by Vivian Arend
It was his third time returning from the kitchens, and he’d made it a personal challenge to take a different route every time. Coming back with coffee that morning had been a straightforward trip. Lunch—he’d gotten turned around once before finding his way. Addie nodded her thanks then proceeded to eat her sandwich one-handed as she continued to work.
This time he’d found a side passage off a side passage, but after working his way through a labyrinth of stone, he was no closer to where he needed to be and getting antsy at having been gone for too long.
The lingering scents were muted, as if he’d stumbled upon a rarely used section of the manor, and from the thick layer of dust everywhere, that was probably true. The only thing visible underfoot was a set of oversized prints. Not big enough for a tiger, but definitely a cat, especially after he’d followed them a ways and discovered a pile of mouse carcasses.
Maybe he wouldn’t bring Addie on this route anytime soon.
He hurried down the passageway, jerking to a stop as it dead-ended at a plain, wooden barrier.
“Hell.” There had to be a way out. Damon leaned on the wall with a shoulder, jumping back as it swung to the right to reveal a familiar carpeted foyer. He rushed forward, glancing back as the secret door closed behind him with a soft sigh.
Yup, this place was full of surprises. Like the enormous housecat pretending to be a statue on the antique sideboard, a dark shadow falling across its body and partially hiding it from sight.
Damon didn’t give a rip if there were a million cats in the house stalking him at this point; he wanted to get back to Addie. To protect her, yes, but more as well. No matter how much he told himself to cool it, his craving for her grew stronger.
He ignored the oversized cat when it jumped to the carpet as he passed, its feet hitting the floor with a gentle thump. Damon strode forward, considering his powerful case of possessiveness as he closed the distance on his target.
He was strong enough to lead his own pack, but hadn’t wanted the responsibility, so going lone wolf years ago had seemed the smartest choice. But hanging around Addie for most of the day had done something bizarre to his system. He knew what it was like to feel protective—he’d always had that instinct in spades. He was here to keep her safe.
This was about something else. Something…deeper. Maybe?
One decision was simple. Although his wolf was acting capital-W weird, Damon would do what was right. He’d take care of Addie, whatever that looked like.
Ahead of him, he caught a glimpse of a dark pant leg disappearing around the corner. He sped up, his feet narrowly missing the cat that slipped in front of him. It swerved at the last moment, hissing before dashing out of reach back down the hallway.
He moved more cautiously, catching Alastair leaning against the exterior wall of the smoking room, one eye pressed nearly to the wooden paneling. Damon snuck up until he was behind the man, then coughed.
Alastair flew upward, spinning in midair before landing with his hands raised, claws out. He blinked hard before jerking upright. His furious, fearful glare switching to his arrogant one. “Damon.”
“Alastair. Can I help you?”
The man shook his head, shuffling sideways until he was no longer between Damon and the wall. “Thought I’d stop by to see how you and Addie were getting along.” He smiled, but the expression never reached his eyes. “It takes a certain kind of man to handle a woman like her.”
As if implying Damon wasn’t that kind of man. The insinuation wasn’t the most annoying part, though. Damon gave zero fucks what Alastair thought of him. The idea of the other man handling Addie, or any woman for that matter…
Alastair and guys like him were the reason castration had been invented.
So Damon didn’t answer. Just stood in place and stared and stared until the other man cleared his throat, pivoted on the spot and paced away as if he weren’t scared to death.
Damon waited until the echoes of Alastair’s footsteps fell silent before examining the wall more closely. The section was covered with elaborate carvings, and he put down the coffee cups to find what he was looking for.
There, at eye height, was a spyhole. A small section of paneling slid aside and offered a view into the room. Alastair had been watching Addie work.
Creepy, she’d said. Downright freaky, as far as Damon was concerned.
He slipped into the room without telling her what he’d discovered. After how jittery he’d made her that morning, and with her already being concerned about the boys’ stalker tendencies, he figured he’d save it for a better moment.
“Coffee?”
Addie smiled as she took the drink. “That took a while. You run into any ghosts out there?”
Not unless ghosts wore Armani. “Nope. Nothing interesting at all.”
He retreated to a corner, staying out of her way as much as possible to watch her work for the rest of the afternoon.
She moved so smoothly it was as if she danced around the room, shifting aside one object to examine the one behind it. Or she’d pick up a statue or a plate to check the bottom, but more often than not she simply looked. Her big whisky-coloured eyes would land on an object, then she’d blink, her lips would twitch into a smile, and she’d make a note.
Sometimes it took less than a second. The longest was about ten. She was absolutely amazing, and Damon found her mesmerizing.
When the alarm on her watch went off, she glanced at her wrist in surprise before her shoulders curled forward and she exhaled, a happy sound. It was one he’d like to hear over and over, especially if he were the one getting her to voice her pleasure.
It was the longest Damon’d sat in one place for ages, but it had been an enjoyable afternoon. Watching her—something about it was so right. “You must be tired.”
“Oh!” She whirled, her hand flying to her chest for a second. “I forgot you were there.”
“Good. That means I wasn’t bothering you.”
She shook her head before stretching, linking her fingers together and reaching for the ceiling. “You were fine.”
Damon let his gaze drift over her gentle curves as her dark brown sweater stretched in intriguing ways. He longed to go over and give her a rub. He’d start at her shoulders and neck, then work his way down to more sensitive spots. He could make her forget about those aching muscles for a bit and—
His wolf snapped a warning, and he jerked his gaze away before she noticed. What the heck? After staying hidden all day, now his beast chose to interfere? And it was pretty clear what his other half was thinking. His wolf didn’t want her frightened or upset again by his actions.
Great. His animal side was giving him lessons in manners.
He rose and moved toward Addie, mindful to keep his body language casual. “Please tell me we don’t have to eat dinner with the conspiracy twins,” he begged.
She laughed. “You’re safe. The cook has been leaving me a cold supper in the fridge. I asked at breakfast if she’d leave extra for you. Or, you know, you’re welcome to cook for us.”
“I can cook. I cook great,” Damon responded so quickly she raised a brow before breaking into a soft laugh.
Damn it, if he wagged his tail a little harder she might pet his puppy, and that wasn’t a euphemism for anything. He just felt…out of sorts all of a sudden. Out of sorts and yet desperate for her approval.
She gestured toward the door. “Why don’t you lead the way? It’s a big house. I’ll feel better once I know you won’t get lost.”
“Aww, you’re worried about me.”
“Of course. The way Alastair talks, sinister beings wait around every corner to lure you to your death. And Niall—?” She shook her head. “Sometimes when he talks about restoring the place to its ancient glory, I wonder if he means to include the dungeons.”
Interesting. He held the door for her then caught up, guiding her without touching even though he wanted to take her hand. “I explored when I was out earlier. The manor does need work.
”
Anything to keep the conversation rolling. If all he got was to listen to her voice, he’d take it.
“Repairs? It does, but spending the money and time to fix it up only for the one percent to enjoy?” A heavy sigh escaped her. “It would be a shame to burn it down, as well.”
Damon took a side passage, different than the one he’d discovered coming back with their coffees. “So, tell me. What would you do with a Scottish castle if you had one?”
“Are you giving me a Scottish castle?” she asked, her lighthearted tease thrilling him. She gestured at the passing windows, and the rich greens and vivid blues outside. “Sterling-Wylde is in such an idyllic setting, and with the lake and the woods nearby, it would make a beautiful retreat. A place for lone wolves, or solitary bears. Fox shifters without partners—that kind of thing.”
“You’d fill it with recluses.”
“Yes, and no. Shifters who need space, because there’s enough room here to get away and yet stay in contact with others. That’s important.” She glanced at him, something all too knowing in her eyes. “Even lone wolves need others.”
Damon didn’t answer because anything he said might give him away. He wondered if maybe his friend Jim had told her details about him, but as they grabbed dinner from the fridge to take to their room, he remembered her earlier confusion regarding his job situation and knew that hadn’t been faked.
She knew about him; she didn’t know him. Yet she had figured out something personal just from being in the same room all day.
Was he as easy to catalog as an heirloom pipe?
They remained silent on the trip from the kitchen to the tower room where Damon set their tray of food and drink on the balcony table. The sun was a long ways from setting, still high above the mountains, its light casting a golden tint to the sky. The glow reflected on the surface of the water, turning the lake to a shimmering mirror. Magical, especially when he added in the peaceful noises around them. Birds, and crickets, and little critters wrestling in the long grass.
Addie put down her spoon and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she cocked her head to the side and listened to the cooing doves. “Just think if stressed-out, hurried people got to soak this in for a while. It could do them a whole lot of good.” She opened her eyes and offered him a faint smile. “It does me good. I like my job, but you’re right about my bad habit. I never take coffee breaks, or things like that. I tend to work straight through, although I do refresh myself in the evening.”
He couldn’t resist any longer. He laid a hand over her fingers, a flash of heat rolling up his arm as if he’d touched a live wire. “Addie—”
She jerked her hand away, placing it in her lap, her fingers locked together as she stared over the railing away from him. “I meant to ask earlier. To confirm there’s no problem with you staying on for a while?”
“I am your humble servant.” He said it without a trace of sarcasm. In fact if anything, there was far too much other emotion in the words, as if it were impossible to resist letting her know how much he wanted her.
Damon’s wolf snapped at him again.
He backed off though he longed to go around the table and pull her into his arms. To tilt her chin back, press their lips together and take another taste. The light reflected on her skin, turning her all warm and soft in the setting sun, and what he wanted most of all was to—
His wolf vanished.
Between one second and the next the other part of him that had always been around threw up its paws and pulled into the deepest recesses of his mind. Damon clutched the table, trying to catch his balance. Trying to understand and deal with the strange lack inside.
“Are you okay?” Addie leaned closer. “What’s wrong?”
He shook his head. “Indigestion. Excuse me.”
He escaped to the bathroom, desperate to figure out what had just happened. He stared into the mirror and watched his eyes as he attempted to summon the other part of himself.
He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pull his wolf to the foreground.
The beast was still there, hiding as it pouted. “Good grief, what the hell is wrong with you?” Damon demanded, glaring at himself and thinking how incredibly stupid he must look.
Sending out a shot of Alpha power did absolutely nothing. He hadn’t expected it to since that was basically like arguing with himself. He stripped down and tried to force a change, but his wolf snapped back and told him to go away. He didn’t feel sick, but maybe this was the start of some exotic and rare wasting disease contracted by being doused in Scottish swamp water at a cursed castle.
His wolf popped up for just a moment to offer the assurances that they aren’t sick and this isn’t forever, and then the beast shut down so hard Damon’s ears rang.
He’d barely finished pulling his clothes back on when a hesitant knock sounded on the door. He opened it to discover Addie’s gorgeous brow was creased with concern as her gaze darted over him.
“Are you sure you’re all right?”
There was nothing else to be done. Damon lied his ass off. “It’s jet lag. Time to turn in.”
Addie nodded, backing into the room. She cast a nervous glance at the bed before smiling sweetly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’m going to read for a few hours before I call it a day.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. “You’re not making me sleep on the couch?”
She shook her head. “Number one, I basically cheated to beat you at chess, and two, you would never fit. The couch was built in seventeen forty-two, and you’re far too tall.”
Damon had no energy to gloat over his good luck in being taller than the eighteenth-century castle occupants. He barely had enough strength to offer a protest.
“I’m not letting you sleep on it. I’ll take the floor.”
“Take the bed,” Addie insisted. “I’ll…join you later. It’ll be fine.”
She was full of surprises, and if he weren’t about to fall over he would have had more to say. He’d pulled the jet-lag ticket, but a wave of true exhaustion had hit, so he stripped off his borrowed kilt and linen shirt, tossing them over the heavy wooden support at the foot of the bed. “I promise I’ll wake up if you need me. If the ghosts or the boys come calling, I’ll protect you.”
His head barely hit the pillow before utter exhaustion dragged him under, and while he kept his word and stayed moderately alert, the only thing that brought him to attention was nearly four hours later when Addie jumped on the bed in her wolf form, turning around twice before settling at his side.
Beautiful, smart, clever woman. Damon was impressed even as he was thoroughly perplexed.
What the hell was his wolf doing?
Chapter Four
Damon slowly came awake to the awareness his fingers were tangled in soft fur. The dim light of dawn was creeping into the corners of the massive room, but it was bright enough for him to see the dark wolf curled against him.
A quick glance at the clock on the sideboard showed it was just after four a.m. Two windows of the tower room faced east, and soon the chamber would be filled with sunshine. Astonished he’d slept as long as he had, some of his absolute relaxation had to do with the woman sleeping peacefully in her shifted form at his side.
He leaned up on an elbow, curious to examine her closer. Such a beautiful black wolf, with little white socks on her front paws. Damon could picture her hitting them against the ground to get his attention or batting him playfully. He reached inside himself to figure out what the heck was wrong with his wolf. The beast simply rolled over once before declaring everything was fine as far as he was concerned, but he wasn’t going to show up anytime soon.
Funny how that wasn’t very reassuring…
Today while he watched Addie, Damon would check the Internet to see if there’d ever been mention of others experiencing an internal wolf rebellion. He didn’t want to alert anyone something might be wrong. He didn’t want his family to freak out, but maybe this was worthy of freak
-out territory. His wolf was a big part of him, and for the beast to go into hiding—there had to be a damn good reason.
And as much as he wanted to stay in bed and keep staring at the pretty little wolf beside him, he needed to burn off some energy.
He checked his clothes in the bathroom where he’d hung them to dry, but the jeans had seen better days. They’d been ripped to shreds along one leg so that when he pulled them on, he looked like the tramp the Sterling-Wylde boys thought he was. Normally he’d shift into his wolf to go for a run, but that option wasn’t available at the moment.
Well, he’d dealt with worse. Damon reached for another kilt and linen shirt, laughing softly as he pulled them on. It seemed he was going local for the next while. At least, if he did meet a ghost or two, he’d fit right in.
He locked the door after one final glance at Addie’s form on the bed, her ribs rising and falling in a peaceful rhythm as she slumbered on. Then he made his way outside where he took off his boots and wiggled his toes in the dew-wet grass, the manicured lawn before him stretching into the distance. Groomed trees lay to his right and the lake to his left, and he started slowly before breaking into a full-out run, pushing his body hard.
As weird as his wolf was acting, he was glad he was here. He’d hated to see the anxiety in Addie’s eyes, and if nothing else, he had no objection to sticking around to make her job easier. His heart pounded as he ran, but other than his wolf being an ass, physically he felt fine. He was sure he could protect her even with whatever was wrong with him.
Damon ran for an hour until the sun peeked over the nearest hillock, casting long shadows as it filtered through the trees. The sky grew brighter, and the world around him turned into a fantasyland of pixie dust and Scottish legend.
He’d looped around the perimeter of the estate and was nearing the watchtower by the southern entrance when he came across a small gate in the tall rock wall. The door was ajar, and he peeked through to discover a group of thatched cottages, smoke pouring from the chimneys. A young man worked a rake outside one of them. He must’ve sensed Damon because he glanced up and their eyes met. The worker waved then beckoned him over.