Her eyes fluttered open to see Logan standing next to the bed, his chest heaving, his eyes wild. She struggled against the impulse to lash out at her tormentor. She panted, the phantom pain clouding her mind, and she realized she held one of his blades in her palm. She forced her hand to release the weapon, the metal clanking to the ground, horrified to realize she could’ve hurt him.
She grabbed Logan’s arm and clung to him, desperate to banish the memories that wanted to suck her back into the nightmare. She focused on steadying her breathing as the cold scent of winter filled her lungs, grounding her in the present.
By the time she got herself under control, Logan was sitting on the edge of her bed, holding her tightly against him, as if afraid she would shatter and vanish if he let go. She blinked up at him, not liking the utterly helpless expression on his face and forced a small smile, glad to focus on anything other than the past. “We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”
He gave a watery snort just as Camden’s gruff voice broke the silence, “What the fuck was that?”
She jerked upright to see the rest of the guys standing around the bed. Mason was partially shifted, his need to do violence a living, breathing thing. Camden was pale and shaken, refusing to blink as he stared at her.
Xander looked stoic, intimately familiar with the aftereffects of torture, but a muscle ticking in his jaw betrayed just how disturbed he was to experience her nightmares firsthand.
“You heard me scream?” Annora hated the tremor in her voice.
Shame heated her cheeks, and she couldn’t bear to look at them.
She tried to pull away from Logan, but he refused to let her retreat. The ferrets squirmed into her lap, clinging to her in an effort to offer her comfort, and she dropped her gaze to her hands, hating the small tremor that shook her fingers.
Mason grunted as if struck, Logan huffed, while Camden hissed.
Only Xander didn’t react. “That was your uncle.”
Her head snapped up, her mouth opening in surprise, then she blanched in horror. “Our connection…I pulled you into my dreams.”
She didn’t mind the lack of privacy. After so many years of loneliness, she welcomed the closeness, but she wanted to spare them reliving the nightmare of her past.
Instead of answering, she glanced at the stairs, the need to run and hide an itch under her skin once again. She wanted to ghost, vanish from the world, but instinct said whatever was hunting her in the afterworld was waiting for her, the dream having drawn him close, too.
Logan cleared his throat, then reached for the end table behind him. He flicked his fingers over the screen on the tablet he held before handing it to her. He scooted back until he was resting against the wall, then casually reached over and plopped her in his lap, her back to his front, her body between his spread legs.
She stiffened for all of two seconds, then leaned back into his embrace. His arms encircled her, lifted the tablet that sat in her nerveless fingers, then pressed the arrow frozen in the center of the screen.
The sounds of a movie began to play.
The rest of the tension went out of her. While she had limited access to the internet, her weakness was movies. She was fully engrossed by the time the rest of the guys climbed up on the bed.
Almost imperceptibly slow, as if afraid she’d spook, they curled around her—their touch grounded her, tethered her in the land of the living. The ferrets huffed at being displaced, scrambling around the bed before settling by her feet, having somehow stolen a bag of chips from somewhere and were busy pillaging their prize.
One scrambled up her leg and dropped a chip in her lap before scurrying back. She smiled and popped the chip in her mouth, having eaten far less unsavory and unsanitary things during her life in her cell…one of her uncle’s many punishments.
Before she knew it, she was startled awake, the morning light streaming through the attic room. All four guys were stretched out around her. Logan was crunched up behind her, still holding her even in his sleep. Mason was half on the floor, his body contorted awkwardly. Xander lay curled up next to her, using her stomach as a pillow, his one hand resting possessively on her thigh.
Camden was at the foot of the bed, careful not to touch the others. To her surprise, he had her feet in his lap, as if he needed to make sure she was all right even in sleep. While her skin tingled, she barely felt the toxin in his touch.
Instead of feeling crowded or smothered, their touch calmed her and kept the nightmares at bay. She loved the heat of them, the comfort they gave without being asked.
Like she mattered.
And she lost her heart to them, fully and completely.
She’d never thought she would find anyone, much less four someones, but they broke past her walls, blasted away her resolve to keep to herself.
They gave her a reason to survive.
She carefully eased away from them, tugging on a pair of jeans before tiptoeing down to the kitchen, intending to thank them for everything by cooking them breakfast.
She copied Logan—chopped the vegetables, cracked the eggs, pulled out the bread—and that’s where everything went to hell.
Ten minutes later the fire alarm blared, immediately followed by a stampede of feet on the stairs. The guys burst into the room, sleep lines still etched on their faces. Their hair was wild and sticking up, their clothes wrinkled, and she felt awful.
Logan flashed her a giant grin, grabbed a towel, and began pulling things off the stove. Mason unplugged the toaster, waving the smoke away, then tipped it upside down and began sticking a fork into the machine until he emerged with a pitch-black, shrunken hockey puck that was supposed to be toast.
Camden sighed, but there was a slight smirk on his face when he went for the alarm, shutting it off before he began opening the windows and doors.
Her heart sank at the mess she made of everything, the wonderful breakfast she had planned ruined.
“Are you hurt?” Xander edged her away from the chaos, his teal eyes dark with concern as his gaze swept over her.
She blinked up at him, then shook her head. “No, I’m fine.”
But instead of retreating, he caught her wrists and lifted up her hands. She’d nicked herself more than a few times. Who knew stabbing someone was easier than chopping vegetables? The other hand had a couple of welts. In theory, she knew the pan and stove would be hot, but it was her organizational skills that were lacking…dropping things, knocking others over, spilling things. Trying to catch and clean up her mess only made everything worse.
Xander tightened his lips, then spun her around and hauled her toward the kitchen sink, holding her hands under cold running water. He watched her from the corner of his eyes. “What were you doing?”
“Making everyone breakfast?” It came out sounding like a question, and she heaved a sigh. “To say thank you. For everything.” She shrugged as he turned off the water. “How can cooking be so hard?!”
Blood continued to well up from the cuts, but it was sluggish.
“You really don’t feel pain?” Mason sounded hesitant.
“Don’t be daft. Of course she feels pain.” Xander huffed out an annoyed breath. “Some people have to learn to compartmentalize it or risk going insane.”
The rest of the guys fell silent and gathered around them. Despite just having woken up—or maybe because of it—they were sexy as fuck, standing around all rumpled and grumpy.
“Heal yourself.” Camden scowled and crossed his arms.
Annora rolled her eyes but did as she was told. A small speck of black mist swirled over the wounds before soaking in her flesh, sealing shut the injuries. The pain was just a pinch, more of a distraction, and she raised a brow at him. “Better?”
He heaved a sigh, as if exasperated, then he dropped his arms, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m going to hit the showers.”
Logan walked past her with an armful of vegetables she’d managed not to mangle or destroy. He kissed her absently on the cheek, the
n lifted his chin toward Mason. “Why don’t you head out and enjoy the tour of the forest you missed yesterday? Breakfast will be done by the time you get back.”
She stood still, completely shocked by his easy affection despite the closeness growing between them, her body humming with the need for more as he calmly stood in front of the sink and washed the food.
Xander, who was behind her, leaned forward, and placed his lips on her neck, nipping at her playfully, then nudged her toward Mason. “Behave. We’ll train more when you get back.”
She opened and closed her mouth, only able to blink when he casually walked away.
Then Mason was there, his smile so very sweet, she swallowed hard.
“Ready?” His low voice resonated in her chest, sending her already overactive libido into overdrive. Was it polite to crawl up his body and give into the temptation to touch his horns? It wasn’t fair that only she was affected.
She must have been projecting some of her thoughts. Logan began choking on his laughter, while color swamped Mason’s cheeks…but it was the lust darkening his lavender eyes that made her breath catch.
Ever the gentleman, he offered his elbow, and she placed her hand on his forearm, charmed and taken off guard by the courtly gesture. As they strode into the sunshine, the cool morning air cleared her head a bit, and she breathed easier.
They turned onto the well-used trail and entered the forest, the sun dimming slightly as it filtered through the trees. The breeze died, and the outside noise quieted, drowned out by the rustling of leaves, the hum of insects and the chirp of birds.
As they walked, Mason began pointing at plants and trees, using scientific names she had no hope of remembering, explaining how the plants could be used, which ones were medicine, which ones were poison, which ones were edible, and which were a combination of all three.
It wasn’t long before she became hopelessly lost, but Mason’s steps were sure and confident, everything about him relaxed, his smile coming more easily, his eyes alive.
“You love being outdoors. Why did you leave your home and come to the university?”
She wished she’d kept her mouth shut when his peaceful expression closed down and his smile fell away.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”
He only shrugged. “You’re bound to find out eventually. I’m a half-breed. I’m not good for much to my people—I’m half their size and even less in terms of strength. I’m the weakling—which, if you know trolls, means I’m lucky I wasn’t eaten at birth. I’m worthless.”
Annora stopped dead and put her hands on her hips. It only took him a moment to notice she’d stopped following, and he turned around to face her, worry etched on his face.
She could only shake her head. “Please don’t tell me that you believe their bullshit.” She was so furious she was shaking.
“Annora—”
“Don’t Annora me! You will never convince me that they’re anything but idiots. You are one of the most intelligent, kind, wonderful people I know.” She couldn’t help noticing the way he flinched at each word.
What the actual fuck did they do to him?!
It wasn’t shyness or embarrassment, either. He actually appeared to be ashamed.
She began pacing, feeling the darkness rise in her, wanting to hunt down his family and punish them, and then glanced at his face and quickly switched tactics. “How do you know so much about plants?”
He shrugged, relieved at the change of subject. “I take a lot of classes. Plants—the outdoors—interest me. I pick up things easily.”
“No fucking kidding.” She peered up at him, calmer now he was talking. “What degree are you working toward?”
“A master’s in botany and wildlife management, a minor in husbandry and a few other things.” He looked away, his voice trailing off, and he began to walk the path again.
She had to scramble to catch up with him, his long strides quickly leaving her in his wake. She managed to plant herself in his path, barely avoiding getting mowed over in the process, and she glared up at him. “You know what I think? Smart is sexy.”
He stood frozen for a heartbeat, then something changed in his expression. One second he was standing several feet away, the next he was right in front of her. He bent, grabbing the back of her thighs then hauled her upright with an ease that made her feel weightless.
Then his mouth was on hers.
There was no finesse or gentleness, only ravenous hunger.
Unable to not touch him, she snaked her fingers into his hair, the strands wrapping around her like a caress. When her fingers gently brushed against the crown of his horns, a growl erupted from his chest, the intensity ratcheting up the desire a thousand degrees.
Her back hit a tree hard enough to jolt a groan of pleasure out of her, the rough bark digging into her spine, awaking all her nerve endings, making her feel things more deeply and powerfully. Fire burned along her veins, the need to be closer like an addiction.
Then a series of howls exploded around them.
Wolves.
Mason stiffened. Even before he pulled away and set her down, he began to shift, becoming massive as his human body practically exploded into his troll form. He lifted his head, sniffed the air, then turned toward her. “Run!”
Her eyes widened as at least a dozen wolves charged out of the trees. Annora hesitated, not wanting to leave him. “I can ghost us.”
But Mason wasn’t listening, barreling toward the wolves until he crashed into them. Three wolves went flying a good ten feet, a few yipping after what must have felt like being hit by a freight train. Then the wolves began to tear at him even as he picked them up, one by one, and ripped them apart.
She backed up, not wanting to leave him. Then he gave a roar of pain. Blood began to trickle down his body as claws and teeth slashed at him. She frantically scanned the area, picked up a hefty branch, ready to wade into the fight, when another wave of wolves streamed out of the trees.
Though he tried to stop them, it was obvious their main focus was getting to her.
Tears of frustration and anger flooded her eyes as she turned on her heel and ran.
It was the only way she could think of to save him.
Chapter Twenty-two
Mason panted, his senses returning as his baser urges to murder and destroy released their hold on him, and he scanned his surroundings to see the forest drenched with carnage, only breathing easier when he found no sign of Annora…or her body.
Dozens of wolves lay scattered around him, none of them moving. He lifted his head, scenting the air, nearly dropping to his knees when he was sure none of the blood was hers.
He hadn’t hurt her in his rampage.
As his logic returned in fits and starts, he began to track her. Then nearly cursed when he noticed she’d headed away from the house and farther into the woods.
His fault.
This was all his fault.
If he hadn’t wanted time alone with her, hadn’t wanted to show her that the forest he loved so much wasn’t a threat, she wouldn’t have been in danger. He picked up his pace and began running, uncaring that he was plowing through small trees and vegetation.
He reached for the connection between them and felt her ragged breathing…the fuckers were still chasing her.
He pushed the connection harder and reached for the guys. “If you can hear me, Annora is in trouble. She needs you.”
His thoughts were cut off when two wolves shot out of the forest, knocking into him with enough force to lay him flat on his back. Their fangs and claws sank deep into his flesh, and a bellow of pain escaped him. He kicked one in the face, bones crunching, tearing a chunk of flesh out of his thigh when the dog refused to release his hold when he flew back. He climbed to his feet, grabbed the wolf gnawing on the back of his neck by his scruff, and threw him across the clearing.
The beast gave a yip of pain, his spine cracking against the trunk of the tree, before he
dropped to the ground with a heavy thump and didn’t move. But by the time he took off again, the connection to Annora was completely gone.
The silence at the back of his mind was deafening, and his troll gave a roar of denial.
She was gone.
* * *
Annora raced through the trees, the slap of branches and twigs shredding her skin. The wolves kept pace with her, driving her forward, and instinct warned her she was being herded.
She could ghost and escape them, but they were too close to the house.
She couldn’t endanger the men.
For the first time in a long time, the pain in her chest brought her no pleasure. If she lost the men, she was very much afraid the darkness inside her would take over and consume everyone around her.
When she burst into the clearing, she wasn’t surprised to find Tyson and his group of goons in human form. The smug smile on the bastard’s face made her want to wipe it away. She pulled up short, skidding to a stop, her breathing raspy as she surveyed her opponents.
“Why are you doing this?” They couldn’t know who she was. Why target her?
Tyson raised a brow, his nasty smirk revealing wicked fangs that pierced his lips and drew blood. “Wolves have been denied their station for too long. This drug will show everyone that we belong on top of the food chain. We’re destined to be in charge.”
He strutted forward like a cocky rooster, and it was all she could do not to roll her eyes. “Do you even have any idea what the drug is doing to you? Do you honestly believe the others will stand aside and allow you to kill other shifters so you can get your fix?”
The audacity of the plan took her breath away.
“By the time the others figure it out, it’ll be too late. We’ll be in charge.” He closed the space between them, his eyes a feral yellow, the drug so rooted in his system he was fucking insane.
With every step he took, the darkness unfurled inside her.
When his eyes flickered behind her, his smile turned into a scowl.
Annora whirled, trying to ghost.
Only to have Terrance slam a rock against her temple so hard the world went dark.
Tethered to the World: A Phantom Touched Novel Page 25