Then he tilted his head as his ears pricked. Was she… humming? He listened harder. She was! The lilting melody captured his imagination as the sound gently wrapped around him. When she dipped herself beneath the water’s surface and slicked back her hair, thrusting her breasts outward, a sigh whispered from him. Averell retrieved a bar of soap from the bank where a towel and her clothes rested, and as she began to push the lather over her skin, the faint scent of honeysuckle drifted to his location.
Go to her. Claim her. Mark her as ours.
He shook his head. Not yet.
And still he watched, all the while fighting the invisible pull that urged him to close the distance between them. It wouldn’t do to give in, not like this, not while he was as naked as she, with her a virgin besides.
Her pale fingers almost glowed in the moonlight. Would that he could take that soap from her hand and assist her with the task. Quinn died a thousand deaths when she dipped a hand beneath the water and a shuddering sigh escaped her throat.
Damnation. She is pleasuring herself.
His length hardened and pulsed with need. So innocent and yet self-experienced. Hot desire coursed through him for this woman. He took himself in hand. What would it be like thrusting inside her honeyed heat, having that mass of hair fall around him as she rode him, tugging on those tresses as he deeply kissed her? Quinn fisted his hand around his member and stroked in time to her play. Sensations raced through him. If he found release, there was a chance his wolf side would take the momentary loss of control and shift. He didn’t wish to startle Averell let alone introduce her to that side of him so abruptly and perhaps terrify her. A man didn’t throw himself on a woman he’d just met. It would destroy that curious connection developing.
He needed that mate’s bond to remain strong and trusting.
Quickly and as silently as he’d come, Quinn moved deeper into the trees. He would leave Averell to her privacy and hoped that when he returned to the area, his body would have settled enough to conduct a proper conversation.
But bloody hell he wanted her.
AN HOUR later he came back to the pool, still in his human form and clad in clean hunter’s garb he’d stowed at his customary drop point in this part of the forest. He breathed a sigh of relief to find her fully clothed in the same navy dress she’d worn the night before. She perched on a large boulder, and with a comb in hand, attempted to work out the tangles from her damp hair.
“I realize this is rather a bizarre request, but I would be happy to take up the task of combing your glorious tresses,” Quinn said in a soft voice as he came out of the trees.
Averell gasped, but when her gaze alighted on him, she smiled and that gesture caught at his chest. “What are you doing here? I assumed you would have returned home.”
“I did, but I’ve found this area of the forest holds sights I cannot seem to forget.” Once he reached her boulder, he gently took the tortoiseshell comb from her fingers. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” Pleasure lit her lake blue eyes and he wanted to drown in those depths. “You came to see me.” It wasn’t a question.
“I did.” He encouraged her to present her back to him and then he drew the teeth of the comb through a section of her hair. “There is something about you, Averell, that pulls me closer.” There was no harm in admitting it. “Something that binds us together.”
She glanced at him over her shoulder. The smile she gave him sent heat curling into his blood. “I feel that as well.”
In silence he worked through her tresses that were as soft as the finest spun silk.
“Where are you from, mysterious Quinn?” she asked in a voice riddled with curiosity. “I should know more about the man who kissed me and who now does the intimate task of combing my hair.”
What to tell her? Suddenly, he wished to confess everything, but he couldn’t. Not yet, but he needed to give her something. “I reside in Annanvale, so it’s not very far from here, perhaps a few hours’ ride. I work closely with the royal family.” Again, not exactly a lie.
“Ah.” She shifted her position so he could better work on the other side of her head. “What do you think of royalty and of that life?”
Quinn snorted. “They waste their opportunities and don’t do nearly enough for their subjects as they argue about things that don’t matter.”
“It is unfortunate that people in positions of power abuse it.”
“Yes.” He concentrated on the comb in his hand. “Soon it will change and a new era will usher itself in.”
“What of magic? Do you believe it exists? Do you feel it serves a purpose in life or do you feel it’s an evil intrusion?”
Her words, delivered with curiosity and without guile, lodged in his chest with all the accuracy of arrows. “I believe magic is part of the foundation of everything around us. For good or for ill, that is something of our own choosing.” He stilled his fingers. “Some of us are more steeped in it than others. And that isn’t a bad thing.”
“That’s what I believe too.” She sounded pleased. “Sometimes, I think an unnamed need inside me will burst forth if I but utter the words that will release it.” A sigh escaped her. “What the magic will be, I don’t know.”
Odd, that. Was she not a mere huntsman’s daughter? He resumed his task. The heat of her body seeped into his fingers and he gathered her hair, holding it off her neck. “There are many different kinds of magic, Averell,” he whispered before he pressed his lips against her nape. Was he interested in a romantic bond with this woman? “Some of our own making and some that has been forced upon us whether we wished for it or not.” Yes, he was. He couldn’t deny that pull, and it certainly wasn’t going away.
“You harbor a secret.” Again, it wasn’t a question.
“Now is not the right time to reveal it.” Would that he could keep the knowledge to himself, but he wouldn’t lie to her. She must make the decision to be with him by herself. He didn’t want her if she was fearful or inclined to call out a group of huntsmen to track him.
The shiver that moved through her body transferred to him and he fell further beneath her spell. “Is that what is brewing between us then—magic?” She shifted on the boulder so that she half faced him.
“You feel it too, that connection, that invisible thread?”
“I do. It both puzzles me and excites me.” Her eyes widened.
Was it fate or mere coincidence that they’d met? Perhaps it didn’t matter. A grin tugged on the corners of his mouth. “If we are fortunate then yes, it is our own special… magic.” He handed her the comb and then cupped her cheek. Never would he tire of touching her, of being near her. “Does that frighten you?”
“Not at all. I…” She kept her gaze on his. “I welcome it.”
Should he tell her of his hidden nature? It might destroy the web of trust and pleasurable tension that wove them together. “Do you wish to explore that thread? Soon?” Did he ask it of her, or them both together?
“I do.” She nuzzled into his palm and his heart constricted. “Are you afraid, Quinn?”
Was he? He stared into her eyes where the moon reflected in the depths and he shook his head. “No. In fact, I’m looking forward to finding out more.” It was the same that he’d told her the first day when they’d met in the forest. “Shall we?”
With a mysterious grin, she slipped off the boulder. “Allow me a few moments to plait my hair then perhaps we can stroll for a bit. And talk. Unless you need to return home imminently?”
He tucked the comb into a pocket of his coat. His wolf whined with frustration inside his head. “I am yours for the duration.” But for how long? Once he told her all of his secrets, would she run?
CHAPTER 5
AVERELL TOOK YET another glance out the front window. Stew bubbled on the fire, and the hour for the evening meal had come and gone. Her father hadn’t returned from the hunt he’d left for early that morning and worry tightened her chest.
He never missed his dinn
er when not on a trip to the village.
When another hour went by, her concern grew. After taking the stew off the fire, she covered the iron pot with its matching lid, set it on the hearth’s lip and then donned her typical hunting garb: deer skin leggings, leather knee boots, an ivory gown that she rucked up in front with buckles on leather stays, a leather stomacher that cinched her waist, and her brown wool cloak. Once she donned her leather gloves, she grabbed her quiver of arrows and her bow, and was out the cottage door in less than ten minutes.
The night closed around her with a hint of a summer’s chill that kept humidity at bay. All around her the skittering of rodent feet and the rustle of shrubbery leaves let her know she wasn’t alone beneath the canopy. As the light from the moon—it would be full in two nights—filtered through the trees, it dappled and frosted the ground with silver.
Perhaps in different circumstances, she would pause to study it, for the effect was lovely, romantic even, but tonight, her stomach cramping with unease and alarm, she ignored it and used the light to help her search for signs her father had passed this way.
Averell had walked an hour before she paused to rest. Papa, what has become of you? Her hairs on her nape prickled with warning. Something was close… and watching. She cocked her head to better listen. A soft snort from an animal followed by panting breath broke the stillness. Slowly, she turned and concentrated her focus on the undergrowth. There it was. Amber eyes of a beast glowed from deep within the foliage.
She sucked in a breath. Her heartbeat accelerated. The cold sweat of fear slid down her spine and plastered her dress to her back. Those were not the eyes of a deer. They belonged to a predator. As quietly as she could, she drew an arrow from her quiver. There would be one opportunity to put the beast down if it attacked.
In the space of her next inhalation, the eyes disappeared. Averell held her arrow nocked on the bowstring for long moments, her body tensed in anticipation of the predator springing out of the shrubbery, but nothing happened. Had it moved on or did it even now watch her?
Eventually, she relaxed and continued on her way, but she couldn’t banish those eyes from her mind. They were familiar and she didn’t know why.
Ever deeper into the forest, moving along pieces of land she’d not explored in-depth by herself, Averell nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand dropped onto her shoulder and halted her forward momentum.
“Hold, Averell. I’m not your enemy.” Quinn’s voice seeped into her mind and she wilted with relief. He encouraged her to turn and when she did, their gazes connected. “What are you doing out here by yourself? There are things afoot this night that would like nothing more than to pounce.”
“Are you one of them?” She couldn’t help the teasing in her tone despite the concern that had brought her into the forest. Every time she was in this man’s company, she felt renewed and excited, as if she stood on the cusp of something amazing that hadn’t quite formed.
The night before, they’d strolled through the moonlight-frosted trees and talked of many things, most of which had nothing to do with their personal lives. At one point, Quinn had held her hand and threaded their fingers together, and it had felt as if such a thing were the most natural gesture in the world. When they’d parted, he’d kissed her forehead, but his eyes had darkened with a desire he didn’t voice.
I want to know of that desire.
Now, his soft laughter sent frissons of excitement over her skin that intensified the awareness she held for him. “Perhaps I might be if the circumstances were right.”
Shivery sensation tripped down her spine, both anticipatory and disturbing. “Would that we had the opportunity for flirtation or even scandal, but I’m afraid I am out here on a more urgent mission.”
“What has happened?” Trepidation flooded his voice and he gripped her shoulders in his gloved hands. The light of the moon flashed in his brown eyes, turning them amber for the space of a heartbeat.
“My father didn’t return to the cottage for dinner. He never misses a meal unless he’s on his monthly trip to the village.” She gripped her bow and arrow tighter. “I fear he has met with peril.”
“Was he out on a regular hunting trip?”
How much should she reveal to this man? When she didn’t answer, he gently shook her.
“Averell, I need the truth, for I cannot help if I don’t have all the facts. What was your father about?”
Her heart squeezed. This man would assist, when he’d never met her father. “He is the queen’s personal huntsman, and for whatever reason she tasked him with killing a young girl whose beauty is reputed to be so great the queen is threatened by it. She demanded the girl’s heart for proof.” She forced a swallow to encourage moisture into her suddenly dry throat. What must he think of them? “He lamented to me that he couldn’t do it, that he wasn’t a murderer, so I suggested he swap out a human heart for that of a stag’s.”
Quinn’s lower jaw hung open slightly. “I… I don’t know quite how to respond.”
How would he react if she told him said queen was her mother? No reason to reveal that at the moment. She nodded. “It’s horrid to contemplate, but time is of the essence.” She laid her free hand on his chest—his very hard chest. “My father left at first light for the hunt. He’s not returned, and that is unlike him.”
“Never fear.” He held her gaze. Compassion reflected in those ever-changing depths as well as something powerful and primal. The more she peered into his eyes, the more curious and eager she grew. It was almost… mesmerizing. “We shall find him. Together. I won’t let you continue this quest alone.”
“You would do this regardless of your own schedule or the fact you have never met my father?” She shivered as a breeze blew over the area, and Quinn wrapped his arms around her.
“I do this for you, because you are upset and you believe something has happened. Everything else is not of consequence.” He held her close and she borrowed strength from him. “Besides, what better way to force an introduction to your father than finding him upon a hunt?”
She smiled, and she lost a piece of her heart to him in that moment. His scent of cedarwood and citrus teased her nose. “Thank you. I’m certain he will instantly take a liking to you.” Papa had already given her his blessing to keep seeing Quinn, but it would be nice for them to meet. When she stirred, he released her and she mourned the loss of his warmth. “We’d better crack on then. I know not what we’ll find, but I’m anxious just the same.”
“I understand.” He patted her cheek, lingering his gloved fingers upon her skin. “Prepare yourself for any possibility. From what you’ve said, this queen doesn’t sound like someone to trifle with, and if your father has indeed deceived her…”
Averell nodded. She swallowed heavily and when tears stung the backs of her eyelids, she willed herself not to cry. It would solve nothing. “Let’s go.”
Yet he slipped his hand to her nape and tugged her close. “I’m here now. We’ll meet what comes together,” he whispered. Then he fitted his mouth to hers, moving gently over her lips in a kiss that promised much and set her blood on fire. When he pulled away, the amber tint colored his eyes once more. “Come.” He held out a hand.
As she placed her free hand in his, she frowned. Why was it they’d basically met at night and in the woods and why did he have such intense energy about him, almost as if he was holding his power back? What secrets did he hide in those fascinating eyes behind his veneer of charm? These were things she’d need to discover and soon… before she fell so completely for him that she couldn’t find her way back.
An hour later, they came upon her father. He lay slumped against a fallen tree. A dagger protruded from his abdomen, the golden hilt glittering in the moonlight.
“Papa!” Averell raced over the distance separating them. She dropped her bow and the arrow she still held. Decaying leaves and pine needles muffled her boot steps. She threw herself onto her knees at his side. Her stomach muscles clenched in f
ear. “Who did this to you?” Blood coated his clothing and had pooled on the ground beneath him.
“Averell?” His eyes fluttered open. Joy creased his too-pale face. A trickle of blood oozed from the corner of his mouth. “Of course you would find me. You never did manage to follow my dictates and remain safe.” He dropped a hand onto her head and petted her hair as he’d done when she was a small child. “Go home. These woods are not the place for you this night. She is about.”
“I won’t leave you.” She clutched at his hand, leaned forward and kissed his cheek. He was so cold. As panic climbed her spine, she glanced over her shoulder at Quinn. “What can we do?”
“I’m afraid there is nothing we can do that will save your father,” he murmured as he knelt at her papa’s other side. Quickly, he examined the wound as best he could without removing the dagger. “The cut is deep and it has undoubtedly sliced through internal organs. As it is, he’s lost copious amounts of blood. And from the rapid state of things, I’d wager the blade was dipped in poison as well.” He met her gaze. “Say your goodbyes.”
Tears sprang to her eyes as she glanced between the two men in her life—one she’d just met and had come to rely on and one she’d known a lifetime but now must lose. “This is terrible.”
Despite the egregious circumstances, her father chuckled. “This must be Quinn, the huntsman who has captivated my daughter.” He held out a hand. “Pleasure to meet you, son.”
“I can see where Averell gained her temperament and strength,” Quinn responded and clasped the proffered appendage.
Her father’s hand shook as he held Quinn’s gaze. “Do you promise you do not trifle with her affections?” Saliva bubbled at one side of his mouth.
“I promise. What I feel for your daughter is…” He paused as if considering his words carefully. “…surprising and encouraging.”
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