Emily's Story (7 page)

Her nose and the tips of her breasts were the only thing sticking out of the water. Bubbles, he would have bubble bath delivered tomorrow. He could think of nothing at this moment that would be more erotic. Stepping back, he silently closed the door.

Fifteen minutes later, she came out wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a soft cotton t-shirt he’d left on the bathroom counter, dripping hair, bare feet, and large blue eyes. Exquisite. He left her standing in the living area and walked to the bathroom grabbing another towel and a comb from a drawer. The smell of the comb made him smile. Cheri. But not for long if his mate would cooperate. Holding the towel toward her, he patiently waited until her hand reached out and took it. “Follow me.” He walked to the couch expecting her to follow. “Sit here and I’ll dry your hair a little more and get the tangles out.”

Her lack of hesitation surprised him. She kneeled down and then sat at his feet, facing away from him. Wrapping the towel around the wet ends of her hair, he couldn’t help but lean forward and inhale. Her smell was magnificent. Reaching for the comb, he gently began untangling the wet strands. Her fists clenched tightly and her shoulders remained tense but finally, with gentle patience, her platinum blonde hair slid smoothly through his fingers. Placing the comb on the couch beside him, he rested his hands on her shoulders and gradually, with exquisite care, soothed her muscles. She flinched ever so slightly with each aching touch. He thought she might run but she stayed seated. He worked his fingers into her neck, shoulders, and back. Her muscles finally loosened and her body, with a mind of its own, swayed back against his legs.

Brandt’s lips were a hair’s breadth from her ear, his voice gentle and coaxing, “Of everything you missed in your life, touch is what wolves need most. To be part of a pack is to be loved, cherished, and nurtured. We crave the closeness of our kind and sharing our scent connects our family’s lineage and enhances the bond.” Brandt’s hands lightly skimmed her neck and the underside of her jaw. “Touch is everything.” Gently, his lips touched the top of her head.

A single tear slid down her cheek. Her body unresistingly melted further into his.

Her chin rubbed against his hand and he smiled. She sat silently allowing his touch, her wolf craving his closeness. Finally, she released a gentle snore causing him to smile fully and then lift her to his lap. Her body remained lax and she didn’t stir. Holding her close, he let another hour pass just to saver the scent of his mate.

His insides, knotted and tense from months of strain were slowly untying, turmoil giving way to protectiveness and love. He gave her one last kiss on the cheek before carrying her to bed. He shed his clothes needing her scent to blend with his. Closing his eyes he allowed the sense of peace to wash over him. Drawing her more firmly to his body, he fell asleep with his nose in her hair and a last thought before darkness closed around him.
What is her name?

Terrifying screams jolted him from the bed. Deadly wolf eyes searched for danger but there was none. She was sitting up with her eyes staring straight ahead and trapped in a nightmare. Climbing back on the bed, he moved to her side. “Shhhh, you're okay.” He kept his voice soft and melodic and gently touched her arm. The screaming stopped suddenly but uncontrollable tremors racked her body. Holding her close, his hands traveled up and down her arms giving what comfort he could. Finally, her muscles went slack, her breathing slowed, and her body calmed. His alpha’s rage intensified because there was no one to kill.

Chapter 9

Bright sunlight and strong arms holding her close brought Emily awake. She was on her side and sprawled half on top of his warmth with her cheek against his chest. His eyes closed and his face peaceful, she inhaled deeply. Bringing her hand up, she touched one finger to the skin beside her cheek. Soft but hard. She allowed her hand, with a feather touch, to glide over his chest and then travel higher.

The whisper of a touch brought him awake. Not opening his eyes, her smell enveloped him. Incredibly soft fingers trail from his chest to his neck. The soft caress became a gentle poke and he couldn’t help but smile. Her hand jerked away. He peered between his eyelids. Her eyes were downcast and using his hand he tilted her face to his gaze. His voice, gruff with sleep whispered, “I need touch like you. My body is different, hard where yours is soft.” Taking her hand he placed it back on his chest. Her fingers balled into a fist and didn’t move. Connecting with her mind, he couldn’t help it and laughed out loud at her thoughts.

He’s a sin.

Exhaling with a low sigh over his self-imposed and momentary lack of wickedness, he got out of bed, and reached for his sweatpants. She had no idea how sinful he could be. “We need food, I’m starved.” Turning, he walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

Her erect profile sitting at the table greeted him when he came out. “I don’t mind cooking and feeding you but you might enjoy learning. I’m in the mood for bacon and pancakes; you can help if you wish.” He passed close and she gave him an inquisitive look when he entered the kitchen and began gathering bowls and pans. Over the clatter, he heard the soft click of the bathroom door.

Closing the door behind her, she sank to the cool floor. Quiet tears turned into muffled sobs. Her hands covered her face. So much want, so much need; his touch most of all. She didn’t know what was happening to her. When her tears slowed, she cautiously removed her clothing. She shifted to the demon she hated and the monster looked back through the looking glass. Bringing her front paws up to rest on the countertop, she stared. Human eyes peered back but nothing else was the same. Cocking her head to the side, she examined herself. Without thinking, her muscles tensed and she lunged upwards.

The loud clatter rang through the house. It sounded like several items fell off the bathroom counter. His heart pounding, he opened the door and saw a scrambling white wolf trying to right herself on the floor moving away to the back of the small room. His eyes took in the scattered accessories from the counter and with relief he realized she tried to jump on top in wolf form. Not taking his eyes from the she-wolf in front of him, he sent a mental message to Dominique to have a large free standing mirror sent over in an hour. His mental telepathy caused him to miss the deadly quick change in her demeanor.

Complete panic at the thought of punishment caused the red haze to fall over her eyes. Anger; intense, deadly, and focused on Brandt took over. With a loud rumbling growl, her wolf body flew across the small space.

Brandt, in the process of backing up slowly, knew what was about to happen. His wolf senses registered the danger before his human brain. His wide shoulders barely passed through the doorframe when white fur and large extended teeth launched. He flew backwards and smashed against the hallway wall when her body collided with his. His arms strained to keep her snapping jaws from his face. Her back legs found purchase and raked down his upper thigh, the sharp nails slicing deeply into his skin. Grabbing her upper wolf’s body and using his greater strength, he tossed her hard against the wall beside the bathroom door. The jarring impact made a loud thud and a slight whine escaped her throat. She immediately shifted to human. Sinking to the floor, she curled into a tight ball and tremors ravaged her body.

Bending forward, he grasped her arm tightly. Using his other hand, he tilted her face so her eyes looked into his. A low growl left his throat before he spoke. He battled with his alpha’s need for blood, her blood. “Babe, if you want a fight I’ll give it to you.” His eyes burned. “I’m stronger and deadlier. Right now you can’t win. The last thing I want is to hurt you but I won’t hesitate if you challenge me. Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen.” His dominant voice left no room for argument.

Dressed, but with resentment radiating from her pores, she appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later.

His anger had lessoned to disgruntlement though his thigh burned and blood soaked through his pants. He looked up and struggled not to laugh. She was no docile she-wolf but somehow she managed to control her irritation and keep her gaze down though her scent betrayed her. Their alphas needed to play and he couldn’t help but chuckle while picturing the blood spattered walls of their playground when it happened.

For a few moments he let her stand there. He assembled flour, eggs, and the other ingredients needed to prepare pancakes. Two pounds of bacon were sizzling in a large frying pan. Her nose twitched and he noticed her inhale. Spooning flour into a measuring cup, he walked over and used his body to gently nudge her toward the counter. The scent of her anger kindled but she moved.

He continued to press his luck and placed the cup in her tense fingers, squeezing slightly so she would hold on. “I’m hungry and I know you are too. We can fight or make pancakes.”

After a moment’s hesitation she calmed.

Food might be his saving grace and he would remember to use it. “Now, pour the flour into this bowl.” He pushed the bowl in front of her and guided her hand, showing her what he wanted. Filling the cup again with flour, he repeated the process three more times. Next were the eggs and using the same slow movements he showed her what to do. Sugar, baking powder, and milk joined the other ingredients and then he handed her a whisk. Following his hand motions she began mixing the batter. The pan was ready and he added butter. Looking sideways, he could see her in deep concentration while she stirred. Taking a step closer, he heard her heartbeat accelerate when he looked over her shoulder and into the bowl. It was time. Ignoring her slight scent of distress, he again took her hand in his placing a large spoon in her fingers and them scooping the creamy mixture and dropping a dollop onto the greased pan.

He left her watching the first batch cook and walked into the living room. His father loved soothing instrumental music. It wasn’t Brandt’s favorite but somehow he knew she would enjoy it. He chose Carter Burwell’s “Honor Inflamed”. It was a powerful piece with haunting flute and violins. The music filled the room and he sensed her walking up behind him. She wasn’t coming close but remembering the other knives in the kitchen he glanced over his shoulder.

Mesmerized by the sounds she stood staring at the speaker.

Walking back to the kitchen, he checked the pancakes, flipping them over and then returned to the living room. She was now sitting on the floor with her ear to the speaker, eyes closed, and body swaying with a look of complete rapture on her face. His wolf stood at attention. Shaking his head to get his mind to focus, he walked back into the kitchen to finish preparing their meal alone.

Her demon calmed and her body relaxed. The sound was gentle, beautiful, and eerie. She instinctively swayed to the low beat. No anger, no pain, it soothed her beast. All the fury which grew over the previous weeks relaxed. Good memories flooded her mind; Carolynn rubbing her hair through the bars when she was small, Christmas with a new dress and enough food to fill her belly, her mother’s voice reading about the baby Jesus. They were her only good memories and they trailed like smoke through her mind. Tears ran down her cheeks.

Everything was new; her rage, his touch, her fear, his voice. The music beckoned and her demon quieted. A soft touch on her shoulder had her opening her eyes and wiping away the tears before she turned. She could fall into his dark eyes. They mesmerized her and she yearned to reach her hand out and touch him.

“It’s time to eat. I’ll turn the music up so we can hear it in the other room.”

Sitting silently at the table they used their fingers while listening to music play in the background. After seeing him add syrup, she poured some on her plate and then added more. His she-wolf had a sweet tooth. They finished off the bacon and pancakes. There would be no table scraps with her around. When finished, he handed her his plate and turned to pick up the other items. She followed and he led her to the kitchen showing her how to rinse the dishes and place them in the dishwasher.

Concentrating, Emily connected his words with what he showed her. So many questions fired through her mind but she didn’t want him angry.

Multiple sudden loud knocks coming from the front door sounded through the house.

Instant crushing fear sent her running for the back bedroom. Escape, it was all she could think of.

Brandt missed grabbing her by a hair. Using the key from his pocket, he walked over and unbolted the front door. Samson stood patiently, stern faced and holding a large wooden framed Cheval mirror.

“How are the lovebirds this morning?” Unable to hold his facial muscles still any longer, he burst out laughing. “I’m glad to see you survived the night. Why do you want the mirror?”

Grinning, Brandt grabbed the monstrosity from his friend’s hands. “Wouldn’t you just love to know?” He kicked the door closed with a satisfying thump and Samson’s laughter slowly faded. Carrying his gift to the bedroom, he passed the closet where he knew she was hiding. He sat the mirror in the corner of the room and opened the window’s curtains wide. He then left the room to turn up the music even more. When he came back, she wasn’t in the closet or standing in front of the mirror, she was looking with heartfelt longing at what lay beyond the window.

“I’d love to take you out but I think we should hold off a day or two. The mirror is so you can look at your wolf form without falling down.” His voice teased gently and it surprised him when she answered.

“My demon will kill you.”

“No, you might try but I won’t die easily. You can control your wolf; it’s not a demon that does the killing.” He had no idea how to get through to her so he let instinct be his guide. “We need to talk but it’s hard because I don’t know your name. Sit in the chair for me.”

Turning away from the window, she immediately sat in the chair by the mirror.

Finally, it dawned on him; she did what he said if he didn’t ask and only commanded. Swallowing his ire, he closed his eyes for a split second to gain control. No alpha should be this broken. It killed him but he needed information. “What is your name?”