All's Were That Ends Were: Soulmate Shifters World (Soulmate Shifters in Mystery, Alaska Book 6)
Page 9
“Fine, fine. I’m coming.” Ava gave Dawn a quick wink and retreated into the living room as well. The lights in the living room dimmed and Dawn found herself once again trying not to focus on the fact that she was sitting on Tor’s lap.
Or the fact that she liked sitting on Tor’s lap and didn’t want to get off of Tor’s lap.
It was strange feeling so cared for.
Her eyelids fluttered, exhaustion following her adrenaline spiked panic attack.
“You’re going to stay with me, right?” She said, her voice a whisper against his shirt.
“All night, shuarra. I will be right there in the chair next to your bed.”
He slipped her from his lap and tucked her beneath the covers.
Dawn closed her eyes and rolled to her side, wincing at the pain in her ribs. She pulled a hard pillow to her stomach and hugged it, wishing it was Tor.
That thought made her pause. Was she ready to take a leap like that?
Not sleep with him as in sex, but just to…sleep.
She missed his touch already and he’d only just tucked her in and settled into the chair in the corner moments ago. Having his big body next to hers sounded so much more reassuring than him in the corner watching her like a creepy vampire in a movie.
She couldn’t do it.
She’d just met him.
He’d think she was a slut. That’s what Adam called her, among other names.
A tear rolled down her cheek. She buried her face in the pillow and willed it to stop.
The mattress dipped behind her and a big hand touched her shoulder. “You’re safe. I promise.” He’d moved back to the edge of the bed. He was sitting right next to her. Still the tears came.
“I just. Will you—” the words wouldn’t come. She was being a coward. People were already staying with her in the house. Three people would be sleeping here with her, taking care of her, guarding her. Willing to get hurt for her. She hadn’t had that…ever.
Not even her Mom would’ve sacrificed that for her. Her mother did only what was best for Hillary Mae Mikkelson. She’d never made a choice that was purely for Dawn’s benefit.
Tor’s long lean body stretched out behind her. A big arm slipped over her waist on top of the comforter and gently pulled her tight against him. His breath was soft on the back of her neck. His face had to be buried in her hair. She reached up to move her hair, but he caught her hand and pushed it back under the covers.
“I’m here. Sleep.” His low rumbling voice was the lullaby that finally allowed her frayed nerves to relax.
She sank into his embrace and took a few more deep breaths before slipping into a peaceful slumber. The last thing she remembered was Tor whispering something about how he would never let anything hurt her.
And she believed him.
11
Tor
Her body felt right next to his. Her skin smelled of cinnamon and apples. Maybe it was her hair. He took another deep breath and held in a groan.
Why?
Why did fate have to be so cruel.
She needed a mate. Needed him.
He wanted her. The soul call was there. Her skin glowed like a full moon against a dark velvet sky.
And yet the shine of the ring on her left hand was enough to stop him cold in his tracks. Tor valued his honor. Valued her honor. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t move in on another man’s wife.
Fate had made a mistake.
That had to be it.
The magick was wrong.
He carefully separated himself from her body and crawled slowly from the bed, trying not to wake her. She’d slept fitfully. Crying off and on throughout the night. Once she’d even begged someone named Adam to stop—stop what he didn’t know—and then she’d proceeded to tell the same Adam how much she loved him. That there was no other man for her.
Every single word had been a knife twisted into Tor’s stomach.
Being here was a mistake. He could help in the bar kitchen. He might be able to stay sane and work for her long term, but he couldn’t stay up here another night. He couldn’t sleep in her bed. He couldn’t hold her.
He would fall in love with her.
Hell, he was already falling in love with her.
It’d started the very first time he’d seen the magick illuminating her skin. She was meant to be his.
Except she wasn’t. Dalmeck.
He stalked from the bedroom into the kitchen.
Ava had a pot of coffee already made and was sitting on the couch with a mug, half-laying across Ryder’s lap.
“What time did you come up?” Tor asked, pouring himself a cup of the dark liquid. He sipped and sighed, enjoying the rush the coffee provided almost instantly.
“Liam and I locked up about midnight. He said it was more people than he’d seen in months. Good for business and probably good for keeping certain people from deciding to pay us another visit. How’s the female?” Ryder asked.
“She’s on edge and struggled with nightmares the whole night. Though some of the dreams are older. Not from the attacks here in Mystery.” Tor met Ava’s gaze. “Has she told you anything about a man named Adam?”
“Is that her husband?” Ava asked.
Tor nodded. “I think so.”
“She hasn’t mentioned him. But I haven’t asked. I could ask.”
“No. It’s her business.”
“Something happened, Tor. Something bad or he would be here with her,” Ava said, swinging her legs off her mate and setting them flat on the floor.
“She’s still wearing the ring. And she asked for her husband when she was waking up after the attack in the parking lot. I’d be a fool not to take that seriously, Ava.” He took another sip of his coffee and glanced at the bedroom door, listening for any sign that Dawn had awoken.
Her heart-rate was even. Her breathing hadn’t changed.
“If I stay this close to her, I won’t do something I’m proud of.”
“I get it. I just think she needs you. Mate or not.”
Tor put his coffee mug on the counter and inhaled deeply and slowly. His tiger was pissed. He was pissed. They both wanted more, but claiming Dawn was out of his reach and it was dangerous for him to think that he could stay here. That he could sleep with her in his arms all night and not be affected. But when she’d come apart last night, his first instinct had been to hold her.
And so, he had crawled into bed next to her.
And she’d accepted him. She’d relaxed in his arms. Seconds later she’d been asleep.
It’d been the best and the worst night of his life up to this point. For a few moments here and there last night he’d been able to pretend that she was his. That he was her mate. That they belonged together. That she would spend every night wrapped in his arms.
But she wouldn’t.
His shoulders sagged.
“Tor, we’re going to run across the street and eat breakfast at Lily’s. You want us to bring anything back?” Ava said, pulling on her boots.
“No. I’m going to run downstairs and grab a few things from the cooler there and make her some breakfast.”
He locked the door behind Ava and Ryder and then went to the stairwell on the other side of the living room. He unlocked the door and headed down to the bar. She didn’t have many groceries up here, but the bar kitchen was much better stocked.
Tor walked carefully through the dark into the kitchen and flipped on the big fluorescent lights. They buzzed to life, flickering once or twice before fully lighting. The smooth red brick floor was clean from last night’s hosing down.
He took a large skillet down from a hook and set it on the stove. Eggs were next. And milk and flour. A small batch of biscuits would be quick and delicious with some fried eggs.
Within a few minutes he had the biscuits in the oven and the pan heating up with a little bacon grease to fry the eggs. He heard footsteps upstairs, just one set.
He’d left the stairwell door open so she would kno
w he’d come down. And she followed a few moments later.
“Tor?” she called.
Tor’s heart clenched hard at the sound of his name on her lips. He forced himself to take a deep breath. “Here,” he said, deepening his voice so it would carry from the kitchen all the way into the dining room.
The swinging door opened. Dawn’s face broke into a smile. “You’re cooking, breakfast? I love breakfast.”
He didn’t think he’d really seen her happy yet. The glow on her skin drew him and he walked to her before he realized what he was doing. His hands went to either side of her face. He slipped his fingers through her silky blonde hair and leaned down and kissed her lips.
A little gasp slipped between her lips when he pulled away. Then he shook his head, trying to clear the fog. Dalmeck. He’d kissed her. He took a step back.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. It was a mistake.” He took another step back and turned to the food on the stove. He wouldn’t look at her again. He wouldn’t let the soul call fool him into thinking she was his for the taking.
Her lips had been the best thing he’d ever tasted. Soft and sweet and…she hadn’t objected to the kiss. That made it worse. She was married and she’d let him kiss her without a single word of objection. What kind of terrible person did that? His father would be embarrassed by his lack of control. Utterly embarrassed.
“Biscuits will be out in a couple of minutes. The fried eggs are ready,” he said, plating the eggs. A second later a timer went off and he grabbed a mitt and pulled the tray with the biscuits out of the oven.
A quick glance over his shoulder informed him that she was still standing in the same place. Hadn’t moved. Not even an inch. Her fingers were on her mouth. And she was just watching him.
Dawn
A mistake.
He thought the kiss was a mistake. So, he was attracted to her but didn’t want to have anything to do with her. He just wanted the job in the bar. And taking care of her, sleeping next to her last night, cooking her breakfast this morning…it was what? Nothing? Meant nothing.
The kiss had been short, but everything she’d imagined it might be. He’d been gentle and tasted her like she was a dessert he wanted to savor.
But then something had happened to sour the moment.
She wracked her mind, trying to come up with some reason why he had gone from hot to cold in a matter of a millisecond.
Dawn traced her fingertips across her lips, remembering the pressure of his when they’d met hers. She remembered the pressure of his tongue the feel of its caress. He’d been about to kiss her again and then it was like he remembered something and then he was gone.
Back to the food.
Away from her.
Staying business and unavailable, just like he’d done yesterday.
If that’s really how he felt, she certainly wouldn’t chase him. Adam had liked it when she chased him. When she’d begged for forgiveness for whatever conjured up offense he’d decided she’d committed. It was always something new. It was always a mystery to figure out how to appease him. How to make the yelling stop. How to keep the hitting from starting.
That’d always been her driving force. Keep him happy enough that he wouldn’t ever hit her.
She turned and left the kitchen. Left Tor to his cooking. She wasn’t hungry anymore. She didn’t want to sit with Tor or have him touch her or think about how amazing his kiss had been. He thought getting closer to her was a mistake. She couldn’t forget that. It would be dangerous to forget that.
Maybe she could just drive around for a while. Think. That’s what she usually did when things didn’t make sense. She just drove until they did.
She hurried up the stairs into the upstairs apartment and turned the corner into the bedroom. Her bag was sitting on the dresser and her keys were right there next to it. She picked them up, slipped her feet into her tennis shoes and headed for the outside door of the apartment. Tor could eat his mistake by himself.
She unlocked the front door and went out into the cool morning air. The sky was still that gray color. The sun was up enough to give light to the world but not to bathe it in a yellow glow yet. The scent of pine and moist earth filled the air. Everything about this place was fresh and clean.
Dawn trotted down the stairs toward her Jeep and stopped at the bottom. The tires were flat. Not just one of them—all four tires were flat.
“Dammit!” She kicked one of the useless tires. They had cost her thousands of dollars. She’d saved for over a year before she’d bought them along with the Jeep. It’d been her one present to herself since she’d left Adam and filed for a divorce.
Her ex had sold her car the second they’d gotten married. He didn’t want her able to drive. He said it made him worry. She’d thought it was sweet at first, but eventually she’d seen it for the manipulation it truly was. By then it was too late. He had control of every tiny corner of her life.
It’d taken her almost seven years to get free of him. Seven years and a lot of friends at the police station. But she’d done it. And now she was here and these stupid thugs, whoever they were, had broken the one thing she’d worked for. The only thing of value she owned.
She kicked the tire again and started walking down the street. If she couldn’t drive and think, she’d just walk. It was stupid. A little voice in the back of her head whispered that she was being foolish, but she wanted to be alone. Needed a minute by herself.
Since the attack, she’d been surrounded every minute of every day.
She passed the café on the other side of the road. It hummed with a little life. She could see lights on inside. The open sign was glowing. She kept going north on Hwy 3 toward the river.
A fox ran across the road ahead of her. She smiled and stood still as it paused and looked at her before hurrying on its way. A few minutes later she saw one of the infamous moose she’d been warned about.
Good grief. They hadn’t been kidding when they said those things were huge. It was taller than her by several feet. It looked like a deer that’d been hit by gamma rays and had hulked out. It wasn’t green, but still. The thing had muscles on its muscles. And those antlers looked like they could lift a car if necessary.
She walked quietly by, stealing a couple of glances. The moose appeared to not be paying her any mind. It was just quietly chewing some grass and minding its own business.
The hum of a vehicle made her pause again. She took a step to the right, putting herself further onto the shoulder out of the way. The vehicle never passed. Instead it stopped next to her. A huge shiny black SUV.
Shit.
Her stomach convulsed and crawled up her throat. The urge to vomit was overwhelming, but she managed to keep a straight face, continue to breathe, and not feint from sheer terror and panic.
The front window rolled down, revealing a man in a clean-cut business suit.
A tiny minuscule part of her was slightly relieved. He didn’t look like the guy who’d jumped her in the parking lot.
“Do you need a ride, Ms. Mikkelson?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but her tongue dried up before she could get words out. He knew her name. Her stomach was knotting in her gut like ropes in a washing machine. Even if she shouted, no one would hear her. She was on the main thoroughfare. It was early. Most of the businesses weren’t open.
She shook her head and took another step off the road, putting a few more inches between her and the SUV.
He clicked his tongue, freezing the blood in her veins. “Don’t leave, Ms. Mikkelson. We really do need to have a conversation about the bar you inherited.”
“There’s nothing to say,” Dawn said, forcing the words out. She swallowed and stood up a little straighter. “The bar is mine.”
“It won’t be for very long,” the man in the SUV hissed. He said something under his breath and one of the back doors opened.
A huge man got out. The same huge man who had beaten the crap out of her behind the bar
.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Dawn backed up another step and then turned and ran.
Straight.
Into.
The.
Trees.
12
Tor
He turned around from getting the biscuits out of the oven and Dawn was gone.
“Dawn?” he called.
No answer.
He flipped the burner off on the eggs and scraped them out onto two plates. Then added two biscuits to each plate and put a ramekin of jelly and one of butter on each plate too. He grabbed the plates and headed back upstairs.
“Dawn?” he called again, looking around the apartment. He didn’t hear her in the bathroom.
He put the plates on the counter and walked into the bedroom. He grit his teeth and tried to calm the beast within. All the worst-case scenarios were playing out in his head.
She wasn’t here. He knew she wasn’t here before he looked in the bedroom. Before he opened the bathroom door.
The apartment was empty.
Dalmeck.
He ran to the apartment door. It was locked. No signs of forced entry. He opened it and rushed down the stairs. Her Jeep was still there…but the tires…the tires were flat—slashed wide open.
He sniffed the air. She’d been outside. He could smell her shampoo.
“Dawn?” he said her name again, a little louder this time and he couldn’t keep the dread out of his voice. “Dawn.”
He walked across the street to Lily’s and in through the front door. “Dawn?” He poked his head into the dining room. Ryder and Ava’s head snapped up immediately.
“What’s wrong?” Ava said, standing from her chair. Ryder was up a moment later. He put a few bills down on the table and they crossed the dining room.
Tor walked outside and they followed him.
“I can’t find Dawn. She’s not in the apartment. I was cooking and then she wasn’t there. I thought she just went back upstairs and was waiting for me to bring the food. I messed up. I kissed her. I think I scared her. I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his hair and glanced up and down the main road. “I can’t scent her. I don’t know which way she went. What if they got her? Dalmeck! What am I going to do?”