by K. de Long
In turn, she had her pack’s carefully cultivated tricks at seeking out the Calcarea Phosphorica needed to complete the healing poultice. She’d stolen a whiff of powder before they took off, without Marrock noticing. She deserved to show off a little. The dried concoction she’d sniffed enhanced her senses until she could detect the smell of a particular kind of sap belonging to a tree that the plant tended to grow symbiotically near. She streaked off in search of the nearest tree with Marrock fast on her heels.
His eyes glowed amber as he caught up with her and saw her prize: several sprigs of Calcarea Phosphorica. His bones shifted and cracked as he transformed back. He reached into his pack for a map. “I don’t think this one’s on the map. I’ll mark it so they can harvest more later.”
She ducked her head in acknowledgment but refused to give up her lupine body. No sooner had he finished putting a dot on the map than she was running in search of the next new scent. He loped alongside her, not bothering to transform back, lest he lose her as he adjusted his burdens. She was frankly fairly impressed that he had managed to keep up. Even if the way his legs corded as he ran was entirely too distracting.
If she was being honest with herself, it wasn’t just the way Marrock looked that was so enticing. All the things she hated about him…she enjoyed them, too. She enjoyed them in the way that she’d never been interested in a man before, because no man weaker than her could ever be worth her strength—and she’d never met a man as strong as she.
Marrock, though—Marrock was her match. And she was his. If ever he outmatched her, it would only be because she let him. Because she gave herself in to him. And there was some part of her that thought that might happen. You know, when hell froze over. But even that carried its own power.
They found four more patches of the herb before the powder wore out, and she settled for a rest. The absinthe was wearing off, and her whole body felt alternately dead and euphoric as her enhanced senses came and went in an unknown tide. It was too difficult to focus on maintaining her wolf form when she was sitting in place.
She let herself reach for the memories of herself as a woman, rather than deal with the pain that came from having a human mind in an animal’s body, and vice versa. If a shifter stayed too long between forms, it could cause disorientation, sickness, and even a temporary psychosis. So it was better to accept that her respite was over.
Besides, letting the inner wolf take over meant letting her subconscious, primal urges take the fore. She was always more honest with herself when in wolf form, and she wasn’t liking the direction of her honest feelings these days. Especially as those feelings related to Marrock.
She rolled her ankles and screwed her face up tight as the blood coursed through the sore pads of her feet. It hadn’t been that long of a run, but it seemed much longer with a human’s endurance. Marrock sat next to her on a rock.
“How did you find those?” he asked.
It wasn’t her secret to tell. Simply a side benefit of her company. She winked. “Family secret.”
“Some secret,” he said with a laugh, then he tugged her feet into his lap. “I didn’t expect us to roam this far. You aren’t tired?”
She was, but she’d never admit it. “The best hunting grounds on our lands are high altitude. The air’s thin. It’s much easier to be in the lowlands.”
He snorted. “I never would have considered this the ‘lowlands.’”
“You’re only saying that because you’ve never inhaled true mountain air.” She drew a deep breath and let it out.
“You miss it, don’t you?”
She threw a sharp look his way. She didn’t want to get into it. Even if he was kneading her feet with strong fingers, easing the aches and cramps of a long run.
He accepted the change of topic gracefully. “You’ve saved lives today, you know. There must be enough CP here to treat ten patients. It’s as much as we usually find in a week.”
She bit her lip. Surely they weren’t that inept. “Don’t look at me like that. It’s not like there’s so much of it here that if you learned to sniff it out, you’d have never needed to saddle yourself with me in the first place.”
His face fell. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant that you’ve done a valuable service for us. It makes me wish our packs had allied sooner.”
She didn’t wish for that. She wanted nothing so much as her own bed, her own home, her own friends. She missed Erin’s friendly face…even the woman’s gossip about her mate and newborn, as much as she’d hated hearing about them at the time. The troubles of a new mother seemed completely alien compared to the ones she juggled as the alpha bitch. The only time anyone woke her up in the middle of the night was to report a murder, not a dirty diaper.
Marrock’s long fingers skimmed up her calf, calling her skin to goosebumps. He barely seemed winded, and yet he had made no effort to get her walking back toward civilization. She wasn’t in a hurry, either. When they were back among people, it would only be a matter of time before she did something else to end up in his crosshairs. She knew it, and hated it. Not that it would stop her from stepping in something, when she felt it was needed. She’d take his punishment, knowing she’d act out again.
Maybe he’d like that.
Maybe she’d like that.
She winced at the thought, not sure what had come over her, and pulled her feet away. Quickly, she stood, so that he was left on the ground, looking up at her.
Better.
“You okay?” he asked, rising to join her.
“Fine,” she said, her tone clipped. Just losing my damn mind.
“We should head back,” he offered, reaching out his hand. “Come on.”
“No, I think we’ll stay here a while longer.”
He narrowed his eyes at her, watching her as she sat down, but made no move to join her. If he’d wanted an obedient spouse, maybe he would have been happier with Mara, as some of his pack clearly wanted. Mara seemed companionable and compassionate. But she also hadn’t been forceful. She hadn’t persuaded Tessa to act so much as explained the situation, and relied on Tessa’s own conscience to do the rest.
No. Marrock had been thrown in opposition against Mara and had judged her as manipulative because not all of her goals were his. An understandable mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. She couldn’t fathom how much it must have wounded Mara being treated as an enemy, simply for existing and being a figurehead for others to rally behind.
She bit her lip. It was a clusterfuck. But Marrock was right; she should have learned the faultlines before she started shaking things up. She’d never have ventured into the woods without knowing which greens were safe to eat; why had she jumped into his pack’s business without learning the lay of their land?
Not that she’d ever admit it to him. He deserved to have his temper tested every once in a while. After all, if he couldn’t take it from her, how would he ever tolerate it from a rival who wished to knock him out of the alpha position?
Marrock finally conceded to sit with her again. He reached out and slid his fingers over a scar on her leg, two reddened impressions in her smooth skin. “How’d you get this?”
“Snake bite,” she said, softening at the memory. “The poison nearly killed me. I was hunting alone and wasn’t as careful as I should have been. I barely limped back to town with it.” She smiled. “My mom was so, so pissed. She knew there wasn’t anything she could leash me to her with that I wouldn’t chew through, but she still struggled at seeing me fighting back the fever and the swelling.”
“I know how that is,” he said, and pulled the neckline of his shirt to the side to point out similar marks on his left pec.
She hissed. It must have hit his bloodstream so much faster, right there. Plainly he was a fighter, too.
“I’d expected we’d be bringing home meat together, but this is probably a better haul, all told. Lighter, too.”
A sly smile played across her lips. “Why not hunt a few hares or something bef
ore we go? You’ve got your knife. We can make some spears and bring in the small game.”
He raised an eyebrow. She laughed. He seemed to think the offer was a trap. “Not that I’m suggesting wanting to kill things is the natural result of spending time with me...”
“Although…” he teased, interrupting her.
She glared at him and gave him a mock smack. His chest was hard under her palm, all steely muscle and smooth skin. She wanted nothing so much as to run her fingers over its dips and planes. But she was still too sore from yesterday to be willing to indulge the thought process. He was an asshole. A sexy asshole, but an asshole nonetheless. He continued, oblivious. “Actually, I was about to suggest the same. That there was something about me that inspires your bloodlust.”
Among other things…
She ducked her head. That damn laugh still colored his voice, adding a baritone boom to it. It infuriated her, even as its vibrations sent tingles across her skin. He’d take her flush as confirmation of the grain of truth in his gentle ribbing. And then they’d be back to being opponents in a fight she didn’t understand.
He withdrew his knife as he hunted for two green branches. His muscles corded as he knelt to look at possible ones then began hacking one of his favorites off the tree. Surely she had better things to do than ogle him—like figure out how to handle his demand to be completely in charge. But that didn’t stop her. Her eyes traced each line of his body, imagining how much more was hidden from her where the cloth fell away from his skin and obscured his contours.
She wished she could see those primal tattoos again, the marks of victory over those who defied him.
Like her, come to think of it. Someday, would he wear a mark for her, a sign of having won her submission?
She couldn’t imagine it. Some things would never happen. He might have her fealty, but he would never have her obedience, or her submission.
Never.
Chapter 14
Liam set the lances he’d chosen on the ground at Tessa’s feet. She pulled out her own knife and set to work whittling the tip sharp.
She bit her lip in concentration as she worked. He wished the little movement had escaped him. Instead, he was forced to watch it redden, take on that little bit of swollen plumpness as though he’d kissed her fiercely.
When he left yesterday morning, when she’d fled to her bedroom, no doubt her lip had looked just like this. And he hadn’t been there to see it. Hadn’t been there to cup her face and kiss her again.
He wished that yesterday could have ended the way that blissful morning began, with her in his arms and a fragile rapport blooming between them.
It was his own fault it hadn’t. He should have—fuck, he should have held his temper. It would have been best for both of them if he had held his tempter and reprimanded her appropriately. Instead, he’d goaded her and lost his cool.
Today seemed to have gone a ways toward repairing the damage; at least she was smiling at him again. But he knew that he could only get so far with her.
She’d never trust him. No matter how pleasant things sometimes seemed between them, he couldn’t forget that what they had wasn’t personal. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t real.
She was a roommate, and possibly an apprentice. Anything else was lust or delusion. Nothing more.
That stung. Things with Mara…well, they hadn’t exactly been passionate. Both he and Mara knew up front that his duty to the pack won out. And she’d never let him think that she considered herself part of that duty, as those who supported her claim to power did. If she had, he’d have broken it off on the spot. It had been a dry agreement, born of practicality: no feelings, no romance.
They’d kept to that, and then they’d parted when he realized that it was impossible to keep to that, given that her second-nature was to use every tool at her disposal on any given task—even him.
Maybe that was why he liked Tessa’s independence, even if he couldn’t forgive her willfulness. She’d never take a problem to him rather than solving it herself. She’d never push others toward him, make his burdens greater, because it would be more difficult for her to work through them without him.
Under other circumstances, he would have enjoyed his little almost-rivalry with her. He didn’t even know how to sum it up. She was a splinter in his foot, a rock in his boot, and yet every bit of frustration she caused him made him grow just a little more attached to her and a little bit stronger as a leader.
Would they still be clawing at each other in another fifty years, when his hair was gray and he’d passed the alpha authority on? Would he pass it on to their son?
He couldn’t even imagine having a child with her. Couldn’t imagine touching her soft skin, drinking in her moans, seeing her smile and twist under his touch, begging for every bit of pleasure he could offer her…
He set his weapon to the side. It was as sharp as it needed to be, and if he continued whittling in that kind of distraction, he’d find himself minus a finger.
She was still going. Unsure what else to do, but not trusting himself if he kept watching the way her face set with concentration, he reached for a broken branch that had fallen near him, about as thick as his wrist. He devoted his attention to it entirely. He didn’t trust himself not to get distracted by the way her skin had felt under his hands, the soft noises of her breathing, and the awareness of how her breath would taste if he kissed her again.
She coughed, and then coughed louder. She was trying to get his attention without startling him. He looked up.
“You ready?” she asked.
The sooner they set about their hunt, the sooner he’d have to return to his duties.
With a sigh, he sheathed his blade and stood. “Yeah.”
He offered her the wood in his palm, and she accepted it with a curious look. It was crude, but he’d managed to plane a section of it smooth and engrave what was left with a sketch of Calcarea phosphorica.
She raised an eyebrow. “You were bored, then. You could have told me to hurry up.”
“It’s not a duck, or a swan, or anything…” He shrugged. He’d simply wanted to have something to remember today by, for the next time he was going out of his mind with anger and worry, all of it directed at her.
She tucked it in her pack. “I’ll keep it forever.”
He laughed. “I know you will. It’s better than the duck.”
“His name is goosey.” She pouted, and his wolf howled for him to kiss her, to nip that lip until she smiled. “Thanks, though.”
“It’s nothing.” Or, nothing he could explain.
She smiled tolerantly, and then they lapsed into silence. He didn’t dare break it, lest he break the peace that had come over them.
At least when their blood was up for the hunt, they wouldn’t be tearing pieces out of each other.
Liam left Tessa when they reached the outskirts. He had to talk to Ryker about adding the locations Tessa had found to his hunters’ maps. They’d only taken a little from the plants, trusting that they’d get far more if he checked back throughout the growing season to harvest it as it grew. It was a good day’s haul, and that he and Tessa hadn’t had their teeth to each other’s throats was a bonus.
With luck, maybe tonight he could keep up that good streak. Maybe she’d stay close to home, and not get herself in trouble. Maybe he’d be able to be someone else around her other than the authoritative voice of reason. Not that she saw him as that—she saw him as the authoritarian control freak. But they were one and the same, really.
Meeting Tessa only confirmed his impression of Alder. If the man couldn’t control his wayward daughter, how the fuck could he control his pack? Tessa had been used to a startling amount of independence. No wonder the Kumori were on the edge of a power shift.
While he adjusted Tessa to his own, more hands-on leadership style, he’d have to tread carefully. Perhaps she would be useful for gauging who her father’s likely successor would be. If he didn’t look like a vulture for a
sking. Tessa would learn to work with others, and obey, and he looked forward to seeing her power get tempered with cooperation and respect.
Or maybe she was right, and he was getting carried away in his self-righteousness. When they’d met, he’d been frustrated watching her father attempt to push her around. And now he was doing the same. He’d cheered as she made the man work for every concession. How could he be surprised that she wasn’t somehow meek when it came to him?
He didn’t like that thought. Not at all.
The grin Ryker gave him threatened to split his face in half. “M. How the hell did you get all this?”
Somehow, the events of the day felt too private, too comfortable, for Liam to be willing to share.
“You don’t want to know,” he said with a wink.
“I take it things are working out at home?”
The smile fell off his face. He wouldn’t go that far. And once the newness of his mate-bond faded, and speculation took off, he was sure he was only gonna look worse. His every public movement with Tessa would be evaluated harshly—from the lack of public flirtation or connection to her acts of defiance. It couldn’t be helped, however. Arranged mates, well, they were largely a thing of the past. While politics might influence a choice, he knew few people who were stupid enough to make that choice entirely for political reasons.
Well, few people other than him. And having seen all of the unintended consequences already, he did count his agreeing to the mating as an act of stupidity. He would have to, at the very least, get her defiance under control. She was not going to like that.
He concluded his business with as few words as possible, a black mood creeping in and corrupting the adrenaline of the hunt.
“That good, huh?” the man muttered as Liam walked away. He ignored it. There was no point to obsessing over the things he couldn’t help.
When he opened the front door, Tessa had just finished her post-hunt bath. The woman did love her baths. He both did and didn’t love her baths, too. The smell of the sweet soap she’d used was strong, almost unbearably sharp in his senses, still enhanced from his transformation. And the way the towel’s wrap draped over her breasts and the tops of her thighs was a sight he could have gone without.