HuntressUnleashed (4 page)

Surprisingly, he was handsome. His face was more filled out
than Eagan’s, eyes darker, but his features were rugged and his lips curved in
a pleasant-enough smile. Still, there was that
wrongness
tugging at her.

“Beautiful Huntress.” Delaney had noticed her examination.
“Do you like what you see?”

Cait inhaled, taking in the werewolf’s scent. He smelled
like heather with a hint of mustiness, as if he’d slept atop a pile of old
books. It made her nose wrinkle. She forced herself to stand her ground. What
was the potion supposed to do? Iris had told her to use
all
her senses.

Just as she was trying to figure out how to do that, Delaney
sprang forward. Before she could defend herself, he was kissing her, stoking
that inconvenient inferno Eagan had lit with his arrival. One hand slipped down
her pants, cupping her buttocks and pulling her toward him.

Her first instinct had been to close her eyes. Now she
opened them, getting a good view of Delaney’s eyes as she pulled back.

They were dull red.

She closed her eyes again. Reopened them a second later.
Still red. The skin around his mouth was pockmarked. She inhaled his scent,
tasting
the abnormality of him, and stumbled backward.

Delaney cocked his head, pausing to stand very still. The
pockmarks and other blemishes suddenly became difficult to make out, but if
Cait looked at him from the corners of her eyes she could see his true form.

What she saw made her want to scream. He was a hideous old
man underneath the aura he projected. Wiry muscles protruded from sagging skin.
He was still dangerous, posing a significant threat to her safety. Runes inked
in black magic encircled his arms, legs and torso, pulsing dully whenever he
moved.

As the silence stretched, he licked his mouth with a gray
tongue, smacking wetly. Cait shivered, seeing the duality of the action. If she
moved her head, changed angles even slightly, he turned back into a handsome
man, lips curved in an inviting smile. It was disconcerting, even nauseating.
Behind her, Frost and Bannock watched unmoving. She sensed their readiness to
attack.

“Why did you pull away, beautiful one?”

“I have to go,” Cait said evenly.
Have to go scrub your
touch from my skin
, she added mentally.

“Oh, I think not.” His voice acquired a harsh edge. “You
think to run back to your protector, yes?”

“No,” Cait said. “Not to him.”

Never to him. Not if Eagan was the same as Delaney. She
hadn’t been in possession of the potion when he’d arrived. Now that she could
see through the werewolf illusion, she wasn’t letting
anyone
into the
cottage. She’d have to hope the fourth witchward held.

“Good lass. Wouldn’t want you running back to that nasty old
Eagan, would we?” His voice was silky again, patronizing.

“I will not be running to him,” Caitrin said, “but I’m sure
as hell not staying with
you
.”

She turned, sprinting into the heather. He followed
immediately.

Delaney
. The wind carried the Loner’s scent to him.
It scorched his nostrils, burned him with the brand of failure.

Failure to keep Caitrin safe.

He snarled, wolf form amplifying the sound. Charged forward
on shadow-black paws that shredded the dirt with their claws.

Delaney was close. Closer. Moving. His scent moving with
him, floating in the chilled air. He plotted the Loner’s movement with the
skill born of centuries of survival, of hunting unnatural freaks like this
fallen werewolf. Delaney should have died a century ago.

Only the blackest of wizardry held the Loner together. Since
Delaney was long since devoid of sanity, it was a wonder that he had escaped
Alpha justice.

Eagan scrambled up a steep rise, pausing to sniff the air.
Yes—
there
she was. Her Guardians were with her as well.

Leaping onto the rutted road, Eagan put on a burst of speed.
Delaney was coming closer. So was Caitrin. Moments later they appeared over the
rise, running toward him.

Unable to take the time to shift, Delaney was chasing the
lass in human form. With Alpha eyes, Eagan saw him as he truly was—an
abomination that should be long perished. He was only too happy to help him
along.

Silent as death, Eagan slammed into Delaney’s chest. Even in
his weaker form, the other werewolf had the presence of mind to twist away from
Eagan’s teeth, slashing at his fur with a bone-handled knife.

“There you are, MacCulloch. I tasted your lass, had her
tongue on mine,” Delaney boasted, dancing away. “She’s sweet—so tender and full
of life.”

Eagan snarled, the sound rippling through his chest. In one
fluid movement, he darted in and slashed at Delaney’s abdomen. Blood spurted,
crimson against heather.

“A fine try, Eagan,” Delaney sneered. “But these runes renew
me quicker than my werewolf blood ever did.”

Indeed, Delaney’s flesh was already mending, knitting tooth
marks into unbroken, if wrinkled, skin. Eagan eyed his opponent, measuring the
marks near his throat. If he ripped them apart…

“While you admire what I have become, the lass runs toward
my wizard,” Delaney jeered. “I shall enjoy her writhing under me, begging for
more as she calls my name.”

Eagan was gone before he’d heard the rest of the sentence,
streaking down the hill in a blur of black. If it had been anyone else but
Caitrin, he might have stayed, testing the dark runes’ extent of protection. He
was certain Delaney’s immortality could be breached somehow. The werewolf was
unnatural, hideous in his survival, and Eagan knew the tattoos had something to
do with that.

Yet Caitrin’s safety was his priority. He would rip the
wizard limb to limb if the man had done so much as threaten her. Already Eagan
could feel the wizard’s spellcasting lending a malevolent charge to the air.
He’d cast a temporary ward which Eagan could see gleaming across the road
ahead. Designed to entrap, the ward would hold unwary crossers immobile until
either the wizard or Delaney released them.

Caitrin was running straight toward it.

Eagan roared a warning but she only fled faster. Still too
far away to stop the lass, he put on a desperate burst of speed—and half
strangled on his next roar.

She had seen the wards! The lass was going
around
them, calling sharply to her collies to stay at her side. She dodged the next one
too, scrambling across a hillock, falling to her hands and knees as she
continued her desperate flight.

By Brighid, how was she seeing the wards? It had taken
decades for Eagan to learn how to open his third eye. Even then, a werewolf’s
Sight did not hold the clarity of a witch or wizard’s. He shook his head,
grimly continuing to close the gap between himself and his lass.

Eagan caught her just inside her property, blocking her way
to the cottage. She skidded to a halt in front of him, eyes wild.

What had Delaney done to her?

His scent was all over her body—on her lips, down her damned
trousers
. Eagan snarled helplessly. Immediately, he wished he had not
done so. Caitrin flinched back, staring at him in terror. The Guardians
growled, swishing their black-and-white tails.

Heedless of the risk, Eagan threw his head back, shifting
into human form. Although he had several centuries of experience, he was still
vulnerable during the Change. He forced the process as fast as he dared,
gritting his teeth through the pain. Even so, she was halfway to the door
before he recovered.

Naked, he pursued her. She faced him in her sitting room,
clutching the sword and panting.

“Caitrin.” He shut the door behind him, approaching slowly.

She shook her head even as he spoke, obviously too rattled
to reply. For a long while he stood still, respecting her need for space. Tried
not to scent Delaney all over her skin. She was bleeding from cuts on her hands
and knees. He clenched his hands in an effort not to approach her to tend to
them.

Keeping the sword between them, she paced a few steps to the
side, staring intently at his face. Then back, her eyes flickering up and down
his body. He frowned. Had she been caught by a wizard spell after all?

“What are ye doing, lass?”

For a moment he thought she wouldn’t reply. Then she bit her
lip and the sharp smell of fear became tempered with her bewilderment. “You…you
aren’t old and disgusting underneath.”

“Nay, Caitrin. I am Alpha, as I told ye.”

“I drank a potion. A kind of Sight potion. Iris said it
would help me see the truth. I—I saw
him
after he kissed me—”

“Caitrin, lass.” He interrupted her half-hysterical
babbling. Gently averting the sword, he went to her, took her in his arms.

She stood stiffly at first, quivering with residual terror.
To calm her, he chanted poetry in her ear, speaking in the Gaelic he’d learned
long ago. Gradually his warmth began to restore her and she rested her head
against his chest, breathing more regularly. By the end of the third poem, she
seemed to be soothed.

“Eagan, why haven’t they tried to follow us?”

“The fourth witchward,” he said succinctly.

She gasped. “You mean to say it will hold against them?
Wait. Would it have held against you?”

“Aye.” He kept his face deadpan.

“You’re a canny one, MacCulloch.” She nipped his arm only
half playfully.

He chuckled. “Ye could have hid from me, Caitrin, but ye
would have missed out on
this
.”

Setting the sword aside, he sat down on the couch, pulling
her onto his lap. He intended to kiss her just once. But her lips were so
sweet, so yielding that he could hardly come up for air. She was intoxicating
and he was rock hard again, wanting nothing more than to thrust inside her. Her
warmth pressed so tantalizingly against his cock that he had to use every ounce
of self-control not to take things further.

“Lass, ye need to make a decision soon.” His voice was
harsh, grating.

“About us, you mean.” Blue eyes, half closed from his kiss,
fixed upon him.

Eagan nodded sharply. “It seems strange to have to explain.
My kind often instinctively know when they are ready to mate and settle down.”

“What if things work differently with me? What if I find I
am unhappy?”

“Never heard of that happening. Even half-bloods mate for
life.”

Caitrin looked away, mirroring his unease. She was less than
half-blood, possessed Hunter attributes. He’d been looking for a pure werewolf
female all this time, staking out different Packs only to find nobody truly
meant for him. No one else had called to his body—and mind—with such relentless
fierceness. No one but Caitrin.

When she shifted position atop him, he realized her arm was
bleeding. There were grazes on her knees and hands as well, yet more hurt that
Delaney had wrought. Immediately he deposited her on the couch.

“Where is your bathtub?” he demanded.

She gestured to a large copper pot hung on a nail in the
kitchen. “You will have to draw water from the well.”

“I’m no’ afraid of going out there. Stay here,” he ordered
as an afterthought.

Caitrin wanted to scream after him to come back. He strode
outdoors, wielding buckets in each hand like weapons, as if daring his enemies
to attack. White-lipped and nervous, Cait took up the sword.

Craning her neck, she peered out the window. If either the
wizard or Delaney returned she would rush to his aid, no matter how that idea
terrified her. With bated breath she watched as he drew several large
bucketsful of water, his muscles flexing as he carried them back to the
cottage.

She breathed again as he came past the witchward, unable to
quite admit—even to herself—that she’d felt bereft without the werewolf’s
presence.

“I will heat these by the fire while ye eat your soup,
lass.” He raised his eyebrows at the sword in her hands but said nothing.

Eagan ladled out two bowls of soup as she sat at the kitchen
table. Wordlessly she offered him the package Iris had given her and he sliced
the bread, cheese and apples, feeding her the odd tidbit as he worked.

She let her tongue graze the pad of his index finger as he
slipped her another morsel of cheese, watching his green eyes darken with lust.
Yet she knew from the set of his shoulders that he wasn’t going to give in, no
matter how much she teased, until her basic physical needs were fully taken
care of.

Never mind that her body was screaming for his. She wanted
him atop her,
inside
her, with an intensity that almost frightened her.

If she didn’t bond to him like he would to her, she was
dooming him to a half life. Eagan had already lived so long without love. It
wasn’t fair to play games with his emotions. He was right—she had to decide.

As for herself… It was spring now. She could make it through
the summer and autumn with a bit of help from Iris during the harvest. But
another winter here alone? Another winter spent avoiding hunting any
supernatural creatures that traversed the area? The thought made her cringe in
more ways than one.

She’d never embraced the idea of having a family of her own,
perhaps because the thought had never occurred to her. Yet watching Eagan serve
dinner and warm water for a bath stirred some long-dormant part of her mind.

After she finished eating, Eagan hauled the copper tub by
the fire and filled it with steaming water. When he began to turn away, Caitrin
shook her head.

“No,” she whispered. “You can watch.”

He looked at her for a long moment, eyes shining with
complex emotion. “Ah, lass. Ye honor me.”

She could feel the intensity of his concentration as she
unbuttoned her blouse and slipped the chemise over her head, letting the
garments fall to the floor. Her nipples tightened immediately at the exposure
to his red-hot gaze.

Before she could lose her nerve, she slid her trousers to
her ankles and stepped out of them. Naked now, she was finally on equal footing
with Eagan. Briefly she wondered what had happened to the kilt. Not that it
mattered—with a body like his, Eagan could remain naked forever.

Self-consciously, Caitrin stepped into the tub. It was just
large enough for her to sit comfortably, knees slightly bent. She submerged
into water that barely came to her breasts, exhaling in pleasure. The warmth
stung her grazes but soothed her muscles.

“Ye may need help washing,” Eagan announced huskily. Not
wasting any time, he came to kneel next to her. “Would no’ want ye to strain
any tender bits.”

She closed her eyes, tilting her head back as he poured
water over her head, gently massaging soap into her hair. At one point he
leaned close, inhaling deeply, as if trying to memorize her scent. Then he
rinsed her shoulders and back, lingering carefully over any cuts and scrapes.

Caitrin almost wasn’t prepared for the shock of his touch on
her breast. His chestnut hair brushed her shoulder as he bent to take one
nipple into his hot mouth. Just when the flick of his tongue became unbearable,
Eagan drew back, sluicing clean water across her body. Deprived of skin to skin
contact, Caitrin bit back a cry of protest.

“Come, lass. The water is beginning to cool.”

Strong hands closed around her rib cage, lifting her to her
feet. She shivered as her wet body met cool air. Eagan immediately wrapped her
in a towel, pulling her against his warm body. She burrowed into him, relieved
to be covered up again.

“Ye look so beautiful naked, Caitrin. Never try to hide your
body from me.”

“I do not make it a habit to take off my clothes around
men,” she grumbled into his shoulder.

He chuckled, his muscular chest shaking under her cheek.
“Werewolves quickly accustom themselves to being naked around their Pack…but
Brighid help whoever ogles the Alpha’s woman.”

Cait heard the unspoken question in his words. “I have made
up my mind, MacCulloch. I want to stay with you.” The thought of him leaving
was abruptly painful. She’d whiled away the winters since Da’s death, telling
herself she would get used to the solitude. In reality she had become more
isolated, only leaving the croft when absolutely necessary. Today’s visit to
Iris had been her first social call for months.

Eagan’s grip tightened almost to the point of pain. “Do ye
truly mean that, lass? It will mean accepting my bite. The first Turning may be
painful,” he warned.

“I am used to pain," she told him. “I think loneliness
stings more than physical hurt.”

“Aye, lass. That it does.”

Eagan reached for a second, smaller towel, deftly wrapping
it around her head. She made a small sound of protest at his vigorous toweling.

“I’ll no’ have ye running around in the cold with wet hair,”
he said sternly.

“Running? Must werewolves chase their mates beforehand?”