During his second trip, the lights went out, leaving the house pitch black. He had no trouble making out a few shapes here and there in the darkness, but Cyn would need light.
She bumped into the table as if to prove his point. A cup of water fell off and rolled under a chair. “Shit!” she mumbled.
He fetched a flashlight from under the kitchen sink and handed it to her.
“What’s the power source to this place?” she asked as she cleaned up her mess.
“A cable from a generator in a shed north of here.” He returned to the door to get to work.
“Which means something happened to that shed.”
He nodded, digging even faster. This wasn’t a good sign. Something bad had happened and he’d been too distracted with the hunter for upkeep.
She plodded over to the door. “Do you want help?”
Why couldn’t she go to bed already? Was it that easy for her to forget she was a terminal leukemia patient? “Grab a blanket and keep warm. The temperature will drop soon and you’re not well.”
She took one of the bowls and the flashlight’s beam danced about as she moved. “Didn’t you heal me, though?”
He held back a grumble. “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. It takes time...among other things. All I did was give you strength you didn’t have before.”
“My arms are starting to hurt again. Not too bad, though.”
He paused in the middle of working. The need to touch her and heal her nipped at him. “Take the aspirin on the table.”
“So that’s what that was.”
“No sedative this time.”
“Did Zach honestly believe I’d stay with you?”
“I guess he did.”
“This will backfire if I kill you.”
He chuckled. He had yet to meet a hunter like her. “You and what army?”
“I’m not at my peak anymore. Even I know that.” She ran her fingers through her short-cropped hair. Most of the cancer patients he’d encountered during his internal medicine residency had made a pre-emptive effort to cut off their hair, but she’d left herself with a simple style. She leaned over, resting her head on her hands and her hair flopped over her face. Would it have been thicker before her chemo? Her cheeks fuller? Her hips wider?
After she had taken the pill, she fetched the bowls he’d filled.
“Do you have a shovel?” she asked.
“It’s outside with everything else of value. I left one knife in the house for practical purposes. It doesn’t cut worth shit, though.”
She grinned. “So you don’t trust me with a knife.”
He rolled his eyes. “Just sit down and stop trying to help me.”
But she persisted until he smelled her exhaustion as well as something else ominous. The effects of the chemo crept in. She stumbled with a pot on the way to the sink.
In a few footsteps, he caught up with her and snatched the bowl away. “No more. Go sit.”
She glared up at him. “Are you serious? I’m not a dog.”
With ease, he picked her up and headed for the seat farthest from the drafty fireplace. She was just as light as he remembered from when he’d carried her up the mountain to the cabin. Zach had trailed after him with the Christmas tree box. At the time, he thought the human had gone daft. Why not just leave his sister a note and be done with it? Now that he’d spent time with her, he found the man’s idea was necessary. He had yet to meet a woman so stubborn. She wouldn’t let up on her questions, either.
He almost put her down, but, on second thought, he grabbed a blanket from the closet. After sitting her down, he covered her with the blanket. There, now he could get some real work done.
Her hand locked on his arm. He stilled.
She twisted her face away as if she didn’t want him to see, but he smelled her suffering, quite strong to his nose, like bitter chives.
“What’s wrong?” Asking questions instead of assessing patients through their scent and body language was what humans did and her kind expected it. Most of his patients never knew he was a werewolf and it was for the best. He would’ve been denied the opportunity to attend medical school.
“The pain has started again.” Her voice seemed strange, as if a knife’s edge cut through her. “Please don’t leave me.”
“Have you been in pain all this time?” He sat next to her on the sofa. Close enough for their shoulders and knees to touch.
“Zach said I’m an expert at hiding it at this point.”
“I can get you stronger pain medication if you want.” He tried to get up again, but the grip on his arm persisted, even tightening for a moment.
“I can ride through it. I’ve done it before.”
The pain had to be worse. He could practically feel the nerve endings firing against his skin where their bodies made contact. “Where does it hurt?”
“Does it matter anymore? I’ve lost track of all the report results. The blood cultures. The stool samples.” She grimaced.
“I can only imagine.” He glanced at her face and she stared into a dark corner. The flashlight on the coffee table was aimed away from them, but he could make out every feature on her beautiful face. He itched to check her, to gather her in his lap and place his palm on her body. Would she accept his healing?
“Please let me examine you.” He rarely asked when it came to his pack. Most of the time orders sufficed when someone was in need.
“Zach always held my hand,” she finally said. So he took her hand. The palm was cold, so he gathered her small hand in his larger one.
“You got a name?” She had been calling him hey, werewolf for a while now. He couldn’t help smiling.
“Kaden.”
She mouthed his name. Her breathing was far more audible now. And the snow continued to cover all the openings in the house. If he worked all day he could clear a hole, but even the needs of the others beyond that door didn’t compare to those of the woman beside him. So he sat.
Silence filled the room, except for the occasional sound as someone shifted on the couch.
She hissed at his side, clutching his hand tighter. Fuck it. He gathered her into his arms. He didn’t give a damn if she didn’t want to be healed or be close to him. Let her fight.
But her head fell against him instead. She rested her cheek near the pulse point at his neck, her breaths steady on his bare skin. Every inch of her was cold and he fought the building desire to carry her to his bed and warm her properly.
“Have you ever been sick before?” she asked, ending the silence.
“Never.”
“You’re lucky.”
“I was born this way.” As were all his younger siblings. Living in northwestern Canada had been harder, but his pack had been safe, compared to those who lived in the south in the cities.
“My brother Ty had always been the sick one,” she said. “He has diabetes. One would think that would make him sympathetic to others who cared for him, but he’s always been an asshole.”
He couldn’t resist smiling, trying as covertly as he could to move the arm under her legs to cover them. “I have a sister like that, too. She has enough baggage to start a luggage store.”
“As the oldest one, I used to be the strong one everyone depended on. I’ve never broken a single bone in my body. All those missions, and the most I’ve dealt with was a chest cold.” She snorted. “Karma’s an evil, vile bitch with a crooked toe.”
“Now, that I agree with. As the eldest, I was expected to take care of the others and clean up their messes.” He sighed. “My kind has made too many mistakes. The packs were supposed to reveal our existence under peace, but a few mongrels have rampaged and now we’re hunted like animals.” His right hand was closer to her stomach now. Bare skin would be perfect, but she’d never let him get that close. Mere inches separated his hand from where he needed to be. Wanted to be.
“You’re so warm,” she breathed.
The rise and fall of her chest drew his gaze. T
he T-shirt she put on covered her body but still revealed the curve of her breasts. Her nipples jutted out and his imagination went wild, feeding him images of his mouth licking at her sweet skin. She’d cry out each time his tongue circled the peak. He inhaled deeply, trying to resist the wolf that stirred within him, the feral part that wanted to take this strong female and bond with her. She had endless drive—only an alpha female would possess such a thing. But she was also a hunter.
Keep your pecker in your pants, pal. “Rest now.”
Her breathing slowed a bit. His fingers inched over her hip, traveled underneath her T-shirt to her stomach. He stifled a growl when her bottom brushed against his groin. Almost there. The heavy cloth of long johns blocked his access, but he was close enough. Hold your breath. Don’t move. His fingers spread out wide and he closed his eyes, focusing on the growing tension in his head, the tightened bow that, when released, would feed healing magic into her body. A part of him would become a part of her. Healing others took concentration, but he couldn’t help but relax as she softened in his arms. With the right person, the pleasure bounced right back at him. A moan escaped her mouth and a shiver pulsed through him.
Suddenly Cynthia’s hand that held his left hand let go and clutched the one on her stomach.
“I’m grateful and all, but I’m not interested in what you’re selling me, Kaden.” She was breathless, but now a harder edge lined the words. She’d just wanted him to comfort her and nothing more.
“I’m not selling anything.” He could shove her hand away with ease but didn’t.
“I don’t want what you’re offering.”
His jaw twitched. “You don’t want to live?”
“Oh, I want to live.” She grew more animated by the minute. “And once I finish my chemotherapy, I’ll be fine.”
His eyebrows rose. She needed to work on her lies. “You’re not doing well.” What should have come out was, You’re dying, but she didn’t need to hear that. She needed to hear him say he was willing to do anything to make sure she survived. “And whether you like me or not, I’m compelled to heal those who are hurt. Have you ever thought about how your brother feels and what he might be willing to sacrifice to save you? I’ve seen the families suffering firsthand back in the cities where I used to work. Have you seen the desperation a father has to heal his child or that of a husband for his wife?”
She visibly swallowed. Then, moving faster than he’d expected, she tried to remove his hand from her stomach. “I don’t care,” she bit out. “I don’t trust any of your kind and I don’t need you to fix me.”
He didn’t fight her, even when she tried to head-butt him. The swipe to his head missed and she hit the couch instead. When she did get close enough to strike him with her fist, he snatched her forearm in mid-swing.
“Enough!” he thundered. His whole body tensed; the wolf writhing under his skin was hungry for a fight. There was no way she could stay here with him. “If that’s what you want, I won’t touch you ever again.”
She didn’t move in his lap, merely staring back at him with as much ferocity as he threw at her. The moment he let go of her arm, she scrambled off his lap and sat in the darkness of a far corner.
Chapter 5
The moment his ass fell asleep, Cyn was going to reduce the werewolf population in the area by one. That is, if she didn’t fall asleep first. But he didn’t go to sleep; matter of fact, he scooped bowl after bowl of ice, clearing a path until a spear of light penetrated the room through the front door. So much time had passed and now the setting sun was the last of the light they had, which most likely meant they’d spend the night in the dark.
He never looked her way the whole time. Scoop after scoop, trip after trip, he got rid of enough snow to reveal the outside. The cold air swept in and even the blanket around her shoulders didn’t keep her warm.
As to how long she’d stay mad at him, forever didn’t seem like a great option. Forever in a dark corner didn’t fill her belly or make the ache go away. With each passing minute, she felt closer to nausea, closer to the moment she first woke up in Kaden’s bed.
But wasn’t that what you wanted? she thought. Hadn’t she told him she didn’t want his help? In essence, wouldn’t she rather die than let a werewolf heal her? All her training, all the words her mother had taught her about werewolves fought against what she’d experienced for the last twenty-four hours.
“They have a driving need to dominate and deceive, Cyn. Don’t fall for their smooth words and tricks,” her mother used to say.
She hadn’t been harmed, though. Her gaze flicked to the couch. Not more than a few hours ago, they’d been sitting there with her on his lap. And damn it all to hell, but he’d made her feel good.
While Kaden was in the kitchen, a shadow passed over the opening. She tried to back toward the wall, immediately realizing there was no place to go. Was someone out there? Not just someone; two shadows passed by.
“You’re scaring her. Back up,” Kaden called out.
Her head whipped to the kitchen. Scared? Pfft! She wasn’t on her deathbed yet.
“Are you all right, Kaden?” a woman’s voice asked.
“Still alive and kicking.” He sounded bored.
“For half a second, I was concerned that bitch would hurt you.”
Bitch? Cyn sucked in a deep breath.
“Watch your mouth, Naomi!” Kaden marched into the living room and walked right past Cyn.
“What?” the woman said. “You told me she’s a hunter. You can’t throw one of those crazies without getting cut in the process.”
Kaden’s frantic digging cleared a wider opening until he was able to crawl outside. She peered with curiosity as he spoke to whomever was outside. She strained to hear, but couldn’t catch what was said.
She slowly stood, making her way toward the opening, only to have to back away as a woman made her way in.
“Who are you?” Cyn whispered. “Are you Naomi?”
This woman had to be another werewolf. There was something about the dark-haired woman’s stance, the smooth way she angled herself through the hole and slid inside. Her features were familiar. Cyn had seen that perfect nose and cleft chin before, the same black hair and green eyes. Was the woman related to Kaden?
The werewolf didn’t answer her question. Instead, she silently studied Cyn.
Not far behind the person, who had to be Naomi, someone else appeared, a tall, bald black man. “I told you not to rush in here,” he barked.
Who are all these people? The man took in Cyn. Not with curiosity—his eyebrows were lowered and his cold black eyes stared her down as though he’d determined every possible way to dissect her. His skin was light brown, while the stubble on his face had hints of red and brown. His stance was stiff, yet self-assured. Men like him had ‘hired killer’ written all over their faces.
Kaden came inside last. The chill from the outside followed him.
Since the others weren’t feeling too chatty, she kept her mouth shut.
“How bad is it out there, Sinister?” Kaden asked as he shrugged on his coat.
“Shitty,” the man mumbled. His eyes never left hers.
“Any estimate on how much time it will take to bring back the power?”
“Nope.” Evidently, he was a man of few words.
“Let’s go check the generator shed.” Everyone clamored outside. With only the blanket, Cyn shivered against the wind. The avalanche had cleared so many trees, leaving a streak of bare land from above. Without all the trees in the way, she was surprised to see more cabins uphill, at least seven of them. All this time, the trees had hidden them.
Kaden stared up the hill and cursed. “This isn’t good. We’re exposed now.”
“To who?” Cyn asked.
“To anyone who has the means of finding hidden packs,” Naomi snapped. “People like you.”
Cyn knew very well what kind of people Naomi was talking about. Freelancers. Not all werewolf hunters had clans. The f
reelancers picked away at the werewolves who fled the cities and exterminated them for rewards from the larger clans. If the landslide had occurred less than a day ago, there was no telling when a freelancer might find this hidden set of buildings.
From the ground, Sinister picked up a Mossberg sniper rifle, a beauty. The tall man eyed her as if he practically dared her to dive for it.
Kaden placed his coat over her shoulders, but she declined the offer. “Go back inside,” he said. “I have work to do, and you’re in no condition to stand out here.”
He did have a point there. Reluctantly, she returned to the cabin through the opening in the snow. She was surprised to see Naomi following her. Did Kaden think she needed company? A nurse wasn’t necessary at this point.
The inside was colder now. Darkness was spread like a cowl over everything. She made her way to the couch and sat.
Naomi continued to stand there.
“My brother will be busy for a while, hunter.” Her malevolent smile spread wide. “He never should’ve left you alone with me.”
Chapter 6
“This doesn’t look too good, Windham,” Sinister mumbled to Kaden.
Kaden waited at the entrance to the generator shed. The only part the avalanche hadn’t caved in. Tension filled him to the point where he gripped the door tight enough to bend the metal. The snow had brought down trees, which in turn had decimated the generator shed’s roof and the far wall.
No power meant no refrigeration. Any food could be moved outside or to the cellar, but the medical supplies that required a constant temperature of 40° were another story, especially if Cynthia needed them. And, at the rate she was going, any minute now that hunter would hit him over the head with a medical emergency.
He tried to push thoughts of the hunter aside. “How bad is ‘doesn’t look too good’?”
Windham Werewolves Page 3