The one who sassed me with that hot, come-here grin. She should run to me, not away from me.
Since when? Aylin's not mine.
A tingle tickled my wrist and moved upward. The sensation lit a fire in my blood and awakened my soul. I rubbed my arm to sooth the discomfort as my thoughts drifted to Aylin's touch. My blood simmered.
“Honey bear, you left me for this joint?”
My head snapped up at the annoying whine of a woman who definitely wasn't running from me.
Catherine's perfectly manicured hand wrapped around my shoulders. My blood ran cold. She leaned her body over mine until her breasts pushed against my shoulders.
Twenty minutes ago, her blatant attempt at getting into my pants would have worked. After my interaction with Aylin, the thought sickened me. I washed down my revulsion with another gulp of my beer. I should have left with Aylin.
“Sorry, Cat, but I'm calling it a night.” I finished off my beer and rose.
She must have misinterpreted my need to leave, because she whispered, “Your place or mine?”
Her hot breath did little to ignite any form of passion within me. No, Aylin's touch left me scorched from the inside out. My body called to her. Only her.
I was pussy-whipped by a woman who I kissed once. A woman who would hang my balls up by a string if she knew I thought of her sexually. But I couldn't get her out of my mind. I rubbed my tingling wrist. Every sign pointed to Aylin hiding something, and I intended to find out what.
Chasing her could be fun. I smiled. Dangerous, but fun.
Catherine stroked my hand, but I stepped back, hands raised. “No, Catherine. I'm sorry, but it's over.”
“What the fuck, Connor? You're such a freaking tease.” She glared at me.
Oh, well. I felt bad for how my evening turned out, but I couldn't proceed with Cat when my body was calling for Aylin. I wasn't wired that way. “I'm sorry, Cat.”
She stormed off and ran right into Brad. I couldn't make out what she said, but her animated arms screamed, “I'm pissed.” He placed a hand around her shoulders and glared at me.
I marched to the bar and paid off my tab and Aylin's.
“So, how've you been?” Murphy grabbed a rag and wiped the bar in front of me. His actions seemed too cautious, too measured.
“Fine.” I waited for him to get to his point.
Murphy was about six feet of pure bulk topped with tattoos and long hair. He lived a rough life, but was kind and accepted our pack with open arms. Despite his rugged looks, he was shy.
His gaze shifted to the far side of the room, but soon returned to me. “And Aylin?” He twisted the rag in his hands, before plopping it in a sanitation bucket.
I clenched my fists under the bar and reminded myself that Murphy was old enough to be Aylin's grandpa. I stretched my fingers and tried to relax. “I'm not sure, Murphy.”
“She's been in here a lot lately. Always late at night. Always after the next drunken binge. If I didn't know any better, I would say she's running from something.”
I ran a hand through my hair. “I think you may be onto something. Listen, if she comes in here again, give me a call.” I scribbled my number on a napkin and slid it across the counter.
“Sure thing.” He slipped the napkin into his pocket and glanced over my shoulder. “I think trouble's stirring.”
The hair on the back of my neck stood on alert. I turned to look. Brad and three of his overly large buddies huddled close together. With fists raised, each one had a varying level of disgust displayed on his face. Cat clung to Brad's arm, smiling like she had won the lottery.
“Fuck!” I muttered and headed for the door. No way would I get into another fight here. The last time, Murphy made me repair every piece of furniture and even had me paint the damn bar. He wasn't too forgiving when it came to his precious baby.
“No fighting in the bar!” Murphy shouted over the mutters, which died instantly.
When I passed the men displaying their self-evident bravado, I never faltered. I gave a slight nod. “Gentlemen.”
“Hey!”
I ignored Brad and walked out the door. Obviously, my earlier conversation with him hadn’t sunk in. I should have taken him on earlier, but then my concern had been Aylin.
I welcomed the cold breeze. My boots crunched across the partially frozen pebbles that lined the gravel parking lot.
Someone grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. Brad, with his goons close behind him. Cat followed at a slower pace.
“Hey, I'm talking to you.”
“Brad, I'm not up for a fight tonight. Just go home, enjoy your company with Cat and leave me and Aylin alone.”
Cat's smile widened. “See,” she whispered to Brad, whose nostrils' flared.
I could almost see the steam rising from his head in the cold night air. His whole demeanor screamed it was time to take off the gloves. I rarely started fights, but I never backed down from one. My position within the pack required me to stay fit and keep members inline, and that meant having my status as second-in-command challenged.
Tonight, Brad wanted blood.
“You're a cocky sumabitch,” he drawled, the alcohol slurring his insult.
The bar door banged as more patrons stepped into the parking lot seeking free entertainment.
“Brad, I need to check on Aylin. We can discuss this once you sober up.” I fought the urge to stuff my chilled hands into the pockets of my jeans and met Brad's glare. I wasn't challenging him, but I'd be damned if I showed submission to him either.
He grabbed the front of my shirt. “You take out this beauty”—he pointed to Cat with his free hand—“while you're fucking someone else, then rub it in her face?”
I grabbed his wrist and twisted it from my shirt. He screeched in pain. “I don't cheat. I just changed my mind about whom I wanted to go home with tonight.”
Four men charged. Okay, that probably wasn't the best thing to say.
Brad's fist clipped the side of my jaw. I sidestepped and plowed forward like a linebacker, knocking him down. I landed two hard right hooks to his face before one of his men pulled me off.
I slammed my head backwards and head butted my captor. His grip loosened and he shouted colorful phrases. Holding his nose, blood dripped off his chin. One out for the count. Three to go.
I widened my stance and assumed a boxing pose. These bastards had no clue what type of monster they had unleashed.
Brad staggered up from the ground.
Cautious, but steady, his hands raised, the smallest man crept towards me. That they sent the small one made me curious, but I didn't give it too much thought. Instead, I curled my fingers and motioned him forward.
Someone kicked the back of my knee. I fell to the ground with an “umph.” I realized too late that the little guy had been a distraction.
The guy behind me grabbed my arms, yanked them tight behind my back and tugged me to my feet. I struggled, but couldn't free my pinned arms from his iron grip.
“It must make you feel really good to fight four to one.” I spat.
“Everyone knows you don't fight clean, O'Neil.” Brad wiped the blood from his face. “Although without your enforcer here to cover your ass, you might as well give up.”
“You're just pissed that she can take you down.” I didn't expect Brad to move so quick, but when his right hook connected with the side of my face, I saw stars. The bastard had a strong punch. I spat blood and grinned. “That all you got?”
Again, not my best comeback of the night.
He threw a combination of right and left jabs and ended with an uppercut that sent me to my knees. The man behind me finally released my arms. They counted me out too soon.
The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. The vision in my left eye blurred and faded, the swelling forcing it closed.
I had to give them credit. They wanted bloodshed and they were getting it. I normally didn't go down easy, but my mind was more focused on Aylin than the fight. I
stayed close to the ground, waiting for the next charge; even then, my body called to her. Her touch encompassed me until I swore I could feel her soul mingle with mine. Swimming through my veins. Touching every part of my being. Impossible!
I raised my head and smiled.
As I rose to my feet, new power surged through me. It was intoxicating and reminded me so much of Aylin. I needed to find her. First, I needed to handle Brad and his posse.
“You're a tough sumabitch. I'll give you that.” Brad charged.
I was prepared this time for the smoke screens. Almost as if I had eyes in the back of my head, I sensed the man behind me reaching to grab me. I executed a swinging back fist that connected with that goon. When he stumbled backward, I turned back to Brad and completed a flying knee to his face. After landing that blow, I charged the larger man.
No mercy from me, you asshole!
I swung wide and landed a punch to the guy's temple. Built like a brick house, he never faltered. I executed three more punches, before his fist collided with my already swelling left eye. My vision blurred. I swung again, but just connected with air.
He landed another right hook. I stumbled. When he charged, I took him down with a roundhouse kick. I swayed, but there was still one more man to dispose of. I turned to the small one. The decoy.
He shook under the onslaught of my gaze. I smiled. He ran.
I could've chased him, but what was the point? I needed to get to Aylin. I spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground and looked at the viewers. “Show's over, assholes!”
“Connor man, we knew you had'em,” someone shouted.
I didn't respond. I walked back to my truck, pulled the bloodied and torn shirt over my head, wiped my face and searched through my SUV for the spare t-shirts I kept on hand.
The crowd cleared and Brad and his goons disappeared.
I'll have some explaining to do to Liam. I'm held to a higher standard than regular pack members and bar brawls aren't on his favorite list.
The fuck, though. Those men deserved it.
I shut the door to my SUV. The cold air failed to chill the heat running through my body.
“Well, well, well.” A gravelly voice behind me interrupted my thoughts.
“Listen, the show's—” I pulled the clean white shirt over my head, turned, and stared into the devil's eyes.
Gabriel looked weaker than three months ago. But the anger in his eyes told me he had never given up his pursuit of killing imprinted pairs. I would have to warn Liam and Bryn.
“I saw the show, but can't believe there's already another bonded couple.” He looked at my wrist and grinned. “Well, almost.”
I tilted my head at his statement. He raised his eyebrows at my confusion.
“Listen, just take the warning from the Table of Seven and leave. I'm really not in the mood to fight.” I felt like a record on replay. I just wanted to find Aylin.
I didn't want to discuss bonded couples with this man. I had been searching for my mate for over a decade, but hadn't found her. Yet this idiot thought there was another imprinted couple walking around. Well, he was searching up the wrong alley.
“We can't have another bond.” Gabriel moved glowing red hands in front of his body. Flames evolved into the vague outline of a sword. His hands skillfully molded the heated weapon, while he chanted words I couldn't make out. A black char circled the sword like a snake.
A tocsin blared in my head. I wanted to shout, I'm not bonded! Then I thought of Aylin's touch in the bar and how my body instantly called to her. In all the time I had known her, I had never felt such a guttural need for her. I shook my head. We were not bonded.
Gabriel hefted the hilt of the sword—the black char clinging around the sharp edges—and lunged. I tried to step back, but was halted by the side of my vehicle. The blade pierced through my stomach; the coal black strands unraveled and slid inside my body.
I clutched my stomach. Blood stained my crisp, white t-shirt. Another damn shirt ruined.
Slowly, I sank to the ground. I looked at my wrist. I didn't need to see a glowing imprint to know my heart belonged to Aylin. But black poison coursed through my body. Pain erupted like spewing lava. I screamed over and over until my world went black.
Chapter Three
Aylin
“How'd you know?” I had stayed quiet on the way to Liam and Bryn's house, but couldn't hold back any longer. I was so careful to avoid the pack, to hide my imprint. Yet within minutes of being in Bryn's presence, she had guessed. My ability to hide the imprint and my pull toward Connor was pathetic.
“Honey, sit down.” Bryn placed a hand over her belly. She would be a great mother. And a protective one.
I paced the living room. “I can't.”
I just couldn't convince myself to slow down. Every particle within me was on high alert. Tension ran through my body like a geyser ready to burst. I wasn't sure if it was the imprint, my recent outing, or my interactions with Connor.
Warning. Warning. Warning. My internal alarm bells rang and flashing red lights swarmed through my mind.
“Aylin.” Bryn placed a hand on my shoulder. Her magic swam through me. Calming, relaxing. This was the most serene I had felt in three months. “Sit down.”
“Thanks.” I laid my hand over hers and sank to the couch. “I guess I needed that.”
“You sure did.” Bryn laughed and walked toward the kitchen. “Hang on a sec.” She came back a moment later with two steaming cups of hot tea.
“So...” I prompted, and sipped the chamomile beverage she offered. Bryn's touch had diluted the nagging sensation of danger, but it crept back into my system. I rubbed the back of my neck and willed it to go away.
“Oh, the imprint.” Bryn pointed to my wrist. “Seeing your reaction to Brad's touch reminded me so much of what I felt when Mitch grabbed me in the bakery. It was my body's way of telling me, 'Nope, not him. He's not your mate.’”
I nodded. My body rejected Brad the instant he approached me. My skin had crawled. That type of reaction never happened before. He was a regular at the bar, and we often drank together.
“And the way you turned toward Connor.” Bryn sighed.
“Hold up!” I walked to the window. “Connor's not imprinted.” My voice was strong and steady, even though my body deflated at the realization that the man I wanted wasn't made for me. Connor and I could never make it work. First, he's the Beta, the second-in-command. I'm the enforcer and apparently not his other half. If we mated, one of us would have picked up on it by now.
“You sure? There's only one way to seal the deal.” Bryn grinned.
I growled.
It was just like old times. I had missed our interactions these past few months.
“I know how it works.” I pointed to Bryn and waved my hands toward her belly. “But you and Liam were imprinted to each other before you even met.”
“But our bond wasn't completed until our relationship was consummated.”
“Then why the hell am I imprinted and he isn't, if you're so sure he's my mate? I've been looking for my soul bond, but haven't found him.” I ran a shaky hand through my hair.
“Seriously, Aylin. Sit back down and we will discuss this.” Bryn patted the couch beside her. “Let's start from the beginning. How long have you been imprinted?”
I flopped down, but shook my leg. My body stirred with a strange need. A pull to get away, escape. I felt trapped and vulnerable. The latter scared the shit out of me. I wasn't used to feelings. Particularly weak ones. “The day of the accident.”
I had almost died that day. If it wasn't for Bryn and her healing power, I would have.
“Shit, Aylin.” She slapped my shoulder. “That was months ago.”
“I know.” It was the day my entire life changed. I was once cool, collected. Now, I was finicky, always on edge. Life was cruel.
“How are you even functioning?” Bryn flushed. “Dealing with the hyperactive sexual pull?”
I rubbed my hand
over my wrist. The imprint pulsated, shooting spurts of fire through my body. For the first time, I felt the pull of something. Someone. It was distracting.
“It's different for me.” I tried to piece together the jumble of my life over the last few months. “I crave something. Someone. It's a primal need. A longing. But not like I'm connected to anyone. More like a piece of me, or the bond, is missing. And my pull is trying to find that piece.”
“But not now?” Bryn asked.
Observant little bitch.
“No.”
“It's Connor.” Bryn raised her eyebrows and leaned forward. Placing a hand on my shoulder, she tried to seek answers. See what was happening to me with her ability, but she jolted backwards, shocked by the disturbances within me.
A crack, a break in my barrier, ripped open. A presence invaded my body and swam into my soul. Thankful to be seated, I sank back into the couch and closed my eyes. The sensation overwhelmed me. Frightened me. My heart rate pounded like the rapid beating drum. It was draining.
“I... don't... know.” I forced the words from my lips as piercing pain shot through my abdomen, just below my ribcage. I bit back a cry and clutched my side. Trying hard not to pass out, I called all the positive energy I could muster into my soul.
Connor! I tried to reach out to him. To protect him. But from what?
“Where's Connor?” My voice was harsh, raspy.
“He should be coming. I'm surprised he hasn't barged through the door yet.”
A jab to my heart. My barriers crashed. Pain enveloped me. Fear consumed me. Connor's presence wrapped around me. Sank into me. But his warmth was fading with every second. “Something's wrong.”
“Honey, I think you just need to lie down. You've been fighting the imprint for longer than you should've been.” Bryn spoke softly, but didn't try to heal me. Her hands lay awkwardly in her lap.
“No, it's more than that. I can feel him. I sense his pain.”
I called to Connor again, trying to connect to him on a level that didn't exist yet. Bryn and Liam could speak and call each other. Connor and I couldn't. If he wasn't my mate, we never would. Right now, I needed him. Even if it was just for my peace of mind. My comfort. I wanted him to swagger through that door and make some smart-ass comment, but I knew he wouldn't.
The Half Moon: Soulbond Series Book 2 Page 2
