by Alana Hart
“No really,” he said, reaching for her when she made to roll over. “It’s not that easy. You could die from the bite. And if you lived it’s… it’s not something I want to put you through.” He shook his head, the words lost as he thought.
“It’s okay, Aidan. Just go.” She felt raw. Ripped open and raw, exposed.
He sat back on his heels. For one heartbreaking moment, she thought he was going to leave. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He tried again. “I…” But he froze.
She stared up at him, his warmth seeping through the blankets, chasing away the cold. “What?” she said. Still he hesitated. “Say it now, because tomorrow I’ll be dead.”
“No,” he growled. She frowned, confused. No she wouldn’t be dead or no he wouldn’t say it?
And then he tore the blankets away, tossing them aside. She wore her jeans and sweater, but he reached for those and pulled them off roughly, leaving her naked on the mattress. The look on his face when he took in her body made her heart hurt.
She knew what he would see, what had gotten worse after he left her when they were teenagers. The scars crisscrossed her belly, jagged and raised. His fingers trailed over them, and she shivered.
“Your mother?” The pain in his voice tore at her.
Reagan nodded and met his eyes, tears blurring hers. He was beautiful in the moonlight; tattoos and muscles, curls and bright eyes.
He bent; his lips feather light on her belly, her scars. Her fingers moved of their own accord, sliding into his curls, gripping his hair. And then he dipped his head lower. He pushed her knees apart, and pressed his face between her legs.
She bit her lip, watching his curls as he licked at her, holding her hips in his hands. When one hand slid around and his fingers plunged inside her, she cried out.
He was over her in an instant, his hand over her mouth, the other rubbing her from the inside.
“Don’t make any noise,” he whispered. “Don’t scream.”
Screaming was the last thing she wanted to do.
Chapter Fifteen
Aidan watched her eyes dilate. He removed his hand from her mouth and slid down her body, stopping at her breasts. He took one nipple into his mouth, flicked it with his tongue. She tasted like soap and bourbon, warmth and sunshine. He wanted to drown in her. But this was for her.
He couldn’t tell her he loved her. That was beyond cruel, so he had to settle for this. She bucked beneath him, pressing against his hand, arching her back to give him more of her breasts. He treated the other the same and then moved down her stomach, over the network of scars that he should have been there to prevent. He couldn’t take that pain away from her, the memory of it. Living with that knowledge was a punishment he would live with.
Watching his fingers slide in and out of her, he pressed his thumb against her, and she jerked. A strangled sound escaped her, but she bit it back. He grinned and bent forward. Sucking her into his mouth, he felt her arousal wash over him, blinding him. He wasn’t going to fuck her. He’d decided that when he came in to see if she was all right. No matter what, he wasn’t going to touch her.
Well, he was touching her, but he wasn’t going to take anything from her. He wanted to give, not receive.
Her legs trembled on either side of his head, her hands in his hair gripping and pulling. And then she did cry out. He stopped, pulled his fingers from her, and hovered over her, his hand once again on her mouth. Listening for sounds of approach, Aidan startled when he felt her hands on his jeans, yanking them down. He grabbed her wrist, releasing her mouth.
“Please,” she said. She pushed at his chest. He was big enough that if he didn’t move, she couldn’t sit up. He moved. Kneeling, letting go of her wrist, he watched as she sat up and tugged his jeans off his hips.
Once free of the jeans, she grabbed hold of him. It was like muscle memory. As her lips slid over his cock, a thousand images of them together flooded his mind. He bit back a groan. Her tongue slid over him, her lips pulled on him. Absently he moved his hips, pumping slowly into her mouth.
When she moved her hand between her legs, he stopped her. He stood. She stared up at him, dark eyes, hurt and confused. But he stepped out of his jeans, eased her back, pushed her legs apart. He hesitated a moment, the tip of him pulsing against her, guilt eating at him. And then she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him close, and kissed him.
He drove himself inside her.
He cut her cry short, swallowing it, plunging his tongue into her mouth as he moved inside her. This was for her, but he couldn’t help it. He was a selfish bastard and he wanted her.
She wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck, dragging her nails down his back, urging him faster. He complied, his fangs erupting as he crushed her breasts against him. He pulled away from her face so he could watch her. She made small, choked sounds in the back of her throat. Her eyes widened when she saw his fangs, her heartbeat quickening, blood rushing between her legs.
She pressed her lips to his ear and whispered. “Bite me.”
He shook his head against her neck, pumping harder, feeling his release getting close.
She bit his earlobe hard. He growled, slamming into her.
“Bite me,” she said again, her voice no more than a ragged whisper in his ear. “Mark me. Make me yours.”
And he did. It wasn’t deep enough to turn her, but he sank his fangs into her shoulder. She gasped and bit his shoulder in return.
He felt her orgasm slam into her. She fell back against the mattress, arching against him, taking him deeper. He watched her breasts heave as she came down, her eyes clouded over, blood dripping from his bite.
He was there, pulling out so he could finish on the floor, but she grabbed his hips and pulled him into her. He growled and spilled himself deep inside her.
He stayed there, shaking in her arms; both of them slick with sweat, and rested his head against her chest. Her heartbeat slowed, the pulse of it engulfing him. He could stay there forever.
But the sun would be coming up soon. They had a job to do, and no one was going to let Aidan have this woman.
Chapter Sixteen
She watched the sun rise through the small window over the crates. Aidan left her a couple of hours before, kissing her deeply, sadly. He was saying goodbye. She could feel it in the desperate way he held her. And then he locked her in. She had been lying awake ever since, watching the window, wishing the sun would burn out, that morning wouldn’t come.
But come it did, and with it came the sound of a key in the lock.
It wasn’t Aidan who came for her.
Siobhan, her face creased with anxiety, pulled the blanket away from Reagan. Reagan tried to hold her sweater to her neck, but Siobhan tugged it down and saw the bite. The older woman sighed, a sad sound.
“He shouldn’t have done that.”
Reagan blushed. And then she bolted up when she heard the vicious growl from outside the storage room. She looked to Siobhan for explanation.
“Ronan’s back.”
Reagan only vaguely remembered Aidan’s great-uncle Ronan. He had a beard and was usually quiet, but that was it. She had most of her run-ins with Cormac.
Siobhan smacked her thighs and stood. She helped Reagan to her feet. “Well, there’s no hiding what you two did. Don’t know why that boy thought no one would know… or why he marked you.”
Reagan’s face burned. She had asked him to mark her. Her vain hope that he would get carried away and bite too deeply. She hadn’t been kidding when she asked him to turn her.
Siobhan was doing her best to hide the mark, tucking Reagan’s shirt this way and that. Finally she shrugged.
“Just don’t say anything. Don’t look at Ronan if you can help it. I’ll try to keep you safe, but he’s the alpha.”
Reagan understood. No one disobeyed Ronan.
She nodded and silently followed Siobhan out of the storage room. The hall was crowded with shifters in their pajamas, all t
oo afraid to enter the kitchen, craning their necks to see who was in trouble. Reagan could hear the sounds of someone getting smacked around. Her stomach clenched.
Siobhan pushed through, hissing at the others to go back to their rooms. They ignored her, but they did a double take when Reagan passed them. Some jerked away as if she had burned them, others looked between her and the kitchen, seeming to figure out what was going on.
Reagan kept her head down as she left the hall, staying close to Siobhan. A crash made her look up. Fear clogged her throat.
Cormac stood by the counter, coffee in hand, a pained smile tugging at his mouth. Gavin leaned against the fridge, frowning, Liam stood beside him with Harry on his hip. The girl stared wide-eyed into the living room. Liam glanced her way quickly, his eyes unreadable.
In the living room area, Ronan stood, Aidan kneeling before him. The large alpha drove a fist into Aidan’s face, sending him reeling. Aidan took the punch, not fighting back. His nose bled and his eyes were swelled.
Ronan reared back again, but then stopped. He took a breath through his nose and turned cold, blue eyes on Reagan. His white beard and mustache reached his belt, beads hanging here and there, a bandana tied over his head, leather chaps over jeans, his leather vest with the howling wolf on the back. He was every inch the biker and even more so the alpha.
Reagan trembled.
The old man stared at her, and then, as if he remembered her, he sneered.
“I thought we were done with you,” he growled and moved toward her.
Aidan yelled, gripping Ronan’s wrist, Siobhan stepped in front of Reagan. Even Cormac came around the counter, his coffee forgotten.
Ronan ripped his wrist from Aidan’s grasp, but it was Cormac who stilled his brother. He held fast to Ronan’s shoulder.
“It’s my fault. Her husband hired us and I put Aidan on the job.”
Ronan’s eyes cut to Cormac.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” He jabbed a finger at Aidan. “He had another two months before we brought him back. He’s got to start thinking about running this pack.” His finger pointed in Reagan’s direction. “This your idea of a joke?”
Though Cormac smiled he said, “No, just thought it would help humble the boy.”
Only a man in his eighties could call Aidan a boy.
Ronan glared at his brother. His voice dropped low, dangerous. “We already lost Connor to a human.”
Cormac had the decency to look ashamed. But he brightened quickly. “Job’s done today. She goes back to her husband and we get the location for that shifter trade I told you about.”
Ronan grunted. “After this job is done, he goes back to Ireland and stays there until he’s ready to come back and be an alpha. Find him a mate from Day’s pack in Galway.”
Cormac nodded. Ronan’s glare found Aidan again. The room held its breath.
Finally, the old man moved toward the hall. There was a great scrambling as the shifters listening in hurried to get out of his way. Siobhan moved Reagan so that she wasn’t in his path. But he didn’t even look at her as he walked past.
“Gavin,” he called. “With me.”
“Oh, actually I was going with them—”
“Now.”
“Coming.” The youngest alpha tromped after the eldest, giving Reagan a glare on the way. She felt bad. It was her fault Ronan was in a bad mood.
Cormac bent to inspect Aidan’s face. It was already healing. His eyes were now bruised instead of swollen, and his nose straightened out. He mopped the blood off his face at the sink, keeping his eyes on the running water.
“Well then,” Cormac said, that ever-present smile pulling at his lips. “Let’s put all this fuss behind us and get to business.”
Reagan found her legs and made her way to the counter. Liam sat Harry on a stool, glancing at Reagan. If it weren’t Liam looking at her, she would have said he seemed concerned.
“All right then,” Cormac said. He sipped his coffee. “Liam and I’ll drop this one at the door, collect our pay, and head out. You,” he pointed at Aidan. “And Emmett’ll wait in the van down the street. She’ll have the mic on so we know when Donahue makes the call. Once we leave, it’s all on you to make sure he knows he’s not getting the pup back.” Cormac pinned Reagan with those pale blue eyes.
She nodded, her stomach sick.
But Cormac didn’t let up yet. “You got to make sure he calls. He don’t call, we don’t get a location. No location, no sending anyone in to find out what the fuck is going on. We need that location.”
Reagan cleared her throat. “I know. I’ll make sure he calls.” What choice did she have? It was her life for those of the other pups waiting to be sold to scumbags online.
Cormac nodded. “Once Donahue makes the call, Liam and I’ll go in, take him out, and then you’re free to go.”
She stared at him. “Go where?”
He shrugged. “Anywhere you like. That place in Georgia. Your sister’s in Hawaii. Anywhere.”
Ah, she understood, he meant anywhere but here. If she lived, she was to go far away so as not to tempt Aidan. This conversation felt very much like the one she and Cormac had thirteen years ago when he’d told her she and Aidan could never be.
She cast her eyes to the floor. “Hawaii sounds nice.”
“Good. And once all that’s done, Liam, you’ll be going in for recon.”
Liam nodded.
“All right,” Cormac smiled. “Let’s go. Liam, get Emmett.”
Siobhan pursed her lips, but said nothing.
Reagan carried Harry out to the parking lot. Siobhan had managed to get a tee shirt on the girl before she went outside. Snowflakes fell softly. It was cold enough that they stuck to the ground, turning the black pavement white.
Cormac opened the back door of the SUV. Aidan climbed into a van with Emmett, never looking at Reagan. His face had completely healed by the time they left the kitchen. If she had that werewolf power, she wouldn’t have to worry about Hank beating the shit out of her. The mark on her shoulder stung, reminding her that she did not have that power.
“Time to say goodbye,” Cormac told her.
Reagan hugged Harry close, breathing in the scent of her. The pup looked healthier, chubbier, her cheeks full of color. She would be good with the pack. With a final hug that Harry tolerated like a puppy wanting to play, Reagan handed her over to Siobhan, her throat tight.
The older woman took Harry, stared at Reagan a moment, and then threw her free arm around her.
“Everything’ll be…” Siobhan took a breath. “It was nice getting to know you, Reagan.” She pulled away and met Reagan’s eyes, tears in her own. “You are nothing like your family was.”
With that, she went back inside, taking Harry with her. Reagan stood beside the SUV, snow coating the top of her head, her eyes stinging. A rap on the door got her moving again. She sat in the backseat, Liam in front of her, Cormac driving.
She had a half an hour to try and convince them to let her go or to cry or fall into a pit of despair and wail. But she did none of those things. Instead, Reagan sat quietly in the backseat; her head back, watching the snow fly past the window. Some old ballad played on the radio, Cormac humming along.
At one point, halfway to New Hampshire, Liam turned around in his seat, his brows furrowed.
“I don’t like humans,” he said.
She met his gaze. “I know.”
He stared a moment, his eyes troubled. “You’re not that bad, though.”
She smiled. That was as good as it would get with Liam. He turned back around, leaving her to her thoughts.
Too soon, they were in Nashua. Reagan’s hands clenched in her lap, she watched the city become residential side street. They parked in front of a stretch of trees. Her house was around the corner. Absently, Reagan touched the mark on her shoulder, rubbing it as though somehow she could infect herself with the bite.
“Hop on out,” Cormac told her.
A weak sun shon
e from a white sky, and it was freezing. Snow fell randomly and a biting breeze pinched Reagan’s cheeks.
Liam stood beside the SUV and stretched. Cormac went to the van and spoke with Emmett in the back. Aidan hopped out of the van and came toward Reagan, a wire in his hand.
He kept his eyes down and didn’t speak as he attached a tiny box to the inside hem of her jeans. His fingers grazed her skin, warming her. Lifting her shirt, her pushed the microphone up to her bra. His face was red and his eyes flitted to hers, his face far too close.
She knew her heart was beating wildly, but hoped that everyone would assume she was scared and not attribute it to having Aidan’s hands on her, his fingers whispering against her breasts. She took a breath, trying to steady herself, but got a big lungful of Aidan. He bent, his cheek near her mouth, as he attached the microphone to the middle of her bra, tucking the hanging wire into her pants.
When he’d finished, she saw his throat work as he swallowed. He stood, his hands resting on her stomach a moment, and then he stepped back, his eyes on the ground.
Was he really not going to look at her before she walked back to Hank? Didn’t he realize this could be the last time he saw her alive? She was willingly giving her life to help them save some unknown number of shifters, and he couldn’t have the decency to even look at her?
He must have felt her change in emotion; felt the nervousness shift to sadness, because he flinched and met her eyes for a brief second. But that second was enough.
He was hurting.
Maybe he did care about her. Like he used to. Or maybe he was finally closing the wound she’d given him ten years ago and then reopened when Cormac sent him to fetch her.
For his sake, she needed to be strong. If she lived—which she wasn’t sure if she wanted to right now—she could be miserable in Hawaii, far from Aidan. She was sure Cormac would probably pay for her to get there.
Cormac climbed out of the van and joined Reagan and Liam by the SUV. “All set?”
Aidan nodded.
“Let’s go.” Cormac took her arm and steered her back into the SUV. She sat, resting her head against the window when he shut the door. Aidan remained on the street as they pulled away, turning the corner, putting him out of view. All the while, he watched the ground, snow collecting in his curls.