by R. E. Butler
She could remember with crystal clarity the first time he struck her. She’d only been with him a few days, and she’d gone to school without food again, because he wouldn’t let her pack a lunch for herself. The school had called him and ordered him to either provide food for her or money for the school’s hot lunch, or else they would notify the authorities. The minute she walked in the door, he grabbed her by the front of her jacket and smashed her into the wall. She had been overwhelmed by the pain as he slammed her again and then let her fall to the floor. He kicked her in the stomach and snarled, “If you ever tell on me again, I’ll kill you. You’re nothing to me. I don’t want you here, but the alpha says I have to take you. My worthless brother didn’t want me in his life, but I get stuck with you because my brother decided he wants to start a new life somewhere else.”
Tears had blinded her. She wanted to run away, but she didn’t know where to go. She was afraid he would kill her if she told another adult; and the murderous glare in his eyes left her no doubt he would follow through on his threat. She learned to hide the bruises and walk tall, even though her body ached from the beatings. When he was feeling particularly vicious, he’d use a belt on her. The scars that had failed to heal over the years were from those wounds, scars that she sometimes felt went bone-deep.
Two years passed before someone finally noticed what was happening to her. She was taken from him and given to a widowed she-wolf to raise, while her uncle was kicked out of town and warned to never return. The female was kind to her, and after a few weeks of nightmares, she took Kammie to see a human shrink for help. That had helped a great deal, but the pack frowned on involving outsiders, so Kammie didn’t talk to anyone about her twice-weekly sessions. She didn’t have nightmares anymore, but there were times – like now – when she was faced with an agitated male who made her brain spin back in time to her uncle growling, furious over some slight within the pack that he felt was in some way her fault.
She shook herself out of her dark thoughts of the past. She knew that her uncle was gone and would never return to Wilde Creek. She didn’t have to be afraid of Row, because despite his size, he looked at her like she was the most important thing in his life. As if he couldn’t breathe unless they were touching. She’d never felt entirely safe with a male before, but she did feel safe with Row. Not that she’d admit it out loud to the gruff, stubborn bear.
She got out of the truck and walked up the short sidewalk to the front door. Standing on her tiptoes, she reached up, running her fingertips along the top of the door where she hid a key for emergencies. Her regular keys were, unfortunately, in the pocket of her jeans, which were in the woods where she’d left them when she shifted.
She unlocked her door, stepped inside, and held it open for Row. She shut and locked it behind them, and then gasped as he pushed her against it. His hands flattened against the door as he eased toward her, his gaze zeroing in on her mouth.
Her breath halted in her chest, and her heart began to pound. “Take off the shirt,” he said roughly.
She swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry. “I, um, what?”
“You smell of another male, and it’s making my bear angry. Unless you’d like me to go back to his home and kill him…take off the shirt.”
She pressed her lips into a thin line as her heart pounded. She couldn’t smell Adam; all she could smell was Row’s bear. He had a deep, woodsy scent that made her think about dark caves in the winter.
Her wolf wanted her to strip and wriggle against Row until every inch of her skin was saturated with his scent. It was an effort not to do what he demanded.
She decided to try being blunt. “I know you may feel like we’re mates, but I’m not looking for a mate.”
“You might not have been, but you’ve got one.” The muscles in his arms flexed, and a deeper scent filled the air between them. Her body flooded with heat, and it took all of her willpower not to free herself from the shirt.
“I’ll go take a shower. Then I won’t smell like anyone but me.”
His eyes were a deep brown that bordered on black. He stared at her as if he could divine all of her innermost thoughts if he looked at her long enough, and maybe he could. She didn’t really want to find out.
“Shower sounds fun,” he drawled.
While her wolf went woo-hoo, she put her hands firmly on his chest and pushed. He moved away, but she knew he did it because he chose to, not because she was that strong. If he’d wanted to stay, she would’ve had more luck pushing a brick wall. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Row. I’m going to take a shower and go to bed. You’re going to camp out on the couch. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“About being mates?” His brow arched.
“You’re stubborn.”
“I’m not the one who won’t take a shower with her mate.”
“You’re a stranger. A complete and utter stranger.”
He snarled and placed one of his hands on her chest, over her heart. The heat of his hand scorched her. “I’m not a stranger, Kammie. Not here. Your wolf knows what I am; why aren’t you listening?”
She could’ve done a hundred different things. Leaned into him. Hugged him. Dropped to her knees to investigate the rigid length that tented his sweatpants. Instead, she pushed his hand away. “You. Couch.”
He sighed, but eased away from her. She rushed away like her ass was on fire and disappeared into her bedroom. It took only a moment to grab a spare blanket and pillow and carry them out to the living room. Row stood at the front window, staring out. She took a moment to drool over how sexy he was. He was possibly the most gorgeous guy she’d ever met. That he was in her house, wanting to do naughty things with her, was quite an ego boost, but she’d never allow herself to get so caught up in her wild emotions that she forgot what she looked like under her clothes.
“There’s…food, in the fridge. Can I make you something to eat?”
He turned slowly until he faced her. His whole body was drawn tight, his muscles flexed as if it took a great effort for him to stand still. “No thank you, Adara.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s my people’s term for mate. Females are ‘adara,’ males are ‘adaro’.”
She’d never had a nickname before – not a nice one, anyway. She’d spent a lot of time being called names that weren’t nice at all when she was growing up. Even now there were females who called her freak under their breath when she was around. Row’s nickname for her made her stomach flip.
Slipping from the room as quickly as possible, Kammie gathered clothes to sleep in and locked herself in the bathroom. She dropped Adam’s shirt in the clothes hamper and turned on the shower, rolling her neck and exhaling. She was tempted to go out to Row, but caught sight of herself in the mirror and shoved those thoughts promptly away. Row was far too sexy to want to be shackled to her side forever. He might be noble in the darkness, but the light of day would change things.
Turning back to the shower, she stepped under the spray and forced herself to think about anything except the sexy bear in her living room.
It wasn’t easy.
Chapter 3
Row’s whole body ached, and his bear was slamming around in his skull, anxious to get to the she-wolf who was, for some strange reason, denying him the pleasure of her naked company. He’d never been one for self-denial, and leaving Kammie alone was one of the hardest things he’d ever done.
He wanted to be an honorable male for Kammie, and if she wanted to keep him at arms’ length…well, he’d let her, for now. He wasn’t sure why she pushed him away, but he suspected it had something to do with her scars. Perhaps she thought he’d find them repulsive. He’d have to find a way to show her that he didn’t care about them. Well, he cared because she’d been hurt, and he wanted to violently destroy whoever had caused them. The scars he’d felt on her back had been old, but that didn’t mean he was any less angry about them. But for her to believe that he actually cared about her scars – that he m
ight be disgusted by them – cut him deeply.
His dick had gone hard the moment he’d realized who she was in the woods; he was having a hard time lying on the couch instead of breaking the bathroom door down and finding out what she looked like wet and covered in suds. Ten minutes later, the shower turned off and the door opened. He was aware that she stood in the hallway for a long while, but she never said anything or came into the living room. He wished she would. He wished she’d let go of her insecurities and trust him, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen overnight.
She left the hallway and he heard the click of a lock, presumably to her bedroom door. As if a flimsy lock could hold him or his bear back. Didn’t she realize that it was only because he didn’t want to scare her that he was keeping his butt firmly on the couch?
Exhaling loudly, he ordered his bear to shut up, and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long, long night.
* * * * *
Racing through the woods, Row bellowed for Kammie, desperate to find her in the darkness. He couldn’t see past his nose, but he could smell her and feel her fear as if it were part of him. He bellowed again, warning whoever had her that he would not rest until she was safely in his arms.
Something warm touched his shoulder, and a soft voice breached the fevered madness that surrounded him. He gasped as his eyes opened. He felt Kammie near him and grabbed her, covering her body with his to protect her.
“Row!” She tugged on his ear sharply and he blinked, the woods fading as he stared down at her, underneath him on the couch.
He panted for breath, his gaze darting around as the realization that he wasn’t trying to find Kammie in the woods filled him. She was looking up at him in shock and confusion.
“I dreamed someone had taken you.”
Her mouth fell open. She stopped gripping his ear firmly and rubbed the lobe with her thumb and forefinger. “You did?”
Cracking his neck, he dropped his head to her neck and inhaled her sweet scent. He nodded and kissed her throat, feeling her pulse pounding beneath his lips. “I’m sorry if I scared you.”
Her hands rested on his shoulders tentatively. “It’s okay. I heard you growling, and when I came out here you were thrashing around. I thought you were having a nightmare.”
“I was. The thought of you being taken from me is the very definition of a nightmare.”
She sighed deeply. “Oh, Row. You can’t keep saying things like that.”
He lifted from her throat and stared down at her, tracing the line of her jaw with his fingertip. Her skin was smooth and soft. He followed her jaw to her ear, and then smoothed his finger over her cheek before lightly rubbing the swell of her lower lip. It was dark in the room, but his enhanced eyesight allowed him to see her in spite of the lack of light. She was so beautiful.
“Let me see you, Kammie,” he whispered.
“No.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I never show anyone.”
“Then I’ll be the first and the last.”
He kissed her gently, and after a brief moment she melted against him. Her hands tightened on his shoulders as he pushed his tongue into her mouth and her sweet taste filled him. He slid his arms under her and pulled her close, sliding his tongue against hers as she finally began to kiss him back. Passion flared through him, and he groaned as she pressed her hips against his.
He lifted from her mouth and kissed across her cheek, tugging on her earlobe lightly with his teeth. She shivered and dug her fingernails into his shoulders. He kissed down her neck, licking and nibbling her skin. Tugging the collar of her top aside, he pressed his lips to her shoulder, rubbing his teeth against her flesh.
He slid one hand from behind her back to her waist and tugged upward on her top. She stiffened immediately, her welcoming arms turning rigid as she pushed frantically at him. “No, Row, please don’t.”
He snarled and pushed off the couch, his bear clamoring inside him to rip her clothes off and stop her from putting any barriers between them. He stormed to the wall and slapped the light switch, turning the overhead light on. “Look at me,” he demanded.
Kammie sat up, blinking rapidly and shielding her eyes from the bright light. She was wearing a long-sleeved top and lounge pants, completely covered from her neck down. “What?”
He turned slowly and showed her his back. She gasped softly. Part of him wanted to turn around and comfort her, but he knew she needed to see his scars. He never looked at his own back, but he knew the scars intimately, because of the pain that they’d brought; the thick scar that cut across his back from shoulder to hip, the claw marks where a male had tried to pull his ribs out, and would’ve succeeded if Row hadn’t broken those claws off. There were other, smaller scars, born of less life-endangering fights, but they were there. A map of his successes in battles and his defeats. Times when he’d nearly died, and times he’d been victorious.
“I said your scars don’t matter, and they don’t.” He turned his head to look behind him. “Unless mine bother you. Would you have me wear a shirt for the rest of our lives together?”
“Row.” She whispered his name like it was the most significant word in the world. “What happened to you?”
He turned slowly. Her gaze roamed his chest and he touched his most recent scar there. “We call them battles. The kings of neighboring sleuths organize them and pit their best warriors against each other.”
“‘Sleuth’ is what you call your bear group?”
He nodded. “Bears’ claws cause a lot of damage, and our natural ability to heal is very slow. It’s why I scar instead of healing completely.”
She swallowed audibly. “I didn’t know that it was different for bears than wolves.”
“Wolves seem to have gotten the luck of the genetic draw when it comes to healing.”
Her hands clenched, gripping the fabric of her pink pants. He realized what he’d said and shook his head, mentally kicking himself. “I’m sorry, that was a fucking stupid thing to say.”
“No, it’s okay.” She seemed to force herself to relax. He wanted to ask her about her scars. He’d been thinking about getting her naked since she’d put on that male’s shirt, but now he was focused on seeing her scars and then killing whoever had hurt her.
He walked to her slowly, gauging her reaction to ensure he didn’t scare her. She was tense, but she didn’t smell of fear. He dropped to his knees in front of her and laid his hands over hers. They were smaller than his, and her skin was so much softer. The sweet, natural scent of her wrapped around him, and he stifled a groan at how amazing it was.
He looked down and picked out a scar on her forearm. It was narrow but long, stretching across her elbow. He bent and ran his lips across the old wound, wishing he could take the pain from her. He knew the scar had long since stopped hurting, but the emotional hurt still lingered for his mate. She didn’t like getting naked because of her scars, so he’d have to prove that he didn’t care about them.
She inhaled shakily, and her heartrate spiked. He glanced up at her as he kissed the point of the scar. She was fragile right now, he could see that. If he pushed her, she might start shoving those walls between them.
“Would you lay with me, Kammie? I think I had a nightmare because you weren’t with me. I promise nothing will happen between us, but I need you.”
Her eyes glistened suddenly. “You do?”
He cupped her cheek. “Yes.”
She stood slowly and squeezed his hands. He straightened, towering over her by almost a foot. Time stood still while he waited for her to make the first move. She stared up at him for what felt like an eternity. He opened his mouth to tell her that they could stay on the couch if she’d be more comfortable, but she turned and walked toward her room, keeping their hands joined. He followed – hell, he’d follow her anywhere – and when he crossed the threshold into her bedroom, his bear did cartwheels in his head.
She climbed onto the bed, and he joined her, stretching out
on his back and keeping himself very still. He wanted to grab her and hold her tight; it was an act of sheer will to keep from doing so.
She knelt next to him and shivered. “You’re my first.” His brows rose and she snorted out a laugh. “I don’t mean my first-first, I mean the first male to ever be in my bedroom.” She wrung her hands. “I just wanted you to know that. I’m not…comfortable sleeping with males.”
“I won’t touch you unless you want me to.”
“That’s the problem.”
“What is?”
“I do want you to touch me, but I’m scared.”
He stroked the top of her hand with his index finger and she seemed to relax slightly. “Just lay next to me, sweetheart. Let’s leave the rest for the morning.”
Stiffly, she followed his request, laying on her side and staring at him. Her lower lip was swollen from where she kept biting it. Her eyes were wide, and her body was stiff. He could hear her heart beating quickly. He doubted she’d ever fall asleep in her current state.
“Would it help if I turned over?” he offered.
She smiled. “You’re very accommodating, considering that about two hours ago you had me pinned to a tree.”
“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Worry flashed through him. He’d been running on instinct, but that was no excuse. “I’m sorry I was rough.”
She put her hand on his shoulder, right near an old scar, her thumb barely grazing the ridge of it. Her gaze strayed to the mark and she shook her head slightly. “I’m fine, really.”