Chapter 8 #2
Noah continues to stare at me as he eats, as if he’s listening intently, not with his ears but with his other senses. His aura is powerful, a serene but intense blue that radiates from him. I can almost taste his alpha magic.
“You’ve been in my dreams,” he says.
I choke on my steak. He lunges forward like he’s somehow going to save me from asphyxiating. When I hold up my hand, he slowly sinks back into his chair, gaze still intent on my face.
I pound on my sternum with my fist and swallow, then pick up my glass and guzzle down half the water. “You saw my dreams?” I rasp out, my eyes still watering from choking.
That golden sheen rolls over his irises again. It sends a shiver down my spine. He’s so beautiful it makes my chest ache.
“You saw my dreams.” He points at me, then uses a flat hand on his chest. I enjoy seeing him talk with his hands. Something in me yearns to see him sign. The way his hands move is beautiful.
A hint of a smile plays around his lips, and I realize he might be teasing me. The sight of it sends butterflies fluttering through me. He has beautiful dark blue eyes. Kind eyes.
He feels familiar, even though we’re total strangers. I know he was the man who helped me in the elevator. I keep imagining it, wishing I'd been able to see him or had been more aware to understand what was happening.
The smile vanishes as quickly as it came.
“When? Which dreams?” I demand.
“Most of them I don’t remember, but I know I’ve been dreaming about you. There was one in your bedroom. You sat up in bed and were looking at me. It was like we were in two places at once.”
I gasp. That’s the same vision I remember. “What did I tell you?” I ask, testing him.
Something in his face closes as if he doesn’t want to have this conversation. Does that mean he didn’t have the same vision? Or doesn’t remember it?
“You said I would have to choose sides for a war coming.” His expression is dark.
Ice sluices through my veins, and I shiver.
He remembers. And he understands the warning.
Has he already chosen a side? He said he wasn’t with the Blackthroats, but I know that’s not true.
Warning bells sound in my head. They should’ve been sounding this whole time, but I was weak from fasting in the visions. Now I’m finally waking up to the disaster of my situation.
Noah kidnapped me and is holding me prisoner. He intends to use me against my pack, I’m sure.
This wolf is the enemy.
Noah
I narrow my eyes at my lovely captive. “I don’t care about your war.”
Her pale brows lift toward her hairline. “No?”
“No.” I sign the word as I speak it.
“What do you care about?”
I watch her lips move. They look plump and soft. Kissable. My wolf is riled up being in the same room with her. She’s the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.
But I shouldn’t be thinking about that. Especially not when she’s at my mercy. It would be wrong to make any kind of move on her. Besides, I couldn’t trust her motivations if she reciprocated. She could be doing it to get free.
And I still haven’t ruled out the possibility that she lured me to her to win this war she warned me of.
So I ignore the question and her delicious peach blossom scent, putting a bite of steak in my mouth and chewing.
She does the same. It satisfies my wolf to feed her. Her arms and legs are too thin. She was so weak, she was barely able to walk to the bathroom, and the way she tore into the meat made it seem like she’d been starved.
I’m sure the fits she has during her visions sap her strength, and she also mentioned fasting to improve the visions, but something makes me think there’s more to it. My impression from our shared visions was always that she was a prisoner of some kind.
Which should make me feel all the worse for keeping her my prisoner now.
But I have no choice. As I told her, fate delivered her to me. She must be the answer to finding the Moonborn.
Aster finishes the steak and moves onto the broccoli. After she cleans her plate, she wipes the butter from her lips with her cloth napkin. My cock stirs at the thought of licking it off for her. My wolf wants me to keep feeding her, but I don’t want her to get sick. She devoured her food too fast.
Now I wish I’d purchased extras from the grocery store before I checked into the cabin. Wine would be nice right now. Or something sweet.
“Are you still hungry?” I sign and speak the words, and she pays attention to my fingers, like she’s committing the signs to memory.
I watch her lips move, still wanting to kiss them. “I’m okay. Thank you. That was delicious.”
I touch the tips of my fingertips together, contemplating the situation. I don’t know what in the hell I’m going to do with her. I can’t very well let her go now because the moment I do, the war between packs begins. Or perhaps it already has–I don’t know. I still haven’t returned Brick’s messages.
“I have a question,” I say.
She stills, her face arranging into an inscrutable mask.
Fuck. I don’t want her so guarded.
“How old are you, Seeress?”
She relaxes a bit. “Twenty-two.”
“What were you doing up in that tower?”
Wariness returns. “Receiving visions.”
“And you were fasting to receive them?”
Aster pushes back from the table and stands, drawing herself up tall. Tall for her is up to my shoulders, and she’s so thin I could break her in half with one hand.
I also stand, picking up our plates and silverware. “Were you a prisoner there?” I try again.
Something in the way her eyes jerk to my face tells me I’m right, but she immediately covers it, throwing her shoulders back and lifting her chin. “Of course not. I’m Seeress to the most powerful pack in New York. There is no female wolf who ranks higher than I.”
I don’t smell the acrid scent of a lie, but I’m still certain that she’s hiding something.
She worded her answer very carefully. She didn’t come right out and say she wasn’t a prisoner in that tower.
And if the Adalwulfs treat their Seeress so poorly, how do they treat the rest of the females in the pack?
Do they imprison and starve them to the point of weakness?
My Nan hinted that before my birth, my mother was brutalized in some kind of ritual. Maybe I’m reading too much into Aster’s situation, but my gut says no.
The thought of my mother being treated like Aster makes my wolf hot and itchy for revenge, but I hide my violence.
I’m adept at hiding all emotions and urges.
Being deaf gives me the advantage of being underestimated.
Written off. I learned to become the observer who stayed out of pack dynamics and plotted his revenge on the Moonborn in a long game.
Aster props her hip against the table. She’s still not steady on her feet but doesn’t want to show me her weakness. I want to question her more, but my wolf won’t allow it.
“You’re tired, Seeress. Take the bed. I’ll clean up.”
She glances toward the door. I shake my head. She wouldn’t make it two steps before I caught her.
Of course, my wolf wants her to run. He wants to chase. He wants the dance of the full moon runs, where the males chase and catch the females, forcing them into sexual surrender.
Once more, she squares her shoulders, picking up her empty glass and carrying it past me to the kitchen sink.
Her hip brushes mine as she passes, and I get a hit of her scent–fresh summer peaches.
I reach for the faucet to turn it on for her, dying to keep her close, to breathe that sweet scent until I drown in it.
I’m crowding her into the corner against the cabinets, but she doesn’t seem afraid.
No, the flutter of her eyelashes as she darts a quick glance at my face tells me she knows I’m not trying to intimidate her.
I can’t help it. I have to touch her. I turn off the water after she’s filled her glass and rest my hand on her lower back. “Come. You can wear something of mine to sleep in.”
And I’m happy to undress you if you need my help.
Another darted glance at my face, and she acquiesces, allowing me to escort her to the bedroom where I pull out a flannel shirt and a pair of too-big sweatpants from my duffel bag.
“Thank you.” She reaches for the clothes with pale, slender fingers.
I’ve never wished I could hear a voice. School administrators tortured me when I was a child with devices to help me hear–that was how I learned how to talk, but I have long-since abandoned them.
But right now, I’d give my left nut to know the tone of her voice.
Whether it’s light and breathy or low and sultry.
Maybe it’s an unpleasant shrill sound, but somehow, I doubt it.
“Good night, Seeress.”
She inclines her head, making it harder for me to read her lips. “Good night, Noah.”
Something about seeing those pouty lips form my name does something to the room. The floor tilts. My heart pounds. My balls grow heavy.
I have participated in full moon runs with my pack back in Kentucky.
I’ve shared a bed with she-wolves for the night.
I explored my sexual needs with a handful of human females during college.
But I have never once let a female distract me from my mission of freeing my mother and taking down the Moonborn.
Right now, though, I’m tempted.
Aster Adalwulf is the most fascinating female I’ve ever met, and if she wasn’t the prize possession of my sworn enemies, I might allow myself to explore my wolf’s apparent interest more.
But I’m in no position to do that.
I will have to keep my hands off this beautiful she-wolf before she tempts me into making a mistake.