Chapter 2
Savannah
Ishouldn’t be here, in this stranger’s home, I think as I stand under the shower, scrubbing at my skin.
The hot water draws the cold out of my bones, but the black mud is stubborn, clinging, and my mother’s dark warnings flood back to me.
He could jump in the driver’s seat right now and drive me off someplace.
Abduct me. Do anything he likes with me.
There’s no one to look out for me, to wonder where I’ve got to.
Unease prickles in my stomach as I wonder if I’ve just done something real dumb.
Something even worse than being rejected and abandoned.
But it doesn’t feel like that.
As I watch the mud pour down the drain, I have the weird sense that it’s my old life draining away from me. I have no reason to trust Beau, except it felt like he was supposed to find me here.
Last night, when I skidded down that riverbank, I thought I’d tumbled into the mouth of hell.
The blackness had risen up to receive me.
To swallow me whole. I don’t remember falling asleep, but awful nightmares terrified me all night long.
I dreamed that I was already dead, sunk down to the river bed, tangled up in the weeds and stones.
And this morning, Beau Matherson brought me back to life. I was like a primordial creature wallowing in the mud, and he dragged me out and gave me a second chance.
His voice—a low, vibrating growl. A powerful voice made soft. It broke right through my nightmares. I opened my eyes and saw a sight I know I’ll never forget:
A river god. A massive, broad-shouldered man, towering over me, water droplets glistening on him like gold dust. His clothes all soaked and clinging to him. Dark, wet hair hanging in his eyes.
And what eyes. As true as the brightest sky, burning through the darkness. Burning with worry for me.
As he took me in, he rubbed at his short beard, scattering more golden droplets, and my heart flipped. No one has ever worried about me before, in my whole life.
That’s not me feeling sorry for myself. That’s just how it is. Life was hard on the territory. If you don’t look out for yourself, no one else is going to.
And when those burning-sky irises locked onto mine, I thought, reborn.
I was being reborn right here.
Just now, I wrote the word in my journal, and it seared through the pages.
He might have come to hurt me, to do those awful things my mom had warned me about. But when he lifted me up from the bank and led me here so gently—like I was a horse and he was afraid I was going to bolt—he felt like my savior.
Then he stripped off his shirt. His glorious body cast in gold by the morning light. Muscles like a river of boulders, tattoos adorning him like blessings.
When I look at him, I can’t breathe. Dizziness trembles through me, and little sparks of fire light all over my body.
I want to stare at him all day long. I want to press my mouth to his skin. Feel its velvet, inhale his warmth.
I’ve never felt like this before, never desired another person before.
Frigid.
That’s what they called me. That’s why I was rejected—that and the fact I couldn’t shift. That ugly moment seared into my mind for eternity.
Stripped bare, my body on display to the whole pack, for the first time since I was a little cub. And my intended, an alpha-in-waiting, walking around me in a circle.
Sniffing me.
He said I didn’t smell right. That I had no scent.
Everybody laughed at me.
Then he told me to shift. I’ve never shifted before. My mom told me it would happen when I met my mate, but it didn’t happen with him. I tried and tried till I hurt all over, and he laughed his ass off at me, and everyone else joined in, calling me names.
Frigid bitch.
What do you expect from a halfling?
I wasn’t a real wolf and they knew it. Too soft, too chubby, and I didn’t smell right.
He said he didn’t want me in his harem.
My mom had warned me what my mating ritual would be like and I’d been dreading it for months. But I couldn’t even be relieved it wasn’t going to happen, because he warned me there would be consequences. No room in my harem for a frigid female. We’ll sell you to another pack.
I think he took it as a personal slight that I didn’t get aroused by him, and he wanted to punish me.
A part of me shut down, right there; a part that had never had a chance. A bud killed by frost. Mating, pups. The whole thing. It wasn’t for me. I was as confused as hell. I’d never wanted this life for myself. But now I was being told I wasn’t good enough for it, it hurt like crazy.
That’s why my mom helped me escape—no, not my mom, apparently. But I’m not sure what else to call her. Not that it matters. I’ll never see her again. The woman who raised me without loving me.
We learned that I was going to be offered to a pack of vicious half-breeds. All kinds of weird species, united in their bitterness, because some of them couldn’t shift, or they could only shift half-way, and they’d gotten stuck like that.
She stole a car, and we drove overnight to Perdue Town—a place she’d heard was full of waifs and strays. She wouldn’t tell me how she knew about it. Just said it was the best place for me. She risked a lot bringing me here, and I’ll always be grateful to her for that.
Last night I thought she’d lied. That she’d delivered me to hell instead. But here I am, in the little home of a big wolf man whose eyes tell me he’s going to save me.
As I run my soapy hands over my body, I imagine it’s his touch. Gold dust tingles on my skin. Rivers of gold flow in my veins.
Beau Matherson makes me feel hot and soft and achy in a way that tells me he’s the only one who can fix it.
But that can never happen. When he finds out I’m a wolf without a scent, he’ll reject me. And already I can’t stand to see his eyes go dim with disappointment.
I’m a frigid female. Not fit for anyone’s harem.
I could stay under this blissful hot water for hours, but I go as fast as I can, guessing the tank is small.
When I’m sure there’s no more mud, I finish rinsing my hair and step out of the shower.
I towel off and get dressed. Thank goodness my clean underwear stayed dry, and the leggings, too.
But as for the shirt Beau has put out for me…
I button it up and it goes all the way down to my knees.
It’s blue plaid and very soft. I roll the sleeves up to my elbows and try to smooth it down, so it looks more like a dress.
There’s no mirror in the bathroom and just as well, as I don’t want to see how ridiculous I look right now.
Actually, I don’t care so much. Because I kind of like wearing Beau’s shirt.
It smells freshly laundered, but I wish it smelled of him.
I rub the collar against my cheek and I imagine how it usually rides against his strong neck, the hairs of his beard catching against it.
I’d like to feel his beard chafing my skin, I think, and the thought wafts another breath of gold dust through my soul.
When I emerge from the bathroom, there’s an incredible smell of cooking coming from the other side of the bus. Beau is not in the tiny galley kitchen, though. My mouth waters and I remember I haven’t eaten for at least a day.
I hop down the three steps to the outside and dump my dirty clothes in a heap on the ground.
And my breath catches at the sight of him.
Beau is arranging something on the table. He’s got his back to me, a fresh white T-shirt pulled tight across his big shoulders. Deeply tanned arms setting off the dazzling white.
And then he turns, like his ears were pricked up. Waiting for me.
What an arrogant thought. My cheeks warm.
He looks me up and down and his chest rises and falls.
I go still. I know I look ridiculous, but suddenly I can’t stand to be humiliated again.
Can’t stand for this gorgeous man to laugh at me. I think my stupid heart would shatter to pieces, all over the parking lot.
He takes a step closer, and his lips part.
My heart pounds and my ears ring, bracing themselves for a sentence I’ll never forget.
“Well now, don’t you look—” Those sparkling eyes turn stormy, and the tip of his tongue runs along his upper lip thoughtfully.
And now my heart hammers even harder because I realize he’s not amused by me. No, there’s something else in the gaze that’s raking me from head to foot.
My eyes cling to the sight of his tongue sliding along his full, firm lips, and a shiver blasts through me. It prickles all over my skin, before alighting on my nipples.
What the hell?
For the first time in my life, I’m aware of my nipples. They’re no longer sitting quietly behind my bra; they’ve turned to aching, burning points. I fight the urge to feel at them. Instead, I risk a quick look. Yup, there they are, poking through the soft fabric of Beau’s shirt.
When I raise my head again, I see Beau has zeroed in on them, too. And I hear his breath coming heavy and rough.
I picture his dark head bent to my breasts, gently sucking them, one then the other. My hands tangling in his hair, my nose full of his scent.
Now the apex of my thighs starts to tingle as well.
Well, this is awkward.
“—refreshed,” he says.
“Huh?”
“You look refreshed from your shower.”
“Oh.” I’m stupidly disappointed.
I fuss with my bangs. My wet hair is clinging to my face. “I must look a sight.”
He shakes his head. “Not at all. You a redhead?”
“Kinda. More black than red, I guess.” I force my fidgeting hands down by my sides.
“Bare feet…so tiny,” he says wonderingly. “They shouldn’t be bare on the parking lot though. You might step on something sharp. Broken glass or worse.”
“They’re stronger than they look.” I try to sound offhand, but his scrutiny is making me a little panicky. It’s not that I don’t like it. I’m just not… used to it.
“Thanks for the shower.”
He breaks into a grin as if he’s relieved by the change of topic, too. “You’re very welcome.” He gestures to the table. “Let’s eat now.”