by Erica Woods
A beat of silence followed Ruarc’s outburst, then Lucien visibly stiffened. His spine straightening until it looked so taut I was surprised it didn’t snap straight off. “Very well,” he said, moving past us to pull a container out of the fridge. His eyebrows rose as Ruarc moved with him, keeping himself between me and Lucien at all times. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he said in a dry voice. “I’m not going to attack the chit.”
Ruarc’s only response was more of the same, deep rumble from before. This time, having experienced it once before, I let the sound carry through my body, filling the empty parts of my soul, and rejoicing in its radiance.
Nothing else existed but that sound, that feeling. Everything changed as my vision adjusted to make room for something I didn’t understand.
The quiet luster of the sun suddenly seemed to shine with a brilliance that surpassed anything else I’d ever seen. Bright light spilled in through the uncovered windows, casting a warm glow over the kitchen that banished all shadows and left the room as luminous as the brightest of pearls. The white kitchen tiles no longer looked white, instead they shimmered an almost golden color and made the space seem less utilitarian and more of a home.
No sound could be heard over the deep, growling thunder echoing through Ruarc’s broad chest. A song of power, of hunger, of need, it silenced all else, as though every creature felt the need to quiet down and listen to the powerful display of the male in front of me.
Even Lucien held his tongue as he stared at Ruarc with an expression I’d never seen on his face before. All his movements had ceased, it didn’t even look like he drew breath. His mouth parted, a tiny space between his lips that revealed even, white teeth.
“Have you gone mad?” he breathed, a look of horror stamped across his perfect features.
Another rumble, then Ruarc’s deep voice as he denied the accusation. “No.”
“You cannot be serious!”
“I am,” Ruarc snarled, rolling his tense shoulders.
The display before me shot shivers of need down my back. A clawed hand clutched at my heart and made its beat uneven. Painful.
What was happening? The crackling tension between the two men had the back of my nape prickling with sensation. I was lost. And uncomfortable. Something was happening here, something important that, for the life of me, I couldn’t understand. All I knew was that my skin crawled, my heart felt too big for my chest, my gums itched, and my body felt too small.
Too fragile.
Something inside me wanted to tear out and greet the radiant world I’d somehow stumbled into.
Oh, no! I clutched at my chest as sudden, violent terror surged through me, momentarily stealing my breath and my thoughts with it.
It’s happening, oh no, oh no, oh no!
I silently chanted a refusal in my head, gaze darting around the room to look for a way out. The brightness was receding, shadows once again appearing in every corner, every hidden nook and cranny until the dark was all I could see. The monster had only escaped once. And the one time I’d been too weak to contain it I’d lost everything . . .
And taken an innocent life with me.
“You cannot mean to . . . with her! Have you—” Lucien’s surprisingly heated voice was quickly lost to the insidious fear slithering through my mind. The sound of voices arguing faded out, and their cadence changed.
“ . . .clearly terrified.”
“None of your—”
“It is if she—”
Too busy struggling with my panic, nothing registered until Lucien stood shoulder to shoulder with Ruarc, both men staring down at me with such strange expressions a part of me took notice and pulled me back from the panic that had taken root.
Lucien, who was always hard to read, looked strange. His normally composed face was drawn, tension seeping into lines around his mouth. There was a strange flickering in his eyes, like two emotions warred within him, neither relenting in their unwavering struggle to be victorious.
Ruarc, on the other hand, was much easier to read. Even in my scramble to push back the advancing terror rapidly taking over my body, I could see his pain as clearly as I felt my own. His face was twisted into a savage grimace; hurt and anger fought for supremacy in his glowing, silver eyes.
“Would never hurt you,” he said. The words sounded torn from his throat, painful and raw, drawing me out of my panicking mind.
“W-what?”
Ruarc huffed, releasing a stream of hot air that left my skin tingling where it touched. The strange crawling in my skin receded. The monster calming.
Thank you, god!
“Not gonna hurt you,” he muttered.
“I . . . I know,” I said, confused by his statement, and further confused when Ruarc’s brows lifted in surprise.
“You know?” Lucien asked slowly, staring at me like he’d never seen me before.
“Y-yes.”
“Then why are you reeking of terror?”
Ruarc glared at him but didn’t interrupt. He watched me with a strange intensity, waiting for me to explain myself.
Shivering, I wrapped my hands around my stomach. I couldn’t tell them about the dark thing living inside me. “I-I wasn’t.”
Ruarc’s gaze hardened, and my stomach clenched with shame. The thought of disappointing him made me want to crawl in bed and stay there for at least a week.
“I mean . . . I—” I swallowed hard. If I couldn’t lie and I couldn’t tell the truth, what option was left? “I . . . I don’t . . . I would prefer not to say,” I finished lamely, peeking up at Ruarc.
His was the approval I craved.
It was easy to ignore Lucien’s disbelieving look, the suspicion gathering in his cold eyes. He’d made it clear several times that he despised me, that he thought I was a fraud, a liar, a . . .
Stop it, Hope, I scolded myself. You don’t care what Lucien thinks, remember?
Ruarc, on the other hand . . . His opinion meant a great deal to me, and I desperately wanted him to understand that I was trying. My solution wasn’t perfect, but at least it was the truth.
Ruarc’s hard eyes studied me, almost urging me to speak.
Keeping my mouth shut and the excuses at bay was difficult, but I didn’t want to lie to him again, to see angry disapproval form on his face.
After a few seconds he gave me a begrudging nod, sending pangs of relief through my strained muscles.
“This is insanity,” Lucien muttered, a tired note overtaking the chill in his voice. “With your”—he gestured toward Ruarc, who bared his teeth in reply—“and not pursuing answers. Do you not want to know why she is scared? At least find out before—”
Ruarc’s jaw clenched, and he jerked his head once, an angry, non-verbal ‘no’ stopping any further protests. “But,” he growled, pinning me in place with the force of his glare, “we will talk about this soon.”
Swallowing hard, I gave him a tiny nod all the while telling myself it would be okay. The next time he brought it up, I would tell him I wasn’t ready and after enough time passed he would forget all about it.
Right?
Lucien turned his frown to me. Something lurked in his eyes, something I hadn’t seen on him before and couldn’t quite understand. The way he looked at me, head slightly tilted with an expression of deep concentration, made me think maybe he didn’t understand me either.
When he noticed me staring back his eyes shuttered, face once again an unreadable, cold mask.
“Come.” Ruarc’s sudden command startled me. Almost as much as the heat from his hand on my lower back as he urged me toward the door. “Let’s eat.”
The sudden change of topic left me reeling. “B-but the food is here,” I said dumbly and strained my neck to look at the empty mugs we left behind. I still hadn’t gotten my hot chocolate.
“She’s right, Ruarc,” Lucien interjected. It annoyed me that his voice could sound so smooth while practically freezing in his mouth. “The food is, indeed, here.”
Ru
arc didn’t stop or look back. “Take-out.”
I knew what take-out was, but only because it had been the source of an argument between my jailers one day. One of the Hunters had left the premises during guard duty to get take-out, explaining how he had been hungry and only one store around offered food to go. He hadn’t thought it was a big deal, since there was another guard stationed with him.
I had never seen that particular guard again.
“No, please, let’s just eat here,” I pleaded, stopping in the doorway. I wasn’t ready to go out in the real world. What if a Hunter saw me?
“Why?” Ruarc studied me, one brow arched in challenge, and I suddenly understood what he was doing. He wanted me to communicate, to reveal things about myself. Like why I didn’t want to leave the house.
“It’s . . . easier?”
Ruarc’s scowl grew more pronounced. “No,” he snapped. “It’s easier with take-out.” He grabbed my hand, entwining our fingers in an intimate hold that sent flutters to my belly. “Come.”
“Excellent,” Lucien interjected, the set of his hard mouth suggesting he found nothing excellent right then. “I could use some food myself.”
Ruarc let go of my hand and slowly turned. “What?”
Lucien ignored him, quickly ducking around the bigger male when it looked like a fist to the jaw might be imminent. He walked ahead of us, probably not even noticing Ruarc’s angry growls or the way he tugged me along behind him.
“Ruarc . . .” I dug my heels in and refused to move. The grip around my wrist didn’t so much as tighten, its owner too in-tune with my movements. As soon as I stopped moving, he did as well. “I really don’t want to go.” Just thinking about leaving the safety of the house made fingers of dread crawl up my spine.
“Why?” Ruarc asked in a dark voice, making it abundantly clear that I would be going unless I had a valid reason not to.
My brain chose that moment to cease all functionality. “Uh . . .”
“What I thought.” Ruarc’s angry strides were far longer than my own and after a few steps he ended up dragging me behind him. As we rounded the corner I bumped my hip into the living room table.
“Ow!” My free hand immediately went to rub the offending area, and I almost crashed into Ruarc’s back when he came to an abrupt stop.
Silver eyes raked over me, pausing at my smarting hip. Was that a hint of remorse softening his gaze. “Let me see.”
“Oh, it’s . . . it’s nothing.” I didn’t want to bare any skin in front of him, especially not when Lucien was waiting by the door, an inscrutable expression on his cold, marble face.
A roll of silver eyes, a muttering about ‘foolish females,’ then I was yanked up into strong arms and pressed against a wide, powerful chest.
“W-what are you doing?” I squeaked, flailing until Ruarc’s arms tightened around me in a firm but gentle warning to be still.
“Better this way,” he muttered, not really answering my question at all. A gentle touch to my neck was followed by his big paw-like hand as it stroked absentmindedly down my back while he walked.
As soon as he carried me out the door, shadows leapt in my soul and my fear intensified. The brisk breeze slapping at my face chilled me more than it should have, while the warm rays of the sun barely registered.
“Keys?”
Ruarc’s voice renewed my urgency, and I racked my brain trying to think of a reason he would accept as to why I had to stay. I instinctively knew if I told him about the danger I was in he would lock me in the house and never even suggest us leaving again, but I couldn’t tell him. And he wouldn’t accept a lie.
The warm scent of spring washed over me as Lucien passed us. His skin seemed almost luminous where the sun-kissed its flawless surface. “I have the keys.”
I shuddered when Ruarc’s arms tightened around me. “I’ll drive,” he said and waited for Lucien to open the door to the passenger side, then carefully arranged me in the seat. Before I could offer a single protest, he’d locked the seatbelt in place around me and gotten in on the driver’s side.
And so, unable to think of a reasonable excuse as to why all of this was completely unacceptable—struggling to think at all when I’d been held in Ruarc’s strong, firm arms—we left the safety of the house and ventured out into a world infested by danger, Hunters, and whatever other monsters went bump in the night.
28
LUCIEN
I had to be out of my mind. It was the only reasonable explanation as to why I’d joined this ridiculous venture. Spending time with the human girl was high on my list of torturous activities, but after Ruarc’s demented display what choice did I have?
What had possessed the male to offer Challenge for the ridiculous, dishonest, deceitful female? And why did that fact prod at my temper and cause everything inside me to tighten?
A humorless half-smile tugged at my lips.
This. This was why I abhorred emotions. They made you weak, preyed at logic and rational thought. And should they take root and touch your soul, you risked a festering wound that could ultimately destroy.
“W-where are we going?” Hope asked in that quiet, unassuming voice of hers. The voice that screamed prey and innocent and helpless, all things meant to lower a male’s guard for the surprise attack that was sure to follow.
Manipulating. Deceiving. The whispered mistrust coiled like a snake ready to strike, originating in the rational part of my brain, the part impervious to the human’s beguiling, brown eyes and soft manner.
I flexed my jaw and stared out of the window. Now, more than ever, it was imperative that I discovered the girl’s secrets. I could not let her trap Ruarc, nor could I allow my stubborn brother to make a mistake he was sure to regret for the rest of his life.
A life that would be severely shortened if he does what I fear he will.
I clenched my fists, purging my mind of all preconceptions in an effort to better understand the strange female with the utterly ridiculous name.
Hope. Who in their right mind would name their child thusly?
“Depends.” Ruarc glanced at me in the rearview mirror. I had opted to sit in the back to easier observe the girl and her interactions with the male she’d set her sights on. “Lucien’s not picky.” He turned back to the little wench while keeping one eye on the road. “What do you want?”
“W-whatever is closest.” Hope wrung her small hands in her lap. The twisting limbs held my gaze as the same unfamiliar feeling I’d choked on when Ruarc’s intentions had become clear rose once more. It took great effort to keep the troublesome emotions at bay and my expression closed.
Squash it, I silently commanded. Feelings are for the weak.
I was here to observe, to learn, and to make sure Ruarc did not fall for the human’s many lies. Why could she not answer a simple question with a simple truth? Why did she shy from innocent questions, evade all inquires as to her past? What dark secrets hid behind those eyes that revealed every lie?
Though, not every word from her luscious lips was a falsehood. I was loath to admit it, but some aspects of her tale made sense. Take her apparent inability to make any kind of decision on her own, for example. Many times I’d watched panic cloud her expression when faced with even the simplest decision, like what to eat for breakfast. A plausible explanation for this debilitating weakness could be a more prolonged captivity than we had first believed, which fit with the few crumbs of story she’d fed Ruarc. Indecision was a failing often acquired after a lengthy period of being denied choices.
Or after invariably being punished for making the wrong ones.
Rage rose with a quickness that nearly stole the breath from my lungs. The amount of punishment it would have had to take for this result to solidify . . .
A growl stirred in my chest.
The light crinkle of abused leather as Ruarc squeezed the life out of his seat reached my sensitive ears and broke through my fury. If I hadn’t been trained from an early age to hide my emotions, my
face would no doubt have been twisted with the same anger reflected on Ruarc’s scarred visage.
I suppressed a snort of disdain. Ruarc never could control his emotions; they ran hot and close to the surface.
Keeping my expression blank, I examined him. The tension around his mouth spoke of words unsaid, the bleakness in his eyes of a quiet anger. He was troubled. Deeply so.
The idiot cares about the girl. A fact that had become painfully plain during his display back at the house. His claim had come as a horrifying surprise, not simply because she was human, but because of the reaction it had inspired in me.
“Burgers or pizza?” Ruarc asked her. There was a warning in his voice the girl would be smart to heed.
When she failed to reply, I found myself leaning forward, interested in what she would say. Too interested.
But I needed to understand the chit. If I didn’t, how would I be able to stop her from destroying our pack?
Swallowing hard, she threw me a quick glance before lowering her lashes and addressing Ruarc, “W-what do you want?”
Ruarc’s jaw clenched.
Wrong answer. I sat back, waiting for satisfaction to fill me at the prospect of watching Ruarc chew her head off, but instead, the always-present ice in my gut grew sharp edges, poking and prodding until I had to look down, disturbed when no gaping wound greeted my narrowed eyes.
Claws tearing through tender flesh would have been preferable to any emotional reaction. I was not weak. I would not be weak. Not like my parents, whose inability to shut off their emotions had led them down the path of destruction.
“Not what I asked,” Ruarc growled, glaring at the road. “What do you want?”
“Oh, um . . .” The girl fiddled with the string keeping the ridiculously large sweatpants in place. “L-Lucien? What . . . um . . . what would you prefer?”
I was stunned. The wench avoided me whenever possible, why on earth would she drag me into this? Unless she was trying to create tension between Ruarc and I to further her own agenda? “Either way,” I replied coolly.