Harlequin Nocturne May 2015 Box Set: Wolf HunterPossessed by a Wolf

by Linda Thomas-Sundstrom

  “Oh?”

  “Some of it’s the world you live in. The danger. It was what I saw you do in the alley—attacking that man.”

  “Who was attacking you at the time.”

  “It was the last straw, but there were a couple of bales of it in my life already. I just broke. I couldn’t absorb one more shock.” She rested her forehead on her knees. “You think I’m being unreasonable.”

  Faran sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed her foot through the coverlet, giving it a squeeze. His voice softened. “You said that was some of it. What was the rest?”

  “Me.” She didn’t like the defensive edge to her tone, but she couldn’t help it. “I get this feeling—like when I saw Gillon on the ground. I can’t explain it. It’s like I’m hungry and restless and lonely all at the same time. I have to run—get away from it—because it’s the only thing that makes me feel better.”

  Lexie had never said that to anyone before. She wasn’t even sure she’d known it herself before that instant. She raised her head to look at him.

  He studied her for a long time, saying nothing but giving her the full force of his blue eyes. His expression wasn’t hostile, but it was sad. “Did you ever love me?” he finally asked.

  “Yes.” Her mouth went numb. Not dry. It just ceased to be. How can he think I didn’t? That I don’t? She didn’t want to consider that. Her heart hammered as if her rib cage was suddenly too small. She gave a slow nod. “I’m a mess.”

  “Yes, you are.” He smiled to take the sting from his words. “And you kind of made a mess of me.”

  They’d run up against the wall she’d been dodging for so long. Tears stung her eyes. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not enough. I—”

  He put one finger to her lips, stopping the flood of apology. “You can’t help what you feel. There’s no blame here, but we need to be smart about this. I need you to tell me the truth. Don’t tell me what your head says—tell me what the rest of you knows. That’s what a wolf thinks like. That’s always honest.”

  “I don’t understand,” she protested.

  “Stop thinking.”

  Chapter 10

  Faran leaned forward, sliding his hand up the side of her thigh, to her hip, to her waist. Lexie’s limbs froze, not sure whether to lean in or pull away. “I can’t think when you do that.”

  “Good.”

  There were layers of bedclothes between his palm and her skin, but memory supplied the feel of his touch. He’d always been able to ignite her like a match to tinder. Raw desire had never been the problem between them—just what her mind did with those feelings.

  “I...”

  “Shh.”

  Faran’s breath fanned warm against her face. His lips brushed hers, barely there at first, and then with hunger. He pulled her closer, drawing her into his embrace. Her hands found the smooth skin of his shoulders and trailed over the bulk of his chest, delighting in the clean, hard lines. And then his arms tightened, folding her in the strong circle of his embrace. She felt the power of him, the sheer brute strength banked in all that hard muscle.

  She tensed. He froze.

  “What does your body tell you?” he asked.

  “Danger.” The word was barely more than a whisper.

  He released her slowly, his brows drawn together in puzzlement. “Talk to me.”

  Lexie inhaled as if she’d been fighting for air without realizing it. “I know holding me like that’s supposed to make me feel protected, but it doesn’t. Not right now.”

  “What do you think I’m going to do?”

  “Nothing—it’s like there’s something buzzing inside me when you get close.” She couldn’t exactly explain what she meant. She felt like a horse kicking down the barn door to get loose. She’d heard about people who got caught between a car and a wall and were slowly crushed to death—and in that moment she knew what it felt like. Helpless, immobilized, vulnerable. Desperate for air.

  His fingertips traced the line of her cheek. “Claustrophobia?”

  “That’s part of it, but it’s only part. Call me crazy.”

  His lips thinned at her evasion, but he pressed on. “I don’t remember you ever mentioning feeling like that before...” He trailed off. Before the wolf.

  Lexie knew she was hurting him. She had to give him something. “It was fine at first. It got worse the closer we got. The more I wanted to be with you, the worse it became.”

  “Why?”

  “Like I said, it wasn’t just you. Maybe I’m allergic to relationships.”

  Her tongue felt like a shriveled, dead thing. Faran waited, but she couldn’t say any more. There were layers of emotion involved, and she barely understood half. Shame, habit, reflexes born of years of punishment muzzled her. She could see Faran thinking through the problem. He always wanted to fix things—but this wasn’t a simple repair.

  “Are you willing to try?” he asked softly.

  “I want to.”

  “Good. That’s all I ask.” He lay down beside her, rolling onto his back with a come-hither grin. “So now you’re the one in control.”

  Lexie looked down at him, feeling suddenly lost. “What?”

  “Ravish me. You know you want to.” He put his hands behind his head. It did great things to his arms.

  “Uh.” She bit her thumbnail. Lexie’s first instinct had been to kick him off the bed, but suddenly she didn’t want to. Faran looked like sin. She wanted to forget everything and just launch herself at him like a starving woman, but she felt tangled in the net of her own anxieties.

  Her hand drifted to settle over his heart. It beat strong beneath her palm. He was so warm and alive, nervous energy almost crackling the air around him. Her own body responded, quivering in response. It made her short of breath.

  “Do you still make those crispy shrimp things?” she asked, grasping for something safe and light to calm herself.

  He responded with a lazy blink of his blue eyes. “I think I still have the recipe somewhere. I remember you like those.”

  She bent and kissed his mouth, feeling his heart kick slightly as she did it. It gave her a twinge of ridiculous pride. “You want to know what I like? I like that.” She kissed the spot over his heart. “And that.”

  He reached out, taking her hand in his. His fingers were so long, they engulfed hers. Her breath caught.

  “But you don’t like that,” he said.

  She pulled away. “I need to know I can get free. I like being touched, but only if I’m in control.”

  “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  Tears rushed up the back of Lexie’s throat, and she clamped her teeth hard to keep them in. Because I’m fearless. I’m the one who lives without a care. She’d told herself that a thousand times, but it was a lie. She’d just hidden it until she couldn’t anymore. “It’s old stuff. Baggage. Damage.”

  The admission left a bitter taste in her mouth.

  “Lexie, what happened?”

  She sucked her breath in, shaking her head as if to push away the groundswell of memories. “I think that’s enough fun and games for one night, don’t you? It’s been a really, really long day.”

  She was running without even moving, and she knew it. Faran knew it, too.

  The air between them seemed to go cold. Without a word or a look, he slipped off the bed and padded toward the door. No judgment, no protest. I can’t do this to him again.

  “It was my brother, Justin,” she said, not looking up. The words came out so quickly, they barely made sense. But somehow that fit.

  “Lexie,” he said softly.

  Slowly, she raised her eyes. Panic began to stir. “He didn’t touch me that way. Not like you’re thinking.”

  His expression darkened. He was like a bow before th
e arrow was drawn, force waiting for purpose. “Whatever happened was enough.”

  She didn’t want to talk about it. It was like an ugly, twisted scar that deformed the parts of her that should have been lovely. It was proof that she couldn’t fix herself, or protect herself. Pride—shame—had made her want to be whole, but that was a lie. And it was costing her Faran’s love.

  “Justin is dead. He died when I was sixteen. He was three years older.” She hauled in a breath and let it go. All at once breathing seemed like a terrible chore. “The police shot him. He was involved in a home invasion. They think he killed a nine-year-old girl.” After all, he’d been practicing on me for a dozen years, bit by bit. “My parents still don’t believe it. Not even with all the evidence in front of them.”

  The room fell eerily silent, as if the air itself stopped dead. Lexie could almost hear her blood moving through her veins.

  “There’s a lot more to that story,” Faran said.

  “Yes.”

  “You never went home the whole time we were together. I don’t think you even called.”

  “Like I said, my parents didn’t believe. Especially not Mom. Not the way Justin died, and not about what he did to me. Not even when he broke my arm.” Her hand went to the spot just above her elbow. A feeling of hopeless, helpless rage awakened in her gut, scrabbling like a rat. “They called it sibling rivalry, but that doesn’t usually involve repeated trips to the emergency room.”

  Faran hadn’t moved a muscle, but the color drained from his face. “When did it begin?”

  “I’d just started school.”

  Random images spiraled through her mind. Her favorite plaid dress. The chain-link fence around the playground. Her stepdad’s car driving away in the bright California sun. Those were okay, but there were others. Finding out her real dad was gone forever. Her brother watching her from an upstairs window like some ghost from a horror film. Her mother taking endless pills. Lexie had been fascinated by the amber plastic bottles that rattled like candy. It was only when she was older she learned the problem was depression.

  “Mom was under the weather all the time, and my stepdad traveled a lot. I was just a kid, into everything, making messes. Justin never was. It was like he was already old when he was born. Mom said he looked just like our real dad. Maybe that’s why she liked him so much.”

  “So your brother looked after you when your parents weren’t around,” Faran guessed.

  “Yeah. He looked after me.”

  Other people would have called it torture, but that conjured images of chains and dungeons. That wasn’t it at all. They’d had a nice house with a nice yard, and she’d had swimming and piano lessons. There were never any pets, though. Her parents were that smart, at least. “It went on for ten years.”

  “Until he died.”

  She nodded. “It was all about Justin being in charge. He’d set traps just to show he could get me whenever he liked. This—” she pointed from herself to Faran and back “—this doesn’t come easily. I don’t trust. Not after looking over my shoulder every day for a decade, waiting for the next ambush.”

  With soft-footed grace, Faran crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the bed. He took her hand, holding it lightly, and kissed her palm. He shut his eyes, saying nothing but just warming her flesh with his.

  Lexie’s throat ached with remembered pain. “This is the moment people want to tell me Justin is gone and it will all be okay,” she said faintly. “Don’t ever do that. He’s still with me every time I jump at a loud noise.”

  “I’m not going to tell you what to think or feel.” Faran leaned close, the line of his body touching hers. “I just hope it fades over time.”

  She bit her lips together, refusing to cry. “I want this to work.” She kissed his cheek, feeling the roughness of his beard. “I hope I don’t drive you crazy first.”

  “I know it’s complicated. Believe me, I know.” He slid an arm around her, but he did it gently. Justin had stolen the kind of carefree rough-and-tumble she knew Faran liked—but horseplay set her nerves on edge. It was too much like an attack.

  A hot tear rolled from under her lashes. “I’m not much of a girlfriend, am I?”

  Faran’s head was bowed, but he smiled with a touch of his old mischief. “That’s what’s great about dogs. They adore you no matter what.”

  She kissed him. There was nothing else she could do because she thought her heart would break from the sheer weight of her feelings. He responded, easy and sweet and yet with a heat and hunger that let her know he wanted more than just to be her friend. Somewhere in their years apart, Faran had grown wise.

  And maybe she had, too. The wolf mattered—it was an essential part of him—but it didn’t frighten her nearly so much. Not when she felt the gentle affection in his caress. Faran was right. Her body knew things about him her brain had skipped over.

  His teeth tugged at her lip, teasing her, promising her as much as she could handle. Daring her to match his fire. He knew all too well that, for all her uncertainties, she was proud and that spark inside her would give her the strength to be whole.

  Her hands slid over his skin, reassuring her that Faran wasn’t just a wonderful dream. She wasn’t alone, and for the first time ever, the possibility of healing seemed real.

  Chapter 11

  “I don’t know why we’re doing this,” Lexie said as Faran’s car wound up the mountainside the next morning. True, it was a magnificent day for a drive, with a cloudless sky and only the lightest breeze, but their last road trip had ended in the fight with a melting man. She wasn’t getting over that in a hurry. “Don’t we have bad guys to catch back at the palace?”

  “Sure.” Faran turned the car onto a narrower path that led to an abrupt stop on a grassy plateau. “But investigation is about more than running around shooting people. I need to think. And I need to get away from the city for a while. Yesterday was a little intense.”

  As Faran parked, Lexie scanned the scene through the windshield—rolling hills, mountains and a hawk against the flawless sky. Faran had always been a lover of the great outdoors, and now she knew why. Part of him belonged to it. She waited for that reminder of the wolf to rouse her anxiety, but it didn’t. “Okay, but this is pretty isolated. What if Gillon’s friends show up?”

  He turned off the motor and opened the car door. “This isn’t a twisty back road like yesterday. No one is going to take us by surprise here. Look around you.”

  Lexie got out and did as he asked. They were in the middle of a flat meadow, the sheltering side of the hill a hundred yards away. The only break in the rough grass was an irregular ring of gray stones about four feet tall and too narrow for anyone larger than a child to hide behind. He was right; there was no opportunity for an ambush. It should have been reassuring, but there was something odd about the place. “It’s awfully warm here. It almost feels like summer.”

  “They say it’s because of the stone circle.”

  Lexie gave them another look. “Is that an ancient monument of some kind? Like a mini-Stonehenge?”

  “Apparently. There are circles like this all over the countryside. Ancient human tribes used them as meeting places, but the fey built them.”

  “The fey?” she asked curiously. “For real?”

  He nodded. “People sensitive to magic say touching the stones gives them pins and needles.”

  She approached the closest stone, half expecting it to start glowing. Nothing happened. The stone was just gray rock, lumpy and hunched. It leaned to the side like an old gravestone, its base lost in the long grass.

  But despite its plain appearance, it felt very much alive—not as if it would move or make a sound, but it was somehow aware. She stopped walking. She didn’t want to get any closer. “Can’t you feel it?” Lexie asked.

  “I can tell th
is was a fey place, but not more than that. I’m just a werewolf. It’s not the same thing.”

  Her thoughts slid sideways a moment, as if they’d lost their footing on the strange subject matter. “You say it was a fey place, like they aren’t here anymore.”

  “They’re not. The Light Fey keep to themselves, far away from the Company. The Dark Fey were exiled from the mortal world a thousand years ago.”

  Lexie stretched a hand toward the stone. She felt tingling, but it might have been no more than the power of suggestion. No, it was more than that. Truth be told, it felt like sticking her finger in a light socket.

  I can feel magic? So not what she wanted to know—and yet it made sense. She’d felt that buzzy, unsettled feeling she’d experienced around the stones—and Gillon and Faran—off and on ever since childhood, mostly in times of stress. As her relationship with Faran had stirred up other anxieties—mostly to do with her family—that unsettled sensation had only muddied the waters. The wolf had eventually become the focus of her dread.

  Complicated? Yes. There were a bundle of factors at work—misunderstood psychic abilities, deep-seated family trauma and a boyfriend who turned into a raging werewolf. No wonder she was a bit tense. But just now Faran had given her more insight than the past three shrinks and a Reiki master combined.

  Yet all this would explain why proximity to Gillon had sent her senses reeling—because he was definitely connected to magic. And it would explain at least one reason why the closer she’d grown to Faran, the more restless she’d become. He might be just a werewolf, but he hit the same radar. She definitely had a sixth sense for the supernatural.

  Stuffing her hand into her jacket pocket, she turned back to him. Faran was unloading something from the trunk of the car. “Is that why you brought me here? To see if I could feel the stones?”

  He was rummaging in the trunk of his car, his back to her. “Maybe. It was an idea.”

  “I can feel them.”

  “Cool.”

  She felt a brief stab of irritation. She could feel magic! Surely this was big news! “What does that mean?”