Sorcha's Wolf (5 page)

His father had always told him that.

Alex heard glass shatter from the direction of the truck at the same time as he scented an intruder on the air. A shout from the distance—Sorcha’s cry—had his heart contracting painfully in his chest. He froze, listening for anything more. After a second, he heard a man’s voice. Anger shuddered through him.

No one touched his witch.

No one.

 
Chapter Five

Sorcha had just been about ready to leave the SUV and face the danger of Alex licking her again when she’d glanced through the front windshield and had frozen. Two men, or two…immortals had stood facing her. Both had had her in their sights and the looks they’d worn hadn’t been pleasant. They’d looked hungry.

She’d locked the SUV door and had scooted to the front to lock those as well when the window near her had shattered and rained glass down on her. Someone had gripped her sweater and before she had been able to do more than scream once, they’d pulled her out of the truck. She’d stumbled, but had managed to turn and swing her fist. She’d connected with something fleshy, but the next instant, a fist that had felt like iron had hit her in the temple. The world had spun in flashes of black and white for a frightening second or two, but the SUV had held her up. She’d blinked past the dizziness at three men circling closer.

“Don’t fight us, witch. We know you have no power.”

Now how did they know that?
She shook off the pain and eased along the side of the SUV to the tailgate. No way was anyone tossing her over a hood again.

“Dude, I have more power in my little finger than you will ever have in your life. Go now or I will fry you.”

Instead of scaring them, the three men laughed. Okay, that was not good. She took a step backwards and hit solid muscle. Whoever it was circled her waist with a big, beefy arm and his nasty breath hit, almost making her gag. When she tensed to try to break free, a knife’s cold edge appeared along the side of her face and she froze.

“Listen, witch. You make one wrong move and I’ll deliver you sliced so that no one will recognise you.”

She didn’t move. He rested the edge along her cheek and poised it there, scaring her badly enough that she shut her eyes and held her breath, anticipating the burn of the first cut. Instead, the man holding her grunted and her knees hit the ground painfully.

Alex!

Alex growled a curse, pulled her up and tossed her to the side—gently, but still hard enough to make her teeth clash together painfully—then went low and tackled the men as if he’d entered a rugby match. Except with Alex, he used weapons. She winced when he ripped the stomach out of one with his knife, then turned to crash his fist into another so savagely that the guy fell back spitting out teeth. The third he simply hit with his gutted friend then with an awful sound, he twisted the man’s neck. The two remaining took off and, without a backwards glance, Alex raced after them leaving her alone and reeling.

Had he beasted out? For her?
She’d not seen his eyes, but the sounds he’d made reminded her of Derrick when Sammie had been hurt.

She waited, half-fearful of what was going on, until she couldn’t stand it any longer and started pacing the area, worry building as time went by. He could be hurt. He could be dead for all she knew. What should she do? Should she go after him and do—what?

“Tom didn’t get his taste, but I still want mine.”

She spun at the sound of the harsh voice and gasped as she recognised one of the immortals. His eyes flashed a sickly greenish yellow and he leered, reminding her of a jackal. He tossed his blond hair out of his eyes and without any other sign, dived for her. He hit like a bull going after red, rolling them until he had her pinned.

Goddess, please, not this. Not this
.
Not again!

She fought harder, but he easily caged her with his bigger body, and just as readily shoved her thighs open and rammed his thick flesh against her. He was big. As huge as Alex and Alex had been seriously daunting in size.

Unlike her wolf, this man frightened her. Alex had turned her on, made her so wet she’d nearly come just thinking of him easing that stiff flesh inside her body so she felt his sack firmly against her skin.

This man terrified her. An immortal, one this big and primed, could kill her in the most painful way a man could destroy a woman.

“Ah, I smell your heat, witch. You’ll take me, eh? All of me,” he husked disgustingly against her throat. He thrust a hand inside his open jeans.

When had he managed that?

She tried to scream, drive her fingers into his eyes or kick him in the balls—anything to stall him from getting that erection near her. She managed to claw at his face, leaving bleeding grooves along his left cheek and jaw.

“Sonofabitch, I’ll teach you a lesson, witch,” he snarled. He stopped fumbling with his pants and ripped his claws through her sweater, shirt and new bra cutting her chest in the process.

She screamed and shuddered from the pain. She gave up trying to get away and headbutted him as hard as she could. He grabbed his nose, howling, and she nearly scooted out from under him. A rock brushed her knuckles and she twisted, trying to grab it, but he caught her hand.

“Bitch, I’ll fuck you so hard for that you’ll never be the same for your wolf again.”

“Let me go! You pathetic, sick bastard, I’ll—”

The blow to her head took her by such surprise she couldn’t react. He pinned her down while she fought the blackness threatening her. Screaming, she felt him freeing his disgusting flesh and ripping at her jeans. She thrashed under him with renewed strength, trying desperately to escape.

Suddenly the sickening weight of him was gone. She scrambled back and watched, shocked as Alex cut the disgusting man’s head off with a vicious sword stroke. Nearly casting up, she scrambled away from them, trying fruitlessly to close her sweater and catch her breath all at the same time.

As she watched, Alex wiped his wrist along his mouth and glared at her. He was sweaty, covered in dirt and blood, but his eyes were so intense she stopped struggling to breathe and simply stared at him. He rose slowly from his crouch, watching her intently the entire time then stalked towards her.

Anger burnt away her fear, and trembling she pointed at him while she tried to gain her feet past the pain. He’d almost got her raped!
Twice
. Twice, disgusting, foul, immortal males had tried to rape her all because of him. The dam holding her temper in broke.

“You stupid, stupid, stupid bastard! Do you know how close that monster—” She broke off to point at the man at their feet. “How close he came to raping me? Do you? Do you realise no one,
no one
should ever be able to do that, but because of you he nearly did!”

“What? I defended you! Killed those—”

“You got me into this situation in the first place! Without you, those men would have never been allowed near me!”

He scowled at her, clearly not agreeing but for once, not threatening her. “I won’t let this happen—”

“No! You won’t let this happen again because you will release me now or I swear to Bridget you will regret ever taking me in the first place you…you…wolf!” She fell to her knees, crying so hard she couldn’t get out how miserable and scared she was and worse, how it was his fault.

Gradually through her tears, she realised Alex had moved closer and knelt near her, rubbing her back more gently than anyone ever had in her life. He eased her into his arms slowly as if he feared harming her—or her temper. She didn’t resist. How could he do this to her? Be so kind? She thought she heard him say he’d never let this happen again, but she was so upset she couldn’t make sense of him through the emotions colouring everything in shades of pain. She’d yelled at him, but in truth, it wasn’t his fault. He’d gone after those monsters to stop this—what had nearly happened. How would he have known one of those sick bastards would circle back to her? The truth was, if he’d been here, that disgusting man wouldn’t have had a chance to touch her.

The surety she felt confused her even more.

Alex abruptly froze his strokes on her back. “You’re hurt!”

“Of course I’m hurt,” she grumbled, wiping at her tears. Why couldn’t life be simple? Why would fate throw her back with a man who didn’t make sense? Why couldn’t he either hate her or…want her. “I hurt
everywhere
! That monster landed on me like a pile of bricks and he almost—”

He didn’t let her finish. He eased her shirt open enough to see the cuts and growled low in his throat. Before she could stop him, he pulled her closer and took her mouth with such urgency she couldn’t react.

The attack, her fear, the pain of her bruises and cuts, all dimmed in comparison to the feel of his lips on hers. She lost herself in the flavour of his mouth. Spicy, warm, male liquid heat suffused her in a kiss out of her wildest dreams. A kiss she could have drowned in—if it had come centuries before. Or if he’d not kidnapped her to use for his own gain.

With more strength than she would have ever thought she possessed, she shoved at his shoulders.

“Stop!”

He did.

She looked at him, watching the way his chest rose and fell with each of his hectic breaths, amazed she’d done such a thing to him with one kiss. Sweat and dirt still marked his face but didn’t hide the lust darkening his handsome features. He watched her closely, then raised his hand and skimmed his knuckles along her jaw.

“He hit you. Cut you. I swore no harm would come to you. Stay with me next time, witch.”

With that very wrong accusation—
he’d
left
her
damn it to go chasing off after them—he stalked to the SUV and seconds later came back with another bundle of clothes.

He hauled her to her feet and, scowling at her, pressed more clothing at her. “Put these on.”

She crossed her arms. Enough was enough. “I am not putting those on.”

His scowl turned harder. “You’re hurt, tired, you need to eat and if you dinna put those on, I will.”

That shut her up. He looked at her with a surly expression until she took the clothing, but she still demanded, “Who were those men?”

“They weren’t
men
.” He squinted into the distance, then back at her. “They were jackals. My guess is the mage will try to take what he wants rather than bargain for it.”

“Bargain? For me? Is that it? You’d trade me for—”

He took a menacing step towards her and her mouth snapped closed.

“Put those on, or I will. We move out in ten minutes.”

When she didn’t move, except to look around them, he shook his head. “There is no one else around. I will check from now on out. Dress, now.” He turned to the side, giving her his back and folded his arms, clearly waiting on her to change.

She swallowed her pain, both from the attacker and now from him, and simply took the clothing and stripped her useless shirt and sweater off. The slices between her breasts and stomach were shallow, but painful.

Not painful enough to have him lick them.
No way. Not that he’d offered.

Amazed still by the rapid changes in him, she stared at him before quickly donning the new shirt and sweater. Where did he get these clothes? And
why
did he get them?

Did it matter?

He kissed you. Alex kissed you.

Why?

Not sure what to think, she examined his profile. He’d kissed her as if he’d needed to kiss her or die. A muscle in his cheek flexed. Was he grinding his teeth? In frustration? Over what? Her not dressing quick enough, most likely. Or her telling him to stop kissing her.

She didn’t know. Could she be sending out some mating vibe and not know it? Could that be why he had pressed himself against her earlier and had kissed her?

The thought hit like another slap. She might have dreamt of Alex—the man—wanting her, but she didn’t want his instincts driving him to do…what? Have sex with her? What else could it be? But that didn’t explain his gentle touch to her face. She trailed her fingers where he had and frowned at his tense shoulders.

Bridget, please help me. What is going on?

No one answered. And nothing came to her as a way out. Worse, she had no idea what to do now.

Follow Alex, she supposed.

Chapter Six

Alex was drowning. He’d come close to calling on his wolf when he’d heard Sorcha’s scream. Seeing another man on top of her, he’d lost control. He’d nearly bitten the man’s neck out and mounted Sorcha right then and there. The urges had been so primal, so intense, he’d battled them as much as he had the jackals.

He’d kissed her though. He wanted to again. He desired her mouth on him more than he wanted to breathe. More than anything else in this world—except revenge.

But she’d shoved him off. Rightly so. The jackal had nearly raped her. She’d not exaggerated when she’d blamed him for the attack. Worse, she was right. It was his fault she’d been in such a situation. He doubted she’d ever been so weak in her life. Unlike some of her kind, Sorcha did not wield weapons made from steel. She was feminine, soft in ways that pleased him.

Maybe it’s because she’s so damn feminine I feel the constant urge to possess her, hear her soft cries and feel her body skimming along mine…

How could he have kissed her like that after the attack? What had he been thinking? He’d been thinking of marking her, making sure every creature that dared come near her knew she was his.

Impossible, but true.

She muttered something under her breath ahead of him and his gaze landed on the rounded, lush curves of her ass. Such an ass could stop traffic, let alone harden a man with one swish of her hips. What would it be like to hold that tiny waist and drive into her from behind, to feel the bounce of her flesh against his hips? He shifted his cock to the side with a rough hand.

“How much longer do you propose we walk, Alex?”

The way she sniped his name made him hide a grin. He thought she did it to irritate him, but the sassy inflection in her tone, as if she were calling him names again, merely shot his opinion of her higher. Hurt, kidnapped and powerless, she still kept them on a steady pace, chattering at him the entire time.

She glanced back when he didn’t answer and her green eyes flashed with irritation. He kept his face blank and frowned at her.

“Just walk, witch.”

“I have a name.”

He didn’t answer. There wasn’t a chance in hell he’d say her name. If he did, there’d be no doubt how much he wanted her. He’d spoken her name before, each time he spilled his seed from looking at her photos. No way was he chancing saying her name now.

She sniffed and muttered he was an imbecile under her breath. She had to know he heard her. He ignored her and fought a grin at her instant huffed out breath. The woman amazed him. She didn’t seem to fear him at all. She’d get feistier when he didn’t answer. Still, her fight could get her harmed. Didn’t she know struggling often enraged the enemy?

“You hit that man with your head. You do know head butts can harm you,” he told her.

She stumbled and glanced back at him. “Not as much as doing nothing.”

The way she said that brought him up short. He’d assumed she’d never been hurt before. A powerful witch, one with her coven behind her, and in alliance with so many of the immortal species, he’d assumed she’d never known labour or strife.

Or maybe he’d not thought on it. All ancients had known hardship. She would be no different. The thought made him frown harder. Who had harmed her? Had it been recent or in the past?

He paced behind her, suddenly filled with anger, at himself or her, he didn’t know. But the rage built step by step until he needed to move faster or chance saying something to her, ask something of her that might reveal more than he wanted her to know.

He’d begun to worry his plan wasn’t as solid as he’d hoped. He’d felt a spike of fear at the thought of her hurt. He shouldn’t. She might be hurt on this mission. He’d known that going in. Hell, he might get himself killed, but suddenly the thought of her harmed because of him didn’t sit well.

“Here, let me lead,” he said more roughly than he’d intended.

Her delicate shoulders tightened under her sweater and she stepped to the side, gesturing with a frosty smile for him to pass. He wanted to kiss her until that chill melted under his lips, but he fought it enough to pass her without touching.

How long could he do this, though?

Seven days?

Impossible.

He’d waited centuries to get this close to his vengeance, but suddenly seven days seemed like a lifetime.

“Keep going,” Alex grumbled. “And don’t fall behind.”

Sorcha tried hard for several seconds, at least two, before she said, “I’m going in case you can’t see me.”

Alex didn’t respond. They walked side by side, but he didn’t even glance at her. If she stopped though, he pulled her along, not gently but not too roughly either. She didn’t stop again, not after the angry look he’d given her the last time. He seemed to grow colder and colder the higher they went into the highlands.

“Why are you so cold?”

He lowered his brow but didn’t look at her. So went their time together so far. He’d ignored her for what seemed like forever. Even in the meagre light, she could see him trying his best to pretend she wasn’t walking right next to him. Why do that? Why bring her along at all? To gain something, obviously.

“I mean, not chilly as in brrrr, but cold, like in not very pleasant. Unfeeling. Rude. Arrogantly only worried about yourself.”

She got no reaction, but then he’d mastered ignoring at the PhD level.

Her plan—because yes she had one—was to soften him a bit. Even a tiny bit would be amazing, but so far she’d had no luck. Since he’d rescued her, he’d not said more to her other than to tell her she might get hurt headbutting people. Who thought like that? Who believed that by doing nothing, they had a better chance at surviving?

Alex did, but then when he did nothing it didn’t mean he
couldn’t
do anything. It simply meant he was waiting for a better chance to kill his opponent. At least that was her guess. And guesses as to what drove Alex were all she had right now.

The only good thing going for her was he seemed to avoid her now, as if coming too close might cause him to go wild and kiss her again.

A girl could dream.

Well… She regarded his silent, broody profile and reconsidered that. He was handsome, but he was also hard in ways not even his wolf could break. The lines of his face were clean and strong. His chiselled body was built to protect and guard a woman, or drive her to orgasm after orgasm. But beneath the surface, was there a man? He seemed more machine, driven to walk, to talk, to stand, sit, shove her…all that but was there more? He’d seemed close to showing her more with his kiss, but what had that meant?

She still didn’t know. Maybe he’d simply kissed her to stop her from crying. Men were odd, who knew what he thought?

“Like, do you ever laugh? I mean is that not something the wolves do. Have fun?” she asked after giving him his two minutes to come up with a response.

He didn’t answer. She walked on up the side of the mountain he wanted them to climb and gained a space to slow before she continued. The forest around them was silent in that way nature became before the chill of the Winter Queen spreading her cloak over the land.

Alex didn’t seem bothered by the cold. He was dressed in a button down shirt and jeans. The backpack he’d stowed all their gear in rose above his head, but the weight didn’t slow him. Wolves were strong like that. She’d bet he could go for days without a break.

“Lykae have fun. I know they do. The pack is a big family. They’re wolf-like and playful—well, when I say
they’re wolf-like
, I mean other Lykae, not of course you, since the happy gene seems to have bypassed you—but most of your kind enjoy life.”

He glanced at her.

Finally!

Then he gave her a scathing look like she was beneath his high and mightiness and turned back to the path.

She dug her nails into her palms to keep from bodily harming him. No doubt, he’d bodily harm her much worse. The thought made her pause. He hadn’t hurt her—well, he’d enjoyed making sure she knew he was bigger and stronger—shoving, pushing, pulling, hauling her around—but he’d not harmed her. He’d even been oddly gentle with her.

Except with the rope. Even if he had used a softer weave, the ropes had cut into her wrists and he had to have known after those bindings came off she’d be in pain. Just remembering what he’d done about that pain though, sent her into a tailspin. She didn’t understand him. He’d been harsh, even growling curses at her, but he’d left her hotter than she’d ever been in her life. He’d been just as affected she thought. She slanted a look at him and wanted to growl—he’d looked angry, pissed off at the jackals, but he’d come back looking sated, too. She’d been attacked because he’d gone off and done some alone time with his big, hard body. At least she thought he had. If he had, well, he was a jerk. If not, well, he sucked at scouting.

“At least tell me where we are going.”

He grunted and turned to her from where he waited, hands on his lean hips and not even winded. She struggled up the steep incline using a tree to pull herself along and stopped breathlessly next to him. They’d been walking all day, but he insisted on keeping the pace even when eating. Now it was dusk and getting darker every minute. Did he expect her to walk in the dark?

“We head due north. Am Monadh Ruadh and beyond.”

Am Monadh Ruadh
. The highlands of her home. Did he know? She watched him closely, but without her witch sight, she had no idea what his cold, hard expression meant. She kept her face clear of any recognition.

“Why there? A bunch of rock and rubble.”

“That’s where we go. You don’t need to know more.” He turned and she caught his arm, quickly dropping her hand when he jerked away.

“But where? What mountain?”

One arrogant eyebrow rose, but he didn’t answer her. Instead, he turned away again, marching his sexy butt up the trail. She fumed. “Listen to me, you overbearing idiot! Those mountain ranges are dangerous—”

Alex turned around angrily at that.

“And we can’t just waltz up there. It’s nearly Winter Solstice. The snow will be knee high, the chances of avalanches too dangerous—”

“Listen to me,
witch
,” Alex interrupted her quietly. “Before today, it might have been possible for you to give me orders, but from the first moment you were in my charge, you’ve lost that ability. I will reach Braeriach, and not even your goddesses will be able to aid you if you don’t reach it with me.”

Her breath left her on a gasp, but she still managed to say, “You’re insane!
Braeriach
?”

“Aye, maybe I am, so if I were you, I would give that some thought. An insane man has nothing to lose, eh? Even worrying over a witch perishing from her own stubbornness.”

“My own stubbornness,” she spluttered, but his arrogance was simply blowing her away. Braeriach was one of the highest, most dangerous peaks in Scotia. “It’s saved my life so far—”

“So far it’s gotten you gagged. Do you want to wear one again?”

“I will not tag along on this madness, Alex.”

“You will not?” Alex roared, startling her so badly she nearly lost her footing on the rock. “Your wishes mean nothing to me. And what you want means even less, witch. We walk. Now. Or I bind your hands and drag you up the mountain.”

She clenched her fists, not moving. Slowly, she opened her hands and observed that she’d sliced into her palms with her short, sharp nails.

He meant that, truly, completely meant that. He’d do anything for this revenge. Even trade her to some mage he had no chance of defeating—he had to know that, but when she listened to him, she heard his confidence and wondered. Could he have a means for killing this mage she didn’t know about? Or, was this like the softer ropes he’d used to bind her—not as rough as the demon’s bindings, but in the end just as painful? Was he simply forgetting that fact? Even if he had something to kill Zith with, in the end, she could still suffer.
Or maybe, that isn’t even a thought in his head.

“Do you understand?”

“I understand completely,” she murmured, keeping her thoughts to herself.

“Walk, now.”

Sorcha stared at him for that—only for a moment then dropped her eyes and started walking. She felt washed out, drained, impotently angry. Everything was going to hell and she had no way to stop it. Alex held all the cards, didn’t he? He wouldn’t even tell her who this Zith person was, nor why he wanted to trade her. Or for what.

Zith
. It had to be short for something else, but what she couldn’t figure out. She knew no one with a ‘zith’ in their name.

After several minutes of simply placing one foot in front of the other, she worked up enough courage to ask, “Who is Zith?”

Alex stumbled on a rock he’d jumped to and caught himself easily. He turned to look back at her and examined her face. “Where did you hear that name?”

One thing she’d learnt about Alex was that he blew his lid then, as if he’d punished a misbehaving child, he went on, lesson learnt. He didn’t seem to mind teaching the same lesson repeatedly. He didn’t want her talking, but he let her—to a point—then he raged at her. He didn’t want to answer questions, but he just had, then raged at her. The cycle didn’t escalate to more, but it didn’t lessen either.