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Kyan
I’ve done as Burley asked and brought her here to the pack headquarters. I can sense her fear, though she’s trying hard not to show it.
Ordinarily, the scent of terror would incite my hunting instincts to rise, but with Topaz, I feel the opposite. It is all I can do not to drag her into my arms take her back to my place, away from all the prying eyes of my pack mates.
For some reason, the thought of walking in here, to a den full of shifters all ogling the woman by my side, sets my teeth on edge.
But I have my orders, and at least here, with the particular protections afforded my pack in the human world, Topaz will be safe for tonight.
The din grows louder as we reach the doors. I shoulder it open, gesturing her in with a grin designed to hide my mixed feelings.
“Ladies first.”
She takes a deep breath and steps inside.
We are greeted by a sea of faces, some young, some old. Men, women, and even a few children are gathered around small tables and slouched into well-worn couches. Most are clad in a mixture of leather, denim, and plaid.
There’s a huge TV mounted on one of the walls, showing a sports game in progress. Right in the middle of the barn is an open-sided fireplace with a stone chimney snaking its way up to the roof. A crackling fire lights the room with a warm glow. A gaggle of kids across the other side is gathered around an air hockey table.
This is where the pack comes to gather and relax. Some of the younger shifters live here in the main building, in the warren of rooms behind this communal area. Others, like me, have our own places, scattered throughout the forest but still on pack land. My home, a two-bed cottage, is about a five-minute walk from here.
Topaz’s entrance stops everyone in their tracks. The look that crosses the face of every single person when they catch sight of her isn’t exactly friendly, but it isn’t hostile either. Murmurs rise through the telepathic link I have with the others and my hackles rise.
I growl back at them through the link and tighten my hold on Topaz’s elbow. She huddles a little closer to me. I’m not sure she even realizes she’s doing it, but I enjoy the press of her body against mine, so I don’t say anything to dissuade her.
Murmurs break out among the pack.
“Dark crimson again,” Topaz mutters.
“What do you mean?”
“Uh, the eyes.” She gestures, and I realize two of the nearest male shifters have a tell-tale sheen of color across their vision. This time, I allow my warning growl to surface out loud.
The two men duck their heads and back away, and Topaz releases a small sigh.
Some of the children from the air hockey game skip over, coming right up to openly stare. Topaz seems less daunted by them, so I let go of her elbow and tug at the loose braid of the nearest child. “Give the woman some space, Isabel!”
She shrieks loudly, giggling and dancing back out of reach, before sticking out her tongue at me, unrepentant.
“Where are your manners?” I pretend to scowl, and she giggles again.
“Who doesn’t have manners?” Burley’s deep voice rumbles through the crowd. He strides toward us.
Topaz’s eyes widen as she notes the long, deep scar that carves across my Alpha’s cheek and jawline, tailing off halfway down his neck.
A present from a demon and their deadly Shadow’s Bane darkness, many years ago.
Burley reaches us, lifting up Isabel and setting her on his shoulder. He turns to Topaz with an easy smile. “Please forgive my daughter. We try not to raise our young like little wildlings, but...” His gaze flickers over to me. “They’ve picked up some bad habits, I guess. Don’t encourage her, Kyan.”
“Kyan saved my life,” Topaz blurts out, surprising herself as much as me, judging by the look on her face.
Burley raises an eyebrow. She stares back, seeming undaunted by the challenge, at least for a few seconds—which is longer than most others in the pack can stand to stare at the Alpha. Other than me, of course, but then, I’m his second.
She’s strong, Kyan. Burley’s voice echoes in my head. Like her mother. She will make someone a worthy mate one day.
His bellowing laugh echoes out into the room, and I am unsure if he is laughing at my lurch of shock, or just in general. By the knowing look in his eyes, I suspect the former.
I glare back. Is my physical attraction to the witch really that obvious? I thought I was doing a good job of tamping everything down.
The Alpha’s mirth floods our telepathic channel until even I have to drop my gaze.
“I am Burley,” he says, turning back to Topaz. “I am in charge of this motley crew.”
She nods stiffly, wrapping her arms around her middle.
Undaunted, Burley claps a hand down on her shoulder. “Glad to hear Kyan did as he was supposed to do.”
He grants me a nod, the laughter gone. “You’ve done us proud, son.”
I incline my head, trying to remain neutral, though pride swells in my chest at the praise.
Topaz clears her throat.
“It’s not that I’m ungrateful, but it’s not every day a shifter pack sticks out their neck to save a witch. What exactly am I doing here? And...” She frowns up at us both. “Have we met, Mr. Burley?”
The Alpha laughs. “Just Burley. No mister. And, you’ll always be welcome here, Topaz. You and your two cousins.”
Her mouth drops open. “You...you know my family?”
“There is... history.”
Topaz looks at me, as if seeking reassurance that she is being given the truth.
I smile noncommittally. It is not up to me to disclose pack business.
Burley seems disinclined to share more at this time, either, though I’m not sure why. He places Isabel back down on the floor and watches her run off toward the air hockey match.
Then he turns back to Topaz. “We can talk about our history, tomorrow. Anything you need—food, rest, medical care—we have it. We’ll take care of you. You have my word on that.”
After a long moment, in which her gaze flickers toward the group of children around the air hockey table, and then back to me, she nods. “All right. For tonight, at least, I accept your assistance. Thank you.”
***
Topaz
There’s a sense of camaraderie here that seems to belie the rumors of aggression and rivalry that dominate the headlines every time a shifter pack makes national news.
That being said...
I may not be a seer like Amethyst, but I am a witch, nonetheless, with well-developed intuition. And something is eating at me about this place.
Wolf shifters—the ones I’ve met, anyway—are tall and broad, like these guys. There’s a feral hunger only half-hidden in their features, again like these shifters. But wolves usually have tawny hair, and their eyes are mostly hazel in hue. Their color according to the blood spell, is a golden-caramel, not dark crimson.
This pack might include a mixture of pale and tawny skin across its members, but all seem to sport the same intense, inky-black hair as Kyan, and none of them have hazel eyes. Everywhere I look, there are deep, vibrant green eyes staring back at me. They are longer limbed and less stocky than wolf shifters tend to be. Their sharp gazes are matched by even sharper grins.
These shifters are definitely not wolves, but they don’t look like any other species I can easily identify.
And now, apparently, there is history between the shifters and my family.
Kyan leads me through the room, weaving in and out of couches and tables and the people seated around them. He throws out greetings as we go, but I remain stiff, awkwardly favoring my injured ankle as I try in vain to keep up.
As we pass through the space, detail after detail catches my attention, each more puzzling than the last. A long, dark braid snakes over a woman’s bare shoulder, showcasing the glint of a silver dagger jewelry piece spiking through the top of her ear.
Shifters can’t wear silver... not unless they want to experience third degree burns or poisoning.
It seems rude to stare, or ask her about it. My attention is diverted by another flash of movement, this time from a group of giggling children as they flit past, playing a game of tag. Don’t shifter kids have a proper bedtime? I don’t have children myself, but if I did, I would certainly have them in bed before now.
An older, brawny man sidles by us. Like Kyan, he’s broad-shouldered and handsome, only his dark hair is streaked with a touch of silver at the temples.
Kyan nods at the man. “Dane. Haven’t seen you in a while.”
“Ky. Been away. Decided to try out the marines. The years went in a flash, I have to admit. Good to be back.”
The man disappears into the far reaches of the room, and I shoot a glance at Kyan.
Ky. I like the sound of his nickname in my mind. “Marines?”
His mouth lifts at one corner. “A lot of shifters join the services. The structure and organization, coupled with the excitement and adrenalin, are a drawcard for us.”
We reach a small door at the rear of the communal area. He leans against the wood with his hands in his pockets.
“Let’s get that ankle seen to, shall we?”
“It’s fine,” I say automatically.
He raises an eyebrow, obviously unconvinced.
“We have bigger problems than my ankle.” I grit my teeth, ignoring the throb of pain that jolts up into my calf when I try and distribute my weight more evenly.
I don’t know why I’m being so difficult. Kyan is clearly trying to help me, and I’m blocking him at every turn. His mouth thins at my belligerence, but I stand my ground, feeling mulish.
The truth is... I’m overwhelmed.
This morning I got up and went to work and everything in my life was normal. Tonight, I’ve been stalked by a demon, whisked away by a sexy stranger, and now I’m standing amidst a bunch of strangers who, despite their bemusing show of kindness, could literally shift into some kind of animal and tear me apart at any moment.
I have no idea who I can trust—other than my cousins who I can’t get hold of—and in some ways I don’t want to go to them, as I might end up endangering them, too.
There’s something about this pack—and in particular, their Alpha, Burley—that is oddly familiar. I try to place his name, to think where I might have heard it before, but I come up empty. I can’t put my finger on it. It’s like a blank spot in my memory; like trying to recall the details of an elusive dream. The harder I try, the more it slips away.
Everything I have in the city—the life I’ve worked so hard to build for myself—feels as if it’s collapsing like a deck of cards.
Kyan opens the door and holds it for me, irritatingly calm. “At least let me get you some food.”
“I already ate at home.”
“Well, I’ll show you to your room.”
I have no comeback for that one. Awkwardly, I brush past him into a large kitchen area. He sucks in a breath as my shoulder catches his torso. I try to ignore the zap of energy that passes between us.
“You must be sick of me by now,” I mutter, more to myself than him.
“Sick to death of you,” he says dryly, but his quick grin shows he doesn’t mean it. He pulls open a cabinet above the countertop and retrieves a first-aid kit. “This thing doesn’t see much use—we don’t have need of it ourselves, and we don’t get many humans passing through these parts.”
He opens the kit and riffles through it, taking out a strip of bandage and a splint, before opening the freezer section of the fridge and removing an ice pack. I move my shoulder-bag—which I have, by some miracle, managed to hang on to this whole time—off my shoulder and roll my head, moaning as my tension eases.
When I catch his eye, he’s staring at me with a strange expression.
“What?”
He ducks his head, glowering at the floor. “Nothing. Come on, follow me.”
Some self-sabotaging part of me wants to challenge him, tease him further. To see what happens to a maybe-wolf shifter when you push him over the edge...
But even in my sleep-deprived state, I know that’s a bad idea.
Instead, I limp after him through another door, deeper into the recesses of a building that is proving a lot bigger and grander than it first appears from that barn door entrance. The rooms we pass through are more luxuriously appointed than the kitchen: all warm wooden floors, thick rugs, and large, comfortable-looking furniture.
Finally, Kyan comes to a standstill at the end of a corridor. His hand grazes the small of my back as he guides me with gentle pressure through a final door into a bedroom. Seemingly, he’s done with dancing around the issue of whether or not I’ll keep following.
The room is much nicer than I expected. There’s a patchwork quilt on the bed, a lamp that spreads golden light over the room when Kyan flicks it on, and a thick rug beside the bed. A small ensuite bathroom is situated at the rear. I sink down onto the mattress and smile at the softness.
The smile slides off my face when Kyan drops to his knees on the rug in front of me and puts his hands on either side of my injured leg.
“Hey!” I twist, wrenching my leg away, and he rolls his eyes.
“Really?” He sits back on his heels and looks up at me, frustration burning in his emerald gaze. “You’re hurt, Topaz. You can’t just walk it off!”
“You don’t know that,” I mutter. Truth is, I do have a spell in my arsenal for healing. I’m just too depleted from the demon fight to use it. “Don’t touch me like...like...”
Kyan holds his hands wide and innocuous, just like he did at my house. The corners of his mouth twitch. “Like what?”
My face burns. Infuriated, I push at him with my uninjured foot, aiming for his broad chest.
Before my foot can make contact, he catches it between his hands. My breath stutters to a standstill.
“Shall I let go?”
I open my mouth, but no words come out. He slides his fingers further upward, toward my knee. “Can I remove your boots?”
Slowly, I nod.
He catches the end of the zipper and pulls it down, slow and careful. His eyes never stray from mine.
I don’t say anything, but I don’t pull away, either.
He pulls the boot free from the arch of my foot and sets it down gently on the floor, followed by my sock. He’s silent, watchful, as if whatever this tenuous thing is between us will break if he moves too quickly.
Wordlessly, I offer him my other foot.
He peels off the other boot even more carefully than the first, mindful of my injury. He cradles my sore ankle with his large hands, rolling it gently from one side to the other, before grunting.
“Not broken. Just a sprain. Don’t think we’ll need the splint, after all.”
I watch as he binds the joint with expert precision. His arms are all corded muscle and sinew; his palms rough and calloused. His tenderness surprises me, and perhaps informs my next action.
Either it’s that, or I’ve lost my mind from stress and tiredness.
I hook my free ankle around his side, urging him forward into the space between my thighs.
He slides easily into the gap, as if our bodies are made to fit each other. He lifts my legs up to rest over his shoulders. I gasp as his hands push up under my skirt and bracket my hips on either side.
There’s a small part of my brain that screams at me that this is insane.
I barely know this man. And, in the hours we’ve spent together, most of our time has involved running from unfathomable danger.
Maybe it’s the adrenalin, or the slight hysteria bubbling inside my chest. Maybe it’s the fact that we narrowly escaped with our lives.
Whatever the reason, my head thuds against the mattress as I fall backward, and I moan as his hot mouth presses against the side of my knee. I reach out blindly, my fingers slipping into his hair, clutching hard before I urge him up until his body covers mine.
He settles heavily on top of me. My breath hitches when I feel his hardness against my belly. His fingers glide through my hair, and his hips grind down into mine. I arch my back, increasing the pressure of his rigid flesh against my mound, and another moan escapes at the delicious sensation.
It’s been so long. And he feels so damn good...
His gaze is intense as he stares into my eyes. He rocks forward again, deliberately rougher this time, as if testing my response, and I can’t help but give him one. My gasp is heartfelt and his grip on my hair tightens.
“Topaz.” His voice is a guttural whisper, the sound sending shivers right through my system.
Slowly, he lowers his mouth to mine.
The kiss is unhurried, the connection as easy as breathing. His tongue flicks against mine and I taste his essence for the first time—hints of a deep, dark chocolate, and some kind of spice. The comforting scent of wood smoke rises around us. Pleasure centers between my legs, as if my mouth is somehow intimately connected to my core.
I squeeze my thighs tight around his waist, pressing my heels—injured, uninjured, I don’t even care at this point—into the small of his back, encouraging the closeness, sending an unspoken message that I want this. I want this so bad.
I don’t even care that it’s a completely inappropriate time and place.
I whimper as his mouth leaves mine, then arch my head back as his teeth trail along the side of my neck.
“Kyan...” I whisper, raking a hand through his already mussed-up hair. “I...”
Want you, I’m about to add. His head jerks up and his eyes, pupils wide and dark and almost drowning out the green, widen. It’s like he’s been lost in a fog and he suddenly sees me clearly once again.
“Damn.” He pulls back so abruptly I gasp. The warmth and the weight of his body is gone, and I scrabble to straighten my clothing, sitting up on the bed, flushed and confused.
I blink up at him through my tangled hair. It takes a moment to push it out of my face. When I finally get a clear look, I see Kyan still has an erection, and he is breathing as heavily as I am.
So, it isn’t that he doesn’t want me. Then, why did he stop?
He opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again.
Then he turns on his heel and leaves the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.
What the ever-loving hell just happened?
I flop back onto the bed, my mind—and my pulse—still racing. The whole episode can’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it feels like hours have passed.
I press my hands to my heated cheeks. I don’t know what to feel. Half of me regrets ever coming here with Kyan in the first place, and the other half is lying here, aching and shivery with unfulfilled need pulsing through every inch of my body.
Can this night get any weirder?
My ankle begins to throb, reminding me of all that went on earlier. Kyan assured me that no demon will get past the pack, and I’m inclined to believe him.
The problem is, maybe there are other kinds of danger out there, too. Danger such as the sexy shifter who I suspect is standing guard somewhere outside that door.
I don’t know how I know that, but I do. It is as if I feel Kyan’s presence, which is both frustrating and comforting at the same time.
My ankle throbs again, and I sigh. There’s no way I’m leaving this room for painkillers.
A quick numbing spell helps somewhat, though the sensation spreads halfway up my calf by accident. Ammie was always better at healing magic than me.
I roll over and press my face into the comforter. I can’t think about Amethyst now, or Sapphire, other than to hope they got my message, and that they are both safe and well.
I can’t think about Kyan, either. I just need to get some sleep, clear my head, and then hopefully figure out what to do in the morning.
I shuck off my clothes, leaving on my underwear, and crawl under the covers. I reach out and switch off the bedside lamp, laying in the dark while I toss and turn. In spite of the adrenalin of the day—or perhaps because of it—exhaustion crashes into me like a tidal wave.
And yet, I still need to come up with a plan; I can’t stay here, around these odd shifters. Not only do I not know who or what they are, but I still have no real idea of their motive for having Kyan bring me here.
Regardless of my doubts, I might be tempted to stay simply for the sense of safety that I undoubtedly feel within these walls—if only the image of those laughing children, skipping around the communal area, did not keep rising in my mind.
These total strangers took me in and offered me shelter without batting an eyelid. And if I stay, my presence here will likely endanger them all.
