we met.” A small smile tugged at those wide lips, his eyes heating as they roamed over my face. “Yet, I knew you only needed confidence to spread your wings. And then you would soar. Higher than any of us ever could.”
My mouth dropped open and words deserted me. Something deep inside me clenched and released, and I could only stare as he inclined his head and disappeared down the hall.
His words echoed in my head, and I barely noticed when Jason picked me up and carried me to the couch.
Higher than any of us ever could.
I closed my eyes, the warmth in my chest spreading. It . . . it almost sounded like he cared. Not just a little, but a lot. Like he thought I was good.
He’d said I’d soar higher than them . . .
Ridiculous.
I could never hope to be as good as these guys. No matter what I did, I’d always be the girl who’d been weak every time I’d needed to be strong, the girl who cost people their lives, the girl who harbored an evil entity inside her, a monster.
Suddenly I got angry. It was just so unfair! Here I was, surrounded by the best guys in the whole world, and a part of me kept holding back, kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Not because I didn’t trust them, but because I didn’t trust me.
“If it helps, I don’t consider you a baby.”
“W-what?”
Jason pulled me until I sat sideways on his lap and could meet his gaze. The look in his eyes was strangely tender, his mouth turned down as though concerned. “What’s wrong, love?”
My stomach cramped. I didn’t deserve these guys. Not after what I’d done. What I may still do. “N-nothing.”
The concern spread to his eyes as he searched my face. “Ruarc is older than Ash, you know, and he certainly doesn’t consider you young.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Something Ash said is bothering you. I know it can’t be the soaring thing cause you can’t possibly think you’re undeserving.” A fierce frown tugged his lips down and I was once again reminded that my Jason could be fearsome when he wanted to be. “So it has to be what it means, the baby bird thing. Ash doesn’t consider you a child, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
It was scary how easily Jason had honed in on my insecurity. How could he possibly know I felt undeserving? And how did he manage to somehow chide me for that feeling without making it seem like a scolding? I couldn’t even defend myself, not unless I wanted to admit to the feeling.
Which I didn’t.
“I—”
“She is too young.” Lucien’s cold voice made pinpricks of panic creep up my back. I couldn’t do this now. I couldn’t deal with him and his veiled insults while feeling so vulnerable.
My hands bit into my thighs, my shoulders curling as I instinctively tried to make myself a smaller target. I remained quiet, but startled when a growl built in Jason’s chest.
“Don’t make trouble just because you’re too dumb to see what’s in front of you.”
Lucien’s gaze cut to Jason at the sharp response, peering down at him for several tense seconds before speaking. “One could argue I am the only one with half a brain in my head.”
Jason snorted. “Half a brain sounds right to me.”
Suddenly the room felt twenty degrees colder. “She has befuddled your mind.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Lucien’s focus abruptly switched to me. I was still staring down at the white-knuckled hands in my lap, trying to remain unnoticed, when I felt his laser-sharp focus like a physical caress.
“Nothing to say?”
I shook my head.
“You do not wish to defend yourself?”
I repeated the action and tried to appear as small as possible. If I ignored him long enough, maybe he’d get bored and take the hint. He was, after all, the one who’d made it perfectly clear he didn’t want anything to do with me.
The short silence was broken when Lucien took one step toward us, opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, only to close it with a snap when another growl came from Jason.
“Leave her alone, Lucien.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw generous lips press together in a slight grimace, then a rigid back as Lucien turned and left.
Using the tip of his index finger, Jason tilted my face up. “You okay, love?”
“I . . .” I shook my head. I couldn’t let Lucien affect me like this. So he didn’t like me. Not everyone had to like me. “I’m okay.”
I rubbed a hand over my chest, over that spot that hadn’t stopped aching since our earlier confrontation. I mourned . . . something. A connection that had only existed in my head, a bond I had imagined.
“You sure?”
The fact that I wanted it back—this thing that hadn’t existed in the real world—felt an awful lot like desperation. Ugly and tainted and not-at-all healthy.
“Yes,” I said.
Whatever I wanted from Lucien, whatever I’d thought lurked beneath his cool surface, it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he hated me. It didn’t matter that my heart always sped up when he was around. It didn’t matter that I wanted to soothe the pain I’d only caught glimpses of, the rawness he did his best to hide. And if none of that mattered, surely it didn’t matter that Lucien would be in my life, hating me, for as long as I managed to hold on to my guys.
Maybe him not liking me was actually a good thing. Who else would protect the others against me if I lost control? Who else would be able to put me down if the worst should happen?
“I’m okay.”
If I said it enough times, maybe I would be.
18
Jason
I tightened my arms around my sweet female and let her scent wash over me. It never ceased to amaze me how simply breathing her in could send me soaring. The tension in my shoulders went away, the fear that knotted my gut every time I thought about what was to come lessened, and the ever-present darkness around my heart lifted.
Humming, I greedily drew in another breath.
Her scent was truly unique. She smelled like freshly cut grass, like coffee early in the morning, like the first spring rains. Hope smelled like her name, like hope and sunshine and light. It wasn’t a clean-cut individual scent to be tagged and filed away. Rather, her scent was tied to her kindness, her bright soul. She smelled like the retreat of an ever-present darkness and the first glimpse of a long-forgotten sun.
The female in question tilted her head back and looked at me. The soft light in her eyes nearly undid me. How could she look at me like that, as though she saw me, all of me, and still, somehow, found me worthy of her affection?
“What’s the plan, Stan?” she asked with a heart-stopping smile.
Ever since I’d started playing around with nicknames, she’d strived to beat me at my own game. I loved how she’d slowly begun letting parts of her impish nature free.
“Patience, love. Ruarc has this compulsive need to make sure you’re safe. I don’t know why he bothers,” I added with a grin. “Your skills with a frying pan could knock out any potential enemies far quicker than we ever could.”
Her cheeks reddened and I was instantly charmed. “I’ll never live that down,” she muttered.
“Afraid not.”
“Frying pan?” Ruarc came barreling through the do
or, slamming it behind him with such force that the hinges rattled. “What about it?”
Hope squirmed in my lap and I had to swallow a groan. Having her tight little ass in my lap was one thing. Having it wiggle on top of my rock-hard cock was a special brand of torture.
“I . . . Jason was just teasing.”
After glaring at me for a second or two, Ruarc switched his attention to the empty seats around the table. “Where’re the others?”
“Here,” Ash said, stepping into the living room with Lucien close behind.
“Food?”
“I called in an order.”
Ruarc grunted and took the seat next to me. Without sparing me a glance, he snatched Hope out of my arms and cradled her to his chest.
“You seriously need to learn to share, mate.”
He shot me a pointed look. “Do I?”
“Do you see this, love? Do you see how he treats me?” I widened my eyes and tried to force my face into a mask of dejection. “Won’t you come comfort me?”
“She stays,” Ruarc growled.
“I was asking the pretty little human, not you.”
“My woman is smart. She’ll always choose me first.”
I rolled my eyes. “I smell better.”
“I’m stronger.”
“I’m funnier.”
“I’m stronger.”
“I tell better stories.”
“I’m stronger.”
“You’ve already said that. Twice!”
Ruarc bared his teeth in a scary-ass smile. “All that matters.”
With a huff I turned to Hope, prepared to cajole or bribe her into choosing me—that was the reason humans had invented chocolate, wasn’t it? To bribe their females?—but she wasn’t smiling.
She looked . . . pained? Shoulders hunched, lips a flat line, hands clenched in her lap.
