Enemy Mine

Chapter Two

Mary kept her eyes closed as she slowly came to awareness. Reality merged with dreams, nightmares of her capture and torment months ago followed by flashes of being chased and hunted down by her family. Unexpectedly, Emory had appeared. He wasn’t as scary as she’d once thought. In this dream he was her savior, not her enemy. He’d cradled her to his body, whispering reassurances she didn’t understand. The dreams were so different than the others, when she watched him change into a hideous creature with fangs and claws. Now he was only a man who looked at her as if she were precious, something he didn’t want to let slip away a second time.

Somehow she found the courage to open her eyes.

If the softness of the mattress and feather comforter cushioning her body didn’t inform her she wasn’t in her bed, the clean ceiling and gossamer curtains flittering in a window to her left did. The room was immaculate, done primarily in white, and there wasn’t a cobweb or crusty, peeled wallpaper in sight. Fading sunlight cast a dull orange glow over the room, informing Mary it would be dark soon.

“You’re finally awake.”

Mary lifted onto her elbows to face the person who’d spoken, only to wince and touch the tender spot along the side of her head. The female seated in a chair across the room was tiny, nothing more than delicate features and huge blue eyes. Her light blonde hair was trimmed into a pixie cut and tufts of dark pink were scattered along the top. The stranger rose and the motion only emphasized just how petite she was, standing at no more than five feet tall.

“Who are you?” Mary forced her voice to remain level despite the fact that she was shaking. “Where am I?”

“My name is Ava.” The teeny blonde goddess sat on the edge of the bed. “And you’re in my home. No one will harm you here, Mary. You have my word.”

“I didn’t tell you my name.” Survival instincts had Mary ready to bolt. She grasped the comforter and prepared to slide out of the bed to make a run for it.

“No, you didn’t.” Ava smiled.

“Then what did you do? Pull it out of thin air?”

To Mary’s surprise, Ava laughed. “I suppose I could have but no. Emory told me.”

“Emory?” Portions of her dream resurfaced—of Emory’s face, of his scent, of the way he felt with his arms around her.

“Yes, Emory.” There was amusement in Ava’s expression.

“I thought it was a dream.” Mary gently prodded the wound on her head, paying attention to the neat row of sutures. “I can’t piece everything together.”

“Doc decided it was best to keep you under for a while. He was worried you’d hurt yourself if you panicked.”

“Doc?”

Ava smiled. “Our doctor.”

“He patched me up?”

Ava nodded. “Four sutures, to be precise.” She exhaled slowly and peered through her lashes at Mary. “You’re extremely lucky. If the pack hadn’t found you when they did you wouldn’t have made it.”

Pack. One word had her heart pounding and made her palms clammy. It was true she’d been terrified of shifters before she discovered that monsters came in all shapes and forms—and not all of them grew fur or sprouted claws. Mary glanced at Ava. Of all the shifters she’d seen at her uncle’s home, none had been so small. Was Ava some kind of rodent shifter?

Do those even exist?

Ava burst out laughing and Mary moved farther away, scooting to the edge of the mattress. Maybe the woman was insane. It would explain the pink hair and the odd smile on her face. She certainly didn’t act normal. Despite Ava’s reassurances that her home was safe, it was definitely time to get a move on.

To her stunned amazement, Ava’s laughter died and her face became serious. “Don’t even think about trying to leave. You have no idea the damage you caused when you left Emory but believe me when I tell you if you run he will follow. There is nowhere you can go he won’t find you. You need to accept that your life is about to change. As much as it sucks to tell you that, I don’t want to waste time shitting you. Take everything you think you know and toss it out the window. Nothing is what it seems.”

“And how would you know?” Mary slipped from the bed and wobbled when her bare feet touched the cool wood flooring. “Things must seem pretty clear from your side of the fence.”

Ava arched a perfectly shaped brow. “My side of the fence?”

“The shifter side.” Mary glanced around, searching for her clothes. “What was I thinking? I can’t believe you’d even consider having me in your home. Not with what I am.”

“And what are you?”

“Are you being intentionally stupid?” Mary placed her hands on her hips and tried not to be embarrassed that she was clothed in nothing more than her underwear and a T-shirt. “Does the word Shepherd ring a bell? Or did Emory leave that part out?”

And if he saved me, why isn’t he here? Why wasn’t he waiting in the room when I woke up? Did he leave me? Is this some kind of revenge? Does he expect me to pay for what I’ve done?

“Shepherd is nothing more than a name. The people who are born with it choose their own destiny. You of all people should know that. I wouldn’t judge—”

Whatever Ava was going to say didn’t come. It was like watching a scene in The Twilight Zone. One minute the teeny woman had advice to impart, the next she turned to the door as if she expected someone to step inside.

Within seconds, someone did.

Emory.

Oh God.

Mary’s knees almost caved when she saw him in all his glory, his body and face clearly identifiable in the light radiating through the window. How in the hell had she forgotten how big he was? Six foot three and all muscles, rigid planes and hard lines. The dark stubble on his face made him mysterious yet sexy, matching the hair that was brushed away from his face. There was concern in his light brown eyes, as well as a heat she’d seen aimed in her direction a time or two in the past. He walked toward her—no, he prowled—each step deliberate and as smooth as butter.

He frowned when he saw her. “You shouldn’t be out of bed. Doc hasn’t put you in the clear.”

Who cared if an inner warning screamed he wasn’t entirely a man? At the present moment all she could think about was the way he talked, of the husky cadence of his words. His voice was the aphrodisiac she remembered, sending waves of fire from her belly to areas of her body she’d never dared touch or explore. Her nipples tingled, hardened and formed jutting points as a wet heat built between her thighs.

Knock it off! She shifted her legs together as she backed her way toward the wall. You haven’t seen him in months. After the way you treated him, you have no idea if he’s even interested anymore. He saved you. He didn’t promise you the world.

Fear crashed into her as she dredged up the memory of screaming in his face, terrified of the changes in his features. The reminder removed any trace of her growing desire. What if he harbored a grudge? What if he was angry for what she’d done? Maybe he thought he could get to her family through her? He had no idea of the horrors she’d endured once she’d returned home and learned how demented her uncle and her relatives were. Although he’d found her living elsewhere—something else she didn’t fully understand—he couldn’t possibly know why she’d run or how difficult it had been to escape the farm in Colorado.

“Easy there, angel eyes,” he murmured in a placating tone and stepped around the bed, continuing in her direction. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

Angel eyes.

She closed her eyes, remembering the first time he’d called her that. She’d argued that angels had blue eyes, not brown, but he’d insisted that her eyes and face were those of an angel. It had been the first strike in her emotional armor, allowing him to snake his way into her heart. Not long after she was silly putty in his hands.

When she felt fingers gently twine around her wrist, she gasped and her eyes flew open. Emory was even bigger up close. The black T-shirt covering his torso was drawn tight over the muscles beneath, revealing the outline of his pecs as well as the defined six-pack abs below. She kept her gaze level on his chest, afraid to meet his eyes. Her breathing was stinted but she could still smell him. It shouldn’t be legal for a man to smell so good—all clean, seductive and undeniably Emory.

Mortification swept through her when he touched her cheek and she flinched. She’d been hit in the face so many times it was instinctive to move away, to keep a safe distance.

“Ava,” Emory said, the word coming out as a low growl, and Mary had to force aside panic in order to remain still and passive in his grasp, “it’s time for you to go.”

“Okay.” Ava didn’t sound certain about being asked to leave, which only increased Mary’s alarm. “If you need me, I’ll be downstairs.”

Soft footsteps, the creak of a door opening and closing and Ava was gone—leaving Mary alone with one hell of a large shifter male who might just want her dead.

Don’t freak out. Don’t lose it. Just breathe.

“Shh,” Emory whispered and pulled her to his chest.

She wasn’t sure why he was comforting her until she realized she was whimpering. The sound made her sick and took her to dark places she wanted to forget—memories of pain, loss and terror. Tears stung her eyes but she didn’t allow them to fall. Instead she sagged into Emory’s chest, leaning on his strength, allowing him to shelter her from the world if only for a short time. He ran his hands along her spine in a light motion, traveling from her nape to the indentions above her buttocks. A spike of electricity shot through her, following the gliding brush of his fingers.

“No one will harm you.” Anger was in his voice and she wondered what had put it there. “I swear.”

“Not even you?” She wanted to take what she said back as soon as she heard herself speak. The arms around her became tense and Emory’s chest went still, as if he was holding his breath. After several seconds he relaxed, stepped back and placed his hands on each side of her face. She froze when he lifted her chin and she met his gaze. His irises were mesmerizing, brown with radiant amber centers.

“I can’t change what I am but you have no reason to fear me or mine. None of us will ever hurt you—especially me. You’re as essential to me as the air I breathe. Without you, I’m nothing.”

The intensity in his expression eradicated any rational thought. If he was lying, he was an expert in the craft. With the way he looked at her, she believed what he said, took it as gospel and not idle pillow talk. Despite their history, no matter what had occurred in the past or waited for them in the future, his feelings apparently hadn’t changed.

Heaven help her. Maybe she was deluding herself because she wanted to believe he still wanted her, yearned for her. Prior to learning he was a shifter, she’d imagined going to her knees before him, giving him total control, allowing him to teach her all of the ways to give and receive pleasure. Yes, when she’d learned what he was—half man, half wolf—she’d been scared of him. Who wouldn’t be? The discovery had been a shock, something she didn’t want to believe.

But now…

Now it wasn’t fear she was experiencing.

She’d always been attracted to Emory, had wondered as she lay awake in her bed alone and restless what it would be like to spend a night in his arms. Girlish daydreams had merged with the fantasies of a woman full-grown. Her virgin status was only due to the death of her parents and the strict upbringing after their loss. Now she wasn’t an innocent, wide-eyed schoolgirl. She’d seen and done things that had made her grow up hard and fast.

His warm breath caressed her lips as his mouth hovered over hers. “Mary…”

It wasn’t the lust in his gaze that caused her to shiver, it was the way he said her name, as though he were drowning in tempestuous waters and it was the last word he’d share with the world before he sank beneath the surface. She waited, trembling in his arms. Before he closed the distance and kissed her, she closed her eyes. There was more than physical desire in his expressive, amber-hued irises. Something she wanted to see and therefore worried might be a figment of her imagination.

Once she gave herself over to Emory, she had a feeling there was no going back—not for her, at least. Despite knowing about the existence of shifters, she didn’t know about or understand the eccentricities involved when they dated, had sex or lavished affection on the opposite sex. If Emory was more beast than man, her heart would be broken when he got what he wanted and moved on.

And there would be no one to blame but herself.

The kiss was a chaste meeting of their lips, the touch feather light. He moved his head from side to side—left, right then back again. Their noses brushed with the motion, the coarse whiskers on his chin slightly chafing her skin. She moaned at the sensation, squirming in his embrace.

“Open for me,” he exhaled in a throaty rasp, brought his hand to her face and ran his fingers through the hair at her nape. The instant she obeyed the order his tongue plunged past her parted lips and delved inside. Everything around them became a blur. The floor felt as if it shifted beneath her feet and she clutched at Emory’s wide shoulders to remain standing. His chest vibrated as he growled and buried his fingers into her hip, his hold changing from cautious to possessive.

This was the danger of the man before her. In his presence she didn’t care about the future, the past or the consequences of her actions. Unlike the shifters who made her wary, he created a thrill and excitement she didn’t fully comprehend. With him she felt safe—complete. Emory was like the sun, burning bright enough to chase away the shadows, until her entire focus was on him and him alone.

Emory ended the kiss abruptly, before she could blink. Stunned, she gasped for air and looked at him. His attention was no longer on her, his whiskey-colored irises now glowing amber and aimed over his shoulder at the bedroom door that opened and closed.

“Trey.” Emory pressed against her until she was trapped between his massive body and the wall. “I told you to wait for me downstairs.”

“You know I’ve never been patient,” a deep, obviously male voice responded. “Did you ask her?”

Mary was tempted to push Emory away and greet the intruder when she heard feet shuffling across the floor before coming to a stop. The soft rasp of fabric giving way informed her that the man had taken a seat in the chair across the room. Emory remained as he was, standing like a shield between her and the man he obviously viewed as some kind of threat.

She felt the subtle tensing of his muscles beneath her fingers when he answered, “I’ve been with her less than five minutes. What do you think?”

“I think that’s why I followed you. If I’d given you ten, you’d have taken things from the wall to the bed.”

Mary’s face burned as shame slammed into her, and she inhaled sharply. A complete stranger had walked into the room with her half-clothed and rubbing up against Emory like a happy-go-pet-me cat. She considered shoving Emory away until she realized he’d partially blocked her humiliation from view, and she didn’t want the man who obviously had questions for her to get a full-on visual of her embarrassment.

Oddly enough, it appeared Emory was aware of her feelings. He growled, a low, rumbling sound that was menacing enough to make her cringe. “Get out.”

“Don’t push me. Not today.” The man returned the growl with one equally as threatening. “Ask her about the fucking bag.”

“I’m not going to tell you again.” Emory lowered his arms, forcing Mary to let him go. “I won’t have you upsetting my female because of some cash and a tattered map. If you won’t leave the room on your own, I’ll drag your ass out.”

The room spun, making her dizzy. They’d found the map and her stash of money. Sweet Jesus. Did they think she was a willing member of her family? Did Emory’s brother want to know if she planned to return to one of the compounds to give up the pack’s whereabouts?

Not good. So not good.

Would the man called Trey give her a chance to explain or would he kill her? Emory had thrust her between his massive frame and the wall—shielding her body with his—as if he knew he’d have to protect her from harm. Surely that wasn’t the case. The two men wouldn’t attack each other.

Would they?

Before she could contemplate her options, Trey growled—but not in a way that was at all human or normal. A chill ventured down her spine and terror froze her in place. She couldn’t see the danger she knew Trey represented but she could feel it. Tension permeated the room, palpable in its intensity.

“You think you can threaten me, you ballsy little shit?”

“I don’t think anything,” Emory replied. “I know.”

Mary jerked when she heard the scrape of chair legs followed by a loud crash. Before she could question what caused the disturbance Emory was gone, leaving her so quickly she didn’t have time to cover her semi-nude body or make a mad dash for the bed.

She gawked in disbelief at the men who rushed each other, collided and started fighting like opponents in a cage match. Emory and the man she remembered from her apartment—Emory’s brother, apparently—shared the same coloring and build. They each had dark hair, tanned skin and stood over six feet tall. Although from what she could see through their flurry of fists and punches, Trey kept his hair shorter.

Trey grasped Emory by the shoulder and they smashed into the wall, leaving a huge dent in the once smooth and flawless plaster. Another sudden move and they did the same thing to the wall a few feet over, creating an odd set of shapes that were almost identical.

Heaven help her. They were so strong, so deadly. Her family had warned her about that, had drilled into her head how dangerous shifters could be. One slap from either of the men fighting across the room would likely kill her. No swelling skin or bruises to care for following a blow or punch. If they managed to get hold of her she’d be lucky to end up in the hospital on life support.

She moved as far away from them as possible, until her back was flush against the far wall.

“You ungrateful bastard.” Trey crouched and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Don’t you remember how this ended last time? No? Let’s reminisce. I kicked your ass and sent you packing.”

“I’ve had enough of this shit.” Emory rushed forward, tackling his brother to the ground. Trey tried to roll over but before he could Emory wrapped his large hand around his brother’s throat and snarled, “I’m not the shifter I used to be.” Then he reached back with his free hand, grabbed hold of Trey’s crotch and squeezed.

“What the fuck!” Trey howled. “Get your goddamn hand off me!”

“Not yet. Not before you hear what I have to say. There’s something you should know, something I should have told you a long time ago.” Emory kept a grip on Trey’s throat and jewels as he leaned forward, looking his brother in the eye. “I rolled over. I let you win. Do you honestly think it would have been that easy? I made sure it was a nice show, so the pack would understand why you had to make a tough decision. I didn’t intend to kill you when I entered the fight between us, I never did. No matter how much of a danger I’d become, I’d never hurt my own blood. I was using you to end my misery.”

“Bullshit,” Trey huffed.

“No bullshit. Truth.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s your choice,” Emory said. “But do you really want to fight me a second time to prove you’re right? Is it worth that much to you?”

“Shit.” Trey paused. “Truce?”

Emory released Trey and nodded. “Truce.”

Mary released a sigh of relief but it was short-lived. Without warning the door to the bedroom burst open, rattled on the hinges and slammed into the wall. Before she could wrap her head around that the largest man she’d ever seen entered the room. He targeted his gaze on her and she froze. His dark hair was pulled back at his nape, bringing attention to eyes that were liquid gold. The orbs practically shimmered across the distance, stark against his tan skin. But it wasn’t his eyes that held her attention, it was the large hands he’d formed into tight fists.

Her heart sank to her stomach and she felt lightheaded.

One hit from Emory and Trey, she might survive.

One hit from the man staring at her and they’d be scraping her carcass off the floor.

Fucking shit!

Emory jumped away from Trey, ignored Diskant and strode to Mary. Fear was coming off her in waves, covering the room in the smell of her terror. Her eyes remained glued to Diskant, the brown pools growing wide as saucers. When Emory reached her he yanked her into his chest, obscured her from view and covered the top of her head with his hand. She remained board stiff, her arms limp at her sides.

Goddamn Trey!

Mary had been receptive to his advances until his older sibling had ruined everything. Now she was as terrified as he remembered her being weeks before, after she’d seen him partially change. Carefully, he stroked her hair and murmured soft nothings to her. She didn’t fight him but she didn’t relax. He considered showing his brother the damage he’d done and demand Trey apologize but he didn’t want to make things worse. Instead he continued gentling her with his touch, keeping her close.

“It’s okay,” he whispered. “I made a promise to you and I won’t break it. Trust me, Mary. All you have to do is trust me.”

“Is she okay?” Diskant’s voice was softer than usual—no doubt to ease Mary’s fear—although Emory could tell the Omega was furious.

“She’s in shock.” Emory kept his tone level as he feathered his fingers over her hair. “It’s too much too soon.”

“I told you to give them time alone.” By the outrage in Diskant’s voice, Emory knew he was directing his attention to Trey. “What the hell did you do?”

“If I’d given them anymore time alone he’d be indisposed until they were fully bloodbonded.” To his credit, Trey had the decency to sound uncomfortable. “I only wanted an answer to my question. Emory flew off the handle.”

“He’s just been reunited with his female, dipfuck. I allowed you to stay so long as you didn’t interfere with his personal shit.” Diskant paused and Emory felt the weight of the Omega’s gaze on his back. “And from where I’m standing you not only interfered, you inserted yourself right in the fucking middle.”

“It wasn’t like that, D.”

“Get out.”

Emory didn’t have to turn to see the look Diskant was aiming at Trey, he could visualize it. Despite the fact that Trey was older than Diskant and had been his Alpha once upon a time, Diskant wasn’t someone any shifter wanted to fuck with. It wasn’t any wonder Mary had been terrified. At six feet, six inches and well over two hundred and fifty pounds, Diskant Black stood taller than most men inside a room. And he didn’t ask anyone to do anything, he told them to. If you were unlucky enough to receive negative attention from the bastard, it was best to do what he said and move the fuck along.

“And my answer?” Trey asked, continuing to tempt disaster.

“Go down to the basement and make yourself a drink or five. Ava invited a few females over to welcome all of you home so do yourself a favor and take a load off. You need to get your shit straight and mellow out. Answers from my guest are my problem to deal with. The pack is no longer yours, it’s mine. You’re crossing the line with me and I won’t have it. If you don’t prioritize, I will.”

This time Trey didn’t respond.

Emory heard the crackle of wood as someone stepped on a piece of the shattered door and exited the room. As Trey’s scent faded, Emory stepped back and looked at Mary. It felt like something squeezed his heart, applying pressure until it was difficult to draw in air. Poor thing was trying not to panic, taking shallow breaths. She wouldn’t look at him and kept her face forward so that her gaze remained on his chest.

“Ava mine,” Diskant called to his mate. “We need you, baby.”

“I’m here,” Ava said softly and Emory waited as she approached.

It was hard to believe Diskant had mated a female who could read human thoughts and manipulate emotion. A few of the older pack mates believed it was a blessing, a way to keep the pack safe from those who were unaware of their existence. Personally Emory hadn’t given it much thought.

Until now.

If Ava could ease Mary’s fear, he’d gladly accept any help she offered.

When he started to step aside Mary suddenly came to life and grasped his arms. Her nails scraped and pierced his skin as she buried them in his biceps and pulled him close.

“Stay where you are, Emory,” Ava instructed, reaching out and placing her fingers on Mary’s forehead. “She doesn’t want you to go. She’s just got a lot running through her head.” Ava sighed after a moment and glanced over her shoulder. “Diskant managed to scare the poor thing. Next time I’ll have to remind him that we don’t break down doors to greet guests.”

Diskant strode over and placed his hands on Ava’s shoulders. “I thought I should break the fight up sooner rather than later.”

“Neanderthal,” Ava scolded.

“And you love it.”

Ava ignored him and concentrated on Mary. The tiny female stared at his mate for well over a minute, her irises shifting from light to dark blue. After a moment Mary blinked several times, as if shaking off a haze, and looked at Ava.

“We were just talking, but we didn’t speak.”

“You’re right,” Ava said encouragingly. “We were talking but we didn’t speak.”

“How…” Mary reached for the neatly stitched wound near her temple. “It’s head trauma, isn’t it? I’ve lost my marbles. I’m in La La Land.”

“You’re fine.” Ava lowered her hand. “It’s a gift I have—telepathy. I use it when I need to.”

“Telepathy?” Mary echoed disbelievingly.

“Telepathy,” Ava confirmed. “Watch.”

Mary’s eyes flared wide and she gaped at Ava. They gazed at each other, eyes locked and focused. After several seconds the alarm in Mary’s expression changed to one of wonder. Her eyes drifted to Diskant.

“Really?” she asked, watching the Omega. “You can?”

“Oh yeah.” Ava nodded and grinned.

“Can what?” Emory asked.

“She said she can control him.” Mary continued staring at Diskant, a frown forming on her expressive face. “I’m not sure I believe her.”

“She controls me, huh?” Diskant purred and slid the hand resting on Ava’s shoulder down her back and placed it on her ass. “Is that what you told her, mate?”

Ava cleared her throat and Emory saw her squirm against Diskant’s hand. “Drop to a knee and show Mary you’re as gentle as a kitten,” Ava murmured thickly. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Just like that, the Omega was on his knees. He rubbed his chin on his mate’s arm and winked at Mary. “See?” he said in a low timbre that Emory knew had everything to do with the sexual promise in Ava’s request. “Harmless as a newborn.”

Then, like the sun parting the clouds and sucking up all the gloom from the day, Mary smiled. It was a small gesture, the slight lifting of her lips at the corners, nothing at all like the full-fledged grins she’d given him in the past. But damn it, it was a fucking smile. In light of how terrified she’d been, he’d take it.

“Are you satisfied now?” Diskant smiled at Mary and cocked his head to the side. “Or do I have to debase myself more than I already have?”

“I’m s-satisfied,” Mary stammered.

“You sure?”

Mary didn’t struggle to respond this time, more confident when she answered, “I’m sure.”

“Good. Since that’s settled,” Diskant rose and wrapped an arm around Ava’s waist, “we’ll leave you two alone. I’m going to take this little minx up on her offer to make things worth my while. Make yourselves at home.” The desire in his face faded as he glanced down at Ava, met his mate’s gaze and then looked at Mary. “You’re more than our guest,” he informed her, ever the Alpha, firm yet gentle, “you’re family. If anyone gives you trouble, come to me. They’ll never bother you again. You have my word.”

Before she could reply Diskant swung Ava up in his arms, stomped toward the door and called over his shoulder, “You’d best move Mary into your room, Emory. I’ll get a new door installed tomorrow.”

Ava’s shrills of laughter and Diskant’s chuckles faded as the mated pair vanished around the corner. Emory heard the pair’s bedroom door down the hall rattle open and close with a snick. Mary lifted her chin and met his gaze. He knew then that he was neck deep in the shit. Ava’s lighthearted attempt to corral Diskant and gain Mary’s trust had worked, but it had also done something he was certain his Omega’s female didn’t intend. As Mary had watched the couple together—their mutual attraction and affection obvious—a spark of arousal had struck Emory’s nose.

Mary’s arousal to be precise, and the scent wasn’t fading.

Fuck.

He wanted to do the right thing but he was only capable of so much. The beast inside was pushing him to take things further, to give her the first mark. Once done she couldn’t tell him no. Hell, she wouldn’t want to tell him no. She’d experience the same fever in her veins, the same desire to mate. Nothing would alleviate the burn aside from the final bloodbonding phase. Once she passed that crucial step in their pairing, she’d never be able to leave him.

Never.

“Are you afraid of me, Mary?” Damn the wolf for making the question so gruff, for taking away his reason. They had to talk. They did not need to take things into the other bedroom, where they would be completely alone. His fingers trembled as the wolf within howled at Mary’s nearness, demanding he run his tongue along her throat, taste her tender skin for the first time and strip the clothes from her body.

He’d waited too long, damn it, and pushed the animal inside further than it would go. Christ, he was weaker than he’d thought. The urge to plant her ass up in the air, fuck her from behind and pin her in place with his teeth was almost more than he could stand.

“No,” she breathed, resting her palms against his chest.

“Are you certain?” He had to know, had to hear her say it. “You ran from me before. I need to know that you understand who I am—what I am.”

“I’m not scared of you.” She opened her little hands and spread her fingers across his pectoral muscles. Her lids lowered and her brown eyes became cloudy. “I know who you are,” she continued and pressed the tips of her fingers into his chest, “and what you are.”

“Who am I then?”

“You’re the man who walked me to class and carried my books.” A crease formed between her eyebrows and her breath caught. She dropped her gaze and stared at her hands. “You’re the man who opened doors, pulled out my chairs and acted like an utter gentleman.”

Now for the hard question, the one he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to. “What am I, angel eyes?”

“A man.” She spoke so softly that even with his superior hearing he had to strain to hear.

“Are you sure about that?”

“You might be able to change into something else but when it comes down to it you’re a man. I’ve seen you. I know what kind of person you are.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“It’s a good thing,” she replied, nodding. “There are men who have no excuse for their actions but they hurt people just the same. They do horrible things. Evil things.”

He stroked her hair, indulging in his desire to touch her. “What kinds of evil things, sweetheart?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she replied in a lifeless monotone. “I was so stupid, so ignorant.”

“Who told you that?” he snapped, livid at the insults and only God knew what else his mate had received from her relatives. It wasn’t any wonder she’d risked her life by running. “Your family? Your uncle?”

“Told me what?” she whispered and peered up at him with her large, doelike eyes.

“That you’re stupid and ignorant.”

“No one had to tell me.” She ducked her head, avoiding his gaze. “No one had to. I realized it not long after…” Her soft inhalation was smooth but her rough exhalation revealed her nervousness. “After what happened, after you were gone,” she murmured, “I knew I’d made a mistake.”

A mistake.

Hope was a bastard emotion, something Emory didn’t want to give life if he didn’t absolutely have to. Unfortunately the fucking sensation washed over him, cocooning his heart in warmth.

“What mistake?”

“Running away,” she finally confessed, trembling as she did. “Treating you like I did.”

“What you did is understandable.” He willed himself not to push her too hard or ask for too much. “You were in shock and learning what I was couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t, but after I had all the facts I knew I had been wrong about a lot of things.” She paused and asked, “How did you find me?”

His stomach knotted. How in the hell did he answer that question without scaring her? If he mentioned her family, she might ask what had happened to them. He didn’t want to be the man pulling the short straw and revealing everyone she’d left behind—with the exception of her bastard uncle—were dead.

“After I discovered you weren’t at your uncle’s farm, I did some research. I remembered our conversation about your parents and the trip you said you had to make to Florida to retrieve the savings your parents had left for you. It wasn’t hard to track you down once I had a general location. I had a member of the pack work his mojo and put a trace on your attorney’s phone once we figured out who he was. The call you made to him a couple of days ago gave me your location.”

“Another notch on my wall of stupid,” she muttered.

“You are not stupid.” He didn’t mean to sound so angry but it was impossible to be nurturing and supportive when his mate seemed determined to put herself down. “You’re one of the most intelligent people I know.”

When she lifted her head and their gazes met, he knew she’d face her fear of him or she’d run because of it. There was no way to contain the feral portion of him—not now. He knew his eyes were glowing, that his canines, although high in his gums, were now pointed in an unnatural way. She took in the changes, starting with his eyes before lowering her focus to his mouth. He waited, holding his breath, hoping against fucking hope that she’d end his torment.

Seconds ticked by like hours, so slowly he thought he’d go mad. Then Mary brought her hands to his shoulders and rose to her tiptoes. She frowned, shifted her feet, and her fingers tickled the back of his neck when she brought her right hand around and applied pressure, urging him to lower his head.

“Come here.”

He obliged, lowering his chin as he wrapped his hands around her waist. “How’s this?”

Her reply came in the form of physical contact—a cock-rocking kiss that set him on his heels. The moment her lips brushed his he was a goner. His mate had come to him without pressure, without fear and without restraint. She’d made the decision on her own, without any outside influence, and now waited for him to make the next move.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she whispered, the smell of her growing desire caressing his nose. “The others frighten me but you…I know you won’t hurt me.” She moaned when he grasped her by the ass and lifted her feet from the ground, bringing them hip to hip and chest to chest.

Open for me, sweetheart. Open for me.

When she did, he dipped his tongue inside her mouth. Taking it slow might have been the way he’d planned to go but fast suited him just as well. Mary was uncertain at first, meeting the teasing swirls of his tongue with cautious ones of her own. He growled and kneaded the globes in his hands, encouraging her to let herself go. His nose told him she was excited, her scent calling to him in ways that had his muscles quivering in anticipation. It was time to put his dreams to rest.

Who needed fantasies when the real deal was in his arms?

He thought the battle was over when she wrapped her legs around his waist and her panty-clad cleft nudged his denim-encased cock. A corresponding jerk and tightness in his sac was immediately followed by the wet sensation of semen coating the head of his dick and the inside of his jeans. Her eager little hands twined in his hair and tugged as she deepened the kiss and mirrored the laps of his tongue.

Hurry the hell up or you’ll finish before she’s started.

As he carried his mate from the room, he changed his tune. Hope was not a bastard emotion. He took the notion back, more than happy to swallow the words and force them down his throat.

Right here, right now—he entered his bedroom and closed the door with a flick of his heel—hope was a fine fucking thing indeed.