The thought of not informing her about the fight crossed his mind. As he drove off to buy her some flowers, he did consider keeping her in the dark. He had every faith in himself. He would beat Bryant; he had done it once already. It would be easier if he just left told her that his mistakes had been forgiven, and that it was safe for her to go home. Afterward, he would not call her. He would try to make Monica believe he was just another typical man who ignored women after sleeping with them.
But Raul had proven to her that he was anything but an ordinary man. And she was a smart woman. Most likely, the young doctor would ask him to explain why his pack had forgiven him, and that meant that he would have to lie to her. He was a terrible liar. Raul found it impossible to look at someone in the eye and hide the truth from them. More than that, he would not treat Monica in such a manner. If there was one person in this world who deserved to know the truth, and nothing but the truth, it was her.
Upon his return to his cabin, he found her waiting for him in his front yard. Raul was somewhat surprised to notice that she had not dressed up. Monica wore a pink, thin-knit sweater, a pair of blue jeans, and black, knee-high boots, certainly not what he had been expecting. He grabbed the bouquet of deep purple with a few yellow mixed irises from the passenger’s seat as he opened his car door.
“Hey.” Raul smiled, handing the flowers over to her.
“Thank you.” Monica returned the smile, lowering her head to smell the mixed irises. “They’re beautiful.
“I thought you’d want to wear something fancier. You still look phenomenal, though,” Raul stated through the huge grin on his face.
“Well, we’re in the countryside. Definitely not the place for expensive dresses or high heels,” Monica murmured. “I need to take these inside. Wait here, please.”
As she left him alone, he felt his heartbeat escalate. The moment of truth was fast approaching, but he was not going to discuss anything with her just yet. Raul wanted to get to their destination first. It was much more private and romantic than his front yard.
“Okay,” she chirped, closing the door behind her. “I’m ready. Where are we going?”
“We’re hiking,” he announced, offering his hand as a hesitant smile formed on his face. “We’re going to Clover Lake. It’s about half a mile west from here.”
“Why would you take me there?” Monica wondered, her voice stiffening as she intensified her stare.
“Because it’s in a clearing. It’s small. Quiet,” Raul replied, a hint of unease brushing across the senses bequeathed to him.
“You want me to go to the place where you are fighting tomorrow?” Her tone turned into a high-pitched yell, sending shockwaves down his spine. He had yet to see so much tension in her face. “I know, Raul. I was just about to get out of my house when I heard you talking about it with that guy.”
“Oh, Monica…” He heaved a long, heavy sigh as his gaze shot up into the sky.
“Look, I know why you’re doing this.” This time, her voice came out mellow as she wrapped her fingers around his hand. “And I’m flattered. I really am, but this is just madness.”
“I got into a fight with him a couple of days ago because he threatened to hurt my sister. You’re not the only reason I’m doing this,” Raul spoke, dragging his gaze down to meet hers, his baritone lowering, but maintaining its calmness. “Come on. It’s beautiful out there.”
“How can you be so cool?” Monica asked as they started forward. “Aren’t you scared?”
“Doc,” he snorted, clutching her hand into his, “can you please not talk about this? It’s causing me a headache. This is our first date. The last thing I want to discuss is my beef with Bryant.”
“Tell me more about your art, then,” she said, assuming a much sweeter voice as they neared the forest border. “First of all, why painting? You’re really great at it, but why did you choose it in the first place?”
“Because brushes and canvases don’t make any noise,” Raul said as his lips curled into a crooked smile. “I really liked the idea of playing the guitar, but it tortured my ears.”
“You run a motorcycle workshop,” Monica responded in a quizzical manner, casting a sideways smirk up at him. “Isn’t that a lot noisier?”
“Banging a hammer is a sharp sound. It may be loud, but it fades pretty quickly. Vibrating strings are totally different, especially when we’re talking about electric guitars. The sound lingers. It continues to reverberate. It’s pure torment,” he explained, catching a glimpse of the moon peeking through the trees as they crossed the forest border.
“It’s about physics, then. You can’t tolerate the continuous cyclical sound coming from the guitar strings. It’s like the Doppler Effect and emergency vehicles: the cyclical sound is meant to catch attention and maybe even cause pain,” Monica concluded. “That’s too bad. You’d look fantastic with a guitar strapped around your neck.”
“I think I’d look better with something else around my neck,” Raul murmured as a sly smile spread across his face.
“What would that be, Mr. Wolf?” This time, her voice came out raspy as she pivoted around and stepped in front of him.
“Your arms, if they look half as good as they feel,” he uttered in a deep, low voice as their eyes met. Raul walked her backward, lifting his right hand to her face and resting his left one on her hip. When her back hit a tree, Monica gave him a playful smile, one that he had been longing for since her outburst. Letting go of her hip, he took her hand into his. He meant to lead it to his heart, but his savior had another idea. She slid her hand under the hem of his shirt. Pushing out a slight breath, Raul twitched as he felt her cool fingers brushing his lower abs. Her smile faded as her hand traveled up his body. Monica splayed it over his pounding heart as he leaned in toward her.
“Why am I acting like this?” Her question and the puzzled look in her eyes sent a tide of laughter washing over him. Raul let out a deep chuckle that resonated through his chest as he gently rolled his head from side to side.
“Why are you asking?” He responded with a question, caressing her cheek.
“I have never done anything like this,” Monica confessed, her feminine voice shaking as her cheeks flushed. “Seducing, talking during sex, touching a man so boldly…”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Raul said, trying to assure her by using a softer tone as he tipped her chin up.
“I can’t even begin to describe how you make me feel,” she whispered, a light breeze blowing through her hair. “It can’t just be described as carnal. When I’m close to you, I keep wondering if I should pose for another painting, kiss you, or just listen to you. My mind goes into overdrive, and my heart is racing. This has never happened to me before.”
“You should stop wondering,” he suggested with a short nod. “My paintings are about specific moments, not just everyday things. I could paint you while you’re cooking, but there’s nothing special about that, is there? But when I plucked you from the air, it was… electrifying. As for the ‘heart racing’ bit, well, how’s my heartbeat?”
“Faster than mine,” Monica snorted, sliding her hand down his chest as Raul’s arm went around her neck. He pulled her closer, dying to kiss the lips that had said so many wonderful things about him. This kiss felt so different than anything he had experienced so far. As their mouths joined, he felt as if her lips had sent electricity down his spine. It was magical, featherlike, and yet so true, filled with much more than just lust. It was then that Raul realized special did not begin to describe their bond, despite its youth. It had grown strong in just a matter of days, much stronger than he anticipated, as if it was made out of the toughest materials on this Earth. Monica exhaled hard as he pressed his forehead into hers, feeling the roots of her curls on his skin.
“Now it’s even faster,” she teased, lightly pinching him.
“You’re responsible,” he whispered, dropping his arm. “Come on. The lake’s waiting.”<
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Silence hovered over them as they headed toward their destination. They both seemed to love it, holding hands as they strolled through the forest. Indeed, neither Raul nor Monica would address each other. He watched as the occasional beam lit up her face, whereas she stole glances at him every few seconds. Her behavior was somewhat unusual for a woman, or at least different from the ones he had met so far. Most of them would just ramble on and on, but that was not the case with her. If anything, Monica Mills knew exactly when to speak and what to say. She talked more than him, but he didn’t mind. After all, Raul was a man of few words. Finding someone less talkative than him would be rather peculiar.
More beams of moonlight lit their path as they closed in on the lake. Spotting a large rock to the right, he released her hand. Raul hopped on the stones under it, reaching up, his gaze settled on its surface. He held onto the dusty edge and moved his leg over the side of the rock. Climbing onto it, he sat down and turned his head to the left. Monica had only just put her hands together and was giving sarcastic slaps.
“Bra-vo,” she muttered. “Now pull me up, will you?”
At her request, he scooted over to the edge of the rock, reaching out his arm. Grabbing her hand, he flexed his muscles as she reached up her other hand to grip his wrist. In a quick move, Raul pulled her up, the dust staining her boots as they scraped up the rock. He scooted further, making some room for her while still clutching her hand. Monica seated herself beside him and then faced the lake. The peaceful surface glimmered silver in the moonlight as a mild breeze rustled through the forest. There was an intoxicating smell in the air, a mixture of pine, balsam fir, oak, and wet soil. Absolutely nothing disrupted the veil of serenity that surrounded them, except the faint sound of their breaths.
“Oh, my God,” Monica whispered, closing her eyes as she let her head rest on Raul’s shoulder. “And I thought the view from my porch was great.”
“What’s that look like?” Raul asked, turning to her as he wrapped his arm around her neck.
“Wolf Mountain Peak is in the distance.” Her voice came out drowsy as he pushed tendrils of her hair back that hung from her face. “It’s beautiful. It looks purplish in the moonlight, but it is way too far. This is better–closer, shinier.”
“I told you you’d like it.” He smiled, savoring the warmth of her body against his as he traced her jawline with his index finger. “I love this place. But you make it so much prettier. I can picture you in a boat in the middle of the lake, looking up into the sky.”
“Keep talking.” Her purr made his heart flutter as she rubbed her cheek against his shoulder.
“The lake glows under the moonlight, but you shine brighter,” Raul whispered, feeling the tenderness of her skin under his hand. “Your eyes are a sparkling gold. Your entire figure is illuminated as if it’s made out of magic, not flesh and bone.”
A split second after he finished his sentence, he felt her soft lips on the side of his neck. Monica’s hand traveled up his thigh as she began to kiss her way up. This time, she didn’t slide her hand under his shirt. Instead, she moved it upward, her delicate fingers sending sweet sensations rippling through him. And when her fingertips made contact with his collarbone, Raul felt electricity running through him for the second time that night, scorching every doubt that was left within him. Monica was his mate. It was clear to him now. Never in his life had he felt so powerless under a woman’s touch. None other had inspired him as much as she did. She was bringing out his better self, the protector, the painter, and now, the poet, willing to put the beauty of her form and her heart into words.
Monica trapped the sensitive skin under his ear between her teeth, softly dancing her fingers over his throat. Her lips moved over to his cheek, but Raul was not going to let her complete whatever she had in mind. Flexing his arm around her, he held her close as he bent his head toward her. Their mouths joined in a long, gentle kiss as she slid her fingers up his jawline. He reached his hand up to her face, carefully tracing the line between her lips as he tangled his fingers into her hair. Monica’s curls were no longer a mere attraction. They were serving as a trap, a sweet web that he would not seek to break free of. And why would he? It surrounded him with so much affection that he would happily spend the rest of his days there, pledging himself to the woman who had danced into his world. Raul laid a short kiss on the tip on her nose and then one more on her forehead before pulling her into a tight embrace. Monica buried her head into the crook of his neck, caressing his cheek as she curled her other arm around his waist.
Once again, silence hovered over them. Neither of them would speak. Raul would not address her, fearing that anything he might say to his savior might ruin the moment. For him, this was the best way to enjoy the closeness. As he opened his eyes, however, he noticed something on the other side of the lake: a pair of red eyes peeking through the underbrush. A feline. But right now, a tiger–one of the most powerful and biggest cats in the world–would not be enough to distract him, and this was no tiger. It was a mountain lion, the only residing feline in the area. Raul dismissed the animal with a short laugh. This was no time for a squabble. This was their moment.
Chapter Fourteen
With nothing but smiles and a blissful heart, Raul climbed off the rock and helped Monica do so as well. She was much smaller than him, and being human, she was nowhere near as strong or agile as he. The wonderful night they had spent together so far had assisted him in pushing all negative thoughts aside. By now, the young wolf was focused on her and her alone. He could not preoccupy himself with the impending fight. Monica was all that mattered to him, or better, the conclusion of their date. Raul had shown her his romantic side once more. Now, he couldn’t wait to be alone with her, and at last give her a night she would never, ever forget.
The young couple started down the moonlit path, arms wrapped around each other’s waists. Not long after, though, a shadow began to follow their footsteps, choking out the light. It didn’t stop at their spot. On the contrary, it went on and on, eradicating the soft beams that showed them their way back home. Raul peered skyward. Something was very wrong. The stars were not veiled. The moon was high in the sky, and yet, the forest around them was pitch-black.
“Raul, what’s going on?” Monica wondered, her voice struggling. “I can’t see a thing!”
He didn’t dignify her question with an answer. As he parted his lips, he spotted the same pair of red eyes a few feet down the path. The disappearing light and the height of its eyes made him realize how wrong he had been earlier. This was no mountain lion. The creature stood more than a few inches taller than five feet, almost as tall as Monica. Before Raul could speak, those eyes were lowered as if they were looking at something much closer than they were. A puff of air ignited a short fire on the tip of a long, thin, cylindrical object, revealing a feminine face. Raul watched as a fire sprang out of the ground, scorching twigs and dry leaves as it encircled the woman, exposing her outfit as well as the object in her hand. She was dressed in black. Her skin was fair, just a shade darker than snow, and her high cheekbones were lightly dusted with freckles.
“An enamored couple,” she stated, her voice feathery and filled with admiration as she gripped her staff tighter. “A timeless sight, one might say.”
“She’s a witch…” Raul growled, and his fangs lengthened as the wolf inside him beckoned him to be let run free.
“Indeed,” she admitted as a polite smile formed on her face. “Control your beast, firstborn. I mean you no harm.”
“How do you know…?”
“I know everything about you, Raul Bradford,” she interrupted, assuming a stiffer, louder tone. “Pardon me. I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Helena. Helena Lockhart. Come,” she urged, holding out her free hand. “There is much you need to know.”
“Get out of my way, witch.” His stentorian voice rumbled like thunder as Monica watched their conversation, utterly speechless. “Don’t make me ask twic
e.”
At that, the look in Helena’s eyes changed. It lost its tranquility as she furrowed her brow at him. Glaring at him, she tapped her thumb on her staff once as the red shade of her eyes darkened. In an instant, Raul felt his airway shut. He parted his lips, in an attempt to breathe, but to no avail. He was choking. The witch had stolen his breath. Reaching up to his neck, he opened his eyes wide, trying to gasp as fear spread all over Monica’s face.
“Stop it!” she cried out, leaning forward as tears welled up in her eyes. “You’re killing him!”
“That was not my intent,” Helena grumbled, her eyes dimming to the same, soft shade just before Raul coughed, struggling to catch his breath. “I merely desired to demonstrate how easy it is for me to snuff the life out of him. Your partner is by far the strongest and most dominant wolf in his pack, Ms. Mills, but he is no match for me.”
“You know my name, too?” Monica squinted at her.
“Yes.” Helena gave a firm nod, reaching into her pocket. The sight of a large, crystal ball in the palm of her hand puzzled Raul. He glanced down at Monica and then back at the object, curious as to what the witch wanted with them. “You are to fight against Bryant Ratcliff tomorrow night, my young firstborn,” Helena continued as her gaze fixed on the ball. “It is a fight you shall win. But, you cannot win the one that will follow. Come closer. You need to see this. It is what shall come to pass should you decide to come back here tomorrow night.”
Raul was tempted. This woman knew them both, and, judging by her words, she had information about their future. He had spent hours that day guessing his alpha’s intentions, wondering if he would stay true to his word about not going after Monica. Helena’s suggestion was too hard to resist. He cast one last glance down at his girlfriend and then started forward, adrenaline rushing through his veins. Rather than staying rooted to her spot, Monica followed right behind him.
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