Whenever I needed a break, he told me all about his pack. About his parents who had died a few years ago. He told me about the different shifters he had under his command, about the cubs that were soon to be born and the ones who were going from sweet-cheeked kids to sulky teenagers.
He told me stories about the surrounding packs, who led them, and what the politics were and his role in them. He explained what really happened to the sheriff and about Talin’s recovering children, and I cried and told Wyatt that I wanted to thank them in person. They quite possibly saved my life that night. He told me lore and fairytales that were told to him as a child, and shared some truly harrowing stories about wizards.
He explained more about what a mate meant to a shifter, and how when mates touched for the first time, a painful, identical mark would flare up instantly—which is where our matching diamonds came from. I soaked up everything he told me like a sponge. This was a whole new world, one where I not only might have a place in it, but someone had rolled out a red carpet for me.
In exchange, I told him things I could remember from childhood, all of the strange, sweet, and unforgettable characters I'd met while being dragged from town to town. I focused on the entertaining stories, the ones that you share over a drink with friends and laugh good-naturedly about. But the more questions he asked, the darker some of my reflections were, and it wasn't long before I could feel the anger in him. “I hate that you went through these things as just a child. This is not what my parents wanted.”
“There were some close calls, but no one ever laid a hand on me. In that way, compared to some of the other people I've met in my life, I had a damn good deal.”
“Everyone has a damn good deal when you sent the bar low enough it’s buried in the ground,” he grumbled, but let it go for now. “Anyway, I’m going to make dinner. Keep practicing?”
“Throw in a bottle of wine if there’s any,” I yelled after his retreating back. “Wine solves everything.”
Chapter Nine
Outside Seyville, Nebraska
Wyatt
“Stay where you are,” Nyria had told me before Cara had her wake-up-screaming nightmare. “William pissed off a cell of wizards trying to infiltrate them. A batch came for Talin but they’re six feet under now. We’ve tracking down and eliminated as many as we can, but if your mate can’t shift, it puts both of you in danger.”
“And her old job and apartment?”
“The bar’s fine. Her apartment was broken into, but her roommates managed to scare off whoever it was. Smelled like a human. We’re going to get her stuff out of there, set up her roommates in another place to keep them safe from crossfire.”
I hung up knowing she wasn’t going to be thrilled about me moving her out of her apartment, but there was no way in hell she’d be anywhere but at my side after this. I needed to keep her safe.
Dinner for tonight was mashed potatoes, pork chops, and some frozen vegetables I tried to sauté and spice some life into. I floated the idea of a delicious rabbit stew—I had all the ingredients handy—but Cara's initial enthusiasm vanished pretty fast when she realized that when I said I can get some rabbit, I meant more of the shift-and-hunt-down variety rather than the, it's-already-in-the-freezer variety.
“You do realize that if it were in the freezer, it got there because it was also killed,” I pointed out.
“There's a difference between it showing up neatly packaged in my hands, and seeing you prance back in here with some bloody pile of fur in between your teeth.”
“Does that sound the smallest bit hypocritical to you?”
“Absolutely,” she'd said solemnly. “And I don't give a shit.”
So. No rabbit stew for now.
Over the quick, hearty meal, I told her about Nyria's phone call. “She thinks that they'll be able to swing by with the ‘copter around midnight.” It was seven now. “If they're unable to reach us, there’s a chance we might need to head out on our own if it looks like we’re being targeted. The snow is going to be tough, but it’ll also slow everyone else down as well.” Except for, say, fireball-shooting wizards, but I didn’t want to worry her when it wasn’t necessary.
Her initial enthusiasm over dinner died pretty fast. “If I couldn't even do the initial trek when there was only six inches of snow on the ground, how am I supposed to do it with drifts up to six feet?”
“There'll be lots of patches where the wind has already created an easier path.” No, we were pretty trapped with her being unable to shift. Basement it was.
“I guess.” I had found a bottle of wine, and she chugged the rest of the glass before topping herself off. “Anything we need to do to prep for this?”
“I’ll pack us two bags. Stock them up on some food, medical supplies, spare clothing, and maybe another firearm for you. There's an entire arsenal downstairs.”
“How about you do that, and I'll clean up the kitchen?” She glanced over at the freshly washed pots and pans lined up on the counter. “I have to say, you’re one of the neatest cooks I've ever seen. I feel like I'm ducking all of the hard work.”
“If you want me to leave you more dirty dishes in the future, just let me know.” I had an image of her in my kitchen, wearing nothing but one of my shirts, making coffee while I scrambled some eggs. Of her sitting on the counter with a glass of red, watching me sear a steak. Of me ditching the steak to stand between her legs and show her just how much I loved having her there with me.
She snorted. “Nah, that's okay. I think I can make do with this mess.” She took the last few bites of food before standing up and stretching. The tee she was wearing rode up, and I got a glimpse of strong, lithe muscles.
“You should do that again,” I teased, half-serious.
Her face lit up with a startled, shy smile, and she quickly busied herself with cleaning off the table.
It wasn’t until I was testing out if I could fit another roll of gauze into a bag that I realized she’d stopped cleaning and was leaning against the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, a hurt look on her face. “It’s because of me, isn’t it?”
I straightened, wanting to make her distress go away. “What is?”
“That your pack is coming out here. That we might hide downstairs instead of leaving right now. It’s because I can’t shift. I’ve trapped us here.”
I strode over to her, cupping my hands over her shoulders. “No. No, it isn’t. You’re fine. We’re fine.”
She looked down, twisting the hem of her shirt in between her hands. “I’m really close but… it’s like there’s a block in my mind. Like I’m scared that if I do this, something bad could happen.”
Gently, giving her a chance to say no, I pulled her flush against my body. The breath left her body in a heavy sigh as she practically melted against me, cheek pressed to my chest. Her pulse was racing, but as I wrapped my arms around her and poured a sense of comfort into our connection, her heartrate slowed down to match mine. “What are you scared of?”
She responded slowly. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be on my own two feet. Be independent. Not get dragged down by my father’s schemes. But I don’t know the rules of your world. I don’t fully understand what a mate is. You make it sound like a soulmate thing, but what if it’s not? I don’t want to be controlled. I don’t want to have to play by rules that don’t benefit me. What if being a shifter is even more restrictive than what I had before?”
“Is that what you’ve experienced so far?”
“It’s all so complicated,” she said with a sort of plaintive desperation that broke my heart. “I can’t go back, though.”
“One step at a time,” I said gruffly.
“I want more, though.”
“Then—”
She went on tiptoes and pressed her lips against mine. She lingered, and then backed away, eyes bright and intense.
“Cara,” I breathed.
“Should I have not done that?”
I closed the distance between us, leaned forward to brunch my lips along the soft shell of her ear. She let out a little moan. “I want to touch you. Everywhere.”