Cherished

by Belinda Boring

  Cherished

  Cherished

  Midpoint

  Praise for the Bestselling Mystic Wolves series

  “The emotions are so raw and powerful, amazing in such a short piece. You could practically taste them rolling off of the characters: the fear, the anger, the rage, the grief, and even the love.” – Kim Deister, The Caffeinated Diva Reviews.

  “Without Mercy is fantastic! The first sentence grabbed me and never let go! This is a wonderfully written piece of work. Descriptive wording, clever plot, interesting and carefully created characters, a smooth flowing storyline, and an ending that both satisfies and leaves you wanting MORE stories from the author.” – Beverly Sharp, The Wormhole Reviews.

  “From the very beginning, Without Mercy is action packed and had me filled with intrigue as to where the story would lead. I was literally sitting on the edge of my seat waiting to read what the characters did next and what the outcome would be.” – Naomi McKay, Supernatural Bookworm.

  “Loved this story and I'm eagerly awaiting more in this series! Belinda has created a world I want to sink my teeth into!” – Deena Remiel, author of the bestselling Brethren series and Picture Perfect.

  Dedication

  To my parents - for the constant support and care packages, stuffed full of chocolates and pieces of home.

  Mum - for always being on the other end of the phone whenever I need you. Thanks for not laughing at my crazy accent.

  Dad - for loving Without Mercy even though you shared “vampires and werewolves are usually not on your reading list.” I’m definitely a Daddy’s girl!

  I miss you both so much.

  And to Aunt Nancy – Just like Mason does all he can to make Darcy feel loved, I’ll never forget all the cards, conversations and times you made me feel welcomed. I love you.

  Acknowledgements

  They say it takes a village to raise a family but it also applies to writing a story. First and foremost, I want to send out a HUGE shout out and thank you to my best friend Lacey. Where would I be without your unfailing support and cheerleading? I’m absolutely positive Cherished wouldn’t exist today if you hadn’t whispered in my ear, “Bels … you need to turn this into a series.” You are in every bit of this book – from cover to formatting to “Get your butt back on your computer and write!” I love you and would be lost without you.

  Secondly, I wanted to give a BIG thank you to Deena Remiel, the woman who loves to make me SWOON. A busy author herself, I can’t begin to express how grateful I am for the hours she spends chatting with me on Facebook. Whenever I needed to talk “shop” or ask questions, you were always there to listen. You helped keep me giddy when I was discouraged and squee with me when the ideas were flowing. It’s because of you; I’m brave enough to branch out! Thank you!

  To my brave beta reader – Stephanie Overton. I was so worried when I sent you the manuscript because Cherished was definitely different from Without Mercy. There was a lot of romance and I was scared that “The Bookish Snob” would bomb. Your notes and comments made me tear up and gave my goose bumps. Thank you so much for your time and friendship. You rock!

  To my hero – Mark. Heaven blessed me to have a husband like you. For all those nights when I was up late writing, thank you for being patient. Thank you for being the inspiration behind Mason because truly, he wouldn’t make me swoon as hard if it wasn’t for the fact I think of you. I love you … always and forever.

  Last of all, big SMOOCHIES to everyone who has made this experience amazing. It was a big leap of faith publishing but the support and love I’ve received from you all has made it worth it. Thank you for reading Without Mercy and for purchasing this book. It means so much to me. Happy reading!

  Belinda Boring

  Cherished

  A Mystic Wolves Novella

  by

  Belinda Boring

  Copyright 2011 Belinda Boring

  Moonstruck Media

  Cover art by Lacey Weatherford

  Smashwords Edition

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  Cherished

  A gun shot broke the silence and drug me screaming through the choking darkness. Gasping for breath, frantically seeking for something to cling to, I faltered for a moment when I found the space beside me empty. I struggled to focus, my hands restlessly moving about, but there was nothing. That’s when the terror began to pull me back under.

  Flashes of images so shocking fired rapidly at me. They were jumbled at first, but slowly they began to make sense and it came with a gut wrenching pain that stole my breath. Suddenly my ears were filled with the fury laden howl of a wolf. My wolf. She was furious and in no way consolable. The nightmare had triggered memories in her also.

  My heart raced, beating hard against my chest and I let out a strangled whimper as I fought to regain control. Closing my eyes, I tried to block out the thoughts bombarding me as the events of the night began to replay themselves. Without realizing, I started to rock back and forth.

  Jasmine. Beautiful, sweet, perfect Jasmine. Gone, and it was all my fault. It was my stubborn pride—thinking I could protect us that had led to the fateful encounter. It was because of my inability to act that I couldn’t stop him from stealing her from me.

  Bile rose in my throat, bringing with it a taste that caused my wolf to suddenly stop her howling. A new feeling surged through me, one of triumph and a strong sense of retribution. She was pleased with her part in the evening and I couldn’t help the shudders that overtook my body as I connected the unique flavor filling my mouth.

  Flesh and blood. His. I couldn’t hide away from the small sense of satisfaction I felt. Even though I hadn’t been able to take care of it, she had. She’d taken a firm hold of the situation, pushed me into the background and hunted the monster down. Without mercy. Without hesitation.

  Tearing him limb from limb until he was unrecognizable, she refused to give back control, adamant she was the only way to keep us safe. Looking down at my body as it nestled under piles of soft, warm blankets, I strained to remember how I managed to convince her to release me.

  A name whispered in my mind and my muscles instantly relaxed as if the mere mention of him was enough to ease the tension. Mason. He had come and his help had restored me. He’d seen the devastation, how I’d failed him and still he had patiently been there.

  Shame pounded into me. How could I possibly look him in the eye again, knowing I cost him his beloved sister? Sure, he brought me back, but that was more the duty of an Alpha, and I doubt he would still want to mate with me.

  Just the idea of never completing the bond stirred up fear and an agony so acute, tears began to stream done my face. I pulled my knees up into my chest and hugged them, continuing my steady rocking.

  What am I going to do?

  Thoughts raced through my mind and I could feel the hysteria building. The nightmare had finally released me from its grip, but now a new one, a world without Jasmine, Mason, and my pack, began to shape and it was by far the most terrifying.

  A noise erupted into the air, disturbing the silence of the room. It took a moment to realize I was the one making it. I was shocked to hear how weak and destitute I sounded. There was nothing confident about it. It belonged to someone who had just lost everything and the weight of it crushed me.

  I clamped a hand over my mouth, desperate to stop the noise before it brought people
to my room. The last thing I needed was everyone trying to figure out what happened. That would come soon enough if I knew the rumor mill at all. I was part of a pretty amazing pack, the Mystic Wolves, but like most, we enjoyed a little gossip and I wasn’t ready to face it.

  Another thought shot through my mind, one that made me wince. I can’t let anyone see me like this—vulnerable and weak.

  Being almost mated to the Alpha came with authority and a position of pride amongst the pack—a greatly coveted position for those looking to advance. I’d made sure to maintain friendly relationships with everyone, but who knew when someone would get it in their head to throw down the gauntlet.

  Maybe that’s the best thing. Have someone challenge me and let them win. It would solve everyone’s problem. Even before the thought was completed, it made me choke. Yes, things felt dire at the moment, but this wasn’t me. I wasn’t a wolf to just lie down and bare my throat without a fight. I may feel like a failure, but I would never do something so cowardly.

  No, I need to just leave. Get out of bed, pack a few things and go into hiding. Mason will eventually forget me and stop looking. If I run far enough, maybe I can start again.

  My wolf growled at the idea, showing me just how distasteful my musings were. Mason had reached her earlier and she was now fiercely loyal to him. She didn’t want to hear any nonsense about leaving. Besides, as she warned me, Mason would never stop looking and he’d bring in other packs to help. The only way to avoid that was to go rogue and that bristled against my pride. I was too much of a “pack” girl to ever go it alone.

  What am I going to do?

  You’re going to stop thinking and just let me hold you, a voice as warm as melted chocolate echoed through my mind and slid over my body. I stopped my rocking and opened my eyes, looking for the source.

  “Mason?”

  I’m here. Just waiting and watching.

  A rustle from the corner of the room drew my attention and I found him—the man who made my heart sing and dance, sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. A closer look showed he was still in the same clothes from yesterday, giving him a crumpled look I couldn’t deny was sexy. Each time I looked at him, it stole my heart and it hurt to know I’d lost him.

  “What are you doing down there? Something wrong with the chair?” I looked over to the plush armchair I had everyone drag in for me and I instantly saw the problem—it was covered with piles of unfolded clothes. Being the procrastinator I am, I’d never got around to putting them away.

  “I wanted you to rest, but couldn’t bring myself to leave. You tossed and turned a lot.”

  Speaking aloud, Mason’s voice had the same effect over me. To some, he just sounded like an ordinary guy, but as a werewolf I could feel the authority and power flowing through it. I could also hear his weariness and sorrow.

  “You didn’t want to share my bed?” I couldn’t believe how small I sounded as I spoke my fears. It hurt knowing he found me so repulsive he’d rather sit on a hard floor than beside me.

  I closed my eyes again, hoping to hide from his answers. If he was going to break it off with me, I’d rather not see it coming.

  There was a slight noise before I felt the mattress lower as Mason sat down beside me. I instantly began rocking again, my body moving involuntarily and it was seconds before I was encased in strong arms.

  The calming, potent scent of wolf mixed with Mason hit me and I filled my lungs with it, memorizing it for future use. My heartbeat sought out his and slowed itself to match. My chest rose and fell in time with his. For the first time since I awoke, I felt some semblance of peace.

  “Darcy, you think too much,” Mason whispered, and he tightened his embrace. “It hurts me to hear you.”

  “It’s true though,” I murmured, “Why would you want me?”

  “Because you’re mine.”

  With that simple declaration, I fell apart.

  Wave after wave of every emotion I lived through in the past twenty four hours washed over me, filling me up before erupting out in short, hard gasps. Drawing breath was near impossible as I panted through the pain and sobbed as my heart broke all over again. As one cry finished, another began and everything faded away, leaving me drowning in grief. It was relentless; I couldn’t escape it, forcing me to ride it out.

  Slow, soothing strokes against my back were my lifeline, Mason’s steady presence a reminder I wasn’t alone and I clutched onto him as my anchor. Gradually, my chest stopped tightening and my cries turned into muffled hiccups as I buried my face into him.

  “Are you okay?” Mason asked softly, his hand leaving my back to run his fingers through my hair. His voice sounded thick with emotion and a quick glance at his face, confirmed my suspicions. I hadn’t wept alone.

  Pulling back slightly, I reached up and tenderly brushed away his tears with the pad of my thumb. Mason returned the favor, his focus never leaving my face. I’m not sure how I missed it before. Yes, there was a look of weariness and deep sadness, but there was also love blazing in his eyes. This was a man who adored me, who would wage war with the Devil himself, and he was all mine. My wolf howled in agreement.

  You better believe I’m all yours. It’s you and me forever, Darcy. No matter what.

  He spoke again into my mind, and I tentatively reached out to answer him. I love you, Mason. I’m so sorry. I couldn’t help let go of a sigh at being able to connect with him mentally. It troubled me that it hadn’t worked earlier and before I could ask why, he interrupted me.

  “There’s plenty of time to talk, babe. We’ll work on it. Right now, I just want to make sure you’re okay. You scared me last night and I hate feeling that way. I’m struggling with the death of Jasmine, but to think I almost lost you too … I don’t think I would survive that.”

  “Even a big bad wolf like you?” I offered a weak smile as I stroking his cheek, touched at the emotion he was showing me.

  “Yes, even a big bad wolf like me. You’re everything to me, Darcy. So I don’t ever want to hear you think about leaving. Whatever happens, we face it together.” There was a fierceness in his face now as he spoke, a determination that told me what he just shared was as good as law. Without thought, I leaned forward and brought my lips against his, moving them for a gentle, tender kiss.

  “Thank you,” I whispered, retreating slowly. A flash of hunger fired in his eyes before he pulled back, a look of concern returning to its place. Without warning, Mason lifted me into his arms, and with his back against the headboard, nestled me on his lap. I couldn’t help but squeak at the sudden movement and blushed at how very un-wolf-like it was.

  His chuckle resonated through my back as I got comfortable. Trust him to have heard it. Nothing escaped his notice when it came to me, and he brought his arms around my body, folding me into his own.

  “Want to talk about it?” The question hung in the air and I didn’t know how to answer. Everything inside me screamed to keep silent, to bury it deep, but the look of concern on his face told me he needed this just as much as I did

  I nodded and searched for a place to start. I wasn’t looking forward to reliving it, but hopefully once it was out in the open between us we could heal together. Without any more thought, I opened my mouth and the words poured out. They came slowly at first, and then rapidly. The purging felt good.

  Mason sat quietly, focused on letting me set the pace, but there was no denying the inner turmoil he was going through. As he listened about the threat to me and his sister, and the struggle she went through, electricity churned in the air. His wolf was right at the surface, chomping and snarling, wanting to be released. It showed the amazing strength and control he had, because a lesser wolf would’ve changed under the incredible pressure.

  Even with his fury tightly reined, Mason emitted low growls. When I retold the moment where Jasmine was shot, he leaned his head back and let out the most haunted, terrifying cry I’d ever heard. It was full of grief, maddening in its intensity. His arms became
like iron rods around me and I knew all his protective instincts had kicked in. Had I not already taken care of Gary, Mason would’ve left right at that moment, and not stopped until he destroyed the monster who dared to steal from him.

  I turned my body to sit across his lap so I could reach up to his face. With my fingers, I traced the outline of his cheek. Tenderly, I brought his gaze to mine and it was just as I suspected—his eyes were wolf-like, more evidence of his battle to keep his beast caged. I pulled him closer and kissed his eyelids, resting my forehead against his when I was finished.

  We sat quietly, lost in the moment, clinging to one another. When I felt the change in the air and Mason relax, I looked back at and related the rest of the tale. I told how my wolf had taken charge, hunted the threat down like prey and relished in the kill. I shared everything, showing images through our connection, hoping this would bring him a sense of justice. From the look of feral triumph he gave me, I hoped it would be enough.

  I stared at him for the longest time, trying to judge what he’d do. I knew he was in turmoil, I could see it in his body language and in the way he tightly held me. I caught my breath—waiting. He answered me moments later. One minute I was sitting in his lap, and next I was airborne.

  Mason’s strength always amazed me. Flipped me over so I was lying on my back, he hovered above me. I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing, but a soft growl and focused look stopped me in my tracks.

  Without another word spoken, he set about inspecting every part of my body. He was methodical in his approach, lifting and studying, looking for anything that showed signs of abuse. Every inch met his gaze, and he released small grunts of satisfaction before moving on to the next. I lay there and let him, knowing he wouldn’t simply take my word for it, he needed to see for himself.