Deceiving the Protector (24 page)

“But then you came along and wouldn’t let me hide in my shell anymore. You made me feel. You reminded me I used to have strength. At first I didn’t know what to do. I had to keep you safe but you were destroying every way I knew how to survive my life. I either had to wake up or let you die, and that last one just wasn’t an option I could live with.” She leaned back, pinioning him with her heated glare even while her hand slid over the beard on his cheek. “Don’t you understand? Knowing you, loving you, gave me a reason to claw my way past the fear and fight back. You saved me, even when I didn’t know there was anything left of me to save.”

The absolution in her eyes tempted him almost beyond endurance.

Pure frustration skated over her face. “Why can’t you just understand that I needed to face him? I needed to be the one to end my own nightmare. To know I could protect myself, even if I had to sacrifice my life to protect what meant most to me. That’s something you do all the time. For your family, for your brother and everyone in Resurrection. You, of all people, should understand. If I had to face the rest of my life wondering when Asher might come back, never knowing down to my soul that he was truly gone? That would have destroyed me. I needed to know that I’d paid him back for everything he did to me.” Her gaze flickered, her chin wobbling as she added, “To Laurel.”

He finally let go of her wrist so he could brush his fingers over her cheek. She was right. Look how the guilt of not ending Vayere’s attack had infiltrated his life. Thinking that he’d brought his lover’s wrath down on his family. Lia was as much a protector as he was, as much a fighter. She had every right to need her own restitution and he couldn’t belittle her by not acknowledging that.

“You’re right,” he said softly, lowering his forehead down to hers. The acceptance didn’t take all the self-directed anger away, but it did put some things into perspective. Her hurt outweighed his pride. “I’m sorry, I should have understood.”

“You don’t get to walk away now,” she whispered, but it could have been a shout for the way her words, the determination in her eyes, impacted him. “Do you understand that? Wherever we go, whatever we face, we do it together. I don’t want to be the one you protect. I want to be the one you stand beside. I’m done being less than the man I’m with.”

“No one in their right mind would think you’re less than me.” More, he could understand. She made him want to be more for her.

“We make our decisions together. We face whatever comes next together. Equals. No one gets sheltered, no one gets left behind.”

“Lia—”

“Don’t
Lia
me. It’s a yes-or-no proposal. If I let you talk, you’ll just try to weasel in loopholes.”

He couldn’t help but smile. “Some loopholes are important.”

Her mouth took on that mulish rainbow shape.

“First of all, I am always going to put your life ahead of my own. Even if the bond makes that point moot. That’s who I am. I’m a protector—by nature and by vow. I gave Pale my word I’d protect him and the interests of the pack with my life. A pack that, if you haven’t noticed, includes you. So you can complain all you like about me protecting you—after I believe you’re safe.” Possibly unwise, but he ignored her growl. “I’ve been doing this job a lot longer than you. It’s going to be a while before we’re equals in everything. Since you have this insane belief that you’re indestructible, I’m not going to feel safe putting you on the frontline for so much as the kiddie table until you’ve learned how to defend yourself properly.”

“Like Betha?”

“I think one psychopath in the pack is enough, don’t you?”

A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You’ll really let me fight beside you?”

He nodded. “Eventually.”

The scowl came back in force. “I’m not kidding, Tate.”

“Neither am I. Like I said, this is who I am. If you make the choice to stand with me, you’re also making the choice to be logical while you’re there. To be safe. We all work together and protect one another like a team. No more of your bulletproof-take-the-world-on-my-own bullshit.”

Despite her expression, he could feel her happiness around him like a mist, see it in the glitter in her eyes. “I’d already made that choice when I chose to stay with you after the farmhouse. I wouldn’t have given my life for you if I hadn’t.”

“Yes, you would have.” He closed his eyes to focus on the words and not the lure of her body, of the bond to her soul he wanted more than his next breath. Because this was the most important thing they had to get straight between them. “You’d give your life for anyone in need, Lia. Because you value it, almost more than anyone I know. That’s just the point. I don’t want you trying to get killed every chance you get. You’re supposed to live, dammit. Why can’t you do that for me?”

She drew in a shaky breath. He opened his eyes to stare down at her. Those pink lips of hers parted, all but begging him to take a taste. “Is that what you want? For me to live for you?”

“Yes.”
So I’m a greedy asshole, sue me.
“I want you to live for me, the same way I want to live for you. A real life. A full life. With a home and pups and plans for whatever the hell we want. The kind of life that shifters like us forgot we had a right to.” The right to love, to run, to explore both parts of their heart—the human and the animal—to raise their children without fear or death chasing them at every turn. It didn’t matter at all if those things weren’t part of the era in which they lived. For a few stolen hours, just two stolen lifetimes, he wanted to take what should have been his and hers from birth.

For better or worse, he was going to take them.

“I want you, Lia, all of you. Including the parts you’re afraid of.”

Her eyes widened, her full lips turning into a moue he made a mental note to fully investigate later, when he reached to the back of his collar and dragged his T-shirt up and over his head. Carelessly, he tossed the shirt to the ground and took a few steps back, ready to carry out this demand to its necessary end. She said nothing, so he kept going, unbuttoning his pants and toeing off his shoes. Within seconds he stood before her naked in the high grass, barely shrouded by gently swaying verge.

“I won’t accept less. Because if you can’t accept everything about yourself, you’ll never accept everything about me.”

“What? That you’re a Wolf? That you’re a protector?”

She knew what he meant, he could tell by the fear in her eyes. Fear that had no business in a woman as strong, as amazing, as her. “That I’m yours.”

He let himself have one more taste, his lips fitting over hers, his growl filling her mouth just before his tongue swept inside. He stroked, savoring her taste, willing her to feel his hunger as starkly as he did.

Her hands landed on his arms like a brand, sliding up his shoulders and sinking into his hair as she dueled with him, trying to control the rising passion. But that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted her wild, wanted the Wolf in her heart, in her soul, to be free.

Tearing himself away, he closed his eyes and began the shift.

She’d seen his Wolf form before, but only at night, in the throes of battle. It hadn’t been time to appreciate the sheer beauty of his dark gray pelt and the regal line of his muzzle. A large Wolf with golden eyes, he stared up at her as he dropped his haunches and curled his long bushy tail around his huge paws. He licked his teeth as if he had all the time in the world for her to make up her mind.

As if he were giving her a choice.

But that was the point, she realized with a huff. She had every choice. She could do what he was asking—shift completely, facing her fears and her past, even the pain she thought might still be lurking, taking back her own life and throwing it in with his—or she could walk away. Hold on to the walls she’d built since her parents had died and continue to stifle the Wolf-part of her that he’d awakened.

And lose him.

A warm lick to her fingertips snapped her out of her thoughts.

She looked out at the gold and green hills, the smell of the sun-warmed grass calling to her. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to imagine running through such kinds of fields. Since she’d considered shifting completely.

“It could hurt,” she murmured to herself more than him, but his wet nose pushed up under her hand in reassurance anyway. He didn’t know the agony—she hoped he never would—but there was no way to relay her fears completely. “What if I don’t come through the shift complete?”

A long lick along the inside of her wrist and a sense of warmth surrounding her.

“Why can’t you ask for easy things, Tate?”

The wolfish snort and head shake ruffled his fur through her fingers.
Because I’m not an easy man.

She looked down at him, startled by the thought in her mind that felt more like knowing than a voice. He was getting far too comfortable with that skill. If they completed the bond, would he be able to actually speak to her, no matter what form they took? What else would they find in each other’s minds? In each other’s hearts?

The force of his response couldn’t be ignored. His brows drew together, his ears flattening to the top of his head and his censure so strong it was nearly a taste on her tongue.
There’s only you there, Lia.

She looked down into those golden eyes and sighed. She knew that already. This was as much a risk for him, a man who’d barely survived the deepest betrayal once in his life. Offering himself this way, feeling as he did about failing her, she couldn’t imagine how hard it must be for him to wait so still.

He hadn’t balked when she’d said what she needed. He’d dropped his pride and accepted her…albeit with a few restrictions. He was Tate, after all, not Prince Charming.

“I’m not even sure I remember how.” The last time she’d shifted in truth, she’d been a terrified twenty-one-year-old, still learning how. The most she’d ever done since was to attempt claws. Fear, arousal; those were unconscious triggers. Not the way to willfully enact the shift.

She felt the tug on her jeans, Tate’s teeth pulling at the denim. She sighed. “You seriously want me to stand here naked while I try to figure this out?”

His bark wouldn’t have annoyed her so much if there weren’t a clear canine grin on his face.

“Fine, but don’t think I won’t make you pay for this one way or another, pervert.” She peeled off the shirt, but only because it made sense. If she did manage to shift—and of course, manage another shift back to human form—she’d need clothes afterward. The shoes and jeans came next, all of which followed the shirt into the pile in with his things. Her mood was not improved by his happily wagging tail. She stood, considerably more uncomfortable, the wind blowing her hair around her and no trace of fur to be found.

She squeezed her eyes tight.
Shift, shift, shift…

Not a tingle anywhere. Just warm air currents going up where she didn’t want them. She strained, but pushing her muscles until they hurt didn’t seem the way either.

Tate bumped her leg with his big head, backing up, gently using his teeth to lead her along with him. She followed, watching him for some clue. He lifted his head, slowly closing his eyes, making a show of the motion. Then he ruined it by prancing a little, hopping side to side, as if playing, then running in a small circle.

“Is this the part where I throw the stick or where I follow you to where Timmy fell down a well?”

That just earned her a dirty Wolf glare.

Imagine.

Imagine what? She thought about his movements, her eyes drifting to the gold tall grass all around them. She wanted to run in these stalks, to paw the earth and smell that rich, musty scent of dirt and minerals. She wanted to run, could almost remember the feel of the ground under her paws, her breath rushing in pants and the wind ruffling her fur…

By the time she recognized the sensation of cool water rushing down her back and legs, her stomach turning to jelly for a half second and her vision changing to a stark black and white, she was already shifted. She blinked at Tate, almost disbelieving, her limbs shaky and out of sync.

Nothing seemed broken or in pain. She took a tentative step, trying to gain equilibrium while relief pumped through her veins. She was a Wolf! If she could have danced she would, spinning around so she could see her own silver tail, the brown fur across her back giving her a toasted coloring.

Tate padded closer to rub his muzzle against hers, reminding her that he was there. She barked, overwhelmed with excitement. His head slid beneath her neck, caressing before nipping at her ear then licking her face. Walking backward—showoff—he motioned with his head for her to follow.

Her first real steps were wobbly, trying to get her back legs and her front legs to move together. But by the fourth and fifth, she was able to take a breath and not think so hard about the balance. Tate’s excitement was steadily fueling her own. She tried a bound, her feet slipping out from under her on the landing, but she hardly cared. The smells of the hills were rich in her nose and she couldn’t wait to get to them. Swishing her tail at his nose, she turned and ran through the grass.

He ran next to her, his big tongue lolling out as he rushed ahead. Before long, the grass gave way to open hillside and he was running circles around her, his rangy body brushing up against hers, nipping at her heels. Playing. She’d forgotten what that was like, juking to the side and dashing past another Wolf, tumbling over each other, nipping legs and racing. Soon enough, she wasn’t thinking about her movements at all, streaking up one hill and down the other. She reveled in scents, in the breathless motion, the wind whizzing past her ears and the sun on her fur, the miles disappearing beneath her paws. All the while, Tate was beside her. Not leading, not following. Hours melted away, but that never changed.

If she had her way, it never would.

A copse of trees grew ahead, at the top of a hill, the grass beneath it lush and inviting. She ran for them, settling on her back where the sun dappled the earth through the trees. She wanted to lie there but not like this. She wanted to touch, to be touched, skin to skin, with her mate. Picturing it, pressing her body to his, connecting to him while this wild vitality still laced her blood, sent the familiar wash over her body. An instant later she was changed, stretched out on the grass while Tate pressed his muzzle to her face. She closed her eyes, feeling his nose warm into smooth human flesh, his lips finding hers with hot, open-mouthed kisses.