Once Bitten_Wolves of Hemlock Hollow

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Once Bitten_Wolves of Hemlock Hollow Page 6

by Heather McCorkle


  I wanted to be a gentleman and allow her to be the one to break the silence, but there was so much I wanted to know about her. There were things I needed to know.

  “We will be away for a while. Do you have anyone you need to contact?” Not the most subtle way to find out if she was involved with someone or would have complications with the verða, but it was a legitimate reason. We could not have anyone looking for her.

  She snorted and damn if it was not cute as hell.

  “No.”

  Her voice slid over me like mist, tingling and hair-raising. The sensation traveled all the way down to my cock, threatening to make it stand up and take notice. I forced my mind to recall the most boring thesis I’d had the displeasure of reading last year. By the third chapter I had stopped my blood from flowing to my groin. A crude method, but effective. Nemi, she was my nemi, damn it.

  “No family or friends that might worry?” I asked once I could focus again.

  We rolled to a stop at a red light.

  Her voice dropped in both volume and energy as she glanced out the driver’s side window. “No. You don’t have to worry. No one will come looking for me.”

  That statement held a world of pain and unsaid words. I tried to catch a glimpse of her expression, but she would not turn back to me.

  “I apologize. I did not mean to pry into painful territory, but I had to know if there might be complications.”

  She shrugged and looked back at the road as the light turned green. “Don’t worry about it. I’m a struggling college student who tended bar in a town far from the place I grew up in until yesterday. Med students don’t have time for complications,” she said, voice carefully controlled.

  A War and Peace–sized novel of unsaid words lay within her tone, but I was not going to press. Not yet. The comment did make me wonder, though. Did I need to rethink my first thought of Raul choosing her because she was special? That she was special, I had no doubt. But Raul was a bit too shallow and dim-witted to put that much thought into his choice. It was easier to believe that he had chosen her because she had very few connections to her community and might not be missed for a while.

  “That is most certainly the rest of the world’s loss,” I told her, unable to not say at least something. It was hard to imagine anyone not missing this woman.

  She shot me a sideways glance filled with a mixture of distrust and appreciation. Someone had hurt her, badly, and I was guessing it was not just Raul. She did not reply and I did not press the issue. To do so would only make it worse, I could tell by the way her eyes narrowed. Trust was a long way off yet.

  We pulled into the parking garage and walked through the darkness back to our hotel room in silence. She peered into every shadow as if expecting something nefarious to leap out of it. But she did not look ready to flee. She looked ready to fight. I had to hide a smile as I opened the hotel room door for her and stepped aside to allow her entry first. She cocked an eyebrow at me as she entered, never quite turning her back to me. A breath eased from her as her eyes scanned the two queen beds.

  “I took the liberty of changing the room Raul had reserved to one with two queen beds. I tried to get a suite with a sofa sleeper in a separate room, but one was not available,” I said.

  “Thanks,” she snapped.

  I hoped the sharpness in her tone had more to do with the idea of meeting Raul here than it did with anything I had said or done. Unless, of course, she was disappointed in the idea of not sharing a bed with me… No. I couldn’t let my mind go down that road. She was attractive, yes. But I was to be her kennari. Which meant I would have to be on my best behavior. Ancient law forbid kennari to get involved with, let alone copulate with, their nemi for good reason. Going through the change heightened everything, emotions included. Taking advantage of her, let alone being a potentially deadly distraction, was not something I was willing to do. No matter how delicious those large breasts looked or how alluring her strength and resilience were, it was not worth the pain such an indulgence would cause. My stiffening cock disagreed.

  I took my time at the door, allowing her to choose which bed she wanted. She dropped her bag—which she had vehemently refused to allow me to carry—onto the bed farthest from the door. Such good instincts made me smile and I had to quickly turn away so she would not see and misinterpret it.

  The peel of her bag’s zipper seemed infinitely loud in the silence that fell. After pulling a number of items out of it, she looked up at me. Though her mouth was set in a hard line, a softness in her eyes told me her anger was dissipating.

  “I didn’t mean to snap. I’m sorry. Just hearing his name kind of pisses me off,” she said.

  This time I let the grin pulling at the edges of my mouth show a bit. “I understand.” Oh, did I ever.

  Toothbrush and paste in one hand and clothes in the other, she started for the bathroom. “I hope you don’t mind if I crash right away. I’m kind of wiped out,” she called over her shoulder as she entered the bathroom.

  “Of course. I understand,” I said.

  The door closed behind her and I did my best not to picture her changing. Those long, darkly tanned legs, that perfectly shaped ass… Yes, I completely failed.

  …

  Sleep remained elusive and sporadic, and not only because I was worried about Raul sending some of his friends after her. Despite the Council’s ruling, he was bound to try. The arrogant shit would not give up after going through all the trouble of biting her in. He had taken a huge risk. Incarcerated though he was, he would fight to finish making her his. If he did not, he would be condemned to an arranged marriage. And that was the last thing Raul wanted, player that he was. Of that I was sure. But that was not the main reason I tossed and turned all night.

  Sonya’s soft, steady breathing might as well have been brushing across the sensitive skin of my ears. She slept heavily due to the verða. Her spicy scent crept down into me, warming me and stirring my blood. I could not stop thinking about the spark that lit her eyes, the strength that kept her together when so many others would have crumbled. The way her hair shone in the light that filtered through the hotel curtain made it look like spilled silk around her curvy silhouette. A constant hard-on made it difficult to sleep, to say the least.

  I just had to hold out through the full moon, when the verða was over. Then, if I still felt this way and she was interested, I could pursue something with her. Right now the risk was not worth it. The strength of my reaction to her surprised me. After what had happened with my last girlfriend, I had not expected to feel this way about anyone again. A professional distance was best not only for her sake, but my own as well.

  Less than an hour before dawn, I could not take it anymore. I rose, made my bed, and grabbed a fresh change of clothes. After placing a chair in front of the door just in case, I started for the bathroom. One last glimpse at Sonya revealed the thin sheet covering her had been cast aside. The tantalizing curve of her ass cheeks was more exposed than covered by her incredibly short cotton shorts. My blood rushed to all the wrong places, making me hurry to the shower. Cold though the water was, it could not cool the heat radiating from within me. I turned it down even colder. The water pounded against me, running down the sensitive skin of my cock, making me harder. I could not take it. To go back out there and show any modicum of professionalism, I was going to need release.

  I grabbed a bar of soap in one hand, my cock in the other, and went to work.

  Chapter Seven

  Sonya

  The sound of a shower running yanked me from the slumber of the dead. All right, not quite the slumber of the dead. I was becoming a werewolf, not a vampire. Eyes opening to take in the hotel room crowded with two queen beds, I froze. Sunlight seeped in to frame the curtains drawn over a huge window on the opposite side of the room. Not more than three feet from the side of my bed, Ty’s bed lay empty, made up perfectly. If not for the sound of the shower and the sight of his hiking boots sitting on the floor at the foot o
f his bed, I might have thought yesterday had been a dream. But then, there was no way I would have dreamed up such a sexy blond guy only to have a disturbing conversation with him.

  Yawning, I sat up, eager to get away from the overwhelming smell of the flowery fabric softener that had been used on the sheets. The scent made me want to hurl. Muscles stretching with ease, I yawned and raised my arms above my head. Blood pumped through my veins at the thought of all Ty had told me yesterday. At least, I tried to convince myself it was our conversation, and not the memory of how he had filled out that Under Armor shirt that caused the reaction. Why did he have to be so fine?

  It didn’t matter that he was nice, polite, was a career man, and had just a touch of a sexy accent. I needed to focus on myself right now. Getting through this craziness and being strong on my own had to be my priority. The sooner this becoming crap was over and I had a handle on this, the sooner I could get back to school.

  I realized I felt good, well rested, and almost eager. When I had lain down last night, I hadn’t thought I’d be able to sleep at all. Not only had my head been buzzing with all I had learned, and wanted to learn, I had been in a room with a stranger I didn’t exactly trust yet. A stranger who was a werewolf, if he could be believed, which I hadn’t fully decided yet. Growing fangs did not a werewolf make, at least not in my mind. I kept hoping that was a recurring delusion.

  The water shut off, but even over the bathroom’s exhaust fan I could hear the drip, drip, drip of the showerhead. A towel bar rattled, filling my mind with a delicious image I had no time to be picturing. In only a little tank with a built-in bra and cotton shorts that barely covered the cheeks of my ass, I wasn’t exactly dressed for company. It made me wonder, had I been under the blankets when he’d walked to the bathroom? The idea of him getting an eyeful excited me in ways I wasn’t ready for yet. I couldn’t trust my judgment after Raul. Not yet, at least.

  A groan slid from me as I jumped from the bed, retrieved my bag, and dug out something to wear. A pair of black panties followed by my favorite blue jeans—they were all I had left that was clean—made me feel a touch less vulnerable. As I pulled the last shoulder strap of my lace bra on, soft footsteps padded on the carpet.

  A sharp intake of breath followed by what I thought might be a curse word in a foreign language came from Ty in a husky whisper.

  “I am sorry,” he said after a moment. Yet he didn’t leave the room.

  Like the ghostly fingers of seduction, his scent drifted to me: soap and shampoo that had the bare scent of those natural shampoos people make at home. Beneath it, like a present waiting to be unwrapped, lay his alluring male musk. I knew I shouldn’t have been able to smell such details, but then, I shouldn’t be sprouting fangs every time I got pissed, either. He smelled so enticing that I didn’t mind the former.

  Back turned, I wasn’t worried too much about modesty. I picked up my T-shirt and pulled it on. “No need. So what is that language? I’m guessing it’s the same one those words you spoke last night are in, am I right?” I could almost place it, but I needed to hear him say it to make it real.

  I turned around and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Despite the half-naked mountain of muscle standing there, I managed to keep the movement natural looking as I eased onto the bed. As if the sight of him with only a towel wrapped around his waist didn’t completely fluster me— yeah, right. It was a very good thing I had gotten the words out before I turned around, because my tongue was immobile in my mouth. The man’s six pack was outshined only by pectorals and arms that would make the most dedicated gym rat jealous. And the tattoos. Oh my God, the tattoos. Swirls and intricate knots in deliberate patterns wove around his arm and partway across his chest, accenting his muscles in the most delicious way. All this time I had been trying to convince myself that what lay beneath his T-shirt wasn’t nearly as good as the cloth made it look. I had never been so happy to be so wrong.

  “Icelandic.”

  With all those planes of hard flesh before me, it took a moment to remember that I had asked him a question, and a few more to remember what it was. After an embarrassingly long pause in which I regained my composure, I asked, “You’re from Iceland?” It would explain the tattoos that made him look as though he’d stepped off a Viking ship. Yet another tie-in to my dad’s beliefs and all those stories he told me when I was a kid. A shiver tried to run through me.

  “No.”

  Slowly, as if taunting me with all those delicious valleys and mountains of muscle, he crossed the room, picked up his bag, and walked back to the bathroom. My eyes widened as they took in the knotwork tattoo that continued from his arms, across his shoulders, and down his back. In its center was a circle that looked kind of like a wheel with Norse runes around it like the numbers on a clock, and in the center of that was a wolf’s head done in knotwork. It was the same symbol from the back of Raul’s jacket. The one that I had found so eerily similar to one of my dad’s tattoos. The similarity had been the reason I had started talking to Raul in the first place. It had to be connected.

  Ty didn’t close the door. I couldn’t see him, but that didn’t stop my mind from picturing that towel dropping to the floor a moment before I heard it hit.

  “I am from Hemlock Hollow, Montana. My ancestors were from Iceland.”

  Not far removed by that tantalizing hint of an accent. Unlike Raul, who sounded very American. But then, for all I knew, he worked on sounding that way. Anger, shame, and an unhealthy dose of self-loathing flashed through me. I hoped Ty wasn’t one of those speed freaks of the horsepower variety like Raul. Though I had no intentions of the horizontal variety on this guy, I still didn’t want him to be a thing like that bastard. “Do you belong to the same nitro-addicted group Raul does?” I snapped.

  His head poked out around the doorframe. Furrowed brows pinched his blue eyes. “Definitely not. Racing is not my thing. Not anymore. The mark from his jacket, the one on my back, it is the symbol of our ancestors.”

  Chills danced along my skin. My dad had said something like that.

  His head disappeared into the bathroom again.

  My mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come out. I didn’t know this guy well enough to trust him with info like that yet. The fact that I was ridiculously attracted to him made me want to trust him less, not more.

  I tried to focus on something else. “What do the rockers on Raul’s jacket mean? Is he in a gang?”

  “AVW stands for American Viking Werewolf. Montana is the state he hails from. Many of our kind belong to a secondary organization—an umbrella pack some call it—in addition to their pack. It helps keep them connected to our kind all across the world, and adds strength to their pack.”

  The water came on and I waited for it to shut off before asking my next question. “Do you belong to an…umbrella pack?”

  Silence stretched out so long, I didn’t think he was going to answer.

  “I am a lone wolf,” he finally said, voice husky with vulnerability.

  That he wasn’t a member of an organization—umbrella pack, whatever he wanted to call it—was a huge relief. Yet, I couldn’t lie to myself. Seeing him behind the wheel of a muscle car or straddling a racing motorcycle would be hot. Again, my mind had to beat back my traitorous imagination and recall what we were talking about. “Is that where Raul’s trial will be? Hemlock Hollow?” The anger speaking that man’s name caused helped to burn away my desire, bringing focus.

  “Yes, and that is where we are going, eventually, if you wish to go to the trial.” Ty’s voice grew louder as he walked out of the bathroom, unfortunately fully dressed. Even the way the man talked was sexy, all grammatically correct and scholarly. Oh God, I had never been hot for a teacher. Med school didn’t leave time for such juvenile things. What the hell was happening to me?

  Jeans and a dark blue T-shirt, both tight enough to suggest the wonders that I now knew lay beneath, clad all that gorgeous skin. Well, I didn’t know all that lay beneath… I had to dra
g my eyes up from his crotch to meet his gaze. Along the way I couldn’t help but notice the smug smile on his face. And was that a hint of desire in his own eyes?

  “I wouldn’t miss it,” I said as I stood, hands curling into fists.

  Ty shook his head, his wet locks sending droplets flying. “Beautiful and dangerous.” He blinked twice, hard, and forced his gaze away. “I apologize, that was inappropriate.”

  A thrill shot straight down to my groin. I grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” I hadn’t meant for it to sound so dirty, but it was out and taking it back would only make it worse.

  A grin flashed before he turned away.

  At twenty-seven years old, I wasn’t about to swoon over a sexy guy calling me beautiful. Quite the contrary. Or so I told myself. It gave me power, a power I might have to use later. While he gathered his things I pulled my shoes on and tried not to watch him too much. It was difficult. He moved with a grace unusual for a man his size. All the body builders I had seen at the gym had a stiffness to their movements, as if their muscles weren’t used to much more than lifting weights. Ty moved with a fluidity that was almost mesmerizing. Now who had the power? Ugh.

  “I’m ready to hit the road. Where is this Hemlock Hollow?” I asked as I put my jacket on and slung my bag over my shoulder.

  “Northwest, far north.”

  He opened the door and stepped aside for me. Charming as it was, prickles of caution traveled across my back as I bared it to him when I walked past. Only after he stepped alongside me in the hall did the tension drain from me.

  “So what’s the plan then? We head for Hemlock Hollow?”

  His face went stoic as a shadow passed over it, one that told me he wasn’t eager to go to Hemlock Hollow. He shook his head. “The trial is not until after the full moon, so we have a few weeks. We must get you through the verða by then, anyway. You do not want to go to Hemlock Hollow until after that.”

 

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