Zane came up beside him. “She did it on purpose.”
“Of course she did it on purpose. She doesn’t want us anywhere near her pack.” Damn it, the forest was dark, and as they all spread out and peered at the ground, looking for signs of their trail, he realized they were trying to find someone who was very adept at covering her tracks.
“I can’t find any sign of her or the boy,” Zane said, jogging up to him.
Matthias stood there for a moment, thinking. “We have no idea where the den is,” he murmured, “so no clue as to which direction they might be headed in.”
He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the immediate area. With the sense of sight removed, his other senses deepened. He could hear the rustle of the leaves in the tree, the slight ruffle of wings in the branches above. A cool breeze caressed his shoulders, and something small and four-footed scampered away from his group.
There. Honeysuckle and vanilla. He lifted his nose, sniffing at the air. Yep. It was faint, and it was laced with pine, as though she’d tried to mask her scent, but he would sniff her out if she dosed herself in pepper.
“There,” he said, opening his eyes and pointing forward and slightly to the right.
Zane frowned. “How can you tell?”
“Can’t you smell her?” Even now, her fragrance curled inside him, arousing him, and stirring his beast.
Zane sniffed the air, then shook his head. “Nope. All I’ve got is pine.”
Matthias smiled grimly. “Then follow me.” He turned to the group. “The rest of you, set up camp near that dip in the ridge.”
He and Zane loped off into the forest. They’d gone maybe two hundred yards when Zane tripped over something on the ground. He swore and picked it up, leaning back so the muted moonlight could illuminate the object.
A boot. Her boot.
Three steps later, Matthias found its mate, and narrowing his eyes, he could see the dark shadow of a pair of jeans dumped at the base of a tree.
He toed off his shoes, his hands lowering his fly. “She’s shifted.” He pulled his pants off and handed them to his friend. “Follow the trail. They’re going to need their clothes.” Matthias turned and started to jog into the darkness, shifting into wolf form as he ran.
* * *
Trin raced through the undergrowth, silently urging Jax to keep up with her. Her heart pounding, she kept changing direction, trying to make it as hard as possible for anyone to follow their trail. She’d used a pine sweeper to start, but once she shifted she couldn’t hold on to the sprig of pine to mask their scent. Hopefully it had been enough to prevent the Alpine guardians from picking up their trail.
She wasn’t quite sure what kind of start they had, but she was determined to take advantage of it. Jax tripped and rolled, a soft growl emitting from the little pup. He had a coat that consisted of sandy and brown patches, and she winced. His light colors weren’t exactly blending into the night forest. She paused until he got to his feet, then nudged him with her nose. They wouldn’t be able to get very far, not with Jax’s little legs and low stamina, but she hoped to get him to one of the tunnel entrances. Once there, they could hide and take their time to return to the den.
She thought of Matthias, and a faint sense of guilt rose within her. It had been low, leading them into the Nightwing corner. Low, but desperate. She knew there were always sentries there. It was close to the western border of their territory, and was one of the main thoroughfares east–west for the vampires wanting to avoid the lycan mountain ranges. It was always heavily guarded, and served almost as a stopover for traveling vamps.
How else was she supposed to get her and Jax away from them? Because there was no way she could do what Matthias wanted. The hackles on her back rose. No. Her heart pounding, she fought the instinct to increase her speed—that would leave Jax unprotected, and damn it, he was close by. She could sense him. She didn’t know why, didn’t understand this awareness she had of him, she just knew he was out there, hunting her down in the dark.
She spied a log in the short distance, and started to run for it. She could hide Jax in—
A flash of white was all the warning she had before she was hit in the side and sent rolling across the pine needles.
Jax skidded to a stop and barked as she found her feet, shaking her head. What the—
The white wolf growled, his green eyes flashing in the moonlight, head down. Instinct told her to lower her head, to sink to the ground and submit, and it took all her courage to deny it.
He was beautiful in wolf form, so fierce and graceful, his paws plodding with a lithe agility as he closed the distance between them. His coat was white, glistening like snow-flecked silver in the moonlight.
Jax scampered toward her, but the wolf growled in warning. The pup stopped and sat on his haunches, his head tilted to the side.
Trinity bared her teeth and growled back, lifting her chin. She wasn’t going to make this easy for him, damn it. How had he found them so quickly? He stalked past her, walking between her and the pup, and she had to pace to try and keep the pup in her sight.
The white wolf stepped forward, his lips curled back. She planted her feet and tried to catch Jax’s eye, but the pup was focused on the guardian.
She stepped one way, he mirrored it. To get to the pup, she would have to go through him, and he was that pissed she didn’t like her chances.
There was some thrashing in the underbrush to her left, and Zane emerged from behind a tree. Her eyes narrowed. He carried their clothing, a dark bundle in his arms. He paused when he saw the standoff, then dumped most of the clothes on the ground.
The guardian held up Jax’s clothing and whistled to the pup. “Come on, Jax, you’re coming with me. We’ll let these two sort it out.”
She paced, a growl low in her throat as Jax shuddered, shifting from his wolf form back to human, then took the clothing Zane handed him. When he was dressed, he raised his arms and Zane lifted him, hoisting him onto his hip. Trinity bound to her left in a last-ditch effort as he walked back into the darkness, but the white wolf sprang in front of her, ears erect and forward. He snarled at her. She snarled back.
He started walking around her, the gold necklace glinting against the white-silver coat, getting closer to her until his shoulder brushed against her in a not-so-gentle shove. She lashed out with a paw, teeth bared. He circled behind her, and she pranced about to face him.
It took her a moment to realize he was herding her back toward the fallen log. It bent at an angle on the forest floor, and he was effectively backing her into a corner.
She snapped her teeth in warning. She wasn’t going to be backed into anything.
He stared at her for a moment, so close she could feel his breath across her lips. Then he dipped his head and sniffed.
For a moment she was stunned, then she did the same. Oh, he smelled heavenly. Pine, moss and that sexy, alluring musk that was him and him alone. He moved, his body brushing against hers, and she dropped to her haunches. He wasn’t going to bite her. He wasn’t going to attack her. She could still sense his anger, but he’d calmed down. She rose to her feet and crossed to the pile of clothing, shifting as she went.
She felt the shift in air currents behind her, and knew he did the same. He was naked, and so was she. She grabbed up her clothes and turned to face him.
He was...stunning. All muscle, he stood there in the moonlight, a perfectly formed warrior. And he was staring at her.
Lycans always shifted naked. They couldn’t control their clothes, and most of the time stripped before a shift to save on the cost of their wardrobe. The Woodland forest and tunnels were peppered with stashes of clothing for the use of any lycan who needed it. So the naked form was nothing new to her. She’d seen others, and others had seen her, but for the first time, she was vitally aware of her body, as well a
s another’s.
She stood tall, her shoulders back. The cool wind played with her hair, the tendrils caressing her bare shoulders, making her shiver at the teasing sensation. His gaze skittered over her, from the top of her head, halting briefly at her lips before scanning downward. His gaze paused at her breasts, and they grew heavy under his scrutiny, before he lazily toured over the rest of her body, the indent at her waist, the flare of her hips, and lower past the delta between her thighs and down her legs. It was a while before he raised his gaze to hers, and she sucked in her breath at the clear and visible hunger in his eyes.
She couldn’t ever remember anyone staring at her so openly, so intently, so freely displaying his desire. She stared back at him for a moment, taking in his broad shoulders, wide and deeply muscled chest, narrow hips, and the erection that told her his desire wasn’t her imagination. She swallowed. He was...big. Powerful. Strong. The ring on the chain glinted in the moonlight.
And he bore the brand of another woman.
She turned away from him and dragged on her jeans. He had no business staring at her like that, getting her all hot and hopeful, when he wore the ring of another. She dragged on her bra and snapped it quickly, then pulled her long-sleeve T-shirt on over her head. She scooped up her jacket and turned back to him, her composure in place.
Until she realized he was only now reaching for his pants. The moonlight played over the muscular curve of his butt, and he eyed her closely as he slipped one foot into his pants, then the other. He slid the pants up over his legs, never once looking away from her. She swallowed. How the hell did a guy make getting dressed so damn sexy? It was like watching a stripper in reverse, yet just as provocative.
She slid her arms into her jacket, shrugging it up over her shoulders. She was about to lift her hair free from the collar, but suddenly he was there beside her, his large hand sliding to cup the back of her head, lifting her tresses free of the garment.
He watched the dark curls tumble down her back, and slid his fingers beneath a tendril of hair, rubbing it between his fingers. For a moment he was so focused, so intent on the feel of the hair between his fingertips. Then his gaze shifted to hers, and it was almost a shock when her gaze met his, so close was his face, so blatant was his arousal. He twisted the hair around his fist and gently tugged her closer.
Chapter 7
This woman, this she-wolf, tied him up so tight in knots Matthias didn’t know which way was up and which way down. Moments ago he’d been so damn angry, so hurt that she would willingly lead him into a vampire’s trap, and put the rest of his group at risk. Now just her scent had the ability to drive the anger out of him, and replace that emotion with something just as hot, just as consuming, and far more satisfying.
Using her hair to pull her closer, he kept his gaze on hers. Her eyes were so luminous, so wary, yet so hungry for him. It felt like an aphrodisiac, making him throb in time to the pulse that beat strong and regular in the sweet indentation at the base of her throat.
He touched his lips to hers, heard the delicious gasp from her lips, felt the heat from her body and gave himself up to the experience. He cupped her face, her skin so soft beneath the rough pads of his fingertips. With the slightest pressure, her mouth opened beneath his, and his tongue slid in to stroke against hers. For a moment, that was their contact, mouth to mouth, his hands cupping her head. Then her hands grasped his arms, and instead of pushing him away, they slid up over his biceps to his shoulders. Her fingernails scraped up his neck and through his short hair in that way that instantly set a match to the passion he was trying to control.
Licking, gliding, caressing, the heat built between them as they exchanged long, drugging kisses. He trailed his hands down to her chest, his gaze flickering briefly over her shoulder. He wanted to explore her body, wanted to learn all her secrets. He walked her backward until they reached the broad trunk of a tree, and she leaned back against it, her nails scraping over his scalp as she tugged him closer.
He bent down and lifted her, resting her hips at the same level as his. God, she was amazing. Beautiful. Intoxicating. Again and again, their tongues dueled in a carnal battle. She made him feel so hot, so achy, his arousal so damn tight against his pants. He pressed his hips into hers, feeling her heat through their clothing, craving it. His hand lowered to her breast, and she moaned. He drank in the sound, his mouth gliding over hers, tasting her like a fine wine. She arched into his caress, and he molded his hand over her breast, cupping it, his thumb strumming over that perky little tip.
Rolling his hips in a hypnotic rhythm, his heart pounded in time to the pulse throbbing in his cock. He stroked the rounded curve of her hips, slid his hand under her buttocks and lifted her against him. He sank into that sweet spot between her thighs that seemed just as hot for him as he was for her. He pumped his hips against her, hearing the catch in her throat at each press of the hips, each slide. Matthias wanted their clothes gone. Now.
He dragged his lips from her mouth and kissed his way down her neck as he carefully lowered her legs to the ground. Leaning back with his hips still pressed to hers, Matthias tugged at her jacket. She leaned forward, and he slid it off her shoulders and down her arms.
“Yes,” she whispered, her hands caressing his back roughly, as though her urgency matched his.
He kissed her again, tongue licking at hers, then parted from her just long enough to whip the T-shirt she’d just donned up and over her head. She grabbed him and pulled him close again, kissing him frantically now, moaning as he cupped her breasts, the lacy bra a frustrating barrier to the bounty he knew she concealed.
Her hands trailed down from his shoulders, sliding over his chest, and he shuddered at the feel of her hands on his body.
And then she stopped.
She pulled her mouth from his, looking up at him before her gaze dropped to the chain under her hands. Then she pushed him away.
“You skunk,” she exclaimed, and punched him on the chest. He backed up, not because that paltry blow made any real impact, but because he was so stunned by her change in mood.
He gaped at her as she shoved at him, and he backed up farther, his hands palm out. “What?”
She bent and retrieved her T-shirt, pulling it on so quickly, so brutally, it looked like she was boxing with the fabric. She finally stuck her head through the right hole and glared at him.
“You skunk,” she repeated, contempt lacing her tone. “We are so not doing this.”
“But I liked doing this. So did you.” What the hell? How had they gone from trying to get into one another’s pants to this?
She waved her finger at him, apparently lost for words for a moment, then she clenched her hand into a fist. “There is something really wrong with you,” she snapped, and started to storm off.
Her words hit him like a shower of glass slicing through his heart. So hot, so fierce was the pain, he actually staggered back a little. She knew. Somehow, just with a kiss, she knew. He swallowed, dragging a hand over his face as she stomped between the trees. How? How had she sensed what none of his pack had? He sucked in a breath. Well, obviously knowing was a turnoff. Her rejection stung, an effective cold wash over his desire. His lips firmed. See, this was why he never got involved with the opposite sex. It just hurt too damn much.
He would have liked for them to just keep walking in opposite directions, and never come into contact again, but even though he was humiliated, hurt and ever so angry, he couldn’t let her walk off. At least, not in that direction.
“The camp is back that way,” he yelled, pointing off to his right. She glanced over her shoulder, frowned, then changed direction. He stayed where he was. If he wasn’t so angry, so humiliated, he’d tell her that her shirt was on inside out.
* * *
Trin sat under a tree, tying an elastic on the end of her braid as she watched Matthias speaking with h
is lycans. Jax was playing some sort of hand-slapping game with one of the guardians. The lycan winced every now and then, and even from here Trinity could tell he was letting the pup win a few rounds. Finished with her braid, she idly lifted a twig that lay next to her boot. Upon his return to the camp last night, Matthias had ordered them to sleep apart. He’d lain down near the pup, and some guardian named Kai had taken up watch over her. Dawn had finally broken after a sleepless night, and the sunlight shone through the branches of the Douglas firs. She watched as Zane asked a question, and Matthias shook his head, his short hair a golden cap in the sunlight.
But not the least angelic. Trin snapped the twig she’d been playing with, anger and shame still thrumming through her veins. She wasn’t stupid. That was a wedding ring he wore around his neck. It wasn’t common, but it wasn’t unheard of for mates to exchange rings. The problem was hanging on to them through a shift. She picked up another twig. Her father had worn a ring, as had her mother. Her mother’s ring was lying in a box padded with cotton wool back in her homely little cave. Her father’s ring—well, that had disappeared, probably swept away when he...died. Her vision blurred.
She knew the significance of that ring. She knew the commitment, the loyalty, the fidelity that was supposed to go along with it. The twig snapped again, and she tossed the broken wood over her shoulder. She reached for something else, something stronger. Her father had loved her mother to the point of distraction. It had been a legend in her pack, the alpha prime tamed by his she-wolf. She sniffed. The ring symbolized love. Devotion. It was a promise, a vow, a pledge—love without end.
And Matthias had pledged that to another woman. The stick in her hand snapped, and she dropped it at her feet. How could he kiss her like that, when his heart belonged to another? How could he make her feel like they were the only two on earth, that he was solely focused on her, when he had a she-wolf warming his den?
Lycan Unleashed Page 7