Surrender (Fated Souls Book 1)

by Elle Lincoln

  “I think I’m having a heart attack.” I fall into his arms. I’d think this was a joke, but nope. Not a joke. The stress finally caught up to me. Somehow, I’m dying and horny at the same time. “Hospital.”

  “Sweet goddess,” the old man exclaims on an exhale. “Impossible.”

  “Possible,” I croak, but I’m not looking at him, my eyes stay glued on the god before me. Everywhere he touches burns in pleasure, even as the pain in my chest pinches and clicks a final time. My heart beats rampantly in my breastbone as it tries like hell to thump right out of my body.

  “Are you real?” He pulls me in closer, his head slipping to my neck as he inhales slowly. His lips brush against my skin, his beard scratching me to leave a trail of desire in its wake. A throaty moan bursts from my lips as my body clenches in need.

  I should be embarrassed by my wonton ways right now. But the succubus in my pants is demanding I get this party started with or without his dad looking on. And that snaps me out of it.

  That and the literal click as my chest slows and thumps back to a normal rhythm. I break free of his arms, reluctantly of course, and only after my hands roam over those biceps. Then once again for good measure. A girl can’t be too sure whether or not he might be wearing padding with muscles like that. But nope, all delicious muscle.

  Stepping back with wide eyes, I cough, trying to salvage myself any way I can, but I’m sure the damage is done. “Right, so… Not dying. Looks like just a minor panic attack. Moving on. I’m going to need some veggies and meat.”

  The Adonis in front of me gifts me with a lazy smile, his very kissable lips ticking up at the corners. “Meat?” he teases. He hasn’t let go of me either, his thumb rubbing little circles on my inner elbow.

  Who knew elbows could be so erotic? I sure as hell didn’t.

  A blush creeps up my neck to bloom on my face, but dammit, I won’t back down now. “Salami if you have it?” I give him a teasing smile right back. “I like to just bite it like a banana.”

  I snap my teeth like a barracuda. Who even am I?

  Throwing his head back with laughter, he slides his fingers down to grab my hand, leading me out. “Oh, by the goddess, it’s about damn time.”

  Figuring it’s just something in his religion, I follow him out into the store with his dad on our heels. I’m not sure where we are going, but I’m not surprised when we step in front of the meat case.

  “Whatever you want, Doll.” His thick brows dip low over his sapphire eyes that light up as they look at me. “Tonight’s meal is on me.” I’m not sure he’s talking about the salami anymore.

  I cross my arms, still not trusting myself not to reach out and touch him. “What’s the catch, big guy?” I’m talking about the salami.

  “No catch, it’s my gift to you.” I do not miss the heat in his gaze as he says the words.

  I need a fan. Is it hot in here? It’s hot. Definitely hot.

  “As long as you stop calling me Doll.” I can’t help it, his genuine smile and, hell, just something about him puts me at ease, making me forget everything Dad told me about flirting with strange men. “Sabina.”

  He blinks at me once, twice, his jaw dropping then opening like a guppy before he glances at his father.

  “You’re Allen Kowalski’s girl?” I look over at the older man. The suspicion in his gaze is gone, and in its place is a deep, burgeoning respect.

  “You knew my dad?” My heart twists, but not in that painful pinch again. No, this time it’s yearning to know someone he did. To find that last connection to him that still lives in this world.

  To know if he knows what the hell happened to my dad.

  “Allen and I were damn good friends.” He takes my hand and shakes it, but then doesn’t quite let it go, his rough, calloused fingers gripping mine. I hang on to them right back. Just like Dad’s hands. “Sabina, we are so damn sorry. Name’s George, this is my kid, Liam. Anything you need in here, it’s on us. Your dad—” Emotion clogs his throat, the words cracking until he shakes his head.

  I know the feeling all too well. “Thank you.”

  The front door crashes open, and my whole body jumps and jerks like a puppet on a string. It isn’t just the noise, but the ominous feeling that sweeps through the store with that clatter.

  “George, who the hell is driving Allen’s truck? Alpha will kill anyone driving it, and I ain’t in the mood for his bullshit today!” Boots clomp toward us on the broken linoleum.

  I dart around Liam and down another aisle. The voice is freaking me out on a level I just can’t describe. I know I need to get the hell out of here before he directs that anger at me. So I do the only sane thing a girl can do.

  I lunge for the doughnuts. I need those doughnuts to survive, and I’m not leaving here without them. My long hair slides over my shoulders, hiding me as I duck down, even though no one can see me through the aisle.

  Unfortunately, my rebellious flip-flops squeak on the floor, giving me away.

  “Who the hell are you?” The thunderous voice makes me pause in my terrible creeping. Everything inside of me flips and flops. Caught, I stand to my full short height and look at the man in a black uniform. I love a man in uniform.

  Delicious.

  I meet his gaze, probably looking like a deer in the headlights, caught for doing something though I did nothing but try to escape. Yet before I can take a good long look at him, that pinching begins in my chest once more, this time knocking me sideways, and my body crumples into a stack of pasta.

  “Not the pasta!” I cry out as a box tumbles to the floor. Perfectly safe in its cardboard home, each beautifully carved piece crunches as the box spins. My precious carbohydrates clatter together in the box as it lands by my foot as though seeking its true master. My pasta.

  Strong arms lift me from behind, cradling me against a hard chest, and without even looking, I know it’s Liam, the scent of freshly baked bread tickling my nose.

  “What is this shit?” I yell, as the pinching picks up again, pounding through my heart and slicing my chest open. The thudding sound of boots track me until the newcomer looks down at me with a sneer.

  “You can’t be serious.” He throws his arms up, knocking more pasta to the floor.

  “Save the pasta,” I croak.

  “For fuck’s sake, man, touch her!” Liam growls. “End it now, brother.” The way he says the word makes me pause enough to glance up at both of them. Their eyes are glued to one another, and is that—

  “Are you growling?” The pinch turns into a knife twisting in my gut. I whimper, “I need a doctor. Yep, a real doctor. This must be a heart attack. Dad’s death and the stress is just getting to me. That’s all, everything is fine.” I begin to scream in pain until it feels like my heart is trying to twist in my chest. If it wasn’t for Liam holding me up, I’d fall to the floor.

  With a growl and a sneer, the sheriff stands before me, his chest heaving. I note briefly that he has one green eye and one blue. Both piercing. All his other features blur around me. “Why now? Why?” He reaches out and cups my face, and as soon as his skin touches mine, the pain goes away, and in its place is a deep burn that floods my system and steals my breath. “It’s done. Don’t expect me to fuck the burn away, Damsel.” Pushing away from me, he stands and marches off, leaving me in Liam’s arms. A moment later, the door slams open and closed.

  “Nope. I’m out.” I sit upright, sweat beading on my forehead and dripping between my breasts. Unfilled desire spikes through me, making the heat spiral hotter until the only way to extinguish the flames is—

  Well, yeah.

  I push away, deciding I’ll starve. Wait, no. I reach down, grab a box of pasta off the floor, and turn to Liam. His dad is gone. “I’ll be taking this, thank you very much.” I wiggle my prize in front of him and spin on my heel.

  Liam’s hand grips my elbow. Escape was so close. So, so close. He hops in front of me, and everywhere he touches, sparks dance along my skin. “Let me make it u
p to you, Sabina.” Sadness flashes in his eyes as he looks off to where his friend went. “Christian is difficult, and he just wasn’t expecting you. I don’t think any of us expected you.”

  “Lie.” I purse my lips, not liking that he’s giving this Christian any excuses. “How are you going to make it up to me?”

  The succubus in my pants knows how he can... Down girl!

  “Let me bring you dinner, I already know which cabin is yours.” His smile is panty dropping, and if we weren’t in public, I just might drop mine. “I’ll bring the doughnuts too.”

  Free doughnuts? Yep, panty dropping.

  I try to feign indifference. But doughnuts. He has me, and judging by that wolfish grin, he knows he does. “Okay.” I sigh dramatically before turning and marching right the hell out of there. Luckily, he doesn’t follow. Outside in the crisp autumn air, I breathe easier, but as I walk to my truck, I can’t help but feel eyes on me.

  I haven’t been to Lunar Mile in six years—Dad’s wishes, not mine. I’m not so sure I should have come back.

  Chapter 3

  The rumble of the engine calms my frayed nerves. I slam and lock the doors of my blue pickup when the feeling of being watched doesn’t exactly go away. An angry flush creeps up my face because I’m left pulling away with nothing I needed from the grocer, and my stomach is rolling toward that angry hunger. I rub my belly as though that may help it feel better. It doesn’t.

  I gaze over at the sheriff’s station, a run-down white stucco building, where Christian stands at the door. His fists clench as he stares right back at me, and I swear his anger pulses off of him.

  I refrain from sticking my tongue out at him. Barely.

  I slam my foot on the gas, swinging out and kicking up dirt and debris. Though if I’m being honest, I’m trying not to notice how tall he is in that doorway or how he takes up the entire frame with his bulk. Switching gears, I speed off, knowing Dad’s cabin is another ten minutes away.

  Dad.

  For the first time in weeks, I don’t keel over at the thought of him, the mention of him. He left an impression on the men of this town that leaves my heart full. So often, I worried about him being out here by himself in the wilderness all alone. Yet the sadness and sorrow in George’s eyes paints a story of friendship I’m eager to understand. But Dad was like that. Most people either loved him or hated him. But those who loved him did so with fierce devotion.

  It’s also the other reason I didn’t hesitate taking time off of work for a month and packing up what I could to come out here. My boss didn’t hesitate, one of the benefits of teaching at a private school. No one knows how Dad died, just that he did. At first, I didn’t believe it, and we only got his ashes. I never saw his body.

  No one would do an autopsy.

  No one would take the case.

  My mother won’t even push it.

  Normally, she carries that typical chip of justice on her shoulders. But when the call came in a month ago, saying that the sheriff found his body in these very woods, all Mom asked was to receive his ashes. I didn’t even get an open casket to say goodbye. Just a wake with a one-dimensional picture of a man with a belly laugh who bent over backwards for everyone he loved.

  He deserved more.

  My instinct hasn’t stopped screaming at me that something isn’t right. That there is so much more to the story. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, or maybe I’m right. My mother’s reluctance to find out what happened burned my gut, still burns it. I know why, if I’m being honest. The need to protect me is clear in her steel blue eyes. She needn’t bother, I know something bad happened out here.

  Now, I’m heading to the place he called home. This town was his home, while he was my home. That fact slams into me as I barrel down the quiet road, the sun chasing my tailgate. These woods were everything to him.

  Dad was fit, healthy even besides all the ice cream he ate. I’m still not convinced this was just another case of that damn curse. This is so much more. The whisper of that something flowed in my veins until I could do nothing but jump for joy when his lawyer read the will.

  I focus on the road in front of me, the looming trees and the birds soaring low. These woods hold the secret to why the only man I have ever loved died. The only man I will ever allow myself to love. His crystalline blue eyes flash in my memory, his mischievous smile and tanned face.

  Yet this time the pain doesn’t pull me under. This time, a drive to figure out what happened burns through me. And maybe… just maybe I’ll heal the hole he left with his death.

  Ahead, his long, spiral, rocky lane spills out onto the road. With care, I pull onto it, expecting the pain of his loss to spear me, but it doesn’t. Overgrown branches reach out to the windows, grazing the side like a lover. Leaves brush the top of the truck while wild weeds touch the undercarriage. My shocks do their best to take the potholes like a beast. I make a mental note to trim the brush away from the lane at some point this week.

  Right now, the mile-long lane stretches before me in a tunnel of trees that stand like sentinels, towering over me in protection. Though that did little to protect my father. Still, the woods radiate peace, and the jungle of northern Pennsylvania settles into my bones like coming home. The feel of these woods wraps around me, the whisper of that rightness easing my sorrow just a fraction more.

  Then, the cabin comes into view, appearing majestic as it rises from the earth. Built on a slight incline, I can see all its levels. My breath catches. It’s been years since I’ve been here, and right now it looks like the towering beauty I once remembered.

  My dad built it with his own hands, log by log, and brick by brick. My father was an incredible carpenter, taught by his father and so on. The wrap-around porch where the rocking chairs sit draws my eye. The front of the cabin rises with a wall of windows, giving a shadowed glimpse into the three levels, each floor holding multiple bedrooms.

  Cabin doesn’t even come close to describing the monstrosity before me. An indoor pool sits to the left, the wall of windows smudged with mold. To the right is a staircase which leads to the wraparound porch on the second level. The back of the cabin was built into the side of the mountain.

  I slow the truck, shift to park, and sit in silence. Memories of Dad building this place drift before me. I remember sweat beading on his forehead as I asked every question under the sun. Most days, he had the patience of a saint, while others he had none. On more than one occasion, I distracted him, and he’d lose his concentration and hurt himself. That was how he got those scars he called beans.

  He gave me that nickname—Bean.

  Mindlessly, I shut down the engine, tightly gripping the keys in my hands. My door squeaks loudly in the too still forest, the wildlife holding its breath for this very moment. I slide down the leather seat and slam the door shut, the keys now indenting my palm. Gravel crunches under my feet as I walk toward the steps. My footsteps slow to allow my hands to caress the wooden banister. His care and love were built and carved into each hand-crafted piece.

  I once asked him why he needed six bedrooms for just one guy. He’d always just laugh it off, telling me one was his and the other mine. I still don’t know why he needed so many bedrooms, especially if he knew it would be mine one day. He knew that I felt like the size of the cabin wasn’t necessary. Still, the cabin is now mine, and I can’t decide if I want to keep it or sell it. Though in the end, I’ll never part with it.

  The steps barely creak as I walk up to the front door, which sits on the side of the cabin on the porch. I put in the code, and the lock snicks like a gunshot. The door groans open, sending out a wave of stagnant air in its wake. No one has been here since he passed.

  Once I push past that door, I have no idea what I’ll find. What truths lie just beyond. I back away as fear claws at my chest. The railing presses into my back while my heart shreds at the unknowns. The slice of his death cuts deep to expose raw muscle, a wound that will fester and rot if I don’t heal it properly.


  “Hey!”

  Startled, I scream, but I’m too close to the railing. I begin to tip over, my arms thrashing wildly. Shit, I’m going over. This is it, I’m about to fall over the railing to the forest below where I’ll die. My balance spirals out of control until powerful arms grab mine, and fierce blue eyes gaze down at me in shock.

  “I’ve got you.” Liam’s husky voice wraps around me like my favorite whiskey. It’s deeper than earlier with the hint of something profound lying just beneath the surface. I bet it’s from that initial shocked reaction to me falling. “Just in time, doll face.”

  “Thanks.” He settles me back on the porch, his fingers drifting over my skin in a caress, leaving a trail of burning warmth in their wake. I cough to dispel the need to wrap myself around him like a hussy. “I was just about to head in.”

  “That’s why I rushed out here.” His hand flies to the door while the other rips at the blond hair on his head. “Sabina, we would have cleaned it up, but none of us had the code.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat, remembering why I’m here. His words are the confirmation I needed and didn’t want. My gut is correct in assuming Dad’s death was not accidental. Having Liam beside me gives me a strength, and I need to press open the door and ask the questions that filter through my thoughts. “Did he—” My voice cracks, I can’t ask.

  “No, he didn’t die inside, but whatever happened began here. I don’t know why he didn’t call for help.” His head swings down, reminding me just how big he is. Tall, easily six-foot-four and stacked. I don’t want to focus on his words, I’d rather focus on the attraction flaring like electricity between us. But I can’t ignore my problems.

  Besides, I’m cursed. “Do you know where?” I spin around, my eyes catching on the thick forest. Seeing past twenty feet is impossible, I’ll have to walk into it.

  Ignoring my question, he asks another. “Do you want to go in? I brought food, and I figured I’d help you sort the place out. Depending on what it looks like, I can call a friend to help.” His voice sound so hopeful.