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Chapter 5
The dim light of a table lamp cut through the shadows. Rebel leaned against the bedroom doorway, his Stetson hiding the scarred half of his face as he raked his gaze over her. As soon as Lily Grey had flicked the light on, she’d scrambled to her feet. She stood at her bedside, wearing little more than a thin, pink nightgown and clutching a large hardcover book from her nightstand like a weapon.
He shook his head.
Despite her pure Grey Wolf bloodline, by both wolf and human standards she was petite, which meant physically armed with knowledge or not, she wouldn’t hold her own in a fight against an alpha like him.
But if looks could kill…
She snarled at him. “What the hell are you doing here?”
As if he hadn’t made a habit of sneaking into her room hundreds of times before. He shook his head. He’d known when they’d met in the vampires’ cells that she didn’t recognize him. Twenty years and a
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What he wouldn’t give to see her enjoy just a taste of it.“And what about you? What saint are you to point out my flaws?” she asked. “How are my sins any worse than yours?” She counted off his crimes on her fingers. “Thievery, bribery, extortion, breaking and entering… I’m sure I’m missing some.”“You forgot grand larceny, but I’ll excuse it this time.” He grinned. Her list only touched the tip of the iceberg, but the challenge in her eyes stirred something low in his belly. He rose to his feet. “But there’s one key difference between you and me, Princess.”She bristled at the nickname again.Slowly, he stepped toward her, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t pretend to be the good guy.”Her eyes flashed to her wolf. She was a spitfire, and he liked that more than he cared to admit.“If you didn’t
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Lily held the blade steady. “What are you offering?” she asked.Apparently, she hadn’t learned her lesson after making a deal with him the first time. She watched the Rebel with wary eyes, careful of any sudden movement he made. She didn’t think he was here to hurt her, but she was smart enough not to fully trust him either.She wasn’t about to underestimate a wolf like him.He straightened from where he leaned against the counter to his full height until he towered over her. All long limbs corded with muscle. He moved with the languid grace of a predator. She’d only seen that kind of movement from a handful of the strongest Grey Wolf alpha warriors. The warriors with the darkest pasts and the most enemy deaths to their name.“The kind of deal that gets you allies far more powerful than Alexander,” he answered.He stepped into the dim glow of the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window and Lily g
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What had she gotten herself into? Lily swallowed—hard—as Rebel tugged on the reins. His deep voice wrapped around her, smooth as velvet.“Almost there now,” he said.Those were the first words he’d spoken to her since they’d escaped Wolf Pack Run. For the past several hours, they’d ridden in silence, only the late-night sounds of the forest and the bright summer moonlight guiding their way. Cradled in the darkness and with the gentle sway of the horse beneath her, she’d lost herself in the passing of the trees, so much so that she’d almost allowed herself to forget the mysterious wolf at her back.She had no such comfort now.As his horse slowed, Rebel dismounted, making quick work of removing his remaining weaponry from the leather saddlebag. Lily watched as he retrieved three extra blades. He slipped one into each boot before he passed the third to her. “For protection,” he grumbled. &ldq
Wolf's Desire Chapter 9
Lily had never been to the ocean before, yet she felt the waves beneath her in a gentle, swaying movement. The water was warm, and the waves wrapped around her like a pair of powerful arms. An unfamiliar voice echoed from beneath the surface, bubbling from within the deep, muffled and distant.Anthony.At the name, she instantly stiffened. She was twelve again, barely a woman, and the sharp hands of her mother were pulling her, tearing her away. She was screaming, pleading, yet her cries fell on deaf ears. She needed to find him, to save him, to tell him she loved him, but she couldn’t move.He’s dead, her conscience answered.The water around her grew cold with her guilt. The ocean stilled like the eerie calm in the eye of a storm. Lily struggled to breathe as the water pressed in around her, threatening to swallow her as she drowned in its depths.Anthony was dead, which meant she might as well be too. The waves whispered in a crashin
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Rebel tipped off his Stetson and swiped the sweat from his brow. Damn, it was hotter than Hades. It was dusk, and the summer sun had long since begun to set. Bright tinges of pink and orange clouded the western sky over the blue-ridged Idaho mountains in the distance. Normally, he and the crew would have turned in by now, but they’d lengthened their work hours during the summer, using the extra daylight to their advantage, and even though it had been close to day’s end after his and Murtagh’s security meeting, he’d come back out to the pasture.He never felt right turning in before his ranch hands did.“You headed in?” Boone, his young work companion for the day, asked as he sauntered out of the barn and toward the waiting truck.Frenchie would already have dinner ready, and since the classically trained chef had joined their ragtag band of misfits, Boone, a young rebel who wasn’t a day over nineteen, never missed dinner w
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Lily ran until her feet ached and all four of her legs threatened to give out beneath her. The nighttime summer breeze blew, ruffling the fur of her coat. It caused a chill to prickle her haunches, though she was far from cold. She paused to catch her breath and glanced up at the night sky. The stars twinkled over the vast landscape, their brightness only obscured by the light of the full moon. Even in the shadows of the towering pines, she could see everything clearly, the moonlight and her wolf senses illuminating her path. She inhaled a deep breath of mountain air. The adrenaline that coursed through her veins caused her to pant with excitement. She’d escaped. She’d actually escaped.And courtesy of a rope made of bedsheets at that.There was still a slight ache in her skull from the healing head injury, but what little pain remained was nearly gone. In a moment of daring, she threw back her head and howled. The release of tension felt so good that, had
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There was no doubt in Rebel’s mind that death lingered over him. Pain searedthrough his chest, the sting of torn flesh and bone intensifying with each breath he drew until he became convinced he’d rather not breathe at all. He could feel the heated rush of blood leaving his body, the intense chill its absence left behind. Every second drew him closer to the inevitable, closer to darkness, until, for a moment, he was certain he saw the face of the angel of death himself.Hello, old friend.He greeted death warmly, as they’d been acquainted many times before. More than once, Rebel had drawn so close to death that even in his waking hours, he could recall the sensation. First, the absence of thirst, hunger, need. The loss of his vision and voice came next, followed shortly by the absence of sound and touch until he was floating in an endless ocean of emptiness. The waves rising faster than the tide until suddenly, he was carried out to sea. His b
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Wicked—that was the title Lily would give the portrait she wanted to draw of him. As Rebel turned back toward her, moonlight reflected on his face, making him all hard lines and sharp angles. Between the hollows of his cheekbones and the puckered ridges of his scars, he looked like a man who’d been through hell and back, a man who’d walked through the veil of shadows yet survived. Everything about him was testimony to power and hardened will, to wild, feral darkness. The contrast made him breathtaking.She didn’t believe that his real name was Rebel, but from the way he’d nearly growled it at her seconds ago, she wasn’t going to press the issue. If he wanted to be called that, so be it.She watched as he leaned against the window, staring out into the darkness. She’d never longed for her art supplies as much as she did now. This man knew survival, the kind most beings—human or otherwise—had never been forced to endu
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