She was walking along the shoulder of the road, again, and didn’t move over when I neared.

“No sense of self-preservation,” I said to myself as I slowed.

She did, however, turn to watch me as I came to a stop beside her.  Her lips were tinted blue with cold.  Shivers racked her body.

“Are you mental?” 

Using more force than necessary, I kicked the stand on the bike and dismounted as I removed my jacket.  She needed the warmth more than I did.

“You’ll freeze out here,” I said when I reached her.  Within seconds, I held her bag and had her covered with my jacket.

She looked up at me.  The way she studied my face gave me equal hope and discomfort.

“Tell me about my sister,” she said, putting her arms through the sleeves of my jacket.

“Sister?”  When I’d checked her house, there had been two scents.  Hers and another very similar.  I’d assumed it belonged to her mother.

“The one who sent you to find me.  You said she was weak.  Did you hurt her?”

Hurt Gabby?  I snorted.

“Not a chance.  Her guard dog doesn’t let anyone near her.”  Not true.  I’d managed.  I smirked at the memory.  “Well, he tried to keep us away.”

Thinking back, I could almost empathize with how he tried to keep us from Gabby.  At the time I’d thought him a pompous prick for keeping us away from a Mate who showed no inclination to Claim him.  Now, I understood.  Kind of.  Gabby was quite a bit older than Bethony, and Clay was still a prick.

I realized my thoughts had drifted when her eyes narrowed, and she closed the distance between us.  Uncertain of her intent, I tensed, ready to defend my jolly boys.

Instead of a raised knee, she reached up and placed her hands on my shoulders.  The cool touch seared me more than any heat ever had.  My tired brain shut down completely as the tips of her fingers dug into my skin and she rose on her toes, bringing her mouth close to mine.  The urge to take, to touch, to taste nearly overwhelmed me.  Her scent wrapped around me, beckoning for more.  I inhaled slowly and glanced at her lips.  Would she taste like she smelled?  I almost leaned in, but something tickled my mind.  There was a reason I shouldn’t.  She exhaled, her breath heating my face.  I licked my lips, savoring the hint of flavor she’d left.  I wanted more.  My vision started to change, and I tried to concentrate on maintaining control.

She leaned in, rubbing her cheek against my jaw.  The move brought her dangerously close to my neck as she pressed against me.  The zipper of my loaned jacket dug into my chest.  My legs felt unsteady, and I gripped her waist, unsure if I wanted to hold her in place or nudge her away.  The feel of her under my hands set my pulse thundering.

“I will not choose you,” she said, her soft words brushing the shell of my ear.

Reality crashed upon me.  She was too young for Claiming.  What was I doing?  I was supposed to be keeping her safe, not snogging her on the side of the road.

When she pulled back, I loosened my grip on her waist and closed my eyes.  I didn’t want to frighten her with the evidence of how close the change was.  The effort didn’t seem to work because on my next inhale, her fear nearly choked me.

I forced the change back and opened my eyes.

“Good,” I said as if nothing had just happened.  “Someone your age shouldn’t be choosing.”

I walked away from her and carefully mounted the motorcycle.  My body ached because of what she’d done.  Maybe later, when my brain moved from south to north, I’d start to wonder why she’d done it.  Right now, I couldn’t stop feeling her tiny frame against mine.

“Coming, Bethony?” I asked, holding out her bag.

“Bethi,” she absently corrected as she stared at me.

Her nickname turned over in my mind a few times.  Bethi suited her more than Bethony.

Finally, she nodded and slowly approached the bike.  When she reached my side, she took the bag and settled the strap across her body.

After her declaration, I’d thought she would have hesitated to touch me.  No touching would have helped calm me.  However, as soon as she settled on the seat behind me, she wrapped her arms around my waist.  It felt too good.  Too tempting.  Fatigue wanted to rob me of resistance.  I clenched my jaw and steeled myself.

“Stay away from my neck,” I said as I lifted my feet and twisted the throttle.

As soon as I’d managed a decent cruising speed, she leaned into me, pressing her chest against my back.  The bike swerved ever so slightly, and I tried to create some distance between us, but she kept following.

“Hold still,” I said.

She backed away for a few seconds then returned.  In addition to her chest against my back, her hands also wandered around on my stomach every few seconds.  The touching was driving me crazy.  But it was nothing compared to when she pressed her cheek to my shoulder blade.  The trust in that move struck a chord I wasn’t ready for.

She sighed heavily, a sentiment I wanted to echo.  Why did she have to feel so good?

Her hold on me loosened.  That was the only warning I had before she started to lean too far to the right.  Panic gripped me as I caught her with my right arm and started to brake.  As soon as we were stopped, I twisted to look at her.

Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed, and her breathing light and even.  She was sleeping.  I pulled her into my lap, shaking.

“What the bloody hell was that?”

Her eyes popped open, and she blinked, seeming not to see me.

“Well?” I demanded.  She blinked again.  Didn’t she realize what had just happened?  If I hadn’t moved when I had…If I had been human or slower…I swallowed hard.  Then, her eyes widened.  She glanced around before she pulled away and eyed me as if just realizing her position in my lap.

“Crap!  Did I fall asleep?”

“While I was flying down the road on a two-wheeled death trap?  Yes!”

She stiffened in my arms.

“Put me down.  Please.”

“Gladly.”

Lifting her off my lap, I gently set her on her feet beside the motorcycle.

She rubbed a hand over her face, then met my gaze.

“I’m sorry.  I’m tired.”

All my anger evaporated.  Thin, tired, and cold.  And I was yelling at her.  She seemed to sense the direction of my thoughts because her gaze hardened.

“Save your pity.  I don’t need it.”

I held up my hands to stave off any argument.  It seemed to be all she wanted to do.  That and sleep.  I voted for sleep, but not until we reached a bed.

“Are you going to fall asleep again?  Because we won’t get far this way.”

“Yes, I’ll most likely fall asleep again.  No matter what I’ve tried, I can’t seem to avoid it.”

“Maybe you should stop avoiding it,” I said, exasperated.  Humans needed sleep.  It was a fact of their lives.  I could see she wasn’t prepared for the facts though.  I sighed, knowing I was going to regret my next words.

“Loosen the strap of your bag as far as it will go, then get on.”

Bethi did as I asked, and once she was behind me, I lifted the strap over my head and tightened it, effectively strapping her to me.

“Take both arms out so it’s around your waist,” I said.  If there was frustration in my words it was because I could feel too much of her front against my back.  I hated that I loved it so much.

“She’s a little more than a child,” I said under my breath, in an effort to bring the situation in perspective.  The words didn’t help as she wiggled against me to position the strap.

“Aren’t you done yet?”

“Don’t bark at me.  This is your idea.”

She finally stopped moving, which I took as a sign she’d finished, and I quickly got us back on the road.  I hadn’t even managed to gain the speed limit when I felt her go slack.  The strap seemed to keep her in place, though, so I kept to the road.

Everything was going fine until she began to twitch.  First, just her fingers moved a bit.  Then her head started to jerk slightly.  When her right leg kicked out, she unbalanced the bike and herself to the left.  I leaned right to counter balance and used my right hand to try to right her as the bike started to slow.  Instead of connecting with her arm, or preferably her shoulder, my palm cupped her breast.

“Bloody hell.”

My brain short circuited at the feel of her soft curve, and instead of squeezing the brake lever, normally an action completed with my right hand, I squeezed her.  Panicking, I jerked the handle bar and almost drove us into the opposite ditch.  Some sense of preservation had me using the rear brake with my foot—as I should have done in the first place.

A car honked and swerved around us.  I realized two things: I’d stopped the bike on the yellow lines; and I still held Bethi’s breast.

Whipping my hand away, I swore again.  She moved loosely behind me but didn’t wake.  How could she still be sleeping?  Not that I wasn’t thankful for it.

I rubbed the sweat from my forehead then moved the bike to the shoulder until my shaking stopped.  It took a few minutes because I could still feel the ghost of that soft mound in my hand.  Rubbing my palm on my pants didn’t help remove the sensation.  Chanting her age in my head did.  Eventually.

Once we got back on the road, she continued to twitch.  I didn’t try to straighten her, trusting the strap to keep her in place.  However, each twitch rubbed her against me, driving me mad.

When I saw a motel ahead, I didn’t hesitate to pull in to the small parking lot.

Bethi’s head jerked upright.  “What are you doing?”

Now she woke up?

“You keep twitching.  You can’t ride sleeping.  It’s not safe.”

“Safety isn’t relevant,” she said.

I parked the bike and started to loosen the strap as she continued to argue.

“Sleeping strapped to you is better than sleeping here.  We need to keep moving.”

“Believe me, I’m all for hurrying, but I’m not going to risk you falling off.”  I lifted the strap over my head, freeing her from my back.  She hurried to dismount.

“I’m not tired anymore.” 

Her pulse and scent gave away the lie.

“I don’t want to stay here,” she said, her scent changing to panic.

“Too bad.  Inside.  Now,” I said, pointing toward the door marked “Office.”

Her pleading gaze wouldn’t sway me.  She needed sleep, and I needed a few hours to try to forget what had happened on the road.

She huffed, turned, and made as if she would start walking down the road.  She made it one step before I used my speed to block her.  We scowled at each other.  Then she yawned hugely and shook her head in an effort to stay awake.

“You are so tired, luv.  Please.  Sleep a few hours,” I said.

Her gaze narrowed.   “As if sleep is what you really have in mind.”

My pulse leapt in panic.  Did she know I’d touched her?  I quickly held up my guilty hands, praying she didn’t know.

“Sleep.  That is all.  I can’t drive fast with you sleeping.  Too many things could happen.  I might not be able to catch you in time.  If we keep going as we are, snow will cover the roads before we reach the Compound.”

“Compound?”

“It’s where Gabby said to bring you.  She promised she would be there.”

She gave me an odd look.  “No one is holding her there?”

“Holding her there?  No.  She...visits.  Honestly, she doesn’t seem to like it very much.”

Probably because it was just a bunch of overcrowded shoddy buildings.  The only reason there were so many of us was because the women had gotten crazy ideas about four walls providing more safety than their own men.  I wasn’t opposed to walls.  I was opposed to the number of people who were all trying to fit in them.

Bethi studied the blacktop a moment before aiming her cynical gaze at me once more.

“I don’t trust you.  But...”  She looked at the motel.  I could see longing in her expression as much as distaste.  “Fine.  I’ll stay.  Just not with you in the same room.”

“Agreed.”

I needed the time away from her as much as she needed the sleep.  Turning, I started for the office and grinned at the sound of her following me.  As soon as she slept, I planned to do the same on the bench outside her door.  I slept lightly enough that I would hear her if she tried to leave without me.

The man behind the desk eyed Bethi as I signed and paid for a room.  I didn’t care for the judgmental look in his eyes when he handed over the key either.

I held the door for her when we left and led the way to the second room.

“I got kicked out of one hotel already.  He’s going to hear me for sure,” Bethi said as she eyed the distance to the office.

“Maybe you won’t have bad dreams,” I said as I unlocked the door.  Stepping aside so she could enter, I ignored her snort of disagreement.

She walked into the room then turned and held out her hand expectantly.  Did she honestly think I’d hand over the key after she just told me she would likely have bad dreams?  I’d broken into several rooms already because of her.  I wasn’t going to do it again.  Especially when the door was in sight of the office and the suspicious clerk.

“I’ll sit on the bench outside and wake you in a few hours.”  I started to close the door.

“The key?” she said impatiently.

“I’ll hold onto it.  Better I wake you when you start getting too loud than the owner.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but I closed the door on her words.  Outside, I cocked my head to listen to the sound of her steps retreat from the door.  A moment later, the bed spring creaked.

Exhaling in relief, I moved away from the door and went to the bench.  Before I could lay down, my stomach growled.  The scent of cooking meat drifting faintly in the air.  The town we were in wasn’t large but was sizeable enough to have at least one restaurant to torment me.  I hesitated on the bench, trying to decide which I needed more.  Food or sleep.

As compelling as it was to find something to eat at the moment, I couldn’t bring myself to leave Bethi.  Even if she weren’t sleeping, she was defenseless against my kind. I also wanted to be close in the event her dreams turned sour, like she thought they would.

I leaned back and closed my eyes.  However, hunger made a compelling argument over my need for sleep.  I absently rubbed my stomach and gazed down the road.  A sign that promised food beckoned me, but I shook my head.  It was no use pretending food would win.  Whether it was the pull or her fragility, Bethi owned me.  I couldn’t walk away from her.  If that meant suffering without food and sleep, so be it.

A soft cry reached me.  I was up and moving to the door without thinking about it.  Without pausing, I let myself in.  She lay on the bed, on top the covers, twitching just like she had while on the bike.  Although I couldn’t see her face, I could smell her fear.  Her dreams once again weren’t pleasant.

“Bethi,” I said, hesitantly touching her leg.  I hated to wake her but wasn’t sure what else to do.  Not true.  I knew what I could try.  She’d slept peacefully in my arms twice now.  My hand trembled.  I just wasn’t sure I was ready for another go.

She cried out again, deciding me.  Kicking off my shoes, I moved around the bed and carefully eased her over so she was positioned head to foot instead of side to side.  Once she was comfortably situated, I settled on the covers, laying on my side.

In her sleep, her face looked no less relaxed or rested.  Her eyes moved frantically behind her closed lids, and her turned down mouth seemed more sad than angry.

She rolled onto her back and continued to whimper in her sleep.  I knew what she needed, but hesitated to pull her closer.  Each time we touched, each moment together made keeping my distance harder.  Eventually, I wouldn’t be able to let go.

A tear leaked from the corner of her eye, and I knew I was delaying the inevitable.  She needed me.  And I’d give her whatever she needed when she needed it.  Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pulled her close and kissed her forehead.

“No more bad dreams, luv.  Only the good ones in my arms.”

She rolled again so her back was pressed against my chest.  A shiver ran through me at the contact.  We fit perfectly.  Curling around her protectively, I relaxed and let myself enjoy the moment.  My Mate was in my arms.  It wasn’t more than holding and wouldn’t be more than holding for a very long time, but it was perfect.

We stayed like that for a while.  When her breathing no longer hitched with unshed tears, I tiredly got up and hid her shoes.  I wanted sleep, and she liked trying to run away from me.  I didn’t want to make that an easy option if she woke before me.

Taking her in my arms once more, I closed my eyes.

*    *    *    *

A change in her breathing brought me instantly awake.  It wasn’t like I’d been heavily sleeping anyway.  After the first six hours, I’d woken to use the loo.  By the time I’d returned to bed, she’d already started to become restless.  So I had lain awake for the next two hours just holding her and breathing in her scent before dozing again.

I glanced at the bedside clock.  Almost ten hours had passed.  My stomach had long since stopped growling complaints.  Now, it chewed on my backbone.

Easing my arms from around her, I created some space between us, which I filled in with a line of pillows.  After making our sleeping arrangement appear suitably respectable, I settled onto my back and watched her.

It didn’t take her long to wake the rest of the way.  She yawned and stretched loudly.  When her hand accidently landed on my face, she froze.  Complete shock registered on her features, and I grinned.  Shock was a cute look on her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded as she sat up.

“You were having a bad dream.  I came in to wake you, but you quieted.  So I decided to use my time wisely and sleep, too.”

She narrowed her gaze, not believing my tale.  I quickly gestured to the line of pillows separating us.

“I kept it proper.  See?”

She took a large breath, obviously winding up for a long scolding.

“I don’t care if you put a—”

“I’m starving.  Let’s eat.”

I rose from the bed, grabbed my jacket with her hidden shoes, and moved toward the door.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.  I won’t let my guard down.  A few moments of kindness will not make me fall into your arms.”

She was right.  Kindness hadn’t made her fall into my arms.  Sleep had.  And, it would very likely do so again because she still had dark circles under her eyes.  She needed more sleep…and food.  But was unlikely to cooperate with either in her current mood.

I stopped at the door and turned to look at her to tell her what she wanted to hear.

“I don’t want you in my arms.”

“Liar.”  She swung her legs off the bed and stood.  Marching to her bag, she yanked it off the chair.

“I don’t understand why you’re so angry.”  If she said she was hungry, though, I would completely understand.

She whirled on me, fury in her gaze.

“What’s to understand?  I’m not safe.  I’ll never be safe again.  I’m so tired, I have no idea how to help myself, and I don’t know if I can trust you.”

Any trace of humor a decent night’s sleep had left me vanished.  Whatever she had seen or learned of us had frightened her, and that angered me.  I so badly wanted to help chase away her fears and see her smile.

I took a step toward her, lifting my hand to pull her to me, but she flinched.  It hurt, but mostly the hurt was for her.  Letting my hand fall back to my side, I sighed.

“We can stay here longer so you can rest,” I said.

She dropped the bag and threw her hands up in the air in frustration.

“It won’t do any good.  I’m reliving all our past lives, mine and my sisters.  I’ve been cut, beaten, starved, raped, drowned, and even blinded,” she said, stressing each horrific description of torture with an angry clip.

I didn’t quite understand what she meant—she obviously wasn’t blind—but the idea that someone wanted to do any of those things to her had my limbs shaking with the need to shift and protect her.

“Every time I close my eyes,” she said continuing, “I see more, and there’s no rest when that’s what I see.  When I wake, I’m just as tired as I was when I went to sleep.  And I don’t just see the past, I feel it.  Every injury.  Every forced intimate moment.  If I let myself dwell on it, I won’t ever feel whole again.”  She made a pained sound.  “I’m not really sure I do now.  If I’ve ever had a happy past life, I don’t remember it.  Instead, I remember the pain, and death.  Always death...”

Her voice hitched and tears started falling freely.  She continued to hold my gaze.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered, breaking me with her unspoken plea for help.  “But if you’re here to try to get me to choose you, you can’t have me.  Even if it means I have to die again.”

I growled, feeling angry yet completely helpless to do anything about my anger.  She thought she was dreaming past lives where werewolves did unspeakable things to her.  I didn’t want to call her a liar—I knew better than to try to tell a woman her beliefs were wrong—yet I had a hard time believing someone could possibly live more than one life.

If it were true…if all those horrible things had been done to her, she was holding me responsible for the actions of the werewolf ghosts haunting her.  It was easier to blame the living than the dead.  Where did that leave us?  She was still exhausted and didn’t trust me to hold her interests above my own as a good Mate should.

Needing to escape her accusing stare, I turned and yanked open the door.  Wood splintered and the metal warped under my hand.  With too much force, I slammed the door closed behind me and strode to the bike.

Her dreams were tormenting her, and she was blaming me.  It was an impossible scenario in which I couldn’t prove myself.  How could I possibly protect her from the past?  The past was done; there was no protection from it.  A frustrated growl escaped me.  I just wanted her to feel safe with me.

Putting on my jacket, I zipped her shoes inside then mounted the bike.

If she needed to sleep, I’d hold her for as long as she needed so she slept well.  That would take care of the dreams.  Right now, though, she needed to eat.  So did I.  I started the engine and glanced at her door.

I’d been caring for her since the moment I found her.  Hopefully, she’d soon see that.