“Extremely. Both humans and varúlfur are pack animals.”
A delicious humming noise came from her. “Explain how flirting with me tests me.”
Not the smoothest change of subject, but I was not about to complain. There were some things I was not ready to tell her. Helheimr, I may never be.
“Before you shift you need to be in control of your emotions because they trigger instincts. If you lose yourself in instincts, well, then you have lost yourself. We will focus on your strongest emotion, the one that you find hardest to control, and master it.”
“And how will you go about teaching me to control these things?” There was a teasing note to the suspicion in her tone.
Keeping my expression blank as possible, I tried to look like her flirting did not affect me. “We will start with meditation.”
She nodded. “Makes sense.”
My eyes widened. “Really? No arguing about getting down to the real learning?”
“Nope. It makes sense that I would need to be able to control my breathing and focus first.”
“You sound like you are no stranger to meditation.”
“Like I said, my dad tried to teach me the art of glíma. Just because I wasn’t good at it doesn’t mean I didn’t listen.”
My mouth dropped open. The humility, the intelligence… This woman kept surprising me. I could have sworn I saw what looked like a thrill of victory shoot through her eyes. The mischievous grin she tried to hide made me think she was beginning to enjoy shocking me. If only I was not enjoying it so much. Thinking of how very much was at stake, particularly for her, I forced my expression to go blank.
“Good. That will make this a little easier on you. How about running?” I asked.
“Running?”
A smile slipped through before I could stop it. “Do you enjoy running?”
Shoulders rising in a half shrug, she cast her gaze to the path. “Yeah, I jog when I get the chance. I used to enjoy it when I had the time.”
I stepped out of my shoes while my fingers reached for the hem of my shirt. “Shall we see if you still do?”
Looking down at her hiking shoes and jeans, she shrugged. “Sure.”
With her eyes heavy upon me, I undid the buttons on my shirt as quickly as I could, giving her just a flash of my chest and tattoos. As I started to turn away, her eyes caught on my pendant—three interlacing triangles hanging on a steel and glass beaded chain. Odin’s symbol. No judgment or surprise hid in her expression, only curiosity. The reaction thrilled me and I really did not want it to.
Under the guise of stretching, she bent over and let her hair fall down to obscure her face. Through the ebony curtain I felt her gaping at me. Her heart picked up a fast rhythm, but her breathing stayed controlled. Already she was getting better at this. Pride swelled in me. I let my own gaze travel to the nice curve of her ass as she stretched. The swelling of pride moved from internal to somewhere very external. Part of me wanted badly to believe the thing I felt growing between us would not interfere with her verða. But I could not give in, could not take that chance. I had to remind myself that almost half of new varúlfur went mad. One-third odds were nothing to play around with.
Clearing my throat, I shook my head. “If at any time you start to feel out of control, just let me know and we will stop.” My voice had dropped an octave and become husky. Dammit, now who needed to work on their control?
It must have affected her because I felt her wolf stir much like the pressure before a storm. She breathed deep and it settled back down. Acting as if nothing had happened, she pulled a hairband from her pocket, put her hair up in a ponytail, and gave me a drop-dead-sexy look.
“Let’s go then.” She took off before the last word crossed her lips.
I settled in and let her pick the pace. The wolf inside thrilled at running with her. It urged me to go all out, but I resisted. Good as the wildness felt, I could not expect her to show control if I did not. And control was the vital element she had to learn. I concentrated on my breathing and the sensation of oxygenated blood pumping through my veins. Moments later our feet were gliding across the needle-strewn path. It gave way like a cushion beneath my toes. My tough skin assured that I did not even feel the needles. We ran and ran, continuing long after Sonya thought she should have tired. She remarked upon how surprised she was that she did not become winded, and her legs did not tire. Then she remarked upon the very ability to be able to make remarks without breathing hard after running for so long. She made me laugh. It had been a long, long time since anyone had been able to do that.
We followed the path that stretched around the edge of the lake framed by hills covered in evergreens, across a foot bridge spanning a crystal-clear creek, and back around to where we had started. When I stopped to put my shoes back on, Sonya buzzed with so much energy that she could hardly stand still. It was so cute I could hardly stand it.
“That was amazing, I’m not even winded. How is that possible? That had to be like five miles,” she said.
I slung my shirt over my shoulder and walked back to her, trying to act like I did not want to rub my skin all over hers and lick her in hidden places. How could she affect me so powerfully when no one else had been able to even stir my interest in years?
“One of the perks of being a varúlfur is great stamina,” I said as I fell into step beside her.
The gleam in her widening eyes told me the double implication of my statement did not escape her. I let the flirting drop. Helheimr, I should not have said that much. Together we returned to the path and walked back toward the house. Sonya literally bounced on the balls of her feet.
“How long can I run before tiring?”
“After the verða, days.”
That stopped her in her tracks. I kept walking, needing desperately to look at anything but her. A moment later she bounced into a slight skip to catch up to me. “Seriously? Can we test it out?”
I gave her a hard look. “Not yet. In a very short time you will be starving again and, as you discovered, that can come on rather suddenly.”
Her legs stretched out into a long, swift stride. “Tell me more about the runes.”
With the eagerness only a teacher could possess, I did as she asked. All the way back to the house we chatted about what the different runes meant written both normally and inverted, how they were cast like tarot cards by some to see the future (though Sonya interrupted with skeptical questions on that one), how they were used in language, and on and on. She was a bottomless pit of questions, but I liked that about her. When the house came into view she had finally managed to slow to a walk. I opened the front door for her and stepped aside. My eyes traveled over her curves when she walked past, lingering on her backside when she could no longer see me. The woman was downright intoxicating. I had to get away from her and collect myself.
“You may shower if you would like. I will get lunch started for us.”
She placed a hand upon her shapely hip. “Why, Tyler, are you saying I smell?”
Eyes squeezing closed, I cringed. “My uncle was the only one who called me that.”
The widening of her eyes told me she caught the past tense part. Her features softened into sympathy. My pain melted as I leaned in close, drawn to her. Nearly touching her hair, I breathed in deep. “And yes, you do smell incredibly sexy. Which is why you need to shower.” A mistake? Probably. But I could not handle her asking about my uncle. Not yet.
Letting my varúlfur speed drive me, I withdrew as quickly as I could, stirring her hair as I left, which only served to pull her scent after me. One moment I stood beside her, the next I was ascending the stairs to the loft all the way across the room. The distance was not nearly enough, though. I needed to get a door between us. Something about this woman completely undid my restraint. Considering I was supposed to be teaching her restraint, it was going to make for a very long couple of weeks.
And if she did not make it… I could not think that way. She had to make
it.
Chapter Eleven
Sonya
Left in shock by his words, I couldn’t even formulate a snappy comeback. The attraction being mutual came as no comfort. If anything, it could make it harder for me to keep my distance. But only if I let it, and I had no intention of doing that. After Raul, I wasn’t about to jump into anything again so soon—if ever again. Clearly my attraction to men was not to be trusted. I had to be able to stand on my own two feet—or four for that matter—through this. I still didn’t know whom I could trust in this strange new world, if anyone. Then there was the whole possibility of going insane and being put down. As if this wasn’t bad enough already.
Tearing my eyes from Ty’s impressive half-naked retreating physique, I started for my room. I desperately needed to wash that image from my mind. From my bag, I grabbed what clean clothes I had left. I made it halfway across the room before I realized I hadn’t even tried to lock the door. Something about Ty made me drop my defenses, and I didn’t like that. Or so I tried to convince myself.
Like the house, the bathroom had a modern look to it with more glass and travertine than wood and leather. Decorated in white, cream, and shades of beige, it was easy on the eyes. A huge mirror spanned one wall along which ran a counter that looked to be of solid frosted glass, a colorful blue and green hand-blown glass sink perched atop. The surprisingly large room opened up with more open floor space than I could imagine any practical use for in a bathroom. The guy had fantastic taste on top of being gorgeous, thoughtful, and successful. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t find a flaw in him.
Opposite the sink stood the glass doors to a huge shower. Along the wall behind the door I found several towels rolled up and placed artfully upon what looked like a brushed stainless steel shelf. Setting my clothes down on the counter, I grabbed a bar of soap that was either of the homemade variety or from an expensive store that liked to make it look that way. Next to the soap sat two glass containers with hand pumps. One was labeled shampoo, the other conditioner. Clearly, Ty wasn’t into store-bought toiletries. Lucky thing my hair was relatively easy to manage, straight as an arrow no matter what I did, but easy nonetheless. An experimental sniff of the containers brought only subtle scents and made me realize how much I smelled like sweat.
And he had thought that was sexy. Even that was charming, dammit.
“Ugh.”
I peeled off my clothes and dropped them on the floor. One brush against my arm and I tried to tell myself that my nipples stood at attention because of the cool air, not the memory of Ty half naked. Heat rushed down my stomach toward my groin as if to mock me. Time to wash that sight from my mind. Tucking the toiletries under my arm, I reached for the shower doors. They opened up to a space that looked better designed for an orgy than cleaning oneself. But then, that could be my present state of mind. The thing was ten by ten at least, more of a room than a shower, really, with four showerheads on two different walls. A bench of stone built as though it were part of the floor and walls stood at a height perfect for all kinds of interesting uses.
I shook my head and set the armload of toiletries on a shelf built into the wall. After several tries that ended in me soaked in a mixture of warm and cold water from three different sides, I finally figured out how to turn only one showerhead on. Warm water poured over me from a showerhead designed to feel like rainfall, and damn if it wasn’t amazing. Long breaths eased from me as my muscles relaxed and my energy finally came back under control. Eyes opening, I looked down as my hand skimmed down my stomach and over my hip. Just above my pubic hairline, my fingers stopped to caress my birthmark. It was a splotchy pink mark that resembled a crudely drawn S. The similarity to the Sowilo rune was not lost on me.
Dad had always told me the birthmark meant I was special. How or why, he hadn’t said.
I wanted to deny that I had been drawn to that rune, that maybe I had seen it from a distance and recognized it as similar to my mark. The shadows had cloaked it until I was nearly upon it, though. What drew me to it wasn’t the similarity, but something much deeper. Part of me wanted to tell Ty, to ask him about it, but I wasn’t about to. Not until I understood more. And more importantly, not until I knew I could trust him, at least a little.
Chapter Twelve
Sonya
Three solid days of nothing but running and meditation and I’d had enough of taking things slow with my training. As Ty had stated days ago, I was beyond ready to “get down to the real thing.” The full moon was getting closer. Each day that passed I could feel it tugging at me more and more. Nature, as well, pulled at me like never before, making me want something I didn’t understand. This new desire frightened me almost as much as the idea of shifting into something I wasn’t sure I could control and possibly going mad in the process.
Not to mention my attraction to Ty pulling at me more each day. I was actually handling the moon better than the man. Flaws weren’t exactly something he had in spades, or at all, that I could tell. Everything about him made me want to drop my defenses—and my undies. But dropping my defenses is what had landed me in this mess and ruined my plans for a future as a doctor. Still, if I was going to die… No, I couldn’t think that way. I had to make it.
Standing on the back deck looking out over the lake not far from the back of the house, a restlessness came over me that had me literally jumping in my skin like an espresso junkie. Now that I thought about it, espresso sounded really good. Maybe that’s what I needed, to be around people for a bit. Having gone through over a week of the verða now, I wanted to see if being around people felt different. I needed to know that I wouldn’t hunger for their flesh. True, I hadn’t so far, but what if it was something that developed further into the transformation? I wanted to trust that Ty wouldn’t lie to me about something like that, but I hadn’t known him long enough.
So soft they barely made a sound, Ty’s footsteps brushed against the deck in a pattern that was becoming quite familiar. It was like my thoughts had conjured him out of thin air.
“This is the view I long for when I’m in Hemlock Hollow.”
For a split second I almost thought he was talking about me. But of course he couldn’t be. I turned to see him looking out over the lake with a wistful expression softening his freshly shaven face.
“You don’t live here all the time?”
Sighing heavily, he shook his head. “I wish I could, but duty calls me back there often during the summer, and sometimes on the weekends.”
“Duty?”
He rested his elbows on the steel deck rail, gaze never leaving the still blue water. “Varúlfur politics that require my input.”
I touched his arm and gave him a hard look through narrowed eyes. The almost magnetic feel of his skin beneath my palm stirred things in me I didn’t want stirred. His long lashes fluttered and he leaned into me, telling me he felt it too. “I need to hear more about the packs, but can we please go into town? I’m dying for a good espresso, and I’m restless,” I forced myself to say.
He gave a slight shrug that failed to look as casual as he tried to make it, then moved away from the railing, but not so far that it would take my hand from his arm. Until then I hadn’t realized I’d left it there. I pulled it back a little too quickly. Thankfully, he pretended not to notice. The disappointment and shame in his eyes ruined the attempt.
“Yes, I need to pick up some things from the store. That is a good idea.”
Was that a touch of humor in his voice? I tried not to grind my teeth as I walked alongside him back to the house. The aggravation stirring within didn’t cause my fangs to extend, or even make my jaws ache with the need. Much as I hated to admit it, the meditation was helping. While in the bathroom putting my hair up, I heard an engine start. After grabbing my wallet, keys, and tucking my mace into my pocket, I made my way to the front deck. At the bottom of the stairs, Ty waited next to a forest green Chevy Colorado. The vehicle shone in the sun as if recently washed and waxed, yet the scars of
a few scratches and small dents proved it was also well used. For a man of his stature I had expected a Hummer, or at least a full-size truck.
“What, no big rig?” I asked as I descended the stairs.
Blue eyes sparkling, he grinned. “I have no need to compensate.”
Damn if those words didn’t burn a trail straight to my core and make me wonder exactly what lay behind the fly of those nicely fitted jeans of his. Feigning exasperation, I rolled my eyes and climbed in when he opened the passenger door for me. I became so caught up in ogling the pristine interior with its spaceship-looking console jammed full of electronics that I jumped when he opened his door. This truck was pretty much the polar opposite of my classic Jeep, so much so that it might as well be a Maserati. I couldn’t have felt more out of place as it was. Fumbling with the threadbare hem of my shorts, I stared at my filthy hiking shoes and realized I was going to have to rely on him a bit more than I wanted to.
“When we get back, do you mind if I use your washer and dryer? I’d be happy to do the cooking in exchange.”
The truck purred to life and eased out onto the gravel drive so smoothly it had me aching with envy. It wasn’t that I wanted a new vehicle. I didn’t. I liked my old classic. But I’d never had anything new. The dash felt like real leather. The smell wasn’t quite right, but it was close enough.
“Of course, but you do not have to work for it. You are my guest. Offering basic amenities is the very least I can do.”
My hand jerked back at the sound of his voice. “Is that what I am, a guest?”
“Of course.”
“So I can leave at any time?”
For a moment, his hand froze over the gear shifter, moving only when the engine revved so high it sounded like a growl. “You can, but I would not advise it. The verða is something you need to be guided through. And I hope you would not want to.” The last part was low and gentle, as if he knew he shouldn’t say it, but couldn’t help himself.
Once Bitten_Wolves of Hemlock Hollow Page 11