Unchained (Dark Shifter Romance) (5 page)

Lacey fought the urge to shake her head. "No, that's stupid. It's one thing for some crazy werewolf people to hide in the woods, but eating a bunch of people? I'm pretty sure someone would noticed that."

But even as the words left her mouth, Lacey was already thinking back. Quarantined areas, roadblocks. Mysterious men with mysterious guns and no-nonsense attitudes. Their excuses had been transparently thin, and the whole thing had been
weird
…

She bit her lip. When she’d been a child, her father had always listened to the old-timers' no-nonsense radio stations with a grim look on his face, listening to various small-town problems. Bear attacks, reports of rabid wolves.

He’d always been a survivalist, and his strange interests had only gotten stronger as he’d settled into old age. Her family had written him off as a harmless lunatic in his later years, stuck with the sort of slightly odd focus that older men got when they were retired and found that they had too much time on their hands, but… But he'd lived in the area his whole life, and he’d thought it was important to prepare for emergencies…

Behind her, the man stepped up to fill the silence. "If they did it all in one bloody spree, yeah, someone would take notice. National Guard would be in there, guns blazing. But Colt is bloodthirsty, ruthless. A complete asshole, but he isn't stupid. The son of a bitch is crafty in his own way.”

His voice was grim. “There’s always loners, out on the fringes of town. Colt used to take just enough of them to whet his appetite and train his boys, then leg it back into the forest. The National Guard may be able to lock down cities, but they’re not so good at wading through waist high snow in a Canadian winter, hunting down a pack of wolves that scatter in every direction."

His fingers dragged up through Lacey's now shaggy scalp. The sensation was almost welcome, that small human gesture a lifeline to hold her steady as she was drowning in a sea of bizarre supernatural stories. "But he’s getting bolder. He hit the town north of here, and then came right down the freeway in broad daylight. All these houses, so far away from each other… The cover of darkness on a moonless night…"

He shook his head. "The authorities here were prepared for animal attacks, but animals with the minds of men? No human is prepared for that. They like their disasters brainless and wild, not with true human cunning behind them.”

“That can’t be right,” Lacey protested. “There’s cops, there’s the military, the— the FBI! How can a pack of dogs stand up to trained men with guns?”

“Hmm.” Her captor drummed his fingers on her shoulder, thinking. It tickled. “What’s more dangerous, a tiger or a man with a knife?”

Lacey frowned. “Okay, I’ll play along. A tiger, naturally.”

“If a tiger escapes from a zoo, what happens?”

“Well... I guess they shoot it. I think I remember seeing something like that on the news, once. They evacuated the zoo and shot it before anyone got hurt.”

He cocked his head. “If a serial killer is on the loose, what happens?”

Belatedly, Lacey began to realise his point. “The cops find evidence and stuff, then they try to track him down...”

“How long does that usually take?”

“Okay, okay, I get it. Humans are harder to catch.”

He nodded. “A human is a lot less dangerous than a tiger, but what they lack in teeth and claws, they make up for in brains. A murder can play keep away with the cops for years without getting caught— sometimes without being caught at all."

“And these humans
do
have teeth and claws, to boot...” Lacey ground her teeth. "Where do I come into this?" she asked, flatly. "You say that they're just killing people, but then why didn’t he kill me?"

The man behind her put his impromptu hairdressing on hold. A moment later, she felt the press of his hand to the scar on her shoulder, those strong fingers tracing the jagged silver lines where the beast's teeth had sunk deep into her. "You're a prize."

It was a short sentence, delivered bluntly, but it was still enough to send a shudder down Lacey's spine. "He didn't get me though," she said. "He bit me, but I fell into the river before he could eat me…"

"He wasn't trying to eat you." His hands left her scar, as if it was repulsive. "He was trying to turn you."

"To make me one of his... what did you call it? Pack?" Lacey's heart pounded sickly, feeling overwhelmed. For a moment she felt exactly as she had back when her father was dying in hospital, feeling something huge and inevitable barrelling towards her, and knowing she was powerless to stop it.

The man touched her shoulder again, gently turning her around to face him. Her skin prickled with goose bumps, and she remembered that she had been naked this whole time. Somewhere along the line, she’d forgotten. She felt small and vulnerable in a way that she had never felt before.

His eyes were calm as he locked gazes with her. "To turn you into his mate."

The cabin was quiet that evening. The girl had been silent after Jack had filled her in on the details of her captivity, following him numbly on the walk back. He’d even had to remind her to dress herself again. For a moment he had worried about her spirit, as if she had broken under the weight of what he had told her, but the straightness of her back and the quiet in her eyes reassured him otherwise. She hadn't broken. She was merely bending under the weight of what had been placed upon her, adjusting to it…

And Jack had no doubt that, when it came time to it, she would snap back up.

"Here." He placed a meal down in front of her on the bed. It was meagre offerings indeed, just made of what he'd been able to find in the supplies of the cabin, but the groans of her stomach were audible. The plate clinked against the metal links of her chain.

She looked up to him, those wide brown eyes still vague and distant, working through some internal calculations he was not privy to. "Do I really have to be chained up again?"

"Yeah, you do." He turned away from her, crossing the room to settle back at in the armchair at the far wall.

When he didn't elaborate on this, her eyes narrowed. It was the first sign of irritation he’d seen since the river. "And this is gonna protect me from the big bad wolf storming through my window to kidnap me?"

No. It's to keep you there so you bond to me, whether you like it or not. You need to be near me, drinking in the scent of me, hanging on every breath…
Instead of voicing his thoughts, Jack shook his head. "You've only got a few days until the new moon, and then you'll change. It won't be all at once, either. Your body is going to want things for you that you won't be able to identify." He jerked his chin at the cabin door. "Colt might not have left the best impression on you, but two days down from the moon, your instincts might make you beat a path straight to his door."

The girl let out a snort of disbelief, shaking her head slightly, but she didn't say anything else. She tucked into her food, not meeting his eyes.

Jack let his gaze drift out of the window, telling himself he was scanning for threats instead of just avoiding looking at the girl across the room.

The sight of her bare body at the river had driven his alpha senses wild, urging him on to claim her as his own. He'd got a grip on himself, though. There was still time before the new moon. He didn't have to force things, and risk an angry she-wolf fighting him during her transformation. He needed her to be drawn to him instead of Colt, and that meant walking a thin line.

He'd seen the way that she'd shuddered under his attentions as he'd cut her hair or offered her foot from his hand, each touch of his hands against her bare skin sending trembles through that pale, vulnerable body. His heart had raced, his blood pounding hot and heady through him.

As alpha of the pack, dominant and confident even at a young age, Jack had had his fair share of pairing proposals. He turned them all down. Not that the female shifters hadn't been appealing-- God, they’d been beautiful!-- but while they’d provoked the physical reactions of his human body, none of them had excited his wolf senses. He wanted someone he could protect, someone who would offer their body up to him for to claim…

Someone bound with the fated bonds of mateship.

He swallowed hard. Her body had reacted to his touch, shivering under his caresses, but he had also reacted to her.
Jack, old buddy, you're losing it
, his inner voice told him.
You're going goofy over some girl you've known for a day, a girl you're just using for your own needs. You're so fucked up over your pack that you're just crying out for anyone to be there for you, and you know it.

"So," the girl's voice broke the silence between them. "What's your name?"

Jack turned away from his thoughts to look back at her. "It doesn't matter."

He saw her face wrinkle up in honest confusion. "Oh yes it does. I want to know the name of the man who's saving me from the evil boogie man."

He shook his head. "No. No names. It makes this easier."

She narrowed her eyes are him. "See, that's funny. That sound exactly like what a serial killer would say."

He cocked his head. "I thought you believed me about the wolf shifter thing."

"No, no, I'm with you on that account. I mean, as with it as I possibly could be when a mysterious man chains me to a bed and tells me that I’m turning into a werewolf." She waved a hand in the air, as if brushing away his question. "No, I mean… this. Sure, you're telling me that you're saving me from some guy wanting to do god knows what with me, but you haven't even told me your name. That’s some serial killer shit."

The low baseline of guilt within Jack's chest rose up inside him once again. He didn't want to know this girl's name. He didn't want to know anything about her, save for the fact that in a week, she would be his. He'd use her love to fill the bleeding wound within him, and then he'd leave her behind to challenge Colt in alpha combat. He needed her to get to Colt, that was all. Getting close and buddy-buddy with her wasn't going to help him.

"You can tell me after you transform,” he bit out. “Save it for then."

"Really? Because that sounds nice and all, but also sounds like a huge pile of shit." The fury of the first day was back in her eyes, setting them alight. It made his heart beat with an anticipation that he couldn't quite explain. "You're telling me that you want to save me, but you chain me to the bed. You're framing yourself as this amazing hero, but you haven't told me who you are or where you're from."

Even the thought of bringing up his murdered pack with the girl felt somehow dirty, like their memories would be sullied by what he was attempting in the room. It felt... wrong. “It doesn’t matter where I’m from.”

She threw up her hands. "God, I can feel the guilt pouring off of you, even from over here. Give it to me straight, doctor: am I going to wind up chopped into pieces in a freezer? Maybe dumped in a river somewhere-- yeah, that seems thematically satisfying."

Slowly, Jack stood up from the chair. "This discussion is over."

"Sounds perfectly wide open to me!” she said, a dark glee in her voice.

"Enough," he barked.

She sat back on the bed, her arms crossed like a caricature of a stubborn teenager. She opened her mouth in recitation. "My name is Lacey Surname, I’m 24 years old, and I like--"

He was on her in a flash, covering the space between them faster than a human could move. He came to a halt about inch away from her, his lip curled in a cold snarl. "Enough."

She didn't flinch. He noted with a dull horror how fast the transformation was taking hold: he'd thrown himself across the room straight in her face, and she didn't even flinch.

She glared up at him, her own lip curling in a mirror response. "I work in a bar, have a little sister, and live in a too-small apartment with a room-mate who gets my nerves--"

He moved, the same as he had the night before. The weight of his body pinned her back down against the mattress, her chain letting out a jingle of metallic scraping.

But unlike the night before, when she had turned pliant and submissive under his alpha claim for dominance, she laughed straight in his face. "And you? If you're not gonna tell me anything, I'm gonna start making it up." She cocked her head to the side in mock curiosity. "Are you a John? You look like a John. So, John--"

He let out a snarl, then, a true wolf noise, the sort of animal challenge that sent a primal fear running down the spine of anyone and anything in earshot. He felt her jolt underneath him, as if raw voltage had been plugged through her body, and she breathed hard. Her eyes were large and dark, the pupils expanded to nearly fill the earthy brown of her irises. If she had been purely human, he would have thought she was on drugs. Instead, he recognised the responses of a wolf, fight or flight in full display.

"You know, the last time you did this, it did something to me!" she said." It was like you... I don't know, like you reached into my brain and switched off all the lights, like putting a blanket over a birdcage." She shook her head. "This time it's not gonna work, buddy!"

Jack pressed his weight down against her, and then harder when he felt her press back up against him, her body arching now not in submission, but in challenge. He tightened his hands around her hips, pressing her to the bed-- to him?-- he wasn't sure. When had he even grabbed her hips? He didn't know. His head was swimming with her, with this challenging creature with fury burning in her eyes. "Shut up."

She jammed her head forward, until they were almost nose to nose. He could breathe in the sweet, feminine smell of her scent, clear even under the notes of the soap he'd found. She smelt clean and fresh and wild, as if the energy of the river had come with her back to the bed. "Tell me who you are," she said, and the breath of her words brushed against his lips.

He felt hot, overheated, as if he was burning up from inside. Underneath him, her smaller body blazed hot against his own, even hotter, like a thing of pure molten metal. "No," he repeated, though he no longer remembered exactly what this challenge had been about. It was enough that it was a challenge, with his alpha wolf howling inside him, and this strange creature, not yet wolf and not quite human, staring him down in a way that nor the wolf yet had.

With a thrill, he heard her let out a growl of her own. It was a small noise, coming from human lungs, human instincts, informed by the needs of the wolf that was not yet fully formed within her. He felt the skin above his spine prickle, his hackles wanting to rise even in his human form.

She bit off the snarl, her lips opening again. He expected her to repeat her demand, another demand coming from those sweet lips… but instead she moved forward.

Her teeth scraped across his as she claimed his mouth in a burning hot kiss, all aggression and challenge. His fingers gripped the slender flesh of her hips, bruisingly hard. His head swam with confusion as he kissed her back, trying to claim her mouth even as she claimed his. It was not like any kiss he’d experienced before, no coy teasing and sweet lip gloss to flavour their curious exploration of each other's mouths. This was raw and wet and hot, something animalistic that was rising up between the two of them, threatening to swallow them both whole.

With a growl, he bought one hand to the back of her neck, locking them to each other. In response, she bit his lip, nearly hard enough to draw blood. He panted hot and hard against her mouth, the thrill of the pain only taking him to further heights. He was aware that he was hard against her; his cock must have been unmistakable pressed against the soft curve of her lower belly through her underwear and the thin fabric of her shirt.

At the back of her neck, his questing fingers found that they were looking for. Every inch of his being was telling him to pull her even closer to him, to press skin against skin and flesh against flesh, but the cold metal of the chain around her neck was enough to ground him in some small dose of reality. He wrapped his hand around the chain and tugged back, severing the kiss.

The chain in his hand was as cold as the air that now hit his lips, aching from her sudden absence like something vital had been cut from him. He needed distance from her, he'd thought, wildly. He needed to put some space between them...

She slid one bare thigh along the outside of his hip, the drag of skin against skin nothing but sweet. But then she moved, the otherwise appealing gesture turning into a brutal grapple. Swinging her weight, she flipped him over, reversing their positions and straddling him on the bed.

The breath was knocked from his lungs as she flipped him, her small hands surprisingly heavy as she pressed down on his chest, pinning him underneath her. In the pale moonlight streaming into the cabin, she looked like some sort of fierce primal goddess, glaring down at him with a mix of contempt and lust. His cock strained inside his jeans against the curve of her inner thigh, desperately wanting the heat of her body, the sweetness of release.

She cocked her head to the side, her gaze pinning him in place like a butterfly on a board. He let out a growl at the sight of her lips, swollen from where he had bitten her, sucked at the tender flesh. He wanted to mark her further, to suck hot claiming kisses against her neck, the swell of her breasts, down beneath sweet junction of her thighs…

She leaned forward, resting her weight on her hands where they were splayed across her chest. "So," she said. "John?"

He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. "Jack," he said

"I was close," she said, some dark amusement lighting her face. She leaned down towards him, her face barely inches from his own. "Now, Jack," she said, and grinned. "Get the fuck off of my bed.”