Wild Instinct

by McCarty, Sarah

  “Don’t tell me what to do.”

  He wasn’t that successful this time in keeping his voice even. “Do not argue with me.”

  “Why? Because you’ve got an overinflated sense of your own importance?”

  “Because I’m your mate and my word is law.”

  Her eyes flew wide. The jar rattled when her hand bumped it. So much for sensitive. “Not for me.”

  Teri was an obstinate woman, even when terrified. He slipped the sleeve of her gown back up over her shoulder. The smoothness of her skin teased his fingertips. She was also a very feminine woman. He imagined he would be attracted to her whether she was his mate or not. It was hard to tell. She stood frozen under his touch. He forced himself to pull his hand away. He would have much rather pulled her to him. And if she had been wolf, he would’ve done just that, letting the bonding pull comfort her. But she was human, and all she felt at the draw of her soul to his was terror.

  “What are you doing?”

  He drew his hand away, and shook his head. “Being sensitive.”

  She blinked, a slow lowering of her eyelids that could have meant anything but, he’d come to realize over the time he’d cared for her, actually meant she was gathering her composure. It was a learned technique. He wondered what it was in her life before he met her that had taught it to her. He waited, wondering what she would say. All he got was a “Thank you.”

  He supposed he could work with that. “At least you’re not running screaming for the hills.”

  Another blink and then, “Not yet.”

  The tiny flash of humor gave him pause. And hope. He reached down and turned off the water. For a brief second the smell of lavender covered the scent of her. He was grateful for the reprieve. He needed it to get his arousal under control. “Just let me know when you feel the urge.”

  As he hoped, her curiosity drove her to ask, “Why, so you can chase me down?”

  From the acrid scent of fear that flooded over him when he straightened, he didn’t think the same sexy urges were going through her mind as were going through his. He touched her cheek. The thought of her running from him in fear made him sick. “No. So I can open the door for you to run free.”

  So I can open the door for you to run free.

  Teri sank deeper into the fragrant bathwater. The implication of Daire’s parting words rippled around her with the same frequency of the water. He wanted to set her free. From her fears? From the black hollow that was threatening to swallow her whole? From the all-encompassing hold he had on her? She flicked her fingers in the water, settling back against the tub. Her hand instinctively went to the scars running from her neck vertically down over her breast, remembering the heat with which he watched her. She’d seen enough of Sarah Anne’s and Heather’s men to understand that the latter was not an option. Werewolves were very possessive of their mates.

  Her hand slipped below the water to cup her empty stomach. She’d often wondered if her child hadn’t been killed, would his father have come for it? The need to procreate was very strong in a werewolf, but half-werewolf children were seen as a source of weakness, not pride. So why had those werewolves raped her? They’d been very clear that their intent was to impregnate her, but why, when their offspring would have been reviled by the pack whose opinion they valued so highly?

  She closed her eyes against the memories clawing at the barriers she’d set up against them. That night didn’t deserve to be relived, and she’d vowed it wouldn’t own her, but the baby—dear God she’d wanted her baby. All her life she thought she’d been barren. All her life she’d thought for her there’d be no blood bond connecting her to anyone else in the world, and then out of the ugliest thing that had ever happened to her, there had come that miracle. And she’d wanted it. Her nails dug into her abdomen, everything in her reviling the flatness, the absence of life, the lack of hope. She wanted to cry, scream, rant, but she couldn’t. All she could do was lie there in the soothing bath and feel the darkness grow deeper. Soon it would swallow her and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  “You will not do this.”

  There was a time when a man suddenly appearing beside her bath would’ve sent her into a splashing panic. But now, she couldn’t even work up the emotion to cover her breasts. “You’re the one who insisted I wanted a bath.”

  The smell of chicken soup teased her nostrils. There was an abstract sensation of hunger, but not enough to get her motivated. Eating required effort and she didn’t have the energy to spare. “I’m not hungry.”

  “As I said, you will not do this.”

  She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see Daire’s scarred face that carried so much of his personality. Because if she did, she’d feel that strange need to hug him that threatened to pull her back into the pain of living. She couldn’t go back there. “Just what is it you think I’m doing?”

  “Crawling into the grave with your baby.”

  The bald truth cut deep.

  “It’s not your call.”

  Fingers closed under her chin. Pressure tilted her face up. There was nothing brutal in the move, but it was loaded with conviction. She let it slide off into the blackness that rose to meet the emotion. The darkness was not only strong enough to swallow her; it could also protect her. And if she just hid behind it long enough, she’d be safe forever.

  “Open your eyes, Teri.”

  No, she wasn’t doing that. There were things she didn’t want to see, remember.

  “Open your eyes.”

  This time the order echoed in her mind, stronger and more compelling, overwhelming the blackness, forcing her to comply. Oh, dear God, he was stronger than the darkness!

  Teri shoved against Daire’s hold. Nothing could be stronger than the darkness.

  “I am.”

  Had he said that or thought it?

  She clung to the obvious while she battled the subtle. “You’re telepathic?”

  “I’m an ancient. I’m many things.”

  Not an answer. Her stomach turned, her brow felt cold and clammy and she couldn’t get her breath. A panic attack. She was having a panic attack.

  I am here.

  And he was. Suddenly, there was the kiss of cool air as she was lifted out of the tub and then the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms holding her as the fear grew. Daire settled back into the water with her, unmindful of his clothes and the overflowing tub.

  “I need to go to bed,” she whispered. Back to the only place in the world where she felt safe.

  “No.”

  She dug her nails into his skin, almost laughing hysterically as she realized what she was doing. What threat were her puny human nails against a man who could grow claws big enough to disembowel another with a single swipe?

  “I need to go to bed now.” Before she lost her hold on the darkness. Before it could get angry and let her go. Before it left her to deal with everything she couldn’t.

  “You need to sit here with me and face your life.”

  She didn’t have a life to face. She didn’t have anything.

  “You have me and the future I have given you.”

  Flashes of the night in the cave razed her mind, and through the kaleidoscope of fear and pain came a promise.

  No one will ever touch you again.

  Her scalp tickled from the kiss Daire pressed on her hair. He’d made her that promise. And he was the one breaking it.

  “Except you,” she whispered. She had no doubt Daire intended to touch her. He considered her his mate. It would be inconceivable to him to do anything else.

  “Is that your fear? Is that why you hide within yourself gathering all the sadness around you like a shield? You fear you have to make love to me?”

  How did he know her so well? She shook her head no, not wanting to admit the truth to a man who could read her mind. His hand slipped to her abdomen, covering hers. She hadn’t even realized she’d still been holding herself there, sheltering a baby that no longer e
xisted.

  “I will never touch you without your consent.”

  “You are now.” His strength was beneath her, around her. In her.

  His hair tickled the back of her shoulders as he shook his head. The pressure in the top of her head from his kiss gently slid down her skull until it brushed her ear.

  “No. Now I am just responding to that part of you screaming for help. Open your eyes and see the truth.”

  Her lids lifted whether she wanted them to or not. Was he forcing her or was she just that desperate? As her gaze met his, he said, “I mourn with you, seelie.”

  He couldn’t. There was no way he could know what that tiny flutter of life meant to her.

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “In order to save you, I had to lock my mind to yours. That takes an incredible bonding. I felt your daughter’s life force.”

  She doubled over in pain from the blow. Unfair. Unfair that he could know it was a daughter, and he knew her daughter in a way that she couldn’t. He went with her, sheltering with his big body as if there was anything that could take away the pain of the wound he’d just ripped open.

  Think. She had to think. “All you would have felt at the touch of her life force was the urge to kill her,” she rasped.

  He snapped back mentally. Shock poured over her along with another emotion she didn’t want to define. She practically threw herself out of the tub. Water sloshed over the side, drenching the floor. She grabbed a towel off the rack and held it in front of her like a shield. He sat there in the tub, staring at her with nothing particular in his expression, yet she knew he hurt. She’d hurt him, and she hated him for letting her know that.

  “I know how werewolves are. You’re a vicious, jealous, possessive lot. You never would’ve tolerated my daughter to live.” She turned on her heel and left the room, her motions a discordant jangle. She needed to lie down, to find the embrace of the darkness. It hurt too much to live.

  IT hurt too much to live.

  That last, desperate thought that projected so much emotion struck Daire hard. There were times when the pain in his life, the loneliness, had made him wonder if moving on to the next world should be an option. But he hadn’t taken it, never really seriously considered it. His duty was not to himself. It was to his pack. But Teri didn’t have pack. Had never had pack, but her need to belong was as strong as any wolf’s need. And her baby, no matter how it came about, had been the one thing she’d always wanted. Had been a start on creating a family. He stood and undressed, leaving his clothes beside the tub. He eyed the neglected soup. He’d have to make her eat soon.

  Stepping out, he grabbed a towel and roughly dried himself before following Teri into the bedroom. She was lying on her side in the bed, the covers pulled high. The only thing visible was the top of her head. He walked around to the other side of the bed and lifted the covers. She didn’t move as he slid beside her and spooned his much bigger body around hers. He settled his hand over hers as it pressed into her abdomen. He drew her back against him and rested his lips on the top of her head. She was wrong. He did understand.

  Three

  “TRYING out new cologne?” Wyatt asked, grimacing from where he sat behind his desk.

  Daire didn’t blink as he crossed the office, the scent of lavender traveling with him. “Yes.”

  Wyatt studied him for a second, his eyes narrowed, and then relaxed in that subtle way Daire was beginning to understand meant he’d seen what he wanted.

  “Just a word of advice—it’s a little too feminine for you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Daire sat in the big leather chair opposite. “You sent for me?”

  Wyatt took the hint. “A problem has returned.”

  “Oh?”

  “I need it taken care of.”

  “Why can’t Kelon or Donovan handle it?”

  “I need it handled quietly.”

  Daire sat a little straighter in his chair, his curiosity piqued. “I never knew either of them to lack discretion.”

  “I’m afraid in this case, discretion will be beyond their ability.”

  “What is it?”

  “Buddy is back in town.”

  “The human who hurt Robin and tried to kill Lisa?”

  “One and the same.”

  Daire smiled. At last, something he was good at. “I’ll be happy to deliver Haven’s justice.”

  Wyatt sighed. “I don’t want him killed.”

  Daire sat forward. “The law is clear.”

  Death was the sentence for those that attacked a pack woman. Wyatt tossed his pen on the pile of papers on the big desk. “We can’t afford the attention. It’s bad enough the Carmichaels are grouping for war. If they attack, a pile of werewolf bodies is going to be hard enough to explain, but if the deaths spill over to humans . . .” He shrugged. “Hell, every branch of law enforcement in three states will be crawling all over here. If we want this pack to survive on the fringes of the human world, we need to blend.”

  Shit. “So what do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to convince Buddy he needs to sell his holdings and leave.”

  He could do that. “No problem.”

  “I don’t like the look of that smile.”

  “Just anticipating.”

  Wyatt leaned forward and met his gaze squarely. “When I say ‘convince,’ I don’t mean through force.”

  Daire stilled.

  “I want you to influence him.”

  “That is forbidden.” The penalty for any wolf using persuasion against anyone’s will was death by disembowelment, followed by beheading.

  “I know what I’m asking.”

  “It would be bad for everyone if it were found out. Influence does not last forever.”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

  “It would be easier to kill him.”

  “Yes, it would.” But Wyatt wasn’t going to allow it. “Do you need to think about it?” the Alpha asked.

  No. He didn’t. His future was here. He couldn’t live with Teri in any other pack but Haven. Haven had to survive and here was where they’d made their stand. “Where is he?”

  “At his old haunts.”

  “The pool hall where Lisa taught him respect?”

  There wasn’t a werewolf around who hadn’t heard the tale of how Donovan’s mate had avenged the injury done her sister. She’d stormed into the pool hall, picked up a cue, marched into a group of men and made her point. She was legend among the werewolves for the sheer novelty of a woman, human or werewolf, having such courage. It helped the legend that Donovan had been there that day and liked to tell the tale.

  “Yes.”

  He stood. “I’ll pay him a visit.”

  Wyatt stood also. “The pack will be in your debt.”

  Yes, they would. “I’m going to ask a favor in return.” “Anything.”

  “That’s a sweeping promise to make an ancient.”

  Wyatt smiled. “I’m feeling reckless.”

  “If word gets out about what I’ve done, you buy me time.”

  “For what?”

  “To get to Teri and get her out. We’re bonded.”

  Wyatt didn’t look shocked. “I expected as much.”

  “You don’t seem surprised.”

  “I saw the extent of her injuries. Nothing short of a life bond would be enough for you to keep her alive.”

  “She wasn’t willing.” The penalty for that was death.

  “Then I guess before she has to come before me and accept your bond, you’ll have to convince her.”

  Daire noticed Wyatt didn’t give him a time frame in which the acceptance had to occur. It was strange having so much flexibility from an Alpha. Daire wasn’t even sure it was good, but he would take advantage of it.

  “I’ll handle Buddy.”

  “Then I’ll handle the rest.”

  Wyatt had to know that Daire could just as easily influence him as he could Buddy, but he didn’t see
any sign of worry. The Alpha trusted him. Damn.

  “Thank you.”

  Wyatt smiled and held out his hand. It was a distinctly human gesture. At Daire’s hesitation, Wyatt shrugged. “Heather says we need to incorporate some human traditions, one of them being accepting deals with a handshake.”

  Daire held out his hand. “Why?”

  “For one, she says it will help us blend within human society.”

  “And two?”

  Wyatt’s hand met his. “She says the tradition of acknowledging the sacrifices inherent in a deal with the respect of a handshake creates a bond.”

  Daire let go of Wyatt’s hand, the impression of his energy solid. Clean. “She has strange ideas.”

  Wyatt flexed his fingers. “But some of them are good.”

  Daire closed his in a fist. “So it would seem.”

  HE found Buddy in the local pool hall that served as a gathering area for the town. The door swept closed behind him, bathing him in a last breath of fresh air. There were no women in the hall. He could see why. In the thirty seconds he’d stood in the entryway, the scent of stale sweat, stale beer and stale cigarettes surrounded him in a gradual cloud. Under it all was the scent of testosterone. Men came here to play and to fight. He flexed his finger as his night vision flashed in and out with the rhythm of the neon signs in the window. He could accommodate the latter.

  A few men looked up as he approached, their courage bolstered by the illusion that their numbers protected them from his wrath. He tried to imagine Donovan’s mate, Lisa, walking this same path. Human, unprotected, intent on revenge, her anger might have carried her into the room on a foolish wave of courage, but the men here wouldn’t have seen her as a threat. She’d just be an annoyance to some. A potential toy to others.

  The bartender looked up as Daire reached the counter. He stopped rinsing a glass and set it in the sink. The scent of his nervousness reached Daire as the man reached under the bar. Catching his gaze, Daire shook his head. The man froze. Daire bared his teeth. The man brought his hands back up.