“You aren’t sick,” he began.
She cut him off. “I’m better. Fine. We can go home now.”
He held up a hand to calm her and shook his head. With a tight check on his emotions, ruled by an aching heart that pained him more than his body did, he said, “You’re not okay, Skylar. You have to get from here to there.” He pointed down the hill. “And that trip is going to prove more difficult than anything you’ve ever attempted.”
Her green eyes widened. When she brushed strands of golden hair back from her white face, he would have given a year of his life to kiss her fear away.
Dried blood caked one of her cheeks, from where she’d scratched herself with something a whole lot worse than a fingernail. The wolf in him wanted to lick that wound, along with the rest of her, and make her forget they’d started this conversation. The man wanted to console her, ease her into the next phase of her life, and didn’t really know how to do that.
“You’re not sick,” he reiterated, starting over.
It’s time. Say it. Do it. Tell her.
“You’re like me.”
He watched her face crinkle in distaste and sensed her refusal to believe him.
“Do you understand, Skylar?”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure what you are. I know the term because we’ve spoken the words. And I’ve dreamed…”
The sentence went unfinished as her mind turned his information over, seeking a recognizable pattern in nonsensical data. Then she looked up and into his eyes.
“Why?” Her voice rattled up from deep in her chest. “Why are you doing this? Talking to me like this?”
“Why aren’t you running away?” he countered.
Her eyes never left his. That gaze seemed to touch his soul.
“You don’t have to stand here, Skylar, but you do have to accept what I’m telling you as the truth. You’ve seen what I am. Trust, me, this is not a dream.”
She didn’t faint, collapse or have a fit. Skylar Donovan presented to him the bold front he’d seen before, and he loved her even more for that strength now. He prayed she wouldn’t hate him after this night was over, if she made it through.
“I’m no werewolf, if that’s what you’re suggesting,” she stated adamantly.
“Go ahead, then. Step into the light.”
She looked past him, shuddered, and again met his eyes.
“I’ll take you,” he said. “I’ll hold your hand. Hell, Skylar, I’ll carry you if that’s what you want. But unless we wait until morning, which is a dangerous plan with that abomination hovering so close by, or we slide down the hill on our asses, avoiding the trail and keeping to the trees, we have no choice but to face this.”
“Face what?” she asked in such a way that he knew she wanted him to spell it out for her. She wanted to hear her new life sentence without him beating around the bush.
“If you step into the moonlight, you will change.” His heart pounded out the beat of his distress. “You aren’t human. Not anymore. And if I’ve caused this, you can use those silver bullets on me and I’ll welcome them. But only after I help you through this first shift and if you make it through this night.”
Her teeth were chattering. “You’re full of shit,” she snapped, sidestepping him, walking on unsteady legs toward the moonlight.
She dared to step into that light. Bathed in it, letting its silvery phosphorescence flow over her, Skylar turned to face him with a triumphant look on her face.
Seconds later, she let out a gasp of horror and surprise.
Chapter 23
The threat to Skylar’s sanity continued with the sensation of spiders crawling over her face. Spiders quickly became icicles, prodding painfully at her forehead and her cheeks—little jabs, sharp and insidious, here and there.
Standing frozen in the moonlight, the world around her became a tornado of revolving darkness, light and stars. An uncomfortable vibration rumbled deep inside her that began to spread outward and soon took over her arms and legs.
She cried out against the onslaught of pain accompanying that vibration, and fought back with her hands, tearing at her face, her stomach and her hips, fearing this was real and that she wasn’t going to wake up.
Her body was in a state of upheaval, getting ready to die one part at a time. That’s what this felt like. Dying.
Screams slipped through her lips as the discomfort became real agony that quickly began to escalate. Still, she wouldn’t give in, refused to give up her fight. She didn’t really want to find the werewolf.
And now…
Now she was becoming one, if Gavin had told the truth. Her tainted body was being restructured, rewired against her will. Something insidious was short-circuiting her genes to make her like the creature ruining her sleep night after night. Only here, in reality, there was so very little she could do about it.
Not true. Not happening.
In the moonlight she felt naked and terribly, horribly, exposed. Skylar remembered a fleeting explanation her father had given long ago to a child searching for meaning. “Moonlight is poison to people whose genetics are damaged,” he said.
How the hell did he know that, way back then?
Profound, deep-seated grief over that memory undermined her determination to stand upright. The last of her energy drained away with the promise of an upcoming shift.
If Gavin was right, she was turning into her father’s worst nightmare. Her worst nightmare. Any minute now, she’d be like the thing she imagined her dad had trapped in that cage…and as crazy as her mother. A wolf now resided inside her body, and the moon was that wolf’s release switch.
Ready. Set. Go…
Through the whirl of pain she opened her mouth to whisper to the moon, “Come and get me, you bitch!”
And in the end, what will this moon madness produce?
“A she-wolf,” the man with the velvet voice supplied from the sidelines, as though he’d heard the question.
Hearing that term from the familiar voice brought on the sweeping undertow that threatened to drag her under. Skylar fell to her knees fighting to stay conscious, only slightly aware of the man yanking her upward.
*
Removing her from the light and getting Skylar the hell out of there wasn’t going to work, Gavin discovered as he pulled her up from the ground and into his shuddering arms. The only question now was whether being close to her would worsen her pain, or ease her fright when she got a good look at him.
Skylar. He ran a careful hand over her face, traced her quivering lips as his claws extended. His bones screamed bloody murder. The ability to speak disintegrated when there were so many things to tell Skylar, who was well on her way to the kind of breakdown he remembered.
She shook violently because the thing inside her was trying hard to get out. Like Skylar herself, her wolf wouldn’t take no for an answer. Nevertheless, the danger of being in the open with a murderous rogue nearby left Skylar vulnerable.
He felt for her, hurt for her and wanted to take back everything they’d done together if that would fix this. He’d go his own way if allowed a do-over. He would leave her alone, and none of this would happen.
The sound of her back hitting the tree sickened him, but she flailed against his protective hold on her arms. Without a voice, soothing her wasn’t an option.
Careful not to scratch her with his claws, Gavin readjusted his hold as she thrashed and squirmed. Swearing silently without the pleasure of hearing those oaths, he applied more pressure to her shoulders, pinning her in place with as much force as necessary to restrain her ongoing gyrations.
Skylar, listen.
They were back to the first time he uttered those words, and he had to settle for thinking them and sending them to her silently with the hope she’d catch on.
Breathe. Stop fighting. Letting it in is the only way to survive this.
Timing was crucial, and time had run out. Above the noises Skylar made deep in her throat, Gavin sensed the approach
of the moment he dreaded. The beast he’d sought for so long was on its way back, and he wasn’t ready for a showdown. Skylar wasn’t in any kind of shape to fend for herself, and he’d have to let her go in order to face the nightmare.
The smell of the abomination was its calling card: damp fur, aged menace and the iron odor of blood, probably from whatever it ate for dinner. Gavin spun around and turned his back to Skylar, leaning into her, shielding her and willing her to be silent, though her soft cries were evidence of her discomfort. He growled his displeasure over the return of such a beast and studied its approach with a stern, unwavering gaze.
Silently, stealthily, as if floating above the ground, the stalker moved in without getting too close. It appeared as a blur of dark between the trees ringing the area where he and Skylar stood, acting as if it might be content to toy with the senses of the werewolf it had created.
Gavin didn’t buy the delay or the silence. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to be deterred from guarding Skylar.
Anger made his growl a sharp warning. His racing pulse provided him with a sizzling new adrenaline-sparked energy.
The delay was in his favor. While the beast lingered on the outskirts of the area, Gavin hoisted Skylar into his arms. Though she fought like a wildcat to be free and face her own demons, Gavin held her as if her life depended on it, since it probably did.
He walked into the light, felt the slap of moonlight sucker punch him and the agony of the accumulated physical strain of winking back and forth between man and Were without fully landing on either choice for long.
Hit over and over again in relentless waves by the pain of the reverse shift he wanted so badly and couldn’t manage—the one that would enable him to speak to Skylar again—Gavin ran, slid, leaped down the hillside, utilizing every bit of effort he could dig up and a whole lot of concentrated determination to turn his back on and gain some distance from the abomination behind him.
Time suspended in the effort to reach the cabin. Not certain how he made it to the front yard, or why Skylar’s struggles ceased as he hit the porch, Gavin skidded to a halt beneath the overhang.
Safe?
God, were they safe?
His heart stuttered with surprise when the front door opened on its own. He stumbled back in shock. A woman stood in the doorway, a woman he vaguely recognized from bits of data stored in the back of his mind.
Barring the way into the house, she spoke in a low-pitched, authoritative voice that contained the power of a command. “Go on, wolf. I’ll take it from here.”
Chapter 24
Who the hell was this?
The stranger in Skylar’s cabin made him freeze in place.
Go on, wolf?
As if he could leave Skylar, no matter how bad he felt or looked at the moment? This intruder was facing a werewolf as if that wasn’t scary at all.
The next reverse shift wasn’t going to happen, however much he wanted it to. Possibly a built-in defense mechanism had come into play to keep this woman from recognizing him in the future. Either that, or since he’d abused the whole shifting thing, there might be a chance he’d have to stay in this frigging furred-up shape forever, his human shape lost because it had surpassed the limits of what a human body could endure.
He stood on the porch, holding Skylar for what seemed like eons. He was furious, not sure why this auburn-haired woman didn’t run for cover when confronted by a monster. She appeared to be calm and in full control of her wits. Her heart didn’t race. She didn’t scream or wince. The beautifully constructed face showed no hint of fear or revulsion. When she’d spoken, she’d sounded unemotionally rational.
“I’ll take it from here.”
Gavin homed in on that, desperate to understand what was going on.
“Why don’t you bring Skylar inside and then do what you need to do,” the woman suggested, testing his patience. No smile on her lips. No joke. All business.
“We both understand that if she comes inside, Skylar will feel better. Isn’t that right?”
Gavin continued to stare without loosening his possessive hold on Skylar. Let his lovely lover go through this alone? Don’t think so. I caused this. It’s my fault.
“If I take the time to explain my presence to you and make introductions, it’s going to be worse for her. Do you want that?” the woman asked, looking directly at Skylar, limp in Gavin’s arms.
No, damn it. That’s the last thing I want.
“Good.” She moved aside, making room for him to take Skylar inside.
He wanted to take that step, but couldn’t make himself do so, caught in a stranglehold between a nebulous, twisted-gut feeling that told him he needed to do as this woman suggested, and his inability to relinquish his lover.
“Please,” the woman said. “I’m a doctor of sorts. You can trust me. I knew her father.”
This was a friend of the Donovan family. That’s how she knew Skylar’s name. Still, how did that make her so inured to his shape?
As he stood there weighing his options, Gavin caught a new scent that made his heartbeat ramp up to a new high.
You’re a wolf.
She nodded.
Gavin moved past her into the cabin, accepting that against all odds of finding another moon freak, wolf also tainted this woman’s blood. The scent was heady. Different yet unmistakably there. Not only that, she had a full grasp on what the curse meant and how to deal with it, which led him to believe she’d been a werewolf for some time.
Not alone. Not the only one.
“Not by a long-shot,” the newcomer confirmed with a blank, expressionless face.
Though the door remained open, the cabin felt cramped and claustrophobic as he laid Skylar on the leather couch. Skylar’s face was ash-gray. She seemed short on breath and made wheezing sounds as if her vocal cords were seizing. Noting those things made him feel ill all over again. Sicker than usual.
It will pass, Skylar.
He looked to the auburn-haired she-wolf and added, Hopefully it will pass.
Skylar’s overwrought body shook the couch. His body shook just as hard, rattling the table beside her. Sweat gathered on his forehead from the effort it took to stand here under this roof without moonlight calling the shots. The damn light outside beckoned to him.
But there was no hint of a transition back to his human form under the shelter of the roof. Not one crack of bone or sting of a claw retracting.
Hell, could he really freeze in this shape? Forever?
“I don’t want to tell you what to do,” the she-wolf said, coming up beside him, her presence a startling reminder that he might soon have the answers he’d been looking for all this time. “But it’s clear you’re in trouble and that what you need is out there, in the night.”
What I need even more is right here.
Gavin needed to get that point across.
“Skylar needs my help now,” she said, reading his thoughts loud and clear in yet another unexplainable anomaly he had no time to question. “Let me attend to her. Trust me to do that.”
Gavin couldn’t handle another minute indoors. Pain tore through him like a silver-tipped arrow going all the way through.
I can’t go.
“You have to, for her,” the newcomer said with a solemn finality that Gavin actually believed.
He had to trust this wolf, he supposed, because there was nothing he could do to help Skylar, and he felt so ill.
“I will take care of her,” the woman said. “I promise.”
The growl he offered in acceptance of her offer emerged as both a thank-you and a threat.
I will be back.
“Tomorrow,” she said. “Don’t return tonight. It’s best she doesn’t get close to you while you’re like this after you’ve imprinted. Her body will want a shape she doesn’t fully understand how to reach and isn’t ready for.”
Hellfire, he wanted to shout. Who could possibly be ready for this transformation or believe it could possibly be a part of rea
lity?
The woman across from him waved at the doorway.
She’s stronger than you think, he added in this strange thought-reading process. Skylar is strong.
“Strength will help, but there are no guarantees she’ll survive this if the light reaches her now, as you well know. It’s up to the body and its willingness to adapt. Being near me in this human shape will calm her down enough to postpone the transition.”
Postpone?
“Wouldn’t you have wanted an explanation first, before your first change?”
Yes. No. Hell, how do you know all of this?
“That’s a story for another time.”
You said “imprinted.” What is that? What did you mean? Tell me this one thing.
“You’ve mated. Found each other. Bonded. Yes? With us, imprinting is a fierce emotion, and it lasts forever. Your wolf senses hers now. That’s why you’re not changing back, even though you’re near me.”
He nodded as if that mystical remark made sense because the depth of his feelings for Skylar had been immediate and overwhelming. But did this imprinting business mean that Skylar couldn’t escape from him if she wanted to, and vice versa?
“Please,” the woman standing beside the door repeated. “You should go.”
He had no other option. His body was telling him that. With a relief bordering on madness, Gavin rushed back through the open doorway, hating the separation from Skylar and questioning this stranger’s trustworthiness, but he was no good to anyone like this. The she-wolf had arrived in the nick of time to help Skylar, and who could have predicted that?
The situation had changed. There were now four werewolves in this one tiny area—which made him wonder how many more Weres there might be, worldwide.
He had hurt the very person he wanted so desperately. Would Skylar forgive him?
Moonlight welcomed him as if they were the lovers here. In the open, away from the cabin, the silvery light caressed him with cool fingers, misty palms and chilled lips. That touch dripped over his face, flowed over his shoulders in a beastly, otherworldly cascade of instructions that eased his tremors somewhat.
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