by L Ann
She needed to see him, speak to him, find out what had really happened. She needed to touch him. With a curse, she threw herself out of the bed, and winced. Overworked muscles in her legs complained as Cassie walked across to the bathroom. She glanced at her reflection in the mirrored wardrobe door as she passed, froze and backtracked. Her fingers traced over the faint red mark on her thigh.
Hadn’t that been a deep cut when she went to bed?
And the bruising from her accident had completely gone.
Surely, it should have taken longer for those to fade?
In fact, the only visible marks were those Shaun had left on her body – nips and bites over her breasts and throat. She frowned at her reflection, then blinked and leaned closer, peering at her face.
Were her eyes different? They seemed darker. More purple than blue? How was that even possible?
Absently, she noted that someone had started shouting downstairs while she examined her eyes.
Maybe it was a side-effect of whatever drug it had been?
Turning away from the mirror, she carried on into the bathroom to take a shower, before dressing to go downstairs and find out the truth about the night before.
The house was quiet as Cassie walked along the hallway which led to the kitchen and she wondered if everyone had gone out for the day. But when she opened the door, she found both Isabella and Roxie seated at the kitchen table. They looked up when she entered, and Isabella smiled in welcome.
“Cassie! I didn’t think you’d be awake yet. Would you like coffee?” She rose to her feet and moved across to the coffee machine before Cassie could reply.
“Where is everyone?” Cassie asked, sitting at the table.
Isabella placed a mug in front of her and slid the jug of cream and bowl of sugar closer. “Just in case you don’t like it black,” she explained.
“Black is fine,” Cassie replied, and curved her fingers around the mug. “I heard shouting. Have they found Gemma? Is there any news at all?”
“No … that’s what the shouting was about.” Roxie jumped into the conversation. “DJ didn’t want to stop the search. Cormac insisted they needed to rest and eat before they head back out.”
“Who won?”
“Cormac is the Alpha,” Roxie replied, and there was a clear note of awe to the younger girl’s voice. “He always wins.”
Isabella snorted derisively at Roxie’s comment, but otherwise stayed silent.
“The … Alpha?” Cassie repeated softly, feeling the speed of her heartbeat increase.
“I’m sorry,” Roxie glanced at Isabella. “I thought she knew?”
“She does,” Isabella replied, calmly sipping her coffee. “She just isn’t ready to face it yet.”
“She is sitting right here, listening to you,” Cassie snapped, and immediately felt silly when Isabella arched one elegantly shaped eyebrow.
“She should be talking to the wolf wearing the carpet out in the TV room,” Isabella told her.
“Wolf …” Cassie’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“Did you convince yourself it was just a dream? A drug-induced nightmare?” Isabella placed her cup down onto the table. “Cassie, I wish there was time to gently lead you into this, but there isn’t. We have someone trying to attack the pack. You and your sister have been caught up in it, through no fault of your own. In fact, this might even be Shaun’s doing – something his Alpha has made perfectly clear to him.
“That’s not to say this Hunter wouldn’t have come for us anyway, but it’s been made so much easier because of your new relationship with Shaun. You and your sister are easy targets. The pack is only as strong as its weakest members, and right now, you are the weakest member.”
“You think I just need to accept what I saw last night and carry on like it’s nothing?” Cassie slammed down her mug on the table. “Like I didn’t see a man turn into an animal!”
Isabella’s shoulders lifted in a small shrug. “What point is there in denying the truth? Does it make what you’ve shared with Shaun any less real?”
“It makes everything we shared a lie!”
“Does it? Did he lie to you about anything? Or did he, like anyone feeling their way in a new relationship, pick things to share that would not send you fleeing before you got to know him? How much have you shared, Cassie? What secrets do you still keep from him?” She reached for the jug, poured more cream into her cup, then continued. “Shaun isn’t just a wolf, or the brother of an Alpha, Cassie. He’s also a man. One who’s been through so much the past two years, that it’s actually nothing short of a miracle he’s not the monster you’re trying to turn him into.
“Could he risk telling you everything about himself before he could be sure you wouldn’t share his secrets with the world? Can you even imagine what would happen if people found out the truth of what he is, of what we are?”
Cassie said nothing, glaring angrily at Isabella.
“Let’s explore that option. Let’s say Shaun told you everything about himself, about us, about the pack from the get-go and you weren’t the person he thinks you are. You get evidence, photos maybe, and go to the media. Those outlets which focus on the strange and paranormal would snap up your story. They would start digging, and they would run stories about communities of Shifters.” She paused to take a sip from her cup. “And then the government scientists would visit. Do you think they would just befriend Shaun? Befriend us? No, of course not. They’d round us up, take us captive, and they’d examine us, test us and a few of us would end up on their tables cut open and experimented on.” Isabella’s voice was emotionless, bland, as she described a possible course of events. “Shaun would fight to protect us, because that’s what he does. It’s who he is. Protecting his pack is hard-wired into his DNA. And he would die protecting us. Protecting you, because by then, you would be associated with us, a part of us, pack.”
“Enough! Stop!” Cassie launched herself to her feet, the chair falling over behind her with the force of her movement. “I would never do that to him!”
Isabella raised her eyes to look at Cassie. “No, you wouldn’t. But Shaun did not know that, did he? Ask yourself this – was everything you had with Shaun a lie or was it self-preservation? He’s been betrayed before, when –”
“That’s not your story to tell.” Deacon’s voice sounded grimly from the doorway, and all three women twisted to look at him.
He looked tired, his features pale and drawn. His eyes were burnished gold as they swept over the three of them gathered around the table. His eyes paused on Cassie, who stood clutching the table top. “Shaun has always been the most human of us. And, yeah, it has fucked him over more than once. But he bounces back, a little harder, a little warier, but he always bounces back, eventually.” A tired grin tipped up one side of his mouth. “Helps that he’s the pretty one, too. Gets him out of a number of tight spots.
“Me, I’m more wolf than man,” he continued. “If I can’t fuck it or eat it, it isn’t much use to me.” His features hardened as he swept his eyes over Cassie’s tense figure. “You were broken. He certainly couldn’t fuck you, not in the state you were in. And eating you might have been appealing, but it’s frowned upon these days. So that was out, too.”
“You’re not helping, Deacon,” Isabella murmured.
“Not really trying to. Just putting things into perspective.” He prowled across the kitchen’s tiled floor, paused to pick up Cassie’s chair, and continued on his path to the coffee maker. “You were broken, and Shaun laid everything on the line for you. He was desperate, and you were in pain … so much pain, he couldn’t stand by and watch you suffer. Binding you to him was a fucking stupid-ass move. Have you any idea of the number of women who throw themselves at him? He could take a different female to his bed every night and still not repeat himself after a year.” He turned and raised his mug in a mock salute and snickered at her white-faced expression. “I can smell your jealousy from here.”
“Why aren’t you
sleeping?” Roxie asked him.
Deacon’s golden gaze swung to the younger woman, and Cassie was sure his features softened slightly.
“Because I can’t sleep, Foxy Roxie, not until we find them.” He returned his attention to Cassie, and his voice hardened. “You need to quit pussyfooting around. Shaun has fucking bent over backwards to give you time and space. He’s also made it perfectly clear that he wants to be with you. So, let me make something very clear to you, Cassie Duncan. If you’re not pack, you’re prey – which makes you a target and, like Isabella said, that makes our pack weak.
“The question they should be asking you instead of fucking avoiding for fear of upsetting you further is whether you are going to be strong. Are you going to stay and fight for your man, or be weak and run away? Are you going to convince yourself this was all a drug-induced nightmare and go back to a life that was clearly fucking lacking in anything you wanted or needed?”
“Gemma was right,” Cassie retorted, her voice flat. “Your really are an asshole.”
Deacon shrugged. “Never claimed otherwise, darlin’.” When she pushed herself away from the table, he hid a smile behind his mug. “You’ll find him in the games room.”
The games room was dark and silent when she entered it and Cassie hesitated, wondering if Shaun had already left and gone elsewhere in the house. She stood, hovering at the doorway, listening and heard the couch creak, then a sigh and knew he was still there. On silent feet, she moved across the room to where the couch was placed in front of the area they’d set up with gaming consoles and skirted around to the front of it.
By the time she manoeuvred her way there, her eyes had adjusted to the darkness and she could make out Shaun’s form lying stretched out along the couch. He lay with one arm folded across his stomach, the other thrown across his face, hiding his eyes. He was bare-chested and wearing a pair of sweatpants which hung low on his hips. The tattoos covering half his torso and both arms caught her attention, and she crept closer, the urge to trace over the multi-hued markings covering the dips and plans of his abs hard to resist.
The remnants of her dream came back to her, and the need to touch him strengthened until she gave in and let her fingers inch out to stroke over his shoulder.
“You wanted to do that the first time we met.” His voice, gravelly and low in the darkness, startled her and she snatched her hand away.
Shaun shifted, stretching both arms up over his head, the muscles of his chest rippling as he moved, and Cassie felt the sudden heat of desire pool between her thighs at the display.
“I … I thought you were sleeping,” she forced out between dry lips.
“I was. Your scent woke me.” His head turned in her direction, but his eyes remained closed. Shaun’s chuckle was short and tired. “Don’t worry, you smell wonderful. I’d say good enough to eat, but under the circumstances …” Her sharp indrawn breath caused him to nod. “Yeah, that.”
“You’re tired. I should leave you to rest.” Cassie managed to take one step away before Shaun’s hand shot out and caught her wrist. A sharp tug and she was sprawled above him. He anchored her there by wrapping an arm around her waist.
“Your scent suggests you’d rather stay.” Cassie started to pull away and felt Shaun’s chest move in a silent sigh beneath her. The arm around her waist loosened, then dropped away, releasing her. “Or not. If you’d prefer to go, then you should do that.” The resignation was clear in his voice.
Cassie froze, her eyes flying up to his face. Deacon’s words whispered through her mind, and she realised he was right. She had to make a choice – was she weak or strong? What did she want?
His eyes were closed, and Cassie used the opportunity to examine him. He’d turned his head slightly, to face the cushioned backrest of the couch. The arm he’d caught her with was hanging loosely off the edge of the couch while the other was tucked under his head. She could feel the tension coiled in his body where she lay against him, yet he made no move to restrict her, to force her to stay if she didn’t want to. Slowly, she pressed a hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeat thudding beneath her palm.
“Are you really a … werewolf?” she choked out.
There was a beat of silence, and then he replied carefully. “Shifter. We prefer the term Shifter.”
“But … you turn into a wolf. By definition, doesn’t that make you a werewolf?”
“Well … yeah?” She watched as his lips quirked up into a half-smile and resisted the sudden need to lean down and kiss him. “But Shifter sounds less … bitey.” His hand settled gently on the small of her back, his touch light. “What are you doing, Cassie?” he whispered.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I can feel your instinct to run, to get as far away from me as you can … but baby, I’m drowning in the scent of your need.” His hand drifted lower, stroked over her bottom, drew her closer until she could feel how she was affecting him.
“You should sleep. Were you out all night?” Cassie replied, but didn’t move away. If anything, she pressed closer.
“I will sleep, but I need to make things right.” He groaned, as she moved again and let out a soft gasp when the erection tenting his sweatpants slid between her thighs. “What you do to me.” His hand on her bottom firmed, held her still. “Stop moving. We need to talk,” he ground out.
“But –”
“I know, I feel it too. Talking first. Do you think you’re ready for that? We could start with something easy. How about I tell you about my markings?”
“Markings?” Her fingers found the tattoos covering one shoulder and slid along them, feeling him shudder beneath her touch. “You mean your tattoos?”
“Not helping, Cass,” he breathed. “They’re not all tattoos.” As he spoke, he twisted onto his side, hooking his arm tighter around her waist to hold her steady, and settled them face to face on the couch. With his other hand he caught the fingers stroking his skin and pulled them away. “I need to concentrate. I can’t when you’re touching me like that.” he said in response to her frown. “So … markings. We’re not born with them, but they start developing once puberty hits. They announce our pack links.” He hesitated, then stroked a finger down her arm. “When we mate, our female takes on some of the markings of her male. If she’s a born Shifter herself, her existing marks will blend with her mate’s into a new unique pattern. If she’s not, she takes on her mate’s pack markings.”
“Mate? Is that like getting married?”
“Only in the sense of two people committing to each other. Human marriage is a fickle thing. Too easily broken. Mating is a lifelong commitment. There’s no easy way out of it.” He fell silent for a second, seeming to consider his words, then continued. “It can be broken. There’s a … I suppose it could be called a cooling-off period. A few weeks to make sure both parties know what they’re committing to and don’t change their mind.”
“How does it work?”
“Mating? Pretty much how you’d expect. Usually through sex although there are other ways. But our wolf-half has to be involved. If our wolf doesn’t want to claim the person we’re with, it’s just sex … sometimes really good sex.”
“How can you tell?”
He barked a laugh. “Oh, it’s pretty obvious when our wolves join the party.” His eyes opened, and Cassie gasped at the brilliant yellow of his gaze.
“Your eyes! Your eyes are glowing!” Her heartbeat sped up, sudden fear spiking.
“Fuck … Cassie. I’m not going to hurt you.” He kept his gaze centred on her. “Look at me.” He held still, forced himself to keep his body relaxed and waited, hoping she wouldn’t bolt.
Cassie sucked in a deep breath, willed her heart-rate to slow, for her muscles to unlock. Her eyes were glued to his, taking in the brilliant yellow irises, the slitted black pupils - more catlike instead of dog, she thought.
“I thought I saw your eyes glowing last night when we …” she said into the silence.
; “They were.”
“Did we …?” There was a lump in her throat when she asked, unsure whether she wanted to hear the answer or not.
“Mate? Not last night, no.” He blinked slowly, and the yellow faded back to green. “The first time, though? Whole different story.”
“The first time?” Her cheeks burned. “When you …”
“No, not when I had you as an evening snack,” he cut in with wry amusement. “Mating is definitely a cooperative sport. If you need to know the exact second,” he smiled, and his eyes flared yellow again briefly. “It was when I said you were mine, and you agreed.”
“You said there was a cooling-off period?” Her heart was hammering against her chest when he physically tensed at her question – his spine stiffening and eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on her.
“I did. And under normal circumstances, I would say to you that you need time to think about what I’m telling you, so you could meet the pack and decide if it’s the right life for you. It was one of the reasons I let you go home,” he sighed. “And you going home is the reason why it no longer applies to us.”
“Doesn’t apply?” Cassie’s brows pulled together in a frown. “I don’t understand.”
“The accident, the crash.” He reached out and took her hand in his, seeming to need the connection. “Cass, you nearly died. If we hadn’t done what we did. If I hadn’t made that claim, you’d have died in the car before anyone found you. As it was, the claim was weak. It hadn’t had a chance to strengthen, it was too new, too fresh and you were dying in the hospital. When we got there, they were talking about saying goodbye.” He swallowed. “I got Chase to drop everything and come down here. He told me to wait a few days, give the claim a chance to work … but it wasn’t working, baby. You were bleeding out and they couldn’t find the cause. I told Chase and Mac I was going to take the final step. We argued, and I locked them both out of your room long enough to wake you up.” She could see the anguish in his eyes as he told her what he’d done.