“Hang on,” Luke said to Isabelle. He shifted her slight weight in his arms to shut the door to his room without dropping the grocery bag dangling from his wrist. The lock closed with a satisfying click.
The way her eyes widened was so cute. That’s right. We’re all alone now, sugar. He couldn’t fight the stupid grin spreading across his face as she blushed.
Laying her on the bed, Luke took advantage of the position to stick his nose into her hair once more, drawing in her scent. The essence of illness and injury still clung to her and his wolf wrinkled his snout at the trace sourness.
While they were in the kitchen, the evidence of her pain had dispelled enough of the lust from his head to pull back from her, a bare second before a herd of rowdy juveniles burst in looking to raid and pillage. The expression on Isabelle’s face when she realized where his hands had been...
“What’s so funny?” Isabelle swung her legs over the side of the bed and slowly bent to stretch them. White lines appeared around her mouth and he bit his tongue to keep from telling her to stop.
She looked at him expectantly.
“Oh. Uh.” His face warmed as he tried to think of something that wouldn’t earn him one of her frosty death glares. Words were overrated. He tried a preemptive thaw instead with a heated look, letting her know exactly what he’d been thinking.
The pretty pink on her cheeks deepened and spread. Even her ears turned crimson. Nice. He traced the curve of one, making her shiver.
His wolf pressed against his skin, seeking the touch of its mate, too. There was nothing Luke wanted more than to crawl into bed with her, make her his in every way. But that wasn’t what Isabelle needed right now. No matter how much he wanted to claim her, or at the very least, wrap her in cotton wool and hide her away from the world, neither of them had that luxury.
Turning away so she didn’t see what it cost him to leave her sitting there, he walked around the bed and tossed the grocery bag on the little table next to his leather chair.
He spun to face her. “You need to shift again. Tonight.”
“What? Here?”
He followed her wide-eyed gaze around the stone chamber. “Yes, here. It’s safe, secure. Contained.”
She swallowed audibly. “You think I’ll hurt someone. Out there.”
It sounded like she believed that. Utterly.
“Do you remember anything about shifting before?”
Skin gray, she shuddered and wrapped her arms around her torso, like she was trying to hold herself together. “Not—not really. It hurt. I remember that. And it—the wolf—it was pissed.”
“I imagine.” At her sharp look, he added, “She’s been cooped up for a long time, Isabelle. Whatever your reasons, you put her in a cage. That’s bound to have ticked her off.”
“Her.” Isabelle said the word like it was foreign. “You keep calling it her.”
“That’s because she’s female. Your wolf is part of you, sugar. The sooner you accept that and her, the sooner you’ll get along.”
She snorted. “What if she doesn’t want to get along?”
“She’ll come around.”
“Right. You can’t know that.”
Not touching her made him twitchy, so he tucked a strand of her long brown hair behind an ear. “I’m not going to lie to you. She’s probably gonna give you a hard time. She’s strong-willed. She proved that when she fought her way through the mountains to get here.”
The trapped look in his mate’s eyes told him she was getting ready to balk, so he talked right over her objections. “Doesn’t matter how stubborn your wolf is, sugar. If you want to get stronger, you’re going to have to go through the change. It speeds the healing process. You’ll just have to be more hardheaded than she is.”
Isabelle huffed a rueful laugh. “That shouldn’t be a problem. My foster father says I have the hardest head he’s ever seen.”
Yeah, she was a tough little thing, he’d give her that. “Then we’re all set.”
“Guess so.” She pushed to her feet, fists clenched, and tilted that pugnacious chin of hers.
Damn, but he wanted to kiss the hell out of her.
Narrowed brown eyes focused on him like lasers. “What do I have to do?”
* * *
Izzy waited for Luke to answer and tried not to shake like a leaf. Though what good that would do, she didn’t know. He could probably smell the terror wafting off her like a forest fire.
For more than twenty years, she’d kept the beast inside, locked down so tight, it felt like she carried a hundred pounds of chains around her neck.
All the hair on her body stood up as Luke stepped into her personal space. His heat warmed her better than the fire crackling in the pit.
The beehive in her head turned up the volume. Shut up, you pushy thing, she told the creature living inside her. You’ll get your chance. This is still my time.
Christ. Could a werewolf get huffy?
She shook her head and tried to focus on Luke.
“Still with me?” he asked, head cocked.
“Uh, yeah.”
He continued to stare at her and...breathe.
“Could you stop that?” she snapped.
“Stop what?”
“Sniffing me. It’s so weird.” Great, she sounded like a whiny teenager.
Luke smiled. A big, toothy smile. Then he laughed. He lightly tapped the space between her brows. “You’re cute when you scowl at me.”
“Well, you must find me adorable a lot, then.”
Luke’s laugh made her already-shaky legs wobble. “I do, sugar. I really do.” He cleared his throat and visibly sobered. “Hmm. All right, I—stop glaring. You’ll make me laugh again.”
Damn man—were—male. Whatever.
Izzy spoke through gritted teeth. “Again. What do I have to do?”
“Not much. Your wolf is close to the surface. I can smell how much she wants out.”
Oh, shit. She tried really, really hard not to shudder. She didn’t think she’d pulled it off, though.
The wolf buzzed in her head. What are you, a freaking hornet? Knock it off.
“Don’t be afraid,” Luke said, stroking the backs of his fingers down her cheek. “You’ll be fine.”
Uh-huh. “What about you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, are you going to be safe in here with a...a werewolf? With me?”
Luke smiled again. “I’ll be fine, sugar.” He tapped his chest. “Alpha, remember?”
“So that gives you some special immunity from fangs and claws?”
“No. It means I can back down just about anyone.” He waved her off when she opened her mouth. His voice was soft and deep. “Seriously, Isabelle. Don’t worry about me. You won’t hurt me. Your wolf won’t want to.”
“Why?”
“Trust me?”
“Hmmph.” Everyone screwed up. No matter how much they said they loved you. No matter how much you cared about them. It was a fact of life. Just was.
Luke looked at her knowingly. “You’ll see.”
“Can we get on with this?” There was that snot-faced teen again.
“Sure,” Luke said. “Take off your clothes.”
Going by the noises coming from her mouth, Izzy was pretty sure she’d swallowed her tongue. Was he crazy? Now was so not the time for a roll in the hay, even if he was the only man to ever make her hormones do the cha-cha.
Luke fingered the hem of her shirt. “Want help?”
“No!”
He grinned and held up his hands in surrender, taking a step back.
The buzzing stuttered, like...like a laugh. Are you freaking laughing at me? she growled at the wolf. The sputtering sound got worse.
“You’ll get all tangled up in your clothes if you shift in them,” Luke said. “Then your wolf will shred them trying to get free. In general, we get naked before the change. It’s easier on the wardrobe that way.”
He sounded so reasonable. She wanted to pop him one right in the jaw. It’d been so satisfying before.
“I can undress myself,” she said. At least she hoped she could. The room seemed to be spinning a little.
He turned his palm up as if to say, After you.
“You can turn around anytime, bud.”
He sighed, but gave her his back. “You’ll find we’re pretty casual about nudity around here. Part and parcel with the whole shifting thing.”
“That’s nice.” She had no intention of participating in that bit of hedonism. One, weird. Two...she looked at him standing so tall and strong. Patient. Waiting for her as if he had all the time in the world. Something in her wanted to reach out and touch him, lay her hand on his shoulder, or maybe smooth his perpetually messy hair and let him turn around and look his fill. But she didn’t. Couldn’t. She couldn’t bear the pity in his eyes when he saw all her scars.
Get on with it, already. She reached for the bottom of her shirt. Crap. The bandages on her hands transformed the simple task into a clusterfuck. She couldn’t get a grip and everything hurt as the material dragged over her various cuts and bruises. Plus, a serious case of the shakes with a dollop of lightheadedness didn’t help. She almost fell on her ass half a dozen times.
“Isabelle?”
“I’m fine.”
She had to admit, Luke did a great put-upon sigh.
Finally, sweating and trembling, she was naked. Except for all the bandages. There were quite a few. Damn. She was a mess.
“What now?” she asked.
“Do you hear your beast?” Luke asked.
“Um...”
“Can I turn around, sugar? Please? This would be a lot easier if I could see how you’re reacting. On my honor, I’ll be a gentleman.”
A wisecrack about his trustworthiness sprang to her lips, but she bit her tongue. Over the course of her crap life, she’d learned to believe in people’s actions, not their words. Everything Luke had said—and more importantly, done—matched up. If he’d wanted to hurt her or Freddie, he’d had ample opportunity. But he hadn’t. He’d taken a ton of risks for them. Came to their rescue. Couldn’t she take just this small step?
Arms crossed over her stomach, she said, “P-please. You can look.”
There were no lewd comments, or pitying remarks about scars, or even rebukes about the prominence of her bones. Just a considering look at her face.
“Do you hear your beast?” he asked again. “I think you do. Your eyes are glowing.”
“What?” She clapped her bandaged hands over her eyes. Then promptly slapped them over her bare breasts. Then her mound. Back to her breasts.
Luke’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.
She let her hands fall to her sides as she squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. Fine. She was naked. So what?
His gaze ran over her from head to toe and he didn’t seem so amused anymore. In fact, Luke appeared downright grim. Guess he agreed that she looked totally disgusting after all. Even without the tie-dyed array of bruising and scrapes, she wouldn’t be entering any beauty contests. Freddie was right about her skeletal appearance. She looked like she should be on display with Sue the T. rex at the Field Museum in Chicago.
“Let’s get on with this,” she said. Did she have to peel all the bandages off first?
Yes, apparently, since Luke held out his hand and gave her the “come on” gesture. “Let me help get rid of those. They’ll just tick off your wolf.”
Together they removed the wrappings on her hands and forearm. Christ, the cougar bite on her arm looked bad. She hadn’t watched before as Sarah repaired it. Lots of neat black stitches crisscrossed her arm like intersecting train tracks. The skin was dark pink and swollen, shining with antibiotic cream, and oozing a bit.
She couldn’t contain the “Yuck.”
A low growl rumbled from Luke’s chest and he lifted her by the waist—her naked waist—and set her on the edge of the bed. He clenched his jaw so tightly, if she flicked it with a finger, it might shatter.
“Fucking bastards,” he mumbled, still growling.
“Yeah, um...”
The words died on her tongue because his hot hands were back on her, gently removing the tape at her temple. He took care not to pull her hair or tug at the sore skin. Still, he grimaced and apologized as he worked. After he dropped the gauze on the nightstand, he leaned in and brushed a sweet, soft kiss just below the cut.
What the hell was she supposed to do with that? With him?
Never had a man tempted her like Luke. Who was she kidding? She’d barely found any man remotely interesting, sexually speaking, before. Sure, she could look at an attractive guy and recognize that he’d been assembled well, but none of those gifts from God had really cranked her engine. Frankly, she’d thought something was wrong with her.
Sex was something she tried a few times, found underwhelming, stressful, and weird. She’d discarded the whole idea as not worth the price of admission. The guys either seemed put out by her lack of porn-quality moaning or tripled their efforts—and then became annoyed and offended.
But with Luke, the slightest touch or look sent her heart racing. She couldn’t help thinking he might be worth shelling out for box seats and an all-access backstage pass.
He’s a freaking Alpha werewolf!
Yeah, she must have lost her mind, because even that thought didn’t stop the heat pooling low in her belly. Self-destructive, that’s what this was. Maybe she should call Dr. Phil.
Luke moved on to the swath of bandages covering the claw marks on her hip. She jumped. “Whoa. Okay, sugar? I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said. His green eyes were dark and liquid in the low light, like a lake at dusk.
“Uh...um.” The power of speech was beyond her at the moment since his big, warm hands were working so close to her—“Hey! Uh, why don’t you let me get this one? Huh? Uh, you can take care of my feet. Okay?”
Jesus, what was wrong with her? Her face burned.
That slow, knowing grin that annoyed—and thrilled her, dammit—spread across his face. “Sure thing, sugar.”
He knelt down before her and lifted a foot, his grin turning positively feral.
Oh. My. God.
She’d asked him to leave the bandages on her hip alone so he wouldn’t tempt her by being so near her most private parts, but now Luke’s position gave him a much more intimate view.
Gold flooded his eyes, lighting them up like a torch. Slowly, he licked his lips as if savoring his favorite dessert and she stopped breathing. HolycrapMaryMotherofGod. Flames licked over her skin, burning her alive with the heat of Luke’s attention. Air. Need air! She sucked in a shuddering breath.
He rubbed a hand over his face and sat back on his heels. “Right.” Shaking his head, Luke finished unwinding the bandages on her feet. He stood, then helped her up. She needed the assistance, too. She trembled from head to toe, both from fear and incredible lust.
“Do you hear her?” he said, his voice low and rough. “Your wolf should be screaming at you by now. Just listen to her. She knows what to do. Let her out.”
What the hell was he talking about? The thing didn’t talk to her. Sure, it was giving her a mammoth headache with its droning, but it wasn’t saying anything.
Luke raised his hands next to her face, hovering over her flesh, without touching. Her skin prickled like a current ran between their bodies. He guided his hands over her throat and shoulders, down her arms. Never making contact. Still, she had the strangest sensation of being caressed by fur. She shivered.
“She’s right there, sugar,” he said, his voice quiet and intense. “I can feel her. Close your eyes. Listen. Let her out.”
Ridiculous. The whole damn thing. But Izzy closed her eyes. As soon as she did, the buzzing became a roar. And the fur rubbed on the inside.
She gasped and fell to her knees.
Blinding agony engulfed her. No!
Yes! cried the creature. Triumphant.
* * *
As Isabelle fell to the floor writhing in pain, Luke kept her in his peripheral vision. He couldn’t stand the tortured grimace on her face just before she collapsed, let alone watching her bones break and reform. The sounds, unfortunately, he could do nothing about and his own wolf paced in worried agitation in his head.
Thank the goddess her change only took a few seconds this time. When he’d seen her naked body, painfully thin, bruised, and covered in cuts and scrapes, he’d been terrified Isabelle would go through another horrific shift.
When it was done, the tingling magic dissipated like mist in the sun. He looked at his mate lying on the cold stones next to his bed: a beautiful, albeit skinny, silver-and-white wolf, the edges around her ears and eyes ringed in gentle black. As he bent to touch her heaving side, he discovered that all her fur was highlighted with ebony strands, like the dark spaces between a dense cluster of stars. She practically glowed in the low firelight. What would she look like under the caress of the full moon?
Mate, growled his wolf, pushing at Luke’s inner walls.
Not yet, my friend, he told his beast. I have things to say.
Luke stroked his female’s soft, thick fur and received a respectable growl in response. “Hello there,” he said.
The wolf looked at him and snapped at his hand. It was a half-hearted effort, more a warning than an actual attempt at separating his hand from his wrist.
“Okay. Got it. No touching...yet.”
The wolf rose and shook out her coat from head to tail. With glowing amber-gold eyes, she gave him a baleful look. He shrugged and she curled her lip. Bright white fangs flashed and she growled again, the sound a low rumble, like an approaching train.
He held up his hands. “You’re all right. You’re safe here.”
The growling stopped and she snorted.
Luke grinned and she glared again before edging away to prowl the room’s edges, sniffing. Never did she present her back or let him out of her sight.
The wounds from the werecougar on her right hip and left foreleg looked raw, though she limped very little. Thankfully, the cuts on her head and back leg seemed healed—or at least enough so that they didn’t show through the fur.
Luke let out a relieved breath. At his sigh, the wolf crinkled her nose at him, baring her teeth again.
“You’re even testier than your human, little wolf.”
She snarled and resumed her examination of the room. So cute. Though he was smart enough to keep that opinion to himself.
When his mate’s wolf reached the door to the hall, she chuffed once, her tail high.
“Sorry. Not tonight.”
The look she gave him would have driven almost anyone else to cowering displays of submission. Instead, Luke picked up the bag he’d brought from the kitchen and removed the paper-wrapped package. “Brought you a present.”
She showed immediate interest. Her nostrils flared and she tilted her head back and forth. Actually, he was surprised she hadn’t sniffed it out sooner. It appeared that both Isabelle and her beast had a lot to learn about their own skills.
Slowly, the wolf came toward him at an angle. Her ears lay back against her skull and she held her tail out behind her in a suspicious pose.
“Come on, sweetheart.” He opened the paper, displaying the huge, raw sirloin steak, and set it on the floor at his feet. “I won’t hurt you. You know it.”
Isabelle’s wolf licked her chops, hunger wafting off her.
“It’s okay.” He backed away from her dinner and watched her stalk toward it, her eyes on him with every step. When she reached it and stared at him in challenge, he said, “All yours.”
Ravenous didn’t begin to describe her behavior, and he was glad he’d grabbed the biggest steak they had. His wolf hunkered down in satisfaction to enjoy the sight of their mate being fed.
“She didn’t mean it, you know.”
She rolled her eyes to him. Even without words or the connection that comes from being pack, he understood her angry look perfectly.
“She was afraid. I’m guessing you know that better than I do. She didn’t mean to hurt you.” He rubbed at the ache right above his heart. “Someone hurt her, though, huh? Badly.”
A ferocious growl rumbled from her lips, blood staining her sleek white muzzle.
“Yeah. I want to kill them, too.”
She looked at him for a long moment, then turned to sniff the water bubbling in the pool. Her nose wrinkled and she sneezed twice, then rubbed her nose with a paw.
He chuckled and opened a bottle of water, pouring it into a metal bowl. “Here you go.”
Her imperious expression as she approached the bowl made him laugh even harder.
When she finished, she lay down and sniffed at her injured foreleg. Rage burned in his chest, knowing that one of the flea-bitten bastards that hurt her was still out there.
She licked the wound before turning her glowing eyes to him once more.
“Him, I will definitely kill.”
She sniffed as if to say, We’ll see.
God save him from haughty females.
“So, do you plan on playing nice with Isabelle?”
She looked at him, one brow cocked in a very human gesture.
“You know what I’m talking about. Can you be patient for a little while longer? She won’t ignore you or cage you anymore. I promise.”
She issued a very clear “hmmph.”
“I won’t let her. I won’t let her deny you, or herself anymore. I think you know why.”
Tilting her head, she studied him. Her nostrils flared as she drew in the scents around her, drew in his scent. Her beautiful gold eyes echoed the whiskey color of Isabelle’s human form. She sniffed again, rose, and took a slow step toward him.
That’s right. You can trust me. Come on.
When she reached him, she sniffed his outstretched hand and her eyes glowed brighter. Warm, soft fur brushed his hand, then his leg as she paced around him, her fluffy tail curling over him like a caress. She leaned into him more with every pass, his fingers trailing along her back.
Finally, his mate stopped in front of him and licked his hand. Just once, but his heart and wolf leapt in joy.
She gave him one more imperious look before bounding onto the bed to lie down with her head on her paws. A gusty sigh ruffled the sheets as she watched him, brows cocked.
Luke knew an invitation when he saw one. He quickly shed his clothes, conscious of his mate’s attention as he bared his body to her. Happiness and anticipation buzzed through his veins and he initiated the change before he’d finished kicking off his pants.
Finally free of the confines of his human form, Wolf rose from the stone floor, shaking out his fur.
Mate’s sweet, healing scent invaded his senses. Leaping onto the bed, Wolf landed right next to her and drew her essence into himself. Never would he lose it or mistake it for anything else.
Head raised, she followed his movements, then sniffed him in turn. And when she allowed him to lick her muzzle clean, he threw his head back and howled his joy. The song bounced from the stone ceiling and echoed around the chamber. Answering cries drifted through the heavy door, from both human and wolf throats.
He had his mate, safe in his den. Nothing could be sweeter.