Try your Grandma’s massage oil from yesterday.
‘Oh,’ she breathed out. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’
‘Think of what?’
Bron snapped upright, the chair spilling over behind her as she spun around to face the door. ‘River.’ His presence sent flickers of awareness to chase across her skin. ‘You’re here.’
He took a step in and looked at his watch. ‘Am I early? I can come back.’
‘No. Don’t go.’ Wow—did that sound desperate or what? She forced a smile to her face. ‘I was just trying to read and lost track of the time.’
‘What were you reading?’ He took another step into the room.
‘Nothing.’ She slammed the diary shut. ‘But it made me realise that the Darkness didn’t respond to that massage oil that got knocked over yesterday.’
‘Why would it react to massage oil?’ he asked, coming to sit down in the chair on the opposite side of the table.
‘Well, it wouldn’t. At least, not to something I didn’t make, given it seems to only respond to me in a negative way. But what fell off that shelf yesterday and spilled on you, that was my Grandma’s work. Full of her magic.’ She nodded towards the shelf behind him. It had been really strange. The massage oil had practically flown off the shelf, the cork popping out as it bounced on the bench and splashed all over River. She hadn’t thought about it at the time, being too busy cleaning it up and dealing with the sight of River’s skin glistening with the oil, but now she realised it had possibly been Adeline telling her something. It was worth exploring.
‘So, I was thinking that maybe I can rub some of that onto my hands and onto your shoulders—kind of give you a massage—and activate my powers slowly while doing that. See what happens. Is that okay?’
He stiffened and she thought he was going to refuse, but then he nodded.
She spun away, covering her sigh of relief. ‘Take a seat. I’ll just get everything ready.’ A few moments later, she stood behind him. ‘Okay, can you move the chair away from the table—I might need to move around you. Good. Ready?’
‘As ready as I’ll ever be,’ he said tightly.
She poured massage oil into her palms, rubbed them together for a moment and then placed her oil-coated hands on his shoulders. Nothing happened. Encouraged, she moved her hands across his shoulders and back. Still nothing. Her grandma’s magic tingled her fingertips, but the Darkness didn’t seem to care it was there at all.
Interesting.
She moved her hands across his shoulders, fingertips digging into the smooth, warm skin. River stiffened. ‘Sorry. Did I hurt you?’
‘No. I’m just not used … to being touched.’
Bron cursed herself. He’d been kept segregated from everyone except his grandmother, Skye, their butler and the cook. Pack-touch would even seem strange to him. But she knew he needed it. Everyone needed touch, the Were even more so. Taking a steadying breath, she forced a smile into her voice. ‘Just take deep breaths. The scent in this oil should help calm you. Let it sink into your senses.’
River jerked his head in a tight nod and breathed in deeply, but it didn’t seem to work. As she moved her fingers along his shoulders, his neck, up to the base of his scalp, around to touch his third eye, his breath hitched, fluttering over her wrists, and he became even more tense. ‘Okay. This isn’t working. I’m just going to try a little something. Tell me if you feel anything … untoward.’
Moving her hands so one splayed across his shoulder blade, the other on his chest over his heart, she pushed calm through her fingers and into him. It was a risk, but so far the Darkness hadn’t reacted at all to the magic in the oil and she was hoping that it would be enough to mute its ability to sense what she was doing.
He stiffened.
Oh, Goddess. Please let this work.
His gaze snapped up to hers. ‘Bronwyn?’ he breathed, his shoulders relaxing, the rage that always seemed to be lurking in him fading from his eyes. She almost cried in relief that it had worked, but there wasn’t time for that. She pushed further in, using her grandma’s magic as a conduit.
Colours sparked before her eyes as his auras came alive in her mind. The Darkness, turgid and glistening, still lay between them, and in the Darkness, the Beast was there, pacing, lunging to be allowed out to play. She could feel it. See it. It was different from before, more present. It had pushed River’s wolf further inside. A once proud wolf who due to years of imprisonment now cowered in the background, crying for help; begging not to be forgotten. That plea broke her heart.
She sent calm and love and hope through her hands and into River, hoping the wolf would be able to sense some part of that. The Beast snapped at her, fighting, but she harnessed the spark of her grandma’s magic in the cream, wrapped it around the calm and love and hope she pulled from inside herself, and shoved it towards the Beast. She felt the sting of its snarl in her mind, but then it backed away. It hadn’t gone, but it had subsided to a place where it could do no more harm. At least for now.
It was a victory. The Darkness cringed back, too. It seemed unable to lash out at this new, unfamiliar magic. That was wholly unexpected and very interesting. She poured more oil onto her hands and then shifted, so that she could place both hands on his chest now.
His skin was so warm under hers, the muscles firm. She noticed his nipples were pebbled. ‘Are you cold?’
‘No.’ His voice sounded choked. She looked down at him, but he had his face turned away so she couldn’t read his expression. ‘This isn’t hurting you?’ He shook his head. ‘Okay.’
Her fingers moved and she watched the impact her grandma’s magic mixed with her own had on him. His auras, usually thin and dull, began to spark and pulse. They were far from healthy—the Darkness was still there exerting its influence—but they were looking better. She pushed all negative thoughts aside and filled her mind with thoughts of sunshine and filtered the emotion through the conduit into him. The Darkness seemed to dull.
Her insides trembled. She swept her hands over his shoulders, shaping the muscles in his arms, watched as the spark in his auras enveloped the length of his artistic fingers. It made sense that his hands would be the first to register the change in his auras—they were the conduit to his creativity. She brushed her hands up over his shoulders again and back to his chest, palms down. She could feel his nipples, hard pebbles under her palms. His breath hitched. Heat flushed her skin, but she tried to ignore it, tried to ignore her awareness of him and concentrate on what she was doing. It was working. For the first time since she’d helped him change back from the Beast, she was using her magic on him and it was working. She bit her lip, closed her eyes and leaned closer, concentrating on what she could see in her mind’s eye.
‘Bronwyn?’ River’s shuddering voice broke into her thoughts. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m helping.’ And she was. She actually was.
‘Bronwyn. Can you just stop for a moment? I’m …’ He shifted and something hard brushed against her stomach.
She opened her eyes and stilled. His mouth was only inches from hers. How had he got so close? If she leaned forward just a little, her lips would be on his.
No! She couldn’t have that thought. Look away. Don’t think about his lips. Looking down, she saw she’d pushed herself to stand in the v of his legs. Fire raged over her skin as she realised what she could feel pressing into her stomach. ‘Oh.’
His breath was coming hard and fast, fluttering the wisps of her hair, cool against her too-hot skin. His jaw was rigid, his lips pressed into a white line, nostrils flaring. She looked down at her hands and saw that she’d been rubbing them over his nipples and hadn’t even noticed how tense he’d become.
How had she not noticed?
‘Bronwyn, you need to move.’ His husky voice would normally have tempted her closer, but his tension snapped through her, finally infiltrating the haze being so close to him brought to her mind. She stumbled back, banging into the table.
/>
He reached out for her, but she twisted away. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes. I’m fine,’ she managed. Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, the sound of their breathing heavy on the air. Goddess forgive her, she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to go over and slide her fingers into his soft hair and pull those full lips against hers, losing herself in the flavour of him.
His nostrils flared and a sound like a groan broke from his throat as his hands gripped the arms of the chair he sat in, the wood grinding under his fingers.
Fuck. She was upsetting him. What kind of healer was she? She was supposed to be calming him down, not riling him up.
She broke the grip of his gaze and lurched over to the sink, turning the tap on to wash her hands. She was suddenly so hot. Burning up. Her knees were shaking. She jerked off the tap and grabbed a cloth to wipe her hands. She had to calm down. Okay, so she’d almost climbed on top of River and attacked him, but she hadn’t. Really, she shouldn’t be having this much of an embarrassed reaction.
Heat flared through her and she almost swayed, dizzy. Shit. She wasn’t going to pass out from desire like some ridiculous schoolgirl with a crush. Squaring her shoulders, she threw the cloth down turned. ‘Look, River …’
‘Bronwyn? What is that?’
She looked down at her hands. ‘Crap.’ Golden-orange flame with green at its heart flickered on her hands. She looked up at him and the power surged through her, arcing out of her fingers towards the one source in the room that could channel it from her. ‘River, you have to leave.’
His surprised expression disappeared to be replaced with one of steely determination. He took a step towards her. ‘This is from Skye again, isn’t it? Didn’t you get any warning?’
‘If I had, do you think I would have been touching you?’
‘You need to touch me. You need to expel the energy in me.’
She shook her head. ‘Not going to happen.’ She backed away.
‘It’s how this is supposed to work.’
‘Maybe for the others, but not with you. Not until we’ve figured out what’s stopping your change.’ As she spoke, she began to shake, the power increasing in intensity more suddenly and voraciously than before. The heat of it moved from her fingertips to curl over her palms, across her wrists. It was coming on fast. Much faster than last time. It must have caught Skye by surprise with no Were around again.
Goddess, why did Iain and Patrick have to be running the perimeter? ‘I’ll phone Iain,’ she said, her teeth chattering as the power wrapped around her chest, little licks of flame lunging up her neck. She winced. It wasn’t burning her, but it was hot and uncomfortable all the same. She had to get her phone. But River was standing in the way. ‘River, move. I can’t … touch you.’
‘No. Use me.’
‘No.’
‘Because I’m broken? Because I’m useless?’
‘No!’ He stepped closer. She stepped back. ‘River, please …’
He shook his head. ‘If you don’t think I’m useless, use me. Don’t be worried about hurting me. I was born for pain. It’s so familiar, it’s almost a friend.’
She wanted to cry. Not just because of the words, but because he meant them. ‘No, you weren’t.’ Her teeth snapped closed as the pain increased, burrowing an ice-pick into her head. But still, she had to tell him, had to get him to understand. Through clenched teeth she gasped, ‘You were born … for love … and friendship and beauty. Pain is not … your friend.’
‘It’s more my friend than yours. Give it to me, before it finds a home in you.’
‘No. Patrick and Iain…’ She cried out as the pain lacerated through her skull.
‘Fuck this, Bronwyn. You have to use me before it’s too late.’ And then, in one of those lightning-fast moves she still hadn’t got used to, River reached around her and grabbed her hands in his.
Shocked by the sensation of being encased in his arms, she didn’t even have a chance to try to stop the power from lashing out and into him. ‘River, no!’
He stiffened. His teeth snapped closed, his lips pulled back from them, the tendons in his neck standing out like hard wires. For a long moment she was caught in the grip of his arms, unable to move, unable to help or do anything but watch him twitch and try to hold back the moans as the power crashed through him, unable to find a home. He began to vibrate, his teeth clacking together, saliva foaming at the corners of his mouth. His arms tightened around her, almost crushing the air from her. She let out a gasp of pain.
He let go, his eyes rolling up into his head, and collapsed onto the floor with a thump.
‘Bron, are you okay in here? I heard shouting.’
She didn’t look up at Helen as her assistant opened the door, because her gaze was pinned on River.
Why had he done that? All he had to do was call the others. Even though the power was hurting her, she could have waited for them to get here. He didn’t have to take on that pain for her. It didn’t make sense. She wanted to drop to her knees, to check on him, to brush his hair back from his brow, to wipe the spittle from his lips, but she was afraid to touch him for fear of giving him more pain. Her fingers weren’t hot anymore, but they were still tingling.
‘Bron. What the hell happened? Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine, Helen.’
‘What happened to River?’
Bron shook her head. She couldn’t tell Helen. Her fellow Wiccan had yet to be brought into the secret world of the Were. Although if things like this kept happening, she would have to be told. Tearing her gaze from River’s prone form, she said, ‘River’s epileptic. He’s just had a fit. I’ve got to ring Skye and Jason. Can you please check he’s okay while I do that?’
‘What do I do if he comes to?’
Bron’s mouth twisted as she looked down at River’s pale face. ‘It was a grande mal seizure, so he probably won’t come around for a while. Put him in the recovery position and make sure he’s breathing. I’ll be right back.’
She raced out of the room, ran over to the desk, made a quick call to Skye. Her friend picked up on the second ring.
‘Are you okay? I didn’t feel it coming on. Jason isn’t here, otherwise I would have—’
‘Skye, I’m fine.’ She cut into her friend’s rambling. ‘It’s River. He was with me.’
‘You didn’t channel it into him? How could you?’
She felt the jab of Skye’s words deep in her chest, tearing at the hole that the acid of guilt had already gnawed there. ‘I didn’t mean to. I was trying to get him to call one of the others, but he’s so stubborn, and before I could stop him, he grabbed me.’
‘Oh, God! Why would he do that?’
‘You tell me. But that doesn’t matter now. I need help.’
‘Where are your Shadows?’
‘River said they were running the perimeter.’
‘Fudge that. They shouldn’t have left.’
‘They trusted him. It’s a good thing,’ she said, as much to remind herself as her friend. ‘But I need them back now. River has to be moved and I’d like to try a healing on him, but I can’t risk touching him myself.’
‘I’ll call Jason. He’ll get them to you in a few minutes.’
‘Is Adam with Shelley?’
‘Yes.’
Bron breathed a sigh of relief. If it had been this bad for her, she was worried about what it had done to her friend.
‘I’m coming now.’
‘You don’t have to.’
‘I want to.’
Bron nodded and hung up. Her fingers still tingled with warmth. She was right about needing more than one person to channel the power into. She needed Patrick or Iain to get here soon, otherwise it would start hurting again.
Patrick chose that moment to enter the shop. She didn’t need to explain—she could see the knowledge of what had happened on his face. He held out his hand and, with a sob, she grabbed hold of it and released the power into him.
A golde
n-rainbow light flared out around them and then a gorgeous black and brown wolf stood in front of her, a cheeky expression on his face. Bron bent over, took the big face in between her hands and kissed his snout. ‘Thanks, Patrick. Now scoot before Helen comes out and sees you. I can’t explain this to her yet.’
He licked her face and turned around, heading over to the door. She opened it for him and he took off. She didn’t stay to watch him go, but raced back to the workroom. She knelt down beside River and took the damp cloth from Helen’s hand.
‘Thanks Helen. You better get back to your client. I’ll take care of this now.’
Helen rose. ‘Let me know if you need anything else.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
Bron wiped the cloth over River’s face, careful not to touch him, pleading with the Goddess that he would be all right. His skin was so hot she could feel it warming the cloth. She rinsed it out again and returned to running it over his face, over the lumps of his scars—those vivid red ropes against stark white that twisted across his cheek and up into his hair. ‘How can I help him when I can’t even heal his scars?’
‘His scars are much deeper than this,’ a voice whispered in her mind. ‘First you have to heal his soul.’
Before she had a chance to question further, the front door crashed open, the bell jingling wildly, then Iain raced into the room.
‘Should we take him back to the packhouse?’
Bron shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want him jostled by a car ride. Just take him upstairs to my office. I can take care of him there.’
Nodding, he lifted him carefully, carrying him out of the room towards the stairs.
Chapter 12
River smiled as the dream whispered into his consciousness. Moondust. Skye was calling to it. She was playing their game—she made him change and he’d pop back, dancing around, daring her to try to hit him with it again. He liked dreaming about turning into his wolf.
Moon Bound Page 15