by Sienna Aylen
They sat under the shade of a huge willow tree while she waited for Damien to finish. A pleasant breeze cooled the back of her neck and lifted up strands of her hair from where they lay sticking to her temples. Dirt was caked under her fingernails and she was sure there would be some on her face, but she didn’t care. Every muscle in her body was sore but it felt good. Each twinge of her muscles was a reminder of all they’d accomplished in the span of one afternoon.
Tyler crossed his arms behind his head. “Okay, I’ve got another one for you. What’s the best way to impress girls?”
Emma’s gaze went to Damien when she responded, “Chivalry. Take notice of her likes and dislikes. Give her your undivided attention when you’re with her. The small things may not seem like much but they have a bigger impact than you think.”
Tyler’s mouth turned down in a grimace. “Really? That’s it?”
Emma laughed at his disbelief. “Unless you’re interested in a materialistic girl, then you’re on your own. Most of us females don’t need much to be happy, just make her feel special. Make her feel like she’s important to you. That’s it.”
Relaxing, Emma couldn’t help but admire the way Damien worked. Muscles rippled and flowed with each swing of his hammer. His back was tan and had a sheen from his sweat. She had been right, he worked for those bulging muscles with hard labor, not weights.
He finished the last row of shingles and attached the hammer to the tool belt that rode low on his lean hips. Climbing down from the roof, he waved to a willowy woman with curly black hair walking up the drive. Emma watched with a tinge of jealousy as Damien pulled the woman into a giant shirtless hug and kissed the top of her head.
She realized her jealousy must have shown on her face when Tyler laughed. “That’s just Damien’s sister. Lysa probably has some goodies for all of us. My guess, cookies.” Lysa. His sister. Okay, Emma felt like an idiot. It was just a kiss. It didn’t mean anything, didn’t give her a claim on him. Right? Keep telling yourself that, Emma, maybe one day you’ll believe it. It had been an incredible kiss, one that blew every other kiss she had experienced out of the water. It didn’t mean that they were a couple, but she wouldn’t just sit by while he was with another woman, either.
That ‘other woman’ is his sister. S.I.S.T.E.R. Ignoring the snarky voice in her head, she got up and ambled over to meet her. Just because he was her Fated didn’t give her the go-ahead to become a jealous twit, foaming at the mouth every time an unknown woman so much as spoke to him.
Damien probably flirted with women all the time. She wouldn’t be surprised if he had flocks of women waiting for a chance to tango with him between the sheets.
The thought didn’t give her any comfort.
Lysa nudged Damien and nodded in Emma’s direction. “Is she your mate?”
Damien took a bite of one of the peanut butter cookies Lysa had brought for the work crew. “How’d you know?”
“Are you kidding me? You smell like cupcakes. You always did work fast when you set your sights on something.” Taking the other goodies out of her truck, she whispered loudly in a singsong voice, “I also saw the two of you making out in the garage.”
“Keep that information to yourself for now. She doesn’t know yet,” Damien admonished.
As long as Emma remained oblivious to his machinations, then he was safe. If she knew why he’d scent marked her, or why he had touched her in front of her sisters, she would probably eviscerate him. Damien knew he was getting to her, though—multiple teenagers had commented on her fixation with his muscles. Even Rafe, Gene and Jeff had come over to ask him questions about her. Good-naturedly he’d sent them all back to work on the cabin after making it clear she was off-limits.
Finishing his cookie, he grabbed for another one, but Lysa slapped his arm away. “Leave enough for everyone else.” She then pushed past him and pulled Emma into a hug.
“Hi, I’m Lysa. Damien’s sister. You’re Emma, right?” Without waiting for an answer, she plowed on, “I already met your sister Tessa, she’s such a peach. We swapped a few recipes when she came over yesterday. I’m trying my hand out at her double-fudge chocolate cake to bring to dinner tomorrow night.”
Seeing the questioning frown on Emma’s face, she clarified, “Didn’t Damien tell you? The whole family is coming over for dinner tomorrow night, and you and your sisters are invited. It’ll be great. Mom’s making her famous pot roast. After dinner Dad is planning a bonfire with s’mores and my cake. It’ll be fun. Do you know how to dance?”
Damien took in Emma’s slight nod and stifled a grin at the frown she shot him. He couldn’t help himself. He was determined to go slow but that frown was his downfall. He didn’t even try to resist the urge to kiss it right off her face. Fitting a finger under her chin, he tilted her lips up for a quick, blistering kiss. These kisses were meant to entice and tease her but they affected him just as much. Leaning back, he grinned. He tucked a stray piece of her hair back behind her ear, noticing he was right, kisses did make the frown line between her brows disappear.
Deciding the best course of action would be to go ahead and explain himself before she became irritated with him again, he locked an arm around her waist. “No, I didn’t tell you. I was going to when we got back to the house. I figured if I told you this morning, you might have said no. I was counting on the work to make you hungry, then I was going to lure you there tomorrow with promises of Lysa’s chocolate cake.” He waggled his eyebrows and she rolled her eyes.
Emma took two steps backward in retreat. “It’s really disconcerting that you keep invading my personal space.”
Following her step for step, Damien threaded his arm back around her waist. “Like this?”
Emma blew out a sigh. “Just because you can kiss doesn’t mean you get a get-out-of-jail-free card, Damien. I don’t like being touched, ever. About tomorrow, I was going to suggest meeting everyone anyway, to get a feel for the land and the Clan dynamics.”
Damien tugged at the end of her braided ponytail. “You’ll get your chance at dinner tomorrow night. Right now, we both need showers and food. We’re pretty much done here for the day, anyway. I just have to put my tool belt away and then we can go.”
Emma smacked her hands against his chiseled chest and pushed him away half-heartedly. “Good. I’m hungry.”
* * * *
Back home and fresh from the shower, Damien rifled through the fridge to find himself a snack. One jar of mayo and a few slices of ham, lettuce, tomato and cheese became the makings of a ham sandwich. Shutting the door with his hip, Damien dumped the pile of ingredients onto the counter. He slathered the mayo onto a slice of bread with a knife.
Tessa sauntered in and jumped up to sit on the counter. “Mmm, you want to make me one?”
Damien met her cheeky grin and smiled. “Sure, if you answer some questions for me.”
Swinging her legs back and forth, Tessa didn’t hesitate with her answer. “Okay, but I want a pickle to go with my sandwich, too.”
Stacking cheese and lettuce on the bread, Damien then added ham and tomato before topping it with the second slice of bread. He dropped it on the plate, opened the fridge and pulled out a jar of dill pickles. “Done. How long do you and your sisters plan to keep your jobs?”
Taking the plate, he handed her, Tessa sank her teeth into the sandwich and swallowed before answering, “We didn’t plan on having them this long, to tell you the truth, but we can’t retire until we train the Next Generation.”
After flipping a pickle onto her plate, Damien began making his own sandwich. “What do you mean ‘Next Generation’?”
Tessa licked a spot of mayo off her lip. “Our Next Generation. We have to find an individual who has the same gifts that we do, then train them to take our place. Our protégés, so to speak.”
“How many other people have the same gifts that you do?” Damien finished making his own sandwich and placed the ingredients back in the fridge.
Tessa took up a n
apkin. “One…well, two, technically. The Council member before us and the one we have to find to replace us.”
Damien took a bite of his sandwich and swallowed. He was already thinking about his and Emma’s future together, and the more information he had to work with, the better. “So, when Emma finds her Next Generation, she can retire?”
“Emma would have to train them first, which would take years, especially if her Next Generation is really young. Once the training is complete, Emma would ideally retire and enjoy life.” Tessa bit off a chunk of her pickle before placing the other half on what was left of her sandwich.
So, if they found her Next Generation, then she could retire and stay there with the Clan. The idea had a lot of appeal. If she wasn’t working, then she wouldn’t have to travel. She could make her home with the Clan and take on the role of Alpha female instead. But first they had to find it. “How do you find your Next Generation?”
“That’s the thing, there is no specific way to go about it. We’ll find them when fate decides it’s time to find them, and until then, we keep doing our jobs. I’ll give you a piece of advice, Damien. Don’t worry about where Emma might be going tomorrow or the next day. Live in the moment and make every second count.”
With a flounce, Tessa hopped off the counter and skipped up the stairs with the rest of her sandwich.
Damien stood there thinking long after she left.
* * * *
This complicated things.
Damien had scent-marked the red-headed Council bitch.
Claimed her as his own.
Eyes narrowing, he tapped one finger against his chin. He hadn’t seen this one coming, couldn’t have predicted it. A wrench in the works.
A small voice in his head piped up. So what if he marked her? If she gets in the way, then we’ll use our leverage. If she isn’t agreeable, then she becomes collateral damage. No one will stop this.
They had promised if he followed their directions, he would become Alpha of the entire region. Would take back what was rightfully his, what he deserved. What that family had taken from his own—his heritage and rightful place. Once the region and the bears were his, then he would make his own rules. He would be unstoppable.
No one knew what he was doing and no one could connect him to the incidents. He had been careful. Cautious. Smart. His intelligence was unparalleled, his cunning remarkable. He held the upper hand. Had an ace up his sleeve just in case everything else went south.
He walked back into the dark confines of the sheltered cave, then dropped the pack he carried onto the damp ground. Stooping, he retrieved a hunk of bread, a few bottles of water and two granola bars from the backpack.
He had built a prison of sorts in the corner. A feat of construction, with two walls the hard rock of the mountain and the other two metal bars he had painstakingly put together over the past year, taking the metal up the mountain and doing the construction in the dead of night.
Once locked in, it would be hard for even a shifter to escape. He knew because he had tried out the bars himself, while in bear form. They didn’t budge. It was the perfect enclosure. Reinforced steel beams supported the structure, with only four inches of room between the bars. A masterpiece. It would be impossible for its three current occupants to break out.
He fit the rations through the bars, where they dropped to the ground with a soft thud. If anything, the two younger boys shrank back farther into the corner behind their sister. She was a quiet one, the oldest of the three, her stare unblinking. She hadn’t said a word to him since he had brought them here.
Not one.
She spoke with her brothers in hushed whispers when he wasn’t close enough to hear but she always gave him that unwavering stare. He was tempted to permanently blind her, taking away the precious gift of sight, but unfortunately it was against the rules.
The rules would be obeyed…for now.
He couldn’t mess this up. It had taken them almost six years to locate her. Finally, they had found her in a sad excuse for an abandoned shack with her two brothers. After spending so much time hunting her down, he wouldn’t ruin everything by causing permanent damage to his prize.
Midnight-dark hair framed a face that could have been carved out of stone. A straight nose, almond-shaped eyes and a thin mouth couldn’t hide the small amount of baby-fat that would thin out and be defined further with age.
It was too bad she wouldn’t live long enough to see it.
He didn’t need to bother with the younger ones but they were handy for keeping her in line. When they finished serving their purpose, she would watch them die by his hand. Their screams would echo in a glorious symphony through the cave.
Once he claimed the Alpha title and took over the territory, she’d be his present to the others. A thank-you note of sorts. Until then, he was to keep her here, tucked away where those bitches wouldn’t be able to find her. Apparently, they had been looking for this particular girl for ages. A grin twisted his mouth at the thought that he had outsmarted even them, the ancients.
The others would kill the girl to ensure their own survival. Knowing them the way he did, it would be a slow and painful death. He almost wished he could be there to watch when they did it. It was bound to be deliciously brutal.
Until then, he could do whatever he wanted with the future Council member.
Chapter Eight
#xa0;
The cloud was suffocating, stealing her breath. Hissing voices penetrated through the fog, surrounding her with their foul breath. Faces from the past swirled in the vaporous haze, muttering and cursing her name.
Witch. Freak. Abomination.
One face rose above the rest, the knotted beard and jagged scar distinctive of one man. Morighan. As his cloudy form spit and raised a hand to strike her, his face morphed and changed until deep-gold eyes stared back at her. Outcast.
With a bolt, Emma came up fighting. Metal glinted in the moonlight as the knife sliced through thin air. Deep breaths echoed across the bare walls. Her heart pounded in her chest. Dropping the knife, Emma wiped the sweat from her brow. One glance at the shadows told her it was still night. Activated by her motion, the electric clock flashed the time against the wall as she exited the bed.
Two hours, that was it. Two measly hours of sleep.
It was only midnight. It seemed like days remained until the sun would rise. Emma found herself pacing the floor of her room, thirteen steps in one direction, then thirteen in the other. The fabric of her pants swished around her legs with every step. She couldn’t help but think about the day before— The best sleep of her life and the best kiss. But even the memory of his kiss couldn’t distract her from the horror of her nightmares. Thinking about them made her skin crawl and bead with sweat. Now that she knew what it was like to sleep without nightmares, having to endure them again made them seem worse than before.
Focus. You can do this. You’ve lived with them for centuries, one more night won’t kill you.
A familiar inner voice whispered in her mind, But you don’t have to anymore. Go to him. He can help.
Footsteps silent across the floor, Emma almost gripped the doorknob before she caught herself. Two doors and a hallway stood between her and a peaceful slumber. But she couldn’t—she wouldn’t —make herself dependent on him. This was her burden to carry, no one else’s. No matter how tempting it was to throw caution to the wind, she knew once she took a step down that path, there would be no return.
Pacing back to the bed, Emma grabbed her blanket and pillow. She spread them out on the floor then sat with legs crossed and tried to clear her mind.
Five hours until morning. That wasn’t so long, right?
* * * *
It was. It really was.
Dark circles marred Emma’s eyes when she dragged herself out of her room five hours later. She couldn’t stop herself from continuously yawning through her hasty breakfast before moving to the office for the conference call she’d scheduled with her sisters
to check in and update their statuses.
Emma, Tessa and Gwen had commandeered the upstairs office for their call since the men were using the office on the first floor to take care of Clan business. It was a spacious room with a single solid oak desk in the middle surrounded by three plush maroon chairs. Picture windows lined one wall, framing a stunning view of the forest beyond. The other three walls were filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Poetry, fiction and biographies. A book lovers’ paradise. Gwen had taken a liking to the room—the first thing she’d done when they walked in was to scan the walls for any titles she hadn’t already read. Surprisingly enough, she had been able to find a few novels that were new to her.
Sitting across the table from Tessa and Gwen, Emma could see her sisters were not getting much sleep, either. Their dark eyes matched her own and lines of strain marked their faces too. She wasn’t sure what kept them awake into the wee hours of the mornings but she knew each of her sisters had her own personal demons to contend with. Her own burdens to carry.
When Emma yawned for the hundredth time that morning, Gwen slapped her book shut and met her gaze with one raised brow. “Couldn’t sleep? Usually you look tired, but today you keep yawning. If you don’t stop that shit, it’s going to spread like a flesh-eating disease and both Tessa and I will end up yawning too.”
Stifling another yawn behind her hand, Emma mumbled, “Too late. Tessa just yawned. I didn’t get any more than three hours last night, if that. It’s making me more tired than usual.”
Gwen rolled her eyes. “Join the club. We’re all insomniacs apparently.”