by JP Vasha
Warily, I glanced at him and saw that he was looking on ahead with a faint grimace. He didn't want me to be scared of him, obviously, and he was bracing himself in case my response was an affirmative.
"No," I said after a few moments of surprise, "you don't scare me." But he did make me tensed and alarmed. It wasn't fear, exactly, but certainly not comfort either.
His shoulders sagged, pacified. "I'm glad," he said, voice as honest as ever, and his eyes glanced at me, flickering with relief. "If you were afraid of me, it would've made this courting a lot harder."
That made me narrow my eyes. "Don't think that it's not hard enough as it is." He needed to be reminded that I was still not wholly willing and agreeable with the entire situation.
A deep, rumbling chuckle escaped his throat, making my spine shiver slightly, it was that sexy. He turned his mirthful eyes to the road, a half grin stretched on his face. "It wouldn't be fun if it wasn't," he murmured, and I could feel that voice making me tingle in all the intimate places I'd never explored or been explored before.
Since this is my body, Khloe jumped in, giving me a small heart-attack at her abrupt interruption, it's actually been explored many times before.
I know that, I told her, but since I haven't yet, then for me this body hasn't, either.
A few minutes later, Zack pulled the car into a grand parking lot. Afterwards he let me out of his car in this perfectly gentlemanly way of his, then enfolded his elbow with mine as though we were in a 50s movie and led me to the entrance of the poshest restaurant I'd ever seen.
As we followed the host inside, I let my eyes roam sideways. The restaurant was designed like an oasis in the middle of the desert – ironic, since it was Texas after all – with plants displayed everywhere, indoor dogwood trees, flowers blooming on every table, each in different color, and ivy wrapped around the windows. Mistletoe fell from the ceiling, and instead of the ball-shaped buds, there were small lamplights instead, turning the place dim and romantic.
Couples were the only ones who filled the place, and it made me feel a little bit self-conscious. For a first date, this kind of place was slightly too much, yet plausible. For a first-date-in-my-life, this was extreme.
The host seated us near one of the dogwood trees. In its trunk they carved out some wood and inserted an computer, which served as an electronic menu. I'd seen those a few times since my revival, but it never paused to fascinate me. Technology changed so much since I'd died.
"What do you think of this place?"
I snapped my gaze to Zack, who was now leaning on the table with his elbows, watching me intently. I gulped and went for the truth. "It's beautiful, almost classic in a sense. But it feels a little surreal, to be honest."
My answer seemed to satisfy him because he rewarded me with a grin. "Later tonight, a local indie band would be preforming covers to famous songs. It's the main reason why I find this place so appealing."
"And here I thought it was because of the mistletoe," I murmured, and that made his grin wider, which made me blush. Zack didn't strike me as a person who smiled much – in fact, he looked to be more in the brooding side – but since yesterday, it seemed like he couldn't stop himself from expressing his happiness. He truly believed, truly knew, that either Khloe or me were his mate. And it made him one happy man.
With that thought in mind, something in me softened and I found myself smiling at him a somewhat wary smile, which made him blink a few times rapidly, as though he was trying to capture the picture of me smiling and brand it into his brain. "You really are beautiful," he said, wonder in his voice. "Truly."
My blush, still intact, deepened and, quite embarrassed, I tried to rummage through the electronic menu and find something to eat. Zack hadn't said anything as I picked my choice, and when the waiter came and we placed our orders, I could feel his eyes on me all the time. He didn't even bother to check the menu, knowing what he wanted beforehand probably, and still kept staring at me.
It was a little weird to think about it, but it was almost as if he was fascinated with me. Why that was, I had no idea. I hadn't done anything out of the ordinary.
It'd struck me then. He's being blinded by how hot you are, Khloe.
Khloe mulled it over. I think you might be right. He might feel like he hit the jackpot by getting a hot mate.
For some reason, that notion made my chest burn, and I knew why. If I, Carla, was really Zack's mate, then he would've never been so entranced with how beautiful I was. Because my real body was not like Khloe's. It was not beautiful. It was nothing.
A warm contact made my eyes stare. Zack grabbed my hand in his. Forcing my eyes to his face, I saw that he was frowning. "You're upset," he said softly, making me tense. "Have I don't something to upset you?"
At that question, I felt my mark flaring with phantom pain. But no, that wasn't upsetting me anymore. Something else did, and I could tell him nothing of it. "You're being awfully considerate, Mr. Grey," I told him, forcing on a smile. "I'm waiting for the catch in all of this."
His face darkened with determination at that. "There's no catch," he said, leaning forward. "I want my mate to be mine. I want you."
Tension rose between us, covering my skin with goosebumps and gathering heat to unfurl in my blood. I clenched my thighs together, feeling a sudden dampness in my undies thanks to this heat. Zack seemed to feel my arousal as well, because his nostrils flared and his hand clenched on mine. His eyes were a blazing silver-green of his wolf being close to the surface, and they were on my mark, full of lustful hunger.
It was too much for me, this kind of tension. I snatched my hand from his, and just as I did, the waited came with our orders, breaking this tension farther for me.
Chapter Six
When I say the date went awkwardly from there, it's an understatement. The date went disastrously. Zack tried to talk, I could give him that, but my insecurities and inexperience prevented me from chatting much in response.
By the dessert, I braced myself for Zack to say that I was an airhead bimbo and that Fate sucked for giving him, well, me, but instead, for my absolute shock, he seemed concerned. As I mournfully dug my spoon inside the soufflé's soft exterior, Zack's gaze draw my eyes up and ensnared them in his. "Something's wrong," he said, face serious.
I sighed and left the spoon, sagging back at the chair. "A lot of things are wrong with this," I murmured, more to myself than him. Unfortunately, he was a werewolf and he could hear me.
Jaw locked and eyes flashing with annoyance, he asked in a deceptively calm voice, "Would you care to share?"
Instead of answering, I dodged the question by asking one myself. "When you told me I smelled wrong," I said softly, and saw his eyes narrow, "why didn't you probe me for an answer?"
Now he seemed truly angry. "Because," he said, his voice on the verge of a growl, "when I told you that, I saw something in your eyes I never want to see again." He paused, making sure I was listening, and spat, "Distrust."
I flinched. For werewolves, it was crucial their mate would trust them wholeheartedly. That I didn't, or Khloe didn't, was a blow no wolf could duck.
He's being an asshole about it, though, Khloe murmured in my mind. No woman, and certainly someone like you who can't even recognize him as your mate, too, would trust a man as dangerous as Zack Grey's said to be just on a whim.
She was right, but... You can't recognize him as your mate either, Khloe. Neither of us can. Which was what made this situation so complicated.
But since I'm a werewolf and you're a human, odds are, you're the mate, since werewolves rarely, if ever, don't recognize their mate on first sight. Khloe sounded matter-of-fact about it, and it irked me for some reason.
You're afraid, I realized at once. You don't want to find your mate. That's why you're so adamant that Zack is mine.
For my surprise, I nailed it in the head. I don't need some man to tie me down, Khloe said, the mockery in her voice evident, and I don't need someone like Zack even more th
an the average wolf. He's the One True Alpha's second in command. He's dangerous, even if he's wrapping it in, letting only his soft side out. Being with a dangerous man means consequences I certainly don't want suffer.
"Khloe?"
I jerked in surprise, seeing Zack's eyes on mine, concerned. I'd been talking with Khloe absentmindedly for a few minutes and forgot where I was – and with whom. Stupid! I admonished myself.
Chuckling weakly, I said, "Sorry. I was, er, distracted."
He didn't seem pleased about it. "Khloe, I need you to listen to me now, because what I'm going to say is important."
A spark of blinding anger rendered me speechless for a precarious moment, and I almost blurted, "Call me Carla, goddammit! Carla!" but then I reminded myself the situation and zipped my mouth shut. Then I nodded, prompting him to talk and indicating that I was listening, even if he called me by another name.
And why would that annoy me so much, anyway?
"I want you to trust me," Zack told me, snapping my gaze back to him. He took my hands in his and pulled them to his lips. I froze, a shiver rumbling through my spine, as he pressed his lips to my palms. "I know it would take time for a true trust to build, but I want you to at least trust me that I can protect you. That I can help."
I knew where he was getting with this, and knew it was my fault. "I'm not ready to talk about it," I told him only the half truth. I was not going to talk about Khloe and my situation with anyone, forever. And unless Zack truly proved that I could trust him, I would keep this promise.
Zack nodded. "It's okay. I just wanted to make sure that there was something to talk about."
And I wanted to thump my head against the table and forget Zack ever said that.
The date finally ended, and all the way home, Zack and I barely talked. He started some conversations, but I was too much stuck in my own head to really get into them, so I answered halfheartedly, and eventually he dropped it and we spent the drive in silence.
When we arrived the Daniels' mansion, Zack helped me out of the car and even walked me to the front door. Now it was time to say goodbye, and I wasn't sure how to do that. So, as we stood next to each other awkwardly, I found the floor really fascinating and planted my gaze there.
"Khloe," Zack's voice was smooth and low, and I felt it down to my unused loins. "Look at me."
It was childish and idiotic of me, but since he called me by another's name, I refused on principal to obey.
He sighed in exasperation. "You're really high-maintenance, you know that?" he said, and then, before I could stop him, he cupped my cheek with a big hand, forced my head up, stepped into my personal space, snaked an arm around my waist, and kissed me.
The last kiss I'd ever had was in high-school. It was with some nerd, whom I kind of forced myself upon. I'd been dying of curiosity as to how kissing worked (more about the mechanics than anything else) and so when that nerd, Tom, agreed to help me with homework, I practically attacked him.
The kiss with Tom was a long time ago, the memory so faint it didn't even count. And now, as Zack's lips were on mine, licking, nipping at my lips to respond, my heart fluttering rapidly and my chest rising with a gasp that opened my mouth and gave him access, I wished I'd remembered what french-kissing Tom was like so I wouldn't feel so self-conscious about the fact I was probably a bad kisser.
When his tongue brushed against mine, I tensed, and suddenly felt my mark flaring, and heat spread all over my body as though I'd been shot. My nipples hardening, my toes curling, I found myself raising my arms and wrapping them around Zack's neck while pressing the entire front of my body against his, lining us together.
He groaned into my mouth, the sound making me moan into his. Then his hands were on my hips and my back was pressed against the outer wall of the house. I sighed when I felt him cupping my butt, and I moaned when his lips left mine and began trailing down my jaw, to my neck, to where the mark was, sucking on it.
Carla...
His knee was between my thighs, and I was riding his thigh, my mind hazed with arousal. He groaned, murmuring against my skin and causing me to shiver in such a delicious way, I couldn't help but moan again.
Carla, please listen to me. You don't want this. If it continues this way, he will fuck you, and you'll regret it. We don't know who's his mate, Carla. Please be rational –
A soft, rueful howl echoed in my head, from Khloe's wolf, the one who was always so quiet, cowering. A moment of coherence followed, and I was about to grasp the situation when suddenly Zack's teeth sank into my mark, as though marking me again, and a bolt of pure lust made me almost pee myself with how turned on I was.
"Khloe..." he murmured, "fuck, Khloe, if we don't stop..."
It was a slap to my consciousness, more than a slap, even, and I was suddenly aware of what was happening. Freezing, my eyes wide with terror at what had just happened, what would've happened.
Zack tensed too, raising his head to look into my eyes. Whatever he saw in them made him visibly pale. "Khloe? Did I... Did I hurt you?"
Unable to control my mouth, I found myself whispering, "Don't call me Khloe."
Very carefully, I saw Zack's face shutting down, turning both blank and serious. "Why?" he asked, voice guttural.
Sudden tears welled in my eyes. "Because that's not my name." And I just couldn't stop talking about things I'd just promised myself I would never talk about.
Now he just looked confused. "What the hell do you mean by that?" he scowled. "Your family calls you Khloe. That's your name."
I shook my head, almost sobbing. Inside my head, the real Khloe was quiet, and so was the wolf. Apparently, neither was going to help me. They were letting me handle the situation.
His hands were on my shoulders, and he seemed like he wanted to shake me. "Tell me," he commanded, emerald eyes suspicious. He was debating whether this tidbit was related to my scent. He was connecting the dots.
I couldn't take my words back, and heaviness over my chest made it hard to breath. I'd been holding on for this secret for five months. I had to let go. Someone had to know. Someone had to try and help.
Screw promises and secretiveness. Screw everything. I knew that this thing with Zack might belong to Khloe and not to me, and if this continued, with me in charge of Khloe's body, I would lose a piece of myself. I would maybe betray both Khloe and Zack. Maybe I would even betray myself. And if there was one thing I liked about myself, it was the sense of loyalty I held to people, and Khloe specifically.
This situation needed to resolve itself. Because if Zack kissed me one more time, I would have sex with him, virgin or not. And that might hurt more than I was prepared to.
Resolved, I stared into his eyes and begged him to understand. "My name is Carla Hill, and I don't think I'm your mate."
Chapter Seven
The morning outside was rainy, the drops knocking hard on the window of Khloe's room. I stopped mid-movement to stare at it, then shook my head clear and returned to packing.
Today, I was going with Zack to the Wolf City of Lumen, deep in Deschutes National Forest at Oregon.
8 Hours Earlier
Zack and I were sitting in a park not far from Khloe's home. Instead of my dress I wore sweats and tee, and Zack was also casual with jeans and sweater. After our date, when I told him my true name, I asked him for a couple of hours of getting changed, and then to meet me in the park.
It was past that time already. And it felt like our date had been ages ago.
We were sitting in terse silence, none of us venturing to break it. I had no idea what Zack was thinking of my new revelation. Did he think I was mental? Schizophrenic?
I needed to say something. I was the one who dragged us here at one A.M. and it was my responsibility to make sure this time didn't go to waste.
Just come out with it, Khloe murmured in exasperation.
Clenching my hands into fists, I stared straight ahead, and ignore every coward feeling inside me that wanted me to shut up. "I was
born in Amarillo twenty-five years ago," I said, feeling the sudden heat of Zack's gaze on my face, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. I stared at the stars. "I was no werewolf, just human, from an average family, living an average life."
My skin was sweaty. "About three years ago, however, I was accidentally in the midst of a massacre that, eventually, killed me."
Zack swore. Glancing at him, I saw him leaning on his knees with his elbows, his face wincing in something akin to pain. His eyes were pinched close, and he looked like he was trying his best to listen. A lump invaded my throat at the sight, and I whispered, "Are you okay?"
"Yes," his voice was almost a growl. "Please continue."
Tensing, I nodded even though he couldn't see me. "Anyway, I was dead," I said, and found myself shivering at the memories of the void. I wasn't so sure I wanted to share it with him, and in his current mood, he might find it... peculiar. So I went for, "while I was dead, I encountered many dead souls. Most of them didn't remember where they came from, even their names. I did, though. And so did Khloe."
Zack's eyes snapped to me. "Khloe," he repeated, and his nostrils flared. What was he trying to sniff?
He's trying to deduct whether you're lying about this whole thing or not, Khloe reported dryly, and probably rolled her spiritual eyes. Wolves won't ask you forwardly if you're lying to them. They would just rely on their senses. This guy is no different, despite being much more restrained and honest than most.
I grimaced at that. "Khloe," I nodded. "We encountered each other and talked. As we did that, Khloe was suddenly being called by a strange voice, and light appeared above us. She was scared, almost terrified, and wanted me to hold on to her instead something bad happened. I agreed, since I found the light curiously enchanting, and thought for a split second that it might be my way back to life, and next thing I know, I gaze up at a starry night."
Zack wasn't exactly pale, but he seemed like it was hard for him to believe everything I told him. Especially his eyes; they were conflicted over something. Then I got it. He knows I'm not lying, but he refuses to believe such nonsense.
