by T. F. Walsh
I should have left Daan years ago, but when he lashed out at Tianna in his drunken state and I blocked his attack, that was the wake-up call I needed to leave. That was when he threatened to take Tianna away from me. For so long, I stayed to give my daughter a two-parent family. Worst mistake I’d ever made.
Reaching for the bolt lock, I asked, “Who is it?” My voice failed me, sounding weak-assed and shaky. I cursed myself.
A male voice responded, but with the storm’s tremendous roaring, the words were muffled. I clasped the knife with a death grip, figuring it was better to face the guy without Tianna here. Then I would try to steer him away, giving us time to escape.
Finding my backbone, I ripped open the door and thrust out the knife in an attack posture. The air jerked out of my lungs at the sight of the stranger from town, and my heart raced. Shit, shit, shit. I’d been right. Daan had sent this guy, and my daughter would be ripped from me. All I wanted to do was curl into a ball and pretend this wasn’t happening.
His deep midnight eyes locked onto mine. His cheeks and nose glowed red. His body curled forward. Layers of snow covered his shoulders and head. In his arms, he held a limp, white fox.
Stunned, I stood there, immobile. What was he doing?
The softness and desperation behind his gaze had my inner wolf reacting with a whimper, not a growl, the kind she only offered wulfkin she befriended. Or was she sensing the fox—a meal?
“What do you want?” I demanded.
Wind whistled around the stranger and into the house. His quivering intensified, and I tried to ignore the enticing musk reaching me, teasing my senses.
His lips had turned white, and his teeth chattered. “I-If you’re going to s-stab me, do it fast.”
“Why are you here?” I waved my knife at the fox. “What’s that for?” Was he thinking I’d lower my guard because of the animal? To distract me?
“I . . . I’ve lost feeling in my body, can I . . . I come in?”
“No!” Could I live with myself if he froze to death on my front porch? If it kept Tianna safe . . . hell yes. “What do you want?”
He stepped closer, his gaze bouncing over my shoulder. Was he searching to see if anyone else was home? Like a boyfriend he might have to fight? Or Tianna—which meant he didn’t know she wasn’t here. One small thing in my favor.
I held my ground, gripping the knife between us, yet it felt as if someone choked me. “You’re living dangerously.” I raised my blade.
He released a longer breath, and half stumbled on his feet. His shoulder leaned against the doorframe as if exhaustion had worn him out.
“Speak fast.” An avalanche wouldn’t drive me back or let him cross the threshold.
Except, when he straightened, his eyes rolled backward. His arms dipped with the fox tumbling from his hold.
I stepped closer and caught the largest Arctic fox I’d ever seen with one arm.
The stranger’s knees buckled, toppling him forward.
I jumped backward as he crashed face first into the rug and lay there. Was he dead?
The unconscious fox remained in my arms, while my head spun with confusion. “Why carry a fox?”
Chapter Four
VINCENT
Had someone hit my head with a hammer? Every joint ached. Why did the air stink like rot and wet dog?
When I opened my eyes, I flinched at the blade pointed in my face. Everything came streaming back—visiting my parents in Lapland, the storm, the Arctic fox, the log cabin with lights. Seemed the house belonged to the strange wulfkin who’d smacked me in the face with a door at the general store. Should’ve known then that she was trouble. And now she stood over me, still wielding her weapon. Had she held the knife there while I was passed out? How long had I been unconscious?
“What the hell’s going on?” My gaze swept past the crazy lady, noting my surroundings. I lay on a couch inside a brightly lit house. Fire in the hearth crackled and spat embers into the metal guard across from us. A tiny Christmas tree in the far corner glinted with a rainbow of lights. Pink kid’s boots stood in front of the glass doors. Whew. No torture chamber in sight.
The wulfkin again waved the blade in my face, the sharp tip promising to draw blood. “I ask the questions, buddy.” She stood over me, clad in tight jeans and a stretchy black shirt. If she weren’t impaling me with her intense glare, then I’d be interested in learning more about her. Packs were required to take in wulfkin in distress or danger, yet she acted as if I would gobble her up.
The fear behind her narrow gaze deepened. A terrified person, especially one holding a knife, was capable of irrational things. Last time I faced a blade-wielding lunatic who insisted he had a right to enter the Varlac castle, I ended up covered in cuts and passed out from blood loss, but not before I kicked his butt back to wherever he crawled out from.
So, this woman’s knife had to go.
On the bright side, she wasn’t an insane kidnapper. Otherwise, I’d be in a basement or worse. Despite my nerves bristling on edge, I got a strong whiff of her sweet candy scent, which called to my wolf. Long hair tumbled over her shoulders—a shimmering reddish blonde akin to the blaze in the fireplace. The palest blue eyes contrasted with her dewy skin. Her features perfectly rounded down to her inviting rosy lips.
“Who are you, and why are you following me?” Her voice climbed an octave, and a crease formed on the bridge of her nose.
A sharp pain had accumulated behind my eyes, and my head felt as if I’d been shaken, not stirred. “Was I hit by a truck?”
“You fainted.” She shrugged a shoulder. “Happens if your core body temperature lowers dramatically. Your blood vessels were constricted, so they were carrying less blood and oxygen to your brain.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” When I lifted my hand, it snagged on something. My wrists were bound across my stomach with pink rope extending to my tied ankles. No boots. Nothing about this wulfkin made sense.
“Pink rope?”
“Hey, you’re tied up, aren’t you?” Her lips pursed to the side of her mouth, and for a wild moment, I imagined myself kissing them. Insane. Now I knew I’d hit my head hard because my dating history included crazy girls, and the last thing I wanted was another one.
“You can untie me now, but this isn’t my idea of rough play. If bondage is involved, I do the tying up.”
She shook her head. “What are you doing in Susi?”
“Well, a storm hit, then I saw the dying fox, and your house was the closest shelter.” I fidgeted against my restraints, searching for leverage. When I bent my knees, the ribbon slackened, as did the ties around my wrists and ankles. As a general rule, I hid my emotions whenever I’d gained an upper hand against my enemy. That was my poker face. But in that moment, the craziness of pink rope and how badly I’d been tied up left me smirking.
She glanced down at my hands, and I straightened my legs, not revealing my discovery.
When she met my eyes, I wriggled my hands free. I’d have to teach this wulfkin how to tie people with no chance of them escaping. If she didn’t cut me first.
“Liar.” Her voice spiked. “You just happen to arrive in town and arrive on my doorstep? I know who you are, but I haven’t worked out the fox angle yet.”
A chuckle burst free, slow at first, then rolling deep from my chest. “I doubt you know me.”
“Stop laughing at me.” The blade bit into my neck, the cold tip sending a trail of goose bumps on my arms. This chick meant business.
“You’ve had your fun. Now, either put that knife away, or I’ll have you under me before your next exhale.”
“Ha ha.” Her eyes rolled as if my threat weren’t serious.
Free from the restraints, I snatched the hand brandishing the knife, and forced it away from my face. I tightened my grip. “Drop it.”
She gasped, her mouth twisting in pain. The blade fell from her grip, landing somewhere behind the couch.
Good. At least she listened.
In a swift move, I swung my legs over the side and pulled myself up. Before she had a chance to think, I grabbed her hips, pulling her close. Inches apart, her frightened gaze widened, but my wolf lapped up every second. Her cherry lips parted, calling me, tempting me for a taste. Bad timing, boy.
With a frown capturing her expression, she thrust her palms into my chest and recoiled.
“Who are you?” I asked, still holding her tight against me, which wasn’t helping my inner wolf stay at bay.
When she tried to back up, she tripped over something behind her—my boots—and tumbled sideways onto the couch, drawing me with her. I lurched forward from the momentum. One hand perched on the back of the couch, the other against a cushion alongside her shoulder. My body pressed on top of her, and she was deliciously sweet. I sniffed her perspiration, a sugary fragrance, and blood. But beneath lay her flesh—raw—akin to her delicious wolf scent. And my wolf roared to attention, inhaling her.
An angry huff of air escaped her lips. “Get off me.”
“Told you I’d have you beneath me. Anyway, your wolf doesn’t seem to mind.” I sensed it surging through her veins, swelling with excitement, and mine responded with the same fervor.
She squirmed. “Shut up.”
“I don’t manhandle women unless they insist, but I’ll make an exception for you. Now, tell me who are you and why you tied me up.” What exactly was her story? Most people who introduced themselves with a knife first came with a trainload of baggage.
Her glare could decapitate someone, and maybe she was tougher than I’d first given her credit. “I’ll never let Daan get Tianna. Last time I warned him I’d kill the next goon he sent. So your luck just ran out.”
A tidal wave of bewilderment rattled me, and I pulled back slightly off her body. “Wait, what? Who’s Daan?” My head spun from her confusing words.
The deep guttural growl of her wolf wavered between us. She lifted her chin, her mouth pursed and eyes fixed on me.
She shoved her palm into my shoulder. My elbow gave way and tipped me sideways, throwing me off balance and landing me on the floor with a thud. She scrambled over the arm of the couch, then faced me in an attack posture with curled hands raised.
I climbed to my feet, convinced I’d walked into a situation that had nothing to do with me. “Look, maybe we’ve—”
Her right hook clipped my face. Not enough to send me reeling back, but a shattering sting reverberated through my skull.
“Damn. Where’d you learn to hit like that?” Back in Hungary, I’d spent months teaching seasoned guards to hit with such precision.
She stood there with her skin vibrating as if she were ready to shift into her wolf form. No chance of talking if that happened. Just fangs and fur. I had no intention of hurting this wulfkin, especially when I was uncertain about what the hell was going on.
I stepped back and raised my palms to show her I posed no danger. “There’s been a misunderstanding.”
Behind her, I noted the white fox sprawled across the kitchen counter. Next to the animal laid several interesting metal instruments. Medical supplies? “What did you do to the fox?”
Her gaze didn’t leave me. “He had a cut on his back leg. I stitched him up. Now, who are you? And did you hurt the fox?”
She was a doc or vet? That explained what she said about constricting blood vessels and stuff. I swiveled my stinging jaw from side to side. She really did throw a devil of a punch. This one had obviously been trained to defend herself and knew how and where to hit someone. Admiration? But at the same time sadness that she’d obviously had to learn this for some reason.
But she didn’t act like a hunter. “I’m in town visiting my parents for a two-week vacation.” My secondary reason for visiting Susi had zilch to do with this little minx or anyone else in town. It was between Manu and me, though right now even I didn’t know what exactly that meeting would entail. I’d find out soon enough, but Varlac matters were never to be discussed with general wulfkin. “And I found the fox tangled in tree limbs not far from your place.”
“Where are you from?” With her gaze never leaving mine for more than a second, she retrieved the knife from behind the couch, grasping it so tight her knuckles turned white.
Boy. Someone had hurt this wulfkin so much that she was ready to take on someone twice her size. That weighted heavily on me because no one ought to harm a female or a child.
I released a long breath and backed toward the kitchen, studying the white fox, whose little chest rose and fell in slow motion. Coming clean on who I was might put Cacey at ease, but then again, most wulfkin who met Varlac for the first time tended to go into a strange panic episode. Had a lot to do with the older Varlac leader who wasn’t shy to punish anyone who didn’t follow his rules.
“I live in Hungary, a quick flight from here, and work as the second-in-command to the Varlac alpha. You’re safe around me.”
Her mouth dropped open, eyes widened.
Yep, the deer-in-headlights reaction was normal.
“Bullshit. Try again, but use a more convincing lie.” With the knife still in her grip, she folded her arms just below her breasts. Even though we weren’t touching now, I still felt their softness crushed against my chest. Not huge, but a perfect fit for each hand.
“Come closer and I’ll show you.”
She arched an eyebrow.
“Suit yourself.” My gaze swept the room to the vase of mistletoe on a side table and several plush toys scattered on the carpeted floor. Even a basket of wrinkled clothes sat near the hallway. A family home with children, probably only one given the single pair of small boots near the back doors. Photo frames dotted the wall in the corridor of a young dark-haired girl. No sign of the father. Was that why this minx was so jumpy and ready to slash her knife around? She’d had to fight to protect her child.
Her jawline set, but she tilted her chin up once. “Show me this so-called proof.”
I turned my head away from her but leaned my right ear nearer. Any wulfkin who worked with the Varlac received a tattoo with three tear marks. The ink behind my earlobe declared I’d been accepted into a Varlac family, and my loyalty would always lie with them.
“Shit! Are you in Susi to kill someone?” Her voice trembled, and I studied the fast steps she took as she recoiled away from me.
“As if.” Why did everyone jump to the worst-case scenario? Why couldn’t I be here to protect someone?
“You’re a Varlac. It’s what you do.”
“I don’t blame you for the misconception. I guess the Varlac clan should spend time on their image. But like I said, I’m here on a short vacation to visit my parents.”
She stood across the island counter from me as if my presence would cause her harm.
“You should leave.” Her voice quivered.
Outside, the wind battered the trees and howled a menacing song. The house continued to creak with each gust. Past the French doors leading to the backyard, snow was already half a foot deep along the porch. My attention shifted to the overpacked bag in the corner. What had frightened this wulfkin away from a safe haven in the storm?
“Neither of us are going anywhere tonight.” I made my way to the fireplace to dry my clothes and calm the chill settling in my bones. Sure, she seemed ready to claw my throat out, but I’d take my chances with her over the snowstorm ripping through the woods.
“Don’t tell me what to do. And maybe I don’t feel safe near a Varlac. I might call our alpha.” She still held on to the kitchen blade as she stalked toward the hearth.
I smirked. “You’re safer with me than anyone else. And go ahead, call Manu. Tell him I said hi.” I stuck out an open hand. “We should try this again. I’m Vincent.”
She stared at me but didn’t return the gesture. Her body was slender, but she had enough curves to make me imagine her in the nude and us eating breakfast in bed.
Once she reached the other end of the large fireplace, she halted. “So, who are your p
arents?” A distrusting tone underlined her question.
“The Lyalls. They live in the small cabin—”
She gasped. “The deepest one in the woods. Brita’s your mom? She’d mentioned her son’s name was Vin. That’s short for Vincent, isn’t it?” Her mouth gaped open, and her gaze scanned me as if trying to find similarities. Though most people said I took after my dad with his solid frame.
I nodded.
Her weary expression softened. “You have her chin and eyes. I’ve treated your mom’s injuries for the past week after her nasty accident in the woods. A broken hip isn’t an easy thing to heal, especially for an elderly wulfkin.”
“Really? I can’t thank you enough for taking care of her.” Something inside me softened because maybe this wulfkin was more than she appeared. She’d helped my mom, and for that, I was at her mercy.
“She’ll be fine with rest, if your dad can keep her indoors. But she never told me she had a Varlac son. She’s so proud, and beams each time she says your name, but it never occurred to me you were in the ruling clan.” She paused for a moment, focusing on the blaze. “I’ve never met a Varlac before. The stories I’ve heard paint you as . . . ” Shadows danced behind her eyes. “I’m gobsmacked. And your parents are so sweet.”
“Who says I’m not sweet?”
She shrugged in a way that said she didn’t believe me in the slightest. And if I were in her position, after being fed years of threats from the Varlac, I wouldn’t trust me either. Except I reported to the new Varlac leader, Marcin. He believed in helping wulfkin; he wanted to unite packs, not terrorize them with rules. Marcin intended to implement changes that would improve all wulfkin lives, and for that reason, I stayed by his side. But of course with the old regime still permeating the European packs’ lifestyle after centuries of power, changing old behaviors was never a straightforward approach. It would take time.
Now if I intended to share a roof for the night with this minx, I’d make her see I wasn’t the typical Varlac everyone feared. She’d see that the ruling pack was changing and for the better.
A scratching sound came from the kitchen. I jerked around to find an empty counter. “Hey, where’s the fox?”