by Erica Woods
As the shocking fear left my body, I found myself relaxing into the chair and studying the bulky male as he removed an omelet from the pan. If one could get over the sheer size of him, the wild, shoulder length hair, the scruff on his jaw and around his mouth, and the scary frown normally tugging his lips downward, he was actually quite appealing.
In a masculine, untamed kind of way.
“Is that for me?” I asked when he put a plate in front of me, nearly overflowing with food.
A sharp nod, then a groan from the chair next to mine as he sat.
Taking a tentative bite, I hummed in appreciation at the flavor. “It’s good!”
“Hmm.”
“How did you learn how to cook?”
“My sire.”
Sire? What a strange way of putting it.
I took another bite, chewing thoughtfully. “Were you close?”
“No.” His voice was flat, lip curling. “He was a real bastard.”
“Oh, I’m sorry . . .” Sympathy tugged at my heart. I missed my own father terribly, and couldn’t imagine ever describing him as anything less than a loving, doting dad. “At least he taught you how to cook.”
Ruarc snorted. “Had a choice. Eat with the hounds, or learn to cook.”
Appalled, I reached out and put my hand over his.
He stilled and his eyes shot to my face.
“That’s terrible,” I whispered, wanting to offer him comfort.
His eyes shuttered and he pulled his hand away. “Eat.”
It didn’t bother me. I knew how it felt to have a wound inside your soul, pestering and weeping, growing bigger and bigger every day until it threatened to consume you. If he didn’t want to talk about it now, that was fine.
I could be patient.
Someday, though, someday I would find a way to help him. I owed him that much. I owed them all.
“Who hurt you?” The sudden question made me choke on a mouthful of delicious eggs.
“W-what?”
Eyes narrowing, he jerked his chin at me.
Blood froze in my veins. I looked down, half expecting to see some new, undiscovered injury in the vicinity of his nod. Instead, my fear trumpet my confusion when I understood what he meant.
I can’t tell them!
I closed my eyes.
They could never know! Even if I didn’t tell them the reason behind my captivity—only letting them in on the horrors inflicted on me, and by whom—it would end in death.
Either mine or theirs.
The Hunters would kill anyone who tried to help me, regardless if said help came in the form of vengeance or through the justice system. I knew for a fact the Hunters had infiltrated various important branches of the government—local police forces being one of the first.
“I . . .” I shook my head, staring down at the uneaten food on my plate. A week ago I wouldn’t even have dreamed about a meal like this.
“What happened?” A harshly impatient demand.
“I c-can’t tell you.”
“Bullshit!” he growled and jumped to his feet. His silver glare bored into me. “A name.”
“I can’t!” How could I tell him a name, when there were many? How could I sign Ruarc’s death warrant for the possibility that I would be able to sleep at night? There was no way he could take on the Hunters, and that’s exactly what I was afraid he would try to do.
With a savage roar, Ruarc swung around and knocked the empty pan off the counter. The loud, unexpected clatter rang in my ears.
I sat frozen in my seat. It wasn’t until my lungs started burning that I noticed I’d been holding my breath. What was I supposed to do? How could I calm the feral beast in front of me.
The feral injured beast.
For even amongst my fear, I felt his pain as if it was my own. An open, throbbing wound that had the power to fester on the soul faster than it could on flesh.
Spinning back around, mouth open in a savage snarl, Ruarc glared at me. Instead of yelling—like I expected—he paused, took a deep breath and closed his eyes briefly. “Eat,” he snapped, and waited for me to get my shaky hands to obey. The previous delicious eggs tasted like dirt in my dry mouth.
After watching me force down a few bites, he pointed an accusing finger at my leg. “Better not see you trying to walk on your own. Need help, you let me know.”
I nodded my acquiescence, not bothering to inform him I wouldn’t be needing any help. I would get to wherever I needed to go by myself, even if I had to crawl.
The sound of a throat being cleared made me look to the doorway.
Oh no.
Lucien strolled into the room, arching a perfectly sculpted brow at Ruarc before pulling out the chair next to mine.
“May I?” he asked, waiting for my wary nod before sitting.
His politeness made alarms ring in my brain. Granted, I hadn’t spent a lot of time in his presence, but the few hours we had shared had all been doused in miserable embarrassment—for me.
“Ash requested that I take a look at your leg.” His voice was flat, cold eyes somehow managing to convey his distaste at this task.
“About time,” Ruarc grumbled.
I glanced at him, silently pleading for a way out of what I was sure would be a very uncomfortable experience. His crossed arms and raised eyebrows suggested he would not take my side.
“That . . . that’s okay, really. I’m fine.”
“It is not up for debate,” Lucien said.
“B-but . . . it’s my leg.”
He ignored me. With a cold mask of indifference, he rolled up the material covering my injury.
A dark rumble made Lucien pause. “Is there a problem, Ruarc?”
If looks could kill Lucien would be nothing more than a bad memory.
“No,” Ruarc gritted out through clenched teeth. His jaw was so tight it looked on the verge of snapping.
Eyes flashing dangerously, Lucien turned his attention back on my torn flesh. He used both a careful touch and meticulous examination to rule out infection and any worsening—which he icily told me he’d expected someone as weak as me to succumb to—before applying a new bandage.
Letting out a relieved breath as soon as his touch disappeared, I tried to force my tense body to relax. I’d half expected him to be rough. For his fingers to dig into my tender flesh and tear open new wounds. His painstaking, careful exam had been unexpected. Despite the revulsion I had seen in his eyes at the task he had been given, he’d only used soft touches.
Maybe he isn’t so bad after all?
“A contraption made of steel did this?” he questioned. Kneeling on the floor in front of me, a tilt to his head, he would have looked almost earnest if the cold dispassion in his eyes had been absent.
“Y-yes.” And the other, strange metal that slows my healing, I added in my head.
His cynical smile spread across his face. “And your other injuries, the bruises and sprained ribs . . . they occurred during this same fall. The result of stepping on said contraption?”
At my wary nod his smile grew so many sharp edges I worried it would cut me. “How old are you, Hope?”
It was the first time Lucien had used my actual name.
“Twenty-four.”
“Hmm.” His calculating eyes narrowed dangerously, sending shivers of dread up my spine. When the slow ‘tap-tap’ of his well-manicured fingernails striking the hard table reached my ears, my shoulders curled protectively over my chest. A ball of trepidation sunk into my stomach, settling down as if it was going to stay for a while.
“If I am not mistaken, and I rarely am, you informed Jason that you were twenty-three.” He let the evidence of my dishonesty hang in the air, somehow lending more weight to the silent accusation.
How could such a small thing inspire this much fear in me? “I-I must have misspoke.”
“One could wonder,” Lucien continued silkily, “how much of what comes out of your deceitful, little mouth is the truth. Lying about small, inco
nspicuous details, like your age . . . What atrocities are you hiding?”
Rooted in place as the ugly ring of truth in his words wormed its way beneath my flesh, I concentrated on trying to stop my hands from shaking. I couldn’t do anything about the warmth in my cheeks, or the shameful nausea I felt over my secrets, but I could do my best to hide it from them.
“N-no, I just . . . I—”
“Enough!” Ruarc thundered, shooting Lucien a ferocious glare. He stalked forward and knelt in front of me. “You okay?” He searched my gaze, frown deepening at whatever he saw.
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
“She is fine. Scrambling for a story to cover her duplicity, no doubt.” Lucien’s cold eyes bored into me. A chill spread through my flesh, and I trembled.
“I said, enough!”
Even knowing Ruarc’s fury wasn’t aimed my way, I couldn’t help the flinch that drew his heated, silvery glare away from Lucien. Even though he frightened me, something warm uncurled within at the way he’d tried to protect me.
Next to me, Lucien remained unaffected by Ruarc’s rage. Icy composure in place, he pressed his lips together and rose stiffly. Without another word, he left.
Breathing heavily, neck pulled taut, Ruarc gripped the chair on each side of me and squeezed so hard the wood groaned. “Fuck!”
I reached out, hesitated, then put my hand over his. “T-thank you,” I whispered.
His bowed head shot up. As the tension slowly left his body, he bared his teeth in what I could only assume was meant to be some type of grin. “Thought I scared you,” he grumbled.
“Only a little.”
More teeth showed. “Good.” Ignoring my flushed face, he yanked me into his arms and carried me out the door like I weighed nothing.
“What are you doing?” I screeched, clutching at his shirt.
Please don’t drop me.
I had a thing for heights and as tall as Ruarc was, I was sure a drop would be painful.
“Taking you outside.”
“But . . . why?” His long strides made the distance pass in a blur.
“Because.” He kicked open the door, obviously not caring about damaging their property.
“That’s not an answer!”
“Tough.”
“Ruarc!” Despite my fear of heights, my body was relaxed. It seemed secretly thrilled at being handled with such expert care, such strength.
Traitor.
“Female,” Ruarc replied, baring his teeth in another attempt at a grin when I scowled up at him.
“That’s not my name!”
“Hm.”
“Ruarc . . .” I tried to make my tone stern.
“Hush,” he chided.
Why, the nerve!
Deciding to give him what he wanted, I pressed my lips together and turned my head away. Silently fuming, I vowed not to say another word and see how he liked it, the reticent beast.
Keeping my vow turned out to be easy. There was just so much to look at!
Following a trodden path, Ruarc carried me around the corner of the house. Once we reached the patio I’d eaten at just the day before, he turned his back to the house and strode across the lush, green lawn until we reached a row of tall bushes prefaced by a narrow fence snaking the edges of their garden.
Not able to see through the thick vegetation, I’d assumed the fence marked the line between the guys’ property and a neighbor, but I’d yet to see another house or any indication of other people than the four I was now staying with.
Without saying a word, Ruarc opened a crooked gate that had been all but hidden from view—it was oddly charming with elusive designs etched into each pillar and a dash of silvery strands flowing across the top beam.
My earlier annoyance had all but fled in the wake of this beautiful exploration—even if it was from a height I wasn’t comfortable with, and enclosed by thick, muscular arms—but I was determined to not reward his high-handedness by breaking the silence. When he came to a stop, I crushed my curiosity and acted unaffected as I stared down at my hands.
With a low, rough chuckle I felt all the way down to my toes, Ruarc let go of my legs, letting me slide to the ground. The incredible heat from his body, the toned flesh dragging against mine created a reaction I didn’t understand, a reaction that made me blush and step away.
Springy grass met my bare feet. I wiggled my toes and enjoyed the crisp sensation.
Grass. Fresh, natural, wonderful grass.
How had I gone eighteen years without the prickle of nature between my toes?
A gentle touch to my shoulder had me turn around. Ruarc looked down on me with an expression akin to indulgence. His eyes flashed with humor—unexpected and delightful—as he urged my eyes to rise.
I gasped in delight at the sight that greeted me and forgot all about my vow of silence. “Is that . . . ?”
“Yep.”
Oh my.
A whole different world lay behind the ridiculously tall hedges. A beautiful garden made way to several small fields, a pond where a family of ducks were floating in the sunlight, a small stable, and a pasture with four horses and . . .
Is that a donkey?
Blinking at the bizarre animal, a slow smile spilled across my face.
“What . . . what is this?” I asked. My voice was breathless, but I didn’t care. I’d found paradise. Or at least something that looked like it.
Ignoring my question, Ruarc jerked his chin to the bench at my right. “Sit.”
Guess we were back to that.
I stifled the urge to bark like a dog, too grateful to him for showing me this. Whatever this was.
As I sat down I noticed swift movement out of the corner of my eye. Swiveling, I saw a flash of striking gray and brown fur streaking past a gap in the treeline far behind the pasture.
“Did you see that?” I exclaimed, squinting to get a better look.
“No.”
At his clipped tone, I dragged my gaze away from the trees and looked up at him. His jaw was clenched, silver eyes hard.
“It was something big. Maybe a bear?” I wondered out loud.
“Your past . . .” The rough quality to his voice became more pronounced. Deeper. “What is safe?”
I swallowed. How did we get back to this again?
“What do you mean ‘safe’?” I asked tiredly.
His brows drew together like I was the one who didn’t make sense. “To ask.”
“Huh?”
He glared through eyes narrowing in irritation. “Safe to ask,” he growled.
Oh . . .
Warmth glowed in my chest. He was asking me what I was comfortable discussing? Despite his gruff manners, Ruarc was kind of . . . nice.
“My childhood, I guess.” Wasn’t much there, but at least it would give him something else to focus on.
“That all?” Disbelief was clear in his voice.
“M-maybe other things too. Normal things?”
“Fine.” Gritted out through a clenched jaw. “Any siblings?”
I sucked in a breath, feeling like someone had hit me with a sledgehammer. Such a mundane question, yet I hadn’t expected it. My eyes filled with tears and there was nothing I could do about it. “N-no,” I pushed out through trembling lips.
“Fuck!” Ruarc shot out of his seat, pacing in front of me and muttering under his breath.
I didn’t dare move. If I left this bench I was sure I would collapse right there on the grass. Staring down at my feet, I concentrated on pushing unwanted memories back.
Maybe I could get out of this situation without bawling. That would be nice.
I didn’t notice Ruarc moving until I felt his breath on my forehead. When I looked up, his face was inches from mine, angry glare withering my insides. “Just tell me,” he snapped.
“T-tell you what?” I hated the way my voice shook. A tear fell, creating a hot trail down my cheek. I was weak. Weak and scared, just like I’d been my whole life.
Wh
en Ruarc spoke again, his voice wasn’t quite as sharp. “Who hurt you.”
“I—” The rest of my sentence died off when Ruarc spun around and placed himself square in front of me, aggression leaking through his every pore.
“Fancy meeting you here,” a cheery voice called out and Jason emerged from the bushes. Hair disheveled, the top two buttons on his shirt were left open and showing me a glimpse of taut, golden skin. Dirt streaked across one cheekbone, giving him a boyish look, and a few spots marred his blue jeans.
I slumped in my seat. Despite his messy appearance he wore a charming grin, and I instinctively knew he would not pressure me about things I’d rather not discuss.
Ruarc, on the other hand, was dangerous to my mental walls. He was too pushy, too interested in my past. Seeing a woman who’d been mistreated seemed to infuriate him, and I was worried he would dig too deep, maybe even get hurt because of me.
Or find out my secret . . .
The thought of him looking at me with disgust was too much to bear.
Stiff with tension, Ruarc turned back to me. “Hope?”
I knew he wanted me to finish my sentence, but I didn’t know what I’d been about to say. Whatever it was, it would probably have been bad. Revealing.
Instead of answering, I shook my head, a frightened yelp leaving me when Ruarc jerked back. With a dark look at me and a warning growl at Jason, he left.
“Do you like horses, love?” Jason asked lightly, taking Ruarc’s empty seat.
It didn’t seem like the other man’s furious departure bothered him in the slightest. Meanwhile I was still reeling from Ruarc’s sudden mood change. Never had I seen someone who could go from zero to enraged in such a short time.
Shaking my head, I pushed thoughts of Ruarc aside and focused on Jason. “Yes, I do actually. When I was a little girl I was obsessed with ponies. I wanted a pink one. With a silver mane.” I smiled at the memory. I had been so young then. Still believing pink ponies existed. Still believing the world was a safe place.
Jason chuckled, the warm, masculine sound sending spikes of heat over my skin. “I’m afraid we don’t have any pink ponies for you, love. But we do have a sweet, normal-colored one in the stables.”