Lycan Redemption (13 page)

“Please, Galen!” she sobbed as her impending orgasm repeatedly intensified and receded, growing stronger each time.

“Come for me, angel.” The low rumbling of his words vibrated against her clit.

“I want you inside me! Please!”

But it wasn’t meant to be because one more wicked stroke of that tongue and deep slide of those clever fingers pushed her into that free fall she’d been barreling toward. Her orgasm ripped through her, and she screamed as every muscle in her body clenched and unclenched wave after wave. She sobbed as he continued to coax every last spasm, every last ripple from her with his mouth. When the waves finally died down to a sporadic body-racking shiver here and there, he gave her one last lick before pulling her into his arms.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

“You have no idea how much I want you, but I can’t. Not until we talk.” He nuzzled her hair, kissed her head, and breathed deeply.

“Then talk, because I want to make love with you.” She sat up and turned to face him.

He sighed before sitting up, and she blushed when he tucked himself back into his jeans. He was still hard, and had trouble buttoning the buttons. Served him right, she thought, but instantly felt guilty thinking that. He didn’t want to be with her until he confessed this big secret of his. He was obviously trying to be a gentleman. Or was he?

God, she was confused right now. She had no idea why Galen wouldn’t make love to her, but it definitely had something to do with whatever he needed to tell her. What could be bad enough that he couldn’t make love to her before confiding in her? She refused to speculate on it all night.

She stood, and nearly fell over before getting her jelly-like legs under control. “Tell me.”

He got up and held his hand out in invitation. When she hesitantly took it, he led her outside to the bench in front of the barn. She plopped down before he slowly sank to the seat beside her.

“There are things about me you need to know, but I’m not sure how to tell you this.”

“We’ve all done stupid things in our lives. We all make mistakes. I won’t think any less of you. Unless, of course, you’re a serial killer or something.” She giggled nervously. When he didn’t answer, her stomach clenched in one big knot. “Oh my God! You aren’t, are you?”

“No. I’m not a serial killer.” He chuckled. “You are safe with me.”

“Whatever you have to tell me, I promise I won’t go running off like some terrified dumb blonde in a bad horror flick.”

“You sure about that?” When he turned to face her, his eyes were glowing once again.

“Why do they do that? Your eyes? Why do they glow? How is that even possible?”

“I was wondering when you would ask.”

“All the other times, I was a bit preoccupied.”

“I’m not like you. I’m different.” He frowned.

“We are all different. That’s how it is.”

“No. I’m
really
different. Damn it. I don’t want to frighten you, but I have to tell you for your own protection.”

She was getting scared, and truthfully, the thought of running off like the dumb blonde in the horror flick was beginning to look appealing.
Stop it.
Whatever it was it couldn’t be that terrible. Lots of people who thought they had big, bad secrets who were afraid to tell anyone for fear of being rejected or ridiculed, found out that whatever it was was not so bad after finally saying it out loud. Maybe Galen was simply turning a molehill into a mountain. Although he didn’t strike her as the overdramatic type.

She fidgeted with her dress. Suddenly her previously dampened instincts—probably due to the overwhelming orgasm she’d had—kicked in hard. The knot in her stomach grew tighter, and she had to fight to keep her breathing calm to avoid hyperventilating. Dread descended upon her in the form of an invisible black cloak that draped over her entire body. She fought the need to run, somehow sensing running would be the worst thing she could do.

He was watching her with those mesmerizing eyes as if he could read every emotion, every thought going through her brain. Her muscles tensed as her body prepared itself for a quick getaway. But why? Galen would not hurt her. That had not changed.
Maybe not physically, but what he’s about to tell me will change me forever.

She stood, walked to a section of the wooden pasture fence only a few feet from the barn, and leaned against it before doing something ridiculous like breaking out in a fit of hysterical laughter. He came up beside her and leaned his arms on the top rail. She had to settle for the middle rail with her shorter frame.

“It’s quiet out tonight. I don’t hear crickets or anything,” she said, trying to distract herself from the foreboding thoughts assaulting her.

Suddenly he froze. He was so close she felt his muscles tense. He stood straight and gripped the top rail before cocking his head to the side and staring into the darkness of the tree line yards away. He sniffed at the air, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

“Myka, I want you to slowly turn from me and go to the house. Lock the doors and windows, turn out all of the lights, and find a place to hide.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?” She backed away from him slowly.

He turned to her, and she nearly tripped over her own feet. His eyes shined brighter than she’d ever seen, and pointy teeth peeked from below his top lip. His fingernails appeared to have grown longer as well.
No. No! I’m imagining things. I’ve gotten so worked up over, over. . . whatever, that I’m seeing things that aren’t there.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a not-so-gentle shake.

“Snap out of it,” he snarled.

She winced. The teeth were definitely real. “What the fuck is going on?” She rarely cussed, but this was the perfect time for it if there ever was one.

“Listen to me!” he said in a low, commanding voice. “Do what I said. Go inside. Lock the doors and windows. Turn off all of the lights, find a hiding place, and don’t make a sound.”

She turned to do what he said because was it really worth arguing with him at this point? He obviously thought something was wrong, and her warning bells were clanging like Sunday church bells as well. The shit-was-about-to-go-down fog in the air was so thick it nearly choked her, and she was pretty certain she didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it. She gasped when he grabbed her shoulder and spun her back around to face him.

“Iron. That is our only weakness. Find something with iron in it. If you are found, use it. It may save your life.”

“Your only weakness? What the hell are you talking about?” She scrambled backward toward the house when he released her.

“Lycan, Myka. I’m a Lycan. More are coming.”

Her brain screamed that it wasn’t possible, but her feet didn’t care to argue or listen to reason as she ran toward the house full speed, not caring that he’d told her to go slow. She reached the front door, slammed it shut behind her, and locked it. She hurriedly checked the windows in each room before shutting the lights off and bolting the back door.

Iron? Where was she going to get iron? She hurried to the fireplace and grabbed one of the antique pokers before running down the hallway to the bathroom. She locked the door and climbed into the tub before pulling the shower curtain closed. It was probably one of the first places someone would look, but she didn’t have many options in the old farmhouse.

The closets were all overstuffed, and the attic floor needed to be replaced in several spots, which made it dangerous under the best circumstances. The cellar was out since the only access was outside, not to mention she wasn’t sure how she’d fair cramped in the dank, dark space with all the creepy crawlies that normally resided there. At least the bathroom had a window, which served as a possible escape route. She cautiously peered outside toward the pasture.

Her breath immediately lodged in her throat, where it felt as if it would be stuck forever. Even though it was dark out, the sky was clear, and the moon and stars lit up the night with a soft glow. Running out of the tree line, across the pasture, toward Galen were three of the biggest wolves she’d ever laid eyes upon. Before she had time to process what she was seeing, she focused on Galen. When he glanced toward the house, she had to stifle a scream as his fingers contorted into claws He raised his head, and the pointy teeth she’d glimpsed peeking from under his top lip became long, thick canines.

Lycan? As in werewolves?
Oh my God. I’m going to die here tonight.
When Galen, or whatever the hell he was, ran into the barn, she slid down into the tub, clutching the iron poker to her chest. She began hyperventilating and fought back the need to heave. At least Patrick wasn’t here. But her heart dropped when she thought of the little boy having to cope with yet another loss.

* * * *

Anger clawed at Galen’s insides. They’d found him, and now his selfishness had put his mate in danger. He’d led them right to Myka. Now there was no choice left. He’d have to kill his own kind to keep the woman he loved safe. A new wave of anger ripped through him with a shuddering force. He hadn’t had time to ease Myka into the idea of what he was. He hadn’t had the chance to comfort her, to prove to her that he wasn’t a monster. Now she was alone and probably scared out of her mind. She’d never forgive him, and he couldn’t really blame her.

He unlatched the locks on the horses’ stalls and let them out. The strong smell of the wolves, and upcoming fight, would frighten them. He didn’t want to take a chance of them injuring themselves in a confined place. After they all ran from the barn, he walked back to the yard, where the wind picked up as if anxious to participate in the impending battle.

The long claws that had sprung from his fingertips itched, along with the four-inch fangs protruding from his mouth. Only ancients could partially change, and he preferred to fight this way. He’d counted four wolves running from the tree line before he’d entered the barn, but now only three surrounded him. He’d have to watch his back for the ambush that was sure to follow.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, boys. You should have left me alone. I didn’t do anything to any of you,” Galen said calmly, hoping to finally talk some sense into the relentless fuckers.

Suddenly the brown wolf in the middle shifted to human form. The muscled, dark-haired man stood several feet away with his glowing eyes trained on Galen, as if waiting for him to make any threatening move.

“Raping and torturing potential mates is definitely
doing something
to us. It is unacceptable,” he said with a low voice.

“I agree.” Galen glanced over his shoulder, still waiting for the missing wolf to attack. “What does that have to do with me?”

“We have reason to believe that you’ve committed these acts. Since you are an ancient, you are aware that that crime is punishable by death.” Claws shot from the fingertips of the man’s hands.

“Since you are an ancient,” Galen growled, “you are aware that it is highly unusual for one to commit such heinous acts on potential mates, or any human for that matter. You have the wrong man.”

“Why did you run then?”

“Because I don’t answer to anyone. Especially for things I did not do. Last I checked, we didn’t have a ruler. I’m not under anyone’s command. Therefore, you have no right to hunt me.”

“We have the right to hunt anyone who we believe harms potential mates.”

“As I’ve said, you’re
barking
up the wrong tree here. Leave, and we’ll call this a misunderstanding. A six-month-long pain-in-the-ass misunderstanding.”

The man shook his head.

Galen didn’t figure it would be as easy as that. “I’m at a disadvantage. Seems you know a lot about me, yet I know nothing about you.”

“My name is Brent Falls. I run Sanctuary along with several others in Michigan.”

“I’ve heard of Sanctuary.” That solidified any doubt he may have had about who was responsible for this mess. Terrance was going to die when he got a hold of him. “Well, Brent, as I’ve said, you have wasted a lot of time and manpower chasing after something that isn’t there. I would appreciate it if you would leave me and cease your chase now.”

“Can’t do that.” Brent sniffed the air.

Galen’s blood ran cold.

“You keeping her hostage?” Brent snarled.

Galen growled low in warning. “Do not think to touch her. If you do, I promise I will do my best to kill you all.”

“Bring her out so we can see that she is unharmed,” Brent said.

“No offense, but I don’t know you or any of your little buddies. I’m not risking her.”

“We aren’t leaving until this is settled.”

“Then I guess it’s going to get bloody, because as far as I’m concerned, it’s settled now,” Galen answered.

Suddenly, the attack came from behind as he’d expected. He twisted, but was a millisecond too slow, and the big wolf knocked him to the ground. He leapt up into a crouch and knocked the wolf sideways when it made another go at him. That’s when things got real nasty.

Brent partially shifted and rushed him with the other two wolves hot on his heels. Galen twisted from his grasp, but was unable to fully recover before one of the other wolves slammed into him from the side. Galen went down hard on his hands and knees, and before he could recover, he was jumped from every direction.

Galen punched, tore, and bit at his attackers. Fur flew, blood spattered, and grunts—a lot of his own—rent the calm night for what seemed like hours. Although, in reality, it had been only a few minutes since the fight ensued, Galen’s body began to tire. He was holding his own, but he was heavily outnumbered. If there had been even one fewer of them, he’d have a shot, but he was determined to give them as good as he got. He wouldn’t go down without ripping a few chunks of ass to take as a souvenir.

Galen’s ribs were battered until he thought every last one had to be cracked, and it was getting hard for him to breathe. Finally, he was thrown to the ground facedown. A knee was planted firmly in the middle of his back, and his arms were wrenched behind him. Fury beat at him, and he waited for the last bit of adrenaline he had left to rush him.