by S. K. Yule
“Good girl.”
She had to figure out a way to make this right with Kish. She didn’t want him to be upset with her or to think that she’d taken advantage of the situation.
She’d simply gotten lost in the feel and taste of him.
Chapter Eleven
Kish made his way through the living room and to the front door.
“Where the hel are you going?” Brady asked from the couch.
“None of your fucking business.” Kish was not in the mood.
“Al right. Al right. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.”
Fury swept through Kish and he spun around. He lunged at Brady, grabbed the front of his shirt, and twisted before puling him close.
“Stop fucking with me.” He ground through his teeth.
“Good God, man. I was just giving you some shit.
What the hel?”
Kish wasn’t usualy overly aggressive. True, he was a dominant male, and could be provoked into a fitting rage at times, but Brady hadn’t done anything that he wouldn’t normaly overlook.
He took a deep breath and let Brady flop back on the couch.
Georgia had just gotten comfortable when she heard the commotion in the living room. She flipped the covers off and tiptoed to her door where she cracked it open as quietly as she could. She turned her ear toward the opening and listened.
“Are you always prone to going bat shit crazy on random people, or do I have a knack for bringing it out in you?”
Brady’s voice was a bit muffled by the time it made it down the long halway to her ears, but she could clearly make out his words.
“I’m having a bad night. I didn’t mean to go bat shit crazy on you. But, seriously. Lay off the smart ass comments.” Kish’s voice was gravely, low, and harder to hear.
“Woman problems?”
“As I said before, none of your fucking business.”
“Look, I know you don’t know me, but I’ve been through some shit too, man. I’l be glad to listen.”
Georgia felt uneasy about eavesdropping on Kish and Brady’s private conversation and was about to shut the door and go back to bed. That was until Kish’s next sentence nearly floored her.
“I love her, but it can never be.”
Was Kish talking about her? He couldn’t be. Then her heart sank. He was in love with another woman.
“Why? Doesn’t she love you?”
“Love me? She doesn’t know shit about me.”
“So? Love isn’t perfect. Hel, love is never perfect.
If it is, it usualy isn’t love. True love? That shit wil fuck you up.”
“Just forget it.”
She heard a shuffling as Kish walked around. It most certainly wasn’t Brady unless he had miraculously recovered from his injury since she’d gone to bed.
“Forgetting it is no option where love is concerned.
If it’s true love, it wil never be forgotten. In fact, it wil whittle its way into every Goddamned cel of your being and eat away at your soul until the day you die.
Don’t ever think forgetting it is an option or you’l be in for a world of hurt that’l make torture look appealing.”
Georgia swalowed hard at the pain that was evident in Brady’s voice. He’d obviously been in love, but what had happened? It certainly didn’t sound as if it had worked out in his favor.
“Look, let’s just put aside the fact that she has no idea what the hel I am. Let’s for one moment pretend I’m a normal person.”
What the hel was Kish talking about? What was he if not a normal person? Did he have mental issues?
Was he a spy? A mobster?
“Okay. Then what is it?” Brady asked.
“Look at me.”
“Yeah. I’ve seen far uglier mugs than yours.”
“That’s just it. If I change her, and she sees the scars, she’l get sick of them eventualy. They al do.”
She stifled a gasp of pain. Then just as quickly, she became furious. Other women had hurt him because of some stupid scars? What kind of shalow twits had he been with that they focused on physical imperfections and not what was inside?
Then she frowned. What did he mean by change her so she could see him?
“I’ve only just met her, but she doesn’t seem that shalow to me. Don’t you think a woman who’s been blind her entire life is capable of looking past a few superficial flaws?”
“Georgia deserves better than me. She’l get tired of the stares and whispers when we are out.”
“For Christ’s sake, man. Give her a chance to prove she’s not a shalow nincompoop. Besides, knowing our nature, you wouldn’t be out in public al that much anyway.”
Oh my God. He’s talking about me. Kish loves me. While her heart sang in sudden joy at that realization, her mind was putting the breaks on her happy mojo. It didn’t sound as if Kish was wiling to trust her. How could she convince him that Brady was right? She didn’t care about scars. She cared about Kish.
But if he did get over al of that, and they were to have a relationship, would he expect her to live out here with him? It wasn’t that she’d mind living in the woods in the middle of nowhere. She loved nature, but her blindness would impair her in a place like this like it didn’t in a smal city. In the city, she had sidewalks, landmarks, public transport, familiarity.
Here? Here, she could get herself in trouble real quick if she didn’t pay attention to everything around her, especialy while outside.
Nonsense! You could do it. Yeah. She probably could, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit the prospect frightened her. Then the answer came as clearly as a cloud free spring day. She would live here with Kish if he wanted her to. She’d go anywhere with him.
“You aren’t hearing me.”
“Al I hear is blah, blah, blah, and a lot of bul shit, insecurity, and excuses.”
A low rumble that sounded much like the growl Kish said was him clearing his throat earlier resonated easily down the halway to her ears. No mistaken this time. It was definitely a growl, and it wasn’t a growl of frustration. It was a growl much like a predator would make when cornered.
“Look, man, I’m teling you. I’ve been around a lot of women. A lot. And Georgia is not shalow. She’s blind. Don’t you think that’s had an impact on any discriminatory urges she might have felt? She’s not going to fault someone for their handicaps. She’d be damning herself if she did.”
“Brady, I think you and I live in reality most of the time. And in human reality, lycans and shape-shifters do not exist other than in Holywood and fiction. Even if she could live with my scars, how in the hel would I get her past the werewolf part, and the fact that I’d want to make her one? She’s naive and innocent and beautiful. I don’t want to be responsible for rattling her cage possibly hard enough to permanently dislodge a few marbles.”
Georgia couldn’t stifle the gasp this time, and by the time she covered her mouth, everything had gone silent.
“Son of a bitch.” Kish’s voice came from the end of the halway now while his steps came closer to her room.
She backed away from the door. He had to be crazy. Werewolves? Shape-shifters? Lycans? Scars she could live with, but crazy assed delusions were something else altogether.
“Georgia?” Kish’s voice was quiet.
He was standing at her door, and she froze. She wasn’t exactly scared of him. Even though she’d just realized he most likely had a few screws loose— Brady too for that matter—she knew he wouldn’t hurt her. Stil, she was frightened.
“Go away, Kish.”
He took a few steps closer and stopped.
“I don’t know what kind of cult or religion or whatever the hel it is you are tangled up in, but I don’t want to hear any more. I can’t deal with something like this right now.”
“Georgia? Do you have any feelings for me at al?”
Her heart thudded painfuly in her chest. She loved him, but what did it matter now? She could never be a part of his life of
fantasy. She gulped back a sob and jumped when his hand cupped her cheek gently.
Damn, the man could move quietly when he wanted.
“Kish, I can’t get involved in this.”
“Please just answer me.”
“Yes. I do, Kish. I have feelings for you. And just so you know, I don’t give one rat’s ass about your scars, but the other thing? That scares the living hel right out of me.”
His thumb stroked slowly back and forth. His rougher skin felt delicious against her face, and she fought the urge to lean into him.
“How much did you hear?”
“Pretty much al of it. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I just couldn’t help my—”
“Shhh. It’s okay. I suppose you would find out one way or another at some point in time. I would have preferred to tel you in a different way.”
“No.”
“Yes. I’m not trying to scare you, sweetheart, I swear, but what you heard is the truth.”
Sweetheart. He’d caled her sweetheart, and she liked it. Don’t forget he’s freaking crazy.
“You are seriously going to stand here and try to convince me that you are a werewolf?”
“I could prove it if that would make you feel better.”
“Feel better? Nothing about this is making me feel better. This cannot be happening.” She squeezed her arms around her middle and began to pace. “Why are you doing this?”
“I’m not doing anything, Georgia. I cannot help who I am or what I am for that matter. I didn’t ask to be a lycan. I was born that way just like you were born without your sight.”
Then she remembered something else he’d said while talking to Brady. “And you can give me my sight?”
“Yes, I believe I can. If I changed you, your sight would be restored. There is a tiny, minute possibility that the change would fail to give you your sight back, but I know how strong you are, and I’m confident it would work.”
“So the only thing I’d have to do to get my sight back is agree to become some monster that goes balistic at every ful moon?” She snorted. “Sure. It’s a dream come true.”
He sucked in a sharp breath, and she silently cursed herself. She’d just caled him a monster, and he might be many things, but a monster he was not.
“I didn’t mean that you—”
“Don’t worry about it. I thought you were different.”
“Kish?”
But he didn’t answer her. He was gone. Damn it, she’d flubbed that up royaly. But what the hel was she supposed say? He wanted her to believe that he was a freaking werewolf. She sat on the edge of the bed and picked at her nails. A bad habit she’d picked up years ago when she was upset or nervous.
He had growled. She snorted. That didn’t mean anything. Anyone could do that. She tried hard to convince herself of that anyway even though she was pretty sure she’d never heard anyone make a growl like Kish. The growl had sounded far from human.
Maybe it had simply been something strange he’d always been able to do. People al over the world had weird things they could do that others could not.
Then something else crept into her mind. His scent.
The hint of wildness that she’d not been able to place.
Could there be some truth to what he’d said? No!
No! No! She was not going to entertain the idea that werewolves were real, especialy while she was out in the middle of nowhere. If she alowed this idea to take root and become a possibility in her over imaginative mind, she’d drive herself crazy or scare herself to death. Maybe both.
Nonsense. She went to her door and made sure it was closed before locking it then crawled under the covers. Tomorrow, she’d have Kish take her into town and she’d stay with Henry and Joey. But could she realy walk away and forget Kish? She could walk away if she had to, but forgetting him was not an option.
Chapter Twelve
Kish ran through the deep snow until he panted.
His sides heaved and his heart ached with every beat.
He’d known from the start things wouldn’t work with Georgia, but he’d obviously hidden away some minute spark of hope that it would. She thought he was a monster. He couldn’t blame her for thinking so.
Finding out he was a lycan through overhearing he and Brady’s conversation must have been a shock to her system.
He wasn’t an idiot. It would have been a shock to her no matter how she’d found out, but he would have chosen to ease her in to it. Now she simply thought him a loony bin bound psycho. And as much as he couldn’t fault her for thinking such, it hurt that she’d automaticaly come to that conclusion without giving a second thought to actualy believing him.
Come on. She’s a human. Of course she’s not going to believe lycans are real. And to be fair, she hadn’t known him for long either. It feels as if I’ve known her forever. She obviously felt a connection to him as wel. She had responded to his kisses. Hel, she’d done more than respond. The mere memory of her legs wrapped around him as he ground against her stole the breath from his already starved lungs.
About an hour had passed, and he turned to head back home. He barely felt the snow and cold gusts of wind against his body that was protected by thick fur.
The predator of the wolf fought with the logic of the man. The wolf wanted its mate no matter the cost.
The man wanted her too, but not at the risk of harming her in any way, which included psychologicaly.
When he finaly made it to his house, he was tired.
Brady was asleep on the couch, and he went to his room, showered, and flopped naked bely-first on the bed where he immediately fel into a deep sleep.
“Can you not find some way to believe what I say is the truth?”
Georgia sat on the rail of his front porch. A sheer, white, ankle-length nightgown billowed lightly in the gentle breeze. She was radiant, amazing, perfect in every way. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders like water, and her golden skin beckoned him. He wanted to touch her. He wanted to push the silky, white fabric up past her calves, her thighs, and to her waist as he kissed his way up to the place he wanted to taste most.
After he pleasured her with his mouth, he’d take her with his body. He’d brand himself on her soul forever, and when she cried out his name, she’d know he was the only one who’d ever bring her that kind of pleasure. She’d know she was the only one that could bring him that kind of pleasure.
“Kish, I don’t know what to think. I’m scared.
I’m worried for you. You aren’t well.”
He slowly walked to her and was relieved when she didn’t scurry away from him like a scared rabbit. “I am as well as anyone can be, Georgia.
I’ll never deny that I have issues just like everyone does, but mine do not require magical pills and shrinks to cure my head. I’m not crazy. I would have told you eventually anyway. I’m sorry you found out I was a lycan the way you did.”
Her green eyes filled with tears and her bottom lip quivered. “How am I supposed to believe you are a werewolf, Kish?”
He took her hand and laid it palm down over his heart. “I can prove it to you, but I don’t want to frighten you.”
She sighed. “Prove it to me then.”
He took her face between his hands. “Don’t be scared. You have my word that no matter what happens, I will not hurt you.” He gave her a lingering kiss on the lips because he couldn’t resist.
“If there is one thing I’m sure of about you, it is that you would never hurt me.”
He took a deep breath and let the wolf come to the surface and beyond. Then reached for her hands. He let her feel the claws come out of his fingertips and curl toward his palms. When she gasped, he assured her again that he would not harm her.
He then raised her hands to his mouth and let her feel the now elongated fangs protruding through his gums.
“But . . . but . . . how?” she asked as tears slid down her cheeks.
“I didn’t want to shift all the way. Only ancients can pa
rtially change like this.”
He watched intently as she felt his mouth and fangs then ran her fingers back down to his hands.
“I’m telling you the truth, Georgia. I know it’s hard to take in, but there are things that exist that most people think are only stories.”
“You are telling me the truth, aren’t you?” She pulled her hands back and wrapped her arms around her middle.
Kish stood close, refusing to let her retreat too far.
After what seemed like hours of silence but what in reality was probably only a matter of minutes, she spoke.
“Let me get this straight. You are a werewolf.
A werewolf? And you were worried about me touching your face because it’s scarred?”
Kish sucked in a sharp breath.
“I don’t understand why you would be worried about something as trivial as a few scars when you are a werewolf.”
“My scars are not trivial. They are hideous, and every woman I’ve been with has left me because of them. You’d do the same.”
“Are you kidding me? You would have the nerve to rank me along with the obvious idiots you’ve dated before me? What a low opinion you have of me.”
“It’s the truth. After a while, you’d grow tired of them.”
“I’m insulted, Kish. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m blind. I’ve had people whispering and staring at me my whole life. And yes, I may be blind, but I can feel them staring at me all the same. I don’t need eyes to know it’s happening. I would never subject someone else to that kind of pain because of a defect. Nor would I be shallow enough to allow my feelings for someone to be tarnished by some scars.”
“You’d get tired of them,” he said resolutely.
“Once you could see the way they stared at me . .
.”
“You really do believe you can restore my sight, don’t you?”
“I told you I can.”
“But to do so, you’d have to change me?”
“Yes.”
“And then what? I’d become a lycan like you and what? Be a booty call or something along with all the other little groupies you’ve changed along the way? Why would you care? You obviously have a low opinion of me and didn’t plan on giving any type of relationship with me a true chance.”