Mated to the Wolf (3 page)

“Did you ever pause to think that maybe your father’s nature drew that killer to the house next door?”

“He changed when he married my mother. He wasn’t evil.”

Grayson stepped closer, forcing her to sit on the bed. “Like attracts like, darkness attracts darkness. When he wasn’t playing house, he sacrificed animals to keep his power alive. It drew evil straight to the source and suddenly that nice small town wasn’t so nice anymore.”

The venison stew in her stomach curdled. “It’s all lies.”

He leaned over her, caging her with his arms on either side of her body. Warm breath tickled her cheek, smelling of mints and whiskey.

“Sometimes we choose to ignore what our family does because it cuts too deep. But truth is truth.”

Insight came as the white light inside her hummed, pushing aside her demon half. Samantha reached up with one hand, hovering above his marred cheek. “Is that what happened to you, Grayson? Did you get that scar from someone in your family cutting too deeply?”

The Hunter yanked away, his mouth a narrow slash. “Keep out of my personal business, Samantha. This isn’t about me.”

“You’re butting into mine.” Sensing Grayson’s weakness, the demon nudged aside the angelic half.

“It’s my job. I’m a slave to duty. It’s what kept me ticking all these years.”

The jeering sarcasm hid something. She wondered what evil he’d witnessed all his years on this earth, what tragedy of human misery and suffering. Compassion filled her. She wanted to touch him, soothe away the strain on his face.

As she reached out, he jerked away. She dropped her hand with a shaky sigh. Getting close to this wolf was dangerous. He could derail her from keeping a sacred promise. No matter. Soon enough, she’d be on her way.

Grayson’s expression shuttered. “It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

Without saying anything, she went to the window, lifted the curtain. Freezing rain pelted the glass. She felt stronger, but the weather would wear her down fast.

Samantha turned, saw him tug the shirt over his head, exposing a hard male chest darkened with springy hairs. Fascination spiraled through her as she stared at his well-defined pectorals and flat stomach rippling with muscles. Low in her belly, a strange tugging ensued.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I always sleep naked.”

Her breath caught in her throat as he unzipped his jeans, pulled them down. Commando. Crisp dark hairs surrounded a long, thick penis, impressive even at rest. She stared, transfixed.

Grayson shrugged out of his pants. He regarded her, as comfortable in his nudity as a wolf in his skin. “Get undressed, Samantha. Now.”

“No. I’d rather walk naked through a snowstorm than sleep with you, wolf.”

Gray eyes the color of steel danced with amusement. “Did I say anything about sleep?”

Samantha glared at him. “We are not having sex.”

“Not now.” He gave another of those sexy, crooked smiles and went to a closet. He belted on a black robe. Samantha sighed in relief. Not that the view wasn’t nice but it was too damn distracting.

Grayson snagged a white robe off a hanger and tossed it at her. “Get undressed and put this on. Your body is sore and has been through too much. You need a soak in the tub. A little pampering will help you relax.”

After a week of tepid showers, the thought of a hot bath made her mouth water. Samantha eyed him warily. “Why are you interested in my welfare?

“It’s not your welfare that has my interest, fair maiden.” He wagged his brows and she nearly laughed. Grayson was dangerously charming.

When he left the bedroom, she remained, taking the opportunity to study her prison. The bedroom had pine furniture and lamps made from elk antlers. Blue-and-green checked curtains added to the masculine look. But when she tried opening a window, she found it jammed. Painted shut. Or warded with magick.

Grayson returned. “Your bath is ready. I suggest you make good use of it while the water’s hot.”

Since she was stuck here for now, the wolf obviously knew a bath would relax her when she needed to remain alert and sharp. The wolf was no dummy. But the temptation proved too much. Samantha picked up the robe and marched down the hallway to the bathroom.

A large sunken marble tub sat on a platform beside a glass window showing a silver vista of frost-covered meadow. Little bouquets of flowers in his bathroom were incongruous with Grayson’s rugged masculine appearance. Then again, everything about Grayson seemed incongruous.

Steam curled from the water and the scent of vanilla hovered in the air. Crowing with delight, she stepped inside the bathroom. Samantha firmly closed the door, shrugged out of her clothing and hung the robe on a brass hook.

Why would a powerful Ancient, and a bounty hunter, be interested in pampering her? Why didn’t he simply shoot her, or torture her and then drag her into the Society to collect his money?

Before enjoying the tub, she took a quick, hot shower, scrubbing away two days’ worth of road grime.

Then she, combed her hair and headed for the tub. Bubbles popped and crackled as Samantha stepped into the foamy water. She sank down with a happy sigh, leaned back against the tub, letting the warmth work into her aching muscles and tired limbs. Once she’d had a home as expansive as this, with all the bubble baths she wanted. Not a life spent hiding in fear from those who wanted to hurt her for being a Darklighter.

A lump clogged her throat as she remembered peeking through the partly opened closet door to see her father gasping his last, his arms around her mother. Blood trickling across the hardwood floor to pool at her feet. Her fist stuffed into her mouth to stop her screams…

Cloaked by shadows in the dimly lit room, the killer’s face had been hidden. But she would never forget her mother screaming out in terror, “No, please not Jerome Cabot!”

Before the Hunter drew his knife and cut her throat.

Tears burned the back of her eyes. Samantha blinked them away, refusing to surrender to grief. That night she’d sworn a vow to her dead father to find this Jerome, the Hunter who had taken their lives.

Nearly carving the Fae in half had put a price on her head. But the Fae had been arrogant, and dismissive when Samantha asked about finding Jerome. And then the Fae had taunted her about her parents, how they had deserved their fate. Even suggested Samantha should suffer the same.

The taunts had caused her demon to rage out of control. She’d gone into a trance and came out of it with blood on her hands, feathers everywhere and the shrieks of the Fae’s pain echoing in her ears.

But her demon had gotten the important information, revealed only after the Fae got acquainted with Samantha’s sharp talons and her knife. Jerome was in this area of Colorado. When she found him, the Hunter would suffer.

Suffer in agony as her parents had.

Samantha closed her eyes, willing away her need for vengeance. Warmth stole into her bones, making her drowsy.

A sudden splash jerked her awake. Grayson stood by the tub, an amused, crooked smile playing on his firm mouth. Her pulse jumped at the sight of him. His inky dark hair was mussed, and the fleece robe did not begin to cover his strong calves. The intimacy of his large, nearly naked presence caused an odd thrum in her body.

In the water floated a small yellow rubber duck.

“Thought you’d like some company.” He sat on the tub’s lip.

Grateful for the covering of bubbles, she nodded at the duck. “I usually don’t bathe with a toy.”

“But I do.” He stood and shrugged out of the robe. A hank of dark hair spilled across his forehead as he gave her an intent look. She gazed upward and her eyes widened. His penis had been soft before, but now jutted out from his body, thick and hard. Heat spiraled between her legs.

Water sloshed as he stepped into the tub. Samantha gave a small squeak and curled up her legs, hooking her arms around them.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I needed a hot soak before bed.” He leaned against the opposite end, grinning at her.

His powerful sexuality wrapped around her like a cloak. Tendrils of his scent threaded through the air, a delicious smell that spoke of warmth, protection and a fierce loyalty. Samantha’s pulse pounded hard as he stretched out his arms on either side of the tub. His broad shoulders were layered with muscle, and assorted scars puckered the sun-kissed skin. Grayson’s body was rugged and spoke of an outdoor life. But his face was chiseled like sculpted marble, the gray eyes large with sweeping lashes beneath heavy black brows. Except for the scar, he would be beautiful as an angel.

A deadly angel.

He watched her, those gray eyes filled with a dark hunger. His gaze made her feel open, yearning for something she didn’t dare explore.

Samantha glanced down at the water. She saw a vision; his powerful body lowered over hers, his legs entangled with hers as they made fierce love, sweat slicking their bodies. Grayson groaning her name, fisting his hand in her long hair as he tipped her head back for a possessive kiss.

Samantha. My mate
.

No! She slapped the bubbles.

She wasn’t anyone’s mate and she was determined to remain a virgin. Samantha had known about the powers she’d inherited on her twenty-first birthday two months ago, the reason why the Society wanted her found. Fearing they would be compromised if she made love, she’d shunned men. Never wanted one, either.

Until now.

“I have to get out of here. This tub, I mean. I can’t be here with you. I can’t.”

She hated the quiver in her voice, the betraying nervousness in her hands. The towel was too far away. She’d have to expose her nudity to him. Samantha thought of a stone castle to block her thoughts. She knew she’d have to escape tonight. She could not spend the night here, not with this Ancient and his open hunger for her.

Could not trust herself to fight it.

“Samantha.” His voice was quiet and steady. “I would never hurt or force you.”

“You’re a Hunter and a werewolf. Two creatures not exactly known for restraint.”

“I’m an Ancient, and my control is legendary. Even my sexual control.”

Her hands squeezed together. “And what I saw means you are in perfect control. Right.”

“I can’t help my body’s reaction. I want you. But that doesn’t mean I follow my base instinct and let my wolf take over.”

“Let him take over and do what?”

Grayson’s voice went husky. “Make love to you until dawn. I’d run my tongue over your skin, marking you with my scent, before making you mine. And then I would give you such intense pleasure that your body will never long for another. And if another male even dares attempt to hurt you, I would give my body and my blood to keep you safe.”

Her heart gave an unexpected thump. She’d been on her own for so long, she’d grown accustomed to being alone, having to fend for herself. Now this Ancient, who could rip cars apart with his hands, was declaring his vow of protection. Not a lightly given oath.

“Why are you doing this?” she whispered. “I’m a Darklighter, your enemy.”

Grayson flicked a soap bubble. “Because you can be saved. You must be saved.” His gaze was steady and brilliant as sun glinting off steel. “I will not see you fall beneath their fangs and claws, torn slowly to pieces, your powers absorbed by those with less than honorable intentions.”

“They who?”

“The Hunters the Society will dispatch if you leave the protection of my home.” Muscles in his shoulders went taut. “That’s what will happen to you, Samantha. So you see, we have to become lovers. Because if we don’t, you will die. It’s as simple as that.”

“That’s a hell of a choice.” Samantha stared at Grayson in shocked disbelief.

“A choice better than a cruel, painful death. They will find you. The Society suspended the bounty on your head only because I agreed to mate you.”

His mouth was beautiful for a man’s, she thought wildly. Full, firm lips, crooked upward slightly at the left from his scar. A beautiful mouth that delivered such a grim ultimatum.

A mouth that would deliver passionate, demanding kisses. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, she thought. Maybe her powers wouldn’t diminish that much, and if they waned a little, there was always weaponry.

“And once we mate, what then? I’m free to go?”

“No. We must stay together.”

“Because your Society won’t trust me on my own?”

“Because I never let go of what is mine.”

The raw possessiveness in his deep voice startled her. His energy shimmered in the air with the strong musk of masculine need. Grayson’s gaze was steady upon her as Samantha hugged her knees tighter.

“But I won’t be yours. And I’m not exactly the type of person who makes a meek, obedient wife,” she warned.

“You will be mine,” he said softly. “My kind mate for life. When we agree to take a mate, we don’t walk away. As for meek and obedient…”

His broad smile startled her with its genuine warmth. “Boring. And you’re anything but.”

“You don’t know me.”

“You like to eat sushi, but leave off the wasabi. You’ve never owned a car, but had several racing bikes, crashed some of them. Your mother homeschooled you and your sisters until middle school. You enjoy meeting new people and make friends fast, and people are attracted to your lively energy. Favorite things include rock climbing, racing old cars on lonely country roads, dancing until dawn, sappy romantic comedies, collecting antique angels, and playing with fire on cold nights.”

A bright orange red flame shot from her opened mouth. It licked the ceiling, then rolled back onto her tongue.

Samantha sat back, giving him a smug look. It covered her shock over how many intimate details he’d collected about her.

“Very impressive. Must come in handy for weenie roasts.” His expression grew intent. “One more thing. You’ve never been with a man, mostly because you fear your powers will diminish. But sex can’t diminish your magick.”

Her mouth opened, then closed. “How do you know?”

“The Society made it a point of studying your sisters, after they lost their virginity. They’ve kept tabs on all three of you.”