Chapter Seventeen
Sonya
Anger management went well over the next two days. Too well, really. The better I got to know Ty, the harder it was for him to make me mad. And the harder it became for both of us to resist our attraction. We sat up late each night watching horror movies, most of which involved vampires. It struck me as hilarious, a werewolf who was a fan of vampire movies. He enjoyed how the irony made me laugh, and as much as I hated to admit it even to myself, I liked that he enjoyed making me laugh. During the day when we weren’t training we walked around his expansive acreage and he told me stories about the history of the area. I loved listening to him talk. If I’d had professors like him in college, I might have gone to class a lot more, and I definitely wouldn’t have taken a semester off. Of course, I might have gotten far more distracted as well.
While I thought it was the growing friendship with Ty that made it hard to get mad at him, he claimed I was simply getting that good. My fighting skills, not so much. We added other tactics to the sparring sessions for the next two days, such as having me focus on Raul, talk about him, how I felt about what he’d done to me. It worked at first, enraging me almost to the point where I lost control of my wolfy side. After the first day, though, understanding the reasons for my anger allowed me to control it, even where Raul was concerned. My resolve to attend his trial remained as strong as ever. While Ty didn’t think Raul had anything to do with changing Candice, I wasn’t so sure. I needed to see him not only pay for what he did to me, but make sure he never did it to anyone else again. Despite the fact that I was starting to enjoy the heightened senses, the increased strength and stamina, even the burn of power beneath my skin, the fact remained that Raul had taken my choice from me. For that he had to pay.
Trapped beneath Ty’s body after he executed a particularly impressive leg sweep on me, I realized the problem. How could I not? Its clear blue eyes bore a hole straight through me. The press of all that muscle against my thin tank top and mostly bare legs made me dizzy. Pink lips with the slightly raised ridge lining them drew me in, making me want to lick, bite, and suck on them. All right, it wasn’t really his lips I was thinking about at this point. By the feel of the hard line pushing against my groin, it became clear I wasn’t the only one feeling the effects.
“I think I know what the problem is,” I said between labored breaths.
It came out sounding as horny as I felt, but at the moment, I didn’t care.
Ty smiled and ran his hand along my jawline. “Too many clothes?” he suggested in a voice deepened by desire.
My traitorous eyes fluttered closed but I forced them back open as I fought the instinct to lean into his hand. Just when I thought he might be serious, the pressure of his body against mine disappeared. One moment he lay on top of me, the next he stood over me, offering me his hand. I accepted it, not because I needed it, but because I wanted to touch him. Which led me right back to the problem.
“Precisely,” I said as I stood and brushed pine needles from my jogging shorts with my free hand.
His guilt-filled eyes widened. “I am sorry. I should not have said that.”
“No, Ty. I’m sick of fighting what might be between us, and sick of wondering if it’s just the verða heightening my desire,” I said, keeping my tone as matter-of-fact as I could. The last part wouldn’t come out, the part about how I was terrified of going mad and sick to death of the fear.
Those delicious lips quirked up. “That is not how it works.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “It might be. The verða is heightening my desire, so I need to master it.”
Shaking his head, Ty walked over and grabbed a towel that hung from a tree branch. Beads of sweat trickled down between his pectoral muscles, making me want to follow them with my tongue. His arms and chest flexed as he wiped sweat from his forehead and the back of his neck. The reaction it stirred deep in my center only confirmed my suspicions of this being a hormonal imbalance.
“Once you have mastered your strongest emotion, you hold the key to mastering them all. And anger was definitely your strongest emotion,” he said.
From a nearby stone table, he picked up two water bottles and handed me one. “You think the verða is the reason for your desire, yes?”
I accepted the water bottle and took a long drink. When I lowered it he stepped deep into my personal space. Knowing a lesson was coming, I resisted the urge to step back and instead craned my neck back to look up at him. Moments like this reminded me of how tall he was. This close his body heat radiated from him, reaching out to me as if it could draw me in. He caught a drop of water that lingered on my bottom lip and spread it across my mouth, teasing the edge of my teeth as he almost pushed his finger inside. Just like that I grew wet. Nostrils flaring as he took in my scent, his eyes fluttered closed.
“No, maybe, I don’t know,” I breathed. “Well, the reason it’s so strong, maybe.”
His finger moved from my lips to my arm, tracing a line down it that burned deep into me in the most wonderful way.
“Then knowing the reason, you should be able to control it, to banish it like you can the anger.”
As he spoke his finger traced its way back up the inside of my arm to my waist, running upward until it outlined the edge of my breast. My nipples hardened in an instant, aching for much more than a grazing touch.
He leaned down and whispered in my ear. “So banish it.”
The touch of his breath against the sensitive skin of my ear set me on fire, making me wetter without so much as a touch. A slight groan slid from him as he took in a deep breath through his nose. God the sound was sexy, especially knowing that the scent of my arousal was what caused it. Damn him. I wanted to tear his clothes off, throw him down, and ride him right there on the lawn. No, no I didn’t, it was the verða making me horny as a teenager. Focusing on that reason, I attempted to fight the desire. When it didn’t work, I took a step back.
“It’s not working,” I gasped.
Oddly, my skin had not begun to burn, or even hum, and my fangs hadn’t extended.
Ty took a step toward me. “Maybe because the verða is not causing it,” he said in a deep, terribly sexy voice that held a hint of hope in it.
I took another step back. Putting on my best haughty look, I placed a hand on my hip. “What? You think I’m just falling for you?”
I had only known the man thirteen days, less time than I had known Raul before I’d made the near-fatal mistake of letting him get too close. I would not allow myself to make that mistake again. The verða messed with me in so many ways. If my feelings for Ty was one of them, I needed to know before I let myself tumble down that rabbit hole.
A grin easily as sexy as his lusty voice tempted me to step into him. He began to trace his hand up my arm again. “I did not say that. Maybe you only want to ravage me.”
Shaking my head, I pulled my arm away from his touch. But I didn’t step back, I couldn’t bring myself to. This had been a lot easier when he’d been fighting his desire as much as I had. “Despite what you might think of me because of my monumental mistake with Raul, I don’t do casual sex. It’s part of why I didn’t have sex with him,” I said.
Without touching me, he leaned in, his shadow falling across me. “I did not say it would be casual between us.”
Bumps rose along my skin, spreading down from the ear he breathed on to the hard nipple of my right breast, and on down to my core. If his breath could do such a thing, I wondered what his hands could do. Oh did I wonder. My eyes closed at the thought alone. Grass and earth sighed beneath his feet as he took another step closer. I held my hand out to stop him, gasping when it ran into his hard, bare chest.
“Stop. I have to be sure it isn’t the verða.”
He complied, but didn’t step back. Beneath my hand, his chest rose and fell with the rhythm of quick breaths that made mine quicker.
“It is not the verða, Sonya. And I am not Raul,” he said, not quite sounding convinced on that first part.
“I have to be sure.”
Possibly the sexiest laugh I had ever heard rumbled from him. “Open your eyes or move your hand lower; you will be sure. I shared a high school locker room with Raul, I know he does not exactly measure up to me. The bastard was pressed up against you hard enough the night I ran him off that I know you will feel the difference.” His voice deepened on the last part, almost became a growl. The little touch of jealousy sent a thrill through me.
How well I knew that was true, thanks to his display at the lake. His words might have pissed me off if my mind could stop picturing him naked and wet. Before my body could betray my resolve, I yanked my hand off him and took a step back. “I mean I have to be sure it isn’t the verða.”
He waved his hand dismissively and took a long drink of water. Tension and doubt hid in his movements and in the lines of his face. As he moved, I watched sweat drip from his blond hair, trail down his neck, and work its way to his chest. My tongue was trailing across my lower lip before I even realized I had begun to lick it. When he lowered the water bottle and met my gaze I could still feel the hunger burning in my eyes. I had not wanted him to see that.
“That is easy,” he said.
It took me a moment to remember what we’d been talking about. “How can I make sure it isn’t the verða?”
“Shift and the verða will be over.”
The way he said it so casually, as if it wasn’t my greatest fear, made me wonder if he was trying to make light of it, or if he hadn’t noticed how afraid I was.
“I’m not ready. It’s too soon.”
The playful, lusty look on his face transformed into one of his “teaching moment” looks—brows high, chin dropped so he stared at me through his sweaty bangs. “You are ready.”
I started to shake my head and couldn’t stop. Suddenly, he stood before me again, his hands gripping my arms gently. Both his touch and closeness soothed me. But they also touched the wildness that rose within me at the idea of shifting, excited it.
“I don’t want to be out of control,” I whispered, eyes on his bare feet, which were half buried in green grass.
“You won’t be. You can do this.”
One of his fingers traced along my chin, lifting it so I would look at him. Though a glimmer of the playful, sexy attitude remained in his eyes, his face was all serious.
“You’re ready, I know you are.”
The faith in his voice struck something deep inside me that had nothing to do with desire. I realized I wanted to do this not only to make sure my attraction to him wasn’t the verða, but to make him proud. Unfortunately, it was the same reason I was afraid to fail. He had worked so hard preparing me over the last two weeks. Seeing how I was his first, I wanted to succeed almost as much for him as I did for myself.
“But the madness…” My voice trailed off so the last part of the word was barely audible, even to varúlfur hearing.
He shook his head slowly, eyes holding mine. “You are displaying all the signs of a well-adjusted new varúlfur and none of the signs of one slipping into madness.”
I tried to return the smile but I’m sure it came out looking horrific. “More from your kennari how-to book?”
“Yes, but it is more than that. You understand and accept the instincts of both humans and wolves. And, you have a strong desire to help people, not harm them, as is reflected in your fighting skills.” He took a breath to go on, but I halted his words with a playful punch in one hard bicep.
“Hey!”
He grinned and took hold of my chin again. “I would not encourage you to do this if I did not think you were ready. There is a connection between us, Sonya. Through that, I can feel that you are ready.”
It felt like my cheeks literally tried to catch fire. With my chin in his hand, I couldn’t look away, so I had to make light of the situation. “Is that some kind of kennari-nemi bond thing?”
“You are my first. I do not know.” His body leaned closer and his voice dropped an octave. “But I really do not think so.”
Time to woman up because shit was getting real. “All right, so how does this work?” I asked.
Smiling, he let go of my chin. “First you have to want to change, then simply will yourself to do it, and you will.”
The near panic that gripped my heart must have shown on my face because he took hold of my hand. “It will not hurt any more than the burning you have already felt beneath your skin. Your bones do not break and reshape, your skin does not stretch. It is not like the movies. Your atoms transform from one solid body to another, simple as that.”
To wet my increasingly dry throat, I swallowed a few times. “Will you shift for me?”
“Of course.” His smile grew wider. “But I have to strip.”
I pulled my hand from his and slapped his hard chest. “Be serious.”
His brows rose in feigned innocence that looked anything but. “I am. Clothes do not magically dissolve and reform. This process is natural, not magical.”
Laughter burst from me before I could stop it. “You do realize that shifting into a wolf is an impossibility, therefore it has to be magical,” I asked.
Ty shook his head. “We are made up of atoms. Atoms are building blocks, simply put. Rearranging building blocks is complicated, but completely possible. Our brains are developed further—or in another direction, if you prefer—than other humans, based off our DNA, which is transferred through our venom when we choose to change another. This supports the theory of the verða.”
“How do you know all of this?”
Cocking his head at me, he lifted an eyebrow. “Our kind live for five hundred years, giving us plenty of time to advance and learn. We are not all teachers; some are scientists, doctors, engineers. We are more than human, more than wolf.”
Complicated as all that was, I followed it, and couldn’t argue with it. I mean, seriously, how could I? I wasn’t even finished becoming a varúlfur yet. What did I know? Besides, strange as it was, it did make a sort of scientific sense. That, or I was already mad to think so. No. I stamped that fear back down where it belonged. Ty said I was ready, and I trusted him.
My thoughts blew away as Ty pulled his T-shirt off and dropped it on the ground. Perfect pecs any Calvin Klein model would be envious of filled my vision at eye-level. Resist though I tried, my eyes moved down the path of his hard abdominals, past his belly button, and snagged on where his hands worked at untying the drawstring on his sweatpants. All of a sudden this didn’t seem like a good way to quell my desire. In fact, it seemed like a horrible idea as it was having the exact opposite effect. Still, I couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop it, wouldn’t. I prayed to any that would listen to make what we felt be something more than the verða.
Clearly for my torment, he pushed his sweatpants slowly down his hips. At last, he sprang free of the cotton confines to stand up fully erect. The moisture in my mouth vanished. I shook my head and forced my eyes up to his chest. Just because he was impressively hung didn’t mean he knew how to use it. Or worse, that he cared to use it for more than his own pleasure. Of the two men I had been with in my life, neither of them had much interest in anything beyond their own orgasms. I had read enough romance novels and watched enough porn to hope that men existed who cared about pleasuring a woman, but never having met one, they seemed like a myth. Then again, so had werewolves a few weeks ago.
My eyes tried to slip back down but I forced them up to his face. If this was a ploy to make me not think about the risk of going mad, it was working, too well. The smirk turning up the corners of his mouth gave him an impish look that made me shake my head. Most guys would respond to such impressed perusal of their bodies with an egotistical overconfidence, but not Ty. No, he found it amusing.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“I am about to shift into a wolf, something you did not even know was possible a few weeks ago, and you cannot take your eyes off my goods.”
Some of the tension eased out of me. “Your goods?” I laughed, not derisive or making fun of him, but because the phrase was far too cute for such a hulk of a man to utter.
He stalked up to me, passing close enough that our shoulders brushed. As our skin touched he leaned down and whispered in my ear. “Would you prefer I use the word cock?”
A thrill of naughty pleasure shot straight down to my tightening core.
He let out a small, deep laugh. “I was merely trying to maintain our attempt at being a gentleman and a lady.”
The temptation to lean into him overwhelmed me, but he moved past me before I could.
“I think that went out the window the moment you stripped naked in front of me, again,” I said, brows rising on the last word.
I turned to keep him in sight as he crossed the open space of the yard, stopping beside a tree. Eyes on his face, I secretly reveled in all I could see out of the edges of my vision. Telling myself the verða made me feel this way didn’t reduce the power of my desire one bit. It should have, but it didn’t.
“The first rule of shifting is to make sure humans cannot see you. That means knowing your surroundings,” he said, chin lifting to indicate the tree line.
His words worked like a splash of cold water in my face, dousing my desire in an instant. Some small part of me resisted the possibility of shifting, even though my fangs and claws had already proven it to a point. Instead of thinking about that, I tried to focus on the lesson of the moment.
“You moved over there so the trees hid you from the house across the lake,” I said.
“Exactly.”
“But it’s too far away for them to see anything.”
He shook his head. “Not in this day and age. Do not ever underestimate the nosiness of others. Always assume everyone is trying to watch you, and always keep satellites in mind. It is the only way to stay safe and keep the secret of our kind.”
Fear danced across my skin as though it possessed the razor-sharp claws of a newborn kitten. As if worrying about shifting and going insane weren’t enough…
“How do I do it?” I asked.
“Decide to shift, and you will. Your skin will grow hot, vibrate for a moment, then you will flow from a human into a wolf, like water moving from one glass to another.”
The right side of my lips lifted. “You make it sound so poetic.”
“It is, really.”
“Will I still be able to think? Will I still be…me, inside the wolf?” I couldn’t bring myself to ask if I’d go mad. He’d only say no to make me feel better, anyways. The truth was, neither of us would know for sure until I shifted.
The lecture on shifting put his desire on the back shelf, as was evident by his lowering erection. It bounced as if my gaze on him alone stirred him. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to focus. The delicious distraction of his chiseled body was working well to ebb my fear of shifting. A plan of his, no doubt. The fear of going insane, well, nothing was going to reduce that.
“Of course, just with fewer inhibitions. It is a bit like being drunk in a way, that carefree feeling, but with your senses and reaction times improving instead of decreasing.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad,” I said. My eyes drifted downward. “All right, I’m ready.” It was a loaded statement considering my underwear was wet with my desire for him, but to his credit, he didn’t take the opening.
Some force I felt on a gut level pulled my eyes up and his gaze snagged mine.
“There is nothing to be afraid of,” he said.
Then he shifted.