Changed: 2 (Wolf's Den) (6 page)

“That was nice,” she sighed, her tone one of bliss and
satiation. “Hmm.”

Then—before he could blink—her emotions shifted.

Since he was staring at her face he saw her tension before
he smelled it. Her vaginal walls flexed around his finger, her lips parting in
horror as her eyes flew open. Most of the time terror fed the wolf, making it
stronger. In this case Rachel managed to overpower her newly created beast,
thrusting it into the corner.

“Oh no.” Embarrassment laced the words that echoed in his
ears. “Oh God!”

She’s confused and afraid. Do this right. Don’t fuck up.

With regret he pulled his finger from the satiny walls that
gripped him, reminding himself that his female needed to be seduced and not
forced. He slid his hand from her panties, already sensing her physical and
emotional withdrawal. Good thing he’d listened to his instincts. If he’d
claimed her she would have hated him for it. He had to prove himself and show
her why he was a worthy male and mate.

“We’ll drive to your place and get your things,” he said,
quickly moving from the bed. If he didn’t, he didn’t think he’d be able to put
a lid on his urges. “I want you to be comfortable here.”

“What?” It hurt, watching her scramble away after what
they’d shared. “I’m not staying here. I told you that.”

Patience was a virtue he sorely lacked.
Damn it.

“Just Rachel,” he taunted, drawing out the endearment. If
he’d learned anything during their time together it was that she hated being
goaded. “You
are
staying here. You might despise the sight of me but
you’ll get used to it. I’m not leaving you alone to face what’s coming. Like it
or not this is your home.” Taking a step closer, he attempted to provoke her
further. “Get used to it, sunshine. You’re stuck with me.”

She opened her mouth to argue, fire flashing in her morning
blue eyes. After a moment’s hesitation he brought his finger to his mouth,
slipping it between his lips. Her flavor burst on his tongue, sweet and spicy.
Closing his eyes, he savored the first taste of his mate. He’d shocked her but
it was worth it. She needed to understand he wasn’t going anywhere. He opened
his eyes and their gazes locked. He smelled her newfound arousal, could see it
in the way her irises lightened near her pupils. In a few days—when the full
moon arrived—she’d be unable to deny him.

A small comfort but a comfort nonetheless.

“I…uh…” She quickly averted her gaze, staring at the floor.

He removed his finger, running his tongue over his lip.
Already her taste was fading but he’d never forget it, able to recall it from
memory. A part of her belonged to him even if she wasn’t fully aware of it.
They’d crossed an enormous obstacle, obliterating a wall that had stood too
long between them. She’d given herself over, asking for his touch. Living with
him she’d eventually want more. One by one he was determined to eradicate each
barrier, to get beneath her skin in the same way she’d gotten beneath his.

Starting now.

“One door leads to the bathroom, the other is the closet.
You saw where I came in, so I’m guessing you know which way is out.” Regretful
and aching himself, he drew back, watching her with each step he took away.
“Most of my things won’t fit but you’re welcome to anything I have. I’ll give
you some time to get dressed. When you’re ready come find me.”

Then—before she could entice him to say to fuck with it and
ravish her silly—he opened the door, stepped outside and closed it behind him.

You’re a nothing but a jezebel, might as well put on a
red light.

Rachel’s gaze darted to Declan, just as it had many times
since they’d climbed into his large SUV. The image of him licking his finger
shot through her head. As always, warmth accompanied the visual, spreading over
her like melted butter. If he’d ditched his shirt and joined her in bed, she
could have felt those lips against her skin. His touch had been confident and
expert, giving her pleasure in seconds. She’d never climaxed so quickly, riding
on adrenaline and need.

“Just Rachel?” Declan purred, looking at her. His irises
were amber-hued, his lips curved in a sensual grin. “What are you thinking
about?”

“Politics and world hunger,” she snapped, ripping her eyes
from him.

What was it about him? How in the hell did he always manage
to know what she was thinking? Even worse, how had he managed to worm beneath
her skin? Was Chloe right? Was this meant to be from the start? Were there more
than hormones involved? It wasn’t all due to the fact she was changing, was it?

Changing. Oh God.

She wanted to reach for her shoulder but didn’t. She didn’t
need another reminder of what was taking place inside her. When she’d inspected
where she’d been bitten and seen the skin had mended, leaving behind scabby
scratches, she’d nearly had a panic attack. Humans didn’t heal that quickly.
Not after such a serious injury. But she wasn’t human. Not anymore.

Stop. Just stop.

In the last hour she’d tried not to think about it. There
was too much involved. She’d avoided supernatural things but Chloe’s
interest—which she understood once Chloe had changed—meant she’d heard stories.
Did they really rip off their clothes and go running through the woods during
full moons? How about eating animals? What if her mother had been right and
they ate children too? She was sure Chloe wouldn’t do something like that,
having been raised human and all. No way. She’d die first.

You should have asked her. Chloe would have answered
every question.

Weight settled over her thigh, tearing her from her panic.
She looked down, focusing on the hand Declan had placed on her leg. Heat
radiated from the touch, seeping past the thin cotton sweats she’d tossed on.
He’d been right, the garment didn’t fit. She’d had to roll the legs and waist up
just to walk. She could feel each of his fingers, identify the flat plane of
his palm. Not too long ago she’d ridden that hand, using it to send her
spinning. It had felt so good too, like coming home.

Tingles swept over her skin, a hazy shade of red covering
her vision. If she hadn’t stopped him—if she hadn’t freaked out like an idiot
novice—she could have had him on top of her, his body bearing hers into the
bed. If she hadn’t seen Chloe and Jackson in the living room, she might have
been tempted to do something else. After all, Declan was the ultimate eye
candy. Just one lick wouldn’t take her to his delicious, sweet center.

What’s wrong with me?
She closed her eyes, trying to
stop thinking about sex. She hadn’t been this horny since she’d decided to see
what the fuss was about. To her surprise it wasn’t all that great. Just another
thing the movies got wrong.
It has to be a werewolf thing. What am I turning
into?

“Easy, sweet girl,” he whispered, giving her thigh a
squeeze. “It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” Why was it so hard to breathe? Should the
world be spinning? Her stomach lurched, nausea building in her abdomen. “I’m
going to be sick.”

To her credit, she managed to get out of the car when Declan
pulled over. She bent down, staring at the concrete as she gagged. Her stomach
was empty due to the fact she hadn’t eaten the day before. A good thing
considering she’d have decorated the road with her waste. Each heave made her
want to fold in on herself, mortification sweeping through her when Declan
rushed to her side. She righted herself, swiping at her mouth. Thankfully she
hadn’t really thrown up anything but her pride.

Amen for skipping dinner and breakfast.

“Let it out,” he said, a considerable amount of
understanding in his voice. Touching her shoulder, he continued, “If you want
to vomit, yell and scream then do it. I won’t let anything hurt you. Do what
you need to do. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

The world spun, everything becoming blurred.

A horrible sound ricocheted through her skull. It took a second
for her to comprehend the scream was coming from her, loud and outraged. All
her life she’d been given the short end of the stick, losing what she cared for
most, tossed the scraps others didn’t want. She’d been fine with that because
it was the only life she knew.

Familiar she could handle but not the unknown.

“I’m not changing!” she shouted, slapping at his hand. “I
won’t let myself.”

“That’s right,” he repeated and closed the distance between
them. “Let it out.”

This time she was prepared, accepting she’d lost it as she
released another throaty cry. Strangely it did feel good, like she’d finally
managed to come to terms on some basic level with her predicament. Before it
had been easy to pretend it wasn’t real, a small sliver of her mind wanting to believe
she’d been dreaming. Not so much now, with the cold autumn wind seeping into
her clothing and whipping around her face.

She took in her surroundings, painfully aware of herself.

If there was one rule she lived by it was never to let
anyone see how much they’d affected you. Emotions were weapons. In the wrong
hands they could be deadly. They’d stopped on a public road—parked right next
to businesses and bars—but no one ventured out to see what was going on. In
Atrum Hill a scream could mean a lot of things and not all of them were bad. If
they were closer to her home humans would have come running.

“Oh no,” she whispered, panting as she gazed up at Declan.
“I
am
changing.”

She didn’t fight when he swept her into his embrace, a hand
wrapped around her waist, another bringing her face to his chest. The tears
that cascaded down her face were accompanied by silence, her habit of crying
quietly coming in handy. As close as he was he could feel her trembling but
there wasn’t much she could do about that. Deep down something else had
stirred, rising in response to her despair. It replaced her fear with courage,
setting fire to the rain.

Suddenly she became aware of Declan in another way. He was
so warm, blocking out the bite of the air. Her nose attuned to his scent, the
glorious fragrance washing over her. It didn’t amp her desire but somehow acted
like a balm, soothing her nerves. He’d offered her his leather coat earlier but
she’d not put it on. That left him in a plain black T-shirt and blue jeans, his
arms bare. Her gaze darted over his inked skin and she noticed names worked
into the design at his forearm.

“Who are they?” she whispered, hating how scratchy her voice
sounded.

“Hmm?” He didn’t let go but angled his head to peer down.

Bringing her fingers to the tattooed skin, she touched his
arm. “Ivy, Kellan and Gage.”

“My mother, father and sister.”

“You have a family?” The instant she blurted the question—as
soon as she heard herself ask it—she wanted to take it back. Talk about the
ultimate insult. He obviously wasn’t conceived by Immaculate Conception.

“Of course I have a family.” Instead of sounding angry, he
seemed pleased. He stroked her hair, meeting her gaze. His eyes were dark, more
brown than gold. “You’ll love them and they’ll love you.”

Love them? She hadn’t even considered there was a family to
meet. What would they think about their son mating? Would they be happy or
upset? A sharp stab speared through her chest. She wasn’t a werewolf—not yet.
How would they feel about welcoming a bitten person into the family? Was such a
thing taboo? In the human world prejudice existed. Did it in the werewolf one
too? Would they even want her at all? What if they didn’t like her? She didn’t
put herself in a position of being rejected for that very reason. It was easy
to be dismissive and not give a shit when you didn’t take chances with people.

Since she wasn’t comfortable with talking about that aspect
of things she redirected the conversation. “Gage is a boy name.”

“Do me a favor.” The smile he gave her made her knees weak.
“Don’t tell Gage that.”

This she could do.
This
was familiar.

“Why not?” she asked, grateful for the way they eased into a
playful banter. “Do you think she’ll hurt me? I thought you said you wouldn’t
let that happen.”

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you,” he murmured, moving his
arm from the back of her head. He swept the backs of his knuckles over her
cheek. “Never, Rachel.”

“Never is a long time.” It was supposed to be a joke but it
came out as a stark reality. Time wasn’t her enemy anymore. She didn’t have to
worry about old age, arthritis or cancer. She wasn’t susceptible to those
things anymore.

“You have questions.” It wasn’t an observation but a
statement of fact. “Ask them.”

Her heart raced, the fear of what she didn’t understand
suffocating her. Unable to look him in the eye, she lowered her gaze and asked,
“Where does your family live?” It wasn’t even close to one of the questions she
wanted to ask but it was a start.

“Not far, just a few hundred miles away in Northridge.” He
turned his hand, palming her face. She didn’t want to meet his eyes but he
forced her to, waiting until their eyes met to say, “Now ask me the questions
you’re afraid to. You’ll stay terrified if you don’t. It’s understandable but
avoidable at this point. There’s no reason for you to be scared. Not anymore.”

“Do werewolves eat children?” She winced at the accusation
in her tone. Now she sounded like a terrified child recanting the horror
stories of her youth. “I mean,” she tried to explain, “I’ve
heard
you
do. I’m not
saying
you do.”

“Sunshine, no offense,” he sounded good-humored as always,
curiosity shining in his eyes, “but that’s probably the stupidest question I’ve
ever been asked.” She gritted her teeth, embarrassed yet again. He tempered her
anger with another gentle touch. “No, we don’t eat children. What other
nonsense have you heard?”

A better question would be what nonsense hadn’t she heard.
When her mother was good and smashed she took joy in sharing horror stories.
Once Rachel assumed it was to keep her informed so she’d stay safe. As she’d
gotten older she’d questioned her mother’s motives. It didn’t make sense,
really. Not when her mom didn’t seem to care about the dangers of bringing
strange men to their home.

“It doesn’t matter,” she confessed, humiliated at her lack
of true knowledge, “it’s probably all a lie anyway.”

“If it scares you then it most definitely fucking matters,”
he corrected, an edge of anger appearing in his voice. “I won’t have you
frightened. Not when there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Do you have any idea how terrifying it is to know I’m going
to turn into a wolf?” Maybe she should have kept it to herself but the idea did
frighten her—the mere thought of her body changing like that—more and more with
each passing second. “I’m not like you. Have you thought about that? Chloe told
me the first time could have been horrible if it weren’t for Jackson and she’s
half of what you are. What do you think it’ll be like for me? Let me clue you
in. I’m pretty sure it’ll be pure misery. And what if…” She didn’t want to say
it but she had to, she’d already opened the door to the barn, freeing all the
creatures inside. “What if it kills me? I’ve seen the news. Iknow that
humans have been bitten, gone to hospitals and didn’t make it out alive.”

“I’m not going to lie to you.” He didn’t falter, staring her
down. “There have been humans who have died under rare circumstances. It
doesn’t happen often. The people you heard about on the news went to human
doctors for human medicine. We don’t work that way. I can’t describe it to you
but soon you’ll feel it. The connection of the pack makes sure changed members
find their way.” His faced softened, his eyes changing color, shifting from
brown to amber. “That’s one reason I’d like to get to know you. If you accept
me—if you’ll let me claim you before the full moon—there’s no chance anything
will happen to you.”

“How do you know that?” It wasn’t like he’d mated before…or
had he? “Have you done this before?”
Ouch
. She sounded jealous, like a
shrilling wife who’d found out her husband had another woman on the side.

“No, I’ve never done this before. I’ve never felt this way
about anyone in my life but you, Rachel.” He tugged her closer, his breath
whispering over her lips. “And I know because we’ll be connected on the deepest
level imaginable. I can’t tell you from personal experience, only from what
I’ve seen and been told.” His gaze rested on her mouth. “I know I didn’t treat
you as I should’ve the first time we met. I thought with the wrong head, even
though it’s no excuse.”

“You were an ass.” And inwardly she’d loved that about him.
He didn’t waste time with idle threats. He’d told her as much. The man—love or
hate him—was who he was. “I’m not sure I should forgive you.”

His lips inched closer to hers. “Then give me another
chance. That’s all I’m asking for.”

“You’re going to kiss me now, aren’t you?” The idea suited
her fine. Right now she wanted to kiss him and feel alive, viewing her future
as a possibility and not a death sentence.

“Only if you ask me to,” he murmured, his gaze locked on her
lips.

Bringing her hands up, she rested her palms on his
shoulders. He was so much taller and broader than her, the outline of his
muscles clear beneath his shirt. With all that strength he could cause her
serious harm yet he’d only been careful with her, mindful of how frail she was
in comparison. Human men were known to be far less considerate. In fact,
nestled as they were, she remembered how much she’d wanted to have this kind of
feeling, aching for it as a teen who only viewed it from afar. Now she didn’t
have to be on the outside looking in.