by Woods, Erica
“Much better.” He leaned back against the couch and watched with amusement as I quickly pulled both feet away from his reach. “You should always be smiling, love.”
My heart melted at his sweet declaration even as I tried to give him my fiercest glare—I did not want him to use tickling as a way of cheering me up. When that failed to impress him, I looked at Ruarc for support.
I don’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t this. Not this look that made my stomach soar and my heart pound. Not the way he stared down at me, all sharp edges blunted by warm affection.
Heat rushed up my neck and I averted my gaze.
On the other side of the couch, Jason still watched my every move; those damned attentive eyes stalking my feet like prey. “No more,” I told him, drawing my feet up until I was curled up like a ball on Ruarc’s lap.
Instead of replying, he winked and sent me an innocent smile that seemed to say, ‘Who, me?’
“I mean it.”
My warning was met with beaming delight. “Oh, you mean it, do you, love?” He brushed a knuckle over the curve of my shoulder, the touch maddening, his lips stretched in a smile that was decidedly wolfish. “Well, then . . .” The caress moved down my arm, fingers finding my palm and pressing in a way that should not have had my insides jumping. “I better take you seriously.”
My mouth went dry.
Jason went to his knees, invading my personal space—unconcerned with the male who held me on his lap—and I fell headfirst into his captivating gaze; fell straight into the unknown depths of his soul.
So full of life, so giving, this Jason I’d slowly come to know.
“When are we departing?” Lucien’s cool voice dragged me back to reality, and heat climbed from my neck to my cheeks.
“The day after tomorrow,” Ash replied. “Hope will need to be prepared.”
Two days? I tried to ignore the sudden tightening of my throat. In two days, I’d be leaving the only place I’d felt safe in over eighteen years. Leaving to attend a gathering filled with strangers . . .
Lycans.
A thick silence choked the room. Then Jason sat up straight, all traces of humor gone. “How well?”
“Crash course on the Council and pack hierarchy. She needs to know what to expect.” Ash turned to me, his piercing gaze flaying me open like he could read all my secrets, my every insecurity. “Hope . . .” A heavy exhale contracted his chest. “You will need to be comfortable around us by the time we arrive at Assembly territory.”
Comfortable? I was more comfortable around these four men than I’d ever been around anyone in my life—not counting my dad. “I am comfortable around you,” I said slowly, ducking my head when Lucien’s attention snapped to me.
Okay, maybe I wasn’t so comfortable around Lucien yet, but I was better than I had been in the beginning, wasn’t I?
“I can see that,” Lucien said in a voice so dry it rasped along my skin.
Jason snorted. “You’re doing fine, love. But Ash isn’t talking about these forms.” He gestured to include the other three men. “He means our other forms. You will need to be comfortable around our wolves.”
“Oh!” Excitement flooded me at Jason’s revelation. The thought of seeing the other part of them made my heart beat faster, my palms tingle with a nervous buzz. I hadn’t thought to ask this of them. Had thought it was too personal, required too much trust. But here they were, willingly offering me a glimpse into the part of themselves they hid from the world. “Okay.” I cringed at the squeaky quality of my voice and the sudden stillness from the man at my back.
A scoffing noise came from Lucien, and when I turned to him, I flinched at the hard set to his jaw, the tight press of his lips. He was not happy about this.
Is he worried I will judge him? Or . . . maybe he doesn’t want to show me his secret. Maybe it makes them vulnerable?
I looked away, pretending my heart didn’t hurt when his upper lip curled. Were we back here already?
“It has to be now, Hope,” Ash said gently. “There is not much time before we have to leave.”
I nodded my understanding. Since my voice had failed me, I opted to remain quiet. I didn’t want to embarrass them with my excitement. Maybe it was considered rude? Maybe my rush of exhilaration made them uneasy? Maybe it seemed like judgment or lack of understanding.
Oh, god. What if I do something bad? What if I’m supposed to touch them a certain way, or not touch them at all? What if I stare when I’m not supposed to?
Tap-tap went my finger, bouncing against my thigh, my hip, until it was captured against a calloused palm.
I decided then and there that I would look as little as possible, just enough to show I understood. And I would keep my hands to myself. Unless invited.
But how would I know if I was invited?
My heart beat faster; a fine sheen of sweat coated the sensitive skin under my nose.
Why do I sweat under my nose? Is that normal?
My excitement had fled, giving way to building nervousness. I didn’t want to ruin this opportunity.
Above me, Ruarc moved his head to the side and growled.
Tension made me stiff, something he surely felt, for when he leaned back to see my face, his jaw was set, eyes tight with tumultuous emotions. “Don’t have to,” he pushed out through clenched teeth.
“She does,” Lucien interjected, gaze arctic as he stared at me. There was something there, something that suggested he was challenging me, somehow. Maybe the inflexible tilt of his head, the proud arch of his neck. Or maybe it was just how he refused to look away.
I dropped my eyes all the way to the floor.
Jason put his hand on my knee. “Do we all need to change?”
“No,” Ash said after a brief hesitation. “I think two should be enough.”
Ruarc grunted. Without so much as a glance my way, he slid me off his lap and went to stand next to Ash. His muscular arms crossed over his chest, biceps bulging while he glared at a spot on the opposite wall with a closed off, angry expression.
My hands curled into fists, unease sweeping through me. How had I ruined this so soon? Ruarc hadn’t even changed yet and he was already upset.
Probably regretting the necessity of having to show me his wolf.
A part of me understood—I dreaded revealing the existence of my inner monster to Ruarc and was almost happy that Ash had interrupted when he had, before I could bare my soul—but another part was hurt. After everything we’d shared, why was this so bad for him?
Steeling my resolve, I focused on what was important.
Don’t do anything offensive. Don’t stare. Just get through this without making Ruarc feel worse than he already does.
I peeked over at Jason, alarmed when I saw Ruarc wasn’t the only one affected. The grin that usually brightened Jason’s handsome face was absent. Amber eyes dark and intense, mouth a hard line, he seemed a different person.
Ash followed my gaze, brows drawing together. “Maybe one is enough.”
“No.” Lucien rose with a fluid grace I could only envy. “I will join Ruarc. At the Assembly, we will be surrounded by wolves and it is imperative she does not panic.”
Panic? Why would I panic?
3
Lucien
The sour taste of betrayal lingered on my tongue as I followed Ruarc toward the kitchen. Bitterness warred with a vindictive urge to punish the vexing female. To make her feel what I’d felt when the scent of her fear had coated my mouth with its vitriolic flavor.
Just when I’d begun to—
“Move,” Ruarc snarled and barreled ahead.
I see I’m not the only one thoroughly unimpressed by that spectacle.
I felt a certain amount of twisted delight at Ruarc’s obvious anger. His brooding countenance expressed my own grievous emotions, making it easier to push them aside and coat myself in a layer of impenetrable ice.
Not as impenetrable as you once believed . . .
Why di
d the dashed female’s reaction disappoint me so severely? Had I underestimated her effect on me? Never before—not since I was a young boy—had I felt such resistance when attempting to corral my emotions. Lately, it seemed I suffered more breaches each day.
When the little minx flashed me one of her shy smiles there was no controlling the bright flare of attraction burning a hole in my armored shell. When she averted her gaze with piercing hurt written all over her pretty face, I couldn’t stop the disgraceful shame welling up at the knowledge that I had put it there.
Before Hope, I’d prided myself on my rational thinking. On my superb manners and the polite, yet cool face I showed the world. But ever since she came barreling into our lives, nothing had made sense. Least of all the lack of vindication I felt when she proved she wasn’t as perfect as the others seemed to think.
Ruarc’s furious pacing came to a halt when I entered the kitchen.
I studied his expression. Assessed his mood.
Thunderous scowl. Flashing eyes.
And . . .
I scented the air, catching the unmistakable fragrance of blood.
If his fangs had descended so violently as to pierce his lip, his control was hanging on by a thread.
“Are you certain you are able to do this?” I asked, keeping my tone cool and collected.
Spinning around to face me, Ruarc bared his teeth and snapped out a violent, “Yes.”
Even though my perceived betrayal of Hope’s character stung, I was reluctant to see her hurt. I did not doubt Ruarc’s affection for her, merely his lack of control.
“Jason can do this instead if you are unable.”
“No.” His jaw clenched. “It’s gotta be me.”
“Why?”
“Need her to accept me,” he muttered. Through the glare he aimed at the floor, I could see the wheels spinning. Planning. Plotting. And wondering. The anger he displayed seemed tainted by a deep hurt. He was doubting Hope’s feelings, perhaps? Or her ability to move past the beasts that lived within? Lifting his head, he speared me with a fearsome scowl. “What about you?”
I stilled. “What about me?”
“Don’t pretend.”
“I’ve made my opinion on the matter quite clear. What happens next is none of my concern.” The words tasted like lies.
“Good,” Ruarc growled after a lengthy pause. “Don’t need you.”
My gut wrenched. Though I knew it was for the best, something in me rebelled at being dismissed. At never knowing her touch. Never seeing the distrust in her eyes replaced by cautious warmth and the beginning of acceptance, and perhaps even affection.
Where my armor was cracking, deep in the most torn down place, I wondered if perhaps I had misjudged her yet again. I kept writing her off and she kept surprising me. It was not only her capacity for kindness and forgiveness, but her courage. Her innate goodness.
The indefinable quality that made Hope the person she was today.
Blasted fool!
She still kept secrets. Still hid the truth from us. Who knew how dangerous that truth was? And speaking of . . . “Did she tell you what she saw yesterday?”
So certain the answer would be yes, I had half turned around when his low “No,” reached my ears.
I jerked back around. “Excuse me?”
When we’d returned to the house, Ruarc had been furious—and rightly so. I had expected him to rip the truth from the human’s pretty little mouth, whatever it took. So I had left, burning off the crackling energy raging beneath my skin by racing across our territory, hunting for Strays.
When I returned, Jason hadn’t told me much, but I’d inferred enough to know they’d made up and spent the night together.
And not merely to sleep.
My fingers flexed, claws aching to tear out. “You spent the night in her bed, but failed to discover what she’d seen?”
A violent snarl, Ruarc’s wolf telling me in no uncertain terms to back off. “Worry about keeping her alive during the Assembly rather than poking your claws into old wounds.”
“These old wounds haunted her as recently as yesterday.”
“Will hunt. After the Assembly.” His voice lowered. “Her safety comes first.”
“You would give up your vengeance?”
“Never!” he snarled, breathing heavily. Then, “Would you put vengeance before her life?”
Another crack in my armor. My insides chilled, dangerous thoughts slipping through the fissures the blasted female had left behind.
Her life should not matter. Not when her death would spare my brothers the sacrifice they are determined to make.
“I am less concerned about vengeance than I am her secrets.”
Ruarc spun around and advanced on me, teeth bared. “Taking her to the Assembly. The Assembly!” He jabbed a clawed finger into my chest. “Don’t care about secrets. Care about keeping my female alive!”
Blood welled from the puncture left behind by his claw.
I swept a hand over the tiny wound. Arched a brow. “They could be one and the same.”
The stubborn male stilled. His chest expanded; a vein pulsed in his temple. Fury made his eyes glow brighter, but that was not the emotion that gripped me by the throat.
I stumbled back.
Ruarc opened his mouth but nothing came out except for a strangled snarl. The same emotion beating at his fury was beginning to beat at me, and that was simply unacceptable.
My hands flexed. “The Assembly . . . There are more dangers there than simply the Council.”
Ruarc balled his hands into fists. “Know that.”
“Some will attempt to get to us through her.”
“Know that too.”
“Many of them hate humans.”
Ruarc growled.
Air filled my lungs and my throat burned with the need to echo the sound. Instead, I swiped at my chest and buried the sound deep. “We need to find a way to stick close during the games.”
“Won’t leave her side,” Ruarc growled, but I knew that was not a promise he could keep. Not if the Council had their way.
Perhaps he saw the doubt on my face, or perhaps he already knew. Whatever it was had him spin around, snarling under his breath and tearing off his clothes. His aggressive, volatile movements made the whole process a macabre show of strength. When he tore his jeans down the middle, I lifted a brow.
Ruarc noticed and followed my gaze to the ruined pieces of fabric stuck to his claws. “Was gonna throw them away,” he muttered.
“I’m sure.”
“Didn’t like them.”
“That’s fine then.”
Ruarc growled. “Mind your own fucking business.”
“I wasn’t aware I was minding yours?”
Snarling again, he let the change take him. In the mood he was in, he was likely to take a bite out of my hide, so I dropped down to my knees and let the wolf out.
My clothes ripped as my shape changed, and once I shook my fur, what was left of my suit danced in the air before falling to the floor.
My lip curled and I sneezed at the offending material.
Perhaps I was more like Ruarc than I’d thought.
4
Hope
When I spotted the massive, silent beast standing at the entrance to the living room, all the air in my lungs trembled out in a silent gasp.
Ruarc.
I recognized him right away. It wasn’t just his size—much bigger than a normal wolf—or the distinctive silver eyes that were somehow even more breathtaking surrounded by his inky black fur, but the way he carried himself. What made Ruarc, Ruarc, was apparent in the proud tilt of the wolf’s head, the broad, defiant stance that all but dared you to come closer, and the bristling aggression seeping off him like flames licking up the very walls meant to contain it.
Ruarc lowered his head, eyes locked on me, and held still. There was something about him, something that urged me to take care with how I dealt with the situation. There was a strange vuln
erability about him that contrasted with the force behind his burning, angry gaze and the power in his massive body.
He’s so beautiful.
Despite his size and the strength visible in every line of his body, Ruarc’s wolf was breathtakingly beautiful.
Fur so black it seemed to draw light out of the room, with a tiny speck of white at the tip of both his long, fuzzy ears that made me want to sigh with adoration. His eyes, always a luminous silver, looked even more alive and vibrant. Even his muzzle—hiding formidable weapons I was less excited to see—was beautiful. Long and powerful, with a few black whiskers I was dying to run my hands over.
I was leaning forward, neck craned, trying to see as much of him as possible. My eyes were probably round as saucers—and as wide too—but I couldn’t seem to make myself look away.
A short huff left the black beast. When I didn’t move, he eyed me with a caution I didn’t understand and slowly made his way to the couch, stopping just out of reach.
Holding my breath, my whole body shaking with excitement, I barely managed to keep my hands to myself. One of them twitched in my lap, wanting so badly to reach out and touch the silky-looking fur, but I forced it to stay where it was. Tearing my gaze away from the amazing sight in front of me proved almost impossible, but the last thing I wanted was to offend Ruarc or make him feel like a freak.
“He won’t hurt you, love,” Jason murmured. A concerned frown marred his handsome, sun-kissed face, furrows between his brows. “It’s only Ruarc.”
“I know,” I whispered back. My throat was dry—not from fear, but from excitement and nerves.
I really didn’t want to mess this up.
“Why don’t you—”
Ash cut him off. “Let her go at her own speed, Jason.”
I glanced at Ash, wondering at his carefully blank expression, and looked back to Jason. Both seemed so concerned.
Am I doing this wrong?
A low whine yanked my attention back to Ruarc, and this time I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Belly dragging along the floor, he crawled the last few steps that separated us and looked at me with his ears flat against his head and his muzzle pointing down.