Wild Instinct

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by McCarty, Sarah


  His gaze didn’t flinch from hers. “It can’t be anyone else.”

  “Of course it can. They wouldn’t have raped me if there can’t be more than one; they wouldn’t have come hunting me.” There was a flicker in the energy blending with hers. “What?”

  He didn’t answer, just rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone. “Oh, my God, they didn’t come for me.”

  “You would have been a bonus.”

  “Sarah Anne.”

  Again that fluctuation in his energy that she was recognizing meant a negation. That left only three others. She remembered the wolf that had gone after Megan. There had been such determination in his eyes. Such hatred.

  Oh, no. “Megan. They want Megan.”

  “They won’t get her.”

  “Why?”

  “There’s a legend among the wolves about a child who will be of two worlds. A child of power.”

  She shook her head. “Megan can’t even change.”

  “Her power is not that of a wolf. That’s what scares them.”

  “But they tried to kill her.”

  “Some believe the child can be used. Others believe she’ll be the downfall of all pack. The legend is why wolves have no tolerance for telepaths.”

  “You’re a telepath.” It was strange to say that out loud.

  “Yes.”

  It was stranger to hear him agree as if that had no import. But he’d just told her that wolves didn’t tolerate telepaths, which meant he had not been tolerated. If anyone knew. “Did people try to kill you?”

  “No one succeeded.”

  Which wasn’t an answer. Teri rubbed her fingers across her scars. “It’s just a legend.”

  “A very old legend.”

  “That some believe.” She looked up. “Do you?”

  His gaze didn’t flinch from hers. “No.”

  There was no ripple in his energy.

  “I believe you.”

  “I cannot lie to you.”

  “So you keep telling me.”

  The corners of his mouth twitched. “In the hope that you’ll eventually believe.”

  Because he didn’t want her to know he could? Her head began to ache. She leaned against his chest as the weariness rose with the pain. “Will I ever get better?”

  “You almost are.”

  “It’s only been a few days!”

  His palm curved over her shoulder. “Then why are you complaining?”

  “I’m not.” But she was wondering. If he could do so much, why couldn’t he have done the thing that mattered? Why couldn’t he have saved her child? The question stuck in her throat.

  “You’re tired.”

  “Yes.” She suddenly was.

  “You shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.”

  “I had to.”

  He lifted her. “Had to?”

  There was no way to explain the waves of energy that had rolled over her, angry, relentless, chaos in need of order. How hard it had been to disassemble it. “Yes.”

  Her stomach rumbled as he laid her on the bed. She blushed. He smiled. “You’re hungry.”

  She was a doctor for all that she’d been a patient of late. “More signs of healing.”

  His hand slid under her T-shirt, covering the scars. With his head tilted down she could see the beauty of his face without the distraction of the scars. He was a very handsome man. A tingle of awareness went down her spine. He went to lift her shirt. She caught it in her hands.

  “What?”

  What was she supposed to say? That she didn’t want him to see how ugly they were after all this time? She let go. The hem rose. Her stomach sank. She closed her eyes. “Nothing.”

  His hands slid up her sides, encompassing her rib cage. He had such big hands.

  “Are you shy, seelie?”

  The question was followed by the touch of his lips. Since Teri didn’t want to answer such a leading question, she opted for one of her own. “What’s seelie mean?”

  “The one who holds my heart.”

  She wished she’d kept her mouth shut. “Oh.”

  Another kiss. A tightening of his hands. “You don’t think you hold my heart?”

  “I think you don’t know me well enough to even say I hold your big toe.”

  “That, my seelie, is the difference between human and wolf. A wolf is born with the knowledge he lives for his mate.”

  “Even when she’s not there?”

  “Yes.”

  She opened her eyes and looked down between her breasts to meet his gaze. “That’s so sad.”

  “Until the mate is found, yes, but then”—he lifted her to the press of his mouth—“ the waiting is as nothing compared to the joy of discovery.”

  “I don’t feel that joy.”

  “I know.” He kissed his way up the underside of her breast in light, airy caresses. It was purely a sexual gesture, so why did she feel so cherished?

  “I may never,” she gasped.

  “You’re my mate. There is no option for either of us.”

  “I’m human. Maybe I don’t play by the same rules.”

  His tongue curled around the tip of her breast. Fire shot through her body.

  “I’m adjusting to that.”

  He was adjusting? She leveraged her way up to her elbows. “I’m the one who’s been shanghaied into a life I didn’t ask for.”

  “And suffered for it.” His lips brushed the upper curve of her breast in a kiss of fire.

  How could she want him so when everything was so wrong? How could she want him when he wasn’t even human?

  “Is that what you want me to understand, Teri?” Another kiss, this time in the hollow of her throat. Her pulse took off. “That you have suffered for being my mate?”

  Was it? “Yes.” She wanted it to be yes, but he hadn’t been the one who had hurt her. He’d been the one who’d held her, fought for her. Protected her. “No.”

  He loomed above her. “Which is it?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  His face was so austere without the softness of his hair falling about it. He had beautiful hair, thick and wavy. Hair of which any woman would be jealous, and when it was loose it made him appear . . . human.

  “If I could go back in time, I would have been there the night the rogues attacked.”

  She knew what the red lights seeming to burn in his eyes meant. Rage.

  She remembered that night. How the door had splintered as if made of toothpicks, the noise, the chaos. She’d flicked on the light and the men had poured into the room with lazy grace that just enhanced the evil of their purpose. She hadn’t known how to kill a werewolf then. She’d stalled, worried about conserving bullets rather than inflicting maximum damage. And they’d taken over. Been so strong. Tossed her about as if she were no more substantial than a cotton ball. She’d felt so helpless, then and after. Bits and pieces of their expressions flashed in her mind, falling over one another in such rapid succession, she wasn’t sure she could identify any one of them.

  Daire interrupted her thoughts. “You don’t need to.”

  She blinked. “Yes, I do.” Because one day, she would find them.

  His hand cupped her cheek. “I have their faces now. I will find them.”

  And kill them.

  The knowledge should have appalled her, but it didn’t. Someone had to pay for that night. Someone had to make sure it didn’t happen again to someone else. But it didn’t have to be Daire. Those men had been so strong. And there were four while he was just one. She would die if she lost him. He was the one constant in her world now.

  The knowledge came out of nowhere, shocking. Comforting? Oh, God, she didn’t know who she was anymore. Reaching up, she yanked the rawhide tie from Daire’s hair, removing the warrior. He didn’t flinch, just stared at her as his hair fell forward, covering her, shielding her in darkness, but not from him. She would never escape from him.

  She bit her lips. It didn’t help. She couldn’t suppre
ss the sobs. They pushed up and out. Daire leaned down. The darkness grew deeper. “What is it, seelie?

  What did it matter if she told him? “I used to love the night, the sounds, the scents.”

  A sob broke off the rest.

  “But?” he prodded.

  “But I hate it now. It reeks of them.”

  There was a long pause. The tips of his fingers pressed delicately along her cheekbones. She felt the warmth of his lips on her temple, the probe of his energy at the edge of her consciousness.

  “I could give you back the night.”

  She shook her head. “Sex with you won’t make me forget.”

  His body jerked along hers. Had she finally succeeded in shocking him? Before all this she’d been a confident, outspoken woman. Nothing like the coward she was now. She looped her arms around his neck. He smelled so good. She buried her face in his throat. “But I wish it were possible.”

  His fingers pressed just a little bit harder. Her mind felt full, too full. She lost her train of thought.

  “I can take away the memory.”

  She blinked. She could just make out that fiery glow that transformed his eyes when he was angry or under stress.

  “It will be as if it never happened. No rape. No attack. No losing of the night.”

  It was so tempting. “Can you really do that?”

  His lips moved to her forehead. “Yes.”

  The warmth of the kiss sank through the coldness, spreading through the chill, replacing it with heat. Sexual yet . . . healing.

  It got harder to concentrate. A haze slipped over the past, taking away the pain, the knowledge. Taking away—

  She grabbed his wrist. “Stop it.”

  “Shh.”

  “No! You can’t.”

  “There’s no need for you to have the pain of memories better forgotten.”

  She held his wrist. “I don’t want to forget her.”

  He froze. The haze wavered. “Her?”

  “My daughter.” Tears wet her lashes. “I can’t forget without forgetting her.”

  “No.”

  That was a very cautious no. “She deserves to be remembered.”

  “I will hold her for you.”

  It wasn’t enough. If she couldn’t forget, then there was something she needed to know to heal. “Could you share her with me? I need to know what she was like.”

  “It will only build your sense of loss.”

  She doubled her hands into fists and pressed them against his chest. If he couldn’t give her this, she didn’t want anything. The spot between her neck and shoulder burned. “She was my daughter. No one should know more about her than me. No one.”

  Such a soft whisper to hold such fierceness, Daire thought. But his little human was very passionate about everything she cared about, and she was right. No one should know more about her child than she.

  “Open your mind.”

  She blinked. “I don’t know how.”

  He could do it for her. Stroking the hair off her face, he brushed his lips over her lashes. Instinct closed her eyes. A mother’s need kept them closed. He could feel her struggle to open her mind, wanting it so desperately she was blocking success. Emotion poured from her to him. His heart twisted in his chest. So much pain in his seelie’s life. So much unfulfilled want.

  “Just relax and let yourself float. This is my gift to you. You don’t have to do anything but let me give it to you.”

  Her lower lip slipped between her teeth. He shook his head and smiled. She was a stubborn woman, thinking she could control everything. He brushed his mind over hers, once, twice, letting her get used to the feel, getting used to it himself. He’d never touched another’s mind with anything other than a need to extract information, but this time he was going to merge, linger, share. With his mate. A shudder shook him from head to toe. He savored the sensations as his mind entered hers, that first tiny bit and energy, delicate and strong, wrapped around his. Oddly familiar. Addic tively feminine. He reached deep into his memory for that moment he’d touched the life force of her child. Try as he might, he couldn’t eliminate all the other memories wrapped within; her terror and pain rode the link, taking her back to that moment she’d lain on the cave floor bleeding out from the werewolf’s attack. Her terror flooded over her.

  “Don’t see that; see what’s within.”

  “What?”

  He did his best to mute the violence. He tried to focus on how the little girl had felt. She’d felt like . . . a bright spot in the middle of hell. “Look for the light in the darkness.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Just keep looking.”

  He knew the minute Teri found it. She drew in her breath, held it. Her hand reached up. He caught it in his. Linked as they were, he saw what she saw, felt what she felt, knew what she knew. That vibrant touch of new life. Pure emotion. Scared. Even at that tiny age, the child had known on an instinctive level that something was wrong.

  Teri’s nails dug into the back of his hand. “Daire.”

  “Yes.”

  “She’s so sweet.”

  “Yes.” The only thing he’d ever touched with his mind that had been sweeter was her.

  “And scared.” A sob ripped from her throat. “I told myself at least she’d been too young to know but, oh, God!”

  He didn’t know what to say. The infant’s understanding had been primitive, but—Teri’s grip tightened on his arm. Wonder and something else pushed the sadness out of her voice.

  “Daire . . .”

  “What?”

  “Thank you.”

  Their minds were linked and he didn’t understand her. How did nontelepathic werewolves manage their mates? “For what?”

  She tugged. He leaned down. Her arms came around his neck. Her tears saturated his shirt, heated his skin. “You gave her love.”

  Yes, he had. As best he could, everything inside him surrounding that tiny bit of life in a surge of protectiveness.

  “I tried.” He wasn’t sure he even understood what that was, so much of his life had been empty of anything other than duty and justice. Teri held him tighter. “She knew she was loved by you and”—her frown pressed her tears into his skin—“and someone else?”

  Ah, she’d felt that. “Megan.”

  “She’s that strong a telepath?”

  “Yes.”

  Her hands cupped his cheeks as her eyes opened. The connection to the past lessened. “Thank you.”

  She was throwing too much emotion at him. He shifted uncomfortably. “It’s just a memory.”

  She didn’t lessen her mental grip, didn’t let him go. He felt the calm spread over her as her green eyes darkened to emerald with gratitude and something else. “It was everything I needed.”

  Five

  THE next day Teri was ready to rejoin the living. It was amazing what a night with a werewolf could do for a woman. Even if all that wolf did was hold her close and soothe her fears. If Daire wasn’t careful, she could love him.

  Teri kicked the covers off her legs and stood. The lack of dizziness verified what she felt, and she definitely felt stronger today. Daire was right—she was healing quickly. The doctor in her couldn’t resist appreciating the miracle of that along with wondering how and why.

  Her clothes . . . well, not her clothes but the clothes somebody had lent her—the mysterious Heather, Wyatt’s wife, she thought—were folded on the chair. Daire hadn’t let anybody up in the room while she’d been recovering except Sarah Anne, and then only a couple times, which was ludicrous. What did he think the other women were going to do? Contaminate her with humanness? Too late; she’d been born human and no late-in-life conversion was likely to change everything. She looked around the room. Every variation in the paint, every shadow on the wall was too familiar. She definitely needed to change her environment.

  Downstairs she could hear the murmur of feminine voices interspersed with quickly hushed laughter. No doubt Daire had left strict ins
tructions that she not be disturbed, but considering Daire was out with Kelon and Donovan hunting the wolf that had gotten away yesterday, this was a perfect opportunity to explore her surroundings.

  She picked up the jeans. They were two sizes too small, but with the eternal hope that all women have when faced with their ideal size, she tried them on. She blinked. They fit. Jeans this size never fit. Not outside her daydreams. She tested the waistband. Not tight at all. She really had lost a lot of weight. Part of her wanted to look in the mirror; part of her didn’t dare. Was she a scarecrow? The bra was a little small. Well, at least she had fat where it counted. She pulled a T-shirt on over it with a shrug. She was just going to pretend she looked gorgeous. It would give her more confidence.

  Her strength didn’t last as long as she’d hoped. She felt like an old woman descending the stairs, holding on to the railing, not sure if her legs were going to support her the entire distance. By the time she got to the landing, she was shaking. She leaned against the wall, taking a moment to regulate her breathing.

  She could hear the women in the den. She had a now-or-never feeling about this moment. A small plump woman with brown hair came around the corner. She had a very gentle aura about her and a very winning smile.

  “Well, hello.”

  Teri smiled and tried to steady her breath. “Hi.”

  “Decided to join the living, did you?”

  “Yes.”

  Two more women came out of the room. They all had the same brown hair, smooth skin, blue eyes. One had her hair pulled back in a ponytail and flashed an easy smile. The other was thinner and had an intensity about her that made a body want to stand up straight.

  “I’m not sure if she decided to join the living or leave her jailer.” The thinner woman came forward and held out her hand. “I’m Heather and this is our sister Lisa.”

  Teri let go of the wall and took Heather’s hand. “Teri.”

  There was no way she could hide the trembling in her hand. Heather’s eyes narrowed. This close, Teri could see they were more hazel than blue.

  “Do you want to sit?” Heather asked.

  “Yes, please.”

  “Upstairs or down?”

 

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