by Kyle, Celia
She followed the arm, gaze rising higher until she met Harding’s stare. “You don’t need to touch him.”
Tess yanked free of her maybe-ex-mate’s grasp and leaned back. “I won’t tell her. I promise.”
“I’m sorry, Tess. Did I say that? I didn’t know you didn’t want him to stop.”
“It’s okay.” She nodded. His eyes were drooping lower, his head rolling back and forth as he fought the drugs.
“I wouldn’t have done it if I knew you loved him. I swear.” His gaze floated to hers once again, but she didn’t see what she’d come to expect. She didn’t see the haze of the drugs blurring his vision or the dilated pupils signifying their hold. No, they were clear as day. Or rather, night. Because the black hue of Ben’s animal peeked out from behind his eyes, the beast making itself known for the barest of moments. “I’m sorry, Tess. Will you watch out for her? Watch out for my Millie? She’s my sister, my twin, only one I got. Don’t want her to be alone. I looked for her for a long time.”
“I will.”
Tension built in the elephant’s body, muscles flexing and bulging beneath his skin. “I’m sorry.”
Those were his last words.
The kitchen exploded in a shower of wood and cloth, Ben’s change rolling over him in a grey-tinged, undulating wave. Arms and legs lengthened and thickened between one heartbeat and the next. The rapid pop of the Council guard’s guns collided with the screams from the women and roars of rage from the men. Arms wrapped around her waist and yanked her from her seat moments before it was shattered beneath a tangle of limbs, both human and animal. She wasn’t sure who held her, but then again she wasn’t sure she cared, either.
A trumpeting scream tore from Ben. Tess flinched, knowing that it was one of pain rather than fury. Wetness coated her cheeks, trailing over her flesh, and she wiped the moisture away. Tears. Yes, tears.
Tears for her friend. For his past. For Millie’s future. For everything his confused hatred and anger had caused.
But she’d made her own choices, hadn’t she?
One last roar and tremble of the mound of men, and then the mass stilled. Fur-covered males slid away, the lions easing back along with a tiger-striped shifter and the two guards who’d been sent by the Council. And then she saw him.
Ben.
Battered.
Bloodied.
Broken.
Dead.
The arms around her waist loosened, releasing her, and she stumbled. Catching herself on the nearby couch, she turned to look at her savior. Of course it was Harding. Who else would it be?
The man’s skin was coated in white fur, mouth now that of his beast, but beneath it all he was still Harding.
Her mate.
Wait, she’d fucked that up beyond all belief.
“I’m sorry.” She whispered the words and he clenched his jaw, confirming that he’d heard her.
“A lot of that’s going around lately.” He took a step toward the kitchen, but then turned back to her. “I need to go help clean up your mess.”
Her mess. Well, it wasn’t a lie. “Okay.”
Maya picked her way through the scattered furniture and carefully came to her side. “Are you okay?”
“No.” Tears burned her eyes, scorching her with their salty-heat. “I’m very not okay.”
Delicate arms enveloped her. Soft hands stroked her head, and suddenly she found her face pressed against the Prima’s neck. “Then we’ll take you somewhere else. Somewhere where okay isn’t too far off.”
45
“Sometimes, when I’m depressed, I just want someone to hug me and tell me they have ice cream. You thought I was gonna say I wanted to hear ‘I love you’, right? Screw that. Everyone loves me, but not everyone has ice cream.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who believes ice cream fixes everything.
It’d taken five days and four dozen calls along with quite a bit of bribery, but Harding had finally found her.
Now he needed to figure out what to do with her.
Love her or spank her. Or both.
First he had to talk to her.
Steeling himself for the coming confrontation, Harding climbed from his rented SUV and approached the farmhouse. From the outside, it looked like any other home in the back woods of West Virginia. The porch was a little crooked, a railing or two looked like it was falling off, and he didn’t trust the shutters bracketing the front window.
But it wasn’t the outside that concerned him. It was what lurked within, and the past that surrounded the place.
Fuck. Colwich, West Virginia. He thought he’d seen the last of this town.
Apparently not.
Harding climbed the steps, conscious of the fact that they could crumble at any moment, and approached the front door. A twist of the knob had it coming off in his hand, and he growled. His mate had been staying in a place like this.
Alone.
Unprotected.
Vulnerable.
All because he was an ass who couldn’t see past his own wounded pride.
A jiggle of the door opened it, and he gingerly stepped into the home. A glance around revealed that it was coated with dust, small footprints on the carpet the only indication that someone lurked. But did she still?
Harding breathed deep and sorted through the scents, his beast lending a hand. The cat was as anxious to find Tess as the human half of himself. It’d been pushing and prodding him to hunt down his mate the moment she’d left his home, but he’d been too wrapped up in himself to listen. So he didn’t. And that’d gotten him five days of hunting. It probably would have been less if he’d been allowed to roar at the Prima, but Alex had flatly told him that wasn’t happening.
Damn it.
Harding’s lion growled and snapped at him, reminding him to focus on the task at hand. He closed his eyes and drew in another lungful of air. One by one, he sorted through the scents, identifying and discarding those that were stale yet still lingered. He didn’t care about the other shifters that’d come before. He wanted one person and one alone: Tess.
Rage. Fear. Blood. Tears. They seemed to permeate every surface, and he wasn’t surprised to find them in the farmhouse. It had, after all, been home to Alistair McCain once upon a time.
And Tess, as well.
Then it hit him like a brick to the face. The sweet, luxurious scent of honey reached for him. Its claws sank into his skin and tugged on his flesh, yanking him forward. She’d come here. True, he’d been told she’d sought solace in this run down place, but he hadn’t quite believed the reports.
But he should have.
Cautiously, he followed where the flavors led, matching the footsteps that littered the carpet. He twisted and turned down the hallways, the maze drawing him this way and that, deeper into the home. He’d forgotten that this wasn’t simply a farmhouse, but one of Freedom’s compounds. Innocuous on the outside, twisted on the inside.
The carpet eventually ended. His steps echoed off the wooden floors and rough-hewn walls. The creaking and groaning of the house was the only other intrusion on his travels, the home otherwise silent as if he were alone.
But the scent told him different. It lured him deeper into the farmhouse. It called to him and drove him onward when he would have given up and sought Tess elsewhere.
Before long he was moving down a straight, long hallway, various doors leading off to other rooms, but still the flavors beckoned him. So, he kept going. And going. And… He stopped in the doorway to the last room, the space barren for all but one lonely figure: Tess.
He knew she was aware of his presence—he hadn’t kept his approach quiet—but she didn’t look at him. So he took a moment to look at her.
And she was so damned beaten. Her hair was limp and dull, her shoulders slumped and her legs drawn up until her knees pressed against her chest. She was a small ball of woman, as if fighting to become as little as possible. A veritable “nothing to see here.”
One h
and rested on her shin while the other traced circles over a dark, near black stain on the wood.
Now he took a second look at the space, noting the aged wallpaper, the small darkened spots along one wall and the few holes in another. He glanced at a nearby window and could immediately replay what had happened in this room. The reports that circulated through the shifter community had revealed nearly every detail.
Alistair had kidnapped one of the Ridgeville guards, tied him up and left him in the room until he was ready to torture him. Except the Freedom leader hadn’t counted on the guard’s mate, hadn’t believed that a small squirrel shifter could crawl through a window and free her man. Even more, he hadn’t even imagined that the small woman wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet through his head before escaping.
Tess was tracing circles on the last physical representation of her father: the place where he’d died.
She still hadn’t acknowledged Harding, but she hadn’t raged at him either.
Moving slowly, he closed the distance between them and crouched before her. “Tess?”
She didn’t look to him, her finger still gliding over the wood, but she did finally speak. “Do you know how many lives he destroyed? I mean, not just those he hurt.” She shuddered.
Harding reached for her, intent on offering comfort. Only, at the last second, he pulled back. He doubted she’d want to be touched by someone who could turn on her at the drop of a dime.
“I’m talking about the ones left behind.” She sniffled, and a sob tore from her throat. “And he passed it on to me, didn’t he? He passed on that ability to hurt everyone without a thought.”
God, he didn’t think there was any scent worse than that of his mate’s pain. It clawed at his skin, the heavy smell easily banishing the sweetness of honey. His lion roared and raged in disapproval, fighting with him, demanding that he comfort their mate.
Tess raised her gaze to him and his heart cracked, bits falling to the wayside when he absorbed her expression. Desolation. Pure, bleak sadness met him. “I thought I’d be different. For a second, I really did. But I was wrong.” She sobbed. “So I’ll stay here, out of the way. I can’t hurt anyone if there’s no one around to hurt.”
“Aw, damn Tess.” He didn’t wait for permission, didn’t think about her reaction when he sat and pulled her into his lap. “Don’t say that, sweet.”
“H-Harding—”
“Shh…” He cupped her head and urged her to rest it on his chest. “No. No matter what you’re about to say, or what you think, you’re wrong.” She shook her head, but he didn’t stop. He had to get it all out, had to make her see that none of the mess they’d found themselves in was her doing. “How many friends did you have growing up, Tess? You had twenty-six years. How many did you end up with?”
Tess sobbed again, the gut-wrenching sound nearly tearing out his heart. But he needed her to face her past. Sometimes that was hard—sometimes it hurt so bad a person thought they’d die—but it needed to be done.
He squeezed her gently. “How many?”
“One.”
“One.” He rubbed her arm, noting the goose bumps, and he wondered if it was from cold or fear. “And it was Ben, wasn’t it? Your one friend after a lifetime of abuse and loneliness.” She nodded, and he realized his shirt had grown damp. “So, you didn’t want to believe he’d ever hurt someone, and you hoped that if you kept quiet, it’d go away.”
Shakes overtook his mate, her body trembling in his embrace. “You almost died. I almost let you die, and he hurt you and I had to fight to keep you alive and… My mate.”
“But I’m fine.” He brushed her temple in a lingering kiss. “I’m fine.”
Tess shook her head, nose shifting back and forth over his chest. “I should have—”
“Done exactly what you did.”
“How can you say that?”
“How can I expect you to trust a near stranger?” he shot back. “He’d been your friend—your only friend—for months, Tess. We knew each other for just over a week. I dragged you across state lines and expected you to trust me without question.” He gave her another kiss. “I expected too much after too little time. All of us did, but me especially.” He sighed when she slumped into him. “The women got on us the moment we’d finished cleaning up. They jumped down our throats like we’d swallowed the crown jewels and a platinum credit card with no limit.”
“It doesn’t change anything.”
“You’re right,” he nodded. “But it does give us a new starting point. It reset my expectations and made me realize that I’m an ass. You’re a person, Tess. My mate, yes, but also so, so much more. It’s the ‘more’ we need to work on now.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” She shook her head. She’d been doing that a lot during their conversation, but he refused to give up. “I nearly got you killed, and I’m mostly-human. What’s going to happen to me if we do work past our problems? What if you do claim me? What will I become?”
“My mate.”
“I can’t.”
“You can. Maybe not today, but you can.” He didn’t give her a moment to interrupt him. “Alex is supervising the repairs on the house, and it’s going on the market as soon as it’s finished. We’ll go anywhere, start fresh if you want, but I won’t be separated from you. I can’t demand your trust or your agreement to mate, but I’m asking you: don’t push me away.”
“I decided to be a hermit.”
“Then we can be hermits together. With or without a bite, I don’t want to lose you. Don’t make me.” Tears burned his eyes and he didn’t bother fighting them. There was too much at stake to spend time worrying about something so inconsequential.
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
“Then we can ‘not know’ together.” He gathered every hint of emotion that lived within him. He drew on his desperation and desire, the raw hopelessness that’d plagued him since she left and the pure joy at simply finding her again. “Please.”
Tess tipped her head back, and he relished the ability to look upon his mate once again. The days had weighed on him, dragging his spirit down until hope was barely a glimmer. Moisture filled her eyes and a single tear escaped, trailing over her wet cheek.
“Okay.” She took a deep breath, breasts brushing his arm. “But I want to go back to Ridgeville.”
46
“You have nothing to fear, but fear itself… And Ninja Zombie Hookers. I know no one thinks they’re real, but just wait until the zombie apocalypse comes and we’ll see who’s laughing then.” — Maya O’Connell, Prima of the Ridgeville Pride and woman who is totally prepping for zombies.
Tess’s stomach churned, and it felt as if a rolling ball of acid tumbled around inside her. It bounced off her ribs. She clutched her abdomen, begging for the nerves to settle.
Because she’d be seeing everyone. Today. Minutes from now in a welcome-home-slash-we-don’t-hate-you-slash-house-warming party.
Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and a wall of warmth blanketed her back. “Tess?” Harding rested his chin on the top of her head. “You okay?”
Yes.
No.
Maybe.
No, it was definitely no.
Instead of releasing the words, she leaned back into him, trusting him to keep her upright. “Of course.” She bit her tongue on “not.”
He snuggled her closer, his scent sliding over her skin in an invisible caress, and she cursed her fears and her inability to trust. Only, it wasn’t about trusting Harding. Her problem was trusting herself. But she’d gotten a little better at that during the past week. They’d been rebuilding their relationship while Elise and Maddy poked around in Tess’s mind.
Combined, it left her a smidge horny with a dash of headache.
Fun times.
But it was worth it. Though pain laced through her with every uncovered memory and exploration of her skills, the man standing behind her was worth it all.
Because yes, Tess was a power
ful telepath with a hint of Sensitive abilities, but she also held more than a pinch of a beast within her. Together, they predicted that it was a polar bear like Alistair. From the moment she’d returned to Ridgeville and entered Maddy’s care, the man who’d Changed her mother had been relabeled as Alistair. No longer her father or “Dad.” Just plain and simple Alistair McCain, ex-leader of Freedom, current residence: Hell.
Harding nuzzled her, bringing her back to the present. “Liar.”
Tess bit back another lie. “Okay, I’m scared. What if—”
“Shh… They already like you, Tess.”
“But I—” Fucked up beyond all comprehension.
She felt Harding shrug. “I love you and we’re working through the rest. If they can’t forgive you, then they can’t, and we’ll move on.”
She stiffened. No, she hadn’t heard that right. He hadn’t said… Had he? Tess nudged at his arm, struggling to force him to release her so she could focus on those pale blue eyes that haunted her fantasies. “Harding,” she growled.
“Shh… Our visitors are here. Time to get the party going.” He kissed the side of her neck, a soft stroke of his lips on her vulnerable flesh, and then he was gone. He slipped past her and strode to the front door of their spacious new cabin, throwing it wide in welcome.
Children and adults tumbled from the various SUVs that now littered their gravel driveway. The women of the pride alternated between yelling at the men and their cubs, while the men ignored the chaos and strode toward her mate.
She kept her gaze trained on Harding, on the easy grace of his walk and the barely constrained power that his body held.
He loved her?
No…
And yet… And yet he’d followed her, found her, given her the choice of where to start their life, and then purchased a cabin that she’d fallen in love with at first sight.
To make her happy.
Her.
Tess McCai—
No, she’d hunted up her birth mother’s name. She was Tess Boyd. Someday she’d be Tess Grange. If she ever mustered the courage and trusted in her true self. At the thought, Maddy’s words came back to haunt her.