by Moira Rogers
“That’s good.” Abby hesitated. “Honey, I’m so s—”
“Okay, then,” Joe interrupted, rubbing his hands together. “Mac dropped off some barbecue earlier. Who wants to eat?”
Brynn shot him a grateful look. “Food would be good. I’m really hungry.”
As Joe sliced a pork roast, Abby pulled plastic dishes of food out of the refrigerator. She pried the lid off a bowl of potato salad and murmured, “Can you and Brynn set the table, baby?”
Keith smiled at Brynn and moved to grab plates from the cupboard. “Why don’t you take a seat, kiddo. I bet the ground’s feeling a little unsteady.”
It was, but not as badly as before. Still, it was nice to sink into a chair and not have to think so much about every movement. “Thanks, Keith.”
“You got it, sweetie. Here.” He set a stack of paper plates and a tangled heap of silverware on the table in front of her. “Sort those out and I’ll get us something to drink. If Joe’s got anything other than beer in his fridge.”
“Some mixers, I think.” Joe winked at Brynn. “And some soda.”
A beer sounded really, really nice. Something requiring mixers sounded even better. Then she envisioned the scene in the bedroom, and what would happen if her control slipped again while her sister and Keith were at the table with them. “Soda’s good.”
Abby pulled a two-liter bottle from the refrigerator and handed it to Keith. “Gavin and Sam said they hope you’ll come visit them, Brynn. As soon as you feel up to it.”
Talking helped. Her mind still felt sluggish, but talking was a human thing, and she needed it right now. “What about the other alphas? Are they still here?”
Joe tossed his carving knife into the sink and placed the platter on the table. “They’re here. Not too happy at the moment, though.”
“Did what happened…help? Did it change anyone’s mind?”
Abby answered. “I don’t know, Brynn. Maybe. It’s got to be uncomfortable for all of them, knowing the same sort of thing could happen in their towns.”
Brynn separated the knives from the forks to give her time to steady her voice again. “If they could sneak into town to turn me, they could probably do worse, I guess.”
She barely looked up in time to see the look that passed between Keith and Joe, or Abby’s own tightly set, careful expression. The tense silence made it easy to hear the subtle changes in their bodies, the way heart rates increased or breathing became just the tiniest bit harsher.
Her mind flashed back to the attack. She could still remember sharp teeth closing on her throat, the way it felt to die…
The knife in her hand bit into her fingers as they clenched convulsively, but the pain was faint compared to the panic that gripped her. “They weren’t trying to change me. They were trying to kill me.”
“Shh.” Joe rested his hand on her shoulder. “They didn’t get it done. That’s all that matters.”
I wish they had. Guilt came hard on the heels of the thought, and she dropped the knife to the table and tried to take deep, slow breaths. She didn’t mean it. She would never mean it. I just need time.
Or that was what she told herself as she settled down to the most stilted and surreal lunch of her life. I survived. Now all I have to do is keep surviving.
She found it especially ironic that survival seemed so much more daunting a prospect today, when she was virtually invulnerable, than it had yesterday when she’d been nothing more than a fragile, breakable human.
Brynn kept her face pressed against her knees as she listened to Joe’s footsteps coming back up the steps. The front door opened and shut softly, and something tense in her body relaxed. “They’re gone?” she asked quietly without looking up.
“Yeah.” He crawled onto the couch beside her and pulled her into his lap. “That was…exhausting. You holding up?”
She opened her mouth to lie, but the truth came out. “No. God, no. The clothes are driving me crazy and talking is hard and I want things I can’t begin to understand.”
He stood again and held out his hand. “Come on.”
It was a sign of how much the wolf trusted him that her fingers touched his before she realized she’d moved.
He led her into the bedroom and dragged his T-shirt over his head. “Lie down.”
Blood roared in her ears as her gaze dropped to the broad shoulders and lower to his well-muscled chest. Arousal rose fast, set her heart to racing, and the wolf howled silent satisfaction that finally they both wanted the same thing.
The back of her legs hit the edge of the bed, and she realized that she’d moved without noticing again. Because he told me to.
He pulled off her oversized shirt as she climbed on the bed. When she was naked to the waist, he eased her back and tugged off the sweatpants she wore. “We’re going to get rid of that twitchy feeling.”
She licked her lips and inched backward, struggling against the sudden urge to slide off the bed and run. Not to get away from him, but to make him chase her. To make him catch her. “Are you going to touch me soon? Because I think I’m sort of losing it.”
Joe picked her up, pressing his chest to her back as he stretched them both out on the bed. “Do you want me to show you what she wants?” he asked before teasing her shoulder with a gentle bite.
“Yes. God, yes.” She squirmed a little, trying to get closer to the strong warmth of his body. “As long as it involves some seriously dirty fucking, because I sort of can’t think past that—”
He growled and bit her harder as he gripped her bare hip with one strong hand. “Shh.”
Hot, heavy pleasure exploded from somewhere inside her, and she groaned and rubbed her legs together in an attempt to ease the aching need. “Please. Please.”
His hand slid toward the juncture of her thighs. He moved slowly, but his breathing turned ragged. “Do you feel how much I want you, Brynn?”
She could, and at first she couldn’t remember why. Then she didn’t care why, because his fingers were still obscenely clever and he was touching her, and it felt so damn good. She shifted her legs apart and tried to push into his touch.
She heard Joe grind his teeth. “Not too fast, sweetheart.”
As if there were such a thing as too fast. She snarled and reached for him, more than willing to show him how ready she was. How badly she wanted—needed—him.
He caught her with an arm around her waist and urged her onto her belly. His teeth scraped the back of her neck as he pulled her hips up and froze, obviously waiting for her reaction. It drove another desperate noise from her as she struggled against his grip, trying to push back against him. “Joe, please!”
“This…is what you want,” he rasped. Then he thrust into her with a low, almost tortured groan.
Brynn didn’t just moan. She screamed, tangled up between the sharp physical pleasure and the overwhelming instinctive satisfaction. Her much-valued control, as well as that carefully cultivated sophistication Joe had mocked so roundly, were gone. She could only remember one word, and she ground it out as she clutched the blankets. “Fuck.”
He murmured something unintelligible against her back and drove into her again, his movements hard and fast, one arm braced on the bed beside her and the other wrapped around her hip. The words bubbled up from inside her, from someplace dark and dirty. “Fuck, you feel so good, I need it…need you, need your cock—”
“Jesus Christ, Brynn.” He straightened and drew her hips back to meet his advances, driving his cock deeper, harder. “I want to hear you scream when you come around me.”
“Make me,” she whimpered, and it felt like begging. She wanted to beg, to arch her back and give herself over to him completely. If it hadn’t felt so damn good, she might have been scared.
He slowed to a stop, his cock buried inside her. “I will. I’ll make you come so hard you can’t breathe.”
She groaned in protest and squirmed under his hands, confused by the way her body tightened in pleasure when his fingers d
ug into her hips to still her. “Tell me what I want,” she whispered, voice hoarse and shaking. “Tell me—”
Joe bent to bite her shoulder again and glided his hands under her body, up to her breasts. “You want to give in,” he whispered. “You want to trust me with everything.”
“I already do.” She twisted her head and found his cheek with her lips. “I feel like I’m yours.”
“We’re bonded.” His lips met hers. “We belong to each other right now.”
Right now. She moaned and kissed him, hard and clumsy until he bit her lip and sucked in a sudden breath. Her body tightened and she panted and rocked against him. “I can’t take much more.”
“I know. I feel it…” He resumed his fast-paced thrusts with a low, desperate growl.
That was when she remembered that all of her feelings weren’t her own. Instinct forced her head back, and the possessive satisfaction that flooded her when his teeth nipped at her neck had to be his. She felt his pleasure at the hot, tight grip of her body and the way she writhed for him with every thrust, and an odd thread of determined concentration as his fingers tightened on her hip.
He lifted her body a little more, and she figured out he was using the bond between them to find the perfect angle when his next thrust made her scream. He held her there and thrust again, his low rumbling growl of encouragement vibrating against her back.
When he thrust into her the third time, her body spasmed and she came. The rush of ecstasy that seized her was echoed when Joe choked out her name and rocked against her, his cock pulsing with the force of his orgasm.
She collapsed to the bed with Joe half on top of her and her body still humming from shared pleasure. Their hearts raced, hers a little faster than his, and the sound filled her ears along with their shallow breaths.
He moved a little and bit the back of her neck. He didn’t say anything.
He didn’t have to.
Brynn shivered. “Do it again.”
He did, with more force, and a quiet growl rumbled out of him. Her body tightened and she moaned softly, overwhelmed by a sleepy, sated satisfaction that she realized belatedly was coming from him. “God,” she whispered. “That was…”
“Mm-hmm.” He rolled to his side, his arm still around her. “Sleep.”
“I’m not…” Her protest died when she realized she was tired, even though she’d spent twelve of the last fifteen hours asleep. Eat, sleep and fuck. Maybe that’s all I can do now. It wasn’t the most encouraging thought.
His lips brushed her ear. “Your body expended a lot of energy healing you up, not to mention the change and the bonding. We both need rest.”
“Wake me up if I dream,” she whispered. “I don’t want to dream.”
“Dream of me.” The words blew against her skin, making her shiver. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on him, on the heat of his skin and the strength in his body as he sheltered her. She focused on his steady heartbeat and the tickle of his breath against the back of her neck, and the way the room smelled of him, and safety.
She focused on the hand on her stomach, and the way it rubbed tiny circles against her skin as he murmured something too low to understand. Quiet. Strong. Soothing.
Something worth dreaming about.
Dylan arrived on Joe’s doorstep toting a massive basket that Joe recognized as the alpha’s. The younger man smiled a little half-heartedly as he hefted it. “Food. Some of it’s from Sam, some of it’s stuff Cindy had. I guess the town gives her more food than she can eat most weeks.”
“Only way some of them can pay her.” Joe slung his damp towel over his shoulder and took the basket. “Brynn’s asleep. Come in.”
“Is she…” Dylan trailed off, seeming almost afraid to finish the question. He stepped across the threshold and closed the door before taking a deep breath. “She’s not okay. It’s a dumb thing to ask. How could she be?”
“No, she’s not. But she will be.” If he said the words enough, Joe might start to believe them himself. He set the basket on the counter and opened it. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, I’m fine.” The words sounded forced, with an edge of jagged guilt Joe had no problem recognizing.
“I have two legs,” he murmured. At Dylan’s confused look, Joe sighed. “Pull the other one, I mean.” He aligned two casseroles on the countertop. “You feel guilty?”
“Well, yeah.” Dylan leaned back against the front door and closed his eyes, his entire posture defeated. “I’ve got a pretty solid track record of not being around to keep Alan from hurting the people I care about.”
“Bullshit.”
His voice was bland, but Dylan still stiffened. For a few moments Joe thought he might argue, but in the end Dylan slumped back against the door, brittle resignation in every line of his body. “If you say so.”
“No, not because I say so.” Joe stacked the covered dishes and slipped them into the refrigerator. “Because it’s true. You did everything you could to protect Abby, and none of us saw this shit with Brynn coming.”
“I knew better, Joe. I knew it wasn’t safe to have friends. I was selfish and stupid and thought I could keep Abby separate from my crappy fucking life, and now this is what they get for knowing me.”
“Uh-huh.” The look on the younger wolf’s face was heartbreaking, but Joe steeled himself against any overt display of sympathy and kept his expression neutral. “You keep hogging all the blame, kid, and there’s not going to be any left over for Alan Matthews.”
Defiance flashed in Dylan’s eyes for the first time. “I don’t think my share is putting much of a dent in it. Not compared to the alpha-werewolf parade.”
“Maybe not. We’re a demanding lot.” Joe opened the refrigerator again. “Want a beer?”
“Sure.” Dylan pushed off the door. “If you don’t mind company. You must be tired.”
He was exhausted, both from worry and from keeping Brynn on an even keel. But he was also antsy, on edge. “I could use some quiet time.”
Dylan hesitated. “I don’t know if that was an invitation to stay or a request to leave. I’m not really used to other wolves wanting me around though, so…”
Joe clarified his statement by pulling two beers from the refrigerator and offering one to Dylan. “Have a seat. If you want.”
“Thanks.” Dylan twisted the cap off the beer but didn’t sit. “I want to help Brynn, but I don’t know how. All Keith keeps saying is that she needs time, and that you need time with her.”
“That’s about the long and short of it, as far as I can tell.” Unease prickled over Joe’s skin. He didn’t even know how to help Brynn, not really, but Dylan was looking to him for reassurance about his friend. “As long as we keep fighting, she’ll make it through this.”
“I don’t know what it means.” The admission was reluctant, and tinged with an edge of annoyance that seemed directed inward. “I’ve been a werewolf almost ten years, and I don’t—I don’t even really understand what happened to her, and why it’s so bad.”
“Moon madness,” Joe whispered. “Lunatics, Dylan. They called crazy people that because they thought the full moon made them lose their shit. I don’t know how true that is for humans, but…” He gulped his beer and rubbed the bottle across his forehead. “You know that pull inside you? The way the wolf rises when the moon waxes close to full and makes you more animal than anything else?”
The chair scraped across the wooden floor, and Dylan sank into it with a whispered curse. “Is that what…” His gaze jumped to the door. “All the time?”
“I think so. That’s what it feels like through the bond, anyway.”
“Christ.” Dylan’s hands shook so badly the bottle rattled against the table as he put it down. “Do you know what Brynn hates more than anything in the world?”
He thought of the sophisticated mien she fought so hard to maintain. “I don’t know. Looking foolish, I guess.”
“She hates that all right, but that’s just a symptom. The o
ne thing Brynn can’t stand is not being in control of herself. She never gets drunk, she never did drugs. No one ever saw what Brynn was feeling unless she wanted them to.” Dylan’s sudden laugh sounded strained. “Or they had superhearing. Why do you think she’s been so freaked out about everyone being able to read her emotions?”
If he tried, Joe could still remember the sense of invasion, the loss of privacy. “That might seem like a tiny problem now.” He sat down in the chair opposite Dylan’s and braced his elbows on the table. “I don’t think anyone knows what her life is going to be like. Most wolves turned during the full moon don’t make it.”
Dylan’s gaze drifted to the bedroom door again. “Can I see her?”
“She’s not ready to see anyone yet. You get that, right?”
“Yeah.” It sounded more defeated than surprised, and Dylan closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his face. “I get it. I just… Jesus, there’s got to be something I can do other than sit in Cindy’s house.”
Even an idiot could see how unappealing that was to Dylan at the moment. “Why don’t you see if Gavin and Sam need help with the witch? She…” Joe cleared his throat. “She was pretty shaken up, and you seem good at calming people down.”
Tension raced through the room before Dylan clenched his eyes shut. His hand shook as he lifted his beer and drained half of it. “Practice,” he whispered finally. “Anyone who’s spent time in the Helena pack knows how to calm down traumatized victims. Unless you’re one of the ones traumatizing them to begin with.”
Joe was so tired that he wasn’t prepared for the vicious surge of anger Dylan’s words evoked. “We’ll get him, Dylan, and we’ll stop him. I swear.”
Dylan finished his beer and rose to his feet, his expression still tight. “I need to do something before I lose my mind, so I’m going over to Gavin’s. But if Brynn needs something…”
“I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks.” Dylan moved toward the door, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “Some of Brynn’s asshole boyfriends used to get jealous of me. Everyone thought she had a big crush on me or something. But she didn’t. She just liked having me around because I paid attention to the little things that made her happy.”
