by Ellis Leigh
Ariel sighed, looking tired and frustrated. “Yes, you can. She's your mate.”
Mate. A silly word. One he’d examined in his head for so long and from so many different angles that it no longer made sense. As if it ever had. “I don't even know what that means…to me. How that could be.”
“It means you can trust her, and it could be because the fates deemed her your match.” Ariel covered Michaela's shoulder once more, pulled the blanket up tight around her neck, and turned her steely glare on Phego. “She's healing. That shoulder will be fine in a few hours. She might not even have a scar, but she will have a broken heart if you don’t pull your head out of your ass.”
He wanted to say something, anything, but he was speechless. Ariel knew he’d been the one to do the damage. Knew his claws had caused Michaela so much pain. Yet, she was still trying to help them be together somehow.
“It doesn’t matter. Some intangible bond shouldn’t matter.”
Phego had never seen Ariel look so angry.
“She's your mate, the other half to your soul. She’s meant to be with you, just as you’re meant to be with her. How can you be so flippant about this situation when you’ve been alone so long? How can you turn your back on her when you’ve seen the joy Amy, Sariel, Charmeine, and I bring to your brothers? Do you not care? Are you simply so dead inside that you can’t accept the fact that someone could care about you in any way?” Ariel asked, imploring him with her words before rising to her feet slower than she would have a few hours ago. “She is the only mate you will ever get in however long your life is, Phego. That's not something to throw away. We are not something to throw away. You'll regret it if you do.”
Ariel left without another word, leaving Phego alone with his sleeping mate and his swirling thoughts. Mate. Such a thing had never truly crossed his mind as a possibility. Had never been something he'd wished for, hoped for, or wanted. He was too scarred, too blocked off. Too set in his ways. Too untrusting and scared, if he was honest. And Michaela deserved better.
Still, he couldn't help but reach for her, to quell his need with the feel of her skin under his fingertips. A light stroke of her cheek was all he allowed himself, though. Just the one. He needed to keep control of his wolf. Keep control of himself. He couldn't risk hurting Michaela again, and he definitely couldn't risk anything distracting him from the danger lurking around them.
Phego must've fallen asleep at some point because the next thing he was aware of was a warm quilt under his face and the soft stroking of fingers in his hair. He jerked up, meeting Michaela's sleepy eyes. The room was still dark, night hanging heavy around them, but he could see her face. Her expression. The slight smile she wore loosened his muscles, and the intimacy of the blanket of darkness around them steadied his soul.
“Hi,” she said. Such a simple statement preceding so many difficult decisions. But first…
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Yes.” But was he? Would he ever be okay? A week ago, he would've said he was fine. Everything was great. Life was as it should be. But right then, post meeting Michaela, after feeling and tasting and giving in to her, he wasn't sure if anything would ever be okay again.
And Michaela must have somehow sensed that. “You don't trust me.”
He hated hurting her, but he had to be honest. Had to tell her the truth. Even if it caused more confusion. “I don't know if I can trust.”
Her eyes stayed locked on his, voice firm as she said, “Yes, you do.”
Phego couldn't answer her, couldn't risk seeing the pain on her face when he said what he truly thought. When he announced his confusion and reluctance. He never should have been alone in the barn with her. He never should have claimed her with his body when he was so torn over her very presence. He should have been a better man, a stronger one. For her.
Michaela sighed, sagging into the pillows, suddenly looking so small and defeated. “Can we at least try?”
Phego dropped his head, unable to look her in the eye as he thought of a way to answer that question. Try? Try what…try not to kill one another? Try to learn to trust, even after centuries upon centuries of failing on his part? What was the point in trying? What was it she wanted from him?
But the only words that came to him were the wrong ones. “Someone has been in the woods around the cabin.”
Michaela startled, her eyes going wide. “What?”
“Someone has been stalking the house. Colt and I have both sensed them, but they leave no trail. They’re like a ghost, a potentially dangerous one.”
Michaela's lips turned down in a frown, her face hardening with something close to anger. “I would never risk my friend. I would never risk the baby. Whatever is out there, it's not because of me.”
Phego sighed and stood, pulling away from her. Forcing his feet to head toward the door. “I want to believe you—”
“Then do it. Put a tiny bit of faith in me as your mate. Try, for me.”
He swallowed hard, knowing he was an asshole for what he was about to do. Hating himself for purposely causing her harm. But he had a mission, a job to do, a promise to keep. And he needed to focus on the surroundings and not on the woman lying on the couch if he was going to accomplish his task.
“I can't. I don’t know how.”
Phego didn't stick around to hear her response. He hurried out of the room, rushing outside and into the night. Into the hell where he belonged.
12
For days after the accident, after the time in the barn that Michaela refused to think about but couldn’t get off her mind, Phego put space between them. He hadn’t disappeared, hadn’t run off and completely abandoned them. He stalked through the woods and lurked in the shadows, always watching. Always hunting, it seemed. At least in wolf form. He was around even though she hadn’t seen his face since he left her with those cutting words after she begged him to try for her.
I don’t know how.
Painful, more so because he’d left right after that and hadn’t spoken to her since. Still, she felt him, sensed his eyes on her as she did the most mundane of activities outside. Hiding and avoiding her even as he watched her from a safe distance away. Refusing to come inside unless Ariel called for him.
Michaela would like to have said it didn’t bother her, that his refusal to accept her as his mate for more than just a moment of physical pleasure was nothing. But the fact that he’d joined with her in such an intense, intimate way and then practically abandoned her hurt. That hurt a lot.
During the day, she stayed busy with Ariel—exercising, examining, making sure the woman was relaxed and fed so she’d have the strength once the time came. During the day, Ariel tried to mend fences she hadn’t broken.
“He’s not always like this,” Ariel said the first morning after the barn, her eyes soft, her lips turned down in a frown. “He has a history—”
“One he would tell me himself if he wanted me as his mate.”
And so it went. Ariel would slip in little bits about Phego, and Michaela would try to redirect her. It didn’t always work. Ariel managed to get across that Phego’s family had tried to have him killed for reasons no one seemed to know, that he barely trusted his Dire Wolf pack, or brothers, as they called one another. That he’d stayed right beside Michaela while she’d rested and recovered from the barn incident. All things that melted a little of the hardness from Michaela’s damaged heart. But then she’d hear him, feel him close by, and she’d grow angry once more. And sad. She was always so sad.
But during the bright hours of the day, Michaela could ignore her draw to Phego. In the dark was a different story. At night, she would hear him in the woods, running laps around the property. Never straying too far from the cabin. Never leaving the small area of forest around them. That hurt as well. He trusted her only enough to stay within hearing distance. Never enough to completely leave Ariel alone with her. Michaela understood it at the same time that she hated it. Ariel was his friend’s mate, a pa
rt of his pack, and someone he was sworn to protect. And Michaela? Well, Michaela was apparently an interloper. A threat. A possible diversion from the real danger waiting for them all.
She was also mate to a man who didn't want one.
Colt continued to sleep on her floor, refusing to leave Michaela’s side for more than a few minutes at a time, unlike the man the fates had chosen for her. But Colt wasn’t so much protective as hyped up on fear. Nervous. An uncomfortable energy to be around, especially for Ariel. Especially when Michaela wanted to sleep.
She wished the man in her room every night was Phego. Wished he would come to check on her. The most selfish part of her, the wolf within her, wished he would watch over her instead of Ariel. But her wishes never came true, and she was left with Colt looming over her every minute of the day.
A frustrating proposition.
On the third morning after the barn incident, as she had begun calling it in her own mind, Michaela woke up in the wee hours of the morning. The sun hadn't even broken the horizon, yet she went from out cold to completely conscious and motivated to move in a breath. Anxious and ready to do something. What, she had no idea, but she felt it. The need for action. The need to get up and start her day right that second. So she did.
Michaela crept out of her room, sneaking past Colt with practiced ease and slipping out the door. Avoiding every creaky step, she headed downstairs, giving in to her need to be…somewhere other than where she was. The pull inside of her led her to the front door, enticed her to open it. To step out onto the porch. She closed the door behind her, not wanting the others to hear. To worry.
Wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill, Michaela stood in the eerie darkness. Waiting. Listening. For what, she had no idea. There was nothing out there. No sign or mate, no person waiting with all the answers. There was only dark, only black. Only one crazy woman standing on the porch of a cabin in the woods in the cold mountain air without a coat.
Until suddenly, she wasn’t alone anymore.
The feeling of being watched, of being joined, crept up on her. Her wolf perked up, a warning growl whispering through her mind. Michaela sensed Phego nearby, knew he’d been sleeping outside. The sensation coming from the watcher felt different than when Phego was close, though. Felt somehow rougher. Scarier. Perhaps it was being alone in the dark with him or the quiet hour they were in. Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. She was desperate to talk to Phego instead of talking about him.
“I miss you,” she whispered into the dark. She sensed him slip closer, the soft sound of something creeping toward her through the woods giving her a sense of peace and courage that buried the instinctual fear it also aroused. Knowing he could hear her even if she couldn't see him, she let the words come unbidden. Unfiltered. Raw.
“I wish we could figure this out. I know being mated, especially to a stranger, can take some getting used to. I've seen the awkward stress of a new couple joining throughout my years in my pack, but we can attempt to move past that if you’ll let us. We both have to at least be willing to try.” She ducked her head, tears burning the edges of her eyes, her voice weak as she murmured, “I'm willing to try. You said you didn’t know if you wanted to, but I want to. Do you? Will you try for me? Will you try with me?”
The only response was a deep, throaty growl from out in the darkness. A dangerous one. A warning. That wasn't the growl of a mate to his partner, not the growl of a man to the woman he wanted, even if that desire was only physical. That growl was a warning to an enemy, a threat of violence and anger. And it broke her.
With nothing but a shattered heart and a sudden fear of the man she’d been mated to, Michaela spun and hurried inside. Tears streamed down her face and she gasped repeatedly, her breaths coming hard and raspy. She wished she hadn’t gone outside. Wished she hadn’t said what she did. Not knowing was far better this burning in her chest, this ripping of her heart. Better than the agony of finally understanding Phego didn't want her at all. That he hated her. That he saw her as dangerous even when—
“Where were you?”
Michaela jumped, eyes going wide and heart slamming in her chest. The shock of that voice so close, so human, pulling her up short. And making her brain short-circuit a little. “How did you get in here so fast?”
Phego stood in the kitchen, a glass of what looked like orange juice in his hand. Clothes missing, skin dirty, he had the look of a man who’d just shifted human after a long go as a wolf. He had the look of a man…period.
He stared at her in what could only be pure confusion. “What are you talking about?”
Michaela shook her head, taking a moment to catch her breath and wipe away her tears before pointing toward the front door. “I was just talking to you out there…”
Her mouth fell open, her words dying on her tongue as realization slammed into her. Whatever was outside, whatever beast she’d poured her heart out to, wasn't her beast. It wasn't Phego. Colt was still upstairs; she’d left him sleeping on the floor. Ariel was down the hall, the pregnant woman unable to shift due to her heavy burden. Which meant something else was out there. Something in the woods. Something that had drawn her out of the house with a yearning, some sort of Alpha power. Something that had gotten close enough to have snatched her if it had wanted to.
A fact that Phego must have realized at the same time she did.
His face went hard, the glass nearly shattering as he tossed it into the sink. “Get upstairs, take Ariel with you, and wake up Colt.”
Michaela moved without thinking, responding to orders as any good pack animal would. But she only took two steps toward Ariel’s room and then stopped. Phego was heading outside, heading into the dark of night. Heading out to hunt whatever it was she’d sensed out there. He was rushing into danger to protect them all. Something about that, some sense of dread for his future, set her on a different path.
She rushed to him, slamming into his body before he could reach the door. Wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her so she could plant her lips on his. And he came with her, accepted her, sought her lips as much as she sought his. The kiss was explosive, wild and untamed. Completely out of control. Completely perfect in its feralness. Phego matched her intensity, his arm slipping around her waist and his hand dropping down to her ass. Grabbing her tight, holding on. His tongue stroking hers with deep, long passes. His growl rumbling against her chest, the sound familiar and right and so fucking sexy. That was the growl of a mate. The growl of a man aroused by his woman. That was a growl of hope that they still had a future. Somehow. Some way.
Michaela broke apart from him with a moan, licking his taste from her lips and shaking with desire. Needing so much more but knowing there was no time. Knowing she might not ever get more if Phego kept throwing himself into the danger. Or if he simply refused.
“Please,” she whispered, clutching him tight, her fingers practically embedded in his neck. “Please try.”
Phego didn't respond with words. Didn't give her platitudes or possibilities. He simply held her tighter, nuzzling into her neck to place a small bite at the base. A move of claiming. A move of want. A move that said more about their possible future than he could.
“I have to go.” His voice rumbled against her skin, and his arms tightened around her once more as if he didn’t want to leave her. It was a small thing, that squeeze. A tiny signal of his needs, of his desires. A brief moment of acceptance she’d take as hope.
Michaela clutched him hard, knowing this could be their last embrace. Knowing he was in danger. That they all were.
“Stay safe,” she whispered before taking two steps back and dropping her arms from around him. Letting him go. Knowing he had to be the soldier to protect them. Still hating it.
Phego gave her one last look, a deep, intense stare that said so many wonderful, hope-filled things…
And then he was gone.
13
Phego raced outside, the taste of Michaela's kiss still
on his lips. His body craved her, his mind focused on her. On them. On fixing things. He had been such an idiot to avoid her, and he’d come inside to try to find a way to talk to her. To lay his past on the line and hope for a future. He wanted her, wanted every part of her. He had planned to drag her sexy ass back to the barn for some more privacy, but the creature in the woods had shattered that idea.
But she’d spoken to him, kissed him. Had embraced him with one of those hugs he’d coveted. And he’d loved every second of it. He wanted more. Once he had rid the woods of whatever had been lurking there lately and Thaus came back for Ariel, he was going to show Michaela how much he wanted. Prove to her that he could be a good mate if she had patience with him. But first, he had a lurker to deal with.
To kill.
He couldn't fail his mate, who’d been in danger outside while he hadn’t been paying attention. While he’d been too deep into his thoughts of missing Michaela, wanting her, craving her touch—a fact that would eat at him until he made it up to her. He couldn't fail Ariel either. Whatever was watching them from out in the woods had gotten braver. Dared to move closer. The fucker had totally invaded Phego's territory and challenged him on his own turf. He couldn't let that happen.
Phego practically flew through the trees in a loop, using the cabin as a center point. Working slowly farther away to try to sniff out the trail of the lurker. Colt joined him at some point, spiraling in the opposite direction, the two unconsciously working as a hunting party on the search for a scent trail.
But when Phego found it, when he finally scented the beast that had been watching them, the force of the surprise it threw nearly knocked him to his ass. The trail left behind was the scent of a Dire, but not one of his brothers. Not one of his pack. Familiar in a way that almost made him tremble. The scent tugged at a memory, pulling hard at the darkness of Phego's youth. This was an old Dire, one he knew, one he had history with, which was impossible. There were only seven Dires left…one pack of them. His pack. Bez, Levi, Mammon, Thaus, Deus, Luc, and him. They were all that was left of their breed. That scent, that creature, was not part of their pack. Was not supposed to be alive.