Wolf Love: Warrior Wolves Complete Collection, Books One to Five
Author: Christine DePetrillo
Date: 2000-01-01 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: happily ever after; Love; Romance; Fiction; Shifters; soulmates; Werewolves; Paranormal; General; Paranormal Romance; gods and goddesses; Celtic warriors
Description: Five Celtic warriors of the past are banished to the present. Small-town Vermont will never be the same. When Reardon McAlator sees that his army will not win against a formidable enemy, he shares a "gift" with his top warriors. That secret weapon brings them an epic victory, but it also angers Flidae, the Goddess of Wild Things. Exile for Reardon and his four brothers in battle is the punishment. Or is it a prize instead? "A fresh take on the standard werewolf love story." "Full of memorable characters with a solid plot and plenty of passion." "Recommended to all that love shifter tales!" Joi

WOLF LOVE

Warrior Wolves

The Complete Collection

Books One to Five

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by Christine DePetrillo

Copyright 2021 Christine DePetrillo

All Rights Reserved

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Cover design by Dar Albert of

Wicked Smart Designs
www.wickedsmartdesigns.com

Series Edited by Janet Hitchcock
www.theproofisinthereading.wordpress.com

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This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the copyright owners except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places, events, business establishments or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Table of Contents

WOLF KISS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue

WOLF FIRE

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

WOLF VOW

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Epilogue

WOLF ANGEL

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

WOLF SUN

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Epilogue

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About the Author

WOLF KISS

Book One

Warrior Wolves Series
by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter One

“Our men’s blood is falling like rain upon parched soil!” Reardon McAlator raised his sword, and iron clanged against iron as he fended off yet another opponent. The earth beneath his feet had soaked in too much of his army’s blood. Too much of his own blood. A gouge in his forearm burned as if it’d been seared with a heated blade. Normally, Reardon cut into other people. He wasn’t the one to be cut.

“We have no chance of winning this,” his brother, Jaemus, hollered, though his words could barely be heard over the battle cries, the moans of the wounded, and the crash of swords and shields.

Reardon slashed at the arm of an enemy soldier as he was about to gut Jaemus then swiveled around to stab his sword into the chest of another assailant. The strikes kept coming and, though his army was only outnumbered by a few, they were getting crushed. The Spanish king had hired Reardon and his company of warrior mercenaries to defend his lands. On most occasions this worked out to be a profitable deal for Reardon and his men. They fought mercilessly, dropping body after body, losing none of their own, then collected their payment. They’d become rich lads by killing—something each of them excelled at. They roamed from place to place, did as they pleased in between battles, and generally enjoyed their brutal way of life.

Until today when the tides had turned against them.

“If we don’t retreat now, there’ll be none of us left to bury our dead,” another of Reardon’s kin, a cousin, Kole McMannus, yelled as he cut into a man’s neck with his sword, blood spilling out in a warm, crimson wave.

“Aye!” Reardon held his sword up in the air and waved it around in a tight circle—his company’s signal for retreat. “To the woods, lads!”

As one, the army bolted for the forest past the river. They sloshed through the shallow water and stomped through the brush until they were far enough away from their opponents.

Spain’s opponents.

Reardon often forgot the enemies they fought were never truly their enemies, but other men they’d been paid to fight. That was what they did. Waged war for a price. A high price. Was it all worth it? He questioned that on a daily basis, but he and his men were only good at one thing.

If you didn’t count today, of course.

“They fight like beasts.” Shawn McMannus, Reardon’s other cousin and brother to Kole, bent in half, resting his palms on his knees and taking in a few deep breaths. His hands and muscled arms were bloody and bruised like everyone else’s, and his light brown hair was darkened by dirt, sweat, and more blood.

“Fighting like beasts is usually our job.” Erik Rheagan rested his sword against a tree and flexed his hands. Two of his fingers were definitely broken, bent at odd angles. His face was smudged with blood and his armor was dented in several places.

“I think we’ve finally met our match.” Jaemus gestured back to the battlefield where the sounds of the enemy’s rabblerousing carried to them on the wind.

Reardon let out a growl. His men had been sought after mercenaries since he’d assembled them. Legends were written about them. They never lost battles. They never retreated. Victory was always theirs.

Always.

Looking over his men now, his fists curled as he took in their injuries, their blood, their defeated expressions. No soldiers under his command should look like this.

“Get some sleep, brothers,” he said. “They have not claimed victory yet.”

The men broke off into smaller groups and settled in amongst the trees as the sun slid below the horizon to end their worst day. Reardon, however, went off on his own into the darkness. When he believed himself to be far enough away from the others, he glanced around and stripped off his clothes.

The change came so easily to him now. He’d lived with the ability for years and it was second nature. As normal as his heart beating, his lungs breathing, his eyes blinking. He didn’t have to think about it. In the early years, the transformation had been painful and scary. Today, it was neither of those. He simply closed his eyes and pictured his other form.

His wolf form.

Soon he was running on four huge paws, his fur as black as the night. His keen green-gold eyes saw everything from the tiniest waver in the leaves hanging from their branches to the miniscule insects crawling over tree bark. He smelled the moist earth, the other night creatures hiding in the dark, and sadly, the blood of his lost men, slain under his command.

Reardon wasn’t accustomed to feeling guilt. Victory did not bring on such an emotion. His men never appeared to regret their decision to join him because who would lament when the prizes were so vast, the glory so encompassing, the lasses so willing to please men who fought bravely? No one. He’d made legends of his men and himself. Every man wanted that.

Today had shown him the other side of the coin, however. He’d been responsible for losing a large part of his ranks by accepting this contract with the Spanish king. Right now, too many of his loyal soldiers lay in pools of their own blood, motionless, never to take another breath again. No more glory would come upon those men.

And who would mourn them? Only Reardon and the surviving men would, for each had turned their backs on their families, choosing fighting, fame, and riches over love. Reardon had his brother, his cousins, and a few of the other men who were kin in some way, but that wasn’t the same as true family—one that started with the soft curves of a woman and grew with heirs.

This army was the most family these men were going to get. The time had come to make their bond tighter, more powerful, and less susceptible to defeat. Reardon knew of only one way to do that.

He stopped running and meandered back toward where his men slumbered. Sniffing around until he found a patch of muddy earth, he pressed his front paw into the wet dirt. When he retracted the paw, a perfect print was left behind.

Reardon shifted back to human form in the shadows of the trees and quickly dressed. His armor was dented too, his garments torn and bloody.

That will only make us look fiercer in our new incarnation.

He took a cask to the river and filled it. After coming back to the paw print, he filled it with water and squeezed a few drops of his own blood from the nearly healed slash on his forearm into it. He mixed it with his index finger and chanted words, hoping they would achieve the desired result. He’d never done this before. He wasn’t sure anyone had done this before.

Canis faelad, wolf soldier. Brothers of the pack. Bound by blood and the full moon’s silver light. Enter the beasts, behold the power, harness the strength. Canis faelad, wolf soldier.

He drew the water back into the cask, held it up so the moonlight embraced it, and set about offering each of his four closest, fiercest men a drink. When the moon reached its zenith in the black curtain of the night sky, he’d have the champions he needed.

****

Reardon rolled to his back, a sharp rock jutting into his spine. He shifted to sitting and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. A glance around the darkness found his men sleeping on the forest floor as he had been. His keen vision could make out their shadowy forms scattered about, and his exceptional hearing detected those that were in pain. He heard each quiet moan on inhales, each strained groan on exhales. Clenching his teeth, he peered up at the full moon, the great white eye staring down at him.

Judging.

Disapproving.

Chastising.

“I had no choice,” he whispered.

Still the moon drilled her light straight into him.

Reardon grunted and lowered back to the ground. He shifted to his side, aiming to catch a few more hours of sleep, but an agonized cry ripped through the night, and he launched to his feet. Sure the Spanish king’s enemies were upon them, he drew his sword and scanned the area with his enhanced sight.

No opponents crashed through the brush.

Another wail of pain rose up, followed by another, another.

When the forest immediately surrounding him was full of strangled screams, Reardon knew what was happening.

“Forgive me, brothers.” He’d made the right decision though. It was the only way his army could continue its reign of success. This was the power boost they needed. The four men in charge just below him would recognize that simple fact. They’d thank him for what he’d done to them. Their loyalty would increase tenfold.

I will be even more powerful as a leader with these warrior werewolves carrying out my orders. My glory will know no bounds.

“What is happening?” Kole asked from Reardon’s left. His voice was more a raspy growl than human.

“My body hurts... everywhere.” Shawn was on all fours, his breathing labored.

Jaemus stumbled to his feet, his arms wrapped around his mid-section as if trying to hold himself together. His brother’s golden brown eyes met Reardon’s with instant understanding.

Of course Jaemus would know.

Reardon’s brother was only a year younger and knew of the ceremony—the rite of passage all Seventh Sons born under the December full moon underwent. Jaemus had been lucky not to be that son, but the look in his golden brown eyes now told Reardon his brother knew his luck had run out.

“What have you done, Reardon?” Jaemus took a few unsteady steps toward Reardon then fell to his knees, cradling his head in his hands. “What have you done?”

Reardon sheathed his sword. “As leader of this army, I did what needed to be done.”

“You’ve damned all four of us.” Jaemus pitched forward, his forearms pressing to the ground as he writhed in pain.

“What is he talking about, Reardon?” Kole supported himself on a nearby tree, his hands clawing into the rough bark and his teeth clenched.

“Don’t be afraid, lads.” Reardon knew he had to take control quickly, or after their first change these men would be tearing each other apart. They had to save that fight for the Spanish king’s enemies so they could collect their payment and be on their way to their next contract. “Relax yourselves. Let the change happen.”

“Change?” Erik swiped his hand across his sweaty forehead, his skin a dull shade of gray. “What change?”

“I’ve given you four a rare ability—an ability that will make us unbeatable.” Yes, he’d given them a... a gift. Only he’d never considered being able to transform into a wolf a gift. It was unnatural. A man should be a man. A wolf, a wolf. The two should never have been able to coexist within one body.

And now he’d passed this on to his most trusted soldiers. His loyal comrades. His brethren—the only brethren he knew. All in the name of wealth and glory.

More tormented cries rose up, filling the night, tearing at Reardon’s soul. The noise was too much to take. He cupped his hands over his sensitive ears, trying desperately to muffle the tortured sounds, but they echoed in his head just the same. His first shift had been the epitome of suffering, but that was nothing compared to watching his faithful men twist in agony, cry out in pain as their bones cracked and reformed. Faces elongated, backs arched, hands and feet became massive paws with sharp claws. Bright white, razor-sharp teeth glowed in the moonlight and eyes flared like candle flames.

By the time the metamorphosis was complete, a pack of four large, muscular wolves stood before Reardon. The rest of the army—still human—looked on in shocked silence, almost as if they were waiting to be torn to shreds.

Reardon was about to shift to defend himself against the newly turned wolves, but a moment later, in one unified motion, all four of them lowered their heads to the ground in a show of submission. Silence permeated the forest. No more cries of pain. No more questions. No more accusing glares. Just an allegiance as strong as any blood bond. The human soldiers, as if in a trance, bowed as well just behind the line of wolves.

One word flashed in Reardon’s mind.

One word erased the overwhelming guilt that had threatened to consume him only seconds ago.

One word united his new army.

Alpha.

They recognized him as the leader of this newly formed pack and something swelled in Reardon’s chest. All this time he’d been alone in his ability to shift. A man and yet not a man. Now part of his army was exactly like him.

A large silver-furred wolf was the first to raise its head and approach Reardon. The golden brown eyes were unmistakable.

“Jaemus.” Reardon reached out a tentative hand and breathed a sigh of relief when the wolf nosed his fingers.

His men were still his men despite the choice he’d made without their consent.

“We still have a contract to fulfill,” he said. “What say you?”

At their howls of agreement, Reardon partially shifted. His legs, arms, and torso were that of a man, but his head had become a wolf’s, with teeth thirsting for enemy blood. His fingernails had lengthened to deadly claws perfect for gutting a man.

Around him, Jaemus, Kole, Shawn, and Erik shifted in the same manner and picked up their swords and shields as did what remained of his human soldiers. One glance at them and Reardon knew they had become an invincible fighting force. The image of them alone was enough to send men running.

And men running made perfect prey for wolves.

With a roar, Reardon led his army out of the forest and to the river. They crossed easily in the dark night with their enhanced vision. Even the human soldiers appeared to be enhanced though they had not been changed by the rite. When they reached the enemy camp, most of the soldiers were asleep, their weapons close by.

But not close enough.

The descent upon the lambs was flawless. Brutal. Primal.

By the time dawn came, only one army was still standing.

****

“You’ve done well. I knew I could trust your skills.” The Spanish king accepted the sword of the slain enemy chief from Reardon with a grin of approval. “We never would have succeeded without your assistance.”

“It is our calling.” Reardon bowed his head, accepting the king’s praise. He and his men had left no survivors, so any reports of wolfmen attacking died on the battlefield. His own human soldiers hadn’t cared how they’d won. They just wanted their riches. Reardon’s secret weapon was still secret.

“Allow me to deliver the agreed upon compensation for your services.” The king motioned to ten servants nearby who scurried forth, pairs of them toting large, ornately decorated chests which they set at Reardon’s feet. The vessels themselves would fetch a high price regardless of the wealth they contained. “I hope you find this satisfactory.”

Reardon lowered to one knee as Jaemus, Kole, Shawn, and Erik moved in closer behind him. He lifted the lid of one of the chests, his eyes drinking in the sight of gold and jewels heaped high—their largest bounty yet. In all his thirty-eight years, Reardon had never seen so much treasure in one spot.

“Aye, this will do quite nicely,” he said to the king. “You know how to find us should you require our services in the future.”

“I do, and thank you.” It was the king’s turn to bow his head to Reardon and his four most trusted soldiers.

Each of the men easily hefted one of the chests—increased strength among their new abilities—and followed Reardon out of the palace. They doled out the earnings fairly then headed for the ships, the sweet shores of Ireland awaiting their homecoming. When the journey was complete, the first stop was at the nearest tavern where much of the riches were spent on food and drink.

Mostly drink.

The only problem, however, was the thirsts of the men who had been changed didn’t appear to lessen as the drinks were consumed. In fact, throats burned. Mouths remained parched even after jugs and jugs where tossed back. Kole and Shawn attempted to distract from their thirst by eating the juicy legs of lamb the tavern was famous for serving, but their hunger was insatiable.

Frustrated by this strange development, the four men grew agitated, belligerent, aggressive. The owner of the tavern, usually a friend happy to see Reardon’s army, suggested they leave. When the tavernkeeper’s request was met with saliva-ridden snarls, Reardon stood and took control.

“Lads, we have spent enough time here.” He scratched at his left ear where the tip was missing, sliced away in battle a few years ago. “Let us get some fresh air into our lungs.”

At the sound of his voice—their Alpha’s voice—the men abandoned their empty mugs and half-eaten meals and preceded him out of the tavern. Reardon sent the tavernkeeper an apologetic glance before stepping out into the warm night. He led the men to the shore where their ships still bobbed.

“My skin feels wrong,” Kole said, scratching at the back of his neck as he walked.

His brother, Shawn, nodded. “As if it can no longer contain my insides.”

Erik grunted his agreement, and Reardon regarded his comrades, guilt tiptoeing back to him, squashing the high of victory he’d been enjoying.

“It is the change, my friends,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?” Kole asked.

“He means your intellect is no longer in control.” Jaemus folded his arms across his chest. “Our wolf selves are closer to the surface. Our needs are more feral. We are part animal now.”

Reardon didn’t miss the glare in his brother’s eyes. Of all the men, Jaemus had been the least vocal since their alteration. Reardon knew for a fact that a quiet Jaemus was an angry Jaemus. As youngsters, whenever he and Jaemus had a brothers’ spat, Jaemus would always stalk off to be by himself before seeking Reardon out again to unleash his fury. Being the older, larger brother, Reardon had always been able to handle Jaemus.

The expression on his brother’s face right now, however, represented untamed fury, volatile and abundant.

“Riches, drink, food,” Jaemus continued through teeth already lengthening, “are not enough anymore. We crave other things now.”

“What other things?” Shawn asked as he raked his clawed fingers through his wild hair.

“Flesh.” When Reardon had shifted that first time after the ceremony, his father had been ready with a freshly slaughtered cow. He’d greedily torn meat from bone, not quite able to get his fill. Over time, though, his hunger had lessened and he’d learned to control himself. He’d show his men how to do the same.

“We trusted you, Reardon,” Kole said around a low growl.

Guilt was done tiptoeing. It now marched directly over Reardon and punched him. Repeatedly. Kole was right. His men had always trusted him not only to find the lucrative contracts, but to protect them both on and off the battlefield.

And he’d betrayed that trust by making one decision. He’d like to think it wasn’t a selfish decision, but hadn’t he been angry about possible surrender? Hadn’t his pride been poked with sword tips? Hadn’t he acted only to preserve their record of victory, their fame?

All egotistical reasons for what he’d done.

“You can control your wolf sides,” he said.

“We shouldn’t have wolf sides,” Jaemus said. “You’ve set us on a path to Hell.”

Reardon clenched his teeth, a sudden spark of fury awakening his own wolf. “What happened to the loyalty in battle you all displayed in Spain?” They had been willing to accept him as their Alpha. They’d heeded his suggestion to leave the tavern only moments ago. Why the sudden change?

“Wolfmen make sense in the heat of the fight,” Erik said. “When we don’t have swords in our hands and enemies in range, we are no more than savages.”

Reardon marched up to Erik, a vein in his neck pulsing as his anger grew. “We were already savages, Erik. Think about what we do.” He stepped back and threw his arms out to encompass the gathered men. “We kill for profit. We fight simply because kings tell us to and can pay us handsomely. Then we are able to close our eyes at night and sleep as if we hadn’t taken human lives. If that is not savage, I don’t know what is. I merely gave you extra weapons to do the work we do. Claws, teeth, animal instincts. You are better soldiers because of what I’ve done.”

It was a good speech, but not one Reardon entirely believed. True, he’d given these men something, but was it something they’d wanted? No. He hadn’t wanted it when he was a boy crossing the threshold to manhood.

Or wolfhood as it were.

“Can’t you take what you’ve done back?” Kole asked. “Undo it.”

Reardon shook his head. “I’m afraid once the transformation has occurred, it can’t be undone.”

“So we are destined to be like this for the rest of our lives?” Kole rubbed his temples as if an ached plagued him there. Headaches were common in the beginning. Reardon’s headaches had sent him deep into the woods in search of dark places to recover after he’d first changed.

He opened his mouth to reply, but a near-blinding flash of light caused all of them to shield their faces.

A moment later, a powerful female voice echoed through the night. “Reardon McAlator, your gift was not yours to share like this.”

Despite the incredible strength resonating in the voice, Reardon fisted his hands by his sides and yelled, “Gift? More like a curse!”

Another bolt of light crashed down among the men, causing the human soldiers to flee.

“Now you question me? I am Flidae, goddess of wild things, and you’ve made a grave mistake, wolf!”

Chapter Two

“C’mon, girl.” Wildlife biologist Dr. Brandy Wendon wiggled cubes of meat at the opening of the cage. The door was wide open and a beautiful female wolf was pressed to the back of it, wary golden eyes watching Brandy’s every move. “You can trust me, sweetheart. I won’t hurt you.”

Since the opening of Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary seven years ago, Brandy had collected a pack of fifteen wolves which she cared for, observed, and studied with an undying fascination. The sanctuary sat on six hundred acres of remote woods in Canville, Vermont where the wolves—most in residence due to injury or illness—could roam and live in a natural yet monitored setting.

Brandy loved every single day. How many people could say that about their work? Not many, and she knew it. This life of hers was a dream.

Well, the working with wolves part anyway. Other areas of her life didn’t always go as planned, but she’d learned to roll with the punches.

“Mom!” Ten-year old Dylan came barreling into the kennel, which meant it was about 3:30 in the afternoon. Where did the time go each day? Hadn’t she just put him on the school bus?

“Over here.” She put the meat pieces into a container and stood so Dylan could find her among the rows of kennels. This main facility on the sanctuary housed a veterinary services clinic, the kennels, a classroom, a library Brandy’s mother, Meredith, a retired librarian, oversaw, a research lab, and a viewing room with a big window out into the woods so children on field trips to the sanctuary could catch a glimpse of these gorgeous wolves.

“Guess what?” Dylan dropped his backpack and weaved his way over to her.

As Brandy watched the boy, her heart squeezed in her chest the way it always did when she remembered her twin sister, Diane—the one who’d actually given birth to Dylan. The one who had died due to complications during labor. The one who had dreamed up this sanctuary idea with Brandy when they were in college. The one who should be running the place with her now.

“What, baby?” Brandy ruffled Dylan’s blond hair when he reached her. The boy knew Brandy was actually his aunt, but she was also the only mother he’d ever known and the title Mom had come naturally. Though she missed her twin sister terribly, she loved having Dylan in her life, loved caring for him along with her wolves. Without him and her mother, living in the log cabin house on the sanctuary’s property would be quiet... and lonely.

“You owe me a new comic book because I got an A+ on my science report!” The smile on Dylan’s face lit up the room. “You were right. A project on animal communication totally got Mrs. Gruper’s attention.”

“I am right now and then, and there’s a new comic book already on your desk in your bedroom.”

Dylan pumped a fist in the air, his smile growing even more luminous. The kid ate comic books in his spare time and would do anything to get new ones—even put extra effort into a science report.

Brandy dropped a kiss on Dylan’s forehead and warmed when the boy threw his arms around her waist for a hug. At ten, he’d probably be putting the brakes on hugging her pretty soon so she relished every embrace, just in case. She had no other source of hugs at the moment. She’d tried to find a source a few times, but her luck in the man department was... non-existent. Either she was terrible at sniffing out jerks or the world was filled with jerks. Her research into that matter was inconclusive.

Dylan turned in her arms to face the kennel and the wolf still cowering at the back of it, her ears flat, her eyes darting around the room. “How is Nymph?”

“We should have named her Stubborn.” Brandy sighed. “She doesn’t even want to come out for this meat.”

“Maybe she wants barbecue sauce on it.” Dylan giggled as Brandy poked him in the ribs.

“Wise guy.” She closed Nymph’s kennel, planning to try again in about an hour. This particular wolf had come to her from Michigan with a serious intestinal infection. Brandy and her partner at the sanctuary, veterinarian Dr. Parker Daniels—one of the few non-jerk men she’d met—had taken care of that issue, but getting this gorgeous lady to eat was still a challenge. If they could get her to do that, she’d be able to actually return to the wild at some point. Most of the wolves had come to Brandy with injuries or conditions too serious to allow reintroduction, but Nymph didn’t fall into that category.

She fell into the anxious-as-hell category.

“Where’s Gram?” Dylan asked.

“Most likely waiting for you in the library with some delicious snack.” Brandy gestured to the clinic wall adjacent to the sanctuary’s library where Meredith held story hours on a regular basis, did wolf-themed crafts with school groups, and assisted wildlife biology college majors hunting for research materials.

“I hope the snack is brownies.” Dylan grabbed his backpack.

“Is it ever brownies?”

Dylan shook his head. “Probably carrot sticks or apple slices.”

Meredith was famous for trying to get them all to eat healthier. Not that the Wendons made a habit of binging on junk food, but both Dylan and Brandy—and Diane—had an intense love of sweets.

“Gram just wants you to grow up to be strong and fit.” Brandy pointed down to Dylan’s sneaker which was untied per usual.

He kneeled to tie it. “So I can run around the woods with these wolves all day.”

“Exactly.” She loved that Dylan had such an interest in wolves. She had no doubt he’d keep the sanctuary going when she no longer could. Diane would be so proud of him.

Dylan stood and walked to the door that led to the library next door. “See you later, Mom.”

She waved, but he was already through the door in search of his grandmother. Brandy turned back to Nymph. “Okay, you get another forty-five minutes to hang out and then this meat is getting inside you, lady.” She wagged a finger at the petite brown wolf then grabbed the bin containing more meat pieces. This girl may not be interested, but fourteen other wolves at the sanctuary would jump at the chance to feed.

Pushing open the door, she headed outside. Five wolves immediately greeted her, knowing exactly what she had in the bin.

“Okay, okay,” she said. “Let’s remember our manners, shall we?”

Albi, Bele, and Nuno, three of the gray wolves at the sanctuary, pushed their noses into the bin while Lug, a brown wolf, and Dragon, a black one, sat on their haunches, perfectly willing to wait their turn... as long as their turn came quickly.

She tossed meat out to the hungry wolves then wandered a little deeper into the woods until she found Sirona and Arawn, the other two black wolves, perched on a rocky outcropping. They picked their way down the hill to retrieve the meat cubes she left for them. Those two were inseparable and even though Arawn was missing a front right paw, that didn’t keep him from following Sirona everywhere.

I wouldn’t mind an attractive male following me everywhere.

But the only male that hung around the sanctuary was Parker. He and Brandy had gone to college together and had tried the whole relationship thing. It hadn’t been a love connection. Not the one either of them had been hoping for anyway. They’d connected in about a million other ways—both were wildlife biology majors—but a heat did not exist between them, and they’d each decided that was fine.

They’d gone into business together instead with Parker joining the sanctuary staff as a consulting veterinarian. He’d seen to the conditions of each wolf at Silver Moon and checked in on them on a regular basis. He also taught a college class and used the sanctuary as a practicum location for his budding wildlife biologists so they could get some hands-on experience with live animals in need of real care.

She loved having Parker around. He was a great friend, an excellent vet, and a wonderful role model for Dylan, who Brandy often worried was missing out by not having a father in the picture. Parker filled the vacancy nicely by giving Dylan attention. He’d taken him camping, let him assist when examining recuperating wolves, and hosted science-fiction/fantasy movie nights on a regular basis. Just last weekend, they’d done a Star Wars marathon and the opening music had been stuck in Brandy’s head ever since. Parker also fed Dylan’s comic book addiction with his collection of Marvel and DC comics which he let the boy drool over every now and again.

Things were good. They really were. Sure, Brandy hadn’t had an adult relationship in a long, long time, but she was filling her life with experiences that were just as meaningful, just as fulfilling. Being a mom to her sister’s son had been an unexpected situation, but she loved Dylan as if she’d given birth to him herself. She couldn’t imagine her life without him in it.

She could, however, imagine someone of the tall, dark, and handsome variety in her life.

“Keep dreaming, sister.”

She portioned out the rest of the meat and watched for a few silent moments as the last group of wolves tore into their dinner. Brandy loved being with the wolves. Her connection to them was something tangible. She actually preferred their company over most humans.

When he’d finished his meal, Lug wandered over to her and pushed his big head into her kneecap.

“What’s up, boy?” She reached down and scratched at the wolf’s ears. Dylan had named him Lug, as in you big lug, because the wolf was clumsy but super affectionate. He had the sweetest disposition, especially for a wolf that had nearly died on the exam table about two years ago.

A farmer in Idaho had caught Lug scoping out his cattle and hadn’t thought twice about yanking out his shotgun and drilling the wolf full of bullets. Miraculously, Lug had not been killed by the onslaught, but he was in rough shape. A small conservation group in the area had contacted Brandy and she and Parker flew out to assess the wolf’s condition. By the grace of Mother Nature, they’d been able to remove all the bullets and Lug’s will to live had been strong.

When they’d come back to the sanctuary with him, Dylan had taken one look at the goofy wolf and dubbed him Lug. Brandy swore the wolf had healed faster thanks to Dylan’s friendship, corny as that sounded.

“Did you enjoy your dinner, boy?” She gave Lug a few more minutes of petting and laughed when he took the end of her T-shirt between his teeth and gently tugged. “Want me down at your level?” She crouched and Lug instantly got to his back on the ground, exposing his belly for a rub. Sometimes Brandy wondered if the wolf wasn’t more dog than anything else. The interesting thing about Lug was she’d tried to release him back into the true wild, three times, but he wouldn’t go. He ran after her SUV every time they’d attempted to let him go.

“He knows he’s got a good thing at the sanctuary,” Parker had said.

Though her mission was to keep wolf numbers up in the wild, Lug had wormed his way into her heart and Dylan loved him too. After the third failed attempt to release, she’d decided to keep him. He repaid her by keeping an eye on the rest of the pack. It was a good deal.

“Okay, boy.” She patted Lug one final time and rose to standing. “I have to try feeding Nymph once more. Want to come?”

As if understanding, Lug fell into step beside her as she navigated through the woods back toward the main facility. Meredith and Dylan came out the library door and Lug immediately jogged toward Dylan.

“Everyone all fed?” Meredith gestured to the bin Brandy carried.

Brandy pointed to the kennel windows. “All but one.”

“Ah, Nymph still resisting?”

“Yup.”

“Maybe she wants barbecue sauce on her chicken,” Meredith said.

Dylan burst into laughter. “Oh, Gram! I said the same thing.”

“Did you now? Well, clearly you are a comedian like your dear old granny.” She hooked her arm around Dylan’s shoulders and squished him against her until the boy squirmed.

“Don’t quit your day jobs. Either of you.” Brandy pointed at each of them then led everyone inside the kennel area.

Lug trotted over to Nymph’s cage and sniffed around her with curiosity. Nymph hadn’t interacted with many of the wolves yet because she wouldn’t leave her cage, but Lug had been in a few times to check her out, as was his duty as self-designated supervisor. Nymph wasn’t overly friendly to him, but she didn’t shy away either. Her nosed raised, she at least explored his scent without the wariness she showed almost everyone else.

“I think Lug has a crush on her,” Meredith said.

Dylan crouched beside Lug by the cage. “Do wolves get crushes, Mom?”

“Umm...” She could definitely give him a lesson in the mating habits of wolves, but she had hoped to wait on that conversation a little bit longer.

Meredith snickered. “Everybody gets crushes. Love is what makes this planet spin, boy.”

Dylan’s brows furrowed over his blue eyes as he chewed on that for a few moments. He always considered new information carefully before accepting it. Brandy was sure he’d be an amazing scientist when he grew up, and while she was eager to see him become one, she also didn’t want this time—this little boy who still needed her time—to pass too quickly.

“Maybe Lug can get her to eat then.” Dylan got to his feet and opened Nymph’s cage.

As usual, she moved to the back, her wide eyes never leaving Dylan as he went to the bin and lifted out a large piece of meat. With a click of his tongue, he called Lug to come to him. The wolf lumbered over, his nose working overtime and his long, pink tongue licking his mouth in anticipation of an additional meal.

“Sit, boy.” Dylan held the meat out of reach as Lug dropped his back end in a sloppy sit. He wasn’t a dog after all, but for some reason, Dylan had managed to teach the wolf a few commands. “Good boy.”

After a solid head rubbing, Dylan put the meat on the floor between Lug and Nymph’s open cage. Lug eyed the meat, but didn’t budge because Dylan hadn’t told him to.

Brandy was overjoyed that Dylan had such a scientific approach to solving problems at the sanctuary. She loved watching him interact with the wolves and couldn’t wait to see what contributions he’d make to the world of wildlife biology.

“Look at how much Lug wants that meat, Nymph,” Dylan said in a soft, soothing voice. “He knows it’s so tasty.” He glanced back at Meredith and Brandy with a little smirk. “Even without barbecue sauce.”

Brandy nudged him with the tip of her boot. “Funny man.”

He turned his attention back to the wolves. “C’mon, Nymph. If you eat this, you’ll feel better and can run around outside with Lug and me.” He threw an arm around Lug who licked his cheek. “Wouldn’t that be fun, girl?”

Dylan nudged the meat a little closer to Nymph’s cage, and Brandy gasped softly when the wolf’s front paw crept forward. Meredith clamped a hand on Brandy’s forearm and the two of them shared a look of disbelief.

“That’s it, Nymph,” Dylan continued. “Come check it out. I’ll bet you’re hungry.” Again, he slid the meat closer.

Again, Nymph edged toward it.

Lug offered a quiet snuffle of encouragement and right before Brandy’s eyes, Nymph stuck her head out of the cage and sniffed the meat.

No one moved.

No one talked.

No one breathed.

In four quick bites, Nymph literally wolfed down the meat. When she was done, she tilted her head as a large German shepherd might do and gave Lug a good once-over. Apparently deeming him not dangerous, she came out of the cage, sat beside him, and pushed her nose into his ear in a greeting.

Like a perfect gentleman, Lug stayed completely still as Nymph sniffed and inspected, judged and assessed. When she eased into a lie down position, Lug did the same and the two wolves looked at Dylan as if to say, “Okay, now what?”

Dylan whispered while barely moving, “Do you have any treats on you, Mom?”

Brandy dug in the pocket of her cargo shorts where treats could always be found and slowly handed him a few.

“What nice wolves,” he crooned as he held out both his hands, one to each wolf, with treats in his palm.

Lug snatched his treats and crunched noisily, while Nymph took a more gentle, polite approach.

“Amazing,” Meredith whispered. “The kid’s got a gift.”

“What he’s got is superior DNA.” Brandy elbowed Meredith.

“Nothing but truth in those words, honey.”

“I think this answers my question about wolf crushes,” Dylan said. “They fell in love like that.” He snapped his fingers.

Brandy sighed. If only it were that easy for the rest of us.

****

“Everything sounds great in there now.” Parker draped his stethoscope around his neck and felt around Midir’s abdomen. The brown female wolf had come to Silver Moon about three months ago with a punctured lung from an arrow that another veterinarian had tended to. The wound had appeared to heal nicely, but Midir had continued to wheeze and had very low energy. Parker soon figured out a piece of arrow was still in her lung. He’d performed surgery and Midir’s breathing had improved along with her liveliness. She’d even raced with Saita, the sanctuary’s fastest gray wolf.

“Your amazing veterinary skills continue to dazzle, Dr. Daniels.” Brandy applauded.

“Thank you, thank you.” Parker held up his hands, his gaze dropping humbly to his feet. “Please, if you’ll all form a line, I’ll be happy to autograph your breasts. Who has a Sharpie?”

Brandy shoved him. “Why is it that I continue to hang out with delusional people?”

“Because we’re fun.” He ran his hands over Midir and rubbed her until a low, purring noise rumbled in her throat. “Yes, you like that, don’t you, pretty girl? Yes, you do.”

Midir licked Parker’s fingers when he stopped, earning her a few more pats before he guided her off the exam table. He shed his gloves, washed his hands, and turned to Brandy, his mouth opened to say something, but his phone rang in his pocket. Holding up a finger, he dug around for the phone.

“It’s Chella.”

Of course it is. Brandy clenched her teeth then released her jaw, reminding herself that she didn’t care if Parker chose to date a self-absorbed, money-hungry fashionista who didn’t think saving wolves was important. Not her concern. Her buddy seemed truly happy and that was all that mattered. Still, she had to tell herself this often because it never stuck. What did he see in her?

“Hey, baby,” he said after tapping the screen.

Brandy wandered to the other end of the clinic to give him some privacy and spare herself from witnessing the inevitable mushiness. Parker was a hopeless romantic and had no shame when it came to professing his feelings. It could be adorable. It could also make Brandy dry heave.

She busied herself with inventorying supplies, but bits of conversation drifted her way.

No, I love you more.

Yes, I do.

What’s better than wonderful? Because you’re more than wonderful.

I can’t stop thinking about that thing you did last night.

Brandy started humming “The Star-Spangled Banner.” She did not want to overhear anything about what Parker and Chella did last night. Especially when all she’d done was bake a chocolate cake with Dylan and devour a good portion of it until Meredith had walked in the kitchen, gasped, and shook her head disapprovingly at the two of them. The cake had been great. Spending time joking around with Dylan had been awesome. Even trying to convince her mother to have some cake had been entertaining.

It was after the cake had been put away, the kitchen cleaned, and the son tucked in that her Friday night had taken a turn for the worse. At thirty-five years old, Brandy should not have been in her pajamas and neck deep in research by eight o’clock. Research on clinical lycanthropy no less. A completely absurd, barely medical condition in which a person believes himself or herself to be an animal. Brandy couldn’t help herself though. Something about the crazy topic fascinated her. She had inhaled every bit of information on clinical lycanthropy she could find over the years. All in secret of course. If Parker ever discovered this little obsession, he’d think she’d gone mad. She could probably kiss goodbye the association the sanctuary had with the university he taught at, too, if anyone there found out. She’d be better off admitting she bought supermarket tabloids and read them cover to cover.

No. Some things were meant to go to the grave with her. This was one of those things.

“Hey, B?” Parker’s voice stirred her out of reviewing her pathetic Friday night.

“Yeah?” She turned to face him.

He still had the phone to his ear. “Chella’s cousin, Marshall, just moved to Canville, and she thinks he might be a good match for you.”

Ugh.

“Oh, Park, I don’t—” She stopped when he held up his hand.

“C’mon. We’ll double. It won’t be awkward. I promise.”

“Liar.” And why did Chella want to set her up? The two of them weren’t exactly besties. What was wrong with this Marshall guy?

Parker laughed. “When have you known me to lie, B?”

Like never. Damn.

Meredith came into the clinic, and Brandy panicked. If her mother knew what was being proposed, she’d be all over it. She wanted Brandy to find a man more than Brandy did.

“Mom, I think Dylan was looking for you back at the house.” She grabbed Meredith by the shoulders and spun her around back toward the door.

“I was just with him. He’s in the library helping me plan next week’s story hours.” Meredith’s brows lowered as she looked at Brandy then at Parker and back to Brandy.

Parker marched over and Brandy stepped into his path.

“Don’t. I beg you.” She met his kind, brown gaze and knew he was only trying to help. He was good like that.

But seriously. Meredith did not need to know about this offer.

“Are you trying to set her up, Parker?” Her mother nudged her out of the way.

“How did you...” Brandy was always amazed by her mother’s intuitive powers.

“Why, yes, Meredith, I am.” Parker shot her a grin. “Don’t you think it would be a great idea for Brandy to come out with me, Chella, and Marshall?”

“That depends on who Marshall is.”

Good old Mom. Always carefully protecting her brood even if she was nosey about their love lives.

Or lack thereof.

“Marshall is Chella’s cousin,” Parker said.

“What’s wrong with him?” Meredith put her hands on her hips in a move Brandy had seen her use successfully on those less than cooperative field trip visitors.

“Wrong with him?” Parker listened for a minute as Chella no doubt gave him a list of all the ways this Marshall dude was perfect.

Yeah, so perfect he needed to be set up on a blind date.

Brandy smacked a hand to her forehead when she realized Parker—and Chella—thought she needed to be set up on a blind date.

“Chella says there’s nothing wrong with him. He’s just new here and doesn’t know anyone,” Parker said.

“What does he do for work?” Meredith had shifted into interview mode.

Parker relayed the question then said, “Computer programmer.”

“Hmm.” Meredith puckered her lips. “Maybe he’d be a better fit for Sheyanne over at the town hall? You know, the cute data assistant with the long blonde hair.”

Parker shook his head. “No, Chella says Marshall likes redheads.” He winked at Brandy who suddenly wished she’d chosen to dye her hair black this morning.

“Well, that settles it then.” Meredith turned to Brandy. “What have you got to lose, sweetie? I’ll watch Dylan tonight. Have fun.”

With that, she gave Parker a wave and left the clinic.

“What do you say, B?” He gave her hopeful eyes.

And because she didn’t have a good answer to the what-have-you-got-to-lose question, she nodded.

Barely.

Smiling, Parker grabbed her shoulder and shook her as he told Chella it was on. He walked away to iron out the where and when details while Brandy kneeled before Midir who had been nosing around the clinic.

“If ever there was a time you wolves wanted to revolt, drag me deep into the woods, and leave me for dead, this would be the day to do it.” She nuzzled Midir’s neck, knowing full well being torn apart by wolves would be better than a blind date.

She’d attempt to be optimistic. Maybe Marshall would turn out to be her soul mate.

If such a thing existed.

Chapter Three

With another snap of lightning, a raven-haired woman appeared, a foggy mist surrounding her as she approached Reardon and his men. The mist dissipated by the time she stood in front of them. Leafy garland was woven into her black tresses, and her dress was made of layered ferns. Her skin was luminescent, shimmering with a soft, ethereal glow, but her eyes were a fiery violet, all too ready to cut into Reardon.

She was as beautiful as she was frightening.

One by one, Reardon’s men shifted into complete wolf form. Sometimes fear and other extreme emotions could bring on the change. Reardon could barely swallow as he fought to remain in human form.

“You do not consider the ability I’ve bestowed upon you a gift, Seventh Son?” Her voice was musical, but it made Reardon’s skin prickle all the same.

He bowed before her. “My apologies, fair goddess.”

An invisible force ripped Reardon out of his bow. His body was not under his control as his head was wrenched up to look at her.

“Your apologies are not enough, wolf. You have shared your gift in a manner it was not meant to be shared. You have used your gift to kill. You have insulted me.”

“I didn’t intend—”

“To kill?” Flidae’s eyes flared brighter, her beautiful face transforming into something Reardon was certain he’d have nightmares about for the rest of his life... however long that might be. She rose to a height that towered over all of them. At a height that towered over most men and a body full of muscle, Reardon never felt small.

He did right now.

Thick, black clouds formed overhead. When another flash of lightning lit up the shores, rain fell, beating against Reardon and his men.

“You most certainly did intend to kill, McAlator. You forget I can see into the souls of all wild things. As part wolf, you are part wild thing.” Flidae hovered above them, her hair swirling around her like thick, black rope—rope ready to hang Reardon and his men who were still in wolf form, their noses to the ground in submission.“Your intentions are as clear to me as they are to you. You purposely turned your comrades, not only without my consent, but without theirs as well. You let your thirst for fame and riches take control. You feared losing in battle and took a coward’s course of action.”

Reardon wanted to disagree, to yell back in defense, to deny all Flidae had said, but he couldn’t. She spoke the truth, and he hated himself as soft whines emanated from his four closest men.

Flidae floated above him and he wondered what she was doing to his wolves.

“Your wolves?” She let out an echoing laugh that hurt Reardon’s head. He hated how easily she could read his thoughts. “Do not make yourself out to be more important than you are, wolf. You are mine, and as such, any wolves you make are also mine. Do you know what this means?”

Reardon shook his head, trying too hard not to shift under the pressure of her power to answer with actual words. The rain was like spear tips against his skin, and he couldn’t stop the shiver the cold wetness caused.

“It means I decide how to punish you for your transgressions.”

In the blink of an eye, Flidae shrank to a petite woman’s size. Unaffected by the rain, she slinked up to Reardon, and he had to look down to meet her simmering gaze. Her form was harmless, but he was not fool enough to believe she couldn’t strike him down where he stood. Part of him believed she meant to do just that.

“It is my job to protect wild things, Reardon McAlator. Whether you know it or not, I’ve protected you since the day you came into this world. As a Seventh Son born on a December full moon, you were bestowed with a gift I do not give out carelessly. My decision was carefully made, matching your soul to this body and this gift.” She gestured to him then to the wolves writhing on the muddy ground at their feet. “And you chose not to honor my decision.”

“Then why give me the power to transform others if it was not your will for me to do so?” He knew he was pressing his luck by questioning her again, but his moments left to live were probably few anyway. What did it matter now?

Flidae narrowed her eyes at him. “That power was to be used for one purpose and one purpose only.”

“What purpose is that?”

“To change your soul mate should she want to be like you.”

Reardon nearly laughed in her face. Soul mate? As if he’d even considered finding one with the life he lived. No lass would accept a man like him who killed for money and roamed the lands in search of battle. He didn’t plan to settle down and churn out heirs, especially if he could potentially father a Seventh Son like himself and put the child in a situation even remotely like the one he found himself in now.

Besides, he wasn’t worthy of a lass’s love. Not with the blood he had on his hands.

“Not true, wolf. Not true at all.” Flidae smiled. “You might think you are not worthy, but the right lass can see the things you don’t know about yourself, the things you don’t allow yourself to see, the things that might redeem you.”

She threw her hands over her head, and Reardon cursed himself for flinching as if she were about to strike him a blow. With a wave of her arms, the four wolves around them changed back into men. Naked men, their torn clothes littering the ground, mud splattering their flesh.

“As punishment for what you’ve done as men and as wolves,” Flidae said, “you shall no longer be under my protection nor shall you remain a pack together. I banish you five from this time and place. Ireland has no room for those who disrespect the gods and goddesses. I am, however, fair and choose to believe you will repent during your time away. Therefore, I will allow you back under my protection when you do something worthy, something so selfless that I can feel your heart growing. Do not disappoint me, wolves.”

A final crackle of light lit up the area, blinding Reardon and making him cover his head. When he opened his eyes, the beautiful shores of his beloved Ireland were gone. Instead, he was naked in a forest, damp leaves beneath his bare ass and a horrible hollow feeling filling his chest.

Where was he? Where were his men? What was he supposed to do now? Being naked in the woods did not leave him a great many options.

Think. He’d led a powerful army. He’d enjoyed victory in battle after battle. He’d managed to come before a goddess and keep his life. He could figure out what should happen next.

Do something worthy. Flidae’s words echoed in his head. He only had to do something worthy and he could go back home to Ireland. He could go back home and... and what? Clearly killing for money in wolf form was not something Flidae approved of, and he had no guarantee the other four men would do something worthy as quickly as he did. He also had doubts they would pledge any kind of allegiance to him considering what had happened. What good was a leader without men to lead? He’d also have to face the anger the men were throwing his way as Flidae chastised them. They probably wouldn’t follow his command anymore.

Why should they? He’d done the unforgivable to men who had only showed him loyalty. He’d disregarded their will. He’d made life-altering decisions for them that were not his to make.

He’d been greedy. Just as Flidae had said.

Sitting, Reardon rested his elbows on his bent knees and held his head in his hands. That empty feeling in his chest nearly overwhelmed him. He’d fought alongside his men for so long, shared quarters with them, dined with them. They were his brothers. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been truly alone.

But he was alone now. No link to his men, his new wolves, his beloved Ireland.

With a growl, he shifted to wolf form and took off at a run through the unfamiliar woods, weaving between trees as dirt and leaves churned up under his large paws. The warm air—so different from the cool rain he’d shivered under only moments ago—settled in his fur as he streaked through the forest, the scent of earth filling his nose. It didn’t smell like Ireland.

He came to an abrupt stop at the base of a huge pine tree, his lungs heaving. Although his senses were still sharpened, that connection to nature he’d always had when in wolf form was gone. Severed. Flidae had meant what she said about him not being under her protection. He felt separate and the sensation disoriented him.

He ran for a few more minutes, the night sky barely visible through the dense canopy of maple, birch, and beech trees. Running was the only thing that made sense right now. The only thing he could be successful at after being banished from the only home he’d ever known. He lived a brutal existence, but it was the existence he’d chosen... or the one that had chosen him. Either way, he was made to lead, to fight, to win. The defeat he’d experienced today at Flidae’s hands destroyed him. The guilt over turning his men without their consent tore out his heart.

Reardon McAlator officially had no one. This shouldn’t have been a big deal. He’d made a life out of ripping apart men in battle, of counting his rewards, of searching for his next contract. Now he had to do something worthy.

What does that even mean?

Worthy work to him was leading his army to victory. He had no army, no opponents, no battle, no king ready to pay him and his men handsomely for their skills.

He was just a wolf running in the dark woods. Woods he didn’t know. Where was he going?

And where are all the people?

Did no humans exist in this time and place Flidae had banished him to? Had his men ended up in more populated places? More dangerous places?

How could he have brought this on his most trusted men? How could he ever hope to make it up to them should they be reunited?

Reardon pushed his wolf form harder until the woods streaked by in a blur around him. His only plan right now was to run. Run fast. Run until he couldn’t run anymore. He appeared to still have his strength, so running forever was a distinct possibility. Maybe he could outrun this horrible situation Flidae had put him in.

No. I put myself here.

He had no one to blame but himself. The burden rested on his shoulders alone.

After sloshing through a shallow stream, he stopped for a moment to take a drink, then picked up his former gallop until a sudden, excruciating pain bit at his back right leg. A howl tore from his throat as he fell, his nose digging into the dirt and leaves. He panted, twisting in agony for a few moments, trying desperately to stay conscious. It felt as if someone had set his back leg on fire and soon that fire would consume him.

Get up. I’m stronger than this.

Hell, he’d been stabbed and sliced with swords and spears for most of his adult life. Whatever had just happened to his leg should be nothing in comparison.

Only it felt much, much worse.

Inhaling, he attempted to raise his head and look at his leg. An iron set of teeth had a crushing grip on him. Blood ran through his fur, warm and slick, and was that bone jutting out? A wave of nausea rolled over him and he looked away, not usually so squeamish. Maybe Flidae had taken more from him than he’d realized.

He considered his options for getting free and, unfortunately, he could only come up with one doable course of action—shift back to human form so he could use his hands to pry open the jaws. Shifting back to human was normally not a monumental task because he was used to the metamorphosis at this point, but what he didn’t look forward to was the increase in pain he would feel. The human body was not as tolerant of pain as his wolf form was, but he could see no other way of releasing himself. In his hybrid wolfman form, his clawed hands would be as useless as his paws would be. Only human hands would work.

And I’ll die if I stay like this.

For a long moment, he contemplated dying, pondered letting himself go, but it wasn’t in his nature to surrender. Ever. Clearly he was willing to do whatever it took to win... even betray his brothers in battle and anger goddesses.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he channeled his energy into shifting, but a snap of a twig nearby made him stop. Shuffling sounded and a circle of light bounced around amidst the dark trees. Voices traveled to him on the humid breeze.

He was not alone in these strange woods.

****

“It’s over this way I think.” Brandy led Parker through the woods on the sanctuary. They’d been in her driveway after The Blind Date from Hell when a pained howl echoed in the darkness. She’d immediately grabbed the flashlight and medical kit she kept by the door of her cabin, and Parker hadn’t hesitated to follow her.

“That howl didn’t sound like one of our furry friends.” Parker held a tranquilizer gun in his hands, ready to point it in any direction Brandy needed him to.

She smiled over Parker having her back just as he had tonight. Chella’s cousin, Marshall, was... was... what was he? Shit, she didn’t have the right words to describe him. At 5’6”, he was shorter than she was and skinny as a rail. With light brown hair and large brown eyes magnified a little by thick glasses, he reminded Brandy of a deer. Tentative, skittish, apt to bound accidentally in front of a logging truck. She’d taken one look at Marshall then slid her gaze to Parker, an apology already radiating from his facial expression. She then narrowed her eyes at Chella who was draped alongside Parker with a smug grin on her bright red lips.

What the hell was she hoping to accomplish by setting Brandy up with Marshall? No matter how nice a guy Chella’s cousin may have been, Brandy lived a rugged life intricately tied to the woods and the wolves. She spent most of her time working outside no matter the weather and her leisure activities included mountain and rock climbing, skiing, snowboarding, ATVing, snowmobiling... all things Marshall did not look interested in at all. Hell, a case of chapped lips would most likely crush him.

Give him a try.

She’d reminded herself of what Meredith was always telling her. “Love comes in all sorts of packages, Brandy. You’ve got to be willing to peel off the layers of wrapping paper and be open to the surprise waiting inside.”

Brandy’s parents had met in an airport in Colorado when their flights were cancelled and they were both waiting around at the mercy of the airlines and the weather. Fletcher Wendon was in no way the man Meredith had expected to steal her heart. He was a redhead. She never liked redheads. He had a beard. She hated beards. He had the gunk of a mechanic caked under his fingernails. She despised gunk and didn’t know shit about cars.

All that slipped by the wayside as they shared a meal at a tiny diner near the airport. Fletcher had charmed Meredith, obliterating her predetermined qualifications for a potential spouse. The two were married about six months after their initial encounter and had enjoyed their marriage on a daily basis right up until Fletcher passed away from a heart attack a few years ago. Brandy could only hope to find a love like her parents had shared.

But she definitely was not finding that love with Marshall.

He’d asked a hundred questions about food on the menu where they’d dined, causing the waiter to send her sympathetic glances. He’d spilled his wine in her lap then made no move to help clean it. His laugh was akin to the squawking of an agitated crow. Actually, no. That wasn’t fair to crows. He also didn’t want to order dessert after dinner. Now, as eager as Brandy was to end the date, she still had dessert in mind. What kind of guy didn’t want dessert? No kind of guy for her.

The killing blow, however, was when Parker and Brandy had a conversation about the wolves at the sanctuary and Marshall said, “Wolves are portrayed as big and bad in literature for a reason.”

Brandy had blinked at him for a solid ten-count before signaling to the waiter to bring their check. She’d paid for her dinner after Marshall hadn’t offered and driven home, equal parts relieved the date was done and depressed the evening hadn’t turned up her soul mate.

Soul mate. What a dumb notion.

Parker had apparently dropped Chella and Marshall off at Chella’s house then zipped to Brandy’s place to check on her. Too bad she and Parker didn’t have the necessary chemistry. He could be such a knight in shining armor sometimes.

Such a knight that he was willing to trudge through the dark woods to investigate an unfamiliar howl.

“Listen, B,” Parker said as they climbed up a small hill. “I’m sorry I forced you into the Marshall situation.”

She bumped shoulders with him. “No problem, buddy.”

“Just don’t do it ever again?”

“Never ever.”

“Got it.” He puffed out a breath. “I figured he’d be like Chella.”

Even more reason to never ever.

“I think I see something over here.” She led Parker to the fence that ran along the perimeter of the sanctuary. Sure enough, when she swung the flashlight beam from the left to the right, a pair of eyes reflected back to them.

“Hold the flashlight steady and I’ll hop the fence,” Parker said, looping the strap on the tranq gun over his shoulder.

“Are you giving me the ‘I’ll handle this, little lady’ speech?” She directed the flashlight beam onto Parker’s face.

He scrunched up his cheeks, his eyes becoming mere slits as his hands blocked the harsh light. “I’m guessing you don’t want to hear that speech.”

“Good guess, genius.” She pushed the flashlight and medical kit into his hands and in a move Parker didn’t have time to stop, she’d scaled the chain-link fence, landing softly on the other side. “Give me that stuff and come over.” She squeezed her hand through the links and took the flashlight then reached for the gun and medical kit over the top of the fence.

A few seconds later, Parker stood beside her and took the tranq gun back. “I think Marshall would have loved this portion of the evening.”

“Yeah, if by ‘loved’ you mean hated.” Brandy shined the light in the direction where she’d seen the eyes and once again caught them in the beam. She moved the flashlight from side to side. “Wow. This guy is big.”

“And very much caught in a trap.” Parker nudged Brandy’s hand down so the light shined on the wolf’s hindquarters.

“Shit.” Brandy ground her teeth so hard she could hear them crunch together. “How many times do I have to beg Hank Swift to keep his goddamn traps away from us?”

“At least once more it appears.” Parker took a few slow steps forward.

Approaching a wounded wolf took a great deal of caution. The animal didn’t always recognize a helping human from a jackass bent on catching it in a trap for no good reason. Hank didn’t have livestock anymore for wolves to prey on. He’d gambled them all away about a year ago, but that hadn’t stopped him from being able to afford these metal jaws of death he kept leaving around.

“I’m getting the sheriff involved this time. That poor wolf doesn’t deserve this.”

“The trap isn’t technically on your land though, B.”

“I know, but it’s still a safety risk for our wolves. What’s our point in doing all this rehabilitation when they could set one foot out of the sanctuary and end up like this unlucky fellow?”

“Hey, I agree with you, but I’m not sure Sheriff Olsen can do anything.” Parker motioned her over with the light as he got closer to the injured wolf. “It’s still worth a shot though.”

Brandy put calling the sheriff on the top of her to-do list for tomorrow. “Why isn’t this wolf whimpering or something? It’s as if he let out that one howl and that was all he had. He’s got to be in incredible pain.” She huddled behind Parker to get a better look. “Ah, shit. Is that bone?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Poor baby.”

As soon as the words left her lips, the wolf—a giant black one—curled its lips back and let out a low warning growl. Its teeth were razor-sharp and quite ready to tear into any humans who were stupid enough to get close.

“So yeah,” Parker said, “we tranqing this dude?”

“He does appear to be less than friendly at the moment,” Brandy agreed. “But who can blame him? I’d be pissed if my leg got mangled in steel jaws.”

“You get pissed when someone drops wine in your lap, never mind legs caught in traps.”

“Shut it, Parker. You wouldn’t have been comfortable wearing wine-soaked jeans either. Pull the trigger, will you?” She poked him in the shoulder.

He let out a soft laugh and squeezed off a shot. The dart landed in the wolf’s rear flank which released another growl from the angry, injured beastie.

“We’re not making friends with him so far.” Parker shouldered the tranq gun again while he and Brandy crouched together about twenty feet away from the wolf, waiting for it to pass out.

“He’ll thank us when he’s all healed up.” Brandy had never had a wolf reject her help or turn on her. Meredith said it was because she knew how to connect with animals on a level most humans didn’t. Whatever the case may be, she valued the relationships she had with all her wolf tenants. She’d offer this new wolf the same level of care and hospitality she gave everyone at Silver Moon.

“That break looks pretty bad,” Parker said, taking the flashlight and shining it directly on the wolf’s back leg as the creature’s head drooped.

“Nothing like a little midnight surgery, right?” Brandy squeezed his shoulder.

“And here I was hoping to get laid before bed, not set a wolf’s leg.” Parker sighed.

Brandy cupped her hands over her ears. “La-la-la-la. Don’t want to hear about your sex life, Dr. Daniels.”

“What? You weren’t hoping to get busy with Marshall?”

“I’d probably crush him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a man that skinny before.” Brandy wasn’t super picky about her dream guy, but a little bulk—something that told her he could hold his own in a street fight—would be nice. Not that many street fights broke out in the Vermont woods, but she needed a guy who was solid and could bring a pair of work boots to life. Cheap flip-flops would have been too much for Marshall to lift.

They huddled in the darkness until the wolf’s head hit the ground and it stayed motionless for a few minutes.

“Nighty-night, big boy.” Brandy approached first, going immediately to the trap and hitting the release mechanism on it. Fresh blood spurted out of the puncture wounds and she worked quickly to pack the leg and wrap it tightly with bandages from the medical kit.

“He looks too heavy to carry,” Parker said. “One of us should run back for a vehicle. Evens or odds?” He held out his fist ready to shoot for staying or going. That was how he and Brandy made most of their job delegation choices.

“Odds... you know, to go with my night so far.” Brandy held out her fist too.

“Once, twice, three times, shoot,” Parker said.

He held out two fingers, while Brandy held out one.

“Three. I win.” She did a little victory dance. “I choose staying here with this handsome guy. You go get the utility vehicle. It’s in the barn. You’ve got the key, right?”

Parker headed back to the fence after handing the tranq gun to Brandy and taking the flashlight. “Yup. Right here.” He dug in his pocket then keys jingled in the darkness. “You’ll be all right without a light?”

“Sure,” Brandy said. “I’ll tap into my wolf side.”

“You spend enough time with them that you having a wolf side is almost not a joke anymore.” The light retreated with him. “Be right back.”

Brandy heard him hop the fence, land on the other side, and take off at a run through the woods back toward the sanctuary’s barn. She took this opportunity to run her hand over the wolf’s fur. It was a little coarse, but still soft enough to make her want to snuggle with it. Did that make her a weirdo? Who wanted to snuggle with a wolf?

Just crazy Dr. Brandy Wendon. She exhaled a loud breath. No wonder she was alone in the man department. She was too nuts about the wolves to give a man attention even if she could find one she wanted. Besides, she had Dylan to take care of. Her time was stretched tight. A relationship would only pull those strings tighter.

And tight strings tended to snap.

“But I always have time for a big beauty like you,” she whispered to the sleeping wolf and mentally composed a list of what she and Parker would need to operate tonight. Fortunately they kept the clinic well stocked and this guy would get exactly the right care.

In the darkness, she couldn’t see too much, but something about having her hand on this wolf was... comforting. The gentle rise and fall of its side under her palm. The quiet hush of its inhales and exhales filling her ears. The musky scent of its warm body teasing her nose.

She always felt connected when with her wolves, but this was different.

This was like an empty space inside her had been colored in and had changed the entire picture.

Chapter Four

Reardon’s tongue felt as if someone had dumped sand onto it and his eyes did not want to open. With great effort, he forced his lids up, and a blurry scene wavered in front of him. A blurry scene with iron bars crisscrossing over it.

He raised his head off his paws and moved it to the left then to the right, his eyes slowly focusing but not giving him images that made any sense. What were those small suns above him? Why were the many contraptions surrounding him so shiny? What was that smell?

What contained him?

Lifting up onto his two front paws, Reardon attempted to get a better look around, but the pieces of the vision before him still didn’t add up to anything he recognized.

I’m no longer home.

His men. His wolves. Flidae’s wrath. The woods. The pain in his leg.

He wrenched his head back to inspect his injured leg. It didn’t hurt. Why didn’t it hurt? And where had those angry metal jaws gone? Why couldn’t he move the leg at all? What was that hard white substance surrounding it?

Why did he have so many questions?

As a man who rarely questioned anything, now all he could do was question. Unfortunately, he wasn’t getting any answers.

First order of business is to get out of here.

Wherever here was. He hoisted his back end up, but fell down immediately when pain coursed through his injured leg. Luckily, he had three other legs and after a few tries, he managed to stand on only them, putting no pressure on the leg wrapped in the hard, white substance. He couldn’t bend that one at all or put any weight on it.

Eying the door to the cage, Reardon inspected what appeared to be keeping it closed. Little more than an iron stick wedged into an iron loop, the door didn’t look all that substantial. If he shifted, he could easily lift the stick out of the loop, but the uncertainty of his current environment kept him in wolf form. His teeth were his best defense against potential threats.

Coiling up at the back of his prison, he lowered his head and rammed into the door.

Stars exploded in his vision and he hobbled back a few steps, shaking his head from the contact he’d made with the iron bars holding him. After a moment to recover, Reardon clamped his jaws around one of the bars at his level. Tugging and tugging, nothing budged.

He. Was. Captured.

As he was about to have another go at the door, a female voice traveled in from his right. Reardon turned his head toward the sound.

The melodic, merry, comforting sound.

“He’s a big one,” the voice said.

“We have a lot of big wolves, Mom,” a younger voice replied.

“We do, but this lovely is huge.”

Suddenly, a young lad stood in front of Reardon’s... well, his cage. He had to accept the fact that he was detained in a cage. In all his years of fighting, he’d never been captured, never been imprisoned, never been stripped of his dignity.

He’d also never foolishly pissed off a Celtic goddess. He deserved every bit of this shaming.

The boy’s wide eyes, however, didn’t look upon him with disdain. Instead, fascination filled them.

“Whoa!” The boy kneeled, his hands resting on his knees, and tilted his head at Reardon. “And you and Parker found him in the woods last night?”

Last night. Aye. Now Reardon remembered. Two humans had found him caught in those iron jaws. Things had gotten a little foggy after that, but he definitely remembered the red-haired fairy lass who had sat by his side as sleep had overtaken him.

The same red-haired fairy lass who came to stand behind the boy now.

So beautiful.

If he couldn’t smell her flowery scent, he’d think she were merely a mirage. Some spell-induced vision meant to enchant him. Because he was enchanted. Everything about this woman drew him in. Her thick mane of straight red hair falling about her shoulders. Her sky blue eyes regarding him now. Her pale, perfect skin.

Her lips. Her full, pink, tempting lips. Lips that smiled at him and made him want to change back to a man and increase that smile tenfold.

But he couldn’t do that. No sense in scaring the lad studying him or the woman.

“We were in the driveway,” the fairy woman began.

“After your date?” The boy’s brows lowered, his mouth a grim line. Why did that word date upset him? What did it mean?

Something swept across the fairy woman’s features, but she quickly shook it off. “Yes. Parker and I heard a howl that didn’t sound familiar, so we investigated.”

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” The boy turned to look up at her.

She ruffled his blond hair. “Because boys need their sleep to perform their best at school.” She glanced at her wrist. “Which you will be late for if you don’t get your patoot out to the bus stop, kiddo.”

“Aw, Mom. Can’t I stay home with you today? I’ll learn a lot more hanging around here than in Mrs. Gruper’s class.”

“If you don’t learn anything in Mrs. Gruper’s class today, whose fault is that?” The fairy woman put her hands on her hips and gave the boy a stern look which reminded Reardon of the way Flidae had regarded him and his men.

“Mine,” the boy mumbled as he got to his feet. “Promise me this wolf will still be here when I get home.”

She gestured to Reardon. “He’s not going anywhere with that broken leg.”

Broken leg?

Broken bones didn’t stay broken for long on a man like Reardon. His shifting abilities allowed him to heal faster than an average human, but he now understood the hard, white material covering his leg was meant to immobilize the limb so it could mend. It was an unnecessary course of action, but if it gave him the opportunity to be around the fairy lass, he could deal with the limited maneuverability. In a day or two, the ache would be gone completely and the bones healed.

For right now though, he was safe. He was dry. He had a shelter and if his nose didn’t mislead him, he’d have food.

And he’d have this woman who had taken care of him. What else might she do?

The boy’s gaze lingered on Reardon for a few more seconds before he got to his feet and picked up a sack from the floor.

“Do you have your lunch?” the woman asked.

The boy patted his sack. “It’s right here along with my homework which I know is your next question.”

The woman ruffled the lad’s hair again. “That predictable, am I?”

“A teeny-tiny bit, Mom.” The boy held up a hand with his index finger and thumb a short distance away from each other.

“Fine. But seriously,” the woman gestured to her wrist, “it’s getting late and I’m not driving you to school, Dylan.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” The boy’s shoulders sagged as he trudged to the door. When he reached it, he put his hand on the handle and looked back. “Where do you think he came from?”

“Good question, baby. I’ll call the police today to see if anyone reported him in the area, so maybe we can retrace his steps. I have to call the sheriff anyway.” Her mouth turned down at the corners in a fierce expression no lass as becoming as her should ever wear on her face.

“Because of the traps?” Dylan asked.

“Yes.” The woman walked over to the boy at the door and put her hands on his shoulders. “So take it as a lesson to be careful if you walk outside the perimeter of the sanctuary with Gram, okay?”

“I’m always careful.”

The woman bent and dropped a light kiss on the boy’s head that Reardon couldn’t help wanting for himself. “See you later.”

Dylan gave her a wave before slipping out the door. When the door clicked shut again, the woman wandered back over to Reardon’s cage.

“You are the most regal-looking wolf I’ve ever had the pleasure of boarding here.” She kneeled in front of the cage, her long hair falling forward on her shoulder and releasing more of that flowery scent. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Confused. Achy. Enthralled. He particularly liked that last feeling. Reardon couldn’t remember a time when he couldn’t take his eyes off a woman. No one had ever caught his attention like this. Of course, he’d never been trapped in a cage or had the chance to sit still long enough to truly watch a woman. He’d apparently been missing quite a bit by always running from battlefield to battlefield, chasing riches. Were there woman who looked like this one back home in Ireland? He’d never noticed.

“I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself last night,” she said. “I’m Brandy. I’ll let Dylan name you when he gets home after school. He loves to name the wolves.”

I have a name. But Reardon supposed he could stand to let the boy give him another one for as long as he was there.

And did she say wolves?

Were there more here at this place? Where were they? Why did this woman collect wolves? Was she a goddess like Flidae? She certainly was beautiful enough to be one, but if she was, why was she dressed as she was? Reardon wasn’t sure what to make of her garments.

Or lack of garments as it were.

Green material covered her from waist to mid-thigh, leaving long expanses of creamy white legs exposed. A black, sleeveless tunic covered her torso. Barely. It was like no tunic he’d ever seen. Snug. Very snug. Her bosom was displayed to Reardon’s delight, but was not in any way appropriate for a proper lady. He considered that perhaps Brandy was not a proper lady, but when his gaze met hers, he dismissed the thought. Any woman who rescued an injured, unknown wolf in the dark woods had a compassionate heart and a kind soul.

So he definitely didn’t deserve to be anywhere near her.

“What do you think, big boy?” She stuck two fingers between the bars of the cage. “Do I smell all right to you? Do you think you can trust me?” She wiggled her fingers in invitation.

Finding himself eager to get closer, Reardon shuffled over to her and pushed his nose against her fingers. Her skin smelled even better than the flowery scent coming from her hair. He couldn’t quite identify what she smelled like, but he definitely wanted to smell more of it.

“You’re quite a bit friendlier this morning than you were last night, aren’t you?” She rubbed two of her fingertips along his muzzle and he nearly moaned at her touch. What would more of her fingers on him feel like? And what about on his bare, human skin? How could he get himself into that situation?

Play nice. Aye. If he wasn’t a threat, she wouldn’t need to keep him in that cage. She’d maybe let him roam free. He wouldn’t roam far. That much he could promise. He had this inexplicable need to find out more about this lass.

“Are you hungry?” She didn’t wait for an answer, most likely assuming he couldn’t answer, but he enjoyed that she spoke to him just the same. It was as if she considered him an equal.

If she only knew how equal.

Brandy stood, taking her fingers with her, which made Reardon unhappy. She clanged around for a few moments in an area of the big room he couldn’t see from his cage, and when she returned, she had a bowl filled with meat.

His stomach instantly rumbled and she laughed. “Wow. How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

Too long. The last thing he remembered in terms of any sustenance was drinking in the tavern with his men. Drinking quite a bit.

Brandy picked up a few pieces of meat and dropped them into the cage.

Damn. He’d been hoping she’d planned to put the whole bowl in the cage and would have had to open the door. He understood her trepidation though. He was a strange wolf who probably had done too much flashing of his teeth last night while he’d been caught in that trap. He was going to have to work hard at appearing gentle, but far from home and without his army, he had nothing else to do anyway.

Do something worthy.

Maybe he could do something worthy for Brandy and gain back Flidae’s favor. As beautiful as this fairy lass before him was, he still wanted to get home to Ireland. He didn’t belong in this time or this place, whenever and wherever it was. He had to gather his men, apologize, beg Jaemus in particular to forgive him. He’d wronged his own brother in the worst way possible. He had to fix that. Somehow.

Brandy continued dropping meat pieces into the cage, and Reardon ate every morsel. It all tasted wonderful.

When the meat was gone, Brandy disappeared again. She returned with another bowl filled with water. Perhaps Reardon wouldn’t have to wait for her to open the door after all, but she walked to the back of his cage. Awkwardly, he turned around as she unlatched a smaller door—one much too small for him to exit—at the base of the enclosure. She slid the water bowl in and closed the hatch.

Disappointed, but too thirsty to dwell on it, Reardon sloshed down big gulps of water. Soon his tongue didn’t feel so sandy anymore, his stomach wasn’t so empty, and his leg didn’t hurt as much. Simple comforts, but they meant a great deal to him right now.

“Why don’t you lie down, big boy, and relax? You need to take it easy for a little while.”

Reardon lowered to his belly, and Brandy chuckled. The sound vibrated through Reardon and he almost shifted on the spot. Certain she would find a naked man in the cage unsettling, he reined in his ability and closed his eyes. He was sleepy. It was only yesterday he’d fought in a merciless battle, gotten a little drunk, faced an angry goddess, woken up in a strange place, and broken a leg. All that was catching up to him. Now that his leg had been tended to and his belly was full, a nap sounded like an excellent idea.

He’d rather be cuddled up in his human form with Brandy beside him, but he could be patient. Perhaps he’d dream about her at least.

As his eyes were closing, the door Dylan had gone out earlier opened. Reardon raised his head at the prospect of seeing the boy again when another voice—an adult male voice—filled the room.

“How’s our patient?” the voice asked as a man came into view by the cage.

Reardon curled his lips back and let out his lowest, deadliest growl.

A warning. One he didn’t usually have to issue twice.

Chapter Five

“No, no, big boy.” Brandy jogged over to the wolf’s cage. “Parker is our friend. He fixed that leg of yours. You be nice.” She wagged a finger.

The wolf’s teeth were still showing, but he didn’t release another one of those growls—the kind of growl that could make a man’s heart stop. Low and predatory. Alpha.

The more Brandy studied the gorgeous wolf, the more she suspected he was indeed Alpha of a powerful pack somewhere. The notion of reuniting him with that pack didn’t fill her with the usual content though. Something about the green-gold eyes of this beauty made her want to keep him at the sanctuary. Keep him for herself. Combine those magnificent eyes with the thick coat of ebony fur covering a muscular body and Brandy was looking at the most regal wolf she’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. The little piece missing from the tip of his left ear gave him a badass aura as if he’d seen many battles and his opponents hadn’t lived to tell the tale.

“Should I leave?” Parker hadn’t moved since the wolf let out his warning growl.

“Of course not.” Brandy elbowed Parker. “Are you going to let him win?”

“Normally, I’d say hell no, but this guy looks as if he’d love to tear my flesh right off my bones.” Parker slowly pointed a finger at the wolf whose eyes actually looked as if they were electric. That green-gold color didn’t look the same as it had when it was just Brandy talking to the wolf in the clinic earlier. Now they were almost... glowing.

Brandy squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. This was what she got for staying up into the wee hours of the morning, assisting in surgery, and making sure strange wolves were comfortable. Glowing eyes? Get real. She had to lay off reading that clinical lycanthropy bullshit too. It was messing with her reality.

“He’s not going to hurt you.” Brandy kneeled again by the cage and stuck her fingers in.

“Are you insane?” Parker whispered. “Do you not need those two fingers?”

“Oh, stop it. He’s just feeling a little protective, aren’t you, big boy?” She wiggled her fingers and slowly the wolf’s gaze slid from Parker to her. “That’s a good wolf. See, Park, he and I bonded while you weren’t here.”

“Great. So now he thinks you’re his?”

Brandy laughed. “Something like that.” She wouldn’t mind belonging to someone, though she did have someone of the two-legged variety in mind. “Besides, he can’t hurt you from inside that cage.”

“I know, but I’d rather him not think I’m an enemy right from the start. I know you. You’re dying to let him out.”

One of her biggest joys at the sanctuary was watching the wolves that lived there roam through the woods. “I can’t help it. Seeing them caged makes me sad. Wolves are meant to own the forest.”

The big wolf licked her fingers and snuffled around as if to agree with her statement. It infuriated her that most of these wolves had gotten injured or sick due to idiotic humans. The bastard responsible for the traps being out in the woods was undoubtedly the biggest idiotic human she’d ever come across.

Hank Swift owned a farm to the west of the sanctuary’s lands. It used to be a big, thriving farm that grew hundreds upon hundreds of rows of corn and other vegetables and raised both beef cattle and dairy cows along with chickens, goats, and horses. About ten years ago, a person could go to Swift Winds Farm and get everything from fresh tomatoes to prime cuts of beef to soaps and other products made from goat’s milk to a pony for little Suzie’s birthday present. Hank’s farm was the farm in Canville, Vermont.

Until his wife, Peggy Swift, left him.

Rumor around town was she shacked up with a younger man she’d met at the local gas station and had run off to California with the dude. Hank never confirmed or denied the stories, but from the moment he’d discovered she had left, his soul had turned black. He drank too much. He smoked too much. He let his crops shrivel and die. He sold off all his livestock and went to Connecticut to gamble.

Well, to lose actually.

Currently, he lived in the white farm house on the property that used to have beautiful hanging baskets of petunias, blooming bright red all through the summer. Now the entire porch leaned away from the house and had an ornery porcupine living under it. A single rickety rocking chair sat to the left of the door, and Hank’s shotgun was always leaning against the railing, a silent warning to get off his land or he’d blow a hole clean through you.

Brandy had unfortunately encountered Hank on too many occasions lately. She kept spotting his traps set up in the woods just outside the perimeter of the sanctuary. Though they weren’t on her land, she worried about her wolves, her son, and her mother accidently stepping on one and getting seriously injured. She’d heard enough stories about humans losing parts of their legs after getting stuck in animal traps. If anything like that ever happened to Dylan, she’d... she’d... she’d lose it.

She’d called Sheriff Olsen this morning and he’d assured her he would pay Hank a visit and see what he could do. She only hoped Hank would hear the message and pull all his traps for good.

Parker kneeled beside her and the wolf let out a low rumble. “Look, man. I found her first.”

Brandy threw her free arm around Parker’s shoulders. “He’s right, big boy. Parker and I go way back.”

“Yeah, I knew her when she was a dorky little graduate student.” He pulled on her hair.

“I wasn’t dorky.” She nudged him. “I was studious. There’s a difference.”

“It must be a very subtle one.”

“Look, I’m trying to get this wolf to like you, Park. You’re not making it easy. In fact, I’m starting not to like you too.”

“Ouch. Take that back. You love me.”

“Like the brother I never wanted.”

“Like the brother who will set you up on more blind dates if you’re not nice to him.”

Brandy held out her hand. “Truce?”

They shook hands then Parker said, “Chella said she’s sorry it didn’t work out between you and Marshall.”

A small puff of air released itself from her lips before she could contain it.

Parker sat on the floor by the cage, his legs crisscrossed in front of him. “You don’t believe she’s sorry?”

“I believe she wants me to find someone so she doesn’t have to worry about... well... you know...” She did not want to voice her opinion. To date, she’d kept her feelings about Chella to herself. Parker seemed happy and she could support him even if she suspected Chella was not the right girl for him. What did she know about love anyway? If Chella made Parker smile, who was she to say they weren’t a good match?

“So she doesn’t have to worry about us getting together?” Parker’s eyebrows lowered over his warm brown eyes. “I didn’t think you knew about her being jealous of you.”

Yikes. She’d half thought she’d been off the mark on that jealousy thing, but here he was confirming it.

“Chicks can sense these things.” She shrugged, wanting to end this conversation before it got awkward.

“I keep telling her we’re more like family, but she doesn’t see it that way.”

“Does she know we tried dating in college and it didn’t take?” Brandy swiveled and crisscrossed her legs so her knees almost touched Parker’s. The wolf sat in the cage as if listening to the exchange as well.

“Yeah. I told her a while ago and she freaked. I reiterated the part where it didn’t take about a million times, but she said, ‘How could it not work out? She’s beautiful. You’re gorgeous. You’re both interested in naturey stuff.’ Her words.” Parker rolled his eyes.

“Of course. You’d never call what we do ‘naturey stuff.’”

“Nope. Anyway, she didn’t think there was any way you and I wouldn’t work.” Parker blinked at his lap for a minute before raising his gaze back to her face. “Do you sometimes wonder if... I don’t know... if we didn’t give us enough of a chance?”

“Umm...” Brandy swallowed loudly. Now and then, when she was feeling particularly lonely, she did consider maybe Parker had been The One. Then they’d work on something together at the sanctuary and she’d go back to believing friendship was the right course for them. “Do you?”

Parker shrugged his right shoulder. “Maybe.”

Interesting. Here she’d been thinking he was head over heels for Cruella Chella, but maybe he had his doubts about her too.

“We could kiss right now and see what happens.” The words left her mouth before she’d had a chance to think about them.

Parker’s eyes bugged. “Uhh, yeah. I guess we could.”

“Hey, Park, we’re people of science. Consider it an experiment. We’re just testing a theory.”

“Right. Gathering data.”

“Exactly.”

“What if the theory that we should be together is supported by the data?” He shifted to his knees as she did the same.

The wolf let out a little whine as if he didn’t approve of this experiment, but that was silly. What did a wolf know about human relationships? It had to be less than Brandy did.

“Then, as scientists, we will have to design other experiments and collect more data.”

“Okay.” Parker stood and held out his hand to Brandy. He pulled her to her feet when she took it, the wolf pacing in clumsy circles in his cage beside them. “He doesn’t seem to like this idea.”

So Parker noticed that too. Hmm.

“Too bad. Two-legged occupants of the clinic are in charge.” Or were they? What they were about to do was totally crazy.

And she’d been the one to suggest it.

“Should we do an on-the-count-of-three type thing?” Parker was still holding her hand and his was noticeably clammy.

“Sure. That works. On three or after three?” This was quite possibly the dumbest conversation she and Parker had ever had.

“After three. On three will put our lips in an odd position.”

“True. Okay.”

Brandy stared into Parker’s brown eyes and the two of them began counting. At one, they each took a step closer to one another. On two, Parker let go of her hands and put his on her hips, coaxing her closer still. Brandy put her hands on Parker’s shoulders and leaned in for the kiss.

“Three,” Parker whispered.

Their lips met and while his were soft and warm and tasted slightly of minty toothpaste, Brandy could tell they still didn’t have a soul mate connection. His kiss was perfectly acceptable. Not too much pressure. Not too much saliva. Not too much tongue.

Just not enough... spark.

They mutually ended the kiss and took a step back from each other. Parker stuck his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Brandy folded her arms across her chest. A silent moment stretched between them.

Parker cleared his throat.

Brandy studied her work boots.

“So...” Parker said.

“Yeah.” Brandy met his gaze. “Nothing. Right?”

“Not a thing.” He whooshed out a breath. “I mean, you’re a great kisser.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks. You too.” She arrowed her hands at him. “Nothing wrong with the kissing itself.”

“Not at all. Just no... you know...” He ran his hand through his brown hair, mussing it adorably.

Brandy fiddled with the end of her hair. “No sizzle.”

“No sizzle. Definitely.”

“Well, okay then. That’s all settled.” Brandy clapped her hands together. “And we’ll never speak about it again, right?”

“That experiment goes to the grave with us both.” Parker wiped his hands on the thighs of his jeans.

“And this wolf. He witnessed it all, but he’ll never tell.”

“He better not.” Parker glanced at the wolf. “But why do I feel as if he’s judging us?”

“You maybe.” Brandy gave Parker a shove. “He likes me.”

Parker shoved her back. “I’ll let you two be alone then. He seems to be doing well, and I’ve got an alpaca over in Burlington that needs my expert attention.”

“You’re so important, Dr. Daniels.” Brandy used a high girly voice and batted her eyelashes as she fanned herself with her hand.

Parker laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, B.”

She gave him a wave and listened for the door closing before slumping to the floor beside the wolf’s cage. “Oh my God, big boy. That was weird. Have you ever kissed your best friend?” She turned to look at the black beauty whose green-gold eyes were so intensely focused on her. A strange warmth grew in the middle of her chest and radiated to parts below.

Great. The gaze of an animal was turning her on. This day was just plain odd. She’d thought the wolf’s eyes were glowing. She’d kissed Parker. Now she’d swear she was feeling something for this wolf. She needed to get it together and quickly.

“Let’s see how you react to another wolf, shall we?”

She got to her feet and shuffled to the door, intending to find Lug and bring him in. He was the friendliest and most laid back of all the wolves. If anyone could make friends with the new guy, it was Lug.

Brandy opened the door to find Hank Swift standing on the other side of it instead.

He pushed his way in and pinned Brandy to the wall. “You called the fucking police on me.”

“Listen, Hank, I—”

“I don’t want to hear any explanations, bitch.”

A loud clang sounded behind her as Hank increased the pressure of his forearm across her chest. She risked a glance in the direction of the noise and widened her eyes at the wolf cage now on its side.

The empty wolf cage.

****

Reardon bolted toward the man with his hands on Brandy. He’d had enough of watching men have their hands on her, and although she hadn’t minded that Parker lad touching her, Brandy definitely did not like this new man pinning her against the wall. Her fear filled Reardon’s nostrils, and the only thing he could think about was sinking his teeth into the bastard’s flesh.

He let out a low warning growl and prepared to lunge when the man didn’t let go of Brandy right away.

“Go ahead, mutt,” the man said, not loosening his hold on Brandy. “Bite me and then I’ll have a great case for shutting down this fucking mangy zoo.”

Brandy’s gaze connected with Reardon’s and he read her plea not to bite the stranger, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t scare the potatoes out of him. Instead of biting, he went through a series of lunges, accompanied by his fiercest barking, snarling, and growling. He made sure he displayed every single one of his sizable teeth and he reared up on his hind legs a few times—though it pained his injured one—so the stranger could see how big he was. Saliva flew from Reardon’s jaws as they snapped and his claws scraped noisily against the room’s flooring.

The color left the man’s cheeks and, slowly, he released his hold on Brandy and backed toward the door. Reardon didn’t relent though. He kept up his menacing act until the man was on the step outside the door and still backing up.

“I’m leaving!” he shouted at Reardon. His gaze went to Brandy. “But this isn’t over. I got a right to put those traps out. If your beasts are too stupid to stay out of them, it’s not my problem.”

Brandy came up behind Reardon. “It will definitely be your problem if my son or anyone else I know accidently steps into one of your Jaws of Death, Hank. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Call the cops again, and you can count on someone getting hurt.”

Hank turned around and Reardon had to stop himself from running after his retreating form, ripping him limb from limb, and pissing all over his shredded carcass. The only thing that truly kept him from doing any of those things was Brandy falling to her knees behind him.

A sob rose from her and the sound arrowed through Reardon’s heart. This woman had been nothing but kind to him, and he couldn’t imagine reacting to her the way that bastard had. Clearly, he was the one in the wrong. Reardon knew firsthand how wrong. He had a chewed up leg from one of the traps as evidence. And though Reardon didn’t have much experience with a respectable lass like Brandy, he knew for sure a gentleman didn’t talk to one the way that man had. Nor did he put his hands on a lass. Not unless he’d been invited to do so and then only with the utmost reverence.

More sobs followed the first one, and Reardon longed to shift so he could gather Brandy in his arms to comfort her. Deciding that would startle her more than console, he settled for sidling up next to her and going into a submissive position. He rested his chin on his paws, but kept edging closer, closer, closer. He didn’t stop until his head was in her lap and her hands had found their way into his thick fur. Reardon wasn’t sure if Brandy was conscious of what she was doing, but he did not want her to stop.

Her touch was... amazing.

She folded forward, burying her face in the fur of his neck, and he turned his head enough to lick her soft cheek. She tasted as good as she smelled and his desire for her increased tenfold. If they stayed this close, he was definitely going to shift and scare her. Not only would there be a large, naked man on the floor beside her, but a large, naked erection as well.

He licked her cheek again—he couldn’t resist—then backed up to sit on his haunches, his injured leg making the position painful.

Brandy ran her hands over her face, attempting to dry her tears. “I’m sorry, big boy. I don’t usually fall apart like that.” She sniffed and twisted all that magnificent fiery red hair onto one shoulder. “But I’ve never been so frightened in all my life.” She let out a little mirthless laugh. “And I coexist with wild animals.”

As she puffed out a breath and pushed herself over to lean against the wall by the door, Reardon sat perfectly still. He didn’t want to cause the lass any more stress, and more importantly, he didn’t want her to come to her senses and realize he was no longer contained in the cage.

Look harmless. Aye, that would win her over. He got into a lie down position again, head resting on paws, and managed a friendly tail wag. Normally, Reardon McAlator, leader of the fiercest army in Ireland, did not wag his tail for anyone.

But this lass? He’d quite possibly do anything for this lass though he barely knew her.

“Brandy!” a female voice called from the other end of the room.

Reardon remained in his submissive posture, sensing no harm from the other woman’s voice.

“Over here, Mom,” Brandy said.

The fairy lass has a mother. Of course she did. Reardon had had one too. Long ago. Before he turned into a wolf that first time. Before he became a monster on the battlefield.

A woman with shoulder-length, silvery hair rushed to Brandy’s side. She’d barely given Reardon a second glance as she stepped around him and got to her knees beside her daughter.

“Are you all right? I saw Hank running from the clinic, and I knew he was here causing trouble. I’d like to get my hands around his neck and... and...” She wrapped her arms around Brandy and squeezed her to her chest instead of finishing her threat. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Brandy shook her head against her mother’s shoulder. “No.” She raised her head and regarded Reardon. “Call me nuts, but I think this big, beautiful boy saved me.”

Her mother glanced over her shoulder to regard Reardon. Again, he did his best to look passive though Brandy had seen him at his most feral just moments ago. She had to understand he’d only behaved that way because he’d seen she was in trouble.

“Send old Swift packing, did you, wolfie?” Brandy’s mother held out her hand.

Supposing that was an invitation, Reardon got to his feet—his three good ones anyway—and slowly approached. He touched his nose to her offered fingers and finding them to smell like meat, he set about licking each one and most of her palm.

Her laugh filled the room and leached all the tension out of it. “Somebody approves of the steak I marinated this morning for dinner tonight.”

“I suppose we owe him a piece then.” Brandy smiled and it lit up the air around them.

“Any wolf that protects my baby girl can sit at the goddamn dinner table with us.” Brandy’s mother scooched around so she faced Reardon. “I’m Meredith. What are we calling you?”

“I was waiting for Dylan to name him after school. You know how he likes to do that.”

Meredith shook her head. “He came to your defense. He wants you to name him. The kid will get over it.”

Brandy angled her head at Reardon, and for some foolish reason, he wanted her to name him. Even though he already had a name. Even though he wasn’t just a wolf. Even though he’d eventually have to reveal he was also a man.

He wanted her to claim him. Naming him would do that.

“Go get the book.” Meredith gave Brandy a nudge.

Brandy got to her feet and Meredith followed. Reardon wasn’t sure what to do. His instincts told him to follow the women, but his brain said the less he moved the better. His injured leg agreed with that as well. The limb burned now, and he was almost certain that not being under Flidae’s protection anymore had affected his ability to rapidly heal. One of the few perks to being a werewolf was now lessened.

He let out a wolf sigh, but after being close to Brandy, he was no longer that eager to get home. Maybe he could enjoy his time here first. Maybe he could do something Flidae would consider worthy. Maybe he could get closer to Brandy.

When the two women came back to where he was still sitting, Brandy had a book under her left arm.

Meredith pointed to the overturned cage. “Strong sucker, isn’t he?”

Brandy set the book on a nearby shelf, and she and Meredith righted the cage. “You should have seen him get up on his hind legs and hold that position—even with a busted leg. Hank was about two seconds away from shitting himself.”

Laughter filled the room, and Reardon was relieved Brandy appeared to be all right. Pink tinged her cheeks again, and her smile reached all the way to her gorgeous blue eyes that reminded him of summer skies in Ireland.

“I think it’s time we got those security cameras we’ve been talking about, don’t you?” Meredith pulled the blankets out of the cage, balled them up, and set them by the door.

Reardon assumed that meant he wouldn’t be inhabiting that cage during the rest of his stay here. Though he didn’t like that Hank lad threatening Brandy, the bastard had afforded him the opportunity to both prove his loyalty and show he could be trusted to roam free.

“I agree. Cameras make sense.” Brandy picked up the book. “But first, a name.”

“Something very Alpha,” Meredith said. “This guy isn’t a powder puff.”

Brandy opened the book, skimmed a few pages, and squinted at Reardon. Her brow was creased in concentration and she nibbled on her lower lip as she considered the possibilities.

Reardon liked how focused she was, as if she wanted to get just the right name for him. He had the right name, but that didn’t stop him from appreciating her efforts.

After about five minutes, Brandy snapped the book closed.

“You got it?” Meredith asked.

“Yes. This baby came to my rescue as if he were ready to go to battle with Hank. He was fearless, ignored his own pain, and didn’t stop until I was thoroughly defended.” Brandy kneeled in front of Reardon, her mane of hair sliding over her shoulder like a crimson wave of silk. “I dub thee Alator, after the Celtic god of war. You showed great courage against the enemy.”

Alator? If Reardon could have smiled in wolf form, he would have done it. Reardon McAlator gets named Alator. Maybe he wasn’t the only one to feel a connection. Maybe Brandy felt one to him as well. Such a strong one that she’d guessed his real name.

“Alator,” Meredith said slowly. “I like it. Very powerful and fitting for a huge guy like this.”

“What do you say, big boy?” Brandy ran her hand along his muzzle, under his chin, along the edges of his torn left ear. “Do you like your new name?”

Reardon pushed his nose against her palm, especially loving how her index finger had traced the outline of his imperfect ear. Slowly, he rose to all fours, holding his injured one up a little. He bowed his head then gently touched it to her forehead. He wished he could talk to her, but this was the closest he could get to saying thank you.

“Oh, he’s kind of a sweetie, isn’t he?” Meredith laughed. “Let’s hope Hank doesn’t find that out.”

Brandy hooked her hand around the back of Reardon’s neck and nuzzled his left ear with her nose. She sat back and traced the jagged tip of that ear with her index finger again, making Reardon let out a soft wolf sigh. “Something tells me Alator doesn’t reveal his softer side to his enemies.”

Aye. Until today, Reardon doubted he had a softer side, but this lass made him feel things. Things a warrior werewolf had no business feeling. Things he didn’t think he could ignore.

“Shall we see if he can get along with some of our other residents?” Meredith walked to a window and peered out. “Lug is right here as always.”

Brandy turned back to Reardon. “Okay, buddy. Time to make friends. If you don’t make friends, you can’t stay.”

Something in her eyes begged him to make friends. Was it possible she wanted him to stay? What would she do if she knew he was really a man? Would she be happy? Angry? Afraid?

He didn’t want her to be afraid. He wanted her to keep nuzzling and petting and rubbing, but he also wanted those things in human form.

The time will come. He could let her be comfortable with his wolf form for a while. He was in no rush. Originally, he’d wanted to get back to Ireland, but what was waiting there for him? His family had been his closest men. They had been banished as he had and even if they hadn’t, they were none too happy with him for what he’d done.

No. Going home to either no one or a pack of angry wolves didn’t hold half the appeal that staying with Brandy did.

And so, he allowed her to usher him back into the cage. “Sorry, buddy, but I can’t risk that you’ll go all Alator on poor Lug. He’s not a fighter.” She latched the cage door. “Okay, Mom, let Lug in.”

A moment later, a medium-sized brown wolf loped over to him, and Reardon could instantly tell this wolf had never seen a day’s battle.

Lucky bastard.

Reardon stayed perfectly still while Lug set about sniffing every side of the cage, the wolf’s tail wagging like wild. Lug smelled like damp earth and pine and wet fur. The brown wolf gave off an energy that immediately relaxed Reardon, which was a brand new feeling. Living the warrior’s life rarely brought relaxation. He and his army were always poised for battle, ready to fight at a moment’s notice... or the first sign of a hefty payout. For the first time, Reardon wasn’t concerned with wealth or glory.

He only wanted to stay with the fairy lass named Brandy.

Figuring he’d better react in some way to Lug if he wanted out of that cage again, Reardon pressed his nose to the bars and let out a little whine as if calling for Lug’s attention. The brown wolf raised its head and Reardon lifted a paw, letting it rest on one of the bars separating him from Lug. He turned his head and set his green-gold gaze on Brandy, hoping like hell he wasn’t registering as a threat.

“I think he wants out,” Meredith said.

“What do you think, Lug?” Brandy crouched by the cage, her arm going around Lug in a way that nearly pulled a growl from Reardon. “Can we trust him?”

Lug’s front paws slid until the wolf was on his belly beside the cage. Reardon accepted it as the submissive gesture it was, but didn’t take his eyes off Brandy.

“No one is snarling or pissing to mark their territory,” Meredith said. “I think it’s safe, but I’m not the fancy wildlife biologist, so what do I know?”

“Mom, you know as much as I do about wolves. You’ve lived here at the sanctuary long enough to have earned an honorary degree.”

Meredith gave Brandy’s shoulder a little squeeze. “Thanks, honey. Nowhere else I’d rather be than here with you, Dylan, and all these beautiful wolves.”

Brandy rested her hand atop Meredith’s then unlatched the cage’s door. “Play nice, Alator. A tranq gun is within range if necessary.”

Slowly, Reardon stepped out of the cage. He paused to let Lug approach, but the brown wolf remained in the submissive position as if waiting for a command from Reardon.

Hmm.

Reardon let out a little chuffing bark in invitation and Lug rose to his feet. The two wolves sniffed each other, tails wagging. When Lug trotted off, Reardon wrestled with following, but the wolf came right back with a bag in its jaws.

“You want to share your snacks with Alator, Lug?” Brandy asked. “What a good boy.” She gave the other wolf a vigorous rubbing, and Reardon had to clench his jaw to keep his razor-sharp teeth from doing something foolish.

Brandy opened the bag and tossed two biscuits at each wolf. Lug devoured his in an instant, while Reardon crunched on each one as politely as an oversized black wolf could.

“Well, I’d say he passed the test,” Meredith said.

“Me too.” Brandy grabbed the blankets Meredith had taken out of the cage earlier and made a nest of them in a corner of the room. She collapsed the sides of the cage and hauled it out of sight much to Reardon’s delight. “He does, however, need to rest that leg before tackling the sanctuary’s woods.”

Rest. The word was foreign to him. He hadn’t rested in ages. No one had ever insisted that he do so either.

“C’mon.” Brandy snapped her fingers then pointed to the nest of blankets. “You want that leg to get better so you can run around, don’t you?”

He wanted it to get better so he could follow her wherever she went.

Chapter Six

Two weeks passed in a blur of normal, everyday activity at Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary. Brandy had kept busy tending to the wolves, entertaining school groups, helping Parker with his college students, and writing four articles for the various science journals and blogs she contributed to.

But mostly she watched Alator.

The big, black wolf had healed nicely, albeit faster than she’d expected. None of the other wolves she’d worked with had ever recovered from a broken limb in under two weeks, but Alator had. An X-ray Parker took of his leg showed nothing but strong bone. Odd, but Brandy let it go in favor of the notion that the wolf was just a fast healer. Some wolves were like that.

Right?

Regardless, in less than two weeks, Alator was checking out every corner of the sanctuary as if he was committing each sector to memory. He sniffed. He pawed at the ground. He pissed along the entire perimeter. He claimed the area as his and the other wolves didn’t seem to mind at all. She’d observed the rest of the pack using a certain kind of reverence when interacting with Alator that she couldn’t quite explain. She’d chalked it up to the fact that the black wolf exuded testosterone and the others had merely accepted him as Alpha.

Which was beyond odd.

Alator had been there the least amount of time. The other wolves had been together for years. Even Lug, who’d been quasi-leader of the pack, had deferred to Alator without a fight. It didn’t add up, but so far everything had been peaceful at the sanctuary and Brandy wasn’t going to complain about that.

She also wasn’t going to complain about letting Alator into her log cabin at night. Since Hank Swift’s threatening visit, she’d been double checking locks, doing perimeter sweeps for traps, leaving outside lights on. She’d called for the security system and that was supposed to be installed this week. That had allowed her a chance to climb back from the edge she’d been on since that bastard had pinned her to the wall in the clinic.

The nerve. Every once in a while that scenario popped into her head. Okay, okay. Maybe it was more than once in a while. Maybe it was every time she freaking closed her eyes. She could smell the beer on Hank’s breath again. Feel his forearm against her throat. See the veins bulging in his poorly shaven neck. She’d wake up in a sweat, heart racing, hands clutching the sheets.

And then Alator was there. By the side of the bed. His head resting on the mattress. His ripped left ear twitching. His green-gold eyes visible in the darkness of her bedroom where he insisted on sleeping on the floor. Every night she offered him a comfy bed out in the living room. Every night he turned it down and followed her to her bedroom where he slid down onto the hardwood floor at the foot of her bed. He’d curl up into a tight ball, but she could tell he’d spring into action if necessary.

Alator offered some comfort with his presence, but Brandy still ended up having nightmares. She got angry about them too. Why the hell should Hank Swift be keeping her up at night? When she drove past his property on the way to her own, goosebumps broke out on her skin. If Hank happened to be outside, he stopped whatever he was doing to narrow his eyes at her as she passed by. Just a look from him chilled her.

Grr. It pissed her off that a stupid neighbor could screw up her normally balanced chakras.

As if sensing her unrest now, Alator walked out of the deeper woods toward her, his gait smooth and confident. Brandy yanked several more weeds from the garden she’d been tending under the warm June sun. Every summer she filled the earth with herbs on a patch of land about twenty feet from the log cabin where she and Dylan lived. She loved cooking with the fruits of her labor. Basil, oregano, thyme, rosemary... she could just sit there and breathe it all in.

But right now a very excited boy nearly knocked her over.

“Umm... is someone pumped that today was the last day of school?” She pulled Dylan into her lap and covered his face with kisses, which he pretended to wipe off. She knew the day would come when he probably wouldn’t be pretending but instead be completely appalled if she kissed him. For now she’d shower him with whatever affection he would tolerate.

Alator sat on his haunches and observed as he often did.

“Today was the best day ever!” Dylan shouted as he wiggled out of her lap.

“And do we have a report card, Mr. Wendon?” Brandy stood, brushed dirt off her bottom, and held her hand out to the boy with a stern look on her face.

“It’s called a performance report, Mom.”

“Oh, right.” What was the difference? Why did the world of education love changing the names of things so much? Brandy could hardly keep up.

Dylan got to his feet and retrieved the backpack he’d flung to the ground. He stopped for a moment to scratch between Alator’s ears. Brandy loved how the boy and the wolf had bonded during Alator’s time at Silver Moon. When the wolf wasn’t shadowing her around the sanctuary, he was hanging out with Dylan, playing fetch games—which she’d never seen a wild wolf do—or running alongside her son through the woods. It was fun to watch them together. As if they’d been friends for lifetimes.

“Here you go.” Dylan handed over a large manila envelope with his name on the outside.

Brandy could tell by the smug look on the kid’s face that he’d done well, which was no surprise. He came from a long line of academic types after all.

She made a big show of dusting dirt off her hands, adjusting her Silver Moon baseball hat, slowly opening the envelope, and sliding her hand inside.

“OMG, Mom!” Dylan danced around her. “Hurry up! I gotta show Gram. She promised me an X-Men movie marathon if I had good grades.”

“Did she now?”

He nodded. “With popcorn and soda and pizza!”

“Well, isn’t she a bucket ’o fun?”

Dylan’s smile widened. “Gram is the best gram on planet Earth.”

“Truer words have not been spoken.” Brandy ruffled Dylan’s hair with one hand and shook out the folded report card with her other. “Let’s see what we have here.”

Dylan opened his mouth, but Brandy put a finger to his lips.

“I need to concentrate,” she said.

He giggled and went back to where Alator sat. The wolf hadn’t moved a muscle and Brandy marveled over how still he could remain. As if he had all the time in the world to just watch.

What is he looking for?

Because, call her crazy, Alator did seem to be looking for something.

Shaking her head, she focused on Dylan’s report card. Ah, hell. Performance report.

A smile bloomed on her face as she took in all the “above average” ratings Dylan had received. Oh, Diane. You’d be so proud. If only her sister could be there to enjoy this fabulous boy she had brought into the world.

Something nudged her knee and she moved the performance report to look at Alator sitting in front of her, his head tilted as if he were about to speak to her.

“What’s up, big boy?”

“He’s wondering why you’re crying.” Dylan blinked up at her. “So am I. Aren’t you happy about my performance report?”

“Oh, honey.” She bent and gathered Dylan in a tight squeeze. “I couldn’t be prouder. You’ve done a wonderful job.”

“Then why do you look so sad?” Now he looked sad.

Dammit.

“I was wishing your mother were here to see what you’ve become.” Brandy held him out at arm’s length. “She’d be so impressed.”

Dylan chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “Are you impressed?”

“Of course.” She waved the report card. Shit. Performance report. “This is amazing. You are amazing.”

“Like my real mom? She was amazing too, right?”

Every now and then Dylan asked questions about Diane, but for the most part, he treated Brandy as his mom. End of story.

“Your real mom was the best sister a gal could hope for.”

“You miss her?” Dylan’s hands found their way into the fluffier fur around Alator’s neck.

The wolf didn’t move as the boy sought comfort from the creature. Brandy wanted to do the same, and she could have sworn Alator’s green-gold eyes were telling her to take whatever she wanted from him.

But that was silly.

“I miss Diane. All the time,” Brandy said. “But...” She held up a finger and pointed it at Dylan. “She left a piece of her behind that I get to enjoy every single day.”

Dylan slid his arms around her waist. “Thank you for being my mom now.”

“Oh, honey.” Brandy locked her arms around Dylan’s shoulders and kissed the top of his blond head. “It’s my pleasure.” They hugged for a few more moments then she backed up a step to look at Dylan’s face. “Where did that come from?”

He shrugged in that way ten-year old boys had mastered. “I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking about it lately.”

“Okay.” She studied him a bit longer and realized he really was growing up fast. “Well, maybe I should thank you for letting me be your mom.”

A tiny grin turned up his mouth. “Don’t mention it. And if I become President some day, I’ll give you a big room in the White House with space for all these wolves.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise, kiddo. Here, go show Gram your report card.” She folded it back up and slid it into the envelope.

“Performance report.” Dylan giggled as he took it and picked up his backpack.

“Whatever.” She watched him head for the library where Meredith would be hanging out at this time of day. “Hey, Dylan?”

He turned back toward her.

“You want to go for breakfast tomorrow morning? You know, to celebrate your geniusness and kickoff the summer?”

“Can I get the chocolate pancakes?” He arched a brow.

“Sure. Don’t tell Gram though. You know how she likes us to order the healthy ones.”

Dylan scrunched up his nose. “Those taste like Frisbees.”

“And how do you know what Frisbees taste like?”

“Alator told me.” He looked at the big wolf who had remained by Brandy’s side. “Right, boy?”

Alator let out a ruff that Brandy took to mean his agreement.

“What else has he told you?”

Because this wolf had secrets. In the time he’d been at Silver Moon, Brandy hadn’t been able to find out where he’d come from or how he’d ended up in the woods beyond her borders. She checked all her usual avenues, and no one had any information about a missing wolf.

Possibly he was a true wild wolf that had stumbled upon her sanctuary, but that was highly unlikely as wolves had been considered extinct from Vermont since the 1800s. Brandy always held out hope wolves would return to the state and had worked on campaigns to plan for the eventual return of the great canines.

Still, it was a long shot with more and more timberland getting cleared. At least her land was a safe place for wolves, and as long as she had air in her lungs and a heart beating in her chest, it would remain that way. Someday, if he wanted to, Dylan could continue the work they did at Silver Moon.

If he didn’t decide to be President of course.

****

The next morning, Brandy’s SUV bounced down the dirt driveway as she and Dylan went on their breakfast date. Reardon wished he could have joined them. Their moods had been so jovial, and he understood they were celebrating the boy’s learning success. A boy who took his studies seriously was definitely cause for merriment, and it had been a while since Reardon had been involved in any true merriment.

Besides, everything was better with Brandy and Dylan. In the time he’d spent at Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary, Reardon had grown quite fond of both of them. He’d learned quite a bit about the Wendon family. About their dedication to one another. About their superior work ethic. About their deep concern for all things nature.

About the love that was a tangible presence on that sanctuary every single day.

Reardon had never been part of such a community. His own family had barely been functional. He’d been born out of wedlock to the town strumpet. His mother hadn’t been able to tell him who his father was with any certainty when he was a small boy. She’d pointed out several big, strapping lads when they were in town—ones that looked as if they could have carried stallions on their shoulders—and said, “Aye, he could be your father.” She’d said that so many times he’d stopped listening.

It didn’t matter anyway. He hadn’t needed a father. He’d had his mother and a younger brother—also a bastard child—and that had been family enough. He grew up quickly and discovered his size made him good at one thing and one thing only—fighting. He started out getting into small scrapes for the fun of it. Poking at trouble here. Throwing a punch there. If an altercation was happening somewhere, Reardon had a gift for sniffing it out. Literally. Raised levels of testosterone were easy to smell when you were part wolf.

Only he hadn’t known he was part wolf at the time. He believed he had a knack for being in the right place at the right time for a fight. Then one day, he came home with a terrible fever from the job he had helping a local blacksmith. His entire body ached. His very bones felt strange. His mother took one look at him and her usually smiling lips formed a grim line.

“I know who your father is.”

“I care not, Mother. I’ve told you this.” He shivered and yet his skin was clammy, his cheeks burning.

“You will care.”

Her response was cryptic, but he was too ill to make much of it. He barely heard the door to their cottage open and close. His mother was gone for what had seemed like forever while he wavered between feeling icy and fiery. His throat grew incredibly dry and an all-over itch crawled along inside his veins. He was quite certain death was near. Jaemus watched him with wary eyes from across the room as if he didn’t want to catch whatever plagued Reardon.

When his mother returned, she wasn’t alone.

“Reardon.” Her voice sounded far away, tinny. “Wake up, lad.”

He forced up his heavy eyelids and regarded his mother through fevered vision. Her image wavered as his stomach pitched. A looming shadow behind her barely registered in his mind.

“This is Zian McDade,” his mother said. “He will take care of you now.”

Before Reardon could protest, that looming shadow became a hulking man bending down and scooping him off his bed.

“Aye, I will help you with the transition, lad.” The man’s voice rumbled in the small room.

Transition? Reardon didn’t get the chance to voice his questions because his mother’s crying squeezed at his heart. She was a promiscuous woman, but she loved her boys.

“Don’t be afraid, son. Zian knows what to do.” She gripped his hand. “You will see me and Jaemus again. I promise.”

A soft kiss on his forehead and his mother turned into a retreating shape as Zian carried him out of the cottage. The hard wooden bottom slammed into his back when the mountain of a man deposited him into the back of a horse-drawn wagon.

“Where are you taking me?” he managed to choke out.

Zian paused. “A safe place.” Without elaboration, the man climbed onto the wagon, clicked his tongue once, and guided the horses out of the town, away from people, away from his mother, his brother, the life he knew.

They rode for most of the night from what Reardon could tell. He wavered in and out of consciousness, but when the wagon finally halted, he sat up and looked around. Trees stretched out in every direction and the night was pitch black.

And yet, Reardon was able to see perfectly. The details of tree bark were crystal clear. Each feather on a night owl perched high on a branch was visible. The stars were touchable so great was their clarity.

“What is this place?” The question came out on a whisper.

Zian helped him out of the wagon. “It is our sacred space.”

“Our?” Reardon’s legs wobbled and his head swayed.

“I am part of a brethren as old as these trees.” Zian spread his arms out to encompass the woods surrounding them. “A brethren of special men.”

“What does this have to do with me?” Reardon put his hands on his head to stop the spinning. It didn’t work. “I’m nothing special. I’m no one.”

Zian shook his head, a mane of black hair swishing around his shoulders. “You are my son. My Seventh Son, more specifically.”

Reardon’s eyes widened. “You have seven sons?”

“I do and you are my last. Born under the December full moon, you are like me.”

“Like you?” They both had black hair, odd green-gold eyes, and physiques larger than average, but Reardon didn’t know anything about Zian McDade. How could anyone know if they were alike?

They were strangers.

“Close your eyes,” Zian said.

Reardon shook his head and immediately regretted it. His stomach pitched and he was certain anything he’d ever eaten was on its way out.

“Trust me, lad.” Zian put his hands on Reardon’s shoulders and suddenly the woods stopped spinning. “Close your eyes.”

Reardon did as he’d been told, still not sure he should trust Zian. The man had discarded his mother. What made Reardon think he wouldn’t do the same to him? Alike or not, this man hadn’t been a true father. He wasn’t family. He was just a strange man who’d brought him out into the woods while he was ill. Not a stellar start to a father-son relationship.

As he stood there with his eyes closed, an image flashed into his mind. An image of a great black wolf with eyes like his own—eyes also like Zian’s. Reardon was scared at first. The beastie looked capable of tearing him to bits, but as it ran closer, its muscular legs rippling beneath that shiny black coat, he had the undeniable sense that he... that he knew this wolf.

“You see it, lad, don’t you?” Zian’s voice was calm.

Reardon cleared his throat, but his voice was still scratchy. “Aye.”

“It is your wolf form, Reardon. Let it come to you.”

“Wolf form? I-I don’t understand.” He started to open his eyes, but Zian’s voice stopped him.

“Keep your eyes closed. Accept your fate, and I will guide you.”

Reardon’sheart pounded against his ribs as the huge black wolf approached at a frightening speed. What would the beast do when it reached him?

He didn’t want to know.

Opening his eyes, he stumbled back when the wolf disappeared.

Zian let out a growl—one that hadn’t sounded quite human. “You are more like me than you know. I didn’t let it reach me either.”

“What would happen if it did?” Would the wolf bite him? Would it become a part of him? Would he die? He had so many questions.

“You would have had a smooth transition.” With a sympathetic expression on his face, Zian turned and walked deeper into the woods. “Now you’ll have to follow me.”

Reardon considered climbing into Zian’s wagon and going back home, but he didn’t think he could make the journey. He still felt weak, as if his insides wanted to become his outsides. He’d been with Zian for hours now and the man hadn’t hurt him. That didn’t mean Reardon trusted him, but he didn’t not trust the man either.

His feet moved in Zian’s direction. Soon a clearing came into view. In the center, a huge stone slab was illuminated by the full moon’s light. Around the stone, several large men stood, their faces grim and the shadows making them appear ghastly.

“Is he why you’ve called the brethren?” one of the men asked.

“Aye. He’s my son. He’s one of us.” Zian put a hand on Reardon’s shoulder. “He opened his eyes.”

Curses had colored the night air while the men shook their heads. Reardon had never heard such language.

“Why give us the option when most of us are not able to keep our eyes closed?” another man asked.

“Flidae likes her fun,” Zian said. “Let’s initiate the lad ourselves. He’s got the fever now.”

Before Reardon had time to react, the men were on him, dragging him to the stone slab, tying him down, chanting. He struggled against them, but there were too many of them and they were too strong.

Then the chanting changed to snarls.

“Hey, Alator.”

Reardon’s entire wolf body jumped at the sound of Meredith’s voice. He turned his head to see her walking toward her car in the driveway.

“Did I scare you, buddy?” She bent down, her hand held out to summon him. “I didn’t think one could scare a wolf. Learn something every day, I guess.”

He shook off the memory of his first change from human to wolf and trotted toward Meredith. Her hand running over his coat did wonders to bring him back to the present and bury the horrors of that night in the woods. During his stay at Silver Moon Sanctuary, he’d come to appreciate the motherly role Meredith played so well. She never failed to throw some maternal attention his way, which he greatly appreciated.

After he’d met Zian, he’d never seen his own mother again, despite her promises that they would be reunited. It wasn’t her fault though. He’d been the one to stay away.

“I’m heading to the grocery store, Alator. Got to get some healthy stuff for my sweet-toothed brood. Brandy and Dylan would bathe in sugar if I didn’t pay attention.” She chuckled and gave him a final pat. “Be back in a few. You’ve got things under control, don’t you?”

Reardon angled his head at her, wishing he could talk to her using words. Instead he pushed his nose into her hand and let out a short ruff.

“I thought so.” She waved and climbed into her car.

Reardon watched her leave as he’d watched Brandy and Dylan. For the first time since he’d arrived, there were no humans at Silver Moon Sanctuary.

He ran past Lug and Bele who were sunning themselves nearby. When he got to the clinic, he glanced around to find only the trees watching him. He shifted to human form and drew in a deep breath. Gods, he hadn’t been in human form in two weeks. His legs actually felt shaky, his muscles tight, his beard wild and unruly.

Lifting a hand, he turned the knob on the clinic door and sent a thank you to the gods that it was unlocked. He stepped inside and marveled at how different the large room looked from his human height. He was so used to trotting around at counter-top level that he’d never gotten a proper look at the clinic. It was neat and orderly and somehow cozy despite the strange equipment he’d seen Brandy and Parker use to keep him and the other wolves at the sanctuary healthy.

The advances in medicine that had been made since the time he’d come from were remarkable. It’d taken him the full two weeks to understand how humans lived in Brandy’s time. Cars instead of horses and wagons. Lights instead of candles and torches. Stoves, ovens, and microwaves instead of fires in hearths. It was all so amazing, and he rather liked the way of life these humans enjoyed.

Scanning the clinic now, he found a pair of Parker’s scrubs often worn when the veterinarian tended to the wolves. Reardon slid them on to cover his very naked body then set about looking in drawers and cabinets. In Brandy’s desk drawer, he located a nice stash of money which he stuffed in a pocket. He’d overheard Dylan asking for money when he wanted to buy a comic book and understood that one could acquire things with it. The first things he would acquire would be better garments because Parker’s scrubs were... snug.

After finding the bathroom and a pair of scissors, he used the reflective glass in the room to tidy his beard and hair as best he could. Both had become unruly because he’d been in wolf form for so long. He located a pair of work boots by the clinic door that were a little tight but tolerable and he walked back outside. Staring at the tire tracks Meredith and Brandy had made on their departures, Reardon kneeled down and sniffed the imprints. He could easily follow them. Both women had mentioned going “into town,” so he figured town would be the place to acquire more suitable clothes and perhaps find Brandy.

Because he could wait no longer for her meet his human form.

Chapter Seven

“I’m so full.” Brandy felt positively round after the breakfast she and Dylan had wolfed down.

“Me too.” Dylan patted his belly. “They make the best chocolate pancakes.”

Brandy slung her arm around Dylan’s shoulders. “If you buzz around like a rabid bee later due to your horrific sugar intake during that breakfast, I don’t want to hear about it.”

“I’ll run it off with Alator. He’s always in the mood for a chase game.”

That was true. That wolf did anything Dylan suggested. The boy had a few school friends, but otherwise spent his free time with Brandy, Meredith, Parker, or alone.

Until Alator showed up.

Dylan had always liked hanging out with the sanctuary’s wolves, but this bond with Alator was completely different. It was almost as if boy and wolf could anticipate each other’s needs and fill them without much effort. Brandy had once read an article about how soul mates didn’t have to mean two people in love. It could also mean finding something in someone else that completed you in some way. Dylan and Alator appeared to do that for each other.

“Can we go to the pet store?” Dylan asked as he avoided stepping on any of the sidewalk cracks beside her now.

“The pet store? What for?” Brandy couldn’t think of any supplies the sanctuary needed at the moment.

Dylan shrugged his left shoulder. “I have some allowance money saved and I want to buy a surprise for Alator.”

Brandy smiled. “Well, that’s a nice thought, kiddo. Okay. Let’s go.”

Dylan grabbed her hand and they walked across the street from the breakfast place toward Pete’s Pet Paradise. The day was warming up to a toasty eighty degrees and Brandy drew in a deep breath of flowered air. Big pots of bright red geraniums hung from the rustic lampposts lining Main Street in the center of Canville. Red, white, and blue decorations adorned many of the shops along this main artery of the small town in preparation for the Fourth of July parade in two weeks. Brandy, Dylan, and Meredith loved this event and set up lawn chairs on the route every year. They usually hooked up with Parker and ate a picnic lunch complete with Brandy’s favorite part—blueberry pie.

“I can’t wait for the parade,” Dylan said as if reading Brandy’s thoughts.

“Nothing better than fireworks on a hot summer night.”

Dylan held up his fists then splayed his fingers out quickly as he arced his hands over his head. “Boom! Sizzle! Crash! The finale is the best part.”

“Agreed.” Although Brandy’s mind did wander to having someone to hold her and kiss her during the fireworks... maybe setting off fireworks inside her. That’d be nice for a change.

Sighing softly so Dylan wouldn’t ask her what was bothering her, she followed him to the pet store and he pulled open the door. They entered, enjoying the cool breeze from the store’s air conditioning.

“Ah, the Wendons,” Pete said as he looked up from the binder he had open at the register. “How are Canville’s wolf people?”

“Stuffed,” Brandy said.

“Eat breakfast at Rosie’s?” Pete nodded toward the diner across the street.

“Eat isn’t the right word,” Brandy said. “More like feast.”

“Like wild animals,” Dylan added with a giggle.

“Hanging around with those wolves too much.” Pete, a big bear of a man, came around the counter and pretended to spar with Dylan for a few minutes before giving Brandy a hug.

She always felt tiny next to Pete, which was an unexpected feeling. At five feet eight inches, Brandy didn’t feel tiny often.

“How are you, Pete?” She stepped back to look up at his round, bearded face.

“Great. Business is always good in the summer with locals and more tourists hanging around.” Pete gestured to the customers milling about the store. “Are you doing any tourist events at Silver Moon?”

“The July Full Moon Wolf Walk at the end of the month and then the Growls and Grub Picnic at the sanctuary in August.” Both events had brought in tons of cash for the sanctuary in the past and had become annual summer events in Canville for locals and tourists alike. They were simple enough to orchestrate and Brandy always managed to nab a few dedicated donors who would support Silver Moon throughout the year. She received federal funding through her continued research efforts and liaison with the university, but these events allowed her to do the little extras that made the sanctuary the success it was.

“You put me and Pearl down for both and you know Pearl will be happy to help out foodwise.”

Brandy put her hand on Pete’s forearm. “You two have VIP reservations. Always.”

“Excellent.” Pete turned to look for Dylan who had wandered deeper into the store. “What are you two shopping for today?”

“We have a new wolf at the sanctuary and Dylan wants to get him a surprise.” Brandy lowered her voice. “With his own allowance money.”

“Aww. He’s a great kid, Brandy. You’ve done a right good job with him. Done your sister proud.” He squeezed her shoulder.

“Thanks, Pete.” Her throat tightened. She often imagined Diane looking down at her and wondered if she approved of Brandy’s parenting. It was nice to hear someone say she was doing it right.

“Excuse me, sir?” a small voice asked.

“Duty calls.”

Pete tended to the customer as Brandy found Dylan by the more rugged dog toys. A tall, broad-shouldered man was in the aisle as well. His hands were stuffed into the front pockets of his blue jeans, and a hunter green T-shirt stretched across a fit chest.

Very fit.

Brandy shook her head and focused on her son. “Find anything worthy of the regal Alator?” She could have sworn the man took a step closer.

Dylan had a thick, orange tire-like toy in one hand and a long, skinny tennis ball launcher in the other. “It’s between these two.” He held the items up to her. “The tire looks like it can stand up to his teeth and would be fun to roll around the field, but the tennis ball launcher would mean lots of running. Alator loves running.”

“Both good choices.” She could easily picture the wolf playing with either one if only to please the kid.

Dylan chewed on his lower lip and Brandy waited. She never rushed him when he was problem solving. He needed chances to work through decisions himself.

“I think I’ll go with the tire because it’s different. I can always throw a tennis ball like I already do. The tire might make him curious.”

“Stimulate his brain. Nice reasoning. Very scientific.”

Dylan beamed from ear to ear. He loved hearing that he thought like a scientist. “Okay. Let’s pay and get home to the big, bad wolf.”

Brandy accompanied him to the register where she added a few rope toys to their purchases, paid, and left after bidding Pete good-bye. As they walked past the diner and toward their SUV parked at the end of Main Street, Brandy caught sight of the tall man again. He must have exited Pete’s at the same time they had, but she hadn’t seen him in line behind them.

He leaned against one of the rustic lampposts, his muscled arms folded across his chest. A short, black beard lined his jaw and thick black hair sat a little wildly atop his head. His face was turned down toward the street so she couldn’t see his eyes, but the head-to-toe picture was pretty damn beautiful.

“Mom?” Dylan’s voice pulled her off the X-rated trail she’d been dancing down in her mind.

“What?” She looked down at him, forcing herself to continue walking toward the SUV.

“Should we get Gram something from the farmer’s market?” He pointed to the town square where locals set up booths to sell their wares on Saturdays. She’d gone a few times herself to sell Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary items—T-shirts, sweatshirts, jewelry. Trinkets, really, but they got the sanctuary’s name out there and usually brought in more donations.

“Umm, looks as if she’s already getting herself something.” Brandy pointed to Meredith’s car parked several spaces up from their SUV.

Dylan handed the pet store bag to Brandy. “Can I go find her?”

“Sure. Just pay attention.”

He took off like an arrow. The beauty of living in Canville, Vermont was the safety the small town offered. Brandy rarely worried about danger when it came to letting Dylan wander away from her, but she did always remind him to be aware of his surroundings. She hoped he’d want to stay in Canville when he grew up, but knew he might choose to go away to college or something. She wanted to teach him that some places were safe, but it was always smart to pay attention and keep an eye out for trouble.

Watching him now, she laughed when he snuck up on Meredith and she whirled around in surprise. Her heart swelled as grandmother and grandson laughed together. When Dylan shook his head and patted his stomach, Brandy knew Meredith was offering to buy him food from the organic booth nearby.

Ugh. The notion of putting any more food in her own belly made her feel green. The strawberry and whipped cream she’d had on her enormous Belgian waffle at breakfast had tasted heavenly on the way down, but she’d have to run with the wolves through the woods for two days continuously to work it off.

Better than running on a treadmill. She did love a more natural workout regimen, though the very idea of running anywhere with her stomach still so full made her cringe.

Brandy took a step forward to join Dylan and Meredith, but something—some strange prickling of the skin on the back of her neck—stopped her. Instead, she slowly turned her head to look over her shoulder.

The tall man was on the sidewalk a mere few feet away.

Is he following us?

She looked back at Dylan and Meredith, wondering if she should collect them and get the hell out of there. When the man smiled, however, her feet became firmly rooted to the spot where she stood. She couldn’t have moved if someone set her shirt on fire.

Speaking of fire...

Good Lord, this man was gorgeous. She’d considered him attractive when she’d gotten a quick glimpse of him at Pete’s, but up close? Attractive didn’t do him justice.

He was... he was god-like.

That dark beard framed full lips that appeared capable of doing amazing things. His somewhat messy black hair looked extremely touchable and that green T-shirt hinted at a delicious view hiding beneath the cotton.

And his eyes. Oh, his eyes were this foresty green and amber mix that hypnotized Brandy. She’d never seen such an amazing shade of eye color on any human.

“Why are you following me?” Her cheeks immediately scorched over the way she’d blurted out the question. On the other hand, she was impressed with herself for getting to the point instead of asking him to rip off her clothes and ravage her right there on the town green.

He held up the orange tire toy. “You dropped this back there, lass.”

Holy hot Irish accent, Batman! His low voice made her insides shiver. Brandy could barely tear her eyes from the way his large hands gripped the toy. Large, capable, man hands that would no doubt be quite adept at finding all the right spots on her body. She nearly let loose the moan threatening to rumble out of her throat.

She peeked into the pet store bag Dylan had passed to her and sure enough, the tire toy was absent.

“It must have fallen out.” She held out her hand. “Thank you.”

This mysterious stranger nodded once and hung the toy around her wrist. “Aye. Looks wonderful with your outfit.” Again, his lips were turned up in a grin and that Belgian waffle had to make room for the butterflies fluttering around in her stomach.

She twisted her arm one way then the other as if showcasing the tire-toy-turned-bracelet, amazed at her ability to engage in a playful exchange when this guy was much too beautiful to actually talk to.

“Some lucky pup at home going to get that present?” He took a few steps closer, and Brandy felt something a little magnetic make her sway toward him. Shit, he was tall. Like six-foot-four-inches tall.

Get a hold of yourself, moron. She closed her eyes and mentally slapped her cheeks to bring herself back to planet Earth. Clearly she’d slipped into another dimension entirely.

Only when she opened her eyes, he was still standing there. He. Was. Real.

“Lass?”

“Umm, yeah.” She pulled the tire toy off her wrist and stuffed it into the pet store bag. “I mean, no. Not a dog. A wolf.”

The stranger’s eyebrows rose over those incredible eyes. “You make friends with wolves?”

“More than friends,” she said. “Wolves are part of my family.” She tapped the Silver Moon logo on her tank top. “I run a wolf sanctuary.”

“I see.” He slid his hands into his pockets. “And wolves like toys?” He smirked.

“Are you making fun of me, Mister...?”

“Reardon.” He dragged one of those fabulous hands back out of his pocket and extended it toward her. “And no. I’d never make fun of a beautiful lass I just met.”

What would he do to a beautiful lass then?

****

Reardon absolutely loved catching Brandy off guard like this. And she was off guard. She was downright wobbly on her long, lovely legs. He’d gotten so accustomed to looking up at her from all fours in his wolf form. Being able to tower over her right now was a moment to treasure. He’d known she wasn’t a wee lass, but from his height everyone was wee. If that color on her cheeks was any indication, she rather liked looking up at him too.

Of course she didn’t know it was him, but he could be patient. He could wait until the time was right or until perhaps she made the connection on her own. Was he so different in human form compared to his wolf form? He’d never thought so, but he was also inside his skin whether it be pink flesh or black fur. He didn’t have an accurate picture of how his two forms came across to others.

If he had to guess, though, Brandy liked his human form. He smelled her flowery scent mixed with arousal and interest. Her heart beat rapidly and if they were both wolves right now, Reardon was sure they’d be sniffing and sizing each other up.

Maybe Brandy was sizing him up anyway. Her eyes had definitely canvassed over him several times and he figured he’d made some appropriate clothing choices. The lass in the store he’d found had been most helpful which was good because he hadn’t been sure where to begin. The fellow at the barbershop had been more than cordial as well, giving Reardon’s beard and hair some much needed attention. When he’d looked at himself in the reflective glass in front of the chair, he could hardly believe what he saw. His beard had never been that neat, his hair never that short, but the barber assured him he resembled every other “twenty-first century American male.”

At least he knew when and where Flidae had sent him. Twenty-first century America. He’d had some trouble wrapping his head around the fact that it was the twenty-first century and he didn’t know where America was. The more time he spent in town, however, convinced him he was not against being in this time or this place.

In fact, he rather liked it. And the lass standing before him.

“Are you new in town?” Brandy asked.

“You could say that.”

“What brings you to Vermont?” She gathered that red mane of hair onto her left shoulder, causing the silky strands to shush and slither over the wolf logo on her shirt—a shirt that showcased the smooth skin of her shoulders and the muscles in her upper arms. He’d seen her lifting items at the sanctuary and had made note of those muscles before, but something about seeing them now, on display, made his very human parts tighten in his pants. Pants he wasn’t used to wearing. Pants made of a rough material the shopkeeper had called denim. He’d never worn anything like it and found the pants rather constricting.

Especially because Brandy was doing things to his body—things that required roomier garments to be sure.

“I suppose Fate has brought me to Vermont.” Fate. Flidae. What’s the difference? His actions had angered the goddess and she’d banished him. That could have easily been his destiny all along. Meeting Brandy felt like fulfilling destiny.

She studied him for a quiet moment, and he was certain she was about to question his response, but Dylan came running over.

“Mom?” He came to an abrupt stop beside her when he saw she was not alone.

Reardon longed to greet the boy—someone whose company he’d come to enjoy and seek out while at the sanctuary. It was hard to remember Dylan had no idea Reardon was the giant black wolf he’d been spending so much time with. Keeping his distance was difficult. In wolf form, he often nuzzled the boy. Touch was a big part of wolf communication. He had a feeling that touch in his human form would not be looked upon so favorably. One glance at Brandy and the protective arm she’d put along the boy’s shoulders said it all.

“You ready to go, kiddo?” She turned all her attention to Dylan, and Reardon hesitated between excusing himself or waiting for an introduction.

He decided he simply couldn’t leave boy or mother yet.

“Yeah. Gram has a few more ‘parcels to acquire.’” Dylan giggled, the sound so familiar to Reardon.

“Parcels to acquire?” Brandy shook her head. “Gram and her vocabulary.”

“I know. I told her it’s the summertime and we can speak like average people, but she said, ‘Why be average?’” Dylan shot Reardon a quick glance as if he was trying to see him without Reardon noticing. Werewolves, however, noticed everything.

“You know how Gram is.” Brandy smiled at Reardon and everything around him faded away. Nothing existed but her and Dylan and him. Gods, he wanted to tell her who he was.

But how do I do that without scaring her? And Dylan. He didn’t want to harm either one of them in any way.

Brandy wiggled the bag she carried. “This nice man found the toy we bought Alator. It must have fallen out of the bag.”

Dylan took the bag, peered inside, then looked at Reardon. “Thanks, mister. I bought that with my own money.”

“Did you now? Must be a special wolf to get a special gift like that.” A warmth started at the center of Reardon’s chest and spread outward, hitting every part of him. This boy had thought to buy him a gift with his own riches. Had anyone ever bought him a gift from the heart like that? Not that he could remember.

“Alator’s awesome.” Dylan angled his head and narrowed his eyes. “Your eyes are like his.”

That’s because they are his. “So I’ve got wolf eyes, do I?”

A little sound escaped from Brandy—a noise that resembled a moan. A noise that further tightened parts of Reardon’s body. Did she agree he had wolf eyes? Did she like that he had wolf eyes? If the increase in her breathing rate was any indication... well, aye, she did like it.

“Yeah,” Dylan said. “They’re the same color, don’t you think so, Mom?”

“Umm... yeah, I guess.” Brandy fiddled with the other bags she held. “We should probably get going.” She glanced up at Reardon. “The wolves are waiting.”

“Don’t let me delay you,” he said.

“Nice meeting you, Reardon.” She gave him a little smile, and his name coming from her lips made a flash of pure lust race through him.

“Likewise, lass.” He angled his head to Dylan. “Lad, have fun with your wolves. Hope that toy pleases.”

“Oh, it will. I know what Alator likes. He’s my best friend.”

Reardon wanted nothing more than to scoop up the boy and say the feeling was mutual, but he contained himself, gave a nod to Brandy, and somehow managed to walk away from them.

He didn’t get too far.

A terrible, intermittent rumble roared from somewhere, followed by a loud screeching. Reardon had never heard either noise before so he angled his head as he would have in wolf form to ascertain the source of the clamor. He snapped his attention to the street and though nothing was making that horrible sound there, his excellent hearing knew it was close by. After a few moments of listening, his sharp eyes settled on a vehicle spinning out of control and moving at an incredible speed. With its oversized wheels, the machine was bigger than Brandy’s SUV and Meredith’s smaller car.

Reardon shifted his gaze to where Brandy and Dylan were stepping off the curb on their way to the SUV.

Oh, Gods!

Didn’t they hear the screeching? Didn’t they see the vehicle hurtling down the road? Didn’t they...

No, they didn’t because the noise wasn’t as loud to them as it was to Reardon’s wolf-enhanced ears. No, they didn’t because the vehicle was at the beginning of the street. Brandy and Dylan were toward the end and the street had a hill in the middle big enough to conceal what was coming.

If he didn’t get to them right now, it’d be too late.

Reardon took off at a run, his long legs able to cover the area quickly. In a matter of seconds, he was grabbing both Brandy and Dylan around their waists, hoisting them off their feet, and toting them to an area clear of the street and the whirlwind movements of the approaching vehicle. He tumbled to the grassy ground with both of them and they all landed in a heap.

Dylan was the first to get back on his feet, but Brandy was right behind him, her mouth open and ready to deliver what Reardon was certain would be a scolding. When she caught sight of the speeding vehicle, however, her eyes widened as her mouth hung open.

The three of them stared—along with other people who now saw the disaster about to unfold—as the wayward vehicle slammed into Brandy’s SUV. Glass exploded. Metal crumpled. More screeches filled the air. Everything happened in slow motion. Reardon was sure he could actually see glass shards suspended in the air and fiery sparks hovering.

Brandy stood there, a shocked expression on her face, as her SUV went from perfectly intact to tragically disfigured.

“Our car!” Dylan shouted, his hands going to his head.

Brandy looked down at Reardon still on the ground but sitting now, his elbows resting on his knees. “Our lives,” she said so quietly Reardon almost didn’t hear her. “You...you saved our lives.”

The way her blue eyes zeroed in on him made his heart kick wildly against his ribs. “I’m sorry I threw you to the ground though, lass.” He indicated the streak of green on her shorts from hitting the grass.

She rubbed at it, but didn’t take her gaze off him. “These aren’t my favorite shorts anyway.” A small, shaky smile formed on her lips, and again Reardon wanted desperately to reveal himself to her. To hold her. To comfort her.

“We could have been roadkill.” Dylan put his arms around Brandy’s waist and pressed his head against her chest.

Brandy’s arms came around the boy. “But we’re not. Thanks to Reardon. How did you get to us so fast? How did you know that truck was coming? I didn’t even hear or see it until it was so close.”

Reardon got to his feet and brushed off his pants. The knuckles of his left hand had gotten scraped and fresh blood smeared over them. He shook his hand out, letting some blood drip to the grass.

Brandy released Dylan and dug through her purse, extracting several tissues and handing them to him.

“Thanks.” He took them and pressed them to his knuckles, the warmth of his own blood seeping through the tissue. Typical of him to be shedding blood. He did it so well.

Dylan pointed behind them. “Want me to go to the pharmacy and get some bandages?”

“Yes.” Brandy stuck her hand in her purse again and pulled out some money which she handed to Dylan. The boy took off, leaving Reardon and Brandy alone on the grass.

Well, as alone as they could be with a good portion of the town watching them.

Brandy realized they were being watched at the same time. She turned to face them and waved. “We’re okay, folks. Did someone check the driver of the truck?”

Reardon hadn’t worried about the other driver. His mind had been focused only on Brandy and Dylan. On getting to them. On making sure nothing happened to them.

“I called 911, but there’s nobody driving it,” one of the townspeople called back.

“Nobody driving it?” Brandy walked toward the truck impaled in the side of her SUV.

Reardon instinctively followed, not wanting her to get anywhere near the wreck. Sure enough, no one was behind the wheel. A quick look around didn’t reveal that a driver had been thrown from the truck either.

Brandy frowned but turned her attention back to Reardon. “How could there be no driver?”

He was about to reply, but another loud noise cut through the air. A moment later, several vehicles screamed in with flashing lights. Suddenly people in various uniforms exited the vehicles and climbed all over the scene of the accident.

Brandy tugged him by the forearm over to one of the vehicles and got the attention of a uniformed person. “His knuckles need some attention.”

“I’m fin—”

“No, you’re getting checked.” She gave him a stern look—one he’d seen her give Dylan when she was mothering the boy. He almost laughed aloud that she would dare mother him. If she only knew he was a fierce warrior who had lost copious amounts of blood on the battlefield repeatedly and had still survived. If only she knew he was a werewolf who would heal quickly.

Dylan came running over with his purchased bandages, but got sidetracked by one of the uniformed people who he obviously knew.

An efficient woman examined his knuckles, applied something cold and slick to them, then covered them with a soft, white wrapping. “These cuts aren’t too deep. Should heal up quickly.”

Reardon nodded then looked for Brandy in the nearby crowd. He found her talking to a man in a dark uniform. He wore a belt around his waist from which various instruments hung. They looked like modern battle instruments to Reardon so perhaps this man was a warrior of some kind.

When he came to stand near Brandy, she turned to him and gestured to the man. “This is Sheriff Olsen. Sheriff, Reardon...” She raised eyebrows, wanting a last name he figured, but he wasn’t going to give her one. Not yet.

“Sheriff.” Reardon shook the man’s extended hand.

“Nice save I hear.” The sheriff gave him a nod, but Reardon saw the untrusting look in the officer’s eyes.

“Fantastic save,” Brandy said. “If Reardon hadn’t scooped us up, we would have been the cream filling to that vehicle sandwich over there.” She arrowed her thumb over her shoulder, and Reardon picked up on the shiver that rippled through her body. “There’s no driver though.”

The sheriff shook his head. “No, but one of my guys found this. Stuck through the accelerator, pinning it to the floor of the truck.” He held up a wicked-looking blade inside a plastic bag. The handle was silver with intricate knotwork coursing over it.

Celtic knotwork.

Reardon’s stomach pitched. It was a blade fit for gods... or goddesses.

Chapter Eight

Brandy took the bag from Sheriff Olsen and turned the dagger around to inspect it from all sides. She’d never seen anything like it in real life. Sure, she’d seen pictures of blades like this one in the Celtic books she used when naming her wolves, but she’d never actually held one.

“This doesn’t look like anything from around here.” She handed it back to Sheriff Olsen.

“You can get anything on the internet these days.” The sheriff rolled his eyes and passed the dagger to one of his officers.

“Why would someone send a truck into the green like that?” Brandy rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms. Though the hot sun still beamed down on her, a chill had seeped under her skin.

I almost died. Worse than that thought was the fact that Dylan almost died. It would have sucked if that had been the last time she’d ever crossed a street, but Dylan? No. That boy had a long and happy life coming to him, and he was going to have it.

Thanks to Reardon.

Brandy looked at him now, standing quietly beside her, his hand wrapped, but not looking any worse for wear after rescuing them. When something grabbed her around the waist and whisked her onto the grass, she’d been ready to put up a fight. She wasn’t used to being manhandled. She wasn’t used to being handled at all. The last man to touch her had been Hank and she was still furious about that.

Hank.

She grabbed Sheriff Olsen’s forearm. “Do you think it was Hank Swift?”

“He was certainly the first suspect to pop into my head, if that truck was targeting you specifically, that is,” the sheriff said. “We’ll check it out, Brandy.” His gaze shifted to Reardon. “How long have you been in town...Reardon, was it?”

Brandy shook her head. “He saved us, Sheriff. Don’t go getting all suspicious of the new guy.”

“Can’t help it. Suspicious is in my nature.” He narrowed his eyes at Reardon.

“Give me a call if you find out anything pertaining to Hank,” Brandy said.

“Will do.” With one more glance at Reardon, Sheriff Olsen joined his officers at the scene.

Brandy turned to Reardon, about to tell him not to worry about Olsen, but Meredith pushed through the crowd of onlookers, a wild look on her face.

“My God, are you all right?” She didn’t wait for an answer, but dropped her bags to the ground and yanked Brandy into the tightest hug ever. “Where’s Dylan? Is he...? He’s not...?” She stepped back from Brandy and swiveled in a circle.

“I’m right here, Gram.” Dylan ran over and burrowed into the embrace. The three of them stood like that for a few moments.

“I only saw your SUV,” Meredith said through tears. “I thought you were both gone. I thought the universe had taken everything from me.”

“Nah,” Brandy said around a tight throat. “The universe says you’re stuck with us.”

Meredith released them and wiped her eyes and cheeks. “Good. I want to be stuck with both of you. For as long as possible.”

“I guess you need to give us a ride home, Gram.” Dylan pointed to their crushed SUV currently being doused with water by some firemen.

“Are you sure neither of you needs medical attention?” Meredith narrowed her eyes at both of them.

“No, we’re fine because of...” She turned around, but Reardon wasn’t where she had last seen him. Where had he gone? She wasn’t done thanking him. She... she owed him. Her life. Dylan’s life. Dinner at least.

“Who are you looking for, honey?” Meredith asked.

“Reardon.” Dylan looked around. “He’s like a superhero!”

“He’s the one who pushed us out of the way.” Brandy got on her tiptoes and scanned the crowd, a hollow feeling coming over her when she didn’t see him. Had he walked away because of the sheriff’s suspicions? That wouldn’t do. She couldn’t have him believing they thought he’d caused the accident.

He was their savior.

When she caught sight of his crop of black hair heading away from the scene, she turned back to Meredith. “Watch Dylan for a minute. I think I see him.”

Meredith nodded and coaxed Dylan toward her car. “We’ll wait for you.”

Brandy took off, pushing her way through the crowd as they all tried to talk to her. She had to get to Reardon. She couldn’t lose sight of him. She was almost desperate to stop him from leaving, which was stupid because she didn’t even know him. He was this stranger who’d prevented their untimely deaths. This beautiful stranger who felt so familiar.

“Reardon!” she called out.

He faltered in his fast gait for a moment then turned around. Dylan was right. The man did have eyes like Alator’s. Inhumanly gorgeous eyes that went with an inhumanly gorgeous body.

She jogged to catch up to him, wanting very much to feel his arm around her waist again, to be in a tangle of limbs with him on the grass again.

What? She shook her head and focused on his face, which didn’t in any way get her thoughts out of the gutter.

“Where are you going?” she asked instead of voicing all the demands circulating in her head. Take off your clothes. Take off my clothes. Kiss me. Touch me. Make me cry your name over and over again.

“Just being on my way, lass. You and the boy are fine, aye?” He rubbed a big hand over his beard and the bristly sound made Brandy quake with need. This guy was definitely not like Chella’s cousin, Marshall. He wasn’t like Parker either.

He was different. Sexy different. Mysteriously different.

“We are fine, but we also have manners, and we simply can’t have you go unthanked.”

“But you did thank me. Back there.” He pointed to the scene where the townspeople were disbanding now that the show was over.

“Not properly.” She frowned. “I don’t know that we can ever properly thank you. I mean, you risked your own safety for us, a couple of strangers. Who does that nowadays?”

“I do. Apparently.” He smiled and his face became more of a work of art.

“And you should be rewarded. Let me make you dinner tonight. It doesn’t even begin to make up for what you did for my son and me, but it’s something. You can meet our wolves too.” It scared Brandy how much she wanted him to accept her invitation.

Reardon stared past her for a moment, some internal struggle happening in his mind if his tight jaw was any indication. When his green-gold gaze met hers again, however, another smile graced his lips. “Dinner sounds wonderful.”

Brandy had to remind herself not to jump for joy like a lunatic. Instead she clapped her hands. “Great. Is seven o’clock okay?”

He nodded once.

“Super. You’re not a vegetarian or anything, are you?”

His laugh boomed, deep and melodious. “Most assuredly not. I like meat.” Something flared in his eyes over the word meat, and Brandy had a sudden urge to slather herself in barbecue sauce.

“Okay. Tonight then.” She hunted in her purse for one of her business cards and handed it to Reardon. “The sanctuary’s address is on there.”

“Seven o’clock.” He took the card, glanced at it, then shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans.

“See you then.”

“Aye.”

She knew she should walk away now. Their conversation was done. She’d see him later. Time to get back to the sanctuary. She had stuff to do. Reardon probably did too.

But the two of them stood there for a few quiet seconds just looking at one another.

Then a horn beeped, cutting into the frozen moment. Brandy looked over her shoulder at where Meredith’s car was parked. Her mom and Dylan were seated inside, waiting for her.

She hesitated, wishing seven o’clock wasn’t so far away. Another horn beep knocked her out of the trance.

“Okay. Bye.” She waved and forced herself to head toward Meredith’s car. Not able to resist the urge, she peeked over her shoulder to find Reardon still rooted to his spot. Man, he knew how to make a basic green T-shirt look amazing. His long legs in those jeans didn’t go unnoticed either. The bandage around his knuckles gave him a badass edge too, as if he wasn’t afraid to find some trouble and go up against it.

Shaking her head, she opened the passenger door to Meredith’s car and hopped in. When she looked back to Reardon, he was gone.

But you’ll see him later. If he came. Ugh. What if he didn’t show up tonight? Maybe he’d only agreed to her invitation to get rid of her. Maybe he had no intention of coming to dinner. Maybe she was absolutely ridiculous for suggesting he dine with them.

Maybe she was overreacting.

“Was that him?” Meredith asked.

“Yeah.”

“Wow. I know I’m an old lady, but hubba-hubba.” She fanned herself and winked at Brandy.

“What’s hubba-hubba mean, Gram?” Dylan asked from the back seat.

“It means he looks like a fine young gentleman.” She started the car.

“I invited him to dinner,” Brandy blurted then swiveled in her seat to face Dylan. “You know, to thank him.”

Meredith let out a little snicker while Dylan nodded.

“Good. I want him to meet Alator so he can see what I meant about their eyes being the same.” He settled back in his seat and took out the tire toy. “Maybe he’ll want to play with us.”

“Of course he’ll want to play with you.” Meredith glanced at him in her rearview mirror. “Who wouldn’t want to play with a cool kid like you and a wild wolf?”

Dylan grinned and returned the toy to the bag as Brandy turned back to look out the front window.

“And when he’s done playing with the kid and his wolf,” Meredith whispered, “he can give someone his own age a try.” She elbowed Brandy then said, “Hey, Dylan, how about if you camp out in my cabin tonight? It is the first official day of summer and Mom got to take you out to breakfast. Now it’s my turn to celebrate with you.”

“Okay! We still have two X-Men movies left in our marathon too.”

“That we do.” She raised an eyebrow at Brandy. “So we’ll be very busy tonight. Very busy.”

Brandy’s cheeks blazed. Her mother was greenlighting her to seduce a complete stranger. Granted, he was a hot complete stranger, but she didn’t know the first thing about seduction. She hung out with wolves all day for Christ’s sake. She only knew about getting wolves to like her.

Would the same strategies work on a man like Reardon?

****

Reardon walked at a brisk pace, knowing he had to get away from town, shift, and return to the sanctuary before Brandy, Dylan, and Meredith got there. He’d planned to run into Brandy in town, but he hadn’t planned on needing to save her life or Dylan’s.

I know it was you, Flidae.

“Do you now?”

Reardon jumped when a beautiful, raven-haired woman appeared in front of him. Her form was transparent, so he knew she wasn’t really there, but her ghostly presence still unsettled him.

“It is one thing to punish me for what I’ve done,” he said through clenched teeth. “It is something else entirely to endanger innocent people.”

“Innocent people who mean something to you, wolf.” Flidae pointed to him. “I wanted to see how far you were willing to go for them. You scored high marks on my little test.”

“You could have just asked me. I would have told you how much Brandy and Dylan mean to me. They’ve taken me in. They’ve cared for me. Made me part of their family.”

“Which is a great deal better than how some of your men have fared.” Flidae ran her slender fingers through her dark hair, fiddling with the ends. The smirk on her face let him know she enjoyed toying with him.

Reardon took a step closer, his fists clenching, which hurt his still healing knuckles. “What does that mean? Are my men in trouble?”

“Some of them are. Not everyone landed upon such fortunate circumstances as you, wolf.”

“But trying to kill Brandy and Dylan is not a fair way to get back at me, Flidae. Leave them out of this. They have nothing to do with what I did to my men or how I disrespected you.”

Flidae clapped her hands. “At least you now recognize what you did to deserve my banishment. You make progress, wolf. There is hope for you yet. And tests like this one entertain me. Being an eternal goddess does get tiresome. I must find ways to amuse myself.”

Before Reardon could remind her again to stay away from Brandy and Dylan, something flickered in Flidae’s violet eyes. Something like loneliness.

Reardon opened his mouth to question her, but her apparition dissipated into a mist that coiled around him then disappeared altogether.

What if she hurt Brandy and Dylan again with her tests? What if he wasn’t around to offer protection?

“I’ll be around.” He wouldn’t leave their sides. Starting right now.

After purchasing more clothes for this evening, a bottle of wine to take to dinner, and the tennis ball launcher he’d seen Dylan pick up in the pet store, Reardon darted into the woods that bordered town. Sprinting toward the sanctuary, he toted the goods with him, wishing he could shift and move faster. He had to make it back to Silver Moon before the Wendons did, but he also needed to stow these purchases close by so he could get to them for tonight.

When he was at the perimeter of the sanctuary, he navigated through the woods—carefully so as to avoid any traps—until he found a rocky outcropping. He hid his wares then peeled off the clothes he wore and stuffed them under the rocks too. Completely naked, he approached the entrance gates, unlatched them, and slipped back inside. He shifted back to wolf form and heard the crunch of tires on gravel only moments later.

Meredith’s car pulled up to the gates, and Dylan hopped out of the back seat to unlatch them. The car rolled in, and the boy closed and latched the gates again.

Reardon sat on his haunches as if he’d been waiting for their return. He didn’t go unnoticed by the boy.

“Hey, buddy.” Dylan held out his hand, summoning Reardon to his side.

Reardon didn’t have to be asked twice. He trotted over and immediately pushed his head into the boy’s legs, doing exactly what he’d wanted to do when he’d seen Dylan in town. He couldn’t stop his tail from wagging now that he could freely show his affection for the boy.

“Whoa. Easy, buddy. You’re going to knock me over. Did you miss us, Alator?” Dylan kneeled and cupped Reardon’s head in his hands. “You’re such a good boy. I got you a present. Want to see?”

Reardon let out a short bark, feeding off the boy’s excitement and his own joy at knowing he’d helped keep Dylan alive. And he’d keep doing so. Flidae would not succeed in hurting this boy or his mother for her own entertainment. Reardon would make sure of it.

Because they did mean something to him.

He followed Dylan to the car where Brandy and Meredith were getting out and grabbing their bags. While Dylan buzzed around looking for the tire toy, Reardon took the opportunity to check on Brandy. He sidled up next to her, pushing his side into her thigh and looking up at her. If only he could shift and hold her as he wanted to.

Soon.

“Hey, Alator.” She ran her hand along his spine and the sensation made the man inside rage to get out. “Sorry we took so long getting back. We found a little excitement in town.” She rubbed his jagged ear then let her fingers trail down between his eyes and to his nose. Gods, he craved her touch.

She took a step toward her house, but Reardon got in front of her, not ready for her to leave yet. Was she truly fine? Had she gotten hurt when he’d brought them all to the grassy ground? His knuckles had healed on the run back to the sanctuary, but was she still rattled by the day’s events? What could he do to comfort her?

He licked her hand. It was all he could think of doing right now. He’d make use of his human form to comfort her later... if she’d let him.

Oh, how he hoped she’d let him.

“Love you too, Alator.” Brandy let out a little laugh that was music to Reardon’s ears. “I’ve got some things to do now though so why don’t you go see what Dylan has for you.” She nudged him away toward Dylan. “Go on. We’ll catch up later.”

She took a few steps toward the house then Dylan appeared, the tire toy triumphantly held aloft in his hands.

“Check it out, buddy!” He waved it in front of Reardon’s nose. “You want to play with me? Do you? Huh?” Dylan danced around the driveway then took off toward the field behind the clinic. “C’mon, Alator!”

Torn between following Brandy and chasing after Dylan, Reardon hesitated until Meredith came around the car.

“If you don’t run after that boy, he’ll be crushed. I’ll make sure Brandy’s okay. I am her mama after all.” Meredith gently pushed Reardon toward the direction Dylan had taken. “I’ve seen you moving around here. That leg of yours is healed. Go on. Go play.”

With one final look at Brandy now climbing her front steps, he took off toward Dylan. Play now, cuddle later. Sounded like a good plan. Besides, he needed to do something to burn off the energy—the sexual energy—swirling around inside him. Having his human form close to Brandy’s had brought his physical needs to the surface. If he didn’t tire himself out, he’d end up coming on way too strong at dinner.

And he couldn’t mess up dinner. It was the chance he wanted—to be with the Wendons as a human. He’d made them like him in wolf form. He could do the same for his human form. He had to because he didn’t think he could be without them. Brandy and Dylan were his something worthy, and though he didn’t care much about returning to his Ireland anymore, he did care about being exactly what they needed. He had to show them he was worthy of them. He’d made so many mistakes leading the fierce and brutal life he led as a warrior-for-hire.

Brandy and Dylan were his redemption. Even Flidae knew it.

He spent the afternoon running around the field with Dylan and the new tire toy. He wasn’t a common dog. He knew that, but seeing the delight on the boy’s face each time he chased after the toy and brought it back made him want to do absolutely anything Dylan suggested. Knowing the boy had bought the toy with his own money as a gift only made it that much better.

Finally, Brandy called for Dylan to come inside and wash up for dinner. Reardon took that as his reminder as well. He checked in with the other wolves, and finding them all to be fine and enjoying sanctuary life as they always did, he slipped to the gates. It wasn’t quite dark enough yet to shift so he glanced around. Finding no one but other wolves nearby, he backed up a few steps, broke into a run, and leaped over the gates.

A few barks sounded from the wolves, but one look back from Reardon silenced them. There were some perks to being the nominated Alpha.

With them settled, he dashed to the rocky outcropping and his hidden supplies. He shifted, bathed in a nearby pond, and put on the clothes he’d bought, hoping he didn’t look too rough around the edges. Grabbing the bottle of wine and the tennis ball launcher, he walked back toward the gates, wondering if he should open them and approach the house or wait for someone to come out to him. He wasn’t one for etiquette. Wolves and warriors didn’t worry about such things.

As he contemplated his next course of action, the sound of tires on gravel behind him made him turn around. Parker’s truck rolled to a stop at the gates and before Reardon could hide, Parker was climbing out of the driver’s seat.

“Hey, man,” he said in the friendly tone Reardon had heard him use almost all the time. “You must be Reardon. I’m Parker. Brandy gave me the lowdown on what you did for her and Dylan. Thank God you were there. Brandy’s the sister I never wanted, but I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to her or Dylan, so thanks.” He shook Reardon’s hand with a firm grip and his sincerity nearly knocked Reardon off his feet. “Where’s your car?”

“I... had someone drop me off. New in town. Don’t have a car with me at the moment.” He was a bastard for lying to Parker, but what choice did he have?

“Oh, well, hop in and we’ll drive you up to the house. We’re joining you all for dinner.”

Reardon regarded the truck and the woman sitting in the passenger seat. He assumed that was Chella. He’d heard Brandy and Parker talk about her and always picked up the subtle disapproving tone in Brandy’s voice when they did mention her. Looked as if he’d get to make his own decision about the woman tonight.

But with all this company would he get a moment alone with Brandy? Did he have the patience to wait? Was he crazy for wanting her to know exactly who he was, what he was?

Most definitely.

Chapter Nine

Brandy rubbed the final spices on the steaks, checked on the side dishes, and peeked in the oven at the dark chocolate walnut brownies with the coconut-chocolate chip-toffee topping. The brownies smelled like heaven, and she wouldn’t mind skipping right to the dessert round tonight even though she loved steak on the grill.

But brownies weren’t the only dessert she was hungry for. A tall, black-haired, bearded Irish dude would fill her up just as nicely. Probably better than brownies if those full lips and big hands had anything to say about the matter. An excited jolt zipped through her as she remembered Reardon’s strong arm around her waist, hoisting her off her feet, carrying her to safety.

When she thought about what could have happened today, she... she... well, she couldn’t let herself think about it. Knowing she could have lost Dylan, the one piece of her sister she treasured most, made her want to sob hysterically.

Thinking of Reardon saving them both dammed the tears. He’d been there. He’d acted fast. He’d made sure they lived to see another day. She owed him so much more than dinner.

And she was prepared to give him more. Whatever he wanted. Tonight, hopefully.

This was a new line of thought for Brandy, but it made this half-nervous, half-delighted energy course through her body like flowing electricity. She wasn’t one to use her body to pay her debts, but she wanted to do so with Reardon. She’d only been in his presence less than fifteen minutes, but she felt... connected to him, as if she knew him already. He was handsome as hell and probably used to women falling immediately under his spell. Brandy figured his eyes alone had enough power to rein in the most reluctant women. Combine those eyes with that body and his life-saving skills and he started looking very much like The Perfect Man.

If there was such a thing.

Brandy hadn’t believed there was, but Reardon—whose last name she didn’t even know—appeared extremely close to perfect.

“Be careful,” she warned herself as she pulled the brownies out of the oven and put them on the stovetop to cool. No need to be stupid about this whole thing. She’d serve him dinner, and if he was open to more, she’d give it to him. It didn’t have to be a big deal. It was just sex.

“Hey, B.”

She whirled around at the sound of Parker’s voice, ready to greet her friend, but her gaze immediately landed on Reardon standing so beautifully tall behind him instead. He filled her small kitchen with his broad shoulders and long legs, and Brandy was certain someone had sucked all the oxygen out of the room. She actually felt dizzy. He looked amazing in another pair of blue jeans and a black, Henley-style T-shirt that fit snuggly around his biceps.

“Good evening, lass.” The deep timbre of his voice caressed her from the inside and she nearly melted at his feet.

“Reardon.” She liked saying his name. “Nice to see you again.”

“Aye, likewise.” He held out a bottle of wine so she had to step closer to take it.

As her hand closed around the neck, Reardon put his free hand over hers. It was solid and rough and warm. God, she hoped he wanted to touch her later tonight. She might weep if he didn’t.

“You’re okay, aye?” He didn’t release his hold on her. Not that she wanted him to. In fact, she had an indescribable urge to snuggle into his arms and stay there. For like a long time.

Or forever. Either way.

“I’m fine,” she said. “Thanks to you.” She looked at his hand that was still bandaged around the knuckles. “And are you okay?”

“Aye, fine.” He let her hand go and gave her a shrug as if it were no big deal he’d leaped into harm’s way to save her and Dylan.

It was a big deal. A very big deal.

She was about to say so, but Chella pushed her way into the kitchen, her high-heeled sandals making loud clacks against the wood floor. Brandy had asked her not to wear those inside as they dinged her wide-planked barnwood floors, but Chella usually did what Chella wanted.

She stood next to Parker now with a pout on her lipsticked lips. “Parker, that mangy brown wolf pushed his nose right between my legs.”

Brandy bit her lip to keep from laughing over Lug’s antics, but Reardon let out a howl of a laugh, making it impossible for Brandy to contain her own chuckling.

Even Parker laughed. “Lug likes you, baby. I’ve told you this before.” He slid his arm around her waist and pulled her close, dropping a kiss on her cheek that appeared to satisfy her. She managed to shoot a glare toward Brandy and Reardon though.

“Well, I don’t appreciate being sniffed like some kind of animal.”

“Animals sniff to get to know you,” Reardon said. “That wolf is curious.”

“He’s right,” Brandy said. “Besides, Lug is totally harmless.”

“Yeah, until he rips my face off.”

“Aw, Chella, Lug wouldn’t rip your face off. He knows true beauty when he sees it.” Parker pressed another kiss to Chella’s cheek and whispered something into her ear that Brandy couldn’t hear.

Thank God. Two minutes into the evening and she’d had enough of their lovey-dovey shit. Time to turn her attention to something else. Something tall and delicious.

“So, Reardon, do you work with animals? You seem to know about them,” she asked as she put the wine bottle down on the dining room table.

Reardon followed her and said, “No. It’s common sense that an animal sniffs to find out about what’s around them.”

“True.” She turned to face him. “So what do you do then?” Was it wrong of her to try to get to know him? She wished she could sniff and know him like the wolves could. Drawing in a breath, she did pick up on Reardon’s scent. Something woodsy and clean and fern-like. Pleasant. Reminded her of the pond outside the sanctuary’s boundaries. She’d gone swimming in that sun-warmed pond before and had enjoyed the smell of the aquatic plants bordering it. Reardon smelled like that. An earthy, comforting scent.

He scratched at his beard and an image of Alator sitting on his haunches using his hind leg to scratch his chin popped in her head. She shook the vision from her mind and focused on Reardon’s mouth that was moving.

“...a soldier.”

“You’re a soldier?” That explained the badass aura and his ability to risk his life to save hers and Dylan’s.

“I was.” He cleared his throat, and Brandy got the impression he didn’t want to talk about being a soldier. Maybe he had some PTSD or something. That made her heart hurt for him.

“And now you’re here.”

He nodded.

“Well, okay. Good enough for me.”

An expression of relief washed over his features and a smile turned up the corners of his lovely mouth. “It smells wonderful in here. What’s for dinner?”

“Steak. Parker likes to grill. It makes him feel manly.”

“I heard that.” Parker appeared in the dining room and leaned against the threshold, Chella draped along his side like a blanket.

“Is it a false statement?” Brandy put her hands on her hips in challenge.

Parker let his head hang on his shoulders. “No. Point me to the meat.” He grunted and scratched himself in imitation of a caveman.

Brandy led him to the kitchen and handed him the tray of seasoned steaks. “Have at it, Chef Daniels.”

“Oh, these look great. C’mon, Chella. I need an assistant.”

Chella giggled and click-clacked her way after him out onto the back deck where the grill was set up.

When Brandy turned around, Reardon raised his eyebrows at her.

“What?”

“You don’t like her.” He gestured to the door.

“She’s fine.” Brandy waved a hand. “I think Parker could do better, but he’s a big boy and can make his own decisions.”

“Have you and Parker...”

“We have, but it wasn’t a love connection. Not like that anyway. He’s like a brother to me.” Was that a jealous little flare in Reardon’s green-gold eyes? Interesting.

“Aye, he called you a sister when I met him out at the gates.”

“So our stories check out then?” she teased.

“They do.” He grinned then looked around the kitchen, pulling free the bag he had pinned under his left arm. “Where’s your boy?”

“He’s feeding the wolves with my mother. She lives in the cabin next door. They’ll both be along shortly.”

“Great. This is for him.” He set the bag on the kitchen counter.

Brandy peeked inside. “The tennis ball launcher. You did see us in the pet store.”

“Aye, but I promise I’m not stalking you.” He held up his hands in innocence. “Today’s events were completely unplanned.” He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m not sure what I’m doing here now.”

“You’re letting me thank you for keeping us from becoming road pizza.”

“Road pizza?”

“Yeah, road pizza. An ooey-gooey version of ourselves. I didn’t want to be ooey-gooey, and I certainly didn’t want Dylan to be either. That kid means everything to me. Everything.”

“Of course. You’re his mother.”

“Actually, I’m his aunt. My sister died giving birth to him so I’m raising him. He calls me Mom because I’m the only one he’s ever known.” Wow, loser, why don’t you tell him your life story? Jesus.

“Then he’s doubly precious to you.” The compassion in his eyes nearly made Brandy cry. “I’m honored to have saved you both today and delighted to share a meal.”

Brandy’s throat was too tight to reply, but she didn’t have to because Dylan and Meredith came in right at that moment.

“Hey, Reardon,” Dylan said. “Guess what? Alator loved that tire toy. I told you he would. We played with it all afternoon.”

“You must have an excellent sense of what wolves find entertaining.” Reardon reached for the bag on the counter and handed it to Dylan. “You’ll have to experiment with this tomorrow.”

Dylan opened the bag and yanked out the tennis ball launcher, a smile the size of the sky on his face. “Yeah! Mom, can I take Reardon to meet Alator now and try this out?” He wiggled the launcher.

“Dinner first. Parker will be done with the steaks soon.” She ruffled Dylan’s hair when he pouted a little. “And you are planning to thank Reardon, correct?”

“Thank you, Reardon. Alator will be so excited to play with this. He loves running. I love running too.”

“Me too,” Reardon said.

Meredith shuffled up to Reardon and Brandy had to laugh at how small her mother looked next to the big man. “I’d like to thank you too,” she said. “I’m Meredith Wendon, and these two schmucks are my whole world. I would not have liked seeing them smooshed between two cars. That would have ruined my day.”

She stepped closer and hugged Reardon. Just like that. Because she was a grandmother, she could get away with such forwardness, while Brandy worked hard to keep from tossing herself at Reardon.

“I happened to be there,” Reardon said over Meredith’s head.

Meredith backed out of the hug, taking a moment to squeeze him around the bicep and raise an approving eyebrow at Brandy. “And a good thing you were. Now let’s eat.”

She nudged Dylan to the dining room table as Parker and Chella came in with the steaks. Brandy brought the side dishes over and everyone took their usual seats.

Everyone except Reardon who appeared to be waiting for her to sit first. Quite the gentleman. Almost as if he wasn’t from this time. She thought of Marshall who had nearly knocked her over to get the seat he wanted at the table in the restaurant.

“This is your seat, Reardon.” Dylan pointed to the one at the head of the table near both Brandy and Dylan.

“Aye. Thank you.” He stepped toward it, resting his hands on the back, but still not sitting until Brandy lowered into her seat. Then he sat, giving her a smile that made her hungry for dessert again.

Post-dessert really.

****

So this is what a home looks like? Reardon glanced around the tidy dining room, the food spread out on the table, the folks gathered around to share the meal. He’d never been a part of anything like this. Most of his meals as a child had been more of the stolen variety. A loaf of bread here, a piece of fruit there, always a found meal instead of a planned one. His mother wasn’t the cooking type either, so he and Jaemus had usually fended for themselves. Never had the three of them sat together at the same time and eaten the same food.

Not once.

Sitting here now with these people made conflicting emotions rise up inside him. On the one hand, he was thrilled to be amongst them, accepted into their group and enjoying their company—especially Brandy’s and Dylan’s. On the other hand, he couldn’t help feeling he didn’t quite belong there.

Of course he didn’t belong there. This wasn’t his home. This wasn’t his time. He had no right to insert himself into this family, but he couldn’t shake the sense that perhaps it was his destiny to be there. Saving Brandy and Dylan earlier today was clear evidence that his presence in Canville, Vermont meant something. At least to them anyway. Of course, they wouldn’t have been in any danger if Flidae wasn’t pissed at him.

But he also couldn’t ignore the pull he had toward the beautiful, red-haired fairy lass and her energetic boy. He’d fallen for them in wolf form and his human form was beginning to feel the same way.

“Steak cooked how you like it, Reardon?” Parker asked.

“Aye.” Reardon held up his fork with a piece of pinkish steak speared onto it. “A little wriggling still. Exactly how I prefer it.”

Brandy scrunched up her nose. The movement put the most adorable expression on her perfect face. “Ugh. Pink stinks. I like mine cooked all the way.”

“You like yours until it’s tough enough to use as a spare tire.” Parker shook his head. “I always feel as if I’m completely ruining a perfectly good steak when I cook yours.”

Brandy stuck her tongue out at Parker and he waved his knife at her, slicing his index finger across his neck in a threatening gesture. She laughed so Reardon tamped down the urge to take Parker outside and give him a lesson on how a man treated a lady. Brandy and Parker teased each other. That was their relationship, but it took a little time for Reardon to understand that. He’d never had a female friend. He wasn’t sure how a man could simply be friends with a lass like Brandy.

Doesn’t Parker have eyes? From where Reardon sat, Brandy was a million times more attractive than Chella and had the personality to go with those incredible physical features. So far, what he’d seen of Chella put her in the lacking category.

“What are you going to do about a car now?” Chella asked Brandy.

“I’ll borrow Mom’s until I can work out the details with the insurance company. Then I guess I’ll be shopping for some new wheels.” Brandy didn’t look too happy about having to do that.

Reardon had no idea what kind of experience purchasing one of those vehicles was, but if it was anything like securing a ship, he understood why she wasn’t happy.

“Can we get a venom red Dodge Viper?” Dylan asked, his mouth full of steak.

“Because that’s a practical car for Vermont.” Meredith reached over and rubbed Dylan’s head. “Next, he’ll be wanting a motorcycle.”

Dylan’s eyes brightened. “Yeah!”

“No,” Brandy, Meredith, and Parker said in unison.

Dylan leaned toward Reardon. “They always say that.”

“They care about you. That’s a good thing, no?” Reardon wouldn’t mind having some people care about him that way. He had his men—well, he used to have his men. Before he betrayed them all in the name of fame, glory, and riches. He gritted his teeth over the memory of his selfishness.

“It’s good.” Dylan shrugged. “I don’t want a motorcycle anyway. I want my own snowmobile.”

“And someday you will get one.” Brandy handed him a napkin and pointed to his chin where some rogue barbecue sauce rested.

“Someday after I’ve given you a million snowmobiling lessons,” Parker said, winking at the boy.

Reardon knew Parker had been a part of this group for a great deal of time, but he couldn’t help feeling jealous of that fact. He wished he could manipulate time—like Flidae had—and get to the day where Brandy knew all about him and accepted and cared for him.

All of him.

“Are you here in Vermont to stay?” Chella asked.

“I hope so,” Reardon said. “It’s beautiful here.”

“Where are you from?” She took a sip of her wine, licking her lips in a way that told Reardon he’d bought a suitable kind. The choices had been many. Not at all like in his time and place.

“Ireland.” Short answers would get him through this night. He had to believe that. It was the only plan he had.

That and somehow getting his hands on Brandy later tonight.

“Who leaves Ireland to come here?” Chella frowned, her face becoming even less pleasing.

“Apparently, he does.” Meredith arrowed a thumb toward Reardon. “Sometimes a man needs a tranquility only the woods of good old Vermont can provide, right?”

“Aye. There is a certain peace here.” And he’d never been one to surround himself with peace. Just the opposite in fact.

“Except when you’re running into the street to save us,” Dylan said.

“Well, I didn’t want too much peace.” Reardon glanced at Brandy. “Too much peace would be boring.”

Brandy’s cheeks colored nicely, and Reardon got the impression her mind was following his down a possible path for them both that would definitely not be boring.

“I hate being bored,” Dylan said.

“So do I,” Chella added, sounding like a person Dylan’s age rather than Parker’s.

“Fortunately, you have me, my dear,” Parker said, nuzzling Chella’s cheek with his nose. “I am anti-boredom.”

“Humble too.” Brandy winked at him, and again, Reardon wanted that attention directed toward him.

“You never would have made it through college without my anti-boredom strategies,” Parker said. “I should write a book.”

“Yeah, a coloring book,” Brandy shot back, earning a laugh from the group.

“Coloring books are popular right now,” Chella said. “I bought three of them online yesterday.”

Brandy regarded Chella then slid her gaze to Parker. Her eyebrow slowly rose above her right eye. Reardon got the impression she was communicating with Parker without words.

What message is she sending? He would have loved to know because he definitely sensed some tension along with the message.

Parker narrowed his eyes at Brandy then turned his attention back to his plate. “So Dylan, I was up at Mrs. Rangeley’s farm yesterday and she has five more dwarf goats that need naming. She wanted to know if you have any suggestions.”

“Do you have any pictures of them? I need to see them to name them.”

Parker nodded. “They are on my phone. I’ll show you later and we can text her some options.”

“Okay.”

The rest of the meal passed with what Reardon assumed was normal family conversation. Topics like the high summer temperatures expected next week, when Dylan was going to camp, new books Meredith ordered for the library, and how Parker planned to do the wolves’ annual physicals were discussed. Reardon listened mostly, not loving that last topic much, considering he was technically one of Silver Moon’s wolves. He’d have to think of a way to get out of that experience if he could. It was one thing to have Parker tend to him when his leg had been broken. It was another to have the thorough veterinarian poking around his body.

Everyone pitched in to clean up then Brandy served something delicious called brownies. The group had moved to the patio behind Brandy’s cabin and Parker lit a fire in a small stone pit. Cricket song mixed with the hiss, crack, and pop of the flames. Shadows danced all around everyone. Moonlight filtered through the trees.

Reardon couldn’t imagine a more perfect evening. He didn’t want it to end, but soon Parker and Chella were saying their goodbyes. Meredith was ushering Dylan inside to pack up some of his things to stay with her for the night.

Brandy hadn’t moved from her position across from Reardon, flames still flickering in the fire pit between them. Did she want him to go? Did she want him to stay? He had no idea what current etiquette called for in this situation. Was it rude of him to linger?

Did he care if he were rude? He definitely didn’t want to leave. Not yet.

“Do you like whiskey, Reardon?” Brandy leaned forward, the firelight making her hair glow. She looked even more like a fairy lass now.

“Aye.” In fact, he’d been tempted to bring that instead of wine, but the storeowner convinced him wine was a better selection for a dinner event.

Brandy got to her feet and walked around the fire pit, stopping to stand in front of him.

He made a move to get to his feet, but she gently touched his shoulder and nudged him to stay in his seat.

“You don’t have to rush off anywhere, do you?” she asked.

“Not unless you wish me to.”

A slow smile turned up her lips. “I don’t wish you to. I’ll be right back.”

He looked over his shoulder as she slithered through the darkness and disappeared into the house. Anticipation ran wild throughout his body. He wanted to howl at the moon, but contained the urge. Instead, he got up, walked to the small wood pile beside the patio, and added a few logs to the fire. In a couple of moments, the flames reached high again, pouring an orange glow over everything. He poked the fire, adjusting the logs and it climbed a little higher.

Reardon was reminded of all the fires he’d built with his men as they camped under the stars dotting the skies over Ireland—and how Erik Rheagan stomped them out with his bare feet when they were done. The lad had feet of iron, and remembering the man made an ache pulse in Reardon’s chest. How were all his men faring? Where were they? Flidae had hinted that some of them hadn’t landed in a comfortable situation as he had.

He looked up at the night sky and focused on dark treetops. He’d never minded being outside. Being part wolf gave him a connection to the outdoors—a connection he’d never fully enjoyed. Silver Moon Sanctuary was changing that for him.

While in wolf form, he’d done nothing but spend time outside. The sanctuary had a small area with wooden shelters for the wolves, but he hadn’t seen many of the wolves use them. Maybe when the weather got worse they would, but this summer had been gorgeous so far, and sleeping out in the open had been the norm.

For the other wolves anyway.

Reardon spent most of his nights curled up on the floor of Brandy’s room. He’d known that was a special privilege, especially because he was the newest wolf in the sanctuary, but he’d earned his place there by defending her against Hank Swift. While he hated that the man had scared her—touched her—he didn’t mind the way she sought safety from his wolf.

Could she seek things from his human too? Gods, he hoped so. He was definitely willing to give her whatever she might need or want.

Soft footsteps sounded behind him, and he turned away from the fire to find Brandy standing there with a glass held out to him. Ice clinked as he took the glass from her.

“What should we drink to?” she asked, her own glass held aloft.

“Whatever the lass wishes.” He took a step closer.

Her tongue came out to wet her lips, and Reardon had to keep himself from tasting her instead of the whiskey.

“To heroes who save the day.” She angled her glass at him.

“I’m hardly a hero.” If she only knew what he’d done to his men. How Flidae had banished him. How he’d lived the life of a savage.

She shook her head. “You said we could drink to ‘whatever the lass wishes.’ I wish to drink to you, Reardon.”

He tapped his glass to hers then they each tossed the whiskey back in one gulp. It burned the back of his throat exactly as it was supposed to then heated his chest in a warm, spreading wave.

Brandy held her hand out for his glass. She set both of them down on a small, iron table.

“Listen.” Her voice was soft, tentative, a little raspy from the whiskey. “I don’t know much about you, Reardon, but what I do know, I like. A lot.”

But you do know me. He wanted to tell her that so badly.

Reardon put his hand to his chest. “You honor me, fairy lass. I’ve had a very enjoyable evening.”

She smiled, a glint of confidence shining in her eyes now. “Parker’s steaks are pretty amazing, aren’t they?”

“I wasn’t referring to the steaks.” He took another step closer. Close enough that he could reach out and touch her. If he wanted to.

And he wanted to.

“The wine you brought had a fine taste.” Brandy took his hand—the one without the unnecessary bandage—and walked backward so she still faced him. She tugged him toward the house.

“I wasn’t referring to the wine either.” Reardon took her other hand and allowed her to pull him into the kitchen.

“Hmm. The brownies? Dylan’s hero worship of you? Meredith’s jokes? Chella’s... sandals?” Her smile was full on now, amusement reflecting in her wide, blue eyes.

“No, no, no, and definitely no.” Reardon backed Brandy up against the wall between the kitchen and dining room.

She slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, a wicked little gleam in her eyes heating him all over. “Then what has made your evening so enjoyable?”

Reardon put his hands on her waist. Slowly, he leaned in close enough to put his lips to her ear. “You, lass. I’ve enjoyed you.”

“You haven’t yet.”

She rose to her tiptoes and pressed her lips to his. Sparks exploded in his body and a low growl of possession rumbled in his throat.

Whether she knew it or not, Brandy Wendon had become his with that kiss.

Chapter Ten

Who was this seductress and what had she done with Dr. Brandy Wendon? How had she gotten herself in a liplock with an almost complete stranger?

And had she actually been the one to initiate said liplock?

Brandy pushed all those questions to the dark recesses of her mind and gave herself over to kissing Reardon. Shit, he was a fabulous kisser with those full lips. Just the right amount of pressure, warmth, skill. The kiss reached places all over her body. Places gone dusty with neglect.

This was nothing like the kissing experiment she and Parker had indulged in a few weeks ago. Parker knew his way around a woman’s mouth, but Reardon? Good God. When his tongue gently caressed hers and his hand came to rest at the back of her head, holding her in the kiss, she nearly lost her ability to stand on her own two feet.

Not that she was actually standing to begin with. Leaning. She was definitely leaning. Into Reardon’s body. Against all that hard muscle. Drowning in his heat. Craving more.

Another low growl vibrated in his throat. The sound was so wolf-like, so familiar, resonating deeply within her on a primal level. She felt like an animal herself, all her senses heightened, ultra-tuned, zeroed in on only Reardon.

His hands slid down to cup her bottom as he deepened the kiss. When those same strong hands found their way to the backs of her thighs, she moved on instinct to let him lift her. Her legs clamped around his waist and her ankles linked at his back while his hands climbed up to her shoulders, pressing her closer still.

How close could two humans get? Could they inhabit the same space? Because she wanted to. Physics be damned.

Reardon broke the kiss, his breath coming in gasps. “Forgive me, lass. I take too many liberties.” His green-gold eyes were filled with remorse and something... else. Something Brandy couldn’t identify.

She cupped his cheek, rubbing her palm against the short, bristly beard on his jaw. “No. Forgive me. I give too much away.” Brandy brushed her lips against his once, twice. Short, teasing pecks. “But I can’t seem to stop myself.” She bit her bottom lip and looked him directly in the eyes. Not an easy task as intense as his gaze was. “If you don’t want to—”

His fingers came up to rest against her lips, silencing her. “I want to. Desperately.” It was his turn to press a few, quick kisses to her lips, along her jaw, in the curve of her neck, which made her wild with wanting. “But are you sure?”

Brandy nodded. “It’s occurred to me that I never do anything for myself. I’m always doing things for Dylan and Meredith. Even Parker. Definitely for the wolves. It’s high time I did something for me.”

“And so you want to do me?” Reardon’s mouth turned up on the left side, his eyes darkening to a deeper green-gold.

She hit his shoulder. “Don’t get cocky. I could change my mind. Let logic and reason take over.”

“Forget logic and reason. They are no friends of mine.” He hiked her up a little higher on his body, burying his nose in her hair and kissing a line from one ear, under her chin, and over to the other ear.

“Logic and reason are too friendly with me... but not tonight.”

She slid down from her perch on Reardon and grabbed his forearm. After leading him down the hallway and up the stairs, she pushed open the door of her bedroom and hoped to God Meredith and Dylan didn’t have to come back to the house for anything. What in the world would she say to Dylan?

Hey, honey. Mom wanted a playmate. One she could play with naked.

Ugh. She had to shake this line of thinking from her warped mind. Meredith had given her “the eye” before she’d left with Dylan. The message had been clear.

You’ve got the house to yourself. Go crazy.

She had to admit to feeling a little on the crazy side. Why else would she be turning on the bedside lamp and sliding her hands under Reardon’s T-shirt?

Oh, sweet Jesus. Her finger tips were telling her the man had official Abs of Steel. Was the human body even capable of such a phenomenon? She peeled his shirt off. Forget a six-pack. Reardon had more of a twelve-pack. Muscles where Brandy didn’t think muscles were possible.

“Wow.” The word slipped out.

Reardon chuckled, the sound raspy and low. “Your approval is appreciated.”

“I never... I mean... Shit, look at you.” Suddenly the bedside lamp was not even close to enough light to truly appreciate this man’s body. She wanted to go outside, rip one of the floodlights off the house, and use it to illuminate all of Reardon’s gorgeousness.

“I’ve looked at me,” he said. “All my life. What I’m more interested in right now, fairy lass, is looking at you.”

He stepped closer, tugged his shirt from her hands, and dropped it on the end of her bed. His hands came to her waist again and he pulled her up against him. His flesh was hot against her body, even through her tank top and shorts. He captured her mouth, sending his heat straight to her core. His lips trailed along her neck to her shoulder where he nudged the strap of her tank top out of the way.

“You taste better than those brownies.” He grinned as he paused to meet her gaze.

“I don’t see how that’s possible. Those are damn good brownies. Won awards at the Canville Fair three years in a row.”

“That’s only because the judges were not allowed to sample you, I presume.”

“Well, no. I don’t make a habit of holding free tastings for all.”

“Good. I don’t like to share.”

At that moment, Brandy couldn’t imagine having anyone else standing shirtless in her bedroom with his hands, his lips on her. She hadn’t wanted anyone. Not like this. Not like Reardon.

She unzipped his jeans and he pushed them down with his boxer briefs, stepping out of both and leaving them in a pile on the bedroom floor. His legs were as muscled as his torso and arms. If she hadn’t actually touched him, she’d have thought he was a hallucination brought on by the fact she hadn’t had sex in like forever. Men who looked this good didn’t actually exist, did they?

And it wasn’t that he was perfect because quite a few angry scars marked his body. A jagged, puckered one cut across his left side from under his arm across his ribs. Another one zipped from his waist down his right thigh. Smaller ones slashed his flesh here and there.

Battle scars. She didn’t ask about them. No need to bring up what had caused those scars. Not now. She had a feeling the stories wouldn’t be pleasant. But what circumstances, what weapons, caused scars like these? They looked as if he’d been cut with a sword.

Silly. Who fought with swords anymore? How about no one. Maybe Reardon was a mirage after all.

Brandy flattened her palm against Reardon’s exposed stomach and a small gasp escaped from her throat. Yep, he was real.

“What is it, lass?” He tipped her chin up so she had to meet his gaze.

“Just confirming you’re not a mirage.”

He chuckled softly. “If you are a mirage, I may weep.” He slid the other strap of her tank top off her shoulder. “You are a sight to behold, Brandy.”

Where had this guy come from? The Irish accent made him unique, but he also talked as if he weren’t from this time. A sight to behold? Men of today didn’t say things like that. She enjoyed hearing it though. Definitely.

“Want the whole picture?” She ran her index fingers along the waistband of her shorts.

“Aye. Please.” He sat on the end of her bed, lowered to lean back on his elbows, and lasered his full attention on her hands unbuttoning her shorts.

All that focus from those green-gold eyes made her giddy with anticipation. And all thumbs. She couldn’t get her damn shorts off fast enough.

When she finally succeeded in sliding her shorts down her legs, Reardon’s pupils zipped open, creating huge black pools rimmed with an almost glowing amber color.

Wait a minute.

Brandy stepped closer so she was standing between Reardon’s knees. “Your eyes...”

He immediately squeezed them closed and shook his head a little. When he opened his eyes, they were the beautiful green-gold color again.

“What was that?” She rested her palms on his knees and leaned forward, trying to get a better look at his eyes.

Reardon cleared his throat, averting her gaze. “What was what, lass?” He reached up and swatted playfully at her hair hanging over him.

“Your eyes looked as if they were... glowing.” Had she really seen that?

He let out a little breath. “Must be a trick of the lighting in here. The color of my eyes sometimes reflects light strangely.” He shrugged his left shoulder and sat up, his eyes opened wide. “Do they look normal now?”

“Yeah.” Brandy wasn’t sure what she’d seen, but something else had caught her attention now. Something large. Hard.

Ready.

Reardon followed her gaze down to his arousal. “I’m a little excited by the way you look right now.”

“Hmm. What should we do about that?”

“I have some ideas.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her back with him, draping her body over his then rolling so she was partially tucked under him. “We have to rid you of these first.” He pulled gently on the waistband of her panties—ones that miraculously matched her bra for once.

She angled herself slightly off the bed, allowing him to remove her panties then her bra. Watching him reverently place the lacey garments at the end of the bed made her chuckle.

“Very gentle hands even if they are huge.” She caught one and placed it on her stomach. “Massive, actually.”

He rubbed his palm back and forth, allowing his fingers to graze her breasts. Something sad filtered into his facial features, lowering his dark brows and turning his mouth into a stern line.

She reached out and cupped his face, making him look at her. “Did I offend you with the massive hands comment? I didn’t mean to upset you. I love big, man hands.”

He turned his face to press his lips to her fingers. “No offense, lass. I let my mind wander to things these hands have done.”

“As a soldier, you mean?”

He nodded then leaned down to kiss a trail from her stomach up between her breasts and along her throat. “I’d rather not talk about that if you don’t mind.”

“No problem.” Though her heart cracked a little as she wondered what horrors he’d seen. How long had he been on active duty? Had he killed? Had he watched fellow soldiers die? Was he plagued by nightmares? “I’m going to try to put your mind on better things.”

At that, he smiled. “Much appreciated.”

She nudged his shoulder until he was on his back and she was atop him. Settling her legs on either side of his waist, she wiggled slightly, eliciting another growl from him. The light caught his eyes again, but she didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable so she didn’t mention it. Instead she leaned down, letting her breasts press against his bare chest.

His arms came around her back and he held her for a quiet moment. The gesture was so sweet and unexpected that it caught her off guard. Did he maybe need to be held? Perhaps no one had held him since he’d returned from active duty.

Well, now her throat was tight. Who wouldn’t want to welcome back a hero like Reardon?

Brandy caught his mouth with hers and coaxed him into a deep kiss. One that stoked a fire inside her, sent flames licking to her extremities, made her feel as if lava was bubbling in her core, struggling to break free.

Reardon’s hands found their way into her hair, his fingers scraping against her skull in a most pleasing way. His body was hard beneath hers, yet fit her contours perfectly. His beard scraped along her flesh as he rolled her to her back and skated his lips over all her parts. When his mouth closed over her breast, she nearly howled.

Good God, I’ve been alone too long.

Seriously. She’d been so focused on the sanctuary and raising Dylan that she’d forgotten about the physical pleasures life had to offer. She didn’t regret the time or effort she’d spent on the wolves or her son, but holy shit, she’d denied herself.

That ended tonight.

****

Reardon had so many things he wanted to say to Brandy as he caressed her magnificent body. He wanted to tell her what an amazing mother she was to Dylan, but in her mind, he’d only spent one night with them. He shouldn’t know she was an amazing mother. He wanted to tell her the wolves at the sanctuary considered her part of their pack, but in her mind, he hadn’t met any of the wolves yet. He shouldn’t know about her pack status. He wanted to tell her thank you for the expert care she and Parker had given to him when his leg had been mangled by that trap, but in her mind, that broken leg belonged to a big, black wolf they’d named Alator. He shouldn’t know how much that trap had hurt or how wonderful she’d been to nurse him back to health.

Frustrating. Being both a man and a wolf had never been ideal, but right now, it was keeping him from truly giving all of himself to this beautiful fairy lass.

Enjoy what you can. He was lucky enough to have been invited to dinner. He was beyond lucky to be naked in her bedroom right now. He could put aside the secrets he kept and indulge in what Brandy offered. This one night could be enough.

“Reardon...”

The sound of his name from her lips made his wolf fight to get to the surface. Who was he kidding? One night with Brandy would never be enough.

“Aye, lass?” He propped himself up on one arm to look at her.

“I can’t wait another moment. Please.” She ran her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, hooked them on the back of his neck, and pulled him down so his lips were mere centimeters away from hers. “I need you. Now.” Her raspy whisper made his incisors lengthen in his mouth, and he had to mentally talk himself back to fully human.

She wiggled out from underneath him, and he was about to protest. He didn’t want her to get away from him. His wolf had spotted prey, deliciously sexy prey, and he couldn’t go without having the deepest taste he could get.

His eyes tracked her as she opened a drawer on a table beside the bed. She pulled a small packet out of the drawer and tore it open to reveal something roundish.

“I’m on birth control,” she said, “but I like the extra protection. Do you mind?”

He shook his head, not entirely sure what she was talking about. Birth control? Extra protection?

When she placed the item against the tip of his arousal and rolled a thin material over his length, he understood. She didn’t wish him to impregnate her. He didn’t wish that either. A banished Celtic werewolf warrior had no business creating offspring in this time, in this place where he didn’t belong. If he did, Flidae would not approve. No telling what she would do as punishment.

A ripple traveled along Reardon’s spine.

Brandy took her lovely hands off his arousal and met his gaze. “Everything okay?”

“It will be. Soon.”

Her cheeks were flushed, her lips slightly parted as if she were having trouble breathing. Her heartbeat filled his ears, and he wondered if it was loud in her own head as well. She’d said she needed him, but was that rapid heartbeat anticipation or... fear?

Reardon was accustomed to people fearing him. On the battlefield, he brought destruction, often in horribly bloody ways. The success of his army was bred on fear, on being the opponents’ worst nightmares, on sword blades and spear tips. Stories of his brutality traveled far and wide across Europe. Reardon McAlator was the Angel of Death.

“Are you afraid?” he asked Brandy.

“Afraid?” Her brows lowered over her beautiful blue eyes. “No. Why would you ask that?”

He placed his hand over her heart. “Your heart is racing, lass.”

A lovely smile blossomed on her lips. “Not fear, Reardon. Not at all. I want this. I want you.”

He should have told her right then that she should fear him. That she should stop what they were about to do immediately. That she should order him from her bedroom, her house, her sanctuary, her life.

He should have done all those things.

“I want you too,” he said instead.

“Let’s work off those brownies then.” She pulled him down to her.

After a few moments of scorching kisses and teasing caresses, Brandy rolled Reardon to his back, pinned his shoulders down with her hands, and guided herself onto his length. Her center was hot and wet and tight.

“Oh... lass...” He couldn’t say much more than that because she started moving in steady circles that caused the most amazing sensations to course through him.

Her sweet bottom writhed against him as she took him deep, deeper, as deep as she could. He’d never felt so completely surrounded, so welcomed, so part of another human. With smooth, slow up and down movements, Brandy brought him to the edge quickly.

Reardon’s head was always on the battlefield, on the next contract, on the coming payout. When he’d tended to his physical desires with a willing partner, he’d never lost himself. He’d managed to pleasure various lasses while planning his next attack strategy, inventorying his army’s weapons and supplies, orchestrating travel arrangements to follow the fighting. He’d never given his all to a woman. Never had wanted to. Women were diversions. Things a man played with between battles. Things men used to still feel alive after causing so much death.

It was all different with Brandy.

The battlefield was a distant memory as was Ireland, his army, his weapons, his fame, his riches, his banishment. He didn’t care about any of those things right now. All he wanted he currently had in his arms.

Brandy shifted, causing all new sensations to reverberate through him. She arched her back, small gasps escaping from her throat as her motions stimulated her body as well.

Time to participate. So far he’d taken. It was his duty to also give.

He put his hands on her breasts, massaging them both until her back arched more, until she settled more firmly on him, until she let loose a moan that set him on fire. He slid one hand up to her cheek and coaxed her down so he could ravage those luscious lips of hers.

As their mouths explored, Brandy continued her movements and soon Reardon was moving in time with her. Their rhythm was perfectly tuned, a synchronicity he’d never imagined was possible. As part wolf, he was always hyper aware of his surroundings, always on alert, ready to pounce. Right now, however, there was only Brandy. Her body. The sounds she made. The reactions she caused in his body. The heat and energy that flowed between them.

They climbed higher. Together. When Reardon was about to shatter into tiny pieces, he released himself into Brandy’s warmth. She rode his release and crested over her own wave of pleasure a moment later.

Slowly, she slid off him—and wasn’t that just as nice? She lowered to lie beside him, her body shaking in the post-haze he certainly felt as well.

“I repeat, wow.” Her eyes were closed, but a grin turned up her lips.

Reardon combed his fingers through the hair that cascaded over her neck and pooled at her breasts. The strands slithered and shushed like silky fire, the red of it in stark contrast to her pale flesh. Light from the bedside lamp behind her outlined her naked body in a golden aura.

Surely, she is a goddess.

The moment that thought was born in his mind, a slicing pain pierced through this skull. He clamped his eyes closed against the feeling, but it stabbed at him again. Again. Again.

Humans are not goddesses, wolf. Flidae’s voice echoed in his head. Do not elevate them to such high status.

Wonderful. He’d angered Flidae once again, but it didn’t change his mind. Brandy was divine.

Another pain speared into him. This time his entire body went rigid with it and a groan slipped out of his throat. He struggled to breathe for a moment and bolted upright in Brandy’s bed.

“Reardon?” Brandy sat up too. “What’s wrong? Shit, are you having a heart attack?” She popped up from the bed. “Where’s my phone? Oh, God, it’s downstairs. Hang on. Shit.” She ran toward the bedroom door.

“Brandy.” His voice made her skid to a stop on her bare feet.

“I have to call for help!”

“No. I’m fine.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood. Slowly. Testing out his legs. The pain was gone, but his body felt as if someone had jammed a torch into his stomach. The entire bedroom—a room he knew quite well after sleeping in it in wolf form for so many nights—spun around him. He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them again, everything settled back into its place. “I’m all right. Really.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you sure? You didn’t look all right a few seconds ago.”

“I promise you, I’m all right.” He would have to remember not to think thoughts that enraged Flidae. She was apparently watching him closer than he’d known. She was inside his damn head.

He held out his hand to Brandy and she came around to his side of the bed. She took his hand and he tugged her up against him, taking comfort in her still naked body.

“That was scary. I, uh...” She glanced to the bed where the sheets were in disarray from their lovemaking. “I haven’t done that in a while, and I thought I’d killed you.”

Reardon let out a laugh and her tensed muscles relaxed against his chest. “I’m harder to kill than that, lass.” If she only knew how others had tried to end him. Tried and failed. “I’m sorry if I frightened you. I don’t know what that was.” Liar. But what could he say? A goddess was torturing him? That wouldn’t do.

She gave him a tight squeeze then backed up a step to look up at him. Her mouth opened, but when her gaze dropped down, she closed it. She reached down and removed the item she’d rolled onto his length before they’d made love.

“Are you allergic to latex or something?” She grabbed a tissue from the table beside the bed and curled it around the item before depositing it in a trashcan.

Reardon didn’t know what latex was so he shrugged noncommittally and reached for his clothes. “I should go.” Because he didn’t have answers to the questions she was sure to keep asking. No answers he could give her anyway. Not tonight.

“I suppose it is late.” Her face looked sad as she dressed, and he hated that he’d caused that expression.

When they were both clothed again, Reardon took Brandy’s hands in his. She avoided his gaze so he tipped up her chin. “I would like to see you again.”

Her eyes widened. “You would?”

It made his heart hurt that she doubted what he was feeling for her. Of course she doubted. He couldn’t tell her he’d started loving her as she’d cared for him in his wolf form. He couldn’t tell her he’d known her for weeks now. He couldn’t tell her he felt her love when she interacted with him as a wolf. To her, this night was all they’d had so far.

So he’d start from what she considered the beginning. He’d be patient. He’d make her fall for Reardon McAlator, the man, as she’d fallen for Alator, the wolf.

And then he’d tell her they were one and the same.

“Of course I want to see you again, fairy lass. I already told you I had a wonderful evening, and that was before...” He motioned to the bed with his hand.

Her cheeks went crimson, and he wanted to gather her in his arms, take her all over again, never let her go.

“I could be free tomorrow.” She looked down at her bare toes, wiggling them. Her shyness—after she’d been so forward in bringing him into her bedroom earlier—was so hot. It told him that she must have really wanted him for her to act so out of character. This Brandy standing before him now, this unsure, pink-cheeked fairy lass was the real Brandy.

Not a goddess. Flidae’s voice in his ears made him wince. Fortunately, Brandy was still examining her feet.

I know she’s not a goddess, he thought back.

You’ll do well to remember. Another sharp pain threatened to crack open his skull.

“Tomorrow would be lovely. May I come back here?” Because he didn’t actually have a place of his own in Canville. The sanctuary was his place. He took comfort in knowing that after he pretended to leave, he’d be allowed right back into Brandy’s bedroom in his wolf form.

“If that doesn’t bore you, sure.”

“Bore me? Absolutely not.” He dropped a kiss on her lips and loved how her body melted against his. “It excites me.”

“Dinner again?”

“If that doesn’t bore you.” He grinned when she did.

“Wise ass.” She pretended to punch him in the stomach, her knuckles lightly meeting his abs. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out. Maybe we can find Alator and you can meet him.”

Not likely. Still, he followed her out of the bedroom, down the stairs, through the living room, and out the front door.

Fifteen wolves sat on their haunches, staring at him.

“Oh.” Brandy stumbled to a stop. “That’s weird. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them all together like this before.”

“Maybe they’re having a meeting.”

At the sound of his voice, all the wolves got to their feet, tails wagging wildly. Short barks and whines filtered out of the pack as they took turns coming to him, sniffing and licking and rubbing.

“I’m sorry,” Brandy said as she steered Lug away from him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

“It’s not a problem. They’re just curious.” He offered each of the wolves—his pack really—quick pats and whispered words of greeting.

“Well, they certainly seem to like you.” She put her hands on her hips and regarded the few wolves still nudging him. After turning in a circle, she furrowed her brow. “I don’t see Alator though.”

But you do.

“Perhaps he’s with Dylan?”

“Maybe, but he usually sleeps in the house.”

Reardon raised an eyebrow. “Special treatment for him?”

“He earned it. I have a neighbor who...” Brandy hesitated as she ran her fingers along Albi’s brown fur. “Who acted like an ass. Alator told him to knock that shit off and I greatly appreciated that. He’s a protective wolf. I really wish you could meet him.”

“Another time.”

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow.”

“I look forward to tomorrow with great anticipation, Brandy.” He stepped away from the lingering wolves and pressed a kiss to Brandy’s forehead. “Good night and thank you.”

He walked toward the entrance gates, all fifteen wolves on his heels despite Brandy calling them back. When he opened the gate, he turned, hand held out.

“Stay,” he commanded.

Each wolf sat and watched as he re-latched the gate. Trusting they’d heed his order, Reardon walked down the driveway into the darkness. He stowed his clothes in the rocky outcropping hiding spot and shifted into wolf form.

In a matter of minutes, he was getting a running start, hurtling over the gates, and rubbing noses with his wolf family. His sharp hearing picked up sounds of Brandy on the back patio of her cabin so he trotted to her.

“There you are.” She put down the glasses she’d been picking up off the patio table and kneeled, beckoning him over to her. “Where have you been all night, big boy? Huh? I wanted you to meet someone. Someone amazing.”

Reardon pushed his nose into her hands and allowed her to rub him all over. Such contact felt good in wolf form, but now that he knew what her hands felt like on his human flesh, he craved that.

Tomorrow. He could wait until tomorrow.

Chapter Eleven

“I know you don’t like this, sweet girl.” Parker held the syringe aloft as Brandy rubbed the fur between Midir’s ears. “I’ll have what I need after one prick and you can be on your way.”

Brandy stroked Midir’s muzzle, trying to distract the wolf from the blood Parker was collecting. Once a year, she and Parker did full physicals on all the wolves to keep their records up to date and look for potential problems. Wolves didn’t always reveal their illnesses in obvious ways, and she wanted to stay on top of anything that might be a hazard to them.

So far the biggest hazard had been Hank Swift. Luckily, after Alator’s warning, she hadn’t seen much of the ass or his traps. Maybe he’d finally gotten the message between the Sheriff’s requests, her yelling at him, and Alator’s razor-sharp teeth display. Whatever the case, things at the sanctuary had been good, and she hoped it stayed that way.

Because other things were good too. Really good. Last night with Reardon had been amazing. Not only the sex, but the dinner conversation as well. She’d enjoyed watching him interact with Dylan, Meredith, and Parker. He’d even had some quick replies to Chella that had been entertaining. He’d appeared to be in tune with her too, picking up that she didn’t exactly approve of Chella. Was she that obvious? She didn’t think so. She’d reconciled to allow Parker to do what he wanted. The best she could do was be there for him should Chella break his heart.

“Okay, this beauty is good to go.” Parker moved to stand next to Brandy so he could look Midir in the face. “Sorry, Midir. You know it’s nothing personal.” He removed his gloves and gave the wolf a scratch under the chin.

Midir let out a huff as Brandy released the harness they used to keep the wolves in place as they worked with them.

“I don’t think she forgives you yet, Park.” Brandy opened the clinic door to let Midir out.

“Eh, women. They hold grudges. Fortunately, I’m charming. Midir will not be able to resist me.”

Brandy shook her head. “Ready to use all that charm on Albi?”

“Round her up.”

They ran through the physical for Albi with ease and soon only one wolf remained on the roster.

“I know we collected some things when we tended to Alator’s leg,” Parker said, “but I’d like to do a full physical so we have everything neat and tidy in our records.”

“This is why we get along so well.” Brandy squeezed Parker’s shoulder. “You’re a big nerd like me when it comes to record keeping.”

“Guilty. I love data.” Parker opened the clinic door to let Albi out. “Have you seen Alator this morning?” He squinted into the nearby woods, moving his head in a slow, scanning motion.

“Not since breakfast.” Breakfast. Where the big, black wolf hadn’t left her side. She half expected him to crawl into her lap and share her cinnamon toast. He’d been like that all night. Clingy. Snuggly. Wanting to jump up on the bed, which she’d never been one to allow. She’d actually had to yell at him and threaten to toss him outside to get him to stay on the bedroom floor.

And then he’d pouted. As much as a wolf could pout anyway. His large head rested between large paws as large green-gold eyes peered up at her. She’d nearly caved. Nearly. But she’d been tired from her extracurricular activities with Reardon. She needed some sleep so perhaps she could repeat those activities tonight.

Assuming Reardon didn’t pop out of bed and need to leave all of a sudden.

She’d thought about that all night as she attempted to sleep. They’d made love and it had been wonderful. She’d been looking forward to some serious spooning with the beautiful man, but he’d bolted up, gasped for breath, and she hadn’t known what was happening. At least it hadn’t been a medical emergency, but still... she wondered what had made him have that reaction.

Did he regret what they’d done?

No. He wants to see you again, stupid.

Didn’t he enjoy what they’d done?

No. His body had definitely reciprocated in a positive fashion.

Had he not been with a woman in a while and had a panic attack?

Perhaps.

It was quite possible Brandy had been the first woman Reardon had been with since returning from active duty. Maybe the intensity of everything crashed down on him all at once. She’d take that into consideration tonight. After all, she’d been the one to lead him to her bedroom. She’d been the aggressor. Perhaps it’d been too much too fast. She didn’t regret a moment of what they’d shared, but she could take it slow.

I should take it slow. No need to get swept away. Brandy wasn’t normally the swept away sort anyway. Time to screw her head back on and get logical about this whole thing... whatever it was.

“Where’s Dylan and Meredith?” Parker asked.

“They’re in the library preparing for an art project Mom wants to do with a Girl Scout group this week. Mom wouldn’t let any of the wolves in there if she’s got craft supplies out.”

“Okay, so Alator’s not with them. He’s got to be—”

At that moment, a loud gun pop sounded, immediately followed by a long howl that echoed through the trees, cutting off Parker’s response.

“Shit.” Brandy ran back inside the clinic and grabbed a tranq gun while Parker unlocked a cabinet and snatched the sanctuary’s only rifle.

“Sounded as if it was coming from the east.” Parker broke into a run in that direction with Brandy right beside him.

She took a mental attendance as they ran. She counted fifteen wolves along the way. Only one was missing. Only one was in possible danger. Though he was the newest wolf to Silver Moon, Brandy couldn’t help but think she knew him best.

Alator was... well, he was her favorite.

She felt a little guilty about that. She shouldn’t have favorites. Every wolf at the sanctuary needed her attention. Every wolf was as important as the next.

But...

“Over here!” Parker picked up speed and led Brandy to the fence at the sanctuary’s perimeter.

Brandy gasped as Alator came into view on the other side of the fence. How had he gotten out? She’d have to figure that out later. Right now, the blood pooling around the black wolf was her top concern.

“Oh, God.” She scaled the fence without a second thought, Parker close behind her, the rifle held out and ready.

She dropped to her knees next to Alator, setting the tranq gun down on the ground. A snap of twigs off to her left made Brandy look over that way.

Hank Swift stood there, his own rifle by his side. “That monster lunged at me.”

“Why? What were you doing that he didn’t like, that I’m sure I wouldn’t like either?” Brandy was torn between tending to Alator and kicking Hank in the nuts.

Parker stepped between them, making the decision for her. “What are you doing over here, Hank? I think we’ve made it crystal clear that we don’t want you anywhere near our wolves.”

“And I’ve made it crystal clear if one of them sets foot on my land, I’ll shoot to kill.” He looked around Parker, and Brandy attempted to get to her feet.

Parker put his hand on her shoulder. “Take care of Alator. Stop that bleeding. I’ve got this.”

“You’re lucky I didn’t go for the kill shot,” Hank said.

“You’re lucky I don’t go for the kill shot right now,” Parker replied. “Get out of here.”

“I need your help, Parker. The bullet is still in his leg.” Brandy pulled off her shirt, happy she had a tank top under her short-sleeve button down today. She pressed the shirt into the wound, wincing when Alator let out another howl.

“Get out of here, Swift,” Parker repeated.

“One day these beasts are going to rip you two to shreds, and I’m going to find it fucking hysterical.” Hank stomped off, and it took all of Brandy’s resolve not to run after him, tackle him to the ground, and pound on his greasy face.

Parker kneeled beside her. “Let me see.” He put the rifle down and moved Brandy’s hand with her balled up shirt.

Blood immediately seeped from the wound and Alator’s breathing slowed. “Parker, he’s going into shock.”

Parker tossed his cell phone to Brandy. “Call Meredith. Tell her to get over here with a utility vehicle.”

Brandy’s fingers struggled to punch in her mother’s number. C’mon, c’mon. Pick up. Alator’s side was barely rising and falling. She knew that wound wasn’t fatal, but it was never good to have an unconscious, bleeding wolf.

“Hello?”

“Mom, can you get over to the eastern border of the sanctuary? Alator’s been shot.” The words all ran into one another.

“On it, honey.” Meredith disconnected, and Brandy was confident her mother wouldn’t waste a single second getting to their location.

“She’s on her way.” She slipped Alator’s head into her lap, encouraged when the wolf’s green-gold eyes gazed up at her. “It’s okay, big boy. I’ve got you.” She bent forward and pressed her lips to Alator’s jagged left ear. “You’re going to be fine.”

He had to be.

Brandy had no idea how this wolf had come to be near her property the first time she and Parker had found him, but he was part of her pack now. A special part. She’d do whatever it took to make sure he stayed a part of it.

She sure as hell was going to have another talk with Sheriff Olsen about Hank Swift too. There had to be something that could be done to stop his bullshit. Between traps and rifles, the man was a menace to the sanctuary. He had to be controlled.

Alator’s paw came to rest on her knee and she let go of her anger at Hank, focusing all her energy on the beautiful wolf in her lap instead. She stroked his massive paw and a vision of Reardon’s hand on her stomach last night flashed into her mind.

This is no time to be thinking of Reardon. How selfish could she be? Her favorite wolf was bleeding out right before her eyes and her mind was wandering to her erotic escapades of last night.

Squeezing her eyes shut to erase Reardon’s image, she took a deep breath then focused back on Alator. She caressed the wolf’s head, offering whispered words of comfort as Parker used her shirt like a tourniquet. Blood still flowed from the wound, soaking the dirt around the wolf, staining her shorts and bare legs, but she didn’t care. She wasn’t moving.

Alator’s eyes closed, his breathing slowing even more.

“Parker...”

“I hear the utility vehicle. We’ll have him in the clinic in a few minutes.” Parker stood and wiped his hands on his cargo shorts, leaving bloody streaks on the beige material.

Meredith kept the motor running as she helped them get Alator into the back of the vehicle. She sped over the bumpy terrain without slowing down. Bless her.

As a team, they carried Alator into the clinic where Dylan was waiting.

“Is he okay?” Tears filled the boy’s eyes, and Brandy squeezed her son to her side.

“We haven’t lost a wolf yet. Today is not the day we start.” She held Dylan at arm’s length. “Stand with Gram.”

Dylan nodded and stepped over to Meredith who took his hand and gathered him in an embrace from behind. “Let’s send your buddy all our positive vibes, okay?”

He grabbed onto Meredith’s forearms and closed his eyes, concentrating, but Brandy knew it was going to take more than positive vibes.

“Let’s do this,” Parker said.

Brandy readied a tranquilizer, but Alator was already unconscious.

“Give it to him anyway. We don’t want him to wake up while I’m poking around in there. He’s not going to like that and neither am I.” Parker went to the sink to wash up and prepare for surgery.

Brandy administered the tranquilizer then washed up to assist Parker. When she stood over Alator again, she traced her gloved finger along his ragged left ear and leaned down.

“Don’t you go anywhere, big boy,” she whispered. “I need you.”

****

I need you.

The words reached out to Reardon as his leg burned. The pain wasn’t as bad as it would be if he were a normal wolf or a normal human, but he was neither. It still hurt him enough to cause him to close his eyes and succumb to the tranquilizer Brandy had given him.

Through the haze, Flidae floated above him, her hair streaming out around her on some ethereal breeze and her leafy gown rustling a natural melody. There was a time when a visit from Flidae meant safety, refuge, protection.

Reardon knew this was not one of those times.

The human means too much to you, wolf. She distracts you from your goal here.

As far as Reardon understood, his goal was to do something worthy. He’d saved Brandy and Dylan from being crushed by that car. What more did he have to do?

You may have saved them, but that was my own test. To see proof of your feelings. You have yet to do anything real on your own, Reardon McAlator.

Fine. He’d do something on his own.

But then you’ll be mine again. I will return you to your Ireland, your time. What then of the woman and boy?

Reardon’s head hurt along with his leg now. What then indeed? If he met Flidae’s demands, he’d be ripped away from Brandy and Dylan. He didn’t want that. He was working toward becoming a larger part of their lives. If he didn’t want to leave, why should he strive to do something worthy?

Because these are my terms, wolf. Flidae’s form grew darker and larger, her eyes harsh glowing orbs, her mouth full of sharp, fang-like teeth. If you don’t continue to pay your penance and meet my challenge, your humans will die. Better to have them live without you than not live at all, no?

She shrank down to her original size, her natural beauty once again showing.

So he had to protect them even if he didn’t get to keep them?

You understand well.

With that, she faded from view, leaving Reardon in a blackness so complete he felt positively lost.

I need you. Brandy’s voice again. It grabbed hold of him and pulled him from the darkness. Flidae was right. It was better to have Brandy and Dylan alive and well without him. He’d do whatever it took to keep them safe, and if Flidae sent him back to his home, he’d spend his days loving what he couldn’t have.

Being a warrior meant sacrifice. This would be his ultimate one.

Reardon focused on breathing. In. Out. In. Out. Parker tended to his leg, but that pain was not much compared to the hurt in his heart now. He should leave the sanctuary to protect himself, but with Flidae’s threat still echoing between his ears, how could he? Brandy and Dylan were no match for a Celtic goddess, and if he wasn’t around to defend them... he couldn’t even think about what would happen.

No. He’d stay with them. He’d grow closer to them because he didn’t see how he could not. He’d only been at the sanctuary for a few weeks and already he loved both of them as if he’d known them his entire life. Now that he’d interacted with them in his human form, he couldn’t see how falling deeper for them could be avoided.

Blasted. Why had he been so foolish? Why had he been so driven for fame and riches that he’d turned his men into wolves, earning Flidae’s banishment? Why had he chosen to live such a brutal life?

Now he only wanted one life. One with Brandy and Dylan.

He surrendered to the fog and had no idea how much time had passed before the clouds lifted.

“His heart rate is growing steadier.” Parker’s voice reached him as he wavered between consciousness and unconsciousness.

“Thank God.” Sweet Brandy’s voice threw him a lifeline.

“Is he going to be all right, Mom?” Dylan’s anxious tone arrowed right to his heart.

“Of course he is. He’s a fighter.” Meredith’s vote of confidence brought him out of the trance.

The first thing he saw was Brandy’s face leaning over him. He wished he were in human form so he could reach for her, hold her, kiss her.

“Hey there, big boy.” She buried her face in the fur at his neck and he couldn’t stop the urgent whine that slipped from his throat. When Brandy rose, he licked every inch of her face until she was laughing heartily. Such a wonderful sound. “Okay, okay.” She stepped back and used the end of her tank top to wipe her chin.

“Guess he’s going to be totally fine.” Parker came into view next to Brandy, giving her a nudge. “He hasn’t lost his affection for you.”

“Jealous?” Brandy poked him back.

“Yeah, a little. I mean, I was the one that dug that bullet out. Why isn’t he this happy to see me?” Parker leaned on the exam table.

Reardon lifted his paw and rested it on Parker’s hand. It was the best he could do. He definitely was not going to give wolf kisses to the vet no matter how many times he tended his injuries.

“Aww, see? He loves you too, Dr. Daniels.” Brandy put her hand on Reardon’s other paw and gently stroked the fur there.

“He heard me complain.” Parker went over to the laptop he had open on the counter. “Alator is getting quite a record here. Broken leg. Bullet wound. At least I got the chance to do the physical, I guess.”

“There had to be an easier way,” Meredith said as she approached with Dylan.

The boy rested his head on Reardon’s mid-section as if it were a pillow. “What were you doing outside the fence, buddy?”

“Excellent question,” Brandy said. “There must be a gap somewhere. That’s next on today’s agenda. We can’t have any other wolves escaping. Apparently it’s ridiculously unsafe beyond the sanctuary boundaries.”

“In other words, be careful out there,” Meredith said to Dylan.

“Well, you check for gaps,” Parker said as he snapped his laptop shut. “I’m heading over to the sheriff’s.”

Brandy grabbed Parker’s forearm. “Thanks, Park.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I may still go over to Swift’s and shoot him in the leg.”

Reardon clenched his teeth, his claws extending and retracting as he remembered Hank Swift and how he’d come to have a bullet lodged in his leg. He’d been watching Brandy and Parker take wolf after wolf into the clinic for their physical examinations. Determined not to go through one himself—after all, how could he look Parker in the eye as a human if the man had put a thermometer where Reardon definitely did not want a thermometer—Reardon figured he’d escape from the confines of the sanctuary for a few hours so he could prepare for tonight.

When he’d see Brandy again.

As a human.

He needed something else to wear for he knew humans didn’t make a habit of wearing the same things consecutively. As a warrior, he’d worn armor most of the time. Plain and simple. Dented, scratched, and blood-stained armor. In Brandy’s time, variety was essential. He also wanted to bring something to drink as he’d done last night. She’d liked the wine, and he wanted to please her again. Maybe get some flowers too. Something to delight a fairy lass.

Reardon had hopped the perimeter fence, heading for his stash of money and clothing. As he was about to shift to human form, a snap of twigs stopped him. He sniffed the air and a familiar smell entered his nostrils but he couldn’t place it.

At first.

When Hank emerged from the trees, Reardon had gone immediately into defense mode.

“What are you doing out here, mutt?” Hank had sucked in a huge breath through his nose and spat out a load of phlegm big enough to drown any insects in its path.

Reardon let out a low growl, flashing his teeth in warning. Before he could turn around and run—for he was certain he could outrun this out-of-shape human—Hank had squeezed off a shot. The man’s aim was impeccable... unless of course he’d been aiming for a more fatal wound.

Regardless, Reardon couldn’t run with a bullet in his leg so he’d let loose a howl he’d hoped Brandy heard and sunk to the warm earth. Hank came to stand over him, and there was a moment where Reardon thought the man might end him completely. Instead, he nudged Reardon’s body with the tip of a worn-out boot.

“That fool girl and her wolves. Menace to the whole town.”

A few moments later, Brandy and Parker had arrived, Parker had talked with Hank, and Hank left, but Reardon was certain that wasn’t the end of Hank Swift. The man had a gift to be around when no wanted him to be. Now Reardon didn’t have what he needed for tonight.

Tonight!

Damn. He couldn’t make an appearance tonight in human form with this injury. Werewolves healed quickly, but not that quickly. If he shifted to human tonight, he’d be in more pain and there’d be a limp. A very noticeable one. He also had the feeling Brandy was going to check on him in wolf form often. What would happen if she found his wolf form missing? He couldn’t cause her that worry.

How could he cancel tonight? He spotted a phone on the wall in the clinic, but he’d have to shift to human to use it. Not that he had a number for Brandy anyway. Why hadn’t he asked for her number last night? Most likely because where he came from, phones didn’t exist and he didn’t have a phone number of his own to give her. Being a human in Brandy’s time was complicated.

The only thing Reardon could do was not show up tonight and hope Brandy would forgive him.

“Dylan?” Brandy’s voice brought him back to the here and now.

“Yeah, Mom?” Dylan ran his hands along Reardon’s back, and sleep threatened to overtake Reardon again.

“Will you and Gram watch over Alator while I check the fence for gaps?”

“Sure. Can we move Alator to a more comfy place?” Dylan asked.

“A great idea, kid.” Parker tugged on Dylan’s baseball cap. “Where do you want him, B? I’ll help move him before I go.”

Brandy hesitated, and Reardon couldn’t help setting his gaze on her. If he couldn’t be with her tonight in human form, he definitely knew where he wanted to be in wolf form. The very thought of spending the night in the clinic away from her made his leg hurt worse.

“In the house. That way we can keep a good watch on him.”

Reardon let out a small puff of air. She was either in tune to what he wanted or she wanted the same thing.

Together, Brandy, Parker, and Meredith lifted him and carried him into the house with Dylan opening doors ahead of them.

“Shit, he’s heavy,” Parker said, his voice strained.

“We’d have just as much trouble carrying you like this,” Brandy shot back.

“Oh, for the love of Christ, where are we putting him? Because I’m about to drop him.” Meredith sounded winded, and Reardon wished he was a smaller wolf.

Dylan ran off and returned a minute later, a book under his arm, dragging the bed Reardon hadn’t used once because he preferred staying in Brandy’s room. “He doesn’t use this, but maybe he’ll like it because he’s hurt.”

Again Brandy hesitated, and Reardon half expected her to insist they tote him up to her room, but that involved stairs and, unfortunately, wasn’t practical.

“Good idea, Dylan. Push it toward the couch more,” Brandy said.

Dylan did as she asked and the three adults carefully lowered Reardon to the bed. Something made a tapping sound in Parker’s hand as he passed a bottle to Brandy.

“Give him one of these every eight hours to keep him comfortable and low key.”

“Aye-aye, Doctor.” Brandy saluted him. “Call me after you visit the sheriff.”

“Will do.” With a pretend punch to Dylan’s shoulder, Parker left.

Dylan settled on the floor beside the bed and Reardon. The smell of the boy was comforting and sleep beckoned.

“I’ll take good care of him, Mom. I’m going to read him this Wolverine comic book.” Dylan waved the book he had under his arm.

“I’ll bet he’ll love that. I’ll be back as soon as I find out what’s up with the fence.”

Meredith stopped Brandy before she could leave. “Be careful if you go on the other side. Swift is not afraid to shoot anything that moves apparently.”

Brandy gave her mother a short nod and left the house. Reardon hoped she’d give up looking for that gap in the fence quickly.

Because there was no gap.

Chapter Twelve

After spending half the afternoon searching for apparently nonexistent gaps in the sanctuary’s fence, Brandy tended to the other wolves—because, oh yeah, fifteen other wolves lived at Silver Moon. Her mind had been so ultra-focused on Alator that her other sweet babies had been neglected. She made up for it with some playtime and extra treats, which appeared to be enough reparation on her part. She’d received happy licks and appreciative nuzzles from the pack and had made her way back to the house.

Where her eyes zeroed in on the one wolf who had completely stolen her heart.

Why? What in the world was so freaking special about Alator? Yes, he was bigger than the other wolves at Silver Moon, but it was more than that. Behind those green-gold eyes of his, Brandy saw... something.

“Hey, big boy,” she whispered as she approached his bed and got to her knees beside it.

The TV was on, and Dylan was sprawled on the couch, snoring like a much, much bigger human. Gently, she nudged him over to his left side, getting him off his back and silencing the roaring Mack truck sounds. He mumbled something about not wanting peas with dinner then buried his face in the couch cushions, continuing his nap.

Chuckling to herself, Brandy slid Dylan’s comic book onto the coffee table then turned her attention back to Alator who was now looking at her. His head was slightly raised off the fluffy bed as if to say, I’m not sleeping. Do you want to chat?

“Yeah, I do want to chat, buddy.” She sat on the floor by the bed and ran her hands up and down Alator’s front paws. His eyes disappeared in that face of black for a minute then focused back on her. “I’ve actually got a few questions that need answering.” She moved on to rubbing his jagged ear.

A low grumble vibrated out of him, followed by a tail wag and a paw over his nose, as if he were hiding from her.

“Oh, you don’t want to answer questions?” She grabbed his paw and pulled it off his snout. He licked her hand, his tongue rough yet warm. “Wolf kisses will do you no good. I want to know how you got to the other side of the fence, big boy. Because it’s not broken anywhere.”

She stared at him, half expecting an answer to flow from his canine lips. Of course, that was ridiculous. Wolves didn’t talk. Not with words anyway.

“Are you magical or something? You appeared in the woods out of nowhere. I can’t determine where you came from. You heal quickly from serious wounds. And then you can escape like Houdini. What’s that all about?”

Alator rolled to his back, a small whine sounding as he no doubt moved his injured leg too much. He managed to stay on his back though, his front paws hanging in front of him and his head tilted at a coy, aren’t-I-adorable manner.

“Yeah, yeah. You’re super cute, but that’s not what we’re talking about.”

“And what does one talk to wolves about?” Meredith walked into the living room carrying a glass of iced tea. She handed it to Brandy and sat in the recliner perpendicular to the couch.

Brandy took a swig of the tea, relishing its cool descent down her throat. Walking the entire perimeter of the sanctuary and playing with the other wolves out there in the summer temperatures had heated her up pretty good.

“Right now I’m grilling this one about how the hell he got outside the sanctuary.” She angled her hands at Alator who had rolled back to his side, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making her laugh.

“Let me guess,” Meredith said. “No fence issues.”

“Not a one. It’s as if he somehow beamed himself out.”

“The new question then is why he felt he needed to be on the other side. What did he see? What did he want? Where was he going?” Meredith settled deeper into the recliner, looking as if she might follow Dylan’s lead and take a nap as well.

Where was he going? That question bugged Brandy. Had Alator been trying to leave? Did he not like it at Silver Moon? Was there somewhere else he’d rather be?

Brandy squeezed her eyes shut. She wasn’t going to get answers to those questions either, so what was the point in thinking them? She looked back down at Alator. He met her gaze directly, and a vision of Reardon looking at her after they’d made love last night zipped across her mind, making her jolt.

What was that about? More importantly, what time was it?

She squinted at the time on the cable box under the TV and popped up. “Oh, shit!”

“What’s the matter?” Meredith opened one eye.

“I nearly forgot Reardon was coming by for dinner. I haven’t even cooked anything.” She pulled at her blood-stained shorts and brushed at her dirty knees. “I need to shower and change and...” She took a step toward the stairs then stepped back to Alator’s bed then pivoted again.

“Whoa there, missy.” Meredith got up and clamped her hands on Brandy’s shoulders to still her. “First of all, I started dinner already. Lasagna, veggies, fresh baked bread. Secondly...” She backed up a step and gave Brandy a judging once-over. “Uh, yeah, go take that shower.” She turned Brandy toward the stairs and gave her a little nudge. “Go on. And put on that purple sundress. It shows off your killer biceps nicely.”

“Mom...”

“What? Reardon strikes me as a man who likes killer biceps on a woman.” Meredith shrugged and settled back on the recliner after she swiped the remote from under Dylan.

Brandy took the stairs two at a time. She popped in her bedroom and did a quick tidy of the area, assuming—hoping, really—she and Reardon would be making use of the room again tonight. A buzzy giddiness she rather liked filled her.

After rummaging around in her closet for the dress Meredith had indicated, she skipped into the bathroom. Yeah, skipped. She indulged in a lavender-scented body wash as she scrubbed away the craziness of the day.

Forty-five minutes later she was as primped as she got, wearing the dress with a pair of silver sandals, her long red hair curled and gathered in a loose ponytail at the base of her neck. She’d pulled a few tendrils out to frame her face and had adorned her ears with amethyst teardrop earrings.

She felt... sexy.

Would Reardon think she was? He’d appeared to like her more casual look last night. What she looked like right now could only be considered an upgrade. He was a man after all. Surely he had to appreciate long, exposed legs and soft waves of red hair.

Right?

Shit. Why was she nervous all of a sudden? She hadn’t been nervous yesterday. She’d been aggressive and confident, knowing exactly what she wanted from Reardon and what she wanted to give him. Yesterday had been about thanking him for saving her and Dylan, though.

Tonight?

Well, tonight was because she wanted him. Pure and simple.

She made her way down the stairs and into the kitchen where Dylan and Meredith were eating at the small kitchen table. “Hey, why are you guys eating already?”

“We were hungry,” Meredith said. “Besides, the kid’s challenged me to a chess game and I simply cannot refuse such a challenge.”

Dylan giggled as Meredith poked him in his side with her index finger. “You’re gonna regret it, Gram. I plan to crush you.”

“Is that any way to talk to your dear, sweet granny?”

“Sweet?” Brandy let out a laugh. “You haven’t been sweet since... since... you’ve actually never been sweet.”

“Watch it.” Meredith gathered her plate and Dylan’s and stood. “I might forget I left something here and have to come back for it. I mean, I wouldn’t want to interrupt, but...”

Brandy gave her mother a narrow-eyed look then they smiled at each other.

“What would you interrupt, Gram?” Dylan’s blue gaze flicked between Brandy and Meredith as the two of them gaped back at the boy in silence.

“Stuff,” Meredith finally said. “Finish your milk.” She gestured to his still-full glass then turned back to Brandy with a smirk. “I left two salads in the refrigerator and the lasagna is keeping warm in the oven.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Brandy gave Meredith’s arm a squeeze. “What would I do without you?”

“Someday you’ll find out, but not for a very, very, very long time.” Meredith folded Brandy into a hug as Dylan took his empty milk glass to the dishwasher.

“Why are you all dressed up?” He frowned at Brandy’s dress and sandals. It was rare for the kid to see her all gussied up. She rarely gussied. Silver Moon apparel and shorts or cargo pants were the uniform of choice at the sanctuary.

“Reardon is coming over. I thought it might be nice if I dressed up.” Brandy bit her bottom lip as she waited for Dylan’s reaction to that.

He bent to tie his shoe. When he stood again, he tilted his head at her. “You like him?”

“I do.” Another moment of holding her breath. This wasn’t territory the two of them ventured into often. Brandy had only dated a few guys through the years, and Dylan had been much younger then. Now he was aware of things.

“Me, too. He’s cool.”

Brandy let the breath she’d been holding sift out. “I’m glad you like him too.”

Dylan didn’t say anything more about the topic. Instead he tugged on Meredith’s hand. “I want to play with my chess set. Can you help me pack it up?”

“But of course, child.” Meredith gave Brandy a little salute followed by a wink. “Have fun.”

Brandy waved as her mother left the kitchen with Dylan. She spent a few moments tidying then set the patio table for dinner with Reardon. They’d enjoyed last night out there by the fire and it was shaping up to be another glorious evening outside.

After she’d finished, she picked a bouquet of wildflowers and vased them in an old mason jar. That seemed a fitting centerpiece for the table. Glancing at the clock when she came back into the kitchen, she realized they’d never actually mentioned a specific dinner time for tonight. It was 6:30 now. Reardon had to be on his way.

God, I hope he’s on his way. Because she was stupidly eager to see him. After the day’s events, she wanted to kick back and look at something pretty. Reardon was definitely something pretty.

Walking into the living room and noting that Dylan’s shoes were gone from where he’d kicked them off by the couch, she looked at Alator who was also something pretty. He was still on the bed, curled up in a tight ball. Well, as tight a ball as a wolf his size could manage.

“Feeling better?” She carefully kneeled by the bed, trying her best not to let her dress touch the wolf or the floor.

Alator grumbled like an old man then sniffed at the bandage on his leg.

“Being shot sucks, huh?” Not that she’d know, thank God. “Maybe you’ll stay on our side of the fence now.” She didn’t want to think about what Hank Swift might do if he encountered one of her wolves again.

Speaking of Hank.

Brandy got up and found her cell phone on the coffee table. She swiped the screen, but didn’t see any messages so she texted Parker.

What happened with sheriff?

She tapped her finger on the side of the phone as she waited. A few seconds later the phone let out a quiet wolf howl, signaling she had an incoming message.

Olsen is checking on HS’s gun permits. Trying to see if it’s all legal.

Well, that was a start at least, but knowing Swift, he had all the proper permits. He took his guns seriously.

If that goes nowhere, not giving up, Parker texted. Wolves must be protected.

Brandy texted back, Otherwise what is our point?

Roger that, Boss. Security cams got installed while you were inspecting fence. I stopped in and met with guy. Will show you how they work tomorrow.

She glanced at Alator. His green-gold eyes were tracking her every movement. She felt like... like prey. Of course all the wolves at the sanctuary were wild at heart. She could think all she wanted that she’d tamed them, but it wouldn’t take much for any one of them to rip into her. She obviously hoped that never happened, but the way Alator looked at her right now was a good reminder of the strength and agility rippling under all that fur.

K. Thanks. Feel better with cams, she texted. Plans tonight?

Chella’s father’s birthday dinner. Kinda boring, but at least there’s lobster.

Just like Parker to be thinking of his stomach.

Have fun. Later.

See u tomorrow.

She dropped her phone back on the coffee table and sat on the edge of the couch, fluffing the skirt of her dress out around her so as not to wrinkle it. Alator still had his eyes on her.

“What?” She rolled her eyes. “Do I look that desperate?”

Alator let out a short bark.

“Is that a yes? You’d better take it back if it was a yes.” She held her fist out at him, shaking it slightly.

The wolf put his paw over his nose again, and she had to laugh.

“I’ve never seen you so coy, Alator.” Unable to resist, she got back to her knees by the bed. Why was she drawn like a magnet to this wolf? She rubbed his exposed tummy and his good back leg swung back and forth rapidly. “Careful now. You’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

She put her hands in her lap, but Alator maneuvered until he could nudge her hands with his nose.

“Hey, watch it. You’re going to ruin my dress.” She swatted playfully at his nose then rubbed between his eyes until the green-gold fire of his gaze disappeared behind black fur. “Maybe I changed up too soon. I’d love to cuddle with you, buddy, but this outfit is not for cuddling.” She thought of Reardon. “Not for cuddling with wolves anyway.”

Cuddling with men could be accomplished in the dress, though. Cuddling out of the dress would be great too.

If the man, like, ever arrived.

Brandy looked at the clock on the TV again. 7:00. Surely, Reardon was on his way now. There’d be a soft knock on her door at any moment. She’d answer and have to look up—way up—to meet his unusual eyes. She’d greet him with a kiss. Or was that too forward?

I slept with him the first day I met him. What could be more forward than that? Too late to be shy.

So, yeah. She’d greet him with a kiss, feed him, and hopefully have an encore performance of last night’s activities.

A slow ripple of excitement flitted through her as she sat back on the couch. She’d wait for that knock and let another magical evening with her personal hot hero unfold.

****

Brandy’s lovely chest rose and fell as she dozed on the couch near Reardon’s bed. She’d taken a seat to wait for him in his human form. When he hadn’t shown after an hour, she’d rested her head against the back of the couch. She’d let a few curse words fly then closed her eyes. Asleep now for two hours, she hadn’t budged from her position.

He was a terrible person for standing her up, but it couldn’t be helped. The situation demanded he stay in wolf form. Nothing he could do about it. Plus, he was exhausted and angry and wishing he could take a bite out of Hank Swift. If it weren’t for that bastard, Reardon would be slow dancing on the patio with Brandy in his arms. Instead he was forced to merely watch her while his leg healed.

And what was an acceptable time for a bullet wound to heal when you were a werewolf? His battlefield injuries had never lasted long. A few days at most. His biggest scar on his left side across his ribs had been from a slash with a broad sword. That had taken three days to heal. If the ache in his leg now was any indication, this bullet wound would take about that long too.

How am I going to stay away from Brandy for that long in human form?

But he’d have to. Especially if she was planning to keep such a close watch over his wolf form and keep him in the house. No sneaking off under those conditions.

Not that he wanted to sneak off. Leaving Silver Moon Sanctuary was the last thing he wanted. He’d be quite content to live out his many years right there on that beautiful property. In the company of a beautiful woman and her beautiful son.

That wasn’t possible though, was it? Flidae had told him so. If he wanted Brandy and Dylan to be safe, he’d have to follow Flidae’s rules—do something worthy and go back to Ireland. How was he supposed to survive in his time now? He’d seen too many modern inventions. He’d come to understand how life worked in the future. He’d grown accustomed to the feel of life in this time, in this place, with these people. Going back to his Ireland would be like taking a million steps backward in time. Would he be able to stand that way of life?

Would he be able to go back to being a warrior, bent on killing for riches?

No. That Reardon McAlator was gone. Of that he was sure. He didn’t want to be a killer anymore. He didn’t want to be alone. What did he want instead?

He zoomed in on Brandy as she shifted on the couch and brought her toned legs up underneath her.

That’s what I want right there.

Brandy had taken him into her world, cared for him, shared her time with him. She showed the wolves the same affection she showed the important people in her life as if they were all her family. She didn’t see a distinction between people and wolves.

Which could work in his favor once he revealed what he was. Maybe she’d easily transfer her feelings for Alator, the wolf, to Reardon McAlator, the man.

And then I’ll have to leave her.

He let out a low grumble and huffed out some air. These thoughts were doing him no good. Neither was being on that bed. Immobile wasn’t something he did very often... or very well. Besides, Brandy was all the way over there on the couch. Too far away in his mind.

Gingerly, he got to his three good legs and stretched, careful to keep his injured leg from taking any of his weight. Moving at an embarrassing speed, Reardon maneuvered to the couch. He sniffed a line along Brandy’s leg and when she didn’t stir, he hoisted himself up onto the cushion beside her. He banged his hurt leg slightly and had to bite back a howl of pain.

Brandy still didn’t move, so he inched closer until he could rest his head on her hip. As soon as his chin touched her, however, her entire body jolted, scaring him. He reared back and fell off the couch, landing on his bad leg.

The howl ripped from his throat now.

“Oh my GOD!” Brandy popped off the couch and immediately got on her hands and knees beside him, not seeming to care about her dress now. “I’m so sorry, big boy.” She leaned over him, dropping kisses all over his muzzle and his ears, spending a few extra seconds on his damaged left ear. Gods, he loved when she touched that ear, as if she accepted him no matter his imperfections.

He sat still, hoping Brandy would keep kissing and touching him forever, but after checking on his wounded leg, she eventually got to her feet and brushed the wrinkles out of her dress.

“Well, I guess this is all the kissing that’s going to happen tonight.” She gestured at herself. “Perfectly good waste of a dress.”

Reardon wished he could tell her the dress had not been wasted. He’d enjoyed seeing her look so fantastic. Of course, she looked fantastic naked too. Really fantastic. He’d been looking forward to making love to her again tonight, hence why he’d jumped the fence in the first place. Being a wolf and a man had never been this difficult. His life was much simpler when he’d just been a warrior who paid little attention to weak-minded things such as feelings.

“9:30. I guess it’s time to admit defeat on this one and put on the jammies.” She unleashed a long, loud sigh, her bare shoulders sagging as she slunk away toward the stairs. “Be right back, buddy.”

She trudged up the stairs and Reardon considered shifting right there in the living room. He desperately wanted to follow her up those stairs, but he’d be no more able to do that in human form than he could in wolf form. His leg really hurt now that he’d fallen off the couch. Shifting to human would intensify that pain at least tenfold. He’d also scare Brandy if he suddenly appeared behind her as a human. A naked human.

So he waited. Right there. On the living room floor.

When Brandy came back downstairs, she had on a pair of purple cotton shorts and a matching tank top. She looked sexy and comfortable at the same time. Reardon couldn’t decide if he preferred this look or the dressy look. Quite possibly he’d like any look on Brandy.

“All righty.” She blew out a breath and gathered her hair in a messy bun. “Now that everyone is more comfortable.” She angled her head at him. “Well, you don’t look as if you’re comfortable, baby.”

Baby? Reardon McAlator had never been called baby. Under normal circumstances, he would have been enraged by such a name. But these were not normal circumstances, now were they?

“Are you hungry?” She crouched by him and leaned forward enough that he could see down her tank top. “Because I’m starving. Time to see...” Her words trailed off. “Shit, I never took Mom’s lasagna out of the oven.” She stood and padded on bare feet to the kitchen.

Reardon heard some things banging around and in a few moments, Brandy came back into the living room with a bowl of popcorn, a bottle of beer, and another bowl he couldn’t see into, but could definitely smell.

Meat.

After setting her snacks down on the coffee table, she placed the bowl of meat pieces by his head and he immediately devoured all of it.

“My, you were starving too.” She disappeared again and reappeared with a water bowl, which Reardon sloshed down too, trying his best not to dribble it all over the hardwood floors.

Brandy took the bowl away and when she came back this time, she had a bean bag chair which Reardon knew was from Dylan’s room.

“Let’s get you on your bed and I’ll sit next to you. What do you say, big boy?”

He gave one powerful thump of his tail, and Brandy laughed as she helped him slink onto his bed. The cushiony mattress was comfortable, preferable to the hard floor he’d slept on in her bedroom since Hank Swift had attacked her. He should have dragged the bed into Brandy’s bedroom weeks ago.

“There we are.” Brandy pushed the bean bag chair next to the bed, grabbed the bowl of popcorn and the TV remote. “What do you feel like watching?” She angled her head as if she were listening to a reply.

If only I could reply.

“Yes, you’re right. Definitely nothing mushy.” As her gaze turned to the TV, her jaw muscles tightened, and a hurt look crept into her lovely blue eyes that Reardon desperately wanted to erase, especially because he was responsible for causing that look.

He put his paw on her thigh and she looked down at him. I would have shown up tonight if I could have.

“What, you want something on the National Geographic Channel?” She scratched the back of his jagged ear. “So what happened here anyway?” She leaned closer, fingering the scalloped edge of the ear. “More importantly, what did the other guy look like when you were done with him?”

An excellent question. The other guy had lost his entire arm to the slash of Reardon’s broad sword. Didn’t fix his ear, but it made him feel vindicated all the same. To hear the howl of his opponent as blood gushed from the remaining stump made Reardon not care that his own ear had been sliced like a tomato, the missing piece mixing with the carnage strewn all over the battlefield. Jaemus had been the one to stitch up his ear. Hadn’t done too neat of a job either, but it was the best he could hope for so the fight could continue.

Speaking of fights continuing, where was Jaemus now? They hadn’t parted on the best of terms, his brother mad at him for bringing the curse of the wolf upon the men. Still, he wanted Jaemus to be safe. Had he gotten dumped in a time and place as nice as Reardon had? Had luck been on his side? Or was Jaemus being subjected to a hellish experience?

Would he ever see his brother again?

You will, wolf. Flidae filled the space between his ears. Another reminder that his time with Brandy was not infinite. He shook his head, earning a sideways glance from Brandy.

“Everything okay, buddy?” Her blue eyes zeroed in on his face as if she were truly waiting for him to answer.

He let out a short, quiet bark then nudged her popcorn bowl with his nose.

“Oh, you want some snacks too?” She held the bowl out of reach, but plucked out a handful of popcorn and put her cupped hand in Reardon’s reach.

He crunched the popcorn, liking the salty flavoring, loving the smell of Brandy’s skin. He decided right then and there he wanted to share popcorn with Brandy in human form as soon as possible.

“All right, let’s see what our choices are, shall we?” She used the remote to flick through the guide on the TV, mumbling to herself, sometimes shaking her head.

Words scrolled by so fast, Reardon could hardly read them before Brandy selected a choice and a dark-haired girl and a long-haired Native American boy filled the screen.

“Twilight. I’ve seen it a million times, but keep hoping things will work out in Jacob’s favor.” Brandy settled more into the bean bag chair and took a sip of her beer. “I mean, werewolves are way cooler than vampires, don’t you think, big boy?”

Werewolves?

Reardon turned his attention to the TV where the boy was walking along a gray beach with the girl. He was telling her something about a legend and descendants of wolves.

“You have to wait until the next movie to see him turn into a wolf though.” She pointed to the boy. “They did a pretty good job with the wolves, special effects-wise. At least I think so. Don’t ask Parker though. He’ll completely disagree and make fun of this entire series.” She let out a small laugh. “He’s probably right to make fun. Someone my age shouldn’t find these movies entertaining, but I can’t help myself. In fact...”

She wiggled herself out of the bean bag chair and jogged out of the room. When she returned, she had her laptop with her.

“I want to show you something.” She opened the laptop and lowered back into the bean bag chair, shifting around until she was comfortable. After tapping the keyboard for a few moments, she turned the screen toward him. “So, I’ve been collecting information on clinical lycanthropy for years. Silly, right?” She waved her hand. “Well, I don’t care if it is silly. It’s my secret hobby. No one knows except you, Alator, and you won’t tell anyone, will you?”

As she petted him and scrolled through the information, Reardon skimmed the text on the screen. Words like shifting humans, metamorphosis, transition, and canine form popped out at him.

“Most of the research concludes that people who believe they can change from human to animal are crazy, but still it’s all so fascinating.” She scratched between Reardon’s ears. “The notion of a human and an animal inhabiting the same consciousness is wild. I imagine it must be confusing.”

Only when a beautiful woman is involved.

Chapter Thirteen

Brandy read through a few more pages of her secret clinical lycanthropy file then snapped her laptop shut. She put the computer on the floor beside the bean bag chair and turned to face Alator.

“You must think I’m crazy. It’s completely foolish to want lycanthropy to be real. What the hell kind of scientist am I? A science fiction scientist apparently.” She puffed out a long breath and put her attention back onto Bella and Jacob filling the screen. “I have to stop watching this shit too. Doesn’t help me stay in the real world.”

She picked up the remote and went back to the TV’s guide screen, but Alator put his massive paw on her thigh. Again, she was reminded of Reardon’s big hand on her stomach last night.

Last night. When we were both naked. Together.

Not at all like tonight when Reardon stood her up. He could have at least called to say he wasn’t interested in coming over anymore.

“Wait a minute.” She looked down at Alator’s paw on her thigh. “I didn’t give Reardon my number, did I?” Poor guy had no way to contact her if he’d had to cancel. Maybe... maybe something happened to him. “Oh, no.” She hated that thought, but it made sense. Not that the only reason a guy would stand her up was because something horrendous had happened to him, but Reardon didn’t seem like an asshole who wouldn’t show. True, she’d only known him for a day. He could be so many things she didn’t even know about yet, but a jerk didn’t seem like a possibility.

Not the way he made love to her. As if she were a treasured gift or something.

She grabbed her phone off the coffee table as she put Twilight back on, seeing as how Alator had been letting out small whines since she’d changed the channel. “What, are you in love with Bella too?”

Alator swung his head away from the TV, his green-gold gaze connecting with hers as his head tilted one way then the other. Was he trying to tell her something? If so, what?

Shaking her head over thinking a wolf was attempting to communicate with her, she tapped her phone and found the number she was looking for.

“Canville Police and Fire Department,” the night operator said in a sleepy voice.

“Colleen, hello. It’s Brandy. And you realize you answered your own cell phone, not the Canville Police and Fire Department line, right?”

“Hey, Brandy. Uhh, yeah. ‘Canville Police and Fire Department’ rolls out of my mouth whenever a phone rings. Sorry. What’s up? Is that nasty Hank Swift up to no good again? I can have a unit out there in record time to haul his ass into town.” Colleen was always full of fire.

“No. Nothing with Hank, but I was wondering if you could check the records and tell me if any ambulances were sent out today.”

“Sure, but why?”

Tapping sounded and Brandy knew Colleen was typing on her computer, looking up the ambulance calls. It paid to have a buddy who answered the phones at the town’s safety complex.

“Someone was supposed to meet me tonight and he didn’t show. I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“And that he didn’t stand you up. I don’t see how anyone could stand you up, chickie. You’re freaking gorgeous and if you’d come over to my team, we could be happy for the rest of our lives.”

“You know I love you, Colleen, but I can’t be with someone who is prettier than me.”

Colleen barked out a laugh that made Brandy have to hold the phone away from her ear and laugh along. “Slick, Wendon. Really slick. Okay, according to today’s log, no ambulances went out today. I also checked the police files and it was a low crime day. Two parking tickets, one minor fender-bender with no injuries reported, and a formal complaint filed against one Hank T. Swift by one Dr. Parker I’d-Do-Him-If-I-Wasn’t-Gay Daniels, but I assume you knew about that last one because your name is mentioned in the complaint.”

The line went quiet for a moment, and Brandy assumed Colleen was reading the details of the complaint.

“Aww, shit, Brandy. One of your wolves got shot by that redneck bastard?”

“Yeah. Alator, the newest wolf.” My favorite wolf. Brandy smiled at the way Alator had his head resting on the paw he’d put on her thigh. With barely perceptible movements, he wiggled a little more of his head onto her lap, a little more, a little more until his entire head spanned across both her thighs.

“When is Olsen going to lock up Swift’s ass? I mean, what’s it going to take? Nobody likes him. Today a wolf gets shot, tomorrow it could be a person.”

A ripple of fear undulated through Brandy. It had been exactly what she’d been thinking. It was bad enough she had to worry about her wolves getting hurt, but if Dylan or Meredith or Parker were harmed by Hank, she’d lose it. Sheriff Olsen would be locking her up. She was certain of it.

“Let’s hope it never comes to a person getting hurt. Parker had security cameras installed, so that should help keep a better eye on things.” She swallowed around the lump in her throat. “So, no mention of a tall, dark-haired man in any of today’s reports then?”

“Not a one. Give me a name though, and I can check more specifically for you.”

“Reardon.”

“Reardon what?”

“See, here’s the thing...” Boy, did she feel like an idiot. Not only did she and Reardon not exchange phone numbers, she also didn’t know the hunk’s last name. God, she was turning into some kind of backwoods slut who slept with men she barely knew. Ugh. “I don’t know his last name.”

“You made a date with a man whose last name you don’t know?” Colleen chuckled. “Oh, Brandy, Brandy, Brandy. I didn’t know you had it in you, sister.”

“Had what in me? The ability to be a hussy?” She smacked her palm to her forehead and wanted to crawl under a rock.

“Hussy? Brandy, it takes more than that to be a full-fledged hussy. I would know. I have a degree in hussiness, you know. Nothing to be embarrassed about, girlie. I’m glad to hear you’re having some fun with something besides all those wolves.”

“Well, I certainly had fun last night, but he didn’t show tonight.” Now she was back to wondering if he truly wasn’t interested. They’d only had the one night together. It wasn’t as if he owed her any kind of loyalty or anything. She’d been thanking him for saving her and Dylan. Maybe that was just the end of it.

“Has to be a good reason. No man with a functional penis would turn down a second chance to see you, gorgeous.”

“Well, thanks, Colleen. You always know how to cheer me up.”

“If I wasn’t working, I’d come bring you some wine and we could get good and liquored and bash men until the sun came up. Unfortunately, I’m stuck here until 2:00 a.m. this shift.”

“No worries. I’m over it. I’d set out to thank him for saving Dylan and me from that car that crushed my SUV in town yesterday. I wasn’t trying to develop this big, deep relationship.” But, hell, that would have been nice.

“Sure, sure. I get you. A little thank you sex. Fun times. So what are you going to do because he didn’t show?”

“Wallow, I think.”

“Don’t wallow too long. I hear wallowing causes wrinkles and that’d be a damn shame on your lovely face. Let’s get together soon, okay? I believe it’s my turn to crush your tiny ass in Scrabble, is it not?”

“You never win at Scrabble against me, lady.” Colleen was absolutely the worst speller in the universe, but that didn’t stop her from trying.

“Doesn’t mean I shall give up. I’m a fighter, Brandy. To the d-e-t-h.”

“D-e-a-t-h, Colleen.”

“Right. Whatevs. Call me tomorrow and let’s schedule some girl time.”

“Okay. Thanks. Bye.”

Brandy hung up as Jacob warned Bella to stay away from Edward on the TV. Yeah, as if she was going to listen. That teenager had it bad for Edward, which Brandy never understood because there was Jacob, looking all hot and Native American and werewolf-about-to-shift. Stupid teenage girls. They never saw what was right in front of them.

Snuggling with Alator relieved some of the disappointment of the evening, and Brandy refused to let herself think about the fact that Reardon hadn’t shown. For whatever reason, he hadn’t come and she’d have to deal with it. Forget about it. Move on. She was used to being alone anyway.

“Actually, there’s no need for me to be alone, is there?” She picked up her phone again and texted Meredith.

Reardon didn’t come. Dylan can come home.

A moment later, Meredith texted back. Too late. Kid is unconscious. Didn’t even make it through one Spiderman movie. Return him in the a.m. What happened w/ Reardon?

What happened with Reardon? Excellent question. Nothing happened. Don’t know. No biggie. See you tomorrow.

Night, kid. Love you.

Brandy dropped her phone in her lap and finished watching Twilight while absently rubbing Alator’s silky fur. None of the other wolves had fur quite like his. Though it was thick and black as a moonless midnight, it was still so soft. She frequently had the urge to bury her face in the fluff.

“And on that note, it’s probably time for bed.” She heaved in a huge breath and sifted it out slowly. “C’mon, big boy. Move over. We must part ways now.”

Alator let out a small whine and nestled his head deeper into her lap as if saying, I’m staying right here, lady. All night long.

“Well, you don’t get to decide. The two-leggeds are in charge around here, mutt.” She carefully slipped her hands under his head and lifted gently so she could slide—none too gracefully—fromunder him.

The huge wolf groaned like an old man, stretched out his three good limbs, then pulled everything into a tight ball on his bed.

Damn, he’s adorable.

Brandy shot a quick glance to the couch, considering for half a minute sleeping downstairs to be near Alator. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she scolded herself. “You have a perfectly wonderful bed upstairs. This wolf will be fine without you, Dr. Wendon.”

She grabbed her empty beer bottle and the popcorn bowl and took care of them in the kitchen. Popping her head back into the living room, she said, “Good night, Alator. Thanks for keeping me company. See you in the morning.”

Alator raised his head and blinked green-gold eyes at her. He twitched his jagged ear and thumped his tail a few times.

“Oh, you don’t like that I’m heading upstairs? Well, it’ll be morning before you know it. You’d better get your rest. You need it so that leg of yours will heal nicely. You want to be running around with the rest of the pack, don’t you?”

More tail thumping.

“Don’t be such a baby. Sweet dreams, big boy.” She blew him a kiss and headed upstairs to her bedroom.

Her dark, empty bedroom. A room that had been so much more fun last night with Reardon in it. A room that needed a male presence.

“Face it, girl. It’s just you and the sheets tonight.”

She sighed, used the bathroom, then climbed into bed, pulling only the light sheet over her. The windows were open, letting in sounds of the night. Crickets chirping. Cicadas singing. Water in the brook on the property bubbling. Sounds she’d become accustomed to while living at Silver Moon Sanctuary all these years. Sounds that kept her company.

When men did not.

****

Reardon listened for sounds of Brandy upstairs. When he didn’t hear any, he closed his eyes and shifted to human. He had to put his hands over his mouth to muffle the pained groans threatening to spill out. Gods, his shot leg hurt. Damn that fool Hank Swift. Reardon was accustomed to sword jabs, spear gouges, the occasional fist to the jaw, but a bullet beat all of those in the pain department. Weapons were one thing of the future Reardon definitely did not like.

Moving slowly, he sat up on the wolf bed Brandy and Dylan had so lovingly provided. Bless them. He’d never been taken care of so well in his life. Even his own mother hadn’t been as concerned about his status as the Wendons were.

And I’ve gone and hurt Brandy. It killed him that he’d disappointed her by not showing up this evening. Only he had shown up. He’d been with her all night just not in a form she could recognize or accept.

Or could she? Reardon glanced back to the TV, its screen now dark, and thought of the movie Brandy had been watching. She favored the werewolves. She’d also shared her research notes on lycanthropy with him. She was interested in humans shifting into animals.

But she thinks it’s all fantasy.

“Time to show her it’s not,” he whispered. If any human could accept what he was, Reardon was convinced it was Dr. Brandy Wendon. The trick was to reveal himself in a way that wouldn’t scare her or anger her.

He looked down at his throbbing calf. The bandage had torn off because his wolf leg was a lot thinner than his human one. Inspecting the bullet wound, he was impressed by the neat stitching Parker had done. A single, straight line of black stitching closed the injury and aside from a little dried blood and a general puffiness to the surrounding skin, everything looked good to Reardon. Still, the site should be covered. Especially if he were to go outside to retrieve some clothing from his hiding spot.

Reardon used his arms and good leg to maneuver to the couch. Using the piece of furniture for balance, he got to his feet and stood still, waiting to see how much pain that position would cause. Blood rushed around his body and beat a rhythm right on his wound. Again, he had to put his hand over his mouth to keep from vocalizing his pain.

Moving at a pace no fierce warrior would ever admit to, Reardon stumbled his way to the downstairs bathroom. He rummaged around until he found some gauze and tape. Sitting bare-assed on the toilet seat, he managed to wrap his leg, trying his best to keep his efforts noiseless. If Brandy woke up now and found him naked in her bathroom, his chances of not scaring her flew out the window.

Satisfied that his wound was sufficiently protected and taking some extra gauze and tape with him, he heaved in a few deep breaths, preparing to walk to the front door and go outside. It wasn’t that far from the bathroom to the front door, but in his current state, it felt like miles and miles. Plus, he still had to make it to the entrance gates—no way he was jumping any fences tonight—and tramp through the woods to his supplies. A fresh sweat broke out on his forehead.

I have to do this.

If he didn’t come to Brandy as a human soon, she’d dismiss him. If she dismissed him, he could never reveal what he was to her. If he didn’t reveal what he was to her, she’d never know that all her research wasn’t a silly hobby.

If she didn’t know it wasn’t a silly hobby, she’d never accept him for what he truly was.

What does it matter, wolf? Flidae. Not what he needed right now.

Gritting his teeth, he thought, Even if I don’t get to keep her, I will take this time with her.

I love how you think you are in control, Reardon McAlator. Flidae’s laughter filled his head as painfully as his leg throbbed. You are not.

He clamped his hands over his ears, but her voice still echoed in his skull.

You banished me, Flidae. Deemed me unfit to receive your protection, yet you continue to watch me. Why?

A long beat of silence stretched on, and Reardon didn’t think she was going to answer him.

My punishment was not without terms, wolf. You are to do something worthy. I am simply monitoring your progress.

In order to make progressing more difficult.

Perhaps. And I’m aware of your intention to reveal yourself to this human. Do you think that’s wise?

I don’t want there to be secrets anymore. I think she can handle the knowledge.

A heartbeat of silence. Well, this changes things.

She left his consciousness before he could ask what her statement meant. A wave of dizziness swept over him. He leaned forward and rested his head on his knees, breathing deeply. Angering a goddess had been a foolish move. He’d learned his lesson on that one, but he had to push forward on his plan to tell Brandy what he was. He couldn’t waste any more time because he didn’t know how much he had.

On a silent count of three, Reardon pushed off the toilet and braced himself in the doorway of the small bathroom as all the blood again rushed down to his hurt leg. His fingernails dug into the wood door frame as he fought off the pain. Hopefully Brandy wouldn’t notice the indentations.

He poked his head out of the bathroom and focused his gaze on the front door. It was a straight path, but he dreaded making the journey all the same. Inhaling and exhaling several deep breaths, he took a step and immediately wanted to crumple to the ground.

Crawling to the door might be better anyway.

Reardon slid noiselessly to the floor and used his arms mostly to slither to the front door. By the time he got there, his forehead was covered in sweat and he’d bunched up the long rug Brandy had lining the path to the door. Doing his best to fix the rug, he grabbed hold of the doorknob and pulled himself to standing. He caught sight of an umbrella in a bin by the door and fished that out, using it as a cane. It probably wasn’t strong enough, but he put as much of his weight on it as he could.

With the prowess of a professional burglar, he opened the door and slipped out into the darkness. His progress to the entrance gates was slow and laborious. Several of the other wolves gathered behind him as he struggled. Lug sidled up next to him, Midir on his other side. They nudged his hands as if to say, Lean on us.

“If you were a little bit bigger, I would. Thank you, my friends.” He paused to catch his breath and scratched both wolves between the ears.

Lug licked at the bandage, a small whine escaping his throat.

“I’ll be fine, Lug.”

The other wolves took turns rubbing against him, their concern touching him in ways he couldn’t have imagined. He’d never had a pack. He’d had his army of men, but that was not the same as having a loyal wolf pack, canine brothers and sisters who genuinely cared for him. Perhaps in changing his men to wolves, that was what he’d been looking for—a wolf family. Unfortunately, he now knew turning men to wolves without their consent did not create the bonds he sought.

Only wolves by birth could provide that connection.

Not so, wolf. Flidae again. Couldn’t he have a moment’s peace? There is but one human you can turn to wolf who would be truly connected to you. That is why you can turn humans. For that reason alone. To find your soul mate.

And that was why he’d been in violation of wolf code. He’d turned men into wolves to make killing machines.

Ah, recognition of your mistake. That is progress, wolf. Again, Flidae faded from his mind.

One moment the goddess was angry at him, the next she sounded pleased. That was why Reardon found females—human or divine—so complex. Regardless, the woman back in that log cabin was worth the trouble, so he continued his approach to the entrance gates.

A quiet but steady hum vibrated from the gates. It was a new sound to Reardon, and the other wolves appeared to hear it too, but he unlatched the gates anyway and paused to address the wolves.

“I will be back in a moment, friends.”

He closed the gate, got to the ground, and shifted to wolf form. He could at least jog on three legs through the woods to get to his supplies and speed things up a bit.

When he was dressed in his jeans and a gray T-shirt, his injured leg bandaged beneath the denim, Reardon used the umbrella and limped heavily back to the entrance gates. That humming noise was still present, but he couldn’t sense where it was coming from. The other wolves waited for him, their loyalty and concern touching Reardon in ways he didn’t think possible.

After opening the gates and coming back into the sanctuary, he ambled to the log cabin. The sky was dark and morning was still several hours away. Reardon circled around to the back of the house and sat in one of the patio lounge chairs where he and Brandy had enjoyed each other’s company last night.

Figuring he’d wait for morning there, he stretched out his legs, easing the pressure off his hurt one. He set the umbrella down on the patio beside the chair and let out a quiet chuckle when all fifteen of the wolves spread out on the ground abutting the patio. Like a protective circle, their energy surrounded him and he wondered if they truly knew what he was. That he was like them, but not. They appeared to understand and it warmed him to know he had that connection with them. Though he didn’t belong in this time and place, he didn’t feel alone. Not like he often had in his life before this point.

When Reardon opened his eyes next, morning sun embraced him. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and turned a highly tuned ear toward the log cabin behind him. He immediately picked up the sounds of water running through pipes and imagined Brandy taking a shower. That image made parts of him awaken as he pictured her lovely, naked form covered in water droplets.

He listened until the water noises stopped. At that point, he reached down, grabbed the umbrella, and got to his feet. He tested his injured leg and found it to be tender but not as bad as it had been last night. In fact, he took a few steps away from the lounge chair without incident or cringing in agony.

The upside to being a werewolf. While he knew the wound was still healing, the bulk of the mending had happened while he was asleep. In the next two days or so, the injury would be totally gone save for a slight scar. Scars always lingered... as reminders he supposed.

Reardon set the umbrella on the lounge chair and made his way to the front door of the cabin. Some of the wolves followed him while others continued their early sunbathing. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, Dylan came running over with Meredith a few steps behind him.

“Hey, Reardon!” the boy said, his face full of a delight that made Reardon’s heart swell.

“Good morning, Dylan.” Reardon couldn’t help smiling back at the boy.

“Are you coming over for breakfast?” Dylan asked.

Reardon hesitated and Meredith filled the silence. “Of course he is. Doesn’t he look like a man who knows breakfast is the best meal of the day?”

Dylan squinted up at him, sunshine illuminating the boy’s face. “He looks like a man who thinks all meals are the best.”

Meredith laughed. “Good call, kid.” She put her arm around the boy’s shoulders and looked at Reardon, a squinty-eyed expression on her face similar to Dylan’s. “Did you get held up last night somehow?”

So Meredith knows. And from the firm set of her lips, she wasn’t happy he hadn’t shown last night either. Of course she wasn’t. She didn’t want to see her daughter hurt anymore than Reardon did.

“I did. I’ve come to apologize.” He wished he had some flowers or other gift to enhance his apology.

Meredith walked past him and opened the front door. As Dylan raced in, she looked over her shoulder at Reardon. “Better be a damn good apology, sir.”

She motioned for him to go into the cabin ahead of her and he figured that was a good sign. At least she hadn’t told him to leave. She believed he should have the opportunity to make up for his no-show.

The question was...did Brandy?

“Hey, Mom!” Dylan called out as he ran into the living room.

Reardon held his breath as the boy skidded to a halt and took in the empty wolf bed. Reardon had planned to talk to Brandy alone. Now he had an audience of one boy and one grandmother. He wasn’t exactly ready for that.

“Where’s Alator?” Dylan shot into the kitchen, the dining room, and back to the living room while Reardon stood there, searching his mind for an acceptable story for a missing wolf.

“He couldn’t have gotten too far,” Meredith said. “That leg of his has to be hurting.”

Not as much as you’d think. Standing as he was now, Reardon did his best to keep most of his weight on his right leg as he leaned against the living room doorway.

“MOM!” Dylan ran for the stairs, but Reardon could smell Brandy on her way down.

Gods, she smells wonderful. A fragrant mix of flowers he wanted to bury his nose in and inhale for an eternity.

But eternity with Brandy wasn’t his. He knew this. He had to hurry the hell up and tell her his secrets before time ran out.

“Why hello, son.” Brandy’s voice plucked chords deep inside Reardon and he closed his eyes, relishing the sensations. “What’s all the noise about?”

“Where’s Alator?”

“In the living room,” Brandy said.

“No, he’s not there.” Meredith had stepped into the hall between the front door and the stairs so she could see Brandy.

Reardon could not see her, which meant she could not see him. He stood stone still, wishing he had a better engineered plan.

“Alator’s not here, but someone else is.” Meredith gave Reardon a wink. “C’mon, Dylan. Let’s get some French toast started.” She nodded at Reardon, and he loved the woman for taking it easy on him.

Brandy came around the corner and stopped short at the sight of him. “Oh.” The word escaped on a breath and he couldn’t help grinning a little. When her eyes narrowed, however, he knew to wipe that grin off immediately.

“Hello.” He met her gaze and held it, but the shame of not showing up last night—in the way that she’d expected him to—made him look to the floor.

“Hello? That’s your opening? Hello?”

He was in more trouble than he’d imagined.

“Brandy, please allow me to explain.” Although I’m not sure how to.

She folded her arms across her chest. Her bosom plumped under her tank top and Reardon had to force himself not to moan his appreciation. That would score him no points right now and he needed points.

“Well, go ahead,” she said. “Explain. I can’t wait to hear this one.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t say anything when Brandy walked around him and entered the living room. She took one look at the empty wolf bed and said, “Where’s Alator?”

Right here.

“I don’t know,” he said instead.

Brandy marched into the kitchen where Dylan and Meredith were pulling out the necessary ingredients for breakfast. “Where’s Alator?”

Dylan closed the refrigerator and placed the carton of eggs he’d been holding onto the counter. “I already asked that, but I figured you had him upstairs. You don’t?”

“I couldn’t carry him up there, sweetie. He’s a big wolf. I’m a strong woman, but not that strong.” She checked the dining room, ducking to look under the table, and went back to the living room. “I don’t understand. I left him in the living room last night. He was on the bed.”

“Maybe he got out of the house somehow,” Meredith offered.

“Should we go look for him?” Dylan asked as he put the eggs back in the refrigerator.

“Yes,” Brandy said.

“No,” Reardon said at the same time.

Brandy whirled around to face him. “What do you mean no? One of my wolves is missing. One of my injured wolves is missing. We have to find him. And you don’t get a say in what hap—”

Reardon stepped forward and put his hands on Brandy’s shoulders. “I really need to get my explanation in before you go on a full-scale wolf hunt.”

“Oh, you need to, huh?” Her words were laced with an attitude that wasn’t altogether friendly. She shrugged out of his grip and took a step closer. “I needed you to show up last night.” Her voice was low and a little bit lethal.

She’s got fire. I’ll give her that, Flidae said in Reardon’s head.

Aye, fire. And didn’t he love that about her?

“Listen, let me talk to you privately for a few moments. Things will make sense after that.” Or they’ll sound crazy. Either way, he had to tell her what he was so she wouldn’t go on a search for Alator.

“I might—might—let you talk to me,” she said, “after I find Alator.” She brushed past him and left through the front door.

Reardon caught up to her and was about to insist again that they talk, but Parker was out there, the rifle in his hands pointed at Reardon.

“Don’t move.”

Chapter Fourteen

“Park? What in the hell are you doing? Put the gun down. We’ve had enough gun encounters with Hank.”

When Brandy got about a foot away from Parker, her friend reached out and grabbed her. He jerked her to a position behind him, making her yelp in surprise, and kept the gun aimed on Reardon.

“Parker?” A curl of something—fear, maybe—uncoiled inside Brandy. It was not in Parker’s nature to tote a gun unless it was a tranq gun or have such a fierce look on his normally friendly face. “What is going on?”

“I don’t know. Let’s ask this...this guy.” Parker motioned to Reardon with the nose of the rifle.

“Please,” Reardon said. “If I could have a word with Brandy—”

“You’re not having anything with Brandy, buddy. You understand me?” Parker took a few steps closer. “Get on the ground.”

“Should I call the police?” Meredith kept Dylan at her side, a little bit behind her, and gaped at Parker with wide eyes.

“Yes,” Parker said.

“No,” Reardon said at the same time.

“You keep answering questions that are not for you.” Brandy stepped out from behind Parker, but he tugged her back by her tank top, and she almost stumbled.

“Do not go near him... whatever he is.” Parker’s grip tightened on the rifle and for a moment Brandy expected him to squeeze off a shot.

“Parker, I don’t understand what’s happening.” And now I’m kind of all out afraid. Which she did not like at all. Being mad at Reardon for not showing up last night was trivial compared to the level of fear rising up inside her now.

“If you’d let me talk to you privately, Brandy, I think things will get clearer.” Reardon’s green-gold gaze beseeched her, and she fell under its spell. As upset as she was about him standing her up, she couldn’t deny what looking at him did to her body. In a pair of jeans and a gray T-shirt that hugged his perfect physique in all the right places, what was a girl to do but want some? Maybe a great deal more than some.

No. Stay strong. He jerked you around last night. He can’t get away with that.

“Brandy is not spending another second alone with you, Reardon... what the hell is your last name anyway?” Parker poked the rifle in the air between himself and Reardon.

“I’ll be happy to tell Brandy if you let me talk to her.” Reardon folded his arms across his chest, looking very intimidating, and for the first time, Brandy realized Reardon could probably crush Parker if he wanted to.

She couldn’t let that happen.

“Let me hear what he was to say, Park. I’ll be fine.” Again, she stepped out from behind Parker.

“Look at this first.” Parker reached his hand to his back pocket and extracted his cell phone. He pushed it into her hands. “Go to the security camera app.”

“I can look at this later.” She wiggled the phone between their faces. “Right now, I want to hear what Reardon thinks is so important that I hear. The sooner I hear it the sooner I can tell him to leave.”

A pained look flitted across Reardon’s face when he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Brandy couldn’t tell if her words had caused that expression or if he hurt physically somewhere.

Shit. What if he didn’t show because he was in an accident of some kind? Maybe he’d gone straight to the hospital and hadn’t needed an ambulance. Colleen wouldn’t have had a record if that had been the case. This notion made her regret the cold shoulder she was giving him.

“Reardon, are you okay?”

“Is he okay? Is he okay?” Parker’s voice had risen in volume and pitch. “Open the damn security camera app, B. Please.” He pointed at Meredith who hadn’t moved with Dylan still glued to her side. “Call the police, Meredith. Do it.”

Meredith ushered Dylan inside as Brandy focused on Parker’s phone. She hit the security camera app, wondering what in the hell was going on. She was about to tell Reardon to start reciting his story of where he was last night, but a grainy, dark image wavered on Parker’s phone, garnering her attention.

“What am I seeing here?” She turned the phone to get the landscape view and brought it closer to her face.

“Keep watching. You’ll see it in a minute.” Parker took a few steps toward Reardon. “Get on the ground. Now.”

Slowly, Reardon lowered to his knees, another wince scrunching up his features. He held his hands out to his sides in a universal I-mean-no-harm gesture.

“Parker, aren’t you going a little overboard here? He only stood me up. He didn’t actually hurt me or anything.” She loved Parker for being so protective, but this was too much. She’d never seen him be... well, crazy.

“Keep watching that screen, B.” He didn’t turn to look at her, as if all his attention was laser-focused on Reardon.

Brandy squinted at the phone in her hands. The clarity had improved a little though the footage was in that blue-black night vision lighting. She made out the images of several wolves around the entrance gate. Someone was leading them.

Someone tall.

Someone male.

Someone naked aside from a bandage around his left calf.

Someone who the wolves were rubbing against as if they knew this person.

“Who...” Her voice fell away as the naked man faced the wolves and she recognized the rugged, bearded, handsome face. She shot her gaze to Reardon. “Why—?”

“Keep watching,” Parker insisted.

She focused back on the screen and let out a gasp when the man, now on the other side of the entrance gates, got to the ground and changed into... into a huge, black wolf.

Alator?

The phone slipped from her fingers and bounced on the dirt between her feet.

“Fucked up, right?” Parker kept the gun on Reardon, but reached down for his phone. He dusted it off on his T-shirt and shoved it back into his pocket.

Brandy stood there with her mouth opening and closing, but no sound came out. What she’d seen on the phone had literally taken her breath away. The woods spun around her and she blinked rapidly, fighting off the waves of dizziness cresting over her. Rising up. Crashing. Rising up. Crashing. She couldn’t get any air into her lungs.

Black spots danced at the edges of her vision and she knew she was going down. As much as she didn’t want to pass out, there was nothing she could do to stop it.

She’d just seen a man turn into a wolf. This man. The one on his knees at gunpoint in front of her this very moment. The one she’d slept with.

Oh, God...

She hit the ground. The last thing she heard was Parker and Reardon both calling her name.

****

Reardon shot to his feet to go to Brandy, her body prone on the ground, but Parker got in his path.

“You don’t touch her. Do you hear me? You. Don’t. Touch. Her.” The smaller man held that rifle steady and Reardon had no doubt Parker wouldn’t hesitate to put another bullet in him.

“What did she watch?” He held his hands up, trying to look defenseless, but his brain was running through all the different ways he could get that gun from Parker. He didn’t want to hurt the veterinarian. After all, the man had taken good care of him on several occasions now. That wasn’t enough to keep Reardon from going to Brandy, however.

“As if you don’t know what you did in the cover of darkness last night by the entrance gates.” Parker raised his eyebrows then shook his head. “I mean, what did you do, man? I watched it with my own two eyes, and Brandy obviously witnessed the same thing. Otherwise she wouldn’t be out cold right now.”

Reardon paused for a moment, trying to put the pieces together while deciding which course of action to take next. “These security cameras. What do they do?”

Parker let out a noise of utter disbelief. “What do they do? Are you from Mars, dude? They do what security cameras do—record everything they’re pointed at. In this case, they were pointed at you. You walking toward the entrance gates. Naked, I might add. The wolves rubbing against you and circling around you as if you were their leader or some shit. You opening the gates. You...” Here, Parker squeezed his eyes shut for an instant. When he opened them, his hands were white knuckled on the rifle. He raised it, poised to pull the trigger. “You changed. Into Alator. How?” His voice was only a whisper now.

Dammit. Reardon hadn’t known about the security cameras. What madness captures everything a man—or a wolf—does for all to view? He supposed it made sense for catching people like Hank Swift lurking around, up to no good.

But him? He wasn’t out to harm anyone. In fact, just the opposite. He only wanted Brandy’s total acceptance.

Brandy.

He peered around Parker at Brandy still sprawled on the ground. Even unconscious with dirt marring her bare legs, she was a vision.

And now she knew what he could do. Before he’d been able to tell her himself.

This was not good.

“The police are on their way,” Meredith called from the house.

This was really not good.

“Great,” Parker said. “Get back in the house and keep Dylan in there.”

“What happened to Brandy?” Meredith stepped outside.

“She’s okay, Meredith. She passed out. I’ve got it under control.” Parker widened his stance, keeping that rifle trained on Reardon. “Go back inside.”

Meredith disappeared back into the house, which surprised Reardon. She wasn’t one to take orders from what he’d seen, and he knew how much her family meant to her. If her daughter was on the ground, she’d want to go to her. If she thought Reardon was a threat, she’d make every attempt to protect her kin.

A soft click sounded behind him, but before he could take his gaze off Parker’s rifle, a sharp jab got him in the shoulder blade. When he turned his head, Meredith stood on the front step, a tranq gun still raised in her hands.

“Sorry, kid, but I don’t know what’s going on here. My daughter’s on the ground, a man who is usually pretty level-headed has you at gunpoint, and my grandson is visibly upset inside. We all need a minute. A minute in which you are not able to fight back.”

By the time Meredith was finished, everything around Reardon had grown fuzzy and his body didn’t feel like his own. A numbness crawled throughout him and he sank to his knees. When his arms were unable to move, he crashed face first into the dirt at Parker’s feet.

“He should be out for a while, but let’s tie him up until the police get here.” Meredith’s words all ran into each other in Reardon’s ears.

He heaved in a breath. Brandy was close enough that her fragrance filled his nostrils and he relished the scent.

Even if it was probably the last time he’d ever smell it.

****

Brandy snapped awake and her body jolted in the recliner. Her living room. She had somehow gotten to her living room from outside.

Outside where she’d seen footage of something that could not be real.

Could it? What if it was? What if everything she’d researched about lycanthropy was... real? What if Reardon was Alator and Alator was Reardon?

She stood and marched into the kitchen. “Parker? Mom?” She poked her head into the dining room. “Dylan?”

No one answered so she opened the front door only to see Parker and Meredith walking up from the entrance gates.

“Brandy, are you okay?” Meredith jogged over and gave her a hug, but Brandy couldn’t manage to get her arms to reciprocate. “You want something to drink, kiddo?” Meredith stepped back and studied Brandy.

“No.” Brandy got in front of Parker. “I want to see that footage again.”

Parker shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary.” He still held the rifle.

“I do think it’s necessary, Parker. I need to be sure about what I saw.”

“It has to be a trick or something,” Meredith said.

“You saw it?” How long had she been unconscious? Brandy squinted up at the sky and figured it was still morning.

“Damn straight, I saw it. I needed to know what caused my daughter to end up flat on her back in the dirt.”

“Let’s go inside.” Parker corralled her toward the house, but Brandy sidestepped out of his reach.

“No. I have to... I have to talk to Reardon. Where is he?” She turned in a tight circle as if he might magically appear.

“Sheriff Olsen sent two officers out to pick him up, B,” Parker said, still trying to edge her toward the house. “We’ll let them sort it out.”

“You didn’t... oh my God, Parker, you didn’t give the sheriff that security cam footage, did you?” She had a strong feeling that if what she’d seen was true, Reardon didn’t necessarily want the whole world to know what he... could do.

Parker rubbed his temples. “No, I didn’t. I’m not sure what to think of all that yet. I told the sheriff Reardon was trespassing on Silver Moon land. That’s enough for them to hold him for some questioning, but we have to come up with something more if we want them to press any kind of charges.”

“What charges? There are no charges.” Brandy paced away and came back. “Reardon hasn’t done anything wrong.” Except keep a mammoth secret. A secret he’d been trying to tell her this morning. A secret that would change the world as Brandy knew it.

For the better? For the worse? She wasn’t entirely sure yet.

“If what we saw was real, B, that guy could be a danger to you and Dylan.” Parker put his free hand on her shoulder and shook her a little, his frustration growing. “Surely you see this. I can’t let him hurt you or Dylan.”

“Dylan,” Brandy said. “Where is he?” She looked to Meredith.

“Chella came and got him,” Meredith said. “Parker thought it best if he wasn’t around for whatever happened next.”

Brandy ground her teeth. Chella wasn’t exactly her ideal babysitter choice. The woman wasn’t going to play outside, endure a chess match, or engage in conversation about comic book characters with a ten-year old. On the other hand, Parker was right. Dylan shouldn’t be around until they knew all the facts.

So that was where she’d start. The facts. It was what scientists did.

“I have to go to the police station and talk to Reardon.” She sprinted toward the house with Meredith and Parker right on her heels.

“Brandy, I don’t think talking to him is a good idea right now,” Meredith said. “Let things cool down. Let’s figure this out amongst ourselves first.”

“Figure it out ourselves?” Brandy whipped around and stared at Meredith. “Mom, we can’t figure this out ourselves. You saw the footage. We have no explanation for that. No scientific one anyway.”

“A scientific one is the only one I’ll accept,” Parker said.

“I don’t think it’s the one we’re going to get, but the only person who can give us any kind of explanation is Reardon.” Brandy grabbed her purse and headed for the door again.

“Wait.” Parker hooked his arm around Brandy’s, halting her progress. “We’ll all go.”

“Whatever.” She squirmed out of Parker’s hold and ran back outside, stopping at Meredith’s car because she hadn’t replaced her SUV yet. “Keys?”

Meredith shook her head. “I’ll drive. You’re a little distracted.” She slid into the driver’s seat.

In an attempt not to waste any more time, Brandy let out a huff but climbed into the passenger seat while Parker, still toting the rifle, took the seat behind her.

The drive to the police station was quiet as Brandy reviewed the footage from the security camera she demanded Parker send to her phone. No matter how many times she viewed it, she couldn’t deny that Reardon had gone from man to wolf. Right there. On her land. Among her wolves. Alator, her favorite wolf, and Reardon, the man who’d saved her and Dylan from being crushed by that runaway car—the man who had made love to her as if she were something he couldn’t get enough of—were one in the same.

“Good Lord,” she said and wrenched around to look at Parker. “What if all the wolves at Silver Moon can do this?”

Parker frowned as if it were a ridiculous notion, but Brandy could tell by the way his eyes darted back and forth as he looked up at the roof of the car that he was considering it.

“Lycanthropy could be a real thing, Parker!” An excited buzz zipped through her like a live current. What a discovery!

“Let’s all calm down.” Meredith turned the car into the police station parking lot.

Calm down? Brandy could barely contain herself. She was desperate to see Reardon, to speak to him, to confirm that the topic of her secret research was, in fact, not nonsense.

To confirm he hadn’t stood her up last night. He’d quite possibly been with her all night, just in a form she hadn’t recognized.

When the car was barely parked, Brandy shot out of the passenger seat and bolted for the door to the police station. Meredith and Parker called for her, but she wasn’t stopping. Not when a mystery of this size was waiting for her inside.

She nearly tripped to the front desk where she started babbling. “Hi. I’m Dr. Brandy Wendon. A man was taken into custody a short while ago for trespassing on Silver Moon Sanctuary land. I need to talk to him. Right away.” She blew her hair out of her face then added, “Please. May I talk to him, please?”

The officer at the front desk dragged her gaze from a tablet and blinked slowly at her then narrowed her gray eyes. A frown creased her lips as she took in the sight of Meredith and Parker stumbling in behind Brandy.

“Are you all under the influence or something?” she asked. “Because I can get you all a cozy cell together.”

“Drunk?” Brandy shook her head. “We’re not drunk. I just need to speak with Reardon. Please. I beg you.”

“Because I look like a person who folds in the face of begging.” The officer picked up her tablet and tapped the screen, completely ignoring Brandy, Meredith, and Parker.

Brandy was about to make her plea again. She didn’t care what she had to do to see Reardon. She’d do anything, but Sheriff Olsen came out of his office and leaned against the front desk next to Brandy.

“Why do you want to talk to the man we picked up from your land?” he asked. “Meredith and Parker said he was trespassing. You got something else on him? Something bookable?”

“No. I think there’s been a misunderstanding and I need a few minutes with him.”

The sheriff nodded. “Okay, you can all come back this way. If we can sort this out in a civil manner, that works for me. And don’t mind Edna here.” He gestured to the officer at the desk. “She woke up on the wrong side of the bed today.”

Edna growled at the sheriff, and that made Brandy wonder if the noises Reardon had made when they’d made love had actually been wolf growls.

She turned to face Meredith and Parker. “Look, I need to talk to him alone. You guys stay here.”

“Hell, no.” Parker grabbed her bicep. “You are not going in there without me.”

“Parker. I’ve got this. Honestly. Call Chella and tell her to meet us back at Silver Moon with Dylan.” She gave his forearm a squeeze and he let go of her arm.

“I don’t like this, B.”

“Me neither,” Meredith added.

“I know, but you have to trust me. Okay?” She took her mother’s hand and squeezed that too. “I’ll be fine.”

“I won’t unlock the suspect,” Sheriff Olsen said. “They can have their talk with a set of steel bars between them. He won’t be able to lay a hand on Brandy.”

Parker nodded his thanks to the sheriff and guided Meredith to a bench across from the front desk. He pulled out his phone, and Brandy assumed he was calling Chella as she’d suggested.

“This way.” The sheriff guided her down a hallway and into the cell block. The Canville Police and Fire Department was small, but it had six jail cells, three on each side of a long corridor. They walked past five empty ones and Sheriff Olsen stopped at the last one.

Brandy still had to take another step in order to see into the cell. To see Reardon. Her heart raced and thoughts pinballed around in her brain. She wasn’t sure she was ready to hear what he had to say. She wasn’t sure she could not hear what he had to say.

“Brandy?” Reardon’s voice was low and a little hoarse, but it called to her like the Pied Piper’s flute.

“I’ll be right on the other side of this door if you need me,” Sheriff Olsen said. “Give it a good bang.” He met her gaze and, seeing she’d heard him, he slipped out of the corridor.

“I can smell you, Brandy.” Again Reardon’s voice had a magnetic pull on her, tearing her from her position and making her take that one final step.

“And what do I smell like?” Her breath caught in her throat when she peered into the cell to find him sitting in the middle of a cot, his elbows resting on his knees and his hands cradling his head as he looked down at the cement floor.

He turned that green-gold gaze up to her, and yeah, like how couldn’t she have known he was Alator? Dylan had been spot on. The man and the wolf had the same unusual eyes. And that crop of black hair and that black stubble around his jaw was the exact shade of Alator’s silky fur.

And those big man hands were as massive and solid as Alator’s paws.

A shiver worked its way through Brandy as all the connections sewed together. She dug out her phone and started the video. At the sound of the footage, Reardon got up from the cot and approached her. Those big hands curled around the bars as he watched the phone screen in silence.

When the video was finished, Reardon’s green-gold eyes turned to her. “I was trying to tell you.” His words were uttered on a whisper.

Slowly, Brandy wrapped her hand around his on the bars, noting that he no longer wore a bandage around his knuckles. His totally not scraped knuckles. “I know. Tell me now.”

Reardon peered out the cell, down the corridor, then toward the door the sheriff had gone through.

“We’re alone,” Brandy said. “Just keep your voice low. I assume you don’t want the entire town to know what you’re capable of doing.”

Nodding, Reardon moved his hand so his was now covering hers. A vision of Alator’s paw on her thigh last night flashed into her mind, and she knew that whatever Reardon was about to tell her, she’d believe.

“I’m not entirely human,” he began.

“No shit.” Brandy sifted out a breath as she wiggled her phone then stuffed it into her pocket. She brought her other hand up to rest on the bars and Reardon covered that hand, too, with his. “So are you... are you an actual werewolf?” She whispered that last word so it was barely audible.

“Aye.”

“How?”

“By birth. I’m the Seventh Son of a werewolf, born on a December full moon. It’s the way of things where I come from.”

“And where is that exactly?”

At that question, Reardon looked at their joined hands, his thumbs rubbing along her knuckles in a way that made her want rubbing elsewhere, everywhere. “Ireland. Ireland of the past.”

“Of the past?” Brandy’s ears rung from the force of trying to listen so hard and to understand what he was saying. “Like time travel stuff?”

Reardon nodded. “I’m not from your time, Brandy.”

“You can time travel.” Her brain was definitely about to explode in her skull.

“No. I can’t. Flidae, the Celtic goddess of—”

“Wild things,” Brandy finished.

“You know of her?”

“I have a book of Celtic gods and goddesses. It’s what Dylan and I use to name the wolves at Silver Moon sometimes. Midir was almost Flidae, but Dylan changed his mind.”

“She is my protector. Was my protector I should say. Until I angered her and earned banishment from my home.”

“What did you do to anger her?” If Reardon’s face wasn’t so serious she’d call bullshit on everything he was saying right now. The firm set of his lips, the furrow of his brow, the tension in his jaw, however, all told her none of this was a joke or make believe. He was telling her the truth.

“I told you I was a soldier, and you assumed I was one in your time’s military. You believed I was something honorable, but I am not.” He turned his face away from her. “I’m actually a warrior. A fierce one who shows no mercy. I led a band of equally brutal warriors and kings hired us to battle for them.”

“Like mercenaries?”

“Exactly. We fought for riches, for glory, and we did quite well until we finally met our match. The king of Spain hired us to fight his enemy, but they were more savage than we were. They were crushing us. So I turned some of my men into wolves and we destroyed them.”

“But not without catching Flidae’s attention.”

“Aye. She was furious that I’d used what she called a gift to kill and make other killers. She banished me and my men from Ireland and scattered us to the four winds.”

“And you ended up outside my fence, in my time, stuck in a trap.”

“I did.”

Well, that certainly explained why Brandy hadn’t been able to figure out where Alator had come from.

“Do you have the chance to go back to your time, your home?” She wasn’t sure she wanted the answer to this question.

“I will be sent back as soon as I do something worthy.”

“You saved Dylan and me. That wasn’t worthy enough?”

“No. That was a test from Flidae herself.”

“She’s here?” A Celtic goddess walked among them? What good was science if all this fantasy stuff was actually happening around them and they didn’t even know it?

“In some form, aye. I’ve only seen her appear as a nearly transparent apparition, but her power is strong here.”

“So if you don’t do something she considers worthy, do you get to stay in my time?” Did he want to stay in her time? Would she be able to let him go back to his? Did she have any choice in the matter?

“I sense that the answer to that is no. Flidae isn’t going to let me win this one. I’m to be punished and she will see that I am.” He stared directly into her eyes now. “In the meantime, however, I want to be with you, Brandy. I feel complete with you.”

“Complete. But we don’t know each other.” She’d only slept with this man once. “Jesus, I don’t even know your last name.”

“McAlator.”

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” She pursed her lips and let her hands slide out from under his as she took a step away from the bars.

“I’m not joking, Brandy. My full name is Reardon Douglas McAlator. Dylan named my wolf form well.”

“God of war. I suppose, given what you’ve told me about your former life, it was a fitting name.”

“Are you afraid of me?” His beautiful eyes were so pained, so sad.

“Afraid of you? No. I don’t even know you.”

Reardon shook his head. “You don’t know me as a man, but think about it, fairy lass. You know me as a wolf. You’ve cared for me when I was injured. You’ve fed me, sheltered me, given me a pack. You’ve invited me into your home, your bedroom, your heart, as a wolf. And that wolf has protected you, has he not? He’s returned your love, has he not? Everything you feel for that wolf and that wolf feels for you doesn’t change now that I’ve got two arms and two legs.”

Brandy studied the man behind the bars and had to agree that there was a certain level of familiarity she couldn’t explain with any logic other than what he had said. He was right. She did love the wolf. Was it such a stretch to love the man as well?

“We did have some chemistry together as humans, I suppose,” she said.

“You suppose?” Reardon offered her a heart-stopping grin. “Fairy lass, what we shared was destiny. You’re my soul mate. I’m certain of it.”

Soul mate. Completely unscientific, but it felt like the right label. She couldn’t deny that. She wanted to be his soul mate. But how could it last if he wasn’t from her time? How could they build something together when he’d have to return home eventually?

How could she waste another minute if this thing had a time limit on it?

Brandy turned and pounded a fist on the door the sheriff had left through. In a second, the door whipped open, and Sheriff Olsen looked ready to subdue anyone who needed subduing.

“You can release him. He wasn’t trespassing on Silver Moon property. It was a misunderstanding,” she said.

The sheriff eyed her for a good long moment. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Well, because it was Silver Moon that called him in, it’s Silver Moon who can call him out.” Sheriff Olsen removed keys from his utility belt and unlocked Reardon’s cell. “I’ll get the paperwork for his release. Follow me.”

Reardon pushed open the door to the cell and stepped into the corridor. Gently, he cupped Brandy’s cheek and she pressed her face into his palm. Not able to resist, she leaned into his big, strong, hard body and let out a sigh when he wrapped his arms around her.

“This feels no different than when you hugged me as a wolf, right?” he whispered in her ear.

And it didn’t. It truly didn’t.

Chapter Fifteen

They rode in silence. Meredith in the driver’s seat with Parker in the passenger seat. Brandy and Reardon shared the back seat. Far too much space stretched between them in the small car as far as Reardon was concerned, but he got the vibe that it wasn’t because Brandy wanted it that way. She’d gestured to her mother and friend in the front seat when they’d gotten into the car at the police station and he’d picked up her mental message.

Wait until we’re alone.

So he would. He’d wait until they were alone. Then he’d show her that everything he felt for her in wolf form was the same in man form. Maybe even stronger. He was so relieved she wasn’t angry with him for keeping the truth from her. She appeared to understand. Understand and accept. In fact, the way she kept shooting small smiles to him suggested she was a little... giddy over what he was. As if he were the proof she’d been searching for to prove her secret research into lycanthropy hadn’t been a waste of time. She was fascinated by the topic and his existence validated all the claims she’d collected over the years.

Meredith pulled her car into the driveway and turned to face them in the back seat. She stared at Reardon, her gaze drilling holes into him. “Before I let you loose, wolfman, I need to see what I saw on that video live and in person. I need to know you’re not going to hurt my daughter or my grandson.”

“I don’t like this,” Parker said, his worried gaze never leaving Brandy’s face.

“I’ve never intended to hurt Brandy or Dylan,” Reardon said before Brandy could protest against her mother’s demand and her friend’s concern. “I will show you anything you wish to see and guarantee I will keep Brandy safe as a man just as I have as a wolf.”

“You really share a consciousness with the wolf?” Parker turned more to look at Reardon.

“The wolf and the man are the same. I know—and feel—everything the wolf does and the opposite is also true.”

“Show us.” Meredith climbed out of the car.

Parker hesitated a moment before following Meredith’s lead.

Reardon put his hand on the door handle, and Brandy reached over and took his other hand. The sight of her small hand on his warmed him like nothing else could.

“You don’t have to prove anything to them if you don’t want to. I believe everything you’ve said, Reardon. I trust you.” She cupped his cheek, letting her fingertips play with his left earlobe. When she moved her hand up higher and traced the edge of his ear up under his hair a bit, her eyes widened. “The tip of your ear is gone.”

“As is Alator’s.” He closed his eyes while she fingered the jagged top of his left ear as she had done to his wolf ear so many times. He opened his eyes to find her smiling at him.

“I think a part of me always knew you and Alator shared a... soul.”

“We share a deep love for you as well, fairy lass.”

“I know, big boy.” She winked, and though she hadn’t told him she loved him in return, he was encouraged by her playfulness. “C’mon, let’s get the demonstration for these two over with.”

They got out of the car and walked to where Meredith and Parker both stood, each with their arms folded across their chests like a couple of skeptics.

“Chella’s not here yet?” Brandy asked.

Parker shook his head. “She’ll probably be here any minute, so let’s go, Reardon. Do your thing.”

“Let’s go into the woods a little,” Brandy said. “In case Chella does show up. She’ll scream her head off, and I don’t want Dylan to be scared.”

Parker led the way, Meredith behind him, with Brandy and Reardon following. As they went deeper, the other wolves appeared and wasted no time rubbing themselves against Reardon, welcoming him home.

Home. If only it could be his home.

Swallowing around a tight throat, Reardon continued walking until he felt Brandy staring at him.

“What?” he asked, halting to look at her.

“Nothing. I just love seeing my wolves with you.”

“They are good friends of mine now. Like family.”

“Do you have family? You know, in Ireland? In your time?” The expression on her face told him she feared his answer.

He stroked her cheek, letting his fingers glide over her soft skin. “I have a brother, Jaemus, but I don’t know where Flidae sent him. My mother still lives, but we do not see each other. I only know my father as the man who made me what I am. I saw him on my first change, then never again.”

Brandy stepped into him, her arms going around his waist. She simply held him and he could have stood there for an eternity.

But suddenly Parker was there, a silent demand in his dark eyes.

Reardon peeled Brandy’s arms off him and motioned to Parker. “We have an audience.”

“Damn right you do, buddy,” Parker said. “I’m not leaving you with her until I get explanations.”

“Or you could trust me, Park,” Brandy said. “You know I don’t do things that are irrational or dangerous.”

“Maybe he’s done something to your mind.”

Reardon laughed, earning a glare from Parker. “Mind control is not one of my talents.”

“Well, show us what talents you do have.” Parker gestured to the open field in front of them.

The other wolves had gathered around, and Reardon could feel their energy, filling him, supporting him. He stepped away from Brandy and entered the field.

Brandy walked over to Meredith who put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders. Parker joined them, his face equal parts doubtful and curious.

“Does it hurt?” Brandy asked Reardon. “When you change?”

Her concern touched him. “No. It did at first, but not anymore.”

He yanked his T-shirt over his head and set it on the ground. Meredith let out a sound and Brandy elbowed her.

“What?” Meredith asked. “I think I see why you want to forgive him. Shit, how can abs like that be possible?”

Parker cleared his throat. “Let’s focus on what we’re witnessing here, shall we, ladies? Don’t get sidetracked by... by... abs.” He huffed out a breath then sucked in his stomach. The man was in good shape as well, but Reardon knew regular humans weren’t capable of developing the muscles he had.

Reardon slid his jeans down his legs and stepped out of them. He left his boxers on then crouched to all fours, noting how Brandy’s eyes went to the bandage on his left calf, further evidence to suggest he and Alator were the same.

One moment he was a man on his hands and knees. The next he was a giant, black wolf, wagging his tail, hoping to project a friendly look instead of a big, bad look.

Meredith cupped her hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and darting between Reardon’s wolf in the field and Brandy at her side.

“Well,” Parker said, his voice full of wonder, “he can actually do it.”

As Reardon approached, Brandy shared a quick version of what he’d told her at the police department. She ended with, “He’s even got a jagged ear like Alator does.”

He flicked that ear, and slowly, Parker reached out a hand and touched the ear. He jumped back a little as if he didn’t expect the wolf in front of him to be real.

“All the science I know just went poof.” Parker shot his hands out then let them flap down to his sides.

“This is not a matter of science.” Meredith crouched in front of Reardon and rubbed the scruff around his neck, eliciting a low growl of appreciation from him. She laughed. “This is a matter of believing in magic.” She stood and tugged on Parker’s arm. “C’mon, kid. I’ve got a bottle of Jack Daniels that goes perfectly with this kind of revelation.” She stopped by Brandy’s side. “I’ll make something to eat. I imagine shifting from man to wolf and back again works up a hunger.”

Meredith guided Parker back the way they’d come, but Parker paused.

“You feel safe around him, B?”

Reardon had to admire the man’s determination to keep Brandy secure.

“I do, Park. Go with Mom. Have that drink. We’ll chat later about how everything we know is wrong.”

“Shit, right?” He raked a hand through his hair and followed Meredith.

When they could no longer be seen, Brandy turned to him. “Your leg is still hurt from yesterday?” She pointed to his back left leg where the bandage had fallen off.

Reardon sat on his haunches and lifted that leg for inspection.

Brandy got to her knees and leaned forward, taking that limb in her hands and noting the stitching still visible. “It looks so much better than yesterday. Fast healing is part of this werewolf thing?”

He let out a short bark in reply.

“Okay.” Brandy chewed on her lower lip as she regarded him. “Change back so we can... talk.”

Reardon didn’t have to be asked twice. He shifted immediately, but stayed on all fours.

“Can you get my clothes? My leg hurts a bit more in human form.”

Brandy sprung into action, jogging to his pile of clothes and handing them to him. “For the record though, I prefer you naked.”

He let out a sound of male appreciation at that comment. “Likewise.” He dressed quickly and led Brandy over to a boulder. They both sat, their thighs touching in one, warm line that Reardon adored.

“Do you think I’ve scarred Meredith and Parker for life?” He took Brandy’s hand and laced his fingers with hers.

She studied their joined hands on his thigh. The fact that she made no attempt to free herself pleased him greatly.

“No. My mom called you magic and she’s got a special place in her heart for magic. She always said what she had with my dad was magic.” Brandy brought their hands up to her lips and dropped soft kisses along his knuckles. The sensation instantly hardened him and he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything. “And Parker will most likely have a thousand questions for you by the time we get back to the house. He’s very analytical and will want to know all the specifics of your ability.”

“And you?” Reardon hooked her hair behind her ear. “What do you think?”

“I think if you don’t kiss me right now, big boy, I might seriously lose it.”

She leaned forward and Reardon didn’t waste any time considering her request because he was dangerously close to losing it, too, if he didn’t taste her.

When their lips met, something liquid and molten surged through him. Something heated and filling. Something that touched his soul—the one he shared between man and wolf.

The one that loved this woman with everything he had.

****

Brandy nearly melted under the heat of Reardon’s kiss... or was it Alator’s kiss?

It’s Reardon McAlator’s kiss. And she freaking loved it. She had her very own werewolf right here in her arms. Never in a million years did she ever think this day would come.

She’d wished for it. Every time she added to her lycanthropy notes, every time she’d heard about a new case of someone reporting they could change into an animal, every time she watched Twilight, she’d fantasized about meeting a shapeshifter. If she were being honest, the fantasy always ended with her and the shifter getting it on.

And now it’s really happening.

Brandy climbed onto Reardon’s lap and he wrapped his muscled arms around her, pulling her hot, ready center closer to his hard, ready arousal.

“I think it’s time for you to lose the clothes again, big boy.” She sucked gently on his bottom lip and absolutely loved the low growl that rumbled—very wolf-like—deep in his throat.

“Only if you’ll lose yours too.” He skimmed his fingertips along her stomach under her tank top.

“Deal.” She nearly tore her top off then set to work removing his T-shirt.

Reardon palmed her breasts and the heat of his hands through the thin fabric of her bra pebbled her nipples. He unclasped the bra and tossed it aside, his hands taking over the job of cupping her breasts.

“So beautiful...” His voice was raspy with need and the timbre of it struck something inside Brandy like the pluck of a guitar string. The vibrations pulsed all over her body, but at her core mostly. She’d never wanted something as much as she wanted Reardon.

She slid off his lap so she could get rid of her shorts. Reardon stood and pushed off his jeans, appearing to be as eager, as aroused, as she was. When they were both naked, she made a move to jump at him, but he put his hands on her shoulders first.

“Thank you, fairy lass.” He stared directly into her eyes, his own green-gold ones intense and... glowing. Brandy couldn’t look away. He was enthralling.

“For what?” she asked, her voice ragged with need. She wanted him inside her right now.

“For forgiving me. For accepting me. For wanting me.”

She shook off his hold so she could step closer and hook her hands on his shoulders instead. “Thank you for protecting me against Hank. Thank you for saving Dylan and me in town. Thank you for trusting me with the story surrounding your secret. Thank you for shifting in front of my mother and my friend to shut them up.” She smiled when he laughed. “Thank you for making love to me and waking me up inside. Thank you for making love to me again right now.”

He pulled her in so her entire front was touching his in one long line of warm, naked flesh. She loved the way her nipples rubbed against the hard muscles of his chest, the way his erection sought entrance between her willing thighs.

Reardon teased her at first, slowly running the tip of his arousal back and forth along her throbbing center. When he finally turned her so she was facing the boulder and rubbed his desire along her from the back, she cried out, her desperation for him threatening to rip her apart.

“Please, Reardon. Now.” She ground her bottom against him, loving the moan it pulled from him.

He bent her forward, his hands covering hers on the boulder and his body draped over her like a heavy blanket. A werewolf blanket. She loved the weight of him surrounding her. When he slid into her from behind, she let out a shuddery sigh and pressed herself against him.

They fell into an easy rhythm, and in no time, Brandy was soaring. Flying high. Peaking. Diving. Tumbling over the edge with this amazing man, wolf, werewolf... soul mate.

When they’d both fallen apart in a shower of pure bliss and her legs could no longer support her, Reardon lifted her into his arms and set her in his lap again as he sat on the boulder. His breathing was as labored as hers, but the smile on his face told her he’d enjoyed himself. He caught her lips with his and they kissed in the quiet of the woods until they had to stop for more air.

“Oh, lass...” Reardon traced circles on her thigh, his big hands rough against her skin. “I didn’t know feeling like this was possible.”

Brandy nestled closer. “Neither did I, and now that I do know, what can we do to keep you here?”

He squeezed his arms around her. “Knowing that you want to keep me here fills my heart to overflowing.” After dropping a soft kiss on her forehead, he leveled those gorgeous wolf eyes at her. “But I don’t think Flidae will change the rules for anyone. Least of all me.”

“There has to be a way, Reardon. I can’t have found you only to lose you.” Brandy shook her head. “My sister, Dylan’s mom, was taken from me. I don’t think I can stand to see someone else I love go.”

The hopeful look on his face was adorable. “You love me?”

She fingered his jagged ear. “I love you and your wolf. Does that officially make us soul mates?”

“There’s a way to make it official.” He set her on her feet and took her hands in his. Without taking his eyes off hers, he opened his mouth, his canine teeth elongating right before Brandy’s eyes.

She couldn’t look away. The sight of those teeth astonished and fascinated her. “You bite me?”

He nodded. “I turn you.”

“Isn’t that what got you in trouble in the first place?”

“Yes, but my intentions are very different now.” His eyes darkened as he ran his tongue over one of the canines. “I would turn you to bind us in love.”

A zip of anticipation shockwaved through Brandy. Why did she want him to bite her? Wasn’t that crazy? Where had Dr. Brandy Wendon, scientist, gone? When had she gone completely insane?

The moment he touched me.

“Where would you bite me?” she asked. “Will it hurt?”

“Anywhere you want me to bite you and aye, only for a moment.” He slid his hands to her hips. “Then I promise to make the hurt go away.”

Electric zip number two raced through her body and she found herself stepping in closer to him, corralling her hair onto one shoulder, baring her neck to him. Before she could think too much about it, she said, “Do it.”

Another low growl hummed in his throat as he stood and wrapped one arm around her waist. His free hand slid up her arm to rest at her shoulder and he looked at her for several silent seconds, his eyes a warm green-gold with a light of their own.

Brandy’s heart beat so hard in her chest, she feared it would burst through her ribcage. Her legs were wobbly, her hands clammy.

But she wanted this. Good God, she wanted this.

As Reardon lowered his head and the tip of his canine grazed her flesh, a bolt of lightning zapped to the ground, setting some nearby ferns on fire.

“Shit!” Brandy scrambled for her clothes as did Reardon. “We have to put that out before it catches the rest of the woods on fire! I could lose the entire sanctuary if that happens!”

She led them to the barn and wrenched a fire extinguisher off the wall. Pushing it into Reardon’s waiting hands, she said, “Pull this pin, aim the hose, and spray! Go!”

“Aye!” He took off, his long legs covering more ground than she could hope to.

With fumbling hands, Brandy turned on the spigot at the back of the barn and grabbed the hose.

“What’s going on?” Parker was suddenly beside her.

“Lightning strike. Ferns on fire.”

Parker took the hose from her. “I’ve got it.” He set off in the direction Reardon had gone.

Brandy jogged behind him and let out a breath because Reardon had the fire out already. A few cloudy wisps of smoke rose from the blackened ferns, but nothing else looked harmed.

“Lightning, you say?” Parker asked, still holding the hose.

“Yeah.” Brandy looked up to the sky, which was a cloudless blue. Not a rain cloud in sight. “It came out of nowhere.”

Parker opened his mouth, but his phone ringing from his pocket stopped him. He reached around and retrieved the phone. “It’s Chella.” He tapped the screen. “Hey, babe. Where are you? I called and said you could bring Dylan to Silver Moon almost an hour ago.”

Reardon stared at the destroyed ferns. He looked up at the tree tops and Brandy would have sworn he was putting together his own theory for that lightning.

But she’d seen it. With her own two eyes. And after a day like today, what was so strange about a little rogue lightning? She’d made love with a werewolf for Christ’s sake. Lightning was far more routine than that.

Although...

Was it a little strange that the bolt appeared just as Reardon was about to bite her? Did some outside force—some angry goddess—not approve?

“Something’s not right,” Parker said, his phone still to his ear.

“What do you mean?” Brandy asked.

“It’s Chella’s number showing up, but it wasn’t Chella on the line.” Parker pulled his phone from his ear and blinked at the screen. “Chella doesn’t say things like, ‘If you want to stay, I’ll take the boy.’ What does that even mean?”

Reardon let out a roar that made Brandy jump. Parker’s phone flew out of his hand as did the hose.

“Flidae!” Reardon yelled. “Flidae, hear me! You don’t harm that boy.”

Fear washed over Brandy like a tidal wave. “Flidae has Dylan?” Suddenly she couldn’t get any oxygen into her lungs. “Reardon? Does she?”

He set the fire extinguisher down and grabbed Brandy’s hand. “Not for long she doesn’t.” He stopped in front of Parker. “Take us to Chella’s.”

“Wait,” Parker said. “Someone tell me what’s going on. Who is Flidae?”

“Tell you on the way.” Reardon prodded Parker into a jog and didn’t stop until they were in front of Parker’s truck. “Brandy, call Meredith. Tell her to stay inside the house. Tell her we’ll explain when we get back.”

Brandy followed his instructions while he gathered the sanctuary’s wolves around him. Holding his hands out to them, he appeared to be talking to them.

“What were you doing?” she asked when he climbed into the back seat of the truck next to her.

“Asking them to protect Meredith. Trust me, nothing is getting inside your house. Nothing.”

“What about us?” Parker asked. “What are we driving into? Do we need protection? Does Chella? Is Chella okay?”

“Flidae wants to punish me,” Reardon said, notes of shame and guilt lacing his words. “I’m certain she will accept an exchange for Dylan and Chella.”

Brandy scooted closer to Reardon, but he stopped her. “No. What I was about to do obviously angered Flidae. Again.” He rubbed his forehead. “You’d do well to stay away from me.”

“I can’t.” The two words spilled out of her mouth without her even having to think. “Soul mate, remember? We’ll figure this out together, Reardon. Together we’re stronger.”

He blinked those green-gold eyes at her. They went from cold and hardened to something warm and loving.

“Aye. Together.”

Chapter Sixteen

Reardon silently cursed himself. Once again, he’d been selfish, thinking only of what he wanted. Why hadn’t he learned his lesson? He’d turned his men because he wanted to win against Spain’s enemies. He wanted the spoils that went along with victory. He hadn’t cared what it cost him.

And now he’d done it again. He wanted Brandy. Gods, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything in his life, but Flidae had made it clear he couldn’t have what he wanted. Yet, he’d tried to get it anyway. The moment his elongated canines had neared Brandy’s lovely neck, the goddess had issued her warning. Though his ability to turn another into a werewolf was supposed to be used in the case of finding one’s soul mate, clearly Flidae didn’t think Reardon was deserving of such a partner. Why tell him about turning a soul mate then?

Just to toy with me.

You’re not staying here, wolf. The goddess’s voice thundered in his head to the point of being painful. He brought his hands up to his temples and rubbed the ache.

“Reardon?” Brandy’s hand stroked his forearm and she scooted closer, her body pressing against his side.

He turned to look at her. So beautiful. So not going to be his. He may have agreed that together they were stronger, but being together put her—and apparently her son—in danger. Flidae was not above using the boy to make sure Reardon suffered appropriately for his crime of turning his men.

He kept making bad choices. Choices that affected the ones he cared about most.

“So do I just drive up to Chella’s?” Parker asked from the driver’s seat, his gaze meeting Reardon’s in the truck’s rearview mirror. “Is this Flidae goddess waiting for us? Has she hurt Chella and Dylan?”

Brandy made an anguished noise, no doubt fearful for her boy.

“She wants me.” Reardon put his hand over Brandy’s as it tensed on his arm. The notion that her boy was in danger made her crazy. He felt the same way. Dylan had come to mean a great deal to him. He’d bonded with the boy while in wolf form and that bond could never be broken.

I can break it. Flidae taunted him.

You don’t lay a hand on the boy. I’m coming. You can have me and do as you see fit. Do nothing to Dylan or Chella.

Flidae’s laughter filled his head. But I rather like the woman’s form. It suits me.

Reardon considered those words. Flidae had taken over Chella’s body? This was bad. And what of Dylan?

I’ve done nothing to the boy. Not yet.

A sharp pain sliced through Reardon’s chest. Dylan must be so scared and it was all his fault. When would he stop hurting people who trusted him?

Parker’s truck skidded to a halt in front of a large, white house with a perfectly manicured front lawn. The property was quite different from anything Reardon had seen in the area and certainly in stark contrast to Silver Moon Sanctuary where he’d spent most of his time. Chella’s house suggested wealth and luxury and taste that went far beyond an appreciation for simple natural beauty. The sanctuary property was wild and carefree and exactly where he wanted to live out the rest of his days if given the chance.

You don’t belong in this time or this place. Flidae didn’t need to remind him, but she appeared to enjoy doing so.

Reardon immediately hated the house looming in front of them, and his wrath over what was potentially happening inside the pompous residency had him jumping out of the truck before Parker had the key out of the ignition.

Brandy scrambled out the same door he’d used and stood beside him for only a heartbeat, then she marched toward the house.

He reached out and grabbed her arm. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“Stronger together, remember? We’re going in there together and getting Dylan and Chella. We’re not wasting another minute.” She tried to maneuver out of his grip, but he tightened his hold.

“No. You stay here with Parker. I’ll send Dylan and Chella out.” Aye. This was a better plan. The farther he kept Brandy from Flidae, the better.

You can’t protect her, wolf. I can get to anyone I want.

Reardon clenched his fist and took a step toward the house, throwing a glance over his shoulder at Brandy. “Stay.”

“You don’t give me commands. I’m not a dog, Reardon.” She pulled on his arm so he had to face her and whispered, “Not yet anyway.” Arching her brow, she gave him a half-grin that reached into his chest and wrapped around his heart. How could she still want to be with him? How could she want to be like him? It was his fault Flidae had Dylan. “Soul mates don’t let each other face things alone.” She slid her hand into his and tugged him forward.

Parker was right behind them. “Should we have a weapon? We’re going in there blind.”

“Weapons will not work on Flidae,” Reardon said. “I’m not sure what will work.”

“Great. That makes me feel so much better.” Parker stepped around them and opened the front door. “Chella?”

A woman who looked very much like Chella came down a long staircase, but Reardon instantly knew the real Chella did not inhabit that body. Where that consciousness had gone was anyone’s guess.

Parker made a move to meet Chella on the stairs, but Reardon let go of Brandy’s hand and pushed Parker aside.

“Flidae, leave her.” His voice came out more commanding than he’d meant it to, but his warrior side was bubbling to the surface under these threatening conditions. “Chella has nothing to do with the situation between us.”

“Maybe not,” Flidae-Chella said. “But her form is so comfortable. I may keep it.”

A strangled sound came from Parker and he gripped the railing on the staircase. “Please, don’t hurt her.”

Flidae-Chella peered around Reardon to look at Parker. “Do you love this body?”

“I love the woman who usually inhabits it,” Parker said. “I beg you. Don’t hurt her.”

Brandy rested her hand on Parker’s shoulder, but her eyes darted around the immediate area, no doubt looking for her son.

“The boy?” Reardon asked. “Where is he?”

“Tucked away.” Flidae-Chella fluffed the folds of the long, flowing skirt she wore. “He’s rather brave for such a small boy. I’m very intrigued by him.”

Now Brandy released a pained sound. “He’s all I have of my sister. Please, Flidae, let’s work something out.”

Flidae-Chella laughed, the echo resonating through the eerily quiet house. “You aim to bargain with a goddess, human?”

“I’ll do whatever it takes to keep my boy... and Reardon.” Brandy slid her hand off Parker’s and stood by Reardon.

“Whatever it takes?” Flidae-Chella’s eyebrows rose over glowing eyes. “Ambitious.” She raised her arms and suddenly Reardon was thrown toward the front door. His body slammed into the wall and he slid to the floor in a heap of limbs. Everything hurt, as if his spine had been shattered to bits.

Brandy screamed and ran to him, immediately getting to her knees beside him. “Are you okay?”

He nodded slowly, taking a quick inventory of his physical state. Everything still moved so he assumed nothing had been broken, but his still-healing leg throbbed from the way he’d landed on it, and the wind had been knocked out of his lungs. He sat there and gulped down some air.

Flidae-Chella floated down the rest of the stairs, her form growing in size as she approached. She wrapped her hand around Parker’s throat and backed him up against the wall in the foyer. In his struggles, Parker knocked an expensive-looking vase off a small table. The sound of it exploding to bits as it hit the floor echoed in the otherwise quiet house.

“Please!” Brandy begged as she shot to her feet and ran to Parker. “He has nothing to do with your beef with Reardon. Parker and Chella are not a part of this. Let them go. And let my son go.”

Flidae-Chella glanced over her shoulder, and Reardon absolutely did not like the way she glared at Brandy. He got to his feet, but not fast enough.

In two seconds flat, Flidae-Chella dropped her hold of Parker, leaving him slumped over on the floor, and swept Brandy off her feet, pinning her to the hardwood flooring with one hand. With her free hand, she unleashed an invisible force that held Reardon back. He couldn’t get to Brandy. It was as if a stone wall—one he couldn’t see—had been erected between him and Brandy.

Flidae-Chella put her face inches from Brandy’s. “I am the goddess of wild things. I do not listen to what humans want. I do not listen to commands humans issue. This wolf made a grave mistake turning men to wolves for material gain. He was sent here as punishment. Not to find his soul mate.”

“So you recognize that I am his soul mate?” Brandy choked out, her hands wrapped around Flidae-Chella’s wrist as she tried to keep the goddess from crushing her windpipe.

Reardon pounded a fist against the barrier, but Flidae-Chella didn’t pay him a second’s attention. He didn’t exist to her at the moment. Only Brandy and her rebellious words existed, and Flidae-Chella wouldn’t be one to let those words go unchallenged. Reardon had never felt so helpless in all his life.

“It matters not if you are his destined partner. Reardon McAlator used his gifts to make men into feral killers. Not in the name of justice or truth or liberty. No.” Flidae-Chella shook her head, Chella’s hair swinging from side to side. “No. He changed them so his record of brutality would not be broken. He didn’t ask his men if they wanted to be changed. He didn’t ask me. He made a decision that wasn’t his to make. Now he must pay the price.”

“I will pay the price, Flidae,” Reardon shouted from his side of the transparent wall between him and Brandy, not even sure if he could be heard. “I will pay any price. Just leave these people be. Return Chella to Parker, and Dylan to Brandy.” He banged his fist against the wall again. “I’ll go willingly if you do not harm any of these people.”

Flidae-Chella finally looked up at Reardon, confirming she did indeed hear him. She released her grip on Brandy and straightened to an imposing height. A bright flash of light nearly blinded Reardon and when he could see clearly again, Chella’s body was on the floor beside Brandy’s. Flidae was back to her apparition form, a ghastly white mist surrounding her image.

“Perhaps taking you back with me is the only way to truly punish you, wolf.” She angled her head at him. “You’ve missed the point of doing something worthy, as were my terms. Finding your soul mate in this place, in this time, is still self-serving. You always wish to gain something.”

Reardon couldn’t argue with this. He did want Brandy. And Dylan. He wanted them for himself. He wanted to change Brandy so she’d be like him and enjoy an elongated lifespan, meaning she’d have more time to spend with him. She made him happy and he wanted that happiness. Desperately.

“Not that I owe you anything,” Flidae said as she looked to Brandy then waved her hands in front of her.

“Mom!” Dylan’s voice suddenly echoed from somewhere upstairs.

Brandy scrambled to her feet. “Dylan! Where are you, baby?”

“He’s upstairs. You’ll find him unharmed.” Flidae gestured up the stairs, a sly grin on her face. “Go to him or... stay here and claim your wolf. You choose.”

Brandy paused with her hand on the staircase railing. “What?” She shot a glance to Reardon, a crease between her brows.

“You can go upstairs and get your boy or stay right here and get your wolf. You can have only one.”

“These were not the terms, Flidae,” Reardon said.

“I can change the terms. I’m the one with all the power.” Her smile nearly glowed as she enjoyed her cleverness.

Reardon let out a low warning growl. “My patience for these games grows thin, Flidae.”

“Your patience wears thin?” Flidae shook her head, her mane of hair flowing like black tentacles about her head. “You don’t have to deal with unruly wolfmen.” She looked back to Brandy, who still stood frozen by the stairs. “What will it be? The boy or the soul mate?”

Brandy’s gaze slowly rose to meet Reardon’s, tears collecting in those beautiful blue eyes.

Reardon knew she only had one choice. “Go, Brandy. Dylan must have his mother.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He shook his head. “No, I am.”

Before he could utter another word, the scene before him disappeared. He’d involuntarily shifted to wolf form and something tight encircled his neck.

“Some wild things,” Flidae began, “need taming.”

Reardon felt a tug and looked to Flidae standing beside him, her form more solid again. She held a long gold rope which bound him around the neck. Bound him to her. Chella’s house was gone. He was no longer in Brandy’s time.

He attempted to shift back to human so he could talk, but found he couldn’t do it.

Flidae’s laughter filled the air around them. “You’ve been so eager to turn everyone into wolves. I think it’s time you stayed in your wolf skin. Your human brain only gets you in trouble.”

Reardon let out a howl, but Flidae only tugged painfully on the golden rope, leading him to what he now realized was her realm back in Ireland. The last image burned in his mind was of Brandy, her lovely face creased with anguish.

She’s better off without me.

But he was definitely not better off without her.

****

“Reardon? Where did he go?” Brandy whirled around in a circle, helped Parker to his feet, then ran through the rooms on the first floor, but Reardon was nowhere.

“Mom?”

Dylan. She had to go to him. Taking the stairs two at a time, Brandy ran into the guest bedroom, Chella’s office, the bathroom. She skidded to a halt when she found Dylan sitting in the huge, claw-footed bathtub, looking very small and very afraid.

“Oh, baby.” She climbed right into the tub and gathered him into her lap.

He didn’t hesitate or hold back. Tears poured from his eyes as he clutched Brandy around the neck. Her heart broke.

Again.

“It’s okay, baby. You’re okay. We’re all okay.” Except Reardon. She had no idea where he’d gone. He’d been there one moment and then poof. He and Flidae had disappeared. What was that crazy-ass goddess doing with him? Would she return him?

She tended to think the answer to that was no. So how do I get him back? Because she had to get him back. She didn’t know much about wolf-to-human romances or soul mates or Irish warriors or time travel, but she did know she’d never felt a connection so deep with any man as she had with Reardon.

Living without him was not an option.

She ran her hands over Dylan. “You’re not hurt, are you? She didn’t hurt you?”

Dylan shook his head that was buried in the curve of her neck, and a muffled no sounded against her throat.

“Okay, good. Let’s get you home.” She stood in the tub, taking Dylan up with her.

After stepping out of the tub, she guided Dylan out and led him down the stairs. The boy didn’t leave her side, didn’t say much, and she absolutely hated that he was so freaked out. He never should have been in that situation. How did one get over being abducted by a Celtic goddess?

“Who was that lady, Mom?” Dylan wiped at his face with the end of his T-shirt.

“Someone who was upset with Reardon.”

“She looked like Chella, but it wasn’t her. I don’t understand.” He sniffed and wrapped his arms around Brandy’s waist.

“I know, baby. I promise to explain as much as I can to you when we get back home.”

“Okay.” He looked around the foyer, taking in the broken vase. “Is Reardon okay?”

“I hope so.” But right now she needed to find Parker and Chella who weren’t in the foyer where she’d left them. “Park?” She made her way into Chella’s living room and found him leaning over the couch.

Chella’s limp form was tiny and fragile on the cushions, her hair a wild mess and her skin pale. Not pale in the beautiful China doll way either.

“Is she... oh, God, she isn’t...” Brandy couldn’t form the question.

Parker shook his head. “She’s still breathing and she’s got a steady pulse, but she won’t open her eyes. I was giving her a minute. I mean, her body was hijacked.” He straightened and ran his hand through his hair, making the strands stand on end for a moment before they fell back into place. He looked pale as well, and Brandy hated that her friend and his fiancée had gotten dragged into this mess.

“No harm in calling 911, Park. Want me to do it?” She reached around to her pocket and grabbed her phone as Dylan clung to her other arm.

“I got it.” He pulled out his own phone, but looked up at Dylan then Brandy before dialing. “Are you guys okay?”

“We will be.” She squeezed Dylan to her side, dropping a kiss on the top of his head.

“And Reardon?” Parker held up a hand while he gave the 911 operator the details then disconnected. “Where is he?”

“I think... I think Flidae took him.” It was the only conclusion that made any sense.

“Took him? Where?”

“I don’t know. I’m... I’m not sure where to look either.” She closed her eyes, remembering how Flidae had thrown Reardon against the wall. That goddess packed a great deal of power—power she’d use to punish the werewolf Brandy loved. “I have to find him though. I have to.”

Parker opened his mouth, but Chella stirred on the couch and he put his hand to her cheek. “Chella? Baby, can you hear me?”

She struggled to sit up, putting a hand immediately to her head. “Such a headache.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a croak.

“Take it slow.” Parker propped her up with some throw pillows. “Let me get you a drink.”

“No.” Chella cleared her throat and grabbed Parker’s wrist. Her brows lowered and her eyes darted from left to right as if she were watching something.

Brandy actually looked to where Chella’s gaze was focused on the fireplace across the living room. “What are you looking at, Chella? Do you see something?”

Chella put a hand to her stomach, and Brandy thought the woman might be sick. “I see a huge, black wolf tied in a stone chamber by a golden rope.” Slowly, she focused wide eyes on Brandy. “He looks cold.”

“She’s got Reardon tied up.” Brandy put a hand to her mouth, desperate to make demands of Flidae to release Reardon, but she had no idea if the goddess could still hear her. And if she could, would Brandy further anger Flidae and put Reardon more at risk?

“Reardon?” Chella slid her legs over the side of the couch and Parker sat beside her, smoothing his hand over her hair, rubbing her back.

“Take it slow, baby,” he said.

“I’m okay.” Chella turned to look at Brandy. “What does Reardon have to do with that black wolf? The wolf looks like that huge one at your sanctuary. Albert, Albacor...”

“Alator,” Dylan said.

Brandy glanced at Parker. “You didn’t show her the video?”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t sure what I was seeing when I first watched it. I knew I had to keep whatever Reardon was away from you.”

“He’s not a threat.” She squeezed Dylan closer.

“He doesn’t mean to be.” Parker rubbed his forehead. “But let’s review tonight’s events, shall we? Dylan was kidnapped. Chella was possessed. You and I got knocked around by an ancient Celtic goddess. Last, but not least, Reardon got taken by said goddess and is apparently being held captive like a common mongrel.” He puffed out a breath. “Does that about sum it up?”

“Unfortunately.” Brandy’s shoulders lowered as she held Dylan, eventually dropping another kiss on the boy’s head. “But he didn’t hesitate to save our lives when that car was barreling toward us in town. I owe him.”

She owed him and she had things she wanted to give him freely. Her love. Her soul. Her normal human existence. She wanted to be like him, to be so closely bonded with him, to enjoy the gift he could give her. All her life she’d been fascinated by tales of shifters, thinking them no more than fantasy.

But they’re real. As real as a six-foot-plus, smoking hot, super sweet, time-traveling werewolf can be. God, she missed him as if someone had come along and stabbed her in the chest, carved out her heart, and left a gaping hole.

Sirens cut into whatever reply Parker or Chella had, and Brandy hugged Dylan closer as the sound grew nearer.

“I said I was fine,” Chella said. “Confused maybe, but fine.”

“I’d already called.” Parker held up a hand to a protesting Chella. “And it won’t hurt to have a quick exam. Then I’ll show you the security cam footage so you’ll be up-to-date.”

“What am I supposed to tell the EMTs?” She angled her head to the flashing lights now flickering through the oversized living room window.

“We’ll say you passed out. I’ll take care of the talking. You sit and looked exhausted.” Parker went to the front door to let the EMTs in.

“Exhausted. That will be easy.” Chella smoothed the wrinkles in her long skirt. “I’ve never been this tired.”

While the EMTs fussed over Chella, Brandy took Dylan into the kitchen, got him a glass of water, and sat him down at the table. She pulled out the chair next to him and lowered into it. Drumming her fingers on the table, she struggled with if and how to tell Dylan about what Reardon was.

Finally Dylan looked up at her and said, “Just say it. I’m not a little kid, Mom.”

He was right, of course. He hadn’t been a little kid for a while, and she knew that, but was revealing that werewolves were real an easy discussion at any age? She hadn’t had a problem with it. Then again, she’d been secretly studying lycanthropy for years. Hadn’t a part of her brain accepted the possibility that all those case studies were real evidence of the paranormal? Hadn’t she wanted it all to be true?

Hell, yeah. And now that she knew Reardon existed, she couldn’t let him get away. Dylan had been the central focus of her life all this time, and if she wanted to add Reardon—if she’d be allowed to add Reardon—she needed to tell her son everything.

“You love Alator, right?” Brandy began as she rested her hand on Dylan’s shoulder.

“Yeah. He’s my favorite of all the wolves though he’s been with us the shortest amount of time. I don’t know. He’s... he’s special.” Dylan pushed his glass of water away and turned to face Brandy more fully.

“Special. That’s exactly the right word for Alator.” She pictured that huge wolf defending her against Hank Swift. She envisioned snuggling up to Alator and the comfort he brought. She imagined those green-gold eyes, full of affection, wisdom, and fierce loyalty. “You like Reardon too, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Dylan said. “He’s cool. Without him, we would have been road kill in town.”

“Right.” Here goes. “So remember when you said Reardon had eyes like Alator’s?”

Dylan nodded.

“Well...” Brandy searched her brain for the right words, but they wouldn’t come. What were the right words to tell a ten-year old boy that the wolf he loved and the man he thought was cool were the same?

A picture is worth a thousand words. She set her phone on the table, pulled up the security camera footage, and slid the phone over to Dylan.

“Press play and then we’ll talk.”

Dylan picked up the phone and tapped the screen. He focused with rapt attention, not saying anything as Reardon—unfortunately a naked Reardon—led the wolves to the entrance gates. He didn’t blink as Reardon set foot beyond the gates, crouched, and shifted.

The video ended and Brandy had no idea what was going through Dylan’s head. The boy’s facial expression hadn’t changed from beginning to end of the video.

“Dylan?”

Still the kid stared at the screen.

Brandy reached out and touched Dylan’s hand resting on the table by her phone. “Baby, what do you have to say about this? You must have questions.”

Slowly, Dylan’s blue-eyed gaze met hers. His eyebrows rose and this look of pure glee swept over his face. “Reardon really is a SUPERHERO!”

Comic books. The kid thought Reardon was a comic book character.

Brandy wrestled with that for a few seconds then searched Dylan’s face for any signs of fear or non-acceptance of what he’d viewed on the video. Finding none, she said, “Yeah, I guess he is sort of like a superhero. He’s certainly saved us and he definitely has a special power.”

“He can turn into a wolf! That’s the coolest, Mom!” Dylan popped out of his chair. “You told Parker that someone has Reardon, right? An angry goddess?”

“A powerful, angry goddess.” Brandy rubbed her temples, wondering what the hell her next steps should be.

She looked up when Dylan’s hands rested on her shoulders. “Mom, this is so just like a comic book. Now it’s our turn to save him.”

“Honey, I want to. Believe me, I want to, but I’m not sure how.”

“I know how,” Chella said.

Brandy turned to find Chella standing in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. Parker was right behind her, looking a little more relaxed no doubt because his fiancée was back on her feet and not looking so pale anymore.

“What do you mean?” Brandy stood now too.

“I have a message,” Chella said. “From Flidae.”

Chapter Seventeen

Reardon paced in wolf form in the stone cell Flidae had deemed as his new home. The golden rope she’d used to enslave him had a choking grip around his neck, but he couldn’t keep still. He couldn’t shift. He couldn’t talk.

He couldn’t be with Brandy.

That last limitation hurt the most. He’d had no chance to say a proper goodbye. To kiss her once more. To hold her once more. At least every curve of her body, every smooth expanse of flawless skin, every scent that made Brandy uniquely her was burned into his memory. He would never, never forget her. She’d be with him always—at least in thought and in his heart, even if he couldn’t be with her as he wanted to.

Though he’d only been among Brandy, Dylan, Meredith, Parker, and even Chella for a short time, they’d come to be more family to him than anyone else had been. His mother loved him. He knew that. But she hadn’t given him the attention or the care a true mother should.

His brother, Jaemus, loved him too. At least he had before Reardon changed him without his permission. Still that connection wasn’t like what he experienced with Brandy and Dylan.

Reardon had a bond with Kole, Shawn, and Erik too, but once again, he’d severed that link when he shared his ability with them without their consent.

Any way he looked at it, Brandy and Dylan—and the sanctuary’s wolves—were the closest thing to a family he would ever have and he craved that so damn much. To be a part of their lives. To have them be a part of his. To love them for as long as his werewolf life would allow him.

Brandy had also given him a home at Silver Moon. It’d been a long time since he’d called one place home, but the sanctuary certainly felt like one. The wolves had accepted him and made him their Alpha. He felt empty without them around.

The big iron door to his cell scraped open with an ear-piercing screech. He instantly lowered to his belly and put his paws over his head, attempting to cover his large and sensitive wolf ears. When Flidae floated in, a long violet-colored cloak swimming around her slim form, he wished he could sink his teeth into her.

“Now, now,” she warned, waving a finger at him. “Ripping me to shreds will do you no good, wolf.”

Get out of my head.

“But it’s so much fun in your messy head, Reardon McAlator. So much fun.” She clapped her hands. “I have ideas on more fun.”

Reardon raised his head, not liking the sound of this at all.

“True. What’s fun to me has not been fun to you lately.” She wandered deeper into the cell, but not close enough for Reardon to reach her from the end of the golden rope, which told him perhaps she was a little afraid of him.

Good.

“You overestimate yourself again, mutt.” Flidae’s form grew in height, her cloak lengthening magically as she towered over him. “I command creatures far more frightening than you and they don’t intimidate me in the least. They bow down to me. As should you.”

She raised her hand, fingers spread, and suddenly an immense pain tore through his skull. Reardon had no choice but to drop his head and cover it with his paws again. It felt as if someone were taking an ax blade to his head.

“Your will is strong, but I am stronger. You’ll do well to remember who is dominant and who is submissive. That’s been your problem all along. When you killed for money, but didn’t use your wolf abilities—abilities I bestowed upon you—I didn’t care what you did. Kill all you want as a human. That activity doesn’t concern me.” Flidae lowered her hand and the splitting pain stopped, but not without leaving Reardon with a headache so intense his eyes hurt. “It’s when you chose to use your wolf to kill and made other wolves to do the same... well, that’s when I had to step in. I’m in charge of all wild creatures, Reardon McAlator. You are not.”

How he wished he could shift to human. He had some words for Flidae and he didn’t care if she didn’t like those words.

“You can give me your words, wolf. I hear everything even if it is not spoken aloud.” She folded her arms across her chest and reduced her size back to normal.

I made a mistake. You sent me from this place, this time, as punishment. You took my life here away. I felt that loss, Flidae. It was a fitting consequence for my arrogance in changing my men without their consent... or yours.

He sat up on his haunches, not wanting to stay in the cowering position and sensing that Flidae was truly listening to him.

My men were the only family I had and what I did to them is unforgivable. I don’t expect them to accept any apologies if I ever see them again, but separating me from them hurts for I have no chance to make it up to them. They have been scattered and their hatred for me has no doubt only grown. I do not know how they fare. Have they been sent to times and places that are harsh? Are they getting a chance to do something worthy? Are you tormenting them as you are me?

At that last question, Flidae raised an eyebrow. “I think your men have been tormented enough simply by being turned into werewolves. Regular men do not always handle such a change well. You were made to be able to endure it. And my purpose in scattering them was to further punish you.”

Does that mean they have been sent to good times and places? He hoped this for his men who had not only suffered because of what he’d done to them, but had suffered because of the very life they’d led as mercenaries. Trained killers for hire under his leadership. Damn. Had he ever done anything to benefit those men? He’d basically led them to probable death each time he’d accepted a contract. Most of those jobs had ended with them receiving a handsome reward, but had it been worth it?

“I can’t see how it could have been worth it, wolf,” Flidae said. “Your life before this point has been nothing but brutality. I fear you are incapable of truly putting another first. You even managed to get something for yourself out of your time with the wolf scientist.”

But she got something too.

“Did she?” Flidae floated toward the cell door. “That’s what I want to confirm next.”

Confirm? How? Reardon’s stomach did a sick roll. He didn’t want Flidae even thinking about Brandy.

“The fun I mentioned earlier,” Flidae said. “It’s about to begin.”

****

“I most certainly am going.” Brandy held her hands out for Parker’s truck keys as they stood in Chella’s driveway. “Flidae’s giving me a chance to see him. I’m taking it.”

“Okay. Okay.” Parker waved his hands in a calm-down-now gesture. “Let’s think for a minute here.”

“She has to go.” Dylan looked at Parker then back to Brandy. “You’ve read all the comic books with me. Sometimes the superhero needs saving too.”

Parker’s gaze softened. “I know, bud, but I’m worried about your mom.” He looked at Brandy now. “You don’t know what Flidae is up to or what she might do to you.”

“She’s offered me an invitation to see Reardon,” Brandy said. “That’s all I need to know.”

“But you don’t know where you’ll end up, B!” Parker raked his hands through his hair, his frustration clearly growing by the minute.

“I know you’re concerned, Park, bu—”

“Concerned! I’m a shit-ton more than concerned, Brandy. I mean, in the span of a few hours, I’ve watched a man turn into a wolf, a Celtic goddess take over my fiancée, that same goddess toss a fairly large man around like a ragdoll, and then she disappeared into thin air along with the wolf.” Parker paced between Brandy and Dylan, muttering a few more words Brandy couldn’t quite hear and probably didn’t want to.

“But that wolf, Park? That wolf is mine. I’ve cared for that wolf. We’ve cared for that wolf and last I checked, we’ve made a career out of helping wolves anyway we can. Factor in that the wolf in question is also the man that I...” The next words got caught in her throat as the truth of them slammed into her chest. “He’s the man that I love. Just like you love Chella. Wouldn’t you do absolutely anything for her?”

Parker jammed his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants and sifted out a long breath. When he pulled his hand out of his left pocket, his truck keys dangled from his fingers.

Brandy snatched them up before logic and reason made him change his mind. She stepped forward and quickly hugged her friend. “Thank you,” she whispered in his ear.

“Yeah, well, you’d better get your ass back here in one piece to tell me, in person, that I was a fool for worrying about you.” He dropped a light kiss on her cheek then stepped out of the embrace to rest a hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on the kid until Meredith can come get him.”

Brandy kneeled in front of Dylan. “Any last minute words of advice from your vast comic book knowledge?”

Dylan squinted as if he were searching his mental database of all things comic book and looking for any pearls of wisdom. “Yeah, no monologues and consider everything in your environment a possible weapon.” He threw his arms around Brandy’s neck and squeezed. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, baby. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“I know you will. The good guys always win.”

Brandy ruffled Dylan’s hair then ran to Parker’s truck before her rational, scientific brain could take over and agree with Parker that what she was about to do was insane. She hopped in the truck and started the engine as she took a mental picture of her son and her best friend to carry with her into the unknown.

As she drove, she reviewed Chella’s message from Flidae. The goddess had invited Brandy—and only Brandy—to go to the spot where she and Parker had first found Reardon injured in wolf form. Flidae had promised to allow Brandy to see Reardon. Sure, it all sounded like a plot to lure Brandy in, but she didn’t care. She had to go. She had to try to get Reardon back.

Brandy had always considered her life a good one. Even with the loss of her twin sister all those years ago, she’d made the most of what she did have—an amazing boy, a fulfilling job, the company of beautiful wolves, a breathtaking woodland property to call home, a phenomenal best friend, a supportive and loving mother. What more could a woman ask for?

I know the answer to that now.

Reardon McAlator. Having him in her life would change it from a good one to a happily-ever-after-fairy-tale-romance-novel one.

And she wanted that. Desperately. She also wanted Reardon to be happy and he seemed happy with her, Dylan, and the wolves of Silver Moon.

He belonged with them.

She slammed on the brakes once she got to the entrance gates of the sanctuary, making Parker’s truck stop at an odd angle in the dirt. After hopping out of the truck and fumbling with the latch on the entrance gates, she bolted for her cabin.

Meredith stood in the door. “What’s happening? Parker called and gave me the details, but he couldn’t be serious.”

Brandy’s gaze swept over her mother’s worried face. “He was serious, Mom.”

Meredith let out a pained cry. “Oh, Brandy. What if something happens to you? I’ve already lost one daughter. I can’t lose two.”

“You’re not going to lose me. You’re going to gain Reardon. As a part of this family. I can’t imagine the universe would give him to us and not let us keep him. I’ve got to fight for him, and that’s what I’m going to do.” She’d never felt surer about anything in her life.

Meredith managed a small smile. “Determined as always.” She tugged Brandy into a hug. “Should have known a regular man wouldn’t be enough for you. You need one that can turn into a wolf and piss off goddesses. You do like a challenge.”

“And fortunately I come from a long line of kickass bitches.”

“Damn straight.” Meredith kissed her on the forehead. “You get Reardon and get both your asses back here. We’ll all be waiting.” She motioned behind Brandy with her arm.

When Brandy turned around, all the sanctuary’s wolves were fanned out in a semi-circle in front of the house. That was strange enough to witness—again—but what really got Brandy was that she could feel... something. Wolf energy, maybe? Pack power? Canine courage? She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she definitely sensed that her wolves approved of her mission to get Reardon back.

After giving Meredith another squeeze, Brandy set off into the woods to the place Flidae had indicated. The rest of the wolves followed behind her, Lug and Midir in the lead and often rubbing against her.

“Am I back to being Alpha now that Reardon’s gone?” She scratched Lug between the ears then rubbed Midir’s nose.

When she reached the section of fence where Reardon had been found on the other side, the wolves each took a turn nuzzling her.

“You guys keep an eye on things here. I’m counting on you.”

Brandy climbed the chain link fence and hopped down to the other side. She stood in the general area where she’d found Reardon and turned in a circle.

“Not sure where the door is, Flidae?” What was she supposed to be looking for?

A moment later, all the wolves let loose howls that made Brandy’s skin prickle. A bright bolt of lightning crashed down to the ground and the woods around her were gone.

****

Reardon’s head still hurt so when the thunder boomed and the lightning crackled right inside the stone cell, he howled and covered his head yet again with his paws. When the echoing stopped, he considered staying like that until Flidae left.

“Reardon?” But it wasn’t Flidae who’d called his name.

His eyes shot open and he immediately got to all fours, straining at the golden rope tethering him and trying desperately to get to Brandy who was now in the cell too. He barked in an attempt to yell at her. Yell at her to run away from this place.

I need to shift. He’d never been so frustrated.

Brandy took a step closer, but Flidae got in her path.

“I’m not ready to let you touch him,” the goddess said. “And the only rules we are playing by are mine.”

“What a surprise.” Brandy folded her arms across her chest and turned her blue gaze to Flidae. “Why don’t you tell me how this is going to work so we can get on with it?”

Flidae glanced back at Reardon, who was still pulling on the leash and barking. “You actually want this beast?”

“Yes, I do,” Brandy said. “Very much. I happen to love beasts. I’ve made a career out of caring for them, and the one you’re holding prisoner right now is my favorite. I’d like him back.”

Brandy looked around Flidae, and when Reardon saw her face, he stopped barking. He knew he must look a sight. Spittle no doubt dripping from his mouth. His fur standing on end along his back. His claws extended and scraping the stone floor of the cell. He’d nearly lost all sense of civility.

But one look at Brandy’s face brought him back from the edge. She’d come for him, though it was at great risk to her own life. He meant enough to her that she was willing to face—and sass—a powerful Celtic goddess on her own terrain. Damn, was there anything sexier?

“That’s all that is on your mind, wolf? How physically appealing she is?” Flidae spat the words at him and her wrath grew. Again. He couldn’t have her angry now though. Not with Brandy here.

No. I’m also thinking of her bravery, loyalty, kindness...

“Lug and the others say hello,” Brandy said. “Silver Moon isn’t the same without you, Reardon.”

Oh, how he loved her.

“He hasn’t been gone long enough to be missed.” Flidae’s disgust multiplied before Reardon’s eyes.

“Reardon became an important part of our lives in wolf form. We love him as we love all our wolves.” Brandy shook her head. “Actually that’s not true. My son and I love him more than our other wolves. We knew right from the start he wasn’t quite like the others.”

“This is true. He’s selfish, greedy, brutal. A killer,” Flidae said.

What hurt most was that the goddess was not lying. Reardon was all those horrible things and more.

“The Reardon McAlator Dylan and I came to know was none of those things. He protected us in wolf and human forms. He was sweet and playful and caring. He was exactly what our lives were missing.”

Brandy’s voice cracked and Reardon needed to get to her. Mustering every ounce of strength he had, he surged forward and the golden rope snapped in two, allowing him to run to Brandy.

Flidae stumbled out of the way, nearly falling over in the process, but Reardon didn’t stop until Brandy’s hands were rubbing over his fur, until she crouched and wrapped her arms around his neck, until she pressed her lips to his jagged ear and whispered the only words he wanted to hear.

“I love you, Reardon. So much.” She buried her face in the thick fur around his neck.

A strange sensation washed over Reardon as Brandy held onto him. He felt as if he were about to...

Seconds later, his very human arms were around Brandy, squeezing her as close as possible to his very human body.

“I love you too, Brandy. More than I ever thought I was capable of loving anyone.” He captured her mouth and tasted home on her lips. A home he’d always wanted. One he thought he could never have.

“And you still can’t have it.”

Reardon had almost forgotten Flidae was still in the cell with them. He got a painful reminder when she ripped him away from Brandy and threw him across the stone room. His head slammed into the wall with a thud that resonated in his skull like a drumbeat. Something wet oozed out of his nose and when he touched his fingers to it, they came away red with his blood.

“Please, don’t hurt him!” Brandy made a move to run to his side, but Flidae was quicker.

“Fine. I won’t hurt him,” the goddess said. “You will.”

“What do you mean?”

Reardon struggled to remain conscious as blood continued streaming from his nose and the cell spun around him. He fought with his eyes, because if they closed, he feared they might not open again, and he could not leave Brandy at the mercy of Flidae.

Another flash of light sparked in the cell and a fierce-looking sword appeared in Brandy’s hand. It was long and looked mighty sharp, its polished blade nearly glowing with its own power. The sword must have been heavy because Brandy stumbled a little until she got both hands around it. When she realized it was a sword, she unwrapped her hands from the hilt, but the weapon would not drop.

“That’s my little gift to you,” Flidae said, amusement clear in her voice. “Take it.”

“I don’t want it.” Brandy shook her hands. “I have no need for a sword.”

“Maybe not, but I have a need for you to have it.” Flidae lowered to sit on a stone bench in the cell. She rearranged the folds of her billowy cloak then leveled her gaze on Brandy. “I brought you here to further punish this werewolf. This is not a rescue mission, dear girl. He has disregarded my rules, acted selfishly, and has not done anything worthy that I can see.”

“Yes, he has,” Brandy said as she fought against holding the sword. No matter how far she held her fingers apart though, the hilt wouldn’t move from her palms.

“What has he done that is worthy?” Flidae asked, her tone mocking and disbelieving.

“He has loved me and my son.”

“Love is nothing worthy.” The goddess huffed out a breath and rolled her eyes to the ceiling.

“It is the only thing that’s worthy,” Brandy said softly. “Without it, we have nothing.”

“I have much more than love.” Flidae stood. “I have power.”

Brandy let out a scream and Reardon moved so he could lean his back and head against the cold, stone wall to look in her direction. He gasped at the sword tip arrowing for his heart.

“Reardon, I can’t stop it! She’s controlling the sword and me!” Brandy dug her heels in, but the rubber of her boot soles shredded under Flidae’s power. “No, no, no.”

His head hurt so much, but somehow Reardon managed to get to his feet, using the stone wall behind him for support. “Flidae,” he roared. “This is between you and me. Send Brandy back. Now.”

“Spoken like a true Alpha.” Flidae words bounced off the walls, sounding as if they were coming from all directions at once. “Only problem is, I’m the Alpha around here.”

Again, Brandy surged forward with the sword pointed directly at Reardon’s midsection. Her muscles strained as she battled to keep the blade away from him.

He probably deserved this. To meet his end right when he’d found the one person who was truly capable of making him happy. The one person he wanted to make happy as well. The one person who was ready to accept what he was, who embraced it fully and wanted to be turned into a werewolf like him.

His soul mate was right here and he couldn’t give her everything she—and her son—wanted.

“Reardon, I’m so sorry,” Brandy cried, tears rolling down her beautiful cheeks. Was there anything in the world, her time or his, as perfect as she was? She was an amazing woman, a wonderful mother, a gifted scientist, a caring animal protector, and a skilled lover. She was everything.

And he was nothing. Nothing but an abomination of nature. One the protector of wild things no longer wanted under her domain.

That blade heading for his heart would definitely miss its mark. His heart was already gone. It belonged to the woman standing before him. It had belonged to her from the moment he’d awakened in wolf form at Silver Moon’s clinic and first set eyes on her. He hoped Brandy would remember him always and know he would have spent his life trying to give her everything. The sun, the moon, the stars. Whatever she wanted.

“Whatever she wanted?” Flidae rushed to him.

Both he and Brandy cowered, expecting the goddess to lash out at them. He wanted to put himself between Flidae and Brandy, but that sword tip was making a mark on his chest, blood trickling out in a warm, slow drizzle.

“Please, don’t make me hurt him,” Brandy pleaded.

The sword clattered to the floor between Brandy and Reardon and Flidae pushed Brandy out of the way. She landed on her bottom, her arms reaching back and breaking her fall. When she brought her palms to her lap, however, Reardon saw the torn flesh. The blood. The pain on Brandy’s face.

Something in his brain exploded and suddenly he was ripping into wolf form again. He lunged forward and sunk his teeth into Flidae’s thigh, biting down until his teeth were deep into her flesh. He hadn’t expected that. Flesh. The goddess always appeared to be more apparition than anything else. When blood filled his mouth, he was doubly surprised.

The shriek Flidae released also shocked him. “You monster!” She beat her fists against his head, but he didn’t let go. In fact, he clamped his jaws tighter until Flidae went limp between his teeth.

Releasing her, he stared at the sword sticking out of her chest. Brandy’s hands still gripped the hilt as she looked wild-eyed at Reardon then back at the blade embedded in the goddess.

“How is this possible?” Brandy asked, her voice hoarse from screaming earlier.

Reardon shifted to human and pried Brandy’s hands off the sword. He pulled her back from Flidae’s body that slowly sunk to the floor in a heap of violet cloak and long, dark hair. Another bolt of lightning sparked into the cell and Brandy shielded herself against Reardon’s bare chest.

He wrapped his arms around her, never wanting to let her go. She was shaking and he squeezed her tighter. “It’s okay, fairy lass. I’ve got you.”

She raised her head and blinked teary eyes up at him. “Do you? Do we have each other?” She looked back to where Flidae had fallen to the ground. Only she wasn’t there anymore. “Where is she? Is she dead? Can a goddess be dead?”

“I’m... not sure.” Reardon made a move to let Brandy go, but she dug her fingers into his shoulders.

“Don’t let me go.” She buried her face in the curve of his neck.

“I don’t plan to, Brandy. Ever.” He brushed his lips over her forehead. “But we need to figure out what’s happening here. While I’ll be the first to admit not having Flidae here is a wish come true, she’s also our ticket back to your time.”

Brandy sagged against him. “I was so concerned about saving you, I didn’t think about getting home.” A strangled cry tore from her throat. “We have to get back to Dylan.”

“And we shall. I promise.” He cupped her face. “My beautiful, brave fairy lass. You came for me.”

“Of course I did. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find the perfect werewolf? I’ve been searching my entire life.”

Reardon surprised himself by laughing. Only this magnificent woman could make him laugh when moments ago he’d been certain his life was ending.

Maybe it was just beginning instead.

Chapter Eighteen

Brandy wanted to stay in the warm embrace of Reardon’s strong arms for a long, long time, but he was right. They’d both attacked—and made bleed—their only means of getting back to the sanctuary, her wolves, her family, her home, her time. They needed to find a way to zap themselves back. Quickly.

“How do we find Flidae? If she could beam out of here, she can’t be dead.” Brandy released Reardon and nudged the fallen sword with her boot tip. She jumped back when a flash erupted from the sword and it completely disintegrated into a pile of black ash.

Reardon grabbed her arm and pulled her up against him. “Flidae might not be done with us yet. Be careful.” He bent and poked a tentative finger at the violet cloak the goddess had left behind. When he did so, the garment shimmered and moved as if it were alive.

“Get away from it.” Brandy pulled Reardon to his feet. She didn’t want to see him suffer any more than he already had. She wanted to get him home. Get him home and keep him.

Forever.

The cloak slowed its movement then changed from the violet color to something black and gray. Fabric swirled, a blurry pinwheel of motion. When it stopped, a pair of black jeans and a gray T-shirt were left in place of the cloak.

Brandy and Reardon stared at the clothing as if it were going to suddenly rise up from the stone floor on its own and attack them.

“I realize you desperately need those,” Brandy whispered, “but I’m afraid of what putting them on might do to you.”

“It won’t do anything.”

Brandy’s heart nearly leaped right out of her chest at Flidae’s voice behind them. Instinctively, she stood between the goddess and Reardon. She wasn’t letting Flidae harm her werewolf. Not happening.

“You’re not dead.” Brandy’s voice crackled a little and she cleared her throat, wishing she had some magic of her own that would transport them back to the sanctuary before Flidae had the chance to toy with them further.

“Goddesses are eternal, mortal. While you can temporarily incapacitate us, you can’t kill us.” Flidae was fully restored. Not a trace of blood anywhere though Brandy had seen Reardon’s wolf teeth tear into her leg and she’d skewered Flidae with that sword as if she were a cube of meat ready for the grill. The goddess even wore a new cloak. This one was a rose color and appeared to be as soft as a rose petal too.

“You live forever?” Brandy asked.

“Live might not be the correct word.” Flidae floated deeper into the cell. “A better word would be exist. We exist forever.” The goddess’s eyes darted to Reardon. “I live through what I command. When my wolves don’t act honorably—as in they change their men without consent—I feel that betrayal as well. When you lead wolves onto the battlefield and massacre the enemies of your employers, I feel that wrath, that hatred, that fierce clinging to the last shreds of life. I could tolerate when it was just you out there, killing your way through your life, as a human. Once part of your army was wolves and you and those wolves killed, however, it was too much. Too much for even a goddess to shoulder. My protection binds us. I punished and scattered all of you to spare myself the grief.” Flidae closed her eyes for a quiet moment. “I feel all those emotions, and when you... love, I feel that too. I’m not supposed to, but I do.”

Reardon regarded Flidae for a stoic moment. Her expression gave her a faraway look, as if she were somewhere else, with someone else. Who was she thinking of?

When she shook her head and pointed to the clothes, Reardon retrieved them. He put them on and stepped in front of Brandy. After lowering to his knees before the goddess, he grabbed Brandy’s wrist and gently tugged her down into position beside him. His head was bent low, so Brandy did the same.

Her gaze zeroed in on Flidae’s feet. Hooves. The goddess had hooves instead of feet.

“You’re willing to take on paws, human?”

Brandy flicked her gaze up to Flidae’s face. “If it means I get to be with Reardon longer, I get to be with my son longer, then yes, I’m willing to be changed.” She was destined for this to happen to her. She knew that now.

Flidae turned her attention to Reardon. “And you truly want to make her happy? It’s not just what you will get out of the union?”

Reardon squeezed Brandy’s hand which he now held. “I only want to please this woman beside me. I want to give her everything she’s ever wanted. Her son too.”

Flidae glanced from Reardon to Brandy and back to Reardon. Brandy would have paid big bucks to read the goddess’s mind. Was she going to spare them? Was she going to allow them to be happy?

Or were these their final moments together? Their final moments period?

Flidae rubbed her thigh where Reardon had bitten her then her hand grazed over where Brandy had impaled her with the sword. “I witnessed firsthand what you two are willing to do to protect each other. It may surpass the protection I offer all the wild things. You were able to injure me and spill actual blood because I got too caught up in your very human emotions, your mortal reactions to one another.” She looked at Brandy. “You said love was something worthy. I have never experienced love, but have witnessed it between the two of you. I won’t deny you something so powerful.”

Brandy wanted to pop up to her feet in excitement, but Reardon held her firmly in a kneeling position.

“Thank you, Flidae. We are humbled by your gift,” he said as his hand squeezed Brandy’s again.

“See that you don’t waste the gift, wolf.” Flidae eyed Brandy. “I suppose I should say wolves. Turn her and you shall both be returned to her time if that’s what you choose.”

Now Reardon dragged Brandy up to standing. “What of my men? Shall they be granted access back here?”

Flidae had turned toward the cell door and was on her way out. She paused and glanced over her shoulder at Reardon. “They shall be granted access when they complete their own journeys.”

She left and neither of them moved for a long beat of silence.

“So we get to live?” Brandy leaned her head on Reardon’s shoulder then looked up at him.

“Aye, we do.” He turned those beautiful green-gold eyes her way. “We get to live our days together. Loving each other.” He caressed her cheek with his fingers, and she couldn’t resist pushing her face into his warm palm.

“That sounds perfect to me.” Brandy brought Reardon’s hand up to her lips and kissed his knuckles.

“Are you sure you want to be turned? Take your time with this decision. It can’t be undone.”

Brandy stepped closer, slid her hands up Reardon’s chest, and clasped them at the back of his neck. When his arms came around her waist, answering him was the simplest thing in the world.

“There is nothing I want more than to be a werewolf, Reardon. It will be the best of both worlds for me. I can still be the wildlife biologist who oversees wolf residents at Silver Moon and raises Dylan, but I can also fraternize with the pack as I’ve never been able to. You can communicate with them in wolf form, can’t you?” She knew she probably sounded like a super excited dork, but the potential to speak to her wolves exhilarated her.

“Aye. I can speak to them in wolf and human forms.” He laughed when Brandy’s eyes widened.

“Score! I’ve spent all these years researching lycanthropy and now that I can become a shifter myself, I can’t refuse.” She hugged him. “Plus, I get you in the deal too. Winning all around.”

“I’m glad you feel that way, but I think I’m getting the best deal here. I get a home, a pack, a son, and the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. Spending our lives together is like a fantasy.”

“Let’s get started on that fantasy, shall we?”

Brandy corralled her hair onto one shoulder, baring her neck to Reardon. When his pupils zipped open, only a thin, golden glow surrounding them, she shivered in anticipation. She felt like prey again. Happy prey. Eager prey.

Reardon made slow work of it. He took his time dropping light kisses along her shoulder and around her neck. His tongue glided over her skin, making her entire body quiver. He slid his hand into her hair, cradling her head and pressing his nose to her ear. His teeth closed gently over her earlobe then he tugged. In the next second he was soothing the area with his tongue, his lips.

Brandy wanted to simultaneously melt into him and jump around like an excited kangaroo. The conflicting sensations had her groaning with need.

“Reardon, please.” The more he toyed with her, the more aroused she became. “I can’t take anymore.”

A raspy chuckle rumbled in his throat which she silenced with an aggressive, fiery kiss. She owned his mouth, her hands kneading his shoulder blades while she pressed her front to his as his arousal sought to bury itself deep within her. She wanted nothing more.

Well... maybe there was one thing she wanted more.

“Turn me. Now,” she pleaded.

Her eyes widened as his canines extended and he ran his tongue over the sharp points.

“I have a feeling,” he moved in closer, “you’re going to be delicious.”

She was more than happy to be his snack. When his teeth pierced her flesh, she let out a small cry, but the pain was gone before her body had time to register it. Her blood soared in her veins, racing to all points like a red hot current. She threw her head back, arched her spine, and gripped Reardon’s shoulders as they both sunk to the stone floor of the cell. Her breathing was labored and the bite area was slick with her blood when Reardon retracted his canines, but she didn’t care.

She. Felt. Amazing.

“Brandy? Are you all right, lass?”

“All right? I’m wonderful.” Her entire body was a tuning fork, vibrating, sensitive, aroused.

“The change must be different in females then.” Reardon’s brows lowered. “When I changed my men, they were not feeling as you are now.”

“Soul mate, remember?” She pointed to herself. “That bite was meant for your soul mate. That’s probably the difference.”

And she was overjoyed to be his soul mate.

“I need to be inside you,” Reardon whispered hoarsely. “Please.”

All Brandy could do was nod as Reardon unzipped her shorts and slid his hands in to cup her bottom. In mere moments, he had those shorts down around her ankles and she stepped out of them. He nearly ripped her tank top in two as he yanked it from her torso. It landed in a heap by her shorts and she set to work on ridding him of the pants and T-shirt he’d only donned a few minutes ago.

She took a beat to look at him, to relish in his muscled perfection. Even with her blood staining his lips, she wanted him. Maybe more so. Was that normal?

None of this is normal.

But shit, Reardon was exactly what she wanted.

“Did I hurt you?” Reardon ran his fingers over what must have been two bite marks on her neck.

“No.” Brandy cut a path over his pectoral muscles with her fingertips. “I liked being bitten.”

Reardon grinned. “Good to know, fairy lass.”

In one quick motion, he swept her up by the backs of her thighs and she automatically clamped her legs around him. He settled himself inside her, easing in inch by precious inch until she was so full of him. So gloriously full.

Rocking gently at first, he increased the pace and soon she was moving in time with him, synchronized, thrust for thrust, climbing impossibly high in the circle of each other’s arms.

“I love you so much,” Reardon said as he shuddered inside her, causing the most amazing sensations to ripple throughout her body, touching her soul somehow.

Soul mates. Yes, that was what they were. The very definition.

“I love you too.” She tightened her hold on him as she crested over the wave he’d built between them and floated into pure bliss.

He slowly lowered them so he could sit on the edge of the stone bench in the cell. Resting his forehead against hers and breathing raggedly while she sat in his lap, still surrounding him, Reardon said, “Let’s go home.”

****

Was there anything more beautiful than his soul mate wearing his bite marks proudly on her neck? He’d finally claimed her and nothing would ever tear them apart. Nothing.

“Why aren’t we zapping back to the sanctuary?” Brandy asked.

Reardon detected the change in her heartbeat, the increased rhythm of her breathing, the somewhat wild look in her blue eyes.

“You haven’t turned yet.” He smoothed his hand over her long red waves of hair. “I can’t wait to see your wolf form.”

The smile Brandy gave him could have set an ocean on fire. Full of excitement, desire, allegiance to him. He’d never felt so completely bonded with anyone. He could feel her.

“How long will it take for me to shift?” Brandy held her arms out as if expecting to see wolf legs.

Reardon cupped her chin and stared into her eyes. The blue was now electric, softly glowing, and intense. “Judging by the light in your eyes, I’d say we’ll be on our way in seconds.”

“Really?” Brandy gripped his biceps. “My eyes are glowing like yours do?”

“Aye. A brilliant shade of blue, fairy lass. They’re lovely.”

Brandy leaned forward and pressed her lips to Reardon’s. In the next moment, she stumbled off his lap and wrapped her arms around her stomach, an expression of pain scrunching up her face.

“What is it?” He stood, gripped her shoulders, and found her skin hot to the touch. “Aye, it’s the change. Are you ready?”

Brandy nodded then let out a cry as she sunk to her knees.

Reardon winced, thinking about the stone floor connecting with her kneecaps. Soon small pains like that won’t mean anything to her. For once in his life, he felt as if being a werewolf was, in fact, a gift. A gift he was able to share with her.

“It’s happening!” Brandy looked up at him, her blue eyes on full glow now.

After a powerful roar, her flesh rippled, her bones crackled, and gorgeous copper-colored fur covered her wolf form. Her eyes remained blue and her new body was lithe, sleek, and fit. She stole his breath away with her beauty.

Brandy shook out her body then wagged her tail at him. That was all the invitation he needed. He shifted and immediately rubbed noses with her.

This is amazing. Her thoughts rang out loud and clear in his own mind.

Wolf looks good on you. That earned him a sloppy lick on his jagged ear.

We can hear each other? She rubbed along his side.

We are more connected than two people can ever be. Body, mind, soul. Reardon couldn’t stop looking at her. You are truly a sight, fairy lass.

Brandy turned in a circle as if trying to see herself. When she pressed her nose to his again, the stone cell around them flashed out of existence and was replaced by a field of crunchy, dead grass.

Where are we? he asked.

Again, she turned in a circle. The sun reflected off her fur and got caught in those marvelous eyes.

Hank Swift’s field just past the sanctuary’s borders.

Reardon scanned the trees nearby, happy that home was so close. But first...

We’ve taken care of my problem, he thought. Now let’s take care of yours.

He took off at a run. Brandy matched his pace, and he’d never felt so free, so perfectly in sync, so fortunate.

Soon an unkempt farmhouse came into view. The roof was ready to cave in and the wraparound porch veered away from where it should have been secured to the house. Though flower pots flanked the front steps, nothing green and summer-vibrant grew in them.

No wonder he’s miserable, right? Brandy thought.

Reardon nuzzled her neck, loving the pure smell of his mate. He led them—cautiously—around the house and to the equally decrepit barn where it sounded as if someone was using a handsaw.

Follow my lead, Reardon thought.

Using his paw, he pushed open the askew barn door. After a quick search to see if any guns or traps were in range, he eyed Brandy then let loose a ferocious bark.

Hank shouted, dropped his saw, and whirled around from the piece of wood he was cutting. He too looked around the barn for something to use as a weapon, but Brandy rushed forward with her own vicious snarling. The fur around her neck stood out like a lion’s mane and she bared absolutely every one of her teeth as he had.

All the color drained from Hank’s face, leaving him a nice shade of gray. Corpse gray. He attempted to flail his arms and shoo them away, but his attempt was stilted by outright fear.

This is fun! Brandy increased the frequency of her barking and rose to her hind legs a few times.

The two of them circled around the stunned man, each revolution bringing them closer.

Hank backed up until he hit the worktable behind him. “Where’s that stupid sheriff now? I’ll see that Silver Moon Sanctuary is shut down for good. Nothing but a bunch of rabid dogs over there.”

As soon as those words left his lips, Reardon shifted to human and Brandy did the same.

“Did he call us dogs?” Reardon said to an open-mouthed Hank. “No, I don’t think you’ll be shutting anything down. I think you’ll be packing your bags and moving to another location.”

“You don’t want to live next door to wolves that are much more than wolves, do you, Hank?” Brandy’s naked form distracted Reardon, but when he looked to Hank, the man didn’t seem to notice her incredible body. In fact, the only thing he did was wet himself.

“What are you?” Hank whispered.

“Your worst nightmare,” Reardon said as he lunged forward and grabbed Hank around the neck.

The older man sputtered and clawed at Reardon’s grip on him. “P-please, please. D-don’t hurt me.”

“If you leave this place and we never see you again,” Brandy said, coming up next to Reardon and giving Hank a look of pure disdain, “we won’t tear you, limb from limb. You’ve injured my wolves for the last time, Hank. No more guns. No more traps. No more you.” She poked her index finger into his chest at each period.

“And if we do see you around here,” Reardon added, tightening his hold, “it will be the last time anyone sees you. Got it?”

Hank nodded, speechless by this point. He had barely blinked through the conversation and looked as if he wanted to cry.

Reardon regarded him. The old Reardon McAlator would have simply charged ahead and torn the old curmudgeon to shreds. He knew Brandy wouldn’t approve of that, however, nor would Flidae.

You are learning, wolf, Flidae said from the distant recesses of his mind.

He’d learned so much already. About family. About pack.

About love.

“I’ll leave. I’ll put out a for sale sign today.” Hank’svoice crackled and Reardon felt a little bad. Just a little. “I don’t know why I’ve stayed here this long anyway. It hasn’t been the same without my wife. My livestock’s gone. I have nothing here.”

“Time to build your life somewhere fresh, Hank,” Brandy said. “Away from my wolves.”

Convinced Hank had read their message, Reardon shifted again to wolf form to drive the point home.

“And if you try to tell anyone what you’ve seen here today, consider what they will do with a crazy old man who spouts tales of wolves turning into humans.” Brandy shifted as well and bolted to the tree line after Reardon.

Staying in wolf form, they followed the sanctuary’s perimeter fence to the entrance gates.

We need clothes, Brandy thought.

Stay here. Reardon darted off to his secret stash of supplies and returned clothed in human form. “I’ll get you something to wear at the house and see if anyone’s here.”

Brandy sat on her haunches and he couldn’t resist scratching her between the ears as she had done to him so many times. She pushed her nose into his thigh then rubbed her body against his leg. She slithered around him, something of a purr humming in her throat.

“I feel exactly the same way, fairy lass.” He dropped a kiss on her muzzle and opened the gates. “Be right back.”

He jogged to the house, scanning for anyone who might be around. So far he’d only come across a few of the wolves and could smell the others heading in his direction.

Give me a few minutes, my friends. He had to get Brandy’s clothes to her first.

After rummaging around in her bedroom closet, relishing in her heavenly scent, he returned to her at the gates with a pair of denim shorts and a Silver Moon tank top. She shifted to human, and he had a moment to appreciate her nakedness, then she got dressed.

“Is anyone home?” Brandy gestured to the house with her chin.

“I didn’t see anyone, but maybe Dylan and Meredith are at Meredith’s.” He held his hand out to her. “Let’s check it out.”

Brandy didn’t hesitate. She stuck her hand in his and let him lead her to Meredith’s cabin.

When they got to Meredith’s front door, Reardon tugged on Brandy’s hand to slow her down. “How much do we tell them?”

“They can definitely handle it. Dylan has grown up on comic books. When he saw the video of you shifting, he was psyched and called you a superhero. He and Meredith will understand why I wanted to be like you. Besides, they already love you in wolf form. It won’t be long until they love your human form too.”

Reardon couldn’t help smiling at that. “I had a connection to the boy and your mother as soon as I met them. I believe the term soul mates means much more than finding one’s life partner. It means finding all those with whom your heart bonds.”

“Those people that complete you. I like that.” Brandy grabbed a fistful of his T-shirt and pulled him in close. “And I love being counted among your soul mates.”

He captured her mouth with his and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her as close as possible while they were still clothed. Hopefully, there would be un-clothed times later on tonight. He was really fond of un-clothed times.

“I’m not going to get sick of that.” Brandy brushed her fingers against his lips. “Ever.”

“Good, because we have a long time together ahead of us.”

Brandy clapped, smiling widely at him. How did he get so lucky? Banishment from Ireland had brought him unimaginable treasures. He only wished he could be sure his men enjoyed the same fate.

Maybe you can. Flidae’s voice was faint in his mind.

He was about to ask how when the door to Meredith’s house ripped open and Dylan came barreling out. The boy threw himself at his mother, nearly knocking her off her feet.

“Mom! You’re back!” He stepped back to look at her then buried his face against her chest again.

Brandy smoothed a hand over his hair and held him close. “I’m back, baby. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“Good.” Dylan released her and tossed himself at Reardon next, warming Reardon in a way he’d never quite felt before. “I’m glad you’re back too,” he craned his head back and grinned up at Reardon’s face, “Alator.”

“You accept that I’m both that wolf and this man?” Reardon stepped back from the boy’s embrace and angled his hands at his human form.

“Sure! It’s like finding out that two really cool things are all rolled up into one!” Dylan took Reardon’s hand and reached for Brandy’s too. He sniffed his mother’s hand and looked back at Reardon. “And you turned my mom, didn’t you? She smells... different. You like her, right?”

“I did turn her.” How had the boy smelled the difference in his mother? Was there some wolf in Dylan? Reardon planned to investigate that later. “But I don’t like your mom.”

“What?” Dylan and Brandy asked together.

“I love your mom.” Reardon looked at Brandy over the boy’s head and the love reflected back to him in her bright, blue eyes overwhelmed him. How had he gotten so damn lucky?

“You’d better love her.” This from Meredith who leaned in the doorway of her cabin, a smile on her face as well. “She risked everything to get you back.”

“Aye. She’s a brave lass.”

“It runs in the family.” Meredith took a turn hugging her daughter then Reardon. “Welcome home. Both of you.”

“So you’ll stay with us, Reardon?” Dylan led them around to the back of Meredith’s cabin where the view of the sanctuary’s woods was breathtaking. Mountains in the distance. Full treetops swaying gently in the summer breeze. Wolves lounging in the sun, waiting patiently for their Alpha—and Brandy—to run with them through the forest.

“Aye, I’ll stay with you.” Reardon turned toward Brandy. “On one condition.”

“That we still play catch every day?” Dylan asked.

Reardon laughed. “Oh, we’ll play catch every day, but that’s not my condition.” He took Brandy’s hands in his own, running his thumbs along her knuckles and searching for the right words. “I’ll stay here if your amazing mother will be my bride.”

Brandy slid her hands up to Reardon’s shoulders, her gaze full of something that made his insides ignite. She traced a finger along his jagged ear. “Deal. Now let’s seal it with a wolf kiss.”

He rubbed his nose against hers then caught her lips in a kiss so heated he almost shifted. Brandy’s scent swirled around him and he knew she was close to turning as well.

“Are vampires real too? How about mutants?” Dylan’s voice—and Brandy’s and Meredith’s laughter—brought Reardon back from the brink.

“I don’t know, lad. I’ve never met any.”

“But they could be, right? We should do some research, don’t you think, Mom?”

“Spoken like a true scientist. My heart is filled to overflowing.” Brandy put her hand to her chest and smiled at Reardon.

Reardon corralled Brandy in one arm and Dylan in the other. “Mine too.”

Epilogue

Fourth of July...

The sky was lit with red, white, and blue sparks, and the crowd around them oohed and ahhed after each pop, rumble, and hiss. Brandy leaned against Reardon’s chest as he sat on a blanket behind her, his legs bent by her sides acting like armrests.

Best chair ever. Certainly better than any rickety lawn chair like she usually brought to watch Canville’s annual Fourth of July fireworks. She’d always dreamed of sharing one of her favorite summer nights with someone like Reardon. Now she got to share all her summer nights with him.

Winter, spring, and fall too.

Nibbling at her ear made her press herself more firmly against Reardon. Maybe it was a werewolf thing, but the two of them were almost always touching in some way. It was probably sickening to watch. That was what Parker and Chella said anyway as if they weren’t equally all over each other, but Brandy didn’t care. She craved Reardon’s touch, needing it like she needed oxygen.

“Let’s go for a run,” he whispered, right before he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth.

Running had become one of their favorite things to do together—well, aside from making love, which Brandy was sure would always be number one on the list. Wolf kisses were apparently addictive. She could never get enough.

Pulling out her phone, she said, “I suppose we do need to run off all that blueberry pie we ate. Let me text Mom to see if she can take Dylan home.”

Dylan and Meredith were down by the water’s edge getting a closer view of the barge where the fire department set off the fireworks. After a quick series of texts, Meredith had agreed to watch Dylan, and Reardon had their blanket and picnic basket all packed up.

“How is it that you still look very Alpha with a picnic basket hanging from your arm?” Brandy teased.

“I’m confident in my manhood, fairy lass. Nothing can shake that.” He scooped an arm around her waist and brought her body up against his where she could very clearly feel his... manhood.

Damn, the man was always ready to go, and that got her all fired up.

“A run. Let’s go.” He nudged her toward the new SUV she’d picked up last week. It was black with the Silver Moon logo emblazoned on the doors in shimmery silver paint.

Reardon stowed their things in the back of the SUV right next to the flat stones they’d picked up yesterday to extend the patio behind the house. Stones that were heavy and awkward, but Reardon had lifted and loaded like they were bags of feathers. In fact, the home improvement store manager had seen Reardon muscling the stones around with ease and had offered him a job on the spot. It wasn’t a dream job, but it was a start for a werewolf trying to build a life amongst regular humans... and save some money for a wedding which was set for October when the Vermont foliage would be at its fiery best.

Brandy could hardly wait to be Reardon’s wife. Her life had been so focused on the wolves and raising Dylan. Meeting a man who shared those passions plus had that something extra special completed her. She had absolutely everything she’d ever wanted.

“Let’s head this way.” Reardon guided her away from the crowd and toward the dark woods bordering Canville’s center green.

Under the cover of night, they shed their clothes and Reardon made a small sack of his T-shirt so he could take their clothes with them. They slunk into the forest and shifted. In no time at all, the warm summer night was whipping by them in a blur of shadowed greens and browns. Every now and then, the sky flashed with fireworks, illuminating everything growing in those beautiful woods.

As a wolf, Brandy found her connection to the earth had grown so much deeper. She frequently felt as if her heart beat in time with everything wild around her. When she stopped to enjoy that bond, Flidae’s voice often whispered in her head.

You have earned my protection, she-wolf.

Brandy wasn’t always sure she wanted the goddess’s attention after seeing what she was capable of, but as long as Flidae was not angry with them, that was probably a good thing.

They continued running, stopping only for a moment when they got to the For Sale sign by Hank Swift’s mailbox. The man had made good on his plan to sell and get the hell out of Canville. Brandy was trying her best to make a deal happen with the university Parker worked at to purchase Hank’s land as a remote campus. Then she wouldn’t have to worry about another grouchy, gun-toting, trap-wielding old man buying the place and endangering her wolves, her family.

Finally they reached Silver Moon Sanctuary and after playing around in wolf form for a little while, they shifted to human and opened the entrance gates. Brandy reached for their clothes, but Reardon ran ahead.

“I think I prefer you without these.” He wiggled the bundle and smiled wickedly.

“Likewise.” She gave him an appraising look. His human form was spectacular. All those muscles. Those green-gold eyes. That dark stubble around his mouth.

That mouth.

She ran to catch up and leaped at him. He dropped the bundle and caught her easily, cradling her against his chest in those strong, protective arms.

“You know the best way to celebrate freedom on the Fourth of July?” she asked as he carried her toward the house.

Reardon shook his head.

“Exercising your right to kiss me all over and make love to me until the sun comes up.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “I think I like this American holiday, my fairy lass.” He dropped a kiss on her lips and set her down so he could open the front door.

Before he got it open, however, a rustling in the woods to their left stopped him.

Brandy looked in that direction. “Probably one of the wolves.”

“Reardon...” A scratchy voice sounded from the darkness.

“Or not.” Brandy got behind Reardon. “Who is that?”

“Show yourself.” Reardon’s voice was full of authority as he nudged her behind him, and an image of him as the fierce Celtic warrior he once was flashed in her mind.

More rustling sounded then a naked man, about Reardon’s size, spilled out of the shadows. He was filthy and bleeding and could barely stand.

Reardon rushed to the man. “Jaemus?”

Read on for the next book, WOLF FIRE!

WOLF FIRE

Book Two

Warrior Wolves Series

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by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter One

Jaemus McAlator hated his brother. Cowering in wolf form in front of Flidae, Celtic goddess of all wild things, he loathed what he’d become. Once a powerful warrior that kings hired to slay their enemies, Jaemus was nothing more than a mutt now, turned by his werewolf brother in the name of keeping his army victorious in battle.

Selfish bastard.

Winning was everything. Jaemus couldn’t argue with that, but he could protest the manner in which his brother had sought triumph. Turning his four closest men into werewolves without their consent was beyond absurd and definitely unwelcome. Who did Reardon think he was, playing with men’s lives like that? Just because he captained the army didn’t mean he could alter men’s fates without at least discussing it with them.

And now the goddess Flidae was furious. Reardon’s intent to use wolves to kill went against her rules for wild things, and she was tearing into him now.

Jaemus had trouble following exactly what the goddess was saying to his brother. All his energy was focused on trying to shift back to human, but Flidae was too strong. If she wanted them in wolf form for her tongue lashing, they were staying in wolf form, and there was nothing he could do about it. His head throbbed too, as her voice thundered along the Irish shores. The men around him—also stuck in wolf form—whimpered in pain, their large ears turned back against the goddess’s raging voice.

Then one word reached Jaemus.

Banished.

Flidae couldn’t mean... she wouldn’t... she wouldn’t send them away, would she?

In all his thirty-seven years, Jaemus had known no other home than Ireland. The army had traveled to neighboring countries, but they always returned to the lush green hills of their homeland. Always. Nowhere else in the world could be home.

Did the goddess mean to separate the men? Scatter them to the winds? Jaemus considered these men his brothers, though only Reardon McAlator, Kole McMannus, and Shane McMannus were his true kin. Erik Rheagan was his family—if not by blood, certainly by the number of times they’d saved each other’s hides. They were all he had in this world, aside from his mother whom he hadn’t seen since joining Reardon as a hired warrior. They enjoyed great riches, bathed in immeasurable glory, toured a variety of interesting places, and sampled many beautiful women. He liked his life.

At least he had.

Now he felt like a feral animal, uncontrolled and impulsive. He and the men had been unable to contain themselves at their favorite tavern earlier this evening while celebrating their most recent victory and counting their newest treasures. It was easy to forget—for a little while—what Reardon had done to them.

Until their hunger became insatiable. Their anger bubbling to the surface. Their primal urges unleashed. This was what Reardon had brought upon them.

He’d never forgive his brother. Never.

Jaemus looked around at the other men, the other wolves, then a flash of light so blinding he squeezed his eyes shut zapped down to the ground under his paws. His entire body, from muzzle to tail, buzzed with an energy he couldn’t see. When he opened his eyes again, the men were gone. Reardon was gone. Flidae was gone. The shores of Ireland were gone. He had a weightless moment where nothing was around him.

A complete, black void.

In the next instant, water raged around him and he sucked it into his lungs, choking on it. He paddled with his paws, but had no idea which way was up. The more he fought, the more the water battered his body, filled his ears, drenched his silvery fur, stung his big, golden brown eyes.

Something sharp gouged his cheek and he let out a whimper, but the water absorbed the sound. His blood mixed with the water and the iron tang of it filled his mouth. His lungs were ready to burst. His muscles strained. His vision was foggy.

Perhaps it’s time to let go.

Jaemus had been fighting for so many years. Though he’d won many battles with his brother’s army, what else did he have? He had no plans, especially now that he was an abomination of nature. He had no true home, no cozy place to rest his head. He had no woman to care for him, to love him. He had his sword, his treasures, and the restless soul of a warrior.

Maybe the time had finally come to surrender.

You do not accept defeat. Flidae’s voice vibrated through his skull as he stopped moving and let the water carry him away. You fight.

But at what cost?

Finally, the cost seemed too high. He was giving more than he was getting, and he was tired. So tired. His entire body ached from the water’s abuse, and the cut on his cheek did not like the salt water’s touch. It felt as if someone had poured liquid fire into his flesh, traded his muscles for rocks, and filled his lungs with sand.

He was done.

You are not done until I say you are, warrior wolf.

Jaemus didn’t have the energy to yell back at Flidae, nor did he want to. Nothing he could say would diminish her anger anyway. He’d only make things worse.

As if things could get worse.

He was about to drown in an ocean that was all too eager to swallow him. He had no idea where he was. He didn’t know if he’d ever see the other warriors—his friends—again. He was certain his life only had mere moments left in it.

Werewolves live longer than this. Don’t waste the time you’ve been given. Where was Flidae? Why couldn’t he see her? Why could he only hear her?

Suddenly a spray of water pushed up from underneath his body, hoisting him past the foamy surface and tossing him onto an unknown shore full of hot, white sand. He coughed out a mouthful of grit followed by a gush of salt water. Heaving until there couldn’t be anything left inside him, Jaemus tried to raise himself and realized he was no longer in wolf form. His large silver-furred paws had been replaced with rough, familiar hands that sifted through sand as he grabbed at it. Water dripped from his blond hair into his eyes, stinging them.

He wasn’t sure if he should be happy to be back to human or if that made him vulnerable. Could he shift back to wolf or had Flidae shown some mercy and taken that horrible curse away too? Closing his eyes, he pictured his wolf form and instantly turned.

Damn.

The one thing he wanted to be rid of stayed with him. He shifted back to human and sat on the sand, slicking his soaked hair back with his fingers. Hot sun overhead blazed down on his exposed flesh, and he looked over his shoulder where trees with wide leaves offered shade. Crawling on his hands and knees with what little strength he still had, Jaemus pulled himself into the shadowy relief of this strange forest. Ireland didn’t have trees like these with curvy barks that swayed in the warm breeze and large, feather-like leaves that whispered as they moved.

He propped himself up against one of the trees and touched a finger to the cut on his cheek. Wincing, his fingertip came away bloody, but he had nothing to soothe the pain.

Add it to the other scars.

Jaemus was no stranger to scars. He’d been sliced by sword blades, poked by spear tips, nearly gutted by daggers, burned, beaten, walloped within inches of his life. He’d always survived. Never doubted he’d wake to another sunrise.

Now? Well, now he wasn’t as confident that tomorrow was a guarantee. If he did live, what was his purpose? He had no army to fight with, no king to protect, no riches to count, no maiden willing to bring him physical pleasures.

His stomach growled and his survival instincts kicked in. Food. He had to locate some. Shelter. He had to make one. Water. He needed the drinkable sort. Surviving would have to be his new purpose. For now at least. Until he could figure out how to get back home to Ireland.

Standing slowly and using a nearby tree for support, Jaemus surveyed the immediate area. He gathered several fallen logs and fashioned them into a frame of sorts. His movements were slow, both his tussle with the sea and the extreme heat of this place exhausting him. Ireland was never this hot, and though he was naked, he couldn’t cool down.

He paused in his laboring and eyed the sea. He wasn’t overly eager to enter it again, but its water would relieve his discomfort. After binding a few more logs together, he walked across the near-burning sand and waded into the water. The waves had calmed quite a bit, and as he scanned along the vast expanse of the sea, its tranquility struck him.

Had Flidae purposely churned up the waters when he’d been submerged in them? Was she trying to disorient him? Thrash him? Kill him?

Jaemus shook his head. The Celtic goddess of wild things didn’t need the sea’s help. If she wanted him dead, he’d be dead. Simple as that.

For whatever reason, Flidae had spared his life, encouraged him to live, and dumped him here—wherever here was. She could have sent him to a more... populated area, but at least he had the means to survive. In gathering logs, he’d noted several types of berries growing about that appeared promising, he’d found a freshwater pond some frogs had deemed suitable, and he’d located a rock that nearly screamed out to be made into a spear tip. With a shelter, food sources, and water, he’d be fine.

But that was all he’d be. He’d be dry. Fine. He’d be fed. Fine. His thirst would be quenched. Fine.

He’d be alone. Not fine.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have any other choices. Reardon had taken all of his choices when he’d offered Jaemus a drink of that water he’d bespelled with the curse of the werewolf.

Now all Jaemus could do was exist and contain the beast residing beneath his skin.

He finished his shelter, feasted on the berries, washing them down with water, and settled down to sleep. With any luck he’d wake up and all of this would have been a dream. A sick, unbelievable dream.

But it wasn’t.

When he woke, he found the odd forest still surrounded him and his hunger had grown tenfold, as had the ache from the slash on his cheek. If he’d still been with the army, one of the men would have tended to the injury as Jaemus had tended to theirs. He remembered sewing the tip of Reardon’s ear once. He hadn’t done an impressive job, but the bleeding had stopped. Reardon’s ear had healed—more quickly than normal due to his werewolf abilities—but the tip was missing and what remained was misshapen. Still, he’d eased his brother’s pain. No one was around to do the same for Jaemus now.

Because of Reardon. He should have let his brother bleed to death. Not that he would have. His werewolf abilities would have closed the wound eventually.

Jaemus fingered the cut again, wondering why his own werewolf abilities hadn’t rid him of the wound yet. It would be his luck to have garnered all the unwanted traits of the werewolf and none of the advantageous ones. Shaking his head at his dark thoughts, he lashed the sharp-edged rock he’d picked up earlier to a long, sturdy branch and set out in search of something a little... meatier to eat. Being part wolf now made him more carnivorous and his mouth watered thinking about tearing some flesh from bone.

He thudded the heel of his hand against his forehead, trying desperately to clear the wolfish notions from his mind. Looking at the makeshift spear in his hand, however, made him stop and consider other options. Wolves were good hunters. They needed no man-made tools to catch their prey.

Setting the spear down, Jaemus shifted to wolf form and raised his nose, sniffing the warm breeze that ruffled his fur. The sun rested on the horizon and everything was cast in dim shadows, but his wolf eyes didn’t care. They saw much more than his human eyes could. A small creature scurried amongst the dense, green brush on the forest floor. Something that moved fast, but Jaemus could move faster.

He stalked the animal for a few moments, becoming familiar with its movements, its patterns, its unawareness of his presence. Coiling his body back, he sprung forward and pounced on the creature. Its small body wiggled under his large paws, but he didn’t relent. With a few squeals of horror, the critter ceased moving.

Jaemus lifted his paws and regarded the lifeless body. He’d killed men in battle. Many men. Without a guilty thought. Without remorse. Without questioning his life. This defenseless creature, however, that he’d sacrificed so easily, caused a wave of regret to crest and crash over him. He backed up several steps, attempting to put distance between himself and the bloody meal he’d garnered for himself. He didn’t want to want it.

His stomach growled again. Louder this time. Like a rumble of thunder. He had no choice but to dine on the kill. Better to devour it than to waste the life he’d taken. In human form, he’d never felt so connected to what they’d hunted, cooked over a roaring fire, and eaten. Why was it different now? Why did he feel as if he’d cut a strand in the spider web of life and the web’s integrity had been compromised?

Animals ate other animals. Cycle of life. Food chain. All natural.

And yet... he felt like a betrayer.

You are not like a regular wolf. Flidae’s voice cut through the growing darkness. You are part man, part wolf. Both. And neither. What you feel is a reflection of that.

What he felt was due to his brother’s selfishness.

Growling, Jaemus shifted back to human form and grabbed the slain animal by the hind legs. It appeared to be some form of rabbit and fat enough to fill his belly for tonight. He pushed aside any kinship he felt to the creature and set about building a cook fire. He rubbed sticks together as he had in Ireland until a spark ignited the dried grass he’d collected. After roasting the meat, he ate greedily until his stomach no longer protested and sleep overtook him once again.

Jaemus did the same thing for weeks. Slept, explored, ate. He did not make contact with any other humans. There were none. He did not hold out hope of leaving this place. No way of escape existed. He practiced fighting imaginary demons with the spear he’d made to keep his body in good shape, but each day that crawled by made him wonder if he shouldn’t lie down in the sand and let himself wither to nothing under the beaming sun.

This was not a life.

This was punishment and nothing more. Punishment for what Reardon had done. Punishment Jaemus did not deserve. If he ever saw his brother again, he’d... he’d... Gods, he couldn’t even come up with a revenge plan harsh enough.

He lowered to the sand as he’d done almost every day since being exiled and rested his elbows on his knees, his head in his hands, his fingers raking through his chin-length blond hair.  He scratched at his beard that would soon be unruly—except for the spot where he’d been gouged by the sea and no hair had grown after the wound had closed. As the gentle waves rolled along the pristine shore, a flash of light cracked open the sky as it had back in Ireland all those weeks ago.

When his eyes adjusted, Jaemus found himself away from the sand and sea and in a very different forest.

****

The silver and turquoise bangles on Nika Skarvinski’s slender wrist jingled as she dusted the bookshelves lining the back wall of Maple Ridge Trading Post, a shop her tato, her father, Cezar Skarvinski, had left her in the tree-covered mountains of Canville, Vermont. She loved the shop. She did. Honest.

But sometimes...

“Oh, Tato, why couldn’t you have died a billionaire, huh?” She blew a strand of her curly chestnut hair out of her face then sneezed over the cloud of dust she’d churned up. “Would have been so nice to not have to worry about money. To kick up my feet, maybe travel, spends oodles of time making jewelry or something else relaxing.”

Instead, Nika was neck deep in debt and barely scraping by on the meager profits of the trading post. When she was a child, Maple Ridge Trading Post was a booming business during the spring, all summer long, and well into the fall, always full of tourists from all over the country. She’d always enjoyed running about the aisles, meeting new people and learning their stories as she helped Tato work. Her father always had a smile for his customers and everyone who talked to him instantly liked him.

“Damn, I miss you, Tato.”

Nika’s father had been dead for several years, but she felt his presence in that shop. He hadn’t left yet. She was sure of it. He couldn’t let go for some reason, and she had an inkling it was because of her.

“I’m okay. Really.” But she didn’t believe it. Certainly, her father who’d passed to that in-between place didn’t believe it either. “I will be okay. I promise.”

“You’re not going to be okay if you keep talking to empty shops.” Carrie Pine, one of the seventeen-year old employees at Maple Ridge meandered down the center aisle and stopped next to Nika. She pulled her long blonde hair onto one shoulder and surveyed the bookshelves with narrowed blue eyes. She pointed to the upper right corner of the shelves. “You missed a spot.”

Nika squinted at the space Carrie had indicated, and sure enough, a dusty cobweb bounced in the cool breeze coming from the air conditioning vent. She pushed the feather duster into Carrie’s stomach, a small cloud of dust leaving a gray spot on the teenager’s green Maple Ridge T-shirt. “Be a pal and get that for me, will you?”

Carrie closed her fingers around the duster and frowned. “This is what I get for pointing out your inadequacies.”

“Exactly.” Nika fluffed the folds of her long, flowered skirt and brushed a smear of dust off her turquoise tank top. “Where’s Zavier?”

Carrie shrugged as she took care of the rogue cobweb. “Haven’t seen him yet. I just got here.”

Zavier Russo was Nika’s other seventeen-year-old employee. He and Carrie attended Canville High together and had answered the trading post’s help wanted ad on the same day two years ago. They were both so adorable when they interviewed, each of them stunned by the other’s presence and awkward as they stole shy glances at one another. Nika had offered them both a job—not able to afford paying them much, but convincing them the work experience would look good on college applications. They worked opposite shifts, but there was usually a thirty-minute overlap Nika enjoyed watching.

Maybe someday—someday soon—those two would admit they were made for each other and finally go on a date. For now, they appeared to be content pretending to not be interested in one another while flirting every chance they got.

Nika missed those carefree high school days when the biggest problem she faced was which cute boy to flirt with during Algebra class. If she’d known those four years were to be her dating peak, she would have spent more time enjoying herself. Someone should have taken her aside and explained how it would be once she got out into the “real world.”

Listen, Nika. Have fun now. Dance with every boy you can. Enjoy the chase. Let your heart beat excitedly. Kiss and be kissed. A lot. Once you grow up, things will different. You won’t have time for dancing, chasing, kissing. You’ll be too busy trying to survive.

Nika doubted she would have listened to anyone who had taken her aside and told her any of this. When you’re a teenager, everything seems possible. When you’re a grownup—one whose trading post isn’t making any money—everything seems like a giant noose around your neck. One misstep off the rickety wooden stool beneath your feet and crack. Neck broken. Last breath. Life over.

“Wow.” Carrie stared at her, twirling the feather duster so the hot pink feathers fluffed out then settled, fluffed, settled, fluffed, settled.

Nika was nearly hypnotized by the movement then she shook her head and looked at Carrie. “Wow what?”

“That was one powerful sigh you unleashed, Boss.” Carrie angled her head as she chewed on her bottom lip. “Things aren’t getting better around here, are they?”

Nika arced a hand out to the empty shop behind them. “I think the tumbleweed blowing in the aisles answers that question, don’t you?” Her voice was harsher than she’d meant it to be. It wasn’t Carrie’s fault business sucked. “I’m sorry, Carrie. I’m in a mood.”

Carrie set the feather duster down on a beautiful log table, handmade by a local Native American craftsman. The shop had a few of his pieces, but hardly anyone came in to appreciate—and buy—such solidly constructed and artistic furniture. “You know what cures bad moods, don’t you?”

“I do, but you don’t have to.” Nika smiled as Carrie ran off to a corner of the trading post. “Carrie, seriously.”

“You know you’ll feel better!” Carrie called.

By the time Carrie came back with a puppet on each hand, Nika couldn’t deny she needed this.

“Which one do you want to be?” Carrie wiggled Red Riding Hood on her left hand and Big Bad Wolf on her right.

Nika reached forward and plucked the wolf off Carrie’s hand. “You know I’m always the wolf.” The trading post held a show once a day that did in fact draw in a small group. It was an alternate Little Red Riding Hood story in which Wolfman terrorizes not only Red, but the audience too. Somewhere between scary and cheesy, the show pleased onlookers and brought in enough money to stay open.

For the next three months anyway... maybe.

Jared Greene who played Wolfman was awesome. The right amount of grizzly and growly to make audiences squeal and laugh, Jared was Nika’s only money maker right now. She needed him and the other two actors who played Red and Huntsman in the show, though those two weren’t what attracted viewers. The sales she had on show tickets and puppets resembling characters in the show kept her head above water.

Barely.

“I hold out hope that one day you’ll let me be the wolf,” Carrie said.

“Keep dreaming, kid.”

Carrie laughed, then relaxing her facial expression, she moved the Red Riding Hood puppet and said, “Why, I do declare, Mr. Big Bad Wolf, you are lookin’ fine this afternoon.”

For some reason Red had a southern accent this time, and Nika barked out a laugh. This was what made this so fun. She never knew what accent Carrie would pull out. The kid was a master at so many.

“So we’re going deep south today, are we?” Nika shoved her hand into the wolf puppet and smoothed the gray fur between its ears.

“Appears so, Miss Nika.” Carrie made the Red Riding Hood puppet grab its long brown braid and roll it between its hands as if preening.

Nodding, Nika cleared her throat and made the wolf puppet raise its furry head as if sniffing the air. “Somethin’ smells powerful good ’round here.” Her voice was deep and heavy with southern drawl. She had to fight not to laugh. “Right good enough to eat I’d say.”

“That’s no way to be speakin’ to a lady, Mr. Big Bad Wolf.” Red’s puppet arms stretched out to her sides in exasperation.

“Ain’t seen no ladies here. Just meals.” Nika opened the jaws of the wolf puppet, her finger manipulating the long, pink tongue so it licked the puppet’s lips.

Carrie opened her mouth and bobbled Red’s hooded head, but a voice interrupted her puppet’s next lines.

“Meals? Did someone say meals? I’m hungry. I’m always hungry.”

Nika and Carrie turned around to find the Huntsman puppet sitting atop a display of hand-carved boxes painted to depict local natural settings. Zavier’s face was visible from the other side of the aisle, a grin stretching across his face as he stared pointedly at Carrie.

Hungry. That boy was more than hungry for Carrie. Nika could see it in his green eyes.

“It’s a southern accent today, Zavier.” Carrie’s hands went to her hips, taking Red Riding Hood with her. The puppet’s head was smooshed against her side and Zavier’s eyes tracked the movement to her hips. “If you’re not going to do the right accent, you can’t play.”

She took the wolf puppet from Nika, slipped it on her free hand, and closed its jaws over the Huntsman puppet’s head, ripping it down from the boxes.

Zavier made a muffled screaming noise that made Nika chuckle, but Carrie ignored him and walked away with all three puppets.

“She mad at you today?” Nika asked.

Carrie had quite a bit of sass—which Nika loved about her—but she usually wasn’t so bitchy to Zavier. Most of the time she was watching him—not so secretly—with a dreamy, faraway look in her blue eyes. She definitely wasn’t doing dreamy today.

The boy shrugged one shoulder and straightened the boxes the Huntsman puppet had been perched on. “It’s possible Carrie may have seen me with Amanda Tiller last night.”

Nika winced. Rivalry. “I see.”

“Now you’re going to be mad at me too?” Zavier dropped his forehead to the boxes and rocked his head from side to side.

Nika stepped close enough that she could pat the crown of Zavier’s head. “I’m not mad at you, honey, but when are you and Carrie going to admit you like each other? I mean, you’ve been working here all this time together, you go to school together, you hang out... I don’t get it.”

“It’s complicated.” The boy let out a low groan as if his very soul hurt. So dramatic.

“Things with teenagers usually are complicated.” Nika gave Zavier’s head a gentle slap. “What’s Amanda Tiller have that Carrie doesn’t?”

“Amanda has a father who thinks I’m good enough for her.”

Hmm. “Carrie’s dad doesn’t like you?” This was news to Nika. She knew Carrie’s father. Strict, military type, but he’d always been cordial to Nika. Was it possible he was ultra-particular about who his little girl fell for? Nika smiled thinking of Tato. He always disapproved of her boyfriends when she was a teenager, but he had the good sense to keep mum about it.

Zavier picked his head up off the boxes and shook it. “I don’t even know why her father doesn’t like me. He gives me this steely-eyed glare and a frown every time I’m in his presence. You know he’s Special Forces, right? A sniper.” Zavier swallowed loudly.

“Have you talked to Carrie about this?”

“Talked to her about it? Shit no. But she knows he doesn’t like me.”

“Okay then.” Nika puffed out a breath, deciding Zavier was right. It was complicated. And none of her business. She had enough to worry about without getting involved in the love lives of young adults.

“I’m leaving!” Carrie called from the front door of the trading post. “See you tomorrow, Nika.”

“Bye, sweetie.” Nika gave Zavier a quick glance. The boy hadn’t moved from where he stood in the aisle. “She didn’t say bye to you.”

“Because I’m an asshole.”

“You are not.”

“Carrie thinks so.”

“Then change her mind, Huntsman.”

Nika walked to the small office at the rear of the trading post and sat at her desk, confident Zavier would handle the non-existent hordes of customers. She leaned back in her chair. Why was it so obvious to her what Zavier and Carrie had to do to be together, but when it came to herself and relationships, she didn’t have a goddamn clue?

Probably because I haven’t had a goddamn prospect in ages.

There were dating dry spells. And then there was whatever Nika was going through. A dating famine, perhaps. One of epic proportions. Of course, in order to date, a person had to actually have some free time. And some money. Nika certainly didn’t have any extra time hanging about and as for money, that well would soon be dry too.

She folded her arms on top of her desk—Tato’s desk actually—and rested her head atop them. If she squeezed her eyes closed, she could imagine away the stacks of bills littering the desktop. If she never opened her eyes, maybe she could imagine a completely different life.

One where Maple Ridge Trading Post was a tourist hot spot again.

One where Tato was still alive and giving out smiles to every customer he met.

One where she had a fabulously sexy man to come home to every night who would make love to her as if it were his sole purpose in life.

A sharp knock sounded on the office door followed by, “Nika. You can’t keep ignoring me.”

One where Robert Senclair didn’t want to turn Maple Ridge Trading Post into a foolish Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop.

“I’m pretty sure I can keep ignoring you, Robert.” She would not be opening the door for him. She didn’t have that brand of patience in stock today.

“At what cost, Nika? I just walked through the trading post and the only person I ran across was your employee. Your employee who is currently sitting at the register reading The Canterbury Tales, for Christ’s sake.”

“He’s adding a little literary culture to our atmosphere at Maple Ridge Trading Post. Zavier is all part of my genius marketing plan to draw in sophisticated, big-spending clientele.”

“Bullshit.”

Nothing grated on Nika’s nerves like Robert Senclair’s voice. She’d known him since elementary school. He’d been a jerk in Kindergarten when he’d destroyed her finger-painted masterpiece—one she’d planned to give Tato for his birthday—and hadn’t changed.

Well, maybe he’d gotten taller and his hair had thinned, but other than that he was the same asswaffle at thirty-five years old that he was at six.

“I’m busy, Robert,” she called. “I’ve got to meet with Jared about some Wolfman costume modifications. I’ve got—”

“No, you don’t,” Robert interrupted.

“No, I don’t what? Have a meeting? Yes, I do. And who do you think—”

“Jared is in jail.”

The four words punched her in the face. Not enough to knock her out though.

Unfortunately.

Chapter Two

Jaemus grabbed a handful of soil in this new forest surrounding him. Night still reigned, but the sounds were all different from where he’d been. Cricket song replaced the twitterings of the brightly colored birds of the tropical isle he’d been surviving on for the past few weeks. Tall pines and maples ruled the land instead of the odd, feather-leafed trees that rustled in the hot breezes. The cooler air here was scented with damp dirt and wildflowers.

Where am I now?

And what was Flidae up to? Why had she moved him? Had he been surviving too well on that island? Was he not being sufficiently punished in the goddess’s mind? He didn’t love that island, but he’d had enough time there to figure it out and stay alive.

Now he was back to the beginning in an unknown place with unknown resources and unknown dangers. Would she keep switching his location as further punishment?

And, by the gods, why am I bleeding?

He touched the scratches on his bare arms and legs then squinted up. Several branches on the nearby trees had been snapped. Perhaps broken when his body had screamed from the sky and landed on the moist forest floor. He turned to sit and brushed dirt off his knees which, due to his nakedness, were also gouged and bleeding.

At least he’d learned on the island that he did have the healing abilities of a werewolf. He just hadn’t been patient that first night. The cut he’d received on his cheek while the sea had battered him had healed. He ran a finger over the area now, feeling the scar that would forever cut through any beard he grew. He had no idea how bad it looked, but what did it matter anyway? He wasn’t trying to impress anyone.

Well, except Flidae maybe so she’d release him from this punishment.

What you look like will not release you, warrior wolf.

He was beginning to hate these conversations. Especially when she called him a wolf. Gods be damned, he was a man first.

But you are not only a man now.

As if he needed the reminder.

Voices floated to his ears in the darkness. Two voices. A man’s and a woman’s. At first Jaemus thought they were the voices of more gods or goddesses, but no, these voices were not inside his head.

Praise be! There were people here. Jaemus had to make contact with these people. Implore them for some help. Beg if he had to. His pride had been taken the moment Reardon turned him into an animal. He had nothing left to lose.

Slowly, Jaemus got to his feet and walked toward a light that shone on a building nearby. As he approached, the people’s voices got louder.

“You know the best way to celebrate freedom on the Fourth of July?” the woman asked.

The man didn’t reply verbally, but Jaemus was close enough now to see the man shake his head as he held the woman close. So close. Jaemus hadn’t held a woman that close in too long. Possibly he’d never held a woman that close and meant it the way that man did.

“Exercising your right to kiss me all over and make love to me until the sun comes up.”

The man threw his head back and laughed. “I think I like this American holiday, my fairy lass.”

Jaemus stilled at the fringe of the forest. He knew that voice. He took a shaky step back, but the crunching of twigs and leaves beneath his bare feet made the man and woman turn to look in his direction.

“Probably one of the wolves,” the woman said. She was breathtaking with long red hair and blue eyes Jaemus could clearly see with his enhanced wolf vision.

The man started for the forest, so Jaemus stepped out first. “Reardon.” He took another step, but got tangled in the brush at his feet and tripped. He fell to all fours, cursing how weak he felt, how submissive he looked, basically kneeling before Reardon. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

“Jaemus?”

“Your brother?” the woman asked as she stood behind Reardon.

“Aye. It’s him.” Reardon straightened and scanned the area.

“She’s not here,” Jaemus croaked out. His throat was impossibly dry all of a sudden.

“But she sent you.” Smiling, Reardon reached out a hand to Jaemus. “Come inside, brother.”

Jaemus stared at Reardon’s outstretched hand. Part of him wanted to take it. Part of him wished for his older brother to care for and protect him as he had for most of Jaemus’s life.

Another part, however, wished for a blade to slice that offered hand right off the arm of the betrayer.

“You can have all the time you want to hate me, Jaemus,” Reardon said, his hand still outstretched, “but right now, you’re in tough shape, brother. This fairy lass beside me can fix you up, can’t you, Brandy?”

“Of course.” The woman smiled at him now, and Jaemus rather liked her smile.

He took Reardon’s hand and allowed his brother to pull him to his feet while the woman—Brandy—scooted under his left arm and Reardon supported under his right one. Slowly, the three of them made their way past the house to another building.

“What is this place?” Jaemus asked, hesitating. He didn’t know anything about this woman, and what he knew of his brother didn’t exactly encourage his trust.

“Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary,” Brandy said. “I’m a wildlife biologist. I help injured wolves.” The way she said wolves and looked him directly in the eyes told Jaemus she knew what he and his brother were.

In fact...

Jaemus leaned closer to Brandy and inhaled deeply. She smelled... familiar.

“Yeah,” she said, sliding out from under his arm to open the door to the building in front of them. “I’m like you.”

Jaemus immediately shot his gaze to Reardon. “You turned her? You didn’t learn your lesson?”

“Oh, I learned it all right, but this is different.” Reardon glanced at Brandy and Jaemus could smell the arousal coming off both of them. It nearly overwhelmed him.

“I wanted him to turn me.” Brandy motioned them inside and Reardon guided him through the door to a large silver table.

“And Flidae let you?” Jaemus regarded Reardon. He found it hard to believe the goddess would allow such a thing. She’d been furious enough to scatter the men as punishment so why would turning this woman not further enrage her?

“She’s my soul mate.” Reardon slid an arm around Brandy and pulled her up against his side. He pressed his lips to her temple, nuzzling her hair with his nose.

Brandy closed her eyes and let out a rumbling growl that came from deep in her throat. There was no doubt that what they’d said was true. Soul mates. The scent in the air was more than enough proof of their bond.

“Even in punishment, you win, don’t you, Reardon?” Jaemus’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding against each other.

“I fought for this win, brother, just like all our other victories.” Reardon folded his arms across his broad chest as if he were gearing up for a fight.

If only I had the strength. But Jaemus didn’t. The cuts all over his body stung, his muscles ached, his head pounded, and he was powerfully hungry.

“There’s a shower through there.” Brandy pointed to a narrow hallway. “Why don’t you clean up, Jaemus, and then I’ll see to these cuts, okay?”

“The cuts will heal,” he said, not tearing his gaze off his brother and silently challenging him to be the first to look away.

“True, but I can make it happen faster and less likely to scar with a little science,” Brandy said.

When Jaemus finally focused on Brandy, he asked, “What’s a shower?”

“Oh, umm... right.” She turned to face Reardon. “How did you know what a shower was when you first came here?”

“I spent enough time here as a wolf to see Parker use this one in the clinic.”

“I see. Amazing what you can learn just by watching.” Brandy chewed on her bottom lip as if she were studying Jaemus.

He didn’t like that. He wasn’t some menagerie oddity. Some strange and exotic beast.

I’m a man.

Flidae’s chuckle echoed in his skull. You’re more than a man.

And gods be damned, he didn’t want to be.

“Reardon, show him how the shower works while I prep out here.” She gave Reardon a little shove toward the hallway.

Jaemus found some amusement in watching this slender woman command his hulking brother. If that was what finding one’s soul mate meant, he was content to never find his. He once listened to the orders of his brother and that blind allegiance hadn’t rewarded him in the end. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. With anyone.

Still, if a shower meant getting clean, he was definitely interested. He’d bathed on the island in the sea, but he had never been quite rid of the grit. His wolf nose smelled his own stench as well, so he followed Reardon.

After sticking his hand behind a curtain, Reardon made water rain down from a silver spout stuck in the wall. Steam curled up from the spray.

“It’s hot?” Jaemus stepped closer.

“One of many conveniences this time and place has.” Reardon rested his hand on Jaemus’s shoulder, but Jaemus shrugged it off. His brother put his hands up in surrender and took a step back. “Towels are here.” He pointed to a stack of fluffy, folded pieces of fabric then left the room.

Jaemus stepped into the big white basin that caught the water and let out a groan when the liquid heat hit his skin. He stuck his head under the spray, dirt and blood immediately collecting at his feet. It mixed with the water then swirled down a grate in the basin. He had no idea where it was all going, but getting it off him felt wonderful.

A green bar sat on a small shelf and he picked it up. Finding it slick but pleasing in fragrance, Jaemus rubbed it along his flesh until suds built up and removed the grime covering him. As a warrior, he’d spent a great deal of time dirty, bloody, and sweaty, but they’d always found somewhere to bathe. His time on the island had been the longest he’d gone without a proper rinsing, and he’d forgotten how wonderful it was to be clean.

He washed his hair and spent a few moments letting the heat of the water—how did they get it hot like this?—massage his aching body. When his fingers wrinkled, he turned a knob on the wall and the water ceased to spray. Amazing.

After stepping out of the basin, he grabbed a towel and dried himself. He wrapped the towel around his waist and secured it, preparing to go back out to the larger room because he didn’t have any other course of action at the moment.

Jaemus made for the closed door, but something moving caught his attention on the wall. He backed up and realized his reflection stared back at him. He’d definitely seen better days. His hair was now clean but in complete disarray and a scraggly beard covered his lower face. His eyes were less golden brown and more bloodshot and that scar on his cheek was deeper than he’d envisioned.

He looked feral.

Flidae was right. He wasn’t only a man anymore. He was a wild animal too. Maybe more wild animal than man.

A soft knock on the door made him flinch.

“Jaemus.” Brandy’s voice. A quiet, kind voice. “Are you decent?”

Decent? Probably never again.

He reached over and opened the door to her smiling face. Gods, she was beautiful. Figures Reardon would find her. Lucky bastard.

“Well, clean looks good on you.” She pointed to his hair then his beard, circling her index finger around his head. “You want some help with all that? I’ve been known to do a damn fine job shaving wolf fur when necessary.”

He nodded, and she stepped farther into the small room. After rummaging around in a compartment under another white basin below where he’d seen his reflection, she held up a few tools and motioned for him to follow her out to the larger room. She patted a chair she’d pulled away from a table.

“Have a seat and let’s see what we can do here,” she said.

“Where’s Reardon?” Not that he wanted to see him. He most certainly didn’t care where his brother had gone. He just felt the need to keep track of Reardon’s whereabouts in case his brother intended to betray him again.

“He’s in the house with my son, Dylan. We were all at a Fourth of July event and my mom brought him back.”

“You trust my brother around your boy and your mother? That seems unwise.” Jaemus sat in the chair Brandy had offered and folded his arms across his chest.

“I trust Reardon with my life.” Brandy came to stand in front of him, and the truth of her words shined in her eyes. “He’s saved me on too many levels to count. I know what he did to you and some of the other men in your army. Believe me, Jaemus, he’s sorry. He carries that regret around like a sack full of boulders on his back. He’ll never forgive himself, but maybe you can forgive him. I mean, being a wolf rocks.”

He looked up at her face, her blue eyes glowing as her canine teeth elongated.

“You truly enjoy what he’s made you? How?”

Brandy’s eyes went back to their normal blue and her teeth shortened again. “Because being a wolf allows me to be closer to him and my wolves here at the sanctuary. I can care for everyone better. I can love Reardon better.”

Jaemus had trouble believing what she’d said, but the way she gave his bare shoulder a little squeeze told him she knew his inner struggle.

“Hopefully, someday you’ll know what I mean.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Let’s take care of these cuts first. They’ll heal on their own shortly, but cleaning them out makes them heal faster. Then we’ll make you pretty.”

As she tended to him, she told him how Reardon had shown up at her sanctuary as an injured wolf. How she and her son came to love him in wolf form. How Reardon, in human form, had saved her and her son from being smashed by an out-of-control car in town. How Flidae possessed a friend of hers, kidnapped Dylan, then took Reardon from them. How she traveled to Ireland of the past and won Reardon back along with Flidae’s blessing to be turned into a wolf.

How she planned to spend the rest of her life loving Reardon.

“We’re getting married in October. I hope you and Reardon can reconcile so he’ll have family at the wedding too. He’s missed you, Jaemus.” She pulled off a towel she’d draped on his shoulders while cutting his hair and shook it so blond strands fell to the floor. “I’m going to sweep this up. Why don’t you take these,” she handed him a stack of clothes, “and go back in the bathroom. Change up. Check yourself out. I think I did a pretty good job on you.”

She grinned and Jaemus decided even if he hated Reardon, he liked this woman who had chosen—recklessly—to love his brother.

He took the clothes and went into the bathroom. After pulling on a pair of stiff, dark blue pants and a soft, short-sleeved, green tunic, he sat on an odd seat made out of the same white material as the water basins and stuffed his feet into black boots that were a little big. All of the items probably belonged to Reardon, and Jaemus didn’t enjoy being encased in the trimmings of a traitor, but he had no other choice right now.

His reflection caught his attention again and his mouth dropped open. Brandy had cut his hair to a length that rested at chin level. She’d combed it into a sense of order and trimmed his beard so it neatly framed his mouth and jaw. He looked several shades more civilized thanks to her work. The scar on his cheek didn’t look as bad as it had before either, though it did cut into his beard, causing a line of no hair. Still, he was much improved and didn’t feel so wild anymore.

After inspecting the cleaned cuts and deeming them well attended to, he emerged from the bathroom to find Brandy still in the larger room. She had a broom in her hand, but rested it against a wall when she saw him.

“Does everything meet your approval?” she asked.

“Aye, thank you, Brandy.” He bowed his head slightly in gratitude.

“No problem.” The way she regarded him told Jaemus she had more to say.

“Out with it.”

“Oh, well... I was thinking that aside from being big and giving off that badass vibe, you don’t look like Reardon’s brother.”

Good. “We don’t share a father. Just a mother.”

“Right. He got the werewolf father.”

“And yet, I’ve suffered the same fate, haven’t I?”

“You can choose to see it as suffering or as an opportunity.” Brandy motioned for him to follow her.

Opportunity? Hardly. Love had blinded this woman. Jaemus hoped she didn’t get hurt by Reardon’s selfish ways. Once a ruthless warrior willing to sacrifice his men—his own brother—always a ruthless warrior.

She led him to a house made from fat logs. Lights glowed inside, giving off a warm, welcoming aura Jaemus didn’t want to be drawn to, but he was. For weeks, his shelter had been a loose collection of branches and ferns. This log home was a substantial improvement.

Before she opened the front door, she turned to Jaemus. “I know your last memory of Reardon is how he turned you and the other men, but he’s truly sorry, Jaemus. Truly. For whatever reason, Flidae has dumped you here. Take it as a gift and make amends.” She swallowed loudly, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I had a twin sister. She passed away and I’d give anything for another shot at talking to her, hearing her laugh, hugging her. Don’t throw this away.” She swiped at her eyes and sniffed before leading him inside.

Jaemus hesitated on the front step for a few moments. Brandy didn’t know what she was asking him to do. To forgive his brother for turning him into a werewolf. How could he forgive that?

How?

****

“How do you know Jared got arrested?” Nika opened her office door and reluctantly let Robert enter.

“I saw it happen with my own two eyes. I was across the street at the bank and watched two cops escort your Wolfman star into the police station.”

“That doesn’t mean he was arrested.” Please, God, don’t make that mean he was arrested. Jared was literally the best Wolfman the trading post had ever had. Without him, they would be bringing in no money at all. This can’t be happening.

“After I wrapped up my business at the bank, I went to the police station and confirmed that Jared Greene was arrested for making meth in his basement.” Robert had that damn smug look on his face and it took all of Nika’s control not to slug him. Hard.

“Meth?”

“The drug.”

“I know what meth is, you fool. I just don’t believe Jared was making it.” The Jared she knew was a pleasant guy, full of life, funny, always on time for work. Strangely unaffected by the stress of day-to-day living. Oddly at ease in all situations.

Shit. The guy was making meth.

“Think about it, Nika. The man is willing to put on a Wolfman costume and run about like a raving lunatic. Normal people don’t want to do that. People on meth do.” Robert sat on the little couch she had in the office.

For the record, Nika hated having Robert on that couch. Or anywhere near her for that matter. She actually preferred the company of a meth manufacturer over that of the greasy Robert Senclair.

And the fact that he’d been the one to discover Jared’s arrest just about made her frigging day.

With a sigh, she sat at her desk, fully intending to ignore Robert’s presence and hoping he’d leave. But when did things ever go her way?

“Without your Wolfman show, this trading post is toast, Nika.” He got up and sat at the chair on the other side of her desk, making it impossible for her not to notice the way his thinning brown hair looked too controlled. The way his brown eyes resembled the beady, sneaky eyes of a large rodent. The way his suit bulged in all the wrong places around his chubby middle.

“I’ll hire a new Wolfman.” She squared her shoulders. Surely other men were willing to play a half-man, half-wolf role in a silly tourist show. For minimum wage.

Yeah, right, that voice inside her head said. The one she couldn’t turn off no matter how hard she tried. Face it, you’re fucked. And totally not the way she wanted to be.

“Why don’t you give in?” Robert leaned forward. His teeth were yellow. She’d never noticed that before. Why was she noticing today? Because she was thinking about admitting defeat? Because she was out of options?

Because her life sucked ass?

“I’ll give you a job at Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop. Manager. Good pay. Steady pay. Although...” He reached across the desk to take her hand, but she quickly moved it to her lap and he pulled his hand back to his side of the desk. “If you would agree to be with me, Nika, you wouldn’t have to work at all. I have a lot of money. You wouldn’t have to want for anything. I’d give you everything.”

Yeah, everything I never wanted.

“I’ll figure this out without your help, Robert.” Of course he wasn’t actually trying to help her. Instead he was adding to her existing, mountain-sized pile of problems. She stood and went to the office door, hoping he’d follow her. “Actually, if you want to help, there is one thing you can do.”

He stood and joined her by the door. Once again, he stood too close. “Name it.”

“Leave.” She opened the door and gestured for him to walk out.

Robert made a frustrated noise and sifted out a slow breath. One that smelled like hours-old coffee.

“You can’t hang on for much longer. I’ll be waiting.” He brushed past her, taking the opportunity to let his arm skim across her breasts.

Now I have to burn this tank top.

Zavier looked up from his perch at the register, his green eyes hawking Robert as he left the trading post. The teen’s gaze immediately flicked to the office where Nika rolled her eyes from her doorway.

“You okay, Boss?” he called.

“Never better.”

“Liar.”

“A big, fat one.” Nika made her way to the register. Not a single customer wandered the shop. What am I going to do? “Did you hear anything about Jared?”

“Hear? Jared? Uhh...” Suddenly Zavier opened his Canterbury Tales book and pretended to look real scholarly.

“Zavier.” Nika pulled his book down to the counter and put her hand over the pages. “Zavier, look at me.”

He tugged on his book, but she had a good grip on it. “Do I have to?” He stared at the book, not meeting her gaze.

“Yes.” She reached across the counter and lifted Zavier’s head with a finger under his chin. “What do you know about Jared?”

“Just that half the senior class gets their meth from him.”

“It’s true?” Letting go of Zavier’s book, Nika swiveled and sunk to the floor, her back sliding against the counter. She dropped her head to her knees, barely avoiding a full-blown panic attack. Her Wolfman was a drug manufacturer and dealer. Her trading post was going under. She would end up managing a Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop.

Or worse. She’d end up being Mrs. Robert Senclair.

“Aww, hell no.” She needed time to think. “Let’s close now, Zavier.”

“But it’s not closing time yet.” He pointed to the clock hanging on the wall behind the register.

“Honey, we’re the only two in here. Everyone else is down at the new shopping plaza.” One owned by Robert Senclair. “They’re all spending their money on overpriced junk.”

“What are you going to do about Jared?” Zavier stuffed his book into his backpack. Even in the summer, the kid was busy with academic stuff. He wouldn’t end up owning an unsuccessful shop in the middle of Canville, Vermont. He’d make something of himself. Carrie often busted his balls about how into school he was, but Nika could tell the girl was actually impressed with Zavier’s intellect.

Now if only I could attract someone with some intellect. And killer abs. That wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? Intellect and abs. Small requests really.

But those requests would have to wait because she needed to focus her energy on replacing Jared and quick or she’d lose more money. Money she couldn’t afford to lose.

After saying goodbye to Zavier, Nika walked on the little trail that led to the barn behind the trading post. Tato had built that barn with his own two hands when he’d first come to America from Poland. He’d made friends with some local Native Americans who helped him, and together they built the trading post when the barn was done. The post sold Native American wares to start, but her father slowly added other vendors and made the place a booming tourist spot for every blue-collar dad who couldn’t afford to take his family to Disney World.

The Wolfman Show had always been their most famous attraction though. Even in the early years, people loved the alternative Red Riding Hood skit. The audience got a kick out of participating, saying the lines, My what big teeth you have, along with the actors and screaming when Wolfman ran wild in the crowd, pretending to look for a snack while the Huntsman took aim.

It was a silly show. Nika wasn’t sure what was so magical about it, but it was the only thing keeping the post afloat right now. If she couldn’t replace Jared, and fast, she’d have no choice but to sell the post to Robert. She’d have to move out of the loft apartment in the barn—the barn that made her feel close to Tato even though he was gone.

She unlocked the small side door on the barn and climbed the narrow staircase up to the loft apartment. The smell of old wood always comforted her, but it wasn’t doing the job tonight. Her mind was too heavy to be consoled by memories. Tonight the odor in the barn made her think of rotting, decrepit things. Dead things. Things that needed attention and repair and money.

Barking from the other side of the apartment door made her smile. Daisy, her chocolate Labrador Retriever, had a way of loosening the tension in Nika’s shoulders no matter what.

A massage by someone with intellect and abs would do the trick too. The chances of that waiting for her on the other side of the door, however, were zero.

When she opened the door, Daisy was right there, her tail wagging like a helicopter blade stuck to her ass. Her tongue flopped out of her mouth and her front paws danced on the wide-planked floor.

“Hey, Daisy-girl. Who’s Mama’s baby? Are you Mama’s baby?” Nika dropped to her knees and let the dog christen her face with slobbery kisses. “Oh, I love you too. Yes, I do.” She took a floppy ear in each hand and rubbed until Daisy was a melted pile of chocolate-colored fur at her knees.

When the excitement over her arrival at home died away, Nika and Daisy went into the kitchen where Nika filled the dog’s food and water bowls.

“That takes care of you.” She opened her refrigerator which was full of... pretty much nothing. “Yogurt and American cheese. Ah, food of the gods, Daisy.” She eyed the dog’s kibble. “Don’t suppose you’re willing to share your dinner, are you, girl?” God, she was actually considering eating dog food. What the hell?

She rustled up some stale crackers from a cupboard and poured herself a tall glass of tap water. Sighing often, she ate at the small kitchen table—also made by Tato—trying to convince herself she was eating a loaded pizza and French fries from Rosie’s Diner instead. Washing it all down with a margarita and chocolate cake for dessert.

“What am I going to do, Daisy?”

At her name, the dog came over and rested her head in Nika’s lap. Nika stared into Daisy’s big golden eyes and wished the pooch would tell her she’d buried a bazillion dollars in the back yard.

“Show me, girl. Let’s go dig it up.”

Daisy raced off and brought back a neon green, stuffed alligator that squeaked in her jaws. Her tail wagged in hopes of a play session.

“That alligator won’t save us, Daisy.” But she cleaned up her dinner—if she could call it that—and played Find It with Daisy until the dog threw the alligator onto her doggie bed and sat on top of it.

On her way to the bathroom to take a shower, Nika pressed the play button on her answering machine.

“Hey, Nika,” Jared’s voice called out. “I, uhh, won’t be in to work tomorrow... or like, the next day... or probably the day after that. I, umm, ran into a little trouble. Okay, maybe it’s a lot of trouble. I’m so sorry. You were the best boss I ever had. I mean that.”

Nika stared at the machine. He was guilty, and no amount of begging Sheriff Olsen would get the cop to release her Wolfman. Tomorrow she’d go into work, type up a help wanted ad, and if the Universe decided—for once in her life—to cut her a damn break, she’d have a new Wolfman by the end of the day. Yes, she was asking for a miracle, but she was out of practical options. Miracles were all she had left.

Still grumbling to herself, she cut through the cozy living room full of gorgeous wood furniture her father had made and lots of Native American art. How much would those treasured pieces fetch if she were to sell them? She hated that she’d even considered that notion.

She navigated down the hallway, shedding her clothes and stepping directly into the shower. The water hit her with a cold slap, but it was July. The apartment was warm because it didn’t have air conditioning so chilly water was welcome. It also added to her epic display of tortured woman. After a few moments it heated up, but she lived in conservation mode now so she turned off the water and hopped out of the shower long before her troubles washed down the drain.

Nope, she’d carry those troubles to bed with her. Wake up with them. Take them to work. Breathe them in.

I miss you, Tato.

Everything had been better, easier, when he was alive. This being a grownup shit wasn’t for Nika. She didn’t want to do it anymore.

Crawling into bed, Nika rested on her back and stared at the dreamcatcher hanging from the ceiling light. Tato had given it to her on her sixteenth birthday and she’d questioned why he hadn’t given her some Polish-themed memento instead.

“We’re all a little bit Native American, Nika,” he’d told her. “If we look way down deep, we’re all people of the earth.”

People of the earth. If she didn’t figure out a way to keep the trading post and improve its business so she could feed herself, she’d be a person of the earth all right.

Beneath the earth. About six feet.

Chapter Three

“You’re a werewolf too?” The boy, Dylan, stared at Jaemus, a wide-eyed look of excitement in his blue eyes.

“Aye.” Jaemus sat across from the child on a seat made of fluffy cushions and soft material. Brandy had called it a couch and although it wasn’t as ornate as the king’s thrones he’d seen over the years, Jaemus was sure it was more comfortable.

He finished eating the sandwich Brandy had made him and though he’d never had chicken salad before, he decided he liked it. Quite a bit. Of course horse shit would have tasted good to him right about now too. He’d been living on small fish and critters, berries, and nuts for weeks, all of which he had to hunt and collect himself. Food that magically appeared to him and was made by a beautiful woman was certainly preferred.

“Can you change right now?” Dylan asked.

“No.”

“C’mon. I want to see what you look like.”

“This,” Jaemus angled his hands at himself, “is what I look like.”

“As a human, yeah, but what color is your fur? Do your eyes glow like Mom’s and Reardon’s? Are you as big as Reardon? Because he’s huge! He likes to run and play games with me in the field. He can run so fast. Mom too. Can you run fast?”

Jaemus let out a low growl as Reardon and Brandy came into the room.

“You do not growl at my son.” Suddenly Brandy was standing right in front of him, hands on her hips and her mouth set in a firm line. Her eyes glowed in warning.

“He’s like a gnat, buzzing around my head with all his questions. I can’t stand the interrogation.”

Dylan’s shoulders sank and the child looked down to his lap. “I’m sorry.” He slid off his seat and ran out of the room.

Reardon joined Brandy in front of Jaemus. “Listen, brother, I consider that boy my son as well, and you will not speak to him like that again. Understand?”

Jaemus stood abruptly. Brandy backed up several steps, but Reardon remained in his face.

“Go ahead,” Reardon said. “Hit me. If it’ll make you feel better. But I guarantee it won’t. Especially when I hit back.” A growl worked its way into that final sentence, and Reardon’s eyes glowed an intense green-gold in challenge.

Claws extended from Jaemus’s fingertips. His canines lengthened and human reason leached away. “You won’t be able to hit back when I’m through, brother.”

Before he could lunge, Brandy stepped between them. Both he and Reardon let out growls, but she growled right back at them. “Grow up. Fighting won’t solve your problems, boys. Only forgiveness will.” She shot Jaemus a pointed look then faced Reardon. “I’m going to see if Dylan’s okay then head to bed. If I’m not mistaken, you were intending to worship every square inch of me in celebration of America’s freedom. Is that still on?”

Reardon’s eyes glowed brighter as he shifted his focus to Brandy. Desire swelled between them and the scent made Jaemus’s body react. It’d been too long since he’d buried himself in a woman. Too damn long.

“Aye, that’s on, fairy lass. Very on.” Reardon dropped his head and kissed Brandy square on the mouth.

Her body shuddered as she pulled away, laughing. “Well, okay then.” She walked out of the room, her hips swaying deliciously.

“Keep looking at her like that and I’ll rip your face off,” Reardon said.

Jaemus shifted his attention back to his brother. “Just trying to figure out why she wants you.”

Reardon’s features softened, his eyes dimming back to their normal color and a slight grin on his lips. “If you figure that one out, let me know. I don’t deserve her or her son, but for some reason they’ve decided to share their lives, their love with me. I plan to spend my entire life giving them whatever they want, though it will never be enough compared to what they’ve given me.”

“And the boy doesn’t care if you’re a werewolf and you’ve changed his mother into a beast too?” Jaemus hooked his hair behind his left ear and ran a finger along the scar before rubbing his bearded jaw. Though Brandy had tidied him, he still felt like a monster. He always would.

“Dylan is an exceptional boy,” Reardon said. “He and Brandy have a love for the supernatural. They accepted me in wolf form first then as a human then as both.” He scrubbed a hand over his own bearded jaw. “Look, I’m so sorry for what I did to you and the others. I had no right, Jaemus. I know that. Nothing I can do will right that wrong either, but look at me. It’s possible to be a werewolf and have a wonderful life.”

Jaemus doubted that. “Good fortune only smiles upon you, Reardon. You’re one lucky bastard.”

“I guess so. Flidae brought my brother back to me.” Reardon clapped him on the shoulder, but didn’t wait for Jaemus to respond. “Where were you before the goddess dropped you here?”

Jaemus shrugged. “An island. I don’t know where or when. I was the only one there.”

A pained expression flitted across Reardon’s face. “You’ve been alone since Flidae separated us?”

“Aye.”

“That’s been over a month.” Reardon’s jaw tensed then he shook his head. “Well, you’re not alone now. You must be tired, and sleep will make those cuts heal faster. Come. Meredith, Brandy’s mother, prepared the guest room upstairs for you.”

“You get a mother out of the deal too. Incredible.”

“Aye, Meredith is wonderful. You’ll meet her tomorrow. She lives on the property along with the wolves that we’ll also introduce you to. They’re a fantastic pack.”

“And you never intend to go back to Ireland? Our Ireland?” Wouldn’t that be the goal of all the men? To get back home?

“There’s nothing there for me, Jaemus. I lived a life there that caused me to betray men who had only been loyal to me. I don’t want to be that man ever again.” He led Jaemus to a set of stairs and climbed. “Besides,” he threw over his shoulder, “this time and place has so many things you won’t be able to live without.”

Don’t be so sure. Jaemus had come from surviving alone on a scorching tropical island. There was a great deal he could apparently live without.

He followed Reardon up the stairs if only for the promise of a place to sleep. He was the kind of tired he felt deep down in his bones. Maybe if he got some rest he’d be able to sort through the emotions storming inside of him. He was still furious at Reardon, and yet, relief coursed through him as well. Reardon was taking care of him again. Giving him a place to stay, an apology, encouragement that things as a werewolf were not as bad as they seemed. These were all good things, but Jaemus also remembered he was in this situation because of Reardon. He hadn’t minded their previous life as hired warriors. He was good at that life.

If he stayed here with Reardon, what would his life be like? Could he keep the wolf in him hidden? Could he bury that part of him and carry on like the regular human he longed to be again? Could he find someone like Brandy for himself? Did he want to?

Too many questions, not enough answers. So, aye, sleep it would be. Maybe some answers would come in his dreams.

“Here we are.” Reardon stopped at an open doorway and motioned for Jaemus to enter. “Bathroom’s down the hall. There’s more food downstairs in the kitchen if you get hungry. Help yourself to anything you need.” He turned to leave, but then swiveled back. “No more growling at Dylan or Brandy or each other. Deal?” He stuck out his hand, and Jaemus gaped at it.

“I won’t growl at the boy or the woman,” Jaemus said.

“But you can’t promise not to growl at me?”

Jaemus shook his head.

“Maybe in time.”

Doubtful.

Reardon lowered his hand. “See you in the morning.” He walked down the hall a little ways and disappeared behind another door. Giggling sounded on the other side and Jaemus shut his door to drown it out. He wasn’t about to listen to his brother’s escapades. Not when no escapades were scheduled for himself.

He surveyed the room he’d been given. The walls were a deep blue and covered in art work depicting wolves in snow. Wonderful. He couldn’t go a moment without being reminded of his fate.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he lowered to the large bed and flopped back. The bed was surprisingly comfortable. No lumpy spots and no smell of fresh stuffing. It was even more comfortable than the couch. Maybe Reardon had been right about it being hard to leave this time and place.

Jaemus propped himself up on one elbow so he could continue scanning the room, but as he took in the end tables fashioned to match the woodwork on the bed, his eyes grew too heavy to keep open. Taking one of the soft cushions from the head of the bed, Jaemus sunk his head into it. The cuts Brandy had tended hurt less as they brushed up against his clothes. His borrowed clothes.

He sat up and pulled off the shirt then peeled away the pants too, dropping both in a pile on the floor by the bed. In nothing but a pair of undergarments, Jaemus pulled a thin sheet over his mostly naked body. The bedclothes smelled clean and fresh. So different from the sun-baked forest and sandy shores of the island. So different from the star-filled skies of Ireland too.

Ireland. He had to get back there. Maybe Reardon liked it here in this time and place, but Jaemus didn’t belong here. He wasn’t quite sure where he belonged. Maybe wedged in the pages of ancient myths where werewolves and other monsters lurked. Maybe in Hades where evil beasts prowled.

Maybe nowhere. Nowhere at all.

If Reardon could find a place to belong...

He growled, folding the cushion around his head to muffle the sound. He wasn’t his brother. Things didn’t work out for him as they did for Reardon. His brother flexed a little muscle and people bowed down to him—even boys and women from the future apparently. Jaemus, on the other hand, had to work for everything.

When it was his turn to bring home food for Reardon and their mother, he couldn’t rely on fighting. No. He ended up trading work for what they needed. It was never easy work either. Mucking stalls. Harvesting crops. Cleaning forges. Shipbuilding. Granted, he’d acquired many skills, but with a few well-placed punches, Reardon had fed and clothed them all. It took Jaemus weeks sometimes just to earn a few loaves of bread.

But he’d done it. For his mother. For his brother. A brother who did protect him. A brother who eventually made him an extremely wealthy man with all the treasures they’d garnered fighting kings’ battles. A brother who included him in his legendary army.

A brother who chose continued victory over letting Jaemus live a natural, human life.

Brandy wanted him to forgive Reardon. His brother wanted that forgiveness. It wasn’t that easy though. Nothing ever was.

Jaemus rolled to his side and slept for two days straight.

****

“I’ve asked around, Boss,” Zavier said. “No one wants the Wolfman job.”

Three days had gone by since Jared’s arrest, and Zavier was trying his best to be Wolfman, but the kid wasn’t mean or scary or muscled enough. Each show had less and less of a crowd as word got out that the previous Wolfman was gone. No one had answered her help wanted ad either. Robert had been by nearly every day to mention and re-mention that he was all too willing to take the burden of the trading post off her shoulders.

Tato, I’m failing you here. Big time.

And that was the worst part. If Maple Ridge Trading Post closed, the world wouldn’t end, but the last thread that tied Nika to her father would be cut. Sure, she had her memories and she’d never forget his love for her, but she needed this physical reminder of him. Something concrete she could look at say, This was his and a part of him is still here with me.

If the post was gone, Tato would be too.

True, her father was already gone, but she felt him at the post, more than anywhere else. She wasn’t ready or willing to be rid of that feeling yet.

“There’s got to be someone willing to do the job.” She straightened the beeswax candle display to her left.

“Not for the pay you’re offering, Boss,” Carrie said, coming up to the register area toting two bags from Rosie’s Diner. “Lunchtime.”

On Thursdays in the summer, Carrie, Zavier, and Nika had a weekly lunch-staff meeting together. They rotated who brought lunch. Nika usually made some Polish food Carrie and Zavier had never tried before. Zavier always got his grandmother to make something for them, and Carrie’s aunt, Rosie, owned Rosie’s Diner in town.

“I can’t afford to pay any more than I’m offering.” Nika accepted the eggplant sandwich Carrie handed her. “But I guess Jared couldn’t live off that pay, hence the need for the meth business.”

On Tuesday, Sheriff Olsen, two detectives, and a drug-sniffing dog served her a warrant to search the trading post for any indications that Jared was operating any part of his business from there.

“Go for it,” she’d said. “All you’ll find here are bills. Ones I can’t pay.”

Sheriff Olsen had given her a suspicious look, and she’d quickly realized a booming meth business would pay those bills.

“Do you think my tato raised me to be a drug dealer, Sheriff?” She’d offered him what she hoped was an innocent-looking smile, because though she was innocent, she felt as if anything she said or did could be used against her in a court of law.

“No. Your father was an upstanding citizen of Canville. Too bad you’re selling to Senclair.” Olsen had signaled to the detectives to start their search.

“Who said I’m selling to Senclair?”

“Senclair. Just about announced it at Rosie’s last night.” Sheriff Olsen had leaned against the counter by the register and squinted at her. “You marrying him too?”

Nika had let out a rumble through clenched teeth. “Absolutely not.”

Olsen had put up his hands in surrender. “Okay. Thought I’d heard him say that.”

Which he probably had. That’d made Nika want to scream, but she’d bit back her anger and stepped out of the way as the police searched the post. Finding nothing suspicious—or any customers to question—they’d left.

“Maybe I should cancel the show,” Nika said around a bite of her sandwich now. “Red and Hunty have been hinting around at trying their luck in Hollywood. I only think they stay on because they’re both sweethearts and feel bad for me.”

“Like us,” Carrie said, lightly punching Nika’s arm. “Just kidding.”

“Yeah.” Zavier wiped marinara sauce off his mouth with the back of his hand. “We stay because we love you, Nika.”

She reached across the little table in the middle of the post where they ate and squeezed each of their hands. “I love you guys too.” Her throat was too tight to finish her sandwich so she wrapped up the other half, deeming it tonight’s dinner.

“Let’s finish out the week with the show,” Zavier said. “I know I suck as Wolfman, but it’ll give you a chance to break the news to Red and Hunty.”

Nika nodded. “Then I guess I’ll meet with Robert and give him what he wants.”

“Ick.” Carrie wrinkled up her nose while Zavier coughed on his sandwich.

“Not that!” A whole-body shudder wracked her body. “Never that. I’ll just let him buy the post. I’ll make sure he offers you two jobs at Mr. Sprinkles.”

“I wouldn’t work for anything Robert Senclair owned,” Carrie said. “Besides, after next year, Zavier and I will be off to college. He’ll no doubt go to Harvard and I’ll find a nice bargain community college for people who have no idea what they want to be when they grow up.”

“Carrie...” Zavier started, but she held up a hand to silence him.

“I’m not smart like you, Zavier. I’m not creative. I’m not athletic. Come to think of it, I can’t name something I’m truly good at.”

“You’re good at being you,” Zavier said softly.

Nika held back the awww threatening to slip from her mouth. God, had a guy ever said anything that sweet to her? Umm, nope. Never.

“You’re good at slinging bullshit,” Carrie said, but the blush on her cheeks let everyone know she’d been affected by Zavier’s words. “You’ll make an excellent lawyer someday.”

Zavier shrugged. “For now, however...” He held up his can of Mountain Dew. “To Wolfman.”

Nika and Carrie held up theirs as well and all three of them toasted Wolfman. After the final show, Nika would lay him to rest.

Ugh. She felt terrible. About everything.

“Come watch the show.” Zavier stood and cleared away everyone’s trash.

“Sure.” It wasn’t as if any customers were inside the post. There would be some on the log bleachers out back in the theater area though. That might improve her mood. Maybe she could hold an impromptu fifty percent off sale and entice those guests to come into the post.

Zavier left to get into costume while Carrie went to the theater to fire up the popcorn machine. Nika took a few quiet moments to look around the trading post. If she closed her eyes, she could remember what it sounded like on a hot July day with tourists milling about, buying items, laughing with their families, munching on snacks, trading stories with Tato as he wrung them up at the register.

Before she could stop them, tears trailed down her cheeks. Her father’s beloved trading post would be a Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop. Tato hadn’t even liked donuts.

After wiping her eyes, Nika smoothed her rust-colored tank top and shook out the folds of her long skirt. One of her favorites, this skirt sported a geometric Native American design with alternating rows of turquoise, black, brown, and rust-colored shapes. She wore it with a wide brown belt with a silver buckle and a long silver necklace she’d made with a turquoise leaf hanging from it. She’d also made matching earrings, but that was when Tato had been alive and she had some time for arts and crafts. She hadn’t made any jewelry in ages. She missed it.

She wiggled her toes in her brown sandals that laced up her ankles. This was as spiffy as Nika Skarvinski got. After the post closed for good, maybe she’d become a naked, homeless person. She’d have to move south though. Vermont weather was rarely good for outdoor nudity.

Straightening her spine—no need for the few customers at the show to see her dead spirit—Nika went out back and slid onto the first log bench in the theater’s bleachers. A handful of customers made up the audience. Nothing at all like the crowd Jared’s Wolfman used to attract, but she was thankful for Zavier’s attempt to help. Such a sweet boy.

Red Riding Hood appeared on the little stage and welcomed the audience. She caught Nika’s eye and Nika instantly knew Zavier had told her about the show ending. Hunty came out too and blew Nika a kiss. With blurry eyes, she waited for Zavier to come bounding out of the trees in the Wolfman costume.

Before he did, Carrie slid into the seat beside her and put her arm around Nika’s shoulders. “You’re doing the right thing,” she whispered. “Your father would understand.” She leaned her head on Nika’s shoulder.

Too choked up for words, Nika put her arm around Carrie’s waist and held the girl. Because she needed something to hold onto. Her heart was breaking. Into a million jagged pieces. She had no hope of putting it back together. No hope at all.

A scream from the row behind her made Nika jump then turn around. A woman pointed to the stage, where in the trees to the right, Wolfman stood.

“Glad we can still get a jolt out of someone,” Nika mumbled to Carrie.

Instead of replying, Carrie stared straight ahead, her mouth slightly agape.

Nika followed her line of view and instantly saw what had garnered Carrie’s complete attention. Another Wolfman was inching onto the stage.

“Two Wolfmen!” someone yelled from the audience.

Nika could tell the second Wolfman was Zavier by the height and way he moved and the costume which she’d know anywhere. So who in the hell was the first Wolfman?

And where had he gotten his costume because it was phenomenal.

Shaggy silver fur surrounded the head. Huge, golden brown eyes—dammit, glowing eyes—stalked Red and Hunty on the stage. This Wolfman was bare-chested and corded with muscle, a light coat of silver fur on its back. Gnarled hands ended with dagger-like claws and long canine teeth protruded out of a massive jaw. One with the lips curled back in aggression with saliva dripping in hunger.

Slowly Zavier backpedaled off the stage while the new Wolfman advanced on Red and Hunty. Nika moved to the edge of her seat as did Carrie.

“Where did he come from?” Carrie asked. “He’s amazing!”

Amazing. Yeah. Completely.

The small crowd behind them went wild with applause and shouting. They were eating this up even more than when Jared had played Wolfman.

The show unfolded a little off script, but Nika didn’t care. The audience was more than satisfied, and she wanted that Wolfman. As soon as Red and Hunty took a bow, Nika was on her feet and racing to the edge of the theater where the new Wolfman had run off.

“Wait!” she called. “Hey, wait!”

The dude stopped, but didn’t turn around right away, his shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath.

Nika jogged to catch up to him and being up close stole her breath away. He was... big. Well over six feet tall with wide, slightly furry shoulders. “Holy shit. Your costume is marvelous. Did you make it?”

He didn’t say anything. Just panted in front of her. His glowing golden brown eyes were perfectly wild and untamed and... intense. She couldn’t move under the power of them.

“So I guess we’ll consider that show your interview, yeah?” She smiled, hoping to break the magnitude of his stare, but no. This guy was really into the role. Like completely in character. And was he actually growling a little? Cool. “Okay, umm, why don’t you change and come to the trading post? We’ll fill out the paperwork because, baby, you’re hired.”

She reached out a tentative hand and patted his forearm—his ripped-with-muscle forearm. How did one get that effect in a costume? Genius.

Nika headed back toward the trading post, but Mr. Wolfman stood there, breathing heavily, saliva still dripping from his jaw. The details he’d included far surpassed anything Jared had done. She imagined what this guy could do with a larger audience and felt downright giddy. She’d get Carrie to make a video advertisement. Yeah. Something edgy and hip and you’ve-got-to-come-on-out-to-see-this. The ring of the cash register filled Nika’s head and she got drunk on it.

I don’t have to sell to Robert Senclair.

She clapped as she walked away. God, she hoped she could afford this new guy. He appeared to be a professional. Was he used to a big paycheck? What made him crash her show then? He must have been willing to take a pay cut. Maybe he’d been to Hollywood and had become disheartened by it all. Maybe a small town trading post show was just what he was looking for to restore his faith in his craft.

Maybe Nika Skarvinski had received her first miracle.

Chapter Four

Jaemus watched the woman walk away then sniffed the air she’d occupied. He’d never smelled anything so... so enchanting. An intoxicating blend of mint and sunshine. He hadn’t planned on interacting with any people when he’d left the sanctuary to go for a run in the woods. The confines of Brandy’s log home were no longer tolerable. Between his brother trying to convince him that life as a werewolf could be wonderful, Brandy encouraging him to forgive Reardon, Dylan looking at him as if he wanted to ask more questions but was afraid to, and Meredith offering food every time she crossed his path, he’d had to get out of there. Just for a little while.

Or forever.

It was hard work to be mad at Reardon, especially when he was being so hospitable. His brother had let him sleep for two days without interruption or judgment. Jaemus couldn’t remember a time when Reardon had let him be so inactive. When they’d been warriors, Reardon had always insisted on early rising. Conquering was often best achieved first thing in the morning. The fact that Reardon hadn’t disturbed him while he slept emphasized the changes that had happened in his brother since being banished.

Reardon was less selfish. Brandy and her son had helped him reinvent himself, and now they were all trying to do the same to Jaemus.

Who wouldn’t have needed reinvention if it weren’t for Reardon in the first place.

Standing in the woods now, caught between man and wolf form—in wolfman form— Jaemus considered his options. He could run back to the sanctuary and continue to let his brother and his new family coerce him into forgiveness. He could let them suffocate him. Or... he could follow this woman—this beautiful woman—to her... trading post? Had that been what she’d called it? He had no idea what she was trading at this post, but she’d also used the word hired, and that was a word he definitely knew. He’d spent most of his life being hired to fight battles. If she had battles that needed fighting, he certainly could do that.

And if she rewarded him for his services, he could be free of his brother, find his own place, do something worthy as Flidae had instructed them all to do and maybe, just maybe, he could get back to Ireland.

Nodding his wolfish head, Jaemus ran back to where he’d stashed his borrowed clothes. He shifted back to human and pulled on the stiff pants Reardon had said were called jeans and a gray tunic, or T-shirt as Brandy had named it. He shoved his feet into black boots and raked his hands through his hair, hoping he looked civilized.

Although maybe that didn’t matter. This woman hadn’t hesitated to talk to him in wolfman form. She’d even touched his forearm. Had she seen such a beast before? Was she familiar with his situation? Was she not afraid?

Only one way to find out.

He headed in the direction she’d gone and soon found himself at the door of a building with a sign out front that read Maple Ridge Trading Post. Another sign in the window said Little Red and the Wolfman Show, every afternoon at 1 p.m. Tickets available inside.

Wolfman Show? Was that what that encounter with the woman in the red hooded cape and the man wielding the ax was about? A show? In the middle of the woods? He’d seen the people watching, screaming, and cheering, but the human part of his mind had retreated in order to let the wolfman run free. He’d chased the woman and man around the cleared area for the sport of it. They’d made good prey targets. If he were to accept these new wild parts of himself, he had to get in touch with this wolf side, didn’t he?

But a show? This was the job the pretty woman wanted to offer him? To run around and scare villagers? He could do that. Gods, he’d scared villagers as a warrior. Fur, fangs, and claws would only make the job that much easier.

Jaemus pushed the door open and surveyed the interior of the building. A few people wandered about, talking excitedly about The Wolfman Show—about him—as they picked up various items on display. He recognized candles, some furniture pieces, and quilts hanging on a wall, but many of the baubles were foreign to him. Items from the future he didn’t understand.

A ringing to his left made him whip his head in that direction. Two people stood on one side of a counter while a boy stabbed his fingers on a frame of some kind. Every stab made that ringing sound and paper and coins exchanged hands. That paper and coins didn’t look like the treasures Jaemus was accustomed to, but he quickly understood the meaning was the same.

Riches.

Riches he could have if he agreed to be a wolfman in a public display.

“Hello!”

Jaemus shifted his gaze away from the people exchanging riches and focused on the woman in front of him—the one who’d offered to hire him.

“Would you like to step into my office, Mister...” She raised dark eyebrows over pale green eyes. Eyes like spring grass in Ireland.

“Jaemus McAlator.” He took the hand she offered him and kissed the back of it.

Her cheeks instantly reddened and her other hand went to her throat. “Oh.” The word came out as a breathy whisper that sent a ripple through Jaemus’s body. “Nice accent.” Her brows furrowed. “McAlator. Are you related to Brandy’s fiancé, Reardon?”

Even here my brother is legendary. Of course.

“Aye. He’s my brother.”

“And you’ve come to visit him?” She glanced down to her hand which Jaemus still held.

He released it and cleared his throat. “Aye. For a time.” Until I can get back to Ireland.

“So you won’t be staying in Canville permanently?” Her shoulders sank a little, her lovely mouth turning down at the corners.

“That hasn’t been determined as of yet.” He folded his arms across his chest and watched as her gaze combed over his biceps. Taking in a deep breath, he nearly choked on the arousal coming off her. He’d smelled the desire between Brandy and Reardon, but he hadn’t been aware he’d be able to tell immediately if someone was attracted to him. He had to work hard to keep a grin off his lips.

“I suppose we’ll take you for as long as we can have you. That crowd—small as it was—loved you out there.” She pointed to the few people in the trading post. “Every one of them came into the post after the show, talking about you, buying stuff. I didn’t even have to do the fifty percent off sale I was thinking about doing to get them to come in here.”

Her gorgeous eyes sparkled, and if they didn’t sit somewhere soon, she’d be able to tell how aroused he was as well.

“You mentioned hiring me? Might we discuss that?” he asked.

“Sure. Right.” She turned around, giving Jaemus a prime view of her sweet ass, swaying beneath her long skirt. “This way.”

She led him to a small room at the back of the trading post and motioned for him to sit at a chair in front of a tidy desk. Taking the seat behind the desk, she rifled through some papers, mumbling to herself.

Jaemus took the opportunity to study her. Her shoulder-length, chestnut hair was curly and soft about her angular face, streaks of red shimmering in the lighting from overhead. The tunic she wore showcased her breasts which he was certain were perfect and touchable. A turquoise leaf on a long silver chain rested between those lovely breasts and his hands itched to explore all of that.

He’d been with many women during their travels as warriors. It hadn’t been hard to find a willing partner when his name was associated with victory and slaying enemies and gathering riches. How hard would it be to bed this woman before him now? From the continued fragrance of her arousal, not very hard at all.

Again, he had to contain his grin.

“Is this you?” He pointed to the name carved onto a wooden rectangle sitting atop the desk.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” She rolled those pale green eyes heavenward and smiled, turning her face into that of a goddess. “I’m Nika Skarvinski, owner of Maple Ridge Trading Post.”

What is it with you McAlators? Flidae’s voice rang out inside his head. She is human. Not a goddess.

But surely her beauty is comparable.

A slicing pain through his skull temporarily blinded him. He suppressed the groan threatening to escape his throat and adjusted in his seat.

Do you see things my way now, warrior wolf?

Aye.

The ache vanished and Jaemus blinked his eyes back into focus. No more thinking of this woman as a goddess. Ever.

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Nika Skarvinski.”

“Likewise.” She shook her head, making those curls bounce around her face. “Actually, it’s more than nice. You are going to save my ass if you take the Wolfman job.” She clicked something in her hand as she smoothed the papers she’d sorted through on her desk. “You are going to take the job, aren’t you?”

“What is the job exactly?”

“It’s exactly what you did out there today. You’re lucky because Wolfman doesn’t have any speaking lines. He’s more about running wild and getting the audience hyped, which you did perfectly. And your costume was insane. Did you make it?”

No, my brother did. “Aye. That’s the look you want for your Wolfman?”

“Definitely. It’s better than my previous Wolfman, and he used to draw in a good-sized crowd.”

“What happened to your previous Wolfman?”

At this question, Nika’s gaze dropped to the item she kept clicking in her hand. She didn’t say anything for a few minutes and the clicking was all that filled the small room.

Finally, Jaemus could take it no more. He reached across the desk and covered her hand with his. He was immediately struck by how small her hand was under his massive one. He also couldn’t ignore the jolt that shot up his arm when he touched her. Shot up his arm through his chest then instantly southward.

Nika flattened her hand and dropped the slender clicking stick. “Sorry. I click my pen when I get nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?”

She raised her gaze to meet his. “I... uhh... don’t know exactly.” She shook her head. “Maybe I’m not nervous. Maybe I’m excited. I mean, I was about to sell my trading post—one that my father built—to a real jackass because I didn’t have any other options. You, however, have given me an option.”

Nika quickly explained that her previous Wolfman had gotten arrested for dealing drugs. Jaemus didn’t quite understand what that meant, but knew it meant that man could no longer do the Wolfman job. She also told him that without a successful show she couldn’t make enough money to keep her post open.

And keeping that post open was important to her. He could tell in the way she’d mentioned her father, her tato. Though the man had passed, the shop kept him alive for Nika. Having no idea who his own father was, Jaemus could appreciate her longing. So many nights he’d stayed awake on his uncomfortable cot at his mother’s home wondering what his father was like. Then Reardon had met his, and Jaemus was frightened his father might be a werewolf too. He didn’t want that. Didn’t want to know that a beast was living inside him, waiting to burst out.

But I got that anyway.

“So what do you say? Will you take the job, Mr. McAlator?” Nika raised hopeful eyebrows.

Jaemus could hear that she was holding her breath. Taking this job would save her. Would be something worthy. Would be his ticket home.

“Aye. I’ll take it.”

Nika popped up from her seat and ran around to his side of the desk. When she tossed herself at him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and squeezing, Jaemus was certain he’d just accepted much more than a job.

****

Let go of him. Stop touching him. What the hell are you doing? Oh-my-God, release him.

Nika had lost control of her arms. They wouldn’t let Mr. McAlator go. Her joy over him accepting the Wolfman job was so abundant and potent she couldn’t stop hugging him.

Of course the fact that his shoulders were broad in her arms, his beard scraped lightly against her cheek, and he smelled like a midnight run through the summer woods didn’t help matters. At all.

When his muscled arms came around her body, she sighed. She actually sighed. Out loud. For him to hear.

I need to dig a hole, climb inside, and bury myself. Because she was going to die of embarrassment.

But still, she didn’t let him go.

And he didn’t let her go.

They stayed in the embrace for another five count before Nika found the strength to release her hold on him and take a step back. His arms slowly dropped from around her, his fingers trailing down her bare arms as he let her go. Goosebump Central. Yikes. If his fingers on her arms caused sensations like that, what would... oh, don’t go there.

Because she had a trading post and a father’s memory to save. Not a man to bed. Nope.

“Can you start tomorrow, Mr. McAlator?” she asked, her voice raspy and needy and maybe desperate. Ugh. Pull yourself together, Nika Skarvinski. Now.

“Jaemus. Call me Jaemus.”

“Jaemus.” A shiver rolled through her as his name slid off her lips. She cleared her throat and blinked at the papers on her desk. “Okay, then. Let’s get these filled out.” She turned the application and hiring forms around so they faced Jaemus and set the pen atop them.

He leaned forward and Nika took a minute to watch the way his chin-length blond hair fell loose from behind his ears and hung about his strong cheekbones. Golden brown eyes scanned the forms and he pursed full lips, lips that looked quite capable of doing things to her. Splendid things. Make-her-scream-his-name things. His short beard framed those incredible lips and covered his square jaw perfectly save for one line where no hair grew. On closer inspection, Nika saw there was a scar there.

I’ve scored a Badass Irish Wolfman. She wanted to hug him again, but she clamped her hands on the edge of her desk and told herself to stay.

When Jaemus picked up the forms with his big man hand and frowned, Nika asked, “Is there something wrong?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “I’ll fill these out and bring them back with me tomorrow when I start. Would that be agreeable to you?”

Agreeable to me? Who talked like that? “Uh, sure. That’s fine.” What did she care when he filled out the forms? As long as he showed up in that marvelous costume and pulled the crowd in like he did today, she didn’t care about anything else.

“The show is at one o’clock, aye?” He stood and Nika let her gaze travel from his knees, slowly up to his hips, over his abs and chest behind that T-shirt, to his shoulders, beard, and finally to those maple syrup-colored eyes.

“One o’clock, yes.” Nika got up too. “Can I introduce you to Carrie and Zavier, my teenaged super staff?” She wasn’t quite ready for him to take his hotness out of her post yet.

He nodded and followed her out of her office. They found Carrie at the register cashing out some customers. Real customers! Zavier was explaining the beeswax candle-making process to a little girl and what appeared to be her grandparents.

Live people. In her trading post. Browsing. Buying things. Once word got out that a new Wolfman had been hired—a sexy new Wolfman—things would only get better.

With a new pep in her step, Nika led Jaemus to Carrie who had finished up with her customers.

“This him?” Carrie asked before Nika could do a proper introduction. “Hi, I’m Carrie Pine. Dude, you rocked it out there.” She smiled at him then winked at Nika, which was total girl code for Oh-my-God, he’s beautiful. Nika couldn’t dispute the kid’s observation.

“Thank you. Jaemus McAlator.” He took Carrie’s hand and kissed the back of it as he had Nika’s, though he didn’t hold on to Carrie’s hand as long as he had Nika’s.

“An Irish Wolfman, ohhhh.” Carrie’s blue eyes widened. “We need a video ad, Nika. Pronto.”

“I thought of that too.” Nika turned to Jaemus. “Maybe, if you don’t have to rush off after the show tomorrow, you could work with Carrie on an advertisement to get people to come on out and stare at you. I mean... see you. Would that work?”

“Aye.” He hooked his hair behind his left ear and something tingled down low in Nika’s belly. A let-me-play-with-that-hair-hotstuff tingle.

“Carrie, can you ring up these folks?” Zavier asked, his green eyes immediately giving Jaemus a clear once-over. He stuck out his hand for a shake and had to look up to meet Jaemus’s gaze. Zavier wasn’t a short kid, but Jaemus towered over him at probably 6’3”, Nika figured, and he was twice as wide as the teenager. “Zavier Russo.” What his mouth didn’t say, his stance did. Carrie is mine. Take your tall, manly sexiness elsewhere. I beg you.

As Carrie took care of the customers, Jaemus shook Zavier’s hand, but he looked awkward doing so. Almost as if he came from a time and place where people didn’t greet each other that way.

Silly.

“Zavier, Jaemus agreed to the Wolfman job so you’re officially off the hook,” Nika said.

“I wish I were better at it, but I don’t have the beast inside me.” Zavier shrugged.

Beside her, Jaemus bristled, but he didn’t say anything.

“That’s because you’re a sweetheart, Zavier,” Carrie said.

Zavier stumbled back as if he’d been punched in the gut. “Arrow... to... my... manhood.”

Chuckling, Carrie balled up a piece of paper by the register and tossed it at Zavier. He ducked quickly and the paper ball sailed past him. “Being a sweetheart isn’t a bad thing.” She turned her gaze to Jaemus. “What do you think? Nothing wrong being a nice guy, is there?”

A slow grin cut across Jaemus’s face, and Nika had to bite her bottom lip to keep from sighing aloud. Again.

“I don’t know. I’m not known to be a nice guy.” He raised one eyebrow as he looked Nika over.

Holy shit. His eyes alone made her insides quiver, and she desperately wanted to know how not nice he could be.

“I should go,” he said, folding the application forms Nika had given him in half.

“I’ll walk you out.” Don’t go, she wanted to cry out, but managed to get a freaking grip on her runaway hormones.

Jaemus gestured for her to lead the way, so she guided him to the front door and stepped outside with him.

“So how did you make your costume?”

He shook his head. “Can’t tell you that.”

“Why not?”

“Can’t give away all my secrets, sprite. There would be no fun in that.” He walked away while Nika just about melted on the sidewalk. Sprite? Should she have been insulted by that? Because she couldn’t be insulted by a man with an ass like his. A man shouldn’t have a behind that filled out a pair of jeans so perfectly. Damn.

“You’ll give me all your secrets,” she called out before she could think about what she was saying. Was she flirting? Is that what she was doing? God, she hoped it hadn’t come off as rusty as hell. Flirting wasn’t something she’d done with any real success since high school.

Jaemus stopped short and turned back to her, the left corner of his mouth turned up slightly. Nika had a crazy urge to run her fingertip along that scar cutting across his beard.

Or her tongue. Yeah, definitely her tongue.

“Is that a challenge?”

She shrugged her right shoulder. “Maybe.”

He laughed—a low, gruff sound that made her feel a little dizzy. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Nika Skarvinski.”

“Bye.” She waved, but he’d already turned away.

A few customers were lingering by a mini-van, and when Nika looked back at Jaemus, he wasn’t heading for a vehicle.

“Hey, Jaemus,” she called. “Where’s your car?”

He stopped again, and Nika felt her cheeks burn. Did he know she was doing whatever she could think of to keep him on the premises longer?

“I walked,” he said.

“Oh?”

“I’m staying with my brother and his mate at Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary just on the other side of the woods there.” He gestured to the woods that bordered both the trading post and the sanctuary Nika had visited on many occasions. The Wendons were good friends of hers... and Tato’s.

So Jaemus was that close then? Good to know.

And did he call Brandy Reardon’s mate? Was that an Irish thing? Didn’t sound like one to Nika, but what did she know? She wasn’t even sure if sprite was supposed to be demeaning. The way he’d said it hadn’t sounded negative. It had sounded as if he were amused by her. That could be good. A sense of humor was attractive, right?

“Okay, then.” She rocked back on her heels, completely out of discussion topics to delay Jaemus’s departure. You’ll see him tomorrow, goofball. Nika was certain that if she had to watch this whole exchange on video she’d be mortified by her behavior. “See you tomorrow.”

Stop talking, moron. Shut the hell up.

Jaemus raised his hand, wiggling his fingers but not turning around as the trees swallowed him.

She watched until she couldn’t see him anymore then watched for a few additional minutes. Hoping for what? That he’d come crashing back through the woods, pin her up against the post’s front door, and ravage her mouth?

Sometimes she loved her vivid imagination.

“He’s gorgeous.”

Nika let out a shout and nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Carrie’s voice behind her. “I suppose.” She had to clear her throat to get the words out and pull herself out of her fantasies.

Carrie snorted. “You more than suppose, Boss.” She came to stand in front of Nika. “I’ve known you for a while and I ain’t never seen your face glow like that.”

“Oh, stop it.” Nika gave Carrie a small shove as if the girl was being completely ridiculous.

Though maybe it’s me that’s being ridiculous.

She’d hired a man she knew nothing about. Well, she knew he could play Wolfman. Maybe that was all she needed to know.

As for what she wanted to know, however...

Chapter Five

Jaemus stared at the papers Nika had given him, not any closer to understanding what they said. He could be a wolfman. Of that he had no doubt. He could stare at Nika and enjoy every minute of it. Easy. What he couldn’t do was fill in these blasted papers. He didn’t even know where to begin. The words were foreign to him, and he’d never been any good with words back home in Ireland.

Fighting. He was good at fighting. He didn’t need words to run a sword blade through an enemy. He didn’t need words to count his riches... or spend them.

He sighed and rubbed his eyes as he sat at the table outside on Brandy’s patio. Bright sunshine bathed him in golden warmth as a slight breeze rustled leaves a shade of green that rivaled the hills of Ireland. Looking around, he had to admit the forest here was lovely. Browns and greens combined in invitation, and he almost couldn’t resist shifting again to run.

Running meant freedom. While he was on the island, he’d spent about an hour each day running along the shore, partly to keep his body in shape, but mostly to satiate the wolf permanently lurking under his skin. Also, there hadn’t been anything else to occupy his time on that blasted island.

“Whatcha doing?” Dylan came out of the house with an apple he tossed from hand to hand.

Jaemus had a sudden urge to reach out and grab the apple. He was fast enough to get it, and it would probably shock the boy.

“You look like you’re trying to do homework.” Dylan pulled out the chair across from Jaemus and made himself comfortable. He bit into the apple, a loud crunch cutting into Jaemus’s peace and quiet. “Need help? I’m good at homework.”

Hmm. Without saying a word, Jaemus flipped the papers so the boy could see them. Dylan bent his head over the applications, his blue eyes scanning the top page quickly. Taking another bite of his apple and spraying Jaemus slightly with juice, he turned over the first form to look at the others below it.

“A job application? For Nika’s place?” Dylan raised his gaze to meet Jaemus’s.

“Aye. You know the sprite?”

The boy giggled. “Sprite. That’s a funny thing to call her.”

“Sprites are magical and beautiful and she was definitely...” Jaemus let his voice trail off before he said something not appropriate for a child’s ears. “Do you know Nika?”

Dylan nodded. “Sure. She and Mom are friends. We’ve been to her trading post. I mean, it’s right there.” He gestured toward the woods with his arm where Jaemus knew the post was just on the other side. “Nika’s father, Cezar, was a cool guy. He always had the best stories.”

“Nika mentioned he passed.” Something told Jaemus he shouldn’t be extracting information about Nika from a child, but he couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to know all he could about the amazing woodland sprite he’d met today. He couldn’t get her out of his mind.

Dylan nodded. “Yeah. Cezar died several years ago and the post is in trouble.”

That much Jaemus knew. Hence the job offer he’d received. Nika had said playing Wolfman would save her ass.

And gods be damned, he wanted to do more than save that fantastic ass.

Jaemus pointed to the applications. “Do you know what these say?”

The boy looked at him as if Jaemus had gone mad. “Of course.” Then his big eyes widened even more and his cheeks pinked. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t think about how you probably can’t because you’re not from here.” He chewed his bottom lip as Jaemus had seen Brandy do as well. “I can read them to you and fill in what you want me to write.”

He bit into his apple again then set it down on the edge of the table where it wobbled precariously for a moment before rolling toward Jaemus. Dylan quickly stopped the fruit and took three more large bites, finishing it. With a surprising amount of strength, he tossed the core so it landed quite a distance away.

“The wolves like to pick at the remains,” he said.

Sure enough, one brown wolf lumbered over to investigate.

“Which one is that?” Reardon had named all of the wolves to Jaemus earlier today, but he’d only half listened, trying his best to be as uninterested as possible. Out of spite.

It was probably time he grew up and got over it. Reardon had turned him into a wolf. He was stuck here until he did something worthy. He was at the mercy of an angry goddess. All of these things were beyond his control.

Plus, there was Nika. She was just the sprite to distract him from his current situation... or help him out of it if he could do something worthy for her.

Or with her. Were having relations with her considered something worthy? Because he definitely wanted to sample her.

“That’s Lug. He’s usually the one hanging around closest to the house. He likes to know what’s going on at all times.” Dylan turned his attention back to the forms and picked up the pen Jaemus had found in the house. He tapped the pen tip to the top paper. “So... help? Yes? No?”

“Why would you help me?” The last interaction between Jaemus and the boy had resulted in growling and Brandy barking at Jaemus.

Dylan shrugged one shoulder. “Because you seem sad and mad. Maybe having a job will make you happy.”

Jaemus stared at the child for a long, silent moment. In the span of two sentences, he understood why Reardon loved the boy. Only a soul so pure of heart would offer to help someone who hadn’t been all that nice to him.

“Aye.” He had to clear his throat, overcome with emotion. Not that he’d admit that to anyone. “I think it will make me happy.”

A smile beamed on the boy’s face, and Jaemus found himself smiling too.

“Okay, so, first question is name.” Dylan squinted at him. “I know how to spell McAlator because Mom wrote it down on a school paper so Reardon could pick me up if I get sick or something, but I’m not sure about Jaemus.”

“J-a-e-m-u-s.” Jaemus sat up straighter in his chair. If Dylan was serious about helping him, he wanted to give the child his full attention. “Maybe we don’t tell your mom and my brother about this job yet, aye?”

Innocent blue eyes stared up at him. “Why? Won’t they be glad you’re getting a job?”

“I want to make sure it’s going to work out first. Give it a trial before telling them, you see?” A little voice in Jaemus’s brain that sounded like Reardon told him his brother might not be wild about the idea of him running about a theater in wolfman form in front of an audience. He’d need to share that information carefully and when Reardon was in the best of moods. If he wanted Reardon in a good mood, he’d probably have to stop sulking around and let go of his hatred.

Easier said than done.

“So it’s like a science experiment?” The hopeful tone of Dylan’s voice told Jaemus to agree.

He nodded. “Aye. I might not be any good at this job. Then they’ll be disappointed. I don’t need that right now.” Though he was certain he’d be good at this job. Unnaturally good.

“I get it,” Dylan said. “I won’t say anything until you want them to know, but if you need someone to collect data on your experiment, let me know. I love data.” He smiled then bent his head over the application again.

Jaemus had never heard the word data before, but it also made Dylan happy so he nodded again.

“Okay, the next question is about where you live? Do you want me to put the sanctuary’s address? I think if I put Ireland of the past down, Nika might think you’re nuts.” The boy didn’t wait for Jaemus to reply. Instead he scribbled along the lines on the application then turned it to face Jaemus. “So far we have your name and your address. Now it wants to know about your prior work experience.” He looked up at Jaemus, a frown on his lips. “I don’t think warrior is going to be a correct answer here.”

“Why not? It was my job. I got paid for my services.” I bled. Often.

“I know, but people nowadays aren’t warriors.” Dylan’s face suddenly brightened. “When Reardon first came, he let us believe he was a soldier in the military. Let’s put that down. People will accept that and respect it.”

Jaemus squirmed in his seat a bit. He didn’t especially like lying to Nika, but he wanted that job. That Wolfman Show meant freedom and the wolf in him craved that above all else. This freedom, however, would not be total if he had to keep secrets and hide behind lies.

“What’s the matter?” Dylan asked, the pen tip hovering over the application.

“Lying usually causes trouble.”

The boy let out a chuckle. “That’s for sure. I once lied about what happened to my bicycle, and Mom was not happy.”

“What happened to your bicycle?” Jaemus had seen the boy riding the two-wheeled contraption earlier today. It had looked like an interesting pastime and mode of transport.

“I took it over to Parker’s house when we were having one of our sleepover movie marathons. I left it outside and someone stole it. I thought Mom was going to kill me because I’d left it outside. It was an expensive bike she bought me for my ninth birthday, and she was always telling me to take care of it. When she picked me up from Parker’s, she didn’t remember that I’d taken my bike over there. I didn’t say anything that night or the next night. On the third day, she asked me why I wasn’t riding it because I was usually always riding it. I said I didn’t feel like it and that it was in the barn.” He shook his head. “That was a dumb thing to say because of course the next time she was in the barn she looked for it.”

“Was she furious that the bike had been stolen?” Jaemus knew he’d be angered if someone touched his possessions, which made him wonder what was happening to the riches he’d acquired back in his time, his place. He and the men shared an old fortress as their base. The area was large enough that they each had their own chambers. With all the men gone, would thieves and vagabonds take over their quarters?

“She was madder that I lied. Gave me this whole speech that Wendons don’t lie to each other. Ever.” Dylan glanced down at the application then looked back up at Jaemus, his blond brows crinkled together. “If I don’t tell Mom and Reardon about helping you with this application, isn’t that lying?”

Jaemus shook his head. “It’s helping me. Helping is always good, is it not?”

Dylan appeared to consider this notion carefully. “Okay, but if Mom yells at me, you’d better get me out of trouble.”

“We have an accord.”

“A what?”

“An accord. An agreement.”

“Gotcha.” The boy beamed a smile, making Jaemus reconsider his previous beliefs about children. His life wasn’t one in which children could exist. Running from battle to battle, coming home soaked in opponents’ blood, thinking more about his sword and other weapons than anything else was normal for him. He’d never pictured himself as a father. He had no idea how to be one.

Reardon shouldn’t either and yet...

Dylan wrote for a few moments, hesitating once in a while as he hunted for the right words to use. He was going out of his way to assist Jaemus, and that made Jaemus want to do something for the child. But what?

Before he could come up with an answer, the boy put down the pen and slid all the papers across the table. He got up from his seat and came around to Jaemus’s side.

“So I wrote you were a soldier here,” he pointed to where he’d written that, “then I put Reardon down as a reference because he was your leader. Normally, you don’t put family down as a reference, but Nika needs you to take the job bad enough that she won’t check up on you anyway.”

At the mention of Nika, Jaemus’s mind wandered to the sprite and the way her scarce tunic had allowed him to see so much of her fair skin. What would that skin taste like? His incisors nearly lengthened at the mere thought.

He barely heard what Dylan said about the rest of the answers on the application. His attention was focused on seeing Nika tomorrow when he returned the papers and started work.

When he used the beast inside him to entertain.

****

Nika hummed as she went through her morning routine. She hadn’t hummed in a long time. Sighing? Yes. Grumbling? Definitely. But humming? No, not since Tato died and the trading post’s profits dipped to the negative side.

The negative negative side.

But today marked the turnaround point for which she’d been praying. She had a new Wolfman, and while her old Wolfman had been good, Jaemus McAlator was going to be sensational. She’d only met him once, only seen him perform once, but she couldn’t get him out of her mind. He’d dazzle the audience—the massive audience—just as he’d dazzled her. Once word got out about his impressive, realistic performance as Wolfman, the crowds would come from all over the country to see him.

A flash of something almost possessive zipped through her as she thought of all those eyes on him. Checking him out. Marveling over his costume—and his muscles. Muscles she’d distinctly noticed had not been a mere part of the costume. No, those muscles were one hundred percent Jaemus.

“Mmm...”

She put her cereal bowl down, quite aware her hum of approval had not been for the bland, toasted oats barely moistened by the splash of milk she’d poured on in Ebenezer Scrooge fashion. Was it being a Scrooge if she didn’t actually have the money to waste on milk for her bargain-priced cereal?

Regardless, that hum had been completely and totally for one hot Irish stranger.

“He won’t be a stranger for long, Daisy.” Nika gave her pup a scratching between the ears. “We’re planning to get to know him well. Very well.”

Daisy sniffed at Nika’s cereal bowl, and deeming it no more fragrant than the kibble in her bowl, she lumbered off to have her own breakfast.

Nika finished eating, dreaming of pancakes, real maple syrup, eggs, bacon, maybe some fancy breakfast pastries... a breakfast for someone who had the luxury of spending money on breakfast.

That will be me. Soon.

Assuming her new Wolfman showed up. And why wouldn’t he?

“Because I’m paying him next to nothing,” she said aloud as she rinsed her bowl in the sink, dried it, and put it away in the cupboard.

What if Jaemus decided her offer wasn’t worth what it cost him in both money for his costume and time to play Wolfman? What if he’d only taken the application forms to be polite? Why had he taken them home anyway? Filling them out in her office wouldn’t have taken much time at all.

“Shit.”

She slumped against the kitchen counter and rubbed her temples. How could she have been so stupid? Of course Jaemus wasn’t going to accept the job. Only meth dealers were crazy enough to play a wolfman in a silly fairy tale spin-off show at a trading post located in Nowhere, Vermont.

Back to sighing, Nika trudged to the bathroom to finish getting ready. Getting ready for the probable demise of Maple Ridge Trading Post. When she sat on the bench by the door to put on her sandals, Daisy trotted over and put her head in Nika’s lap, her big golden eyes looking up compassionately.

“Thanks, baby. You’re such a good girl. Mama wishes she could buy you all the toys in the world and get you a brother or a sister to play with.” But truthfully, dog food and vet visits were expensive. Maybe she should start thinking about finding another home for Daisy.

Ugh. That thought made her eyes sting. Daisy was her only family. She couldn’t bear to be apart from her.

“We’ll think of something, Daisy-girl.” She stood and grabbed her purse. “You want to come to work today?” Nika had to do something to improve her spirits now that she was certain Jaemus would not be making an appearance today. Funny how she had been humming, blissfully ridiculous, only moments ago and now the stark realities had bitch-slapped her.

Again.

Daisy’s tail wagged at the invitation to go to the post, and Nika opened the door of the loft apartment. The dog’s nails scritch-scratched all the way down the stairs, and she shot out of the barn as soon as Nika let her pass. Two red squirrels let Nika know they were unhappy about Daisy’s sudden appearance, and a hawk screeched high up in a massive pine tree on the path to the trading post.

“Yeah, well, at least you can fly off and not worry about bills, Mr. Hawk. I don’t want to hear any of your complaining.”

Nika followed Daisy toward the trading post and stumbled to a stop when she caught sight of a figure leaning against the building by the door.

A tall, well-muscled figure. A blond-haired, bearded figure. An Irish male model figure.

“Jaemus.” His name slipped out of her mouth before she could hang on to it.

He smiled as she approached and her knees wobbled. “You bring the sunshine with you, sprite.” He pointed to the clouds parting overhead and the warm, yellow glow of another perfect Vermont summer day.

A hot summer day. So hot.

Suddenly the red tank top and red, black, and white flowered skirt Nika had chosen for today felt like too much clothing.

“You’re here.” She came to stand in front of him, wanting to reach out and make sure he wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

“Aye.” His brows drew toward one another. “Did we not decide I would work here?”

“We did,” Nika said. “Well, I did anyway. I wasn’t entirely convinced that you did.”

He held out some papers. Papers Nika quickly realized were application forms. Filled in application forms. “Your documentation, sprite. I’m convinced I should work here. If you’ll still have me.”

She took them, not caring in the least what information they contained. She knew his name and where he lived and that he was an amazing Wolfman. What more did she need to know?

Perhaps if his abs looked as amazing as she believed them to look...

“Sprite?”

“What?”

“Will you still have me?”

Have him? Good God.

“Yes, of course. I told you yesterday, you’re my only hope of saving my ass and this place.”

Daisy whined from her spot next to Nika.

“And who is this lovely creature?” Jaemus held out his big hand for the dog to sniff and generally slobber all over.

If only I could do that.

“This is Daisy.”

“Hello, Daisy.” He rubbed the dog’s ears until Daisy was a quivering ball of brown fur on the gravel path.

“You’ll spoil her.” I’m jealous was what Nika meant. She wanted to be rubbed. All over. Right now. By Jaemus.

She let them all into the trading post and flicked on the lights as Daisy darted down one of the aisles to investigate things.

“So, saving your ass and this post, aye? That’s a great deal of pressure to put on the new lad, isn’t it?” Jaemus followed her toward her office.

She turned around before opening the office door. “Afraid you can’t handle the pressure?” Why did he bring out the flirt in her? It was as if she didn’t even have to try.

His golden brown eyes darkened as he looked at her, his gaze darting to her mouth for a moment before settling back on her eyes. “I work well under pressure.”

Pressure. Yes, some definite pressure was building up. Between them. Between Nika’s legs.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other then quickly turned back to the office door. Pushing her key inside the lock, she twisted the knob, the sound of a ringing phone immediately greeting them.

“Excuse me a minute.” She gestured for Jaemus to sit on the couch and gazed longingly at the cushion beside him before yanking the phone off its base. “Maple Ridge Trading Post, Nika speaking.”

“Nika. It’s Robert.” As if she wouldn’t recognize that snake’s voice when she heard it.

She lowered to the seat behind her desk and rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. How long was it going to take to deal with Robert today? She didn’t have time for this. Not when sexy Jaemus made her couch look like paradise.

“What do you want, Robert?”

Jaemus looked at her, something flaring in his eyes in response to the tone of her voice. Or maybe to the fact that she was speaking to a man? Jesus, his eyes nearly glowed. Must have been a trick of the office lights reflecting in all that golden brown.

“I want you, for starters,” Robert said, making her skin crawl. “I want to rescue you from your money troubles and give you a life fit for a princess.”

“I don’t need rescuing, and I’m not fond of royalty.” At least not if Robert Senclair was the prince doing the rescuing. If Jaemus wanted to swoop in and carry her far, far away, however, she’d sign up for that ride without even thinking.

Jaemus is rescuing me. The fact that he’d shown up this morning rescued her. Playing Wolfman this afternoon would rescue her. Making that advertisement video of Jaemus would rescue her.

“You don’t need rescuing? Did you suddenly find hidden money, Nika?” Robert’s voice chafed her nerve endings.

“I found a treasure, yes.” She shot a quick glance to Jaemus who was still watching her and smiling now that he realized she was calling him a treasure. She winked at him and his grin widened.

Damn, he’s pretty.

And since when did she wink at men? This guy was dangerous. What out-of-character things would she do next? Her body tingled at the possibilities.

“Treasure? What kind of treasure?” Robert’s voice brought her mind out of a dirty, dirty place.

Nika threw a glance up to the air conditioning vent in the ceiling. Was the unit broken? Why was it so hot in her office? She’d have to check on that.

Yeah.

“An end-of-the-rainbow Irish treasure.” She lifted an eyebrow at Jaemus, who made a blue T-shirt and black jeans look runway ready. “I gotta go, Robert.” She didn’t wait for him to reply before clicking the phone off and setting it on her desk. That would probably send him running to the post to see what was going on, but for once, she didn’t care if he showed up today.

Because she wasn’t alone. Jaemus was here.

“Everything okay, sprite?” Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. Though he sat back against the couch, he didn’t look relaxed. His muscles appeared tensed. Ready. Wanting to be used.

“Yeah. Mr. Robert Senclair wishes to purchase all this,” she motioned to the building around them, “and turn it into a Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop.”

Jaemus sat forward now, his hands clasping his knees, fingers gripping. “The ass-saving you mentioned.”

Nika nodded. “The Wolfman Show will bring in money. If I’m bringing in money, I can keep Robert away.”

“There are many ways to keep him away.” Jaemus narrowed his eyes at her and tilted his head to the side, almost as if he were sniffing the air around him. “He wants more than your post.”

She looked away. How the hell did he figure that out? “Well, he’s shit out of luck on that front too.”

“Good.” Jaemus’s facial expression relaxed, his mouth turning up in a grin again. “Do you have time to give me a tour of the place?”

Nika popped up out of her seat. “Sure.” She glanced at his application forms, which she should probably look at, but the notion of guiding him around the trading post and its outdoor features delighted her. “Right this way.”

He eased off the couch with fluid movements and a grace a man of his size shouldn’t have. “How did you come to own this place?”

She spent a few moments telling him about Tato and his Native American friends. Jaemus listened as if every word she said was important to him. Had anyone ever focused their attention on her like that? Big no. Big.

After she’d shown him the entire post and the outdoor theater where he’d be doing most of his acting, she brought him back to the front doors, Daisy loping along beside them. There were still a lot of hours before The Wolfman Show. What was Jaemus planning to do in those hours? Come to think of it...

“Why did you come in so early? The show isn’t until the afternoon.” She squinted one eye at him, but one eye wasn’t enough to truly enjoy his otherworldly beauty.

“I wanted to get those papers to you. I wanted to tour the place. I wanted to see you.”

“Me? Why?” What was with the fires-of-Hell heat level today? July in Vermont never caused her to break a sweat like this.

Jaemus, however, knew how to use that body of his—and his words—to seduce her.

Could she let him?

Chapter Six

The rosy glow on Nika’s cheeks fascinated Jaemus. She fanned her face, bracelets jingling on her slender wrist, as she waited for him to give a reason why he wanted to see her.

Right. Why had he told her that?

Because it’s true.

“I’ve had a bit of a difficult time as of late,” he began, feeling a little off balance, exposed, as Nika stared at him. He dropped his attention to the beastie sitting between them. Crouching, he rubbed Daisy’s ears until the dog’s eyes closed. He let her lick every one of his fingers before standing again.

“There have been some changes I’ve had to come to grips with. Some... traveling I hadn’t expected to do.” He blew out a breath then sucked in a new one. “Taking this job, being here with you now... I don’t know. It feels right. It feels good. Normal.”

Nika’s gaze softened, those pale green eyes drawing him in, and the desire to press his lips to hers nearly overwhelmed Jaemus.

“I still can’t believe you’re here.” Her tongue came out to moisten her lips, and he cursed the stiff confines of Reardon’s borrowed jeans. How did men wear these in this time? Most uncomfortable.

“I said I would take the job when you offered it yesterday,” he reminded her.

“I know, but I was filled with doubts this morning.” She let out a little laugh that put a light in her eyes, igniting something inside him. They truly sparkled like gems and reminded Jaemus of the glowing that happened to werewolf eyes. What would Nika look like if he turned her?

He instantly squeezed his eyes closed. Not going down that path. He couldn’t imagine taking Nika’s beautiful humanity away from her. That would be cruel. That would be something Reardon would do—had done—and Jaemus wasn’t making the same mistake. He didn’t even know if he could change her anyway. He’d hardly had a werewolf tutorial. He had no idea what the rules were.

“No reason to doubt, sprite,” he said. “If I said I’ll take the job, I’ll take the job. I’m a great many terrible things, but I keep my word.”

Without responding, Nika led them back into the post while Daisy plopped down on a mat by the front door, appearing to settle in for the day. Nika turned to face him. “I’ve been in your presence for a little while, Jaemus, and I don’t see anything terrible about you.” Her gaze combed down to his feet and back up to his eyes. He felt as if he’d been stroked though she hadn’t put a finger on him.

How he wished she’d put a finger on him. Maybe all her fingers.

“Give it time, aye. The terrible is bound to come through.”

Nika turned the sign on the door so the Open side faced out. “I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” She studied him for a moment longer. “You’re welcome to wander the grounds until showtime, but I assume you have a costume to get into that you didn’t bring with you.”

“Aye, my costume is back at the sanctuary, but actually I was planning to look around town before the show. I’d like to find a place to stay.”

“Things a little crowded at Silver Moon?” Nika got behind the counter where the ringing machine Carrie and Zavier had used yesterday sat.

“You could say that.” He shrugged. “Know of any available places close by?”

“Is this job your only employment?”

“Aye.”

“And you do recall I can’t pay you much, right? Probably not enough to rent a place.” Her lips turned down. “I wish I could give you more, especially because your acting skills and costume are beyond expectations.”

“Perhaps once things take off again, when your post is the thriving business you wish it to be, you could give a good Wolfman a raise for his services.” Jaemus loved that his words brought the smile back to her amazing mouth. A mouth he was becoming more and more enchanted by.

“Perhaps.” She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment. “Maybe we could cut another deal in the meantime.”

“What kind of a deal?” He was definitely interested in any deals that involved Nika Skarvinksi.

“Well...” She toyed with the big curls resting on her shoulder then shook her head. “Oh, never mind. I don’t know what I’m thinking.”

“But now I want to know what you’re thinking.” He waved his hand. “Out with it, sprite.”

She drummed long fingers on the counter between them. The sound and the movement hypnotized him as he fantasized about those fingertips resting on his chest. As they lounged in a comfortable bed. Naked.

Definitely naked.

“Did you see that barn out back when I gave you the grand tour?” She pointed to the back of the trading post.

“Aye. It caught my eye. Looks solidly built.” Strangely, it reminded him of the past—a time that belonged to him.

“My tato built it. I live in a loft apartment inside that barn, but the lower level is... available. I mean, it needs some work... actually some probably isn’t the right word. Are you handy, Jaemus?”

“Aye.” At least he was in his time. He often fixed things at the fortress the army called home, and he was usually the one who erected temporary shelters when the men needed them. That was why he’d easily turned branches and leaves into a shelter on that blasted island Flidae had sent him to.

“Well, if you wanted to fix it up yourself, I wouldn’t charge you to stay there. It’s nothing elaborate, but—”

“I’ll take it.”

Nika’s gaze shot up to his. “Don’t you want to see inside or something first?”

“No.” Whatever condition the barn was in, it had to be better than being trapped with Reardon. He was trying to work on forgiving his brother, but he needed some space to be able to do that.

And the notion that Nika also lived in that barn made it an attractive option.

She smirked. “What if the barn is mice ridden?”

As if mice are the worst things I’ve slept amongst. Or eaten for that matter.

“I have no fear of mice.” In fact, the mice should be afraid of him.

“What about snakes?”

He shook his head. “I’d be happy to cuddle with them.”

Nika laughed and the sound floated through Jaemus, making him feel like seaweed floating on the water, weightless, carefree.

“Cuddling with snakes. Okay, then. Maybe playing Wolfman isn’t such a stretch for you.”

You have no idea, sprite.

“I have no problems sharing that barn with any manner of beasties.” Or trading post owners with curls his fingers longed to dive into and lips his mouth ached to taste.

Nika came out from behind the counter and motioned for him to follow her to the office. She went to her desk, opened a drawer, and pulled out something that clinked in her hands.

“Extra keys.” She held them out to him. “If you want to get started on the necessary improvements before the one o’clock show.”

He took the keys, holding on to her hand and watching her eyes go wide as she looked at him. “Your kindness is much appreciated, sprite.” He dropped a light kiss on the back of her hand, loving how her smooth skin felt against his lips.

She started to speak, but had to clear her throat and try again twice as he held onto her hand. “You might not think I’m so kind when you see the state of the barn.”

He looked at her for a beat longer, imagining himself taking a step closer, lowering his head, brushing his lips against hers. Her beauty was unlike anything he’d ever seen in Ireland. Fair-haired lasses more than willing to offer him whatever he’d wanted had been plentiful. He hadn’t been one to refuse their advances.

But Nika? She stimulated him on a whole new level. One he wanted to explore, even if his time here was limited.

Jaemus took that step closer, his gaze focusing on her mouth and making plans to claim it. His thumb rubbed along the knuckles of her hand he still held in his.

“Nika?” a voice called from out front.

He jolted a little, dropped Nika’s hand, and shifted his gaze to the keys in his hand. “I’ll let you get to work. See you in a few hours.” He swiveled on his heel and marched out of her office, telling himself not to look back.

Of course he’d never been one to listen to himself.

A quick glance over his shoulder revealed Nika staring at him with an expression on her face that matched the rapid pulse beating in his blood. Had she wanted him to kiss her? What would she have done if he had? Kissed him back? And why could he hear her heartbeat as well? Was it favorable that it matched the tempo of his own?

Puffing out a breath, he said a quick hello to Zavier who had been the one to call to Nika and made his way out of the trading post, Daisy following him. Leaning against the front of the building, he hooked his hair behind his ear then gave his temple a quick rub.

“Gods be damned, pup, I almost kissed her.” The office around them had melted away and there was only her standing in front of him. Kissing her would have been a mistake. She was his employer now. She’d been kind in offering him a place to stay. He couldn’t take advantage of her good nature. He had to keep the boundaries in place.

Besides, he wasn’t staying.

Reardon had thought that too. Flidae’s voice filled his head.

I’m not like Reardon. Nor did he want to be.

We’ll see...

Shaking his head, Jaemus pushed off the building and followed the gravel path to the barn with Daisy right on his heels. Finding a small door at the side of it, he guided the key into the lock and turned. When he opened the door, Daisy bounded in and headed for the narrow stairs.

“No.” At the sound of Jaemus’s voice, the dog stopped with her paw on the first step. “We’re not going to your home. We’re going to make down here my home.”

The dog looked up at the door at the top of the stairs, let out a little whine, and wagged her tail.

“Aye, I know. Trust me. I want to go up there too, but only when your mum is home and only if I’m invited.” It scared Jaemus how much he wanted that invitation.

As his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the barn’s interior, the first thing to hit him was the smell of old wood. He inhaled deeply and for the first time since being banished from Ireland by Flidae, he felt... settled.

Strange. He couldn’t be farther from his regular life. He hadn’t held a sword in weeks. He hadn’t let loose any battle cries, set fire to the bodies of the fallen, counted his acquired riches. The only blood he’d spilled recently had been his own. He wasn’t accustomed to this place or this time and yet, a sense of belonging washed over him in that barn. An unseen, unexplainable force pulled at him, drew him in, made him want to make this barn into something he could call home.

Daisy came over and sat by his boot, her golden eyes turned up expectantly and her wagging tail stirring up the layers of dust covering the floor.

“Getting a start on sweeping, pup?” He petted Daisy’s head then investigated the barn, taking an inventory of the space.

Large windows lined two of the walls, letting in the summer sunshine and creating yellow rectangles on the floor. Jaemus crouched and used his hand to brush away at the dust, revealing wide planks of wood beneath his feet. Some of the boards were damaged, but after replacing them, he was confident he could restore the floor to its former glory.

Thick posts and beams interlocked around him to create the frame of the barn and they were in wonderful condition. All the joints still looked tight. Nika’s father must have been an excellent craftsman for the structure to weather time so well.

At the back gable end of the barn, two wide doors sat crookedly. Jaemus walked toward them and had to use most of his bulk to open one of them. A loud squeak sounded as rusted hinges complained about Jaemus disturbing them. He made a mental note to replace those as well and repair the doors.

He spotted electrical outlets—something Dylan had showed him back at Silver Moon—so there was power to the barn. Not that Jaemus needed electricity, but as his brother had pointed out, it was indeed convenient.

A low wall in the back corner sectioned off what looked like a small, rudimentary kitchen and beyond that was a tiny bathroom. Again, Jaemus wasn’t used to having either of those modern inventions, but wasn’t about to snub his nose at them. If everything worked in both, he’d use them. They looked as if they just needed a thorough cleaning.

“We’ll need a few supplies, won’t we?” He looked down at Daisy who had followed him as he’d meandered through the space. “And maybe some free labor.”

Twenty minutes later, he was back in the barn with Dylan, Meredith, and her bucket of cleaning supplies.

“Holy shit,” Meredith said as she scanned the place. “This needs more than a tidying.”

“If I said it needed a complete scouring, would you have agreed to come?” Jaemus raised his eyebrows at the woman.

“Hell, no.”

Dylan laughed. “Aww, c’mon, Gram. You love to clean.”

“And I’m damn good at it, but this is... this is extreme.”

“If you’re not up for the challenge...” Jaemus shrugged.

A fire flared in Meredith’s eyes. “Step aside, son. You are about to get schooled in the Ways of Clean.” She dumped her supplies out on the floor and waved the bucket at Dylan. “Fill this, kid.”

Jaemus had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. When he’d approached Dylan about helping him clean the barn, the boy had dropped his comic book and abandoned the wolf he was using as a pillow in the grass behind Brandy’s house.

“Sure!” Then his shoulders had hunched a bit.

“What’s the matter?” Jaemus had asked.

“Mom won’t just let me go with you. Neither will Reardon.” Then he’d snapped his fingers. “We’ll ask Gram to come.”

Jaemus had hesitated, but Dylan insisted.

“We can trust her. Gram always wants to help everybody.”

Sure enough, the boy had convinced Meredith that cleaning the barn was a worthy cause. And yes, maybe they’d led her to believe they were cleaning it for Nika, but Jaemus wasn’t ready to reveal he’d gotten a job or a place to live yet.

He wasn’t ready to reveal that maybe... maybe he rather enjoyed Canville, Vermont.

****

He was going to kiss me. That thought cycled through Nika’s head all morning long as she and Zavier used their lack of customers as an excuse to design and type up a shiny new advertisement for The Wolfman Show. Zavier was great with making flyers, and Carrie was a whiz with a movie-making app, so Nika would have a video to go with the advertisement.

All she would have to do next was wait for word to get out and watch the visitors—the ticket buyers and trading post shoppers—roll on in.

He was going to kiss me.

Nika’s hands flopped at her sides. She kept thinking that notion had faded from her memory as she worked on something else and then poof. It popped right back in there and made her entire body tingle. The way Jaemus’s golden brown eyes had zeroed in on her mouth had been... predatory. She was baffled by how much she liked being prey. Not something she would have guessed would be up her alley, but here she was, hours later, still quivery with need over the way Jaemus—a perfect stranger—looked at her.

He was going to kiss me.

“Oh, for God’s sake... ” She smacked a hand to her forehead as she stood at the copy machine outside her office.

“Easy there,” Carrie said as she stowed her purse in Nika’s office. “Don’t want to rattle anything loose in there... well, anything else, I suppose.”

“Shut it, girlie.” Nika hit Carrie’s arm with a stack of the flyers she and Zavier had made.

Carrie laughed and grabbed the stack, giving them a look. “Wow! These came out great.”

“Zavier has an eye for this stuff.” Nika stood behind Carrie and peeked over her shoulder. “I like how he put the faint silhouette of Wolfman in the background and the location of the show in the full moon image was a brilliant idea.”

“Yeah.” Carrie touched a finger to the moon. “You should have seen this project Zavier did for English class. He designed an alternate cover for Night by Elie Wiesel. It was amazing.”

“Smart and artistic. Zavier’s got it all, doesn’t he?” Nika studied Carrie’s face as she absently caressed the flyers in her hand.

“Yeah,” Carrie said again. “I think he’ll make a brilliant lawyer, but art stuff brings him more joy, you know?”

“So why doesn’t he go the art route?”

Handing the flyers back to Nika, Carrie huffed. “His mom doesn’t want him to ‘waste himself’ on art.” She made quotes with her fingers as she rolled her eyes.

“I see. Well, he’ll learn he’s got to follow his own heart if he wants to be truly happy.” Nika also hoped he learned that Carrie’s father couldn’t keep them apart. Not if they wanted to be together.

“What about you?” Carrie asked.

“What about me?” Nika popped into her office to make a list of where she wanted to handout the flyers.

“Will you learn to follow your heart to be truly happy?”

“I’m happy, honey.” Teens. Where did they come up with half the stuff they said?

“Since meeting our new Wolfman, yes, you do seem happy.” Carrie grinned. “That look on your face tells it all, Boss.”

“What look?” Nika scowled and waved a hand at Carrie. “There’s no look. I’m just relieved to have found someone to replace Jared.” And I’m absolutely turned on by our new Wolfman. She closed her eyes before the image of Jaemus’s intense eyes this morning could paint itself across her vision.

But it was too late.

He filled the space between her ears instantly. Ah, shit. Who was she kidding? His image had never left.

“Relieved... yeah, sure.” Carrie elbowed Nika as the two of them walked out front. “Where is our Wolfman anyway?”

“What time is it?” Nika had been so busy with flyers—and daydreaming—that she had no idea how much time had gone by since she’d been almost kissed.

Stop it! She had to get a grip on this. Her business wouldn’t benefit from Jaemus taking the job if she didn’t focus all her attention on getting the word out. She didn’t have time for wondering how his lips would have felt pressed against her own. The trading post had to come first.

Or Robert would come for it.

“Almost show time,” Carrie said, glancing at her phone.

“I’m sure Jaemus is getting ready then.” Nika put some of the flyers by the register and tucked the rest under her arm. “Let’s lock the front door and go watch him.”

“What if customers come in?” Carrie asked.

“They aren’t going to come in before the show, but hopefully after it they will. A few minutes before the show ends, you can run up here and reopen.”

“Okay.”

Five minutes later, Nika and Carrie were seated on the first row bleachers in the theater with Daisy at their feet. Nika explained away her fluttery heart by telling herself she was out of shape and the walk down from the post had gotten to her.

That was, of course, complete bullshit, but she impressed herself with her delusion.

The bleachers looked a little fuller, didn’t they? Nika wondered if word had already begun to spread locally. Surely people had heard about Jared’s arrest by now. Some of them must know about Robert circling like a shark too, particularly because he seemed to be announcing it at Rosie’s Diner. If nothing else, curiosity may have brought some folks out to see what was happening.

I’m trying, Tato.

“Nika.”

She turned around to see Robert had slipped into the bleachers directly behind her and Carrie. Daisy let out a little growl, but that was as mean as the dog ever got.

“Scumbucket,” Carrie said.

Nika put her hand on Carrie’s arm, both loving her loyalty and fearing the kid would rile Robert up more than that vein at his temple already indicated he was riled.

“One of your biggest problems here, Nika, is the subhuman staff.” Robert narrowed his eyes at Carrie as if she were a stain on his favorite tie.

“All right. Let’s everybody play nice and enjoy the show.” She elbowed Carrie. “Got your phone ready to capture some footage?”

“Yeah, Boss.” Carrie reached back to the pocket of her jean shorts and pulled out her phone, wiggling it between them. “Heavy on Wolfman?”

“He’ll be the one to sell tickets.” Nika checked the time on Carrie’s phone. Two minutes to one o’clock. Two minutes to seeing Jaemus.

Well, Jaemus in his extraordinary costume at least.

“I’m eager to see your treasure,” Robert said. “He must be remarkable if you think he can save your trading post, Nika.”

“Remarkable is exactly the right word, Robert. The new Wolfman is remarkable.” She focused her attention on the theater before them, willing Jaemus to show up right now and save her from Robert’s jabs.

Suddenly a lone wolf howl echoed through the trees, making goosebumps rise up on Nika’s skin as Daisy sat up and sniffed the air. The small crowd bristled on the bleachers, many craning their necks to get a better view. That one howl had commanded their complete attention.

“Dramatic,” Carrie whispered around a giggle, her phone poised and ready to record.

Red Riding Hood came out and did her opening lines. The girl had always been good, but she often said her lines in a monotone voice. Today, however, a little something extra resonated behind her words. Something Nika was almost sure was passion.

Hmm. Had Jaemus inspired her as well? And if so, how much inspiration had he offered? Did he go around getting every female he encountered all hot and bothered for him?

Probably.

The question was did he do it on purpose or could he not help it? The man was gorgeous. No disputing that, but did he use that fact for good or evil?

Please use it for good, Jaemus. And only use it on me. Nika realized she had no right to ask for that last part, but she was feeling greedy this afternoon.

Red Riding Hood took her basket and skipped along en route to Granny’s house and encountered Huntsman. They exchanged their lines, but when Jaemus ripped through the trees in all his fur-and-claw glory, the audience went wild.

Wolfman wild.

Screaming, cheering, hooting, hollering. They did it all in awe of the new Wolfman. Jaemus didn’t have to utter a word for them to immediately love him. His costume once again made Nika’s jaw drop. How in the hell did he make it so realistic?

The fur on the rippling muscles of his back was amazing. She felt as if she could reach out, tug it, and totally believe Jaemus had grown that fur since she’d seen him this morning.

And those rippling muscles? Good God. Knowing those were one hundred percent Jaemus and not the work of a gifted make-up artist made a heat build between Nika’s legs. Did vaginas catch on fire spontaneously? Because this guy could ignite that spark even dressed in a beastly wolfman costume. That took freaking talent.

Nika watched with intense fascination as Jaemus bounded through the audience, climbing bleachers and pausing to sniff at visitors, much to their delight. Laughter filled the woods as he toyed with people’s hats, pretended to groom a man with a particularly extensive beard, batted a little boy’s shoelace like a playful puppy, wrestled a stick away from Daisy, and finally dropped to his knees on the bench in front of Nika.

His close proximity alone made her heart beat faster. Did he seem bigger up close? He was a big man already. Deliciously big, but Wolfman appeared larger somehow. The long whiskers on either side of his muzzle twitched as he sniffed the air around her. His big golden brown eyes had a luminous quality to them and when his gaze shifted to Robert sitting behind her, a low growl slid from his throat.

“This is your so-called treasure, Nika? Doesn’t look like much more than an overgrown mutt.” Robert scoffed and folded his arms across his unimpressive chest.

Jaemus’s muscles tensed so subtly if Nika hadn’t been so close to him she wouldn’t have noticed. Even so, when he sprung forward and leaped over her and Carrie to land on Robert’s bench just inches from him, she nearly fell off her seat.

“Holy shit!” Carrie swung around, her phone trained on Jaemus. “Did you see that?”

See a man jump over two people with the ease and grace of a real wolf? Uh-huh. She’d seen it. Could she explain it? Nope.

Where did this guy come from? And what made him want to apply to be her Wolfman? He was ready for casting in blockbuster movies.

A bead of sweat rolled down Robert’s forehead as he sat still, trying to look completely unaffected by Jaemus’s sudden movement. “So you’re a gymnast. Big deal. That’s not enough to save this trading post. I will build a Mr. Sprinkles here.”

Jaemus let out another growl. This time he rolled his lips back to bare a full set of vicious teeth—wolf teeth.

Wow. This guy goes the extra mile.

Nika’s former Wolfman had been a complete amateur compared to Jaemus.

“I don’t think our Wolfman likes you, Mr. Senclair.” Carrie chuckled as she zoomed in with her camera.

Jaemus tilted his head up toward the sky and let loose another loud wolf howl that had the audience on their feet, howling along with him. The energy coursing around Nika was incredible. For a moment, she felt her father’s presence more strongly than she had in a while.

He was there. She was sure of it.

And he approved of Jaemus.

“I don’t give a shit if this idiot likes me or not,” Robert said. “Can we talk in your office, Nika?” He reached out his hand as if to touch Nika, but he never made contact.

Jaemus got between them. Turning so his back was to Robert, he held out a hand toward her. A hand with bulbous knuckles, long claws, and a spattering of silvery fur on the back. He turned his palm up, revealing dog-like pads, and extended his fingers a bit.

Nika stared at that animalesque hand for a few moments as the crowd went absolutely silent around her.

“I think he wants you to take his hand,” Carrie whispered.

This pulled another raucous cheer from the audience and a few “take it” calls.

She met Jaemus’s golden brown gaze and sucked in a breath over the way those eyes of his positively glowed as he stared at her. Regardless of the fact he was in the Wolfman costume, he managed to make her feel exactly as he had when they’d been in her office earlier today.

When he’d almost kissed her.

Slowly, Nika raised her hand and slid it into his palm. It was tiny in comparison to his massive... paw?

Gently—much too gently for a man of his size wearing silver wolf fur—Jaemus closed his clawed fingers over her hand. With a slight tug, he guided her off the bleachers and led her to the main theater area. When he got there, Red and Hunty were standing together, both with a look of what’s-going-to-happen-next on their faces. Jaemus had gone off script. Way off script.

He let go of Nika’s hand and went over to Red and Hunty. He sniffed Red up and down while Hunty maneuvered in between them. Then Jaemus skulked back to Nika and fingered her hair, putting it up to his nose and inhaling deeply.

Those goosebumps were back on her skin, and Nika berated herself for being turned on by a man dressed as an overgrown pooch.

What is wrong with me?

Jaemus pointed a crooked claw at Red and Hunty then nudged them together so their shoulders touched. When he stood beside Nika again he put his arm around her, tucking her in at his side.

“Oh, you want her instead of Red Riding Hood?” Hunty asked with a chuckle that was echoed by the crowd.

Jaemus nodded his big wolfman head and all out laughter erupted from the audience.

“So I can have Red?” Hunty took Red’s hand.

Again, Jaemus nodded and before Nika could catch her own breath from laughing, he swept her off her feet and carried her into the woods bordering the theater.

It wasn’t the usual ending to the show, but she wasn’t complaining.

Chapter Seven

Jaemus couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much... fun. Wait. It was possible he’d never had so much fun. When he looked back on his life, fun wasn’t a large part of it. As a child, he’d always been concerned about getting his next meal. He and Reardon hadn’t played in the streets, carefree like most children. Their mother loved them, but she didn’t know how to take care of them. They took care of her most times.

As he’d gotten older, he and Reardon had turned to questionable techniques to get food and other necessities. Reardon had basically fought anyone anywhere if it’d meant gathering some riches for their family of three. Where his brother had been better at attacking first and asking questions later—while he was counting his earnings—Jaemus had taken extra jobs that no one wanted to do. He’d also excelled at relieving people of their riches and possessions in a more... secretive manner. There hadn’t been a pocket in Ireland he couldn’t pick.

It was in this manner that the McAlator brothers had kept themselves and their mother fed, clothed, and housed in a sufficient shelter. When Reardon’s father came for him, there had been a period of time that the burden of supporting himself and his mother fell solely on Jaemus, but he’d managed. He’d done it.

That was all he’d done though. He hadn’t had time for anything else. Certainly not fun.

Carrying this beautiful woman in his arms after making all those people cheer and laugh had been exhilarating. His entire body felt charged with an energy as potent as the energy he’d always felt on the battlefield, but it was totally different. Good different.

Sexy-woman-in-his-arms different.

Nika wasn’t asking to be put down, either, as Jaemus ran through the woods away from the theater and trading post. In fact, her arms were wrapped around his neck, her sweet face buried in the slight fur covering his neck, her enchanting smell filling his sensitive nose.

Her heart beat a quick rhythm his ears could hear. But she wasn’t afraid. That rapid thump of her heart paired with the scent of her arousal swirling around him screamed that fear was the last thing she felt. If he thought he’d wanted her this morning in her office, that was nothing compared to his desire for her right now. Watching her laugh through the show, seeing that smile light up her entire face... gods, he could look at her and never grow tired of her beauty.

But she hadn’t smiled for the whole show. No. That man sitting behind her had upset her. Jaemus figured that was Robert, the man who wanted her trading post, and he’d been all too eager to whisk her away from anyone who wanted to make things difficult for her.

As much as he didn’t want to, Jaemus slowed his jog. If he kept running, he’d reach Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary, and how would he explain bringing Nika there? In wolfman form no less.

Slowly, he loosened his grip on her legs, letting them slide down his left side, careful to avoid letting her make contact with one very hard erection contained only by the ripped jeans he wore. Somehow he didn’t think she’d be thrilled with the knowledge that a beast like himself was aroused by her.

But she doesn’t know I’m a beast.

She assumed it was all an impressive costume. She thought he was still a normal human in fake wolfman skin... or fur as it were. She had no comprehension of what a mistake it would be to think of him as anything besides a monster.

Nika didn’t release her arms around his neck when her toes hit the ground. Instead, she gazed up at him, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, her pale green eyes studying him. Closely. Too closely.

Jaemus took a step back and she had to let go of him. He was too tall for her to hold on to. He had to shift back to human before she made discoveries he wasn’t prepared to allow her to make.

Holding his clawed hand up, he hoped she understood he meant for her to stay right there. When she didn’t move, he ran back and bolted into one of the stalls in the small building behind the theater. He shifted, clenching his jaw so he wouldn’t let out any suspicious grunts as his body reformed itself. After throwing on the jeans and T-shirt he’d worn earlier in the day, he raked his hands through his hair, doing his best to tame the wildness out of it. He hung the ripped jeans he’d used as part of his costume on a small peg in the stall and exited the building without running into anyone.

Jaemus sprinted back to where he’d left Nika to find she’d wandered back toward the theater. Why had he thought she’d stay if he’d commanded her to? He was the dog, not her.

As he approached her, she turned and stumbled to a stop. “That was a quick change. I figured you’d be at it for hours, trying to de-costume.”

“I’ve got a routine that makes it easy.” Unfortunately that routine involved him being cursed by his werewolf brother.

“More comfortable?” she asked, smiling at him in a way that instantly made him want her back in his arms.

“Aye.” He fell into step beside her as Daisy meandered over to join them.

“I imagine that costume isn’t all that easy to wear, but it’s so amazing.” Her face beamed like the summer sun above them as they emerged from the woods. She turned to face him and placed her hand on his forearm, sending ripples of... something through his body. “You were so amazing. Did you see the audience? They loved you.”

“You’re too kind, sprite.” Why did her approval mean so much? He barely knew her.

“I’m not being kind, Jaemus. I’m telling the truth.” She rubbed her hands together. “I know Carrie got some great footage. You up for working with her to make a video ad now?”

He wasn’t sure what a video ad was, but if Nika wanted him to do it, he would.

“Aye. I can do that.”

“Great. Carrie’s probably at the post by now.”

With Daisy chasing dragonflies around them, they walked up the path to the trading post, conversing pleasantly about the show, the audience, the number of cars still in the parking lot. Nika was careful not to say anything about Robert, and finally Jaemus couldn’t let it go any longer.

“Was that Robert behind you on the bleachers at the show?”

Something like a growl came out of Nika and again it made Jaemus imagine her as a wolf like him. She’d probably have such lovely chestnut brown fur. He shook that vision out of his head. She didn’t deserve that curse, and he shouldn’t be imagining her like that. Why was it so easy to picture though?

“Yeah, that was him, the jackass.” After letting Daisy in, she stomped into the trading post, holding the door for him to follow her. “Came to check you out.”

“To see if I could save your ass.” His gaze dropped down to that lovely ass beneath her skirt. He quickly looked up when she spun around to face him again.

“Exactly.” The frown on her lips turned up into a grin. “And you definitely showed him you could save it.” She smacked a hand to her behind and wiggled a little as Daisy circled around her.

Could wiggling kill a man? It had to be possible. Nika could really... wiggle.

“Just did the job you asked me to do, sprite.” What other jobs did she need him to do? Pull her body up against his? Capture her mouth with his? Bury himself deep inside her until she panted his name? “Does he bother you often?” As he recalled, the man had just called this morning and then he’d shown up this afternoon. That was persistent.

“He bothers me incessantly.” She huffed out a breath as she led him to her office and motioned to the couch.

After watching Daisy sprawl out on the rug, Jaemus sunk into a seat, hoping Nika would sit beside him, but she chose one of the chairs in front of her desk instead. Almost as if she were keeping her distance from him. Had he mistaken her scent? Had she not been aroused when he’d carried her in the woods? He sniffed and could still smell it—the aroma of desire. She was definitely attracted. Did she not trust herself?

Did she not trust him?

She shouldn’t. Firstly, Nika had only known him for two days. Hardly enough time to grow to trust anyone. Secondly, he wasn’t worthy of her trust. He was a killer, like the rest of the men in Reardon’s army. Like Reardon.

Although Reardon has found a way to be happy.

Brandy was pure of spirit. The way Jaemus had watched her interact with her son and the wolves at her sanctuary told him enough about her for him to label her as truly good. She clearly loved Reardon too. So if his brother could find someone who accepted him, could Jaemus find that as well? Did he want it?

“Robert Senclair is like a pesky mosquito buzzing, buzzing, buzzing around my head. Someday, I’m going to slap him,” she clapped her hands together in front of her face, “and he’ll be nothing but squished guts.”

Aye, I want it. I want her.

“I’d be happy to squish him for you.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as Nika’s gaze zeroed in on his arms and the scent of her attraction intensified. That’s right. These muscles aren’t just for show, sprite.

She squeezed her eyes closed and jutted out her chin. “I don’t need you to squish him for me. Not over his interest in me anyway. I can take care of myself there.” Her mouth was no longer turned up in a grin as she folded her arms across her chest.

Jaemus put up his hands. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to overstep my bounds or insult you.”

She raised a hand to her face and pinched the bridge of her nose, shaking her head slightly. “No. I’m sorry. I don’t know why I snapped at you like that. Robert makes me... he makes me... he’s just insufferable. Wanting my land, wanting my post, wanting—”

“You.” Jaemus barely contained the growl threatening to come out with that word.

“Yeah. Me.” Her shoulders slumped. “He can’t get it through his sparsely covered head that he and I will never, ever be together.” Nika’s entire body shuddered. “And not just because I’m not physically attracted to him.”

“But because he’s an ass,” Jaemus said.

Nika pointed at him. “Precisely. An ass. A BIG ass.” She waved her hand. “Anyway, instead of jumping down your throat, I should be thanking you for getting me away from Robert just now. He would have pestered me all day.”

“And he’s waiting to do so out there.” Carrie suddenly filled the doorway to Nika’s office. “Robert didn’t leave when Wolfman over here, so knight-in-shining-fur, swept in to the rescue. He followed me back to the post and has been pacing a worn track on the floor in aisle six.” The girl rolled her eyes. “So one of you come out here and deal with him, because I don’t get paid enough to.”

Carrie swiveled and marched away as Nika rose to her feet to follow.

Jaemus stood and stepped in front of her. “I know you want me to save you with The Wolfman Show so Robert won’t be able to take your business, but,” hesitantly, he reached out his hands and rested them lightly on Nika’s shoulders, “I’m willing to help out in any areas that you wish me to, sprite.”

He braced for her to get angry with him, but instead she put her hand atop his right one still on her shoulder. Her skin was hot against his and the instinct to carry her off again was hard to ignore.

“Thank you, Jaemus.” She patted his hand then lowered hers. “Are you hungry?”

“Most of the time, aye.” Though he was a different kind of hungry than usual right now.

“Good. Follow my lead.” After telling Daisy to stay, she grabbed her purse, taking the strap and putting it around her head so it rested on her shoulder and across her chest. The way it made her shirt press against her bosom had Jaemus willing to follow her anywhere.

He walked behind her, fighting the impulse to jump over her and tackle Robert to the ground. Going a few rounds with the man would release some pent up energy. Actually, it probably wouldn’t take more than one round for Jaemus to emerge the instant victor.

“Nika, I think we should—” Robert stopped speaking when Nika held up a hand, but kept walking right past him.

Jaemus trailed behind her, but not without giving Robert a look that could kill. He grinned when the smaller man shrank back a bit.

“I’m taking my new Wolfman for a bite to eat in celebration of his outstanding performance this afternoon.” Nika stopped at the counter where Carrie was leaning. “Zavier is due here in about ten minutes, right?”

“Uh-huh. Don’t worry about a thing here, Boss. There are a few customers in the local author section of the post and several others in the furniture area, but Zavier and I can handle it.” Carrie looked at Jaemus. “You and I have a date to make a video ad too. I caught some amazing footage of you in action.” She smiled a great big, mischievous smile as she wiggled her phone. “Hey, Robert, do you want to relive our Wolfman’s magic?”

Robert grumbled and stalked over to Nika, but again, Jaemus got in the way.

“I wouldn’t touch her if I were you,” he said in a low voice.

“Where did you come from?” Robert asked. “Wolfman actors don’t grow on trees.”

“Definitely not on them,” Jaemus said, “but in them. The forest has many secrets.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re not a real wolf.” Robert poked a finger into Jaemus’s chest then appeared horrified at the stiff muscles he discovered there.

“Who’s to say what’s real and what isn’t?” Jaemus was having some real fun with his cryptic answers and questions. The baffled expression on Robert’s face only fueled the fire. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, this kind woman wishes to feed me, and I intend to let her.”

Jaemus held out his elbow to Nika who pleased him greatly when she didn’t hesitate to slip her arm around his.

“See you around, Robert, though I’d rather not.” Nika let Jaemus lead her out of the post.

Once they made it outside, she squeezed his arm, bringing her body closer. Before Jaemus knew what was happening, Nika reached up on her tiptoes and dropped a kiss on his cheek right where that scar sliced through his short beard. That light press of her lips to his skin made Jaemus certain he’d need more from her.

Much more.

****

Damn, he smells good. Sun-warmed bark and moist soil and something almost primal that Nika couldn’t name. She’d meant the kiss to be a mere peck on the cheek. A thank-you kiss. Nothing more.

But that hum. The one that rasped out of his throat. The one that reached deep down inside her and started a wave of sensations that undulated throughout her body. Yeah. She couldn’t ignore that hum.

Stepping back, she looked up into his golden brown eyes and traced her fingertip along the scar on his cheek. “What happened here?”

“Almost drowned. Something cut me underwater.” He looked away for a moment, and Nika was sure there was more to the story than that, but she didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. She had a feeling that wasn’t his only scar. He’d mentioned unexpected travel, and if he wanted to get out of his brother’s home bad enough to take her up on her lousy barn offer, something wasn’t right there either. What had Jaemus been through? He’d offered her help, but did he need some too?

“What do you want to eat?” Not that she had a ton of money to blow on going out to eat, but she’d make the money back. Jaemus’s Wolfman would make the money back.

“There’s only one thing I have a craving for right now.” He closed the small gap between them and slid his hand along her cheek up into her hair.

When his lips captured hers, her body melted against his without consulting her. Her mouth automatically opened when his tongue sought entrance and the way it explored made her knees weak. As if sensing her instability, his arms came around her for support and he pulled her closer while his mouth did things that made her head spin, her heart pound, and her core tingle. No man had ever gotten her so fired up with a mere kiss.

Nika snaked her hands up Jaemus’s muscled arms, memorizing the contours with her fingertips. She laced her fingers together at the back of his neck, hoping that if she hung on to him, they could maybe kiss forever. She didn’t care if they didn’t stop to take in oxygen. Who needed oxygen when she could have this instead?

And she hadn’t had this in so long. Too long.

Jaemus angled his head, deepening the kiss and pulling a moan out of Nika’s throat. His lips turned up at the corners as they remained pressed to hers, and she knew he considered her audible response a victory.

Men. Always keeping score.

She wasn’t about to complain, though, because his victories were bringing her body back online. She’d been afraid that perhaps due to sexual neglect she wasn’t capable of getting this aroused anymore. There had been times when she wondered if her non-attraction to Robert was because she was sensually dead.

But Jaemus was proving that ridiculous theory wrong, wrong, and wrong. She was definitely able to become aroused. Her body could be ready for sex. A big something behind Jaemus’s jeans told her she was doing a pretty good job of heating him up too.

He slowed the kiss now, his tongue caressing hers in long, lazy strokes. When he ended the kiss, she actually licked her lips, savoring his flavor like she would ice cream.

“That was better than I imagined,” he said in a low, husky voice.

“You imagined kissing me?”

“Aye. Since I first saw you, sprite.” He touched a coarse fingertip to her lips and she couldn’t stop herself from kissing it. “These are dangerous. You didn’t know they were, did you?”

She shook her head, unable to speak as his finger traced her mouth, down her chin, and along her neck.

“Well, they are. You’d better only use them on someone who can handle their power.”

“Someone like you?”

He cupped his hand on the back of her neck under her hair and lowered his head so his lips were right by her ear. “Only me,” he whispered.

Heat pooled between her legs at his words, his proximity, his grip on her. “Maybe I could make you something to... umm, eat... at my place?” She arrowed a thumb to the barn behind the trading post.

“Perhaps you could simply unwrap something.” He tugged gently on her tank top.

“Yes. That. C’mon.” She grabbed his hand, loving the size of it and envisioning the size of his other body parts.

Quickening her step and churning up gravel as they passed, she got them to her barn in record time. She fumbled with the lock on the door, but when they finally spilled into the barn, she came to an abrupt halt.

“Wow!” She walked to the middle of the cavernous space—the now ultra-clean cavernous space—and spun around in a circle. “How in the world did you get this done before the show?”

Jaemus leaned against one of the stout beams, but the outline of his erection was still there. Still waiting. Still looking for a spot to bury itself.

Nika had a spot. Oh, God, did she have a spot.

“Dylan and Meredith helped me.” He said the words casually, but his eyes were tracking Nika’s movements as if he didn’t want her to get away from him.

Hell, she wasn’t running anywhere.

“Well, it looks amazing already, and I’d love to know your renovation plans,” she stalked over to him, feeling sexier than she’d felt in forever simply because of the way he looked at her, “but right now, we have other plans.”

“Thank the gods.” He nearly chased her up the stairs to her loft apartment, and Nika didn’t mind the pursuit. It made her feel wanted and not alone and maybe a little powerful that she could turn on a man like Jaemus.

Arrowing her arms out to different corners of the room, she said, “Living room, dining room, kitchen.” Then she pointed down a hallway. “Bathroom and—”

“Bedroom?” Jaemus asked, a sexy arch to his eyebrow.

“Yeah, the bedroom is down there.” She chuckled when he rubbed his hands together. She let out a full-on squeal when he charged at her, picked her up around the thighs, and folded her over his shoulder. “Eager, are we?”

“I don’t want you to change your mind.” He poked his head in the bathroom first then continued to her bedroom.

When he set her down on her feet in front of her bed, she slid her hand under his T-shirt and pressed her palm to his abs. His shaky inhale let her know what her touch did to him.

“Honey, a report of a tornado whipping this way couldn’t make me change my mind.”

Grinning, he freed her of her purse and set it down on the bedside table while she kicked off her sandals. Before she could take anything else off, he was back in front of her.

“May I unwrap you, sprite?”

She threw her hands out to her sides. “Have at it, Wolfman.”

Jaemus paused, something in his beautiful eyes looking... disturbed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Do you not want to be called Wolfman? You’re just so good at portraying one. I meant it as a compliment.”

“A compliment?” He angled his head, like a German Shepherd would, as if considering the notion. “Aye, you—and only you—can call me Wolfman.”

With that decided, he started on his unwrapping task, pulling her tank top over her head and dropping it on the end of her bed. He grabbed the waistband of her skirt and shimmied that down her legs to pool at her ankles. When he kneeled before her, she used his broad shoulders to hold herself steady while stepping out of the skirt.

She wore only her bra and panties, both a pale green that matched her eyes. Silver leaf earrings still adorned her ears and a long silver chain with a silver leaf pendant rested between her breasts.

Jaemus’s gaze combed over her, his eyes lingering on that leaf pendant. “You wear the leaf, the mark of a woodland sprite. I’ve picked the right name for you as well.”

Aw, hell, if he kept looking at her the way he was right now, he could call her any damn thing he wanted.

She took a step forward and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt, raising an eyebrow in question. When he put both his toned arms up, she took that as a green light and slowly peeled off the shirt to reveal the same gorgeous chest of muscles she’d seen on his Wolfman. Without the silvery fur spattered about, however, she got a better look at the definition, the sheer strength contained under his skin.

And she’d been right about other scars. Many of them. Some looking as if they’d been the aftermath of a pretty deep, painful injury. She ran her fingers over the ones on his pectorals then ghosted over the ones along his ribs. She hated the idea that he’d ever been in pain.

He put his hand over hers and stopped her exploration. “Old wounds, sprite. From a former life. Nothing to worry over.”

She nodded. He clearly didn’t want to discuss that former life or his injuries. She’d circle back to that conversation some other time. Not now.

Not when she wanted so desperately to feel him inside her.

As she unbuttoned his jeans, she kissed those scars, loving the feel of his skin against her lips. When he raked his fingers into her hair and gently pulled her up to lower his mouth to hers, she wanted him naked right away.

Breaking the kiss, she pushed his jeans down his long, sturdy legs—where she found more scars—and crouched to untie his boots and pull them off.

He stepped out of his pants and with them both still in their underwear, he scooped her up and deposited her onto her bed. When he climbed over her and draped his body atop hers, she instinctively rubbed against him, loving his weight on her. He nibbled at her ear and liquid heat rushed to her core, anticipating, yearning, preparing.

“Gods, you smell so good,” he whispered, running his nose along the flesh at her neck.

“You smell like the wild outdoors,” she said.

He stilled on top of her. “Do you fancy that smell?” He was so quiet, she swore she could hear his heart beating inside of him.

“It’s currently my favorite smell.” She arched against him, her thigh slipping between his legs and grazing his balls.

A low rumble vibrated out of him as he nudged her bra aside and closed his mouth over one breast. His tongue teased her nipple until it ached with need. Ached for him.

In the next few seconds, they rid themselves of their undergarments and rolled back onto the bed together. Jaemus teased her opening with the head of his erection and something inside Nika broke free. She’d been worrying so much about the trading post. She’d been missing her tato so much. She’d cut herself off from her friends as she struggled financially.

Being with Jaemus like this right now, however, made all that disappear.

She was just a woman.

He was just a man.

They’d found each other, and they were both about to get lost.

Chapter Eight

Nika’s body was perfect. Not a scar on it. Just miles of silky smooth flesh that curved exactly where it should. Her breasts were pert and begging to be worshipped. Jaemus was all too happy to grant their wish. The little needy sounds that escaped her made him eager to please her in every way possible.

How did I end up here?

He’d gone from being a brutal warrior to being changed into a werewolf without his consent to being banished by an angry Celtic goddess to being marooned on an unknown isle to being dumped—quite literally—on his brother’s doorstep in the future to being invited by this lovely sprite to take pleasure in her flawless body.

This last stop was clearly his favorite.

“Jaemus...” He loved the breathy sound of his name on her lips.

“Aye, sprite?” Pressing soft kisses along her belly, he cupped one of her breasts and kneaded it in his large palm.

Nika’s green eyes rolled upward as he touched her, more sounds of approval and desire echoing from her. “I want you. Now.”

Her strained words filled him with fire. Every other lass he’d had relations with had never stirred him up like this. Aye, they’d gotten stirred up—especially when they learned he was with Reardon’s legendary army and had riches aplenty—but he’d always felt as if he were going through the steps. Touching what should be touched. Kissing what should be kissed. It was all so routine, so emotionless.

Maybe that was what he’d liked about those lasses. They hadn’t expected anything more than a pleasurable evening. The demands were low stakes and more about earning bragging rights—he in competition with the other men for how many lasses they could bed and she in being able to say she’d bedded a warrior.

This, right now, with Nika was different. So different. A small part of Jaemus wondered if the change was because he was different. He wasn’t only a man anymore. He was both man and wolf. Was the intensity he felt with Nika a product of being a werewolf? Did he feel every physical need more deeply now that he had been altered?

Or was this time so passionate because of Nika? Had she somehow awakened parts of him no one else had been able to reach?

“Jaemus... please...” Nika opened her legs wider and he positioned himself between them.

Whatever the reason, he was taking what she offered, and he planned to enjoy every last second. Maybe in Nika’s arms, he could be just a man again.

He dipped a finger into her heat, finding her wet and ready. As he ran the head of his arousal along her slippery opening, she clamped her hands on his shoulders.

“Wait!”

“What’s wrong, sprite?” He was afraid to move a muscle, wondering if he’d hurt her somehow.

“We need a condom.” She wriggled out from underneath him, which he did not like. The view of her bare ass as she leaned over the side of the bed to a small table and opened a drawer, however, soothed his annoyance some.

When she scooted back over to him, she held up a small, square package. He had no idea what it was until she tore it open and rolled something slick and snug onto his length.

To keep her without child. He understood the precaution, but was a little dismayed at not being able to feel her surround him more naturally. Maybe in time.

And why was he assuming they’d be doing this again? Because he wanted to so badly?

“Okay, where were we, Wolfman?” She grinned at him as she slid back into position under him and looped her arms around his neck. “Ah, yes. Here we are.”

It only took the briefest of moments for Jaemus to find the pull toward her again. Slowly, he edged himself inside her, shuddering at the way she enveloped him. The fit was tight, but as he moved in and out with a steady rhythm, everything felt wonderful.

Nika hooked her legs around his back, allowing him to bury himself farther. She arched her hips up against his, matching his pace and cadence.

“Nika... Nika...” Her name rushed out of him as the pressure built between them.

“I’m here.” She put her hands on either side of his face, pushing his hair back and meeting his gaze. “You have the prettiest eyes. They have a light all their own.”

Werewolf eyes. He started to close them, but she tightened her grip on his cheeks.

“Hey, I want to see them. Don’t hide them from me.”

He looked down at her, knowing he should hide, but not wanting to. Not from her. Not while he was about ready to explode inside her.

They climbed higher together, until on a cry of his name, Nika shattered beneath him. He followed right behind her and they both breathed heavily in a post-climax bliss on her bed.

After a few minutes of panting, Nika rolled her head to look at him. “That was the best lunch break I’ve ever taken.”

He laughed and threw an arm around her waist. Tucking her in close, he played with her gorgeous hair. “That was the best lunch I’ve ever eaten, sprite.”

“We should probably really eat something and head back to the post. You have a video ad to do with Carrie, and we need to get the word out about you.”

“Which word? The word on what an exceptional lover I am?”

Nika immediately shook her head. “No, that word would be best kept secret, I’d say.” She sat up and coiled her hair into a messy knot. “I’m kind of selfish, and when I find something I like, I want to keep it all for myself.”

“And you like me?” Jaemus sat up now and caught her lips in a heated kiss, hoping beyond hopes that she did, in fact, like him.

Nika kissed him back with the same level of fire then broke free, a devilish smirk on her swollen lips. “I guess you’re okay.” She giggled and popped off the bed before he could catch her.

“Sprite. Definitely an impish sprite.”

He got up and pulled on his clothes—as she did—then followed her out to the living room. He hadn’t bothered looking around on their way in as his mind—and body—were focused on other things. Now he wandered the room, noting craftsmanship similar to what he’d seen in the barn below and the trading post.

“Your father was a skilled builder,” he said as he admired the ceiling beams.

“Tato could build anything. He had his own Polish ways of making things, but when he came here and befriended the local Native Americans, he learned other tricks. The two ways blended into something that was uniquely Cezar Skarvinski.”

Her green eyes had gone a little misty, but a smile still graced her lovely lips.

“You must miss him.”

“Terribly. It was just me and him for a long time.” She pulled a picture frame off a bookshelf and handed it to him. In the picture, a little girl with long, brown braids and a black-haired man with the same green eyes as Nika smiled back at Jaemus.

“What happened to your mother?” he asked.

“She died shortly after I was born,” Nika said. “I never knew her.”

Something sharp poked at Jaemus’s heart, knowing this beautiful girl in the picture he still held had grown up without a mother.

“I never knew my father,” he said. What was he doing? He never shared that information with the lasses he enjoyed. That was personal. And yet, here with Nika, it had spilled out of him.

“It’s hard, isn’t it? The not knowing? My mother was a Native American my father met when he came here from Poland, but that’s all I know about her. Tato wouldn’t talk about her when I asked questions. I think a big piece of him died when she did, but he held it together for me.” She took the picture frame and placed it back on the shelf. “Your mother raised you then? You and Reardon?”

“Aye, barely. Reardon and I took care of ourselves mostly.”

“And where is your mother now? Back in Ireland?”

He shrugged. “I suppose. We haven’t spoken in ages.”

“Does that bother you?”

Gods be damned, it did bother him. His mother hadn’t been happy he’d joined Reardon. She’d begged him to stay, but when she asked who would take care of her, he’d known she’d wanted him to stay for the wrong reasons. He’d decided it was time for him to take care of him and only him.

When he’d started gaining fortunes as a hired warrior, he’d sent some riches to his mother with word of his location at the time. She never once sent any thanks.

“Aye, it bothered me, but not anymore.” Nika didn’t need to know that wound would always be fresh. “You have a nice home here.”

“I like it,” she said. “That’s why I don’t want Robert to have this land. He gets more than the land and my trading post. He gets my home.”

“That your father built.”

She nodded. “When I told Robert that, you know what he said?”

Jaemus was certain he wouldn’t like what that bastard had said.

“He said, ‘I’ll build you a new home. A bigger one, and we’ll live happily ever after in it.’” She puffed out her cheeks as if she were going to vomit, making Jaemus laugh. “Doesn’t he realize I’d rather live in a tiny cardboard box out on the street than live anywhere with him?”

Jaemus liked hearing those words. Something about knowing no one else held Nika’s heart made him feel... hopeful.

“Why doesn’t he find another place to build his Mr. Spankles Shop?”

Nika burst out laughing, but Jaemus wasn’t sure what was so funny. “Mr. Sprinkles Donut Shop, Wolfman. Not Spankles.” She wiped at the tears in her eyes. “I’ve asked him that too because there’s lots of other places to develop. He owns a new shopping center nearby, and I told him to put his stupid donut shop there. Robert claims this location needs ‘a place where people can get coffee and mingle.’ Um, hello? I sell coffee and people are welcome to mingle.”

“You just need to get people to come here.”

“Bingo.” She arrowed a finger at him. “Which is why I have you.”

He grabbed that finger and tugged her closer. “I think I proved you have me for more reasons than getting people to come here.” He motioned down the hall toward the bedroom with his chin.

She put her hands on his chest and grinned up at him. “Yes, that’s true. You also offered to keep Robert away.”

“Aye, what else?” He kissed her nose.

“You have a particular talent for making me pant your name.”

“And might you be willing to allow me to exercise that talent again, sprite?” Say yes. Gods, please, say yes.

“I could be persuaded.” She reached up on her tiptoes, her slender body pressing against his in all the right places as she kissed him. “But right now, we have some marketing work to do. C’mon.”

After a quick apples-and-granola-bars snack, they left her apartment and arrived at the trading post in time to see a family exit with bags under their arms. Jaemus glanced at Nika who had an ear to ear smile on her face.

“It’s working already, Wolfman. You’re like a lucky charm.”

Would she think he was lucky if she knew what he really was?

****

Could people float? Could they get around by dancing through the air? Was that what sprites did? Nika was definitely soaring after what had happened in her apartment with Jaemus. Good Lord, the man could whip her into a frenzy with a glance, never mind what his actual touch did to her.

A full body ripple made her shiver as she walked into the trading post with Jaemus right behind her.

“Are you all right, sprite?” His hand rested on her shoulder further shocking her system.

“More than all right, Wolfman. More than all right.” She threw him a smile over her shoulder and stopped at the register where Zavier and Carrie chatted, Daisy sitting beside them. “Hey, kids.” Nika rubbed her dog between the ears until Daisy’s golden eyes disappeared behind chocolate fur.

Carrie turned the laptop she was working on toward her. “Check this out, Boss.” She tapped the keyboard and footage of Jaemus leaping over her and Nika on the bleachers filled the screen.

“Incredible.” Nika looked at Jaemus whose eyes were not on the screen but laser-focused on her instead... as if waiting for an unfavorable reaction. Why? What she’d watched was the coolest stunt her Wolfman Show had ever seen.

“Do you practice shit like that?” Zavier asked. “Because that was like a flawless jump, man.”

Jaemus turned his attention to Zavier. “I run. Often. Keeps me in shape.”

“We can see that,” Carrie said as she let her gaze wander over Jaemus’s incredible body. If Nika hadn’t just enjoyed how in shape Jaemus was and if it was anyone but Carrie giving him the once-over, she’d be... uhh, what was the word?

Ah, yes. Jealous.

Silly.  She’d had one roll in the hay with the guy. One. Amazing. Roll. She didn’t own him. He wasn’t hers. But he does want to have sex again. With me. He’d said so, and he’d said it with such fire in his eyes that she one hundred percent believed him.

“Show me what other footage you have.” Nika leaned her elbows on the counter as Carrie flipped through the video she’d taken. Watching The Wolfman Show had been fabulous, but Nika picked up more of Jaemus’s phenomenal acting and costume by watching it again. The man was a natural for this particular role. As if he were made to play it.

“Zavier had a couple of cool suggestions for the ad.” Carrie shot Zavier a smile, and Nika loved seeing the boy’s cheeks color. She hoped she was around when these two finally got together. She wanted a front row seat at their wedding some day.

“Great. Why don’t you two take Jaemus to my office and work your magic on creating a knock-their-socks-off ad? I can handle out here for a bit.” Nika glanced to Jaemus who had grown quiet after seeing himself on video. “Would that be okay, Jaemus?” He was, after all, helping her. She should at least ask if he minded working with the kids.

“Aye.” He turned to follow Zavier and Carrie to her office, but then he looked back at her. “Not sure how I’m supposed to concentrate on anything besides you though, sprite.” One golden brown eye winked at her, coupled with a sexy grin that made Nika grab the counter behind her for support. He chuckled and the low sound stroked her ears.

He followed the teens, his gait smooth and... wolfish.

Shaking her head, Nika busied herself with tidying up the post. Many items were askew on their shelves, which delighted her because it meant people—customers—had picked up merchandise, thoughtfully considered the products, and hopefully made purchases. She skipped back to the register and opened it, ecstatic to find more money in there than when she had opened in the morning. Sweet Baby Jesus, it was happening. She and Maple Ridge Trading Post were on the upswing.

Finally!

And she had one sexy Wolfman to thank. For many reasons as he’d pointed out in her apartment. Just thinking about one of those reasons had her all hot for him again.

“Some powerful shit...”

“What’s powerful shit?”

Nika whirled around to see Meredith Wendon had entered the post. “Oh, hey, Meredith. Good to see you.” Even if the woman had caught her talking to herself.

“Likewise.” Meredith narrowed her eyes as she smiled at Nika. “Not going to tell me what’s powerful shit?”

Nika shook her head. “Just talking to myself. It’s nothing.”

“You sure it’s not a tall, Irish lad with golden hair and equally golden eyes? Looks like someone who stepped off the cover of a romance novel? I believe I just saw him in here, yes?”

Nika’s cheeks positively burned so there was no way she could say Meredith was wrong.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Or should I say aye instead?” Meredith laughed as Nika covered her face and rested her head on the counter between them. “It’s okay, sweetie. I keep praying for an older version of Reardon or Jaemus to show up.”

When Nika raised her head, Meredith had her fingers crossed and a pleading expression on her face.

“Or for your father to magically reappear.” Meredith reached across the counter and patted Nika’s hand.

Before Nika’s father had passed, he and Meredith had been spending a great deal of time together, and Nika had been hopeful he’d finally found someone who could make him smile. He always seemed happy, but she knew he had to be lonely for some companionship—other than that of his daughter. Sadly, he died before a relationship with Meredith blossomed.

“That was some fabulous cleaning work you and Dylan did in the barn,” Nika said to keep her mind off missing Tato.

Meredith snapped her fingers. “I got that kid trained in the Ways of Clean. Besides, neighbors help neighbors. And Jaemus seemed... inspired to help you. You getting some animals or something?”

“Animals? No.”

“Oh.” Meredith’s brows furrowed. “Then why do you need it clean in there? Tired of looking at it?”

“I offered it to Jaemus. Told him if he wants to fix it up, he can rent it from me. Only I won’t collect any rent because he’s doing me a tremendous favor by being my new Wolfman in the show. He’s fantastic.”

Meredith blinked at her, the woman’s mouth opening and closing like a dying fish on a dock. “Wolfman? Living in your barn?”

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that? He wanted a place to stay. I had a place. It’s all working out.” And I’ll be having more sex later. That was her favorite part.

“Ah, wrong? Nothing... I guess.” Meredith chewed on her bottom lip. “Hey, why don’t you come over tonight? For dinner. It’s been a while and we can celebrate you finding a new Wolfman. I know Brandy would love to see you too. So would the... wolves.”

“Sure. Okay. You wouldn’t happen to be making your famous lasagna, would you?” Nika patted her stomach. She hadn’t had a decent meal in too long, and the possibility of Meredith’s lasagna made her mouth water and her stomach growl.

“Lasagna. You got it, sweetie.” Meredith glanced over her shoulder into the shop. “You still have those beeswax candles? That’s what I actually came in for.”

Nika led Meredith over to the candle aisle and peeked at her office while she let the woman browse. Inside, Carrie sat at Nika’s desk with Zavier and Jaemus on either side of her. All three of their heads were bent over the laptop, lights flickering off their faces as they watched whatever was on the screen.

Jaemus suddenly looked up, his gaze connecting with hers as if he sensed she was standing there. With a slight grin, he went back to watching the screen, but Nika saw the color on his cheeks as if he were thinking about their naked Olympics as much as she was.

“I’m all set, Nika,” Meredith called from the register.

Nika rang up Meredith’s candle purchases and confirmed that dinner would be at seven.

“And bring this darling.” Meredith bent to pet Daisy before she left.

“Today’s the best day we’ve had in a while, Daisy,” Nika said to the pup.

The Wolfman Show was a success. Money would be rolling back in.

Robert had been intimidated by Wolfman. Nika hadn’t had to deal with him alone.

Wolfman had made her toes curl with his kisses, caresses, and skilled lovemaking. He’d also promised there’d be more of all three.

And now she had a lasagna dinner invitation.

Humming, she wandered through the post, making plans to order more inventory and change up some of the displays. An hour later, Carrie, Zavier, and Jaemus emerged from her office, all three of them smiling as if they were quite pleased with themselves.

“You ready, Boss?” Carrie waved the laptop and set it on the counter by the register.

“Fire away.”

Zavier hit play, while Jaemus came to stand behind Nika. Closely behind her. She desperately wanted him to put his arms around her and pull her back against his chest, but knew he wouldn’t do that in front of the kids. Something about imagining it, though, warmed Nika.

On the screen, Red Riding Hood stood in darkened woods with her red cloak billowing in a mysterious breeze while chilling and enthralling music played. A set of yellowed eyes tracked her from the shadows while a flannel-shirted Huntsman chopped wood in the next frame. The words The woods have eyes... faded in on the screen in a blood red color, followed by Prey is tracked. Footage of Jaemus leaping as Wolfman made it look as if he could jump right off the screen. He landed and there was a heartbeat of pause to see him looking fierce in his costume, a hungry look in his wolfish eyes.

Nika knew that image was supposed to spark fear, but she couldn’t help being in awe of it instead. Even in that costume, Jaemus was... beautiful. Did that make her a freak? That she found a half man-half wolf attractive? Or was she able to see beneath the costume now? She knew what the man underneath was like. She’d connected with that man. She liked that man.

After some footage of the audience laughing and having a general great time, the video ended with the words Be our prey dissolving on the screen and then the standard Come visit us at with the address, phone number, and website of Maple Ridge Trading Post.

Nika clapped and faced all of them. “You guys, this is fantastic! Let’s get it up on the website, Facebook, Twitter, everywhere!”

“I’ll take care of that,” Zavier said as Carrie grabbed her things to leave, her shift long since over.

Nika stopped the girl on her way to the door. “Thanks so much. I couldn’t have done that alone.”

Carrie gave Nika a hug. “No problem, Boss. I had fun with Zavier.” She looked back at the boy talking with Jaemus at the counter. “And Jaemus.” But she was only staring at Zavier. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, honey.”

Chuckling to herself, Nika went back to the counter. “Zavier, will you do me a favor and check what inventory is in the back. I want to be ready for the hordes of buyers this guy is going to pull in.” She waved a hand at Jaemus.

“Sure thing.”

After Zavier disappeared, Nika turned to Jaemus. “Is watching you do your Wolfman thing on that screen supposed to turn me on?”

Jaemus’s features softened, and for a minute Nika would have described his expression as... vulnerable. “Did it?”

“Very much. You’re so good at pretending to be a Wolfman.”

“Pretending... aye.” Now he looked a little sad as he hooked some of his blond hair behind his ear.

“You’re so believable.”

He nodded, still sending off a solemn vibe that she desperately wanted to change.

“Hey, I guess we’ll be dining together tonight.”

That made a grin spread on his magnificent lips. “What’s on the menu?” He let his gaze travel from her eyes down to her breasts then down lower, lower.

“Lasagna. Meredith stopped in to invite me over to dinner at the sanctuary.”

Jaemus’s gaze snapped back up to hers. “She did?”

Nika nodded. “Yeah, to celebrate finding a new Wolfman for the show. Finding you.”

“Meredith knows I’m your new Wolfman?”

“Well, yeah, I didn’t think it was a big secr—”

“I have to go.” Jaemus reached the front door in a few long strides.

He was gone before she could say another word.

Chapter Nine

Reardon paced in the living room of Brandy’s cabin as Jaemus sat on the couch, feeling very much the scolded child and not loving anything about that feeling. Meredith was across the room, purposely not meeting his gaze. She’d tattled on him. So much for Dylan thinking they could trust his grandmother.

She’s just trying to protect everyone.

And he knew that. He did, but listening to Reardon call him reckless and foolish made him wish he’d never asked Dylan or Meredith for any help cleaning that damn barn.

“You absolutely cannot let people see you in wolfman form, Jaemus.” Reardon raked a hand through his black hair, but Jaemus didn’t miss the look his brother gave Brandy. “Only in very specific situations should we expose ourselves. And probably not even then. It’s too big of a risk.”

“Not if they all think it’s just a well-made costume, brother. No one will know I can actually change.” That secret would stay tucked away, most importantly from Nika. If he had any hope of being able to see her naked again, she couldn’t know he was a real beast.

Although...

She’d told him his Wolfman costume turned her on. She liked seeing him wild and untamed. She didn’t mind the fur. But if he told her it wasn’t a costume, would she feel the same?

He shook his head. How could she? He was an animal. She only liked the costume because she was certain there was a man under it. She had no idea how deep she’d have to dig to find that man.

No. She couldn’t know what he was. Not ever.

“They might figure it out if they see this.” Dylan handed a rectangular device to Reardon who tapped the screen.

Jaemus instantly recognized the mysterious and suspenseful music Carrie had chosen to accompany the video footage she and Zavier had spliced together for the trading post ad. He’d known that video could be a danger to him, but he couldn’t help himself. He wanted The Wolfman Show to be the success Nika needed it to be.

He wanted to save her and her business.

He wanted her.

Reardon let out a groan. “You jumped like that in front of people? Gods be damned, Jaemus, what are you trying to do?”

Jaemus shot off the couch and got toe-to-toe with Reardon. His brother was an inch or so taller, but Jaemus had a bit more muscle. Right now, he considered using that muscle to knock Reardon into next week. Only the presence of the boy and the two women stopped him.

“What am I trying to do? I’ll tell you what I’m trying to do, big brother. I’m trying to live something that resembles a normal life. I’m trying to forget that I’ve been ripped from my home in Ireland, that I’m no longer a respected, feared, and victorious warrior, that I can grow fur, claws, and a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth with a thirst for blood. I’m trying to grab onto whatever still makes me a human and not get lost.”

He stalked away from his brother and dug his fingers into his hair, holding onto his head as if his skull were about to break apart. He’d been bottling that rage inside him since finding out what Reardon had done to him. He’d been trying to deal with his situation. He’d been pushing aside the fury he felt about being changed, and now it all came tumbling out. He was unable to stop it.

“You’ve turned me into a monster.” He turned to face Reardon again. “And for some reason, Flidae thought it was a good idea to drop me here with you. What do you expect me to do? Hide here? Blend in with Brandy’s wolves like a good doggie? I need more. If I want to get back to Ireland, I have to do something worthy. I have to be outside the sanctuary gates to do that.”

“Is that the only reason you want to be beyond the sanctuary gates?” Meredith asked. “To earn your way back to Ireland?” Her raised eyebrow let him know where she was going with her question.

“I think Nika is my something worthy,” he said. “I can help her.” He turned back to Reardon. “With my wolfman, I can help her. I want to help her.”

“And what if she wants more than your help?” Brandy asked. “Nika is my friend. I won’t let you hurt her. She’s had enough hurt with her father passing away and the business suffering. Not to mention that greaseball Robert Senclair sniffing around her.”

Jaemus’s hands curled into fists at his sides, and he had to fight to keep his claws from coming out. “He doesn’t get to sniff around her anymore.” His voice was a low growl and the familiar tingle ran through him that came before a shift. Hearing Senclair’s name pushed Jaemus into fight mode. “I would never hurt Nika.”

“If you let her get close to you, then you earn your way back to the Ireland of our time and you go, you will hurt her.” Reardon folded his arms across his chest, but his face didn’t share the sternness of his posture.

“Then I won’t get close to her.” He didn’t want to hurt Nika and he wouldn’t. They’d had one fabulous afternoon. He hadn’t pledged his life to her nor had she promised him her heart. They could keep things friendly while he was stuck here, and when he got sent back home, no one would be hurt.

“That’s easier said than done, Jaemus.” Reardon walked over to Brandy and wrapped his arms around her from behind. “Women of this time and this place are hard to resist.”

Brandy leaned back and dropped a kiss on Reardon’s bearded chin. “Never underestimate the power of a modern-day woman.”

Reardon squeezed her for a moment, kissing the top of Brandy’s head, then released her. “If you choose to continue doing The Wolfman Show at Nika’s, at least promise me you’ll be careful.” Reardon held out his hand toward Jaemus, looking to seal the deal. “No one can know what we are.”

Jaemus pointed to Meredith, Dylan, and Brandy. “They all know and nothing terrible has happened. In fact, you look downright happy among them.”

“That’s different,” Brandy said. “He turned me. I wanted this. This is a wolf sanctuary. It’s a good place to blend in.”

“I can blend in over at Nika’s. I need my own space.”

“Because you haven’t forgiven me yet,” Reardon said.

Jaemus shook his head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive you.”

A moment of silence hung in the living room before Reardon walked out. Brandy jogged after him, leaving Meredith and Dylan looking at Jaemus.

“I’m sorry,” Meredith said. “But I had to tell him, Jaemus. My daughter is like the two of you now. I need her to stay protected. I can’t have the wrong people finding out what you all are and wanting to hurt her or worse. You understand?”

“I do. Trust me, being in Nika’s show is safe. It allows me to try to come to terms with what I am now thanks to my brother. I need some space and time if I’m ever going to accept this change.”

Meredith patted his arm and left the living room. Somehow, he believed the woman was truly trying to keep everyone safe. What must it have been like to grow up with a mother like Meredith? A mother who truly cared for her children at all costs. He’d never know.

“You mad at me?” Dylan looked up at him.

Jaemus crouched down to the lad’s level. “No. I’m the one who got you involved in my... my lies.”

“I told you lying wasn’t a good idea.”

“I should have listened.” He ruffled the boy’s hair. “On the positive side, Nika was impressed with our cleaning job in her barn.”

Dylan smiled. “We kicked that barn’s butt!”

Jaemus laughed as he stood. He glanced out the window to see some of the wolves milling about. “Do they all like to run?”

Dylan walked to the window and leaned on the sill. “No, some of them have had injuries that don’t allow them to run anymore.” He pointed to the big brown one that hung around the house more than the others. “That one, Lug, he’s always good for a run though.”

“See you later, lad.” Jaemus pulled his shirt off. A run would let him release some of the aggression building up inside him. Before, when he was a normal human, fighting enemies with his sword and spear allowed him to get rid of pent up energy. He had neither sword nor spear nor a proper opponent in this time and place. Running with wolves through the woods would have to suffice.

When he got outside, Lug gave him a good sniff and galloped around him in a circle as if inviting him to play.

“Aye. That’s the plan, mutt.”

He dropped his T-shirt on the front steps and added his boots, socks, jeans, and underwear. Without hesitation, he shifted into a huge silver wolf and stretched out his hind legs then his fore legs, preparing the muscles. Lug poked his muzzle into Jaemus’s face and neck, urging him to hurry up.

Let’s go, friend.

Lug took off toward the large open field behind Brandy’s cabin and Jaemus dashed right behind him. The two wolves stirred up grasshoppers in the tall grass and tiger swallowtail butterflies took to flight as they passed. Darting into the forest, Jaemus pushed ahead of Lug and headed toward the sound of moving water to the east.

After a few minutes of fevered running, the woods a blur of brown and green all around him, Jaemus and Lug skidded to stops in front of a waterfall gushing into a pond. Tall cattails and grasses bordered the water and some frogs croaked as the sunlight of the day faded. Lug approached the water and after taking a drink from the edge, splashed right in and paddled out to the middle.

Jaemus had to admit to being hot from their running too, so he followed suit and took a running leap into the pond. Water flew up on either side of him, soaking his fur and cooling him instantly.

He and Lug swam for a while, playing seeking games with one another as they dove below the surface and emerged in different spots. This was the most relaxed Jaemus had felt in wolf form. Being with the natural wolf helped him get in touch with his own unnatural wolf.

Maybe it was time to stop fighting what he was. Reardon had changed him. There was no way to change back. All he could do was move forward and live this new life. He had no idea where it would take him, but maybe it didn’t matter.

He was alive. No enemies were coming at him with weapons sharpened to spill his blood on the battlefield. Maybe he could just enjoy this time. Get creative with The Wolfman Show and prove to Reardon that it was safe. Further explore his wolf abilities among Brandy’s wolves at the sanctuary.

See what developed, if anything, with Nika.

As long as she believed him to be only a man, what harm could come of kissing her, touching her, holding her after he’d pleasured her? And if she turned out to be his something worthy, he would achieve Flidae’s task and be sent back to Ireland.

Where he belonged.

****

The night was warm and cloudless so Nika walked to Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary with Daisy by her side. She’d taken some of today’s earnings—which were up from yesterday’s—and bought a triple chocolate cake from Rosie’s Diner that would probably send them all into a coma after consumption. That was fine. She’d die happy today.

A gentle woodsy breeze ruffled the flowing black skirt she’d paired with a black tank top for tonight’s dinner. Her handmade silver crescent moon necklace adorned her throat and matching earrings dangled from her earlobes with silver bangles on her wrist and silver sandals on her feet. She’d wrangled her hair into a loose knot at the nape of her neck and allowed a few waves to frame her face. A light dusting of makeup and some gloss on her lips and she’d called herself ready for the evening.

An evening she wasn’t sure Jaemus wanted to spend with her. He’d stormed out of the trading post so quickly when he’d found out she’d told Meredith about his job and the barn offer. How was she supposed to know it was all super confidential? He hadn’t mentioned not telling his brother or the Wendons. She figured they’d know.

But they obviously didn’t, and Jaemus was clearly upset that her big mouth had spilled the beans. Maybe she should go back home and forget about dinner. Maybe she’d be walking into some family drama she had no business getting in the middle of.

Maybe lasagna wasn’t in the cards tonight for her.

“But I’m so hungry,” she said aloud as Daisy whined beside her. “I know, Daisy-girl. You want to play with your wolf buddies.”

So Nika kept walking toward Silver Moon. What was the worst that could happen? Jaemus could yell at her for opening her big, fat mouth. He could tell her to go home. That she was no longer invited to dinner.

That he wouldn’t be returning as her Wolfman.

Ugh. She couldn’t let that happen. After Zavier posted the video ad on as many social media sites as possible, she’d received fourteen calls about getting advance tickets to the show for tomorrow. Fourteen! She had to do whatever it took to keep Jaemus around. She had to pull in the money to push away Robert.

As she approached the gates of Silver Moon, a few wolves loitered in front of Brandy’s cabin. Nika had always loved the wolves. She and her father would frequently visit the Wendons and play around with the residents as if they were a pack of friendly dogs. Nika hadn’t stopped by much since her father’s passing, but it felt nice to see her furry pals again.

“Hello, pups.” She unlatched the gate and Daisy bolted in, tail wagging as she got reacquainted with Lug, Midir, and Nymph. The others slowly crowded around to greet their guests too.

Nika rubbed between Albi’s ears as Dylan ran over.

“Hey, Nika!” he called. “Is that chocolate cake?” The boy’s eyes widened and he licked his lips.

“It sure is. I brought it for dessert... assuming these fierce wolves allow me to make it to the house.”

He laughed. “Yeah, right. Fierce. They’re about to roll over and expose their bellies to you.” Dylan got to his knees and let Daisy lick his cheeks. “Aw, who’s a good girl?”

Daisy’s tail reached propeller level in her excitement over the wolves and the boy. Deeming her in good hands, Nika freed herself from the circle of canines.

“I’m heading to the house. Is your mom inside?”

“Yeah, everyone’s there. Tell Mom I’ll be inside in a minute.”

Nika saluted the boy and walked toward the front door.

Where Jaemus was waiting for her.

She stopped walking to admire the view. Blond hair was hooked behind his right ear, while on the left side it hung to his chin over the scar on his cheek. That short, stubbly beard encircled his mouth, reminding Nika how it had scraped along her sensitive flesh earlier today. His long, sturdy legs were covered in black denim, and a slate gray T-shirt showcased his biceps and chest muscles. Her memory filled in the abs she knew hid behind the cotton, making her fingertips itch to touch him again.

But would he let her, or was he still mad at her and her big mouth?

He pushed off the doorjamb where he’d been leaning and stepped outside to meet her on the path. “Good evening, sprite.”

“Is it a good evening?” Her voice shook a little over how much she wanted him to scoop her up and carry her off somewhere. What the hell?

When his lips turned up in a slow smile and he reached out a hand to cup her cheek, she sighed.

“You’re here, so aye, it’s a good evening.”

“You’re not mad at me for telling Meredith about—”

He put his fingers over her mouth to stop her babbling. “No. I should have told them all anyway. My brother has always been in my business. I don’t know why I thought I could keep him in the dark.”

“Why did you want to?” If she had some family around, she was certain she’d tell them absolutely everything that happened in her life. She and Tato had never had secrets. They’d talked about everything.

Well, everything except her mother.

Jaemus shrugged his left shoulder. “I don’t know why I wanted it to be a secret. I guess I wanted to make sure I was good at being your Wolfman before I announced it to them.”

Nika nodded. That made sense. No point in blabbing and then failing. “Trust me, you are good at being my Wolfman. Exceptional.”

“And you,” he stepped back to take in her appearance, “are lovely.”

Heat flooded her cheeks and points south. Why did such a simple compliment affect her so much? Why did this man affect her?

“I brought cake.” She took a small step back and held up the box she carried.

He reclaimed that space between them, fingering the waves of chestnut hair about her face. “I had another dessert in mind.”

“Oh, well...” Nika felt as if the sun were still out and beaming on her full blast. “I brought that dessert too.”

Jaemus chuckled and regarded her with amusement in his golden brown eyes. “Shall we, sprite?” He offered her his arm and she looped her free hand around it.

As they approached the house, Dylan ran past them. “Last one in has to wash the dishes!” He giggled and zipped up the front steps.

Nika made a move to catch up to the boy, but Jaemus squeezed his arm to his side, trapping her next to him.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, a playful arch to his eyebrow.

Nika motioned to Dylan whose hand was on the doorknob. “We can’t let the kid win.”

“We can. I have a vision of playing with soap bubbles with you that I can’t get out of my head.” He leaned down and nuzzled the top of her head with his nose.

He inhaled deeply and Nika hoped to Christ she smelled like the peach-scented shampoo she’d used. He must have found her scent pleasing because he moved his arm and slid his hand down to take hers.

“So I guess we’re washing dishes then?” It’d be worth it. Totally.

“And some other items.” Jaemus dropped a light kiss on the back of her hand.

“We’d better get eating then, so we can get to the washing.” She edged him toward the door. “And the soap bubbling.”

Nika led him into the cabin where Brandy immediately greeted her with a huge hug after accepting the cake and setting it on the kitchen counter.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you, Nika. It’s been too long.”

“It has.” Nika squeezed her friend then stepped back to look at her. “Have you been working out or something? You look amazing.”

Brandy hesitated for a moment then waved her hand dismissively. “Just chasing after wolves all day.”

Jaemus cleared his throat as if he were fighting off a laugh, but Brandy elbowed him in the stomach before turning her attention back to Nika.

“You’re looking fabulous yourself.”

Nika thanked her friend, knowing it wasn’t entirely true. She’d lost weight, maybe a little too much with this no-money-for-food diet she’d been on the past couple of months. Some of her clothes were too big. Her cheeks were a little more pronounced than they used to be. She felt scrawny sometimes. Maybe a huge hunk of chocolate cake tonight would help.

She said hello to Meredith who was making a salad at the kitchen counter then accepted a kiss on the cheek from Reardon. She picked up on the look... well, perhaps it was more of a glare... Jaemus gave his brother after that harmless kiss. The smirk Reardon sent back didn’t go unnoticed either.

Oh, God. Do they know Jaemus and I did it?

Nika wasn’t one to have to sex with the first available man to happen by, but Jaemus had been irresistible earlier today. And she’d been aroused beyond belief by him. She’d been powerless to stop getting her hands on him and letting him devour her in any way he’d wanted.

That didn’t mean, however, she was ready for other people to know what they’d done. Embarrassment heated her face, and she desperately tried to think of something else, anything else, besides her huffing and puffing beneath Jaemus. Trying to not think of getting freaky with Jaemus only made her think of having gotten freaky with Jaemus and how much she wanted to get freaky with him again.

Get a grip, sister.

She wasn’t some hormonal teenager with no self-control. She was Nika Skarvinski, owner and operator of Maple Ridge Trading Post. She was a grown woman for crying out loud.

One with needs.

Needs Jaemus could fulfill.

Completely.

Ugh. Getting a grip was harder than it should have been.

“Lasagna’s almost ready,” Meredith announced.

“Good,” Jaemus and Nika said at the same time, causing Nika to look up at him. The fire in his gorgeous eyes as he studied her said perhaps he was experiencing the same internal struggle she was. Maybe he wanted to get to the portion of the evening where it was just the two of them as badly as she did.

Not that she wanted to rush through Meredith’s lasagna dinner. Hell, no.

“What can I do to help?” Busy hands might get her mind off carnal pleasures with Jaemus.

“Jaemus,” Brandy said as she handed him a bottle of wine and a corkscrew, “why don’t you open this, pour you and Nika a glass, and enjoy the patio while we finish up in here?” She gave Nika two wineglasses and herded them both out the door.

“Did we just get excused?” she asked.

“Appears so.” Jaemus grinned. “Do you mind being stuck with me out here?”

“Not at all.” She held the glasses while Jaemus opened the wine and poured.

“What shall we drink to, sprite?” He took one of the glasses after putting the wine bottle down on a patio table.

“Our successful business partnership?” Nika held her glass up to his.

“Aye. What else?”

“Barn renovations?”

“Aye. Anything more?” He stepped closer and lowered his head to catch her lips with his. His tongue sought entrance and Nika willingly allowed passage, loving the possessive strokes and the heat of his mouth. His arm came around her waist and pressed her against his chest as he deepened the kiss, making her heart pound against her ribs. She nearly dropped her wineglass.

When he ended the kiss, he gazed into her eyes. Nika didn’t care if the moment ever ended.

“Let’s drink to more of that,” she whispered.

“Aye.” He clinked his glass to hers, took a sip as she did, then pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’m glad you’re here, sprite.”

“Even if I have a big mouth that gives away your secrets?” She still felt terrible about that.

“This mouth,” he traced her lips with a rough fingertip, “can do whatever it wants as long as it allows me to taste it.”

“Deal.”

They finished their wine and went in when Dylan told them dinner was ready. Reardon sat at one end of the table and Jaemus took up the other with the rest of them filling the chairs between. Nika sat at Jaemus’s left where she could take peeks at that scar on his cheek and imagine running her tongue along it. Now and then his knee brushed against hers under the table and it was as if he’d touched her intimately. She’d never been this keyed up in someone’s dining room.

At dessert time, Reardon served coffee and Jaemus passed out cake. Though the brothers didn’t resemble each other in coloring, they had similar builds, and both moved like lithe wild animals, muscles rippling under their flesh.

Something about Brandy was like them too. As if she had an extra dose of graceful athleticism all of a sudden.

I have to have dinner here more often if it’s going to make my body look and move like theirs.

A little regular nutrition did wonders apparently. If Jaemus kept being her Wolfman, she’d soon have enough money to eat properly again. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?

“So, I cleaned my room today, I helped Jaemus clean Nika’s barn, I read thirty pages of my summer reading book instead of my new comic book, and I did the laundry,” Dylan announced after every crumb of chocolate cake had been scraped off his plate. “Does that mean you guys will take me to the midnight show of the new Captain America movie?”

“Midnight showing?” Meredith said. “That’s waaay past your bedtime, kid.”

“But it’s summer, Gram. I don’t have to get up for school tomorrow.”

“Lad’s got a point,” Reardon said, eyeing Brandy then shooting quick glances to Jaemus and Nika.

Brandy followed Reardon’s gaze, a slight grin on her lips. “Okay, Dylan. Let’s do it.”

Dylan popped out of his seat and threw his arms around Reardon’s neck. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Nika wouldn’t have thought anything would soften a mountain of a man like Reardon, but he put a hand on the boy’s arm and pressed his forehead to Dylan’s. “I’m not sharing my popcorn with you though.”

Dylan giggled and bounced over to Brandy to hug her. “That’s okay. Mom will.”

“Don’t bet on it, my dear.” She kissed his cheek. “Help me clean up here and we’ll go.”

“We can clean up.” Jaemus stood and took his and Nika’s cake dishes. He gestured to Dylan. “The lad challenged us earlier to a race. We lost. We’re washing the dishes.”

Nika immediately grabbed their coffee cups. “It’s the least I can do for inviting me over and sharing your lasagna with me.”

Brandy looked as if she were going to protest, but Reardon stood and grabbed her hand. “C’mon, fairy lass. We’ve been released. Let’s take advantage.”

“Oh, brother,” Dylan said with an eye roll. “That means they’re going to kiss.”

“Disgusting,” Jaemus said with a grin.

“Nasty.” Nika crinkled her nose.

“Exactly,” Dylan said. “I’ll be outside with Daisy and the wolves when you’re ready.” He said bye to Nika and ran out the front door.

“He’s too cute,” Nika said to Brandy.

“Growing up too damn fast though.”

“Maybe not. He still thinks kissing is gross.”

“Yeah, but for how long? I saw him staring at Missy Timbell while we were at Rosie’s Diner the other day. I even said the words mutant and superpowers and that didn’t break the trance.” Brandy rolled her eyes.

“Beautiful lasses are hard to ignore.” Reardon sidled up next to Brandy and pointed to the clock on the stove. “We have approximately twenty minutes to make out. Let’s not waste it.” He tugged her away from Nika while Brandy waved goodbye.

“Guess you folks have this under control,” Meredith said. “The Hallmark Channel is a-calling my name.”

“Thanks for inviting me over, Meredith,” Nika said, hugging the woman.

“You’re welcome here anytime, Nika.” Meredith stepped back and rested her hands on Nika’s shoulders. “Having you around reminds me of your father and what a sweetheart he was. God rest him.” With a pat on Nika’s cheek and a wink to Jaemus, Meredith left.

“You certainly know how to clear a room,” Jaemus said as he deposited dishes on the kitchen counter by the sink.

“Me? They left because you said we’d clean up.”

Jaemus shook his head, his hair coming loose from his right ear, making him look roguish and sexy as he stalked over to her. “They left because they knew how badly I wanted to do this.”

He cornered her against the counter, putting an arm to either side of her waist and feasting on her mouth.

Nika was full after lasagna and cake but not totally satisfied.

Yet.

Chapter Ten

In his time staying with Reardon and Brandy, dinner time had been the one shining moment in each day. The food was a far cry from what he’d been accustomed to scrounging for in Ireland as a wee lad, on the battlefields with the army, and on that blasted island where Flidae had first sent him.

Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary food was divine. Meredith did a great deal of the cooking and everything that woman brought to the dinner table was incredible. Jaemus was convinced she could season a worn leather boot and it’d taste like a feast fit for royalty.

Her lasagna was no different, and while he savored every bite tonight, his focus on food wasn’t what it usually was. How could a man concentrate on filling his belly when a woman like Nika Skarvinski sat in such close proximity? The sprite’s body was on display in that black, sleeveless top and flowing skirt, and Jaemus praised the gods for giving him eyes to enjoy her beauty. The moon jewelry she’d decorated herself with added enough sparkle to mesmerize him. His fingers couldn’t stop thinking about releasing her hair from that neat knot at the base of her neck. They hummed with a need to bury themselves in the soft, chestnut tresses.

Other parts of his body wanted to bury themselves in places too. His tongue, his arousal. In her mouth, her hot, wet center. More than once tonight, Jaemus thanked the gods he was seated at a table and his lower body was covered by the length of table cloth. Otherwise, Dylan would have gotten an up close and personal education about the male sex drive.

And the scent of Nika’s attraction to him drove him wild. He’d smelled it as soon as he met her on the path by the front door when she’d arrived. It was torture knowing she wanted him that bad, but he had to wait until they didn’t have an audience.

While Jaemus dined on Nika’s mouth right now, he rejoiced that everyone had left. It was just him, Nika, and an empty house. The possibilities spun around in his head until he wanted to try every one of them.

Settle down.

He had to pace himself. He’d already engaged in relations with Nika today. How many times was she willing to allow him to ravage her in one day? How much was too much?

A small, pleading noise sifted out from her as he consumed her lips. Maybe too much wasn’t going to be a problem for them tonight.

Nika’s hands wrapped around his waist then traveled up to grip his shoulder blades. She raked her nails against his T-shirt, and he suddenly couldn’t stand that thin fabric standing between them.

Reaching back, he broke the kiss for a millisecond to rip his shirt over his head and toss it to the kitchen floor.

Nika hummed her approval and her hands were instantly on him again, her fingertips skating over his flesh in a way that made him shiver in her grasp. A sexy smirk played at the corners of her mouth as she realized what she was capable of doing to him with a simple touch.

“You unravel me, sprite.”

The glint in her green eyes ignited something inside Jaemus. Never had a lass gotten to him so quickly, so completely. He needed Nika to... to breathe. She’d cast a spell over him or something. A powerful spell.

“I’d like to unzip you, Wolfman,” she ran her hand over the bulge in his jeans, making his knees nearly buckle, “but I haven’t heard Brandy, Reardon, and Dylan leave yet. Have you?”

He cocked an ear, using his wolf senses—senses he didn’t want to have—to listen. Voices from outside reached him and he puffed out a breath. “No, they’re still out front.”

“I believe Reardon said about twenty minutes before they left, right?” Nika turned around to face the sink, but she pressed that lovely bottom of hers up against him, moving in a way that made him rock solid. “That’s enough time to wash these dishes as promised.”

“And play with soap bubbles as promised?”

“Uh-huh.” She leaned her head back and kissed under his chin.

He bent to pick up his shirt, but she quickly grabbed it from him.

“No one told you to put that back on. Be a shame to get it wet... or soapy.”

“Just looking out for my shirt, are you, sprite?”

“I’m considerate like that.” She grinned and turned the hot water on to fill the sink.

In a few moments, bubbles rose up in the sink and Nika’s arms were covered in them up to her wrists as she scrubbed. Jaemus stood next to her, drying each dish as she handed it off to him, but his mind was not on drying dishes. Gods be damned, he couldn’t think about anything besides getting Nika naked again.

When she passed the last fork to him, he let out a sigh. “Thank the heavens that’s it.”

“Impatient much?” Nika scooped up a handful of bubbles and blew them at him so they landed on his bare chest.

“Only when it comes to getting my hands on you.” He used the towel in his hand to wipe the suds away then reached in front of Nika for his own palmful of foam. Eyeing her breasts beneath her black top, he dotted each of them with white bubbles.

“Those don’t need washing, Jaemus.” She grabbed the towel to dry her hands and collect the suds off her shirt.

“What do they need then?” Jaemus had several ideas he’d been thinking about since he’d seen Nika with the wolves upon her arrival tonight. Part of him had worried she might not come because of the way he’d stormed out of the trading post earlier. He’d been so concerned his brother would be upset about him getting a job and making plans to move out—which he had been—that Jaemus hadn’t considered how his hasty exit would affect Nika.

Of course she’d think he was mad. Maybe he had been. A little. But one glance at her and Daisy interacting with the wolves and Dylan dissipated his anger like morning mist over a lake. How could he be mad at her? She’d given him a job, a place he could turn into a suitable shelter, a round of lovemaking he couldn’t forget.

And now she was offering more of that.

And he was accepting.

“Has it been twenty minutes?” Nika asked. “Are they gone?”

Jaemus closed his eyes for a moment, tuning his heightened ears. “I don’t hear them talking out there anymore.”

“Oh, like you have superhuman hearing or something?” She chuckled and lightly slapped his chest as if he were being silly.

I wish I was being silly. He wished he were a regular man. That was what a lass like Nika deserved. A true man. Not one with a beast lurking under the surface.

Send her away. He told himself to shut up and kissed her instead.

She leaned into him, her hands immediately going to the zipper on his jeans. As she made him forget his name with a kiss, she slid her hand into his pants to run her fingers over his hardened length.

Now he’d forgotten so much more than his name.

A growl rumbled out of him, and he feared he’d shift right there in the kitchen. Even if he wasn’t half wolf, Nika could unleash something primal inside him. He wanted to give himself over to it but knew he couldn’t. He had to remain in control enough to keep the beast at bay. Nika would run away if she knew what he was. What woman would willingly give herself to a monster?

Brandy.

But had Reardon found the only woman who could accept that werewolves existed? Was she the only female alive eager to be a werewolf herself?

Could Nika...

Jaemus shook his head as he took a step back and looked at her.

“What’s the matter, Jaemus?” Nika’s voice was raspy with need and it plucked strings inside him that vibrated out to his fingertips and toes.

“Nothing, sprite. Everything’s perfect.” He came closer and nibbled on her earlobe. “You’re perfect.” As a human. He had to stop letting his mind wander to making her like him. That was selfish thinking, and selfish thinking—by Reardon—was what had gotten him changed into a werewolf and banished by Flidae. He would do nothing to bring the goddess’s wrath down on him again.

Or on Nika.

He reached down and put his hands on the backs of Nika’s thighs, lifting her to carry her off to the guestroom Brandy had given him. The kitchen was far too public a gathering space for what he was about to do to her.

Nika wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms tightening around his neck as she held on like a small creature gripping a tree. He was happy to be that tree. Her breasts pressed against his chest and he couldn’t wait to strip off her clothes and give each of them his undivided attention.

After she leaned over and grabbed her purse off the counter, Jaemus climbed the stairs with ease. Nika was barely a weight in his grip, her delicate frame feeling a bit too light for someone of her height. She’d said money was tight. Had that meant she’d skipped meals? Thinking about the way she’d devoured Meredith’s lasagna, that was probably the case. His heart hurt over the fact that Nika had done without food.

His protective instinct kicked in full throttle. He made a promise to himself right then he would be the ultimate Wolfman for her show so money would never be a concern for his sprite. He wanted her every need to be met.

Every need.

He was all too happy to attend to her needs right now. The noises coming from her let him know her needs, her wants, her desires matched his. He set her on the bed in the guest room, berating himself for not straightening out the bedclothes before taking her in there. He supposed it didn’t matter. The plans he had for her would only muss them up again.

“Sit there.” She pointed to the armchair in the corner of the room and gave him a little shove as she dropped her purse to the floor.

He rather enjoyed the semi-rough treatment. When she slowly slid her skirt down her long, shapely legs and stepped out of it, he couldn’t take his eyes off the show. Her black top came off next and he became enchanted by the way her lace purple bra displayed her amazing breasts. He made a move to get up from the chair, but she shook her head.

“I didn’t tell you to move, did I, Wolfman?” She wagged a finger as if scolding him. “I watched your show this afternoon—you’re super-fantastic-absolutely-wonderful performance—and now you must watch mine.”

Hardly a punishment. She was gorgeous. Jaemus couldn’t look away if he tried. Didn’t want to.

She let one bra strap fall off her smooth shoulder followed by the other one. With a quick flick at her back, the bra tumbled to the ground to join her top and skirt. Tracing a finger along the waistband of her matching purple panties, she teased him by gyrating her hips a little, as if slowly dancing to a tune only she could hear. The silver moon on her necklace slithered between her breasts and he grew envious of how close it was allowed to be.

He wanted to be close. Now.

“Sprite.” The word came out on a hoarse growl, a warning that he couldn’t take much more of her teasing. The beast in him was ready to leap at her. His fingers tightened on the arms of the chair where she held him prisoner with only her heated gaze.

“Do you want me?” She pushed her panties down until they hit the floor with her other garments. Totally naked aside from the jewelry and her sexy sandals, she was every fantasy Jaemus hadn’t yet imagined. He’d always been an admirer of women, but Nika was... she was...

Your soul mate, warrior wolf. Flidae’s voice rattled around in his head.

Soul mate? He’d heard the term before from Reardon and Brandy, but never gave it any thought in relation to his life. He didn’t live in a way that could accept a woman on a permanent basis. He traipsed around foreign lands, killing for riches. How would any woman give her heart to a man like him?

This one will.

Jaemus squeezed his eyes shut, willing Flidae to leave him. He was prepared to enjoy Nika. He was not prepared to think about soul mates and forever and true love.

Consider it, warrior wolf. Then Flidae was gone.

“Hey.”

Jaemus met Nika’s concerned gaze. “Aye?”

“Why are you closing your eyes through my show?” She gestured to herself. “I realize I may be out of practice here, but I’m doing the best I can.”

“Gods, sprite.” He reached out his arms and she stepped into the circle of them. He pulled until she straddled his lap. “You are doing an exceptional job.” Grabbing her hips, he settled her more completely on his throbbing erection. “Feel that? That’s all for you. You did that to me.”

Nika’s cheeks pinked, and she was irresistible. He couldn’t have walked away from her even if Flidae offered to take away the werewolf inside him.

Soul mate indeed.

Ignoring that voice, Jaemus descended on Nika’s mouth then moved on to her breasts, pebbling her nipples and gently biting her flesh until she wriggled on his lap.

“I can’t wait any longer, Nika.” He stood and carried her to the bed. “I must have you.”

“Take me.” She flipped over to her belly then got to all fours. With a sly look over her shoulder and her bottom up to him in invitation, he nearly went unconscious with wanting.

The scent of her arousal was more intoxicating than anything he’d ever smelled in his thirty-seven years.

“Do you have...” What had she called it? “A... a condom?”

“Purse.” She pointed to the floor by her clothes.

He retrieved the packet, tore it open, and sheathed himself. With an arm around her waist, his hand flat to her smooth stomach, he thrust into her from behind, enjoying every moment of her throaty sighs.

Jaemus had always thought paradise was just a word, something someone somewhere made up. He was so wrong.

Paradise was being with Nika Skarvinski.

****

Being full of Jaemus McAlator was like nothing Nika had experienced before. True, she hadn’t spent a great deal of time with men over the past few years. She certainly hadn’t done much dating. Trying to survive took up most of her focus. Trying to keep Robert at bay and hang on to her father’s legacy in the trading post had been her main goals.

Shit. I have been missing out.

As she spasmed around Jaemus’s hardened length, absolutely loving the feel of his naked and muscled body pressed up against her bottom, she realized she hadn’t been simply missing out on the company of a man.

No. This man. Jaemus. He brought out feelings in her that she’d never unleashed with anyone else. Had she known he was out there... existing and so sexy... she would have actively searched for him.

But he’d found her, hadn’t he? He’d crashed her Wolfman Show, just when she needed him to. He’d saved her. On so many levels.

He found his release seconds after she did and they collapsed to the bed, the tousled sheets embracing them.

“Better than chocolate cake right there, Wolfman.” Her breathing was still off, as if she couldn’t find her normal pace, as if her body was permanently aroused around Jaemus.

“Cake is good, but...” He lightly bit her neck then licked the sting with his skilled tongue. “You, Nika, are addicting.”

“Like maybe you can’t get enough of me?” She turned around in his arms so she faced him and drew circles on his pectorals with her index finger. How much did he work out? Muscles bunched... everywhere.

“Never enough.” He rubbed his nose along her throat then down to the valley between her breasts as if he were making her scent a part of him. Why was that so erotic?

Jaemus spent a few moments making her breasts super happy then rolled to his back beside her. He slid his arm under her and pulled her close to his side.

She snuggled up to him, loving the way their bodies fit together, and before she could stop it, she fell asleep. When she awoke, a large Irish man was her blanket and boy, didn’t that beat any blanket she’d ever covered herself with in the past?

Nika stayed still so she could enjoy their closeness. His heart beat against her chest and something about the rhythm made her feel in sync with him. A wonderful feeling, especially after being so alone since Tato had died. She realized now that after her father had passed, she’d checked out of life herself.

Sure, she’d been working hard to save Maple Ridge Trading Post. She’d fought Robert off all this time. She’d put on a brave face for Carrie and Zavier. But at the end of the day, she was alone. Always alone. Daisy was great company, but she had needs a loyal chocolate Labrador Retriever couldn’t fill.

Needs that Jaemus could fill. Expertly.

He shifted beside her then stretched out his arms. When he opened his golden brown eyes and blinked sleepily at her, she... well, she fell for him. Hard. It was far too soon to be picturing waking up like this all the time, but she couldn’t clear the image—the desire for the image—from her mind.

This man could be it for her. The One.

“What are you thinking so hard about, sprite?” He knocked a knuckle against her forehead as he sat up and leaned against the headboard. The sheets pooled at his waist and Nika took in the view of his perfect chest and abs. She easily pictured him in his wolfman costume, looking equally sexy.

I’m thinking that something must be wrong with me. Or you. Because Jaemus couldn’t be as perfect as she thought. Could he? She must be crazy. And who in their right mind thought a dude in a wolfman costume was sexy?

She rubbed her eyes, hoping when she focused on Jaemus again, she’d be able to find some flaws. There had to be some. She blinked up at him.

Nope. Not one flaw.

“The longer you don’t say anything, the more curious I am about what you’re thinking.” He grinned, but something in his beautiful eyes looked... unsteady. As if he was worried she might actually find that flaw she was looking for.

“Just thinking that chocolate cake should always be followed by...” she waved her hands over the bed, “this fun activity.”

Jaemus’s eyebrow rose. “Agreed. It aids digestion.”

She elbowed him as she pulled herself up to sit beside him. The sheet followed her up, and she prepared to catch it under her arms, but Jaemus immediately tugged it down.

“Not done ogling?” Because she wasn’t. Not by a long shot.

“Appreciating, not ogling,” he corrected. A big, rough hand covered her breast and kneaded tenderly.

Nika let her head drop back to rest against the headboard. She closed her eyes, but when she opened them again, she still couldn’t find that flaw.

****

For the next two weeks, Nika kept looking, but Jaemus had only brought her total enjoyment. Thanks to him, The Wolfman Show was an incredible success, drawing in visitors, raking in money, making Maple Ridge Trading Post the Vermont hot spot it had once been under Cezar Skarvinski’s leadership. Nika felt Tato every day as she opened the post, greeted customers, sold tickets to The Wolfman Show, and watched Jaemus please crowd after crowd.

He’d been fun to observe as he renovated the barn space too. Good God, the man could wear a tool belt! He also knew how to use the tools. Broken floorboards had been replaced. The entire floor had been sanded and stained, giving it a new, shiny life. He and Reardon had taken the broken back doors off and swapped them out for a gorgeous set of rustic French doors attached with hefty, wrought iron hinges that let light into the dark barn.

It had been wonderful to watch the brothers work together. Nika had sensed a rift between them at that dinner Meredith had invited her to. Brandy had mentioned they’d had some things to work out between them, but when they’d installed those doors, they moved together like a well-oiled machine. There’d been little conversation, almost as if the two men communicated on some other level, and when they’d finished, they’d given each other a look. A familiar one. An appreciative one.

A forgiving one?

Nika had no idea what needed forgiving and she didn’t pry. If Jaemus wanted to tell her, he would.

Once the bigger renovations were complete, Jaemus filled the space with sparse furnishings, some purchased from the trading post. Though his choices were purely functional, something about the way he arranged the pieces in the barn felt homey to Nika. Almost as if that space had been waiting for him.

Just like Nika’s heart had been waiting for him.

They’d continued their flirting, fevered make-out sessions, and sexual gymnastics over the past two weeks, and each time they came together Nika craved more. Having him right downstairs from her loft apartment had been a stroke of genius on her part. It made Jaemus continually... available.

He appeared to enjoy the arrangement as well. They often woke up in each other’s arms, parting ways in the morning for Nika to go to the trading post and Jaemus to Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary where he’d been aiding Reardon and Brandy with a renovation of the sanctuary’s clinic. He reported to the trading post for The Wolfman Show, and he changed things up with that performance on a daily basis. Amazingly, the end result was always a freaking homerun with the audience. Word had caught on that he was the thing to see at Maple Ridge Trading Post.

Truth be told, Jaemus McAlator was the thing period. At least that was what Nika thought. Each day made her more certain of that. She was falling for him. The Big L word all the way.

When the bell on the trading post door jingled—as it often did now thanks to Jaemus’s Wolfman—Nika looked up from the handmade wind chimes she’d been unpacking and hanging on a display.

Ugh. An instant headache birthed itself at the sight of Robert coming in. He didn’t see her right away, and Nika contemplated creeping out the delivery door at the back of the shop, but that would leave the post completely unattended as Carrie and Zavier were both at the theater doing a little landscaping around the space. Nika had begun to look for ways to throw the two teens together whenever she could. Their families might not support their interest in each other, but Nika knew there was potential for something big and right and deep to develop. If she could help that along, she would.

“Nika?”

She glanced to that delivery exit, but womanned up instead. She’d been doing a stellar job of avoiding Robert lately because she’d been... otherwise occupied. “Over here.”

Robert swiveled his head in the direction of her voice. In under ten seconds, he was standing in front of her, lips turned down as she unpacked a windchime.

“Do people actually want these trinkets?” He batted a hand at the hung chimes, causing a cacophony of jingling.

Funny how when she gently ran a finger along the hanging metal tubes, the sound was something so pleasing and calming. When Robert touched the chimes, however, the erratic clanging put Nika’s teeth on edge.

“Well, Robert, considering that in the past week, I’ve reordered and restocked this display twice,” she held up two fingers, “I’d say that yes, people do want these trinkets.”

Oh, if delivering this news wasn’t ridiculously satisfying, Nika didn’t know what was. Watching Robert’s bushy eyebrows draw together in disapproval rocked too.

I win, asshole.

“This can’t last. Soon people will grow tired of your new Wolfman.”

“See, that’s the thing. Jaemus keeps changing the show a little every time. Guests know they won’t see the exact same show if they come back. So guess what? They keep coming back. I have several families who have returned at least three times to see what the Wolfman will do next. We have regular visitors, Robert. Repeat customers.” The desire to applaud or pump her fist in the air was almost impossible to squelch. “I’ve even had people ask about Wolfman Show T-shirts and other memorabilia.”

She’d put Zavier on that endeavor, and the kid had come up with at least a dozen phenomenal designs for shirts, hats, magnets, and the like. Nika was investigating companies to make the products and working out the financials.

Because I have money to invest in new merchandise. Finally. She wasn’t desperate anymore. She was what Tato had always been.

Successful.

And she owed so much of that success to Jaemus. Fortunately, she’d made enough in the time he’d worked for her to increase his pay, but he didn’t seem to care about the money one way or the other.

“Working here has brought me so much more than money, sprite,” he’d said to her yesterday. “You’ve given me a chance to do some good, and I’m happy to do it, but getting to spend time with you is the biggest reward.”

Sigh. For such a big, alpha-looking man, he often said the sweetest things to her.

There were a great many things he didn’t say to her, though. Like why he’d shown up in Vermont in the first place, where he’d been before Vermont, what had caused that tension between him and Reardon, why he never answered questions about his Wolfman costume or let her know ahead of time how he’d be changing up the show. She knew little of his past aside from the fact that his mother had been his only parent and not a very good one. She’d finally reviewed his application form last week and the only thing she learned was he’d been a soldier—no big surprise from the looks of him—and he’d apparently served under Reardon. That may have been the source of the distance between the brothers, but again, Nika didn’t have any of the details.

And she wouldn’t beg for them. Maybe he didn’t tell her for a reason. Maybe some of these topics were difficult to discuss. Painful. Things Jaemus wanted to leave in the past. In regards to the show, perhaps he didn’t know how he’d alter his performance until he suited up, gauged the crowd, and got out there on the stage. Actors had their own processes, right? The way he exercised his craft was his own business.

So Nika enjoyed the physical intimacy she shared with Jaemus and hoped, in time, other forms of closeness would emerge. She wasn’t in a rush. She had time. She wasn’t going anywhere now that the trading post was doing so well.

And Jaemus? Well, she hoped he wasn’t going anywhere either.

Chapter Eleven

Jaemus threw a stick to Daisy and the dog galloped after it as if it was her life’s mission. She was a sloppy runner, her ears flapping out to her sides, but she never failed to bring that stick back to him and drop it at his feet. Her big eyes pleaded for him to throw it again. And again. And again.

“We’ve been at this for twenty minutes, pup. You’ve got to be getting tired.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

A solid tail wag told him she could go all day.

“Well, I’m getting tired.” He threw the stick again then turned back to the barn to clean up the tools he’d used installing a light fixture in the kitchen.

Living in Nika’s barn was turning out to be a wonderful idea. Jaemus loved sharing an address with his sprite. Being able to simply knock on her apartment door and invite her down into the barn was... convenient.

The fact that Nika never turned down such invitations was also a lovely thing.

He’d had the opportunity to worship every inch of her amazing body, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to repeat the journey over and over again. Each time they made love, he discovered something else he liked about her. How flexible her body was. How long her legs were. How her eyes glinted like dewy sunlit grass when she was aroused. How she made noises that turned him rock hard when he kissed the quartet of freckles on the back of her right thigh.

How she knew exactly where to touch him to make him forget he’d lost his humanity. At every turn, Nika made him feel more like a man and less like the beast Reardon had turned him into. She was smart and funny and caring, and he... well, he loved her.

Soul mate.

He was beginning to think Flidae was right. Nika Skarvinski could be his soul mate, his one true love.

But what should I do about that?

Frowning, he stowed his tools then headed for the theater’s dressing room with Daisy trotting alongside him. It was almost show time and that was something he didn’t have any questions about. Playing the Wolfman allowed him to expend the pent up energy he had swirling around inside him since being turned. He didn’t need to shift all the way to wolf in order to find balance, which pleased him greatly. The less time he spent on four legs the better. In fact, since moving into Nika’s barn, he hadn’t shifted to full wolf at all.

As he approached the dressing room, Daisy let out a low growl and took off like an arrow toward the trading post. Jaemus paused, sniffed the air, and tuned his ears to everything around him. People finding seats on the bleachers made a shuffling and squeaking sound. The pop-pop-pop of the popcorn machine created its own beat. The familiar natural noises of the woods encircled him.

He was about to ignore Daisy’s crazy antics when he heard it. An agitated male voice followed by an anxious female one.

Robert Senclair. And he was bothering Nika.

Hell, no. Not on Jaemus’s watch. His sprite shouldn’t have to deal with a bastard like Senclair. No one should.

After jogging toward the trading post and entering, Jaemus immediately smelled Robert, a mix of expensive fabrics, tangy and unpleasant cologne, and something mildly minty trying its best to cover up garlic. Following the scent, he found the man pressed against Nika along the back wall near the wind chime display.

A growl escaped before Jaemus could stop it. Daisy blew right into intruder-level barking beside him, and in three steps, Jaemus was behind Robert.

“You’ve got one second to back off her,” he rasped, snapping fingers to make Daisy stop barking. “Fail to comply and things will get ugly.”

Robert glared over his shoulder, not creating the distance from Nika as requested. “I was here first, Wolfman.”

Nika’s wide eyes were all the signal Jaemus needed.

He clamped a hand onto Robert’s shoulder and ripped the man off her with little effort. Robert tried to turn around to face Jaemus, but he wasn’t afforded that chance. Instead, Jaemus pushed Robert into the wall the bastard had been pinning Nika against, taking great pleasure in using his free hand to grind the smaller man’s cheek into the plaster.

“You may have been here first, but I’m here now. Now is what matters.” Jaemus lowered his head so he could hiss in Robert’s ear. “If you ever put your hands on Nika again, my hands will find their way around your neck where they will squeeze. I will receive endless satisfaction listening to you struggle for air, knowing that you will not get any. Not in time to save you.”

He pulled Robert’s head back a little then knocked it into the wall again, making sure his words had sunk in.

“I’m going to let you go and you’re going to leave. We won’t be seeing you again, will we, Mr. Senclair?”

Robert shook his head. As much as he could anyway.

“I’m relieved that we understand each other.” Jaemus let him go.

Robert made a big show of straightening his polo shirt and smoothing the wisps of hair barely covering the top of his head. With a glance at Nika that Jaemus didn’t like, he marched out of the trading post, but not without Daisy snarling at him again.

“Are you all right, sprite?” Jaemus gathered Nika in his arms when she ran to him. “He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He stepped back and cupped her cheeks, his eyes searching her face for any signs of pain.

“N-no,” she stammered. “But this time I thought he was going to.” She shuddered in his hold, and that made Jaemus want to run out to the parking lot and use his warrior skills on Robert.

If only I had my sword...

He ran a hand over Nika’s hair and rested his chin on the top of her head. “He won’t lay a finger on you, Nika. I’ll see to that.”

She craned her head back to look into his eyes. “Are you going to follow me around everywhere to make sure Robert stays away?” A shaky smile turned up her lips.

“Aye, I like that plan.” He kissed her forehead.

“You’ll get sick of being with me that much.”

“Doubtful, sprite. Very doubtful.” He teased her lips and the kiss immediately sparked a need to be inside her. “Do you realize that after we’ve spent hours and hours together, when you leave, I instantly want you back beside me?”

Her features softened, all the panic and fear of Robert gone. “Oh, Jaemus. The things you say.” She traced her fingertip along his lips.

“The things I say are all true.” He bit her finger, then sucked it into his mouth, running his tongue along its length until Nika closed her beautiful eyes and released a soft moan.

When she opened her eyes, she slid her hands up his arms and clasped them at the back of his neck. “Want to know something else that’s true?”

Dropping a kiss on her nose, he nodded.

Nika’s face grew serious, a screen of uncertainty between them despite how she was pressed up against him. Where was his normally confident sprite?

“What else is true?” Now he had to know even if he was afraid the truth might not be something he wanted to hear. What if the truth was something about not wanting to be with him anymore? What if the truth was that she knew what he was hiding from her? What if the truth was she knew he was a werewolf and was repulsed by the notion?

Suddenly, Jaemus’s entire chest ached.

“I love you.” Nika’s voice was soft, but he’d heard the three words. Three words that erased that ache in his chest as soon as they were uttered.

His sprite loved him.

He squeezed his arms around her and probably damn near crushed her, but he couldn’t help himself. “I love you too, Nika. I’ve never loved anyone as I love you.”

She hugged him as aggressively. “When Brandy found Reardon, I remember her calling him her soul mate. I politely listened to her go on and on about it, but the Inside Me—you know, the one that exists only in my head—rolled her eyes. I didn’t believe such a thing existed. One perfect match? Sounded ridiculous.”

“But it isn’t, is it? I thought the same, but now... gods be damned, now I don’t think I could bear it if you weren’t mine, sprite.”

“Don’t worry about that happening, Wolfman. I want to be yours.”

“Soul mates.” Jaemus cupped Nika’s cheek and poured all his feelings, all of himself, into a deep kiss.

And if this had been the moment to tell her what he really was, he happily ignored that fact while carrying her off to her office and celebrating their love for each other. There’d be a better time to tell her.

If he had to tell her at all.

Twenty minutes later, Jaemus was in wolfman form, chasing Hunty around the theater stage. He’d carefully wrapped his claws around Hunty’s suspenders and was giving them a good yank, careful not to use his full strength and send the other man sprawling back. The audience went hysterical over his antics and he dined on their joviality, loving the roars of laughter and the overflowing bleachers and the discussions these people were sure to have with their friends and family when they left. Discussions that would bring more visitors. Discussions that would continue to make Maple Ridge Trading Post thrive.

Thrive for Nika.

Jaemus would do anything to make Nika happy. If prancing around a woodland stage in wolfman form made her business a success, he’d do it. If threatening Robert Senclair kept her safe from the bastard’s nonsense, he’d do that too. If threats weren’t enough, Jaemus would take it to the next level. He’d used his warrior skills to gain riches. Using them to defend Nika, however, was a much better cause.

Aye, it is, warrior wolf, Flidae whispered in his head. I would consider it doing something worthy...

Jaemus let Huntsman’s suspenders snap to the man’s back as he considered Flidae’s words.

I don’t want to go back to Ireland. He hoped Flidae could hear him. Would hear him. He and Nika had professed their love for each other, their desire to be together. He couldn’t leave now. He didn’t want to leave ever. Being with Nika made him forget he wasn’t from her time. He’d made himself at home here.

With her.

I decide your fate, warrior wolf. I alone.

But Reardon had been allowed to stay.

Not without a fight, Jaemus McAlator. Not without proving his place was with his mate.

So there was hope, and he would latch onto that hope with everything he had.

The audience had grown quiet as he’d stopped his performance to discuss his fate with the Celtic goddess invading his head. Small children in the front row looked at him with wide eyes, waiting for his next actions.

Right. He had a show to finish here. Finish for Nika. His soul mate. That, above all else, had to drive everything he did.

He grabbed Red Riding Hood’s cloak. With a slight tug, it fell free of Red and Jaemus put it on, pretending to struggle with it and the fact that it was many sizes too small for him. When he’d gotten the scrap of red velvet wrapped around his head and shoulders, he twitched his whiskers and put his claws on his hips, trying to impersonate a woman. He tiptoed over to Hunty and ran a gnarled hand over the man’s biceps, looking as if he were impressed.

Fortunately, Red and Hunty had become masterful improvisers, able to jump right in to whatever Jaemus threw at them. Red stomped her feet and folded her arms across her chest as if she were jealous of Wolfman.

As the audience chuckled again, Jaemus felt a tap on his shoulder. When he turned away from Hunty, Red wagged a finger at him. “Go find someone your own size, hairball. The huntsman is mine.”

A roar of laughter erupted from the bleachers and the show was back on track. Jaemus finished up with his usual flair, Red and Hunty making it easy for him to toy with the audience.

As the visitors cleared out after the show, Jaemus headed for the dressing room. A scent reached him, however, making him stop and scan the dispersing crowd.

At the fringe, Robert stood, hands in his pockets. When Jaemus started for him, the man joined the crowd and headed toward the parking lot.

Jaemus couldn’t go after the man in wolfman form. It would draw too much attention and he couldn’t be sure his humanity was strong enough in a half-man, half-wolf state of being. He had things he wanted to do to Robert Senclair and none of them were civilized.

Instead, Jaemus kept his sharp eyes focused on the man in his fancy shoes as he climbed into his fancy car—both far too fancy for Vermont dirt roads—and left the Maple Ridge Trading Post parking lot.

The urge to see Nika made Jaemus head to the dressing room, shift back to human, and run up to the trading post. If he found out Robert had been harassing her while he was doing The Wolfman Show, he’d make good on his promise to squeeze the life out of the bastard.

****

“If Robert comes in, call me. I’ll be next door at the sanctuary,” Nika said to Zavier and Carrie. Yesterday, Jaemus had gotten rid of Robert, but he also told her the jackass had been hanging around during The Wolfman Show even after Jaemus’s threat. He hadn’t come back to the post, but Nika didn’t trust the idiot to stay away for good. Considering that most of the town would be at Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary’s Annual Growls and Grub Picnic, Nika wanted to make sure her two dedicated teen employees had a way to contact her should Robert get incredibly stupid.

“Don’t worry about anything,” Carrie said. “Go have fun with your boyfriend.” She waggled her eyebrows as she emphasized the word.

“My incredibly hot boyfriend,” Nika corrected.

“Aw, it’s no fun when you don’t get all riled up, Boss.” Carrie pouted.

“What’s to get riled up about? Jaemus is my boyfriend.” Nika leaned against the counter near the register and motioned with her finger for Carrie to come closer. “We said The Words to each other yesterday.”

Carrie squealed and wrapped her arms around Nika’s shoulders, almost pulling her across the counter.

“What words?” Zavier came over from the maple syrup display he’d been restocking.

Carrie released Nika and put her hands on her hips. She regarded Zavier as if the boy was from another planet. “The words, Zavier.”

Zavier looked to Nika then back to Carrie. “Still not following you.”

Carrie puffed out an impatient breath then rolled her eyes. “Boys.”

“Sometimes they need diagrams.” Nika patted Carrie’s forearm.

“Surrounded by twinkle lights and blinking arrows.” Carrie rolled her eyes as she turned to Zavier. “What three words could possibly make a woman super excited?”

Zavier furrowed his brows then grinned. “I did laundry.”

Nika barked out a laugh. “That’s a good start, kid.” She grabbed Zavier’s wrist and tugged him closer to the counter. “I’m going to do you a solid and clue you in, okay?”

“I wish someone would.” Zavier focused his attention on Nika as if she were about to give him the secret to how women worked. Maybe she was.

“I love you. Those are the words every woman wants to hear from the man she loves.”

Nika didn’t miss the quick glance the teens gave each other and it warmed her heart. A definite connection existed between them and it had grown stronger since she’d purposely put them on little projects together. It was just a matter of time before one of them made the first official move and stopped worrying about what their parents or anyone else thought.

Zavier blinked and cleared his throat. “I’ll have to remember that.” He arrowed a thumb to the syrup display. “I’m going in the back to get more bottles.”

Carrie and Nika watched him walk away, but Carrie’s sigh made Nika turn to face the girl.

“Something on your mind, honey?”

Nika dodged the flyer Carrie balled up and hummed at her.

“Aren’t you late for a picnic with your incredibly hot boyfriend?”

Jaemus entered the trading post while Carrie’s question still hung in the air. And shit, hot was totally the right word for him. In tan cargo shorts and a white Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary T-shirt with brown work boots on his feet, Jaemus was rugged and sexy and... delectable. A pair of sunglasses sat atop his head, corralling his blond hair away from his perfect face. Nika had to stop herself from raising her hand to fan her own face. As soon as his gaze landed on her, the temperature in the air-conditioned space soared to a fiery level. A hand fan wasn’t going to be enough to cool her off.

“Ready, sprite?”

“Yes.” She looked back at Carrie. “Remember, only a phone call away.” She waved her cell phone she’d picked up from the counter.

“Remember,” Carrie said, using the same tone Nika had used, “have fun and stop worrying.” She glanced at the clock on the wall behind her. “Besides, we close in two hours. What could possibly happen?”

Nika didn’t want to think of any possibilities. Carrie was right. She was worrying for nothing. Today was a great day for a picnic with Brandy’s wolves and Jaemus, her incredibly hot boyfriend.

With a wave, she let Jaemus tug her out of the trading post. Lowering his sunglasses as she donned her own, he picked up a basket from the sidewalk out front.

“Do I want to know what you packed for our grub?” She peeked into the basket, but he shifted it to his other hand where she couldn’t see.

“I packed snacks fit for wolves,” he said. “Raw meat, fresh roadkill, the remains of woodland creatures who met unfortunate ends.”

Nika stuck her tongue out. “Ick. I’d like the vegetarian option please... or the all-chocolate menu. That would work.”

“You’re sweet enough without the sweets.” He dropped a kiss on her nose then nudged her into a walk toward the woods between the trading post and the sanctuary with Daisy following along beside them.

The day was an August winner. Tons of sun, warm temperatures, stretches of perfect blue sky, so much green filling the woods, and the deep summer scent of various wildflowers. Winter could be brutal in Vermont, but summer made up for it.

And enjoying this weather with her hand firmly surrounded by Jaemus’s only made it better.

Nika cuddled in at his side, wrapping her arms around his muscled one and resting her head on his shoulder as they walked.

“And what’s this all about?” He leaned his head against hers.

Inhaling a fragrance that was all Jaemus and savoring it, Nika said, “I’m just happy.”

“Picnicking in the woods makes you happy?”

“Sure, but picnicking in the woods with you makes me even happier.” She gave his arm another squeeze.

“Doing anything with you makes me happy.”

“We’d better get all this sappiness out of us before we arrive.” Nika knocked her hip against him and wondered how long proper social etiquette required them to stay. While picnicking with Jaemus would be fun, she could think of other things that would be... more fun.

“I make no promises. You bring out the sap in me, sprite.” He brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed the back of it, his warm lips igniting her instantly. How could he have that effect on her? What was it about him?

Everything.

When they arrived at the sanctuary, the event was in full swing. Guests loitered around blankets stretched out in the open field behind Brandy’s cabin, and some of her wolves weaved between everyone, checking out picnic baskets, playing with children, and generally allowing people to enjoy the majesty of the animals Brandy worked so hard to protect.

Lug was the first to greet Nika and Jaemus with a gentle headbutt to Jaemus’s knees.

“Hello, friend,” he said, scratching between the brown wolf’s large ears.

Daisy immediately sniffed Lug, her tail wagging a salutation. Lug sniffed her back, his tail whipping just as much as the dog’s.

“Sometimes I think these two have a thing for each other,” Nika said, taking her turn petting Lug.

“Lug would make a fine mate. He takes care of everybody at the sanctuary and puts others first.” Jaemus spoke as if he knew the wolf on a deeper level. Almost as if he’d had conversations with the creature.

Nika smiled at the vision of Jaemus and Lug sitting down to a bottle of beer together and shooting the shit on a Friday night.

“Where do you want to set up?” he asked.

“Anywhere is fine with me.” Nika motioned to the house. “I’m going to find Brandy and see what I can do to help.”

Jaemus nodded. “Once I put down our stuff, I’m heading for the grilling area.”

“To help Reardon?”

“To help myself to some meat.” He grinned as Nika shook her head.

“Always thinking like a carnivore.”

“Not always.” He gaze intensified as he focused on her. “I like to taste lots of things.”

Nika loved being regarded the way a starving man would survey a buffet. It made her feel important, wanted, loved.

“Hey, when did you get here?” Dylan ran over to them, a soggy rope toy in his hands with Midir’s jaws attached to the other end. She let out little growls as the boy tugged and pretended to steal the toy.

“We arrived just a few moments ago,” Nika said. “Is your mom inside?”

Dylan nodded, gave Daisy a pat, and wrenched the rope toy out of Midir’s mouth. He waved it at Daisy then hurled it away from the guests. Daisy, Lug, and Midir all took off after it.

“Daisy doesn’t have a shot at getting that.” Nika watched as her dog ran sloppily after the two graceful wolves.

“Nope, but it doesn’t stop her from trying,” Dylan said. “That’s what counts.” The boy latched onto Jaemus’s arm. “Put your blanket near mine and Gram’s.”

Nika’s heart warmed as Jaemus and Dylan walked away together. Dylan chatted happily as Jaemus laughed along, and a quick image of a blond-headed, younger version of Jaemus popped into her head.

Where did that come from?

She didn’t expend too much energy thinking about having children. She’d had enough trouble taking care of herself after Tato died. However, now that the trading post was making money again, maybe having a kid or two wasn’t such a crazy notion. From the looks of things, Jaemus had some superior DNA she wouldn’t mind mixing with hers. At thirty-five, however, if Nika was going to explore such a possibility, she didn’t have much time to spare.

But did Jaemus want kids? He’d never said anything one way or the other, but they hadn’t delved into such conversations. Most of their relationship had existed in the here and now. Neither one of them talked much about their pasts or speculated about the future. He got along fine with Dylan. Jaemus was certainly good at entertaining children as indicated by his Wolfman performances. He’d most likely make an excellent father.

Stepping into Brandy’s cabin, Nika filed those thoughts away for now. They were far too heavy for a Growls and Grub Picnic on a sunny August afternoon. She’d let them circulate in her head before giving voice to any of them with Jaemus. She really didn’t want to make him feel pressured or anything. What they shared right now was more than she’d ever dreamed she’d have.

She could be content with where they were. She didn’t need more, although more Jaemus was always a good idea.

“Brandy?” she called as she closed the door behind her.

“In here.”

Nika navigated to the kitchen where Brandy’s counters were full of platters stacked high with appetizers. “Holy cow, Brandy. Most of us brought picnic baskets full of food.”

Brandy rolled her eyes. “I know. I know. I do this every year. I have trouble judging when enough food is enough food.” She waved her hands. “Help me take it all out to the patio?”

The two women spent the next twenty minutes fussing with platters and arranging the spread on Brandy’s patio. As soon as Brandy gave the all clear, the guests descended on the appetizers, devoured whatever Reardon delivered from the grill, and topped everything off with items from their own baskets.

To say the afternoon was a feeding frenzy would be to downplay the entire event. With food, games, wolf interactions, a lesson in wolf science from Brandy’s partner, Dr. Parker Daniels, and great conversations with townspeople—many centered on the upswing in business at Maple Ridge Trading Post—Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary had pulled off another successful Growls and Grub Picnic.

As the last of the guests left, Jaemus, Dylan, and Nika played a rousing game of fetch with Daisy and Lug. Reardon, Brandy, and Meredith joined them while the sky turned lovely shades of purple and pink, signaling the approaching night.

“That was a ton of fun.” Meredith plopped down on the blanket she’d shared with Dylan.

“And lucrative,” Brandy said. “We raised crazy funds for the wolves.”

“That’s because you, fairy lass, are a genius.” Reardon slid his arms around Brandy’s waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I am. I really am.” Brandy turned to look at Nika. “Although, word is that Nika is a bit of a marketing genius too. I’ve been hearing quite a bit about The Wolfman Show.”

“Well, that’s only working out because Jaemus is the genius.” Nika gestured to her soul mate as he carried Dylan across the field over his shoulder, the boy laughing and wiggling. Lug and Daisy trailed after them, and everything about the picture made Nika feel... right.

“He portrays a good wolfman, does he?” Reardon squinted at his brother then focused on Nika. She had the feeling Reardon didn’t necessarily approve of Jaemus playing a wolfman.

“He’s amazing, Reardon.” The words came out with a bit more bite than she’d intended, but she felt this crazy need to defend Jaemus. Without him, she’d be out of a job, out of her home, out of the one thing that kept Tato’s memory alive for her.

She was about to go on, but Jaemus was suddenly beside her. She opened her mouth then snapped it shut when Jaemus, Reardon, and Brandy all raised their noses to the air in perfect synchronicity. Everything was eerily motionless for a heartbeat.

“Fire,” Jaemus and Reardon said together.

“To the west,” Brandy added.

“West? My post is west!” Nika took off at a run.

Chapter Twelve

“Nika!” Jaemus easily caught up to her as she bolted toward the sanctuary’s front gates. He was vaguely aware of Reardon and Brandy zooming past him while he grabbed Nika around the waist and lifted her off her feet.

“Let go of me!” She slapped at his forearms. “Jaemus! I need to make sure my post is all right.”

“I will go, sprite.” He squeezed her to his chest to keep her from squirming free. He loved everything about her body wiggling against his, but he feared for her safety too much to enjoy the physical closeness. “Stay here.”

“I’m not staying here, and every minute you hold me is a minute more Maple Ridge could be burning to the ground.” She stilled for a moment and turned her head toward him. “Jaemus, please.”

The despair in her voice cut into him. His grip loosened and she took off, Daisy jetting after her. He broke into a run, catching up to Reardon and Brandy.

When the three of them spilled onto Nika’s property at the same time, angry orange flames licked the darkening night sky. The bleachers were completely engulfed.

“I’ve called 911,” Brandy yelled over the roar of burning wood.

Jaemus heard her, but his gaze was trained on the black smoke billowing out of the trading post itself. He started toward it, but Reardon clamped a big hand on his bicep.

“Let the fire fighters take care of it. They are on their way,” he said.

“But whoever did this might still be in there.” Robert Senclair might still be in there. And right now Jaemus couldn’t think of anything more satisfying than dragging that bastard out of there and beating the shit out of him.

“The police are on the way too, brother.” Reardon’s reasonable and sensible tone of voice did nothing to settle Jaemus. In fact, it wound him up tighter.

“Good. I’ll take great pleasure in delivering the fire starter to them.” Jaemus glanced back to the woods where he could hear Nika running toward them. “Keep her back.”

Reardon hesitated, no doubt wanting to stop him and Nika both. Before his brother could decide to get in his way, Jaemus tore across the gravel parking lot and kicked in the front door of the trading post. Smoke rushed out, temporarily blinding him and stealing his breath.

Shielding his face in the crook of his left arm, he entered the hazy air, finding the epicenter of the blaze in Nika’s office. Flames spread out like tentacles, charring everything in their path. Jaemus spun in a circle, looking for anyone fleeing, but he was the only one crazy enough to be inside the post. He wanted to grab things—save things—for Nika, but where did he begin to choose what would be important to her?

Everything is important to her.

Her father had built this post with his own two hands, had grown it into a profitable business for himself and his daughter, and had left it to Nika as his legacy.

And now it was nearly destroyed.

“Jaemus!” Reardon’s voice barely reached him above the rumble of the inferno. “Come out now!”

He was right. Of course. The culprit had most likely fled the scene once the first spark ignited. Jaemus had to leave and tend to Nika, who would be devastated seeing the post die like this.

Maneuvering through the thick haze filling the interior, Jaemus approached the front doors, but something caught his attention on the floor by the register.

A shoe.

A fancy shoe.

Jaemus headed for it, knowing it could be the proof he needed to nail Robert Senclair for this disaster. As he reached for it, a deafening explosion rocked the floor beneath his feet. He was knocked to the ground, his knees slamming into the hardwood. He caught himself with his right hand, but the force of the impact made his wrist snap.

Something overhead cracked, and as he looked up, he had no time to shield himself from the stout beam hurtling toward him. It hit him like a battering ram to the spine.

Air rushed out of him, and he choked on his attempt to take in another breath. The air around him had grown thick with smoke, charcoal gray curls slithering around him as the heat intensified. He attempted to get to his feet, but that beam had done a number on him. The pain he felt in his back was worse than anything he’d ever felt on the battlefield. His lungs burned as if they were on fire too. His vision grew blurry and he blinked against the haze, but it didn’t help.

Shift, warrior wolf.

Flidae? Here? Now?

Shift and use your wolf strength to get out.

He wasn’t sure he had it in him to shift. The pain had subsided, replaced by a concerning numbness in his limbs.

Try, Jaemus McAlator. Don’t give in.

Right. It wasn’t in his nature to give in. No quitting. Ever.

Focusing everything he had left inside him on picturing his wolf form, Jaemus closed his eyes and let out a shout as his body reformed itself.

Only he didn’t get to finish. Another beam fell and landed on his ankle with a crushing force. He let out a howl, realizing he was in wolfman form, only half of his transformation completed before the new injury. Growling, he envisioned his full wolf, but it was as if his body was stuck, no longer able to get back to human, but not able to go all wolf either.

Now what, Flidae?

He never heard if she replied because his vision went from spotty to black, the acrid scent of charred merchandise and burned dreams stealing his breath and breaking more than his body.

I’m sorry, sprite.

****

“Why did you let him go in there?” Nika beat her fists against Reardon’s chest as the large man held her back from entering the trading post. Why did these McAlator brothers possess such incredible muscles and strength? Damn them.

“I didn’t. Jaemus does what Jaemus wants.” Reardon grunted as she struggled in his hold. “He told me to keep you out. I couldn’t stop him anyway.”

Brandy ran from behind the building to join them at the front. “All the exits are blocked, and I didn’t see Jaemus.” Her concerned glance to Reardon made Nika’s stomach roll.

“Let me find him.” She used all the strength she had, but Reardon was too strong for her to break free.

Sirens grew louder, and while Nika knew that meant help, her heart broke over needing such help.

Tato’s post was on fire.

That was bad enough, but the thought that Jaemus was still inside while those furious flames consumed the place made her a little crazy. She couldn’t lose him. Not now. He meant too much to her.

He meant everything.

“Take her.” Reardon pushed Nika toward Brandy who clamped her arms around Nika’s waist with surprising power. Brandy wasn’t much bigger than Nika, but she held her as firmly as Reardon had. “I have to go in. Sometimes, a situation like this could... change things.” He angled his head toward the direction of the sirens.

Brandy’s eyes widened as if Reardon had sent her some hidden message. “Go.”

Reardon raced into the blaze as fire trucks, ambulances, and police cars screamed into the parking lot.

“What did he mean?” Nika stopped trying to get free from Brandy’s grasp and the other woman released her. “What did Reardon mean about this situation changing things?”

Brandy met Nika’s gaze for a moment then focused on something over Nika’s shoulder. When Nika turned, Sheriff Olsen was walking toward them.

“Anyone inside?” he asked.

Brandy gripped Nika’s hand and squeezed. “No. It’s clear.”

Nika whipped her head toward Brandy, but the pressure on her hand increased, a pleading look in Brandy’s blue eyes. Everything inside Nika wanted to yell for all the firefighters to rush in and save Jaemus, but if Brandy didn’t want the same for Reardon, something was going on that she didn’t quite understand. She knew how Brandy felt about Reardon. She’d seen them together. She’d heard the soul mate speech. More than once. There was no way Brandy would let Reardon die in a fire.

So what isn’t she telling me?

Sheriff Olsen turned toward the fire chief. “All clear.”

Those two words cut Nika’s heart into tiny slivers. She glared at Brandy, but her friend shook her head, the movement so subtle that it barely registered in Nika’s brain.

“We’ll make a sweep inside as we get water on it.” The fire chief signaled to his men.

As the firefighters unwound hoses and unleashed water on the inferno, Daisy barked like a feral animal. Spittle flew from the dog’s jowls and she darted to and from the burning trading post.

“Daisy! Come!” Nika clapped her hands, trying in vain to rein in the pooch, but the Lab wouldn’t relent. Her barking intensified then Nika’s focus shifted from the post to something moving behind it.

Reardon. Carrying something. Something big.

Daisy took off and Nika did the same, but Brandy caught up to her and yanked on her arm with painful strength.

“Hold up, Nika.”

Nika whirled around. “What is up with you, Brandy? Our men were in there, but you did nothing to save them. Why did you say the post was empty? What’s going on?” She looked over her shoulder to see Reardon disappearing into the woods. “Where is he going? I see him. I know you see him, too.”

Again, Brandy looked as if she wanted to say something, but... couldn’t.

“If you won’t say something, at least let me go find out for myself.” Nika tugged on the arm Brandy still had a death grip on.

Little by little, her friend loosened her hold and Nika didn’t hang around. She took off, still able to see Daisy, knowing the dog would lead her to Reardon.

Please have Jaemus.

If she found Reardon and no Jaemus, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. Die as well, perhaps.

Diving into the dark woods, Nika used her sense of hearing more than anything else to guide her. Daisy made a ton of noise trampling through the brush in the general direction that appeared to be heading back to the sanctuary.

She didn’t stop running. Not when her lungs burned. Not when her heart threatened to burst right through her ribs. Not when she tripped on roots and gouged her palms on rocks. Not when she thought about her trading post being completely destroyed. Not when hot tears streamed from her eyes.

She spilled onto the dirt driveway of Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary to find Daisy sniffing at a print on the ground illuminated by a spotlight outside the entrance gates. Nika crouched beside the dog, expecting a simple footprint considering all the people that had visited the sanctuary for the picnic.

But this wasn’t just any print.

Twice the size of her own foot, she ran her fingers over it. The heel had hit the ground hard, as if at a run. And the toes? They were so long and ended in sharp points, deep gouges in the ground as if dug by...

Claws.

Nika blinked hard and shook her head. Her vision was off. Had she inhaled too much smoke? No. She hadn’t been close enough. Reardon and Brandy hadn’t allowed her to get close enough.

What the hell is going on?

She stood and followed the strange prints past the open gates and toward the building next to Brandy’s cabin. Having been in that building before, Nika knew it to house a clinic for Brandy’s wolves. She’d seen both Brandy and Parker tend to some of the wolves there.

Daisy let out little whines as the clinic door swung open. Light spilled over a large form, and in a few more steps, that form disappeared inside. The door slammed shut, sealing what had to be Reardon carrying Jaemus inside the clinic.

The crinkle of leaves behind her told her Brandy had arrived at the sanctuary as well. Nika pointed to one of the prints in the soft dirt.

“What is this?”

When Brandy didn’t answer her, she ran for the clinic and put her hand on the doorknob.

“Don’t go in there!” Brandy got between Nika and the door, while Daisy got to her hind legs and looked in the closest window. The dog let a round of barking loose, some rather vicious growls mixing in.

Growls? For as long as Nika had owned Daisy, the friendly Labrador had never, ever growled like this. Little grumbles here and there—especially when Robert was around—but rarely serious growls.

Then she realized it wasn’t Daisy growling. The growls are coming from inside.

Was one of Brandy’s wolves in the clinic? Had Reardon disturbed a recovering wolf? Had he angered it? Was it about to attack? What if Jaemus was in there, too? Were the men in danger?

“Get out of my way, Brandy.”

With astonishing force, Nika shoved Brandy aside and ripped open the clinic door. The bright lighting was in stark contrast to the dark outdoors and it took a minute for her eyes to adjust.

When they did, she couldn’t believe what she saw.

Jaemus’s body, in wolfman costume, was sprawled out on the large metal exam table in the middle of the room.

When had he changed into his costume? And why would he? How had he had any time to? She’d seen him run into the burning trading post. His costume was not in the post and it didn’t make any sense to put it on while a fire raged.

She approached the exam table, vaguely aware that Brandy had followed her in with Daisy. The dog raced to the table, her tail wagging excitedly as if she expected Jaemus to pop off the table and jump right into his Wolfman Show role.

From the looks of things, however, Jaemus wouldn’t be popping off anything.

The closer Nika got, the more damage she saw. Blood matted the fur of Jaemus’s costume. His right wrist was bent at an odd angle, and his sides heaved in and out as if he couldn’t take in air.

“Oh my God...” She immediately put her hands on his long whiskered muzzle. “Brandy, help me get this costume off him. You have to examine him. We have to call an ambulance.”

She searched the base of Jaemus’s neck, looking for a seam so she could remove his mask. While he struggled to breathe on the table, she ran her fingers along his back. They came away bloody, but she didn’t find any zippers or snaps. Nothing that would allow her to get him out of that wolfman suit.

Again, she turned to Brandy. “Help me!”

Slowly, Brandy shook her head. “Why don’t you come stand over here with me?”

“What? He needs us!”

“No.” Reardon came out from the small bathroom at the far end of the clinic, his shirt was missing and he only wore simple cotton shorts. Where had the denim shorts and sanctuary T-shirt he’d worn at the picnic gone? Where were his shoes? “What he needs is for you to go, Nika.”

Nika looked between Brandy and Reardon, not believing her friends—Jaemus’s own brother—wouldn’t help save him.

“I’m not leaving. Jaemus is seriously hurt and he’s stuck in this costume. I don’t know why he’s wearing it, but we have to get it off, see how bad his injuries are, call a goddamn ambulance!” Her voice was up in the screechy, hysterical range, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was Jaemus.

She went back to searching for a way to remove the Wolfman costume, but Reardon’s large hands closed over hers.

“Nika, look at me.” His voice was unnaturally calm considering the status of his brother right now.

She met his gaze and stumbled back when his green-gold eyes glowed back at her.

“Jaemus and I aren’t like you, Nika,” he said gently.

“I’m not either,” Brandy added as she came to stand on the other side of Nika. Her blue eyes shined like Reardon’s.

“I-I don’t understand,” Nika stammered, her legs suddenly feeling like overcooked spaghetti.

“This Wolfman costume,” Reardon began, “isn’t a costume.”

“Isn’t a costume?” Nika felt like the dumbest person on the planet. Everything Reardon said was beyond her comprehension. Nothing made sense.

Not a costume. What did that mean?

Reardon shook his head, his eyes still glowing a bright green. He lifted his left hand, and Nika clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle the scream when long claws extended from his fingertips.

Claws like the ones now at the tips of Jaemus’s fingers.

“Don’t be scared,” Brandy said, touching her shoulder.

Nika jumped back and squeezed her eyes shut. This is a dream. I’m going to wake up and there will have been no fire. She cracked one eye open and let out a strained, panicked cry when she saw Jaemus’s wolfman body still struggling on the table, things snapping under his skin.

Under his silver fur? The room swirled around Nika and she clamped her hands on the edge of the exam table for support.

“His body is healing itself,” Reardon said, shaking his hand while the claws retracted. “He will be okay. Just broken bones. Those heal quickly. He’s stuck in half man, half wolf form for the moment.”

The words came out matter-of-factly, as if Reardon had given her the most reasonable explanation in the world. Only he hadn’t. Holy shit, he hadn’t.

“All this time I’ve been...”

“Making love to a fucking animal.” Jaemus’s large wolfman head turned toward her. His voice was gravelly, his words garbled a bit as he spoke around the massive teeth in his mouth. Teeth that weren’t an amazing prop used by a brilliant actor.

Teeth that were really Jaemus McAlator’s. Wolfman teeth.

With a grunt, he leaped off the table and ran awkwardly past Nika, Reardon, and Brandy. He slammed into the clinic door, opening it and disappearing into the darkness beyond.

Chapter Thirteen

Rain fell, washing blood and soot off Jaemus’s damaged wolfman body. Everything hurt. Even the gentle touch of the raindrops was painful as he cut through the woods. He was lucky he was able to run though. When those beams in the trading post came down on him, he’d been sure he was in his final moments.

Then Reardon dragged him out. Hoisted him into his arms. Carried him back to the sanctuary. Shifted to wolfman form himself to be able to run faster. His brother had saved him as he had many times on the battlefield. The anger Jaemus had toward Reardon over being turned faded away. Hadn’t turning the men been another way he’d saved them? They would have died facing that enemy of the Spanish king. Turning some of them into werewolves was the only way they could win... and live. Great riches came with that win, too, and Jaemus could be mad at his brother, but he’d wanted those treasures as much as any other man in that army. Reardon’s actions had kept all of them legendary even if they’d been banished from Ireland.

But Reardon couldn’t keep Nika away.

When he’d heard her voice in the clinic, he knew his secret would no longer be secret. She’d want to tend to him, to get him help. To remove his costume that wasn’t a costume. She wouldn’t be content to leave him there to heal on his own. She’d want to be there for him, with him. She’d want to ease his pain.

He wanted that too, but how could she love him now that she knew he was a monster? How could she ever let him touch her again after seeing him in that beastly form, bloody and broken with claws and fangs and fur? Nika deserved a man, not a werewolf.

Jaemus ran toward the trading post to check on the status of the fire. From his vantage point in the woods, only smoke still curled into the sky, the flames now extinguished on both the post and the theater. Using his keen wolf vision, he scanned toward Nika’s barn, which hadn’t caught on fire and still appeared to be unscathed.

At least she still has her home.

Even if he could no longer live downstairs. No longer share space with her. No longer touch her.

Love her.

His heart hurt as much as the rest of him, but after stopping into his space in the barn to grab some clothes, he kept running through the woods, not caring where he ended up. He had to keep moving away from the sanctuary and the trading post.

Away from Nika.

He couldn’t face her again. He couldn’t watch her look at him as if he were a vile creature—which he was. Definitely. He’d only managed to hold on to his humanity because of her and the way she made him feel. Loving her had helped him escape what he’d become. He’d only used the wolfman for her. He’d foolishly thought he could be both the man she loved and the wolfman she needed.

That was over now. They couldn’t go back to the way things were. Not now that she knew. She wouldn’t be able to look at him and not see the struggling, feral mess he’d been on that exam table in the clinic. She’d have nightmares. She’d regret ever allowing him to make love to her.

His pace slowed as the rain tapered off, a wet dirt fragrance filling his long wolf nose. He tried shifting to full wolf and found he was healed enough to do so. On four legs, he streaked through the woods with his clothes in his jaws, attempting to outrun the curse that had maybe saved his life on the battlefield but ruined his life in love.

Jaemus soon arrived at the patch of woods adjacent to Canville’s town center. He paced among the trees, taking inventory of his body. All of his legs were functional and his spine, though sore, appeared to have healed. His wrist was mended as well, and the minor cuts and bruises were gone. He was surprised to have healed so quickly, but perhaps the adrenaline pumping through his body had kickstarted his werewolf abilities.

But there would still be scars. Physical ones on his body. Emotional ones on his heart. Irreparable ones on his soul.

He sat on his haunches, taking in a few deep inhales and exhaling slowly. His lungs stung a little, but he could breathe normally. He no longer felt as if he were choking as he had in the clinic.

Of course what good was oxygen if he didn’t have Nika?

After giving himself some extra moments to make sure his body was truly healed, he focused his energy on shifting back to full man. He achieved the task, but not without some pain. His human body didn’t weather his injuries as well as his wolfman form, but he’d spent too much time running around like an animal. He needed to see his human legs and feet, arms and hands. He needed to pretend he was like everyone else in town. His stomach was empty after using so much energy to heal that refueling was a must. He couldn’t set foot in Canville looking like a wolfman or a wolf. Not if he wanted to avoid another reaction like Nika’s.

The look on her face would never leave him. He’d grown accustomed to having her regard him with such love and admiration and respect, but she hadn’t had any of those in her lovely, pale green eyes back at the clinic. Confusion. Fear. Betrayal. Disgust. He’d seen all of those and didn’t blame her for a single one. He felt the same things whenever he thought about what he was.

Shaking his head, he put on the jeans and T-shirt he’d grabbed from the barn. He hadn’t grabbed any boots, but that was the least of his problems. He shoved a hand into the pockets of his jeans and was surprised to find money in one of them.

Luck of the Irish. He could definitely use more of that.

He made his way to Rosie’s Diner, knowing the place would be closing soon and would likely be mostly empty at his hour. He’d get a bite to eat, something to drink, and maybe on a full stomach, he could plan his next moves.

And figure out what to do to Robert Senclair.

Jaemus sat on the first stool at the long counter. Sharon, who Nika had told him was Rosie’s niece, came over.

“Hey, honey. Heard about the fire at Nika’s place. How is she doing?” She filled a glass with water and slid it, along with silverware, toward Jaemus.

“As well as can be expected,” he said, not wanting to get into the details.

“Damn shame. I’m sure things will work out. Nika is too wonderful a person to not have everything she wants out of life.” She gave him a slight smile and he nodded, although he wished he were one of those things she wanted.

Let it go.

It was good advice. He had to listen to it and let Nika go. She’d have no trouble letting him go now that she knew his whole wolfman routine wasn’t a routine at all. It probably made her sick to her core to know she’d said I love you to someone who had a wolf living inside him. Sure, Nika loved animals, but she wasn’t in love with them.

And he was an animal.

“What can I get you?” Sharon asked, tapping the menu he hadn’t noticed she’d given him.

“Burger. Beer.”

“The simple stuff.” She smiled again. “Coming right up.”

While he waited, Jaemus swiveled on his stool and surveyed the other customers in the diner. A couple huddled on the same side of a booth by the window, no doubt heading home to snuggle into the wee hours of the morning.

Like I used to do with Nika.

He’d miss that. Nika’s amazing body fit against his perfectly, and he’d enjoyed every moment of pulling her close, inhaling her sweet fragrance, nuzzling her silky hair.

At a table in the middle of the diner, four women sat with wineglasses at their elbows and books in their hands. Jaemus’s enhanced vision zoomed in on the cover of the book. Waking the Merrow, by Heather Rigney. The women were talking animatedly, arguing over which character they were rooting for, Evie or Nomia. It appeared to be a tie.

Near the large fireplace that lined one wall of the diner, another table was full of six men, talking in hushed whispers, but Jaemus could easily hear them.

I can’t believe it caught on fire so fast.

I’ve never seen Senclair run that fast.

Gruff chuckles emanated from their darkened corner.

I thought he wanted the post though.

He wants the land. He don’t give a shit about her shop.

He gave a shit about her though.

Her pussy at least.

More laughter erupted from the table until one of the men shushed everyone. A few more chuckles rose from the group, then Jaemus heard what he already knew.

Robert will have his Mr. Sprinkles erected before the summer ends.

Jaemus was on his feet. At the table in a handful of long strides. Looming over the men seated there.

Unfortunately, Robert wasn’t among them. Too bad because punching him was where Jaemus had wanted to begin. His henchmen would be a good start though.

“Which one of you lit the match?” He had to remind himself not to growl at them.

“Excuse me?” the fat one at the far end of the table asked.

“Was it you?” Jaemus pointed at him. “I know one of you did because even if Senclair was there with you, he wouldn’t dirty his hands with lighting it himself.”

“Fuck off,” the man to Jaemus’s right said.

“I can’t do that. All of you deserve an ass-kicking. I’m just looking for the first volunteer.”

As soon as the words were uttered, all six men were on their feet and surrounding Jaemus.

“Take it outside, fellas,” Sharon yelled from the counter. “Or I’m calling the sheriff to deal with you.” She leveled her gaze on Jaemus as she set down his plate of food. “Burger’s ready, honey. Come eat.”

His logical brain knew Sharon was giving him a chance to let the six bastards leave without him. She was being the voice of reason.

Come eat.

Aye. That was absolutely what he should do. Let them leave, return to his meal, figure out his future.

But he wasn’t feeling logical tonight. Not even a little bit.

****

“So werewolves are real?” Nika took a long slurp of the tea Meredith had poured for her. She sat at Brandy’s kitchen table with Brandy and Reardon sitting across from her. Meredith had taken Dylan and Daisy to her place so the adults could talk.

One adult human and two adult werewolves apparently.

Reardon had told her how he’d been born a werewolf, how he’d changed some of his men—Jaemus included—into werewolves back in Ireland in the past to win a difficult battle. How an ancient Celtic goddess hadn’t been happy with his choice and banished the werewolves in his army and himself from Ireland. How Reardon had ended up at the sanctuary. How he’d fallen in love with Brandy, how they fought to be together, and how he turned her at her request.

How the goddess had given Reardon his brother back.

Can this be real?

The tea wasn’t clearing Nika’s head at all. She felt as if she’d been held underwater, deprived of oxygen, and had emerged with severe brain damage.

Because how can werewolves be real?

She’d grown up with stories of spirit animals from her father’s Native American friends, but listening to those stories and finding out they had truth to them were totally different situations. Stories she could accept. She’d always loved a good story.

But werewolves? Real, living, breathing werewolves? It was craziness.

Right?

And yet, Jaemus did have an uncanny ability to portray a wolfman in the trading post’s show. He’d excelled at the role like no one before him. His costume had been top-of-the-line.

Because it wasn’t a costume.

Oh, God. Nika chugged more tea, but she needed something stronger.

“Got any whiskey?” she asked Brandy.

“I’ll get it.” Reardon rose from the table, leaving the two women alone but not before giving his bride-to-be a glance.

After he left the kitchen, Brandy switched her seat to the one right beside Nika. “Look, I know this is a lot to take in. It sounds like complete bullshit. The only way to truly believe it is to see it. Come with me.” She held out her hand as she stood.

Nika blinked at her friend’s hand, her own hands firmly wrapped around that tea cup as if it were her only lifeline to normal.

“Come on, Nika. I’ll show you. Then you’ll get it. You’ll believe. You can go find Jaemus and tell him you still love him.”

“I don’t need to see you as a wolf to tell Jaemus I still love him.” Because, dammit, she still loved him. She couldn’t talk herself out of loving him. Her first thought at hearing Reardon tell her Jaemus wasn’t wearing a wolfman costume wasn’t to be disgusted or afraid. Her first thought was that even in wolfman form, covered in blood, suffering in pain, Jaemus was still the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

She wanted him. She’d always want him. No matter what. She only felt whole with him in her life.

“He needs to know that, Nika.” Brandy rested her hand on Nika’s shoulder. “I’ve gotten to know Jaemus pretty well while he’s been here in Canville, and while he’s different from Reardon in many ways, they both think being werewolves makes them... unworthy. Of normal lives. Of happily ever afters. Of love. Of us.”

“Reardon must know now though,” Nika said. “He has you. He turned you.”

“Because he knew I wanted it. Wanted him.” Brandy picked up Nika’s tea cup though she hadn’t finished. “Go find him. Talk. Work it out.”

Nika stood. “Where should I look for him?”

Brandy puckered her lips as she thought. “He probably wanted to feel anything but werewolf at the moment. He’d want to go somewhere to feel more human.”

“He’s probably starving too,” Reardon added as he handed Nika a glass filled with a quarter of whiskey. “Healing takes up energy.”

An image of Jaemus sitting at the counter in Rosie’s Diner flashed into her head, making her stumble back a step.

“What just happened?” Brandy put a steadying hand on Nika’s arm.

“I had a super clear picture of Jaemus at Rosie’s pop into my head,” she said. “As if I were really seeing him there.”

“Flidae,” Reardon said. “The goddess. She wants you to find him.”

Both Brandy and Reardon cocked their heads to the side as if listening to something Nika couldn’t hear.

Nodding, Brandy said, “Rosie’s. Go.” She reached to the counter and grabbed her keys. “Take my SUV.”

“But I have to go back to my property. See what’s happening.” Not that her heart could take looking at the ruin of everything Tato had worked so hard to build.

Brandy shook her head. “All that isn’t going anywhere. Finding Jaemus is first.”

Nika took the keys and allowed Brandy and Reardon to nudge her out the front door and to Brandy’s SUV. The drive to Rosie’s wasn’t nearly long enough for her to figure out exactly what she should say to Jaemus when she saw him.

So a werewolf? Does your fur itch?

Ugh. She hated herself right now. She kept replaying Jaemus’s last words to her. Making love to a fucking animal. Something on her face—shock maybe—had caused him to say that. He thought she regretted being with him, loving him.

He couldn’t be more wrong.

Jaemus McAlator had brought so much to her life with his simple presence. He was an answer to a prayer sent by a goddess. Literally. True, that goddess had been punishing him for something his brother had done, but Jaemus arriving when he did had worked out for Nika. She’d lost her Wolfman. He’d become her new one. Her trading post was in trouble. He’d saved it with his phenomenal performances each and every day.

Her heart had been empty since Tato’s passing. Jaemus had filled it back up and then some. She wanted Jaemus in her life. Today. Always.

Now she just had to find him and tell him. Make him believe her.

She parked Brandy’s SUV across the street from Rosie’s, but didn’t see any lights on in the small diner. After crossing the street, she cupped her hand over her eyes and peered into the front window. Everything looked cleaned up for the night.

Backing up from the window, Nika scanned up and down the street which was oddly barren tonight. Canville pretty much closed up after dark, but this kind of quiet was strange. A whistly wind blew, making buildings creak, flower baskets on lampposts sway, and Nika’s wavy hair fly about her face.

She rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms, wishing she’d brought a sweatshirt or something. As she walked back to the SUV, another vision blasted into her head, bringing her to her knees in the street.

Jaemus. In the center of a group of men. Shouting. Fighting. Blood.

As much as Nika didn’t want to watch anymore, she forced herself to look for where they were. A river gurgled somewhere to their left. A chain-link fence separated a parking lot from a wide open, green field. A brick building behind Jaemus and the others.

The library.

Nika got to her feet, the vision dissipating as she ran to the SUV and hopped up into the driver’s seat. Two minutes later, she squealed into the library parking lot on two wheels.

But it was empty too.

Dammit. If these visions were from the goddess as Brandy and Reardon thought, she liked to toy with people.

“Would love to know where Jaemus is now, Flidae. These after-the-fact images aren’t helpful.”

But isn’t the hunt fun?

Nika spun in a circle, looking for the source of the voice, but finding no one.

“No, the hunt isn’t fun. I want Jaemus. I need to find him. Please.” She wasn’t above begging. Besides, didn’t goddesses like when humans begged?

Not particularly.

“He could be hurt. Show me where he is.” She was so done playing this game. She had things that needed saying. She had a wolfman to claim. The sooner she found Jaemus, the sooner she could tell him how much he meant to her.

Another picture materialized in her head. This time, Jaemus was on his knees at the edge of the river, a man standing behind him. As the vision rotated, Nika let out a cry.

A gun was pointed at the back of Jaemus’s head.

Chapter Fourteen

Blood dribbled down his chin from a split in his lip. A split that should have healed already, but he’d never had the chance to eat that burger at Rosie’s so he was at zero in the energy department. Fighting all six of Senclair’s men hadn’t done him any favors either. That was how he’d ended up with a gun pointed at the back of his head.

To say he’d never been in a similar situation would be a lie. Though guns weren’t around in his time back in Ireland, he’d had every manner of other weapon trained on him at some point or another. Spears, swords, axes... they’d all left their mark on him somewhere.

A gun, however, was a different problem. Reardon had explained the weapon to him, and if the man standing behind him pulled the trigger, his survival was in jeopardy.

What does it matter anyway?

He’d lost Nika. What else did he have? His old life didn’t exist anymore, and the one he’d been hoping to have with Nika was nothing but a daydream now.

Pull the trigger.

At least he’d had the satisfaction of beating the shit out of the six men. Easily. He’d used the last reserves of energy to knock them all unconscious. He would have gladly killed them, but the rules of the battlefield didn’t apply to Canville, Vermont. That much he knew. He’d be arrested by the sheriff if he killed the men. Still, he gained a measure of retribution knowing he’d avenged the burning of Nika’s trading post to some degree.

Until Robert Senclair himself showed up in his fancy shoes and fancy car... with his fancy gun.

“You’ve taken out my best men, Wolfman.” Senclair had advanced on Jaemus with the gun held out. Edged him toward the river. Ordered him to his knees.

“One of them started the fires at Nika’s.”

“Of course. They do what I tell them to. Nika should take a lesson from them.”

“Nika isn’t yours. She’s free to do what she wants.”

“Perhaps. But that will change once you’re gone.”

“Robert! Please, don’t! I’ll do whatever you want. Don’t kill him.” Nika’s voice sounded real, but she couldn’t be there.

Could she?

Jaemus risked turning his head slightly to see his sprite running toward them. Conflicting emotions welled in his chest. Elation at seeing her again. Desperation at not wanting her anywhere near Senclair or his gun. Total depression at knowing she wasn’t his anymore.

“You don’t have to kill him, Robert!”

“I gave you a chance to choose me, Nika.” Robert pushed the nose of the gun more firmly into the back of Jaemus’s skull, forcing Jaemus to look at the river again instead of at Nika.

His beautiful sprite. How would he live without her? Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to.

But if he died today, he’d be leaving Nika with Robert Senclair. He didn’t like that notion one bit. He had no doubts that Nika could take care of herself, but Robert had already burned her business down. What other lengths would he go to in order to get what he wanted?

Gods be damned.

Jaemus couldn’t leave her in Senclair’s clutches. Even if she didn’t want to be with him, Jaemus wanted her to be happy. He wasn’t the one to make her happy, but Robert Senclair wasn’t worthy of a woman like Nika. He wouldn’t take care of her the way she deserved. He wouldn’t love her.

Not like I do.

He had to keep that love to himself now, but he could ensure that Nika got the chance to find the love she needed in her life. He could at least do that for her.

What are you doing, warrior wolf? Flidae’s voice echoed in his head, but he was beyond caring what Celtic goddesses thought.

With a low growl, claws exploded from Jaemus’s fingertips. He reached back and grabbed Senclair’s wrist, snapping it as if it were no more than a twig.

Robert let out a howl of pain and dropped the gun as Jaemus stood and wrapped his wolfman hands around the other man’s neck. He squeezed until Robert’s mouth opened and closed, choking sounds escaping now and then.

One flick of Jaemus’s wrist and Senclair would be no more. One flick of the wrist and Jaemus could remove the man from Nika’s life forever. One flick of the wrist...

“Jaemus, don’t.” Nika stood right next to him now, her delicate hand on his gnarled, inhuman one. “The police are on their way. Let them handle this.”

He couldn’t look at anything but her hand on his. She’d touched him. Still. Though he was a beast, she’d touched him.

“Please. I know you’re doing this for me, but don’t. A long jail sentence for Robert will be just as good.” She didn’t let go of his hand.

And gods be damned, he didn’t want her to. Ever.

Robert passed out in his grip, but the man was still breathing, and Nika released a breath of her own. Jaemus let Robert drop to the ground at their feet and his eyes widened when Nika stepped over the man. She wrapped her arms around Jaemus’s shoulders and pushed her nose into the curve of his neck. Inhaling deeply, she settled against his chest.

“Thank God you’re all right.” She squeezed him closer. “I thought he was going to shoot you.” She slid her hands down his arms and grabbed his hands—his wolfman hands.

He tried to take a step back and shrug out of her hold, but she tightened her grip and shook her head. “Don’t. Let me see them.”

“You’ve seen them before,” he said. “You just didn’t realize they were really me.”

Her soft fingertips running over his oversized knuckles and along his rough palm made him close his eyes. Her touch did so many things to him. So many things no one else had ever done to him.

When her gaze met his, he was surprised at what he found in her pale green eyes.

Love.

She wasn’t looking at him with repulsion or anger. She looked at him as she had over the weeks they’d been together.

How can this be?

Shouldn’t she be running away? Shouldn’t she be furious with him for letting her believe he was a normal human? Shouldn’t she hate him for his lies?

“I love you, Jaemus. This,” she held up his clawed hands between them, “doesn’t change anything.”

He shook his head, but she grabbed his chin to stop him.

“I mean it. You’ve brought so much joy to my life.” She flattened her palm against his cheek and slowly his claws retracted, his hands returning to normal. “I want you. I still want you.”

His eyes stung with tears—the first time in his entire life that Jaemus McAlator almost cried. Her words, the love he saw on her face, for him... it warmed him all over.

And he believed her. He did. His sprite wouldn’t lie. This much he knew. If she said she loved him and she wanted him, she did. Besides, he could still smell her attraction to him. It hadn’t faded. Not even a little bit.

“Oh, sprite...” He folded her into a hug, never wanting to let her go, refusing to. “I love you too.” He kissed the top of her head, relishing the scent of her hair though it smelled vaguely smoky from the fire at the post. “I don’t know why you still love me, but I’m so happy you do.”

“Brandy and Reardon explained how you came to be a... a werewolf.” She whispered the word, her gaze darting to Robert still passed out at their feet.

“It wasn’t my choice. No one would choose this.”

“But being what you are doesn’t make you less, Jaemus. It makes you more. It makes you special. More special than I’d already thought you were.” She looked over her shoulder as two cop cars squealed into the library parking lot. “Let me do the talking so we can get out of here, check the damage at the post,” she cringed here, “and then maybe you could help me forget that my recently booming business is nothing but ash.”

“Aye. I’d be happy to take your mind off your troubles, sprite.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and they both walked toward Sheriff Olsen.

“Somebody call for the police?” he asked.

“I did,” Nika said. “I’ve needed you twice in one night, Sheriff, and I don’t like it one bit. Robert Senclair is passed out over there.” She pointed to the man’s body. “Along with his gun that he had aimed at Jaemus when I arrived.”

“Always knew he was bad news,” the sheriff said, “but I could never catch him in the act.”

“Well, Jaemus and I have plenty to tell you about him.” Nika folded her arms across her chest. “Starting with how he had his henchmen set my trading post on fire.”

“You know it was him?” Sheriff Olsen’s eyebrows rose.

“Aye,” Jaemus said. “He was on the scene. I saw his shoe inside the post while it was burning and his men—six of them—were boasting about setting Nika’s business on fire at Rosie’s tonight. I heard it all.”

“Know where I might find these men so I can send my officers after them?” The sheriff motioned to two police officers walking toward them.

“They’re on the other side of this building.” Jaemus gestured to the library. “They wanted to kick my ass when I confronted them.”

Olsen looked Jaemus up and down, his gaze resting on the split in his lip. “Looks as if they got in a couple of shots.”

“Aye, but I got in more.”

“Good. Never liked any of those guys either.” The sheriff nodded at his two officers who went off in search of Senclair’s men. “I’ll need you two to come to the police station and make official statements.”

“Of course,” Nika said. “We’ll be right behind you.”

Jaemus pointed back to Senclair’s body. “He may need an ambulance.”

Sheriff Olsen didn’t attempt to contain his grin. “What goes around, comes around, don’t it?” Chuckling, he meandered over to Robert’s location while Nika nudged Jaemus toward Brandy’s SUV.

Stopping shy of the vehicle, she turned to him and ran a gentle finger over his lip. Her brow crinkled as she felt the dried blood. “Do you need an ambulance?”

Jaemus squeezed Nika to his body. “No. It should be healed by the time we get to the police station.”

She frowned. “Which could be a problem.”

Right. The sheriff was an observant man. He’d specifically referenced that split in Jaemus’s lip. “I’ll split it again before we go into the station.”

“I don’t want you to purposely hurt yourself, Jaemus.” She cupped his cheek and he was having trouble not shouting his elation over having her there with him.

He’d been talking himself into living without her. Actually, that’s not true. More specifically, he’d been preparing to let Robert Senclair shoot a hole in his head to end the pain burning in his chest over the belief that Nika didn’t want him.

Everything was different now. She wanted him. She loved him.

He teased her lips with soft kisses, loving how her body melted against his. “Nothing can hurt me know, sprite. Not now that I have you again.”

****

Nika guided Brandy’s SUV onto a dirt side road and cut the engine. The woods were dark around them, no streetlights in the immediate vicinity.

“What are you doing, sprite?” Jaemus asked, but the rasp in his voice told her he absolutely knew what she was doing and he absolutely wanted her to do it.

“I can’t possibly walk into that police station and give any statements that make sense when wanting you is taking up every square inch of my brain right now. I’m just so relieved Robert didn’t kill you, that you’re here. With me.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, she removed her seatbelt and climbed onto his lap, grinning brilliantly when she discovered what was hard and so ready for her beneath his jeans.

“See what you do to me?” He smiled, the split in his lip totally gone now.

“Aye.” She purred the word deep in her throat and Jaemus’s hands immediately dove into her hair, which had to be a total and complete mess by this point in the evening. He didn’t seem to care though.

When their lips met, Nika couldn’t contain the satisfied sigh that buzzed against his mouth. This. She needed this. Always this.

Jaemus’s seatbelt clicked, and she backed up a fraction of an inch so it could slide between their bodies. He pulled the seat back as far as it would go, then reclined it slightly, pulling her up against him like a blanket. His body was solid beneath her, solid and safe and sexy.

She slid her hand below his T-shirt and rolled the soft cotton up until he removed the shirt. Tracing a fingertip over his chest and abs, she let herself memorize every muscle, every curve, every expanse of sexy male skin.

And there’s a wolf under there too.

“Will you show me your wolf later tonight?” She nibbled his ear, loving the low rumble vibrating from him.

“You don’t want to see that, sprite.” He eased her tank top and bra off so he could give her breasts some attention.

She angled her head so he could trail a line from her breasts up to her ears, making her hot for him. So hot. “Yes, I do. I want to know all of you, Jaemus. Every. Last. Whisker.” She pushed up on her arms, her hair dangling in between them. “Promise you’ll show me later.”

Emotions warred on his face, but she wasn’t going to back down on this one. If he wanted her in his life, he’d have to learn to trust her and her love. He had to be willing to share all of himself with her. Just as she was willing to share all of herself with him.

“Promise.” He cupped her cheeks and coaxed her toward him. “Later.” His voice was barely audible and sent shivers throughout Nika’s body. “Much later.”

He descended on her lips again, bringing her to the breaking point with only his kiss. His strong hands gripped her hips, holding her close. He scraped his fingers along her thigh, bunching up her skirt, and nudged her panties aside. When he found her wet, he growled in her ear.

“Say you’re mine, sprite. Please.”

Nika had been on her own for a while. She and Daisy had survived after Tato’s death. She’d done the best she could, never needing to belong to anyone. Never imagining the day she’d want to give herself over so completely.

That day was here. Right now. Tonight.

She moaned when he tested her depths with his fingers. “I’m yours, Wolfman. For as long as you want me.”

“Forever then?”

She unzipped his jeans, needing his length inside her. “Forever.”

“Good.” He devoured her mouth, his tongue caressing hers as she closed her hand over his arousal, drawing a deep moan out of him.

When she sat up a bit, ready to accept him, she gazed down at his beautiful face, loving the light in his golden brown eyes. She traced his scruff-covered jaw with her index finger, circling around his cheek, hooking his hair behind his ear.

“I could look at you for hours and keep noticing something new I love about your face.” Her fingertip lingered on the scar cutting through his beard.

“It’s not a perfect face.”

“Depends on your definition of perfect.” She pressed a kiss to that scar, her forward motion causing his erection to rub against her ready heat. “I have to have you now, Jaemus.”

“I wouldn’t dream of arguing with you, sprite.”

With a sexy grin, he pushed himself into her folds, every inch making her lose her grip on reality.

Because surely this man is a dream. A wonderful dream. A dream she didn’t ever want to wake up from. Especially if waking meant having to deal with giving statements about Robert to the police. With acknowledging that her trading post was toast. With accepting that her financial future was officially in the shitter.

None of that mattered in this moment. This moment in the strong embrace of the man she loved. The werewolf she loved.

Jaemus went still inside her and she met his gaze.

“What’s the matter?” Everything felt wonderful to her, but was he not comfortable in the passenger seat with her body draped over his? Were they not far enough from the main road? Would someone find them?

“That protection... the condom thing. We don’t have one.”

Nika gyrated slightly on his lap, loving that his face went slack, his eyes rolling up slightly in ecstasy. “I’m on the pill. Medication to keep me from getting pregnant. The condom was extra protection. Besides...” She bit her lip.

Jaemus brought his thumb up to press the pad of it against where she’d bitten. “Besides what?”

“What would happen if I... you know... got pregnant with your child? Would it be a werewolf?” And why did carrying Jaemus’s child send a thrill through her?

He cocked his head to the side, the way Brandy and Reardon had earlier in the night, as if he were listening to a conversation she couldn’t hear. Slowly, he shook his head.

“No. I don’t have the ability to pass the shifting to an offspring. The babe would be a normal human.” Something flared in his glowing gaze. Something like... yearning.

“Do you want children, Jaemus?”

“Aye.”

“With me?”

“I want everything with you, sprite. Everything.”

Those words filled her. Filled her with something she never knew she wanted. Filled her with a new sense of purpose.

We could have it all. Together.

Fueled by these thoughts, she moved atop him, coaxing him into a steady rhythm that tugged her closer and closer to the edge. An edge daring her to leap, soar, fly, fall. Her breathing reached a pant-like level as he drove into her with powerful thrusts that made her forget the horrible events of the evening. None of that mattered in this instant.

There was only him. Her. Their joining.

Nika had no idea what tomorrow would bring and for the first time in a long time, she didn’t care. She planned to enjoy now and let tomorrow unfold as it would.

Jaemus’s hold on her tightened as he neared his release, and Nika took a moment to study his face. His golden brown eyes were half-lidded, but a light still shined in them. His cheeks were pinked from their lovemaking, a light sheen of sweat dotting his brow. His blond hair was pushed away from his face, revealing those chiseled features Nika had come to love.

She traced his jaw until his fingers clamped on her hips and he shuddered beneath her. Following right behind him, she cried out his name, spasming through a bliss she could easily become addicted to then collapsing against his muscled body. When his arms came around her, pulling her close, she couldn’t think of anywhere else she wanted to be.

They stayed like that for a few moments, each of them catching their breaths. Nika listened to Jaemus’s heart beating, the sound bringing her such comfort. She was no longer alone in this world.

“Let’s get this police business over so we can do more of this.” He arched his hips up slightly, pressing himself against her.

“More. Yes. I’d love that.” She pushed up, still straddling him and glancing to the driver’s seat. “Too bad that seat is waaay over there.”

He caressed her cheek, grinning as he handed her shirt and bra to her. “You might need these in order to drive.”

“Says who?”

“Society, I believe.”

Pouting as he laughed, she took the clothes and slid back to the driver’s side. When they were both properly clothed again, she started Brandy’s SUV.

“We totally don’t tell Brandy what we did in here. Pinky swear.” Nika held out her hand, pinky finger extended toward him.

Jaemus blinked those lovely eyes—no longer glowing—at her. “Pinky swear?”

As she eased the SUV back onto the main road heading for the police station, she glanced at him. “What, your Ireland of the past doesn’t pinky swear?”

He shook his head, some of his hair falling against his cheeks. God, he’s beautiful. And wolf-like. She’d always considered him wolf-like because of the phenomenal job he’d done playing the Wolfman in her show. Now that she knew he was an actual wolf, she realized it was much more than that silly role. The way he looked at her was predatory, tracking her movements. The way he smelled the air. The way his lithe body moved. Of course he had something extra. Something amazing.

“Pinky swearing is like making a promise... taking an oath,” she said.

“Aye, pledging allegiance so to speak?”

“Exactly. By pinky swearing with me right now, you pledge allegiance to me and promise never to tell Brandy that we defiled her SUV.”

When his rough pinky finger curled around hers, she shot him another glance. He brought their joined hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.

“I don’t mind this pinky swearing, but I have ideas on much better ways to seal our deals, sprite. Much better.” He trailed light kisses over the inside of her wrist up to her elbow and along her shoulder.

“We should definitely explore those ideas. Like, all of them.”

His raspy chuckle did things to her insides a laugh shouldn’t do, and she pressed her foot down harder on the accelerator. They had to get the police statements against Robert out of the way so they could spend the rest of the night on his ideas. The sun would rise soon enough tomorrow morning, and Nika was certain her trading post wouldn’t look any better in the light of day.

Her heart ached over the post, but she boxed that up for now. If she let it free, she wouldn’t be able to make it through giving statements. She’d fall apart thinking of Tato and how what he’d built had been destroyed by a self-centered asswaffle. An asswaffle that had nearly killed the one man who had managed to steal her heart.

“What’s that?” Jaemus’s voice pulled her out of her growing anger over Robert.

Squinting out the windshield of the SUV, she saw it too. Red, flashing ambulance lights, but not at the top of a vehicle as one would expect. These were at the side.

As if the ambulance had tipped.

Chapter Fifteen

The SUV slowed and Jaemus jumped out before Nika could bring the vehicle to a full stop.

“Jaemus!” she called, but he kept moving, running toward the overturned ambulance, an uneasy feeling permeating his gut.

The back doors of the ambulance were open, one of them barely hanging on. A peek inside revealed supplies scattered about the interior and an upended gurney. A female EMT was pinned by the gurney and when Jaemus yelled to her, her eyes fluttered open. Her hand immediately went to her temple where a river of blood streamed down her cheek. Her gaze darted around her surroundings and when it settled on Jaemus, she blinked rapidly as if trying to process what she was seeing.

“My partner...” She raised a shaking hand and pointed to the driver’s seat. “Is she... oh, God... where is she?”

Jaemus ran around to the front of the disabled vehicle and climbed onto it. He peered into the window, but didn’t see anyone in the driver’s seat. Taking a deep inhale, he smelled a particular odor, something familiar, something... unpleasant.

Robert Senclair.

He raced to the back of the ambulance and ripped the broken door off completely. Using his werewolf strength, he slid the gurney out, careful not to further injure the EMT.

“How bad are you hurt?” He stepped into the ambulance and crouched beside her. He found some gauze pads and handed them to her to press to her bleeding wound.

“I’m okay. Just got knocked around when the ambulance flipped.” Slowly, she got to her feet, accepting Jaemus’s steadying hand.

He guided her out of the vehicle as Nika ran toward them. Before she caught up to them, he put his hands on the EMT’s shoulders and waited for her to look up at him. “You were carrying Robert Senclair, aye?”

“Yes. He lunged after the officer that was riding with us. Used a syringe as a weapon then grabbed the officer’s gun. I don’t know where the officer is.” A few tears escaped from the EMT’s eyes and she hastily wiped them away. “I think... I think he may have shot Dawna. That’s why the ambulance flipped.” She sniffed, fighting her tears. “I don’t know what happened after the accident.”

Jaemus inhaled deeply again. A light breeze blew tonight and Robert’s scent hit him again from the east.

Nika stopped next to him, her breathing labored from running. “Helene? Are you okay?”

“Call the police,” Jaemus said to her, “and another ambulance.” He started to run toward Senclair’s stench, but Nika grabbed his arm.

“Where are you going?”

“This ambulance was carrying Robert.”

Nika’s face paled, and he hated to see her frightened. “He caused this?”

Helene nodded. “And I don’t know where Dawna is or the officer that was escorting us.”

“I’m going to look for them.” Jaemus pulled Nika into a quick hug. “Please get help for Helene and report what’s happened. Stay here. Don’t follow me.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but Helene crumpled to the ground, clearly needing someone’s help.

Jaemus took off, Robert’s smell like a trail of breadcrumbs for him. The scent of blood mixed in as well and the deeper he got into the woods, the more he worried about the other EMT and the officer. What had Senclair done to them?

Should have ended Senclair when I had the chance.

But that would have been using his wolf to kill, and who knew what Flidae would do if he made that mistake again? Not that banishment had been going that poorly for him recently. Being on that island alone at the start of the goddess’s punishment had been harsh, but ending up here in Vermont had brought him great pleasure. Pleasure in the form of one wonderful woman he’d do absolutely anything for.

Even kill? came Flidae’s voice.

He slowed his pace to smell more precisely and contemplate Flidae’s question. Would he kill for Nika? Would he take another life to protect her?

Aye. Gods be damned, he would.

You love her. Flidae’s voice held a note of awe.

Completely.

Fascinating...

Suddenly, a strange light illuminated the woods, creating a path that Jaemus followed. When he reached the brightest spot on the path, a woman leaned against a rock in a small clearing. She held her shoulder with her hand, red seeping through her fingers.

“Dawna?”

She flicked her gaze up to meet his. “Oh, thank God. Did Helene send you?”

He nodded. “Where is the officer?”

Dawna pointed to the clearing, her lip trembling. “Senclair killed him.”

Jaemus looked in the direction she’d pointed and darted over to the officer’s prone body. Flipping him over, he checked for a pulse, but found none. He did, however, find a bullet wound in the man’s chest.

He sprinted back to Dawna and scooped the woman up into his arms. “Let’s get you some medical attention.” He ran back to where Nika and Helene waited for reinforcements.

“Dawna!” Helene was fully crying now. “I thought you were... I thought...”

“Me too, but somebody upstairs likes me and sent this hunk to get me.”

When Jaemus set Dawna on her feet, Helene threw her arms around the other woman and laughed. “That hunk belongs to Nika. Besides, you’re mine anyway.”

“Always.” Dawna stepped back and inspected Helene’s temple, still oozing fresh blood. “That bastard hurt you too.”

“What happened to that bastard?” Jaemus asked. He needed to get back into the woods before Robert’s trail blew away on the summer breeze.

Or did he?

Closing his eyes, he reached out to Flidae. Can you show me where Robert is?

A vision of Nika’s barn popped into his head. Robert limped along the exterior, indicating he’d been injured in the ambulance accident as well. As he moved in the darkness, a floodlight flared on, revealing the gun in Robert’s hand. He approached the French doors Jaemus had installed and used the gun to break a pane of glass by the door knob. Unlocking the door, Robert slipped inside. He made his way to the couch and sat in the middle of it, facing the door Nika and Jaemus usually used to enter the barn. Checking the gun, Robert waited.

As quickly as the vision came to Jaemus, it disappeared. “I have to go.”

“Where?” Nika asked. “Dawna said she doesn’t know where Robert went.”

He’d missed Dawna’s reply while studying the vision Flidae had sent him. “I have an idea of where to find him. I still want you to wait for the police, sprite. Go with them. Be safe.”

Sirens echoed, and while Nika and the two EMTs looked in the direction of the sound, Jaemus took off again. When he was far enough away, he shifted to full wolf, shedding his clothes and increasing his speed toward Nika’s barn.

Robert would be expecting Nika or Jaemus or both of them. He wouldn’t be expecting a large, silver wolf with razor-sharp teeth and claws strong enough to gut a man.

Claws that want to gut a man.

Robert Senclair didn’t deserve to live. Maybe Jaemus wasn’t the one to make that decision, but he had made it just the same. They’d gone the legal route, and Senclair had found a way around that.

No more. No more chances for this menace.

Soon Nika’s property came into view ahead of him. Seeing the ruined trading post made Jaemus’s chest ache. Its dark, hollow silhouette looked like something out of a nightmare. He wished he could remove all the debris before Nika had to witness the decimation.

But he had another task to attend to. A task that waited inside the barn.

Skulking in the shadows, Jaemus approached the French doors, one of which was still open. Careless. That gave him hope that Robert was not as focused as he’d probably like to be. Perhaps whatever caused him to limp was more serious than Jaemus knew. Maybe the man was too far out of his mind to worry about the details. Possibly Robert thought a gun would be enough.

Jaemus, however, had learned from his experience with a gun earlier tonight. Though he understood it could do great damage, he now also knew that it was only as good as the condition of the one in possession of the weapon.

Take that man down and a gun was useless.

He peered into the barn, easily finding Robert’s head resting on the back of the couch. His couch. One he’d made love to Nika on loads of times. One he hoped to use in that way again. Soon.

As he put a paw into the barn, something nudged his right flank. Turning his head, he was surprised to see two more wolves.

Brandy? Reardon?

Aye. Though Reardon’s black wolf mouth hadn’t moved, Jaemus had heard his brother’s voice loud and clear in his head.

You two shouldn’t be here. He didn’t want to have to worry about them getting hurt.

Maybe not just the two of us, Brandy said.

But a pack is always good to have on your side. Reardon motioned with his black muzzle to the rest of the Silver Moon Sanctuary wolves behind them.

I can’t ask them to risk their lives either.

Brandy shook her head, her ears flicking away bugs. You’re not asking them. They came freely. Since Reardon turned me, my bond with them is tighter than ever. They sensed trouble, and they are here to help.

He has a gun. That would scare them away.

Not for long. Reardon stepped into the barn, Brandy following close behind him. The other wolves streamed in, fanning out in the dark interior.

Even here you have an army, brother. Jaemus poked his nose into Reardon’s furry side.

Reardon’s left ear—the one with the tip missing—twitched. But let’s use this one for worthier causes.

Aye.

Jaemus waited for a five count until the wolves were in position behind the couch. With a powerful leap, he jumped over the couch and landed on top of Robert, pinning the man to the cushions beneath him. His plan had been to overpower the bastard, knock the gun out of his slimy hands, bite a hole in his neck.

End. Him.

Instead, a shot rang out and something warm and wet and crimson stained soft, silver fur.

****

Something squeezed the air out of Nika’s lungs, and she slumped forward in a chair in Sheriff Olsen’s office.

“Nika?”

She heard the sheriff’s voice. Saw him round his desk and come to her. Felt his hand on her back, but she couldn’t reply. She’d been giving her statement about Robert after the second ambulance had dropped Helene and Dawna off at the hospital. She’d gotten to the part where she’d come upon Robert holding a gun to Jaemus’s head by the river near the library. Then the office had spun around her. She’d closed her eyes, figuring all the anxiety tonight had stirred up inside her had screwed with her system.

Nika took a deep breath, but it was as if someone had put her lungs in a vise.

“You’re hyperventilating, Nika.” Olsen went to his desk and grabbed the water bottle she’d been drinking. Uncapping it, he held it out to her. “Here, drink some.”

She took the bottle, even put it to her lips, but pain shot through her chest. The water bottle dropped, bouncing to the floor and splashing water all over her legs.

I’m having a heart attack. Of all the ways she’d pictured herself checking out, a heart attack wasn’t one of them. Starvation? Yes. Bear attack? Yup. Old age? Most likely. But heart attack? Nope. Not once had she considered that option.

And now it was happening.

She closed her eyes, but the blackness she was expecting didn’t come. Instead an image of a huge silver wolf covered in blood filled the back of her eyelids. She’d never seen Jaemus in his wolf form, but somehow she knew that silver wolf was him. She felt it was him.

“Oh, God...” She coughed, keeping her eyes closed, hoping to see more, praying to see that Jaemus was all right. The only other thing she saw, however, was the inside of her barn... and other wolves. Brandy’s wolves, plus two more she didn’t recognize but assumed were Brandy and Reardon. They were huddled around something she couldn’t see, growling and barking.

“Nika, I’m getting you an ambulance.” Olsen pushed her hair out of her face, no doubt preparing to resuscitate her himself if it came to that.

Slowly, she sat upright. That silver wolf—her Jaemus—definitely looked as if he needed an ambulance, but Nika couldn’t imagine werewolves enjoyed physical examinations. Those probably instigated a host of questions no werewolf wanted to answer.

Besides, didn’t werewolves heal quickly? Maybe the vision she’d seen had just happened. That was why Jaemus looked so bad. Perhaps he was already healed by now.

“No, no ambulance.” Not for her. Not for Jaemus. “But I have to go home. The stress of the day is catching up to me.”

The sheriff was about to object, but then he said, “Okay. Sure.” He went back to his desk and turned his laptop toward Nika. “Can you finish your statement first? I’ve sent teams out to hunt for Senclair, but the more documentation against him we have, the better off we are.”

Nika nodded and typed furiously until everything she had on Robert was included. “That should do it.” She slid the laptop back toward Olsen. “If you have any other questions—or if you find the bastard—let me know.”

“Will do.” Sheriff Olsen stood when she did. “Let me get a patrolman to take you home.”

“Thanks, but I’m okay to drive.” She smiled at his raised eyebrow. “Seriously.” She put her hand up as if taking an oath. “I promise. I’ve got this.” Because she needed to get this without police supervision.

“I’m not only concerned about whether or not you can drive, Nika. Senclair is still out there somewhere. You shouldn’t be unprotected.”

Right. A nasty detail.

“Can an officer follow me home?” Maybe she’d be able to think of a way to lose him on the drive to her barn.

“A good compromise.” Olsen smiled. “Thanks for letting me feel as if I’m doing my job properly.”

In five minutes, Nika was on the road home. As each mile ticked by on the odometer, she checked her rearview to see the officer tailing her. She wasn’t going to be able to lose him. She’d have to hope he was an open-minded guy who wouldn’t freak out about anything he may be about to see at her barn.

Or better yet, maybe there wouldn’t be anything to see at her barn. Maybe that vision was her mind toying with her. Maybe Jaemus would be waiting for her on his couch, ready to spend the night making wild love to her.

She increased her speed, and when she reached her property, she guided Brandy’s SUV around to the barn with the officer parking right behind her. As she led him to the door, she begged anyone who would listen for a damn miracle.

After she pushed open the door, the officer insisted that he go in first. Nika let him pass and low growls emanated from the interior.

“What the hell...” The officer stumbled back a step, reaching for his gun.

In the dimness of the barn, Nika could see several sets of eyes reflecting back at her. “Just wolves. From the sanctuary next door. They’re very protective. I’m certain I’ll be fine here.” She stilled his hand on his gun.

After studying her and the wolves for a moment, the officer released his weapon and pulled out his phone. A minute later, Nika heard, “This is Reeves. Ms. Skarvinski has reached her home and the place is secure.”

“Roger that,” came back. “Join the hunt for Senclair then.”

Reeves pocketed his phone. “You’re sure this is okay?” He gestured over his shoulder where the wolves sat like a furry barrier between her and whatever was behind them.

“Positive. They’re like big puppies. They like visiting me.” She edged him toward the door. “Thanks for your escort.”

With a hesitant nod, Reeves left and Nika quietly shut the door, locking it. She whirled around to face the big black wolf who had come forward from the pack.

“Reardon?”

The wolf bowed his head and let out a short bark. He backed up toward the couch where the other wolves had moved to make a path. When Nika saw the silver wolf sprawled on the floor in front of the couch, she ran toward him.

“Jaemus!”

She fell to her knees beside the wolf’s body. A wheezing sound escaped from the wolf on each short pant of breath. Blood matted the beautiful silver fur and pooled on the hardwood floors Jaemus had refinished.

“He’s going to heal, right?” She stared into Reardon’s green-gold eyes.

He lowered to his belly, whining cries echoing from the other wolves as they licked the silver wolf’s face.

Is this wound too bad to heal?

Was she losing Jaemus right now?

“No. God, no.” She had to get him help. “Brandy. Where’s Brandy?” The wildlife biologist would know what to do. According to their story, Brandy had helped Reardon when he’d been shot in wolf form and Reardon had been okay. “Where is she, Reardon?”

Reardon barked at the open French doors, and Nika dug out her cell phone. She dialed the sanctuary.

“I’m coming. Ran back to my place for supplies,” Brandy said when she answered.

Thank God.

A bright light flashed, illuminating the entire barn’s interior. In that instant, Nika saw two things. The first was Robert Senclair backed into a corner of the barn by a quartet of Silver Moon wolves, their jaws snapping and snarling growls vibrating menacingly.

The second thing was a gorgeous woman with long, raven hair and a flowing white dress. She floated above Jaemus and Nika, regarding them with glowing eyes.

“This wolf is dying,” the woman said. “I shall take him.”

Nika let her cell phone drop. “Please don’t. Please don’t take him. Help him, Flidae.”

The woman angled her head and met Nika’s gaze directly. “You know me?”

“I assumed you must be the goddess of wild things if you’ve come for this wild thing.” Nika motioned to Jaemus, whose chest barely rose and fell now. “But I don’t want you to collect him. And I don’t want him to die.”

“Why?” Curiosity flickered on Flidae’s unnaturally perfect face.

Reardon came over, but he instantly cowered when Flidae held out her hand as if she’d silently ordered him to mind his own business.

“I love Jaemus. He means everything to me. I don’t want to be here without him.” Nika pressed her palm against the silver wolf’s cheek, gently petting the fur there. She ran her finger along a line where no fur grew at his jaw—where that scar that cut through his beard must be when he was a human. Her tears fell, mixing with Jaemus’s blood. “He was trying to protect me.”

“From what?”

“Him.” Nika pointed to Robert, still held captive by wolves.

“If you’d just agreed to my terms, Nika,” Robert said, “no one would be dying right now. But you didn’t. You let your stupid Wolfman get between us.”

Flidae turned to look at Robert. She floated over to him, his eyes going super wide, his skin paling. Inhaling deeply, she immediately backed away. “You smell like evil.”

Robert opened his mouth, but Flidae raised her hands and his jaws snapped shut.

“You killed my wolf.”

“He attacked me.”

“Because you threatened his mate.”

“His mate? He’s a goddamn wolf. Besides, Nika is supposed to be my mate.” Robert’s voice rose, but the wolves each took a step closer, their low growls baring more of their teeth.

Flidae shook her head, her black hair swishing about her shoulders. “Anyone can see her mate is my wolf.”

At her knees, Jaemus took in a shuddery breath. His golden brown eyes opened and he looked at Nika.

“Hi, Wolfman.” She buried her face in the fur at his neck.

I love you, sprite.

Nika bolted up at the sound of Jaemus’s voice in her head. She was about to say she loved him too, would love him forever if he stayed with her, but his eyes closed again, and he was gone.

Chapter Sixteen

One minute he was looking at his beautiful sprite’s face. The next he was surrounded by total blackness. His chest felt hollow, as if someone had come along and scooped out everything that was supposed to be in there.

Slowly, light filtered in and he found himself lying on a stone wall, lush green hills on either side of him. The sky above was a deep blue, cloudless and perfect. A lilac breeze tousled his hair.

Where am I?

He sat up, but there was no one else around. Just a trail of stone wall that went ahead of him and behind him for what seemed like forever. The green hills also stretched to the horizons, bunches of leafy trees breaking up the expanse here and there.

Jaemus swung his legs over one side of the wall. Though the sunshine was bright and golden, something about it didn’t feel right. Its warmth didn’t penetrate his skin.

He was cold.

Turning his hands over in his lap, he recoiled when he found them to be covered in blood. Then his eyes fixated on his chest where a gaping hole of ruined organs and flesh stared back at him.

Gods... what’s happened?

“You’re dead, warrior wolf.”

He snapped his head up to see Flidae walking along the wall as if showing off her incredible balance. Her black hair and white robes undulated around her as she approached.

“Dead?”

“Quite.”

An image of Nika slumped over a large silver wolf on the floor of her barn flashed into his head. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed, his name mixing in with her crying.

His chest no longer felt hollow. Now it felt as if someone had ripped his heart out with the reciprocating saw he and Reardon had used when renovating Nika’s barn. And the blade had been dull, cutting up his flesh in slow motion, leaving behind jagged bits of ruined skin.

“No.” He looked up at Flidae. “Please, let me go back to her.”

Nika’s crying wounded him worse than Senclair’s gun. He couldn’t stand to see her in pain.

“You’ve saved her from that man the other wolves cornered. You’ve done something worthy,” Flidae said. “That means I send you back to Ireland of your time anyway. Even if you weren’t dead, you would be leaving her behind.”

He shook his head. “I won’t leave Nika. She is my soul mate. We belong together. For more than a few weeks. Maybe I don’t deserve to be happy forever, but she does. She deserves everything good in this world.”

“And you think you’re something good?” Flidae raised an eyebrow, a smirk on her red lips.

“I’m something good... for Nika. I’ve never been anything good before. The bastard son of the town strumpet. The mercenary who killed for riches. The brother of a werewolf. A werewolf myself.” He jumped off the wall and stood tall as Flidae meandered toward him, still balancing on the wall on hooves that changed to feet every now and again. “I was a beast long before Reardon turned me. I realize that now. But Nika... she changed me. Changed me into something better, something that can love and be loved. By her.”

Nika’s crying echoed all around them and he knew Flidae heard it too because she winced at the sound and grabbed her own chest.

“I want to return that love,” he said. “I want to make Nika’s life the best it can be. I want to live for as long as possible, not for me, but for her.”

“These human women bring out the best in you wolves, don’t they?” Flidae scanned the horizon, squinting at the golden sunshine.

Jaemus followed her gaze to see the green hills slowly vanishing. The sunshine dimmed, but he could feel its warmth now.

“Like your brother, you don’t wish to return to Ireland of your time?” Flidae put her hands on her hips as she regarded him.

“I wish to remain with Nika.” Was he actually going to get the chance to be with his sprite?

“Then you must earn her.”

Flidae jumped off the wall and pushed him. Hard. He fell backward, unable to stop himself. He squeezed his eyes closed, bracing for impact with the ground, but instead found himself back in his wolf body.

In the barn.

With Nika.

Her tears had soaked his fur, but when he turned his head, she popped up and looked at him with wet, red-rimmed eyes.

“You’re breathing,” she rasped. “You’re not dead.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and squeezed until he almost wasn’t breathing again. “Are you healing?”

Aye, sprite. I’ve been given another chance to earn you.

“You have me, Jaemus. My God, you have me.” She wiped her eyes then pressed kisses to his muzzle.

He could get used to that.

Must convince Flidae.

Nika swiveled her head, searching the barn. “Where did she go? I’ll convince her. I’ll show her.”

My duty, sprite.

“But you’re still hurt.” She gestured to the wound still oozing blood on his chest.

Aye, but it’s healing. I can feel it. Just need a bit more time. And some food.

Nika looked to the corner of the barn where the Silver Moon wolves still had Robert surrounded. “I think they’re giving you the time you need.” She got up and went to his kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator.

Jaemus stayed as still as possible on the floor by his couch. Nika came back to his side, feeding him bits of fruit salad she’d brought over. Reardon stood sentinel in wolf form behind her. He couldn’t ask for a better circle of protection as his body mended itself. When Brandy bustled in with her vet partner, Parker, and a kit of medical tools, he knew they’d speed up the healing process for him.

“I’ll call the police to get Robert.” Nika pushed to her feet.

No.

“He needs to stay in wolf form if he wants to heal faster,” Brandy said. “Although...”

“Although what?” Nika wrung her hands as she looked at all the blood everywhere.

Parker leaned closer to Jaemus. “This appears to be healing way faster than Reardon’s gunshot wound did. As if...”

“Flidae is helping him,” Brandy finished.

“Right. Okay. Thank you, Flidae. Thank you.”

Aye, thank you...

Nika cast a wary glance toward Robert.

I will take care of him, sprite. He couldn’t see Robert, but could smell him and hear the other wolves growling. He doesn’t have his gun, does he?

Reardon pawed at something by the chair perpendicular to the couch.

Nika went over to Reardon and picked up what Jaemus assumed was Robert’s gun.

Set it on the table.

She did as he asked. He was surprised that she could hear him. Brandy and Reardon had explained that the psychic connection had happened for them after Reardon had turned Brandy. Maybe Flidae was cutting him a break with Nika... because he’d died and all.

Now sit by me, sprite.

Again, Nika heeded his request. Having her close made him stronger. When she gently lifted his head and put it in her lap, her loving fingers rubbing his ears, he knew her touch made him stronger too.

He closed his eyes, focusing his energy on the wound in his chest that Brandy and Parker had now finished tending. He willed the tissue to re-knit itself, to make him whole again. He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there with his head in Nika’s lap, but when he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in wolf form.

“Hi,” Nika said when his gaze met hers, a slight smile on her gorgeous lips.

“I changed,” he said. “In your lap.”

She nodded, her fingers combing his hair back away from his face.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He made a move to get off her, but she stopped him with a hand to his chest—his healed, but scarred and slightly achy chest.

“I’m not.” Her gaze traveled down the naked length of him, her pupils huge and filled with desire. For him. “Do you have any idea how beautiful it was to see you heal then turn from wolf back to man? This man. The one I love with all my heart.”

He clasped her wrist and slid her hand out of the way so he could sit up and cup her face. Capturing her lips with his, he put everything he felt for her in a kiss. He didn’t have the words to tell her how much he loved her, but he hoped that kiss said it all.

When she wrapped her arms around him and deepened the kiss, he knew she understood the depth of his feelings for her. And he understood her feelings for him.

A snarl from the corner of the barn reminded him that he couldn’t enjoy Nika yet. He had more to do first.

“Can you get me some clothes?”

“I have some right here.” She got to her feet and went to the chair.

After he slowly stood, taking a moment to make sure he was fully healed, he put on the jeans and T-shirt Nika had given him.

“I had hopes of you staying naked.” Nika stepped into the circle of his arms.

He laughed into her hair then dropped a kiss on her forehead. “We’ll get back to naked. I promise. For now, go upstairs to your apartment. I don’t want you to see what comes next.”

She tried to take a step back and protest, but he held her tighter against him.

“Nika, please. I want to take care of this and put it behind us. I want you to be safe. Always. Go upstairs.”

With a quick squeeze, he released her, giving her a nudge toward the stairs. She hesitated, but when he grabbed the gun from the table, she let Brandy and Parker, who had come from the sanctuary, guide her up the stairs and into her apartment.

Jaemus nodded at Brandy and Parker when they took up a guard position outside Nika’s door. He then turned his attention to the corner of the barn where Reardon and the rest of the wolves were fencing in Robert. All the wolves’ fur was raised on their backs, all teeth bared, all claws ready. They moved slightly to allow Jaemus to enter the circle. He marveled over how they were willing to let him lead, especially because they were technically Reardon’s pack.

What’s mine is yours, brother. We’re always on the same side.

And wasn’t that nice to know? Despite the rift that had existed between them, forgiveness could unite them again.

Robert glared up at Jaemus then spat at his feet. “Nika deserves better than a... a monster.”

“I definitely agree. That’s why you can’t have her.”

“Me? I’m not the one who... who... can change. Into a feral beast. I saw what happened.” Robert darted his gaze to the other wolves. “Are they all humans under the fur too?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t matter to you either way because your memory is about to be erased.” Jaemus widened his stance as he glowered at the other man.

“You can do that too? Erase my memory?”

Jaemus shook his head. “I can’t, but this can.” He aimed the gun at Robert’s head then lowered his hand to study the weapon. “It’s not a fair fight with this gun though, is it?”

“It wouldn’t be a fair fight anyway,” Robert said. “You’re bigger than me, fitter than me, can whip out a set of claws and fangs apparently. All of that is in your favor along with all these wolves here. I can’t win. I’m going to die here. I know that, but at least I destroyed Nika’s precious trading post. She won’t have enough money to stay here. She’ll have to sell the land now. Maybe not to me, but to some other business savvy genius who knows what to do with a property like this. Knows how to triple its value. Nika learned that Robert Senclair is determined, willing to go to great lengths to get what he wants.”

“You never loved Nika, did you? You just saw dollar signs on her land.” Jaemus’s finger twitched on the gun’s trigger. The desire to shoot this bastard and be done with it was almost too much to ignore.

“Love her? No, but she’s a sweet little number who probably knows how to fuck a guy so he forgets his name. That would have been enough for me if it meant I could have her land.”

Jaemus raised the gun again as the wolves all took a step closer to Robert. “Nika is far too respectable to fuck anyone remotely like you, Senclair.”

“Is she?” He motioned to the gun with a jerk of his chin. “She’s about to fuck a murderer.”

Then you must earn her. Flidae’s voice vibrated in Jaemus’s ears.

Earn her. If he wanted to keep Nika, if he wanted to stay with her in her time, her place, he needed to earn her, be worthy of her.

He glanced down at the gun in his hand, wanting so badly to be rid of Senclair.  Instead, he ignored his baser instincts and reached to the phone hanging on the wall beside him. After dialing, he held the phone to his ear.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” the operator asked.

“The police are looking for Robert Senclair,” Jaemus said. “I’ve found him.”

****

Nika slumped against her apartment door. I should be down there. She wasn’t sure why she’d listened to Jaemus when he’d insisted she go to her apartment. Robert Senclair was her problem. Not Jaemus’s. She was the one who should be dealing with him.

Screw this.

She turned around, prepared to open her door and handle things, but something slammed her into it before she could.

“I think we’ll stay up here while those wolves are still downstairs.” The voice that whispered into her ear was scratchy, his breath hot and stinky at her neck. “I always hated dogs.”

Nika tried to turn around, but whoever pinned her to the door applied more force, making movement on her part impossible.

“Who are you?” She had seen six of Robert’s men tonight. They’d all been lying in a heap, unconscious or nearly so after their encounter with Jaemus. So who did that leave to be skulking around her dark apartment?

“I work for Mr. Senclair when his other men are busy.”

“Bloody you mean. I saw them.”

“Saw what your boyfriend did to them.”

She shrugged. “They started it.”

“Well, on Mr. Senclair’s word, I can end it.”

That made Nika sick to her stomach... and mad. Mad as hell. Robert had harassed her for months over buying her land. He’d made every attempt to get her to sleep with him. He’d burned her business down. He’d shot the only man she’d ever loved, killing him. Fortunately, she picked men who didn’t go down so easily.

She was done with Robert Senclair meddling with her happiness.

Balling up her hand, she rocketed it back, sending it firmly into Senclair’s lackey. His nuts squished against her hand. In the next instant, he was on his knees, cupping said nuts in his hands. Low moans of pain and hissed curses filled her apartment, but she didn’t stick around long enough to hear any more than that.

She ripped open her door, pushed past a stunned Brandy and Parker, and nearly fell down the stairs in her haste. When she spilled into the larger barn space, she skidded to a halt and took in the sight of Jaemus leveling a gun at Robert with the other wolves flanking either side of him. She’d sensed earlier that Reardon was the Alpha, but perhaps Jaemus had the potential to be Alpha too. His stance commanded power, his body rippling with strength and control.

If she wasn’t so afraid someone might end up dead, she’d be turned on by the sight of Jaemus right now.

As Brandy and Parker caught up to her, sirens grew in volume outside and before she could make her presence known, police officers were rushing into the barn, filling it, taking over. She grabbed one of them by the arm as he went by.

“There’s a man upstairs. In my apartment. He attacked me. He’s one of Senclair’s loyals.”

The officer motioned to two other officers and the three of them marched up the stairs and busted her door in.

“Freeze! Police!” echoed off the walls as they gained control of the situation. Four officers escorted a stone-faced Robert out of her barn. Hopefully, out of her life for good.

Reardon and the Silver Moon wolves filed out of the barn after them, each giving her a quick nod. She’d need a truly spectacular way to repay them for their help. Brandy and Parker followed the wolves out, each of them giving her a hug.

Sheriff Olsen came in right after they left. “Wolves as allies? Not a bad idea, Nika.”

“I find friends in all kinds of places.” Like Ireland. Of the past. Her gaze drifted to where Jaemus spoke with an officer who was furiously typing on a tablet.

“Well, Senclair is cuffed and on his way to the station,” the sheriff said. “I’ve got an uncomfortable jail cell waiting for him, and two of his men admitted to setting fire to your post and theater on his order. They’re willing to tell us about a few other shady things Senclair’s been involved in as well. Turns out his money hasn’t been all that honorably earned. He’ll be trading in his fancy suits for a prison jumpsuit.”

Nika shook Olsen’s hand. “Thank you.”

He tipped his hat at her and followed the rest of his officers out. As quick as the police had arrived on the scene, they exited, taking her biggest problem—Robert Senclair—with them. For a long time, if there was any justice in the world.

Strong arms came around her as she stared outside at the nearly empty driveway. Brandy’s SUV was the only vehicle that remained. Nika leaned back against a hard chest and loved when Jaemus pushed her hair aside to press his warm lips to the back of her neck.

“You didn’t kill him,” she whispered.

“I’m not a killer,” he said. “I used to be. On the battlefield. In the past.” He turned her around and dropped the softest of kisses along her jaw. “That man is gone now. Your love for me turned me into something else. Something more. Something I hope you can continue to love.”

She slid her arms up his chest and squeezed him close. “I’ll love you forever, Wolfman. Forever. That’s a promise.”

“Aye. I promise the same, sprite. Flidae said I could stay with you if I earned you. Not killing Robert—not using werewolf strength to kill—earned her favor.”

“So you don’t have to go back to Ireland?”

He shook his head. “Not unless you want me to.”

“Do you miss your home?”

“Sprite, you’re my home. Everything I want is right here.” He squeezed her in his arms.

With tears in her eyes, Nika reached up onto her toes and kissed him, long and hard, her tongue caressing his, her hands wandering lower, lower, lower until she undid the button and zipper on his jeans. She peeled the denim away from his hips and slipped her hand inside.

“Then I definitely want you to stay,” she whispered, gently biting his earlobe.

“Thanks be to Flidae,” he said on a growl, lowering his head to kiss her.

You earned her, warrior wolf. Your choices did. Live well.

Nika ripped her mouth from his. “Was that Flidae?”

His brows rose. “You heard that?”

“Yes. As clear as if she were standing right here with us.”

“I think she’s always about, watching.”

“Great. Voices in my head. Just what I need.” She rested her forehead against his chest then looked up at him. “In order to be your true mate, do you have to... you know... turn me?” She wasn’t in favor of becoming a wolf herself. Not yet anyway.

“No.” He put his hands on her shoulders, the move putting her at ease. “I was never supposed to be a wolf. I got turned against my will, though I understand why Reardon changed us now.” He shrugged. “I would never change you against your will, sprite. Never.” He touched his lips to hers, a quick peck. “Besides, I don’t plan on being in wolf form often. Human, yes. Wolfman, yes.”

“You don’t need to be a wolfman anymore. The theater is ruined as is the post. There’s no show for you to be in.” Now that the tense moments of the night had passed, Nika’s thoughts turned to the fire and everything that it cost her, everything Robert Senclair had cost her.

“What’s the expression people in your time have?” Jaemus cocked his head to the side. “The show must go on?” He bent his knees to look her in the eyes. “You can rebuild, Nika. You can make this place better than it was. We can. Together.”

And when he said it, she believed him. Together anything was possible.

“You’re right, Jaemus. There will be insurance money, plus your Wolfman Show raked in enough that I was able to put some money away. We’ll make a new Maple Ridge Trading Post.”

“One that will make your tato proud.”

Oh, Tato. I wish you could have met this wonderful man. But maybe he had sent Jaemus to her. And maybe the trading post burning had set her father’s spirit free now that he knew she had someone who loved her. She warmed at these thoughts, somehow knowing them to be true.

“Maybe we can get Reardon to help us design it,” she said.

“Aye. I’d like to work with my brother again.”

“Excellent. We’ll begin plans tomorrow.” She grabbed his hand and led him to the stairs up to her apartment. “But for what’s left of tonight, I have other ideas.”

“If they’re anything like the ideas I have, we’ll be exhausted by sunrise.”

Nika pumped a fist in the air and let out a squeal when Jaemus chased her up the stairs, scooping her into his arms when they got to the open door. He carried her to her bedroom and that predatory look she had come to love seeped into his golden brown eyes.

His glowing golden brown eyes.

He set her on her bed, stripped her clothes off as well as his own, and draped himself over her. What he did to her mouth could only be described as absolutely amazing. When he trailed kisses along her entire body, ending with his tongue stroking her where she wanted him most, Nika was convinced she’d never tire of having this man touch her, love her.

He set her body on fire when he slid his hard arousal into her wet and ready folds, filling her, making her cry his name in ecstasy. She pulled him in deeper with her legs wrapped around him, wanting more of him, wanting him closer, as close as they could be.

She’d lost a great deal tonight, but she’d gained a perfect love tonight too. One that would last a lifetime.

Together, they climbed higher and higher, so high Nika felt as if she were outside her body, watching their pairing. She was weightless, blissful, satisfied beyond belief. From the sounds coming from Jaemus, he was having a wonderful time as well. At the peak, they tumbled, one after the other, on waves of euphoria. Nika was dizzy from the intensity of it all.

Panting, they both lay in her bed, a tangled knot of limbs she had no desire to unravel. Instead she pulled Jaemus closer, loving how he wrapped his muscled arms around her, letting her rest her head on his chest. His fingers lazily scratched her scalp, sending goosebumps over her entire body.

“This fire I like. This wolf fire.” She nestled closer to his warm, solid body, their lovemaking still heating her from the inside.

“It promises to keep you warm for the rest of your life, sprite.” He kissed the top of her head, his rough hand sliding over her breast and kneading it until she was getting wet for him again.

“Does it promise to overheat me now and then too?”

“Aye.”

He pulled her on top of him, his erection seeking entrance once again. She opened to him and shuddered as she accepted each and every inch he offered.

Sometimes a terrible night turned into a terrific night and she thanked God—and a Celtic goddess—for that.

Chapter Seventeen

Jaemus was on his hands and knees running a scrub brush back and forth through soapy water on the hardwood floor of Nika’s barn. The floor where a good deal of his innards had bloodied the wide-planked boards last night. He had to get it clean before Nika came down and it reminded her of what had happened, though it wasn’t likely either of them would forget any time soon.

He’d already hauled his ruined couch outside and tossed it in with the rubble of the burned trading post. He’d also scheduled for Reardon and some men from town to knock down the charred skeleton of the post and clear the site for rebuilding. He wanted Nika to focus on her future and know he was serious about his place in it.

He’d been given a second chance at life and he wasn’t going to waste it.

When the red-brown streaks were gone, he threw away the scrub brush, washed the entire barn floor, and stowed his other supplies. The whole space smelled lemony fresh, and the open French doors let in a wildflower-scented breeze, promising another gorgeous August day in Canville.

In his small kitchen, Jaemus set about preparing a breakfast worthy of the first day of the rest of their lives—pancakes, pure Vermont maple syrup, scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit. By the time Nika came down, he had the spread of food set out on his kitchen table he’d dragged to the patio on the other side of the French doors. The morning sun filtered through the trees and shed flickering golden light over everything.

You’ll earn her all over again with actions like this, warrior wolf.

He chuckled at Flidae’s comment, not minding her intrusion into his head for once. “I plan to earn her every day.”

Ambitious.

He was about to reply, but a floorboard creaked behind him. Turning, he saw Nika walking toward him. Her chestnut hair was pulled back, showing more of her perfect face. Silver dragonfly earrings dangled from her ears and a white stone pendant on a silver chain rested between her lovely breasts. A long, sleeveless, green dress hugged her curves in all the right ways. And though she looked beautiful, the desire to remove that dress exploded inside him.

“Good morning, sprite.” He met her at the French doors, gathering her into an embrace.

“Yes, it is. Despite everything bad that happened last night, today is a good morning.”

She pressed her lips to his, and he was certain every day needed to begin this way. With her in his arms. Her sweet mouth on his. Her scent filling his nose and making him glad to be alive.

“Hungry?” he asked, gesturing to the table heaped with food.

“I seem to have worked up an appetite.” She arched a brow at him, a sexy grin on her lips.

He pulled out a chair for her, pushing it in when she sat. “Aye. Time to refuel so we may repeat that workout.”

“My thoughts exactly.” When he sat opposite her, she held up her orange juice glass and he did the same. “To the future.”

“Our future.” He clinked his glass to hers.

They both dug into the breakfast as Jaemus filled her in on the debris removal.

“We’re on the same page, Wolfman,” she said. “When I got up this morning—and sadly, found you not in bed with me—I wrestled up some graph paper and started thinking about new trading post layouts. I have a few ideas.”

“I can’t wait to see them.” He loved how her cheeks colored over his interest in her ideas and was about to tell her so when Carrie and Zavier jogged across the gravel driveway toward them.

“Nika!” Carrie shouted, a look of relief on her face. “Holy shit, we saw the post and... and...” She bent forward, trying to catch her breath.

Zavier put his hand on her back, breathing just as hard. “We thought you were toast too.”

Carrie nodded, tears in the young girl’s eyes when she straightened.

Nika ran down the patio steps and gathered the girl in her arms. “Oh, Carrie.” She held a hand out to Zavier, pulling him in close. “Zavier, I’m so sorry. So much happened last night, I didn’t think to call you guys and tell you not to bother coming to work.”

“Because work no longer exists.” Zavier pointed to the blackened remains of Maple Ridge Trading Post. “What happened?”

Nika and Jaemus filled the two teens in, leaving out the part where Jaemus, in wolf form, almost died and ending with the glorious news that Robert Senclair was in police custody and wouldn’t be seeing the outside of a jail cell for a good long time.

“Damn,” Carrie said. “It all sounds like something out of a movie.”

“I’m surprised you two didn’t hear about it from someone. The entire town must know by now,” Nika said.

Carrie gave Zavier a look Jaemus wasn’t sure how to interpret, but Nika must have because she let out a whistle.

“You two went out last night, didn’t you?” She tugged the two of them to the table on the patio and pushed them into two of the chairs. Sitting across from them, she put her chin in her hands and gave them her full attention. “Spill. All the details. Right now.”

Jaemus came to sit beside her, unable to take his eyes off the happiness on her face.

Zavier slid his arm across the back of Carrie’s chair, his hand resting on the girl’s shoulder. “I got tired of watching how happy you two were.” He thrust his free hand out toward Nika and Jaemus.

Carrie looked at him, adoration clear in her eyes. “Me too. So I said, ‘Zavier, pick me up at seven.’ To which he said, ‘For what?’” She rolled her eyes as Nika laughed. “Boys are so clueless sometimes.”

“Hey.” Zavier frowned.

“It’s true.” Carrie patted his cheek. “But you’re also sweet, funny, talented... and a whole bunch of other stuff.”

“So where did you guys go?” Nika asked.

“Well, we wanted to keep our first official date top secret,” Carrie said.

“Yeah, so her dad doesn’t kill me.” Zavier shifted in his seat, but he kept his arm around Carrie. “We went to dinner two towns over, then to a movie under the cover of darkness.”

“How did the date go?” Nika asked.

The looks on the teenagers’ faces now were ones Jaemus totally understood. They conveyed the exact feelings he had for Nika, his mate. Love. Adoration. Partnership.

“I think we have our answer,” he said, gesturing to the teens.

“But we didn’t say anything,” Carrie said.

“Didn’t have to.” Nika reached across the table and took their hands. “Tell me you have more dates planned.”

Zavier looked at Carrie, a grin on his lips. “Well, I suppose she didn’t totally piss me off all night. I could hang with her again.”

Carrie shot her elbow into his side, making him jerk away with a laugh. “I suppose if I don’t have anything better to do, I could spend more time with this idiot.”

“Umm, I believe you referred to me as a genius last night. A kissing genius, specifically.”

“OMG, you did not just say that out loud.”

“I did, and I’m thinking of having a T-shirt made.” Zavier planted a wet, sloppy kiss on Carrie’s cheek.

The girl wiped it off, feigning disgust, but even Jaemus could see the delight in her eyes.

“So what’s the plan for the trading post?” Carrie asked, her expression turning serious.

“Rebuild,” Jaemus said.

“Bigger and better. With an even more kickass Wolfman Show.” Nika patted Jaemus’s forearm under the table, her hand wandering a bit and almost making him growl. She smirked when he caught her hand and flattened it under his own on his thigh.

As much as he liked Carrie and Zavier, it was time for them to go. They couldn’t be around for what he planned to do to Nika. If he worked quickly, he’d have time to remind her how much he loved her before Reardon showed up to demolish the rest of the post.

“Why don’t we have a little party tonight, Nika?” Jaemus stroked her hand under the table.

“A party?” Excitement zipped across her face.

“Aye. One to celebrate that good won over evil, that we’re going to rebuild, that we have two of the finest employees right here, that these two employees are dating, that my brother and I have started over, that Robert Senclair got what he deserved.” That Flidae brought me back from the dead and is letting me stay here with you. “You know, a party that says things are good.”

“Yeah, a party. Okay.” Nika clapped and turned to Carrie and Zavier. “What do you say? Are you two in?”

“Definitely,” Zavier said.

“We don’t say no to parties,” Carrie added. “Especially ones thrown by the best boss in the world.”

“Are you two willing to get us some supplies?” Jaemus asked.

“Sure.” Carrie stood as did Zavier.

Nika squeezed his thigh under the table as she no doubt realized he was totally getting rid of the teenagers. “Let me put together a quick list.” She ran inside, leaving the teens on the patio with Jaemus.

He looked up to find Zavier staring at him.

“You’re going to take care of Nika, right? Like even after we’ve gone off to college?”

“I plan to take care of Nika for as long as she’ll let me.” Jaemus held his hand out to Zavier.

Shaking hands, Zavier said, “Good. Nika has always been amazing to us.”

“It’s time someone was amazing to her,” Carrie finished.

“You can count on me.” Jaemus respected the hell out of the concern these two showed for Nika. He loved that she had people like that in her life. People who realized how amazing she was.

Nika came back onto the patio with a piece of paper. “This is a quick list, but if you guys think of anything else, add it.” She pushed the list into Carrie’s hand along with some cash.

“Got it, Boss.” Carrie tugged on Zavier’s hand. “Come on. I need someone to carry the bags.”

“You need someone to make sure you don’t make this an all chocolate ice cream party.”

“This is true. Not that an all chocolate ice cream party would be a bad idea.” With a wave, Carrie led Zavier away.

Nika turned around and chuckled when she found Jaemus had come up right behind her. Wagging a finger at him, she said, “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to, Wolfman.”

“Don’t pretend you don’t want me to be up to what you think I’m up to, sprite.” He caught her finger between his teeth and gently bit down then soothed the area with his tongue.

Nika closed her eyes. “I have a party to plan now.”

“First part of the party plan is this.” He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, hauling her inside and over to his bed in the barn.

After he dropped her in the center of it, Nika pulled him down on top of her, her arms firm around him. “Marathon lovemaking, fabulous breakfast, more lovemaking. A girl could get used to this.”

“So could a man. Even a wolfman.”

****

Nika expected to feel sadder watching the rubble of Maple Ridge Trading Post being carted off. As Reardon, Jaemus, and a few other men from town did the deed, however, only excitement coursed through her. That trading post had been Tato’s through and through. So much of him had been infused in the original building and business. She’d worked there and he’d definitely included her on all important decisions, but for the first time, she’d be building something that was uniquely hers. Custom designed to fit what she thought would draw in customers and appropriately represent the local charm of Canville.

She’d spent a part of the day furiously scribbling notes and diagrams on graph paper as she sifted through the many ideas swirling around in her head. She wanted to capture everything then make a solidly informed decision when it came down to actual design time. Zavier had proven to be super helpful in the brainstorming. As soon as the teens had returned from getting party supplies, Zavier had shown an immediate interest in Nika’s sketches. He’d picked up a pencil himself and offered at least five new ideas Nika never would have thought of on her own.

Carrie gave her suggestions for attracting the teenage crowd that were doable. When these two kids went off to college next year, Nika would need replacements—as much as she would miss Carrie and Zavier—so having a pool of teens around the post would be an advantage. Plus if a spot was popular with teenagers, there was a good chance they’d tell others about it and word would spread that the new Maple Ridge Trading Post was the place to be.

“This batch is done, Nika.” Meredith set a tray of chocolate chip cookies on the counter in Jaemus’s kitchen. She and Brandy and Dylan had come over to help cook as soon as they’d heard Nika was hosting a party. Daisy sniffed around at all their feet, looking to clean up anything sweet that may have dropped during baking. Unfortunately for the pup, the Wendons were the neatest cooks Nika had ever seen.

“Great. I’m sure we have enough desserts now.” She scanned the counter littered with the cookies, a platter of cupcakes, a blueberry pie, and a carrot cake. “The whole town isn’t coming.” In fact, she’d only invited the Wendons, Reardon, Carrie, Zavier, and her Red Riding Hood and Huntsman from The Wolfman Show at Jaemus’s request.

“So we eat sweets for the next week,” Brandy said, grabbing a cookie and taking a bite. “I don’t see a problem with that.”

“Sounds great to me.” Dylan giggled when he stole a cookie and Meredith waved her spatula at him.

“You two and your sweet teeth.” Meredith shook her head, but then stole a cookie for herself. “Oh, now that’s a good cookie.”

Nika couldn’t stand idly by while they all munched on cookies. She picked up one, inspecting the cookie-to-chip ratio and approving of Meredith’s mathematics. The first bite was warm, chewy, and heavenly.

“Holy cow, that’s incredible. We probably don’t need any of this other stuff.” She waved her hand over the veggie and dip platter, the chips and salsa dish, and the condiment tray waiting to adorn some burgers.

“No,” Dylan said. “We need it all.” The boy’s eyes widened as he scanned everything, licking his lips.

Nika peeked out the French doors where the purples and pinks of dusk colored the darkening sky. “We also need Reardon and Jaemus, Carrie and Zavier, Red and Hunty. Where did they go?” She stepped out onto the patio, a gasp escaping when she saw the strings of white lights wrapped around a circle of trees near the barn. “How pretty!”

“We should take a closer look.” Meredith edged Nika down the patio stairs, Brandy, Dylan, and Daisy following behind them.

Mesmerized a bit by the lights, Nika allowed herself to be guided to two benches at the rim of the circle, realizing that the area reminded her of the theater she’d lost. She sat with Brandy and Meredith on either side of her and Dylan on the ground at their feet with Daisy cuddling up to the boy. When Reardon, Carrie, and Zavier joined them on the other bench, Nika craned her neck, searching for Jaemus, Red, and Hunty.

“Where are—” Her question fell dead on her lips when Red and Hunty appeared in the circle of lit trees.

“Welcome.” Hunty bowed low as Red curtsied beside them. “Tonight there will be a special presentation of The Wolfman Show for our esteemed audience.” He arced his arms out to indicate Nika and her gathered friends.

“Relax and enjoy,” Red said as she twirled, letting her red hooded cloak billow out around her as she followed Hunty off stage, so to speak.

The lights flickered out and all Nika could see were some silhouettes moving about the perimeter of the tree circle. A few moments passed and when the lights jumped back on, Red was in the middle of the stage, but instead of her red cloak, she was wearing one of Nika’s dresses, some of her jewelry, and a wig that looked exactly like Nika’s chestnut hair.

Laughing, Nika watched as Hunty came on stage wearing a chin-length blond wig and doing a hilarious Jaemus impersonation. He pretended to see Red-as-Nika for the first time and a bunch of red paper hearts on strings dropped from tree limbs overhead to surround him. When Red-as-Nika saw Hunty-as-Jaemus, a set of lights organized into Xs and Os around her flashed until she started walking.

The pair met each other in the middle of the stage and all the lights changed to red and pink as they joined hands and gazed at each other like lovesick dopes. They shared a dance to Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran.

Nika’s sides nearly split as she laughed and sang along with those gathered around her. Then the lights went out again and she took a minute to catch her breath, which was hard with Dylan still cracking up as he sat at her feet.

When the lights came back on, the Wolfman—her Wolfman—was center stage.

On one knee.

Holding a ring in one clawed hand. The other one pointed at Nika, his golden brown eyes focused only on her.

She flew off the bench and ran to Jaemus. Her arms wrapped around his furred neck and squeezed as if she’d never let go.

Marry me? His voice was low as it whispered in her head.

She breathed one word into his oversized ear. “Aye.”

A low rumble vibrated in his throat, reminding Nika of a purr, and he nuzzled the curve of her neck with his wet nose. She inhaled his woodsy, wild scent then pulled back from the embrace to look into his glowing golden brown eyes.

“I love you, Jaemus McAlator.” And she would love him for all the days of her life and her next life too.

I love you too, sprite.

She enjoyed hearing his deep voice in her head, knowing they were as linked as true soul mates. She didn’t have to be a werewolf like him to feel the bond to Jaemus, but she was curious about how much deeper they could be connected if he were to turn her. Maybe someday she’d find out. For now, she was content with being his fiancée.

And eventually his wife.

“Take off the mask and kiss her!” Carrie yelled from the benches.

That might be a problem, Jaemus said as he dropped the ring into her palm, his wolfman fingers too large to put the ring on her himself.

Carry me off instead. Nika’s eyes widened when Jaemus followed her advice and scooped her into his arms. You can hear my thoughts?

Aye. Flidae has given us this gift. We’re soul mates, sprite. Linked for eternity.

She absolutely loved how it felt to be in Jaemus’s arms and pressed against all his muscles.

His arms tightened in response. This is right where I want you, Nika. Always.

After slipping the ring on, she cuddled up to him as closely as she could manage and hung on when he bowed to the audience, his arms full of her. He bounded out of the circle of lit trees and hustled back to the barn. Taking the stairs inside three at a time, he arrived at her apartment and set her down. He tapped a long claw on the stair railing waiting for her to open the door.

“Impatient werewolf, aren’t you?” she teased.

He swiped his tongue along the back of her neck, making her laugh.

Once inside, Jaemus pushed her away from him a little and shifted back to full human. As it had been last night, watching him transform was a beautiful thing to witness. All that silver fur around his head, shoulders, and back slid under his skin. His claws retracted as did his fangs, and his gnarled knuckles smoothed out to reveal the hands she’d come to love—especially when they were touching her.

The light faded from his eyes, but the look he gave her was still predatory. “That didn’t repulse you?”

Her gaze combed down his naked body, landing on his well-endowed package, tempting her hands to move in and bring him pleasure. “Repulse? Shit no. I told you this before. Besides, have you seen yourself naked, Wolfman? You’re freaking gorgeous.”

In two steps she was in his arms again, dropping kisses on his stubbled chin, along his neck, down to his collarbone. Nipping lightly on his shoulder, she grinned when he moaned and moved the strap of her dress aside to press his warm lips to her shoulder.

“Not half as gorgeous as you, sprite.”

They spent a few moments making out like two teenagers before Nika broke free and shook her head.

“I’m a horrible party host. My guests are fending for themselves while I manhandle you up here.” She rested her forehead against his shoulder.

“In light of the fact that you accepted my proposal,” he brought her hand up between them so the engagement ring was visible, “I think our guests are okay with letting us enjoy this moment.” He teased her lips again, and she wanted the party downstairs to be over so she could start this party upstairs. Now.

“Hey, you didn’t actually ask me to marry you out loud.” She pushed her fist into his taut stomach, loving the way the muscles stacked atop each other.

“I don’t have to.” He grinned, an arrogant tilt to his eyebrow. “You already said yes. Can’t take it back now.”

“I wouldn’t want to take it back. You and I belong together.”

He stepped closer to her, his fingers curling around her wrists and tugging her against his naked body, making her instantly wish she were naked too.

“Marry me, sprite.”

“I’ll think about it.”

He rubbed his erection against her. “Marry me, sprite.”

She reached down to wrap her hand around his length, loving how his eyes closed and his head dropped back. “Still not a question. That sounds more like a command, warrior.”

Jaemus groaned, a mix of frustration and arousal. “Will you please marry me, Nika Skarvinski?” He gathered her dress and hiked it up so he could nudge her panties aside and caress her wet folds.

Nika’s ability to speak temporarily fled as they brought each other to a shuddery orgasm with just their hands. She’d be a fool to say no to this, to him.

She cried out his name as they both crested over the wave, then put her lips right against his ear. “Yes, yes, yes. I don’t know the word no when it comes to you, Wolfman.”

“Lucky for me.” He moved his hands to her shoulders, staring deeply into her eyes, focused on her face. “My life was a foolish cycle of traveling, battling, killing, and collecting riches. I could have been satisfied with that life. But now that I know what having a woman like you is like, I could never go back to that old life. Never. I need you, Nika, like I need oxygen.”

“A good fire needs oxygen. Here’s to hoping we’ll keep this wolf fire burning for a long, long time.”

“Let’s burn some more tonight after our guests have gone.” Jaemus caught her bottom lip between his teeth and bit gently before running his tongue over that lip.

Nika loved the way he tasted and knew she’d never grow tired of his flavor, his scent, his presence in her life. She’d been alone for a long time, but those days were over. Waking up each morning with this amazing man beside her would be the perfect start to each day. Working alongside Jaemus as he continued with The Wolfman Show and helped in the new trading post would make the work hours a joy. Falling asleep beside his warm, sexy body would be what she looked forward to day after day.

Well, maybe not just falling asleep...

Jaemus dropped a kiss on her nose then went into her bedroom. When he emerged, he had jeans and a T-shirt on, his feet bare because his boots were downstairs in the barn.

“You know, for a wolfman, you have cute feet.”

He looked down, wiggling his toes. “I don’t think anyone’s ever referred to any part of me as cute.”

Nika pictured him in full warrior armor, brandishing a sword above his head as he met his opponents. “I hope it doesn’t dent your manhood too much to be called cute.”

“I’m sure you have ways to make sure I still feel like a man.” He ushered her to the door and down the stairs.

At the bottom she turned to face him. “We’ll have to experiment.” She reached up and kissed him until he ended up growling and leaning against the wall by the French doors for support.

“Aye. Experiment. Often.”

She touched her still buzzing lips. Would she ever grow tired of such experiments?

Nope. Never.

Epilogue

May, Grand Opening of Maple Ridge Trading Post

Jaemus stood in front of the new Maple Ridge Trading Post in full wolfman form, growling and chasing after visitors as they streamed in for the grand opening. Laughter and squeals of delight filled the spring air. He accidentally scared a few little ones with his fangs and claws, but quickly won them over when he flattened his ears and gave them big, sad eyes. He allowed parents to pet his silver fur and soon even the little ones were giggling.

Reardon and Brandy—officially husband and wife now after a wedding at the sanctuary in October—handed out flyers for The Wolfman Show. A quick glance to the ticket booth showed an overwhelmed Zavier selling tickets like crazy. Fortunately, the new theater seated twice as many guests and from the looks of it, all those seats would be filled on this sunny Saturday.

And hopefully every day after this.

Jaemus knew how much work had gone into creating the new trading post. The results were tremendous with the artsy shop and all its unique wares, including jewelry handmade by Nika herself, the quaint attached restaurant that Rosie’s niece was managing, and the History of the Wolf mini-museum folks walked through before getting funneled into the theater area which had open sides with a roof to allow for rain or shine performances.

Brandy and her partner, Parker, had contributed information and exhibit ideas for the museum along with a little advertising for Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary. Nika had jumped on the idea when Dylan suggested it.

“You know what, kid? That’s a great idea. We wouldn’t be here today if some nice wolves didn’t help us out.” She’d ruffled the lad’s hair then given him a big hug, making Jaemus instantly picture her embracing a child of their own. He couldn’t wait for that day to come. Neither could Nika. They’d set a wedding date for late July with the ceremony taking place right in the new theater, but they’d been trying to get pregnant.

Actively.

And what fun that was.

Jaemus had gotten to know every delectable square inch of Nika’s extraordinary body, and even now, standing amongst the excited guests, he made plans to love her thoroughly tonight.

“Doggie!” A lass of about four tugged her mother over to Jaemus. “Mommy, isn’t he pretty?”

Pretty?

“He definitely is pretty.” Nika came over to stand beside him, the definition of pretty herself in a long lavender dress, her chestnut hair straightened today and falling softly about her face. “And you know what he loves?”

Sexy trading post owners.

Letting him know she’d heard him, she gave him a sideways glance and elbowed him in the ribs, a beautiful grin on that mouth that only this morning had brought him ridiculous pleasure. Nika was thinking the same thing. He could hear it in her head, but her pale green gaze also dropped down to his torn jean shorts before focusing back on the little girl.

“What does he love?” the lass asked, hopping from one foot to the other.

“This.” Nika reached up and scratched Jaemus behind the ear.

The girl giggled and her mother laughed as he let his tongue loll out of his mouth and made appreciative snuffling noises. When he pushed his nose into Nika’s cheek, the lass squealed.

“I want a doggie kiss too!”

Nika looked to the mother. “Is it okay if my Wolfman gives her a kiss?”

“Fine with me.”

Jaemus didn’t miss how the other woman’s gaze coasted over the muscles of his chest.

Nika didn’t miss it either, but she took the little girl’s hand and led her closer to him. “He might get you a little wet. He’s kind of sloppy when he kisses.”

Jaemus put his clawed hands on his hips then pretended to wipe his mouth on Nika’s dress. She batted him away with one hand, still holding onto the girl with the other.

“That really is an amazing costume,” the mother said. “So realistic.”

“Oh, our Wolfman is gifted. Very professional. Only the best for the new Maple Ridge Trading Post, right, Wolfman?”

He nodded vigorously, making the lass and her mother laugh again.

“Okay, first you have to hold out your hand,” Nika said to the girl. “Like this.” She held out hers toward Jaemus. “Then you say, ‘Hello, Mr. Wolfman, my name is Nika and I’d like a kiss.’”

Jaemus took her hand in his clawed one, shook it gently, then leaned forward to nuzzle her cheek.

“Now you try.” Nika nudged the girl toward him.

A little hand stretched up to him. “Hello, Mr. Wolfman, my name is Emily and I’d like a kiss, please.”

Jaemus stuck one long, crooked finger out for her to shake, afraid that he’d crush her tiny hand if he gripped it with his. She wrapped her fingers around his, her shoulders hunched up to her ears as she laughed. The twin pigtails of red hair that bounced on either side of her head made him instantly hope their first child was a lass. A little angel that looked like Nika.

He sniffed at her right pigtail and she grabbed at her hair, trying to keep it away from him. When he batted a wolfman hand at the left pigtail, the lass nearly doubled over with her giggles. Finally, he pushed his nose into her small cheek, letting her pet his muzzle before he backed away.

“Oh, Emily,” her mother said as the child threw herself into the woman’s arms. “Wait until Daddy hears a wild doggie kissed you.”

“Daddy likes cats,” Emily said, wiggling in her mother’s hold.

Jaemus wagged a finger and shook his head.

“No cat people here,” Nika said. “Just doggie folk.”

Keep calling me a doggie, sprite, he warned as he sniffed her hair.

Nika chuckled, pushing him away slightly. What, doggies are a woman’s best friend. Don’t you want to be friends with me?

He growled low in his throat, earning a look from Emily’s mother before Nika edged them toward the trading post.

“Bye, doggie!” Emily called.

Jaemus gave her a wave then continued his antics with the other guests. He caught sight of Meredith serving lemonade and cookies at a table she’d set up by the front door. Dylan and Daisy were playing catch with a few kids on a grassy patch to the left of the parking lot. He assumed Carrie and a few other teen employees they’d hired were hard at work inside the post, ringing up customers’ purchases because everyone who exited the shop carried a Maple Ridge Trading Post bag.

A full one.

This is what a life should be. He finally had it all. A home. A family that included his brother and a pack of real wolves who were as loyal as any men. Maybe more so. A non-brutal way of making money.

And, most of all, the love of a soul mate.

Enjoy, warrior wolf.

I plan to, Flidae, he thought. Thank you.

Opening day flew by in a flurry of activity. The new Wolfman Show was a huge hit according to the roar of the audience as Jaemus, Red, and Hunty did their thing. If someone had told him that being a wolfman would be fun when he’d first found out he’d been turned, he would have bitten that person’s head clean off.

But now he knew that a man could be both human and wolf and have everything he’d ever wanted in life and more.

Shaking his head, he made his way from the theater to the post after his sweep to make sure all the guests were indeed gone. He had plans to make celebratory love to his fiancée after a successful first day.

As he approached the back door of the post to collect Nika, however, a dark shape leaning against the building caught his attention.

“We’re closed for the night, friend,” he said. “We’ll be open at nine tomorrow morning though.”

“Are you the Wolfman?” a gruff voice asked.

“Aye.” Now Jaemus’s senses kicked into full alert mode. He sniffed the crisp night air and took in the man’s faded blue jeans, black boots, and black leather jacket. With a close-shaven head and a ring of brown stubble around his mouth and jaw, the man didn’t look familiar.

But he smells familiar.

As I should, cousin.

Jaemus shot his gaze to the man’s crystal blue eyes. “Kole?”

“Aye.” He gestured to a lone motorcycle in the parking lot behind them. “Been riding across this land. Heard tale of this.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper—The Wolfman Show flyer. “Figured even if it wasn’t one of you, but just costuming, it’d be something to see.” He glanced past Jaemus to the theater. “And it was. You’re either a madman or a genius, Jaemus. Prancing around in the open, all fangs and claws.”

Kole McMannus’s voice was good-humored, but the tight set of his jaw told a different story.

“Where have you been all this time?” Jaemus recalled his time on the island. He hated to think his cousin had been suffering since being banished from Ireland by Flidae.

“Lots of places.” Kole crumpled up the flyer and bounced it between his hands. “Have you seen any of the others?”

“Just Reardon. He lives next door.” Jaemus motioned to the woods that bordered Silver Moon.

Kole let the balled paper fall to the ground between them then nudged it around with his booted foot. “Nice. You’ve found your brother, but I don’t know where mine is. I’ve been looking for Shawn since getting banished.”

Those words pained Jaemus. He’d been angry at Reardon—as it seemed Kole still was—but finding and forgiving his brother had ultimately given him peace. And a second chance with Reardon. “Have you found Erik?”

“No.” A muscle ticked in Kole’s jaw as he folded his arms across his chest.

“Reardon and I can help you look for Shawn then we’ll locate Erik.”

Kole pushed off the building. “I don’t want your help, and I certainly don’t want your fucking brother’s help. His help gets us into these situations.”

He turned and walked toward the motorcycle.

“Wait.” Jaemus jogged to catch up to him. “Don’t go. Come inside. We’ll get you something to eat. We’ll talk.”

“We?” Kole stopped walking and looked over his shoulder at him.

“Nika, my fiancée. She’s inside.”

Kole let out a hoarse laugh. “Aye, right. You McAlator brothers.” He looked up to the starry sky overhead. “Everything always ends in your favor, doesn’t it?”

He kept walking and mounted his bike. With a thunderous roar, the motorcycle tore up the gravel in the parking lot and took Kole away into the darkness.

The door of the trading post opened and Nika came out to stand beside Jaemus. “Who was that?”

He put his arm around Nika, needing something to keep him from shifting and chasing after Kole. “My cousin.”

“Is he coming back?” She wrapped her arms around his waist.

“I don’t know.”

Read on for the next book, WOLF VOW!

WOLF VOW

Book Three

Warrior Wolves Series

––––––––

by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter One

The sandy Irish shore was gone beneath his paws. Instead, frigid snow stretched out in all directions around him. Kole McMannus shook out his wet brown fur and squinted his crystal blue eyes against the blinding white. Dark shadows of trees lined the horizon to his left, and icy peaks of mountains cut into pristine blue sky to his right.

Where am I?

He’d been in Ireland, kneeling with his fellow soldiers—his brothers—before the Celtic goddess, Flidae, protector of all wild things. She was pissed at their leader, Reardon McAlator, who had turned some members of his mercenary army into werewolves so they could slay the Spanish king’s bloodthirsty enemy. Flidae didn’t take kindly to her creatures being used as killers and had banished the turned men, Kole included.

And Shawn. His brother.

Kole immediately sniffed the cold air. He hadn’t been a werewolf long enough to understand how everything worked. He just knew he was hungry all the time and his anger wasn’t as easily controlled as it used to be. Unfortunately, anger was the only emotion coursing through him right now. Directed mostly at Reardon.

He sniffed again, not sure what Shawn smelled like. When his brother was a normal human, he mostly smelled of ale and sweat, like the rest of the army. Kole didn’t smell either of those in this arctic land, but Shawn was probably still in wolf form.

Unless...

No. He refused to believe he and his brother had been separated. Surely Flidae wasn’t that cruel. Was she?

Kole ran toward the tree line, sucking in air that nearly froze his nose. Nothing smelled remotely recognizable. Nothing stirred around him except the snow his paws kicked up as he ran. He skidded to a halt and tuned his ears to his surroundings instead. Perhaps that sense would lead him to his brother.

Standing still, the tree line a few gallops away, Kole listened until his ears stung with the silence. He let out a growl and shifted to human, but the freezing temperatures were too much for his naked flesh to endure.

There was also the headache. The one that pulsed inside his skull when he was in human form. It had started when he’d first been turned into a werewolf, but Reardon had said the change could cause such symptoms. Kole hoped the headaches would subside as time wore on—as he got accustomed to being a werewolf.

Not likely to happen.

He didn’t want to get accustomed to being a werewolf. He actually didn’t care if he was a normal man anymore. Being in wolf form, however... well, that was oddly comfortable. He maybe preferred being a wolf. Being a werewolf though? No. He didn’t want to live a life like that.

After shouting Shawn’s name a few times and getting no response, Kole shifted back to wolf form and continued toward the trees. The sun was slipping to its resting place and those trees were more inviting than the barren white blanket Flidae had tossed him on.

Alone apparently.

She was a tricky wench. Telling the men they had to do something worthy in order to get back to Ireland. How was he supposed to do that when he was the only one here? And where had she sent his brother? Shawn was a capable soldier. He could take care of himself, as could any of the men, but Shawn was the only immediate family Kole had left.

Their mother had died in childbirth along with the sister who wasn’t meant to be. Their father—a seafaring man—had perished a few years later in a shipwreck. When Reardon, their cousin, asked them to join his army, neither brother had to think too hard about their answers.

They hadn’t regretted their decisions either. Reardon had led them to glory in every sense of the word. Hired as mercenaries by rich kings, the army traveled, shed blood, claimed victory, basked in fame, and accepted unimaginable wealth. Kole and Shawn had been happy to be counted among their cousin’s forces.

Until Reardon had shared his curse with them. Betrayal was a difficult concept to swallow, especially from someone they’d all put their complete trust in.

Kole wasn’t blind though. The Spanish king’s enemies would have broken Reardon’s winning streak. Legends would have fallen on the battlefield if Reardon hadn’t taken some action. Kole wasn’t sure being turned into werewolves was the right action, but it hadn’t been his decision to make.

Just my consequence to suffer.

He was more upset by the banishment from Ireland and the separation from Shawn than the werewolf part. He could manage being a wolf. Being without his brother was the worst.

Leaping into the woods, Kole made a vow to find Shawn, no matter what it took. He’d figure out this place, find civilization, ask questions, fight if he had to. Shawn would no doubt be doing the same. They’d find each other.

They would.

Still hoping that perhaps Shawn was here somewhere, Kole shifted back to human again.

“Shawn!” The snow crunched under his bare feet, his toes feeling numb. “Shawn, are you here?” He rubbed his hands up and down his arms, trying to hold on to whatever warmth he might still have inside him.

He wandered deeper into the forest where the wind wasn’t as biting, the trees offering a little protection. What he wouldn’t do for some garments. Being a soldier meant he’d worn armor most of the time, and though the thought of cold iron sent a shiver through him, he’d prefer his fighting gear over nothing right now.

“Shawn, please be here, brother.”

After a few circles around the area that didn’t turn up anything besides more ice-laden trees, Kole cradled his head in his hands, the headache throbbing behind his eyes again. Squeezing his eyes shut, he let out a growl and prepared to shift back to wolf form.

A crack sounded behind him and he whirled around. “Shawn?” He took a few steps in that direction, wanting to shift, but also wanting to be able to talk out loud to his brother. “Is that you?”

Movement happened all around him at once as six wolves emerged from the frosty shadows. Brown fur, black, gray, white blurred as they formed a semi-circle in front of him. Their keen eyes zeroed in on him as Kole’s heartbeat roared in his painful head. He’d had plenty of chances to die on the battlefield. Brutally. Bloodily. Not once did he think he’d be torn apart by wolves in an unknown arctic landscape with absolutely no one to mourn his death.

He went with his first instinct. Run.

Swiveling on his numb heel, he scrambled over frozen brush, cold air burning in his lungs as he ran. Behind him, the wolves’ paws thundered on the ground, sending vibrating shockwaves under his own feet. Growls and snarls sounded as they pursued him. Hot breath flooded his bare backside, and as welcome as that warmth was, he didn’t stop running. If he stopped, he was dead. If he was dead, he couldn’t find Shawn. If he didn’t find Shawn, he’d never forgive himself for suggesting they join Reardon’s army. His brother could have been spared Reardon’s foolish decision to turn them and Flidae’s harsh banishment to punish them.

Shawn followed Kole. Always. Five years younger, he regarded Kole’s thirty-six years of existence as something to be listened to and not questioned. His brother thought him wise. His brother thought wrong. A wise man didn’t find himself running naked from hungry wolves in the snow.

Shift. Flidae’s voice echoed in his head, the word amplifying the ache there. Shaking his head, he kept running, afraid the time it would take him to shift would allow those wolves to sink their teeth into him. He also didn’t want the goddess’s help. She was the one who had gotten him into this predicament in the first place.

Not me. Reardon McAlator.

Aye, right. His cousin. Some of the blame was his, but Kole made his own choices too. Choices that affected Shawn. And not for the better.

A sharp pain exploded in his left heel and he let out a shriek, the likes of which he never would have believed himself capable of. Glancing down quickly, he noted the bloody footprints trailing over the snowy ground as he ran. One of the wolves had bitten him. The scent of blood intensifying their chase.

Maybe Flidae was right. If he shifted, he might outrun them. He could at least heal that bite faster. Perhaps he could show these wolves he was one of them.

Will they accept me?

Only one way to find out, Flidae said.

Not helpful. Why would she be? This was all a game to her.

No game, wolf soldier. Just survival.

Which he wasn’t going to do if he didn’t get away from these wolves.

He burst out of the trees and dug his toes into the snow when a cliff appeared in front of him. An icy cliff. One he continued to slide toward. He had no idea what magnitude of drop waited for him, but if the white-capped peaks at eye-level on the other side of the chasm were any indication, the ride would be a long way down. The edge laughed at him, knowing full well it was about to swallow him whole.

If it didn’t, those wolves surely would.

Kole jammed his heels into the ice-covered snow, his bitten heel screaming in protest as more flesh tore. He glided toward the precipice as the wolves narrowed the gap between them. Their teeth were bared, showing their unhappiness at his intrusion in their territory. Saliva dripped from their mouths only to freeze in the fur around their snapping jaws.

Shift.

He let out a growl as he dropped to all fours and clawed the snow with his hands to stop his glide toward the edge, but his momentum would not be stopped.

With a roar, the wolves leaped at him.

He had a strange moment to observe them in mid-air, all their muscles tensed and ready to rip him to shreds. That moment was enough time for his wolf to explode free.

Kole was a much larger wolf than they were and when they landed, each one of them skittered back, whines cutting through the silence. He bared his own teeth, his hackles raising, making him larger than he already was. His back leg was slick with blood still, but he pushed that aside. His headache was gone, allowing him to focus and think and plan.

He let loose a roar that had the other wolves lowering their tails and back-stepping. His first concern was getting away from the cliff edge so he rushed forward, growling, barking, snapping his jaws until that precipice was no longer a danger.

Now to deal with threat number two.

Kole lunged at the closest wolf, but before he could do any damage, all six of the wolves bowed their heads to him. A few whines still sounded, but their utter submission surprised him.

You lead them now, Flidae said.

Lead? He’d never been a leader. He took charge of Shawn, but that was about it. Kole had always followed. Reardon mostly. And look where that got me.

Lead. Aye. He could be Alpha of this pack. He could stay in wolf form for a while. Just until he figured out how to find Shawn. These wolves could show him the lay of the land, keep him fed, fight any other threats this place held.

He could... enjoy being a wolf. No trying to be both man and wolf. No lamenting what he’d become. No fucking headaches.

Letting out a puff of air as acceptance of their submission, Kole nudged each wolf with his head until all six of them were standing before him.

Food, he thought and, instantly, the wolves took off. The last wolf glanced back at him as if to say, This way, Alpha.

Maybe they could lead him to Shawn too.

He ran after them, but quickly took the lead when the wolves found a moose. His stomach growled. Apparently banishment worked up an appetite.

The wolves fanned out around the moose, using brush as cover, then as a unified front—as an army—they lunged, Kole at the neck of the animal. Bringing down the antlered beast was easy with a pack. Within moments, they were sharing their first meal together. Bonding.

Kole knew he shouldn’t like tearing into the moose’s flesh so much. Blood dribbling down his fur shouldn’t have pleased him. Raw meat shouldn’t have tasted so heavenly.

But gods be damned, it did.

****

Kole snapped awake, sheets tangled with his legs, trapping him. He kicked free and darted his gaze around the room, trying to remember where he was. The taste of fresh moose meat still lingered in his mouth, but that bonding meal had been months ago. He realized that now as his surroundings at Deer Creek Inn came into focus.

The knotty pine-paneled walls and wide-planked barnwood floor. The wrought iron bedframe and hickory nightstands and dresser with bulky, black hardware. The fresh flowers in a mason jar on a small reading table by a rocking chair. The bank of windows overlooking a pond encircled by short green stems nearly ready to bud under the May sun. The cadre of small birds, squabbling at a birdfeeder. The big black cat sunning itself on the porch railing.

He wasn’t in Alaska anymore where Flidae had banished him. He’d left that life of running with his wolf pack to finally find Shawn. He’d nearly abandoned that mission. He’d nearly abandoned being a human altogether. Living with the wolves, acting as their Alpha, had felt more right than anything ever had in his life. They’d hunted together. Tousled. Napped. Fought other wolves who threatened their territory. It’d been a simple life, but one that suited Kole.

Until he forgot who he was.

He’d been in wolf form for so long that the human part of him faded. His former life became a distant memory. Ireland had become just a dream. When he couldn’t recall the features of Shawn’s face—a face he’d seen every day since his brother was born—he’d panicked and shifted quickly to human. He forced himself to be human for a little bit every day until his tolerance for the headaches built up and the details of Shawn’s face sketched back into his mind. Remembering his vow to find his brother, he’d set off from Alaska, from his pack, and had been traveling ever since.

His motorcycle had touched down in almost all fifty states, but he knew Shawn might be in another country entirely. That was fine. He’d search every corner of the globe until he found him. Vermont had turned up Reardon and Jaemus McAlator thanks to some Wolfman Show flyer, so maybe he was finally on a viable lead. He’d already had words with Jaemus. Not overly friendly ones, but not harsh ones either. In fact, Jaemus had offered to help with the search for Shawn.

“Reardon and I can help you look for Shawn then we’ll locate Erik.” Jaemus took a step closer.

Kole pushed off the building. “I don’t want your help and I certainly don’t want your fucking brother’s help. His help gets us into these situations.”

He turned and walked toward his motorcycle.

“Wait.” Jaemus jogged to catch up to him. “Don’t go. Come inside. We’ll get you something to eat. We’ll talk.”

“We?” Kole stopped walking and looked over his shoulder at Jaemus.

“Nika, my fiancée. She’s inside.”

And then Kole had hopped on his bike and left.

He raked his fingers over his scalp now, his closely shaven brown hair bristling under his fingertips. Why did I leave? Perhaps because in his travels across the country, he’d counted on no one but himself. A lone wolf, two wheels, and the open road.

Of course, that technique wasn’t getting him any results. He still didn’t know where Shawn was and the only things he’d accomplished in the nearly yearlong banishment period was communing with real wolves and seeing the United States. Two things he’d enjoyed, but neither qualifying as a something worthy—something to get him back home to Ireland.

With Shawn.

Not going to accomplish anything by staying in this bed either.

He swung his legs over the side and planted his bare feet on the cool wood floor. A dull ache thumped in his head as usual, but he pushed to standing anyway and got into the shower. Wonderful invention, this shower setup. He would miss it if he ever returned to the Ireland of his time, but he’d miss his motorcycle more.

Right after breaking away from the wolf pack in Alaska, he’d wandered into a populated area apparently named Juneau. After a few days of observing—and stealing clothes, food, and money—he’d stumbled into a fishing job. Fishing was one thing he’d done in Ireland to feed the army, and he’d been damn good at it. So good that the captain he worked for in Juneau eagerly took him out on trips and tossed money his way in abundance. Enough that Kole found a place to live and a bike to ride.

He still regretted not showing up one day for work, but the time had come to expand his search. His instincts told him Shawn wasn’t in Alaska. He had no explanation for why he knew that. Werewolf sense perhaps, but he’d gotten that sense in every place he’d landed. Shawn wasn’t in any of those stops.

Vermont is different though. As soon as he’d crossed the state line between New York and Vermont, things had changed. He felt a... connection. He now figured it was because Reardon and Jaemus were here, but maybe Shawn was too.

Finishing in the shower, he quickly dressed in blue jeans and a black T-shirt. He put on his sturdy black boots and grabbed his black leather jacket.

He had to go see Jaemus. Find out what he knew. Talk to Reardon as much as he didn’t want to. Maybe as the original werewolf in the group, Reardon knew how to find the others. It was strange that the two brothers had found each other. Perhaps it wasn’t random coincidence, but werewolf ability. Asking for help sucked, but Kole was tired. He missed his brother and his homeland.

And the lone wolf thing was getting old.

Closing the door to his room behind him, Kole made his way down to the dining room where Aideen Rhodes, the kind woman who ran Deer Creek Inn, set out cups and saucers at round tables. She looked up when he entered the room.

“Ah, Mr. McMannus, good morning to you.” She beamed a sunshine-bright smile at him and before his body could stop him, he smiled back.

“Good morning.” His voice was scratchy with the first words of the day.

“Hungry, are you?” Her words were laced with the faintest of Irish accents, making Kole miss home more than ever.

“Aye.” He sat at the table she pointed to, draping his jacket over the back of a chair.

“Of course you are. Strapping lad like yourself needs a lot of fuel to keep all that going.” She gave him a head to toe glance, one graying eyebrow raised over silver-framed glasses.

“I do have an appetite.” If she only knew the amount of moose and caribou he’d hunted, killed, and tore into with his Alaskan wolf pack.

She raised a finger. “I have just the thing. Help yourself to some coffee and I’ll be right back.” She pointed to a large coffee urn on a side table in the dining room then disappeared behind double doors Kole assumed led to a kitchen, if the smells were any evidence.

Gods, he hoped some meat lived beyond those doors.

He poured coffee into a mug and sat back at the table. Staring at the black liquid, he contemplated what to say to Jaemus and Reardon. He wanted to have it out with Reardon, but he didn’t have any beef with Jaemus. The man might have one with him, though, after their interaction yesterday.

Jaemus had delighted tourists at Maple Ridge Trading Post’s Wolfman Show. If someone had told Kole back in Ireland that Jaemus McAlator would be prancing around some woodland stage, making hundreds of people laugh and cheer, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it.

He’d witnessed it with his own two eyes though, and a surprising flash of jealousy had whipped through Kole. Jaemus appeared happy using his wolfman form to entertain. Damn happy. Of course that might have something to do with the fiancée he’d mentioned, but either way, Jaemus had a life going here. A real one. While Kole had been living like a feral beast in the woods of Alaska among wolves, Jaemus had been building a future.

If Jaemus can...

Dammit. He couldn’t think about building his own future right now. Not until he found Shawn.

When the double doors creaked, Kole expected Aideen and some food so he stood to help, but those long shapely legs encased in blue denim were definitely not Aideen’s. His gaze roamed up to lovely hips and a slender waist. A floral top made of a feminine, flowy material hung from her shoulders, making Kole want to rub his face over the soft material... and soft woman.

Hold on.

He shook his head, but didn’t stop his perusal of this magnificent creature. Long, wavy black-as-night hair spilled around her face and shoulders. Her skin was so pale, flawlessly pale, making her full lips appear redder, her big blue eyes bluer. Gods, she was a vision. Something divine.

Not divine. Flidae’s voice sounded exasperated in his head.

I don’t believe she’s only a human. Her hair reminds me of your beautiful hair.

Flidae let loose a low growl that echoed in his aching head. Not divine, she repeated. And no flattery, wolf soldier.

The goddess rarely lost her patience with Kole. In fact, he often thought she felt bad about banishing him. Several times while he was in Alaska, she’d visited him in a transparent, ghost-like form. Her expression had never been harsh.

Right now, however, she was positively miffed.

Kole hadn’t taken his eyes off the beauty who had entered the dining room, and now the woman regarded him as if he were mentally unstable.

He should say something. He knew that. Staring at her the way he was would result in a negative reaction from her. Surely.

“Hello,” Kole said quietly. Brilliant. He had found company in all the states he’d been in by being far more gifted with words than hello. Of course he was gifted in more than just sweet talking. Being part of a legendary army back in Ireland had earned him a veritable buffet of lasses and he’d eaten. Heartily. Luckily, the skills he’d honed back home worked just as well in this time.

Beauty rolled her haunting dark blue eyes and pursed her dangerous-looking lips. Lips that Kole had ideas about.

“How did you find me?” Her voice was a song, light and melodic, with the same slight accent that Aideen had. “We were very careful about keeping our location a secret.” Her hands came to rest on her hips as she regarded him, a stern look in those enchanting eyes.

“Find you?” What was this lass talking about?

She stepped farther into the room and he took a couple steps back without thinking. Kole McMannus did not shy away from a lass. Ever.

He braced his feet shoulder-width apart and folded his arms across his chest. A grin slid along his lips when Beauty’s gaze dropped to take in his biceps. That was the thing about running around in wolf form for so long. The exercise applied its benefits to both wolf and human form.

She quickly snapped her gaze back up to his face. “Have you been following us? I’ll call the police.” After digging a hand into her back pocket, she held up a phone with an intricate design on the back. A red skull with a black shamrock emblazoned on the cheek bone. The teeth were turned up slightly so it appeared the skull was sneering.

Kole instantly loved the design. “I couldn’t be following you, Beauty. I don’t even know you.”

She narrowed her eyes with all the sass of a Celtic goddess, but her heart drummed rapidly. Kole had never heard a rhythm quite like that even with his keen werewolf hearing. It... excited him.

“You don’t know who I am?” She smirked and even with all that attitude, she was radiant. “I don’t believe you.”

“I checked in here last night. How could I know you?”

She smiled now, but he had the distinct impression it wasn’t a friendly smile. “You’re good. I’ll give you that. You’re nailing the excuse-me-miss, I’m-a-nice-guy-who-happens-to-be-staying-in-the-same-hotel-as-you routine. How long did you practice that?”

Stepping around him—and leaving a trail of some heavenly scent Kole couldn’t identify but wanted to smell more of—she grabbed a mug and poured herself some coffee.

He came up behind her and she bristled at his proximity. Her heartbeat sped up even more, if that were possible, and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. His presence was doing something to her.

“First of all, I’m not a nice guy.” Her hair had faint purplish highlights he could see now that he was so close. “Secondly, I don’t know you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

She bent forward a little so her denim-clad ass rubbed against his thighs and peered over her shoulder at him. A vision of her completely naked and in this position had him hardening in seconds.

“If you don’t back the fuck up, loser, I will scorch your pretty face with this coffee.” Her grip tightened on her mug and she straightened abruptly, pushing her shoulder into Kole’s chest, leaving him no choice but to back up.

Kole put his hands up in surrender. He liked her sass. “No need to get violent, Beauty.”

“Stop calling me Beauty.” She sipped her coffee, but her eyes were daggers aimed right for his heart.

“You haven’t given me your name. I have nothing else to call you.”

She licked a drop of coffee off her lower lip and Kole nearly came in his jeans. He’d never reacted to a woman like this before. Who was she?

“You seriously don’t know who I am?” Now her expression was... wounded.

He shook his head and her shoulders slumped. With that one movement, all the attitude and confidence dripped right out of her. “I’m not from around here.” Understatement. But he was driven by something indescribable to erase that defeat from her eyes.

“Doesn’t matter. The name Hendrake should be on the tips of everyone’s tongue by now. It’s taking too goddamned long.” She took another sip of her coffee, but didn’t appear to be enjoying it.

“Your name is Hendrake?” Seemed an odd thing to call such a pretty lass.

“No, fool.” She dumped the coffee in a small sink and washed the mug before setting it back with the others. “My name is Emma Rhodes. Hendrake is the name of my band.”

Of soldiers? She didn’t look like a soldier, so Kole decided she meant a musical band. She did look like a musician and her voice was, no doubt, siren-like.

“And you thought I was a stalker fan?”

Her cheeks colored and the urge to brush his lips across that blush was hard to ignore.

“I guess I hoped you were.” She shrugged one shoulder as she threw herself into the chair opposite the one he’d put his jacket on.

“Then why tear my head off with your attitude?”

She huffed as if she had no patience for him. “Because that’s what famous musicians do, genius. I’m supposed to be all put off by your crazy display of obsession with me and my work.”

“While secretly loving every minute of it?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

“Exactly.”

“What kind of music does your band make?” he asked instead of asking her to remove all her clothing.

“Hendrake is a Celtic rock band. I play fiddle, compose lyrics, and do vocals.”

Celtic? No wonder she had an accent. It wasn’t as pronounced as Kole’s, but his ears picked up on it.

He motioned to the double doors. “Do you want to come through them again and I’ll play the part of insane groupie?” In his travels, he’d been to many concerts, music being a particular interest of his. He knew how to be a fan. Hell, he was already a fan of this Emma Rhodes.

Her laughter was everything he imagined it would be. Lilting. Intoxicating. Transforming her face into a true work of art.

Flidae growled in his head, but he didn’t care. Emma Rhodes was a masterpiece.

She waved a hand, her eyes sparkling like the majestic ocean lapping at his beloved Irish shores. “That’s silly.”

“Aye. It is.” He leaned down, putting his hand on the back of her chair, his thumb enjoying the opportunity to feel her silky hair. “But I’ll do it, Beauty.”

“Okay.” She popped out of her seat and bounded to the double doors. The tight jeans she had on hugged her ass and gave sexy a meaning Kole wanted to explore. In detail.

Before pushing open the doors, she looked back at him. “Really let me have it.”

Surely this was the best command he’d ever been given.

Chapter Two

Emma Rhodes stood on the other side of the doors, grinning like a total fool. Who the hell was that guy out there anyway? Gran hadn’t mentioned any new guests when they’d had dinner last night, and Gran appreciated a handsome man as much as Emma did.

The man out there—the one whose name she hadn’t even asked for—was absolutely, without a doubt handsome. From the close shaven brown hair, the dark stubble around his kissable lips, and the crystal blue of his eyes, that dude was dangerously gorgeous.

And he was willing to boost her ego by pretending to be a stalker fan after she’d been all bitchy to him.

“What are you doing, honey?” Gran stepped up behind her with a tray heaped with breakfast.

Emma jumped at Gran’s voice. What am I doing? Excellent question. She had been prepared to give that man the whole please-respect-my-privacy speech, but turns out, he wasn’t a groupie. He didn’t even know who she was.

Her cheeks grew hot. Why had she assumed he knew of Hendrake? Had she run into anyone who knew who Hendrake was? Umm, how about no? Try as they might, she and guys couldn’t put their band on the map. Torrin Woods on vocals and guitar, Blaithin McShane on tin whistle and bagpipes, Flynn Callister on drums, and her on fiddle and vocals. All of them had been working around the clock to break into the music scene with their Celtic-inspired rock, but so far all they’d managed were some gigs at pubs in Ireland.

It was around the corner though. International fame. Emma could sense it. She believed it with all of her heart and she wouldn’t rest until Hendrake was on everyone’s mind, in everyone’s heart, on the radio, and taking the internet—the world—by storm.

“Emma, dear?” Gran nudged her with the corner of the tray. “What’s going on? I’ve got to get this breakfast to Mr. McMannus.”

“Is that his name?” She turned to look at Gran who wore a lovely purple flowered dress today, her long gray hair done up in some complicated twist Emma would have no hope of replicating with her thick mane of wavy black hair. Gran’s green eyes sparkled behind her silver-framed glasses. That pretty much summed up Aideen Rhodes—sparkle. She’d been running Deer Creek Inn, a bed and breakfast in Canville, Vermont, all by herself since Grandad had passed on.

“Kole McMannus,” Gran said. “Seems like a nice Irish lad. You’ve met him?”

“We exchanged some words.” Emma felt like a fool for accusing Kole of being a superfan. What a self-centered bitch.

“I’m a busy lad, Beauty,” Kole called from the other side of the doors. “Get your fine ass out here.”

Gran laughed. “Direct, isn’t he?” She backed up a step and inspected Emma’s behind. “Observant too.”

Emma pushed open the door, holding it for Gran to pass as well. As soon as Gran set the tray on the nearest table, Kole rushed to Emma, his gorgeous blue eyes opened super wide and an expression of sheer adoration on his face.

“It’s you, isn’t it?” His voice was soft, reverent, as if he couldn’t believe he was in the same room with her.

She instantly laughed, but he dropped to his knees before her and grabbed her hands.

His hands were big and rough and warm. Emma couldn’t ignore the jolt of fire that zipped up both her arms at his touch. She gazed down at him and had the unmistakable urge to run her palms over his dark buzz cut.

“I’ve been traveling the globe, aching to be in your company, Emma Rhodes.” He pressed a soft kiss to the back of her left hand. That simple contact with his lips heated her. From head to toe and particularly between her thighs.

How long has it been since I’ve been pleasured? Way. Too. Long. The last lover she’d had was Torrin and that had been a colossal mistake. A situation born out of convenience more than passion. They’d scratched an itch for each other. Only Torrin had wanted more. Emma wasn’t willing to give more. She didn’t have it to give. All her energy was focused on getting recognition for Hendrake. She didn’t have time for relationships.

That was why whatever she was feeling for this man on his knees before her right now had to be pushed aside. The band came first. Nothing else mattered.

But still... he was totally fun to look at.

“Play something for me.” His eyes beseeched her. “I’ll simply die if I don’t hear your fiddle right now.”

She burst into laughter. He was laying it on thick. The humor in his eyes delighted her though. She almost believed he was a rabid fan.

“Die? Isn’t that a bit dramatic?” She slipped her hands free of his, as much as she didn’t want to, and wandered over to the fiddle case she’d set on the bench in the hallway outside the dining room. She brought the case into the dining room and freed her fiddle. She’d played it long into the night last night in her room, moving her bow slowly to mute the sound. Nighttime was her creative time, but she realized not everyone enjoyed fiddle music at midnight.

The rest of the band joked that she was vampire. With her pale skin, jet black hair, dark blue eyes, and red lips, she couldn’t deny the description fit. A description she played up with steampunk outfits in black, deep purple, and crimson when they played a gig. She’d convinced the guys to wear similar costumes with the hopes of making Hendrake known for being the Celtic vampire’s rock band of choice. It had appeal. She believed it.

She just had to get the rest of the world to believe it.

Or at least one producer.

Shaking her head, she faced Kole. “What shall I play, superfan?”

A blank look pasted itself on Kole’s face, but then he raised an eyebrow at Gran for help.

“Midnight’s Kiss.” That was Gran’s favorite. She always said it reminded her of her first date with Grandad.

“Aye.” Kole faced her again, still on his knees, the poor dear. “Midnight’s Kiss is exactly what I want to hear.”

Emma wouldn’t mind giving him a midnight kiss or a... what time was it anyway? Whatever time it was, a kiss with this guy would no doubt be wonderful.

Pushing that notion out of her mind, she placed her fiddle under her chin and sent her bow sailing over the strings. She always slipped into another zone when she played. The fiddle was an extension of herself. Of her soul. She could say things with her fiddle she couldn’t say with words.

As she continued playing, hearing the rest of the band’s parts in her head, Kole sat in the chair where his jacket was draped and Gran joined him at the table, her smile full of the support she’d always given Emma over the years. Support the rest of the family had never thrown her way.

Her parents and brothers were still in Ireland, living their boring lives, not understanding Emma’s need—her craving—to make music. Her family was populated with academic types. Besides Gran, and Grandad when he was alive, she was the only one with a creative flair, and it was grossly underappreciated.

Another reason Hendrake had to make it big. She needed proof, validation she hadn’t been wasting her time with music.

Gran needed no such evidence. Aideen Rhodes loved music and cheered Emma and the guys on every chance she got. Emma had chosen Vermont for the band to work on some new material for this reason. She could be creative without judgment at Deer Creek Inn.

And maybe in these quiet Vermont woods, Hendrake would find The Song to launch them.

Focusing on Kole’s face, she was feeling a bit inspired. Man, the guy had incredible eyes. Blue, but not at all like hers. His were so light they almost didn’t have any color at all. His dark brows, hair, and stubble contrasted with his bright eyes, making them almost glow, as if they had an energy coursing behind them.

Those were eyes Emma could write a song about for sure. She made a mental note to try her hand at that later.

Right now, though, she played the ending to Midnight’s Kiss, finishing by pointing her bow at Kole as if it were a sword blade.

His gaze slid to the bow then rose up to her face. After applauding along with Gran, he grabbed the end of the bow and tugged her a few steps closer.

“Amazing.” His voice was soft again, a little hoarse as if the music had moved him.

“You’re off the hook now.” Emma wiggled her bow free of his grasp. “Superfan duties officially fulfilled.”

“No pretense, Beauty.” He held up his hands. “That was one of the most touching pieces of music I’ve ever heard.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple slowly dipping then rising as if he were fighting to remain composed.

Hmm.

“What did you like best about it, dear?” Gran reached across the table and rested her hand on Kole’s forearm.

“Everything.” The word was breathy and Emma immediately wanted to hear him say her name in that same manner. “It reminded me of... of home.”

“Ireland?” Emma asked.

“Aye.”

“I composed the fiddle portion while gliding down the River Bann.” She’d never forget that day, perfect as it was. Sun shining. Blue sky above. Green all around her. Wildflowers perfuming the air. It had been one of those days where nothing especially spectacular happened, but somehow Emma would always be able to recall it. One of those days where you marveled over being alive.

“It’s lovely,” Kole said. “Truly.”

Emma nodded her thanks then set her fiddle on Kole’s table. “The song sounds better with the rest of the band and the lyrics.”

Gran shook her head. “I’ve always loved that song best with just your fiddle and you singing. Torrin’s voice is...” She waved a hand and made a disgusted face.

Emma laughed, noting how Kole’s pupils widened as he regarded her. Hadn’t she read somewhere that wide pupils meant attraction? He had been calling her Beauty. Did he feel that crackle of electricity between them too?

Doesn’t matter. She mentally shook herself and focused on Gran. “You don’t like Torrin.” She kept her voice low. The rest of the band had rooms at the inn too. Though it was early still, the guys would be up and about soon.

“I like him fine. I just liked him less when you two were a thing.” Gran frowned.

And so did Kole.

“That’s over, Gran.” Emma tapped her fingers on the table, a tune bouncing around in her head for the song she’d write about Kole’s eyes.

“You say that,” Gran said, “but I don’t know that the lad understands the same.”

“How could he?” Kole had been quiet since she’d finished playing.

Emma stopped her finger tapping. “What do you mean?”

His lips turned up in a half grin that was far too sexy. Lethal, in fact. “I’d suspect if a man was granted the pleasure of your...” He slid a glance to Gran, a faint pink tingeing his cheeks. “The pleasure of your company, he wouldn’t be able to give that up easily.”

Gran clapped then pointed an index finger at Kole. “You speak true words and strike me as a gentleman. I like you, Mr. McMannus.”

Kole held Emma’s gaze for a moment longer then looked at Gran. “Please, call me Kole.”

“Only if you’ll call me Gran. Everyone around here does.”

“That’s because she’s up in everyone’s business like a nosey granny.” Emma wagged a finger at Gran, knowing she was setting about to matchmake. She’d have to have a little conversation with Gran later about no matchmaking. Emma didn’t need a match. What she needed was a break. A break into the music biz. If she could get that ball up in the air and keep it there, maybe she’d have time for a relationship.

Maybe.

But probably not.

Kole swiveled in his seat and raised hopeful eyebrows at the tray Gran had brought out. “Might that be for me, Gran? I’m famished.”

“Oh, yes!” Gran popped up from her seat.

When she took a step toward the tray, however, her left leg buckled and, to Emma’s horror, Gran began to fall.

Kole burst from his chair to catch her. In doing so, he jostled the table, making it wiggle and slide a few inches away from him.

Emma’s fiddle slid off the table, crashed to the floor, and splintered into too many pieces to count.

****

Kole’s arms were full of Gran and he probably touched things he shouldn’t be touching, but he couldn’t let her slam to the hardwood floor of the dining room. The woman didn’t have much meat on her to begin with. If she connected with the ground, something was going to break.

“I’ve got you.” He lifted her slightly and helped her back into her seat.

She pulled her dress down to cover her knees then put a hand to her chest. “Well, I haven’t been that clumsy since Emma’s granddad took me on a cruise for our anniversary and fed me too much wine.” She giggled.

The woman’s eyes positively twinkled and Kole found himself laughing along with her.

“You’re okay, aye?” Crouching before her, he checked her over, wondering what had made her leg buckle in the first place.

“I’m fine.” She rubbed her knee. “This leg has been giving me some trouble. I’m an old lady, you know.”

“Could have fooled me.” Kole winked at her, enjoying how she waved him off.

“Don’t be peddling such horsepoo, Kole. I won’t fall for it.” She nudged his shoulder. “Give me a minute to rest. Have your breakfast.” She motioned to the tray.

He stood, intending to grab the tray and dig in, but the way Emma was staring at the floor by her feet made him angle his head instead.

Kole took in the shards of wood on the floor, the snapped neck of her fiddle, the unleashed strings. “Gods, did I do that?”

Emma didn’t say anything. Instead, her face grew red—redder than Kole had ever seen anyone’s face get. When she flicked her gaze to him, fire shot from those dark blue eyes.

Kole ran around to her side of the table and bent to collect the pieces, but she stepped in the way.

“Do not touch anything.” Her voice was cold steel.

“My apologies, Beauty. I was trying to catch Gran. I didn’t mean for your fiddle to get destroyed.”

Never in his life had he wanted anyone to accept an apology so much. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d given an apology. Mercenaries didn’t make a habit of asking for forgiveness. They did what needed to be done and collected their payment. Apologies were for the weak.

On the battlefield, however, he’d always meant to cause pain. Here, at this quaint inn in the middle of the woods, he didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all this gorgeous woman who had completely enchanted him with her fiddle playing.

And now you’ve broken her fiddle.

Blast it all. Why did he care what she was feeling? He didn’t know her twenty minutes ago.

“I’ll buy you another one,” he offered. How much could a new fiddle cost? He had some money from odd jobs he’d done as he’d crossed the nation looking for Shawn.

“It was an accident, Kole. She’s got others.” Gran stood now, slowly, both her hands on the table for support.

“That was my favorite one.” Again, her eyes carved holes into Kole. “Grandad gave me that one.”

“Oh, dear.” A worried crease formed between Gran’s brows. “I didn’t know it was that fiddle.” Her mouth turned down, her eyes sad.

“It’s irreplaceable.” Emma lowered to her knees in front of the rubble, her hands clasped in her lap, her back curved as if she wanted to curl up into a ball. “It’s a sign.”

“A sign of what?” Kole asked.

She heaved out a long breath. “A sign I should give up this stupid dream and become an accountant or something equally as boring.”

“Now, honey,” Gran said. “Kole was being a Prince Charming, making sure I didn’t break my rump. He was doing a good, kind thing. It’s a shame your fiddle suffered this fate, but it is in no way a sign you should quit making music. You have a gift, child. One the world needs to hear. One the world will love.”

Emma let out a disgusted huff and gathered the pieces of her fiddle. “Well, they won’t be hearing it on this fiddle.”

Kole leaned in to help pick up the pieces, but she swatted his hands away.

“Beauty, I—”

“I told you to stop calling me that.” She stood with her arms full of wood and strings and broken dreams. “You’re okay, right, Gran? You didn’t get hurt when this beast caught you, did you?”

Ouch. She had no idea how much of a beast he was. He should stay in wolf form too. Less likely to run across lasses like her. He didn’t need that kind of trouble. He only needed to find Shawn and figure out what they would do to get back to Ireland.

“I’m okay, Emma,” Gran said. “And I don’t think calling our guest a beast is cordial of you.”

Emma shot her gaze to Kole and he wouldn’t have been surprised if icicles sprouted from the ceiling of the dining room. “He’s your guest, Gran. He’s got nothing to do with me.”

She turned on her heel and vanished from the room, leaving only her delectable scent and her attitude behind.

Kole stared at the doorway. Part of him wanted to follow her and demand an apology for the way she’d spoken to him. Who did she think she was, throwing all that sass in his direction? He’d been concerned for her grandmother’s safety. It was unfortunate her fiddle had become a casualty, but better an instrument than her grandmother, no?

Another part of him wanted to forget he’d ever met Emma Rhodes. Simply erase her from his memory and carry on with his own business.

A final part of him—the part he’d have to tell to shut the fuck up—wanted to strip her down naked and bury himself deep, deep inside her. Hear her pant his name. Lick every delicious inch of her creamy, white skin.

He let out a groan.

“What’s that, dear?” Gran put her hand on his shoulder and tugged so he’d face her. “Did you say something?”

He shook his head.

“Don’t worry about her. She’ll get over it.” She gave him a smile. “You have my eternal thanks at least. I didn’t have ‘visit the emergency room’ on my agenda today or any day soon.” She pointed to his breakfast. “Do you want me to make a fresh breakfast for you?”

“No. This one is fine.” He’d eaten far worse since being turned into a werewolf. Far worse.

“Enjoy.” Gran started for the double doors then paused. “You’ll think of a way to make it up to her.”

“What?”

“Emma. You’ll think of a way to make up for breaking her fiddle. Something grand.” Her eyes widened and she arced her hands out in a showy movement before disappearing beyond the double doors.

Make it up to her? No. He’d let her be mad at him. They’d stay out of each other’s way. She could work on her music. He could work on finding Shawn. Their paths didn’t need to cross again. Maybe he’d check out of Deer Creek Inn, though he liked the place. Surely other places to stay in Canville existed. Perhaps Jaemus or Reardon could put him up for a few nights.

He dug into his lukewarm eggs, French toast, and Canadian bacon, washing it all down with a tall glass of orange juice. As he stood to take the tray back to the kitchen and thank Gran for breakfast, a man with unruly blond hair and sharp green eyes marched into the dining room.

“Are you the guy?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” Kole instantly didn’t care for the man.

“Are you the asshole who broke Emma’s fiddle?” He stepped up to Kole, the breakfast tray the only thing between them.

The man was several inches shorter than Kole and far less muscular. Kole had taken down hares in Alaska that were more threatening than this guy.

“Aye. Not on purpose.” Not that Kole should have to explain himself to a complete stranger.

“Well, she’s pissed. And if she’s pissed, I’m pissed.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Kole set the tray down and grinned when the other guy took a step back. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Torrin Woods, Emma’s...” A pained expression flitted across Torrin’s face.

“Bandmate?” Kole rather enjoyed the man’s struggle.

“We’re far more than bandmates.” Torrin folded his arms across his chest and squared his shoulders to Kole.

Bracing for a fight he can’t win. Kole wasn’t sure whether to admire the lad’s bravado or think him a fool.

“But far less than lovers, aye?”

“That’s none of your damn business, douchebag.”

“What is my business then? What is it you want from me?” Kole had wasted enough time this morning.

“I want the cash value of that fiddle. We’ve got enough expenses trying to get this band noticed. We don’t need to invest in more instruments.”

“Gran said she had other fiddles.” He hated to think his mistake would keep Emma from being able to play.

“Oh, Gran said that, did she? She isn’t your gran. You haven’t done the time to earn that.” A muscle jumped in Torrin’s jaw and Kole couldn’t help but to enjoy what his simple existence was doing to this man.

“She invited me to call her Gran.”

“She did not.”

Kole held up a hand as if taking an oath. “May the gods strike me down if she didn’t.”

Torrin’s face grew red, much as Emma’s had. “Listen, buddy—”

“There you are.” Another man with red hair and brown eyes jogged into the dining room as Torrin ratcheted his arm back in a move Kole assumed was meant to wound him in some fashion. Werewolf reflexes were quick though. Any punch directed his way would be easily avoided, but Torrin put his arm down instead.

“We’re going into town for breakfast,” a third man said. This one was taller than Kole, but nowhere near as wide. His hair was spiked and... silver. He extended his hand to Kole. “Blaithin McShane. Tin whistle and bagpipes.”

Kole shook his hand, but didn’t offer his name. He wasn’t here to make friends, especially if this guy was anything like Torrin.

Blaithin gestured to the redheaded man. “That’s Flynn Callister, our kickass drummer, and looks as if you’ve already met our guitarist and vocals savant, Torrin, as well as our fiddler, Emma.” He puffed out a breath and put his hands on his hips. “You’ve also managed to piss off both Emma and Torrin, so we’re going to collect this guy and be on our way.”

Flynn tugged on Torrin’s shirt. “C’mon, man. You see the muscles on this guy. You can’t play guitar if he breaks all your fingers.”

Flynn and Blaithin might be all right guys.

“I promise not to break anyone’s fingers,” Kole said. “On one condition.” Stay the fuck out of my way.

“We’re not cutting any deals with you, asshole.” Torrin slipped free of Flynn’s hold. “You broke Emma’s fiddle. You made her cry.”

Shit. He didn’t want to hear that. Emma storming off all piss and vinegar was one thing. Tears though? That was another story.

“My condition is...” He hated this. “My condition is help me set things right with Emma.”

He didn’t plan on being in Vermont long, but he couldn’t be the reason a beautiful lass like Emma shed tears. He had a long record of pleasing women, not upsetting them.

“That’s an easy one,” Blaithin said. “Come to our show tonight.” He ducked into the small foyer by the inn’s front door and returned with a sheet of paper, wiggling it until Kole took it. “Hendrake is playing at Barnside Pub. Seven o’clock.”

“Don’t be late.” Flynn yanked on Torrin’s arm and guided the guitarist toward the door. “See you later, man.”

Blaithin gave him a wave. “Seriously. Come to the show. She’ll forgive you. You might have to buy her a drink or two, but you... you’re just her type.”

Her type? How could a werewolf be anyone’s type?

Chapter Three

“I can’t believe you’re here, cousin.” Reardon clapped Kole on the back. “I don’t know why Flidae is letting us gather, but thanks.” He turned in a circle and threw his arms up as if speaking to Flidae directly.

Kole angled his head, listening for a reply from the goddess, but none came. “She dumped you and Jaemus here, but I drove my ass cross country to get here. I don’t think Flidae is to be credited for this reunion.” He gestured to Jaemus sitting across from him then to Reardon.

The three of them were in Jaemus’s home. A barn space that belonged to his fiancée that he’d remodeled. Apparently, Nika was at the trading post next door, which had been rebuilt after a devastating fire had consumed it. And Reardon had a wife—a wife—running a wolf sanctuary on the property adjacent to this one. Kole hadn’t met the women yet, but both Reardon and Jaemus were eager for him to.

Women. If they were anything like Emma Rhodes, he could definitely wait on meeting them. He didn’t need any more women mucking up his thinking.

Because that was what Emma was doing. He’d left Deer Creek Inn shortly after his encounter with her bandmates, intent on visiting Jaemus and Reardon to plan his next steps in searching for Shawn. On the short drive though, all he could think about was Emma’s face looking at her broken fiddle. And the hate that spewed from her eyes at him. And the defeat he’d felt from her when she’d said maybe she had to give up her dream.

Gods, he didn’t want his clumsiness to be the impetus for anyone to give up a dream.

“And is this a reunion?” Jaemus asked. “Are you here to stay?”

Kole held up his hands. “Slow down, Jaemus.” He squinted at Reardon. “I don’t remember your brother being so... so...”

“Enthusiastic?” Reardon laughed. “Falling in love with Nika has opened up a treasure chest full of emotions in him.”

Jaemus shot his brother the middle finger, but his smile lit up the large room. “As if you don’t drop whatever you might be doing to manhandle Brandy every time you see her.”

“Guilty.” Reardon shrugged then turned his attention to Kole. “What about you? In your cross-country travels, have you met someone?”

Kole stretched out his legs. “I’ve met many someones.” He flashed them both a grin. “We had beauties back in Ireland of our time, but America of this time has quite a buffet from which to dine.”

Of course, he hadn’t met anyone like Emma anywhere. She was... unique. He couldn’t get her scent out of his nose, her face out of his memory, her fiddle playing out of his ears.

Come to our show tonight. Blaithin’s words cycled around in his head. Did he want Emma’s forgiveness? Did he need it?

“Tell us everything leading up to you finding The Wolfman Show flyer,” Jaemus said.

Sitting back in his chair, Kole focused on relaying his time in Alaska with the wolves, his stops in all the states so far looking for Shawn, his finding The Wolfman Show flyer in a rest stop in New York, and ending with his seeing Jaemus last night at the trading post.

“And Flidae? She speaks to you too?” Reardon moved to the edge of his seat on the couch.

“Aye. Sometimes I think she’s leaving me breadcrumbs to find Shawn, like finding The Wolfman Show flyer. Other times, I think she’s purposely throwing me off track.” Kole listened now, but the goddess was distinctly absent.

“She must be off bothering other wild things,” Reardon said.

“Which is what makes me crazy.” Kole leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “She knows where Shawn is.”

“Maybe finding him is your something worthy.” Jaemus got up and went to the refrigerator. He came back with three sodas and passed one each to Reardon and Kole. “Although...” His soda can hissed as he opened it then took a long drink.

“Although what?” Kole let the cool exterior of his soda can chill his fingers.

“Well, Reardon and I... our something worthies were tied to finding love, to finding Brandy and Nika.”

Kole ground his teeth when Emma immediately came to mind. He wouldn’t be finding love with her. He wouldn’t be finding love at all. He didn’t need it. He’d gone all this time without it. Besides, he was a werewolf. He didn’t want a lass tying him down to one place and nagging him to do things and generally being all up in his space. He liked being in wolf form. Running wild. Roaming free.

He narrowed his eyes at Jaemus and Reardon. Total contentment emanated from both of them. Actually, contentment wasn’t the right word. Bliss was a more fitting description. Love had done that to them.

But I’m not like them.

No. Every situation was different. He was different.

The barn door creaked open and a breathtaking woman with long red hair and blue eyes stepped in. She wore jeans and a fleece sweatshirt with a wolf-and-moon emblem on the chest.

“Reardon?”

“Aye, fairy lass, come in.” Reardon stood and waved her over, a look in his eyes Kole had never seen on his leader. This woman’s mere presence softened fierce warrior Reardon McAlator.

“It’s not only me out here,” she said. “Nika and Meredith are with me and Dylan is going to die if he doesn’t get to meet another werewolf like right now.”

“They all know?” Kole gripped the arms of his chair. In all his travels, he hadn’t revealed himself to anyone but the Alaska wolves.

“They all know,” Jaemus said. “But just them. No one else.” He stood and pointed at Kole. “Are you up for introductions?”

“Only if you promise to then help me with my search for Shawn.”

“Of course we’ll help.” Reardon held his hand out to Kole. “That’s a promise. I can’t take back what I did to you—to all of you—but I can try to make the life you now lead better.”

Kole blinked at Reardon’s hand. He’d spent a great deal of time furious with Reardon over what he’d done to them. He’d also enjoyed running with the Alaska wolves, finding a kind of comfort in being a wolf. If he could be with Shawn again, he’d have enough to make this life livable.

He reached up and shook Reardon’s hand while Jaemus marched over and yanked Kole out of his seat.

“It’s good to have you among us again, Kole.” Jaemus shook his hand too, and for a moment, a hint of their old lives hung in the barn.

“Send the boy in,” Reardon called.

Before Kole had a minute to prepare himself, a young lad burst into the barn. He skidded to a halt right in front of Kole and craned his head back to look up. His blue eyes were wide, blond hair peeking from under a green baseball cap with the same wolf-and-moon emblem as on the woman’s sweatshirt.

The boy opened his mouth then he glanced at Jaemus briefly before schooling his features and seeming to swallow some of his excitement.

“I’m Dylan Wendon,” he said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Jaemus tugged on the bill of the boy’s baseball cap. “That’s a good lad. A perfectly respectable greeting.”

Kole raised his eyebrows and the boy said, “When I first met Jaemus, I asked too many questions about him being a werewolf.”

“Yeah, and the big oaf growled at my son.” The redhead strode over and gave Kole a beautiful smile. “I’m Brandy McAlator.” Her smile grew when she said McAlator and she shot a glance to Reardon who had a matching smile.

Kole couldn’t get used to seeing Reardon—a brutal warrior who had commanded an army of mercenaries and won victory after victory—look so... so in love.

“Kole McMannus. Nice to meet you.” He bowed his head at Brandy in greeting, a familiar scent rising up to him. It can’t be. He inhaled again.

“What you’re thinking... it’s true,” Brandy said.

“You’re like us?”

Brandy nodded, no sign of the regret and anger he’d originally experienced after being turned.

“She wanted it,” Reardon explained.

“I did. I make a living caring for wolves at the sanctuary, why not actually be one, right?” The smile Brandy sent his way made him instantly relax around her.

“You enjoy it? Your wolf form?”

“Heck, yeah.” She hadn’t hesitated with her reply.

“Me too. I prefer it. Being human gives me a headache. I have one right now.” Kole rubbed his temple. He’d need to go for a run—a wolf run—soon.

“Do you want some aspirin or something?” Brandy asked, stepping toward the door. “I have some back at the sanctuary.”

Kole shook his head. “It won’t work.”

“Usually the headaches go away after the first few days,” Reardon said.

“Well, they didn’t. I’m fine in wolf form. I’ve been out of wolf form for a few days in a row now, so it’s pounding in there.” He tapped his forehead then shrugged. “Whatever. I deal with it.”

Reardon frowned, guilt evident in his green-gold eyes.

“Well, you’re welcome to run with my wolves at the sanctuary whenever you want,” Brandy said.

“Thank you.” Kole would definitely take her up on that offer.

“But Jeez,” an older woman with a smile like Brandy’s and wearing basically the same outfit wiggled into the space beside Kole, “do werewolves only come in the tall and gorgeous flavor? And for Pete’s sake, aren’t there any my age?” She winked at Kole. “I’m Meredith Wendon, Brandy’s mom.”

“Oh, you’re mom to all of us.” Jaemus slid his arm around Meredith’s shoulders and gave her a squeeze as she gave his chest a light slap.

Like Gran? The same warm, welcoming energy that had come from Gran came off Meredith.

Jaemus wrangled a final woman wearing a long flowered dress under his other arm. “And this sprite is my Nika.” He kissed the top of her head then let his fingers wander into her curly chestnut hair.

Nika turned pale green eyes to Kole. “It’s great to have another one of you among us. Welcome.”

And he truly did feel welcome.

“I have faith we’ll be adding one more to our group,” Reardon said. “Soon. We’ll find Shawn, Kole. We will.”

“And then Erik.” Jaemus released the women, but he gave Nika another kiss before doing so. “Hopefully neither of them are in trouble.”

“They both could have made it home to Ireland by now.” Kole often wondered if the reason he hadn’t found Shawn already was because his brother—his smart brother—had figured out his something worthy and was back in Ireland.

“Possibly,” Reardon said. “But after being here in this time, both Jaemus and I decided to stay and Flidae granted those requests. I have a feeling going back to our Ireland isn’t what the goddess intends for us.”

“I’m going back.” Kole folded his arms across his chest. Sure, all the modern conveniences of this time were wonderful—he loved his motorcycle—but he missed Ireland.

“Maybe something will change your mind.” Brandy wrapped her arms around Reardon’s waist and drew Dylan back to lean against her.

Nothing could change Kole’s mind.

“So are you black or silver or what?” Dylan clamped a hand over his mouth. “Sorry.” The word was muffled from behind his hand.

Kole surprised himself by chuckling. “It’s okay, lad. I don’t mind talking about my wolf form. If I hadn’t been looking for my brother, I would have stayed with a wolf pack in Alaska.”

“Fascinating.” Brandy widened her eyes. “What did you like most about being among them?”

“Like son, like mother,” Jaemus teased.

Brandy stuck her tongue out at Jaemus. “I’m a wildlife biologist. I’m allowed to be curious about animal and part animal-part man behaviors.”

Something akin to yearning rose up inside Kole. This group of people around him were a true family. They’d built something—despite some of them being werewolves—that smelled of home and acceptance and love.

Kole crouched down to be eye level with Dylan. “To answer your question first, I’m a brown wolf.” He looked up to Brandy. “And to answer yours, I liked living in a pack, depending on each other, running with each other, knowing the other wolves had my back.” He stood and regarded Reardon who had grown silent and still, his gaze on the floor. “Our army had that too. I believe it still does, Reardon.”

“You feel it, aye?” Reardon asked, a faint glow in his green-gold eyes.

“Aye,” Kole and Jaemus said together.

“That’s why we have to find Shawn and Erik. We’re supposed to be a pack.” Kole hadn’t given much thought to finding Erik. Shawn had been his only concern, but as he said these words to Reardon, the truth of them hit him. Hit him hard. They all needed to be reunited.

Flidae couldn’t keep them apart forever.

“We’ll need a detailed map of where you’ve already searched,” Reardon said, having to clear his throat before he spoke.

“I can set that up on my computer,” Dylan said.

“Aye, that’d be great, lad.” Reardon stole the boy’s cap and held it out of reach while Dylan jumped up and down, giggling and trying to retrieve it.

“You should all celebrate first,” Meredith said. “You’ve gained another one of your own.” She gestured to Kole.

“Celebrate, aye.” Jaemus nodded. “We were planning on going to Barnside Pub tonight to hear some band.” He nudged Nika with his elbow. “What was the name of it, sprite?”

“Hendrake,” Kole said before Nika could reply.

“You’ve heard of them?” Brandy asked.

“You could say that.”

One invite he could ignore. But two?

****

Trapped in a sea of blue,
tangled up in all of you,

I try to look away and hide,
but your eyes know me inside...

Emma scratched a few more lyrics down in her notebook, humming the fiddle part. A part she’d have to play on one of her other fiddles.

She was being a total baby. She knew it. A fiddle was a fiddle... only it wasn’t. The one Grandad had given her had been crafted in Ireland using the old techniques. It had a sound she couldn’t achieve with her other fiddles.

And Grandad gave it to me.

She only had a few items to remember the man by. A fiddle player himself, Grandad understood the relationship a musician had with his or her instruments. They were extensions of oneself, like another limb. Seeing her beloved fiddle in pieces on the floor and beyond repair was like having her arm cut off.

If she’d avoided the dining room this morning and gone with the guys to breakfast elsewhere instead, as they’d asked her to, her fiddle would still be in one piece, waiting for her to make it come alive.

But no, she had to go see Gran and have Gran’s pancakes and run into Gran’s imbecile guest.

Only Kole didn’t seem like an imbecile. Actually, he’d shown her a wide range of personalities in the few minutes she’d interacted with him. Cocky at first with getting all close to her at the coffee station and saying he wanted to know her. A total sweetheart when he’d offered to and then played the part of a superfan. Heroic when he’d caught Gran and kept her from falling.

And finally, a bull-in-china-shop when he’d hit the table and knocked Emma’s precious fiddle to the ground.

Ugh. She could scream.

Here she was though, sitting on an Adirondack chair on Deer Creek Inn’s magnificent back porch overlooking Deer Creek and the lake it meandered into, writing a song about Kole McMannus’s stunning eyes.

Well, at least she wasn’t trapped in his sea of blue or tangled up in all of him. Lyrics. They were mere lyrics, inspired by an unusually attractive pair of crystal blue eyes. Emma was enough of a professional that she could appreciate The Muse in any way it decided to reveal itself. Today it had chosen the eyes of a sexy stranger, so she’d roll with it and hopefully end up with a great song.

That she’d have to play on a fiddle that wasn’t her favorite.

I fight the light that reels me in.

We have to end, we can’t begin
something that will never last.

Bury it now, bury it in the past.

Well, shit. Why was this turning out to be so somber? Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to write a song while lamenting the death of one’s fiddle.

Emma threw the pencil down on her notebook and let out a long sigh.

“Going that well, huh?” Torrin stepped out onto the porch, Blaithin and Flynn right behind him.

“At least I’m trying,” she spat. “Where have you three been?”

“Easy there.” Blaithin sat on the Adirondack chair next to hers. “We’ve been fueling ourselves so we can come out here and go for hours writing and composing and creating awesomeness.”

“I’m too stuffed to create awesomeness.” Flynn patted his belly. “Someone should have come around that diner and cut us off.”

“Don’t mind them.” Torrin caught Emma’s gaze with his own. “They’ve had more than the recommended daily allotment of maple syrup.”

“I totally feel a maple syrup coma coming on.” Flynn tossed himself onto a bench opposite Emma and closed his eyes.

She leaned forward and swatted his knee, making him pop up. “No comas. I need you guys.”

“And we’re here for you.” Torrin leaned against the porch railing. “As we always are.”

Emma squinted at him. “You’re a bit calmer than you were earlier.”

Torrin had unfortunately caught her running to her room with her broken fiddle, tears streaming down her face. He’d immediately stopped her, wrapping his arms around her as he’d done countless times, but not so much recently as they were definitely off right now. They’d been on about three months ago. Emma kept trying to convince herself she and Torrin had something, but that was convenience talking. He was a great guy. Truly. A gifted guitarist and vocalist. A hard worker. He wanted all the same things she wanted. There just wasn’t any spark between them, and she couldn’t pretend there was. It’d been a difficult conversation, but Torrin had been a perfect gentleman about it, choosing to focus on the band with her instead.

They were friends. Good friends. When he’d hugged her this morning to comfort her, though, she realized Torrin could easily want more from her again.

Still, she’d taken his hug, his kind words, his threats to talk to the “stupid asshole” who’d busted her fiddle.

She flicked her gaze to him. “Did you talk to Kole?” Oh, God. What had she said? Why did she care?

“Aye, we chatted, he and I.” Torrin folded his arms across his shoulders, but still didn’t look anywhere near as intimidating as Kole probably did during their chat.

“You could have told us he was enormous.” Blaithin nudged her foot with his. “We had to go in there and rescue this kid.”

Torrin scoffed. “I didn’t need rescuing.”

“Dude, he could have crushed you like a bug.” Flynn’s eyes were closed again so he didn’t see Torrin pick up Emma’s iced tea. He jolted in his chair when the cold liquid drenched his shirt. “Aww, now I gotta go upstairs and change.”

“You had to anyway,” Blaithin said. “You’ve got maple syrup right there.” He used Emma’s pencil to point out the brown spot on Flynn’s shirt.

“Dammit.” Flynn got up and stomped back into the inn.

“I’m going to get my whistle and pipes.” Blaithin stood and followed Flynn. “Then let’s jam on what you’ve got so far, Emmy Bear.”

Even in her current mood, Emma had to laugh at Blaithin’s nickname for her. He’d been calling her that ever since the two of them had an all-out war over the red gummy bears in a package they were sharing during music class in high school.

Maybe some gummy bears would help her now. She needed something to focus on song-writing and not on the dreamy blue eyes of a clutzy stranger.

Torrin moved to sit next to her. “Are you okay?”

“Aye. It’s just a fiddle.” She shrugged and picked up her notebook, turning to a blank page. She wasn’t ready to share what she had on the blue eyes song. Maybe she wouldn’t share it with them at all. Perhaps the lyrics were total crap anyway.

“I don’t only mean about the fiddle, Emma. You’re putting an ocean-sized load of pressure on yourself to launch Hendrake. It will happen when it happens. You shouldn’t be running yourself ragged in the process. We’re making good money on what we’re already doing.” He tugged on the end of her hair. “We need you to be in good form for our gig tonight.”

Just like Torrin. In one breath he was all understanding and consoling. In the next, he was spreading around the pressure he was warning her against.

“I’m in good form.” Her fiddle, however, was not. “We should practice a few songs with one of my other fiddles though.” She stood and Torrin followed her inside the inn.

Up the stairs.

Down the hall.

To her room.

She turned to look at him before opening her door. “Aren’t you going to get your guitar?” She motioned to his room adjacent to hers.

“In a minute.” He reached around her, plucked her keycard from her fingers, and opened her door. He held it open for her.

Something about having Torrin in her room without the other guys didn’t feel right, but this day was taxing Emma’s limits. Torrin was right. She needed to get her head on right and make sure she was ready for tonight’s gig. You never knew who in an audience might mean the difference between night-to-night gigs and international tours.

She crossed the room and went to the two other fiddle cases she had in the closet. After choosing one, she set the case on the bed and opened it while Torrin leaned against the room’s door.

Which he’d closed.

“We should set up a schedule for rehearsing gig stuff and coming up with new stuff.” He walked farther into the room and sat on the bed. “That way we’ll make the most of our time here.”

“Sounds like a good plan.” She looked over at Torrin. “These woods are a little too quiet for you guys, aren’t they?”

Torrin held up his hand, index finger and thumb an inch apart, but he was smiling.

Emma had always loved Vermont. When Gran had announced she was moving there from Ireland, the family had gone nuts. Emma had thought it was a little silly too.

Until she’d visited Gran. The woods immediately drew her in, embraced her, soothed her. It’d been like that every time she’d come to Deer Creek Inn.

So why isn’t that happening this time?

Her brain was more scrambled than ever. It had to be due to her fiddle getting broken. That had set her off. She needed to move past that—and Kole’s blue eyes—and get to work. She had a band to launch, dammit.

“I can think of a way to make things a little more exciting while we’re stuck in Vermont.” Torrin’s voice jarred her out of her thoughts, as did the light touch of his fingertips on her forearm.

When she made eye contact with him, she shook her head, refusing to get sucked into something that might have been comfortable but not full of the passion she probably deserved. She wanted a relationship where just looking at her man had her all fired up. Had her heart beating. Her body buzzing.

Something like what she’d felt when she’d pressed her ass against Kole in the dining room this morning.

No. No. Nothing like that. What is wrong with me? Hendrake was her only goal right now.

“Torrin, we’ve tried this,” she gestured between them, “and it doesn’t work. We make good music together. We have laughs. We’re friends. Great ones. Aye?”

He gave her a smile she knew was forced. “Aye. The best.” He slid off the bed and walked to the door. “I’ll get my guitar. Meet you back on the porch?”

She nodded and watched him leave, but then he popped his head back into her room.

“The other guys...” he said. “They invited him tonight.”

“Invited who?” She met him at the door, fiddle in hand.

“The guy who broke your favorite fiddle.”

“They did what? Why?” Holy shit, why would they invite Kole? They were supposed to be hating him. Like she was. Unsuccessfully. Did the man have some power over them all?

“He wanted to know how he could make breaking your fiddle up to you. Blaithin suggested he come to the show.” Torrin shrugged and disappeared into the hallway.

Kole was going to their show? For her?

Well, this changed things.

Chapter Four

After spending time at Brandy’s wolf sanctuary—mainly with Dylan and the lad’s laptop—Kole had a detailed map of where he’d already searched for Shawn. Gazing at the printout Dylan had given him, he was rather unimpressed with his haphazard search pattern. Red dots littered the states with no rhyme or reason. He truly was a wanderer. This map was proof. He wasn’t sure if he’d accomplished anything in his searching. Add in the fact that Shawn could now be in one of the places he’d already checked or back home in Ireland and the situation seemed more hopeless than ever.

A little help, Flidae. Please. The goddess had been silent since he’d met up with Jaemus and Reardon. It appeared she’d let them off the hook so to speak. They’d both done their something worthy, found love, chose to stay in Vermont, settled in, planned futures. He realized they hadn’t gained what they had without working hard for it, but still, she’d forgiven them.

Kole didn’t want forgiveness. He’d used the werewolf to kill the Spanish king’s enemies as Reardon had commanded. He’d followed orders. No apologies for that. Being turned into a werewolf wasn’t something he needed to repent for either. It hadn’t been his choice.

The only thing Kole wanted was his brother.

And maybe to know what noises Emma would make if he touched her in the right places.

Breaking her fiddle was where he needed forgiveness. He wasn’t sure why it mattered, but when Torrin had said she’d been crying over the instrument, something cracked open inside Kole. Something he’d learned to keep bottled up tightly so he’d be able to succeed on the battlefield.

He couldn’t get her out of his head. All day, he hadn’t stopped thinking about Emma’s silky, black hair and the way it had brushed against his fingers. The flowered shirt she’d worn had been so decidedly female that Kole now understood he’d gone a little too long without the company of a lass.

The last intimate encounter he’d enjoyed had been in Ohio. A petite blonde with long fingernails had torn up the skin on his back. She’d been a wild little number and they’d had a good time, but she hadn’t stayed the entire night. Kole hadn’t asked her to.

Emma though. He could picture holding her all night long.

He dropped the map he’d been studying. All night long? Kole McMannus wasn’t an all-night-long kind of guy. He was a primal sex, everyone-achieved-a-monumental-orgasm, then send-her-on-her-way kind of guy. Not once had he wanted one of his conquests to spend the night.

Still, the image of watching morning sun filter in through the windows and illuminate Emma’s pale skin nearly overwhelmed him.

And then there was her smell.

He couldn’t get that out of his damn nose. The fragrance had followed him around all day. He’d never smelled anything like it. Twice he’d almost asked Reardon, Jaemus, and Brandy about it, but he’d felt stupid doing so. It would eventually leave him. It had to.

Kole pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes and sifted out a breath. His head was throbbing and going to a crowded, noisy pub was the last thing he wanted to do, but Jaemus and Reardon were expecting him to show. They’d welcomed him into their fold and had vowed to help him find Shawn. He owed them tonight.

Knowing he might get back on Emma’s good side by showing up sounded like a good plan too. His only plan actually.

He picked up the map on the floor and set it on the dresser. After a quick shower and changing into a clean pair of dark blue jeans and a black, long-sleeved thermal shirt, Kole put on his boots and leather jacket and headed downstairs.

The inn was strangely quiet except for a little banging in the room to the left of the front foyer. Peeking his head in, he opened his mouth at the number of books lining the walls of the room. In one corner, Gran stood on her tiptoes with a broomstick in her hand. She nudged a book on one of the high shelves, but couldn’t quite get it.

“Can I get that for you?”

Gran let out a shout and jumped at the sound of his voice. She whirled around. “My stars, lad. You nearly blew my heart up.” She patted her chest and gulped in some air.

“I’m sorry.” Why was he always apologizing to these Rhodes women? “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Gran said. “If you did, you’d be a rotten, rotten lad.” She turned back to the bookshelf. “Can you reach that volume there, dear?” She used the broomstick to point out the book that was sticking out more than the ones around it. “I’ve got a nice ladder here, but I’m too old to climb the darn thing.”

“I’m sure that’s not the case.” He strode into the room.

“What did I tell you about the horsepoo?” She launched her fist into his bicep, a shocked look blooming on her face when she realized how hard the muscle was. “Are you made of steel, Kole McMannus? Like Superman or something?”

She was referring to the man of steel comic book character he’d learned of during his time in the future. “Not Superman. Not even close.”

“I don’t know. You caught me this morning. You’re here now, saving the day by getting that book. You could be him.”

“Superman doesn’t break fiddles.” He stepped on the ladder, retrieved the book, and came back down to stand in front of Gran.

She took the book and backed up a step to take him in, head to toe. “You’re all cleaned up.” She leaned in closer and sniffed. “You smell damn good.” She waved a hand at the bear-shaped clock on the wall behind her. “It’s nearly Emma’s show time and you’re going, aren’t you?”

He gave a slight nod, jamming his hands into his front pockets.

Gran punched him in the bicep again. “Superman. For sure.” She wiggled the book between them. “Thanks for getting this.”

“What are you reading tonight anyway?” Kole angled his head to see the cover. “The Anne Rice Collection? You like vampires, Gran?” In his travels, Kole had learned about vampires, wondering if they existed as werewolves did, but he hadn’t found any definitive proof. He just knew the fictional ones lurking about were pale, gorgeous, and often deadly. Oh, and some of them sparkled.

“I do like vampires. You’ll see why soon enough.” She winked at him then proceeded to herd him toward the front door. “You don’t want to be late. Every note my Emma plays needs to be savored. Make your applause count, Superman.” She opened the door and ushered him out into the crisp May night.

Kole straddled his motorcycle, but took a moment to appreciate the serenity of the woods surrounding Deer Creek Inn. They reminded him of Alaska, though not as cold. He made a mental note to go for a run—a wolf run—later on tonight. If his pounding head had anything to say about it, he was due for some wolf time.

His motorcycle roared to life beneath him and he followed dark, winding roads until a gigantic red barn rose out of the shadows before him. Several well-placed spotlights on the ground lit the place from the bottom up, giving it an eerie aura. A tin sign that said Barnside Pub hung above a set of huge barn doors that were wide open, letting in the night air. When he cut the engine, voices and music wafted out.

Full house. That made Kole happy for Emma and her band. His headache didn’t entirely agree, but he swung his leg over his bike and stowed his helmet before striding toward the doors. He peeked in, getting a lay of the pub and realizing this place was like no pub he’d ever visited in Ireland. The floor was clean, he didn’t smell any livestock nearby, and no one stopped what they were doing to admire him as the great warrior he was.

Or had been anyway.

He did miss that. The prestige and high regard that came with being a member of Reardon’s army. Now he was just another guy looking for a drink in a crowded bar.

You are much more than another guy, wolf soldier.

Now? Flidae showed up in his head now?

Keep your eyes open. Then she was gone.

Keep his eyes open. Aye. Because if he closed them, he’d surely bump into one or more of the bodies packed inside the pub. His chest tightened. Crowds never bothered him before, but all the time he’d spent as a wolf in Alaska and then on the road alone had made him develop an affinity for wide open spaces.

Barnside Pub was not a wide open space.

Maybe he should return to the inn and wait for Emma to come back. He could talk to her then. One-on-one. Tell her how sorry he was again.

He took a step backward, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him from going any farther.

“Not thinking of bailing on us, are you?”

Kole turned to find Brandy and Nika right behind him. “I was contemplating it, aye.”

“Well, re-contemplate it,” Brandy said. “Your cousins are parking my SUV and are juiced about seeing you tonight.”

“Juiced?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Nika said. “Excited, looking forward to it, you know. Juiced.”

He chuckled though it hurt his head to do so. These two women were charming lasses. “Juiced. I guess I learned something new today.”

Brandy bowed and flourished one arm in front of her. “Glad to be of service.”

“You clean up pretty nice, Kole.” Nika elbowed him in the side then peered around him at Brandy. “Can you imagine being on a battlefield and seeing the three of them coming at us?”

“Oh, shiver. Nice image, though it’s probably supposed to be scary.” Brandy looked up at Kole. “If you guys fought women armies, you wouldn’t have to lift a single sword. Expose your abs all together and boom. Instant win.”

The two women laughed and the sound delighted Kole. Aye. He was delighted. He didn’t think he’d ever been delighted, so this was a definite first.

“Leave it to these two to find him already.” Jaemus came to stand behind Nika and pulled her up against him. He rested his chin on the top of her head, a smile on his face Kole didn’t think he’d ever see on Reardon’s second-in-command. But there it was, and Nika had on a matching one as did Reardon and Brandy.

Maybe there was something to this pairing up thing the McAlators were doing.

“We didn’t find him,” Brandy said. “He was standing right here. Waiting for us, right, Kole?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“Aye. Waiting. Right here.” He grinned at her, keeping his secret about pondering leaving.

“Not like we’d have any trouble picking him out. You three tower above the schmucks in there.” Nika pointed into the pub.

Schmucks? Another word Kole didn’t know, but from the looks on Brandy’s and Nika’s faces, he inferred a schmuck was something a person didn’t want to be.

“Shall we then?” Reardon motioned the group into the pub.

They had to enter in a single file, which suited Kole fine. That way no one knew who belonged to whom and that he didn’t belong to anyone. He was content belonging to no one, but he didn’t need the entire pub to know he was on his own.

A waitress clad in a red and white checkered shirt tied at her waist and a short denim skirt with a pair of brown boots on her feet corralled them over to a round table right in front of the stage. All the tables in the vicinity were full except that one.

“I know the owner,” Nika explained. “She always saves me the best table.”

The best table? The best table in Kole’s mind was the one where he could watch Emma from the cover of a darkened corner in the pub. Not one that nearly had the stage spotlight on it.

While he worked through his issues with the table location, Brandy and Reardon sat on one side and Jaemus and Nika sat on the other, leaving the only open seat between the two couples and facing the stage directly.

Blast it all. What were they trying to do to him? Foolish. They didn’t know about his interaction with Emma or the fiddle he’d broken or the making up he was planning to do. Perhaps Fate was toying with him instead.

Or Flidae.

He listened for a moment, but all he heard were the conversations from the nearby tables and the music piped in through speakers. His headache was slamming now and he rubbed his temples.

Brandy leaned toward him. “Are you sure some aspirin won’t help?”

“Aye, I’m sure, but thanks.” He’d forgotten about her being a werewolf too and that she could probably sense things about him.

Then he wondered about Nika? He gestured for Jaemus to come closer at his left. “Nika didn’t want to be turned like Brandy?” He kept his voice low although the chances of anyone hearing his words were slim.

“Not now, no. She’s not against it though.” Jaemus grinned. “She’d make a gorgeous wolf, don’t you think?” He winked at Nika who was chatting with a woman standing by their table, most likely the owner of Barnside Pub.

Kole was about to agree, but Jaemus held up a hand.

“You know what? Don’t answer that. I might have to punch you in the face whether you agree or disagree with that statement. You can’t win so don’t say anything.”

Kole nodded, his gaze going to the stage where a drum kit with the red skull and shamrock design on the biggest drum was set up along with a guitar in a stand, a set of bagpipes, and... a fiddle. Not Grandad’s fiddle, but some other one.

His chest tightened again. He wasn’t loving this trapped animal feeling he currently sported. He wasn’t loving the knowledge that it was because Emma could come on stage at any moment either.

He caught Reardon, Jaemus, and then Brandy sniffing the air and reminded himself to calm the fuck down. They could no doubt smell the anxiety building inside him and tune into his scattered thoughts. He could do this. He could have some dinner and some beers with his cousins and their lasses. He could listen to some music without getting all swept away. He could see Emma without craving her.

A moment later, she stepped out onto the stage, the spotlight casting her in an ethereal glow, and he realized how wrong he was.

****

Wow. Okay. Emma hadn’t expected Kole to be right there, literally ten feet from the damn stage. She wasn’t sure how she’d spotted him so quickly with the stage lights blazing in her eyes. All she knew was she’d taken her position behind the microphone and a crystal blue gaze immediately connected with hers.

And he was with a group. Who were they and why were they all so pretty? The two men were as broad-shouldered and imposing as Kole, but something about him and that closely shaven head was sexier, edgier, grittier. Heat pooled between her legs and she shook her head.

I’m on the stage. Everyone can see me. She had to get her damn head in the gig or she was going to make fools out of Hendrake. Besides, she was supposed to make Kole pay for breaking her fiddle.

“Good evening, snacks,” she said into the microphone, her voice low and husky. She licked her lips as the man next to Kole elbowed him, but Kole didn’t look away from her.

Some laughs and applause filtered through the crowd, some of the people no doubt having seen their show last week in New Hampshire. With the vampire flavor of the group, Hendrake treated their audiences like potential bloodbags. The scene always went over well, garnering laughs and interest from the guests.

Emma had poured on the gothic vamp heavily tonight with skin-tight black pants, a black corset-like top that plumped her breasts, a cropped purple blazer with black skulls embroidered on the lapels, and knee-high black boots with spiked heels. She’d spent some extra time on her makeup, going dramatic with smoky eyeshadow and thick eyeliner. Her naturally red lips were darkened with burgundy lipstick, reminiscent of blood. She’d forgone any blush to intensify her pale skin.

From the expression on Kole’s face when she’d stepped out onto the stage, she’d hit her mark with her ensemble. His full lips actually parted and he sucked in a breath before taking a quick look around at his tablemates. The other two men and one of the women all snapped their heads to him then swept their gazes up to her.

What is that about? She didn’t recognize the others with Kole. Why did they seem suddenly so interested in her?

“Get us started here, Emmy Bear,” Blaithin whispered from her right, his bagpipes in place under his arm.

Right. The gig. The band. The music. Time to play.

Emma narrowed her eyes on the crowd, purposely avoiding looking in Kole’s direction. She had to forget her plan to make him pay. Her brain—her body—couldn’t handle doing the gig and dealing with Kole. And Hendrake had to come first. No time for games.

“Are we thirsty, lads?” She gave Blaithin, Torrin, and Flynn a glance over her shoulder.

“Always!” the three of them shouted.

Flynn immediately followed up with a solitary beat of his drum. Blaithin layered in with his bagpipes, Torrin with his guitar, and finally Emma with her fiddle—the one she’d almost forgotten to pick up and play in her unfocused state.

They rocked through several songs, and soon Emma’s tension melted away. Nothing soothed her like making music. Hearing the crowd clap along or seeing some of them dancing in the pub filled her with a sense of purpose. She’d never survive a boring office job. Never. Fortunately, she didn’t have to have one. The gigs, the fiddle lessons she gave, and the occasional Irish step classes she ran supplied her with enough money for the simple life she led. Grandad had left her a comfortable inheritance as well—one she’d had no idea he was assembling for her until he’d passed on.

Every note I play is for you, Grandad. Emma shot a quick glance up to the ceiling, certain that her grandfather popped in on each set they played. Surely, Heaven would allow him to do that.

The band wrapped up the gig with Midnight’s Kiss, and Emma couldn’t help peeking in Kole’s direction now. She’d somehow managed to keep her gaze somewhere over his head through the show, but this song he knew. She’d played it just this morning for him. A completely different version with only her fiddle. This version now rocked a great deal more with Flynn pounding away on his drums, Torrin killing it on his guitar, and Blaithin squeezing the life out of his pipes.

There were the lyrics too.

Midnight is upon us.

The moon is full above.

Midnight is upon us.

Let me bask in your love.

The song had always been one of Hendrake’s sexier tunes, but singing it tonight, with Kole’s eyes positively glued on her, she’d been pulled toward him. She wanted to slither off the stage, crawl across his table, and take up residence on the strong thighs of his lap. She wanted to feel his hands on her, put her hands on him.

Even though he’d broken her fiddle.

She always worked up a little bit of a sweat performing, but tonight a different heat consumed her. The more she allowed herself to look at Kole, the hotter she felt. It didn’t help that his gaze was unwavering. Those crystal blue eyes simply did not leave her. If Kole were an animal, no prey would ever escape such focus.

Emma kept herself together enough to finish Midnight’s Kiss with the banshee yell, while Torrin, Blaithin, and Flynn all threw their chins up and howled at a fading spotlight representing the moon. The stage grew dark and the crowd went wild.

Biggest. Applause. Ever.

“Holy shit,” Torrin whispered by her ear as they scurried off the stage. “I’ve never heard you sing that song like that before.”

Emma grabbed a towel and dotted at her neck. “Like what? I sang it the same as always.”

“No way,” Flynn said.

“Totally different.” Blaithin passed her a bottle of water.

She took a long swig of it, but it did nothing to cool her off. “What are you guys talking about? I didn’t change anything.” But she had felt different singing it tonight. With Kole out there. Watching. Listening.

“You were... I don’t know... possessed or something,” Torrin said. “As if you were completely in the vampire role, full on Celtic soul. Dark and...”

“Sexy.”

They all snapped their heads to the backstage door.

“Kole.” Emma’s voice didn’t sound like her own. Hoarse, yet fluttery. As if Kole’s presence in the small area was sucking all the oxygen out of the room.

“Hey, come in,” Blaithin said after Emma didn’t move to welcome Kole into their space. “What did you think?”

Although Blaithin had asked the question, Kole’s eyes remained trained on Emma. “I consider myself familiar with many forms of music, but that...” He pointed toward the stage and shook his head. “That was unlike anything I’ve ever seen or heard.”

“So you liked it?” Flynn asked.

“Most definitely. Loved it.” The way the word loved rolled off his tongue made Emma’s heart pump overtime.

“Cool.” Torrin edged himself between Emma and Kole so Kole had to look away. Unless he could see through Torrin, which might be possible considering the heat in those magnificent blue eyes. “Tell everyone you know about us.”

Flynn came to stand next to Torrin with a small stack of Hendrake postcards. “And pass these out. People need visuals.”

Kole held out his hand to take the postcards and gave Flynn a curt nod. He shifted his weight to his left foot to look around Torrin, not intimidated by the smaller man in the least.

“Can I get you a drink, Emma?” He gave her a half-grin. “I seem to recall you saying you were thirsty back on the stage.”

“Smooth.” Blaithin clamped a hand on Torrin’s and Flynn’s shoulders, nudging Torrin out of the way slightly. “C’mon, lads. Let’s go wet our whistles too.”

He ushered the guys toward the door, Torrin hesitating and throwing a glance to Emma. An unhappy glance.

“You should come with us, Emma,” he said.

Something about his commanding tone ruffled Emma’s feathers. “I’ll do what I want.”

Torrin paused a minute longer, giving Kole the hairy eyeball. Emma had to hold in her laugh at the way Kole met Torrin’s stare with a calm aloofness that only served to further get on Torrin’s nerves.

With a soft grumble, Torrin followed Blaithin and Flynn out of the backstage area.

Leaving Emma and Kole alone.

Man, was there a reason they made these backstage areas so small? If she lifted her arm, her hand could brush against Kole’s chest. She absolutely hated that she wanted her hand to brush against Kole’s chest.

“I didn’t upset you by coming, did I?” he asked quietly.

A good question. Had he shocked her by being in the audience? Yes. Though she’d known he’d be out there, actually seeing him right there in front of her had knocked her off kilter. Had he made her all hot and steamy inside by keeping his gaze fixated on her as the band performed? Double yes.

But had he upset her by coming tonight?

“No, I’m not upset.” She took another drink from her water bottle, trying to appear calm and unaffected by his proximity.

His face relaxed. “Good. It was not my wish to upset you.” He studied his black boots, nudging around a plastic bottle cap that must have fallen earlier. “More than I already did this morning.” Slowly, he lifted his head, meeting her gaze. “I’m so sorry about the fiddle, Emma.”

Her body tingled all over at the sound of her name from his lips. What the hell was this reaction to this man she hardly knew?

“It’s... it’s okay.” She cleared her throat. That final banshee yell was always tough on her vocal chords. “I know you didn’t mean to break it. Hell, I knew it was an accident when it happened, but I reacted with emotion, not logic.” She shrugged.

“You forgive me then?” The hopeful arch of his eyebrows made his entire face look innocent and vulnerable.

Yeah, right. Emma was certain Kole McMannus was neither. Probably not even as a young lad. She couldn’t stay mad at him though. Not when he’d come to her show, listened so attentively, and complimented the performance.

“I forgive you. Playing my other fiddle wasn’t that bad tonight.”

“It certainly didn’t sound bad. You were amazing.” He took a step closer.

She shouldn’t be in this tight space alone with him. She should at least take a step back. Maybe she should have followed the guys out for a drink instead of hanging back with Kole.

Perhaps she should lean forward and kiss him.

While that thought was making her core lava-hot, Kole arrowed a thumb toward the door. “You want that drink now? My family would like to meet you. I think you’ve picked up several new Hendrake fans tonight.”

Emma was still thinking about how Kole’s lips would feel pressed against hers, how her tongue could tangle with his, how her mouth might want to explore more than his mouth.

“Emma?” He touched a hand to her elbow.

“Aye?” She blinked several times, but she couldn’t get her focus off of his hand pressed to her elbow. Her mind wandered to what it would be like if his actual flesh were touching hers. Suddenly, she wanted out of that blazer... and the rest of her clothes.

“A drink? Out there?” He angled his head to the door, letting his hand slip from her elbow.

Though she could see his hand was no longer touching her, she still felt him. How was that possible? “A drink. Sure.” Had he said something about his family? “The people you are with? They enjoyed the show too?”

“Aye. Very much. They actually invited me to come tonight, as did Blaithin.”

“Are they why you are in town? Visiting them?” Because he had a room at her grandmother’s inn. People who were in town to stay didn’t rent a room in an inn. They found an apartment or a house.

“Aye, visiting.” He furrowed his brows as if he were contemplating saying something more but then decided not to.

No matter. She wasn’t staying in Vermont either. Hendrake was here to write some new material and plan out their battle strategy. They needed fresh songs and music to catch the eye of a producer. Once they finished their work, they’d be out of the woods too.

“The two men are my cousins. The women are their mates.” Kole nudged her toward the door with his hand on the small of her back.

Again, she wished for less layers of clothing.

“Mates?” She glanced at him over her shoulder as they made their way to the bar.

“Wife, fiancée,” Kole said.

So his cousins were neatly paired off, leaving him flying solo this evening. Only he wasn’t solo right now, was he?

They reached the bar before Emma had too much time to reflect on that notion.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Beauty’s first.” Kole gestured to her, a sexy half-grin nearly melting her.

“Cabernet.” She arched an eyebrow at Kole. “It helps with the image if I drink things that look like blood.”

To her utter surprise, Kole barked out a laugh. A deep, gruff sound that hit her like an orgasm. Her skin goosebumped at the notion of the orgasm he might cause.

“Your grandmother asked me to get a book down from a shelf before I left to come here tonight. One about vampires.” He motioned to her outfit. “I see why she likes them now.”

“Gran is my biggest fan.” Always had been.

“She has good taste in music and books... and people.” He ordered a beer and when they turned around, four people stood in a semi-circle behind them. Again, three of them appeared to be sniffing the air.

Emma inhaled, but didn’t smell anything besides the nacho platter two patrons shared at the bar nearby and someone’s perfume. And why was the fourth one not sniffing?

Kole pointed to each one of them. “Reardon, Brandy, Nika, Jaemus, this is Emma Rhodes of Hendrake.”

Reardon, the slightly taller man with thick black hair and amazing green-gold eyes, extended his hand to her. “A pleasure, lass. Your singing and playing were magnificent.”

She shook his hand, her own getting lost in the size of his. “Thank you. The pleasure is all mine though. We love to see the venue packed with people interested in our sound.”

“It’s so unique,” Brandy said, also shaking Emma’s hand, but shooting quick glances to Kole before she took her hand back. “Your fiddlework was insane.”

“You’re too kind.” Emma’s cheeks heated, which was weird. Usually appreciation for her music didn’t embarrass her. It fueled her. “Would have sounded better if some oaf hadn’t busted my good fiddle this morning.” She elbowed Kole beside her.

Jaemus’s golden-brown gaze flicked to Kole after he and Nika had shaken Emma’s hand. “You already met Emma today?”

“You broke her fiddle, lad?” Reardon asked at the same time.

“Aye, we met at Deer Creek Inn this morning. Her grandmother runs the place.” He leaned toward Emma. “Thanks.” His breath moved her hair and sent shockwaves through her whole body. “I wasn’t broadcasting that tidbit of stupidity which resulted in your fiddle getting broken.”

“Not to worry,” Jaemus said, a smile on his face that made Emma notice the scar jutting through his blond beard. “We have plenty of tales of Kole’s stupidity. We’ll add this one to our records.”

Reardon and Jaemus laughed while Kole scowled at them. After he took a drink from his beer, however, he grinned and gave her a they’re right look.

She studied Reardon and Jaemus then Kole. They were all super rugged and... and manly. What special DNA did they have that made them so delectable?

More importantly, how could she get a taste of the man standing beside her?

****

It appeared Reardon, Jaemus, and Brandy all smelled Emma’s scent as well, but why did they look so intrigued by it? What was going on here? The fragrance was driving him insane. He couldn’t breathe it in deeply enough. He’d been trying, but all that was accomplishing was making him light headed. That would be wonderful. If he passed out at Emma’s feet in front of his cousins and their mates.

And Emma.

At least Nika was acting normal. That made Kole believe Emma’s scent was only picked up by werewolves, but what was the significance?

“Do you have any specific stories you can share about Kole’s stupidity?” Emma asked, a smile on her burgundy lips. Lips that had also infected him with madness as she’d sung lyrics into the microphone during the show. He wanted to be that microphone, allowed so close to her lovely mouth. The way she’d sung Midnight’s Kiss would replay itself in his mind all night. Probably longer.

“Aye, we have tales aplenty,” Jaemus said, a wicked gleam in his golden-brown eyes.

Reardon shot his brother a look and shook his head, the move barely perceptible. “None fit to share with lasses, Jaemus.” He smiled, but a stern warning was in his eyes.

If they told stories, they’d be about their old lives. In Ireland. On the battlefield. In the past. How could they explain that to Emma?

“You’ve witnessed my stupidity firsthand, Beauty,” Kole said. “You need no further tales.”

She pouted and it shouldn’t have been adorable on a woman dressed as a vampire, but gods be damned, it was.

“So where are you from originally? Ireland?” Nika asked. “You talk like they do.” She pointed to the men.

“Aye, Ireland. Carlingford to be exact,” Emma said.

“Where Cúchulainn defeated Ulster?” Reardon asked.

Kole remembered the army riding to help in this battle in the hills of Carlingford, but Cúchulainn had already done his damage.

“Aye, I do believe that’s how the folktale goes.” Emma sipped her wine.

Kole glanced at Reardon and Jaemus. No one was going to inform her that Cúchulainn was no folktale.

The other members of Hendrake wandered over and introductions were made as more compliments to the band circulated. Kole was not thrilled with how this was turning into a bigger party than he’d planned when he’d asked to buy Emma a drink, but what could he do? Besides, his cousins and Brandy still looked as if they were trying to figure something out with their noses. They obviously knew Emma affected him if they tuned into his thoughts at all, but perhaps they were being polite and staying out of his head.

Torrin also appeared to be investigating something. Basically, the space between Emma and Kole. More specifically, the fact that there wasn’t any. Emma’s arm kept brushing up against his as she moved and talked with the group. Each moment of contact made Kole all the more eager to get rid of the crowd around them. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been so aroused and still completely clothed. Thank the gods for the stool behind him that he’d now sat on. If he had remained standing, everyone would have seen how much desire coursed through him.

Finally, finally, Reardon consulted his watch and nudged Brandy. “We should go, fairy lass.” He buried his nose in her hair, and Kole had no doubts about what they were going to do when they got to their home. Jaemus and Nika were looking at each other in the same manner.

He had to admit his cousins had the right idea.

“Stop by the sanctuary first thing in the morning, Kole.” Reardon clamped a hand on his shoulder. He leaned in closer. “We have things to discuss.”

“What kinds of things?” Kole wasn’t sure how to read Reardon’s face.

“Many things.” Reardon released his grip on Kole and threw an arm around Brandy, nudging her toward the exit behind Jaemus and Nika.

After goodbyes, Blaithin and Flynn excused themselves, tugging Torrin with them.

“Are you sure you’re okay alone with him?” Torrin shrugged free of his bandmates and acted as if Kole wasn’t sitting right there.

“You’re the ones dressed as vampires, no?” Kole motioned to them all. “Shouldn’t I be the one in potential danger, all full of blood and such?” And didn’t he wish Emma would bite him?

Emma laughed and Kole took that as a major victory. “I can take care of myself, Torrin. I’ve told you this before. Now, off you go.” She was still smiling, but her eyes told Torrin to not overstep his bounds.

Torrin’s jaw muscles twitched then he glared at Kole before focusing back on Emma again. “Wake me in the morning, Emma. We’ll start early on new material.”

Wake me. As if he wanted Kole to believe they woke each other up all the time. Fine. If Emma was with Kole, she wouldn’t need to be awakened. He’d pleasure her so much, she’d never get to sleep in the first place.

As Torrin walked away, throwing glances over his shoulder all the way to the pub’s open front doors, Emma turned toward Kole.

“I’m sorry about him. We used to date and sometimes he forgets we aren’t anymore.”

“So you won’t be able to roll over and wake him up tomorrow then?” He finished his beer, but kept his eyes on her as he tilted his head back with the bottle.

“No. We have separate rooms at Deer Creek. We’re here together as friends and bandmates. That’s all.”

“Good.” Kole took her wineglass and set it on the bar with his beer bottle. He grabbed her hands and tugged her into the space between his knees. She didn’t resist and he took that as another victory for the evening. “So the chances of me getting slapped for kissing you right now are what?”

Emma’s gaze dropped down to his mouth then flicked back up to his eyes as if she were mad at herself for showing interest. Can’t take it back, Beauty.

“Forty percent chance of slapping,” she said with a grin.

He pulled on her arms until she was a mere inch away. “Forty? That high?” Being this close positively bathed him in Emma’s intoxicating scent. “I’ll risk it.”

Kole released one of her hands, wondering if she’d back up. When she didn’t, he tugged on the one he still held, bringing her that final inch closer. He touched his lips to hers, gently, not wanting her to think he was trying to dominate. He’d never had to restrain himself so fiercely. With that one taste, he wanted to consume every bit of Emma Rhodes.

He managed to take it slow, lightly stealing kisses until she put her free hand on his shoulder and slid it to the back of his neck, hooking him in place. She’d flipped a switch in him and he automatically deepened the kiss, forgetting they were out in public in a still crowded bar.

Time stood still as they kissed, and Kole could hear her heart beating a steady, quick tempo that matched his at the moment. She tasted like the cabernet she’d been drinking, but another flavor came through too. Something uniquely Emma that ratcheted up Kole’s desire for her.

He moved his hands to her waist, locking her in place between his knees. With him still sitting on the stool, she was taller, and he rather liked the position. It gave him the chance to admire her lovely breasts when he pulled away from kissing to take a breath.

Emma’s cheeks were rosy now, not at all the cheeks of an undead Celtic vampire. Her lips were wet and plump from their kiss, and Kole wanted to take a bite out of her. He wasn’t sure if that was the wolf in him or the man. Possibly both.

“Do you want to go somewhere else with me?” None of the people around them were affected by their kissing in public, but Kole simply didn’t want to be with other people. He had his prey. Now he wanted to play with her.

“Desperately,” Emma whispered in his ear before backing up a few steps so his hands had to drop from her waist. “But I’m not going to.”

Kole frowned. “Why not?” Why would she deny them the pleasure they were capable of giving each other?

“You scramble my brain, Kole McMannus. Torrin was right. I can’t be alone with you.” She gestured to the bar around them. “I can’t even be in a crowded pub with you.”

“Me?” He angled his hands at his chest. “I’m harmless.”

“Aye, about as harmless as a wild animal.”

“Do wild animals scare you, Beauty?” Did she somehow know what he was? On some level? Did people sometimes figure it out? What would he do if she did know? Would Reardon and Jaemus be furious? Would they try to do something to her?

Slow down. Why was he panicking? Most likely she didn’t know and judging by the fact that Reardon and Jaemus had let their mates in on the big secret, why did Kole even think they’d hurt Emma if she knew too? Emma scrambled his brain, never mind him scrambling hers.

And gods, his headache was slamming against the walls of his skull right now.

“I don’t mind wild animals,” Emma said. “As long as they are respectful. I’m saying no to going somewhere with you tonight, but...” She leaned forward, her palms flattened on his thighs, and kissed him slowly, her tongue caressing his and pushing him to near explosion. “I’m not saying no to the chase, Beast.”

“Beast?” It could be an insult, but the laugh lines around her eyes and mouth suggested it wasn’t.

“Aye, like Beauty,” she pointed to herself then at him, “and the Beast. The fairytale.”

“Never heard of it.”

“What?” The skin between her dark brows crinkled. “But you called me Beauty.”

“Because you are one.”

“Oh. So, like, literally?” She shook her head. “Okay. Whatever.” She arrowed her thumb over her shoulder. “I’m going to go now, but maybe we can meet up tomorrow?”

“After you’ve worked on your new music?” He positively loved that she was initiating plans. That meant she wanted to see him. He sure wanted to see her.

“Aye. Will you be around the inn?”

“Later in the day most likely.” No sense in seeming too available or as if he’d hang around and wait for her. He did have a brother to find, plus Reardon wanted to see him first thing tomorrow for whatever reason.

“Good. I’ll find you.” She backed away slowly as he stood.

“I hope you do, Beauty.”

She turned, getting instantly swallowed by the crowd. Kole’s keen vision easily tracked her as she went backstage. He stared at that door for a few moments before deciding he needed to get out of that bar and go for a run in wolf form. Being near Emma, kissing her, touching her, had charged him with an energy his human skin could not contain.

Out in the parking lot, he donned his helmet and hopped on his bike. It roared to life and he zipped onto the road into the darkness. When he arrived at Deer Creek Inn, he sniffed, wondering if Emma had beaten him back, but her distinctive aroma only came back to him faintly as if it were old.

Good. If she was already here, he wasn’t sure he could keep himself from banging down her door.

He went up to his room instead and changed into a basic T-shirt and cotton shorts. Quietly, he slipped out the door to the back porch. With a glance around and finding nothing stirring in the vicinity, he jogged to the tree line at the back of the property and took off the shirt and shorts, hanging them on a low tree branch for when he returned.

Kneeling, he shifted into wolf form. He leaned back, stretching out his front legs, then forward to stretch his back ones. His head immediately felt better, all traces of the headache gone with his human form. Tension leached out of his body, but the energy—the desire—Emma had stirred up didn’t wane at all.

Time to run.

Like an arrow, he shot forward, soft earth and leaves cushioning the pads of his paws as he traveled deeper into the woods. He ran and ran for hours, the woods and his wolf form setting everything back into balance. Of course, Kole hadn’t stopped thinking of Emma and how sexy she’d been dressed as a Celtic vampire. Gods, he wanted to see her wearing nothing but those knee-high black boots and a smile. He wanted her under him, over him, next to him. A low growl slid from his throat over the possibilities.

He realized neither of them planned to be in Vermont permanently—he didn’t even plan to be in this time permanently—but having a little fun while he searched for Shawn didn’t seem criminal to him. Not when the fun would no doubt pleasure him like nothing else ever had.

Kole ran another few miles through the crisp night before turning back toward the inn. He should try to get some sleep if he wanted to make good on his plans for Emma and him tomorrow.

With those thoughts distracting his mind, the trees passed in a blur and he plowed directly into some creature. It squealed and hissed as it sailed away from him, a twisting ball of black and white fur.

Before Kole could shake his head from the impact with the other animal, it righted itself and charged at him. It swung its back end toward his face and sprayed him directly in the eyes.

Skunk!

He howled and pawed at his snout and mouth which were full of the horrid, horrid scent and taste. His eyes burned as he lashed out his front legs in an attempt to slay the beastie who had attacked. Touch and hearing were his only functioning senses at the moment, so he stopped and listened.

A faint crunching of brush to his left had him shooting, blindly, in that direction. Aye, he could hear its heartbeat now. Rapid, straining, exerting itself to move quickly and survive.

Tonight is not your lucky night, skunk.

He pounced where his hearing told him the critter panted in the darkness. Opening his jaws, he sunk his teeth into...

Something that did not feel like skunk fur. Something that felt smooth and fleshy and human. Something a little salty with sweat.

The woman’s scream confirmed what Kole had feared.

He immediately shifted to human, his eyes burning even more, but he blinked rapidly until things focused a bit.

On the ground at his feet, a woman lay on her side. She wore gray running shorts and a purple T-shirt with sneakers. Blood gushed from her left calf. She squirmed and moaned a little as she held her stomach then she stilled completely.

Gods...

Kole dropped to his knees before the woman, the skunk odor still overpowering everything and his eyes raw and tearing. He pulled her dark hair away from her face and froze.

“Emma?”

Fuck. He slid his arms under her body and scooped her up, cradling her against his bare chest.

“Hurts...” she mumbled.

Of course it hurt. She’d been bitten by a fucking wolf. A werewolf.

A beast.

Chapter Five

Stopping only to throw on his clothes, Kole raced into the inn and up the stairs to his room with Emma in his arms. He waffled over where to put her so he wouldn’t get her blood all over the room. As he turned in a circle, the bathroom door caught his tearing eyes. He bolted for it, spilling into the room and carefully placing Emma in the bathtub.

She hadn’t moved in his arms as he’d run the rest of the way to the inn. She was still breathing and Kole could hear her heartbeat, but gods, he’d bitten her. Fucking bitten her. He didn’t belong among the humans anymore. Clearly.

He kneeled by the tub and inspected her leg. The bite was deep and still streaming blood. She needed medical attention, but he couldn’t take her to a hospital. Not without supplying a logical explanation. He supposed he could lie about a dog bite or something. Doctors would believe that, but he had no idea if they’d be able to tell it wasn’t a dog. Was there something about a werewolf bite that was radically different than a regular dog bite? How would he know?

But Reardon would.

After rinsing his eyes out as best as he could, he dug out his phone and found Reardon’s number. His phone revealed it was two o’clock in the morning and he hated to wake his cousin, but this was an emergency.

“Aye?” Reardon’s voice was low and scratchy. “Kole, what’s wrong?”

“I bit her.” The words spilled out of him.

“Bit who? Emma? Gods be damned, Kole.” Reardon sounded awake now.

“Not on purpose. I was in wolf form in the woods behind the inn. A skunk sprayed me. I couldn’t see or smell. I thought I was biting the skunk, but it was Emma.”

“What’s her status right now?”

A good question. Kole knew calling Reardon had been the right thing to do.

“She’s unconscious and bleeding in my tub. She definitely looks as if she’s in pain.” She had to be in pain. That torn flesh from his bite on her leg was horrific.

How could he have been so stupid?

Reardon let out a growl. “Bring her here.”

“I can’t. I only have my bike.”

Emma was definitely not in a position to ride on the back of his motorcycle.

“I’ll come get her then and bring her back to the sanctuary. Brandy can tend to her. Be there in ten.”

“What should I do in the meantime?” Kole was desperate to do something.

“Stay with her and don’t let anyone see her,” Reardon said. “I’ll call you when I arrive and you come out with her. Quietly.”

Kole ended the call and turned back to Emma. Her hair was plastered to her forehead and neck, her body coated in a sheen of sweat, her flesh a fevered shade of red. She still held her stomach even while unconscious.

Blood stained the white tub beneath her so Kole got up and grabbed a towel. He moistened it at the faucet and cleaned the bite. More blood flowed though. He ran back into his room and fetched one of his T-shirts which he tore into strips. Using them like a bandage, he wrapped the wound—a wound he’d caused—then bathed her face with a fresh towel.

She opened her eyes for a moment while he dragged the wet towel over her forehead.

“Kole...” She wrinkled up her nose. “Smells... awful...”

The skunk. He opened his mouth to reply, but her eyes were closed again. A second later, his phone rang and he scooped her up.

“Don’t worry, Beauty. We’ll get you fixed up.” He tightened his arms around her. “Then I’ll stay away. I promise.”

When Kole came out the inn’s door, Reardon hopped out of Brandy’s waiting SUV and opened the back passenger door.

“Hurry. Get in.” He closed the door as soon as Kole was inside with Emma in his lap. Once he was back in the driver’s seat, Reardon turned around. “Gods be damned, Kole, you smell terrible.”

“Nothing I can do about it now, cousin. Get moving.”

“Is she burning up?”

“Aye.”

“Shit.”

Reardon peeled out of the inn’s parking area and proceeded to churn up dust on the dirt roads as he sped to Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary. He barely stopped at the front gates then drove the SUV right up to the clinic building Kole had seen earlier.

Reardon tore open the back passenger door. “Brandy’s waiting inside.”

Kole didn’t hesitate for a second. He jumped out and followed Reardon who opened the clinic door and ushered him inside.

“Bring her over here,” Brandy said from a silver exam table.

He set Emma down, her blood on his arm from where it had leaked out of his makeshift bandage. “Can you help her?”

“I’m going to try.” Brandy glanced at Reardon.

“Why don’t we go to the cabin, Kole?” Reardon suggested. “We’ll get you cleaned off and smelling... better.” His eyes actually watered.

Kole’s own eyes were still burning and the skunk smell was wretched. “I’m not going anywhere until I see that Emma’s okay.”

“Fine. At least let’s get out of Brandy’s way then.” Reardon tugged Kole back away from the exam table and pushed him onto a bench seat against a wall. “Is she the only person you’ve bitten?”

Kole whipped his head to face Reardon. “Aye. Of course. I don’t make a habit of going around biting humans, Reardon. I thought she was the skunk.”

“No woman wants to hear that,” Brandy muttered as she unwrapped the T-shirt strips from Emma’s leg. She stumbled back a little.

“What is it?” Kole was on his feet again, but Brandy held a towel over Emma’s leg.

“Umm, Reardon? You should come take a look at this.” Brandy pointed, her eyes wide. “It’s exactly as we thought.”

Kole moved to Brandy’s side. “What did you think? Let me see.”

Slowly, she peeled back the towel. The bite mark was starting to heal. It already looked much better than it had before he’d wrapped it.

“How can this be?” Kole stared in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest.

Brandy didn’t say anything. She cleaned the area and applied some slick ointment, but didn’t bother with stitches, which Kole was certain Emma would need.

Looking at Reardon, Brandy said, “I’ll let you handle this one.” She scrunched up her nose at Kole’s scent and left the clinic.

“What did she mean? Handle what? Reardon, what is going on?”

Kole got closer to Emma. While her face was still flushed with fever and she was curled up in a ball on the exam table, that bite mark was definitely closing on its own. It was like the time he’d gotten into a motorcycle accident in Nevada. Road rash covered his arm, but within the hour he was healed because he was a...

Oh, gods...

He looked over at Reardon. “She’s not... she’s a... no, no. Don’t tell me she’s a...”

“Werewolf,” Reardon finished. “Aye.”

“How? I didn’t know I could turn people with a bite. Fuck.” He paced away then back. “You didn’t turn us with a bite.”

Reardon shook his head. “No. I passed my curse on another way.”

Kole thrust his arm toward Emma. “Then how did this happen?” He scratched his fingertips along his skull then snapped his head to Reardon. “Wait! Maybe she was a werewolf already?” Though she hadn’t smelled like a wolf. Emma’s scent was unique and enthralling, but definitely not werewolf.

“You know she wasn’t a werewolf already, Kole.” Reardon stepped closer and rested his hands on Kole’s shoulders, his eyes watering at the skunk odor. “She’s something else though. Something important.”

“A vampire? Do they exist? Is that why Hendrake chose that look?” If Emma was something extraordinary already, maybe he could forgive himself. Maybe his bite hadn’t done her any significant harm.

“Vampires are not real,” Reardon said. “At least I haven’t met one yet.” He nudged Kole over to Emma. “Is your sense of smell returning?”

“Aye. That skunk scent is overwhelming. I’m sorry.” He stepped out of Reardon’s hold and rubbed his eyes, which were feeling better now.

Reardon waved a hand. “Forget the skunk. Focus on Emma. What does she smell like?”

“I can’t smell anything but skunk right now, Reardon.” But he remembered Emma’s smell. “Back at the pub though, Emma’s scent was driving me wild.”

A slow smile stretched across Reardon’s lips. As if there was anything to smile about right now.

“Have you ever smelled anyone like her?” Reardon asked.

“No. Never.”

“That’s because she’s your soul mate. That’s why you were able to turn her.” Reardon pointed to himself. “I can turn anyone because I was born a werewolf. You, Jaemus, Shawn, and Erik can turn only one person with your bite—your soul mates.”

“Soul mate?” A cloud was forming in his mind. Too much had happened in a little bit of time. He’d become incredibly aroused watching Emma perform, talking to her in the bar, and then kissing her. He’d been attacked by a fucking skunk. He’d bitten a human.

And not just any human. Emma. His soul mate.

“This is all shit you should have told us right from the start, Reardon.” Kole needed someone besides himself to be furious with. His cousin was here so he was it. “We shouldn’t have been in the dark about what being a werewolf means.”

“I agree with you,” Reardon said calmly. “I would have taught you all everything I know if I’d had the time. Flidae separated us before I could.”

Kole hated that Reardon had a logical reason for not informing him about werewolf abilities and soul mates. That took the fire out of his anger, but he needed that anger. It kept him glued together right now. Barely.

“Look,” Reardon put his hand on Kole’s shoulder again and as much as he didn’t want it to, the touch settled him like rubbing against the Alaska wolves used to do. “I know you just met her, but can you deny your powerful attraction to her?”

Kole shook his head. “The moment I saw her at Deer Creek Inn, I knew she wasn’t like anyone else I’d ever met.”

“Aye. That’s the way it was with Brandy for me and Nika for Jaemus.”

“But Brandy asked to be turned. Nika doesn’t want it yet.” Kole brushed Emma’s dark hair aside, her cheeks less flushed, his bite fading. “Emma didn’t get the choice.”

“Like you.” Reardon shook his head. “I’m sorry either one of you is involved in this way of life, but you see that Jaemus and I are happy. Our women accept us. Life is good. It can be that way for you too, Kole.”

“How will she ever forgive me for what I’ve done to her?”

“You’re standing here with me, aren’t you? The man who turned you without your consent.” Reardon gave him a small smile. “Anything’s possible, aye?” He clapped him on the back. “Why don’t you use the shower through there?” He pointed to the far side of the clinic. “Brandy has some special shampoo in there for when the wolves encounter skunks. Works like a charm.”

“Aye.”

“Hey, it’s going to be all right. You’ll see.” Reardon strode toward the door. “I’m going to head back to the house. If you need help when she wakes, call me.”

Kole nodded as Reardon left. He took one more look at Emma, who appeared to be sleeping rather soundly. The crease between her brows, however, told him she was in some pain. Pain he’d caused.

Letting out a low growl, he marched to the bathroom, not able to tolerate the skunk smell any longer. He showered—multiple times—until the pungent odor was finally off him and his eyes stopped stinging. Someone—Brandy, no doubt—had put out a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that probably belonged to Reardon. Kole donned them and threw his own stinking clothes in the garbage where he knotted the bag and took it out to the clinic with him.

He stopped by the exam table and breathed in Emma’s scent. Now that the skunk smell had faded, her fragrance filled his nose completely. Parts of his body were awakening again being this close to her and basking in her scent.

Kole swept her hair off her cheek and pressed a kiss to her smooth, pale skin.

“You deserve more than a beast like me, Beauty.”

He left the clinic, tossing his ruined clothes in the garbage bin outside. With a quick glance to the light on in Reardon’s home, Kole turned toward the sanctuary’s entrance gates and walked out. He had to gather his stuff at Deer Creek Inn and get on with his search for Shawn.

Alone.

****

Emma’s throat was incredibly dry. She knew she should have brought a water bottle on her run, but she’d been so charged after the show and the kissing that she hadn’t wanted to waste the time getting one. She regretted that now as she swallowed and her throat scratched like sandpaper.

And why did her body ache all over?

She ran on a regular basis. It helped clear her mind and she often worked on song lyrics as her sneakers pounded the ground. Her muscles shouldn’t ache as much as they did right now.

Opening her eyes, Emma stretched her arms out over her head, but froze when her gaze rested on an unfamiliar ceiling above her. In the dim lighting, she could definitely tell she was not in her room at Gran’s.

So where am I?

She swung her legs over the side of the exam table. Exam table? Why the hell had she been sleeping on an exam table? Panic fluttered in her stomach as her gaze darted around. The room was large and clean and appeared to be hospital-like with some machines she didn’t recognize. Framed posters on the wall across from her caught her attention so she hopped off the table and walked over to them. One of the posters was titled The Anatomy of the Wolf and was a labeled diagram of the insides of a wolf. Gross. The second was a world map shaded with areas where wolves lived. Although interesting, neither poster told her where she was.

Emma took another few steps before realizing her left sneaker was wet around her ankle. Glancing down, she almost screamed at the red stains—blood stains.

She immediately checked herself over, twisting and bending to find the source of the bleeding, but she didn’t find any gashes that would produce that much blood. A faint scar ran up the back of her calf though. One she didn’t remember having.

Looking around the room, she saw a bathroom in the far corner and headed for it. She flicked on the light and looked in the mirror. Aside from her hair being a total wreck and her face being a little dirty, she was perfectly intact.

Except for her eyes.

They appeared to have a light of their own. Glowing almost. But that didn’t make sense. That wasn’t possible. Gripping the sink, she closed her eyes, willing her body to calm the hell down. When she opened them slowly and regarded herself again, she let out a little squeal when her eyes still glowed.

Focus. There had to be a logical explanation for where she was, how she got here, why her sneakers were stained, where that scar had come from, and why her eyes had their own light. Maybe this was a dream. Perhaps if she got back on the exam table, she’d wake up in her bed at Deer Creek Inn and have a good laugh over this silliness.

She turned to head back to the table when a whiff of something foul caught her attention. Following the scent led her outside to a garbage bin. She removed the cover and reared back at the overpowering skunk odor.

Right. Skunk. There had been one in the woods when she was running. She’d avoided the critter, but something else had collided with it. Something dog-like, but much bigger. Something...

Emma ran back into the room and stopped in front of the wolf posters. A wolf. Aye. A wolf had crashed into the skunk and then... and then the wolf had bitten her. Was that possible? Did that sound ridiculous? Was she going crazy?

Rubbing her temples, Emma leaned forward and rested her head on the wall between the two posters. She had to calm down before she added heart attack to animal bite on the list of tonight’s potential medical problems.

If a wolf did bite her though, where was the torn flesh that should have accompanied that? She stepped back from the wall and stretched her legs out, one at a time, to examine them carefully. When she still didn’t find any bite marks or fresh blood, she sifted out a slow breath and turned around to lean against the wall.

Her gaze roamed around the room before her and settled on a sweatshirt hanging on a hook a few feet from the exam table. She wandered over to it and checked the pockets, hoping to find a clue to her location. While the pockets were empty, a wolf-and-moon logo on the chest and the words Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary gave her the information she needed.

Gran had talked about this place. Apparently, every summer, the owners threw a picnic to raise money. Guests got to come to the sanctuary and hang out with the wolves that lived there. Gran went every year, and it had always sounded like fun to Emma, but she’d never been in the States when the event was held.

But she was at the sanctuary now. She just didn’t know how she got here or why she was here.

As she ran through her options for finding out what the hell was happening, the door opened and two men—big men—came in.

“Reardon? Jaemus?” Why were Kole’s cousins here? Was Kole here too?

“Aye,” Reardon said. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused.”

“But not in any pain?” Jaemus asked.

“I feel achy.” She angled her blood-stained sock toward them. “And where is the bite that should accompany these stains?”

“What do you remember?” Reardon leaned against the exam table while Jaemus hoisted himself up to sit on a steel counter nearby.

“Running through the woods behind my grandmother’s inn. A skunk stinking up the place. A wolf sinking its teeth into my leg.”

The two brothers were quiet for a few moments as if waiting for her to continue.

She held her hands out to either side of her body. “That’s all I have, lads. Then I woke up here.” She gestured to the exam table behind Reardon.

“You talked to Kole, aye?” Reardon looked around the room.

“Kole? No.” Why would she have talked to him?

Jaemus slid off the counter. “Wait. Kole wasn’t here when you woke?”

Emma shook her head. “I was alone. Was Kole here?”

Now Reardon and Jaemus were searching the room, opening doors and poking their heads here and there. Jaemus went outside and a few seconds later the word shit echoed. When he returned, he held up a plastic bag. Emma immediately smelled the skunk.

“He’s gone.” Jaemus frowned then ducked back outside with the bag.

Emma turned to Reardon. “What’s going on here, Reardon? I need some answers. I’m on the verge of a major freak out.”

Reardon held up his hand. “No freaking out. Umm...” He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled a slow breath. “Let’s start with the wolf bite, I guess.”

She held out her leg again. “Aye. Where is it? I remember the pain of teeth sinking in. I obviously bled, but there are no marks, no chewed flesh, not a scratch except for this faint scar. In fact...” She leaned down and ran her finger over her calf. “I had a bruise there from earlier this week when Flynn knocked me in the back of the leg with one of his drums. We were packing the van. It hurt like hell and left a colorful bruise.” She thrust her hands to her calf. “Where is that bruise now, Reardon?”

Her freak-out was closer than she’d anticipated. She swallowed and told herself to relax, but her body had already shifted into panic mode. Her pulse jumped everywhere, her stomach may as well have been turned inside out, and her ears were ultra sensitive. So sensitive, she swore she could hear Jaemus breathing outside.

“So you have the ability to heal faster now,” Reardon said, failing to make anything clearer to Emma.

Jaemus came back into the room. “I tracked him to the front gates. The scent is still fresh so he didn’t leave that long ago. I’ll run over to Deer Creek Inn and see if I can find him.”

“Wait,” Emma said. “I don’t understand what Kole has to do with any of this. I wasn’t with him when the wolf bit me. I was alone, running in the woods behind the inn.”

“Go, Jaemus,” Reardon said, apparently ignoring that Emma had spoken.

Jaemus nodded once then bowed his head at Emma. “Welcome.” He disappeared and though he was gone from the room, Emma could still sense him.

Actually...

She took several steps closer to Reardon and angled her head toward his chest. A steady thudding resonated inside him. Comforting as it was, why the hell was she hearing it?

“Is that... is that your heartbeat I’m hearing, Reardon?”

She got the full force of his green-gold gaze now and holy shit, his eyes were glowing too. “Tell me everything. Right now.”

Reardon let out a low growl and paced away from her. “You are another casualty. One for which I am responsible.”

“Casualty? But I’m not dead.” She slapped her hands to her stomach. “Shit, I’m not dead, am I? This is real, right?” She ran her hands over the exam table. It felt solid enough under her fingertips.

Reardon turned around to face her. “I’m not a regular man.”

“What does that mean? What does that have to do with me?” God, she wished he would get to the explanation, assuming one existed. Maybe someone had slipped something into that cabernet she’d had at Barnside Pub.

“Do you believe in the supernatural, Emma?”

“Like vampires and stuff.” She shrugged. “I think it’s fun to dress up like one as we do in Hendrake. It’s a hoot to take on the role and play with the audience, but no, I guess I believe in things I can see and prove are real.”

As her words still hung in the space between them, a sharp pain cut through Emma’s stomach. Her back arched of its own accord and she dropped to her hands and knees on the cold tile floor.

“What the...” Her breathing kicked up. She couldn’t suck in enough oxygen. A monumental headache crashed through her skull and she grabbed her head. “What’s happening?”

Reardon’s boots came into her line of view then he crouched beside her. “You’re about to see, Emma. Let it happen. Don’t be scared.”

Whenever someone told her don’t be scared, it usually meant to be scared because something horrible was about to happen. If the pain was any indication, this was going to be horrible times ten.

A scream worked its way out of her throat as a loud crack sounded. She searched the room for the source of the noise then nearly vomited when she realized the cracking was coming from her.

From inside her.

Her backbone rippled. She threw her head back and howled. Literally howled.

A second later, she was staring down at two furry, blue-black paws. Paws! She backed away from them, but they followed her as if... as if they were her.

She whipped her head up to look at Reardon only he wasn’t standing nearby anymore. Instead, glowing green-gold eyes set in a face of night-black fur peered at her from around the exam table.

Reardon? Somehow she knew that wolf was him.

Aye.

She skittered back when he walked toward her, revealing all of himself. He was HUGE. Muscles rippled in his legs and he moved like an accomplished predator.

I don’t want to hurt you, Emma. Take a moment and listen, smell. You know I mean you no harm.

Emma twitched her ears. Since when can I twitch my ears? Reardon’s heartbeat, steady and strong, reached her again, calming her, letting her know he wasn’t a threat. She inhaled through a long nose and didn’t smell anything suspicious.

Are we... what are we? Emma asked. She almost asked if they were werewolves, but that sounded like a ridiculous question. How else could she explain her and Reardon’s changed forms, her ability to heal and hear Reardon’s thoughts?

I was born a werewolf. You have been turned.

Reardon came a little closer and Emma didn’t back up this time. She was sure he wasn’t dangerous. Not to her anyway. An enemy would no doubt be an entirely different story.

Why did you turn me? Was I dying or something?

The enormous black wolf shook its head. I didn’t turn you. Kole did. Accidentally.

Kole? But I wasn’t with him.

Reardon rubbed his side against hers. The gesture soothed Emma.

The wolf that crashed into the skunk was brown, aye?

Aye.

That was Kole. He mistook you for the skunk and bit you. He grieves over his actions.

Emma was distracted by her tail—I have a tail!—but her gaze snapped to Reardon when he said Kole was grieving.

He should be grieving. He’d turned her into... into a beast. Kole had said he didn’t know the Beauty and the Beast story. Well, he knew it all right. At least the Beast part, and he knew it well.

Had he bitten her because she’d said no to going somewhere with him tonight? Had he been mad at her refusal? She hadn’t been refusing him. She’d wanted him. Holy shit, her arousal had been at an all-time high, but she needed a little time to think. She couldn’t think around Kole, and she didn’t want to do anything she’d regret later.

But she had regrets now. She was covered in fur, had four legs, and a tail. She wanted meat and to chase things. She wanted to fight.

Kole.

She wanted to fight Kole.

Where is he? Her thoughts growled inside her head.

Reardon rubbed against her again, but she didn’t want to be soothed. She wanted to tear into someone. She wanted to hunt Kole down and make him pay for biting her.

Easy, lass. Kole didn’t mean to turn you. He didn’t know he could, but you’re his soul mate—the one person he can turn. Reardon sniffed along her back. You like him.

I did. I’m so over that now. This was why Emma had to focus on her music. Getting involved with handsome men never worked out. And sometimes—times like this—not only didn’t it work out, but it also when horribly, horribly wrong.

We have a pack here, Emma. You can be a part of it. The sanctuary wolves, Brandy, Jaemus...

Emma jerked her head in Reardon’s direction. Brandy and Jaemus are werewolves too?

Aye.

And the sanctuary wolves?

No. They’re natural wolves, but they accept our wolf forms as if we are just like them. You’ll see. Having a pack is...

Not for me. She stood—on four legs—and though she felt strong and invincible, she wanted out of that wolf form. Now.  How do I change back?

Reardon stared at her for a long, silent moment. His glowing eyes bored into her, but she didn’t look away. She understood he was probably the Alpha or something, but she wasn’t buying into this pack bullshit. She was a woman. A human woman. She planned on always being that. Nothing else.

Picture your human form, Reardon said.

Emma closed her eyes and pictured herself in her running shorts and T-shirt. A moment later, she was sprawled on the floor in human form. Only her running shorts and T-shirt were gone. She was totally naked.

Jesus.

Reardon shifted back to human as well and she squeaked when she took in his naked form.

Wow, Brandy is a lucky girl...

Shit. Emma hoped he couldn’t still hear her thoughts, but the grin on his face told her he was tuned in. Dammit.

She bolted for the sweatshirt on the hook and fumbled into it. Fortunately it was long enough to cover her goods.

Reardon, however, hadn’t scrambled to cover his goods, and that grin was concerning.

“After a while, nakedness isn’t that big a deal,” he said. “Werewolves get used to it.”

“Well, I’m a human. I’ve been one for thirty-four years and plan to continue to be one. I will not get comfortable prancing around naked or being in the company of those who are.”

And she absolutely would not be a werewolf.

Chapter Six

Kole secured his bag on the back of his bike, wishing it were still night. The darkness always forgave him. The light of dawn on the other hand revealed everything about him that was downright evil.

And cowardly.

He should have stayed at the sanctuary and waited for Emma to awaken, but he couldn’t bear looking into her eyes and telling her the terrible news.

I’ve turned you into a werewolf. Surprise!

Kole had hated hearing that news when Reardon had turned him. He couldn’t imagine Emma would like it any better. He’d known being around her would be dangerous. He just hadn’t known how much.

Straddling his bike now, he paused in starting her up when a car pulled into the parking lot. Jaemus got out, and Kole seriously contemplated letting his engine rip.

As if sensing that line of thinking—which he probably had—Jaemus jogged over.

“Running away?” He stood in front of the motorcycle.

Kole tightened his grip on the handlebars. “Do you think I won’t run you over?”

“You can try, but I don’t go down that easy, cousin. You know this.”

Kole let his hands slip down to rest on his thighs. “If you’re here to tell me I’m a coward, don’t bother. I already figured that out.”

Jaemus made a checkmark in the air with his index finger. “Good. That’s one thing off my agenda.”

“Let me go, Jaemus. I’ve got a brother to find.”

“You also have a soul mate to claim. You’ve already turned her. The least you can do is love her and be with her forever.” Jaemus folded his arms across his chest. While his tone was teasing, his stance suggested he might want to punch some sense into Kole.

“Look, it’s better for everyone if I go. I made a stupid mistake.”

“And you’re about to make another.”

Kole shook his head. “No. I’m doing the right thing by leaving. I need to find Shawn. Emma needs to write her music. We need to go our separate ways.”

“So you’re going to make that choice for her too?”

“That’s not fair, Jaemus. I didn’t mean to take the choice away about being turned.” Kole got off his bike and stood toe-to-toe with his cousin. “If your brother or you,” he poked a finger into Jaemus’s chest, “had told me about this soul mate bullshit, I would have been more careful.”

“More careful with whom you sunk your teeth into?”

“Stop baiting me.” Kole stomped away from Jaemus then stomped back. “What if you accidentally bit Nika? What if you took her choice away? You’re telling me you’d still be able to be around her, knowing what you did?”

Jaemus puffed out a breath. “No, I’m not telling you that. I’d hate my guts if I did that to Nika. I wouldn’t see any way she’d be able to forgive me. How could she look at me and not see anything but the monster who took her humanity away?”

While Kole had wanted his cousin to see his side of things, perhaps he hadn’t wanted him to be so agreeable. Breathing was becoming laborious. Being in his human body was too constricting. He needed out of here.

“However,” Jaemus continued, “I also wouldn’t want to leave her to figure things out on her own just as we’d been left. I don’t blame Reardon... anymore, but being a werewolf should come with a manual. It doesn’t. We’re the manual.”

“How can I be the manual, Jaemus? I don’t know anything about being a werewolf besides the shifting, the healing, the heightened senses.” The fucking headache.

“The turning of one’s soul mate with a single bite.”

“Aye, and I learned that one a little too late.”

“But if you had known, do you think it would have stopped you from biting Emma? You said it yourself. It was an accident. You were blinded by the skunk. You couldn’t smell. You thought you were biting that critter, not a lass.”

Jaemus wandered over to Kole’s bike and threw his leg over it, getting comfortable in the seat. Was he truly trying it out or just keeping Kole from hopping on and peeling out of that parking lot, out of Vermont, out of Emma’s life?

And why did the thought of not being in Emma’s life make Kole’s chest feel hollow? He hadn’t had a steady woman in his life ever and he’d been fine. All these years.

But now? Now he couldn’t get the scent of Emma out of his nose, the feel of her lips off his mouth, the sound of her heartbeat out of his ears. What was that all about?

Soul mates, Flidae said. She’s yours, wolf soldier. No other woman will do.

But he wasn’t looking for a woman.

But you found one anyway. She is part of your Destiny.

That flowery statement didn’t help him one bit. His Destiny. What did that even mean?

If you leave now, you’ll never know.

A growl slipped out of his throat and Jaemus peeked up from admiring his motorcycle.

“Flidae taunting you?”

“Aye.” Kole ground his teeth together. He’d never been such an emotional mess. He didn’t care for it.

“In my experience,” Jaemus got off the bike, “it’s best to go along with Flidae. I didn’t want to, trust me, but it does appear to work out for the best in the end.”

“For you and Reardon. Not for me.”

Another car pulled into the parking lot beside Jaemus’s car. Emma’s car.

“Your turn is up, cousin. Remember, this isn’t the battlefield we’re used to. Be gentle. Look harmless. Beg if you have to. The love of the right lass—your soul mate—is like nothing else. You don’t want to miss out.” Jaemus squeezed Kole’s shoulder then walked toward Emma.

Her eyes shot daggers at Jaemus and he actually stepped around her in a wide arc.

“You.” Her eyes were glowing blue fire at Kole and he remembered the loose grip on control he’d had as a new werewolf. If he wasn’t careful, she might rip him up into pieces without trying that hard.

And why did she have to be so damn gorgeous? That made things more difficult. In a Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary sweatshirt and... and men’s shorts, she was breathtaking.

She narrowed her eyes at the pack on his bike then let out a raspy growl. He probably shouldn’t have found that so sexy, but gods be damned, the sound was magnetic. Kole could only think about getting his hands on Emma.

And of course her smell was back in full force.

Pointing to his motorcycle, she clenched her teeth. “You’re leaving? Just like that? Completely destroy my life and then you’re on your way?”

Jaemus let out a whistle at his car door, but scooted inside the vehicle when Emma whipped her head toward him. He gave Kole a wave through the windshield and drove off.

Drive off. Kole should do that too. He could still do it actually.

“You’re life isn’t completely destroyed.” He edged around her and reached his bike. “Only partially. I apologize. I didn’t mean to do this to you.” He sat on the motorcycle, his eyes watching her carefully. She’d be experiencing a big increase in strength right now. If she used it on him, he might not emerge the victor.

“What am I supposed to do now?” She flapped her arms out to her sides. “How am I supposed to survive as a werewolf?”

Kole immediately hopped off his bike and stalked over to her. “Step one would be to not yell you’re a werewolf in the middle of a public place. That shit needs to be a secret.” He grabbed her arm and instantly knew that touching her was yet another mistake on his part. The moment his flesh connected with hers arousal flared inside him. Images of the two of them, naked and panting, flashed into his mind and closing his eyes did not get rid of them.

She wrenched her arm free and gaped at him. “What was that?”

The power of soul mates, Flidae whispered.

Emma turned in a circle, her gaze darting to every corner of the parking lot. “Who said that?”

Jaemus was right. Kole couldn’t leave her without any explanations. He had to share what little he knew that could help her transition to the complicated life of a werewolf.

“Come with me.” He stopped at his motorcycle and untied his pack. He’d stay long enough to get her up to speed then he’d be off to search for Shawn again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, Kole. Being in your presence has proven hazardous to my health.”

He shook his head as he walked toward her. “Actually that’s a false statement. Your health has been greatly improved by my bite.”

Her pupils zipped open at the words my bite. Such conflict. She was pissed as hell at him for what he’d done to her, and rightly so. But... she also wanted him. Badly. Desire perfumed the air between them.

“Great. I won’t suffer during flu season, but I can grow fur and sprout a damn tail.”

“Again, keep your voice down.” Kole shot a look around the parking lot. Thankfully, it was still too early for anyone to be out and about.

“Why is the existence of werewolves such a big secret anyway?” she asked. “If people knew, maybe they could protect themselves. What stops you beasts? Silver? Wooden stakes? Guns?”

“No to silver. Yes to the stakes and guns if aimed appropriately.” He motioned to the inn behind her. “Now let’s go in and continue this chat. I’ll explain what I know, which isn’t much.”

Emma turned to look at the inn and the saddest look Kole had ever seen washed across her beautiful face. The expression tore him up inside. She appeared so... lost.

And it’s all my fault.

“What if I run into Gran? Will she be able to tell what I am?” All the color drained from her cheeks.

“She didn’t figure out what I am, so no, I don’t think she’ll know you’re like me.”

Emma glared at him. “I’m nothing like you. Nothing.” She marched past him, but quieted her steps when she reached the wooden stairs on the back porch.

Kole followed behind her. She didn’t hold the door for him and it nearly slammed in his face as he juggled his pack. He had experience with pissed off females. He’d angered a few in his travels searching for Shawn, as well as in Ireland, but a pissed off female werewolf had an extra edge that was particularly sharp.

And sexy.

She literally tiptoed up the stairs and stopped at her door. “Damn it.”

“What’s wrong?” Kole whispered.

“I don’t have my key. I don’t have anything because my clothes ripped off me when I... you know.” She checked down the hallway in both directions. At least she was learning to be covert about her new condition.

“Come to my room.” He walked toward his door, but turned around when he didn’t hear her following. “Look, I’m not freshly sprayed—directly in the face by the way—by a skunk. I can see. I can smell. I won’t be making any more mistakes.”

She walked toward him. “Well, you can’t turn me twice, can you?”

He desperately wanted to tell her any biting he did would only pleasure her, but now was definitely not the time to bring up that fun fact.

Instead, he waved her into his room then closed the door behind him. He set his pack on the dresser and didn’t know what to do next. The room was considerably smaller than he remembered. Or was it because a glowering, pacing Emma now filled it?

She stopped moving and regarded him. “There really is no way to take this back?”

“No.” Gods be damned, how he wished the answer was yes. For her. For him. For Shawn. “It’s permanent.”

“Fabulous.” She sat on the end of the bed, crossed her legs, uncrossed them, then moved to the chair in the corner of the room instead. “Okay, so first question, we can control when the wolf comes out, right?”

Good. An easy question. “Aye. You don’t ever have to be in wolf form if you don’t want to.” He ran his fingers over his shaved head and hesitated before sitting down.

“But...”

“But you will probably want to be a wolf here and there.”

“Doubtful. I plan to pretend I’m as human as I always was.”

“If you can do it, great. I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Kole tapped his temple. “Being in human form gives me headaches. Bad ones.”

“Do you have one right now?” Compassion may have crept into her eyes. Possibly. She crossed her long, beautiful legs. Legs Kole wished were wrapped around his waist.

“Aye. My head is screaming.”

“Good.” Her pouty child impression was spot on, but her expression instantly changed. “I’m sorry. It’s not good that your head hurts. I just want... I want...”

“Me to pay for what I did to you?”

She studied her lap for a long quiet moment. “Aye, and that’s immature of me. You’ve explained the circumstances.You didn’t hunt me down in the woods with the intent of turning me.” Now she peeked up at him. “Did you?”

He held his right hand up. “I swear to the gods, I didn’t even know you were in the woods. I went for a run after leaving the pub. I was a little—”

“Keyed up?” She actually grinned, her eyes darkening to a deeper shade of blue that sucked Kole in. “Me too.”

Good to know. “There was no way I would’ve been able to sleep. And my head was pounding. Running in wolf form for a while seemed like the perfect solution.”

“And then the skunk showed up.”

“That fucker got me right in the eyes and nose.”

“Your eyes are still bloodshot.”

“I’m not surprised. It hurt like hell even for a werewolf.” He got up and examined himself in the mirror on the wall above the dresser. Sure enough, the whites of his eyes were still pink with irritation. He turned around and leaned against the dresser. “When I heard something nearby, I assumed it was the skunk, but I couldn’t see it or smell it.”

“If you could have smelled, you would have known it was me?” She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

“Without a doubt.”

“How?”

“Your scent is imprinted on my memory, Emma. I couldn’t forget it if I tried. Don’t you smell me?” If they were truly soul mates, she should be able to smell him and his scent should please her.

She raised her delicate nose and sniffed, making Kole desperately want to see her in wolf form.

“Come closer,” he said. “That might help.”

Emma hesitated then rose from the chair. “You don’t move if I come over there. Understand?”

“I promise to be a statue.”

She approached as if she were trying to corner a deadly animal, which wasn’t all that far off the mark. After every few steps, she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes and craning her head back. Her exposed throat beckoned to Kole’s lips and he immediately regretted telling her to come closer. Sharing space with her and not being able to touch her everywhere was torture.

“I still smell skunk a little.”

“He got me good.” Not the scent he wanted her to associate with him at all.

Emma took a few more steps toward the dresser, close enough that Kole could touch her. If that weren’t totally against the rules right now.

Her eyes were closed as if she were trying to block out all other stimuli aside from what her nose picked up. “I smell something like... what I think clouds smell like. Something crisp and open.” She opened her eyes, the blue vibrant and electric. “Does that make sense?”

“Aye. It’s what I smell like to you.”

“I smell something else too. Something musky and masculine. What’s that?” She took a wary step back, but her pupils were enormous as she stared at him.

“Attraction.”

“Attraction?” Her brows furrowed adorably. “To you?”

He nodded.

“Do you smell that for me too?”

“Aye. I’ve smelled it since I met you.”

“Oh.” Her brows rose over that revelation, and Kole rather liked surprising her. In a small-scale way. Not in the surprise-you-can-turn-into-a-wolf-now large-scale way. “Is this all part of the soul mate business?”

“I guess so. This is an area where I need more information myself,” he said. “I didn’t know anything about soul mates or that I could turn someone with a bite.”

“Where can we get answers to those topics?” She was an arm-length away, but that was too much. The desire to touch her, hold her, make love to her was making Kole’s jeans tighter and tighter.

“Reardon should have the answers.”

“He’s the one who turned you?”

“Aye.”

“Why ?”

He couldn’t tell her so they could fight the Spanish king’s enemy back in the past. Learning werewolves were real and she’d become one... that was probably enough for one day.

“To keep people safe.” That wasn’t a lie. The entire army surely would have perished if a small contingent hadn’t had the ability to shift to wolfman form and overpower their opponents.

“I didn’t end up safe.” She pointed to herself and turned away from him. Unfortunately, her backside was as appealing as her front. If he didn’t get his hands on her soon, he wasn’t sure what would happen.

Slowly, he came up behind her. “I want you to remember how you were feeling in the pub. Last night. With me.” If he was still feeling that attraction, that instinctual need to be with her, she was too. “Did you think I was going to hurt you then?”

She peered at him over her shoulder. “Of course not.”

“The same is true now, Emma. I would never intentionally hurt you. Never.”

She turned, her eyes sad. “I know, but I have to live with the consequences of this accident. It’s a lot to deal with right now.”

“I’ll help you.” He dared to run his index finger along her jaw.

“You’re ready to leave, Kole.” She gestured to his pack still sitting on the dresser.

“I could be convinced to change my mind.” He let his gaze drop to her lips. Ones that had parted. Ones that she moistened with her tongue.

Ones that didn’t back away from him.

****

Why did he have to be so damn beautiful with that stubbled jaw and crystal blue eyes? Even irritated from the skunk spray, those eyes could stir things up inside Emma. Things that were getting harder and harder to ignore. She’d been furious with Kole when she’d first seen him in the parking lot with Jaemus, all prepared to bolt out of the inn without a word to her. Learning he got headaches when in human form, realizing his eyes still stung from the skunk attack, and knowing him biting her was truly an accident made some of her anger dissipate.

The way his focus was zoomed in on her lips right now threatened to erase the last shreds of her fury. That scent—the one Kole said was attraction—was claiming her sense of reason as well. She wanted to snuggle up to that fragrance, wrap it around her like a fleece blanket, and never let it go.

“I did a terrible thing to you, Emma,” he whispered as he hooked some of her hair behind her left ear. “I should leave. I should get on my bike, zip out of Vermont, and not look back. It’d be the best thing for you.” He took a step closer, looking down at her with those mesmerizing eyes. “But being away from you physically hurts me. I don’t think I can go. I don’t want to.”

His lips were mere inches from hers now and the drive to consume them overwhelmed Emma. She pressed her mouth to his and when his arms came around her back and pulled her body against his, she let out a growl that rumbled in her throat.

Kole ripped away from the kiss for a moment. “That was the hottest sound I’ve ever heard.” His mouth devoured hers again before she could reply.

Emma pushed Kole’s leather jacket off his shoulders. It fell to the floor with a jingle and a thud, but that didn’t interrupt their kissing. Nothing could interrupt their kissing. Not when so much fire burned from that point of contact. Not when Emma craved more points of contact.

She slid her hands under his T-shirt and maneuvered it up until Kole broke the kiss long enough to wiggle out of the shirt completely. It joined his jacket at their feet as Emma let her fingers glide over Kole’s muscled chest.

He sucked in a breath when she coasted over his ribs, his muscles tightening.

“Werewolves are ticklish?” Not a trait she’d expect.

“This one is.” He grabbed her wrist to stop her from moving her fingers.

Lightly biting his lower lip got him to release her, and she made use of her mobility to unzip his jeans and peel them off his hips. Emma couldn’t remember a time she’d been so forward in undressing a man. She usually let herself be undressed and left the man to strip on his own. Men never had a problem getting themselves naked.

Being with Kole was different. Werewolf different? She wasn’t sure, but she needed him naked like she needed her next breath.

She let her lips travel over his chin, along his jaw, down his neck, to his bare shoulder. Lowering, she grabbed the sides of his jeans and boxers and scraped them both down his legs until she got to his boots. Luckily, they’d been hastily tied and she was able to quickly rid him of them along with his jeans and underwear.

When she looked up at him from on her knees, the view was spectacular. His legs were long and muscled. His abs were tight and toned. His arms could probably carry an elephant, and his cock... oh, his cock was ready to bury itself somewhere.

“You.” Kole’s voice was low and raspy. “Naked. Now.” He pulled her to her feet and unzipped the Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary sweatshirt Emma wore. He growled when he discovered she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. “Wonderful.”

He let the sweatshirt drop to the floor then in a swift move that made Emma squeak, he picked her up and deposited her onto the bed. Running his hands up her legs, he stopped at the waistband of the shorts.

“Whose are these?”

“Reardon’s.” She met his gaze. “He gave them to me after I changed into a wolf in front of him.”

Something flickered in Kole’s eyes. The blue glowed as hers had. “He saw you change? He saw you naked?”

Emma propped herself up on one elbow. “You left me there, Kole. Reardon was trying to help me.”

Kole squeezed his eyes closed. “I know he was. Doesn’t stop me from being insanely jealous that he saw you naked though.”

Raising her arm, Emma settled her hand on Kole’s cheek. “But that’s all he did. See me. You’re doing quite a bit more.”

This earned her a core-heating grin as Kole pulled off the shorts and added them to the pile of discarded clothes. “Quite a bit more indeed, Beauty.”

“Guess I’m the Beast now too.”

Kole’s hands stopped the expedition they’d been taking along her marvelous legs. “You could never be a beast.”

“You haven’t seen me with a tail yet. You don’t know.” She shivered when his callused hands resumed their travel up to her thighs.

“I know.”

He crawled onto the bed, bending her legs as he moved and exposing her core. When he settled between her knees and gently opened her thighs wider, anticipation rolled through her.

“You smell wonderful,” he whispered before pressing his nose to the inside of her thigh then lightly biting her flesh.

She reached down and scratched her fingertips along his nearly shaved head, loving when he let out a hot breath against her. His scruff scraped along her thighs as he dropped kisses everywhere but where she needed them most. When she moaned and shifted beneath him, he chuckled.

“In a hurry?” He looked up at her with those enchanting eyes, a lethal grin on those skilled lips.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Do werewolves live longer than normal?”

“Aye.”

“Then I guess we have loads of time.”

“But werewolves are also impatient.”

“Then don’t make me wait.”

She hooked her leg around him and ran her foot up and down his spine, pulling him in closer, claiming him as hers.

This is crazy.

She should be staying away from a man like Kole. He was dangerous. He’d turned her into something she shouldn’t be. Not being with him, however, made her feel lost and empty.

Soul mates need each other.

Emma froze. Where had that voice come from? A woman’s. She’d heard it earlier too.

“What’s the matter?” Kole asked, his lips still pressed to her thigh.

“A woman. I keep hearing a woman’s voice. In my head.”

Kole raised his head to look at her. “What’s she saying?”

Why wasn’t he alarmed that she was hearing voices?

“She just said, ‘Soul mates need each other.’”

“Aye. That’s Flidae, goddess of wild things.” He went back to kissing along her hips, his tongue gliding along her flesh in a way that almost made her incapable of remembering words. Almost.

She touched his shoulder so he would look at her again. “Flidae? Why is she speaking to me?”

“Because you’re a wild thing now. She speaks to all of us.”

“Like on a constant basis?” Because that could get annoying.

Kole shook his head. “No. Just now and then. If you don’t piss her off, I think she talks to you less. If you do piss her off, you end up like me and Reardon and Jaemus?”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s a long story.” He gestured to her naked body. “I’m a little busy right now. Maybe we could talk about it after?”

He didn’t give her a chance to answer. Instead he stroked her wet folds with his tongue and sent her to another dimension. In mere moments, she was writhing in ecstasy and trying to catch her breath. When the orgasm hit her, it was like nothing she’d ever experienced before.

Maybe being a werewolf wasn’t so bad.

“I need you in me, Kole. Now.” She didn’t know how, but she was ready to orgasm again. She gripped his shoulders, coaxing him up toward her head so she could get her lips on his.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Laughing, he scooted off her and disappeared for a second. When he came back, he had a condom packet which he tore open. “I don’t know how reproduction works among werewolves.”

“Best to be careful.” She was on birth control, but maybe she didn’t need to be anymore. Maybe the danger of getting pregnant was something she no longer had to worry about. Ever. Was having children another decision that had been taken away from her by Kole’s bite?

“Emma?” Kole brushed her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Are you okay?”

“Aye.”

“That won’t do,” he said with a grin. “You need to be better than okay. Much better.”

Kole lowered his head and captured her mouth in a kiss that could have burned the room—maybe the entire world—down. His body was hard atop hers and hot, feverish almost.

Wrapping her arms around him, Emma pushed aside thoughts of not having children for now and delighted in the feel of his muscles shifting under her grasp. Power radiated beneath his flesh. Strength. Energy. She felt as if she were bathing in his... essence. As if she were becoming a part of him.

When he eased into her on a slow, purposeful thrust, she nearly howled in pleasure. He fit inside her perfectly, filling her like no one ever had. It didn’t take long for her to be panting his name as he moved in and out of her with a rhythm no regular man would have the stamina to maintain.

She came on a shout that probably startled anyone in the inn, but she was too washed in bliss to care. He shuddered with his orgasm a moment later, his entire body tightening then collapsing onto her. He was big and heavy, but she didn’t want to have him anywhere else but exactly where he was, cradled between her legs, his head nestled in the curve of her neck, his nose rubbing against her flesh.

The words soul mates were beginning to have more meaning to Emma. She’d never been with anyone quite like this. What she and Kole had done in that bed went way beyond fucking or sex or even making love.

She was certain they’d actually shared souls somehow. She didn’t know much about the man draped across her right now. She didn’t know where he’d been before coming to Vermont. She didn’t know anything about his family. She didn’t know if he liked broccoli or scary movies.

She did, however, know what was in his heart.

Chapter Seven

Kole could spend his entire lifetime pleasuring Emma and it wouldn’t be enough. She fit around him like a glove and pumped him until he couldn’t think of anything besides her. He’d had sex plenty of times—both in his time and this time—but never, not once, had he forgotten where he was. With Emma, all he knew was her. What she tasted like. What she smelled like. What her skin felt like. What color her eyes became when she was in the middle of an orgasm. What the noises she made while making love sounded like.

Looking at her now, lying on her back, half of her wonderfully naked body tucked under his, he didn’t see how they could ever leave that bed. This right here was paradise.

“How come I feel as if I could go several more rounds?” She shifted and cuddled in closer against his chest. “Is increased libido part of being a werewolf?”

“It might be, but I have a feeling it’s more than that.” What they’d done went way beyond common lust. “I’m addicted to you after one taste.”

A smile lit up Emma’s face. “Exactly. I hardly know anything about you, but that doesn’t seem to matter.”

He shifted slightly so he could catch her mouth in a kiss again. When her hand came to rest on his cheek and she deepened the kiss, he hardened all over again, ready to bury himself in her.

“So... does this mean you forgive me?” He’d never wanted anything so badly than for her to say she didn’t blame him for turning her. So much to ask, too much, but he hoped with everything he had.

Emma traced a fingertip along his lips, outlining them before pressing her mouth to his in a soft kiss. When she pulled away, she met his gaze. “If being a werewolf means having experiences like this with you,” she motioned between them with her hand, “then I guess there’s nothing to forgive, Kole. In fact, maybe I should be thanking you.”

In a quick roll, she maneuvered herself to the top and straddled him. Her long, black hair hung down, tickling his shoulders.

“Can I pick how you thank me?” He arched an eyebrow and tugged on the ends of her hair. He’d have to rummage in his pack and find another condom.

“Nope. I choose.”

She slid down his body, lightly raking her fingernails along his chest, abs, and hips until her mouth was lined up with his cock.

Sweet goddess, she isn’t going to...

Emma’s mouth closed around his dick and he moaned. She swirled her tongue over his shaft, sucking gently at first, then more aggressively until he sat up and plunged his hands into her hair. Cradling the back of her head, he shuddered.

“I’m going to come, Beauty.”

When she didn’t stop what she was doing at his warning, he released his grip on her head. She still didn’t stop suckling him, and before he knew it, he was emptying himself into her mouth. He finished on a gasp, the room spinning in a dizzying circle around him.

Emma sat up, her smile so sweet and in direct contrast to the naughty things she could do with that mouth.

“Consider yourself thanked, Beast.” She licked her lips. “Although, I had as much fun as you did I think.”

“So you don’t have any room for more fun then?” Kole asked, loving the pout his question caused.

“Now, let’s not get crazy. There’s always room for more fun.” She let out a giggle when he grabbed her and seated her in his lap.

He leaned in to kiss her again, but a knock on his door made them both freeze.

“Shit,” she hissed. “What time is it?” She peeked around Kole to see the alarm clock on the bedside table. “I was supposed to wake Torrin. He’s probably looking for me.” She popped off the bed and waffled between grabbing her clothes and hiding in the closet.

“Kole?” Torrin called from the other side of the door. “You in there?” A few moments of silence stretched on as Emma wrestled with her sweatshirt. “I can’t find Emma.”

“Kole, get him to go away,” Emma whispered. “I need to sneak back into my room.”

A flash of irritation sparked in Kole over the intrusion and the fact that Emma appeared to not want to get caught in his room. She had to keep being a werewolf a secret, but the intimacy they’d just shared didn’t need to be.

If her eyes didn’t look so panicked, he may have called her out on her obvious embarrassment at having been with him. Instead he lumbered out of bed and pulled on his boxers and jeans. He opened his door a crack and eyed Torrin.

“Hey. Have you seen Emma?”

Seen her? I did more than see her.

“No.”

Torrin stared at him, waiting for him to say more. Kole listened to the man’s heartbeat as it drummed in his chest. He rather liked making the guitarist nervous. Gave him the upper hand. Always good to have the upper hand in battle.

Only he wasn’t in battle. Was he?

“Okay,” Torrin finally said after they’d stared at each other. “If you do see her, tell her I’m looking for her.”

“Aye. Got it.” Kole closed his door before Torrin could say anything else.

Emma sunk to the floor by the closet and sifted out a breath. Then she looked up at Kole as if sensing something was off. Her eyes widened. “Oh, Kole. I’m not... I don’t regret any of what we shared. None of it.”

“I didn’t say you did.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“You didn’t have to, soul mate.” She stood, stepped closer to him, and tapped his forehead with an index finger. “I heard it.”

Damn.

“Damn is right. This soul mate business really bonds, doesn’t it?” She flattened her hand on his bare chest, rubbing her fingers lightly over his skin and making him forget his irritation.

“Appears so.” He took her hands and held them. “Why don’t you want him to know?”

“We’re in Vermont to work on our music. If Torrin is mad at me, he’s not going to give his all to Hendrake. He’s going to sulk and try to make me feel guilty.”

“Guilty about what? Having fun with me?”

“Aye. We’re not here to have fun.”

“If you decided to have fun with him, I bet he’d change his mind about what you’re here to do.” Kole didn’t like the jealousy in his voice, but it was instinctual.

She’s your soul mate, wolf soldier, Flidae said. She belongs to you.

Only Kole knew that wasn’t how the world worked in this time period. If you told a lass she belonged to a lad, you’d most likely get your nuts kicked in. He was fond of his nuts not getting kicked in.

“I did tell you that Torrin doesn’t always remember we aren’t a couple anymore.” Her gaze softened. “But I’m not saying I won’t ever tell him and the rest of the guys about us. I just don’t think they need to find out by catching me in here like I’m a teenager carousing with a motorcycle-riding rogue.”

A laugh roared out of Kole. “A rogue?”

“It’s a good word to describe you.”

He rubbed his jaw. “Maybe.”

“See you downstairs in a few for breakfast?” She gave his shoulder a little shove then headed for the door.

He gestured to the bed where the blankets were in total disarray. “We had breakfast.”

“I’m still... hungry.” Her blue eyes flared with light on the word hungry.

Gods, she’s beautiful.

She opened the door and poked her head out. “Fifteen minutes. Don’t keep me waiting.” She slipped into the hall, closing the door behind her.

In the quiet of his room, Kole inhaled, relishing Emma’s scent that lingered. How had he thought he could get on his bike and leave her? The notion was ridiculous. Luckily, by some twist of Fate, she’d forgiven him for turning her and allowed him to worship her body. She’d agreed to be his soul mate. She’d pleasured him in ways he’d never forget and always crave.

With thoughts of Emma bouncing around in his head, Kole showered and put on fresh jeans and a long-sleeved black T-shirt. He tidied the bed area, hoping he could convince Emma to visit there again. Soon.

When he got downstairs to the dining room, the male members of Hendrake were seated around a table with Gran. They stopped their conversation when he entered and Gran and two of the three males offered him big, welcoming smiles.

Torrin tossed him a glare instead. The dude definitely knew something was up.

“Did you find Emma?” Kole asked as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Find Emma?” Gran stood. “Why? Is Emma lost?”

“No, Gran,” Blaithin said. “She’s around somewhere, I’m sure.”

“Probably hard at work in some quiet spot she found,” Flynn added. “You know how driven she is.”

Gran nodded, but worry still clouded her eyes. Until Emma bounced into the dining room wearing a pair of black pants and a long, flowing purple shirt. The first few buttons were undone, giving Kole—and every other male in the room—a peek at her cleavage. Her feet were bare.

“Where are your shoes, child?” Gran asked as she rounded the table and gathered Emma in a hug.

Emma dropped a kiss on her grandmother’s cheek, but her eyes never left Kole. If she was still concerned about the guys finding out about them being together, she’d be the one to blow the whistle on that.

He couldn’t help the smirk that turned up his lips. Her attraction to him was as strong as his attraction to her. It was a force they couldn’t fight. One he certainly didn’t want to.

“I write better songs barefoot,” Emma announced.

That may have been true, but Kole had a feeling the wolf now residing in her didn’t want her to wear shoes. His wolf often felt that way about clothes. Fortunately, he’d learned to quiet that wolf when he had to remain in human form.

Kole rubbed his forehead, but the headache that should have been there... wasn’t. In fact, his ever-present human form headache had disappeared somewhere during his time with Emma.

Soul mates aren’t just good for the heart, wolf soldier.

Being with Emma had gotten rid of his headache? Gods, he wished he’d found her sooner.

“Where were you?” Torrin asked as he handed Emma a cup of coffee.

Kole bristled at the familiarity between them. A man who knew how a woman liked her coffee knew many things about that woman.

“In my room.” Emma accepted the cup and took a long drink. “Perfect, Torrin. Thanks.” She beamed a smile at him, and Kole assumed she was being so chipper to distract Torrin from asking too many questions in front of everyone. Still, the urge to scoop her up and carry her back to his room was hard to ignore.

“I knocked on your door,” Torrin said. “You didn’t answer.”

Emma wandered over to the table and took Torrin’s seat. “I had my earbuds in while I was writing. Sorry. I didn’t hear you knock.” She looked at Gran. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever you want, dear.” Gran gestured to Kole. “You too, honey. What can I get you?”

“I’ll eat anything you put in front of me.” Deciding he didn’t care what Emma’s bandmates thought, Kole took the seat next to Emma. He expected her to shoo him away, but instead she put her hand on his thigh under the table and gave him a honey of a smile.

“Two orders of anything, please, Gran.” Emma held up two fingers and Gran scurried off to the kitchen.

“You must have written some good shit,” Flynn said.

“What makes you say that?” Emma didn’t move her hand from Kole’s thigh, but she looked at Flynn sitting on the other side of the table.

Blaithin raised his orange juice glass and angled it at her. “Because you appear to be in a good mood, Emmy Bear.” He glanced at Kole then back at Emma. “A very good mood.”

“I am in a good mood, my friend. I think I wrote some solid stuff.”

“Good,” Torrin said. “Maybe we can get cranking today then. Barnside Pub wants to schedule us for another gig while we’re in town.”

“Excellent.” Emma sipped her coffee, her fingers massaging Kole’s thigh now and heading dangerously close to his already rock-hard erection. This woman could do such things to him with a simple touch.

While Emma caught up with her bandmates, Kole’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He dug it out and swiped the screen to see Reardon’s number.

“Excuse me a minute,” he whispered to Emma.

He stepped into the foyer. “Hello?”

“Jaemus wants to know if Emma bit your dick off.” Reardon’s voice didn’t hold any of the authority it used to hold on the battlefield. His leader truly was a different man. More jovial and laid back. Had finding his soul mate changed him? Would the same happen to Kole? He could probably stand to do a little changing. Some softening.

“Tell Jaemus my dick is intact and feeling fine.”

Reardon chuckled. “Fine? I take it Emma has forgiven you then.”

“Aye.”

“And she accepts that she’s your soul mate?”

“She does, but she’s keeping mum about it with her bandmates for the time being. She has a history with one of them and doesn’t want to upset him while they’re trying to work on new material.”

“She can give hiding it a try, but usually the soul mate bond isn’t something that can stay under wraps,” Reardon said. “It’s an energy all its own, Kole.”

He’d already experienced that. She hadn’t stopped him sitting by her. She’d even touched him as soon as he’d been in range. He figured she’d done it purposely, but maybe she hadn’t realized what she was doing. Maybe it was all soul mate instinct.

“I’ll respect her wishes and follow her lead for now.” It was the least he could do after biting her.

“Never thought you’d be following a lass’s lead, did you?”

“No. I only ever deigned to follow yours.”

“Aye, but those brutal times are over, cousin. You arrived in your current situation not by choice, but perhaps things are not so bad?” The hope in Reardon’s voice reached inside Kole. His cousin was still looking for forgiveness too.

“Things are not so bad.”

“Good. And I have more proof that things are not so bad.”

“Proof?”

“Aye. A possible lead. On Shawn.”

****

Emma knew Kole was in the foyer, but even that small distance between them was too much.

What the hell?

She’d never been a huge touchy-feely lass. She liked her space. She preferred snuggling up to her fiddles over cuddling with actual people.

But Kole? Well, this was a whole new situation. She basically wanted to spray paint herself onto his body and go wherever he was going. She physically ached to be near him.

This soul mate shit was going to be tough to hide. Maybe she should risk it and tell the guys right now. She studied the three of them. Blaithin and Flynn were concentrating on which one of them was going to finish cleaning his breakfast plate first. Gran’s cooking had totally distracted them.

Torrin, however, was another story. His green eyes lasered into her as if his stare alone could unravel all her secrets.

It probably could.

They’d known each other since they were in high school band together, same as Flynn and Blaithin, but Torrin and Emma both took extra lessons with their band teacher after school on Tuesdays. That bonus time together had allowed them to spark up an easy friendship. A friendship that sometimes dabbled in more than friendship, but always swung back to platonic. Granted, Emma was usually the one that swung it back that way, but Torrin didn’t usually fight her on it.

Until recently.

There had been more instances of him reminding her how, once the band got noticed, they’d be good together. They’d be on the road all the time and relationships could be tough to have—unless they had one with each other.

She couldn’t deny he had a point, but a relationship needed to be built around more than that. Especially now that she knew about soul mates and had apparently found hers. And wasn’t it just fabulous that her soul mate had broad shoulders, dark stubble, and eyes a girl could stare into for eons?

Sometimes being Emma Rhodes, werewolf fiddler, was damn great.

Maybe Hendrake should change the vampire personas to werewolves. She’d have to give that more consideration later. Right now, all she could think about was if Kole didn’t come back to the table soon, she was going to make a fool of herself and go hunting for him. Just so she could touch him.

Were werewolves supposed to be this lovesick puppish? She had to get a grip.

“Here we are.” Gran came out of the kitchen toting a tray heaped with food. “A little bit of everything for Emma and Kole.” She set the tray on the table and scanned the room. “Where did Kole go?”

“He had to take a phone call.” Emma sniffed the bacon-scented air and salivated. She reached across the table to grab her plate. “No sense in mine getting cold.”

Temporarily distracted by the amazing food in front of her, Emma didn’t hear Kole approach until he put his hand on the back of her chair. She immediately wanted that hand on her, but she shoved some eggs into her mouth to stop herself from asking for that.

“I have to go,” he said.

“Go?” She turned to face him, still chewing, and realized he’d made his departure announcement appear to be for the entire group, but she’d made it personal to her. Smooth, Emma. Real smooth. She wasn’t going to be able to hide what Kole was to her for long. It’d probably be common knowledge by lunchtime.

He gave her a small smile that lit her up inside and told her he knew what she’d been thinking. “Aye. My cousin has something to show me.”

“Have a bite to eat first, lad.” Gran gestured to the plate she’d made him.

Kole sat beside Emma and proceeded to inhale the mound of food. Emma surprised herself by doing the same. She never ate like that. Most of the time, her appetite was non-existent. She often forgot to eat when she was working on her music, but this morning she was ravenous. Did being a werewolf require more food? Had she used up too much energy both pleasuring Kole and receiving pleasure from him? Would she want to run through the woods and hunt down her own meaty dinners? Would it be all carnivore all the time?

A quiet chuckle beside her made her turn to look at Kole. He gave her a sideways glance before taking a swig of the orange juice Gran had poured him.

“You will crave more meat,” he whispered, “but there’s no need to hunt it yourself, Beauty.”

She elbowed him and finished her breakfast. When they were both done, Gran took their plates and bustled off to the kitchen.

“Lads. Emma.” Kole nodded at them. “I must be off.” He rose and headed for the foyer.

Emma looked at her bandmates. “I’ll... be right back.” She jogged after Kole and caught him before he left. “Should I come with you? You know, to ask Reardon about stuff.”

Kole stepped closer and his scent swirled around her. A low purring growl vibrated in her throat, surprising her and apparently delighting Kole who dropped a kiss on her forehead.

“As much as I’d love to have you with me, I think you should work with your band. Don’t want them thinking you’re slacking in your mission.” He ran a finger along her pouted lips. “I’ll come back for you later and we can ask Reardon all the questions we want, aye?”

Slowly she nodded, not loving the prospect of being away from Kole for an entire day.

“What does Reardon want you for?” she asked.

A crinkle formed between Kole’s dark brows. “My brother, Shawn, is...” He appeared to struggle for the right word. “Missing. I’m trying to locate him. I’ve been searching for a while with no luck, but Reardon thinks he has some information.”

“I hope your brother is okay.”

“Aye, me too. I miss him.” He folded her into a quick hug and gave her one more kiss before disappearing out the door. A moment later, his motorcycle roared to life outside.

“You like him.”

She whirled around to find Blaithin leaning against the stair railing, studying her. Glancing back toward the dining room, she wondered if Flynn and Torrin were still in there.

“They went out to the back porch to wait for us,” Blaithin said.

“How long were you standing there?” Had he seen her exchange with Kole? Did he know they’d been together?

“Long enough to watch you gaze longingly at the door after Kole left.” He gave her a teasing grin. “It’s okay, you know.” He took a step closer and rested his hands on her shoulders. “No one works harder than you do to launch this band, Emmy Bear. You’re allowed to take a few minutes off to pursue a social life.”

“A few minutes? That’s all I get?”

He pointed at her. “Aye, so you better make them count.” He backed up and climbed the first step. “Let’s get our stuff and work hard now so you can play later.”

“What about you?” She followed him up the stairs. “I never see you playing.”

He stopped at his door and scratched at his spiked silver hair which Emma knew to really be a white-blond. “Haven’t found anyone I want to play with yet, but once Hendrake makes it big, I’m sure I’ll have plenty of lasses to choose from.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making Emma laugh.

“You’ll have to beat them off with your bagpipes.”

“And I hope you’ll give me a nudge when the right one comes along. Like I’m nudging you now.”

Emma leaned against her door. “You really think Kole is the right one?” She definitely thought so after what they’d shared this morning, but having Blaithin confirm it would ensure she wasn’t acting rashly. Though it seemed this soul mate thing gave her no choice but to act rashly.

“I’ve never seen you light up like you do in his presence,” Blathin said. “That has to mean something, right?” He unlocked his door. “See you on the porch in five. Don’t be late.”

She entered her room and leaned against the door after she closed it. Lit up was exactly how she felt around Kole. She prided herself on being singularly focused on Hendrake. How in the world had Kole inserted himself? She had to honestly admit that even before he’d bitten her, she’d been attracted to him. Breaking her fiddle should have been enough for her to dismiss him completely, but she hadn’t. Turning her into a werewolf without consent certainly was reason to hate him, but she didn’t.

In fact, she had quite another emotion for him boiling inside her.

Grabbing her fiddle and her notebook, Emma put her mind on the work she had to do. She had bandmates depending on her. She had goals to meet. Now wasn’t the time to be daydreaming about Kole McMannus.

Out on the porch, the guys tuned their instruments. Flynn had brought down a single hand drum to practice with. He had a knack for being able to layer in the full drum set and kick any songs they wrote up to the rock and roll level. Torrin had his electric guitar plugged into his amp, and Blaithin’s bagpipes wailed as he adjusted them. His tin whistle was on the porch railing beside him.

All three of them raised eyebrows at her as she came to stand in the middle of their circle, fiddle in hand.

“So what have you got?” Torrin asked.

Right. I’m supposed to have a song. Too bad she’d been using her mouth to suck Kole to orgasm this morning instead of singing lyrics.

She opened her notebook to the song inspired by Kole’s eyes. She wasn’t ready to share it, but she had nothing else.

“I was toying around with this.” She put the bow to her fiddle and closed her eyes. The music came to her and she started sliding along the strings. Slow, bold strokes that made her fiddle—even one that wasn’t the fiddle Grandad gave her—sing confidently.

Blaithin added in his pipes as Flynn beat out a light, steady tempo on his drum. Torrin’s guitar let loose something long and mournful that pulled all the instruments together.

After a few moments of just instruments, Emma sang.

Trapped in a sea of blue,
tangled up in all of you,

I try to look away and hide,
but your eyes know me inside.

I get lost, forget my dreams.

Nothing is as it seems.

I can’t explain what I feel.

Is any of it even real?

I fight the light that reels me in.

We have to end, we can’t begin
something that will never last.

Bury it now, bury it in the past.

When the moon rises in the night,

I’ll not be here, I’ll not fight.

It only takes one kiss to change my mind,

I can’t leave you, leave us behind.

Trapped in a sea of blue,
tangled up in all of you,

I try to look away and hide,
but your eyes know me inside.

That was as far as she’d gotten with the lyrics, but when she stopped singing, the guys put down their instruments and stared at her.

“That bad?” Maybe they didn’t like the song, but the words felt right to her. Kole definitely had her tangled up in all of him.

“Bad?” Flynn raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “Are you kidding me? That was phenomenal, Emma.”

Blaithin and Torrin nodded their agreement.

“You guys liked it?”

“Aye,” Torrin said. “It’s... emotional. More so than our other songs, which are kind of fun, you know?”

“I agree.” Blaithin shifted in his seat, his pipes letting out a groan in his lap. “You think it’s tragic, but it ends with hope. I love it.”

Torrin jostled Emma’s shoulder. “Nice work. What made you write it?”

She and Torrin were always talking about the inspiration for their lyrics. They both wrote songs for Hendrake so it wasn’t odd that he’d asked her that question. What would be odd was if she didn’t answer.

“I saw something that was a dazzling shade of blue.” She shrugged as if it wasn’t that important. “The color stuck with me.”

Her gaze coasted over to Blaithin who gave her a wink. He totally knew what was a dazzling shade of blue. She’d beat him to death if he revealed her muse right now. Being a werewolf, she might actually succeed in beating him to death.

Slowly, Blaithin ran his fingers across his lips as if to zip them closed, but he winked at her again.

“Okay,” Flynn said. “So that song stays as is. Give me a few minutes to get the musical arrangement on paper.” He sifted through the folder where he kept blank sheets of paper and rustled out a pencil from his pocket. His red head bent, he scribbled on the paper like a man possessed.

“Got anything else?” Torrin asked her.

“That’s it so far. What about you?” As fellow lyricist, shouldn’t he have something to contribute? She shouldn’t be doing all the work, dammit.

Torrin dug into the back pocket of his shorts. He held up a paper triumphantly then tossed it at her.

When Emma caught it, she realized it wasn’t a paper at all, but a napkin from the Barnside Pub.

“Did you write this last night?” She unfolded the scrap and flattened it against her thigh.

“Aye.” He strummed a few notes on his guitar, humming along then singing the words on the napkin Emma still held.

Old friends can be new.

It’s all a matter of view.

Open your heart.

We could be a work of art.

If you’ll let us,
if you’ll let us.

You hold the key.

It’s not too late to see
what happens at the door
where friends turn into more.

If you’ll let us,
if you’ll let us.

Torrin’s head was bent over his guitar, which was good. Emma could only imagine what her expression was at the moment. Shocked. Uncomfortable. Sympathetic. Honored. They all played a factor in the way Torrin’s lyrics hit her. No mistaking what—or who—his muse was.

“Wow.” Flynn twirled his pencil like a drumstick. “Vermont is doing it for you two. Great song, Torrin.”

Blaithin chimed in with his positive opinion too, but Emma couldn’t say anything.

Not without hurting Torrin. Not without revealing she was now a werewolf and had met her soul mate.

Chapter Eight

“Shouldn’t he be healing if it’s Shawn?” Kole drummed his fingers on the edge of the counter in Silver Moon’s clinic.

Brandy shook her head. “If his injuries are extensive, it might take some time. Reardon was shot last summer and his healing wasn’t instantaneous.”

“Neither was mine.” Jaemus rubbed a hand at the center of his chest as if remembering something extremely painful. “In fact, I checked out completely.”

Kole raised his eyebrows at his cousin. “You died?”

“Aye, but Flidae showed mercy. She let him come back.” Reardon clamped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Lucky for us.”

Kole hadn’t realized how powerful the goddess was until he heard that. He hoped she was watching over Shawn now. Brandy had received news about an oversized, injured wolf in Rhode Island. The wolf in question was at Roger Williams Park Zoo currently, but personnel there contacted Brandy in search of her expertise. Apparently the wolf had been found by a couple of mountain bikers. The police had been called first, followed by animal control who then brought the wolf to the zoo. Right now the wolf was said to be sedated, but no one was quite sure what to do for it. Hence, the call to Brandy was made.

“I’m heading down there to take a look. It should be easy for me to recommend transporting the wolf back here to the sanctuary. It doesn’t sound as if they have the capability to take care of it anyway. And if it is Shawn, we definitely don’t want them poking around him and discovering he’s much more than a simple wolf.” Brandy moved around her clinic, piling instruments into a large case.

“I’m going with you,” Kole said.

She stopped in front of him. “Yeah, I figured that.”

“You’re not going to fight me on this?”

“What purpose would that serve?” She dropped a few more things into her case. “I could use a hand and my partner, Dr. Daniels, is taking a much needed vacation with his woman, so he can’t go. Reardon and Jaemus are in the middle of a big construction job in Danton, so they don’t have a moment to spare for a four-hour drive down to Rhode Island and a four-hour drive back.”

“Plus, I’m doing the Wolfman Show at Nika’s post every day at 1:00.” Jaemus bared his teeth and wiggled his fingers as if they sported claws.

“So I’m your last pick, Brandy.” Kole folded his arms across his chest, but was only teasing her.

“Yes,” Brandy said back, her tone equally teasing. “Deal with it.” She gave him a little shove.

Reardon stepped up to Brandy. “Fairy lass, Jaemus and I have to get going. Call me with any news. Otherwise, I’ll see you tonight.” He pressed a kiss to her lips that instantly made Kole miss Emma though he’d only left her a half hour ago. The kiss quickly turned heated and Kole wasn’t sure where to look.

“It doesn’t wear off.” Jaemus came to stand next to Kole.

“What doesn’t?”

“The attraction. In fact, I think it intensifies each day. These two have been married for months and they can’t keep their hands off each other. Same for me and Nika. Right now, there’s a huge part of me that wishes I were back in bed, curled up next to her.”

Kole had a difficult time picturing Reardon, leader of a legendary army, and Jaemus, second-in-command, snuggled up to anyone. And yet, wasn’t he wishing for the same thing? Leaving Emma back at the inn had been much harder than it should have been.

When Reardon and Brandy finally stopped kissing, both of them looked a little dazed, but Reardon managed to walk away from his wife. He slapped Kole on the back as he passed.

“I hope it is Shawn and we can bring him home.”

Kole turned to watch Reardon and Jaemus leave the clinic. The word home echoed in his head. What did home mean now? Here? This time? Or Ireland of the past?

Not having any immediate answers to those questions, Kole turned his attention to Brandy. “What can I do to help?”

“You can take this case to my SUV.” She pointed to the case that was now zipped closed. “I want to grab a few more things, make sure my mom can watch Dylan after school until Reardon gets home from work, and then we’ll be off.”

Kole hoisted up the case and made his way to the door. Turning, he said, “Thank you, Brandy.”

“Hey, I’ll do anything for wolves of all kinds.” Brandy slipped on a sweatshirt similar to the one Emma had worn. “Speaking of wolves, how did everything go with Emma?”

“I think she wanted to kill me at first,” Kole said, “but I convinced her not to.”

“Hmm, you Celtic warrior werewolves can be very persuasive.” Brandy winked. “So she accepts being your soul mate?”

“I believe so.” Her lovemaking suggested she did.

“Good.”

“She’s got questions though. Ones maybe Reardon can answer.”

“He can try, but honestly, he didn’t get the full werewolf education either. From what Reardon has told me, he got sick, his father showed up, took him to some other werewolves where he turned for the first time, and then his father was gone. He formed his army shortly after that. Anything he knows about being a werewolf, he’s learned along the way.”

“Like the rest of us.”

“Yup, but I think that’s part of the fun.”

Maybe he and Emma wouldn’t get all the answers they sought, but they could help each other figure out things. Werewolf things. And they were certainly having fun.

Suddenly he had to see her before they left for Rhode Island.

“I’ll load this case,” he held it up and wiggled it, “but do I have time to—”

“Run to the inn and kiss Emma goodbye once more?” Brandy laughed when he closed his eyes. “Werewolves are constantly in each other’s heads, Kole. You know this.”

“Yeah, but I’m not used to being around female werewolves who appear to be more in tune with the emotional stuff.”

“Messy, isn’t it?” She wrinkled her nose then smiled. “Go. Smooch your pooch. Then get your ass back here so we can get that wolf. Whether it is Shawn or not, it needs our help.”

“Aye.” But gods, he hoped it was his brother. He also hoped the injuries weren’t as terrible as they sounded like they might be.

He jogged outside, dumped the case in Brandy’s SUV, and bolted for his bike. At the same time, Meredith, Dylan, and a girl with long blonde hair were walking toward Meredith’s car. Dylan and the girl ran over.

“Hey, Kole.” Dylan gave him a wave then arrowed a thumb at the girl. “This is Kylie Narsdette. She’s in my class.”

“Hi.” The girl had freckles across a small, pixie nose, but the most striking thing about her was her huge brown eyes. They dominated her triangular face and held a boatload of sadness.

Kole wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he was certain. Despite her friendly greeting and her slight smile, this little one was not happy.

“Hello, lass,” he said. “What are you doing hanging around with the likes of this lad?”

Dylan put his hands on his hips, but the girl giggled and something broke open inside Kole. Something that told him part of his mission in life was to make Kylie Narsdette laugh.

“Dylan’s cool,” she said in a voice like a songbird’s.

“Yeah.” Dylan puffed out his chest. “I’m. Cool.”

“Depends on your definition of cool.” He pulled the bill of Dylan’s baseball cap down and Kylie laughed again, her eyes brightening a bit before going back to solemn.

What was this lass that Kole should feel such a drive to lighten her mood? Maybe werewolves weren’t the only strange creatures out there. Maybe pixies were real too.

She’s a troubled one, wolf soldier, Flidae informed him. Maybe you’ve found a purpose for yourself.

In this girl? Kole eyed her as she eyed him right back until Meredith called the two children to “let Kole be on his way.”

“See ya.” Dylan turned to Kylie. “C’mon. I think we can convince Gram to get us muffins at Rosie’s Diner before dropping us at school.”

He ran off toward Meredith’s car, but Kylie stood a minute more in front of Kole. “I like your motorcycle,” she said quietly.

“I’ll give you a ride when I’m not in such a hurry.” Kole had no idea where that statement had come from. Certainly not his lips. It didn’t sound like something he’d ever say. He didn’t tend to mix with children, let alone offer them rides on his precious bike.

Kylie’s smile widened. “I’d love a ride.” Then she was off, chasing after Dylan, her long hair streaming behind her. She paused at the car door to look at Kole again before disappearing into the vehicle’s back seat.

Shaking his head, Kole started his engine and blew out of the sanctuary back to Deer Creek Inn. When he approached the inn, music coming from the back diverted him from his front door course. Instead, he went around back and listened for a moment as Hendrake practiced. The instruments, not as loud as they had been at the pub the other night, blended together beautifully and then Torrin sang. When Emma joined in, their voices created a moving harmony. He could have listened for an eternity, but Shawn—if it was indeed him—was waiting.

Emma stopped singing when she saw him and offered him a smile. “Back already?”

“Not exactly.”

She frowned then turned back to the rest of the band. “Give me a minute.”

“Take two,” Flynn said. “You’ve been working hard.”

Blaithin laughed, but Torrin gave Kole narrowed eyes as if to berate him for interrupting.

Emma hopped down the steps and tugged Kole toward a garden with spring flowers beginning to green and bud. They were out of view of the porch... and Torrin. “Explain not exactly.”

“First of all...” he leaned forward and kissed her until her body slumped against his.

She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned back a little. “I’m dying to know what your second-of-all is.” Her smile was the sun to him. For a second Kylie popped into his mind again, and he had this overwhelming need for Emma to meet the girl.

But I don’t even like wee ones. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. Aside from Dylan, whom he’d only just met, Kole didn’t know any children. Being a soldier in Reardon’s army hadn’t allowed for finding oneself in the company of youngsters. The life he led now—one where he roamed, searching for Shawn—didn’t lend itself to children either.

“You’re not going to like my second-of-all, Beauty.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her, hoping to take her scent on the road with him.

“Damn.” She backed up. “You’re going somewhere.”

He nodded. “Brandy got word of an injured wolf in Rhode Island. It could be Shawn. We’re going there today.”

Emma blinked at him for a few silent seconds. “Your brother is a werewolf too?”

“Aye. Shawn was turned involuntarily too, like me.” He met her gaze. “Like you. I know one other werewolf too. With the exception of Reardon and Brandy, the rest of us got turned at the same time.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to remember that fateful night. “I’ll tell you that story later. Brandy is waiting for me. I just came to say goodbye to you.”

That made Emma’s wonderful mouth turn up in a smile. “You came back here to say goodbye to me? Aren’t you a sweetheart?”

“No. Actually, I’m not, but you have this ability to make me do crazy things such as be sweet and romantic.”

Her laugh filled him and he wanted to cart her upstairs to his room for a proper goodbye. Alas, there was no time.

“Will you be back tonight?” she asked.

“As if I could stay away any longer.”

With another kiss that promised untamed things for later, Kole set off to get his brother.

****

Kole’s motorcycle churned up dust in the inn’s parking lot as he left. Damn, he was one sexy werewolf, riding that bike in his black leather jacket. His muscled legs straddled the machine with confidence and Emma desperately wanted a ride. Imagining her body pressed up against his, her arms secured around his waist, and the vibration of the motorcycle caused her to get wet.

Shit.

How the hell was she going to make it all day without seeing him? What if he didn’t get back tonight? What if—gasp—he had to stay in Rhode Island overnight? She might have to drive down there to be with him if that was the case.

Which was ridiculous. She barely knew the man, but on every inhale she thought of Kole. On every exhale she thought of Kole. Hell, even if she held her breath, she thought of Kole. He’d possessed her.

Normally, that sort of thing would piss her off. She’d been independent for a while now. She didn’t need anything from her parents or brothers. She never bothered Gran for anything except a few rooms during their current stay and even those she’d fully intended to pay for.

But this thing with Kole was all-consuming. She did need him. Desperately. The bond between them was magnetic. She was certain she should be way more freaked out about being turned into a werewolf, for crying out loud. She could change into a damn wolf! Something about Kole eased her mind about the whole deal even though he was the one who had turned her.

None of this made sense, but Emma wasn’t going to perseverate over it. She felt good. Actually, she felt great. She was a firm believer if you felt good, you were good.

With an all over body shake, she forced herself to march to the back porch. The guys were in a heated debate over doing a bagpipe or guitar intro for the song Torrin had written. It, of course, should be a fiddle intro, but she didn’t say so. Instead, she picked up her fiddle and prepared to wait them out.

They stopped talking and blinked at her. Finally, Blaithin asked, “Kole left?”

“Aye.”

“So you’re staying?” Flynn asked.

“Of course. We’re making music here, kids.” She shot them all a smile.

Blaithin and Flynn smiled back, but Torrin glowered at her.

“You don’t like him, Torrin. I know,” she said without looking up from tuning the strings on her fiddle.

“He came out of nowhere, Emma.” Torrin set his guitar down and came to stand in front of her. “I don’t understand this instant infatuation with him.”

“Have you looked at him, Torrin?” Blaithin mumbled. “He’s quite a bit more attractive than the lot of us.” He gestured to Flynn and Torrin then himself.

Emma reminded herself to be nice. Catch more flies with honey. “You don’t need to understand what I feel, Torrin. It’s between me and Kole.”

“You and Kole? You and Kole?” Torrin raked his hands through his wild hair. “A day ago, there was no you and Kole.”

“I know. And now there is.” She stared at him, something a little wild growling inside her head. It took a moment to realize her wolf was rising to the surface as it grew impatient with Torrin. Hadn’t Kole said werewolves were impatient? He hadn’t been kidding. “Look, we’re here to compose and practice and create something that will kick us up into the big time. Let’s not lose our focus.”

“I’m not the one cavorting with Biker Dude.”

Emma’s jaws tightened as her body tingled. Kole said they could control the wolf, but did that take practice? Would a brand new werewolf have the resolve and skill to keep the wolf contained? Right now, she was afraid of shifting in front of the guys if Torrin poked her once more. Afraid of maybe physically hurting Torrin. She’d never forgive herself if she did that.

“I can cavort and compose. I’m a woman. I can multitask.” She arrowed a glare at Torrin’s guitar. “Now pick that up and let’s do this.”

Blaithin and Flynn immediately picked up their instruments, looking ready for her next command.

Good humans.

Torrin, on the other hand, stood for another few moments in front of her. Emotions flashed across his face, none of which Emma wanted to recognize or be responsible for. With a huff, he yanked his guitar off its stand and shouldered the strap.

“I’m just looking out for you,” he said quietly.

That softened Emma’s annoyance. “I know, honey, but I can take care of me, aye?”

Torrin nodded once, but his eyes said he didn’t agree. Maybe he was right. She was acting like an addict when it came to Kole. She craved him. It did seem crazy to have such intense feelings for someone after so short a time.

Then again, maybe things were different for werewolves. A fact she couldn’t share with the guys, which was also a new experience. Generally speaking, the members of Hendrake didn’t keep secrets. They knew each other’s business and were more family than a mere band of musicians. Emma was definitely closer to Blaithin and Flynn than she was to her actual brothers.

And Torrin? Well, she knew him intimately. She also knew they didn’t have the chemistry she wanted. The chemistry that did exist between Kole and her.

“Daylight’s burning,” Blaithin said. “Let’s do Torrin’s song again with a guitar intro.”

Torrin raised an eyebrow at Blaithin. “You’re letting me win?”

“I’m letting you try the guitar intro. Then we’ll try the bagpipe intro and go with the bagpipes.” He shook his head and held up an index finger. “I mean, we’ll go with whatever sounds best.”

Flynn beat out a rhythm on his single drum as he sang, “Maybe Emma’s fiddle will sound best as the intro.”

Blaithin grumbled. “Fine. We’ll try all three, then decide.”

With that ironed out, they played until Gran stepped out of the house and onto the porch with the cordless phone in her hand.

“Emma, there’s a Nika Skarvinski on the phone for you.”

Nika? Jaemus’s Nika? Emma put her fiddle down. How many Nika Skarvinski’s could there be in Vermont? Was it about Kole? Had something happened? Instantly, Emma’s heartbeat kicked up into the drum solo range.

She took the phone from Gran. “Hello?”

“Emma?”

“Aye. Is everything all right?” With everyone staring at her on the porch, she couldn’t ask any specific questions.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you by calling. The reason for my call is musical, not... wolfical.” She let out a little laugh and Emma immediately relaxed.

“I can help in musical matters.” Wolf ones were another story. Being one for only a day didn’t make her an expert by any means.

“Okay, so there is this gala tomorrow night for Canville Children’s Home, an orphanage in town. Every year we throw this big shindig to raise money that keeps the home afloat. The gala is a huge deal to the children. Without it, the home wouldn’t be able to stay open and these kids would have nowhere to go.”

Emma’s chest tightened. Her parents didn’t understand her, but they’d done what they could. To have grown up with no parents at all... well, that was tragic.

“Part of the night,” Nika continued, “is a concert. My friend at Barnside Pub was supposed to supply the music for the night, but the band she hired can’t play. The lead singer’s father passed away suddenly and another singer lost his voice due to allergies. So... I was wondering if Hendrake wanted to pick up the gig. You guys were fabulous last night. You all have such talent. You will have to tone it down a few notches because there will be children and other folks that don’t appreciate a blow-the-roof-off, we-might-suck-your-blood kind of concert, but the pay is good. So is the cause.”

Emma nodded yes, but she had to check with the guys. “Let me talk to the rest of the band and I’ll call you right back. Would that be okay?”

“Sure, but let me know super soon. If you guys can’t, I have to scramble for another solution. Right now, Hendrake is my only solution.”

“Aye, like ten minutes and I’ll have an answer for you.”

Emma hung up and turned to the curious stares of the guys and Gran. “I have an opportunity for us.”

“Let’s hear it,” Blaithin said.

She gave them the details. When she was done, Gran said, “I’ve gone to that home and taught some of the girls to knit. Such lovely children, the poor dears. Most of them have lost their parents to something tragic. Your hearts would break hearing their tales.” She shook her head.

Emma stepped over to Gran and folded her into an embrace. “So you definitely think we should play at the gala?”

Gran sniffed and nodded. “The poor dears.”

“I’m for it,” Blaitin said. “I brought some hats. I can tone down the silver spikes so as not to scare the little lads and lasses.” He flattened his palm on top of his spikes and pretended to pull his hand away in pain.

Emma turned her attention to Flynn and Torrin who had yet to speak up.

“While I love any chance to play,” Torrin said, “I don’t like the idea of changing up our image. Our brand is Celtic vampire. Our sound and songs are a little on the scary side. It’s what we do.”

“I agree,” Flynn said. “We’ve worked hard on our image and sound.”

“And yet,” Blaithin said, “while in Vermont, Emma and Torrin both wrote new songs that are tamer than what we usually play, more emotionally charged. Why can’t we change up some of our other songs for the children? Maybe it’s what we’re supposed to do.”

I’ve always liked you best, Blaithin.

Torrin chewed on his bottom lip and stared a hole into her chest.

“C’mon, Torrin.” She looked at Flynn too. “One day, when Hendrake is a huge sensation, we can stand up for our principles. Nika is offering us money and further exposure. All we have to do is play the game. Give the customer what she wants.” She wasn’t so proud, so high and mighty, that she’d refuse a gig just because it meant altering their image and catering to a different audience than they really wanted.

A gig was a gig. No opportunity wasted.

Besides, as Gran said, the poor dears. Something about a bunch of family-less kids not having the party they were promised, or not getting the funds they needed, made Emma’s heart ache.

“It won’t take much to bring all our songs down a few levels. We could throw in a few Irish step dance tunes and Emma could teach the kids. I bet they’d love that.” Blaithin played a little ditty on his bagpipes and Emma envisioned the choreography to match. “For the kids, lads.”

“Fine,” Torrin said while Flynn nodded his agreement.

She glanced at all three of them. “So I’ll call Nika back and tell her we’ll be there?”

Three ayes sounded and Gran clapped. “A good deed is always returned, sweethearts. You’ll see.” She pointed at them. “Who needs some iced tea?”

While Gran scurried in to get them drinks, Emma wiggled the phone. “I’m going to call her inside and make sure I get all the details.”

“Great,” Flynn said. “We’ll be out here, adjusting all our songs apparently.”

Torrin let out a mumble, but Blaithin gave her one of his winks and she was more certain than ever that playing the gala was the right thing to do. She understood Torrin’s and Flynn’s reservations. They were right. Hendrake had worked hard creating a unique image and sound, but maybe this gig would show how versatile they were. Bottom line, any money they made gave them the opportunity to spend time writing new material.

And who could predict which new song would be the one to put Hendrake on the map? The more songs they wrote, the more raffle tickets they had in the bowl of fame and fortune. She knew when she got into this music business it was about luck as much as talent.

Talent they had. Luck they needed.

“Hello?” Nika answered on the first ring.

“We’re in.” Emma had to hold the phone away from her ear as Nika screeched.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you. I didn’t have a Plan B.”

“Glad to be Plan A,” Emma said. “So where does this magical night take place?”

“Pine Peaks Marina over on Lake Rocquichaw. Do you know where that is?”

“Aye. My grandfather used to take me there when I was little. He had a small sailboat that he loved. I haven’t been there in ages though.” Since Grandad died.

“Well, they have a gorgeous hall overlooking the water and the marina donates it, free of charge, for the gala. Despite the fact that the children are invited,” Nika said, “the evening is fancy-schmancy. It’s the only fancy-schmancy these kids get, so we go all out.”

“Got it. I’ll make sure my Hendrake lads look presentable.” Which was going to take all day tomorrow most likely. And what was she going to wear?

“Honey, if I can make Jaemus look tame, you can make three human males look like angels.” Nika laughed. “And bring Kole too. You shouldn’t miss the opportunity to see him dressed up.”

They discussed a few more details then hung up. Emma drummed her fingers on the kitchen table as she stared at the phone.

And bring Kole too.

He was handsome in jeans and a leather jacket. He was super sexy naked. He’d no doubt be lethal dressed up.

Emma couldn’t wait to find out.

Chapter Nine

Kole stared at the gray wolf resting on its side behind the bars of a zoo enclosure. Brandy had made it to Rhode Island in record time and was now on her hands and knees by the creature. A creature that was not Shawn. His brother was a light brown color and though this wolf was large, it wasn’t half the size Shawn was. When Kole listened in, the only thing circling around in this wolf’s head was how much pain it was in.

This wolf was just a wolf.

Kole wrapped his hands around the bars of the enclosure and sifted out a breath. He had put all his hope into this wolf being Shawn. The disappointment hit him square in the chest, hard.

Where the hell is he, Flidae? Why did the goddess only intrude on his thoughts when she felt like it, not when he needed her? Because she’s making me suffer. Her banishment was supposed to hurt. Ripped from their homes. Scattered from their brothers in battle. Kole was supposed to feel alone.

A mere thought of Emma, however, dispelled that melancholy. Conjuring up an image of her lovely face did much to soothe his aching heart. He still missed Shawn and would continue his hunt for his brother, but Emma kept the hopelessness at bay. With her by his side, he had the strength to believe he would be reunited with Shawn. Soon.

Brandy tended to the wolf’s injuries, which were many. She’d mentioned broken ribs, mangled hind leg, and possible skull fracture. Gods be damned, what had happened to the poor thing? Unfortunately it didn’t have healing abilities to help it along.

“Is there anything I can do to assist?” he asked through the bars.

Brandy turned sympathetic eyes to him. Sorry it’s not Shawn. Her thoughts echoed in his head. “I’m going to sedate him so we can transport him to Silver Moon. I need the zoo to release him to me.” She waved a tablet at him. “Want to find someone to sign this for me?”

He stepped into the enclosure and took the tablet. “Sure thing.”

She grabbed his hand before he could leave. “We’ll keep looking, Kole.”

“I know. Thank you.”

He walked out of the enclosure and down to an official looking room where an older woman in a Roger Williams Park Zoo shirt stood over an open filing cabinet.

“Excuse me, Dr. McAlator needs someone to sign this release so we can take that injured wolf to Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary in Vermont.” He held up the tablet.

The woman waved him over. “Let’s see it.” She combed her gaze over the screen and nodded. Using her finger, she signed her name on the line. “I’m just glad someone can help the poor chap. He’s in tough shape.”

Which reminded Kole that Shawn could be somewhere in tough shape.

“If anyone can restore him to his former glory, it’s Dr. McAlator.” Kole took the tablet back.

“That’s why we called her. She’s got quite the reputation for taking care of wolves.”

Kole could understand that. She’d settled him down on several occasions. Having other werewolves around provided some much needed peace. His time with the Alaska pack had been a good substitute, but those wolves, like this gray one here today, lacked the depth that came from being both human and wolf. Being among Reardon, Jaemus, Brandy, and now Emma was starting to feel like family. Here. In this time. In this place. The only thing missing was Shawn.

He held up the tablet. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” The woman smiled. “Safe journey back to Vermont.”

He gave her a wave and found his way back to Brandy. “All set.”

“Good. I sedated him.” She motioned to two zookeepers standing by the wolf. “These fellows have offered to load this big guy into my SUV, so we’re good to go.”

That was the best news Kole had heard. The sooner they got back on the road, the sooner he could see Emma.

Brandy elbowed him as she strode out of the enclosure, the zookeepers hoisting up the wolf and toting it behind her. “You have it bad, don’t ya?”

He had to remember she could pop into his head.

Or I could remember to stay out of yours, but it’s fun witnessing new romance. I can’t help myself. I also think that the more werewolves we add to this... this pack, the more the connection—the being inside each others’ heads—grows.

She winked at him and led the zookeepers out of the building to her SUV. Once the wolf was loaded and the zookeepers thanked, they both climbed into the front seats. Before starting the SUV, Brandy turned to Kole.

“I get many wolf calls. Maybe the next one will be Shawn. Now I know he’s a light brown wolf. I should have asked that question upfront instead of dragging you down here and getting your hopes up.”

Kole squeezed her hand on the armrest. “Lass, it’s okay. I think maybe I needed this trip anyway. To think about some things.”

“I see.” Brandy grinned. “Been a little hard to think with Emma’s scent all up in your snout, huh?”

“A wee bit.”

Brandy started the SUV and rolled out of the parking space. “I only realized what Reardon was smelling around me after he turned me. I mean, I was super attracted to him the moment I met him in town before I knew he was the same wolf I’d been caring for at the sanctuary. He saved Dylan and me from getting squashed by a car, you know. That was enough to make me fall for him, but after I became a werewolf too, that whole soul mate thing was all-consuming. Still is.”

She increased her speed, and Kole could tell she wanted to get back to Vermont as much as he did.

“At first, I wanted to find Shawn and get back to Ireland. Our Ireland, but now...”

“This time ain’t so bad, is it?”

“No. And I hadn’t planned on Emma.” He hadn’t been the kind of man to choose one woman and want forever with her. His gorgeous, talented soul mate, however, was changing his mind.

“You two will figure out what works for you both.”

By the time they arrived back at the sanctuary, darkness had settled in the woods. Kole helped Brandy get the wolf into the clinic then found Reardon in the house.

“Come in.” Reardon ushered him into the living room where Dylan and Kylie were sitting in bean bag chairs facing the TV. A huge bowl of popcorn was between them. Something about the sight of the children made the room homier.

Kole was content to watch them for a few moments, but Kylie turned around and gave him a tentative smile before elbowing Dylan.

The lad flopped his head back on his bean bag chair and stared up at Kole, his face upside down. “Hey.”

“Evening.”

“Did you find what you wanted?” Dylan asked.

Kole shook his head.

“That’s too bad.”

“Want some popcorn.” Kylie held up the bowl, and Kole got the distinct impression she was trying to cheer him up. Sweet pixie.

He reached down and grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Thanks, lass. What are you watching?”

“How to Train Your Dragon,” Dylan said on a sigh. “We’ve watched it a million times.”

“But it’s my favorite and I never get to watch what I want at the home.” Kylie turned her attention back to the screen where an animated boy on a black dragon sailed through the air.

The home? Not at home, but the home.

She lives at Canville Children’s Home, Reardon said in Kole’s mind. Her parents, two brothers, and grandparents were killed in a plane crash. A crash only she survived. Her whole family is gone.

Kole actually stumbled back a step at this news as he followed Reardon. No wonder the child’s eyes were so sad.

In the kitchen now, Reardon whispered, “She’s in Dylan’s class and they’re good buddies. Meredith likes to spring Kylie from the home every now and again. Mind you, the home is a nice place, but it isn’t a home home, aye?”

Kole nodded, a little too choked up to speak.

Reardon grabbed two sodas from the refrigerator and handed one to Kole. “She’s the nicest lass. Polite, smart, but her heart is definitely broken.”

“Do children get to leave the home? Do they find families?”

“Aye. Some of the younger ones do. As they get older, it gets tougher. Kylie’s eleven, like Dylan. Chances are she won’t get picked up.”

Kole wished Reardon would stop dumping such unfortunate information into the air. He didn’t want to think of that poor lass never finding happiness with a family who would love her.

“Brandy called and told me the wolf wasn’t Shawn.” Reardon rested a hand on Kole’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, cousin.”

He was sorry too, but now he couldn’t get his mind off Kylie out there in the living room, probably wishing every minute of every day that her family had not gotten on that plane. At least his missing brother was a grown man—with the added abilities of a werewolf. He could take care of himself.

But Kylie? Such a young lass. The world should not be so harsh to her.

“Hey.” Reardon gave him a little shake. “We’ll keep looking.”

“Aye. I know.” Needing something else to focus on, he said, “Can I bring Emma over? She has questions only you can answer. I do too, for that matter.”

“I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Brandy told me how you found out you were a werewolf. I understand you never got the full education either.”

Reardon shook his head. “Maybe that’s part of being a werewolf. The figuring out what it all entails as we go along.”

“Aye. It’s okay if you don’t have all the answers. I think there’s value in being around other wolves.”

“Agreed. I felt it when I landed here at this sanctuary. Brandy’s wolves embraced me as one of their own. It felt... right.” He smiled. “Of course, once I realized Brandy was my soul mate, and then when she was turned, everything became even righter.”

“And look at you now.” Kole gestured to the cozy home his cousin lived in.

“Never happier. I get to play husband and father—two things I thought I’d never be.”

Two things Kole never dreamed about either. Not until finding Emma.

“Go get your lass and we’ll have a chat, aye?”

Kole finished his soda. “Thanks.”

He followed Reardon back into the living room where Kylie and Dylan had shifted positions so their chests draped over the bean bag chairs and their legs stretched out on the floor behind them. Popcorn crunched every few seconds, but other than that, their attention was glued to the TV.

Until Kole had to step over their legs. Then Kylie rolled to her back and stared up at him with those bottomless, grief-filled, brown eyes.

“When can I have that motorcycle ride?” she asked quietly.

“Right now?” Kole glanced at Reardon. “Around the sanctuary?”

Reardon nodded. “Dylan, go get your dirtbike helmet for Kylie.”

The boy sprang to his feet, paused the movie, and raced up the stairs. He was back in two seconds with a neon orange helmet which he held out to his friend. “Here you go. Don’t make it all smell like a girl.”

Kylie took the helmet. “I smell better than you do.”

Kole barked out a laugh at her sass. Pixie for sure. “C’mon Dylan. I’ll give you a spin too.”

The boy looked to Reardon, asking permission, and Kole was struck again at how well his former army leader played the role of father.

“Go ahead. Hold on tight. Your mother will skin me alive if either of you come back with a scratch on you.” He narrowed his eyes at Kole. “Which, in turn, means she’ll skin you too.”

“Noted. Everyone hold on tight so no one gets skinned.”

Dylan and Kylie ran outside and Kole gave Reardon a wave. “I’ll send them back in when we’re done then get Emma.”

“See you soon.”

Kole followed the children to his bike where Dylan was bent by the wheel, inspecting it.

“You’ve driven this thing all the way from Alaska?” he asked.

“Aye. She’s served me well.”

“Is that where you live?” Kylie put on Dylan’s helmet and secured the chin strap. She was downright adorable with her long blond hair streaming out from under the helmet.

“I did. For a time. Now I’m traveling around.”

Kylie considered that for a few moments. “So you don’t have any family either?”

“Sure he does,” Dylan said before Kole could reply. “Reardon and Jaemus are his cousins. That’s why he stopped here in Vermont.”

“Oh.” Kylie’s shoulders slumped a little.

“My brother is missing though.” The words tumbled out of Kole’s mouth before he could stop them. “I’m searching for him.”

“I hope you find him. Families should be together.”

And little lasses should be smiling. All the time.

****

Emma and the guys had a super successful afternoon. They’d worked on new material and adjusted their old stuff to make it suitable for the children’s home gala tomorrow night. After putting their instruments away, Emma sent the men to town to find more appropriate clothing for a fancy event. None of them were happy about that task, but she knew they only had two kinds of clothes with them in Vermont—ratty, comfortable wear for being musically creative and dark, gothic wear for performing. Fancy wasn’t anything any of them had packed... or owned for that matter.

Currently, she was flipping through clothing in Gran’s closet. Fortunately, Gran was a woman who never threw anything away and she had a pretty good collection of formal wear. Emma’s grandfather had been a military man and Gran had escorted him to a number of fancy balls over the years. If she were going to find a dress, she’d definitely have better luck in this closet than she would in Canville. Somehow she doubted the little town sold anything fancier than flannel.

“Find anything, dear?” The top step creaked as Gran stepped on it. She paused for a moment, holding the railing, as if giving her knees a minute to rest.

“Go slow on the stairs, Gran.” Emma guided the woman into the walk-in closet and made her sit on the little bench in there.

“Oh, I’m fine, lass. Don’t be silly.” She waved Emma’s hands away. “Now what have you discovered here?”

Emma picked up the three dresses she’d been considering after viewing them all. One was a gorgeous red gown that went all the way to the floor and had sparkly shoulder straps. It screamed, Look at me! Another was a solid black A-line dress that flared out breezily and hung to the knees. It whispered, I’m classy.

The final dress was a purple sheath dress with a layer of darker purple lace covering it. Emma wasn’t sure what that one said, but she liked it.

“That one.” Gran pointed to the purple dress.

“It’s my favorite too.” Emma put down the other two and pulled the plastic off the purple dress.

Gran reached over and ran her fingers over the lace. “I wore this one when your grandfather earned a special commendation. He was such a hero. To everyone he met.” Gran closed her eyes for a minute as if transporting herself back to that time.

“You must miss him so much,” Emma said. Kole had only been gone a day and she was literally itching to see him. She hadn’t spent years and years married to the man either. She couldn’t imagine the vast storehouse of memories Gran had about Grandad.

Or how her heart must ache without him.

“I do. Every day.” Gran put her hand on her chest. “But he’s always here.” She grabbed Emma’s hand. “And I see him when I look at you and hear you play your fiddle and sing, honey. He would be so proud of what you’ve become.”

“A barely scraping by musician?”

Gran frowned. “An intelligent, creative, talented, sophisticated young woman.”

“If only the rest of the world knew it.” Emma sighed and began undressing.

“Kole seems to know it.”

Emma was facing the mirror in the closet and saw Gran’s little smile. A matching one was on her own face at the mention of Kole. “Aye. He sees something in me that he thinks is worth the trouble.”

“You see the same in him.”

“I do.” She turned to face Gran. “Is that crazy? I mean, I don’t know him, but I... I...”

“Want to know more,” Gran finished. “Nothing wrong with that, dear. Just keep your head about you and follow your heart. No evil can come of that.” She nudged the purple dress. “Now put this on and let me see how beautiful you are.”

Emma slipped on the dress and turned one way then the other to inspect herself in the mirror.

“Oh, my...” Gran got up and swept Emma’s hair up in a quick knot that bared her neck and shoulders. “Hold on a minute.” She ambled out of the closet and rustled around in her bedroom next door. When she returned, she held out a sliver, heart-shaped necklace and matching earrings. “Put these on.”

After Emma did so, Gran disappeared again and came back with a framed photo. She handed it to Emma.

“Wow, Gran, I look just like you. Practically identical.”

“I hope you are complimented by that.”

“Of course I am.”

The resemblance was uncanny. Sometimes Emma forgot that Gran used to have black hair like her. She’d become used to her silver hair she usually wore up in a twist to keep it out of her face. Gran wore glasses now too and looked like a... well, a gran.

In the picture Emma now held, however, Aideen Rhodes was a feisty young lass. Grandad stood next to her in the photograph, but his eyes weren’t on the photographer. No, they were trained on Gran and a slight smile graced his lips as if he were thinking about kissing her.

“You look amazing, Emma. That’s definitely the dress for you. You wear it well.” Gran gave her another look then gazed down at the picture again. “I seem to recall getting lucky in that dress after this event.”

“Gran!”

Gran chuckled as she went to put the picture away. “A dress is only as good as the fun you can have out of it as well.”

Emma shook her head as she examined herself again in the mirror. Some of the things that came out of Gran’s mouth. Honestly.

She couldn’t help thinking, however, that Kole might enjoy peeling her out of that dress after the gala. Apparently that dress said, Take me to bed.

With her wardrobe choice settled, she scrounged around for black pumps and a small black purse. She took all the items into her room and stored them in the closet. No need for Kole to get a pre-show. It’d be more fun to surprise him. If he looked at her like Grandad had looked at Gran, Emma would consider it a big win.

A motorcycle hum outside the inn made her dash to the window. Kole pulled in next to her car and swung one of his powerful legs over his bike. He stepped back and yanked his helmet off. Man, that nearly shaved head and dark stubble around his jaw did things to Emma she couldn’t explain.

She had to be next to him. Now.

Rushing down the stairs, she opened the door as he crested the top porch step. The moment their gazes connected, she flung herself at him, loving the feel of his muscled arms as he caught her.

He pressed his nose into her hair and inhaled. “Miss me, Beauty?”

“Not at all.” Emma wiggled when Kole stuck a finger into her side, tickling her.

“Sassy. So, so sassy.” He stepped back and caught her mouth in a kiss so hot Emma feared the front porch would burst into flames. “I missed you. Desperately.”

“It takes a big man to admit that.”

He shifted his hips a bit so his arousal rubbed against her. “I am a big man. Do you need reminding?”

She shivered in his hold. “Aye, please.”

In a move her mind could barely register, Kole picked her up and carried her inside. While he climbed the stairs, she dropped light kisses along his jaw and neck until he arrived at his door.

“How I wish this was an automatic door so I didn’t have to put you down.”

She slid down his body, earning a growl of desire from him. “I’ll get Gran to make some upgrades.” She maneuvered behind him as he dug out his key and opened the door to his room, letting out a little squeal when he yanked her inside with him.

“Where are my manners? Was the wolf your brother?” She’d been so ecstatic to see him, she’d forgotten why he’d been gone.

Disappointment filled Kole’s marvelous blue eyes and she had her answer.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She folded him into a hug and rubbed his broad back. “You’ll find him. You will.”

“Aye.” Kole gave her an extra squeeze then stepped back, peeling off his leather jacket and giving her a view of his wonderful body. “He’s out there somewhere.”

She tugged him to sit on the bed. “Tell me the story, Kole. How did he go missing?”

He rubbed his hand over his bristly jaw and let out a sigh. “I suppose you didn’t have any trouble accepting werewolves are real, so I’m going to tell you the truth here, aye?”

“I would prefer the truth over lies. Always.”

“So I said I was from Ireland.”

“Like me.”

“Not exactly like you. The Ireland I come from is in the past. Way in the past. Think Celtic-warriors-fighting-their-way-across-the-green-hills type of past.”

“Celtic warriors?” Had she heard him correctly? “Like swords and battle cries, and no electricity Ireland?”

“Aye.” He gathered her hands and pressed them between his own, perhaps needing to touch her as much as she need to touch him. “Reardon was our army’s leader. He led us to victory after victory. Kings hired us to fight their enemies. Mercenaries. We were mercenaries.”

Here Kole squeezed his eyes closed and studied their joined hands. “I took many lives, Emma, and grew rich off my deeds. Fighting was the only thing Shawn, me, Reardon, Jaemus, Erik, and the rest of the soldiers were good at. Until one day we came across an opponent who was better than we were.”

He let her hands slip from his as he slowly stood and paced in front of her. “Reardon is a natural werewolf. He was born one. He has the power to turn anyone, so he did. He turned four of us in his army—those closest to him—without our knowledge. When it came time to fight again, we decimated the other army using our wolfman forms. We were savage, brutal, horrific.”

Emma wanted to go to him, but reading his thoughts told her he didn’t think much of himself right now and didn’t want to be consoled. He wanted to get this all out, uninterrupted. He was also afraid of what her reaction would be.

“By doing this killing in wolfman form, we angered the goddess Flidae.” He glanced at Emma. “You’ve already heard from her yourself.”

Emma nodded, but didn’t say anything so he would continue.

“As punishment, she banished us all from Ireland and scattered us, knowing wolves like a pack. The only way we can get back to our Ireland is to do something worthy.”

“Something worthy? Like what?” And did Kole want to go back to the past? She hadn’t thought beyond this burning passion soul mate thing between them. In reality though, neither one of them called Vermont home. Apparently, Kole didn’t even call the twenty-first century home.

“I have no idea what she’s expecting me to do, but Reardon and Jaemus finding Brandy and Nika was part of their something worthies.”

“Do you think I have something to do with your something worthy?”

“I did. At first.” He kneeled before her and rested his hands on her thighs. “I still do, but I met someone at Reardon’s that I think might need me too.”

“Who?” She searched his thoughts, but all she got were images of Ireland of his time. Lush, green hills. Stone buildings. Bloody battlefields.

“It’s better if you meet her.” He stood and held out his hand.

Her?

Kole let out a small laugh. “Don’t be jealous, Beauty. I only want you. Besides, that’s not how this lass needs me.”

Emma stood but gestured to the bed behind her. “I thought you were going to need me right now.” That sounded like a selfish plea, but she couldn’t help it. She’d been thinking of being with Kole all damn day, barely hanging on to her sanity.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, her nose, then her lips. Putting his mouth right by her ear, he whispered, “I’ll need you all night long when we get back from Reardon’s, lass.”

“Promise?”

By way of reply, he traced his finger around her breasts then hooked his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in closer. “Promise.”

“Okay. I need another promise too,” Emma said.

“So many demands.” He fingered the ends of her hair and staying clothed was becoming a real challenge.

“Not a demand so much as a favor. And a favor for a good cause. Nika called earlier needing a band to play at a fancy gala for Canville Children’s Home tomorrow night. Hendrake is going to do it with a toned down playlist and more suitable costuming. I’d like you to come with me.” She braced for him to object to dressing up for some local event, but he surprised her by grinning.

“The Canville Children’s Home, you say?” He nodded once. “Aye, I can oblige, Beauty.”

“You can?” She put her hands on her hips. “You realize you have to wear a suit, aye?”

“Aye. I’ll get one.”

“I had Blaithin get you one today.”

Kole raised an eyebrow. “You expected me to say yes then.”

“I didn’t expect you to say yes without some major convincing.”

“I’ve been convinced.” He took her hand and grabbed his jacket. “Come on. I’ll show you.”

A little confused, Emma followed him out and to her room where they picked up her jacket and purse. She let Gran know they were going out then stopped between her car and Kole’s bike. She expected him to choose his bike, but he ushered her toward her car instead.

“I think riding with you behind me on my motorcycle will turn me on too much.” He wiggled his dark eyebrows at her.

“I see. Good point.”

“But we will be going for a bike ride and a wolf run. Soon. I haven’t seen your wolf form yet and you’ve barely seen mine.”

The last time she’d been in the presence of Kole’s wolf, he’d bitten her and changed her life forever.

Lucky for her, that change was turning out to be the best thing to ever happen to her.

Chapter Ten

“I was wrong,” Kole said from the passenger seat of Emma’s car.

She gave him a sideways glance as she drove along the dirt road leading to Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary. “Wrong about what?”

“I got as turned on sitting here beside you as I would have if we’d taken my motorcycle.” He trailed his fingers up and down her arm on the armrest between them.

“Good to know I’m not the only one in this constant state of arousal.” She shot him a grin then pulled to a stop in front of the sanctuary gates which Reardon had left open for them.

“I’m told it doesn’t wear off.” He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it.

Her smile grew wider. “Excellent.”

Gods be damned, why hadn’t he left the Alaska wolves sooner, traveled faster across the country, gotten to Vermont and Emma quicker?

She wouldn’t have been here if you’d arrived earlier, Flidae said. Fate put you both here now.

Kole supposed that was true, but to think he could have been feeling like this sooner made him crazy.

But you wanted me to suffer first, aye? he asked Flidae.

True enough, but who said your suffering was over, wolf soldier?

Those words caught him off guard and he gasped.

“What’s wrong?” Emma had rolled the car past the gates.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts before she could pick up on them. “Nothing. Let’s go.” No sense in worrying Emma. He climbed out of the car and pushed Flidae’s words out of his head. If he was careful and smart, there’d be no more suffering.

Gathering Emma’s hand, he walked her up to Reardon’s front door and knocked. Dylan answered with a big smile. Was that kid always smiling or what?

“Hello again.” He stepped back to let them in.

“Dylan, this is Emma,” Kole said.

“Nice to meet you.” Dylan squinted up at her. “I watched some of your band’s videos online. The ones Mom said I could watch anyway.”

“You did?” Emma beamed and Kole loved to see her cheeks flushed with happiness. “What did you think?”

“Way cool. How does the guy with the silver spiked hair get it to stay up like that?”

Emma laughed. “Oh, he spends hours fussing with it. He’s worse than a girl.”

Dylan giggled and led them into the living room where a checkers board was set up on the coffee table by the couch. Kylie was sitting with her legs stretched out under the table, but when she saw Kole, she scrambled to her feet.

“What have we here?” Kole gestured to the game board.

“I’m kicking Dylan’s butt in checkers,” Kylie announced proudly. Her eyes were a little less sad. No doubt spending time with Dylan and his family was a good dose of normal for the lass. What could he do to give her more of that and why did he want to?

“Sometimes I let her win,” Dylan said. “You know, to make her feel good about herself.”

Kylie put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes at Dylan. “And sometimes I let him lose so he doesn’t get overconfident.”

Emma let out a laugh and wagged a finger at Kylie. “Oh, I like you, sweetie. You keep him in line. Otherwise they think they can rule the world.”

“As if. Things always go better when girls are in charge.” Kylie stuck her tongue out at Dylan then grinned. It almost reached her eyes. Almost.

“Amen, lass. Amen.” Emma stepped forward and held up her hand to Kylie for a high five.

Kylie obliged, but Kole noticed the flare in the lass’s eyes as her palm slapped against Emma’s. Emma jerked back a step and released the girl’s hand. Both females regarded their own palms with curiosity.

“What was that?” Kylie gazed up at Emma then Kole.

Kole came to stand beside them. “What was what?”

“I... I don’t know...” Emma slowly turned her gaze from her hand to him. “It was like...”

“When you get shocked,” Kylie said. “You know, in the winter and you have socks on and you rub your heels on the carpet then touch something. Like that.”

“Aye, like that. A... zap.” Emma glanced at Kylie. “But it’s spring and you’re not wearing socks and there’s no carpet in here.” She tapped her boot on the hardwood floor of the living room.

Kole leaned toward Kylie and inhaled. The scent he registered shocked him. “Dylan, where’s Reardon?”

“I think he’s in his office upstairs.” The boy looked from Kole to Emma to Kylie, his blue eyes wide.

“Go get him. Now.”

Dylan took off like an arrow up the stairs.

“I feel weird.” Kylie sat on the couch and rubbed her head.

Emma sat beside her and rested her hand on the girl’s forehead. “She’s burning up, Kole.”

He pressed the back of his hand to Kylie’s cheek. Her flesh was scorching. He sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of the lass and stared into her eyes. Sadness and loss still swirled there, but the brown wasn’t as dark anymore. An amber light reflected back now.

“What’s happening?” Reardon came up behind Kole.

“You tell us.” Kole tipped Kylie’s chin up so Reardon could get a look at her eyes.

“Gods be damned...” Reardon sunk to the cushion beside Kylie and put his hand on her forehead as Emma had done. “It can’t be...”

Kylie let out a moan and slumped into Emma’s lap, her eyes closed and her face incredibly flushed.

“Kole...” Emma brushed Kylie’s long blond hair out of her face and cradled the child against her. “Can you hear that?”

Aye, he definitely heard the rapid drum of Kylie’s heart. It was so fast, as if it might power itself right out of the girl’s chest.

“Reardon, what’s going on?” Kole sat on Emma’s other side and gently shook the lass. “Kylie? Lass? Wake up.”

“She’s not asleep,” Reardon said. “She’s turning.”

Kole popped up to his feet. “What? Into one of us?” He held up his hands and backed away from everyone. “How?”

Reardon cupped the girl’s cheek, his gaze tender. “She’s a natural werewolf. Like me.”

“At this age? Weren’t you older?” Kole asked.

“Aye. I was, but I had the same fever and my heart definitely beat like Kylie’s. My father came for me and brought me to other werewolves.” He angled his head at Kylie as the child moaned and curled up tighter in Emma’s lap. “Maybe being around all of us was enough to initiate the change in her.”

“I thought only Seventh Sons born on a December full moon were natural werewolves,” Kole said.

“That’s what I assumed.” Reardon scratched his dark beard. “My father never spoke about daughters in the same situation, but why shouldn’t it be true?”

“Kylie’s birthday is in December,” Dylan said. “But I think she was the third child in her family.”

Reardon dug out his cell phone and tapped the screen. “Dylan, get a towel and wet it with cold water.” He nudged the boy toward the kitchen. “Meredith,” he said, putting his phone on speaker and setting it on his thigh. “Any way you can contact your friend at the children’s home and find out if Kylie had more siblings than the ones that passed away in the plane crash?”

“Sure. Do I want to know why I’m asking that question?”

“It’s not a reason you can share.”

“Got it. Give me a few minutes and I’ll get back to you.”

Reardon ended the call as Kole took the wet towel from Dylan and pressed it to Kylie’s forehead. The lass groaned, pulled her legs up tighter to her chest, then leaped from Emma’s lap. The sudden movement stunned them all.

“Dylan, come here, lad.” Reardon stood and placed his body between Dylan and Kylie.

Kole stood, as did Emma, while Kylie’s gaze darted around the living room. She panted, small growls coming out of her throat that Kole could tell surprised her as much as they surprised them.

Reardon pushed Dylan toward Emma. “Keep him with you.” He approached Kylie, his motions slow and careful. “Kylie, lass. Look at me.”

Her glowing amber eyes snapped to Reardon.

“Good girl. Do you see a wolf running toward you? Do you see it?” He got closer still.

Kylie nodded, sweat soaking her hair, her panting getting louder, faster.

“Let it run into you. Don’t be afraid.”

The moment Kylie and the wolf collided, Kole’s body went rigid. So did Emma’s and Reardon’s.

With a loud yelp, Kylie dropped to all fours, her bones crunching and snapping as they reformed. A moment later, a mid-sized white wolf stood in the middle of the living room, the remains of Kylie’s clothes sitting in tatters around it. The wolf’s amber eyes were like lit maple syrup.

“She’s... so pretty.” Dylan’s voice was a whisper as he peeked around Emma.

“Aye,” Emma agreed. “Lovely.”

Ohmygod, Ohmygod, Ohmygod. What’s happened to me? Kylie’s thoughts screamed frantically in Kole’s head. Looking at Emma and Reardon, he knew they heard it too. Reardon made a move to go to the lass, but Kole stepped in front of him.

“May I?” he asked.

Reardon moved out of the way and rested his hands on Dylan’s shoulders. After looking at Kole and Emma, he said, “Let’s give them all a minute, lad.”

Dylan didn’t move at first, his big, blue eyes glued to Kylie’s wolf form. “We gotta tell Mom.”

“Aye.”

After they left, Kole took Emma’s hand. “So Kylie is who I wanted you to meet.”

“The one who needs you.” Emma cupped his cheek. “You knew she was more than a regular human, didn’t you?”

“There was something about her, but I didn’t think she was a wolf. I thought she was a sad, lonely lass who deserved more than living in a children’s home.”

“Well, she got more, that’s for sure.” A full-body shudder rippled through Emma.

Kole pulled her into an embrace. “You okay, Beauty?”

“Aye. I just... feel the need to shift.” She peered over Kole’s shoulder at Kylie who was nosing around the floor, sniffing absolutely everything like a newborn pup.

“It’d be a good way to welcome her, wouldn’t it?” Kole pressed his nose against Emma’s ear and nibbled on her neck. “Besides, I wanted to see your wolf form.”

Grinning, Emma slid off her jacket and dropped it on the couch. She shrugged out of her long-sleeved T-shirt and shimmied out of her jeans and undergarments. Quickly, she shifted into a gorgeous black wolf whose fur had a bluish tinge to it. Her blue eyes were big and glowing.

And studying Kole as if waiting for him to change too.

“You want me to join you, lasses?” He ran his fingers along Emma’s back as she rubbed her length against his thighs.

Aye. Join us. Emma’s thoughts bounced around in his head.

Looking around to make sure Reardon or Dylan hadn’t returned, he stripped down and changed into his wolf form. He spent a few moments sniffing and rubbing with Emma then they both turned their attention to Kylie who was sitting on her haunches regarding them with interest.

Emma meandered over to the white wolf and licked her between the ears. Kylie immediately flopped over to her back and pawed at Emma’s mouth. Kole didn’t know much about being werewolves, but from his time with the Alaska wolves, he easily recognized Kylie’s behavior as what a pup would do with its mother. The two females nuzzled each other and played little nipping games.

Not able to resist any longer, Kole joined them, nosing around Kylie and loving the bouncy way she moved around him. As if she were excited to be amongst Emma and him.

As if she belonged with them.

****

Emma’s pull toward Kole was undeniable, but this need to nurture Kylie was as powerful. The white pup swatted at Emma’s nose, pounced on her paws, then ran underneath Emma’s body before bolting over to Kole. Watching Kole get down to his belly so Kylie could climb all over him nearly melted Emma’s heart.

A run? Kole’s voice caressed Emma’s ears. With Kylie?

Aye. She could think of nothing she wanted to do more.

Kole nudged Kylie toward the door and Emma prepared to shift back to human so she could open it. As they approached, however, the door opened and Meredith stepped into the house. Beyond her, a huge black wolf and a copper-colored wolf sat.

“Well, don’t you all look fabulous?” Meredith laughed when Kylie tackled her shoelace. “And frisky too.” She put her hands on her hips. “Now I know you can’t talk to me, but you can understand me, so here goes. Kylie is the third child in her family, however, her father had been married before meeting Kylie’s mother. With his first wife, he had four children—two sets of twins—so that does make Kylie number seven. Her father must have been a werewolf too and he must have taken something directly to the heart in that plane crash to have died.”

Kylie sunk to the ground, white paws covering her nose as a whimper sounded.

Emma immediately nosed the pup in the ear, offering her consoling licks.

I miss them, Kylie said.

Kole lowered to his belly next to Kylie and tucked her under his chin. It’s hard being apart from the ones you love.

But maybe my dad sent you and Emma to me. Kylie looked up at Kole then Emma, her amber eyes begging for acceptance.

Perhaps he did. Emma nuzzled Kole and the three of them formed a tight wolf pile. The warmth, the closeness, made Emma feel like part of something important.

Soul mates come in many forms, Flidae said.

Outside, the huge black wolf barked once.

“That sounds like Reardon’s let’s-get-a-move-on bark to me,” Meredith said. “He and Brandy want to take you three for a run through the sanctuary woods with the other wolves. How does that sound?”

Emma, Kole, and Kylie dashed out of the house and spilled into the dark woods.

“I guess it sounds just right.” Meredith followed them as Dylan walked over with a flashlight and stood beside Reardon.

“I wish I could run with you guys,” he said. “But I’m a lowly human. No good at seeing in the dark or running fast through the woods.” He wandered back to Meredith, kicking at random stones, and went inside the house with her.

Emma wondered if the boy wished to be a werewolf too.

We’ll give him that choice when he’s older, Brandy, the copper-colored wolf said. She nosed Reardon, who of course could turn the boy should he want that.

That reminds me, Emma said, do we have time for a few questions before I agree to go all animal in the woods with you?

Reardon let out a gruff bark that sounded like a laugh. Go ahead, lass. Ask away.

Longer life, healing abilities, soul mates, Emma began. I know about these. What kills a werewolf?

Anything aimed right at the heart. Ask Jaemus about that one. Reardon sat on his haunches but still seemed gigantic to Emma. Glancing quickly at Kole, she judged them to be about the same size with Reardon just a tad larger.

What about reproduction? Am I infertile now? Playing around with Kylie had sparked a yearning for children.

Not infertile, Reardon said. You can have children. Normal, human children. He turned his green-gold gaze to Kole. Both of you can.

Relief washed over Emma, but she bottled it for now because behind Reardon and Brandy, a white mist rolled out of the woods. Instinctively, Emma moved closer to Kylie and Kole as Reardon and Brandy turned around. The mist approached like a wave coming in to the shore. It collected in a cylinder of white a few feet from them. When a raven-haired woman rose out of the mist, there was no doubt who it was.

Reardon, Brandy, and Kole automatically bowed before the goddess, but Emma and Kylie stood frozen.

“New wolves.” Flidae’s voice was smooth and musical. “Lovely to meet you.” She held out a pale, slender hand and beckoned to Kylie.

The white pup crawled forward and an urge to protect the newborn werewolf flared in Emma.

“Do not worry, she-wolf. I don’t wish to harm the pup. I only wish to welcome her to my kingdom of wild things.” Flidae lowered to a crouch and cupped her hands together as she held them out to Kylie. “Come see me, my child.”

As if not under her own power, Kylie tottered over to Flidae. Emma could feel the lass’s fear. It mirrored her own.

Don’t be afraid, Beauty. Kole rubbed his cheek along hers. I won’t let anything happen to you or Kylie.

“You can try, wolf soldier.” Flidae stood after inspecting Kylie. “But you know my power.”

I know you know where Shawn is too.

Flidae grinned. “I know where all my wolves are, natural borns and made. You will find your brother. If you really want to.”

With a nod to them all, the goddess blended into the mist once again.

I hate when she leaves breadcrumbs that don’t lead anywhere. Kole let out a huff.

A run will clear our heads. Brandy let out a howl and her sanctuary wolves answered, many of them appearing, ready to join in on the run.

Ready, little one? Reardon nudged Kylie.

Yeah! I feel like running!

On that note, they all took off into the woods. Emma was impressed with the night vision she now had. It allowed her to move swiftly through the dark forest without incident. Her paws thudded to the ground with confidence and she kept pace with Kole beside her. Kylie galloped in front of them, her white fur nearly glowing in the moonlight. All around them, twigs snapped and leaves crunched under the stampede of wolf paws.

Emma’s muscles felt positively wonderful as they pushed her wolf body to its full potential. She’d never felt this free. Getting turned into a werewolf wasn’t something Emma ever expected. Who did really? But now that she was one, she felt as if she were always destined to be a werewolf. Her wolf body was comfortable and strong. Her connection to the dirt beneath her paws, the trees standing sentinel around her, the night sky above her was deep and energized.

And her passion for the brown wolf running alongside her was all consuming.

No wonder you prefer your wolf form, she said to Kole.

Feels good, aye? He turned his glowing blue gaze to her.

Wonderful. I could run forever.

We can run whenever we like, Beauty.

Beast, I’ll follow you anywhere.

Kole poked her side with his nose as they ran and Emma couldn’t think of a time better than this. Sure, she loved getting up on stage and performing with Hendrake, but this running provided a rush that was a million times more potent. Crisp air flowed over her fur. Her heart pumped a steady rhythm. Her ears detected sounds in the forest she’d never heard before. A cricket munching. A leaf releasing its stem from a branch. A mushroom sprouting. A fly drinking from water collected in a fallen leaf. Rocks shifting against each other. She’d never felt more connected to nature.

Brandy and Reardon stopped at a pond in the woods. Its surface was like glass except where insects landed and created small ripples in the wet perfection.

Time to cool off, Reardon said.

Last one in is a stinky mutt. Brandy barked and dove in.

Reardon and the sanctuary wolves followed right behind them, but Emma and Kole paused as Kylie dipped a tentative paw into the water and skittered back.

What’s the matter, lass? Kole asked. It’s water. Same as when you’re in human form.

That’s what I’m afraid of.

She can’t swim, Emma said, hearing Kylie voice the fear in her head.

That’s as a human, Kole said.  For wolves, swimming is instinctual. Watch. He splashed in, getting Emma and Kylie soaked in the process, and waded out to one of Brandy’s wolves. The two wolves tousled in the water, sending out waves and making the pond look like fun.

What do you say, Kylie? Emma nudged her. Want to try with me?

Slowly, the white pup stepped into the water with Emma right by her side, ready to pluck her from the depths if necessary. The moment the water got deeper, however, Kylie’s paws automatically cycled, keeping her afloat and moving forward.

I’m doing it! Kylie’s excitement was adorable as her white ears and black nose stayed above the water. Look, Emma! I’m doing it!

Of course you are. You always knew how. A little more relaxed now, Emma treaded water near Kylie.

I wish I knew how before. My older brothers tried to teach me, but I was too afraid. Does being a werewolf mean I won’t be afraid of anything anymore?

Reardon paddled over. I wish it meant that, lass. Fear is part of life though. Wolf or human or both. The key is knowing you’re strong enough to face it.

Emma had a feeling Reardon spoke from experience, especially when he swam over to Brandy and pressed his side against hers.

Look at you. Kole cut through the water toward them. Swimming like a pro. He splashed a little water at Kylie and the pup hit the water with her paws, spraying him back.

Emma joined in and soon all the wolves were sending water every which way as they played under the moon’s light. They spent awhile at that pond, enjoying the spring night air and the company of wolves.

When they returned to the sanctuary, Brandy’s wolves meandered off to sleep under the stars, and Emma half wanted to do the same.

One night we will, Kole said. We’ll spend the entire night in a wolf pile together and rise with the sun.

That sounds nice.

Brandy corralled Emma and Kylie toward the house while Reardon edged Kole to the clinic. After shifting to human form, Brandy opened the house door and let Emma and Kylie inside.

“I’ll bring you some of Dylan’s clothes, Kylie. Then let’s eat something. I’m starving.”

Emma’s stomach growled as Brandy climbed the stairs. You’re not the only one.

Brandy disappeared and Emma shifted into human form. She quickly changed into her discarded clothes then approached Kylie with her jacket.

“You can shift back if you’d like and I’ll cover you with my jacket.” She shook out the jacket and held it open near the white pup.

Umm, how do I change back?

“Oh, right. I guess all werewolves are terrible at helping new werewolves. I should write a manual.” She kneeled beside Kylie and rubbed the pup’s ears. “All you have to do is picture your human form and you’ll change.”

That’s it?

“Aye. Stupidly simple, right?”

Kylie’s amber eyes flashed for a moment then her human form burst through her white fur.

Emma quickly wrapped the child in her jacket and zipped it closed. “There you go.”

“That was fun.” Kylie giggled, the glow fading from her big, brown eyes.

“Which part?” Emma folded the girl into a hug.

“All of it.”

The lass was right. This Vermont trip was full of unexpected surprises.

Chapter Eleven

“I’m stuffed.” Kole patted his stomach as he pulled Emma into his room at Deer Creek Inn. They’d feasted like royalty at Silver Moon, Brandy and Meredith supplying food by the ton.

Emma fell backward on his bed, her arms flopping out to her sides. “I never want to eat again.”

Kole shed his jacket and crawled onto Emma. He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. “I know a way we can work off all that food.”

“I’ll bet you do.” Emma hooked her legs around his waist and squeezed him closer.

He leaned down and ran his tongue up her neck to her ear. Releasing her hands, he used his own to unzip her jacket and peel it off her shoulders. Once he had rid her of that, he slid his hands under her shirt and slowly inched it up until that too was off her body. Growling softly, he scooted down her body so he could press his lips to her exposed stomach. Gods, her skin was so silky and white and perfect.

And her taste made him crazy.

He continued his trip along her curves while one of his hands unzipped her jeans. When he got down to her feet, he grabbed the cuffs and tugged until her pants were a pile of denim at the foot of the bed. He kicked them to the floor then massaged his way back up to Emma’s face—a face he could look at for a lifetime.

A werewolf’s lifetime.

I love you.

Emma’s eyes flared with blue fire. She’d heard his thoughts.

“You’d better love me. Otherwise you bit me for nothing. I’m your soul mate and don’t you forget it.” Leaning forward on her elbows, she captured his mouth with hers, her tongue thrusting in to rub against his.

“I’d never forget it, Beauty. Never.” His hands coasted up her sides then framed her face. “I’ve never felt like this about anyone.”

“Neither have I. This connection, this bond, is deep, Kole. So deep. I’m drowning in it, and I don’t care.” She stole another kiss then brought her own hands up to cup his cheeks. “I love you, Beast. Too much to even describe.”

No one had ever said such words to Kole. He wanted to hear them again and again from Emma’s sweet lips.

She rid him of his clothes in quick, efficient moves then freed herself of her undergarments. “Now let’s see about working off that food, shall we?”

Kole didn’t need to be asked twice. After sheathing his arousal with a condom, he picked Emma up and settled her on his lap, his cock burying itself deep inside her as he growled. “I knew you’d be ready for me.”

“Always ready for you...” Emma’s words were breathy as her eyes rolled shut and she gripped his shoulders. “Always.” She wiggled her hips, making her ass grind against his thighs.

“Aye.” Kole sighed. “More of that, lass. More of that.”

She moved again and he put his hands on her hips, loving the feel of her soft curves in his rough hands. Her waist was so slender and sexy. He moved his hands to palm her ass and loved the handfuls he found there. Pushing farther into her, he let out a moan when her insides spasmed around him.

“You feel so good inside me.” Emma wrapped her arms around his shoulders as they moved in a steady rhythm together.

Kole had spent quite a bit of time alone while in this century. He’d had the wolves in Alaska, but that was nothing like having this amazing woman in his arms. Nothing at all. He’d been doing nothing but wandering. Sure, he’d been searching for Shawn because he missed him, but also because he didn’t know what the fuck else he was supposed to be doing. He’d enjoyed his fishing job in Juneau. Still, that hadn’t given him a purpose.

Loving Emma, however, made him realize where he was destined to be. In her life. In her arms. In her heart.

He lightly bit at her neck, eliciting rumbles of pleasure from Emma’s throat. Smoothing his hand over her hair, he recalled the blue-black of her wolf’s fur. Gods, she had been so beautiful running beside him in the woods tonight, and she’d taken naturally to caring for little Kylie.

Emma increased her movement, bringing him closer to the edge each time she clenched around him. On a ragged whisper of his name, she came apart as he did. The orgasm was long and wild and unlike anything he’d ever experienced. Would it be like this each time they made love? Better and better?

“I hope so.” Sleepy satisfaction was painted on Emma’s face.

Still inside her, Kole eased them down so he was draped over her body. “Guess we’ll have to keep doing it to test that theory.”

“Awesome plan.” She twitched her hips up and his cock was somehow ready for more. “Werewolf stamina is a wonderful thing.”

They made love several more times and finally fell asleep in a tangle of limbs Kole didn’t mind being stuck in. When he opened his eyes next, morning sun streamed in from the windows, turning Emma’s pale skin into something golden and warm.

Kole rubbed his forehead, marveling over the absence of the headache that had plagued him since being turned. For the amount of time he’d been spending in human form lately, his head should be ready to explode.

But not with Emma by his side. She soothed that ache completely. Hell, he almost felt like a normal human again.

Emma stirred beside him and he pressed a kiss to her temple. She stretched—wolf-like—and rolled to her back.

Kole studied her profile, loving the pout of her lips, the slope of her nose, the fan of her dark eyelashes. She was exquisite. She was his.

“Last night...” Her voice was raspy and she cleared her throat. “Last night was the kind of night you write songs about.”

“If anyone can do it, you can.”

“Only because you’ve inspired me.” She pushed up to sitting, the blankets sliding down to her waist, her beautiful breasts bared to him. And calling to his eager fingers.

He cupped one, running his thumb over her nipple until it budded. Lowering, he flicked his tongue over that tight nub and swirled until Emma collapsed back down on the bed and sighed.

“Everything you do turns me on, Kole. Everything.”

He raised his head to give her a quick grin before going to work on her other breast. He was sorry for the way she’d become a werewolf, but he was overjoyed it had resulted in him finding his soul mate.

They made out as if they’d been created to do only that until Emma pushed on Kole’s shoulders and stared up at him. “We’d better get out of this bed.”

Kole shook his head. “That’s the worst idea you’ve ever had.”

Emma chuckled. “No. Trust me, I’ve had way worse. Seriously though, I’ve got some more practicing to do with the guys for tonight’s gala.”

“And I should plan my next steps in searching for Shawn.”

Emma turned to leave, but stopped. “Do think there’s a way... you know... to...”

“Keep Kylie?” He’d been pondering the same thing.

“Aye. I get what you said about her needing you. Even before she changed, I understood.”

“She needs you too.” Kole brushed her hair aside and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek. “I’ll look into what options there might be today.”

Emma’s face brightened. “That’d be great.” She slid out of the bed, the light from the window outlining her perfect body. She stretched again, and that image would carry Kole through the day while she was here practicing and he was... not here. “At least we definitely get to see her tonight at the gala.”

“Let’s send her a present.” Kole had this undeniable wish inside him to make Kylie smile.

“I know just the thing. Leave it to me.” Emma clapped her hands. “Now, I really must go.”

“Before Torrin finds you in here?” Kole scowled.

Emma rounded the bed and pressed her naked body against his. “I don’t care who finds me in here, Beast. I’m over hiding this thing between us. It means too much.” She grinned. “Besides, I think Gran and Blaithin know we’re serious, even though it’s only been a few days.”

He wasn’t surprised Gran knew. She knew everything, but Blaithin? “How does Blaithin know?”

“We’ve known each other for a long time. He noticed me acting like a woman in love, I guess.” Emma bent to pick up her clothes and began dressing. “Anyway, I’ll tell the other two today that I’m madly in love with you.”

“Torrin’s not going to like that.” Kole pictured the frown on the lad’s face at the news.

“No, he’s not, but he’s got to lead his life and I’ve got to lead mine. We intersect at Hendrake and at being friends. That’s it.” She zipped her jeans and grabbed her jacket. Leaning in for a kiss, she said, “I’ll see you later. See Blaithin about the suit they picked up for you yesterday.” She stepped back and gave him a slow once-over. “I can’t wait to see you in it.”

“Naked it my best look, Beauty.” He angled his hands at himself then flexed his muscles.

Emma left his room, giggling out into the hallway. He already missed her.

“Don’t be a fool.” He’d see her tonight. In the meantime, he had a brother search to continue, a child werewolf to inquire about, and a suit to try on.

But first, a shower.

He took care of business in there, but the cold water did nothing to erase his desire for Emma. In fact, all he did was picture her in the shower with him, droplets of water rolling down her skin. He wanted to suds her up from head to toe and touch her absolutely everywhere. His cock stiffened at these mental images and he shook his head at his weakness when it came to her. She had a brand of magic he was defenseless against.

After his shower, he went downstairs to the dining room where he realized Gran had picked up a few more guests at the inn. The room was crowded with people, chatting and eating. The coziness of the scene warmed Kole, making him want things he’d never wanted before.

A real place to call home.

A woman to love.

A family that was his.

What is Vermont doing to me?

He grabbed a cup of coffee and turned to leave, but someone tugged on his jacket sleeve.

“Leaving without breakfast?” Gran asked as she wagged a finger at him. “Most important meal of the day.”

He’d already had his meal. Emma.

“I ate at Brandy’s last night.” He rubbed his stomach. “I don’t require food for at least five years now.”

“Oh, Brandy and her mother can cook up a storm. I’ve been to events at the sanctuary. Nobody starves over there.” Gran tilted her head at him. “And you took Emma there? To meet your family?”

Kole guessed he had taken her to meet his family. He’d been thinking about Kylie and getting answers to werewolf questions, but in essence, hadn’t they ended up spending a wonderful evening with his cousin’s family—sanctuary wolves included? His cousin’s family that Reardon would definitely let him consider his family too.”

“Aye. We spent time with Reardon, Brandy, Meredith, and Dylan. They also had one of the lasses from Canville Children’s Home visiting. Kylie.”

Gran beamed a smile up at him. “Oh, she’s my favorite. Such a bright young thing. So sad what happened to her family, but I think happiness is still possible for her, don’t you?”

Does Gran know my intentions? How could she?

“I’d like to think happiness is in her future,” he said.

Gran grabbed a nearby coffee pot and refreshed his cup. “To fuel your day.”

“Thanks. Are you going to the gala tonight too?” he asked.

“Haven’t missed one yet. Those little dears need us. Can’t let them down.”

If Kole had his way, at least one of the little dears wouldn’t be let down.

****

“She’s been with us at Canville Children’s Home for about three years,” Mrs. Rubisson, the director of the home, explained to Kole. “She’s a bright girl. Several couples have been interested in adopting her and I’ve placed her twice, but she always ends up back here.”

“Why?” Kole sat across from Mrs. Rubisson on the other side of her desk in her tiny office at the home. The moment he’d stepped into the building, he knew he had to get Kylie out of there. Not because it wasn’t clean or safe, but because no child should have to grow up without a family. When both of his parents had passed, he and Shawn had to fend for themselves. They’d survived, but Kylie deserved more than mere survival.

Mrs. Rubisson tapped a few keys on her laptop and squinted at the screen in front of her, nodding as she read whatever was there. “In both placements, the couples reported Kylie was ‘too sad.’” She made air quotes with her fingers. “They didn’t know how to help her. Both couples had taken her to therapy, but Kylie refused to talk, so they returned her here.”

Like merchandise in a store. Kole’s chest tightened. She was a child, not a product.

“What if I wanted to adopt her?” He leaned closer, wishing that werewolf abilities included the power to sway someone’s mind. Instead, he tried his best to look responsible and... fatherly. If Reardon could do it, so could he.

Mrs. Rubisson studied him over the top of her computer, one eyebrow raised, as if she were trying to determine the seriousness of his question.

He wasn’t joking. He wanted Kylie. He wanted Emma. Emma wanted Kylie. Somewhere there was logic in all that. He and Emma could be exactly what Kylie needed, especially in regards to them all being werewolves.

Kole let his mind wander to lazy Sunday afternoons, the three of them running in the woods or swimming or sunning themselves in their wolf forms. Of course, there would be a whole bunch of things they could do together as humans too. Ice skate in the winter, bike ride in the spring, boat in the summer, pick apples in the fall. The possibilities were many and Kole warmed inside thinking of them.

So domesticated. Flidae’s voice purred in his head.

Not now. He didn’t need the goddess distracting him from this mission.

With a laugh that somehow sounded light-hearted for a goddess, Flidae left his mind.

“Do you have a job, Mr. McMannus?” Mrs. Rubisson closed her laptop and pushed it aside. She clasped her hands on her desk, looking very... official.

“Not at the moment,” Kole said, knowing that wasn’t a good answer for someone who wanted to take responsibility of a child. “But I just arrived in Vermont a few days ago.”

“And what’s your purpose in Vermont?”

“I came to visit my cousins.” She didn’t need to know he had a missing brother. A missing werewolf brother.

“Do you plan to stay in Vermont or are you just passing through?” She plucked a pencil out of a metal can painted to look like a beehive.

Well, he was doing much more than passing through, wasn’t he? Meeting Emma and Kylie had changed his plans significantly.

“I’ll be honest and say my original intentions were not to stay here, but the place is growing on me.”

At that response, Mrs. Rubisson smiled. “I know what you mean. I came to Vermont on a skiing trip when I was twenty. I never left.”

“I could make this my home.” And he meant it. Home would be wherever Emma and Kylie were. His Ireland of the past didn’t hold the appeal it once did. He didn’t want to go back to the life of a hired soldier. He didn’t want to kill other people’s enemies for riches. Coming to Vermont had shown him that he could be rich in so many other ways.

“Where are you staying currently?” Mrs. Rubisson asked.

“Deer Creek Inn.”

“A hotel? Hmm.” Her brows lowered and Kole did not take that to be a good sign.

“A bed and breakfast actually,” he said, because that made it sound homey.

“I know the place. Aideen Rhodes is a big supporter of the children here.” She fiddled with a set of keys on her desk. “But Deer Creek Inn isn’t a place to raise a family. Are you married?”

“Not yet, but I have a fine lass all picked out.” Because once you found your soul mate, you didn’t let her get away.

“How long have you two been together?” Mrs. Rubisson tapped her pencil on the desktop and the noise rattled Kole.

Or maybe it was the questions rattling him. He could tell by the crease between Mrs. Rubisson’s brows that he was failing miserably at this interview.

“Emma and I have known each other for a few days, but...” he put his hands up when she frowned, “I know, without a doubt in my mind, she’s the lass for me. We will be together.”

“I admire your positive attitude and determination, Mr. McMannus, but you have no job, no home, and are in a days-old relationship. These are not conditions under which we can release one of our children to your care.” She leaned forward. “I have no doubts you are a fine gentleman, but if I’m not assured Kylie will have all her needs met, she has to stay here with us.”

“But if you become assured Kylie will have all her needs met with me and Emma, then she can stay with us?” He knew he’d have some work to do, but he wanted to make this happen.

“Those are the basics, yes.”

Kole stood and held out his hand. “Thank you, Mrs. Rubisson. I’ll be in touch.”

She stared at his hand for a second before shaking it and smiling. “I hope you will be, Mr. McMannus.”

He saw himself out of the home, not wanting to see Kylie yet as he didn’t exactly have great news. But he would. He was sure of it. He and Emma could find a way. He and Emma could do anything together.

Straddling his bike, he pulled out his phone and tapped the screen, finding the number he wanted. After several rings, he said, “Hello, Brandy,” right when she picked up.

“Hey, Kole. All my wolves are lazing around today. They’re tired from our frolicking in the woods last night.”

Frolicking. He wasn’t a frolicker, but he had, willingly, and he’d loved every minute of it. “Funny, I woke up with more energy than ever.”

“Me too. What can I do for you?”

“Where are Reardon and Jaemus working?”

Brandy gave him the details and after a stop at the sanctuary, he made quick time to the construction site in Danton. He parked his bike in front of a trailer, but veered off to the left of it when he found the tall forms of his cousins. They were easy to spot amongst the dozen or so other men working on what appeared to be a multi-story building. Right now a steel beam skeleton reached up to the blue sky.

As he approached, both Reardon and Jaemus turned around, no doubt smelling him as soon as he neared. He held up a brown paper bag and wiggled it.

“I come bearing gifts from Brandy.” He stopped in front of them.

“Did she somehow fit herself in that bag?” Reardon asked. “Because I could go for a little taste of my fairy lass right now.”

Jaemus rolled his eyes then arrowed a thumb at his brother. “Can you believe he used to lead us in battle? What a sap he’s become.”

“I’m not the only one, brother.” Reardon gave Jaemus a shove, and a longing for Shawn rolled through Kole. They teased each other in the same fashion. Where the hell was he?

“I believe it’s just food, lads.” Kole surrendered the bag to Reardon who peeked inside then pulled out a huge blueberry muffin.

Reardon handed one to Jaemus who bit right into it and offered one to Kole who waved it off. “Still full from last night?”

“Gods, aye.”

Jaemus inhaled the muffin and brushed the crumbs off his hands. “What?” He patted his stomach. “I’ve always got room for more.”

“Speaking of having room for more,” Reardon said. “Yes, you can have a job here, Kole.” He tapped his temple, indicating he’d heard Kole’s thoughts probably from the moment Kole had parked his bike in front of that trailer.

“Really?” Could it be this easy?

“Aye.” Reardon arced an arm out to the building. “We’ve got a tight deadline on this thing and the big boss asked us this morning if we knew any men looking for work.”

“We gave him your name already,” Jaemus added. “Just go into the trailer and ask Peggy for the paperwork. Then one of us or Emma can help you fill it out. Seeing as how none of us has any acceptable prior work experience, one needs to get a little creative about the application.”

This was going better than Kole had expected. Having a job would get him one step closer to having Kylie.

“What are we building here anyway?” he asked.

Reardon picked up a clipboard resting on boxes of nails at his feet. Flipping a few pages, he said, “A Danton Community Center for the Arts.” He shrugged. “I don’t know, but we don’t have to know.”

“We just have to bang nails and haul materials,” Jaemus said. “Not much different than slashing swords and carrying the bodies of the fallen.”

Kole could do those tasks without much trouble. This construction thing should be easy.

“So if you want a job,” Reardon said, “does that mean you’re sticking around for a while?” His cousin’s mouth twitched up in a grin.

“Aye. I’ve found many things to love about Vermont.”

“And once we find Shawn and Erik things will perfect,” Jaemus said.

Kole couldn’t argue with that. Having a pack of werewolves to go with Brandy’s pack of real wolves at the sanctuary would be wonderful.

After saying thank you and goodbye to his cousins, Kole made his way back to the trailer. He knocked on the door, met Peggy, and asked for his paperwork.

Peggy handed it over with a slow, head-to-toe once-over of Kole and a smile. “Boy, does everyone who is related to Reardon look as if they’ve stepped off the pages of a romance novel?”

Kole had never read a romance novel, but he got the gist of her comment. “And we’re not even the good-looking relatives.”

Peggy’s mouth dropped open and she gaped at him for a second before shaking her head and laughing. “You’re funnin’ with me.” She stopped laughing and stared at him. “Ain’t ya?”

Grinning, Kole gave her a wave and exited the trailer. Tucking the paperwork inside his jacket, he hopped on his bike and motored down the backwoods streets until he hit pavement. He slowed down once he got into the center of Danton and took note of the little shops lining each side of the street. When he spotted one proclaiming to be Jessie’s Jewelry, he parked in front of it and went inside.

As soon as the door closed behind him, a woman with yellow-blond hair that bounced when she moved descended upon him.

“Good afternoon.” Her voice bubbled and Kole didn’t think he could listen to it for too long. “What are we shopping for today?”

Kole looked behind him, wondering who the we was, but only he stood in the doorway. “I’m looking for something for my...” Damn. What is the word people in this time use? “My girlfriend. Aye, I’m looking for something for my girlfriend.” That word didn’t do anything to represent the magnitude of what he felt for Emma though. Not even close.

The woman, whose nametag said Shelia, clapped her hands. “Okay. Now are you looking to surprise her just because, is there a specific occasion, or are you trying to get out of the doghouse?” She gave him a stern look with her hazel eyes on the word doghouse, which made Kole think a man didn’t want to ever be in the doghouse.

“A mix of surprise and specific occasion, I suppose.” He slipped by her and browsed in one of the nearby cases where gems sparkled under warm lighting.

“What’s the occasion?” Shelia followed him as he wandered, as if she were afraid of losing him in the tiny shop.

“I’m going to ask my soul mate to spend forever with me.” Now he turned the full force of his blue eyes on Sheila, which he knew pleased women. He’d used them many times back in Ireland to gain some physical pleasure and while traveling across this country in this time looking for Shawn.

Strangely, he hadn’t thought to use his eyes on Emma. He hadn’t had to. Especially not after he’d bitten her.

“Oh!” Sheila clapped again and did a little jump that made her hair bounce even more. “A proposal! How wonderful. The engagement rings are over here.”

He followed her to a case where the jewelry shined more than in the rest of the shop. White flowers adored the ends of the case and a small, white iron table and three chairs took up a little corner.

Kole peered into the case. What would Emma like? The only jewelry he’d seen her wear had been simple silver star earrings and what she’d adorned herself with for her performance with Hendrake. He doubted the latter was what she would normally wear. That jewelry, bedecked with skulls, was part of her vampire image.

But the real Emma—the one he’d made love to and called his soul mate? What would she want?

Sheila pulled rings out of the case and jabbered on about cuts and clarity and things Kole didn’t know anything about. Nor did he care. He just knew from looking at Brandy’s and Nika’s hands that men in this time bought rings for their beloveds to claim them.

When his gaze landed on the price tags of these rings, he backpedaled away from the case.

Gods be damned, I don’t have that kind of money. How had his cousins afforded such baubles?

Maybe after a few months on the construction job he would have enough. If he put away every last penny, which meant he’d have nothing to spend on finding a suitable place to live so he could please Mrs. Rubisson and get Kylie.

If he were back in Ireland, he’d have plenty of riches to get everything he wanted. He wasn’t back in Ireland though.

He was stuck here.

Chapter Twelve

Emma smoothed her hands over the purple lace sheath dress she’d borrowed from Gran. Never had a piece of clothing fit her so well. It covered things she didn’t like about her body and accentuated the things she did. How many dresses were able to do that?

She put on the silver heart necklace and matching earrings Gran had also loaned her, and though they weren’t the usual gothic jewelry she adorned herself with when she performed, something about the simple design was antique—as if owned by a centuries-old vampire.

Perfect. The band had agreed to ratchet down on the dark, edgy image they’d built for Hendrake, but they could certainly hint at it. The last thing they wanted was to get saddled with a squeaky-clean image that branded them as a children’s band. She chuckled thinking of the lads playing birthday parties in the midst of hired clowns and costumed cartoon characters.

No. Tonight was a good deed. Pure and simple. And good deeds brought good karma. And good karma made dreams come true. She and the guys had composed some new material she was rather excited about. It had potential. She was sure of it. This trip to Vermont had been the right decision.

For many reasons. One of which was in the next room, showering and changing into a suit.

Shiver. She couldn’t wait to see Kole. They’d talked for a few minutes when he’d come back to the inn. He’d debriefed her on his day, which included visiting Canville Children’s Home and finding out they had some steps to complete before being allowed to adopt Kylie. Steps Kole had gotten a jump on by getting a job with his cousins.

A real job. Not like the ones she currently held. A gig-to-gig musician. A here-and-there Irish step instructor. A hard-to-find-interested-students fiddle teacher. None of these screamed responsible adult. None of them were steady money. None of them could support a family.

“What’s with the scowl, dear?”

Emma whirled around from the mirror to find Gran standing in her doorway. She hadn’t heard the door open, her thoughts consuming her.

“Just thinking maybe the time has come for me to grow up.” She had no guarantees the new material the band had written would make them a big hit. Sighing, she slipped her feet into black heels and gave herself one more look in the mirror.

“You look like a grown-up to me.” Gran came to stand behind her and rested a hand on her shoulder. “You look fabulous.”

Emma put her hand on top of Gran’s and shifted to the side a little so Gran’s image was visible in the mirror too. “I’m not the only one. Look at you.”

Gran wore a black dress with a sparkly border on the scoop neck and the cuffs of the three-quarter length sleeves. The bodice was fitted, but the skirt flared out. A pair of black, glittery flats adorned Gran’s feet and diamond earrings twinkled on her ears. Her silver hair had been straightened and gathered neatly into a low, sophisticated bun at the nape of her neck. The entire look screamed classy lady. Now there was a grown-up. A woman who ran a successful bed and breakfast inn practically by herself.

“Let’s agree we both look amazing.” Gran squeezed her shoulder then released her. “I still want to know why you think you need to grow up though.” She nudged Emma around to face her.

Emma shrugged. “I need this dream of mine to take off into something serious. Or get a new dream.”

“Why the sudden concern?”

“Well, things are kind of serious with Kole and it’s making me think about the future. One that doesn’t just include me touring the globe and singing with Hendrake.”

“Ah, I see. There might be some other things you want out of this life, aye?” Gran rubbed Emma’s shoulder. “Nothing wrong with wanting it all, honey. And if it’s meant to be, things have a way of falling into place.”

Emma wasn’t so sure about that. She’d been waiting a long time for things to fall into place with the band. How much longer could she wait?

“Enough of these serious thoughts for tonight.” Gran headed for the door. “We have a party to get to.”

“I’ll be right down.”

Gran nodded and walked out leaving the door open.

Giving herself one more look in the mirror, Emma grabbed her purse and left her room. She locked the door, but before she could turn around to go downstairs, a warm, hard body pressed against her from behind.

“I could smell you a mile away, Beast.” She pushed her ass out a little, loving it when Kole growled in her ear at the movement.

“Guess I can never sneak up on you.” He nipped at her neck and snaked his arm around her waist, his hand palming her stomach and pressing her more firmly against him.

Instantly, she wished they were both naked.

Me too, Beauty. Me too.

“But it took some effort to pretty myself up like this and I’m not wasting it.” She leaned her head back onto Kole’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. Turning around in his hold, she used her thumb to brush off the lipstick stain she’d left on his cheek. “Let me look at you.”

He released her and stepped back. The black suit Blaithin had picked out for Kole was absolutely perfect. The jacket hung off his broad shoulders and tapered in at the waist as if it’d been tailored for him. He wore a blue dress shirt under the jacket that made his gorgeous eyes pop. The pants showcased his long legs and Emma twirled her index finger, indicating he should turn around, and aye, the back view was as phenomenal.

“My, aren’t you delicious?” She licked her lips. While she loved a good party, the prospect of coming back to the inn to taste every square inch of Kole held much more appeal.

Kole chuckled softly. “I promise you can have any of this you want later tonight, Beauty. It’s all yours.” He reached out for her hands and held her arms out to her sides. “And if anyone’s delicious, it’s you, my lass. That dress is...” He bit his bottom lip and shook his head. “Words can’t express it, Emma.”

But the look in his fiery blue eyes did.

“Some of us need to get to the stairs, kids. Move it.”

Emma jumped at the sound of Blaithin’s voice. So much for werewolf senses. She was so easily distracted. By Kole.

“Sorry.” Kole shook Blaithin’s outstretched hand in greeting.

“No worries.” Blaithin regarded the two of them for a second. “But shit, aren’t you two like inhumanly beautiful together?”

“Must be the suit you so expertly picked out, Blaithin.” Emma elbowed him. “Thanks, by the way. You done good, lad. Checking what size to get for Kole with Reardon and Jaemus was brilliant.” She took in his gray suit, black dress shirt, and black chapeau covering his sliver spikes and nodded. “You look smashing as well.”

“Wait until you see the other two,” he said. “You won’t recognize them. They look downright civilized.”

“See? We can do this.” Emma was sure putting their image on the back burner for one night was going to be just fine.

“We can, but if we don’t get a move on right now, we’re going to be late.” Blaithin ushered them toward the stairs.

“Where are Torrin and Flynn?” Emma asked. After practicing earlier today, she hadn’t seen either one of them.

“In the van outside. Our stuff is loaded.” Blaithin stopped at the front door with them. “You riding with us or this guy?” He arrowed a thumb at Kole.

“I’d love to escort you and Gran if that’s all right,” Kole said to her.

“Sounds good,” Blaithin said before Emma could answer. “See you on the stage, Emmy Bear.” He dropped a quick kiss on her cheek then stepped out into the night.

Gran came into the foyer with a silver shawl draped over shoulders. “Is the party bus leaving?”

“Aye,” Kole said. “All aboard.”

It took thirty minutes to get to Pine Peaks Marina on Lake Rocquichaw, and when the hall came into view, Emma gasped.

“Wow. This place sure has changed.” She remembered coming as a kid and there’d been a couple of cabins bordering the lake with a rickety dock that housed a few boats. What stood in front of her now was majestic.

Several sturdy docks jutted out into the water like wooden fingers. Boats of all sizes and shapes, motor and sail alike, bobbed lazily in their slips, buoys creaking and rigging clanking like nautical chimes. In the distance, a large sailboat, twinkle lights wrapped around its main mast, coasted by, its sails glowing white in the otherwise dark night.

The hall at the marina was a long building with tons of floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Lake Rocquichaw, which was bordered by towering pines and maples beginning to green. Large columns stood sentinel on either side of huge wooden doors, open at the entrance. Inside, people milled about in their finest clothes, talking, laughing, catching up.

Emma wouldn’t have believed something this fancy could exist in Vermont, but here it was, looking like the places she’d imagined Hendrake playing in for years.

“This is better than Hollywood,” Kole said.

“Have you been to Hollywood?” Gran asked.

“Aye. One of my many stops in looking for my brother.”

Gran gave his shoulder a squeeze then motioned to the front doors of the hall with her chin. “Think you could drop an old lady off at the door?”

Kole pulled the car up to the entrance. “Of course, but I don’t see any old ladies here.”

Gran swatted his arm on the console between them as Emma laughed from the back seat. She’d let Kole drive her car and Gran have the passenger seat even though that put her farther away from Kole. Studying his closely shaven head and bearded profile from the back seat hadn’t been too bad though. The man looked good from every angle.

A valet opened the car door and helped Gran out. Kole signaled he’d park the car himself and the valet pointed to where he could do so. As he pulled away, his blue gaze caught Emma in the rearview mirror.

“Figured we could steal a few moments alone if I park the car myself.”

“Good thinking.” She leaned between the seats and ran her tongue along the rim of his ear, making him release a shuddery breath.

He took the first parking spot he could find then turned to face her, his gaze landing on her lips. “You can paint those again, aye?”

“I supp—” She didn’t even get the words out before his mouth crashed down on hers.

His hand slithered up her cheek and hooked on the back of her neck. She was glad she’d worn her hair up in a twist so she could feel his callused palm against her bare skin.

The kiss was all molten lava within seconds and she almost didn’t give a damn that they were in fancy clothes, or that her bandmates were no doubt waiting for her inside, or that she had a show to put on for the people streaming into the hall. All that mattered at that moment was the feel of this wonderful man’s mouth against her own, the sound of his heart beating in time with hers, the smell that was uniquely her soul mate.

When Kole ended the kiss, he ran his hand over his own mouth and stared at the red staining his fingers.

“Don’t worry,” Emma said. “It’s totally your color. Accentuates your scruff.” She scratched her fingertips on his bristly chin.

He pinched her nose then accepted the wipe she’d handed him from the package she had stowed in the center console. He got rid of the lipstick then rubbed the wipe along her mouth too.

“There. Clean slate for you to reapply.” He stole one more kiss first then waited as she lipsticked herself again.

“I’ve got to run, Beast. Got some prep work to do before performing. Save a seat for me?”

“Wouldn’t want to sit near anyone else, Beauty.”

Blowing him an air kiss, she got out of the car and headed for the back entrance where she’d spotted Hendrake’s van. It had their red skull and shamrock emblem on it, but there was nothing they could do about that. The logo was on Flynn’s drums too. The children from the home would probably like it, but Emma didn’t know about the rest of the crowd. When you call a band on short notice, however, you got what you got. She and the guys would do their best and hope the evening turned out to be a success for everyone.

If it didn’t, the children might suffer with reduced funding.

If it didn’t, Hendrake might not pick up extra fans.

If it didn’t, Emma’s plan to be a grown-up might have to take a different course.

****

Emma walked toward the rear entrance while Kole waited for his dick to deflate. If she kept shaking that ass of hers in the purple dress hugging her behind, he’d be waiting an eternity. Gods, the way he felt about her was insane.

Is love a kind of madness, wolf soldier? Flidae’s question was a mere whisper, mixed with... curiosity. Longing.

Aye. A good madness. He hadn’t been acting like himself over the past few days. Usually a man of few words and fewer interactions with people, he’d spent part of today hanging out with Blaithin and talking motorcycles and music and women. The lad was as nice as they came, showing an interest in many of the things Kole found intriguing in this century. Blaithin had two motorcycles he’d rebuilt himself back at his family’s home in Ireland.

“You haven’t been on a bike trip until you’ve ridden through Ireland’s green hills,” Blaithin had said.

Kole had agreed, letting Blaithin believe he’d done just that. It wasn’t a total lie. He’d ridden through Ireland’s green hills. It’d just been on horseback and with a sword at his hip. He imagined his motorcycle would take kindly to Ireland’s winding, scenic roads. Paved ones in this time of course.

Blaithin enjoyed the list of bands Kole had seen perform on his journey from Alaska to Vermont. The mix was varied with everything from Iron Maiden to Harry Connick, Jr.

“Emma would leave you for Harry, by the way. You should know that so you can make sure they are never in the same vicinity.” Blaithin had smiled when he said that, but quickly followed the comment up with, “I’m not kidding, lad. She’ll go with him.”

Maybe before meeting Kole and becoming a part of the soul mate bond. He didn’t share that with Blaithin though because it sounded overconfident to do so and because he couldn’t explain everything that a soul mate bond meant.

The day had passed quickly between visiting the children’s home, getting a job, stopping by Silver Moon to have Dylan help him fill in the application, chatting with Blaithin, and getting ready for the gala. The only significant disappointment was his trip to the jewelry store. There had to be a way to overcome that though.

Remembering the jewelry shop had un-excited him enough that his cock was no longer ready to poke through his pants. Pants he was actually quite comfortable in. He’d had to pay Blaithin for the suit, but it was worth every penny to see the way Emma’s pupils tripled in size when she’d seen him. She’d no doubt continue to make it worth it later tonight and he was looking forward to that time with every fiber of his being.

Kole got out of Emma’s car and locked it. He made his way to the entrance of the hall, scanning the place before stepping inside.

“Do you always survey before entering?” Nika asked from his left.

“Is it like some kind of soldier thing?” Brandy appeared at his right. “Like, you have to know your surroundings before tossing yourself in?”

“Something like that, aye.” He held out his elbows to each of them. “Walk in with me and let’s start some rumors.”

Both women hooked their arms with him.

He’s stealing our women, Jaemus thought somewhere behind him.

As if he could handle three soul mates. Reardon laughed.

Fuck off, Kole thought.

Boys, behave. Brandy squeezed Kole’s arm and he was about to laugh along with them all, but a blur of bright pink came at him. Something clamped onto his waist, and when he looked down, the top of a blond head filled his view.

The blond head tipped back and big brown eyes blinked up at him. “You’re here!”

Kole released his hold on Brandy and Nika and cupped Kylie’s cheeks. “Of course. Did you think I wouldn’t be?”

Kylie shrugged one shoulder, the pink dress she wore crinkling at the movement. “I wasn’t sure. Adults don’t always do what they say they will.” Her grip loosened around him, but he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

I will always do what I say I will. That’s a promise, he thought.

She definitely heard him because she tightened her arms—with a little extra werewolf strength Kole suspected.

He peeled her away. “Now who dressed you?”

“A fashion expert?” Nika asked. “Your dress is incredible, Kylie.”

Kylie smoothed her hands down the front of the pink dress, preening like a bird. Kole didn’t know much about female clothing, but this dress was like something a princess might wear. The short sleeves rested right on the edge of her shoulders. The top part was made of puckered material that reminded Kole of the popcorn Dylan and Kylie had been eating while watching a movie. Only it was pink. Very pink. The skirt part of the dress came down long to Kylie’s ankles and the fabric swished when she moved. It too was pink. Very pink. On her feet were matching pink dress shoes with a tiny heel.

The girl’s hair had been curled into long, loose coils, some of which were gathered together at the back of her head with a glittery clip.

“Emma sent me this dress.” Kylie wrapped her arms around herself in a hug. “And I love it.” She looked around Kole. “Where is she? I have to say thank you.”

Kole’s chest warmed at his soul mate’s kindness. She had made magic for this little lass and that made him love her all the more. “She’s with her bandmates, but she’ll be out here for the dinner.”

“Can I sit with you guys?” Kylie asked.

“Hmm.” Kole rubbed his beard, pretending to think and Brandy and Nika chuckled. “You won’t spill anything on my new suit, will you?”

Kylie shook her head vigorously, her curls springing around her shoulders.

“You won’t burp at the table or talk with your mouth full?”

She giggled. “I live in a children’s home, not a zoo.” She put her hands on her hips and angled her head at him. “I do have some manners.”

“Good. Maybe you can teach him some.” Reardon came to stand in their circle, Jaemus right next to him, and Dylan wiggled between the two men.

Kylie’s hands slipped off her hips as she got a look at Dylan. The lad was cleaned up like the rest of them, wearing a crisp pair of navy blue dress pants and a striped dress shirt. Tucked in even. His blond hair had been combed into submission, and if Kole’s nose didn’t deceive him, he smelled some cologne on the boy.

“You have no idea how he squirmed during all that.” Brandy waved a finger from the boy’s head down to his toes and back up again. “It took me and my mother double-teaming him to accomplish the task.”

“Looks as if he appreciates the effort now.” Kole motioned to Dylan who was positively soaking up Kylie’s inspection of him.

“Oh, good heavens. They’re only eleven.” But Brandy shuffled forward and herded Dylan toward an appetizer table to break the spell between her son and Kylie.

“Let’s claim this table.” Jaemus squinted an eye around the room. “By my calculations, it’s the one closest to the hall’s kitchens. Maybe we’ll be served dinner first.”

“That’s my guy.” Nika threw an arm around Jaemus’s waist. “Always thinking with his stomach.”

The group chose seats at the table Jaemus had selected. Kole saved one for Emma then pulled out the one on the other side of him.

“Miss Kylie. For you.”

She beamed a smile up at him and climbed into the seat, fussing with her dress a little.

“Tough being a princess, aye?”

“I could get used to it.”

Kole pulled out his chair, but then spotted Gran. “I’ll be right back.” When he caught up to her, he asked, “Would you like to sit with us over there?” He pointed back to the table where Kylie waved to them.

Gran waved back. “Oh, I would love to, dear. Thank you.”

He escorted her to their table where she fawned all over Kylie, showering her with compliments and instantly launching into stories about Emma and how much she hated dresses as a little girl. Kole laughed so hard he thought he might hurt himself. The best was hearing Kylie laugh though. He could listen to that sound over and over again and never get tired of it.

Gran continued her tales when the rest of Kole’s family took their seats, and soon everyone was roaring at Emma’s expense. She was going to kill Gran when she found out. He definitely wanted to hear Emma’s version of the mud-covered First Communion dress. Gran had painted a picture of a black-haired little lass, looking as “pretty as an angel” only to end up “as dirty as a pig” after Emma had rolled in mud in protest while wearing the white dress.

“Such a child, my Emma. Such a child.” Gran wiped her eyes with a napkin.

“This sounds like the fun table.” Mrs. Rubisson rested her hands on the back of Kylie’s chair. “Look at that smile, Kylie. I love seeing it. Did you make some new friends here?”

“Yes, Mrs. Rubisson.” She motioned to Reardon, Brandy, Dylan, Jaemus, and Nika. “Well, I already knew them. But Kole is new.”

Kole liked how it sounded as if Kylie were collecting friends and he was now among them.

“Emma in the band is a new friend too,” Kylie said.

“Wonderful.” Mrs. Rubisson gave Kole a knowing glance. “Enjoy your evening, folks, and thank you so much for your support.”

Mrs. Rubisson wandered off to mingle with other guests, and Kole was glad that if Kylie couldn’t be with him and Emma yet, at least Mrs. Rubisson was looking out for her.

“Yeah, she’s nice,” Kylie said. At Kole’s raised brow, Kylie’s cheeks pinked. “Uh, sorry. You didn’t say that out loud, did you?”

Kole shook his head and moved a little closer to her so he could whisper, “How are you managing? I know the transition was tough for me, but I’m not a natural werewolf like you. Do you have a headache? Are you super hungry?”

“Yes to both of those questions, but the headache is going away.” She blushed. “Mrs. Rubisson did ask me why I kept wanting snacks though.”

“You know how important it is that you hide what you are, right? Reardon explained everything to you, didn’t he?”

Kylie nodded. “I understand. I’ll be careful.”

“Good.” Kole exhaled. Kylie wouldn’t have to be careful all the time if she were with him and Emma. Frustrated, he did the one thing he could do for the lass. “Let’s get some food.”

They browsed the appetizer table where absolutely everything looked mouthwatering. He and Kylie devised a strategy where they divided and conquered. She started at one end of the table gathering samples and he the other. When they met in the middle, they had a good assortment to share.

They set their plates on the table and Kole went off to get them some drinks. A line snaked away from the bar, so he had to wait for his turn. That gave him a chance to go back to his scan of the crowd, which Brandy and Nika hadn’t let him finish. Many children made up the group, but which ones were from the home and which were with guests, he couldn’t tell. No doubt a good thing. It meant the children at the home were being well cared for despite their lack of families. He wondered if any of the families here tonight might want to adopt as he and Emma did.

That thought made him pause. What if someone else—someone with a good job, a comfortable home, and a fine wife—wanted Kylie? He was certain something would be missing from his life if Kylie wasn’t a part of it.

Now money and how to get some cycled in his head again. The construction job was a good start, but he wouldn’t gather the riches he needed fast enough.

His line of thinking was interrupted when a man standing behind him knocked into him. “Oh, sorry, man. I thought you moved forward.”

“Not yet. Slow line.”

“We’re likely to die of thirst.” The man chuckled and went back to his conversation with the man standing next to him. “So they round up a couple of guys and let them fight it out?”

“Yeah, dude. It’s crazy. My cousin is doing it.”

“The ex-football player?”

“Those are the guys they want. Big, muscled apes who won’t go down easy. They call it the K.O. Klub.”

“K.O.?”

“For knock out. They fight until someone’s unconscious. If that ain’t you, you’re the winner. That’s like the only rule aside from no weapons can be used. Pretty much anything else goes, and the money is crazy good.”

“But you’re likely to get your ass broken.”

“Not if you know how to fight.”

Kole knew how to fight.

Chapter Thirteen

Hendrake had never played for a crowd this big. Emma peeked from back stage and a giddy excitement coursed through her veins. They were doing a low-fat version of their show, but knowing all those people were about to hear them play made her feel ten feet tall.

“You nervous?” Torrin squeezed his head right next to hers, their cheeks almost touching.

“No. You?”

He shook his head, and they both stepped back. Torrin had done some good work on his appearance tonight as well. His usually floppy blond hair had been slicked back into place and his beard had been neatly trimmed. Like Blaithin and Flynn, he had on a gray suit with a black dress shirt. On the lapel of his jacket, however, he’d affixed a silver skull pin.

“A hint at what lies beneath our cleaner version,” he said when he saw her staring at the pin.

Grinning, Emma pulled aside the left shoulder of her dress to reveal her bra strap—one that had white skulls on a purple background.

“Nice.” Torrin’s gaze lingered so Emma righted her dress.

“Five minutes,” one of the gala coordinators informed them.

Torrin stared at her, angling his head one way and then the other. “You look happy.”

“I am happy.”

“Kole makes you happy? That guy does it for you?” He slid his hands into his pockets and studied his feet.

Emma tipped his head up with a finger to his chin. “He does, but there are so many different brands of happy, Torrin. You, Blaithin, and Flynn also make me happy. In a different way.” She grabbed his hands and squeezed. “I need you guys. You know that, aye?”

“Aye.” He leaned forward and for a second, Emma thought he was going to kiss her on the lips. Instead, he went for her cheek, pressing a soft peck there. A friendly peck. “Let’s do this.”

Blaithin and Flynn went out first, taking up their instruments. Torrin followed next, guitar in hand. By the time Emma came out with her fiddle and took her place by the lead microphone, the crowd had gone quiet. That silence made Emma feel like a shaken bottle, ready to pop, and gush her excitement all over the place.

She scanned the room and found Kole sitting with his family, Gran, and Kylie. He winked one crystal blue eye at her and the fizz inside her intensified.

Kylie waved and she grinned back, loving how delighted the child was to be seated amongst such wonderful company. The dress Emma had sent her looked adorable on the lass as she knew it would.

Kole had said one of the requirements for anyone looking to adopt a child from the home was a job. He’d secured one today with his cousins, and if Emma could get more gigs like this one for Hendrake, perhaps she could make music the real job she’d always wanted it to be. Maybe she didn’t have to give up this dream to pursue other dreams. Maybe she could really have it all.

Taking a deep breath and giving Gran a smile, Emma ran her bow along her fiddle and the lads joined in at their cues. In no time, that hall was rocking—in a much tamer way—with Hendrake tunes. People wiggled in their seats, bounced their legs, and tapped their feet with the rhythm of the songs. As far as Emma could tell, everyone was enjoying their performance, which gave her the drive to play on.

With kids in the audience, they’d decided to do a little Irish step dance lesson at the halfway point in their set so the children could get up and release their jiggles.

“Good evening, everyone,” she said after they finished their song. “Are we having fun yet?”

Applause rose from the group, thundering compared to the smaller venues Hendrake normally played.

“Good, good. Now I’d like all the kids out there,” Emma squinted one eye at the crowd and pointed a finger at some of the nearby children, “to come on out to this area right in front of the stage.” She waved her hand over a rectangle of flooring that she’d requested be kept clear.

Chairs scraped against hardwood as children vacated their seats and came to the spot Emma had indicated. Some of them clung to each other as if not entirely sure they wanted to be up there.

“No need to be nervous,” Torrin said into his mic. “She only eats children on Wednesdays.”

The adults in the audience chuckled as Emma grinned. Blaithin slid his stool away from her and Flynn held up his drumsticks like a shield.

“Lucky today is Saturday,” she said. “Everyone is safe.” She glared over her shoulder at Torrin. “Well, maybe not everyone.”

More laughter from the crowd as Torrin hugged his guitar with a fearful expression on his face.

“Okay, lads and lasses, here’s what we’re going to do.” Emma set her fiddle down and pulled her microphone out of its stand. She went down the narrow stairs at the right of the stage to join the children at ground level. “These lads are going to play some music for us and I’m going to show you some Irish step dances. Just do what I do. You ready?”

A buzz rose from the kids as they fanned out and prepared to follow her lead.

Out of the corner of her eye, Emma spotted Mrs. Rubisson with her camera. Good. The children at the home deserved some captured memories they could recall when life got challenging.

Emma gave Blaithin a salute and he made his pipes wail under his arm. Flynn and Torrin joined in and soon an upbeat ditty echoed in the hall. She slowly demonstrated some simple steps, making sure the children were following along. After building a short sequence that they easily mastered, she signaled for the guys to restart the music.

Into her mic she said, “Looks like we got it now. Here we go!”

The clomping of their shoes was a little off, but the smiles were huge and that was what mattered most. Bright faces and giggles.

This is great!

To Emma’s right, Kylie danced along beside her. Are you having fun?

The most I ever had. Kylie threw her arms around Emma’s waist and squeezed. Thank you for this dress.

You’re the prettiest lass here.

Kylie shook her head as her feet pounded out the dance steps. Nope. We both are the prettiest. That’s what Kole said.

Emma glanced back to where Kole still sat at the table with his family and Gran. She was close enough to him that she could hear his thoughts. They said only one thing over and over again.

I love Emma. I love Emma. I love Emma.

Impressed with how he could be so singularly focused on that one thought, she sent a smile his way then finished the dance with the children. When she faced them, she clapped and said, “Wow! You guys are naturals.” She pointed at the adults in the audience. “What do you all think?”

A standing ovation followed as the children scurried back to their tables. Kylie gave Emma one more hug before galloping back to Kole.

Emma climbed the stairs and took her spot behind the lead mic. Pretending to wipe her brow, she said, “Now that we’ve gotten some exercise, how about a few more tunes?”

Hendrake finished their set to receive hoots and whistles along with applause. As they exited backstage, waiters and waitresses filtered out of the kitchen with trays piled high with salads.

“I’m just going to say it.” Blaithin set his pipes down. “We. Were. Awesome.” He high-fived Flynn, Torrin, then grabbed Emma and dropped her into a low dip, making her squeal.

“We were born to do this.” Torrin ran his hands through his hair, frowning when he realized he was ruining the style.

“That crowd loved us.” Flynn pulled at his dress shirt. He’d removed his suit jacket before sitting behind his drum kit. Out of all of them, he was the one who worked up the biggest sweat on stage. Even with their toned-down version tonight, his shirt was wet with perspiration. “I need a new shirt.”

“I packed you a second one,” Emma said.

“Thanks, Mom.” He shot her a grin and disappeared out the back door to go to their van and change.

“Let’s get out there and eat.” Blaithin took a drink from a water bottle, but motioned to the main hall with his free hand. “I’m starving.”

They started for the tables, but Nika appeared in front of them. Her hands were full of small paper rectangles.

“You guys were fantastic!” She dumped the paper rectangles into Emma’s hands.

Business cards?

“Those are all the people out there who want to hire you for their next functions, whatever they might be.” Nika shook Emma by the biceps. “Hendrake is a hit!”

Whirling around, Nika hustled back to her table, leaving Emma, Blaithin, and Torrin standing motionless, staring at the business cards still in Emma’s hands.

Flynn walked up to them, sporting a fresh black dress shirt. “What are we waiting for? Isn’t it chow time?”

Emma moved and three of the cards fluttered to the ground. Flynn bent to pick them up.

“What are these?”

“Those, my friend,” Torrin said, his smile widening by the second, “are Hendrake’s future. Paying customers.”

Flynn scratched at his head. “But all these people like the watered down version of us. Is that what we want?”

“Yes!” all three remaining band members said.

Torrin puffed out a breath. “Look at it this way, if we can bank some money and gain some recognition, then we can do what we really want later. Now is the time to ride whatever momentum happens our way. This is the first wave, people.”

“Get out your surfboards, dudes.” Blaithin pantomimed surfing with his hands out to his sides and his knees bent.

Emma couldn’t disagree. If everyone on those business cards spilling out of her hands wanted to hire them, this Hendrake thing could turn into a real job.

A real job meant a real Kylie with Kole and her.

Kole. She had to tell him the great news.

Dividing the business cards among the guys to put in their pockets as she didn’t have any on her dress, Emma led them out to the main hall where the four of them broke off in different directions. They’d been asked by the organizer of the event to take seats separately at guest tables to liven things up and mingle. They’d received extra payment for the request so they weren’t about to turn that down.

Arriving at the table where Kole had saved her a seat, she accepted kind words about Hendrake’s performance from his family, Gran, and Kylie.

But where is Kole?

“He had to leave.” Kylie looked up at Emma. “He said he had a headache.”

“Oh.” Emma was disappointed, but she knew he suffered from bad headaches when in human form for too long. She’d hoped he was cured of them as he’d said he felt better around her, but maybe being on the stage was too far away for the soul mate magic to work. Poor baby.

“We can eat his share,” Jaemus said, making Kylie and Dylan giggle.

“Or I could take his share back to the inn for him to eat when he’s feeling better,” Emma said.

“That would be the nice thing to do,” Gran said, patting her hand. “That boy always looks hungry.”

You have no idea, Reardon thought, raising an eyebrow and grinning at Emma.

Salads arrived at their table as Emma took her seat next to Kylie. She wished the seat on her other side wasn’t empty, but warmed knowing that when she had last read Kole’s thoughts they had been about how much he loved her.

I love you too, Kole. So much. And she’d show him—again—how much when she crawled into his bed later.

Until then, there was a feast to enjoy.

****

I love Emma. I love Emma. I love Emma. With each step Kole took down a shadowy dirt path toward a rundown steel building, those words cycled in his head. Only the fact that he loved her would have him doing what he was about to do.

When he’d heard about the K.O. Klub from those lads in line at the gala, he knew that was his ticket to some fast money. He could easily fight a few guys and gather the riches. Gods, he’d even let his opponents get in a couple of punches to make it look like a true match.

Getting the details had been easy. He’d turned around to face the guys and said, “I’m sorry to eavesdrop, but I’ve heard of this club too.”

The man who had the cousin fighting in the club, had smacked the back of his hand against his friend’s shoulder. “See, dude? I told you it was real.” He’d turned back to Kole. “Totally nuts, right? Beating the shit out of someone for cash?” He’d rolled his eyes. “Although, my cousin just bought a huge house in Newport, Rhode Island, right on the water, which I know he wasn’t able to afford a few months ago. He’d squandered his football earnings on expensive trips and even more expensive women. Complete tool.”

“I imagine someone with rocks in his head does quite well at using other people as punching bags.”

Kole’s two new friends had chuckled and nodded.

“True enough. So every Saturday night, he goes to the steelyard in Appleton, bloodies a few guys up, and collects his reward.”

Steelyard in Appleton. And today was Saturday. What was Flidae always saying about Destiny?

“Well, I’m sticking to my day job,” the other guy had said. “I bleed too easy to get my face smashed repeatedly.

“What can I get you?” the bartender had asked Kole. Somehow in his conversing, the line had moved along.

He’d ordered drinks for him and Kylie and had headed back to the table, but not before reciting the I love Emma mantra in his head. All he had to do was think about the K.O. Klub once and Reardon, Jaemus, Brandy, and Kylie would hear about it. Maybe even Emma, but she’d seemed pretty focused on her performance.

A performance that had rocked. Gods, she was talented. The entire band was, but he of course only concentrated on her. The way she made that fiddle sing and the lovely sound of her magical voice made Hendrake outstanding. Kole had surveyed the hall to find every guest—child and adult alike—completely enthralled by the show.

He’d seen both flavors of Hendrake. While the vampire, grittier, darker version was enjoyable, something about this muted edition showcased them as skilled musicians. Their voices were clearer, their instruments purer. Their talent poured forth in every note, every lyric.

And Emma was breathtaking up there on stage in that purple dress, her black hair and blue eyes shimmering in the spotlights. It had taken all Kole’s control to remain seated while she played. When she’d taught the kids the Irish step dance, he fell deeper in love with her.

I love Emma. I love Emma. I love Emma.

It hadn’t been all that hard to keep that thought in his mind because no thought had ever been truer.

That was why he needed this money. Needed this fight. For Emma. For Kylie.

He stood before a rusted steel door slightly off one of its hinges. Cars and motorcycles were parked to the side of the building, but most of the vehicles were large pickup trucks. That gave Kole a sense of the men that signed up to do this. Big men. Who needed big trucks to haul themselves around in.

No problem. Kole was a big man too. Plus he had the added bonus of knowing how to overpower other men in battle. He didn’t have a sword or a spear, but he’d always been better at using his hands anyway. His werewolf strength was helpful as well.

He pulled open the door enough to slip inside. Another set of double doors greeted him, and behind them hummed the low din of activity. Pushing one of those doors open, he stepped across the threshold into a room lit by dirty lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. In the center was a brighter light, and the sounds of fists hitting flesh echoed back to him. Guys were crowded around that bright light, arms raised and gruff cheering making its own thunder in the room.

“What do you want?” a raspy voice asked him.

Sitting on a stool to the left of the door was an old guy with a long, silver beard and a black bandana tied around his head. His eyes were a dead gray and his leathery cheeks were pocked and scarred.

Reminding himself why he needed to do this, Kole said, “I want to fight.”

The old guy looked him up and down, wiggling a toothpick between his dry lips. “You got experience?”

“Aye. I was a soldier.” That was what Dylan had told him to write on his job application. The lad had said Reardon and Jaemus had done the same and it’d worked for them. It also wasn’t a complete lie. He’d, in fact, been more than a soldier. He’d been a warrior.

“You sure you want to wreck that pretty face?”

“Is that how your face got to look like that?” Kole folded his arms across his chest, which he knew plumped up his biceps some.

The man let out a phlegm-filled laugh and slapped a hand on his knee. “Maybe it is.” He reached behind him to a shelf and handed Kole a paper and a pen. “Fill this in.”

“What is it?” Kole could read a little, but not well.

“It tells us who to call if you die here tonight.”

“Oh.”

Reardon would be the best person to handle such news, but he didn’t want to put Reardon’s actual name down. He didn’t want this place to have any ties to anyone he cared about.

He crumpled the paper. “If I die, burn me.”

The man took the pen back. “Torched. Got it.” He said it as if Kole wasn’t the first guy to request this kind of disposal.

What am I doing here?

“Okay, so you got a fight name?” The guy took out another paper and uncapped the pen, the tip hovering.

“A fight name?”

“Yeah, something the announcer can use to introduce you. Gets the crowd all jacked up and ready to lay their bets. The more they bet, the more money you can make.”

Again, Kole didn’t want to give any real names, so he said, “Beast. Call me Beast.”

A low chuckle rose out of the guy as he scratched the pen along the paper. Handing it to Kole, he said, “Give this to that trashy-looking redhead over there, Beast. She’ll get you on the roster.”

Kole took the paper and maneuvered through the throngs of guys packed in the building. He easily found the woman the old man had mentioned. She was the only woman in the joint from what Kole could see and her hair was definitely red. Not a red he’d ever seen occur in nature though.

“My, you’ve clearly never done this before.” She arrowed a thumb to the brightly lit area where two men grunted and spat and bled and... gods, are they biting each other?

“What makes you say that?” Kole handed her the paper with his new fight name on it.

“Honey, have you seen yourself?” She licked her bright pink lips and fluttered her extra-long eyelashes. “The brutes that come a-fighting in here usually have faces that look as if they’ve been run over by tank treads. They’ve had their faces rearranged one too many times. But you...” She let her voice trail off and licked her lips again.

Kole kept his gaze on hers. He could see her ample bosom on display in the scrap of a shirt she wore, but he wasn’t going to be caught taking a peek at the free show. No way in hell. Besides, this chick was so not his type. He much preferred the more natural, classy beauty that radiated from Emma.

The woman shook her head. “It’s going to be a shame watching you get all broken up, sweetheart.”

“Who says I’ll be the one to get broken?”

She laughed, a shrill, grating noise accompanied by the jiggling of her chest. “The new guys always go down,” she read the paper he’d given her, “Beast. That name won’t keep their fists from smashing you.”

“I might surprise you.”

“Honey, you have. Just by walking in here.” She motioned him to come closer then leaned in. “A guy like you doesn’t belong with this trash. Get out of here while you still can.”

“I can’t do that. Need some cash. Fast.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Oh. Into the drugs, are ya?”

“No. Nothing like that. Just need to get onto the next phase of things and money is the only way to do that.”

“Isn’t that always the way?” She sighed and copied his name onto her roster. “Okay, gorgeous. You’re on the schedule. Listen for your name.”

He turned to walk closer to the main area and get a better look at what he might be up against, but the woman’s voice stopped him.

“Beast?”

“Aye?”

“Give ‘em everything you got and pray for the best.” Underneath all that makeup, her green eyes were kind.

He gave her a nod and let the crowd swallow him for a few moments until he emerged closer to the main area. Two men wrestled each other on the ground until the snap of bone and the blood-curdling scream of a man with a severe break in his leg vibrated the walls.

But he wasn’t knocked out yet, so the fight had to keep going.

The screamer managed to get to his feet, though Kole was sure actual bone stuck out of the man’s leg. A muffled howl escaped the man’s throat as he hopped around the arena, blood dripping down his leg. The pain had to have been incredible, but he sailed a couple of punches into his opponent until that guy fell to his knees, then face first to the cement floor. When he didn’t get up, another man jumped into the ring and held up the screamer’s arm in victory.

“Lightning wins this round,” he announced.

The crowd around Kole went absolutely wild as “Lightning” hopped around on one leg, his teeth clenched into an odd smile.

“You quitting here, Lightning, or are you ready to try someone else on for size?” the announcer asked.

Lightning inspected his injured leg. Bone definitely jutted through his skin and blood poured freely down his ankle. “I think I better cash in and call it a night.” He looked around the audience with feral brown eyes. “Which one of you bastards is going to take me to the hospital? I rode my bike here tonight. I ain’t riding with this leg.”

Someone pushed through the crowd and collected Lightning, but not before the announcer stuffed a large roll of green into Lightning’s hand.

Money. Lots of it.

Lightning kissed the wad of cash and stumbled alongside his friend. As the crowd parted to make a passage for the pair, Lightning accepted handshakes and claps on the back.

At least they’re a supportive mob.

“Next up we have Rage versus Crunch,” the announced yelled. “Place your bets.”

A beehive of activity whirled up around Kole as cash waved in the air and wagers were placed on Rage or Crunch. In the meantime, two men came out of a side door and picked up the man who Lightning had knocked out. They carried him out the door they’d come in—leaving a bloody smear on the cement floor—and Kole wondered what would become of him.

He knew he was crazy for doing this, but he desperately wanted Emma and Kylie to be his. If only he had access to his riches back in Ireland in the fortress he shared with the other men in Reardon’s army. What had become of his accumulated wealth anyway?

Thieves spent your riches, wolf soldier.

Kole froze at Flidae’s voice. Would she try to stop him from what he was doing?

I’m too curious to see the outcome to stop you, she said in his head. Being a goddess rarely offers such entertainment. Just don’t kill your opponent.

Kole wasn’t sure if he should be relieved she wasn’t going to intervene or disappointed. Clearly, he needed someone to talk some sense into him, but that wasn’t going to happen. Not here. Not now.

“Bets are closed,” the announcer said. “Please welcome Rage to the ring.”

Rage was a huge man with skin the color of night. Kole had never seen skin so dark or eyes so white. The guy’s head was completely bald and shiny in the overhead lighting. He growled at the crowd, and Kole was instantly reminded of a grizzly bear. He’d seen a few while with the wolves in Alaska and this guy looked as if he could wrestle a salmon from one easily.

Though Rage was muscular—everywhere—Kole noted he was bulky and not likely to move fast. If he were in the ring with this lad, he’d surprise him with quick, powerful strikes and make sure to keep moving around in hopes of exhausting the behemoth.

After raising his massive arms in the air and getting the crowd to literally howl in anticipation, Rage stepped to one corner of the ring.

“And put your hands together for our reigning champion, Crunch!” the announcer yelled.

Crunch stepped into the ring.

But Kole knew this man by another name.

Chapter Fourteen

“Promise you’ll come see me tomorrow.” Kylie looked up at Emma with big, brown eyes that a person couldn’t say no to.

“I promised six times.” Emma hugged the girl. “I told some of the other children I’d show them more Irish step dances.”

Kylie’s arms tightened around Emma’s waist, making Emma’s eyes sting. She’d spent the entire dinner portion of the evening with the lass, listening to her school stories, watching her look at Dylan without trying to look as if she was looking at Dylan, discussing long, thick hair problems they had in common, and generally falling in love with the kid. Blaithin had come over at one point and dazzled Kylie with a sneak peek under his hat at his silver hair which was only mildly-spiked under there.

It warmed Emma’s heart to see Kylie smile and laugh all night. Mrs. Rubisson agreed.

“Why, I’ve never seen that child sparkle like that,” she’d said after motioning Emma aside. “She’s always been so sullen.”

“I’m glad she’s having a good time tonight.”

“Me too.” Mrs. Rubisson had clasped her hands behind her back, a contemplative look in her face. “Listen, I know Mr. McMannus is interested in adopting Kylie. You are with him, right?”

“Aye, we’re seeing each other.” Seeing each other? That was a gross misrepresentation of what she and Kole had, but she didn’t have the right words to explain it to Mrs. Rubisson in a way that didn’t sound crazy. “He mentioned he saw you earlier today and you told him a few things that needed to happen before we would be considered appropriate guardian choices for Kylie. We’ll work on those things.”

Mrs. Rubisson had smiled. “Good. The interactions between the three of you I’ve observed tonight make me want this to happen.” She’d given Emma’s forearm a little squeeze and meandered off to visit other tables.

Emma had wanted to tell Kole what Mrs. Rubisson had said, but he was back at the inn, suffering from a headache. One she probably could make go away for him.

Squeezing Kylie once more, she released the lass and bent down so they were eye to eye. She hooked her hand on Kylie’s waist and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Kylie skittered off to where Dylan stood with Reardon and Jaemus. She gave Emma a quick wave before grabbing Dylan’s arm and dragging him over to a circle of children near another table.

“I thought you didn’t want children.” Suddenly Gran was at Emma’s side.

“I’m not sure I want to give birth to one, but that one’s already made.” Emma pointed toward Kylie.

“Convenient.” Gran watched Kylie and the other children for a quiet moment. “I couldn’t help but notice Kole was very interested in that lass too. He was wonderful with her.”

Another wave of warmth flooded through Emma, knowing how much Kole wanted Kylie to be happy. Happy with them.

“Let’s see if we can get a ride home,” Emma said. “I should check on Kole and his headache.”

Gran nodded and before Emma could move, Jaemus came over. “I’ll take you lasses home. No problem.”

“How did you know we were about to ask for a ride?” Gran’s face scrunched up in bewilderment.

Jaemus’s golden-brown eyes flicked to Emma then back to Gran. “Nika and I were readying to leave and I rememberd Kole mentioning he’d have to take Emma’s car to go back to the inn.”

“So you’re our knight in shining armor then?” Gran grabbed her shawl and purse off her chair.

“He does love being a knight.” Nika looped her arm around Jaemus’s and blinked up at him.

“I don’t know how shiny my armor is though.” Jaemus dropped a kiss on the top of Nika’s head then turned to Emma. “Shall we?”

“Aye. Thank you.” She retrieved her purse, gave her bandmates the signal she was leaving, and followed Jaemus, Nika, and Gran outside.

When they were all settled in Jaemus’s truck and on their way, Nika asked, “Are you going to call all those people on the business cards, Emma?”

“Aye. We pretty much made a band decision backstage tonight that any business was good business.”

Nika reached over and squeezed Emma’s hand. “I’m so glad good came of this night for you guys. You got my friend out of a jam by playing on such short notice.”

“Thanks for thinking of Hendrake. We appreciate the opportunity.”

She and the guys would have to sort out those business cards and make a battle plan. There was probably enough work right here in Vermont for a little while. Was that Fate helping her along? Keeping her in one place?

The ride back to Deer Creek Inn passed in a sleepy silence. It had been a long night, but a wonderful one. The only thing that would have made it better was if Kole had been there for the dinner part. Emma missed having him by her side.

After saying goodbye and thanks to Jaemus and Nika, Emma led Gran inside and upstairs. Gran let out a yawn at the top of the stairs.

“My stars, old ladies shouldn’t be out this late.” She stopped at the beginning of the hall that led to the suite of rooms she kept as her personal living space.

“Afraid you’ll turn into a pumpkin soon?” Emma teased, halting in front of her own door.

“Maybe so. Good night, dear.”

“Good night, Gran.”

Emma waited until Gran had gotten all the way down the hall and turned the corner before backtracking to Kole’s door. She knocked gently, not wanting to startle him if he were asleep. When no answer came she tried the doorknob, surprised when it turned in her grip. She opened the door and poked her head in.

“Kole?”

Light from the parking lot outside streamed into the windows. The blinds had not been closed. Kole’s bed was empty.

Thinking maybe his headache had made sleeping difficult, Emma headed back downstairs and out to the back porch, but Kole wasn’t there either.

Where are you? she thought, trying to establish a link with Kole’s mind.

No response came back to her, so he wasn’t close by. Or he was ignoring her.

Rifling around in her purse, Emma sat on the porch swing and pulled out her phone. She fired off a text to Kole, shaking her head at having to use old-fashioned methods to contact him.

Back at inn. Where are you? Want to make you feel better.

She set the phone on her thigh and swung while she waited for a reply. A few moments later, the phone buzzed in her lap.

Needed something for headache.

Poor lad. Gran probably had something at the inn.

I’ve got something for your headache...

He sent her back a heart icon. Be back soon to try your remedy.

She ended with XOXO and put her phone back in her purse. Resting her head back, she swung a little more, enjoying the crispness of the night air. Vermont sure smelled wonderful. Or was that her heightened werewolf sense of smell? She could even smell the flowers bordering the porch that hadn’t bloomed yet.

“Here she is.”

Emma sat up when Flynn plopped down on the swing beside her.

“What are we doing out here?” he asked as Torrin and Blaithin came onto the porch and took seats across from her.

“Chilling.” She noted that each of the guys were in various states of unfancifying themselves. Flynn had a T-shirt on with his suit pants now, his second black dress shirt gone, as were his dress shoes. He angled into the corner of the swing and propped one of his stocking feet onto the seat between him and Emma.

Blaithin had gotten rid of his suit coat, his dress shirt still on but unbuttoned and flapped open. He’d also lost his hat, his silver spikes jutting out, but not as high as when he used more product in them. He was crunching loudly on an apple.

“How are you even eating that?” Torrin asked. His black dress shirt was untucked and he’d changed from his dress pants to a pair of faded, comfortable jeans. His hair was back to its floppy self, all the hair gel apparently combed out, or if Emma knew Torrin—and she did—he’d raked his fingers through his hair without realizing it.

“An apple a day keeps the doctor away.” Blaithin continued crunching on his next bite.

“Where’s Kole?” Flynn asked, his other leg rocking the swing.

Kicking off her heels and letting Flynn move the swing, Emma set her purse on a side table. “He went to get something to relieve his headache.”

“Must have been some headache,” Torrin said.

“He gets them sometimes.” Emma pictured herself massaging Kole’s aches away in his bed as soon as he got back. She couldn’t wait to touch him again. Had it only been earlier today that they’d pleasured each other? Why did it seem as if she’d been waiting forever to be pleasured again?

I have it so bad for him. Under any other circumstances, she’d be putting the brakes on this whole thing with Kole. She wasn’t used to being completely swept away by another person. It’d never been that way with Torrin.

She hoped Torrin would find someone who would feel about him the way she felt about Kole. She wished that for all the guys actually.

But are humans capable of this kind of love?

Flidae laughed in Emma’s head. Hardly. The soul mate bond is unique to werewolves. Even the gods and goddesses don’t feel such emotions.

Sucks to be a divine being then, Emma thought.

Flidae didn’t respond right away, but Emma sensed the goddess was still... plugged in to her mind. I can feel the power each time one of my wolves bonds with their soul mates. It’s not as potent as what you feel, but it’s... something.

For the first time since being turned into a werewolf, Emma felt bad for Flidae. What must it be like to not have the opportunity to find one’s soul mate and feel the depth of that love?

Lonely. With that one word, Flidae left Emma’s mind.

“What do you think, Emma?” Flynn nudged her with his toe.

“About what?” She’d checked out of their conversation.

Torrin rolled his eyes, no doubt thinking she’d been fantasizing about Kole—which wouldn’t have been a bad way to spend a few minutes. “About sorting through some of these cards right now?” He motioned to the collage of business cards littering the table in front of Torrin’s and Blaithin’s seats.

“I say let’s do it,” Blaithin said. “I’m too keyed up to sleep.”

“Aye.” Emma put her feet on the ground as Flynn stopped swinging and they both leaned over the cards.

“Let’s make categories,” Flynn suggested. “Like by profession, I guess.”

Liking that plan, they sifted through the cards, making piles of bankers and organic chemists and shop owners and a dozen or so other occupations.

When Torrin let out a whoop, everyone’s hands froze over the cards.

“What’s that about?” Blaithin asked.

Torrin stood, his head nodding and his smile growing exponentially.

“Is he about to lose his marbles?” Flynn shook his head and went back to sorting.

“No one is losing anything, my friends. We are only winning.” He waved the business card he held and read, “Vix Brendyn, DJ, 104PYK Radio.”

“A radio station?” Blaithin popped up from his seat and plucked the card from Torrin’s hand. He stared at it, his eyes unblinking.

“It has writing on the back.” Emma pointed then took the card from Blaithin and flipped it over. “Phenomenal show. Want to give Hendrake air time. Call me tomorrow.” It was signed with a heart and an elegantly scrawled Vix.

****

Kole watched in horror as his brother, known as Crunch to the crowd, stalked around the ring, growling. Literally growling. The audience took it as the theatrical entrance they wanted it to be, but Kole knew Shawn was calling his wolf to the surface, enough to give him an edge without shifting to wolfman or full wolf.

The physical change in Shawn since Kole had last seen him on the shores of Ireland before Flidae had banished them all was astounding. He still had the same light brown hair, but it was longer and tied back in a low ponytail, a few pieces loose and hanging down to his jaw. His body was more muscular though, as if Shawn had spent the months they’d been apart body-building to add to his werewolf strength. He wore black sweatpants and combat boots, but no shirt, his battle scars giving off a don’t-mess-me-with air.

The biggest difference, however, was Shawn’s eyes. Once a pale gray-blue—like their mother’s—that hinted at a softer side to the man, his eyes were now steely and bloodshot and menacing.

“Okay, men.” The announcer pointed to the corners of the ring and waited for the two opponents to get in position. “Let’s do this.”

On a whistle, the audience went insane as Rage and Shawn circled around each other like wild animals facing off. Rage clenched his teeth and let out a yell as he charged Shawn, knocking him clear off his feet and pounding him to the hard, cement floor.

Kole cringed at the smack of his brother’s body and Rage pummeled his fists against Shawn’s chest while he had him down. He knew Shawn felt every one of those hits. The pain was real. Fortunately the healing would be accelerated, but what was his brother doing?

Get up. Get up.

As soon as he’d thought that, Shawn’s head popped up and he threw Rage off him. He got to his feet and his narrowed eyes combed over the crowd. Shaking his head, he turned his attention back to Rage and sailed a few well-placed punches into the guy’s ribs. Rage stumbled around, trying to recover, giving Shawn another moment to search the audience.

Kole quickly went back to his I love Emma mantra in hopes of staying undetected. He hadn’t made a decision what to do yet. He needed some time. This was what he’d wanted all along. To find Shawn. He’d traveled across the damn country looking and looking. What events had transpired to land Shawn here?

Although... he was here too, so the reason was probably the same. Money. Money to be made on the one thing all the men in Reardon’s army did best—fight.

Shawn’s eyes closed then he spun around and positively kicked the shit out of Rage. The other man’s body dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes and the announcer came out to check for a knock out. Grumbles emanated from the crowd as onlookers complained about the quick end to the fight.

“Crunch usually puts on a better show than this,” one guy behind Kole said.

“Yeah. He likes to draw it out, make it worthwhile to watch. This was boring,” another man answered.

“His loss. He gets less money if he knocks his opponent out before the five-minute mark.”

Shit. Kole had cost his brother money by distracting him. But there’d be more fights because Shawn had clearly won this round. He’d face the next name on the roster.

“Crunch for the win!” The announcer attempted to grab Shawn’s arm and hold it up, but Shawn shrugged free, his wild eyes still scanning the crowd.

Kole hid as Shawn fought four more men with ease. The crowd around him grew angrier at Shawn’s less than entertaining methods tonight. Each quick knockout cut into Shawn’s earnings and Kole made his way to the back of the room. If he could slip out and wait for Shawn outside...

“Next match is Crunch versus Beast,” the announcer said. “Beast is a newcomer tonight. Do you take a chance that he’s bigger and badder than our boy, Crunch, or do you stick to our homeboy? Place your bets!”

At the news of a brand new contender, some of the anger sifted out of the audience as bets were placed and money exchanged hands.

“Where do you think you’re going?” the old guy who had been at the door asked.

“I changed my mind about fighting.” Kole needed to get outside and sort this all out. He needed the money, but he needed his brother more.

The old guy shook his head. “There’s no changing your mind, son. Once Ricky announces your fight name and bets are placed, you go in the ring. End of story.” He slapped Kole on the back. “Well, hopefully it ain’t the end of your story. I ain’t never seen Crunch lose, and he’s being particularly efficient tonight.”

“How long has Crunch been fighting here?”

“About nine months.” The man put his hands in the front pockets of his ratty jeans, a long chain hooked from his belt to his pocket rattling as he moved. “He showed up here out of sorts, you know? Like he’d been hitting the good stuff pretty hard.” The guy made a motion as if he were snorting something. “He was a bigass motherfucker, so we says, ‘You wanna fight?’ He says, ‘You’ll pay me?’ We says, ‘Yup,’ and that’s that.”

Nine months? His brother had been beating people up for nine months, allowing himself to get beat up too in order to draw the crowd in. Gods be damned. And was this guy suggesting Shawn was on drugs when he’d shown up?

Kole glared at the dingy ceiling of the room. You knew, Flidae. You knew he was here.

The goddess’s laughter prickled inside his skull.

“Go on,” the old guy said. “Get in that ring or you won’t just have to fight Crunch. You’ll have to fight every douchebag in this joint who has money on this fight.”

Kole’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. A text from Emma.

Where did you go for aspirin? Ireland? ☺  Hurry up!

Hurry up. Aye. Easier to get in that ring, fight his brother, and then sort it out later.

He snaked through the crowd and Shawn’s eyes widened as Kole climbed into the ring.

“What are you doing here?” Shawn asked, anger coming off him in waves that were almost as powerful as the punches Kole had seen him deliver to Rage.

“Fighting you apparently.” Kole turned to the crowd and raised his arms above his head. He let out a growl almost identical to Shawn’s.

A heartbeat of silence filled the building as the regulars recognized the familiar greeting.

“He sounds like Crunch!” a man up front hollered.

“Kinda looks like him too!” another yelled.

Kole was about to take the announcer’s microphone and reveal he and Crunch were brothers, figuring that would charge the crowd up even more and increase their winnings perhaps. May as well make this worth the trouble. A sharp chop to the ribs, however, made him drop to his knees.

Cheering erupted and the fight was on. Neither brother held back. Any grudge toward his brother Kole had held onto over the years came racing to the forefront. Additionally, he was angry he hadn’t found Shawn sooner. He was angry Shawn didn’t seem all that thrilled to see him. He was angry his brother hadn’t troubled himself with searching for him. He was angry Shawn might be using drugs.

He was angry Shawn kept driving his fists into his face.

Letting out simultaneous growls, they tackled each other to the ground, rolling so they took turns being on top. Bottom. Top. Bottom. Until Shawn hammered his knee into Kole’s stomach and temporarily knocked the wind out of him.

Kole recovered on a hoarse gasp and drilled his elbow into Shawn’s ribs until something cracked.

Shawn let out a roar and rolled them once more so he was on top. He used his legs to propel himself off Kole, one hand going to his broken ribs and the other wiping blood away from his nose.

Kole stood as well, thumbing at the blood dripping from his own mouth, then charging at Shawn. The brothers collided in the center of the ring and wrestled, but their strength was evenly matched, muscle for muscle.

“This is the longest match ever!” the redheaded woman called. “Somebody go down already!”

Let me win, Shawn thought.

Don’t want to look bad in front of your new friends? Kole asked.

Fuck you. Let me win. I have a good thing going here.

Kole was a little stunned by Shawn’s use of the f-word. Out of all the men in Reardon’s army, his brother was the least foul-mouthed.

A good thing? Kole thought. You beat people up for money.

Shawn let out a gruff chuckle that didn’t hold any humor whatsoever. How is that different from what we used to do, brother?

It’s not, but we have a chance here in this time, this place, to do something else with our lives. Something better.

And that’s why you’re here too? To do something better? Shawn struck Kole in the jaw, making Kole’s teeth rattle. Face it, Kole, this is all we’ll ever be.

Kole shook his brother’s punch off and rocketed his own fist forward, sending Shawn’s head snapping back. No. We can be more.

Just let me win.

Still they fought on. Finally, the announcer risked getting in the ring with them and blew a whistle until the brothers unlocked their arms and stepped back from one another. Both of them were breathing heavily, panting almost. Blood stained their skin, bruises blossomed, and broken bones throbbed.

At least three fingers on Kole’s left hand had been smashed, but the bones were already mending themselves. He assumed the same was true for Shawn’s ribs.

“Let’s call this one a draw, shall we? Everyone will receive forty percent of his bet. Sound fair?” The announcer gave Shawn and Kole a glare, clearly not thrilled with having to give out more money because one of them couldn’t admit defeat. “It’s late, folks. Settle your accounts and get the fuck out of here.”

The crowd discussed the fight as money once again changed hands and wagers were squared away. After a time, only Shawn and Kole were left standing, still in the ring, staring at each other.

“You’re here,” Kole finally said.

“You ruined my winning streak, asshole.” Shawn turned away and grabbed a towel off a stool in the corner of the ring. Wiping the blood and sweat from his face, he walked away.

“Hey.” Kole grabbed his brother’s arm. “Don’t walk away from me.”

Shawn threw down the towel. “You want to go a few more rounds. I’m sure that’s all it will take for me to flatten you.”

Stunned by his brother’s outright animosity, he squared his shoulders and braced himself in case Shawn started swinging again. “Why are you so pissed at me? I’ve been looking for you all this time. I finally found you. I’ve found Reardon and Jaemus too. You don’t have to do this anymore. Come with me and we’ll figure out what to do next.”

Shawn rolled his gray eyes. “If you think I want to be around Reardon or Jaemus or you, you’re fucking dumber than you look.”

Kole marched up to Shawn and stood toe to toe with him. He was an inch shorter than Shawn, but five years older. That made him the brother in charge. “I can understand why you don’t want to see Reardon. What he did to us has made things... difficult, but what the hell is your beef with me? I got turned just like you did. I got banished just like you did. I got dumped in the middle of nowhere in this time and had to figure it out on my own. Just. Like. You. Did. Now what the fuck is your problem?”

Something flickered in Shawn’s eyes. His wolf was close to the surface.

“My problem is this.” He hiked up his left pant leg.

Kole’s gaze zeroed in on... something silver and black? Metal? It spanned down into Shawn’s left boot. “What is...” His words fell away as Shawn pulled up his pant leg more and something black met his brother’s flesh-colored thigh, above where his knee was...or should be anyway. A mechanical joint took the place of Shawn’s knee instead.

“FYI,” Shawn said into Kole’s stunned silence, “werewolves can’t heal ripped away limbs. It’s also fucking expensive to buy a fake one.”

He turned away from Kole, let his pant leg drop, and climbed out of the ring with an ease and grace Kole wouldn’t have expected from someone down a leg.

“Wait,” Kole called. “What happened?”

He’d always imagined when he found Shawn everything would be all right again. They’d have each other and would face the future together. They’d figure out their something worthies and Flidae would have to send them back home to Ireland of the past. They’d probably continue to be warriors, using their werewolf strength and abilities to gain more victories and more riches.

Now that plan had gone to shit. Kole no longer wanted to go back to Ireland of the past. He liked Vermont. He’d fallen in love and absolutely had to be with Emma, his soul mate. He’d gotten a job. He didn’t want to be a warrior. He wanted to get started on a family by adopting Kylie. He wanted a house. He wanted to be around Reardon and Jaemus, Brandy and Nika, Dylan and Meredith.

He wanted his brother to be a part of all that too, but this Shawn wasn’t the one he remembered.

Chapter Fifteen

Kole ran through the dark woods behind Deer Creek Inn. Shawn had agreed—after Kole begged—to meet him tomorrow and tell him the story of what happened to his leg and what he’d been doing besides fighting in the K.O. Klub since getting banished. Kole had wanted the story right then and there, but Shawn refused.

“It’s not a bedtime story, brother.” A resigned sigh had escaped from his chest. “Tomorrow.”

Kole had doubts he’d show up, but at least he knew he could find Shawn again if he took off. Someone at that club would know where he’d gone and his brother’s scent would still be fresh. He’d texted Reardon and Jaemus, letting them know he’d found Shawn and they both agreed to come with him tomorrow. For some reason, backup sounded like a good idea. Maybe the three of them together could convince Shawn to get out of the fight life and join them.

When Kole returned to the inn, he wasn’t in the right frame of mind to see his sweet Emma. He was keyed up from fighting and seeing Shawn. His injuries were still healing and he figured shifting to wolf form would speed up the process. Running hurt, but it also felt good. His excuse of having a headache earlier tonight was no longer an excuse. He’d been in human form and away from Emma for too long. Getting punched in the face repeatedly hadn’t helped matters either.

A light rain fell, pitter-pattering on leaves and dampening Kole’s brown fur. The air was cool and the run did much to clear his head. After a while, his body ached less and his headache subsided. He ran back toward the inn, not sure what time it was.

What a strange night. It had started out so wonderfully. Emma had been radiant in her dress and her performance with Hendrake had been better than the one he’d seen at Barnside Pub. He preferred their toned down sound and hoped the band would consider creating more material that had that feel.

He’d enjoyed sitting with his family and being part of a werewolf pack. The energy between them did much to settle him. All this time he’d been looking for more than his brother apparently. He’d been looking for connection.

Spending time with Kylie had been a blast too. Each time she giggled, Kole’s heart grew in his chest. She was a bright star—one he wanted in his sky.

Then he’d made a stupid mistake by leaving the gala. Or had he? He couldn’t decide. Fighting for money was a step in the wrong direction. If getting Kylie and asking Emma to marry him were meant to be, there were better ways to make that happen than punching people into unconsciousness while others watched. He’d thought he’d evolved some by being in this time, but obviously that wasn’t the case. When the situation got tough, he’d resorted to using brute strength to solve the problem like he had in the past.

On the other hand, leaving the gala had brought him to his brother. Definitely not the way he’d wanted to find him, but the search was finally over. He knew where Shawn was. He knew he lived. He knew he’d lost his leg in some event that was going to be difficult to hear about. What kind of pain had Shawn been in? What had happened to fill him with such fury? What had pushed him to get into drugs if he was in fact into them? Who had been there for him? No one?

Letting out a growl as the inn came into view, Kole shook out his wolf body, water spraying off his fur. All those questions would have to wait until tomorrow. His brother better show up.

Kole stopped where he’d left his clothes and shifted. A noise at the back porch of the inn had his head snapping up as he stepped back into the woods a bit more. He couldn’t see the porch clearly, but perhaps Emma was waiting for him there. Hurrying, he pulled on his wet pants and shirt. Blood stained both of them, so he jogged to his bike and pulled out an extra pair of jeans and a T-shirt he kept inside the saddle bags. He quickly changed into those and threw the brand new dress pants and shirt into the inn’s dumpster at the edge of the parking lot.

Too bad. That suit had been a good fit and he’d only gotten to wear it once. He still had the jacket in Emma’s car, and he should have thought to change into something else before going to the K.O. Klub. That would have been smarter, but he wasn’t doing smart tonight.

Squinting at the inn, he started up his I love Emma mantra again just to be on the safe side. He planned to tell her that he’d found Shawn, but he’d leave out the where of it. She didn’t need to know that desperation had led him down a path of stupidity.

Money would come with the construction job. He’d patiently save it up and gradually build the life he wanted. He had Emma—not officially by law but by heart—and their love was strong. Together they could make all their dreams a reality.

Kole entered the inn and climbed the stairs. Everything was quiet and dark, making it easy for him to sneak up to his room. He slipped his key into the lock, but the door was already unlocked and he recalled forgetting to lock it when they’d left for the gala. Where he was from, doors were rarely locked and his time in Alaska with the wolves hadn’t had any doors to lock. Living from hotel room to hotel room as he’d traveled across the country taught him a little something about playing it safe, but for the most part—aside from his bike—he didn’t have anything anyone would want to steal from him.

Pushing open the door, his gaze immediately fixated on the dark, curvy lump in his bed. He was amazed that a single room with Emma in it could feel like home.

He shed his clothes once again, glad that he could avoid the whole where’s-your-suit conversation for right now. He showered quickly then slipped into the bed, wrapping his arms around Emma’s sleeping form and pulling her up against him.

She let out a sigh and scrunched up her legs, her behind pushing into him and making him instantly hard.

“Hey, Beauty,” he whispered as he nipped her earlobe and nuzzled her neck. Gods, she smelled so good.

Slowly, Emma rolled over in his hold so she was on her back. She blinked sleepy eyes up at the ceiling before turning her head to look at him. “Hi.” Her voice was scratchy, sexy. “I missed you.”

Kole wasn’t convinced she was awake, but right now, groggy was better for him. It’d keep her from asking questions he didn’t want to answer right now.

“I missed you too.” He ran his hand over her hair, smoothing it out on the pillow. “Go back to sleep, lass. I’ll be right here.”

She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “Don’t want to sleep.”

Kole chuckled when she yawned through the words. “Could have fooled me.” He dropped kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and on her collarbone.

“Shhh...no more talking,” Emma whispered.

She caught his mouth with hers and what started out as a half-hearted attempt at kissing quickly turned into fiery hot passion. Emma thrust her velvety tongue into his mouth and with one stroke against his tongue, she made him rock hard.

He grabbed her around the waist and hoisted her up to sit on his lap, a few of his bruised body parts rebelling at the sudden movements. When she let out a sexy groan, any pain he felt vanished. Only desired filled him now.

“What you do to me, Beauty...” He growled low in his throat as she moved her hips in slow circles, pressing her hot center against his erection.

Her lips turned up in a grin as she kissed him. Silky, black hair fell around her face like a curtain, tickling his shoulders and chest as she moved. He slid his hands down to cup her ass and press her closer to him.

“You do some things to me too, Beast. Lovely things.”

At her use of the name Beast, he cringed, knowing how foolish he’d been to go to that steelyard tonight. He could have risked losing what was in his arms right now, and he’d die without her. Absolutely die.

Tightening his grip, he sat up and rolled them so she was on her back. He peeled off her long T-shirt and her underwear.

“I was naked in this bed at first,” she said. “But I got cold waiting for you. I know that T-shirt isn’t sexy.”

Kole shook his head. “Anything that has you in it is sexy, Emma.”

Grinning, she rid him of his underwear and closed her hands over the steel rod that his dick had become. “Is this all for me? Can I have every inch?” She pulsed her hand and rubbed her thumb over his sensitive tip.

“You can have anything you want.” He let out a raspy breath when she pushed him onto his back and slid down his body, her mouth closing around his length.

She moaned and the noise made him fist the sheets beneath him. When she started moving that glorious mouth up and down, taking him in more fully with each motion, he nearly lost consciousness.

“So good... Emma... so good.” He plunged his fingers into her hair, happy that his three fingers appeared to be completely healed.

Emma’s tongue worked him into a state where he couldn’t think about anything besides her. I love Emma. I love Emma. I love Emma. The mantra came easily.

I love you too, Kole. Forever.

He reached over to his wallet on the bedside table and grabbed a condom. Once sheathed, he wasted no time flipping her to her back and burying himself deep inside her. He devoured her mouth, kneaded her breasts until her nipples were tight buds, and thrust his hips until they were both ready to explode.

Emma put her hand over her mouth as a blissful cry burst out, and he kissed her again to mute any other sounds of their lovemaking. The rooms in the inn were close together. He didn’t want to make anyone jealous of what was going on in his room.

Because they would be. Gods be damned, being with Emma was like nothing else he’d ever done. She was the reason he existed. He was sure of it.

Emma came on a ragged breath and he followed right after her. When he collapsed beside her, his chest heaving and his entire body still vibrating with the orgasm, she snuggled into his side.

“Now that was the best part of the night.” She rested a possessive arm across his chest.

He ran his fingers along her forearm then intertwined his fingers with hers. “Truly.”

“How’s your headache?”

“Gone.” Every ache was gone.

“Good.” She snuggled closer, pressing her soft lips to his shoulder. “What took you so long to come back?”

“I found Shawn.” I love Emma. I love Emma. I love Emma.

She immediately got up on her elbow. “You what? You found your brother? While you were out for aspirin?”

I love Emma. I love Emma. “Aye.”

Her hand slapped down on his chest and he let out a breath under the impact. “Kole! That’s amazing! Has he been in Vermont the whole time? What’s his story?”

Kole kissed the back of her hand. “We only talked briefly. He... wasn’t that happy to see me.”

Emma’s deep blue eyes immediately filled with compassion, making Kole feel like an absolute asshole for not being totally honest with her. “Oh, honey... why not?”

Kole shrugged one shoulder. “I wasn’t that happy when I first came across Reardon and Jaemus. I can’t explain it more than to say being turned into a werewolf without consent tends to create some... tension.”

“Unless you’re soul mates.” She gave him a grin that made him want to make love to her all over again. “Well, even then, I guess. I was mad at first. I mean, who wants to come to grips with the fact that all of a sudden you can change into an animal?”

“Nobody.”

“Right. But finding out it was your soul mate who changed you makes it easier to swallow.” She pushed up to sitting, her knees tucked under her. Letting her hands glide over her own body, she said, “I actually feel wonderful in this body and in wolf form. Better than I’ve ever felt physically.” She winked at him. “Of course that may be the soul mate lovemaking talking right now.”

He sat up and hooked his hand on the back of her neck, pulling her in close for a kiss. Only she had the capacity to make him feel better after the disappointing encounter with Shawn.

“You are planning to talk to your brother again, right?” Emma settled back down on the bed, tugging him with her.

He slid his arms around her waist and pulled her against his body so her head rested on his shoulder. The feel of her naked flesh against his soothed him. “Aye. He said he’d meet me tomorrow, but—”

“You’re not sure if he’ll really show up,” she finished.

He shook his head then pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

“He’ll come, Kole. Deep down, he misses you too.”

The man he’d seen tonight didn’t look capable of missing anyone.

****

Soft kisses on her bare shoulder woke Emma. She could wake this way every day for the rest of her life.

Your wish is my command. Kole’s voice in her head made her body get all warm.

She rolled over and spent a few moments dining on those marvelous lips of his. How was it possible that the man could taste so good? He smelled good too. And felt good. And looked good. Hell, his low growls when they were making love even made him sound good.

“What are your plans for today, Beauty?” Kole coiled and uncoiled pieces of her hair around his fingers as he gazed at her with those crystal blue eyes.

“Oh! I didn’t tell you the good news. Great news actually.” She reached over to the table on her side of the bed and held up the business card. “We have a local radio DJ interested in giving Hendrake some air time.”

Kole took the card and read the handwritten message from Vix on the back. “Emma! This is wonderful! I’m not surprised you got noticed last night. You guys sounded amazing.” He dropped a kiss on her nose. “You, in particular, sounded amazing.”

She loved hearing how proud he was of her. “You’re biased.”

“Maybe.” He handed back the card.

“This isn’t the only card we received either,” she said, waving it so it made a twangy noise. “Nika dumped a load in my hands after our set. A whole bunch of guests want to hire us.”

“Excellent. Congratulations.”

“Thanks. We’re going to call the DJ this morning and see what the next steps are.”

The buzzing excitement she’d felt last night after Torrin had discovered that card came rushing back. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d imagined driving in her car and hearing Hendrake on the radio. They had made a few YouTube videos of their songs, but never received that many hits and making those stupid videos got expensive if you wanted to do them right. A little air time on the radio, however, might propel those videos into the viral realm.

“We should celebrate tonight. I ditched you last night.” Kole sat up, the blankets pooling at his waist, allowing his magnificent chest some display time.

Not able to resist, Emma ran her index finger along his abs and around his pectoral muscles. What a finely constructed male specimen. If she weren’t actually touching him, she wouldn’t believe he was real.

“You didn’t ditch me,” she said. “Your headache did. That I can forgive.”

Kole swiped his hand across his forehead in a relieved gesture. “Good. I couldn’t stand it if you were mad at me.”

“Can soul mates get mad at each other?” After the shock of becoming a werewolf had worn off, she hadn’t been angry with Kole once. She’d only felt deep, all-consuming affection and attraction to him.

“I don’t know for sure,” he said, “but it seems our human sides would allow us to still experience a host of emotions toward our loved ones.”

“But this soul mate thing is different than love, don’t you think?”

“Aye. It is different.”

“Good different.”

“Very good different.” He caught her hand which had still been roaming over his chest and brought it up to his lips. “No man was ever so lucky to have a soul mate like you.”

“I wish to be awakened every day with those gentle kisses on my skin and with sentences like that one you just delivered.”

“Got it.” He leaned closer and lightly nipped her bottom lip. “Do I get to make wake-up requests too?”

“I don’t see why not.” She yelped when he grabbed her around the waist then flipped her onto her back.

He climbed atop her, a sexy-as-hell wolfish grin on his full lips. “Can you guess my request?”

“I have an idea.” She shivered when he ran his bristly chin over her left breast before closing his mouth over it and using his skilled tongue to make her core yearn for him.

“I want breakfast in bed too,” he said.

Kole pleasured her in every sense of the word. With his hands. Mouth. Teeth. A few hits of dirty talk had made things interesting too.

Thirty minutes later, after giving a new definition to sharing a shower, they sat across from one another at a small table in the inn’s dining room. Kole’s legs had corralled hers under the table and Emma loved the possessive feel of it. She liked belonging to him.

I belong to you too, Beauty.

She liked that as well.

“Anyone need more French toast?” Gran asked as she wandered through the dining room, checking in with guests.

“I might bust a seam if I eat another bite,” a man at the table behind Emma and Kole said.

“But it’s so good, Daddy.” The little girl sitting beside the man resembled him with dark brown hair, olive skin, and blue eyes. She dragged a piece of French toast through the syrup nearly overflowing on her plate. When she picked up the piece on her fork, syrup ran down in a stringy stream.

The man took his napkin off his lap and dabbed at the little girl’s chin after she’d eaten the French toast. “You know what would be really good, Molly? If you didn’t splash syrup all over the place.”

Gran laughed along with the man. “Hey, breakfast is only as good as how sticky you get eating it, right, Molly?”

Molly gave Gran a huge grin as more syrup dribbled down her chin.

Emma looked back at Kole whose gaze was transfixed on the interaction between the man and his daughter. “Kole.”

His gaze shifted to her face. “Aye?”

She reached across the table and interlaced her fingers with his. “We’ll make it happen. Kylie. She’ll be with us.”

“You want that too, right?” The longing in his eyes matched the longing in her heart.

“I want that too. I had so much fun with her last night. Even if we both missed you.”

Something flickered across Kole’s face, but it was gone before Emma could ask him if he was okay.

“She loved watching your show,” he said. “I think she might be interested in playing an instrument.”

“Aye. She said something about being in the school band with Dylan. She plays the flute, I think.”

“The little pixie.” Kole finished his coffee. “I guess I’d better be going. Reardon and Jaemus are coming with me to meet Shawn. I would have liked to talk to him alone first, but I think it’s going to take more than just me to convince him not to be so angry.”

Emma wiped her mouth with her napkin then folded it and set it on the table. “Were you angry when Flidae dumped you in Alaska?”

“Terribly.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sifted out a breath. “But I had to get over it fast in order to survive.”

Emma couldn’t imagine being banished from her home, her century. She liked to travel and all, but that was definitely extreme. “Maybe he needs some time.”

“He’s had months and months.”

She shook her head. “No, I mean time to adjust to the fact that he’s been found. Perhaps he’d given up hope and doesn’t trust things could actually get better.”

Kole nodded slowly. “That might be the case.”

She wasn’t sure what her role was here. Did she give Kole space to deal with his brother or did she offer him help? “Do you want me to go with you?”

“I always like you with me,” Kole said, lifting her hand and kissing her knuckles, “but I got this. Besides, Reardon and Jaemus are coming, and you, my dear, have a radio DJ to call.”

Emma clapped and they toasted with their orange juice glasses. At the clink of glass, Blaithin and Flynn came into the dining room.

“Hey, no celebrating without us.” Blaithin tugged on the back of Emma’s hair.

“Congratulations on the great response to last night’s show.” Kole held out his hand to shake Blaithin’s then Flynn’s.

“Thanks. We’re stoked,” Blaithin said.

“Ultra-stoked.” Flynn wandered over to the coffee station.

Emma turned around in her seat to see the stairs then scanned the dining room before looking up at Blaithin again. “Where’s Torrin?”

“The library.”

“The what? Why? I’ve never even seen Torrin read a book.” In all the years she’d known him, he’d always had a guitar in his hand, not a book.

Blaithin chuckled. “I’ve never seen it either, but he knocked on my door early this morning, looking as if he hadn’t slept well. I invited him in, but he shook his head and said he was going to the library. I wasn’t awake enough to question it at the time. I’m curious as hell now though.”

So was Emma. “Maybe he has a song idea and needs to research.”

“Possibly. Anyway, he said if you wanted to call Vix Brendyn and set up an appointment, we could text him and he’d be there.” Blaithin got down on his knees at the table. “So can we please, please call Vix Brendyn? Can we? Huh, can we?” He grabbed Emma’s hand and squeezed it.

“Put the man out of his misery and make the call, Beauty.” Kole stood. “I’ve got to be on my way.” He leaned down to Emma’s ear as Blaithin stood and released her hand. “But tonight, we celebrate.”

“Aye. Hopefully many things.” She held his gaze for a heartbeat longer, then Kole walked away, stopping to clap Flynn on the back and say something.

“You know if I were a gay man...” Blaithin took Kole’s vacated seat.

“He’s mine.” Emma was surprised to feel her wolf rise to the surface. Her words came out stronger than she’d intended.

Blaithin held up his hands in surrender. “Easy there, Emmy Bear. I’m not going to steal your man because, you know, I’m not gay.”

Right. Of course. She needed to simmer down before her eyes went full glow in front of Blaithin. Keeping secrets from her bandmates was hard, especially now when they were on the brink of something big.

Flynn came back to the table and nudged Emma’s phone toward her. “Let’s go, missy. Make the call. The anticipation is going to kill me.”

“No,” Blaithin said, “the caffeine is.”

“Shut it. I need my buzz.” Flynn took a sip and let his eyes roll back.

Emma picked up her phone. “Let’s go outside. There are too many people in here.” She led them to the back porch. It was a cool morning so no one else was out there. “When we hit it big, we’ll need a posh office.”

Flynn shook his head. “No we will have people in a posh office. We won’t do anything ourselves but make music and perform.”

Blaithin wagged a finger at Flynn. “Once in a while I like the way this lad thinks.”

Sitting on the swing as Blaithin and Flynn took up the chairs across from her, Emma slid Vix’s business card from her pocket. She held out her phone toward the guys. “Lay a hand on it for good luck.”

Neither one of them balked at her request. She wished Torrin was with them to make the call, but she had to assume whatever he was doing at the library was important. She was willing to bet a fantastic idea had come to him during the nighttime hours and he wanted to get a jump on it before it flitted out of his mind. The Muse could be fickle, and sometimes you had to act even if her timetable sucked.

In any event, Emma looked forward to any new stuff Torrin wrote. Especially if it wasn’t stuff about her. And him. And what wasn’t meant to be between them. She hated hurting him. He was one of her closest friends and she always wanted him to be.

She typed in Vix’s phone number and gave the guys a thumbs up when it rang. This conversation had the potential to change their lives. She could hardly breathe as she waited.

“Vix Brendyn, 104PYK Radio. Spill it.”

“Umm, hello.” Emma slapped her own forehead. Way to sound like a brilliant musician. “Hello,” she repeated with a more confident tone. She could do this. “This is Emma Rhodes from Hendrake. We were—”

“Freaking extraordinary last night,” Vix finished. “I haven’t heard a unique sound like you guys in forever. Everything that’s being churned out lately is boring, boring, boring.” She let out a frustrated sound. “What I heard last night from Hendrake has the ability to wake up the music world.”

“Really?”

Vix chuckled “Shit, yeah. Really. Are you available to meet at Rosie’s Diner? Say... in an hour?”

“Aye. We can do that.”

“Aye? I love it! Bring some demo stuff I can listen to and we’ll make a plan.” Vix’s energy and enthusiasm was contagious. “If we put your sound in front of listeners, they are bound to crave more. Hendrake will be a household name.”

Here in Vermont. And hopefully everywhere else.

Chapter Sixteen

When Reardon pulled the SUV up to the steelyard in Appleton, Shawn was leaning against the building. He had on black jeans, black boots, and a long-sleeved gray T-shirt. His light brown hair was loose and hanging down to his jaw while the slight beard around his scowling mouth looked as if it’d been freshly trimmed. There were no signs of the beating Kole had given him last night. Being a werewolf had its advantages.

“What the hell is this place?” Jaemus asked from the back seat.

“They fight inside.” Kole watched as his brother strode toward the SUV.

“Fight?” Reardon turned toward Kole in the passenger seat. “What do you mean?”

“For money. Guys come here to fight, onlookers bet, winners get rich.”

“And you know this because you came here last night looking to fight and get rich.” Jaemus didn’t phrase it as a question because Kole hadn’t cleared his intentions from his mind. No point in hiding from his cousins now. Once they talked to Shawn, they’d get the whole story anyway.

“But you have a job with us,” Reardon said. “Why would you come here?”

“I have some expenses.” Kole went back to watching Shawn.

At the same time, Reardon and Jaemus sailed fists into his arm, making Kole look at them and their grinning faces. Again, he hadn’t protected his thoughts.

“You and Emma,” Jaemus said. “Totally great. Way to go, lad.”

“And adopting Kylie... she’ll be so happy.” Reardon gave his shoulder a squeeze.

Kole held up his hands. “Don’t get excited yet. I don’t have money to buy a ring for Emma to officially ask her to marry me and buy her a home, and Mrs. Rubisson gave me a list of shit to do before she’d consider letting us adopt Kylie.”

“Emma doesn’t need a ring for you to ask her,” Reardon said. “I didn’t have one for Brandy and she still said yes.”

Kole regarded Jaemus, but his cousin shook his head.

“I had a ring,” he said. “Because I’m much classier than my brother here.”

Kole rolled his eyes and got out of the SUV as Shawn stepped up to it. Reardon and Jaemus got out too and walked over to flank Kole’s sides. He liked their show of solidarity, but wondered if his brother would take it as an act of aggression. As if they were trying to outnumber him. Which they were.

Shawn smirked. As if outnumbering me would matter.

Add cocky to the list of new things about Shawn. “We want to talk, brother. Catch up. Be together.”

“It’s nice to see you, Shawn,” Reardon said, a hint of the authoritative tone he used to have when he led the army sliding into his greeting.

“Is it?” Shawn asked. “Or am I a painful reminder of what you did to all of us?”

“I guess we’re all going to give you a hard time about that, Reardon,” Jaemus said. “Can’t be helped, but you’ll get over it, Shawn. And it is good to see you.”

Shawn leaned over to the right a little, shifting his weight, and Kole wondered if his leg hurt him.

“All the time, brother. All the time.” He looked at Reardon and Jaemus as his thoughts no doubt registered in their minds too because they both shifted their gazes down to Shawn’s left leg.

“Come to the sanctuary with us,” Reardon said. “We need to hear your story, Shawn.”

“Why not?” Shawn shrugged. “I haven’t told it to anyone. Out of courtesy of course. It’s the stuff of nightmares.” He opened the back passenger side door and climbed into the SUV.

Kole had expected him to resist going anywhere with them, but maybe that hard exterior was just that—an exterior. One built out of necessity. Hopefully, it would crumble easily and he’d find his brother under there somewhere.

The ride back to the sanctuary was full of awkward silence except for everyone’s thoughts cycling around and around. Reardon’s head was full of guilt at turning them into werewolves. Jaemus’s thoughts revolved around a combination of being hungry and being glad he’d found Reardon when he did. Shawn’s mind circled around anger, last night’s fight being a draw, and the money it’d cost him.

Something else resided in Shawn’s mind too. Fear. He didn’t want to tell them his story, and Kole wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it. All this time, he’d considered the horrible things that could have happened to Shawn, but losing a limb hadn’t come up in any of the scenarios. The details of this story had to be gruesome, but Shawn was doing a damn solid job of protecting his thoughts about his leg right now.

When they arrived at the sanctuary, Brandy and Dylan were fussing with some clay pots on the front steps of the house. Dylan moved to come over, but Brandy called him back and the two of them went inside instead.

Some of Brandy’s wolves meandered over when all four of them were out of the SUV.

Shawn let the big brown one, Lug, nose around his boots. “You landed here after banishment?” he asked Reardon.

“Aye.”

“Lucky bastard.” He shook his head and scratched Lug between the ears. Two other wolves came over and Shawn gave them the same petting as they sniffed and investigated him. “What about you?” He motioned to Jaemus with his chin. “Did you land in the bed of some sexy strumpet whose only wish was to suck your dick?”

Jaemus raced forward and grabbed Shawn by the throat. Kole and Reardon pulled him back while Shawn rubbed his neck.

“I must be right,” he rasped.

“He nearly drowned where he landed,” Reardon said. “And when I got dropped here, I had a bullet in me.” He gestured toward Kole. “Your brother almost got ripped apart by real wolves in Alaska where he got dumped, so don’t think any of us has had it easy. We’ve all faced challenges.”

“But we’ve overcome them,” Jaemus added. “We’ve done our something worthies and found wonderful women in the process.”

“Sexy strumpets,” Shawn said.

“Say that again and I won’t let them stop me from pounding your face in, Shawn.” Jaemus’s eyes were glowing a golden brown. His wolf was ready to fight.

“You used to be the sweet one among us,” Reardon said to Shawn.

“That was before you turned me into an animal, Reardon. Now I don’t see anything to be sweet about.” Again, Shawn shifted his weight. “If you lads did your something worthies, then why aren’t you back in Ireland in our time?”

“We chose to stay here,” Reardon said. “Our reasons for living were here. Our soul mates.”

Shawn scratched at his beard, considering Reardon’s reply, and Kole could hear the questions banging around in his brother’s head.

“Let’s find a spot to talk,” Kole said to Reardon.

“Aye. Follow me.” Reardon gripped Jaemus’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Jaemus nodded once, but his jaw was tightly clenched.

Reardon led them all to the clinic but took them through it to the sanctuary’s library. It had a conference table in the center where Kole knew Meredith ran school groups or college students studied the various resources Brandy had collected on wildlife biology.

Each of them took a seat except Shawn who wandered around the library, reading titles and fingering bindings. Watching him was like watching a restless wolf circling around a caged space.

Finally, Jaemus said, “So tell us already.”

Shawn came over to the table and took a seat away from them all as if he wanted to remain separate. That had to take a bit of determination on his part because Kole knew how strong the pack mentality was. It reached out and drew you in. It’d happened to him when he’d first arrived and to Emma after he turned her. Werewolves wanted to be together in a group.

“Maybe some werewolves want that,” Shawn said in response to Kole’s thoughts. “But not all of us. I couldn’t care less about this little family thing you’ve all got going here. I’ve been fine on my own and I’ll continue to be fine on my own.”

“I wouldn’t define fighting at that steelyard as being fine,” Kole said.

Another shrug from Shawn. “Good thing I don’t give a fuck about your definition then.”

Again, his brother’s tone hit Kole right in the chest. This was not the lad he’d grown up with, the lad he’d protected, the lad he’d taught to be a warrior.

“The story,” Reardon prompted. “Let’s hear it.”

Shawn leaned back in his chair, giving off an aloof air, but Kole could hear his brother’s elevated heart rate. He didn’t want to relive his story.

“I landed on what I now know are train tracks,” he began. “At the time, I only knew them as strange iron rails that stretched on into the darkness forever. My landing was rough. I’d clanged my head on the rails and the ache that went along with that did not fade quickly. I changed from wolf to human without having to think about it. It just happened as if the bump on the head brought the shift on.” Shawn swallowed loudly and rubbed the back of his head as if remembering the pain.

“As I lay there, seeking comfort from the stars in the night sky and wondering what I should do next, an odd vibration buzzed through my body. It took me a while to realize it was the rails beneath me. Something was coming, but I had no idea what.”

Kole held his breath as Shawn leaned forward in his seat.

“Before I could move to safety—because I didn’t know I was in danger—this great white eye of blinding light zoomed toward me.” Shawn paused, his skin paling as if he were going to be sick.

Kole got up to move closer to his brother, but Shawn held up his hand.

“Sit down. I’m all right.” He rubbed his forehead and gripped the edge of the table in front of him. “I managed to get most of myself off the rails. Except for this.” He stood and smacked his hand against his left thigh. “The train barreled right over it, ripping it off me like it was no more than a twig on a tree branch.”

Reardon and Jaemus both let out empathetic groans, while Kole couldn’t wipe the image Shawn had painted from his mind. They’d all seen horrific injuries on the battlefield. Severed limbs were not unknown to them, but seeing a sword come at you and being cognizant of your fate was quite different than having a technology you didn’t know existed tear you apart.

Shawn brought his left leg up and rested his booted foot on the chair. He pulled up his pant leg as he’d done last night and rolled the denim up over his prosthetic knee.

“I figure it makes me a one-of-a-kind werewolf, aye?” Shawn gave them a smile, but it wasn’t of the friendly sort. “How many werewolves have mechanical parts?”

Reardon, Jaemus, and Kole sat in a stilted silence for a few moments until Reardon cleared his throat and asked, “How did you survive?”

Slowly, Shawn rolled his jeans back down and settled in the chair. “Someone on the train went to train personnel and said the train had hit something. They didn’t believe her at first, but she’d made a fuss and gotten hysterical, so they stopped the train and searched the tracks. Sure enough, they found the mangled mess I’d become a little ways back from where they’d stopped.”

“They took you to the hospital then?” Jaemus asked.

“Aye. I don’t remember much. I was pretty fucked up. In and out of consciousness. A bleeding mess. Pain.” Shawn squeezed his eyes closed. “So much pain.” He heaved in a breath and sifted it out in a loud gush. “Good news is that the doctors in this time weren’t able to tell what I was. They treated me as a regular human and went to great lengths to tidy things up down there.” He waved to his lap under the table.

“Didn’t they ask you for identification, health insurance, stuff people in this time have if they need to go to the hospital?” Kole asked. In traveling from Alaska across the country, he’d had to go through some shady hoops to acquire the documentation people in this century needed.

Shawn was silent for a long moment. When he spoke again, his voice was strained. “The woman... on the train... the one who said they’d hit something...” He shook his head, his jaw muscles twitching. “She handled things. She handled a lot of things.”

“Did she buy you that leg?” Reardon asked.

Nodding, Shawn said, “Aye.” Then he looked at Kole. “I fight to pay her back.”

“Do you still see her?” Kole didn’t miss the pointed look Reardon and Jaemus gave each other, but he didn’t have time to tune into their internal conversation. He was too focused on Shawn.

“No. I left. I... wasn’t good for her.” Shawn struggled to remain composed, his fists curling and uncurling on the table.

Kole didn’t have to read his thoughts to know that woman meant something to his brother. Maybe even at a soul mate level. How else had the woman sensed that he’d been hit by the train?

“You’re here now,” Kole said. “Let us help you.”

“I don’t need any help.” Shawn stood and swiped a hand over his face. “This has been lovely, lads. Let’s not do it again some time.” He walked to the library door then stopped. “I know I haven’t been friendly during this little party, but I am glad you three are okay. Gives me hope that some of us fared well.”

“You don’t have to go.” Kole pushed back from the table, meaning to stand, but Shawn raised his hand again to stop him.

“I do, brother.” He motioned to the cozy library around them. “I don’t belong in this world. I don’t know where I belong.”

Kole’s heart ached for Shawn. Somehow he had to show his brother he still belonged right beside him.

****

Rosie’s Diner was humming on a late Sunday morning. Probably because no one in the area made French toast like Rosie. Emma had always loved Gran’s French toast at the inn, but Rosie made a French toast grilled cheese that could give a person a taste of Heaven. Two thick slices of homemade white bread, soaked in egg and toasted to perfection with cheese and bacon in between, all pressed into a breakfast to be remembered. Slather the concoction in pure Vermont maple syrup and you were instantly in the throes of an epic foodgasm.

“I shouldn’t have eaten breakfast at the inn with Kole.” Emma eyed the plates in front of Blaithin and Flynn. The moany yummy noises coming from both of them were almost enough for her to ignore the fact that her stomach was full.

“This shit is amazing,” Blaithin said around a mouthful.

Flynn nodded, too busy shoving in forkfuls to reply verbally.

“Where is Torrin?” Emma turned in her seat and looked to the front door. She’d texted them as soon as the appointment time and location with Vix had been set. He’d answered with a Got it, but that was it.

“Relax,” Blaithin said. “We’ve still got twenty minutes before the meeting. He’ll be here.”

He was right. Torrin wouldn’t miss this opportunity. He’d been the one to discover the card in the pile to begin with and they all wanted this so much. None of them would screw it up.

She sipped at her tea and ran through a couple songs in her head, ones she wanted to make sure she mentioned to Vix. A demo CD of their best work was in her bag. Fortunately, as they’d practiced the toned-down stuff at the inn, they’d recorded some of it. If Vix had liked what she’d heard at the gala last night, Emma wanted to make sure they gave her that too. They had her attention and they needed to keep it.

As Blaithin and Flynn scraped their forks along their plates, savoring every crumb of their breakfast, a woman with blond hair streaked with bright blue walked into the diner, pulled off her sunglasses, and surveyed the room. When she saw Emma, she smiled broadly and made a beeline for their table.

“French toast grilled cheese,” she said, pointing to Blaithin’s and Flynn’s plates. “Excellent choice.” She held out a hand to Emma first. “Vix Brendyn, 104PYK Radio.”

Emma shook her hand. “So great to meet you, Vix. I’m Emma Rhodes.” She gestured to the guys. “This is Blaithin McShane, bagpipes and tin whistle, and Flynn Callister, drums.”

“And Torrin Woods, guitar and vocals.” Torrin swooped in to shake Vix’s hand. “Sorry I’m late.”

Emma took a moment to study Torrin. He had on a wrinkled T-shirt with a stained hooded sweatshirt and a faded pair of jeans. His hair was more disheveled than usual and dark semi-circles resided under his eyes. Had he not slept at all last night? She realized this meeting was a big deal, but she’d still managed to get some rest. And that was even with Kole keeping her up.

Deciding she’d ask Torrin what was going on later, Emma gestured to the free chair beside her. “Please, have a seat, Vix.”

Vix lowered to the chair and removed the handbag she had slung over her shoulder and across her chest. The DJ was dressed in typical Vermont fashion for May with faded jeans, hiking boots, and a lightweight flannel over a T-shirt. The streaks in her hair were showcased by the way she had it pulled back into a ponytail, blue-blond waves streaming down her back.

“I love your earrings,” Emma said, admiring the turquoise beads and copper accents.

Vix fingered the left one. “Oh, thanks. I have a friend who makes them.” She winked at Emma. “I have a habit of collecting people with rare talents. That’s why I wanted to grab on to you guys.”

“We are up for the grabbing,” Blaithin said, his eyes laser focused on Vix.

She shot him a grin. “Good to know.”

Well, well. Emma raised an eyebrow at Blaithin when he finally shifted his gaze off Vix. His expression—and slightly pink cheeks—told her to shut up, but she’d totally tease him later.

“Can we get you something?” Blaithin motioned for the waitress to come over.

“Sure. I’ll have what they had,” Vix said. “It’s always a good time for Rosie’s French toast grilled cheese.”

“What about you, sir?” the waitress asked Torrin.

He jumped as if her presence beside him had startled him. “Oh... umm... aye, what they had.”

What was up with him? He couldn’t be this nervous over the meeting, could he? A great deal did ride on this being a successful encounter, but Vix had contacted them. She was genuinely interested. This thing was in the bag. All they had to do was pass her some music and appear to be a cool band. Easy.

“Okay,” Vix said, “let’s dive right in. I do the midday show on 104PYK. Generally our listeners are family-focused types who enjoy us at home or while driving or businesses that play us in their workplaces. We are online too, so we do have some international fans. I play a wide range of stuff and no one questions me because I’ve been at the radio station longer than anyone else there. A good position to be in. Especially for you guys because no one will stop me from airing your songs. They let me take chances and so far, every new band I’ve played has been launched on 104PYK.”

She rattled off a list of bands Emma was familiar with that Vix had given the same chance she was prepared to give Hendrake. As she named each band, Emma’s excitement grew tenfold. Some of the names were big.

Blaithin had kicked Emma under the table about seventy-two times during the meeting, relaying his exhilaration, and Flynn kept nodding vigorously, like a bobble-head toy, at everything Vix said.

Torrin, on the other hand, was a million miles away. He barely appeared to be hearing anything Vix or the other band members were saying. His skin was gray. Was he not feeling well?

While Blaithin regaled Vix with some tale of a performance they’d done back home in Ireland, Emma nudged Torrin’s knee under the table with her own. Slowly, he looked up at her.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“No.”

She’d expected him to tell her he was fine. “What’s wrong?”

“We’ll talk later. Let’s finish this.” He stared at the food the waitress had placed in front of him, but didn’t make any attempt to eat it.

“I was thinking of playing your songs for a good week. A sprinkling to get listeners interested.” Vix took a bite of her breakfast and rolled her eyes. “Shit, that’s so freakin’ good.” She wiped her mouth with her napkin. “So after the week, I’ll have you guys in for an in-studio interview and short live jam. Maybe do a few caller questions. Let the listeners get to know Hendrake. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful,” Emma, Blaithin, and Flynn said simultaneously.

Vix didn’t seem to notice Torrin hadn’t answered. “Great. Do you guys have an online presence? Website, YouTube, yadda-yadda.”

“Aye,” Emma said. “We have all that, but none of it is active at the moment.”

“Well, do some updates. Make sure it is as fresh and stimulating as possible because people are going to be googling all of you once I’m done with Hendrake. If you need a tech geek to help you, let me know. I have a guy who is fantastic with that stuff.” She slid her gaze to Blaithin. “My brother.”

Blaithin gave her a grin as if to say he was glad the guy was a relative and not... something else.

Vix gave him a grin right back before eating more of her French toast grilled cheese.

“We have a demo CD right here.” Emma retrieved it from her bag. “It has our original sound and what we sounded like last night. We were asked to lighten things up a bit for the children’s home gala.”

Vix took the CD. “Ah, so you guys are versatile? Good to know.”

Emma was relieved Vix believed that instead of considering them sell-outs. She probably knew better than most people how hard it was to break into the music business.

“You guys are literally from Ireland?” Vix leaned back in her chair and sipped her coffee.

Blaithin launched into the tale of Hendrake’s humble beginnings in a high school band class back in Carlingford and ended with how they’d come to Vermont to do some composing.

“Awesome, so there will be new stuff to tap into when listeners eat up these songs.” Vix tapped an index finger on the demo CD.

“Aye,” Flynn said. “Emma and Torrin are our lyricists.”

Vix looked at Torrin, having already conversed with Emma quite a bit. “Tell me about writing songs, Torrin. Where do you get your inspiration?”

Again, Torrin was seated at that table but somewhere else entirely.

“Torrin?” Emma gently nudged his forearm. “Vix wants to know about your Muse.”

He blinked slowly at Emma. “From things I see around me.” His voice was low and robotic.

Vix leaned in, waiting for him to say more. When he didn’t, she looked at Emma. “Is he okay?”

“Aye,” Blaithin said. “We were up late last night.” He flashed her a smile. “You know, getting psyched over finding your business card in the pile.”

Emma sent a thank you glance to Blaithin for covering up Torrin’s awkwardness.

“Well, I pride myself on having a good ear.” Vix tugged on her left one. “Your performance last night reminded me why I got into the radio business to begin with. I love music. I love discovering new bands. I love bringing good tunes to good people.”

“Wait a minute.” Blaithin raised a finger and pointed at Vix. “Is that your tagline? Bringing good tunes to good people? I think I heard you on the radio in the van yesterday.”

Vix’s cheeks colored adorably. “Yeah. That’s me. I’m about positive energy and shit. So much weighs us down, you know? I like to think I’m sending healing vibes to listeners via good music.” She shrugged. “Corny, I guess.”

Blaithin shook his head. “Admirable.”

“We’re glad to be a part of your mission,” Emma added.

“I’ve dreamed about hearing Hendrake on the radio for as long as I can remember,” Flynn said.

“Dream no more.” Vix waved her hand in the air as if wielding a magic wand. “Poof. Consider it done. Listen to my show tomorrow. It starts at ten in the morning and runs until three in the afternoon. I’ll play you guys in the last hour. That way I can drop clues throughout the show that I’m going to unveil something hot and new that listeners don’t want to miss.”

“We’ll be listening,” Emma said as Blaithin and Flynn agreed.

“Okay then. My work here this morning is done.” Vix reached for her purse, but Blaithin stopped her with a hand to her elbow.

They both froze at the contact and Blaithin pulled his hand away while Emma watched in fascination. Could they be any more adorable? Oh, she was so going to have fun teasing Blaithin as soon as Vix left.

And as soon as she found out what the hell was wrong with Torrin.

“Let us take care of your breakfast, Vix,” Blaithin said. “It’s the least we can do.”

She looked at him for a quiet moment then said, “The most you can do is take me to dinner tonight, Blaithin McShane of Hendrake.”

His mouth dropped open and Emma had to fight back a laugh at how off guard Vix had caught him.

“He’d love to,” Emma answered for him. “Six o’clock okay?”

Vix kept her eyes on Blaithin. “Six o’clock would be perfect. Meet at Barnside Pub?”

“He’ll be there.”

Blaithin snapped his mouth closed. “Aye, I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Vix stood. “Thanks for breakfast and for giving me something to look forward to at work tomorrow. Have a good day, folks.” She smiled at Blaithin. “And I’ll see you later.”

With a wave, she headed for the door. A few people stopped her on her way, locals who had recognized her. She chatted with each of them, spending the time and laughing along. Emma had the sense Vix was truly doing some good work with her positive outlook.

“That went even better than I hoped.” Blaithin blinked slowly as he watched Vix leave the diner and walk down the sidewalk.

“Aye, who knew you’d end up with a date out of the deal?” Flynn clapped him on the back.

“Certainly not me. I... I don’t know what happened. It was like she...” His eyes widened and he shook his head.

“Put a spell on you?” Emma asked.

“Aye. A spell. That.” He stared at Emma. “Is that what you feel for Kole?”

That times a million. “Crazy, huh?”

“Totally.”

Flynn snapped his fingers in Torrin’s face. “What is up with you, lad? You were like the village idiot at that meeting.”

Emma cringed at Flynn’s ball-busting. She’d hoped to ask Torrin in a more delicate fashion.

“I need to talk to you.” Torrin ignored Flynn and grabbed Emma by the arm. Hard.

Emma jerked her arm free. “So talk.” She waved at the table as if to say he could talk to her in front of Blaithin and Flynn.

He shook his head. “No. Alone. Now.” He stood, waiting for her to do the same.

“What’s going on, Torrin?” Blaithin dropped cash on the check and stood, as did Flynn and Emma.

Torrin let out a frustrated breath. “I need to talk to Emma alone. We’ll see you guys later.” He took Emma’s hand and yanked.

Blaithin put his hand on Torrin’s shoulder. “Easy there, lad. Don’t want to break our Emmy Bear. We need her for when we get famous this week.” His attempt at a joke did nothing to lighten the intensity in Torrin’s eyes.

“It’s okay, Blaithin,” Emma said. “I’ll be fine.”

Blaithin, bless him, hesitated.

“Honest.” She faced Torrin, trying to get a read on what this weird behavior was all about. They were on the brink of getting everything they’d ever dreamed of as a band, and now he was going to act insane? No. She had to talk some sense into him. “We’re just going to talk, right, Torrin?”

He glanced at Blaithin and Flynn then at her. “Aye. Talk.”

She held her hand out to Torrin. “Give me the keys to the van.”

Mechanically, he slid his hand into this jeans pocket and pulled out the keys.

Emma gave them to Blaithin. “You guys take the van.” That way she’d have her car and be in control of where Torrin wanted to go to talk.

After Blaithin and Flynn were gone, she called Canville Children’s Home and left a message for Kylie that she wouldn’t be able to visit, though it broke her heart to do that. Whatever was going on with Torrin had to be addressed. Now.

Emma turned to Torrin after she put her phone away. “You’re kind of freaking me out. What’s going on?”

“You’re freaked out?” With a nervous laugh, Torrin scanned the crowded diner and shook his head. “Not here.”

Emma folded her arms across her chest. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Torrin, until you at least give me a clue here.”

Again, his gaze darted around at the other patrons. He raked his hand through his hair, making the blond strands stand up for a moment before flopping back down. Leaning in close to her ear, he said, “I know.”

She didn’t like how his voice gave her goosebumps. “You know what?”

“I know what he is, Emma.”

Chapter Seventeen

Kole went outside, but his brother was nowhere. A trail of boot prints marked the dirt driveway, and Kole walked along them until he was at the sanctuary’s tree line. Several of Brandy’s wolves were around so Shawn’s scent was hard to find with all of their scents infused into everything.

Jaemus and Reardon came over, noses raised to the air as well.

“He shifted?” Jaemus asked.

“Must have,” Kole said.

“He has to take that leg with him every time he shifts,” Reardon said.

The prosthetic leg had to be like shedding clothes for a werewolf. Considering the expense of such a leg, Reardon was right. Shawn wouldn’t want to leave that behind nor would he want the expense of having multiples. Especially if he were still paying someone back for the leg.

“We have to find the woman,” Kole said. “The one who helped him.”

“Aye. Exactly what I was thinking,” Reardon said. “She might be the only one who can help him now.”

“But we don’t have a name or a location.” Jaemus rubbed his bearded jaw. “Shawn only told us the big picture parts of his story. We don’t have any of the details.”

“There should be a record of the train accident,” Kole said. “We know the date because it’s the same for all of us—the banishment date.”

“Time to get a little adolescent tech help.” Reardon led them into his house and motioned for them to have a seat in the living room while he looked up the stairs. “Dylan?”

“Yeah?” came the lad’s voice.

“Come down here a minute and bring your tablet.”

Kole listened as the ceiling creaked with the boy’s movements in his bedroom upstairs. A few minutes later, Dylan appeared in the living room. Kole instantly thought about Kylie and wondered what she was doing on a Sunday. Maybe she was watching television or playing outside with some other children from the home. Maybe she was doing homework. Maybe she was practicing her flute.

Maybe she was thinking about being with Kole and Emma.

After saying hello to Kole and Jaemus, Dylan held his tablet out to Reardon. “Here you go.”

Reardon shook his head and held up his big hands. “You know that touch screen and these beefy fingertips don’t combine well, lad. You drive.” He motioned for the lad to sit down on the couch beside him.

“Okay. What are we looking up?” Dylan asked.

“Train accidents.” Reardon proceeded to give him the date and told him to search the New England area to start.

While Reardon’s and Dylan’s heads were bent over the small tablet, Brandy peeked into the living room. “Hey, all,” she said. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”

Kole was too unsettled to put anything in his stomach, including liquid. “No thanks.”

Brandy was quiet for a few moments, her head angled as was Reardon’s. Kole heard his cousin’s voice as he told Brandy what had happened with Shawn. She slid a compassionate gaze to Kole as she sat on the arm of the couch. Reardon put his hand on her thigh, reminding Kole how much comfort could be found when touching one’s soul mate.

He needed to touch his soul mate. Soon. Then maybe his headache would go away too.

“Got it.” Dylan pumped a fist in the air and handed his tablet over to Reardon who scanned the screen. “Wow, good work, lad.” He hooked an arm around the boy and jostled until Dylan giggled and slumped against Reardon.

A wave of insane wanting crested over Kole as he watched Brandy, Reardon, and Dylan be a family. He’d never wanted that for himself. Not even when he was back home in Ireland.

But gods be damned, he wanted it now. More than anything.

Reardon passed the tablet to Kole who was sitting in a recliner across from the couch. Jaemus got out of his matching recliner to lean over the back of Kole’s and read with him.

Skimming the contents of the screen, Kole quickly figured out it was a news article about a train accident in Maine.

A single man was found on the tracks when a rider on the USTrak 713 Downeaster train insisted they had hit something. No other riders reported feeling anything, but Jessica Fairheart, 32, continued to badger train officials until she became hysterical. A doctor who was also riding the train attempted to calm Ms. Fairheart, but finally suggested the train be stopped and checked for any signs of a collision.

After inspection, a male was discovered four miles back on the tracks after train personnel spotted blood on the locomotive. The unidentified man suffered multiple injuries and was taken to a Maine area hospital for treatment. He is said to be stable after losing his left leg to the incident.

A knot formed in Kole’s throat over his brother enduring this and how Shawn didn’t want anything to do with him now. Fresh anger for the situation Reardon had gotten them all into fired up in his belly.

“Easy, Kole.” Reardon put his hands up. “Let’s focus on what we can do for Shawn.”

Kole’s wolf was right there under his skin already. His teeth lengthened in his mouth.

Brandy popped off the couch arm and grabbed Dylan. “Come on, buddy.”

Dylan hesitated as he looked at Kole. “His eyes are wicked cool when he’s about to shift.” He pointed at Jaemus and Reardon. “Everybody’s eyes are glowing!”

“Dylan. Now.” Brandy’s stern tone was enough to propel the boy into action. He followed Brandy who gave them all a glare before she left. “Take it outside, fellas. I don’t want this living room torn apart.”

Kole gave her a low growl and Reardon rocketed off the couch. He grabbed Kole by his leather jacket and dragged him to the front door of the cabin. Tossing him down the steps so Kole landed in the dirt on his ass, Reardon flashed his own canines.

“You don’t get aggressive in my home, mutt. Ever,” Reardon said around a low growl of his own.

The sanctuary wolves came out of wherever they’d been napping in the woods and circled around Kole. He was reminded of when he’d been dropped in Alaska and the pack had surrounded him, their teeth bared, saliva dripping. Brandy’s wolves didn’t seem aggressive at the moment, but clearly the wolves’ allegiance was to Reardon. They were his pack first and they’d defend him.

“It won’t be necessary for them to defend me though, will it?” Reardon stood over Kole, looking every inch the leader he’d been. “I apologized for what I did to you and your brother, Kole. You and I have moved forward to better places. Let’s not rehash the past.”

Jaemus came over and reached his hand down to Kole. “C’mon, cousin. We’ll get more done together than separate.”

Kole stared at a spot somewhere between Reardon’s hulking body and Jaemus’s outstretched hand. He counted to thirty. He took a deep breath.

Shit, his head hurt.

Finally, he took Jaemus’s hand and allowed his cousin to pull him to his feet. Dusting off his ass and jacket, he retracted his fangs and the claws that had dug into the dirt when he’d fallen.

“I’m... I’m sorry, Reardon.” What had he been thinking? That he’d fight Reardon and win? A made werewolf against a natural werewolf was probably a stupid idea. Though Kole, Reardon, and Jaemus were about the same size, there was no mistaking Reardon had a little something... more. It had made him such a successful commander of his army. Men didn’t question Reardon McAlator.

“I want to deck him sometimes too,” Jaemus said. “I remember something from before I was a werewolf and I get... perturbed that I’m no longer a normal human.” He smiled. “Then I remember everything that’s happened to get me to my soul mate, to Nika, and suddenly I don’t care about anything from my past anymore.” He put his arm around Kole’s shoulders and gave him a slight shake. “So when you get the urge to rip my brother’s head off, think about Emma. You wouldn’t have found her without Reardon.”

Just hearing Emma’s name put Kole at ease. Twisted as it sounded, Jaemus was right. Every event before coming to Vermont had led to meeting Emma. Meeting her. Loving her. Wanting to spend the rest of his life with her. His entire existence now meant something because of Emma.

Shawn needed such a purpose as well.

“How do we find this Jessica Fairheart?” he asked.

“Dylan already did.” Brandy jogged out to them, holding the boy’s tablet. At Reardon’s raised brow, she shrugged. “Hey, the kid is curious. Like me. I had to give him something to do besides pressing his face against the glass in the front window to watch a couple of werewolves fight.”

“We didn’t fight,” Kole said.

“No, but my husband did throw you down to the ground like an uncivilized host.” She gave Reardon a sideways glare and Reardon looked away.

Kole liked how Brandy could reduce his former leader to a penitent man, wanting his wife’s approval.

Never underestimate the power of a female, Kole, Brandy thought.

He didn’t. He knew lasses were forces beyond his power. One thought of Emma and he’d do positively anything she asked of him.

“So this Jessica Fairheart lives in Maine. She must have just boarded the train before it hit Shawn. She’s an artist.” Brandy tapped the tablet then turned it toward Kole. “She sells her stuff online.”

Kole took the tablet and viewed a vast selection of pottery. Many of the pieces were useful wares such as bowls, vases, and pitchers, but others were more whimsical sculptures that one would buy to display as conversation pieces. The work was impressive and when Kole tapped on the “About Jessica” section of the website, Jessica’s equally impressive picture came up.

“Don’t see many like that in Ireland,” Jaemus said over Kole’s shoulder.

With her long, thick black hair, tan skin, and dark brown eyes, Jessica Fairheart certainly wasn’t an Irish lass. She was breathtaking though, and Kole could see how his brother had fallen for her. Assuming he had.

“It would explain his foul mood,” Reardon said. “Being away from one’s soul mate has negative effects.”

“Do you think she feels the same negative effects?” Kole asked.

“Only one way to find out.” Jaemus took the tablet and tapped the screen. “She’s got a physical store as well as this online stuff. The phone number is right here.”

“Send that to my phone, will you? I’ll call her later today.” Maybe there was a reason he shouldn’t contact this woman. Maybe whatever had been between her and Shawn hadn’t ended well. Maybe she didn’t feel the same about Shawn as Shawn felt about her. Maybe Kole would be bringing more hurt—or more anger—to his brother.

Too many maybes. He needed to see Emma before he made any decisions.

“Thanks for your help today. I’m sorry about my temper before.” Kole held out his hand to Reardon.

His cousin instantly shook it. “No worries. I understand. There will always be some anger toward me. I deserve it, but we have to focus on the good in our lives and there is much good.”

Five minutes later after listening to a voicemail saying he was officially hired to work at the construction site with Reardon and Jaemus, Kole was on his bike, heading back to the inn to see Emma. How had her meeting gone? Was the DJ going to play Hendrake on the radio? Would his Emma become famous?

As he traveled down the twisting roads, he wondered how Emma being famous would work. Musicians toured. He could make a home in Vermont with Emma, but she’d be away from it sometimes, traveling the country, maybe even the world. How would that factor in with caring for Kylie? And was his new job at the construction site going to lead to something more permanent? Right now they were looking for more help. He needed something that would stick. How could he make himself indispensable?

Why was today so full of questions that Kole’s head felt as if someone were banging around inside it with a hammer?

A hammer. He’d be using one at the construction job. He hoped he used it well and that someone noticed.

****

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Emma marched out of Rosie’s Diner with Torrin right on her heels, her heart racing as she slipped into full-blown panic mode.

How does Torrin know about Kole?

The two of them hadn’t spent that much time in each other’s company. It wasn’t as if you could look at a werewolf and know. She hadn’t known anyway. Not when she’d first met Kole in Deer Creek Inn’s dining room. Now that she was a wolf, however, her sense of smell allowed her to sort people into werewolf and not-werewolf categories. Most people fell in the not-werewolf category save for Kole, Reardon, Jaemus, and Brandy.

But now Torrin knows?

She didn’t have a clue about what she was supposed to do here. She knew this werewolf thing was supposed to remain a secret, but what happened when a human found out and wasn’t someone’s soul mate? Brandy and Nika had discovered what Reardon and Jaemus were, but the soul mate bond made that okay. What about Dylan and Meredith? Were they permitted to know because they were family? What were the rules?

Torrin was not Emma’s soul mate. Of that she was quite sure and he didn’t appear to know that she was a werewolf. He’d only mentioned Kole.

She reached her car, but Torrin grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Emma, I know what I saw.”

“Saw?” She wished she could block out what Torrin was about to say. If he said it out loud, she’d have to do something about it.

Torrin scrunched his face up as if he were in pain then, seeming to realize he had a tight grip on her, he let her go and stepped between her and her car. Glancing in either direction down the sidewalk, he whispered, “I saw him go from a man to... an animal.”

“Animal?”

“He changed, Emma. I was still on the porch after the rest of you had called it a night. I was too excited about the radio opportunity. I couldn’t sleep so I sat on the swing in the dark.” He leaned against the car door and Emma had no hope of escaping.

“I heard something in the woods. Something big. As I watched the trees, a huge brown wolf came out. It was massive.” Torrin’s eyes grew wide and he covered his mouth, shaking his head, as if reliving the moment in his head disturbed him. “I was ready to bolt inside, but then the wolf shimmered and suddenly Kole was standing there instead.”

He looked as if he were about to vomit all over the sidewalk, and Emma felt terrible. She probably would have reacted in much the same way if she’d discovered what Kole was without being a werewolf herself. The story was easy to believe and accept when you’d turned into a wolf yourself.

“He’s a werewolf, Emma. They’re real.” He rummaged around in the bag slung across his chest and produced an ancient-looking book. “I found this in the library.”

Emma took the book, not sure what else to do. So far, she hadn’t said anything to confirm or deny his suspicions. She had to remain neutral. Appear normal. Fix this. Somehow.

The book was bound in navy-blue leather, fancy swirls etched into the borders of the covers and the side binding. The Way of the Wolf was scrawled in elegant script across the front cover. Slowly, Emma opened the book and carefully—as the pages were thin and frail—she flipped through the first chapter where words like lupine, canis, metamorphosis, and irreversible jumped out at her.

Schooling her expression, she snapped the book closed and pushed it back at Torrin though a part of her wanted to take it back to her room and comb through the pages. It’d be nice to know more than what Reardon had explained to her.

“This is just a book, Torrin. Total fiction.” She tried to move around him to get in her car, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Not fiction, Emma, dammit. They file it in the reference section. I asked about that and the librarian got real sketchy about the why of it, as if she were hiding something.” He jammed the book into his bag and clamped his hands on her biceps. “Listen to me. Kole is dangerous. You need to get away from him. We can pack up the van and be out of here today.”

“No, we can’t.” Emma thrust her hand back toward the diner. “We need to stay in Vermont while we’re getting air time here. We have to make the most of our chance. It’s better to stay local. Besides, we have more songs to write and all those business card leads to look into. We’ve only been here a few days. We said we would stay a few weeks.”

Although, if she had her way, she’d be making Vermont her permanent residence.

“You’re not hearing me.” He shook her. “The man is a monster, Emma. You can’t be with him. He’ll hurt you. He could... oh, God, he could turn you.”

Emma let out a gasp and Torrin’s gaze snapped up to hers. She tried to squirm out of his grip, but his hold was iron tight.

Narrowing his eyes, Torrin stared at her. “He already has, hasn’t he? You’re one of them.” He released her and started backpedaling away from her. “Now it makes sense why you’re so taken with him and so quickly. He turned you.”

“Torrin.” She took a step toward him. “You’re being ridiculous.”

His arms whipped up, his hands out flat to her. “No, no. Stay back. You’re not going to bite me.”

A few passersby on the sidewalk around them slowed their walking to look at them. Emma gave them smiles and what she hoped was a reassuring look.

“He’s practicing for a play. Good, isn’t he?”

Some nodded and continued on their way while others gave Torrin a look as if he might be crazy. Fortunately, they too kept walking.

“Torrin, get over here.” She stopped progressing toward him because every step she took forward, he took back. “Let’s get in the car and go somewhere to talk about this nonsense.”

Torrin shook his head. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Emma, but I will find a way to make you better. He won’t get away with what’s he done to you. I’ll make him pay.”

Make him pay? Jesus. She had to stop him before he did something stupid or dangerous or stupidly dangerous.

As she was about to plead with him once again to get in the car, the familiar rumble of a motorcycle made her look to the street. Kole gave her a wave and pulled his bike into the parking space beside her car. He yanked off his helmet and under any other circumstances she would have enjoyed the smile he sent her way, the heat in his eyes when he looked at her, the muscles showcased beneath his jeans as he swung his leg over his bike and approached her.

When he got closer, he paused and she knew he was reading her thoughts.

Torrin knows. He knows what we are.

Kole’s crystal blue eyes shot to Torrin. How?

He saw you change last night at the inn.

Gods be damned. I thought I heard something on the porch.

What do we do?

“You get away from her!” Torrin yelled, earning the attention of everyone on the street now. “Don’t you touch her!”

We have to contain him, Kole said.

How? Emma was out of options and now the crowd was getting larger. Some people had their phones out too.

Follow my lead. Kole grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the car. “I’m not getting away from her, Torrin. She’s mine. She doesn’t love you. She loves me.”

Torrin shook his head and took a few steps toward them as Kole opened the car door and nudged Emma inside. “You’re controlling her somehow. Emma’s not herself.”

Kole let out a laugh that made him sound maniacal. “Emma is absolutely who she was meant to be, and you have two choices, Torrin. One, you can keep walking down that street and be out of her life forever or two, you can get in this car and we’ll work out something that’s good for everyone. What’s it going to be?”

The crowd around them shifted their attention to Torrin, eager for his response. Emma feared that several of them had gotten this entire display on video or had called the police. She and Kole had to get Torrin off the street right now.

She started the car and rolled down her window. “Come on, Torrin. You’re my best friend. Get in the car and we’ll sort this out.”

When he didn’t move right away, Kole said, “Suit yourself, lad.” He got into the driver’s seat, closed the door, and clenched his hands on the wheel. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What if he doesn’t come with us? We can’t force him with all these witnesses.”

“I don’t have another plan, Beauty. This is it.”

That didn’t make her feel any better.

Through the windshield, she watched as Torrin battled with himself. She felt awful for putting him through this. He wasn’t supposed to ever find out. Why hadn’t Kole been more careful when shifting?

“How was I supposed to know he’d be on that porch at that hour of the night?”

She touched Kole’s arm. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault. My mind’s all over the place right now.” So all over the place that she hadn’t noticed Torrin approaching the car, people in the crowd warning him back or cheering him on.

When the back passenger door opened and he slid into the seat, she turned to him. “Give us the chance to talk, okay?”

Torrin nodded and looked at Kole. “Don’t hurt Emma. Or me.”

“I would never.”

Kole jerked Emma’s car out of the parking spot and sped down the street away from Rosie’s Diner and the audience they’d collected. He looked at Torrin in the rearview mirror. “Thank you for coming with us.”

“What choice did I have?”

A loud click sounded. As Emma turned to look back at Torrin, he raised a gun to Kole’s neck.

“Torrin!”

“Be quiet, Emma. I can fix all of this.” He poked the nose of the gun into Kole’s flesh. “You keep driving. Get us out of this town.”

Emma wanted to ask where Torrin had gotten the gun, but she was afraid violating his be quiet edict might get Kole killed. Werewolves couldn’t heal bullet wounds to the head.

If he died, she’d die right alongside him.

They rode on, Kole’s mind screaming inside hers. I love Emma. I love Emma. I love Emma.

I love you too.

Still, the sentence kept replaying. Over and over again.

Emma committed Kole’s profile to memory as Torrin held the gun firmly, his finger poised over the trigger. She could hardly breathe. She concentrated on the set of Kole’s jaw, the muscles clenched there, the determination in his blue eyes, and realized he was blocking her out of his mind with the I love Emma line.

What are you planning, Kole? Suddenly her wolf prowled around close to the surface and she feared the adrenaline pumping through her would force a shift she couldn’t afford right now. She hadn’t spent that much time in wolf form, but one shift and she could overpower Torrin, assuming he didn’t squeeze off a shot first.

Don’t, Emma. Kole glanced at her without moving his head. Trust me.

As the streets of Canville faded behind them, she hoped trusting Kole was the right thing to do.

Chapter Eighteen

A million what-ifs ran through Kole’s mind as that gun pressed against the back of his neck. What if he’d been more careful about shifting last night? What if Torrin hadn’t been on that porch? What if Vermont had never been a stop on Kole’s cross-country tour? What if he’d never met Emma?

What if something happened to Emma?

No. I won’t let that happen.

“Where did you get that gun, Torrin?” Emma’s voice was gentle, but Kole could smell her anxiety.

“This is Vermont, Emma. Even Gran probably has a gun back at the inn,” Torrin said.

“She does,” Emma said, and Kole realized she was trying to keep him talking. “A family of bears once got into the dumpster in the parking lot. She banged some pans to scare them away, but they kept coming back. She was afraid one of the guests might get hurt, so she learned how to shoot and bought a gun. All she had to do was fire it once and those bears ran off. Haven’t been back again.”

“Maybe the same will apply to werewolves,” Torrin said. “Fire this gun once and this guy,” he pushed the nose of the gun deeper into Kole’s neck, making Emma squeak beside him, “will run off.”

“How will you keep me from running off too then?” Emma asked.

In the rearview mirror, Kole saw Torrin give Emma sad eyes. Finding out the woman you’ve been in a band with for years—and who you were not quite over yet—was a werewolf had to fuck with your mind.

“I haven’t figured that out yet,” Torrin said. “But I will. We’re going to fix you, Emma.”

Kole soon realized he was heading for the steelyard in Appleton. He had no idea what he’d do once he got there, but a remote and quiet place seemed like a good choice.

“You did the research.” Emma gestured to Torrin’s bag. “Werewolfism is not reversible.”

Torrin smoothed his free hand over his bag. “This is only one source. I’ll find something to help you, Emma. We’ll put things back the way they were.”

“What if I don’t want to go back?”

“What?” Torrin’s voice was loud and the lad’s hand shook, causing the gun to tremble ever so slightly.

Careful, Kole warned Emma.

“You don’t know how I feel about what’s happened, Torrin. You don’t have the whole story.” Again, Emma’s tone was even and soothing. Just hearing it relaxed Kole despite the situation. Another reason why he had to keep her safe. If she wasn’t around, he’d be unsettled all the time.

And heartbroken.

Same is true for me, Beast. I couldn’t go on without you.

Kole desperately wanted to reach across and take Emma’s hand, but that would be suicide.

“I don’t need the whole story to know you don’t belong with him, Emma.” Torrin shook his head, his gun hand steady now.

Emma was quiet for a long moment as the car bumped along the road. The steelyard finally came into view.

What is this place? Emma asked.

This is where I found Shawn.

I thought you found him looking for aspirin.

Aye, and I let you think that. I’m sorry.

A low growl of disapproval sounded in Emma’s throat as Kole pulled the car to a stop in front of the steel building. He reached out with his mind, but didn’t sense his brother around anywhere.

Good. He didn’t want anyone else getting involved here. He also didn’t want to bring trouble to Shawn when he clearly didn’t want to have anything to do with Kole.

Emma turned in the passenger seat to face Torrin. “Maybe you’re right.”

“About?” Torrin eyed her suspiciously.

“About me being with Kole. Maybe it’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Maybe I had a good thing going with you and I blew it. Maybe you’ll never want to have anything to do with me ever again because of what I am now.” She lowered her head into her hands, covering her face as she cried.

Instinctively, Kole wanted to comfort her, but her mind screaming in his stopped him.

You got us away from the crowd back in Canville safely, she thought. I’ll take it from here. When you see an opportunity, take it.

Her shoulders shook as she cried and Kole wondered how she managed the real tears.

Easy. I think of Torrin killing you.

She made little hiccupping sounds then cried a little louder.

“Emma, don’t cry,” Torrin pleaded. “You know I can’t stand to see you cry.”

“I’ve made a mess of everything.” Her words came out on panting breaths as she sobbed.

“No, honey, no. You haven’t.”

As Torrin reached out his free hand to stroke the back of Emma’s head, Kole turned in a lightning quick motion and grabbed the nose of the gun. He wrenched it free of Torrin’s grasp and turned it on the lad.

Emma sat up and wiped her eyes as Torrin’s gaze darted between them.

“Your tears... you never thought we should be together.” Torrin’s voice was soft now, defeated.

“You and I are not destined to be like that, Torrin.” Emma reached for his hand and to Kole’s surprise, he let her take it. “We are destined, however, to be in a world-famous band together. We’re destined to be the good friends that we are—the good friends I hope we’ll always be.”

As a range of emotions played across Torrin’s face, Kole emptied the bullets from the gun and put them in his jacket pocket along with the weapon.

“I promise to take good care of Emma,” Kole said. “Very good care.”

“You call turning her into an animal taking care of her?” Torrin thrust his free hand at Emma. His other one Emma still held. “She’s a werewolf because of you.”

“That was an accident.” An accident that had turned out to be a wonderful thing for Kole. A wonderful thing that he wanted to spend his life enjoying. “I never would have bitten her on purpose without her consent.”

“Torrin, I’m okay with him turning me. Kole and I are soul mates, a special kind of pairing for werewolves, and believe me, I’ve never felt better physically.”

Rustling around in his bag, Torrin pulled out a book and flipped through the pages. “So this is true?” He tapped a finger on the page then looked up at Emma. “Werewolves have exceptional health, the ability to heal, and longer lifespans.”

“All that is true,” Kole said. “However, you mentioned me turning you.”

Torrin’s eyes grew wide. “Please, no. Don’t. I don’t want that.”

“I can’t. That’s what I wanted you to know. I’m not a natural werewolf. I was made by one, but I don’t have the ability to turn everyone into a werewolf. Only my soul mate. Only Emma.”

Torrin looked at Emma. “So you can’t change me either? Because we’re not soul mates?”

“Nope. You are perfectly safe in our company,” Emma said with a smile.

Slowly, a smile spread on Torrin’s lips. “You’re still Emma.”

“I’m still Emma.”

A part of Kole—a big part—wanted to stop Torrin as he reached between the seats to hug Emma, but he knew that would undo all the progress she’d made in talking her friend out of doing something rash.

Torrin released her. “I’m sorry, Kole. About the gun.”

“You thought you were protecting Emma,” Kole said. “I can’t hold a grudge about that. I hope you’ll continue to protect her.”

Emma launched her fist into Kole’s shoulder then pointed at herself. “Werewolf, aye? I can protect myself.”

“Let’s hope that’s true. What the hell are you doing here?”

Kole turned to meet Shawn’s steel gaze as he leaned his hands against the driver’s door frame and narrowed his slightly glowing eyes.

Torrin moved to the passenger side of the back seat. “Shit. This guy is one too.” He nearly ripped the pages in his book as he turned them. “Werewolves have glowing eyes when their wolf forms are close to the surface.”

“A+ for you, Skippy,” Shawn said. When his gaze fell on Emma, the left side of his mouth turned up in a smile Kole didn’t like at all. His brother angled his head one way then the other as if trying to take in all of Emma’s beauty. “A+ for you too, sweet lass.”

A growl rumbled out of Kole’s throat and he threw open the driver’s door, forcing Shawn to back up. “She’s mine.”

“Having to label her shouts insecurity, brother.” Shawn folded his arms across his chest.

“This is your brother?” Emma asked from inside the car. She got out, as did Torrin, but Emma came around to Kole’s side.

Torrin did not. He leaned against the car as if using it as a shield.

Shawn held out his hand to Emma. “Brother, aye. The more attractive one. Shawn McMannus.” He dropped a kiss on the back of her hand, but his gaze was trained on Kole, baiting him, willing him to flip out.

Kole’s wolf wanted to flip out. It was right there, pacing, bumping its head against Kole’s control, wanting to rip his brother away from Emma.

“Easy.” Emma put her free hand on Kole’s arm. “Your thoughts are wild right now.”

“Aye,” Shawn said. “You might want to take an anger management course or something, Kole.”

Kole’s wolf snapped. In two seconds, his wolf form exploded through his clothes and he charged at Shawn.

Kole! Emma’s voice rang out in his head, but he ignored her as Shawn’s wolf tore free, his prosthetic leg dropping atop his tattered jeans and T-shirt.

“A three-legged werewolf?” Torrin let out a scared shout when Shawn bared his teeth and made a move to jump over the car to get to him.

Fortunately, Kole got between them and tackled his brother to the ground.

Want to go a few rounds? Shawn asked, his jaws snapping at Kole’s muzzle.

Kole nipped back. Didn’t we do this already this week?

Not with a clear winner. Shawn flipped Kole over and pounced on top of him. Time to change that.

“Emma, come to this side of the car!” Torrin shouted.

As he and his brother tumbled and bit and scratched and growled on the dusty ground, Kole was vaguely aware of Emma talking to Torrin.

“You should get out of here, Torrin,” she said.

“Hell, no. I know you can probably hold your own in that fight going on over there, but I’m not leaving you here. No way.”

Kole had to hand it to the lad. He was loyal.

“Fine,” Emma said. “At least get in the car and stay there. Close the windows. Lock the doors.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

Kole couldn’t keep track of Emma anymore as Shawn’s teeth closed around his neck. They fought like a couple of rabid dogs, snarling and tearing at each other. For a wolf with only three legs, Shawn had remarkable balance and power. His strength was truly matched to Kole’s, as it had been in the ring last night.

As it had been on the battlefield, Shawn thought.

Also true. Many times Kole and his brother had taken down an equal share of enemies. They’d even had a running tally of the casualties they’d caused. More often than not, the score was tied.

What are we doing, Shawn? Kole didn’t want to fight his only brother. He’d spent all this time looking for him.

But what took you so fucking long? Shawn swiped at Kole’s face with a clawed paw.

Kole tasted blood and shook his massive head. I did my best. I had no idea where to look.

You found Jaemus and Reardon.

Clues led me to them. There were no clues for you.

Shouldn’t have needed clues, Kole. I’m your brother.

So that was it. Shawn wasn’t angry. He was hurt.

You’re damn right. Physically and... more.

Kole extracted himself from the fight and licked blood off his scratched nose. He was about to tell Shawn how sorry he was, but suddenly the sky darkened and a white mist rolled toward them.

He felt the goddess before he saw her.

****

Flidae’s beauty astounded Emma. The first time she’d seen the goddess had been when Kylie had changed. Emma had been too concerned with keeping the pup safe to get a solid look at Flidae. Now, with her silken black hair streaming around her absolutely perfect face, no one would ever mistake her for a mere human. She wore a long, green dress with leafy designs that rustled with their own self-created breeze. Emma let out a gasp when some red-winged blackbirds fluttered out of the dress’s layered skirts and took to the skies.

With a flash of light, Kole and Shawn changed back into men. Bloody scratches and purpling bruises littered their bare skin at first, but then started to heal. Shawn balanced for a moment on his one leg, but immediately wobbled.

Without thinking, Emma rushed forward, scooted under his arm, and wrapped her arms around his waist to steady him.

“Oh,” Flidae said, her form becoming more solid as her feet—or hooves—touched the ground. “Do you have an affinity for this brother too, she-wolf?”

“Umm... no. I just... didn’t want to see him fall.” Emma looked up into Shawn’s odd gray eyes, her arms around his naked body suddenly feeling ridiculously inappropriate.

Slowly, she eased up on her grip and helped Shawn lower to the ground. He never stopped staring at her.

Why did you help me? his mind asked.

Because you’re important to Kole, Emma thought back. And he’s important to me.

A single name flashed from Shawn. Jessica.

Who’s Jessica? Emma asked.

Doesn’t matter. Get out of my head. With that, Shawn’s thoughts locked down.

As Emma backed away and got closer to Kole, Shawn reached for his leg.

“I didn’t say to touch that.” Flidae let out a little spark from her fingertips and Shawn retracted his hand, rubbing the back of it where the goddess’s power had zapped him.

“Not done humiliating me yet?” Shawn’s voice was gritty. “Bitch.”

Emma clamped her hand over her mouth and moved to Kole’s side where he put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed her against him.

Flidae narrowed her eyes at Shawn then set her gaze on Kole. “Your brother has developed a disrespectful tone when it comes to me.” The grin on her lips told Emma the goddess considered Shawn amusing. “His language gets extremely colorful whenever I’m around.”

“Send me back to Ireland, my time, and I’ll respect the hell out of you.” Shawn repositioned on the ground, not looking comfortable. Though anger at Flidae now dominated his mind, Emma sensed two other things in Shawn’s head—disgrace over being seen without his leg and loneliness, especially when he noticed how she clung to Kole. She’d clung to Shawn for only a few moments, but it’d apparently been enough to awake something in him. Something involving this Jessica woman, no doubt.

“Poor wolf fighter.” Flidae float-walked over to Shawn, her form growing larger with each step. “This time has not been kind to you, has it? Such a shame.” She gestured to Kole and Emma with one slender hand. “Look at your brother. He seems to love this place and this time. Your two cousins as well.”

“Some people get all the good stuff.” Shawn rested his hands over his thigh as if trying to mask the amputation.

“And you’re not one of those people, are you, wolf fighter?” Flidae shook her head, her hair cascading about her shoulders. She crouched down to Shawn and leaned toward his ear. Despite all his bravado, his body shook slightly having the goddess that close. “You’re not trying hard enough.”

“He’s trying hard,” Kole said. “He survived. After you dumped him on train tracks, he survived.”

Flidae turned her attention to Kole. Emma wished he’d remained quiet. The goddess had seemed to forget they were there while taunting Shawn. Not that Emma had come up with any semblance of a plan for getting out of there while Flidae was ignoring them. Still, the ignoring had been nice.

The goddess’s gaze flicked to Emma. “You’re not getting out of here until I deem it so, she-wolf.” She hovered over them. “And we have a few things to discuss before anyone goes anywhere.” She angled her head to the side and looked into the car where Torrin was a tight ball in the back seat. “First, there is the matter of that human who knows too much.”

Emma took a step forward. “Don’t hurt him. Please. He won’t tell anyone.” At least she didn’t think he would.

“Not sure, are you?”

Damn. She’d forgotten that Flidae had full access to everything in her head.

“That’s right. I hear it all.” Flidae looked at Kole. “And this wolf soldier doesn’t particularly like that human in the car.”

Emma gave Kole a sharp elbow.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “She’s in here.” He tapped his forehead.

“And he did hold a weapon up to one of my wolves.” Flidae scraped her fingernail along the rear driver side window then blew a breath on it. A second later, the entire window spiderwebbed with long, jagged tracks reaching out from the center. With the flick of her hand, the glass dropped into the car, landing on the seat beside Torrin.

“Please, I can forget what I saw, what I know. You don’t have to kill me.” Torrin pressed his hands together in prayer format. “You don’t have to kill me.”

“Lad, my wolves fell out of my favor for killing. Do you think that is how I would deal with you?” Flidae shrunk down in size and reached her arm into the car. One touch to Torrin’s cheek had him moving closer to Flidae.

He opened the car door as Emma’s breath caught in her chest. She wanted to race toward Torrin. Get between him and the goddess, but her feet weren’t under her command.

Neither are mine, Kole said. Flidae has frozen us in place.

Emma looked back at Shawn. Can you get up?

Shawn shook his head. She’s controlling us.

“Simply because I can, wolves.” A laugh rolled out of her and made Emma shiver. She turned back to Torrin. “Come out here, human.”

Flidae released him and stepped back so he could get out of the car. Standing before her, his eyes were wide with fear and Emma realized he wasn’t in control of his body either.

“My talents are many, she-wolf.” Raising her hands, she gripped the sides of Torrin’s face and he let out a strangled cry. “What you’ve seen, unsee. What you’ve heard, unhear. What you’ve learned, unlearn. Your mind is erased of all knowledge pertaining to werewolves.” She tipped up his chin so he had to meet her gaze. “Werewolves do not exist.”

With a clap of her hands, Kole and Shawn were fully clothed and flanking Emma. Shawn looked down and lifted his left boot.

“You can erase his mind of werewolves with your magic tricks, but you won’t fix this, will you?” He wiggled his boot at Flidae.

She shook her head.

“Why the fuck not?”

Emma cringed at Shawn’s boldness. Maybe when you’ve lost what he had, you didn’t give a damn anymore.

“Because I don’t wish to. We’ve had this conversation many times, Shawn McMannus.”

He opened his mouth, but Emma grabbed his wrist and dug her nails in. “Please. Don’t.”

“You’d do well to listen to her advice, wolf fighter.” Flidae walked in a circle around Torrin whose blank stare worried Emma. “No need to fret. I’m just tidying things up in here.” She thrust her fingers into Torrin’s hair from behind him, massaging his scalp until his eyes closed.

As Flidae touched Torrin, Emma couldn’t stop her mind from wandering to Brandy’s son and mother and Nika, all of whom were humans with knowledge of werewolf existence. Why hadn’t their minds been erased?

Flidae released Torrin and let his body crumple to the ground. Emma tried again to go to him, but found her legs unresponsive. She blinked and Flidae was standing directly in front of her.

“The lad in Reardon McAlator’s care has an important duty to fulfill. His Fate is tied to his knowledge of werewolves. Jaemus’s mate will be turned in time and Meredith Wendon is an old soul. Your secret is more than safe with them. This lad, though,” she pointed to Torrin on the ground, “doesn’t need to know that werewolves exist. His Destiny had nothing to do with my wild things.” She ran a fingertip along Emma’s jaw, making Emma tremble. So much power rested in that one touch. “Not that I should have to explain myself to you, she-wolf.”

“That’s why I didn’t ask the question out loud,” Emma said.

“How polite.” Flidae looked at Shawn then Kole. “Are you two done battling each other or is there more fun to watch?”

Kole shook his head as his grip on Emma’s shoulders tightened. “I’m done fighting.”

“Why stick around for a battle you can’t win, aye?” Shawn folded his arms across his chest, all signs of the vulnerability Emma had sensed long gone now.

“There shouldn’t be a battle between us, Shawn. Not between you and me. Blood binds us. That should rise above everything else.” Kole’s shoulders sagged as if that short speech had taxed him, and Emma moved closer, sensing he wanted her to. He took her hand and pressed it to his chest. “I have this amazing woman who loves me, despite turning her without her consent.”

“And breaking my favorite fiddle,” Emma added.

Kole squeezed her hand harder against him. “And breaking her favorite fiddle. The only thing that is missing now, Shawn, is you, my brother. If I have the two of you, I have everything I need.”

Emma peeked at Flidae. The goddess’s eyes were strangely soft, as if the emotions Kole had so honestly shared had... affected her. Emma remembered Flidae saying she could experience some degree of emotions through her wild things.

Aye, this is one of those times, she-wolf.

Compassion welled up in Emma as she felt the goddess’s loneliness, ten times stronger than what she’d felt from Shawn earlier.

I’ve had centuries upon centuries to feel this, Flidae said with a sigh. Its strength grows. And the one human emotion I really want to enjoy is not allowed for me.

Emma searched for something comforting to say, but she was suddenly cut off from Flidae, an unscalable wall around the goddess now. Flidae tilted her head up, looking regal and immune to petty human feelings.

“I have other matters to attend to.” Flidae smiled at Kole. “You’ve done something worthy, Kole McMannus. Nearly more than one something actually.” She held up a hand when Kole opened his mouth to question her. “You’ll see. And I can sense that like your cousins, Reardon and Jaemus, you no longer wish to return to Ireland of your time. Is this true?”

Kole took Emma’s hands in his. “What do you say, Beauty? I want to be wherever you are.”

“Ireland of this time is my home,” Emma said, “but something feels so right about staying here in Vermont, doesn’t it?”

“Aye.” He dropped a quick kiss on her lips, making her want so much more. “We’ll stay.”

Flidae’s eyes looked misty when she nodded then turned her attention to Torrin still slumped over on the ground. “This human is taken care of. See that no one else learns your secrets, wolves.”

With that warning, the white mist spiraled up from the dirt and surrounded Flidae. When the wind blew away the mist, the goddess was gone.

Emma, Kole, and Shawn stood in silence for several moments. When Torrin moaned from his position on the ground, Emma went to him and helped him sit up.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

“As if I drank too many pints.” He rubbed his head.

“That’ll teach you to go out drinking with these two.” Emma arrowed a thumb over her shoulder toward Shawn and Kole.

Brilliant, Kole thought.

Emma smiled, but stayed next to Torrin. “Do you think you can stand?”

“Aye.” Leaning heavily on Emma, Torrin got to his feet and looked at Shawn and Kole. “Jesus, how drunk did I get? I don’t even know that other guy.”

With a glance to Kole, Shawn stepped forward, his hand stretched out to Torrin. “I’m Shawn.” He paused, saying so much with a simple nod to Kole. “I’m Kole’s brother.”

Emma closed her eyes, reveling in the true brotherly connection between Kole and Shawn. She stood and let Torrin and Shawn shake hands as she hugged Kole.

“Where the hell are we?” Torrin turned around in a wobbly circle, looking the part of a musician who had imbibed a bit too heavily.

Emma imagined the effects of Flidae’s mind cleansing were similar to that of alcoholic overindulgence. “We went for a drive after going out to drink. We didn’t want Gran to see us like this.”

“It’s too early in the day to be sloshed.” Shawn squinted up to the sky where the springtime sun beamed brightly.

Torrin pulled up his jacket sleeve and checked his watch. “Holy shit. I don’t think I’ve ever been drunk at noon.” Then he gave Emma a smile. “But we were celebrating, aye? Our radio opportunity?”

“Aye. We should be hearing Hendrake on the radio tomorrow.”

Torrin pumped his fist in the air then did a crazy dance only a man who thought he might be drunk could do. He hooked his arm with Emma’s and spun her around. “We’re going to be famous, Emma. Famous!” He released her with a twirl that made her dizzy then stopped dancing abruptly and pointed at Shawn. “Have you heard our stuff, Kole’s brother?”

Shawn’s lips twitched as if he were trying not to laugh at Torrin being such a clown. “No, I haven’t.”

“Well, that won’t do.” He rustled around in his bag and pulled out two things.

Hendrake’s demo CD.

And a book.

Chapter Nineteen

Kole snatched the book out of Torrin’s hand. Why hadn’t Flidae made The Way of the Werewolf disappear as she’d made Torrin’s memory of werewolves?

I can’t do everything for you, wolf soldier. Flidae’s laugh echoed between his ears.

“Thanks for holding this.” Emma took the book from Kole. “After seeing Brandy’s wolves, I had this crazy song idea.” She wiggled the book. “Glad you were able to get this for me, Torrin.” She hugged it to her chest and started for the car. “C’mon, lads. It’s time we got back to the inn. Torrin and I need to work on more new material with Blaithin and Flynn.” She pointed at Kole and Shawn. “And you two need to do whatever it is that brothers do in their free time together.”

Kole watched her, in awe of her quick thinking yet again. Torrin crinkled his brow for a moment, but then appeared to accept Emma’s explanation. Gods be damned, she was a treasure and thankfully, all his.

Your second something worthy, Flidae said. Gaining the love of your soul mate.

Aye. He intended to keep that love. Forever.

As Emma and Torrin climbed into the back seat of the car and closed the door, Kole turned to face his brother. “Are you coming? We could go see Brandy’s wolves at the sanctuary. You didn’t get a chance to meet them all. Being around them is good for people like us. Do you get headaches if in human form too long?”

Shawn shook his head. “No headaches. Even if I did get them, I’d still prefer human form.” He clapped a hand to his left thigh. “Being in wolf form means I’m minus a leg.”

Kole gestured to the disturbed dirt on the ground where they had wrestled. “You did fine on three legs.”

“It’s crazy what you learn to do when you have to.” He shrugged and walked toward the car. “I suppose I could meet some wolves.” He pointed back at the steel building. “I do need to be back here for tonight though.”

“You’re still going to fight?” Kole had hoped that was over.

“I still have a leg to pay for.”

The name Jessica flashed in both their minds and Shawn gave him a sideways glare.

“Don’t ask. We can be family again, but I’m not ready to share all my secrets yet.”

“Understood.” Kole motioned to the car. “After you.”

Emma babbled on about the meeting with the radio DJ on the ride back to the inn and Kole was grateful. He knew if anyone could make Shawn feel more comfortable among them, his Emma could. His brother had even laughed a few times as Emma and Torrin told stories about their time in high school band together.

“Did you always want to play the fiddle?” Shawn asked Emma.

“Aye. My grandfather played and he got me started. I fell in love with it from the first pluck.”

“She’s good too. Very good.” Kole looked at her in the rearview mirror, loving how her cheeks colored at the compliment.

“Let’s hope the 104PYK listening area feels the same.” Torrin nudged Emma’s arm.

“They will,” Kole said. “This is it for you guys.”

Emma rested her hand on his shoulder as he pulled into the inn’s parking lot. Gods, he loved her so much. He wanted all her dreams to come true.

You’ve made some of them come true already, Beast. She leaned between the seats and pressed a kiss to his cheek then smiled at Shawn. “It was nice to meet you, even if you got Torrin toasted.”

Shawn gave her a slow grin. “If he’s going to play with the big boys...”

Torrin groaned. “If I’m going to play with the big boys, I’m ordering water next time.” He opened his car door. “Thanks for the celebrating, though I don’t remember much of it.” He shook Kole’s and Shawn’s hands. “I’ll round up Blaithin and Flynn. Meet you on the porch, Emma?”

“Aye. Give me a few.”

Nodding, Torrin climbed out of the car and headed up the front steps of Deer Creek Inn. He was a little wobbly on his legs and paused midway. When he finally reached the door and went inside, Emma blew out a breath and leaned her forehead on the seat in front of her.

“Not the morning you were expecting?” Shawn asked.

She shook her head. “Not at all. I thought Flidae was going to kill him.”

“And it would have been my fault.” Kole rubbed the back of his neck. “I know better than to shift in view of anyone.”

“It was late and dark.” Emma gave him a reassuring look. “You couldn’t have known Torrin was on that porch.”

“It all worked out,” Shawn said. “Flidae’s magic and booze have the same effects.”

“Aye.” Kole couldn’t believe his brother was sitting beside him in the car. It had all worked out indeed. Maybe in time he could get the Jessica story out of him and see what could be worked out there.

“Okay.” Emma wiggled the werewolf book she still held. “Guess I have a werewolf song to write about now.”

“Make it about finding soul mates,” Kole suggested.

Emma grinned. “Maybe I will.”

With another kiss to his cheek and a squeeze to Shawn’s arm, she exited the car and jogged into the inn.

“Well, she’s fucking adorable. Officially,” Shawn said.

“Aye. And she loves me. That’s the crazy part.” Kole stared at the inn’s front door. A big part of him wanted to run after her and show her how much he loved her, but there’d be time for that. Hopefully tonight.

All night.

“How do you...” Shawn paused then asked, “How do you know if someone is your soul mate?”

“Well, for me, I knew because I bit her and she turned. She wouldn’t have turned if she wasn’t my soul mate. Made werewolves like us can only turn our soul mates.” Kole started the car again and headed for the sanctuary. “I think I knew she was something special though when I first met her. She immediately interested me. And she smelled downright delicious. As if I had to get a taste.”

“And she doesn’t hate your guts for turning her?”

“She was pretty upset at first, but think about it. After Reardon turned us, we still followed him into battle. We still considered him our leader.”

“Aye, I only hated him after we got dumped here.” Shawn massaged his left thigh and Kole couldn’t imagine what it was like to live with the memory of having one’s leg ripped off by a train. Almost being chewed apart by real wolves had been scary enough, and he’d emerged unscathed. He’d even made a family out of those wolves.

“Werewolves have a unique bond,” Kole said. “I spent some time with Reardon and Jaemus and couldn’t hold on to the anger. They’re different in this time too.”

“I noticed that in the short time I spent with them. It’s like meeting their soul mates mellowed them out some.”

“They’re also not on the battlefield. No need to be bloodthirsty. When you’re not constantly fighting, you have time to be mellow.” He turned onto the road leading to Silver Moon. “You also have time for love.”

“Well, I’m still fighting, brother. It’s the only thing I’m good at.”

“That’s what I thought at first too. You might change your mind.”

As they pulled up to the sanctuary’s entrance gate, Dylan jogged over and opened it, giving Kole an enthusiastic wave. Kole was reminded of Flidae’s words about the lad being important to werewolves somehow. What role could a human boy possibly play?

Before he could think about that too much, Kylie came running over, a smile full of sunshine on her face. Kole was out of Emma’s car almost before he parked it.

Kylie launched herself onto Kole and he stumbled back a bit as he caught her around the shoulders. Her hold was tight, as if they’d known each other for centuries, not days.

“Hey, pixie. I didn’t expect to see you here today.” But gods, he was happy to be hugging her.

She peered up at him, those big, brown eyes undoing him. “After Emma called the home and said she couldn’t make it over there, Meredith picked me up and said, ‘It’s too nice outside for you to be inside, kid,’ so here I am.”

“Emma wanted to come, but we had a... situation come up.” Kole glanced over his shoulder at Shawn.

“That’s okay. I know she wanted to visit me.” Kylie studied her sneakers for a moment.

Kole tipped up her head with a finger under her chin. “She definitely did, Kylie. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

Nodding, she pointed at Dylan who was busy closing up the entrance gate. “I don’t think he wanted to see me today though.”

“Why not? I thought you kids were friends.”

“We are, but he’s been acting weird since last night.” She shrugged and loosened her grip around Kole’s waist.

He tugged on her hair. “I’ll bet it’s because he thought you were pretty last night in that dress Emma gave you.”

Kylie frowned as she released Kole and took a few steps back, her hands going to her hips. “If he thought I looked pretty, why is he ignoring me today?”

“He’s a lad. Lads aren’t always sure what to do when they think a lass is pretty. It gets them all knotted up inside.”

“Do you get all knotted up inside when you see Emma?”

“Definitely, but it’s a good all knotted up.” He motioned at Dylan as the boy jogged over to them. “Give him some time, Kylie. He’ll figure it all out.”

“Boys are so s-l-o-w.” She rolled her eyes then pointed at Shawn who had been petting Lug. “Who’s he?”

“C’mon. I want you to meet him.” Kole led Kylie over to Shawn as Dylan caught up. “Kylie, Dylan, this is my brother, Shawn.”

“You look like his brother,” Kylie said.

“Do I now?” Shawn squinted at her.

Kylie nodded, then she sniffed at the same time Shawn did. Shawn’s gaze snapped to Kole’s. “Why does she...” He bit back his words when he looked at Dylan.

“Why does she smell like a werewolf?” Dylan asked. “Because she is one.”

“A pup?” Shawn angled his head one way then the other at Kylie as if he couldn’t believe she existed. The fascination on his face softened his features and made him look more like the brother Kole remembered.

“A natural one even. She turned for the first time the other day. Reardon thinks it’s because she was surrounded by so many werewolves at one time and it sparked the change.”

“You’re one too.” Kylie sniffed again at Shawn. “What color are you?”

“Brown.” Shawn patted Lug still beside him. “Not as dark as this fellow though. You?”

“White.”

Kole put his hand on her shoulder. “A beautiful white, like fresh snow.”

“I’m kinda looking forward to winter,” Kylie said. “Wolves love snow, right?”

“Aye. That they do. We’ll have ourselves some good fun in the snow.” Kole gave her another squeeze then turned to Dylan. “Is Reardon here?”

“He’s working on fixing the doors on the barn. Uncle Jaemus is helping him. Lug will take you, won’t you, boy?” Dylan gave the brown wolf a scratch between the ears then nudged him toward the barn. “We have to get back to Gram, Kylie.”

“She sent us out to find rocks for an art project she’s going to do with our class at school,” Kylie explained.

“Sounds like fun,” Kole said.

“Yeah, Meredith is like a dream grandma.”

“You’re lucky Dylan is willing to share her with you.”

“It’s no big deal.” A pink-cheeked Dylan shrugged, but he slid a few awkward peeks at Kylie.

Shawn stifled a chuckle as Kole said, “We’ll check in with you kids before we leave, aye?”

Kylie pointed a finger at Kole. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Kole grabbed her finger, his heart hurting over the fact that she probably hadn’t been able to say goodbye to the family she’d lost in that plane crash. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

She and Dylan ran off in the direction of Meredith’s cabin, but Kylie glanced over her shoulder once at Kole.

“You want to keep her?” Shawn asked.

“Aye. She lives in Canville Children’s Home right now. Her parents and siblings were killed in a plane crash. She was the only survivor.”

“The notion of you being a father isn’t as crazy as I thought it would be.” Shawn shook his head. “And she’s a werewolf. Remarkable.”

“What’s remarkable is that I’m standing here with you. I know it didn’t happen fast enough, but I’ve truly been on the hunt for you, Shawn. I traveled all the way from Alaska, where I landed, across the country to Vermont, where I got word of a werewolf show that turned out to be Jaemus. So many times I believed I was close to finding you. So many times I was let down.”

“Maybe you weren’t supposed to find me until you did.” Shawn fell into step beside Kole as they walked toward the barn. “If you’d found me right after we were banished, you wouldn’t have been able to stand what had become of me. It was a bad time, Kole. A very bad time.”

“I can imagine. And to have been alone through such an ordeal...” Fresh guilt washed over Kole.

Shawn stopped walking for a moment. “Don’t. Don’t feel guilty. You had no way of knowing.” He cleared his throat. “Besides, I wasn’t alone.”

Kole paused, hoping Shawn would say more about Jessica and his time after banishment, but he didn’t. Instead he started toward the barn again with a slight, almost imperceptible limp.

Patience. Shawn would fill in all the details when he was ready. What was important now was that he had his brother back. Nothing would separate them again.

****

The next morning Emma, Torrin, Blaithin, and Flynn were glued to the old-fashioned radio in the inn’s library. Gran kept breezing in and out between tending to guests, asking if they’d heard Hendrake yet.

“She’s not going to play our stuff until the end of her shift, Gran,” Emma said.

“I know, I know. I’m just so excited.” Gran gave her a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you. All of you.”

The men took turns hugging Gran before she scurried out to finish up the breakfast round in the dining room.

“This waiting is going to kill me,” Flynn said.

“Let’s take the radio out to the porch and at least get some work done,” Torrin suggested.

Everyone agreed and out they went. Emma was so relieved that whatever Flidae had done to Torrin’s mind had stuck. He hadn’t acted weird or given any indication he’d known what she and Kole were. He hadn’t mentioned the werewolf book either, which she’d dropped off at the library just to get rid of it. There may have been a part of her that wanted him and the other guys to know—and a part that had wanted to read that damn book cover to cover—but it wasn’t meant to be. This was a secret she had to keep from them, and she’d learn about being a werewolf by... being a werewolf.

Kole had gone to work at the construction site with Reardon and Jaemus. Though he hadn’t wanted to leave her this morning—especially after the wake up she’d given him—he’d been excited about starting the job.

He’d come back after being with Shawn yesterday with an extra bounce in his step as if a weight had been lifted. She loved seeing him happy. They’d gone back to Rosie’s Diner in the evening to get his bike, then he’d taken her on a long ride. Sitting behind him on the motorcycle, hugging her front to his back and breathing him in as they rode, had aroused her more than she’d ever been in her life.

They’d found a scenic view area and parked to watch the sun set behind the mountains. When the moon filled the sky, Kole threw his head back and let out a howl, making Emma laugh. They’d shifted and run through the dark in wolf form, feeling more connected to the night, to Earth, to each other.

Their ride back to Deer Creek Inn had been as lovely. The night had grown chilly, but Kole had made quick work of heating her up with his kisses, caresses, and passionate lovemaking. She could officially repeat that night again and again for the rest of her life.

“What do you have on the wolf song, Emma?” Torrin asked now.

When she didn’t answer right away, Blaithin poked her. “Hey, the lad asked you a question, Emmy Bear. Stop daydreaming.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Like you’re not daydreaming about your dinner with Vix?”

Blaithin held his hands up in surrender. “Fair enough. My mind may have been on one sexy-as-hell radio DJ. We created quite a stir at Barnside Pub with my silver spikes and her blue streaks.” He patted his outrageous hair. “Did you know Vix—short for Victoria, by the way—used to live and work for a radio station in Las Vegas?”

“How did she end up in Vermont?” Emma asked.

“She got fed up with the noise in Las Vegas. Said she couldn’t think there. Her sister lives here in Vermont and she came to visit. Decided she liked the peace and quiet. Happened to hear about a radio job at 104PYK and that was that.”

“Are you going to see each other again?”

Blaithin nodded. “Dinner plans tonight.”

“Date number two,” Flynn said. “That’s one more than you usually get, isn’t it?”

Blaithin shot Flynn the middle finger. “Two more than you, bastard.”

Flynn laughed then looked to his lap. “This is unfortunately true.”

“Hey, stick around Vermont long enough and you might get lucky too,” Blaithin said. “Emma and I hit the jackpot.”

Emma sensed Torrin’s eyes on her before she met his gaze. She couldn’t read his thoughts, but she didn’t have to.

“You’re going to stay here, aren’t you?” he asked. “To be with Kole and that little girl.”

“Kylie, aye. I think I’m supposed to be here, you know?” She fiddled with the cover of the notebook she’d brought out to the porch with her. “I’ll tour with you guys, of course, when it gets to that, but I’d like to make Vermont my home. Gran’s here too. I realize my parents and brothers are in Ireland, but let’s face it, we aren’t close. Ireland stopped feeling like home for me a long time ago.”

“I like Vermont too,” Blaithin said.

Flynn looked at Torrin. “Maybe Hendrake could have a Vermont home base?”

Torrin nodded. “The only people I like in Ireland are you three, so if you’re here, sounds like a good place for me too.”

“Truly?” Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “You all want to live in Vermont?”

“Why not? Were you trying to get rid of us?” Blaithin teased.

“Absolutely not. You guys are my true family. I love all of you.” Emma was surprised at the sting in her throat. She hadn’t expected them to want to stay in Vermont. She was the luckiest lass in the world.

“We love you too,” Torrin said. “We’ll love you more if you share that wolf song. Let’s go.”

“Work, work, work. That’s all it is with you.” She shot him a grin and opened her notebook. “This is a draft, but here’s what I’ve got so far.”

She started by humming a melody she would eventually play on her fiddle, then she closed her eyes and sang the words she’d written and memorized last night.

The moon is full and I feel her power.

The time is now. It is the hour.

You’ve called to me and I hear your heart.

It beats with mine. It’s time to start.

Darkness closes in, but you light the way.

I’m lost no more if you’ll just stay.

A howl at the moon and I’m yours forever.

A howl at the moon and I’m yours forever.

Emma stopped and waved her hands at the guys, all of whom stood and clapped. “Oh, stop it, you fools.” She chuckled.

“No, seriously, Emma,” Flynn said. “Some good shit. I hear a low, steady, almost tribal drum beat with this one.”

Blaithin nodded. “Aye, with the tin whistle at the howl at the moon chorus part.”

“Absolutely,” Torrin agreed. “I’m thinking acoustic guitar, not electric.”

“Well, look at us. All tame,” Emma said, liking the new direction the band was taking after toning everything down for the gala.

“Tame, yet sexy,” Blaithin corrected. “We still want to be sexy.” He waggled his eyebrows.

They spent the next few hours toying with new material and updating their website and social media profiles as Vix had recommended. Every time a new song came on the radio, however, they stopped whatever they were doing and froze, ears cocked to listen.

Finally, finally, at a few minutes before three o’clock, Vix’s voice came over the air waves.

“Hey, hey, listeners. I’ve hinted enough about the new stuff I have for you today. You know how excited I get about finding bands I think you’ll love. Today is no exception. In fact, this band is my new favorite. I’ll be playing them all week and you’ll get to hear from them at some point soon on the show. Vermont, I give you Hendrake.”

The opening riff of Midnight’s Kiss sounded and Emma and the guys let out a collective holler. They then listened with rapt attention, as if it were the first time any of them had heard the song. They had waited so long to hear themselves on the radio. Emma could hardly believe it was really happening.

When the song ended, the four of them stood silently on the porch, soaking in the epic moment. Gran breezed outside and gave them all hugs.

“I can say I knew you when,” she said. “So fabulous.”

“When we cut our first official album,” Torrin said, taking Gran’s hands and leading her in a slow twirl around the porch, “we’ll be sure to thank you for letting us get creative at Deer Creek Inn.”

Gran swatted his shoulder. “You’d better, lad.”

Emma’s phone rang and she picked it up from the table. “It’s Vix.” She tapped the screen as everyone gathered around. “Hi!”

“Consider Hendrake launched, people!” Vix said. “Our station Facebook page blew up with comments. Go check it out. I’ve got requests for more songs. It’s going to be a busy week!”

With copious thanks from the band and an appointment to go to the radio station for a live interview, the call ended.

“We’re really doing this.” Emma hugged her arms around herself, immediately wishing Kole’s arms embraced her instead.

Again her phone rang and she heated all over when Kole’s name came up.

“Excuse me,” she said to the guys and Gran.

“Must be her boyfriend,” Flynn taunted.

Narrowing her eyes at Flynn, but laughing, she went down the porch steps and wandered into the woods.

“Hey, Beast.”

“Hey, Beauty.” Kole’s voice alone had the ability to stir up her desire. “Heard Hendrake on the radio. Very cool. You sounded amazing. The world is going to love you. Not as much as I do, but close.”

Just when she didn’t think it was possible to fall more in love with Kole McMannus, she did.

“This isn’t a dream, is it?”

“Only a dream come true,” Kole said with a chuckle.

“Finally. How’s day one on the job?”

“Good. I’ve hauled more lumber than I ever thought possible. Another hour and I’ll be home.”

Home. That got Emma thinking. “Okay. See you in a bit. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Emma hung up, feeling all warm and fuzzy for too many reasons to count. She made her way back to the porch, but her phone rang again. Checking the screen, she saw Brandy’s name.

“Hey—”

“Oh my GOD!” Brandy squealed. “You were on the radio! I know someone who was on the radio! And you sounded fantastic. I think Midnight’s Kiss is my favorite song. Are you guys psyched? You’re going to be famous!”

Emma laughed at Brandy’s excitement. “Aye, let’s hope this is the start of something.”

“I’m sure it is. Something B-I-G!”

They chatted for a few more minutes then Emma received calls from Nika, Reardon, Jaemus, and Meredith also. She was so happy to have met such wonderful people who were supportive. That werewolf pack thing—though Nika and Meredith weren’t ones—was stronger than any bond she’d ever felt. These people understood her in a way her actual family, aside from Gran, never would.

On her way back to the porch, her phone rang again. “Boy, this famous thing is already getting out of hand.” Glancing down to the screen, she didn’t recognize the number or the New York location that accompanied it.

“Hello.”

“Hi, is this Emma Rhodes of the band Hendrake?” a pleasant male voice asked.

“Aye, it is.”

“Oh, an Irish accent. Lovely.” The man chuckled. “I’m Brien Garrison, senior agent at New Note Media. We represent a number of bands and would like to discuss representing Hendrake. One of our scouts heard you on the radio this afternoon and...”

Emma didn’t hear much after that. It’s finally happening. We’ve done it. She crumpled to the grassy ground and stretched out on her back, letting the sun shine down on her face. With her eyes closed, she could actually feel Earth spinning beneath her.

Congratulations, she-wolf. Flidae’s voice caressed Emma’s mind.

Thank you.

I’m happy to call you one of my wolves.

Gaining favor with the goddess of wild things seemed like a good thing. Today was filled with good things.

“Emma! Are you okay?”

She opened her eyes to see Torrin standing over her. Blaithin and Flynn were on either side of him.

“Ms. Rhodes? Are you still there?” Brien asked.

Emma popped up to sitting. “Aye, I’m still here. When would you like to meet?”

She set up an appointment to go to New York, thanking Brien profusely then hanging up. Dropping the phone in her lap and putting her hands behind her head, she stared up at the guys.

“Well, lads, we’ve got ourselves a meeting in New York with New Note Media. They want to represent Hendrake.”

All three guys jumped up and down, cheering and high-fiving and hooting. Torrin reached down and grabbed her, yanking her to her feet and hugging the stuffing out of her. Blaithin and Flynn took a turn then they did a group hug and bounced around in a circle together.

“We did it,” Flynn said.

Blaithin gave him another high-five. “And we can keep doing it.”

“For a long, long time,” Torrin added.

Emma gave him another hug. “Just like we’ve always dreamed since high school band.”

Now it was time to turn some other dreams into realities.

Chapter Twenty

Kole was tired from his first day on the construction site. One look at Emma waiting for him at the cozy little table she’d set up under the gazebo by the pond behind the inn, however, had everything in his body awakening. He’d come back to the inn to find Emma and the guys ecstatic about a media company in New York being interested in representing them. After congratulating them all, he’d scooped up Emma, toted her off to his room, and congratulated her in a much different way.

A very naked way.

Their celebration had continued into the shower, then Emma had said she had a surprise for him and to meet her outside in an hour. With an hour to kill, Kole had used the phone number Dylan had found for Jessica Fairheart. The call went right to voicemail so he left a message saying who he was, that Shawn didn’t know he was calling, and that he’d like to thank her for what she’d done for his brother. He’d left his phone number too, hoping she’d call back and help him get Shawn’s life back on track, especially if Jessica was supposed to be a part of that life. He couldn’t stand knowing his brother was fighting again tonight. If he could show Shawn how much better things could be, he was going to do just that.

He’d fulfilled one vow in finding Shawn. Another vow in loving his soul mate. He desperately wanted to make things with Emma official. One more vow to go, getting Kylie.

Kole continued walking toward Emma, her smile growing as he neared, filling him with desire though they’d just made love. Would there ever be a time when he didn’t want to drop whatever he was doing and bury himself deep inside her?

I hope not, Emma said.

“Me too.” He stepped into the gazebo and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. The press of her body made him hard.

“Now, now,” she said. “There’ll be plenty of time for more of that later.”

“Not too much later I hope.” He caught her lips in a kiss that heated up quickly.

She broke away on a breathy moan. “Not too much later.” She took his hand. “C’mon. I want to show you something.”

“Does it involve you getting naked?”

“Kole.” She chuckled. “One-track mind tonight, aye?”

“Around you? Always.”

She tugged him onto a dirt road he hadn’t noticed during his stay at the inn. They walked hand-in-hand through the dusky woods until a small, quaint cottage came into view. It had a white exterior, a hunter green door, big windows, and a front porch. Empty flower pots hung from the porch and flanked the stone walkway up to the front steps, but Kole could imagine flowers bursting with color through the spring and summer months.

“Well, who knew this was here?” He let Emma lead him up the steps.

“I did. It’s part of Gran’s property. She sometimes rents it out, but it’s been empty for about a year.” She pushed open the front door and stepped inside.

Kole followed her, taking note of the pine paneled walls and exposed beam work. “It’s finely made.”

“It’s ours. If we want it.”

He stared at her, open-mouthed. “What?”

“I was going to ask Gran about it, but she came to me after we received that call from New York and said, ‘New York’s just a hop, skip, and a jump from here, Emma. You could call this cottage home. I’d love to have you close by, and I do believe I’m not the only one.’ So I checked it out and sort of fell in love with it.” She turned in a circle. “If you don’t like it though—”

His lips were on hers before she could finish. Plunging his fingers into her hair, he deepened the kiss, wanting their first memory of this place to be filled with all the love he felt for his soul mate.

“I love it.”

Emma’s smile beamed. “Aye? You want to live here with me?”

“Definitely. It feels like home already.” He kissed her again, loving how she leaned into him.

“I guess there’s only one thing left to do then.” She stepped back and took his hands in hers.

“Marry me?” they asked at the same time.

Emma’s hands pushed against his chest. “Hey, I was asking you to marry me.”

Kole pulled her into a hug, burying his nose in her hair and breathing her in. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with that scent. “On the count of three, we give each other our answers. Is that fair?”

She nodded.

“One, two, three...” Kole counted. “Yes.”

“Yes.” Emma’s voice sounded right when his did.

“I don’t have a ring or anything right now, Beauty, but I wolf vow to love you forever.”

“That’s the only vow I need. I promise the same, Beast.” She pressed a kiss to his lips, her tongue seeking entrance and stroking his when he opened for her.

They spent a few moments making out like a couple of teenagers before pulling away. Reluctantly.

“Did it work out this happily in the Beauty and the Beast story?” Kole tucked some of Emma’s hair behind her ear and leaned in for some quick nibbles.

“They ended up together too,” Emma said. “But something tells me we’ll be even happier.

Epilogue

Three weeks later...

Emma tapped her foot until Kole rested his hand on her knee. Mrs. Rubisson’s office at Canville Children’s Home was small. Too small for Emma’s wolf who wanted nothing more than to bust through that pane of glass in the office’s only window and gulp in some fresh air.

“Relax, Emma.” Kole squeezed her kneecap.

“I am relaxed. This is me, relaxed.” What if this doesn’t work out?

It’s going to work out. You’ll see. Kole’s voice was so reassuring that Emma’s shoulders settled a bit and she sifted out a slow, even breath.

A moment later, her heartbeat sped up again as Mrs. Rubisson came into the office carrying a file folder and a pen.

Was that a good file folder and pen or was that a bad file folder and pen? Emma wished someone would tell her right freaking now.

Mrs. Rubisson took her sweet time sitting behind her desk and opening the file folder, flipping through some pages and marking some spots with an X. She consulted a laptop, tapped a few keys, and mumbled a couple things. When she was through, she clasped her hands atop the papers and peered at Emma then Kole.

“I spoke to Kylie and she absolutely, positively does not want...”

Emma and Kole both leaned in toward the woman.

“...you to leave here without her.” Mrs. Rubisson smiled broadly and tapped the papers in the folder. “Everything is in order here, I’m happy to say, so let’s make this happen.” She turned the folder around and slid it toward them. “If you’ll sign where I’ve indicated, the adoption will be official. Kylie has been busy this morning packing up the rest of her stuff. She’s totally ready to go home and be a part of your family.”

Emma swiped at the tears leaking out of her eyes. This week had been absolutely amazing. She and the guys had met with Brien at New Note Media in New York where Hendrake signed their first record deal. Emma had negotiated recording in Vermont, where her home and anyone she considered family was. She’d agreed to tour dates that could mostly work around Kylie and Kole being able to come along too. Being away from them for long stretches of time wouldn’t do.

Blaithin had moved in with Vix and the two of them were going strong. Emma loved seeing him so happy. Torrin and Flynn found a cabin across from Nika’s trading post and were doing the roommate thing for now. The cabin had a huge barn behind it that Blaithin was pretty sure they could transform into one hell of a recording studio with the money New Note Media had advanced them. They also had a plan to start a music program for children like Kylie and the others at the children’s home.

Emma had announced at dinner one night that she and Kole were getting married and Gran absolutely exploded with happiness.

“You’ll get married here at Deer Creek Inn, outside, by the water, this autumn.”

Emma had looked at Kole, whose smile reached from ear to ear.

“You know what, Gran?” He’d gotten up and given the woman a hug. “I think that’s a perfect idea.”

Since then Gran had been telling everyone she knew and every single guest that came to the inn all about how her granddaughter had found true love at Deer Creek Inn. She also kept inviting people to the wedding. Emma predicted that by the time autumn came, her wedding would be the biggest event Canville had ever hosted.

Kole had presented her with a lovely, heart-shaped diamond and emerald ring over a romantic dinner. The diamond heart, he’d said, was for how much he loved her, and the emeralds were for their roots in Ireland. She couldn’t look at the ring without a goofy smile spreading across her face.

And now... now she was about to be officially named Kylie’s guardian with the man she loved.

Your third something worthy, wolves, came Flidae’s voice. Wolf soldier, you made three vows—one to your brother, one to your soul mate, and one to the pup—and you’ve kept them all. Live well.

Kole paused in his signing of the papers and shot Emma a quick look. We plan to. Smiling, he passed the folder to Emma who signed in all the right places.

“All set?” Mrs. Rubisson took the folder back and did a quick skim of them. “Okay then.” She got up from her desk and walked to the door. “I’ll go get Kylie.”

When she opened the door, the girl was standing right on the other side with a single suitcase by her feet and a stuffed wolf under her arm that Kole had bought her last week.

Mrs. Rubisson stumbled back a step. “Oh, honey. You’re right here.”

“I’ve been waiting.” Kylie peered around Mrs. Rubisson to see Kole and Emma.

“Your wait is over.” Mrs. Rubisson moved to the side.

As soon as Kylie saw them, she dropped the wolf and bolted toward them.

Emma and Kole were on their feet in seconds, catching the girl in their arms and going in deep for their first official family hug.

“Now this feels right.” Kole kissed the top of Kylie’s head then leaned over the girl to kiss Emma too. “We’re going to have such fun together. All of us.”

Kylie looked up at Kole, her brown eyes glowing a bit before fading back to their normal color. “This is going to be great.”

“Get your stuff,” Emma said. “We’ve got a bedroom for you that’s not going to decorate itself.”

Kylie clapped. She gave Mrs. Rubisson a quick hug and a thank you before picking up her wolf and heading for the door.

Emma and Kole shook Mrs. Rubisson’s hand and after Kole grabbed Kylie’s suitcase and another box of stuff she’d had by the door, the three of them loaded everything and themselves into Emma’s car.

“Can you play your CD on the drive, Em—” Kylie stopped abruptly, making Kole and Emma turn around to look at her in the backseat.

“What’s the matter?” Emma asked. “Did you forget something inside?”

“No. Umm... should I call you... Mom and Dad?”

“Would you like to?” Kole’s hand slid over Emma’s on the center console.

Kylie grinned. “Yeah. I would.”

Kole turned back around. “See that, Emma? We’re somebody’s Mom and Dad.”

“And not just any somebody’s either.” Emma smiled back at Kylie as Kole started the car. “Somebody very special.”

Before Kole could pull away from the children’s home, his phone rang. He dug it out and swiped the screen. When his eyebrows rose, he turned the phone toward Emma so she could see who was calling.

Jessica Fairheart.

He put the phone in the console between them.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Emma knew he’d been waiting for her to call back.

Kole shook his head. “Not now.” He peeked at Kylie in the backseat. “Right now, we’re going home.”

Read on for the next book, WOLF ANGEL!

WOLF ANGEL

Book Four

Warrior Wolves Series

––––––––

by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter One

Living in Maine for the past four years, Jessica Fairheart was still amazed at how many trees populated New England. Arizona, where she was born and raised—where she married a jackass and nearly ruined her life—was so different with the rust-colored peaks of the Big Horn, Gila, and Superstition Mountains and the prickly heights of the saguaro cacti of the Sonoran Desert.

Not that she missed Arizona. She didn’t. Not at all. Getting out of there had been the best move she’d ever made. Did she look over her shoulder every now and again? Sure. Was she living the life she wanted? Mostly. Had she moved on?

Have I?

That was a tricky one. Her business, Fairheart Designs, was booming. Her hands could hardly keep up with all the online orders for bowls, vases, and pitchers among other practical pieces of pottery people requested. The more whimsical side of the business was taking off too with more and more orders for conversation-piece sculptures. This week alone she’d made two mermaid statues, a dragon, and three unicorns. She loved her work. Turning lumps of clay into something beautiful made her feel as if she were channeling all her Navajo ancestors and pouring their spirits into each piece. Pottery connected her to her true essence.

Even if she had problems connecting to actual people around her.

That’s to be expected. She had to remind herself of that. Her experiences had turned her into the person she was—or what was left of that person anyway.

Sighing, Jessica shook her head as she sped along the winding, tree-lined highway in her SUV. “What am I doing?” Driving from Maine to Vermont to see a man who quite possibly didn’t want to see her was a stupid idea.

But she couldn’t stop herself from going. And how much did that piss her off?

From the moment she’d inexplicably felt Shawn McMannus get hit by that train she’d been traveling on, she couldn’t get the man out of her head. She’d tried. Oh, hell, she’d tried, but he’d gotten stuck there. Even worse, he’d gotten stuck in her damn heart—a place she’d closed down for business after her last involvement with a man. Men weren’t to be trusted. She’d learned that lesson for the first time when she was just a girl of sixteen.

Here she was though, traveling at speeds well above the posted limit to get to where Shawn was said to be. His brother, Kole, had contacted her and invited her to come to some town named Canville in Vermont. He’d said he and Shawn had recently reconnected and although Shawn wasn’t giving out much information, Kole had a feeling she was “important” to his brother.

Important?

Had Shawn used that word to describe her? Or was Kole trying to fill in the blanks? No one knew better than Jessica how closed off Shawn could be. In the time he’d stayed with her as he recovered from losing his leg in the train accident, he hadn’t said much.

He hadn’t needed to. The way he’d looked at her, the way he’d touched her, the way he’d made love to her...

Jessica shivered a little thinking about Shawn’s big, strong hands on her body. For a man of such few words, how had he managed to make her feel so... important? Yeah, that was the right word.

Or at least she’d thought it was. Until she’d awakened one morning, called out Shawn’s name after not finding him beside her in bed, and realized he was gone.

She’d never felt so empty, so lost, so angry at herself for falling in love with another man who wasn’t capable of respecting her. She deserved more than this, didn’t she? She wasn’t getting caught up in crazy romantic notions that couldn’t survive in the real world, was she?

No. Real love existed and she wanted it despite her awful luck with men. Despite her experiences as a teenager and as a young wife. Despite Shawn leaving without an explanation or a goodbye.

And why the hell did she want that real love to be with Shawn?

Jessica slapped her hands on the steering wheel and let out a frustrated grumble. Reaching over, she turned up the radio and sang along with Taylor Swift in her angriest voice, which made her laugh despite her scattered emotions at the moment. Why hadn’t she brought any death metal with her? Probably because she didn’t listen to death metal music.

But Shawn did.

Her lips tugged up at the corners. She remembered catching him singing in the shower to something with a ton of spit and vinegar in the lyrics. He hadn’t known all the words, but hearing him sing had been so damn hot. His voice was slightly gritty and totally sexy. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from stripping down and joining him in the shower.

He’d been startled by her sudden appearance and she’d had to grab him around the waist to stop him from falling over. Standing on one leg in the shower had to have been a challenge, but he’d quickly regained his balance with a hand on the safety bar she’d had installed in there.

Because accepting help wasn’t one of Shawn’s superpowers.

Jessica had figured that out pretty damn fast. You’d think a man who’d lost his leg when a train had literally plowed into him and ripped it off would take all the help that was offered. But not Shawn. He had a fighter’s spirit—one that said back off at every turn. One that had somehow allowed him to survive such a horrible accident.

She still couldn’t shake off the feeling that had coursed through her as he’d been hit while she’d been on that very train heading from Maine to New York.

She also hadn’t unraveled the mystery of how she had known they’d hit him. How could someone who had been sitting, earbuds deep in her ears and her mind singularly focused on the next vase design, have sensed that the train had smacked into a man she didn’t even know?

The whole thing creeped her out, but she was unusual. No way around that fact.

She’d taken responsibility for Shawn McMannus. When she’d finally convinced the railroad personnel to stop the train and at least look at the tracks, everyone had been absolutely horrified at the bleeding, unconscious man lying broken across the rails. She’d been the one to call 911. She’d been the one to ride in the ambulance with Shawn. She’d been the one to go through his wallet and give the hospital the information it needed to treat him. She’d been the one who was there when he’d awakened.

She’d been the one to get mesmerized by his gray-blue eyes.

Shawn had been disoriented when the effects of the anesthesia had worn off after the surgery to tidy up what remained of his left leg. The doctor had said the trauma of the accident and a concussion were to blame, but it had appeared to be more than that to Jessica. When he’d been released from the hospital and she’d taken him to her home, he’d been super uneasy sitting in her SUV. Once she’d gotten him inside her house, things like the microwave and the television had dumbfounded him. He’d looked around as if it were the first time he’d ever seen anything. She’d chalked it up to his ordeal as the doctor had suggested, but something about his reactions didn’t add up in her head.

And traveling to Vermont to see him now didn’t add up either. Seriously.

“Take ramp right,” the lovely male British voice of her GPS commanded.

“You got it, Nigel.” This may have been a stupid idea, but she was nearly to the address Kole had given her. More stupid to turn back at this point. “I may as well see where this all leads.” At the very least, she had to make sure Shawn was all right. Then maybe she could move on.

Hoping her open mindedness would see her through encountering Shawn again, she navigated the rest of the way and after twenty minutes of driving, she arrived at a cozy bed and breakfast. The sign out front said Deer Creek Inn.

This was the place all right. Kole had told her to continue past the main inn and follow the narrow dirt road into the woods. Sure enough, a charming white cottage revealed itself just as Kole had said it would.

She’d had a few conversations with Kole over the past two weeks and already liked him. Much more personable than Shawn was, Kole had made her feel as if he truly wanted her to come to Vermont.

At least one brother wants to see me.

She couldn’t say the same of Shawn, but she’d find out for sure in mere moments. Her palms were slick against the steering wheel and she loosened her grip. A fluttery feeling spread out in her chest and down to her stomach.

“Get it together, Jessica.” She shook her shoulders and stretched her neck back and forward, side to side. How could one man cause this physical reaction in her? And was she nervous or excited? Dammit. She couldn’t tell.

The only way to find out was to get her butt out of the SUV and walk up to the front door of that cute little cottage.

“You can do this.”

Grabbing her purse, she got out of the SUV and smoothed her hands over her long black hair that she’d straightened. In a rare talkative moment, Shawn had said he liked the feel of her hair between his fingers. She’d like to say she hadn’t styled her hair with him in mind this morning, but that would be a total lie. Pathetic how much she wanted him to take one look at her, scoop her up into his muscled arms, and ravage her mouth.

She missed his kiss.

Dammit.

Squaring her shoulders, she walked toward the cottage but stopped when the bright red front door suddenly ripped open and a man came barreling out—a man with a shaved head, black stubble, and crystal blue eyes. A man built very much like Shawn.

He skidded to a halt after vaulting down the three front steps. “Jessica?”

“Yes. Are you Kole?” Her fingers closed around the straps of her purse, choking the life out of them.

“Aye. I am.”

She shivered over hearing the same Irish accent that Shawn had. The one that had ratcheted up the sex appeal to dangerous levels.

A woman with black hair like Jessica’s only wavier appeared on the small front porch behind Kole. “Oh, you’re here.” She hopped down the stairs and stepped around Kole. “Hi, I’m Emma. It’s so nice to meet you, Jessica.” She extended her hand.

After quickly swiping her palm along her denim-covered thigh, Jessica shook Emma’s hand. “Hello. Nice to meet you too.” She couldn’t stop her gaze from going back to the cottage’s still open front door.

Emma chuckled. “Shawn’s not here.” She may as well have said, We don’t have any oxygen here.

Jessica’s shoulders slumped.

“I wish he were.” Kole’s lips pursed, his jaw clenched.

“Where is he?” No sense in trying to hide her desperation. That cat was out of the bag and running wild.

“Jail.” Emma folded her arms across her chest.

Jail? Shawn had always seemed as if a bit of danger simmered under his skin, but what could he have done to land in jail?

“He’s been fighting,” Kole said, “as a... career.” He shook his head. “I tried to talk him out of it.”

“We all did,” Emma added. She slipped her arms around Kole’s waist. “But you McMannus men have thick skulls.”

Kole’s lips turned up on the left side—a smile Jessica had seen on Shawn as well. One that made her want to see the man all the more. She wanted to slap some sense into herself but knew it wouldn’t help.

“It’s a good thing we have thick skulls, Beauty. We wouldn’t have made it this far without them.” A look passed between them that said there was much more to that statement than Jessica knew.

“Who’s he fighting?” she asked. “I don’t understand.” She could definitely picture Shawn beating the crap out of someone though. All those muscles would love being used in that way. She should probably be disgusted that Shawn was fighting—so caveman—but she was aroused instead. The mental movie playing in her head right now was downright erotic.

“He’s fighting other men who have also decided this was their only occupation choice.” Kole ran a hand over his shaved head and puffed out a breath. “There was a police raid at the steelyard where they fight though. I’ve got to go bail him out so I can kick his ass.” He made a move to walk around Jessica, but Emma pulled him back.

“I’ve got an idea,” Emma said, a sly smile on her lips. “Why don’t we let Jessica get him?”

“Me?” Jessica’s voice was a squeak.

Kole slowly grinned then nodded. “Aye. You.” He turned to Emma and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You are brilliant, Beauty.”

“Don’t you forget it.” Emma kissed him back then looked at Jessica, who was still reeling from the suggestion of her going to get Shawn. She’d been semi-prepared to see him at this cottage, but even that had made her nervous as hell.

Although, if the first time she saw him again was when he was contained in a jail cell, he couldn’t suddenly disappear on her, could he?

“Tell me how to get to the police station.”

****

Great gods. This was not how Shawn McMannus had planned to spend his afternoon. And why had he agreed to a daytime fight at the K.O. Club? He only fought at night. Exclusively. Usually he slept for a good portion of the day and stayed up into the wee hours bloodying up and knocking out other men—Ultimate Fighting Champion style—for a paycheck. A paycheck he needed to repay a debt. Not a stellar life by any means, but he was doing what he could considering the circumstances. Being turned into a werewolf by his cousin and being banished from Ireland by Flidae, the goddess of wild things, didn’t leave him many career options.

Having one leg didn’t improve his options either.

Poor wolf fighter, Flidae whispered in his skull.

Get out, he growled back.

I’m the only friend you have right now. The goddess’s voice was filled with humor.

Shawn didn’t appreciate the joke. You’re no friend at all. A friend would have done whatever she could to give him his left leg back, but all Flidae did was taunt and tease him. As if he were the one who had turned part of an army into werewolves then used those werewolves to slay the enemies of the Spanish king in exchange for riches. That had been his cousin, Reardon McAlator, also banished to this time in the future along with Reardon’s brother, Jaemus, Shawn’s brother, Kole, and Erik Rheagan who was still missing.

They’d all been charged by Flidae with doing something worthy to get back to Ireland of their time, but so far, Reardon, Jaemus, and Kole had decided to stay here. All three men had met their soul mates. Love had changed their lives and they’d turned away from their previous mercenary lifestyles.

But not Shawn.

He was a fighter. He’d continue to be a fighter. After seeing his brethren with their soul mates and attending Jaemus and Nika’s wedding last weekend, he knew he’d already met his as well. Unfortunately, he’d left her behind in Maine without telling her what he was or what she meant to him. It was better that way. She didn’t need the complications he would bring to her life.

Jessica Fairheart deserved more than whatever an incomplete man like himself could give her. She deserved more than a man who wasn’t a true man anymore.

Grumbling under his breath, Shawn rubbed his prosthetic left knee, knowing he could never soothe the phantom ache that lingered there even though his knee and leg were gone. The human body was an odd thing. One minute, he’d been a strong, invincible force on the battlefield. He’d had opponents actually see him and run away. Then Reardon had changed him into a monster, also capable of making other men flee, but the goddess hadn’t liked that.

The day Flidae had dropped Shawn on those train tracks he’d become less. Much less.

And now I’m in jail.

The police had poured into the steelyard building where the K.O. Club fights took place, and before Shawn’s mind could register what was happening, handcuffs had been secured around his wrists. He’d been tugged outside with the other fighters and the folks who ran the operation. After processing at Appleton Police Department and a short ride back to Canville, he’d found himself in a jail cell where he now waited for his brother to bail him out.

Despite his current situation, things had been getting a little better recently. Kole had found him and he’d reconciled with Reardon. Partly. Another part of him hadn’t completely let go of the grudge yet. Being turned into a werewolf against one’s will wasn’t something a person could just get over. That shit took time. Maybe he’d never be over it.

He’d moved from a crap apartment in Appleton next to the steelyard to a small cabin in Canville, Vermont. Being near Kole and his cousins felt... right. Wolves needed a pack. Shawn was now part wolf so he needed a pack too. He still liked his space, however, so he’d refused his cousins’ and brother’s offers to live with them. He didn’t think he could survive watching them with their soul mates any more than he had to. While he was happy for all of them, being a witness to the bonds they shared caused waves of loneliness to nearly drown him.

And he was tired of swimming. With only one leg. Sometimes three.

Fighting helped release some of his pent up energy. Kole had been after him to quit fighting, but Shawn wasn’t ready to do that yet. Fighting was his. Something he did and did well. The pay was incredible too.

What wasn’t incredible was sitting in jail.

Maybe Kole was right. Maybe it was time to find something else to do. Maybe it was time right now to shift into wolf form and scare someone into letting him out. Unfortunately that scene would probably not result in his release but in him getting shot instead.

Don’t need that right now.

He’d disappointed his brother with this arrest. Kole would come and bail him out though. This incident would be forgotten and Shawn could get back to fighting. At night. Only at night. From now on.

Where the fuck is Kole? What was taking his brother so long? The cell walls were starting to close in on him. Shawn had gotten used to wide open spaces, especially in wolf form. Having only three legs put a cramp in running as a wolf, but he still enjoyed blowing off steam that way. Worrying about keeping track of his prosthetic leg while in wolf form was the real trouble, but he couldn’t afford to keep buying new ones.

Besides, Jessica had bought this leg. He wouldn’t lose it before he’d finished paying her back for it. He wouldn’t lose the one tie he had to her.

He could have had more ties. He knew that, but he wouldn’t hold her back. A person as kind and selfless as Jessica had a world of goodness coming to her. She’d saved his life by stopping that train and demanding the tracks be checked. If she hadn’t done that, he surely would have perished in a pool of his own blood. If she hadn’t called 91l, if she hadn’t gone to the hospital with him, if she hadn’t opened her home to him afterwards...

If Jessica Fairheart didn’t exist, neither would he.

Shawn drummed his fingers on his right knee where he could actually feel the contact and thought about his time with Jessica after the surgery. He’d been a little out of it.

Okay, okay. He’d been a lot out of it. The accident coupled with banishment to a future he didn’t quite understand had left him seriously disoriented. Fortunately, when he asked stupid questions like what the refrigerator was, Jessica had thought he was tripping on pain medication. Medication he didn’t actually take because he didn’t need it. One advantage to being a werewolf was the physical pain had gone away pretty quickly.

Getting his leg ripped off by a train had hurt like no injury from the battlefield ever had, but the wound had closed easily and quickly. The doctors had been amazed and Shawn feared they’d want to do tests on him to figure him out. He learned quickly to at least play along in the pain department to make his healing look as if it were taking longer even if his flesh suggested otherwise. Too bad limb regeneration wasn’t one of the perks to being a werewolf. Too bad he’d been the werewolf to figure out that detail.

Staying with Jessica had been a definite perk though. She’d taken care of him as if he meant something to her. And her smell? Great gods. It had the potential to drive him mad. When she’d touched him, being turned into a wolf, being banished, losing his leg... none of it mattered. She was so gentle and loving and generous. She was a ray of sunshine in a dark time for Shawn. She’d bought him his prosthetic leg though he’d protested left and right. How could he let her spend that much money on him? They were strangers after all.

Although they didn’t make love like strangers.

The money he would send her would never truly make up for what she’d done for him. When he’d left the cozy fantasy world that was her home—and her body—he told himself letting her live her life was the best thing he could do for her.

He’d been right. He had.

Footsteps echoed somewhere down the hall between the cells and Shawn stood.

About damn time, Kole. He gripped the bars in front of him, preparing to unleash some acid at his brother.

Only it wasn’t Kole who appeared.

Instead, Shawn stared at an angel. One with long, black hair, beautiful dark brown eyes, and lips he remembered all too well.

“Angel?” His throat was so tight. The nickname he’d given her came out as a whisper. Gods. She wasn’t really standing there. Was she?

“Shawn.” She licked her lips and fumbled with the straps on her purse.

He almost shifted involuntarily such was the pull to her. Somehow he managed to get control of his animal urges. “What are you doing here?”

“Coming to your rescue.” She gave him a wry smile. “Again.”

“I don’t deserve your efforts.” He wanted to look away, to ignore what seeing her did to him, but he couldn’t. The depths of her eyes held him captive.

You know what she is, don’t you, wolf fighter? Flidae asked.

Of course. After seeing his cousins and Kole with their soul mates, Shawn didn’t need to be a genius to know Jessica was his.

Then why fight it? Flidae’s voice sounded truly curious.

I’m no good for her. I’m a beast. One who is broken in both human and wolf form.

He braced for some biting comment from the goddess, but she left his mind instead. He took that to mean Flidae agreed with his assessment of the situation.

“You probably don’t deserve my efforts,” Jessica said, taking a step closer to the bars and bringing more of her wonderful scent into his space, “but here I am anyway.”

“How did you find me?” He’d been pretty careful about not leaving a trail when he’d left her back in Maine. Leaving the warmth of her bed that morning had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done and that included beheading enemies on the battlefield.

“More like your brother found me.”

He leaned his forehead against the bars and stared at his boots as he sifted out a slow breath. Of course his brother would interfere.

“Don’t be mad at Kole,” Jessica said. “He cares about you. There are people who do that, you know. Care about you. A lot.”

Her delicate fingers closed around Shawn’s on the cell bars. Ripping his hand free of hers was what he should have done. Touching her was a bad idea. Breathing her in was an even worse plan, but gods help him, he couldn’t resist.

Raising his head, he met her gaze. She was close enough for him to kiss between the bars. All he had to do was tip his chin... just a bit...

“Are you springing this guy or what?” An officer strode over, crushing the intimacy of the moment.

Jessica let her hand slide off Shawn’s as she took several steps away, but her gaze was still locked on him. “I guess that depends on him.” She pointed at Shawn. “Do you want to be sprung?”

The officer snorted. “No one wants to stay behind bars.” He stepped around Jessica and punched in a code on the keypad by the cell door. With a hiss, the locks disengaged and the officer slid the door open. “We’ll square you away at the front desk. Follow me.”

Shawn hesitated inside the cell as he stared at Jessica. Staying inside the cell would keep him from touching her. His decision to leave her would hold. She’d no doubt hop back into her SUV and head back to Maine without another look back.

If he took that one step outside the cell, however, there’d be conversations that would need to happen. There’d be things he wanted. There’d be a million reasons to keep her.

“Choice is yours, Shawn.” She shrugged as if she didn’t care what he chose. That was a lie though. He could tell by the way her gaze kept flitting to his mouth. She was remembering what they’d shared just as he was.

Damn it all. How was he supposed to remain firm in his decision to forget her? Not that he’d been able to anyway. As he’d traveled farther and farther away from her, his desire hadn’t abated. In fact, seeing her now made it abundantly clear he only wanted her more.

He stepped out of the cell, noting the tiny uplift of Jessica’s right eyebrow. “Don’t get cocky, Angel.”

She gave him a heart-stopping grin before feigning innocence. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Bullshit.” He nudged her in the direction the officer had headed and within fifteen minutes they were standing on the sidewalk in front of the police station. Fortunately, because it was Shawn’s first offense, he was getting off with a warning.

“Do you have somewhere you need to be right now?” Jessica squinted up at him in the late afternoon sun. The July day was warm and he loved how the turquoise tank top she wore exposed her long, toned arms—arms that knew how to take away all that ailed a man... and a werewolf.

Only she didn’t know what he was, but maybe she could handle the truth. Maybe she was like Brandy, Nika, and Emma. Maybe she was the only woman who could ever love the real Shawn McMannus.

“The only place I have to be right now is right here.”

He lowered his head and slid his hand up her left arm to rest it on the back of her neck. Her skin was warm and smooth and magnetic. Exactly how he remembered it.

Jessica let out a little sigh right before Shawn brushed his lips against hers. Gently at first. Turning needy instantly. Setting his entire body ablaze.

Gods, I’ve missed her.

Everything about this kiss felt right. Destined.

Soul mated.

Chapter Two

Jessica had wanted to play it much cooler than this, but the moment Shawn dipped his head to kiss her, her cool was nowhere to be found.

Hot.

That was what took its place. And getting hotter the longer his mouth teased hers. She couldn’t stop her lips from parting, from accepting his tongue, from tangling, from wanting. More. So much more.

Shawn pulled her in closer and she melted against his firm, muscled body. When she’d seen him in the jail cell, looking all moody and badass with his chin-length, light brown hair just grazing the stubble on his jaw and his gray-blue eyes on her, she knew she was in trouble. Serious trouble. How could anyone resist a man who filled out a black T-shirt and gray cargo pants like he did?

A low growl sounded in his throat as she caressed his tongue with hers and she was reminded of that day on the train. She’d been traveling because she had a meeting with a New York company to talk about selling her pottery in their stores. It was a big deal and she’d been super excited.

Her rehearsed sales pitch had been running through her head as she’d skimmed a story about a movie star and his fling of the week in the tabloid she’d brought along for the ride. As she was about to turn the page, this feeling of extreme nausea had crashed over her. She’d made a run for the bathroom at the back of the train car, but stumbled in the aisle instead. An older woman had helped her to her feet, asking her if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she’d said. “Just clumsy.”

She’d pushed forward to the bathroom, but a vision of a broken body across the train tracks had flashed with such clarity before her eyes that she’d fallen to her knees. Shaking her head, she’d hoped to purge the gruesome image from her mind, but it’d stuck there.

Jessica had never had visions before, but this had been so vivid. And shooting pains had coursed down her left leg.

Wondering if she were having an attack of some sort, she’d called out for help. Her voice had sounded hysterical even to her own ears, but the words weren’t ones she’d consciously decided to say.

“We have to check the tracks! There’s someone out there! He needs our help!”

The panic had been real. She’d felt completely out of control. Only one thing had been for sure—the tracks had to be checked.

Finally, after acting like a psycho for a long enough period, train personnel stopped the train and looked outside. She’d known they were appeasing her so she’d shut the hell up, but she hadn’t cared. Moments later, an announcement had filled the train car.

Please gather your personal belongings. We are switching trains. Buses will pick you up and take you to the next stop to continue your journey. Thank you for your patience.

A long minute of total silence had stretched on as every single passenger in that car turned to look at Jessica. They’d snapped out of it when train personnel arrived and bustled around to assist everyone.

Jessica had retrieved her bag and mechanically moved to the exit, but she didn’t join the line of passengers heading for the buses. She didn’t get on one of the buses so she could get on the new train and make it to her appointment in New York. Instead, she’d slipped to where the ambulance lights flickered red in the growing darkness.

“There she is!” one of the train personnel had said as he’d pointed in her direction.

An EMT had jogged over to her. “Miss, do you know the victim?”

She hadn’t, but why had she felt as if she did? “Yes.” And one little lie was all it had taken for her to never get to New York and have her pottery sold in an actual city store.

The EMT had nudged her into a walk. “This way.”

She’d been escorted to the ambulance and helped up into it. A man lay on the gurney inside. Bloody towels were wrapped around his left thigh and though he looked to be unconscious, his brows were creased, creating a pained expression.

“Is...” She’d had to clear her throat. “Is he going to be okay?”

The EMT who had climbed in behind her gave her compassionate eyes as she no doubt assumed this man meant something to Jessica. “He’s lost his left leg and a lot of blood. We’re going to do everything we can to save him.” She’d reached over and had given Jessica’s shoulder a quick squeeze before attending to the man.

Another EMT had hooked up monitors to the man and more towels had been amassed at the wound. Jessica let her gaze travel back up to the man’s face. A few bloody scratches had marred his forehead and left cheek and his longish brown hair was a wild mess. He’d looked downright feral, and as that thought had passed through her brain, his eyes had snapped open.

A growl—a literal growl—had rumbled out of him. Both EMTs had taken a step back from what they’d been doing, but the noise had made Jessica want to get closer.

So she had.

The man’s nearly glowing gray-blue eyes had bored into her and she’d felt this immediate connection to him. Even after he’d passed out again, a strange, unexplainable thread had joined them together.

“Does he growl like that often?” one of the EMTs had asked as he fiddled with buttons on the monitors.

“Only when he’s pissed off,” Jessica had managed to answer.

They’d ridden the rest of the way to the hospital with nothing more than the beep of monitors and the jostling of emergency supplies in compartments lining the walls of the ambulance. Inside the hospital, the female EMT had pushed a wallet into Jessica’s hands before disappearing behind a set of double doors with the gurney.

Standing in the middle of the hallway, Jessica had opened the wallet and found the man’s Maine driver’s license. His photo had looked like that of a male model and she could barely tear her gaze away from his perfectly rugged face to see his name.

Shawn McMannus.

Something warm had zipped through her at learning his name. She’d been about to walk through the doors where the gurney had disappeared, knowing full well she probably wasn’t allowed back there. A nurse at the desk had called her over, asking for information, so she’d brought the wallet over there instead and rifled through it, finding a medical insurance card and turning over the driver’s license.

“And what’s your name?” the nurse had asked.

“Jessica Fairheart.”

“And how do you know the patient?” The nurse’s fingers had hovered over the home row of her keyboard, expectant eyes on Jessica.

“Girlfriend.” She’d thrown a glance up to the overhead lighting, seeking forgiveness for lying.

The nurse hadn’t seemed suspicious though. Her fingertips just tapped away. “Anyone else we should notify about Mr. McMannus’s accident?”

Shit. Did the man have a family? Was someone waiting for him to come home?

“I’ll take care of it,” Jessica had said.

The nurse had nodded and indicated she could have a seat in a nearby waiting room. With limbs like lead, Jessica had sunk into one of the uncomfortable chairs to wait for news on a man she’d never met.

She’d gone through the rest of the wallet, not finding much in the way of information or money. The address on his driver’s license had been only a few streets over from where she lived and she’d wondered if maybe she had met him before. He hadn’t looked familiar though, and a man who looked like him would be hard to forget.

A doctor came out to the waiting room what had seemed like hours and hours later. Jessica hadn’t noticed him until a hand on her shoulder jerked her out of a catnap. She’d blinked, trying hard to understand why she was in a hospital waiting room, and then she’d remembered.

“Is he okay?” she’d asked, getting to the edge of her seat.

“For a man who had his leg ripped off by a train,” the doctor had said, “he’s doing remarkably well.”

Jessica had cringed because the doctor’s words brought the horrible vision back into sharp focus in her mind.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor had said, rubbing his forehead. “I usually have a much better bedside manner. I’m just... amazed at how Mr. McMannus’s body is handling the physical trauma it has endured. I’ve never seen anything like it. A wound like that should not have stopped bleeding so quickly or have been so easy to close. So strange.”

Strange hadn’t begun to explain the day.

“Can I see him?” she’d asked, though a piece of her brain told her to get a move on. To get on another train and continue to New York. To see if she could salvage her meeting with the store. That piece of her brain lost, however, as she’d searched the doctor’s face, hoping he’d let her see Shawn.

“Yeah, come on back. He’s still out cold, but between his remarkable healing and our surgery, the wound site is neat and tidy. Once he is awake and alert, we’ll fill you both in on what the next steps are.”

“Next steps?” She’d stood to follow the doctor, but paused.

“Well, judging from his muscle tone, Mr. McMannus strikes me as a pretty active guy. I’d imagine he’d want to explore having a prosthesis so he can remain as mobile as possible.”

Right. Because the man only had one leg now. Jessica’s stomach had done a sick flop as she’d put herself in his shoes... shoe. She couldn’t fathom waking up to find a limb missing.

“And he’ll need physical therapy to learn to walk on the prosthesis. Might also require psychological therapy. I’m sure an accident like this is going to leave some mental scars.”

For all of us.

“Of course,” she’d said.

“How are you doing?” The doctor had turned to face her in the hallway.

“Me?” Because her “boyfriend” had sustained a nearly fatal accident. “Oh, umm... still in shock, I guess.”

The doctor had given her a compassionate smile. “At least you have each other to lean on.”

Her eyes had filled as if on cue and the doctor had mistakenly assumed her tears were for the situation. She’d known the truth, however. She’d known she didn’t have anyone to lean on but herself.

She’d followed the doctor to a room down a dark hallway, wondering the whole way what in the hell she was doing. What would happen if the man awoke and told everyone he had no idea who she was? What if he was married and his wife showed up? What if...

All her paranoid questions had died off when the doctor opened the door and led her inside the room. The blankets covering the man looked odd because where there should have been a bump for a left leg... there wasn’t.

“Stay as long as you want,” the doctor had said. “We don’t have any rules about visiting hours at this hospital.”

“Thank you.” She’d watched the doctor leave before approaching the bed. And the man.

She hadn’t been able to stop herself from brushing his wayward hair from his face and neatening the blankets.

What am I doing?

She’d turned to leave, but the man had growled again and his head had flopped from side to side, his hair falling over his face again. He’d looked... unsettled.

Nearing the bed, she’d reached out and taken his hand in hers. She could have sworn he’d squeezed back. When she’d moved his hair a second time, he’d let out a sigh that caressed her somehow.

Jessica had spent three days in a chair beside Shawn McMannus’s bed, holding his hand, making sure the blankets covered him, studying every square inch of his perfectly chiseled face, fantasizing about pressing her lips to his, which pouted slightly in his sleep. She’d gotten to know the doctor and several of the nurses who monitored his status. They’d always been pleased with his progress, but Jessica grew restless waiting for him to open his eyes. She couldn’t explain why. Once he woke up, she’d have to leave. This stupid little girlfriend scenario she’d been playing out would end and she’d never see him again.

Only the scenario hadn’t ended.

On day four, Shawn had opened his eyes, blinked sleepily at her, then smiled in a way that caught Jessica on fire.

“Are you an angel?” His voice had been raspy, an Irish accent making it even sexier.

She’d laughed as she leaned forward in her chair. “An angel? Definitely not.”

“I’m not dead?”

“Nope. Close though.” She’d stood and taken a step closer. “How do you feel?”

He’d lifted his head off the pillow and looked down the length of his body while Jessica held her breath. “I feel as if something’s missing.” He’d shifted up to his elbows and his face had gone absolutely green.

“You’re alive,” she’d said, putting her hand to his cheek and turning his head to look at her instead of the flattened blanket where his left leg should have been. “That is what’s important, Shawn.”

His cheek had been warm against her palm. The tear that had rolled from the corner of his eye to land on her wrist had killed her. She’d simultaneously felt as if she should leave and climb into the bed with him.

The latter option had won.

She’d slid her arms around him and held on while he cried quietly, his head buried against her chest. He’d wrapped his arms around her, his hold tight, desperate. The entire thing had been way too intimate for a couple of strangers, but Jessica couldn’t have left if that hospital was suddenly on fire.

Shawn had fallen asleep with his head resting on her and she’d stayed as still as possible so he’d be comfortable. Parts of her own body had gone numb, but that was a small sacrifice to make to console him. He hadn’t struck her as a man who cried often. His despair must have run deep for him to shed tears in front of her, and she’d wished she could have waved a magic wand to give him his leg back.

And that was when she’d made the decision to buy him a prosthetic leg. Whatever it cost, she was going to make sure he felt strong and virile again. She was going to make sure this was the last of his tears.

****

To be kissing Jessica Fairheart again was a dream come true. Every night when Shawn climbed into bed after winning rounds of fighting, he put the money he’d collected in a tin box to send to Jessica. He couldn’t help but think of her and what she’d done for him. He was able to stand on two legs, get around, beat the shit out of other men because of her. Though nothing could actually replace having a real left leg, the prosthesis she’d bought him came damn close.

The support she’d offered as he learned to walk on the prosthetic leg had been amazing. She’d taken him to therapy, waited as he went through the exercises, consulted with his doctors.

And what had he done? He’d used that leg to walk out on her.

“Oh, Jessica...” He took a step back and cupped her face in his hands.

“Didn’t miss me at all, did you?” She pressed a kiss to his thumb.

He pulled her into a tight hug, loving how her slim form felt in his hold. “I missed you more than I thought it was physically possible for one human to miss another human.” Though he wasn’t entirely human anymore.

Jessica craned her head back, her brown eyes widening, and a pang of regret plucked at Shawn’s heart. She shouldn’t have been surprised by what he’d said. If he had done his job right, she’d have known exactly how he’d felt about her. But he’d been a coward instead. He’d left without giving them a chance.

“I missed you too.” Her voice was quiet, unsteady, as if she were having an internal war with herself. She probably didn’t trust him, and that was all his fault.

He leaned his head down and kissed her softly. “I can’t do what I want to you out on the sidewalk.”

She looked around as if just remembering they were still outside in front of the police station. “My SUV is this way.” She thrust her hand in her purse and came out with her keys jingling.

Shawn grabbed her keys. “Let’s go.”

Her smell drove him wild in the confines of the vehicle and when he pulled up to his cabin fifteen minutes later, he was nearly insane with need. Just one more taste of her. That was all he’d take. Indulge his animal side and forget he was no good for her. For a few hours only. Then he’d give her the money he’d collected so far, promise more until his debt was squared, and send her back to Maine.

It had to be that way.

He let them into the cabin, noting how she gripped the straps of her purse as she looked around his small, sparsely decorated place. She knew he was going to hurt her again.

But it wasn’t stopping her from allowing this one more time to happen.

After turning in a circle and taking in the open living room, kitchen, and dining room area, Jessica set her purse down on the big wooden chest he used as a coffee table-slash-footrest.

“I would have guessed you live in a place like this.”

“What does that mean?” Was she insulting him?

She gestured to the empty wood-paneled walls, the basic hunter green couch, the worn leather chair, the modest-sized television. “You don’t give away any of your secrets and neither does your living space. I still have no idea what you like, what you don’t like.”

“I like you. That’s all you need to know right now.”

Before she could say another word, he picked her up in one swoop and carried her down the short hall to his bedroom. She didn’t protest. In fact, when he set her on her feet, she went right for the hem of his T-shirt and peeled it off him with a not-so-gentle tug. When her fingers coasted over his chest, he couldn’t stop the shiver that rippled through him. Her hands went to his pants and she unbuttoned, unzipped, slid her hand inside, and coiled her fingers around his dick.

“Gods...” He couldn’t breathe for a minute.

Jessica stroked him and he nearly fell to his knees. Damn, he wanted to devour her.

He toed off his boots as she pulled his cargo pants down and off him completely. He hated that she had to look at his prosthetic leg—at what he was missing—but as usual, she didn’t appear to be put off by it. He shimmied out of his boxers then set to work, kissing trails along Jessica’s exposed arms and shoulders. He took both of her arms and raised them above her head before pulling off her tank top. He unhooked her bra and freed those lovely breasts into his palms.

The noise that emanated from Jessica’s throat stoked the fire burning inside him—a fire that blazed only for her. When she let her jeans and panties drop to her ankles and stepped out of them, he wasn’t sure where he wanted to touch her first.

Settling on kissing her lips, he closed the small distance between them and descended on her luscious mouth. Her flavor was so familiar to him, so necessary to his survival. Being without her since he’d left had chipped away at his soul and only holding her now was filling in the cracks again.

He remembered when he’d awakened in that hospital and Jessica had been the first face he’d seen. He’d been certain he’d died and she was an angel, sent to take him away. But that couldn’t have been right because he’d done too many things unworthy of passage to a land of eternal bliss. He was definitely headed in the other direction for the killing he’d done in Reardon’s army, for the wealth he’d acquired shedding blood, for the wild wolf that now lived inside him.

But still... Jessica Fairheart was an angel.

How else could he explain her taking in a complete stranger and caring for him the way she had? And she never flinched when he asked her stupid questions about some of the modern conveniences he’d never seen before. Of course, she’d thought the concussion from the accident had something to do with that. Saved him the trouble of explaining the whole werewolf-banished-from-ancient-Ireland-by-an-angry-Celtic-goddess story—the story he couldn’t tell her.

Ever.

Flidae must have agreed. Why else would the goddess have made that wallet—complete with a driver’s license and medical insurance card—show up in his pocket? She hadn’t wanted him spouting the details of his real situation, but what did she want?

For you to do something worthy, wolf fighter. Flidae’s voice whispered inside his head.

He didn’t know about doing something worthy, but he did know he was about to do Jessica Fairheart. One. Last. Time.

Picking Jessica up, he walked toward the bed and eased her down onto the middle of it. The blankets were still a tangle from this morning and he didn’t waste any time fixing them. Not with what he had planned.

He kissed a path from her knee along her thigh, finding it hard not to howl in appreciation for her beautiful, beautiful body. Everything about Jessica drew him in. Her scent. Her smooth skin. Her toned muscles. Her long legs. Her lovely breasts.

Her wet, waiting core.

A heat came off her that enveloped him, making it impossible for him to tolerate even an inch of space between them. Kneading her breasts, he savored the noises she made, the kisses she gave, the slide of her leg against his. All his senses were filled with Jessica Fairheart.

One more time with her wasn’t going to be enough.

“Hey.” She reached up a hand and pushed his hair out of the way. “Just enjoy it, Shawn. Let’s not worry about what comes after. Not yet anyway.”

How was she so inside his head?

Soul mate, Flidae said.

She deserves more, he replied.

Maybe she deserves the right to make her own choice.

As the goddess left his thoughts, Shawn wondered if Flidae might be right. Could he just let Jessica decide what happened next? Could they actually be together like Reardon and Brandy, Jaemus and Nika, and Kole and Emma? It had all worked out for the other couples.

Why not us?

Because Reardon, Jaemus, and Kole weren’t broken men, that was why. They also had forsaken their fighting natures whereas Shawn still battled. No longer on the field but in the ring. He was still a hired mercenary.

Could he change? Did he want to?

Jessica pulled on his shoulders until his chest was flush with hers. “Make love to me, Shawn.”

He was more than ready to give the woman exactly what she wanted. Hovering over her, he stared into her beautiful brown eyes and saw what he’d seen there the entire time he’d stayed with her in Maine—acceptance, understanding, love. She shouldn’t give him any of those things. Surely there had to be someone out there who was worthy of her attention. He was not that someone.

When she reached up and pulled him down on top of her again, he didn’t care if he wasn’t that someone. The only thing he cared about was making her yell his name in ecstasy. He wanted her so thoroughly satisfied she couldn’t ever leave his bed.

No. He couldn’t want that. He had to be fair to her. He had to set her free after this.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he pressed his lips to her neck, her uniquely intoxicating scent filling his nose. She didn’t smell like anyone else. Reardon, Jaemus, and Kole had said the same about their soul mates. Shawn had convinced himself that Jessica hadn’t smelled like anything special, but he saw what bullshit that was now. Her fragrance made his body awaken in ways it didn’t when she wasn’t around.

She let out a little sigh as he scraped his stubbly chin along her shoulder and down the curve of her side. He teased her breasts with his tongue, swirling around her nipples until both were taut with desire. Licking a line between her breasts down to her belly button, he laughed against her skin when she wiggled beneath him.

“So ticklish...” He blew on her stomach, watching goosebumps bloom on her flesh.

“Be nice.” She swatted his shoulder.

“I’m about to be very nice to you.”

He let his mouth course down to her thighs where he kissed the insides before attending to the spot he most wanted. Gods, he’d missed her flavor, the warm press of her thighs against his cheeks, the way her breathing hitched when he thrust his tongue into her heat.

“Oh, Shawn...” She arched her hips and he took the opportunity to taste her more fully. She came apart with a shout of his name and he felt as if he’d won a prize for his efforts.

But another prize was on the way.

Jessica tugged him up and completely ravaged his mouth as she wrapped her slender legs around his waist. She made him absolutely dizzy with wanting. Was it the wolf inside him that caused him to feel like panting or was it simply this amazing woman beneath him? How did she manage to undo him so easily? A week ago, he’d been solid about his decision to leave her.

Right now? The mere thought of not being with her forever made panic flare in his chest.

“Hey.” Jessica paused in her kissing and pulled back a bit to look him in the eyes. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Why?”

She shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. I felt... this ripple of... something pass through you. Like you were anxious or something.” She flatted her palm against his chest. “And your heart is pounding.”

He gave her what he hoped was a confident smile. “You excite me, Angel. My heart’s just trying to keep up.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to do this if—”

Shawn caught her mouth with his before she could finish that sentence. They were doing this. He couldn’t turn back. Not now that he’d made the choice to allow this lovemaking session to happen. If it was their last, he planned to make it count.

Without another word, he slid into her, relishing the feel of her heat surrounding him, loving how her hips arched up to grind against his own, needing to go deeper. She whispered his name over and over as they found their rhythm. He’d never experienced such synchronicity with another lass. Back in Ireland of his time, he’d had his fair share of lovers. There’d been no shortage of woman willing to take him to their beds. He’d used his warrior status, his record of victories, to sample a wide range of beauties, but what he had with Jessica right now—a lass who knew nothing of his former life—was pure magic.

He’d never believed in magic, but this was definitely it. There was no other word for it.

With a few more slow thrusts, he took Jessica over the edge. Or did she take him? He couldn’t tell and who cared anyway? His body was happier than it’d been since he’d left her.

His heart would have been happy too if his brain didn’t start in on him the moment he’d slid out of her.

Now what? it asked.

Shut up, he told his brain as he collapsed beside Jessica and tucked her in at his side. He buried his nose in her thick hair and dropped light kisses on her shoulder and neck.

She wiggled slightly, lining up more of her against more of him. Everything about that was wonderful, but how long could he let this go on? For a warrior, he was one weak bastard. One look at Jessica at the police station and all his resolve to stay away from her sifted right out of him to pile on the cement cell floor and scatter to the winds.

“Sex is supposed to relax you, Shawn.” Jessica gave him a sideways glance over her shoulder.

“I’m relaxed.”

“If by relaxed you mean tense as hell.” She chuckled. “I’m getting loud and clear that you didn’t want this to happen, but it did. Enjoy it and snuggle with me.”

Fuck. Why did she have to be so adorable? And so in tune with him?

Letting out a grumble, he nipped her shoulder then kissed the spot. Relax? How could he? Having her sweet bottom pressed against him was making him hard all over again.

When her shoulders shook with laughter, he pinched her side. “I’m glad you find my condition so amusing.”

She turned in his hold to face him, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Nothing funny about this.” She slid her leg up between his, letting her knee gently roll over his erection. “This is serious business.”

When she licked her lips and skated her hand along his hip only to end up surrounding him in her grip, he moaned in submission, giving himself over to her once again.

“You were right,” he managed as she pushed him to his back and straddled him, taking him in inch by inch.

“Generally speaking, but about what in particular?” Her head dropped back as he pushed in deeper and she shuddered atop him.

“About you not being an angel.”

Her laughter filled him with something he didn’t think he’d ever felt.

Hope.

Chapter Three

As Jessica rode Shawn to an explosive orgasm, she tried to take her own advice. To enjoy the moment and not worry about what happened next. She almost succeeded too because who could deny that making love to Shawn McMannus was all consuming? She certainly hadn’t had the willpower to resist him. It’d always been that way. He’d wormed his way into her very being the moment that train had hit him. She began feeling him then and hadn’t stopped being in tune. Even when he’d left and she wasn’t sure where he’d gone, she was still connected to him. He was out there. Somewhere.

That had been the only thing that had comforted her. After waking up without him, her first instinct had been to think something awful had happened to him, but then she’d reached down that invisible thread that connected them. She’d known immediately he was all right.

What she didn’t know was why he’d left.

She could imagine any number of reasons for his departure and all of them told her he didn’t feel the same way about her as she felt about him.

Why does he make love as if he does feel the same way though?

Jessica looked down at Shawn. His gray-blue eyes were focused on her face, an almost glowing intensity in his gaze. His big hands were clamped on her hips as they both moved toward release. He was the picture of a man completely committed to pleasuring her, but was that all? Was there more? Could there be?

He apparently didn’t think so, but the fact that they were doing what they were doing right now proved him wrong. This was much more than sex. They weren’t scratching an itch, squeezing in a quick bang, or merely tumbling in the hay. This was about true union, a joining of souls.

This should be forever.

Shawn arched up and hit just the right spot to make Jessica unravel. He followed right behind her and when she draped her body over his, he wrapped his arms around her. Tightly. As if he didn’t intend to let go.

If only...

She knew that even as they lay tangled, his fingers now sifting through her hair, he was thinking about how he could leave again.

How do I know this?

Since Jessica was sixteen, she’d known she wasn’t... ordinary. She didn’t talk about that time in her life. Not ever. But she could do things most people could not. Whether that had something to do with being able to read Shawn so well, she couldn’t be sure, but there were obviously gaps in her intuition when it came to him. Otherwise she wouldn’t have been so surprised when he’d left. She would have seen it coming. She could have prepared her heart for the beating it had been about to take.

Instead, she’d been so wrapped up in the way Shawn had made her feel that she’d let her mind wander to happily ever afters.

But I don’t get to have those.

She’d also learned that lesson when she was sixteen and then again when she’d married Brandon Knight at age twenty-six. She was undoubtedly missing the internal radar that told a woman to stay away from certain men. She kept making the same mistake.

Shawn seemed different though.

Yes, he’d ultimately broken her heart, but she had this sense he hadn’t wanted to or his leaving had been his way of showing her that he loved her. It sounded stupid, but she could almost understand his thought process. His accident had mangled his view of himself as much as it had mangled his leg. She wasn’t sure what he’d done with his life before she’d met him—because he never talked about his past—but it had to have been something extremely physical. A man didn’t get muscles where Shawn had them sitting at some stuffy desk job all day. His limited mobility before he’d gotten the prosthesis had dented his pride, soured his mood, and turned him into a grizzly bear of a man. Though he’d never lashed out at her, some days nothing she said or did lifted his spirits.

She’d been patient though. She’d been supportive. She’d assured him that his life wasn’t over. He’d listened to her too, and when she’d offered to fund his prosthetic leg, he’d initially refused.

“I can’t let you do that, Angel,” he’d said, shaking his shaggy head.

“I can’t let you sit around here moping either,” she’d countered.

“I’m not moping.” He’d folded his arms across his broad chest looking like the definition of moping.

“You are, sweetie.” She’d crawled onto his lap, his arms naturally unfolding to hold her around the waist. “And I understand why you would be moping. This,” she’d massaged what remained of his left leg, “sucks. No one deserves what happened to you. It happened though. And there are steps we can take to get back your mobility. I want to help you take those steps.”

He’d stared at her for a long time with those serious gray-blue eyes then cupped her face in his hands. “Why are you so good to me?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

An expression of... regret had passed over his handsome features, and she’d desperately wanted him to tell his story. His whole story. Where had he come from? Who was his family? What had he done before she’d sensed him on the train tracks?

How had he gotten on the train tracks to begin with?

That was a question no one had been able to answer. The doctor had said the trauma of the accident had blocked out the time right before Shawn had been hit by the train. No amount of therapy had been able to sketch in those details, and perhaps it was for the best. Ending up lying across train tracks most likely did not start out as a happy tale.

“You shouldn’t be this good to me, Angel.” He’d set her beside him on the couch, grabbed the nearby crutches, and shuffled off to the front door. “I need some air.”

“Okay. When you come back though, we’re talking about getting you a prosthetic leg.”

He’d nodded and disappeared outside to the front porch of her house. When he’d returned, he’d been carrying a bouquet of wildflowers he’d collected from the woods.

Holding them out to her, he’d said, “I’ll pay you back.”

She’d taken the flowers and inhaled their fresh Maine summer scent. “Pay me back?”

He’d lifted the right crutch and motioned to the dead space below his left thigh. “For the leg. I don’t have the money now, but I’ll pay back every cent.”

She’d waved him off, but he’d grabbed her hand. “Listen to me, Angel. The only way I can accept your ridiculous generosity is to know you’ll let me square it with you. I’m already in your debt. You saved my damn life. I can’t let another good deed go unpaid.”

Again, she’d opened her mouth to protest—to tell him she’d gotten so much out of helping him too—but he’d silenced her with a kiss steamy enough to make her knees weak.

And now I’m lying next to him again.

But for how long? His body felt amazing pressed up against hers. She’d never felt so safe as when she was with Shawn. Feeling safe wasn’t something she’d experienced enough. That was what happened when a wife fled her abusive husband in the middle of the night, hoping to start a new life without him.

She’d done that, but not without wondering every day if Brandon would suddenly show up, that familiar look of unexplainable rage in his dark eyes, ready to haul her ass back to Arizona.

Technically, she was still Mrs. Brandon Knight. According to law only. Not according to her heart. Her heart belonged to Shawn McMannus.

She cuddled up next to him and they must have fallen asleep because when she opened her eyes again, the clock beside Shawn’s bed read 12:16 p.m. Sunlight streamed into his bedroom, turning everything all warm and golden. She rolled over to face him, nearly melting when he smiled as he hooked her hair behind her ear and traced her jaw with his rough fingertip. Waking up like this every day was what she wanted.

“Look, we have something here, don’t we?” she asked. “Last night was more than physical, Shawn. You can’t deny it. There’s a connection between us. It’s been there from the start. We belong together.”

He winced then closed his eyes as he rolled to his back.

“What? What’s wrong with us being together? I want to know.” She pushed up to rest on her elbows and look at him.

“I have secrets, Jessica.” He opened his eyes and turned his head to face her, that look of regret there again.

“So do I.” She corralled her hair onto her shoulder as she sat up more fully and got her legs underneath her.

“Not like mine.”

“Try me.” She reached for his hand, but a ringing cell phone cut into the silence of Shawn’s cabin.

He let out a grumble and reached over the side of the bed to grab his cargo pants.

Jessica enjoyed the incredible view of Shawn’s toned torso stretching. Muscles upon muscles bunched and rippled. His arms were just as impressive and she had the sudden urge to sink her teeth into his biceps.

Shaking that thought from her mind, she listened as he answered the ringing phone.

“What.” The word wasn’t a question but more of a threat to the caller. Shawn ran his fingers along her thigh as he listened, his brows knitting together. “Well, I suppose it’s too late for me to say go away, isn’t it?” He pulled the phone from his ear and tapped the screen before dropping it onto the sheets next to him. “My brother is outside. With his woman and his kid.”

“Kole has a child?” She hadn’t seen one afoot when she’d stopped at their cottage yesterday.

Shawn nodded. “Aye, an adopted lass. She’s adorable.”

Well, that had Jessica thinking about how Shawn felt about kids in general. Did he want some? What kind of father would he be?

“They want to come in. They brought pizza.” He swung his legs over the side of the bed, adjusting the prosthesis as he did so and rising slowly, waiting a beat to make sure he was steady. That was a move she’d watched him learn in physical therapy—to balance before stepping. The way he traveled about his bedroom, collecting their clothes, told her he’d mastered a great deal of what he’d learned in physical therapy. His limp was barely noticeable.

“I suppose people bearing pizza should always be granted entrance.” She took her clothes and began dressing.

Would Shawn have told her his secrets if they hadn’t been interrupted? Would he have finally shared all of himself with her? Could she have shared all of herself with him? Would they ever get to that point?

“I’m going to let them in. Bathroom’s through there if you need to freshen up.” He pointed to an open doorway at the far side of the bedroom.

“Thanks.” She headed in that direction but paused when Shawn didn’t leave right away. “What?”

“I’m sorry.” He caught her hand and tugged her up against him. “I’m sorry for walking out on you.”

“Make me understand why you did, Shawn. Please.”

He brushed his lips against hers in the softest of kisses. “I don’t know if I can.” His eyes looked so sad she could barely contain her own tears. “Meet you out there.”

After shrugging back into his T-shirt, he left the bedroom. Jessica listened as he made his way to the front door, opened it, and mumbled a greeting to his brother. She scurried into the bathroom, finger-combed her hair, and straightened out her rumpled clothes. Three hours sitting in a car driving to Vermont from Maine yesterday and the entire night and half of today that her clothes had spent in a sloppy pile on the floor of Shawn’s bedroom hadn’t been kind to them. She applied some lip gloss she’d found in her pocket and wiped at the smudged eyeliner under her eyes. It was the best she could do.

Taking a deep breath, she walked out to the living room to find Kole, Emma, and the most beautiful blonde-headed girl she’d ever seen standing around the island in Shawn’s kitchen.

“Hi!” The girl bounded over to her. “I’m Kylie. We brought pizza. It’s a meat lovers because we love meat.”

Jessica laughed at the kid’s exuberance. “It’s nice to meet you, Kylie. I’m Jessica, and I love meat as well.”

Kylie angled her head at Jessica. “How much do you like meat?”

“Kylie.” Kole’s voice had a low warning wrapped inside it, but he smiled at Jessica with a kids are nuts look on his face. “I see you managed to bust this guy out of the big house.”

“What’s a big house?” Kylie asked.

“Do you want one or two pieces, Kylie?” Emma expertly diverted the child’s attention as she winked at Jessica and got Kylie situated with some food. “How about you?” She waved a hand over the pizza box. “I know Shawn doesn’t believe in keeping food in his refrigerator. We thought you might be hungry after your drive down from Maine yesterday.”

“Thanks. I am starving.” Not so much from driving as from the lovely round of lovemaking she’d just enjoyed.

“What’s Maine like?” Kylie asked with her mouth full of pizza.

“It’s a lot like Vermont. Lots of trees and fresh air.” Jessica sat on the stool beside Kylie while Emma plated a piece of pizza for her.

“We’d probably like it in Maine then,” Kylie said, ripping her napkin as she wiped sauce off her hands.

“Why?” Jessica asked. “Do you like trees and fresh air?”

“We need trees and fresh air.” Kylie bit off another piece of her pizza.

“It’s nice to see that someone your age feels that way,” Jessica said. “I see so many kids glued to their cell phones and tablets nowadays. I feel bad for Mother Nature sometimes.”

“Oh, we get plenty of outdoor time,” Emma said. “We’re not the indoor type.”

Kylie shook her head, golden curls bouncing around her pretty face.

Kole stepped over, grabbed a napkin, and wiped Kylie’s face. She protested, but he only rubbed more, making the girl giggle. “Eat more, wear less,” he said.

“She’s only been with us a little while,” Emma explained, “but Kylie’s somehow managed to pick up Kole’s eating style.”

Kole’s mouth dropped open.

“Yep. See that?” Emma pointed to his gaping mouth. “That’s the problem right there.”

“I do not eat with my mouth open, Beauty.”

“Yes, you do,” Emma and Kylie said at the same time.

Their interactions—those of a family—mesmerized Jessica. She wanted that for herself.

Would she ever have it?

****

Shawn watched Kole and Emma fuss over Kylie, wondering why he was so interested today. He’d spent enough time with them since Kole had found him and while he always felt connected to them as any wolf would feel with its pack, this moment right now was different somehow.

Only one reason. And she was sitting on the stool beside Kylie, taking delicate bites of the pizza slice Emma had served her.

Everything about Jessica drew him in. The way her jaw moved as she chewed. The way she smiled when sauce plopped onto Kylie’s plate making the child jump in her seat. The way she kept stealing glances back at him. Glances that said, Come closer. Get caught in my net. Be mine. Forever.

It’d be so easy to give in to that call. Making love to Jessica had felt like it always did—fucking amazing. Sleeping beside her again had been wonderful too. So wonderful they’d blown through all night and half of today in his bed. How could a man—or a werewolf—turn his back on something that powerful? If she were indeed his intended soul mate, then Nature herself wanted them together.

Who was he to turn such a gift away?

Maybe he could have her. Maybe he could enjoy the soul mate bond as his brother and cousins were. Maybe he didn’t have to be alone.

Maybe he was enough for Jessica Fairheart.

“Aren’t you going to eat any, Uncle Shawn?” Kylie spun around on the stool to face him.

“Oh, did you save me some?” He took two big steps toward her and stole a piece of pepperoni off the piece on her plate.

Kylie giggled. “Don’t steal mine! There’s plenty. Dad said we had to order a lot because you and your friend Jessica were going to need to refuel.”

Kole choked on the soda he’d been drinking while Emma laughed behind her napkin. Jessica’s cheeks pinked as she concentrated on her pizza.

“Sorry,” Emma said. “We haven’t gotten around to the not-everything-we-say-at-home-has-to-be-said-in-public lessons yet.”

Shawn grabbed two pieces of pizza, jammed them together like a sandwich, and raised one eyebrow at everyone. “My brother isn’t wrong.”

Jessica let out a gasp as Kole high-fived Shawn.

“I knew calling her was the right thing to do.” Kole puffed out his chest in victory.

“Dad’s always right.” Kylie beamed a smile up at Kole.

“Brainwashing is going according to plan, I see,” Shawn said.

Jessica laughed at that. She was apparently over the embarrassment of Kole and Emma knowing exactly what they’d been doing with their time together.

But maybe they could do what they’d been doing again. Later. When Shawn got rid of Kole, Emma, and Kylie. Was it wrong of him to wish for that?

“Do you like wolves, Jessica?” Kylie asked.

Jessica furrowed her dark brows. “Wolves? Yeah. I basically like all animals.”

“Well, what’s your favorite animal?” The girl finished her pizza slice and swung her legs back and forth under the stool.

With a quick look to Shawn, Jessica said, “I like ravens best.”

“Ravens are super smart,” Kylie said. “Dylan and I did a report on them for school.”

“Dylan?” Jessica grinned. “And who’s Dylan?”

“Dylan is Brandy’s son,” Kole said. “Well, technically he’s Brandy’s nephew, but Brandy has been raising him as her own because her twin sister passed away. And Reardon, our cousin,” Kole gestured between him and Shawn, “is Brandy’s husband as well as Dylan’s stepfather.”

“I see,” Jessica said.

“So Dylan isn’t my cousin even though Kole and Reardon are cousins, because Reardon’s not Dylan’s real dad and Kole isn’t my real dad,” Kylie explained, her cheeks reddening a bit the more she talked about Dylan.

“Right. Glad you cleared that all up for me.” Jessica shot a quick smile to Shawn and that was all it took to make him want to carry her off to his bed again. The wink she gave him next told him she wanted the same. “Anything else I should know about this family?”

Everyone grew still in the kitchen for a moment. Shawn almost couldn’t breathe. Why would she ask that question? She’d sensed him on the train tracks that day. What was she sensing right now?

“Did you meet Jaemus and Nika yet?” Kylie asked as a collected breath sifted out of Kole, Emma, and Shawn. Saved by the curiosity of a pre-teen. Thank the gods.

Jessica shook her head. “No. Who are they?”

“Jaemus is Reardon’s brother, so Dad’s and Uncle Shawn’s cousin. Nika is his wife who runs Maple Ridge Trading Post. Have you been there yet?”

“Nope. I only got to Vermont yesterday afternoon. I haven’t seen much aside from your house, the police station, and this cabin.” Jessica wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and Shawn wanted to lick any crumbs or sauce away for her.

Kylie swiveled around in her stool to face Kole. “Can we take Jessica to Nika’s trading post today? Every tourist should see it, and she’s a tourist.”

Right. Jessica doesn’t live here. She has a life in Maine. These thoughts made the pizza Shawn had eaten stir around in his stomach. She was the one who had told him to just enjoy the moments happening between them earlier. She wasn’t asking him for forever.

She didn’t intend to stay in Vermont.

Why was she here then? Had she come simply because Kole had called her? Did she just want to see that Shawn was all right and then be on her way?

Would she be the one to leave this time? That notion made his chest ache. Being with her again was making him think about the direction his life had taken so far. Since being banished, he hadn’t tried to do something worthy. He’d been too busy trying to walk again, and Jessica had... distracted him. What if he did his something worthy? Would he choose to go back to Ireland of his time? Would he choose to stay here like his brother and cousins? What would Jessica want? He had a hard time imagining her in the past. While she liked the outdoors, he couldn’t picture her living without the modern conveniences she was so accustomed to using.

“What do you say, Jessica?” Kole asked. “Do you want to hit the tourist attractions?” He checked his cell phone. “We probably have enough time to pop into Nika’s post and hit Brandy’s wolf sanctuary today if you’re interested.”

“A wolf sanctuary? Wow.” Jessica stood and gathered her plate, but Emma took it from her and threw it away. “Yeah, I’d love to see both.”

“Great.” Kole looked at Shawn. “You in?”

“Of course.” Did his brother think he’d let Jessica loose with a bunch of werewolves? Nika and Dylan weren’t ones, but the rest were—including little Kylie. While he didn’t think any of them would intentionally hurt Jessica, he wasn’t about to take any chances. If she was his soul mate, he’d watch over her.

For now anyway. Until he figured out what to do. About loving her.

Fifteen minutes later, they were all roaming the aisles of Nika’s post—her rebuilt post after a devastating fire had claimed the first one her father had built. The new Maple Ridge Trading Post had an artsy feel that was uniquely Nika. Shawn hadn’t spent a great deal of time with her, but from what he saw, she had a wonderful creative streak and made Jaemus stupidly happy. Shawn never would have believed a woman could ensnare Jaemus McAlator, but Nika Skarvinski-McAlator certainly had the former second-in-command warrior caught in her web.

The power of soul mates, Flidae whispered.

Shawn was beginning to understand that power. He glanced over a display of carved wooden boxes to watch Jessica as she listened to Kylie explain what a dreamcatcher did. That made him laugh. With her Navajo ancestry, Jessica could tell Kylie a thing or two about dreamcatchers. While he’d been recovering, she’d told him Navajo legends that took his mind off his troubles. Just listening to her voice had soothed him. Its melodic quality resonated inside him and the tension that had always existed in his body leached out, evaporating into thin air.

He’d missed hearing her voice.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Nika said behind him. “Since you’re blocking them.”

He turned to face her. “Just thinking about how crazy this soul mate thing is.”

A smile bloomed on Nika’s face. “Crazy and wonderful.” She fiddled with the engagement ring and new wedding band on her finger. “Every day I can’t wait until Jaemus leaves his construction gig and comes back to the post at 1:00 to do the Wolfman Show here. And then he goes back to construction and I wait for him to come home for the day. I need to be near him. And I’m still a human. I can’t imagine what it’s like when both people are,” she glanced around then whispered, “werewolves.”

Was it possible that what he felt for Jessica would intensify if she were a werewolf too? Shawn didn’t see how that could be. He already needed her to breathe fully. He’d felt that way the moment he’d awakened in the hospital and saw her angel face. Looking at her now, he couldn’t understand how he’d managed to walk away from her.

“She’s beautiful,” Nika said as she straightened some of the wooden boxes.

“Aye.”

Jessica looked up at that moment and gave him a smile as Kylie prattled on about how she’d lived in a children’s home, but then Kole and Emma came along and adopted her and now she had a family. And not a small one, but one with uncles and cousins and even if they weren’t blood related it still was awesome.

Shawn’s heart warmed in his chest and for the millionth time today, he wanted to haul Jessica back to his bedroom.

“She seems to be smitten with you as well.” Nika elbowed him in the ribs and he let out a puff of air.

“She shouldn’t be.”

Nika rested her hand on his forearm. “Why the hell not?”

“It’s a long list, Nika.”

“Haven’t your brother and cousins proven that the modern-day woman likes what you guys are?”

“I’m not the same as them. I’m still a fighter. I haven’t abandoned my warrior ways. And then there’s this.” He gestured to his left leg. “Or more specifically what isn’t there.”

Nika’s brows lowered. “Do you think any of that matters to Jessica? She took care of you, didn’t she?”

“She’s just got a big heart.”

“Yeah, one that’s large enough to love a big oaf like you.” She gave him a little shove then patted his arm as she walked over to Emma and Kole.

Shawn rubbed his temples. This was hurting his brain. He was thinking too much about too much. Maybe he’d be better off just seeing where Jessica wanted all this to go. As much as he hated talking, they probably needed to do some.

But he wouldn’t get that chance until later. Assuming she wanted to go back to his cabin with him and not stay somewhere else.

He marched over to her as Kylie ran off to get the cupcake Nika had offered the girl from the café section of the trading post.

“You’ll stay with me.”

Jessica put her hands on her hips and leveled her big brown eyes at him. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

Scratching his stubble, he regarded his boots. “My apologies. I’m asking. Will you stay with me? Please?” Because now that he’d held her for a night, he wanted to again.

A slow grin turned up the sides of Jessica’s mouth, and Shawn wanted to see her lips do that every day.

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll stay with you, but you have to promise me something.” She took a step closer.

Shawn looked down at her, every instinct in his body telling him to wrap his arms around her and pull her up against him. Something made him look up though. Sure enough, Kole, Emma, and Nika were watching them. All three of them averted their gazes, but not fast enough. They’d been caught. The old Shawn would have been pissed at them for being in his business. This Shawn, however—the one who had joined their pack and was getting used to them being in his business—didn’t mind so much. They cared about him. They wanted him to be happy.

Maybe he could actually be happy.

“What do I have to promise?” he asked, keeping his hands to himself so as not to give his nosy family the show they were hoping for.

Jessica placed her palm on the center of his chest, and just that simple contact had his heart thudding extra.

“You have to promise to touch me like you did yesterday,” she whispered. “I can’t be in your presence and not have that.”

He tugged on the end of her hair. “That’s an easy promise to make, Angel. I want to touch you like that right now.”

“But your family is watching our every move, aren’t they?” She let her hand slip from his chest, making him feel as if someone had unplugged the cord that kept him alive.

“Aye. How did you know?”

“I sense things. Remember?”

“Do you sense what’s ready and hot for you in my pants right now?”

“Absolutely.” She grinned then walked out of the aisle. When she reached Nika, she said, “I love your trading post. I’m definitely going to stop back in here before I leave and make some purchases.”

Nika clapped her hands. “Great. Kole told me you make pottery. Any interest in showcasing some in here? I know I’m not a big fancy store, but my customers love pottery.”

“I’d love to get some of my pieces in here. When can we talk about the details?”

Shawn loved how she lit up when it came to talking about her art. He’d spent hours upon hours watching her at the potter’s wheel when he was unable to move around on his own. She expertly turned lumps of clay into beautiful vases, cups, bowls, and too many other things to name. The magic she created with her hands was so incredibly sexy. When he watched her, he forgot about the fact that he was a blood-thirsty soldier, a monstrous werewolf, and a damned one-legged invalid.

He had to admit he also loved the notion of Jessica having a link to something local like Nika’s trading post. Would it make her consider staying? Did he want that? Was that being selfish?

“Do you have time to pop in tomorrow?” Nika asked. “Any time would be okay. I’m here all day.”

“Great. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Can we go to Silver Moon now?” Kylie asked now that she’d finished her cupcake. She held one in her hand and showed it to Jessica. “For Dylan. He likes the chocolate-peanut butter ones.”

“Well, I hope Dylan realizes what a great friend you are,” Jessica said.

Kole rested his shoulders on Kylie’s. “Trust me, he does.” He ushered Kylie out the door with Emma. “Maybe the boy realizes it a little too much lately.”

“How old is she?” Jessica asked.

“Eleven. She’ll be twelve in December,” Kole said.

Jessica nodded. “I remember being eleven-almost-twelve. It’s an exciting time, especially if your best friend is a boy.”

Kole put his fingers in his ears. “I don’t want to hear this.”

Shawn clamped a hand on Kole’s shoulder. “Like you won’t be able to scare away every boy that tries to get near Kylie.”

“This is true.” He pointed a finger at Shawn. “And I have access to backup.”

“Plenty of it.”

“Oh, boy,” Jessica said. “I pity the fools that try to take her to the prom.”

“If it is Dylan,” Nika said, “you all have nothing to worry about. That kid is as sweet as they come. Smart too.”

Kole snarled a little at Nika then waved goodbye to her as he led Shawn and Jessica out. Emma and Kylie were already in Emma’s car and Kole jogged over to join them.

“So a wolf sanctuary next, huh?” Jessica paused in front of her SUV. “Are all the wolves tame?”

Shawn arched an eyebrow at her, wondering what she’d say if he shifted right now.

“Most of them are.” He didn’t know how tame he was though. Especially with Jessica around.

Chapter Four

As soon as they parked the SUV beyond the gates of the sanctuary, a few wolves emerged from the trees and circled around the vehicles.

“Oh...” Jessica grabbed Shawn’s forearm on the console between them. “They’re beautiful.” She sat up straighter to look out the windshield. “How many does Brandy have?”

Shawn shrugged. “A bunch. I never counted. There’s always some milling about whenever I come here.”

“Is it safe to get out of the car?”

He laughed, the sound deep and husky and plucking at places inside Jessica that craved his touch. “I’ll protect you if it isn’t.”

The thought of him throwing his body over hers to protect her got her instantly hot. How long before she’d be back at his cabin with him? While she wanted to see these wolves, she also wanted to see Shawn in all his naked, muscular glory. She had silently rejoiced when he’d invited her to stay with him while she was here. It had been more of a demand, but that was sexy too.

“Come on, Angel,” he said as he opened the SUV’s door. “Let’s get this field trip over with. I have plans for you.”

Did he? What kind of plans? Wild sex plans? She was definitely on board with plans like that. Her heart would probably end up broken again, but she kept reminding herself to go with the flow, enjoy whatever Shawn was willing to give her right now.

Until she came up with a plan to keep him.

She hopped out of the SUV and as soon as her feet hit the ground, a large brown wolf loped over to her. “Hey.” Jessica held her hand out to the creature and let it sniff her fingers and palm. When a warm tongue sloshed across her skin, she chuckled in delight. “You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you?”

Tentatively, she ran her hand over the wolf’s back, smoothing its fur. It was like petting an oversized dog. When the wolf plopped its butt down on the ground, its tongue lolling out, she laughed again.

Shawn came around the SUV to stand beside her. He gave the wolf a vigorous scratching between its giant ears. “This is Lug. He’s the official welcomer at Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary, aren’t you, lad?”

Emma’s car pulled up beside Jessica’s SUV, and Kylie was out of the back seat as soon as the engine turned off. The girl held Dylan’s cupcake out of reach as she ran toward a lovely cabin on the property.

“This is not for you, Nymph!” she said to a petite brown wolf that trotted over to her. “This is Dylan’s. No chocolate for you.”

The wolf galloped after her until the cabin’s front door opened and a boy appeared. He cracked up when he saw Kylie and grabbed the cupcake. Kylie disappeared inside as Emma and Kole came to stand with Jessica and Shawn.

“Kylie is a cutie,” Jessica said.

“Yeah,” Emma agreed. “We kind of love her.”

“From what she told me back at the trading post, she kind of loves you guys too.” The flare of jealousy that whipped through Jessica surprised her. Brandon had made it abundantly clear he hadn’t wanted kids and she’d gone along with that. When he became abusive, she was glad there weren’t any children to worry about—especially when it came time to leave him. Her escape would have been ten times more difficult if she had little ones to take with her. Thinking of that night when she’d left Arizona made a shiver of fear ripple through her. Things could have gone horribly, horribly wrong.

“Are you all right?” Shawn’s voice pulled her out of the terrible memory—a memory she hadn’t shared with anyone.

She managed a smile for him. “Yeah. Better than all right.” She’d come a long way from where she was a few years ago. Her life in Maine was wonderful. Lonely, but so much better than what she’d been enduring in Arizona with Brandon. If she could get Shawn to stay around, the lonely problem would be solved. How she wished she knew what was going on in that gorgeous head of his.

“Hey, Brandy,” Kole called.

Jessica looked up to see a redheaded woman walking over to them. Was everyone in this Vermont town beautiful? She already thought Shawn was, but Kole, Emma, Kylie, Nika, and Brandy were stunning as well. In fact, she was starting to feel a bit out of place with her simple straight hair and barely any makeup.

“Hi, all.” Brandy extended a hand to Jessica. “You must be Jessica. Brandy McAlator.”

“Doctor Brandy McAlator,” an older woman strolling over said.

“Not necessary, Mother,” Brandy said in a sing-songy voice.

“Maybe not, but fun to say just the same.” She too extended a hand to Jessica. “Meredith Wendon, Brandy’s mother.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Jessica said. “And I’m assuming that was Dylan who snatched that cupcake from Kylie?”

“That would be my cupcake-loving son.” Brandy beamed a smile.

“Not only cupcakes,” Meredith said. “That boy will eat anything remotely involving sugar.” She poked Brandy in the arm. “Just. Like. You.”

Brandy held out her hands. “We both appreciate sweets a bit too much.”

“Doesn’t show,” Jessica said. “You must live active lives chasing wolves around all day.”

“You got that right.” Brandy motioned to three wolves running around a field to the left of the cabin. “But we wouldn’t have it any other way.” She turned to face Jessica. “And I’ve seen your work online. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Thanks. It keeps me feeling zen.” Unfortunately not all the time. Sometimes, late at night, when the shadows in her bedroom started looking creepy, she didn’t feel zen at all. Unless Shawn was in that bedroom with her. His presence had kept those attacking shadows at bay. The night after he left, however, she’d had the worst nightmares she’d ever had.

“Have you ever made any wolf pieces?” Brandy asked.

Jessica shook her head then considered the small brown wolf Kylie had called Nymph. She’d meandered over to them and was currently sitting on Lug’s tail. The other wolf didn’t seem to mind at all. “But now that I’ve gotten a look at these wolves up close, I think they’d make excellent subjects.” Their lithe forms would be a challenge to capture, but Jessica thought she could do it.

“Well,” Brandy began, walking over to the sanctuary gates. “I’ve been thinking of doing something dramatic here at that entrance. Something that announces where you are, you know? I pictured wolves atop stone pillars. Do you think that’s feasible and something you’d be interested in doing?”

Jessica’s eyes widened. What was with these locals wanting her to share her talents with them? “I’d love to take a stab at it.” She jogged over to her SUV, reached through the open driver’s side window, and grabbed a business card from the center console. “Email me some pictures of wolves in positions you like and once you have the pillars built, we can discuss the scope and size of the wolves themselves.”

Brandy took the card and put it in the back pocket of her jeans. “Sounds like a plan.” She waved a hand around. “Do you want to see the rest of the sanctuary?”

“I’d love to.” Jessica looked around Brandy to see several wolves waiting. “Are they trained tour guides?”

“Sometimes I wonder.” Brandy turned to Shawn and Kole. “Reardon and Jaemus are in the barn if you want to go be manly with them.”

Kole grunted and scratched himself in reply, making everyone laugh, but Shawn gave Jessica what she could only describe as a look of longing. As if he didn’t want to be even a few hundred yards away from her.

“C’mon, lad.” Kole smacked the back of his hand against Shawn’s chest then headed down a dirt path to where Jessica assumed the barn was.

Pausing a moment to give her a caressing once-over with that heated gray-blue gaze, Shawn followed his brother.

“What do you know?” Emma pointed at Shawn. “There is a beating heart inside Shawn’s chest.”

Brandy chuckled. “Yeah. More emotion crossed his face when he looked at you, Jessica, than I’ve ever seen from him. He’s so into you.”

“So into me that he left me.” Horrified, she clamped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” These people were his family. Sarcastic remarks had to stay inside her head.

“I don’t think it’s so much that he left you as it is he ran from his own insecurities and fears,” Emma said.

“What in the world does Shawn have to be insecure or afraid about?” Jessica asked. “He’s the strongest man I know. How else could he have recovered from what happened to him?”

“I think he had a lot of help in the recovery department.” Brandy looped her arm with Jessica’s and led her to a long building near the log cabin. “I think someone made sure he was well cared for.”

Emma patted Jessica’s shoulder as she followed them. “He still needs caring for and you’re the woman for the job, Jessica.”

Jessica knew that. She’d known that the first time they’d met. She and Shawn belonged together. “How do I make him think I’m the woman for the job?”

“We use our superior intelligence,” Brandy said.

“Hurray for female power!” Emma clapped her hands.

Jessica loved being around these women. She’d gotten the same joy out of meeting Nika too. Her life in Maine was remote by design. She had wanted it to be just her and her work. She also didn’t want Brandon to find her. The number of true friends she had was... zero. She’d had to cut ties with any friends she had made when she was in Arizona with Brandon. It wasn’t safe to keep in contact. Besides, most of them had been Brandon’s friends first. Their loyalties would have been to him.

She’d asked one of those friends for help once after a particularly scary encounter with an enraged Brandon. While out grocery shopping, someone had backed into Jessica’s car, leaving the trunk crunched in so that it didn’t open. She’d driven it home, knowing Brandon was going to flip, but she’d had no choice. He was expecting her home at five o’clock sharp. If she was late...

Being late wasn’t an option. She’d pulled into their driveway and wondered if she should back it in instead so maybe he wouldn’t see it. Maybe she’d be able to get it fixed and he’d never have to know.

But of course he’d pulled in right behind her and saw it instantly. Brandon had bulleted out of his car and raced over to her. He’d pinned her up against her car and shouted in her face, assuming she’d been the one at fault for the accident.

“What the fuck happened? What did you do? Why weren’t you paying attention?” He’d slapped her across the face when she hadn’t answered him right away. “How many times do I have to tell you to pay goddamned attention?” He’d shaken her by the shoulders hard enough that the back of her head had smacked against her car window.

She’d seen stars. When she’d moved away from him, he’d snapped. Grabbing her by the hair, he’d threatened to set it on fire with the lighter he pulled from his sweatshirt pocket. Fortunately, his cell phone had buzzed and he’d released her.

Jessica had run into the house, digging out her own cell phone and calling Mia next door. She and Mia had hung out on many occasions and she’d been the closest thing to a best friend Jessica had while being with Brandon.

Mia had picked up on the first ring. “Why do you piss him off, Jessica?” had been her greeting.

Jessica had hung up without speaking and gone into the bathroom to finalize her escape plans.

Brandy and Emma on either side of her now and Nika back at the post, however, struck Jessica as people who would stand up for what was right no matter who was involved.

They were the kind of friends she’d always wanted.

****

“Jessica is amazing,” Kole said as he led Shawn to the barn. “How did you leave her back in Maine?”

That question had been running around in circles in Shawn’s mind since he’d seen Jessica standing on the other side of those jail cell bars yesterday afternoon.

“I blame the trauma of losing my leg,” he said. “Fucked up my brain, rendering me incapable of making good decisions.” Although his decision to leave her hadn’t been a bad one. Jessica Fairheart deserved the best.

He was not the best.

“Hopefully, you’re thinking much clearer now,” Kole said. “You aren’t going to make the same mistake twice.” When Shawn didn’t reply right away, Kole stopped walking. “Shawn, tell me you aren’t thinking of setting her free again.”

“I can’t ask her to spend her life with a man like me. Gods, I’m not a man anymore. Not really.”

“None of us are, brother.” Kole clapped him on the back. “But this soul mate thing doesn’t care. It’s a bond that can’t be ignored.”

“What if I’m the only one who feels the bond? What if she doesn’t?”

Kole burst into laughter. “Are you serious? The looks she’s been giving you clearly say she feels the bond too. You don’t have to be able to read her mind. She wants you, man.”

Though it was nice to hear that his brother thought this, Shawn had his doubts. He pleased Jessica physically, but did she really want him? Like forever?

You know I can hear you, right? Kole’s voice echoed in his head. Would a woman who didn’t want you haul ass down here to see you?

“Get out of my head,” Shawn growled, locking down his thoughts.

“Just trying to make you see that you can have everything that Reardon, Jaemus, and I have found here in Vermont. All you have to do is leave your baggage behind.”

“Baggage? I think being a one-legged man and a three-legged wolf is more than baggage, Kole. Not to mention I’m still fighting for money.”

Kole waved a hand in dismissal. “I’m telling you, if anyone can handle your secrets, Jessica—your soul mate—can.”

They continued up to the barn and Shawn’s earlier conversation with Jessica about secrets rolled through his head. If Kole hadn’t called him, would he have told her what he was? What would her reaction have been? Would she have bolted? Screamed? Called him a monster?

All of those reactions would have made perfect sense, however he couldn’t picture Jessica doing any of them. She wasn’t easily freaked. How else could she have stayed in that ambulance with him while he nearly bled to death after the train accident? She had this thing inside her that let her put people first, regardless of the situation.

Despite what she said, she was an angel. That was a truth he would never let go.

The question was could an angel accept a werewolf?

Only one way to find out, wolf fighter, Flidae said.

Shawn let out a low growl. He didn’t trust the goddess. She probably wanted him to spill his secrets and have everything blow up in his face.

I banished you all to both punish and protect you. I really only want my wolves to learn.

Punish and protect. Some protection from trains would have been damn nice. He shook Flidae’s voice out of his head, but she was never actually gone. She was always watching. Always ready to laugh at his misery. If that wasn’t true, she would have used her magic to give his leg back. To date, she hadn’t done that so he could only cling to his theory that she liked to see him suffer.

You control your own suffering, wolf fighter... and your own redemption.

“Shawn.” Kole shoved him slightly. “Reardon’s talking to you.”

He met his cousin’s gaze. “Sorry. Flidae was also talking to me.”

Reardon, Jaemus, and Kole let out collective growls, all of them understanding how the goddess toyed with them.

“She needs a hobby,” Jaemus said. A moment later, he grabbed his head and squeezed his eyes shut.

“You paid for that comment, didn’t you?” Kole jostled Jaemus by the shoulder.

Jaemus nodded before shaking his head and opening his eyes.

“What are you lads working on here?” Shawn asked to keep his mind from wandering—once again—to Jessica and the fact that she was here in Vermont. And she was coming home with him.

Gods be damned. He couldn’t not think of her.

“Brandy wants to renovate the sanctuary’s entrance gates,” Reardon said. “Jaemus and I are tossing around ideas for these pillars she wants.”

“She just asked Jessica if she’d make wolves for the tops of the pillars.” Shawn loved that both Nika and Brandy had recognized Jessica as the amazing artist she was. He’d seen how hard she worked on her pieces. He knew that brand of dedication and talent was rare.

“Ah, and how is the fair Jessica?” Reardon leaned against a timber post in the barn.

Shawn folded his arms across his chest and regarded his cousin. “You were in on contacting her too?” He leveled his gaze on his brother next. “Without my consent?”

Kole held up his hands. “Listen, lad, I want you to be happy.”

“We all want that, Shawn,” Reardon added.

“Do I get a Happy Team T-shirt?”

“Aye,” Kole said. “They’re pink.”

Shawn shook his head. “To match the leashes these lasses have on all of you.”

“Say what you will,” Jaemus said, “but I’d let Nika leash me any day. I mean, weren’t you getting tired of a different woman every night back home anyway?”

Kole and Reardon murmured their agreement, but Shawn kept silent. He wasn’t ready to admit out loud that what he had with Jessica was unlike anything he’d shared with any woman back in Ireland. That notion tiptoed around the edges of his consciousness. If he gave voice to it, he’d have to surrender to the soul mate bond. He was nearly ready to, but he couldn’t push away the idea that he would never be the kind of man Jessica deserved.

They spent the next hour and a half discussing the best methods for constructing Brandy’s entrance pillars. By the time they were done, drawings had been made and a materials list written.

“You know,” Reardon began, “we still work well together as a unit.”

“It’s like instinct,” Jaemus agreed.

“So here’s what I’m thinking, lads,” Reardon said. “What if we started our own construction company? With four of us and werewolf muscle power, we could get things done for clients in a swift manner and we could work for ourselves.”

“Four?” Shawn raised an eyebrow at his cousin.

“You may not have the know-how... yet... but you have the muscle we need. The rest you will learn on the job with us.”

“This is a great idea.” Kole rubbed his hands together.

Jaemus wagged a finger at Kole. “I’m liking this too. It’d give me more flexibility to do the Wolfman Show each day at Nika’s post too.”

All three of them looked at Shawn and he hated that he was actually considering this. He was a fighter. He beat people up. He didn’t build shit.

“But you could,” Kole said in response to Shawn’s thoughts. “It’d be a step toward being worthy of Jessica, no?”

“And didn’t you spend some time in jail yesterday because of the fighting club?” Reardon asked. “Do you want to chance that happening again?”

Fuck. He didn’t. Sitting in a jail cell made his wolf feel caged. His wolf didn’t like that at all.

“You have a name for this company?” he asked Reardon.

Kole let out a hoot and pretended to punch Shawn in the stomach while Jaemus shook his hand.

Smiling, Reardon looked up to the ceiling of the barn. “A name... hmm...” A moment later, he snapped his fingers. “Got it. Warrior Construction.”

“Perfect,” Jaemus said. “Warrior Construction. We’ll battle all your projects so you don’t have to.”

All four of them laughed, and Shawn felt more a part of this pack than ever. These men truly were his brethren... even if they were a bunch of lovesick lads completely smitten with their lasses.

“What’s so funny in here?” Kylie stood in the doorway of the barn with Dylan beside her.

“Was it a dirty joke?” Dylan asked. “I want to hear it.”

Reardon stepped up to the boy. “It was not a dirty joke and if it were, you would not be hearing it, lad.”

“C’mon. I’m almost a teenager!” Dylan protested.

“Aye, an almost-teenager whose shoes are untied.” Jaemus pointed at the lad’s hiking boots, which were both tied. “Made you look.”

“Uncle Jaemus!” Dylan shook his head. “How many times do you think I’m going to fall for that trick?”

“At least a hundred.”

Dylan and Kylie chuckled when Jaemus and Kole pretended to battle each other with long, skinny pieces of wood they’d picked up from Reardon’s lumber pile.

Shawn watched, reminded of their time out on the battlefield. There was an art to being a warrior. Much of it was graceful steps and well-placed strikes. Rhythm of movement and consciousness of one’s body came into play as well. Would his missing leg ruin his success on the battlefield now? He had good mobility with the prosthesis, but he was a bit slower. Fighting in the K.O. Club worked out all right because his werewolf senses allowed him to anticipate his opponent’s moves, giving him plenty of time to plan out his own advances. That fighting also took place in a contained space. Shawn remembered running across open fields at incredible speeds to bring down his targets back in his time.

He couldn’t run across open fields anymore. Was hoping for a return to Ireland—a return to his former life—foolish? Would he be unable to react fast enough? Who would he even fight with anymore? Reardon’s army no longer existed thanks to Flidae.

What’s the point?

“Mom says to come to the cabin. She’s going to grill some stuff if you all want to stay,” Dylan said.

“Can we stay, Dad?” Kylie threw herself at Kole who wrapped his arms around the girl and squeezed. “I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” Kole said.

“Growing werewolves need constant food,” Kylie said.

Jaemus tugged on the end of Kylie’s long blonde hair. “Not just growing werewolves. And I never say no to grilled food.”

“You don’t say no to food of any kind, brother,” Reardon said.

Jaemus grinned. “Hey, this place has food that far surpasses what we’re accustomed to eating.”

“I can’t argue with that.” Shawn remembered some of the foods Jessica had prepared for him when he’d stayed with her. Everything she’d set in front of him, he’d devoured, always asking for seconds, sometimes thirds. Whether she was a phenomenal cook or the ingredients available in this time were just superior, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that meal times were among his favorite times. Second only to making love times. Nothing could top that. Especially with Jessica.

“Okay, fine.” Kole released Kylie. “We’ll stay.”

With a cheer, Kylie grabbed Dylan by the arm and dragged him toward the barn doors. “Let’s make sure your mom has the cheese I like.”

“Why would she want to ruin grilled meat with cheese?” Shawn asked.

Kole led them all out of the barn after Reardon shut off the lights. “Hey, she’s been a little girl longer than she’s been a werewolf. She’s still incorporating her former favorite tastes with her new favorite tastes.”

“I’ve incorporated maple syrup into my collection of favorite tastes,” Jaemus said. “Maple syrup is good on everything.”

When they reached the cabin and Shawn saw Jessica sitting on the couch in Reardon’s living room, he had an uncontrollable desire to test that particular maple syrup theory.

Chapter Five

Shawn knew how to fill a doorway. Seeing all the men come into Brandy’s cabin was like watching a man-candy parade, but Jessica’s gaze immediately zeroed in on Shawn. His broad shoulders called out to her from beneath his T-shirt—a T-shirt she wanted to rip to shreds with her teeth.

Shit. Where did that come from?

Jessica crossed her legs, uncrossed them, then crossed them again. Suddenly her core was wet and ready for the only man to ever truly satisfy her. How was she going to keep herself under control until they got back to Shawn’s cabin? While she enjoyed the company of Brandy, Emma, and Meredith, her entire body longed to be alone with Shawn.

When her fingertips tingled, she clamped her eyes shut to block out the image of Shawn. Panic flooded over her.

This can’t happen. Not now.

Her heart thundered in her chest and if she wasn’t careful, the secret she’d guarded successfully since she was sixteen would be revealed to everyone in this room.

Not in front of the children.

She’d lucked out the first time this had happened. Only one person had seen it—her high school boyfriend. The one who had been forcing himself on her in the bed of his father’s pickup truck on the Fourth of July. Fortunately, he’d been drunk and she’d convinced him he hadn’t seen anything unusual. If he’d blabbed... she didn’t even want to think of the consequences.

She’d spent several months after that first time wondering what in the hell was wrong with her. How could she do what she’d done? Could it be controlled? Would she hurt someone? Over time she’d learned to push that part of her way down deep inside. She’d kept her distance from people. Solitude was her best defense.

In this room full of completely sober people, however, she wouldn’t be able to play that drunk card to hide her secret. They’d know what they saw was real and they’d either freak or want explanations.

Jessica didn’t have any. She hadn’t had any... issues... since that one time in high school and when she’d escaped from Brandon. She’d kept it all under wraps and it needed to stay that way.

She bit her lip to keep her grounded in the here and now, to tame the wild desire for Shawn boiling over inside her, and pictured the last piece of pottery she’d made. A waist-high vase for a client in Canada, a marine biologist who was redecorating her office. Painted in blues and greens, the piece had the aquatic feel she was going for.

Envisioning this vase worked. The tingle went away. Jessica could once again focus on being in that cabin. She just couldn’t look at Shawn. Not until they were able to get naked. If he knew what she was—what she really was—he’d never want to get naked with her again.

“What kind of food on the grill is your favorite?” Kylie plopped onto the couch beside Jessica.

“Can I only pick one kind?” Good. Mundane conversation would help her.

Kylie giggled. “Yes. What’s your toppity-top choice?”

Jessica set her chin in her hands and pretended to think hard. About grilled food. Only grilled food. “Hmm... I guess I like good, old-fashioned hamburgers on the grill the best... with a side of earthworms of course.”

Dylan and Kylie both shouted, “Gross!” A fit of giggles erupted immediately after.

Jessica sensed Shawn’s smile from across the room and when she risked a glance his way, she noticed the rest of the adults. Each of them had their noses slightly upturned as if they were smelling something. She took in a big sniff of her own, but only smelled the air freshener Brandy had plugged into the wall nearby.

What are they smelling? And why didn’t she smell it too?

Kylie leaned closer, her face nearly burrowing into Jessica’s hair.

“Give her some space, pixie,” Kole said. “Sorry about her.”

“It’s no problem,” Jessica said. “But do I smell funny or something?”

She didn’t think it was possible, but the adults became even more motionless. Kylie did too.

Dylan looked around at all of them. “You smell nice, Jessica,” he said, nudging Kylie. “Like wildflowers and... fresh air, right?”

“Yeah,” Kylie agreed, her brows furrowed.

“Oh, you’re a sweetheart, Dylan.”

“Aye,” Reardon said, clamping his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “He’s a real smooth talker.”

“He didn’t learn that from you, Reardon,” Jaemus said with a grin.

Reardon pointed to Brandy. “I do all right. I snagged her, didn’t I?”

“Pure dumb luck,” Kole said.

Jessica enjoyed the good-natured ribbing among the men, especially when Reardon held up his left hand to cover a middle finger sent to Kole.

“Let’s agree that you’re all super suave with the ladies.” Emma rolled her eyes.

“If by suave you mean bumbling fools, then yes, they are definitely suave,” Brandy said.

Reardon stepped over to his wife and wrapped her up in a big bear hug. “Let’s go prepare the meat for the grill, fairy lass, before you get yourself into trouble.” He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

“I don’t mind a little trouble.” Brandy pressed a kiss to the underside of Reardon’s stubbly chin.

He let out a growl and nudged her toward the kitchen, Brandy’s laughter echoing as he chased after her.

“They’re going to kiss in there,” Kylie said.

“They’re always kissing.” Dylan made a face, but Jessica saw him toss a quick glance to Kylie, whose cheeks flared.

Emma and Kole saw it too.

“Kylie, come help me set the table in the dining room.” Emma held out her hand and Kylie took it, allowing Emma to pull her up from the couch. “The trouble with adopting an almost-teenager is they grow up too fast.”

“Not if I can help it,” Kole mumbled.

Thirty minutes later they were all squeezed in around the dining room table, chowing down on the tastiest hamburgers Jessica had ever eaten.

“We should try drizzling maple syrup on hamburgers,” Jaemus said, nudging Nika beside him, who had arrived after closing her trading post for the evening.

“I sell a locally-made BBQ sauce that has maple syrup in it,” Nika said, “so it would probably be great on these burgers.”

Jessica felt Shawn’s eyes on her and somehow she knew he was thinking about drizzling syrup all over her and licking it off. The vision of that was so incredibly clear in her mind that she almost moaned. How was this man able to turn her on without even touching her? What kind of magic was that?

The kind I want right now.

Shawn’s chair scraped along the wood floor. “I’m full. We should go, Jessica.”

She wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood as he did. “Thank you so much, everyone. You’ve all made me feel so welcome here.”

“We are a friendly bunch, aren’t we?” Emma grabbed her plate and Jessica’s. As she made her way around the table, collecting plates, she said, “Have you ever been sailing, Jessica?”

“Sailing? No.”

“You’re going tomorrow with us. You too, Shawn.” Emma took their used plates to the kitchen.

Jessica looked to Kole who said, “Emma’s band mate, Torrin, bought a sailboat and is taking us out.”

“He won’t mind two extra people?” she asked, intrigued by the idea of sailing. The water always seemed so vast, offering an anonymity Jessica found enthralling.

“No,” Kole said. “Torrin is a more-the-merrier type of guy. All the guys are.”

When she looked to Shawn, he shrugged as if to say, Your choice, Angel. God, she loved when he called her angel.

“Okay then. Count us in.” She arched an eyebrow at Shawn as if to say, What do you think of this?

His answering grin told her he wasn’t thinking past getting her back to his cabin tonight.

“What’s the name of Emma’s band?” she asked before allowing herself to get all fired up over the prospect of Shawn’s hands on her.

“Hendrake.” Kole stood, brushing crumbs off his jeans in the process.

“Wait.” Jessica glanced back to the kitchen where Emma had gone with the dishes. “Emma is Emma Rhodes of Hendrake?”

Kole nodded. “You’ve heard of the band?” His smile clearly reflected his pride in his fiancée.

“Yeah. I heard them on the radio and immediately went to their website. I bought every song they had. Great sound. Good for turning clay.”

“Hey, Beauty,” Kole called.

Emma poked her head into the dining room. “Yeah, Beast?”

Jessica chuckled at their nicknames. Beauty definitely fit Emma, but Kole didn’t look like much of a beast. Sure, he was big and muscular—like Shawn—but he didn’t appear to be all that menacing.

“Jessica has all of Hendrake’s songs.”

Emma rushed to Jessica’s side, an expression of pure glee on her face. “You do?”

“Yeah. I was saying I heard Hendrake—”

“On the radio!” Emma did a little dance around where Jessica still stood. “And you liked what you heard?”

“I loved it.” The next thing Jessica knew, she was swept up into Emma’s dance party.

“Looks like your plan for world domination is going well, Emma,” Nika said. “You have fans in Maine.”

“Of course they only get one decent radio station in Jessica’s corner of Maine,” Shawn said.

Everyone stared at Shawn.

“What? It’s true.” He bristled and tucked the chair he’d been sitting on farther under the table.

“Not questioning the validity of the statement,” Kole said. “Just surprised you actually shared a tidbit from your time in Maine.”

So he hasn’t spoken about staying with me. Jessica had questions about the why of that. Had his time with her been miserable? Was he trying to forget it?

Shawn shrugged then sent Jessica another grin hot enough to melt her clothes off. “What happens in Maine...”

“Stays in Maine,” she finished. “Weren’t we leaving?”

“We were.” He stepped over to her and turned her to face the doorway. Prodding her into a walk—which didn’t take much effort—he said, “Thanks for the food and the prying.”

“See you tomorrow,” Emma called after them.

“Maybe I wanted you all to myself tomorrow,” Shawn grumbled in Jessica’s ear as they reached the door. He held it open for her and allowed her to pass before him.

A warm night breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. Light from the nearly full moon illuminated the forest, turning everything silvery. The sanctuary wolves were dark shadows moving about like the silent predators they were. Jessica often wondered if other animals knew what she was. Did they sense that something inside her made her more like them?

Had Reardon and the others sensed that when they were sniffing in the living room?

Does Shawn know?

“I want my hands all over you, Angel,” he whispered when they reached her SUV.

No. He didn’t know. A man who wanted her as much as Shawn appeared to was certainly unaware of her... condition.

“I want your hands all over me too.” She needed his hands all over her.

He held out his hand for her keys. “Let me drive. It’ll be faster.”

She didn’t argue. After dropping the keys in his waiting palm, she hopped into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. She spent most of the ride with one hand clenched to the door handle and the other embedded on the dashboard. How Shawn was able to see on the nearly pitch black roads to drive that fast was a complete mystery to her, but somehow he got them both safely to his cabin.

“Sorry if that ride made you want to toss your burger,” he said after shutting off the engine and handing her keys back to her. “But I couldn’t waste another moment.”

“Damn,” she said. “Now I have to forgive you for driving like a madman.”

He shook his head, a sexy smile turning up the left side of his beautiful mouth. “No. You have to punish me.”

“Oh, is that the way you want it tonight?”

Shawn had always been gentle with the way he touched her, but she hadn’t forgotten how he didn’t mind if she got a little rough with him. Remembering now made a hot zip of desire race through her.

“I want it anyway you’ll give it to me, Angel.” He leaned across the center console and teased her lips with his. “And I want it over and over again.”

“Greedy.”

“Aye. When it comes to you, I can’t get enough.” Another heated kiss engulfed her and she could barely tear herself away long enough to get out of the SUV.

Fortunately, the moment she closed the passenger side door, Shawn whisked her off her feet and kissed her all the way to the front door of the cabin. He only set her down so he could unlock the door.

When they were both inside, he shut the door and locked it. “No one is disturbing us. I’m not thinking of another person until the sun comes up. There’s only you and me tonight.”

Jessica loved the sound of that.

****

Alone. Finally. Shawn had barely been able to contain his desire back at Brandy’s home. Jessica’s smell filled his nose and made him want to claim her again and again. This soul mate bond was primal and something he could no longer ignore. He wasn’t strong enough to deny himself the pleasure that came from making love to Jessica Fairheart. He’d gotten her taste back into his system and no amount of willpower would be enough to keep him from wanting her. Walking away once had been hard. Walking away a second time was impossible.

“It’s a beautiful night out,” Jessica said as she stood by the sliding glass doors that opened to the woods behind Shawn’s cabin. “Too beautiful to be inside.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, a suggestion in the arch of her brow.

“You want to be together out there?” he asked.

She nodded. “Do you have a blanket?”

He headed to the hall closet and pulled out an oversized red and black flannel blanket Emma had bought for him after he’d found this cabin.

“Welcome to the neighborhood,” she’d announced as she handed him the blanket. “And welcome to this time period.”

He held the blanket out to Jessica now. “Will this do, your highness?”

She swatted his chest, but he caught her hand before she could break the contact and pulled her up against him. He slid his arm around her waist, his hand coming to rest at the small of her back as he pressed her tighter, closer.

“That blanket will be perfect.” She tugged on it, but he wouldn’t let go.

“I only see one perfect thing in his cabin, Angel, and it’s not this blanket.”

He leaned his head down and captured her lips, loving when her arms slid up to his shoulders and clamped on as if she didn’t intend on going anywhere without him. He didn’t intend on letting her.

He stepped back from her and opened the sliding glass door. “Under the stars. Now.” Warm, lilac-scented air wafted in and combined with Jessica’s fragrance, creating something that put a spell on Shawn.

Was it possible to be drunk on someone’s scent?

Aye, Flidae whispered in his head.

Okay. Then he was. Completely.

He led Jessica to a little clearing amongst the maple trees where a circle of moonlight illuminated the ground. After spreading out the blanket, he kneeled—a little awkwardly—on it, taking Jessica down with him. Slowly he rolled to his back, positioning her on top of him and wrapping his arms around her. He wanted to be able to hold her like that for hours on end. Did she want that too?

“You’re always so warm,” she said, sliding to his side and snuggling in under his left arm.

Werewolves have extra heat, he wanted to tell her, but that would surely send her running. He surprised himself with how much he didn’t want her running away from him. Though he’d done it to her, and from the looks of things, she’d survived. What had she thought when she’d awakened on that morning and found him gone? Had she hated him? Had she cried?

He loathed that thought. He’d left to spare her from the heartache he was sure to cause her, but in leaving had he broken her heart just the same?

“I’m so sorry, Angel.” He could barely get the words out.

She stilled beside him. “Sorry about what?”

“Everything. About the way you found me bleeding and half-dead on the train tracks. About the pain in the ass I was when you took me in. About leaving.” He fingered her silky hair. “About not being the man you deserve.”

She placed her index finger over his lips and shook her head. “I’ve been with men who didn’t deserve me. It’s different with you, Shawn. So different. I feel as if there are parts of me that are only complete when I’m with you.” She brushed her lips against his in the softest of kisses, but one he felt absolutely everywhere. “You don’t have to apologize either. Yes, I wish I had found you in a way that was far less painful for you.” She ran her hand over what remained of his left thigh, always knowing where to touch him so he could still feel it. “Yes, I wish you hadn’t been such a pain in the ass when you were recovering.”

He opened his mouth against her finger, but she pinched his lips closed with her index finger and thumb, grinning as she did so.

“But I still enjoyed taking care of you.” She leaned over and teased his mouth with hers. “Yes, when you left, the emptiness almost broke me.”

Shawn squeezed his eyes shut. “Angel...”

She shook her head. “I don’t feel empty now, and maybe that time apart made some things clear to me.”

“What kinds of things?” His throat was tight. He hated knowing he’d hurt her, especially when that had been precisely what he’d been trying to avoid.

“Things like we need to be honest with one another.”

“I honestly want to kiss you some more.” He slid his fingers up into her hair as he coaxed her down so he could get at those fabulous lips of hers.

“I honestly want that too.” She indulged him in a steamy round of kissing, making him instantly want to bury himself inside her.

“I honestly think you should be naked in the next few moments.” He tugged on her tank top.

“I honestly think you better get to work on that.”

Shawn sat up and slid his hands under her shirt, pressing his palms against her smooth, warm skin. A growl slipped out of his throat—one that sounded way more wolf than man. When he met Jessica’s gaze, however, desire pooled in her eyes.

Not fear.

If she knew what he really was, would she be afraid? Would she tell him to stay away? Would she never want to make love to him again?

He imagined if the tables were turned. If he were still a regular man and she was the monster. Would he no longer want her?

She shrugged out of her tank top and removed her bra, exposing all that heavenly beauty.

I’ll always want her. That was a universal truth. No matter what she was or wasn’t, he’d want to spend his days worshiping that perfect body.

“I lost my shirt and bra,” she said. “Your turn to lose two pieces of clothing.”

“Whatever the lady wants.” Shawn toed off his boots and pulled off his socks. “There you go.”

Jessica put her hands on those lovely hips of hers. “While these piggies,” she ran her fingers over the toes of his right foot, “are adorable, I was hoping you’d remove something more revealing.” She walked her fingers up his right leg, over his knee, along his thigh, and circled around his ready erection, eliciting a needy groan from him.

“I think that can be arranged, Angel.”

He nearly tore off his T-shirt as she unzipped his pants and surrounded his dick with her hand. She pumped slowly until Shawn couldn’t take anymore.

“Inside you. Need to be inside you. Now.” He slid his hands into the waistband of her jeans while she used her free hand to unzip them. They were off, along with her panties, and discarded in seconds.

Jessica let go of him so she could get his pants and boxers off and add them to the growing pile of clothes at the corner of the flannel blanket. Her hand glided up his prosthetic leg and though he couldn’t feel that touch, something about seeing her touch him there so freely, so lovingly made his feelings for her more potent, more urgent, more consuming. For some reason, Jessica Fairheart didn’t care that he was missing parts.

What other flaws was she willing to overlook?

You have to expose those flaws to find out, wolf fighter, Flidae said in his mind.

Hadn’t Flidae gotten upset with Kole and Emma when Emma’s human band mate, Torrin, found out what they were? Hadn’t she erased Torrin’s memory of werewolves? Why would she encourage him to share that knowledge with Jessica?

Soul mates, was all the goddess said before she was gone again.

Jessica’s hands raking over his chest distracted him from thinking any more about revealing his flaws. All he wanted to do now was make love to this beautiful woman who had been nothing but kind to him from the moment they’d met. He had to make up for leaving her the way he did. He had to show her how he felt about her.

He cupped her face and ravished her mouth as he rolled them so she was on her back. Rising to his arms above her, he loved the way her dark hair fanned out over the blanket, how the moonlight illuminated her curves and smooth, touchable skin, how she parted her legs for him in invitation.

“You’re cleared for landing.” She grinned and if the woods around them suddenly burst into flames, he couldn’t have stopped what they were doing.

Lowering, he took one of her breasts into his mouth and licked her nipple to taut attention as she wriggled and moaned beneath him. He concentrated the same efforts on her other breast until she was digging her nails into his shoulders and begging him to enter her.

Slowly—so slowly—he pushed into her, loving the tight fit, the warmth, the rightness of being inside her. She surrounded him and he belonged right there. Belonged like he’d never belonged anywhere else.

They found their rhythm instantly, the friction between their bodies driving Shawn to the edge. The smell of summer soil, wildflowers, and Jessica filled him with a sense of... of home.

Home? That word was foreign to him. After their parents died, he and Kole had fended for themselves, roaming wherever, whenever. Their lives with Reardon’s army had been those of wanderers too, traveling to where the fighting was.

But this? A gorgeous, strong woman willing to care for him. Lovemaking that left no doubt magic existed in the world. A place that catered to both the man and wolf in him. This all added up to something he could call home. Something he wanted to call home.

Jessica climaxed with a cry of his name and he was right there with her, tumbling, freefalling, shuddering with pure bliss. Her body tightened around his and pulsed until he couldn’t imagine feeling this good doing anything else. She was his addiction and he couldn’t live without regular fixes of her.

“God, we’re good at this,” she said as she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed, her insides still gripping him enough that he could easily go another round.

“Very good.”

She shifted a little beneath him, her dark eyes going wide. “Oh, are you... can you...”

“I am and I can.” He slid his hands to her sides and picked her up, rolling to his back in the process. “You game?”

Her cheeks were flushed and all those dark waves of hair framed her angelic face. She was the sexiest thing without even trying. The fact that she didn’t know how damn gorgeous she was made her all the more appealing. Her quiet humility turned Shawn on so completely.

“I would never say no to this game. Not with you on my team.”

He rubbed his chin on her shoulder, stopping when he got to her neck to nuzzle his stubble against her ear. That was all it took to have her thrusting her hips into him and that rhythm was right there again.

Gods, I love that rhythm...

Good things could happen to a man that had that rhythm in his life. He was sure of it. So sure that as they lay tangled on the blanket and gazing up at the night sky, he kissed along her jaw, stopping at her ear.

“Stay in Vermont with me, Angel,” he whispered.

She didn’t reply right away. She didn’t move. She didn’t do anything for so long, Shawn suspected she hadn’t heard his request.

He got up to one elbow and traced lazy circles on her flat stomach with his index finger, watching as her eyes closed. “Stay in Vermont with me,” he said again.

She opened her eyes and stared into his, a slight smile on her lips. “I heard you the first time, but I can’t, Shawn. I have orders to fill.” She rolled to her side to face him, sliding a hand up to stroke his cheek. “Come to Maine with me.”

“Can’t. I need...” He closed his eyes now. He was about to say he needed to stay near the pack. “Reardon wants to start a construction company. He wants me to join him, Jaemus, and Kole. I think it’s something I should do.”

“So do I. It’s got to be better than a career of fighting.”

“I’m good at fighting.”

“No doubt.” She ghosted her fingers over his pectorals, up and down his abs, and along his biceps. “But these muscles will serve you well in construction too.”

“I suppose.”

“You’re not happy about working with your brother and cousins?”

“I’m grateful for the chance, but I’m not sure. I have a lot to learn.”

“You can do it.” Jessica dropped light kisses along his collarbone and Shawn didn’t see how he could go without that at least once every day.

“If I found a place for you to work here, would you stay in Vermont?” He knew he sounded desperate, but he didn’t care. He needed Jessica close by. He was done denying that.

“I... guess.” She sat up. “But where are you going to find me a place?”

“I’ve already got one.”

Chapter Six

Jessica made a circle around the barn on Shawn’s property. When he’d yanked her to her feet and hurried into his clothes, urging her to do the same, her curiosity was too high not to follow him. He was a man on a mission and his eagerness turned her on something fierce. His desire to have her stay in Vermont warmed every part of her.

But how long does he want me to stay?

He’d left her behind once before. If she agreed to stay in Vermont with him, how long would it be before he didn’t want her there anymore? What would she do then? Where would she go? She’d built a quasi-life in Maine. Brandon hadn’t found her. She was safe there. Would she be as safe in Vermont?

“So what do you think? Will this space work?” Shawn asked as he wrapped his big hands around her wrists and tugged her closer so her front pressed against his front. “We can get any equipment you need.”

“I love the space, but it’s silly to buy equipment when I have the whole setup in Maine.” She shrugged free of his hold, not able to think clearly when his hands were on her. “Isn’t it?”

“Not as silly as being apart from one another,” he said.

Well, gosh. Hard to reason logically with a man who said absolutely adorable things like that.

“Look,” Shawn stepped closer to her so she had no choice but to look up at him. “I’ve been saving money to pay you back for this.” He smacked a hand against his left thigh.

“I don’t—”

“Want to be paid back,” he finished. “Aye, I figured you’d say that, but it doesn’t change the fact that I feel compelled to square the debt, Angel. You made it possible for me to be standing here with you right now. I don’t...” He shook his head and cleared his throat. “I don’t know where I’d be if you hadn’t rescued me in so many ways. If you won’t take the money as payment, then let’s use it to build you a studio in this barn. I want... no, I need you here with me.”

She reached up and ran her fingers along his stubble as his arms came around her. Leaning her head against his chest, she inhaled his woodsy, earthen scent. She stilled when her fingers tingled again. Why did she keep feeling that sensation around him? She hadn’t felt it when he’d been with her in Maine. She’d never been concerned he’d discover her secret, but spending time in Vermont with him—and his family—made the parts of her no one should see try to come out more than once. Maybe staying around him wasn’t a good idea.

When he rested his chin on top of her hair and squeezed his arms tighter around her though, she couldn’t deny wanting to stay.

“Besides work, what’s in Maine for you?” he asked.

“Absolutely nothing.” She craned her head back to look him in those beautiful gray-blue eyes. Eyes that looked more vulnerable now than she’d ever seen them. Waiting for her to say she’d stay was killing him. “Okay, here’s the deal. Some of the money you saved can go to fitting this barn with what I need to do my work, but the rest has to go to the construction company Reardon wants to start.”

Shawn opened his mouth to protest so she clamped her hand over his mouth. His lips turned up under her palm and a light sparkled in his eyes.

“Those are the terms, buddy. Accept them and I’ll stay. Reject them and I’m out of here.”

His eyebrows rose as he pulled her hand off his mouth. “Pushy angel, aren’t you?”

“Hey, I’m a businesswoman. I know how to negotiate terms.” She tapped her foot and folded her arms across her chest. “So what’s it going to be, sir?”

He leaned his head down and brushed his lips against hers. “I suppose I have no choice but to accept your terms.” Tugging playfully on her hair, he released her. “Let’s go inside the cabin and order what you need. Might take a few days to set it up, but in the meantime, we can clean out this barn and repair anything that needs fixing.”

“Already talking like a construction dude. That’s hot.” She pressed her fist to his abs which tightened in response. God, she just had him naked. How could she want him naked again?

“I don’t know,” he said as she turned to look around the barn again.

“What?” She met his gaze, confused by the shocked expression on his face. “What don’t you know?”

He shook his head. “Lots of things. Never mind.” He rubbed his stubble then reached out for her, his head cocked to the side as if listening for something. “Come on, Angel. Let’s go inside.”

She could drive back to Maine and pack up all her stuff, equipment included, and move in, but she didn’t want to assume he’d want that. He was asking her to stay, but he’d never mentioned how long he wanted her stay to last.

Maybe stay was a temporary word to him.

She followed him into his cabin and sat beside him on his couch as he powered up a laptop.

Setting it on her lap, he said, “Order away, Angel. I’m going to get us something to drink, aye?”

“Sure. Thanks.”

While he was banging around in the kitchen, she made a quick list of what she needed to complete her outstanding orders. She didn’t want to go nuts setting up a fully functional studio. Not when she wasn’t sure where all this was going with Shawn.

Wasn’t sure where it all could go.

Thirty minutes later, she snapped his laptop shut and set it on the wooden chest in front of the couch. Taking a minute to admire that piece, she ran her hands along the dovetail joints and the bulky, wrought iron hinges.

“Like that?” Shawn asked from the chair he’d been sitting in while drinking a beer and watching television.

“It’s gorgeous. Nice craftsmanship.”

“Got it at Nika’s trading post. Jaemus made it.” He planted his bare foot on the top of it. “Sometimes I feel bad using it as a footrest, but a lad needs a place to rest his dogs, aye? Or, in my case, dog.” He moved his left thigh to make his prosthetic leg jiggle a little.

Jessica wanted to laugh, but wasn’t sure if that would be heartless. When she looked up at his face, however, the grin she found there was clear evidence he’d meant what he’d said as a joke. That was different. Joking about what had happened to him. There hadn’t been any of that when he’d been with her in Maine. Being around his family in Vermont had definitely changed him.

How much had he changed? That was the question. Enough to love her?

The television flicked off.

“Time for bed?” He stood, took a moment to balance, and held out a hand to her.

Jessica took his hand, that tingle buzzing at her fingertips again.

“What is that?” Shawn asked as he pulled her to her feet. He studied her hand in his, running his index finger over her knuckles.

She tried to pull free, but he tightened his hold.

“Jessica, what is that? You feel it too, aye?”

“Must be attraction. You know, because you’re so sexy.” She chuckled, but it sounded nervous and shaky to her ears. What if he found out?

A heartbeat of silence hung between them as his gray-blue eyes searched her face.

“Found out what?” he asked.

She blinked up at him, her heart nearly stopping in her chest. “Wait. I didn’t say that out loud. You... you heard me? My thoughts?” How? How could he do that? What else had he heard?

He looked away for a moment, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable.

“No. How could I hear your thoughts, Angel? That’s silly.” He offered her a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes—his now unsure, guarded eyes. “You just seemed as if you were trying to keep something from me.” He angled his head, his gaze lasering through her now. “Are you?”

She puffed out a breath as if to say he was being ridiculous, but she could feel her cheeks heat. She wasn’t a skilled liar. Never had been.

But... if ever an opening existed for her to tell him everything—spill every secret she had—this was it.

“No,” she said instead. “What would I be hiding?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. That you’re secretly a man?”

She barked out a laugh—a real one—her nerves settling a bit with his joking around. “You had your hands all over me, Shawn.” She gestured out the sliding glass doors to the dark backyard. “Did you find any indications that I’m secretly a man?”

He circled his arms around her waist and drew her close. “Not one single shred of evidence. You are all woman, Angel. All woman.”

And a little something else. But he didn’t need to know that. Ever. If she could help it.

Shawn held her gaze for a second longer before he shook his head slightly and tugged her toward the hallway.

“Come on. We apparently have a Sunday full of sailing on tap for tomorrow. We should get some sleep.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “Even if sleep is the last thing I want to do with you. We have so much time to make up for.” He turned to face her outside his bedroom. “Time I wasted. I’m sorry.”

She cupped his cheek, letting her thumb brush over his light brown whiskers. “You’ve apologized, Shawn. I’ve accepted. Let’s move forward, okay?”

He nodded and moved his head to press a kiss to the pad of her thumb. Pointing to the door after his bedroom, he said, “You can have the bathroom first.”

“Hmm. That’s sweet of you, but I might need some help in there.” Jessica adored the growing smile on Shawn’s face.

“Well, I wouldn’t want you fumbling around in there, helpless and wasting water.”

“What kind of host would you be?” She wagged a finger at him then shed her tank top, dropping it in the hallway.

A low growl rumbled in Shawn’s throat as he advanced on her. She let out a squeak as she ran for the bathroom, the rest of her clothes hitting the floor as she moved.

They were naked and under the warm spray of the shower in no time, sudsing and worshiping each other’s bodies. Jessica marveled over how it felt as if no time had passed since they’d last seen each other. She still wanted him as much as she’d wanted him back in Maine. His attraction to her hadn’t abated if the way his lips coasted over her wet breasts was any indication. Quite possibly, their time apart had intensified the heat between them. She wanted this thing between them to work.

But can it?

Would the universe allow her to be happy—truly happy—with this man? Her track record hadn’t been so good in the past. She’d gotten involved with men who didn’t know how to love. And she’d ended up hurt, physically, emotionally, mentally.

If Shawn hurt her again, she was certain her battered heart wouldn’t survive. He’d welcomed her to his cabin, demanded she stay, but she knew all too well that at the blink of an eye, everything could change.

Everything.

****

Jessica’s warm body was cuddled up to his right side in bed again and he couldn’t be happier about that.

Happy. That wasn’t something Shawn felt often. Not like this. Not happy as if he could fly or something.

Nice feeling, isn’t it, wolf fighter? Flidae’s question caressed his mind.

But how long would it last? And what was Jessica hiding? What didn’t she want him to find out? What had and a little something else meant?

He was a little something else too. Actually, more than a little something. Being what he was wasn’t a little thing. It was a huge, life-changing surprise a man could never possibly ask a woman to accept.

Unless...

“I like being here with you.” Jessica wiggled closer and slid her leg over his, her foot gliding up and down his right shin.

He’d removed the prosthesis as he usually did every night and once again, she hadn’t appeared to be turned off by the stump. In fact, before settling under the covers together, she’d massaged his left thigh. Her hands there had felt so incredible. Those muscles were often sore from the prosthetic leg itself and from the way it made him walk slightly off kilter. The compensations he made to keep balanced worked these muscles on a continual basis. He never was one hundred percent comfortable.

Except for right now. Having Jessica snuggled against him, her naked loveliness pressed to him, her silky black hair streaming over the pillow, her wildflower smell permeating everything, gave him a sense of peace he wouldn’t have thought possible. With the life he’d lived in Ireland of his time, being turned into a werewolf, his accident, and fighting in the K.O. Club, peace wasn’t something he’d come to expect. In fact, the exact opposite of peace was commonplace instead. He was always at war.

But he didn’t need to be with Jessica. With her, he could be himself... mostly.

Was she being herself though?

“I like having you here, Angel.” He squeezed her closer, dropping a kiss on the top of her head. “Are you comfortable? I know this bed isn’t anything special.”

She pressed her lips against his shoulder. “It’s special because you’re in it.”

“But it’s not comfortable?” He poked her in the stomach and she laughed, the sound making his sparse bedroom... cozy.

“I’ve slept on rocks more comfortably.”

He rolled to his side to face her. “Add new bed to the list of purchases.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.”

“I don’t want you to be fine.” He shook his head and lowered his brows. “I want you to have accommodations fit for an angel.” Leaning forward, he captured her mouth with his.

They kissed until more oxygen was needed and even then, Shawn could do without air. All he needed was in his arms right now.

“Keep kissing me like that and you’ll never get rid of me.”

Maybe that’s the plan. He didn’t voice that thought out loud though. It was too much to ask someone to start again in a new place, but gods, did he want her to. Even if he didn’t deserve her. Even if she was far too good for him.

Even if tons of other men could make her happy.

“But you make me happy.” She wrapped her arms around his waist. A moment later, her entire body tensed.

“It just happened again,” he said, tipping her head up so he could see her face. “We’re in each other’s heads, Angel.”

“Coincidence.” She hid her face against his chest, but he scooted back a bit.

“More than coincidence.” He sat up. “I was going to let it go, but it’s happened too many times tonight.”

“We’re in sync or something. It happens. We’ve spent a lot of time together when you think about it. I know we’ve been apart, but our brains remember.”

Shawn shook his head. “What do you know about soul mates?” He was careful to keep his mind blank except for this question. If she could poke around in his brain, none of his secrets were safe.

“Soul mates?” She sat up too, and now all his mind could think about was how perfect her breasts were. “Like one true loves and such?”

“Aye. Finding your perfect match. You believe in that?”

Jessica nibbled on her bottom lip. “Well... I’d love to, but experience has shown me perfection like that is either hard to find or nonexistent.” She looked down to her lap, an expression of such hurt on her face that Shawn’s heart ached. When she gazed back up at him, her big, brown eyes were full of tears. One escaped and rolled down her smooth cheek.

Shawn reached up and caught the tear with his thumb before it slid past her jaw. “I think soul mates are possible.” He kissed the wet trail that tear had left behind. “I think we’re soul mates. That’s why we can hear each other. You’re in here.” He tapped his forehead then pressed his index finger to hers. “I’m in here. We’re in tune.”

She smiled, but the sadness remained in her eyes as she rubbed her forehead. “Careful running around in here. You might not like everything you see.”

“Likewise.” Tell her. But he couldn’t get the words past his lips and he was afraid to even think them now. So he’d bury risky content deep, deep in his subconscious, lock it down, and just enjoy the fact that Jessica Fairheart was in his bed right now.

“Tired?” she asked.

“Aye. You?”

She yawned in response and scooted back under the covers. “Let’s get some shut-eye so we can follow captain’s orders on the high seas tomorrow.”

He listened for a moment longer, but she didn’t think anything more, her subconscious as locked up as his was now.

Some warrior, Flidae said. You used to battle harder than this, wolf fighter.

I’m not done battling. I’m not giving up.

Flidae sighed in his head. Not exactly riding to victory either.

I’ll do it my way.

The hard way. Flidae left, but her disappointment lingered. What was that about? Shawn could never figure out what the goddess wanted exactly. Did she want him to suffer? Did she want him to pursue happiness? Did she want to drive him crazy?

She was excelling at that last one.

He reminded himself that two nights ago he’d been alone. Tonight he had Jessica in his bed. That felt like victory.

When Shawn opened his eyes next, morning sun illuminated his bedroom, revealing the fact that he hadn’t dreamed Jessica was in his bed. She was really there, still sleeping, her face peaceful, her skin glowing as the sunlight beamed on her beautiful face.

He shifted slightly so he could watch the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. She was on her back, her hair a black fan around her head and her arms and legs stretched out. She took up twice as much space as a woman of her size should. Stifling a chuckle, he ran his index finger from her wrist to her arm and up along her shoulder. How was her skin so silky? How had he thought he could live a life without being able to touch her whenever he wanted to?

She stirred and let out a little sigh.

Gods, I have to keep her. Because living without her simply wasn’t an option.

Jessica’s eyes slowly opened and she turned her head to look at him. An instant smile bloomed on her lovely lips. “Morning.” She curled toward him and pressed her lips to his bare shoulder.

“Good morning.” And it was a truly good morning. Shawn had his woman, she’d agreed to stay in Vermont, they were going sailing on what looked like a gorgeous summer day outside, and he was about to start his day in the best way possible.

He made a move to roll onto Jessica, but she beat him to it, straddling his hips. She took his hands in hers and pinned his arms above his head. Pushing her hot core against his ready erection made him growl low in his throat.

“Mmm... I love that noise.” Jessica leaned forward and dropped kisses along the curve of his neck. “I love how you smell.” She ran her nose up and down his throat, nipping lightly here and there, eliciting more rumbles from him. “I love how you feel beneath me.”

“I love being beneath you, Angel. The view from here is extraordinary.” He reached up and wound some of her hair around his fist. Tugging slightly, he coaxed her down toward him. “You’re my favorite breakfast.”

“What about lunch and dinner?” She teased his lips with soft kisses.

“Don’t need lunch or dinner with a breakfast like this.” He sat up and caught her mouth with his, getting lost in a kiss so deep, so hot, so passionate, he wouldn’t have been surprised if they torched the sheets beneath them. “You’re all I need, Angel.”

She slid her arms around him, hugging him in a way that made him feel a part of her. Truly. When she rose up and seated herself on his arousal, his entire body rejoiced in the warmth, the snugness of her body.

“We can’t be apart,” she whispered. “You know that, right?”

“Aye.” He’d been a fool to attempt to stay away from her.

Her slow movements up and down dragged an orgasm out of him that made his entire body vibrate with pleasure. He forgot where he was, who he was, what he was. There was only this amazing woman riding him, riding him hard.

When she found her own release and shuddered atop him, he gripped her hips, moving her in just the right way to make her shatter a second time.

“Holy shit.” She collapsed on top of him, her hair a silk curtain over his chest. “That was an awesome trick.”

“I thought you might like that.”

“Very much. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“We have some magic, you and me.” He kissed her temple as he caught his breath. He found it hard to believe that two days ago he’d been fighting other men until their blood spilled on a dirty concrete floor. He’d been collecting win after win, dollar after dollar. He’d been handcuffed and carted away with other fighters. He’d been in a jail cell, wondering how he could get the fuck out of this time and back to his own. Back to Ireland.

And now all he wanted was to stay right where he was with Jessica. She made everything better, sweeter, sexier.

“I like this magic,” she said. “My life needs magic.”

An overwhelming sadness suddenly crested over Shawn. He looked up at Jessica, but found no evidence that her mood had changed. He closed his eyes for a moment and a vision of her running—fast, hard, wild—in the forest flashed into his mind. In the next instant, she was gone, but a dark shadow ghosted over soil and rocks and leaves.

With a physical jolt, the image was gone and he opened his eyes. Jessica was still grinning, satisfaction painted on her features.

What the fuck? What had he seen? What did it mean? Something? Nothing?

He cocked his head, listening for Flidae, but once again the goddess offered no help.

“Hey, you okay?” Jessica raked her fingers down his chest then walked them back up to bury them in his hair as she brushed his lips with hers.

“Aye.” He checked the clock by the bed and groaned. “But we are going to be late if we don’t get up now.”

“Boo to getting up now.” She gave him two thumbs down.

“Getting up means that at some point we have to go to bed again. I like the way we go to bed.”

She slid off him. “Me too.”

He positioned himself at the edge of the bed and reattached his prosthesis while she got up and walked around to his side. She reached for his hands and tugged him to standing. He would have told anyone else that he didn’t need any help, but help from Jessica meant more chances to touch her and that was always a good thing.

When she looked beyond him, her eyes widening, Shawn turned around to regard the bed. The fitted sheet had four slashes in it.

Slashes like claw marks.

“What did we do?” She climbed back onto the bed to inspect the tears. “Jesus, the mattress is ripped too.” Holding her hands out, she studied her fingertips. “My nails aren’t long or sharp enough to do that kind of damage. I don’t understand.”

Shawn did. She’d brought out his wolf during their lovemaking. He hadn’t even felt it happening. How was he supposed to guard a secret when she had the ability to reach into those baser parts of him?

She grabbed his hand and inspected his fingertips. “Your nails are trimmed too. How did this happen?”

He shrugged, hoping for a baffled expression. “We’re a little wild.”

“A little. I’d hate to see what damage we’d cause if we got a lot wild.”

Shaking her head and giving the torn up bed another glance, she went to her suitcase he’d brought in last night. After gathering a few items, she said, “I’m going to freshen up. I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” he said. “I’ll put something together for breakfast then we’ll head out.”

She nodded then disappeared into the hallway, leaving Shawn to study the bed. He ran his fingers over the rips and sure enough they were spaced out right to be his claws.

“Fuck.” He raked his hands through his hair then set about finding a fresh T-shirt, his swimming trunks, and cargo pants in his closet. He’d just have to be careful. He’d have to keep a part of his brain on holding back his wolf. He couldn’t totally let go with Jessica. Not if he wanted to save her the grief of finding out she’d made love—repeatedly—to a beast.

After pulling on his trunks and pants, he started for the kitchen but paused in the hall when something black on the wood floor caught his eyes. He bent and picked up a... a feather. Huge, jet black, and shiny, it looked as if it belonged to a raven. A rather large one. Twisting it in his hand, he brought it out to the kitchen where he draped his T-shirt over the back of a chair. With a glance up to the timber beams running along the ceiling of the cabin and finding no ravens roosting there, Shawn set the feather on the kitchen island and stared at it for a few quiet moments.

He found three more on the kitchen floor.

Chapter Seven

Jessica ran a brush through her hair, taming the strands back into place. Her mind kept wandering back to the way she and Shawn had made love. She craved his touch. Her body came alive whenever he was near. And two orgasms back to back wasn’t something to complain about either.

The ripped sheets were a curiosity though. She didn’t remember digging her fingers into the bed with animal abandon and that scared her. What if passion had overridden her control? What if making love to Shawn made her forget to rein herself in?

What if she hurt him while making love to him?

She shook her head as she put on her bathing suit and threw a sundress over it. She braided her hair so it wouldn’t become a worse mess while they were sailing. Peering at herself in the mirror, she inhaled deeply and let the air sift out slowly. She could maintain her control. She could be with Shawn and not endanger him. She could be... normal.

After applying a little makeup and brushing her teeth, Jessica dumped her toiletries back into her suitcase in Shawn’s bedroom and made her way out to the kitchen. The sight of Shawn’s bare back at the stove as he scrambled eggs made her want to climb all over him again. Muscles rippled across those broad shoulders and though a few scars—deep ones—marred his skin, he was still a freaking work of art. The pull to go to him, wrap her arms around his waist, and press her cheek to all that warm skin was unavoidable. Her fingers tingled and she squeezed her hands into fists, willing herself to calm down.

When her gaze settled on the collection of black feathers on the kitchen island, she froze.

“Where did those come from?” She didn’t make a move to come deeper into the kitchen.

Shawn turned around from his cooking. The front of his chest, all toned and covered with just the right amount of light brown hair, made heat flood Jessica’s body.

“They were on the floor in the hall and in here. Odd, aye?” He pointed to the ceiling with his spatula. “Now and then a stray bird sneaks in, but it’s usually something small, starlings and such.” He walked to the island and picked up one of the large black feathers. “This is from something a lot bigger than a starling.”

Setting the spatula down, he rounded the island, a predatory look in his gray-blue eyes as he held the feather out. He dragged its tip along her bare arm and her flesh goosebumped instantly as her fingers vibrated painfully now.

She took a quick step back, almost tripping over her own feet, but Shawn hooked an arm around her waist and kept her steady.

“Sorry, Angel.” He put the feather down and her skin relaxed. “I was just funning with you. Don’t want you to fall and hurt that pretty little head of yours.” He cupped the back of her head and brushed a light kiss to her forehead.

If he kept touching her with that feather and looking at her as if he wanted to devour her whole, he wouldn’t think her head was so pretty. Not after what lived inside her was released.

She clamped her eyes closed and rubbed her temples.

Big hands slid to her biceps, holding her firmly—safely—but there was nothing safe about this moment. Nothing.

Jessica took a step back so Shawn’s arms fell to his sides and he was no longer touching her. Focus on something else. Not the feel of his big, rough hands. Not his woodsy, masculine scent. Not all that brown stubble framing his incredible mouth.

“Scrambled eggs for breakfast?” She edged around him, careful not to let any part of her touch any part of him though that went against every instinct she had.

“Bacon too.” He came over to the stove. “I just didn’t get to that part yet.”

“I can do it.” Because focusing on food might help her gain control again. She couldn’t think about how attracted to Shawn she was. That brand of thinking was dangerous apparently. Her body—her screwed up body—couldn’t handle too much Shawn McMannus.

But why hadn’t she had this reaction when she’d been caring for him in Maine?

She looked over at him as he scraped at the eggs in the skillet. “How did you feel about me when we were in Maine together?”

Simply turning his gaze on her made her fingers tingle again. Dammit. It was getting worse. Like exponentially.

“I was attracted to you,” he said slowly, “but my head was too messed up to process that you are the best thing that’s ever come into my life.” He snaked his arm around her back and pulled her up against him. “My head isn’t messed up now, Jessica. I know what a treasure you are and I plan to treasure you.”

His sexy grin stole her breath and a sudden fevered heat scorched through her.

“I have to... go.” She ran for the front door and nearly ripped it off its hinges to get outside.

The sun hurt her eyes, but she didn’t dare go back for sunglasses or anything else. She had to get out of there right now before it was too late.

“Jessica!” Shawn’s voice echoed in the quiet of the morning.

She wanted to turn back to him, but she needed distance. She’d been wrong to come to Vermont. Wrong to think she could have it all. Wrong to expect happiness.

People like her couldn’t be happy.

She continued running, her insides boiling, but she didn’t stop. Into the woods. Surrounded by the trees. Her feet pounded against the ground, creating a rhythm that beat out her destiny. Her solitary destiny. She wasn’t made to have a partner in this life. That much was crystal clear. She’d tried several times and each time Fate had said, Sorry. You can’t have what everyone else has, Jessica. You must go it alone.

She was grateful for the little happiness she’d found with Shawn, fleeting as it had been. She knew what true love was like because of him. Too bad she couldn’t enjoy all the benefits that came with loving someone. Too bad Shawn’s notion of soul mates wasn’t real.

“Jessica.” Shawn’s hand curled around her arm. How had he caught up to her? His leg slowed him down. She’d had a head start and the forest had blurred around her. She’d been moving at crazy speeds.

Flying almost.

“Don’t make the same mistake I did.” The begging in his voice cut into her. “Don’t run.”

“I have to,” she whispered. “I have to run. Now.”

His grip tightened. “I’m not letting you. You said we couldn’t be apart. You’re right. Whatever is happening right now, you have to let me see. We have to share all of ourselves.”

Share? All of ourselves? What did that mean? What did he have to share?

Shawn reached to the back pocket of his cargo pants and waved the feathers between them. “You have something to tell me.”

She shook her head. She couldn’t. She couldn’t bear to see him learn her secret and reject her.

“I have something to tell you too.” He set the feathers on the ground in front of him then backed up a couple of steps. “Promise you won’t run.”

“It’s better if I—”

“Jessica, promise me.” His face had taken on such an urgent expression.

She nodded, her body warring with conflicting desires. The instinct to run, to protect herself and her secret, coursed through her veins, but the primal need to touch Shawn was as strong.

“Don’t run and I’ll explain after I show you what I need to show you.”

He unzipped his pants and let them and his swimming trunks drop to his ankles. This striptease wasn’t helping matters. Not at all.

Shawn leaned against a nearby tree and removed his leg, setting it down on top of his discarded clothes.

She made a move to come support him even though touching him was a bad idea, but he waved her back with his hand.

Sinking to his hands and knee, he let out a growl as bones snapped and his flesh rippled.

Oh, God...

After a howl erupted from his throat, the man she knew no longer stood in front of her. A large, light brown wolf had taken Shawn’s place. The glowing gray-blue eyes that stared at her now were his and they begged for acceptance.

The wolf sunk down, its one back leg folding under its body as its front paws stretched forward. Its beautiful head rested on those huge paws, while its gaze remained connected with hers.

“Shawn?” She took a tentative step forward, her hand automatically going out to touch the gorgeous creature in front of her.

Don’t be afraid, his voice said in her head.

“Afraid? I’m not afraid.” She kneeled in front of him and scratched the soft fur between his ears. “Surprised. Relieved.”

Relieved? He angled his head at her.

She pressed her lips to his cold, wet nose. “Yes, relieved.”

Standing, she pulled her sundress over her head and ripped off her bathing suit, watching Shawn’s wolf pupils zip open as if he’d seen some prey he’d set his heart on capturing. Fine with her.

“If you can catch me.”

With a loud caw, black wings exploded from her back, stretching to their full span. She flapped the wings once, lifting off the ground as the rest of her body shifted and changed into that of a large raven.

Shawn got to three legs and barked at her, his tail swishing playfully.

You’re beautiful, Angel. Beautiful!

She pumped her wings again, sending her higher. You’re a handsome mutt too.

He growled at her, but she could tell it wasn’t in anger.

I want your whole story, but let’s go for a run first.

It’d been a long time since she’d been in raven form, but Jessica soared between the trees with ease as Shawn ran along below her. She was amazed at how fast he moved for a three-legged wolf. All those muscles he had as a man served him well in wolf form too.

Truthfully, he was much more than a handsome mutt. When the sun glinted off his coat, he turned a warm golden color Jessica could easily track through the woods. He was regal and powerful and more like her than she’d ever imagined.

Stopping on a low branch, she looked down at Shawn as he skidded to a halt right before a small pond. He dipped his head to the water and drank in loud, sloppy slurps. She flew down to his side and nipped at the water before going in all the way, flapping her wings to send a spray of water over her.

Running and flying works up some heat, aye?

Yes, but we already had heat, didn’t we?

Shawn nuzzled his nose along her right wing and she instantly wanted to be back in human form so she could touch him better.

Let’s shift, he said in her mind.

A second later, they were both sprawled naked along the edge of the pond. Shawn scooted over to her and she climbed into his lap. They didn’t waste any time on words. Not yet. There’d be time for explanations, but that time wasn’t now.

Now they needed to feast on one another.

Shawn eased her to her back against soft moss and teased her nipples to tight buds with his tongue. The scent of damp soil, sun-warmed leaves, and wildflowers swirled around them on a light summer breeze. Forest creatures stirred in the ferns, and Jessica felt connected to them all.

When she’d first turned into a raven, she’d been about to be sexually assaulted by her high school boyfriend. She’d wanted to turn several times when she’d been with Brandon, but had been afraid of what he’d do. He did like hunting after all and owned a shotgun.

But today? Shifting in front of Shawn? It had been the first time she hadn’t been ashamed of what she was. He hadn’t recoiled. Hadn’t run away. Because he understood. Understood as no one else ever had or would.

Soul mates, a female voice whispered.

Jessica paused in her nipping on Shawn’s shoulder to look around, but no one was there.

“That’s Flidae,” he rasped as he scraped his stubble along her stomach then parted her legs. “You’ve never heard her before?”

She shook her head.

That’s because I haven’t claimed her, Flidae said. She was unknown to me.

“I’ve spent a lot of time denying this part of me,” Jessica said. “It scared me.”

“I know the feeling,” Shawn said. “But you don’t have to be scared now. We have each other.”

He put his skilled mouth right where she wanted it and conversation became impossible with that much pleasure rolling through her body.

Jessica never expected to find a man like Shawn, but now that she had, she’d fly to any height to keep him.

****

“I knew you were an angel with wings.” Shawn shoveled a forkful of eggs into his mouth and smiled at the amazing woman sitting across from him. He’d been terrified that after she saw his wolf, she’d bolt for good, but luckily his suspicions had been right. Those feathers had come from her. She was like him—a mix of human and creature.

A beautiful mix.

Her feathers were the deepest shade of black he’d ever seen—a moonless night black—and her wings were large and powerful. She flew with grace and speed through the forest, sunlight highlighting faint purple hues in her feathers. Her talons gripped tree branches to support her majestic body and Shawn was certain he could stare at her for the rest of his life.

“I’m no angel, Shawn. Especially not after what I did with you by the pond.” She winked at him over her coffee mug, a slight grin tugging up the left side of her mouth. “Besides, angels have white wings. Mine are black.”

“A dark angel then. My angel.” He slid his hand across the table and put it atop hers. “I didn’t know people like you existed.”

“I didn’t know werewolves were real either.” She threaded her fingers with his. “Neither of us is probably supposed to exist.”

Shawn puffed out a breath. “Aye. I didn’t start out life like this. Did you?”

She shrugged, her black hair shushing over her bare shoulders. Shoulders that twenty minutes ago were gorgeous wings. “I turned for the first time when I was sixteen.” She set her coffee mug down, her long index finger circling the rim. “Brought on by a stressful situation.”

Shawn tightened his grip on her hand. “What happened?”

Her lips turned down at the corners, and when she looked up at him, her dark eyes were full of sadness. “My... my boyfriend tried to rape me.”

Shawn’s claws sprung out of his other hand and dug into the table. He shook his hand, the claws retracting as he did so. “Sorry. You did say tried, aye? As in he wasn’t unsuccessful?”

“Yes. When I realized what he intended to do, my fingers starting tingling. At first, I thought I was having a panic attack, you know? As if I was in shock or something. Then my back hurt and all of a sudden, the wings erupted out of me. We were in the bed of his dad’s truck so the wings stretched out into the open air. My boyfriend freaked. He couldn’t finish what he was doing though, which worked out for me.”

“How did you keep him quiet?”

“He was drunk. Passed out after I shifted. When he woke up, I convinced him his drinking had made him have crazy dreams. He bought it and as far as I know, he never told anyone. We broke up when he dropped me back home and I never talked to him again.”

“And you’ve kept it under control since then?” Shawn knew keeping the animal at bay wasn’t easy.

She nodded. “My raven has been tempted to the surface, but I’ve managed to push it back down.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “Until you.”

“Not because I’m a stressful situation I hope.”

“Stressful? No.” She brought his hand up to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Sexy? Yes. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

He cupped her cheek and ran his thumb over her lips. “Me either. You make my wolf want to howl.”

“So let’s have your story. When did you first change?”

Where to start?

“First you should probably know I’m not the only werewolf in the vicinity.” Would Flidae allow him to tell Jessica these secrets?

“Aye. I will.”

Jessica jumped out of her seat as Shawn looked over his shoulder to see the goddess herself standing in his living room in a cloud of white mist.

“Flidae,” he said.

“Wolf fighter.” Flidae floated toward them and Jessica backed up into the refrigerator. “Do not fear me, raven lass.”

“Because she’s always so friendly,” Shawn mumbled. A second later, his head felt as if it was about to split open. He waved a hand in surrender to the goddess. “All right, all right. I take it back. I’m sorry.” Instantly the pain subsided and he got to his feet to go to Jessica. He stood in front of her to face Flidae.

“An apology? Interesting what you’ll do to show off in front of the raven lass.” Flidae chuckled and the sound made a shiver roll through Shawn. “Now, let me see her.” She raised a hand to signal for Shawn to move.

But he didn’t.

“You can see her from there.” No way was he going to let the goddess do anything to Jessica. To his angel.

“She’s mine first, wolf fighter. All creatures are mine first.”

“You didn’t even know about her.”

“Do you know how many creatures I oversee? Once in a great while, someone slips by me. This raven lass has done just that, but I must claim her now, before someone else does.”

Shawn held up his hand. “What does that mean? Who else would claim her?”

“That is not for you to worry about. That is a matter for the gods and goddesses.” Flidae stared at him now, her gaze powerful and unwavering. “Now move. It’s in everyone’s best interest that you trust me.”

“Trust you? What reason do I have to trust you? You’ve done nothing for me.”

“I let you live—let all of you wolves live—when ending you was what I was supposed to do. Your deaths were requested. I fought to find another punishment.”

Shawn felt as if someone had punched him in the gut and he was struggling for oxygen. The wolves Reardon made were supposed to be dead? Flidae had defended them? Banishment was a lesser punishment?

“What is she talking about, Shawn?” Jessica’s hand on his shoulder had him looking back at her.

“Let me claim her and you can tell her your story, wolf fighter.”

Hesitantly, Shawn moved out of the way, hating the wide-eyed, frightened expression on Jessica’s face. He took her hand. “I’m right here, Angel. Don’t be afraid.”

Flidae’s gaze shifted between them then she stepped closer to Jessica. “You’ve never seen a god or a goddess before, raven lass?”

Jessica shook her head.

“Good.” Flidae raised her arms out to her sides and said, “Creature of the sky, as you fly, know that you are connected to all living things, to me. I walk with you.”

Shawn let out a noise and Flidae shot him a glare, which made his face go back to neutral pretty damn fast. If the goddess hurt Jessica...he’d... he’d....protect her any way he could.

“I’ve never seen you this nervous, Shawn McMannus. Love has unleashed all sorts of emotions in you, hasn’t it? You’re halfway to your something worthy.”

With that, the goddess disappeared into her familiar white mist.

Shawn turned to face Jessica, his hands going to her shoulders. She was so pale. “Are you all right, Angel?”

Slowly, she nodded. “What did she mean about you being halfway to your something worthy?”

He tugged her into the living room and nudged her into a seat on the couch. “Time for my story.” He sat at the other end so he wouldn’t be tempted to touch her, to collect her into his lap, to soothe those worry lines out of her brow. “I wasn’t born a werewolf. I was a regular man. I was a soldier. In Ireland. In the past.”

The worry lines deepened and Jessica opened her mouth, but Shawn continued. “I’m not from your time, Jessica. Remember how I didn’t know what a microwave was? That wasn’t from a concussion. That was because I’d never seen a microwave—or any of the other countless inventions of this time. I come from a time of warriors. Warriors who were hired for their brutal killing skills. Kings paid us to slay their enemies and we did it. We did it well.”

“We?”

“Aye. Me. Kole. Jaemus. Others. Reardon led us. Reardon who was—is—a natural-born werewolf. He turned us when we finally met an enemy stronger than we were.”

“You were turned?” Jessica scooted closer to him. “Against your will?”

“Aye.”

“How could Reardon do that to you all? He had no right.” The color was returning to her cheeks and Shawn loved how she got mad on his behalf.

“He didn’t have a right, but at the same time, we probably would have all perished on that battlefield had he not done something.”

“So you’ve forgiven him?”

“Only recently, and I still have my moments where I get angry about it all over again. I’m learning to deal with it. Being turned into a wolf wasn’t the worst of it though. Flidae’s punishment was the worst. She was angry at Reardon for using us—wolves she considered hers—to kill.”

“So she banished you. To here?”

He nodded then watched as Jessica’s face went from disbelief to realization. Her hands went to her temples.

“The train tracks. She dumped you on the train tracks.” She clamped her hands over her mouth, horror filling her eyes. Then she pushed over to his cushion and threw her arms around him, wiggling onto his lap in the process.

Her warm tears dripped onto his neck and he rubbed his hands along her back. “It’s all right, Angel. You saved me.” He held her back to see her face. “I’m here because of you.” He kissed away her tears then squeezed her to his chest.

“All this time I’ve wondered how the hell you ended up on the tracks.”

“Never imagined it was because I’m a banished warrior werewolf from the past who angered the Celtic goddess of wild things?”

She laughed a little. “Never crossed my mind. No.” She hugged him again then slid off his lap to sit beside him. “What’s the something worthy part about?”

“If I want to get back to Ireland, I need to do something worthy.”

“Oh.” The simple word held loads of mixed emotions. “So you don’t want to stay here?”

He tipped her chin up, rubbing his thumb along her jaw. “I didn’t. Not at first. Not when my first introduction to this time was getting torn apart by a train. Not when I became a one-legged man and three-legged wolf. Not when I thought I’d never see Kole again. I missed Ireland. I missed being a warrior and fighting and the riches that came with that. I missed my brother and cousins.”

She blinked at him, and he could hear the wild thoughts bouncing around in her skull.

“But now, things are different.”

“They are?”

“Aye.” He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers. Gods, she tasted good. “Now there’s you. Where will I ever find a woman so uniquely perfect for me? Not back in my time. Not in Ireland. You’re here so I want to be here too.”

Jessica beamed a smile at him that could have melted glaciers. She reached for his laptop on the chest in front of the couch. After opening it, she chewed on her bottom lip as she tapped at the keyboard.

“What are you doing, Angel?”

“Canceling the equipment order.”

Great. She wasn’t going to stay. All this was too much for her. He was destined to be miserable.

“I’m going to drive back to Maine after sailing today and pack up all my shit. I’m moving in here with you and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”

Warmth spread through him. She wanted to stay. She wanted to be with him. “There is something I can do about it.” He tugged on her hair. “I can drive back to Maine with you and help you pack up all your shit twice as fast.”

“Deal.” She snapped the laptop shut and put it back on the chest. “We will, however, be ordering a new bed. Not only is yours uncomfortable, we also tore it up.”

“I’ll build you a nest.”

She punched his bicep. “I don’t think a wolf will be comfortable there, and I plan to have you in bed as much as possible.”

He pulled her into his lap again. “I like this plan.” He slid the strap of her sundress off her shoulder. Her bathing suit strap followed. His teeth grazed over her skin, nipping lightly as his hands found her breasts and kneaded them. Forget construction work. He wanted to make a career out of worshipping this magnificent woman-slash-raven that Fate had somehow put in his life.

Right when I needed her.

Standing, he hiked Jessica legs up around his waist and she clamped on. His mouth never left hers as he carried her down the hallway.

“Uncomfortable or not, I’m taking you to my bed, Angel.”

“Who needs comfort when riding a wave of ecstasy? Are all werewolves amazing lovers?”

A growl of jealousy rumbled out of him. “You’re not allowed to research that question.”

She chuckled, but he wasn’t kidding. Not even a little bit.

A ringing phone stopped them for a moment.

“Let the machine get it.”

Jessica grunted in reply as she feasted on his neck.

“Hey, Shawn and Jessica. Where are you guys? I called your cell phone a million times, Shawn.” Kole’s voice echoed through the machine. “We’re giving you fifteen minutes, then we ship off.”

“Ship off then,” Shawn growled.

Jessica loosened her leg grip around him and slid her legs down to stand in front of him. Her sundress and bathing suit straps were still hanging off her shoulder. Her hair was disheveled from his fingers raking up into it. And her lips... oh, gods, her lips were puffy and red from his kiss.

“I want to go sailing. I’ve never been.”

He touched his forehead to hers and sifted out a breath. “Sailing. Aye. Let’s go sailing.” Though he already had the port he wanted to anchor in.

Chapter Eight

Sunlight sparkled over Lake Champlain as Torrin’s boat cut across the water. The thirty-two-foot sailboat moved majestically, its sails full of summer wind and its captain navigating expertly.

“How long have you been sailing?” Jessica asked Torrin as she sat in one of the stern seats by the wheel, completely enjoying her first time out on the water.

“Since I was a boy,” Torrin said. “But this is the first sailboat I’ve actually owned.”

“See, we were a poor troupe of musicians,” Emma said as she passed out lemonade to everyone. “Then we came to Vermont and got discovered. Now Torrin thinks he’s a big time star.”

Torrin elbowed Emma as she squeezed by him to give a drink to Shawn. “What good is making decent change if you don’t spend it on things that make you happy?” He sent a look to the beautiful woman sitting on his right. He’d introduced her as Kari and clearly she was Torrin’s number one fan. Something told Jessica he’d spent some of his earnings on her.

“Well, I definitely think you guys are big stars. I love your music and this is a lovely boat. Thanks for letting Shawn and me join you today.” She sipped her lemonade and went back to soaking in the view.

With glances to the man beside her as well because that view was something to behold too.

After hearing Kole’s phone message, she and Shawn had wrapped up their fondling of one another with a quick, yet passionate round of kissing. Ten minutes later they were in her SUV, driving to the marina and preparing to board Torrin’s boat.

“We weren’t sure you were coming,” Kole had said as he’d shaken Shawn’s hand. “Something hold you up?” His grin said he’d known exactly what they’d been doing.

Jessica cheeks had flared and she’d huddled behind Shawn, making Emma laugh.

“No sense in hiding,” Shawn had said. “They can smell what we’ve been doing.”

Kole and Emma had become frozen on the dock, their eyes boring into Shawn’s then shifting to Jessica. Clearly they’d hoped she hadn’t heard what Shawn had said.

Shawn had reached back and positioned Jessica by his side, his arm going around her shoulders. “It’s okay. She’s like us.”

Emma had leaned closer. “She’s a werewolf?” She’d sniffed. “She doesn’t smell like one.”

“Wait, are you one?” Jessica had asked Emma. Shawn had said Kole was, but she hadn’t realized Emma was too.

Emma had looked back to Torrin and Kari who were already on board the boat and out of earshot. She nodded once.

“Jessica can shift like we do, but she isn’t a wolf,” Shawn had explained. When he’d looked down at her, genuine marvel over what she was filled his expression. She never thought anyone would ever look at her that way. “She’s a raven shifter. A beautiful one.”

“You can change into a bird?” Kole’s eyebrows had risen way up to his close-shaven haircut. “Like with wings? And flying?”

“Yeah. And I guess it isn’t as weird as I thought it was.”

“You have to see her.” Shawn had dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “She’s magnificent.”

“She must be,” Emma had said as she pulled Jessica into a hug. “You only genuinely smile when she’s around, Shawn.” In Jessica’s ear she’d whispered, “Welcome to the club, sister.”

And Jessica did feel welcome among these people. Welcome in a way she’d never felt anywhere before.

Kole had warned her not to say anything while they were sailing as Torrin and Kari didn’t know what they were and it needed to stay that way. Flidae didn’t like regular humans to know about shifters unless those regular humans were soul mates to a shifter or had some role to play involving shifters. They’d told her that Brandy was also a werewolf, turned by Reardon when they’d fallen for each other, and that Kole had accidentally turned Emma. Nika, however, hadn’t been changed yet. Jessica had also learned that little Kylie was a werewolf and that Dylan and Meredith knew about everyone.

“Keep it hidden from anyone else,” Kole had warned.

“No problem,” Jessica had said. “I’ve kept it hidden for most of my life.”

“Well, you needn’t hide with us,” Shawn had said.

Emma had squeezed Jessica’s hand. “After sailing, will you show us your raven form? I’m so curious. We can stop at Silver Moon. The sanctuary is a safe place for us.”

Jessica had glanced at Shawn, but he’d said, “Up to you, Angel. If you’re not comfortable—”

“I’d love to.” She had squeezed Emma’s hand back before releasing it.

Now, listening to water slap against the sides of the sailboat, Jessica looked forward to sharing what she was with these people. They would accept her, feathers and all. She could finally relax and be herself.

“I need a few days off,” Shawn said to Kole now.

“Why? Are you fighting again?” Kole’s blue eyes darkened. “We came up with a new plan.”

Shawn held up his hand. “Easy, brother. We did come up with a new plan. I’m not going to fight anymore. I want to work with you, Reardon, and Jaemus. In fact,” he winked at Jessica, “I have some money to contribute to starting Warrior Construction.”

“You do?” Kole leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees.

Shawn nodded then slid his hand to Jessica’s knee. “This wonderful woman here won’t let me pay her back for this.” He lifted his left leg.

“You are paying me back.” Jessica rested her hand atop his on her knee, that simple touch making her wish they were back at Shawn’s cabin, naked and making love. “You’re letting me move in with you.”

Emma shot to her feet. “You’re moving in with him!” She clasped her hands together and held them up to her cheek. “Oh, this is such sweet news!”

“Don’t mind her,” Torrin said. “Since she’s fallen in love with Kole, everything is romantic to her.”

“Shut it, Torrin.” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Yeah, shut it, Torrin,” Kari said. “You’ve got a fair amount of romance coursing in your veins too. I seem to recall waking this morning to breakfast in bed and then a shower that—”

“Okay, okay,” Torrin interrupted. “We can agree we’re all a little mushy currently.”

Kari wrapped her arms around Torrin from behind him and his smile deepened.

“I need a few days off to go to Maine with Jessica and help her pack up.” Shawn grasped Jessica’s hand and brought it up to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand, not appearing the least bit hesitant to show his affection for her in front of his family.

This is it. I’m finally going to be happy.

Coming to Vermont had been the best idea she’d ever had. Loneliness would be a thing of the past.

“By all means, take a few days.” Kole raised his lemonade glass in salute. “To Jessica and Shawn and love and all that touchy-feely stuff.”

“You’re a true poet, Beast.” Emma leaned her head on Kole’s shoulder as she clinked glasses with him.

“Yeah, can we use ‘all that touchy-feely stuff’ in our next song?” Torrin asked. “It’s brilliant. Such a wordsmith.”

Kole directed a middle finger at Torrin, making everyone laugh.

“Where’s Kylie today?” Jessica asked. She was curious about a child werewolf.

“She’s with Dylan,” Emma said. “Reardon and Brandy offered to take them horseback riding. Kids their age like to be constantly busy.”

“If they’re not, they get into trouble,” Kole mumbled. “Especially boys.”

Emma laughed. “Kole’s at that no-boy-should-be-trusted-around-our-daughter stage of fatherhood. But Dylan is a nice boy.”

And he was in the know about werewolves. Jessica wondered why Flidae allowed Dylan into the circle.

The boy is important, Flidae whispered in her head.

Kole, Emma, and Shawn all angled their heads as well, the goddess’s words no doubt reaching their ears too.

Can you hear me? Emma’s voice echoed in Jessica’s head.

Jessica met Emma’s gaze and nodded. I can. I guess wolves and ravens can talk.

We’re all connected, Kole said.

So be careful what you think. We don’t want Emma and Kole to know how sexy you think I am. Shawn grinned at her as Kole and Emma burst into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Torrin asked from the wheel.

“You are,” Emma said quickly. “We all just had the thought that you’re looking very Captain Jack Sparrow today.”

“That wouldn’t be a bad thing,” Kari said. “Captain Jack is hot.”

“I’ll second that,” Jessica said, raising her hand in agreement.

“Who is Captain Jack Sparrow?” Shawn looked as if he wanted to hunt Captain Jack down and beat the shit out of him. Which he probably could if Captain Jack were real.

“He’s a movie character,” Jessica said.

“Yeah, so relax Mr. McJealous,” Emma said. “You don’t have to go all warrior mode on us.” She winked at him.

“Once I’m all moved into your cabin—”

“Our cabin,” Shawn corrected, sending a flare of warmth through Jessica.

“Once I’m all moved into our cabin,” Jessica began, “we’ll have a Pirates of the Caribbean movie marathon.”

“Yeah,” Emma said. “So you can see your competition.”

Shawn growled at her, but Emma winked at him and collected their lemonade glasses.

“You guys want to moor in that cove over there?” Torrin pointed to the starboard side. “We can go swimming.”

Everyone agreed and Torrin sailed in that direction. Kari expertly leaned over at the bow and scooped up a moor line. The sailboat bobbed lazily around the mooring as everyone shed clothes, bathing suits at the ready.

“Can ravens swim?” Shawn whispered as he sat beside her on the deck by the mast. He’d removed the prosthesis and Jessica noted how he hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t been worried about what everyone would think about seeing him without his leg. Was it possible she gave him some strength? It was hard to imagine that a man of his size would need strength from anyone, but she’d love to be the someone to give it to him.

“Same idea as flying,” she said. “Think you’re fast enough to keep up?”

“Are you challenging me, Angel?”

“Absolutely.”

She stood, launched off the side of the boat, did a flip in the air, and arrowed into the water. Kicking her feet, she headed for the surface, but a flurry of movement and bubbles blocked her path. Strong arms came around her and together she and Shawn swam for the sunlight shimmering on the surface.

When they broke through, they treaded water, still in each other’s arms. Jessica reached her arms out of the water and pushed Shawn’s long brown hair out of his face. Water droplets beaded on his stubble and she had the sudden urge to lick those droplets.

“Don’t.” The word came out strained. “Don’t start something we can’t finish now, Angel.”

Her knee brushed up against an impressive erection and desire exploded inside her. Seeing that he was as turned on as she was gave her some comfort. Not as much comfort as being able to lick those droplets—and some other things—but there would be time for all that later. Later when they were snuggled together in their cabin.

“This isn’t a dream, is it?” Things this good rarely happened to her.

“A dream? If it is, we’re both having it.” He tightened his hold on her, his muscular chest feeling wonderful pressed against her breasts. Her nipples strained against the confines of her swimsuit and she wished they were the only two people in that cove.

“If it is a dream, I don’t want to ever wake up.” She closed the distance between them and planted her lips on his despite his warning not to start something.

He wasn’t objecting now. His lips softened under hers and when he opened to her probing tongue, she accepted her victory by giving him a kiss so passionate she was surprised the water around them didn’t start boiling.

“Definitely not a dream,” he rasped. “I don’t dream this vividly.”

He released her and swam around her like a shark. A sexy, werewolf shark and she was more than eager to be caught. Caught and never let go. Shawn was her soul mate and she planned on seeing what benefits being soul mates brought.

****

Everything Jessica did was damn sexy. Sipping lemonade. Stripping off her sundress. Standing in her swimsuit—a bikini that expertly showcased her curves. Launching off the side of the sailboat. Swimming to the surface. Treading water in his arms. Kissing him. Shawn had a feeling he could watch her do something as mundane as count grains of sand and he’d still be turned on by the sight of her. Would he now be in a constant state of arousal after she moved in with him?

Was that such a bad thing?

No. He had this coming to him. This happiness. From someone good and pure. Someone who could accept him—all of him. Knowing she was like him was an added bonus. When he’d found those feathers, he’d known they had something to do with Jessica. He didn’t know how he knew that, but it was true. Like the sky was blue. The grass was green.

Jessica Fairheart was his soul mate.

And he could finally accept that. Being a werewolf had seemed like a curse when he’d first become one. He’d been angry, disappointed, maybe a little afraid. To wake up and realize you were no longer a human was a shock to the system. The pack bond had helped the men Reardon had changed still follow his command and defeat the Spanish king’s enemies, but Flidae hadn’t allowed them to enjoy that victory. The goddess hadn’t let them figure out how their new lives—their new army—would work. The men had been scattered before any of them could come to terms with being beasts.

But, by some miracle, beasts could find love.

Love. He loved Jessica. He’d probably loved her back in Maine too, but he’d been too self-absorbed to realize it.

He realized it now.

Leaning in close, he sucked on her earlobe, loving the taste of her, of sunshine, of the water. Swimming with her in the lake was turning into a favorite activity. He loved that they had loads of time to find more favorite activities to do together. How had he gotten so lucky?

“I’m pruning.” Jessica held up her hand to show him her wrinkled fingertips. Her other hand was hooked around his neck as she held on to him.

He kissed the tip of her index finger. “Back to the boat then?”

She nodded. “Want to race?”

“So competitive. What do I win when I win?” He grinned when her mouth dropped open.

“So confident.” She pinched his bicep. “Let’s see. When I win, you have to drive us to Maine.”

“Deal. You’d better rest up, Angel, so you’ll be fresh for all that driving you’ll be doing later.” He splashed an armful of water at her and took off toward Torrin’s boat.

“Cheater!” she yelled.

He didn’t dare look back because she was a fast swimmer. Being down a leg slowed him a bit, but not enough for a victory to be out of the realm of possibility.

Using his arms to propel him forward, he cut—sloppily—through the water and slapped a palm to the boat’s hull at the same time Jessica did. Her dark eyes danced with amusement, her black hair plastered to her neck and shoulders. Gods, he could look at her forever and never get bored. He found something new to love about her face every time he was close to her.

Right now, a duo of freckles by her left ear had caught his attention. Water droplets magnified them and he couldn’t resist pressing his lips to them.

“A tie,” she said. “We didn’t plan for this outcome.” She climbed the swim ladder and the view of her firm ass had him instantly hardening.

He had to wait a minute before getting out of the water and Jessica’s smile told him she knew exactly why. Knew and was rather pleased with herself for having that effect on him. He joined her on the deck and accepted her help to balance. More accurately, he wanted his arms around her again.

“Vixen.”

She pointed at herself. “Little old me? A vixen?” Her eyebrow arched as her lips twitched up on one side.

“Aye, a vixen.” He kissed her wet nose then accepted her help to sit on the deck. He took the towel she handed him and dried off before reattaching his prosthesis.

Jessica squeezed water out of her long hair. “So what should we do about the tie? Odds or evens?”

“Odds or evens? What does that mean?”

“Oh. It’s a way to decide something. One person picks odds, the other evens. On a three-count, both people hold out one or two fingers. If the total number of fingers out is odd, the odds player wins. If the total is even, the evens player wins. Usually you play best of three rounds.”

“That’s silly. Warriors would fight to the death to decide.” He laughed when her eyes bugged.

“You would easily win that fight and then you’d be without me, so would it really be considered a win?” She sat beside him and leaned against his side. He loved having her there.

“Not a win at all. Odds and evens it is then. I’ll take odds.”

He followed her lead, making a fist, shaking it, then revealing two fingers when she counted to three. She held out one finger then pouted over his win.

“Two more times,” she said.

Jessica won the next round, but then he took it home with another odds win.

“Guess I’m driving.” She shrugged. “That’s okay. Guess who will be carrying all the heavy boxes to the car?”

“I’ll carry hundreds of heavy boxes if it means I get to have you here with me.”

Her gaze went soft. “You were worth the wait, Shawn McMannus.”

“Thanks for being patient.” He pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers. “No more wasting time.”

They kissed until a shadow fell over them. Jessica pulled away first and when Shawn looked up, his brother was standing there.

“Can we help you with something?” Shawn asked, wanting nothing more than for Kole to scram so more kissing could happen.

“Kari and Emma have some lunch ready. You know, if you two are done feasting on each other’s faces.” He smirked then walked back to the stern, not waiting for an answer.

“I’m hungry,” Jessica said. “But something tells me whatever food they have isn’t going to satisfy me.”

“I’ll bet I have something that would satisfy you.” He nipped at her shoulder.

“No doubt, but you’ll have to hold that thought until we’re alone.” She got to her feet and gently pulled him to his, waiting a moment before leading him toward the back of the boat.

“We’ll have plenty of time to ourselves. You’ll get sick of me,” he said.

She sat and made room for him next to her. “I’ll never get sick of you.”

But we’ll get sick of you two talking about not getting sick of each other if you don’t start blocking your thoughts to the rest of us, Kole said in his head.

Jessica heard him too because she chuckled quietly, her cheeks flushing.

Bite me, Shawn said back, making Emma snicker as she handed out plates.

Boys, boys, Emma said. Let’s be nice.

He started it. Shawn wagged a finger at Kole. He was glad he’d had the good sense to get over his anger at his brother. When Kole had first found him, Shawn hadn’t been in a forgiving mood. Luckily, that pack bond had been too hard to ignore.

He had his brother back.

He had his woman back.

He had his life back.

If he could manage it, he’d never lose any of those things again.

After sandwiches and more bullshitting together, Torrin successfully captained them all back to the dock. Shawn drove Jessica’s SUV to Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary. Emma and Kole had beaten them there because Shawn had to pull over twice to kiss Jessica. He couldn’t seem to keep his lips off her.

Brandy and Reardon greeted them with Dylan and Kylie and a group of sanctuary wolves. A few moments later, Nika and Jaemus arrived because Shawn had called them from the road.

“Good news,” Kole announced as he swept Kylie up and spun her around.

“I like good news,” Brandy said. “Let’s have it.”

Kole put Kylie down and glanced at Shawn who looked to Jessica.

“Maybe it’s better if we show all of you,” she said, a playful arch to her eyebrow.

At Shawn’s nod, Jessica spread out her arms. In a flurry of black feathers, she shifted and flew over them all.

“Wow!” Dylan shouted. “She’s a bird!”

“A giant one!” Kylie squealed. “So cool!”

“How? I didn’t know this was possible.” Reardon tracked Jessica’s zigzagging paths in the sky. Enough light remained, the getting-ready-to-set sunshine giving Jessica’s feathers a purplish hue. She nosedived down, spiraling on the way and making Dylan and Kylie cheer.

“She’s a natural-born raven shifter,” Shawn said to an open-mouthed Reardon and Brandy.

“Amazing,” Nika whispered.

Jaemus nodded. “The world is filled with surprising things.”

“Has Flidae seen this?” Reardon asked, tearing his gaze off Jessica who was currently soaring so high she was a mere speck in the sky.

“Aye,” Shawn said. “She came to claim her.” He stepped closer to Reardon. “She did say she needed to claim Jessica before someone else did. Do you know what that’s about?”

Reardon shook his head. “I wasn’t aware of any competing forces among the gods and goddesses for dominion over wild things, but I suppose it happens.”

Not if I can help it, Flidae said. She was gone before they could ask any questions. Typical.

“Flidae also said our banishment was an alternative punishment,” Shawn said. “Our deaths were supposed to be the punishment instead.”

“So banishment means we got lucky?” Kole asked.

“As strange as that sounds, aye.” Shawn shrugged and turned his attention back to Jessica.

She rocketed down to them and landed on the entrance gate. The wolves surrounded her, a few of them barking at her, their tales whipping back and forth playfully.

Kole, Emma, and Brandy clapped as if they’d watched a performance, and Jessica leaned forward, her raven form doing a bow on the top rail of the gate.

“I think it’s time for the rest of us to join her,” Brandy said. “It’s a great night for a run.”

“Aye. A great suggestion, fairy lass.” Reardon shed his shirt then turned to Dylan. “Go tell Meredith we’re running. We’ll be back shortly.”

Reluctantly, the boy threw another glance to Jessica, his shoulders slumping slightly, then ran off back to the house.

“I wish he could come with us,” Kylie said.

“That’s not his role to play,” Brandy said. “Not sure what his role is supposed to be. Just hope it’s nothing dangerous.” She bent over to untie her work boots.

“I’ll go see if he wants to play a game with me or something.” Nika pressed a kiss to Jaemus’s cheek then headed for Brandy and Reardon’s cabin.

Brandy, Reardon, Jaemus, Kylie, Emma, and Kole all shifted at once and that connection to the pack flared stronger inside Shawn. He leaned against a nearby tree and removed his leg, wishing he didn’t have to do so. He could keep up fine, but he wasn’t as lithe as the rest of them. He certainly wasn’t as graceful as Jessica. She was poetry in motion.

Except when it’s windy, Jessica joked.

Shawn laughed as he shifted and soon they were all running—or flying—through the sanctuary woods. Though he’d done this many times since coming to live in Canville, tonight felt different. Not only did he feel the bond to the pack, he now felt the connection to his soul mate too. It settled him like nothing ever had.

Soul mates create balance. Flidae’s voice sounded... lonely. Did goddesses get lonely? Did goddesses love?

He pushed these unanswerable questions out of his mind for now and tracked Jessica as he ran behind Kole and the others. When they’d all decided they’d had enough, they reversed course and gathered back in the driveway in front of Brandy’s cabin. Each of them grabbed their shed clothes in their jaws and found a shadowy area to shift back and dress. Brandy ran inside and grabbed a T-shirt and shorts for Jessica to borrow. Her clothes had ripped in her big raven reveal.

With thank yous and promises to drive safely, Shawn and Jessica started for Maine, neither of them wanting to lose time stopping back at Shawn’s cabin to pack anything.

“The sooner we get my junk, the sooner we can be officially living together,” Jessica said from the driver’s seat.

“I’ll second that bit of logic.” He was having a hard time staying on the passenger side when every instinct inside of him roared to be closer to her.

“Easy there, wolf. I can actually hear how much you want to get naked.” Jessica reached over the center console to grab Shawn’s hand.

He immediately turned his hand over to clasp hers. Her smooth Navajo skin was darker than his fair Irish skin and he loved the look of her slender fingers nestled between his.

“Me too,” she said, replying to his unspoken thoughts. “You make me feel safe.”

“The warrior in me wants to keep you safe. Always.” He kissed her hand then released it so she could put it back on the wheel.

A thought whispered from Jessica, but he didn’t catch it. He was about to ask what she’d been thinking, but she turned up the radio and started singing along. Her melodic voice brought back the time he’d been recovering in her care. Nights had been rough for him. He’d been plagued by dreams. Ones that mixed being turned into a werewolf and being ripped apart on the train tracks. Each nightmare had gotten more gory than the one before it and he’d become exhausted.

Every time he’d awakened in a panic, however, Jessica’s compassionate face had greeted him. She’d whispered words of comfort then sang to him. Sometimes she sang along with a radio she’d turned on by the bedside. Other times she’d sung songs from her Navajo ancestors. Songs praising nature and the spirits. He’d liked those best. They’d spoken to him on a level that had calmed him enough to sleep through the night.

Unfortunately, he’d needed those songs almost every night, but again, Jessica was patient and kind. An angel in every sense of the word.

Hearing her now, singing something about being wanted dead or alive, made him laugh. She was wanted all right. Wanted by him.

And I actually have her.

That was the crazy part. Shawn McMannus. Former Celtic warrior. Werewolf. Time traveler. A part man-part beast with missing parts. Yet, Jessica had always looked at him as if she saw something worthwhile. She saw the best in him and that spelled redemption.

Chapter Nine

Usually the sight of her snug little home brought Jessica comfort. It was her refuge—the place she’d gone to disappear. It had hidden her well and she had fond memories of being with Shawn for the first time there.

Now the small house felt... empty. Shawn’s cabin in Vermont was where Jessica was meant to be. She had no doubts at all about moving in with him. Soul mates needed to be with each other every day. She couldn’t imagine being apart from him for more than a few hours at a time.

“Let’s do this.” Shawn hugged her from behind as they stood in her tiny living room. “We can pack up a few rooms tonight. Finish the rest tomorrow. Be back on the road by tomorrow night.”

“My neighbor, Jen, is a realtor,” Jessica said as she turned in Shawn’s hold. “I’ll give her a call and put this place up for sale.”

He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “And then you’ll be stuck with me.”

“Which is exactly what I want.” She slid her arms up to his shoulders and pulled him in for a real kiss—one that instantly turned wild.

“Maybe we can start packing tomorrow?” Shawn grabbed the end of her hair and wound a lock around his hand. “I think we can spend tonight doing something a bit more fun.”

“You want to play checkers?”

“Not exactly the fun I had in mind, Angel.” He shook her gently in his arms.

“Strip poker?”

His raspy laugh vibrated inside her, making desire explode in all her parts. “Now you’re on the right track.” He feasted on her mouth, and Jessica’s knees actually grew weak. “Maybe we could skip the poker part though.”

“Agreed.”

Within seconds, they both had all their clothes off. Shawn backed her up against the living room wall and pressed his erection against her.

“See what you do to me? That’s all for you.” He ran his lips along her neck, his stubble scraping delightfully against her skin.

Jessica’s body was hyper-sensitive to Shawn’s touch. His rough palms cupped her breasts, kneading gently as he kissed her neck. Her core grew instantly hot and wet and ready.

Sliding her hands down his chest, she quivered with need when he tightened his abs and nipped her earlobe. She curled her fingers around his arousal and he let out a growl that she now understood was not entirely human. She was surprised by how sexy that knowledge was to her. Maybe if she were a regular human, she’d have the sense to be afraid of a real, live werewolf. Especially one that appeared ready to tear into her right now.

I’d never hurt you, Shawn’s voice echoed in her head.

I know. And she did. Knew it with every part of her. He’d said he’d keep her safe always, and she believed him wholeheartedly.

Shawn shifted his weight from his right leg to his left and then back again. Here she was all caught up in the sensations he was causing to ripple through her body and the poor guy was just trying to keep his balance on his good leg.

“Couch.” The word was a breathy whisper, but he heard her because he backed them up, his lips never leaving hers.

She nudged him to sit on the couch then straddled his lap. His hands automatically slid around her waist then up to her back where he massaged her shoulder blades. When he traveled back down and cupped her ass, she scooted closer, her core pressing against that impressive erection.

“Let me in, Angel.”

Without a word, she parted her legs and sank down on him. Slowly. Tortuously. Each inch she took in made them both moan. She wished she could get closer to Shawn, but she’d have to settle for amazing lovemaking instead.

Amazing? Shawn’s thoughts had an amused edge to them.

As if you don’t know how good you are at this, she thought back.

Only with you, Angel. Only with you. We’re good at this together.

Jessica was careful not to think about her previous experiences with men. She didn’t want to ruin the moment. Shawn was so different than anyone else she’d been with. Yes, he could be difficult and moody and he had left her once, but the connection this time was so deep—soul mate deep. She couldn’t imagine anything better than the way she felt right now, surrounding him, pleasuring him, loving him.

Shawn began pumping into her, a perfect rhythm unfolding between them as they rode waves of passion. He’d had his eyes closed, but when he opened them, they were full on glowing. The bright gray-blue she was used to had changed to something resembling headlights cutting through an inky night. The light had a bluish tint, sharp and electric. Intense.

“What’s the matter?” he asked, blinking those glowing eyes at her.

“Nothing.” She cupped his cheeks. “Your eyes are all lit up. They’re stunning.”

He made a move to drop his gaze, but she stopped him with a finger to his chin.

“Why didn’t I see them glowing that brightly before?” She’d thought they’d been almost glowing a few times before, but never like this.

Shawn shrugged one shoulder. “Maybe because I was an ass before.”

She was about to answer, but he shifted a bit and rubbed all the right spots inside her. The orgasm that crashed over her made reason and comprehensible speech impossible. In that moment, there was only this incredible man making love to her. Making her feel as if she was something so precious to him.

Because you are, he thought.

Right back at you. She rode the high and after he found his release, she slid bonelessly to his side, taking him down with her until he spooned her on the couch.

“You probably didn’t see my eyes glow before because I was denying the soul mate bond between us,” he said. “Honestly, I didn’t know what it was. I felt something for you. Something powerful, but none of us that Reardon turned had enough time with him to get the details involved in this werewolf thing before we were banished and scattered. I only learned of the soul mate bond after Kole found me and I saw what he had with Emma, what Jaemus and Nika have, and Brandy and Reardon.”

She nestled closer to him. “And now we have it too.”

“Aye. And I’ll do anything to keep it.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head and tightened his hold around her. “No more stupid moves on my part. You most definitely deserve better than me, but if you’re willing to settle, I’m going to let you settle.”

“I’m not settling, Shawn. You’re perfect for me.” Jessica reached back and grabbed the Navajo print quilt she had on the couch. She arranged it over them and cuddled deeper, allowing sleep to overtake her.

When she awoke on a gasp, Shawn was right there with her.

“What happened?” His breath was warm against her bare shoulder. He pressed a kiss there. “Were you dreaming?”

Jessica sat up, disoriented by what must have indeed been a dream. Not a pleasant one either.

Flying. She remembered flying faster than she’d ever flown, the world zipping by in a swirl of unidentifiable colors. Free. She’d felt free. At first. Then she’d had trouble breathing, as if someone had grabbed her around the neck and was cutting off her oxygen supply. The next thing she’d known, she’d shifted from raven to human while still in the air.

She hadn’t stayed in the air for long.

The fall had been brutal. Tree branches had gouged her skin. Blood had poured. She’d smacked the ground hard enough to leave an indentation. Bones had snapped. She’d taken her last breath lying in a crumpled heap on the rocky, tree-rooted forest floor.

Running her hands over her arms and body now, she couldn’t find any evidence of the dream being anything more than a dream.

“Gods be damned,” Shawn said, sitting up beside her. “That was awful.”

She turned to look at him. “You saw my dream?”

He nodded. “As you remembered it, the dream played like a movie in my mind.”

Jessica rubbed her eyes and shook her head. “Good thing it was only a dream.”

Shawn pulled her into a hug, dropping light kisses on the top of her head. “Aye. I’ve got you, Angel.”

She breathed him in, his scent soothing her a bit. She closed her eyes, but as she did so, a voice whispered in her head.

You belong to me, raven.

The voice was not Shawn’s or Flidae’s. It was deep, rumbling. Powerful. It made her whole body shiver.

“Did you hear that?” She pulled back to look up at Shawn.

“Hear what?” His brows drew together as he stared at her.

Her stomach did a sick flop. “There was a voice.”

“Flidae’s?”

“No. A male voice, I think. Low and gritty. It said, ‘You belong to me, raven.’” She scrubbed her hands down her face. “I don’t know. Maybe I imagined it. Maybe it’s from the dream.” Shrugging, she sagged against Shawn. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Maybe it’s one of the gods. Flidae mentioned others wanted to claim you.” Shawn followed her to the bedroom.

“But she claimed me already. Shouldn’t any other gods or goddesses back off now?”

“In theory, but I’ve found working with gods or goddesses never goes according to plan, but we’re a team now, Angel. No one else is going to claim you.”

They both got into Jessica’s bed and Shawn neatened the blankets over them. He slid his arm across Jessica’s stomach and tucked her in by his side, pecking her cheek.

“Good night, Angel.”

She yawned once. “Good night.”

Jessica closed her eyes, but even in the safety of Shawn’s strong arms, she didn’t fall asleep for a long time. Who else would want to claim her? Why did anyone have to claim her at all? She wasn’t an ancient Celtic warrior. Ireland wasn’t her homeland. There wasn’t a single piece of her that was Irish.

Her Native American roots connected her to nature, but did she need to be claimed by the goddess of wild things? Did her Navajo ancestors have an equivalent to Flidae? Someone who would be able to give her some answers about how she came to be a raven shifter or tell her if anyone else on her family tree could live in an actual tree. What was she supposed to do with her... ability?

With her mind going in circles, she finally gave up on sleeping at about four in the morning. She slipped quietly out of bed, careful not to disturb Shawn who was on his stomach, his toned back visible, calling out to be massaged. Jessica refrained though. There would be plenty of time to touch him when she was all moved in back at his cabin in Vermont.

On bare feet, she padded out to the kitchen and made some coffee. After a few sips from her favorite Snoopy mug, she went into the garage and found several empty storage tubs. She dragged them into the house and set about filling them with anything she wanted to take with her. The rest she’d sell with the house. She wasn’t sentimental about much. Not when she’d already left a home once before. She’d packed light that time. Super light. And she’d built a new life here in Maine, but not one in which she’d accumulated... stuff.

Her most valuable possessions were out in her studio. She’d take all that with her. That equipment had been an investment. One that had paid off in a big way for her. It’d funded her new life.

This time, her new beginning would run on love.

“Hey.”

She jumped at Shawn’s voice and whirled around to face him. “I’m sorry. Did I make too much noise?”

He walked deeper into the kitchen, wearing nothing but his boxer shorts. The heel of his prosthetic leg tapped against the tile floor as he made his way over to her. He leaned against the counter, but pulled her into an embrace.

“I knew the minute you left the bed.”

“Oh. I couldn’t sleep.” She gestured to the kitchen behind her. “Figured I’d get started on packing.”

“Eager to be a Vermont resident?”

“Eager to be your roommate.” She rose to her tiptoes and caught those magnificent lips of his in a heated kiss as his warm palms skimmed over her arms.

“Let’s get these tubs loaded then.”

“You don’t have to stay up. Go back to bed.”

Shawn opened the pantry closet. “I’m not tired. I’m too excited about having you all to myself again. And this time, I promise to be in a good mood all the time. I’m in a better place.” He looked over his shoulder at her. “I’m ready to love you.”

She paused with the copper pot she had in her hands. “You want to love me?” Was that what he was saying? Had she finally found the love she’d been looking for?

His gray-blue eyes softened as he looked at her. “I don’t want to love you.”

Her heart went still in her chest.

In two steps, he was in front of her. “I do love you, Angel. So much.”

And there was her heartbeat again. “I love you too, Shawn.”

Human attachments won’t mean anything when you are mine.

Jessica chose to ignore that voice and accept Shawn’s kiss instead. He loved her. Maybe that would be enough.

****

She was kissing him back after they’d thrown the love word out there, but her lips stiffened for the briefest of moments as he kissed her. Did she have reservations? Did she doubt how much he loved her?

I did leave her once. He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t exactly trust his words. He’d have to show her that he loved her with his actions instead. Show her as many times as it took to convince her that what he felt for her was genuine, deep, and eternal.

Aye, he wanted forever with Jessica.

They worked in companionable silence to pack up the kitchen and moved on to the living and dining rooms. He was surprised by how much Jessica was willing to leave behind. She’d mumbled something about not needing a lot of it, which he supposed was true. He had most of the basics back at his cabin. Who needed two toasters?

“Let’s hit my studio next,” Jessica said as she snapped the lid closed on the bin she’d filled.

“Whatever the lady wants.” Shawn bowed then hefted the bin he’d been filling. He lowered it slowly and set it on the floor by the front door. “Lead the way.”

“My equipment isn’t going to fit in a storage bin,” she said after they entered her studio.

“Can you take only what you need to fill your current orders? We can come back for the rest of it another day.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She spent the next two hours bustling around the studio, mumbling to herself and occasionally ordering him around. He didn’t mind because each piece of equipment, each supply he loaded into her SUV got them a step closer to living together. The way they were meant to.

How he wished his pride—and stupidity—hadn’t caused him to waste time he could have been enjoying with Jessica. Better to have learned from his mistakes, he supposed.

“I’m not sure what to do with these items.” She waved a hand at several shelves filled with beautiful dishes, mugs, vases, and other creations.

“They aren’t promised to anyone?” He picked up a mug, testing its sturdy weight and wishing it were filled with something laced with brandy perhaps.

She shook her head. “These are things I made for the hell of it or to test out an idea. They’re good enough to sell though.” She flipped through some papers on the small desk she had in the studio.

Shawn remembered her sitting at that desk when he’d been recovering. She’d force him to follow her into the studio so he wouldn’t be lonely, but he knew that wasn’t the real reason. She’d suspected he might try to end himself if she left him alone. She hadn’t been wrong. He’d considered it, not even sure if a werewolf could do such a thing. He had the ability to heal—except in the case of losing a limb—so what would it require to take his own life?

Fortunately, he hadn’t investigated that route more than merely thinking about it. Then he’d left Jessica and taken his misery away from her so she could find happiness without him.

Lucky for him she hadn’t found that happiness without him.

I can only be happy with you, Shawn, she thought now as she faced him with a paper in her hand.

He immediately collected her into a hug, wrapping himself around her like a coat. “I promise you’ll only be happy with me.” After kissing her cheek, he turned his attention to the paper she held. “What’s this?”

She held it up to him. “I remembered one of my customers, Deborah, giving me an invitation to an art festival here in Maine. It’s tomorrow. Anyone can show up and sell their shit. Like a farmer’s market type thing. We could stay an extra day, possibly get rid of some of these things, then head back to Vermont. What do you think?

“It would certainly be easier to cart cash back instead of these fragile pieces. Let’s do it.” Though he didn’t want to delay getting her back to his cabin. “Hopefully we can sell everything by noon and get a move on.”

“Too bad we can’t fly.” She elbowed him and winked.

“Or run. We need to devise a good method of carrying stuff in our animal forms.” He patted his thigh then swiveled a bit. “Like prosthetic legs for example. I’ve got wolf teeth marks on the back of this one.”

Jessica bent to inspect where he’d pointed. “Hmm. After the construction company is established, we should save up for a new one. They’ve made some advances since we got that one.”

That was true. And he had done some research. For someday. When he had money. Maybe that day wasn’t so far away anymore. Between his new construction job and Jessica’s business, their financials might be enough to make some... enhancements. One advantage to being stuck in the future was access to medical care he’d never have in his Ireland. There he’d be useless. No one would want a one-legged warrior.

“Okay, let me call my customer and see if we can still have a table.” She squeezed by him, digging her cell phone out of the back pocket of her denim shorts that had been driving him wild all morning. Every time she bent down or reached high to get something, blood rushed to one part of his body. Her legs went on for miles and her tank top had this lovely habit of riding up slightly to reveal her toned stomach. She was a feast for his eyes.

And he was hungry.

Jessica smirked over her shoulder at him. “You want some lunch?”

He growled at her. “You know I’m not that kind of hungry right now.”

She giggled and jogged out of the studio, and as he watched her go, he almost couldn’t stop himself from going after her.

They spent the rest of the day packing until only some essentials and furniture remained. Jessica had decided to leave the furniture behind and add it to the sale of her house.

“I plan to use you as a couch,” she’d said with a grin.

“You can drape your gorgeous body over mine any time, Angel.”

When the last of the boxes and storage bins were loaded into the SUV and her realtor neighbor had agreed to handle the sale of the house, Jessica had made sandwiches for dinner. They’d had each other for dessert and fallen asleep in each other’s arms.

In the warm early morning sunshine now, Shawn stood behind Jessica as she made conversation with art festival attendees and sold her pieces. His noon deadline looked completely doable if the traffic kept up like it had so far. The table in front of them would be empty soon.

“Yes, they are one hundred percent microwave and dishwasher safe.” Jessica held up a dark green plate with a silhouetted deer and evergreen tree in the middle of it.

“Perfect,” the customer said. “I’ll take the whole set.”

Jessica raised a quick eyebrow at him as she turned to get tissue paper and a box from behind the table. If we get more buyers like this, we’ll be in Vermont by tonight!

I can’t wait.

She took a second to squeeze his forearm as she turned back to her customer and that normal, everyday touch made him want her naked and underneath him.

Don’t get distracted, Flidae said.

Distracted? He’d never been more focused on what he wanted. And distracted from what exactly? Why did he feel as if he should be looking out for something?

He scanned the crowd around them. Everything appeared fairly mundane. Shoppers shopping. Sellers selling. Friends chatting. Nothing about the setting felt ominous. Quite the opposite actually yet Flidae’s voice had been filled with caution.

“Caution about what?” Jessica was standing in front of him now having finished with her customer.

“I’m not sure.” He looked around once more before settling his gaze on her.

“This other voice in my head isn’t cautioning me,” she said.

“What’s it doing?”

“Threatening me.” A shiver rippled through her and he rubbed his hands up and down her bare arms.

“Stay close to me.” The warrior that lived inside him was always ready. So was the werewolf.

She leaned against him. “I plan to.”

He dropped a kiss on her nose then motioned behind her where another customer waited to speak to her. As she told that customer about the pieces she still had for sale, he went back to scanning the area. Flidae had claimed Jessica as she’d claimed him, but who was this other voice his angel was hearing? Who wanted her?

And why was she wanted?

Jessica was special, but why would a god be willing to go against Flidae to have a raven shifter? Shawn had seen firsthand what the goddess of wild things was capable of doing. She could be ruthless. Reardon, Jaemus, and Kole had fared pretty well after being dropped in this time, but he had experienced brutal pain. Pain that would have killed him if Jessica hadn’t demanded that train stop and check the tracks.

Flidae had the power to punish, to kill. What could the god whispering in Jessica’s head do?

He prayed they never found out.

Taking Jessica back to Vermont would ease his mind some. There he could watch over her, constantly if necessary. He’d almost lost her once because of his own idiocy. He wouldn’t lose her to anything else. Flidae warned him not to get distracted and he wouldn’t. He’d be on guard. He’d stay vigilant. He’d make sure his angel was protected. Too bad Flidae hadn’t banished the warriors with their broad swords.

Jessica glanced over her shoulder at him as she accepted payment for a vase. Broad swords? A bit much, no?

Who was he to say what was a bit much when it came to keeping her safe?

By eleven o’clock, Jessica had sold everything she’d brought to the festival. They thanked her friend for allowing them to have a table and walked, hand in hand, back to her SUV.

She patted her purse. “Made a good chunk of change on that stuff. I think that’s the best I’ve ever done at one of those festivals.”

“You’ve been before?”

“Yeah. Every now and again, I do them. Helps pick up new customers. Sometimes. Other times, it’s a total waste of a day.”

“Glad today wasn’t.”

“Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Having a hunk like you standing behind the table with me is good for business.”

He shook his head. “Nothing to do with me, Angel. It’s your talent with clay that people like.”

“Maybe, but more than one female customer asked me who you were.”

He’d been too busy surveying the surroundings to notice that people were talking about him. “What did you tell them?”

“Said I was thinking about breaking into the statue market. You were my first experiment.”

He chuckled. “Does that mean you plan to sculpt more until you get it right?”

She tugged on his arm so he would stop walking. “Nope. I got it right the very first time.”

“Time for some glasses perhaps?” He tapped lightly on her nose.

She shook her head. “I’m seeing clearly. And I love what I see.”

He had no choice but to ravage her mouth right then and there. Gods be damned, he didn’t care who witnessed their public display of affection. He loved this woman and he’d kiss her whenever he pleased.

Jessica was apparently of the same mind because she sunk into him, her hands going up to cup his face as her tongue tangled with his. The world faded away when she was in his arms. If he’d met her back in Ireland, what direction would his life had taken? Would he have left Reardon’s army before becoming a werewolf? Would he have used his riches to buy her a castle? Would Jessica have given him children?

She ripped her mouth from his. “Children?”

Damn that soul mate bond. It was hard locking down thoughts.

He supposed now was as good a time as any to discuss this. He was asking her to leave her life here in Maine to start a new one with him in Vermont. Her feelings on this topic might change everything.

“You want children?” she asked.

“Aye.”

“Do you think we can have them? I mean, we’re not regular humans.”

“As far as I know, werewolves are capable of having children. Normal ones. Why shouldn’t raven shifters be able to do the same?”

“Do you think any children we have would be... okay?”

“I think any child who has some of you in them would be outstanding, Angel. Outstanding.”

The biggest smile bloomed on her face and it warmed him more than the summer sun above them.

“I want a family, Shawn. I want a family with you.”

“We should get to work on that then.”

Desire swirled in her beautiful eyes, making him instantly hard.

“Let’s get this road trip over with as quickly as possible.” She led him to the SUV, but skidded to a stop. “Oops. I forgot the boxes I left under the table. We can use them to pack up the final items from the house. I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll go with you.” He took a step then winced.

“No. You stay here. You’ve been standing too long on your leg as it is. It’ll only take me a minute. Start up the car so we can jet.” She bounded off before he could protest.

He pulled out his cell phone to call Kole and tell him they were on their way back. While he waited for his brother to pick up, Shawn climbed into the SUV. The moment Jessica sat in the passenger seat, he was driving them to the rest of their lives together.

Chapter Ten

Jessica hurried back to the table and bent to retrieve the boxes she’d left there. Before she could back up and straighten, a body pressed against her from behind.

“I told you to wait at the car.” She laughed. “Impatient much?”

“On the contrary. I think I’ve been very patient, Jessica.”

She sniffed the air. That definitely wasn’t Shawn’s scent filling her nostrils. She froze, the box in her hand dropping to the ground.

“I’ve been searching for you, Jessica.”

“Brandon?”

“Been watching you all day, waiting for that mountain of a man to leave your side. Who is he?” An arm snaked around her waist and tugged her out from under the table. “You’re still mine, wife, so who is he?”

Jessica cringed over Brandon’s proximity. His body was pressed up against her back and he was apparently still turned on by her. Her body, however, was anything but aroused. Terrified was more like it. Why hadn’t she let Shawn come back with her? After Flidae’s warnings and the threatening voice in her head, she had to be an idiot to leave her warrior’s side.

Shawn? What was the range on the soul mate telepathy anyway? Was the parking lot too far away to call to him? It shouldn’t have been. She had felt connected to Shawn even when they were in different states.

She tried reaching out to him again, but she only felt Brandon’s tightening grip around her waist and his breath on the back of her neck.

“I asked you a question, Jessica. I want an answer. Who the fuck is he?” Brandon gave one sharp squeeze and her ribs protested. She’d gotten used to not having bruises on her body. She couldn’t go through this again.

“He’s a friend of mine,” she managed, though Brandon’s hold made it difficult to speak.

“Lying bitch,” he whispered in her ear. “I saw you two hugging and kissing. He’s more than a friend. He doesn’t have a right to you. You belong to me, raven.”

Raven? Brandon didn’t know what she was. And why would he say exactly what that voice in her head had said?

Slowly, she turned her head to look over her shoulder at Brandon. She choked back a scream when she met his gaze. His usually brown eyes were blazing red and when he licked his lips, his tongue was forked. She blinked and everything about Brandon went back to normal, but her senses knew none of this was right.

“You’re not Brandon.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a squeak, and her heart threatened to tear right through her chest.

No, the voice from earlier said in her head. Brandon was kind enough to offer me his image.

Offer? Why did the telepathy work with... with... whoever this was and not Shawn?

Your precious wolf has been blocked. One of my many, many skills, raven.

Who are you?

Brandon’s form spun her around to face him and as painful as it was to look at his face, it was worse knowing that this wasn’t Brandon at all.

It was something far more terrible.

“My name is Baglor, Celtic god of dead souls. Ravens are mine. Flidae knows this.” His eyes faded to brown and scanned the crowd.

Jessica threw a glance to the shoppers as well. Did she want them to notice what was happening? Was it safer if they didn’t? “There are more ravens?”

“Aye, and all of them serve me.”

Jessica did not want to serve him. There wasn’t a feather in her wings that wanted to belong to this Baglor.

Not your choice, raven. Not Flidae’s choice either. She cannot stop me from having you.

“Now, let’s stroll this way.” Baglor, in Brandon’s body, prodded her into a walk away from the parking lot. Away from Shawn. Away from that life she had been about to start.

So close.

As long as she was walking away, however, she was possibly keeping this god from harming Shawn. So she allowed Baglor to usher her across the field, by the other vendors, through groups of shoppers, and out of the festival completely. He edged her toward the woods bordering the festival grounds then pushed her into the cover of the trees.

She stumbled forward, rocks and sticks digging into her palms when she tried to catch herself. The smell of her own blood zipped her back to when she was with Brandon. His fists had caused her to lose more blood than she cared to remember.

Enough of this shit. They were far enough away from the festival now. She could get herself out of this. She got to her feet and spread her arms out. Picturing her raven form, she waited for the feathers to appear.

They didn’t.

Baglor laughed, the sound low and haunting as his eyes flared red again. “Now maybe you understand the scope of my power, raven. You don’t change unless I let you change.”

All those years she’d spent wishing she were normal and now when she needed to be extraordinary, she couldn’t be. What was up with The Universe anyway? Why let her come to terms with what she was? Why show her the kind of happiness she could have with Shawn only to take it away?

Baglor’s red eyes faded and Brandon’s brown ones blinked at her. “Because happiness isn’t for you, Jessica. You must know this by now. Everything takes a dark turn where you’re concerned.”

Unfortunately, that was true. But it had felt different with Shawn. As if anything were possible. As if happily ever after was possible.

“What do you want me for?” She wasn’t sure which was scarier—Baglor’s red-eyed presence or Brandon’s form. Both made her want to fly out of there.

“But you can’t fly out of here. You’re stuck.” Baglor gestured back to the festival grounds. “Unless that wolf of yours decides to come after you.” He clapped his hands. “That would be delightful. I’d love to sink my teeth into one of Flidae’s wolves. Perfect revenge for her trying to claim you.” His lips curled to reveal spike-like teeth.

Panic raced through Jessica. Shawn had been through enough with Flidae’s banishment and the train accident. He didn’t need to get tangled up with the Celtic god of dead souls.

“I’ll go with you,” she said, finding it hard to look at Baglor in Brandon’s body.

“You give in without a fight, raven?” Baglor angled his head at her, his eyes red again.

“If it means you’ll leave Shawn alone, then yes, I’ll go without a fight.”

“Love.” He shook his head. “Such a human emotion. One that causes even the most intelligent to do foolish things.” Shrugging in a way that was totally Brandon, Baglor wrapped his hand around her arm.

In a flash of fiery light, her raven form burst forth. Her wings wouldn’t move though.

“I control your wings now. You will fly to my realm.” Baglor looked around. “My true form isn’t fit to show in this world. You’re not ready to see me as I really am. You’ve spent too much time among humans. Your mind can’t conceive of me. In time, that will change.” He plucked one of her black feathers and ran it along his cheek. “And we have time. So much time.”

He disappeared in another blast of fiery light, his haunting laugh echoing between her ears.

Her wings spread out of their own accord and suddenly she was flying. Up, up, up. Beyond the tree canopy. Above the clouds. Into the blue summer sky. Looking back, her raven eyes easily spotted her SUV. Shawn was inside, waiting for her. How long would he wait? What would he do when she didn’t come back? How far would he go to find her?

If he risked his life to rescue her and something happened to him, she’d never forgive herself. Never. Neither would his family, his pack. She hoped Baglor would keep up his end of the deal and leave Shawn alone. She’d followed this god without a fight though something told her that she hadn’t really had a choice. If Baglor could control when she shifted and whether she could fly, he wasn’t in the habit of having things not go his way.

And what was it that he wanted to go his way? He hadn’t answered that question beyond saying that ravens were his.

Jessica’s wings grew tired as she got farther and farther away from the festival grounds. That raven part of her knew she was heading south. She felt when she’d crossed the Maine border, flew over Vermont, entered Massachusetts. Where were they going? And what would be expected of her once they got there.

Where was Baglor now?

I’m here, raven. Always here.

She looked around but didn’t see him anywhere.

That’s because I can be everywhere.

Well, that was unsettling, but apparently true. He’d somehow found Brandon, borrowed his image, and located her easily. Where was Flidae now?

Jessica waited for the goddess’s voice to fill her ears, but nothing came back to her. Instead a silence so deafening filled her head. She faltered in her flying. Her wings took control again before she lost any altitude.

Worry not about goddesses who have no right to you. I’ve taken care of Flidae.

Taken care? What did that mean? How did one take care of a Celtic goddess?

Same way one takes care of all wild things. I caged her.

The power it must have taken to do that scared the shit out of Jessica. Every instinct in her raven body wanted to change course. Fly back to Maine. Run into the safety of Shawn’s arms.

But it is not to be. A tree top below Jessica burst into flames. In the blaze, two red eyes gleamed. You must keep flying until you reach my realm.

Jessica had a funny feeling Baglor’s realm didn’t quite exist in this plane.

Ravens are so intelligent, Baglor said as the flames rose and pricked at her underside as she flew by.

She tried to pump her wings and gain more altitude, but once again, she wasn’t in control. A moment later, the flames disappeared and her course shifted a bit. The coastline unfurled beneath her then pure Atlantic Ocean stretched out in every direction.

When a small island came into view, her body angled down and hot, tropical air caressed her feathers. She was pulled down by an unseen force until her talons settled in sun-baked sand. With a zip of light, her raven form disappeared and she was in human form and naked on a beach. Her mouth was impossibly dry and her arms ached from such a long journey. Squeezing her eyes closed, she rolled to her back, certain the sun would soon scorch her.

Part of her screamed to get to her feet. To run. To swim. To do something. Another part of her knew it was completely useless. Baglor was so powerful. What could she possibly do to hurt him?

“Put this on.”

She opened her eyes and squinted up, recognizing Brandon’s voice. It wasn’t Brandon’s eyes that stared down at her though. And how fucked up was it that she preferred seeing Brandon’s eyes than the red ones that pinned her in place now. She’d spent all this time trying to forget Brandon’s eyes and the darkness he’d brought into her life.

A red, lightweight robe fell over her. She shrugged into it to cover herself. Not that anyone else appeared to be in the immediate vicinity.

“Where are we?” she asked.

“A scenic spot on our way to my realm.”

Her vision suddenly sharpened and every detail of the trees around her, every grain of sand beneath her, every foamy crest on the water before her came into ultra-clear focus.

She looked at Baglor. He even had the power to enhance her human vision. What were his limits?

“Those are not secrets to reveal just yet, raven.”

“Why did we stop? Why didn’t we go straight to your realm?”

Baglor lowered to sit next to her and she scooted away. “Would you prefer I took another form rather than Brandon’s?”

In the space of a second, Shawn was sitting beside her. Only it wasn’t him and she clamped her eyes shut, shaking her head and trying desperately not to cry.

“Don’t like this either?”

“No. This is actually more unsettling.” Painful too. Looking into Shawn’s face, but seeing none of the love he had for her reflected in his gray-blue eyes made an incredible loneliness well up inside her. This would have been easier if she hadn’t gotten that second chance with him.

Brandon’s form returned. “You’ll see my true self soon enough.”

She wished he’d get it over with. Drag her to his realm. Do whatever it was he had planned. Her life was over anyway. What did it matter now?

“Ever consider you were meant for more than a mundane human existence? That being able to shift into raven form was a gift, not a curse? That you were made to wield great power?”

“I don’t care about power,” she said, wrapping the sides of the robe tighter around her.

“What do you care about, raven?” Baglor’s eyes were pure jealous Brandon right now and that did nothing to ease the tension tightening her entire body.

“I care about very little.”

“Untrue. You care about that wolf.”

She couldn’t hide that fact. Her feelings for Shawn were the only truth she knew right now. Everything else was a mystery. One she didn’t particularly want to solve.

One she wanted no part of actually.

****

Shawn drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of Jessica’s SUV. What was taking her so long? All she was doing was grabbing a couple boxes. He’d already had a conversation with Kole, readjusted some of Jessica’s packed stuff in the back of the SUV, polished off his iced coffee and most of Jessica’s, and composed a grocery list so he could cook his angel a dinner to remember once they got back to his cabin. Tonight was a beginning—one he wanted to commemorate.

He peered through the windshield, but a group of shoppers blocked his view of the table where they’d sold all of Jessica’s pottery. Grumbling, he slid out of the SUV, his left leg protesting the notion of any more walking for today. He pushed that pain aside and headed for the festival grounds. When he got to the table and saw the haphazard way the boxes were arranged on the grass, he immediately swiveled his head in all directions.

Angel? He reached out to her down the soul mate bond, but all he received in return was silence. Inhaling deeply, he picked up a faint trace of her scent around the table and on the boxes. He closed his eyes and focused on her fragrance. If he could shift right now, he’d be able to follow her trail better, but far too many villagers milled about at the moment.

Shawn walked away from the table and into the middle of the festival grounds. So many other scents—baked bread, fresh fruits, homemade candles, other humans—mixed in that he quickly lost the smell of Jessica. Where could she have gone? Had she seen a friend she wanted to bid farewell to before she left Maine?

Had she changed her mind about moving to Vermont?

He immediately rejected that idea. Nothing about her today suggested she hadn’t wanted to make this life change with him. Nothing. All day, she’d given him heated glances, loving touches. She’d been as eager as he’d been to sell all her wares and hit the road. She wouldn’t have changed her mind.

So what had happened? And why did his gut tell him his angel was in trouble?

Flidae? he called out the goddess, hoping for once she’d offer him some help, but she didn’t reply. He was once again on his own.

But that wasn’t true. Shawn dug out his cell phone and tapped the screen.

“Aye?”

“I need the pack, Reardon. Jessica’s missing.”

“Where are you?” Reardon asked.

Shawn gave him Jessica’s address instead, figuring that would be a good rendezvous point. “I can’t pick her up with the soul mate bond.”

“We’re on our way.”

Shoving his phone back into his pocket, Shawn enlisted some human help while he waited for supernatural backup. He found one of the police officers who had been patrolling the perimeter of the festival grounds.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I was wondering if you’ve seen a woman with long black hair, deep brown eyes, and skin darker than mine.”

“What was she wearing?” the officer asked.

Shawn gave a description, but the officer shook his head. “Can’t say I’ve seen a woman fitting those specs. Have you lost her?”

“Aye,” Shawn said. Lost her and my heart if I don’t find her. He reached out to Flidae again with no luck. When he thought of the goddess, however, he remembered the strange voice Jessica had heard in her head. The one threatening to claim her.

Could that have been a literal threat? Claiming with Flidae meant she catalogued you along with her other wild creatures and she toyed around inside your head. Did whoever was speaking to Jessica have more power? Could he do more? Demand more?

The police officer pulled his cell phone off his belt. “I’ll text the two other officers on duty here today with your description. Maybe they’ve seen her.”

Shawn nodded, but he was certain no one had seen where Jessica had gone. No one accept whoever had her.

After a few minutes, the police officer checked his phone and said, “None of the officers here have seen her. How long has she been missing?”

“Twenty minutes.”

The officer’s eyebrows rose up to his short red hair. “Twenty minutes? That’s not long, sir. Are you sure she’s missing missing? Did you check the bathrooms by the library there?” He gestured to the white building adjacent to the festival grounds.

Shawn could tell he wouldn’t get anywhere with local law enforcement on this. How could he explain that he just knew his soul mate was in danger?

“Maybe she found one of her girlfriends and is swapping brownie recipes,” he said, waving a hand and pasting on a smile for the officer.

“Now that sounds about right. You know how these gals are. Always yammering on about something with their friends while we’re stuck waiting around for them.” The officer rolled his eyes and chuckled. “The gift to gab is encoded in their DNA.”

Shawn nodded, thanked the officer for his help, and limped back to the SUV, his gaze sweeping the grounds as he moved. He didn’t have to not see Jessica to know she wasn’t here though. He felt it. Deep down. As if that invisible thread that tied them together had been severed.

Leaning against the SUV, he pulled his phone back out and did a search on Celtic deities. A bunch of names came up, including Flidae’s. He scrolled through them, searching for any mention of ravens or raven shifters amongst the information. The picture icon for the god of dead souls was a menacing dragon-like creature. When he clicked on that link, another page of text came up on a god named Baglor. Shawn didn’t read the text right away. Instead he studied the page’s background.

Black feathers. Overlapping. Moving ever so slightly on the screen.

He pushed off the SUV and focused all his attention on the text now.

In Celtic mythology, Baglor is the god of dead souls. He manifests as a giant, black beast with one red eye in the center of his massive head, but he has the ability to take any form he chooses. His wings are akin to raven wings. They are so large in scope they are said to dim the sun when he takes to the skies. Baglor delights in surprising the souls he collects and often calls upon ravens to do his bidding...

Shawn’s stomach did a sick roll. His angel did not belong in the clutches of such a monster if that was indeed where she was. He didn’t see how anything else was possible though. This god—this Baglor—wanted her for her raven shifting abilities, and clearly he was willing to ignore the fact that Flidae had claimed Jessica. Once again the affairs of gods and goddesses were screwing him out of his happiness.

And maybe worse.

Blasted, Flidae, where are you? She was supposed to protect wild things, wasn’t she? How could she let Baglor take what was hers? What if Jessica was hurt?

What if she was dead?

Shawn turned around and pounded his fist into the SUV’s driver side door. The door crumpled on impact and his knuckles came away bloody. He stared at the bright red dripping between his fingers and all his fighter instincts—his warrior instincts—rose to the surface. The werewolf was right there too. His fingernails lengthened into claws on both hands and his canines tingled in his mouth. If he didn’t calm down, he’d shift right there in the parking lot.

If he shifted in the parking lot, those police officers would have to do something about the lunatic with fur, claws, and razor sharp teeth snapping his jaws at festival attendees. That would do him no good.

He climbed back into the SUV and started it. Shaking his hands, he was able to retract the claws and keep his teeth from sliding out. The scrapes on his knuckles healed, but the rage didn’t abate. No, that was bubbling, boiling, ready to spray on anyone who would dare take his angel. He couldn’t lose her again. Not after soul mate bonding with her. Not after realizing she was his destiny.

Shawn drove to Jessica’s house and parked the SUV. Inside her home, he paced like a caged animal. From one end of the house to the other and back again. And again. And again. His leg was screaming by now, but he couldn’t sit still. Not when Jessica could be out there and in peril. The longer he waited, the farther away she could be, but he didn’t want to do anything until the pack arrived. Not that having more people was necessarily a good plan. It was all he had though.

Roaring, he swept a vase of wildflowers off the kitchen island. The vase—one Jessica had made—hit the tiled floor and shattered into a bazillion shards. Water sprayed everywhere and flower petals scattered like floral confetti. The bright reds, yellows, and purples still looked so cheery covering the dark tile and somehow that made Shawn mad too. Why should such colors exist when his angel could be in danger?

The next three hours passed slowly and when another SUV parked beside Jessica’s, Shawn was outside as fast as his hurting leg would take him.

“Thank the gods.” He stood in front of Reardon who had climbed out of the SUV first. Being near his former leader had a soothing effect—one he desperately needed if he had any hope of finding Jessica.

Brandy hopped down from the passenger side and Jaemus, Nika, Emma, and Kole came out from the two rows of back seats. The pack bond intensified as they circled around Shawn and Reardon.

“I know I’m not one of you yet,” Nika said, “but I want to help if I can.”

Shawn pulled her into a hug, surprising everyone, but if he’d learned one thing from Jessica, it was that people cared about him. They wanted to help, and this was one instance where he would definitely let them. “We can take all the help we can find.”

Nika squeezed him then stepped back.

“That’s what a pack is for,” Jaemus said.

Shawn led them all inside and explained about the threatening voice Jessica had heard, what he’d learned about Baglor, and how he couldn’t seem to get a hold of Flidae.

“She’s not answering at all?” Kole cocked his head. Flidae?

Each of the other werewolves did the same, but that disappointing silence greeted them all.

“That’s odd,” Emma said.

Reardon frowned. “Something isn’t right. Being a natural born werewolf, I can feel her stronger than the rest of you. Right now... right now, I feel nothing. As if the connection to her has been snipped completely.”

“What does that mean?” Brandy asked.

“I don’t know,” Reardon said, “but let me try something.” He opened the door off the kitchen and stepped into the backyard.

Everyone followed, but Reardon held up a hand. “Stay there.”

In the next few seconds, he was naked and on all fours, shifting to his huge, black wolf form. The late afternoon sun glinted off his coat and reflected in his big green-gold eyes.

Flidae? Reardon called as he wandered closer to the tree line behind Jessica’s house. Can you hear me?

Shawn watched as Reardon’s tail wagged.

I hear her, he said, swiveling his ears. She’s... she’s captured.

Who captured her? Shawn asked.

Baglor, Reardon said. She’s being held in his realm.

How did Baglor manage to capture Flidae? She’s so powerful, Brandy said.

Aye, but Baglor is more powerful and cunning, Reardon said. He came in one of his many forms and lured Flidae to her imprisonment.

Does she know if Baglor has Jessica? Shawn asked. Maybe it was wrong of him to dismiss the fact that Flidae was captured, but he needed to find Jessica like he needed his next breath.

Reardon’s wolf head lifted, his nose twitching as he sniffed. Aye, Baglor has her.

Shawn strode back into the house, sunk to a seat at the kitchen table, and pounded his fist onto the wood top. The resounding boom made Nika, Brandy, and Emma jump as they came inside. His claws came out again and even Kole standing behind him now, a comforting hand on his shoulder, did nothing to calm him. His teeth elongated, and he couldn’t stop his snout from appearing.

The T-shirt he was wearing tore in half, the muscles in his back getting too large to be contained. Cotton scraps fell noiselessly to the ground, but a low growl rumbled in Shawn’s throat.

“Shawn,” Kole said. “Let’s form a plan. Going all wild isn’t going to bring Jessica back.”

But it feels damn good, Shawn thought as he stood. Except for the vise grip his prosthetic leg had on his now enlarged thigh. Wolfman form allowed him to remain on two legs, but the prosthesis was a bit too small for him to walk properly.

“I know, brother. I do.” Kole held up his hands to stop Shawn from walking out the door. “But the one advantage we potentially have is numbers.” He gestured to all of them and to Reardon, now dressed again and entering the kitchen. “There are seven of us. Together we are stronger.”

Baglor could have an army, Shawn thought.

“He doesn’t,” Reardon said. “Flidae said he appears to be working alone. She didn’t see anyone else when he captured her. If he grabbed Jessica from the festival grounds in front of shoppers, he most likely was alone there too. He’s keeping a low profile. That same strategy could work for us too.”

He touched Shawn’s forearm—one that had a light smattering of fur now—and the pack connection vibrated throughout Shawn’s body. His claws and teeth retracted and his muscles returned to their normal bulk. His leg hurt even more now.

Emma backed him up into the chair he’d been sitting in earlier, and he let out a small sigh at the relief in his leg. “Where is Baglor’s realm?” Emma asked Reardon. “Can we get to it?”

Shawn’s throat tightened at the willingness of everyone in this room to help even if it could mean experiencing serious danger.

Or death.

Getting involved in the affairs of the gods and goddesses wasn’t something any of them wanted to do, but if it was the only way to get Jessica back, they’d do it.

They’d do it for him.

Chapter Eleven

Jessica awoke with a gasp, her hands gripping something stiff beneath her. She sat up, pulling the sides of a crimson robe tighter around her. She swiveled in all directions, trying to get her bearings, but this definitely was not a familiar location. The walls around her were gray rock and crumbling, a bit of moisture dribbling down in spots, darkening the stone. Looking at that water made her sandpapery throat yearn for a drink. When had she last had one? Her iced coffee on the drive to the festival grounds. Shawn had probably finished it while he waited for her to come back to the SUV.

Why the hell had she gone back to that damn table for those boxes?

Because her mind had been on one thing—getting all her shit packed so she could get to Vermont as quickly as possible. To be with the man she loved. The man who was her soul mate in every sense of the word.

Shawn had wanted to come to the table with her. Why hadn’t she let him? Why had she been so independent?

Because that’s all I’ve been since leaving Brandon. And she’d enjoyed that independence. That free feeling of doing whatever the hell she pleased.

And now she was under the thumb of the god of dead souls.

Scanning the dim cave-like room, she appeared to be the only one there. A scent like burning flowers filled the air, and a deep breath of it made her cough. The sound echoed off the walls and a shiver worked its way up her spine at the thought that perhaps she was completely alone.

Had Baglor left her in this place, wherever it was? Was that a good thing?

Parting her knees, she peered between them to see that she was sitting upon a slab of solid granite. The surface had markings etched onto it, none of which she recognized. Of course, she wasn’t up-to-date on her study of ancient Celtic mythology so she had no idea if those markings were supposed to mean something to her. Right now they just meant she was likely still in Baglor’s custody.

And if that were true... Flidae?

Though the goddess didn’t answer her, Jessica had a sense—a faint one—that Flidae wasn’t far away. Did that mean she was in Baglor’s realm too? Wherever that was.

Dammit.  She’d been unconscious through the journey. Had that been on purpose?

“Certainly. Humans—even shifters—aren’t meant to know where this place is before they’ve been properly inducted as my associates.”

Jessica’s head whipped up as she regarded Baglor waltzing into the room. He’d chosen Brandon’s human form again, but she hadn’t grown any more accustomed to seeing her ex-husband... well... husband actually. When she’d fled Arizona, she hadn’t gone through all the steps to get a divorce. She hadn’t had the time or the money. As time had passed, she still didn’t pursue officially ending their marriage for fear Brandon would drag her back to Arizona.

And he’d be mad. She knew better than anyone else that a mad Brandon was dangerous.

“Have a nice rest, raven?” Baglor had been at the other end of the strange room, but in a blink of Jessica’s eyes, he was right beside the stone slab. He reached out and ran his hand up her arm.

Instinctually, she recoiled and dark Brandon eyes narrowed.

“You’re going to be a challenge to break in, aren’t you, Jessica Knight?”

“My name is Fairheart. Jessica Fairheart.” The name she’d chosen when her life as Jessica Knight had come to an end.

Baglor wagged a finger at her as he angled his head, listening. “Brandon wholeheartedly disagrees with you. Under the laws of humans, you still belong to him.”

“I don’t belong to anyone but myself.” And Shawn. Independence aside, she wanted to belong to him with every fiber of her being.

Baglor let out a laugh that rippled along Jessica’s spine. “The wolf again? How odd. As a raven shifter, you should not be drawn to him. There should be no connection at all.”

She shrugged her left shoulder. “Well, there is. A strong one. A soul mate connection.”

“Nonsense.” Baglor walked away from the slab then turned back quickly. “My ravens don’t have soul mates.”

Jessica slid her legs over the edge of the stone and stood. “Guess I’m not one of your ravens then.”

“Do not think because that fool goddess claimed you—without any right to—that you are free of me. If I want you, you are mine.” He grabbed her arm and yanked her up against him, causing her to lose her bravado and let out a squeak. His body felt exactly like Brandon’s and apparently gods weren’t above domestic violence. This was an all too familiar position she found herself in. “You asked what I wanted you for. It’s time you knew.”

He dragged her out of the cave-like room and into a narrow tunnel lit by torches. The flickering light cast shadows everywhere and Jessica found herself trying to look in all directions at all times, not sure of what might slither out of the dark areas. She hoped an exit might present itself, but knew it wouldn’t. She wasn’t that lucky.

Where am I?

Not being awake for the journey to Baglor’s realm bothered her. A great deal. How far away from home was she? Shawn had told her he’d come from an entirely different time. Was that also the case now? Was she in another time? Was the last thread of hope that she’d be rescued about to snap?

Baglor slid her in front of him and pushed her into another room. This one was much larger and had windows, but only darkness poured through them, giving her no clues about what might be outside. The cavernous space had more torches lighting the perimeter and two elaborate, crimson thrones sat on an elevated platform with a set of polished obsidian steps leading up to them. Below the platform, molten rock bubbled a fiery red-orange.

Is this Hell?

“Not exactly,” Baglor said, reading her mind. “I’m not that god, but an associate of his. I collect dead souls and send the... tarnished ones to him.”

“Is that your throne?” She pointed to the one that was clearly masculine with its larger size, stockier legs, and wider girth. The other throne was smaller, more delicate, and slimmer. Both thrones had detailed, knotted ironwork that—as Jessica looked more closely—shifted into different designs every few seconds as if they were... alive.

“Aye, it is my throne.” Baglor released her—because where would she run—and climbed the steps to the manlier throne. He jumped up to sit on the throne and the liquid rock below him grew more animated, flames reaching for him. He seemed pleased by that, his eyes closing and the grin on his face growing.

It was totally strange to see Brandon sitting in that throne. He looked tiny, which made Jessica consider the size of the real Baglor.

“Smart raven,” he said. “I think you might be ready to see my true form now.”

She shook her head and held up her hands. “No. Please, no. I can guarantee you I’m not ready.” Her body was most definitely in a version of complete panic now. How else could she explain the calm conversation she’d been having with the god of dead souls? Clearly, her brain had taken over so she didn’t have a total system shutdown due to being scared out of her skin.

“As you wish.” Baglor settled in his throne as best as he could in Brandon’s form. “We have time.”

“You still haven’t told me what you want me for.”

Baglor simply glanced at the second throne then back at her, his Brandon eyes looking as they always did when Brandon wanted something physical from her.

She swallowed loudly, the room no longer seeming as large as it had upon first entering.

“I need a queen, and who better than a beautiful, female raven shifter?” Again, Baglor had closed a distance in a mere second. He stood before her, his hand going up to smooth her hair.

Jessica wanted to jerk out of reach, but she was too stunned. Had she heard him correctly? He wanted her to be his queen? “Don’t you need... like... a powerful goddess queen or something?” He couldn’t possibly want a human-slash-shifter to share in his dead souls responsibilities.

Could he?

Baglor was quiet for a long moment as he let her hair sift between his Brandon fingers. When his thumb brushed along her jaw, she closed her eyes for the touch felt like Shawn’s.

“No goddess queen needed,” he whispered. “Just you.”

When she opened her eyes, Baglor had shifted into Shawn’s form again. The desire to sink into him, to let his strong arms surround and comfort her was overwhelming.

“Jessica...” His voice was what killed her. That voice had the ability to make her want to strip and throw herself at him.

“No.” She shook her head and rubbed her temples. “You’re not real.”

He cupped her cheek. “Don’t I feel real?”

Shit. He did. He totally did, but she had to resist, had to remember this was all a game. A game she didn’t want to play.

“But you don’t have a choice, raven.”

Baglor was back in Brandon’s form, but he squeezed his eyes shut. As if being in Shawn’s form had drained him.

Hmm. Was taking the form of a werewolf more work than taking that of a regular human? And did this form-borrowing do something to the... victim?

“What happens when you shift forms?” she asked. “Does it hurt the person you’re shifting into?”

“Ah, step one to accepting your fate, raven, is curiosity about how things work here. Excellent.” The smile Baglor gave her made her skin crawl.

“I’m not accepting anything. I just want to know if Brandon and Shawn are affected when you take their forms. You said you located Brandon to find me.” But as far as she knew, Baglor hadn’t been in contact with Shawn. He’d only seen him at the art festival.

“I did speak with Brandon, but he is still in Arizona, living his life.” Baglor walked a slow circle around her, and she fought not to turn around to keep her gaze on him at all times. “But he was very interested in what I might know about you and your whereabouts.” He shook his head. “No good wife leaves her husband without a word like that, Jessica.”

“No good husband beats up his wife,” she shot back.

Baglor clapped. “There’s the fire I require in my queen. That’s why you’ve been chosen, raven. You had the courage to shed your bad circumstances and start your entire life over. I need that kind of courage down here.”

Down here? Down where? How far down? Close to Hell down?

“A couple levels above actually.” He waved a hand. “I’ll give you the grand tour of our realm in a moment, but to put your mind at rest, your wolf is fine. When I borrow his form, it is only a borrow as it is with Brandon. Both men are still in their own lives. I’ve done nothing to their actual forms.”

That was a relief. At least she knew Shawn was okay. “How did talking to Brandon lead you to me? He didn’t know where I was.” So what had Baglor had to do to get information out of Brandon?

“He didn’t have a clue where you’d run off to. You’ve done a superb job hiding—another quality my queen needs. The ability to lie.”

“I’m not a liar,” she said. “I’m a survivor.”

“Either way spells advantage for me when you become my queen.”

When. As if the deal was sealed.

“Isn’t it, raven?” He gestured to the throne room around him. “I have you here. I don’t plan on letting you leave. This is your reality now.”

Jessica’s stomach pitched. Suddenly the heat in the room swelled and a sweat broke out on her flesh. When she would have fallen to her knees, Baglor caught her. He scooped her up into his arms and her brain screamed at her to get away from him. She wasn’t sure what was worse—to be this close to Brandon’s body or this close to the god of dead souls. Unfortunately, her body wouldn’t comply with her wish to hurt her captor.

Baglor carried her up the steps, the heat growing almost unbearable, and deposited her onto the queen’s throne. The moment her backside hit the seat, however, an incredible cool swept over her. The sweat dried on her skin and she didn’t feel the steam rising from the fires blazing beneath the platform. The throne shifted beneath her, molding to her form—feeling absolutely wonderful—and Baglor kneeled before her.

“When Flidae claimed you, I was alerted to your existence. As far as how I actually found you,” he began, his voice distant in her ears as she enjoyed the feel of the throne—the power—beneath her, “I simply had to find a tarnished soul I would be collecting eventually.” He motioned to Brandon’s form. “Then I had access to his entire life story, including the night you left him. I then followed your trail, sweet raven, to Maine. Finding you at the festival grounds was just a lucky hit today.”

She’d heard Baglor’s explanation as she sat on that throne. It probably should have garnered some reaction from her. Shock. Fear. Anger.

But the only thing she felt was... pride.

Pride in her raven king.

****

“Let’s all shift into full wolf form,” Reardon said. “Maybe our connection to Flidae will be stronger as a wolf pack and we can locate her.”

Shawn was still in wolfman form so he instantly finished his shift, his prosthetic leg falling to the kitchen floor with a thud. He picked it up in his jaws and on three legs, he ran clumsily out of the house and into the woods. In the next few seconds, five other large wolves flanked his sides. A glance back to the house revealed Nika standing on the back porch, her arms hugged around her as she watched.

She will stay behind, Jaemus thought. Maybe Jessica will escape and return on her own.

Shawn hoped for that with all of his being, but knew it wasn’t likely. Did anyone ever win against the gods?

Aye, Reardon thought. We’ve all won against Flidae’s banishment, haven’t we? We’ve all found love and a place to belong here in this time.

The man had a point. Shawn would never forget the suffering he’d gone through as a result of Flidae’s banishment, but he’d also found his soul mate—the one person who could complete his life.

What should we do to find Flidae? Brandy asked as she nuzzled Reardon’s neck.

Aye, Emma said. Where do we start?

Reardon led the pack deeper into the woods to a clearing where the last remnants of sunset pink turned the leaves coppery. He nosed each of them into position around the perimeter of a circle. When he put his nose to the ground and inhaled, so did the other wolves.

At first Shawn only smelled the normal scents of the woods. Pine, decomposing leaves, damp soil, forest creatures... nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary.

Until another scent slithered into the area. A fragrance like what clouds might smell like or sky or... flight. With a touch of wildflowers.

Jessica.

Is that her smell? Kole asked.

Aye, it is. Why am I smelling it? Shawn turned his head in all directions, hoping, hoping. If his angel was captured, if she was so far away from him right now, how could he possibly smell her as if she were standing right before him? Having her scent swirl around him but not having her right there made him feel hollow inside, as if another piece of him were missing.

He closed his eyes to breathe in more of Jessica’s scent despite the yearning it caused. If he never saw her again, at least he’d make her fragrance a permanent part of him.

I will see her. He had to believe that. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—give up.

When he opened his eyes, a white mist rolled into the forest and sifted beyond the trees into their circle. It slithered along the ground then collected into a tall cone. Within the haze that gathered at the center, Flidae’s form materialized, weaker and fuzzier than Shawn had ever seen the goddess.

Wolves... Her voice was a faint echo, none of the goddess strength she usually radiated coming through to them. If a Celtic deity could look ill, she did. Her pale skin was even lighter, and her long black hair was a tangled mess about her gaunt face. The flowing garments she normally wore were tattered and stuck to her thin, fragile frame. She was all hollow cheeks and sharp angles, all her natural beauty and vibrancy withered away.

We are here, Flidae. Reardon bowed his head and lowered his front paws slightly.

The others did the same, Shawn a little reluctantly so. He’d never pledge his full allegiance to her. She was the one who had dumped him on those train tracks where he’d gotten ripped apart. She was the one who had the power to fix his leg. She was the one who wouldn’t.

Your raven is here, she said, her wraith-like image looking at Shawn. Baglor has plans for her. Plans he’s already executing.

Shawn dropped his prosthetic leg and let out a roar, his frustration erupting. Even when he’d been recovering from losing his leg, he hadn’t felt as powerless as he felt right now. His angel had been there for him when he needed help, but he couldn’t be there for her right now.

Kole took two steps closer to Shawn and pushed his muzzle into Shawn’s side. The touch settled him, but not enough. Not nearly enough.

How do we get to you? Reardon, ever the leader, asked. We will come for you both.

Flidae’s form brightened a little as she smiled. Even after the harsh lesson I tried to teach you all, my wolves are still my most loyal creatures. She bowed before all of them. Even though Shawn wasn’t particularly fond of Flidae, he knew what an honor it was to have her bow before them.

Your lesson brought us love, goddess, Reardon said. Our lives have been changed for the better. That’s why we have to find Jessica for Shawn. He deserves the happiness we all have been granted. Probably more so.

Flidae looked at Shawn again. You are quite right. She turned her head to look at something beyond her shoulder—something the rest of them couldn’t see. When she faced them again, her eyes were wide with fear. You must hurry. Things have been set in motion here that if not undone in time will cause us all to suffer. She wrung her hands, further unsettling Shawn. Baglor’s realm is a few levels above Hades.

All the wolves’ backs rippled at the mention of Hades.

There is an island, she continued.

Suddenly, an image of a gorgeous piece of land, filled with color and bordered by gently rolling ocean waves filled Shawn’s mind. Sunshine blazed in the blue, blue sky and sand glistened in the light.

Are you all seeing this? he asked.

Aye, Kole said.

In the next moment, Shawn knew the location. He looked up at Flidae. Thank you. Never did he think he’d be saying those words to her.

Her gaze softened as she regarded him. I have tested you the most, wolf fighter. Despite your often foul mood—before you accepted your soul mate—you continued to fight, to remain on two feet, to keep walking through this life I banished you to. You are not the Alpha of this pack, but you have such strength. You are selfless when it comes to your soul mate’s happiness. For all of that you should be rewarded.

The goddess squeezed her eyes shut, and with an expression of great pain on her face, she raised her thin arms over Shawn.

He wasn’t sure if he should run. Most of him wanted to, but a sliver of something unidentifiable told him to stay put. His heart pounded as Flidae chanted words he couldn’t understand. A sharp jolt of pain knifed through his body and he crouched low to the ground in agony.

Shawn! Kole yelled.

Stay back, Flidae warned then resumed her chanting.

Shawn panted, his lungs having trouble taking in a deep breath. This was it. He’d come all this way—he’d loved—and Flidae was killing him.

But hadn’t she mentioned a reward? What kind of reward came with this much pain?

A blast of bright purple light crackled from Flidae’s fingertips and hit his hindquarters. With a whine, he rolled to his right side as the stump that was his back left leg tingled. He howled, long and low, as the light surrounded him. An incredible heat burned throughout his body, and he writhed on the ground, dirt sticking to his fur.

The pack growled and barked all around him, but the sound was echoing and distant. His vision blurred as he fought to breathe, fought to endure the pain—a pain akin to the kind he’d felt on those damn train tracks.

Flidae let out a roar of her own then her image disappeared completely. The white mist rolled away and everything was quiet around Shawn.

He raised his head, nothing but forest brush in his view. He got his front paws under him and prepared to awkwardly get his rump up on his one back leg.

Only he didn’t have to.

His back left leg was there. Right where it was supposed to be. Helping his right leg. Getting him balanced on all fours just as he’d dreamed since the accident.

She gave it back to you, Kole said from his right side.

Shawn swung his head to look at his brother then stared at his returned leg again. Could this be real? Had Flidae truly given his lost leg back? Was he now whole again?

He closed his eyes and shifted back to human. He let out an elated shout when two human knees supported him in the soft, damp forest soil. Slowly, he got to his feet—a right and a left—and stood on shaky legs. He didn’t care he was naked. He didn’t care his flesh was dirty. He didn’t care his stomach wanted to empty itself.

All he cared about was that the goddess had rewarded him with his second biggest wish come true. A wish that could help him make his first biggest wish come true too.

Spending a lifetime with Jessica.

How do you feel? Emma’s wolf form sidled up next to him.

“Like I could run a marathon,” Shawn said. “Come on.”

Wait, Reardon said. We don’t know where to go.

“Aye, we do.” Shawn turned to regard Reardon’s huge black wolf. “Flidae showed us.”

Five sets of otherworldly wolf eyes blinked in confusion at him.

All I saw was an island, Jaemus said. An island that could be anywhere.

“She didn’t show all of us?” Shawn shook his head, his fingers raking through his hair. He ran his hand over his left thigh and nearly wept at the feel of flesh against his rough palm. He bent his left leg, stretched the stiffness out of it, looked at it again. He wanted to be pissed at Flidae. For making him suffer all this time when giving his leg back was as easy as expending a little goddess energy. If she had healed him right away, however, he wouldn’t have met Jessica. His angel.

Maybe she’d belong to someone else.

If you don’t hurry, whispered Flidae’s voice, she will.

As long as there was breath in his lungs, Jessica would belong only to him.

“I know where to go,” he said running toward Jessica’s house, “but we can’t go as wolves.”

After all of them shifted back to human and dressed, they met in Jessica’s kitchen where Shawn had her laptop open on the table.

“I bought us all plane tickets.” He tapped on the keyboard and brought up a map of the Atlantic Ocean.

“Plane tickets?” Nika asked. “Where do you all have to go?”

Jaemus slid his arm around his mate’s shoulders and squeezed her in close to his side.

“A small island here.” Shawn turned the laptop around so Nika could see the screen better. “Off the coast of Africa, below the equator.”

Nika ran her finger from Maine to the island. “Why would Flidae only show you where to go?”

“I think she wants me to go by mys—”

“Forget it,” Kole interrupted.

“Not happening,” Reardon said at the same time.

“Maybe she just didn’t want too many drivers,” Jaemus said, “but she had to know we’d all go.”

“Speaking of that,” Reardon said. “Perhaps it should be only the men that go.”

Brandy cuffed Reardon on the back of his head. “I know you’re an ancient Celtic warrior, but don’t be a complete caveman.” She looked at Emma who nodded. “The two of us are coming.”

“Me too,” Nika said.

Jaemus turned her to face him. “Not a good idea, sprite. You’re... you’re...”

“Fragile?” Nika put her hands on Jaemus’s chest. “I agree.” Taking a deep breath, she looked at everyone gathered in the kitchen then up at Jaemus. “Turn me.”

Brandy and Emma both let out a cheer, but Jaemus shook his head, shutting them up with a look. “You don’t have to do this, sprite. There are enough of us. And what if Jessica does come back on her own?”

“She’s not going to,” Shawn said.

“How do you know?” Jaemus asked, his golden eyes showing mixed emotions.

Shawn could feel that his cousin both wanted his mate to be safe and be a wolf. “I just know.” Normally, that wouldn’t be an acceptable explanation, but among this pack of paired soul mates, no one questioned his response.

“Look at me, Wolfman.” Nika put a hand to Jaemus’s jaw and made him turn to her. “I’m ready. I swear to you. I’ve been thinking about it more and more lately, and if I can help get Jessica back for Shawn, then now is the right time for me to change.” She rose to her tiptoes and brushed a kiss to Jaemus’s lips. “Trust me. Make me like you.”

Jaemus grabbed her hands and brought them up to his mouth. “Are you absolutely certain, sprite?”

Nika nodded and Jaemus tugged her to the sliding door. “We’ll be back.”

They disappeared out the door and Emma and Brandy hugged each other.

“We increase our numbers,” Brandy said, rubbing her hands together as if she were plotting.

“She’s going to be a beautiful wolf,” Emma said.

“Does she really want to be one though?” Shawn needed to know Nika wasn’t feeling pressured. He wanted her help. He somehow knew they’d need it, but he didn’t wish this werewolf life on anyone. If he’d been given the choice, he wouldn’t have picked it.

Emma put her hand on his forearm. “She wants it, Shawn. I promise you.”

“She was asking us a bunch of questions the other day when we had lunch together,” Brandy said. “It was only a matter of time.” She slid her arms around Reardon’s waist. “Besides the soul mate bond is better when you’re both wolves.”

Reardon kissed the top of her head. “Aye, the connection deepens.” He looked at Shawn. “I imagine you feel it deeply as well because Jessica is a shifter.”

“Aye.” What he felt for Jessica wasn’t any less intense than what his kin felt for their mates.

Why else would he be willing to go near Hades for her?

Chapter Twelve

The oddest feeling swept over Jessica as the throne undulated beneath her. Voices whispered in her head. So many voices, but a glance out into the room revealed that her only company was Baglor sitting beside her, a satisfied cat smile on his Brandon face.

“Show me your true form.” The command in her voice surprised her, but her entire body felt... electrified. As if someone had connected wires inside her and they were sparking everywhere.

“Ahh, the power is fantastic, isn’t it, my queen?” Baglor ran his hand along her forearm on the armrest of the throne. “All that is mine is also yours now.”

Somehow she knew that was a big deal, but she didn’t like that he’d ignored her request. Queens were not to be ignored. “Show me your true form. Now.”

Baglor’s smile grew, and for a moment, Jessica was reminded of how Brandon had reeled her in when she was younger. He’d been the most handsome man she’d ever met. Bottomless dark eyes, a brown so complete they made her feel as if she were swimming in chocolate every time she looked into them. What girl didn’t want to be swimming in chocolate? She hadn’t stood a chance. He’d owned a ranch so add in the cowboy swagger to his thick black hair and scruffy bearded face and she was caught, lassoed easier than any wild horse. She often wondered why another woman hadn’t scooped him up already, but readily attributed that to the explanation Brandon had given her.

“Ranching keeps me busy. No time for anything else.”

She’d seen it firsthand. There were endless chores to be done on the ranch, but then she’d noticed the way Brandon spoke to some of his employees. Not a lick of respect or decency. By the time she’d realized she wasn’t getting any respect or decency either, it was too late. She’d said I do. She didn’t have her own job, her own money, her own life, so she had been stuck.

Until she found the willpower to get unstuck.

Was she stuck now? She looked around the room again. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to be there or not. The throne felt so good, cradling her body. The heat below them was like a welcoming embrace.

The voices though...

They sounded desperate. Didn’t they?

Baglor vacated his throne and stood in front of her. “One true form coming up.”

The flames beneath the thrones grew agitated and the heat intensified. Jessica had a fleeting thought that she shouldn’t be able to tolerate the warmth, but when Baglor raised his Brandon arms and a blood-red mist snaked around him, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

As the coil of mist traveled up his body, it revealed a transformation taking place. Human feet and legs were replaced with monstrous, black-scaled legs that ended in sharp, taloned toes. Talons capable of gutting a man. A corded tail came next, its spiked tip coming close to bashing into the platform under the thrones. One hit and Jessica could easily imagine the whole thing shattering like glass.

The mist continued its ascent, unwrapping a beastly body covered in more black scales. Two bulging arms reached through the mist and instead of shying away, Jessica lifted her own arm, her fingers poised to touch the clawed hands.

Don’t touch him. Those damn voices were back, and yet, only the two of them were in the throne room.

The warning, however, was enough to have her retracting her hand before making contact with Baglor. His human Brandon face scowled and the red mist zipped up over his head. A ghastly dragon’s face snapped its jaws at her, odorous saliva dripping from a serpent’s tongue that slid beyond jagged teeth to lick at the air. One great red eye stared her down as misshapen ears twitched forward. Steel gray horns protruded from the top of the dragon head like a set of iron antlers. Black wings exploded from the creature’s back—wings that resembled her own.

The entire beast stood over nine feet tall, and Jessica suddenly understood why the room was so cavernous and the throne so gigantic. Baglor was a repulsively massive creature.

And yet... she wasn’t afraid. His power filled the room and pulsed in time with her own heartbeat. That same power coursed through her, making her wings itch to come out.

Let them, my queen. See what my power will add to your raven form.

Slowly, Jessica stood, surprised when the platform beneath the throne—her throne—didn’t roast her bare feet. She stretched out her arms and closed her eyes, letting the power reach a frenzied state inside her.

When her black wings blasted out of her, they were much larger than they’d ever been in the past. As her body completed the metamorphosis, her entire raven form was bigger from her beak all the way down to her talons. She looked up at Baglor and was shocked to realize she wasn’t much smaller than him. A foot of height difference existed between them and she knew she wouldn’t fit in any tree in any forest anywhere on Earth.

We are not bound by Earthly rules, my queen. With that statement, Baglor’s enormous form shrunk down to the size of a common squirrel. Sometimes the job we do requires something stealthier. He grew back to his mammoth size. Other times, more bulk is needed. He shifted once more to Brandon’s human form.

“Still other times call for a more mainstream approach.” He smoothed the T-shirt he now wore.

Of all the forms he’d shown her, she liked this one the least.

Baglor shifted again to look like Shawn, which caused Jessica to shift back to her human form. She’d changed her mind. This form was her least favorite. Miraculously, clothes appeared—a tank-top and shorts like she’d been wearing at the art festival.

“Don’t use his image,” she said. “Can’t you pick some random human I’ve never met or stay in some animal form?”

“I can pick any form you’d like, my queen.” He flicked between several human and animal forms until he settled on a dark-haired man that still resembled Brandon, but not enough to be upsetting. “Does this please you?” He held his hands out to his sides.

“Yes, that’s fine.” Now that she wasn’t in the throne, however, fear crept back into her. What was she doing here? How long had she been here? How could she escape? Did she want to escape?

Yes. I do. She needed to get back to Shawn. Shawn who loved her.

“No, my queen.” Baglor put his hands on her shoulders and backed her into the throne. He pushed her to sitting and once again the throne cupped her perfectly, as if she belonged there. “You are not getting back to anyone. This is your home now. We have so much to do together.”

Jessica’s head felt fuzzy. The longer she sat in that throne, the harder it was to think. She leaned forward, preparing to get up and clear her head, but Baglor put a hand on each armrest, corralling her in the seat.

“I can see you struggling, raven.” He moved in closer, his new human form handsome and captivating. “I believe you need to sit here for a while longer. Just until you understand your purpose here. With me.” He snapped his fingers and eight ravens flew into the room, each pair holding a length of silver, braided rope. Stepping back, he made room for the ravens to fasten her wrists and ankles to the throne.

“This isn’t necessary,” she said, straining against the rope that had somehow turned to metal cuffs welded to the throne. “You said you’d show me the rest of the realm.”

“In time. Right now, I need to be sure you leave your other life behind. Along with the wolf. You must be free of his hold on you in order to pledge your loyalty to me and what we have to accomplish.”

“What do we have to accomplish exactly?” She had trouble forming the question, her proximity to the throne siphoning her ability to resist surrender. With each moment that ticked by, Baglor’s new form grew more and more attractive to her.

He had gone down a few steps away from the platform, but he turned back to look at her, his eyes a golden color that resembled trapped sunlight. “Our goal is collecting the souls of the dead of course. There are so many tarnished ones in particular.” He brought one foot up to the previous step and leaned forward, elbow to his knee. “You do realize that every one of those wolves has a tarnished soul, aye? They are all warriors. They have all killed. Killed for riches. Their souls belong in Hell. We just have to orchestrate a little mass execution. A small detail. We’ll be doing the world a great service by eliminating them.”

Jessica was aware enough to understand he meant to kill Reardon, Jaemus, Kole, and... Shawn.

Her Shawn.

Baglor continued down several more steps before turning around again. “Oh, and I also have a goddess for us to torture.”

He descended the rest of the steps and strode out of the room, leaving Jessica tethered to the throne.

Her throne.

No, the throne.

Why couldn’t she decide whether being there was a good thing or not? She’d never been this frustrated before. Her brain had also never been this fried before.

It’s not too late, a voice whispered.

Jessica craned her head and searched all corners of the room, but found no one. “Hello?” Her voice echoed back to her.

You can save yourself. You can save my wolves.

“Flidae?” Jessica twisted more in her seat to see behind her, but she was still alone as far as she could see. “Flidae, where are you?”

It doesn’t matter, raven lass. Resist. Break free. Fly and save all you hold dear.

Jessica tugged at the restraints holding her to the throne. She couldn’t break them. Not in human form anyway.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she pictured her raven form. Not her usual raven form, but the oversized, jacked-up one. The one that was apparently fit to be the queen of dead souls. Her arms tingled and when her wings burst through, the cuffs holding her wrists got ripped off the armrests, freeing her arms. She flapped her huge wings once, but couldn’t ascend because her legs were still cuffed.

Why am I cuffed like a prisoner? I am the queen.

She shook her head. No, she wasn’t the queen. She was Jessica Fairheart. Owner of Fairheart Designs. She made stuff with clay and was in love with a werewolf who didn’t care she was a raven shifter. She was...

What am I? It was so hard to concentrate. She shifted the rest of the way, her massive legs breaking the cuffs at her ankles. With a powerful pump of her wings now, she soared to the ceiling of the room, carefully avoiding getting impaled by black stalactites protruding from the top. She did a few laps around the room, stretching her muscles and clearing her head. Her raven gaze focused on the thrones. Even from this height, that queen’s throne beckoned to her now that she knew what it felt like to sit in it. The power that radiated off both thrones was magnetic. Maybe even thrilling.

Resist, raven lass. You must resist.

Jessica flew to the corner of the room, the farthest she could be from the thrones and the pull died away. A little. She could still feel it, calling to her, making promises, offering power.

You don’t want power. Not this kind. You have your own power. The power to love my wolf fighter. He needs you.

Shawn. Yes, Shawn needed her. She needed him. She had to get back to him. She had to make sure Baglor couldn’t make good on his plan to exterminate the wolves. Tarnished souls or not, every one of those men were good. The way they loved should be enough to redeem them. If anything happened to Reardon, Jaemus, or Kole...

Jessica could easily imagine the grief that would hit Brandy, Nika, and Emma, as well as Dylan and Kylie. She could imagine it because if something happened to Shawn, she wouldn’t be able to recover. Not in this lifetime or the next hundred.

She searched the room again, looking for an exit. The only thing she saw was the door leading to the tunnel Baglor had taken her through earlier. Somehow she knew that might be a way out, but not a way to Flidae who was definitely here somewhere.

Where are you? she asked.

A picture flashed into Jessica’s mind as she hovered close to the ceiling, trying desperately to stay away from the thrones and their attraction. The vision showed a small, cramped space made out of the same gray crumbling rock she’d seen in that first room Baglor had held her in. A lump lay on the floor and it took Jessica a moment to realize that lump was Flidae. An iron shackle encircled the goddess’s neck, the chain links attached to the wall clinking as she raised her head. Flidae’s violet eyes were huge on her pallid face as her gaze connected with Jessica’s in the vision. This was not the goddess who had claimed Jessica. This one had been beaten down by the god of dead souls.

We’ll see about that, Jessica thought.

She flew to ground level and made a sweep along the perimeter of the room. When she neared the thrones, the fires below them blazed higher as if reaching out to draw her near. She quickly flew past that area and continued her scrutiny of the walls until she found a grate in the floor. Somewhere down there, water dribbled and whispers sifted up to her. Not just from Flidae, but other voices too.

Jessica closed a taloned foot over the grate and gave a strong tug, but the squeal of metal against stone made her cringe. If she yanked the grate out, she’d alert Baglor to her actions.

Then she remembered Baglor shrinking down to the size of a squirrel.

Sometimes the job we do requires something stealthier, he’d said.

She backed away from the grate and imagined herself as a small, chickadee-sized raven. With a whooshing sound, her wings zipped to a tiny size along with her body. She could have fit into a human hand. She didn’t love being so small and vulnerable. Not in this place.

Hopping around the edges of the grate, she worried about what might wait for her beyond it. If she had any hope of seeing Shawn again, however, she had to make the leap.

With a quick glance around to make sure Baglor hadn’t returned, she slipped between the grate’s bars. On silent wings, she descended into the darkness.

****

The plane ride had taken forever. Night turned to day. As he’d sat next to Kole in the cramped middle seat, Shawn had felt every second of the journey. Why hadn’t that plane moved faster? He’d needed something capable of rocket speed to get to Jessica.

Before something terrible happened.

After a car ride from the airport and then a boat ride, Shawn was now standing at the sandy edge of the island Flidae had shown him, the rest of the pack surrounding him. “Now is your chance to back out of this.”

Every single one of them shook their heads and Shawn realized these were the finest people he’d ever known. Even Reardon who had turned him into a werewolf without his consent. That man was devoted to taking care of this pack he’d created.

“This is a great island and all,” Brandy said, “but what does it have to do with the god of dead souls?”

“Surely this isn’t his realm, is it?” Nika gestured to the palm trees and bright flowers behind them, the hot sand lining the coast, and the ocean waves lapping at their feet. “I mean, I want to vacation here.”

Shawn pointed to a cliff about a mile down the coastline—one that was identical to the vision Flidae had sent him at Jessica’s house. “There. We have to go there.”

“Hmm. I figured Baglor’s realm would be down, not up,” Emma said.

“It is down.” Shawn led the group toward the cliff. “That’s the jump point.” It was a little unsettling to be so sure about something he shouldn’t be so sure about. The information Flidae had given him was undoubtedly true though. The island and the cliff were right where she’d shown him. The jump had to be real too.

“Wait a minute.” Kole grabbed Shawn’s arm to stop him. “We have to climb up there then jump? Into the water? Baglor’s realm is under the water?”

Shawn shrugged. “This is what I was told. Do you have any other intel on how to reach an ancient Celtic kingdom that neighbors Hades?”

Kole let his hand drop and shook his head.

“I repeat, no one has to come with me,” Shawn said. “I’m going no matter what, but you all have a choice.”

“And we choose to join you.” Reardon’s voice held all of its old authority, but no one had to be ordered.

“The pack goes where it is needed. Let’s shift. We’ll get to the cliff faster,” Jaemus said as he pulled Nika in close beside him and pressed a kiss to her temple. “Besides, I want to see this beautiful sprite in beautiful wolf form again.”

Nika elbowed him. “I look like any other wolf.”

“Untrue. I’ve never seen a brown wolf with a coat quite like yours. There’s this wavy patch right here.” He patted her ass and she chuckled. “As if your curls won’t quit even in wolf form. And your eyes...”

“Okay, okay.” Nika put her hand over Jaemus’s mouth. “You’ll make everyone sick with your sap.”

Shawn watched the two of them as they shed their clothes, shifted, nuzzled each other, and ran toward the cliff. The other pairs did the same and only he remained in human form. Alone. Wishing for his soul mate. What would he do if he couldn’t find her? How could he go on knowing he’d lost the only person to love him so fully?

Hurry and you won’t have to know. Flidae’s weak voice came to him as an ocean breeze shook the trees and whipped up some sand.

Hope. There was still hope.

He shed his clothes and shifted, still marveling over the return of his left leg and quickly surpassing the other wolves. He was finally whole again. He could be the man Jessica deserved. He would be that man.

The wolves reached the edge of the cliff after a strenuous climb Shawn wasn’t sure he could have made with only three legs. The terrain was steep and winding. His paws had been cut on sharp rocks and all of them had slipped a few times, claws coming out to gain purchase. He peeked over the precipice and scanned the ocean below. Most of it looked the same. Blue, blue, and more blue, stretching to the horizon. Foamy, white tips crashed against the base of the cliff. Driftwood logs bobbed helplessly, traveling farther and farther from the shore.

Squinting his wolf eyes, he surveyed until he found it. A dark spot beneath the surface. Right where Flidae had shown him in the vision. The waves didn’t move there as if an invisible bubble protected the area. If one hadn’t been looking for it, however, it never would have been found.

What are we looking for? Reardon asked, sidling up to Shawn and peering over the edge as well.

Our target is there. The dark spot where the ocean doesn’t move. He motioned toward the spot with his nose.

Reardon’s golden-green gaze searched the water’s surface. He nodded once when he saw it and backed up a few feet, preparing to jump. I will go first.

Shawn blocked Reardon’s path. No. My soul mate. I’ll go first.

Reardon bowed his head. I suppose we’re not on the battlefield anymore.

Though it certainly feels like it, Shawn added.

Aye. Reardon nudged Shawn. We will be right behind you, cousin.

The other wolves formed a line behind Reardon, each of them ready to make the leap. For Shawn. For Jessica. For Flidae. Shawn had been reluctant to join the pack after Kole had found him fighting with the K.O. Club in Appleton. He’d been angry. At Reardon for changing him. At Flidae for banishing him and taking his leg. At Kole for taking so long to find him. At himself for what he’d become.

At leaving Jessica when she’d been so kind to him.

Now, he was grateful he had these wolves. They’d made living in this time bearable. They’d made him see everything he could have if he opened his damn heart.

Well, it was open now, and it would shatter into a million jagged pieces if he didn’t get Jessica back.

On that thought, he backed up a few steps and launched off the cliff’s edge. Salty ocean air filled his nostrils and the distance he dropped screamed by incredibly fast. He hit the surface with a smack and plunged into the watery depths, paddling his legs down, down, down. His lungs burned and all he wanted was to take in a breath, but Flidae had shown him how far he had to go still.

With an extra boost of resolve, he navigated deeper into water that was nearly black. Going on faith, he arrowed down through the darkness until he spotted an opening in a rock wall ahead. Bioluminescent sea critters canvassed the wall, but distinctly stayed away from the opening.

Good instincts. His were telling him to do the same, but he ignored the warnings and squeezed through the opening. On the other side, he fell to the bottom of a dry pit. Water leaked down the walls, but he’d left the ocean behind.

He got to his feet and was about to have a look around when two wolves dropped on top of him, one at a time. Air rushed out of his aching lungs, and he had to wiggle to get a paw out of his face, but he was still glad to see Reardon and Brandy.

The three of them shook the water from their coats and took up positions away from the opening as the rest of the wolves arrived. The pit was crowded by the time everyone was accounted for and the search for a way out involved noses to the perimeter.

Over here, Kole announced, pawing at loose rock. After a few minutes of digging, he had an exit big enough for the wolves to get through. On the other side, they were in another cavern, this one much larger than where they’d been dumped out of the water. Shawn immediately raised his head to sniff the air.

Jessica-scented air.

She was here. His tail wagged without him consciously telling it to do so, such was his happiness at knowing his angel had been in this room. He pressed his nose to the ground and scouted around, finding her scent absolutely everywhere.

Look, Nika said, her body facing a large platform at the other end of the room.

Are those... thrones? Emma asked, coming to stand beside Nika.

Aye, Reardon said. Baglor’s throne and... He turned his golden-green eyes on Shawn.

And what? Shawn demanded.

And his queen’s throne.

How do you know this? Shawn asked.

Flidae.

Letting out a low growl, Shawn bounded toward the thrones, ignoring the warnings Reardon and the others were putting into his head. He climbed the shiny black steps and whined a little when his paws hit the surprisingly hot platform. Angry flames rose up all around the thrones and for a minute, Shawn was completely cut off from his pack. He didn’t care though. All he cared about was the overwhelming strength of Jessica’s scent as he pushed his nose onto the seat of the queen’s throne.

Are we too late? Has he claimed her as his queen? Shawn’s chest ached more than his blistering pads. He couldn’t move from the spot, knowing Jessica had been there. He was about to lower to his belly, some canine instinct in him wanting to sit, stay, and wait for his angel to return. Fortunately, Kole broke through the ring of fire, grabbed the scruff around Shawn’s neck in his jaws, and tugged his brother off the platform.

Your fur is scorched. Kole licked at Shawn’s toasted coat, the light brown hairs blackened at the tips.

Shawn shrugged his brother off. We have to find her.

We will. Kole pressed his muzzle into Shawn’s ear. We will.

Reardon came over with Brandy and the others at his back. Flidae is calling to me. I think she is below this level. She’s saying she’s seen Jessica.

How do we get below? Shawn had seen how to get this far, but his mind was so focused on Jessica that he didn’t know what the next steps were. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else but getting to her, but he couldn’t get to her unless he paid attention. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it and listen to Reardon.

Jaemus found this grate. Reardon led them over to an iron vent in the ground.

Shawn stuck his nose through the bars and inhaled deeply. Aye, I smell Jessica. I also smell so many other scents.

She’s definitely not alone down there, Kole agreed.

How do we get down there? Emma asked as she pawed the grate.

Shawn nudged them all back a bit. He reared up on his hind legs and shifted to wolfman form. Out of all of them, he’d been the one to continue his warrior lifestyle after banishment. In human form, his muscles were large. In wolfman form, they positively bulged. He wrapped his clawed hands around the iron bars and yanked. Yanked. Yanked.

Finally, a loud scraping echoed and bits of rock dust shifted along the edge of the grate. Summoning a reserve of strength he usually used to knock out an opponent in the ring, Shawn heaved once more and the grate popped free of the ground. He tumbled to his back with the grate across his chest, his muscles burning from the strain.

Kole came over and looked down at him. Are you all right to continue?

Aye. But let’s hurry. Someone would have heard all that scraping. Shawn let the grate slide off him and crawled over to the opening. Another long drop. Maybe wolfman form is best for everyone.

Or wolfwoman, Brandy said.

Aye, Reardon said, gesturing to Shawn. After you.

As Shawn maneuvered through the grate opening, the others shifted to their half-wolf, half-human forms. Having hands would be helpful as would being able to land on sturdy, muscular legs.

He let himself drop, wondering how deep into the Earth they were at this point, assuming they were still on Earth and not on some mystical plane that existed independent of everything else. Anything was possible when mixing company with Celtic gods and goddesses. Shawn looked forward to a time when he only surrounded himself with his pack, regular humans, and his angel. He’d had enough of deities toying with him. Flidae had made things right with him by granting him his leg and leading him here, but he would be overjoyed to never hear from her or any of the other deities ever again.

When his large, semi-burned feet hit the floor of this new level, they were soothed by puddles of water. No. Actually they weren’t puddles. It was more like a thin stream of water that flowed to his right. That water had to be going somewhere and it was as good a direction to take as any.

He waited for the rest of them to make it down and silently—more silently than a group of oversized wolfpeople should be able to achieve—they followed the stream until it dumped into a larger pool. Torches ringed the pool and illuminated what looked like cages bordering the water.

Flidae? Reardon called as he stepped farther into the cavern. His eyes glowed as he studied each cage, an ear cocked to the voices. So many voices. That one, he finally said, pointing a clawed finger at the fourth cage from the left.

Shawn led the group around the water, for though the surface was calm and it appeared shallow, something told him not to go through it. He stopped in front of the cage Reardon had indicated, grabbed a torch from the wall, and stuck it through the bars.

The face that looked up at him tore a hiss from his throat. He recognized Flidae’s eyes, but all of her power was... gone. She was a broken shell of herself. Withered. Spent.

Wolf fighter... Those two words taxed her strength.

Reardon pushed past Shawn, ripped the lock off the cage door, and kneeled beside the goddess. He ran his clawed hand along the chain binding Flidae to the back wall of the cage and turned back to look at the rest of them. Help me.

Kole and Shawn squeezed into the cage and all three of them pulled until the chain burst free of the wall. Crouching, Shawn clamped his hands around the metal collar at Flidae’s throat. With a grunt, he snapped the thing in two, the pieces clattering to the floor.

The goddess slumped into Shawn’s lap and he knew why she hadn’t been able to free herself. Her power is almost completely gone.

Baglor... siphoned... Flidae whispered as Shawn carried her out of the cell. And I used some power on you. She pointed a shaking finger to Shawn’s returned leg.

How do we get your power back? Emma asked as she used a claw to gently push the goddess’s hair out of her face.

Surround me. I can draw strength from all of you.

Outside the cage, Shawn held Flidae while the rest of the wolves gathered around. They each put a hand on the goddess and Shawn could feel the moment Flidae drew power from them. Instead of making him feel weaker though, the connection to her and the pack made his own strength intensify.

Aye, my wolves. You are my most powerful creatures. Flidae’s voice was louder in Shawn’s head. The grayness left her skin and the usual glow that shimmered about the goddess returned.

It’s working! Nika’s eyes were a bright green, like lit emeralds.

Flidae turned her attention to Nika. And welcome, new wolf. Your power is helping me most right now for it is wild and free-flowing within you.

Is that a compliment? Nika asked.

A chuckled emanated from the goddess’s throat and Shawn took that to mean she was feeling like her old self. And if that were the case, the time had come for part two of this rescue mission.

Where is Jessica?

Flidae slid from Shawn’s hold, her hand pressing against his chest for support still. She closed her eyes, but when they opened, they were not filled with hope. Her lips turned down and Shawn’s heart struggled to beat in his chest.

“She was here,” Flidae said. “She came to me.”

Shawn whirled around in a circle, his gaze wildly searching the shadowy cavern. Flidae’s hand on his forearm made him focus back on her.

“Baglor found her down here. He wasn’t happy. She’d shifted to a tiny bird and came to me. I couldn’t draw power from her. Baglor blocked me somehow. She shifted to an enormous raven, but Baglor returned before she could free me.”

Where did he take her? Shawn didn’t want to waste another moment. He had to get to his angel. Now.

Flidae gestured to the pool in the center of the room. The tranquil surface rippled now, bubbling like a brew boiling in a cauldron. Steam rose in ghastly curls and a foul odor permeated the air, covering any trace of Jessica’s scent.

When a large silver horn thrust out of the water and the entire cavern rumbled with a roar of something unholy, Shawn knew that pool was a gateway to a place he didn’t want to go.

Chapter Thirteen

All those voices had belonged to other raven shifters. Males. Forced into minionship by Baglor. None of them wanted to be there. Jessica had pushed past their pleas when she’d first slipped through the grate in the floor and had arrived in the room with the cages lining the perimeter. Her first goal had been to find Flidae, which she did easily.

When she’d flown to Flidae’s cage, the goddess had barely been able to raise her head. Jessica had hopped into the cage, her small size making it easy to pass through the bars. She’d gotten close to Flidae, nudged scraggly hair off a pale face, pressed her tiny beak into the goddess’s cheek.

“Ah, little one,” Flidae had whispered. “It will take more than you to save me.”

At that, Jessica had fluttered out of the cage and shifted into the biggest raven that would still fit in the cavern.

“Wonderful. Now hur—” Flidae’s words had been cut off by a loud thrashing behind Jessica.

When Jessica had turned her large raven form around, Baglor had risen from the water in the center of the room. He had been in his true form, and water had cascaded down his huge body as his one red eye narrowed on Jessica.

“I had hoped you’d give yourself somewhat freely to me, raven.” His voice had been all gravel and thunder, the words slightly garbled by his monstrous teeth. “I see now that will not happen.”

He’d raised his arm and aimed a long talon at her. A spark of purple light had shot from the tip and Jessica had involuntarily gone from enormous to tiny. Baglor had reached down and grabbed her in his claws, using them like bars to trap her.

“She... is... mine...” Flidae had managed to pull herself to standing against the bars of her cage.

Baglor had let loose a laugh that made Jessica’s feathers bristle. “You know better than that, wild goddess. You claimed her when she wasn’t yours to claim.”

“Still... I claimed her.”

“Enough! Ravens are mine. They do my bidding. This,” he’d shaken his cupped hands, making Jessica tumble around inside, “this is the first female raven shifter I’ve ever found. You knew she was to be my queen. You knew I had been waiting for her.”

Flidae’s silence had let Jessica know the goddess had indeed understood what she was doing in claiming Jessica before Baglor could. Not that it mattered. She was still here, in line to be Baglor’s queen. Flidae hadn’t been able to stop anything.

And I’m the only female raven shifter? That was news to her. Of course, finding out other raven shifters—and werewolves—existed had also been news.

“Why do you need a queen?” Flidae had asked. “You’ve been doing the job of collecting dead souls for eons on your own. What need do you have of her?”

With a flash of light, Jessica had suddenly been transformed back to a naked human, standing beside Baglor who was in the random male form he’d chosen earlier.

Jessica had quickly pulled her hair forward to cover her breasts, but Baglor had immediately brushed it aside.

“No hiding here, my queen. Your beauty is to be treasured.” He’d turned to face Flidae who was now drooping against the bars of her cage, her energy spent on talking. “Do not pretend not to know what I seek, for you seek it too, wild goddess.”

Jessica had wanted to ask what that meant, but in another flash, Baglor had her in his arms and he’d run for the pool. They’d sunk into the water and the voices of the other ravens turned to loud, desperate caws.

Then things had gone black. Silent. Still. She couldn’t remember what had happened after that. And now she was back through the water and looking at a collection of... of wolves?

The goddess looked totally different, her skin creamy and bright, her jet black hair shiny and flowing. Hollow cheeks had been erased and Flidae was the picture of virility and beauty once again.

The goddess’s power buzzed around inside Jessica. Those wolves regarded her as if they knew her, and somewhere in the foggy recesses of her brain, she knew they did. One wolf, a light brown one with beautiful gray-blue eyes hadn’t looked away from her since she and Baglor had emerged from the water. Its gaze was piercing, but she didn’t concern herself with wolves.

Did she?

No. Ravens were her subjects. She was their queen. Baglor her king. Right now, she could feel every raven shifter locked up in the cages around the room. She had nothing to do with wolves.

Angel...

Jessica shot her gaze around the room. Who had said that? Why did it feel familiar? Shuddering, she pulled the sides of the crimson robe she wore tighter together around her naked human frame. Craning her neck, she looked up at Baglor in his true form as he stomped out of the water and bore down on Flidae and the wolves. He radiated such power, such strength. Power and strength he readily shared with her, his queen.

Angel, can you hear me?

She flicked her gaze to the light brown wolf and its tail wagged when their gazes connected. Foolish mutt. It should be cowering in fear while in the presence of Baglor, god of dead souls. Instead, it wanted to play? How ridiculous.

And yet... she had this unmistakable desire to touch that wolf. To bury her fingers in its thick brown fur. To drop kisses on its wet, black nose. To scratch between its ears until it was a quivering, moaning mass of fur at her feet.

What the hell?

She shook her head and focused on Baglor. Her king. Who was going to punish these wolves for releasing Flidae.

Because they should be punished. Right? Jessica rubbed her temples. She hated being this confused.

“Why don’t we make a deal?” Baglor shifted to human and strode closer to Flidae, garnering low growls from the wolves as they formed a protective barrier between the goddess and Baglor. “You give me all these wolves and I’ll release you.”

Ah, yes. Now Jessica remembered why the wolves were familiar. They had tarnished souls. Baglor wanted to collect those souls. He wanted those wolves dead. Flidae had served her purpose in luring the wolves to Baglor’s realm. She was no longer needed. A simple trade then. One in which Baglor got exactly what he wanted.

What they wanted.

Only Jessica’s attention kept getting drawn to that light brown wolf. He really was a beautiful creature. They all were, but the glowing gray-blue eyes on the brown one, the sheer size of that wolf, the four powerful and muscular legs on which it stood...

Suddenly that wolf shifted into a man—an extremely gorgeous one with muscles everywhere, chin-length brown hair, and a stubble-covered jaw. She... she knew this man.

“Shawn?”

“Aye, Angel. It’s me. You remember?”

She nodded slowly as if coming out of a dream. “You... your leg. You have your leg back?”

“Aye, Flidae granted me one of my wishes,” he lifted his left leg and patted his thigh, “but I have still another wish.” He took a step toward her on confident legs and something in Jessica’s heart broke open.

This was her wolf. Her Shawn. The man she’d rescued from the train tracks. The man she planned to live with in Vermont. The man she loved with every piece of her.

“No,” Baglor said. “That life is no longer yours, raven. This is your life now. Down here. With me. As queen.”

She took a step toward Shawn. “I am not your queen, Baglor. I don’t want to be your queen. I’m sure there is a female raven shifter out there somewhere who is meant to have this job. I’m not her.”

“I say you are.”

Baglor grabbed her around the waist and jerked her away from Shawn who had been close enough to touch. The god’s human arms turned into his dragon ones and he shifted to his true form in the blink of an eye. Towering above Flidae and the wolves, Baglor swung his spiked tail and they all had to scatter to avoid being hit.

Stay with me, Angel. Shawn’s voice echoed in her head as he shifted back to wolf form and lithely averted another swing of Baglor’s tail. Don’t break the connection.

I’m here, she said. He... he did something to my mind when we went in that water. The same thing happened when I sat on the throne.

Fight it, Jessica. Fight it and we’ll get out of here.

Baglor roared and pounded his fist on the rocky ground, causing cracks to splay open and steam to rise from the fissures. “No one gets out of here!”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Flidae waved her arms toward the other cages and with loud clinks that echoed off the walls, all the doors were unlocked. Men stumbled out, but quickly shifted to large ravens. “Heed me,” the goddess called. “Heed me and I will set you all free.”

Deafening caws ripped through the air as each raven arrowed for Baglor. The god easily swept the first few away with a swat of his massive hands, but the ravens were relentless. They kept coming and coming, beaks poised to tear at him.

At first, Baglor’s armor-like scales protected him, but as the ravens hit him again and again, they peeled the scales off to reveal soft flesh that tore easily. He dropped Jessica and she splashed into the water.

Angel! Run!

Jessica jumped at the sound of Shawn’s voice in her head. She knew he was right. She should run, save herself, follow him, the other wolves, and Flidae.

But she couldn’t. Not yet.

She let the crimson robe fall to her feet and stretched her arms out to her sides as Baglor’s furious snarls vibrated the cavern. Her oversized wings came quickly, her ability to shift heightened in this place. While Baglor was distracted anyway. Pumping her colossal wings and hovering, she focused on Baglor, her keen eyesight allowing her to see every detail. She had but one target to aim for and she couldn’t miss. Not if she had any hope of getting herself and the others out of this realm alive.

Despite warnings from Flidae and the wolves, she soared toward Baglor, who was still busy fending off the other ravens. They ripped at his ears and peppered him with hits to his back. All that let Jessica zoom straight for his chest where enough scales had been torn away. She closed her eyes for a moment and heard the fevered drumming of Baglor’s heart.

No, raven. Don’t do it, came Flidae’s voice, but Jessica had made up her mind.

Baglor’s red eye widened at her right before she plunged her beak into his chest. Her talons shredded the black skin, tearing a hole big enough for her to drill into Baglor’s ribs. They broke under her constant hammering, and with a caw loud enough to shake stalactites free from the cavern ceiling, she pierced the god’s heart.

It beat around her impaled beak. A few, weak thumps.

And then nothing.

The rest of the ravens flew away, abandoning wherever they had been attacking. Baglor fell to his beastly knees, black blood oozing out of him and mixing with the water in the pool. He slumped forward, water splashing to the ceiling and spraying the walls before settling back around his body.

Jessica shifted back to human as did Shawn who waded into the water and wrapped his arms around her. He lifted her off her feet and nuzzled his nose into her hair. She could still taste Baglor’s blood on her tongue, but she didn’t care. She was in Shawn’s arms. Where she belonged. Forever.

“I’m afraid that is not how this ends,” Flidae said, her eyes filled with a sympathy Jessica didn’t understand.

“What do you mean?” she asked. “Baglor’s dead. We can all go now.”

The other wolves huddled close to each other, their eyes also full of... pity.

“Aye,” Shawn said. “This is over. Let’s go.” He put Jessica down and tugged on her arm, but her feet wouldn’t move. “Come on, Angel.” He pulled again, a bit more forcefully this time, and yet, she still didn’t budge.

“I can’t.” She stared down at her feet hidden by the water. Nothing was holding her in place. Baglor was still dead. Why couldn’t she follow Shawn?

“The world still needs a god of dead souls,” Flidae said, tears in her eyes. “Or, in this case, a goddess.”

Shawn looked back at Jessica, his hand still wrapped firmly around hers. “No.”

“Should the king die, the queen shall take his place...” Flidae leaned against the big black wolf, Reardon.

“No,” Shawn said again. “Jessica never accepted being Baglor’s queen. She is not responsible for taking on his job.”

“She sat in the throne,” Flidae said. “She, for a time, gave in to Baglor’s invitation.”

“Well, do something about it, Flidae.” Shawn let out a growl through clenched teeth, his eyes glowing. “We’ve given your power back. Do something.”

Flidae actually looked frightened of Shawn for a moment then she squared her shoulders and straightened her back. “These are the rules, wolf fighter. The raven queen must stay.”

Shawn tugged on Jessica’s arm again then tried to pick her up, but the water around them bubbled and hissed. Baglor’s lifeless body was eaten by the water, his entire form consumed, leaving only Jessica and Shawn standing in the pool.

“Go.” Jessica’s voice was raspy, her throat too tight to speak.

“I’m not leaving you, Angel. We came all this way to get you and we’re not leaving without you.” He tightened his grip on her hand.

Tears streamed down Jessica’s cheeks. Killing Baglor had seemed like the perfect solution. How had it brought more misery instead?

“You need to go.” She swept her gaze over the other wolves. “All of you. The men especially.” She could feel Baglor’s duties transferring to her through the water.

Shawn, Kole called. We’ll find another way.

“Listen to him,” Jessica bit out, trying to contain her growing instincts as a collector of souls. “You’re not safe here, warriors.” She risked a glance up to Shawn, her love, her soul mate.

Her next target.

****

Shawn dropped Jessica’s hand the moment power zapped down his arm. He felt it in his chest and his heart did an erratic thud as if it had forgotten its normal rhythm. As if it’d stopped beating for a minute.

Jessica gazed at him with big, dark eyes then looked at the other wolves. “Baglor intended to collect the souls of you Celtic warriors. You’ve all killed in your previous life. Your souls are tarnished and Hell awaits.”

When we die, Reardon said.

“That time is at Baglor’s discretion.”

“Your discretion now...” Shawn took a step closer, but she held up a hand.

“Take them out of here,” she said. “Please go before I hurt you. I don’t want to be responsible for your deaths. If you go now, I can focus on other souls. If you stay, you’re next on the list.”

Her tears cut him. Shawn wanted nothing more than to gather her in his arms, hold her tightly against him, take her from this cold, dark place.

He looked back at Flidae. “Isn’t there something you can do? Anything?”

“A duty is a duty.” The goddess ran her fingers along Reardon’s furry back. “I must protect my wild creatures so we have to go.”

“Protect us?” Shawn let out a harsh laugh. “You didn’t protect us when you banished us. You didn’t protect me when you dropped me on those train tracks. You didn’t protect me when I begged you for my leg back.” He thrust his arm toward Jessica whose beauty had intensified with the transfer of Baglor’s power. Her hair was a dark curtain about her shoulders, her eyes glinting in the torchlight. Her bare skin had an ethereal glow and he half considered handing over his soul right now. She had it anyway. If he had to walk away from her, he’d be dead inside, a mere shell. “You didn’t protect Jessica though you claimed her.”

“I tried, wolf fighter.” Flidae’s voice sounded more desperate than Shawn had ever heard it. “I tried to avoid all this by claiming her. I knew what Baglor wanted. I knew having a queen would make him more powerful. What I didn’t know was how much more powerful than me he already was. Collecting dead souls should have worn him down. I don’t understand how he was able to overpower me.”

“I understand.”

Shawn whirled around to see a muscular man with dark skin, odd hazel eyes, and long black dreadlocks standing on the other side of the water. He wore a black cloak with the hood down. His feet were bare as he waded into the pool. He stopped next to Jessica and bowed deeply at her feet.

“My queen.”

“Who are you?” Shawn’s patience was long gone. He was feeling his ornery self rising to the surface. Without Jessica, he had no reason to be nice. She made him want to be civilized. She made him want to love. He couldn’t imagine existing without her. Maybe the K.O. Club would take him back because all he wanted to do was beat the shit out of someone.

“My name is Lio.” He turned those hazel eyes on Shawn. “I have been with Baglor the longest of all the ravens here.” He swept his arms out to encompass the hundreds of black birds perched around the cavern and atop the cages. Most of them were preening themselves, Baglor’s black blood marring their beaks, talons, and feathers after the attack. “He found me when I was a boy, shifting for the first time and being cast out by my tribe for what I could do. Baglor took me in.”

Lio looked around Shawn now to address Flidae. “The reason Baglor was so powerful was because we ravens did most of his work. He sent us out for the souls, but he rarely went out himself.” He turned back to Jessica. “When he discovered you, however, he trusted that errand to no one. He’d been searching for a female raven shifter for as long as I can remember.”

He held out his arms and four ravens flew down, two perched on each arm. “I will take on Baglor’s duties if you’d like, my queen. These four have agreed to assist me, but the rest can be set free with you. We five have nothing for us outside this realm anyway. Our people are long gone and we didn’t have good experiences out there. We’d prefer to collect souls and keep the balance.”

“That’s a huge sacrifice. I can’t ask you to do that,” Jessica said.

“You are not asking. We are offering.”

“Your offer is appreciated,” Shawn said, taking Jessica’s hand again. When he didn’t feel as if she might stop his heart, he squeezed her hand and got closer.

Lio nodded once. “As soon as the transfer of power is complete, however, you must all leave quickly. The queen is right. You warriors have tarnished souls. You’re all on the list. I will not be able to fight the drive to collect you.”

“Is there a way to get off that list?” Shawn asked.

Lio motioned to Flidae. “Ask your goddess. She may know a way.”

Flidae looked away then said, “Transfer the duty. It’s time we left this place.”

Jessica let go of Shawn’s hand and took Lio’s after the four ravens flew off his arms. “I have no way to thank you for what you are doing.”

“All the ravens who do not wish to be here will be free because of you, my queen. That is thanks enough.”

“But you’ll be stuck here.”

“That is my choice. I am ready for this duty.”

Slowly, Jessica nodded. She turned to Shawn. “Go stand with the others. I have a feeling we’re not going to have much time to get out of here.” She looked at Flidae. “Are you strong enough now to beam us out?”

“Aye.” The goddess let a coil of white mist curl around her feet and those of the wolves. “You’ll need to get over here quickly though.”

Jessica pushed Shawn toward Flidae. “Go. I got this.”

“Angel, I’m not—”

“Go!” Her voice reverberated off the cavern walls, Baglor’s power still coursing through her.

Reardon came over in his wolf form and nudged Shawn toward Flidae. Shift and be ready, cousin.

Without taking his gaze off Jessica, Shawn shifted and backed up with Reardon. The white mist collected around his paws and his heart beat wildly in his chest. If something went wrong... if Jessica didn’t make it over to them in time, he hoped someone was prepared to knock him unconscious on the other side of this realm. He was seriously going to lose his shit if he lost Jessica.

We’re going to be together, she whispered in his head. I love you and I want my forever with you.

I love you too, Angel. So much.

With a smile, Jessica turned to Lio as the white mist rose higher around Shawn. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“The fastest way to transfer the power is through a kiss,” Lio said.

Shawn let out a savage growl and Lio laughed.

“Your wolf doesn’t like that.” He waved a hand toward Shawn. “It’s been ages since I made a joke, wolf. Perhaps that wasn’t funny.”

“It’s also not true, is it?” Jessica asked.

Lio shook his head. “No, this isn’t a place where kisses are magic. Just put your hands on me, envision Baglor’s power as a ball of light, and push that ball into me.”

Shawn didn’t like Jessica having her hands on Lio either, but he kept quiet, hoping this all went down the way it was supposed to. He had visions of welcoming Jessica back that he simply had to make real.

Jessica rested her hands on Lio’s broad shoulders when he slid his robe down, her skin looking rather pale against his much darker flesh. The pool at their feet boiled again as a bright spot grew in size between them.

The white mist rose still higher, almost making it impossible to see Jessica, but Shawn stretched his wolf neck, making sure she was in his sights. He had to be ready to go to her if something went wrong.

“If you leave my circle now, wolf fighter, you can’t come back in,” Flidae said.

He looked up at her, knowing his recent outburst had put him back on her shit list. He didn’t care. He couldn’t think straight until Jessica was safe. Until they all were safe. These wolves were his family and Jessica was his soul mate. He had his leg back. He was so close to having it all.

The ball of light grew larger and more fiery between Jessica and Lio as the white mist rose still higher.

“Good,” Lio said above the caws of the ravens, all ready to fly into the white mist as well. “Now push it into me and be queen no more.”

Jessica closed the distance between her and Lio by embracing the man. A blast of light illuminated the cavern and Lio was thrown back into the water.

“Run...” He pointed a finger to Flidae and the white mist.

“Come, ravens!” Flidae called. “Come all of you who wish to leave!”

Hurry, Angel. Shawn struggled to see as the white mist grew thicker and higher. It swirled like a tornado around them, raven caws filling the air. The noise got so wild, the mist so frenzied, the next thing Shawn knew he was splayed out on the shore of that island, his tongue coated in sand and his body trapped under another wolf.

Kole. He squirmed a bit and pushed his brother off him. When he got to all fours, he surveyed the area, finding the other wolves strewn about and Flidae surrounded by ravens. She touched each one then it set off, flying over the water to its freedom.

Shawn sniffed, searching for Jessica’s scent, desperately afraid she hadn’t made it into the mist in time. He smelled the other wolves and the island fragrances, but he couldn’t pick up the unique scent of his soul mate.

His wolf eyes burned with tears and he let loose a long, low howl. All that and she wasn’t here. Jessica was lost.

He sunk to the sand, his paws over his nose, fully prepared to let the blazing sun bake him to his death.

Something tickled his ear though, and he twitched it forward, back. Why couldn’t he die in peace? When the sensation came again, he lifted his paw to swat at the itch.

Is that any way to treat your soul mate?

Shawn’s head popped up and right by his paws was a normal-sized raven. The most beautiful raven in the world.

He shifted to human as did Jessica and in under a second, he had her naked body in his naked lap, his lips all over her, her arms pulling him as close as possible.

“Angel... I thought... I thought you didn’t make it.” He buried his face in her hair and breathed her in.

“Did you think I’d miss out on forever with you?” She pushed his hair out of his face and cupped his cheeks. “You’re totally stuck with me now.”

“Fine by me.”

He crashed his mouth down on hers, not able to get enough of her taste, her warmth, her everything. His angel was here and he’d never let her go.

Cargo pants and a T-shirt hit him in the head. “I realize this beach is all romantic and shit,” Kole said, standing over them. “But we’ve got plane tickets to buy, aye?”

Jessica immediately grabbed the T-shirt and held it over her chest. “Can’t ride a plane naked.”

“I don’t know,” Shawn said. “I think you should be naked all the time.”

“Yeah,” Emma said. “Because you’d love all the men ogling her, right?”

A low growl rumbled in Shawn’s throat. “No.” He put his arms around Jessica and found Flidae walking toward them, all the ravens gone now. “Anything you can do about some clothes for Jessica?” He shrugged into the cargo pants Kole had thrown at him.

Flidae waved her hand and instantly Jessica was covered in a gorgeous black dress with feathers along the neck. When she got out of Shawn’s lap, a long train of feathers trailed off the back of the dress.

“A gown fit for a raven queen,” Flidae said.

“I’m all set with being a raven queen.” Although Jessica did smooth a hand over the soft, black feathers at her neck. “How about something that says casual artist?”

Flidae frowned. “Fine.” She waved her hand again and this time Jessica was clothed in a pair of black skinny jeans and a white tank top that had a raven in flight image stretched across the front. “Better?”

“Yes. Thank you.” She looked around. “We’d better keep at the journey here, folks. I wasn’t kidding—and neither was Lio—about wanting the souls of you guys.” She pointed to Reardon, Jaemus, and Kole. When she looked at Shawn, her eyes filled. “I hope that day doesn’t come for a long, long time.”

He hugged her, so overjoyed to have her in his arms again. Then he looked at Flidae whose image was fading in a new crop of white mist. “Hey, wait. Lio said you knew of a way for us to get off the tarnished souls list. Do you?”

“A conversation for another day, wolf fighter.” The mist zipped up over her and she was gone.

“I hate when she does that,” Kole said. “Why can’t she ever just give us the information we need?”

Emma came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “I think she likes to see what we’ll do on our own.”

He maneuvered her in front of him and dropped a kiss on her nose. “Luckily we have the good sense to fall in love with our soul mates.”

Reardon and Brandy held each other as did Jaemus and Nika.

Shawn squeezed Jessica. “You ready to go home, Angel?”

“Yes,” she pulled back a little, “but we do have some things to talk about.”

Chapter Fourteen

Jessica sat on the plane next to Shawn who hadn’t let go of her hand. A crease, however, had taken up residence between his brows after she’d told him they had some things to discuss. She’d gotten him to agree to wait for the conversation until they arrived home in Vermont and she’d been busy shielding her thoughts from him. She’d been afraid to sleep, but exhaustion and the dark interior of the plane had won. They’d be off the plane soon and then she’d have only a few hours more before she had to talk about things she’d rather leave behind.

She dozed on the drive to Vermont, only waking when the SUV pulled to a stop in Shawn’s driveway. It would have been nice if the sleep was restful, but it’d been full of nightmares instead. Nightmares she’d actually lived through.

But I lived. That had to count for something. After what they’d all been through, the chat she needed to have with Shawn should be easy.

In theory.

Squinting at the morning sunshine pouring in through the windshield, she angled her body against the passenger door and opened her mouth. Best to toss it out there and sort it all out now.

“No.” Shawn squeezed her hand. “Not yet. I want to welcome you home first...to our home now. Whatever you have to say, whatever you’ve been hiding in there,” he tapped his index finger on her forehead, “can wait.”

He slid out of the SUV and walked around the front of it. He opened her door and scooped her out, cradling her in his arms.

“I can walk, Shawn.” But she looped her arms around his neck and breathed in his woodsy wolf scent.

“I know, but I need you close, Angel. I need there to be no space between us.”

When he said things like that, how could she resist?

With his long strides, they crossed the threshold of his cabin in seconds. He kicked the door closed with his left leg. “It feels awesome to be able to do that.”

“You know, I didn’t get a good look at that new leg.” Her lips twitched up and she absolutely loved the way Shawn’s eyes darkened to an intense gray.

“Let us fix that right now.”

After setting her on her feet, he reached back and pulled his T-shirt off as she unbuttoned her jeans and shimmied out of them along with the panties Flidae had so generously provided. She paused with only the tank top on and watched as Shawn slowly unzipped his cargos and peeled them away from his hips.

Jessica nearly swallowed her tongue at his striptease skills. She had to put her hands to her mouth to keep from moaning aloud when he pulled off his boots, let his boxers drop to the floor with the cargos, and stepped out of everything, a predatory look in those wolf eyes.

She got to her knees in front of him and ran her hands up from his left ankle to his calf to his knee. When she reached his left knee, she leaned forward and pressed her lips there.

“Can you feel that?”

The groan that sifted out of him as he slid his fingers into her hair was answer enough. So was his arousal begging for her touch.

She kissed a line up his thigh over his hip and across his taut stomach. “You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever met, Shawn McMannus. And the most beautiful wolf.”

“I’m glad you think so. It would be terrible if I repulsed you.” His last word came out on a shaky whisper as she closed her hands around his erection and stroked him.

“Nothing repulsive about you. Nothing. There never was.” She gazed up the length of his body, feeling so incredibly lucky to be there with him. When she thought about being stuck with Baglor’s duties...

“Hey.” Shawn’s big, warm hands were on her shoulders. “You don’t have to think about that anymore. You’re safe here. You’re with me.”

“I can’t be with you all the time.” It had been so easy for Baglor-disguised-as-Brandon to get to her. Maybe Lio would decide he needed a queen too.

I don’t like women, Lio’s voice whispered in her head, a hint of amusement to it. You are truly free, raven.

Oh. Well, that was wonderful news.

She looked up at Shawn, but it didn’t appear he’d received that news too. Instead his thoughts were still considering the fact that he couldn’t be with her all the time.

“We’ll get a dog,” he said. “A big, mean German Shepherd who will love us and the pack, but scare the shit out of everyone else.”

Sensing his comfort in that plan, she nodded, not opposed to some canine protection. Who knew what other forces were out there? A few days ago, she hadn’t realized werewolves, Celtic deities, and other raven shifters existed. Any number of supernatural catastrophes could befall them.

But right now, Jessica pushed all that out of her mind. Shawn wanted to welcome her home and she intended to let him.

He pulled her to her feet and she made sure to rub her front against his along the way. A shuddery breath slipped out of him right before he captured her mouth and kissed her as if his life depended on it.

It does, Angel. It does.

Shawn tugged off her tank top and discarded it onto the pile of clothes on the floor. Then he leaned down and grabbed the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up and wrapping her legs around his waist like a belt.

She didn’t waste any time clamping onto his neck with her hands and feasting on that fabulous mouth of his. The stubble at his jaw scraped along her lips as she traveled across his cheek and nibbled on his earlobe.

“So welcome me home already,” she whispered, burrowing her nose into his hair.

On a low growl that vibrated through her, Shawn carried her down the hallway to his bedroom. He climbed onto the bed, one arm still firmly around her, pressing her naked body against his. Kisses rained down on her neck and when her backside finally touched the quilt on his bed, she made sure to pull him down with her.

He went to work kneading her breasts with his rough, callused hands, eliciting moans and needy whimpers from her. When his mouth closed over one of them, she writhed beneath him, wanting to get closer, wanting him inside her. Wanting to surround him, claim him, make him forever hers.

“I am yours,” he rasped.

When he pushed slowly into her, she dug her nails into his shoulder blades and arched up against his muscled chest. The angle allowed him to go deeper, touching her in places that ached for him. His patient, easy rhythm unraveled her and before she knew it, she was shattering all over him, a million pleasure-filled bits floating like confetti or fairy dust or magic.

With a few more slow pumps into her, Shawn found his release and gave a hoarse shout of her name as he collapsed atop her, his big, strong body blanketing hers.

She kept her legs firmly wrapped around him, her feet crossed at the small of his back inches above that fabulous ass of his. If she had her way, she wasn’t ever letting go.

He laughed against her, his slight beard scraping pleasantly against her shoulder. “We won’t be able to do this again if you don’t let go.”

“Good point.” She loosened her hold enough so she could look at his face. “I love you. You know that, right?”

“Aye, I do. You’ve shown me many times since we’ve met. I wasn’t always open to the love you wanted to give me, but I am now, Angel. I am now.” He eased out of her, his retreat almost as blissful as his entry. Kissing the tip of her nose and playing with a coil of her hair, he settled beside her. “And I want to return that love. Every day. For the rest of our lives.”

She ran her foot up his left leg and loved the grin that bloomed on his face, letting her know he felt her touch. Felt it and wanted it. Needed it.

He slid his arm across her stomach and tucked her in close. “Marry me, Angel.”

Jessica’s body stiffened.

“What’s wrong?” Shawn rose up on his elbow to look down at her. “Don’t you want to marry me? I’ll get you a ring. I promise. I don’t have one right now, but we’ve been rather busy and—”

She stopped him with a hand to his cheek. “I want to marry you, you foolish wolf.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I’m already married.”

Gray-blue eyes blinked at her, his mouth slightly open as if he had no words to reply. He shook his head. “What... what do you mean? Already married? To whom?” His eyes flared now, a powerful, jealous light making them both beautiful and intense.

Jessica wiggled to sitting and moved over to create some space between them. This wasn’t a conversation to have snuggled all close. “To Brandon Knight.”

“Who the fuck is Brandon Knight?” Shawn was sitting up all the way now too, his face a wild mix of anger and... hurt.

“Let me start by reiterating the fact that I love you, Shawn. With everything I am. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you.”

His eyes softened a bit and he took her hand in his, resting both in his lap. “Tell me the whole story.”

Nodding, Jessica corralled her hair over one shoulder, noting how Shawn’s pupils zipped open at the way the strands cascaded over her breast. She could smell his arousal and took that to be a good thing. He still wanted her. She only hoped he’d still want her after she told him about her previous life.

“I met Brandon when I was young and stupid,” she started. “I shifted for the first time with my high school boyfriend as I already told you, but after that I pretty much avoided relationships. I was afraid. Of what I was. Of who I might hurt. Then Brandon came along when I was in college studying art. He was charming, strong, intelligent.”

A growl rumbled in Shawn’s throat and his eyes had gone back to that glowy fierceness. The hand holding hers tightened and when she looked down, she saw that his claws had come out.

“Sorry,” he said around lengthened canines. “Give me a minute.” He closed his eyes and she heard him thinking about control. A few seconds later, the claws retracted and when he spoke again, his teeth had returned to their human size. “I don’t like hearing that you were attracted to someone else, but of course you had a life before we met. So did I. Quite a different one. You accepted that I was a warrior—a killer. Surely I can grant you the same acceptance.” He opened his eyes and they no longer glowed. “About the part where you’re still married to him though...”

“Right.” She wet her lips and wished she had told him all this when they’d first met. She hadn’t known she would fall so hard for Shawn though. She hadn’t known if she could trust him with her secrets or her heart.

Clearly she could.

“Brandon and I got married right after I graduated college. He owned a prosperous ranch in Arizona and we were doing okay. I kept my raven shifting abilities to myself and everything was... normal. Until Brandon started using me as a punching bag.”

Shawn sprung from the bed and paced around it, his beautifully naked body rippling with barely contained power. “He hit you? He put his hands on you in a way that hurt you?”

She nodded as he let out a hoarse growl, his teeth making an appearance again, his claws flicking out like switchblades.

“Does he still live in Arizona?” He kept up his pacing as if it were the only thing keeping him from erupting.

“According to Baglor, yes. Baglor used Brandon’s image to approach me at the festival, which totally freaked me out. I’ve made a second career out of making sure I was hidden from Brandon.” She got to her knees and scooted to the edge of the bed, putting a hand on Shawn’s bicep as he passed. He stopped and she waited for him to make eye contact. The storm she saw in his gaze physically hurt her. “Calm down.”

“I am calm,” he gritted out.

She put her hands on either side of his face. “You’re two seconds from going wolfman on me.”

He shook his hands out, but the claws remained. “The thought of anyone, anyone, hurting you makes me downright feral, Angel.”

Leaning forward, she brushed her lips against his, careful to avoid the sharp points of his fangs hanging below his lower lip. “Well, I left him. It took me a while to figure out I deserved more than bloody noses and bruises. I had to plan my escape carefully, but I did it. I came to Maine and never looked back. I started a whole new life. Brandon never found me, though I did worry about it every day. Still do, actually, and unfortunately, the way I left means I’m still legally married to him.”

“So you can’t be legally married to me.”

She shook her head. “But... how do you have all the legal stuff you need to function in this time anyway? I mean, you came from the past.”

He waved a clawed hand. “Flidae somehow took care of all that. When you found me on the train tracks and I had a wallet on me...that was her doing.”

“Think she can whip up some divorce documents? Ones that are signed already?”

Shawn angled his head, and Jessica heard him ask Flidae.

I would love to help, wolf fighter. Flidae’s voice was soft. But bringing all of us back from Baglor’s realm has taxed me. Besides, I get the sense you want to handle this one, don’t you?

Jessica looked up at Shawn, whose jaw was clenched tight. “No. You’re not handling this.”

“One little visit,” he said. “One little visit and I’ll make sure you never worry about Brandon Knight ever again.”

****

Shawn hadn’t wanted to start his life with Jessica by completely ignoring her as she begged him not to go to Arizona, but he had to go. He had to make sure her ties to that asshole were severed. Completely. Forever.

“I’ll make sure he has no idea you’re in Vermont, Angel,” he said as he picked up his clothes from the floor and dug his phone out of the pocket of his pants. First he called Reardon and asked him to handle getting divorce documents from a lawyer friend Brandy had. Then he called his brother when Jessica announced she was taking a shower.

“Aye?” Kole’s voice was scratchy, and Shawn realized sleeping is probably what they all should be doing right now after recent events.

“I know you’ve just risked your life for Jessica and me, but I need one more favor,” he said.

“I’ll do it.”

“I didn’t say what it was yet,” Shawn said.

“Doesn’t matter, Shawn. You’re my brother and whatever you need, I’m going to do.”

“You’ve always been the better of the two of us.”

“Glad you’ve finally come to accept that universal truth.” Kole chuckled. “Now why are we going to Arizona?”

“Couldn’t pluck the rest of it out of my brain?”

“I’m tired, brother. Cut me a break.”

“Jessica’s husband is in Arizona. We need to make him an ex-husband, and maybe scare him a little.” Shawn went on to tell Kole about Brandon’s treatment of Jessica and how she escaped. “Every time I think about it, I want to take the guy out to a battlefield and use him for spear practice.”

“So you need me to be the logical one then? Got it. I’ll call for flights and come over.”

“Thanks, Kole.” Shawn’s throat got a little tight over how willing his brother was to support him on this... even if Jessica didn’t.

“No problem. Two werewolves are always better than one. See you in a bit.”

Shawn hung up and padded to the bathroom where Jessica’s sexy outline was visible behind the shower door. Quietly, he eased open the door and slid in behind her.

“You can’t sneak up on me.” Her words held a note of pissed off in them as she lathered shampoo in that gorgeous mane of black hair.

“I know.” He took over washing her hair and sifted out a breath when she let him. “Don’t be mad at me, Angel. You know, as a wolf and a warrior, I have to deal with this guy. I won’t be able to relax until you are free of him. Truly free. Free to be mine.”

She leaned her backside against his front and he let his sudsy hands glide down her arms to rest at her flat stomach. “And I love you for that. I really do, Shawn, but there has to be a better way than you marching down there—with Kole. Yes, I heard you call him.”

“The only other thing I can think of is mailing him the divorce papers, but that would involve including a return address—either ours or the lawyer’s. We could also call the police and file official charges.”

“But that will take time. Time neither of us wants to waste. Not to mention I don’t want to do the whole court thing. I want to leave Brandon in the past where he belongs.”

“Aye. So Kole and I make a quick trip, be extremely... convincing, and then you and I can get married.” He nipped along her slick shoulder, drawing in her delicious scent, craving her even though they’d just made love earlier. He wanted her again. He’d always want her.

“I should come with you.”

He stopped tasting her skin. “Absolutely not.”

She turned around and coasted her arms up his chest. “Brandon is my problem. I should be there.”

“Your problems are my problems and this one I can handle.” He encircled her with his arms. “I will feel much better knowing you are here. At home. Safe.” He bit his lower lip. “I asked Emma and Kylie to stay with you.”

She fisted her right hand and thudded it against his chest. “I don’t need babysitters.”

“Consider it peace of mind for me. Together, Emma and Kylie are a wolf and a half’s worth of protection. You can have some girl time and before you know it, Kole and I will be back.”

“Fine.” She swiveled back toward the spray of water and stepped under it, squeezing the suds out of her hair. “But be careful. If Brandon has continued his ranching life, he’s probably still pretty strong.” Absently, she rubbed her jaw and a vision of Brandon punching Jessica there flashed into Shawn’s mind.

A low rumble sounded in his throat and Jessica flicked her gaze up to meet his.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to picture that.” She pulled her hand down, letting it hang by her side.

Shawn drew her in close again. “I hate that you had to go through that, Jessica. I hate that you had to deal with Baglor. I hate that you’ve been in danger on too many occasions. That stops now. Today. We only have happiness ahead.”

She hugged him and dropped a kiss on his chin. “I hope you’re right.”

Three hours later, Shawn was on another plane. This one was headed to Arizona and Kole was again squished by his side.

“Why haven’t the smart people of the future figured out a way to make more room on these birds?” Kole stretched his leg out into the aisle but had to pull it back in when a flight attendant bustled by with her cart.

“I suppose we should be impressed they figured out how to fly in the first place.” Shawn went back to looking out the window. Everything looked so tiny from this height and he wondered what was out there to see in the world. He’d been dumped by Flidae in Maine, traveled down to New Hampshire, then to Vermont, but that was it.

Kole, on the other hand, had been around.

“When you were looking for me,” Shawn started, “where was the best place you visited?”

Kole angled toward him, a slight grin on his face. “I’m sure Emma would want me to say Vermont because that’s where I found her, and don’t get me wrong, that was amazing, but...” He looked up to the ceiling, thinking. “I’d have to say riding my motorcycle over by the Grand Canyon was pretty breathtaking.” He scratched at his close-shaven head. “Actually, this entire country is gorgeous, each section in its own way.”

“I have a feeling I’m not going to like Arizona though.” Every time Shawn thought about Brandon Knight having his hands on Jessica, the wolf inside him wanted to rip through his flesh and roar. Seeing the lad in person was probably a terrible idea, but he had to do this. For Jessica. For the life they deserved together.

“I’ll be there to keep you cool, brother.” Kole clamped a hand on Shawn’s forearm. “And if we both happen to lose our cool... oh, well.”

Shawn knocked his fist against Kole’s then let it rest on his left thigh.

“That’s got to feel amazing, aye?” Kole motioned to his leg.

“Aye. I didn’t think I’d ever be up and around on two real legs again.”

“Or four.” Kole elbowed him. “Flidae has her moments.”

“When she wants something.” He couldn’t forget all the times he’d asked her to return his leg.

“But everything you went through brought you here.”

“On a plane with my brother, preparing to rough up my soul mate’s husband so I can marry her?”

Kole rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. The circumstances brought you Jessica, not to mention a reunion with the pack and the promise of a good life ahead.”

“Aye.” Shawn did have a great deal to be thankful for. “I wonder how Erik is faring. How can we find him?”

Erik Rheagan was the best swordsman in Reardon’s army. One powerful swipe of his blade and no opponent was surviving the day. Being a werewolf only intensified his strength, though they hadn’t gotten the chance to see everything he could do with the... enhancement.

“I’ve been thinking about him as well. If we find him, the core pack is complete,” Kole said. “After this little errand, let’s brainstorm with the others about Erik.”

Nodding, Shawn went back to gazing out the window. He must have fallen asleep because the next thing he knew, Kole was jostling him.

“They’re kicking us off. Let’s go.” Kole grabbed the two bags they’d each brought as carry-ons then let Shawn out into the aisle ahead of him.

Both brothers had to duck a bit, their heads barely clearing the exit, and Shawn had to chuckle at the three old ladies behind them.

“They’re huge,” Number One said.

“Tall and wide,” Number Two added.

“And I’ve never seen behinds like those,” Number Three said with a girlish giggle that got the other two going.

Nice to be appreciated, Kole thought.

Shawn grunted then tossed a look over his shoulder at the ladies who all averted his gaze as if they weren’t up to anything. When they finally looked up at him and he gave them a quick smile, their faces beamed red as they smiled back.

“Lordy, Annabelle,” one of them said. “His front is as great as his back.”

“Gracie, that’s way too much front for you to handle.” Annabelle shook her head. “It’s way too much for all three of us to handle together.”

Another round of giggles rose up from the trio before they gave him a wave and continued on to baggage claim. For some reason, seeing those women reminded him of his mother. If she hadn’t died in childbirth when he was a boy, what would she have been like as an older woman? Would his father have stayed on land more and not died in a shipwreck? Would he and Kole never have joined Reardon’s army if they’d had a family?

Again, our experiences—strange as they’ve been—put us here. Here is good, Kole said as they exited the airport and were blasted with a temperature not unlike the heat emanating from under the thrones in Baglor’s realm.

“Gods...” Shawn said, digging a pair of sunglasses out of his bag and donning them.

“See? We should be thankful we ended up in Vermont where it’s not hotter than Hades.” Kole guided them over to a rental car place and secured a Jeep. “Motorcycles were tempting, but we’d probably melt. This vehicle has air conditioning, another advancement of the future I like. Quite a bit.”

“Aye.” Shawn climbed in the passenger seat and typed the address Jessica had given him for Brandon’s ranch into the GPS.

Forty minutes later, Kole pulled the Jeep to a stop in front of two huge, open wooden gates that said Knight Ranch above them.

“Guess he still lives here,” Kole said.

“Lucky for us.”

“Unlucky for him.” Kole arched an eyebrow, a slight smirk on his lips. “Let’s do this.”

Shawn surveyed the area. Wooden fencing stretched out on either side of the gates for as far as he could see, curving to make a loop around the entire property he assumed. A dozen or so horses in a variety of colors milled about in fields beyond an enormous barn. Behind that, a large house, blindingly white in the blazing sun, sat atop a hill. A few tractors and other big equipment were parked haphazardly on dirt driveways, and a collection of chickens pecked at the ground by the gates.

The entire scene looked harmless, but Shawn knew an asshole walked around freely on that property. An asshole who had caused his angel to bleed and fear for her life. An asshole who was still technically her husband. An asshole who most likely solved all his problems with his fists.

“Maybe you should stay here,” he said. “You know, keep the Jeep running.”

“What? To make our getaway? Since when do the McMannus brothers back down from a fight?”

“Since one of them has a lady and a child at home who would skin my hide if anything bad happened.” The thought of Kole not returning to Emma and Kylie was too tragic to even consider.

“Have faith, little brother,” Kole said, squeezing his shoulder. “This is going to be easy.”

Shawn hoped Kole was right. A little easy would be nice after all the hard they’d endured recently. Grabbing the envelope containing the divorce papers, he opened the passenger door and got out. “Let’s get it done then.”

Kole climbed out of the driver’s seat and met him at the front of the Jeep. “Did Jessica tell you what Brandon looks like?”

“Aye.” Shawn reached to his back pocket and pulled out his phone. “She gave me this picture.”

Kole glanced at the screen then looked up. “Okay. Good. Here he comes then.” He pointed beyond the gates where a man walked down the dusty path toward them. “Direct approach. I like that.”

Shawn squinted in the sun, noting the lad’s size, the pointed toes of his cowboy boots, the scowl on his clean-shaven face, and the dirt smears on the white T-shirt tucked into a pair of faded and torn jeans. He also took in the rifle resting on the man’s shoulder as he continued toward them.

Touching the brim of his black cowboy hat, the man stopped in front of them and leaned against one of the open gates, his rifle sliding down to rest by his right leg. He narrowed his brown eyes at them. “Something I can help you guys with?”

“We’re looking for Brandon Knight.” Shawn’s fists tightened at his sides despite Kole’s mental warnings to stay calm.

“Well, you found him. What do you want?”

Before Shawn could say more, five more lads about Brandon’s size strode down the path. Each of them toted a rifle—and an attitude—as well.

So much for easy.

Chapter Fifteen

“This is the best blueberry pie I’ve ever eaten.” At Shawn’s kitchen table, Jessica shoveled in another piece and closed her eyes as the sugar-coated blueberries and the buttery crust melted in her mouth.

“Gran makes the best pies,” Kylie said, a blue stain at the corner of her mouth that caused Emma to wave a napkin at the girl.

“Do all her pies taste this amazing?” Jessica asked. If anything was going to take her mind off the fact that the man she loved was traveling to Arizona to shake down her monster of a husband and force him to sign divorce papers, this pie was it.

“Aye,” Emma said. “Apple, pumpkin, lemon meringue... you name it, Gran can make it better than anyone around. Her crust is magic or something.” Emma cut another sliver of the blueberry pie and plopped it onto her plate. “I’ll never fit in my wedding dress if I keep eating like this.”

Jessica refilled their glasses of milk. “When is the big day?”

“October eighth,” Emma said. “Invitations are ready to be mailed.” She pumped her fists in the air above her head.

“Can’t change your mind now,” Kylie said.

Emma tugged on the girl’s blonde ponytail. “I’m not changing my mind, lass.”

“Good.” Kylie beamed a smile up at Emma and this incredible longing built in Jessica’s chest.

What would having a child be like? She couldn’t wait to find out. She was a little concerned about her... condition being passed down, but Shawn had told her shifters could have perfectly normal children.

“Just don’t have seven of them, the seventh being born in December under a full moon. That’s how I got to be a werewolf,” Kylie said. At Jessica’s open mouth, the girl looked down at the rest of her pie. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to listen. I’m still trying to figure out being a werewolf.”

Emma squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “It’s okay, pixie. We all have a hard time not listening.”

“It is okay.” Jessica patted Kylie’s hand. “I’m not sure what being a raven shifter is all about yet either.”

“Have you always been one?” Kylie asked.

“Since I was sixteen,” Jessica said. “You obviously found your wolf side much sooner than I found my raven.”

Kylie nodded. “Yeah, it just happened.”

“It must be hard for you sometimes.” Jessica remembered how scared she had been when she’d first shifted. At least Kylie had the pack and adoptive parents who were werewolves. What Jessica would have done to have that support.

“That does make it easier,” Kylie said. “But it can get tough at school when I have to keep it together.” She gave a little shoulder shrug. “Except around Dylan. I can be myself around him.” At the mention of the boy, Kylie’s whole face brightened.

Could soul mates find each other at such a young age?

“Slow down.” Emma’s hands came up. “She can’t think about soul mates until she’s at least thirty.”

“Mom.” Kylie rolled her eyes. “You like Dylan. Remember?”

“I do. He’s a great kid, but you two are just friends until Kole and I say otherwise.” Emma looked over the child’s head at Jessica, a panicked look in her eyes.

Jessica smiled. “If you guys are soul mates, you can wait.”

Kylie nodded and pushed her pie around her plate. “Sometimes Dylan dreams about wolves.”

“He’s always been around them, hasn’t he? At the sanctuary?” Jessica finished her pie and waved Emma off when the woman wanted to give her a refill.

“Yeah,” Kylie said slowly, “but the dreams are about werewolves too. Some of them are about me.” She finished up her pie then washed it all down with her milk. “I’m going to be a flower girl in the wedding.”

“How wonderful.” Jessica clapped. “Do you have a dress? What does it look like?”

Emma slid her phone across the table. “This kid could be in the movies. Look how gorgeous she is.”

Smiling, Jessica picked up the phone and scrolled through pictures of Kylie in a purple dress that was fitted around the torso but flared out at the waist and billowed like a Disney princess gown. “Oh, my. Stunning, Kylie. Absolutely stunning. And you’ll curl all that lovely blonde hair, right?” Jessica got up and started fussing with Kylie’s hair, piling it atop her head and letting tendrils frame her face. “Something like this, maybe?”

“Aye, definitely,” Emma said, her eyes going a little misty. She waved her hand in front of her face. “Sorry. I get all...all...” She clasped her hands at her heart. “You know.”

“Here she goes,” Kylie mumbled.

“I just never thought I would have all this.” Emma gestured to Kylie with her open arms. “I’ve got this beautiful, intelligent, entertaining lass.” She leaned over and smacked a kiss to Kylie’s cheek. “I’ve got a nice home in a state I love near my Gran and a music career that’s finally, finally going somewhere.” She grinned at Jessica. “And yes, I see those Hendrake CDs in one of your boxes of stuff over there and that excites me to no end.” She picked up her phone again and swiped the screen. When she turned it to face Jessica, a picture of Kole, looking pretty damn hot in sunglasses and sitting astride a motorcycle made Jessica grin. “And I get to be this guy’s wife. I mean, what more could I want?”

“A puppy?” Kylie raised hopeful eyes.

“I don’t need a puppy,” Emma pinched the lass’s cheek. “I’ve got you.”

“Ha-ha.” Kylie stuck her tongue out at Emma. “Then I want a baby brother or sister.”

“Deal.”

Jessica loved watching Emma and Kylie interact. It fascinated her. And almost made her forget where Shawn was and what he was doing.

Almost.

“Can I call you Auntie Jessica?” Kylie asked. “I call Brandy and Nika aunties.”

“Absolutely.” Though Shawn would have to be successful in his quest with Brandon for it to be really true. “I’ve always wanted to be someone’s auntie.”

“Don’t have any brothers or sisters?” Emma asked.

Jessica shook her head. “No. My parents had me. Freaked when they found out what I was and they split up. Neither one of them wanted custody, but my mother finally accepted it. I stayed with her for two years, then left when I was eighteen. They’ve both passed away now.”

“I’m sorry that’s how things turned out for you,” Emma said. “Not all parents are awesome. This I know.” She reached for Jessica’s hand across the table.

The contact made Jessica feel like part of the pack even though she wasn’t a wolf.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kylie said. “This pack accepts everyone who needs accepting.” She popped off her seat, having finished her pie and milk. “Movie marathon next or nail painting?” She held up two bags she’d brought in with her, one in each hand. “I’ve got the first season of The Vampire Diaries in here, which Mom says I’m old enough to watch, and plenty of Midnight Dreary black nail polish in here so we can get all gothic.”

“I think I’m going to love being your auntie.” Jessica took their dishes to the sink. “Get the show going and we’ll polish as we watch.”

“Toes too!” Kylie kicked off her flip-flops and raced into the living room.

“It’s almost working,” Emma said as she wiped the kitchen table.

Jessica wrapped up the rest of the pie and put it in the refrigerator. “What is?”

“Taking your mind off what Shawn and Kole are doing.” Emma washed her hands at the sink then turned to face Jessica. “Those two have each other’s backs. They’ll be fine.”

“It’s who has Brandon’s back that I’m worried about. He doesn’t play fairly and his ranch hands are big.” She knew because on more than one occasion, some of those very ranch hands had held her while Brandon socked her in the stomach. She never could understand their blind allegiance to the douchebag because he didn’t treat them very nicely either.

“Oh, honey...” Emma pulled her into a hug. “How did you manage to survive?”

“Lots of ice and an artist’s eye for using makeup to cover bruises.”

Emma stepped back. “Well, you’re safe now and always. Shawn would do anything for you.”

“Clearly.” She huffed out a breath. “Even things I don’t want him to do.”

“How else were you going to get Brandon to sign those divorce papers? Did you have another plan? One that didn’t involve you having to see him again?” Emma put her hands on her hips. The black shorts she wore made her legs look extra long and the purple tank top that said Why yes, I do bite across the front created a more casual vampire look than what Hendrake usually sported. Though the band had toned down their sound with their new releases, they kept a touch of the Celtic vampire flavor and as an artist, Jessica loved the look.

Except when her new friend was saying things that were right and logical and took the steam out of Jessica’s griping. “Okay. I know. There wasn’t another good choice. All the choices stunk.”

“The one involving Shawn and Kole going to Arizona together stunk the least.” Emma led Jessica into the living room where Kylie had the DVD in and the bottles of nail polish lined up on the chest that served as a coffee table in front of the couch. “They’ll be home before we know it.”

“Until then,” Kylie said, bouncing on the cushion next to where Jessica had taken a seat, “we have a fun sleepover!”

“She’s never had a sleepover,” Emma said. “Can you tell?”

“Never had a sleepover, huh? Well, that means I need to break out my fancy nail kit then.”

“What fancy nail kit? What do you mean? Where is it?”

Kylie launched off the couch to follow Jessica as she went to some of the boxes she’d managed to bring in from the SUV earlier in the day. She rummaged around in a few and burrowed under canned goods, winter boots, a jumbled ball of colorful socks.

“Jeez, this is what happens when you pack in a hurry,” she mumbled as she weeded through a collection of wind chimes she’d had hanging in her Maine studio, paintbrushes, twinkle lights... “Oh! Here it is!” She held up a small, pink storage bin and jiggled the contents. “For a very, very brief time, when I first moved to Maine, I worked at a salon doing nail art. When my pottery business took off and I quit, the owner let me keep the nail kit. She was this beautiful French woman who wore high heels every day to work. Every day.”

“I’m too clumsy for high heels,” Kylie said, taking the storage bin from Jessica and returning to the living room.

“Me too.” Jessica sat next to the girl and popped the lid off the bin. “So if we want a true gothic look, we’ll need some Blood Red and Supernatural Purple nail polish.” She dug those out of the bin. “And the silver pen for some Celtic knotwork. What do you say, gals?”

“I say me first.” Emma waved her hands at Jessica as she slid to her knees in front of the chest.

Jessica moved to the other side of the chest as did Kylie.

“I want to see how you do it. Can you teach me?”

“What are aunties for?” Jessica handed the girl a small towel. “Spread this out on the chest. We don’t want to make it gothic. I don’t think Shawn will appreciate that.”

For the next hour and a half, the three of them beautified their finger and toe nails and watched The Vampire Diaries, pausing every now and again to wish they lived in Mystic Falls and to drool over Damon.

Jessica only checked her phone a few times—or a hundred—to see if Shawn had called. He hadn’t. Was that a good sign? Were he and Kole on their way back home already? Had Brandon signed the papers without a fuss? Maybe he wanted to be free of his legal ties to her too. Maybe he had a woman he wanted to marry.

Ugh. That thought made Jessica want to send out a warning to all women everywhere. Brandon Knight was not husband material. She wished someone had given her that warning when she’d met him.

On the other hand, perhaps not hearing from Shawn was a bad sign? Maybe Shawn and Kole were completely outnumbered by Brandon and his goon ranch hands.

Maybe Brandon had struck first.

She glanced over at Kylie who had fallen asleep between her and Emma. The child had her head in Emma’s lap and her feet—with elaborately-painted toenails—in Jessica’s.

In the darkened living room, Jessica couldn’t see if Emma was asleep too. Was she wondering if Kole was all right?

“Aye,” Emma said softly. “As much as I believe in him, I can’t help but worry too.” She fiddled with Kylie’s hair and the girl snuggled up closer to Emma. “I think they must be fine though. I feel as if the soul mate bond would tell us if something bad had happened, you know? Like Shawn had known something bad had happened to you back in Maine.”

That sounded logical to Jessica and she’d cling to it until Shawn came through the door of his cabin.

****

“Look we don’t want any trouble,” Shawn said, holding up his hands in what he hoped was a peaceful gesture, even though every muscle in his body wanted to leap at Brandon Knight. “We have some papers for you to sign.”

“What papers? I don’t know of any papers that need my signature.” Brandon squinted at Shawn then Kole as if he were trying to remember them.

“We haven’t met before,” Shawn said. “But we have a mutual acquaintance.”

“Do we now?” Brandon spit into the dirt then glanced at his lads who had formed a semi-circle behind them. “Who might that be?”

Shawn didn’t want to have to say her name to this asshole. He didn’t deserve to share air with her name, but Brandon would see it on the divorce papers anyway. “Jessica.”

Brandon’s casual, aloof demeanor completely dissipated. He pushed off the gate, his eyes darkening as he took a step closer. “You know where that whore is?”

Shawn growled and Kole clamped his hand onto his forearm, tugging him back.

“Aye, we know Jessica,” Kole said. “And from what we’ve seen, she’s the furthest thing from a whore.”

Brandon let out a short laugh, his lads smirking behind him. “Trust me. She’s a dirty little whore.”

“Call her a whore one more time and kiss your teeth goodbye.” Shawn’s voice was a grizzly rasp. Containing his primal instinct to rip this guy to shreds was getting harder by the second. He barely had control of his wolf.

“You think you can knock my teeth out before we put bullets in you?” Brandon shifted his gaze to Kole. “Both of you?”

Shawn released another low growl, but Kole took a slow step forward as if he were a wolf approaching prey.

“Look, we don’t need to get nasty here,” he said.

“You’re the ones showing up on my doorstep, starting trouble.” Brandon shrugged. “We were just working, same as any day.”

“This has already taken up too much valuable time.” Shawn’s jaw clenched so tight to keep his canines from lengthening. He held up the envelope. “These are divorce papers. Sign them, we’ll be on our way, and no one gets hurt today.”

Brandon motioned to the guy closest to him and that lad walked over to Kole and Shawn. He took the envelope and brought it back to Brandon.

“So the bitch thinks she can run off, hide from me all this time, and then send you two turds here to clean up her legal mess? Real classy.” Brandon slid the papers out and frowned at them.

“And a husband who hits his wife is real classy too,” Shawn said.

Brandon flicked his dark gaze up to meet Shawn’s. “Some women need disciplining.”

That was it. Shawn launched forward, vaguely aware of Kole shouting at him. He grabbed Brandon by the neck and knocked him into the gate like he was a ragdoll.

Brandon’s men were on him in a second, their rifles all pointed in his face.

“No one wants to go to jail today, does he?” Kole slid between two of Brandon’s men and looked down the barrels of several rifles.

Get out of here, Shawn thought. They could pull the trigger.

Exactly, Kole said. Then our soul mates are left without us. We can’t end up dead today.

“You’re sleeping with my whore, aren’t you?” Brandon stood toe-to-toe with Shawn, his heartbeat not even accelerating a little. Shouldn’t he be at least minimally concerned about the beating Shawn was so ready to give him? How ready were his lads to pull the trigger?

“Jessica. Is. Not. A. Whore,” Shawn said. “I want to marry her and I can’t do that if she’s still married to a prick like you.”

Brandon gave him a toothy grin. “No, you can’t, can you?” He wiggled the divorce papers still in his hand and shook his head. “I want to see her.”

“Not happening. Ever.” Shawn backed up a step, rifle noses poking him in the back. He folded his arms across his chest, mostly to hide his hands which were seconds away from sprouting claws. This lad was pushing all his buttons, and part of Shawn’s brain was calculating if he and Kole could take all six of these assholes successfully. The odds weren’t good, but he was getting closer to risking it.

Let’s keep cool heads here, brother, Kole said. Something tells me the laws don’t apply this far out from the nearest police station. What’s to stop these bastards from shooting us dead and burying the evidence?

Nothing, Shawn agreed. He didn’t like it, but Kole was right. They had to be the ones to take the high road because these assholes weren’t going to.

“If I can’t see her, I’m not signing these.” Brandon pushed the papers at Shawn who grabbed them before they fell to the dusty ground.

“Why would you still want to be tied to her?” Kole asked. “You haven’t seen her in years. You know she doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. Sign the papers, lad.”

“Jessica has chosen to move on with her life. She deserves that chance.” Shawn hoped Brandon Knight possessed a sliver of decency.

“She deserves a good, rough fuck, and a smack across that pretty face for misbehaving.”

The laughter that echoed from Brandon and his men made Shawn see red. He opened his mouth and let out a roar. He was done with this game. Raising his hand, his fingertips tingling with claws ready to burst out, he prepare to convince Brandon to sign those damn divorce papers, but a bright red flash beyond Brandon’s shoulder had everyone turning to see what had happened.

Lio strode toward them from up the path, energy crackling around him.

Two of Brandon’s men dropped their rifles, one ran away, and the last two swore as they backed up.

Brandon stood still, bold as ever.

He’s either stupid or... stupid, Kole thought as he tugged Shawn away a few steps and studied his face. Keep the wolf in check, brother.

Shaking his hands, Shawn nodded, but his gaze never left Brandon.

Lio stopped a few feet before Brandon. He was in a human form, but he was bigger than most humans and his irises were red. The remaining ranch hands fled, and Kole and Shawn picked up the discarded rifles, turning them on Brandon from behind.

Nodding a greeting to Shawn and Kole, Lio held his arm out and a raven flew from the clouds above to perch there. Three other ravens followed, taking up posts on the gates.

Brandon gave the birds a glance, but he had no way of knowing what those raven shifters were capable of so his bravado only intensified.

“Who the fuck are you?” He glared at Lio.

Aye, stupid, Shawn said, glancing to Kole.

Lio shifted into an enormous raven, his eyes flaring red, his beak filled with jagged teeth. His talons were like sword blades and covered in dried blood. The new god of dead souls had been busy.

“I am here to collect you, Brandon Knight,” Lio said, the words sounding strange coming from a raven.

Shawn sniffed the air, discovering that Brandon finally had the sense to be afraid.

“I... I... don’t understand...” Brandon stammered.

“There have been a great many things you haven’t understood over the course of your inconsequential life,” Lio said. “And your day of reckoning is here.”

Brandon grabbed at his chest, his breath coming in short pants. His mouth opened and closed as if he were a fish out of water, marooned on a wooden dock in the hot sunshine. “Am I... am I dying?” He fell to his knees, his cowboy hat popping off his head and rolling away in the dirt.

“You’ve been dying a little bit every day,” Lio said. “Same as all the other humans. Unfortunately, you haven’t been using your days in the best possible way, Brandon Knight. Your sins are many. Your soul is dark, unredeemable.” The giant raven shuffled his wings, sending up a cloud of reddish dust. “Your soul is mine and heading straight to Hell.”

“And you want it now?” Brandon wheezed.

“No time like the present.” Lio shifted back to human and picked up Brandon’s hat, settling it on his own head.

Shawn would have laughed if he wasn’t still trying to keep himself from shifting and taking a bite out of Brandon’s neck.

Bet he tastes like poison, Kole said.

Lio smiled, letting them know he’d heard Kole. “My job is to collect your tarnished soul, Brandon, however...”

Brandon looked up at the god as he struggled to breathe on all fours now. “However?”

Lio strode over to Shawn and held his hand out for the envelope which Shawn handed to him. “One signature and I could be persuaded to delay your demise.”

Brandon looked over his shoulder at Shawn, his eyes narrowed slits. “How are you doing this?” He sat back on his heels and flipped his hands up to inspect his own palms. “Was there something on those papers? Some hallucinogen or something?” He stared at Lio. “You’re not real. This is all bullshit to get me to sign those divorce papers. I’m not doing it.”

Fuck. Shawn wanted to get back to Jessica. Get back to her with good news. Returning to her without those papers signed was not an option. They were going to be married. By law. This bastard wasn’t going to stand in their way.

He let his claws slide out of his fingertips behind him, ignoring Kole’s mental warnings. Before he could slice into Brandon, Lio held up a hand.

“You think I’m not real, human?” After shoving the divorce papers back to Shawn, Lio bent and grabbed Brandon by the hair, pulling a shout from the man. He yanked him to his feet and pinned him against the gate. He ratcheted his arm back and launched a fist into Brandon’s stomach.

Brandon keeled over instantly, and Lio didn’t give him a chance to recover before he brought his leg up, pulled Brandon down, and rammed his knee into the lad’s face. Blood hit the dirt at Brandon’s feet, staining the leather of his cowboy boots.

On unsteady legs, Brandon wobbled until Lio grabbed his shoulders and straightened the man only to land a left hook into his jaw. The smack of fist against face made even Shawn cringe.

Ouch, Kole said. Mental note... do not piss off the god of dead souls.

“Always good advice.” Lio turned his attention back to Brandon. “You believe I’m real now? Is that blood real enough for you?”

Brandon could only nod as he spit more blood out and rubbed his jaw.

“So signing those papers, yes?” Lio motioned to Shawn. “Get the man a pen.”

Shawn shook a pen out of the envelope and gave it, along with the divorce papers, to Lio again.

“Thanks so much for changing your mind,” Shawn said.

“We do appreciate it,” Kole added.

Brandon glared at the pen and paper Lio held out to him. “If I sign those, you guarantee I won’t die?”

“Not today anyway. You will of course eventually die. All creatures must.” Lio shrugged. “But if you sign those, I can guarantee that today will not be your last.”

“How do I know you won’t come back for me tomorrow?” Brandon took the pen and clicked it over and over as he accepted the papers.

“You don’t, but isn’t one more day better than no more days?”

Shawn had to fight now to not grin. He enjoyed watching Lio toy with Brandon. He probably should have been fearful in Lio’s presence, but after what the shifter had done for Jessica and what he was still doing for her—and him—Shawn couldn’t find that fear. Was it possible to be friends with the god of dead souls?

Anything’s possible. Lio gave Shawn a wink.

Brandon’s gaze scanned over the papers he held in his shaky hands. With a mumbled fuck, he scribbled his name on all the signature lines and threw the papers at Shawn’s feet.

“Here. Enjoy the whore.”

Slowly, Shawn picked up the papers and gave them a quick perusal.

“Everything in order there?” Lio asked.

“Appears to be.” Shawn stuffed the papers back into the envelope then held out his hand to Lio. “Thanks again for your help.” Did gods shake hands?

“Your Jessica gave me what I wanted. For that she gets a favor.” Lio took Shawn’s hand and clasped it between his.

“We see it as you did her a favor.” The god’s power crackled around Shawn.

Lio shook his head. “I’ve wanted to be free of Baglor for ages.” He shifted back to raven form, choosing the size of a normal raven this time and flying over to one of the other ravens, the one who had been on his arm. After nuzzling that raven, Lio angled his head at Shawn.

Go. Be happy.

In a flurry of black feathers and caws, Lio and the other ravens took to the skies. Within moments, they were nothing but specks against the blue sky.

“So...” Kole said. “We have what we need, aye?”

Shawn wiggled the envelope. “Aye. We do.”

“Time to leave then. We’ve got lasses waiting for us.” Kole looked down at Brandon still on his knees on the dirt path. “Do we need to do something about this?”

“How I’d love to.” Shawn’s desire to hurt Brandon Knight hadn’t dissipated one bit. His attitude today—combined with the years he’d abused Jessica—made Shawn want to give this lad what he had coming to him. “But I suppose justice will be served when Lio comes back for his soul one day. Eternal damnation seems to be appropriate payback, aye?”

“If not, we know where he lives.” Kole started for the Jeep.

Shawn took another moment to regard Brandon. “Have a nice life, bastard... whatever’s left of it anyway.”

Brandon slowly got to his feet, blotted at the blood still running from his nose, and brushed the dust off his knees. He picked up his hat Lio had discarded when he shifted back to raven form. Shaking it out, he placed it on his head and rubbed at his bruising jaw.

Shawn braced for the lad to start something, but instead, Brandon turned around and walked up the path toward the house on the hill.

Defeat was a word Shawn had seen in action many, many times as a warrior, but he’d never been so happy to see it as he was right then.

Chapter Sixteen

Jessica snapped awake and darted her gaze around her surroundings. A living room. Shawn’s living room. Their living room. Vermont. She rested her head on the armrest of the couch and stared up at the ceiling, inhaling and exhaling slowly, evenly, trying to settle herself. She was exactly where she was supposed to be.

Thank God.

She’d had the most horrible nightmare that she was back in Arizona with Brandon. In the wretched dream, she’d been mucking out a stall in the barn, chatting pleasantly with the palomino in the neighboring stall. Suddenly, a great weight barreled into her and flattened her to the stall wall. Rough, splintery wood dug into her cheek. Hot breath moistened her neck as Brandon spoke.

“Found you, Jessica.”

He wrenched the rake from her hands and spun her around. Ripping off her clothes, he did what he normally did—made her feel like absolute filth. What made it worse was that his asshole ranch hands had been watching in the dream... as they had in real life.

Shaking her head now, she attempted to clear the remnants from her mind. She didn’t have to worry about that shit any more. She was here in Vermont. She’d found Shawn. Her life was going to be great.

As soon as Shawn came home.

Jessica reached to the chest coffee table and picked up her phone. She bolted upright and let out a little shout, startling two lumps on the other couch in the living room.

“What’s happening?” Emma brushed her hair out of her face. “Oh. Right. I forgot we were here.”

“Why did you shout, Auntie Jessica?” Kylie stretched out her legs and arms, reminding Jessica of a puppy.

She held up her phone. “Got a text from Shawn.”

“And?” Emma eased to the edge of the couch, Kylie beside her.

“Did they do it?” Kylie asked.

Jessica grinned. “The text says Devil signed. Heaven awaits, my angel.”

Emma put her hand to her heart. “Wow. Didn’t know Shawn had the ability to be so poetic.” She gave Jessica a warm smile then chuckled. “You are positively glowing, girlie.”

Jessica’s cheeks heated. She couldn’t wait until Shawn walked through that door with those signed divorce papers. She was free. Free! The last tie to Brandon Knight had been severed forever. Nothing bound her to that jerk any longer.

“Did we fall asleep?” Kylie asked.

“Guess so,” Jessica said.

Kylie frowned. “You’re not supposed to actually sleep at a sleepover.” She rolled her eyes. “We were supposed to stay up all night, but we didn’t even make it through the third episode of The Vampire Diaries.” An adorable pout turned down the corners of Kylie’s mouth. “We were supposed to party.”

Jessica and Emma laughed as Kylie folded her arms across her chest.

“She mimics Kole’s mannerisms perfectly,” Emma said. “He puts his arms exactly like that when he’s peeved.”

Kylie dropped her arms, her frown deepening. “This isn’t funny. It was my first sleepover and I slept through it!”

Jessica held out her hand and wiggled her fingers. When Kylie took it, Jessica tugged her to sit beside her. “It just means we’ll have to have more sleepovers until we get it right.”

“Do-over sleepovers,” Emma announced.

Kylie’s face brightened. “Really? We can do it again?”

“Of course.” Jessica put her arm around the girl and pulled her in close, feeling like a true auntie—and loving it. “We’ll have so many sleepovers, you’ll get sick of them.”

“Promise?”

Jessica held her pinkie finger out and Kylie hooked hers onto it. “Promise.”

Kylie threw her arms around Jessica and squeezed. Had she ever been squeezed like that? With such innocent love?

“She’s an amazing hugger, isn’t she?” Emma came over to the couch and joined in.

“Indeed.” Jessica backed up a bit and was about to further compliment Kylie on her expert hugging skills when the cabin’s front door opened. The man who filled the entryway stole every ounce of Jessica’s attention.

She launched herself off the couch and nearly killed herself running to Shawn. He caught her around the waist and crushed her up against him, his stubbled face pressing against her neck. His scent surrounded her and she’d never smelled anything so delicious.

“Angel,” he rasped, tightening his hold on her.

“You did it,” she whispered into his ear before pulling her head back and devouring his mouth.

They kissed for she didn’t know how long before she became vaguely aware that Kole was waiting to get into the cabin.

“Sorry, Kole!” She tugged Shawn out of the way.

“No problem. You both deserved that moment right there.” He set his sights on Emma and walked over to her in two large strides. “Hey, Beauty.”

“Miss me, Beast?” Emma slid her arms around Kole’s shoulders while Kylie hugged him from behind.

“Nope.”

“Jerk.” Then they were kissing just as crazily as Jessica and Shawn had before pulling Kylie between them, a snug little family.

We’ll have that too, Shawn thought as he fingered the ends of Jessica’s hair. He held up an envelope. We’ll have that because we have this.

Jessica grabbed the envelope and slid the divorce papers out, having to see for herself that Brandon had indeed signed them. She looked up at Shawn. “You must be magic. I never thought he’d sign them.”

“We had help,” Kole said.

“Help?” Emma lowered her brows. “From who?”

“Lio showed up.” Shawn set the papers on the kitchen island and put his arms back around Jessica as if he couldn’t bear to not be touching her. I can’t, Angel. I have to hold you. I have to taste every inch of you.

“Okay, okay,” Kole said, clapping his hands and giving them a stern look. Let’s watch what we think around the wee one, aye?

“I can hear you,” Kylie said. “I’m not wee.”

Kole tugged on her ponytail. “You are wee.”

“At what age do I stop being wee?”

“Forty-six.” Kole nudged her. “Get your stuff. Let’s go. I’m hungry and you’re going to make me breakfast.”

“Okay!” Kylie sprung into action, all her grumbling about being wee vanishing.

“Is that why you adopted her?” Shawn asked. “To have a minion?”

“Hey, that minion makes a mean French toast.” Kole rubbed his stomach then clapped Shawn on the shoulder. “Besides, you and this lass need to celebrate.” He winked then ushered Kylie to the door.

Emma slipped on her sandals then stopped to hug Jessica and Shawn. “Come over later. We’ll get everyone together and rejoice.”

Jessica and Shawn stood in the doorway, watching them leave.

“How soon is too soon to undress you and worship that amazing body of yours?” Shawn nibbled on her neck as he stood behind her.

“I’m not certain what the protocol is,” Jessica said as she leaned back, enjoying everything about how close Shawn was, “but I’d say we’re good to go right now.”

“Thank the Goddess.” He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, banging the door shut with his hip. “I couldn’t wait to get home to you.”

“I’m glad this is home.”

“And it is a home now. With you here.”

He carried her down the hall to his bedroom and dropped her on the bed so she bounced. Twice. Not waiting another moment, he peeled off his T-shirt, pulled off his boots and socks, and shed his cargo pants.

Jessica licked her lips, loving the view and anticipating having her hands all over everything he’d revealed. “You’re my hero, Shawn McMannus.”

“Hero is a strong word. It’s also probably too good to apply to me.”

She got to her knees and shuffled to the edge of the bed, calling him over to her with a curl of her finger. “A hero is someone who saves someone else. You’ve saved me, Shawn. From my past and promised me a future. I love you so much.” She wrapped her arms around him, letting her fingers wander over the muscles in his shoulders.

“I don’t know where I’d be right now if you hadn’t made that train stop.” Shawn cupped her face and brushed his lips against hers in the softest of kisses. “If anyone is a hero here, it’s you, Angel.”

“Okay, so we’re both heroes.” She rested her forehead against his. “Now undress me and make love to me.”

“Gladly.”

With a slight glow in his gray-blue eyes, Shawn stripped her of her clothes, his big hands gentle and warm. He kissed her absolutely everywhere, making her skin buzz with anticipation as his stubble lightly scraped along her flesh. When his mouth closed over a breast and his tongue swirled around her nipple, she arched closer, her nails digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer, making sure he didn’t stop.

She drew him onto the bed and rolled him to his back. Climbing on top of him, she shifted only her arm into a raven wing. She plucked out a long, black feather then shifted back. Running the feather in slow circles on his chest, she grinned when he sucked in a breath, his eyes darkening with desire. She traveled down his ribs and his abs tightened while his rock-hard arousal pressed against her hot, ready core.

“If I don’t get inside you right now,” he said, his voice hoarse, “I might cry.”

“Hmm.” Jessica angled her head at him. “I might like to see that. Big Alpha-type werewolf warrior crying.” Crying because he wanted her so much. She’d seen him cry once before when he’d learned of his lost leg. She never wanted to see that crying again.

“It won’t be pretty. I promise you.” He reached up and grabbed the feather from her hand. “Stop teasing me, Angel, and let me in.” He pushed his hips up a bit so his erection rubbed against her folds, and she was more than ready to grant him full access.

Jessica rose to her knees then settled herself on his length, both of them moaning in pleasure. How was it possible to feel this connected to another person?

Soul mates. Shawn’s voice caressed her mind, and she almost couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t present there. Maybe I was always there. Even when I was in my time.

She liked the sound of that. Perhaps they had always been connected. One thing was for sure—they always would be. As long as Jessica’s heart beat, she would love this man, her wolf.

“I make the same vow, Angel. Our time together will be amazing.”

He settled his hands on her hips then wiggled his own, burrowing in deeper and pulling a sigh from her. They moved together in a familiar rhythm that sent Jessica to a place where nothing mattered but the sensations coursing through her body. She arched her back, riding Shawn and enjoying every touch, every kiss, every thrust.

Soon, both of them were panting, sheens of sweat glistening on their naked bodies in the morning sunshine streaming into the bedroom. Jessica had never felt so alive, so happy, so completely free. All her fears of Brandon finding her, of him dragging her back to Arizona, of being a prisoner in her own life, had been wiped away.

By Shawn.

She’d had the guts to run from Brandon and find a new life, but in all honesty, that life hadn’t truly started until she’d met her soul mate. The fact that he was something more than human like her only made him more perfect.

“Glad someone thinks I’m perfect,” he whispered, his eyes closing as they rocketed to release.

Jessica cried out his name as she came apart atop him. She clung to him as he followed right behind her. When he finished, he sat up, still firmly buried inside her, and captured her mouth for the most thorough kiss she’d ever received in her life.

“Be prepared to be kissed like that often.” He kissed her again, his hands sliding up into her hair, making her lose herself in his touch.

“I can live with that.”

“I hope so.” Slowly, he slid out of her, causing a full body shudder to ripple through her. “Stay right here.”

Before she could protest, he slithered off the bed and disappeared down the hall. Not loving his absence, Jessica made a move to follow him.

“You’d better be staying right there, Angel,” he yelled from the living room. “You don’t want to spoil the surprise, do you?”

“Surprise?”

He laughed, a deep sound that rubbed her from the inside somehow. A sound she wanted to hear every day.

When he came back into the bedroom the sight of his gorgeous body had her wanting a second round. She gripped the quilt beneath her to keep from leaping at him.

“You don’t ever have to hold yourself back, Angel.” He opened his arms then angled his right hand at himself, his left hand hiding behind his back, his mind curiously blank to her. “All this is all yours. Whenever you want it. Wherever.”

“Good to know.” She bit her bottom lip and tried to see behind him. “I believe you mentioned a surprise of some kind. Did I hear that right?” The bugger was blocking his thoughts from her.

“Aye, you heard right.”

Shawn held out his right hand to her and pulled her to her feet so she stood in front of him. After a deep, sensual kiss that nearly knocked her off her feet, he sunk to his left knee and opened his left hand to her.

A small box sat on his big palm. He wiggled it at her so she picked it up.

“I have an important question for you, Jessica Fairheart,” he said.

Jessica’s hands went to her mouth. “I have an important answer for you.”

Smiling, he opened the box to reveal an absolutely stunning ring. A round diamond resembling a full moon sparkled up at her. It was attached to a band fashioned out of silver to look like a single feather that curled around to meet the diamond on either side.

“Where did you find a ring like this? It’s so unique.” Her finger literally itched to wear it.

“Maybe a group of ravens told me where to find it.”

“I didn’t know ravens had such good taste.”

“I think when you save them from a life of servitude, they generally want to see you happy.”

“There’s only one thing that will make me truly happy.”

“Me too.” Shawn freed the ring of its box and held it between his thumb and index finger. He took her left hand in his. “Marry me, Angel. Spend forever with me.”

She hooked his hair behind his ear and traced the contour of his jaw. “I’ll spend an infinite number of forevers with you, my love.”

He pushed the ring onto her finger then immediately pulled her into a hug. One where his head nuzzled her stomach and his arms let her know he’d never let her go. He’d always be by her side.

Always.

****

Shawn stood outside Kole’s cottage, his hand firmly wrapped around Jessica’s. Around his angel’s. His soul mate’s. How he wished they could have stayed at his cabin, alternating between cuddling and making love all day and night.

Jessica’s elbow jabbed him in his side. “We’ll have time for that.”

“Never enough time.” He kissed the top of her head, loving the wildflower smell of her hair and the silky feel of it against his lips.

“Don’t be selfish now.”

“Are you saying you don’t want to spend all your time with me?” He put his free hand to his chest as if wounded.

Jessica pressed herself against his front, the bottle of wine she held squished between them. “Now you’re being crazy. I want to spend all my time and then some with you.” She freed her hand from his grip and wiggled her ring finger in front of his face. “Agreeing to marry you proves that.”

He took her hand and kissed that ring finger. “Let’s start planning a wedding as soon as possible.”

“Eager?”

“Aye. Desperately.”

Her smile lit him up inside. “I want something simple. No big fanfare. Something quiet and natural. In the woods maybe?”

“That sounds perfect, Angel.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “But if you want something bigger, we can wait and save up some—”

She put her finger to his lips. “I don’t want something bigger. I did that once and it was meaningless. It wasn’t me. It was what Brandon’s family wanted.” She let her finger slide down. “Ravens and wolves love the woods. We should celebrate our love in the woods.”

“Plenty of woods around here.”

Jessica nodded. “We’ll make it happen exactly how we want it to.”

The door to the cottage opened and Kylie smiled up at them. “Hiya! What are you doing just standing out here?”

“They’re hoping you have salt and vinegar chips.”

Shawn turned around to see Dylan walking up the path, Brandy, Reardon, and Meredith close behind him.

“You know I don’t like salt and vinegar chips.” Kylie’s hands went to her hips, but the smile she gave Dylan revealed the kids were teasing each other.

Dylan held up a bag. “That’s why I brought salt and vinegar chips.” He glanced at Shawn and Jessica. “You guys like them, right?”

They both nodded and Dylan looked around them at Kylie. “See? You’re supposed to like them. Everybody likes them.”

“I’m not everybody.”

“Good for you,” Jessica said, taking a step into the cottage and putting her arm around Kylie.

“Stand up for what you believe in, sweetie,” Meredith said, following them inside.

“Even if you are horribly, horribly wrong,” Dylan added as he entered behind them.

“I heard that,” Kylie said.

“You hear everything.”

Shawn looked back at Reardon and Brandy who had caught up to him at the door. “Is it me, or do they sound like an old married couple?”

“Scary, isn’t it?” Brandy shook her head.

Shawn let her pass ahead of him then shook hands with Reardon.

“I’m glad everything went well in Arizona,” his cousin said.

“Aye.” Shawn ran his hand through his hair. “It almost didn’t.”

“Guess it’s good to make friends with gods.”

Kole appeared at the door as Jaemus and Nika arrived. “Lio was way more convincing than we were. Of course, we were trying to be nice.”

“We don’t know how to do nice, do we?” Jaemus asked.

Nika laughed. “For a bunch of warrior werewolves, you guys do nice just fine.” She patted Jaemus’s arm then went inside the cottage, leaving only the men outside.

“Since she’s been turned,” Jaemus said, his gaze still locked on Nika as she wandered into the cottage, “she’s like a hundred times more attractive to me. I almost can’t stand here and let her walk away.”

“Aye, it’s like that for all of us,” Shawn said. “Even though Jessica is a different animal, the pull to her is hard to keep in check.”

The four men stood in a circle, similar to the way they had countless times around fires built after a day of slaying enemies. They wore jeans and T-shirts instead of armor now and all had women who loved them, but that unmistakable brotherhood that only came when having each other’s backs in battle was the same. It’d been gone for a little while, especially for Shawn, but he was happy to have it returned.

No doubt reading his thoughts, Reardon clamped a hand down on Shawn’s shoulder. “I hope this means we’ll always have each other’s backs.”

Shawn nodded. “Aye, but hopefully things stay settled now.”

“And how settled are things?” Kole arched an eyebrow, a wide smile on his face. “Settled as in there’s an engagement ring on Jessica’s finger?”

Jaemus and Reardon clapped Shawn on the back at the same time, nearly knocking him over.

“Congratulations, cousin,” Jaemus said. “You got your leg back and a hot lass. Not a bad deal.”

“Aren’t you glad I talked you into coming to Vermont?” Kole puffed out his chest. “Aren’t you glad I’m always right?”

Before Shawn could answer with some insult, a feminine cheer rose up from inside the cottage, then Dylan came outside.

“That was loud,” the boy said, rubbing his ears. “Did Jessica scream like that when you asked her to marry you?”

Shawn shook his head. “No, she kept herself under control. Probably saved it all up to let it out with the other lasses. You know how lasses are.”

“Yeah. Weird.” Dylan stuck his hand in the salt and vinegar chip bag he held and chomped noisily on a chip. He offered up the bag to the assembled men and they all took a handful.

The summer night was quiet except for firefly song and the crunch of salt and vinegar chips. As far as rituals went, it wasn’t very sacred, but the bond it solidified was important nonetheless.

“To the pack,” Reardon said.

“May it stay strong,” Jaemus added.

“May it keep expanding.” Kole held up a chip then popped it into his mouth. “We have to find Erik.”

“Agreed,” Reardon said. “We also have a construction company to get underway.”

“About that...” Jaemus dug in the front pocket of his jeans and pulled out his phone. “One of Nika’s customers wants to make renovations to her house.” He scrolled through pictures of an outdated kitchen, living room, and dining room area. “She lives right here in Canville. Figure it would be a good place for us to start.”

“Excellent,” Kole said.

“Thanks to Jessica not wanting to be paid back,” Shawn said, “we have the funds to get going right away on this job.”

“We need somewhere to set up a base though,” Reardon said.

Jaemus held up his phone again. “Thought about that too.”

“My, you’ve been a busy little wolf,” Shawn said, knocking his shoulder into Jaemus’s.

“Hey, I can’t help it if I’m the industrious one.” Jaemus tapped his screen a few times then angled his phone so the others could see it. “This building is on Waverly Street, behind Canville High School. I’m told it used to be a warehouse, so it has a good amount of open space inside. You lads want to check it out tomorrow?”

Several ayes rose from the group, and Shawn loved the sense of direction, of purpose, he felt being among his kin.

“Okay,” Kole said. “Enough business and bullshit. We have another engagement to celebrate.” He ushered them inside. “Emma and Gran have made enough food to feed an army.”

“Lucky we’ve got one then,” Reardon said.

“I sure don’t miss hunting for all our food,” Shawn said. “Maybe you should have turned us into wolves years ago, Reardon.”

“There is a lot to love about this time, aye?”

Shawn nodded. He wouldn’t have believed he’d find a home—and love—in this time, but he had both now and he planned to do everything in his power to keep them.

As soon as he found Jessica across the living room, he felt the pull to go to her. When her gaze flicked up to his and she grinned, he would have walked through fire to be by her side. Fortunately, he didn’t need to.

You already did, Jessica said. In Baglor’s realm. You didn’t let anything stop you from getting to me.

If I was really good, I wouldn’t have let you go back to that damn table at the art festival alone. That mistake could have cost me.

Jessica said something to Gran who she’d been conversing with, then excused herself to go to him. She pointed to his leg. “Maybe you got more by not coming with me to that table.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his head so he could look directly into her eyes. “This leg is just a leg, Angel. You’re my heart. Can’t live without my heart.”

Her smile stretched wide across her lovely face. “You say the best things to me.”

“The best thing I’ll say is I do.”

Jessica did a little dance around him which he instantly wanted to be a naked dance. She shook her head and tapped her temple before looking around at everyone.

Be careful what you think. Everyone has access unless you block them.

Then we’ll need to get out of here soon. No way was he going to last among other people for too long tonight. Not when all he wanted was to be alone with his angel.

“Nice job, Uncle Shawn.”

He looked down to see Kylie standing beside them. “On what?”

She grabbed Jessica’s hand and held it up. “This. Silly. It’s so pretty.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

“If you need a flower girl, I’m available and I’ll have had experience after October. Just saying.” She walked away, pretending to drop flower petals from an imaginary basket on her arm.

Jessica laughed. “I sure do like that kid.”

“I’m pretty sure she likes you too.”

“We all like Jessica,” Emma said, handing Jessica a glass of wine and Shawn a beer. “Now, let’s eat.”

Conversation and laughter flowed around the table Emma and Kole had set up in the dining room, and for a few hours, Shawn just enjoyed being with his brother, cousins, and some of the most remarkable women he’d ever met. Women with the capacity to civilize a pack of warrior werewolves.

Not an easy feat.

He was about to take another bite of his dinner when, all at once, the shifters at the table perked up their ears.

“What just happened?” Dylan asked.

“Not sure,” Meredith whispered, “but I’ll bet it has something to do with this.” She pointed down to the dining room floor where a white mist had collected.

“Oh, dear...” Gran looked worried as she put her teacup back down on the table.

She doesn’t know what we are, Emma said, a panicked look on her face.

“Aideen, you mentioned that quilt you’re making,” Meredith said suddenly. “I’d love to see it. Can we go up to the inn and take a peek?”

The mist dissipated slightly and Gran blinked. “My quilt. Aye. Let’s go have a look-see.”

Kole helped her to her feet and Meredith took over. “Dylan, you want to come?”

The boy stays, Flidae said.

Brandy put her hand on Dylan’s shoulder. “He’s going to help us clean up.”

Meredith hesitated for a moment, but then guided Gran to the front door. Once they were gone, the white mist collected again, and Flidae was among them.

“You’re looking well,” Reardon said.

And it was true. The beauty Flidae normally radiated was back in full force. Her raven hair was full and flowing. Her skin had its pale luminescence back. The ruby-colored dress she wore with real roses at the neck showed off a body full of strength and power.

“A little rest after being abducted by Baglor will do wonders,” the goddess said. Her gaze shifted to Shawn and Jessica. “Congratulations, wolf fighter and raven lass.”

“Thank you,” Jessica said. “For giving Shawn his leg back too.”

Flidae smiled. “He was willing to aid in my escape from Baglor. Such a thing should be rewarded.” The goddess looked around the group and settled her gaze on Dylan. “But I really came to see the boy.”

Chapter Seventeen

Brandy looked calm on the outside as she kept her hands on Dylan’s shoulders, but Jessica could hear her panicked thoughts.

Please, don’t hurt my boy. Please. He’s all I have of my sister.

Surely, the goddess didn’t mean to take Dylan from Brandy, right?

Flidae floated closer to Brandy and Dylan as Reardon moved up behind them. The goddess flicked her gaze to Reardon. “Relax, wolf. I do not wish to harm the boy. The opposite in fact.” She beckoned for Dylan to come to her.

The boy looked back at his mother then took a step forward, but Brandy wouldn’t let go of him.

“I’m okay, Mom,” he said.

Reardon put his hand over Brandy’s so she slowly let go of Dylan, and the boy walked to Flidae.

Jessica held her breath. Between all the thoughts whizzing about everyone’s heads and the erratic thump of her own heart as she watched Dylan get closer to the goddess, she almost couldn’t keep from jumping in front of the boy. When had she gotten so protective of these people she barely knew?

The moment they made you part of their pack, raven lass, Flidae said without looking away from Dylan, you became tied to them. It is a bond that runs almost as deep as the soul mate bond. You’ve seen what they are willing to do for you.

She most definitely had. None of the friends she’d had back in Arizona would have traveled to Baglor’s realm to rescue her. Even Brandon, who had considered her property, hadn’t tried all that hard to look for her when she ran from him. Going a few levels above Hell wouldn’t have been something he’d ever consider doing even if it meant he’d have her back as his personal punching bag.

Shawn’s arms came around her, immediately destroying the tension that had been collecting in her body since Flidae had shown up. Would his touch always do that for her? Did her touch do that for him?

Aye. I never would have recovered from the train accident if it hadn’t been for your touch, Angel.

She grabbed his forearms and tightened his hold on her. Around the dining room, everyone was with his or her mate, except Kylie, who had a hand in Kole’s but stood as if she wanted to go to Dylan.

“Such a bond for ones so young,” Flidae said. “Come here, little pup.” She held out her hand for Kylie. “I can tell the boy is afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” Dylan said, though his adolescent voice cracked on the word afraid.

Flidae smiled at him then looked around the room. “I know my treatment of you wolves has been harsh and you have every reason not to enjoy my presence, but I am bound by rules as well. If I’d let you all get away with the killing you’d done as wolves, I would have...” She shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you’ve all survived my punishment. You’ve all found your soul mates, done something worthy. You’ve made lives for yourself here in this time. I wish you all the happiness you deserve. I will not make things hard for you any longer.”

They all stood in a stunned silence and Jessica was surprised to not hear anyone’s thoughts for a solid minute as they soaked in what Flidae had announced.

“Our punishment is truly over?” Jaemus asked.

“Aye. Whatever happens to you now is of your own doing.”

“What about Erik?” Reardon asked. “Do you know where he is?”

Flidae’s eyes flared, and Jessica’s skin tingled as power swept through the room. “He is not your concern.”

“But we’d like—”

The goddess grew in size, her head nearly touching the high ceiling of the dining room. A wind blew napkins off the table and jingled wind chimes Emma had hanging above the kitchen sink. “I will handle Erik.”

“Will we ever see him again?” Kole asked. “He is one of us. We miss him.”

Flidae shrank back down to a more human size and smoothed the front of her dress. By this time, Kylie had sidled up next to Dylan, her hand slipping into his.

“I am not sure of Erik Rheagan’s fate yet. He’s... not like the rest of you.” Flidae’s hands fisted and unfisted at her sides, her jaw clenched, and she had a look in her eyes that Jessica couldn’t quite decipher. She didn’t know Erik, but he’d clearly done something to unbalance the goddess. And why couldn’t he join the rest of the warriors? What harm would there be in that?

Flidae shifted her gaze to her and Jessica quickly emptied her head of such questions. She had her warrior. That was her only concern.

Smart, raven lass. Don’t poke your beak where it will find trouble.

Jessica held up a hand in surrender and the goddess went back to looking at the children. She took each of their hands so the three of them formed a circle. The white mist rose a bit higher around them, and Brandy instinctively took a step forward.

“Don’t, fairy lass,” Reardon said. “She’s not going to hurt them.”

Brandy’s jaw tensed, but she stayed put.

“Throughout history,” Flidae began, “I have chosen humans to aid me in my protection of wild things.” She looked from Dylan to Kylie then back to the boy. “You may have studied about some of these humans while being schooled. Rachel Carson, John Muir, Aldo Leopold, Theodore Roosevelt... the list is long. They have all had an instinctual interest in nature and have agreed to serve me in protecting the wild. I am a powerful goddess, but it always helps to have human agents in place as well.

“And you, Dylan.” Flidae kneeled before him, still holding both children’s hands. “I want you to be one of these agents for wild wolves. You have grown up amongst wolves.” The goddess looked over at Brandy. “You have been taught well on what wolves need and how to protect them. You will continue the sanctuary work and aid all the wolves you find.”

Dylan nodded. “I had planned to do that anyway, but...”

“But what, child?”

“If I am your human agent,” he glanced to Kylie beside him, “does that mean I won’t ever be a werewolf?”

“That is what it means. By becoming my agent, you will be unable to be turned even if they try.” Flidae pointed to the werewolves among them.

Dylan’s face fell as did Kylie’s.

The goddess extended a finger and lifted Dylan’s chin. “Staying human doesn’t mean that you can’t be a wolf’s soul mate.” Flidae flitted a glance to Kylie. “Humans and wolves find each other all the time.” She arced an arm out to the couples in the dining room. “You, of all people, should understand this.”

“Yeah, but they’re all werewolves now... or a raven shifter,” Dylan said. “I wanted...I wanted to be special too.”

“You don’t think being chosen by a goddess to protect her creatures makes you special?” Flidae’s dark eyebrows rose as she straightened and looked down at the boy. “You don’t think the people I mentioned were or are special?”

“Well, yeah, they are. I’m sorry. I just won’t be able to do the cool things they can.” He shrugged one shoulder.

“I didn’t say that the job wouldn’t come with its own set of... how did you say it? ‘Cool things,’ did I?” Flidae clasped her hands in front of her.

“What kind of cool things?”

“You have to agree to the job first.”

“You mean I can say no?”

“You can. Humans always have a choice. It’s part of what makes you humans.”

Dylan turned to Kylie. “Maybe this pack does need a human to keep it safe.”

Kylie shook her head. “Not just any human, Dylan. You.”

Smiling, the boy turned back to Flidae. “Okay. I’m in.”

“Excellent.” Flidae looked truly pleased with the boy’s decision, her entire face softer and more relaxed than Jessica had ever seen it. “I know we’ve both made the right choice. I in picking you and you in accepting. You will see and do wonderful things in this role, Dylan.”

She turned the two children around and nudged them toward their parents. Brandy and Reardon pulled Dylan into a hug as Brandy murmured how proud she was of him. Emma and Kole embraced Kylie, Kole reminding the girl that her being soul mates with anyone was a long, long, looong way off yet.

“I take my leave of you,” Flidae said. “For now.” She winked at Dylan then vanished in her cloud of white mist.

For a moment, no one moved. Then Jaemus said, “I guess you can’t flunk out of school now, Dylan. You’ve got wolves to protect.”

Brandy released Dylan from the embrace and held him at arm’s length. “Are you sure this is what you want? I mean, I know you’ve always said you wanted to work at Silver Moon when you grew up, but maybe you’ll find something else you’re interested in.”

“Mom, what could be more interesting than studying wolves—which I already love doing—and protecting them, werewolves included? It’s what I’m meant to do.”

Suddenly the boy seemed a great deal older to Jessica. He’d matured before their eyes today in taking on Flidae’s offered role.

“I hope you’ll make room in your work for the occasional raven,” Jessica said. “Because I plan to be around and I might bring friends.”

Everyone laughed and the tension in the room leached out. They finished up the evening with a selection of Gran’s heavenly pies and maple ice cream. After helping clean up, Shawn and Jessica said their thank yous and goodbyes, promising to see everyone tomorrow to check out the building Jaemus had found as a potential base for Warrior Construction.

Shawn drove Jessica’s SUV at speeds she didn’t want to register. She’d grabbed at the door handle and dashboard too many times to count.

“Relax, Angel. I can see better in the dark than any drivers out here, not that many are out tonight. It is Vermont after all. These dirt roads are deserted most of the time.”

Everything he said was true and she had enhanced vision too. Still, when the SUV skidded around a corner, she let out a little squeak.

“I would slow down,” Shawn said, “but I simply can’t wait to get you home.”

She couldn’t argue with that. She’d wanted to be alone with him since the moment they’d gotten to Emma and Kole’s house.

“See? I’m doing us both a favor by driving like this.” He gave her a smug smile, and she launched her fist into his bicep. “Hey, save that rough stuff for when we get into the bedroom, Angel.”

Ten minutes later they were pulling into the cabin’s driveway, and Jessica loved how the small house was bathed in moonlight, the dark summer woods hugging it from the backside.

“It’s a cozy spot,” she said.

“It needs some feminine touches though. Flowers and stuff.”

“Maybe some fun garden sculptures.”

“I know just the artist for the job.” Shawn leaned over the center console and captured her mouth with his. When his big, warm hand cupped her cheek, she instantly wanted to be inside. Shawn broke away. “Good idea, Angel. Let’s get inside.”

“Wait,” she grabbed his arm and he puckered up, ready to kiss her again, but she shook her head. “No, grab a box.” She angled her head toward the remaining boxes they’d packed up from her Maine house. Before Shawn had left for Arizona, they’d only had time to unload a few.

Shawn pouted a bit. “I’ll only grab a box if you kiss me again.”

“Sounds fair.” Jessica put both her hands on his cheeks and pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss that lasted several moments. When she released him, his eyes were glowing. “There, that ought to get you to grab two boxes.”

“Maybe three.”

They got out of the SUV, hefted boxes, and went into the cabin. After depositing the boxes with the others they’d brought in before, Shawn dragged Jessica down to the bathroom.

“You, me, bubble bath,” he said.

“Really?” Jessica raised her eyebrows. “A wolf who likes bubble baths?”

“When there is a hot raven in the tub with me? Gods, aye, I love bubble baths.”

“Hmm... I don’t think we’re dirty enough for baths yet.” She arched an eyebrow at him and squealed when he charged at her, his eyes blazing now.

“One set of dirty shifters coming up.”

He scooped her into his arms and carried her back down the hallway to the living room. After grabbing a quilt off the couch and opening the sliding glass door, he stepped outside and took in a deep breath.

Jessica loved feeling his hard chest expand against her as she looped her arms around his neck and held on. “Outside?”

“No better place to get dirty than out in the dirt.” He set her down and led her into the woods a bit before spreading out the quilt. “Now we get to celebrate on our own.”

“Best way to celebrate.”

And she could tell by the look in his wolf eyes, this celebration would be only one of many.

****

Jessica stripped off her clothes and shifted into her raven form before Shawn had his pants off.

“Hey, what are you up to, Angel?” he shouted as she flew up to a high branch, much higher than he could reach.

If you want me, Jessica thought, stretching out her wings, you have to catch me first. Laughter filled his head as she took off into the woods.

Growling, Shawn rid himself of his clothes and shifted to wolf form. His paws tore up the ground as he ran after her. His wolf eyes tracked her easily even though she moved at incredible speeds, avoiding tree limbs with stunning accuracy. Below her, he darted over small hills and around boulders to keep on her tail.

Tail feathers, technically.

How am I supposed to catch you? Shawn asked, completely aware of the whine in his thoughts. You could at least fly lower.

I could, but you like a challenge, don’t you?

Not when all I want to do is make love to you.

Jessica dipped lower and again laughter caressed Shawn’s mind when she landed on his back. He turned his head one way then the other, but he couldn’t get in the right position to see her.

Stop teasing me, Angel.

But it’s so much fun!

Shawn spun around to head back toward the cabin and galloped through the woods, Jessica’s talons clamping into his fur as she held on. Within moments he spilled past the trees into his backyard, the soft glow of lights shining from inside the cabin. He shifted quickly with a grunt, but recovered fast enough to grab Jessica before she could fly away. Pulling her in against his bare chest, he ran his fingers over her silky black feathers.

“What’s your plan now, birdie?”

Jessica’s human form exploded into his arms and he had to juggle her a bit to keep from dropping her. “My plan now is to make you shout my name.” She hopped out of his arms and reached up on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. “Several times.”

“Thank the gods.” Shawn threw a look up to the moonlit sky in gratitude.

She led him over to the quilt and drew him down with her. With a few sweet kisses that soon turned not-so-sweet, she had him on his back. Grabbing a handful of dirt from the ground beside the quilt, she let small clumps of it drop onto his chest.

“Time to get dirty,” she said with a grin.

The soil still held the warmth of the summer sun and the scent filled his nose, mixing perfectly with the fresh air and wildflower scent of his soul mate. It was a glorious combination and before he knew it, Shawn was flipping her over and burrowing into her hot center. When Baglor had Jessica, he’d had this horrifying fear he’d never be like this with her again. How could he have gone on living without her?

Jessica’s hand on his cheek made him look directly into her eyes. “I felt exactly the same way.”

“Luckily we don’t have to worry about that.” He leaned down and consumed that wonderful mouth of hers as he drove into her.

Her legs tightened around his waist as her hands clawed at his back as if she couldn’t get close enough.

Shawn put his hands underneath her and palmed her perfect ass, lifting her slightly and getting the angle just right so he could, in fact, push himself farther into her core. Her entire body shuddered and when she clenched around him, he thought he might lose his mind from the pure bliss of it. Nothing in his entire life had ever felt as good as having Jessica surround him so completely. He considered himself the luckiest man alive to spend the rest of his life with a woman like her.

A perfect woman. Perfect for him.

She caressed his cheek right before she fell apart in his arms, saying his name over and over again as her orgasm ignited his. Together they rode the wave, enjoying each aftershock until they were reduced to nothing more than a tangled web of limbs on the quilt.

After a few moments of catching his breath, Shawn rolled to his back and blinked up at the night sky. So many stars, glittering like crystals. He turned to gaze at Jessica beside him. She too was looking up at the sky.

“You ever wish upon them?” she asked.

“When I was a lad, aye.”

“What did you wish for?”

“Mostly for my mother to be returned to us.” That seemed like lifetime upon lifetime ago. “You?”

“I wished to be normal.” She shifted to cuddle beside him. “I guess I got my wish. Among you and your pack, I am normal.”

“Aye. You are one of us.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I suppose I got my wish too. In wishing for my mother, I was really wishing for someone to love me.” He traced a circle on her stomach with his index finger. “I have that someone now.”

“And you’ll always have me. Always.”

“Good thing Kole called you.” He hated to think of never seeing Jessica again because of his own stubborn stupidity.

“He’s a good brother. You should keep him.”

“I don’t think he’d let me get rid of him.” That was the thing about Kole. He didn’t give up. Even when Shawn was being a rather large prick about how long it took his brother to find him, Kole hadn’t stopped trying to get him to come to Vermont, to join the pack, to stop fighting. He owed Kole. He wouldn’t be with this lovely lass without him.

After lying in the moonlight for a while, Shawn led Jessica inside and they redefined what taking a bubble bath meant. When he awoke the next morning, he was still smiling over what they had done in that tub.

He slid his arm out to Jessica’s side of the bed—gods, he loved that she owned a side of his bed—but when he didn’t feel her there, he sat up and looked around the bedroom. Not finding her, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and shrugged into a pair of sweatpants. Standing, he took a moment to balance out of habit then shook his head.

No need to do that anymore. He had two good legs solidly supporting him. Now that things had settled, he could finally enjoy that miracle.

Padding out to the kitchen on bare feet, he searched that room and the living and dining rooms, but Jessica wasn’t in any of them. When he cocked an ear and heard music coming from outside, he quickly made some coffee and followed the sound to the barn on his property. He paused outside and peered in through the open doors.

Inside, Jessica worked on setting up her studio. He loved that she was doing so in nothing more than one of his T-shirts, her long legs bare and calling out to his hands. Her thick black hair was piled up on top of her head in a sloppy knot, coils hanging about her masterpiece of a face. Even without a stitch of makeup, she was radiant.

She hummed along with the music and Shawn didn’t recognize the tune at first. When she got to the chorus and belted it out, he identified it as one of Hendrake’s songs. Emma’s voice echoed from the old radio Jessica must have brought from her previous studio, and he had to admit Kole’s lass could sing and play a fiddle better than anyone he’d ever heard—even back in Ireland.

Shawn was about to step into the barn, but before he could, two large ravens flew in from the hay doors at the far end of the building. They landed on a table and hopped around, cawing to get Jessica’s attention. When she turned to see them, a smile broke out on her face.

“Hey, guys,” she said, her tone friendly. “Come to check out my new digs?”

The ravens cawed again and allowed her to run her fingers along their feathery backs. A fleeting bout of jealousy flipped through Shawn as he thought about the fact that those two birds were no doubt raven shifters—male raven shifters—that she was caressing.

“Don’t worry,” Jessica said, swiveling quickly to point a finger at him. “I knew you were standing there. My raven buddies and I will keep it G-rated in here.”

He swore the two ravens laughed with the cackles they sent up.

Jessica chuckled with them and sauntered over to him. He forgot to be jealous when he saw the look in her dark eyes and then shifted his gaze to those long, shapely legs carrying her closer to him with each step.

“You’ve been right all this time,” he said, reaching out to grab a fistful of her shirt—his shirt technically—and tug her up against him. “You’re no angel. You’re a vixen through and through.”

The left side of her mouth turned up as she walked her fingers up his chest then settled her hands on his bare shoulders. “Maybe I’m a little bit of both.” She kissed him then plucked one of the coffees he held out of his hand. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Gods, he loved having her here. How in the world did he get this lucky?

“We both got lucky.” Her grin widened. “I’m still thinking about that bubble bath.”

He laughed. “Aye. I’ve never gotten that... clean.”

One of the ravens stuck his head under his wing and made a grumbly noise.

“Oops,” Jessica said, stepping away and turning to look at the birds. “They can read our thoughts too. Quick think of something else. Block them out.” Her cheeks pinked adorably.

Shawn shook his head. “Sorry, lass. I can’t think of anything else, but how you—”

Her hand clamped over his mouth. “Don’t say it!” She threw a wary look back to the ravens. “I’m sorry, guys.”

Shawn angled his head at the two ravens, finishing his mental reminiscing of being with Jessica last night. When the birds cawed and flew out the hay doors, Jessica put her hand on her hip.

“Shawn McMannus, that was not nice. They were just visiting.”

“Sure they were.” He tapped his temple. “Don’t forget I can read them as they can read me. They were both hoping for more than a visit.”

Jessica sputtered a few times. “I wasn’t getting that from either of them.”

“Perhaps they masked it from you, but they were rather bold in their thoughts with me.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I don’t think they’ll be making that mistake again.”

A frown turned Jessica’s lovely lips down at the corners. “Don’t be a bully.”

“Angel, I’m a former warrior. I’m the definition of a bully.”

She marched over to him and jabbed him in the chest with her index finger. “You have your pack, which I’m honored to be a part of, but I need some time with ravens too. They are my... people. I went so many years thinking I was the only one like me. To find out I’m not is an amazing gift.”

“Why do they all have to be male raven shifters though?”

“Maybe there are female ones. Maybe some of the raven shifters we freed from Baglor will find the female ones. It’s a possibility and I want to keep connected to them.”

He sifted out a breath. “I understand, Angel.” And he did. He didn’t love it, but he understood.

“So you’ll be nice the next time some of them fly by?” She leaned against him again and damn, he’d agree to anything when she did that.

“I’ll try my best. Being nice isn’t my strongest quality though.”

“I know.” She took a step back and let her gaze roam from his face over his chest and sweatpants-covered legs down to his bare feet. “Being damn sexy is your strongest quality.”

“Love me just for my body, aye?”

“Yep.” She set her coffee cup down and did the same to his before wrapping her arms around him. “I may love you because you are my soul mate too. My wolf.” She nibbled on his shoulder, up his neck, and along his jaw, pausing to set his mouth on fire with a smoldering kiss.

“I love you, my angel, and I will for this lifetime and all the ones that come after.”

“That’s a long time.”

“And yet, not long enough.”

He slid his hands under her arms and hoisted her up onto a nearby table. Cans of paintbrushes and other supplies jiggled, creating a music all their own as he positioned himself between her legs and burrowed his hands under her T-shirt.

“We ought to take advantage of every moment,” he said, his lips against her ear.

She arched closer to him. “Be a shame to waste even a second.”

With a low growl, he peeled her shirt off and set her hair loose from its knot so it flowed over her bare breasts. He knew his eyes probably glowed right now, but he didn’t care. Being around Jessica always made him a little feral. She had the ability to bring his wolf right to the surface. He didn’t have to hide from her, nor did she have to hide from him.

They could just be. Together.

Epilogue

One month later...

Jessica’s hands were gloppy with clay as she worked to form the vase for her latest order which was headed right for the shelves in Nika’s trading post. Business was booming, plus she had two huge wolves she was sculpting for Silver Moon’s entrance gates. She’d had fun doing sketches of Reardon as a wolf in various poses. She’d also convinced Shawn to let her sketch him. That man’s body—particularly his human form—inspired her like nothing else.

She’d finally set up the barn exactly how she wanted it for the most efficient use of the space. Bigger than her studio in Maine, this barn was a dream place to work every day. She spent hours in there while Shawn went off to work with Kole, Reardon, and Jaemus. Warrior Construction had been receiving calls left and right after they’d finished remodeling Nika’s customer’s house. Word of good work traveled fast in a small town like Canville and the guys couldn’t be happier.

Neither could Jessica. She finally had everything she wanted. A solid business. A cozy home nestled in the woods. A warrior werewolf of her very own who started and ended every day with the words I love you, Angel.

Sigh.

Thinking of Shawn made her all buzzy inside. What she felt for him had only intensified as she spent more time with him. She did have to admit to wondering in those first weeks if Shawn would disappear on her again. Things had been good. Too good, and she was accustomed to having good turn into terrible pretty damn fast.

But Shawn had given her no indication he was going anywhere. In fact, he was in her space as much as physically possible most of the time. She didn’t mind that at all. She loved having him close. She loved waking up next to him—in their brand new, king-sized bed. She loved cuddling up to him on the couch. She loved... ah, hell, she loved everything when it came to that man.

She checked the clock on the wall in the barn. “Almost quitting time, Ares.” She blew air kisses to the German Shepherd puppy curled up in his doggie bed.

At the sound of his name, the brown and black pup stretched out all his legs at once, a wide—and adorable—yawn showing off his teeth. Shawn had made good on his plan to keep her protected even when he couldn’t be around. Of course, Ares was a small critter right now. If the size of his paws was any indication though, he’d be a fearsome beastie soon enough.

“Let’s finish up and get ready to welcome Daddy home.”

At the word Daddy, Ares sprung off his bed and raced to the open barn door, his tail helicoptering as he whined and stared out at the driveway.

“Sorry, buddy,” Jessica said. “He’s not here yet.” She laughed when the pup sunk to a lie down position at the door. “Okay, you wait right there for him.”

Figuring she could finish this piece and pop it in the kiln before going into the house to cook up some dinner, she picked up her pace. As she was bringing the vase to the kiln, however, a sudden wave of dizziness swept over her. Quickly, she set the vase down and gripped the edge of the work table with her dirty hands. Squeezing her eyes shut, she willed the spinning feeling to stop.

When she opened her eyes, she didn’t see her studio in front of her. Instead a sprawling landscape passed by at incredible speeds. Colors blurred as she watched, trying to decipher what in the world she was seeing. The scene below her zoomed in and she dropped to her knees, barely feeling the barn floor dig into her bare skin.

The colors slowed and her eyes picked up the ocean lapping at a rocky coastline. Sea-salted air filled her nose and sunshine warmed her back. It took her a few moments to realize this was a raven’s perspective.

Yes, a voice said in her head.

She recognized it as one of the raven shifters she’d freed from Baglor. His name was Carrid and he’d taken to visiting her in the barn on occasion with another raven, Nealus. They were a fun pair who liked to watch her work. Sometimes they shifted into men when they visited, but mostly they preferred their raven forms, having spent so long like that when in Baglor’s service. She liked to think she was helping them get reacquainted with being humans. Baby steps.

Now, for some reason, Carrid was sharing what he was seeing as he flew. Jessica hadn’t known this kind of connection was possible. She wasn’t sure she liked it. Seeing through someone else’s eyes was unsettling.

Sorry, friend, Carrid said. This is a trick Baglor taught us when we did his bidding. He liked to see what we saw so he could make sure we were targeting the right soul. I wasn’t sure I could connect to you in this manner, but I guess it works.

Yes, it works, but why are you doing it now?

She could still feel the barn floor beneath her and smell the clay drying on her hands, yet at the same time, as Carrid’s feet gripped the top of an iron fence, she felt that too.

I have something you should see, he said.

Before she could respond, he was in flight again. A tall lighthouse appeared in her line of vision. It had a lovely stone base and the white bricks gleamed in the sun so brightly she had to squint to look at it. Green, leafy ivy spiraled up the sides of the lighthouse and windows at the bottom had salt stains on them from ocean spray. The sky was blue and cloudless—a raven’s delight.

As Carrid flew higher, Jessica caught sight of an open window at the top of the lighthouse, near where the beacon light would be. The light wasn’t operational now as it was daytime, but Carrid ducked in through that opening, flew down a narrow stairwell, and clamped his talons on a railing. As he swiveled his head, he revealed a small, hexagonal room with sparse furnishings. A worn couch. An end table with some books piled in a tower that looked about to topple. A dusty instrument panel that made Jessica wonder if the lighthouse was functional anymore. Most of the walls were taken up with windows that overlooked the ocean, but one section was solid wall. Upon that part, a plaque hung that read Sandy Hill Lighthouse, est. 1796.

Jessica knew that lighthouse. After she’d moved to Maine, she’d taken a trip to Rhode Island to visit the Rhode Island School of Design for an art conference. It had been summer at the time so she’d extended her stay to check out the many beaches the smallest state had. She’d ended up wandering over to this very lighthouse. Something about its colonial architecture had called to her and she hadn’t been able to resist an up close look. She even had some drawings of it in one of her old sketchbooks, feeling the need to capture the structure for some future use in a clay creation.

But again she wondered why Carrid was showing her this? He had no way of knowing she’d visited this lighthouse.

What am I supposed to be seeing? Jessica asked, her heart racing a little.

This. Carrid flew to the back of the room.

A large, rusty red lump of fur filled a corner.

Carrid landed a few feet in front of the lump and when he let out a soft caw, the lump moved.

Jessica gasped as a wolf head lifted, beautiful hazel eyes blinking sleepily at her. Jaws opened in a huge yawn and a back paw scratched at a large ear. Shaking his head, the wolf rose to all fours and poked his nose closer to Carrid, sniffing sounding as he investigated his visitor. When a low growl rumbled out of the creature, Carrid took off, arrowing up and out of the lighthouse altogether.

The connection was broken, and the barn came back into view. Ares licked her face, worry in his big brown eyes as his puppy ears flopped about his head. Jessica pulled herself to her feet and took off for the house, blood dripping down her leg from a cut she must have gotten when she’d dropped to her knees.

“Shawn! Shawn!” She spilled into the cabin, Ares sprinting past her. “Shawn, are you home yet?” What time was it? How long had she been with Carrid?

“What are you yelling about, Angel?” Shawn called from the kitchen where he was standing by the open refrigerator, no doubt looking for dinner. He rubbed his bare foot over Ares’s back as the pup snuffled in delight over finding Daddy.

“I... I...” She pressed her fingers to her temple and took a deep breath. “What color is Erik in wolf form?”

Letting the refrigerator door close, Shawn walked over to her. His gaze swept over her, his eyes widening. “You’re bleeding, Angel. What happened?” He grabbed a paper towel from the holder on the kitchen counter. After backing her onto one of the island stools, he pressed the paper towel to the cut.

Jessica put her hands on his shoulders and he looked up at her, Ares still weaving around his feet. “Shawn, what color is Erik?”

His brow furrowed. “Reddish. Like a fox’s coat. Why?”

“I know where he is.”

Read on for the final book in the Warrior Wolves Series, WOLF SUN!

WOLF SUN

Book Five

Warrior Wolves Series

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by Christine DePetrillo

Chapter One

One by one they had all found love. Flidae, the Celtic goddess of wild things, had watched her wolves grapple with their banishment to the modern world. They hadn’t been happy with this punishment, but she’d done them a favor. She’d spared them a far worse fate. She’d bought them extra time. They had used their beasts to kill for riches, and for that they all should have been dead by now. Others before them had ceased to exist for such crimes, but something about these five wolves had Flidae breaking ancient rules to save them. Something she couldn’t explain. Something a goddess as old as she shouldn’t have filling her thoughts.

Reardon McAlator, the only natural werewolf of the five, was a true leader. Though he’d changed his warriors—without their consent—he only had their best interests in mind. He took care of the others and would do anything to ensure they lived.

Even turn them into werewolves.

Jaemus, Reardon’s brother, and his two cousins, Kole and Shawn McMannus, hadn’t been thrilled about being turned, but they’d been pulled into the sense of pack that was undeniable for werewolves. Though none of them had enemy soldiers to slay anymore, they all worked as a solid unit. They used their bulk to build things through their new company, Warrior Construction. Their lives in Canville, Vermont were filled with love from their soul mates who were all modern-day women, perfect at taming these rogue wolves.

Only one wolf remained separate from the pack after banishment from ancient Ireland.

Only one wolf tempted Flidae like she’d never been tempted.

Erik Rheagan.

Even his name, spoken only inside the walls of her mind, caused a reaction in Flidae that she couldn’t comprehend. Goddesses didn’t have feelings for those they protected. Goddesses didn’t love. At all. She wasn’t permitted to have a soul mate of her own, but her time watching Reardon and the others fall for their true matches had created a yearning inside her too big to ignore.

She wanted what they had.

“Foolish.” She fluffed the folds of her lilac gown, trimmed in real lilacs, and closed her eyes. Inhaling deeply, she let the scent of the flowers fill her nose. When she opened her eyes and looked around the vast gardens surrounding her—ones she called home, though gods and goddesses didn’t actually have physical houses—she wasn’t comforted as she usually was.

Instantly, the gardens sifted away like a breeze blowing smoke. A dark forest enveloped Flidae now as anger rose inside her. She had to get a handle on these feelings. The rest of the gods and goddesses would label her insane if they knew how she couldn’t stop thinking about Erik. She spent a good portion of her limitless time trying not to imagine what his lips would feel like locked with hers in a passionate kiss. What would his hands feel like if they coasted over the flesh she sometimes materialized when visiting the human world? Of course it wasn’t real human flesh so she probably wouldn’t feel anything. Still, she dreamed of his touch. What would his tall, muscled body feel like draped over hers after they’d pleasured each other?

Growling, Flidae rose to her feet—in hoof form at the moment—and shifted into a white mare. A gallop through the woods would settle her then she’d find something else to do. She’d spent so much time checking in on her wolves, but she’d promised not to interfere with their lives anymore. The four wolves who had already found soul mates had done something worthy and had earned the happily ever afters coming to them. She was still keeping an eye on the boy—Dylan, Reardon’s stepson—for that lad had agreed to be one of her human protectors, specifically for wolves. For now, however, she’d let them all live in peace.

Did Erik want that peace too?

Flidae was sure he did, but she didn’t know how to give it to him. From the moment he’d been turned into a werewolf, a powerful connection had knit itself between them. The bond was even stronger than the one she had with Reardon who was a natural-born werewolf. It shouldn’t have been that way with Erik. She had no explanation for her fascination with him.

Aside from the fact that Erik Rheagan was the most beautiful wolf she’d ever seen. His rusty-red fur resembled flames when he ran through the woods, and his hazel eyes reminded her of eternal summer when all the leaves were alive and vibrant on their branches. Muscles rippled beneath this fur and strength radiated from him. The first time she’d seen him shift, back in Ireland when she’d been berating Reardon for turning the men, her eyes kept wandering to Erik. He appeared... comfortable in his wolf fur, as if the shock of being turned into a werewolf had already worn off and he’d come to terms with his new incarnation.

Bottom line? Wolf looked good on Erik Rheagan. Too good.

Shaking her silvery mane now, Flidae took off through the woods, her four hooves churning up damp earth as she dashed over boulders and thick tree roots. Though these woods weren’t real, she conjured up small creatures to keep her company as she ran. She created a large pond, filled with glittery water, where she stopped for a refreshing drink.

After more running, Flidae stopped in a clearing where tall evergreens encircled a waterfall. The sound of water flowing soothed her as she sunned herself on a mossy bank. Colorful birds soared overhead, mere specks in the bluest of skies. Their calls and songs eased the tension in her flanks, and two small rabbits hopped closer. With twitching noses, the bunnies approached, offering her grasses and berries which they set in front of her before hopping away.

She nosed the gifts, pleased her subjects—even ones she’d conjured—showed such loyalty. She was the goddess of wild things. She could do whatever she wanted.

Except what she wanted most.

Love.

That one experience eluded her simply because she had no human part. Her werewolves and other shifters were half human so they could enjoy the wonders of falling in love, giving love, receiving love. She, on the other hand, had always existed. She hadn’t been born as humans and wild things were. She hadn’t been created out of a mating between souls that had found each other. She just was, as were the other gods and goddesses.

But if I had a choice...

Flidae shifted from the mare back to a human form. She leaned over the water and stared at her reflection. She’d chosen this pale-skinned, black-haired, violet-eyed form for when she visited the human realm, but no human would ever accept her as one of them. All the humans she’d appeared to instantly knew she wasn’t like them. While she could do a great many things and had a great many powers, she couldn’t capture what it was to be truly human.

Not that she hadn’t tried. Several times.

She’d appeared to male humans in the past, attempting to lure them to her side, but they always knew she didn’t belong. One of them described her failure as a result of the “glow” he said surrounded her. Goddesses had auras and hers prevented her from disguising what she was. No human male—or shifter for that matter—had been willing to be hers. She could have compelled them, but she knew enough about soul mates to know coercion wasn’t the answer. After watching Reardon and the others, she understood real love didn’t need force. Real love was too beautiful for that.

Too bad she’d never know that beauty.

Sighing, Flidae rose to her feet and pressed her toes into the moist dirt bordering the water. She shifted the human feet back to hooves and stared at them. She’d had all this time to come to terms with being a goddess. Why did she still feel as if there’d been some mistake? Why did she feel as if she was supposed to be something else?

A twig snapped behind her and Flidae whirled around to see Gwyd, god of enchantment, walking toward her. He’d chosen the form of a human male in a brown cloak today, his long red beard reminding her of Erik’s fur, though it was streaked with white.

“Flidae.” He greeted her with a fist to his heart. “How lovely you look by the waterfall.”

“Thank you, Gwyd.” Of all the gods and goddesses, he was the most complimentary and he never lied so she knew he actually thought she looked lovely. His kind words massaged the ache in her chest.

A little anyway.

“What brings you here?” This waterfall was of her creation, but being the god of enchantment, Gwyd had magick that allowed him to enter many places most could not.

“A better question is what brings you here, my dear?” He angled his head at her, his rich brown eyes studying her face. “Hiding?”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re entitled. Do you wish me to leave?” He arrowed a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the path he traveled in on. A path he made with his own powers.

Flidae shook her head. “You can stay.”

Gwyd took a seat on a large boulder that appeared as he lowered. He manifested a few stones in the palm of his hand and skipped them on top of the water. “I’m not the company you hoped for though, am I?”

Her gaze whipped up to meet his. “What do you mean?”

His lips twitched up at the corners as he threw his last stone. It skipped five times then hovered over the water, suspended by an invisible thread. Rays of golden light burst forth from the stone then it traveled back on its path, skipping back into Gwyd’s outstretched hand. He held that hand out to Flidae.

“Take it.”

She opened her hand and let him drop the stone into her palm. Only it was no longer just a stone. The rock had changed and now a small, heart-shaped piece of rose quartz sat in her hand.

“You’re wearing your loneliness like chains, Flidae.”

She pocketed the quartz and turned to face the water. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Gwyd let out a deep, rumbling laugh that grated on Flidae’s nerves. “You know exactly what I mean, wild goddess.” His hand rested on her shoulder and he turned her to face him.

“I...”

He shook his head. “There’s no point in denying what I’ve already seen on your face, in your eyes, in your heart.” He tapped a finger to her chest where a heart would beat... if she had one. “We all feel it, you know? That little part of us that is empty because we can’t experience that one emotion. We get the other ones—anger, jealousy, resentment—but love... ah, sweet love. That one evades us. We see it. We understand its power. We crave a small fraction of it.”

“But we’ll never have it.” Flidae sifted out a long, slow breath.

“Never is a strong word,” Gwyd said. “Never means things are not possible.”

“It’s not possible for us to love.”

“Many would say it’s not possible for you to create this waterfall, these woods, these critters running about. Many would say it’s not possible for me to appear to you within this conjured setting.” He arced his arms out. “Yet here is this waterfall, here are these woods, here are these critters.” He gestured to himself. “Here am I.”

Flidae squinted her eyes at Gwyd. “What are you saying exactly?”

“I’m saying, wild goddess, impossible things happen all the time.”

The quartz in her pocket glowed through the fabric of her dress, a heat growing in intensity as it brightened.

“See? Even that quartz knows passion runs within you.” Gwyd turned in a circle as if looking for something.

“What are...?” Flidae stopped when he held up a finger to her.

He moved along the fringes of the area, mumbling to himself and checking under the low-growing brush. Gwyd wandered away from her and Flidae wondered how long she should let this silliness continue.

“Ah, yes. There.” Gwyd pointed to a shadowy part of the woods. “I knew he was here somewhere in your created setting.”

Flidae came to stand beside Gwyd, her eyes widening when she caught sight of the rusty-red wolf curled up in a ball, sleeping at the base of a sturdy pine. “How did he get here?”

Gwyd reached over and tapped a finger to her temple. “You put him here. Just like everything else that’s here.”

“I didn’t put you here.”

“I used my own magick on that one. I’m allowed.” Gwyd put an arm around Flidae’s shoulders. “You’ve been through an ordeal. Baglor lured you into his realm and almost ended you. That’s not to be taken lightly, Flidae.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to push down the memory of being caged and siphoned of power by Baglor, god of dead souls. If her wolves hadn’t come for her—and Shawn’s soul mate, Jessica—the goddess of wild things would have perished. Thankfully, their loyalty had saved her, and Baglor had been destroyed. Lio, a raven shifter who had taken over as god of dead souls, had proven to be much more ethical in his... duties.

“I have already forgotten that time, Gwyd.” She squared her shoulders, causing Gwyd’s arm to fall to his side. “My wolves came for me. Rescued me. I’m here.”

“And yet, this wolf means more to you than the ones who freed you from Baglor’s realm.” He pointed to the mound of rusty red fur still coiled tightly.

“It’s not really him.” Flidae marched up to the wolf who didn’t move.

“Maybe not, but you like the idea of having him here, don’t you?”

This was a dangerous conversation. If she denied that Erik intrigued her, Gwyd would know. He was good at sniffing out lies with his magick. If, on the other hand, she admitted she felt something for Erik, she’d look like a damn fool.

“Goddesses don’t waste their time on love because they can never have it, Gwyd.” Still her fingers itched to stroke the fur on that wolf—the wolf that looked so much like Erik.

Gwyd stood in front of her and rested his hands on her shoulders. “What if you could have it?”

****

Erik Rheagan didn’t welcome visitors even if they were just ravens. He’d been enjoying a nice nap when he’d sensed a... presence. Half expecting it to be Flidae—and foolishly looking forward to that possibility—he’d cracked open his eyes. The black stare of a sizable raven greeted him instead of the anticipated violet eyes of Flidae’s human form. When he’d approached the nosey bird and growled, the raven flapped its black feathers and soared out an open window.

Just as well.

He wasn’t in the mood for entertaining. He would have made a concession if it had been Flidae, but she hadn’t been showing herself too much lately. Had he angered her? He had no idea. All he did know was the image of her with her flowing black hair, ruby lips, and enchanting eyes had taken up permanent residence in his brain. He’d never seen a more beautiful lass. Not back in his Ireland. Certainly not in this time he’d been banished to.

But she’s not a lass.

He had to constantly remind himself of that inconvenient fact. He had no right to think of Flidae as anything other than what she was—a powerful goddess in charge of wild things and not interested in someone like him. Someone she’d punished in fact because he’d used his werewolf to kill. He’d only been following Reardon McAlator’s orders like a good warrior, but that hadn’t mattered to Flidae. She was teaching them all a lesson. He just hoped he learned it before too much time passed. He had to get back to Ireland.

Stretching after being awakened by the raven’s intrusion, Erik shifted from a huge, rusty-red wolf into his human form. He raked a hand through his reddish blond hair and gave himself a minute to get comfortable back in his flesh. It was always an adjustment. He rather enjoyed his wolf though he didn’t spend much time in that form. Human never felt quite... right anymore. Maybe the time period didn’t feel right. Maybe being away from the other men didn’t feel right. Erik couldn’t be sure.

After Flidae had banished them from the shores of Ireland, he had found himself half in and half out of the ocean, wet sand sticking to his short beard and seaweed wrapped around his ankles. Fortunately it had been nighttime when he’d awakened on a strange beach and no one had seen him, naked and disoriented. He’d lifted his head and searched until his gaze landed on a lighthouse up the beach a bit.

Under the cover of darkness, he’d stumbled to the lighthouse. Before he’d found a way in, a small door had opened at the base of the structure. A man with white fuzzy hair and an unruly beard had stared at him.

“You’re naked, son,” he’d said.

“Aye.”

“And Irish?”

Erik had nodded once.

“You like whiskey?”

“Aye.”

“Come on in then. I’ve been around for a while and whiskey has never let me down. We’ll figure this out.”

The man had stepped aside and, having no other options, Erik had entered the lighthouse.

“Let’s get you something to wear. Looking at that thing is making me remember how not young and virile I am.” The man had waved a hand toward Erik’s crotch.

“My apologies,” Erik had mumbled, covering his privates with his hands.

“Ain’t your fault I’m as old as dirt and my bits have seen better days.” The man had chuckled and rummaged around in a chest of drawers. He’d tossed a pair of pants at Erik and waited as Erik yanked them on. They were tight, but covered the important parts. “I’m Thomas White.” He’d held a hand out and Erik shook it.

“Erik Rheagan.”

“From Ireland directly?”

“Aye.”

“Hmm.” Thomas had angled his head at Erik as if considering something. “Let’s get that whiskey and you start your tale from the beginning, son.”

Erik had wanted to tell the man his tale—the entire truth, but alas, Flidae had appeared beyond Thomas as Erik sat across from the man at a cozy, handmade table in Thomas’s kitchen on the second floor of the lighthouse. She hadn’t materialized completely, her form translucent, but her eyes sharp and commanding. And beautiful. She’d shaken her head once, and Erik had known he wouldn’t be allowed to tell Thomas what he was or how he’d come to be washed up on the beach.

“Shipwreck,” he’d ended up saying. “I swam to shore.”

“Were you alone?” Thomas had asked.

“Aye, sir.”

“Were you on your way somewhere?”

Erik had thought about that for a few quiet moments. “I was on my way here.”

Again, Thomas had angled his head as if he were trying to figure out what brand of shenanigans Erik was bringing on his doorstep. He’d finally blown out a breath. “Do you know anything about boats?”

“Aye.” He’d grown up around them and often captained one of Reardon’s ships when the army traveled.

“You need a job?”

“I suppose I do.”

Thomas had nodded. “I’ve got a big room upstairs in this lighthouse. I can deduct rent from your pay if you want a job at the marina I own.”

Not having any other course of action at that moment, Erik had agreed. “Thank you, sir.”

Thomas had waved his hand. “Thomas. Just Thomas. Not sir. I’m not fancy enough for that, son.”

Erik had been staying in the room above Thomas’s quarters since then. How long? He’d lost track. What did it matter anyway? The only thing that did matter was getting back to Ireland, his time. While this time had many advantages, he needed to return home. The longer he was away, the more he worried.

“Erik?” Thomas’s voice sailed up the winding staircase now.

After pulling on a pair of cargo shorts and a White Marina T-shirt, Erik leaned over the railing. “Aye?”

“Oh, I wasn’t sure if you were here or not. Can you head over to the marina a little early this morning? I’ve got to go to that appointment.” Thomas appeared at the top of the staircase, one hand rubbing his right knee.

“I can, but you didn’t have to climb all those stairs to ask me.” Erik pulled out a chair he had by a small table and motioned for Thomas to sit.

“If I can’t climb these stairs, tie cement blocks to my ankles and toss me overboard, son.”

Thomas was always saying things like that, but the truth of the matter was the man had arthritis in his legs. Years of bobbing on the high seas at the helms of all manner of boats did that to a lad.

“I’m not tossing you overboard,” Erik said for the millionth time.

Thomas accepted the glass of orange juice Erik handed him. “Eh, one of the other guys will do it.”

That was most likely true. Erik had found some of the other lads that worked at Thomas’s marina to be... what was the word they used in this time?

Assholes.

From the first day Erik had shown up at the marina with Thomas, some of the other workers didn’t like him. Erik wasn’t sure if it was because he’d just appeared one day, or because Thomas had taken an instant liking to him, or because he lived in Thomas’s lighthouse, or because he always knew how to fix a boat. He also wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the knowledge to be able to fix these boats in this time. They were unlike any of the ships he’d captained and maintained back home in Ireland, yet every problem the other lads couldn’t solve, he could.

When he thought about it, he guessed it could be all these reasons combined that made some of Thomas’s other employees jealous of him. They never missed a chance to hurl insults his way or gang up on him when Thomas wasn’t around. He did his best to ignore them, but often his claws extended and he’d have to press them into his palms to keep from ripping into the lads as he knew he could. The last thing he needed was to shift and hurt one of them. He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Not again.

Shaking his head now, he drank his own glass of orange juice and focused on Thomas. The man’s face was weathered as any good seaman’s face should be and his bushy white beard was coarse and wild. His blue eyes, however, were the kindest eyes Erik had ever encountered. They were windows into an equally kind soul—one that Erik had benefitted from greatly since washing up on the Rhode Island shore by the lighthouse. With Thomas around, Erik didn’t feel as alone.

He wasn’t accustomed to being alone. Being a member of Reardon’s army meant never being without company. Other warriors were always around, in battle and in peace. The steady presence of the other lads kept Erik from dwelling too much on leaving his own family years ago.

He’d been nineteen at the time and working with his father as a merchant in Ireland. His days had been spent at the ports, receiving goods, shipping goods, receiving goods, shipping goods. All he’d done was lift and move heavy loads. While he didn’t mind the exercise, the work was rather dull so when Reardon and his army had trampled through—looking powerful and imposing—Erik had seen an opportunity for adventure and wealth.

Without his father noticing, he’d approached Reardon and asked, “Are you looking for more lads?”

Reardon had given him an appraising glance from head to toe. Even at nineteen, Erik had muscles. His daily work at the ports had built them up. “Lads like you?”

“Aye.”

“Always.” Then Reardon had scanned the busy port. “You realize you could be killed doing what we do, aye?”

Erik surveyed the men around Reardon. Each of them was a hulking mountain of a lad, but none of them appeared to be much older or bigger than he was. They hadn’t looked as if the warrior life was doing them any harm. In fact, they were dressed in fine armor, appeared to be well fed, and the crowd of lasses milling about told him they never lacked female companionship. They had a few scars and healing wounds, but that just made them look all the more fearsome.

“Aye.” He’d been ready for that lifestyle. More than ready. “My father has worked hard for everything and yet, he doesn’t have a fraction of what you have. I don’t want to live that life. I want to work hard and enjoy myself. I want more.”

Reardon had chuckled and clapped him on the back. “We have more. Much more. What’s your name?”

“Erik Rheagan.”

Reardon had held out his hand and introduced himself along with his brother, Jaemus, and his two cousins, Kole and Shawn. They’d welcomed him and told him to meet them at a local tavern come nightfall. He’d turned away from his father that night and thanked the heavens his mother had already passed. He’d made a promise to himself that he’d bring his first load of riches back to his father along with an explanation he was certain his father would accept after seeing the wealth he offered.

Only when he returned, his family was not as he’d left it. He’d found his father living with a lass and fawning all over a wee one. A baby girl.

Rianne.

“I’m glad to see you, son, and that you are well,” his father had said, the tiny babe cradled in his arms, “but when you left, I thought it was for good. I made myself another family. I’m too young a fellow to live out my days alone.”

Which had been true. Erik didn’t blame his father for moving on and the moment his gaze had connected with Rianne’s—his sister’s—he’d known he’d be winning battles for her and sending his earned treasures her way. She’d captured his heart with her first giggle. He’d do anything to make sure her life was wonderful.

And Rianne’s life had been wonderful with her big brother checking in and the unwavering love of doting parents. When their father died suddenly, however, Rianne’s mother fell apart. She no longer took proper care of Rianne and Erik had to step in. He’d done what he could, fighting with Reardon to keep the riches coming in and making sure Rianne had what she needed.

The other warriors didn’t know about Rianne. Something about keeping her completely separate from that way of life kept him from telling them about her. He feared that if they knew of her existence, somehow what they all did would taint Rianne. She was pure and good and innocent. Erik wanted her to stay that way. She didn’t need to know the world could be a horrible place full of bloodshed. She unfortunately already knew that pain existed. Erik could tell she missed their father terribly and her heart was broken over her mother’s neglect. He didn’t want to add to it by telling her what he did—or who he killed—to provide for her.

He had to get back to Ireland though. Rianne had to be wondering where he was. He would have checked in on her by now. She’d be getting suspicious. He definitely didn’t want to be the reason her heart broke again. All he had to do was something worthy, but was Flidae watching anymore? Would she still send him back if he learned his lesson?

Would he ever get to know what her body felt like wrapped around his?

“Erik.” Snapping fingers brought him back to Thomas still sitting at his table. “Where’d you go, son?”

Erik shrugged, pushing the vision of a naked Flidae out of his mind. “Nowhere.” Nowhere he could actually go anyway. He couldn’t return home yet, and being with Flidae would never happen. Goddesses didn’t mix with humans—or werewolves—like that. Why would they want to?

“If you weren’t such a genius when it came to fixing boats, I would have cut you loose already for the way you zone out sometimes.” Thomas finished the rest of his orange juice and stood. “Live in the now, Erik. No sense in living in yesterday and tomorrow’s not here yet.” He shuffled to the staircase. “Now get your ass to the marina. I’m off to my appointment.”

“Aye. See you later.”

Thomas gave him a wave and disappeared—slowly—down the winding steps.

Erik took the rest of his orange juice and wandered over to the large windows that spanned the hexagonal room he called home.

For now.

He gazed out at the ocean, a pink haze of sunrise reflecting off the surface. The August day would be a hot one. Erik could tell. A few fishing boats already dotted the water, eager to fill their nets. Inhaling fresh, sea-salted air through the open window, he couldn’t help smelling the shores of his beloved Ireland.

I’m coming, Rianne.

Chapter Two

“What nonsense are you spewing, Gwyd?” Flidae shrugged off Gwyd’s hold and turned away from the not-Erik wolf still slumbering in the brush. “I can’t be with Erik. I can’t love him.”

“The way I see it,” Gwyd said, “you deserve a reward for your time spent imprisoned by Baglor. I can give you that reward.” He raised his hands and wiggled his fingers. “I am the god of enchantment after all. What’s more enchanting than love?”

Flidae plucked a cattail from the water’s edge and ran her fingers over the soft, caterpillar-like top. “Has this reward been approved?”

Such a thing had to go through the proper channels before becoming reality. She’d worked her way around the rules once before by banishing her wolves after they’d killed in battle. According to ancient laws, they should have lost their lives. The powers she answered to hadn’t liked what she’d done, but technically she hadn’t broken the rules. The wolves couldn’t be forced to fall victim to the old ways if they were in a future time and if they’d met a challenge posed by a goddess. Four of the wolves had met her challenge, so if they’d wanted to return to their time, they could have. They’d all decided, however, to stay in the future with their soul mates.

All except Erik whom Flidae was... what was she doing? Punishing him? Protecting him? Keeping him from finding his soul mate? That last question made her chest hurt because it was the most honest question with a most honest answer of yes. If all four of the something-worthies her other wolves had done had involved soul mates, wouldn’t Erik’s too? The idea of him falling in love with someone, however, left her feeling hollow.

And a little furious.

“I have no right to love him, Gwyd.” She tossed the cattail to the ground, angry at herself for falling prey to something so... so human.

“Maybe not, but it doesn’t change that you do, for whatever reason.” Gwyd straightened the folds of his cloak as he walked toward her. “What if you could, for a time, experience human love with your wolf? Would you want that?”

Flidae hadn’t allowed herself the luxury of imagining this possibility. She thought about Erik. Often. Too often. But she hadn’t let her silly daydreams run wild. What was the point?

“How long of a time are we talking about?” she asked instead of dismissing Gwyd’s question, ridiculous as it was.

Gwyd squinted one eye and puckered out his lips. “One month. I could send you to the human realm—as a true human—for one month. You wouldn’t have your goddess gifts, no magick. You’d be a regular human with a fair shot of getting Erik to love you.”

“And then what? If he does fall in love with me?”

Gwyd’s mouth turned down at the corners. “My magick only has so much power, wild goddess. After a month’s time, you’d have to return to your duties.”

“Who would oversee my duties to wild things while I was off playing human for a month?”

“I would. I’d accept your responsibilities then hand them back to you when your time is up.” He picked up the cattail Flidae had discarded and pointed the tip at her so it grazed her chin. “The question you have to ask yourself is would a month with Erik be better than nothing at all? Will you be able to say goodbye to him when the time comes?”

Flidae snatched the cattail out of Gwyd’s hand, the tickling sensation on her chin causing anger to well up inside her. “How do I know he’d fall in love with me? Maybe I’ll appear to him in human form and he won’t notice me.”

Gwyd laughed. “Are you serious? Have you such doubts about my magick, Flidae? I said you’d be human, but there’ll be nothing average about you. In fact, I can drop you into the human realm as a human and you can pursue any male you want just to get this love thing out of your system. Doesn’t have to be Erik, and trust me, all human males will want you. Gods, the females will want you too. You’ll be breathtaking. No one will refuse your advances. As far as actual love though... that’s up to you to work on.”

“I need time to think about this.” She couldn’t answer right now. Her mind was too jumbled, her heart too... hopeful.

Gwyd nodded. “Understandable. You know where to find me.” He backed away onto the path he’d created into her conjured surroundings. “Don’t think about it too long though. A reward like this has an expiration date.”

In a haze of blue fog, Gwyd was gone, and Flidae was left standing by the waterfall. Alone.

But I don’t have to be alone.

She walked over to the rusty red wolf and crouched to regard the lovely beast. It wasn’t hard for her mind to summon a picture of the real Erik in human form and wasn’t that just as lovely? Her fingertips tingled in anticipation of touching the contours of his chiseled chest, his square jaw, his toned arms. If she took Gwyd up on his offer, she could actually act on her desires.

Is one month enough time?

One lunar cycle was a short time to a goddess who had existed for as long as Flidae had. It would go by in the blink of an eye, but that quick stay in the human realm as a human had the potential to bring her so much. She’d be able to experience love.

Real.

True.

Love.

With Erik.

She was fairly confident he had feelings for her. His thoughts, unlike the other wolves, never were of a negative nature when it came to her. In fact, she always got the sense Erik was deliberately trying not to think of her, which could only mean he was hiding his true feelings from her and quite possibly himself. Those true feelings could be loathsome, but if the way he tried so hard not to look at her directly told her anything, it was because those feelings were something else entirely.

If she were going to accept Gwyd’s offer, she wanted uninterrupted time with Erik to make the most of each moment. Before she’d come to sit out in her gardens, however, she’d become aware that one of Baglor’s old raven shifters—one that Jessica Fairheart had rescued—had found Erik’s current position in Rhode Island. He’d shown Jessica, also a raven shifter, the location and Jessica had told her soul mate, Shawn McMannus. By now, Reardon and the others knew where Erik was too. If Flidae knew anything about the pack of werewolves, they were already preparing to travel to Rhode Island and bring Erik back into their circle.

Not yet.

With a wave of her hand, the waterfall scene erased with a lilac-scented breeze and Flidae traveled to the future. Specifically Canville, Vermont. Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary, where Reardon and his mate Brandy lived and worked. Of course, the pack was assembled near their vehicles in the sanctuary’s parking lot and Kole was outlining the fastest travel route to Rhode Island.

“If we take route 91...” He traced a map, but Brandy’s boy, Dylan, waved a rectangular box at Kole.

“Plug in the address here, Uncle Kole.”

Kole took the box. “Aye, I forgot about GPS. I’ve traveled most of this country by motorcycle without such luxuries.” He tapped the box and nodded. “The GPS is saying route 91 too.”

“Of course it is,” Nika, Jaemus’s mate, said. “It’s the best way to go.”

Jessica shook her head, stretched her arms out to her sides, and smiled. “The best way to go is by flying.”

“Raven shifters can be so smug.” Shawn jabbed his mate in the ribs, but then tugged her in close for a kiss.

“I just can’t believe we know where Erik is,” Reardon said. “We’ll finally have everyone back together.”

“And we’ll get another uncle?” Kylie, Kole and Emma’s adopted daughter, asked. The little werewolf got excited about extending her family after not having one for so long.

“Aye,” Kole said. “Another uncle to wrap around your pinkie finger.”

Kylie giggled when Kole tugged on her ponytail, then she hopped over to Dylan. Flidae watched just out of sight as the young wolfgirl started a chase game with the boy who would grow up to protect all these wolves and more.

“Okay, I’ve got snacks.” Brandy walked over with a big cardboard box. She set it down on the ground in front of the group and doled out bags to each of the women.

“Thanks, Mom,” Jaemus said in a boyish voice, causing everyone to laugh.

“Hey, I take care of all wolves, even the ones who occasionally stand on two legs instead of four.”

“And soon you’ll have one more to take care of,” Shawn said.

“No, you won’t.” Flidae stepped out of the woods and met all their stares, one-by-one.

Emma put her hand up as if telling a secret and said in a hushed voice, “I thought she wasn’t going to pop in on us anymore.”

Flidae floated closer to the group. “I wasn’t until I learned you were going to get Erik.”

“Jessica found him,” Shawn said, his arm going around his mate’s shoulders.

“Well, Carrid did actually. I saw Erik through my raven shifter friend’s eyes,” Jessica said.

Reardon stepped to the front of the group. “We need to see him, bring him back with us, get the whole pack together again.” The sincerity of Reardon’s intentions rang out, loud and clear. He truly did want to find his last banished warrior, but he’d have to wait.

“I understand what you want, wolf,” Flidae said.

“Then why are you trying to stop us?” Jaemus sidled up next to his brother.

“Erik is not ready to be among you.” I’m not ready to let him be among you. She hoped her face didn’t give away her lie.

“Why not?” Kole asked. “Is he not okay? Is he hurt?”

Of course Kole would be truly concerned for the safety of his friend. “He is fine. He’s adjusted to being a werewolf better than some of you.” Flidae gestured to the assembled group.

“Even better than me?” Brandy asked. “Because I think being a werewolf is the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“I thought I was the best thing that ever happened to you, fairy lass.” Reardon squinted at his mate, and their gentle teasing was exactly what made Flidae jealous. What they had between them—what all of these soul mate pairs had between them—was more beautiful than anything Flidae had witnessed in her years and years of existence.

Brandy sauntered over to Reardon and placed her palm over his heart. “You are the best thing. I’m a werewolf because of you so my happiness over being turned and my happiness over falling in love with you are one and the same, handsome.” She reached up onto her toes and dropped a kiss on Reardon’s cheek before turning her gaze to Flidae.

And blasted it all if that shewolf didn’t know exactly what was going on inside Flidae’s heart. Flidae felt the moment realization dawned in Brandy’s mind. In quick succession, the other females in the group, Emma, Jessica, and Nika, all came closer to Flidae, forming a semi-circle in front of her.

“I see,” whispered Brandy.

“Interesting,” Nika added.

“Why shouldn’t you go for it?” Emma asked.

Jessica reached out for Flidae, but Flidae’s form wasn’t solid enough for a touch. “It’s your turn.”

But I’m afraid. Flidae immediately tried to retract that thought, but she couldn’t. Instead she blocked the male wolves from hearing the conversation.

Brandy’s facial expression softened. It wouldn’t be love if you weren’t a little afraid.

What I felt for Jaemus scared the crap out of me, Nika thought.

Aye, Emma added. I never felt so much so fast until Kole came into my life. It knocks you off your feet.

You banishing these guys worked out wonderfully for us, Jessica began, though it was meant as a punishment for them. The happiness we’re experiencing now is unlike anything else. You should jump at the chance to feel like this.

The other women nodded in agreement.

The thought of feeling love and having to let it go made Flidae cold all over. She knew without a doubt that things with Erik could get hot. So hot. Would she be able to live her limitless life as a goddess without that heat once it was gone? She carefully blocked these thoughts from the women. If they knew she only had a month as a human, they wouldn’t approve.

Thank you for your counsel, lasses. Flidae bowed her head at them then removed the block she’d set in place.

“What just happened, angel?” Shawn asked as Jessica came to stand beside him.

“Aye,” Kole said. “Why did you cut us out?”

“Girl talk, Beast.” Emma put her arms around Kole’s waist. “Don’t trouble your man brain with it.”

Kole shrugged and squeezed Emma closer. “So we’re not going to get Erik?”

“Not today,” Brandy said.

“But eventually,” Nika added.

Jessica nodded. “When he’s ready.”

Reardon looked as if he wanted to say more, but Brandy touched his shoulder. Reardon’s hands flopped at his sides. “Okay. You’re not going to hide him on us, are you, Flidae?”

Flidae shook her head. “No. When the time is right, you will be called to see him. Wait for the call.” She rose in a cloud of white mist, her gaze lingering on the amazing women who loved her wolves.

She only hoped Erik would find her as worthy as these women.

****

Erik ran his hand along the hull of the sailboat currently in the sling at the marina. He’d pulled it out of the water to fix a crack in the keel yesterday and was pleased with the outcome. The patch was hardly visible, not that it mattered because that part of the boat was always in the water. Still, he liked when his work looked perfect.

The other lads at the marina did not.

“Keep caressing that boat, Rheagan. It’s the only action you’ll see,” Cory shouted as he stood on the platform that led to the marina’s giant steel building where boats could be worked on indoors.

The guys with Cory rumbled with laughter, but Erik ignored them as he hit the switch to lower the sailboat into the water. His gaze stayed on the boat’s descent and the noise of the sling prevented him from hearing anymore. When the boat hit the water, however, the ribbing continued.

“I’ll bet he’s never even touched a woman,” Richard said. “Have you, Potato?”

Erik clenched his teeth over the stupid nickname they’d used for him since he’d first spoken in front of them and they’d heard his Irish accent. He’d done his best to talk like them, but a stray aye and other words slipped in often. Thomas said they made fun because they knew women would love that accent and they had no hope of sounding like anything more than a couple of cavemen.

“But cavemen have muscles,” Thomas had gone on to say. “I need muscles around this marina, you know? Just don’t fuel their fires, okay?”

So Erik stayed away from them whenever possible, which made him feel the loss of Reardon and the others even more. He liked camaraderie, but he wasn’t getting any of that here. Except from Thomas. He stuck around for Thomas.

And the room in the lighthouse. And the job. And the money.

He’d thought about setting off on his own, maybe looking for the others, but figured Flidae had separated them on purpose. Once they all did their something worthies, they’d all be reunited back in Ireland. It was a nice plan and he’d stick to it until it was reality. He could be patient around these assholes. He could help Thomas, who he figured had something to do with his ticket home. He could fix boats and stay out of trouble.

“He may not have touched a woman, but I’ll bet he’s touched himself though. Every night,” Patrick added, sending Cory and Richard into deep belly laughs.

That comment wasn’t entirely false. Thinking of Flidae often left Erik no other option but to service himself so he could get some blasted sleep. It wasn’t easy when a perfect goddess infiltrated your thoughts, looking good enough to devour.

Erik’s pants tightened as Flidae’s image flashed into his mind. Damn it all. He didn’t need an erection right now. Not when...

A sharp shove sent him forward and he grabbed the railing by the sling just in time to keep himself from tumbling into the water. He turned around quickly to see Donald standing there, his arms folded across his chest and a smirk painted across his face.

“Watch your step, Potato. You don’t want to end up mashed, do you?” Donald laughed as the other guys climbed down from the platform and joined him.

Fuck. Another word Erik had picked up during his time here. It had turned out to be an extremely useful word when working with these unsavory lads even if he only said it in his head.

“Why don’t you tell us what you did do last night?” Cory adjusted his White Marina hat, leaving a grease stain on the brim.

Ignoring them, Erik continued with his task of unhooking the supports that had kept the sailboat in the sling. His fingertips tingled though as if his claws were right there. His gums felt the same, and he ran his tongue over his canines, begging them not to burst through.

“C’mon, Potato,” Richard said. “Don’t be shy. Tell us all about jerking off last night.”

The other men laughed again and Erik had to force himself to stay focused on the boat in front of him. Sometimes Thomas would catch these lads and stop their shenanigans by reminding them he paid them to work, not stand around like a couple of ninnies, gossiping. Erik would let him scold the men to keep his wolf from making an unwanted appearance.

But Thomas wasn’t here right now.

These jerks knew that. They often waited until Thomas wasn’t around to lay into Erik, and it took every ounce of his self-control to not go all furry on them. He dreamed about it though. About shifting right in front of them and watching Cory wet his drawers, Richard shit himself, and Donald and Patrick cry like wee ones as Erik chased them down with his teeth bared and his roar thundering.

But he’d done that once. Lost control. A few days after he’d arrived here. He couldn’t let that happen again.

Thinking of that night gave Erik all the resolve he needed not to shift in front of these blokes now. He didn’t like having one instance of killing in this time on his tally chart, never mind four more. He liked being in his wolf form, but his wolfman form had a crazy thirst for vengeance. That beast had to be contained.

Which wasn’t easy.

“Maybe he can’t tell us,” Patrick said. “Maybe his mouth is sore from taking dick all night. Maybe that’s what he’s been doing.”

Ignore them. Ignore them. Ignore them. Erik repeated those two words over and over again as he continued working. How long had Thomas been gone? Was he on his way back? And how much did he hate himself for wishing for an old man to come save him?

Actually Thomas would be saving them, his wolf thought.

True. If he shifted right now, today would be their last day. He was sure of it. Maybe the time to move on had come. If he’d found a job here, he could most likely find a job elsewhere. Surely, there had to be other people like Thomas willing to take a chance on a strange lad just showing up.

But I owe Thomas. And that alone kept him from bailing on the man.

Erik hopped onto the sailboat now that it was free from the sling and stood at the helm. He slid the key into the ignition but not before Cory said, “Nah, he doesn’t suck dick, fellas. I think Potato doesn’t like pussies or dicks. I think he’s a freak.”

You have no idea.

The sailboat’s engine drowned out whatever else the guys said and Erik motored toward the boat’s slip. How he wished he could take it out for a sail instead of returning it to its resting place. Sea winds would blow the lads’ taunting away and clear Erik’s head. He’d have to settle for a wolf run later tonight. That always left his anger in the dirt where it belonged.

He’d been shocked when Reardon had turned him, but his wolf fur was rather comfortable. When his paws hit soil and climbed over rock, a connection to Earth filled the empty spaces inside him. He didn’t worry so much about what was happening with Rianne back home when he was wolfed out. He didn’t think of Flidae as much when he had four legs and big ears. He didn’t want things he couldn’t have when his human brain surrendered to the wolf.

Aye, a run. That would be the remedy. He just had to make it through the day first.

As he navigated the sailboat into the slip and secured it to the dock, Erik wondered what Reardon, Jaemus, Kole, and Shawn were doing. Were they all right? Were they hurt? Were they back in Ireland already? Were they wondering where he was?

He had no idea how long it was going to take him to do his something worthy. Maybe the other men had completed their tasks. With that thought, he wished he’d told them about Rianne. Perhaps they would have checked on her for him if they’d known about her. He worried daily—and nightly—about her. At fourteen, she could take care of herself to an extent, but Erik had done everything he could to keep her sheltered. He had wanted to do all he could to keep a smile on her face despite the loss of their father and her mother’s disregard. How was she faring without him?

Growling now, Erik shook his head and stalked up the dock, deciding to bury himself in his next task and leave the worrying for later. A quick glance toward the steel building told him the lads had gone back to work too, so he prepared to head in the opposite direction and go to Thomas’s office. He had discovered he had a good head for numbers and Thomas often asked him to check over the books. Doing that would keep him hidden until Thomas came back from his appointment.

Before he could make it all the way to Thomas’s office, however, a woman stepped in front of him.

Veronica “Roni” Hamilton. Wife of Derek Hamilton, billionaire businessman and luxury yacht owner.

“Where are you off to?” Roni had a voice like silk and walked with a sway to her hips no man could ignore. She also had a husband that would crush you if you so much as looked at her.

Of course, Erik didn’t worry about getting crushed. He was quite capable of doing his own crushing.

“Mrs. Hamilton.” He nodded once at her in greeting, deliberately looking a little past her. “Just heading to the office.”

“I’ll walk with you.” She looped her arm around his and tugged him closer.

Erik scanned the parking lot, but didn’t see Derek’s Mercedes.

“My husband is golfing today,” she whispered in his ear. “In Florida.”

He wasn’t sure where Florida was, but he did know it was a different state than Rhode Island. “Are you taking your boat out?” He couldn’t help but notice she wore a nearly see-through cover-up over a tiny bikini. As far as female bodies went, Roni had a killer one. Everything was tanned, toned, and tempting.

Roni shook her head, her long blonde hair shushing around her shoulders. “No. Just thought I’d get a little writing done by the water. Unless...” She stopped walking and because she still had a grip on his arm, so did Erik. “Unless you’re free to be my captain. My stories can wait if you want to take a sail.”

Warning trumpets blared between Erik’s ears. If Derek found out he’d been on the Hamiltons’ boat, just him and Roni, Erik would earn a spot at the top of Derek’s crushing list.

No thanks.

Roni was a hot lass, but not worth the trouble. Besides, she wasn’t the hot lass Erik wanted. The one he wanted... well, he couldn’t have her.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Hamilton,” he said, peeling her hand off his arm and taking a step toward the office, “I’ve got so much to do. Thomas is out right now and I’m in charge.”

Her red, red lips turned down at the corners, but he couldn’t see her eyes behind her dark sunglasses. He had a sense they were sad eyes. Veronica Hamilton seemed... lonely.

But that’s not my problem. Erik had plenty of problems that were his. He couldn’t take on Roni too.

“I understand, handsome.” She gave him a forced smile, the muscles around her mouth tight. She gave him a wave then swiveled on her sandal to sway those hips to the dock and down to her boat. The mast leaned to the left and to the right as she jostled the craft boarding it, and Erik reconsidered his answer to captain her boat for a moment. It was a gorgeous summer day and perfect sailing weather.

Shaking his head, he jogged to the office instead. He’d done the right thing in refusing her offer. His penis didn’t necessarily agree, but his penis wasn’t in command.

Thank the gods.

If it were, he would have found a way to plunge himself deep inside Flidae the first time he’d seen her. If he closed his eyes, he could envision her as she’d appeared to the men right before banishing them. She’d been angry, but more beautiful than any lass Erik had ever set his gaze on. He found himself wanting to wrap his arms around her though her form was translucent and she clearly wasn’t actually in the human world. She was just a presence, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting her.

Every time she’d appeared to him since then, he’d wanted her more. Lately, however, she’d been visiting him less and less. Maybe she’d grown bored with him. Maybe she thought he was wasting his wolf by staying here in this one place. Maybe she didn’t care what he did.

Maybe she saw him as something that shouldn’t exist. He wasn’t a natural werewolf. He hadn’t been born under her domain as a true wild thing. He’d been turned without her approval. He was a human that could change into a wolf.

I am a freak.

Erik let out another growl. He was a mess today. He had to concentrate on work and forget his asshole coworkers, Veronica Hamilton’s offer, and one enchanting goddess he had no chance of ever having. He had to do his something worthy and get back to Rianne. No more fighting. No more killing. No more riches earned in blood. He’d get a respectable job back in Ireland, maybe at the ports where he’d started with his father. He’d make enough money to support himself and Rianne. Perhaps, if he was lucky, he’d find a nice Irish lass and make a family of his own.

He could live a normal life.

Maybe.

Chapter Three

Flidae paced before the giant redwood tree Gwyd often used as his home image. It had an intricately carved door full of spiraling Celtic knotwork at the base of the tree and wind chimes hung in the branches, creating music fit for enchantment. Beyond the door, a lavish palace opened up inside the tree and again due to Gwyd’s magick, the space was larger than it had a right to be.

Normally, she enjoyed visiting this place. Gwyd was, after all, one of the more entertaining gods. He never took his responsibilities too seriously and he was often charged with making humans happy with his spells. Where Flidae spent most of her time dealing with creatures, Gwyd intervened with mostly humans. She had to admit to being envious of him. While she enjoyed her wild things, humans were intriguing with their complicated minds and even more complicated hearts.

Time to connect with one of those complicated hearts.

After speaking with her wolves’ soul mates, Flidae had made her decision. She would take Gwyd up on his offer of becoming human as a reward for enduring imprisonment in Baglor’s realm—something that never should have happened in the first place. Her... attachment to Erik had caused her to let her guard down. Baglor easily captured her when he appeared to her in Erik’s form, making promises she’d foolishly accepted. Once she’d followed him, it’d been too late to turn back.

She wasn’t sure what made her angrier. The fact that Baglor had duped her so effortlessly or that she’d wanted Erik so badly. As a goddess, she should have been smarter than that. She should have been able to resist.

Flidae stopped pacing. What if Gwyd’s offer was a trick too? What if becoming a human wasn’t even possible? What if she was letting her desire for Erik cloud her judgment?

Again.

She stomped a hoof and prepared to shift into a mare. She could be away from Gwyd’s home in mere moments, fleeing on four powerful legs, her mane flowing.

“Not a trick, Flidae.” Suddenly Gwyd was standing in the open doorway of his tree. “You know me. I don’t waste magick on tricks.” He stepped beyond the threshold. “Besides, I like you. I wouldn’t offer a reward unless it was truly a reward.”

The truth of his words kept her from shifting and she walked toward him. “I guess I’m just...”

“Nervous,” Gwyd finished. “Love is a pretty big thing. If it weren’t, they’d let us gods and goddesses have it, but we can’t be distracted by such an emotion if we are to carry out our duties.”

“That’s the other issue,” Flidae said. “I don’t feel right about dumping my responsibilities on you.”

Gwyd shook his head. “It’s not dumping if I offered to take them, wild goddess.”

She angled her head at him. “Why are you so nice?”

He shrugged. “Part of my charm.” He bowed then grinned. “So, you’ve made a decision, haven’t you?”

Flidae sifted out a long breath. “I have.” She was a powerful goddess. She could do this. Be human for a month. It would be an interesting experience.

Gwyd laughed.

“What?” Flidae stared at him.

“Your face says many things.”

“Such as?” She folded her arms and tapped a hoof.

“Such as ‘I’m not so sure about this.’”

“Well, how could I be sure? Has any god or goddess done this before?”

“Become human for a time?” Gwyd nodded. “Yes. For the purpose of loving a werewolf? No.”

“Am I crazy for wanting to do this?”

“Possibly, but what does it hurt to try? If nothing else, you get a month-long vacation from overseeing the affairs of wild things. Maybe you’ll return with some lessons learned about wild things in the human world. Think of the entire adventure as research.”

“You make everything sound so practical, Gwyd.”

“Shush now. I’m the god of enchantment, not practicality. You’ll ruin my image.” He winked at her and took her hands in his. “You deserve this, Flidae. I saw what happened while you were in Baglor’s realm. Saw and was powerless to help you.” He squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he pulled her into a hug. “We’re friends, you and I, aren’t we?”

“Of course.”

“Then take this as a gift and make the most of it,” he whispered in her ear.

Before she could reply, a bright spark of blue flared up all around her, rising from her hoofed feet and completely engulfing her body. She no longer saw Gwyd’s tree and suddenly she didn’t feel the ground beneath her either. She got tossed about like a feather on a strong wind and when she landed, her hands were full of sand.

“Sand?” She raised her hands and let the grains sift through her fingers. When she rubbed her palms together, the grit showered into her lap. She felt each bit of sand as it hit her long, bare legs.

My legs?

She ran a hand along a pale thigh and drew it back quickly at its firmness, its realness. Whenever she’d visited the human realm before, her form was never quite solid, but she was here now. As real as she’d ever been.

Squinting, she took in sunshine reflecting off a vast body of water and instantly knew where she was. She sprung to her feet and turned around to see it.

The lighthouse. Erik’s lighthouse.

Of course she knew it actually belonged to the old man, Thomas, but she’d come to associate that lighthouse with Erik. It was where she imagined lying next to him on the simple bed he had in that hexagonal room on the third floor of the lighthouse.

Now I’ll get to truly be in that room. In that bed. If all went according to plan of course.

“Time to get started on that plan.” She quickly surveyed the area, surprised other humans weren’t enjoying the beach during this time of day. Then she spotted a sign stating the beach was Private. Beyond the lighthouse, however, a crowd of beachgoers enjoyed a fine summer afternoon by the water.

Flidae wondered what time it was. Would Erik be at the lighthouse now or would he still be at work? Judging by the sun’s position high over the water, she figured it was just past noon, so she headed for the marina. She gave herself a glance, noting Gwyd’s magick had outfitted her with black shorts, a purple tank top, and bejeweled flip-flops. Crouching for a moment, she let out a laugh when she noted the embellishment on the flip-flops. A sparkling white circular bead in the center with two half moons on either side—the symbol of the goddess—adorned the black straps covering her feet.

A reminder of who you are, wild goddess, Gwyd’s voice said in her head. Enjoy.

Brushing sand off her butt, she walked up the beach toward the street, marveling over how her human body felt and moved. She spotted a sign that said Restrooms on a nearby building and ducked inside the one that had the female symbol on it. Stopping in front of the sink to look into the mirror above it, she studied her new image. It didn’t look too different from the human image she normally used, except her black hair faded to purple at the ends and fell to her shoulders in waves. Normally her hair was much longer and completely black in the version she chose when visiting the human world. Her skin was still pale, her lips still ruby red, but her breasts were a little smaller.

Very funny, Gwyd. She swore she heard him laughing.

She was about the same height and weight though, but her eyes were a pale blue instead of violet. That made sense. Humans didn’t have violet eyes. If she expected to pass as one of them, she needed to look more like one of them. Besides, she didn’t want Erik to know it was her. He wouldn’t play the game if he knew. He’d understand this couldn’t last, that she wouldn’t be allowed to stay. He wouldn’t give in to whatever feelings he might have.

No. She had to go into this experiment as someone else. She had to leave Flidae, goddess of wild things, behind.

The door of the restroom opened and bright sunlight poured in, startling her.

“Oh, sorry,” a short, blonde female said. “I didn’t know anyone was in here.”

“That’s okay,” Flidae said. “I’m all done.”

“I love your flip-flops,” the woman said, pointing down to Flidae’s feet. She pulled her unruly hair off her shoulder and turned to show a tattoo of the same symbol. “Goddesses unite! If only we had the power of a goddess, eh?” She held out her hand. “I’m Amy Barnett.”

Flidae gaped at Amy’s outstretched hand. Right. A name. She couldn’t walk around as a human with a goddess’s name. “I’m... Liddy. Liddy Dyra.” She figured the Norwegian word dyr, meaning animal, was close enough to her true roots.

“Nice to meet you, Liddy. Is that an Irish accent I detect?”

Flidae nodded once.

“Crossed the seas, did ya?” Amy chuckled as she entered the one stall and closed the door. “You have a boat here, Liddy, the Irish Lass?”

As Flidae listened to her first human acquaintance pee, she said, “Aye,” even though she had no idea what Gwyd had supplied.

“Oh, that’s nice. Phenomenal day to be by the water.” The toilet flushed and Amy emerged from the stall. She turned on the sink and washed her hands. As she wiped with a paper towel, she said, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. The views of the water are incredible here, but do not—and I mean do not—miss the view of Erik who works at the marina. Tall, muscled, scruffily bearded. And an accent like yours.” Amy put her hand to her chest and shook her head. “The man is too beautiful for words. He doesn’t talk much, but wow, is he something to see.”

Jealousy flared up in Flidae’s chest and she struggled to keep her face pleasant. What she really wanted to do was use her goddess power to strike this wench down where she stood. But she didn’t have her goddess power and the lass was only expressing an opinion. Actually, it was a fact. Erik Rheagan was something to see.

“I’ll be sure to look for him,” she managed through semi-clenched teeth.

Amy beamed a friendly smile, and Flidae’s face muscles loosened enough for her smile at this chipper lass. “Happy sightseeing.” With a giggle, Amy left the restroom.

Flidae took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror once again. “I am Liddy Dyra. I am human. I will get Erik Rheagan to love me.” After repeating that quick mantra a few more times, Flidae, goddess of wild things, stayed behind and Liddy, ordinary human, stepped out of the restroom.

She crinkled her face at the sun and scanned the marina. Erik could be anywhere and did she want to just walk up to him? No. That would be awkward. She had to make their meeting seem unplanned. Spotting a bench by the water in front of where the docks full of boats jutted out, she decided that was a good place to blend in. If Erik—or anyone else—walked by, she’d look as if she were enjoying the view. Maybe sitting on that bench would also give her an idea about how she could casually meet Erik and get his interest.

The sun warmed her as she sat and observed the few people milling about the docks. She wasn’t sure what day of the week it was, but she guessed it wasn’t the weekend that humans were so found of. Too few people were enjoying the day for it to be a weekend. Most of the humans had to be at work.

Which reminded her... she stood and checked the pockets of her shorts and let out a breath when she found a wallet, complete with money, an ID, and the other cards human existence required.

I know how to do this right, Gwyd said in her mind. You have a boat too.

I do? She lowered back to the bench.

Aye. Dock 5, slip 11. Keys are in your other pocket.

Liddy immediately popped off the bench and dug into the left front pocket of her shorts. Sure enough, a small starfish keychain held a set of keys. Shading her eyes with her hand to her brow, she counted until she found Dock 5. It was to her right so she stuffed the wallet back in her pocket and walked along that dock until she got to slip 11. A mid-sized sailboat creaked against bumpers as the water bobbed it gently about its lines.

Wild Thing was emblazoned in bright purple on the stern and Liddy clamped a hand over her mouth to contain her laughter.

Oh, Gwyd...

Chuckling to herself, she stepped aboard the boat and used her key to open the cabin below deck. The accommodations were perfect for a month’s stay. Clean. Nautical-themed décor. A small head, galley, and combination dining area that turned into a bed.

A bed roomy enough for two.

“This will do nicely,” Liddy said as she turned in a circle and checked out the tiny refrigerator. Empty. “First order of business is to stock you. I’ve never been hungry before, but I think that’s what this hollow feeling in my stomach is.” The prospect of eating human food excited her. She’d watched humans enjoy a great variety of meals and had always wondered what all the fuss was about. Now she’d finally know.

After disembarking from the boat, Liddy wandered back toward the parking lot, intent on finding a place to buy food. She meandered past a steel building and male voices wafted out. Pausing, she closed her eyes, listening to see if any of the voices were Erik’s, but they weren’t. None of them had the deep timbre, the sexy growling undertones, the Irish accent.

When she opened her eyes, a man stood in front of her.

“You’re new here.” His voice was scratchy and his face was not even close to the masterpiece that Erik’s was. Hard brown eyes stared at her—well, at her legs anyway—and a tight mouth sneered up in one corner. His gaze settled on her chest and he licked his dry lips.

Uneasiness instantly flooded Liddy’s system. Without her goddess powers, she didn’t know the first thing about defending herself should she need to. “Aye. I am.”

“Aye?” The man rolled his eyes. “You sound like Potato.” He turned toward the steel building where three other men were milling around the huge, open double doors. “Hey, guys. We got ourselves another leprechaun over here.”

“Does Ireland think we’re a goddamned dumping ground?” Another man joined the one standing in front of Liddy. “Although this one seems like an upgrade compared to Rheagan, don’t you think?”

Now that she had a chance to look at these two more closely and the two that had jogged over, she recognized them as the lads who gave Erik a hard time on an almost continual basis. She’d been tempted a few times to reach out to Erik and tell him he could use his wolf on these bastards, but then she’d be going against her own rules about what the wolves could be used for.

What she wouldn’t do for her goddess powers right now. She’d love to teach them a lesson. Maybe drop them into the ocean and summon up some starving sharks.

“An upgrade for sure.” The first guy made a circle around her as if appraising her from all sides.

“I was looking for—”

“A good time?” one of the other guys finished, causing laughter to rise up from them all. “Lucky you ran into us then.”

“We are definitely a good time,” another man said. He gave her breasts the same visual attention the first man had.

“I just need to buy some food to stock my boat.” Stay calm. She couldn’t let them see they were ruffling her. “Is there a store nearby?”

“We can take you to a store.” A third man reached out and took hold of her elbow while the other three surveyed the immediate area. He nudged her into a walk, but she didn’t want to go anywhere with them.

“Listen. I can get food another time. I think I’ll go back to my boat.” She tried to free herself, but the bastard’s grip tightened.

“We wouldn’t be doing our jobs, miss, if we didn’t see that you were properly... serviced.” Another round of laughter erupted, but not loud enough to draw any real attention. Any boat owners at the marina were already down at the docks on or near their boats. No other marina personnel appeared to be in the vicinity.

What am I going to do? She might have been able to hit one of them hard enough to run away, but four of them? Not happening. They were all bigger than her. She didn’t want to make a scene, but she didn’t see any other way.

Inhaling, she prepared to scream, hoping to draw attention to them. Before she could let the sound loose, however, the grip on her elbow let go. She was free, but just for a moment because another hand grabbed her forearm. This hand was rough-palmed, but gentle as it tugged her from the circle of men. Her gaze traced a line up a muscled forearm to a bulging bicep to a solid shoulder.

To a set of hazel eyes she’d know anywhere.

****

“Leave her alone, lads.” Erik pushed the woman behind him and folded his arms across his chest as he faced the guys. He didn’t want to have to intervene, but gods, he couldn’t stand by while they surrounded her. He’d caught a quick glimpse of her as she’d walked by the marina office, her black hair reminding him of Flidae for a moment.

But Flidae wouldn’t be walking around a marina in a pair of tiny black shorts and a purple tank top, now would she? He’d actually given his cheek a smack to pull his head out of the damn clouds.

When he’d seen the woman’s face and the fear in her big blue eyes as Donald and the others circled her, he knew he had to get out there and do something.

“Get lost, Potato,” Richard said. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Aye, it does. Thomas isn’t here right now, so that makes me the host. I want to make sure our guest here has a positive experience at White Marina.” Positive and safe and bastard-free.

“We’re going to give her a positive experience, douchebag. Now, scram.” Cory took a step forward to move around Erik, but Erik slid to his left and blocked him. These guys were not going to lay a hand on this woman, whoever she was.

Cory ratcheted his arm back. “I’ve been waiting a long time to deck you, Rheagan. I think today’s the day.”

“No. It isn’t.” Patrick put his hand on Cory’s raised arm. “Thomas just pulled in the parking lot. Let’s go.”

Relief washed over Erik, but he didn’t budge in his rigid stance. He stayed like a statue as Cory, Patrick, and Richard walked off in separate directions. Then he turned to Donald, who was chomping on a piece of gum, still eyeing the woman like the last chocolate bar in the break room vending machine.

“Until we meet again, lass.” Donald bowed before her then shoved past Erik, banging into Erik’s shoulder on the way.

It took all of Erik’s self control not to run after Donald as he walked away. Gods, he wanted to pound on the bastard’s face until it was unrecognizable. Until blood poured from every opening. Until... until...

“Thank you.”

Her soft voice surprised him and he whirled around. “Are you all right?” He focused on her sky blue eyes as she nodded. Her hands went to her hair and she gathered all of it, winding it into a tight coil of black and... purple? Aye, the ends were indeed purple. Why did he like that?

She let her hair go and the twist loosened on her shoulder. Shifting her weight on flip-flop-covered feet, her bottom lip trembled a bit. “I thought they were going to... I thought...” Her voice shook and Erik had only a second to step forward and catch her as she passed out. Her body was light in his hold, her hair draped over his forearm.

“Lass?” He used his other hand to press two fingers to her throat. Her pulse was strong albeit a little fast. The anxiety of the almost situation must have overloaded her system. He glanced around the marina, trying to decide what to do with her. He had no idea which boat was hers or if she was even a customer. She could have been a beachgoer on a walk, enjoying the day.

And those bastards ruined it for her. A low growl sounded in his throat as he hoisted the lass into his arms and stalked back to the office.

Once inside, he lowered her to the couch Thomas had in the office and sat beside her. He wasn’t entirely sure what he should do, but figured waking her was probably the right thing.

“Lass.” He jostled her shoulder a little, noting how soft her pale skin was under his rough fingertips. Her red lips were parted slightly and he had a stupid desire to take that as an invitation. Then he’d be no better than the other guys, trying to take advantage of her. No. That wasn’t who he was, but it’d been too long since he’d tasted a lass’s kiss, felt a lass’s body wrapped around his.

She let out a groan and scrunched up her legs.

“Lass,” Erik said, louder this time.

Slowly, her eyes opened and she blinked up at him. “What happened?” She quickly rose to her elbows as her gaze darted around the room.

“You passed out. I carried you to the marina office. Do you want some water?” He stood, suddenly feeling too close to her on the couch.

“Aye, thank you.” Her accent made something familiar vibrate inside him, probably because it sounded like his own.

He peeked at her as he poured water from a bottle into a paper cup. He’d never seen her before around the marina. At least he didn’t think he had. White Marina boasted a large number of customers. It was possible he’d never crossed paths with her until today.

But then again, the other lads had treated her as new as well. New and as if she were a piece of raw meat thrown into a hungry lion cage. He shook his head and decided Thomas needed to hear about this. He could deal with it if the guys busted his stones, but to prey on this woman, a possible customer no less? He couldn’t let that slide. It was bad for Thomas’s business at the very least.

Walking back to the couch, he held out the cup of water. “Here. Drink this. Nice and slow.”

She took the cup. “Thanks, Erik.”

He froze with his hand still on the cup, her fingers touching his. “How did you know my name?”

A blush stained her cheeks and she gave him a shy grin. “I ran into a marina customer in the restroom earlier. She told me the views of the water were something to see but not nearly as good as the view of Erik Rheagan.”

“And you figured I was Erik Rheagan?” He let go of the cup and regrettably, her fingers.

She took a sip of water then waved a hand toward him. “It’s an impressive view.”

Now it was his turn to blush. He felt the heat of it on his cheeks. “I don’t know that it’s as impressive as the ocean.”

“I know it’s far better than the view I got of those four bastards.” She tossed back the rest of the water and set the cup on the table beside the couch. Swinging her legs over, she sat upright then cradled her head in her hands. “If you hadn’t come by...”

A shiver rippled through her and instinctively, Erik sat beside her again. His arm went around her shoulders without his permission, but she didn’t shrug him off so he squeezed a little.

“But I did and you’re all right now, aye?” He hooked her hair behind her ear so he could see her face. Gods, the strands were as silky as they looked. And she smelled like... dew-drenched woods in springtime.

Where did that come from?

He wasn’t usually so poetic. He also didn’t usually react to women like this. Not since meeting Flidae and allowing her to consume his fantasies. He could honestly say he hadn’t thought of Flidae in the last few moments though while being with... with...

“I don’t know your name,” he said. “You guessed mine, but who are you, lass?”

Her thin, black eyebrows rose as her blue eyes widened. “Oh, sorry. I’m Liddy Dyra.”

“Do you have a boat here, Liddy Dyra?” He rather liked the way her name felt on his tongue.

“Aye. Dock 5, slip 11.”

“Would you like me to walk you back to your boat?” Although he could be content to sit with her on this couch for the rest of the day. Possibly longer.

“I was actually hunting for somewhere to buy food. My refrigerator on board is empty.” She ran her hands through her hair and Erik became mesmerized with the way the strands shushed back into place. He sat on his free hand to keep it from doing something stupid. Like petting her.

“I can show you where to buy food. I just need to—”

“Erik?” Thomas appeared in the doorway. “Oh, there you are. I’ve been calling you. Why didn’t you pick up?”

Because I’ve been ignoring everything except for this lovely lass.

Thomas stepped into the office and came to an abrupt halt when he saw Liddy. And Erik’s arm still around her shoulders. “Oh. I see.”

Reluctantly, Erik let his arm slip back to his side, his hand resting on his own thigh. “No. You don’t see.” He didn’t usually take such a tone with Thomas. The man had been nothing but nice to him, but his willingness to let garbage like Donald, Patrick, Cory, and Richard walk about and get paychecks had to stop. “This is Liddy Dyra. She’s got a boat slipped with us and she was hassled by some of my coworkers.”

“Hassled?” Thomas’s bushy, white eyebrows rose. “What did they do?”

“I don’t want to get anyone in trouble,” Liddy said as she stood. “I should probably go.”

Erik caught her arm as she walked by. “No. Those lads bring their own trouble upon them.” He explained what they’d done and how they’d treated Liddy.

Thomas’s face beamed red and that purple vein next to his right eye had Erik worried. The man shuffled to his desk and sat behind it, a resigned breath sifting out. “I knew they were jerks,” he began. “I thought they were basically harmless though.” He shook his head then looked at Liddy, who had taken a seat on the couch again while Erik recounted the event. “Do you want to press charges, miss? Should I call the police?”

“Charges?” She waved a hand. “No. I just want to forget the whole thing.”

“Even the part where this knight came in to rescue you?” Thomas winked at her.

“Well, no. Not that part.” She elbowed Erik and that quick poke made something deep inside him wake up.

“I’ll fire them,” Thomas said. “Then you’re going to help me find four guys as big to replace them, Erik.”

I know four guys even bigger, but I have no idea where they are. Gods, he missed Jaemus, Kole, Shawn... and even Reardon.

“I can help interview, if you’d like. I’m good at looking at muscles.” Liddy wiggled her eyebrows making Thomas chuckle.

A low growl slipped from Erik’s throat instead of a laugh. The idea of her surveying muscles on other men did something funny to him. Something he didn’t like.

Liddy’s stomach let out a roar and she wrapped her arms around her torso. “What was that?”

“Someone is hungry,” Erik said. “Let’s get you to the store to fill up that refrigerator.” He turned to Thomas. “Would it be all right if I—”

“Escorted her? Of course. Take the rest of the afternoon off to make sure Liddy’s got everything she needs. Take her on a tour of the area. We owe her that much after my employees acted like creeps.”

Erik’s first instinct was to say he didn’t need to take the afternoon off, but for some reason, he didn’t say that. “Thank you, Thomas,” he said instead then turned to Liddy. “Shall we?”

She stopped at Thomas’s desk. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, miss. What happened today never should have happened. Those guys should have been fired ages ago. They haven’t treated Erik nicely and that should have been enough for me to let them go.” Thomas turned sad eyes to Erik. “I’m sorry, son. I know they’ve been pains in your ass since you got here.”

“It’s all right, Thomas. You needed their bulk. I get it.”

“No excuse. Bulk can be found anywhere.”

“Still volunteering to interview that bulk.” Liddy raised her hand, but Erik pulled her hand down and ushered her out of the office to the sound of Thomas’s laughter. “Just being helpful,” she said as Erik held open the door and let her pass in front of him.

“I’m sure Thomas and I can handle it.” He nudged her into a walk, taking a route away from the steel building and his unsavory colleagues.

When she pouted, Erik’s step faltered. Gods, those lips were something. They were no doubt capable of making a man forget his own name.

“So what part of Ireland are you from?” he asked. It’d take them about ten minutes to walk to the small market down the street from the marina. No sense in making it a silent ten minutes.

“Dublin,” she said quickly. Too quickly?

He waited for her to ask him the same question, but she didn’t. Just as well. He couldn’t be honest about when he was from.

“What kind of boat do you have?” Was he this awful at small talk with a lass? He hadn’t been back in his Ireland. Of course, there and then, he’d had his status as warrior and his riches to bolster his courage. What did he have now? A one-room home in a lighthouse he shared with Thomas and a modest paycheck.

And he was a werewolf.

Not excellent selling points by any means. He understood that. What was he doing anyway? Once he did his something worthy, he was heading right back to Ireland to be with Rianne, Reardon, and the others. He had no right to take an interest in Liddy Dyra.

Why was Flidae even allowing him to talk to her? Normally, she visited him whenever he got within a few feet of a beautiful woman. At first he’d thought it was because she’d felt something for him. Then he realized it was more likely part of their punishment. No shot at pleasure while being banished. Besides, goddesses didn’t fall for humans, even ones who were werewolves.

Flidae? he called in his mind.

No answer. Maybe she was busy with one of the other werewolves or wild things. Maybe she had no idea he had such lovely company at the moment.

Maybe he could have a little fun with Miss Liddy Dyra.

Chapter Four

Walking beside Erik, his arm brushing up against hers every now and then, was exactly how Liddy had imagined it would be. Actually, no. It was much, much better. He was taller than she’d originally calculated, those shoulders of his were broader than she’d figured, and he smelled like the ocean and warm sand. She was having a difficult time concentrating on the conversation he was trying to have with her. These very human sensations she was experiencing were all new to her. New and magnificent. All she wanted to do was lean into Erik and press her lips to his. Inhale him and carry him with her everywhere.

Patience. Humans didn’t throw themselves at each other. Not if they respected the other person... and themselves. She had time, not a great deal of it, but enough to do this right.

She couldn’t believe how easy it had been to meet Erik. She’d expected to have to contrive some situation to get into his circle, but those bastards had afforded her the perfect encounter. Liddy could have done without those lads acting like brutes and scaring her, however. She wasn’t accustomed to feeling afraid, but becoming human apparently meant she had inherited the ability to feel everything humans felt. At least Erik had been the one to come to her rescue. He did knight in shining armor really well.

“I have a 32-foot Catalina,” she said, finally answering the question he’d posed. At least that was what the manual she’d found aboard Wild Thing had said.

“Have you sailed to a lot of places?” He pointed to the left as they came to an intersection.

“No. I... I just got the boat. Figured I’d test it out in the bay this summer.” She took note of the charming seaside town unfolding around them. Quaint businesses lined the street with names like The Sea Glass Café, Gull’s Corner Books, and Sandcastles Tavern. She’d love to check them out later. Right now, she was drawn like a magnet to Erik, following him as he navigated through the light crowd of tourists filling the sidewalk.

“The bay is a good place to try everything out and get a feel for the craft. Do you have sailing experience?” Erik took the next right and weaved between people as they walked up a small hill. Most people got out of his way, somehow sensing his commanding presence even before he neared them.

“I know the basics. I’m hoping to learn more.” About a lot of things.

“I can show you some things,” Erik said. “If you don’t have anyone to show you already, that is.”

Liddy loved when his fair cheeks colored pink. The blush gave him this innocent look she found adorably sexy, though she knew he was not innocent. He’d killed men in battle, even before Reardon had turned him into a werewolf. He’d ruthlessly fought for riches.

He’d bedded many, many lasses. A man who looked like Erik Rheagan didn’t want for companionship.

“I don’t have a boyfriend or husband if that’s what you’re asking.” She gave him a sideways glance.

A soft chuckle rasped out of him, sending goosebumps skittering over Liddy’s flesh. That was new. She’d never felt anything like that—like an all-over body awakening.

“You caught me. It seemed odd to ask you outright. I thought I was being slick about it.”

She chuckled. “Not slick enough. I saw right through it.” She elbowed him lightly. “That’s okay. I don’t mind, and I’d love for you to give me some sailing tips. I take it you have experience.”

“Aye.” He stared straight ahead as if remembering something... probably his old life in Ireland. If she remembered correctly, as she’d checked in on Reardon from time to time, Erik had been captaining Reardon’s second ship when they traveled. If Reardon trusted him at the helm, he had to know what he was doing.

How badly did Erik want to get back to Ireland of his time? She attempted to connect to his mind as she’d been able to do as a goddess, but she heard nothing. Did that mean becoming human had severed that bond? Her other wolves had been able to communicate telepathically with their soul mates once the bond was made. Would that happen with her and Erik?

Could they be actual soul mates or did the nature of her visit to the human world make that kind of bond impossible?

Liddy hated having so many unanswered questions. She was accustomed to having all the answers. This uncertainty made things much more difficult. Not being able to know what Erik was thinking didn’t help any either. She closed her eyes and tried to tap into his mind again.

When a high, squeaky voice filled her head, she nearly tripped on the curb she’d been stepping onto with Erik.

This collar is too tight. My neck hurts.

Liddy searched until her gaze settled on a tiny dachshund across the street being tugged along by a purple leash. No. It couldn’t be that she’d heard that dog.

Could it?

The sidewalk is too hot on my paws today.

The small pooch barely let its paws stay on the sidewalk for more than a second before picking them back up, all the while trying to keep up with its oblivious owner.

“The store is over here,” Erik said.

“Aye. I’ll... I’ll be right back.” Liddy dashed across the street, knowing Erik probably thought she was crazy, but having to verify if she was indeed connecting to that dachshund. “Excuse me?” She tapped the owner—a wall of a woman—on the shoulder.

“Yeah?” Her voice sounded as if she’d spent the last forty years eating glass.

“Could I just... umm...” When the right words wouldn’t come, Liddy exhaled on a huff and kneeled down to the dog. I’m going to loosen that collar, okay, friend?

She could have sworn the pup’s brown eyes widened right before its skinny tail wagged wildly.

“What are you doing?” the woman asked.

“I think your dog’s collar might be too tight. May I loosen it a notch?” Liddy squinted up at the woman.

“I guess. I always forget which hole is the right one.” The woman lifted her sunglasses. “I don’t see too well anymore and those holes are so small.”

“Aye, it can be tricky.” Liddy unbuckled the collar and refastened it on the next hole, fitting two fingers between the collar and the dog’s neck. “There, that seems better. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all,” the woman gave her a smile. “Did Felix look uncomfortable?”

“Aye. I was walking over there with my...” She glanced back to see Erik smiling at her as he leaned against the brick building on the corner. Heat rushed around her body at just the sight of him. Gods. “I was walking with my friend and happened to notice your pup.” She bent and picked Felix up, cradling his small body to her chest. “I think his feet are getting hot too. Maybe you could carry him for a little bit. He seems to like cuddling.”

I love cuddling!

Liddy rubbed Felix’s floppy ears and he burrowed his nose into her hair, making the woman chuckle.

“He’s such a little flirt, my Felix.” She held her arms out. “Give him here before your friend over there gets jealous.” The woman motioned to Erik with her chin, her smile growing. “Thanks for your help, honey.”

Yeah, thanks! Felix gave her a quick lick on the cheek before allowing his owner to take him from Liddy’s arms.

“No problem.” So she could talk to and hear animals. She supposed that wasn’t all that different than what she could do as the goddess of wild things. She just hadn’t expected that talent to carry over as she played at human for the month. And why couldn’t the talent have extended to Erik and her wolves?

Liddy jogged back over to Erik, noting the questioning arch of his brow. The sun shining on him at this angle picked up the strawberry highlights in his hair. He looked so... so delicious standing there waiting for her.

“A friend of yours?” He pushed off the building to stand in front of her.

“He is now. That was Felix, his collar was too tight and his paws were hot.” She looked up at Erik, gauging his reaction, but he still looked rather amused.

By her.

Erik Rheagan was amused by Flidae, goddess of wild things. That was one for the record books.

“What are you?” He laughed. “An animal medium?”

An animal medium?

A seagull landed next to her feet and looked up at her.

“Aye. An animal medium. I speak to animals and they speak to me.”

Erik narrowed his eyes at her, and she thought he’d figured out who she really was for a moment. “Well, if you run into a black and white cat at the marina about this big,” he held his hands about ten inches apart, “ask her what she did with my White Marina baseball hat. I think she stole it.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for her and do a full interrogation.”

Nodding once, Erik pulled open the door to what ended up being a delightfully charming market where she bought a few necessities. He helped her tote her purchases back to the marina, not once questioning her proclamation that she could speak with animals. Maybe being a werewolf made him more accepting of the seemingly unbelievable.

When they arrived at her boat, Erik let out a laugh as he took in the stern. “Wild Thing, aye?”

She loved how friendly his face was when he smiled like that. “Maybe this boat is unruly.”

“The boat? I see.” He set the bags he carried on the dock and took her bags so she could climb aboard. “Not her captain?”

“I didn’t say that.” She reached for the bags and loved how his pupils zipped to huge dark pools, only a thin halo of hazel ringing them.

He cleared his throat, his cheeks flaring red again. He busied himself with handing her the rest of the bags, then jammed his hands into the front pockets of his shorts. Shorts that showcased those strong legs and were faded in all the right spots.

“So... I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He studied his work boots for a moment then rocked back on his heels, a dock floorboard creaking as he moved.

“I believe Thomas promised you to me for the afternoon. Are you trying to get out of that?”

His gaze immediately flicked up to meet hers and it was worth becoming human just to have him look at her like that—like he wanted to sample whatever she might be willing to offer.

I’ll offer it all.

“No. I just didn’t want to assume you wanted to be stuck with me for the afternoon.” His shyness hit her square in the chest—and maybe other places—and she couldn’t think of anything better than being stuck with—and perhaps to—Erik Rheagan.

“How else am I going to learn to be a pro sailor?” She stepped back and motioned for him to board.

When he did so in one fluid motion that was both manly and graceful at the same time, her desire for him grew tenfold.

“I guess I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t give you a few tips.”

“Lunch first?”

“Aye. I seem to recall your stomach roaring earlier.”

She cringed as she bent to pick up some of the shopping bags. “Sorry about that. I haven’t eaten.” Ever. She’d have to remember that eating was necessary now.

Erik hefted the last three bags onto his arm and followed her below deck to the galley where he helped her make sandwiches. They took lunch to the helm and he motored the sailboat out of the slip.

When they finished eating, they raised the sails together. Liddy was surprised at how she was able to look as if she’d been sailing for years then realized Gwyd had probably given her some advantage in that department. Thank the gods. The last thing she wanted was to look unskilled in front of Erik.

The wind was perfect and Erik helped her tune the sails so the boat moved swiftly but didn’t heel at all. Sunshine beat down on them like a warm embrace and Liddy finally understood how much she missed out on by being a goddess. Simple pleasures like feeling the sun’s welcoming heat, smelling the salted sea air, enjoying the company of a fascinating man.

“Warming up out here today,” Erik said after a few moments of quiet sailing.

Liddy stretched her legs out on the bench seat by the helm. “Aye. A perfect summer day.”

“I haven’t lived here long,” Erik began and Liddy felt a pang in her chest, “but there seem to be many perfect summer days here in Rhode Island.”

Liddy knew the next logical question in the conversation would be to ask him how long he’d been in Rhode Island, but she was afraid to ask. What answer would he give her? Certainly not the truth.

“I ended up here by accident months ago,” he continued.

She let out the breath she’d been holding, curious now about what he’d say.

“I miss home, but this country isn’t so bad.” He offered her a small smile. “Especially when an ordinary afternoon lands me on a boat named Wild Thing with an animal medium.”

Liddy laughed. “You never know how the day will turn out, do you?”

“Nope, but that’s the fun of it, I guess.”

And more fun was hopefully on the way.

****

Can an animal medium hear my thoughts? Liddy had amazed him with her interaction with that small dog on the street, and he wondered if every thought he’d had since meeting her had been broadcast in her mind. He hadn’t thought anything bad, but maybe a few R-rated images had skittered through his subconscious. He could hardly be blamed for that.

Liddy Dyra was as beautiful as any goddess.

Erik cringed, waiting for Flidae to flood into his mind, his grip tightening on the wheel of Liddy’s boat. She didn’t like when humans were compared to goddesses. She didn’t feel as if humans were worthy of such a compliment.

But Liddy Dyra...

She was certainly exquisite. When he’d watched her cross the street to that dachshund, he hadn’t been able to take his gaze off the way her long, toned legs carried her. Her black and purple hair flowed behind her and that ass... gods, that ass. He hadn’t been able to keep himself from imagining palming each of those taut cheeks.

As she’d crouched and had a conversation with the pup, he became jealous of the wee beastie as it got to touch her and cuddle her and lick her face. He wanted to do those things too even though he’d only known her for about an hour.

That instant attraction had surprised him. Since being banished, he hadn’t gotten involved with any woman, not that lasses hadn’t offered. Roni Hamilton had offered several times, but he always turned down these advances. He didn’t have a good explanation for why either. Back in Ireland, he’d bed most willing partners. Something about this time—something about having met Flidae—had blinded him to female companionship.

Liddy was opening his eyes again though. Wide. He was alert and paying attention. Close attention. Looking at her now as she sunned herself on the bench seat on the port side of the boat made him fantasize about stripping off her shorts and tank top to worship every pale inch of that beautiful skin.

Gods, I hope she can’t hear my thoughts. He probably would have gotten slapped by now if she could.

“Do you live around here?”

Her voice pulled him out of his dirty thoughts. “Aye. You can actually see where I live from here.” He pointed to the shore where Thomas’s lighthouse rose into the sky. “That’s Thomas’s lighthouse, but I rent a floor.”

“I’ll bet you see some gorgeous sunrises and sunsets from there. I just love the sun.” She glanced over her shoulder at him, her long hair hanging down her back and calling Erik’s fingers to comb through it.

Ignoring that impulse, he said, “Aye. The sky here makes the same colors as the sky back in Ireland.”

“Magic, that sky, aye?” She sat up, her legs swinging slightly so her feet touched the floor by the helm. “Do you enjoy living by the water?”

She looked at him with such intensity he wondered if that had been the question she’d really wanted to ask.

“I do. I’m glad I landed where I did.”

“Thomas has been nice to you?” Liddy leaned her elbows on her knees, but didn’t take her gaze off him. The blue depths of her eyes pulled him in, and drowning became a real possibility. “Erik?”

“Aye.” He shook his head and corrected their course a little to keep the sails full. “Thomas has been great. He gave me a place to stay, offered me a job, and has generally looked out for me.”

“But he let those bastards give you trouble?” Liddy’s jaw clenched and Erik hated she’d encountered such scoundrels. On her first day at White Marina no less.

“They like to hear themselves talk.” His claws attempted to slide out of his fingertips, but he stopped them.

“I didn’t like hearing them talk.” She sat back and folded her arms across her chest under her breasts, causing the tops of the pale mounds to become more pronounced at the neckline of her shirt.

Erik licked his lips, his mouth gone dry at how badly he wanted to see the rest of those breasts. “I usually don’t like hearing them either, but they were here before me. I didn’t feel right complaining to Thomas when I was the new lad, you know?”

“You had no problem complaining about them today.” Liddy raised one eyebrow above those summer sky eyes.

“They can treat me like shit,” he said. “But they cannot treat you like shit.”

Liddy stood and nudged him away from the wheel so he’d let her take control. “Why do you care how they treat me? We just met.”

“I guess I hit my tolerance level for their tomfoolery.” He sat on the starboard side. “I saw them surrounding you and got a sense of what it probably looks like when they’re busting my stones. It made me feel weak to watch them get away with it. I decided it was time to speak up.” He didn’t include the fact that he’d nearly gone wolfman on them. She didn’t need to know he was quite possibly a worse monster than those lads would ever be.

Liddy chewed on her bottom lip for a few quiet moments, her gaze fixed on the horizon. When she looked at him, she said, “Thanks for speaking up.”

Her eyes said more than those words. Didn’t they? Or was he back to imagining things? Why was this lass so damn interesting?

“Want to moor over there?” He pointed to a small cove across the bay. For some reason he didn’t want it to be time for a return trip to the marina yet.

“Aye.”

It took about ten minutes for Wild Thing to make it to their destination, but when it did, Liddy dropped the sails and motored the sailboat up to a mooring like an expert. Erik was able to reach out from the bow and grab the buoy easily. Within seconds they were secured and bobbing lazily.

“Do you want something to drink, Captain Erik?” Liddy maneuvered around the helm and stood in front of where he was seated.

He wanted something, but it wasn’t a drink.

“Aye, thanks.”

She nodded. “Be right back.”

As she disappeared into the cabin, Erik scooched down in his seat and leaned his head back. Wispy clouds drifted across the wide expanse of blue above him. What time was it? He didn’t care, which was not like him. Usually on a work day, he was ever conscious of the time, how much he’d gotten done, and how much he still had left to do. He never wasted a minute while on the job. He owed Thomas over one hundred percent effort after all the man had done for him.

But Thomas told me to spend the afternoon with Liddy. So wasn’t he technically still working? And if he was still working, what would be inappropriate to do? Most likely more than half of the things that were on his mind.

A wiggling can of soda blocked the sun over his face and he sat upright again. Taking the soda, he said, “Thanks.” Something stronger was probably in order, but it was too early in the day for that.

Liddy’s own can of soda hissed as she opened it. She appeared to be startled when some soda sprayed out of the can and dotted her face. When she took a drink, she laughed. “Those fizzy bubbles tickle my lips.”

Such an innocent comment, but Erik’s gaze immediately zeroed in on her lips. For. The. Millionth. Time. Get control, lad.

Since being banished, he’d been too busy thinking of Rianne and how much he missed Ireland, and how much he was attracted to Flidae, but all those things were out of his domain. He couldn’t contact Rianne. He couldn’t get back to Ireland. He couldn’t be with Flidae. So he’d thrown his attention into working at the marina.

Liddy had managed to capture his attention though, and he wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it. He was supposed to be finding something worthy to do so he could resume his previous life already in progress. Maybe he wouldn’t return to warrior life though. That life came with praise and riches, but not much else. He’d love to get his own boat and captain it for merchants. The sea would give him the adventures he liked, but he could be around more for Rianne.

Rianne. Gods, he hoped she was all right. At fourteen, she could physically take care of herself pretty well. Emotionally, however, her mother would drain every bit of sunshine out of his little sister. He couldn’t let that happen. He couldn’t let a distraction—like Liddy—keep him from doing something worthy and getting back to Ireland.

Erik sipped his own soda and tried not to look at Liddy. Maybe if he ignored her, he would quit fantasizing about her. An unlikely theory, but worth adhering to just the same.

“Don’t you like your soda?” Liddy asked.

“What?”

She motioned to the can in his hand. “Your drink. You don’t like it?”

“It’s fine. Why?”

“Your brows are crinkled and your mouth is a rigid line. That wasn’t the case before I went below to get the sodas.” Liddy ran her hand through her hair and the purple ends glittered in the sunshine.

“The soda is perfectly refreshing,” he assured her with a smile. “I was just wondering if Thomas is regretting cutting me loose for the afternoon.”

“Think you’re indispensible, do you?” She lightly tapped the top of his work boot with her flip-flopped foot. She had the prettiest toes he’d ever seen. They fanned out, each toe the perfect amount shorter than the one before it and the nails painted a sparkling silver.

“Indispensible? No.” He took a quick sip of his soda. “Handy to have around, yes.”

“That much I’ve witnessed. You’re a lad who’s in the right place at the right time.” Liddy leaned forward and clinked her can of soda to his. “To my knight in faded shorts. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, my lady.”

They both tossed back the rest of their sodas then Liddy stood to collect the cans. At the same time a huge power boat roared by them, creating an epic wake—in the no wake zone—and the sailboat pitched back and forth over the excited water. Liddy lost her balance and stumbled forward.

Erik caught her around the waist and instinctively pulled her into his lap before she cracked her head on the bench seat. His arms tightened around her as the boat swayed. When it settled, he didn’t let her go right away.

And she didn’t ask to be let go.

Instead, she turned those blue, blue eyes to his face and offered him a grin that had his body heating. “Handy lad to have around indeed.”

His gaze went directly to her mouth and before he could stop himself, he leaned forward and brushed her lips with his. When she didn’t stop his advance, he committed more to the kiss, rejoicing when she parted her lips and stroked his tongue with hers. Before he knew what was happening, they were kissing kissing, his hands plunging into her hair, hers hooking on the back of his neck as if she intended to be there awhile.

Fine with me. He could kiss her all day. She tasted lemon-limey from the soda she’d finished and that became his new favorite flavor.

Erik settled more into tasting her, his hands skittering down her arms then wrapping around her back to pull her a little closer. A moan sounded from her throat and damn if that didn’t nearly send him over the edge. She had to feel his rock hard erection pressing into her bottom as she shifted to straddle his lap. He sure as hell felt the heat between her legs and wanted to warm himself by that fire. Completely.

He contemplated scooping her up—not breaking the kiss of course—and taking her below deck to properly explore her, but before he could stand, Liddy ripped her mouth off his. Thoroughly stunned and a little out of breath, he stared at her, not capable of words yet.

She angled her head then climbed off him, much to his disappointment. When she kneeled beside him on the bench seat and leaned over the side of the boat to see into the water, the view of her spectacular ass consoled him. Some.

“I hear you,” she said to the water, “but I don’t see you, little one.”

Erik turned around and kneeled beside her, hanging over the side and squinting into the water. “What do you hear?” His voice was scratchy with need, but at least kneeling like this hid his arousal so it had a chance to calm the fuck down. Assuming that was even possible around a woman like Liddy.

“I... I’m not sure.” She closed her eyes and bent her head so her left ear was facing the water below. “Someone is asking for help down there.”

Erik scanned then spotted a V in the water near the bow. “Over here.” He stood and walked along the deck to the front of the boat, Liddy following behind him. “It’s a duck.”

Liddy stood next to him and leaned over. “It doesn’t seem to be swimming smoothly, does it?”

Erik shook his head. “What’s it telling you?”

She closed her eyes, again looking as beautiful as a goddess while she concentrated on the creature below. “Its leg. Something is caught on its leg. She says it’s hard to swim.”

Erik lowered to his knees again and kept an eye on the duck. “Do you have a net or something?”

Liddy hesitated for a moment. “I’ll go check.”

When she came back, she held a net up as if it were a trophy. “Success! I brought a towel too.”

“Great. Give the net here.” He swung it over the bow and gently guided the duck into the net. Carefully, he swept the duck up and onto the towel Liddy had spread out on the deck. “Oh, her foot is all tangled up in these plastic soda can rings.”

Liddy scowled. “This stuff doesn’t belong in the water.” She deftly freed the duck’s foot and crooned soft words to the agitated bird. “She’s not hurt. She says she was uncomfortable.”

The duck nestled in Liddy’s lap, appearing to thank her for helping. Erik couldn’t take his gaze off the two of them.

“You’re all right now, friend,” she said, stroking the duck’s back feathers. “Let’s get her back in the water.”

“Aye.” Erik held the net out, but the duck spread its wings instead and flew off Liddy’s lap. “Guess she’s all set now.”

“Aye, but I’m done with soda if that’s what happens with those rings. Terrible,” Liddy said.

“Soda is no good for anyone really.”

“What will we drink instead?” She leaned back on her elbows on the deck, her face up to the sun.

“Whiskey?”

Her laugh was downright musical. “Whiskey it is. I like the way you think, Erik Rheagan.”

“I like the way you kiss,” he said.

“We’ll have to add kissing to our whiskey drinking then.”

That sounded like an excellent plan.

Chapter Five

How did humans not go around kissing all the time? Liddy’s lips still tingled from kissing Erik. When he’d leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers, she’d felt as if all the magick in the world had been poured over her. Every single one of her nerve endings buzzed over his touch. His kiss had started out soft and exploratory, but had grown hungry and frenzied so fast she hadn’t had time to think. Not that there was anything to think about really. She’d wanted that kiss, that embrace, those caresses. For a while now. The way his slight beard scraped along her jaw had made her want to purr like a kitten.

And his hands? Erik’s hands were big and strong, yet warm and gentle. He was the perfect combination of protector and seducer. She loved both roles.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to ignore that duck’s words of need. The poor dear had been struggling and she could no longer enjoy Erik’s kiss knowing the animal was suffering. When he helped her rescue the bird, Liddy fell a little more for him. He hadn’t been angry that she’d ripped free of the kiss and abandoned his lap.

For a duck.

But he did seem to want more of her. Why else would he tell her he liked the way she kissed?

“We should probably start back to the marina,” he said as he scooted over next to where she was reclining on the deck.

“Probably.” She closed her eyes to bask in the hot sun.

“But maybe you want to have dinner with me tomorrow night?”

Why not tonight? She didn’t want to waste a whole night away from him. She only had a month, but she couldn’t tell him that.

“Sure.”

“Great.” His entire face lit up with his smile. “I wish we could go out tonight, but I promised Thomas I’d help him paint a boat after hours. He’d probably tell me to forget it if I said I had a date, but he already let me hang out with you all day. I don’t want to take advantage of him. I know he’s been looking forward to painting the boat.”

At least she knew he wasn’t going to be with another woman. Liddy could be away from him if her competition was only a boat.

“I understand you have commitments. That’s fine. Tomorrow will come soon enough.” She almost believed she had the patience those words indicated. Almost. A night alone—her first human night actually—would be good. She needed some time to plan her strategy for the month anyway.

After a lovely sail back to the marina, Erik eased Wild Thing into her slip, tied her to the dock, and helped Liddy neatly fold the mainsail.

“Anything else I can do for you, my lady?” he asked with a small bow.

“Yes, there is.” She approached him, stopping only a few inches in front of him. Tilting her head back a bit to look up at him, she rested her hands on his chest, her palms loving everything about the hard planes of his pectorals and the rapid beat of his heart under his T-shirt. “You can kiss me again.”

“What kind of a knight would I be if I didn’t oblige the lady’s simple request?” His lips turned up at the corners and Liddy found herself tracing that smile with her fingertip.

“Not a good knight at all.”

“We can’t have that.”

Erik rested his hands on her hips, pulling her closer so her front pressed against his. He lowered his head and caught her mouth in a kiss so deep, so passionate, she would have fallen over if he hadn’t been holding her. His tongue asked for entry and she was willing to grant it. He stroked, velvet against velvet, and Liddy wanted his mouth on all her parts.

She wrapped her arms around his back and tightened her grip. She wanted to take in as much of him as she possibly could. How was she going to bid him farewell when a month’s time had passed if after only one afternoon together she didn’t want to see him go?

Erik drew the kiss out for several moments and she reveled in each second that ticked by. When he finally ended with a few quick pecks and a soft growl, Liddy wanted nothing more than to drag him below deck and keep him. She didn’t want him out there where the rest of the world could see him, want him, love him. She wanted him all to herself.

“Wow.” The single word came out on a long exhale. “You make it tough for a lad to leave.”

“That’s the general goal.”

“You’re gifted.” He rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t wait until tomorrow night.”

“Me too.”

“Dinner. Whiskey. Kissing.” Erik pressed a kiss to her forehead before stepping back. “All on the agenda.”

“In that order?” Human banter had always been fun, but it was more so as a human.

Erik squinted one eye at her. “Maybe the kissing part can be repeated throughout the night?”

“You’re full of great ideas.”

He chuckled and slowly climbed out of the sailboat. “See you tomorrow night, Wild Thing.”

With a wave, he sauntered up the dock, Liddy watching him until she couldn’t see him anymore. She poured herself onto the bench seat and sifted out a slow breath.

Better than you expected?

Liddy’s head jolted up to see a raven perched on the boom. “Jessica?”

Yes. Thought I’d stop in and see Erik for myself to assure Shawn and the others that he’s okay. My raven form is the most inconspicuous and swift among our pack. Her black raven head cocked to the side. Looks as if Erik’s more than okay, isn’t he?

Liddy couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across her lips.

Exactly, Jessica thought.

“Come below and shift so I can have a proper female-to-female conversation with you.”

Jessica let out a cackle that sounded like a laugh and flew to Liddy’s shoulder. Once in the cabin, Jessica shifted into her human form and Liddy got her a sundress to wear.

“So how do you have this boat, these clothes?” Jessica asked as she sat at the table.

“You know how when you found Shawn he had a wallet?”

Jessica nodded.

“Same thing. I gave that to Shawn so he could fit in here. Gwyd gave me this,” she motioned to the boat around them, “so I could too.”

“Gwyd?”

“The god of enchantment. He’s the one who made it possible for me to be here.”

“And you’re actually human? For real?” Jessica angled in her seat and gave Liddy a thorough once-over.

“Aye.”

Jessica frowned as she met Liddy’s gaze. “It’s not forever though, is it?”

Liddy shook her head. “No. I only have one month. How did you know?”

“The sadness in your eyes gave you away,” Jessica said. “It was only there for a moment, but I sensed it meant this becoming human thing wasn’t as perfect as it seemed.” She rubbed her forehead. “A month. That’s not long.”

“I know.”

Neither of them spoke about what would happen to Erik when she left, but Liddy sensed Jessica was thinking it.

“You lasses talked me into this.” She pointed a finger at Jessica. “You convinced me.”

Jessica held up her hands. “We did. You’re right, but we only knew about the love part, not the leaving part.”

That was true. Liddy hadn’t been totally honest with them. She’d specifically not thought about the one month part of the deal when she’d realized Brandy, Emma, Nika, and Jessica were trolling around in her thoughts. She’d been looking for them to persuade her to do this, hadn’t she? She hadn’t wanted to think about the bad aspects.

And leaving Erik would be a bad aspect.

“Maybe it’s best to just enjoy the time you do have,” Jessica said. “Part of being human is saying goodbye too. Any one of us might have to say goodbye to someone at any point. We don’t know when. Maybe you knowing you only have a month is an advantage. Like you’ll make every moment count because you have so few.”

“Perhaps.”

“What does Erik think of you taking on a human form?” Jessica asked.

“About that...” Liddy leaned against the counter in the galley. “It’s possible he doesn’t actually know who I really am.” She squeezed her eyes shut then opened one to peek at Jessica.

“He doesn’t know you’re Flidae?” Jessica’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s why you don’t look exactly like the form you show to us when you come here.”

“Aye.” Liddy bit her bottom lip then rubbed her temples. Was she about to get what humans called a headache? “I told him my name is Liddy. He needs to think I’m a regular human. He knows better than to fall for a goddess.”

Jessica puckered her lips out and ran her hand through her hair. She was quiet for long enough that Liddy actually got nervous.

“What are you thinking?” she finally asked. Why didn’t her telepathy with animals work when shifters were in human form? So inconvenient.

“Well... did he reveal he’s a werewolf to you?” Jessica stood and leaned on the wooden cabinet across from Liddy.

“No, he didn’t.” The fact that Erik was a werewolf hadn’t worked itself into any of their conversation during the day.

“I guess that makes you even in the secret department,” Jessica said. “I’m not for keeping secrets, but... Shawn and I had the same secret when we first met. I didn’t know he was a werewolf and he didn’t know I was a raven shifter. When a relationship is new, I guess all the cards don’t need to be on the table right away.”

Liddy liked this line of thinking. “I’ll have to eventually tell him who I am when the month is up, but until then...”

“You want to kiss him senseless?” Jessica grinned.

“Aye, and more.” Liddy’s cheeks burned. Remembering the way he kissed got her heated like nothing ever had. Was that a result of being a human or was Erik just a skilled kisser? “When you and Shawn kiss, do you—”

“Feel as if someone has lit a match inside my belly?” Jessica interrupted.

“Aye.”

“Oh, yeah. Every. Single. Time.” Jessica sighed as she fanned herself. “I should actually be getting back to Vermont. They’re all waiting at Silver Moon to hear about Erik. The guys really want to see him.”

“Give me some time,” Liddy said, “then I’ll send for you all.”

“Sounds good.” Jessica stepped onto the stairs to the top deck, but turned around first. “It was you who brought Shawn and me together. It was you who gave him his leg back. Our happiness is due, in part, to you.” Jessica rested her hands on Liddy’s shoulders. “I’m hoping you and Erik can have the same happiness.”

“Thank you, raven lass. And you won’t tell the others that I’m only human for a month?”

“Not my secret to tell.” Jessica shifted, Liddy’s dress floating to the base of the steps. With a powerful flap of her black wings, Jessica took off, becoming nothing more than a speck in the darkening sky as she traveled farther and farther north.

Liddy spent some time sitting on the bow of the sailboat, watching the sunset and listening to the creaking and jingling of masts and lines. The gentle sway of the boat relaxed her, but every now and then, she’d remember Erik kissing her and her body would get all charged up again.

She squinted toward the marina office then scanned the land over to the steel building which she’d always associate with those bastards.

Wonder if Thomas already fired them. And how did they take it? Did they leave peacefully? Put up a fight? Hurt Thomas?

That thought had her standing and she decided she had to make sure Thomas was all right. He may have been their boss and it sounded as if he had more than enough grounds to fire them all, but he was also one old man against four big lads in their thirties. Those were not good odds for a fair fight.

After scurrying below deck and sliding into a pair of jeans and a fitted black T-shirt, she slipped on her flip-flops and climbed off the boat. Her trip up the dock toward the marina office took her past the other boats lined up on Dock 5. Many of them had light-up decorations adorning their dock space, almost like a front lawn. Pink flamingoes, brown and green inflatable palm trees, and strings of twinkling sea stars cast a soft glow along the dock.

“Missed that detail, Gwyd,” she whispered.

I made you a human with some taste, Flidae.

She barked out a laugh, catching the attention of a couple sitting on lawn chairs, playing checkers and nursing beer bottles in front of a boat named Weird Al.

“Wondering which one of us is Weird Al?” the man asked.

“It’s me,” the woman said. “I’m Allyson, but trust me, Wayne here is just as weird.” Allyson thrust her hand out. “Welcome to Dock 5.”

Liddy shook hands with Allyson. “Thanks. I’m Liddy.” She threw a quick glance up to the marina office, remembering being in there with Erik’s arm around her shoulder. “I already like it here.”

“Good, good,” Wayne said. “We’ll schedule a checker game soon then.”

“Wayne is on a mission to play checkers with everyone on this dock.” Allyson peeked back at him. “But he cheats, so look out.”

“I do not cheat.” Wayne pointed his beer bottle at her. “You just suck at checkers, my dear.”

Allyson shook her head and waved a hand at Wayne in dismissal. “Don’t listen to him. He’s drunk.”

“I have not had nearly enough to be drunk yet, Al.” He offered Liddy a huge smile. “But the night is young. You want a beer, Liddy?”

They were being sociable, nice even, and she was curious about that aspect of human behavior, but she really wanted to find Thomas and make sure he was all right. And if she happened to find Erik too, that would be okay with her.

“Thank you, but maybe another time. I’m on my way somewhere right now.”

“No problem,” Wayne said.

“We’re here all month,” Allyson said. “We’re both teachers and August is our last month of freedom.”

“It’s the Sunday of the summer.” Wayne put on a sad face then sighed.

“But we’re not going to let that get us down, honey. We still have a month. So much fun can be had in a month.”

Liddy hoped that was true.

****

Erik laughed as Thomas butchered the lyrics of a classic rock tune that blasted from an ancient boom box. He only knew the lyrics were wrong because Thomas listened to this song almost every day. Music was one of the things Erik liked most about this time. Ireland had its good ditties, but music and songs had come such a long way in the future. His favorite music was from a rock band named Hendrake that he’d discovered on the radio early one morning while repairing the engine of a small powerboat. Great female vocalist and a Celtic-sounding fiddle that took everything to the next level. He bet a gorgeous face accompanied that amazing voice.

But not as gorgeous as Liddy.

Erik couldn’t stop thinking of her. From the moment he’d left her boat to this present moment, she’d been fresh in his mind. How the hell was he supposed to get through an entire night and day before seeing her again? He didn’t think he could wait that long.

And when had he gotten so ridiculous? He’d been an absolute priest since being banished and it hadn’t bothered him all that much. When his mind did wander to women, images of Flidae had always flooded in and he’d ended up having to go on a wolf run just to expend the pent up sexual energy.

Now it seemed the female image that came readily to mind was Liddy’s. Not Flidae’s. Would he be punished for that too? Was it unacceptable to replace a human for a goddess in his fantasies? At least he could actually sample Liddy. If she were willing, of course. He’d never get a taste of Flidae, so it was probably sensible to forget that dream.

Liddy could definitely help him forget that dream. Since meeting her, he had a new dream. It involved him slowly stripping her down to her skin and worshiping every silky inch of her.

“Any time today, son.” Thomas’s voice shook Erik out of his thoughts—his dirty, dirty thoughts.

“What?” He had no idea what Thomas had asked him to do.

“The screw gun, please. I need to remove this plaque here before we paint her.” Thomas ran his hand over a sign that was attached to the stern. Some quote from a book called Moby Dick.

Erik grabbed the screw gun and held it up to Thomas who was up on a ladder. “You sure you should be on that ladder, old man?”

“You sure you should be around power tools when your brain is clearly on a woman?”

Erik held his hands up in surrender as he walked back to where he’d been stirring paint. “You’re the one who made me spend the day with her.”

“I didn’t tell you to get all consumed by her.”

“I didn’t get consumed.” Although that was probably a spot-on description of how he felt. “We only spent one day together.”

“Sometimes one day is all it takes, son. Sometimes it only takes a second. That’s how it was with my Sally.”

Erik had seen pictures of Sally White at the lighthouse. A fair-skinned lass with kind green eyes and a ready smile, Thomas had told him his wife was the reason he got out of bed every day. She’d passed about ten years ago, but Thomas had pledged to live the rest of his years for the both of them.

“You knew you loved Sally in a second?” Erik wasn’t sure that was possible.

“Yup. I saw her across a crowded church at my older brother’s wedding and knew when I got married, she’d be the one standing next to me. We were only twelve at the time, but I knew.”

“Well, I don’t love Liddy. I just met her.” Besides, could he fall in love with anyone? With the secret he kept? Did werewolves get to be that kind of happy? What made fantasizing about being with Flidae practical was that she already knew what he was. With her, he’d never have to explain that he was a monster. He’d never have to watch her run away from his claws and fangs and fur.

Squeezing his eyes shut as he stirred the paint, he shook the vision of an unsuspecting lass—one that now resembled Liddy—out of his head. No. He’d have to keep his secret. Liddy could apparently talk to animals, but that didn’t mean she wanted to date them.

Or love them.

“Kid, you need to get your head out of the clouds if we’re going to paint this sucker tonight.”

Erik looked up from the paint bucket to see Thomas standing beside him with his hands on his hips. “What?”

“Yeah, you keep asking that.” Thomas puffed out a breath, but his mouth was turned up in a grin. “I asked if you wanted to start at the stern or the bow.” He wiggled the paint roller in his hand.

“Oh. Doesn’t matter to me. Stern, I guess.”

“Pay attention to what you’re doing. I don’t want any streaks on this paint job.” Thomas ran his hand along the hull. “This here is my baby.”

“No streaks. Got it.” Erik took his paint bucket and roller and headed for the stern where My Sally was emblazoned in fancy script. They were only painting below the water line today so he wouldn’t be messing around with the boat’s name. Good thing. No streaks he could handle, but detail work was out of his realm tonight. Not with his mind still on Liddy.

He started in on his painting, but the sound of voices floated back to him. After climbing down his ladder, he approached the bow, figuring Thomas was asking him yet something else he’d missed.

Only Thomas wasn’t talking to him.

“They weren’t happy, but they gathered their shit and left like I asked them to,” Thomas said, shrugging.

Liddy stood in front of Thomas, wearing... wearing Erik’s White Marina baseball hat with a fitted black T-shirt and tight blue jeans. She smiled when she saw him and that warmed Erik from head to toe like he’d never been warmed before. His lips instantly wanted to be on hers.

Calm down, he told himself. If he wasn’t careful, he’d shift due to the excitement bubbling inside of him. The wolf was always ready to come out. The biggest thing he’d had to learn after being turned was containing that primal part of him that wanted to run free.

“Hi.” Her tone was almost bashful and gods, that was sexy.

“Hi,” he said, eyeing the hat. “You found it.”

Grinning, she removed the hat and ran a hand through her black hair to fluff it. “I ran into a cat.” She held the hat out.

Erik took the few steps closer in order to take it. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” She looked back at Thomas then at Erik. “I wanted to check on Thomas after he fired those bastards.”

“You’re a sweetheart,” Thomas said, “but I still got it. I’m the boss here and what I say goes.”

“Oh.” Liddy’s cheeks colored. “I didn’t mean to say you wouldn’t handle it. I meant... I just wanted to be sure they didn’t give you a hard time. I was worried I’d created a problem for you.”

Thomas shook his head. “They created their own problem.”

“You find replacements yet?” She arched an eyebrow and shot a quick glance to Erik.

Thomas laughed. “Actually, I did. A friend of mine has twins fresh out of college and his sister also has twins, same age.” He snapped his fingers. “Instant foursome ready for employment. Done.”

“Wonderful. Although I was still hoping to help you interview a long stream of muscular, seafaring types.”

A growl slipped from Erik’s throat that was apparently loud enough for both Thomas and Liddy to hear. They looked at him and he ended up coughing as if his throat had suddenly gotten dry. He picked up a water bottle on a small shop table beside him and guzzled about half of it.

“If you want to make yourself useful, Liddy,” Thomas said, grabbing another paint roller, “this boat isn’t going to paint itself and this kid needs supervision tonight.” He held out the roller to her.

At first, Erik thought she was going to say she had to go, but slowly, with her gaze on him, she took the roller. For some reason, that felt like a victory to Erik.

He motioned to the stern with his chin. “Right this way.”

“I’ve never painted a boat before,” she said. “I’ve actually never painted anything before.”

“It’s easy. Watch.” Erik dipped his roller in the blue paint and ran it along the hull, making sure to smooth out any streaks. “Now you try.”

Liddy came to stand beside him and he liked everything about that. She smelled like sunshine and salt air and something else he couldn’t quite define but wanted desperately to explore. Carefully and with such concentration on her face, she rolled blue paint under where he’d painted, but she didn’t press hard enough and moved too fast.

“It doesn’t look like yours,” she said.

“Do it like this.” He put his hand over hers on the handle of the roller and the moment skin touched skin, his entire body came alive with desire. A brief wave of dizziness actually flooded over him until he squeezed his eyes shut for a minute.

“Are you all right, Erik?” Her voice saying his name dispelled the dizziness, but replaced it with a whole other feeling, equally as dangerous.

His wolf came sniffing to the surface, curious about this wonderful female standing so close and smelling so good. “I’m fine.” But his words came out strained. What was this overwhelming desire he felt for Liddy? Was Thomas right about sometimes it only took a second to know you... loved someone?

No. This was merely attraction. Liddy was beautiful. He was a man. It was nothing more than that.

He focused on his hand on hers and applied more pressure so the roller in her hand hit the hull evenly, leaving a nice blue stripe when they pulled away.

“That looks better,” she said.“I guess I wasn’t pushing hard enough.”

“It takes a few strokes to get the feel of it.” Pushing hard. Strokes. Feel. Why did painting suddenly seem so erotic? “You work there and I’ll move over this way.” He poured paint into a tray for her then shuffled down more toward the middle of the boat. He needed some distance to make sure his attention was on painting.

But of course, he kept stealing glances as Liddy reached up to paint higher. The hem of her T-shirt rode up when she moved and a pale strip of skin showed at her stomach. He wanted to run his tongue across it.

Get it together, lad. He shook his head and forced himself to look only at the area he was painting. Up. Down. Up. Down. Blue. More blue.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Liddy said after a few moments of quiet painting.

“Intruding? No.”

“I really just wanted to check on Thomas. I started thinking about him firing those four, huge lads and couldn’t shake the need to make sure they’d left peacefully.”

Beautiful and kind. He hadn’t run into many of those types of women here or in Ireland.

“I’m sure they weren’t happy, but when you’re fired, you’re fired.” He risked a glance at her. “I know I’m glad they’re gone. Nothing but a pain in my ass.”

Liddy’s mouth turned up in a half smile as she lowered her gaze to his ass. “That looks rock solid to me. Are you sure anything can cause it pain?”

A laugh escaped from his throat as he thought about the number of sword blades that had made contact with his backside while he was on the battlefield. “It is not invincible. Trust me.” He turned to face her—because, honestly, he couldn’t ignore her and it was foolish to try. “Your bottom looks a little dangerous to me.”

“Dangerous?”

“Aye. As if it could easily bring a lad to his knees with one shake.”

Liddy wandered over to him, her roller still in her hand. “A lad like you?”

“For example.” He became mesmerized by her grin.

“I’ll have to remember that.”

“To use against me later?”

“Perhaps.”

How was this silly exchange getting him all fired up? “You’d better get back to painting before Thomas fires you.”

“I’m not officially hired. He can’t fire me.”

“You’d be surprised what Thomas manages to do.”

Still grinning, Liddy walked back to her area and dipped the roller into the paint tray. She made sure when she bent, her ass was on display to Erik. He nearly dropped his roller and stepped in his tray of paint while she laughed.

“Dangerous. Definitely dangerous.”

The next hour or so passed with more playful banter and lots of painting. Erik had been looking forward to working with Thomas, but Liddy made the night even more fun. It was good to hear Thomas laughing over her quick comebacks and teasing one-liners, and gods knew looking at her was entertaining. When she joined in singing with Thomas—after Thomas had carefully explained his version of the lyrics to her—Erik laughed until tears filled his eyes.

Too soon the three of them met at the only unpainted section of the hull.

“Wow, we cruised.” Thomas took a step back. “Looks damn good too.” He eyed Liddy. “You need a job, sweetheart?”

Liddy worried her lower lip between her teeth. “Actually, I do. You need more boats painted?”

“Probably,” Thomas said, “but I also need an office manager. Are you any good at organizing things?”

Again, Liddy hesitated as if she were listening to something else. Erik scanned the area quickly, wondering if any animals in the vicinity were talking to her, but he didn’t find any.

“Aye. I can organize things.”

“Good. You’re hired. Come to the marina office at 8:00 tomorrow morning and I’ll show you what I need done.” Thomas handed his roller to Erik. “I’m done. You two finish up for me.” He gave Erik a wink and waved to Liddy.

“Is he always that subtle?” Liddy asked.

“Aye. As subtle as a sword to the face.” Erik cringed when Liddy’s eyes widened. That was a warrior joke, not a lad-who-works-at-a-marina joke. He cleared his throat. “Shall we finish up this spot?” He gestured to the unpainted area in front of them.

Liddy nodded and Erik busied himself with filling his roller with paint. If he wasn’t careful, he’d be spilling all his secrets to this lass. How long before he scared her away with his biggest secret?

Chapter Six

The warrior was still in Erik. Sword to the face. Liddy had actually seen him take a sword to the face when she’d checked in on Reardon once. Fortunately Erik had gotten slapped with the broad part of the blade, not the sharp edge, and his handsome face had not been cut.

His opponent hadn’t fared as well. Erik was amazing with a sword. Even before he’d become a werewolf, she’d noticed him. All graceful steps when he moved about the battlefield, but full of fierce power when he wielded his sword. Metal clashed and blood spilled. More often than not, it was the other lad’s blood and not Erik’s.

After Reardon had changed his men, Liddy was still fascinated by Erik. Though he’d used his wolf to kill—and that was against the rules—she couldn’t deny he was a skilled fighter and an intimidating werewolf.

And his human form was damn sexy.

The more time she spent with him the more she enjoyed looking at him. Muscles bunched in his arms as he rolled paint along the boat’s hull. His T-shirt stretched across a set of shoulders she desperately wanted to trace with her fingertips. The memory of how the strawberry-blond scruff about his jaw had lightly scraped against her skin when they’d kissed earlier today kept bouncing around in Liddy’s head. She hadn’t been kidding about his ass either. She was eager to pinch it to see how toned it was.

After Thomas left, however, Erik had gotten quiet, finishing one side of the unpainted area while she completed her side. What was he thinking? How she wished she could read his mind as she’d been able to when she was a goddess. The uncertainty put her at a real disadvantage—one she hadn’t been prepared for.

“There.” Erik stepped back to survey his work. “One hull painted.” He made a checkmark in the air.

“Is this Thomas’s personal boat?” Liddy asked as she handed Erik her roller.

“Aye. My Sally is named after his wife. They sailed the entire east coast in this craft. Did so every summer until Sally passed. Then Thomas opened this marina and he pretty much sails just around New England now.”

“It must be hard for him to be without Sally.” Liddy’s one-month deadline reminded her that even if she succeeded in starting something with Erik, she’d eventually be without him too.

“Not being with someone you love is always hard.” Erik’s brows lowered as he stared at the finished hull, not meeting her gaze.

What is he thinking about? His face looked so sad.

“I’m going to take care of these.” Erik wiggled the two rollers and pointed to the trays of paint.

“Do you want help?” Liddy wasn’t ready to return to her boat. Wasn’t ready for the night to be over. Wanted to know if Erik was all right.

“I’ve got it,” Erik said.

She contained her pout, but when he turned away, it made an appearance anyway. Maybe his slip about taking a sword to the face had unnerved him. Jessica had been right that both of them had their secrets. She was about to say good night when he turned back around to face her.

“I know we have an official date scheduled for tomorrow night,” he said, “but do you want to go for a walk on the beach with me after I throw away these rollers and clean out the trays?”

“Aye,” she said. Too quickly. She should have hesitated, taken a moment to appear as if she had to decide whether or not she wanted to go. Goddesses knew nothing about playing hard to get apparently. “I’d like to go for a walk.”

Erik grinned, that solemn expression that had been on his face dissipating. “Great. I’ll be right back.”

He disappeared around the other side of the boat and Liddy listened to the water running as he cleaned. She busied herself inspecting the hull and approving of their painting job. Giving herself a look, she bent to swipe at a few dots of blue paint on her left foot. The dots, however, refused to vanish. She licked her thumb and tried again, but that paint was good and stuck to her skin.

She searched the area for something to help, but Erik had taken everything to the other side. Rounding the boat, she stopped next to Erik at a large sink.

“I got paint—” She stopped when Erik jumped, dropped the tray full of blue sudsy water, and growled when it splashed. All. Over. Him. A laugh bubbled out of her, but she quickly slapped her hands over her mouth when Erik’s hazel gaze shot up to her face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I don’t usually let people sneak up on me like that. My hearing is like a...” His words trailed off as he shook his head.

Like a wolf’s?

“I guess I move stealthily, aye?” She grabbed a towel hanging by the sink and handed it to him. “Again, my apologies. Although you look nice in that shade of blue.”

Another growl rumbled out of Erik’s throat and damn if it wasn’t the sexiest noise ever. He took the towel and dabbed at his blue-spattered T-shirt. Grumbling when the towel didn’t help at all, he used it to swab the floor as Liddy picked up the dropped tray and finished washing it at the sink.

“This T-shirt has met an untimely demise,” he said. “And it’s all your fault.”

Liddy hunched up her shoulders as she shut off the water and turned to face him. “I take full responsibility. I’ll get you another T-shirt. Something pink perhaps.”

“Pink is for lasses.” In one quick movement, Erik pulled his wet, stained T-shirt over his head and balled it up in his big hands. “Do I look like a lass to you?”

Gods, no.

All Liddy could do was shake her head and try to keep her jaw from dropping at the muscled chest and abs staring back at her.

Chuckling, Erik went to a wall of lockers and opened one. He rummaged around in there then pulled out another T-shirt. After tossing his ruined one in the garbage bin beside Liddy, he walked over to her and got close. So close she could see the flecks of brown dotting the green of his eyes.

And yet, he wasn’t close enough.

“No pink,” he whispered, his breath ghosting over her ear.

“No pink.” Her voice vibrated with a need so strong she could hardly contain it.

“Why did you come over to this side of the boat?” he asked as he shrugged into the new T-shirt. “Did you miss me?”

Liddy lifted her left foot, her flip-flop falling off in the process. “I had paint on my foot.”

Erik squinted down at the tiny dots of blue. “Not nearly as much paint as you got on my T-shirt.” He leaned over to the sink and grabbed a rag draped on the edge. “This probably has enough paint thinner on it to do the job.”

Kneeling before her, he motioned for her to rest her foot on his thigh. A lovely heat radiated off him, seeping into her bare heel. Liddy wanted that heat everywhere. Now. When he gently gripped her calf with his sturdy fingers, she nearly dripped into a puddle before him. He ran the rag over the top of her foot and the blue spots were wiped away.

“Magick,” she said.

“Science.” He hung the rag back over the sink edge. “If you’re done causing trouble, my lady, shall we embark on our walk?”

“I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” she said. “I didn’t think knights in shining armor were so skittish.”

“I’m not skittish.” He put his hands on his hips, looking absolutely adorable, though she wished he’d stayed shirtless. “You snuck up on me.”

“Not on purpose. I wanted help getting this paint off.” She wiggled her foot before sliding her flip-flop back on.

“Aye and help getting this paint on me.”

“That was an accident. I’ll be sure to make more noise around you from now on, so you know when I’m coming and can properly prepare.”

“You plan to be ‘around’ me often?” His left eyebrow arched playfully, his mouth turned up slightly at the corners.

“As long as you don’t have trays of sudsy blue paint in your hands, aye, I do plan to be ‘around’ you often. Does that present a problem for you?” She dared to take a step closer.

Erik’s gaze dropped down to her mouth for a moment and she hoped he’d lean in for a kiss. Instead he took her hand and tugged her toward the open doors of the building.

“No, that doesn’t present a problem for me. Not at all.” He released her hand to close the big doors and lock them. To her delight, he grabbed her hand again, his strong fingers interlacing with hers. “C’mon. The beach at night is my favorite.”

Liddy had a feeling it was about to become her favorite as well.

The moment they hit the sand, Erik stopped to pull off his work boots. He stuffed his socks inside them, tied them together, and hung them over his shoulder. “You must get barefoot, my lady. It’s the only way to beach.” He kneeled down, removed her flip-flops, stacked them on top of each other, and shoved them into the back pocket of his shorts.

The night was clear and the day’s warmth still lingered on the sand and in the air. Waves gently lapped at the shore with a steady rhythm that settled Liddy. When Erik took her hand again, however, everything inside her got all tossed around once more. How could something as simple as holding hands touch her so deeply, so completely? Actually, she knew the answer to that. It was because she’d never held hands before this. The realm she lived in didn’t have a need for physical touch, but she realized now that for as powerful as gods and goddesses were, they were missing out on some truly wonderful experiences.

How would she ever forget this being human time?

Shaking her head, Liddy pushed away thoughts of her adventure ending. Enjoy the now. The now that had Erik in it.

“Do you like living by the water?” she asked to keep her mind off the way Erik rubbed his thumb across her knuckles as he held her hand.

“Aye. I’ve always loved the sea, even when I lived in Ireland.” He looked at her. “How about you?”

“I’ve had more experience in the woods than on or near the sea, but salt air and rolling waves have their benefits too.” Especially when she was enjoying both of those with Erik by her side.

“Something cleansing and... forgiving about the ocean.” Erik gazed out over the water, the dimness of twilight making it difficult to see his facial expression, but his words had sounded as if he’d wanted forgiveness.

Liddy wished she could tell him that she’d banished the wolves more to protect them than to punish them. True, they had broken the rules by using their wolfman forms to slay men, but she’d only wanted them to not face execution. She’d wanted to give them a chance to redeem themselves. They would not have gotten that if they’d stayed in Ireland of their time. She’d had to get them out and fast. Separating them had been the punishment part and maybe that had been harsher than she’d intended.

“The water is like a natural lullaby,” she said. “You must sleep well at the lighthouse.”

“Most nights, aye.” Releasing her hand, he waded into the water up to mid-calf. “Other nights, not even the sea can soothe.” He waved a hand. “I’m sorry. I’m being broody.”

“Maybe I like broody.” She eased into the water to her ankles, her jeans rolled up at the bottom. “Broody, seafaring types.”

“Who don’t wear pink,” Erik added.

“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

He held out his hands and Liddy rested hers atop them. Erik closed his fingers around her hands and tugged her closer. “I liked today.”

Those three words filled her with joy. No matter what else happened during her stay here as a human, at least she’d gotten day one right.

Erik liked today.

“Me too.” Today had been so different from all the days she’d had as a goddess.

“For some reason, I feel as if I’ve known you much longer than a single day.” Erik let go of her right hand and traced her jaw with his index finger. “Why is that?”

“Because I’m like every other lass you’ve met?” Or you’ve already met me.

“Definitely not. I’ve never met a lass like you.”

She closed her eyes as his finger wandered down her neck and along her collarbone, making her shiver. “Surely other lasses can paint a boat.”

“But none of them look as good doing it.”

Liddy had a moment to be melted by his words then his lips captured hers and nothing else mattered.

****

Kissing. Aye. This was what Erik wanted to be doing the entire time they’d been painting the boat. Having Liddy on the other side of the craft had driven him wild. So close yet so far. As he’d painted, he could see her feet every now and again and had become fascinated by them. Of course, he wanted them locked behind his back as her legs wrapped around his waist, but he’d kept those wishes to himself. It was too soon to be wanting anything like that from Liddy. They’d only spent one afternoon together.

And now an evening.

Maybe that was enough time. Maybe he could have her in exactly the way he wanted her. She sure kissed as if she wanted the same things from him.

He angled his head a bit and deepened the kiss, loving when she met his fervor with her own. Her arms snaked up his, her hands resting on his shoulders, locking him in place.

As if I want to escape.

Erik wanted the exact opposite of escape. He wanted Liddy to chain him up in her boat and have her way with him. Multiple times. He wanted her to rip off their clothes and meld her naked body with his. He wanted her to chant his name over and over again as he plunged into her. He wanted to make her breakfast tomorrow morning.

A seagull screeched overhead and Liddy ended the kiss by taking a step back. They were both breathing heavily, but Erik was encouraged by the huge smile on Liddy’s face. When she licked her lips as if she’d eaten a sinful dessert, he nearly came.

“Those lips, my knight...” She shook her head then turned her attention to the seagull. “What can I do for you, lad?” Liddy stood silently, her eyes closed as she listened. “I’m sorry, friend, but I’m not sure how I can help with that.”

“What does it want?” Erik asked.

“He lost his mate. He said they were flying together, landed on the beach then went their separate ways to scout around. His mate never returned to their landing spot. He’s been looking all day for her.” Liddy crouched and put her hand out.

The seagull waddled right up to her and let her run her hand along its back feathers. Even animals knew how powerful her touch could be. Erik was actually jealous of the bird.

“Don’t seagulls mate for life?” he asked.

“Aye, so he’s particularly upset over not finding his lass.” Standing, Liddy turned in a slow circle. “It’s hard to see...” She stopped speaking and closed her eyes. Her arms spread out to her sides, her face turned up to the dark sky.

So kissable. Erik could think of nothing but getting back to the kissing. Liddy was positively enchanting standing there with the night sea breeze ruffling her black hair about her flawless face.

That seagull had to go.

Erik started looking around for Mrs. Gull, but the only things on the beach were dark piles of dried seaweed.

Liddy opened her eyes and marched over to a garbage barrel, peering inside. “Oh, sweet lass.” She bent in half, reaching deep into the barrel. When she righted herself, her hands were full of seagull.

Soft cries came from the bird as Liddy brought it in close to her chest.

“I know, lass. I know. It’s scary at the bottom of that barrel.” Liddy brushed her hand over the seagull, cleaning bits of food and other debris off its feathers.

“How did she get stuck in there?” Erik called over the screeches of the male seagull at his feet.

Liddy was quiet for a moment, listening. “She says she was on the rim and a boy came by and pushed her in earlier today.”

Erik puffed out a breath. “That sounds about right. Some of the kids that come to this beach run wild. Their parents don’t keep an eye on them and they get into everything. Thomas once had to drag two kids off someone’s boat and return them to their parents who were sunbathing, completely oblivious that their children were missing.”

“She’s been in that bin all day, poor lass.”

“Why didn’t she fly out?”

Liddy listened again. “Gum?” Her brows furrowed.

“Like chewing gum?” Erik carefully lifted each of the seagull’s wings. He growled when he found what he’d suspected. “Wad of gum stuck to her feathers. Probably upset her too much to get liftoff.” He nudged the hard glob with his index finger. “Let’s bring her up to the lighthouse.”

Liddy cradled the bird as she walked beside Erik, the male seagull flying ahead of them right for the lighthouse.

“Did you tell him where we’re headed?” he asked.

“Aye. He’s beside himself with worry.”

“Hmm. Didn’t think seagulls worried.”

“Over their loves they do.”

“Romantic.”

Liddy smiled. “You’d be surprised how many animals are romantic.”

“You’ve experienced animals in love before?”

“You could say that.”

He had a feeling a story hid there somewhere, but they were already at the lighthouse. He led them up to his floor and pointed to the small kitchen table. “Set her there.” He soaked a dish towel in warm water at the sink then rung it out. “Is she going to let me near her?”

Liddy kissed the top of the gull’s head as the male gull cried outside the large window facing the sea. “I told her what you’re going to do. She’s okay with it.”

Erik glanced at the window where the male gull literally paced along the railing on the small balcony out there. “Better be quick before that lad completely loses it.”

Examining once more where the gum was stuck, he carefully worked the wet towel over the area until the sticky ball came free. He threw it away and tossed the towel to the counter while Liddy cooed to the bird and wandered deeper into his home.

“Do these windows open?” she asked.

Nodding, he slid one open and they both jumped back when the female seagull took off directly from Liddy’s arms. Instinctively, Erik wrapped his arms around Liddy from behind her, drawing her away from the open window. He expected her to tense at his unexpected touch, but she leaned against him instead. Her hair smelled like summer nighttime air and was silky against his cheek. Her body fit in his arms perfectly, as if it belonged there.

“She’ll be all right now,” Liddy said, not making any move to free herself from Erik’s hold.

“Three animal saves in one day,” he said. “Impressive or is that the norm for you?”

When she didn’t answer right away, Erik wondered if perhaps she hadn’t heard him.

“You accept that I can hear the animals?” She turned in his hold so she was facing him.

“Of course. People can do all sorts of things we can’t explain.” Like shift into wolves.

She narrowed her eyes at him and for a moment, he was convinced she knew he could do something unexplainable. This was it. The end of whatever was happening between them because no woman would willingly choose to be with a werewolf.

“Humans don’t have all the answers, do they?” She ran her index finger along his lips, tickling them and arousing the rest of him.

“They like to think they do.” Why did this conversation sound as if neither of them were considering themselves to be totally human?

She slipped from his hold and walked slowly around the hexagonal room he called home. “Cozy place you have here.”

“It keeps me dry.” And it was far cozier than the stone fortress he had lived in during his warrior days with Reardon or the small, drafty cabin Rianne and her mother lived in.

Liddy stopped in front of his unmade bed, the sheets and comforter all twisted about. “And this is where you sleep?” She sat on the edge and Erik almost forgot how to speak. She looked as if she belonged there.

“When I do sleep.” He took a few steps closer, nearly desperate to join her on his bed.

“The tumultuous state of your bedding suggests you didn’t sleep peacefully last night.” Her facial expression hinted at... guilt?

“I dream,” he said, giving in to the pull to sit beside her.

“Not all those dreams are good ones, aye?” She cupped his cheek, her thumb gently rubbing along the scruff on his cheek.

“No, but if this is one,” he tugged on the purple ends of her hair, “I like it.”

“I like it too.”

When she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, a hungry growl vibrated in Erik’s throat. He reminded himself to keep his wolf in check, but gods, this lass made all his primal desires rush to the surface. Kissing her on his bed was testing his control.

He stopped kissing her, though it pained him to do so.

“Is something wrong?” Her gorgeous blue eyes looked wounded.

“No.” He raked his hands through his hair. “But if we keep kissing here like this, I’m not going to be able to stop myself from wanting more.”

She grinned as her gaze slowly combed over him, making him feel as if she’d caressed him. “Who says you can’t have more?”

A breath hissed out of Erik. “Decency. The rules of being of gentleman. Society.”

“I’m not one for rules, and I’m not exactly feeling decent or concerned with society at the moment.”

“What are you feeling then?”

She plucked at his T-shirt with her index finger and thumb. “I’m feeling that I’d love to see what’s under this shirt again. The peek I got earlier was far too quick for me to properly appreciate.”

“If you want to see it, you have to unwrap it.” Gods, he loved everything about this conversation.

“A challenge, aye?” She slid off the bed and stood in front of him, her long legs on either side of his knees. “I love challenges.” Her eyes darkened to a midnight blue as she leaned down and grabbed the hem of his T-shirt.

He helped by raising his arms above his head as she slowly peeled the cotton along his ribs, her fingers grazing his skin and causing explosions of arousal throughout his body.

She guided the shirt past his chest, over his shoulders and head, then tossed it on the floor beside her feet. “I’m sure many lasses have told you that you’re a work of art.”

“None that mattered.” He rested his hands on her hips and pulled her forward so she had to straddle his lap. The heat between her legs only made his erection harder, longer, more ready to bury itself inside that warmth.

“Do I matter?”

“Aye. I’m not sure how or why, but you do matter. A great deal.”

She blessed him with a sweet smile that quickly turned seductive as she ran her fingernails along his shoulder blades. “Then I say we enjoy ourselves.” She reached for the hem of her T-shirt, but Erik stopped her.

“You leave that to me, my lady.”

He nudged her hands away and slid his under the thin fabric. Her stomach muscles tensed when he flattened his palm on the soft skin there.

“Your hands are cold.”

“So warm them.” He inched her shirt up, up, up until it had nowhere to go except off her completely. Tossing it with his shirt on the floor, he took in the incredible view.

Liddy’s breasts swelled over the top of the deep purple lace of her bra. The soft, pale mounds beckoned to him and he wasted no time in freeing them. Starting at her collarbone, he dropped light kisses in a trail that led him to her bosom.

“So beautiful,” he whispered just before his mouth closed around her left breast, his tongue massaging her nipple to a hardened bud.

A moan slipped from Liddy’s throat that only served to make him more aggressive, more possessive in his tasting of her. He wrapped his arms around her back and slid farther onto his bed. Rolling them, he turned Liddy so she was beneath him. He took a moment to study her as he rested on his elbow, looking down at her exquisite beauty.

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was breathlessly sexy.

“Absolutely nothing. You’re perfect. Tonight is perfect.”

She cupped his face. “It’s about to be.” She reached between them and flicked the button open on his shorts.

He sat back, unzipped, and removed his shorts along with his boxers. Completely naked before her, he enjoyed the way her eyes widened and surveyed and appraised.

“Everything meet your approval, my lady?”

“Aye. So far.” She shimmied out of her jeans, leaving only a pair of lace panties that matched her discarded purple bra.

Her slender waist caught Erik’s attention first and he bent to nip at the curve of her hip. She wriggled slightly beneath him so he steadied her with a hand to her other hip.

“As hot as your underwear is,” he began, his lips ghosting across her stomach, hovering above the waistband of her panties, “it has to go. I can’t have anything in my way when I devour you.”

Her body shuddered as her gaze locked on his. “Bon appétit.”

As if someone had fired a starting pistol, Erik practically ripped off her panties. He had no explanation for why he wanted her so badly, but it was as if his only point in life was to make love to Liddy Dyra. Where had she come from? Why had she crossed his path?

How could he keep her?

Chapter Seven

Liddy never expected to be naked in Erik’s bed so quickly, but she was thrilled at the pace. If they started making love on day one of her month as a human, they could make the most use of her time. They could make love every day.

Until I have to go.

She buried that thought which was easy to do right now as Erik made her body come alive with each kiss, each caress, each low growl that sounded from deep in his throat. Part of her wanted him to shift a little, to unleash the wolf’s wild abandon, to be his true self with her. If he shared his secret with her, their bond could grow stronger. Then it would be only one of them with a secret.

“I hate that Donald and the other lads were hassling you,” Erik said between nips along the rim of her left ear, “but I love that I got the chance to meet you because of them.”

“We would have met anyway.” Her whole point in being here was to be with him. She would have found a way to meet him today no matter what.

“How can you be so sure?” He propped up on his elbow as he gazed down at her, his bicep bunching as he supported himself. His eyes were thin green and brown swirls about wide black pupils and Liddy could actually smell his arousal. It was the best scent in the universe.

She shrugged one shoulder. “We were meant to. Don’t you think so?”

“Aye. It sounds ridiculous, but I do think we were meant to be right here, right now.”

“Good.” She pressed her hands to his cheeks and drew him down to her. “Let’s not waste a moment then.”

“What’s the rush?” He cocked an eyebrow at her, his mouth turning up on the left side. “We have all night. I want to make sure you don’t forget a single detail of what we do here tonight.”

Not likely that I will, my knight wolf. But she loved his determination.

He slid down the length of her body and parted her legs with a hand to each of her thighs. The sexy expression on his face changed to one of extreme concentration and her body rejoiced when he trailed open-mouthed kisses along her inner thigh. His breath was hot against her skin and she quivered in anticipation of having his mouth exactly where she wanted it.

“Erik, please.” Goddesses rarely begged for anything, least of all for something from a human. Erik, however, had what she needed, what she wanted, what she’d been dreaming of since Reardon had made Erik a werewolf and she’d become aware of him as one of her wild things.

Only he was never like her other wild things. From the start, there had been something more to Erik Rheagan. Something she couldn’t ignore. Something she’d been willing to give up her goddess powers for to become human and explore with him.

Something that had led her to this very moment.

When he tongued her, Liddy let out a moan she feared Thomas would be able to hear downstairs in the lighthouse, but that hadn’t stopped Erik. He stroked her with his tongue and fingers until she bucked and writhed on his bed, her body barely able to keep up with the sensations Erik caused. The man had magick in his touch.

Tension built up in her core and before she knew what was happening, she came in a shower of sparks behind her eyelids and a symphony of moans in her throat. It was a cruel trick, she realized now, for gods and goddesses not to take part in such pleasure. Eternity would be much more bearable if making love were allowed.

“I love the sounds you make, my lady,” Erik whispered as he kissed a path from her belly button, through the valley between her breasts, and along her throat until he got to her mouth.

“Time to see what sounds you make, my knight.”

Liddy reached down between them and wrapped her hands around his thick, hard arousal. She laughed when his eyes closed and another wolf growl vibrated from deep within him. She ran her hands up and down his length, eliciting more growls, each one louder and hoarser than the one before it. She desperately wanted to tell him he sounded like a wolf and that she liked that very much, but she figured he might not like that very much.

Biting her lips to keep them closed, she focused instead on bringing him to the edge. She had never done this before, but there was something instinctual about it. She increased the speed of her strokes then closed her mouth over him.

Erik’s entire body went rigid, then he cradled her head with his hands and rolled to his back so she was on top. She suckled, licked, teased until he came with a shout and a shudder. When Liddy looked up, long claws from Erik’s fingers were embedded in the mattress beneath them and he was literally panting.

Deciding she wouldn’t admit to seeing that right now, she turned around and concentrated on massaging Erik’s feet and legs to give him a minute to get his wolf in check. He grumbled something, but she didn’t stop what she was doing. After a few minutes, he sat up and pulled his feet free of her grasp.

Liddy braced herself for him to tell her she had to go now. He had to be concerned that he couldn’t entirely control his wolf around her. He’d want her to leave so he could rethink whatever was happening between them. He’d want to be alone and brood as only werewolves could.

She hoped he didn’t brood for too long because she only had a month.

“Liddy.” His voice was raspy and she realized what she’d done to him. Reining in his wolf had taken a physical toll on him. “Liddy, look at me.”

Slowly she turned around and raised her gaze to meet his, her heart fluttering when she found that smile on his lips.

“That was amazing,” he said, but she noticed he’d rearranged the bedcovers to hide the claw punctures. “I haven’t felt like that... ever.”

“Really?”

“Really.” He patted his lap. “Come here.”

She scooted up to straddle his lap again, loving how strong and warm his naked body was. “I liked being with you.”

His grin widened. “We’re not finished yet, are we?”

We’re not?

“You want more?” Her heart beat a hopeful rhythm in her chest. He wasn’t going to push her away? He wasn’t going to hide?

“Aye. I want everything you’re willing to give me, Liddy.”

“That might take all night.”

He brushed his lips against hers. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Before she could reply, he’d eased her to her back and crawled over her like a predator, ready to consume his prey. He set her body on fire again with kisses so hot she feared the bedcovers would burst into flames around them. The feel of his beard lightly scraping against her tender nipples made her quake beneath him. When his big, strong hands rubbed their way along her ribs to her hips, clamping on with such possession, she nearly shattered into hundreds of little pieces.

Erik sat up and she instantly missed his weight, his heat, his arousal pressing against her, seeking entry, which she was more than willing to give.

If he’ll get back over here.

He reached over to a small table next to his bed and retrieved something from the drawer. With a crinkle, he tore a little packet open then rolled a length of material over his erection.

Liddy searched her mind for the name of this human item. She’d seen it before when in the human realm. Condom. Aye. It prevented pregnancy and she almost laughed aloud at Erik being careful with her. Goddesses didn’t need birth control, but she didn’t stop him because she had no explanation to give him.

Besides, she was human right now. Did that mean she could...?

Liddy shook her head, not ready to allow herself to travel down that road. Aye, she was feeling everything a human could feel right now, but Gwyd’s magick had limits.

Right?

Erik slinked back to her, hovering over her on two muscled arms in a pushup position. When he lowered, his legs pressing against hers, his hips meeting hers, his arousal sliding between her thighs, she felt a moment of pure perfection. That moment extended when Erik entered her, filled her, became one with her in the exact way she’d craved.

Liddy lost herself to the rhythm between them, the easy flow of energy, the pure bliss that multiplied with each thrust. This connection, this union, this total merging was more than she’d ever thought possible. How in the world did humans manage to accomplish anything else when they could be doing this all the time?

Erik increased his tempo, soft noises of pleasure vibrating from both of them, until an incredible feeling rocked through Liddy and she let loose a sound somewhere between a satisfied sigh and a shout. He followed right after her then collapsed beside her with a grunt after pulling out of her.

“Should I take that grunt as a compliment?” She shifted to her side to look at him, not able to keep her fingers from running along the curve of his back down to his phenomenal ass.

“Mmm-hmm.” The sound was muffled due to his face being smooshed into the bedcovers. Slowly he lifted his head, a smile washing over his lips. “Can’t... form... words...”

“Wow. Rendered incoherent.” Not bad for her first actual attempt at this sex thing.

Erik let his head drop back down into the covers. “May...need... several minutes... to recover.”

“Take your time, my knight.” She rose to her knees. “I’ll just massage all this.”

“Bless you.”

Her hands delighted in the feel of his naked flesh under her fingertips. She touched him positively everywhere, loving the rumbling purrs that echoed in his chest. She wanted to tease him about those sounds, but there were secrets between them.

When her hands grew tired and her eyelids got heavy, she stretched out beside Erik, loving when he nudged her to her side and sidled up behind her. He draped his arm over her hips and burrowed his nose into her hair.

“Stay.” He pulled her earlobe between his teeth and tugged gently.

Stay in Erik’s cozy bed with his warm body pressed against her or go back to a boat she didn’t own to sleep alone? Easiest decision ever.

She nestled closer to him. “Good night.”

“Aye. Best night.”

When Liddy opened her eyes again, morning sun illuminated the entire space with pinkish-golden rays of light.

Sleeping. First time she’d ever done that too. Another delightful human experience. Especially after making love to the sexiest man on the planet. Erik’s appeal transcended time and space.

So did his lovemaking.

Liddy stared up at the ceiling, replaying last night’s adventures in her mind. Gods, she loved everything that had happened and looked forward to a repeat performance tonight and the next night and the next.

She turned her head to look at Erik still sleeping beside her. His chest rose and fell as if his slumber was deep. His lips were slightly parted and she couldn’t ignore that invitation. As she neared, however, she stopped when she realized Erik’s canines were lengthened, sharp points hanging beyond his lower lip. She’d seen his wolfman and wolf forms on several occasions, but something about seeing his semi-shift right now, at the vulnerability of a predator, naked and sleeping, was so damn sexy.

Glancing at his hands tucked in to his chest, she noted they were clawless. No fur covered his arms or anywhere else on that deliciously bare body. Only his teeth gave him away right now and somehow that made him... adorable.

Wishing she could continue with her intent to kiss him awake, she decided that wouldn’t be best. He’d want a few minutes to compose himself so instead she got out of the bed, making sure to jostle the bed enough to wake him.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” She didn’t look back as he shifted on the mattress. A few soft grumbles sounded as they had when his claws had come out, but she continued on her way, giving him the time he’d need to get those teeth retracted.

In the bathroom, she used the facilities then washed her face at the sink. She neatened her disheveled hair and wished for some magick to make herself more presentable. Currently she looked... well, she looked as if she’d had some fabulous sex and had enjoyed every minute of it. Not the worst look.

Deeming that Erik should have had himself back to full human by now, Liddy emerged from the bathroom. She found Erik sitting on the edge of the bed, his feet resting on the bed frame and his elbows leaning atop his knees. His head was in his hands and for a minute Liddy thought he looked the picture of regret.

That made her chest hurt. Physically hurt.

“We’re both going to be late for work if we don’t hustle,” he said, standing.

Gods help her, Liddy couldn’t resist letting her gaze wander down all that beautiful maleness.

Erik chuckled. “Keep looking at me like that, my lady, and we’ll never leave the lighthouse.”

“That’s not such a bad idea, is it?”

He stalked over to her, his muscles captivating as he moved. He grabbed her by the hips and pulled her up against him. “It’s an excellent idea, however, I’m thinking a day apart might give us the opportunity to come up with some creative ways to celebrate our reunion tonight.”

Liddy gave in to the kiss she’d been wanting since waking up. “I like the way you think.”

She liked the way Erik did many things.

****

Erik wiped the sweat off his forehead with a bandana then stuffed it into the back pocket of his cargo shorts. Today was a hot one and he’d been replacing worn boards on the docks for hours now. Thank the gods this time had something called sunscreen. Otherwise he would have been barbecued.

Hoisting a board up to his shoulder and grabbing the bucket of nails, he walked along the dock until he found another board in need of replacement. He set down the board he toted and using a cat’s paw and a hammer, he removed the nails in the old board. When he popped it free, a sliver of wood jabbed into his palm.

“Dammit.” He inspected his hand, running his finger over the shard, but his fingers were too big to pull it out.

“What’s with all the vulgarity out here?” Veronica Hamilton emerged from the cabin of her boat, wearing nothing but a tiny white bikini, a pair of sunglasses, and a dangerous smile. She stepped off her boat and approached him. “Did you hurt yourself, handsome?”

“Just a splinter,” he said, quickly standing up and feeling the need to back away from the tiger slinking toward him.

“Let me see.” She wiggled her fingers. “I have a gentle touch. Unless, of course, you like a rough touch.”

Erik looked past her and she followed his gaze.

“Derek’s still in Florida. Golfing.” The way she said golfing made Erik think Roni didn’t believe her husband was, in fact, golfing. “Besides, I’m only helping an injured man. Nothing wrong with that, now is there?”

He guessed not, and the splinter really was burning, lodged in his palm like it was.

Roni held out her hand and Erik presented his. She put one of her hands under his, using her free hand to probe at the length of wood still sticking out of his palm.

“Ouch!” He recoiled when she moved the sliver, making it poke him and pinch his skin.

“Don’t be a big baby.” She offered him a coy smile. “Come on board and I’ll rustle up a pair of tweezers.” She took his hand and tugged so he would follow behind her, which he did for a few steps before pulling free.

“I have tweezers back home.”

“Okay, then let’s go to your place.” She changed her direction to walk up the dock.

“No,” Erik called after her. “I mean I can take care of it myself, but thanks.”

Roni put her perfectly manicured hands on her perfectly exposed hips. “A show of independence or are you insulting me, Erik?”

“I don’t make a habit of insulting lasses,” he said, and that was the truth. He also didn’t make a habit of letting married women, who had given him more than enough hints at what they wanted, into his home. If Roni was this forward out in the open, he couldn’t imagine—didn’t want to imagine—what she’d be like in private.

Besides, he liked that the last woman who had been in his home was Liddy. If he were lucky, when he popped back to the lighthouse at lunchtime, his pillows would still smell like Liddy’s hair.

He couldn’t believe what an amazing night they’d had together. He hadn’t planned on seeing her last night, but was overjoyed Fate had granted him that time. He also hadn’t planned on waking up with her still at his home this morning. Fortunately she hadn’t noticed his extended canines because she’d been in the bathroom when he’d awakened and felt wolf teeth hanging below his lip. Despite that risk of exposure, hope for a similar night with Liddy tonight powered him today.

“If you don’t let me help you with that splinter, I will be insulted.” Roni pouted and again he had the sense she was a lonely woman.

“Can you bring the tweezers out here?” he asked.

Her left eyebrow quirked up. “Don’t trust me?”

Not even a little bit. “The light is better out here. I don’t want you blindly jabbing me with tweezers.” He smiled, hoping she’d take his words as a joke.

“Fine.” She huffed softly, but went back to her boat and disappeared into the cabin.

Erik took a seat on one of the two Adirondack chairs the Hamiltons had on the dock in front of their slip. He swabbed the sweat on his forehead again and scanned the water. Many boats were out there today, enjoying the summer weather and calm winds. Erik had always liked the look of boats. It amazed him that something that heavy could float and move gracefully like a swan. He’d gained a better understanding of the science behind it all working for Thomas and when he went back to Ireland, he had some ideas on improvements to boats of that time. He’d be a sailing genius.

Maybe he’d be able to get Rianne involved if he lived a sailor’s life. She liked the sea and had always enjoyed when he took her to the shore. He’d never actually taken her out on the water in a boat because the only boat he had access to was Reardon’s and the men didn’t know about Rianne. Before Reardon turned him and they were banished, Erik had actually been thinking about buying his own ship. He had more than enough funds, but those funds were gods knew where now.

Unfortunate. It would have been nice if he could have given his riches to Rianne before he left. They’d no doubt fallen into the hands of thieves and other unsavory characters by now.

No matter. He could build up his fortune again. Probably get some wealthy investors once he showed off what he knew of boats now. He could be captain of an entire fleet if he were smart about it.

And I’ll sail Rianne away from that mother of hers. He hoped his sister could hold on until he returned.

“Here we go.” Roni climbed the narrow stairs from the cabin, clicking a pair of tweezers between her fingers. She hadn’t put any additional clothing on and Erik concentrated on averting his gaze when she kneeled before him, her breasts on display. “Put your hand here.” She patted his thigh.

He rested his hand, palm up, where she’d indicated and she bent forward. Again, Erik shot his gaze up to the sky, to the boats on the water, to a seagull who had landed on a piling nearby. He angled his head at the seagull and the gull mirrored his movement. Was it the same seagull Liddy had helped yesterday or his mate? He had no way of telling, but something about the way the bird studied him suggested they had met before.

“Stay still.” Roni used her hand to hold his down more firmly. She caught the end of the sliver and yanked it out.

“Ouch!”

“You said that already, baby.”

He brought up his hand to inspect it, but Roni stopped him.

“Let me kiss it better.”

Before he could stop her, she’d lowered her head to his still upturned hand and pressed her lips to the pinhole left in his palm. Her tongue brushed against his flesh and he pulled his hand free as he stood.

“Thanks.”

“You could thank me properly by having dinner with me tonight.”

“I can’t, Mrs. Hamilton. I have plans already.”

She pursed her lips as if she didn’t believe him then her eyes brightened. “A kiss then. On the cheek at least.” She jutted her head toward him and pointed to her left cheek. “A quick peck. C’mon.”

What could be the harm in that?

He leaned forward, aiming to press his lips lightly to her cheek, but Roni turned her head at the last second and kissed him directly on the lips. Shock had him sputtering and backing up.

But the gasp that sounded behind him was what really scared him.

Erik whirled around to find Liddy standing there, holding a neat stack of white towels, her ultra-blue eyes wide.

And hurt.

“Liddy...” He immediately forgot about his still stinging palm and reached for her.

“No.” She backed up a few steps, using the towels like a shield between them.

“Liddy, please.” Again he took a step toward her, but she retreated.

Roni slinked around him, making sure to rub up against him on her way by. “Hi,” she purred. “I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Veronica Hamilton. You must be new here.”

Liddy blinked at Roni, and Erik wanted to scoop her up, carry her back to his lighthouse, and explain everything in private.

“Are those my towels?” Roni pointed to the stack.

Slowly, Liddy nodded, not taking her gaze off Erik, and he wanted desperately to apologize though he wasn’t guilty of anything. Roni had kissed him. Not the other way around. Additionally, she’d taken that kiss without his permission.

Erik reached forward and grabbed the stack of towels. He pushed them into Roni’s arms, making her almost drop the pile. “Here,” he said.

Turning back to Liddy, he captured her arm and attempted to nudge her into a walk. For a small lass, her feet were solidly planted to that spot on the dock.

“Let go of me.” Those simple four words held so much power, nearly knocking Erik off his feet.

“I’ll let go, but promise you and I can talk.”

“Nothing to talk about, I suppose.” Her eyes looked so sad that it nearly broke Erik’s heart. “You’re free to kiss whoever you want.”

“Amen to that,” Roni added.

Erik turned and glared at Roni, a growl simmering below the surface. “Don’t let us further disturb you, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“Mrs.?” Liddy frowned then shook her head. “She’s married.”

“I did not kiss her,” Erik insisted. “She kissed me.” The desperation he felt—the absolute necessity of getting Liddy to believe him—surprised him. They had only shared one night together, only met yesterday, but she’d already come to mean something to him. Something important.

Liddy turned to walk away again, but Roni called to her. “He’s right, honey. I kissed him.”

When Liddy stopped, Erik let out a breath. Perhaps all was not lost yet.

“He had a splinter from working on these boards,” Roni explained, gesturing to the boards and Erik’s tools on the dock. “He needed a hand removing the splinter so I gave him one.” She set the towels on the closest Adirondack chair. “Then I demanded a proper thank you which I collected in the form of a kiss. Erik is the innocent party here. I swear.”

Erik blinked at Roni. Why had she defended him? She could have turned this situation to her favor by not saying anything.

Roni met his gaze, her cheeks pinked in a rare display of embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Erik. That was... inappropriate of me. It won’t happen again.” She looked past him at Liddy. “Thanks for the towels, honey. I’ll leave you guys to sort this out.” She boarded her boat, went below deck, and closed the cabin door.

Erik turned back to Liddy, relieved that she was still standing there.

“What she said?” Liddy motioned to Roni’s boat with her chin. “It’s true?”

Nodding, Erik took a step closer and held out his hand. A streak of blood had dried on his palm where the splinter had come out.

Liddy leaned over his hand then took it in her hands. Her touch made the air rush out of his lungs. A wrinkle formed between her black brows. “You should wear gloves when doing this work.”

“I don’t like gloves,” he said. Most of the time the fingers were too short and tight on standard gloves. He had... well, he had werewolf hands.

“I don’t like seeing you kissing another woman.” Liddy let go of his hand. “I know that’s completely stupid because I don’t own you. We’ve only spent one night together.”

“Aye, one amazing night.” He risked lifting his hand to trail a finger along her jaw. When she didn’t shrug off his touch, he hooked his other hand on her hip and tugged until she took the steps necessary to be against him. “I wouldn’t mind if you wanted to own me, Liddy Dyra.”

Before she could reply, he lowered his mouth to hers and gave her a kiss he hoped explained how much he meant that statement.

She must have gotten the message because she clasped her hands at the back of his neck and deepened the kiss, her hips grinding into his and making him wish they were back at his lighthouse.

And naked. Definitely naked.

Liddy ended the kiss with a leisurely stroke of her tongue against his and a hum from her throat that was one of the most erotic noises Erik had ever heard. She studied his face for a moment before her lips turned up in a smile.

“Are we good?” He wasn’t sure what he’d do if her answer was no.

“We’re good. I guess I can’t blame Veronica Hamilton for wanting to kiss you.”

He couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled out of him. “I only want to kiss you, Liddy. I promise. We should probably be taking this thing slowly, but I can’t help wanting to move fast.”

“I feel the same.” She chewed on her bottom lip and that instantly made Erik want his mouth right there. “Maybe we need some chaperones tonight. Care to meet some of my friends?”

He didn’t want any company but hers tonight, but something in her eyes told him meeting her friends was important to her. Or maybe it was her way of putting the brakes on what was burning between them. She said she felt the same as him, but maybe she had reservations.

If meeting her friends would put her at ease, he’d do it. Hell, he’d do anything to continue seeing her.

Chapter Eight

When Liddy had come down the dock and witnessed Erik’s lips fused with that woman’s, she’d felt as if someone had plunged his or her fingers into her chest and ripped out her heart. Her very human, very tender heart. She’d instantly regretted calling Reardon this morning and suggesting he and the rest of the group drive down to Rhode Island tonight. After seeing Erik’s extended canines this morning and remembering how his claws had dug into the mattress when they’d made love, she’d figured getting his werewolf secret out into the open would be good for him. Then he wouldn’t have to hide.

She’d still have to, but it’d be one less secret between them. She wanted Erik to be comfortable around her and not feel as if he had to keep such tight control of his wolf. Liddy was also curious if loosening the leash on his wolf might tighten their bond. She’d seen what finding their soul mates had done with Reardon and the other wolves. Was that possible between her and Erik? And if it was, she had to get going on it before her month was up.

But watching that woman possess Erik’s mouth had made Liddy skid to a halt on the dock and crush the life out of those towels she’d been holding. She hadn’t considered he might already have a relationship in progress. Sure, she’d checked in on him, but for the most part she’d stayed away because the temptation was too great—temptation she couldn’t act upon as a goddess. The moment she’d encountered him as a human, however, she’d automatically assumed he was free for the courting. Finding out she’d been wrong had been a knife to her soul.

Only she hadn’t been wrong. Both Erik and the lass—Roni—had assured her it was just a kiss. Erik hadn’t even wanted the kiss. Roni had taken liberties and maybe Liddy was being stupid, but she believed them. How could they have a relationship when Erik had made love to Liddy as if it had been his only mission in life?

She’d left Erik to continue his dock renovating and had returned to the marina office, confident that Reardon and the group coming was still a good idea. Now that they were almost here though, she was nervous, which was another foreign emotion to her. Goddesses rarely experienced anxiety. The power that came with her role gave her a certain amount of unwavering strength—except when she’d been held captive by Baglor of course. As a human right now, however, she was sure about nothing.

Except how I feel about Erik.

Now, on the beach she and Erik had walked along last night, she sat on the edge of a lawn chair, a huge cooler of drinks and food at her side, and waited for her evening with Erik to begin. She was eager to see him, but also wondered how he would react to seeing his former leader and the other warriors with whom he’d fought. She knew the lads were like family. She also knew she’d been the one to separate them and she worried about the time when she’d have to admit to being Flidae. Would Erik be furious with her for the banishment? Would he be able to forgive her for deceiving him?

Would it matter? Once her time was up, their relationship would be over anyway. Would he think their time together was worth it even if it couldn’t continue? Did she have to come clean about being Flidae? When the month was over, could she just let Erik assume she’d left him?

So many questions she couldn’t answer. So many questions with potential answers she wouldn’t like. But she’d made this choice. She had to see it through now.

Voices behind her caught her attention and she turned to see people approaching. The size of some of the people made it obvious it was Reardon and the rest of wolves. The slightly smaller figures were their lasses.

“Liddy,” Jessica said by way of greeting.

“Raven lass, nice to see you.” Liddy got up from her chair and greeted Jessica with a quick hug.

The other lasses all closed in for hugs as well, and Liddy’s throat got a little tight, knowing these women understood her reasons for becoming a human. For wanting this time—this chance—with Erik.

Reardon approached next after he’d opened two lawn chairs and put them side by side next to Liddy’s and the one she’d set up for Erik. “So, it’s true. You’re a human, Flidae.”

“Aye. And I didn’t realize what I was missing by being a goddess,” she said.

“Humans are fun,” Brandy said, “but you can’t beat being a werewolf.”

“I’ll have to agree with that,” Nika, the newest wolf among them, said.

“Werewolf lasses are pretty amazing,” Jaemus agreed, dropping a kiss on the top of Nika’s head.

Kole nuzzled his mate, Emma, who was also a werewolf lass.

Shawn wrapped his arms around Jessica from behind her.“Raven lasses are just as fantastic.”

“You’d better say that.” Jessica elbowed him, making him wiggle away, but he didn’t stay away long. That was how it was with soul mates. The connection made them want to be in each other’s space all the time.

Hell, she already felt that way with Erik.

“So where is he?” Kole asked.

“He’ll be here soon,” Liddy said. “I thought it’d be more of a surprise if he walked in on all of you here.”

“And the subject of us being wolves is an acceptable topic of discussion for this evening?” Jaemus asked as he put two more lawn chairs in the circle.

“Aye.” Liddy caught herself wrapping and unwrapping a coil of her hair around her finger. She had to get her nerves under control. “I want him to know that I know about werewolves. He’s had some trouble concealing his wolf.”

“Around you? Of course he has,” Shawn said. “Don’t you bring that out in us or something?”

“As a goddess I could, aye.” Liddy sat in her chair and the rest of them filed in, completing the circle, save for one empty chair. Erik’s chair. “As a human, I have no powers.”

“Human women have powers.” Reardon slid his arm along the back of Brandy’s chair. “They ensnare men with ease.”

“I don’t think there was anything easy about it,” Brandy said. “I seem to recall jamming a sword into this one in order to be with you.” She waved a hand toward Liddy.

Liddy ran her hand over her chest as she sat, remembering what Brandy had done to save her soul mate. It had been Liddy’s first indication that the human emotion of love was more powerful than any goddess magick. She’d begun to want to feel that emotion for herself after that encounter with Brandy. Watching Nika love Jaemus, Emma fall for Kole, and Jessica and Shawn find each other made her want grow. Meeting a wolf like Erik only solidified it.

“What’s happened between the two of you so far?” Emma asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

Liddy’s cheeks grew hot. Fortunately it was dim enough with the setting sun that no one would see. “We... umm... we spent the night together last night.”

“Thatta girl,” Jessica said. “Go after what you want and don’t waste a second.”

Liddy did not think about only having a month as a human. Only Jessica knew of the short timeline and Liddy wanted to keep it that way. For now. Until she told Erik herself.

“And we’re supposed to call you Liddy?” Jaemus asked. “Erik doesn’t know that you’re Flidae?”

“No. I don’t like lying to him, but as werewolves, you all know that you wouldn’t get... involved with Flidae.” She met each of the wolves’ gazes.

“We wouldn’t even think of it,” Shawn said.

“No offense,” Kole added.

“None taken. Goddesses don’t get to do this.” She gestured to all of them. “They don’t get to find soul mates.”

“But you can,” Reardon said, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve been granted that chance. Why?”

Smart wolf. “It’s a reward for my time spent in Baglor’s realm as a captive. Gwyd, the god of enchantment, decided I deserved compensation for the ordeal. He also guessed how I felt about Erik.” She flicked her gaze to Jessica, noting the conflicted expression on the raven shifter’s face. Liddy wished she could hear Jessica’s thoughts right now, but the raven was blocking them. She was most likely wishing for Liddy to reveal that this reward had an expiration date.

But she wasn’t going to do that. Not when this thing with Erik had just started and was going well. She would. Only when she absolutely had to.

“We won’t say anything now,” Reardon said, nodding at each of the men as if ordering them. He hadn’t stopped being their leader, had he? “But we’ll trust you will reveal all when you feel the time is right. Secrets can’t exist between soul mates.”

Liddy clasped her hands together. “I will.” Or would it be better if Erik just woke up one day and found that she was gone?

Before an ache could form in her chest over that notion, all of the men shot to their feet and ran out of the circle.

“What’s this about?” Nika asked as she and the other lasses got to their feet.

“They smelled Erik approaching,” Liddy said as she stood as well.

Emma turned her nose up to the air. “Huh, yeah, I do smell something extra on the breeze.”

Liddy came around her lawn chair to face the men circled around Erik. They were clapping him on the back and jostling him around, like pack members are programmed to do around each other.

“Look how excited they all are.” Jessica motioned to them with a smile. “It’s like Christmas morning.”

“They’re all just a bunch of boys,” Nika said, laughing.

“Yeah,” Brandy said. “Boys who sometimes sport fur, fangs, and claws.”

As the men walked toward the circle of lawn chairs, Liddy’s palms grew sweaty. What if Erik hadn’t wanted his secret out just like she didn’t? What if this revelation made him angry? What if he didn’t want to see her anymore? What would she do for the rest of the month? Could she contact Gwyd and ask him to make her a goddess again?

No, wild goddess. You are there for the month whether your wolf wants you or not. Maybe you’ll find someone else to pass the time with, came Gwyd’s voice in her head.

She doubted she could find anyone who could take Erik’s place now that she’d sampled him intimately. She’d been thinking about having more samples all day.

“Hey,” Erik said as he stepped up to her. He dropped a kiss on her lips that instantly gave her hope. “So these are your friends?” His expression was slightly confused. Still damn sexy though.

“Aye,” she said. “I spent some time in Vermont where I met all of them before I came to Rhode Island.” Not technically a lie. She’d of course known Reardon for years in Ireland, but she had met him again in Vermont as well. She put her hand on Erik’s forearm as the group wandered back to their chairs. “Erik, I... I know what they are.”

Erik grew statue still. He didn’t even blink. “What they are?” His voice was barely above a whisper, and Liddy could tell he wasn’t certain if he should launch into defense mode or not.

“I know that they’re...” She checked the beach around them, but their group was still the only one around. “I know that they’re werewolves and so are you.”

Erik threw a frantic glance to Reardon.

“It’s all right, Erik,” Reardon said. “Liddy is a friend to us. She can be trusted with our secret.”

“How did you know I was a werewolf?” he asked Liddy.

“I saw your claws last night and your teeth were out this morning when I awoke. I figured you were like Reardon and these others.” Liddy gestured to her guests. “When I told them your name, they said they knew you from their time in Ireland of the past and were eager to see you.” She shot a quick look to Reardon, hoping he wouldn’t correct her lie. Not now.

Erik sniffed the air. “These lasses? They are wolves too?”

“Aye,” Jaemus said. “All but Jessica here.”

“I’m a raven shifter,” Jessica said.

“A raven shifter?” Erik put his hands to his brows, his forehead wrinkling. “Raven shifters are a thing?”

Everyone chuckled and Kole got up from his seat. He clamped a hand on Erik’s shoulder and shook him. “So are soul mates, friend. We’ve each found ours during our banishment. Done our something worthy and have been rewarded with true love.”

“And you’re staying here? Not returning to our Ireland?” Erik pulled free of Kole’s hold.

“We have what we need here,” Shawn called from his seat. “What’s there to go back for in Ireland? We’re done fighting, Erik. We don’t have to fight anymore. This time is good and filled with opportunity.”

“But... I have to go back.” Erik looked at Liddy, his brows drawn together. “I should have told you. I can’t stay here.”

“Aye, you can,” Kole said. “It is a choice the most gracious goddess of wild things gave us.” His piercing blue gaze connected with Liddy’s for a moment before turning to Erik. “We can stay here and live good lives.”

Erik shook his head. “No. I have to go back to Ireland. Someone there is waiting for me. She needs me.”

****

For the second time today, Erik witnessed a shocked face on Liddy. Gods, he never cared about hurting a lass he’d slept with before her, but Liddy was... special. He’d known the minute he’d seen her being hassled by Donald and company. Being with her last night had only confirmed the initial assessment.

And now he’d disappointed her. Twice.

“Liddy,” he said softly. His mind was reeling from seeing Reardon and the other lads again. From realizing Liddy knew werewolves existed. From learning Liddy had seen his claws and fangs. From finding out Liddy knew he wasn’t from this time. Mostly, however, he was afraid she thought the worst of him.

Again.

“I have a sister,” he said. “Back in Ireland. In the past.”

Suddenly Reardon was beside him, nudging him around to face him. “A sister? You never told us. You never thought about her among us. Flidae didn’t know either, did she?”

Erik shook his head. “I didn’t want our warrior lives to touch Rianne in anyway. She thought I was a merchant like our father. She’s a lot younger than I am. She deserves to live in a world where people don’t pay other people to kill. A world where werewolves aren’t real.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I tried to keep her protected...” He looked at Liddy and took her hands in his. “But she’s alone now.”

Liddy’s eyes were full of tears and he brushed away the first one that escaped. Why did she cry for someone she didn’t even know?

Reardon put his arm around Liddy as she slipped her hands free of Erik’s. When she turned into Reardon’s chest a little and let the tears fall, Erik was thoroughly confused. It was not as if it were her fault Rianne was alone.

“She’s totally alone?” Reardon asked, his hand running up and down Liddy’s back.

“Well, no. Her mother is around, but she’s not to be depended on. After my father died, Rianne’s mother stopped being a mother. I was the one that made sure Rianne was fed, clothed, sheltered on a regular basis. She lives outside Dublin and is old enough to take care of herself, but she’s my family and I need to get back to her.”

Reardon nodded then peeled Liddy back, pushing her hair back from her face. He looked at her for a moment before looking at Erik. “You’ve got to do your something worthy then.”

“Aye.” Eric desperately wanted to hold Liddy, but she went to the circle of lawn chairs and sat with the lasses. When he thought about the fact that his fellow warriors had all opted to stay in this time with their soul mates, it all made sense to him. Stupid. He should have told Liddy upfront he didn’t intend to stay in Rhode Island. Here she thought they were starting something and he’d just announced he planned to leave. To go to Ireland in the past no less. Not even a place she could visit or decide to go with him.

Or could she?

He sent that question out with his mind, hoping Flidae would answer, but only silence greeted him.

“Does Flidae talk to you, visit you?” he asked Reardon.

Reardon swallowed loudly and flicked a glance back to Liddy and the others. “Aye.”

“Have you been in contact with her recently?”

“Why?” Reardon folded his arms across his chest, his eyes wary.

Erik shrugged. “She hasn’t been around.” He’d assumed it was because she’d tapped into the thoughts he’d been having about her, but if Reardon and the others hadn’t heard from her either maybe it was because of some other reason.

“Aye, I’ve heard from her. Trust me, she’s always... around.” He motioned to the chairs. “Set things right with Liddy and then let’s catch up.” Reardon squeezed Erik’s shoulder. We’ve missed you, friend.

Erik snapped his fingers. “I forgot we could do that.” He tapped his temple. “I haven’t been around other werewolves in some time.”

There will be plenty of time for sharing thoughts, Reardon said. For now, let’s respect Liddy and use normal conversation.

Aye. Erik followed Reardon to the circle of chairs and leaned down to Liddy from behind her seat. “Take a walk with me?”

Liddy glanced at Brandy next to her, and when the other lass nodded, Liddy got up. Just how tight was she with his warrior friends and their soul mates?

They walked a short distance from the others, nothing but the water lapping at the shore and muted voices sounding behind them. Finally, Erik couldn’t take how quiet Liddy was being anymore.

“Please don’t hate me, Liddy.” He stopped walking and took her hand, encouraged when she let him hold it. “I should have told you that I wasn’t in Rhode Island for good.”

She used her other hand to wipe the remnants of her tears away. “I never said I was staying for good either.”

Hmm. He hadn’t thought of that, but it was true.

“Look,” she said, “we’ve only known each other for a day. Of course there are things we don’t know about each other. I didn’t consider you might have family. Family that needs you.”

“Do you have any family?”

She let out a nearly noiseless laugh. “Family? No. It’s just me. It’s always been just me.”

Liddy started walking again, her form looking small in the twilight as she increased the distance between them.

It’s always been just me. What did that mean? And why did he want to do something about that situation for her?

He jogged to catch up to her. “So you know I’m a werewolf, that I come from the past, that I have a sister, that I need to get back to Ireland. All I know about you is that you have this cute sprinkle of freckles just above your fantastic ass.”

She laughed.

“Tell me something more about you, Liddy. Please.”

She stopped walking and faced him. He’d been so distracted by seeing Reardon and the other lads that he hadn’t noticed the short flowered skirt Liddy wore. He was noticing now though. Specifically how long her amazing legs were. She had on a tight hooded sweatshirt too and he wondered what—if anything—she wore beneath it. Gods, he hoped he got to find out the answer to that question in a hands-on manner later tonight.

“Something about me is that I’m too willing to give you my heart.”

In a single step, he was in front of her and folding her into his arms. “I feel the same way, my lady. I promise you, I feel the same.” He rested his chin on the top of her head, breathing in her scent, which somehow seemed stronger to him. Odd. “What do you say we see where this thing goes? Maybe we can figure out something that will work for both of us.” He felt her nod then he backed up so he could see her face. “In a world where werewolves, raven shifters, and animal mediums exist and time travel is possible, surely two people can make their own magic, aye?”

She offered him a smile. “I’d like to try.”

“Then we’ll try, my lady. We’ll try.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll be needing to properly thank you for reuniting me with my friends. You have any ideas on how I might do that?”

Her grin widened. “I might have some suggestions.”

“So you don’t hate me then?” He had to know.

She placed her hands flat on his chest, her palms warm through the cotton of his T-shirt and that simple touch had him wanting so much more. “I don’t hate you.” She rose up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He tightened his hold around her waist, pulling her in close and deepening the kiss. Gods, she tasted so good. He could easily forget all about Reardon and the other lads and whisk Liddy off to his lighthouse.

Liddy, fortunately, had enough social grace to think for the both of them and she ended the kiss before it consumed them. Barely. “C’mon. We have guests.”

“Do we also have food?” Erik took Liddy’s hand and led her back toward the group. “I’m starving.”

She smiled up at him, her lips still puffy from their kissing. “Clearly.”

“For food, my lady. For food.”

“Could have fooled me.” She nudged his ribs with her elbow and tension leached out of him. She truly didn’t hate him. She’d kissed him and was joking around with him. He hadn’t completely blown his shot with her.

He was still unsure what would become of this chance, but something about knowing she was willing to see what happened consoled him. Rianne needed him and he wanted to see her again, but until he did something worthy he was stuck here. Being stuck with Liddy softened this entire banishment thing. And maybe, in the time it took him to figure out what his something worthy was, they could figure out how to be together too.

Because there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted to be with Liddy. Since meeting her, he hadn’t pined for Flidae, which was good. Wanting a goddess had always been ridiculous, but he hadn’t been able to stop what he felt for her. Though she was the reason he’d been forced from his life in Ireland, had been separated from his sister, and had been ripped from the other warriors, all of whom were like family to him, Flidae had inspired such desire in him. Even after she’d explained goddesses didn’t get involved with humans—or werewolves—Erik couldn’t ignore her beauty, her appeal, her ability to possess all this waking thoughts.

And much of his sleeping thoughts too.

Now that Liddy was here though, things were different. He was thinking more clearly, more reasonably. The fact that she already knew he was a werewolf got rid of the secrecy. That was a major obstacle totally eradicated. He didn’t have to hide with Liddy. He could be himself—his entire self. Aside from the others sitting in that circle of lawn chairs, there weren’t any other people he could say that about. Not even Thomas and Rianne knew he was a werewolf. He’d thought about telling them, but he’d been banished before he could tell Rianne and Flidae hadn’t wanted him to tell Thomas. He couldn’t find any sense in scaring an old man who’d gone the majority of his life believing monsters weren’t real anyway.

But monsters were real. As real as the lads sitting in that circle. Hell, they were monsters long before they’d become werewolves. Mercenaries hired to slay kings’ enemies were beasts even though they didn’t have claws and fangs. At least banishment had allowed him the time to reevaluate what he’d been doing with his life. Although he missed Ireland and Rianne, he liked the lad he was today far more than the one he’d been.

Liddy seemed to like that lad too.

When they reached the chairs, they sat next to each other and Liddy dug into the cooler by her seat, passing out sandwiches and chips and drinks to everyone.

“So have you been here the whole time?” Jaemus asked.

Erik pointed to the shore. “Aye. Washed up down there somewhere. Thomas, who owns the marina, found me.”

“Lucky bastard,” Shawn mumbled.

Jessica rubbed Shawn’s thigh.

“How did you... land?” Erik asked.

“Across train tracks. Lost a leg.” Shawn winced, but then smiled at Jessica beside him. “But gained a soul mate and eventually Flidae saw fit to give me my leg back too.” He put his hand atop Jessica’s. “It all worked out in the end, but I was damn grouchy for a while.”

“Damn grouchy,” Jessica echoed, nodding her head.

Shawn tugged on her hair then dove into his sandwich.

“How about the rest of you?” Erik finished his sandwich and before he could ask for more, Liddy reached into the cooler and presented him with another. Almost as if she’d read his mind.

Each of his friends told his story and the lasses added how they’d become soul mates. Every now and then, Erik glanced at Liddy’s face as she listened. The stories appeared to truly touch her, making him wonder if she were searching for the kind of love his friends had described. He had to admit they made it sound fantastic.

“And your something worthies were tied to finding your soul mates?” he asked when all the stories had been recounted.

“Aye,” Reardon said. “And now we’re a pack again.”

“A pack that runs a construction business,” Jaemus said.

“Construction?” Erik supposed he could picture these burly men building things.

“Warrior Construction,” Kole said. “And we’re frigging busy.”

“This is the first vacation we’ve been able to take,” Shawn said.

“And you spent your precious free time coming to see me?” Erik put his hand to his chest, grinning. “I’m touched.”

Jaemus threw a napkin at Erik. “We came to see Liddy, fool.”

“Ouch. That hurt.” Erik laughed along with the rest of them. “Seriously though, how long are you able to stay?”

“I’m afraid tonight is it, my friend,” Reardon said. “We have to be on the road by noon tomorrow to be back in time for Dylan’s championship baseball game.”

“Dylan?”

“Oops,” Brandy said. “Did we forget to mention the children?”

“Shows how much of a vacation we needed,” Emma said. “Dylan is Brandy’s son and Kole and I adopted a young wolf, Kylie.”

Erik wasn’t sure he’d heard Emma correctly. “Did you say a young wolf?”

“Aye,” Kole said. “Kylie is a spunky white werewolf, natural born like Reardon.”

Nika and Jaemus were whispering amongst themselves, their thoughts blocked, then Nika stood up. “Speaking of children...”

All at once, they were all on their feet, except for Liddy, and congratulations circled around along with hugs and handshakes.

“What just happened?” Liddy asked.

“Oh, sorry,” Nika said. “I’m pregnant!”

Liddy’s eyes teared and she folded Nika into a hug. “So wonderful.” Then she looked at Jaemus and took each of their hands. “You are going to make exceptional parents.”

Erik didn’t miss the longing on Liddy’s face or the way her voice cracked. Did she want what Nika and Jaemus had? Did she want to be someone’s soul mate?

“Perhaps you two can come visit my wolf sanctuary,” Brandy said, pointing to Erik and Liddy. “We can all have some end of the summer fun and properly celebrate this fantastic news.” She rubbed Nika’s belly.

Liddy’s brows arched hopefully. “Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary is something to see. Brandy’s wolves are beautiful and the sanctuary itself is impressive.”

“Thank you, Liddy.” Brandy raised her can of soda to Liddy. “What started out as a life dream and a tribute to my sister, ended up bringing me so much more.” She rested her head on Reardon’s shoulder.

Reardon dropped a kiss on the top of Brandy’s head and watching that tender display made something warm spread out from the center of Erik’s chest. Did he want what they had?

Aye. More than he’d realized.

Chapter Nine

A week later, Liddy and Erik were in a White Marina pickup truck barreling down a dirt road to Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary. After that night on the beach and a nice breakfast the next morning, the group had traveled back to Vermont with a firm promise from Liddy and Erik to visit the following weekend. All week, Liddy had wondered if she was doing the right thing.

Erik has a sister. That thought kept cycling around in her head. She was the reason he’d been separated from his only kin. She felt terrible about that fact. If she had known—if he hadn’t blocked all thoughts of Rianne from her—perhaps she would have done something different to Erik for using the wolf to kill. Liddy didn’t know exactly what else she could have done, but the notion that her ruling had left a poor lass on her own without her big brother to protect her didn’t sit right with her.

She couldn’t do anything about it now, however, with no goddess powers. Although...

Gwyd, can you hear me? she asked with her mind.

Aye, wild goddess?

Liddy stole a quick glance to Erik in the driver’s seat, looking all sexy hot wearing a pair of sunglasses, a charcoal gray T-shirt, and a pair of camouflage cargo shorts. The man made basic attire look heavenly. Fortunately he focused on the road before them, the GPS stating they were about three miles from the sanctuary, so he wasn’t paying attention to her at the moment.

Can you check something for me? she asked Gwyd.

Missing goddess powers, are we? Gwyd teased. What do you want me to check?

She explained about Erik’s sister. Could you pop in and see if she’s all right?

How do I find her?

Erik said she lives outside of Dublin. Her name is Rianne... Liddy stopped. She assumed Rianne’s last name was the same as Erik, but maybe that wasn’t true.

“Erik?”

“Aye?” He glanced at her then turned his gaze back to the road. “Getting tired of being in the truck?”

“Aye, but that’s not what I was going to say.”

“Oh. What is it then?”

“Your sister, Rianne? You share a father, aye?”

Erik nodded. “Rheagans, all of us. Glad Rianne kept the family name. After my father passed, her mother couldn’t bear to say the name so she went back to her own family’s name.” He smiled slightly here. “Rianne, however, said she had been born a Rheagan and she was proud to be one. She wanted to keep the name.” He tightened his grip on the steering wheel and that same guilt crept back into Liddy’s mind. Erik should be with his sister.

I’ll find the lass, wild goddess, Gwyd said in her head. I’m sure she’s fine.

Liddy hoped that was true. She’d never forgive herself if something had happened to the poor child in Erik’s absence—an absence Liddy had caused.

“What does Rianne look like?” It would seem odd if she only asked one question about his sister. Best to make an official conversation of it now.

“Like me, only prettier.” He chuckled and Liddy couldn’t help but join in. Erik was adorable, laughing at his own joke. “Same reddish-blond hair, but she’s got her mother’s brown eyes and darker skin than me. She’s tall and skinny. When she was a baby, my father had bought her this carved wooden giraffe, saying it reminded him of her. It was their little joke later on that she looked like a giraffe.”

“Your father was a good man?”

Erik heaved in a breath then sifted it out slowly as he took a right at a four-way intersection of dirt roads, a sign proclaiming Silver Moon was three-fourths of a mile away. “He was. A hard worker. I guess I didn’t appreciate that at the time. I was to be a merchant like him, had been learning the job, but I guess I longed for something more adventurous. When Reardon and the other lads strode through our port, I took a chance and escaped.” He combed his hand through his hair, his other hand still tight on the wheel. “I suppose I didn’t think carefully about what I was escaping to, you know? Warrior life was exciting and it brought more riches than working as a merchant every day would, but I always think about what would have happened if I’d stayed with my father. Would his business have taken off if we’d run it together? Would he have still found Rianne’s mother and started a family with her? Would he have lived longer?”

“But you might not have gotten a sister out of that deal.”

“Aye, but maybe she would have been born into a better family with a mother and father who were there for her and a brother who didn’t kill for a living.”

Liddy slid her hand along Erik’s arm on the console between them. “You’ve done the best you could for Rianne.” She, of course, hadn’t helped him any, but when her time was up and she had to return to being a goddess, she’d see about what she could do for Rianne Rheagan. That was a promise.

“I did what I thought was right at the time, but being here has changed my thinking.” He glanced at her again. “About a great many things.”

Before Liddy could ask about that interesting statement, Erik made the last right turn and the entrance gates to Silver Moon loomed before them.

“Wow, those wolf sculptures are phenomenal.” Erik pointed at the twin wolf statues flanking either side of a wrought iron entrance gate.

“Jessica made them.” And the raven did some impressive work. The two wolves—ones that resembled Reardon in his wolf form—were in a sitting position, but they looked ready to come to life and give chase at any moment.

“And I thought Shawn was being prejudiced about how good she was.”

Liddy shook her head. “Nope. Each of these lasses is an incredible woman.” She’d learned that truth by watching Brandy, Nika, Emma, and Jessica love the werewolves with their whole hearts. “Intelligent, creative, patient, passionate... they are the finest people I know.”

The only people I truly know.

“They must be. It’s not easy taking on a werewolf.” Erik removed his sunglasses and leaned on his elbow, lowering his head toward Liddy. “We’re not that easy to handle.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

Erik swatted at her knee. “Hey, you’re supposed to say, ‘Oh, no, Erik. Every moment with you is an absolute delight.’” He used a high, girly voice that made Liddy laugh.

“Absolute delight?” She rolled her eyes. “Keep dreaming.”

She made a move to get out of the truck, but Erik grabbed her hand and tugged her closer, giving her no choice but to be nose-to-nose with him.

“I don’t have to dream.” He brushed his lips against hers in a soft, quick kiss. “This past week with you has been a dream come true, my lady.”

He was right. Though they hadn’t done anything overly special, every moment they were together had been exactly as Liddy had hoped it would be. While working at the marina, they stole a few minutes here and there to make out, tease each other, flirt, laugh, and generally build up the sexual tension until they could meet up at night and give into that undeniable desire that sparked between them.

It’d been the best week of her life.

But time was going too fast. She hoped being in the woods of Vermont for a long weekend would slow things down a bit. They wouldn’t have any work to cut into their time together. They could enjoy the August weather, the camaraderie of Erik’s pack and their soul mates, and each other.

“This week has been amazing,” she agreed, “but I have a feeling this weekend will be even better.”

“It’s good to have a goal, my lady.” He stole another kiss then released her hand so they could both hop out of the truck. When they met at the front of the vehicle, Erik grabbed her hand again. “We’ve been having such a wonderful time this week that I haven’t thought to ask you how you feel about what I am? I mean, I know it’s not a surprise to you because you already knew werewolves existed, but does being with one...” He studied his booted feet. “Does being with one scare you at all?”

She cupped his whiskered cheek then nudged his chin so he had to look at her. “We’ve made love every night this past week, sometimes more than once. Does it seem like I’m scared?”

Erik shook his head, but his eyes didn’t look convinced.

Liddy rose up on her toes and captured his mouth with hers for a kiss she hoped would put his mind at ease. “The only thing that scares me, my knight, is how fast I’ve fallen for you.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed her against him. “Me too.”

Liddy sunk into the hug, loving the feel of his muscled arms around her and the smell of his skin and the heat of his body. Being this close made her hyper-aware of her attraction to him. Absolutely everything about him turned her on.

“Will you show me your wolf later?” She’d wanted to give him time to process the fact that she knew what he was. She hadn’t wanted to rush him, but the clock was ticking on her human adventure and she desperately wanted to bury her fingers into his rusty red wolf fur.

A slow smile slid across Erik’s lips. “I was wondering when you’d ask me that question. You’re ready to see my beast?”

“Aye. I have a feeling you’re going to be beautiful.” As a goddess, she’d spent enough time watching him as he’d slept in wolf form to be sure of his beauty.

“Handsome,” he corrected. “I’ll be handsome.”

“Was beautiful too dainty a word for you?” She lightly slapped his chest and took a step away from him.

“Aye. Beautiful is a word for lasses.” He stole another kiss. “Beautiful is a word for you, my lady.”

Why did that warm her insides so much? It was a simple compliment, but coming from Erik, the words tattooed themselves on her soul.

Do I have a soul? she wondered.

When Gwyd didn’t offer an answer, Liddy assumed the god was making good on his word to check on Rianne. She hoped to hear from Gwyd soon. She also hoped the news was good.

Liddy tugged Erik deeper into the sanctuary, surprised that no wolves loitered about the area around the gates. From what she’d observed in the past, one could count on wolf greeters every time one set foot on the property.

I’m an animal medium. She should be able to find every wolf at this sanctuary.

Shutting her eyes, she pulled Erik to a stop. “Give me a minute.”

“What’s wrong?” His voice held notes of concern.

“Nothing. I’m trying to find the wolves.”

She reached out with her mind, as she had over and over again during the past week in Rhode Island. It amazed her how many animals needed her help, but she supposed she should be grateful that most animals didn’t just want to chat with her. She’d never have any free time if that were the case. To date, all the animals that had made contact with her had needed some form of assistance. She’d rescued a bat from the top room of the lighthouse where the beacon light lit the nighttime waters. The poor thing had gotten locked in there after Thomas had done some routine maintenance on the light itself.

The cat that had Erik’s baseball hat had gotten into a scrape with a dog and had come mewling to Liddy. Only she could understand the mewling as words. She’d called a vet when the cat told her she thought her back leg had been bitten. Sure enough, it had been.

While driving back from an adventure in Providence, they’d passed a farm and Liddy had made Erik pull onto the property. She’d gone directly to a huge barn and helped a distressed horse give birth to her first foal.

Now she connected with Brandy’s sanctuary wolves and smiled when she realized where they were.

“This way.”

She pulled Erik into a jog into the woods until they arrived at the sanctuary’s barn. The doors were open and music she recognized sifted out.

“Is that...” Erik angled his head to the side. “Is that Hendrake?”

“Aye. Emma’s band.”

Erik clamped his hand on Liddy’s shoulder before she could lead him into the barn. His hazel eyes were wide. “Wait. Emma is Emma Rhodes of Hendrake?”

“Aye. Do you like them?”

“One of my favorite things about this time is Hendrake,” he said. “I didn’t know... I had no idea... gods, Kole is with Emma Rhodes of Hendrake. Wow.”

“It’ll be Emma McMannus in October, I believe.” Liddy recalled something about Shawn and Kole deciding they’d both marry their brides at a double wedding in autumn at Deer Creek Inn, owned by Emma’s grandmother.

Brandy appeared at the doors. “You’re here! Yay!” She arrowed a thumb to the shadowy barn. “We’re starting with a little entertainment. C’mon in!”

Erik stood motionless outside the doors. “Hendrake is in there?”

Brandy laughed. “Yup. We’re in tight with the band. Come meet the rest of them.” She put her hand on Erik’s shoulder. “Emma’s band mates don’t know what we are, so act cool. You can do that, can’t you?” She shook him gently.

“He’s the definition of cool,” Liddy said, chuckling.

Erik shook himself out much like a wet dog would. “I am cool.” He wiped his palms on his shorts. “I can be cool.” He took his sunglasses off and hooked them on the neck of his T-shirt. When he ran his fingers through his hair and brushed the wrinkles out of his shorts, Liddy laughed.

“Are you primping?” she asked. “You already met Emma.”

“Aye, but she was just Kole’s soul mate then, the unfortunate lass.” He smiled. “But now? Now she’s a famous musician whose music I enjoy. It’s all different now.” He slipped by Brandy and entered the barn.

Liddy was about to follow, but Brandy stopped her.

“How was your first week?” she asked in a low voice.

Liddy wanted to gush about how wonderful it was, but something in Brandy’s expression told her that wasn’t what the good wolf doctor was asking. “He still doesn’t know who I really am.”

“Maybe it’ll come up this weekend,” Brandy said. “You know, when we’re all here as support.” She put an arm around Liddy’s shoulders. “For both of you.”

****

Erik’s eyes adjusted quickly to the dimmer light in the barn, his ears enjoying every note that echoed off the walls. Emma shot him a smile as her bow ripped across her fiddle, letting loose a burst of Celtic-infused rock. He surveyed the three men playing with her and marveled over how each of them played as if their instruments were extensions of themselves.

When the music stopped, Erik applauded and whistled. “That was amazing!”

Emma curtseyed. “Thank you. Have you—”

“Heard Hendrake before?” Erik interrupted. “Aye. Huge fan. I didn’t realize you were that Emma.”

Kole strode over. “She’s not just a pretty face. She’s got all this talent too.” He kissed her cheek then got out of the way as Emma put her fiddle down.

“Took long enough for anyone to realize the talent.” She puffed out a breath, sending her black hair stirring about her face.

“The important thing, kids, is to never give up,” a tall man with silver spiked hair said. He extended his hand to Erik. “Blaithin McShane. Nice to meet you.”

Erik shook his hand, still in awe of the company. “Erik Rheagan. Likewise.”

“That’s Flynn Callister sweating like a pig behind the drums,” Blaithin said.

“Easy there, lad,” Flynn said, swiping at his forehead with a towel Kole had tossed him. “I’d like to see you bang the shit out of these and not bust a sweat in this August heat.”

Blaithin shook his head. “I know I couldn’t do it. That’s why I picked the more civilized tin whistle and bagpipes.”

“Shut it or I’m stuffing this sweat-soaked towel under your pillow tonight.”

“Ick,” Emma said. “Don’t be gross, lads.”

“They can’t help it,” Kole said. “They’re lads, Beauty.”

“This is true. Rogues, all of them.” She hooked an arm around the final band member and pulled him over to Erik. “This is Torrin Woods, vocals and guitar.”

“And an incredible sailor,” Brandy said as she led Liddy over.

Erik shook Torrin’s hand, but most of his attention was now on Liddy’s face. Her furrowed brows and tight mouth concerned him. What had she and Brandy been discussing outside the barn? Liddy had been quiet on the drive up to Vermont, but he assumed she was tired. They hadn’t been getting much sleep this week and while that pleased him to no end, maybe she was beat. But she would say something, wouldn’t she? She’d be honest with him and say she needed to catch some shut-eye, right? Was he being selfish and only thinking of his own needs?

No. The sounds she made each night when they made love told him he’d been considering her needs too. And meeting them. She’d even initiated the lovemaking on at least half of the nights they’d been together this week.

“Every one of you lads is huge,” Torrin said, gesturing to Reardon, Jaemus, Kole, Shawn, and finally Erik. “What the hell is in the water where you guys come from?”

“And more importantly,” Blaithin said, “why wasn’t it in our water?”

“Oh, you’re all impressive in your own ways,” Emma said. “These lads may be big and burly, but they can’t carry a tune or play a note to save their lives.”

“Hey,” Jaemus called out. “You haven’t heard us on the job. We hammer with a sick beat.”

Emma laughed. “A sick beat? Do you have any idea how silly that sounds coming from you?”

Nika stood behind where Jaemus was sitting and patted the top of his blond head. “No, he doesn’t. He thinks he’s...” She wrinkled her nose. “What was it you said the other day? Wicked fresh?”

The women nearly died laughing, but Erik wasn’t sure what was so funny. Liddy didn’t seem to get it either, her face still rather serious.

“What?” Jaemus’s brows crinkled together. “I heard that on the television.”

“What the hell were you watching?” Brandy asked. “One of Dylan and Kylie’s shows?”

Jaemus shrugged. Your time didn’t come with instructions. I’m doing the best I can.

Erik’s head shot up. The mind connection between werewolves had surprised him again. He’d had so little time to get used to being a werewolf among other werewolves before being ripped away from this pack.

Jaemus shot him a wink and tapped his temple. Careful what you let run through that melon on your shoulders. We can hear it all unless you intentionally block us out. We let it go when we visited you in Rhode Island and you didn’t always remember, but it seems your feelings for Liddy have gone deeper. We can’t listen to that around the clock, lad.

A good reminder.

Aye, it is. Jaemus grinned.

But maybe he could use this werewolf perk to his benefit. He looked at Brandy, wondering if he could connect with his pack’s soul mates too.

You can, Brandy thought. But don’t ask me about what Liddy and I were talking about outside. That shit’s locked down, wolfie.

You won’t tell me?

Nope. Girl talk.

A small growl vibrated from Erik, but Brandy only winked as she grabbed a tray and offered him small bits of food he couldn’t identify.

“Pigs in a blanket,” she announced as she wiggled the tray. “A Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary favorite. I get them from an organic farm down the road. They’re legendary around these parts.”

Nika breezed by and swiped some... pigs off the tray. “They supply meat and other good stuff to the café in my trading post. I’m convinced that if times ever got tough and there was a shortage of these babies, there would be war.”

Brandy nodded and wiggled the tray again. “Try one.”

Erik picked one up and sniffed it.

Just like a wolf, Brandy said.

I always trust my nose. Erik popped the morsel into his mouth, not expecting the smoky flavor of the meat and the buttery goodness of the puff pastry surrounding it.

“Bet you don’t have anything this tasty in Rhode Island,” Reardon said, coming to steal a few for himself.

“Two words for you, Reardon, clam and cakes. Clam cakes are phenomenal,” Liddy said, smiling for the first time since coming into the barn. The sight of it calmed Erik some, but he made a mental note to ask her later if something was bothering her. This was supposed to be a fun little vacation. He wanted her to enjoy the weekend.

I also want to enjoy her.

Second warning, Erik, Shawn thought. We don’t all want to hear how much you enjoy Liddy’s... company.

Erik’s cheeks burned. Good thing Liddy couldn’t hear his thoughts. But that made him wonder. Soul mates can hear each other’s thoughts too?

Kole nodded in response then glanced at Liddy. You and Liddy can’t hear each other?

No, but she’s an animal medium, he thought. She can hear all the other animals, but not us. Guess we’re still too human.

Brandy angled her head at Liddy then stared at Reardon who had the same expression that she had.

What are you guys thinking? Erik asked after trying to find out mentally and being blocked.

Reardon flicked his gaze to Erik, seeming a little surprised Erik had caught him considering Liddy. Nothing. Maybe you two aren’t—

No, Erik interrupted. There’s no doubt we’re meant for each other. I can’t stop thinking about her. I want to be with her all the time. I’ve never felt like this about any other lass. She’s it for me.

Brandy winced then turned around quickly with the tray and offered treats to the rest of the group.

Erik wished someone would be straight with him because they were obviously thinking something. Liddy was too. She hadn’t come to stand beside him. She hadn’t touched him. She hadn’t even looked at him. They’d be discussing this later.

Mandatory.

“Who’s ready to meet some wolves?” Reardon rubbed his hands together.

“I am.” Erik raised his hand. If the people in the barn weren’t going to say what was on their minds, at least he could enjoy the quiet of a pack of real wolves.

He assumed he’d enjoy it anyway. He didn’t actually know because he’d never been around a pack of real wolves. Did they work like the wolf form werewolves took?

“Aye,” Shawn said, reading his mind. “Same basic principles.”

“C’mon,” Brandy said. “I corralled them behind the barn so you could experience the true fun of being surrounded by wolves.” She walked to the open doors at the back of the barn.

Erik followed the others, but he hung back when Liddy didn’t join them. “Hey. Are you okay, my lady?” He interlaced his fingers with hers, encouraged when she didn’t pull away.

“Of course. I think I’m tired from the drive.”

“You’d tell me if something was on your mind, aye?”

She gave him a smile. “You’re on my mind, my knight. Always.”

He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a light kiss to the back of it. “You think about me all the time?”

“Aye. I think about you too much.”

“Rubbish. You should ask Thomas to reduce your work hours so you can think about me more.” He loved that idea, although for it to truly work, he’d need Thomas to reduce his hours as well. That would never happen, especially with four new guys on the job to replace Donald and the others. Erik had spent most of this past week getting those lads up to speed. They were young and strong and took orders well. He instantly liked them. Such an improvement over Donald, Richard, Patrick, and Cory who knew quite a bit about boats, but were shit around people.

“Let’s introduce you to these wolves, aye?” She tugged him toward the door where the others had already exited.

Erik stopped short when he got a look at the collection of canines in the enclosure before him. Regal creatures, each one of them, fifteen total, all with their gazes focused on him. If they chose to attack, would he instinctively shift to defend himself? That would be bad, considering Emma’s band mates had followed them out to the enclosure. He reminded himself that he had no reason to gear up for a fight. Reardon wouldn’t have let him out here if he thought their secret would be revealed.

Taking a calming breath of warm forest air, Erik focused on a brown wolf loping over to him. It twitched its ears back and forth as it sniffed his kneecap.

“That’s Lug,” a boy with sandy hair said.

“Who are you then?” Erik asked.

“I’m Dylan.” The boy kneeled beside the brown wolf and rubbed his cheek against the wolf’s neck as if he were snuggling a mere dog. Then the lad eyed Liddy, a question in his gaze. A question that died away when Liddy shook her head.

The motion had been barely perceptible, but Erik had, without a doubt, seen it. Glancing at Emma’s band mates interacting with the wolves, he contained the growl building in his throat. It seemed everyone knew something he didn’t.

That would change as soon as he got Liddy alone. For now, he’d enjoy these beautiful wolves and the tranquil woods.

“So you’re Brandy’s boy then?” Erik asked as he held his hand out to Lug, letting the wolf sniff and lick it. Figuring the lick meant he’d been accepted, Erik crouched in front of Lug and scratched both the wolf’s ears until its eyes became mere slits.

“Yeah. And Reardon adopted me.”

“Did he now? You’re a lucky lad then.”

Dylan nodded then leaned closer to Erik. “Most kids don’t get to have a werewolf as a stepfather,” he whispered. “Or a mom, uncles, aunts, cousins, and a best friend that are too.”

“Your best friend is one?” Erik scanned the enclosure, but Emma’s band mates were laughing about something at the far end of the area.

“Yeah, Kylie. She’s with Kole and Emma now.”

“Your best friend is a lass?”

The boy’s cheeks darkened to a shade of red that had Erik laughing.

“Oh, I see.”

“But soul mates can wait for each other,” Dylan said quickly. “Me and Kylie are just friends now.”

Soul mates? The young ones already knew they were soul mates?

Aye, came Reardon’s voice in Erik’s head. But they’re not doing anything about that until Kole and I say so.

That could be a while, Erik thought with a chuckle.

A long while, Emma and Kole thought at the same time.

Erik put his hands up in a fair enough gesture and returned to petting Lug as another wolf lumbered over. One by one, all the wolves at Brandy’s sanctuary came to inspect Erik. Each one accepted him and an unexpected connection knit itself between him and these wolves.

Thomas had definitely welcomed him in Rhode Island and had been a great friend—mentor even—while he got accustomed to this time and place. Being among these real wolves and the werewolves, however, filled an empty space that had been growing cobwebs since he’d been banished from Ireland. He missed Rianne and worried about her every day, but he completely understood how the other lads had decided to stay in Vermont with their soul mates. Having each other close completed them and Erik hadn’t felt complete in quite some time.

He peeked at Liddy who had her arms around a beautiful white wolf that was significantly smaller than the others. She appeared to be listening to the creature, then she ran her hands down the sides of the wolf as she whispered something into its ear. When the wolf rested its head on Liddy’s shoulder and let out a big sigh, Erik wondered what it had unloaded. Was it possible Liddy had offered counsel that had allowed the wolf to release something that was weighing on its mind? Was that within the realm of Liddy’s animal medium abilities? Did she offer emotional support to animals as well as physical help?

The white wolf set its targets on Dylan and bounded over to him, nearly knocking the boy to the ground. Erik was about to ask the lad if he was all right, but Kole sidled up next to him.

“The small white one,” he said quietly, his gaze darting around the enclosure, “that’s our Kylie. She decided to spend this visit in wolf form.”

“She’s...” Erik started.

“Exquisite,” Emma said, poking her head between Kole’s and Erik’s shoulders. “The word you are looking for to describe our amazing daughter is exquisite.”

Erik turned to see the proud smile on Emma’s face as she watched Kylie and Dylan chase each other around the enclosure. “Aye. Exquisite. Truly. How did you find her?”

“I think she found us,” Kole said. “Soul mates don’t always mean lovers.”

Erik turned that around in his head as he found Liddy talking with Reardon now. Was it possible lovers didn’t always mean soul mates too?

Chapter Ten

Kylie and Dylan chased each other, and Liddy knew she’d chosen wisely to have Dylan be a human protector of the wolves. He had a way with them—both real and were—that made him the perfect choice. He also had many of the proper skills already from being around wolves his whole life and having a wildlife biologist for a mother. By the time he completed his actual studies, he’d have the brain and heart necessary to keep wolves safe.

The little white wolf wanted a big piece of the boy’s heart. Actually, she wanted all of it as she’d admitted to Liddy but a few moments ago. Patience wasn’t an easy thing for ones so young. Kylie had told Liddy that when she and Dylan were at school together, she had a hard time controlling her wolf when other lasses wanted Dylan’s attention. The lad was a handsome, confident child and Liddy wasn’t surprised his female classmates had noticed him, but she’d assured Kylie of her role in Dylan’s life.

“Dylan is friendly,” she’d said. “That’s part of why I chose him to be a wolf protector. He’ll get people to listen to him. He’ll organize them for the benefit of wolves. You should always be certain, however, that his heart—his soul—belongs to you. He might not be able to say it right now, but it’s true. You know it in here.” Liddy had pressed her palm to the white wolf’s furry chest, and Kylie had rested her head on Liddy’s shoulder, releasing a sigh of relief.

Is this what love is like? the little wolf had asked.

“Like containing a beast inside you that wants to get out and give into everything it wants?” Liddy had glanced at Erik, finally understanding what love was like. “Aye. I believe it is.”

It was also about sharing your whole self with someone. Being totally honest and hoping the connection you shared was enough to bridge any divide. Liddy definitely felt that connection with Erik. She had since he’d first become a werewolf and it’d only gotten stronger over this past week. Everything they’d done together had been wonderful, no matter how simple—like walking along the beach—or how elaborate—like the sunset dinner cruise they’d enjoyed in Newport. Every moment spent with Erik felt so completely right.

So she had to tell him. Who she was, when she’d be leaving, how much she loved him. He deserved to know the truth so he could decide whether he wanted to spend the next three weeks with her or stop seeing her now before they got in any deeper. Her chest physically hurt to think about not being with him, but when she had to return to being a goddess, she could remember the memories of the week they’d spent together and finally understand what it meant to love someone. She’d watched Reardon and the other werewolves find love and had wanted it so desperately for herself. Taking this chance had been right, but now it was time to let Erik choose.

“We should get going,” Blaithin said to Emma. “Flynn and I have that interview thing.”

“Right,” Emma said. “Try to make us look good.”

“Why do you think they chose us?” Blaithin waved his hands around his body then at Flynn’s. “Because we are the attractive band mates.”

Emma shoved him and he stumbled back, laughing. “You both have faces meant for radio.”

Torrin nodded through his chuckling. “Aye, ever notice how Emma and I are up front on stage and you two are in the way back.” He pointed at Flynn. “Especially him. He’s so grotesque we try to hide him behind a drum set.”

“You know,” Flynn said, folding his arms across his chest—arms that were chiseled from all that drum beating, “hanging out with you blokes isn’t worth it sometimes.”

“Oh, you know we’re only joking.” Emma slid her arms around Flynn. “I believe I read a tweet the other day that said something about Flynn Callister of Hendrake being the ‘sexiest drummer of our time.’”

“Obviously our fans are astute and appreciate all this.” He did several sexy poses, showing off his muscles and charming smile, sending everyone into fits of laughter.

“All right,” Blaithin jostled him by the shoulder. “Save it for the concerts, lad.”

The three male Hendrake members said their goodbyes and left through the barn, making Liddy’s palms sweat. Now there wasn’t anything keeping them from openly discussing the supernatural. Everyone present knew all the secrets.

Except Erik. He was down one secret. An important one.

“How about a run?” Jaemus suggested, getting up from where he’d been seated and stretching out his tall form. “Erik here hasn’t had a chance to run with our official pack of real wolves and werewolves. It’s good for clearing one’s head.”

“I’d love that.” Erik looked at Liddy, worry in his hazel eyes. “You said you were ready to see my wolf form. Is now okay?”

“Aye. I’ve seen them change.” She motioned to Reardon and the others. “The shift isn’t new to me.”

Erik nodded. “All right then. A run. Let’s do it.”

“Can I take Liddy inside to see Gram?” Dylan asked. “Because we can’t go with you.” He took Liddy’s hand, already doing his job of protector without realizing it.

“Good idea, Dylan,” Brandy said. “Meredith always likes company.”

Liddy gave Dylan’s hand a squeeze. “Thank you, lad.”

He beamed a smile up to her and the desire to stay a human exploded inside her. What would it be like to have a child of her own? One that would look at her the way Dylan was right now? One that maybe had hazel eyes and reddish-blond hair like Erik’s? Her throat stung and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She’d never know that joy.

“Let’s go to the lake,” Kole said. “A quick swim will cool us off.”

Kylie sat on Kole’s feet and gazed up at him, her tail thumping on the ground.

“What’s she saying?” Dylan asked, letting go of Liddy’s hand and approaching Kylie and Kole.

“Same thing she always says when we go for a run.” Kole stroked the fur between the white wolf’s ears.

“That she wishes I could be a wolf and run with you?” Dylan asked.

Liddy closed her eyes for a moment. It was because of her that Dylan would never be a werewolf, but some people were meant to play other roles. Dylan’s was an important one. She had to stand by that decision no matter how much longing she saw in both Dylan’s and Kylie’s eyes. They could still be soul mates when they got older. Humans and werewolves could be soul mates.

Only goddesses and werewolves couldn’t.

Kylie pushed her nose into Dylan’s hand and the boy gave her a quick pat on the head before returning to Liddy’s side.

“All right then.” Reardon pulled off his shirt and started unbuttoning his pants.

In the next few moments, a mass shedding of clothes ensued as Dylan and Liddy looked away.

Well... Dylan looked away anyway. Liddy, on the other hand, locked her eyes on Erik who did his best to add a huge dose of sexy to his striptease. Her desire for him ratcheted up into the lethal range and from the slight grin on his kissable lips, he knew exactly what he was doing to her.

She mouthed the word stop, but he prowled toward her instead.

“Go open the enclosure, lad,” he said to Dylan as he positioned the boy toward the far end of the area. He then cupped Liddy’s face in his big hands. “I hope you like my wolf form.”

“I like everything else about you,” she whispered, letting her gaze comb down the delicious length of his naked body. “Maybe more than like.”

Erik’s eyes widened. “Aye? More than like?”

She nodded, suddenly feeling embarrassed by her admission, but she needed him to know how much he meant to her. He meant enough that she’d given up goddess-level power just for a month with him.

“Maybe I more than like you too, Liddy.” He pressed a kiss to her lips then jogged off to join the rest of his friends. Watching his backside retreat reminded Liddy that the human form could be breathtaking. Some humans—like Erik—were a work of art.

With a series of growls and barks, they all shifted. A few seconds later, one large raven and nine wolves ranging in color stood in their places. While they were all impressive, Liddy’s gaze quickly picked out her favorite—a rusty red wolf with eyes the color of summer leaves spotted with amber. Erik’s wolf form radiated power and though Reardon should never have turned his men, Erik wore his fur as if he’d been born to do so.

He strode over to her and pushed his nose into her stomach, letting his cheek slide across her hip. He slithered around to her back and circled around to her front, his wolf fur soft against her legs as he moved.

Liddy took his head in her hands and scratched his jaw until a deep, contented rumble sounded in his throat. “Oh, so you don’t like this?” She laughed when he headbutted her hands, asking for more of her touch. “You’re beautiful.”

He bared his teeth. What did I say about that word?

“Handsome. Sorry, I meant handsome.”

You can hear me right now?

“Aye. You’re an animal right now.”

I see.

Was he hoping she could hear him because they’d become official soul mates? If so, he didn’t think it or was blocking her.

She dropped a kiss on his nose then nudged him toward the waiting pack. “Off you go. I’ll see you when you get back.”

He licked her hand then trotted over to the others who immediately accepted him into the fold, tousling and rubbing against him.

Liddy recognized the impact of her scattering the wolves upon banishment. It had definitely been a punishing blow. Wolves needed each other. How much would Erik hate her when he found out she’d been the one to keep him from the pack? How much would he be willing to forgive?

“Hey,” Dylan said as the wolves filed out of the enclosure and broke into a run. Within seconds, the werewolves, sanctuary wolves, and one raven were swallowed by the trees, leaving Dylan and Liddy alone.

“Aye?” She took her gaze off the woods.

“How does it feel to be a human?” he asked.

“Wonderful.”

“You’re not bored?”

“Bored? Hardly. I’ve had more fun this past week than I’ve had in my entirely too long existence.”

“How long have you lived so far?”

“I’ve lost track, lad. Time doesn’t have meaning when you’re a god or a goddess. You just are. There’s no sleeping and waking to mark the days. No sunrises and sunsets to measure time. I have a sense of time because I oversee the wild things that exist here, but I can travel through time as well.”

“That must get confusing.” Dylan shook his head. “What do you think Erik will do when he finds out who you really are?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll find out soon though. I’ve decided I need to tell him today.”

“That’s a good idea. A secret like that would eat me up inside.”

Liddy ruffled his hair. “You’re pretty wise for a young lad.”

“That’s why you picked me to guard all wolves.” He led her out the front doors of the barn and they started on the path toward Meredith’s cabin. “I should probably start guarding them now by asking you to not hurt Erik. He’s seems like a nice person, and nice people shouldn’t be lied to.”

“He is a nice person. Best person I know.” Would Erik think she was a nice person after she told him who she was? Or would he want nothing to do with her?

He’d said he more than liked her. Perhaps his feelings for her would be strong enough to overcome the revelation she would make at some point today. It couldn’t wait another day. Brandy had been right. Best to tell him while he was in the company of people who genuinely cared for him.

She hoped he’d still want her company.

Dylan opened the front door of Meredith’s cabin. “Gram? I brought a visitor.”

“I’m in the living room,” Meredith called.

Liddy had been in Brandy’s mother’s presence before, but when the woman looked up from the pile of photographs she had spread out on the floor in front of her, Liddy knew Meredith didn’t recognize her.

“Who do we have here?” Meredith asked, setting down a pair of scissors.

“You don’t know who this is?” Dylan asked, his brows furrowing.

Meredith angled her head at Liddy then glanced at Dylan. “Should I?” She looked a little worried about her inability to identify Liddy.

“My form is different,” Liddy said to Dylan.

“Yeah, I know, but I knew who you were right away.”

“Because Brandy and Reardon told you I was coming, aye?”

Dylan shook his head. “No. When I look at you and close my eyes, your other form pops right into my mind.” He snapped his fingers to illustrate how fast this happened for him.

“Hmm. Maybe because of the duties I’ve given you, you are able to recognize me.”

Satisfied with that possibility, Dylan turned back to his grandmother. “Gram, this is Flidae, but she’s a human right now and call her Liddy. Don’t let on that you know she’s Flidae either. Erik doesn’t know yet.”

Meredith got up from her seat on the floor, scraps of paper dropping from her lap. “Ah, yes. Brandy said you and the last wolf would be visiting this weekend. I guess I expected you to look more... former goddess.” Meredith brushed at a few more scraps stuck to her T-shirt, her face paling a bit. “Was that an insult to say that? I mean, you’re beautiful and everything and... oh, God, please don’t turn me into an animal.”

Liddy held up a hand. “It’s okay, Meredith. I don’t have any goddess powers right now. Nothing. And I wouldn’t turn you into an animal. It’s because of you and your daughter that I’ve found my wolf protector here.” She squeezed Dylan’s shoulder. “I am in your debt.”

“I suppose that’s a good position for me to be in—having a goddess in my debt. We’ll remember this when you have your powers back?”

“We will.” Liddy gestured to the mess on the floor. “What’s this all about?”

“I’m making a few scrapbooks to help with the school group classes we run at the sanctuary.”

“Can we help?” Dylan asked, kneeling on the floor and sorting through the pictures.

“I’d love some help. It seemed like a great idea until I printed out too many pictures to count.” Meredith took up a position beside her grandson and started explaining what to do.

Liddy lowered to the floor opposite them, watching them interact for a few minutes, reveling in the intimacies of human relationships. Perhaps if the gods and goddesses all had a chance to be human for a time, they wouldn’t be so harsh in the punishments they doled out to those they oversaw.

When Reardon had changed his human men into werewolves, she’d been so furious at them using wolves as killers. She’d also been required to do something to keep them from being more severely punished by those above her. Banishment had seemed the merciful thing to do at the time, but if she’d known how close the men were to each other, if she’d known Erik had a sister depending on him, if she’d understood that Reardon had been trying to save his men’s lives, she might not have been as brutal in her judgment. She might have shown some compassion. Gods, she’d nearly made Brandy put a sword through Reardon. Fortunately, the lass’s love for Reardon had overcome all.

Liddy took some comfort in the fact that her punishment had resulted in four out of the five wolves finding their soul mates. They were happy now, happier than she’d seen them in Ireland of the past. Happier than they’d been as hired warriors.

But what kind of happiness would Erik find and was she getting in the way of that?

****

Erik swam away as Shawn and Kole pursued him in the lake. He’d been pulled under, splashed, drank more lake than he should have, and become so waterlogged he could barely keep afloat anymore. It’d been the best afternoon. He’d been afforded such little time among the werewolves before banishment that he hadn’t realized how much he needed them. Living with Thomas at the lighthouse had been fine, but this... well, nothing compared to this feeling of belonging.

A giant brown paw landed on his rump, but he managed to paddle away before getting caught. The cool lake water felt so good after the run they’d taken through the woods. Erik hadn’t spent much time in wolf form in Rhode Island. He’d done his best to hide that side of him so as to blend in and not cause any problems for himself. It hadn’t been easy because his wolf was always right there, waiting and ready, and he liked being in wolf form.

Staying human had been a particular challenge since meeting Liddy. Every time he made love to her, something wolfish happened. A show of claws, an extension of fangs, a wolf growl right before an orgasm. She brought out the feral side of him, and though she didn’t seem to mind, he worried about hurting her. What if he became too caught up in the moment and lashed out at her? What if he couldn’t rein in his beast?

What if he killed her?

He shook his head, sending a spray of water all around as he climbed out of the lake and rested on the bank. He’d mostly forgiven himself for all the killing he’d done on the battlefield. That had been his way of life in Ireland. In the past. He’d only been doing his job and doing it well. Battles such as the ones he’d taken part in were necessary between kings.

But the killing he’d done here in this time, in this place? That could not be forgiven.

He’d been with Thomas, living at the lighthouse and working at the marina, for about three days when he’d gone to the small grocery store to pick up a few things. He’d been in awe of how easy it was to get provisions in this time. A simple exchange of coin and a man could have all he required.

While at the store, he’d recognized the smell of whiskey on another patron. It had made him a wee bit homesick, but when he’d seen the way the man stumbled down the aisles, he’d been disgusted at the public display of inebriation. Erik liked his whiskey—no doubt about that—but he also knew when he’d had enough and it was time to stay home to sleep it off. This lad had clearly not understood that he shouldn’t be out.

Erik had kept an eye on the man as he waited in line behind a young lass at the checkout desk. As he’d made his purchases, the man exited the store after the lass did. Quickly throwing the fee for his provisions to the clerk, Erik had gathered everything and had bolted outside to find the man and the lass around the corner of the building. The man was pressing the lass against the brick exterior, his hands roaming everywhere as the lass beat her small fists into the lad’s shoulders.

“Get off me!” she’d screamed. “Get the fuck off me!”

That had been all Erik had to see and hear. He’d dropped his purchases and marched over to the man and lass.

“Get off her,” he’d growled, far too angry to keep his wolf at bay.

The lad had risked a glance over his shoulder at Erik. “This doesn’t concern you, asshole.”

He’d known the word asshole was derogatory because Donald and Patrick had already called him that several times. Hearing it then had been like a call to battle in his brain. His claws had exploded from his fingers, his teeth had elongated, and before he could stop himself, he’d shifted to wolfman. He’d towered over the man and the lass, both with their backs flat to the building behind them, their eyes wide, their lips trembling.

The woman had clenched her chest, her mouth frozen in an O shape as she fell to the ground in a heap. The man had begged for his life, but Erik had been beyond reason at that point. He’d slashed his claws along the lad’s throat, ending him in a spray of blood within mere moments.

He’d checked the woman, thinking at first she’d only passed out, but she’d been dead. Most likely he’d startled her beyond what her heart could take. A simple trip to the grocery store had resulted in two deaths and confirmation that Erik was, in fact, a true monster, not able to control himself around people.

He’d shifted back to human, stolen the man’s clothes because his had been shredded with the change, and had dragged the bodies off, hoping no one would miss either person. He’d avoided Thomas when he’d returned to the lighthouse, curling up into a ball in his own rooms instead, lamenting what he was and what he’d done. Flidae had visited him and had... offered comfort. It had been unexpected, but welcomed. She’d pointed out that he’d been trying to rescue the lass, that his intentions had been good.

From that day forward, however, he’d been so careful to control his wolf, basically only shifting at night to go for a run or when in his rooms at the lighthouse in order to release the tension that sometimes built up inside him. Thomas always knocked before visiting, giving him ample time to shift back to human. Erik refused to let his wolf kill anyone else, regardless of his motives. It’d been hard to keep his wolf in check around Donald and the other lads at the marina, so he’d avoided them as much as possible. When he’d seen them hassling Liddy, though, his wolf had wanted out. Fortunately, he’d been able to keep it civilized, get Liddy out of there, and no one had died.

But now that he’d spent this time with the rest of the pack, how much would his wolf want to come out? Could he continue to be around all these people—around Liddy—and still keep his wolf under control?

So many questions. Shawn had climbed out of the water and had taken up lounging beside him, his brown fur still matted with water.

Gods, Erik hadn’t wanted them all to know he’d killed in this time.

Aye, but no one will judge you here, friend. Not one of us can claim to not be a killer, now can we? Shawn poked Erik with his nose. Before Kole found me, I was beating the shit out of men in a fighting club. I’d beat them within inches of their life, Erik. Stopped at the point to keep them alive, but one more punch would have killed them. I’m not proud of it, but it was the only life I knew, the only thing I thought I was good at. We’re monsters playing at being men now. We’re doing the best we can. Letting the wolf out with us is good. It actually helps with control because you’ve given the wolf a chance to breathe.

Shawn’s advice helped some, but Erik still worried about hurting Liddy.

I don’t think you have to worry about hurting her, Shawn thought.

Why not? She’s the most fragile of us all. We’re werewolves as are Emma, Brandy, and Nika, and Jessica is a raven shifter. We all have ways to defend ourselves. What does Liddy have as a regular human?

Shawn’s gray-blue wolf eyes scanned the others still in the water—the others who had grown strangely still in their play. Don’t underestimate humans, Erik. They have a tendency to... surprise.

Erik turned that around in his head as everyone got out of the water and shook themselves off.

I’m hungry, Jaemus thought before he licked Nika’s ear, causing her to nip at him playfully.

Aye, Reardon agreed. Let’s head back and feast.

Feast? Brandy let out a snort. Sounding a bit Celtic warrior there, aren’t we?

Can’t help it, Reardon thought. I’ve got all my closest men together again. I feel as if I should give out orders.

Don’t feel that way. Jaemus headbutted his brother. It’s the weekend. Save your bossing around for the work week.

The two giant wolves wrestled briefly before leading the rest of them to the trail back to the barn. Everyone shifted back to human and dressed.

“Shawn is right,” Reardon said, clamping a hand on Erik’s shoulder. “Liddy is much stronger than you know.”

“I suppose anyone who doesn’t freak out over what we are has to be strong, aye?”

Reardon hesitated then nodded. “Aye.”

“I sense barbecued meats in our near future,” Brandy announced. “Who’s in?”

Several ayes rose from the group, Erik included.

“This way then.” Brandy led them to a deck at the back of what Erik assumed was her and Reardon’s cabin. “Make yourselves comfortable and we’ll bring out some drinks.” She tugged Reardon along behind her toward the house, forgetting to block her thoughts from the others. You’d better make out with me when we get inside.

Erik caught Jaemus rolling his eyes and pretending to gag, but Nika swatted his shoulder and leaned against him.

“Behave,” she whispered.

“I always behave, sprite,” Jaemus said, pulling her closer, kissing her forehead, and resting a hand on her belly that wasn’t showing any signs of pregnancy just yet.

“Yeah, behave badly.”

Jaemus wrapped his arms around Nika. “But you can’t get enough of me.”

“Pathetic, aren’t I?”

“It’s not your fault you can’t resist me. There’s nothing you can do really.”

Erik suddenly missed Liddy. “Brandy,” he called. “May I look for Liddy?”

“Of course. My mother lives in the cabin next door. Tell them all to come over here.”

He nodded, starting toward Meredith’s cabin, but an angel of a little girl stopped him before he could get too far.

“I’m Kylie,” she said, her blonde hair bouncing with curls.

“Aye, Dylan’s best friend, right?” Erik kept walking and Kylie fell into step beside him, her cheeks the same shade of red he’d seen on Dylan’s face.

“For right now, we’re best friends,” Kylie said, “but someday we’ll be soul mates.”

“You both are sure of that.”

“What’s not to be sure about?” The girl’s shoulders rose then fell. “I won’t ever have the feelings I have right now for anyone else. How could I? I liked Dylan before I had my first shift and before Flidae picked him as a protector. I only like him more now.”

“And what is it you like about him?” Erik was fascinated by the lass’s certainty that she and Dylan would end up together. How could someone so young be so sure?

Kylie puffed out a slow breath then grinned. “I like how much fun he is. He’s creative and smart and kind and doesn’t give up and is brave.” With each compliment she said, her cheeks got a little redder, making her all the more adorable.

“Well, when you put it that way, Dylan sounds like an incredible young lad.”

“He is. The incrediblest!”

Kylie bounded ahead of Erik and leaped up the back deck stairs of Meredith’s cabin. She opened the door, holding it for Erik. He felt a little odd entering, but Kylie assured him it was perfectly okay to just enter Meredith’s.

“She’s literally always ready for company. Always.”

They found Meredith, Dylan, and Liddy in the living room with pictures scattered about the floor in all directions. As soon as they set foot in the room, Dylan and Liddy looked up as if they’d sensed their arrival.

See, Kylie thought, surprising Erik that one so young could also communicate with thoughts. Soul mates are always aware of each other.

Did that mean Liddy was definitely his soul mate then? Erik wished he could be as sure as Kylie and Dylan appeared to be.

Great. Now I’m envious of children.

“Hey, I’m almost a teenager,” Kylie said, glaring at him.

Erik raised his hands in surrender. “My apologies, lass.”

With a curt nod, Kylie kneeled beside Dylan. “What are you guys doing?”

Dylan launched into an explanation of making scrapbooks or something. Erik tuned him out in favor of gazing at Liddy who looked as if she belonged sitting among the chil... ah, almost teenagers. She tossed a sweet smile up to him then got to her feet.

“Have a nice run?” she asked, raking her fingers through his still wet hair. “Oh, did you swim too?”

“Aye. There’s a beautiful lake in the woods.”

“Right. I’ve seen it. It’s nice here, isn’t it?”

“Too nice.”

“What’s that mean?”

Erik encircled her waist with his arms. “It means I don’t know how I can ever return to Ireland when the pack is here in this time. When New England has both seashore and woods to offer a wolf.” He tightened his hold on her. “When you’re here.”

“What about your sister?” Liddy asked, her voice barely above a whisper as if she were afraid to hear his answer.

“Maybe I can do something worthy, go back to see her to explain what happened, and if she’s all right, perhaps I can come back here. To be with the pack... and you.” He held his breath as different emotions played out on her face. He saw joy there. Definitely. She wanted to be with him too. But he also saw doubt and regret and sadness. “What are you thinking, my lady?”

She met his gaze, her blue eyes big and fathomless. They were like the ocean, capable of drowning him if he let them. “I’m thinking I have to tell you something. Now. It can’t wait.”

Liddy took his hand, but before she could lead him out of Meredith’s home, Erik’s cell phone chirped in his pocket. He fished it out and swiped the screen.

“Rhode Island Hospital?” Alarm coursed through his veins. “Hello?”

“Mr. Rheagan? Is this Mr. Erik Rheagan?” an official-sounding female voice asked.

“Aye, it is.”

“We have a Mr. Thomas White here under our care.”

“Gods, what happened?”

“There was a fire at his home. He managed to get out of the building before it burned down, but we believe he fell down the stairs. He’s in a coma presently and—”

Erik didn’t hear much of the rest of that report as his mind whirled with how a fire could have started at the lighthouse. Then he heard the words arson and foul play.

“Wait,” he said. “Someone started the fire?”

“That’s the current theory,” the caller said. “The police are investigating and actually they mentioned wanting to speak to you about possible suspects if you have any ideas.”

He had ideas all right. His fangs slid out beyond his lips until Liddy touched his arm and he locked his gaze with hers. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Disconnecting the call, he jammed the phone into his pocket, his wolf begging to rip through his skin.

“Erik.” Liddy rubbed her hands up and down his arms. “What’s happened?”

“Thomas... he’s been hurt. A fire. At the lighthouse.”

“Let’s go.” The fact that she was willing to be by his side settled his wolf. He wasn’t alone.

Maybe he never had to be again.

Chapter Eleven

Liddy’s right leg bounced as she sat in the waiting room of Rhode Island Hospital. Erik had driven like a madman from Vermont and they’d made it back in record—although terrifying—time. Sure, his reflexes were better than the average human, but still, she’d had visions of their deaths during the entire trip.

Which made her wonder if she did die while in human form, was that it for her?

Only one way to find out, Gwyd said.

She’d rather not experiment with that one. It was more fun to experiment with the physical pleasures she was enjoying with Erik.

But it’s so much more than physical pleasures. She’d fallen completely in love with him. And he’d told her at Meredith’s that he wanted to stay in this time.

With me.

But she wouldn’t be here much longer. She knocked the back of her head against the wall behind her chair. She’d been about to tell him everything—who she really was, how long she had here, how much she loved him—but one phone call had put all that on pause. How could she unload her secrets on Erik now that he was worried about Thomas? She couldn’t. She had to let him focus on his friend, a man who had shown him great kindness in his time of need.

A time of need she’d created.

“This is a mess.” She sifted out a slow breath and wished she could have gone in with Erik to see Thomas, but she wasn’t family. Neither was Erik, but apparently he was the closest thing to family Thomas had and was listed as the man’s emergency contact. She’d promised Erik she wouldn’t leave, but now she wasn’t so sure she should stay.

Wouldn’t it be better if she disappeared? How could she have done this to Erik? Make him fall for her enough that he didn’t want to return to Ireland for good? Make him leave his sister? Make him invest himself in her only to learn she wasn’t allowed to stay?

She was a horrible human. Selfish. Erik deserved to find someone like Brandy, Nika, Emma, and Jessica. A nice lass who could love him for the rest of his life. Not someone who lied to him, who pretended to be something she wasn’t just so she could experience love. Someone so self-centered.

And had she really thought this time as a human would get Erik out of her system? That she could love him for a month and then go back to being a goddess who had no one?

Foolish.

She shot to her feet and marched toward the waiting room doors. She’d go now and save Erik an even bigger heartache.

“Where are you going?” And just like that, his voice pulled her back.

She turned to face him, which was a mistake because one look at him all worried and disheveled had her taking the steps toward him to hold him. “I was going to get a drink.”

More lies.

He cuddled into her, his body warm, but for the first time, he seemed small to her. As if someone had taken the fight out of him.

“How is Thomas?” she asked, rubbing her hands along his back.

He exhaled a shuddery breath that broke her heart then took a step out of her embrace. Raking a hand through his hair, he said, “He’s still not awake. The doctor doesn’t know how long it will be until he wakes up... if he wakes up.” His hazel eyes grew glossy, but he cleared his throat and shook his head as if chastising himself for getting upset. “His leg is broken, the one that most bothered him with arthritis. It probably buckled while he was trying to get out of the lighthouse and escape the fire.”

“Did you talk to the police?”

Two officers had come into the waiting room and questioned her, but she hadn’t had much to say beyond mentioning the workers Thomas had fired on her account.

“Aye. They’re going to question Patrick, Donald, Cory, and Richard.” His hands curled into fists at his sides. “It had to be them. No one else would do anything to hurt Thomas. Everybody loves him.”

“That was my thinking as well.”

“I want to go see the lighthouse.” This was said through clenched teeth and Liddy could tell Erik’s wolf was banging around in its flimsy cage.

“Let’s go.” The sooner she got him out of there, the better.

He walked beside her, angry energy crackling around him. When they climbed into the truck, Erik fingered the anchor keychain hanging from the rearview mirror.

“Thomas has to be all right,” he said, his voice tight and raspy. “He took me in, gave me a job, showed me how things work in this time.”

“He fired those jerks because of me,” Liddy said. “He’s a knight as well.” She rested her hand on Erik’s forearm.

“Aye, he is.” He squeezed the anchor before releasing it so it swung like a nautical pendulum. “Normally, I would have been there at the lighthouse with him. I probably would have heard them starting the fire. I would have sensed them, smelled them before they realized it. I could have...” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I should have been there for Thomas.”

“You had no way of knowing that leaving him wouldn’t be safe,” Liddy said.

“Didn’t I? What made me think Donald and the rest of them would just let getting fired from the marina go? They’d been there for a long time. They’d depended on those jobs.”

“They took advantage of Thomas and weren’t nice to the marina’s customers or you. They deserved to be fired.” Liddy couldn’t let Erik blame himself for what happened.

“But Thomas didn’t deserve to end up in the hospital in a fucking coma.”

That was the first time Erik had used such language around her. It sounded strange coming from him, but she understood how upset he was.

Without another word, he jammed the key into the ignition and started the truck. The ride to the marina was slow and quiet. She couldn’t find the right words to console Erik, especially when the things she had to tell him wanted to spill out instead.

Now is not the time to tell him. Not while he was feeling so furious and... guilty.

When he parked the truck in the marina lot and they got their first view of the destroyed lighthouse, a strangled groan squeezed out of Erik.

Liddy reached over to touch him, but he’d already opened the door and begun sliding out of the truck. She hopped out of the passenger side and jogged around to meet him at the front of the vehicle.

But she didn’t touch him. Claws were clearly visible at the ends of his fingertips and rusty red fur covered the backs of his hands and forearms. His fangs slid past his lower lip and his breathing became ragged as his eyes glowed amber green.

Liddy searched the lighthouse area, cordoned off by yellow caution tape snapping in the sea breeze. Police and fire officials milled about.

“Erik.” She did clamp her hand onto his arm now. “Erik, you have to stay human. There are people over there. Maybe we should come back later.”

His bright hazel gaze slid to the lighthouse then his eyes squeezed shut. In a few seconds, his claws and fangs retracted, his fur disappeared, his breathing evened out, and his eyes no longer glowed. “I’m okay. I can do this. I have to do this.”

He grabbed her hand and led them to the lighthouse. What remained of it anyway, which wasn’t much more than a blackened stone carcass. Enough sunlight was left to illuminate the destruction and reveal that nothing inside was salvageable.

“All of Thomas’s stuff...” Erik’s hold on Liddy tightened and she worried he was about to shift again, but he didn’t. “He’s got nothing left.”

Just like Erik not to worry about his stuff. His home had been destroyed too, and yet, he was only worried about Thomas.

A true knight.

“He’s got the marina,” Liddy pointed out. “His business is still okay.”

Erik nodded, accepting that one kernel of hope as he ducked under the caution tape and sifted through some of the rubble with his boot tip.

“Hey, you two can’t be here. This is a possible arson scene and an active investigation,” an officer announced.

“I live here with Thomas,” Erik said.

The officer’s face softened. “Oh, sorry. You must be...” he consulted his phone in his hand, “Erik Rheagan then?”

“Aye. Find any clues leading to the men Thomas fired recently?”

“Not here, no,” the officer said. “But sometimes with arson, we find the evidence we’re looking for on the perps or at their residences, in their vehicles, that sort of thing.” He gestured to the charred lighthouse skeleton. “It takes a pretty big fire to take down one of these old girls, so the perps could have used chemicals we can trace. We’ll get these douchebags.”

Erik and the officer shook hands. “Thank you.”

“Just doing our jobs. I still have to ask you not to touch anything though until we’ve cleared this site,” the officer said.

“No problem.” Erik craned his head back, looking where his rooms used to be. “Probably nothing of value to pull from the wreckage anyway. It’s a total loss.”

The officer nodded. “Sadly, you’re right. While the outside is stone, the insides of this lighthouse had a great deal of wood so that burned easily.” He glanced at Liddy then back to Erik. “You have a place to stay, man?”

“Aye, he does,” Liddy said. “My boat is docked here.”

Erik gave her a nod, but his face didn’t hold the warmth it normally did when he looked at her.

“Very good then.” The officer gave them a brief salute and went back to his work.

Erik stood quietly in front of the ruins and Liddy wasn’t sure what to do. Gods, she missed being able to read his thoughts. If she only knew what was going on in there...

“You should go.” His voice surprised her.

“What?”

“Go. You should go.” He turned to face her, his gaze blank. “I have some things I need to do.”

“I can help you.” She didn’t want to leave him alone right now. He wasn’t stable.

“No. You can’t help me. Not with what I’m about to do, Liddy.” Again, his hands fisted at his sides. “Go.”

That one word, issued as a command, sliced into her chest. “I will not go. Whatever you are thinking of doing, don’t.”

“Liddy, I must do this.” He clamped his hands on her biceps, his hold tight and rough. “I can’t let them get away with what they’ve done, what they’ve taken from Thomas.”

“They won’t get away with it,” Liddy said, certain her flesh would bruise where Erik’s hands were. “You heard the police. They’ll find the evidence they need on those lads. They’ll pay for this.” She motioned to the lighthouse rubble with her chin. “Justice will be served.”

“But how long will it take? Thomas could be...” Erik squeezed his eyes shut. “Thomas could be gone before the police gather the evidence. Donald and the others could flee. I might never have an opportunity to make them atone for this.”

“And is that what you’re going to do, Erik? Make them atone?” Liddy jerked out of his hold now. “Or are you resorting to an ancient warrior mentality where every act of war must be met with another act of war, on and on, until no one really wins?” Hadn’t she watched this exact scenario play out among humans throughout time? Did no one understand how peace was achieved?

“How can I stand by and do nothing?” His words were laced with growls now, his control slipping faster by the moment. “They destroyed Thomas’s home. He’s fighting for his life because of them, because of you.”

The accusation slammed into her, making Liddy physically stumble backward a few steps.

Because he isn’t wrong...

Thomas fired those lads because they’d been hassling her. There had been other reasons why they had to go, but the inciting event had been her.

“I... I’m...” She couldn’t come up with a single thing to say that would absolve her of the blame Erik had tossed at her. “You’re right. I never should have come.”

She turned and ran, Erik’s voice carrying on the breeze to her.

“Liddy, wait! I didn’t... I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said that!”

Her legs wouldn’t allow her to change direction. It’d been a mistake to take Gwyd’s offer. Goddesses didn’t belong here among humans. They could play with humans’ lives, but they couldn’t live them. She’d only wanted to love Erik and instead she’d hurt a human who meant so much to him. She’d been planning to hurt Erik too by revealing who she was and that she couldn’t stay.

It doesn’t matter now. He didn’t want her to stay. If he had, he could have easily caught up to her with his enhanced speed, and he hadn’t.

She didn’t look back. Instead she ran to her boat, fired up the motor, untied from the dock, and powered out of the slip into the bay. The sunset was gorgeous tonight, pinks, oranges, and purples smearing the darkening sky and wavering on the water’s surface. The distortion of the sunset on the water made Liddy think of dreams coming apart, no longer having enough hope to hold them together. Her dream of being Erik’s soul mate was torn to shreds. It had never been a possible dream anyway.

The worst part was her heart had believed.

****

Erik watched the mast of Wild Thing as the boat slid out of the marina and into the growing darkness. He should have gone after Liddy, but he wasn’t fit to be around her right now. Maybe he’d never be fit.

For her.

For anyone.

Reardon and the others had found their soul mates and from everything Erik had witnessed today, they were perfect matches. Even Dylan and Kylie, so young, but so connected, so... destined. He’d felt that way about Liddy, but what could he offer her? Reardon and the other lads appeared to have their wolves under control far more than he did. Maybe it was because of what Shawn had said—that being around the pack and shifting to run and romp regularly in the woods as wolves kept the beasts at bay—but he had responsibilities here in Rhode Island.

And in Ireland.

He couldn’t dismiss his sister. She was his only family and she needed him, like Thomas needed him. If he hadn’t been so selfishly wrapped up in what he wanted, what he desired, Thomas wouldn’t have gotten hurt tonight. They wouldn’t have lost their home either.

I was right to send her away. It was the best thing for everyone. Avenging Thomas could quite possibly be his something worthy and then he’d gain a trip back to his Ireland, to Rianne, to the life he’d already had in progress before Reardon turned him into a monster.

Monsters didn’t get to have it all. Although the other members of the pack appeared to have found it all, Erik was certain he wasn’t meant to. This past week had been a trick. He’d been happier than he’d ever been in his life, but it wasn’t real. Liddy wouldn’t be able to pledge herself to him no matter how accepting she’d seemed. It wouldn’t be fair to ask her to be his. Not when he planned to unleash his fury on Donald and the other lads.

With a last glance at Liddy’s boat as it cut noiselessly through the water, Erik turned and walked away from the smoky remains of the lighthouse. He stopped into the marina’s steel building and grabbed a length of pipe which was the closest thing to a sword he could find. Those lads would never see him coming.

He tried each of their homes first, but none of their vehicles had been in their driveways. They were hiding out somewhere together which confirmed their guilt in Erik’s mind. You only hid if you believed you were being hunted.

And wolves loved a hunt.

Erik gripped the steering wheel of the truck tightly until his knuckles glowed white in the streetlight beam slicing through the windshield. Think. Where would those bastards gather to celebrate the successful destruction of the lighthouse? Closing his eyes, he pushed thoughts of Liddy and the pack from his mind, cleared his brain of everything except finding those bastards.

At first his head was totally empty, aside from the rage building to dangerous levels the more he pictured any one of those lads lighting the spark that had ravaged the lighthouse. After a few moments, however, the blurry edges of a vision solidified behind his eyelids. The high chain-link fence. The broken down shack. The rusty water tower. He knew that place, about ten minutes from Patrick’s street where Erik now was.

They’d no doubt collected there to ditch any supplies they may have used, to gloat in their success, to revel in paying Thomas back for firing them, to applaud that they destroyed where Erik lived as well.

Well, he’d take great pleasure in crashing their celebration.

Erik took the truck back to the marina then ran on foot with the length of pipe in his grip to the one lane dirt road that led to the abandoned water tower. When he was three-fourths of the way to the tower, he shifted to almost full wolfman, leaving him human enough to still talk and easily use his hands. He anticipated the fear he’d see on the lads’ faces when he pounced on them. He knew Reardon and the others wouldn’t approve of what he was about to do.

He knew Flidae wouldn’t either, but where had she been anyway? Had she seen him with Liddy and stopped checking in on him? Had she been upset that he’d been with Liddy? If she had been, wouldn’t she have punished him in some way? Didn’t she have the power to do just that?

He couldn’t worry about where Flidae was or what she would do. If he’d angered her—or was about to—he couldn’t help it. Thomas needed him to do this. He needed to do this.

Good thing I sent Liddy away. She was worthy of so much more than he could give her. That revelation hurt him, but the truth of it was rock solid. He was an animal with selfish desires and little control over himself.

He neared what he believed to be the glow of several flashlights and listened to whispered conversation.

“How long do we need to stay here?” Richard asked.

“Another few minutes, then we’ll get on to the actual camping trip we told our families we’d be on this weekend.” Donald rumbled with laughter and the others joined in.

“Never underestimate the power of a good campfire,” Patrick said, eliciting more laughter.

“The geezer got what was coming to him,” Cory said. “Thinks he can fire us and get away with it. Moron.”

“Too bad Rheagan wasn’t at home though,” Donald said. “Would have been nice to get Thomas and his favorite employee to run out of that burning lighthouse.”

“Can’t we plan a little something for Potato?” Patrick asked. “I mean, this all went according to our design. Why couldn’t we initiate a Phase 2, if you will?”

Donald jostled Patrick by the shoulder. “Excellent thinking, Patty. What’s stopping us?”

“Me.” Erik growled and leaped out of the shadows to land in the middle of their circle, brandishing the pipe like the sword he wished he had. Flashlight beams nearly blinded him, but he managed to keep his gaze focused on his prey.

“What the hell...” Cory’s flashlight thumped to the ground as he backed away from Erik.

“Fuck...” Richard held his hands up as if to defend himself.

As if you could defend yourself, Erik thought before baring his wolfman teeth, advancing on Richard and swinging the pipe so it caught Richard square on the shoulders, a horrifying bone crunch echoing through the night.

The man crumpled to the ground, howling in pain, and Erik whirled around to face the other three.

“Who’s next?” he snarled.

Donald approached, his hands held up. “What are you? What do you want?”

“Retribution,” Erik said around his elongated teeth. “For what you did to Thomas and the lighthouse.”

“You have no proof that we did anything,” Patrick said, sidling up next to Donald, no doubt trying to present a united front.

Erik could give a fuck about a united front. “I have the conversation you all just had as proof.” He held up his cell phone in one large wolfman hand and clumsily thumbed the screen. The lads’ voices filled the area.

“Would have been nice to get Thomas and his favorite employee to run out of that burning lighthouse.”

“Can’t we plan a little something for Potato? I mean, this all went according to our design. Why couldn’t we initiate a Phase 2, if you will?”

All four of them had the good sense to look horrified.

“The good news is,” Erik said, his words slightly garbled around his snout, “you don’t have to worry about being arrested and a court trial and jail time. I’m issuing my own conviction and punishment. Right. Now.”

Dropping the pipe, he launched at Patrick, but Cory and Donald jumped into the fray at the same time, pounding on Erik’s back. He shook them off easily, slammed his clawed hand into Patrick’s face and dropped the man as he turned to face the others.

Richard had gotten to his feet, but as far as Erik could tell, the lad couldn’t stand all the way, letting Erik know he’d broken something in the man. That shouldn’t have pleased him, but he was beyond feeling anything humane for these men. They deserved whatever he dished out to them tonight.

In lightning quick moves, Erik grabbed both Cory and Donald and threw them around like rag dolls. He picked up the pipe, preparing to bash them all into an unrecognizable pulp, but a hazy blue fog caught his attention. It crawled along the ground, encircling his legs and passing him. He’d thought he’d imagined it, but when it rose up and a bearded man emerged from it, he knew it was real.

“Stop this, wolf.” The man’s voice was deep and full of authority.

Erik growled. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“You do not tell me what concerns me and what doesn’t.” The man raised his arm, the folds of this cloak billowing in a breeze that appeared to originate from the man himself. With the wave of his arm, the pipe flew out of Erik’s grasp and clanged to the ground. “I’m stopping you before you do something you regret, wolf. Something you can’t take back.”

“I won’t want to take it back. These fools have this coming to them.”

“It’s not for you to decide. Besides, the laws of this place will bring justice without you using your wolf to kill again.”

Those last two words—kill again—echoed in Erik’s mind. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t kill again. He’d promised not to use his wolf in precisely the way that had ripped him from his home and his sister.

But he had to help Thomas.

“How does this help your human friend?” the man asked. “Does it bring him back to consciousness? No. Does it bring back his home? No. It only serves you and your rage. You are more than this. You have seen what a creature like you can have. You’ve seen it with your pack members.” The man stroked his red beard as he angled his head at Erik. “You’ve seen it with Liddy. Tell me you haven’t.”

“Who are you?” Erik knew the man wasn’t a man. He was a god, but which one and why did he care what Erik did?

“I am Gwyd, god of enchantment.” He bowed slightly then looked at the lads in various stages of hurt, moaning on the ground. He waved his arm again and the lads’ bodies became rigid. They floated to two nearby trees where ropes appeared out of nowhere to wrap securely around them, binding them to the trees. He settled his gaze back on Erik. “Come with me.”

Erik was about to protest, but Gwyd shook his head.

“That was not a request, wolf.”

Gwyd turned and started for the dirt road, while Erik felt as if an invisible rope tethered him to the god. His feet moved of their own accord and with each step away from Donald and the others, his anger abated.

“Shift,” Gwyd ordered without turning around.

Erik’s wolfman form immediately receded, leaving him in torn shorts and exhausted as he followed Gwyd. His head throbbed and his muscles ached, but he kept moving.

Finally Gwyd stopped when they’d walked about a mile from the water tower. When Gwyd faced Erik, he shook his head. “You’ve been reduced to a man who skulks about nearly naked in the dark.”

A growl slid from Erik’s throat, but Gwyd gave him a dismissive wave.

“Put those on.” Gwyd gestured to the pile of clothes now at Erik’s feet.

Erik picked them up, shocked to see they were, in fact, his own clothes.

“I’m full of surprises, wolf,” Gwyd said. “Now I’ve put it in the police officers’ minds to come to the water tower and I’ve sent your conversation recording to them. Let’s not be here when they arrive.”

The blue haze appeared again and Erik found himself transported back to the marina, standing right next to the truck.

“That’s better.” Gwyd smoothed the folds of the cloak he wore then frowned. “I suppose this attire won’t do if I don’t want to attract attention.” With a wiggle of his fingers, the cloak was replaced with a White Marina T-shirt and a pair of shorts with palm trees all over them. Boat shoes donned his feet and his long beard had changed to a trimmer version.

“What now?” Erik asked. He’d only had one plan for tonight and Gwyd had denied him the ability to carry out that plan.

“You’ll thank me for that later,” Gwyd said, reading Erik’s thoughts.

“I doubt it.” Erik rubbed his eyes and stared out at the water.

“Looking for Liddy out there?”

“No. I told her to go and I meant it. I’m... I’m no good for her. I was going to kill. She shouldn’t be around me.”

“Probably not, but don’t you get the sense that she’s supposed to be around you?”

Erik studied this curious man... god... standing next to him. “Why are you here? Where’s Flidae?”

“Flidae is...” Gwyd stared out at the water then focused back on Erik. “Flidae is taking a break. I’ve assumed her duties for a time.”

“That’s why you talked me out of pounding on those lads?”

Gwyd nodded. “She wouldn’t have wanted you to do that. She would have stopped you herself if she could have.”

“Is... is she okay?” Erik hated to think something had happened to Flidae. Not so long ago he’d wanted her. Before Liddy.

“Honestly, I don’t know if she’s okay, wolf, but it was my duty to oversee her wild things, and that’s what I’ve done. I’ve stopped you from doing something that would have caused you far more trouble than it would have solved.”

“But what about Thomas?”

“What about your human friend? How does hurting those lads undo what happened to Thomas?” Gwyd put his hands on his hips, looking ridiculous in those palm tree shorts. “The best thing you can do for him is be there when he wakes up.”

“What if he doesn’t? Then what?”

“Then you’ll probably need Liddy more than ever, won’t you?”

“I sent her away.” He lowered to sit on the wall that separated the docks from the marina parking lot. “I told her to go.”

“Is that what you really wanted her to do?” Gwyd sat beside him.

“No. I... I love Liddy.”

Gwyd smiled. “I thought so. I’ve been keeping an eye on you two and your connection runs deep. So deep that anything is possible.”

Chapter Twelve

Liddy felt as if she were a leaf, floating aimlessly on the dark water of the bay. She’d cut the motor and not bothered hoisting the sails so Wild Thing drifted, pulled along by the ocean’s own decisions. She didn’t care where she ended up. She had three more weeks as a human. Three more weeks that wouldn’t be spent with Erik.

I messed this up. She’d taken Gwyd’s chance, experienced great joy in being with Erik, and had her heart broken all in the span of a single week. She also never told Erik the truth. She couldn’t help but think things would have been better if she’d never known what it was like to love him.

Because she did love Erik. Completely. With everything she had.

Only he’d sent her away. She’d pretty much made the decision to leave herself, but hearing him tell her to go hurt. Brutally. If she’d left on her own terms—to spare him any more of her lies—that would be one thing. To be told to leave, to be cast off as if she didn’t matter at all? Well, that... what was the word humans used?

Sucked. Aye, that sucked.

Liddy stretched out on the forward deck of the boat and gazed up at the night sky. Pinpricks of light dotted the blue-black canvas, and for the first time in her existence, she felt small. Flidae, the goddess of wild things, was insignificant. Without purpose. Without power.

Without hope.

She closed her eyes, wishing for sleep to come, but not getting lucky in even that tonight. This pathetic feeling was starting to annoy her.

I am more than this. She was a damn goddess. Maybe right now she wasn’t, but in three short weeks she would lord over wild things once again and forget all about this trip into the human realm. She’d forget about this boat and this bay and the werewolf she’d given her heart to.

But she could only do that if she never saw Erik again. One look at him and she knew she’d throw herself at him, begging him to love her.

Goddesses don’t beg.

She needed a plan. Rising up on her elbows, she scanned the shore, not sure where she was, but knowing she’d drifted far enough away to not be near White Marina anymore.

Good. She’d find another marina and secure another slip for her boat. She’d explore for her remaining three weeks, taking in as much as she could of the human realm as a human. She’d help any animals that requested her assistance, and she would not think of Erik Rheagan. When she returned to her duties as wild goddess, she would stop spending so much time on werewolves and focus on the many other creatures under her care.

Feeling better now that she’d outlined a course of action, she got to her feet and walked to the helm. She fired up the engine and guided Wild Thing to the first marina she came across. After tying up at the dock, she hopped out of the boat and stretched her body, wondering how humans lasted as long as they did in these fragile shells. Physically she shouldn’t hurt, but the emotions coursing through her—the sting of Erik pushing her away—made all her muscles ache. Three weeks of this and she’d be more than ready to be a goddess again.

She squinted in the dark and saw lights still on at this marina’s office. Figuring she ought to officially secure the slip she’d parked Wild Thing in, she trudged up the dock and pulled open the front door of the building. A single man, head bent over a newspaper, was stationed at the desk.

“Excuse me?” Her voice sounded loud in the quiet of the office.

“Be with you in a moment,” the man said, not looking up. “Do you know a four-letter word for large, wild canine?”

“Wolf,” she said without thinking.

The man laughed and when he looked up, Liddy stalked up to the desk. “Gwyd. What are you doing here?”

“Just checking in.” He leaned his chin on his fist. “Things not going so well?”

Liddy groaned. “Things are terrible.”

“For what it’s worth, things aren’t so rosy with your wolf either.” Gwyd shook his head.

“Why?” Liddy clenched the edge of the desk. “Is Erik okay? Is he hurt? What did he do?”

Gwyd held his hands up. “Easy there, lass. I stopped him from doing something he shouldn’t, just as you would have. I’m taking this job of yours seriously, but honestly, wolves are a great deal of work. Need constant overseeing.”

“Did he... did he hurt those lads that Thomas fired?”

“Hurt them? Aye, but they’ll all live, most likely behind bars for a time.” Gwyd drummed his fingers on the desk. “They’ll probably do some time in a psych ward too for all the babbling they were doing about seeing a half-man, half-wolf in the woods. Such imaginations.” He grinned.

“Erik isn’t hurt either?” As much as she didn’t want to care about him, it seemed that was all she could do.

“Not a scratch on him.” Gwyd met her gaze. “Well, except for that whole broken heart thing.”

“Broken heart? He told me to go. He sent me away, as if his desire for revenge meant more to him than I did.”

“It did.”

Liddy slumped into a seat across from the desk. “Not the consolation I was looking for, Gwyd.”

He stood and came around the desk to sit in the chair beside hers. “Revenge meant more to him in that moment. He couldn’t see beyond it. Thomas has been like a father to him since Erik got here to this time. He cares for the man and no matter how misguided it was, revenge was the only thing he thought would bring justice. Remember, he’s a warrior, first and foremost. He’s lived that lifestyle for a good portion of his life. I talked to him though, and his mind became clear again. Clear enough that he realized sending you away was not what he wanted.”

“What does he want?”

“You’ll have to ask him that, wild goddess.” Gwyd’s form faded. “Three weeks is enough time to make a miracle.”

A miracle? She opened her mouth to question Gwyd, but he was gone and she was sitting alone in the marina’s office. “Hello?”

An older woman popped her head out from a room behind the desk. “Oh, hello. I didn’t hear you come in.” She came to the desk, pulling a pair of reading glasses off her nose. “I’m Marie. How can I help you?”

“I... I...” Liddy looked outside. “Where am I?”

“Got tossed about in the dark, did you?” Marie gave her a warm smile. “You’re at Oasis Marina, east of Goddard Park. Where did you want to be?”

Now that’s the question of the night. Where did Liddy want to be? “White Marina.”

Marie nodded and motioned for Liddy to approach the desk. A map of the bay and surrounding areas lay under the glass atop the desk. Most of the map was blue, but brown and green land edged the blue and little symbols dotted everything.

Pointing to one of the bright white anchors on the map, Marie said, “White Marina is here.” She indicated another white anchor across from a swath of blue. “This is Oasis, where you are now. Head straight out of this marina and stay straight. You’ll literally bump into Thomas’s marina if you don’t keep your eyes open.”

“Do you know Thomas?” Liddy asked.

“Yes. I’ve known Thomas for years. His wife, Sally, was my best friend, God rest her. He’s a good man.”

“He’s in the hospital.”

The smile immediately dropped off Marie’s lips. “What?”

“There was a fire at the lighthouse. He fell and he’s in a coma.”

Marie’s hand went to her chest. “Oh, dear. This is awful news. What hospital is he at?”

Liddy gave Marie the details then thanked her for her help. Back on Wild Thing, she motored out of Oasis Marina and headed into the blackness, hoping it wasn’t too late to find Erik, tell him everything, and see what kind of miracle Gwyd thought was possible.

The god of enchantment could have helped her out by providing a speedboat. Her small motor was only good for powering in and out of slips. Wild Thing needed good steady winds to pick up any speed, but tonight was calm. Liddy fiddled with the sails, trying to maximize her pace, all the while thinking of seeing Erik again.

Would he want to see her? He’d told—no, commanded—her to leave, but that had been while his rage was bouncing around inside him. If what Gwyd had said was true, Erik was beyond thinking of only revenge for what happened to Thomas. Maybe his mind was already back on her, and he was feeling regret for what he’d said to her.

Or maybe he still didn’t want her around.

She’d never know if Wild Thing didn’t hurry the hell up and get to White Marina. The distance on the map at Oasis hadn’t seemed that long, but out here on the water, it was infinite. Liddy had too much time to think of all the ways this reunion with Erik could go wrong.

Why am I even thinking of a reunion?

She had secrets she had to tell him first, and he might never want to see her again after he learned that she was Flidae, that he’d made love to the very goddess who had banished him, separating him from his pack and his sister.

A wave of seasickness crested over Liddy. Or was it something else? All she knew was her stomach was in knots, she felt clammy and tired, and she couldn’t stop picturing Erik’s face as he’d told her to go.

Come on, come on. Why was there absolutely no wind tonight?

She drifted by a wooded chunk of land to her right and the low hoot of an owl carried over the water. Ignoring it, Liddy willed Wild Thing to get to White Marina, but the owl called to her again, this time with words.

My wing isn’t working. Please help!

Liddy didn’t have time for this tonight. She needed to get to Erik before she wasted any more of her remaining time as a human.

Please... I can’t fly.

Neither can I, she thought back. Flying as she could when she was a goddess would have greatly improved her evening.

I beg you. Help me.

Grumbling, Liddy adjusted her sails and hugged the shore, thankful her boat had a keel suitable for shallower water. She scanned the dark woods, but she couldn’t find the injured bird.

I don’t see you.

The moment the words left her mind, a rustle in the low brush beneath the trees caught her attention.

Can you fly out to me? I can’t come any closer to the shore in this boat. She was pressing her luck coming as close as she had in the dark.

It hurts too much.

What happened? Liddy dropped her sails and turned on her motor.

A wolf attacked me.

A wolf? It couldn’t be. She had to have heard wrong. Wolves were just on her mind.

I was hunting for my dinner and swooped down to grab a mouse when this enormous wolf crashed through the woods and bit me! I managed to struggle free after raking my talons across its nose, but my wing won’t move now.

Liddy desperately wanted to ask what color the wolf was, but owls didn’t see color and she didn’t need to ask. There would be only one wolf around this area. She wondered how badly Erik was hurt from the owl’s talons.

Hey, what about me? Forget the wolf. He’ll be fine. I’m the one who can’t fly!

Liddy reached out with her mind and located another bird—a red-tailed hawk—circling above the trees. Hello, friend. Can you help me?

The hawk soared over her boat and spiraled down to land on the top of the mainmast. It angled its head at her. What sort of help?

There’s an injured owl in there. She pointed to the dark woods. Can you bring him to me? I’ll give you some food if you do it.

At the mention of a food reward, the hawk took off toward the trees. Liddy lost sight of it for a few moments then found it again as it emerged from the brush with the owl clasped in its talons. The hawk flew to the stern and carefully set the owl on the bench by the helm.

That wing is torn up pretty bad, the hawk thought.

I’ll get him to a vet. Thank you. Wait here. Liddy scurried below deck and grabbed some leftover chicken from the small refrigerator. She plated it and ran up the stairs back to the helm. Here is your payment, friend.

The hawk devoured every last scrap of meat in seconds. The pleasure was mine, friend. Jumping to the railing, the hawk paused, its dark eyes focused on Liddy. Have we already met? You’re familiar.

Aye, most likely we have met. I’m Flidae.

The wild goddess? But you’re human.

Just for a little while.

Some of your gifts remained?

Only the ability to communicate with animals.

I’ll leave you to your task, goddess. The hawk did its version of a bow then spread its impressive wings. With a powerful flap, the bird rocketed into the sky, disappearing from view almost instantly.

Liddy turned her attention to the owl whose breathing had grown ragged. “Okay, little one. Let’s get that wing tended to, aye?”

Hurry. The word came on a weak breath in Liddy’s head.

She ratcheted up her engine to maximum power and motored across the bay. When she saw the lights of another marina ahead, she let out a relieved sigh. Finally.

Recognizing the sign for White Marina, she quickly found Dock 5 and navigated Wild Thing into its slip. She shut everything down, grabbed a towel from below deck, and wrapped the owl in it.

Hang on, friend. She jogged up the dock, lamenting the fact the air had a smoky quality to it. She risked a glance to the lighthouse remains and wondered where Erik was.

Probably with Thomas at the hospital. Unless he was still prowling around the woods in wolf form, scaring other small animals.

She skidded to a stop in the parking lot. She didn’t have a car. Erik had driven them around all week in a marina truck. Liddy whipped her head around and thankfully found the truck parked beside the steel building.

Keys. She ran for the marina office, trying her best not to jostle the owl in her arms. When she got inside, she rummaged around Thomas’s desk until she found the spare set of keys.

“Here we go.”

I want to sleep.

Liddy nudged the owl. “No, stay awake. Don’t give up on me, little one. You’ve made it this far.”

I’ll try.

She bolted for the truck and settled the owl in the passenger seat. After jamming several keys into the ignition until she found the right one, she sat there. She’d watched Erik drive, but she hadn’t actually done any car driving.

You knew how to sail a boat, Gwyd said.

Right.

Liddy closed her eyes and reached into herself. She pressed her foot down on one of the pedals and pulled the gear shift near the wheel to the letter D. Then she tapped her foot on the other pedal. The engine revved and the truck shot forward a few feet.

I got this.

Her ride was a little jerky, but somehow she and the owl made it to Sunshine Animal Hospital where a nice veterinarian took the owl from Liddy and assured her the creature would be fine after treatment.

With that emergency settled and a few minutes to cuddle and converse with some furry friends receiving care there, she was on her way to Rhode Island Hospital to find Erik.

And the miracle Gwyd had mentioned.

****

Erik sat on his haunches, licking his front paw and dragging it across his nose where an owl had scratched him.

That’s what I get for using my wolf to release tension.

After Gwyd had stopped him from finishing off Donald and the others, he’d desperately wanted to see Liddy, but too many emotions stormed inside him. He wasn’t fit to be in her company yet. Everything he wanted to say to her would come out all wrong. Shifting and going for a run had seemed like the perfect solution, until he’d gotten hungry and his wolf instincts had kicked in.

The owl had arrowed down, trying to get its own dinner, but Erik caught the bird by surprise, his teeth clamping onto an outstretched wing. The owl put up a wild fight and once it had dug its talons across his face, he’d had to release it. It flew off in a zigzag pattern and he thought about going after it, but his nose stung and he was tired and he wanted to find Liddy.

Sitting in a stretch of woods now, he nursed his scrapes, waiting for his werewolf healing abilities to knit the skin back together. If he shifted back to human, the healing would take longer and be more painful, but he was so anxious to talk to Liddy that the delay was killing him.

If I start back toward the marina, I can grab some clothes from my locker. The clothes Gwyd had given him had been ripped off when he shifted to full wolf. Normally, he was more careful about undressing first and setting his clothes somewhere he could retrieve them, but clear thinking was not on his side tonight. He had to get his head back on straight so he could truly talk to Liddy. He had quite a bit of apologizing to do. He never should have sent her off or spoken to her the way he had. He’d been blinded by rage and regretted everything now.

Had he actually intended to kill Donald and the others? What was wrong with him? He remembered what it felt like to kill on the battlefield, what it felt like when that lass and man in the alley had died by his actions. He didn’t want to feel that way anymore. If Gwyd hadn’t stopped him, he would have had zero chance of making up with Liddy.

Touching his paw to his nose again, Erik didn’t feel the burn of the owl’s scratches any longer. He stood on four legs and shook himself off. One quick run through the woods, a jaunt across a small neighborhood, and he’d be at the marina. He’d be one step closer to finding Liddy and making things right.

He darted through the low brush, skirting around trees and jumping over logs and boulders until he came to the residential section before the marina. It was dark out—he had no idea what the actual time was—so he stayed in wolf form to be faster. Besides, a full grown adult male running naked through the streets would be far more noticeable. In wolf form he could at least be mistaken for an oversized dog.

He navigated through the network of side streets until he could see the backside of the steel building at the marina. As he rounded the final corner that would take him directly into the marina, however, something caught him around his neck and tightened.

“Gotcha!” a male voice said.

Erik reared up, but a sharp prick to his hindquarters made the fight in him instantly die. His tongue was like cotton in his mouth and his legs wobbled. In a few moments, he felt himself falling, the unforgiving pavement slamming into his head as a ringing sounded in his ears. His gaze landed on one final thing before everything went black.

A rectangular badge was pinned to the man’s brown uniform shirt. A badge that said Animal Control.

When Erik opened his eyes again, he was still in wolf form, thank the goddess. He didn’t know what the animal control officer had given him, but he feared that in an unconscious state he might not be able to maintain his wolf form. Shifting to human while in custody wouldn’t have done him any favors.

He lifted his head and searched his surroundings. A kennel closed him in with a large German shepherd on his right and a disheveled-looking collie on his left. Somewhere down the hallway in front of the kennels water was being sprayed, from a hose perhaps. Suddenly, Erik’s mouth felt even drier. When he spotted a water bowl in the corner of the kennel, he struggled to his feet. At first, the kennel spun around him and he was fairly certain he was about to puke. His legs shook, barely able to hold him up, and spots danced in front of his eyes.

A whine from the collie made him look her way. Her tail wagged a few times when he made eye contact and focusing on her face gave him a few minutes to steady himself.

Thanks, lass.

She angled her head, but Erik didn’t expect a response. Telepathy only worked amongst werewolves... and soul mates. Or so he was told. He wouldn’t know though because he’d pushed his soul mate away. He hadn’t trusted that he and Liddy were building something that could lead to them being able to read each other’s thoughts even when he was in human form. He’d also let his thoughts get so consumed by anger over what Donald and company had done that he would have scared Liddy off if she could have read his mind. Gods, he had to get out of here and find her.

Erik walked to the water bowl and gave it a sniff. Deeming it to be purely water inside, he drank heavily, splashing water all over the place and making the metal bowl clang against the bars of the kennel.

“Ah, someone’s awake.”

Erik turned to see the animal control officer who had captured him. A low growl slipped out of Erik’s throat. Probably not the way to get himself released, but the wolf was in charge.

“I know, I know. You’re not happy with me.” The man threw his hands up. “I had to do it though, man. We can’t have a wolf—especially one your size—roaming the ‘hood. An old lady saw you in the street and called us up right away. I have to admit, I didn’t actually believe she’d seen a ‘big, bad wolf,’ as she’d put it. But here you are.” He leaned against the wall opposite the kennel, his arms folded across his chest, but his brown eyes looked kind and concerned. “Where did you come from, boy? You don’t belong around here.”

Erik wished he could shift and give this lad all the facts. He seemed like a nice fellow who could probably help him, but he couldn’t risk revealing his werewolf secret.

“Got a call in to Roger Williams Zoo, but I don’t expect they’re missing a gigantic red wolf. And if they are, how in the hell did you end up near Narragansett Bay?” The man pushed off the wall. “I wish you could give me some answers, man.” He approached the kennel and clasped the bars. “You sure are a fine-looking guy. Don’t seem as bad as you do big. That’s good.” He studied Erik for a few quiet moments before taking a step back. “Well, I hope you find these accommodations to your liking. I know it doesn’t compare to the woods, but you’ve got some pretty neighbors, huh?”

The man moved to the kennel with the collie in it. “You actually need a brushing, don’t you, girl?” He disappeared for a minute then came back holding a spiky brush. Keys jangled as he unlocked the collie’s kennel.

Erik’s gaze zoomed in on the keys as they got stuffed into the man’s back pocket. If I were human right now, I could lift those keys easily. Wolf paws were no good for pick-pocketing. How was he going to get out of this kennel? How was he going to find Liddy before it was too late? She could have sailed pretty far by now if she’d stayed on the water after leaving him, which she probably had. Why would she stick around when he’d been such an ass?

He slumped to a lying down position in the kennel as the animal control officer groomed the collie. The man’s voice was soothing and Erik’s eyes grew heavy. The effects of the tranquilizer he’d been given lingered and he couldn’t fight the sleep that overtook him once again.

When he awoke this time, the German shepherd’s golden-brown eyes were trained on him. She rose up to a sitting position when he did, mirroring his movements. A funny noise sounded from her throat then she turned around, presenting him with her backside.

No, lass, he thought. I’m not the lad you’re looking for.

After a few moments passed and Erik hadn’t made any move to accept the shepherd’s invitation, she huffed out a breath and sauntered to the other end of her kennel. She curled up into a tight ball, clearly miffed at his rejection.

What’s one more lass upset with me?

Erik listened for sounds of the animal control officer, but other than the stirrings of the animals in the kennels around him, he didn’t hear any human noises. A dim light from down the hallway illuminated the area, but most of the animals appeared to be asleep now. If he were going to break out, this would be the time, but he had no idea what he’d encounter on the other side of the kennel. The officer—and who knew who else—could be monitoring out there with tranq guns at the ready. It could be more difficult to exit the building than he thought.

So many unknowns. So many challenges. Erik wasn’t used to having so many things stand in his way. Even when he’d been banished, he’d been lucky enough to wash up on Thomas’s beach. Life had not been so hard for him here thanks to Thomas.

Thomas. Erik hoped his friend was all right. In addition to finding Liddy, he needed to get back to Thomas too. And Rianne. His sister had probably given up on seeing him again. She no doubt thought he’d abandoned her. If she knew he’d been a warrior, she most likely would have assumed he’d died in battle. Either way, she was probably upset and that made Erik feel hollow inside.

And angry.

I’m a damn werewolf. Werewolves didn’t get caged. They didn’t pathetically wait for someone to come rescue them. They used their strength to do what they had to do.

Erik stalked to the door of the kennel and got to his hind legs, his front paws resting on the bars. He studied the locking mechanism and the door frame, both made of metal, but a wolf of his size had a shot of knocking that door down. He’d have to hit it repeatedly and hard, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t stay in that kennel and let more time get wasted. He couldn’t be this hopeless.

Backing up to the far end of the kennel, he prepared to race forward and throw himself at the door. He’d have to be fast and maybe a little vicious if he expected to leave without getting a tranq shot to the rump.

As he was about to spring forward, footsteps in the hallway stopped him. The animal control officer appeared in front of the kennel.

Erik sat on his haunches, attempting to look as innocent as possible.

“Hey, big guy,” the officer said softly, and Erik felt bad about even thinking about possibly hurting this lad to get free. “Heard back from the zoo and you’re not a resident there. Just as I thought. I spent some time working there a few years back and would have remembered a regal dude like you.”

The collie next door rolled to her back in her sleep, letting a groany bark rumble out of her as she moved. The officer craned his head to look into her kennel.

“She dreams sometimes,” he said. “I found her behind a shopping mall. I don’t think she got lost. I think she ran away from a bad situation. She was a mess. Fur all filthy, paws all torn up, shaking and too skinny. She looks better now, but no one has come to claim her.” He leaned closer to the bars of Erik’s kennel. “I want to take her home with me. She’s a sweet gal. Would love to take you home too, but wolves don’t make good pets. Got a call into a wolf sanctuary up in Vermont called Silver Moon. Had to leave a message.”

Silver Moon! Erik nearly leaped at the kennel door to slobber in happiness all over the officer.

“She probably won’t get the message until tomorrow so relax, and you’ll be back in the woods in no time, my friend.” The officer gave him a wave and sauntered back down the hall.

Tomorrow! Erik couldn’t wait that long. He had to go now.

Coiling himself back, he sprang forward and threw his weight into the kennel door. The metal bars hurt slamming into him, but bent from the impact.

“What the hell?” The officer’s footsteps sounded again, but Erik couldn’t worry about that.

Again, he ran at the door, letting his body pound against it. This time a metallic screech sounded as a few of the bars came free.

“Listen, big guy,” the officer said. “Calm down.”

Erik caught sight of the tranq gun in the officer’s hands, but the lad didn’t have it aimed.

“I know wild wolves like yourself don’t like to be caged, but it’s for your safety, man. You can’t be wandering around on the outside. Someone will get freaked and shoot you or you’ll  get hit by a vehicle. It’s better to stay here until the Silver Moon owner can get you.”

Erik appreciated the man’s attempt to reason with him, and everything he’d said made perfect sense.

Except he wasn’t a wild wolf. He was a werewolf. He was a human. He had to get out.

One more assault on the door and it blew free from its hinges, clanging into the wall across from the kennel. The officer let out a shout and raised the tranq gun, but Erik rushed up to him, letting loose the loudest roar he could muster. The tranq gun clattered to the ground as a wet spot grew on the officer’s pants. His brown eyes were wide and then he squeezed them shut, no doubt expecting Erik to mince him into bite-sized chunks.

Using his paw, Erik slid the tranq gun out of reach while the other critters in the neighboring kennels barked and whined and snarled at him. The noise was deafening and the officer clapped his hands over his ears as he sank to his knees.

With another burst of speed, Erik launched himself toward the door at the end of the corridor and hammered into it. It nearly exploded out of the threshold and something crunched in Erik’s shoulder, but he kept moving. Running. Galloping. The night whizzed by him at incredible speeds, his paws barely touching the ground for more than a second at a time. This was the closest to flying a wolf could come.

When he finally stopped to catch his breath, he found he wasn’t far from the marina. Another mile or so and he’d be able to shift, grab clothes, and find Liddy.

Nothing would stand in his way.

Chapter Thirteen

Liddy merged onto the highway, hoping she was going in the right direction. She’d only gone to Rhode Island Hospital once and driving in the dark didn’t afford her the opportunity to recognize scenery. Something about this route seemed right though.

A ringing sounded from somewhere in the truck. Liddy consulted the dashboard, looking for a warning signal of some kind. She didn’t know anything about trucks. Maybe she’d forgotten to do something before driving. Maybe she was damaging the truck by operating it incorrectly. Maybe...

The ring chimed again and something bright caught her eye on the passenger seat. She reached over and grabbed the object, realizing it was Erik’s phone. The screen was illuminated with a series of numbers and a blinking button.

Tapping the button, Liddy said, “Aye?”

“Liddy, it’s me, Dylan. I was hoping you’d answer Erik’s phone.” The boy’s voice instantly calmed her. “You’re going the wrong way.”

“How did you...”

“I don’t know, but I can see you. In my mind. On the highway.”

“Your protector abilities began.” Thank the gods! “This isn’t the way to the hospital?”

“It is the way to the hospital, but if you’re looking for Erik—which you are—he’s not at the hospital.” Dylan’s words were confident. She could trust he was telling her the truth.

“Where is he then?”

“I...” There was a silent pause and Liddy pulled the phone away from her ear, wondering if there was something wrong with the device.

“Dylan?”

“Yeah, hang on. I’m trying to see where he is. The vision is sketching itself in my mind like a drawing. He’s in wolf form. He’s running. He... oh, he was in a kennel at an animal control building. But he got free.”

Erik had been caught and caged? She never should have left him when he’d told her to go. What was she thinking? She’d just been so hurt over his words that staying hadn’t seemed like an option.

But of course it was. If she had taken a moment to really look at Erik, she would have known that he... that he needed her. She’d left him when he’d needed her most.

“Okay,” Dylan said, “he’s running toward a marina now. Does that make sense?”

“Aye. Perfect sense. Thank you, Dylan.”

“I am in your service, Flidae.” Dylan coughed. “What made me say that?”

Liddy smiled though the boy couldn’t see her. “Loyalty did, protector.”

She ended the call, got off the highway at the next exit, then got back on in the other direction. This entire night had been one big chase and she’d had about enough of it by now.

Speeding along the highway, she wondered how Erik had gotten caught by animal control. How had he gotten released? Had he hurt anyone to gain his freedom?

Would he run from her if he saw her?

Liddy pressed her foot a little harder on the pedal and soon she was turning into White Marina. She parked the truck next to the steel building and jumped out, noting that one of the doors of the building was open.

Erik.

She couldn’t wait to see him, to throw her arms around him, to beg him to listen to her and accept what she had to say.

Easing open the door, she slipped into the building. A tall shadow stood by the wall of lockers. Liddy approached, the dim lighting not allowing her to see much and again she wished for her goddess powers back. She could have easily flooded the place with light.

But maybe this was more romantic.

“Erik.”

The shadow jumped, but when the form turned around to face her, it wasn’t Erik.

“The bitch that started all the trouble.” A tall man leaned against the lockers to regard her. “Excellent. I should at least get a taste for what you cost me and the boys.”

Before Liddy could react, the man—Patrick, if she remembered correctly from Erik’s stories and descriptions of the four bastards—shot his hand out and grabbed her wrist. He jerked her forward so her front slammed into his. He crashed his mouth down on hers, pushing his tongue past her lips, his arms clamped around her so she couldn’t gain any space between them.

At first she struggled against him, then she relaxed her body, hoping he’d take that as a sign of surrender. He loosened his hold on her enough that she brought her knee up and connected with his groin.

Patrick ripped his mouth from hers, his hands going to his bruising goods, and Liddy backed away.

“I thought the police had you for burning down the lighthouse.” And where was Erik? Had Patrick gotten to him? Why hadn’t Dylan seen Patrick in his vision? Although Dylan was a wolf protector, not a goddess-turned-human protector so maybe all he could see was what would keep wolves safe.

“I got free,” Patrick said, his voice strained as he cupped his balls and leaned against the lockers again. “Besides, Donald was the one who threw the match. He started the lighthouse fire.” He looked up at Liddy, not a drop of remorse in his eyes. “I was there to eagerly cheer him on. Thomas got was coming to him.” He motioned to the lockers behind him. “I’m making sure Potato gets what’s coming to him too.”

Patrick straightened a bit, and Liddy realized she should have run before now. That kick to the groin was only good for so long and Patrick could easily outmuscle her.

“What are you doing here at night?” Patrick asked, as he pushed off the lockers, his movements slow, predatory. “It’s not safe out there.” He raised a hand to point at the still open door. “You wouldn’t believe what I saw tonight. A man who wasn’t quite a man. A wolf who wasn’t quite a wolf. Some odd mix of the two.” He shook his head. “Or maybe I banged my head or something. I can’t be sure, but best to not wander around in the dark. You never know what is lurking in the shadows.”

“Clearly.” Liddy backed up a few more steps, leading Patrick away from the lockers and whatever he had planned for Erik. “If the police find you here, you won’t get another chance to escape.”

“I don’t know,” Patrick said, following her step-for-step. “I’m getting pretty good at being discreet.”

His arm jabbed out and suddenly his fingers were tightening around Liddy’s throat, her backside squashed painfully into the wall behind her. She brought up her knee again, but Patrick pressed his body against hers more firmly before she could do any damage. She desperately wanted to claw at his hand, but everything was pinned. She couldn’t swallow. Her lungs struggled for air. Her eyes watered then spots danced in her vision.

“You know I had another plan for Rheagan tonight, but maybe the best way to tear him down is to hurt you. You guys have something between you, don’t you?” He stroked a finger from his free hand along Liddy’s jaw, making her skin crawl. “If something happens to you, that would crush Potato, wouldn’t it?”

Liddy needed oxygen. She squeezed her eyes shut, but when she opened them again, the spots had increased and the edges of her vision were blackening. Could a human kill another human this easily?

And where the hell was Gwyd? She could use a hand here.

Patrick leaned in for another punishing kiss which Liddy had no choice but to let him have. The room behind him swam and she thought back to when she’d asked Gwyd if dying here as a human meant she was really dead. She hadn’t wanted to do any practical research on that question, but here she was anyway.

“No sense in killing you yet though,” Patrick whispered, his lips right by her left ear. “Let’s have some fun first.”

He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her down to the floor with him. For a moment, air rushed into her lungs and she gulped it down fervently, not able to get enough. She coughed, her throat screwed up from Patrick’s hold. Swallowing hurt like hell and she wondered if he’d busted something in her neck.

Before she could assess her injuries, Patrick sealed his lips with hers again, his body draped over hers. He was bulky and heavy, his hands roaming everywhere as he kissed her roughly. His erection pressed against her leg and Liddy wished she’d nailed him in the balls harder. Much harder.

She wanted to fight back. She did. Unfortunately, Patrick was much larger than she was and the lack of oxygen coupled with the day she’d had made her exhausted. She would never be able to get Patrick off with her limited power. He’d be able to take exactly what he wanted before he killed her.

She could deal with dying. She’d lived for far longer than anyone should. It would have been nice to get those three more weeks with Erik, but if she had to die here today, she couldn’t complain. She’d had more years of existence than anyone on Earth could boast. She was more ancient than some of her fellow gods and goddesses.

Liddy wished she could have seen Erik one more time and explained everything to him. She’d die and he’d never know she loved him. He’d never know how much he meant to her from the moment he’d become a werewolf.

“Why’d you hook up with Potato anyway?” Patrick asked as he slid his hand under Liddy’s shirt.

“Because he’s a gentleman.” She slapped at his hand and tried to wiggle away.

“Too gentle.” Patrick clamped his hands on her hips and positioned her back directly underneath him as he lowered and licked a line from her shoulder up her neck to her ear. “I promise not to be gentle. A whore like you can take it rough, right?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, Patrick unzipped her shorts and peeled them off her hips, all the while pinning her legs down with his legs and holding her wrists above her head with his other hand.

Gwyd? Dammit, where are you?

She listened for a minute, but the only sound was Patrick unzipping his own pants. She attempted again to fight back, bucking her body as much as she could. The movements were too small though, and Patrick was able to use his weight and strength to overpower her.

This can’t be happening. Something that felt akin to the rage she could summon when she was a goddess zipped through her. She may be a human, but she had eons of experience as a powerful goddess. That experience didn’t go away. It was inside her still. She had to tap into it.

“You are going to be delicious,” Patrick said. “I can just tell.”

He let go of her hands for a minute to tug her pants down and she took the opportunity to rake her fingernails across Patrick’s face. He yelped, the scratches instantly blooming with blood.

While he was semi-stunned, Liddy flipped to her stomach and wriggled away a few feet, but Patrick’s hand dug into her calf and he dragged her back. She kicked out once, twice, connecting with his nose and blood gushed.

Scrambling to her feet, Liddy ran for the open door. Somehow Patrick got there before her, slamming it shut and wrapping his arms around her body. He rolled them so she was sandwiched between him and the wall.

“Bitch,” he hissed. He reached to the back of his pants and when his hand came around, a knife was in his grip. Pressing it against her neck, he used his other hand to wipe his bloody nose. “I was saving this blade for Rheagan, but it looks like you want it instead.”

“No, please, no.” Liddy swallowed, feeling a sharp prick as the blade broke the skin a bit. “I won’t fight anymore. I promise.”

“Too late for promises.”

“Please, Patrick. You don’t want to do this.” But his stony eyes said he did.

“Do you think I haven’t been in these circumstances before? You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve done. Hassling an attractive woman, getting fired, helping to burn down a home, getting exactly what I want from a whore like you... I’ve done this all many times. I’m what my mother used to call a bad seed. Some people are put on this earth to be happy. Others—others like me—are here to destroy that happy. We can’t help ourselves.”

“Of course you can,” Liddy said, trying not to move, willing that blade not to sink into her flesh. “You can stop the cycle right now. Get your own happy. Put the knife down.”

Patrick shook his head, more blood dripping from his nose. “No. The cycle is unstoppable. It has a mind of its own. I’m at the mercy of it.”

Liddy was about to try another tact when the door beside them shot open. Patrick jumped as Erik marched in.

“Let her go.”

In a move Liddy’s mind barely registered, Erik ripped Patrick off her and threw him across the building. He ran to where Patrick’s body landed and pounced on him, a wolf roar vibrating off the walls.

“I’d love to kill you, Patrick—love that more than anything—but death is too good for an asshole like you. You don’t deserve the easy way out. You deserve to suffer.” Erik knocked the knife out of Patrick’s hand, punched him in the face, and then the man’s eyes rolled back as he passed out.

A moment later, Erik was in front of her. Gods, he was beautiful.

“Liddy, can you hear me? Liddy!” He gripped her biceps and eased her down to the floor.

She tried to respond, tried to tell him how happy she was to see him, but her mouth wouldn’t form the words. Something slick dripped down her neck instead. She raised her hand to check what it was. Every movement required more effort than it should have.

When her fingers slid over the skin on her neck—the skin where Patrick had his knife against her before Erik came in—she recoiled at the warm wetness.

“Liddy! Gods, what happened?” Erik’s handsome but concerned face faded from view. “No, no, no. This isn’t how this ends. Do you hear me, Liddy? This isn’t how this ends.”

She wanted to believe Erik, but it probably wasn’t up to him.

****

The metallic scent of blood filled Erik’s nose as he cradled Liddy’s head in his lap. The slice in her neck didn’t appear to be that large for the amount of blood flowing out of it, but he was pretty sure a major artery had been severed.

Fucking Patrick. Erik changed his mind. He was going to kill the bastard as soon as Patrick regained consciousness.

Right now, however, he had to focus on Liddy. “I’m going to call 911. I’ll get us help. Stay with me, Liddy. Stay with me.” He ripped off his T-shirt and pressed it to the wound, but the cotton became saturated with blood faster than he’d expected.

Without thinking too much about what he was saying, he made the emergency call, desperately hoping an ambulance arrived immediately. Liddy’s skin had become grayish and her big blue eyes kept closing. When they were open, however, Erik got the sense she wanted to tell him something.

“What is it, my lady?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, a tear rolling down her cheek from her left eye. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. Her neck was bleeding more aggressively now and Erik had to grab something else to try to stop it. He reached to a nearby work table and swiped a clean rag from a pile. The material was a little thicker than his T-shirt was, but it too became soaked with blood quickly. Erik had only seen this much blood in one place before.

The battlefield.

“Liddy.” Erik shook her a little and her eyes flew open. “Don’t go, lass. I need you here.”

Her lips turned up slightly and he kissed her forehead. She sucked in a staccato breath then choked on the exhale.

Erik kept the rag firmly pressed to the gash—a senseless injury. He had no doubt that knife he’d knocked out of Patrick’s hand had been meant for him, not Liddy. She’d merely walked in on the trap before he had.

Liddy coughed again, but this time she dug her fingers into Erik’s forearm, her eyes searching his face, willing him to understand something.

“Do you... do you want me to turn you?” If she was his soul mate, he could make her a werewolf or so Kole had explained to him. If she was a werewolf, she might survive this. She might live.

But then she’d be a werewolf.

Liddy shook her head vehemently, causing more warm blood to flow from her neck.

Of course she wouldn’t want to be a werewolf. She wouldn’t want to be a monster like him. She’d rather die.

“What are you trying to say then? What do you want me to know?” He brushed her hair out of her face, much of it wet with her blood now.

Slowly and with what appeared to be a supreme effort, Liddy placed her hand over her heart then held her hand out as if offering something to him.

“Your heart?”

She nodded.

“What about your heart?”

She pointed a shaking, blood-stained finger at him.

“Your heart and me?” His eyes stung when he realized what she was saying. “Your heart is mine.”

Again she nodded, wincing as more blood flowed out of her.

“Even after the way I spoke to you? Even after I sent you away?” He squeezed her hand that had landed back on her heart.

Her other hand made its way up his arm to his cheek. The warm press of her palm, the look in her eyes, told him that her heart was indeed his regardless of what an ass he’d been.

“Oh, Liddy.” His voice cut in and out as he fought to keep his composure. “My heart is yours too. I love you, my lady.”

Her eyes closed again, tears falling along her temples to mix into her hair. She threaded her fingers between Erik’s on her heart and brought his hand up to her lips. Pressing a kiss to his knuckles, she coughed once more then went completely still in his lap.

“Liddy.” Erik gave her another little shake, but she didn’t move. Her grip had relaxed on his hand and her head flopped to the side. Blood still surged from her neck, but that was the only movement.

Frantically, Erik scooped her up and placed her on another work table. Her chest no longer rose and fell and sheer panic punched him in the stomach. He lowered his face to her lips, trying to feel if she was breathing.

She wasn’t.

“Liddy! Gods, no! We aren’t finished! Do you hear me?” Where is that ambulance? Why hadn’t he been a healer in Ireland and not a completely useless warrior only capable of taking life away instead of giving it back?

Erik’s wolf was dying to rip through his skin and howl in agony. He was surer than ever that this woman—this beautiful woman he’d pushed away—was his soul mate. How else could he explain the incredible pain stabbing through his chest?

Liddy Dyra was his soul mate and now she was gone.

How could he have chosen revenge over his soul mate? If he’d stayed with Liddy instead of going after Donald and company, he wouldn’t be looking down at her lifeless body, blood glistening on her neck. He wouldn’t have witnessed her take her last breath. This wouldn’t have been the first and last time they’d told each other I love you.

Maybe I can still turn her. He waited for Flidae to tell him what to do, but when the goddess didn’t speak to him, didn’t visit him, gave him no sign whatsoever that she was with him, he had to make up his own mind.

He couldn’t turn her. Not knowing she didn’t want that. He knew what it was like to have that choice taken away. How could he do that to her?

A strangled cry worked its way out of Erik’s throat as he lowered and gathered Liddy into his arms. He slid to the floor and rocked back and forth with her in his lap.

“I love you, my lady. I will always love you.” He kissed her cold lips, his tears falling onto her cheeks.

After a few moments and with a final squeeze, he rose to his feet and set Liddy back on the table. He couldn’t do anything to save her, but he could do what he did best—slay enemies.

Erik stalked to where Patrick was starting to wake up. He wanted to shift, but this wasn’t a job for a werewolf. This was a job for a broken-hearted man. For a man who could have had it all and instead had lost everything.

For a man who had nothing left to lose.

Patrick’s eyes opened and Erik made sure he was the first thing the bastard saw. He hoisted Patrick to his feet and slammed his head against the wall, holding him there with an iron grip.

The slightly smaller man clawed at Erik’s hands, tearing at his flesh, but Erik didn’t loosen his hold.

“You took her from me. You cut her, and now she’s gone.” A low growl rumbled around each of Erik’s words.

“It’s your fault, Potato,” Patrick said, his voice a hoarse whisper as Erik’s grasp tightened.

“How do you figure that?”

“You burst through the door. It shocked me. My hand... my hand reacted by slicing into her. I... I had no intention of killing her.” The man’s eyes bugged at the reduction in oxygen getting into his lungs.

“If you had no intention of killing her, why did you have a knife to her throat? Why?”

Erik banged Patrick’s head again and the other man howled in pain. You haven’t even begun to feel the pain I’m capable of delivering.

“Maybe you should die in the same way, aye?” Erik looked around on the floor. “The knife’s right over there. I could end you in the same way you ended Liddy.”

“I don’t recommend that, sir,” a voice said behind him. “Release him.”

When Erik looked back, two uniformed police officers had their weapons trained on both him and Patrick. EMTs rushed in behind them and immediately went to the table where Liddy—his Liddy—rested. They buzzed around her, but he knew they wouldn’t be able to revive her. He felt her absence in his soul. She was already far from this place.

“Release him,” the officer said again. “We’ll sort this all out, but you need to let him go now.”

Erik dropped his hand from Patrick’s throat and the other man slid down the wall into a heap on the floor. Hands wrenched Erik’s arms to his back. He contemplated busting free of the officers grip which would have been simple, but he understood they were trying to get control of the situation.

Besides, he was tired. And Liddy was gone. What did it matter if they wanted to haul him away and throw him in a jail cell? He’d done enough things over the course of his life so far to belong in jail anyway.

Two more officers came in and hoisted Patrick up to standing.

“He killed her,” Erik said.

“You saw it?” the officer on Erik’s left asked.

Erik squeezed his eyes closed, not wanting to remember. “When I came in, he had a knife pressed to her neck. He cut into her. She bled to death.” He heard the words coming from his mouth, but it didn’t sound as if it could be true. How could his soul mate be gone? How could he be alone here?

“And that’s why you had him pinned to the wall when we came in?” another officer asked as handcuffs found their way onto Erik’s wrists.

“Aye. Considered taking matters into my own hands.” He threw a loathsome glare at Patrick. “Good thing you came in when you did.” No sense in pretending he hadn’t been planning to squeeze the life out of Patrick.

“We’ll need to get his version of the story when he’s feeling more... alert.” The officer gestured to Patrick’s lolling head then slapped a pair of handcuffs on Patrick’s wrists before leading him out of the building.

“It’s only fair.” Erik’s gaze landed on the EMTs fussing over Liddy. One shook his head at the other then consulted a wristwatch as she tapped on a handheld device. He overheard the words time of death and his stomach did a sick roll.

It was official.

The officers on either side of Erik nudged him into a walk toward the door, but he shuffled to a stop before exiting.

“Could I... could I maybe have a minute alone with Liddy? To say goodbye?” He swallowed around the lump in his throat, wishing he could have the company of the pack right now. He needed them, but he’d called Brandy to say she didn’t need to come to animal control, that he was the wolf they had and was now free. He’d explained he was on his way to find Liddy and make this soul mate bond official.

“Good news, Erik. I’ll call the animal control office, say I received another call about you, and that I’m picking you up to bring you to Silver Moon.” Brandy had gone quiet for a long moment before she’d added, “Just... just listen to Liddy if she has something she needs to tell you.”

“What do you mean?” he’d asked.

“Just listen. That’s all I’m saying.”

They’d hung up, but he’d wondered what that warning to listen was all about. Now he would have given anything to be able to listen to Liddy.

“You can have a few moments,” the officer said to Erik now. “But keep in mind, I will be outside this door and this building is surrounded. You’re not getting out of here unless we say so. We need to take both you and the other guy to the station for questioning.”

“Understood.” Erik gave the officer one solid nod. He didn’t plan to make a run for it. He planned to accept what he probably deserved—to be alone and locked up.

The officer checked his wristwatch. “Two minutes. Literally.” He stepped outside, moving the door so it was almost shut, but not completely.

Erik could hear the activity going on outside, but he tuned it out as he approached Liddy, fresh tears filling his eyes. He wanted to touch her, but his hands were cuffed behind him. The EMTs had stopped the bleeding in her neck, not that it mattered now. Nothing mattered now.

Nothing.

He bent at the waist and rested his head on her stomach just to be near her. Her body was still warm, but it had that stiffness he’d only seen in the fallen on the battlefield. The thought that Liddy had become just another casualty sickened him. She was far too precious to have died like this. Liddy was the kind of person who should have lived happily ever after into old age with the person she loved.

With me.

“We would have been so happy together, Liddy. I promise we would have.”

He closed his eyes and breathed her in. Though the smell of blood was sharp in his nose, he could still smell her lilac fragrance. He hoped he could always remember that scent.

When he opened his eyes, a white mist surrounded Liddy’s body. He took a step back, knowing that mist usually preceded a visit from Flidae, but it appeared to be coming from Liddy herself. In fact, as he studied Liddy now, she wasn’t flat on the table anymore. Her body floated about six inches above the table top.

“What...?” His question died on his lips when the white mist snaked over Liddy’s body, completely covering it and thickening so he couldn’t see through it, so he couldn’t see Liddy.

He watched for a few seconds, before his heartbeat became so fast he thought the organ might rip through his chest.

“Liddy?”

He considered calling for help. The police were just outside after all, but something stopped him. Something told him what was happening wasn’t something regular humans should witness.

Erik backed away from the table, summoned some werewolf strength, and snapped the chain between the handcuffs so his hands were free. Just in case.

The mist changed colors from white to blue to a lovely shade of purple before thinning out and dissipating on a lilac-scented breeze. Liddy’s body lowered back to the table, but her clothes had been replaced by a deep purple dress whose fabric flowed over the sides of the table. When he focused on the material, he saw that the dress was made of rose petals. Liddy’s feet were bare and her raven hair seemed longer. A glow emanated off her pale skin.

Is she an angel now?

Erik couldn’t stop himself from approaching the table, but when he got there, he gasped. This was not Liddy. This was not the woman he’d met at the marina. This was not the woman he’d made love to.

“Flidae?”

The goddess’s eyes flicked open, her violet irises immediately connecting with his gaze. Slowly she rose to her elbows, surveying her surroundings, a crease forming between her dark brows.

“Where’s Liddy?” Erik asked, his canines lengthening in his mouth. “What have you done to her? Where have you been? I needed your help.”

Flidae rubbed a hand down her face in a distinctly human move. “Let me explain.”

Chapter Fourteen

The pain and confusion on Erik’s face ripped Liddy’s heart to shreds. She’d been so selfish to play with his feelings the way she had. She should have been upfront with him from the beginning. At least she’d been fortunate enough to get the chance to tell him the truth. He’d no doubt despise her, and now that she was a goddess again, they couldn’t be together.

Maybe it would have been better if she’d stayed dead.

“So explain,” Erik said. His teeth were elongated in his mouth and his eyes had the familiar werewolf glow to them. His wolf was so near the surface she was surprised it didn’t explode right out of him. “Where is Liddy? Is she really dead? Can you bring her back?”

“The woman you knew as Liddy is dead,” she said as she slid her legs over the side of the work table and got to her feet. She wiggled her toes, a little surprised not to see the hooves she normally sported when in the human realm. Maybe Liddy was sticking with her more than she’d thought. “Patrick sliced a knife blade into her neck when you came in the door.” She motioned to the slightly ajar door.

“How do you know that? Were you here? Why didn’t you stop it?” Claws extended from Erik’s fingertips.

Flidae lifted a hand and waved her fingers at Erik. Immediately his claws and teeth retracted. As much as she still wanted to be a human, having her goddess powers back felt good. Only a short time ago she was in immense pain, but now she was strong again. Not a scratch on her.

“I was here. I didn’t stop it because... it was happening to me, Erik.”

A million thoughts bounced around in his head. They formed and broke apart so quickly, Flidae couldn’t hear them all, but a few registered.

What does she mean?

How could it be happening to her as well as Liddy?

Can Flidae bring Liddy back?

Where is Liddy’s body right now?

Will I have the chance to tell Liddy I love her again?

That last thought twisted an arrow into Flidae’s heart. Gods, she loved him so much. She had to tell him so.

“Erik, look at me.” She came to stand directly in front of him, desperate to touch him, but knowing he wasn’t ready for that yet.

He stared at her, his hazel eyes bloodshot, and Flidae’s heart ached a bit more over the notion that perhaps he’d been crying over Liddy’s death—over her death.

But I’m not dead. And neither is Liddy. Not really. How could she make him understand that she was Liddy?

And then it hit her.

“Kiss me.”

“What? I’m not in the mood for games, Flidae. Not now.” His despair was tangible. It hung in the air between them like a giant stone wall.

“No games. Kiss me.”

“I don’t—”

Flidae cut his response short by capturing his mouth with hers. The kiss started out awkwardly as Erik fought to stop her, but after a few seconds, his lips softened and his arms wrapped around her waist—a waist that was more solid than it’d ever been in the human world. He pulled her in close, her front plastered against the hard contours of his chest, his mouth simply possessing hers. A low growl vibrated in his throat as his short beard scraped along her skin, sending shockwaves throughout her body.

A body that could feel every sensation she’d felt when she was with Erik as a true human.

How is that possible? If she was back to her goddess form, she shouldn’t be able to feel everything Erik was stirring up in her right now.

She’d wanted him the moment he’d become a werewolf, but she hadn’t known what physical pleasures were possible with him. Not until she’d experienced it all as Liddy. Not until she’d made love to this amazing man. Why could she still feel so much physically for him if she had been returned to goddess status?

It can’t be you. Erik’s thoughts sounded loudly in Flidae’s mind. But it feels so much like you.

It is me, my knight.

Erik ripped his mouth from hers, his eyes wide and searching and... hoping. “My lady?”

She nodded. “I am Liddy, Erik. It’s me.”

“How? I don’t understand.” But the hope in his glowing hazel eyes as he ran his fingers over her lips was unmistakable.

She cupped his face, encouraged when he didn’t pull away from her touch. “The god of enchant—”

“Gwyd?”

“Right. You met him.”

“Aye. He stopped me from doing something stupid earlier.” Erik clenched his teeth then rubbed his forehead, taking a step back from her. “If I had done that something stupid earlier, however, Patrick wouldn’t have killed Liddy.” He met her gaze. “But I suppose he didn’t kill her. Not if what you’re saying is true. You were really Liddy?”

“I promise you I was. I am. Gwyd granted me the opportunity to become human and spend time here.” She took his hand.“With you.”

“Wait.” His brows furrowed. “You specifically wanted to spend time with me?”

“Erik.” She laughed. “As if you didn’t know that even as a goddess I was drawn to you.”

A slight smile tugged up the left side of his mouth. “Well, I’d wished you were interested in me, but I knew it wasn’t possible. You and me. The rules don’t allow it.”

“And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about me, could you? You were attracted to me while I was a goddess.” She ran her finger along his pectoral muscles then down his abs, remembering he’d lost his T-shirt in an attempt to stop the blood pouring out of her human neck.

“And being a goddess is a job you have back now?” The grin beginning to bloom on his lips as she touched him faded away.

“Aye.”

“So everything we had together, everything we enjoyed?” He cleared his throat. “That’s all gone now?”

She stepped closer, resting her hands on his shoulders, waiting until he looked her in the eyes. “That’s the strange part. None of what I felt for you as Liddy is gone. When we just kissed...”

“It felt the same.” He shook his head. “Actually, not the same. It felt like more.”

“Aye. So much more. I didn’t think that would be possible.” She let her hands coast down his bare arms. “I felt so much for you already, Erik.”

“As she was dying,” he pointed to the work table, “Liddy told me her heart was mine. Is that true of your heart? Do you have a heart to give me?”

“The heart I have is Liddy’s. Whatever she felt for you, I feel for you, stronger, deeper, but I—”

“Don’t see how this can work, aye?” His shoulders sunk a bit as he studied his boots.

Flidae tipped his head up with a finger to his scruff-covered chin. “I have my responsibilities to wild things. I have an important role to play in overseeing the world’s creatures.”

“You have an important role to play in my heart, my lady. I don’t see how I can continue my life without you in it.”

His words filled her with such love and such anguish at the same time. “I will be in your life.”

Erik shook his head. “You know it won’t be the same. It won’t be like the week we shared. It won’t be us in each other’s arms every night.”

But she wanted it to be. Oh, gods, she wanted it to be.

“What was the deal anyway?” he asked. “Gwyd gave you a free pass to be here, to be human, but it couldn’t have been forever.”

The question she was hoping to avoid, but he deserved the truth. “One month. I had one month to be here with you as a human.”

“A month?” His eyebrows shot up toward his hairline. “And when the month was over? Then what?”

Flidae took a few steps back to gain some distance, some clarity from the desire clouding her every sense. This attraction was different than her initial interest in Erik. This attraction was magnetic and consuming and growing the more she stood in front of him.

This attraction had to be what soul mates felt for each other.

“When the month was over,” she began, not able to look Erik in the eye, “I was to return to my duties as Flidae, wild goddess.”

Something dark crept into Erik’s eyes. “That’s it? Pop back into your goddess body and pick up where you left off. Were you going to explain all this to me or just cut me loose at the end of the month?” He turned his back on her and stalked away.

“Erik, please.” She followed him, but stopped short of touching him. “Honestly, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. All I knew was I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to be with you. I wanted that opportunity to see what it would be like, to for once in my long, long life get what I wished for. I wished for you, Erik. I wished to love and be loved by you.”

He walked to his locker and pulled out a T-shirt. After slipping it on, he faced her. “From the moment I met you, Flidae, I thought perhaps this werewolf thing Reardon had forced upon me might not be so bad. Having this connection to you helped me with the transition. I didn’t feel so betrayed once I saw you. You were this beautiful, powerful goddess who was going to at least watch over me if not make all my fantasies come true.”

Flidae barely moved as she listened, afraid of where he was going with this conversation.

“But really, knowing you has been torture. I wanted you when you were a goddess, but I couldn’t act on that. I had to push what I felt for you aside. Then you went and banished me. I also wanted you when you were a human, but you died. Even if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been here longer than a month.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, a slow breath sifting out between his lips—lips Flidae couldn’t stop thinking about. “Now you’re a goddess again. Where does that leave us?”

“I... I don’t know.” She wished she had answers. She wished she knew what happened next. “I do know I can’t forget what we shared, Erik. I meant what I said when I was dying on that table. My heart is yours. It will always be—and always for a goddess is eternal.”

Erik’s gaze softened. “I meant what I said too. I told you I loved you. Whether you are Liddy or Flidae, that is still true.” He stepped up to her and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. “But I think I need some time. While I do love you, you are also the person who lied to me, who banished me from my home, who kept me from my pack and my sister.”

Flidae winced, mostly because everything he’d said was true. Horribly true. “For what it’s worth, your sister is well. I had Gwyd check on her as soon as I learned she existed.”

Erik’s lower lip trembled slightly before he regained composure. “Rianne is well? Truly?”

“Aye. She’s obviously concerned about you, but no harm has come to her.” At least she could give him this one comfort.

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “Have I earned passage back to Ireland? Have I done something worthy?”

“You loved me, and because all the other wolves’ something worthies involved loving their soul mate, I’d say you’ve earned passage back to your home.” Flidae could hardly swallow around the sting in her throat, but she raised her arms. “Shall I send you now?”

Erik reached out and lowered her arms. “Not yet. There’s the matter of the police outside who want to question me about Patrick and the death that, according to them, occurred here.” He looked back at the door. “I’m surprised they’ve given me this long in here.”

“I stopped time,” Flidae said. “It’s still the moment after the officer left you. I can do one better too.” She walked to the door, opened it wider, and waved her arms. In an instant, the police officer appeared in the doorway. He looked between her and Erik a few times as if trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

“Who are you?” He glanced back at Erik then looked at the table. “Hey, where’s the body? What’s going on here? How did you get the handcuffs off?”

Erik opened his mouth to say something, but Flidae could read his thoughts and stopped him from saying anything out loud.

You can’t explain it all to him. He won’t understand, Flidae thought.

What do we do then? Erik ran his hand through his reddish blond hair and Flidae was reminded of the sunset over the water.

I can at least solve this problem.

Flidae stepped in front of the officer, whose eyes had gone wide as he took in her power. She touched his arm. “Look at me.”

The officer immediately obeyed the command, his gaze snapping up to hers.

“Good. This man is not the one you want. You have the man responsible for the woman’s death. This man,” she pointed to Erik, “is innocent. You accept this. You don’t have anything to do with him. He can go free.”

The officer nodded, his face muscles slack as if he were in a deep trance. Mechanically, he reached to his belt and removed his keys. He jammed the proper key into the handcuff rings still on Erik’s wrists and unlocked them. He collected the steel circles, not questioning why or how the chain between them had been snapped.

“This man is innocent.” He repeated Flidae’s words with a blank stare then exited the steel building.

Erik looked at Flidae. “I’m free?”

She nodded. “Least I could do. They won’t come looking for you.” She prepared to send him back to Ireland. She could still see him in Ireland, but she lamented the fact that they’d never have what they had here in this time. It had been the most real thing she’d ever felt and losing that devastated her.

“Wait,” Erik said. “I don’t want to go to Ireland yet.”

“You don’t?” A kernel of hope shivered deep within Flidae.

“No. I want to see Reardon and the others first. And Thomas. May I?”

Of course he’d want to spend time with his pack and the man who had offered him a home, especially if he intended to return to Ireland.

“Certainly. Call on me when you’re ready to go back to Ireland. I’ll come from wherever I am.” She didn’t tell him that she would never be too far away. Though they couldn’t be together the way she wanted them to be, she would do her best to keep watch over Erik Rheagan, her favorite wild thing.

****

Erik’s lungs heaved as he ran with Reardon and the pack through Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary woods. A week had passed since he’d last seen Liddy... or Flidae... or whoever she was pretending to be now. It had been a quiet week without his soul mate and goddess, but he couldn’t get her off his mind despite her trickery. He kept seeing an odd mix of Liddy and Flidae everywhere he went. At the hospital visiting Thomas, who had not awakened yet from the coma, he swore he saw Liddy with a small group of nurses. When he’d approached them, however, the dark-haired beauty was someone else.

At the marina, as he tried his best to keep Thomas’s business afloat, he thought he saw Flidae one morning when he’d arrived after sunrise. There had been a fog over the water as the sun still lingered below the horizon. He would have bet money he’d seen the wild goddess hovering over the shore, her hair flowing about her perfect face. When he ran across the beach, however, he discovered there was nothing there and he’d been pissed at himself for running over the way he had.

Liddy’s boat, Wild Thing, no longer resided on Dock 5 at the marina either. Slip 11 was empty. As empty as Erik.

By the time the weekend had rolled around again, Erik couldn’t bear the thought of spending another night alone on the small cot he’d set up in the marina’s office. He couldn’t stare out the windows and look at the charred remains of the lighthouse where he’d made love to Liddy. He couldn’t wander around the marina and miss Thomas anymore. He couldn’t take the feeling of being severed from everything that mattered to him.

He’d considered contacting Flidae and asking to go back to Ireland, but he couldn’t let the marina go completely unattended. He also wanted to see the pack first. When Marie, Thomas’s friend from Oasis Marina, offered to oversee things at White Marina for the weekend, he’d taken the chance to go to Vermont. That had been a wise idea for the pack welcomed him into their fold once more and surrounded him with the right amount of noise to drown out the solitude.

Nearly.

Kole rubbed up against him now as they stopped at the lake. It’s good to have you here, Erik.

Thanks. Erik pushed his nose into Kole’s side. It’s the first time I’ve felt somewhat at peace this week.

Many things have happened in the course of a week, aye? Kole sat on his haunches and scratched his ear with a back paw. Shaking his head, he approached the water and waded in.

Erik followed. Aye. And I’m confused. He splashed into the water and swam a circle around Kole. Reardon, Jaemus, Shawn, and the lasses were in the deeper water, playing around. Watching them made Erik miss Liddy. Flidae. The lass he loved.

What are you confused about? Kole asked.

Everything. Erik paddled closer to Kole. I’m confused about how I still feel about Flidae. I shouldn’t feel this way. She’s a goddess. We can’t be soul mates. And while she was Liddy, she lied to me. About a few things.

I’m also not sure what to do about the marina. I can’t leave it while Thomas is in the hospital. That marina is his life. He already lost his home when the lighthouse burned. I don’t want him to lose anything else.

I’m uncertain about going back to Ireland to stay. All of you are here, but how can I abandon Rianne? She’s my sister. He pawed at a lily pad. I feel as if I don’t have a clear path in front of me. I have multiple paths and I don’t know which one is the right one.

Erik swam back to the shore and slumped his wolf body onto the mossy ground with Kole following right behind him. The others were making their way out of the water as well. Soon a circle of drying wolves and one raven surrounded Erik. Having them all close eased some of the tension in his body, in his mind.

But my heart...

His heart was still all kinds of mixed up, and he didn’t have a plan for fixing that.

Give it time, Reardon said. The answers will come to you.

I’ve been away from Rianne for so long, Erik said. Flidae said she was all right, but I need to see for myself. I need her to know I’m not dead, but Thomas needs me too. He let out a frustrated growl and put his paws over his nose as he rested on the mossy forest floor.

Jessica flew over to him and landed on his back. Her small feet tickled his fur, making him itchy. You’re a warrior, Erik. A warrior werewolf. You’ve been in tougher situations than this. You will figure out the right course and find happiness.

What makes you so sure? he asked.

Jessica hopped off him and flitted over to his nose so he could see her. I don’t think Flidae would let us all be happy and not let you—the wolf she loves—be happy too.

A chorus of ayes and yeses rose up from the rest of the pack. Maybe they were right. Maybe they were wrong. He wished someone would tell him what to do.

Never that easy, my friend, Shawn said as he rolled to his back and let Jessica land on his belly.

Maybe some drinks at Barnside Pub will help? Emma suggested.

Liquid therapy, Brandy said. It can’t hurt.

An hour later, the pack was squeezed around a table at Canville’s only bar. Emma had explained Hendrake had played there several times before getting their big break. Erik was envious of how Emma knew what she wanted and had gotten it.

What do I want? That wasn’t a question he’d taken any time to answer. Back in Ireland, his wants had been pretty basic. Stay alive. Be fed. Keep Rianne safe. Enjoy his riches. He’d been content in that life and hadn’t seen a real need to make any adjustments to his direction. He’d had some plans to get Rianne away from her mother, but she hadn’t been ready to do that. Kindhearted lass that she was, she insisted on being around to care for her mother even though Rianne didn’t get much in return for her loyalty.

After becoming a werewolf, Erik’s wants hadn’t changed all that much. He still wanted to stay alive, and now it was easier to do that. He still wanted to be fed, though his hungers had changed a bit to be more carnivorous. He still wanted to keep Rianne safe, but he had to keep even more secrets from her. And he still wanted to enjoy his riches.

When Flidae banished them all, he’d been so disoriented, he hadn’t reassessed those wants. He had only thought about doing what needed to be done to get back to Ireland. He’d sought a something worthy, not knowing his something worthy would be a lass.

A lass I can’t have.

So what did he want now?

Erik scanned the table, taking in the neatly paired couples that made up the pack. Reardon and Brandy had their heads bent together over a menu. Emma and Kole were laughing about something. Jaemus had his arm around Nika’s shoulders as they talked. Shawn and Jessica were about to kiss.

That. He wanted what all of them had. He wanted love. The love he had with Flidae. The unique love he’d found with a goddess. Anything else he wanted was secondary to that. If he had Flidae—if they had a relationship—he was sure he could figure out the rest of his life.

Gods, I miss Liddy.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Erik swiveled around in his seat to see Liddy standing behind him. He stood so abruptly his chair nearly toppled over. He grabbed it quickly and righted it, his cheeks flaming.

“What are you doing here?”

“Is that any way to greet your soul mate?” Jaemus called.

“Let him be.” Nika elbowed Jaemus. “Not everyone is as smooth as you.”

Chuckles arose from the group, but Erik barely heard them. He couldn’t take his gaze off Liddy. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Her raven hair hung like a silky curtain about her face, the purple tips cascading over her shoulders. Her skin glowed in the dimness of the pub. The jeans and black tank top she wore showcased the curves he’d so enjoyed exploring, and the sandals on her delicate feet made him want to bow down in worship.

The thing that most intrigued him, however, was the color of her eyes. Not quite blue like Liddy’s and not quite violet like Flidae’s. Instead, the eyes that stared back at him were an indigo shade that made him think of the sky just after the sun had set. That time when the moon was awakening to preside over the night. That had always been his favorite time of day. Fighting was usually over at that time and he’d be reveling in victory. In this time, the water always looked so tranquil when the sky was that color, as if all the ripples of the day, all the troubles, had been smoothed out.

That color in Liddy’s eyes now made him think of only one thing. My soul mate.

“Take a walk with me?” Liddy angled her head toward the open doors of the pub.

“Aye.” Erik gave his pack a quick glance, encouraged by the smiles on their faces.

Liddy took his hand and led him out to the parking lot. He expected her to stop, but instead she navigated him over to a bench overlooking a lake with a mountain view behind it. The sky right now had that indigo color and the air was charged with... with magick.

“There is likely magick in the air,” Liddy said, tugging him to sit on the bench. “I’m here in this form because of Gwyd.”

Erik looked down at their still joined hands resting in her lap. Her hand was solid in his grasp, but something was different. “You’re not entirely human right now though, are you?”

She shook her head. “You can tell?”

“Aye. I can feel your goddess power still. You look like Liddy, but you’re Flidae.”

“I think I prefer you calling me Liddy though, if you don’t mind. I liked who I was when I was Liddy.” She turned that indigo gaze to him. “I liked who I was when I was with you, my knight.” She released his hand and clasped her own hands together, her features tense and tight.

“Just say it,” he said. “Whatever you have to say, just say it.”

“Can you ever forgive me, Erik? For banishing you. For taking you away from your sister. For lying to you. Can you? Because I can’t stand the thought that you hate me.”

Without having to think about it at all, Erik wrapped his arms around Liddy and pulled her onto his lap where she snuggled against his chest. “I don’t hate you, my lady. Not at all. I know I said I needed some time, but I never stopped thinking about you, never stopped wanting you.” He kissed her temple. “Never stopped loving you. You know it’s true. You know what’s in my head, in my heart.”

She sniffled against his neck then raised her head, her lovely eyes watery. “I haven’t stopped loving you either, Erik.”

“So what do we do about it? How can we make this work?” Because he’d never wanted anything as much as he wanted her to be his soul mate.

“There is a way.”

“There is? How?” He nudged her away and gripped her biceps. “Tell me, Liddy. Tell me how we can be soul mates.” He was desperate to know, to have her. Forever.

“It’s not without risks to you, my knight.”

He was already shaking his head before she’d met his gaze. “I don’t care. I’ll do anything. I can’t be without you. This past week has proven that without a doubt. I’m pointless if we’re not together.”

Liddy leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss turned molten in a matter of seconds and Erik knew this was paradise right here. His teeth elongated as Liddy’s tongue caressed his, and a low growl worked its way up his throat. Nothing excited his wolf like this lass. Nothing.

They kissed as crickets chirped and frogs peeped and a gentle night breeze rustled the leaves of the tall maples surrounding them. When Liddy pulled back a bit, they were both breathless, their hearts pounding. Erik was rock hard and judging by the heat coming off Liddy as she sat on his lap, she was just as aroused.

“Tell me what I have to do, Liddy.” The sooner he did whatever had to be done, the sooner he could satiate the desire burning between them—the desire that had been there since his first breath as a werewolf.

She slid off his lap and sat next to him again. Her close proximity was instantly missed. Now that she was here, he wanted to be touching her, afraid they might end up apart again.

“The only way a mortal and a goddess can be together is if the mortal proves himself or herself worthy.” That didn’t sound so bad, but Liddy’s brows lowered.

“And how does a mortal prove himself worthy?” He was afraid to hear the answer, but if a chance still existed that he could have Liddy, he was prepared to do anything.

“A mortal has to survive a series of challenges designed by the Highae Comhairle, the High Council, the governing body of gods and goddesses.” Liddy’s face paled at the mention of this council.

“There are powers above you?” He’d always assumed no one was more powerful than the Celtic deities.

Liddy nodded, her expression grim. “I consulted the records of the council and there have been two other requests for a mortal-goddess pairing.” She rubbed her hands down the thighs of her jeans. “Neither request was granted.”

“Why not?”

She looked up at him with tears glistening in her lovely eyes. “Because the mortals didn’t survive the challenges.”

A sick feeling rolled into Erik’s stomach, but he wouldn’t let that extinguish his hope. He hugged Liddy. “I’ll do it.”

“You don’t know what you’re agreeing to, Erik. You could be killed.”

“I’m a warrior and a werewolf. Not an ordinary mortal, Liddy. I can handle whatever the challenges are.” He at least sounded confident even if his heart was pounding in his chest.

“What if you can’t? I’ve taken so much from you. I don’t want to be the reason your life was taken too. I can’t bear that.” She cupped his face and he pushed into her warm, soft hand, loving her touch, needing it.

“I won’t have much of a life if you’re not in it, Liddy. I won’t be happy without you. It’s worth whatever the risks are to be with you.” He arrowed a thumb back to the pub. “I want what they have.” He took her hand in his and squeezed it. “We deserve to be happy. We deserve each other.”

Her other hand slipped from his cheek and she stood. Holding out that hand, she said, “If you’re sure, follow me.”

Erik stood and took her hand. “I’m sure, but I should tell the others where I’m going.”

Liddy tapped her forehead. “They already know. They want to help, but they cannot.”

She nudged him so he’d turn around and look at Barnside Pub. The pack stood outside the doors of the bar in a semi-circle. Worry creased their faces, but each one of them had the same thought.

Good luck.

Chapter Fifteen

Liddy wasn’t sure she’d done the right thing. Was she being selfish in telling Erik about the challenges? Probably. Did she need them to be soul mates? Definitely. The week away from him had been agonizing. She’d followed him with her mind, always knowing where he was and what he was doing, but not allowing herself to appear to him, not letting him know she was there... well, that just killed her.

His thoughts had been a jumbled mess as he ran Thomas’s marina, but his sense of duty to his friend made her love him all the more. Erik wanted to return to his sister, but he refused to let the marina suffer—let Thomas suffer—and had put his own wants aside.

She was relieved that some of his thoughts—most of his thoughts actually—still revolved around her and what they had shared. Some anger and hurt lingered, but mostly she felt love from him. When she checked in on Reardon and the others and gauged the level of love they had for their soul mates, what she felt for and from Erik wasn’t any less.

When the pack had taken him to that bar, she couldn’t resist going to Gwyd and asking for a favor.

“It’s time,” she’d said.

“You’re sure?” Gwyd had replied.

She’d nodded. “I can’t let him go, Gwyd. I’ve tried, but he’s not letting me go either.”

“You’re ready to tell him about the challenges then?”

She’d puffed out a long, slow breath. “I don’t want to...”

“But it’s the only way I can send you back as a human, Flidae. You know the Highae Comhairle’s rules. I can’t defy them.” Gwyd had put down the quill he’d been writing with and closed the ancient book on his desk. He’d tapped the cover. “My magick is only good if I follow the rules.”

“Did you go against the rules when you sent me back the first time?”

“No. Sending you back with a time limit is allowed. You’re asking for much more than that now. The challenges are the only way to make your wish come true.”

“But only if Erik survives the challenges.” She’d slumped into a high-backed, velvety chair across from Gwyd’s desk.

“Aye. He is a fighter though, a werewolf warrior. He’s got a better chance than the mortals who have tried—and failed—before him.” Gwyd had given her an encouraging look, but they both knew the likelihood of Erik surviving was slim. “Doesn’t Erik deserve the chance to decide for himself?”

That had made sense to Flidae at the time, but now that she’d brought Erik to the Highae Comhairle’s court to accept the challenges, she wasn’t so sure.

“You can change your mind,” she said to Erik now, squeezing his forearm.

He placed his big hand over hers, his palm callused but warm, reminding her how it felt to have his hands on her body. “I have no desire to change my mind, my lady. A true knight does whatever he must to be with his love. If the dragons in this case are the challenges, I shall slay them all.”

His confidence sounded genuine, but she could hear the doubt whispering in his head as well.

“Don’t listen to that.” He patted her hand. “Every warrior has a certain amount of doubt. It’s what keeps him from doing anything stupid.”

“Like facing challenges no mortal has survived?”

He was about to reply, but doors behind the Highae Comhairle’s official seats opened. Liddy pulled Erik down to his knees before the Highae gods and goddesses as they paraded out and took up residence in their gilded chairs. She’d only been at this court on a handful of occasions which was what a goddess of her level wanted. Visiting the court usually didn’t mean good news. She’d been called here when Reardon had turned his men into werewolves. She’d had to plead with the Comhairle not to execute Reardon and his men for using their werewolves to kill on such large scale. She’d been driven to protect them from death, but she’d had to banish them instead. At least they had lived.

And now they were all happy. Except for one.

Liddy looked over at Erik. His expression was serious as the Highae gods and goddesses settled themselves. His heartbeat was loud in her ears, his muscles were tensed, his thoughts... blocked.

She gave him a quick elbow in the ribs and he turned to look at her. “Why are you keeping me out of your thoughts?”

“What?” His brows lowered. “I’m not.”

“We are, wild goddess.” Mifraine, presiding goddess of the Highae Comhairle, said. “We’ve severed your connection so that you may not help this man in the challenges.” Her orange-gold eyes shifted to Erik. “Assuming you want to face the challenges.”

“I do.” Erik didn’t hesitate or falter in his answer.

Liddy didn’t like being cut off from Erik. She had planned to watch the challenges and aid him wherever she could. Of course members of the Highae Comhairle would know that. They knew all.

“Aye, we do know all,” Mifraine said. “We also know the depth of your feelings for this man so here are the terms.”

Erik leaned forward slightly, prepared to listen, determined to win the chance to be with her. Gods, Liddy couldn’t have loved him more than she did right then.

Mifraine gestured to the gods and goddesses to her right and to her left. “We, the members of the Highae Comhairle, call to order this meeting to set forth the terms of the Dúshlán. These challenges are meant to determine the worthiness of mortals.” Mifraine consulted a large book on the table in front of her. “In this case, Erik Rheagan, mortal werewolf, is seeking to claim Flidae, goddess of wild things, as his soul mate. Is this true?”

“Aye,” Erik said.

Mifraine studied him for a moment and a flare of jealousy blazed through Flidae, making the Highae goddess chuckle. “I do not want him, Flidae. I am above such things as companionship.”

That was a jab and Liddy knew it. Goddesses weren’t supposed to want love. They were supposed to carry out their duties for eternity and not get so involved with the human realm. In her defense though, few deities had responsibilities for beings such as werewolves. Few deities spent as much time as she did among humans. Few deities witnessed the true power of the emotions shared between people.

Mifraine nodded. “This is true, Flidae. I had not considered that.”

Flidae glanced up to find an expression of apology on the Highae goddess’s face. She never expected to see such a thing.

“I can admit when I’ve said something unfair.” Mifraine consulted her book again. “Let’s continue. This Dúshlán will involve three feats you, Erik Rheagan, must complete. Failure means death. Do you understand?”

“Aye. I understand.”

How his voice didn’t waver, Liddy couldn’t imagine. Her muscles were working overtime to keep her from shaking like a maple leaf. The only thing that kept her truly steady was the arm she had looped around Erik’s.

If I lose him...

Liddy squeezed her eyes shut as Mifraine continued.

“Are you ready, Erik Rheagan?”

“Aye.” Erik rose to his feet, taking Liddy with him.

“You’re not going to tell him what the challenges are?” The question was out before Liddy could stop it. She wanted Erik to have the chance to back out though if he wanted to. He deserved to know exactly what he was up against.

“Part of the Dúshlán is seeing how the competitor fares in the face of the unknown,” Mifraine said. “He mustn’t have time to plan. He must act to save himself and win.”

Erik turned to face Liddy. He rested his hands on her shoulders. “This is no different than being in the battlefield, my lady. I’m accustomed to acting on instinct and I’m still standing here, am I not?”

“Aye, but the Dúshlán will be harder than fighting human enemies, Erik. They have the power to throw anything at you in these challenges.” She was wrong to bring him here. If he died trying to survive the Dúshlán, she would never forgive herself. “I’ll be the one responsible for your death. I’ll be the one who killed you.”

Erik shook his head. “No, you’ll be the one who loved me to my dying day.”

The tears she’d been holding back sprang loose now, rolling down her cheeks in rivers. She hugged Erik tightly, as tightly as she could, willing him to remember how much she did love him.

A moment later, two Highae Comhairle gods appeared at Erik’s sides. They clamped their hands on his arms and dragged him away from her. He didn’t fight, he didn’t try to run away, he didn’t shy from the incredible challenges he was about to face.

For me. Was she even a worthy prize?

“He seems to think so,” Mifraine said.

Liddy turned to look at the Highae goddess. “What if he’s wrong?”

“If he lives, you will have to make sure he isn’t wrong.” Mifraine stood, her shimmering robes nearly blinding as she moved. “You should prepare, Flidae. Your wolf needs to see you in the audience. He needs to know what he’s fighting for.”

Liddy had not expected such words of encouragement from Mifraine. Was it possible the Highae Comhairle wanted Erik to succeed?

The rest of the council followed Mifraine from the court and the ornate doors sealed themselves behind them. Liddy was alone in the large room, the emptiness overwhelming. Quickly, she flew to the gardens she used as a residence in this realm. The lilac scent did nothing to calm her today. Nothing would rid her of the fear, the horrible thought that Erik could be killed in the Dúshlán.

But she’d had to give him the choice. He could have said no. He could have asked to be returned to Ireland of his time and resume his previous life.

Erik had chosen her instead.

She had to put the worry aside and send him all the love and hope and strength she could. She had to will him to make it through the Dúshlán.

Her arrangement with Gwyd was that she was both human and goddess at the moment. He’d given her the magick to appear as Liddy but have all her goddess power—and duties—back. Again, that magick came with stipulations. If she wanted to be both human and goddess, Erik had to face the Dúshlán. If she wanted to be Erik’s soul mate, Erik had to survive the Dúshlán. If Erik died in the challenges, she would lose her human side, become only a goddess once again, and... lose her werewolves along with her soul mate.

“What do you mean I lose the werewolves?” she’d asked Gwyd.

“Your duties with them will be reassigned. The Highae Comhairle will not let you oversee creatures that have tempted you so.”

“But I’ve only been tempted by one, and if Erik doesn’t survive the Dúshlán, the temptation will be gone,” she’d argued.

“Will it?” Gwyd had asked. “Do you not love all of those wolves for the strength they’ve shown, the resolve they’ve displayed in flourishing despite banishment, for the bonds they share with their soul mates? It’s a different love yes, but they have been loyal to you. They rescued you from Baglor’s realm. They risked their lives for you and you love them. More than the other creatures in your charge.”

She’d opened her mouth to protest, but the words died on her tongue. Gwyd had been right, of course. The werewolves—even the new females created—were special to her. She felt emotions for them a goddess shouldn’t be able to feel.

When she thought about all she could possibly lose with Erik competing in the Dúshlán, she felt another thing humans felt.

Sick.

“You must get ready.”

She whirled around to see Gwyd approaching from the woods she’d created around the gardens.

“The Dúshlán will not wait for you.”

“I know.”

Gwyd angled his head at her, considering, then flicked his hand in her direction. The jeans and tank top she’d been wearing changed into a lilac gown. The bodice was fitted, the skirt and arms loose and flowing, and a belt of lilac blossoms encircled her waist. With another wave of Gwyd’s hand, her hair was curled and piled atop her head, held in place by a crown of lilacs and lacey vines. A heart-shaped nugget of rose quartz hung from a silver chain around her neck.

“There. That’s better. Now you are sure to inspire your wolf to win.” Gwyd, now wearing robes of the deepest green, bent his arm and held his elbow out to her. “Come now. I’ll escort you.”

Fingering the quartz and drawing strength from its magick, she slipped her arm around Gwyd’s and followed him down a dirt path that eventually disappeared. It was replaced by a gilded, bricked path that lead to the Dúshlán grounds. These grounds only appeared when called upon, and Liddy wasn’t sure if she should be grateful for the chance the challenges gave her and Erik or terrified of the possible outcome.

“You should be both, Flidae,” Gwyd said, resting his hand atop hers. “For you have the potential to experience bountiful happiness or crushing despair with the Dúshlán. What happens next determines how your life unfolds. The stakes are indeed high, but the possible reward is too great, too wonderful not to try, aye?”

She nodded, too choked up to speak. Touching the rose quartz pendant again, she hoped Erik’s try was enough to bring them both what they wanted.

****

Erik had been outfitted with limited armor and a sword, which was more than he’d expected, but he supposed if they had just tossed him into the challenges, it wouldn’t be much of a show. And there was no doubt that part of this was for entertainment’s sake. He remembered Flidae telling him that aside from the duties gods and goddesses were assigned, eternity was a long and boring time. Something like the Dúshlán would certainly break up the monotony and from what he understood, these challenges didn’t happen often.

Because a person had to be out of his mind to choose this. Or in love. A love so deep and consuming that without it he’d die anyway.

He gave his sword a few practice swings in the holding room he waited in. It’d been a while since he’d wielded such a weapon. After banishment, he’d had no need to seek out a sword and use it to defend himself. That wasn’t how things worked in this time. In this time, one had the opportunity to meet incredible people like Thomas White and build a life that felt good.

Good wasn’t enough though. Not now. Not after knowing life could also feel amazing when you had the love of your soul mate.

Liddy had the chance to be with him if he won these challenges. He had to try. He had to do whatever he could to have her by his side. Living alone was no longer an option for him. The bond he shared with Liddy was too big to ignore, too grand to overlook, too powerful to dismiss.

He loved Liddy and would prove it in the Dúshlán.

As he tightened his armor and swung his sword in practice a few more times, one of the gods who had brought him there said, “It is time. The Dúshlán awaits.”

Erik wished he could see—or at least hear—Liddy once more before facing the challenges. He wanted to assure her—and himself—that victory was possible. He would give his all to the Dúshlán. Whatever happened was meant to be.

He followed the god out to a platform overlooking a giant maze of lush greenery. The walls of the maze were made of tall evergreens planted close to each other so as to create barriers. The network spread out from a center where something... something fiery waited. The maze had so many twists and turns and not all avenues led to the center. Would he be allowed to turn around once he chose a path?

What concerned him most were the low growls, high-pitched screams, and general noise coming from inside the maze. What lurked beyond those walls? How hungry were they? Was he merely walking into certain death?

Then he spotted Liddy taking a seat in a row of gilded benches below Mifraine and the other Highae Comhairle members. She was radiant in a light purple dress that was both soft and sexy at the same time, and her hair done up the way it was made her look like royalty.

And she wants to be with me.

That was the crazy part. He was just some bloke from Ireland, the son of a merchant, a hired warrior who’d killed people, a werewolf with fangs and claws, but this powerful, gorgeous goddess wanted him. She loved him and he loved her more than he’d ever thought possible.

He would win these challenges. For her. For them. For love.

The benches surrounding the maze filled with gods and goddesses. Erik had no idea so many existed, but there was no mistaking they were deities. Power filled the arena, not all of it positive either. He knew there were gods and goddesses of dark things just as there were ones of light. Whenever he’d been on the battlefield, he’d prayed to the light ones to save him and the dark ones to give him the strength to kill. They’d both served him well and he was able to stand here today because of them.

How much longer will I be standing?

He shook his head, refusing to think that way. Instead he focused on Liddy whose indigo eyes were trained on him. Love reflected in those depths, but also worry and fear and guilt. He wanted to go to her, to hold her, to tell her everything in their past was forgiven. He missed the telepathic connection, but hoped his eyes said as much as hers did.

I love you, my lady. Whatever else happens today, know that.

“The first challenge,” the god beside him announced, “involves getting through this maze. If you make it to the center, the second challenge will commence. If you make it through that, the third challenge will appear.”

Erik waited for more instructions, but the god slipped away and when Erik saw him next, he was seated beside Mifraine. Another look at Liddy showed him that Gwyd had joined her. He wanted to give the god of enchantment a piece of his mind for offering Liddy things she wanted with all these conditions. Conditions that made the situation difficult, but in the end, Gwyd had given him Liddy. Without having Flidae in Liddy’s form, Erik never would have found his soul mate. He’d never have experienced a bond worth dying for.

He just hoped he didn’t die today.

Liddy put her hand over her heart and pointed to Erik.

Her heart is mine.

That was all he needed to know.

The platform he was standing on lowered, bringing him to ground level where the maze was. He stood before an iron gate, the sounds rising from the maze louder now that he was this close. Slowly, he drew the sword he’d been given, wishing it was his own, but that sword was in another place, another time. This one would have to do. A blade was a blade and he’d defend himself as best as he could to get to the center of this maze.

The iron gate cranked open, gears squeaking as the bars rose. Not waiting for something to come out and surprise him, Erik ran inside, trying to remember the general layout of the maze as he’d seen it from above. The paths were narrower than he’d expected, the walls of greenery nearly touching his shoulders as he passed, but enough room existed for him to keep his sword out in front of him, poised and ready.

He came to the end of this path with the option to go left or right. He had no idea which could be a dead end and which would get him closer to the center. Closing his eyes, he summoned his wolf for that creature was far better at navigation than an all-human Erik was. His teeth elongated, his claws extended, his hands became a little too big to hold the sword correctly, but he maintained as good a grip as he could.

Sniffing the air, his werewolf nose picked up the faint scent of something burning. He remembered an orange glow coming from the center of the maze. With his eyes closed, he inhaled deeply to the right then to the left. The smoky odor was stronger to the left so he ran that way. He’d gotten no more than a few feet when a winged beast swooped down, picked him up, and dropped him back at the start of the maze.

All right. So there’d be obstacles. It was more than merely navigating through. It was more than simply battling creatures. Those creatures were meant to disrupt his progress in various ways. He’d have to play this game smarter.

Increasing his speed now that he was partially shifted, Erik bolted down the path he’d already traveled and turned left without hesitation. When a shadow passed over him, he jabbed his sword up and caught the winged creature in the belly. Guts spilled out, just missing him, which was fortunate when he saw how the beast’s innards charred the evergreens it touched. The creature fell to the ground and Erik got a better look at it. It had the body of a lion, but leathery wings like those of a bat. It wasn’t furry like a big cat though. Instead it was scaled and black, as if it had been born of fire.

He didn’t waste too much time studying the beast. Just enough to register its size and potential weaknesses though gutting it had been effective.

Continuing forward, he reached an open area with three paths in front of him. Three choices, two of which could mean failure. Again he trusted his nose and chose the path to the right this time. Running along it, he stopped short when another beast blocked his progress. This one was huge and snake-like with rows and rows of pointed teeth that looked more than prepared to rip into him. He steadied his feet, squared his shoulders, and took a swing at the monster.

It was faster than he’d anticipated, dodging his strike with smooth, slithery movements and coiling back to strike. Erik swung his sword a second time, but a tail lashed out and swept him off his feet. His sword went flying and he landed on his back. Hard. The fall stunned him for a few moments as the onlookers gasped. He wondered if they were rooting for him or wished him to fail. His success would mean they weren’t as powerful, that they could be beaten. Would they be all right with that?

But Liddy was one of their own. Did they fault her for loving him? Did they disagree with the notion of deities and humans loving each other or were they looking for someone to change that for them? At least two other gods or goddesses out there had wanted the same things Liddy did.

In the next moment, teeth sunk into his shoulder and Erik howled in pain. The bite stung as the creature’s teeth tore into his flesh. He thrust one hand out, searching for his dropped sword, while his other hand made a desperate attempt to dislodge the beast. When his hand finally wrapped round the hilt of his sword, he brought it up and speared the fiend. Its hiss nearly pierced his eardrums. He rolled out from under the creature and popped up to standing, his sword at the ready in front of him.

Blood oozed from his ripped shoulder, but it dried quickly, his werewolf healing abilities knitting the skin back together until the teeth marks disappeared altogether.

The creature writhed on the ground, its hissing growing quieter as each second ticked by. Erik straddled the wounded beast and ran his sword along its neck like a knife through meat. The two pieces wiggled for a few more moments then stilled.

Erik, 2. Creatures, 0.

He rotated his arm, testing his mending shoulder and though a dull ache still throbbed there, it wasn’t enough to slow him down. His nose told him to continue down this path and he did so at a run, wondering if completing this maze came with a time limit. With few directions, he didn’t know the rules so decided not to waste time just in case.

He next found himself slogging through a marshy area in the maze. Knee-deep in murky water, he sloshed forward, his eyes scanning for any movement beneath the surface. Could this be the right way? Was he off track already? What else waited for him in this maze?

On his next step, he found no solid ground beneath his foot. It was too late to stop his momentum and he fell forward. Submerged in the putrid water, he paddled, trying to keep his head above the surface.

Something coiled around his ankle though and tugged him under. He had just enough time to fill his lungs with air, but that wouldn’t last long. He struck out with his sword, not able to see what had a hold of him. When the hold on his ankle tightened and more somethings wrapped around his foot, he fought not to cry out and lose the air he had. Incredible pain shot through him as the hold squeezed and bones cracked in his left foot. He could heal it, aye, but it wouldn’t do him any good if he couldn’t get out of the water first. With each snap of bone, the muddy abyss pulled him deeper.

Then he remembered Liddy was waiting for him on the other side of the water’s surface. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—leave her.

Shifting a little more, he allowed himself to become more wolfman. His claws grew larger and he bent in half beneath the water to slash at whatever had a hold on him. A few tentacles released his foot. He dug his claws into the tentacles again and was suddenly free, but his ankle and foot were useless at the moment.

Sheathing his sword to free his hands, he used his arms and uninjured leg to swim like an arrow to the surface. When his head broke free and he shook the water from his wolfman head, the spectators unexpectedly cheered.

Erik swiveled, trying to get his bearings, then swam in what he hoped was the right direction. He reached the other end of the body of water and clawed his way onto the bank. Turning over onto his back, he sucked in great lungfuls of air, but there was no time to rest.

A noise in the middle of the water made him sit up. Five fat tentacles exploded out of the water, drops spraying in all directions. The large tentacles anchored themselves on the banks of the marsh while a gigantic body emerged from the center of the water. Bulbous, orange, barnacled, and spiked, this creature looked pissed that its prey had squirmed free.

Erik scrambled to his feet, roaring in pain as his left foot couldn’t support him yet. He didn’t have a choice though. If he stayed where he was he’d be an appetizer. He had to run.

His hobbling gait didn’t let him get too far and the sounds behind him let him know the creature was not going to just let him go. He reached a fork in his path and without sniffing, chose the one on the right. He ran for what seemed like forever, his foot and ankle slowly getting stronger as the bones mended, but still plaguing him with a good amount of pain. Healing happened faster when you were a werewolf, but even werewolves needed rest to fully heal from more serious injuries. He wouldn’t be getting any rest today though.

The sounds of thrashing through evergreens reached thunderous levels and Erik threw a glance over his shoulder. The octopus-like beast whipped its tentacles out in all directions, shearing off evergreen boughs as it squeezed through the maze after him. He drew his sword and looked back in front of him...

...where a wall of solid rock waited.

Chapter Sixteen

Liddy held her breath as Erik got trapped between the rock wall in the maze and the Octopaidel. She’d already thought she’d lost him when he went underwater, but he’d managed to get free. She didn’t see a way out now. That tentacled beast blocked his path and that rock wall was solidly constructed. Plus, she could tell something had happened to his left foot and ankle by the way he favored it as he ran through the maze.

The Octopaidel let out a screeching roar now, saliva dripping from its mouth as it waved its tentacles in the air. If only she had a way to communicate with Erik right now, but their telepathic connection was severed and there was no sense in trying to yell to him. For one, the noise in the arena was deafening. Her fellow gods and goddesses were acting as if they were attending a human football game. Secondly, if she helped him, the Highae Comhairle would see that as interference and she’d risk losing everything.

Thirdly, she had no idea how to help him anyway. If she were in his shoes, she’d have resorted to goddess powers by now, but he didn’t have that sort of magick.

Unless...

She turned to face Gwyd, but he shook his head.

“If you can’t interfere, wild goddess, neither can I. Same rules apply to both of us,” Gwyd said.

Blast it all. She hated this. All of it. Watching Erik get hurt, maybe watching him die, was pure agony, but the delight on the faces of her fellow gods and goddesses told her they were thoroughly entertained.

What is wrong with them?

Nothing. Nothing was wrong with them. She’d attended the Dúshlán before and remembered getting the same thrill out of being a spectator. Of course the player hadn’t meant anything to her. He’d been just another human foolish enough to have fallen for the perfection found only in deities.

Now that foolish human was her foolish human. Only he wasn’t entirely human. She knew he was tapping into his werewolf side to make it through this. She’d seen the claws and fangs come out, she’d witnessed the bite in his shoulder healing, and she’d watched him use his claws to defend himself. She’d half expected Mifraine to call foul play on the Dúshlán because Erik was using his wolf, but the Highae goddess hadn’t said a word. They both knew nothing in the rules of the Dúshlán forbade use of extraordinary abilities on the part of the player. Mifraine and the other members of the Highae Comhairle had known Erik was a werewolf when he entered the Dúshlán. If they hadn’t stopped him then, they weren’t going to stop him now.

But would those werewolf skills be enough to bring victory? Gods, she hoped so. With every molecule of her now human body and every speck of power contained in her goddess self, Liddy hoped Erik Rheagan survived the Dúshlán.

She didn’t dare look to the future yet. She couldn’t start building that happy life in her mind yet. She couldn’t imagine making celebratory love to Erik upon his success.

No. Right now, she clasped her hands tightly in her lap and prayed he would make it through these three challenges.

The Octopaidel lashed out a tentacle and caught Erik in the face. He’d shifted to wolfman so the wound marked his elongated nose, blood dripping down to his fangs before hitting the ground at his oversized feet.

In this form, his armor had grown tight. Liddy could see it restricting his movement and as if he’d noticed at the same time she did, he ripped it off and tossed it to the ground. Now his midsection was unprotected and that made Liddy move to the edge of her seat.

Erik still held the sword, but when he cut one tentacle, another one whipped out and caught him somewhere. He was getting beaten badly, his blood mixing with the dirt path of the maze. The injuries were healing, but for every one that closed, the Octopaidel made another one.

The beast kept advancing and Erik kept slashing his sword, but eventually he was backed up against the rock wall. A hush fell upon the audience as they all no doubt thought this was the end of Erik. Power of fellow gods and goddesses flowed over Liddy in support. She hadn’t expected them to be on her side, but they were. They wanted Erik to win. The majority of them didn’t know what love was or what it felt like, but they wanted her to have the love she’d found with Erik.

With a thunderous roar, the Octopaidel shot its biggest tentacle toward Erik. At the same time, Erik shifted to full wolf, his sword dropping to the ground, and he ran between the tentacles the creature was using as legs. He squeezed under the Octopaidel and darted back down the path. He was a rusty red streak as he ran back the way he’d come and chose a different direction this time. He didn’t look back and he didn’t stop to consider his route.

He. Just. Ran.

Faster than Liddy had ever seen a wolf run. The muscles in his hind legs strained as they propelled him forward. He jumped over other creatures that appeared in his path, snapped his jaws at them, barked in their faces, clawed them to shreds, and kept moving. When he arrived at the center of the maze, Liddy couldn’t keep herself from jumping to her feet and cheering.

She wasn’t the only one. Applause erupted from throughout the arena as the maze’s evergreen paths disappeared and only the center remained.

The fiery center filled with a wide pit of burning coals.

“We have had mortals make it to the second challenge in the Dúshlán. This doesn’t mean your human has succeeded yet,” Mifraine said from her seat a row above Liddy.

The god who had begun the Dúshlán, Vrith, appeared at the pit and stood beside Erik who was still in wolf form.

“Shift,” Vrith commanded.

Erik did as he was told and stood beside Vrith. In human form. Naked. He quickly put his hands over his goods, but that didn’t keep anyone in that arena from seeing everything else. And it was a feast for the eyes. Though drying blood marred his flesh and dirt was smeared on his feet and arms, he was still beautiful. His muscles were tensed, ready, and that only made his form look more impressive as those muscles were showcased. His eyes still glowed, letting Liddy know his wolf was right there, prepared to burst through if needed.

“You’ve completed the first challenge of the Dúshlán,” Vrith announced. “Two more challenges await you.” He motioned to the pit of burning coals in front of them. “Your next task is to cross this pit. You cannot go around it. The third challenge will only be presented if you successfully traverse these burning coals.”

Erik’s brows knitted together, but his eyes still glowed. He wouldn’t back down from this next challenge. He wasn’t ready to give up.

For me. Liddy loved him more than ever after seeing what he was willing to do so they could be together.

“No more shifting,” Vrith said as a pair of pants materialized on Erik. “You must cross in human form.”

Liddy’s shoulders sank. Crossing that pit was going to hurt no matter what, but in wolf form, Erik could travel much faster and save himself from being on those fiery coals any longer than necessary. Now he’d have to cross with his feet bare. She cringed.

But Erik didn’t hesitate. He bolted onto the coals, his powerful legs carrying him over the heated and sharp surface. His knees never buckled, he never slowed, and he was on the other side of the pit before Liddy’s stomach could tie itself into any more knots.

How did he do that?

He stamped his feet a few times on the dirt and bent over to catch his breath, but other than that, he didn’t seem affected by what he’d done.

Vrith appeared again by Erik’s side, surprise evident on his face. “No one has ever made it across the pit.” He threw a glance up to Mifraine whose eyes were wide in disbelief. “How did you manage to cross so swiftly and without crying in agony?”

Erik picked up his left foot and wiggled it slightly. “I was blessed with a high tolerance for heat and big feet. When I was a warrior in Ireland, I used to do this trick where I’d put out our camp’s fires with my feet. So, you see, I’ve quite literally done this challenge many, many times.” He shrugged, but winked up at Liddy.

Liddy wanted to rush down there and throw herself into Erik’s arms. He might actually do this. He might actually win all three challenges and get to be her soul mate for as long as he lived. They might actually have a wonderful life together, full of possibilities she’d never considered before.

Where would he want to live? Back in his time or in this time? If he chose this time, would he want to go back to Ireland or stay in Vermont? Did he want to be with this sister or his pack? Did he want to be by the water or deep in the woods? Would they get married? Would they have children?

Could she?

“All is possible,” Gwyd said beside her. “You’ll be human if he finishes the Dúshlán in one piece. With that comes all the positives—and negatives.”

“But I’ll also still be a goddess,” she said.

“Aye. You will be a human with goddess powers and responsibilities. So when your time is done in the human realm, when you die a natural death, your goddess life will continue.”

“And if Erik dies before me?” she asked.

“You will still have to live out your term as a human.”

Live without Erik? That sounded terrible. She’d have to make sure she took excellent care of her soul mate so he lived a long, long time.

The pit of burning coals disappeared and in its place the familiar setting of Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary appeared. Erik spun in a circle, no doubt recognizing the scenery as well.

What is this about? Liddy had always thought of the sanctuary as... well, as a sanctuary. Her wolves had the chance to be wolves there. The pack was at peace due to running in Brandy’s woods together. Dylan, her chosen wolf protector, lived there and would one day care for wolves in need.

Silver Moon Wolf Sanctuary did not belong here in the midst of the Dúshlán.

When Reardon, Jaemus, Kole, and Shawn appeared in the field Erik and Vrith were standing in, Liddy nearly split apart with worry.

She didn’t truly panic though until a huge raven cast a shadow over the entire arena. It swooped down, transformed in the air, and landed as Lio, god of dead souls, in the grass among them all.

What does he want? Liddy was quite aware that everyone of the wolves in that field right now had a tarnished soul. They’d all killed. Killed mercilessly. Killed for riches even. Lio collected those souls, but had agreed to not collect any of their souls in a deal they’d made after Jessica had killed Baglor, the original god of dead souls. The appearance of Lio now though was not a happy occasion. It couldn’t be.

Vrith gestured to Reardon and the other men, on their knees now. They were chained together at the ankles and wrists, and each of their eyes glowed, indicating they were moments away from shifting.

“The remaining members of Erik Rheagan’s pack,” Vrith said by way of introduction to the audience. “And we all know Lio.”

Lio gave a quick bow, but when he looked up at Liddy, his expression was pained, as if he was not there by choice.

“The previous challenges have been physical,” he said to Erik. “You are the only mortal to make it to the third challenge. I congratulate you.” Vrith bowed his head at Erik. “Honestly, we were not prepared to need a third challenge. You have surprised us all.”

“Why are they here?” Erik ignored Vrith’s praise and pointed to Reardon and the others. “They have nothing to do with what’s happening here today.” A few slashes from the Octopaidel were still healing on his face and arms.

“Ah, but they are an integral part of the last challenge,” Vrith said. “Lio will one day collect their tarnished souls when they die. He will collect yours as well upon your death. The third challenge is quite simply a choice you have to make.”

Erik glanced at his pack, his teeth clenched. “What choice?”

“Maybe another challenge would be more appropriate,” Lio said. “I made a deal with these wolves and their goddess.” He looked at Liddy again. “I want to hold up my end.”

“You are not going against whatever deal you made, Lio,” Vrith said. “If the Highae Comhairle calls upon you, you have no choice but to come and do what is asked of you.”

Lio nodded once, but his mouth was a grim line, creases of regret etched into his forehead.

“What choice?” Erik repeated his question, his hands fisting and opening, fisting and opening at his sides. “What is the final challenge?”

Vrith looked up at Mifraine who simply nodded back at him. “The third challenge is to pick which of your pack members will have their soul collected. Today.”

Reardon and the others snapped their heads up, teeth and claws sliding out as their wolves prepared to defend themselves.

Liddy didn’t want to lose Erik, but she didn’t want to lose any of the other wolves either. She’d gone to great lengths—although it hadn’t seemed that way to them at first—to keep them safe, to keep them alive, to give them the chance to make better lives than the ones they were living. If one of them died today so she and Erik could be together, how would she and Erik be truly happy? If their dreams came true at the expense of a life that meant something to them, had their dreams really come true?

“No.” Erik squared his shoulders. “None of them die today. None of them.”

“Then you offer your own soul to Lio in their place?” Vrith asked, one brow raised.

Erik looked up at Liddy again, and though their thoughts were no longer connected she knew exactly what he was thinking.

I’m sorry.

“Aye, I offer myself.” Erik kneeled in the grass, his head bowed and his hands behind his back. “My soul is yours.”

****

Liddy’s cry resonated throughout the arena, but Erik had to surrender himself. He couldn’t let his pack, his brothers in battle, suffer because he loved a lass. He couldn’t take one of them away from a soul mate.

Not even for his soul mate.

He held his breath and waited for Lio to do whatever he had to do to collect his soul. Erik couldn’t argue that it was indeed tarnished. It had the blood of many staining it and he could do nothing to redeem himself.

Now that he knew he’d failed in the Dúshlán, everything ached in his body. Wounds incurred during the first two challenges were healing, but not without him feeling every inch of skin re-growing. His muscles throbbed. A few bones in his left foot and ankle still felt loose and out of place. Even his knees pressing into the grass as he awaited termination felt like the knees of an old man.

He fought not to look up at Liddy again. Though he wanted to see her at least once more before he died, he didn’t want to see disappointment reflected in her eyes. He’d almost done it. He’d almost won them their happily ever after. Almost.

But almost couldn’t be counted as a victory. They would be separated forever. He wanted to be thankful for the time they’d had together, but it had been so short. No more than a tease.

What would happen to Liddy now? Would she return to being Flidae, full-fledged goddess of wild things? Would she forget all about her time as a human?

Would she forget about him?

Sweat dripped down his face. Or was it tears? He wasn’t sure where he’d end up once Lio took his soul, but wherever it was, he vowed never to forget Liddy. She would forever be a piece of him. Because of her, he knew what it meant to love and be loved. He had to thank her for that.

Against his better judgment, he risked another glance up to where Liddy sat. The anguish on her face ripped into him. He hated letting her down. He hated leaving her. He hated seeing her tears.

A hush had fallen over the gods and goddesses in the audience. Vrith and Lio hadn’t moved an inch. Were they going to get this over with or what?

“Truly amazing.” Mifraine glided over to them from her seat behind Liddy. “You choose to sacrifice yourself, your happiness, for your fellow wolves?” She stopped in front of Erik, her orange-gold eyes studying him as if she couldn’t quite figure out what she was looking at.

“Aye. They all have soul mates waiting for them in the human world.” He looked at his pack, chained together like animals, and knew he was doing the right thing. “Two of them have children depending on them, another a babe on the way. I can’t let any of them die so I can be happy.”

“That would indeed be selfish, wouldn’t it?” Mifraine pointed to Reardon. “But surely you don’t want to spare this one, do you? He turned you into a werewolf without your consent. You are what you are today because of him. Doesn’t death seem a fitting retaliation?”

Erik looked at Reardon. Certainly everything Mifraine had recounted was true, and yet, he’d forgiven Reardon almost immediately. Being a werewolf wasn’t so bad. Unless you were subjected to the Dúshlán.

And lost.

“My own choices got me to where I am today,” Erik said.

Mifraine flicked her hand at the pack and the chains dropped from their wrists and ankles. “We have no further need of you.” She raised both of her arms, but Reardon boldly stepped forward.

“We aren’t leaving.”

Mifraine cocked her head to the side, listening. “You are the Alpha of this werewolf pack?”

Reardon nodded as the other men rose to their feet and flanked Reardon’s sides.

As we would do in battle, Erik thought. They may have been hired killers back home, but their loyalty ran deep. He was proud to be among men of their caliber. For however much longer he had.

“If I put swords in all of your hands, you would fight to free Erik, aye?” Mifraine asked.

“We’re willing to do that very thing,” Reardon said, the rest of the pack nodding in agreement.

“No.” Erik shook his head. “There’s no sense in any more fighting.” He looked at Mifraine. “Send them home to their mates. Please.”

Mifraine raised her arms again and before any of the men could protest, they disappeared from the arena.

“I have your word they were returned?” he asked.

“My personal guarantee.” Mifraine clasped her hands behind her and approached Erik. She cupped his chin and stared into his eyes, her gaze penetrating, painful almost, and yet, he couldn’t look away. “Your soul may be tarnished, Erik Rheagan, but the man before me now shines brightly. In making your choice to give yourself over instead of one of your comrades, you have won the final challenge.”

What?

His mouth gaped as he struggled to make sense of Mifraine’s words. I won?

Liddy was suddenly by his side, kneeling next to him, her arms squeezing around his neck until he couldn’t breathe.

“You won,” she whispered. “You did it.”

He let her pull him to his feet, still not believing his choice—one he hadn’t had to think about too hard because it had been the right thing to do—had been counted as a win.

“Humans do enjoy such emotions, don’t they?” Mifraine directed the question at the audience.

A quick glance around the arena showed gods and goddesses staring at Erik and Liddy, a mix of curiosity and... want on their faces.

“Maybe it’s time for change. Maybe we’ve been following the old rules for too long.” Mifraine turned to Vrith. “Schedule a session of the Highae Comhairle to discuss,” she motioned to Erik and Liddy, “this and the possibilities it presents.”

The audience became a buzz of activity as questions and excitement flew around the arena. Erik was still stunned he wasn’t dead.

Perhaps he was dead and he’d somehow made it to an afterlife where his biggest dream—being with Liddy—had been made real.

“Slap me,” he said to Liddy.

“What? Why?” She cupped his cheek instead, her thumb rubbing against his beard.

“I want to make sure I’m not dead.” He gripped her shoulders. “Slap me. I need to know this is real.”

Liddy’s smile sure looked real, her face the most beautiful thing in the world. “I’ve got something better than a slap, my knight.”

She pressed her lips to his, and gods, that felt real. When he wrapped his arms around her, she was warm and solid and there. Really there.

Liddy pulled back a bit. “Convinced?”

“Not yet.” He grinned and she laughed before capturing his mouth again in a kiss that would never be mistaken for a mere dream. He felt the kiss in every part of him, especially deep down in his soul. Would he really get to have this woman?

Erik broke free of the kiss and turned to Mifraine. “So I won. What does that mean exactly? What does that mean for Liddy and me?”

Mifraine floated over to them. “It means Flidae can be a goddess who keeps a human form. She will have all the rights and privileges that humans and goddesses enjoy. It means that you, Erik Rheagan, don’t die today.” She waved a hand toward Lio. “It means you have gotten your name and the names of your pack members off the tarnished souls list. You’ve all been redeemed.”

With a quick bow, Lio’s black wings erupted from his back and he soared into the sky. In a matter of seconds, the god of dead souls was gone.

“It means the two of you are free to do whatever you want with the human time you have together.” Mifraine motioned for Vrith to follow her as she walked away. A moment later she turned to face Liddy and Erik again. “Don’t waste a second. Take full advantage of these opportunities for they aren’t earned often.”

Mifraine and Vrith floated away from them in a mist of golden light. Little by little, the gods and goddesses who had been watching filed out and what remained of the Dúshlán arena melted out of view.

All except Gwyd who made his way to them. “Congratulations.” He extended a hand to Erik and the two shook. “I knew anyone capable of turning Flidae’s head had to be capable of other great deeds.”

“I think I got lucky.” Erik raked his hand through his hair and scratched at his beard. Now that the adrenaline rush of being in the Dúshlán was winding down, he was cold, his bare arms covered in goosebumps. He shivered and instantly a T-shirt appeared on his torso.

“That’s going to come in handy, isn’t it?” Liddy beamed a smile at him.

“Aye. Can you make a beer appear too?”

“I’m sure something can be arranged.” Liddy leaned against him. “But I want you nice and sober for the celebrating we’re going to do.”

Gwyd clamped his hands over his ears. “You could warn me when you’re going to say things like that.” He smiled and hugged Liddy. “Enjoy this gift, wild goddess. You have chosen wisely. May you and your wolf find much happiness together.”

“It’s because of you that I figured out what I wanted,” Liddy said, squeezing Gwyd close. “Thank you.”

“You ended up with a much better deal than I could give you.” Gwyd shook Erik’s hand again. “Take care of her. You may have noticed she’s a handful.” He winked at Liddy then faded away into a blue fog.

Erik pulled Liddy against him, not able to stand the small distance between them. He kissed her until they simply had to come up for air. “I never thought I’d get to hold you like this again, kiss you,” he buried his nose in her hair, “smell you.”

“I thought I was about to witness your end, my knight.” Her voice cut out as a few tears dripped down her cheeks.

He caught the tears. “Not today, my lady. Today is the beginning.”

Liddy slid her hands up his arms and rested them at the back of his neck. “Then let’s begin.”

A white mist swirled around their feet and suddenly they were in a lush garden filled with lilacs and wildflowers and birds and butterflies. The warm air was perfumed, the sun filtering through green treetops and making everything glow golden.

“What is this place?” Erik turned in a circle. He’d never been anywhere quite so beautiful.

“It’s where I call home when in this realm, but I can make it look any way you wish.” Liddy waved a hand and the garden changed to a sandy beach, foamy waves tickling their feet. Another wave and the beach shifted to a mountain peak, snow falling all around them. A third wave and the peak became a city scene, a gentle rain sprinkling over them.

Erik scrunched up his shoulders against the wetness. “Okay, okay. I think I prefer the garden and the sunshine.”

Liddy laughed and changed the landscape back to the garden. “This one’s my favorite too. Something about the sun here makes me feel at peace.”

“I want to share this sun with you.”

“We’ll share everything.” Liddy hugged him. “As a goddess still, I have the power to take us anywhere you want to go in the human realm. Back to Ireland, back to Rhode Island or Vermont, somewhere you haven’t been yet. Home can be wherever we want.”

“I want home to be wherever you are.” He ran his hands along her hips and joined them at the small of her back, pressing her against him. “I want to go back to Ireland to check on Rianne. I want to go back to Rhode Island to make sure Thomas and the marina are all right. I want to go back to Vermont and be with my pack. I want to find somewhere we can call our own as we enjoy each other. Somewhere we can be werewolves, goddesses, humans, everything. I want to find a place where we can watch the sun rise and know we have another whole day together.”

“We can do all that, Erik. All that and more.”

“Good.” He lightly bit her earlobe. “But right now there’s only one thing I want to do and right here will be fine.”

Liddy grinned, the indigo of her eyes nearly gone as her pupils zipped open in desire. With another wave of her hands, white lattice surrounded the garden. Thick vines with purple flowers on them wove over the lattice until anything beyond the barrier went unseen from inside.

“Figured we needed some privacy.” She nipped at his bottom lip.

“Aye. Do not disturb. Soul mates at work.” He trailed kisses along her neck.“I love you, Liddy.”

“I love you, Erik.”

With a growl, he released Liddy and then pounced on her, loving the sound of her laughter as she tried to squirm away from him.

Not away. Toward. Always toward you, my knight.

Erik loosened his hold again and spun Liddy around to face him. “I heard you!”

“What?”

He tapped his temple. I heard you up here.

Liddy’s eyes widened. Further confirmation we’re really soul mates.

We already knew.

Aye, we already knew. But it was damn nice to have it be official.

Chapter Seventeen

Having Erik in her arms again was the only thing Liddy had wanted. She never expected to actually have that wish granted though. Not after seeing what the Dúshlán had involved. Not after watching him encounter the creatures in the maze, feeling the heat of the burning coals he’d had to walk across, and hearing the choice Lio had given Erik regarding his pack members. Gwyd had been right.

Miracles do happen.

The fact that Erik was here—in her realm, her garden—also surprised her. She’d been alone in that space for so long. She’d always considered it perfect, but having Erik there with her now showed her the true definition of perfect.

That perfect was feeling pretty damn wonderful. Especially as Erik’s tongue teased her nipples. Being with Erik physically as a human had been amazing. Being with him as a goddess in a human body was extraordinary.

I feel that way too, he thought as he pressed kisses to the valley between her breasts, his beard scraping lightly along her ultra-sensitive flesh. This connection is more than we had before. This connection is amazing.

It warmed her to know his pleasure matched hers. She also loved that they were able to be in each other’s heads again. She’d missed that link.

“That’s because we are a perfect match,” Erik said. “That’s what soul mates are.”

“Aye. I don’t see how two souls could be more bonded.” She wrapped her arms around his back then raked her nails along his spine, causing him to shudder in her hold.

They’d stretched out on a bed Liddy had conjured up for them. Purple and white rose petals covered the satin sheets and the smell of them along with the lilacs surrounded Erik and Liddy. Warm sunshine still filtered in over the lattice barrier she’d put in place, but its brilliance was fading, a reminder that they needed to get back to the human world.

“But we have time to celebrate first,” Erik said. “Then we’ll check on everyone who needs checking on and get on with our own lives.”

“Together.” Liddy rolled them so Erik was on his back and she straddled his hips, his impressive erection ready and waiting.

“Aye, together.”

Not wanting to deny the man his prize for winning the Dúshlán any longer, Liddy wrapped her hand around Erik’s arousal, making his hazel eyes roll upward before they closed. A soft, low growl purred out of his throat before she’d even moved.

“That’s it?” she asked. “That’s all you want?” She tightened her hand. “Just hold on?”

Erik shook his head, nearly the definition of thrashing. “Not even close, Liddy. Not even close.”

She giggled and gave him a few good pumps, earning more sexy noises from him. His hands fisted the sheets beneath him, but his gaze never left hers. They were connected by so much more than the physical.

Erik brought his hips up slightly. “Physical, emotional, mental. Our connection is all that and more.” He tugged on her hair. “Right now, though, I want to come inside you, Liddy. I need to.”

She wasn’t going to argue. She needed the same. She had to have him inside her, showing her how much he loved her. This would be the proof that they were actually getting their forever together.

Liddy rose to her knees and slowly slid herself onto his arousal. It felt so right to be this close to Erik, this joined, this united. She wouldn’t have been able to go on without him. If he’d lost the Dúshlán, her life would have lost its meaning. Aye, she was a goddess, but with her glimpse into the intimacies of the human world, she could never return to her previous way of life. Not with the knowledge she now had. Not with experiencing the love of a man like Erik.

His big hands slid from her thighs, over to her hips, and up to her breasts. He palmed them both, kneading, massaging, caressing her in ways she wanted to repeat over and over and over. The coarse skin of his thumbs stimulated her nipples to tight buds, and every swipe made her push against his hands more.

Letting his hands slide back down to her hips, he clamped on and slowly pumped in and out, in and out, his movements precise and his hazel gaze trained on her face. That intense focus reached down deep into Liddy, firing her core from the inside and building the pressure, such delightful pressure.

She bent forward and fused her mouth with his, her tongue seeking entrance then relishing the velvety feel of his tongue against hers. He smelled like wildlife to her and at first she thought it was the setting she’d created around them. Then she realized it was Erik himself, her wild thing, that had a scent like the untamed outdoors.

No better scent existed.

Erik’s hands found their way to her bottom and his movements now had him going deeper, deeper, deep enough to start shockwaves undulating throughout her body. Their connection had such magnitude, such permanence that she hardly felt as if their bodies could handle the size of it all. Eventually they’d have to shatter, aye?

And she didn’t care. If their lovemaking caused her to break apart on the wild orgasm she knew was coming, certainly that same lovemaking could put the pieces back together. What they were doing right now had such power.

Erik shifted a bit and after a slight growl, his claws pressed into her skin. Not enough to hurt or cause punctures, but enough to further arouse her. His canine teeth slipped past his lower lip and his eyes glowed a radiant honey-green that reminded her of Erik’s sweetness and his virility. He was a tender man. He was also a warrior and a werewolf.

Most importantly, he was hers.

I only want to be yours, Liddy. Forever.

Even his voice inside her head caressed her, causing her desire to reach new heights. She was ready to explode.

A few more thrusts into her, a few more hot kisses, a few more growls of pleasure—from them both—and suddenly they were soaring on eagle wings, higher, higher. Higher than the treetops, the clouds, the blue sky, and whatever lay beyond that. They were more than the sum of their parts, more than two bodies locked in bliss, more than two hearts beating in time with one another.

They were something new. Something only the two of them could be.

Erik’s name tore from Liddy’s throat as she peaked, stars bursting behind her eyelids. She collapsed beside him, the satin sheets cool against her overheated body.

After slowly extracting himself, he rolled to his side, using a finger to push her hair behind her ear. “Tell me we can do that daily.”

“I was thinking hourly.”

His bark of laughter bounced off the walls of her heart, a sound she’d love listening to for a lifetime.

“Luckily, werewolves have such stamina.” Erik kissed her nose.

“So do goddesses.” She arched an eyebrow at him.

A slow smile spread across Erik’s lips. “Is that a challenge, my lady?” He propped himself up on an elbow and played with her hair.

“Maybe.”

Before she knew what was happening, Erik jumped to his feet and scooped her up in his arms. “Change the setting. I want to make this interesting.”

Laughing, she waved her hand and the garden changed to a tropical beach at sunset. The water glowed a deep orange, gentle waves lapping against white sand while palm trees whispered around them in a warm breeze.

“Will this do?” she asked.

Sinking to his knees and placing her on a soft blanket she’d conjured, Erik hovered over her. “Aye. Just what I had in mind... for starters.”

Liddy closed her eyes. If Erik wanted to go all night in different settings, she was definitely interested in that ride. Her mind was already suggesting other suitable landscapes.

“Now, now,” Erik chided. “You keep your mind on the here and now, my lady. Don’t want you to miss anything.”

And she didn’t.

They made love in so many settings, she grew dizzy from orgasm overload. Not that she was complaining. She felt terrific, alive, loved. All because of this incredible man snuggled up next to her now.

Erik slept soundly in their last setting—a sailboat drifting on the calmest of seas. They were both cuddled together as they stretched out on the deck, the morning sky beginning to lighten as the stars faded from view. The only sounds were those of a few ducks holding a meeting near the shore.

Liddy had spent the last thirty minutes watching Erik sleep. She’d watched him sleep before they’d become soul mates, specifically enjoying when he was in wolf form and curled up into a tight rusty red ball. Now that she had him naked and asleep, however... well, that might be her favorite way to watch him.

He must have sensed her ogling because he stirred, his eyes slowly opening and immediately looking up at her.

“Hey.” He scrubbed a hand down his face then sat up abruptly, darting his gaze around their surroundings. “Remind me that I’m not dreaming. That the Dúshlán is over. That I’m alive and we’re really together.”

She sat up beside him, took his hands in hers, and said slowly, “This is not a dream. The Dúshlán is over and you won. You’re alive and we’re really together.”

Erik puffed out a long breath. “How long before I accept all that? I don’t want to waste any time questioning the gift we’ve been given.”

“The gift you earned for us,” she corrected.

He leaned over and nipped at her earlobe, his mouth warm and possessive. “What time is it?”

“Time?” She chuckled. “No time here, my knight. We can drop back to the human world at whatever time you want.”

Erik’s brows scrunched together. “Any time at all?

Liddy nodded, assuming he was about to ask to go to Ireland of the past to see his sister, but a quick read of his thoughts led her in a different direction. She shook her head after listening.

“We can go to any time in the past, but we can’t change things. That’s not how it works. Anything can happen in the future, but the past is set. Think about what would happen if it wasn’t.” She shifted to sit on her bent legs, her knees touching Erik’s. “If you went back to when you made the decision to join Reardon and chose not to join him, you’d unravel everything that led you to this point. Your father might not have met Rianne’s mother in your absence, and your sister wouldn’t exist. Reardon might not have changed his men into werewolves and you wouldn’t have become one of my wild things and so on. Everything would be different. Some of it would turn out better, but some of it wouldn’t so we don’t mess with the past.”

Erik nodded. “That makes sense. I guess I’d only want to change what happened to Thomas and the lighthouse.” He scratched at his beard then ran his hands through his hair. “We should check on him first.”

“Before Rianne?”

“Aye. From what Gwyd told you, it doesn’t sound as if Rianne is at death’s door, but Thomas...” Erik cleared his throat and looked away for a moment. “Thomas could be.”

With another wave of her hands, the sailboat and sea setting disappeared. A white mist surrounded them both and when it dissipated, Erik and Liddy stood on Dock 5 at White Marina. They were both fully dressed, and Wild Thing was back in its slip.

Erik raised an eyebrow at the sailboat. “You want the boat?”

Liddy nodded. “Some good memories happened on that boat.”

“Wonderful memories.” Erik pulled her into a tight embrace. “And we’ll make so many more.”

They walked hand and hand to the marina office where Marie immediately greeted them with a big smile. “Back so soon, Erik?”

Erik slid a quick glance to Liddy. “Aye. We... umm...”

“Decided we wanted to see how Thomas was faring,” Liddy said.

Good quick thinking, my lady.

She squeezed his hand, not letting go. She never intended to let go.

“Well, good news.” Marie clapped her hands, her exuberance contagious. “Thomas is awake!”

Erik let out a whoop that sounded a little like the yip of a happy wolf. “Is he going to be all right?”

“Of course.” Marie waved a hand. “You know how those old crusty sailor types are. They don’t go until they’re damn ready to go. Thomas decided he wasn’t ready.”

A wave of... something washed over Liddy. She closed her eyes and used a little goddess power to make sense of what she was picking up from Marie.

“You helped him decide he wasn’t ready. You have feelings for Thomas,” she announced.

Marie’s cheeks flamed red. “I... uhh... I mean... well...”

Erik rounded the front counter and pulled Marie into a hug. “Don’t be shy about it. We think you’d be perfect for Thomas.”

“We’re a couple of old seabirds.” Marie smoothed the front of her T-shirt and busied herself with organizing a stack of papers that were already appropriately neatened. “What’s the sense in having feelings now?”

Liddy joined them behind the front desk. “The sense is in the answer to this question. Does having feelings for Thomas make you feel alive inside?”

Marie drew in a deep breath then exhaled. “More alive than I’ve felt in years.”

Liddy looked at Erik. “I know the feeling.”

****

Riding in the marina truck with Liddy squished against his side, Erik was still having trouble believing the events that had unfolded. A few weeks ago, he’d been living a boring existence, working at the marina by day and hiding out in the lighthouse by night. He didn’t have any friends besides Thomas, he hated his coworkers, and missed his sister. His werewolf wanted to run free, but it was too dangerous. He never thought he’d do something worthy. Something that would send him back home.

But now home was wherever Liddy was. He had himself a goddess-level human. One who loved him and one he’d spend the rest of his life making happy.

“You’re off to a good start on that promise.” Liddy rested her head on Erik’s shoulder and he breathed in her lilac scent. That fragrance made him envision their earlier lovemaking and blood rushed southward in his body at the memory. He shifted a bit in his seat and Liddy chuckled softly.

“You think what you do to me is funny?” He nudged her with his elbow, but kept his eyes on the road. It was still morning here—which was odd after all the lovemaking he and Liddy had done. They’d pleasured each other enough times to last most people months, maybe more, and yet, simply recalling that total bliss aroused him again.

“I think it’s a little bit funny.” Liddy held up her thumb and forefinger, keeping them about an inch apart.

“We’ll see how funny it is when you’re beneath me later, writhing in need and desire, and maybe I need to go make a sandwich or something.”

Liddy’s head popped off his shoulder. “Erik Rheagan, you wouldn’t do that.”

He bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing or responding.

“Erik!” Liddy’s fist connected with his bicep and he couldn’t contain his laughter any longer.

“All right, all right. I’ll only leave you in that condition long enough to get a glass of water.”

Another fist landed on his arm, but Liddy was smiling now. “I don’t think you should tease a goddess.”

“Probably wise advice.” He wiggled his shoulder so she’d put her head back on it. “Much better to kiss a goddess, caress a goddess, make love to a goddess.”

“I approve of this thinking.”

She settled in at his side again and soon Erik was pulling the truck into the hospital parking lot. They got out, made their way into the hospital, and found out Thomas’s room number. As they walked down a corridor, Liddy took his hand and squeezed.

“You’re a good friend to Thomas,” she said.

He shook his head. “No. A good friend would have been at the lighthouse to save him and the building.”

“You can’t blame yourself. The fault lies solely with those bastards.” Liddy puffed out a breath. “Now that I have my goddess powers back, I should pay them all a little visit in jail.”

“That’s in the past where we both should leave it.” That sounded like the right thing to say, but his fingertips tingled as his claws threatened to come out.

Liddy squeezed his hand. “Aye. You’re right. Let’s only move forward.”

He brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

They found Thomas sitting up in bed in his room and Erik sifted out a breath of relief over how good the man looked.

“Erik, Liddy!” Thomas’s smile lit up the room. “Come, come. Sit.” He gestured to the chairs in the corner.

“It’s wonderful to see you looking so well.” Liddy rubbed Thomas’s forearm then leaned down to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“I feel so well too.” He held out a hand to shake Erik’s, but then pulled a little so he could hug Erik. “You’re looking well too, son.” He released Erik and arched an eyebrow at Liddy. “I’m willing to bet she’s the reason.”

“Aye. She is.” Erik took a seat next to Liddy and rested his hand on her knee.

Thomas beamed as he clapped. “And she just fell into your lap. You’re a pretty lucky guy.”

Aye. It’s not like I had to face monsters, walk over burning coals, or nearly have my soul collected by the god of dead souls to get her.

Liddy made a small noise in her throat, but Thomas didn’t hear her. A lass has to make her lad work to prove his love.

There had to be an easier way. And with that thought, Erik suddenly felt very tired. After the Dúshlán, he hadn’t had any time to relax because he’d gone right into celebration mode with Liddy. He had slept soundly after their marathon lovemaking, but if he thought about it, he could probably sleep for a solid week.

“So how long do you have to stay here?” Liddy asked.

“Doctors say another day or so. They want to make sure this old noodle isn’t on the fritz.” He knocked his knuckles against the top of his head then shrugged. “Aside from this busted up leg, I feel fine though. I am fine.”

“Well, Liddy and I can pick you up,” Erik said. “The marina office has made good living conditions, so you can stay there, while we stay on Liddy’s boat.” It wasn’t an ideal situation for Thomas, but it could work until another home could be built where the lighthouse remains still stood.

Thomas held up a hand. “Actually... I have a place to stay.”

“You do? Where?” Erik leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. As far as he knew, Thomas didn’t have any family.

Liddy laughed.“Judging by the color staining Thomas’s cheeks, I’ll bet I can guess where this mystery invitation came from. Does it start with Marie and end with Oasis Marina?”

Thomas brought up the blankets covering his legs and hid slightly behind them, only his eyes peeking out. “Maybe,” came his muffled reply.

“You salty sea dog.” Erik wagged a finger at him. “Even with head trauma you managed to snag the lass.”

Thomas dropped the blankets. “I think the head trauma improved my game, Erik.”

All three of them chuckled now, but then Thomas grew serious. “Marie has been wonderful, coming to see me, fussing all over me...”

“Helping at White Marina,” Erik added.

“She’s a real sweetheart, ain’t she?” The love Thomas had for Marie shined brightly in his eyes.

“She definitely is,” Liddy added. “She’s helped all three of us at some point or another over the past few days.”

Thomas nodded then focused on Erik. “So you see, kid, you can stop worrying about me, okay?”

Erik opened his mouth to protest, but Thomas silenced him with a raised eyebrow.

“You don’t have to take care of me. I’m going to be okay.” Thomas scratched his bushy beard. “Better than okay.”

Erik and Liddy stayed for an hour and by the end of the time, Erik was convinced Thomas had meant what he’d said. The old man would be all right. He even had plans to sell White Marina and help Marie manage Oasis Marina instead.

“Neither Marie nor I are spring chickens, kids. We ought to be lessening our workloads and enjoying life,” he’d said.

Enjoying life. Erik couldn’t disagree with that. And now that he had Liddy, he could do exactly that.

After one more stop.

At the truck in the hospital parking lot, Erik took Liddy’s hands in his. “I’m ready to go back to Ireland. Just to check on Rianne. If she’s all right, I think the best place for us is—”

“In Vermont. With the pack,” Liddy finished.

“Aye.”

She drummed her fingertips on Erik’s forehead. “I figured all those thoughts swimming about in there were going to end at that conclusion. Brandy has already sent me information on a piece of land near Silver Moon, and we can pop a house—whatever kind you want—there.” She wiggled her fingers indicating she could use her magick.

Erik wrapped his arms around Liddy. “Or we could use magick to put up a temporary shelter until we can actually build something with our own two hands. Anyone can have a house.” He squeezed her closer and kissed the top of her head. “I want to build a home with you, Liddy. One that is filled with love.”

“I don’t see how it could be filled with anything else.” Liddy leaned back a little and captured his mouth with hers.

Erik backed her up against the truck and the kiss reached sizzle level in record time. When a low growl of need rumbled out of him, he broke away, loving how Liddy appeared breathless.

A few raindrops fell and Erik urged her into the truck from the driver’s side. She scooted across the console and sat in the passenger’s seat. He climbed in as the skies opened up, fat drops exploding on the windshield and hood, beating out a water-logged rhythm that was oddly peaceful.

“I guess that’s it for the sun,” Erik said as he peered out the windows.

Liddy’s hand came to rest on his forearm. “No. We always have the sun.” She pressed her palm to his chest. “A wild wolf sun, keeping us warm.”

Erik kissed her hand. “And you never have to worry about that light going out. Never. It will burn for you. Always.”

Epilogue

Two months later...

Leaves crunched under their paws, a red-gold-orange carpet of October splendor. As they neared Silver Moon’s grounds, the scent of apple pie traveled on the cool breeze.

Gran’s here, Emma thought as she ran alongside Kole. Gran, who had finally been let in on the secret of werewolves thanks to Liddy who had allowed it. Amazingly, Emma’s grandmother had been open-minded about the whole thing.

Kylie let out a little whoop. I’m having ice cream with my apple pie!

The kid has good ideas, Kole said.

Erik nudged Liddy—who was able to use her goddess powers to join them in wolf form as a shimmery white wolf. She was the most beautiful creature Erik had ever seen and running with Liddy like this had become one of his favorite things to do.

Of course any activity in which Liddy was also there had become a favorite.

They’d traveled to Ireland and spent some time with Rianne who had been overjoyed to see Erik again. She had thought he was dead and their reunion had been amazing. He’d come clean about what he’d done for work as a warrior, expecting Rianne to disapprove, but the lass had only hugged her big brother tighter and said, “We’re on some paths for a reason.”

Erik had been surprised to learn Liddy had arranged for Rianne’s path to lead his sister to becoming a lady’s maid, a role she loved. Her lady was kind and more like the mother Rianne deserved. It was because of this Erik was able to leave Rianne and come back to this time.

“Rianne can take care of herself,” he’d said to Liddy. “Thanks to your help.”

Liddy had shaken her head. “No, more like someone taught her well about survival.”

Maybe he had rubbed off on her a little. Whatever the case, he’d vowed to visit his sister several times a year, and Rianne made him promise to bring Liddy when he came. His goddess was good at charming everyone.

The wolves spilled into the field behind Brandy and Reardon’s cabin where Dylan was waiting on the patio with Brandy’s mother and Emma’s grandmother. Meredith held up a mug of cider in salute.

“The kid and I were considering eating all this pie ourselves, weren’t we?” She elbowed Dylan.

“Yeah. Wolves don’t like apple pie, do they?” Dylan laughed when Kylie let out a whimper. “Don’t worry. We won’t start without you, but only humans are allowed at the table.”

All the wolves took off in different directions toward where they’d hidden their clothes before the run while Jessica flew in raven form after Shawn. Erik nipped at Liddy’s heels as they raced to the big boulder by the side of the cabin. He shifted as the familiar white mist surrounded Liddy. When it faded, she was standing naked before him.

“Do we really need apple pie?” He pulled her up against him and dropped kisses along her bare shoulder.

“Need? Probably not.” Liddy let out a soft moan when Erik nibbled on her earlobe. “But my want for apple pie is pretty strong.”

“Stronger than your want for me?” He pulled back a bit to look her in the eyes. Those indigo eyes held such love for him. He saw it every time she gazed at him. Gods, he was a lucky man.

“Maybe a bit.” Liddy laughed when he poked her in the ribs. “Since tasting Gran’s cooking at the big McMannus double wedding last weekend, I’ve been dreaming about eating more of it.”

“Get dressed then, before I lose control of myself and carry you off.”

“You can lose control later... when there’s no more pie.”

Erik bared his teeth and growled at her as he pulled on his pants and thermal T-shirt.

In a few minutes, after they both were dressed, they arrived on the patio where the others were already gathered around the pies Gran had made.

“Took you long enough,” Jaemus mumbled. “Have trouble getting your clothes back on, Erik?”

Nika swatted at Jaemus’s shoulder. “Cut them a break. When we first got together, I seem to recall someone taking every chance available to—”

Jaemus reached behind him and pulled Nika into his lap. “All right, all right. No need for details, sprite. I think we all know where my efforts got us.” He rubbed the small mound of Nika’s belly and planted a loud, sloppy kiss on his soul mate’s mouth, effectively quieting her.

“Ah, the soul mate bond,” Shawn said, throwing his arm around Jessica’s shoulders. “Nothing else like it in the world, aye, Mrs. McMannus?”

“Nothing else, Mr. McMannus.” Jessica snuggled up next to her new husband.

“Nothing else like Gran’s apple pie either,” Kole said.

“Secret family recipe,” Gran said with a chuckle.

“I’ll get it out of you one of these days,” Emma said, hugging her grandmother before the woman went into the house to grab more napkins.

Meredith held up a knife. “Okay, who’s in?”

Several me responses circled around the group and as soon as they were all properly outfitted with pie and cider, Erik stood and said, “I’d like to make a toast if I may.” He smoothed the front of his shirt, suddenly nervous with all the gazes of his pack and their soul mates on him.

With the gaze of his soul mate on him.

But this was right. This was what was meant to be. Hadn’t he known since the first time he’d laid eyes on Liddy? Hadn’t he known they were destined to share their lives? Hadn’t he known no one would be better suited for him than her?

Hadn’t he wanted to ask her this one question since she’d said she loved him?

“Although I never could have predicted I’d become a werewolf living in Vermont—because no one ever predicts such things—I can’t imagine being anything else now. I’m surrounded by my pack, which is undoubtedly the finest pack ever created.”

The group around him clapped, cheered... and howled their agreement.

“I’ve got woods to run through whenever I want. I’ve got a home that is nearly built and waiting to be filled. I’ve got a job at Warrior Construction where I can put all these muscles to use.” He flexed and Liddy fanned herself while the rest of them laughed or rolled their eyes. “I have a purpose now. One that doesn’t involve bloodshed.”

“Unless you’re Shawn,” Kole corrected. “He seems to leave a little of his blood behind at every job site.”

“Shut it.” Shawn held up a fist to his brother. “I can’t help it. You lads make me do all the dangerous stuff.”

A couple of friendly jeers rose from the men toward each other until Nika reminded them Erik was in the middle of his toast. Of course, Nika also knew how the toast ended because she’d been his number one helper in organizing the question he wanted to ask Liddy.

“Thank you, Nika, for settling these brutes.” Erik smiled. “As I was saying, I’ve got a great many things in my life that I’m so grateful for. I’m happy. For the first time in my life, I’m good and truly happy.” He pulled Liddy out of her seat and held her hand as she stood next to him. “There’s only one more thing I need.”

Slowly, he sunk to his knees and Liddy’s gorgeous indigo eyes bugged as her mouth dropped open. “Erik...”

“Say you don’t mind spending your life with an overgrown dog, Liddy. Say you’ll marry me and I promise to love you forever.” He pulled a small jack-o-lantern off the patio table and held it up to her. He grabbed the stem and opened the top like a little lid.

When he angled the pumpkin toward Liddy so she could see inside, she gasped, her hands going to her mouth.

She reached in and pulled out a ring with a big amethyst in the center surrounded by diamonds in a silver setting. Celtic knots made up the band.

“Oh, Erik.” Liddy held the ring out to him.

“A ring fit for a goddess, no?” he asked, taking the ring and sliding it onto her finger.

“You’re a man fit for a goddess.” She pulled him up to standing and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him so tightly he thought he might pass out. “Aye, I’ll marry you, my knight. I’ll marry you and we’ll live an extraordinary life together.”

Erik hugged her close. “That’s the only way to live, my lady.”

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One Kind Ride (Book Four)

One Kind Note (Book Five)

One Kind Wish (Book Six)

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Read on for a peek at ONE KIND HEART!

Want to see how good love tastes in New England?

Check out the Maple Leaf Series!

Contemporary Romance

More Than Pancakes (Book One)

More Than Cookies (Book Two)

More Than Rum (Book Three)

More Than Pizza (Book Four)

More Than Candy Corn (A Halloween Novella)

More Than Cocoa (Book Five)

More Than Peaches (Book Six)

Other Available Titles by Christine DePetrillo

Alaska Heart

Firefly Mountain

Kisses to Remember

Abra Cadaver

Lazuli Moon

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Read on for a peek at ONE KIND HEART!

ONE KIND HEART

Sneak Peek

Contemporary Romance

Chapter One

Dakota Brenton liked good deeds. He did. Really. Today, however, his most recent good deed felt more like a punishment.

The sun was warm, not quite ready to let go of another amazing Vermont summer, though September had already arrived. Dakota scanned the treetops, noting the yellows, reds, and oranges just beginning to announce autumn’s intentions. He loved summertime the most, but each season that unfolded in the small town of Maplehaven had its gifts to share. His company, Birch Peak Adventures, made optimal use of those gifts as it brought interested folks closer to nature with biking, boating, ATVing, snowmobiling, hiking, snowshoeing, ziplining, and any other active outside experience a person could want. Dakota’s mission in life was to help people enjoy the outdoors.

Wish I were doing that right now.

Instead he was standing beside his father, William Brenton, on a stage with Brenton Lake as the backdrop, listening as the mayor droned on and on and on. Sure, it was awesome Dakota’s father had donated all the wood products necessary to rebuild Maplehaven Elementary School after a fire had destroyed it, but why couldn’t one of his sisters have attended this ribbon-cutting event? Why did he have to waste an outstanding day hearing how wonderful Brenton Sawmill was to do such a kind deed for the town’s youngsters? He didn’t even work at his father’s sawmill.

Not on a regular basis anyway.

Dakota had helped with the school rebuild because he had the know-how and his father had asked him to get involved. Saying no to William Brenton was never easy, though Dakota had done it on several occasions. The most monumental time he’d said no had been when he’d told his father he didn’t want to oversee operations at Brenton Sawmill. William had naturally assumed the company would be passed down to his only son. The sawmill employed a good deal of Maplehaven’s current residents and had its origins back in 1798 when the town was first settled by the Brenton family.

“I love working with wood, Dad,” Dakota had told him eight years ago on his twenty-fifth birthday, “but I don’t want to make wood my life. I need to be out there.” He’d gestured to the woods surrounding their family home. “I need to explore.”

His mother, Chenoa “Chennie” Brenton, had nodded as if she’d known this would be the case all along, which she probably had. Part Abenaki, Chennie had been the one to inspire a love of nature in Dakota. Most of his favorite childhood memories revolved around being outdoors with his mother.

“He’s a free spirit,” she’d told William. “He will not be happy at the sawmill. My boy has got to wander.”

William had studied Dakota for a long moment, a brief expression of sadness flitting across his face. It’d been immediately replaced, however, by his typical smile. “I understand, son. A man’s got to follow his own path.” He’d puffed out a breath. “Maybe your sisters want the sawmill.”

And they had. Both of them. Twins, Dena and Jacy Brenton had always done everything together. From being soccer stars all through school to getting good grades to driving identical cars at some points in their lives, the two of them practically shared one mind. Though it happened all the time, it always freaked Dakota when they said exactly the same thing at exactly the same moment.

When the twins had turned twenty-five six years ago, William had called them into his office at the sawmill and proposed the same deal he’d proposed to Dakota. The meeting had ended with the three of them doing a group hug and Dakota breathing a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to give up on his dream, but he probably would have if his sisters hadn’t saved him.

He wasn’t feeling particularly saved today though.

Today he couldn’t help feeling like a caged black bear who wanted to head for the woods instead of putting on a show for the well-meaning audience. When was this thing going to end?

“This is what makes Maplehaven the wonderful town that it is,” the mayor said. “A need arises and kind hearts step forward to attend to that need. Because of the generosity of William Brenton, our youngsters will enjoy a state of the art elementary school—one built at a fraction of the cost thanks to Brenton Sawmill, a company that has allowed Maplehaven to thrive in so many ways since 1798. We owe so much to the sawmill and the real-life heroes that run it.”

Real-life heroes? Dakota could just hear his father bringing that one up again and again. Nothing fueled William like a good compliment—a trait Chennie exploited on a regular basis whenever she wanted Dakota’s dad to do something. Thinking of all the times his mother had told his father he was dashing to get him to take out the trash made a smile turn up Dakota’s lips. He wondered if a woman would ever have power like that over him.

And did he want that?

Of course not. He had no desire to be manipulated or controlled. He did what he wanted when he wanted and with whomever he wanted. Stomping through the woods, rowing across lakes, zipping along trails, and soaring over mountain peaks with tour groups filled his days and sometimes nights. He could lead a group out at any time and not have to worry about being home for dinner or that someone was waiting for him. His schedule was determined by him—and by his best friend and office manager, Krista Davidson—and he liked it that way. He answered to no one and was free to roam where he pleased which involved regular trips out of Vermont to see the world.

Free spirit. Just as his mother had said. He dated, but Maplehaven was a small town, secluded from neighboring ones by three giant mountains—Birch Peak, Mount Woodrich, and of course, Brenton Mountain—that surrounded Brenton Lake and kept the town in a safe embrace. He’d lived here his whole life and hadn’t met a woman who could keep him still long enough to fall in love. Even in his travels outside of Vermont, he hadn’t found someone who caught his attention and certainly no one to make him consider calling anywhere but Maplehaven his home.

A sharp elbow to his side drew Dakota out of his thoughts. He gave his dad a sideways glance then tuned back in to the mayor’s never-ending speech.

Wait. Why wasn’t the mayor still speaking? And why was he looking expectantly at Dakota? Why was every eye in the crowd on him?

“What is wrong with you?” his father whispered. “Go to the podium, son.”

Shit. He’d missed his introduction. Time to pour on the old Brenton charm.

Dakota pulled down his sunglasses so they rested on the tip of his nose and pretended to survey the crowd. He spent a few moments pretending to judge the attendees then sauntered to the podium, a few chuckles emanating from the audience—an audience full of people Dakota knew by name. Every one of them had come through the doors of Birch Peak Adventures or Brenton Sawmill or the house his parents still kept on Birch Peak Road at one time or another. Folks in Maplehaven were more family than neighbors.

When he reached the microphone, he gave the crowd a Brenton smile and said, “This is a good-looking crowd.”

The audience erupted with hoots and hollers and Dakota’s dad laughed behind him with the mayor. Good. He didn’t want to be here right now, but he didn’t want to muck up his father’s moment either. William worked hard and truly cared about Maplehaven. It showed in every act he did, every free plank of wood he’d donated to the new school, every example he set for Dakota and his sisters. Dakota may not have wanted to work at a sawmill like his father, but he wanted to be like William in every other way. Real-life hero. Hopefully he was well on his way to achieving that goal.

“And a good-looking crowd deserves a good-looking school for its children.” Dakota gestured to the building to the left of the crowd. “Brenton Sawmill was happy to donate wood to this project because it’s an investment in the future. The learning that will take place inside the walls of the new Maplehaven Elementary School will set the next generation on the path to success. We wish Principal Myers, all the faculty and staff, and most importantly, each and every student a fun and exciting first year.”

He backed away from the podium to thunderous applause and took his spot beside his father.

“Nice job, son,” William whispered.

Dakota gave his dad a wink and went back to scanning the crowd as Principal Myers took command of the microphone and launched into her speech.

Good Lord, I’m not going to make it. The gentle lapping of Brenton Lake against the shore behind him was a siren song, tempting him to grab his canoe and get some good rowing in. Too soon the temperatures would drop and toasty sunshine would be gone for months. Maybe if he stepped off the back of the stage he could make a run for it.

“William, Dakota, will you join me in cutting the ribbon on our new school?” Principal Myers asked.

“Of course,” William said. “We’d be honored.”

No slipping away now.

Containing his sigh, Dakota followed his dad and the principal over to the front entrance of the school where two temporary poles had been set up for the sole purpose of stringing a ribbon between them. Seemed silly to Dakota, but in this small town, folks got excited about ceremonies and planned every detail. Two students, a boy and a girl, waited as Principal Myers took a ridiculously large pair of scissors from the mayor. She asked the children to hold one handle loop of the scissors with her while instructing Dakota and his dad to take the other loop.

“Okay, Molly and Jacob,” the principal said, “give us a three count.”

The children dutifully counted to three and snip. The ribbon was cut to the sound of more hooting and hollering and clapping from the audience.

“I’d like to invite everyone in,” Principal Myers said. “Take a look around. See what a good deed looks like in action.” She gave William and Dakota a huge smile, her eyes a little glossy, and Dakota thought back to the meeting where his dad had offered to donate the wood.

They’d been sitting at a monthly town council meeting, debating what to do after the first school had burned down due to a direct lightning strike. Fortunately the destruction had happened when no one was in the building, but losing the place that had educated most of them as youngsters still felt like a tragedy.

“We could use available space in some other town buildings,” Principal Myers had said, “but we’ll have to separate the students by grade level, I guess. A grade in the upstairs conference room at the bank. Another in the community space at the library. A few adjustments at the high school would free up some rooms, I suppose.” She’d rubbed her forehead, no doubt tired from trying to problem solve around this disaster.

“That’s good for the meantime,” William had said. “But we need another school. The children must have a school.”

“Agreed,” the mayor had said, “but it’ll take some time to gather the necessary funds.”

Dakota had looked at his dad. He knew exactly what his father had been thinking before William stood and said, “Brenton Sawmill will donate all the wood to build the school. Does that help move things along?”

No one in the room had been shocked by William’s offer. The man was always doing something for someone, but Dakota had run the numbers quickly in his head. This particular offer would hurt the sawmill. Not in an apocalyptic way, but he could already hear Dena and Jacy moaning over the monetary loss.

The town council had jumped at William’s gesture, of course, and his dad had handled Dena and Jacy by calling in Dakota and a few other handy men and women in town to help with the school build... for free. Unpaid labor had shut his sisters up. Mostly.

It hadn’t been a problem for Dakota to schedule his adventure tours around working on the school because he made his own hours. Remembering the long days doing the tours and building, however, made him glad the school was finally finished. He liked building things, but he liked adventure touring better.

“You heading in?” his dad asked him now.

“Nah. I’ve seen it.” Far too nice outside to be inside anyway.

“All right. I’m just going to show my face inside and then we can take off.”

There is a God. “Take your time, real-life hero.” Dakota clapped his hand on his dad’s shoulder, laughing when William rested his fists on his hips and puffed out his chest as if he were Superman. “Don’t get your cape dirty in there.”

“Your mother will kill me if I do.”

William immediately got caught up in the next group of people entering the school and Dakota leaned against the building’s exterior. The bricks behind him were warm and he let that heat soak into his shoulder blades. While he waited for his father, Dakota’s German shepherd-collie pup, Ginger, trotted over. She pretty much ran free in Maplehaven, the entire town claiming ownership of the cinnamon-colored pooch. Dakota didn’t mind sharing her, but at the end of the day, Ginger was always waiting on his front porch, her tail wagging in greeting.

“You know who your daddy is, don’t you, girl?” He scratched between her ears, chuckling when her eyes squeezed shut and she made snuffling noises. Dakota crouched and gave her large ears a more dedicated rubbing, and Ginger rested her nose on his thigh.

“Come meet Ginger, Miss Greenstead,” a young voice said.

Miss Greenstead? Dakota knew all the teachers at the school, but that name wasn’t familiar. He did recognize his best friend’s son, Luke Davidson, walking toward him.

He did not, however, recognize the simply breathtaking woman the boy tugged along behind him. Light blonde hair fell about her shoulders in loose waves, sun glinting off strands in a way that made her look as if she were... twinkling. Sunglasses resting atop her head corralled that hair away from her face where Dakota took note of fair skin and sky blue eyes that reminded him of a perfect summer day. The rust-colored dress she wore hugged a tight physique—one that said she took good care of herself. Long, toned legs traveled down into a pair of shoes that were unlike anything he’d ever seen.

“Your shoes have leaves on them.” By far not his best opening line, but her shoes intrigued him.

As he stood, she knocked the toes of her leaf shoes together then the heels. “I know the leaves haven’t changed yet, but they arrived on my doorstep today and I couldn’t wait to wear them.”

Dakota looked at her face now where a slight blush pinked her smooth cheeks.

“Miss Greenstead has the best shoes, Dakota. She’s got ones that look like notebooks and maps and ladybugs,” Luke said, still holding the woman’s hand.

Lucky kid.

“Dakota?” She raised one blonde brow. “That name is far more interesting than my shoe collection.”

“Dakota’s got Native American blood inside him,” Luke said, releasing her hand. “On his mom’s side. Dakota means friend. Did you know that Miss Greenstead?”

“I did not, Luke.” She gave the kid a smile Dakota enjoyed more than he should have.

The boy beamed. “Hey, you taught me about fractions and I taught you about a Native American word.”

“I guess we’re even then, aren’t we?” The woman’s gaze shifted down to Ginger currently sitting on Dakota’s work boot. “And I’m assuming this is The Famous Ginger.”

Dakota reached down and covered the dog’s ears. “Don’t go filling her head with all that pomp and circumstance. There’ll be no living with her.”

“She could come live with me then.” Luke kneeled before Ginger and let her slobber all over his face. His giggles filled the space between Dakota and...

“So do you have a first name, Miss Greenstead?” he asked as he removed his sunglasses.

Again her cheeks were tinged with pink. “Leah.” She tentatively extended her hand toward him. “I’m Leah Greenstead, fourth grade teacher at Maplehaven Elementary.”

Teacher. Angel. Dakota didn’t see the difference.

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About the Author

Christine DePetrillo can often be found hugging trees, conversing with dragonflies, and walking barefoot through sun-warmed soil. She finds joy in listening to the wind, bathing in moonlight, and breathing in the fragrances of things that bloom. If she had her way, the sky would be the only roof over her head.

Her love of nature seeps into every story she tells. As does her obsession with bearded mountain men who build, often smell like sawdust, and know how to cherish the women they love. Today she writes tales meant to make you laugh, maybe make you sweat, and definitely make you believe in the power of love.

She lives in Rhode Island and occasionally Vermont with her husband and her cat who defend her fiercely from all evils.

Find Christine’s other titles at www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com.  Connect on Facebook at www.facebook.com/christinedepetrilloauthor, on Instagram at @christinedepetrillo, and at the Small Town Hearts Facebook Group. Sign up for her newsletter here www.christinedepetrillo.weebly.com for new release information.