Wild Nights (6 page)

changed into a wolf right before my eyes.”

“How did you react?” Lenox kept his voice low, warmth woven in

his words.

“My memory of the moments immediately following the

transformation are still muddled, but I’m sure I was pretty confused. I

recall wondering if I was crazy. Then I got to thinking that if Charles

was a wolf, maybe I was, too. It might not be such a bad thing.”

“You took to the idea of being a wolf quite well, considering you

hadn’t been raised in the traditional manner or atmosphere,” Lenox

said. He leaned over the arm of the chair. Despite his calm front, he

was as alert as a sharpshooter with his target in sight. His casual

appearance belied his true nature. If she were not a wolf, she would

easily miss the predator lying beneath his laidback approach. No.

Lenox Carter was a master of disguising his true state, and she had

only grazed the surface of him.

The moonlight pouring through the living room windows reflected

off the lenses of his eyes in a prism of color. The wolf hovered just

out of sight, but he made himself known to her. She could almost feel

soft fur brush over her sensitive skin and the gentle prod of a cool

nose against her mind.

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39

Her wolf reached out for Lenox, coaxing him to come to her.

“How did you cope with being a wolf and face normal people on a

daily basis?” Lenox asked. He leaned closer, cupping her cheek with

his unoccupied hand. She shamelessly nuzzled her face against his

rough palm. With every shift of his eyes, Aya caught a different

rainbow of glassy color. Two rebel waves of dark hair fell over his

eyes, further casting him beneath an ethereal glow that wet her palate

on several different levels of hunger.

“I didn’t have to face people. Charles was overprotective, and

that’s an understatement. I didn’t attend public school. I didn’t

participate in sports. I didn’t go out with friends because I had none.”

Aya shrugged, closing her eyes and soaking in the heat emanating

from Lenox’s firm skin. He curled his fingers beneath hers and lifted

her hand to his lips. Currents seared down her arm, her torso, and

sizzled in her womb. “Charles hired the best tutors. They’d come to

the house to teach me throughout my school years. He brought me

hiking in the forest surrounding our home as a source of exercise

when I was younger. Once in a while, we’d camp out and he’d tell me

about my parents.”

“He told you they were murdered?”

“Yes, but he never went into detail or told me why.” Aya lifted

her gaze to Lenox. “You made it pretty clear you know more about

what happened than I do.”

“Did Charles ever tell you why he was overprotective?”

“All he ever said was that I was special. There were people in the

world that would do great harm to me if I was ever discovered.”

“At least he told you that,” Lenox muttered. The sensual lull

released her heavy eyelids of their vise, allowing her to peel them

back completely. The cool predator she sensed in him paced below

his surface. His muscles tensed, a subtle motion she absorbed through

his fingertips. “The night your parents were killed is as clear a

memory as if it happened yesterday.”

She narrowed her gaze. “How can you remember it so clearly?

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Rhea Regale

You can’t be much older than me.”

“Once you connect with your wolf, your aging process slows

tremendously. I was twenty-six when the massacre happened.”

She glanced over him quickly. She was hot for a fifty-somethingyear-old god? Hell, she could live with this, especially if it meant

more time enjoying her younger years. The aging process, or lack of,

also explained why her uncle barely looked a day over thirty-five. He

had never disclosed his true age to her.

“Charles was in his eighties,” Lenox answered.

“You can read my mind.” Aya shifted on the sofa. Lenox moved

closer to the sofa, allowing her to lean more heavily into his hand.

“Charles never taught you to censor your thoughts?” Lenox’s chin

lifted a notch. Displeasure tightened his jaw. “Of all things
not
to

teach you.”

“Maybe I never had to worry because I was isolated.”

“That’s no excuse. In fact, that’s more dangerous than throwing

you out in the world without knowing you’re a white.” He reached up

and traced a stubborn wisp of hair with a single finger that had caught

on her lashes.
“But at least you know how to speak telepathically. It’s

an important means of communication between packs when rebels are

within range. We use it often.”

A pleasant chill curled down her spine as the deep, throaty rumble

of Lenox’s rich voice poured through her mind. It coated her like a

thick blanket of warm honey, spreading down her neck, her shoulders

and arms, her body, until it reached her toes. Not even the unsettled

air infiltrated the barrier around her. The vents overhead carried the

sensual spice of his cologne straight to her nose, melting her insides.

He was burned into her memory with an iron brand. Looking at him,

admiring his fierceness beneath the cloak of calm, she knew if

anything ever took him away from her, she would be devastated.

Not even a full day had passed and she had already begun to forge

an irreversible bond with a stranger.

“Nothing will happen to us. Any of us,” he reassured.

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41

“Any of us?” The silent knowledge he withheld in that simple

sentence brought her upright. Lenox took a deep breath; she saw it in

the way his chest expanded. Tension mounted. She watched the swift

turmoil play across his eyes. Something about this bothered him

deeply, and she wanted to know what it was.

She wanted to know what exactly he meant by “any” of them.

“You read the letter. You’re aware you have a mate,” Lenox said.

His words were drawn and cautious, as if he played a game of

Scrabble in his head. She observed him, honing all of her senses on

his reactions. “A spiritually appointed mate who has been fated to

you. Actually, two mates, to be correct.”

“What?” Her heart thumped erratically. She shook her head,

steadying her vision and her pumping blood until rational thoughts

replaced the absurdity… “There’s only one. You’re the only one

Charles mentioned. What are you talking about?”

“Aya, no need to get worked up over it. Trust me, it’s natural.”

“
Two
men is natural?” She let out a sharp laugh, but a wicked

vision of Lenox and another man tending to her lustful aches and

desires… God, her pussy throbbed as her arousal wetted the inside of

her thighs. Two men? The idea actually
appeased
her.

“Yes. Two. Whites are appointed two mates for good reason.

First, it strengthens liaisons between packs. It builds a strong bond

between other wolves that may have gone astray. Second, it provides

the protection needed to keep you safe from harm. Your uncle was

right when he said there are people who won’t stop until you’re dead.

That’s what ignited the massacre that took your parents, your aunts

and uncles, in a vicious bloodbath of murder.”

Aya stilled, her gaze locking with Lenox. Her stomach churned.

Her skin crawled. The moonlight dwindled behind a cloud, casting the

living room in an ominous shadow. Lust stepped aside and the secrets

of the night embraced her.

“Twenty-five years ago marked a devastating blow to the wolf

community. Packs of rebels stole into Hood River, a quaint little area

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Rhea Regale

in northern Oregon. They plowed through homes and businesses

during the night, slaughtering any wolf that may have protected the

sacred whites.

“There were three families. The Smiths, the Whites, and the

Joneses. I remember the Smith woman still pregnant on that night.

She was murdered, along with her husband. I learned only a few

weeks ago that Jacob Smith must’ve saved the baby. She is now with

her mates in Hood River. The Jones woman had two children, both of

which I can’t be sure survived. One was a little girl, no older than you

had been, and she was a white. The other was a little boy, who I

believe had been killed.”

A knot formed at the base of her throat. The more she tried to

swallow it down, the more it became lodged, cutting off the air she

tried to suck in.

“Me?” she whispered.

“Charles was a smart man, Aya. He hid you on the outskirts of

town in a cave.”

“The wolves couldn’t trace my scent?”

The hard thudding of her heart reverberated in her skull, making

her dizzy. She knew Lenox was about to open a door that would

change her life forever. The simplicity she’d known for twenty-six

years was about to be shredded in light of the truth. A flash of

sympathy shot through his eyes, confirming he knew just what she

was thinking.

“Charles had the insight to disguise your scent. He was always

prepared for anything. I remember asking him on numerous occasions

why he kept dozens of animal carcasses stashed away in a freezer on

his back porch.”

Her nostrils twitched. The little food she had consumed earlier

threatened to purge her system. Lenox’s eyes scrutinized her

expression while his wolf caressed her mind, surely sensing her

unease.

“The night the wolves attacked, your uncle took you from your

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43

parents. He used those dead animals to mask your sweet scent beneath

the foul odor of decay. The man traced back and forth between his

house and your hiding spot, carrying carcasses to wash away any

lingering trail leading to you.” Lenox’s grip on her hand tightened,

pulling her out of the vision he was drawing for her. “He rubbed you

with those same animals, deterring any curious wolves from finding

you. You were nothing more than a dead, rotten piece of meat.

Extremely unappetizing to a hunter.”

Swallow it down. Don’t let it get to you. He saved your life with

clever wit.

Still, the images of being rubbed with rotten carcasses squeezed

bile to the back of her throat. Warmth washed over her face, and

weakness spread down her legs. A thin sheen of sweat suddenly

coated her skin.

“I-I never knew about any of that,” Aya murmured, wiping the

dampness from her forehead. Lenox climbed to his feet and

disappeared into the kitchen, leaving her to mull in the putrid facts

that had kept her alive. Charles had always been smart, always so in

tune with the things around him. He had a knack for preparing for the

worst.

And still you sacrificed yourself when you could’ve come with me.

Aya couldn’t repress the shudder that preceded a flare of chills.

She hugged herself, yearning for Lenox to return and provide warmth.

From the kitchen, there was a series of rattles and a soft smack. A

drawer opened, closed. A quiet snap echoed along the open floor plan.

Sharp sounds that her thoughts muffled behind disbelief.

Lenox returned, carrying two beers. He didn’t return to the chair.

Instead, he took up the seat next to her and held out a bottle.

“It’ll help calm your stomach,” he assured. Aya eyed him

skeptically before accepting the drink. She watched him take a long

swig from his bottle. There was something erotic about the sight of

him swallowing. The way his throat rolled and his cheeks hollowed.

The way his lips pursed around the opening of the bottle. Those lips,

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Rhea Regale

she recalled, so warm and soft and sensual.

Aya took a small sip of the cold drink. The carbonation made her

eyes tear and her jaw tighten. As the liquid slid down her throat, the

bubbles seemed to infuse calm through the tension that had settled in

her shoulders. She sank into the sofa and rested the bottle on her knee.

“Thanks,” she said. Her eyes drifted down his solid chest and

landed on his lap. There was no denying
his
arousal. Her brow

wrinkled.
Must be painful pressed against jeans with no resistance
.

“Would you like me to answer your curiosity? Or would you

rather ponder the extent of my discomfort?”
Lenox’s voice filled her

mind and made blood rush over her face. Her attention shot up to his

face. He lowered the longneck from his lips and rested it on the coffee

table. She tossed up barriers around her thoughts as he reclined and

turned the full power of his smoky gaze upon her. Only then did she

realize how flimsy the film protecting her thoughts truly was. She

could feel the hot essence of his spirit sliding along the contours of

her own, never touching but sure as hell making her quiver. It riled

her wolf.
“Come here.”

“I’m close to you.” She guessed the short distance between them

to be less than two feet.
Two feet too far
. His beckoning rumble teased

her, and she
wanted
to go to him.