Wild Blood: The Trueborn Saga Book 1
Page 11
When every threat has been chased away the silver eyes fix on me yet again, then brighten as they come toward me through the darkness. Unexpected excitement pulses giddily inside me as they come closer and closer, rising up from the ground as they approach. I'm looking upward to meet them when they stop mere feet in front of me. When the dark fog clears it's not the massive dark-gray wolf I expected, but a tall muscular man with dark hair and a gorgeous face. Emmett. Silver eyes fade back to a familiar icy-blue that swims with pain and heartache.
"Please..." he says in a pain-filled rasp as his face twists in a familiar agony that breaks my heart. "You're my mate, Raven." He reaches out to me with his palm up, his face pleading. "I love you, and you love me."
Now I'm afraid, terrified, and I vigorously shake my head and jerk back a step as I blurt out, "No. That's not right. I don't even know you."
"You know me, Raven," he whispers as he steps closer, his scent wild and earthy and so intoxicatingly masculine. "You can feel it. My pain is your pain. My joy is your joy. We were meant to be together." He moves even closer, his lips next to my ear as his body heat seeps into mine. "You can't escape it." I feel his emotions battering at me, his pain, his despair, his...love, and I'm completely overwhelmed.
"No!" I scream as I stagger away from him. "This is a trick. I...I won't let you trap me!"
"How can love be a trap?" His gruff voice echoes all around me. "How can love do anything but set you free?"
"No!" I scream again. "This isn't real!"
"Like werewolves aren't real?" Emmett asks, his silver eyes blazing to life again even as his form starts to disappear into the darkness.
The red eyes reappear again and the sound of snapping slavering jaws grows louder in the thickening black fog. They move closer as the silver eyes retreat and finally disappear. Closer and closer the red eyes draw until they're all around me now, surrounding me, trapping me. Hot breath skitters across my skin and I shiver in terror. Then I feel the sharp bite of teeth and claws in my fragile skin, and jerk awake with a gasp.
"I'm so sorry, baby girl," Dad's calming voice says. "I didn't mean to scare you."
I blink away the remnants of my nightmare and manage to focus on my father's apologetic face hovering above me. He's sitting on the edge of my bed in the faint light of early morning with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
A second later, the mattress bounces as Luna leaps up onto the bed and rushes me with an excited whine. She goes to town licking my face and neck with eagerness. Then she abruptly lets out a loud burp in my face that's followed by a horrid disgusting stench.
"Ew!" I screech as I push her away and pull the edge of the sheet over my mouth and nose.
"Oh, by the way," Dad tells me with a deep chuckle. "I just fed Luna her breakfast."
"Gee, thanks," I say wryly with a glower that only earns me a wide grin.
"I just wanted to see your beautiful face before I hit the sack," Dad says as his grin softens.
He does this every morning when he gets home from work. I know what he's really doing, letting me know that he made it home safe. Dad is very much aware of how much I worry about him when he's on the job. He's all the family I have.
There's no mistaking the weariness in his demeanor. As the newest officer on the tiny Wolcott police force, Dad gets the graveyard shift. It's not his first choice or ideal, but I'm hopeful that over time he can get off of it since I can tell it's wearing on him already.
He studies my face for a moment and frowns. "Are you okay, baby girl?"
"Yeah," I lie as I try to shake off the afterimages of red eyes still floating around in my head. It was one of the worst nightmares I've had over the last four nights, and I imagine I look almost as tired as he feels. "Just had a bad dream."
"About me?" he prompts with furrowed brows. I used to have nightmares about him getting hurt or killed on the job, but I haven't had one in years.
"No, just stupid senseless stuff," I lie again with an internal cringe of guilt as I absently stroke Luna's soft fur.
I haven't lied to Dad like this in years either, but what am I supposed to do? It's not like I could tell him the truth about my disastrous and terrifying date with Emmett last Saturday. All I told Dad was a vague "it didn't go well" the next morning, exhausted from staying up most of the night listening to the police radio. I kept waiting for them to mention the two ripped up bodies that Emmett left behind. I never heard a thing about it then or since from Dad, the Internet, or the local paper, and I'm relieved even if it's odd.
"Why don't you go back to sleep for a while," Dad suggests. "And tonight I'll make your favorite dinner. Okay?"
"Okay," I reply with a small smile.
He nods as he stands, then leans down to kiss the top of my head. "I love you, baby girl."
"Love you too, Dad," I say.
He straightens, then turns and quietly leaves my tiny room. I hear him move down the hallway to his bedroom and close the door with a click. Then I sigh and flop back onto the mattress, knowing there's going to be no more sleep for me today. I'm too worked up by that nightmare and the whirling thoughts in my head.
I remember the insane and unimaginable things I saw Saturday night. I wouldn't believe any of it if I hadn't witnessed it myself. I think of everything Emmett told me Saturday night like I'd been obsessively doing since then. I shudder at the thought of what those horrid demonborn wanted to do to me. I shudder again when I think about the more subtle way Emmett tried to seduce me into something equally sick and sinister.
I ignore the memory of his hurt and sincere seeming words, and the devastated expression he wore before I sent him away. He sounded like a crazy person when he called me his mate and said he loved me. There's no way in hell anyone could fall in love in a day. No fucking way. And especially with someone who isn't even human. I ignore the fact that according to him, I may not be one hundred percent human myself.
I try to ignore the pang of heartache that grips my chest and the lost bereft feeling that falls over me again at thoughts of Emmett. It isn't real, even though it feels that way. I don't feel anything for him. It's just an aftereffect of his skillful manipulation of my emotions, and nothing more. Anything else is impossible, and with time, it will go away, even if I haven't managed to get him out of my head for four days. I almost wonder if it's some supernatural werewolf mojo he worked on me, which is yet another terrifying thought.
When I'm not having nightmares about glowing red eyes and spurting blood, I have crazy graphic sex dreams about Emmett that have me waking up moaning with soaked panties. What is wrong with me? I grumble under my breath, disgusted with myself, and throw the blankets over my head. I'm going to wrap myself up in a cocoon of denial, and go back to sleep, damn it.
Then my phone rings, and I let out a long beleaguered groan, pretty sure I know who's calling me. I throw my blankets off and sit up, then snatch my phone off the nightstand, ready to send Chavez straight to voice mail again. He's been calling and leaving pleading messages for me to come back to work at Rowdy's Tavern for several days now. I just haven't wanted to deal with it. I'm definitely in no frame of mind to make any decisions about a job right now.
I freeze when I see Dr. Cadie's name on the screen instead. My first instinct is to reject it since she's Emmett's mother, but she saved my Luna. She was so kind to me that guilt drives me to answer it before I can second-guess the decision.
"Hello?" I say with a wary edge.
"Raven, sweetie," her calm friendly voice says over the line. "I'm so sorry to bother you this early, but I have a full day at the clinic and wanted to check in on Luna while I had a chance."
I look at my dog and can't help but grin. She's currently snoozing spread eagle on her back next to me with her head on the other pillow like she's a person.
"She's doing great," I answer. "She's back to her normal crazy self."
"That's good to hear," she replies. I think she's going to end it at that, but that's too much to hope for as she continu
es. "I also wanted to see if you were okay after what happened Saturday night."
"Um..." I say uncomfortably as I flick my gaze toward the hall, glad Dad always closes his door when he sleeps during the day. "I'm...I'm okay."
"Have you seen or heard from Emmett at all since then?" she asks.
"No," I answer in a subdued tone.
"Ah," she says like my single syllable reply spoke volumes to her. "He told you what he is and what you are, didn't he?"
I don't answer because I don't know what to say. I can't tell this woman that I think her son is a deluded and manipulative monster who tried to seduce me into having his werewolf baby. I shudder at the thought.
"I don't know exactly what my son told you, but let me guess what you're thinking," she continues. "You don't believe what you're feeling is real. You think he's using you. You're afraid he's a monster just like the ones he protected you from twice now. "
"I...I..." I stutter out, unable to speak past the jab of guilt that accompanies her words.
"My son is a lot of things, but a monster is not one of them." Her voice is fierce with obvious maternal protectiveness. "He can be reckless and impulsive at times, and has a quick temper, but above all else, he is an honest, loyal, and good man," -she emphasizes the word "man" meaningfully- "who would die for those he cares about," she says, then adds softly. "Does that sound like a monster to you?"
Guilt hits me again, harder and more painful. "No," I answer her waveringly.
"Does he sound like someone you should be afraid of?"
"No."
"What you're feeling for Emmett, what he's feeling for you, is very very real, Raven." Her voice is calm and soothing again. "I know it's terrifying too, but it's nothing to be afraid of either."
"How do...how do..." I ask as tears choke me up and sting my eyes. I want to believe her. I want to so much.
"How do I know?" she replies in a sympathetic tone. "Because I'm just like you Raven." She's silent for a moment, letting those words sink in. She's talking about the wild blood Emmett claims I carry. "And when I met Emmett's father, I felt the same immediate connection with him that you do with our son, and I was afraid too."
"But...but what is it?" I ask her. "And...and why is it happening? I don't understand. I...I don't even know Emmett. How can I...how can I feel like this already?"
"It's simple," she replies. "You're falling in love."
"What?"
"The wild blood you carry and Emmett's werewolf blood heightens it, makes it stronger and more intense. It draws you together as a mated pair."
"It sounds like a...like a trap," I say in a panic-edged voice.
"Oh sweetie," she answers placatingly. "It's love. How can it do anything but set you free?"
I go still as I remember the dream Emmett's similar words from my nightmare.
"I've spent the last thirty some years mated to the love of my life, and I've never once felt trapped," she continues. "The bond I have with Rett is just the opposite. It makes me feel free."
"None of this makes sense," I blurt out, still feeling panicked even with her confident assertions.
"Does it have to?"
"Yes," I tell her adamantly.
"Then let me ask you this. How have you felt apart from him these last few days?" she asks. "Does it hurt? Does it feel like you're missing a piece of yourself? Have you been dreaming about him every night?"
"It's just an infatuation that will go away," I insist, trying to deny her words because of the fear they instill. "I'll be fine and so will he."
"Will you? Because I'm not so sure Emmett will be. As both wolf and man, he feels things more deeply, the good and the bad. When he gets hurt, it cuts to the bone, and his first instinct is to run off by himself, so he can lick his wounds. That's probably why I haven't seen or heard from him since Saturday either."
"What?" I ask as a pang of worry for Emmett throbs in my chest.
In my head, I can still clearly see the pained and devastated look on his face when I told him to leave. More of Emmett's words from my dream come to me. My pain is your pain. And in a sudden blast of painful realization, I know it's true. I really did hurt him that badly.
"Oh my God," I blurt out in a horrified tone, prompting Luna to crawl onto my lap with a soft whine. "Is he okay?" I picture him wandering around somewhere, distraught and all alone. What if more demonborn found him? Fear streaks through me at that thought. "What if something happened to him?" I sob out as I clutch at my dog's thick fur for comfort.
"Shh, sweetie," she replies soothingly. "I'm sure he's fine. It takes a lot to hurt a werewolf. Well, physically, anyway," she adds under her breath, and it only makes me feel worse for hurting a man normally so strong and fierce. That's right. A man. Not a monster. I'm sure of it now, or I wouldn't feel this way.
"Do you...do you know where is he?" I ask desperately. "I...I need to see him, talk to him." I don't even question my instinctive impulse to go to Emmett.
"Rett went out into the forest looking for him earlier this morning. I bet if you went to his cabin to wait for him, that he'll show up soon, if he's not there already."
Then to my shock, she proceeds to give me directions to Emmett's cabin, even though I'm the reason her son was MIA for four days in the first place. She even tells me where his spare key is, so I can let myself inside when I get there. I don't understand it, but I'm grateful.
"Thank you," I tell her sincerely in a trembling emotional voice
"Don't thank me," she replies firmly. "Just listen to your heart, Raven. Trust me, it won't steer you wrong in this."
"I will," I say with as much sincerity as I can muster before I end the call and scurry around to get dressed. Before I leave, I write Dad a note telling him that I'm going to see Emmett and where I'll be. Then I rush out the door with Luna in tow, fiercely clinging to the hope that Cadie is right or Emmett won't be the only one that gets hurt.
16
EMMETT
I bathe in the fading moonlight as the sky lightens to the east, and lap cool sweet water from the center of a shallow gurgling stream. Smooth rocks and pebbles lie under my massive paws, strewn along the bottom of the clear rippling water that swirls around my legs. I slake my thirst as the peace of the forest surrounds me. It washes away the blood from my recent hunt and subsequent meal before I return to my den and sleep through the day.
I've embraced the beast inside me completely these last few days, burying myself in the now of the wolf and locking the circling and ever threatening pain of Raven's rejection deep down inside, so it doesn't affect me. The recent full moon and its lingering pull on me make it easier, but I know it won't last. When I embrace my humanity again, the pain will still be there waiting to suck me down into despair. But for now I'm going to live in the present and worry about nothing else.
I turn and wade out of the stream, then freeze on the bank when a familiar scent hits my nose, carried on the shifting breeze that ruffles the fur along my back. Several moments later, a dark shape emerges from the trees several yards in front of me. A large dark-gray wolf comes into sight, his muzzle and paws shot through with white. It's my father, my Alpha, and the man I love and respect above all others.
He approaches with a dominant posture, his head and tail held high, and his silver eyes fixed on me. I meet him halfway, lowering my head and tail in submission and respect as I lick his muzzle in greeting. He gives me a harsh and obviously disapproving growl before laying his head over the top of my shoulders in another display of dominance. I lean into him with a soft apologetic whine. He's always hated it when I run away from my problems like this to "hide behind the wolf" as he likes to call it. My father prefers to face problems head on. It's one of the many reasons he's such a great pack Alpha. It's something I never aspired to be, unlike my brother Wyatt, who is suited to it perfectly.
My father whirls away from me and trots back into the trees, and I follow in his wake. We lope through the forest at a ground-eating pace for several miles
, until we approach a small decrepit cabin. It's made from rough-hewn logs, and is basically just a hut. No one lives here. It's one of many locations in the Wolcott Nature Preserve where the pack keeps extra clothing stashed.
I watch a full body tremor wrack my father as he shifts back to his human form, bone and muscle roiling beneath fur as it retracts under his skin. Once upright, he pushes through the cabin's door to disappear inside and reemerges a few moments later with clothing clutched in his hands. He tosses a pair of sweatpants at my feet that I promptly ignore, since I'm still in my wolf form and don't plan on shifting. He casts a disapproving gaze my way as he pulls on a pair of sweats of his own.
Of all Rett Weylin's children, I look the most like him. Though only a couple of inches taller, I have the same leanly muscular build, and strong masculine features as my father. I have his pale blue eyes and his dark hair too, minus the gray that's slowly peppered his over the years. What I don't have is the sheer power of will and the intensity that backs the scowl he's currently directing at me.
"Your mother has been worried sick about you," he snaps out roughly, his voice still harsh from the shift. "And you're out here throwing a pity party for yourself and running around like you don't have a single responsibility to anyone else."
I cringe and lower my head as guilt falls over the man and the wolf equally. Not only did I worry my mother, but I let down my family and the pack. The Wolcott Orchard & Cider Mill is a family business in every way, and Dad depends on all of us to pull our weight. Especially now that we're in the middle of the busiest part of the year, harvest season. I've been slacking off on my obligations to the orchard for these last few days. I somehow slipped back into the selfish and irresponsible behavior of my impulsive teenage years that vexed my father and upset my mother.