War of Hearts

by S. Young

  Conall’s lips twitched, his pale grey eyes dancing.

  “What?” she huffed.

  He shook his head, looking far too pleased. “Nothing.”

  It was probably a good thing everyone started to get off the bus before Thea could punch him in the nuts. They were supposed to be allies after all.

  Having grabbed a quick breakfast at a café near the bus station, Thea felt somewhat rested and fed. Conall had insisted on buying toiletries for them both so they could have a quick wash in a public restroom. Afterward he said they both needed a change of clothes.

  If he thought they had time to waste, Thea wasn’t going to argue with him. Used to traveling dirty sometimes, the smell of sweat and bus breath didn’t bother her too much, but it clearly bothered Conall. It was kind of cute, actually. If you could call anything related to Conall “cute.”

  Since she really was just following him around, she let Conall lead them to a pretty tree-lined street in the middle of the city that seemed to be the central shopping area. She insisted on him doing what he needed to do first and so she waited while he bought a pair of new jeans and a few T-shirts. The cold didn’t appear to bother him, and Thea suspected that the rumor werewolves ran at a higher temperature than humans was true.

  Paying closer attention to the shop assistants, Thea realized that while there was definitely wariness emanating from them as they watched or interacted with Conall, there was also a heavy fascination from both men and women. When he gave a pretty shop assistant a brief smile, Thea felt something twinge in her chest. The same something that had bothered her back on the bus with the flirty woman.

  She ignored the feeling because with it came with a vulnerability she feared.

  After Conall had what he needed (she’d wandered away when he started looking at boxer briefs), he stopped in a public restroom and changed into his new clothes. He’d packed the other new shirt and old clothes in his backpack. When he came out of the restroom, he didn’t seem surprised Thea was outside waiting for him. It relieved her to realize he trusted her word that she’d stay to see this through with Ashforth.

  Now it was time for her to buy a change of clothes. It was weird wandering around shops with Conall. One assistant had even mistaken him for Thea’s boyfriend.

  Confused by the messy emotions roiling inside her, Thea grew impatient as they searched for clothes. She had basic requirements—jeans for bottoms and tops that covered her back. Somehow with Conall beside her, she couldn’t think, and the thirty minutes they’d been looking felt like hours.

  Finally, she grabbed a pair of jeans and a black, long-sleeved Henley to try on. Conall insisted she pick out more than one shirt.

  “I have a wardrobe of clothes to return to. This is all you have.”

  “I don’t need you to buy me clothes.”

  “I can afford a couple of shirts.”

  Seeing his mulish expression, Thea picked up a silky black shirt for the warmer weather. Conall took it out of her hand, checked the size, and then exchanged it for the same shirt in forest green. She stared at him questioningly as she took it.

  Why did he have to make her feel like she was the only one in the room when he looked at her?

  He shrugged. “The color suits you.”

  Thea felt a flush beneath her skin and accepted the green shirt. On the way into the changing room, she spotted a green T-shirt with a V-neck and grabbed it too. He was buying.

  Her intention had been to get in and out of the changing rooms as fast as possible.

  However, sometimes she had an issue with jeans fitting because she was small in the waist and legs but fuller around the ass area. The jeans she’d selected didn’t fit well.

  “How’s it coming along?”

  She jumped at the sound of Conall’s voice beyond the curtain.

  “Uh … the jeans don’t fit.”

  “Right …” His footsteps faded and Thea peeked around the curtain to see Conall had flagged down a store assistant and was bringing her to the changing cubicle. Thea closed her eyes in annoyance. She hated dealing with people and would rather figure shit out on her own.

  “How can I help?” the German shop assistant asked in perfect English.

  Thea shot Conall a look of irritation that seemed to fly straight over his head and then pushed back the curtain. Making sure her shirt was covering her back, she indicated the massive gap between her back and the waistband of the jeans.

  “They fit everywhere but the waist.”

  “Ah, yes, I see. These are the wrong jeans for your body shape. Your size? I’ll bring you the correct jeans.”

  Thea glanced up at Conall whose eyes were currently glued to her ass in a way that left no doubt in her mind he was imagining her naked. When he dragged his gaze back up to her face, she raised her eyebrow at him. Instead of looking away, embarrassed for being caught like most guys would, he stared at her wolfishly.

  Wolfishly.

  Heat pooled in Thea’s belly and she snapped the curtain shut on his face, pressing her hands to her burning cheeks.

  The next few days were going to be the longest of her life.

  After a few tries, they found a pair of jeans that worked. The assistant, a born saleswoman, brought more shirts for Thea to try that she had no intention of buying. Thea handed a few shirts and jeans to Conall to go purchase while she changed. “I’ll meet you outside.”

  He walked away, seeming lost in his thoughts, and Thea was left with the shop assistant.

  “You must try this shirt,” the girl said, holding up a red silk blouse.

  The shirt was gorgeous, but Thea would never wear such a bold color. It was like painting a target on her. But seeing the determination on the girl’s face and realizing it would be quicker to indulge her, she nodded and closed the curtain.

  Once it was on, she stared at the way the color brought out the warmer tones in her dark hair. Her brown eyes looked warmer too, like mahogany. It was the kind of shirt a woman would pair with nice jeans and heels, some jewelry maybe. Hair styled. Makeup on.

  It was a shirt that belonged to a woman with a different life.

  She pulled the shirt off.

  “Is everything okay?” the store assistant asked.

  Thea assumed she was talking to her and opened her mouth to reply when the curtain pulled back and Conall stepped in, crowding her in the tiny space.

  “Sir, you can’t go in there,” the shop assistant reprimanded.

  Conall ignored the girl, his whole body taut with tension as his attention zeroed in on Thea’s breasts. They were hard to miss considering all she wore was a black bra and jeans.

  “Conall,” she snapped, refusing to cover herself like an outraged prudish miss but pissed at him for barging in.

  He reached past her, brushing against her body in a way that made her flush. Whatever he was feeling he hid it as he pulled her own shirt down over her head. Thea pushed her arms through it, confused by his actions, and even more so when he deliberately drew his fingertips along her bare waist in a gentle caress, before releasing her.

  “We’ve got company.”

  Understanding dawned.

  Thea nodded and bent over to pull on her socks and boots. She quickly packed the bag with her new clothes into her rucksack and then Conall grabbed hold of her hand.

  She was too stunned by the action to react.

  He led her out of the changing room and Thea shot the frowning assistant a tight smile. “Thanks.”

  Conall’s long legs ate up the floor as he hurried them across the store, his grip on Thea’s hand unrelenting.

  Despite their current danger and her lack of information on exactly who had found them, Thea stared at where her hand was wrapped in his, trying to remember the last time someone had held her like this because they cared.

  She flexed her hand, an involuntary reaction and his squeezed hers like he was reassuring her.

  Conall glanced over his shoulder as they reached the shop exit. “Wolves. Two
of them. They’re across the street, watching this shop. We need to lose them in the crowd.”

  She tugged on his hold. “How, Conall? How did they find us?”

  He shook his head, scowling. “There’s no way to track—” He bit out a curse and dropped her hand to pull the cell phone out of his back pocket. “The same man who brought the car, brought the phone. They werenae tracking the vehicle.”

  “They were tracking the phone,” Thea surmised.

  Shit.

  Conall dropped the cell at his feet and crushed it into smithereens with a casual stomp of his boot. Then he grabbed Thea’s hand again, his expression fierce. “These wolves arenae armed, which means they came to fight me. We’re going to lead them somewhere no one can get hurt, and that includes you.”

  She frowned. “I can fight.”

  He smirked humorlessly. “I’m aware. But this is my kind of fight and I’m not letting them anywhere near you. I dinnae know if a wolf bite can harm you, but it can kill or turn a human. We’re not taking the risk.”

  Thea wanted to argue but Conall was already pulling her out of the store.

  And then they were running.

  She tightened her hand in his as they ran as fast as they could without drawing even more unwanted attention. The burning tingle of warning fizzled uncomfortably down Thea’s neck and she knew the wolves were giving chase.

  Most shoppers jumped out of their way as they hurried down the tree-lined streets. Conall raced across intersection after intersection, causing car horns to beep and pedestrians to shout at them in aggravated German.

  Finally, after a mile of running in a straight line, Conall turned left down a random street, his eyes on the doorways to their left. Around the midway point, he dove into an open doorway, pulling her through a windowless, empty lobby. They jumped a pile of filled trash bags and Conall burst through the door at the other end. Abruptly they found themselves in the shadowed courtyard of the commercial buildings surrounding them.

  He pushed Thea into the farthest corner, and she looked up to note that anyone could witness what was about to happen from the windows above. But better here where no one else could get hurt, she supposed.

  “I can fight,” she insisted again as Conall dropped his pack and gave her his back, guarding her.

  “I told you, Thea”—he shrugged out of his clothes—“this fight is mine. They touch you, they die.”

  Thea barely heard his words—she was too busy watching the reveal of his naked body in awe. Somehow without clothes he seemed even bigger. His broad shoulders and back were powerful in muscle and width. He threw his shirt on top of his backpack, still facing the doorway, and then kicked off his boots and worked the belt on his jeans.

  She braced herself, feeling a flush high on her cheeks as he pushed down his underwear and jeans, kicked them off, and straightened to his full height. She shouldn’t look. Shouldn’t ogle.

  But Jesus Christ, he was magnificent.

  His ass was round and taut with muscle, his thighs thick, his calves the same. He was like one of those Roman statues of male perfection. That feeling of primal female want and need that was becoming too familiar flooded deep in her belly.

  Conall glanced over his shoulder at her, his nostrils flaring. She could only stare, stunned by her own reaction to him.

  “Ceannsaichidh an Fhìrinn,” his voice rumbled over the foreign words.

  Before she could ask what they meant, he curled his hands into fists and Thea felt the energy around him amplify. All the hairs on her body rose as she witnessed Conall transform. First his claws sprang free, long and sharp and deadly, his jaw elongated, and sharp teeth filled his mouth. Thick black fur pushed through his skin at the same time she heard the first snap of bone.

  She winced, thinking it sounded painful, but Conall’s groan suggested otherwise. The grunts and moans he made were like ones of pleasure as he dropped to his fours. His limbs cracked and changed.

  The appearance of their two hunters in the doorway drew her attention from the Scot and Thea braced to fight, to protect Conall while he was in the middle of shifting. But the wolves immediately tore off their own clothes.

  Conall was right.

  These two weren’t armed.

  They’d come to fight the honorable way.

  But there was two against Conall.

  Worry tightened her gut, a concern that gave way to awe as she watched Conall’s transformation complete. Where once was a man was now a massive wolf, twice the size of an ordinary wolf.

  He huffed through his snout and bared his teeth at the new arrivals, waiting for them to shift before he pounced.

  Another wolf wouldn’t have been so courteous, especially when it was two against one.

  Thea stepped forward and the black wolf whipped his head toward her, Conall’s pale gray eyes glaring at her. He snarled and she knew it was a warning to stay back.

  Annoyed but daring to trust him, Thea retreated and he bobbed his head, which she took for appreciation. He turned his attention to the wolves, who had almost completed their transformation.

  They were smaller than Conall, Thea realized. One pure gray, the other gray and brown.

  She had to hope they were weaker too.

  Her heart jumped in her throat as they suddenly flew at the Scot. His growl was deep and terrifying as he lunged, soaring over the two of them, landing on his front paws, only to twist in a blur of movement, his teeth coming down on the flank of the gray-brown wolf.

  Tense with determination to jump in if he needed her, Thea watched, balanced on the tips of her toes, ready to join the fray, as Conall fought off the wolves. She winced when their teeth met his fur and inwardly whooped when he got in a hit.

  They tried to circle him, but his size and reflexes made it impossible. Conall bit and clawed, getting in more hits to the two than they managed between them.

  Then finally with one impatient swipe of a giant paw, he ripped open the gray wolf’s belly. The wolf whimpered, crumpling to the ground, his whines hard to listen to without feeling an echo of sympathy despite his enemy status. Conall turned on the gray-brown wolf, pinning him to the courtyard floor with his huge clawed paw. He bared his teeth, his wolf lips vibrating as he communicated something to his challenger.

  Whatever it was, slowly, the gray-brown wolf turned, showing Conall his belly.

  Submitting.

  Thea relaxed marginally.

  Letting him go, Wolf Conall padded around the smaller wolf, his big, muscular body bristling as he pinned Thea in place with his eyes. It was hard to look away as he moved toward her, expression predatory, his huge body rippling with power. He was the most majestic thing Thea had ever seen.

  But the flicker of movement behind him drew her attention. The gray-brown wolf rose, his sharp teeth bared.

  “Conall!” she warned.

  With a growl of animal outrage, Conall spun just as the wolf lunged, using his body weight to pin Conall to the ground. His dominance lasted a mere second before Conall reversed their positions, clamped his jaw around the wolf’s throat and ripped it out.

  The wounded wolf behind them whined even louder in obvious grief.

  Thea’s sympathy, however, died. Conall had been walking away, letting them both live, but the gray-brown wolf had acted dishonorably.

  Wolf Conall made a guttural sound of annoyance and then padded toward Thea, his muzzle now wet with blood. She stood still with wonder, waiting for him to stop and shift, but he came right up to her.

  A normal wolf, standing on all four paws, would have come to Thea’s waist. Conall’s head stopped at chest height. His black fur shimmered in the shadows, looking as soft as velvet, and Thea had the unstoppable urge to touch it. Tentatively reaching out, she waited for a sign that Wolf Conall was against being touched. He didn’t give one and so Thea rested her palm gently against the top of his head.

  He made a chuffing noise, like he was pleased, and Thea grinned. Growing bolder, she began to pet him. He was soft
as velvet. And he liked to be petted. If he’d been a cat, he would be purring. “You’re beautiful,” she whispered.

  She’d seen werewolves in their wolf state before. They’d guarded Ashforth’s grounds in wolf form during the full moon. But none had been as magnificent as Conall. He really was king of the werewolves.

  At her compliment, Wolf Conall turned the side of his face that didn’t have blood on it into her breasts and nuzzled them lovingly. She laughed and pushed his face away. “Opportunist.”

  The sound he made was like a wolf version of laughter, and she knew without a doubt as he shot her an amused look far more human than animal that Conall never lost who he was when he shifted. She’d always wondered about that, whether a werewolf held onto their human consciousness when they turned.

  So caught in the moment, she’d forgotten about the other wolves. But she realized as Conall padded away from her, the energy around him becoming static, that the gray wolf had stopped whimpering. His pelt still rose and fell with deep breaths—he was still alive.

  Conall shifted. She knew it was wrong to watch but found herself unable to look anywhere else. First his fur began to shrink, disappearing into golden skin, and then the cracking of bone sounded as his forelegs became arms. He settled onto his hind legs as the transformation moved through his body, until Conall emerged, standing, his skin flushed. He faced her, chest heaving with exertion, and she got a second look at his ripped abdomen before her attention was inevitably drawn downward.

  A blush crested high on her cheeks.

  Conall was aroused.

  Impressively, impressively so.

  Her eyes flew to his, and he gave her an unembarrassed shrug. “Pay no attention. Just a side effect of adrenaline after a fight.”

  Thea nodded, trying to appear nonchalant. “Well, I learn something new every day.”

  He shot her a dry look and pulled on his clothes, turning to do so, giving her the backside view instead.

  She wasn’t disappointed by that at all.

  The air across the courtyard changed, drawing their attention, and the gray wolf slowly transformed into a man. His groans were not ones of pleasure but of pain. He sat back, naked on his haunches, his belly wound raw and red but closed. Thea remembered Conall said werewolves healed faster in wolf form.