The Scarred Heart (Wilde Creek Book 5)

by R. E. Butler

  Inhaling deeply, Kammie closed her eyes and lay her head on the pillow. She didn’t move her hand from his shoulder. “Good night, Row.”

  He was humbled to the very center of his being. For a female who’d been mistreated to the extent she had been to allow a male she didn’t know to share her bed – she was far more courageous than she believed herself to be.

  He knew he wouldn’t really sleep. His bear was too consumed with the need to keep her safe. Closing his eyes, he inhaled her sweet scent and let himself drift off into a light sleep, his bear ready to do anything to protect their mate.

  * * * * *

  Row woke feeling refreshed despite having slept lightly. Kammie’s house was quiet, but his bear had taken every tiny noise to mean something dangerous – from the heater kicking on periodically to the rumble of cars on the street – and as a result he kept startling awake. Not that he minded; he’d take a million sleepless nights if it meant sleeping next to Kammie. Her warm hand on his shoulder had meant more to him than all the meaningless sex he’d had over the years.

  He wanted to make breakfast for Kammie, but he had zero ability in the kitchen. He stared at the carton of eggs in her fridge and knew if he attempted to cook them, he’d make a total mess of it. Pulling open one of the drawers, Rowe found a plastic bag of leftover pizza slices and decided they were his best option.

  He arranged the slices on a plate, put them in the microwave to heat, and then popped a pod in the coffee maker. The pizza was hot by the time he brewed a second cup for himself, and he opened several of the cabinets before finding a tray that would hold everything.

  He walked into the bedroom as Kammie rolled over with a yawn. “Morning, Adara,” he said.

  She blinked and rubbed her eyes. “Good morning.”

  He set the tray down on the bed and sat next to it. He looked over the contents, embarrassed that he didn’t have more skill in the kitchen. A male of worth should be able to provide a better meal for his mate.

  He looked at her and saw her eyes were shining with tears. “You made me breakfast?”

  “It’s not much, I know,” he said, grimacing.

  “Oh no, it’s amazing. It’s the…sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

  A tear slid down her cheek and he brushed it away. “Really?”

  She sniffled. “Yeah. I’m the one who works for everyone else; I’m an omega. A really low omega.”

  “I don’t know what that means. What’s an omega?”

  She fixed her coffee with one spoon of sugar and enough milk to turn it a pale beige. “Omegas are the lowest pack members. We’re not ranked, but some omegas are given more responsibility than others or are treated better. All females are omegas, except for the alpha female.”

  “Female bears aren’t ranked. They’re either mated or unmated, and the unmated females usually live with their families. I guess the females are like the omegas in your pack, but everyone just pitches in for whatever needs done. The king is the boss and the sleuth does what he says. There’s no fighting for rank. Do your males fight?”

  She nodded and took a sip of her coffee. “On the full moons, when the alpha allows it. I do a lot of work for the alpha and his mate. I cook and clean for them, and there are other females who expect me to work. I should be at work right now, actually.” Her voice trailed off and she looked away with a frown.

  Row reached over the tray and cupped her chin. She turned her head. “What is it, Kammie?”

  “I’m just not very important. Not at all, actually. If I didn’t have cooking skills I’d be entirely invisible.” She pushed his hand away. “It’s why you won’t want to stick around.”

  He snarled. “I don’t care what wolves think. In case you didn’t catch me in the fur yesterday, I’m not a wolf.”

  “I know you’re not a wolf. But you’re still a guy.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “It means that I know what will happen if you ever really see me.”

  He stood up, anger flashing through him at her low opinion of herself, and of him. Gesturing to his upper body, he said, “Do you think I’m so shallow that I would expect you to have flawless skin? I. Don’t. Care.”

  The coffee mug trembled in her hand and she put it down on the tray. “It’s different for males. A mate with battle scars would be valued for his ferocity. I was beaten by my uncle when I was twelve. My scars make me weak.”

  A low growl escaped his parted lips, and he shoved his borrowed sweats to the floor. Kammie gasped as he fisted his dick and slapped his other hand against his thigh. A thick scar traveled from the inside of his thigh to his hip. “A king brought a secret weapon to a battle two months ago. The male was part lion. Even though full shifting is outlawed during the battles, his king decided it would make for a good fight if we were allowed to shift. My king and I weren’t told. The male shifted and tried to claw my dick off. So tell me, Kammie,” he said harshly, “could you wrap those lush lips of yours around me and not feel pity for me? You think I look at you and all I see are scars? Look at me. I’m nothing but scars. They brought me here to you and I’m not going anywhere. If you’re an omega, then I’ll be one with you.”

  He’d never been more serious in his life. And his dick had never been so hard. It felt like steel in his hand, and in spite of the unpleasant nature of their conversation, he couldn’t stop from stroking himself root to tip while her beautiful brown eyes followed the motion.

  She slid off the bed, her knees hitting the carpeting as she reached for him. He knew he should step away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Her fingers touched the scar, and his dick twitched.

  “Did you kill him?” she whispered, her breath brushing over his dick like a caress.

  “I wasn’t allowed to. But he never used his claws like that again. I pulled them out after I choked him unconscious, and claws never grow back in half-breeds. He came after me at the last battle, wanted a chance to beat me and get his pride back or some bullshit. My king sent him running from town with his tail between his legs.”

  She leaned forward to kiss the edge of the scar by his hip, and everything inside him rioted. “Kammie, you don’t have to touch me,” he said, his bear bellowing for him to shut up.

  She nuzzled the scar. “I can’t help it. You smell so good.”

  Her fingers were trembling when she touched his thighs, but they tightened suddenly as she licked the length of his scar and then nipped at the hand covering his dick. She cast her eyes upward and met his gaze. He released his dick slowly, not daring to breathe.

  She licked him, softly and slowly at first until she reached the tip, then swirling her tongue around the head and sucking lightly. One hand left his thigh and wrapped around his length, and the other stroked his scar. He hadn’t thought that the scar was an erogenous zone, but as Kammie worked her way down his dick and explored the thickened skin, he felt like her fingers were stroking every part of him.

  Locking his knees, he threaded his fingers through her soft hair and watched her bob her head up and down. Her eyes never left him, their brown depths simmering with a passion that he wouldn’t have expected given the conversation they’d had moments ago. He wished she was naked, so he could see every inch of her creamy skin. He’d kiss her scars just like she’d kissed his. The way her fingers worked across it on his thigh, he knew he’d never think of it in a bad way again.

  She hummed around him, making a sound like a wolfy purr. He groaned, and his fingers tightened in her hair as his hips flexed. Her mouth was a hot heaven, her tongue doing wicked things to the sensitive underside of his cock.

  “Fuck, Kammie,” he groaned.

  Her nails scraped lightly around the scar. His whole body jerked as her hand tightened on the base of his dick and she sucked him deep. Heat blazed through him as his balls tightened and his climax tingled at the base of his spine.

  “Kammie, baby,” he whispered harshly in warning.

  She moaned and sucked him
harder. As he stared into her eyes, he saw them shift, a rapid blink from brown to amber, and he knew her wolf was right there with her and approving of their connection. His climax thundered down on him, and he let go, growling loudly as she drank him down.

  She released his dick and kissed his scar tenderly. She looked up from where she knelt in front of him, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed with passion. “You are so beautiful,” he said hoarsely, massaging her scalp. Truthfully, he’d never seen anyone as gorgeous as her.

  She closed her eyes with a soft hum, and his dick twitched. He dropped to his knees, scenting her arousal. Leaning toward her, he pressed his lips to hers, caging her against the side of the bed with his hands on either side of her. She opened her mouth, sucking on his tongue with the same fervor as she had his dick. Her hands roamed up his arms, curving around his muscles as if she was trying to memorize them. She hooked her hands over his shoulders and flexed her hips, her knees spreading slightly between his.

  He dropped one of his hands slowly from the bed and cupped her pussy through her thin pants. He could feel how hot and wet she was, even though the barrier of clothing. Rubbing her firmly, he nibbled on her lips.

  “I want to make you come.” He growled the words, his bear rolling inside him to get closer.

  Her hands tightened on his shoulders. “Row,” she moaned as he rubbed circles over her clit.

  He moved his hand slowly up the front of her pants, and she tensed, looking at him through half-closed eyelids. He wanted to strip her in the worst way. Taste her. Make her come a hundred times. He knew she wasn’t ready for that, but he had to get her off. Straightening slightly, he leaned over her, pressing his lips to hers as he pushed his hand inside her pants. His fingers found the edge of her panties and he slid them under the waistband. She relaxed fractionally, as if she had been worried he was going to do more than touch her pussy. She was slick with arousal. He touched her clit for a brief moment, circling the tight bud before sliding his finger down and testing her heat.

  She moaned as he pushed inside her with first one, and then two fingers. His free hand fisted the covers as she leaned harder against the bed and pulled him closer. He curved his fingers, stroking her, and she shuddered and pulled free from his mouth, her breath gusting over his skin.

  Her hips canted and he growled, nuzzling her throat. “Ride my fingers, baby,” he said.

  Her hands gripped his shoulders and her head fell back against the bed as she moved, fucking his fingers. Her honey gushed over his hand as he found the spot that made her scent deepen. He latched his thumb onto her clit, circling it, lifting his head and watching her as she spiraled toward pleasure. Her eyes opened, bright amber again. Her fangs slid down from her gums and she growled, her pussy clenching his fingers. He thumbed her clit faster and stroked her deeper.

  An instinct flashed through him and he bared his throat to her. Her pussy clenched and she snarled softly, whispering mine as her fangs embedded in his skin. She came, moaning against his neck as her fangs dug deeper into his flesh. He gentled her with soft, slow strokes and she pulled her mouth away, her tongue softly licking the wounds.

  He slipped his hand from inside her pants and wrapped his arms around her. She clung to him, buried her face in his neck, and started to cry. Carefully he pulled her onto his lap as he switched places with her, leaning against the bed and cradling her close. Something cold touched his back, and he realized the coffee had spilled. He made a mental note to deal with it later.

  Unsure what to say, he simply held her, stroking her back through her thin top and feathering kisses wherever he could reach. Her fingers tangled in his hair and she took in a deep, shuddering breath.

  “You didn’t push me.” Her voice was soft and raw, and so filled with awe that it broke his heart.

  “You’re mine to cherish and protect. If you want to keep your clothes on for now, it’s your choice to make.” He tipped her chin until she looked at him. “You set the pace, Kammie. Just please don’t shut me out completely.”

  She blinked, and tears spilled over her cheeks. He brushed them away with his thumb. “What if I never get over my fears?”

  “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Her gaze trailed down to his neck. The wound throbbed, but it was already healing. It wasn’t as if he cared about the pain; he’d take her fangs in his flesh any day.

  “Do bears mark?” she asked.

  “Not like wolves.”

  “Then how did you know what I needed when I wasn’t even sure myself?” She met his gaze.

  “Instinct, I guess.”

  “What do bears do?”

  “The couple go to a sacred den, carved into a hillside. It’s been used for generations. They anoint each other with oil, and they each use one claw to mark the other’s upper arm. It’s a crescent shape, which harkens back to bears’ attachment to the crescent moon.” He stroked the spot on her arm, thinking about how he wouldn’t want to mar her skin further. But he also knew that if he didn’t, she might wonder how serious he was about her. He kissed her gently. “Then they make love on a pile of old furs and keep each other warm all night. In the morning, the sleuth celebrates with a big breakfast.”

  A tiny smile curved the corner of her mouth. “That’s cool. I like old traditions.”

  “Aside from the biting thing, what do wolves do?”

  “When mates come together, at the next full moon the alphas introduce them as a mated pair and recognize their mating, and then everyone hunts.”

  He liked the simplicity of it. Kammie’s pack was here, and wolves were social with their own kind. After he made sure that his sister was taken care of, he could take Kammie to meet his mom, mate her in the sacred den, and then come back to Wilde Creek to live. He didn’t care if he had to work by her side for the rest of their lives. It would be a nice change of pace from beating people for sport.

  Her stomach growled. “I guess we got distracted from breakfast,” he said.

  She blushed, but smiled sweetly. “I can honestly say I’ve never had pizza for breakfast.”

  “It’s the breakfast of champions, baby,” he promised as they stood.

  “Oh no,” Kammie said. Row turned to see that both cups of coffee had spilled, coating the tray, plate, and bedspread with dark liquid.

  She moved to lift the tray and he stopped her, pulling her gently away. “I’ll clean this up.”

  “Row,” she protested, but he shook his head.

  “I want you to go out to the living room and relax on the couch.”

  “Really?” Her brow arched.

  He nodded. “Go on, baby.”

  She stared at him intently for a long moment and then walked out of the room. He righted the coffee mugs on the tray and lifted it, carrying it into the kitchen. Glancing into the living room, he saw Kammie sitting on the couch like he’d asked and he couldn’t help but grin. Returning to the bedroom, he carefully stripped the bed. The coffee had soaked through the comforter and a blanket underneath, but the sheets were fine, so he left them.

  “Okay,” he said as he walked into the living room, “I do need your help to tell me where the laundry room is.”

  “I can do the laundry later.”

  “I caused the mess by being too caught up in your addictive scent to move the tray from the bed.”

  Her head tilted slightly as she regarded him. “You probably thought I wouldn’t want to keep going if you stopped to move the tray.”

  He grinned. “Which is why I’m cleaning up.”

  “It’s the door off the kitchen.”

  He smiled and turned away, finding the laundry closet. He was definitely not in the habit of doing household chores, but he could do laundry, and he’d learn everything else for Kammie. When the comforter and blanket were churning in soapy water, he closed the closet doors and walked into the kitchen.

  He brewed two more cups of coffee and carried the milk and sugar out to the living room. Sitting next to her, he kissed her templ
e and said, “I don’t want you to cook breakfast for me, but you’re out of pizza.”

  She grinned broadly. “I don’t mind.”

  “You said you work for others in the pack; you shouldn’t have to do that with me.”

  “It’s different.”

  “How?”

  “You know.” Her nose wrinkled and he kissed it.

  “No, I don’t. Tell me.”

  “Because…” she bit her lip and her gaze darted over his shoulder.

  Cupping her face, he drew her attention back to him. “Tell me, Kammie.”

  “Because we’re mates.”

  He swore his bear just did a cartwheel in his head. “You didn’t want to admit it last night.”

  She nuzzled his palm. “I know. I’m not really sure what will happen, but I can’t deny who you are to me. My wolf won’t let me. Last night was the most peaceful sleep I’ve ever had, and I know it was because of you.”

  “And then there was earlier, on the floor,” he said softly.

  Her cheeks flamed. “That was nice, too.”

  “More than nice.”

  “Awesome.”

  “It was for me, too.”

  “Let me make you breakfast. Not because I have to, but because I want to.”

  “Only if I can help.”

  She nodded and they stood, moving to the kitchen together. For the next twenty minutes, Kammie gave Row a mini-lesson on breakfast and they were soon eating scrambled eggs, toast, and sausage. It was possibly the best breakfast he’d ever had, and it was simply because Kammie had made it for him.

  As the morning passed they talked about everything, but the heat that still simmered between them. She wouldn’t say anything more about the uncle who’d given her the scars, but Row knew that in time she’d trust him enough to share her whole life with him. He held nothing back from her, and she took everything in stride. He’d wondered if she’d be disgusted by the fighting he’d been part of for so long, but she seemed to understand that he really didn’t have a choice in the matter. He might be the only bear in the wolf pack, but as long as he had Kammie, he didn’t much care about that or anything else. Her happiness and safety were paramount to him now. Nothing else mattered but her.