A Wolf's Desire (Wolf Mountain Peak Book 2)

by Sarah J. Stone

  “Yeah?” Monica raised an eyebrow.

  “Well, this time, I did none of those things.” Kate’s tone of voice became firm as she leaned towards Monica. “Honestly? I acted like a schoolgirl. I let him do all the work. I said his name once, and that was it. I surrendered to him. God, it was so good… I wanted him so bad that I didn’t even let him go down on me.”

  “You?” Monica used her index finger to point at her. “You didn’t…?”

  “Damn it, Mon, why is it so hard for you to believe?” Frustration was lingering in Kate’s voice. “I said I didn’t!”

  “How’s that even possible?” Monica inquired, raising both palms up at the same time.

  “Two reasons,” Kate sighed, running her gaze down her friend’s face. “One: I told him about my past. I was vulnerable. Two: On some level, I thought he’d think less of me, if I talked dirty or took the initiative.”

  “Kate…” Monica’s voice picked up volume, her eyes opening wide, as she placed both hands down on the table. “Are you in love with him?”

  “Don’t be stupid, Dr. Stiff.” Kate rejected that notion, waving her hand in front of her face. “It’s a little too soon. I’m not jealous of you anymore, though. All this time, you’ve been like: ‘Raul this’, ‘Raul that.’ Dean might not be a painter, but he’s been amazing to me.”

  “Then I’m happy for you,” Monica claimed, as her face creased into a sweet smile. “You fully deserve it. Shoot!” She hissed through gritted teeth, squeezing her eyes shut. “I forgot to ask you about Helena. What did she say?”

  “Not much,” Kate lightly shook her head sideways. “She’ll have to do some digging on my family history. Has she ever kept anything from you or Raul?”

  “No, not really,” Monica responded, as her friend scratched her chin. “Why?”

  “It’s probably my imagination,” Kate uttered, as a smile of confusion spread across her face.

  “Kate, what is it?” Monica insisted.

  “She looked a little…” Kate paused, her voice riddled with tension, “spooked when I mentioned the name ‘McIntyre’, my mom’s maiden name.”

  “I wish I could help you more there.” Monica smiled. “Would you like me to talk to Raul? He might know more about it.”

  “No. Thanks for the pizza, Mon. Goodnight.” Kate winked at her, rising from her seat, as her friend’s question ran through her mind, over and over again. Despite her reaction, she caught herself believing that maybe she had answered it too soon, and for good reason. Kate had never fallen for anybody that quickly. Perhaps she was having feelings for Dean; she didn’t know. What she did know, was that the shape shifter had danced into her life, full of energy, passion, desire, and, most importantly, confidence. This was a quality that she valued, especially in men, one that she had failed to find in most. Dean Bradford might not have been a creative man like his brother, but he was oozing with confidence. Kate would like nothing more than to let him show if he could be the one she hoped he could be: the man who could make her want to love again…

  Chapter Twelve

  A tickling sensation teased Dean, waking him up from his deep sleep. Strands of Kate’s hair were brushing across his cheeks, just before her sweet kiss brought a smile to his face. Slowly, he opened his blurry eyes. She was barely an inch away from him. Her hair was a little messier than usual, but still, she was a sight for sore eyes. Fear and worry had vanished completely. Calmness and hope were in their stead. The smile that lit up her face sent warmth to his heart. The pale, first light of dawn was coming through his window, as he parted his lips.

  “Good morning,” Dean uttered, his voice raspy. “I should have stayed in New York last night.”

  “Good morning to you, too,” Kate whispered, lightly kissing the dimple on his chin. “Why?”

  “Because, then I’d have the chance to wake up to your face again,” He said, his baritone lowering, as he lazily reached both hands up. “It’s just so beautiful.”

  “Dean…” she snorted, as her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Please, don’t talk like that, or we’re going to be stuck here for hours.”

  Dean’s instinctive thought was to claim her once more. Her attempt to prevent him from touching her only fueled his desire. However, before he could even touch her, he caught a glimpse of her shirt. Apparently, Kate had been up, long before him.

  “Isn’t it a little too early to be dressed?” He squinted up at her.

  “Actually, it’s a little too early for almost everything,” she declared, laying a quick kiss on his mouth. His gaze followed her, as she rolled out of bed. Dean had loved her little surprise, but he was somewhat confused. What had she been meaning to tell him? Standing up, Kate looked out his window. The twilight colors were high in the clear sky. Soft washes of stark purple, with subtle hints of lavender and orange, along with a few stripes of scarlet, permeated by a dark-blue that unified them all. “Except that,” she pointed up ahead. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “The sun does tend to rise in New York, too.” Dean’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, as he leaned up and back against his shoulders.

  “Why don’t you meet me on the roof?” Kate suggested, glancing down on him over her shoulder. “You’ll see what I’m talking about.”

  “What a crappy time for a joke. You have to pick the moment better,” he thought to himself, as she strolled out of his bedroom. Still too drowsy to start guessing what she meant, Dean got out of bed. At the same time, he couldn’t deny that waking up to her face was absolutely fantastic, much more enjoyable than he could have ever imagined. After hurriedly clothing himself, he started up the stairs that led to the roof of his cabin, his heartbeat escalating at the thought of one more romantic moment with her. A cool, gentle breeze blew through his hair, as he stepped outside. Hundreds upon hundreds of trees stretched out before him. Thick clumps of bushes were scattered between them. Kate was in the upper right corner, leaning her forearms against the wall in front of her, with her back turned to him.

  “Look around you, Dean.” She urged, gazing out at the horizon. “What do you hear?”

  Dean didn’t need much time to reply to that. The creatures of the night had retired, and the creatures of the day were still fast asleep. All he could hear, was the faint chirping of birds in the distance.

  “Hardly anything,” he said, as his heavy footfalls brought him closer to her.

  “Exactly!” She exclaimed, turning around to face him. “You’ve been to New York. It’s never this quiet. Even at 6am, it’s too noisy for anyone to enjoy this. Plus, the landscape is nothing compared to this.”

  The first, pink sunbeam broke over the horizon, and streaked across the sky, bringing out the blonde in her hair, making it shine, as he reached forward. Pushing a few strands back from her face, he bent his head down.

  “I’m sorry,” Dean whispered, as her eyes widened slightly. “I was a little too sleepy to get it. I’ve never woken up in New York; I have no idea what that’s like.”

  “That can be arranged,” Kate breathed, as he pulled her face closer. One more sunbeam lit up the world around them, as their lips met. He held her close, taking her into his embrace, as he savored her sweet kiss, deep down hoping that this would not be the only sunrise they would watch together. Kate curled her arms around his waist, rubbing herself tenderly against his body, as he slid his left hand down her face. Caressing her neck, Dean pressed his forehead against hers, and opened his eyes.

  “That’s a great way to start the day,” he whispered, as a powerful gust of wind tossed her hair about.

  “I’m really sorry,” her voice came out somewhat louder and sweeter. “The sunrise’s not the only reason I woke you up. I have a rehearsal scheduled at 9am.”

  “Oh, crap,” a sigh of frustration escaped him, as he tore his gaze from her. “I was hoping we could spend the day together.”

  “I’ll come back tonight,” she whispered, intensifying her
stare. “I promise.”

  “No, don’t,” he murmured, returning his attention to her. “You get off pretty late. You’ll be tired; don’t drive through the night.”

  “Damn distance…” Kate groaned, as her mouth tightened.

  “Could you do me a favor, before we leave?” Dean requested, his voice mellow.

  “Yeah?”

  “Sing for me,” he whispered, putting a smile on her face. “Be my Siren again.”

  “Ok,” She said with a slow nod. Kate closed her eyes, and drew in a sharp breath, readying herself for one more, sensual performance…

  “How can you see into my eyes, like open doors

  Leading you down into my core

  Where I’ve become so numb

  Without a soul

  My spirit’s sleeping somewhere cold

  Until you find it there and lead it back… Home”

  “Amazing,” Dean smiled, as she opened her eyes. “Now, let’s get you back to the city.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  By thenBy this – albeit short – time, driving back and forth to New York was starting to become a healthy habit. It had to; otherwise, having a relationship with Kate was going to be impossible. If Dean treated the trip like a nuisance, the relationship was going to be over before it began.

  Once again, her short display of talent at his cabin, had mesmerized him. Still, something else about the short verse had an even more profound effect on him: the somber, brooding melody. There was no happiness or lightheartedness in the lyrics. The song sounded more like a lament than a happy tune. This was one of the – very many – instances that Dean wished he had a wider musical education. Then, perhaps, he would have a clue of what she had just sung to him. Unfortunately though, this was not the case. His ignorance quite literally hurt him. He would love to discuss it, but, just minutes after they had driven off, Kate fell asleep in the passenger seat. Dean would not disrupt that peace on her face, even though his curiosity was gnawing away at him.

  After dropping her off though, he wasted no time in searching for those lyrics on Google. The song was old and very famous indeed. It was Evanescence’s “Bring Me to Life.” He was not going to go back to Paxton, until he had read the lyrics. Word after word, line after line, they rocked him to his very core. It spoke about a woman, asking for a man to save her from the misery of her past. There was a resemblance between her and Kate, one that he could not ignore. It was the same resemblance that convinced him she was actually addressing him that morning. No, Kate hadn’t said so, but why else had she chosen that song? In any case, Dean left the Big Apple behind him that day, determined to stay true to his word.

  Turning left and onto the road to Paxton, he checked the time on the dashboard. It was almost noon. His brothers would not hesitate to scold him. More than likely, he would argue with Ray. As he thought of his situation, however, he noticed something the shade of red in his rearview mirror, just behind his tailgate. It was a small whirlwind, but was growing larger, as his truck rolled down the road. Before making a left-hand turn, it moved around the vehicle, and then headed for the hillside. Intrigued, Dean slowly put on the brakes, and watched, as it went further. Finally, the whirlwind darkened, and stopped outside a clear patch of rock. Curiosity turned into worry; he could suspect who was summoning him. Turning right, he left the road. The suspension of his truck squeaked and creaked, as it lumbered along. His body rocked on the bumpy surface, as he closed in on the whirlwind. By the time he reached the bare rock, he could feel his heart racing in his chest. The whirlwind vanished in the blink of an eye, as he stormed out of his truck. The ground rumbled, as a wide gate began to open upward. Right behind it stood Melissa’s familiar, feminine figure.

  “Welcome over, Dean.” She spoke, as he barged in.

  “I’m starting to wonder what the witch looks like in broad daylight,” he grumbled, finding himself in a wide corridor, with torches in silver cups, scattered on either side of it. It was his grandfather’s sanctuary, the place where Helena had essentially revealed herself to him and his siblings. “What’s the big emergency?”

  “It’s a long story, really,” Melissa said, her voice coming out hesitantly, as they walked alongside each other. “I should let her explain things to you.”

  “Whatever it is, she’s really got me curious,” he confessed, as they neared the open door of the hall. “I mean, she could have waited until tonight.”

  “I beg to differ, second son,” Helena’s voice echoed back at the walls of the corridor, sending slivers of fear slicing through him. Dean felt a cold sweat wash over him, as he walked through the door. Raul and Ray were there, just beside the library, to the left, while Helena herself was almost in the center of the room, with a look of deep worry painted all over her face. “As for your other question, I do not look bad in daylight. It’s just that my skin is not very fond of it.”

  “What’s the meaning of his, Helena?” He asked, putting his hands on his waist, as Melissa closed the door behind her.

  “Come, Dean,” she urged, waving him to her. “There is much you need to know.”

  Following the witch, he spotted Khalista’s book of prophecies on her desk. What was this really about? Was his fate described in there? No. That could not be it. Helena would have talked to him about it. He sat down on the chair on her left, as she moved around her desk. Helena leaned over the book, and then turned it around for him to see.

  “Read, please.” She requested, her eyes locked on his. The page on the left did not contain much. It was titled:

  “The names of the oldest and strongest witch families in the world”

  Arrington

  Bethels

  Bridges

  Cole

  Dube

  Gibb

  Hallstead

  McIntyre

  Patrick

  Wheatley

  “McIntyre?” Dean whispered, as his gaze shot up to meet Helena’s.

  “I remembered Khalista’s book, as soon as I read Kate’s maiden name,” she sighed, nodding at the same time. “I just didn’t want to bring it up, until I did some more research. Her family was one of the most prominent families in England. Kate was born from a witch bloodline, one of the highest among the witches. The McIntyre’s came to the US to escape the witch persecution in Europe, some two hundred years ago. I am deeply concerned by the unawareness of her heritage, Dean. Kate is twenty-seven years old. She should have suspected something at least, but she hasn’t, which means that someone has cast a memory spell upon her. Whoever it is, they are still alive. Monica told me her parents were dead. Who else could it be?”

  “I don’t know. You still haven’t answered my question,” he complained, impatiently tapping his fingers on the desk.

  “I was able to break the spell that wouldn’t allow me to look into her future.” Helena announced, reaching into her inside pocket. “Here. See for yourself why I couldn’t wait until tonight.” She added, setting her crystal ball onto the table. It started to spin, sparkling with a soft, dark-grey color, as she banged her staff onto the hardwood floor. It brought a view of a poorly-lit alley. Shivers went down Dean’s spine, as he saw Kate, all alone. Two men were standing just a few feet away from her, pointing guns at her. She handed over her purse to one of them, but, before she could flee, the other one pulled the trigger. Kate’s body was thrown back, as the bullet penetrated her chest. A pool of blood quickly spread all over her chest, staining her white shirt. The two muggers ran off, as she struggled to catch her breath. She coughed up blood, as the light from her eyes was snuffed out. Her right index finger twitched once, as she stared into the void.

  “You know what to do; although I don’t entirely agree with it.” Helena’s last sentence puzzled him even further. Did she not want him to protect Kate?

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” His voice picked up volume, as he raised his eyes to glare at her.

  “Kate’s family was famou
s for controlling the elements,” she explained, assuming a businesslike tone. “Earth, water, fire… Her great grandmother was responsible for a flood in Canton, a small village outside Manchester. Dean…” she took a deep breath. “She may not be aware of her abilities yet, but, once they are activated, they will be far greater than mine, and very difficult to control, even with my help. Kate Brooks will grow into a tremendously powerful witch, in a very short amount of time.”

  “So I should just let her die before that?” He roared in rage, jumping from his seat, as Melissa strode across the hall.

  “That’s not going to happen!” She cried, her voice filled with tension.

  “No; no way,” Raul interjected. “I don’t care what she is. She’s my mate’s best friend.”

  “Forget about it, Helena,” Dean growled, his chest rising up and down. “Thanks for letting me know. Raul…” he continued, looking up at his brother over his left shoulder: “Thank you for the offer, but I got this.”

  “Oh, no, no, no, no, no,” Melissa voiced her objection, as she wore a smirk. “You’re not going anywhere all by yourself, big boy. You might as well face it. I’m coming with.”

  “Ok,” Dean gave a satisfied nod. He wouldn’t bother with Ray’s silence. If anything, he liked it that his younger brother had kept his mouth shut. Once again, he had to go back to New York. This time, however, he had a much more important task than lifting up his girlfriend’s spirits. He would deal with Helena’s fear later. Right now, Kate’s life was in danger…

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Good spirits.”

  A concept so common to most people had been evading Kate for years. Monica and Julia had managed to cheer her up many times in the past, but only for a short while. She needed balance in her personal life, and now, she had it. The fact, that Dean lived more than two hours away from her, didn’t matter. His presence gave her a reason to smile. Having a strong, soft-spoken man like him as her boyfriend was simply wonderful. The heat and the traffic of the big city didn’t bother her as much as they used to. Thinking about him made them both feel tolerable. In fact, Kate was feeling so well that she decided not to drive to work that night. Instead, she chose to walk. Why not? It was only twelve blocks away from her apartment building, and an evening stroll in Manhattan would give her a chance for some – always appealing – window shopping. She would also avoid driving around the parking lot, searching for a parking spot. More than that, Kate was free to enter the bar through the back door, and have a chat with the waitresses, prior to her performance.