“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” he asked in that gravelly voice she loved.
She took the last step separating them, leaving only an inch between them, so close his scent of exotic wildflowers filled her senses. She leaned forward to sniff along his neck, then whispered, “No, but if we’re going to do this, we might as well go all in, right?”
She wasn’t sure whether she was being brave or stupid, but she wanted to live, and he and the others made her feel alive for the first time since her mother died when she was ten.
Her gaze dropped to his lips. The top lip was firm, but the bottom begged her to lean closer and taste. The scuff on his jaw made him appear even more dangerous, and though it made no sense, she found him fucking hot. As she looked up into his bright green eyes from under her lashes, she knew he would never make the first move, never put her in danger, and she found the thought of being in charge sexy as hell.
Very gently, she lifted her hands to his face, then trailed her fingertips lightly along the angles. The scruff on his face felt surprisingly rough, prickling along her fingertips playfully. He was all muscles and angles, so different from her softness. His breathing became ragged, and he carefully watched her from under hooded eyes for any indication that she was about to drop. When she ran her thumb along his bottom lip, his eyes slid close, and he leaned into her touch.
Then she drew back, rubbing her fingertips together, the toxins he produced had left a light film that smelled fantastic. When she looked up, it was to find him watching her critically once more, no doubt searching for symptoms.
“You’re still standing.” He lifted his hand to her face, but stopped short of touching her.
The yearning in his eyes was so painful, she wanted to give him something in return. “Do it. I know my limits.” She placed her hand on his chest, surprised by the firmness under his shirt. She then lifted her face to his and threw his words back at him. “Touch me.”
Keeping his eyes glued to hers, searching for any doubt, his fingers shook as he gently touched her face, then his eyes followed his fingers like he wanted to absorb everything. His touch was so light, she barely felt his fingers, gooseflesh spreading over her whole body.
“I didn’t know touch could feel good,” she murmured.
Much too soon, his fingers vanished, and her eyes popped open.
She hadn’t even been aware of closing them.
Though his face was hard, his heart thundered wildly under her palm, giving him away. His eyes were alive with some unnamed emotion, but he didn’t touch her again.
“We should join the others.” His husky voice was barely above a whisper.
He was right.
She retreated, her legs slightly unsteady, which had nothing to do the toxins in his blood and everything to do with him.
He scowled at her, not missing a thing. “You’re—”
“Fine.” She gave him a smile, and patted his chest once, before reluctantly dropping her hand. And shivered, instantly missing his warmth. “Should we join the others?”
At the mention of the rest of the guys, a shutter fell over his face, and he gestured for her to go first.
* * *
Pack grá.
Camden clenched and unclenched his fists as he watched Annora join the others, his beast demanding that he follow and stake his claim. Logan had been insisting she was their grá, but he hadn’t believed the kitsune—until now.
They were so rare they might as well be a myth.
It was whispered that the grá was born specifically for her males.
A perfect match.
He swallowed hard at the idea of her being his to touch whenever he wanted, his to protect and keep safe, his to worship—his perfect woman.
He thought Logan had been exaggerating, wanting to cause trouble, but the way Annora calmly touched him with barely any side effects, then casually walked away, devastated him.
He should he happy.
Hell, he should be fucking ecstatic.
Instead, the little slip of a girl scared the fucking ever living hell out of him. If he was wrong and he touched her…he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t take the risk.
She was reckless.
Impulsive.
And too fucking young and innocent for the likes of him.
No, he needed to keep his distance. Pack grá or not, she was dangerous. She had the power to destroy what was left of the team without lifting a finger. The others were already fascinated with her, falling under her awkward charm. Until he knew what she was hiding, the secrets she refused to share, he needed to harden his heart.
No matter what he felt, it was his job to protect the others…even if they would come to hate him for it.
Even if he would come to hate himself and destroy his one chance at true happiness.
* * *
When Annora opened the door to the patio, all the guys jolted to their feet. She made her way over to an empty spot on one of the five benches circling the pit. It was late afternoon, the sky cloudy, the air brisk. The warmth of the flames was welcoming.
She’d never been around a large fire, and couldn’t help but be fascinated as the flames consumed the logs, feeling awed by the power, respecting and admiring the destructive force.
“What happened today?” Camden sat on the bench next to hers, but directed his question to Logan.
“Ellora was at the mall.”
Silence reigned for a moment.
“Annora objected to her bloody form of affection. One minute they were there, the next they were both gone.” Logan lit a cigarette with shaky fingers, then inhaled deeply, only relaxing slightly after he blew out a puff of smoke. “They disappeared for fifteen fucking minutes. I thought she was gone. By the time I spotted them again, it was too late. Ellora had managed to get a direct hit. I’m not sure how she’s even alive, but Annora just calmly stood there and fucking smiled.”
He gave a choked laugh, but there was no humor in the shattered sound. When the others looked at her like she was crazy, she just shrugged her good shoulder. “She was pissing me off. I warned her to keep her hands off Logan, and she didn’t. I warned her to stay away from me, and she didn’t.” Annora met Logan’s gaze directly. “I warned her what will happen if she comes after you again. This time, she will listen. She’s released you from your vows.”
“What?” Logan gave a strangled yelp, and the cigarette that had been casually dangling between his fingertips hit the ground, the small, glowing tip shattering into sparks on impact.
Annora turned away from him and watched the flames again. “I know what it’s like to be trapped. To never have a future. Never have a life of your own. Now you’re free to make your own choices…whatever they may be.”
“Fuck me.” The words were choked. Then he leaned forward until his head was between his knees, sucking in deep gulps of air, as if he couldn’t find enough oxygen. “Fuck me.” He gripped his hair with both hands, then seemed to freeze as he stared at the ground.
Annora glanced at him in concern, then looked at the others.
Camden pursed his lips as he stared at his friend, then raised a brow at her, as if asking for help.
She gave a nod.
Whatever he needed, she would give it freely if it was in her power.
“Annora, you need to go inside and rest in preparation for tonight. Logan will help you to your room while the rest of us go over the plans.”
Logan cleared his throat twice before he nodded and stood. He didn’t look at anyone else as he came to a stop next to her. As she rose to her feet, her heart lurched when she noticed his red-rimmed eyes. They were silent as they entered the house, and she couldn’t get over the feeling that she’d fucked something up.
At the top of the stairs, he shoved his hands in his back pockets, and she saw he still wore his bloodstained shirt. “I’m sorry if I stepped out of line, but I can’t stand to see others being tortured.”
She tugged at the hem
of his shirt where it had become untucked. “Go shower and put on some fresh clothes…” When he didn’t look at her or protest, she playfully pushed him. “Then come back here and fix my door.”
He nodded robotically and disappeared down the stairs. She slumped down on the bed, suddenly exhausted. She knew she needed to go into the afterworld to heal faster, but she was afraid of what awaited her.
She stretched out along the bed, and the three ferrets immediately jumped up to join her, snagging the blanket at the bottom of the bed to pull it over her. Then they curled around her, offering what comfort they could. Scraping together what little courage she had left, she allowed the darkness to rise to the surface—not enough to pull her in the afterworld, but just enough for it to fill her.
Her skin tingled, as if someone was trying into stitch her flesh together with a butter knife, and she welcomed the pain like an old friend. What was really fucked up was that she almost craved it—the pain had kept her alive for so long, she didn’t feel whole without it.
The pain was almost pleasurable as it gradually faded, and she reluctantly released the darkness. The toxins in her system, along with the partial healing, took a lot out of her since she refused to enter the afterworld, and she allowed sleep to claim her. It was only when the bed dipped that she startled awake. The scent of winter eased the panic lodged in her throat, and she twisted to see Logan sitting by her bed with a laptop across his knees.
“What are you doing?”
“Watching over you.” He didn’t even glance up from his work. “Go back to sleep. You’re safe.”
Annora hesitated for a second when his pale blue eyes finally lifted. “Unless you want to talk.”
It was a threat.
Annora grunted, then flipped her hair out of her face as she turned to stare up at the ceiling. “Might as well get it over with.”
He didn’t waste a second, his face shutting down as he turned toward her. “What the fuck were you thinking!?! A fire kitsune can destroy anything with their flames when they get mad. She could’ve killed you. And for what? You—”
“Did you know I went seven years without once setting foot outside my dingy little hole in the ground? Without even being able to look outside a window? When I finally managed to escape, I was almost too scared of the outside world to leave.” She crossed her legs at her ankle, hating the way her guts churned with the memories. “I know what a blade feels like against my flesh, how deep it can cut before I lose feeling, how a whip can shred muscle, what fists can do to my body. I know how long it takes my hair to grow back after it’s been burned off, not to mention my eyebrows. I know how fire can melt my flesh, how long it takes for my bones to knit back together. That it can take over a month for my vision to return after a blowtorch has seared my eyeballs. I know how many days I can go without sleep, how little food my body needs before it shuts down, and that a person can be desperate enough to drink out of a backed-up toilet.”
The pressure in her chest threatened to crush her as she struggled with the memories, and she forced herself to focus on her breathing. “I also know I wanted to kill the bitch. I watched her soul literally being sucked from her body, and I enjoyed it. You might think you’re broken, but you’re not. You still have your soul. And if I have any say in the matter, you’ll keep it.”
She turned her back on him, and the small spark of life she’d been nurturing flickered dangerously. She felt dead inside, struggled to feel anything…struggled to feel human for even a second. “You can yell at me all you want, but it was worth it.”
Even if it cost her a piece of her soul.
Chapter Eleven
Rough hands grabbed her, jerking her around until she was pressed against a hard chest. She wiggled to get away, but no matter how much she pushed and shoved, his hold only tightened. Panic squeezed her throat as she fought not to drown in her nightmares.
“Shhhh, I got you. I got you.”
She gradually became aware Logan was speaking, rocking her gently, but his scent was what grounded her to the present. To her surprise, she found herself gradually relaxing against him. If anything, his hold tightened more, as if he was afraid she’d disappear.
After a few minutes, true exhaustion hit, but she was terrified to fall asleep. She was tired of fighting for each second of freedom. Just tired of everything. “Talk to me.”
There was a slight pause, then he spoke barely above a whisper, careful not to break the fragile cocoon of peace built around them.
“I’m the youngest of seven children. I was born as an afterthought, specifically to be used to advance my pack’s standing. Even before I was born, I was sold to a rival pack to do with what they would—a guard, a possible mate or even a slave. I was dispensable. Disposable. The only concession granted to me was I could finish my training at the university.”
“Ellora.” She didn’t have to guess. Not wanting to ruin the moment, she held still. “How much time did you have left?”
“Six months,” he said. He absently ran his hand along her back, so light she barely felt it. She wasn’t even sure he was aware of doing it, his touch enough to lure her back from the sharp edges of her memories. “The end of the school year.”
She gingerly lifted her hand and rested it low on his stomach. “Did I make things worse?”
“I’m not sure,” he mused. “I was born for one specific role. If she retracts her claim, they’ll most likely disown me.”
Annora froze, acid trying to eat a hole through her gut. “I’m so sorry. I—”
He squeezed her tight before she could continue, and she’d swear his lips brushed the top of her head. “I would give up all my family’s wealth and status in a heartbeat if that’s what it took to be free of them.”
It was the steady beat of his heart beneath her ear that convinced her.
He tangled his fingers in her flyaway hair, a bemused expression on his face when it seemed to cling to him. Then he plucked at the ruined sleeve of her shirt. “Will you let me clean you up?”
For a moment, she snuggled against him, not wanting to leave the safety of his arms, not wanting to face the real world. Then she finally relented and straightened. “How about food instead? A late meal? I’m starved, and I’m sure everyone will want to eat. I’ll shower, then come down to join you.”
He waited for a full minute before rising from the bed, but instead of leaving, he came to a stop next to her, leaned down, and kissed the top of her head. “Twenty minutes, or I’ll send Mason after you again.”
He sauntered toward the stairs, then disappeared, leaving her staring after him, her emotions like a jitterbug in her stomach. What the hell was she doing with them? They were getting too close, making her feel things she never dreamed possible, and she wasn’t sure it was such a good idea.
What would happen to them when the creature hunting her from the afterworld finally caught up with her? At first she thought it wanted to kill her, but now she feared something far worse, because whatever was chasing her didn’t have to lift a finger to destroy her—she was doing it herself. Every time she went into the afterworld, she lost a little more of her humanity.
She had no ties to this world, her tenuous feelings for the guys the only thing between her and the pull of the darker side of her nature that was trying to turn her into an unstoppable monster.
As she collected one of the last few remaining outfits from her bag and headed toward the repaired bathroom door, she knew what she told Ellora wasn’t the truth.
She could be killed just as easily as anyone else.
But something in the afterworld kept bringing her back.
For now.
It would stop when it got what it wanted…full possession of her soul.
* * *
By the time she showered and entered her room, she saw the ferrets racing across the floor, dragging a full bag of chips behind them. She couldn’t help but stop and gawk at the spectacle, the thieves had no doubt raided the kitchen.
She squatted down, playing a quick game of tug-of-war with them, before she won possession of the bag. They rose on their hind legs, begging to have it back, and she rolled her eyes. “Junk food is bad for you.”
But she didn’t have the heart to keep it. She opened the bag, then set it back down with the warning, “Don’t make a mess.”
Without another protest, the three dove inside the bag, starting an all-out rumble as they fought over who got to shove the most chips in their mouths.
She lifted her arm, testing the movement, pleased to feel only a pang of stiffness. The injury was almost completely gone, even the scar was fading. By that evening, it should be all but gone. She turned and came to an abrupt stop when she saw the bed was full of boxes and bags, so many they spilled across the floor.
Instead of pleasure, she nearly dove for the stairs.
A single card rested on the half wall, and she approached it warily.
To make up for the ruined day.
Then just below that.
Don’t forget your promise.
Logan…but she didn’t know how he found the time to organize anything in the few hours since their return, but she had no doubt it was him. She gingerly opened the first box…and smiled to see a comfortable pair of jeans. She could tell by the look and feel that they were created for comfort, which meant expensive. She peered into the other bags and boxes. Most of them had piles of T-shirts, jeans, a few fancier tops that looked classy and sexy, not to mention about a dozen hoodies.
She blushed when she found three whole bags full of an assortment of underwear, everything from skimpy to see-through to boy shorts, plus a number of camisoles and bras. Everything was in her size. She shook her head and slumped against the half wall of the stairs, overwhelmed by his generosity and the sharp changes her life had taken.
Tethered to the World: A Phantom Touched Novel Page 11