I rubbed the spot Liam had bitten.
“Apparently, during a terrible forest fire, an Alpha was hit by a blazing fallen tree. The blow was so violent that while his pack worked to roll the crackling trunk off him, they felt his link to them unravel. His second-in-command”-I frowned, so he explained-“large packs have betas. Well, he urged the wolves to make their way home to prevent any more casualties, but the Alpha’s mate, she refused to leave him. She dug a trench in the ground to reach him, and then she grabbed him by the neck and dragged his asphyxiated body out. Legend says that when her fangs pierced his skin, her love for him leaked into his bloodstream and jumpstarted his heart.” He shrugged. “Story’s probably embellished, but I like to think our magic has the power to save lives.” He moved my fingers off the spot I was still rubbing and kissed it.
I shivered. I hadn’t lost much blood, yet felt as lightheaded as when I’d extracted a whole pint from my veins to try and save my mother. She’d insisted that injecting herself with my blood wouldn’t magically defeat her ovarian cancer, but I’d tried one gray afternoon. While I’d slid the needle in her catheter-bruised arm, I’d begged for a miracle.
Unlike the Alpha’s mate from Liam’s legend, I never got my miracle, so I didn’t put much stock in our magic saving a life.
Liam tugged me out of my dreary memory by leading me into the bedroom. He flicked on the lamp on his nightstand, then let go of my hand and walked to his connecting bathroom. “Give me a sec.”
He vanished into his en suite, leaving me to stand on the edge of the electric-violet rug that stretched from one wood-paneled wall to the other. Alone in the bedroom, my thoughts whirred like the microwave, continuously spinning images of my cousin.
How I wished I could save his life.
Over my shoulder, I spied my bag on the couch. My phone was in there. I could text Everest. I could warn him. He could run and stay away forever. Glancing at the bedroom door, I took my phone out and hovered my finger over the text messaging icon.
With a few little words, I could change the course of his fate. I almost went through with it, but then I thought about how he’d toyed with my life, how he’d strangled Heath, and realized I couldn’t betray the pack for the sake of a blood-tie.
As I lowered my phone, it vibrated, and a message appeared on my screen.
SARAH: Hey, friend, want to hang tomorrow?
Even though I was feeling rather glum, Sarah’s message managed to make me smile.
ME: Would love to.
SARAH: Lunch at Tracy’s at 3?
ME: No one has lunch at 3.
SARAH: We do.
I shook my head. Fine. See you tomorrow.
The floorboards creaked, and I jumped.
Liam leaned against the doorframe of his bedroom, jeans slung low on his hips-and shirtless. My throat went a little dry at the sight of his honed chest and the indents at his waist, and the thickening trail of dark hair. Liam was so incredibly perfect. Why did I have to imprint on August?
“Who you texting?” There was a hint of something in Liam’s tone-suspicion or jealousy?
“Sarah. We’re meeting up tomorrow.”
He uncrossed his arms and strolled over to me. “Can you be careful with her? I know she’s your friend, but she’s a Pine. I don’t trust Pines. Same way I don’t trust Creeks, or any of the Eastern packs.”
“And you say I’m the one with trust issues?”
He flashed me an almost predatorial smile as he plucked the phone from my fingers and tossed it on his leather couch. “You’re wearing too many clothes. Arms up.”
I looked around me at the walls of glass and the night-soaked landscape beyond them.
“No one’s out there,” he promised. Sensing my enduring anguish, he walked over to the wall and hit a switch that brought down metal blinds before returning to me.
“Are you sure?”
“Close your eyes.”
I frowned but did as I was told.
“Now, listen.”
Still frowning, I strained to listen. It took a second for me to hear anything over my quick breathing and the droning of the descending metal curtain, but then I made out the steady thump of Liam’s heart, the plink of insects against the windows, the rush of a breeze over the swaying wild grass, the scratch of pine needles, the hoot of owls, the flutter of insect wings, and the shallow beat of hearts too tiny to be human or wolf.
“I know you’re still growing attuned to your senses, but never forget to use them. Being human allows us to live in the world. Being a wolf allows us to survive in it.”
Delicately, he gathered my wrists in one hand and raised them toward the ceiling. With his other hand, he dragged my T-shirt up and over my head and arms.
Goose bumps pebbled my skin as desire spread through me. Even though my body wasn’t meant for Liam’s, it still desired his. After he unhooked my bra, he dipped his face to my breasts and breathed against my sensitive skin.
“Does this hurt?” His voice was low and husky.
“No,” I said, a little breathily.
His fingers skimmed down my stomach, unbuttoned my jeans, and slowly rolled them off. He was on his knees again, but this time, it wasn’t to implore me. His gaze turned hooded as his face leveled off on a part of me that no man had ever been near.
He hooked a finger in the side of black lace. Cold sweat slicked over my brow as he roamed nearer to my core. When a bolt of pain shot up to my navel, I batted his hand away.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” I croaked. “This sucks.”
Liam rose to his feet, wrapped his arms around my body that had begun to tremble, and tucked my head underneath his chin. “It does, but it’s just temporary.”
I rested my cheek against his thumping chest, wondering why my wolf had to go and choose August as a mate.
I awoke with a start. Disoriented, I took in the room that was streaked with dull sunlight. My gaze landed on the peacock feather painting over the stone fireplace. I was in Liam’s room.
In his bed.
I twisted around and touched his pillow. It was cold. I tore the sheets off my legs and leaped out of bed.
“Liam,” I called out, padding about the bedroom.
The door to the bathroom was cracked open, but no one was inside. I picked up my phone and checked the time, reeling when I made out the digital readout: 10:30 a. m. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in this late.
My phone’s screen was riddled with messages from Evelyn asking me where I was and if I was okay. I dispatched a quick text to inform her I was fine and on my way to the inn.
Liam had also sent me a text message: On the road to Denver. I already miss you.
My heart began jackknifing my throat, making breathing a feat.
I checked the time stamp on Liam’s text: 7:30 a. m. That meant he was already in Denver. Had been for more than two hours. The fact that I hadn’t gotten a message from him made me queasy as hell. Did that mean they were out looking for Everest? Or did it mean they’d already gotten to him and were on their way back? Images of what they could be doing to him wafted through my mind like sticky chimney smoke.