by Amanda LeMay
His arm came out from behind his head and he laid it across his eyes.
“They tried to send me home. I wouldn’t go. I couldn’t. When they pushed, I pulled my Alpha card and shut that shit down. I needed to be there for you. And when you had that nightmare, I was the first one there. The way you looked at me. No fear. And you know what scared the hell out of me?”
“No,” I whispered.
“When I did finally leave Kern and Maygan’s place that morning, I got about a mile away and had to pull my truck over and just sit there on the side of the damned road. Thought I was having some kinda fucking pansy-assed panic attack. Body hurt like hell. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think. Drippin’ sweat even though I shook like I was freezin’.”
Goosebumps rose on his arms and chest just before he shivered.
“I was so fuckin’ afraid you didn’t feel the same pull to be with me. Maybe, after all you’d been through, you couldn’t give in to the sakana bond.” His chest expanded with a huge breath, and he let it out slowly before he went on. “Called out to their place and Maygan answered. I needed to know if this bond went both ways.”
“I remember that conversation, Gun. I was sitting right there in the kitchen when you called. I was...sad you left.”
He turned his head to face me. “I was scared to death you would fight me tooth and nail before giving in and letting me love you.”
“I hope I didn’t make you wait too long,” I teased.
“No, sakana.” His body rolled toward me as he brought our joined hands to his lips. “I spent a lot of years sharing my life with someone who could never love me back—someone who wasn’t able to feel anything more for me than friendship. That relationship taught me a hell of a lot. I also learned some hard lessons after Neeta left.”
All the alcohol I’d consumed had already burned out of my system and left me with a clear head. I laid my hand against his slightly prickly cheek.
“You’re wrong about Neeta. Even though you couldn’t replace the love she’d lost, she still loves you...in her own way. She loves you in a way that’s making it extremely easy for me to take my place as your mate and not feel awkward about sharing you with her.”
“There’s nothing to share, not between the two of you. She may be able to claim the title of first mate, but I’m yours, Simone. All yours.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
A TINGLE OF ELECTRICITY shot through my skin, startling me awake.
“Oh...” I gasped. The hair all over my body stood on end.
“Lightning, babe,” Gunner mumbled sleepily. His thumb rubbed lazy circles on my arm. “Just lightning.”
I counted off in my head as I gazed out the window at the ominous, gray storm clouds—one thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three...
Thunder rolled across the land, rattled the windows, and passed into the distance.
A strange odor hit me, as if the sky had belched out the stench of bleach and sulfur.
“Oh, yuck.” I buried my nose in Gunner’s chest in an effort to block out the foul odor.
“Stinks. Wind must be just right.” His fingers sifted through my hair. “See, if this were a spring rain, all you’d smell would be the little yellow agarita flowers.”
The hair on my arms came to attention again.
One thousand one, one thousand two...
Boom.
The windows shook harder. I flinched, and smiled.
“It’s getting closer.” The scent of rain seeped into the dark bedroom. I moved, and burrowed my nose deep into Gunner’s neck to avoid the sulfurous, lightning smell I knew would follow.
“Yep, northwest of us, I think.” His hand smoothed over the curve of my bottom. “You afraid of lightning?”
I had to smile at the concern in his voice.
“Not at all. I love lightning storms.” I snuggled my nose up under Gunner’s ear. “Is that weird?
“Nah. It’s just most animals are kinda skittish when it comes to lightning. I wouldn’t think less of you if you were a little scared. But now that I think about it, I shoulda known better. I can’t imagine you being scared of much.”
“I’m not, at least, not anymore.” I breathed Gunner’s scent in deep. “Still, lightning never frightened me. I must have blocked out the odor, though. It’s disgusting. Like something rotten.”
“Yeah.” Gunner chuckled. “You hungry?”
Oh, yes. “Starving.”
He yawned and stretched, and moved to get out of bed.
“Wait.” I pushed him down with one hand on his chest. “Let me get it.” I moved up and kissed him soft and slow, my lips nibbling his. His arms wrapped around me and held me there.
“You sure? You keep kissing me like that and I won’t be able to let you go.”
“You’re going to have to let me do things for you once in a while.” I traced my fingers over his prickly cheek. “I want to feed you.”
His hand slipped between my legs and cupped my mound. “Well, maybe I could start right here.”
I laughed, and even though his little touch was more than enough to tempt me into crawling on top of him and letting him feast to his heart’s content—and mine—I rolled away and set my feet on the rug. “Like you said, I don’t think that counts as food. Not that I don’t want your mouth there, because I do, but I really need to get something to build up my energy before we start another lovemaking marathon.”
He leaned up on his elbow. “Will it count if there’s whipped cream involved?” His green eyes ran the length of my body. His wide grin flashed his canines.
“We’ll have to do some research on that.” I smiled. “Lots of research.” I snagged my blouse and skirt and slipped them on, not bothering with my panties or the little matching jacket. Walking around to his side of the bed, I kissed him again, and murmured against his soft lips, “I love you, Gun.”
“Love you, Simone, love you so much.”
My heart did that little flippy thing behind my ribs. “Don’t worry if I’m not right back—looking for whipped cream might take me a bit.”
His hand wrapped around my neck and held me within kissing distance. “Grab the maraschino cherries from the bar while you’re at it.”
“Absolutely.”
He pulled me back down. His lips touched mine, his tongue drove into my mouth, causing instant heat to tighten my breasts and everything that lay between my legs. I had to pull away before I went up in flames again.
“I am sooo going to find some whipped cream.”
He released me and I almost ran to the bedroom door. The quicker I grabbed what I needed, the quicker I could climb back into bed with my sakana. I turned the knob, yanked and jiggled the handle, then stared in confusion when the door didn’t open.
Gunner rolled over onto his chest, closed his eyes, and chuckled from the bed. “Deadbolt, baby.”
I glanced up and huffed as I twisted the latch to unlock the door.
The rain had finally come as I made my way down the hall toward the living room. And not simply rain, a deluge. Gunner had said the visiting Alphas would probably rest up before the long night ahead. I focused my senses, listened for voices. If anyone else was moving around in the house, I didn’t hear them, or couldn’t over the pounding rain.
Another bolt of lightning flashed as I crossed in front of the living room window, illuminating the shadowed room for only a moment. The boom of thunder followed before I started my count. The house blocked the wind so the rotten-egg smell didn’t seem to seep into the living room.
I walked out the front doors and onto the porch. The heavy, black clouds dumped everything they had. Hail mixed with the downpour and the sound was almost deafening as it hit the wooden shingles on the house and pinged off the metal roof of the nearby barn. Smiling, I cupped my hands and stuck them out past the porch overhang, where they quickly filled with frozen, pea-sized hail. Though I was protected from the wind by the house, I saw the trees and bushes whip and bend as the hail-rain mix be
at down on them.
Off in the distance, one of the white vans from Gunner’s market traveled slowly up the road, but instead of going around the house to the kitchen, it stopped about fifty yards away. With the amount of food these Alphas went through, I wasn’t surprised to see a delivery van here again. Unfortunately, for them, the weather was going to make this trip a little more difficult. Then again, they were Texans and probably used to it.
The van began moving again, traveling slowly through the deep puddles where rain and hail had accumulated in the ruts and low-lying areas of the dirt driveway. If the rain kept up at this pace, there would soon be a torrent running through the yard and down the road. If these males didn’t get unloaded fast, there was a chance they could end up stuck here until the rain let up. The road might be so much mud, they’d end up having to wait even longer, or chance getting stuck.
The freezing hail collected in my hands, overflowed, and bounced off my little pile to cascade down the wooden porch steps, along with the rain. The van pulled up in front of me. The side door slid open, and knowing Derry wouldn’t appreciate a couple of males tracking mud and dripping water through the house, I shouted out to them.
“You risk the wrath of Derry, coming in through this way!”
Recognition hit me like a slap in the face.
Black hair. Pale skin. Dark blue eyes. I knew his face.
He aimed a black barrel at me. My mother had aimed one of those at me, once.
So you understand that the first shot was not an accident.
I shook my head sharply, a strange thought coming from nowhere: did every member of Rule’s pack own a gun?
Lightning and thunder flashed and boomed simultaneously overhead. My hair stood on end. The bleach-and-sulfur stink hit my nose like a punch. A sharp sting slammed into me, above my right breast. The hard jolt knocked me back a step, but not off my feet. My empty stomach churned as the landscape in front of me spun. My tongue felt thick and sticky.
All sensation leaked away in my hands. I could barely feel the frozen hail against my skin any longer. The little balls of ice fell from my numb fingers, landing in a small pile on the top step, and scattered as the rain washed them away. My legs buckled. My body went loose and hit the wooden deck in a heap. Rain blurred my vision.
Oh, gods.
I can’t...feel...anything.
I’m dying.
Dying.
Oh Gun.
Gun.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
MY STOMACH PITCHED. My head swam. The musky odor that coated my nostrils pulled me even farther out of the darkness.
Sex. And blood. Both odors twisted my gut even more.
My heart raced in my chest as if I’d run for my life.
Where’s the rain? The hail? Where is Gunner?
Damp clothing stuck to my body. My skin broke out in gooseflesh. Fighting the urge to rub my arms, I didn’t dare move. But I was so cold. Not only on the outside, but also on the inside, as if all the warmth had been stolen from my blood.
I tuned my senses to catch every nuance floating in the air around me. Thousands of scents assaulted me—men’s cologne and women’s perfume mixed with chemical cleaning fluids. The old, stale smoke, from cigarettes and cigars that had been smoked in this room several years before, still clung to the walls and furnishings.
Focus. Focus a little more.
Several fresh scents hit me at once as they mingled together. Five wolves. None of them Gunner, or anyone else in his pack.
Our pack.
Three of the scents were close by, in the same room—in front of me, but several feet away. All male. The one with the slow, steady heartbeat smelled of spicy citrus. The other two males were aroused. I smelled that, too.
And I’m still...alive.
Obviously, something other than a bullet had taken me down. Whatever it was, it left a foul taste in my mouth. The strange lack of saliva made it impossible to wash it away.
The sounds coming from another room were...disturbing. Muffled screams mixed with heavy breathing and low, urgent groaning. The sounds accompanied a slapping noise—some kind of whip or stick striking against bare flesh. The coppery-iron tang of blood tickled the back of my throat. I could imagine all sorts of things I didn’t want to see, or participate in first-hand. I closed out the sounds from the other room and focused on my immediate surroundings.
Noise drifted in from outside. In the distance: cars, planes, people. The sound of water flowing past accompanied the faint, pungent tinge of boat engine exhaust. I knew the smell of salt water and boats. What I breathed in now was not the ocean. A river, maybe?
My cheek lay against soft fabric. My breath dissipated into a large room. Two of the wolves were sitting, the rustle of their clothes and their heartbeats all coming from a lower angle than the other wolf standing off to my left. I could judge the time of day by sight, but didn’t dare open my eyes, even though doing so would tell me exactly where the entrance was and how far I’d have to sprint to get there. Still, the longer they thought I was unconscious, the longer they might leave me lay, giving Gunner more time to find me.
And he would find me.
He has to find me.
If he didn’t, escape was my only other option.
Either escape or fight.
A low growl came from inside the adjacent room, but I heard every word like a whisper in my ear.
“I gave you one task. One task. I put you above others. I trusted you. Your failure has dishonored me and I will not have your lack of discipline taint my future offspring.”
A muffled sob followed.
A door opened suddenly, startling me for a second.
Slow breaths. Don’t move. Stay calm.
“Go. Take care of that.” Rule’s words were low and sharp.
Two of the males moved into the adjoining room and quietly closed the door.
I knew Rule’s voice and his scent. It mingled with the scents of the other wolves and the thousands of other scents that permeated the room. Still, his stood out above them all. And sex. The musky odor stuck to him, along with another scent so sickening-sweet, my breath caught in my throat as my head swirled and spun like a carnival ride.
“Simone.” His voice pitched low, the hiss of a snake.
A fingertip brushed my cheek. My stomach clenched harder—not from fear, but from something else. Something twisted and...wrong.
“I am surprised to find you awake so soon.”
Truth. He was surprised. Somehow, I knew he spoke the truth. Still so cold, I sucked in a breath and shivered. No use pretending any longer, I opened my eyes and forced myself to glare up at my father, Rule Arawn.
GQ-perfect black hair, with a few silver strands at his temples, framed his hard, dark blue eyes. I glanced at his body: silk suit, silk tie, silk shirt, all black. Besides the reek of semen, the flush in his pale cheeks gave away the fact that he’d had sex within the last few minutes.
I sat up slowly, swung my legs around. My bare feet landed on thick, plush carpet. I glanced around quickly. The long, tan U-shaped sectional I’d been lying on sat in the middle of a spacious room. My eyes wanted to roll up into my head as everything suddenly started to spin. My stomach flipped over as I fought to focus on my surroundings. I stared at the huge, flat-screen TV covering one wall as my stomach settled a bit.
The rest of the furniture seemed high-end, along with the decorations. Next to the sectional, a few steps away stood a large conference table surrounded by nicely upholstered chairs. Beyond the table, a bank of windows, arranged in a half-circle, overlooked whatever was outside and if the information passed to Gunner was correct, I was now in the luxury suite of an expensive hotel in San Antonio.
Rule stepped away, his lips curved, but the remainder of his face stayed hard and unmoving. When I first met Rule, I thought him a well-built male, but now, the contrast between him and Gunner was startling. Gunner’s heavily muscled body was much larger than Rule’s. Gunner’s golden, tanned sk
in and rough calloused hands were proof of his days spent working outside, whereas Rule’s pale, soft skin and dark hair made him appear unhealthy by comparison.
Rule took another step back as he looked at me. “Are you hungry? Or thirsty?”
“Seriously?” Even if my stomach hadn’t been ready to heave, I’d rather starve than take any food from him. I rubbed at my throbbing temples. “What did you do to me?”
“Just a small tranquilizer.” His hands slid into his trouser pockets. “I wanted to talk to you. Explain your situation.”
My situation? “So you sent two of my brothers, your sons, to steal a van, trespass into Comfort, onto the Alpha’s personal property, to kidnap me?”
I paused, waiting for an answer or a reaction, even a denial. Something. Anything. But he gave me nothing.
It was true. My mother hadn’t lied.
Bile burned up the back of my esophagus.
I clapped a hand over my mouth. “Oh damn...I’m going to be sick.” I swallowed down the sudden rush of saliva as I broke out in a sudden clammy sweat.
Rule cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. “Such language. I suppose, after your brief time in the wild, you swear like a brute as well.”
Was that really all Rule cared about? That I’d been corrupted by the outside world? I pushed up from the sectional. Pain shot through my head.
“More like a cowboy,” I grumbled as I tried to steady myself to keep from falling on my face. Though I had only added swear words to my vocabulary very recently, during the heat of passion, it didn’t matter. If swearing got under Rule’s skin, I was going to take it up as my new, most favorite hobby. “Just point me to the damn toilet.”
I looked toward a small hall across the room and to the left. There, in front of the entrance to the room, stood Blaze, still as a statue. Him, I knew.
“The master bathroom is straight ahead through the doors,” Rule offered through clenched teeth. “You are free to shower if you’d like to freshen up, or perhaps a bath to wash away the filth that stills clings to you.”