Mark of the Wolf (11 page)

She tilted her head as he had asked and tried
to ignore the way his muscles rippled. It wasn’t really the wound
that was bothering her, or his treatment of it; rather it was the
way her body sang when he was this close. She was desperate for him
to touch her — though she could never just ask him too. She
wondered if she was becoming addicted.

And then he would brush her so casually,
sending little sparks of fire through her system, pleasure washing
over her skin. The reaction was extreme, far too heightened; she
didn't know how to handle it. She wanted to be closer to him, but
she wasn’t letting herself, and that was maybe the most annoying
part of all.

Gareth started unrolling the gauze and
wrapped it around the side of her head, a duplicate of her old
bandage, though not quite as heavy. He sat back when he was
finished.

The TV was flashing pictures at them, though
it was on mute. He had a loud speaker system but she had yet to see
him use it. She slid back on the old couch, sinking into the slick
leather, but really she just wanted some space between them. She
couldn’t make up her mind what to do about how she was feeling, so
she did what came most naturally – creep away.

He got up and threw away her old bandages,
and when he came back, she found that he had changed out of his
jeans and T-shirt and into the gray sweatpants that she had worn
yesterday, along with a white, sleeveless undershirt. The shirt
displayed his arms perfectly, each curve and slope of muscle, every
cut. The tattoos stood out clearly against his skin, black ink,
intricate symbols and what appeared to be a moon at its center.

“
Interesting tattoos,” she commented,
figuring she had to say something since he had noticed her
staring.

He glanced at them. “They’re pack tattoos…
every pack member has to get them.” He sat down next to her again,
close on the couch, though he allowed her to keep some space
between them. She waited for him to keep talking, but instead he
reached for the remote and turned on the volume, then began
flipping channels.

Maddy was surprised. She kept expecting
something crazy to happen, but instead here she was, finishing out
a wild day in front of a big-screen TV in some guy’s living room.
Some older guy. A shiver ran through her, and she glanced at Gareth
again. He finally settled for a movie channel and sat back,
attentively watching the screen. After a moment he popped open a
can that had been sitting on the stand next to him. He took a sip
of beer and slouched his head back with a sigh.

She couldn’t take her eyes off him, and the
slippery couch kept dipping to one side, slowly forcing her to
slide closer and closer toward him. Her curled-up feet finally
touched his leg.

The movie continued, some action flick with
yelling and explosions in every scene. She slowly relaxed, allowing
herself to press more and more against him, turning her attention
back to the movie. The tension in her stomach finally started to
fade.

Then his arm slipped around her shoulders,
and he pulled her close. Now she was lying at his side, tucked
neatly into the crook of his arm. She was surprised by the sudden
position change, the sudden envelope of warmth around her. He held
her like that, still watching the TV, and she sighed. He smelled so
good!

His hand started gently kneading the muscles
of her arm. “You’re tense,” he murmured. “Relax.”

“
Easier said than done,” she muttered,
not really expecting him to hear her.

“
I’ll make it easy,” his voice was
low.

Maddy’s breath caught, but already he was
moving. He turned her gently so her back was facing him, not the
exact position she had imagined, and his hands went to her
shoulders where most of her tension had built up. Then he started
rubbing them, applying just enough pressure to soothe the muscles,
but not enough to hurt. He hit the crook between her shoulder and
neck and she sighed again, this time in pleasure, feeling her
muscles melt.

They stayed like that for a long couple of
minutes, his hands flowing over her shoulders and then her upper
arms, her neck, then down her spine and to her upper back. He
worked carefully and smoothly, his hands traveling lower and lower.
She felt him lean over, his back pressing against hers for a
moment, the brush of lips against the back of her neck. A
satisfying tingle ran down her spine and settled between her legs.
He was keeping her in an aroused state, so hot she thought she
might burn up.

She closed her eyes dreamily as he kneaded
out another knot, this one in her lower back. “Why are you doing
this?” she asked, her words slow.

“
Doing what?” he responded quietly,
though only after the briefest pause.

“
I don’t know, all of this… helping
me, saving me… taking care of me.” The last part was barely a
whisper, she said it so softly. It made her blush with
embarrassment, but he had taken care of her – he had wrapped her
bandage twice now, taken her to school, and then paid for their
dinner. Why?

She could feel him shrug behind her, and his
silence lasted a little too long for her liking. His hands moved to
the bottom of her shirt and she felt his fingers brush against the
bare skin there, slipping beneath the shirt and trailing across her
lower back. They left paths of fire across her skin, and she had to
stifle a groan.

“
Let’s say, for a moment, that I’m a
werewolf,” he murmured, his breath moving the hair near her ear.
She shivered at the sensation, his words barely audible. It was so
intimate it made her heart pound. “Separated from my pack, freshly
moved to Black River, and I’m spending a night running through the
forest.” His hands were trailing higher, up to her shoulder blades,
warm and steady. She could feel the callouses and cuts on his
fingers, probably caused by his job.

“
I’m running through the trees, and
suddenly I smell something – a human. But not just any human: a
young child, all alone. I take her back home, but it seems that
half the time I’m on that mountain, she’s out there too. I can’t
help but wonder why.” He paused again, his hands still trailing
across her back, and she sighed slowly. She could feel his fingers
pull against the skin, hitting the ridges of the scars that her
stepfather had left on her, most of them by his belt. It felt so
good to be touched, to feel his thumb running over the thin white
lines, the rough patches where her skin still held the raised,
white marks.

His hands grew still.

She frowned, wondering why he had stopped.
She was about to turn her head to look at him when suddenly he
grabbed the edge of her shirt and yanked it up, exposing the length
of her back. She yelped in surprise, ready to spring from the
couch.

But he held her still with one hand on her
shoulder, holding up the shirt, as the other one traced over the
skin of her back. His finger ran down a particularly thick line
that crossed her back diagonally. She remembered that one
especially; she hadn't been able to stand up immediately after, and
had laid on the floor for close to an hour. It had taken more than
a month to heal.

“
Shit,” he said softly.

Suddenly Maddy’s good mood dissipated. Poof.
Gone. He was staring at her scars, marks that she had never shown
anyone before, and that he sure as hell had never seen. Abruptly he
was pushing her forward, laying her down on her stomach. She
couldn't refuse. She was stretched along the couch and he hovered
behind her, his large hand stretched across her back. It traveled
up the skin, feeling every bump and ridge. His other hand rested on
her hip, firmly holding her in place.

“
What are these?” he asked quietly,
though she felt like he already knew the answer.

She lied anyway. “It was an accident,” she
said, stumbling on the words. She had never told anyone before
about her stepfather’s “treatments,” and the words were just as
hard to say now as they had been before. She couldn’t expose her
past; not like this, not when she felt so vulnerable. It was
humiliating. Each scar was a sign of her own weakness, her own
defeat.

“
Don’t bullshit me,” he growled, his
voice low and feral, dangerous. He grabbed her and swung her over,
laying her on her back, maneuvering her easily with his large
hands. Then he pulled her towards him and yanked the front of her
shirt up. Maddy let out a cry of outrage and tried to pull her
shirt down, but he was forcing it up to her neck, ripping the
cloth, his eyes inspecting her stomach and traveling over her skin.
She was relieved that she still wore her bra.

His fingers moved over her, this time pausing
at every knick and imperfection. There weren't as many scars on her
stomach, but several crescent marks and bumps where he had pinched
her, where his fingernails had bit into her skin. They were small
and unnoticeable in comparison to the marks on her back — but still
present.

She glanced at Gareth and the expression on
his face terrified her.

His eyes met hers, and she couldn’t
breathe.

“
Are you going to tell me what this is
about,” he snarled, his fangs bared, “or do I have to strip the
rest of you?”

The words left her weak and shaking. She
trembled where his hands were splayed against her stomach, his
thumb feathering over her skin. Her nipples were hard, pushing
against the soft fabric of her bra, and she knew the little peaks
were clearly visible. His eyes darted down to them; he didn't try
to hide the look. The tension in the room was enough to make her
sweat.

She turned her head away and closed her eyes.
“It’s nothing,” she muttered.

He began to growl. “Maddy….” His hands
traveled low to the waistband of her pants, and he deftly flicked
open the top button.

“
I don’t want to talk about it!” she
said desperately, and twisted, trying to wiggle away. He let her
slide out from under him for a few inches, then he grabbed her
firmly by the waist and pulled her right back, holding her between
his thighs, forcing her closer. Her legs were tangled with his, and
their crotches close to touching – he leaned over her, looking down
at her body.

“
Don’t test me, babe,” he said, his
voice dark. “Tell me, or I’ll do something you may regret later.”
And he leaned his head down, gently licking the indent of her hips,
right along the edge of her pants. She let out a small gasp of
surprise and then whimpered, unable to control the
sound.

She closed her eyes. ‘Something she might
regret later’ he had said. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine regretting
it, but at the same time his wildness scared her.

He worked at the zipper of her pants, pulling
them slowly down. She swallowed. Turned her face away towards the
couch, trying to curl her body up and away from him. His hands held
her gently but firmly.

“
It’s nothing… just my stepfather,”
she said quietly, talking into her hands rather than to his face.
She couldn’t bear to look. “He… he’s not… he hits me sometimes,
okay? When he gets drunk and stuff. He’ll get angry, and you know,
I’m the only one around.” Suddenly she felt tears spring to her
eyes, and she let out a choked laugh, a small and pathetic sound.
Gareth’s hands had stopped moving. She could tell he was stiff and
tense.

Then she felt his hand again on her back,
running over those scars, leaving chills across her skin. “And
these?” he asked slowly.

“
His belt,” she whispered. She didn’t
know why, she couldn’t control it, but a tear slid down her cheek.
Thank god she was hiding her face. She hadn’t cried over the
beatings for a long time, several years at least.

“
And this is the same man who sold you
out to pay for his gambling debts?” he said quietly. Maddy nodded,
her throat too choked to speak.

“
I’ll kill him.”

She looked up in surprise. His green eyes
were ablaze with an unknown emotion, one that struck terror in her
heart; it was a wild, feral look that she was sure didn’t belong on
a human. His teeth were bared in a way that made her heart pound,
and his rage was almost palpable.

“
What?” she whispered, her mouth
dry.

“
I’ll fucking kill the bastard that
did this to you,” he growled, so low that she could barely
understand his words.

The tone of his voice terrified her, but his
threat didn’t. She didn’t want her stepfather dead, but at the same
time, she probably wouldn’t be too bent out of shape if it
happened. “Why?” she asked hesitantly. “Why would you help me? I’m
nobody.”

The growl he gave her was fierce, and then he
moved, pulling himself up the couch until he was completely on top
of her, covering her body with his; she felt consumed, sheltered.
His arms landed on either side of her, locking her in, and then his
hips were pressed against hers. A hard bulge pushed into her thigh.
He was hard, a full erection. Her eyes widened and her breathing
grew shallow.

“
Nobody
touches you,” he said quietly, and she got
the distinct impression that this was not the usual Gareth. There
was something dangerous about him, something untamed and
uncontrollable. The wolf inside? She couldn’t be sure, but the
feeling of power coming off of him was intoxicating. She reached up
and touched his bulging arms — looked into his eyes.

“
Why?” she whispered again.