Lucas eased Sarah inside the truck. Her eyes had closed again. Fear pumped through him. “Sarah?”
Her eyes didn’t open. “Relax, Lucas . . . can’t go anywhere . . . without you.” The faintest of smiles curved her lips.
He climbed in and pulled her close. “No, babe, you can’t.” From here on out, they’d be together.
And if anyone tried to come between them, he’d slaughter the dumbass.
Because Sarah King was his. He’d bled for her, killed for her, nearly died for her . . . and he’d never give her up.
Never.
When Sarah opened her eyes, she was in a bedroom. Lucas’s bedroom. The window’s broken glass had been repaired. The room was cleaned up and no signs of the old battle remained.
The mattress was soft beneath her, and Lucas’s hand was a warm weight on her stomach. She stared up at the ceiling, not daring to look at him yet.
Last night they’d almost died. Somehow, they’d made it through. Rafe hadn’t. One less crazy jerk in the world. One less nightmare to haunt her.
They’d made it, and she’d told Lucas—
I love you.
But he hadn’t said a word back to her. If she hadn’t been barely clinging to consciousness, that would probably have hurt her more then.
Since she was fully awake and aware now, it hurt like a bitch.
She tried to ease away from him, but his hand slipped down and curled around her waist, holding her in place. “Thought we covered this,” his voice rumbled. “You don’t get away from me.”
Yes, she vaguely remembered something about that. But, what was crystal clear in her head . . .
He didn’t say he loved me. We almost died and he never said . . .
She swallowed. “I just . . . I—” Great. She didn’t know what to say. What to do.
“While you were sleeping, you called my name.”
That wasn’t going to embarrass her. She’d already said she loved the guy. So she whispered his name in her sleep. So what?
“I don’t know if anyone has ever
dreamed
about me before.” His lips pressed against the curve of her shoulder. “Had nightmares, yeah, but not
dreamed
about me.”
“Well, if you want the truth . . .” She turned her head and met his bright stare. “I’ve been dreaming about you for months.”
He blinked.
What did she have to lose? “I wasn’t out of my head last night. It wasn’t pain talking. I meant what I said.”
Did you mean what you didn’t say?
“I’m in love with you, Lucas.”
No more blinks. His gaze bored into hers. “What do you want from me?”
Not
that response. “I want everything that you can give me. You said we’re mates. Okay, I don’t know what makes someone a mate or—”
“You can have my children. Your genetics balance with mine. I knew the first time we had sex that we were compatible.”
Compatible? She didn’t want compatible. Sarah rolled away from him.
He caught her arm and rolled her right back. “Dammit, I’m messing this up!”
“Yes, you are.” Gritted.
His eyes blazed down at her. “I’m not sure I know what love is.”
Her lips parted.
He kissed her. Hard and deep and his taste was right, just what she wanted, and her sex began to moisten.
For him. Only him.
The guy had ruined her for other men. And not because they were
compatible
or had a good
genetic
match
.
His head lifted. “In case you haven’t noticed, my life hasn’t exactly been easy.”
She’d noticed.
“Women in my life have been around for a few days. I just took the pleasure and walked away. No attachments.”
She didn’t want to hear about his pleasure with other women. The guy was really lucky she didn’t have claws.
“Jordan’s my only family. The pack—hell, we don’t know about love. None of us. Obsession. Need. Hunger. Lust. Yeah, we got that.”
Wolves always understood the darker drives. Animal instinct.
But it was the man who could love. Didn’t he realize that? “I want you, Sarah. I need you. Hell, sometimes I feel like I need you more than I need my next breath.”
That was . . . oh.
“I knew you were dying last night. I could see it, and I just wanted—”
“I wanted to touch you,” she whispered, cutting across his words. “Just one more time.”
“That was some powerful touch.” His lips skimmed hers.
“I think you pushed death back for us again.”
How many more chances would they have?
“You know how it works now, don’t you? Whatever magic Marie wove, it can’t be broken,” he said. “Our lives are linked, everything tied together. When one of us dies . . .”
“I—I know.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You could do better than me.” Said gruffly. “We’re bound, but you don’t have to spend your days with—”
“Watch it, wolf,” she warned, her own voice sharp. “You’re talking about my mate.”
His jaw clenched. “Mating doesn’t equal love.”
Okay, why didn’t he just claw her heart out? “With you, for me, it does.”
Lucas stared at her, then his eyelids squeezed shut. “I’m going to fuck this up. I’m not easy to live with, hell, nothing about pack is easy.”
Her fingers curled over his broad shoulders. “What makes you think life with me is easy?” She paused. “What makes you think I
want
easy?” Maybe she should have been trying to spare her pride and pull back from him, but her confession was out there, and she wasn’t going to slink away in shame.
His eyes open. Burned with so much intensity. “I’m a possessive bastard. I’m wild. The animal inside is too strong. I can’t always control him.”
Bull. “You have more control than anyone I’ve ever met.”
His legs eased between hers. She could feel his arousal, thick and hard and so long. Aroused, but . . . he wasn’t pushing his flesh against her.
Sex wasn’t going to solve this. They both seemed to understand that.
“I’ll lie for you, Sarah. Kill for you.”
He already had.
“I’d turn my back on the pack for you . . .”
Now he had her tensing because that was more of a sacrifice than she’d ever ask of him.
“And I will
never
want anyone as much as I want you.” He shook his head. “But I don’t know that I can give you what you need.”
And he was breaking her heart. Her hand slid down his chest. Pressed once more over the heart that raced so fast. “What do you want for me?”
His brows furrowed.
“What do you want my life to be like?”
A muscle flexed in his jaw. “I want you . . . happy.” Promising. Maybe he really didn’t know. “When you’re with me, how do you feel?”
His breath hissed out. “Like I’ve finally found home.”
The wolf was going to make her cry. “That’s how I feel when I’m with you. Like I belong. Like I found a part of myself that was missing . . . I didn’t even know it was missing. . . .” Not until she’d walked into a jail and peered at a wolf caged behind the bars.
Mine.
“I love you, Lucas, and I’m not going to walk away. I won’t give up on us.” Whatever came their way—wolves, wars, pack—she’d stay by his side.
“Love.” He said the word as if he were tasting it. “You’re the first thing I think about when I open my eyes. The last damn thing at night. And when I dream . . .” He swallowed. “It’s of you. Sarah, is that close to love?”
So lost. Her big, bad wolf was strong in so many ways. She’d teach him this. Show him the way. “Yes, Lucas, it’s close.” No, better than close.
“I’d rip apart anyone who hurt you, and damn, woman, I feel like I’d give my soul—or whatever the hell is left of it—just to see you smile.”
Better than close.
“That’s love,” she whispered.
His brows smoothed. His lips began to curl. “Then Sarah King . . . I love you.”
She was pretty sure her fast heartbeat shook her chest. Maybe even the whole bed.
“I won’t let you go,” he told her, his mouth so close to hers that she could taste him.
Would
taste him, very soon.
“Good. Because I’d hate to hunt you down.” She nipped at his lip and felt the tightening of his body.
“Forever, Sarah?”
“Forever, Lucas,” she promised.
Bound, linked, always—with her big, bad wolf.
Epilogue
“C
aleb’s gone.” Dane spun around as soon as he made the announcement. Shit, okay, he
should
not have busted into the alpha’s room. But, wow, Sarah had one fine ass.
Lucas’s growl filled the bedroom. “
Don’t
look back, Dane.”
Yeah, he knew a death threat when he heard one. Dane stared into the hallway. “He slipped away while we were fighting Rafe.” His gut tightened. “Do we hunt him?”
“Lucas . . .” Sarah’s soft voice. Husky. Sounded like pleasure and sex.
Lucky bastard.
But maybe, just maybe, he could have the devil’s luck, too.
Karen had survived the attack.
He’d already checked the hospital.
Had
to check. She’d survived.
Now what would he do with her? To her?
If Caleb hadn’t pulled this vanishing crap, he’d be at Karen’s side right then.
“He didn’t kill when he had the chance. He never went for your throat,” Sarah told Lucas.
Sheets rustled. Dane still didn’t look back as he asked, “Is he Lone?” Cast out. Left to fight and struggle on his own.
“No.”
Dane’s head jerked but he managed—barely—not to glance over his shoulder.
“Not yet. The pack will judge. All of the pack. Once we find him.”
Dane stepped into the hallway. “Do we start the hunt now?”
“No need.” More sheets rustled. Dane heard Sarah sigh softly. “I know where he’s going,” Lucas said. “There’s only one person in town that might be able to help him, and she’s already being watched by pack.”
“Then what are the orders?”
“Stand down—and wait. Our lost wolf will be back. One way or another . . .”
Josette slipped the ruby ring onto her finger. A perfect fit. Her mother’s ring. Taken when Carline was slaughtered in a dirty alley by a vamp.
Taken, but then retrieved by another. Maya had recovered the ring when she’d killed the vampire who’d drained Josette’s mother.
We’re not all monsters.
Maya’s words, spoken years ago. Josette just hadn’t wanted to believe her then.
Now, she knew the truth.
“What’s happened to you, Josie?” Maya asked quietly. They’d washed away the blood. Bandaged the wounds. Now Josette stood, waiting.
Because she knew what was coming.
Thanks to her
grand-mère,
she wasn’t weak anymore. Wouldn’t ever be weak again, and now, she knew
everything.
Not all monsters.
No, some paranormals were good, some were bad. Just like humans.
And they would be coming to her. Over and over. Seeking help. Seeking power. Seeking life.
Perhaps finding death.
“I didn’t want this,” she whispered to the vampire who’d once been her only friend. In another life . . . so long ago.
Maya’s hand brushed her shoulder. “Let me help you.”
Josette shook her head. “You can’t.” No one could.
She lifted her chin when she heard the creak of the floorboard. The first. Far from the last.
Not the wolf she’d wanted to see, though, not him. Not yet.
Caleb McKenzie paused just outside of her doorway. “I-I need your help.”
She’d seen
grand-mère
do this so many times. “And what will you give me?”
“Anything.”
So desperate. That would make him dangerous. The world began to fog around Josette as power fueled her blood.
Anything.
If he wasn’t careful, the wolf would end up trading everything.
After all, magic demanded a high price.
It was a lesson Sarah King had learned. She’d paid, she’d loved, and by a trick of fate, she’d lived.
Not everyone could be so lucky.
But then, Sarah King truly lived a charmed life.
If you liked this book, try Dani Harper’s
CHANGELING DREAM,
in stores now . . .
W
hat kind of woman runs after a wolf?
James was no closer to answering that question than he had been many hours before when he had paused in the clinic loft, two bounds away from the open window, and listened to the human calling after the white wolf. He had been startled to find the woman up and around so close to dawn, but more surprised by her reaction when she spotted him. She should have been terrified, should have been screaming. Instead she had stopped still, remaining quiet until he melted back into the darkness—then had plunged forward in a vain attempt to follow him. She acted as if she knew the wolf, but how could that be? There was something else too; something in her voice had almost compelled him to—what? Answer her? Reveal himself? He didn’t know. The woman had gone from room to room then, switching on every light, searching.
He wasn’t surprised when she didn’t check the loft. After all, it was fifteen feet above the ground floor and accessible only by a vertical ladder. A wolf couldn’t climb it, and she had no way of knowing that what she pursued was not a wolf and that the ladder was no impediment to him at all. The stack of bales outside, from which he had initially leapt, was more than thirty feet from the loading door of the loft. Only a very large tiger might cross such a span. Or a Changeling.
James felt a strange disappointment tugging at his senses, almost a regret that the woman had not found him.
Who are you? Why do I know you?
Within his lupine body, James chuffed out a breath in frustration.
And why do I care?
The angle of the fading light told him it was time to hunt, that deer would be on the move. Weary of human thoughts and human concerns, he relaxed into his wolf nature and disappeared beneath it.
“What a tourist I am!” Jillian berated herself for not bringing a cell phone, for not paying more attention to the time, for traveling in the bush alone, for not packing at least a chocolate bar. Two chocolate bars. Maybe three. The energy bars she’d brought tasted like wet cardboard. She made a long mental list of the things she was going to do to be more prepared for the next hike, because as difficult as the trail was, she simply had to go back to that rocky plateau, had to see if the wolves would return. Was it part of their territory or were they just passing through?
The sun was long gone. Stars were pinning a deep indigo sky, and a full moon was floating just above the horizon. It had climbed enough to glimmer through the trees and lay a broad swath of light over the surface of the river when Jillian finally found the marked hiking trail. Compared to the goat path she’d been traveling, the graveled corridor was like a wide paved highway, level and free of overhanging brush and fallen logs. It promised easier, faster travel in spite of the darkness. She was still two and a half, maybe three, miles from the truck she had borrowed from the clinic, but at least now she had a direct route.
The flashback broadsided her without warning.
It might have been the crunch of gravel beneath her feet, the rustle of leaves in the trees, or the scent of the river, but whatever the trigger, she was suddenly on another trail by another river. Phantom images, sounds, even smells burst vividly upon her senses. Jillian stumbled forward and fell to her knees, skinning them both right through her jeans. She rolled and sat, but clasped her hands to her head rather than to her wounds. “Don’t close your eyes, don’t close your eyes. You’re not there, it’s not real, it’s over. Jesus, it’s over, it’s over and you’re okay. You’re okay.” She spoke slowly, deliberately, coaching herself until the shaking stopped. “It’s a different place and a different time. I’m not back there, I’m here. I’m here and I’m okay.”
I’m okay, I’m okay.
But she wasn’t, not yet. She rocked back and forth in the gravel. “My name is Jillian Descharme and I’m a licensed veterinarian and I’m okay. I’m thirty-two years old and I’m in Dunvegan, Alberta, and I’m okay. Nothing is threatening me, nothing is wrong, I’m okay.” She drew a long shaky breath and rubbed her runny nose with her sleeve like a child. “I’m okay. Jeez! Jeez goddamn Louise!” She was cold, freezing cold, her clothes soaked with sweat and her skin clammy, but the fear had her by the throat and she couldn’t move. She had to think of something fast, something to help her break away from this terror, break out of this inertia or she’d be here all night. And then it came. The image of the white wolf—the memory, the dream, flowed into her, warmed her like brandy. Jillian clung to that mental picture like a life preserver in rough seas, let the wolf’s unspoken words fill her mind and calm it.
Not alone. Here with you.
She rose at last on trembling legs and cursed as her knees made their condition known. The sharp stinging cleared the last of the flashback from her head however, banished the nausea from her stomach. She stood for several moments, hugging herself, rubbing her hands over her upper arms. She sucked in great lungfuls of the cool moist air until she felt steady again, and took a few tentative steps along the dark path—but had to resist the impulse to run. If she ran, she might never stop.
“Think of the white wolf, think of the white wolf.” Calm, she had to be calm. Take big breaths. “Walk like a normal person. It’s okay to walk fast because I’m busy, got things to do, places to go, people to see, but I don’t have to run. I can walk because nothing’s wrong, I’m okay.” She was in control, she would stay in control. As she walked, however, she couldn’t stop her senses from being on hyper-alert. Jillian’s eyes flicked rapidly from side to side, searching the darkness, her ears straining to hear any rustle of leaf or snap of twig. She noticed the tiny brown bats that dipped and whirled in the air above her. She noted the calls of night birds, of loons settling and owls hunting. A mouse hurried in front of her, crossing and re-crossing the path. A few moments later, a weasel followed it, in a slinky rolling motion. Jillian was keenly aware of everything—the blood pounding in her ears, the sound of her footsteps in the gravel, the liquid sounds of the nearby river—but not the tree root bulging up through the path.
She yelled in surprise, then in pain as her knees hit the gravel again. She rolled to a sitting position, cursing the sharp stinging and her own clumsiness—hadn’t she
just
successfully negotiated a rugged game trail down a steep hillside for heaven’s sake? She couldn’t see much even with the moon’s light, but a quick examination showed both knees were bleeding, her jeans in shreds. She cursed even more as she picked out a few obvious shards of gravel, but cleaning and bandaging were just going to have to wait until she reached the truck. At least it wasn’t anything worse. Annoying, damn painful and embarrassing, but not a broken ankle or snakebite. Her eyes strayed to the underbrush in spite of herself—there weren’t any poisonous snakes this far north, were there? “Good grief!” Jillian yanked her mind firmly away from
that
train of thought and was pondering whether it was possible to stand without bending her knees when she heard the howl.
She sat bolt upright as if an electric current had suddenly passed through her, every hair on end, every sense alert. The call came again, closer. Deep, primal, long and low. Drawn out and out and out, an ancient song, mournful yet somehow sweet. When it fell silent, Jillian felt as if time itself had stopped. And she found herself straining to hear the song again, fascinated, even as her brain told her to run and instinct told her to freeze.
The moon was higher now. The pale light filtered down through the trees and laid a dappled carpet of silver on the stony path. There was no wind, no breeze. Jillian held her breath, listening, watching, but all was still. Her heart was pounding hard with both excitement and fear. Normally she would have loved to get a glimpse of a wolf in the wild, but the idea was a lot less attractive when she was alone in the dark. There were few recorded incidents of wolves attacking or killing humans, but all the data in the world wasn’t very reassuring when she was sitting there bleeding. Immediately she wished she hadn’t thought of that. It was just a little blood, but she struggled to get the image of a wounded fish in a shark tank out of her head.
A movement at the edge of the path beyond seized her attention. A pale shape emerged from the shadows, seemed to coalesce in the moonlight and grow larger until it was a vivid white creature of impossible size. Jillian’s heart stuck in her throat as the great wolf slowly turned its massive head and stared directly at her.
Oh, Jesus.
She had studied wolves more than any other wildlife, but only from books and captive specimens. Wolves don’t attack humans, she reminded herself. Wolves don’t attack humans—but there had been cases in Alaska. She gritted her teeth and sat perfectly still, afraid to breathe as the wolf began to slowly move in her direction. The creature approached within ten feet, then abruptly sat on its haunches and stared at her.
It was enormous. She swallowed hard, realizing if the wolf attacked there would be nothing she could do. Nothing. She wouldn’t even manage a scream before it was on her. Not one bit of her martial arts training would help, especially when she was sitting on the ground. Nevertheless she scanned the ground with her peripheral vision for anything she might use as a weapon. Her fingers inched toward a rock, closed around it as the wolf rose, took a slow step toward her, into a pool of moonlight. Instantly its snowy fur gleamed and its eyes were . . . its eyes were. . . .
Blue.
Jillian felt as if the air had been knocked from her body. The rock rolled out of her palm. Trembling, shaking, she reached a tentative hand toward the animal. “You. It’s you,” she choked out. “Oh, my God, it’s you, isn’t it? You’re real.”
The wolf closed the gap between them and licked her outstretched fingers.
Omigod, omigod.
She couldn’t move at first, both enthralled and terrified—until the animal nudged its head under her hand like a dog asking to be petted. Jillian moved her fingers lightly across the broad skull, scratching hesitantly at first. Then fear fell away, and she worked both hands behind the sensitive ears, into the glossy ruff. The wolf stood panting mildly, the immense jaws slack and the great pink tongue lolling out in apparent pleasure. Jillian had no illusions about the animal’s power—it might behave like a big dog but those jaws could easily crack the leg bones of a moose, those teeth could tear out the throat of a bull elk in full flight. And as surely as she knew those facts, she knew the wolf would not hurt her. It wasn’t sensible, it wasn’t logical, but the certainty was core-deep. Instinct? Intuition? Insanity? She didn’t know and didn’t care. The wolf held steady as Jillian wrapped her arms around its great neck and buried her face in its thick white fur. “I thought I dreamed you. You came to me. You came when no one would come, but they all told me I dreamed you because no one saw you but me. And I looked and looked for you, but I couldn’t find you.”
Here now. Found you.