Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
C hance
“This is your home?” Emery asks as she looks over at me from the passenger seat of my truck.
A thought I haven’t let myself have in many, many years overcomes me.
What does her voice sound like?
The urge to know the tone and rhythm of her words comes over me.
I turn away from her because the longer I stare the more absurd my thoughts become.
“Yes, this is my house,” I answer her while looking out at the red-clay-covered home that I built into the side of a hill closer to the outskirts of our pack’s commune.
I never needed much to survive and my home provides for my needs and then some. Yet, as I look at it now, all I can see is what it lacks.
The house is only composed of three rooms. A bedroom, bathroom, and a combined living room space and kitchen. Not once have I felt like my home wasn’t sufficient, but as I think about Emery staying here, doubt begins to crowd my head.
“Ms. Elsie has three extra bedrooms and a huge kitchen. Shelly and Jim also have space in their home and they are extremely generous. We have a couple of guest homes as well if you would prefer to stay there?”
I turn to face Emery.
“You don’t want me to stay with you?”
Pain stabs at my chest as I read the question off of her lips.
“You’re more than welcome…” I pause. “I want to make sure you’re comfortable.”
A small tug of her lips happens. It’s not quite a smile, but it feels like more of an attempt.
“I’d rather stay with you if that’s alright.”
Heat rushes through my body as I envision her lying in my bed.
“Yes, that’s fine.” Though I can’t hear my own voice, the tightness in my throat tells me it must’ve come out gruff.
Without another word, I climb out of the truck, grab Emery’s bags from the back seat and then round the front to help her out.
She follows me inside, silently glancing around. As I watch her, I wonder what she thinks of the surroundings.
“Everything’s completely self-sustaining,” I inform her as I turn on the lights in the living room and kitchen. “There are solar panels on the roof to store up energy for when needed. The window’s glass panels allow enough sunlight in to keep the place warm during the day…”
I talk in the span of the next five minutes more than I’ve spoken over the past six months.
“You all grow everything you eat right here in town?” she asks with raised eyebrows.
I nod. “Most of it. We still get some of our meat and other produce from the city, though. And on our hunts,” I add.
“Hunt?” Her eyes bulge slightly. Then she shakes her head. “Everyone here looks so normal, it’s easy to forget you’re also wolves.”
I narrow my eyes.
Emery slaps a hand over her mouth.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, dropping her hand. “I didn’t mean to suggest that you’re not normal.” She places her hand to her forehead, lowering her face in shame.
I move her hand and lift her face by the chin. Yes, I need to read her lips, but there’s a pleasure I probably shouldn’t partake in by simply staring into her eyes.
“I know what you meant,” I tell her.
Her shoulders slump in relief.
“Anyway, your commune is impressive,” she says while looking around. “Ms. Elsie said you built your own home.”
I nod. “I’ve done the build for just about every building in our commune. All of us have. Chael, our alpha and my older brother, is the architect that designed most of the homes in our town. I just followed the design.”
She grabs my forearm. “That’s wonderful. That you’re able to build sustainable housing and a way of life for your pack.”
“I didn’t do it,” I tell her. “The alpha designs them and I help with the build on most structures.”
She cocks her head to the side and raises an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You had a larger role than that, I’m told. Ms. Elsie said?—”
“She talks too much,” I mumble.
I hold out my arm toward the bedroom. “This is where you’ll sleep. The bed is comfortable, and I changed the sheets and blanket before I left so everything’s ready for you to get a good night’s sleep.”
“You…you won’t be sleeping here?”
That question gets my wolf’s attention. As if he wasn’t already attentive simply by being in Emery’s presence. But warmth scorches across my lower belly. My hands tighten into fists, but I force myself to take a step back.
“I need to go for a run.”
She frowns and glances across at the clock on the kitchen wall. “At this time of night? It’s dark out.”
If I could hear her voice, I’m sure it would be laced with concern.
“My wolf,” I reply. “He needs to run.”
Run or something else, but I keep that part to myself.
“Oh.” Recognition dawns on her face.
“I do nightly checks around our commune’s perimeter.”
I take another step back and nod in the direction of the bedroom. “Get some rest. I’ll make sure not to make too much noise on my return.”
I watch for just as long as it takes her to turn and head into the bedroom. Then I pivot and exit the door I just entered. My heartbeat is beating too fast, blood rushes through my veins and my wolf is feeling antsy.
He paces back and forth inside of me, ready to come out.
I round my house to the backyard area and rip my shirt off. I barely make it out of my jeans and boxers before the tingling sensation courses through my body.
My skin prickles as my wolf’s fur springs out, and a second later, my bones bend and stretch to contort my body from a being on two legs into one on four.
After many years, the process of shifting doesn’t hurt. It only hurts the first few times, and for new pups, shifting can be scary. Which is why our pack has a Supermoon Ceremony a few times throughout the year to help the new pups as they make their first shift.
As soon as I’m on all four paws, I allow my wolf to take over. That is, after I strongly admonish him and tell him in no uncertain terms that we are not going back inside the house to watch Emery.
Once he gets that message, I let him direct us toward the woods that are about a hundred yards from the last home of our town. The woods create a natural barrier between us and other packs in the area. The mountains aid in further dividing the territories among the wolf, bear, and other types of shifter communities.
My wolf races along as I raise my snout, sniffing the air for anything strange or out of the ordinary. The typical scents pepper the air. I can tell I’m getting close to a bear shifter community when the odor changes slightly.
I divert the direction of my run to do an entire three-hundred-and-sixty-degree run around our town. Everything is as it should be.
Yet, I’m still feeling angsty.
The extra energy coursing through my limbs tells me it’s too soon to head back home.
Not while images of Emery in my bed run rampant throughout my mind. I direct my wolf to do another three-sixty around the commune and then I divert left to head toward the mountains.
Out this way is enough open space that I can allow my wolf to run for miles to tire him out.
I lose count of how long I’m in the mountains. It’s not until the scent of incoming rain makes me slowdown to take notice of the sky. Though it’s dark out, I still manage to spot the dark clouds in the distance.
A thunderstorm is on its way.
Given the darkness of the clouds, the speed of the wind picking up and the direction they’re moving, I give it about an hour to ninety minutes before the storm passes over our town.
I hesitate for a second to stare at the clouds that signal the incoming storm. A part of me should be terrified, considering this is how I lost my hearing.
What you want doesn’t matter!
The words my father yelled at me crash through my mind, ending my hesitation.
I need to get back to my pack to remind our members to put out their water buckets to collect the rainfall as well as the special panels we have that collect energy from the lightning strikes.
In our sustainable community, an incoming thunderstorm isn’t a bad thing at all.
It takes me about twenty minutes to get back to town. A number of our male members are already out setting up the water collection system and opening the energy collection panels.
I assist them for the next half an hour before they head inside for the night. It’s close to midnight. I assume Emery will be asleep once I return home. Which is why I don’t bother with putting on more clothes aside from my boxers once I shift from wolf to human again.
I move with the intention to be as quiet as possible as I enter the house to not wake her. I keep a blanket on the couch in my living room. Though it’s too small for me to stretch out on, I can sleep on the floor.
Yet, movement from the open door in the bedroom catches my attention. It’s as if there’s an invisible hand pushing me toward her.
“You’re not sleeping.”
She jumps and pivots toward the door with her mouth wide. I curse myself for scaring her.
“You’re back,” she says, her chest moving up and down rapidly.
For a split second I register her expression as fear, but quickly realize that’s not it. When her eyes brighten as she slowly looks me up and down. It’s then I remember that I’m only wearing a pair of boxers with my loose hair pouring over my shoulder, down to my abdomen.
Emery tucks her lower lip between her teeth. She hasn’t stopped staring at me.
No. It’s not fear she’s feeling at all.
I take a step in her direction.
When she doesn’t move, I take another.
“I couldn’t sleep,” she admits.
I step close enough so that we’re almost chest to chest. She’s wearing a dark green, sleeveless satin top with matching shorts. I quietly thank Mother Moon for granting us wolves fantastic eyesight.
With nothing but the moonlight in the distance from the open window, I can make out every contour of Emery’s body. Her smooth, brown skin looks perfect to touch.
Her breath hitches when I grasp her arms, stroking them up and down.
“Why couldn’t you sleep, Emery?” I ask while holding onto her.
Her eyes become glossy as she peers up at me. “I kept tossing and turning, thinking about that night.”
“At the motel?” I ask. “Those wolves won’t touch you,” I vow.
“What?” She shakes her head. “No, not that night.” She pushes out a breath. “When I was ten. The night our parents died.”
She stops and then does something that steals my breath. Emery gently lays her head against my chest, as if she needs me for strength.
There’s no hesitation on my part in answering the call.
I reach down and lift her into my arms. She startles a bit in surprise but a beat later, wraps her arms around my neck.
I carry us to the bed and sit with her in my lap, my back presses against the wooden headboard.
Emery doesn’t lift her head from my chest. Soon, I find myself running my thumb up and down the outline of her chin. Reverberation in my chest coupled with the movement of Emery’s jaw tells me she’s talking but I don’t know what she’s saying.
I don’t want to miss a word so I tilt her head toward mine, so that I can see her mouth as she speaks.
“I was ten when my birth parents died in a car accident. Ashley was only four. It was her birthday. My mom told me to watch Ashley for just a few minutes while she and my dad ran to the store to get the cake they ordered.”
Emery makes an expression as if she’s laughing.
“Ashley loved vanilla-flavored rainbow cakes. She still does.”
She shakes her head.
“The time kept getting later and later. When it started to storm Ashley ran to my lap, clutching the special rainbow pillow my parents bought for her.”
Emery looks me right in the eye.
“Whenever someone asks her what her favorite color is, she would always tells them ‘the rainbow.’”
She shakes her head.
“That night I told her everything would be okay. I promised her. My mom always told me it’s my job to look after my baby sister. I’ve done that. Since that night, when the police knocked on the door with our parent’s best friends to tell us they would never be coming home.
“When we moved to Upstate New York to live with those friends as our new parents. I looked out for my sister,” she tells me.
That’s when the first tear falls.
I wipe it away with the pad of my thumb.
“What if the same people that tried to attack me did something to her? What if she’s hurt and scared? She always calls me when she’s scared. Why didn’t I stay in Florida to find her?” she questions.
“It wasn’t safe for you in Florida,” I remind her.
She shakes her head. “If it isn’t safe for me, it probably isn’t safe for Ash either. I should’ve looked harder for her.”
I shake my head before wrapping Emery in my arms as her body begins to shake. It wasn’t safe for her in Florida. I still don’t know for sure who sent those wolves after her. Which means there could’ve been more of them.
The safest thing to do was to get Emery the hell out of there. Was it selfish of me? Yes, but my pack wasn’t around and I wasn’t certain of who, outside of a few, I could trust in Florida.
The safest option was to bring Emery here. Home.
Where she belongs.
I ignore my wolf’s words. Or was that from my human subconscious?
Either way, I ignore them both.
Emery doesn’t say anything else. Nor does she need to.
She’s terrified for her sister. Almost as bad, is she believes she’s the one who let Ashley down.
“We’ll find your sister,” I promise her.
There is no other option. I won’t allow Emery to blame herself or to go without knowing what’s happened to Ashley.
I lean down and press a kiss to her forehead. The need to do it again consumes me.
And when Emery tilts her head upward, her face merely inches from mine, a heat I’ve never known courses through me.
“Kiss me,” her lips say.
I cover those lips I’ve stared at, thought of, and fantasized about for the past two and a half days. Nothing could’ve prepared me for the touch of her lips on mine.
I tug her bottom lip in between my teeth, the same way I’ve seen her do multiple times in the last day. Then I run my tongue across that lip. There’s a vibration that I imagine is a groan escaping her lips.
“Fucking perfect,” I say against her lips because it’s the only coherent sentence I can come up with.
I pull back at the same time I wipe away another one of her tears. I have to remind myself that she was just crying over her missing sister. I can’t mount her like the beast inside of me wants.
Yet, when I go to pull away, Emery wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me to her. It doesn’t take much for me to give in to the kiss she’s silently begging for.
A searing hot flame threatens to take me over. My wolf roams just beneath the surface, urging me to take her. To mount her like an animal.
My hand moves from Emery’s side to the waistband of her satin shorts. I keep my other arm tucked around her as I reverse our bodies, so that I can lay her down on the bed.
I make a pathway down the length of her body with my kisses at the same time I slide the shorts down her legs. Everything inside of me wants to speed this up, to find out what it feels like to be inside of her.
But this isn’t about my wants. What I want isn’t important. It’s what Emery needs, and her body’s telling me she needs a release. And a place to feel safe.
Right before I push her legs apart, I look up at her face. Her lips move, forming my name. The center of my chest feels as if it’s about to explode with the desire to hear her voice. To hear her say my name.
Again, I tamp down on what it is I want. My wants don’t matter.
My first taste of Emery’s pussy opens up a hunger for more. Her hips rise off the bed. I don’t need to hear her, to know she’s asking for more. So, I give it to her.
I stack Emery’s legs over my shoulders and feast on her like she’s a full course meal. Except, she’s better. The way her legs tighten around my shoulders, her body withers and squirms beneath mine. But it’s when her hands snake their way into my hair, yanking on the strands that I nearly lose all of my control.
My cock becomes rock hard. My wolf howls inside of my chest. And while I can’t hear hers, I know she can hear the moans coming from me. I firm my hands around her waist, keeping her in place while I devour her pussy.
Fucking perfect.
Those are the only words that pass through my mind. The only two words that appropriately describe Emery.
I could get lost in her for hours, days, years. That still wouldn’t be long enough.
The thoughts running through my head should terrify me.
They do frighten me, and yet I can’t stop pleasuring her. Even once Emery comes for the first time, the hunger in me isn’t satiated.
I lap at her pussy again, pulling another orgasm out of her.
I move in for a third time, so blinded by the need for her that the pain prickling at my scalp doesn’t stop me.
It’s not until Emery firmly presses against my shoulders that I reluctantly pull away from her pussy.
“I-I can’t take anymore,” I read on her lips as she pants for air.
That’s when I realize I’ve almost blacked out, indulging in her sweetness.
Slowly, I manage to pull myself away from her core. I adjust our bodies, bringing Emery into my side as I lay against the pillow.
With one arm firmly wrapped around her, holding her to me, I bring my other hand to her chin so that I can stare into her face. I let my gaze roam over her expression. Did I push her too far?
Should I have held back more?
The questions swirl in my head, but before I can fully answer them for myself, Emery gives me a small smile.
“Thank you,” she says before pressing a kiss to the center of my chest.
Mate.
I don’t have the energy to refute my wolf’s insistent claim. Instead, I focus on Emery. The worry remains in her eyes, although it’s dulled.
After pressing a kiss to her forehead, I tell her, “You’re safe here. We’ll get to the bottom of what happened to your sister.”
She blinks once, looks me in the eyes for a beat and then nods.
I move to get off the bed, to let her get comfortable so she can get some sleep, but her hand on my arm stops me.
“Don’t leave.”
“You need to sleep. I’ll sleep in the living room.”
She shakes her head. “Please. Stay with me.”
As soon as she said the word ‘please’ there’s no way I could deny her.
I climb back onto the bed, my arm around her waist, holding her to me as she lays her head against the pillow.
My damn wolf actually sighs. If the bastard could, I know he’d be smiling.
Mate.
I pull Emery into me, leaving no space for even air to pass between our bodies. Within a matter of minutes, her breathing slows as she falls into a deep slumber.
Instead of sleep, I spend my time counting her inhales and exhales. With my hand across her body, I feel every rise and fall of her chest. I count her breaths and a sense of ease that I’ve never known comes over me.
At least two hours must pass before I, eventually, give in to the closing of my eyelids for the rest I desperately need.