To Catch a Wolf (49 page)

crippled legs. But like all dreams, this too must come to an end.

Moving by the tiniest increments, she leaned back to study Morgan's face. It had not yet

taken on the harsh lines and wariness it usually wore by daylight, nor did his features

reflect the surrender and abandon of their love-making. Jaw, lips, eyes, forehead, all

were relaxed. Waiting. Holding fast to the peace he so seldom allowed himself.

She ached to touch him. But if he still slept, she couldn't rob him of these moments. She

wished she could sleep again and find herself in a new dream, one in which she and

Morgan were together with no thought of the vast gulf that lay between them.

A raven croaked harshly among the pines outside. Morgan opened one eye and

muttered an inaudible curse. His arm tightened about her as if he expected her to flee.

"Good morning," she whispered. She kissed his cheek, challenging him to reject that

homely intimacy. His jaw flexed and released. "Did you sleep well?”

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He might have thought her mad for indulging in such banal civilities, as if they were an

ordinary newlywed couple the first morning after their marriage—a little shy, a little

awkward, still aglow with sensual discoveries and looking forward to many more such

adventures to come.

But he turned his head to look at her, and all the tenderness he found so difficult to

show lay raw and exposed in his eyes. "Did you?”

"Very well." She tucked her head on his shoulder and laced her fingers through his. "I

only wish

”

He stiffened. "What do you wish?”

She threw caution to the winds. "I wish that you and I could make this moment last

forever.”

He sat up, taking care to let her down gently as he changed position. Athena swallowed

the sudden thickness of tears and drew her knees to her chest. You have ruined it.

Words

words only frighten him away.

Morgan sat with his back to the sloping cave wall just as he had last night before the

loving, as unapproachable as a heathen idol carved of stone. She knew the nature of

the heart that beat within his broad chest, the gentleness of which he was capable, the

stubborn loyalty that belied his judgment of himself. But he wanted to pretend she did

not understand.

"It's no use, Morgan," she said. "We cannot go back.”

He stared fiercely at the opposite wall. A gust of cold air blew in the cave mouth, lifting

long black strands of hair across his face and shoulders. He made no attempt to brush

them away.

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"No," he said. "You cannot go back to what you were.”

It was not what she had meant. "An invalid? Living in denial of half of myself? You're

right, Morgan. I can only go forward, as you must.”

He said nothing. She wanted to scream and jump up and down, if only to make him look

at her. The closeness of their joining had been as fragile as a snowflake, evaporated in

an instant of heat and passion. How could everything they had built last night have

vanished so completely?

With an effort she composed herself. Violent emotion would only drive him further away.

The wrong words might frighten him, but they were all she had.

"We never finished our discussion," she said. "There is still time for you to tell me

everything, Morgan. I said I would listen, and not judge. I meant it. And whether you like

it or not, you can't shut me out so easily. You see

I love you.”

The cave reverberated with her calm declaration. Her heart tripped out a frantic tattoo.

Morgan blinked, once, the only sign that he had heard and understood.

"There," she said with false lightness. "I have given you my greatest secret. I doubt that

yours is any more terrifying.”

Slowly he looked at her, expressionless to any eyes but hers. "What do you want of

me?”

No tears, she commanded. It is his way. It is always his way to hide when he feels too

much. "I want to know what you want. I want to understand why you think you must

protect me from yourself when we have given each other so much.”

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He took in a long, deep breath and let it out again, wreathing his face in mist. "Will you

come with me, now?”

"What?”

"I asked you once before," he said. "Will you come with me—away from Denver, from

Colorado, taking nothing, giving up everything you've known? Will you, Athena?”

Yes, her heart cried. Yes, yes, and yes. But there was something wrong with his

question and her own response to it. She hesitated, and in that hesitation lay the cold,

hard seed of doubt.

So much had altered since the first time he had asked her to abandon her life. She had

remembered how to Change, and healed herself. She had begun to discover that what

seemed important was only window dressing and false pride. She had learned to love,

not with charitable dispassion, but with her entire soul.

She was not the person she had been a few months ago. But Morgan demanded her

complete surrender without offering his trust in return. He had tried to drive her away

even as he claimed her for his own. He asked her to run, not toward a real life together,

but away from what he feared in himself.

"You want me to go with you," she said. "But you expect me to do so in ignorance. You

want me to trust you, when you will not trust me with the things that have hurt you and

made you what you are. You refuse to believe that I'm strong enough to accept

whatever you tell me." She held out her hand, cupping her palm as if she could touch

his face. "All I ask is that you confide in me, Morgan. Confide in the woman who loves

you. If you do that now, for me, I will go with you to the ends of the earth.”

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Dry leaves rustled across the cavern floor. Athena's heart beat five, ten, twenty times

before Morgan moved. He smiled, only with his mouth, and she knew that she had lost

her gamble.

"Your love is not enough," he said, almost gently. "The answers you want are only the

beginning. You would find no contentment, no peace. You would always expect what I

can't give you.”

"You mean that you could not love me.”

"Love breaks like thin ice on a lake just when you think it is sound to cross." He lowered

his head so that the dark mass of his hair concealed his face. "It's a hard lesson, but it

will make you stronger in the end.”

"Strong

as you are? Is this your example, Morgan?" She uncurled and stood to face

him. "Is it strength to pretend that none of this ever happened? Should I let my past

determine my future, crawl back into my chair and play at being helpless so that I will be

safe until the day I die?”

"You will not be safe in Denver.”

Such irrational anger stirred in Athena that it was as if the wolf had taken her mind

without Changing her body.

"Oh?" she choked out. "What danger will I face, once you are gone? My heart will be

cast in iron, but I'll still be able to help those who can find some use in hope. If I'm

careful, I can concoct an explanation for my recent behavior that may convince society

to accept me back into its midst.”

His eyes burned through the veil of his hair. "You will not be safe as long as your

brother is alive.”

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"I know

I know that he tried to kill you, but he is not an evil man. I will talk to him. I'll

make him understand, and he'll regret what he did—”

"No." Morgan stood, moving as if every bone and muscle in his body had been torn

apart. "Niall told me the truth about your mother, Athena. He hid it from you all these

years. He wanted you to remain dependent and weak, so that he wouldn't have to

remember the woman who stole your father's love.”

"What truth?" she whispered.

Morgan hesitated, staring toward the mouth of the cave.

"What truth?" She strode toward him and stood so close that he had no choice but to

meet her gaze. "Tell me!”

He lifted his hand and let it fall. "He told me that he got rid of your mother.”

Her knees locked, keeping her on her feet. "I don't understand.”

"He hated her. He hated what she was, and that your father loved her more than he did

his own mother. He was still a boy when he—”

"No." She pressed her hands over her ears. "I don't believe it.”

"He had no reason to lie to me." The gentleness of Morgan's voice pierced her shock as

no shout could. "Listen to me. You must be on guard against him. He knows what you

are, and he hates you for it, just as he hated your mother. You betrayed him when you

came to me. He will not forgive you, Athena. If he killed once, he can kill again.”

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"Like you?" She backed toward the entrance. "Do you presume to understand what Niall

is because you have committed murder?”

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She had sworn not to

judge him, not to use his past against him, and she had failed in her promise.

"Morgan—”

His eyes were frosted glass. "I should have killed him.”

In that moment she believed that he had done what Cecily claimed, that he could kill a

man without compunction or regret. She stood on the lip of the cave, half in light and

half in shadow, driven just as surely between woman and wolf, trust and betrayal, love

and hate.

There was no certainty, no peace. The two men she loved most had become deadly

strangers. Doubt ate at her like a cancer. Her familiar world had done more than

change; it had shattered. She had only the smallest hope of putting it back together

again. And she must do it alone. For Morgan's sake, for Niall's

and because she had

no right to happiness she had not earned.

"I am going," she said. "I'm going to find my brother and make him tell me the truth."

She stepped into harsh noon light, and Morgan tensed to follow. "No. Don't come after

me. You owe me nothing." She closed her eyes to the sight of his beloved face. "You

are free.”

He laughed wretchedly. "Don't trust him. Athena—”

She Changed and was ready when he followed. She turned on him, snapping and

snarling, until he had to retreat or defend himself. But he did not Change. He knelt in the

snow, hands on his thighs, and watched her go.

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Phantom tears gathered behind her wolf's eyes. It must be this way. Niall is still my

brother. You would destroy us both if you killed for my sake. And I am not strong

enough, my love. Not strong enough to believe in you.

Athena lost herself in the wolf and ran, with all her strength, until she knew nothing but

the flex of muscle and the rush of wind through her fur. When she reached the ranch

she traced a wide circle around the buildings and approached from the rear of the

house, a shadow all but invisible to human eyes. At the door she Changed, slipped into

the house, and dashed up the stairs to her room. There she hastily donned a calico skirt

and shirtwaist, barely enough to cover her nakedness.

Voices echoed downstairs, but none of them was Niall's. She took the stairs two at a

time and confronted a pair of startled troupers, men she recognized as Harry's star

aerialists.

"Where is Mr. Munroe?" she demanded.

They exchanged glances. "Miss Athena?" one of them said. "He left with Caitlin, just

after dawn.”

She had no time to consider the implications of Caitlin's involvement. "Where did they

go?”

"I heard it was to look for you in Denver," the other man said. "Harry and Ulysses left

last night. They said you might be in trouble." He paused. "Can we help, Miss Athena?”

She shook her head and tried to clear her mind. Did Harry and Ulysses know that Niall

had tried to kill Morgan? Was that why they had gone to Denver? Why had Niall taken

Caitlin, when surely he must believe that Morgan was dead and he was returning to

face his sister's anguish? Caitlin would hate him just as much for what he had done.

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Without another word to the troupers, Athena ran back upstairs and threw open the

wardrobe. On one of the shelves she found a pair of trousers and a flannel shirt. She

pulled out a pair of old boots and quickly made a bundle of the clothing, cinching it with