He shook himself back to reality and moved his wet hands up, under her dress, mesmerized by the moment, wondering what was going on in her far-away head.
The soap slipped over her breasts and her nipples. He’d seen them, on more than one occasion, when they thought Gabriel was asleep, and when the fence was turned off. He’d touched her nipples. Even kissed them once. But they could never do too much, for fear that, at any moment, they’d be half-electrocuted.
Owen had been dreaming about this moment in the darkness for twenty-four days. He didn’t want it to end. There was a hunter in the woods somewhere, but he didn’t care. He just wanted his fingers to continue to explore her body.
Clara finally glanced down at him and slid her hand along his face, while his fingers brought water to rinse the soap from her breasts. She stroked his cheek for a long moment and stared into his eyes.
She bent down and brushed her lips across his, almost like an absent thought. Like they were standing in a kitchen somewhere in Middle America, and he was loading the dishwasher, and she was overtaken with a moment of desire for him. Or him for her.
It was the strangest feeling, to finally be able to touch her. It made his insides liquefy when she kissed him, and he could palm the whole weight of her breast with one hand, and slip his fingers inside her with the other. This was the kind of freedom he’d been dreaming about.
Clara whimpered against him and sank to her knees, gripping the sides of his face with both hands. She was back again, from her trip to the past, and she was ready to participate in her own washing.
That was why they’d stopped in the stream. To wash.
He leaned back to catch his breath, and pulled her dress over her head in one quick motion, plunging it into the water. Clara gasped and sank her hands into his wet hair, taking his lips with hers. The press of her hard nipples against his chest made him release the soap and the dress and pull her up to be able to wrap her legs around his body.
Stop. Stop. Stop. He pulled at her hands and settled her back into the water, looking around for the soap. “We need to wash,” he panted. “And then I have to take you to the cave.”
“I don’t want to stop.” She leaned toward him, snaking her hand down to touch his erection through the soaking fabric of his loincloth.
Owen grunted and crushed her body against his. He laid on top of her, the water washing over them both, streaming her hair along with the current. But it was too deep to lay her against the bottom, and he had to pull her up for air.
All the more reason they should head for the cave. He reached for the dress that had tangled around her foot, and rung it out, pulling it back over her body. No matter how much sparked between them, and no matter how hard he was, he had to get control of himself.
“I just need you to be safe,” he whispered against her, kissing her one last time. “Now let’s go upstream and drink, so we can get to the cave.”
She climbed to her feet and twisted her long hair in her hands, wringing out the water. “We’re going up the stream?”
“To drink first,” he said, looking around for the soap. But it was gone. It’d washed away, along with the dirt and grime. He hoped someone would find it and put it to good use. He wouldn’t get any more if Gabriel was the one who died in this hunt.
“What happens after we drink?”
“The stream goes through the cave.” He sloshed through the water a few feet and came to the little pool where the stream started to get deeper. “That’s how we found it the first time.” He waved his hand. “Or, I guess, how Gabe found it.”
“And the cave is where we’ll hide.” She squeezed his hand. “So we can both be safe.”
“Yes.” Owen stopped and bent over to get some water from the pool. “Now drink. We should reach the cave soon.”
He didn’t add that there was no way he could stay in the cave. Not if they were going to shift. It wouldn’t be big enough for two fully-sized wolves. So one of them was going to have to go back out and brave the hunt.
And it would be him.
And he would survive.
Chapter Three
RAINIER DUBOIS
* * *
Rain shifted in his heavy combat gear and held his breath as his Black Wolf Rangers and the enforcer team jumped into the waist-high water and waded onto the sand at the edge of the inlet.
The entire beach was dark and the motors ran quiet. Maggie had done well in the procurement department.
But there were too many people in the boats. He shouldn’t have let Maggie talk him into letting the whole team come along. His Rangers should’ve been enough.
He signaled to Duke, in the other boat. They began to jump out, leaving Colt in one boat and Alex in the other. Both of the men were fathers—or about to be, in Alex’s case—and Rain would never have told them this, but they weren’t all coming back from this mission.
There were too many unknowns.
He’d rather not have to tell Colt’s kids, or Alex’s pregnant mate, they weren’t coming home. Someone needed to stay with the boats.
And if they didn’t like it, at least they were following orders.
“Rain!” Maggie’s hiss-whisper cut through the group of bodies around him. She pointed at a black hulking building rising out of the water.
The boathouse.
He nodded and she broke away from the group with Luther and Donovan following her. Luther’s friend should be at the controls, and they needed to get him into the boat.
“You, with me.” Rain gestured behind him and led the groups up the beach, splitting toward the treeline and keeping along the edge of the inlet where the cliffs began to their left. They should be under cover.
Once they made it into the trees, they hunkered down and watched. Maggie, Luther, and Donovan scrambled up the steps in the front of the boathouse and disappeared inside, only shadows in the dark.
Banner’s watch flashed a red light and he pressed his ear. “Roger that.” He nodded at Rain. “We should do a comm check before we move again. Colt has the radio up, and the motor off.”
Rain touched his communicator and Colt’s voice sparked in his ear in the middle of some conversation with Banner. “…keep the motors off until you give the signal from the beach.”
Banner’s hulking voice came at Rain in stereo. “Two flashes means we’ve got wolves with us. Three flashes for enemy fire.”
“Copy,” Colt said in Rain’s ear.
Rain opened his mouth to respond when he saw Maggie’s hands waving back and forth on the front of the boathouse.
In the faint moonlight, he could just see the shadow of her movements. He looked around the beach and focused his senses.
“She’s breaking protocol,” Duke growled from behind Rain’s left shoulder.
“What does she want?” Niko asked from the back of the second team. “That’s not a code I recognize.”
“Something’s wrong.” Rain stood, holding his hand for everyone to stay put. “I’ll be back. No one moves except on my order.” He ducked and took off across the beach, taking the stairs up to the boathouse.
Maggie took him by the shoulder without words and pulled him inside the house.
Luther and Donovan were kneeling on the floor near one of the windows.
Rain could smell the blood before he saw the body. He focused his eyes, but still couldn’t make out anything on the dark floor.
“It’s your friend?” Rain said to Luther.
The big, bald man nodded slowly. “One shot, it looks like.” He flashed a smartphone on and in the dim, blue glow,
Rain saw one narrow trail of something dark, running down what looked like pallid skin. But the light went out with another blink. He pressed the comm button. “Colt, that’s a negative on the extra civilian. DOA.” The short response barely registered in his ear.
“Why would they kill Brooks?” Maggie’s tone read barely-leashed-emotion, though Rain couldn’t see her face in all the darkness.
“No
t sure.” Luther stood and clapped Donovan on the shoulder. “We should take him to the boat.”
“Negative,” Rain said with a shake of his head.
“I’m not leaving him here.”
“We have to leave him until we’ve secured the island.” Rain pointed to the door with the butt of his leashed M4. “We need to get back to the team.”
“I said,” Luther took a step closer, “I’m not leaving him here.”
He forced air through his nose and shook his head. “I get it, Luther. You’re feeling guilty. You gotta let that shit go. Posthaste. We don’t have time for you to feel guilty about any of this. I need to know you’re copacetic.”
The former cop took a few long breaths, but did a damn fine job of getting himself under control. “I’m coming back for him before we leave the island.” He pushed off his heel and went through the boathouse door.
“I’m sorry, Luther.” Maggie’s hand brushed across his shoulder and Luther waved her off. She and Donovan followed Rain through the door.
“He lost a friend,” the Kentucky wolf said. “We can’t expect him to just slough that off.”
Rain laughed and followed Luther across the beach. “I can expect whatever the hell I want.”
Donovan grunted. “Yeah, I guess you can.”
“He’ll be fine. I promise.” Maggie’s voice was the farthest back, and Rain turned to make sure she was keeping up.
He felt the shot before he heard it. A hard, ripping sensation caught him in the chest and he stumbled back. Donovan had his hands around Rain’s shoulders and was dragging him backward when another bullet buzzed through the air. Past them.
Rain hit his comm button. “Shots fired. Return fire.”
A hail of blasts sounded and he couldn’t see anything. His heart plummeted as Donovan continued to drag him up the beach and into the bush. He felt on his chest and the slug was there. His vest had caught it.
The pain would continue until his body healed the bruise, but he gritted his teeth and climbed to his feet. He called out orders to the team leaders and they split apart, finding cover and returning fire.
Rain looked up the beach. He could barely make out shadows, but the blast of their gunfire gave them away. The gunfire stopped as abruptly as it had started, and the hollow beats of footsteps sounded in its place. The Rangers stopped shooting and everyone listened.
“Three of them,” Duke yelled, slinging his gun onto his back.
Rain turned to Banner and Brown. “Alpha team, continue to the big house, as planned. Report your position when you arrive. I’ll take Bravo team in pursuit of the combatants.” The two big Rangers nodded. He smacked Duke on the shoulder.
Harrison Duke was a team leader, a wolf, and a soldier. Still, Rain didn’t like the idea of splitting up. His best friend gave him a curt shake of his head.
No goodbyes.
“Luther, Donovan, you’re with me,” Rain said, giving the signal to move out. “Let’s go.”
The five other Rangers in Bravo team followed him up the beach, after the retreating guards. He wasn’t certain how many guards there were in front of them, but the women needed to go to the house. There were so many girls being held in that place, they’d need Hannah and Dani to soften out Viper and Duke and the big, black-clad, testosterone-heavy Rangers.
Rain listened for the guard’s running feet and light, tripping heartbeats. He led the group up to the left of the worn road, into the deep foliage of the forest, and tried to keep his focus on finding the enemy.
He’d been waiting for months to get this payback, and he was going to take revenge on the people who helped Adrian Rossi torture and pimp out a bunch of wolves.
The alphas may have wanted Adrian back alive, but they hadn’t specified keeping anyone else alive, and if Rain could help it, not one of the guards would survive.
Chapter Four
CLARA ROSSI
* * *
Clara looked over her shoulder at the higher ground where Owen thought Gabriel might be. She said a silent prayer for her half-brother’s safety. He hadn’t spoken to her since she’d been thrown in the pit. Not one word. She’d thought he was dead. Nine years.
Tears welled in her eyes and she shook her head, blinking them away. How many other siblings had she lost to this pit? How many had disappeared and just been forgotten?
Damon came in and had hosed them down. Fed them. He knew they were there. He’d known Gabriel was there and hadn’t said anything. He’d known about this barbaric hunting her father prearranged.
Adrian Rossi let men on the island, not only to rape and torture; he let men —humans—on the island to kill wolves. And humans he’d had turned into wolves. Murder for sport.
Her stomach twisted. It was horrible. What she’d witnessed over the years. What she’d cleaned up after. The blood. The tears. But she’d never imagined this… being hunted…like an animal.
She hadn’t been the right genetic mashup for her father. Red hair and freckles had landed her on the island staff, but at least it’d kept her out of the hands of her father’s sadistic visitors.
Clara cupped her hand in the water around her waist, letting a small portion collect before bringing her hand to her mouth. “I’d forgotten how good clean water could taste.”
Owen grunted. “Yeah the crap they bring us usually tastes like it was poured out of a grease bucket from the kitchen.”
She guzzled down another handful of the cool water and closed her eyes. The jungle was quiet, except for the slight rustle of leaves in the breeze and the swish of the gentle current flowing around them.
“Something happened to Gabriel.”
“Huh?” Owen asked, pausing.
“He changed. He won’t talk to me. Not once did he say a single word.”
Owen sighed. “Gabriel doesn’t talk to anyone.”
“He used to speak to me. Before…when he lived in the villa.”
“Clara. That man you remember. He’s gone.” Owen shook his head. “You can’t help him. He’s beyond that.”
“No one’s beyond saving, Owen.”
He snorted. “I know a few.”
She frowned. He meant her father. As much as she hated to eat her own words, Owen was right. There were some on the island who were beyond saving. Her father was no exception. But Gabriel had been kind and strong. He just needed to remember.
“There,” he said, breaking through her deep train of though. “We have to go under right here.” He pointed to what looked like a solid wall of rock in front of them.
There was a tiny gap between the water and the rock ceiling. Without knowing to look for it, she’d have never seen the opening to the cave.
Trepidation lit across her skin, tingling like needle pricks. It looked dark and cramped. “Are you sure we can fit?” That wasn’t really what she wanted to say. She wanted to scream and jump out of the water. How could he think she’d be okay going into a tiny little dark cave?
“Yes, I promise. You’ll be safe here.” Owen pulled her forward. The stream got deeper, rising to her chest as they waded toward the entrance where the water disappeared beneath the rock.
Fear pressed in on her and she couldn’t breathe. Her lungs wouldn’t work. She couldn’t do this.
“Take a breath, Clara. It’s not far, just don’t let go of me.”
“I can’t. You know I don’t like this. I can’t do this.”
“I refuse to lose you to a hunter. This is the best way to protect you.”
She finally gasped in a breath and nodded. It was the absolute last thing she wanted to do…ever, but he wouldn’t ask her if he didn’t think it was necessary. She filled her lungs again before plunging beneath the slow-flowing stream. They ducked beneath the surface he pulled her forward with strong sure strokes. She counted to ten before he tugged her up to the surface and placed her feet on slippery ground. Rock. Water swirled around her shoulders.
“Watch your head as you climb up on the ledge. It’s only about three fe
et high.”
Clara squeezed his hand as he pushed her gently against a ledge. Using her elbows, she pulled herself out of the water and scooted away from the edge. She couldn’t see anything. The blackness was unnerving and every single breath was forced. “Owen?”
His heartbeat was still present, but she’d let go of his hand.
He grunted and suddenly his body was pressed against hers. The cold of the rock at her back couldn’t compete with the spark of heat between them every time they touched. From the moment she’d been thrown into that horrible pit, she’d known she belonged to Owen. They were soul mates.
She’d never felt her magick reach for anyone, and with him it was like powerful arms pulling them closer and closer.
To be able to touch him only through the chain link fence had been torture. But now…now they were sandwiched together and all she wanted to do was be closer. His touch helped her forget that she was living one of her nightmares. She wanted his hands on her again like they’d been while he washed her.
Those caresses had been pure heaven. She’d never had sex before, but it was more than sex she wanted.
Owen was her other half. She had no doubt. She loved him. She’d do anything for him, including stay in this cramped pitch-black space even though it was petrifying.
“Talk to me.” For twenty-four days she’d gotten to know Owen. He’d told her about the farm in Iowa where he’d grown up. About the snow that blanketed the land every year and how people had to dig out of their houses sometimes when it would blizzard. About his brothers and sisters. His parents. She loved the stories about his family playing games by the fire. “Tell me about your home. You’re going to take me one day, right?”
“Absolutely,” Owen answered gently. He rotated his body so that they were front to front. His hand slid over her shoulder and up to her face, coming to a stop on her cheek. “My family will love you. We’ll have dinner together and sit around the fire drinking hot cocoa.” He pulled her head closer and she sighed as his lips covered hers.
Broken Wolf: Moonbound Series, Book Seven Page 15