by Moira Rogers
In seconds the power in Brynn went from nervous to tense, flaring so erratically that it drowned out whatever that flicker had been. Brynn caught Sasha’s arm with a soft, distressed noise and tugged her toward the front of the store. “Let’s pay and get out of here. We need to be with Joe and Dylan.”
In spite of her haste, Brynn dragged her to the last open register, at the far end of the store. The bored-looking woman rang their purchases quickly, and Sasha glanced around, watching for anything out of the ordinary.
It wasn’t until they headed for the exit, bags in hand, that the same odd thrill of energy tickled through Sasha. She looked over and found the cashier in the first lane watching them with fear in her eyes.
Brynn’s gaze followed hers, and she stiffened. Her nostrils flared, and her hand tightened almost painfully around Sasha’s arm. The cashier dropped her gaze and hunched her shoulders in a clear show of submission, and something in Brynn’s tense stance eased.
They walked out into the midmorning sun, and Sasha pulled her arm carefully free of Brynn’s grasp. “Do you think she has a pack here?”
“I don’t know.” Brynn’s voice sounded a little lost. “But she was so scared. Why was she so scared of me?”
Sasha thought of the raw, jagged power that burst from Brynn when she was scared or upset. “It might not be you. She might not be used to other wolves.”
“I should have known she was there. But I couldn’t smell anything but cleanser and food and too many humans, not for sure…” Brynn shivered. “But I knew I didn’t belong there. I don’t belong here at all. This is someone else’s territory.”
“We’re not staying. Just passing through, so there’s no reason for anyone to get upset.”
“I know.” But Brynn sounded unsure. She shivered again and reached for Sasha’s hand. “I have a bad feeling. We need to…we need to go. I need to find Joe.”
They’d parked the truck in the lot of an auto-parts chain store a few blocks away. Sasha gripped her friend’s hand and tried to look reassuring. “It’s okay. Come on. We’ll hurry.”
They made it to the end of the street before Brynn froze. Her head whipped to the side and both of her bags hit the sidewalk. “Dylan. Dylan’s…” A growl rumbled up from somewhere in her chest, and she shot off down the side street without another word.
“What?” Panic washed over her in a cold wave, and she followed Brynn at a run. “What’s going—”
Then she heard it, the dull sounds of fists hitting flesh and pained grunts and growls. She rounded the corner of the building and stumbled when she saw three men in a circle around Dylan.
Dylan looked a little worse for the wear, but he wasn’t the only one. As Sasha watched he ducked another punch that was almost too fast to see and sent the attacker barreling into one of his companions. The third grazed Dylan’s shoulder with his fist a second before Brynn let out an enraged snarl and jumped on his back.
“No—” Dylan’s gaze snapped to Brynn and then past her to land on Sasha. He met her eyes, and grim determination disappeared in a rush of concern that sent his power surging toward her.
Oh God, run.
The thought echoed through her head, but it wasn’t hers. One of the men punched Dylan in the back, and a sudden flash of pain startled Sasha. Feeling what he felt meant at least part of the spell she’d done in Red Rock was still active.
She and Dylan were still linked.
A second man grabbed Dylan’s shirt and drew back his fist. Sasha closed her eyes against the sight, clenched her fists and let the gathering magic inside her explode.
She felt when it suffused Dylan. A low snarl rumbled out of his chest, and Sasha opened her eyes just in time to see Dylan slide out of the path of the punch, moving fast even for a werewolf. His hand closed on his attacker’s arm and he pivoted and jerked back hard enough to send the man stumbling into the wall behind them.
Brynn hit the wall a second later with a pained grunt. The man who had shoved her there glanced around and, obviously judging him to be the greater threat, advanced on Dylan.
It gave Brynn time to gasp in a breath. “Dylan, there’s another one—grocery store—”
The man advancing on Dylan spun and rushed Brynn. Dylan lunged and grabbed the back of his shirt, and Sasha could feel his confusion trembling through the magic stretched out between them.
“Stop,” she urged quietly. “The one in the store is a woman, and she was scared to see us. That’s all they are, all of them. Scared.”
Dylan swept the man’s feet out from under him and dropped him to the ground. “Stay,” he commanded, his voice low.
The man snarled, and one of the remaining men took off at a run in the direction of the grocery store. Brynn lunged away from the wall as if to follow, but froze when Dylan snapped her name. “Brynn. Back down.” His voice carried the power Sasha had given him, and Brynn froze.
The only strange werewolf left standing watched Dylan with brittle fear. “You came into our territory. You were going after Michael’s mate.”
“No. I wasn’t.” Dylan held out his hand to Sasha without looking at her. “We’re only passing through.”
Though he tried to hide the pain, it hit her when she slid her hand into his. He tensed at her gasp, and Sasha forced herself to relax and breathe. “It’s dangerous to attack strangers. You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
Dylan pulled Sasha against his side, tucking her body to his in a gesture that silently laid claim to her. “Brynn, are you okay?”
Brynn lifted her fingers to her split lip and winced. “A little bruised. I’ll heal.”
“Good.” Dylan looked steady and confident, but the arm around her waist shook. “Go look after your packmate before her mate shows up. He’s a lot less understanding than I am.”
The man waited for his companion to groan his way to his feet. When they were both upright they backed away in wary silence until they reached the edge of the building, then broke into a run.
When they were alone in the alley, Sasha squeezed Dylan’s hand. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll live.” He pressed a hand to his side and winced. “One of them might have cracked one of my ribs before you showed up, though. They were playing for keeps.”
The lump in her throat threatened to choke her. “We dropped our bags back there. I’ll get them, and we can get out of here.”
Brynn shook her head and stalked past them. “You stay with him, Sasha. I’ll get our stuff. I need to move.”
“We go together,” Dylan countered, and though the words were quiet, they were still firm. He kept his hand curled around Sasha’s as he squared his shoulders and followed after Brynn.
It didn’t take long to retrieve their purchases. Brynn gathered up the items that had rolled out of one of the bags and picked up everything without a word, leaving Sasha to help support Dylan as they made their way back to the Blazer.
Joe looked up from the back of the SUV, frowned and stomped toward them. He didn’t stop until he had Brynn’s face framed in his hands and tilted up to the light. “What the fuck happened?”
Brynn’s eyes drifted shut as the wild magic inside her found a focus in Joe and began to settle. Some of the harsh magical glare that had followed her since the fight faded, and Sasha looked away.
After a few moments of silence Brynn answered his question. “There’s a pack here. Weak wolves. One of their women was in the grocery store and they didn’t like it when Dylan headed in that direction.”
Joe touched Brynn’s lip and swore. “Do we need to do anything?”
“No.” Sasha urged Dylan to the backseat of the truck. “We just need to go.”
For a moment, she thought Joe might argue. It was clear he was fighting instincts that told him no one hurt his friends, his mate, and walked away. “All right.”
Sasha opened the door and helped Dylan onto the seat. “I can help you.”
Dylan smiled wanly. “I’m okay. Let’s just get on the roa
d. Trust me, in a day or two I’ll be good as new.”
He’d dealt with beatings so often he knew how long it would take to heal. The fact tore through her, leaving pain in its wake as she climbed in after him. “But if I can help, why not?”
Brynn buckled her seatbelt, and Joe started the engine before he even settled into his seat. “We’ll be on the interstate in a few minutes.”
Sasha touched Dylan’s shoulder. “Come here.”
After a few moments he gave in and inched across the seat. “Is whatever you want to do safe?”
“I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“Sasha.” His tone was chiding.
She held out her hand. “It’s safe.” He didn’t have to know she’d do it even if it wasn’t.
He studied her for so long she wondered if he’d caught a stray thought. But then he laid his hand in hers.
She closed her eyes and concentrated. At once, his pain began to seep into the corners of her consciousness. She could draw it in, take it from him, but he’d pull away as soon as he realized what she was doing.
Instead, she focused on smoothing out the rough, jagged edges of his pain to make it more bearable. It took longer, and she knew the effect would be minimal. He would still hurt, and the knowledge made her ache, but this was all he would allow.
Finally, she opened her eyes and whispered, “Not so bad, right?”
“Thank you.” He squeezed her hand with a smile, and she got the feeling he was thanking her more for her restraint than for her action. “We can pick up some first aid supplies before we check into the motel tonight, if you don’t mind patching me up a little.”
It was a far cry from the way Sasha had planned to spend the evening, but she didn’t care. She’d be with Dylan, and she was starting to realize that was what mattered most. “I can do that.”
Chapter Six
Whatever Brynn and Joe were discussing, it was probably important. It was probably vital to their mission or their survival or something of dire consequence that meant Dylan should absolutely pay attention.
And he might have been able to, if he’d sat on the other side of the table from Sasha.
He inched his leg over and rubbed his knee against hers. Her breath caught in the tiniest little gasp, barely even audible, and still it shot heat straight to his cock. His body didn’t care that his ribs still ached when he moved too fast or that his back was a patchwork of bruises in the ugly shades it took humans a week to develop. He’d tasted her, felt her shudder under his hands…
The two nights spent sleeping chastely next to her while she worried over his injuries had been unpleasantly like torture.
A glass hit the table with a hollow thud and Dylan started. Brynn glared at him from across the table, though he couldn’t tell if it was frustration or grudging amusement hiding behind her wide gray eyes. “How many hits to the head did you take, Dylan?”
If he spoke now, his voice would betray his arousal in a heartbeat. He lifted his water glass to buy time and wished he could dump it over his head. Or onto my lap…
Joe rubbed the side of his face. “Apparently, Adam Dubois has maintained a peaceful relationship with the Bedagi Creek pack for quite a few years now. Gavin doesn’t know if Dubois is aware that something’s up in town, though, because he can’t reach him.”
Sasha seemed to be paying rapt attention to Joe’s words. Then Dylan felt her hand sliding up his thigh.
If it slid much higher, Sasha was going to find out just how much her touch affected him. Dylan cleared his throat and tried to concentrate on Joe’s words. “How does Gavin usually get in touch with the guy?”
“There’s a young alpha pair that lives outside town. They’re friendly with him and handle all of his business so he can be a reclusive, whittling hermit or something.”
All Dylan could feel was the warmth of Sasha’s fingers, taunting him even through the fabric of his jeans. He scrambled for something intelligent to say, but only one thing came to mind. “Oh.”
Brynn laughed and pushed away from the table. “I’m leaving before they do it on the table. You going to stay and watch, baby, or are you coming with me?”
“Right behind you, sweetheart.” Joe threw several folded bills on the table and rose. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow. And remember, this place is nicer than the last few we stayed at. They probably have cameras in the elevators.”
Dylan tried to summon a little righteous indignation, but he couldn’t even manage that. Not when he’d been considering trying to get a hand under Sasha’s shirt during the interminable ride to the third floor. “See you tomorrow, Brynn. Joe.”
Sasha waved to them and laughed ruefully. “I suppose we’re not very subtle.”
He rubbed his thumb along her wrist. “I’m not feeling very subtle right now.”
“Neither am I.” Her eyes met his, and he saw his own need reflected in her beautiful eyes. “Can we go upstairs?”
Joe had probably dropped enough money to cover their bill and then some, but Dylan wrestled another few bills free of his wallet before pulling Sasha to her feet. “Yes. Upstairs.”
It was only a few steps to their hotel next door, a quaint brick building with four floors of small guest rooms. Sasha stopped outside and fixed him with a stern look. “Before we get all…wrapped up in each other, are you all right?”
No power on earth could compel him to admit to any infirmity that might earn him another night relegated to the role of patient. Sasha seemed to have an almost uncanny knack for sensing when he was downplaying his own discomfort, so he didn’t bother lying. Instead he bent down and let his breath dance over her ear. “If it makes you feel better I’ll let you be on top.”
She sucked in a shaky breath and gripped his shirt. “You fight dirty.”
“Mmm.” He kissed her earlobe gently before straightening and urging her through the hotel door. “Just wait.”
The elevator dinged as soon as Sasha pushed the button, and she tugged him into the car. “Think there’s really a camera?”
“The more important question…” the doors whispered shut and he caught her waist and dragged her to him, “…is if we care.”
Her head fell back, and the pale softness of her throat called to him. “I only care about you.”
Mine. It was a primal feeling, and an unmistakable one. The wolf didn’t seem to care that Sasha wasn’t of their kind. There was magic in her, power that made them both giddy, and the territorial instincts he’d never felt before he’d met her roared to life. He could sense the flutter of her pulse in her throat as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her skin.
Sasha whimpered and slipped her hands into his hair. “Are you sure it won’t hurt you?”
“Sweetheart, we are rapidly reaching the point where stopping is going to be a lot less comfortable.” He dragged his tongue over her pulse before teasing her with the softest scrape of teeth. “If you want to stop, tell me. But if you don’t…”
“I don’t want to stop,” she murmured.
He barely heard the soft chime announcing the elevator had reached their floor. He glanced up just long enough to make sure no one was in the way before backing her out of the elevator. For a moment he was tempted to hoist her up and carry her to their room. Go easy on your bruised ribs until later, you macho ass.
Sasha laughed and reached into his front pocket. He couldn’t help but groan, not when her fingers were so damn close to his aching cock. She flashed him a wicked smile when she freed their room key and held it aloft. “Let me open the door.”
Dylan spun her and urged her down the hallway. “Sooner would be better, or I’m going to start sticking my hands in your clothes.”
“Promises, promises.” In spite of her casual words, her hands shook when she tried to unlock the door.
Dylan slid his hand down her arm to cover hers as he molded his body to her back. He fit the key into the lock with a low laugh. “Nice to know I’m having an effect.”
“Like you c
an’t tell anytime I’m near you.”
He rubbed against her ass just enough to make it clear how turned on he was, then grasped the door handle. “Now you can tell too.”
Sasha moaned and fumbled with the door. It swung open, and she stumbled inside. Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and her face was flushed. “Shut the door.” She began to unsnap her shirt as she spoke.
He reached for her before the door slammed shut. One tug undid the remaining three snaps, and Dylan dropped to his knees in front of her as he dragged her shirt down. His mouth landed on the soft skin just below the band of her bra, and he growled softly and cupped her ass. “I can smell how much you want me.”
Her knees buckled, and she fell to the floor too. Her skirt fluttered up, and she dragged his hand high on her bare thigh as she kissed him, hard.
Even the nagging pain from his bruised ribs faded in the rush of pleasure that flooded him. He got one hand into her hair as he took control of the kiss. Dominance in bed had never seemed terribly important before, but he couldn’t deny the instinctive thrill at the way her body melted for him. He wanted her stretched out in front of him, bare to his touch and begging for him. He wanted her so lost in sensation she couldn’t think of anything but him.
He tore his mouth from hers with a groan and got a good enough grip on her hips to lift her to the bed. Then he rose to his feet and dragged at his shirt, fighting to get it over his head without ripping it.
“Let me.” Sasha knelt on the bed and eased him out of the black cotton. She dusted his bare chest and shoulders with kisses and tiny teasing licks of her tongue. Dylan closed his eyes and threaded his fingers through her hair, content for the moment to let her explore.
She moaned again. This time, her breath feathered across his skin and made him shiver. Her hands fell to his belt, and she closed her teeth on the spot where his neck met his shoulder.
Instinct roused, swift and brutal, and he struggled against the sudden need to shove her to the bed and cover her body with his. His fingers tightened in her hair of their own volition, and he jerked her head back just enough to meet her eyes. “You keep doing things like that and you might not get a chance to be on top.”