Silence of the Wolves Page 6

  ‘I carried you.’ Oh, obviously. A naked man carrying a bleeding woman through the streets of Folkestone, like that went unnoticed.

  ‘Well, I’m fine. You can leave now.’

  ‘You’re not fine, Tamriel. And I’m not leaving you.’ God this man was irritating.

  ‘Leyth, if that really is your name. I’m honestly fine. It’s just a scratch. You can leave me now.’

  ‘You’re not.’ To prove a point, he walked over and carefully prodded her stomach. She winced as his fingers met her raw stomach and those damn tears started filling her vision once more. ‘And I can’t leave you.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you know too much.’ Crap. It dawned on her why he was so reluctant to leave. She’d seen him change, shift from wolf to man, though part of her was still insisting that it was a dream, a magic trick. She now knew a very big secret, an incredibly well-hidden secret. One that would make front-page news without a doubt. If she could prove it.

  This man clearly wasn’t going to let her leave here alive if he thought she was going to tell anyone his secret though.

  ‘No I don’t, I don’t know anything.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘I can’t remember anything that happened in the woods, I’m not even sure how I got there.’

  ‘Nice try.’ He flashed her a grin. ‘But you remember running from me, and that means you probably remember why you were running.’ Crap.

  ‘I won’t tell anyone.’

  ‘I know, I won’t let you.’ Double crap.

  ‘So what, you’re just going to keep me hostage in my own house?’

  ‘Until I can work out what to do with you, yes.’

  Panic rippled up her spine. Was he going to kill her? Why the hell had she chased that wolf out into the woods? Her tendency to jump into situations before thinking about them had always gotten her into trouble. Why was she such a stubborn idiot? Now what was she going to do? She was stuck in her own apartment, with a brute who easily swamped her in size, unable to run because she was badly injured.

  ‘Are you going to kill me?’ Tamriel looked the guy straight in the eye. No point in beating around the proverbial bush.

  ‘What?’ The man looked genuinely shocked at her words. ‘Hell, no. Why would I do that?’

  ‘Because I know your secret.’

  ‘Shit. Tamriel, no, I’m not going to kill you.’

  ‘Why not?’ OK, so maybe she shouldn’t be questioning his motives. If he wasn’t going to kill her, she should just leave it at that, right?

  ‘Because.’

  ‘Because what?’ OK, Tam, stop irritating the big man who could rip you apart in a heartbeat. The problem was her stubbornness. Now she was physically unable to run, to save herself, she might as well ask and get answers.

  ‘Tamriel,’ he cautioned her.

  ‘Leyth. If you’re going to kidnap me and keep my against my will in my own home, then you’re damn well going to give me some answers.’

  He blew out a frustrated breath. ‘I know your father.’

  Tam sucked in a sharp breath. And another.

  ‘Like hell you do,’ she hissed eventually. Looking directly into those icy-grey eyes, she willed him to take it back, to cut the crap and tell her the truth but, even as she forced herself through the age-old pain, through the horror she’d felt all the years after losing her father, she sensed no lie in his words. His eyes stayed locked onto hers, open and honest, gleaming with what? Regret?

  ‘Tamriel. I know John Chambers, I know your dad.’

  ‘My dad is dead,’ she spat, wincing as the motion sent pain reverberating through her body.

  ‘He’s not, Tamriel. Your dad left you when you were young because he had to go on a mission for the Council.’

  ‘The what? No. You’re lying. My dad died.’

  ‘Look, I hate that you’re finding out this way. I hate that you have to find out. But your dad left years ago to go under cover for the Council. He went to infiltrate the Circle and no one has seen or heard from him since.’

  ‘Prove it.’

  ‘I…’ He winced. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘Why the hell not?’

  ‘I, uh—’ He motioned to his almost-naked state. ‘I lost my clothes.’

  She snorted. Though it hurt like hell, her body screaming in agony as her stomach moved, it actually felt good to laugh. Not that she would admit it at a time like this. But hell, this man, this crazy kidnapping man, actually made her feel safe. Lord only knew why, but she just couldn’t help but like him a little. She hated that she did, hated everything about her treacherous mind; she wanted to scream in terror, she wanted to run as far and as fast as she could. She wanted to hate him with everything she had.

  But if she was truly honest with herself?

  She didn’t.

  She found herself smiling at him. Although he was scary as hell, he held himself like a man with honour and she could see him doing everything he physically could to seem as non-threatening as possible.

  And on top of that, the reporter in her wanted to be here, wanted to find the story here, to find the answers to the thousands of questions she had crowding her mind. Wanted to work out exactly what was going on. And if she was really honest with herself? Would she really run if she wasn’t badly injured? Would she really try to escape? She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know the answer.

  Tam didn’t believe that he was lying about her father, but she didn’t necessarily think he actually knew him. Her father was dead. And that was all there was to it. Right now? She didn’t really want to think about it either.

  ‘So the branch went straight through my stomach?’

  ‘Yeah, it was really bad.’ He eyed her. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘Like crap. But surely if I was impaled by wood, I should feel worse.’ She fingered the sheet covering her. She did feel like hell. Every part of her hurt. It was a pain so intense that she could barely wiggle her toes, yet she was sure that if she really had been on the worse side of a large stick she should be unconscious, battling for her life. Not sat on her own sofa, chit-chatting with a kidnapper.

  ‘Tamriel.’ Leyth heaved a great breath, like he was gearing up for the mother of all conversations. ‘You are wolf.’

  ‘Sure,’ she snorted, though it came out strangled. Fear and confusion prickled up her spine once more. He had to be lying. He had to be playing a trick on her.

  ‘You are. And the sooner you get to grips with that, the better.’

  ‘You’re lying.’ She hated how hoarse her voice sounded. Hell, he had to be lying. Werewolves didn’t exist. They didn’t. But, hell, even as she forced herself to believe that, the voice in the back of her mind told her he spoke the truth. It made sense after all. Her father had always been so strict about the strangest of things; don’t go out in the woods alone, don’t watch the sunrise, don’t look directly at the full moon. Don’t play with wolves.

  Come to think of it, her family home had been covered in pictures of wolves; one wolf in particular. A huge brown wolf with dark-brown eyes, and there had been photos of her mother sitting with her arm around it, pictures of the wolf running in the woodland. She’d always been drawn to wolves.

  ‘So you’re a werewolf?’

  ‘Well, yes, but we don’t call ourselves werewolves. We’re just wolves. The nickname the media gave us is frankly offensive.’

  ‘OK, so you’re a wolf?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Prove it.’

  Leyth could hear the slight tremor in her voice, could see the ever so slight tremble in her hand as she gripped the sheet covering her. She really didn’t want to believe it. She was fighting every instinct she had and he could see the turmoil behind those beautiful eyes.

  ‘Right.’ She took a deep, shuddery breath. ‘If this is real, and I’m not saying I believe you, I just want to know how you do it.’

  ‘OK, I can—’

  ‘Don’t speak.’ She cut him off. ‘You don’t get to speak right now. You d
on’t get to do anything. Just let me figure this out. There has to be an explanation.’

  He could see her trying not to panic. Her eyes were wide and filled with a combination of fear and cold determination, her hands trembling and her heart racing. She was trying to control the situation, trying to find the facts hidden beneath the magic.

  ‘Right. Move, over there. Where I can see you.’ He followed her orders, gingerly walking into the middle of her living room and stopping in the spot she had indicated.

  ‘Now do it, turn yourself into a wolf.’

  Leyth silently hid a grin. Tam was making him shift into wolf right in front of her, in a completely open space so there was no way he could hide any ‘tricks’.

  She was smart. She was making sure it was a true change, not a trick of the brain.

  ‘OK, I’m going to shift now,’ Leyth said calmly, bending down onto his knees and calling the wolf at his core, who came happily bounding to the surface. Leyth tried his best to shift slowly, to make the change happen in a way that she could watch and attempt to understand.

  His bones began to crack and writhe within his skin. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe as the change took him. It was as intense as an orgasm; the feeling overwhelmed you, forced you to be still, to do nothing but ride out the waves of pain and ecstasy. It was all he could feel, all he could think of. Slowly his bones began to split, to bow and break, reforming into that of the wolf; his legs shortened, his ribcage collapsed, his shoulders dislocated and shifted downwards to their new position. His spine began to lengthen, forming a skinny tail as his face began to collapse and rebuild itself, forming a muzzle. His ears stretched and shifted, rising to the top of his head before, finally, the itching began. His skin distorted and writhed, giving way to black and grey fur that broke out of his pores in waves, covering him from nose to tail.

  When it was finally over, he sat back on his haunches and looked up at Tamriel, who had turned even paler. If that was physically possible.

  ‘H-h-oly shit,’ she stammered, her eyes wide and wild.

  ‘Come here,’ she commanded. ‘Slowly.’ Though it came out gently, almost a whisper, as she tried to digest the situation. Leyth did as she asked and came to stand next to her. She was sat on the sofa, wrapped in a myriad of blankets. She carefully ran a hand across his fur, wincing as she moved.

  ‘Right. Now change back into a man,’ she croaked.

  Leyth did as he was asked, reversing the process, allowing his body to break and reshape. He could feel Tamriel watching him intently, her keen eyes searching for any hidden trick, any explanation for what was happening. After all, magic rarely had a logical explanation.

  ‘Oh hell,’ she stammered when he was finally finished, eyeing him as he studiously dragged the little towel around his waist to cover himself. ‘You really are a werewolf.’

  ‘Yeah.’ His voice was hoarse, shifting twice in quick succession would do that to you. ‘So are you.’

  ‘I can…’ She absently rubbed her eyes. ‘I can do that?’

  ‘Well, we’ll see.’

  She cleared her throat. ‘That doesn’t explain why I’m not practically dying. If this wound was as bad as you’ve made it out to be, how am I still breathing?’

  ‘Wolves have exceptional healing capabilities. You’ve slept through the worst of it. We can heal a broken bone in a matter of hours. What would kill a human only wounds us.’

  ‘Right.’ She snorted, though even as she tried to laugh it off, he could see her mind working at a hundred miles an hour behind those green eyes. ‘I’ve always been a fast healer, cuts go in hours not days, bruises are gone in minutes.’

  ‘And now you’ve been through your fever, you will heal even faster. You have to as a wolf. Your body needs to be able to break down and rebuild itself quickly when you change and, as a result, can heal much faster than that of a human.’

  Leyth watched Tamriel as she tried to digest everything that had happened to her over the last few hours.

  ‘My fever?’

  ‘You went through the fever over the last few days. Doc and I looked after you.’

  ‘I was in a medical clinic, wasn’t I?’ She winced.

  ‘Yes.’ Leyth confirmed. ‘Are you OK?’

  ‘Yeah, my head just hurts,’ Tamriel replied. Crap, he realised he hadn’t even offered her a drink. He was such an arse. Shooting to his feet, he stalked into the kitchen, filled a glass with water and rooted through her drawer for some asprin.

  ‘Here.’ He handed her the water and, as she took it, her fingers brushed his, sending ripples of heat shooting up his arm. For a heartbeat he stood, staring at his hand. What the hell was that?

  ‘You should—’ He cleared his throat. ‘You should let me check that.’ He waved a hand towards her stomach.

  ‘OK,’ she said, sipping the water. She looked a little dazed still and, to be honest, he was surprised she was going to let him. Hell, this female had so much fight in her; she was so irritatingly stubborn, he had honestly expected her to fight him, to suffer through the pain and try to do everything herself.

  ‘OK then.’

  Yet as he looked at her, he could see through that strength, and he caught a brief glimpse of the vulnerable, scared female hiding underneath. The female who was in a great deal of pain, who had literally just witnessed her world come crashing down before her.

  ‘I’m going to move you, if that’s OK,’ he grunted, watching her carefully.

  ‘Do it,’ she replied, locking eyes with him. He watched that vulnerability disappear and the annoyingly cold determination fill her gaze. Carefully he moved forward, sliding his arms around her. As her skin touched his, those bizarre ripples of heat flowed through him once again.

  What on earth was happening to him? He hadn’t been with a female for Maker only knew how long. His traitorous manhood leapt to attention, making his heart thud even harder. He needed to get laid. His body was betraying him at the sight of any female, obviously. And this was one female he did not want to get involved with. Hell, he didn’t want to get involved with any female.

  Shoving those ridiculous thoughts aside, he focused on wrapping his arms around her and then lifted her fragile body up off the sofa as carefully as he could, not wanting to hurt her. Slowly, he spun her around so she was lying on her back on the sofa, and gingerly fingered the sheet covering her.

  ‘Just do it.’

  Damn, she was infuriatingly stubborn. Here he was, trying to be nice and gentle and she was barking orders at him anyway. Bunching up one of the discarded blankets, he draped it over her chest so she could cover herself while he checked her stomach. She held the blanket tightly around her breasts as he carefully slid the sheet covering her downwards, exposing her stomach.

  Leyth caught himself almost sighing as her pale skin slowly came into sight. What the hell had come over him? Telling himself to get a grip, he unwrapped the bandage on her abdomen. It was a little awkward, but this strange moment was the closest he’d been to a female in years. His heart was hammering his ribcage so damn hard he wasn’t entirely sure the thing wasn’t going to punch straight through his skin and out the other side. Goddamn he needed to get laid.

  Finally the bandage gave way to her milky skin, and as he lifted the soft gauze, the horrific wound came into sight. Lord almighty, it was bad. Though it was healing well, the wound was still huge, a circular hole as big as his own fist marred her skin just to the left of her belly button. The bleeding had stopped, but the skin was puckered and looked incredibly sore.

  ‘Holy hell,’ she exclaimed, looking down at herself.

  ‘Told you it was bad,’ he muttered, setting the bandage aside and reaching for the medical bag Doc had left behind. He pulled out some disinfectant and antibiotic cream and began to clean the wound. Tamriel hissed as the liquid hit her, making him curse internally as his eyes caught hers. She had closed her lids over those emerald eyes, clearly not wanting to look weak in front of him, yet he could see the tears thre
atening to spill.

  ‘It’s OK,’ he said soothingly. Damn, he was no good at this nice guy crap. Yet all he wanted to do was look after her, stop the pain and the hurt, and ease the confusion riding her mind. Where the hell were these thoughts coming from? ‘I’ll be done in a minute, hang tight,’ he added gruffly.

  When the disinfectant had been applied, he smeared cream across the wound, making her delicate features twist into controlled agony. Anger flared, roaring to the surface. It was anger at himself for scaring her to the point that she felt she had to run away from him. It was his damn fault she was in this much pain and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

  ‘I’m going to put a fresh bandage on, cool?’ he said as calmly as he could, though his mind was anything but calm.

  ‘Yup,’ she whispered.

  When he was finished, she sat up and put weight on her feet, wincing. He could literally feel the waves of fear and pain washing off her, see the tears wanting to spill and watched as her face contorted with unspoken agony, yet even as he could see, hear and sense the pain she was in, he could see her desperately trying not to show him that fear; she wanted him to believe her to be strong, to show no weakness. And it was more than a little infuriating.

  ‘Ready?’ he grunted, sliding a hand awkwardly underneath her back and lifting her midriff off the sofa, a combination of his efforts and hers had her arching her back in one hell of a curve so he could quickly wrap the bandage around her, keeping the gauze in place.

  But as she arched, he couldn’t move. His breath hitched in his throat as his gaze took her in. Unwanted images flickered through his mind, images of her arching her back like that for him in a very different way. Desire punched him, hard, hitting below the belt.

  ‘Do it,’ she grunted.

  Crap. He really needed to get away from this female before he did something he would regret. He could not be getting involved with any female, let alone one as vulnerable as Tamriel.

  Leyth made quick work of wrapping the bandage around her stomach, then hastily covered her in blankets, keeping his eyes anywhere but on her. His traitorous crotch refused to cooperate, fighting against his jeans.