“Are you sure that’s all it is?” Her voice caught. She chewed her bottom lip. Nothing worse than feeling helpless. She was so tired of having to rely on others to take care of her. If only she could shift, she could fight.
“Yes, of course. What else could it be?”
“Alfred.” Maybe she should return to the pack and stop all the stress. Be Alfred’s wife. Maybe she didn’t deserve more. Who would want to be with a blind wolf who couldn’t shift, anyway? She’d always be a burden.
“No offense, but he’s not that clever.” Powell rubbed her arm.
“I wouldn’t put it past him. When he wants something, he’s pretty insistent.”
“He’s not going to get his paws on you unless it’s what you want.”
She shook her head. As much as she didn’t know what she’d do, she didn’t want to be under Alfred’s control. “No. Definitely not.”
“Good. I don’t want you with him, either.” He squeezed her hand and stood. “I need to get more wood from the porch so we can keep the fire going all night. We’ll need it to stay warm since the heat is out.”
“Okay.” If he could tell how frightened she was, he didn’t show it. “Do you have enough wood set aside?”
“Yes.” He laughed. “There’s enough wood for a semi-hibernating bear to sleep away the winter by the fire. Not a little fire, either. A roaring bonfire. Plenty of wood.”
She let out a breath. Maybe things would be fine. “If you say so.”
“I do. Once the fire’s going, we’ll find some food. I’m sure you’re as hungry as I am. I’ll be back.”
She pulled the blanket higher, rubbing the softness against her chin. “Please hurry. I don’t want to be alone.”
“I’ll be right here in the living room stacking the wood as I bring it in. You aren’t alone. Nar is here too.”
“Meow.”
The cat rubbed against her, purring. Olivia smiled. She’d never have guessed that she would befriend a cat, ever. Wolves and cats usually didn’t get along. But Nar was different. He wasn’t all scratchy and bitey like the few other cats she’d met scavenging around the pack fringes. Nar liked her.
She patted him, running her hand down his back. Being a wolf, she’d not had much close-up experience with cats at all, though she’d heard that black cats were even more unlucky than other kinds. A wolf had once told her that the color black was what she saw all the time—the darkness she lived in. It was the absence of color. Surely Nar was different. He was too nice to not have color. One thing was certain, petting him calmed her in a way not much else did.
Powell made several trips in and out, dropping armloads of wood on the hearth and floor, and she listened to the wood hit the ground and roll or crack as it landed. He brought in a lot, surely enough to last the whole night. She’d not realized it took so much to keep a fire going. With the door opening and closing, the warm air had escaped, and now the living room was freezing.
Powell hadn’t pushed her about shifting.
What had he thought about her inability to transition to a wolf? Did he feel sorry for her? More than he must already because of her blindness?
The blanket wasn’t enough to keep the chill away, and she shivered as she tried to cover herself. As she bent her leg, her ankle ached. So frustrating. She never should’ve tried to go out in the snow. Healing was likely slowed down, and she’d have to wait longer before she could hike to Oakwood, not counting the stupid snow. If she could shift to wolf form, the ankle would heal much more rapidly. She sighed.
The late day was full of reasons to feel sorry for herself. Powell must take his ranger duties seriously for him to take her in and tend to her injuries.
She was lucky he had been the one to find her.
He tugged the door shut with a thump and clasped the lock.
“That should do it.” He coughed. “I think the snow is letting up. But it’s pretty deep. Good thing we don’t have to get out.”
Icy air hung in the cabin. Nar walked across her lap, pausing a moment before jumping down.
“I want to go to Oakwood as soon as possible.” She leaned forward. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me. I know I’m a burden.”
“You aren’t a burden, and it’s not a problem. It’s my job to take care of people lost in the forest, remember?”
She heard him toss another log onto the fire and poke at the flames. A burst of heat raced across the room. So that was it. She was a duty. An obligation to Powell. Nothing more than another lost soul in the forest who needed tending.
The realization made her heart ache, but she didn’t know why.
“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have brought me here.” She held her head in her hands. The sooner she could leave the better.
He sat beside her and pulled the blanket over them both, his thigh warm against hers. “Olivia, what’s wrong?”
She turned away. How to explain to someone what it felt like to never feel wanted? To never be good enough? To always be the one holding everyone else back?
It sucked.
Hot tears filled her eyes, and she set her chin, trying to keep from breaking down. That would be the topper to a great day—crying in front of her twice-rescuer. He surely couldn’t pity her any more than he already did.
“Olivia?” Powell’s voice, calm and warm, seemed to come from inside her.
She wiped her eyes. “What?”
“I don’t know why you’re so upset, but I hope you aren’t mad at me.”
“No.” She paused. “Why would I be upset with you?”
The fire popped and crackled, and the scent of pine filled the cabin. He must’ve put a fresh pine bough on the fire.
“I don’t know. But you are on edge, and I don’t know why. I wondered if I’d done something to upset you.”
She smoothed the blanket over her legs. “No. I’m sorry. I must seem ungrateful. Thank you for rescuing me. Twice.”
“You’re welcome. Happy to do it. But please don’t leave, again. The snow has reached dangerous levels out there.”
“I’m concerned about Alfred. He won’t be happy if he finds me here. And he’s mad that I left. I’m sure it made him look bad that one of his promised wives ran away.”
Powell took her hand, and she savored the warmth of his palm seeping into her skin. So strong. So firm.
A man who knew what he wanted. Yet...one that didn’t force his will on others.
“I don’t understand why Alfred is being assigned wives and in the plural. Since when are wolves polygamous?” He rubbed her hand with the pad of his thumb.
“They aren’t. He’s taking all the unwanted girls in marriage. It’s supposed to be a mutual thing. He takes care of them and they...take care of him.”
For once, she was glad she was blind and couldn’t see his reaction. She was ashamed she’d considered the proposal. From the outside, it was absurd. At the time, most pack members made her feel like she was lucky to have Alfred. Now, if she went back, she’d be shunned. If Alfred still wanted her, she’d be punished.
“How many wives does he have?” Powell’s voice remained low and unaffected.
“Oh, only two right now. I would’ve been number three.” The fire’s heat warmed her cheeks. “He’s the only wolf that has more than one partner, though. Because his family is in charge, though I think most of us know that Alfred runs the pack. Claude is weak.”
“That’s ridiculous, you know that?” He squeezed her hand. “Having more than one wife—and not being in love, that’s my assumption?”
“Oh, he doesn’t love anyone but himself.” She tried to pull her hand free, but Powell held on, gently squeezing.
“What about true mates? Love? Hasn’t he heard of that?”
She shook her head and relaxed in his grip. “He
doesn’t believe in fated mates.” Her heart pattered at Powell’s proximity. Why did he have such an effect on her? He was a bear, for goodness’ sake. But every time he was close, she broke into a light sweat and her heart did mini flips. And she craved his closeness.
He cleared his throat. “Unacceptable. True love and fated mates are...essential beliefs.”
“That’s why I left. I want more. Well, and I don’t want to be a burden.”
“You deserve more. Much more. You won’t have to go back, I’ll make sure of it.” His voice picked up an urgency she hadn’t heard before. “You aren’t a burden to me, Olivia.”
Every bit of her essence wanted to believe him. But how could he help her? He was a bear. She was wolf.
A damaged wolf.
They didn’t share the same urges. On the cold nights of winter, she ran with the moon and he napped by the fire. She wiggled away, pulling her hand free. Napping by the fire was something she could get used to.
If only...
She sensed him before she felt him. Warmth then soft lips touching hers, his hand sliding behind her head and pulling her toward him. Off balance, she inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with his scent and tumbling head over heels in her mind as she reached for something to grab on to. Her wolf howled inside like it had been set free from a trap.
He tugged her close, planting kiss after kiss on her lips and cheeks till she responded, sliding her tongue along the seam of his lips. He welcomed her tongue and met it with his own, thrusting with a strength and passion she’d not imagined was possible.
After a moment, she pulled back. He didn’t speak. What was he thinking? What cues would his facial expression provide, if she could see?
“I’m sorry.” He offered no other words but pushed the blanket away, then stood and walked away.
Chapter Six
Powell shoved the iron poker at the fire, lining up the burning logs with precision. The flames surged and sputtered. What the fuck had he done? He couldn’t bear to look at Olivia. She’d trusted him.
He’d betrayed her trust. He was no better than Alfred, forcing himself on her.
Blind and injured, she was his responsibility. Not because he was a park ranger, but because he was her mate. Even though she didn’t seem to sense they were mates, he was sure they were. Hell, maybe wolves didn’t know when they met their mates. Maybe it took longer than a first touch for them to know.
It didn’t matter. He’d taken advantage of someone in a weaker position and that wasn’t his style. Kissing her when she was in such a vulnerable position had been out of line.
Dammit.
Sorry wasn’t enough, but what else could he say? She was stuck in his cabin for the foreseeable future unless they got out the snowmobile and tried to get to town. With her injury, the last thing they needed was to have to deal with an accident. They needed to wait until the snow stopped before snowmobiling, that would be safer. He’d gone out on rescues when the snow was pouring down, of course, but he didn’t want to risk his mate.
He peeked at her.
Blond hair splayed across her shoulders, blanket pulled up under her nose—she looked like a child hiding from a scary movie. Yet he knew how strong she was. The fact that she’d set out, blind, not once but twice, into the forest to get away from an unimaginable fate with her pack proved that.
She’d had a rough couple of days.
The flickering fire their only light, she was bathed in oranges and yellows, more beautiful than any girl he’d ever seen. Knowing she was his mate cast her in a different light, for sure, but he’d dare say she was gorgeous inside and out.
He’d kissed her because he couldn’t resist. He’d never been in that position before.
Way to go.
Now he felt like a first-class asshole. Never mind that she’d kissed him back. That might have been habit from dealing with Alfred, responding out of fear of repercussion if she didn’t. Anger rose in his gut.
If that damn wolf had harmed her, he would kill him. It wasn’t an idle threat. The bears had dealt with the wolves before, and Powell already knew what a scheming jerk the red wolf was. He’d used his own injured brother to gain the bears’ sympathy and scope out intel to take to the lions. Probably had been paid well too.
He breathed out slowly. Getting ahead of himself and letting his imagination run wild wasn’t going to solve anything. He didn’t know the truth about Olivia’s relationship with Alfred, other than she didn’t want to marry him.
She hadn’t said the wolf had done anything to her or physically harmed her, though clearly he’d been emotionally abusive. Powell shouldn’t leap to conclusions until he knew the whole story. Still, he couldn’t help but want to rip Alfred’s throat out for thinking about touching Olivia.
His bear reared up inside, pawing and begging to be released to go after Alfred.
Having a mate was complicated. Being a bear and having a mate that was a wolf?
Impossible.
For now, he’d have to make the best of things with Olivia. She’d be staying with him for a little while, until she was healed enough to get around on her own. No more trudging through the snow with a bum ankle though—he’d see to that.
“How about a sandwich for dinner?” Lame, yes, but practical. Plus, fixing dinner gave him a chance to think and maybe figure out a way to redeem himself. A way to apologize. He had to start talking to her again, somehow.
“Sure, that sounds good.” She pulled her legs up onto the couch, gently easing her injured ankle onto the pillow. “Thank you.”
No mention of the kiss. And she was talking. Good signs.
“Give me a minute to set the table.” He placed the fire poker back into its holder. “Peanut butter and honey sandwiches okay? I know I have both.”
“Yes, I love peanut butter.” She kicked her legs forward and started to rise then winced and fell back into the couch. “I’m sorry I’m not much help.”
“You relax and let me fix dinner. You’re injured. I can make sandwiches.” Relieved she didn’t seem mad, he headed toward the kitchen.
The open-floor plan of the cabin allowed him to keep his eye on her, and he grabbed a candelabra off the bookcase and set it on the table then lit the candles. She leaned back on the couch and closed her eyes, folding her hands under her cheek. She rested a few minutes, and he retrieved the honey from the pantry. When he returned, she was sitting up.
“Powell?” Her voice rang out, clear and firm.
“Yeah? What is it?” He grabbed the loaf of bread and pulled the peanut butter from the cabinet.
“When we’re eating, I want to talk.” She twisted the edge of the blanket with her fingertips, worrying the edges.
He swallowed and pulled out two plates from the cabinets beside the sink. “Of course. Why wouldn’t we talk?”
“About the kiss.”
He paused. “Okay.” He opened the silverware drawer and took out a knife, swallowing down the fear rising in his throat. “Whatever you want to talk about.”
A woman who’d turned down Alfred wasn’t going to let Powell get away with an unexplained kiss. He couldn’t blame her. If only he knew more about the mating of bears and wolves, he might understand what was going on, because he definitely felt a strong sense of protectiveness when he was around her. He couldn’t fully explain it, but it was something he’d never felt before.
A need to be near her. An urge to shelter her from anything that might hurt her.
A desire so white hot and pure, it could consume him if he let it.
Powell watched Olivia take a bite of the sandwich and set it back on the plate in front of her. He’d helped her to the table, letting her lean on him as she limped across the wooden floor. It’d taken every bit of willpower he had not to pick her up and carry her, though she was getti
ng around better than a human would be so soon after an ankle injury. The last thing he needed to do was force her or overpower her. Make her feel weak around him.
He needed her to trust him. No, more than that, he wanted her to trust him.
The fire had heated the cabin, but a chill still filled the corners and dark areas, so he had retrieved one of his sweatshirts for Olivia. The gray shirt dwarfed her but provided some warmth, he hoped. She pushed her hair behind her shoulders.
“It’s good,” she said, mouth full. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”
He pulled the strips of crust off his sandwich. “Me either, though I’d rather be having a juicy steak than a peanut butter and honey sandwich.” He laughed.
She sipped her water then set the glass down, smiling. “Me too.”
He ate in silence, waiting on her to start the conversation he dreaded. The fire popped across the room, and occasionally, the wind whistled through small cracks around the windowpanes. Olivia was quiet, eating and seemingly lost in thought. Though blind, it didn’t take her any time to figure out and remember where her food and drink were on the table.
He wiped his mouth and set his napkin down, his sandwich gone. After a long yawn, he drank another gulp of water. Things had been too exciting for winter. His body was tired, and he was used to napping much of the winter away. Lying awake the night before hadn’t helped. Exhaustion crept through his muscles and he stifled a yawn.
If he had to stay awake, he would. For Olivia, anything.
“You kissed me.” She pushed her empty plate away. “Why?”
He opened his mouth then closed it. Her straightforwardness both shocked and pleased him. Never a fan of games or passive aggressiveness, he was still a bit taken aback. He cleared his throat. “I wanted to.”
“I see.” She seemed to think about his answer for a minute.
He stood. “I’m going to put our dishes in the kitchen.”
“Okay. But we aren’t done talking.” She drank the last of her water. “Aren’t you afraid of Alfred? I mean, that you kissed me. He’d kill you for kissing me.”
Mated: A Paranormal Romance Shifter Anthology Page 5
