Betrayed: Book Two - The Road to Redemption

by Nicky Charles

  The sound of material rubbing against material seemed abnormally loud as he removed her jeans. Damien remained silent, but in the dim light she was sure she could see the approval in his gaze.

  He caressed her calf and kissed her knee before moving higher. Stroking her thighs, he nibbled on her hipbone, then nuzzled the crease of her thigh. She combed her fingers through his hair, cradling his head, guiding him to where she needed him most.

  When he touched her, she bit her lip, barely able to hold back the cry of pleasure that rose in her throat. Tenderly, skilfully he played with her, bringing her to the brink and then pushing her over.

  As she floated back to reality, he stood and removed his clothing. In the dim light, she marvelled at the beauty of his form as each inch was revealed. Narrow hips, strong thighs dusted with hair. His need for her was evident, proud and erect. When he approached the bed, she had to sit up and touch him, to feel the hot silky skin that encased his hardness, to stroke and bring him pleasure as he’d done to her.

  He closed his eyes as she caressed him, gently rocking against her palm, a low rumble of pleasure sounding in his chest. She swirled her tongue in his belly button, traced the intriguing ‘V’ of his abdomen. Pressed kisses, hot and wet to throbbing flesh. When he could stand it no longer he took control again, pressing her back onto the mattress.

  Damien’s hands were warm and rough as they kneaded her breasts, his mouth hot and avid on her nipples, tugging, nipping. The tiny pain shot to her core and she felt herself growing moister. Her body begging for his possession. She wriggled under him, pulling at his hips, urging him to take her.

  He kneeled over her, and when he stared down into her eyes, it was as if the wolf in him was looming over her. Submitting did not come naturally, yet this was not the time to be concerned about dominance; tonight was for comforting, for sharing, for healing the pain they both had inside. She parted her thighs, inviting him to take her.

  And he did. Settling into place, he probed, found her opening and began to slide inside. She trembled, holding her breath, focused on the sensation of him easing into her, sliding deeper, filling the ache within.

  “I’m sorry about last time.” He whispered the words as he penetrated her flesh.

  She shook her head. “It was my idea.”

  “But—”

  She pressed a silencing kiss to his lips.

  He began to move, sliding in and out again and again. It was exquisite torture, the brushing of his hardness over her sensitive nub. Slowly at first, then faster as the tension began to grow.

  Their kiss turned hard, his tongue possessing her mouth just as he possessed her body.

  She clutched his back, holding on, her nails raking his flesh, her breath becoming pants. The exquisite feeling inside her grew, her muscles tightened unbearably until she was hovering in a place where only feeling existed. Her vision blurred, her lips parted in a silent shout of ecstasy and then, then she spiralled out of control.

  Damien woke the next morning, his body spooning Sam’s. His hand cupped her breast and he idly stroked the smooth slope feeling completely relaxed. He was awake but drifting, no particular thought in his head. Unusual. Instant alertness was the norm for him.

  Sam sighed in her sleep, wriggled her body closer to his. Her short hair feathered across the back of her neck and he could see glimpses of her tattoo. Duty, strength… There was a new one there and he released her breast, sliding his hand up to move her hair out of the way, wondering what she’d decided the third quality of an Alpha was.

  Love.

  He traced over the word, frowning. Not what he would have expected.

  Sam rolled over, her features relaxed with sleep. “Morning.” Languidly, she reached up and brushed his hair from his forehead. “Mmm… I haven’t slept that well in ages.”

  “Me, either.” He smiled softly. She nestled her head against his chest, her fingers splayed on his chest, slowly stroking, circling his nipple.

  Her attentions were rousing his body. It had been three years since he’d woken up with a woman in his arms. Three years since he’d held Beth. A twinge of guilt stabbed his conscience. He must have made a sound for Sam quit her teasing movements.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” He noticed the night stand with his wallet. Beth’s picture was there. For the past three years, he’d greeted her each morning. Today, he hadn’t.

  Did she know? Was she hurt?

  No.

  Beth had told him it was time to move on. He compressed his lips, the memory still fresh enough to cause a small wave of grief.

  “Damien?” Sam raised herself up on her elbow. “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah.” He swallowed hard. Sam was watching him, concern in her eyes. “I see you added your third tattoo.”

  She nodded.

  “Why love? Why not wisdom or integrity or…?”

  “Well…” She sat up and hugged her knees, staring thoughtfully across the room. “Those are needed, but love is the most important. You can do your duty but if you don’t love your pack you can become bitter and resentful. And you need love to temper the strength so you aren’t too harsh or dictatorial.”

  “That makes sense.” He sat up and pressed a kiss to her nape. “I’m glad you were able to figure it out.”

  “Thanks.” She twisted to face him, a happy glow shining in her eyes. “I want you to come back to Chicago with me.”

  He blinked. He hadn’t thought that far ahead. “Chicago?”

  “Yes, Chicago. That’s my home.” She didn’t add ‘duh’ but he could see it on her face.

  Chicago. Did he want to go back there? To be part of a pack, to have to care about people and have them depending on him to always be there? He stalled for time. “In what capacity?”

  A smile curved her lips. She stroked his arm, watching her fingers travel its length. “My Beta? My lover?” Her hand rested on his heart now and she raised her eyes to his. “My…mate?”

  Mate. The word had him holding his breath. Beth was…had been…his mate. Taking another had never entered his mind and yet… He hesitated. How do you know when it’s time to let go? To move on?

  His silence must have unsettled her for she spoke in a rush, her eyes earnest, intent. “If you’re worried about the infertility problem, I doubt it will affect me. Since my father mated outside the pack, my genes are more varied and we should be able to have as many pups as we want.”

  Pups. The word sent a chill through him. He’d lost one child already. What if something happened? The pain would be more than he could bear.

  “Damien?” She removed her hand from his chest. “Never mind.” She turned her face away. “Apparently, I read more into last night than I should have.” She climbed out of bed and began searching for her clothes.

  He blinked and pulled himself out of his introspection. “Sam, it’s not you…”

  “Yeah. I know. It’s Beth. You still love her and I can’t compare.” She tugged on her jeans and pulled her sweater over her head. “It’s the story of my life. You. My grandfather.”

  “It’s not about Beth.”

  “Sure.” She grabbed her boots. “I laid my heart on the line, Damien, and you didn’t grab it. You snooze, you lose.”

  “What?” He pushed back the covers and swung his legs out of bed.

  “Thanks for last night. It was fun.”

  “Sam, wait!” He reached out to catch hold of her arm but she evaded him.

  “Wait for what?”

  “For…” He dragged his hand through his hair, his mind racing, not sure what to say.

  She arched one brow, hands planted on her hips. When he didn’t continue, a flush appeared on her cheekbones and temper sparked in her eye. “For another screw? No thanks. I can get one of those any time I want.” Her lip curled and she flicked a derisive look over his naked body before shaking her head and turning away.

  “It wasn’t just screwing.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.” She
glanced about the room as if looking for something then gave a shrug and reached for the door.

  “Sam!” His heart rate began to quicken, a sick dread filling him as he realized her intent.

  She didn’t respond. Not even a ‘fuck you’. The door slammed shut behind her, leaving him to stare at the marred wooden surface. He could hear her booted feet stomping down the stairs; she didn’t slow down or hesitate even once.

  Swearing, he strode to the window looking out just in time to see her storming across the street. She got into a nondescript grey car and drove off. If the road hadn’t been snow covered, she likely would have squealed her tires in a declaration of her anger. As it was, the vehicle fishtailed slightly when she turned the corner.

  Sam had left him.

  Chapter 37

  Stunned at the turn of events, Damien looked blankly around the room, seeing the bed they’d shared, noting her knit cap lying forgotten on the ground. Bending over, he picked up the cap and stared at it. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what had just happened. They’d been in bed talking about her tattoo and then…

  He tossed the cap down. Hell, what had she been thinking, springing a question like that on him and expecting an answer right away?

  Grumbling, he got dressed and headed downstairs, not sure what he’d do but needing to get out of the room, away from her scent, away from the memories of last night.

  The bar was empty except for Armand. He was morosely staring into a teacup. Damien hesitated and then sat down beside the man. Misery loved company.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  Armand pushed the teapot his way.

  Damien looked at it suspiciously and then shrugged. Why not. He reached over the bar and snagged a cup and then poured some of the steaming liquid. A tentative taste had him wanting to spit.

  “What is this?”

  “Herbal tea. Pine needles, some roots and bark. My own recipe.”

  Damien looked at the vile brew. No wonder it tasted like turpentine.

  Armand drained his own cup and poured another before finally shifting his attention from his drink to the man beside him. “You look sad, my friend.”

  He shrugged. Sad? Damien hadn’t thought of it that way. Pissed off. Confused. Lost perhaps…

  “The woman who came to visit you last night, the meeting didn’t go well?”

  “It did. For a while. But this morning… Not so good.” He took another sip of the tea. It didn’t taste so bad, once you got used to it. Or maybe his taste buds had died after the first mouthful.

  “Ah! The morning after.” Armand nodded wisely. “Regret often raises its ugly head when the sun rises. Many of my customers suffer from this.”

  Regret? Did he regret making love to Sam?

  “You should listen to your inner animal,” Armand added. “Many years ago, I did not. I let my lady leave. I thought too long and too hard even though my animal urged me to act.”

  “What happened?”

  The bartender sighed and returned to looking glumly into his cup. “It was too late.”

  Too late. Damien sipped his drink. Was he thinking too long and too hard?

  “If I could do it again, I would have followed her. Demanded that she stay with me.”

  The bear is correct, his wolf decided. We should follow her. We’ve been alone too long. It is not the way we are supposed to be.

  Damien swirled the remains of his tea in his cup. Was he feeling guilty for betraying Beth, or was he afraid to face the future? Hadn’t Beth pretty much given him her blessing last night? If their positions had been reversed, would he have wanted Beth to spend the rest of her life alone?

  No.

  He’d loved her too much to wish that fate on her. So it must be fear that was keeping him glued to his seat. He was afraid to care. Afraid to risk being hurt again.

  His wolf curled its lip. Fear should be beneath us. We don’t live our life cowering like a pup. Perhaps I should take control again and do what must be done.

  The animal would try it, too. Of that Damien had no doubt. He’d spent enough years of his life battling the beast inside. The human half might be in control, but concessions to the wolf were sometimes needed. Especially if the wolf was right.

  “Thanks, Armand.” Damien set down the cup and got to his feet.

  Armand looked at him out of the corner of his eye and gave an approving nod. “You are going after her. If you don’t return, I will give your things to Ryne.”

  “Thanks.” Damien clapped the man on the shoulder. “I hope you find a replacement for the lady you lost.”

  The werebear gave a small nod. “I am getting tired of waiting. Soon I will act.”

  Damien left the bar and got into his small rental. He hated cars, but the winter roads were no place for a motorcycle so he’d left his in storage before heading north.

  It had been at least half an hour since Sam had left. Thankfully, there was only one paved road leading into Stump River so it wasn’t hard to know which way she’d gone. With any luck he’d catch up with her before she hit a main highway.

  The roads were snow covered, not impassable but they required a judicious use of the gas pedal and both hands on the steering wheel. About ten minutes out of town, he caught sight of skid marks veering off the road into a drift. Only the bumper of the car was visible but he had an awful suspicion that…

  It was Sam.

  Her car was at a 45 degree angle, half buried in a snowdrift, part of the undercarriage showing. He eased his car off the road, his heart pounding with fear. The fates couldn’t do this to him.

  As fast as possible, he clambered through the thigh deep drifts, each step an effort. An icy crust had formed over the surface and it crunched and crackled as he pushed his way through. Snow seeped into his boots, numbing his toes and soaking his clothing.

  “Sam? Sam, are you okay?” He called her name and it echoed across the frozen wasteland. Only the howling of the winter wind answered him with a low, lonely sound. His breath came out in puffs of steam, his eyes watering as the sunlight gleamed off the thousands of sparkling ice crystals.

  He imagined her unconscious, slumped over the steering wheel, blood dripping from her head. Was he too late? Was she already…dead?

  When he finally reached the vehicle, he hoisted himself up so he could see inside, bracing himself for the worst. He pushed the snow from the window and looked inside.

  The car was empty.

  For a moment he was shocked, then relief seeped in as he saw no sign of blood, then worried once again as he wondered where she might have gone. He slid back onto the ground and slowly turned in a circle. Miles of nothing stretched out on all sides as far as the eye could see.

  Damien tested the air, trying to pick up her scent. His frozen nostrils strained to detect anything in the icy air. He began to move in a circular pattern, constantly widening his search, knowing she had to have gone somewhere. When he finally caught a trace of her scent, it was accompanied by the blurred remains of a set of wolf tracks heading straight down the center of the road.

  He cursed.

  Hadn’t she ever heard that you were supposed to stay with your vehicle in situations like this? What was she planning on doing? Walking all the way to the next pocket of civilization? Did she even know how far it was or which way to go? Had she even thought to check the weather forecast? The temperatures were supposed to drop to near record lows that night.

  Climbing back in his car, he began to follow her trail. While his wolf might want to chase her down on foot, it wasn’t a smart move. Sam would be cold and tired when he found her and the car would provide some shelter, plus it came with a winter survival kit that included blankets and packets of food.

  Eventually he spotted a small white wolf trotting down the middle of the road acting as if it owned the place. As he drove nearer she veered to the side of the highway, no doubt hearing him approaching and thinking the random vehicle behind her would just pass by. He slowed to a crawl, rolled
his window down and called out her name.

  “Sam!”

  There was hardly a break in her stride. If it wasn’t for the way her ears twitched and her chin lifted, he might have even wondered if she’d heard him. Little spitfire.

  He pulled alongside her. “Sam.”

  She ignored him.

  “Sam, talk to me.”

  When she still didn’t acknowledge him, he gave an exasperated huff, sped ahead, pulled the car to the side and got out. Standing in the middle of the road, he faced her.

  “Sam, this is ridiculous. It’s miles to the nearest town. You’ll be lucky to make it by nightfall and you don’t know the terrain well enough to find shelter for the night. What if you stumble upon a regular wolf pack? They won’t be happy to have you invading their territory.”

  The wolf stopped. It glared at him, looked away and then sneezed not bothering to hide its disgust that his words made sense. The air shimmered and Sam stood before him. She didn’t say a word, merely stalking to the passenger side of his car and getting in. The door slammed shut after her with sufficient force to make the entire vehicle rock.

  He rolled his eyes and got in the driver’s seat. Resting his hands on the steering wheel, he waited for her to speak. When she didn’t comment, or even deign to look at him, he clenched his jaw and started to drive.

  After about five minutes of silence she finally gave in. “Where are we going?”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “Chicago of course.”

  “Good.”

  “Why? Can’t wait to get rid of me?”

  “No.” He paused and then slid a look her way. “That’s where I’m headed, too.”

  She swung her head around to look at him. He focused on driving, holding back a pleased grin. Now he had her attention.

  “Why are you going to Chicago?” She asked the question slowly, tentatively.