* * * *
While he was in his bed, Dante’s mind wandered to the shed. The young woman within was a stubborn one to be sure. When he’d entered earlier she’d been asleep and seemingly having a pleasant dream. He’d thought he’d heard his name whispered from her sweet lips as she’d slept, and he hadn’t been able to help himself. He’d leaned in close, smelled the divine fragrance of her heady scent and had slowly kissed her. Once she kissed him back, he was left breathless, even if it had been done in her sleep. A kiss had never pulled on him as hers did. It was spellbinding, and his lips had tingled from it.
He was almost positive a deeper part of Anya wanted him, but he also knew the stubborn young lady would never admit it to either herself or him. Beth had told him they had talked for the better part of the afternoon, and that Anya seemed like a very nice girl. Dante wasn’t sure how to have small talk with Anya, nor how to get her to admit to the feelings she seemed to have. She still refused to talk to him as it was. He doubted she would want to make chitchat with him either.
Dante was unsure of why he had such an attraction for this interloper. It was there, strong and wild, but he could not fathom why. If Memphis hadn’t shot her, he would have let her go. Now a part of him was nearly grateful for the pup’s bad judgement in shooting Anya. He tossed onto his side and attempted to figure out just what was happening to him. Even his last mate had not drawn these feeling from him, and that left him greatly bewildered.
The surreal dream awoke him in the wee hours of the morning. Dante was covered in a fine sheet of sweat, shaking all over as he remembered the fleeting images of his nightmare. Anya was drowning, not as a wolf but as a human. He’d tried to save her, but couldn’t no matter how hard he fought to bring her to the surface. He shook the feeling of dread away as he tossed the covers off and then got up. It was because of how his first mate had died, he assumed. He picked up her long braid off the dresser and held it, caressing the long, black hair.
Mary had been on the boat headed toward the mainland to visit her family when the storm had struck. Five of his pack had perished in the gale. All had drowned, lost to the cruelty of the bay when the boat had capsized. After his mate had died, Dante was left with a void, one he’d not been able to fill. Now Anya was there, and it seemed as if she were fated to be his. However, the nightmare had brought back the terror of losing a mate, and that fear filled him again. What if he lost Anya? What if he did have to return her for his sister? And what if he was reading the signs from Anya wrong? What if she really didn’t want him?
Self-doubt crept into him. It was not something he liked to feel. As alpha, he needed to be sound, strong and without doubts. He set out, having decided he needed to wash away those thoughts and clear his head. Dante made his way into the woods before he stripped down and then shifted forms. It felt great to run, and as he let his beast free, his head arched back and he let a mournful howl escape into the early morning air.
Dante loped off down the old cattle trail to the river and didn’t slow down as the swimming hole came into sight. Memories of his younger years flowed through his mind. When it was all a carefree existence and all he had to do was hunt, play and make love to the pretty human females on the mainland. As his body crashed into the crystal clear water, he let out a yelp of surprise. The water was ice cold and the shock of it took him off guard. It’d been a long time since he’d come there for a swim.
It didn’t take long before his mind drifted back to Anya, though he would need to go there again this morning and question her as to his sister’s whereabouts. He knew she was lying, knew her pack had his sister. For the life of him, Dante could not reason out why she just wouldn’t tell him. After all, he’d promised her freedom if she did. That meant there had to be something or someone Anya tried to keep secret. The next time he talked with her, he would have to ensure he was not soft. He couldn’t afford to let her see that side of him.
He took his time walking back to where his clothes were. Dante continued his thoughts on how to get the truth from Anya. There had to be a way to do it, one that didn’t have her hating him completely. The long call of the roosters echoed from the village. He would have to bring Anya her breakfast. Again a smile slid over his face. He couldn’t help the excitement building in him to be able to spend time with her.
* * * *
Anya made good headway digging into the floorboards. She figured within the next few nights she would have a hole big enough for her to crawl out. That is if the feeling and mobility were back in her lower half by then, she thought. After several hours of scrapping away, she shifted back to human and used her hands to push the torn up slivers of wood into the tiny hole that she’d managed to break all the way through. The rich smell of the earth floor a few feet below drifted up to her nose, and she felt elated at the prospect of escape.
Crawling out from under the bed, she struggled to get back on it. The digging had nearly wiped her out. Her attempt to get back onto the mattress was more than she could manage, and she decided to get dressed as she leaned against the side of it. If they asked her in the morning why she was on the floor she would lie and say she fell out of bed. Tired, aching and feeling a little hopeful with her progress tonight, she pulled the quilt down and then stretched out on the floor and fell asleep.
The soft rattle of the chain awoke her. Anya had only been asleep for a few hours as she still felt extremely tired. She looked up at the door as it opened and Dante stepped inside carrying a basket with a towel over it. His eyes looked as they always did, burning and glaring at her. But in the instant he saw her on the floor it changed. His look of concern was as plain as day.
“Anya, why in the hell are you on the floor,” he exclaimed and rushed to put the basket down on the table. He turned and reached down, sweeping her up into his arms, and fear raced over her that he might see the small hole under the bed.
After picking her up, he carefully laid her down on the straw-filled mattress, then recovered the blanket and covered her.
“Did you hurt yourself?” he asked. There was a subtle hint of worry in his tone, and although she wanted nothing more than to smile at that, she glared at him instead. She would hold her ground, refuse to speak or give him any idea of how he was affecting her.
Dante sat beside her and made to touch her hair. She slapped his hand away and gave him a more caustic look.
“I just want to make sure you didn’t hit your head,” he said. His hands moved her hair from her face as he examined her. The soft caress of his fingers through her hair did strange things to her, and she felt the heat of his body as he sat close to her on the bed.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” he asked. Anya shook her head. “I brought you some fresh bread with blueberry preserves.” He reached for the basket.
As he passed her fresh bread slathered in dark blue preserves her tummy rumbled. She expended a great deal of her energy at night, burning up the food she ate, making the healing process go much slower.
“There’s a pot of tea on the step. I’ll go get it,” he told her.
As she devoured the delicious bread and jam, she watched him. A flutter raced over her as she eyed his large burly frame. Anya had to admit it—the man was drop-dead gorgeous. As he returned with the pot and two mugs, she tried to pay attention only to her food. It was a lot harder than she thought it would be as he poured them both a steaming cup.
He sat back down beside her and passed one of the cups to her. She took a cautious sip of the hot tea and looked up at Dante. Their gazes met and held for a moment. His eyes were soft and gentle-looking, and she again had to fight the urge to smile. Silently, he watched her as she ate her bread and drank her tea. As soon as she was done he took the basket and pot and then left her alone again. It was strange, she thought. Even though she’d not spoken a single word to that man since the first night, she now missed his company after he left.
It wasn’t long after Dante left that again she heard the chain being undone from the door.
A smiling, cheery-faced Beth opened it and used a large rock to leave it wide open. The bright sun’s rays streamed in as did fresh air, and it felt wonderful. The older woman walked over and moved the table closer to the bed.
“Do you know how to knit?” she asked.
“Umm, no,” Anya told her.
“Well, would you like to learn? I have a ton of socks to knit and darn, and I really could use an extra set of hands,” she explained still smiling.
“Okay, I guess so,” she stated, looking at Beth oddly.
The sound of feet on the steps drew both their attentions, and a rather enormous man, who bore a great resemblance to Dante, stepped in. He carried a wooden rocking chair.
“Okay, honey, where did you want this?” he asked in a near gravely tone. Anya assumed he was related to her captor.
“Right there beside the bed, sweetheart. Oh don’t forget to get Tessa to bring my knitting and our snacks over please.” Beth spoke to him with such a tone it was easy to tell who ruled whom.
“Yes, dear,” the man said. He gave Anya a quick once over as he set the chair in the exact spot Beth had indicated.
“Oh, Anya, this is my mate, Chris,” Beth told her.
“Hi, Anya, nice to meet you,” he said with a near smile.
“Hi,” Anya said almost sheepishly.
As the man left he went to pick up the rock and close the door. Beth cleared her throat. He looked over at her and she simply shook her head.
“I have to close it,” he told her.
“The fresh air and sunshine will help Anya heal, dear. Leave it open.”
“But Dante said—”
“I said leave it open.” The woman gave her mate a hard look, and he put the rock back to hold the door.
“I’ll see you at supper time,” she said with a grin as he left.
Anya held her smile back for only a moment as Beth settled into the rocking chair beside the bed. The wooden chair was handcrafted like everything else there, and it looked to have been made not long ago.
“It’s a beautiful chair,” Anya told her as she eyed the intricate designs craved into it. The flowers, butterflies and small birds were done wonderfully and by an expert hand.
“Yes, it’s one of my favorite chairs. Dante made it for me when he found out he was going to be an uncle.”
“Dante made that,” Anya stated almost disbelievingly.
“Yes, he makes some of the nicest cravings around. You must have seen some of his work at the general store?”
Thoughts of the wonderful small carved wooden animals, boxes and other items that were for sale at the general store filled Anya’s mind. She had purchased a set of hand-carved wolves from there, the initials D. T. carved in the bottom. Never would she have guessed that Dante had made them. They were amongst her most prized possessions.
“I didn’t know he was good with his hands,” Anya murmured.
“Dante can come across as a real ass, but he isn’t. He’s a sweet man. He told me he found you on the floor this morning. What happened?” Beth asked as she rocked slowly in the chair.
“I fell out of bed.” The look Beth gave her told her the other woman didn’t believe what she’d said.
Chapter Five
Dante stood over the bed again. The small morsel glared at him with a defiant, hateful look on her face. Inside he smiled at her tenacity, but outwardly he glared down at her. Over the last four nights, he’d come there to question her. She never gave him any answers. Although tonight would be different. Tonight he would get the information he needed, and she wouldn’t even have to utter a single word.
After sitting beside her, he played with the four long pieces of twine he held in his hand as he looked at her. “This is your last chance, Anya, tell me what I want to know,” he demanded sternly. Still she said nothing. She hadn’t spoken a word since her first night there, and he doubted she would now. He moved his hand toward her and attempted to run his fingers along her face, and yet again she slapped his hand away, glaring at him more intently.
With a smile, he looked at her. So pretty, he thought, and soon she could very well be his. She just didn’t know it yet.
“I warned you,” he said. Dante leaned over Anya, then grabbed her arm on the far side and held it down as he moved to straddle her waist. Her free small, delicate hand formed a fist, and she connected with his chin. He was surprised it actually hurt. He grappled the wrist of the hand that had just struck him and restrained her.
“Now hold still,” he demanded as he forced her arms down under his knees at her sides and pinned them there with his full weight. He paused for a moment, rubbing his now tender chin. The girl had spunk, and he liked it. Unfortunately, his body reacted to him sitting on top of her, and the swelling in the front of his jeans drew her attention. Her eyes went wide as her gaze snapped up to look him in the face.
Anya’s scent shifted. He could tell by the smell she was very afraid now, and he leaned over and gripped her hair, forcing her head still so he could sniff her neck. He took a deep inhale of her scent, and it was intoxicating. She smelled so good, and the anger in her eyes added to the desire he had for her. With his face this close to hers, he could see the subtle shifting in them. The excitement lay there just under her fear, and it mingled with her scent as well. Surely she knew she was going into heat? The smell was an aphrodisiac all by itself. It pulled at him hard, his beast nature taking notice and willing him to have her.
He swallowed hard and pulled his face from hers quickly, not wanting to be lost to the animal inside him. Too many years had passed since he’d joined with a woman, and this was way too tempting. The look in her eyes told him she knew he could smell her heat. It seemed to fuel the girl’s anger, and her blue eyes flashed in the light. The fear was nearly gone from them as both anger and excitement took over.
“Get off me,” she screamed as she twisted under him. The sound of her voice surprised him.
“I will when I’m done with you.” He snarled and let go of her hair.
The look in her eyes told him what she thought he was going to do, and he nearly laughed out loud. If she only knew how he struggled not to do just that.
“Be good and don’t move,” he told her, still trying to portray the big bad wolf.
With quick, deft movements, he took a hold of some hair at the back of her head and tied it with a piece of twine. He quickly braided the length and then tied it at the end before moving to the opposite side and doing the same until she had two long, thin braids. He pushed the rest of her thick, silky mane out of the way, then pulled the thin braids taunt.
“Now you really don’t want to move your head.” He pulled his knife from its sheath. Her eyes went wide at the sight of the large blade, and he snickered.
“Don’t worry. I have no intentions of marring that pretty face.” With a careful slice, he cut both long braids free.
Dante placed the knife back into its sheath before he held her arms down as he got off her. He didn’t want her to hit him again. As he stood there he sniffed the braid. Her musky, heady heat was heavy on them, and his smile widened.
“What are you going to do with my hair?” she asked in a near growl.
“Well, this one is for your brother,” he told her, holding up one of the braided locks. “And this one is for your mate.”
“I don’t have a mate.” She snarled venomously.
“Well, if your brother doesn’t tell me where my sister is, then you’ll have one,” he said as he pushed one of the strands into his pocket and then tied the other to his wrist.
Anya’s eyes looked shocked. Her face paled at the gesture of betrothal he’d taken the liberty to declare by adorning his wrist with a lock of her hair.
“My brother will kill you,” she said, her voice cracking a little this time.
“You broke werewolf laws, sweetheart. I’ll give your brother until the next moon or I’m claiming what is my right to claim.” He turned and walked out the door.
Da
nte locked it behind him. He heard her sobs, and his heart dropped. This was not what he wanted, but he needed to find out the fate that had befallen his little sister, and he knew they had her. All he wanted was her back safe and sound. Now he really didn’t want to let Anya go either. The fiery, stubborn girl ignited something in him, something that caused him to crave her touch, and it scared him.
He would never be able to have her, not completely. He’d gone about this the wrong way. If he’d simply asked her where his sister was, she wouldn’t have told him, but somehow he thought there had to have been a better way to get the information. A way that wouldn’t have her hating him and then maybe she’d possibly even see him as a mate.
After stepping into his own cabin, he sat at the lonely kitchen table. Slowly he traced the braided hair tied to his wrist. It was silly. He didn’t even know her, but somehow he felt connected with her. It wasn’t something he could even put into words. Love, lust, need, instinct, it all fit, but it wasn’t quite it either. It was all of those things but so much more.
Of in the distance he heard a howl, one of the sentries was reporting, and the call told him all was quiet. Since Anya had arrived, he’d upped the patrols, sending out three groups to patrol the island. No word had come from the mainland that her brother knew where she was. He’d heard they’d been searching for her, and given enough time, they may try looking there, and Dante didn’t want to get caught off guard.
After grabbing a bite to eat and washing up, he then headed for his bed. Staring at it made him think of Anya. He felt guilty. It was cold out tonight and she only had a thin quilt. He grabbed two of his blankets and headed back to the shed. If nothing else, she could never say he didn’t try to make her comfortable, he thought as he unlocked the door. As he entered the blankets fell to the floor and he stared at the empty room. The dress she’d worn lay on the bed and there was no sign of her.
An Undying Love Page 4