by H G Lynch
When he still didn’t answer, I took another step forward and put my hands flat against his chest. His skin was burning hot against my skin, even through his t-shirt. His jaw was tight, nostrils flaring.
I asked again, “Why shouldn’t I say things like that, Spencer?”
He groaned again, lowering his arm from his face. His eyes were closed. Blindly, but without fumbling, he grasped my wrists and pulled my hands off his body, closing them inside his own fingers, so I couldn’t touch. “Because,” he said, his voice lower than I’d ever heard it before, “You are vulnerable right now, and I’m…not entirely in control.”
He leaned his head back against the wall of the cabin, opening his eyes. He looked straight up at the ceiling, but I could see his eyes were burning molten gold. He blinked once, twice, and again, and I finally saw a flicker of blue in the gold.
Butterflies beat at my stomach, trying to fly out my mouth, and I blushed hot. He was still clasping my hands in his, and I bowed my head so he wouldn’t see me smile. “Spencer, do you remember what you said to me earlier?” I asked, slightly breathless. I felt him look down at me.
“Yes.”
He didn’t say anything more, so I rolled my eyes and prompted, “What did you say to me?”
Silently, he stared at me until I glanced up. His eyes were shifting from blue to gold and back, his expression unreadable. He released my hands slowly, one finger at a time. I swallowed, afraid he was going to turn away, or act as if he didn’t understand what I wanted to hear.
He took my face, very lightly, in his hands and rested his forehead against mine. He kept his bright, shifting gaze on mine as he murmured, “I said I love you.”
My heart jumped, and I curled my fingers into his forearms. “Did you mean that?”
His answering smile was delicate and beautiful as gossamer, lighting his eyes to a breathtaking blue, filled with sparks of gold. “I don’t say things I don’t mean,” he said quietly.
My heart lodged in my throat, and I had to close my eyes against the intensity of his gaze. I felt as if he was searing me all the way down to my soul.
My voice a ragged whisper, I said, “Then kiss me. Please.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, and I felt the shudder that rolled through his body. Voice rough with equal parts regret and desire, he growled, “I can’t.”
“You can,” I insisted. “Kiss me, Spencer. Just one kiss.”
He made a choked noise, and I realised I was dangerously close to pleading, but I didn’t care. I wanted to finish what we’d started earlier, forbidden or not. I was burning with the need to feel his lips and hands on my body like before. He was the only one I could truly trust, he was the only one who understood, the one who could make me forget what I was, who I was, and what I’d done.
But he didn’t want to. He loved me, but when I wanted him to kiss me, needed him to distract me, he refused. He let go of my face and pried my hands gently off his arms, stepping back. I stood for a moment with my eyes closed, and bit my lip, unwilling to let him see the tears building behind my lids.
In a cracked voice, I asked, “Why?”
Spencer blew out his breath. “I can’t.” he said again.
I turned away, opening my eyes to glare at the floor. My vision blurred as tears clung to my lashes. I hugged my arms around myself and shook my head. “Why not? You did earlier.”
I sounded petulant to my own ears, pathetic, and I felt the tears begin to slide down my cheeks. I bit my lip so hard, I tasted blood on my tongue, trying to stifle the whimper rising in my throat. He sighed, and I felt him move up behind me. He tried to put a hand on my shoulder, but I ducked away from it.
He said softly, “Earlier, you weren’t upset about finding out your mother wasn’t your real mother. Earlier, you hadn’t just lost Dominic. You want me to kiss you now, so you don’t have to think about it, to take away the pain. But it doesn’t work like that. It’ll take away the pain for a while, but it’ll come back. I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re upset, Tilly.”
A tear fell off my chin, and I watched it hit the floor. I hugged myself tighter. He was right, of course. But it didn’t mean it hurt any less to be rejected. I should have been glad he had the decency a lot of guys wouldn’t, but I just felt stung instead.
Carefully, ignoring the way I flinched, Spencer put his hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him, wrapping his arms around me gently. I stood stiff, but unresisting, in his arms, until he started humming into my hair again, a tune I didn’t recognise. Slowly, I relaxed against him and laid my head on his shoulder. He stroked my hair soothingly, his fingers untangling the snarls in it.
“I will kiss you again, Tilly, I swear. Just not right now. Make up with Dominic tomorrow, let me see that you’re okay, and then I’ll kiss you until you’re dizzy.” There was a lilt of amusement in his dark voice.
I buried my faint smile in his chest. “You promise?” I murmured, my voice muffled against his collarbone.
“I promise.”
With a sigh, I pulled myself away from him. His fingers clung to the ends of my hair, a smile hanging on his lips.
“Fine,” I grumbled sulkily. “Tomorrow. I’m going to bed now.”
He grinned, dropped a light kiss on my forehead, and shooed me off toward my room. “Goodnight, Tilly. Sweet dreams.”
I flipped him off as I closed my bedroom door, and heard him chuckle on the other side. I undressed, slipped into my pyjamas, and brushed my hair before getting into my bed. I left the Charm necklace on, curling my fingers around the Spelled pebble as I lay down. It was warm and alive in my hand. My pillow still smelled faintly of Spencer from the night before. I snuggled into it, and fell asleep smiling.
** Spencer **
Unable and unwilling to sleep, Spencer lay sprawled on the sofa in Tilly’s cabin, staring at the rays of moonlight crawling along the shadowy beams holding up the roof. If he listened carefully, he could hear her steady breathing in the room down the hall, hear her whimpering as nightmares plagued her. He knew by then, from standing watch outside her cabin for several nights, that she often had nightmares. They weren’t what he was looking out for, he was just there to make sure she didn’t sleepwalk into the witches’ clutches.
Okay. That wasn’t the only reason he was there. That was just his excuse. He wanted to be there…well, not that spot specifically, on the sofa. But he’d meant what he’d said to Tilly. He wasn’t entirely in control of himself. He hadn’t been all day. That much had been obvious when he’d kissed her by the stream that morning, kissed her almost desperately. He’d felt desperate. He’d felt breathless ,too hot, and hungry. He’d kissed her as if he was starving for the taste of her lips…after telling her he loved her.
With a groan, he tossed his arm over his face, pushing away the memories of Tilly’s body pressed flush against his. He couldn’t believe he’d told her he loved her. He hadn’t meant to, not like that and not yet. It had just slipped out, and it wasn’t the kind of thing he could just take back. Not that he would if he could. It was true, he loved Tilly. It seemed insane, so insane he hardly believed it himself. Two weeks. He’d only known her for two weeks, and already the thought of giving her up, holding her at a distance because what he felt was forbidden, it made him feel sick.
The fact that she hadn’t said it back, hadn’t told him she loved him too, should have made him nervous. It didn’t. He didn’t expect her to say it back, not yet. She’d had so much to deal with, between him admitting his love for her, to the falling out with Dominic, to her realisation about her mother. She needed time to figure things out, and he understood that. She would tell him how she felt eventually. He could wait.
He could also wait until she was less vulnerable to kiss her again. He would wait, even if it took days, or a week, or a month. Even if he wanted nothing more than to go into her room, wake her up, and kiss her until she was dizzy as he’d promised her, as she’d asked him to do. He wanted to taste her lips, f
eel the softness of her body, the heat of her skin, and smell her desire for him.
Rolling over sharply, Spencer buried his face in the sofa cushions and growled, his hands fisted over his head. No, he was definitely not in control of himself. Restless, he shoved himself off the sofa and paced the cabin silently. He opened a window to let in the cool night air, hoping it would help cool his burning skin. The sun was starting to come up, staining the tops of the trees amber. The air coming in the window smelled fresh, damp and green, and he sucked it into his lungs.
Deciding it was probably safe to leave, because if the witches were able to Summon Tilly, they’d have done it by then, Spencer hunted around the cabin until he found a pen and paper. He scribbled a note and left it on the dining table for Tilly to find when she woke up. Then, with the Change already biting at his heels, he threw himself out of the window and hit the ground running, with his front paws sliding on the dewy leaves.
Spencer ran fast, exhausting the burning in his body, running out his most primal instincts. He ran until he reached the edge of his pack’s territory, the border between Their Land and the Other Pack’s Land. He ran along the border until he reached the stream, far deeper and rougher than it was nearer the cabins. Then he followed the stream back to base, and slunk through the trees to his cabin. Sides heaving, he padded up to his porch, claws clicking on the warped, aging wood, and he Changed back. Sweat coated his human skin, and the cool late summer breeze lifted goose bumps on his arms and legs. Panting, he fumbled with the door handle, his hands shaking from the exertion of the exercise and the Change.
Before he could get the door of his cabin open, someone called his name, and he froze. With an internal sigh, he turned. At the bottom of the steps, Frank stood with his thick arms crossed over his wide chest, looking up at his son with cold grey-green eyes. Faint lines rayed out from the corners of his eyes and mouth, and formed wormlike grooves across his forehead as he scowled. Spencer wasn’t worried—his dad always wore that expression around him.
“Frank.” Spencer dipped his chin in a respectful greeting.
Frank’s lips tightened under the bristles of his thick moustache. Spencer never called him Dad to his face, and he didn’t call him Sir like some of the other pack members.
With a jerk of his chin, Frank grunted, about the most civil greeting Spencer warranted. “Get dressed,” the man said gruffly. “We’re meeting with the other pack, and you need to be there.”
At that, Spencer blinked in surprise. “Why do I need to be there?” he asked, not defiantly, but with real curiosity. Normally, Frank barely allowed him to meetings within their own pack, let alone a meeting with another pack. It made Spencer suspicious. Something was up.
As if to confirm Spencer’s unease, Frank smiled at his least favourite son. It wasn’t a pleasant smile, nothing like the proud looks or amused grins he gave his other sons. It was more…vindictive. If it hadn’t come from the alpha, Spencer would have bristled. As it was, he got a nasty acid feeling on his tongue and swallowed it.
With narrowed eyes, Frank said with deliberate distinctness, “You need to be there to meet your future mate.”
Expressionless, Spencer waited for the punch line. He waited eight heart beats, nine, ten… Frank was still watching him with that unpleasant smile. Slowly, it sunk in that Frank wasn’t joking just to piss Spencer off. He was serious. Spencer’s hands curled into fists, knuckles cracking as his nails lengthened into claws.
Through sharpening, gritted teeth, he ground out, “What do you mean…my mate?” His voice was as quiet as ever, but a guttural growl rose from his throat.
Frank’s smile widened, a sign of cruel amusement. “To end the territory feud with the other pack, we agreed to join with them. You know that. A pack joining can only be facilitated by the joining of one pack member to a member of the other pack. The other pack has too many females and not enough males. As one of our strongest young wolves, you were the obvious choice for the joining.” It might have sounded like a compliment, but it was a stab in the back.
Nostrils flaring with rage, Spencer felt his jaw pop. His claws sliced gouges in his palms, and his finger joints crackled. A growl rose from the depths of his gut, rumbling through his ribs and rattling his teeth. His ears lengthened and pressed flat against his head. He bared his teeth, eyes flashing gold.
“You used me. You sold me off to securrre the pack’s terrrritorrry! You bastarrrd!” Red mist descended over his vision. His spine arched, and he shut his eyes, fighting the Change. Spencer couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so furious, the last time he’d felt so betrayed. Anger was burning a hole in his gut, his growling shredding his throat.
Frank just stood there, watching with a cruel gleam in his eyes. Spencer had never hated his father as much as he did right then.
“You’ve been promised to a very attractive, healthy girl. She’ll be turning eighteen in a couple of months, and then you and she will be mated, and the packs will join. Call it taking one for the team, if you must.”
Promised? Mated? Promised to a girl he’d never even met. Promised to be mated to her. Wolves mated for life, and it was meant to be the same for werewolves. That was why it was such a big deal that Spencer’s mother had left Frank. Spencer could not—would not—be forced into a relationship he didn’t want. Especially not when he was just starting a relationship he did want—with Tilly.
Oh God. Tilly. How was he supposed to tell her about this? How could he possibly explain it? He loved her. He wanted to be with her, whether or not it was forbidden.
“I won’t do it,” Spencer hissed. Then louder, he snarled, “I won’t do it, Frank. I’m not going to be married off to some girl I’ve never even met, not for the pack and not just because you say so! Dammit, Frank, I’m your son, whether you like it or not. I’m not a chess piece you can just make do whatever you want!”
“Actually,” Frank said evenly, “as your alpha, I can make you obey commands. If you won’t do what’s best for the pack, I will order you to.”
Spencer glared, his muscles spasming as he tried to hold off the Change. “You’ll have to order me, Frank. Because I’ll leave the pack before giving myself up for the good of people who don’t understand me.”
Frank shook his head, grimacing. “I know you would. That’s why I waited until now to tell you. And that’s why I’m ordering you not to leave this pack, Spencer. You will not abandon this pack the way your mother did.”
“My mother didn’t abandon the pack! She abandoned you! She was running away from you, because she didn’t love you anymore, because you’re a heartless bastard when you want to be, and because you’re the kind of man who puts his pack before his own son!” Spencer roared.
He didn’t see the way Frank flinched, because he abruptly burst out of his human skin, losing the fight against his inner wolf. In his rage, he Changed so fast, he barely felt the agony of his bones snapping and muscles ripping. Everything went red, for a second, then white, then black. The next thing he knew, he was lunging for Frank’s throat, a savage snarl tearing from his elongated wolf jaws.
Puffing up his chest and growling back, Frank didn’t move a muscle as his son flew at him—all teeth, claws, and murderous rage. Raising his voice above the sound of Spencer’s snarling, he said one word, “Stop!”
The full will of the alpha crashed down on Spencer, and he fell to the ground inches from ripping Frank’s face off. He hit the dirt, belly touching the ground, and his vicious snarling choked off into a pathetic whine. He struggled against it, the alpha’s voice of command, but it hurt. It hurt like the Change, to fight his alpha, and he was worn out from his run, from not sleeping the previous night, and from suddenly bursting out of his human skin.
Looking down at him with those steely, merciless eyes, Frank said firmly, “You will not leave this pack. You will meet this girl today. When the time comes, you will marry the girl you are promised to. You will do what is best for this pack, Spencer.”
; Each word, in each command, hit Spencer like a brick, breaking a little more of his will and shattering his ability to resist.
Frank’s face softened and his voice lost the tone of command. “I’m sorry, Spencer. But this is how it has to be. It had to be you.” Frank turned and walked away, leaving him whimpering on the ground.
Spencer laid his head on his paws, unable to ask why, why it had to be him. He didn’t have to ask. He already knew. It had to be him, because if it were Dominic or Desmond, they would never forgive their father for taking away their choices. Frank had never cared whether Spencer forgave him for the things he did to him or not, which was just as well, because Spencer had never forgiven him for any of it. Not for ignoring him when he was a kid, not for whipping his big hand across his face when Spencer did something wrong or talked back, not for treating him like crap because his mother had broken the man’s heart and wounded his alpha pride. He would never forgive Frank for taking away his freedom and his choices by taking away the possibility of Tilly and what he could have had. What he had to say goodbye to before it had even started.
Because he couldn’t be with Tilly, not when he was doomed to be married off to another girl. If he even clung to her for the few months he had, it would only be worse. It would only make it harder when they had to end it. He’d be breaking her heart, while he broke his own, and that was something he wouldn’t do. That was something he still had the power to avoid. He could make her hate him again. Just thinking about doing it made him want to throw up, but he’d do it to save her the pain later. He would do anything to save her.
Chapter Twenty Two
** Tilly **
Spencer was gone when I woke up, and morning sunlight shone through the windows onto the note sitting on the dining table. The cabin was bright and warm, the floorboards smooth under my bare feet as I padded across to the table. Smiling, I picked up the note and unfolded it. I was unsurprised to find Spencer’s handwriting was neat and careful.