Wild Hearts

by Wild Hearts (lit)

  She didn’t want to think about the time when she’d have to leave.

  Hell, she even made peace with the spiders, especially gazing upon their shimmering webs tinged with melting morning frost. They tucked away in practically each window corner, lying in wait for a meal.

  Most of all, she didn’t want to leave the two men who followed close behind her. They said little as she drank in the small town, but she never once felt their eyes leave her back. They observed her as close as humanly possible. The heat of their gazes kept her body on moderate alert, suspended in a limbo of desires and curiosities. Having been unsuccessful in the dating world back home, this imminent attention stoked craving in her libido she’d never considered before.

  Shyla cupped the side of her face and peered into another window blankly. Coal stepped up to her left, the heat of his body and the weight of his strength conforming around her. He embraced her without laying a single finger on her. Instinctively, she licked her lips. His kiss lingered from almost an hour ago, the masculine flavor of his mouth bringing a bout of warmth to her core. Jacy’s kiss remained imprinted in her memory as well, and when his fingers curled in her hair, she nearly dropped out of emotional overload.

  Jacy guided her into his solid chest. She looked up at Coal. His lips tightened as his hidden eyes caressed her. Shyla could detect the subtle tension flowing between the men, but their camaraderie always outweighed whatever underlying issues they might have.

  In the course of an hour, that much she understood.

  Everything else, well, there was way too much going on for her to decipher, starting with her own body.

  “You must like the town thus far. We haven’t made it to breakfast yet,” Jacy said against her ear.

  His breath stirred those pleasurable chills that spiraled downward until they pooled in her womb. Couldn’t she make it more than ten minutes around these guys without wanting to strip naked and deliver herself into their care?

  She barely knew them, and yet, she felt as if she’d known them all her life.

  Shyla rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms, trying to clear her mind of the muddled thoughts. Jacy was right. She needed to eat.

  “This place welcomes me. Sounds funny, huh?” Shyla murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Jacy caught the tip of her finger between his teeth, his tongue flicking the pad. Forcing aside the alluring idea of forgetting the day and tucking herself in Gramps’s cabin with these two, she cleared her throat and stepped away from Jacy. “I think we should do breakfast before lunchtime rolls around.” She lifted her hand for Coal. A dark grin stretched over his mouth, and he slipped his fingers between hers. Not exactly what she went for, but hell it worked. “What’re you grinning about?”

  “I warned you last night to censor your thoughts. You might just end up back at the cabin far earlier than expected,” Coal teased. Shyla’s heels anchored to the sidewalk after her first step ahead. Jacy walked into her, and Coal chuckled. “You still don’t believe me, huh?”

  “You’re telling me you can read my thoughts. How’s that possible?” Shyla inquired, narrowing her eyes on Coal.

  “Like this, sweetheart.”

  She gasped at the voice invading her mind. Coal’s voice, nonetheless, and he didn’t even move his lips!

  Coal led her next to him, gracing her forehead with a light kiss.

  “Let’s get you out of the cold. You’re shivering.”

  Shyla’s molten hot blood couldn’t register the wintry mountain air that managed to chill her until Coal mentioned it. She constricted the wool shawl around her shoulders and leaned into the inviting heat emanating from Coal’s body. Jacy didn’t miss a step in coming up on her other side and completing an unseen circuit between the three of them. Summertime heat poured through her, back and forth from man to man.

  “I’ll say it out loud since you’ll hear it anyhow, but I would’ve never believed to be standing here, between two of…you, and not wondering about my sanity,” Shyla said. Both men looked down at her, one with a smile and one with an arched brow, eyeing her like succulent candy.

  Silence ensued, wreaking havoc with her waking body as they led her around the corner of an old brick building. A passing couple gave them wide berth as they passed. Jacy snickered, tossing a glance over his shoulder. Shyla followed his gaze and caught the uncertain look the couple cast in their direction.

  “You two have a rep I should know about?” Shyla asked. Coal’s fingers tightened around hers as he paused outside a diner.

  “There are two different kinds of people in Hood River, darling. Those who reside and those who own. We’re part of the latter,” Jacy said.

  “And I suppose there’s a subgroup of the latter that includes cockiness.”

  Coal laughed, pushing open the glass door, the little brass bell chiming their arrival. The smell of grease, bacon, and breads came at her on a wave of warm air, smacking her in the face. Her stomach rumbled and her mouth salivated with the prospect of eating. When was the last time she ate? Before she left the airport back home? Had it really been over a day?

  “Hey, Len,” Coal called.

  Shyla did a quick scan of the small eatery, ending on a tall, white-haired man standing behind the counter on the opposite side of the building. The man smiled and waved, finishing with a paying customer. He wiped his hands on a soiled apron and rounded the counter, approaching them with long, sure strides.

  Shyla couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Several pairs of eyes came to rest on her, observing, peeling away layers of curiosity with their gazes. A feral air hovered. The patrons in this place were far different than patrons in the city. The shadow of her spirit whispered it to her. She stood amid a crowd of eerily silent, probing guests. Glancing around, she crashed with gaze after gaze, reading astonishment and awe from each person. She stole the spotlight, and she held every person’s attention, some with food halfway to their mouths, some stirring drinks mindlessly.

  All who sized her up did so in a primal manner.

  She clamped shut the whispering of her spirit and tried to brush off the unusual circumstances of the diner. She hadn’t realized she pressed herself into the protective wall of Coal’s body until his fingers left hers and his arm draped over her shoulders. Jacy sidled closer, his own sturdy form blocking a good chunk of her from prying eyes. She was thankful to both men at that moment.

  Len stepped up to them, his blue eyes lowering to her. She managed a small smile, pushing aside her discomfort in the presence of a group of fawning strangers.

  “Ah, you’re Jacob’s long-lost kin. I can clearly see him in you. Shyla, right?” Len asked, holding out a hand. She accepted the welcoming handshake and then rested her head on Coal’s chest. A glint passed through the older man’s eyes. His nostrils flared, and his smile faltered. “A white?”

  “We haven’t gotten that far with her yet,” Jacy said, though his voice deepened, and his simple remark came out on a wave of warning. He lifted his sunglasses from his face, folded them, and slid them into his jacket pocket.

  Shyla couldn’t withhold a small gasp. Jacy smirked. The greenest eyes she’d ever seen glittered at her, indulging in the playful nature she had come to know in Jacy. His eyes resembled what glowing green grass with flecks of gold from sunbeams might look like. They were gorgeous eyes that prowled over her in one slow, tantalizing journey that came to linger on her breasts. She blushed beneath his drinking gaze, her breasts filling and becoming heavy beneath the wool shawl. Moisture seeped from her core, and she shifted, trying her damnedest to make the growing itch subside.

  The smile grew on Jacy’s kissable mouth, as if to say, I know you’re wet and wanting me. Sugar, I’ll give you what you want.

  Jacy dipped his head, and his lips brushed her ear. “Nope. I really said it.”

  “You said…that? Oh, how crass!” Shyla snapped, taking a deep breath. The calming scent of spice and clean outdoors filled her spirit, but she still managed to swat a
side the sexually laden euphoria crushing down on her. She wasted enough time pining over intimate fantasies involving these two…gods. She was the missing sweet cream from the cookie, now sandwiched between dark and light halves. Together, they might make a delectable treat.

  She rolled her eyes and groaned. Head outta the gutter, Shyla. You have a week to get your grandfather’s estate in order. One week until you’ll never see these guys again.

  “You okay?” Coal asked.

  Shyla snorted, pressing herself from his chest and forcing a space of a foot between the charged Jacy and herself.

  “Fine. Why don’t we sit and eat, hmm?” She pulled out a chair from the closest table and plopped down, avoiding the curious onlookers. Coal exchanged a tight look with Jacy before they sat on either side of her. Len grabbed some menus and placed them on the table.

  “Coffee, dear? Juice?” he asked. His kind smile returned, lacking any prior uncertainty.

  His comment about a white something still toyed in the back of her mind. She nodded, trying another shot at being cordial. “Coffee, thanks.”

  “Boys?”

  “Good, thanks,” Coal said. Jacy nodded, sliding a menu in front of her. He lounged back, kicking one booted foot onto the seat across from him. Coal leaned forward, his hands folded over the table. Shyla reached for his sunglasses. She pulled them from his face and placed them on the tabletop. Fathomless black eyes gauged her, observing her more like a human than an animal. She couldn’t say as much about Jacy, even if his outright crude remark did make her hot.

  Jacy and Coal where two magnificent creations of God sitting with her. They were good-spirited men, that much she surmised, two opposites that filled gaps in her whole.

  “Why does it look like some of the patrons are sniffing the air?” Shyla asked.

  “Eh, they’re jealous. They’ll get over it,” Jacy assured. “I don’t like ’em lookin’ at you like that.” Jacy motioned to a man at a far table. “Conroy, your jaw’s shattered to pieces on the floor. Put it back together, will ya?”

  “Why do their actions concern you? Why do I concern you?”

  “Welcome to Hood River. The wilderness gets to us,” Jacy said. He tapped his heel on the wooden floor and chuckled. “Not everyone is like us. What did Jacob tell you about your family?”

  “Nothing much,” Shyla lied. Oh, he told her plenty after she confided to him about the adoption papers. He told her more than she was willing to believe, but he always made things sound so real. All of his letters told about spirits and wolves and the merging of two into one.

  In one particular letter, he explained a Blood Moon Legacy and the extermination of the white wolves. White wolves were revered as living spiritual guides and pack leaders. As not to anger the spirits, packs obeyed the white wolf of their territory, laying trust and love in the creature. Over twenty years ago, a horrifying massacre took place. The living white wolves were slain on the night of a full moon. That same night, the white moon turned red with their shed blood.

  The white wolf was believed to be extinct.

  Shyla looked over at Coal. Damn, she must’ve drifted off in thought. Both men trained narrowed eyes on her.

  “Nothing, eh?” Jacy inquired. “Did he tell you about your mother?”

  “My mother died shortly after I was born,” Shyla confided. She knew the Native American stories from Gramps, but he never told her anything about her parents aside from her mother’s unfortunate death and her father’s murder. She twisted the end of her scarf and sighed. “Gramps never mentioned her otherwise. I know nothing about my biological parents.”

  “Did Jacob tell you anything about his mother?” Coal asked.

  Shyla shook her head.

  “What about himself?”

  “You most likely know more about him than I do. You know about the letter-per-year rule.” Shyla propped her head on her hand, leaning over the table. She focused on the dark beauty sitting to her right. His complexion held a touch of bronze she associated with a splash of Native American heritage. Christ, it looked good on him. His choice of black attire, from leather jacket to shirt to boots, made her mouth salivate, as well as other parts of her body moist. “Tell me about him.”

  “Your grandfather was a wonderful man. It’s unfortunate you never had the opportunity to spend time with him, but your life is worth far more than the estrangement between your kin,” Coal said. His deep voice softened. He lifted a hand to her cheek and caressed aside stray strands of hair. “Your mother was murdered the morning of your birth. You were cut from her womb and immediately taken into hiding. Your adoptive parents had been arranged on a moment’s notice. If I recall correctly, your adoptive father was a distant relative of your grandfather. That’s how he’s kept in touch without raising suspicion.”

  Shyla’s heart shuddered. Her mother murdered? With her still inside?

  “Why? Who would kill a pregnant woman?” she asked quietly. Her brow knitted. “How did I survive?”

  “Your grandfather killed the wolf who killed your mother before she had the opportunity to kill you as well,” Jacy said. “See, that’s why we asked if Jacob told you about your kin.”

  “He never wrote about my family. He wrote about legends.”

  “And the white wolf,” Coal said.

  Shyla’s eyes widened. She straightened up in her chair.

  Coal nodded once, moistening his lips. “Ah, yes. He did write about the legacy, but apparently didn’t write the reason you were forced into hiding.” He leaned over the table a bit more. “He never wrote about your wolf’s blood, did he? He never told you the reason your mother was killed was because she came from white wolf’s blood.”

  A chill, one that didn’t evoke pleasure, plinked down her spine. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. She did not just hear that. This man, as down-to-earth sinful as he seemed, did not speak of wolves and the blood in her veins in the same sentence. Oh no.

  She tilted her head and pinned Coal with a narrow gaze.

  “You’re kidding. You’re not gonna try and convince me my mother was a–a wolf. I don’t believe in that stuff,” she said, lowering her voice to a mere whisper. She cast a short glance to a table of attentive men, all eyeing her.

  Coal didn’t laugh, didn’t smile, or show any signs he joked. The chill froze.

  “You really believe that. You believe in folklore. Of you both, I thought you were more grounded than Jacy here. I’m sure he wouldn’t indulge in tales and legends. My grandfather died of old age. My mother died of complications due to childbirth, and I was already out of her womb.”

  “Nope, sugar. The wolf who mutilated your mother was consort to a female alpha named Laela. She drew in her followers and formed an enviable pack of her own. You see, she wanted the men who belonged to the white wolves. She wanted to be on top of the local packs, the ringleader. Because your mother and your aunts were considered the rare exception to the pack leader status—remember, alpha males run the packs, not females—she saw them as a threat and decided to send her loyal fuck friends to kill them. No one thought the children survived. In fact, we’re not even sure your cousins survived. Jacob only just told us about you a month before he died,” Jacy explained. He spoke with a nonchalance and carefree air. Shyla could do nothing more than stare at him in disbelief as he casually checked his nails.

  Len slid her cup of coffee onto the table. The strong aroma did little to reel her back.

  “Can’t you boys be a little less direct? Look at the poor creature. She’s beside herself,” the older man said. His strong hand clamped down on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

  Jacy sat straight in his chair, eyes locked with Len.

  Coal growled deep in his throat.

  Len’s hand lifted from her.

  Shyla exchanged glances between her two bodyguards. When she turned to Len, his hands were raised in surrender and he stepped back.

  “Down, boys. No challenge. I have my mate. I’m not taking you
rs. Just…take it easy on the sweet thing.” He chuckled and shook his head, hands dropping to his sides. The ferocious electrical current that had sparked to life slowly fizzled out. Jacy settled back in his chair. Coal pinched his forehead between his thumb and forefinger.

  Shyla scooted her chair back to better see both men at her table.

  Maybe her lost kin cream analogy wasn’t so far off track.

  “Mate?” she asked.

  “Wow, you say it like it’s a bad thing,” Jacy snorted.

  “Maybe I did.”

  “Maybe you should get used to the fact that you have two men who’ll nuzzle you night and day.”

  “Stop with the crude remarks.”

  “Jacy, shut the fuck up, and keep your cock in check,” Coal snapped. Shyla blinked at him. His dark eyes held the vaguest hint of frost blue slithering through them. His hand dropped from his forehead and he sighed. “Sorry, Shyla.”

  “Wait. So you’re telling me you two are mates? Like, you and him…?”

  “Like, no,” Jacy mimicked. “Like, he and I are not lovers. We’re your lovers.”

  Shyla whipped her hand out and smacked him on the arm. He snarled, a real lip-pulled-back-teeth-bared snarl, the playful glitter in his eyes blinding.

  Coal took her hand. “Don’t provoke him. He’s nothing more than a pup in an adult’s hide. You’re arousal isn’t helping matters. We can both smell you,” Coal said.

  “You…you can smell me?” Oh God, how embarrassing. All this time she thought these men dressed her in affection for the sake of enjoying it. Well, they enjoyed it because of her pheromones and a hope of…what? Fucking her?

  The image of herself being invaded by both men did little to tamp her growing attraction to them. In fact, heat moistened her panties, and her heart performed a strange little dance.

  “Listen to the voice in your spirit. The true you, not the city-girl you. I’ve noticed your adaption to Hood River from last night until now. You’re comfortable here. You feel at peace in the forest, in the wild. It’s your suppressed nature, your true self, trying desperately to lock down and come out. This is your home. This is where you belong. Your grandfather told Jacy and myself that we were chosen as your mates. Whether you want to accept it now or not is up to you, but you’ll never find the comfort and solace you’ve only begun to experience with us anywhere else.”