Healer's Need

by Rhenna Morgan

  “No, there’s another fridge in the storage area under the patio.” She dipped her head toward the door just to the side of the wood staircase that led up to the raised patio. “Priest keeps it stocked with all kinds of drinks for training days and get-togethers like these. I’m pretty sure I saw some ginger ale earlier today.”

  “I’m on it.” Elise hesitated mid-departure and locked stares with Naomi. “You’ll stay with Sabina, right?”

  Naomi smiled that sweet yet ornery smile of hers. “Oh, I’ll stay with her. Though, as pretty as she is and without you to keep the curious types away, she might have a few of our men with her when you get back.”

  Typical Naomi. If she wasn’t cooking and plying people with food, she was matchmaking and getting into mischief. She spared a quick glance for Sabina. “She only halfway means that. My guess is she’ll at least wait a week or two to try and fix you up with anyone.” With that, she wound through the crowd, sharing smiles and accepting congratulations along the way. Odd, how she could be among so many people—a good chunk of whom she couldn’t yet call by name—and yet still feel so accepted. Even before the Keeper had chosen her as prima, she’d been welcomed. The only difference between that first night Tate had introduced her to everyone and today was her willingness to accept their inclusion. To really lower the shields she’d used to keep herself safe and believe she truly belonged.

  The storage room proved to be more of an improvised enclosure. Tight latticework stained to match the wood patio above surrounded what had once been an open space and tiny beams of soft evening sunlight streamed through the narrow diamonds to give the open area a secret hideaway feel. Inside was everything a person would need to throw the kind of gatherings Priest held. Lawn chairs, Tiki torches, tables, coolers, blankets... Basically an outdoor party mecca.

  Elise wound through the neatly arranged contents to the fridge standing in the farthest corner. All around her, the soft chatter of voices and music from outside mingled with the shadows. She popped open the door, more than a little surprised to find every single space on the shelves and all the drawers chock full of everything from beer to juice boxes.

  “I don’t care if they’re mates. She won’t hold his attention. She can’t.”

  Elise froze at the unmistakable bite of Vanessa’s voice, the direction of it coming just behind the bookshelf to one side of the refrigerator.

  “Mates don’t cheat, Vanessa.” Whether the near whispered response was Bren or Taya was hard to say, but there was no way it was Dacie or Renda. Neither one of them seemed capable of saying anything without a giggle.

  “Then he’ll be miserable for the rest of his life,” Vanessa said. “Have you seen them together? He treats her like she’ll break if he looks at her wrong. I know Tate. He needs the hunt. Craves it. The few times he fucked me, he was unmerciful, but the way he acts around her, he’d never go there. I’m telling you, if he can’t hunt, they won’t last.”

  “They’re mates.” This from Taya for sure, the strength in her voice rising just a little above the rest of the crowd. “The Keeper doesn’t screw up. If she thought Elise was right for Tate, then there’s a reason for it.”

  “The Keeper doesn’t screw up for people who know what it means to be Volán. She’s clueless. More singura than she is one of us.”

  It was bullshit.

  Unadulterated and absolute bullshit.

  Elise knew it as sure as she knew the sun would set tonight. But there was a part of her—that tender, vulnerable center she’d spent so many years trying to shield and protect—that quavered at Vanessa’s claims. That wanted to curl inward and safeguard itself from the risk of loss.

  Nothing to lose.

  Only more to be gained.

  The thought from her eagle flowed through her as easily as the wind rippling against her feathers. An encouragement and a command, her fearless nature urging her forward. To fly into the challenge presented rather than seek shelter, exactly as Priest had promised she would.

  The chilled air from the refrigerator washed over her and the vast selections laid out inside sat like an odd metaphor of all the paths she could take in light of what she’d heard.

  You know what you want, her companion whispered. Take it.

  She did know. Maybe she hadn’t known the details of it or been in a place where she could articulate it, but she’d felt it. Had sensed the something missing—the loss—when Tate had seemed to rein himself in that first night. Had craved an intangible wildness every time she’d stroked her finger against his mark and felt the tender bruise he’d left on her skin.

  He needs the hunt.

  She forced herself into motion, found the ginger ale tucked into one of the shelves on the door and hurried back to Sabina and Naomi. She still didn’t understand exactly what Vanessa meant by the hunt, but she had a good idea it was tied to the tight control Tate kept on himself. Maybe even why the bond hadn’t formed when she’d felt it so close that first night.

  Coyotes are hunters, Priest had said. I’m telling you sometimes action is more effective than talking.

  Oh, yeah. She had resources now. Lots of them. And she’d figure out what Vanessa meant in short order.

  Then she was going to fly headlong into the storm.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Something was wrong with Elise. Or maybe not wrong, so much as different. Dangerously so. For the life of him, Tate couldn’t figure out what the change was, but his coyote felt it, too, and was restless and irritable. Pacing inside him and refusing to settle. Which made it hella hard to focus on the work in front of him. Especially when the client was in her early twenties and putting off vibes that said she wasn’t just comfortable in her sexuality, but open to exploring it with him.

  He finished the last of the shading, wiped away the excess ink and rolled his stool back enough to consider the overall outcome. Placed high on one outer thigh, Merry’s new turtle looked as if he were out for a stroll toward her feet, but had paused for a moment to glance up at her face. Whatever doubts he’d had about her sexual interests before they’d started working this afternoon had been cleared up quick when she’d asked him to add Shibari rope around the turtle’s body in an intricate diamond pattern. He had to admit—fucked up worries about Elise or not—the result was not only stellar, but beautifully original.

  “I’m naming him Jürgee,” Merry said.

  “Yeah?” He snatched the healing ointment and bandages he needed to get her finished up. Normally, he’d appreciate some decent post-art conversation, but without Elise here to balance him out, it felt awkward. Wrong. And why the hell she’d pushed back on coming to work with him like she had the last few weeks, he still didn’t understand. “Any particular reason?”

  “I’m a football nut. I love Jürgen Klopp.”

  Interesting. He could count on one hand the number of females he’d met who loved soccer. Even less who so subtly, yet openly expressed their interest in kink. If he’d met her a few months ago, this conversation would have unequivocally gone an entirely different direction. Now? His heart just wasn’t in it. “Why a turtle?”

  “They know how to endure. How to keep going.” She hesitated long enough for him to meet her eyes and cocked her head. The way her short dark hair was cut added a certain impishness to her faery features. “They never give up.”

  Insightful, too. Too bad Alek was holed up with Sabina at Jenny’s house following any and all rabbit trails to Draven. He had a feeling Merry could give him a run for his money. “No, they don’t.” He finished up the bandage, tugged off his black latex gloves and tossed them in the trash. He was just about to bypass any further banter by digging into aftercare instructions when Katy strolled through the open doorway and braced one hand lightly on the doorjamb.

  “Hey, Tate. Elise just called. She asked if you could sneak away and help her with something at the cabin.”


  He tugged his phone from his back pocket. No missed calls showed on the screen and the signal strength showed maximum reach. “Why’d she call you?”

  Katy shrugged, but there was a mischief behind her gaze. “Beats me. Maybe she knew you had an appointment and didn’t want to mess you up?”

  Maybe.

  But the late-afternoon appointment had just been scheduled this morning, so how would she have known?

  His coyote paced and grumbled, its predator instincts prickling right alongside his own. “Did she say what’s wrong?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. Just said she needed something. I checked with Priest. He can cover for the rest of the night, so you don’t have to come back.”

  Lie.

  Not the part about Priest. That much she’d really done, but not knowing what was up with Elise was utter crap. His companion scented the deception behind her words and actions as clearly as the stench of a decaying carcass on the wind.

  For a split second, he considered pushing for more info. Or at least nosing around until he got a better feel for what was going on. But Katy was an alpha in her own right and Priest’s right hand for a reason. He’d have about as much luck getting intel out of her as he’d have of Jade minding her own business the rest of his life.

  He stood, pulled one printout of the standard aftercare instructions from the stack on his shelf and handed the paper to Merry. “Do we need to go over these?”

  She took the paper and smiled, a secret one that spoke of a whole new level of interest. “Who’s Elise?”

  He tucked his phone back into his pocket and went about breaking down his equipment. “My mate,” he answered too quickly. But then, given Merry’s apparent orientation, she probably wouldn’t make as much of the label as an ordinary singura. He glanced back at her and tried for a calm, unhurried tone. “If you have any problems, call the number on the bottom of that sheet.”

  Not the least bit bothered by the fact that all she had on her lower half was a lacy thong or Kateri now leaning one shoulder on the doorjamb with her arms crossed at her chest, Merry stood and unfolded her jeans from the sofa along the far wall. “I know the drill. I’ll be fine.” Her low chuckle mingled with the rasp of the denim against her skin. “Not sure about you, though. Your mate sounds like she’s got some kind of surprise waiting for you. I’m almost sorry I’ll miss it.”

  The next thirty minutes went by way too slow, Tate cursing the time it took to semi-politely get Merry on her way and the subsequent drive from Main Street to the lake. Every mile was a torture. An extended opportunity for his mind to ponder and twist possible scenarios that might be in store for him. By the time he finally pulled off the main road and onto the bumpy road that wound to the cabin, his patience was too frayed to baby his Camaro with a slow pace and he nearly screeched to a halt only five feet from the porch.

  Elise strolled out the front door just as he slammed his car door shut. Whether it was the look on her face, or her appearance that kept him locked in place he wasn’t sure, but both man and beast paused, assessing the energy that gripped her. Visually, she was the epitome of comfort and ease. Bare feet. A simple green cotton dress that barely reached three or four inches below her ass and tiny straps he could snap with a minimal tug. Hair loose and wild around her face.

  But it was a ploy.

  His coyote sensed it. Bristled at the external ruse and subtle challenge burning behind her deep green eyes.

  Mine.

  The claim rose up in an overwhelming surge, nearly knocking him back a step. The need to chase, to possess and mark her in every way he could consuming him completely. Driving him. Lashing him with a primal demand.

  He braced one hand on the top of his car and tried to still his ragged breaths.

  Elise noted his hand on the car then gauged the distance between them. You couldn’t quite call the answering response on her lips a grin, but there was no missing the pleasure in her expression. “Everything okay?”

  “I thought I’d ask you the same thing. Katy said you needed help with something.”

  This time her mouth quirked and a coy smile slid into place. “I might have misrepresented things just a little.”

  So playful. And yet there was steel behind her response. A dare uttered indirectly. “What’s going on, Elise?”

  She ducked her head and slowly descended the two steps. With her curves, even a simple stroll was a sensual delight, but today her hips swayed with invitation. “What makes you think there’s something going on? Maybe I just missed my mate and wanted to see you.” She stopped just out of reach and peeked at him from beneath her lashes. “There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”

  Too far away.

  Too tempting.

  “You’re playing with me, mihara. That’s a dangerous thing.”

  “Is it?” She lifted her head and met his stare head-on. “I wouldn’t know.” Her gaze slid down his body and her expression softened. Warmed with that liquid sensuality that drove him insane. “I’d like to, though.”

  Ah, hell.

  He couldn’t do this. Not yet. It was too soon. Too early in their relationship.

  She tilted her head to one side and skimmed her fingers along the curve where her neck and shoulders met, tracing the spot where his mark once was. “I miss it.”

  So did he. Had fought the last two nights replacing it and giving her even more. But he didn’t trust himself. The drive that followed was too savage. A risk he wasn’t willing to take.

  She ventured another step forward. “I’m tired of wondering what my mate is holding back. Tired of imagining what it would be like to feel you lose control. To be the one who pushed you too far.”

  Fuck.

  “Elise...”

  “Of course, you’re not the only Volán who likes to hunt, are you?”

  One second. One barely veiled threat and his beast demanded release. Snipped and snarled and clawed against Tate’s wavering restraint. He prowled forward, the growl in his voice a lethal warning. The harshest he’d ever given her. “Careful, mate.”

  She stood her ground, her smile pure wickedness. A woman fully immersed in her feminine power and refusing to balk. “Why? You’re being careful enough for both of us.”

  He reached for her, intent on calming both him and his companion with physical contact.

  She dodged his grip and braced on the balls of her feet, a triumphant grin tilting her lips. She dipped her chin. Not in surrender, but in blatant provocation, her eyes locked on his and her body braced for attack. “Oh, no you don’t. If you want to touch me, you’ll have to earn it.”

  Mine.

  He shot forward, the primitive compulsion he’d held in check for over a month eradicated on the simple thought.

  But Elise was already gone, her quick footsteps crashing through forest’s undergrowth headed toward the lake.

  His coyote’s instincts pushed forward, latching on to her scent and the trajectory of her escape even before the shift completed. The landscape changed. Sharpened. Every hunter compulsion in him fully engaged and compelling him forward.

  Trees blurred past on either side of him. The wide expanse of the lake stretched out ahead and the late evening sun spilled deepening shadows throughout the forest.

  But the only thing that mattered was the floral-and-sugar scent that drifted on the air. The crash of her feet against leaves not yet decomposed from the winter and the random snap of twigs.

  Still on foot.

  She could have easily taken to the air and escaped him for however long she wanted, but she’d stayed in human form and mostly stayed to the path they’d run the last few days.

  She wants the hunt.

  Not an observation from his companion, but a demand. An inevitable truth he couldn’t fight anymore. Didn’t want to.

  He surrendered to it. Let his coyote
have the lead and welcomed the wildness. No censure. No restraints. Just him, his beast—and their prey.

  His heart settled into an accelerated, but steady rhythm. His muscles stretched and warmed from the thrill and the chase. His mind sharpened and his blood hummed with anticipation. Over boulders and fallen stumps. Between trees and prickly shrubs. Every step she’d taken he followed. Recreated her path even as his hunter instincts projected her trajectory.

  There.

  A flash of green too artificial to blend with that created by nature and a glint of sun off her blond hair. Less than two hundred feet from the tiny cove they’d discovered yesterday morning.

  He poured on the speed, not bothering to hide his pursuit. She needed to hear him coming. To know and accept what she’d earned with her challenge.

  He veered off track. Cut beneath the underbrush and aimed toward the cove.

  Another twig snapped, and a tiny whimper cut through the air.

  Barefoot.

  And she’d run like a madwoman through the forest that way.

  He’d fucking paddle her ass for that move. Would tend to whatever wounds she’d created in her reckless maneuvers, then bend her over, spank every inch of her delectable skin until she’d never do something so stupid again.

  Right after her fucked her.

  Hard.

  He burst through the tree line at the far side of the cove just as she came into sight on the opposite side.

  Startled, she stumbled as she broke through a scraggly hedge and fell to her knees, catching herself with her hands on the loamy bank. She froze and watched him, her eyes wide and her breaths coming in ragged, uneven pants. Her hair was tousled and a sprig of evergreen sat tangled in one strand along the side. Along her arms and legs were tiny cuts borne from crashing through the briars he’d gone out of his way to make sure she’d avoided on days prior, the sight of her blood lashing his fury even higher.

  He growled and prowled closer, his head lowered and muscles coiled to spring forward.