Outcast BoxSet

by Emilia Hartley

  The easiest option would be to kill the woman and be done with it, but the thought made Rhylan’s stomach turn. He looked to Nora and knew she would think the same. Cordelia was her mother. Even if she’d been a horrid mother, no one wanted to have to do something like that. Hell, Rhylan suspected the only person in the parking lot that would want to kill Cordelia was Jax.

  Rhylan crossed his arms and sank into thought. There had to be another option. The hunters seemed too well prepared to fight against their kind. Sydney told them about how Cordelia had filled her house with silver in case of an invasion. Nora told them about all the precautions the woman had taken throughout her life.

  “We weaken her,” Rhylan said, finally.

  Jax nodded. “Agreed, but how do we go about something like that? It’s too vague of an answer.”

  “We remove the precautions she relies on. We turn the rest of her family against her.”

  Jax stood up straight. Sydney approached the Lodge porch. They were listening to him now. He was no longer just an acquaintance they could lean on, but a brother. The thought made his heart stutter.

  What would that mean for his return? Would he ever be able to return home now? His life was bound to those surrounding him. All except for Nora.

  “Tell us everything you know about your mother’s traps.”

  She sucked in a breath, almost as if she might argue, then a wide and vicious smile overtook her face. Nora beckoned them all inside where they discussed the precautions and traps Cordelia Beauchamp had set up.

  Chapter Two

  The next day, Thalia tried to keep her head down. She did her best to complete as many rooms in as little time as possible so that her supervisor would have nothing to say. The smell of human guests made her head ache with the perfumes they used and the things they left behind. There were a number of times she had to remind herself this was the only way she was going to find her brother.

  He was here. She just knew it.

  She threw the door open and sucked in a deep breath of fresh air, gulping deep. The urge to vomit rolled through her, settling with every breath.

  “It’s you again,” his voice purred.

  Even though her eyes were closed, her body betrayed her. It leaned toward his voice. Her skin tightened, aching to know what he felt like. She swallowed and grit her teeth.

  “What can I help you with, sir?” she bit the words out, wanting nothing more than to turn away from him. To linger in his presence was to be pulled in, something she didn’t want to risk.

  When she finally dared to crack her eyes open, she caught him glancing around. Suddenly, he was in front of her. There was a wall to her back and the bronze man to her front. Her breath caught. Her heart threatened to stop.

  Fury was distant to the throb of her body, welcoming his presence like the betrayer it was. Thalia had no time for this. Her feet slid apart, ready to strike like she had the day before.

  The moment dragged on. Tormenting her.

  Her heart pounded double-time. He tugged her chin upward, their eyes meeting. It made her breath catch. His eyes gleamed, flashing with the colors of molten metals. Gold. Copper. Bronze. He was a creature of beauty.

  She should shove him away.

  This was the last thing she needed. She’d left one man behind when she left home. That wasn’t just so she could run into the arms of another. She had a mission. Find her brother. Take him home. The end.

  This man was not going to throw a wrench in those plans. No man was.

  “How about this?” he purred. “You have a drink with me. Just one.”

  “What makes you think my answer has changed since yesterday?” She didn’t bother hiding the creature inside her. She let it growl and lunge toward the surface so that he could see she was not defenseless. One would think he’d seen that yesterday.

  His face betrayed the war inside himself. His eyes dropped to her lips, the air between them charged and heated. It was almost as if there were two souls inside him, fighting over the moment. What to say, what to do. He couldn’t decide.

  She would decide for him. She placed her hands on his chest to shove him away when he spoke.

  “Have that drink with me or else I’ll tell your supervisor what you did yesterday.”

  Her stomach plummeted. When she spoke, her voice was breathy, as if he’d stolen it from her. “You wouldn’t.”

  He licked his lips, still at war with himself. “You don’t know what I would or wouldn’t do.”

  Even though she managed to keep her face a mask of anger and indifference, inside she was crying. He threatened everything. He risked her job, her life, for one small drink. Her eyes burned with tears that screamed to be shed, but she tightened her jaw and refused to let them fall.

  “Fine. One drink.” She had to. It was her only option.

  Besides, how bad could one drink be? If that was all he wanted, she could deal with it. If he expected more, she could use the time to start looking for other jobs. There was no way she could stay in town without a job, and there was no way she was leaving Fangway without what she’d come for.

  Thalia wanted to punch him in the face. She wanted to shove him to the floor and show him who she really was, but there were too many constraints. She did not have the power here that she’d had at home. Here, she was no one’s daughter. She was nothing.

  Thalia let out a strangled breath, trying to smother the whine that threatened to escape her at the end. The man seemed to notice, taking a step back. At least there was no smug look on his face. He didn’t seem proud of what he’d done. Only driven.

  As if he couldn’t get enough of her.

  The thought warmed her in ways she hadn’t expected. Her thumb shifted to feel the empty space on her ring finger. It was empty, and she’d enjoyed that fact for the past few months.

  Thalia licked her lips and shifted away from the man. “Can I at least have your name if you’re going to force me into this?”

  He swallowed. Regret was clear, as soon as she spoke, but he didn’t rescind his blackmail. “Rhylan.”

  She laughed. “What kind of a name is Rhylan?”

  His brows lowered. “And yours?”

  “My what?”

  “Name. What is your name?” His eyes were earnest, glowing with the molten color that beckoned her closer to him. How could someone so evil do this to her? How could she want him like this?

  Her mouth went dry. “Thalia. Thalia Moseby.”

  He smiled and lifted his hand, as if to shake it. Thalia gave it a pointed look and crossed her arms over her chest. The hand faltered, his expression following until it all fell, and he put his hand back where it belonged.

  “I’m not going for that drink right now if that’s what you think,” Thalia reminded him. “I’m working and I… well, I can’t get a drink right now.”

  He nodded, stuffing his hands in his pockets and staring at the ground.

  Good. Be awkward, she thought.

  She looked away, her eyes roving over the distant mountains. She would do this. It was only a hurtle in the way of finding her brother. Just another obstacle, easily overcome. She’d wanted to prowl the mountains after work, search for any sign of her brother, but she could take this one night off.

  Right?

  The idea of taking time off from her mission caused a sharp ache in her chest. Regret and fear sliced through her. But, her body also begged for the time off. It begged for sleep and recovery. Things she had not given herself in months.

  “Meet me here at eight?” Rhylan ventured, almost sheepishly.

  The look on his face did things to her that she hated. It twisted her heart and pulled her toward him.

  ***

  Rhylan almost hated himself. He certainly hated the creature squatting inside him that pushed him to say the things he’d said. It was below him, this kind of behavior. Yet, he couldn’t seem to stop himself where she was concerned. He wanted to be around her at all times, to learn about her and all the things sh
e knew.

  His time as a shifter had been short lived, and Jax hadn’t been the most open about what they were. Especially since Sydney entered his life. His packmate’s life had revolved around the woman and left no room for questions or answers. If this Thalia knew anything, he was going to pick her brain.

  He needed to know how to get his life back, how to go back to the man he’d been before the attack. It was all he wanted.

  No, that wasn’t right.

  He wanted her, too. He wanted to taste her skin, so pale and dusky. He wanted to feel it beneath his hands, pressed against his bare flesh. He wanted to hear the small sounds in her throat as he brought her to climax.

  He shook his head. His mind was polluted with invasive thoughts, probably placed there by the creature squatting in the distant corners.

  Rhylan backpedaled, giving her the space she deserved. Thalia glowered at him, but it didn’t hide the upturned corner of her mouth. Maybe he was growing on her. Maybe, she was imagining ways to kill him in her mind.

  He watched her smooth back her hair and straighten herself before moving on to the next room. His eyes never left her, studying the sway of her hips and the stomp of her feet until he smiled.

  He opened his mouth to apologize, but the vixen had already turned and stalked away from him. He wanted to cry out, to chase after her. But nothing moved. His body stayed rooted where it was. She moved further and further away until she disappeared altogether.

  Rhylan didn’t know what to do with himself. His hands ached for the feeling of her. His beast howled for her, scratching and inching closer to her. Rationally, he wanted answers from her. What did she do when she could barely stand the smell of the world? How did she cope with the second voice always at war with reason?

  Irrationally? He wanted to hear her scream his name.

  Chapter Three

  Thalia scowled at herself in the cheap, floor-length mirror she’d picked up from a yard sale months ago. A strange sense of defeat overwhelmed her as she yanked the cheap dress over her head. There was nothing in her closet that made her feel attractive in any way. In the last hour, she’d tried on five outfits. All were second hand pieces including two sundresses, a short skirt, and a pant suit.

  They all hung awkwardly from her ample curves or had weird stains or inconvenient tears. Finally, Thalia threw herself down onto her mattress. She could just not show up, she thought. But, if she didn’t, he would tell her boss that she’d entered his room without knocking and then assaulted him. Thalia let out a groan, having trapped herself in this mess.

  The strangest part was that she wanted to look nice for him. It would be easy to show up as a frumpy and grumpy version of herself to drive him away, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Thalia let out a frustrated growl, kicking the air.

  Finally, she rolled off the mattress and scanned the clothes she’d thrown around the room. She didn’t even put in this much effort when she’d been introduced to Miles. The thought made a laugh bubble through her. Miles was miles and miles away. She didn’t have to worry about him or what he meant to her future.

  Not tonight, at least.

  Her thumb rubbed over the empty skin of her ring finger. A sigh of relief slipped through her lips. She bent to retrieve a hot pink pencil skirt from the floor and tugged it over her hips. There was a ruffled button-down blouse a few feet away, but she opted to reach for the cropped band tee instead.

  It was only a drink, she told herself. She’d go, order something expensive and make him pay for it, then come home. Tomorrow would be like any other day, unaffected by the presence of the shifter man. She’d go to work and use the rest of her night to try finding her brother.

  Just like any other day.

  ***

  Rhylan leaned against the bar, twisting his whiskey back and forth as he waited. Every now and then he would lift his head to glance toward the door, but when the bartender asked what he was waiting for, he forced himself to stop.

  Part of him expected her to stand him up much like he had done to Jax a couple of weeks ago. It was only fair. Rhylan was full of awful decisions lately, unable to balance the rational side of himself with this new irrational being. What he’d done to pull this date out of Thalia had been foolish and rude. There was no way he was going to follow through on his words, but she didn’t know that.

  The wolfish part of him wanted to do it, to bend her to their will and make her obey only him. Rhylan balked at this voice. It wasn’t something he would have ever thought of before, but this new part of him was loud and oppressive. And, his need for this woman seemed to overpower any logical thought.

  The bell over the bar door sounded, ringing through his mind. His head shot up and his breath caught. He’d only ever seen Thalia wearing the plain maid’s uniform. She sauntered into the bar wearing a skirt of skin-tight pink fabric. It showcased the ample curve of her ass and thigh, making his wolf growl with voracious hunger. Slips of pale skin showed between the waistband of the skirt and the hem of her cropped shirt.

  She scanned the room with kohl-rimmed eyes. Her lips were almost the same color as her skirt, vibrant and wild. He stopped breathing, brought low by the sight of her. His heart thumped wildly. What was happening to him? Who was this woman to twist him in the ways she did?

  Her eyes fell upon him, dark daggers that pinned him to the bar as she approached. He licked his lips, wondering what foul nonsense would fall out of them today. It seemed he couldn’t balance the man and the wolf around her, and he would undoubtedly insult her again.

  She slid atop a bar stool and smiled at the bartender. The wolf snarled at the idea of her smiling at anyone but him. It wanted to possess her, show her the reasons she should only smile for him.

  For Rhylan.

  His hands itched to creep toward her, so he wrapped them around the glass of whiskey in front of her. When the bartender brought her drink, a massive glass of pink and yellow liquor that probably had a higher alcohol content than his whiskey and tasted like candy, Rhylan jerked his head toward the booths on the far end of the room. While The wolf grinned at the idea of getting her tipsy, Rhylan made a mental note to keep her from ordering more. Getting her wasted would defeat the purpose. There were so many questions under his skin that begged to be answered.

  He faltered, pausing. The wolf pushed. It didn’t agree with him and fought to take over. The woman needed him, the wolf knew it. Why didn’t Rhylan? Fighting and snarling, Rhylan managed to shove the wolf back where it belonged. The beast roared with a promise to return. The sound of it made his head ache.

  When he returned to himself, she’d slid into the seat, her eyes still scanning the room. He caught her watching the exits and cursed himself. This was not how he wanted her to feel. He didn’t want to make her wary of him. He wanted to lure her closer and closer until she fell for him, pliable in his hands.

  He told the wolf that as he slid into his own seat. They had to figure out a new way to convince her to be theirs. The wolf’s demanding plan was not going to work with her.

  She leaned forward, wrapping her lips around the tiny straw. The puckered heart-shape of them made his blood rush south. He had to adjust his pants to get comfortable. She seemed to see what she did to him and leaned back, eyes low and cheeks starting to stain pink.

  “So, what did you want with me?” she spat out. “I don’t work like some of the other maids here. You can’t slip me a pretty tip and expect me to tip into your bed and return.”

  His jaw dropped. “Some of the maids do that here?”

  He was appalled that they felt the need to do that. Didn’t this job pay well enough? Why did they need to demean themselves like that?

  She shrugged and sipped more of her drink. “Being a maid only pays minimum wage. It’s not enough to live on anymore. Hasn’t been for a while.”

  He fidgeted with his drink. “Then how do you make ends meet?”

  She looked away. He didn’t know how to translate the look on her face. He’d se
en a great number of expressions, many of them pain or anger from working in emergency rooms throughout his career. The look on her face escaped him. It was distant and filled with something he didn’t understand.

  “Alright, I’ll change my question.” He lowered his voice. “Since there’s no Pack here besides mine, what keeps you here? Why not go back to your family?”

  Her brows raised when he mentioned his own Pack. She studied him for a long moment before answering his question.

  “I’m not going home empty handed,” she said, finger circling the rim of her drink.

  His mouth went dry at the thought of sucking the liquor from her fingertip. He cursed himself and tried to redirect his mind back to the conversation.

  “Empty handed? What are you looking for?”

  Her lips pursed. She must have said more than she meant to. She leaned away from him, glancing at the exits again.

  “I get it. I’ll change the subject. I have a few questions for you anyway.” He threw back the rest of his own drink. “How do you suffer all these smells all the time?”

  She laughed. It was like a bubble that escaped her, lighting up her face for a brief instant. Her brows lifted, and her eyes widened. “What? Wait. Are you being serious?”

  He licked his lips nervously. He wanted to see her smile like that again. It sent a spark through his chest. It made him feel alive in ways only running had done since the attack.

  “You were changed. Weren’t you?” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, barely audible over the din of voices around them. Her eyes caught the scars that raked along his neck. They were wide and shiny, giant reminders of what pain he’d suffered.

  “Yes. It was a patient. He was in and out of consciousness as I worked on him. One of the times he woke up, he attacked me with unnatural speed and strength. He threw me against the surgery wall before jumping on me.”

  Her lips hung open. “How did you survive?”