by Rebecca Main
I capitalize on the moment, pivoting into a powerful roundhouse kick. It hits, and Keenan stumbles back. The gathering of wolves lets out excited crows as I plow forward. Just as Keenan did before, I crowd into him, relentless as ever, and drop to the ground to deliver a punch to the back of his knee.
On a regular person, this combination would have taken my opponent to the ground. But not Keenan. The giant man wobbles slightly then rights himself. The next thing I know, I’m on my back. The crowd groaning with me as we land. But I refuse to be cowed into submission this time, even if the weight of Keenan’s body is too much for me to knock off.
“Cheating, huh?” he asks, the closest to breathless I have heard from him all evening.
“You’re the one who nodded back,” I counter, “and it wasn’t cheating per se.”
Keenan lets the weight of his flushed body dig into mine a bit more. “It was definitely cheating.”
I lock eyes with Keenan and wrap a leg around his hip, arching so that my body presses into his sensuously. His eyes visibly darken as he inhales sharply through his nose.
“Sometimes you have to play dirty to win,” I whisper into his ear, letting my body writhe beneath his.
Cracks of gold emerge in his eyes as he visibly gulps, unwilling to take his eyes off me as I boldly hold his gaze, even if I color at the catcalls we receive from the crowd.
“Calliope,” he growls, hips shifting forward ever so slightly even as his hold on me lessens. “Stop.” I don’t, earning an extra loud holler from Quinn as I hook my other leg around Keenan’s waist.
“Now why would I do that?” I ask breathlessly, not at all bothering to hide the sudden grip of lust as I rock my hips against his. His growing arousal presses intimately against my core. It leaves me overly attuned to the fact that he need only angle forward a tad more to hit my sweet spot.
“Holy shit,” I hear Atticus exclaim, echoed by several of the other males. “Should we… intervene?”
Quinn scoffs, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her steal the popcorn bowl. “Absolutely not,” she says loudly. “Show ’em what you got, girl! Those hips don't lie!”
With my legs locked securely around his waist, Keenan has a rather difficult time extracting himself from me. Though he dutifully tries. The action frees up my hands, and so I defiantly drag my nails down his chest and over the slick abdominal muscles he possesses. Keenan grits his teeth at the action, but not from pain. His length hardening further to press more insistently against the V of my thighs, earning him a soft moan.
The minor sound is all it takes to break the large man. He swoops downward, hands diving into my hair and dragging me up to meet him in a searing kiss. One I don’t fight.
Now this is the type of “beneath a man” I can get behind—well, under, to be exact. The world fades away as his lips claim mine in a bruising kiss, the shouts and encouragement from the wolves dying out in my ears as his guttural moan intones around me. I purr back encouragingly, and almost falter when his hips grind back down into my own.
“What the hell is going on here?” Xander roars. That’s my cue. Keenan stiffens above me, pulling back to stare at me wide eyed just as I deliver a knock-out punch right between the ribs.
“Omph!” Keenan glares as my next punch aims dangerously close to his groin. And then we are flipping over so that I am on top. “Cal—” My forearm and elbow in his throat cut off his exasperated plea.
“I said what’s going on?” Xander shouts again. Keenan’s arms are splayed comically to the side to show he is no longer touching me inappropriately.
“Do you tap out?” I pant, continuing to throw my weight into his throat. My hips sink down into the still very present hard-on he possesses, but nobody else but me can see. Keenan holds my eyes with a fierce glare and slaps his hand on the ground.
Quinn’s squeal of excitement is pitched particularly high, but I laugh and smile regardless, peeling slowly off Keenan so that he can adjust himself. Xander strides over to us, his face a mixture of displeasure and amusement. I shrug my shoulders at the man and stand.
“Just showing your fifth how it’s done,” I casually remark as I snag my water and toss Keenan his. He remains on the ground, staring up at the sky.
“She cheated,” he explains with a half-hearted sigh.
“You should have seen it, Xander!” Quinn calls. “It was pay-per-view level shit.” I keep my back to the wolves as they yammer on excitedly, taking off my knuckle and hand wraps.
“We’ll make pack of you yet, Callie,” Ryatt shouts, earning a few hearty cheers. The comment has the unusual effect of souring my mood, discontent riding through me as his words brand themselves across my mind.
“Thanks for the fight,” I murmur, slipping out of the ring and vanishing away into the house.
+++
Baths are great for many things. They offer great solace when one wants to be left alone. Provide “shelter” to people during natural disasters. They can even make a fine gin. Tonight, I solicit its services to soak away my aches and pains, and have been, for the past forty minutes. My toes nudge the hot water back on, filling the tub up precariously high to rewarm the water.
Why did I let Ryatt’s words get to me? Why?
My eyes slip close as I contemplate my indisputable answer: I’m afraid. Afraid that I’m letting go of my dream to be a Stellar Warrior. Afraid that I have accepted Keenan’s deal too easily and let down my family and friends. Afraid that I’ve taken the easy way out of my problems with the Wardens and will be branded a traitor and coward. Afraid that I don’t mind as much as I let on.
What am I going to do?
Today had been a huge flop. I’d learned next to nothing about Nova’s whereabouts. JJ will be leaving soon. And I’m getting a little too comfortable around the wolves. The stresses are piling up like building blocks, teetering tenuously as I continue to add to their load. And then there is the soulmark.
Absentmindedly, my palm covers the fateful brand.
I don’t know why I’m letting myself get so worked up about my future. In reality, it’s already been narrowed down into two paths. Accept the soulmark and the pack or somehow return to my people and eventually go mad. To do either would be an act of betrayal. One that I might not survive. To put it simply, I’m screwed.
The water splashes as I rub my hands across my face, disturbing any chance of tears spilling. A strand of hair falls from the loose topknot I wear. The end instantly becomes soaked and sticks to the side of my neck. With a nudge of my toe, I turn the running water off.
“Callie?” Keenan’s soft voice breaks me from my reverie.
The door to my bathroom squeaks open, a veil of steam momentarily obscuring Keenan from view. When it clears, I note his eyes are steadfastly downcast. He steps in, clearing his throat a mite awkwardly as he shuts the door behind him. “You’ve been in here awhile.”
“Yep,” I reply, making sure to pop my P. “It’s all right, you can look. I’ve got a ton of crap in here, so the water is murky. Your eyesight isn't that good.”
Keenan hesitates a moment before his eyes find my face. “You left pretty abruptly.”
“I’m aware.”
“Why?”
I sigh, averting my gaze to the green-tinted water made courtesy of a bath bomb. “I just didn’t want to be gawked at anymore.” I steal a look at his disbelieving expression, confirming what I already know: he doesn’t believe me. I wouldn’t either. I might be a decent liar and able to keep my cool under duress, but there’s just some things you can’t hide. Especially not when a pack of wolves is studying your every move.
“I brought you something.” He presents a basket, which looks comically small in his hand. I’m surprised I didn’t notice it before and peer at it curiously.
“What is it?”
“They’re special bath oils. The witches—”
“Pass.”
We stare at each other in a silent standoff at my abrupt reply. I have no desire t
o ease my aches and pains using magic. I convey my determination to Keenan silently, and with an exhale, he walks toward me. Taking a knee by the side of the tub, he places the basket next to one of its clawed feet.
“It’s here if you need it.” My chest tightens unusually. “And I know I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again, Callie. I’m here for you if you need me. You can trust me.”
I swallow down the wild and desperate desire to hold his words close. To bask in their warmth, security, and sincerity. It’s just the soulmark, I remind myself. I pull my knees to my chest and hug them close, my chin resting neatly upon them.
“You must really like the sound of your own voice,” I respond blandly, the words forced. It's a fact I’m all too aware of as my floundering emotions surface too close to the edge. When did it become difficult to force disdain? When did he move from enemy to....
I shut my eyes to the torment of my thoughts and reach blindly for the washcloth hanging along the edge of the tub. When my hand bumps into another, I flinch in response, eyes startling open only to watch with bated breath as Keenan slips it in the water before running it across the length of my back.
“I’ve never heard that one before,” he responds gruffly. “People tend to mock me for my silence if anything.”
“I would have thought they’d take a jab at your sparkling personality,” I rasp, mildly stunned by his gentle treatment. His eyes stay steadfast upon his work, never venturing toward my look of wonder or the nervous sheen of my stare.
Keenan runs the washcloth from shoulder to shoulder, then in small circles on my back. “Despite all the shit you tossed in here,” he says, “I can still smell your distress. It’s faint, but it’s there. I know we don’t really know each other, but you can talk to me. I’m a good listener if nothing else.”
I scoff, brow pulling into an effortless scowl as I direct my regard toward the wall in front of me. Keenan doesn’t pause once in his ministrations, nor his attempts to get me to confide in him.
“I’m your soulmark, Callie. You’ve got me to watch your back for the rest of your life. No questions asked. I know it’s not the most appealing thing to you,” he tells me. “You’ve made it plenty clear on your views of the supernatural, but I hope you can see past that. See the man in me and not just the wolf. I might not always have the right words to say, or any for that matter, but I’m dependable. Reliable. I take pride in my work and make an honest living down at Nate’s Family Auto Shop in town. And when something is mine, I take care of it.”
I shrink out of his touch with a roughened gasp, eyes flying toward his earnest expression. Words feel stuck in my throat. Thwarted by what’s left of my pride. He had said it himself, hadn’t he? I turn my gaze back to the wall, breath falling in steady puffs. I have my beliefs. I’ve been taught the horrors wrought by Keenan and his kind—of all the supernatural. Yet a reckoning of doubt shouts at me to believe otherwise. Keenan is… he is….
“I’ll leave you to finish up,” he says softly, draping the washcloth back along the edge of the tub and preparing to stand. Say something, say anything, Callie, I think desperately to myself, but no words surface. Keenan begins to rise, and I feel the trickle of disappointment lance through our soulmark. It breaks my resolve. There is too much disappointment rounding out my horizon. Tonight, I could be spared from it if just for a little while longer.
My hand shoots out and grabs hold of his wrist, gripping onto it like a lifeline. He stills, his eyes digging into the side of my face as I stare into the water. My grip loosens enough to slip down further into his open hand, fingers curling tentatively around his calloused palms.
Keenan sinks back down slowly onto his hunches, before maneuvering himself into a more comfortable seated position. His fingers remaining locked on mine until the water grows cold around me. And even then, I realize with chagrin, I don’t want him to let go.
Chapter 15
Down the Rabbit Hole
There’s something to be said about the importance of human contact. Of human connection. How the simple pressure of skin upon skin eases doubts and provides reassurance that you’re not alone in the world. Or the deep comfort it provides as some roughened grasp holds you together. How it effortlessly proves you are alive.
I didn’t realize how much I craved it until I came here. Nor how quickly a few casual touches would turn into something more meaningful. I’ve become enraptured by spotting it amongst the pack. Everyone touches one another. A hand upon the arm. A warm embrace. A bump or a nudge in jest. The absentminded caress of one to another. They are always touching, these wolves. Always connected. Always in contact.
The Wardens of Starlight didn’t teach me that. And for all the support they provided me throughout my life, cheering me on from the sidelines or securing me scholarships, they never were quite adept with human connection. The Wardens of Starlight connect with the cause, and it’s in that they are connected to one another. We don’t hug. We rarely shake hands. Nova was the only exception. She didn’t seem to mind casually touching, but only with me. You'd think they'd act differently, more affectionately, considering the dangerous nature of our job and our rather short lifespans as a result.
I adjust the bracers on my wrists, thoughts slipping to last night. When the water had finally run cold, Keenan helped me from the bathtub. Eyes averted like a gentleman. After securing me in a towel, he placed a kiss on my head and left. The bracers were left on my bed for me to find.
It’s early in the morning when I wake. Early enough that I don’t expect to run into anyone as I make my way downstairs to head to the indoor workout room. The weather is awful outside, with rain and wind beating against the house in a fury. When I near the gym, I stop short, hearing Keenan arguing with Xander.
“She might be your soulmark, brother, but she’s dangerous. I’m not letting off on the guards with the bracers back in her possession. Especially since her brother is set to leave in an hour. She might go after him,” Xander tells him. “Speaking of, I thought I remembered telling you I wanted to see the bracers. I don’t remember mentioning you giving them back to her.”
“You did see them: outside yesterday, specifically. And you’re right, you didn’t mention giving them back to her, which is why I did,” Keenan responds smoothly.
“They make her stronger somehow,” Xander gripes. “I don’t want her lashing out at one of the wolves.”
“She’s not going to.” There's a brief pause. "And Ryatt brought it upon himself yesterday. He's not upset about it; we talked." I inch closer to the door. Xander’s next words are slightly muffled, but Keenan’s are crystal clear. “Callie is smart. She’s not going to try and sabotage the pack out of malice. She’s not like that.”
“I didn’t realize spending two days with her let you know her well enough to say that,” Xander challenges somewhat caustically.
Keenan lets out a soft warning growl. “She has honor and lives by a code. She’s a warrior. And yeah, maybe her whole life she’s been told to hate us, but that doesn’t mean she does. At least I hope she doesn’t. I don't think she does.”
Xander remains silent for a moment before responding. “I don’t think she hates us, brother, but she sure as hell doesn’t like the position she’s in. I hate to think she’ll be unhappy here, but I have to do what’s best for the pack. Which means—”
“I know what it means,” Keenan replies resentfully. I straighten at the strict sound. “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“No,” Xander says with a sigh, “it doesn’t.”
The floor creaks underneath me as I lean my ear closer to the door. A furtive silence follows, and I mentally scold myself. No use in hiding now, I think. Without a second of hesitation, I walk through the door and come face-to-face with the two wolves.