After the last forty-eight hours, she never wanted to use her phone again.

Lara could feel the tension drain out of her shoulders the very moment her little Honda Civic crested the Continental Divide and the bars on her phone completely disappeared. She would be staying up in Winter’s Lake for at least a week, maybe more, and was overjoyed at the prospect of being cut off from the outside world.

The day was overcast and the forest dark as Lara drove the last winding stretch of highway down into the small mountain town of Winter’s Lake. It was late September and the wind had a sharp bite. Autumn always came more quickly to the mountains, something Lara always managed to forget. When she was a little girl, her parents would always remember to pack her warm clothing and make sure she was bundled up properly for the mountain weather, but Lara had trouble remember to do such adult things on her own.  It was always hard to imagine that a bright sunny day in the mountains could quickly turn into a freezing cold night.

Of course, Lara was a bit out of practice packing for mountain weather. She hadn’t been up to the cabin since her parents had passed away almost five years ago. A rental agency had been happy to take care of it, and Lara was more than happy to allow them to manage the property… and send her the checks.

She vaguely wondered what the property looked like. Was that ugly green plaid sofa still in front of the fireplace? Was the wreath of antlers still hanging on the wall near the door? Did her old room still have bunk beds or had the management company replaced them with a more renter-friendly full or queen?

As she steered the car down the winding driveway and the house came into view, Lara found the sight to be refreshingly familiar: same rickety wooden porch with sagging Adirondack chairs, same crooked stone chimney, same gnarled pine tree looming over the north side of the house.

What was not the same, however, was the rusted brown jeep parked under the pine tree and the tall, muscular man perched on the roof, his sandy hair falling over his face as he bent to align his hammer with a nail.

No, the last time Lara had been up to the cabin, there definitely hadn’t been a handsome man in the mix. If this is an added perk from the property management company, Lara thought, then I am definitely on board.

The tires of Lara’s car crunched on the gravel driveway and the man looked up, his hair falling away to reveal a finely chiseled face. He squinted at the car for a moment, and then broke into a smile and a wave.

Lara waved back as she pulled her car alongside the Jeep.

“Hi there,” she shouted, stepping out of the car and letting the door slam behind her.

“Afternoon,” the man shouted back at her, still smiling. He looked around for a moment, appearing almost puzzled and it took Lara a couple of moments to understand why. There was no ladder near the roof.

“Do you need help–?” she began, but the man was in motion before she finished her sentence. With one quick leap, he launched himself off the roof, into the twisted old pine and clambered swiftly down the trunk.

“Wow, that’s something you don’t see in LA,” Lara muttered to herself. Los Angeles had its share of diversity and eccentricity, but Lara had never before witnessed an honest-to-god, tree scaling mountain man.

The man landed lightly on the ground, soft puffs of dirt rising around his worn brown leather work boots, and he strode towards Lara, hand outstretched and a friendly grin spread across his handsome face.

“You must be Ms. Forbes,” he said, his grin widening. “We always thought you were a myth around these parts.”

Lara placed her small hand in his large, calloused one and was greeted with a hearty handshake. Yet another difference from LA, where formal introductions seemed to involve either a disinterested nod or a falsely enthusiastic hug. Genuine handshakes were about as rare as finding a man on your roof.

Winter’s Lake was already proving to be a refreshing change, and she’d only been within town limits for approximately five minutes.

“Hi,” Lara answered back, hoping her smile was as genuine as the man’s. “I am Lara Forbes, and I do actually exist.”

“Wow, looks like I lost a bet back at the office,” he replied.

“You bet that I didn’t exist?” Lara asked, raising one eyebrow.

“Nah,” the man replied, “I bet that you wouldn’t be this pretty.” His soft brown eyes widened as the words left his mouth. “Ah, that came out wrong—” The man tried to explain, but Lara just laughed.

“No, it’s fine,” she said. “I get it. Single lady owns an old family cabin deep in the woods, everyone expects her to be a spinster or a cat lady.”

The man shrugged and scratched the base of his neck with one rough hand. “Okay, this is not going the way I’d hoped.” He paused, then reached his hand out again. “Killian Donaldson,” he said, more formally than before. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Forbes.”

“It’s Lara, just Lara,” she said, returning the handshake yet again. It was as firm as the first one. Lara would be fine if they entered into an endless loop of introductions and handshakes, provided that meant she could keep touching Killian’s strong hand.

Bret had hands like cold, dead fish, she thought, then banished the thought from her mind. The entire point of this trip was to forget Bret. She couldn’t let him ruin this nice moment with the handsome tree man, she wouldn’t.

Killian was talking again and Lara gratefully let her attention wander away from her absent boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) and back to the present.

“So, Lara, how long has it been since you’ve been up to Winter’s Lake?” Killian asked as he popped her trunk and began removing her luggage.

“Oh, god, I’m not even sure,” she said. “It’s been ages, I think. Five, maybe ten years? You don’t need to get my bags, actually—”

Killian’s eyebrows shot up. “Sorry, Ms. Forbes—Lara. I can’t stand around and let a lady unload her own luggage. That would be terribly rude of me.”

Another difference from LA, where Lara had almost been run over in a grocery store parking lot by a man who’d been too busy texting and pushing his shopping cart to notice Lara struggling to load a case of sparkling water into her trunk. To be honest, that man was Lara’s terrible boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?). To be even more honest, he’d snapped at Lara for getting in his way. She truly had no idea what she saw in Bret. At least now she wouldn’t see him for a week, maybe more. Maybe forever.

“I can at least grab a few things,” Lara insisted, snagging an overnight bag that was perched precariously on top of the pile of luggage in Killian’s arms. Lara was duly impressed by his ability to manage an entire trunkful of bags and suitcases in one armful.

“All right, I think I can allow that,” Killian said, voice muffled by the stack of Lara’s possessions blocking his face.

After they’d loaded Lara’s things into the cabin, Killian insisted on giving her a guided tour. “You haven’t been here in ages,” he explained. “I want to make sure you’ve got a good lay of the land.”

He extended his arm chivalrously, and Lara took it by the crook of his elbow. “Lead on, then.”

The cabin had, for the most part, remained unchanged from what Lara remembered from her childhood. The ugly green sofa was still there, as was the antler wreath on the wall. The bunk bed had been replaced, as she’d expected, by a large queen sized bed, and the kitchen had new, stainless steel appliances.

There were also thick metal bars over all the windows. Lara did not remember that.

“There’s been some aggressive wildlife in the area,” Killian explained, brown eyes darting away from Lara. “It’s not a big deal, most of the cabins up here have protective covering on the windows.”

Protective covering?

Killian must have noticed Lara’s worried expression, because he moved his arm up and wrapped it around her narrow shoulders. “It’s nothing to worry about, Lara, I promise. Just better safe than sorry, right?”

She nodded, enjoying his arm around her shoulder a bit more than she should. “Better safe than sorry. Exactly.”

Killian led her outside to finish the rest of the tour. The cabin was simple: two bedrooms, a living room, a bathroom and a kitchen. Outside, there was a hammock strung between two pine trees, a fire pit and a picnic table. The area immediately surrounding the cabin—it couldn’t really be called a “yard”—was cleared into a little open space, but the woods loomed densely at the edge of the clearing.

“There’s a cabin just up the road there,” Killian pointed back the way Lara had come, “but it’s empty for the season. If you need anything, you just call me, okay?”

“My phone doesn’t work up here,” Lara explained.

“Cabin’s got a landline,” Killian said, laughing. “I know, seems like an ancient relic, but that’s all we can use up here.”

Lara nodded.

“My number’s written up there by the phone,” he continued. “Don’t hesitate to call.” His eyes flicked through the dark woods. “I mean it, Lara, you call me anytime.”

“I will,” Lara said, a little worried by his concern. “I’ll call.”

“Okay, good,” Killian smiled again. Lara was beginning to love that charming, toothy grin.  “Hey, I didn’t unload any groceries, did I?”

“Oof, no,” Lara shrugged. “I was in such a big hurry to get out of LA that I didn’t exactly stop and pick up provisions.”

“Well, the market’s closed,” Killian said, checking his watch. “Everything in town pretty much closes down early on Sunday. The restaurant’s open, though. I’m grabbing dinner there tonight, and you’re welcome to join me.”

Lara smiled. “Sure, I’d love to. Which restaurant?”

“The restaurant, Lara, it’s called ‘Dusty’s,’” Killian explained. “We’ve only got one.”

Okay. Yet another big difference from LA, which had trendy bistros and dozens of food trucks crammed into every city block.

“All right, well. I guess I’ll meet you at the restaurant in a little bit. Seven?” Lara said.

“Seven sounds good,” Killian replied, hopping into his battered Jeep. “See you there.”

“See you there,” Lara said, waving as he pulled down the driveway.

As the sound of Killian’s tires faded down the gravel path, the silence of the forest descended on Lara. A bird chirped. Insects buzzed. Winds whistled through the thick pine trees.

Lara exhaled, and collapsed shakily into one of the wooden chairs on the porch. Thank god for peace and quiet.

 

* * *

Lara decided to walk in to the restaurant for dinner. The town of Winter’s Lake was only about a mile or so from her cabin via the rutted, bumpy country road, and the walk was even shorter. If she took the path along the lakeshore that wound through the woods, it was only about three quarters of a mile.

The fall wind tugged at Lara’s short blond bob and whipped strands of carefully highlighted hair across her face. She let her hair be messy, enjoying the freedom to not be perfect for a moment. LA was hundreds of miles away and, if she was being honest, Lara had never felt better.

Her booted feet crushed the red autumn leaves that lined the path. The boots had already been at the cabin, a throwback from her younger days when her feet had been the same size but her spirit had been more outdoorsy and carefree.

Young, twenty-something Lara had loved to run around these hills, climbing trees and wading in the lake. Older, thirty-five year old Lara rarely even looked up from her phone as she crossed busy city intersections. Did her street in LA have trees? She couldn’t remember. Bret paid a gardener, but Lara wasn’t exactly sure what for. Did they even have flowers?

Lara took a deep breath and tried to remember her yard back home in Los Angeles. She couldn’t. There was a terra cotta path that led up from the street and she vaguely remembered some bushes. The house was Bret’s and she’d lived there for years, but she had never really made her mark on the place. He’d picked out the furniture long before she’d moved in and her belongings were primarily confined to a closet upstairs and one corner of the small home office.

Once she’d asked if they could think about replacing the old, obnoxiously masculine black leather sofas, and Bret had nearly bitten her head off. She should have known they weren’t meant to last.

Lara and Bret had been dating since college and, frankly, she’d always been surprised that he’d stuck with her for so long. Bret was ambitious—he was an entertainment lawyer and had been slaving away to build his practice almost the entire time she’d known him—and Lara always thought that he’d leave her for an actress or singer.

She had no idea what he saw in her, a quiet art major turned wedding photographer. Lara was pretty, Lara was nice, but Lara always expected Bret to cheat on her with someone more glamorous.

Lara was right.

The woods teemed with life around her. A rabbit hopped down the path. Lara exhaled, still shaking with the anger and surprise of the discovery of Bret’s infidelity. It had only been two days ago, but it felt like a lifetime.

She’d gotten a surprisingly romantic text from Bret early Friday afternoon. I can’t wait to see you tonight, he’d written. Pull your panties off, turn you around and do you across the kitchen counter.

Lara had been impressed and a little confused. She didn’t think they had plans that night. Bret had grown so distant lately, it was a pleasant surprise to get something so sexy from him. Then the next text had pinged in. I’m telling L that I’m working late. Shhhh. Can’t wait to see you, baby.

She had calmly set her phone down on the kitchen counter and promptly burst into years. When Bret arrived home a few hours later, her things were packed and her Honda was loaded.

He’d been painfully nonchalant about the whole thing. “Oh, you found out about Kate, huh?” he’d said, staring at her without even removing his mirrored sunglasses. “I guess it’s probably time for you and I to take a break. I mean, we’ve been together forever.”

A break? Lara stomped through the woods, crushing leaves and snapping twigs. A break?! She had given him the last fifteen years of her life, devoted everything to their relationship, and all he could say was “It’s time for you and I to take a break?”

When they’d graduated from college and she’d followed him to LA so he could go to law school, he’d promised that they’d get engaged as soon as possible. When she worked her ass off to pay their rent while he was a student, he swore that, as soon as he had enough money for a ring, they’d make it official. When he was brought on as a junior partner at his firm, he said that he’d propose as soon as he was made a partner. He’d been a partner for five years now.

Every time she brought up the idea of getting married, he’d always promised that he’d do it soon, that he wanted to make it special. That was ages ago and there was still no ring on her finger.

And there probably never would be, considering that he was a lying, cheating, dismissive bastard.

Lara sighed, her sad exhalation echoing through the empty woods. It was a lonely sound, longing and sadness reverberating through the silent trees.

Silence. Lara froze. She’d played in these woods throughout her whole childhood and had never known them to be silent. They were often quiet, but there was always something—the chattering of birds, the scuffling of squirrels, buzzing of insects—to fill the forest air.

But now there was nothing. It was as if the entire forest had gone on lockdown.

“Hello?” Lara called, feeling silly and then feeling ashamed of feeling silly. If there was someone there, they’d understand why she’d shouted. If there wasn’t anyone there, then there would be no one to judge her. However, if there wasn’t someone but something out in the woods, maybe the sound of her voice would scare it away.

A twig snapped behind her and Lara whirled around.

There was nothing.

A twig snapped again, this time on the other side of the path. Lara wheeled back and, this time, there was someone there.

A broad-shouldered, black haired man stood just off the path, looming over Lara. Hours ago, she’d thought Killian was the largest man she’d ever seen up close, but this man’s sheer size and bulk dwarfed him. There was something about this man that reminded Lara of her property manager: maybe it was the way his taut muscles pushed the limits of his red plaid shirt; maybe it was the similarity of his rough hewn features; perhaps it was something hungry twinkling down in the depths of his ice blue eyes.

“Are you lost?” the man asked, his eyes trailing up Lara’s slim figure. His voice was a low growl and Lara involuntarily trembled in the cool fall air. She really should have brought a coat.

Lara smiled, hoping that she looked the right amount of confident. “No, I’m good,” she answered, forcing a falsely sunny tone. “I’m just heading into town to meet a friend for dinner.”

The forest stayed silent as the man seemed to ponder this. He took a quick step toward Lara, then inhaled quickly, almost a sniff. “You’re meeting Killian, huh?” he asked, grin fading into a smirk.

“How did you know that?” Lara demanded.

“It’s a small town,” the man shrugged. “Everybody knows everybody’s business.”

“Guess I’d better get used to it.”

“Why? You staying long?” The black haired man’s smile was back. That was something else that reminded Lara of Killian: the sharpness of his smile.

She just shrugged. “Who knows? I’m a city girl, but it turns out city people suck, so… maybe I’ll give small town life a try for a while.”

“You should. But I warn you,” the man said. “Winter’s Lake is pretty damn small, even for a small town.

“I doubt it could be worse than LA,” Lara replied.

“Well, we’ll see about that, miss,” the man said. “I’m Russell, by the way. Russ, if you like.”

“Thanks, Russell,” Lara said, refusing to use the nickname. There was something about Russ that made her uncomfortable, something predatory. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to meet a friend for dinner.”

Much to Lara’s dismay, Russ wasn’t satisfied with simply allowing her walk alone into town. He immediately began strolling at her side, shortening his long steps to match her fast, short ones.

Lara walked in silence and Russ picked up her cue. They were nearly to the restaurant before either of them spoke again.

“Thanks for the escort,” Lara said, but Russ completely missed her sarcasm.

“Not a problem,” he replied, opening the door and gesturing gallantly inside.

Lara stepped through the door into the dimly lit restaurant. It was more of a rustic bar and grill than a proper restaurant. A long wooden bar lined one wall and a pool table—occupied by two bearded locals—stood in the corner under a dinged aluminum lamp. There was a series of wooden booths tucked along one wall and, in the last one, sat Killian. His face lit up when he saw Lara and he began to rise, but then his expression darkened.

Lara couldn’t begin to imagine what the problem was, until she glanced behind her and noticed that Russ had entered the bar behind her, looming too close to her to make them look like strangers.

“Hey!” she shouted at Killian, waving cheerfully and trying to turn his sour expression around.

She failed at this.

Killian only nodded his chin in her direction and then sank sadly back into the booth.

Lara wheeled around on Russ. “Could you leave us alone for a minute? Please?”

It would have been common courtesy to say yes, so Lara was shocked when Russ answered with a curt no and pushed past her to join Killian in his booth.

Killian didn’t say anything, just glowered up at Russ. Lara joined them, pushing into Killian’s side and scooting close to him, her face a near imitation of Killian’s glare.

Russ seemed unperturbed. “So,” he said. “What brings you to Winter’s Lake, Lara?”

“I was trying to get some peace and quiet,” she replied pointedly. “Any chance you could leave us alone so I can achieve that?”

Killian’s soft brown eyes widened and the smallest grin peeked out of the corner of his mouth. Lara instinctively reached under the table and squeezed his hand.

Russ didn’t pay any attention to Lara’s rudeness, he just set both elbows onto the scratched wooden surface of the table and leaned toward them, looming into Lara and Killian’s space.  “You’re new here, Lara, so I’m going to lay things out for you: this is my town and I do what I want. If I want to have dinner with our newest guest and one of my oldest, dearest friends, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

Lara looked confused. “Friends?”

Killian’s miserable expression seemed to signify that they were anything but friends.

“Killian and I are like brothers, aren’t we, Killian?” Russ asked.

Killian smiled sourly. “I guess that’s a good way to put it. You can choose your friends, but you can’t choose your family.”

This puzzled Lara. The two men were not related, they looked far too different for that. But there were some faint similarities: the sharp, toothy smiles; their enormous size; the graceful, prowling way that they both moved. They weren’t related, but maybe there was something in the water up there in Winter’s Lake that made for big, homegrown boys.

Russ wasn’t done. “Killian,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I was thinking that I’d like to get to know Lara here a little better. Why do you give us some time to ourselves?”

Lara laughed, expecting Killian to follow suit. But he just dropped his eyes to the table, nodded, and pushed past Lara to get out of their booth.

Right before he walked away, he turned back around and managed a low farewell to Lara. “Bye,” he muttered gruffly. “Sorry I wasn’t a better dinner companion. Have fun with Russ.”

It only took him a few long strides to cross the bar and reach the door, letting it slam behind him.

Russ watched Killian slink away, ice blue eyes gleaming in the low light of the bar. He leaned back, satisfied, against the wall of the booth and tucked his hands up behind his head. “Well,” he said. “Why don’t we have some fun?”

Lara snatched up her purse and bolted out of the booth, nearly spitting with rage. “I have a better idea, Russell,” she snarled. “How about you go fuck yourself?”

With that, she sprinted out of the bar after Killian.

 

* * *

 

The parking lot of the little restaurant was poorly lit and Lara wasn’t able to spot Killian’s rusty Jeep until he revved the engine to life and turned on his lights.

She waved her arms, shouting his name as she raced toward his car. “Killian!” Lara shouted. “Killian, wait!”

The Jeep screeched to a halt and Killian rolled down the passenger side window, peering out at her with disbelief.

“I told Russ to go fuck himself,” she snapped, wrenching the passenger door of the Jeep open and hopping inside.

“You did what?” Killian’s mouth was a silent ‘O’ of shock. “You told Russ to—”

“Go fuck himself,” she finished, fastening her seatbelt and setting her purse primly on her lap.

“Oh my god, Lara,” Killian’s shock had faded into laughter and he was nearly shaking with delight. “I don’t think anyone has ever said that to Russ. At least not to his face.”

That couldn’t be true. Russ was such an aggressive, presumptive asshole. There is no way that he hadn’t been told to fuck off dozens, if not hundreds of times. Lara said as much, but Killian just shook his head as he steered the jeep out of the parking lot.

“Russ pretty much just does what he wants around here,” Killian explained.

“And why does everyone let him?” Lara complained. “He’s not the king of the world. This is a small town, not a damn monarchy.”

“It might as well maybe,” Killian said. “It’s just the way Winter’s Lake works: some people are in charge and some people… aren’t.”

This made no sense to Lara. “Why don’t you stand up to him and be one of those people who are in charge?”

Killian just shook his head sadly, eyes intent on the road. Lara recognized this section of dirt highway. They were on the way back to her cabin.

“That’s not the way things work, Lara,” he said. “You can’t change who you are, you just can’t. I’m not a leader. Russ is. It’s just how things are.”

“But—” Lara began.

Killian cut her off. “No. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Things between me and Russ are… complicated. Let’s just leave it at that, shall we?”

The last thing Lara wanted was to leave the conversation on that note, but Killian’s battered old Jeep had reached the driveway of her cabin. He slowed to a stop, yanked the parking brake, and turned toward her.

“If you need any help around here, I’d be happy to come by at any time,” he offered, soft brown eyes nearly black in the shadowed cab of the Jeep. His hand rested on the parking brake, twitching as if he wanted to reach for Lara, but couldn’t muster the courage.

She did it for him, setting her small manicured hand on top of his large, calloused one.

“I’m going to plant some flowers tomorrow,” she said, running her fingers lightly along the back of his hand. “Maybe you could come back by and give me a hand?”

He nodded, daring to smile. “I’ll be by late morning, I guess. Give you some time to sleep in. How about ten o’clock?”

“Bring coffee?”

“Coffee? At ten in the morning?” Killian laughed.

“Hey, don’t judge. I’m still a city girl, ten is early for me,” Lara replied.

“All right, all right, no judgment.” His eyes flicked up to her and he smiled, reaching his free hand up to stroke her cheekbone. “You have a… a thing. Stuck to your face.”

Lara reached up and, sure enough, a wayward strand of highlighted hair was stuck awkwardly to her face. She pushed it back behind her ear, then let her hand hover near Killian’s.

He was looking at her intently, hungrily. No one had looked at Lara like that for years, since she and Bret had started dating way back in college. Although she wasn’t sure that Bret ever looked at her the way Killian was now, with longing and hunger and a raw, animalistic desire, as if he wanted to devour her in one bite.

If Killian’s eyes spoke volumes, however, his actions said nothing. He remained frozen, hand lightly resting on her cheek, eyes boring into her and… did nothing.

Lara was about to say something, try and bridge the impasse at which they’d arrived, but before she could find the words, Killian shuddered violently and snatched his hand away from her face. He glanced out toward the dark woods once, then dropped his gaze to his lap.  Lara let her glance follow his. The trees were thick with darkness and she could barely make out the shapes of the trunks and branches in the low moonlight.

The moon was rising—nearly full, but not quite there yet—but wasn’t high enough in the sky to cast much light.

She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw a dark shape, almost dog-like, crouched menacingly under one of the larger trees where the woods met her dirt yard.

“Did you see—” she began to ask Killian, but he stopped her.

“No.”

How had he known what she was going to ask? It was obviously a lie, a diversion.

Lara looked back into the woods and the shape was gone.

“Good night, Lara,” Killian said softly.

“Will you still come by tomorrow?” she asked, hopeful. His attitude toward her had flipped so quickly, she hoped that she could manage to flip it back.

“I will,” he nodded, still not looking at her, but the tone of his voice was reassuring. “And I’ll bring coffee.”

She slid out of the jeep and slammed the door behind her, trotting up the dark path toward her front porch. She was fishing in her purse for keys when Killian’s voice rang out again.

“Lara?” he shouted across the driveway. “Keep your doors and windows locked for the next few nights, okay? And don’t go out into the woods after dark alone.”

She looked back toward the jeep, hoping to catch his expression to see if he was joking, but the face that peered back at her from the shadows was deadly serious.

“I will,” she promised, feeling very solemn in the moment.

Killian waved and backed down the driveway, headlights cutting through the dark woods that lined Lara’s cabin.

From the depths of the shadowy trees, a park of gold eyes glared out her.

 

* * *

 

Lara awoke to a loud knocking on the front door of the cabin. She threw one arm over her face and frowned. It was far too early to begin the day. Who would have the gall to be bothering her at this hour?

She bolted upright at the realization. Killian!

Lara tossed on a bathrobe and bolted for the door. She wished she had more time to make herself presentable, but she didn’t want Killian to give up and leave. She could show him in, let him hang out in her living room and drink coffee while she quickly showered.

And if, for some reason, he wanted to join her in the shower, she’d absolutely be okay with that.

Wait, what? She thought. What was wrong with her? She’d been broken up (well, maybe broken up) with Bret for a few measly days and she was already fantasizing about jumping into a hot shower with her property manager?

True, he was an insanely hot, finely toned specimen of a property manager, but still. It seemed a bit fast to be actively fantasizing about other men.

Maybe her relationship with Bret wasn’t as strong as she always thought.

Lara padded across the bare wood floor. If something happened between her and Killian, then so be it. She was a single woman (well, probably single) and could do what she wanted. Lara ran one hand through her hair, hoping to calm her messy blonde bedhead and threw open the door, lips pursed in what she hoped was a seductive smile, but it wasn’t Killian knocking on her door.

Russ stood on her front porch.

“Oh, shit,” Lara yelped, slamming the door in his surprised face.

“Lara?” Russ called, hammering on the door with his thick fist. “Lara? Please let me explain…”

“I’ll be there in a second!” Lara shouted back, frantically racing back to the bedroom to pull on pants and sweatshirt. The flimsy robe was fine for Killian, but was absolutely not okay for Russ.

When she pulled the door open again, she was demurely covered by sweatpants, a fully zipped hoodie and a pair of Ugg boots. Russ was still frozen on the porch, gaping at the door and clutching a large bouquet of wildflowers in one hand.

Lara cocked one eyebrow and tried to look nonchalant. “Can I help you?” she asked coolly.

“I want to apologize,” Russ said, thrusting the flowers awkwardly in her direction. Lara crossed her arms across her chest.

“For?” she asked.

Russ sighed and scratched the back of his head. He said nothing.

“Russell,” Lara snapped. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”

“Just take the flowers,” he muttered, glaring at her with those disarming ice blue eyes.

Lara met his glare. “I will take the flowers and accept your apology when you can tell me exactly what you are apologizing for.”

Russ sighed, then dropped his gaze to his feet. “I’m sorry for being a dick last night. I was overbearing and I didn’t mean to be. I apologize if I crossed a line and made you feel uncomfortable.”

That was it?

“And?” Lara asked.

“And?!” Russ looked up at her, shocked. “What else is there?”

“Killian!” Lara continued. “You were terrible to Killian last night.”

Russ crossed his arms across his massive chest, flowers still clutched in one hand. “I’m not apologizing for hurting Killian’s widdle feelings,” he mocked, looking like the world’s largest, most petulant toddler.

“Russell, you bullied him, ruined our dinner date and then ran him off. You owe him an apology.”

Russ sighed, a deep, unhappy groan. “Fine,” he acquiesced. “I’m sorry for my behavior toward Killian, too.”

“Thank you,” Lara responded, finally accepting the flowers. “Come on in, I need to put these in some water.”

Russ trailed obediently behind her, like a well-trained mutt.

“I like your cabin,” he observed, politely. He was clearly trying to be on his best behavior.

“Thank you, Russell,” Lara replied as she searched through a low cupboard for a vase.

“You can call me Russ, you know,” he responded.

“I know, Russell.”

There were no vases in any of the bottom cupboards, so Lara switched her search to the upper cupboards. There, on the tip top shelf was an old green glass vase. She had the vaguest memories of her mother filling it with sunflowers. Lara tried to get it down— reached, stretched, stood on her tiptoes—but she couldn’t manage to grab the vase.

A low rumble sounded behind her and she peered over to see Russ stifling a chuckle.

“Is this entertaining, Russell? Watching a tiny lady desperately trying to reach a top shelf?”

“Actually, it is,” Russ responded. “But only for so long. Here, let me help.” He strode toward her and Lara expected him to push past her and grab the vase himself. Instead, he plucked her up, as if she weighed nothing, and hoisted her up to the top shelf.

Lara froze for a moment, dangling off the ground and staring at the highest shelf in the kitchen, before she gathered her wits and grabbed the green vase.

“Got it,” she told Russ and he lowered her down, not to the ground as she was expecting, but instead setting her so she was sitting on the countertop, knees spread.

He gently plucked the vase out of her hand and set it down next to her.

“Say thank you,” he instructed, leaning so close to her that Lara could feel his warm breath ghost across her face.

“Thank you,” she whispered, too shocked to rely on her usual sass.

Russ leaned in closer, and she was too aware of his deep, steady breathing; the way his dark pupils filled his icy eyes; the black spread of stubble that already covered his sculpted chin, even so early in the day.

Involuntarily, Lara leaned in, surrendering to his intention.

The front door of the cabin banged open and Killian backed in, hands full with two steaming cardboard cups of coffee. “Lara? Good morning, I brought—”

Killian froze at the sight of Russ pressing Lara against the kitchen counter. By some small miracle, he managed to set the coffee cups on the arm of a chair before starting to slink uncomfortably out the door.

“Killian, wait!” Lara pushed Russ away, the spell broken, and rushed toward the front door. By the time she made it out on the porch, Killian was almost at his Jeep—how did he move so quickly?—and Lara had to dash across the dirt driveway to stop him. “Please wait!” she panted, grabbing his thick bicep.

Killian just shook his head, sandy blond hair flying, and looked at his toes. “Sorry, I didn’t realize that you had company,” he muttered.

“I don’t—” she began, but Russ’ voice cut her off.

“And now you do realize it, so back off,” Russ growled. “And get out of here.”

Killian slunk to the driver’s side of the Jeep and Lara wheeled around on Russ. “Don’t you dare tell him what to do, Russell,” she snapped. “He and I had plans this morning, plans that you rudely interrupted. So if anyone needs to leave, it’s you.”

There was silence. A bird chirped merrily in the woods. Lara glanced back and forth between Russ and Killian, whose faces wore matching expressions of shock. Neither man moved.

“Well?” she demanded. Are you going to leave or not?”

Finally, Russ pulled himself up to his full height and descended down the rickety front steps of the old wooden porch, angrily pushing past Lara and heading straight for the Jeep.

“All right,” he muttered. “I’ll go.”

Lara practically sagged with relief.

“I’ll go,” Russ repeated, “For now. But I’ll see you”—this was directed squarely at Killian—“tonight.”

Summoning all his courage, Killian looked right at Russ and stared him in his eyes.

“All right, Russ.” Killian said lowly, his voice a velvet-covered threat. “I’ll see you tonight.”

With that, Russ stalked off into the woods, disappearing between the thick trees.

 

* * *

 

“What do you mean ‘You’ll see him tonight?” Lara asked, leaning back in the old wooden Adirondack chair and gratefully sipping her steaming cup of coffee. She hadn’t had time to properly pick up provisions to stock the cabin and Killian’s visit was a godsend.

It was actually better than the coffee, or the help with the flowers. Killian’s visit drove Russ away and that was an enormous relief.

Russ’ presence confused Lara. He was gruff, egotistical and overbearing, with a horrible sense of entitlement. But there was something else there, too, something deep and primal that pulled Lara toward him. She didn’t like that, not one bit.

The further Russ stayed away from her, the better. That thought covered Killian, too. When he wasn’t near Russ, Killian was sweet and flirtatious. The second Russ showed up, however, Killian retreated back into himself like a kicked dog.

The more that Russ was away from both of them—Killian and Lara—the better things would be.

Although that didn’t help, not with Russ tossing that “I’ll see you tonight” at Killian before he stormed off.

Lara pressed Killian again. “Seriously, what did that mean?”

Killian just shook his head and sighed. “Don’t worry about it, Lara. Some of the guys around here, we get together every so often for meeting sort of things. That’s all Russ meant.”

This made no sense. “Russ meant that you guys were just going to, like, have a fraternity meeting? No, no way, Killian. He threatened you, I know he did.”

“That’s just Russ for you, Lara,” Killian said, sipping his own steaming cup of coffee. “Literally everything the guy says sounds like a threat. It’s just how he is.”

Killian refused to explain any further. He chatted happily about his life in Winter’s Lake as they worked in Lara’s overgrown garden. He told her all about his time as a student at the University of Colorado as they took a quick hike along the lake front. He shared stories of a backpacking trip across Europe as he helped Lara flip over the musty mattress and get some of her furniture rearranged.

The only thing he didn’t talk about, it seemed, was the strange relationship between himself and Russ.

The sun was low in the sky when Killian sat up abruptly and wiped his thick forearm across his sweaty brow. “All right,” he sighed, standing up and brushing the dirt from his hands across the front of his jeans. “I guess I should be getting home, Lara.”

“Wait,” she said, rising up to meet him. “Thank you, Killian.”

“It was no problem, just a little gardening…”

Lara shook her head. “I don’t just mean that. I mean, thank you for just being here. I’ve had a hard week and it really helped having you around today.”

Killian smiled, a soft grin that spread over his handsome face. “I’m glad I could help,” he told her, wrapping Lara’s small frame up in his massive arms.

The warmth of his embrace felt amazing and safe. Lara trembled and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close to her.

She desperately hoped she hadn’t been misreading him, because every sign he dropped (well, every sign that wasn’t around Russ) seemed to point to flirtation.

Pressing her body flush against him, Lara pushed herself up on her tiptoes toward his mouth. She loved the feeling of his warmth against her, the firmness of his toned chest against the soft fullness of her breasts.

Her instincts had been right. Killian dropped his head toward her, cupped her jaw softly in one strong hand and pulled her toward him, drawing her into a soft kiss.

Killian’s lips were softer than Lara imagined. There was a bit of dry scrape as she relaxed into the kiss, but that melted away as his mouth welcomed hers, pressing hungrily against hers. His arms tightened around Lara and she melted against him, forgetting where she ended and Killian began.

His hands roamed her back—stroking, caressing, and searching—and came to rest on the full crease of her butt. With one swift lift, Lara was lifted off the ground as Killian drew her up to him, holding her up in his arms as he explored her wanting mouth.

“Killian,” she whispered softly, in one of the brief moments when he allowed her mouth freedom. “Killian!” More urgent this time.

He didn’t reply, but kissed down her neck, dropping a trail of soft kisses down her delicate skin, and paused at her collarbone, sucking hard at that juncture of bone and flesh.

Electricity flashed through Lara. She’d never felt like this, never been held like this, never been wanted like this. Lara threw her head back, blond hair spilling wildly, and moaned his name—Killian!—urging him on.

There was the slightest scrape of teeth on the soft skin of her neck, just a whisper of a nip. Lara felt heat gathering low in her belly and she clawed her nails down Killian’s arms, urging him on.

It took her a moment before she realized that he’d gone still. Lara opened her eyes and Killian was gazing down at her, eyes wide with fear.

“Did I just bite you, Lara?” he whispered.

“A little,” she replied. “But only a little. Besides biting is definitely on my ‘yes list.’” Lara smiled up at him, hoping her expression was seductive rather than creepy. Killian just stared at her, then hastily set her down. His hands flew to her throat, frantically searching the skin there.

After a moment, he seemed satisfied. “Thank god,” he said. “I didn’t break the skin. Thank god.”

“Killian, what are you talking about?” Lara was beyond confused. A moment ago, she and Killian had been well on their way to bed and now he was behaving like an emergency room doctor.

“Sorry, I was just… sorry,” Killian replied.

Lara took another try at seduction. “It’s getting late,” she said. “Maybe it would be better if you just stayed over?”

Her casual attempt to get Killian in bed epically failed, however, as his brown eyes flew to the window and his expression grew panicked.

“Oh god, oh my god,” Killian cursed, grabbing his things and digging through his pants for the keys to the Jeep. “I’m so sorry, Lara, but I need to go.”

“Killian—“

“No!” he snapped, looking frantic. “I really need to go now.”

Killian dashed to the door and began to let himself out.

“Lara?” he said, turning back to her right before he disappeared out the door. “Stay inside tonight, okay?”

She nodded mutely, still too hurt and surprised to form words.

Then Killian was gone, the door behind him closing with a solid click.

Lara dragged herself to bed, too sad and embarrassed to bother with properly washing up. As she pulled the covers over her head and drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard the faint cry of a wolf somewhere deep in the forest.

 

* * *

 

The next morning dawned gray and hazy, as if the world understood Lara’s foul mood and wanted to help her wallow in her sad state of self-pity. She threw on her trusty pair of sweatpants and tattered old hoodie and dragged herself out into the kitchen. By some stroke of luck, Killian had brought her some extra coffee beans the previous morning, before his freak out at sundown, so she was able to brew a small pot of coffee for herself.

This morning was going to be terrible enough without a coffee shortage. If Lara was going to make it through the day, some heavy caffeinating was definitely in order.

Much to her surprise, Killian was already sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs on the deck, his hulking form hunched over himself and his face buried in his hands.

“Killian?”

His head whipped up at the sound of her voice. Killian’s soft brown eyes were sad and he had dark purple smudges circled beneath them. He looked exhausted, like he hadn’t slept all night.

“I’m sorry to drop by unannounced,” he began, “but Russ thought I needed to talk to you sooner rather than later—”

“Russ?” Lara was shocked. Yesterday, Killian had seemed ready to stand up to the town bully and now, here he was, backing down again. “Why does Russ get to decide what goes on between you and me, Killian?”

“Stop, Lara,” Killian snapped. Lara had never heard him use this tone with her before. “You don’t understand, this is bigger than me, bigger than you, okay? Just—just leave it, okay?”

“Leave it? No, Killian, I refuse to just ‘leave it,’” Lara said. “I like you, all right? I mean, if we were in middle school, I’d say I ‘like you like you,’ but we’re not in middle school. We are grown-ass adults and grown-ass adults can admit when they’re attracted to someone: I’m attracted to you, Killian.”

He said nothing, just curled in on himself in the chair.

“What we started last night,” Lara said. “I want more of that, okay? I want to get to know you, spend time with you, take you to bed. I want to—“

“No, Lara!” Killian found his voice again. “We can’t, okay? We just… can’t.”

“Killian, you can’t possibly be telling me that you don’t feel the same about me. I felt something between us yesterday. Hell, I feel something between us now and I—“

“It doesn’t matter, Lara. It’s not about what you want or what I want. It’s about what Russ wants.”

Lara nearly choked. “Russ?! Russ has absolutely no say in my life—”

“But he has a say in mine,” Killian admitted. “It’s weird and I can’t explain why, all right? But just trust me on this one. Russ has decided that he wants you—”

“—But what if I don’t want him—”

“It doesn’t matter, Lara,” Killian said. “If you don’t want him, okay. That’s fine. You don’t have to have him. But the problem, Lara, is that he wants you. And as long as he feels that way, I can’t take what is his.”

Everything about this seemed wrong.

Lara tried to reason with him, but Killian just kept brushing her off until he couldn’t seem to stand it anymore.

“I need to go,” he said, and set off running into the woods, letting the dense trees swallow him into nothingness.

He didn’t have his Jeep with him, Lara realized. He’d come all this way on foot.

It occurred to Lara that she didn’t know how long “all this way,” was exactly. She had no idea where Killian lived. She had no idea where Russ lived.

Well, she was about to find out.

 

* * *

 

Lara spent the majority of the day exploring Winter’s Lake, inquiring about the whereabouts of Killian or Russ, or even just their addresses or directions to their homes. The townspeople were polite in their lack of assistance, but Lara couldn’t help feeling that she was being intentionally misled.

It wasn’t until the sun had dipped low in the sky that she finally found Russ, crouched over the bar in Dusty’s. The bar was surprisingly quiet, there was no sign of other patrons or even a bartender.

Good, Lara thought, let’s keep this between Russ and me.

She set her chin and strode purposefully toward Russ.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.

He didn’t glance up at her, just took an extra long swig of his beer.

“I said, ‘what the hell do you think you’re doing, Russell?” she repeated, letting a little more venom fill her usually soft voice.

Finally, Russ turned toward her, his icy blue eyes tired.

“What I do in my own town isn’t any business of yours, Lara,” he mumbled, taking another long drink.

Lara fumed. “It is my business when it affects me and my friends.”

“Oh, Killian’s your friend now, is he?” Russ’ voice was cruel, mocking. “You wouldn’t be so eager to be friends with him if you knew what I know, Lara.”

She didn’t have an answer for that mysterious statement, so she just plunked herself on the barstool next to Russ and waited for him to divulge more information.

He didn’t take her bait, though. Russ just stood up and went around the side of the bar to help himself to another bottle of beer from the cooler. “You want one?” he offered, as if he owned the place.

“Shouldn’t you wait for a bartender?” Lara asked. In LA, going behind the bar to help oneself to a drink was an unthinkable idea. But it was slowly becoming very clear to Lara that life in a small town, life in Winter’s Lake, was very, very different from life in Los Angeles.

“The wait staff went home for the night,” Russ answered, thunking a bottle of Budweiser in front of her, tearing the bottle cap off with one swift twist of his strong hand. “This town shuts down early, Lara, unlike LA.”

She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her.

Russ continued. “Most people around here turn in fairly early.” He gazed out the window at the dark sky. The moon hadn’t risen yet, but Lara knew that, when it did, it would be full and fat.

“Well, I’m not most people,” she announced, stating the obvious. “And you and I need to have a little chat.”

Russ didn’t return to his seat. Instead, he circled back behind her and set one thick hand on her slender shoulders. “Chat away,” he said. Lara shuddered at this touch. There was something undeniably electric about Russ, an underlying current of attraction that she wanted to push away, bury deep within her.

“Whatever beef you have with Killian,” Lara said, shoving her attraction away with a show of bravado, “it needs to stop now.”

She could feel his laugh travel down his hand, could feel his shaking in her shoulders.

“Don’t laugh at me, Russell,” she said. “I’m serious.”

“I’m serious, too, Lara,” he replied, spinning her stool around so she faced the broad expanse of his muscled chest. “Killian and I had a little talk last night and we came to the same conclusion: you’re mine.”

She pushed him away, forced herself out of his space until the small of her back was pressed firmly against the old, chipped wooden bar. “You don’t get to make decisions for me, okay?”

He cocked one thick black eyebrow and smirked down at her. “I’m not making any decisions for you, Lara. You’re your own person and I can’t control that. A fact, by the way, that you’ve made abundantly clear. I can, however, control Killian. He and I agreed that it would be best for all involved if he took himself out of the equation.”

Lara was speechless. Killian had agreed to that?  He’d agreed to just walk away from her?

Russ continued. “We talked about it, we fought about it and, in the end, he lost. I won. If you choose anyone in this little town, it’s going to be me.”

Lara opened her mouth to argue, to defend Killian, to defend herself, but found herself captivated by Russ’ icy blue eyes. There was something deep within their artic depths, something dangerous and intoxicating. Instead of speaking, she leaned forward and found that her hands were drawn to his thick biceps, stroking the flannel shirtsleeves that covered his firm flesh.

What was she doing?

Russ reached one hand down to her, lifting her chin up with one finger, pulling her gaze closer to his own.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he informed her, his voice deep and commanding. “You can say no.”

Lara said nothing, but found herself drawn into his personal space, suddenly overwhelmed by the earthy scent of him, so close to her now.

Her mouth began to move. “Yes,” she heard herself saying.

And that was all she had to say. Russ’ mouth was on hers, dominating her, exploring her. The press of his kiss was so eager, so wanton, that she moaned involuntarily against his mouth. Russ didn’t pull back, the way Killian would have done. Instead, he delved deeper, parting her soft, full lips with his eager tongue. Her own tongue lapped at his, inviting the exploration.

Russ pulled her to him and she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking herself on to him.

Lara had never felt such abandon, such recklessness. She knew she didn’t like him, but she found that she needed him.

A hardness pressed between her legs, a sure sign of Russ’ own need and arousal. All thoughts of Killian vanished from Lara’s mind as she rocked her hips into Russ’ need, driving her soft mound against his erection. A flood of wet warmth soaked her panties. This was different, this was primal.

With Killian, she felt soft attraction, a warm affection settling deep within her loins. With Russ, however, she was driven by instinct, a base, animalistic need to rip his clothes off, rut wildly on the bar, allow him to claim her.

“Russ,” she moaned, the intensity in her voice shocking to her ear. “Russ!”

He had his hands buried in her hair now, pulling her head back with his strong hands so his clever mouth could nip along the soft skin at her throat.

His hands tightened around her waist and he pulled her up to the bar, pushing her skirt up around her hips and exposing her black silk panties, the wet patch in her crotch evidence of her desire and wanting.

Lara knew she should tell him to stop, knew she should slow things down. She knew all these things, but she didn’t want any of them. She wanted Russ, wanted the solid maleness of him on top of her, claiming her.

Russ slid down to his knees in front of her. He was so tall that his head was level with the bar top, level with her entrance, open and exposed through her spread thighs. He kissed her knee, then let the warm wetness of his mouth move up the soft skin of her inner thigh. His stubble scratched the skin there, burned her, and she only wanted more, more, more.

Lara froze as Russ nuzzled the damp crotch of her black panties, then took them between his teeth and tore them off of her as if they were made of tissue.

Those were expensive, she vaguely thought and then all conscious thought left her as Russ’ eager tongue lapped at her entrance. A new rush of warmth flooded her and Russ worked inside her with, tongue probing and exploring the inviting softness of her pussy.

Lara settled back on her elbows, head back and mouth panting, as Russ worked one thick finger inside of her. His tongue abandoned her entrance, letting his finger do the work there, and instead it concentrated on her clit, sucking and licking and driving her toward madness.

“Russ!” Lara heard herself cry again. She was on fire, she was shaking, she needed something, needed release.

Russ didn’t reply, just redoubling the pace of his tongue, lapping at her with such speed and force that Lara knew she wouldn’t last long. He added a finger, stretching her open with two of his strong digits now, and Lara barely had a moment to wonder what his cock would feel like inside of her before she started to shake with tremors of her climax.

“Russ!” she screamed, his name falling from her lips in a litany of want. “Russ, Russ, Russ…” she moaned, and then she was gone, lost in a haze of pleasure and release.

When she finally stopped shaking, Lara fell forward, teetering on the edge of the bar before Russ stopped her descent with his strong embrace.

“Russ,” she murmured against the soft plaid of his shirt.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, strangely caring and kind. “I’ve got you, Lara.”

They stayed like this, holding each other on the edge of the bar for several long, tender moments. Suddenly, Lara’s brain snapped back into itself.

“I need to go,” she practically yelped, pushing herself off the edge of the bar and staggering toward the door, her black panties forgotten on the floor of Dusty’s. “Thanks, Russ, that was… that was really amazing, but I need to—”

Russ grabbed her before she could reach the door and vanish into the night. Through one window, the moonrise was visible over the dense trees of the forest.

“You can’t go, Lara,” he said, blue eyes wide.

She pulled her arm away, but he held firm. “What did we just say about you making choices for me, Russell?”

“This isn’t for fun, Lara,” Russ said.

“Then what—?”

He threw her over his shoulder and headed into the back of the bar. “This isn’t about choice, Lara, this is about your safety.”

“Russ!” she pounded his broad shoulders with her tiny fists. “Russ, put me down!”

He didn’t put her down, instead dragging her through the kitchen and down a steep set of wooden stairs to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs, at the far end of the cellar, was a metal cage. It was clearly designed to hold the bar’s stock of alcohol—the space was full of cases of beer and bottles of booze—but there was definitely room for person in there. A small person. A Lara-sized person.

“Russ!” she shouted again, but knew it was futile.

Russ tossed her in the metal cage and closed the chain-link door with a rueful smile. “I’m sorry about this, Lara, I really am, but it’s for your own good.”

He clicked a padlock onto the door and stepped back.

“Russ, let me out of here right now,” Lara commanded, but her plea fell on deaf ears.

“I’ll let you out,” Russ said. “Tomorrow morning. For now, you stay put, little Lara.” He disappeared up the stairs, heavy work boots clanking on the rickety wooden steps. Lara could hear him tramp across the bar upstairs, then a door slammed, then silence.

“Russ!” she screamed once more.

There was no more sound.

After pacing the small space, Lara agreed that an escape attempt was futile. The metal cage that was designed to keep boozehounds out was effectively keeping her in.

She sank to the floor and pulled her knees into her chest, finding a position that was comfortable enough to sleep in. As she drifted off, she could hear a cacophony of howls echoing through the forest around the bar.

 

* * *

 

‘Shocked’ was not an adequate enough word to describe the expression on the bar manager’s face when the little, middle-aged woman discovered Lara locked in her liquor cage the next morning.

“Thanks!” Lara shouted over her shoulder to the manager as she sprinted up the stairs toward her car. Hopefully, it was still in the parking lot of Dusty’s, that Russ hadn’t hotwired it or, more likely, just picked it up with his freakish strength.

The little Honda Civic was exactly where Lara had left it the night before. Thank god for small miracles.

She gunned the engine and sped off in the direction of her cabin. Lara had big plans that day to find Russ and make him explain just what the hell he thought he was doing last night, giving her the best orgasm of her life and then unceremoniously locking her in the basement of a bar. But first she needed to get back to her cabin and wash the smell of Russ (and the stench of stale liquor from the basement) off of her body.

She whipped the car along the dirt highway and sped down her driveway, screeching to a halt in a cloud of dust. Lara didn’t even lock the car behind her, just wrenched the key from the ignition and sprinted up the steps to the front porch.

Lara froze.

There, right in front of her door where a welcome mat would be, was Killian, curled up in a tight ball and completely, totally naked.

For a moment, Lara thought he might be dead. That Russ had completely lost his mind and killed his rival, dumping Killian’s body on her doorstep in a show of primal dominance.

But no. Killian’s sides rose and fell as he slumbered deeply on the rough, old wood of the porch.

“Killian?” Lara barely whispered, and he jerked awake, eyes wide and panicked.

“Lara!” Killian breathed, but it was a strange mixture of fear and relief. “Lara, I didn’t get in last night, did I?”

Lara shook her head. What a bizarre question.

“Were you drunk last night, Killian?” she asked, searching for a suitable explanation for Killian’s naked vigil at her front door.

“No, I wasn’t drunk, I was—” Killian began, then paused. “I guess you could say I was intoxicated last night, out of my mind. I’m so sorry, Lara, did I hurt you?”

“Did you hurt me? No, Killian, you didn’t hurt me.”

“Oh, thank god,” he said.

“I wasn’t even here,” she admitted.

Killian’s brown eyes narrowed. “You weren’t here? Where were you?”

“I was…” Lara didn’t really know how to explain the previous night. How to explain to Killian that she’d spent the evening sprawled out on the bar at Dusty’s while his rival brought her to climax with his tongue and hand, that she’d then been held prisoner in the dank basement of the only bar in town.”

Killian’s nostrils flared. “You were with Russ,” he said flatly. “I should have known.” He stood up to leave, unfolding his lithe, naked body in full view of Lara. He was exquisitely sculpted, perfect in every detail. Lara tried her best to keep her eyes on his face, but they couldn’t help but wander south, down his washboard abs and resting on the soft patch of blond hair between his legs.

Killian was beautiful.

Her stomach dropped. What had she done? Why had she succumbed to Russ’ primal charms when someone like Killian—someone sweet and charming and gorgeous—was waiting for her? What was she even thinking?

“Killian, I’m sorry,” Lara said, but he cut her off with one sharp flick of his hand.

“It’s fine, Lara, it’s fine,” he told her. “We agreed that you’re Russ’. It’s only right that you went to him.”

Killians eyes widened. “Oh, no, Lara. He didn’t bite you, did he? Are you bleeding anywhere?” Killian rushed to her and dropped to his knees, hands rapidly exploring Lara’s flesh for sign of injury. If he was surprised to find her panty-less, his manners were too good to allow him to mention it.

“I’m okay, Killian,” she assured him and he sank back onto his heels, relief flooding over his handsome face.

“Thank god, Lara,” Killian breathed. “If he’d bitten you—”

“You know I’d never be that foolish, Killian.” Russ’ commanding voice rang out across the yard.

Lara and Killian both whipped around to stare at him as he strode toward them. The flannel shirt he’d been wearing the night before was ripped to shreds over his solid torso and his jeans were a soggy mess. There were no shoes on his feet.

“Russ, you need to leave,” Lara said, but the tremor in her voice was too strong to be ignored.

“That’s not what you said last night, Lara,” he retorted, his tone mocking.

Lara turned to explain to Killian, tell him everything and beg him for forgiveness, but Killian was looking at the ground, head bowed in shame.

“Killian?”

He just shook his head.

Russ joined them on the porch and leaned against the railing, arms folded. “Ask Killian what he did last night, Lara.”

“Russ, don’t—” Killian begged.

“Okay, if you don’t want to tell her, I’ll show her,” Russ said, and gestured to the front door of Lara’s cabin. Ugly, deep scores marred the wood, as if some massive animal had tried to claw its way into the house.

“What… what happened?” Lara asked.

“Killian happened,” Russ explained.

Lara turned to Killian and he finally looked at her, his face full of regret and sadness. “Killian?”

“It was me,” he admitted, dropping his head again. “I stayed here all night, I think. I have a hard time remembering on full moon nights, but I’m pretty sure I stayed here all night, trying to get in to you. Russ came and tried to stop me, but I kept coming back.”

Lara stared. “I don’t understand,” she finally managed. “How did you do something like that, Killian? You’re just a man.”

A low chuckle sounded behind Lara and then faded into a menacing growl. She turned slowly around and, in the place where Russ had stood only moments before, was a large black timber wolf.

Lara was about to run, about to open her mouth and scream but, in an instant, the wolf was gone and Russ was back in his place against the railing.

She stood froze, trembling. “I… I don’t understand,” she said.

Killian put one hand on her arm. “Let me explain.”

 

* * *

 

Once they were back in the house and Killian had draped himself in a blanket, he and Russ told Lara the whole truth.

They were brothers, kind of, but not the kind of brothers that Lara was used to.

Killian and Russ ran in a pack together, a small pack now, just the two of them. Winter’s Lake had a long tradition of magic and mysticism and was a draw for supernatural creatures of all kinds. Fairies flitted through the woods, vampires were known to drop by and a pack of werewolves had guarded the town before there even was a town.

“My father passed his dark gift along to me,” Killian told her. “He allowed himself to be bitten when he was a boy, so he could help protect Winter’s Lake, and so I allowed the same thing.”

The founding families of Winter’s Lake had passed the duty down from father to son for generations, ensuring that the town of humans had its own form of supernatural protection from whatever might emerge from the vast woods surrounding the city limits.

“So… you’re werewolves?” Lara asked, stunned.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Russ smirked.

“It’s more complicated than that, Lara,” Killian explained.

The wolves of Winter’s Lake weren’t mindless werewolves, enslaved to the full moon. These wolves, these shifters, could take their form whenever it suited them, but during the full moon—the night before, the night of, and the night after—they lost control of their transformation and became true werewolves, mindless and vicious.

“It’s a small price to pay, really, for the gift of shifting,” Killian said. “Normally, we lock ourselves up on those nights, but last night…”

“Last night, Killian was having an emotional breakdown and forgot to secure himself,” Russ said.

“Can you just stop, Russ?” Lara snapped. “I’m so sick and tired of you bullying him and—”

Lara stopped. Something was beginning to click.

“You’re a pack, right? The two of you?”

Both men nodded.

“And wolf packs have a leader, don’t they? An… what do you call it?”

“An Alpha,” Russ replied, and Lara needed only to look at the smirk on his face to know which one of the boys was the Alpha in this pack. Of course.

“So when Russ told you to leave me alone, Killian…”

“I had to obey him,” Killian looked deeply ashamed, humiliated. “I’m sorry, Lara. I like you, I have… feelings for you. But you understand that I can’t act on them if my Alpha says I can’t.”

“Russ, you absolute bastard,” Lara snapped.

“Hey! It’s not all my fault, Lara,” Russ replied. “My emotions, my human feelings, get tamped down by my wolf instincts. It’s an Alpha’s job to improve the pack, claim females. I don’t want to do that, don’t want to crush Killian, but sometimes I just can’t help it.”

“So just because you have higher status in your pack, that means you can just take whatever, or whoever, you want?” Lara asked.

Both men nodded.

“And I don’t get any say in this, do I?”

They shook their heads.

Lara bit her lip, thinking for a moment. “Russ, as long as you can claim me, then your wolfish instincts are sated?”

“Yes,” Russ replied.

“And Killian, you could only have me if Russ says you can,” she continued.

“Pretty much,” Killian sounded mortified.

“What if…” Lara paused for a moment, trying to plan her next words very, very carefully. “What if you both shared me?”

Two pairs of eyes, soft brown and ice blue, peered at her warily.

“What do you mean?” Killian asked finally.

“If Russ has me, claims me, then is Killian free to have me next?”

“Lara, what are you saying?” Russ’ face was stony.

“I’m saying that, ever since I’ve gotten here, I’ve found myself attracted to you both. Yes, Russ, you’re a dick, but there was something about you that… I don’t know. I can’t explain it, but there was something there.”

Russ nodded.

“And Killian…” Lara trailed off. She didn’t know how to put her feelings towards Killian into words. The attraction, the warmth and safety, the… love.

Russ didn’t wait for her to answer, for her to explain herself to Killian. Instead, he crossed to her and dropped to his knees in front her.

“Are you saying that you would endure me in order to have Killian?” he asked.

“No, Russ, no,” Lara argued. “That’s not what I’m saying at all. I’m saying that I want you. I want you to take me, hard and fast, with the same ferocity that you showed last night. But I also want Killian. When you’re done with me, when you’ve had your fill, I want to be with Killian. Please.”

Russ glanced toward Killian, still wrapped in a blanket on the couch, and then back at Lara. “I think that is acceptable,” he announced.

“Thank you—” Lara began, but Russ was on her then, lifting her up from the couch and cradling her in his strong arms.

He carried her down the short hall to her bedroom, shouting back over his shoulder. “Killian, come on. That’s an order from your Alpha.”

Killian couldn’t get there fast enough.

Russ threw Lara down on her bed, ripping the remainder of her clothing off of her and stripping off his own tattered clothing. Killian had no such encumbrances, his clothes were probably in pieces somewhere on the forest floor, but he let the blanket fall from his shoulders, exposing the full glory of his naked body.

“Get her ready for me,” Russ ordered and Killian didn’t hesitate.

He fell onto the bed and buried his head between Lara’s knees, lapping at her with his eager, willing tongue.

Lara moaned once, then lost herself in the pleasure of being serviced by the man that she’d wanted for so long. She was excited, hungry, and it didn’t take Killian’s tongue long to soak her waiting entrance.

“Killian,” she breathed, then, “Russ!”

Obediently, Killian moved aside to allow his Alpha to claim her. Russ flipped her over onto all fours, then entered her with a single, determined thrust. Lara threw her head back and shrieked with pleasure at the intensity of the thrust.

Russ pushed into her deeper, swirled his hips to give all of her a taste of the hard base of his cock, then set a steady rhythm, swift and unyielding, claiming what was, by pack rights, his.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lara caught a glace of Killian kneeling on the bed next them, bright brown eyes watching intensely as his Alpha fucked into Lara with frightening intensity. His hands idly stroked his cock, keeping himself hard and interested for his turn which, judging by Russ’ harsh breathing and piston-like thrusts, wouldn’t be long.

With a howl of desire, Russ thrust into Lara one last night, his climax spilling deep inside of her. He held her hips to him as he spent himself and then shuddered, the intensity of his surrender shaking Lara to her very core.

She dropped her head and collapsed face down onto the bed as Russ slid out of her.

“Are you okay?” Killian’s soft voice whispered in the shell of her ear.

She hummed with contentment. “Mmmm, hmmmm,” Lara managed. “You now, Killian. Please?”

Killian looked at Russ for permission and the Alpha’s blue eyes were bright with anticipation.

“You may have her, Killian,” Russ allowed.

Killian was gentle as he turned Lara over on her back.

“I want to see you,” he explained, rough hands running down her body, tracing soft circles around each supple breast. “You are so beautiful, Lara.”

He kissed her then, soft and shyly, as if he were unable to believe that she was actually his. Lara felt another hand in her hair. Russ was leaning over both of them, a sly smile dancing across his face.

“I want to watch you, Lara,” he whispered. “I want to watch you come for my boy.”

Killian lined the head of his cock up with Lara’s wet entrance and slowly, so slowly, he inched inside of her. The walls of her pussy were still sensitive from the primal pounding Russ had just given her and every thrust from Killian sparked a new mix of pleasure and pain.

He started slowly, sliding the full length of his lovely cock in and out of her, letting Lara savor every bit of him, until his strong forearms were shaking from the effort of holding himself over her.

“Killian,” she begged. “Faster.”

Lara didn’t have to ask twice. Killian drove into her, his need growing with every single thrust. Lara’s hips bucked up into his, driving him on—harder, faster—toward her own climax.

She felt a finger gently caress her clit and she looked down, shocked to see Russ’ hand buried in her crotch as Killian fucked into her.

“Oh!” she managed and then she was gone, overwhelmed by the sheer pleasure of being shared by these two beautiful men. Lara’s climax ripped through her small body and, as she trembled with her own release, she could feel Killian seize up and spill inside of her, cumming with a low moan.

Then stayed like that, joined together, until Lara thought she might be in danger of being crushed. Killian slowly removed himself from her, then pulled her around to his front, intending to wrap his arms around her and spoon her.

Russ stopped him with one hand, then quickly repositioned everyone on the bed. Lara resting against Killian’s back, Russ protectively wrapped around Lara.

This was nice, Lara thought, happy to be a strange new addition to the wolf pack of Winter’s Lake.

 

THE END