Instinct (2 page)

Read Instinct Online

Authors: J.A. Belfield

Tags: #romance, #paranormal, #historical, #werewolves, #starcrossed, #holloway pack

I had never
entered before—had no reason to. All of our monetary requirements
were taken care of by James. With a deep breath, I leaned against
the heavy oak, swung the door open, and stepped into the poorly lit
space.

Jem’s head
turned at my entrance, and something glinted in her eyes before she
averted her gaze from me.

“Miss
Stonehouse,” I said, taking a place I didn’t need beside her in the
queue.

The scribble of
a nib came from beyond the counter, but I only had interest in any
sounds Jem might have to make.

After a long
breath in, she said, “Following me is becoming a habit of yours.”
She kept her voice low, as though afraid of being overheard by the
two other patrons.

Chuckling, I
ducked my head to get closer. An inhalation filtered in treated
wood and polish, mustiness and soap, yet concentrating on Jem’s
body alone, I detected nothing artificial. Her body enticed me
without assistance. “Maybe you should not look so appetising,” I
whispered, sending my breaths across her cheek.

Her shoulders
stiffened. “I shall not be a conquest of yours, Mr Holloway.”

“Why do you
insist on such formality when you speak to me?”

“Your name is
Mr Holloway, is it not?”

“My name is
Sean. I would very much like it if you called me as such. Jem,
yes?”

Her head
twitched a little. “Not to you.” With a rustled lift of her skirts,
she stepped forward to the teller.

I moved away to
the side, as the grey-haired clerk provided currency, his eyes
tracking the coins from over his low-hooked spectacles. Opposite
him, Jem stood at ease, little anxiety apparent in the set of her
shoulders, as though faced with a task she oft dealt with. Females
were not usually found in establishments such as banks, and I could
not help wonder why no male existed to take on the family’s
responsibilities.

After scooping
her coinage into her purse, she turned toward me, her eyes widening
when she met my gaze once again. “Have you no business of your own
to attend to, Mr Holloway?”

“Yes.” I smiled
as I failed to include that said business stood before me.

“Then, I
suggest you run along to it. If you wish to keep good company, you
have to play by their rules.”

I frowned as
she walked on, and chased behind when she opened the door, stepping
out into the bright morning with her. “Company?” She could move
fast, I granted her that. Catching up to her before she could round
the next corner, I grasped for her arm. “Jem, wait.”

She turned back
to me. “Yes, Mr Holloway. Company. I am quite sure Elizabeth Wells
will be missing you. Now, if you would not mind, I shall thank you
to release my arm.” Her eyes held more emotion than I had seen in a
long time, before she tugged free and walked away.

I would have
sworn jealousy had just shown its face.

***

“Who was it
this week, Sean?” James asked on my return home.

I studied my
brother, my Alpha, crowned as such for his mature years at the
death of our father. Dark eyes stared back from beneath darker
hair, his six foot four frame indefinable whilst he sat. His
likeness to me, or mine to him, never failed to be a marvel to
me.

“There were
none who took my fancy,” I told him.

His laughter
arrived loud. “There is always one.”

“Yes, come on,
Sean,” said our fair-haired housemate, Charles. “Who was she?”

Something told
me to remain quiet about my infatuation with the Stonehouse girl.
“I chatted with Lord Wells’ daughter for a short while.”

“I knew one
had left their scent upon you.” Philip, who lived in our other
property on the south side of the forest, joined us often, and oft
joined in any banter, also.

“However, she
bored me,” I added. “So I left without her.”

My fellow pack
members stared at me.

I looked back,
equally as steady—from my brother, to Charles, to the green eyes of
Philip. Having just told them of my second ever trip into the
village that did not end in the sating of my lust, I could
understand their disbelief.

When their
attentions did not waver, sending a prickle of unease across my
shoulders, my gaze broke first, and I turned away, leaving the
kitchen before they could question me further.

I had, I
realised with a jolt, just kept my first secret from those inside
the pack.

2

Her absence from my life for another week should not
have been that hard to accept, yet even the scent left behind on my
clothing brought no relief to my longing for her. When I hovered at
the periphery of the forest, near the path to the marketplace, the
decision to be there did not astonish me.

My
disappointment grew, though, each time a new human passed by and it
turned out not to be her. I thought myself foolish, when my heart
sank upon spying Jem’s sister from my concealed position and
finding she walked alone.

My presence
remaining unacknowledged, I waited for minutes afterwards, in the
hope that Jem would be on her way to meet her. When she still did
not, I turned to leave, but after only a few strides, I sensed
movement that made me turn back. Eyes narrowing, I caught sight of
Jem, just as she crossed a break in the overgrown bushes.

With the first
trickle of excitement flushing through my veins, I raced back the
way I’d come and burst through the trees, onto the path before
her.

She gasped,
those blue eyes of hers widening, and half stumbled back a
step.

“Jem, please
wait.” I raised my palms in apology.

Pressing her
hands to her chest, she took deep breaths. “Do you always accost
unsuspecting victims?”

I gave a quiet
chuckle. “Accost? I merely wanted to attract your attention.”

“Well, you
most certainly did that.” Her gaze remained on me before turning
toward where I’d emerged, and she took a few steps toward the first
line of timber, from where she peered within. “You were in the
forest.”

I moved nearer
until my elbow brushed hers, somehow reassured by the contact.
“Yes.”

Her expression
held curiosity, as she leaned forward. “’Tis not safe, Mr Holloway.
Wolves inhabit the forest.”

“Wolves?”
Swallowing hard, I checked myself before I could reveal anything
more, breathing a small laugh as though to discredit her words.
“How could you know such a thing?”

She lifted her
face to me. “I have heard their calls. Their songs hold a haunting
quality, which I find quite beautiful, if I am fortunate enough to
hear them.”

Head tilted, I
took in her sincerity. “Have you ever entered, Jem?” She could not
have. Surely, the forest would have been reluctant to release a
scent such as hers once held captive within its confines.

“Mother
forbids it.” Her attention returned to the density of green hues
and browns before her. “She says the wolves are not to be
trusted.”

I held in my
concern at her words. “What does your mother know of the
wolves?”

She did not
answer immediately, but her brows tightened, as though in
contemplation. After a few seconds, she shrugged. “I would not
know.” She backed away onto the path. “Mother barely tells me
anything, other than what to do.”

The hem of her
dress brushed the dust beneath her feet, as she turned and walked
away, leaving me behind with little other to do than watch.

Her blue skirt
bore no bustle, and her swinging hips mesmerised me with each of
her steps, drawing my gaze to her slim waist encased within a
bodice the colour of a young fawn. Lifting my sights higher, I
followed the sway of the escaped blonde tendrils, which refused to
remain fastened each time I saw her.

“Jem?” I
called, before she could go any farther.

Halting, she
lifted her skirt and turned back, her eyes bright beneath the
glaring sun. “Yes?”

The sight of
her, in that moment, tripled my heart rate, halted my words, and
quickened my breaths in a hunger I had never before experienced,
and all rationality evaporated. “I could take you into the
forest—if you wish to enter, that is. You would be safe with
me.”

She stared for
a long pause before her musical laughter tinkled out. “You are
quite humorous in your attempts.”

I frowned.

“Safe?” she
asked, walking back toward me. “With you? I very much doubt I would
be safe with you anywhere. You reek of danger.”

My lips
curved. “I hold far less danger than you.” My smile widened at her
barked out laugh. “A young female such as yourself could easily
convince a male to behave in the most unusual manner .... In fact,
I would very much like to steal a kiss from you.”

“You do not
even know me, Mr Holloway.”

I took a step
to bridge the distance still between us. “When will you cease with
the formal address and call me by the name I have requested of
you?”

Her eyebrow
lifted a little, as her lips twitched. “When you cease to be a
stranger.” She spun and marched away.

With one
stride and a reach of my hand, I snared her arm, bringing her to
me. A small squeak escaped her, as my hand cupped the back of her
head and drew her mouth to mine.

She raised her
hands, pressed against my chest, but I tasted her lips in a chaste
kiss before she could push me away.

Brushing over
her cheek to her ear, I murmured, “I hear the trip of your heart,
the hastening of your breaths. Tell me you do not desire me.”

Her voice no
longer held steadiness with her answered, “I do not.”

Coming back
for another sample of her mouth, I smiled to myself when her
fingers twisted within the loose folds of my shirt, and my groin
stirred, when her tongue darted out to greet mine.

I broke off
and met her eyes, shining and bright and staring back at me. “Tell
me you do not think of me when you lie alone in the night,” I
whispered against her lips.

“I do not, Mr
Holloway, and I shall thank—”

Her breath
caught, as I swept around to her ear. “You are lying ...
poorly.”

At the quiet
approach of steps, I lifted my gaze to see Jem’s sister coming our
way along the path from the village. The way she stared, the sharp
lines of her face, told me she had spotted us.

Giving a low
growl of regret, I straightened. “I think someone is looking for
you.”

Colour high in
her cheeks, Jem patted at herself before turning. “Jessica.”

“My offer
still stands,” I said. “We could be within the forest before she
reaches us.”

“Jem?” her
sister called out, increasing her pace toward where we stood.

As Jem turned back to me, I caught her chin to hold her
steady and lowered my gaze to hers. “I
dare
you.”

I walked
backward from her, hoping my eagerness to get her alone did not
reveal itself through the fabric of my trousers.

She seemed
unsure as she turned from me to her sister, even more so when
Jessica raised her hems, her feet moving faster.

“Jem?”

Breaking
through the edge of the forest alone, I was certain I had lost—that
she would not come—but, surprising me, Jem grasped bunches of her
skirt and darted toward me, just as her sister reached her vacated
space.

Reaching out,
I took her hand and led her beyond the first trees, but we made it
no more than a few steps before Jessica grasped Jem’s arm and
stalled our flight.

Her eyes
pleaded, when Jem turned back to her. “Mother said we mustn’t go
into the forest. And certainly not with the likes of Mr
Holloway.”

“Tell Mother
you left me at the marketplace, and I was there with you this
morn,” Jem said in a hurried response.

Jessica took a
step back, her eyes wide. “I will do no such—”

“Please,
Jessica. I have asked nothing of you before, but I ask this of you
now. Please do not speak of this to Mother.”

The dark
haired girl studied her sister for moments, before her eyes shifted
to me and back to Jem. Releasing an unsteady sigh, she nodded. “Go
on. Before I come to my senses.”

“Thank you,”
she said with a nod.

Hand still in
mine, Jem allowed me to lead her into the shade.

***

Beside the
forest stream, a fallen trunk from winter last provided a
sufficient resting place for Jem. If James detected the hint of a
human alongside a trail of my own, he would be furious, so it
seemed the best area to take her, as the hunts rarely stretched
that far to the northeast.

Her skirt
splayed around her to drape over the log and moist ground, as her
outstretched hands offered balance to her bowed back. The sun
seeping through the branches lent a glow to her cheeks and raised
chest.

Head resting
against my linked fingers, I lay upon a blanket of twigs and
scattered fern beside the riverbank and watched her face tilt
toward the sky.

“It is quite
beautiful here,” she said. “I have never been surrounded by such
silence.”

“The forest is
never silent, Jem.”

I heard plenty:
the breeze and the susurrant whispers of its passing, the gurgles
of the river as it travelled its merry journey, the chirp of
fledglings in the highest of branches, scurrying, wings, pecking,
the faint and distant gobbling of a fox.

“I hear nothing
but the wind.”

“Because that
is all you expect to hear.” I rolled up and knelt before her.
“Close your eyes.”

Her chin
lowered, and she narrowed her stare, but I brushed my fingers over
her lids until they dropped and held my hand over them.

Leaning close
to her ear, I whispered, “Trust me.”

“Is that
another of your attempts at humour?”

“Do you find me
amusing?”

“Not at
all.”

I chuckled
before hushing her to be quiet. “Listen carefully. What do you
truly hear?”

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