by P. Jameson
He was quiet, stirring his eggs and chewing on a piece of bacon.
“And Alaska? You have family there? Is that why you want to move back?” His voice was stilted, like he was trying to seem casual but not pulling it off.
Kerrigan peered at him. He was a mystery. From the beginning, she hadn’t been able to get a good read on him. He seemed to care too much, when he had no reason to. He was different than he seemed, than she had expected. Attentive, instead of careless. Rational, instead of fly-off-the-cuff. He surprised her at every turn.
“My dad and sister. It’s where I grew up.”
He nodded.
“What about you? Where do you call home? Joplin?”
He stared at his plate. “Sort of. It’s a good thing you asked though. Finish eating. I want to show you something.”
“What is it?”
He smirked, looking up at her through his lashes. “Finish eating.”
“Oh, fine.”
Kerrigan ate her breakfast in record time, and Trager cleaned up while she dressed.
It wasn’t until they were in his hunk-a-junk SUV that she asked him again. “So, where are we going?”
He reached across the console and grabbed her hand, lifting it to his mouth. “I want to show you my home.”
A smile spread her cheeks. “Really?”
He nodded.
“Where do you live?”
“Out of town a ways. In the mountains. That okay?”
Kerrigan snorted. “Yeah. I have no commitments now. I’m free.”
The mountains. Honestly, she missed mountain life sometimes. The crisp, clean air. The sweet tang of the evergreens. The seclusion. Where time seemed to stand still while you lived your life. It was nice.
They’d been driving for about thirty minutes when Trager pulled onto a dirt road that cut into the forest.
Rocks and ruts made it a bumpy ride. Kerrigan was knocked sideways once banging her head on the window.
Geez. No wonder his vehicle was a mess. And no wonder he liked his motorcycle.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, fine.”
“We’re almost there.”
Ten more minutes and Trager parked the truck along the road and turned off the ignition.
“Here we are.”
Kerrigan looked around. There was nothing. Just the thick foliage on either side of the road. “Where? I don’t see anything.”
“Well, we have to walk a little ways. Right through there,” he said, pointing to a spot in the trees.
A hint of trepidation pecked at Kerrigan. Nobody knew she was out here with him. What if… what if this was something else?
Trager got out and walked around to her side. She checked her phone. A quick message to Braeh, so someone at least knew where she was. But no, she had zero cell service.
He opened her door with a smile, but instantly, his face drew up. “What is it?” he asked.
“Nothing.”
“You’re afraid.”
How did he know that? Was her face that transparent?
“No, I’m not.”
“I can smell it,” he spat. “What are you afraid of?” He scanned the woods, apparently looking for a threat.
What he’d said caught her attention. “Smell it?”
His eyes focused on her, his hand cradling her cheek. “What is it that has you scared?”
Oh, this was silly. “Nothing. I’m not scared. It’s just… remember what I said about creepers? A girl can never be too safe.”
His face fell so fast and hard, it was like watching lightning strike. “You’re afraid of me? I could never hurt you. Don’t you know that?”
No. She didn’t. She’d been with a man that claimed to love her for three years and yet, he hurt her repeatedly. She’d known Trager a week.
But she believed he was different. She knew that much.
He stepped away from her, staring at the ground. “I’ll take you back if you want. Just say the word.”
Kerrigan climbed out of the truck, and shut the door. She’d trusted him with her body, she might as well trust him now.
He glanced at her, his eyes troubled.
“I have trust issues,” she blurted. Damn it. But maybe he could understand.
Brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, he sighed. “Do you want to go back?” His voice was soft.
She shook her head. “No. I want to see your place.”
He nodded. Kissed her forehead. “We’ll talk about your trust issues when we get there.”
***
A ten minute trek through the woods brought them to a quaint little log cabin. A door and a large double window took up most of the front, and a small stone chimney rose from the roof.
“Here we are,” Trager said, opening the door for her to walk through.
Inside, the décor was minimal. A coffee-colored leather couch and matching chair took up the area designated as the living room. A short counter separated the open room and the kitchen.
“Feel free to look around,” Trager said. “I’m going to take a shower.” With that, he was gone.
Kerrigan rummaged around the kitchen, locating the coffee supplies, and started a pot. Then she acquainted herself with the rest of the place. There were exactly four rooms if you counted the kitchen and living room as two, and not one giant room. The bathroom was occupied, but Trager’s bedroom was free.
Kerrigan ducked inside. A king-sized bed with red plaid flannel sheets. She grinned. Exactly what she expected to see in a log cabin. His room was very manly. It smelled like leather and pine. She loved it.
Turning to leave, she stopped short. Trager, in only a towel, powerful chest glistening from his shower.
“Oh. Hi.”
His eyes burned. “Do you like the bed?”
She pressed her lips together. “Don’t know. Haven’t tried it out yet.”
What he’d done to her last night set off a firestorm in her. She wanted to lick those drops of water from his chest. Instead, she ran a hand across the planes.
“I like you touching me,” he said, huskily. He crowded her against the wall. “I like it very much.”
She pressed her palms flat against his hard muscles.
“But we have things we need to talk about, dream-girl. Time to set things straight.” His voice was gentle. How he could be so full of power that it seemed to take up all the air in the room, and yet so tender at the same time… it baffled her.
She nodded. “Yes. You’re right. I’ll wait in the living room.” Slipping past him, she was almost to the door when he smacked her on the ass.
She yelped and turned to find his sexy smirk.
“Been wanting to do that for awhile,” he murmured.
She narrowed her gaze, but as soon as she left the room, her face split in a wide grin.
Chapter Eleven
He was going to do it. He was going to lay all his cards on the table. Tell her everything. He’d considered all his options in the shower, and this was the only thing that had any hope of working. He was running out of time with the Ravendale threat. He was running out of time before his mate left for Alaska. Fucking time was not on his side. But besides that, Kerrigan deserved to know how he felt about her. Even if she didn’t feel the same about him.
He’d just gotten his jeans buttoned when Kerrigan’s startled scream blasted through the house. For a millisecond, his heart stopped, gripped in fear-gnarled claws. But then he busted through the door and into the living room. Part of him expected to find a tarantula or something of that sort. What he did not expect to find, and what made his blood boil to a rolling rage, was a wolf.
Huge, with multi-colored fur, the animal stood just inside the door of the cabin, snarling at Kerrigan.
Black flickered at Trager’s vision. A wolf threatened his mate. A wolf he would tear to tiny shreds.
“Kerrigan, step back.” His voice shook with rage. “Go into the bedroom, and don’t come out no matter what you hear.”
“Trager?”
His words were warbling, almost unrecognizable. “Now, Kerri. Go.”
He didn’t look to see if she went. There was no way he could contain his wolf any longer. His mate was in danger, and wolf would respond.
With a ferocious growl, his animal sprang forth, lunging at the multi-colored wolf, and rolling with him out the door. Jaws snapped and claws sliced through fur. Trager felt the pain of his wounds but couldn’t find the will to care. He would annihilate this wolf if it was the last fucking thing he did. His teeth clamped on the bastard’s ear and he pulled. A sharp yelp split the air and Trager gloried in the sound.
More growling. More snarling and yelping. Blood spattered the grass, and coated both animals’ fur.
From out of nowhere, Trager felt the vice of his opponent’s jaw clamped around his neck. It froze him. If he moved he’d die. If he died, he couldn’t protect his mate.
Wait… wait… the fucker will ease up, and I’ll kill him. Patience.
But he didn’t. The two wolves stayed locked like that for what seemed like eternity. The growls subsided, but Trager’s rage was intact. He inhaled, hoping to appear calmer to his enemy, but that was when Trager smelled the familiar scent. He knew the wolf.
Farrow.
That motherfucking, shit-eating, son-of-a-bitch traitor.
Farrow growled low, as if in warning.
After another few seconds, he changed form, becoming human, and jumped on top of Trager, smashing his snarling nose into the dirt. “Stop it, asshole. You’re hurt. Shift back.”
Trager couldn’t change if he wanted to. And he definitely didn’t want to. His wolf was in control until Farrow was dead.
Farrow. Dead.
Something about that didn’t sit right with Trager.
He tried to breath but all he got was a lungful of gritty dirt.
“Shift back. Now. So we can talk. It’s about Gabby.”
Gabby. Gabby. His sister. Farrow wanted to talk about his sister.
Trager warred with his desire to know what the wolf had to say about his sister, and his desire to kill him for threatening Kerrigan. He decided he could kill him later.
It took his wolf several minutes to calm down enough to change, and still he resisted. Which meant Trager must be hurt worse than he’d thought.
Shifting to his human form, he hacked up blood, spitting in into the dirt while Farrow rolled off him.
“How did you find this place?” Trager always took precautions to mask his scent anytime he’d met with Farrow in the past.
Farrow laughed, and it sounded like the gurgling of a creek over rocks. “I’ve known where you lived for a while now.”
“How dare you,” he spat. “How dare you come to my land, and threaten my mate. You fucking bastard. I’ll kill you for it.”
Trager rolled to his back, but the motion only made him aware of the blood oozing from a gash in his side.
“You idiot,” Farrow muttered, breathing heavily. “I wasn’t threatening her, I just couldn’t change. I was trying to calm her down.”
“Why couldn’t you change?”
“Think about it, Tra. I smelled her. Knew who she was right away. A naked wolf, in your house, that close to your mate… you would’ve killed me without blinking. It’s what I would’ve done if someone had gotten that close to Gabby in my space.”
Trager blinked at the blue sky. Four times, before Farrow’s words sank in.
“Gabby?”
“Yes,” Farrow snapped. “That’s why I’m here.”
“My sister?” Trager felt the rage rise again, like water filling a bathtub.
“She’s mine, Trager. Now cut the shit.”
Trager attempted to sit up, but his side revolted. The gash was deep. “You mated my sister?”
“Yes! Now get over it. We have bigger problems, and I’m running out of time.” Farrow managed to sit up. “You need help. I’m going to get your mate.”
“Stay away from her,” Trager growled.
“Don’t be an asshole, Tra. Your wolf needs her.”
He was gone before Trager could stop him. He laid there, waiting, breathing shallow.
A loud bang came from the house, followed by Farrow cursing, and then Kerrigan bounded down the porch steps. She stopped short when she saw Trager, naked and bleeding on the ground.
“Oh my god, Trager!” she cried. Her hands flew to her mouth. Tears streaked down her face.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He felt her panic as if it was his own. Needed to calm her down.
She dropped to her knees beside him. “It’s bad. You need a hospital. We need to call an ambulance. You’re losing too much blood. You… you… I can’t do this again. You have to live.”
“Baby, listen. I will heal. I just need to get inside. Where’s Farrow?”
She shook her head. “Farrow?”
“The man… in the house.”
“I… I hit him. He’s down.”
“You hit him? With what?”
“A skillet,” she screeched. “What does it matter?”
Fuck. A skillet. Cast iron, he’d bet. It kind of made him proud.
“Okay. Okay, baby. Calm down. Come here.”
She leaned over him, her tears falling on his battered chest.
“I need you to touch me.”
“Wh-where? There’s so much blood…” Her voice dropped out.
“Face.”
She laid her shaking hand on his cheek.
“Yes, that’s perfect.”
Already, his wolf was healing his body. But the touch of his mate amplified the process. Wolf was only half. Mate completed him. Together. The magic was in their togetherness.
More proof that he needed her, that his life would be shit without her.
“More,” he pleaded.
She used both hands now, rubbing his cheeks with her thumbs. Petting his hair. Her forehead pressed against his. “What is happening?” she whispered.
“Don’t stop.”
She kissed his lips, carefully. Gently. Over and over, while he focused on breathing. He felt his wounds patching, healing, pulling together. Ripped blood vessels mending.
Kerrigan gasped. “Trager. You’re skin. It’s… it’s…”
“I know.”
“What is this?” Her voice was the strangest mixture of happy and terrified.
“I have so much to explain. I promise, I’ll tell you everything.” In another few minutes he’d be able to stand. Then he’d see to Farrow, and set everything straight with his mate.
***
Kerrigan stared at the faux granite countertop in Trager’s kitchen. She counted the black spots in an area about the size of her fist. There was a hundred and nine, but she wasn’t sure if she’d counted them all, so that number probably wasn’t accurate.
Trager and his… whatever… were arguing, and although she knew what they were arguing about, all her brain heard was blah, blah, blah, mate, blah.
This was the twilight zone. Had to be. None of this was real. Not the people who shifted into animals, not the threat to the pack, not her responsibility to help them—as Farrow had put it—and most certainly not Trager.
A fist came down hard on the counter. “This is ridiculous. All you have to do is come with Trager to the camp, so he can talk to the alpha. One night. That’s all it would take, and then we can take it from there.”
“Leave her alone, Farrow.” Trager’s voice was lethal.
“It’s the only way they’ll take the threat seriously, Tra. You know that. And now that my mate—your sister, might I remind you—could be in danger, I’m not willing to wait any longer. Her safety is all I care about.” Farrow flung his arm in her direction. “She needs to grow a spine.”
“I swear,” Trager snarled, “if you don’t back down, I’m going to rip you to shreds. Again.”
Farrow bent over the counter, pushing into Kerrigan’s space bubble. Her gaze broke from the counter to glare at him. “Is it
really that much of a sacrifice, pretending to be his mate for a night? Just help us warn the alpha, and then you can leave, okay? I know you don’t want him, but—“
The growl that cut him off was purely animalistic. There was no human sound to it. Before she had a chance to react, Farrow was jerked backwards by his neck. Trager threw a punch to his face so quickly, it was like watching a movie on fast forward. Then another, and another.
No. This was ridiculous.
“Trager, stop.”
He didn’t listen.
“Stop!” she screamed.
He jerked to a halt, Farrow stumbling backwards.
“I’ll go. I’ll do it. Just stop.”
Trager’s bare chest heaved with ragged breaths. He turned back to Farrow, yanking him by the hair, toward the door. “Never, ever come back here. I’ll kill you if you do, and being my sister’s mate won’t save you.” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Mate comes before sister. Always. Remember that.”
With that, he shoved him out the door, and slammed it. The silence after the rattle of the walls, was deafening. Trager stood stock still, head down, fists clenched.
She waited. Waited for him to say something. To make this easier to accept. To explain himself. To soothe her fears—fears that she only just realized she had. But he did none of that. Instead, he stalked to his bedroom and slammed that door too.
Wonderful.
Kerrigan opened the fridge and found there was no wine. Only beer. What better time than now, to start drinking. She grabbed a bottle, and just to make sure she fit in, she slammed the refrigerator door when she was finished.
She sank down on the leather couch and reached for the wool blanket that lay over the back. Trager could have at least started a fire. The jerk.
Tucking the blanket around her legs, she stared at the bottle in her hands. How was she supposed to open it? She twisted the cap, and realized quickly what a mistake that was. Ouch. She used the blanket as a buffer and twisted again. Nope. Glaring at it didn’t help either. Clearly, she needed a bottle opener, but she wasn’t getting back up to find one. Frustrated, she tossed the beer to the other end of the couch, where it landed upside down.
