Chapter Twenty

 

Devin strode restlessly through the house. The walls and roof were now intact. The men had accomplished a lot the past month. He couldn’t help but be curious…was the project completed enough to trap a monster? Should trap me as well! Climbing the stairs, Devin ran his hand along the walls, trying to imagine it.

When he got to the third floor he leaned against one of the chimneys. The workers had finished for the day and campfires were being lit outside. He slid to the floor, leaned his head back against the bricks and closed his eyes. Devin could almost feel the minutes ticking by, closing the distance between him and the full moon rise. He knew so little about what to expect. As much as he should be petrified right now, he wasn’t.

All he could think about was Isabel. How he’d lost her.

Devin could still see the look on her face when she’d turned back to him in the tent. When she’d come and knelt at his feet. The terrible pity. Heartache. Loss. She’d said goodbye to him in that one long gaze. He’d suddenly become Lucas in her eyes. A road she would not walk down twice. He didn’t blame her. Isabel deserved to feel that way. But it didn’t make the moment any easier. If he could’ve pulled her into his arms and said he didn’t think he’d turn, Devin would’ve done so in a heartbeat.

But he knew he was going to turn. Very soon.

Swoosh. Devin heard the brush of Isabel’s skirts as she left her tent. He smelled the sweet tang of her body’s scent as she crossed the lawn, heard the anguished trip of her breath as she roamed the rooms below. Was she thinking of their time together in this house, both now and in the future? Or was she thinking of being trapped within its walls for the next three hundred years? Probably a bit of both. Devin listened to each step she took up the stairs. When she reached the third floor, Isabel didn’t look at him but walked to the window.

Devin knew she knew he was there. He could hear it in the heavy thud of her heart, the scent of her increased blood flow. The dampness locked between her closed fists.

Long minutes passed before she finally spoke. “You are wrong about everything, Devin.” She took a deep, steadying breath. “So very wrong.”

Devin studied her profile. So beautiful with her hair semi-loose, pieces of its long, curling tendrils twisting down her back and over her shoulders. She had not removed the bandage from her cheek.

“I’m not wrong about a thing,” he said.

Spinning, she leaned against the sill. “How can you think for a minute that I feel the same way about you that I did Lucas?”

“Because you do,” Devin said evenly.

Isabel crossed the room and slid down next to him. They sat in much the same position they had that first night in the basement. “In truth, at first my thoughts compared you with Lucas. I saw no hope for us. But as I sat there reading Calum’s journal I was quickly reminded about loves lost. About how fleeting it all is.” She paused for a few seconds. “Whether he had been the cause that led to his circumstances, in the end, Calum committed the ultimate sacrifice for love. He said goodbye to his wife and child forever to protect them. Keep them safe.”

Devin shrugged. “I suppose that’s the optimistic way of looking at it.”

“That’s the only way to look at it.” Isabel took his hand. “Please do not push me away, Devin. You must know by now that I love you. My time here is limited. Lord knows what will happen afterward.”

Devin closed his eyes. He hated not knowing. Not knowing when and if they’d travel forward together again. Not knowing if he’d hurt her when he turned into a wolf. But by far the worst feeling was whether he’d be able to protect her from Lucas when he turned. It was one thing being a warlock. He at least had his wits. But a werewolf? There were too many unanswered questions, too many gray areas.

He wrapped his hand around hers and opened his eyes. “I love you too, Isabel.”

Leaning her head back against the chimney, she met his eyes. “I know.”

“I’m not scared of turning.” Devin looked past her to the darkening skyline. “I’m petrified of hurting you.”

“I’ll stay with Calum tonight. I’ll be safe.” A small sound of distress came from her throat. “I’m petrified of Lucas hurting you.”

“I’m not. Looking forward to meeting him with equal strength.”

“So you assume.” Isabel sidled closer.

Devin knew she wanted to say more. That her true fear was that Lucas would attack him before he turned, or worse yet, while he turned. All he could hope was that all werewolves turned when the moon hit a certain zenith. He had no choice but to leave this encampment before. To risk her or any of the men’s life for that matter was incomprehensible.

Lazy sawdust floated around them as the sun’s very last ray slid over the sill and splashed across the floor. “What else did you learn from Calum’s journal?”

Devin heard her heartbeat speed up for a moment before slowing down. “Nothing after the endless talk of Anna. It seemed Calum had been sitting in his tent that week before you were bit obsessing about years gone by. Sad really.”

Isabel lied to him. “I could pull the truth from your mind if I wanted to. You know that right?”

“But you will not,” she responded. “Because you respect me too much. Also, because you are resolved.”

Devin lifted a hand and touched the corner of her cheek. “As you are to hide your wound from me.”

A wobbly smile vanished before it had a chance to blossom. “Like you, I need time to cope with change.”

His respect for her was too great to push. Even to say he’d love her no matter what she looked like would seem false to her freshly wounded vanity right now. Devin knew. He’d been there. Still, he couldn’t help but think of what the ‘in-between’ Isabel had said about her ghost worrying what he’d think of her face. What a thing to cross time and dimension. Made ‘wooing’ a girl particularly tricky. “You know I’d love you no matter what you looked like, right Isabel?”

As forecasted, she shrugged him off and stood. Self-esteem was a fragile human thread, one he decided not to mess with again right now. Standing as well, he followed her to the window and looked down at the milling men below. The sun had vanished beneath the horizon and the full moon sat patiently above the tree line, its secrets eager to steel the night. Isabel’s heart thundered in her chest. Devin had to give her credit for appearing so calm.

“How do you feel?” She murmured softly.

“You know exactly how I feel.”

Isabel’s eyes fell to his rampant arousal before returning to his face. Devin’s nostrils flared when her juices began to flow. Isabel’s throat rippled as she suffered a heavy swallow. “And you know exactly how I feel, do you not?”

The heat in her body rose. Musky scent began to waft from her pores. Devin struggled for air…calm. “Little time,” he whispered.

Theirs was an unspoken challenge. An unvoiced decision. Would she walk away as she should? Would he let her go as he should? Isabel knew he experienced the arousal she’d witnessed in Lucas before he turned. Would she decide to let the wolf have her once more? Or would she decide to walk away. Devin knew it was out of his hands. Lust raged through his veins so harshly now, he could barely contain it. There existed no feeling like this.

Isabel’s eyes turned to the moon and remained there for several seconds before they darted back to him. “Yes, Devin. Yes.”

Her consent wouldn’t have mattered at this point. The moon tasted like silk on his tongue. Isabel’s sweat and scent created an ache that had to be filled. Swinging her around, he pressed her against the wall, his front to her back. Devin snarled against her hair. Strange thoughts started to swamp his senses.

Mine. Mate. Impregnate.

Unable to control the low growl in his throat he spread her legs, pulled down his pants just enough, her skirts up and thrust inside her tight, steaming hot sheath.

Everything after that became incredibly acute. Her harsh cries of pleasure. His grunts of domination. In. Out. In. Out. The sharp scent of her musk running down his leg combined with the sound of dogs howling miles away. Grabbing her hair, he pulled back her head and nibbled her neck. Licked, nibbled.

“Devin!” She cried, her inner muscles clenched.

The sound was foreign to him. The creature he mated with his somehow, precious somehow. One last thrust. His seed pumped. Pleasure. Bliss. But time was running out. Pulling free, he yanked up his pants and stumbled toward the stairs. The walls closed in on him. Too close. He needed to get out of here.

Sweat poured down his face as he stumbled down, down, down. Crawling out of one of the back windows, he hit the ground. The cool earth rose up around him, the sky overhead felt free. The moon. Where the hell was the moon? He ripped off his shirt. Furious. Needing. Staggering into the woods, he fell against the tree and peered around. Where was the moon? This structure stood in the way, didn’t belong. Felt foreign.

I need to get away. I need the forest around me. Freedom. So he began to run. Run until he could see the moon through the trees. Run until this cloying feel of need passed.

Arghhh! Pain ripped through his body so harshly he stumbled to the ground. It started in his face, as though nails were driven into every inch of his skin. Then his torso. As though sizzling fire burned it. Then his legs, as though he were being eaten alive. Fear and pain seized every part of his being. Where was he? What was he? Would this persecution last forever? Pain became so great that all he could do was wail. Cry. Scream. But nobody came. Nothing released him. Clawing the ground, he tried to drag himself away. Tried to make sense of complete confusion, complete and absolute terror.

Shhhhhh. Pain started to wane. Bit by bit. Shhhhhh. Finally, he lay still. Looking up he saw the wind blow through the trees. Shhhhh. Slowly, he stood and smelled the air. Ravenous hunger rumbled through his belly. Sniffing, he spied a dead carcass nearby. Fresh. Crawling on his haunches, he went to it. No danger was nearby. With lightening quick reflexes, he dragged it to cover, a rock with a small alcove beneath. As his teeth sunk into its warm flesh, he groaned in contentment. Eyes constantly on the forest around him, he ate his fill. Belly full at last, he sat back and rested his head on his paws.

Water trickled in the distance. A river turned stream. Someone whispered─the voice almost lost in the clicking of tree branches overhead. Primitive and low, an animal growled. Danger. Anxiety stiffened his spine. Another gust of wind blew. It carried scent.

Spicy. Fresh.

He knew this somehow. This was familiar.

Sprinting forward, he left his alcove and ran through the woodland. Every stone and stump was discernible─every twisting path, easy to navigate. Eyes to the night, intent on his destination, he coasted around tree trunks, leapt over boulders, desperate to reach something.

The low growl grew stronger. Time was running out. Heavy breathing mixed with the wind. Thump. Thump. Its heartbeat mixed with his. Petrified and fast, pounding so hard and thickly it filled his throat.

Bursting free from the trees into a clearing he skidded to a halt.

Something knelt by a stream, its long curling mane a delicate fan over its back. Bright orange blossoms decorated the ground around it He inhaled.

Spicy. Fresh.

“I always wondered why they grew here.” It fingered a blossom at its side without turning. “Butterfly Weed, my favorite flower.”

Why did he understand it? He tried to respond but couldn’t.

“Don’t be afraid. Come closer. I won’t hurt you,” it whispered.

Hurt him? Unlikely. Why would it say such a thing?

Unmoving it spoke again. “Do you suppose these Butterfly Weeds became confused? Really, they’re supposed to be fond of fields.”

He took a cautious step forward. Danger was close. It should take care. Move. You are incredibly vulnerable to threat. Come to me. You are not safe. He sniffed. Putrid, flesh decayed. Too close.

“Can’t say I blame them,” it continued, soft voice mesmerizing. “I think I might grow here too. It’s one of the most beautiful spots.”

Not nearly as beautiful as it was─ sounded. He needed to see its face.

Tilting back its head it whispered, “Look. I just knew that tonight I’d see them. A rare thing in Maine, but it happens.”

Moving forward a few more steps he gazed up. A deep blue-green array of lights slithered across the night sky.

“Like I said,” it continued. “Rare. But I had a feeling. You, them…magic?”

He took a few more steps. Wanted so much to talk to it─but could not.

“I’m glad you came.”

What are you? Voiceless, he closed the distance and sat beside it. Head bent now, its mane hid its profile. Why did it hide?

“Things are different now,” it murmured. Its slender paw cupped the pedal of a Butterfly Weed, its ivory texture delicate against the vibrant orange.

How so? Tell me! He edged closer.

“No, no, no,” it said mournfully. “I wanted more time.”

The moment it spoke another scent filled the clearing. Branches snapped. Standing, he walked around his newfound creature and stopped. Every nerve ending vibrated. Danger edged closer. The same low growl he’d heard before rumbled again.

Closer.

He growled.

So strong was his sudden need to protect this creature he readied himself for death. Licking his lips, he eyed the tree line. Blood. He wanted blood.

Another low growl rumbled from the night.

“Go now,” it whispered urgently. “I am not worth it.”

Not worth it? How could it think such a thing? Pacing, he waited. Whatever came was nearly here, perhaps had always been. Watching. Waiting. He craved battle so strongly he almost strayed from his creature’s side to seek out whatever lurked so cowardly within the darkness.

Crash. Snap.

A split second before he was able to react, his creature whimpered and crouched down further. Black and mighty, the darkness had limbs, jumping at them with a ferociousness he could never have anticipated. He crouched and sprung, met the beast in the air moments before it landed on his creature.

They rolled and rolled until water engulfed. He kicked and clawed. The cool water barely touched his skin as they thrashed and fought.

Where is your strength and might fool? You dare challenge me.

He knew that voice! But how? Ignoring the beast’s words within his mind he sank his teeth into the pelt on its shoulder. Laughter rang. Yellow fangs crossed his vision. Still they rolled.

“Stop, no, please!” his creature pleaded.

Splashing, it pursued them.

Go back, he thought. I will protect you.

But as he battled the beast, he started to panic. Could he protect it? This monster was strong, powerful, and relentless. Mere minutes into the war he knew himself defeated.

“Let him go! You must!” his creature screamed.

Twisting to the right, he tried to shake the monster off. It clung to him, paws a vice grip, claws digging into his vulnerable flesh. Pain ripped and tore─ a cruel unseen knife of destruction across his midriff. With a yelp he struggled to regain footing. The sharp tang of blood filled his nostrils. The absolution of defeat a mere breath away.

“Get off him!”

Did it rip me in half? Why does the night blur? He saw his creature pounce on the monster determined to end him. “No,” he pleaded. Nothing came out.

His head slammed against grass. Pebbles cut into his back. The edge of the stream cornered him. He scrambled. A fist size rock provided leverage. He pushed and flung forward. This gained him two feet of grass. Such pain! The creature bit and tore. Movement, coherent thought, became more and more difficult. Its screams sounded far off. A Butterfly Weed crushed beneath his nose, smeared into the ground.

There existed no more scent.

You dared challenge. You lost.

And he had. Even fury and vengeance held no appeal. Death however, lulled and pacified. No! How could he think such? Again furious, he lurched forward. Only to be dragged down once more. The beast’s body pinned him, its growl close to his ear.

Its bite to his jugular—fatal.

Through the slim veil of night he watched his crimson blood drain and stain the grass. Pain fled.

His eyes slid shut.

A warm, gentle hand touched his neck. “Only we can do it together.”

He lived? Prying open his eyes, he stared up. Blackness swirled around him. A creature stood over him. All pain had fled. His creature and the other beast had vanished.

“I am Calum. I won’t harm you. Try standing,” it urged.

Flexing his muscles, he tried. And stood easily. Fear and the need to protect flooded his senses. Shhhhh. The wind blew through the leaves.

“Are you ready to protect your creature? Are you ready to protect Isabel?” It asked.

A heavy wet drop hit his nose. Damp filled the forest. Yes, he was ready. Darting into the woods, he closed the distance between his creature and him. He would save his Isabel. Nothing would ever hurt it again. When he broke free from the forest rain fell in heavy sheets. Light flashed overhead. Shaking his coat, he growled low in his throat and bared his teeth.

Calum was somehow already here. The enemy was about to attack his creature, Isabel.

Scrambling, he began running. He intended to die for Isabel.