Unmasking the Wolf (20 page)

Luke stood and reached for her hand. He slid the ring onto her finger and sealed the promise with a kiss. “I’m going to enjoy spending the rest of my life with you.”

“I suppose it’s a good thing I ran away.” She met his gaze and saw forever reflected in his eyes. “It made me find you.”

Christy Gissendaner is a romantic comedy author and believes laughter and love should go hand in hand. She lives in Alabama with her husband and three sons and is always hard at work on her next novel. In her spare time she loves blackjack, karaoke, and anything resembling a vacation!

http://christygissendaner.webs.com

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Étaín wrinkled her nose at Larkin’s too-depictive command, but held her tongue until the three warriors departed. A stiff wind rattled the shingle attached to the shop into which he had disappeared. She hugged her arms, pretended a shiver, and mimicked a sneeze.

Cedilla gave her a sharp inspection. “Rory, run after the cart, and fetch milady’s wool brat. Make haste and return to us. Did I not say ′twas too cold for that summer brat? Your da will have me whipped if you catch a chest chill again.”

“Aye. You had the right of it Cedilla. I should have donned my heavy cloak. Forgive my stubbornness. Look, we are at the baker’s pasty shop and his ovens fair heat the air. Wait here for Rory, while I warm my chilled flesh inside the shop.” When Cedilla frowned down at her, Étaín added, “I will be but an ell away from you and the door is open. I will come to no harm.”

Before her nurse could utter a word, Étaín ducked into the shop. ′Twas here she had seen him these past months, here and on the piers, but never had she dared enter when he was there

Shadows lay heavy in the hut’s corners, but she ventured into the deep darkness drawn by his unique scent, man, the sea, and some arousing, unknown spice.

“Good morn, milady.” The pasty maker’s wife squatted to throw two logs under a brick oven. “What have you this day? Venison or swede pasty?”

“She will have one of each.”

Étaín could not draw a breath when he stepped out of the shadows and into the flickering light of the oil lamp hanging from a rafter. His voice brought to mind an image of the giant oaks found in the Fathomless Forest overlooking Caul Cairlinne, deep timbered, gruff, and compelling.

He wore a raven-blue cloak pinned at his throat by a brass brooch in the shape of some mythical creature with wings, horns, and clawed hands and feet. A beast with ferocious features, yet she felt no timidity, no anxiety. Instead, her heart swelled and galloped fit to burst out of her chest.

She linked her fingers together to stop their violent trembling and gawked at him.

The dark hood concealing his features fell away. He took two great strides to the pasty maker’s counter laden with steaming pies.

Étaín had memorized his face the first time they had stared at each other across the congested quay. The sun had woven its rays into the burnished chestnut of his hair, which fell in waves to the cusps of shoulders too broad to span in one glance. The bump in the middle of his nose spoke of battles long waged.

Dark brows pinched together when he drew coin from a purse and tossed the round metal onto the wooden counter.

The pasty maker’s wife wrapped two pies in a large green leaf and handed them to him.

He spun around.

She marveled at the poetry of the way he moved, all animal supple, arrogant, and contained, like a fierce dragon crouched to pounce.

“For you, fair lady.” He sketched a courtier’s bow and she wondered if he, too, was of royal blood.

“My thanks.” Étaín’s knees quaked and she blushed under his intense scrutiny. She accepted the pasties, balanced the broad leaf in one hand, and tore it in half. Concentrating on her task but aware he studied her every action; she divided the pies in two, folded one of each into a leaf half, and offered him the larger portion. “Will you break your fast with me, my lord?”

“I am yours to command, my lady, in any way.

Adonia smirked to herself as she stepped into her little cabin. She’d leave the preening white wolf outside to pick his jaw up off the ground. Did that man seriously believe she hadn’t noticed him? What rock had he crawled out from under when he got up this morning?

Granted, she would admit one thing, he probably had an agenda that went far beyond anything she could conjure in her mind. He definitely had the advantage there. She doubted he popped out of nowhere without ulterior motives. But, he didn’t hold all the cards. Most importantly, he hadn’t known she was part wolf. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have stood there in plain daylight all cocky, watching her work.

She’d sensed him before he’d breached the ridge. And she’d known he was her mate before she saw him out of her peripheral vision.

His senses were top notch, as any snow wolf’s would be, but she had the added advantage of being half fey. She’d never met her father, but his blood ran thick in her veins.

The door opened at her back, as she knew it would. She didn’t turn from where she stood at the sink washing dishes, humming to herself. “Well, shut the door. You’re letting the warm air out.”

Shuffling behind her indicated the man had at least stepped inside. A snick sounded as the winter was closed off from them. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Good, she had humbled him. She had decided half an hour ago to take the upper hand in this . . . thing between them. Huge white male wolves in the wilds of Siberia could be very domineering.

Adonia wasn’t one to be pushed around. It was time to see what she was up against.

She turned from the sink and leaned against the short counter, crossing her arms under her breasts. With an intentional scowl, she narrowed her gaze at the newcomer and gave him the onceover from the bottom up, pausing an inordinately long time to take in his package on the way and making him squirm under the scrutiny.

She wasn’t disappointed. The clothes he’d conjured up to shift in were a good choice—well-worn jeans that hugged his cock to perfection and a white V-neck muscle shirt that left no room for doubt about his pecs and abs.

Oh, hell yeah. You’ll do just fine.

When she reached his face, she paused to study his expression. Regardless of her intense perusal, he was grinning at her, still trying to hang on to the upper hand. “Are you pleased?” His voice was deep, probably deeper than it would be if he weren’t so aroused.

She could scent his need. It matched her own. And she knew he would be well aware of that fact. Neither of them would be able to conceal their desire for the other. It was the way of wolf mates.

“I could do worse.”

His mouth dropped open at her shrug, but she couldn’t hold her form. Before he could retort, she started to giggle. Her mirth relaxed his expression and broke the standoff. “Imp.”

“Cocky Alpha.”

Now
he
grinned. Thank God. She was beginning to think his face was chiseled into a scowl.

“Sit.” She pointed at one of two chairs next to the fire place. She took the other. It was plenty warm in her tiny cabin, but she enjoyed sitting in front of the fire most nights, watching the flames jump around. It soothed her. She didn’t need the heat—both sides of her heredity were able to withstand very low temperatures—but she still loved the feelings it evoked. Home. Hearth. Heart.

“How did you find me?” She still had no doubt she’d been “found” rather than accidentally stumbled upon.

“It wasn’t easy. Why are you living so very far away from civilization?” She could feel his gaze on her, boring into her, but she kept her eyes trained on the flames.

“I didn’t choose this spot. My mother did. Many years ago.”

He glanced around, and then his gaze landed back on hers. “Interesting location to set up camp.” He spoke as though she were only here for a brief stop. In reality she’d been here her entire life.

“Did my mother send you?” Adonia narrowed her gaze at him. How had he managed to find her?

He shook his head. “No. Your father.”

“My father? You’ve spoken to him?” She widened her eyes. He’d managed to shock her.

The man laughed. His thick blond hair fell across his brow. His deep blue eyes burrowed under her skin. “I work for your father. I have for many years.”

The admission made Adonia pause. Perhaps this man wasn’t trustworthy after all. Nothing in his demeanor spoke of ill intent, but what little information she had about her father wasn’t admirable.

“Your father gave me very few details. In fact, he failed to mention you were half snow wolf.” He smiled, an endearing dimple popping out on both cheeks. “The vague directions he knew about your location made it difficult to find you.”

“I’m wondering how he even knew anything about me at all. To the best of my knowledge, he never knew I existed.”

“Frost knows everything. However, in this case he overheard some of your snow wolf family discussing the bastard child of his who’d been banished to live alone in the wild. Where is your mother? He expected me to find both of you. Please tell me you don’t live out here alone.”

How much could she tell this stranger? A man who worked for Jack Frost? It wasn’t really any of his business that her mother had raised her out here alone with very little assistance. “She went to town for supplies. She’ll be back tomorrow.” She narrowed her gaze, daring him to mess with her in her mother’s absence.

Suddenly, he chuckled. “Damn. I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Zephyr.” He stood and held out a hand. “And I suppose I should at least verify you are indeed Adonia.” His grin was infectious. “Hate to think I’d drag the wrong woman back to meet her father.” His hand hung in the air, waiting for her to take it.

Adonia stared at his large palm, rough from hard work. She finally remembered her manners and tentatively reached her smaller hand toward his larger one. “You’ve found the right woman, but you’ve lost your mind if you think I’d let anyone
drag
me anywhere.” As her skin touched his, she sucked in a sharp breath. His warmth radiated through her fingers and traveled up her arm, filling her entire body with . . . peace. She jerked out of his grasp when something awoke deep inside her. Lust?

Although Adonia had met few men in her life and had limited experience with other people, shifters or human, she wasn’t ignorant. Her mother had raised her well, educated her both academically as well as worldly.

Zephyr chuckled again. “Perhaps
drag
was a poor word choice. I’m not in the habit of coercing women against their will.”

“Good to know.” She rubbed her hands on her jeans. She couldn’t shake the feelings he’d evoked just moments ago. She squeezed her legs together. Her sexual awareness had made itself known as soon as she’d first caught his scent in the wind, but now that he’d touched her, she was shaking with the desire for more.

More than enough time to rescue a pampered fae and return a deadly Guardian weapon.

No sweat.

Yeah right.

Evelina adjusted her clothing and glanced around. She couldn’t see her dog anywhere. Huskies were fantastic dogs, but not the most obedient.

“Damn dog,” she whispered. “Maddox?” Evelina didn’t dare raise her voice—not with magic so heavy on the air she could practically taste it. Only fitting that at this time of year the flavor was warm sugar cookies and pumpkin pie. Not traditional Russian fare, but she’d never been much for tradition.

Silence.

Her heart beat painfully as fear danced over her nerves.

“Maddox?” she said a little louder.

Evelina cast her beam of light around, searching for a flash of tail, the glow of his eyes, or some other sign of where he’d gone. His tracks were small, and his ability to stay on top of the snow was so good that any paw print would be wiped away almost immediately. Evelina stabbed her pole into the powder and put on a little speed. No one could get into trouble faster than Maddox. She loved and hated that about him.

Ahead of her, a dog whined.

Maddox.

Her heart clenched, and she tasted bile.

Evelina did her best to run through the powder, but it sucked her feet down deep and held her there with each step. She pushed through a low hedge of brush and into a clearing. Three creatures with vaguely human forms gleamed under her light like freshly polished glass. They held Maddox down, their fanged mouths thrown open in ecstasy as they sucked the warmth and moisture from the husky.

Evelina had tended to the poor souls the zombies had left in their wake at the Snow Palace. Frozen husks of the fae she’d known.

Fucking ice zombies.

“No!” Evelina swung one trekking pole and knocked the closest zombie off Maddox. She kicked the second back against a rock, and the creature shattered.

Well, that was unexpected.

Maddox scrambled to his feet, growling and snapping his mouth at the third, who couldn’t seem to decide who to go after—Maddox, or her.

All around them, shadows began to move, and the sound of groans and moaning broke the pristine night.

Adrenaline and fear shot through her. She reached out and touched the snow, driving all the magic left within her bones into the fresh powder. It hardened into a disc of ice. Evelina jumped on it and grabbed Maddox’s harness as he circled close to her, his fangs bared at the ambush. Her flashlight dangled from her wrist, casting drunken pools of light around them and illuminating more horrors in the night. The husky didn’t wait for her command. He charged ahead, pulling her ice sled along as he’d done a million times.

Maddox snapped at a zombie who got too close, and Evelina used her trekking poles to bludgeon the creatures away. The snow thinned, revealing the crystal limbs and icy stares. There were more. Lots more.