by J. D. Tyler
“Oh, there you are. Need some help with that cut?”
“I’ve got her,” Micah answered before she could open her mouth.
Jack hesitated. “When you’re fixed up, fill out a workman’s comp form and go home. It’s slowing down now, so we’re good.” Then with a smirk, he turned back inside and shut the door.
In the restroom, Micah fished under the sink and brought out the plastic container with the supplies. While he worked, she admired the way his muscles moved under his T-shirt and snug jeans. How his brown hair fell around his face and to his shoulders. Damn, she had it bad.
He proved to be a gentle caregiver, dabbing alcohol on the wound to clean it, then dressing it with a square bandage and some medical tape.
“Thank you,” Jacee said.
“You’re welcome. I’ll walk you out.”
The man was patient, waiting while she gathered her purse from the office, quickly filled out the form, and told Jack good-bye. He was so solicitous of her as well, placing a broad hand on her back as they left and shielding her from his Pack’s stares with his body until they were outside.
“Which car is yours?” he asked.
“Over there.” She pointed to a silver Chevy pickup that had seen better days.
“Nice truck.”
She shrugged. “It’s fifteen years old, but it gets me around, on a good day.”
“I’m a motorcycle guy myself.”
“Yeah?” He pointed to a black Harley parked on the side of the building, a few yards away. “Nice.”
“It gets me around.”
He grinned at her, and she couldn’t help but grin back. There was something about the man that called to her. It was more than the years of loneliness, of mourning her lost family, of yearning for the touch of another. It was the possibility of a man who might be hers to keep. What would that be like?
Their boots crunched on the asphalt as he walked her to the truck. At the driver’s door, she turned to face him—and found herself gently pushed against the side of the vehicle with one of his hands braced on the roof above her head. His front was flush with hers, his body heat branding her like an iron.
Slowly, he lowered his head, giving her time to protest the kiss he was about to take. In answer, she wrapped her fingers in the soft hair at the back of his head and pulled his head the rest of the way down.
Explosive. That was his taste on her tongue, assaulting her senses. Hardening her nipples and making her sex ache. She couldn’t have stopped her reaction to him any more than she could have halted a tidal wave, and she didn’t want to. Her coyote growled in pleasure. Now she’d know his essence, his scent, anywhere. She knew what he was to her.
But she wouldn’t use that name for him. It was too soon.
After exploring her mouth for several moments, he pulled back and stared down at her, expression warm. “You taste so damn fine.”
“You’re pretty yummy yourself.”
He sighed. “You are so getting the short end of the stick with me—”
“No. Stop right there.” She glared at him. “If this is about your scars, save it. I don’t care about those, except I hate that you had to get hurt. They don’t make you any less attractive to me.”
“Thanks,” he said, sounding sincere. Reaching up to her face, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “But I wasn’t really talking about the scars. I’ve got baggage, Jacee. Loads of it.”
“So do I. But we’ll get to know each other and share the burden, right?”
Again with the sadness. She didn’t like the look on him. “Right.”
“I’m off tomorrow night,” she told him, “in case you wanted to know.”
That cheered him considerably. “I did, in fact. Can I get your contact info in my phone?”
“Sure.”
He pulled out his cell, opened up his contacts page, and gave her the device. She typed in her first and last names, number, and address, then handed back the phone.
“There you go,” she said, getting out her phone.
“Jacee Buchanan. I like your name.”
“Good, ’cause it’s the only one I’ve got.” She winked. “What’s your last name?”
“Chase.”
“I like yours, too. Now call me.”
He did, and she added his name to his number.
“Can I pick you up tomorrow afternoon, take you to dinner?” Micah asked.
Suddenly he looked a little unsure and so sweet she kissed him again. Slowly. “Yes. A bit old-fashioned, are you?”
“Some, when it comes to treating a lady. Is that okay?”
“More than. What time?”
“Pick you up at six?”
“On that Harley?” She eyed it with some doubt.
He laughed. “No. I was going to drive my car, unless you want to ride the motorcycle to dinner.”
“Well, maybe not this first time.”
“That’s what I thought. See you at six.”
“Awesome.”
Several leisurely kisses later, he let her go and strolled to the bike. She watched his ass sway in his jeans until he straddled the machine and started it with a throaty roar. Then she got into the truck and fired it up, wincing at the cough it gave as she followed Micah from the parking lot.
He turned left to head out of town, and she turned right to go home to her modest house in Cody. For the first time in many years, the idea of going home alone wasn’t quite as terrible as before. She had a date with a sexy wolf.
And she planned to make the most of it.
* * *
Jacee tossed and turned, trying to sleep.
After one in the morning, and not much success on that front. She was exhausted after the drama on her shift, meeting Micah. Making that special discovery about him. It was too much, and it swirled around in her brain until she finally gave in.
Her dream started out innocently enough.
She was running through the Shoshone in coyote form, one of her favorite activities. The only thing she would’ve loved more would have been sharing the run with one of her Pack. Someone she loved. Cared for. Anyone. Running alone was a lonely feeling, but she tried to concentrate on the joy of being alive. Of feeling the earth under her paws and the wind in her face.
As she ran, she came to a stream and paused to drink. In the water, another image joined hers, and when she jerked up her head, there stood a gorgeous brown wolf. His coat was full and shiny, his chest broad, legs long. The only interruption to his beauty was the scarring visible on one side of his face.
Even in her dream, she knew this wolf—Micah.
She yipped at him happily and took off. With a resounding bark, he ran after her. He chased her through brush, over logs, across a meadow. She was pretty certain he could’ve caught her anytime, but the fun was in their togetherness, not who won.
Finally he did catch up, and pounced. He sent them rolling across the grass and leaves, nipping playfully, pinning her underneath his bulk. At no time did she feel threatened. Instead, just incredibly filled with joy, as she hadn’t been in ages. Their play was a balm to her soul.
And then it changed.
Over her, the wolf stilled. His body rippled and lengthened, and seamlessly he changed to his half-form. He was a more powerful version of Micah, with fangs and claws, fur covering his chest, arms, torso, and legs. And his cock and balls, too.
Arousal swamped her, and she changed as well with a thought. While stronger than her human form, her half-form was much smaller than his. She reveled in his power as he spread her legs, reached between them to rub her sex. He parted her folds, dipping his fingers inside to fuck her with them, and she whimpered, raising her hips to encourage him.
He’d stop if she wanted. No question. She felt safe with him, and so she didn’t want him to end things. Spreading her legs wider, she pulled his head down, loving his chuckle as he fastened his mouth to her and started to lick. God, that preternaturally long tongue was magic, stroking her core and dr
iving her wild. He laved and sucked her clit until she thought she’d go mad.
And then she exploded into a thousand shards of light, calling his name.
Jacee awakened with a start, heart pounding. Sex throbbing in the aftermath of a powerful orgasm. Wait. She’d only dreamed that, right?
Looking down at herself, she saw that she was flat on her back, naked. Her legs were spread and her sex was wet. Just as though Micah really had been there, pleasuring her with his mouth. But that wasn’t possible. She was alone.
It was a hell of a long time before sleep claimed her again.
This time, she didn’t dream.
Three
Micah felt like a complete shit.
Last night had gone so well. He’d been drawn to Jacee for weeks now and hadn’t known why—until she’d gotten close and his wolf had scented the delicious aroma of cherries and almonds. He’d begun to suspect. And then he’d gotten a taste of her when they’d kissed, and his wolf knew.
Jacee was his mate.
The idea was stunning. Frightening and exciting. Could a broken man like him actually have something to offer a mate? Surely she was getting ripped off. Bondmates had no say in the matter, because biology ensured that once they met, they would either mate—or sicken and die without each other. Some choice for Jacee.
And then he’d totally invaded her privacy after they’d gone home for the evening. He’d already ruined things by using his ability as a Dreamwalker to take advantage of her. She no doubt thought her sexy dream was just that—a dream. His conscience, however, wouldn’t allow her to go on believing a lie. Not a good way to start a real relationship. If that’s in fact what he hoped to have, biology or not.
Picking up the bottle from his dresser, he shook out two pills and downed them with a day-old bottle of water. On second thought, he shook out two more, swallowed those as well, and braced his hands on the edge of the dresser, trying to calm the building chaos in his brain before it got too bad. Gradually, he began to relax.
But there was the nosebleed and the headache to deal with before he could venture from his quarters.
Half an hour later, feeling almost like himself, he left his apartment and ventured into the hallway. Not even the slightest bit hungry, he decided to head for the hangar and tinker with his motorcycle for a while. It had been idling a little rough lately, so maybe—
Someone slammed into his shoulder, hard. Inside, his wolf leapt into attack mode.
Moving fast, he grabbed the body and threw it against the wall. Distantly, he heard a frightened cry as he pinned the man with one arm and extended his claws on the other hand. His fangs lengthened as he buried his fingers in his captive’s hair, yanked back his head to expose his throat—
“Micah! What the fuck?”
Enemy. End him.
“Let him go!”
Someone hit him from the side, knocking him away from his prey, and they went down in a tangle of limbs. The enemy on top of him was bigger, stronger. He needed to get free. Or shift. Yes, his wolf could defeat the man who was fighting him.
“Micah, get ahold of yourself!” A blow to the side of his head sent his brain reeling, scattering his thoughts.
The red haze of anger lifted, and his wolf retreated. The sight that greeted him at first filled him with confusion. Then horror.
Noah was leaning against the wall, breathing hard, eyes wide as he stared at Micah. The shirt of his blue nurse’s scrubs was torn, dots of red bleeding through the fabric where Micah had scratched him.
“Oh, my God. Noah, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, um, it’s okay.” Noah tried a shaky smile. “Guess I need to watch where I’m going.”
“No,” John said, climbing off Micah to scowl down at him. “It’s not okay. You attacked a staff member without cause or provocation. You lost control.”
Which was the precise moment Phoenix walked up, and Nick was with him. Awesome.
“What?” Nix said, taking in the scene.
Micah pushed to his feet. “Look, I said I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Nick’s expression was like a gathering storm getting ready to unleash. “What won’t happen? Did you actually attack Noah?”
“Yes, but he ran into me,” he tried to explain. “Or we ran into each other, and my wolf thought—”
“My office. Now.”
Fucking shit. Nodding, Micah could only watch miserably as the commander stalked off in the direction of his office, John following. Turning, he started to apologize to Noah again. But before he could take a step, Nix got between them, getting right in his face.
“Touch him again, ever, and I’ll kill you. Brother or not,” he said quietly. He was dead serious.
“I said I was sorry, and I am.”
“Get yourself together, Micah. We all see how you’re suffering, but you’re a time bomb ready to go off, and we don’t know what to do.”
“I’m dealing with my issues the best I know how.” he paused, anger rising again. “What about you? How are you dealing with yours? That mating thing coming along just peachy?”
“That’s not any of your goddamn business,” Nix growled.
“Nope, but looks like you’d better make it yours. Sooner rather than later.” He jerked his chin to where Noah was disappearing down the hallway.
Nix cursed and took off after Noah.
Micah stood in the hallway for a moment, collecting himself. He’d fucked up. Bad. He’d apologize to Noah again, later, without an audience, and make sure the man knew he was sincere. First, he had to appease his boss.
When he reached the office, he knocked once before slipping inside. Nick was sitting behind his desk, papers in hand. Setting them down, expression hard, he gestured for Micah to sit. Nerves assailed Micah but he schooled himself to appear calm in the face of the commander’s quiet anger.
“What the actual fuck was that out there? You lost control and attacked Noah in the middle of the hallway. Noah, who’s half your size and wouldn’t hurt a fly.” His jaw clenched and his blue eyes were like steel. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know. I was walking along, and I was deep in thought, so when he ran into me I guess I just reacted.”
“Snapped.”
It sounded terrible, put like that. “I don’t think I really would’ve hurt him.”
“We don’t know that because John stopped you before you could do any harm.” His frown deepened. “Is Mac still counseling you?”
Dr. Mackenzie Grant worked in Sanctuary, with Dr. Melina Mallory, Noah, and the others. She was also Kalen’s mate, and the daughter of General Jarrod Grant. In short, a woman not to be fucked with.
“Some. I’m seeing her this afternoon.”
“Good. You’ll tell her about this incident or I will. If Noah hasn’t already, that is.”
“Yes, sir.”
“The pills. How many are you taking?”
He should’ve expected the question, but it still caught him off guard. “Mac prescribed one in the morning and one at night.”
“No. How many are you actually taking? Don’t even think of lying to me.”
“I . . .” Micah scoured his brain for an excuse, but came up with nothing. Except the truth. “Ten or twelve a day,” he said with shame. “The doses don’t seem to last as long as when I first started taking them.”
“Have you discussed this with Mac?”
“No.”
“Do that today also. Have her change the dosage, or the meds, or whatever she decides, but do not keep her in the dark about what’s going on. Same goes for me. If you’re having problems, you come to me and Mac. We depend on you, and so does your team. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
Nick’s expression softened some. “I’m only coming down on you because I care, dammit. Do you remember the vision I told you about a few weeks ago?”
“How could I forget?” he muttered.
Nick leaned forward. “It’s going to come to pass if you
keep this up. You’re going to die. I know Jacee is your mate, and you’ll leave her alone and grieving. I don’t know how else to impress on you how serious I am.”
A shudder snaked through Micah. He knew better than to question a Seer as powerful as Nick. But he couldn’t help asking, “What makes you so sure there’s any way to change my fate, anyhow?”
“Is that why you’re being so reckless with your health? You can’t change your future, so fuck it? Because if I caused that by telling you—”
“No! You didn’t. I swear that’s not the way I feel. I’m just asking, honest.”
The commander relaxed some, sitting back in his chair. “I know ‘anything is possible’ sounds trite, but it’s true. I’ll tell you something I told Jax once. The decisions people make are like pinballs, sending each outcome in a new direction. Every decision you make affects something or someone else in a thousand different ways. Even yourself. If you know something you’re doing is self-destructive, it’s not too late to change.”
“Until it is too late.”
“Exactly.” The meeting obviously concluded, Nick stood. “I’ll get a full report from Mac after your session.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Remember, we’re here to help you. Call on me anytime, and I know the same goes for any of the Pack.”
“I’ll remember.”
After shaking Nick’s hand, Micah left and went to the hangar, where he killed a couple of hours tuning his motorcycle, lost in troubled thought. Inevitably, his mind went to Jacee. What the hell was he thinking, pursuing her when his personal life was such a clusterfuck? He should call and cancel their date.
At the idea, his wolf howled in protest and his guts churned. As soon as his shifter counterpart had scented and recognized her, ignoring her wasn’t even an option. Not that he really wanted to, but his crap was the last thing she needed in her life.
Which means you need to clean it up, fool.
The first step to doing that was to speak honestly with Mac. With a sigh, he wiped his hands on the grease rag and tossed it next to his bike. Then he headed for Sanctuary.
