by A. K. Morgen
“Not until I got here.”
“This is weird to you?”
“Not at all,” I said. “I hear voices in my head and want to rip out people’s throats all the time.” I regretted the sarcastic response as soon as the words were out of my mouth.
Dace tensed, and I knew my carelessness hurt him.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Didn’t you?” he asked softly, a sliver of pain in his words.
Me and my big mouth. I cringed.
“I’m just frustrated,” I said after a moment. “I have more questions than I do answers and everything is… .” I wasn’t sure how to finish the explanation. Everything just felt weird. Things like my connection to Dace didn’t just happen. Neither did what had occurred with Ronan. Or the wolves. Or whatever Gage was or however he fit in. My life had officially become the stuff of fantasy. Who wouldn’t find that a little weird? “I never knew any of this existed until I got here. I keep expecting the truth to finally sink in. My mom just died, Dace. I don’t know how to deal with all of this and that, too.”
“I know,” he said. “It’s a lot to take in.”
I snorted. That was kind of the understatement of the century. I kept learning all this new information, all this scary information, but instead of panicking, I accepted everything. That wasn’t like me. Hell, none of this was like me, but I had no clue where that left me, or what it left.
I felt like the parts of me I’d always known packed up their bags and went on vacation, leaving this new, unfamiliar part in charge. The new part accepted impossibilities, trooped through the woods to meet wild wolves, and obsessed over a boy at first glance. The old part wouldn’t have done that, and I didn’t know how I felt about that. I’d already lost so much. The thought of losing myself, too, overwhelmed me. How could I burden him with that fear though? He had enough on his plate. “What did Kalei have to say?”
“Nothing I didn’t expect,” he said, lifting me over the second fallen log. “She already knew what happened to Dani. Things are going to get very uncomfortable for the pack in the coming days.”
“Uncomfortable?”
“As far as anyone knows, an animal attacked and killed Dani,” Dace pointed out patiently. He sounded as tired as he had the first time we’d spoken in the woods, what felt like lifetimes ago.
“Oh.” A vice squeezed my heart at the reminder of Dani and what her death might mean for the wolves. “What are they going to do?”
“What can they do?” Dace leaned down and scooped up what looked like a twig, snapping it in his hand. He was angry. He had his emotions contained, but little vestiges of his feelings still lapped at me. Every time his emotions surged, they leaked around the walls he’d put up to keep me out, I realized.
“They know the rules as well as the shifters do. You don’t kill humans. Ever. Someone broke that rule.”
“There are rules?” I hadn’t known that. Actually, I hadn’t even considered actual rules. I’m not sure why, but the thought simply hadn’t occurred.
“In a way,” he answered quietly. “Everyone here is under my protection. The shifters and wolves know that, and they play nice.”
“Oh.” I let that sink in. “Why?”
“Why are they under my protection, or why does everyone play nice?” Dace asked and then continued before I could answer, “This entire territory is mine. I share it, but it’s still mine.” He spoke so simply, with no force, pride, or swagger to his words. For him, that’s just the way things were.
I shivered lightly from his certainty. I’d never been that confident about anything in my life. I liked the fact that he had such a simple sense of self-assurance. Not egotistical or boastful, but sure, steady. The wolf might have terrified him, but Dace still had confidence in his place in this world. Had I ever felt like that?
“The wolves will help find whoever responsible because I asked, but it’s going to be dangerous for them. They haven’t been bothered by the locals thus far because no one has been harmed, and they leave the livestock alone. The town accepts them because of that. The peace won’t last now, though,” he said sadly. “The wolves will be hunted when news spread.”
“Oh,” I whispered. Poor Buka. Poor Kalei. Poor Dace. I squeezed his hand. “Can’t they leave until it’s safe?” I didn’t want them to. I liked Buka and wanted to see her again, but the risk was too great. Her safety trumped my desire to get to know her.
Dace pulled me closer to his side. “Buka welcomed you, Arionna. They won’t leave now.”
“Because of me?” I gasped.
“Because of Buka. She claimed you as one of hers.” I heard the scowl in his voice. “That means she stays behind, regardless of what the rest of the pack does. She protects you now.” That fact seemed to make him as unhappy as her claiming me in the first place. Dace really didn’t like to share. “Kalei won’t let them leave Buka unless it becomes absolutely necessary.”
“Can’t I refuse her protection?” I asked, my throat burning with unshed tears again. If the wolves died, it would be my fault. I already liked Buka and respected Kalei. I didn’t want them hurt because of me.
“Sorry, love.” Dace rubbed my arm, trying to comfort me. “It doesn’t work that way. Whether you want her protection or not, you have it. Had I known she would respond to you that way … .”
”How does all of this work, Dace?” I asked, suddenly desperate to change the subject. “How do you talk to wolves? Why do they accept you? Do they know who killed Dani, or why they’re even here?”
“I don’t know how or why, Arionna,” he said as we broke through the last of the trees. “I don’t think they know why they’re here. Like I told you the first time you asked, I’m not even sure they know this isn’t home for them. They feel drawn to the area, and for them, that’s reason enough to be here.”
I saw his Jeep in the parking lot beyond the baseball field. I sighed, relieved we were out of the trees. I loved the woods, but trooping through them at night, even with Dace’s help, disconcerted me.
“Well, is the way you communicate with them like it is with us? Your thoughts in my mind?” I pressed. I wanted to understand this, to understand him.
He frowned. “It’s nothing like that. With you, there’s this intimate connection. I feel what you’re feeling and what you’re thinking, when you’re moving or sitting still. With them, I simply know what they’re trying to convey. There are images at times, but not often. Understanding of what they’re saying is simply there.”
“They don’t find it odd you communicate with them?” I asked as he led me down the hill to the park. “Can all of the shifters communicate with them?”
“No. I’m the only one they’ve met, but there have been others before. Wolves are …” He paused, his brow furrowed as he searched for an explanation I would understand. “Have you ever read a news story about animals raising abandoned children or animals of another species?”
I nodded. The stories weren’t common, but the news always picked them up when they occurred. I guess we had such a big fascination with stories like that because they were so amazing. Like the lion and pig in Thailand that cared for one another’s babies, or the dogs that cared for the little boy who’d been abandoned in a condemned apartment complex years ago. People tended to view animals as inferior species, so when an animal did something like that, we always felt a little shocked and awed.
“They don’t view things quite the same way, so they accept things more readily than humans. Impossibilities don’t exist for wolves. They have access to this pack mind and remember a lot more than we can as a result. They say I’m different, and they aren’t quite sure what that means, but most of them don’t question me either. I’m Alpha, and half of me is wolf. That’s enough for them even if they don’t like it.”
The parallels between me and the wolves were evident to me. Like the wolves, I didn’t understand the things occurring around us, but my mind kept accepting them, confirming
what I’d already begun to accept. At some point before, I had been part of this world. The thing in me, whatever had sprung up last night and wanted out … I felt it truly was a wolf or had been one at some time.
That certainty made me feel a little better in a way. Less unbalanced.
“What do you mean, you’re different than the other shifters?” I asked instead of dwelling on my species. He’d said the same thing before, but how that could be possible? Surely he couldn’t be the only one like him.
“The other shifters aren’t separate. The animal is part of who they are. For me, it’s not like that.” Dace paused as we neared a picnic bench and leaned down, tracing a circle across the scarred top. “If that’s my mind or soul or whatever,” he said, tapping that imaginary circle, “then this”—he divided the circle down the middle and pointed to one side—”is me. The wolf is over here.” He pointed to the other side of the circle. “We’re both in there, but we’re divided. I can keep him locked up, but I can’t understand him. I don’t know what he wants or why I can’t communicate with him.”
I stared down at that circle, not sure what to say. “It’s not like that for the others?”
“No, it’s not. When another shifter changes, he’s still the same person. He remembers himself, controls himself. He’s one person, no matter what. For me, it’s like having two different beings inside who speak completely different languages. I understand bits and pieces occasionally, but for the most part, he speaks Greek, and I speak English. When he gets loose, I have no control until he decides to give it back.” He didn’t look at me as he spoke, giving me time to absorb his revelation without feeling like I had to put on a front for him, I think.
Maybe he thought I’d be afraid, but I wasn’t. Even after the events at the rave, I couldn’t imagine losing myself like that. Constantly struggling between two different sides of who you are had to be terrifying. To feel as if you are two entirely different creatures every minute of the day, and to be the only one of your kind like that. The wolf in him probably felt the same way, locked away in his cage with no understanding of why. Knowing that gave me a little perspective I’d been lacking.
I might have felt like an entirely new person, but at least there wasn’t a disconnect between who I had been and who I’d become. They were both me. Just different. Dace and his wolf though … they were both trapped. Two beings sharing one mind, with no way to communicate, no way to understand the other.
“I’m sorry,” I said. I reached out to him, putting my hand against his jaw. “It doesn’t seem fair to either of you.”
He did look at me, his eyes wide and bottomless. He placed one hand on my cheek. “You’re amazing,” he murmured simply, his gaze boring into me.
Just like every other time he looked at me like that or touched me, the world around me tilted and everything but him fell out of focus. That spark of energy constantly crackling around us intensified, causing heat to spread from low in my stomach.
He slid his hand around my cheek, cupping the back of my neck lightly. His hands were so much bigger than mine, so much more powerful than mine, and still so gentle when he touched me. He pulled me closer.
“If I kiss you, is your world going to stop spinning?” He whispered the question, his voice dark and seductive.
“Probably.” I swallowed convulsively, trying to catch my breath.
“Good,” he murmured with a wicked grin, and then moved.
Like before, everything blurred. One minute, I was staring up at him, his hand cupped around my neck and his eyes boring into mine. The next, he leaned me back across the picnic table, pressing my hands into the cool wood over my head, his body not touching mine but close. I had no memory whatsoever of how I got there, and I didn’t care. I couldn’t think far enough beyond the thought that he had his thigh wedged between my legs with his lips hovering inches from mine to care how he got me there so fast.
I bit my lower lip, staring up at him, my heart racing and my entire body screaming for him to touch me, to kiss me, to claim me. I wanted his mark, not Buka’s.
He growled softly, responding to my thoughts, then darted his tongue out and licked at my bottom lip. The air whooshed from my lungs. My back arched away from the table, pushing me toward him. I saw stars shining overhead, but they were inconsequential compared to the green lights of Dace’s eyes; lightning bugs next to the aurora borealis.
He growled low in his throat again, his hands holding mine prisoner on the table, and sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, biting gently.
I whimpered, and thrashed against the table, tugging at my arms, pleading for him to let me go so I could touch him, too.
“No,” he murmured, his voice more guttural than ever before. “If you touch me … .” He flicked his tongue across my lower lip.
I did the only thing I knew to do. I darted my tongue out to touch the tip of his.
Air hissed between his teeth at the contact, and his lip curled. His hold on my hands slackened and fell away momentarily.
That was the only opening I needed.
I circled my arms around his neck in a blink, pulling him down to me. He didn’t even try to fight. He crushed me to his chest instead, kissing me desperately. He wasn’t gentle, and I didn’t care. His reaction was exactly what I wanted, what I needed from him. This was him. His mark, his desire, and the way he felt about me.
He tilted my head back to allow for better access, and thought exploded around me. I curled my tongue around his, fisting my hands into his hair. The strands were as soft as Buka’s fur had been, silky and just long enough for me to plunge my fingers into them and tug.
He skimmed his hands up and down my sides, leaving little bits of fire everywhere he touched. Those little nibbling teeth were all over my skin again, like his aura kissed and touched me too. I pressed myself closer to him, wanting nothing more than to crawl inside his mind like he did mine. It’d be cozy in there. Warm, and soft, and not confusing at all.
He pressed his thigh against me, shifting above me.
Sensation ripped through me, and I gasped. Where my fear and his anger fed off one another the night before, my pleasure and his now did the same. The spiraling sensations left me stunned, unable to form a single thought or move as they roared through me.
Dace growled, the sound triumphant, and as suddenly as the night before, his wolf slipped the bonds holding him. The wolf leapt into my mind so forcefully, it tore me from Dace’s arms and flung me backwards. I cried out, my head smacking the table hard.
Chapter Fifteen
The pain hit at once, exploding out from the point of impact. I groaned and rolled on my side, breathing hard. I wasn’t immediately sure why the wolf leapt, but his entrance hurt. A lot. I groaned again.
Dace struggled against the animal, fighting to pull him back and cage him. The wolf ignored him. He was pleased with himself. Pleased he’d slipped free and flooded my mind fully for once. He wasn’t trying to force Dace to change. He didn’t want that at all. He wanted me.
I cradled my aching head in my hands.
The wolf stopped howling. I clearly saw him hesitate. He looked right at me, right through me. I don’t know how, but his eyes seemed to meet mine from the inside. As suddenly as our gazes locked, horror washed through me, coming from him.
He whined. The self-loathing sound caused goose bumps to pebble my skin. And then he fled back into his corner as quickly as he’d leapt out of it.
“Fuck,” Dace swore savagely, breathing hard. He stepped around the table and stopped, seemingly scared to touch me. “Arionna, love, are you okay?”
I wanted to assure him I was fine, but I couldn’t form the words. My head still hurt, but more importantly, I still felt the wolf’s emotions, like the crack existing between mine and Dace’s minds had reshaped itself to include him now that he’d broken through for once.
His thoughts trickled into me, and I understood what Dace meant about the wolf not being the same as him. He wasn’t the same. Not
exactly. He was part of Dace, but he was his own entity too. His own consciousness. His own mind. His own desires. He and Dace belonged to one another, but not. They were supposed to be the same—maybe—supposed to be whole, but for some reason they weren’t. The truth flowed through the newly expanded crack.
Dace’s horror and panic knotted tightly with a matching horror and panic from the wolf. He knew he’d hurt me, and he was sorry. Tears welled in my eyes, their joint emotions overwhelming me.
“Arionna, please.” Dace hovered in front of me, his panic coming through loud and clear. “Please, talk to me.”
“I’m … .” The words stuck. I cleared my throat then tried again, “I’m fine.”
“You’re hurt.”
“I’m fine,” I said more firmly than before. I rose to a sitting position. The movement sent shards of pain lancing out from where my head hit the table, causing me to wince.
“I’m so, so sorry,” Dace said, squatting down until his eyes were level with mine. Remorse and guilt burned in gorgeous green just as clearly as the emotions whispered through my mind.
“I’m fine, Dace.” I lifted my hand toward him and then thought better of touching him. I let my hand fall. “He didn’t mean to hurt me—”
Dace growled, his eyes hardening.
“I can feel him.” Wonder coursed through me at that. I truly felt him. Like with Dace’s connection to Kalei’s pack, there weren’t words, or even images. But the wolf’s thoughts were there all the same.
Dace looked at me, and I saw he didn’t know what I meant, what I was talking about. He couldn’t feel it.
“What he’s thinking. It’s here,” I said, touching my forehead. “All of it.” I couldn’t keep the awe out of my voice.
“You know what he’s thinking?” The words were hesitant, uncertain. Hopeful.
“Yes.” I nodded. The movement hurt less than it had a moment ago. Nothing seriously damaged then, thank God. More important than that, however, a picture emerged like puzzle pieces snapping securely into place. The little pieces fit together in ways more impossible than anything else that’d happened lately, but that didn’t seem to matter much. They fit.