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Wild Heart

Page 9

by C. R. Jane


  The toe of my shoe hit something just then, and I suddenly stumbled forward, my arms pinwheeling for balance. Quickly, I caught myself right before my face hit the ground, and I looked back to the uneven sidewalk, heat blazing over my cheeks at my clumsiness. It was even more awkward to be clumsy in a town full of shifters. I’d never seen anyone here be anything but graceful.

  Just another reason I should have known something was different about this town.

  I glanced back up and noticed someone watched me from across the road.

  His short black hair blew messily in the morning breeze, shaved short at the sides. His gaze narrowed as he stared at me, his shoulders seeming to curve forward like he might attack at any moment. Of course, I could have just been imagining that, until he lifted his head and I recognized him at once.

  Daniel.

  My stomach tightened at the sight of Eve’s boyfriend.

  The guy she had been sneaking around with, which now that I thought about it, probably had everything to do with the fact they came from different packs. There were a lot more divisions in this town than I first realized.

  Suddenly, he was marching across the road and coming right for me with a forceful expression warring across his face.

  My legs moved of their own accord, and I retreated until my back hit the brick wall of a building.

  Feet from me, he snapped his head up, his eyes red and puffy, the shadows beneath them dark like he hadn’t slept in days…which he probably hadn’t.

  “You fucking bitch, you killed her,” he barked, his arms stiff by his side, hands curled into fists. “I don’t care what anyone says, I know you took Eve from me.”

  I was shaking my head, my breath catching in my throat. “Daniel, I wouldn’t. I found her that way. I’m so sorry for your loss, but I didn’t do this. There was someone else there who took her life.”

  A deep rumble rolled over his throat, his chest pumping furiously for air. “Fucking convenient isn’t it? You must think we’re all idiots in this town. The new girl, who rolled in and pretended she had no idea who we were. The new girl who just happened to be a wolf as well. The new girl who acts so fucking innocent and naïve. Were you jealous of Eve? Was that it?” He shouted the words, his body shaking. “You had her blood all over your stupid hands,” he continued, a cry in his voice.

  It killed me to hear the hatred in his voice, to hear the reasons why he thought I was guilty. I hated the heartbreak in his gaze. I hated his fear.

  He stepped forward, and I jammed my back up against the wall, my heart pounding faster.

  “Daniel, don’t do something you’ll regret.” With my words, a growl spilled past my mouth. Where the hell did that come from?

  “Killer!” he roared, drawing the attention of two older women who strolled down the sidewalk across the road. They looked in our direction, glaring at me, showing zero sympathy. They wanted me to pay for Eve’s death too. I saw it in their icy stares.

  What was I saying earlier about this place starting to feel like home?

  Sweat dripped down my spine as the world seemed to be closing in around me from every angle. I was a murder suspect, Sterling’s arrival in town meant Alistair probably had tracked me down, and on top of all that, I had lost a friend.

  Exhaustion drained me, and I was tired of constantly feeling like everyone’s punching bag. All I wanted was to survive, to fit in somewhere, and instead, I was becoming the target once again.

  A ball of emotions wedged itself under my rib cage, making each breath a struggle. I trembled and ached all over as I questioned all my life decisions, even though so much had been out of my control.

  Daniel’s brow furrowed across the bridge of his nose as he studied me from behind hooded eyes. “You’re going to pay.” His threat fell from his lips as he lunged at me, his hand coming for my throat.

  Panic jolted through me, and instinct had me throwing my arm up to block his assault, then I ducked at the absolute last second. A breath’s whisper of air brushed across my back as his fist slammed into the wall, missing me.

  He hissed.

  I spun to him, my hands fisted. I wasn’t a fighter, but the silver glint in his eyes promised me pain. But fuck that, I wasn’t going to just sit back and take it. Not anymore.

  It was strange that my initial reaction was to be ready for battle and defend myself, something I’d certainly never done with Alistair.

  “Daniel, please.” My feet slipped backward as he came for me.

  A shadow emerged from the store behind Daniel, and suddenly, he was being dragged backward by the scruff of his neck.

  “That’s enough,” Mr. Jones snarled, holding onto the boy who he’d snapped around to face him. Mr. Jones looked so much bigger than Daniel, his white hair wild and barely tamed by his bowler hat, and his huge blue eyes gleaming with frustration. He was an older man, yet he handled himself with ease, yanking the boy about like he weighed nothing. “Do you think it’s smart to attack an innocent person because you’re angry, boy?”

  Daniel shoved away from Mr. Jones’ grasp, his face burning red. “Innocent.” He laughed bitterly at the word. “That bitch killed Eve,” he spat, his eyes tearing up as he pointed at me accusingly. “And she deserves to pay for it.”

  It seemed we’d managed to gather a small crowd of busybodies stopping to watch the commotion. They all turned their attention to me with hatred in their accusing eyes, lips curled into frowns. I lowered my attention to my shaking hands, wanting to run and hide.

  “Did he hurt you, Rune?” Mr. Jones asked, and when I lifted my head, I noticed Daniel was bolting down the sidewalk, making his way toward the bridge over the river. He was gone in an instant, yet I felt like a bug under a microscope with everyone still watching me.

  My skin crawled, and I turned without answering, desperate to get the hell out of here, hating how everyone judged me.

  “Come into the café, I have some tea I need you to try,” he cajoled.

  My pulse buzzed, and I paused, twisting my head to look at him. “You don’t blame me for Eve’s death?” I whispered.

  He shook his head at me like I was crazy. “Grief can do horrendous things to people. Now come inside, girl, away from all the busybodies.” He stretched an arm out to me, his palm outward in a welcoming gesture.

  He was wearing another well-fitted suit with pinstripes that made it easy to imagine we were in a nineteen-twenties movie, and he was welcoming me into his speakeasy or something. Well, maybe his white apron didn’t exactly fit the image, but it was quite the presentation…

  I didn’t wait a second longer, glad for someone to extend me an olive branch. I was desperate at this point. He swept me into his café in a whirl, the aroma of coffee wafting through the air. The smell alone had my muscles easing. Something about coffee had always automatically calmed me.

  Stepping deeper into the café as Mr. Jones let go of my hand, I studied the two other customers inside, each sitting at a different table, one reading the paper, another on his phone, while enjoying a cup of Mr. Jones’ brew.

  “You really should come by more often,” Mr. Jones said, interrupting my thoughts, and I glanced over to him as he stepped behind the counter. Like the last time I came in here, it made me feel like I’d stepped back in time with the old-fashioned décor and cash register, plus those huge, metal espresso machines in the background. I found myself lurching to the array of baked cakes and pastries behind a glass cabinet on the counter. I was ready to inhale them all and drown in their sugary goodness to forget all my troubles. A sugar coma sounded nice right about now.

  “I definitely need to visit more often.” I was a sucker for treats, but hey, everyone had their weakness. Mine just happened to come in the form of pastries. Almond croissants, cinnamon rolls, Danishes, eclairs, tarts. My mouth was salivating, and I glanced up to Mr. Jones, who had his back turned to me, preparing my tea I could only assume.

  “Thank you for helping me. It seems everyone else was intent on just wat
ching.”

  He shifted to the counter between us and set down an oversized ceramic mug painted with stars and the moon. When he looked over to me, his dark framed glasses slid down his nose, and he pushed them back up. “There’s been a lot of tension in town lately, and it’s easy to turn against each other. Some days, it’s difficult to even discern between those who live in this town and our cousins in the wild.” He laughed to himself, which amused me.

  I smiled at him because as I watched Mr. Jones pouring a green colored tea into the mug from a glass pot, he was the complete opposite of wild wolves. “I would love to try that Nutella pastry, please. It looks delicious.”

  “I might have been offended if you didn’t ask,” he teased and hastily plated the treat. “Take a seat, madam, and I’ll bring it all out to you.”

  I moved to take a seat on a small table right by the window where the sunlight made it a perfect spot.

  Sitting down on the wooden chair, I stared out toward the mountains in the distance, and the earlier anxiety started to crawl through me the more I thought about the incident with Daniel. He was so adamant that I’d killed Eve, to the point where he attacked me. What would have happened if Mr. Jones hadn’t come to help me? Would anyone else come to my aid, or would they cheer for me to be beaten?

  I shivered at the thought.

  I’d done nothing wrong, and a part of me warned me that if I never stood up for myself, I’d always be walked over. I’d finally made a stand against Alistair and even to Sterling to an extent, so I’d do it again to Daniel and anyone else who blamed me wrongly.

  I would find my feet and fight to prove my innocence to everyone in town. That included standing up to Alistair should he show up. Though doubt quickly crept over me at the last thought.

  There had to come a point though when even I had enough of always being the weak one.

  Mr. Jones arrived at my table and set down the pastry and cup of green tea. “I call it my calming blend. It may not taste the best, but drink it all, and I promise it will help.” His smile was infectious, and I nodded, half choked up over him being so nice to me. It was people like him that made me want to call Amarok my home…if they’d have me here of course.

  Once Mr. Jones returned to the counter for the new customer who’d walked into the café, I picked up the flaky pastry and bit into it. I moaned at the buttery taste, the sweetness from the Nutella bursting over my tastebuds. I might have just had a small orgasm in my mouth from how incredible it tasted. Before I knew it, I was licking my fingers and glancing over to the glass cabinet for more goodies. I should probably drink the tea first though.

  The cup was not as hot as I’d expected when I picked it up, and it carried a scent of berries and grass. I wasn’t sure if I should plug my nose and guzzle it, or pour it outside the window. I didn’t want to offend the man though, especially since he kept sneaking looks at me to see how I was enjoying my snack, so I took a small sip. Warmth rushed over my tongue, along with a slightly bitter taste, but at the back of my throat, it brought up a beautiful taste of blueberries. I couldn’t even explain clearly everything I was tasting, but I kept drinking it, cringing at the initial taste and savoring the aftertaste. In the end, I decided I liked it.

  Mr. Jones swept past my table once more, studying me. “What’s the verdict? Wasn’t too bad, right?”

  I shook my head. “Strangely, it’s growing on me. I might even have a second cup.”

  He laughed, throwing his head back. “I can officially say no one has ever asked for a second cup of my calming tea, but I recommend only one a day. How about I bring you another pastry?”

  “Yes please.” I lounged in my seat as he wandered back to the front of the café, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt so relaxed, so calm. Whatever was in that tea, I needed more. Maybe he had tea bags I could take back to my room for when things got out of hand, which seemed like a constant issue in this town…and in my life.

  A tingle danced over my fingers, and when I lifted my hands, they seemed to glow. “Wow!” I looked around the café, the whole place now looking like it glittered. Had Mr. Jones switched on some glittery lights? I got to my feet, stretching and feeling more alive than I had in forever. I bathed in how liberated I felt, how all I cared for was how much things sparkled. I wandered across the room to where a man, maybe in his forties, enjoyed a mug of what looked like sparkling coffee.

  Immediately intrigued, I slipped into the seat across from him. “I hope you don’t mind me joining you?” I asked. “I just couldn’t help but wonder what you’re drinking? It looks incredible.”

  He lifted his gaze as he lowered his mug from his lips, my attention following his brew.

  “You mean the latte?” His voice held a hint of curiosity.

  I nodded and feverishly licked my lips, drawing the man’s attention. He might have been older than me, but there was something rugged about him, and the corner of his eye glinted from the sunlight, giving him a sweet look.

  “Would you like a taste?” he asked, already handing over his cup.

  I nodded eagerly, unsure what was coming over me. Something in the back of my head told me this was weird, but the voice couldn’t overpower the lightness in my chest I was feeling suddenly, like I could fly if I wanted to. “I never thought you’d ask. I love sparkly things.”

  He gave me a weird look as I reached out to grab the cup, our fingers brushing as we made the transfer…which had him straightening in his seat. I didn’t waste a moment thinking about that though and sipped the coffee down. Nutty and creamy, but… I blinked down at the beverage. “This doesn’t taste special.”

  “What do you consider special? Would you like me to get you some sugar?” He started to shift in his seat to get up.

  I shook my head and set the mug back across the table in front of him, then looked at the man. “You don’t seem to hate me,” I said as my legs brushed against his under the table, and I couldn’t hold back the flirty smile I gave him. Something felt different inside me, almost playful and blurry at the same time.

  But just as quickly, he drew back his legs away from me and shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I know who you are, but there’s no reason for me to hate you. I also know that you are with Wilder, and I have no intention of getting on his bad side. If you’ll excuse me.” The man finished his coffee in two gulps, then climbed to his feet before making a beeline for the exit.

  Well, that was rude. I just wanted someone to chat with. When I glanced around, the other man had his nose deeply in the paper, and before I knew it, I was strolling over to him, swinging my hips, feeling especially giggly.

  “Rune, honey.” Mr. Jones’ voice came from behind me suddenly. I spun around and broke into a giggle like I was a little kid who’d just discovered how to twirl.

  “Oh, will you spin with me?” I ran my fingers up his arm, discovering he had way more muscles than his suit revealed. “Mr. Jones, you’re hiding a hot bod under there, aren’t you?”

  He half grinned and took my arm in his. “It seems my brew may have made you a bit too relaxed. How about I walk you home?”

  Before I could respond, he called out instructions to the waitress who worked with him, and then we were outside.

  “I don’t know what was in that calming tea, but I’d like to place an order for a pack of one hundred teabags.”

  He laughed even louder at me then. “Those are not for sale, but something I offer to special customers when they need some time out.”

  “Maybe you should take me over to Daxon or Wilder’s place.” I glanced over my shoulder down the sidewalk we strolled along, tugging against Mr. Jones’ hold, but his hand swung around my back, drawing me to focus on going forward.

  “Oh trust me, Rune. You will sleep the moment your head hits the pillow, and it will be the best sleep you’ve had in ages.”

  I stumbled alongside him, and yet the whole time, I kept feeling like I’d forgotten something important, something that sat on the back o
f my mind like a mountain.

  7

  Wilder

  The entire night had been a blur. I’d slipped in and out of dreams, and my thoughts raced over the events at the town hall. At how quickly everything had spiraled out of control. Though in truth, that was just another normal night if it involved Daxon and me. His presence alone rubbed me the wrong way, and all I wanted was to smash my fist into his face. Fuck, I always seemed so out to control around him, and he gave just as good as I delivered.

  He may have a pack who worshipped him and just as many women in town who were desperate for his ass, but something was seriously wrong with the guy. The Alpha image he presented to everyone wasn’t the real him, and that part irked me to high hell. Because if he couldn’t be himself in his own hometown, then could he be trusted with anything? With anyone?

  And that included my girl, Rune. The moment I’d picked up her scent at the town hall the other night, so had Daxon. I’d seen it in the way he stiffened, how he turned to the door to go to her, and well, I lost control. Then shit went sideways from there.

  Fucking asshole.

  Amarok was a special place, and neither of us were ready to part ways with our home, with our heritage. The location had been passed down from one family to the next in both our pack lines. Centuries ago, two Alphas moved to this land, friends who agreed to build a haven for wolf shifters, a place away from humans. Somewhere for them to run wild in the woods and avoid persecution and being hunted. The place was enormous, much larger when the surrounding woods were taken into account. Plenty of space for two packs to cohabitate. And from what I understood, there had never been a war between the Bitten and Lycan who lived here…well, until now.

  This wasn’t really just about Rune though. The trouble had started with Arcadia and then just got worse from there.

  It just so happened that Rune had upped the stakes. I was not going to lose her to him.

 

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