by Lia Davis
Travis bit back the pain that rocked through his body. Fury built inside him and called the internal flame he kept contained since the night his burned his den down. Heat grew in his cells, consumed him fully until he glowed in a reddish-orange hue.
The mutant’s eyes grew round in fear with the knowledge that Travis held the power to call fire at will. Or, in this case, out of pure rage. Travis snapped his teeth and growled at the half-wolf, half-man, then slammed his paw into the creature’s chest and shoved the heat into the mutant. The fire consumed him in a flash of orange and blue flames.
Travis whirled away from the screams of the burning male and froze. Several feet away another male, this one in human form, crouched over the still body of a female. A low growl escaped from his throat as he charged. Travis barreled into the large male. He tackled him to the ground and bit down on the male’s neck, hard enough to break through the skin and bone.
After throwing the dead male aside, Travis shifted back to his human form and went to the female. Crouching down beside her, he pressed two fingers to her throat. Relief washed some of the rage away when a weak pulse fluttered under his fingers. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her home.
It took ten minutes too long to reach his small one-bedroom cabin. Once inside, he carried her straight to the bedroom, flung the comforter back, and laid the female on his bed. As soon as her leg touched the mattress, she groaned in pain. Frowning, he walked to his dresser, grabbed a pair of joggers, and put them on.
He went back to the bed and sat down next to her, jarring her hip. Another painful groan made him pause. He lifted her sweater to undo her jeans so he could look at the wound. When he touched the button, she flung opened her eyes, screamed, and swung her arms wildly.
Damn it.
He fought with her for a few seconds before he got hold of her arms and pinned them to the bed. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Her eyes held a wild fear he hoped never to see in a female again. The claw marks etched into both her cheeks fueled his fury more. He breathed in then out slowly.
Calm down before you scare her more than she already is.
“My name is Travis Hunter. You’re safe.”
She blinked then looked around the room. “Where…am I?”
He growled low in his throat. The tremor in her voice cut through him. “My home.”
She tried to break from his hold, and he tightened his grip. “You’re safe. I killed the rogues.”
The woman stilled and searched his face, the wildness still heavy in her blue eyes. “You’re a wolf.”
He smiled and nodded. “And you’re a tiger.”
“A white tiger.”
To match her white-blond hair. “And a beautiful one.”
She offered a weak smile, but her scent still held fear and anxiety. He loosened his grip on her arms and sat on the bed beside her. She tried to move away, but cried out and he instantly stood to hover over her. “What is it?”
“My hip…”
He laid his hand on her thigh. “I’m going to have to touch it to see how bad it is.”
“Are you a Healer?” The hope in her voice almost too much to bear.
He shook his head. “No, but I know what to look for.”
On her reluctant nod, he touched the top of her leg where it met her hip and felt his way around to her ass. When she sucked in a gasp, he cursed. It was dislocated. Fuckin’ rogues. Locking gazes with her again, he said, “I’m going to have to pop it back in place.” He moved off the bed then looked down at her. “I’ll be right back.”
When she nodded, he quickly walked down the hall to the bathroom. Opening the linen closet, he grabbed a couple of washcloths and the first aid kit. He moved to the sink, pulled out a small basin from underneath, and filled it with warm water. Stopping to regain some of the little humanity he had left, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. He had a cut below his right eye, and blood discolored the ends of the light brown curls that lay on his forehead. No wonder she was scared of him. He looked like a rabid dog.
With a heavy sigh, he returned to the bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed, and rolled up one of the washcloths.
He handed her the rolled piece of terrycloth. Her forehead creased as she frowned at it. He sighed, placed it in her hand, and crawled farther on the bed to kneel between her thighs. “Put it in your mouth. On the count of three, I’ll pop your hip back in place.”
He took her thigh into his hands. She placed her hands on his forearms. “Wait.”
He waited as she placed the washcloth in her mouth, picked up a pillow to clutch to her chest, and buried her face into it. “Ready?”
She nodded into the pillow. With a quick jerk, he popped her hip back into place. His heart skipped a beat when she screamed into the pillow. He rubbed her outer thigh up to her hip to message the tension out of her muscles.
She lifted her head and removed the washcloth from between her teeth. Her blue gaze shone with moisture, her chest heaving in ragged, painful breaths. “Thanks,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome.” Travis gave her a gentle smile and moved to sit next to her. He dunked the clean washcloth in the basin. After ringing the excess water from the cloth, he raised it to her face and cleaned the scratches. With each touch, she flinched, but she said nothing.
The female was captivating and exotic. She might be a tiger-shifter, but there was something else in her blood. He’d scented it when he first arrived at the scene in the forest. His wolf shifted uneasily under his skin. The animal part of him wanted to bite, to see if she tasted as good as she smelled.
Shaking free of the thoughts that he shouldn’t be having, he focused back on the situation. Meeting her blue glaze, he frowned and asked, “What’s your name?”
“Shayna. Everyone calls me Shay.”
He repeated the name softly and liked how it rolled off his tongue. “Why were you out alone and on my property?”
He raised his hand to clean her wounds, and she gripped his wrist. “Your property?”
“Yes. Hunter’s Ridge, just north of the Tennessee border.”
She shook her head. “Not possible. I was hunting and lost track of time…” She looked around the room for something then back at him. “What time is it?”
“Almost nine-thirty.” He searched her face, wondering what was going through her mind. “Are you okay?”
She shook her head again. “I left home after dinner and ran for about an hour. I don’t understand how I got so far north.”
“Were you in tiger form?”
“Yes, but it’s not like me to lose the sense of where I am.”
He set the basin and the washcloth on the nightstand. “It’s easy to get distracted during a run.”
“You don’t understand. I spent my whole life training and focusing on my surroundings so I wouldn’t end up somewhere I’m not supposed to be.” Her eyes widen and she peered nervously around the room again. The metallic scent of fear rolled off her.
Travis fought the urge to touch her. “Were you angry? Running from someone? Upset?”
She stared at him for a moment then dropped her gaze. “I argued with my father.”
Not wanting to pry into her business, he stood and went over to his walk-in closet and pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of sweats. He walked back to the bed and held out his empty hand toward her. “Would you like to take a shower?”
Her face brightened, making him smile. “Oh, yes.”
“Come on then.”
“No.”
Of all the times to be stubborn. “No?”
“Not with you.”
The scent of panic rose from her and he offered her a gentle smile and said, “I only meant to help you, not bathe you.”
Her cheek flushed, and she bit her lower lip. “Oh.”
Lifting her chin, she gestured for him to go first. He grunted and took her arm when she tried to stand. She protested, knocking herself off balance. When she straightened, she sucked
in a sharp breath. Travis gripped her elbow and pulled her into him, trying like hell to ignore the electric flow of energy that nipped at his skin. She felt too right tucked into his side.
“Lean on me until your hip can carry your weight.”
She didn’t look at him, just nodded, but he could smell her irritation. He wasn’t sure if it was because of him or herself. Maybe a little of both.
She straightened again, leaning into him to balance on both legs. Breathing in and out slowly, she stood for several moments before speaking. “Okay, I’m ready.”
He led her down the hall to the bathroom. He stopped, handed her a pair of sweats and a t-shirt, and stepped aside to allow her to go in on her own. She limped in and shut the door before he had the chance to go in behind her. He chuckled and spoke loud enough that his voice would carry through the wood. “Fresh towels are in the linen closet, and toiletries are in the right-hand drawer.”
He waited a few seconds before hearing a soft, “Thank you,” and turned toward the living room.
***
Shay hobbled to the vanity and opened the drawer had Travis mentioned. She smiled at the travel-sized shampoo and conditioner bottles and the mini-bars of soap scattered about. She took one of each and carefully turned to the shower.
Her hip ached, but at least she could kind of walk on it, thanks to Travis. Images of the way his curly brown hair swayed when he moved and the way his golden-brown eyes held compassion and strength entered her mind. Her skin warmed, and her breathing increased. When the feverish feeling spread to her belly and lower, she stilled. Oh, no. Not now. She couldn’t be going into heat.
But, she was.
It had to be the reason why she felt the need to be away from all the males in her life. The argument with her father fueled her frustrated mood, and then the stress from the rogue attack must have brought the cycle on.
Just her luck. She was in a strange house, miles away from home, and at the mercy of a sexy wolf.
And boy, was he sexy; in an alpha male kind of way.
Shaking away thoughts of Travis, she steadied her breathing and turned on the shower. She adjusted the temperature to be a little cooler than she normally liked, hoping it would relieve the feverish feeling. She carefully undressed and bit back the pain of lifting her leg out of her pants.
She cringed at the high wall of the tub. That was going to hurt.
Once inside the tub, she straightened to stand evenly on both feet and breathed through the pain. She stood still for a minute, then stepped under the sprays of the shower.
“You are so being a baby,” she muttered to herself and proceeded with bathing.
Fifteen clumsy minutes later, she turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, feeling clean and in a little less pain. It was good to be a shifter. A human would be confined to a bed for at least a couple of days after a dislocated hip, but Shay, like other shifters, was already starting to heal, and the pain was now bearable.
She towel-dried her hair and put on the clothes Travis had given her. One look in the mirror made her giggle. His sweat pants were way too big. Hell, she and Cam would be able to fit in them at the same time. Shay frowned and tied the drawstring as tight as she could. The thought of Cam saddened and frightened her. Her family would be looking for her by now. She had to call them somehow, to let them know she was alive.
She opened the bathroom door and went searching for her host.
Stepping into the hallway, she heard rustling in the bedroom. She straightened her shoulders, hobbled into the room, and froze. Travis stood at the entrance of the closet, his bare, sun-kissed back facing her. She watched his muscles bunch and flex as he bent to pick something up from the floor. Her skin heated, but, unlike in the bathroom earlier, the warmth not only moved to her abdomen, it spread over her whole body, pulling a sigh from her.
Travis straightened, turned, and met her gaze. His nostrils flared as if scenting something she couldn’t. Maybe he does. She studied him as he prowled toward her like the wolf he was, stalking his prey. After what she’d endured, she should be afraid, but that emotion was pushed aside by a desire she’d never experienced before.
He stopped a few inches from her and she had to look up to hold his gaze. Lifting one hand, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. She suppressed a moan when his fingers brushed her neck. All too soon, his fingers vanished, but he leaned in a fraction of an inch, sending her pulse racing.
“I’m taking a shower. Make yourself at home.” He walked around her, and she moved to sit down on the bed before she fell.
Shay took several deep draws of air, trying to regain some composure. Seriously? Could she behave any more like a horny teen?
Now that she was clean and more alert, she surveyed her surroundings. His bedroom was duller than Blaine’s. White wood blinds covered the windows, almost blending with the white walls. No pictures hung on the walls or sat on the dresser or nightstand. In fact, the only visible personal effects in the whole room were his clothes inside the closet and a duffel bag on the chair next to the window. That was odd. It was as if he didn’t really live there.
Fear sparked through her. If this wasn’t his home, then whose was it?
She stood and tested her weight against her hip and leg, wondering how far she’d get before he came after her. Or, worse, sent the rabid wolves to chase her down.
Okay, Shay. You’re being silly.
If he was working for the rogues, why would he bring her here to heal? He would have killed her by now. Wouldn’t he?
Limping to the window, she paused at the duffel bag. It sat unzipped and opened. She moved closer and craned her neck to peer inside. She spotted a silver picture frame, and curiosity got the better of her. She lifted the picture out of the bag, and a small gasp escaped her.
The photo was of a beautiful woman with caramel-blond hair and the darkest emerald-green eyes Shay’d ever seen. The woman cradled a small female version of Travis on her lap. The little girl looked to be around two, but Shay wasn’t sure. She had always been bad at guessing people’s ages, especially children.
Focusing back on the little girl, Shay noticed she had her mother’s eyes, Travis’s curly brown hair, and a warm, carefree smile. The type of smile she couldn’t help but fall in love with. Shay felt her lips lift in a smile, and then she noticed Travis’s scent mixed with soap and shampoo drift into the room. She snapped her attention toward the door and flung the picture behind her back.
Fuck. She was caught being noisy.
He strode toward her and extended his hand. With shoulders dropped, she brought the photo from around her back and placed it in his open palm. She watched him peer at the picture. Pain and sorrow rolled off him and slammed into her. A whimper rose in her throat, and she covered her mouth with a hand.
Something terrible had happened. Her vision blurred, and he lifted his gaze to meet hers. With great care, he placed the framed photo back inside the duffel bag. He extended his hand again—this time his mood was softer. She placed her hand inside his and instantly heat raced through her body and touched every nerve ending. She pulled her hand back and started to sway. He gripped her elbow to steady her, and she was grateful for the support.
He helped her lie on the bed and felt her head. “You’re burning up.”
Great. She focused on Travis, searching his face. His brows were drawn together and he narrowed his eyes at her. It was the flare of his nostrils that pushed her to change the subject away from her ‘condition’. “Tell me about her. The woman in the photo.”
He frowned and looked away. Sadness returned, but not as strong as before. The only reason she asked was because she wanted something to occupy her mind. She was about to tell him to forget it when he spoke. “Mara was my mate. We lost her two years ago, four days after that picture away taken.”
Tears pooled behind her lids. “I’m so sorry.”
He turned his head back toward her and stared for several moments before speaking. “She
gave me a beautiful daughter, Josie.”
The little girl in the picture. Shay liked the name Josie. It fit her. The pride in Travis’s tone when he spoke his daughter’s name made Shay’s heart swell.
Without thinking, she placed a hand on his cheek. Warmth seeped into her palm, spread down her arm, and continued until her body was overtaken by the intense need to possess the man and wolf in front her. Sliding her hand into his soft, damp curls to cup the back of his head, she pulled him down until their lips touched.
A growl rumbled in the back of her throat, then turned into a purr when Travis’s arms wrapped around her, drawing her tight against his chest. His tongue licked the seam of her lips, and she opened. Heat spread inside her, intensifying with each brush of his tongue against hers. A searing need made her sex ache for his touch. She pressed closer into him with no sense of relief.
She let her nails glide up his still-damp back. He shuddered right before he released a low growl and pushed her back against the soft, cool sheets of his bed.
Travis raised his head, drawing a whimper from her. The absence of his lips and bare chest made her long for more. Her whole body ached, and her skin was so hot. The dizzying need made it hard to think of anything but possessing the wolf holding himself over her. The gold in his eyes dominated the soft brown as his own desire reached out to her.
With brows drawn together, he watched her. She grounded her hips into his erection through the denim. Then he shook his head as if clearing it or trying to regain control and said, “You’re in heat.”
She flinched at the words and dropped her shoulders.
Damn.
She looked away, shamed at the realization that she was entering her heat cycle.
“It’s your first,” he growled, but it wasn’t in anger. No, she smelled, and felt his desire.
Embarrassment stole her words, and she refused to look at him. She heard him sigh, and then the bed dipped as he pushed to sit next to her. “I don’t have any herbs here.”