Dark Wolf Returning

by Rhyannon Byrd

  “Why?” she asked softly, blurting the question out before she had the sense to stop herself.

  His gaze narrowed in on her face, the long lashes making it difficult to read the look in his eyes. “Are you asking me why I haven’t been busy screwing my way through the pack?”

  Her response was simple and to the point. “Yes.”

  She couldn’t help but watch the way his biceps bulged as he lifted an arm, hooking his hand around the back of his neck. His breath left his lungs on a rough exhalation, and he said, “I haven’t had sex with anyone because the woman I want hasn’t been on the top of this bloody mountain with me.” Lowering his arm, he held her gaze like he never meant to let it go, and continued speaking through his gritted teeth. “I haven’t had another woman, Carla. Not since you. Hell, I haven’t had one since long before that night we were together.”

  For a few dizzying seconds, all she could do was stare at him in shock, unable to believe he was actually trying this with her. God, did he think she was a fool? A naïve little idiot who would believe anything he told her, if it was what he thought she wanted to hear? “Don’t. Even. Try. It,” she seethed, so angry she was shaking.

  He rolled one of those hard, muscular shoulders as he moved to his feet and turned away from her. He walked to the front window, bracing a hand against the top of the frame as he stared out into the starless night. “Get pissed, Rey. It doesn’t matter what you do or what you believe. You can’t change the truth.”

  “I’ll never believe you.”

  “Christ, that’s almost funny.” His head dropped back on those mouthwatering shoulders as he laughed. “You believe everything that isn’t true, but not what is.”

  “Fine, then answer me this. What about the blonde in the dive bar when I found you?”

  The hand he had braced on the top of the window frame curled into a fist. She listened as he took a few hard, deep breaths, watching the muscles in his sleek back flex with the movement, and then he said, “She’d dropped into my lap, trying to flirt, when she passed out in my arms. Since I couldn’t have cared less about her, I let her sleep there.”

  “You actually expect me to believe that nonsense?”

  He turned around as he pushed his hands in his pockets, the masculine pose making him look like something that women would plaster all over their bedroom walls and drool over. Tall, dark, and outrageously delicious, with his piercing eyes and that wild hair, a dark covering of stubble shadowing the hard angle of his jaw. Taking a step toward her, he growled, “Would it make you believe me if I completely humiliate myself for you? What would you think if I told you that I was desperate for even that small, pathetic bit of comfort, after so many years of missing you until I felt like my insides had been scraped raw? That I’d sat there, drinking my whiskey, trying like hell to pretend that it was you I was holding?”

  “I don’t...I can’t...”

  With his gruff words drowning in frustration, he took another step closer to her and muttered, “I don’t know why you think this would affect me any differently than it would you. How eager have you been to find some other male to rut between your legs?”

  Her chest shook with a hollow, heavy laugh. “I was so angry with you that I wanted to. I wanted to find someone.”

  “Don’t.” His nostrils flared as he took a sharp breath, his deep voice little more than a snarl. “I don’t want to hear it.”

  As quickly as her anger had come, it vanished, leaving her feeling deflated, like a balloon that had sprung a leak. “It...it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t go through with it. No one...I just...there was no one after you,” she finished lamely, her voice so small it made her cringe.

  For a moment, she thought he was going to close the distance between them and take her into his arms. But then he turned around again and stalked back to the window, his tall body hard with tension. “It was the same for me,” he said quietly.

  “I find that so hard to believe,” she whispered. “I mean, you could have had any woman you wanted.”

  Seconds ticked by as he stood there before the large window, staring out at the darkened street, while she fought the urge to go to him and wrap her arms around him, pressing her cheek against his warm back...simply holding him as tightly as she could. Pretending, just for a moment, that she wasn’t broken inside and the past had never happened. That they could start fresh, without any of the pain and fear and resentment.

  Finally, he broke the silence, his deep voice rough with emotion. “There were a few times, when I was lonely, that I thought it might help to find another woman. Times when I tried damn hard to put you out of my mind. Wishing I could just rip you out for good.

  “When I left here, I told myself that when the time came that I wanted sex again, I would approach it with the sense of detachment it deserved. A bodily function that had to be fed, nothing more. And when it was done, I would move on, wiping it from my mind. I wouldn’t think about what I’d lost. And I sure as hell wouldn’t waste time wishing for things that could never be mine.”

  He turned a little to the side as he slumped against the edge of the window frame, his profile so stark it could have been carved out of granite. “But I could never go through with it. I would find a woman, talk to her, drink with her. But when it came time to get down to it, not only were my body and heart unwilling, all I could think about was the look that would be on your face if you saw me touching someone else.” Shaking his head, he gave a bitter laugh. “Guess that was stupid, though, seeing as how you already hated my guts. It’s not like falling into bed with some woman I didn’t even want could have made you hate me more.”

  She knew she needed to address this idea he had that she hated him, but she was still too stunned by the realization that was slowly sinking into her. “My God, you’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Turning around, he crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze becoming darker as it locked with hers. “Why do you think my friends are always laughing at me, giving me a hard time about you? They’ve never seen me act like this over a woman.”

  She shook her head a little, still trying to wrap her brain around it. “The night I found you, in that bar, Sam said you were always so freaking nice to women.”

  The look he slid her was equal parts exasperation and fury. “Nice to them, Rey. As in wanting them to be safe, but not giving a shit about them beyond that.” He scrubbed a hand over his face as a gruff laugh jerked from his lips. “But it was all a pathetic joke, wasn’t it? Because we both know you don’t really give a shit about what I do or who I do it with. Why would you, when deep down inside you can’t stand me?”

  “Why do you keep saying that? I thought you believed that I was madly in love with you? That we belonged together?”

  His gaze lowered, dropping to the floor, while he drew in a deep breath of air that shuddered on his exhale. Then he said three simple words: “Cian told me.”

  Feeling more than a little confused, she asked, “He told you what?”

  His dark gaze shot back to hers, burning with emotion. “About the bond breaking. About how dangerous it is for the one who’s seeking it.”

  She wheezed as she took a step back, everything suddenly snapping into place with a lot of noise and reverberation, like a series of gunshots going off in her head. “Is that...is that why you’re here?”

  He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, lips parted for breaths that were getting rougher by the second. “Yeah. I just needed...to think.”

  Carla heard the catch in his deep voice, and felt as if something dark and heavy was falling over her, like a cold rain. She honestly hadn’t thought it would matter to him one way or another, or maybe she just hadn’t let herself consider how he would feel about the risk she would be taking. Either way, it was clear to her now that her willingness to endanger her own life to destroy their bond was something that had hurt him deeply. Was still hurting him.

  “Eli,” she whispered, so confused she couldn’t make heads or
tails of any of the powerful emotions tearing through her. Moving like someone in a dream, she felt her feet covering the distance between them, and then she was standing right in front of him, her head going back so that she could keep her eyes on his beautiful face. Wetting her lower lip, she said, “I’m not doing this to hurt you.”

  He stared so hard and deep into her watery gaze, she felt like he was seeing right inside her. “I’m sorry, Rey. So fucking sorry, for everything, for all of it.” The sincerity in his rough voice made her ache. “I never wanted to hurt you. That was the last goddamn thing that I wanted.”

  Her throat shook, melting, and she found herself lifting her hands to his face, her thumbs stroking over his flushed cheekbones. “It’s really true,” she murmured, an unmistakable note of awe in her voice that she didn’t even try to hide. “You haven’t been with anyone. I can see the truth in your eyes.”

  “It’s about damn time you can see something,” he groaned, and she didn’t know if she was the one who lifted up or if he was the one who leaned down, but their mouths were suddenly crashing against each other and they were kissing as if they needed the other’s taste to breathe...live...survive. He tasted sumptuous, like whiskey and hot, addicting male. A taste she knew she’d never be able to get enough of. That she’d go to her grave craving, no matter how many years she ended up having on this earth.

  And then the raw, aggressive tenor of the kiss changed, their mouths gentling as it melted into something soft and lush and heartbreakingly poignant. Every stroke of his tongue was conveying something so much deeper than pleasure, as if he was pouring his very soul into the touch of his mouth against hers. His hands threaded through her hair, holding the sides of her head as he slanted his mouth over hers, stroking and licking and nipping, his warm breaths pelting against her lips as they shared the same air.

  “You drive me so damn crazy,” he rasped, wrapping one arm around her lower back as he drew her up against him, his body already hard and thick with need. Pressing his lips to the side of her throat, he said, “No one else has ever had the power to make me so angry, and yet, I’ve never been as happy as I am when I’m with you, Rey. Even when you’re snapping at me, all I can think about is holding you and getting inside you and making you come, again and again, until you’re steeped in so much pleasure all you can do is melt and shiver and smile up at me.”

  She gave a soft laugh, loving the feel of him under her hands as she stroked his shoulders, the muscles so firm and hard beneath his hot skin. “Not that it doesn’t sound fun, but I swear you don’t have to go to that much trouble just for a smile.”

  “Feels like it,” he muttered, kissing his way up to her ear and then nipping at the delicate lobe, while his hands settled on her hips, holding her against him.

  “Am I really that crabby?” she asked, grimacing on the inside.

  “Just with me. You’re all smiles with your friends. And hell, you smile all the time at mine, as well.” His head suddenly shot up, a worried look on his gorgeous face as he said, “Has Lev been flirting with you since I came up here?”

  “What? No,” she murmured, running her fingers through his soft, thick hair, loving that she was able to touch him. “There’s no need to be jealous, Eli. I’m not attracted to Lev. He’s just a big ol’ teddy bear. To be honest, he kinda reminds me of Brody.”

  “A teddy bear?” he choked out, sounding skeptical. “That’s not how most women view Slivkoff.”

  Her eyebrows slowly lifted. “Well, I’m not most women.”

  He leaned back and let his hot gaze roam down her body, before giving a low, rumbling groan. “Don’t I know it.”

  * * *

  She smiled at that—one of those soft, beautiful smiles that made him want to throw her over his shoulder and keep her forever—and Eli could feel the fever inside him rising even higher. As if she could tell just how much power she had over him, she flattened her hands against his abs and started pushing him across the room, until his back hit the front wall of the house, to the right of the window. His heart started pounding like a friggin’ jackhammer as she smoothed her soft little hands over his heaving chest, the smile on her lips becoming downright wicked as she leaned forward and pressed her parted lips against his left nipple, flicking the pebbled flesh with her tongue. His breath sucked in on a gasp, and her smile got bigger as she trailed her lips lower, her hands reaching for the top button on his jeans.

  “Damn it, baby, don’t,” he groaned, gripping her wrists and drawing them away from his body, his cock so achingly hard he was surprised he hadn’t burst through the zipper.

  She pulled her head back and looked up at him, that succulent lower lip—the one he wanted to devote hours to tasting—caught in her teeth. “What? You didn’t like the way I give head?”

  A stunned laugh jerked up from his chest. “Not like it? I friggin’ loved it.”

  “Then why are you stopping me?” she asked, pulling a little at her captured wrists. The wolf in him gave a low, aggressive growl, loving the sight of her caught and trapped, and he mentally shoved the animal back, determined to keep it under tight control. No way was he giving it an inch, knowing it would have its fangs buried deep in her slender throat the first chance it got, and they were nowhere near that point yet. Not when she was still thinking to sever their connection in an act that could very well end her life.

  His heart stuttered at the thought, and he forced it from his mind, since it was only going to twist him up inside and lead to another argument. And there would be plenty of time for that later, when she wasn’t looking at him in a way she hadn’t looked at him since she’d walked back into his life and punched him in the mouth, her eyes soft and warm and full of desire.

  Moving his hands from her wrists to her ass, he lifted her off the floor, her body locked against his as her legs wrapped around his waist. “I stopped you because as much as I loved what you did to me,” he said in response to her question, turning so that she was the one pressed against the wall, “I didn’t get my fix last night.”

  “Your fix?” she said with a smirk. “That makes you sound like an addict.”

  “For you I am. That’s what I feel like when it comes to your body and the way it tastes.”

  She snuffled a soft, shy laugh, and he smiled, loving that happy sound on her lips.

  “God, I can’t get enough of you,” he muttered against her mouth, kissing each corner, before touching his tongue to hers. “Not these lips...not any part of you, Rey. I want to lay you down, strip you bare, and lick every beautiful inch of you for hours on end.”

  “Will I get the chance to do the same to you?” she whispered, curling a hand around the back of his neck.

  “God, yes,” he breathed out. “As long as you want, baby.”

  He took her mouth then with every bit of emotion burning inside him, pouring everything he felt for her into the lush, drugging kiss. It was hot and wet and blisteringly perfect, her tender mouth moving against his, and he was in heaven until she suddenly started pushing at his shoulders. The instant he lifted his mouth, she turned her head to the side, and he gnashed his teeth in frustration, his beast surging up inside him, wanting to throw back its head and howl. She was doing it again—pushing him away—and he set her back on her feet before jerking away from her. Lifting his arms, he clasped his hands together behind his neck and clenched his jaw, not trusting what might come out of his mouth at that moment. Then he heard the noises out on the street, and realized that was the problem—the reason why she’d pushed him away. “Christ,” he scraped out, shaking his head. “I don’t believe this. No one’s luck can be this shit.”

  “Eli, what’s going on?”

  “I don’t know,” he muttered, lowering his arms as he headed toward the front door. “But I might kill someone if it doesn’t turn out to be the end of the world.”

  Stepping out onto the front porch, he looked over the group of Lycans running down the street, heading toward the woods at the far end. He recogn
ized Charles Decker, the Lycan who’d been leading the scouting party that had helped them during the ambush, at the back of the group.

  “What is it?” Carla asked, coming out onto the porch with him.

  “Not sure.” Sliding her a careful look, he said, “Will you wait for me here if I go talk to Decker?”

  “I’m not helpless, Eli,” she said with a sigh, shaking her head a little. “I could just go with you and we could find out together.”

  Shoving his hair back from his face, he held her gaze and tried not to sound like an overbearing jackass. “I know you’re tough as hell, Rey. But until I know what’s happened—what we’re dealing with—I’d feel better if you’d stay near the house.”

  She looked like she wanted to argue—but then her gaze slid away from his and she casually shrugged her shoulders. “You’d better hurry,” she murmured, jerking her chin toward the street, which was empty, the Lycans all gathered at the far end now, just at the thick edge of the trees.

  With a silent, frustrated string of curses on his lips, he turned away from her and headed down the porch steps, knowing there was little to no chance she was still going to be there when he got back. Hoping like hell for a miracle and that she’d actually stay, even if it was only so they could talk, he jogged down to the end of the street, where Charles was listening to a report from two red-faced scouts. The younger men were hunched over with their hands on their knees, trying to catch their breath as they spoke.

  “What’s going on?” Eli asked as he joined the group.

  Charles jerked his chin toward the trees, and Eli followed behind him as they walked about ten yards or so into the woods, until they reached a small clearing, where another group of scouts was busy discussing what sounded like a possible infringement on Silvercrest pack land by several Whiteclaw soldiers.

  “We think it’s a false alarm,” Charles told him. “Sounds like it might have been a couple of Whiteclaw teenage boys meeting up in the woods with a few Silvercrest girls. But we have to double-check every part of the border now to make sure it wasn’t a ploy meant to draw our attention away from something more sinister.”