by Erica Woods
“Save it.” With exquisite gentleness, Ruarc lowered me into the nearest chair.
Wincing, I kept my arms crossed over my bare breasts. My shirt, the shirt Tim had ripped down the middle, hung in tatters off my shoulders.
“I’ll kill him all over again,” Ruarc muttered with a murderous scowl, his glare searching the kitchen.
A vein in Lucien’s temple pulsed.
I looked away. The cold shock was receding, leaving me closer to uncontrollable sobs and hot, devastating shame. I couldn’t bear to look at Lucien, didn’t want to see the censure in eyes that always looked at me with cruel disdain. I didn’t want to see his triumph when his worst suspicions were confirmed about me. That I was dirty. Not worthy of the help they’d given me.
Tainted.
Why didn’t my monster save me?
As Ruarc moved to furiously rifle through the cupboards and drawers, making enough noise that my ears hurt, Lucien pulled his white dress-shirt over his head.
“Here,” he said, holding out the crisp-looking material.
My eyes were drawn to that smooth, marble-like skin against my will. His body looked both muscular and lean, with a powerful chest only a little less wide than Ash’s, and strong, capable arms. His stomach was a thing of art, all carved ridges and toned muscles. His hips were narrow, a cut ‘V’ disappearing into his slacks, and like his face, his body was perfectly symmetrical, every inch accounted for, every piece of flesh molded to perfection.
My mouth went dry.
His body was every woman’s dream; so flawless even Michelangelo would weep at its beauty.
How would the rest of his body look? Would his legs be as toned as the rest of him? And what about—
I slammed my eyes shut, guilt an endless barrage against my soul. How could I be checking out another man just a few hours after gaining a boyfriend?
And half an hour after being assaulted by a man trying to rape you?
Opening my eyes and keeping them locked on the floor, I reached out a trembling hand to take the offered shirt, but a savage snarl froze me in place. Ruarc’s lethal glare wavered between my outstretched arm and Lucien’s shirt.
I snatched my hand back, cheeks burning.
Ruarc leapt across the room and swiped the shirt away from Lucien. Bringing it to his face he inhaled.
Another snarl, disgust lacing his expression.
“I-it’s okay,” I whispered to my feet. “I’ll . . . I’ll get something from my room instead.”
In my hurry to escape and get some clothes, I rose too fast. As a black wave of dizziness swamped me, Ruarc’s hand shot out and grabbed my shoulder. With a muffled curse, he guided me back down, kneeling in front of me so he could look at my face.
“Sorry.” His voice was all gruff apology. “You . . .” He rubbed a hand over his jaw, jerked it away and stared at it as though it had betrayed him somehow. “Fucking hell—Turn!” he snarled at Lucien so abruptly I jerked in my seat.
Lucien turned with a sound that was almost a growl, giving me another reason to startle. Had I ever heard the controlled, rigid man make a sound like that?
Glaring at Lucien’s back, Ruarc put his body between us for good measure and lifted one of my hands away from my body. Careful not to hurt me, he threaded the sleeve over my arm and wrapped Lucien’s shirt around my back.
“Switch,” he said in a low voice, jerking his chin at the arm covering my breasts.
My face heated a million degrees, but I did as he said and watched with wonder as he tenderly covered me up without peeking—making sure I was covered the whole time—buttoning each, tiny button with hands that looked way too big for such a delicate task.
“Thank you,” I whispered when he was done.
“Should have been here,” he rasped, cupping the back of my head and moving so our foreheads were touching. “Bastard hurt you . . .”
My heart clenched at the anguish and guilt in his eyes. “It wasn’t your fault.”
Ruarc shuddered and went on as if he hadn’t heart me. “Thinking about what he could’ve done . . .” He squeezed his eyes shut.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I repeated in a softer voice. “I shouldn’t have . . . shouldn’t have gone out by myself—”
He jerked back. “You did what?”
I gaped at him, mind drawing a blank from his abrupt change from tender and caring to furious and demanding. Had he not known? “I—”
Before I could defend myself, Ruarc’s accusing glare snapped to Lucien. “You didn’t stop her?”
“I did not hear her,” Lucien said. “She was sneaking around the house. I wasn’t aware she was missing until I walked past her empty room.”
“I didn’t sneak!” I twisted on the hard chair. “I was just hungry and thought—”
“Do that again and you’re going over my knee,” Ruarc snapped, the angry veins in his neck straining against his skin.
A startled breath whistled past my teeth. “W-what?”
“Do not threaten her!”
My head whipped around, wondering why Lucien defended me and why he suddenly looked like he’d been chewing rocks.
“She’s mine!” Ruarc snarled.
“Then treat her like it!”
Silence reigned while I counted each beat of my racing heart. I’d gotten all the way to twenty—not daring to speak while the guys looked like they were plotting murder—then Lucien shook his head and looked away, expression going back to being cold and distant.
Ruarc rose to his full height, towering over me. “Don’t you ever, ever, go anywhere alone again.” It was one of the longest sentences I’d ever heard him make, and he said it with such fury, such conviction, I was convinced the consequences would be dire if I didn’t follow his command.
What possessed me to say what I did next, I had no idea. “Y-you . . . you can’t t-tell me what to d-do.”
His eyes widened for a second, then narrowed. He doubled over and lowered his face until our noses touched. “Watch me.”
Something in me snapped. I didn’t know what, or why, but his harsh words buried their way into my heart and started tearing apart the tender flesh.
Deep down I knew he was just looking out for me, but I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he thought I was to blame for what had happened. Maybe he thought I had brought it on myself, somehow. And maybe his order to not go anywhere alone was because he didn’t trust me anymore.
Throat constricting, eyes growing hot and achy, I swallowed back tears and lowered my gaze. I opened my mouth to say—I didn’t know what—but all that came out was a stilted, ugly sob.
“Fuck!” Ruarc’s voice carried a mixture of horror and anger, and then he was back on his knees, trying in vain to catch my gaze while stroking his hands down my arms, my back, my hair.
A strangled noise from Lucien did what Ruarc couldn’t. I glanced his way, but he wasn’t looking back at me. He was staring at the opposite wall, brows drawn low over eyes that gave nothing away.
Ruarc cupped my cheek. “A chuisle, I—”
The door burst open, splinters flying to reveal a heaving bare chest, enraged amber eyes, and a twisted mouth forced slightly open by elongating fangs.
As soon as Jason took in my discarded shirt on the floor—I would burn the ripped material as soon as I had a moment alone—Lucien’s non-expression, and the hole in my pants with the boxers underneath, horror filled his face.
I burst into tears. Loud, wailing tears. Broken sobs strangled my voice, erupting with such force that they squeezed my chest and halted my breaths.
It felt like dying.
Broken, I bent at the waist, yanking my hands to my face to hide from the world. Calloused palms brushed over the back of my hands, and I shied away. The touch grew firmer, desperate even, but I couldn’t remove my hands, couldn’t let them see me like this, all shattered into a thousand ugly pieces that made no sense.
Why can’t I stop crying?
Why can’t I be normal?
/> Why am I so pathetically weak?
A furious snarl startled the tears right out of me, and I looked up in time to see Lucien pummel his fist into Ruarc’s face. Before I could intervene, Jason threw himself into the mix, howling with pain as a fist collided with his eye.
For a frozen moment all I could do was watch, then an elbow split Ruarc’s lip and something inside me twisted violently.
“Stop!” I shrieked. When no one listened I threw myself in the melee, catching a flash of silver eyes—wide with what looked like panic—and a dying snarl before I curled my body around Ruarc to shield his vulnerable face against more punishing blows.
A hammer smashed into my shoulder. Or maybe it was a fist. Whatever it was, it hurt. It really, really hurt, and I couldn’t stop the pained whimper clawing up my throat any more than I could stop my body from being wrenched to the side by the force of impact.
Everything stopped. All movement, all sound, all breathing. Except mine. Mine still came in harsh little gasps as I clutched my arm to my chest, but everyone else was completely still.
For about three seconds.
Then Ruarc roared and threw the others off like they were weightless. His silver eyes sparked like lightning, and when he turned his glare my way I felt it like a snap of electricity dancing over my skin.
Gawking up at him from the floor where I’d landed, I was torn between awe at his strength and a healthy dose of respect for his temper. With his mouth set in a grim line, jaw hard and unforgiving, I expected his hands to be rough, but when he helped me to my feet it was with all the care one would show a newborn baby.
Jason and Lucien also got up, but instead of keeping wary eyes on Ruarc—the man who’d just thrown them around like ragdolls—they both stared at me with varying degrees of disbelief.
I looked away.
With gentle hands—a complete contrast to the hard glare he was pinning me with—Ruarc felt along my shoulder. I winced when he touched a tender spot, but nothing felt broken.
“Lucky,” he said in a flat voice.
Jason laughed, but the sound felt off. “Lucky? She was damned near killed!”
Lucien didn’t say anything. Just stood there. Staring.
Ruarc shook his head, eyes still flashing with anger as he looked at me. “Our fault.”
Jason sputtered. “How is it our fault?”
“She doesn’t know.”
Sneaking a careful peek at Ruarc, my brain reluctantly tried to put the pieces together.
Not human. They’re not human.
I shoved the thought away.
Can’t deal with one more thing tonight, I just can’t.
“That’s not an excuse!” Jason snapped. “She should know not to throw herself between males fighting like that.”
I scowled at Jason. His mouth snapped shut and he turned his hard glare on me.
Lucien made a weird sound, halfway between a laugh and a choked growl. “Unbelievable.”
I felt myself shrinking under the force of their combined anger. They were all so mad.
All I’d done was try to protect Ruarc. It hadn’t even been a conscious decision, I’d just reacted to seeing him hurt.
Stupid.
Unwilling to cause any more trouble than I already had, I stared at the floor and tried not to fidget. My stomach was twisted into a mass of knots. Turbulent emotions tumbled through me, one after another until I thought I’d be sick. If my mind lingered on Tim, what he had tried to do or what happened to him, the shaking began again so I tried to blank my mind and think of the sky.
The open, star-kissed sky that could never be contained or imprisoned. Would always be free.
After a few seconds of tense silence, Ruarc growled low in his throat. “Clusterfuck.” Then he scooped me up in his arms and stormed out of the room.
Despite my unease at his anger, I knew—deep down—he’d never hurt me, so I kept quiet while he carried me up the stairs, threw open the door to my room with more force than necessary, and slammed it shut behind us with his elbow. I didn’t speak when he gently placed me on the bed and yanked the cover over my lightly trembling form. I didn’t say a word when he growled, first at the door, then at the window, and then, it seemed, at his feet. And I kept my mouth shut and watched him pace around the room in tight circles that should have made him dizzy.
It made me dizzy.
After a few minutes he joined me on the bed, lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. The dangerous fury I’d sensed prowling beneath his skin seemed to have simmered down.
When he spoke, it was without looking at me, without any expression on his face whatsoever, and with a gruffness that made my heart clench. “Wanna talk about it?”
“N-no.”
“Tomorrow then,” he said and I recognized it for the resolute command it was. Ruarc wanted to hear the story from me, probably wanted to know what had happened before Lucien arrived at the scene.
I thought about it, and though I was loath to relive this evening, it might help. After all, when I’d revealed pieces of my past before, it had felt like a wound being drained—painful but ultimately healing.
Tomorrow.
I had questions I needed to ask too.
“Okay.”
“Can I . . .” he cleared his throat, glaring at the ceiling and pressing his lips tightly together. “Can I stay?”
“Yes,” I rushed out without an ounce of hesitation. I didn’t want to be alone. “Only to sleep?” Said as a question, I hoped he would understand it wasn’t really one at all.
He grunted an agreement.
Neither of us spoke for a moment. Then Ruarc rolled over and tucked me into his side. One arm went below my head, the other over my waist. He buried his face in my neck and breathed me in.
I melted into him, my body finally releasing some of its tension.
The arms around me tightened and all I could feel was him. His warmth, his protection, his embrace.
“I got you,” he whispered. “I got you.”
37
RUARC
Damn that fuckhead Blake, damn him to hell!
I wanted to snarl so badly I all but bit my lip in two trying to silence the roar building in my skull. Only thing keeping me quiet was not wanting to wake my female.
Blake, though . . . The bastard was right. Hope had seen too much. She’d seen claws and fangs and glowing eyes, seen all but our true selves, and though she hadn’t said anything yet, I could read the questions in her expressive face when she looked at us.
She knew. Not everything, but enough to be considered a threat by the Council.
God-fucking-dammit!
Blake wouldn’t tell them, but if Hope said one wrong thing to one wrong person . . .
And it wasn’t like we could put her out and wish her luck—the thought alone was enough to make me want to tear someone to pieces—not while she was being hunted.
But by who?
Fuck, can’t think about that. Not now.
Any lycan who came near our territory would be able to scent her. All it would take was one too-curious stray, one enemy spy, and all hell would break loose. They’d question why a human lived among us, they’d try to find out what she knew, and if they succeeded . . .
There was one way around our laws, one way a human would be allowed to live knowing the truth. It would take time, but if it worked? Fuck, if it worked, if she wanted it . . .
My heart thundered in my chest.
I’d never wanted anything as much as I wanted this. Her. She—
She was waking up. My female was waking up.
Propped up on my elbow, I drank in the sight of her with hungry eyes. She chased the darkness away, quieted the volatile emotions raging inside.
I ran my eyes over every inch of exposed skin, not really caring if she woke and saw me staring. So what if I was acting like a besotted fool?
I couldn’t look away.
She arched her back in a stretch, one of those I’m-just-w
aking-up stretches. Long, black lashes fluttered against delicate skin. A soft sigh escaped inviting lips.
Achingly beautiful. And all mine.
Soon as her guileless eyes opened, her lips curved in a sweet smile of welcome and a surge of possessive lightning flared in my gut. Wanted to wrap her up and keep her away from everyone. Wanted to be the only one who ever saw that bed-rumpled hair, that gorgeous smile.
Then she blinked and her expression clouded.
Remembering last night.
I suppressed the violent growl building in my chest. Every time I thought about what had happened my heart twisted and the air in my lungs turned to spurs. It burned. Each breath burned. I wanted to resurrect the asshole who’d hurt my sweet, innocent female so I could tear him limb from limb.
One death just wasn’t good enough.
Hope moved. Just an inch to the side, and one of her dainty hands came up to curl against her cheek.
Just like that my rage vanished.
“Morning.” My voice was hoarse with need. The need to tie this exquisite creature to me for good. The need to savagely destroy anyone who threatened her physical or mental wellbeing. The need for her.
“Good morning.” Her voice was soft. Vulnerable. Peeking up at me with huge eyes, her gaze drifted to my lips before she hurriedly looked away.
Everything I was demanded I kiss her. Devour her. Claim her until she would never even think about leaving my side for more than a few seconds at a time.
Possessive asshole that I was, I didn’t want to share her time with anyone.
When she swallowed, the pulse in her neck beating faster, I could no longer hold back.
“Mine,” I growled and grabbed her, mindful of her smaller, fragile bones. The squeak she let out as I dragged her across my chest egged me on. When she was lying on top of me, her tiny nose scrunching in confusion, I pulled her close and brushed my lips across hers.
Have to be careful, I reminded myself. Don’t want to scare her.