Brilliant Heart (Dark Wing Series Book 2)

by Ellie Pond

  “Exactly. We’ve talked, Phillip. I have nothing left to say.” Elizabeth walked around him towards the entrance to customs.

  “No, we haven’t.” Phillip grabbed her arm and Elizabeth stumbled backwards.

  Tad took a deep breath. They all glared at where Phillip’s hand encircled Elizabeth’s arm. Tad stared at him, and Phillip released her. Smart human, Tad thought.

  “Bethie, that dragon is controlling you. I talked to the head of shifter research at the university. He offered you a job six months ago and you haven’t replied. That’s your dream job, the one you wanted before this stupid ship.”

  “Do you have anything you want to say to this man, Dr. Cottage?” Tad never removed his eyes from Phillip. Eighty-four degrees and the man wore boots and jeans, his hair pulled back into a man bun.

  “No,” Elizabeth said.

  “You don’t speak for her, you animal. She likes your kind, but that means nothing.”

  “What the Fudgsicles did you just say? I like his kind? What does that mean, Phillip?” Elizabeth whipped around. But she wasn’t the only one. At least a half-dozen shifters’ heads snapped towards Phillip, one of whom was Tad’s cousin, Gunnar, with Michele from their dinner table next to him. He was by Tad’s side before Elizabeth finished speaking.

  Tad counted. He couldn’t say anything. He was too busy keeping his wolf from jumping out of his skin and taking Phillip’s vocal cords from his neck. His wolf’s eyes glowed. The vibrations of the growl from his gut resonated. Never had words made him this close to ripping out of his skin. His wolf demanded to not be denied this prey. He focused every ounce of energy to stay in control. Fur is your skin too, his wolf howled at him and fought him for dominance. Sweat poured out of him as his internal war raged.

  “Hey, cuz,” Gunnar said, drawing him a little back to himself. “Any way I can help?”

  “We were just leaving. Time to get on the ship,” Elizabeth said, touching his arm, and she entered customs, Tad floating up after her. His wolf wanted to stay close to his mate.

  “This isn’t over.” Phillip stomped after them.

  “Michele, can you go with the doc and Tad? I think you and I will stay here for a little,” Gunnar said to Phillip. A few of the other shifters were still standing around the two of them and Michele appeared at his side. His wolf was only starting to settle down. That was the actual problem of not letting your wolf out. When he came out, he had a habit of not letting go and not understanding Tad’s human side.

  Tad shook his head.

  “Fudgsicles?” Michele asked Elizabeth. “You really told him.”

  Elizabeth shrugged. His mate was too cute.

  Tad growled again, but this time at Michele. His mate had done an outstanding job of standing up for herself. Better than he had. If it hadn’t had been for Gunnar, he would probably be a murderer now. His wolf pushed again. Mate. He glanced down at Elizabeth—angry little red circles peppered her arm. He growled.

  “I’ll see you around.” Michele left them as soon as they boarded.

  “Let’s get you some rest.” Elizabeth guided him to her cabin.

  Tad didn’t remember how he got to Elizabeth’s cabin. A ray of light peeked out from under the blind across the small porthole. His pulse raced. He blinked his eyes clear. Elizabeth leaned on the desk. His eyes adjusted to the dim light.

  “Are you okay?’ she asked. “Do you want to lie down and rest awhile?”

  “Lie down, yes. Rest, no.” The grogginess from fighting for control of his wolf was lifting. His wolf pushed at his mate.

  Elizabeth tackled him before he stepped towards her, her lips on his with force. He tilted her head, their tongues colliding. Delicious. Tad’s wolf rumbled with agreement. With a tug, he brought down her green dress strap over her shoulder. She complied by releasing him and stepping back, her dress puddling on the floor. With a twist, her bra fell on top of her dress. His hand grabbed her buttocks. He squeezed, and she moaned into his ear. Her legs circled his hips. Her body rode his cock that bulged through his pants.

  Laying her on the twin bed, he peppered kisses from her neck to her breasts. He sucked her nipple into his mouth and pinched the other one. His thumbs hooked under the thin strap of her panties, and he pulled them slowly down the bed. He shucked his shoes and shirt and hovered over Elizabeth. His eyes roved over her. She lay panting on the bed, goose bumps rupturing on her delicate skin as he watched her. She yanked at his arms but he didn’t give in. Watching her writhe for him sent fire through his veins.

  “Tad. Now. Touch me.”

  Her greedy tone made him even harder. His kisses landed on her belly and trailed down, each caress tender as he reached her clit. He lapped at her core. His hands gripped her thighs, pulling her legs farther apart. He thrust a finger between her lips as he sucked at her clit.

  She arched her back from the bed, her knees clamping against his shoulders.

  Making his mate come was better than sex for him. But instead of being relaxed, his wolf pulsed on the edge. Mate. He needed to be complete with her. Be fully mated. His wolf screamed at him. And unlike the last time, he couldn’t contain himself. His wolf wanted control. Tad didn’t trust that he wouldn’t sink his cock into her and make their pairing forever. He jumped from the bed. Elizabeth said she wanted to try, and mating her wasn’t trying—it was forever.

  “Tad?” Elizabeth sat up on her elbows, the content look on her face gone in an instant.

  He looked away from her. He needed to run. The closet-like room pushed in. He drew a breath in, but it wasn’t enough, not after what had happened with the witch this morning. Ash clogged his lungs. His wolf pushed again. Mate.

  “Tad. It’s okay. Come back here. We can stop. Come here; be with me.”

  Tad spun his head around. His mate lay in the bed naked and he was running away. Mate. He had said those words before and they usually led to more than nothing. Mate.

  “Your eyes are glowing with your wolf.”

  He glared at her, and his wolf jumped at his skin. His jaw clamped tight. The wolf was his to control.

  “You’re hurting yourself—you need to let your wolf out.” Her eyes were soft, but her words infuriated him.

  “I can control it.”

  “No, you can’t.” She reached for him.

  “This is who I am. No, I don’t mix well with my wolf. I like how I am, and if I’m not shifter enough for you, then this trial is over.” Fuck. He couldn’t breathe. His head swirled. Fur bristled at the edge of his consciousness. No. He would not shift.

  “I didn’t say you’re not shifter enough . . .”

  “Didn’t you? You said I can’t control my wolf, like there’s some disconnect between us.” But there was a disconnect, he knew that. Between his wolf and his magic and his brain, he always chose his brain. “You thought I wouldn’t be able to control it around your ex, didn’t you?”

  “You didn’t shift; you didn’t hurt anyone.”

  “But that’s the problem.”

  “Tad, what’re you getting at?”

  He stared at her. “I’m not getting at anything.” His head swirled with confusion.

  He pulled away, but she grabbed his hand, her hazel eyes dark blue in the dim evening light. “It’s okay.”

  No, it wasn’t okay; nothing was okay.

  “Thank you for the trial.” He was out the door with his pants still on, but his shirt on her cabin floor along with his book, backpack, and shoes. Thank you for the trial? He’d told her thank you—what the hell was wrong with him? He needed to find Gunnar, they needed to talk, and—he looked at his empty wrist—he needed to find a way to get into his cabin.

  23

  Wolf Enough

  After he left her cabin, she showered and put her leggings on backwards twice. The sun was beginning to set, and the first dinner service would be completed in ten minutes. Passengers would stream from the dining rooms around the ship to their evening activities, like ants heading for a picnic basket. Onl
y they were headed to a musical, movie, comedy show, or dance club. She wanted to get a quick stretch of her legs before she had to fight for space on deck.

  She scurried towards the bow of the ship as she picked up her pace around the aft. The captain’s private veranda overlooked the walking deck for only a few feet. She wondered if she should have taken a walk on the lower jogging deck instead. Her mind raced faster than her legs. On the third time around, she glanced up, and the dark piercing eyes she had been hoping to avoid peered down at her. If she stepped quicker, she would be hidden by the overhang and the walkway that passed under his cabins and the bridge.

  “Doctor. Did you enjoy your day off? I hope so. It’s nice to see you out of the belly of the beast.” He spoke as if she was right next to him. But she heard him clearly. “I would be honored if you would dine with my guests and me.”

  “What a kind gesture, but I’ve already dined,” Elizabeth yelled up to the captain, who turned around to someone behind him and asked him a question.

  “Engineering Officer Smithfield tells me that’s not true.”

  “Damn puma,” Elizabeth said under her breath but loud enough for the captain to hear her. “I’ll be right up.” She was going to talk to Anna about what side their family was on. She sighed and headed into the ship. She scanned her band to get clearance to the ship’s bridge deck. The door at the top of the stairs popped open.

  Elizabeth trudged into the captain’s front room that acted as his living room and office. The doors to the balcony were open. The sofas were pushed to the side of the room, and a long table ran down the middle of the room. Some guests still sat at the table, but, judging by the empty places, most had finished. They were milling about with drinks on the captain’s private deck. Still-filled carts of food were set up to the side as a buffet. The captain had these private dinners once or twice a cruise. She’d done hers for the month on the last cruise. Maybe she could get out of next month’s?

  Rebecca, the ship’s cruise director, hugged Elizabeth. The two of them had a standing breakfast date for every turnover day, mostly because Rebecca insisted she get out and see the sun. Her uniform was crisp, and her chestnut-colored hair lay perfectly flat, despite the humidity of the evening. Tall and lean, not an ounce of perspiration dotted her face, while Elizabeth’s hair stuck out of her bun at erratic angles and sweat rolled down her neck. She tugged at her locket. Usually she had time to prepare for these dinners. And was dressed appropriately.

  Edvard stood at the head of the table in animated conversation with another bridge officer. Edvard was human, but the captain had moved him up through the ranks quickly. He had the captain’s and the first officer’s respect. Something about the man didn’t sit right with her, but she couldn’t pinpoint what. Elizabeth didn’t know the officer Edvard was talking to—a hazard of staying in the belly of the ship and not being social. It didn’t bother her. But she did take a breath before entering the rest of the way into the room. She would have to steady her inner introvert, and knowing only three people in the room didn’t help.

  “Doctor, come meet our guests.” The captain put his arm around her shoulders and guided her onto the balcony. “Ladies and gentlemen and bears.” A gruff laugh came from the two barrel-chested men and their mates by the railing. Always a showman, their captain. “A superb last-minute surprise. Dessert, if you will. Our most esteemed doctor has agreed to join us for cocktails.”

  Elizabeth flashed him a look that she hoped read I’m not agreeing to any such thing. But he pressed forward.

  “The Dark Wing has only the best medical staff on board. Dr. Cottage has won three Golden Staffs for her work in shifter healing and is at the top of all the research hospitals’ and centers’ most-wanted lists. But she’s ours.”

  What the fudge was he spouting off? All the top research hospitals’ most-wanted lists? Sure, she had a standing offer in Virginia and it wouldn’t be hard to find a job in Durham near where Phillip lived. But it wasn’t like anyone was breaking down her door. That was odd. He hadn’t lied—she had won three Golden Staffs for her work in the understanding of shifter immunology. Phillip had pressured her to find another place to do her research. He said she was underpaid and undervalued. But she figured he said that to get her to leave the ship. And here she had the freedom to pursue her own research.

  She stood next to the captain, who introduced the family of bear shifters whose names she forgot before she left the balcony. He sauntered away to another group, one with several single women. Not surprisingly, the giggles coming from their direction sent irritation down her spine. She focused on the couples in front of her. It took her mind off everything she had been focusing on for the last few days: Phillip, research, Tad, and then Violet.

  She asked all the right questions of the couples. How did they like the weather? Lovely. Where were they from? Montana. What did they do? They raised cattle the old-fashioned way. And they told her all about the old-fashioned way. She steered them away from things about her. Was she married? Mated? And back to things about them. She nodded in the right places and took the gin and tonic that Edvard handed to her. And the refill that Rebecca handed to her. Because there was no way the two couples were letting her talk to anyone else or go anywhere.

  Finally—hallelujah—the captain rang a bell. He liked a definite end to his dinners.

  “Thank you for coming to my quarters. It was lovely that you joined me. I’m sure that you will enjoy your cruise.” He shook hands with all the guests as they filed out. He nodded to two other crew members as they left with the guests. Elizabeth tried to sneak out in between the couples. She almost did, hidden in the bear shifters’ immense size, but the captain called her back.

  “Sit.” He pointed to his leather sofa.

  With disdain, Elizabeth looked at the sofa. She didn’t have to imagine what happened on it.

  “Sit.” He pointed again, then said something both to Rebecca and Edvard as they left the room. She sat in the chair next to the sofa.

  “Well, that was quite the gathering you had. I’m sure you must be exhausted.” Elizabeth got up.

  “No, Dr. Cottage. You’re avoiding me. And it’s time to talk.”

  He wanted to talk. All right, then. “Let’s talk.”

  He still stood on the far side of the room.

  “You sit too.” She pointed.

  He smirked. “All right, Doctor.” He sat in the gold-crested chair across from hers. He crossed his leg over his knee. “You want to say something too.”

  “I do.” She leaned forward on her knees. “I’ve spent the last years of my life on this topic. I understand that I said I would try and tackle your topic too. I’m not sure it’s possible. Granted, I’ve been preoccupied the last few days . . . and I don’t want to change.”

  Fudge, no, fuck. Stephanie’s sample—she didn’t run it. It was over 24 hours old. Piece of crap, shit. She’d have a hole in her data set because she was too busy having a picnic. Her eyes glared at the captain. It didn’t matter if she ran the sample now, it would be too old. But Stephanie would have put today’s specimen in the fridge and would have seen yesterday’s. The female took her time out to participate in her study, trusting her that she was doing her best to find a cure, for her and for Joseph. And she was at a damn picnic.

  “I can’t change my topic.”

  The captain sauntered around his office. He made himself a drink from the bar cart and then pulled a tube from the shelf behind his desk. Was he even listening to her?

  “Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Doctor. I can see how feeling pressured to move away from a passion could cause a problem. So I will go at it from another direction.” He opened the tube , pulled out a large schematic of the ship, and unrolled it onto the coffee table. “I would have had you see these after this cruise. But it’s better now.”

  “What in the world do you want to show me, Captain? My research is everything to me. The lives of thousands of shifters every year could depend on
this. Not to mention the implications of what humans might be able to learn.”

  “I understand, Doctor. Take a glance. Understand that this is the first attempt. I will want your input on it.”

  Elizabeth looked at the plans. The third deck, her clinic, crew cabins, the base pits of the cage arena matches, the crew lounge, and the officers’ lounge.

  “I see it’s the layout for the third deck of Dark Wing.” She shrugged her shoulders.

  The captain flipped a page. This time, the cabins across from the clinic—including hers and most of the clinic staff’s—were gone. Replacing them on the sheet, the label read ‘Research facility.’ The plans showed a sterile room, a modeling lab . . . a state-of-the-art facility that would rival any. She examined the drawings.

  “I would think that you might want to make some changes. But that can be done.”

  She looked from the drawings to the captain and back to the drawings as if she was watching a tennis match.

  “Where are the clinic staff’s rooms?”

  “Moved to the aft fourth floor. We will lose some guest rooms. But . . .” He shrugged. She’d never seen him shrug before.

  Guest quarters? The thought of her staff having bigger rooms and portholes alone might be enough to sway her; she didn’t care, but they would be ecstatic. She looked at the diagram again. “There are multiple workstations here. While this much space would be nice, I don’t need that much room to work.”

  “Oh, but you won’t be working alone. Do you think you can split your time if I bring on three research assistants?”

  Her eyes went round.

  “I see the advice I was given about you was correct. I’ll have to listen more often.”

  “You listen?” Elizabeth said, still looking at the plans. Had she just said that? It must have been the gin and tonics. What the fudge? She couldn’t be bought. Could she?

  The captain pulled out a paper from the folder he had stashed under the tube. “Here is your budget for the year. And on the second page is the budget to equip the new space.”