Lycan Unleashed
Page 12
“Why—why can’t I get rid of you?” she asked, waving her hand to cool herself down. Ever since they’d...shagged...she could smell him. Everywhere. Around her. On her. In her. He was everywhere, to the extent that she couldn’t think of much else.
“You mean my scent?” he clarified drily.
She nodded. That would be a start. His scent was pervasive, so pleasant and so damn distracting. She had this knowing, this awareness of him. Where he was, what he was doing, it was as though she’d lost all independent thought and could only focus on him. It had taken every ounce of strength she could muster to stalk ahead of him and lead his pack on this ridiculous hike.
Even now, she wanted to tug his head down and plant her lips on his, press her body to his, rub up against him.
“We-ell,” he began slowly, as though searching for the right words. “We shared an intense experience. Something—” he unfolded his arms, his hands gesturing between them “—happened.”
Intense. She bit her lip, trying not to smile in pleased satisfaction. He’d called it an intense experience. She frowned. She shouldn’t be feeling satisfaction that he’d felt to the same degree what she had. There was still the matter of his wife.
“What about your wife?” she asked abruptly, pulling at her collar. The climb had made her hot. She must be out of shape. She hadn’t attempted that particular climb in years, and now she’d done it twice in one day.
His eyebrows rose at the switch in topics. “Uh, my wife is dead,” he said in a quiet, reverent tone.
She closed her eyes for a moment. Oh, God, she was a bitch. “Dead?” She opened her eyes in a squint as she peered up at him. He nodded.
“Five years ago.”
“I’m so sorry, Matthias,” she said in a whisper, and blinked away tears. Now she understood his defense of pining mates.
He placed a finger under her chin and nudged gently until she met his gaze. His brow creased. “You’re trying not to cry?”
She shook her head, freeing her chin as she rubbed her nose. “No. I mean, maybe.” She sucked in a breath. “I’m sorry to hear that you loved a woman, and you lost her. I feel sad when I hear stuff like that.” She gestured to the chain around his neck. “You obviously loved her a great deal, to keep wearing her ring.”
His gaze became shuttered as he clasped the ring, covering it with his large hand. “I did love her,” he admitted.
Heat washed over her briefly, then it was gone. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead, patting at the beads of perspiration there. “Uh, well, I’m so ashamed of what I said to you, what I called you,” she said, finally meeting his gaze. “I’m truly sorry.”
He shook his head. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said softly, then reached up to brush a curl that had escaped her braid behind her ear. He closely scanned her face. “Are you okay, Trinity?”
“I’m fine,” she said, this time succeeding with a smile. No. No, she wasn’t. Her heart was sore, and damned if she knew why. The first man she’d lain with in years was technically free, but forever bound to his wife’s ghost. She was beginning to feel things, weird things, wonderful things, for this lycan she shouldn’t be having feelings for, and she’d just learned those feelings would never be returned. He still wore his wife’s ring. It was obvious his heart was still bound to her. He might kiss Trinity and more but it seemed his heart would never be free of the woman he’d married.
They hadn’t known each other long enough to develop much of anything, but discovering that Matthias was available, yet not, was like showing a pup a bone and tossing it across a vamp border. Available, but unattainable—and yet their families were at war, so it shouldn’t matter if he was attainable; he was automatically out of bounds. Even if they had shared the best sex of her life, and all she could think about was sharing more great, fantastic, too-good-to-be-true sex. Damned if the shame of it all wasn’t burning in her like a humiliating fever.
“Now I want to ask you a question,” he said, his hands on his hips. Damn it, she wasn’t going to stare at his chest. She smiled again as she waited for his query, but even she could tell it was a brittle effort. She forced her focus to those intent eyes of his.
“What?” He’d been decent with her. She’d accused him of cheating on his mate when he hadn’t. He’d just been enjoying the moment. A free agent. Just like her. Although maybe when she got out of this mess she’d focus her attentions on a Woodland male, or at least one from a friendly pack—if Rafe hadn’t turned all of Irondell against them between now and then. Strangely, the idea of lying with another lycan held no appeal for her.
“Why are you taking us on this roundabout tour of Woodland?”
Oh. He’d noticed. “Uh...”
He stepped closer. “Take me to Rafe, Trinity. Please.”
She blinked, but this time she couldn’t hold the tears back. “I can’t.”
He swiped the tear that rolled down her cheek, his confusion evident in his gaze. “Why not?”
“Because I can’t betray my pack,” she whispered.
His eyes rounded in surprise, and he slid his hand around to cup the back of her head. She closed her eyes briefly, leaning into the caress, before finally meeting the disappointment she knew she’d see.
Matthias was frowning. “Rafe laughed when we suggested the trade, Trinity,” he said. “He told us we could keep you, for all he cared. Woodland cast you out.” He swallowed. “They hurt you.” His expression showed pain, anger—for her? “Why do you still feel loyal to them?”
“They’re my family.”
“No, family honor you. Family respect you. Family will lay down their lives for you. Woodland has done none of those.”
Her eyes narrowed against the hurt, and the truth in his words. “Sometimes family does stupid, annoying, heartbreaking things, Matthias. You have to love them anyway, and hope. And forgive. You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.”
“I did,” he muttered. “You can choose, too, Trinity.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re not an Alpine genuine?” This was news to her. This lycan defended his pack so devoutly, so assuredly, she would never have guessed he wasn’t Alpine by blood.
“I chose to belong to Alpine.” His lips curled, and the desire that flared within her was almost a painful yearning. “Actually, it was more like they chose me. Jared welcomed me when I had no family. So you see, Trinity, you can choose your family.”
“You want me to choose Alpine over my family? My pack?” She shook her head. “You know better than that, Matthias. Werewolves—we are a noble breed. Honor. Family. Commitment. Loyalty. This is what sets us apart from the vampires, no matter how much they might like to argue the point. Woodland is my family. I will not betray them.”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Your determination to adhere to an ideal that no longer exists astounds me. Woodland not only cast you aside, they left you in the hands of their enemy. Yet you are steadfast in your commitment to a pack that doesn’t even acknowledge you. That’s not loyalty, that’s—” he bit off the rest of his sentence, shaking his head.
“That’s what, Matthias? Naïveté? Stupidity?” she shot back, another wave of heat rising inside her. She didn’t know if it was hurt, or anger, or desire. She had no anchor to her emotions around this lycan.
“I was going to say desperate. I don’t believe for a second that you back the decisions Rafe made, yet you stubbornly cling to the hope that your pack will want you back. They probably think you’re already leading us to them as we speak.”
She shook her head. “Despite everything you think you know about me, there are still some in Woodland who know me, and know I would never desert them.” One in particular. Dalton had been her only friend, and he’d made her life bearable. She wasn’t her father, and she had to believe that somewhere in Woodland, others knew th
at. That some of them trusted in her good faith. Dalton believed in her, she knew that. If he could, then perhaps the rest could, too. In time. She had hope. She clung to it. Otherwise the last thirteen years would have been a waste of time, craving something she’d never have—and that really would make her her father’s daughter.
She glanced up at the sun. It was so hot, so much warmer than a normal autumn day. She shrugged out of her jacket and tied it around her waist, then lifted her braid off the back of her neck and fanned herself. Her heart was thudding in her chest, and she took a deep breath to calm herself.
Damn it, there it was again, his scent. Threading inside her, curling up in all her darkest, most secret places. She growled softly. “I have washed twice before starting out today, and still, all I can smell is you,” she muttered. “I think I need to go sniff some smoke.”
He blinked. “Sorry?”
“Smoke. It clears the nasal passages,” she explained. “That’s how I focus on a single scent, if I have to. Wave a smoldering stick under my nose, and then focus.” She nodded. Yes, focus. She glanced back at Matthias.
He really was beautiful. The short length of his hair drew her attention to his face, to the line of his jaw, the slash of his nose, those firm, sensuous lips. His skin was so smooth, so golden. Her heart thudded in her chest, and she placed a hand over it.
He frowned as he came closer. “Are you sure you’re okay, Trinity?”
She fanned herself, trying to cool herself down, trying dismally to focus on something other than the sexy guardian in front of her, the one who wanted her to cross to the dark side, to commit the ultimate betrayal against her pack.
She couldn’t lie. She was tempted. And that knowledge flushed her with shame. He’d held her, he’d stroked her and caressed her, he’d given her ultimate joy—an intense experience. She craved his touch again, the driving need to have him pet her, stroke her...
“I, uh, feel a little warm,” she confessed.
A knowing crept into his eyes, an acceptance, a carnal satisfaction, but also a tender concern. “I might know why.”
She lifted her eyebrows as he approached her, a warm sympathy edging into his eyes, turning them a deeper, darker green. Yeah, he looked like he knew, and whatever it was, it didn’t look like she was going to like it. But if she knew, perhaps she could get some relief from this almost unbearable flush. It spread from her core outward, drenching her in a strange, consuming heat. Her body throbbed—her heart, her core, her nipples... Even her ears.
Oh, dear. She must be sick. It was rare for a shifter to get sick, so whatever was wrong with her, it must be serious. She licked her lips. Maybe there was some sort of Alpine virus, and Woodland lycans were susceptible to it.
“When a male and a female, uh...” Matthias winced, and tried to communicate with his hands. She frowned. When they roll over each other? No, when they become a V?
“When a male and female...lie together,” he said, trying again, “sometimes something happens...”
She closed her eyes. Good grief. He was trying to have the talk with her.
“Oh, God, please stop. I know where babies come from,” she muttered. “And pregnancy doesn’t start from a fever.” She shook her head. “What the hell do they teach you at Alpine? What, you sneeze and, hello, there’s a pup?”
Matthias shook his head, closing his eyes briefly. “God, no. I was trying to say that sometimes when a male and female lie together, something—”
“Yes, something happens. It’s called sex, Matthias.”
“It’s called imprinting,” he stated bluntly.
She blinked. “What?”
He cleared his throat. “Imprinting. It’s when the male marks his female.”
She frowned and stepped away for a moment, her hands on her hips as she pondered his words. When a male marks a... Her hands rose to the bite mark on her neck. He hadn’t drawn blood, but there was a definite bruise there.
“You bit me,” she said as she turned to face him, rubbing her neck. “Is that what you mean?” She bit her lip. “Did you—did you give me something, when you bit me? Like a virus?” Oh, God, she was going to die.
His expression grew pained, and he grimaced. “Not quite. I marked you, with a bite, and with my scent.”
She wrinkled her nose. “That’s why I can’t get your fragrance out of my nose,” she said. She had to admit, if she was going to get a scent stuck up her nose, it could be worse. His was...sexy. Another wave of liquid warmth rose inside her as he reached for her. His large hands settled on her hips, and he pulled her just a little closer, so that they were almost, but not quite, touching chest to chest. His hands were strong as he gripped her. She couldn’t help remembering what his hands had felt like, gliding over her, caressing inside her. Hell, she was melting just at the thought.
“I’ve marked you as mine,” he said in a low voice, a rumble from deep inside that broad, muscled chest. There was a possessiveness in his tone, a dominance that sent secret thrills through her, even though her beast arched inside her, as though wanting him to know she wasn’t easily dominated.
This time there was no mistaking the flush in her cheeks, the beads of perspiration, and the fire of desire in her core. She sucked in a breath. “I don’t understand,” she murmured. She was hot, so hot. For him.
“I’ve marked you as mine, and you are reacting like a female lycan. Your senses go on overdrive, and you have an increased drive to...”
“To what?” she whispered, her gaze meeting his, and she saw the golden glow of the wolf flash in his eyes. She shuddered in response, as a woman, as wolf—as a female.
“To mate.”
She licked her lips, then froze. She blinked, then tilted her head back to look at him carefully. Her eyes narrowed.
“Are you saying I’m in heat?”
Chapter 12
The earth shook as Trinity’s fist connected with his chin, and Matthias stumbled backward. Trinity fell to the ground, her surprised expression mirroring his, as she sat up to look at him.
“Was—was that me?” she queried, shocked.
He gingerly touched his jaw as he gained his feet. His she-wolf could pack quite the punch. Still, it took more than that to throw him to the ground. “I—I think there was a little more to it than you.”
She frowned as she scrambled to her feet. “Sorry. Seeing as you’re the resident expert on bitches in heat, I thought I’d raise the question,” she snapped, and he winced. “Then what was it?”
“I don’t know. It might have been an earthquake. We used to have them occasionally on the west coast—but I’ve never felt one here, in the east,” he had to admit.
If he thought Trinity was pissed before, it wasn’t a patch on what she was now. She was angry. Very, very angry.
“So give it to me straight, this imprinting—I see you, I smell you, all I can think about is you and...sex? You did this to me?”
He frowned. “How is it that you don’t know this stuff? This is Lycanthropy one-oh-one. All of us learn it before our first wandering. It doesn’t just affect the females. A connection is formed, and males have a similar preoccupation with the female and...sex.”
“Apologies. Must have missed that particular lecture.”
It slowly dawned on him. “Your parents weren’t around to give it to you.” His lips tightened. “Who looked after you after your father died?”
She blinked, her eyes luminous, as she folded her arms around herself. “I became a ward of the pack.”
In other words, everybody and nobody. Damn it, if he could get his hands on Rafe now, he’d do it for the lack of care shown to this lycan. His lycan. “You were just a juvenile,” he muttered.
She lifted her chin. “I could look after myself.”
“You shouldn’t have had to, not inside you
r pack,” he snapped, and regretted his outburst at her flinch. He’d tried to be good, to maintain a distance while he told her what had happened. Well, most of what had happened, and what it meant, but learning that she’d basically been abandoned, and had missed out on some critical lycan training angered him, and he hurt. He hurt for his she-wolf. He ached for her. He was through being good. Right now she needed a mate.
He reached for her, but they both froze at an earsplitting scream. Trinity’s wide eyes met his for a moment, then she took off running.
“Jax,” she cried.
* * *
He sprinted after her, his long legs overtaking her and racing through the underbrush. His heart hammered in his chest as his stride ate up the distance. Adrenaline calmed the effects of the imprint, and he was able to sniff the air, hunting down the pup. “Jax!”
He heard a faint, answering cry, and swiftly changed direction, jumping over logs and boulders, even a babbling creek, until he reached the limit of the rocky ridge. He skidded to a stop, gravel falling over the edge as he peered over the rock.
Jax clung to an exposed tree root, his face white with terror. The ridge dropped away sharply, a thirty-foot drop to the valley below. Cascading water from the creek above fell, creating a cool mist as it tumbled down the rocks to a frothy pool below.
Trinity came racing out of the undergrowth, and he flung out his arm to prevent her from going over. “Jax,” she gasped.
“Trinity,” the little boy cried.
“It’s okay, Jax,” Matthias called out to the boy. “I need you to stay calm. Can you do that for me? Brave and calm.”
Jax nodded, although his lip trembled. Matthias turned to Trinity. Her face was pale, but her expression was determined, calm. He couldn’t help but admire her fortitude.
Jax was just out of his reach. He’d need to climb down.
“Maybe I should climb down to him,” she suggested.
“No. I won’t risk your life.” He wasn’t going to put his she-wolf in danger. If anyone was going to climb down the rock face, it would be him. He sat down and slid his legs over the edge.