Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
E mery
“And this one?” I point to the scene on the wall of a woman washing a man’s hair at the side of a river.
Chance and I have been in this cave for, what must be, hours. I’ve mentally recorded the background of a number of the drawings on the cave’s walls, as he’s told me about them.
He sits up from his position lying on his side, bringing me with him. He remains naked as he leans his body against the boulder. His long arms wrap around my waist, hugging me to him.
I should find it awkward or uncomfortable being here in a cave with a man who’s completely nude while I only wear a T-shirt and bra.
Yet, there’s no discomfort at all. Just the kind of intimacy I’ve been searching for my entire life.
I swallow at that thought. This can’t be real. Can it?
“For many generations,” he starts, answering my question. “Hairstyles were passed down from one generation to the next. The alphas of our pack always wore their hair past their waist, with a braid on each side. It was a symbol of our strength, our wisdom and even our secrets.”
“Secrets?”
He nods. “The style of our hair could signify a particular warning or plan to our pack members. It was a way of communicating without words.”
“That’s so interesting.”
I turn fully to place my hands on his shoulders. “While in college I did research on enslaved Africans in the Americas. Hair was one way in which people who’d been forcibly removed from their way of life, were able to preserve some of their culture.”
Chance tilts his head to the side, giving me his full attention. It encourages me to continue.
“Enslaved women would often wear their hair in braided styles and hide food in the plats. That’s how a lot of foods from West Africa crossed the ocean. Some braided styles were also used as maps for escapees to know which way was North.”
I push out a breath in amazement as I recall my research.
I brush my fingers through the hair that spills over the side of Chance’s face.
“There’s a whole world of stories and memories that exist in a culture’s hairstyle.”
Chance’s eyelids grow heavy as his lips spread into a smile.
“I felt it the moment you began washing my hair.”
My eyebrows spike. “At the river?”
He nods.
A shiver runs through me as I recall the feel of his powerful body between mine as I washed his hair. It felt as if I was engaging in some sort of sacred practice. When I began drying his hair, and he pulled me into his arms for the firmest hug, there was an energy exchange between us that was incredible, yet difficult to put into words.
It left me breathless.
The stirring in my belly that’d been on a low simmer before, erupted at that moment, and hasn’t gone out yet.
“That was the moment, I knew.” He shakes his head. “No, that was the moment I accepted it,” he finishes, finger lifting my chin so I have no choice but to look at him.
“Accepted what?”
“That you’re my mate, Emery. And there’s nothing I want more than you.”
His eyes glow as he makes this statement in a calm, yet completely affirmative manner. In other words, in typical Chance fashion.
“I-I don’t know what it means to be someone’s mate,” I confess.
A wife?
A spouse?
Sure, those terms I’m familiar with. But mates feel like it has an even deeper context than how we humans treat marriage. Ms. Elsie told me a few days ago that, much of the time, wolves mate for life.
Separation is uncommon save for the death of a mate.
“You know more than you believe you do,” he says while running a hand over the top of my head.
A brief thought passes through my mind over how unkempt my hair must look. Then I remember that I’m in a cave with a naked man who can turn into a wolf. The same man who’s just told me I’m his fated mate, I think.
Thoughts of my hair fall away and suddenly I want to know everything about Chance. Starting with…
I don’t put much thought into it before I lift my hand and trace one of his earlobes with my finger. A shiver runs through his body, but he doesn’t push my hand away.
“How did it happen?”
He searches my gaze as if determining how much or what to tell me.
“I want to know about my mate,” the words fall from me naturally. As soon as they do, that stirring in my belly unfurls a bit and a sense of warm, calm falls over me.
The glimmer in Chance’s eyes that had been present, but relatively low, ignites.
“I was nine. A storm was coming in. Everyone knows during a storm, we typically find lower ground, stay away from trees, but find some sort of cover. This was long before our pack relocated here to New Mexico and had our own commune.”
I continue tracing his ear with my finger as he recounts the story.
“I defied my father, and instead of remaining inside during the storm, I went out on one of the trails. It happened before my first shift so I couldn’t run the trails in my wolf form. But I just had an urge to be outside. To see the rain up close.”
He shifts his gaze away from me, lowering it to the ground.
“When it became too intense, I forgot about my father’s warning about staying away from trees during a storm. I took cover under a large tree to shield me from the winds and pelting rain. A bolt of lightning struck the tree as I leaned against the trunk. I was struck too.”
I gasp and cover my mouth with my hand.
Chance pulls my hand from my mouth and kisses my palm, as if I’m the one who needs comfort.
He shakes his head.
“I don’t remember what happened immediately after that. I must’ve passed out. I was later told, two of my father’s betas came searching for me and found me ten feet away from the tree, unconscious.
“The next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital a couple of days later. Everything was so silent. At first, I thought I was going crazy. I yelled and screamed, but couldn’t hear my own voice.
“Dr. Drake, my mother, father, and Chael tried to calm me down. It took a while for everyone to realize that I couldn’t hear. Dr. Drake told us that it might return, but no one knew for sure.”
He trails off.
It never did return.
My heart aches for him as I stroke his cheek.
“It was my selfishness, my defiance that cost me my hearing,” he says fiercely. As if he blames himself for the actions of a child. “I was born to be the lead beta of my pack. To be the head of our pack’s security and to carry out the requests of our alpha. My selfish decision nearly ruined everything.”
I shake my head, not understanding.
I cup his face, bringing it to me so he can see me when I tell him, “You were a child. A little boy.”
“I should’ve known better,” he insists. “The safety of my pack is my responsibility and because of my silly want to…” He trails off. “I shouldn’t have been out there.”
The tone of his voice lets me know he won’t stop blaming himself.
“But you haven’t let anyone down,” I tell him, still holding his face in between my hands. “Your pack respects and admires you. They know how well you protect them. Not one of them thinks of you as defective or less than because of your lack of hearing.”
He attempts to turn away, but I hold on to his face.
“They don’t blame you. So, it’s time you stop blaming yourself for the actions of a child. You’ve overcome your perceived defect. I wish you knew how your pack talks about you when you’re not around. You think they were just messing with you when they stared at you for having lunch or breakfast with them all?”
I shake my head.
“They like having you around,” I fiercely tell him. “Everyone would like to see more of you, but they respect your need to be in protective mode. But your pack loves you and is grateful for you…just like I am. There’s nothing about you any of us would change.”
I don’t have time to process how I’ve started talking about the pack as if I’m one of them. It wasn’t my intention to speak for them all, but I hear the admiration in their voices whenever Chance’s name is mentioned.
Ms. Elsie told me about how it was Chance who acted quickly to save the pack last year when a rogue member of the Alliance tried to kill them all. They always speak about how helpful he is and how he goes the extra mile by doing rigorous nightly patrols just to make sure they all feel safe.
I would’ve told Chance all of this and more, but his lips are too busy covering mine.
The kiss recharges the energy around us in a way that leaves my nipples hardening to the point of pain.
Chance acts as if he feels the discomfort the bra and shirt cause to my nipples, because he quickly strips me of said clothing before covering one of my breasts with his hot mouth.
A moan slips from my lips and my head falls back. Pure pleasure races through me.
Chance moves his body up higher on the boulder, bringing me with him. He cups my thighs and brings my legs to straddle his. My pussy hovers just above his rock hard cock.
“Chance,” I whisper his name like a plea.
“Mine,” he growls. The sound is so charged that I know he’s put a little bit of his wolf into that one word.
“Yours.” My response comes quickly, as if a separate being from within me is responding. I don’t have the words to put a name to it, but I can’t disagree with it either. “Yours,” I say again because it feels so right to say it.
Chance lowers me onto him, easily sliding inside of me.
Even though I’ve had him inside of me just a while earlier, he still feels so damn full that it steals my breath. I doubt I’ll ever get used to the richness of having him fill me up like this.
“Mine,” he growls repeatedly as he grips my hips and moves me up and down his length.
I tighten my arms around his shoulders and grab a handful of his hair, pulling his lips to mine. He captures my lips, his mouth claiming me without words.
In his arms, like this, there’s a safety I never knew. There’s no shame in how I should or shouldn’t behave. No embarrassment or need to apologize for being too much—too greedy, too sexual, too aggressive.
I can be just me.
I tug and pull at his hair with one hand while the nails of my other hand dig into his skin. I bounce my hips, meeting each one of his strokes.
My orgasm comes fast and hard. It tears through me, pulling a scream from the lips that reverberates off the cave walls surrounding us. Chance wraps a hand around my throat. Instinctively, I know it’s so he can “hear” me come for him.
Seconds later, he’s coming inside of me. A thunderous growl tears from his lips, calling to the deep restlessness that’s always been a part of me.
I take his thumb into my mouth, biting and sucking it as he comes. Our eyes lock as he comes. One word echoes in my mind.
Mine.