Heart Of The Wolf (Eye Of The Storm #3)

by Dianna Hardy

  He'd like to stick his cock in her. Making someone like her submit would be a blissful kind of struggle, he was sure.

  So, it was a good job he'd been eavesdropping.

  It was a good job and a remarkable coincidence that they happened to be heading exactly where he was heading, although he'd get there a little bit later … with back-up and a leash for a storm-wielder. Maybe there'd be time to play, too.

  He rubbed his stiff erection through his black slacks, aching to jack off, but knowing that saving all that precious energy for tonight would be a better reward.

  Full moons.

  You had to love them.

  Chapter Eleven

  Taylor closed the front door behind him, feeling both productive and uneasy. It had been a good day working out on the land – they'd gotten a lot done – but the uneasiness had been with him all day, and he put it down to the full moon, and the fact that they had a very difficult meeting ahead of them. It didn't help that Ryan wasn't here.

  Also, he hadn't caught sight of Lydia around. The wolf in him hated not knowing where she was.

  He stopped at the bottom of the stairs, on high alert, wondering what had caught him off-guard. It took him a good minute to figure it out: Lawrence's door was open. He could only just make it out from this angle on the ground floor, but it was clearly not shut, and it was always shut.

  With skin prickled and making his hairs rise, he ascended the stairs silently, ready to strike in any direction if necessary.

  Nothing smelled untoward.

  So why did he feel so anxious?

  At the top of the third flight, and a few yards from Lawrence's bedroom door, he spied the man, shoulders slumped and sitting on the edge of his bed. He looked like the world had just ended.

  “Okay to come in?” he called out.

  His head moved slightly towards him, then turned back to position.

  Okay then…

  Taylor made his way in, slowly and cautiously, sensing grief all around him, and pain. Both of which he was familiar with. What the fuck happened?

  By the wardrobe on the floor, a prosthetic leg lay fallen, and a photo frame lay smashed. He wasn't close enough to see what the photo was of, but Lydia's aroma filled the room to the brim and that spoke volumes because no one ever entered Lawrence's room except Lawrence.

  He paused to the right of the older wolf. “Do I need to get the sledgehammer? Or marshmallows?”

  Lawrence's eyebrows flattened straight into his 'slightly peeved off' look. That was good. Any reaction was better than no reaction at all.

  Taylor cleared his throat. “The meeting's in an hour – are you going to be oka—”

  “I fucked up.”

  “Yes, I'm getting that sense.”

  “I fucked up big time.”

  He sighed, and rubbed his head. Ryan was soooo much better in these kinds of situation, which was kinda surprising given his brutish nature, but he'd learnt over the nine months he'd spent here that there were a lot of hidden facets to the big guy. “Er … do I want to know what you did?”

  His voice dropped to a whisper. “I took something away from someone; something I can't give back.”

  And he'd bet that someone was Lydia.

  Taylor all at once decided he didn't want to know the details. He needed to remain impartial. The human in him could be, the mate in him couldn't. The mounting urge to beat the living daylights out of Lawrence until he confessed every single thing he'd done to Lydia was borderline psychotic. And maybe it was a good thing Ryan wasn't here after all.

  But there was one thing he had to know, and his words were strained because all his muscles were contracted in a bid to not lunge at Lawrence. “Was she all right when she left you?”

  Lawrence looked at him.

  Shit. He looked totally fucked. “I don't know. I think so – or, maybe not. She didn't express anger.”

  Which means he thought she should have. He'd have to hear this from Lydia, not Lawrence, if he wanted to leave the man in one piece. He balled his fists and collected himself, took a deep breath, then moved to the front of him and knelt down. “As you can probably gather, a fairly large part of me wants to punch you in the face right now. I'm not going to do that, and I'm guessing it's for the same reason Lydia didn't show her anger. I've had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of her right hook, by the way – she's perfectly capable of delivering.”

  No response.

  “You want to be beaten, pummelled and driven away, so you have a reason to shut everyone out, and say 'I told you so' when it all goes to shit. The thing is, we all fuck up. All of us. Regularly. And living is painful because of it. Because we all fuck up. What makes us stronger is getting back on our feet – irony intended – and doing it all over again until we get it right. And Lydia's going to make you strong, Lawrence. She's going to make you a fucking superhero.

  “So, get on your feet, go find her and keep doing whatever it is you need to do, until you get it right. Welcome to living, my friend.”

  The blond male didn't move; was barely breathing.

  Fine. As far as words of wisdom went, that was all he had anyway. There were other things he needed to get on with, and Ryan could deal with the rest of this baggage when he got back.

  “I'll be around if you need me.” Taylor rose from his crouched position and made for the door, grabbing the edge of it to pull it shut behind him.

  “But I can't give it back.”

  He froze mid-swing, turning to face the beggared wolf on the bed. Hmm… What a strange adjective for someone with shit-loads of money. It was everything else he had to earn.

  “Then give her something better, so she doesn't need it back.”

  Lawrence met his eyes, and to his relief, a tiny flash of what he hoped was clarity breathed life into that pale blue stare.

  He turned to leave.

  “Wait.”

  “Yes?”

  “The door. Leave it open.”

  ~*~

  Lydia had walked out as far as she could go – as far as timing would allow her. The meeting was at seven o'clock. One hour to go, and she'd been walking for one. She would need to stop soon, turn around and go back.

  This was a part of the woods she'd not been to before, and she had purposely ventured this way to avoid seeing anyone. Alone time was next to impossible mated to three males, and really, that was all she wanted at this second.

  It was never going to be easy, was it? Not with three of them, and certainly not with him. You knew. You knew you'd have to strip yourself bare for him to let you in – you knew he'd have to see you powerless for change to occur.

  Not that she'd had an inkling it would happen that way.

  Lawrence wasn't an arsehole … well, he was sometimes, but his actions had been fuelled by desolation, twisted hurt, and fear; she understood that. They had not been the product of a mean person, but a damaged one. She knew the difference.

  Nevertheless, anger still coiled in her with no outlet, and she still had no idea how she'd reined it all in. The odd thing was, when she'd stood at the centre of the crossroads – when she could tell that he'd been craving her wrath and craving destruction – at that exact point of no return, she'd known that her reaction would either keep his pattern of self-torment going, or break it.

  It needed to be broken.

  Whether she had succeeded, only time would tell.

  I love you.

  She internally flinched at the memory of telling him that, feeling vulnerable all over again. Guess there was no good time for those three words after all.

  If he wanted her powerless, those three words were it – moreso than anything he'd done to her, even if didn't know it – and that was power she had chosen to give away for the sake of his healing.

  She hoped to god it had been the right decision, because all she felt right now was a whole load of doubt and completely defenceless.

  Wide open.

  Another reason for a walk alone.

/>   Voices carried towards her on a slight breeze.

  She rooted to the spot, not moving an inch.

  Female voices.

  Three of them, she concluded after a while. They were still quite far off – too far off to get a scent on them.

  The wolf in her bristled. Females? She couldn't be sure at this distance, but they didn't sound like any of the other three females in the pack.

  Inadvertently, she growled, protectiveness rising. This was her territory.

  “I'm serious, I am totally creeped out. I think we should go back to the car,” said voice number one.

  Lydia frowned. There was something strangely familiar about it, although she couldn't think what.

  “We haven't come all this way just to turn around and go back.”

  “We should have seen the main house by now. This looks like no entrance to any property that I've ever seen – we're in a bloody forest!”

  “But the postcode led to here.”

  “So where's the damn house?”

  “As well hidden as your husband, clearly.”

  Shit!

  Holy SHIT.

  Sarah. That was Sarah. What the almighty fuck was she doing here?

  Ohmygodohmygodohmygod…

  Her first thought was to go get Ryan. She cursed when she remembered he wasn't here – damn it, he was the one everyone went to with stuff like this.

  Should she tell Taylor? He'd lost it last time he'd seen Sarah, but he was different now, wasn't he? They were bonded and he seemed happier about his whole past and what had happened…

  Or she could go find Lawrence, but Lawrence was currently a wreck, and she had no idea at all what he would do, or if he was capable of doing anything at all.

  Crapitcrapitcrapit!

  She turned and fled in the direction of the mansion, only to hurtle into a tall, solid object. One with hands.

  On a gasp, she looked up to find one of the pack boring his eyes into her. Pete.

  “Er…” She didn't know him that well – she didn't know any of them that well – but Pete she'd always avoided eye contact with because it was really damn hard not to stare at his half-mauled face. Although, the non-mauled half was no less striking, with jet black hair and jet black eyes, and the palest skin. The guy must have been a stunner once. Still, he had the intense, creepy stare thing down to a fine art, and right now, he sort of looked like the Grim Reaper.

  Lydia shivered. “I was just heading back to get Lawrence,” she said, wishing that sentence had come out just a bit more steady.

  The women's voices reached her again, and Pete glanced up in their direction, looking both surprised and like he was ready to kill. This was private property after all, and if this was his part of the woods…

  “Please don't. It's Taylor's wife – his human wife. I need to go get Lawrence.”

  “I've got this,” he muttered, and it was such a mutter, in a very deep, throaty voice, she wasn't sure he'd said anything at first.

  “She is not to be harmed.” She had no idea where from inside herself that tone had emerged. It left no room for compromise. What she did know was that if Sarah got hurt, Taylor would be hurt, and that was something she would avoid at all cost.

  Pete stopped in his tracks towards the women, and bore those eyes into hers again.

  She didn't flinch – no way. Not if Taylor's heart was on the line – this was non-negotiable. A quickening ran through her centre; lit up her nerves … thunder sounded to the south of the woods and for once she was grateful for her abilities, because to keep her mates safe, she'd use them unreservedly.

  But another realisation had dawned – dawned with the approach of the intruders: she would also do what it took to keep her pack safe. On hearing the strangers' voices, her thought hadn't been for the safety of her mates alone; they had been for the safety of the pack.

  Pete held his ground.

  So did she.

  To her astonishment – and she hoped it didn't show – he finally lowered his head in acquiescence, although he never took his gaze off hers. “I'll not hurt her. She'll be safe until Lawrence gets here.”

  She matched his stare for two more seconds, then turned and raced towards the mansion, wishing the moon was already up so she could shift. Four legs would be so much better than two in this instance.

  Then again, her two were better than none.

  Chapter Twelve

  Taylor appeared around the corner of the house carrying a couple of garbage sacks – preparing the place for the meeting no doubt. Ryan would never have bothered with the rubbish, but Taylor liked to take care of everyone; wanted the best for them – he was nice like that.

  Selena stayed where she was behind the oak tree. It was now or never. Once she took this step, everything else would just fall into place.

  Her chest rang with torture at the approaching moon. The sun hadn't even set yet. She wondered what it would be like to feel no mating pains. Must be damn nice.

  And soon, you'll know.

  She stepped out of her hiding place and ran towards him, waving her arms at him as soon as he looked up.

  “Selena?”

  “Hey. I was hoping to find you.”

  “What is it? I was just about to head back out.”

  She put on her best 'anxious' look. “Someone's been hanging about outside my place, and my dad's out now until the meeting. Can you come and take a look?”

  “Someone hanging about?”

  “A male, I think. He smelled like a male – it sort of smelled like Pete, but I can't be sure. Whoever it is, after this morning I just don't want males hanging around like that unannounced, you know?”

  He looked hesitant, and then like he wanted to go back inside the house.

  Shit.

  “I'd rather go inside with you,” she gestured at the mansion, “but Lawrence said I can't be here right now, so … please Taylor. Will you come back with me? Just take a look around and make sure it's safe?”

  “Er … I was heading out to look for Lydia. I really need to find her.”

  “Oh, I just saw her.”

  “You did?”

  Sort of.

  She'd actually caught her scent and promptly turned the other way, and it had been about an hour ago, but Taylor needn't know that. “Yeah, near that clearing by the old Elm tree? Not too far from mine – maybe you'll still catch her.”

  He frowned as if wondering what she'd be doing there, then he looked at the sky towards the sun that would soon set, and sighed. “Okay, let me just wash my hands.”

  Wash your hands? Are you kidding? It's not like werewolves caught infections the way humans did. Instead, she smiled. “Sure.”

  And hurry the fuck up, she thought to herself as he slipped away.

  She looked nervously around.

  She had heard from her dad that Ryan had taken a trip cross-county or somewhere, so he wouldn't be back until the meeting – that gave her just under an hour. She couldn't have planned it more perfectly if she'd tried. The potion bottle, the mating formula and a syringe lay waiting for her back at her cottage – no way was she carrying those things around on her person. If anyone found them, she'd be in the deepest of all shits. All she had to do now was get Taylor away from Lawrence and Lydia, and alone. She was half way there.

  He came into view once more, rubbing his palms on his jeans a couple of times and offering her a small smile. He still looked like he didn't want to be going anywhere with her. It hurt her more than she'd have liked, but she brushed the pain aside: it was understandable – he was mated. His natural instinct would be telling him to stay away from all other females, but Taylor was also different; able to fight the wolf's instinct to do the 'right' thing. She wondered at his humaneness. It was a strange trait. She couldn't figure out if it was a weakness or a strength. Whatever it was, it was to her advantage. No way would any other mated male be taking off with her right now, just two hours before the rise of the full moon.

  He fell into step beside
her as they headed away from the mansion. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  “You mean after this morning?”

  “That, and also, the mating pains. They must be getting harsh roundabout now.”

  She hadn't really meant to stop, but he'd taken her completely by surprise.

  He came to a halt in front of her when he realised she wasn't moving. “What is it?”

  A lump formed in her throat out of absolutely nowhere. “I just … it's just … no one's ever asked me about them before. No one ever asks.”

  Inside her, her wolf cried, and whined and howled at her. Tears skimmed her eyes. She almost walked away right then – called the whole thing off. Because really, what the fuck was she doing?

  You'll ruin him – is that what you want? You'll destroy the very thing about him you adore.

  “Hey,” he said, softly, and then took a step towards her. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

  He reached out with a hand, and she flinched.

  It was quickly dropped with an apology.

  “It hurts,” she replied. Although, all at once, she wasn't sure exactly what hurt – everything just ached excruciatingly all over: her body, her heart and her mind. She winced from the pain of it. Maybe it was guilt.

  Or maybe this was the start of her dying because she was almost twenty-five with no hope of finding a mate. “Let's go,” she said, before she grew weak and changed her mind. There was no room for change.

  The moon wouldn't suddenly change its course for her; it wouldn't suddenly wane instead of wax and let her have just one peaceful month – arrest her demise.

  She wouldn't change either.

  ~*~

  “This is crazy!” Holly complained, clutching the album tightly to her so she wouldn't drop it in the tall grass. “What kind of house doesn't have a main entrance accessible by road? How does the postman get in?”

  “That's what I was saying,” shot back Sarah, her fuse getting shorter because her panic was growing. They'd been walking for ages. Holly's stupid Sat Nav on her iPhone was wrong – they had definitely not 'reached their destination'. “And we're on private property,” she added in a hushed tone. “We really need to go back.”