Lycan Redemption (3 page)

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Authors: S. K. Yule

BOOK: Lycan Redemption
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Even when he’d approached her from the tree line, he’d had a way with his body language. He was one of those rare people who could communicate with his actions in a way that was natural and unnoticeable until scrutinized. People spoke volumes with body language regularly, but most didn’t realize they were doing it. On the other hand, most didn’t pick up on it either, so reliant on technology for communication in this day and age.

Galen didn’t strike her as a guy who’d give much notice to today’s gadgets and technology. He reminded her of a predator who relied solely on instinct. She didn’t understand why she thought all of this about someone she’d only just met, and chastised herself for jumping to conclusions about him when she had no idea if anything she was thinking was true. Judging people without knowing them was one of man’s great downfalls.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

She watched him for any hint that he might be in trouble or running. That question would make most who were flinch or give some telltale sign that it was a touchy subject. Galen didn’t miss a beat as he forked the last bite of his pie into his mouth.

“All over,” he said.

“Well that narrows it down,” she said before sipping her steamy black coffee from her favorite red mug.

He swallowed and trained his hazel eyes on her. After a couple minutes, she had to quell the urge to squirm under his gaze. The way he watched her was unsettling, but also managed to start a slow fire burning in her belly.

* * * *

Galen watched Myka. She tried hard to conceal the discomfort she felt under his gaze, but he was an expert at reading people. Her questions weren’t meant to be nosy. He was sure of it. Strangely, he wished he could tell her everything about his life, including the current fucked-up predicament he was in. But he couldn’t.

He’d been in tune to his instincts and body every second of every day for as long as he could remember, but Myka had the ability to make him forget everything with one smile of her full, pouty lips. He wanted to throw her to the floor, rip her clothes off with his teeth, and claim her. But not only that. It wasn’t just about sex. He wanted to hold her in his arms, feel her snuggled against his chest as her breaths from their lovemaking evened out into sleep.

A slow ache had started in his chest when he’d first seen her, and now just a short time later, that ache had spread throughout every cell and into every limb. It was a yearning, a throbbing beat of need that would get stronger every day.

He was lonely, and now that he’d found his mate, all he wanted was a chance to love her, to make her love him. He didn’t have that luxury. If he lost focus, if he slipped up, he could place her in danger. Being here in itself was risky, and he should simply disappear from her life and move on tonight. But he was a predator, and his wolf wanted its mate nearly as bad as his human side did. He was an ancient. His instincts were sharpened by experience, and if he kept his head on straight, he could have this stolen, precious time with her without putting her in danger.

“Myka.” Her name tasted as sweet on his lips as he knew she would. “I’m not in trouble with the law.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie. He wasn’t in trouble with the law. His trouble involved something far deadlier than the justice system. If he could only explain to her what he was, but he could not open his world to her since he had no intention of claiming her. Maybe one day he’d be able to clean up the mess he was in and come back for her, but this was not that time, no matter how much his soul, his heart screamed that they didn’t care. They wanted her at any cost.

He couldn’t risk her life, and he couldn’t forget about Patrick either. The boy was smart and intuitive. He’d liked him instantly, and Patrick’s curiosity had been an indication that he liked Galen as well. He doubted it would be easy to get close to Patrick with the recent loss of his father. While Galen was fond of Patrick, would have no problem being a father to him, he didn’t want to encourage the relationship only to end up hurting the kid in the end.

“Oh! I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. You have every right to ask that of me. After all, I am a stranger, and I’m staying at your place.” He leaned back in the chair. “I’m a private man, but I give you my word that I will never do anything to hurt you or Patrick. I will work hard for you, and I will watch over both of you while I’m here.”

She smiled at him, and his heart nearly leaped up in his throat. Damn but she was beautiful. And tiny. She was so small he was worried she might break if he bumped into her. He had a foot and a half on her, and he had to be careful not to let his wolf get too rambunctious. The fact that he could hurt her so easily scared the hell out of him.

“Fair enough. Did you find your room in the barn all right?”

He nodded.

“I’ll get you some towels, sheets, and that blanket then.”

When she reached for his empty plate, he covered her hand with his. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open when she looked up at him. The electricity that sparked from that touch shot straight to his groin, and he beat down the growl that threatened to erupt from his chest. He was sure she’d felt it too.

“I’ll clean up.”

She nodded, and slowly tugged her hand from under his before getting up and hurriedly disappearing into the other room. He licked his lips and threatened his cock with bodily harm if it didn’t settle down. Unfortunately, it took his threat as a challenge. Myka might be small, but she had a nice curvy butt he’d like to sink his fingers into while pounding into her sweet, creamy
— Stop it!
He growled to himself.

By the time he’d put the plates in the sink, she’d returned. Patrick followed her with his own plate and glass.

“You leaving now, Galen?” he asked as he put his dishes in the sink.

“Yep. Myka says I have to stay in the barn.” He winked at Patrick. “Which is exactly where I belong.”

Patrick grinned, waved, then ran back into the other room.

“Here.” Myka handed him the pile of linens.

“Thank you. What do you need me to do in the morning? I’m an early riser.”

That was an understatement. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept for more than a couple hours.

“I stripped the stalls today. There are six of them. They will need picked out every day and stripped once a week. I’ll show you what and how much to feed the horses as well. They will need watered daily too. It’s taken care of for this evening. I turn them out every morning unless the weather is bad. Two of the horses, the black-and-white mare and gelding named Buddy and Chloe, are mine—actually, Buddy is Patrick’s. The other four are boarders. Patrick is not allowed around the horses unsupervised. There are some repairs that need done on the house, barn, and chicken coop, and the pasture fencing will need maintained regularly. There’s more, but I’ll fill you in as we go along.”

Which meant she’d fill him in if he was still around.

“See you tomorrow then, Myka.”

“Oh. Tomorrow, Mr. Ryan—Tom—will be delivering my hay stock for the rest of fall and winter. I’ll need help unloading and stacking it in the barn. It’s a big load, around six hundred bales.”

He frowned. “Did you have someone else besides me lined up to help tomorrow?”

“Nope. It would have been a long day for me and Tom. I’m glad you’ll be here to help. Tom will be happy to see you too.”

“Are you telling me that you would have unloaded all six hundred bales yourself?”

“No. Tom helps.”

He was impressed if a little slip of a thing like her could unload six hundred bales of hay in a day. He wasn’t sexist by any means. He’d met women in his time who were stronger than a lot of men. He supposed he was reverting back to caveman days because she was his mate. He didn’t like the thought of her working so hard. Whether she was in shape and strong or not, her size alone would make it a challenge to handle the awkward, heavy bales.

“I’m sure Tom and I can deal with the hay tomorrow if you have other things to do.”

“I always do my part.” She squared her slim shoulders.

He hadn’t thought it would be that easy to dissuade her. Although he’d known her a short time, he had no doubt of her responsible and probably stubborn nature. She would have never gotten by on her own out here taking care of Patrick thus far without those two traits. He admired her for her strength, but at the same time hoped his stay would make things easier for her. Tomorrow he’d have to make sure to find a way to distract her as much as possible from the hay.

“I have no doubt of that.”

“Good night, Galen.”

“Good night, Myka.”

He carried the linens to the small apartment in the back of the barn and made the bed after putting the towels in a small cabinet in the bathroom. Afterward, he stretched out on his back on the surprisingly comfortable twin-sized bed. His feet hung off the end, but it was heaven to be lying on something other than the hard ground. His wolf itched to get out, but he refused.

Not tonight.

He closed his eyes. It was still fairly early, but he knew once the deep of night kicked in, he’d be wide awake, and decided to grab a couple hours of much-needed sleep now if possible. As his muscles relaxed, his instincts sharpened and stood on alert, waiting to sound the alarm bells if any type of danger was detected. Any noise, any scent that didn’t belong would set off his inner warning.

He pulled in a deep breath.
Speaking of scent.
Myka’s called to him with every breath he took. She had the main scent that all potential mates carried, but the mated scent was the one that called to him strongest. The mated scent was detectable only by one’s fated mate. When that second scent had hit him earlier, his knees had nearly buckled under him. Knowing that he was the only one privileged to that second scent made it all that much harder to resist claiming her.

He groaned and stretched his arms over his head, then linked his fingers behind his neck. Staying here with Myka without touching her was going to be one hell of a challenge.

Chapter Three

Myka groaned when she rolled out of bed the next morning. It was barely daylight, the gray overcast of the sky making it nearly impossible for what little sun there was to peek through the window. She was up early most days, but she never had been, wasn’t, and never would be a morning person. She glanced at the clock. It was only five forty-five, even earlier than her usual wake-up time of six thirty to seven o’clock. She’d try to doze for another hour if she thought she’d actually get back to sleep, but she’d tried that trick before. The few times she had fallen back asleep, she’d been more tired when she had to get back up such a short time later.

Patrick didn’t usually stir until around eight or eight thirty. Most mornings that allowed her enough time to get the horses fed and watered and breakfast started before he was up. She dragged herself to the shower after getting her underwear, jeans, and T-shirt, hoping the water would help wake her up. Twenty-five minutes later, she was still struggling with sleepiness and started a pot of coffee before slipping on her socks, boots, and jacket and heading to the barn.

She sighed as the thick, undulating clouds began spitting a misty rain. This was not going to be a fun day to unload hay. A couple minutes later, she stood in front of Buddy’s stall. He, along with the rest of the horses, were munching happily on hay.

“I didn’t give them grain because I wasn’t sure how much.”

She spun around to find Galen standing behind her. Her breath whooshed from her lungs at the sight of him. He wore a pair of black jeans that hung low on his hips, a black belt, and the same hiking boots from yesterday. And while the jeans looked delicious on him, it was his bare torso that caught her eye. Though she wouldn’t call it cold out, she thought it a bit chilly to be going without a shirt. He, on the other hand, didn’t appear fazed in the least by the chilly morning.

She licked her lips. He was beautifully sculpted, and she couldn’t help but admire the wide chest on display. His skin was the perfect shade of gold, and dark brown hair dusted his pecs. As her eyes roamed downward, she took in his etched six-pack, and the fine line of hair that started just under his belly button before it dove under the waist of his jeans. She couldn’t help but be a bit envious of that happy trail.

While only a couple seconds had passed, she felt as if she’d been ogling him for ten minutes, and when she looked back up to into his face, her breath didn’t just whoosh from her lungs this time. It vanished. Hazel eyes stared intently at her. That wasn’t what stole her breath, though. The slight and eerie glow they were giving off is what froze her in place. His sharp jawline was covered in dark stubble, and he looked as lethal as any predator she’d ever seen.

But just as quickly as fear slithered into her veins, it disappeared with as much speed as it had entered. Why was she sure that Galen would never hurt her? Was she being a naive fool? For all she knew, he could be lying to her. He could be running from the law. He could be dangerous. She stared back at him, deep into those alluring pools of silver. He was definitely dangerous. But not to her. Not to Patrick.

Fool. You always were too trusting. Don’t let a pretty face cloud your judgment.

One of his dark brows slowly rose as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Should I not have given them hay?”

His voice shook her from her thoughts.

“I’m sorry. I was a little, um, sidetracked. Forgive me.”

Damn.
Sidetracked?
She wanted to facepalm herself. While she was sure he’d noticed her drooling over him, she didn’t need to go and point it out. It was one of those moments when she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

“Thank you for giving them hay.”

“I watered them as well. If you want to show me how much grain they get, I can take care of that too.”

She began to tremble. His nearness, his voice, even his scent had too much of an effect on her for someone she’d met only hours before.

“Grain is over here.”

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