by Kim Faulks
My steps were a blur as I headed for the door. I dragged claws over the handle and yanked the door inwards. The sting followed as my nails retracted, revealing human fingers once more.
Victor lifted his head at the sound. “Everything okay in there?”
I nodded, dragging the door closed behind me. “She’s okay. She’s okay.”
The words bounced around in my head, before I felt the tension release inside. I glanced to the rest of my family, sitting with their backs against the wall, waiting for me.
I let my knees buckle until my ass hit the tiled floor. I swallowed my breaths, clutching every cry tight.
“Who is she, Marcus?” I tore my gaze from the closed door. Xael watched me from the end of the hallway, arms crossed against her chest. “Who is she to you?”
“I don’t know.” The answer slipped free. “But I want to know.”
Xael’s gaze jerked toward the closed bedroom door. “She did this. The witch is the cause of this. She’s the one who sent you out in the middle of the night. She brought this wolf to our door.”
Her acid words burned, but I’d suffered worse before. “I was meant to find the wolf. I was meant to help her. To care for her.”
“Why, Marcus? Why care for someone after all these years?”
The words flowed like blood from an open wound, turning my voice husky and raw. “Because, living and existing are not the same. And I’m tired of just existing.”
“We may be shifters, but that’s all that marks you and her as the same, Marcus. Listen to me.” Xael’s hard voice softened. “I can smell the dirt and the pine on her skin a mile away. I can smell the hurt, the pain, and the fear. These people live like the beasts they are—we don’t. We don’t understand their rules or their way of life and we’re not meant to. What I’m saying is, maybe we should stay out of it and let the packs sort this out themselves?”
The hallway fell silent. I strained to hear.
The heavy beat of my heart drowned out the voices on the other side. Low growls slipped into cries. I slid my hand along the tiled floor. The pads of my fingers screeched against the smooth surface.
Not our war to fight.
If not us, then who?
I’m tired of feeling nothing. Don’t leave me now that I know you. Don’t leave me to carry this ache for the two of us.
The door was wrenched open and the old woman shuffled from the room.
“She’s ready now.” She lifted her head and cast her gaze up and down the hall, before turning to me again. Keeping her voice low, she warned. “Be gentle with her, she’s more fragile than she cares to admit.”
I lifted my head to find the curled form in my bed. The black sheet I cast aside now draped her body. Her torn singlet was nothing more than strips of cloth covering her breasts. I dragged one foot forward, then the other, closing the door behind me. There were no hard jagged breaths to fill my room, only the easy fill and flow of Abrial’s lungs. One breath and the weight lifted.
I hovered at the end of the bed, savoring every tiny detail. Her hair, her cheekbones, the soft fan of her lashes, memorizing these seconds as though they were my last on this earth. The thick fans fluttered open. The glint of emerald captured me and left me stranded.
“You,” she croaked. Her pink tongue slid out, wetting her lips, leaving a glistening trail under the bedroom lights.
“Me.” I tried to hide my concern behind a smile, but the expression felt as rusty as the gate out front.
“That’s twice you’ve saved me.”
My chest swelled, thudding, pulsing. I’d save this woman every day for the rest of my life. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I thought for a moment there I was too late.”
One slight shake of her head sent her hair cascading across the pillow. “No, you were just in time. Thank you.”
I searched her face, the swelling was gone, but there could be something else I wasn’t seeing. I had to know. “And you’re okay now?”
The spark seemed to dull in her eyes as she answered. “Yeah, I’ll live.”
“They were waiting for you, Abrial. They knew you’d come.”
Her eyes widened at the sound of her name. She wrenched her gaze from mine, searching the far wall of my bedroom. I took a step closer, demanding she look at me. “Why did you come back?”
She shoved the sheet from her body and worked her legs toward the edge, then over the side. She refused to look at me. Why would she refuse to look at me?
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
Her hand stilled, gripping the edge of the bed, still her lap was more important than my eyes. “I don’t want to involve you. It’s bad enough I need to turn to the humans for help.”
“Pack business, right?”
I caught the flinch a second before she answered. “Yeah, pack business.”
“Sounds like you need a new pack.” Her head snapped up and in those vibrant eyes there was a glimmer of fire. It was something, sending out a flare inside. “If you need anything, maybe I can help you.”
“Maddy had a baby… a girl.”
Her words were so fragile. If I looked away, if I moved, or spoke harshly, I’d ruin this moment forever. “That’s good news. She’s very lucky.”
She shook her head. “No, not lucky. None of us are lucky. They’ve left her out there. They’ve left her and her baby to die.”
I took the blow from her words to my chest and remained standing. “What did you say?”
“She’ll die. If not by exposure, then the Echo pack will come. No one survives, especially not on their own….”
The women.
Pack business.
I took the last step. “What kind of pack is this?”
“Every pack… it’s all we know.”
I want to make a new deal.
I licked my lips, hearing her words in my head. “So you need somewhere for Maddy and her baby to stay?”
“There are others.”
I nodded. “Go on.”
“There’s a lone wolf, Odessa… and….”
Me.
Say the word… please, just say the damn word. I’d move mountains. I’d lay waste to this entire town just to have you under my roof… eating my food, in my arms, or in my bed.
“We have others too old to walk, or hide. It’s just until we rest, then we’ll leave.”
“So you’d stay here too, then?”
She lifted her head and held my gaze. “If you want me to.”
“Yes.” I snapped, then softened my voice, trying hard to quell the thunder in my chest. “Yes, I want you to.”
There was nothing but silence as she searched my gaze. I wanted to show her. I wanted to touch her.
“Then, we have to go. I can’t let them down.”
She wobbled as she stood. I lunged, grabbing her around the waist. My fingers brushed the curve of her hip, finding warm skin. I couldn’t let her go. I wouldn’t let her go.
Her lips parted. The motion drew my focus. I lowered my head, capturing her breath before our lips touched. So tender, so warm… so alive. She tilted her head and arched her neck and waited.
The rim of her upper lip beckoned. I lowered my head to brush the swell of my mouth along the edge of her lip, and closed my eyes.
I hugged the contours of her mouth, kissing the corners. That cold, dead thing inside my chest took flight. My dragon came alive. I licked the inside of her lip, probing her mouth with my tongue, and felt her still.
The predator in me rose, ready for the hunt. My hunger burned deep, but I didn’t want pain or flesh. I inhaled the scent of the forest on her skin, and the salty remnants of her blood, and wanted more.
I wanted this woman… this wolf.
Her fingers trembled against my arm, sliding along my skin to grip my wrist. She held on as I trailed the sweet curve of her waist to flatten my palm against the small of her back. Her chest collided with mine and my body surged, hardening and swelling. I wanted
more, so much more. A growl slipped from her lips, tingling my mouth.
I probed her mouth with my tongue, finding the tip of her canine. She was dangerous, this wolf. Dangerous for me. My dragon pulsed with desire. Inside my head, he opened his wings and all I saw was fire and fury.
Mine, he warned. Mine to protect.
I mashed my mouth against hers, forcing her lips flat against her teeth. Her growl slipped deeper, forcing my lips to part with a bold caress of her tongue. She belonged to him—to the Bloodletter.
I shuddered with the thought.
There was no escape—not for me—not for her.
God help anyone who touches her again.
My cock hardened as I flattened my palm over the swell of her ass. I wanted to rut like a beast. I wanted to feel her slick with sweat and hear her cry out my name. I wanted to watch myself in her eyes while she rode me. I wanted more—I wanted everything.
Her hands shuddered, clenching tight. She looked tired—weak. Too weak. I broke the connection and inhaled deep staring at her florid lips. I wanted to lick them, to ease her pain and her loneliness.
“We can’t do that again.”
I cringed, watching those lips I’d kissed mouth the words, then stared into her eyes. “I don’t understand. Did you not enjoy it?”
Her answer was slow while inside the mold of my wings spread, filling me.
“Yes. I enjoyed it. That’s the problem. Don’t make demands of me, Marcus.”
I shook my head, my pulse racing. “I won’t….”
“You already have.” She lifted her hand. I braced for impact. The soft caress wasn’t enough as she followed the line of my jaw. I held still in fear she’d pull away. “Don’t want me, Marcus. Don’t feel anything for me at all.”
“Why?”
I waited for an answer. I waited for something I could fight, or beg, or plead. But all I received was her silence. How could I battle that? “Talk to me. Tell me what I can do.”
“They’re waiting.” She whispered, hunching her shoulders forward—creating distance. “Don’t let them wait any longer. That’s what you can do.”
A hiss slipped from my lips at the sting. She was ice, stone… she was the same as me, suffering.
I dropped my head to a nod. “Then we’ll go. But I want to talk about this later, okay?” The heavy beat of my heart filled the space. “Abrial?”
She gave me a slow nod and dropped her hand. “Okay, we’ll talk later.”
I forced my feet to move, to give her space. “We’ll find your pack. We’ll bring everyone here. This place is plenty big enough for all of us.”
“Thank you. Thank you for everything. I can never repay you. All I can say is I won’t let you down. I’ll keep all of us safe.”
“Well, if you haven’t already figured this out, there’s twelve of us. Twelve Zodiac dragons. We might not look like much now, but we’ve seen our fair share of battles.”
“I know who you are.” She whispered. “My mother used to tell us stories about you. The Bloodletter she called you. You represent each sign of the Zodiac, you belong to all creatures and we, in turn, belong to you. The elders told us that the Guardians were so terrifying they killed every vampire, every warlock, and every demon. I was terrified of you once.”
My stomach trembled, still I had to know. “And now?”
“I don’t think you’re a Bloodletter at all.” Her hand passed in front of my face. Fingers probed the tender bone where my horns sprout. “I think you’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m broken. I’m weak.”
She shook her head. “Not in my eyes.”
My throat thickened as a battle raged in her eyes. Something was tearing this woman apart, some secret she wouldn’t share. Not yet anyway.
This time it was me who stepped away. “Then let’s go and get Maddy and this special baby of hers. I could do with a few more strong, independent, stubborn-as-hell women to scream at me.”
The sound of her chuckle made me soar. “Thank the Goddess for that. I guess you won’t be disappointed then.”
I glanced down at the dark blotches on my shirt and reached for the buttons. “I might not act like the Bloodletter, but right now I sure look like him. Let me put on a clean shirt and we’ll go. Your jeans are okay, but your shirts a damn mess. I’ll grab something from my closet.”
I strode across the room to the open closet door as my fingers worked the buttons of my shirt. I scanned clothes lining one side of the room as I dropped my shirt to the floor. I turned at the soft sound of boots scuffing the floor. I waited, heart in my throat, as she stepped into the doorway.
Most of my shirts were too big for her. I grabbed a black singlet that might come close to fitting and held it out. “My shirts will be too big, but at least you can wear this underneath.”
“Thank you.”
She turned and dragged the ripped singlet over her head. I stared at her back. Her skin was perfect, not a scratch, or a blemish. I exhaled hard, mesmerized by her movements as she shrugged into my singlet—the damn thing looked a thousand times better on her.
Abrial turned to face me. Her gaze trailed my chest and arms. I turned, giving her what she wanted. Electricity filled the air. Goosebumps spread across my arms, a breath on the back of my neck urged me forward. The need in her eyes impaled me. I could force her, one slow kiss, one flick of my tongue.
No.
Not like that.
Not until she’s ready.
I dropped my hands and grasped a pair of jeans from the hanger as Abrial dragged her hand along the row of shirts. She plucked a light blue pin-striped shirt from the hanger and pulled it on. “Don’t you own a T-shirt?”
I smiled, stepping to the side and wrenching open a drawer. “A few, do you have any particular color in mind?”
“Red.” She grinned. “I like red.”
I plucked a crimson shirt from the drawer and slid the opening over my head, tugging the shirt into place.
She stepped away and I followed, crossing the dressing room to the bedroom door. Then it hit me. I lunged forward, ready to take her in my arms, as she gripped the handle and yanked the door open.
All eleven of my family waited for her. One glance and I saw relief in their eyes. Even Xael gave the wolf one nod and snapped. “Glad to see you’re alive. Can’t stand to see the sight of a grown man weeping.”
I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came out.
Abrial’s cheeks reddened and she dropped her gaze. “Thank you. I want to thank all of you. I know the circumstances of our meeting haven’t been the best. But, I owe you a debt of gratitude.”
Victor stepped closer taking the wolf in his arms, towering over her. “You’re welcome to stay for as long as you need, you and your pack.”
I narrowed my gaze, searching every face. “You guys were listening, huh?”
“It was a bit hard not to.” Isaiah chuckled.
The twinkle in his eye and the tight curve of his lips said it all. I stepped past and ruffled his long blond hair—even the lion hated the thought of living without someone to care for, someone to love.
I turned, watching as each of my brothers and my sister nodded in acceptance. And in this moment I floated, tethered by the swell of my chest and the hope that we could be more than a faded children’s story. The hallway lights sparkled, blurring into one through a tear, as Abrial gave Victor one last squeeze and headed for the stairs.
Victor’s stride matched mine. “I’ll take the Jeep. You get Zadoc to follow me.”
Abrial raced ahead, stalling at the bottom of the stairs before I called. “Turn right. The garage door’s straight ahead.”
I let her take the lead, falling back to whisper. “I want you to be careful. Something doesn’t feel right. If anything goes wrong, I want you to protect Abrial. Can you do that?”
“Yes.”
Victor’s voice never wavered, still the knot in my belly wound tight. I hit the last stair as th
e slam of a car door tore through the air. I’d take her to find her pack and bring her home, whatever the cost.
My inner dragon fixed his sight on her as I strode through the garage door and hit the button. She turned her head when I yanked open the driver’s door.
Through the dark canopy behind us the sun fought through the trees. Abrial jerked her head, staring over her shoulder. She breathed one long sigh of relief as I shoved the car into reverse and backed out of the driveway, then nosed the car forward and down the drive, catching sight of my brothers following behind us.
“For a second there I didn’t think I’d see this.”
I glanced across the console.
“I didn’t think I’d see today.”
The words stuck in my throat, until I forced them free. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I appreciate you taking us in like this. Maddy’s going to love it here. Odessa, too. You’ll love her. She’s strange and wonderful all at the same time.”
I reached across and gave her hand a squeeze. “I think you’ll fit in beautifully.”
“Just until we’re rested.”
I nodded and wound the car toward the gate. I hit the button and the gate clunked. In my mind I was searching for reasons to make her stay. I’d take anything.
I rolled the car forward, punching the button before yanking the wheel hard and finding the asphalt once more. Abrial leaned her head against the window, her steady breaths were quiet and soothing. I stole glances. She looked so fragile sitting there. Her breathing deepened. I risked a brush of her hair, running the crimson strands through my fingers.
I wanted to drive forever, listening to her softly snore. But only she knew where the track was that would lead us to her pack.
I reached over and brushed her arm. “Abrial, you need to wake up.”
She jerked awake, glanced around the car, and settled on me. “I’m sorry. How long was I out for?”
I glanced at the clock. “Ten, fifteen minutes.”
She scanned the trees, and searched the horizon. “I think it’s just up ahead. You might want to slow down.”
I slowed, catching sight of an opening in the trees. The front wheels hit the gravel, pinging against the belly of the SUV.