by Carol Davis
Deep inside of Aaron, the wolf rumbled with anger.
“I mean…” Abby said. “I know what he did was wrong. I know I didn’t deserve all that. At least, I don’t think I did. I never gave him any reason to be ashamed of me. But they say when you get used to something, you keep seeking it out.”
She looked at him plaintively, hands wrung together so tightly that they were white with lack of blood.
“I want you to know something,” Aaron said.
“What?”
“That there are rules we abide by, for the good of the pack. For the good of our souls. They’ve allowed us to endure for hundreds of years. For the most part, we’re peaceful. Not violent.” He pulled in a breath. “In spite of that, I admit it would bring me a considerable amount of pleasure to chase down both those men and tear their throats out with my teeth.”
For a moment, Abby didn’t seem to know how to react. Then a single note of nervous laughter squeaked out of her.
Aaron sat down beside her on the bed and wrapped an arm around her. He set the cup aside, then used that hand to stroke her hair away from her face. “I’ll never let anyone harm you, Abby. With words or with deeds. The bond brings us together as partners, to ensure that our line will continue and be strong. But I promise you more than that. I promise to defend you.”
He paused again, examining the look on her face, then said firmly, “I promise to stand with you so that you can defend yourself.”
As if a dam had broken, tears began to pour down her face. She seemed embarrassed at first, then clutched his shirt with both hands and tried to smile.
“Nobody ever—” she stammered.
“Let it begin now, then. You have my word.”
He intended simply to stay there with her for a while, either sitting beside her or holding her in his arms until she felt ready to venture out into the world again, but the wolf didn’t feel like sitting. It nudged at him until he surrendered to kissing Abby tenderly and gently, tending to her with his lips the way the wolf would have licked her in the wild.
After a minute she shifted around so he could hold her more comfortably, looping her arms around his neck and shoulders, and began to return his kiss. He listened to her breathing even out, smiling at the way her heartbeat had moved into a different rhythm, one that said that yes, she was his mate, that she wanted him in every possible way and was having no more thoughts of leaving him.
His hands moved to her back to find the zipper of her dress and pulled it down so that he could slide the dress away from her shoulders, from her beautiful breasts.
After their swim she had put back on one of those little scraps of fabric humans called a bra—this one a delicate blue, mostly made of lace. Here in the dim light of the cabin, he was awed by it for a moment, as if he’d suddenly come upon a little nest of wildflowers he’d never seen before.
“This one clips in the front,” she said, and moved her still trembling hands to unfasten it.
He stopped her, capturing her hands in his own. “No. I want to look at it.”
“You’ve seen me wear them before.”
“I know. But you always take them off so quickly.”
He ran a finger along the edge of the lace lightly enough to make her giggle, then pushed the top of her dress down as far as it would go and leaned down to lick one of her breasts through the lace and pinch the nipple between his teeth.
“Do you like it?” she whispered.
“I want to tear it off you,” he said against her skin. “But I don’t want to ruin it. I want to see it again.”
“Just unfasten it.”
“Our females—”
“They don’t wear bras? I guess not. They’re really kind of stupid. And kind of uncomfortable, most of the time.”
Aaron got off the bed and tugged Abby off to stand in front of him, then pushed her dress down past her hips to puddle on the floor. Her lower undergarment wasn’t nearly as interesting as the bra, though it was the same color and was trimmed with the same lace. The bra intrigued him, the way it held her breasts up so that they pointed at him, almost begging him to ravage them.
Then again, that lower garment was shielding her sweet sex, preventing him from plunging into it.
He nearly leaped at her, intent on tearing those little bits of fabric away in spite of his desire to play with them again, but Abby gestured for him to wait. With her gaze locked on his, she hooked her thumbs underneath the waistband of the lower garment and began to inch it slowly down over her hips.
His cock answered that by swelling against his jeans, demanding to be set free.
Oh, this was torture—watching her tease that blue garment down her body toward the floor, toward her very mistreated feet. By the time she stepped away from it, he thought he would lose his mind, that the wolf would break free and seize what it wanted, without a bit of interest in flimsy human clothing.
His hands were shaking as he stripped off his shirt and shoes and jeans, and he stumbled a little as he tossed them away, out of reach.
She was wearing nothing but that little bra, that little blue flower.
Growling deep in his throat, he dropped to his knees and cupped her backside in his hands, drew her close to him and thrust his tongue toward her sex. The wolf hummed with pleasure inside him as he licked and poked and explored, drinking in her taste and her scent, thrilled by the way she was groaning.
When she began to wobble so much that he wasn’t sure she could remain standing, he laid her sideways across the bed and draped her legs over his shoulders. Then he renewed his assault, plunging his tongue deep inside her and stroking the insides of her thighs with his fingers as his nose teased at her clit.
Before long she was gasping, clutching at the blanket, pressing her heels against his back to push him deeper, closer. When she went over the edge, she let out a shrill shriek that made the wolf draw back and howl.
He gave her only a moment to recover before he climbed onto the bed, shifted her around so that she was lying fully on the mattress, and gave his aching cock the relief it needed by sliding it deep inside her.
She clenched around him immediately, tightly enough to make him groan, and when he began to thrust she matched his rhythm, breathing in deep gasps and again pushing him deeper and deeper.
“Aaron!” she cried out. “God, Aaron. Oh, God.”
It sounded almost desperate, keened from somewhere in the depths of her soul. She was clinging to him like a lifeline, powerfully enough that he knew he’d be bruised until he relaxed enough to allow his body to heal.
He spilled his seed inside her with a long, breathless moan that echoed the wolf’s cry of triumph.
Six
To Abby’s disappointment, Aaron wouldn’t agree to their staying at the cottage. They hadn’t brought enough provisions to last much longer, he said, and they couldn’t eat fish and mushrooms day after day.
He was firm about that being his reason for saying no, but she could see in his eyes that he felt the cabin wasn’t safe.
He thought Lane might come back, this time with the police—even though she’d assured him several times that that wouldn’t happen. Now that the old man had seen her here, alive and well, and could verify that Lane hadn’t killed her…
Lane had to be done with her now, she decided. After all, she’d practically thrown up on his shoes.
“Later,” Aaron finally conceded. “We can prepare, and come back later on. After the elders have made their decision.”
So they headed back to the village again, hand in hand, though both of them were ill at ease. When they spotted Luca and Katrin again, Abby broke away from Aaron and headed toward them, glad to have someone else to talk to.
She’d forgotten that they were both wolves.
“What’s wrong?” Luca demanded.
He looked so fit and strong that it was hard to believe he’d been near death a couple of days ago. If anything, he looked better than he had when he’d confronted Aaron up near the
stream, demanding to know who Abby was, and why she was here on the island.
“Nothing,” Aaron told him.
Luca turned to Abby, as did Katrin.
The tension on Aaron’s face prompted Abby to shake her head and shrug. She struggled to keep her expression mild, to play along with Aaron’s mood. He clearly wanted to handle the situation himself, and she supposed that was his right, given that this was his brother and his childhood friend, and they were still more or less strangers to her.
“They left,” she blurted. “It’s all right.”
Luca’s brow furrowed into a scowl. “Who left?”
The brothers glowered at each other for a minute, Luca’s near-fatal injuries and Aaron’s battling Micah to avenge him clearly forgotten. They’d fallen into confrontation so easily that Abby reminded herself that it probably happened all the time: two young men battling for dominance as if they couldn’t help but fight over something.
She’d seen her own brothers do the same thing, and there’d been a bloody nose a time or two, a split lip, a lot of bruises.
Men, she thought.
Maybe she ought to ask Katrin to live at the cabin with her.
Finally, Aaron heaved out a breath and told his brother, “Someone came from the other island, the one with the hotel. Looking for Abby. He had old Mac with him. He insisted that Abby come back with him, but she sent him away.”
Luca’s gaze moved back to Abby, so intense that it made her shudder. “I did,” she told him. “He’s gone.”
“How long ago?” Luca said.
“Hours.”
Had it been hours? Less than an hour? She had no idea.
She supposed it was progress of a sort that neither man asked her or Katrin to leave. Which wasn’t to say that she wanted to stand there watching them face off like this. It was like watching a momentary cease-fire between two people holding very big guns.
It’s never any different, is it? she wondered. No matter where you go, some things are always the same. Nobody really lives in peace and harmony.
In her mind’s eye, she could see herself sitting alongside a campfire with her mother, who was braiding little Abby’s hair as she sang something softly. A Beatles song, Abby thought. Her mother had always loved the Beatles.
“You need to tell Father,” Luca said. “Go to him first, and let him inform the elders.”
“Wait,” Abby interrupted. “Why does anybody need to tell anybody anything? Lane left. And the old man.”
“Did you see them leave?”
“I—I saw them walk away.”
“But you didn’t see them leave the island.”
“I did,” Aaron said. “I watched until they were well out to sea.”
It was a trick of the light, Abby decided: the shimmering sunlight cutting down through the trees, causing the air in between Aaron and Luca to waver like a mirage in the middle of the desert. Something was happening there, and she had no idea what it might be if it wasn’t the sunlight.
She wasn’t sure she wanted to find out.
“Can we go?” she said to Katrin, trying to hold her voice steady. “We should let them… do whatever they’re going to do.”
Katrin considered the request for a moment, then stepped away from Luca and took Abby by the arm. Abby thought Aaron might try to keep her here, but he didn’t; he didn’t reach for her, and before she could put together any real regret, Katrin had tugged her down the path toward the village.
Abby looked back over her shoulder and felt only mildly surprised that Aaron seemed to have forgotten she’d ever been there beside him. His focus was entirely on his brother.
“They’ll do what needs to be done,” Katrin assured her. “It really has very little to do with you.”
“But… it sort of has everything to do with me.”
Katrin shook her head. “This happens, from time to time. People come here, either intentionally or by mistake. The pack has ways of dealing with it.” She cocked her head and took a long look at Abby’s face. “Please be sensible about this. You and Aaron may be joined, but you aren’t yet a member of the pack. So this doesn’t concern you. You won’t be asked for your opinion.”
“I never am,” Abby sighed.
“Your place in the human world doesn’t matter here. It doesn’t matter what experiences you had there.”
“I sure feel like it does.”
Katrin stopped walking and looked off into the distance, then shifted her attention back to Abby. “I spent time on the mainland. We all have, except for a few of us. I think I understand the dynamics there. Your history. It’s different here. It may not seem different, but it is. Once you’ve been accepted into the pack, your wisdom will have weight. Not with the elders, perhaps, but Aaron will listen to you. He will ask for your advice. I’ve known him since we were children. He’s always valued my opinion, and he will value yours. The children will come to you for help and care. You may not have anything to offer a young one going through the transition, but in other things—”
“Transition?”
Nodding, Katrin started them walking again. “At the time our bodies begin to come to maturity, the wolf within starts to speak. Until then, it’s a quiet voice inside us. The sense that we aren’t alone. When we reach maturity, the wolf is able to break through the walls and emerge.”
She shivered a little, and Abby supposed she was remembering that happening to her.
“It can be frightening,” Katrin went on. “Even though we know it’s going to happen, it’s a very overwhelming sensation. So the adults create a quiet atmosphere for us. Keep us calm. There’s much laying on of hands.”
“Like… childbirth?”
“Somewhat.”
This time Abby stopped walking. Holding her head in her hands, she said, “You’re going to have to teach me a lot of things.”
“We all will.”
Thoughts, questions, ideas, pictures… The inside of Abby’s head felt like a cyclone. In all of her time here, she hadn’t really stopped to consider what life on the island would be like in the years to come. How very different it would be from what she was used to.
“What about when you’re sick?” she asked in a small voice. “Like… cancer? Kidney failure? There’s no doctor, is there? What do you do?”
“You suspect that your kidneys will fail?”
“I—no. I guess not. But Aaron said that that woman who took care of Luca was a healer. She stitches up wounds and puts poultices on them. What if it’s something worse than that? What about a heart attack?”
Her voice had gotten a little shrill. She felt bad about that for a moment, then told herself that the questions needed to be asked. That she needed to have answers, so she could make an informed decision. No, she’d never be able to leave Aaron, but she still needed to know what her future would be like.
“We believe in the ebb and flow of life,” Katrin said softly. “We do what we can, but if the illness or injury is too severe, we accept the decision of the great order of things. We believe that we return to the world of the wolf, from which we came.” When Abby didn’t reply, she reached out and brushed Abby’s cheek with the back of her hand. “Don’t worry. Your kidneys aren’t likely to fail.”
“How can you tell?” Abby asked, more sharply than she’d intended.
Katrin grinned at her. “I’d be able to smell it on you.”
By the time they reached the village, Abby was limping again. Her left shoe had created a painful blister on her little toe, and her heels were raw. She forced herself to take a few more steps to the rail fence that surrounded what looked like a big vegetable plot and leaned heavily against one of the fence posts.
“We’ll get you some shoes,” Katrin promised her. “I think there are some in the storehouse. If not, we’ll send for some.”
“Send where?” Abby asked.
“We have contacts. Durable shoes are difficult to make with what we have here, so we barter for them. Some other things, as well
. Cooking pots. A couple of the older wolves have a fondness for books. Granny Sara likes new fabric now and then.” Katrin chuckled. “And I’ll admit I look forward to our shipments of chocolate.”
Abby matched the other woman’s smile, then turned to look at the vegetable patch more closely. She was no expert on farming, but she could see a number of tomato plants, cucumbers, beans, and lettuce. The leafy tops of other plants suggested there were things underground: carrots, potatoes, radishes.
“I didn’t think wolves ate vegetables,” she said with a frown.
“The wolf is only a part of us,” Katrin said with a shrug. “There’s meat available, and eggs, and cheese. And we fish. Don’t worry—no one will bring you a gutted deer and expect you to eat it raw.”
Abby grimaced. “Thank God for that.”
Down near the end of the path, she saw someone she recognized: Granny Sara, walking slowly along with Micah. They both seemed to need support, and Abby felt a wave of regret for what had happened over the past few days. Granny Sara had been loving and generous enough to raise her grandson after his parents had drowned, and he’d paid her back by trying to murder Aaron’s brother.
“He’s still here,” she said with a frown, mostly for Katrin’s benefit, since Micah’s attack on Luca had happened because of Kat.
“Nothing’s been decided yet.”
“And they’re letting him walk around loose in the meantime?”
“He’s being watched. Don’t be fooled—there are eyes on him all the time.”
“Daniel, you mean?” Abby shuddered at the thought of the huge, burly “watcher,” who seemed to take matters into his own hands whenever he felt he ought to—like transforming into a snarling wolf right in front of her.
“Daniel among them, yes.”
“They should have had eyes on him before he attacked Luca.”
Katrin winced at that. “We have an apple tree,” she said, firmly changing the subject. “Pears, plums, peaches. They don’t bear fruit reliably, but when they do, we all eat our fill. You’ll be surprised how much we have here. You won’t find that you miss anything. Not anything worth having, at least.”