Mated to the Wolf (4 page)

Anger shimmered inside her. “Like I’m a damned science experiment. Then study this, hotshot.”

Samantha opened her mouth and breathed fire straight at him. Grayson held up a hand. Flames hit his palm, shot straight into the water and were doused.

She stared, fascinated and a little afraid. Ancients were unknowns to her, and this Ancient had enormous powers she could barely fathom.

“Thanks for heating the water. It was getting slightly chilled.” He wagged his brows.

That irascible sense of humor finally broke her rigidity. Samantha opened her mouth again to release peals of laughter. When she stopped, Grayson nodded.

“I like that sound of that. And the smell of your laughter makes your scent flare. It’s delectable.”

Samantha’s breath caught. Silver droplets clung to the dark hairs on his firm chest. One beaded on the brown circle of his left nipple. She longed to taste it, run her mouth over his skin, startle him out of self-possession.

“You know so much about me. What about you? This is your home, but don’t you run with a pack like other weres?”

Like a steel grate dropping, his expression shuttered. Grayson stared out at the window at the stretch of lonely field. “I live alone, run alone.”

“Those shifters at the bar, they said things about you being a lone wolf. You have no family? What about friends?”

Tension made his skin stretch tightly over his cheekbones. The scar flared into white. “You ask too many questions.”

“Not for someone you expect to mate,” she observed. “That means sharing a life together and how can I share a life with a complete stranger? I don’t even know where we are. Or your birthday. How old are you? Do you have any brothers or sisters? What about your parents?”

“A small town near Estes Park, Colorado. September 2. I’m 2,300 years old. My parents are dead to me and so are all my siblings.”

He stood, water droplets cascading down his firm chest, splashing into the tub. His limbs were strong, his skin golden brown and taut over bone and muscle. Damp heat from the water had curled the ends of his black hair. She suddenly yearned to run her fingers through the strands, her tongue wanted to taste the texture and warmth of his skin.

When he crouched down, and brushed a kiss beneath the hollow of her ear, she became immobilized. Grayson squeezed her shoulder, rubbed gently. “Enjoy your bath, Samantha. You need to relax.”

As he donned his robe, she blinked, astonished. He was leaving? After sharing a bath with her, she’d expected seduction. Not this guarded look. Maybe she’d probed too deeply.

“The guest bedroom is ready for you. There’s no fireplace, but plenty of warm blankets. I turn the heat off because it gets too stifling. I bought you new clothing and it’s in the dresser. Good night.”

“Grayson?” As he turned at the door, she hesitated. Samantha licked dry lips. “What kind of deadline am I facing? I mean, before the Society sends the Hunters after me?”

“Tomorrow. But I told you, Samantha, I won’t force you. When you’re ready, you will come to me.”

The water grew colder. Realizing her skin was pruning, she stepped out of the tub and dried her body. The hardwood floor was cold beneath her bare feet and she ran into the smaller bedroom she had passed earlier.

It was equipped with more pine furniture and a sizable bed piled with quilts. A flannel nightgown was atop the quilts. It spilled past her ankles as she shrugged into it.

Then she explored her prison, sliding past the partly opened door of his bedroom. In the living room was a desk and a laptop. She powered up the computer, searched the files. Grayson was an online investment banker. He’d done very well for his clients and had enough money to buy the state of Colorado.

She found an email from the Society detailing the assignment to capture her, and a photo. But nothing personal. No emails from friends, evites, links to groups or interests. No Facebook page, either. Closing the laptop, she scanned the living room. No photos of family, a girlfriend, no items cluttering the shelves. The living room was as impersonal as a rental.

In one corner was a locked cabinet. Samantha summoned her powers, touched the door. It opened with a soft snick. Her eyes widened as she examined the cache of weaponry. Rifles, shotguns, handguns, and a wicked-looking crossbow with silver-tipped arrows. Her hand trembling, she closed the door. Obviously he took his job as a Hunter very seriously.

How many lives had he claimed? Hunters weren’t discriminatory. Many liked to torture their victims before bringing them in for the bounty. Yet she didn’t sense Grayson harbored that streak of cruelty. He could have forced himself on her, but didn’t. He’d been nothing but gentle and considerate.

She wandered to a built-in bookshelf, thumbed through a few titles. Here was the real Grayson. Fiction. Nonfiction. And volumes of poetry, the books showing signs of being read time and again.

The wolf had a soft spot for Lord Bryon. She smiled softly at the thought of the powerful Ancient reading love poetry. So incongruous with his rough exterior. At least she’d discovered something about him.

A scrap of paper fell out of the tome. Samantha picked it up and read the rough handwriting. A poem, or an attempt of one.

Silence falls, soft like snow, sharp as glass

Echoing through the forest, distant howls of Pack

Memories are precious

Family no more

I sit alone, in the acid silence

A lump clogged her throat. She knew that kind of aloneness, when the cold settled into your bones and the night dragged on forever. When the rest of the world was a circle and you stood on the outside.

“What happened to you,” she whispered. Demon instincts surged, warning her to back off this long and winding road. She had to think of herself first and escape. Wind howled at the windows as she replaced the book. Samantha rubbed her chilled arms, shivering as she thought of running out into the cold.

If she left, the other Hunters would find her. Grayson said her only option was making love with him. A convenient lie or the truth?

Lying made no sense. He could easily have forced her if his only goal was lying between her legs. Remembering his touch, she quivered. Her breasts felt heavy, their nipples hard as pearls, her loins full at the thought of his big, powerful body covering hers, his thick cock pushing into her aching pussy. She wanted him, but couldn’t surrender to desire. Nothing must detract from her quest.

When Grayson was fast asleep, she’d run. No Hunter could capture her, not even a pack of them.

Not if she let the demon consume her and fully take over. For months, she’d struggled to hold him back.

Tonight, after she rested a while, it was time to fully unleash the darkness inside her.

Grayson lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with a small smile. Breathing fire. That was a new talent the Society hadn’t recorded yet. With her lithe body and strong will, Samantha intrigued him. That defiant attitude and courage only increased his desire. She was the type of strong, independent mate he’d always longed for.

His smile fled. The kind of mate he could wholly share himself with. He craved the intimate closeness. But it was too dangerous. Those questions, they’d stung like hot needles. She had dug in deep, but it wasn’t her darkness, just ordinary curiosity.

He had his own inner darkness to fight, and didn’t dare let Samantha draw close. Share himself and she’d learn the ugly truth. No, best never to be that vulnerable to another. Not with his pack, or with his future mate.

A dull ache thudded in his chest. Grayson ran a hand over his face and the stark reminder of betrayal. Some wounds taught a valuable lesson.
The only person you can rely on is yourself.

The hot bathwater had brought a rosy flush to her soft skin. He’d longed to taste her, run his hands over her body and absorb all that softness. Being naked with her in the tub had tested the depths of restraint. He’d wanted to draw her into his arms, kiss her senseless. Then hoist her out of the water, lay her back on the tile and open her thighs wide.

Put his mouth between her legs, drowning himself in her scent as she cried out in ecstasy. Then slowly, so slowly, thrust into her tight virginal passage and seal them together in the flesh.

To get her into bed, he had to break down her defenses. Get her accustomed to his touch. She’d been without male contact, shunned it. The bathtub episode was deliberate, a slow, delicate dance of what they both knew was inevitable.

Grayson gritted his teeth. This constant state of arousal was hell. He slid a fist over his throbbing cock, envisioning Samantha’s sweet face, her heart-shaped ass, her full, plump breasts, their top halves showing above the froth of bubbles.

A few strokes would take care of things. Hell, not now, when the real thing lay in the next room. Instead, he leapt out of bed. Naked he padded down the hallway, opened the guest bedroom door. Beneath a pile of quilts, Samantha lay fast asleep. Her mouth parted slightly, she looked angelic and sweet. Desire punched him hard. Grayson softly closed her door and went to the sunporch overlooking the meadow.

Clouds scudded across the sky, blotting out light from the nickel-sized moon. The rain had stopped, but a fierce wind stung his body as he stepped outside. He gave a long stretch, the cold sinking deep into his bones. Closing his eyes, he called forth his beast.

Fur erupted on his skin as his bones lengthened. Grayson howled with the pleasure-pain of the transformation. He was wolf, strong, free and wild. Swaying on all fours, he rocked with the wind, protected from the cold by thick fur. He loped toward the forest, his paws crunching over the frosty grasses. Only as wolf could he escape the past, push away the loneliness snapping at his heels.

He ran through the woods, trying to eliminate the deep hunger he had for his mate. Snapping at the wind, he leapt into the air.

A while later, his lust banked as the moon shone bright, he started back for the house. At the forest’s edge, Grayson went still as a delicate scent rode the wind.

Moonlight splashed over the darkened cabin, glinted off a cap of shining white-blond hair. Samantha. His ears pricked forward as his nostrils flared. There, a shadow among shadows in a splash of gray moonlight.

In the wake of the storm, the temperature had dropped. In her worn sweater and jeans, she couldn’t last long before hypothermia set in. Then again, her considerable talent at making fire could come in handy. The wolf bared teeth in a canine grin as Grayson padded quietly through the frozen meadow. Strong white and red striations threaded through the dull black of her aura. He sensed her darkness struggling to take over the white light inside her. Her angelic side had a surprising ally—a powerful sexual need pulsing like a lighthouse beacon. The red hadn’t been there when he’d caught her.

It only awakened when they were alone together in his cabin.

Grayson trotted a discreet distance behind her. Now he understood why it was so important to become her lover. Another male with less honorable intentions might take her sensuality and use it against her. Then the fear that brought her demon raging to the surface would overcome her and she’d be lost to the white light.

Samantha had barely reached the end of his long drive when he caught up to her. Before he could shift back, she turned and saw him. Mirrored in her expression was sheer terror. He imagined what she saw…a monstrous wolf with jaws like a steel bear trap, a muscled body that outweighed her times two.

“Get away from me.” She backed away, fear etching her face.

Oh shit, fear was not a good thing
. The demon liked fear, ate it for supper and grew stronger.

Flame red glowed in her eyes. Talon erupted from her fingers as her skin grew gray and mottled. A mouthful of serrated teeth showed as she snarled at him.

Shifting back would put him at a disadvantage. Trying to connect to her telepathically, he found her mind clouded with darkness. Grayson kept trying as her body elongated and shifted into a demoness. She raced forward and attacked.

A talon raked through his thick fur in a hot, burning slice. Grayson danced out of range, then swayed on all fours as his mind fogged. Focusing his powers, he muted the agony, and shifted.

The wound was already healing, but hot acid from the venom in her talon raced through his veins. He gritted his teeth against the pain and faced the demonized Samantha, as she raised her talons to strike again. Grayson concentrated his magick to shield against her powers and tackled her to the ground. Naked, he pinned the screaming, writhing demoness. No colors showed in her aura. His fear that he’d lost her for good distracted him from seeing that she’d managed to free her right hand.

He felt his face burn hotly as she raked her talons across his good cheek. The pain was exquisite, making him double over. Nausea tightened his stomach, but he struggled to keep a grip on her, lassoing both wrists with his left hand.

Blood from his injuries dripped onto her snarling face as he placed a soothing palm on her forehead. “Easy now, Samantha. Calm down. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Slowly she blinked, the red fading from her eyes. Horror shone there instead as she stared at the furrows on his cheek.

“Grayson? Oh dear gods, did I do that?”

Even as she stared, the wounds began to heal, but the pain still heated his body like a white-hot whip. He struggled to take a breath, and then another. He managed a wry smile. “Hell hath no fury like Samantha in demon form.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes. “I didn’t want to hurt you, but I was so afraid, like the cowboy at the bar, I didn’t want to hurt you…”

She touched his injured cheek, glimmering light pulsing from her fingers. The pain inside him slowly eased. The relief was so sharp, he hauled in a dizzying breath.

As the white light faded from her touch, the cruel features faded, replaced by a pretty, heart-shaped face and confused blue eyes. Devoid of strength, Samantha shivered violently.