Lycan Redemption

 Lycan -8

S. K. Yule

Chapter One

Did they actually think they could catch him? At this point, he hoped they did. He was tired of running. He was an ancient who chose to live his own life. He never went against the lycan laws, but he refused to answer to anyone. He was his own man. Always had been. Always would be.

Sanctuary was a place run by his kind, mostly ancients and their mates, a place where rogues who were thought fit enough to reform were taken. Six months ago, he had been labeled a rogue and had been relentlessly chased ever since. The few times he’d tried to talk some sense into his pursuers, they hadn’t been particularly open to discussion. That put him in a difficult situation: continue to run from or fight his own kind. If he chose the latter, things wouldn’t turn out well for them.

He had no desire to kill any of his species. He’d done enough killing in his lifetime, but he’d had enough of this chase-the-rabbit bullshit. If they’d give him a damned second to explain, they’d see he was probably older then all of them put together and wasn’t the monster they thought him to be. He’d been around a long time. A. Damned. Long. Time.

“Whenever I find that little punk-ass motherfucker, I’m going to rip his fucking head off,” he muttered. When he found Terrance, he’d make an exception to not killing his own kind.

Terrance. The whiny bitch he’d had a run-in with nearly a year ago was the reason he’d spent the last several months in hell. He’d had plenty of time to figure out who had labeled him a rogue, who had set Sanctuary on his ass, and every path led back to Terrance. Terrance was the only connection he had with Sanctuary. Galen had sent the rogue there eight months ago and didn’t believe it to be a coincidence that all of his problems started shortly thereafter.

From little bits of rumors he caught here and there, he’d put enough pieces together to figure out that Terrance had taken revenge against him by telling the ancients at Sanctuary that he, Galen Soloman, had been his leader. That he was a ruthless rogue. One who had committed atrocious acts against his own kind and their potential mates, which had resulted in the amped-up man—wolf—hunt.

He’d lost his last pursuers over a week ago and had covered his tracks well. It would take a while for them to find him again, but they would. Eventually. For now, he was tired, pissed off, and hungry. Looking around the thick forest darkening with the quickly sinking sun, he’d resigned himself to another night of sleeping on the cold ground and nibbling on what little berries and bugs he could find. But seconds later, he came to a clearing.

He stood at the tree line staring at the quaint cedar-shingled farmhouse, surprised to find it neatly tucked into the middle of nowhere. He sniffed the air, trying to detect any present danger, when every muscle in his body tensed. His wolf frantically clawed at the surface for release, and a deep rumble emanated from his chest.

“Fuck no. Why now?” He clenched his teeth hard to fight back the urge to immediately claim what was his.

His mate. He’d longed for her, yearned to meet the one woman who was fated for him, who he was fated for, for more years than he could count. He’d come to the conclusion long ago that he would never find her, whether that meant she simply didn’t exist or someone else had gotten to her first. But she was here.

His stomach clenched in a ball of knots. The thought of another laying one finger on her sent murderous urges through his head, sent bony fingers of jealousy slithering through every cell of his being. Why had fate led him to her now when he was in the mess he was in? Because fate is a bitch, and life enjoys kicking you in the teeth when you’re already down.

Over the last few years, he’d become hard and bitter. He wasn’t gentle, and his mate deserved a man with a big heart, a man who would show her romance and tenderness. He was not that man. At one time? Maybe. Now? No. Nonetheless, every single fiber of him answered to her call, a call she had no idea she was silently, but potently emitting.

Not even his ironclad willpower gave him a snowball’s chance in hell of resisting. Every cell, every molecule that made him who he was needed to see her face, hear her voice. A force pulled him by invisible strings, like a puppet, in her direction. He stepped into the clearing and approached the farmhouse with cautious determination. He promised himself he’d get a glimpse and move on, but when he laid eyes upon her for the first time . . .

Inky black hair swept off her head in a messy, knotted ponytail gleamed in the waning sunlight. Smooth and flawless skin turned golden from the sun made his fingers itch to caress every inch of her. And when she turned toward him and found him watching her, the breath whooshed from his lungs. Her blue-violet eyes widened, and her full lips formed an O. He was a lost cause. She was his. The other half of his soul. A glimpse would never be enough.

Yep. I’m fucked.

* * *

Myka sighed as she shoveled the last scoop of sawdust into the stall. She was tired, grumpy, and sweaty. Running a farm, however small it may be, was difficult—even more so since her last farmhand left without notice three months ago. She’d placed an ad in the local paper for help, but hadn’t expected much to come of it.

Living on the outskirts of a tiny rural town in Montana close to Saskatchewan, surrounded by hundreds of acres of open woodland, wasn’t exactly conducive to luring job seekers. Her life had been simple until six months ago, when her brother had been killed in a freak accident at work. She’d suddenly found that simple life turned upside down after losing the next-to-only family she had and gaining sole custody of Travis’s five-year-old son, Patrick. She loved Patrick, but had no idea how to be a mother to him.

She, on the other hand, had been determined to figure it out. She’d never abandon him like his mother had. Patrick didn’t remember his mother, Lauren, as she had left Travis when Patrick was barely a year old. She’d simply walked out of their lives and never glanced back, never been heard from again. Myka couldn’t count the times she’d wondered how a mother could cut her own child out of her life as if he was nothing more than a once-adored goldfish she’d grown tired of and flushed down the toilet. Travis had never fully recovered from Lauren’s abandonment.

That didn’t alter the fact that although Patrick didn’t remember his mother, he’d been more than aware that he was different because he didn’t have one. While she could stand back and see how fortunate Patrick was to have a stable life with a father who adored him, Patrick was a little boy who simply didn’t understand what had happened to his mommy. To make things worse, Travis’s refusal to talk about Lauren only confused Patrick more. Myka wasn’t sure how to handle that particular subject herself—because she was sure one day, probably sooner than later, Patrick would ask about his mother. How did one explain to a little boy that his mother no longer wanted him or his father?

Since Travis’s death, things had gradually worked themselves out, and she and Patrick had fallen into a routine of sorts. Unfortunately, the work around the farm had nearly doubled since she’d become responsible for Patrick. She’d gotten by fine on her own, but she had to support Patrick now as well. The additional produce needed to be grown, chickens for more eggs, and horses to board to make ends meet were taking a toll on her.

By the end of each day of taking care of the animals and attempting to check as many things off her to-do list as possible, she was barely able to get dinner cooked and spend some time with Patrick before falling into bed in an exhausted heap. He helped her as much as a little boy could, but he was not a man, and she was determined that he spend as much of his childhood as possible being a kid instead of being weighted down with adult responsibilities. They needed help in a bad way, but she was no quitter. She’d make the best of the situation.

She stretched her arms above her head as she walked out of the barn toward the house. Damn, she was stiff and sore. Halfway to the house, she came to an abrupt halt. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and a strange feeling that she was being watched slid through her. It wasn’t uncommon for her to get that feeling. Being out in the middle of nowhere surrounded by thick woods had a way of occasionally playing with one’s mind. When it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her, she figured she was probably being watched by some kind of animal. This time the feeling was different. It wasn’t a fleeting moment of sudden awareness that she could brush off. The way her skin tingled told her this was more than a random unexplainable feeling.

She carefully searched the perimeter of the old cedar farmhouse, but couldn’t find anything amiss. It wasn’t until she turned her gaze to the tree line bordering the pasture that she noticed a man standing in the clearing watching her. She slid her gaze back to the house, relieved that Patrick was safely ensconced inside. She didn’t have a reason to think the man was a threat, but she had no reason to believe otherwise either. She tensed as he started in her direction.

She was relieved that he walked slowly and kept his hands in plain sight by his sides as if trying to silently communicate that he was no threat. She didn’t get any bad vibes from him, didn’t instantly feel the need to flee, but she couldn’t overlook that she and Patrick were alone and miles from civilization. She was her nephew’s only protection, and she didn’t take that duty lightly.

The man stopped about twenty feet from her, and her pulse amped up when she got a better look at him. He was huge. His hair was dark and a bit long and uneven, as if it had been a while since he’d had a haircut. He wore dark jeans, black hiking boots, and a dark green T-shirt. His deeply tanned skin told her he probably spent several hours a day in the sun. His scruff gave him a somewhat haggard look, and although he appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties, his lean, muscular body was in prime condition.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Name’s Galen.”

A shiver that had nothing to do with the crisp fall breeze on her sweat-dampened skin ran up her spine as the sound of his quiet, gravelly voice warmed her like the late summer sun. She was startled that the voice of a stranger should affect her in such a way, but quickly forgot that conundrum when he took another step closer and she stared into his light hazel eyes. They reminded her of clear pools of liquid silver, and she barely kept a sigh from escaping her lips at the sheer beauty of them.

Snap out of it, Myka. You’re drooling over a man that just appeared out of nowhere on your property. Then it hit her. He was here for the job. She’d gotten riled up over nothing. Jump to conclusions much?

“Are you here for the job?”

He hesitated for only a moment before nodding. “Yes, ma’am.”

Ma’am. Damn, how she hated to be called ma’am. Made her feel older than dirt, and she was only twenty-five.

“Have you had any experience with animals?”

“I’ve had plenty of experience with animals.” A slight smile tugged at the corner of his full lips.

She eyed him again. He was in tip-top form for physical work. He’d have no problem handling the things she needed help with.

“Are you good at fixing things?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Please stop calling me ma’am. My name is Myka Dougan. Call me Myka.”

“Myka.”

The way he said her name, as if tasting every letter on his tongue, made goose bumps of awareness raise on her skin. His voice was like a smooth shot of whiskey. He was too good-looking, and she was too damned attracted to him. She’d be better off sending him away, but she needed the help too much to risk losing the only person who’d shown any interest in the position. She’d do what was right. She’d smack her hormones into submission and give Galen the job so she could spend more time with Patrick.

“Where are your things, Galen?”

“Left ‘em in the timber.” He nodded his head toward the tree line he’d emerged from. “Wasn’t for sure if I’d be needing them or not.”

“Oh. Well, if you want to give the job a trial run, I sure could use the help. I don’t think you’ll find things around here overly demanding, but there’s more work than I can handle on my own.”

“I’ll do whatever you need me to do, ma’am—Myka.”

“Have you had dinner?”

His stomach growled loudly in response, and she grinned. Her nerves were settling, and relief at the prospect of finally getting some help settled over her.

“I’ll take that as a no,” she said. “If you want to get your things, there is a small apartment in the back of the barn. It’s not much, but it’s clean and comfortable. There’s a mini fridge, electric burner, and microwave. You have your own bathroom as well. Again, nothing fancy, but it’s functional. I can’t pay much over the free board and meals.”

She frowned. They hadn’t discussed wages. One hundred dollars a week plus room and meals wasn’t much. He’d probably turn tail and run when he found out.

“I’ll do the job for meals and board.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Why?” He shrugged.

Yeah. Why? She could use that money for clothes and food and supplies. But her guilty conscience got the better of her.

“The job is room, meals, and one hundred a week.”

“I’ll do it for the meals and board,” he insisted.

“We’ll see,” she said quietly. “Get your things and meet me at the house after you get settled. Dinner is in the Crock-Pot. After we eat, I’ll get you some clean towels, sheets, and blankets.”

He nodded and turned back toward the woods.

“Oh.”

He stopped when she spoke.

“How do you feel about children, Galen?”

“Can’t say I’ve been around many, but I don’t dislike them.”

“That’s another stipulation of the job. You will need to get along with Patrick. He lost his father six months ago, and I don’t want any more drama in his life.”

He nodded and continued for the tree line.

She watched him for a few more seconds, then made her way to the house.

* * *

His mate had a child? He hadn’t expected her to be a virgin, but the fact that she had a child made a knot the size of Mount Everest take residence in his gut. The thought of another man touching her, of her bearing another man’s baby, made him a little crazy. He wasn’t a double standard type of guy. What she did and with whom was her choice. He was no innocent by any means, and wasn’t naive enough to believe that a grown woman would wait around for someone she never knew existed.

Galen gritted his teeth. Nothing she’d done in the past—nothing in the future, for that matter—had the power to make him feel differently about her. She was his mate, and any child of hers would be cherished, protected, and loved by him just as she would be.

He snorted. He’d just gotten a lucky break, and all he could do was bitch and moan over the fact that Myka had a life before him. He had a roof over his head, meals, and his mate. He shouldn’t stay. He should get his bag of belongings stashed in the timber and move on. He shouldn’t risk putting Myka or the kid in danger, but how could he possibly pass up a chance like this? Falling into a job he didn’t know existed? How had that not been fate giving him an obvious shove toward his destination, no matter how temporary it might be?

While he wouldn’t be able to stay with her forever like he should be able to—like he already wanted to—he couldn’t deny this was the perfect place to hole up. Rugged terrain and escape into Canada but a breath away. What more could he ask under the given circumstances? Once the other lycans came for him, and eventually they would, he’d lure them away before they found her. He’d never put her in danger because of his selfishness. He may have only just met her, but he’d give his life in a heartbeat to keep her safe. No matter how things ultimately played out, she was his. Forever. He was hers. Forever.

Chapter Two

“Patrick?” Myka called out as she entered the small mudroom connected to the kitchen.

She hung her coat on a hook by the door and pulled her boots off. Patrick had been helping her in the barn earlier, but once they’d gotten close to finishing up the last stall, she’d sent him to the house to get cleaned up for dinner. The delay with Galen may have given the little boy just enough time to find trouble.

Patrick was a great kid with a huge heart, but he had an inclination for mischief. There wasn’t a mean bone in the kid’s body. Unfortunately, he was not only the spitting image of Travis physically but had inherited his father’s penchant for attracting trouble. Travis never looked for trouble, but it had persistently followed him wherever he’d gone. A slight flutter of panic hit her in the gut when she remembered the late-night phone call six months ago from Travis’s employer, and she hurried down the hall to check the bathroom.

She smiled in relief when she peeked through the crack of the partially closed door and saw Patrick. He was standing on the red step stool she’d gotten him, in front of the sink, brushing his teeth. She shook her head before patting the door lightly.

“Dinner will be ready in fifteen. Hurry up. We’re going to have company.”

She didn’t wait for his answer as she made her way back to the kitchen. The robust scent of the roast, potatoes, and carrots she’d put in the Crock-Pot this morning wafted enticingly through the house. She washed her hands, retrieved a head of lettuce from the fridge, rinsed it, and placed it on a cutting board. She found a bowl in the lower cabinet, then got to work cutting up the green leaves for salad.

Once finished, she rinsed the knife and cutting board before placing them in the strainer to air-dry. By the time she’d sprinkled shredded cheese on the salad and gotten the dressing out, Patrick was standing beside her.

“Who’s coming for dinner? We never have guests.”

She was happy to see him exert the general enthusiasm and curiosity a little boy should about such a thing. She’d been worried about Patrick for months after Travis’s death. He’d been sullen, withdrawn, and depressed for much longer than she thought was healthy. With the help of Ms. Case—Betty, a psychiatrist who’d chosen Loring, Montana, for her retirement home—Patrick had slowly shown improvement over the past few months. Betty had refused any kind of payment for helping Patrick, which had been a blessing since Myka hadn’t had the funds to pay for therapy. That hadn’t stopped her from slipping Betty fresh eggs and produce here and there whenever possible.

Patrick was technically supposed to start kindergarten in a couple weeks, but Betty suggested waiting until next year considering the recent trauma of losing his father. Myka had agreed, but in compromise took him to a local day care once a week for a supervised play day. She and Betty both wanted Patrick to maintain as normal of a life as possible in the rural community, wanted to expose him to other children and give him every opportunity to have friends and be a typical kid.

On the day that Patrick went to day care, Myka took care of errands and occasionally made the trip to neighboring Malta for supplies that weren’t always readily available in her small community. Over time, Patrick had come out of his shell, and had become a happy, carefree boy. Myka would always struggle with her brother’s death, and she was an adult who understood that death was a part of life. She couldn’t begin to imagine the pain Patrick felt, a child who couldn’t comprehend the full meaning of death.

He simply couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that his father was never coming back. How did one explain death to a five-year-old? She’d had no idea, and that was where their guardian angel, Betty, had entered. While Myka wasn’t an atheist, she didn’t belong to a specific religion either. She believed that there was a higher power out there somewhere, someone who had created the earth and everything on it—the universe, for that matter—but she wasn’t sure exactly who or what that someone was. However, when she and Betty together decided that Patrick might deal better with his father’s passing if he thought of Travis as an angel, Myka had had no problem with it if it provided any measure of comfort for him.

Besides, why couldn’t angels exist? Weren’t angels, after all, beings of protection, light, and kindness? An angel didn’t necessarily have to have a halo and wings, as was the wide-believed notion. An angel, in her opinion, was someone who came into one’s life when all hope seemed lost. Someone who lent a guiding hand and a kind heart. Someone who could help one find the right path in life. Travis would do all of that and more for Patrick if he were still alive. If there was an afterlife, she had no doubt he’d do that for Patrick from there as well.

“We have a new farmhand, Patrick. His name is Galen, but you should call him Mr.—” That’s when she realized he hadn’t told her his last name.

“The last name is Soloman, but I’d prefer to be called Galen if that would be okay with you, Myka.”

She spun around to find Galen standing in the doorway.

“I didn’t mean to startle you. I knocked, but you were obviously preoccupied.”

“It’s okay.”

“Patrick, this is Galen Soloman. If he doesn’t mind you calling him Galen, I’m okay with that.”

She quietly watched as Patrick sized Galen up. After a few moments of apparent indecision, he slowly walked to him, cocked his head to the side, and offered his hand. The resemblance to Travis was uncanny, but she saw traits coming out that were uniquely Patrick as well.

Galen squatted, then firmly but gently clasped Patrick’s hand. Myka swallowed around a lump in her throat. There was something about watching a big man like Galen interact with a little boy like Patrick that melted her heart. Galen stood and followed Patrick over to the table. Suddenly, the moderately sized kitchen felt cramped.

“Have a seat. I’m finishing up dinner.”

“Anything I can help with?” Galen asked.

Patrick sat across the table from Galen, intently watching every move he made, but Galen didn’t seem to mind.

“Patrick, why don’t you ask Galen to help you set the table?”

“Wanna help?” Patrick asked.

“Sure.” Galen nodded.

She put the pot roast and veggies on a platter while Galen and Patrick got plates, silverware, and glasses placed for each of them. After putting the food on the table, and filling the glasses with iced tea—milk for Patrick—they all sat down. She glanced at Galen. It would take her a while to get used to his size. He had to be a good six and a half feet tall. His biceps were well-defined, along with the muscles in his forearms, and his fingers were long and straight and looked made for hard labor. He was quite an amazing-looking man, but she felt like a midget next to him. Barely topping out at five feet, she’d grown accustomed to feeling small around most others, but Galen was a whole other story.

“Dang it!” She snapped her fingers.

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked.

“Forgot the biscuits.”

“Looks like a wonderful dinner, Myka. I’m okay with no biscuits,” Galen said.

“Me too!” Patrick readily agreed.

She couldn’t help but smile.

“Okay. No biscuits. Eat up.”

She was about to ask Patrick if he needed help getting his food, when he held his plate up, and Galen began scooping some roast and veggies onto it.

“Enough?” Galen asked, and Patrick nodded.

Galen then passed the platter to Myka and waited until she was finished before filling his own plate. She couldn’t deny he had great manners.

“Patrick, don’t forget your salad.”

“Aw, I don’t want none,” he scoffed.

“It’ll help you grow big and strong,” Galen said before flexing his bicep at him.

Patrick’s eyes widened, and he piled some lettuce high on his plate before smothering it in dressing. She wished she was able to convince Patrick to eat the things he didn’t necessarily want with that trick, but was sure her muscles weren’t anywhere near as convincing as Galen’s. After she and Galen got their salad, they began to eat. When Galen took his first bite, his eyes closed, and he groaned.

“Something wrong?” she said in alarm.

His hazel eyes opened, and the force of his stare slammed into her.

“Sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a meal this incredible.”

“Thank you.” She smiled. “There’s plenty. Don’t be shy. I have pie for dessert.”

“Pie? Ohhhh. I think I’m in heaven,” Galen answered.

Myka’s tummy warmed with contentment at the compliment.

“That’s where Daddy is,” Patrick said before cramming some roast into his mouth.

Galen cast a quick glance at Myka before taking another bite.

“Heaven is lucky to have him,” Galen said.

Myka’s tension drained as easily as it had mounted when Patrick seemed satisfied with Galen’s comment. The rest of dinner was fairly quiet, her attention captured by the amount of food Galen ate. She and Patrick usually had loads of leftovers from pot roast night, but now barely enough remained for one plateful—which was a good thing in her opinion since she wouldn’t have to figure out how to get it all eaten before it went bad. She hated wasting food.

After Galen and Patrick helped her clean off the table, she cut pieces of peach pie for them all.

“Can I watch cartoons while I eat my pie?” Patrick asked.

“You know we don’t watch television while we eat, right?”

He frowned and shook his head.

“But I’ll let you do it this one time.”

“Woo hoo!” Patrick jumped up and carried the pie as fast as he could without spilling it toward the living room.

“He’s a great kid,” Galen said before taking a bite of the pie.

This time when he closed his eyes and moaned, she forced back a giggle.

“He is a great kid. Would you like some coffee?”

“If it’s not an inconvenience.”

“None at all.” She poured them both a cup before sitting back down. “You have a way with him,” she said before taking a bite.

Galen said nothing. As far as she could tell thus far, he wasn’t a man of many words. Some might take that as a sign that he was hiding something, and he very well could be for all she knew. He had an edge about him that she couldn’t quite describe. It was as if his quietness was deliberate. Deliberate for what reason she wasn’t sure. If she had to take a guess, she’d say that he did it to blend into the background.

Even when he’d approached her from the tree line, he’d had a way with his body language. He was one of those rare people who could communicate with his actions in a way that was natural and unnoticeable until scrutinized. People spoke volumes with body language regularly, but most didn’t realize they were doing it. On the other hand, most didn’t pick up on it either, so reliant on technology for communication in this day and age.

Galen didn’t strike her as a guy who’d give much notice to today’s gadgets and technology. He reminded her of a predator who relied solely on instinct. She didn’t understand why she thought all of this about someone she’d only just met, and chastised herself for jumping to conclusions about him when she had no idea if anything she was thinking was true. Judging people without knowing them was one of man’s great downfalls.

“Where are you from?” she asked.

She watched him for any hint that he might be in trouble or running. That question would make most who were flinch or give some telltale sign that it was a touchy subject. Galen didn’t miss a beat as he forked the last bite of his pie into his mouth.

“All over,” he said.

“Well that narrows it down,” she said before sipping her steamy black coffee from her favorite red mug.

He swallowed and trained his hazel eyes on her. After a couple minutes, she had to quell the urge to squirm under his gaze. The way he watched her was unsettling, but also managed to start a slow fire burning in her belly.

* * *

Galen watched Myka. She tried hard to conceal the discomfort she felt under his gaze, but he was an expert at reading people. Her questions weren’t meant to be nosy. He was sure of it. Strangely, he wished he could tell her everything about his life, including the current fucked-up predicament he was in. But he couldn’t.

He’d been in tune to his instincts and body every second of every day for as long as he could remember, but Myka had the ability to make him forget everything with one smile of her full, pouty lips. He wanted to throw her to the floor, rip her clothes off with his teeth, and claim her. But not only that. It wasn’t just about sex. He wanted to hold her in his arms, feel her snuggled against his chest as her breaths from their lovemaking evened out into sleep.

A slow ache had started in his chest when he’d first seen her, and now just a short time later, that ache had spread throughout every cell and into every limb. It was a yearning, a throbbing beat of need that would get stronger every day.

He was lonely, and now that he’d found his mate, all he wanted was a chance to love her, to make her love him. He didn’t have that luxury. If he lost focus, if he slipped up, he could place her in danger. Being here in itself was risky, and he should simply disappear from her life and move on tonight. But he was a predator, and his wolf wanted its mate nearly as bad as his human side did. He was an ancient. His instincts were sharpened by experience, and if he kept his head on straight, he could have this stolen, precious time with her without putting her in danger.

“Myka.” Her name tasted as sweet on his lips as he knew she would. “I’m not in trouble with the law.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie. He wasn’t in trouble with the law. His trouble involved something far deadlier than the justice system. If he could only explain to her what he was, but he could not open his world to her since he had no intention of claiming her. Maybe one day he’d be able to clean up the mess he was in and come back for her, but this was not that time, no matter how much his soul, his heart screamed that they didn’t care. They wanted her at any cost.

He couldn’t risk her life, and he couldn’t forget about Patrick either. The boy was smart and intuitive. He’d liked him instantly, and Patrick’s curiosity had been an indication that he liked Galen as well. He doubted it would be easy to get close to Patrick with the recent loss of his father. While Galen was fond of Patrick, would have no problem being a father to him, he didn’t want to encourage the relationship only to end up hurting the kid in the end.

“Oh! I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. You have every right to ask that of me. After all, I am a stranger, and I’m staying at your place.” He leaned back in the chair. “I’m a private man, but I give you my word that I will never do anything to hurt you or Patrick. I will work hard for you, and I will watch over both of you while I’m here.”

She smiled at him, and his heart nearly leaped up in his throat. Damn but she was beautiful. And tiny. She was so small he was worried she might break if he bumped into her. He had a foot and a half on her, and he had to be careful not to let his wolf get too rambunctious. The fact that he could hurt her so easily scared the hell out of him.

“Fair enough. Did you find your room in the barn all right?”

He nodded.

“I’ll get you some towels, sheets, and that blanket then.”

When she reached for his empty plate, he covered her hand with his. Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open when she looked up at him. The electricity that sparked from that touch shot straight to his groin, and he beat down the growl that threatened to erupt from his chest. He was sure she’d felt it too.

“I’ll clean up.”

She nodded, and slowly tugged her hand from under his before getting up and hurriedly disappearing into the other room. He licked his lips and threatened his cock with bodily harm if it didn’t settle down. Unfortunately, it took his threat as a challenge. Myka might be small, but she had a nice curvy butt he’d like to sink his fingers into while pounding into her sweet, creamy— Stop it! He growled to himself.

By the time he’d put the plates in the sink, she’d returned. Patrick followed her with his own plate and glass.

“You leaving now, Galen?” he asked as he put his dishes in the sink.

“Yep. Myka says I have to stay in the barn.” He winked at Patrick. “Which is exactly where I belong.”

Patrick grinned, waved, then ran back into the other room.

“Here.” Myka handed him the pile of linens.

“Thank you. What do you need me to do in the morning? I’m an early riser.”

That was an understatement. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept for more than a couple hours.

“I stripped the stalls today. There are six of them. They will need picked out every day and stripped once a week. I’ll show you what and how much to feed the horses as well. They will need watered daily too. It’s taken care of for this evening. I turn them out every morning unless the weather is bad. Two of the horses, the black-and-white mare and gelding named Buddy and Chloe, are mine—actually, Buddy is Patrick’s. The other four are boarders. Patrick is not allowed around the horses unsupervised. There are some repairs that need done on the house, barn, and chicken coop, and the pasture fencing will need maintained regularly. There’s more, but I’ll fill you in as we go along.”

Which meant she’d fill him in if he was still around.

“See you tomorrow then, Myka.”

“Oh. Tomorrow, Mr. Ryan—Tom—will be delivering my hay stock for the rest of fall and winter. I’ll need help unloading and stacking it in the barn. It’s a big load, around six hundred bales.”

He frowned. “Did you have someone else besides me lined up to help tomorrow?”

“Nope. It would have been a long day for me and Tom. I’m glad you’ll be here to help. Tom will be happy to see you too.”

“Are you telling me that you would have unloaded all six hundred bales yourself?”

“No. Tom helps.”

He was impressed if a little slip of a thing like her could unload six hundred bales of hay in a day. He wasn’t sexist by any means. He’d met women in his time who were stronger than a lot of men. He supposed he was reverting back to caveman days because she was his mate. He didn’t like the thought of her working so hard. Whether she was in shape and strong or not, her size alone would make it a challenge to handle the awkward, heavy bales.

“I’m sure Tom and I can deal with the hay tomorrow if you have other things to do.”

“I always do my part.” She squared her slim shoulders.

He hadn’t thought it would be that easy to dissuade her. Although he’d known her a short time, he had no doubt of her responsible and probably stubborn nature. She would have never gotten by on her own out here taking care of Patrick thus far without those two traits. He admired her for her strength, but at the same time hoped his stay would make things easier for her. Tomorrow he’d have to make sure to find a way to distract her as much as possible from the hay.

“I have no doubt of that.”

“Good night, Galen.”

“Good night, Myka.”

He carried the linens to the small apartment in the back of the barn and made the bed after putting the towels in a small cabinet in the bathroom. Afterward, he stretched out on his back on the surprisingly comfortable twin-sized bed. His feet hung off the end, but it was heaven to be lying on something other than the hard ground. His wolf itched to get out, but he refused.

Not tonight.

He closed his eyes. It was still fairly early, but he knew once the deep of night kicked in, he’d be wide awake, and decided to grab a couple hours of much-needed sleep now if possible. As his muscles relaxed, his instincts sharpened and stood on alert, waiting to sound the alarm bells if any type of danger was detected. Any noise, any scent that didn’t belong would set off his inner warning.

He pulled in a deep breath. Speaking of scent. Myka’s called to him with every breath he took. She had the main scent that all potential mates carried, but the mated scent was the one that called to him strongest. The mated scent was detectable only by one’s fated mate. When that second scent had hit him earlier, his knees had nearly buckled under him. Knowing that he was the only one privileged to that second scent made it all that much harder to resist claiming her.

He groaned and stretched his arms over his head, then linked his fingers behind his neck. Staying here with Myka without touching her was going to be one hell of a challenge.

Chapter Three

Myka groaned when she rolled out of bed the next morning. It was barely daylight, the gray overcast of the sky making it nearly impossible for what little sun there was to peek through the window. She was up early most days, but she never had been, wasn’t, and never would be a morning person. She glanced at the clock. It was only five forty-five, even earlier than her usual wake-up time of six thirty to seven o’clock. She’d try to doze for another hour if she thought she’d actually get back to sleep, but she’d tried that trick before. The few times she had fallen back asleep, she’d been more tired when she had to get back up such a short time later.

Patrick didn’t usually stir until around eight or eight thirty. Most mornings that allowed her enough time to get the horses fed and watered and breakfast started before he was up. She dragged herself to the shower after getting her underwear, jeans, and T-shirt, hoping the water would help wake her up. Twenty-five minutes later, she was still struggling with sleepiness and started a pot of coffee before slipping on her socks, boots, and jacket and heading to the barn.

She sighed as the thick, undulating clouds began spitting a misty rain. This was not going to be a fun day to unload hay. A couple minutes later, she stood in front of Buddy’s stall. He, along with the rest of the horses, were munching happily on hay.

“I didn’t give them grain because I wasn’t sure how much.”

She spun around to find Galen standing behind her. Her breath whooshed from her lungs at the sight of him. He wore a pair of black jeans that hung low on his hips, a black belt, and the same hiking boots from yesterday. And while the jeans looked delicious on him, it was his bare torso that caught her eye. Though she wouldn’t call it cold out, she thought it a bit chilly to be going without a shirt. He, on the other hand, didn’t appear fazed in the least by the chilly morning.

She licked her lips. He was beautifully sculpted, and she couldn’t help but admire the wide chest on display. His skin was the perfect shade of gold, and dark brown hair dusted his pecs. As her eyes roamed downward, she took in his etched six-pack, and the fine line of hair that started just under his belly button before it dove under the waist of his jeans. She couldn’t help but be a bit envious of that happy trail.

While only a couple seconds had passed, she felt as if she’d been ogling him for ten minutes, and when she looked back up to into his face, her breath didn’t just whoosh from her lungs this time. It vanished. Hazel eyes stared intently at her. That wasn’t what stole her breath, though. The slight and eerie glow they were giving off is what froze her in place. His sharp jawline was covered in dark stubble, and he looked as lethal as any predator she’d ever seen.

But just as quickly as fear slithered into her veins, it disappeared with as much speed as it had entered. Why was she sure that Galen would never hurt her? Was she being a naive fool? For all she knew, he could be lying to her. He could be running from the law. He could be dangerous. She stared back at him, deep into those alluring pools of silver. He was definitely dangerous. But not to her. Not to Patrick.

Fool. You always were too trusting. Don’t let a pretty face cloud your judgment.

One of his dark brows slowly rose as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.

“Should I not have given them hay?”

His voice shook her from her thoughts.

“I’m sorry. I was a little, um, sidetracked. Forgive me.”

Damn. Sidetracked? She wanted to facepalm herself. While she was sure he’d noticed her drooling over him, she didn’t need to go and point it out. It was one of those moments when she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

“Thank you for giving them hay.”

“I watered them as well. If you want to show me how much grain they get, I can take care of that too.”

She began to tremble. His nearness, his voice, even his scent had too much of an effect on her for someone she’d met only hours before.

“Grain is over here.”

He followed her to a row of metal trash bins that she stored the grain in. She popped off the first lid and fished out the empty three-pound coffee can, then picked up the black five-gallon bucket sitting on the floor. She tried hard to ignore the closeness of his big body, the heat emanating from him, and the urge to rub against him and purr.

“I usually fill the bucket with grain. You only have to make three trips that way. Make sure to put the lids back on the cans tightly. It helps to keep the rodents away.”

Once she filled the bucket, he reached for it. His hand brushed hers, and the warmth of his touch poured over her and absorbed into her skin like thick molasses.

She showed him how much grain to give each horse, told him their names, and smiled when he gave each one of them a rub on the neck after pouring the grain in the feeder.

“Do you know how to halter and lead a horse?”

“It’s been a long time, but I’ve done it before.” He nodded.

“All of them are easy to handle. The only one you have to watch out for is Dusty. When you let him loose, stand clear because he likes to turn and kick his heels up a bit when freed. He’s not trying to kick you, it’s just his weird way of thanking you for turning him loose.”

“No problem. I’m sure we will all get along fine. I like animals. Do you have a dog?”

“No. I’ve thought about getting one, but so much has happened the past few months, there hasn’t been time.”

“Maybe I can help find you one while I’m here. If you wouldn’t mind, that is. A dog could provide extra protection.”

Galen reached for the shirt hanging on a nail from one of the support posts. The shirt had been hung so high up, Myka hadn’t noticed it until he reached for it.

“It’s perfectly safe out here. I’ve lived here several years.”

“I didn’t mean to imply it wasn’t. I only meant since you and Patrick are alone out here, it might be a good idea.”

She watched him pull the shirt over his head and tug it down. It fit him snugly, and she could see the outline of his ripped form. He was right about the dog. Maybe she’d have to find time to look for one soon.

“How was your first night?”

“Peaceful. I understand why you like it here,” he answered.

“You were comfortable then?”

“Yes.”

“If you ever need anything, let me know.”

She eyed him again, letting her mind wander freely to all kinds of wicked thoughts of what she’d be willing to give him if he asked. Son of a bitch. She had to cut out the teenage high school crush crap. She wasn’t the type of woman to have flings, and she was sure Galen was only passing through. One day, probably sooner than later, she’d wake up and he’d be gone from her life forever. He was not for her. Besides, she didn’t have time for a relationship.

His gaze rested on her, and she swore she could feel her skin warm under his stare.

“I’m going to go get breakfast going. Should be ready in about twenty minutes if you want to come on over. Tom should be here shortly after. I’m not sure how long the rain will hold off, and unloading hay when it’s dry out is bad enough.”

She turned away from his burning gaze and started for the barn door, feeling the warm sear of his eyes on her the entire walk back to the house.

* * *

It was shocking what only six months on the run could show you about how much the little things in life meant. A soft pillow to rest your head on each night. The smell of clean clothes. Standing in the open, soaking up the sunlight, with no fear of someone hunting you. Not being suspicious of everyone you came into contact with. The smell of good cooking, and a full stomach.

Breakfast had been delicious. Myka was a wonderful cook. Under different circumstances, Galen could easily see himself settling down right here with her and Patrick. Anger suddenly tore through the rare peace he was experiencing. Maybe it was time to stand up to the ones chasing him. He had no doubt it would end in bloodshed and possibly death. He didn’t want to hurt any of his kind, but he was tired of running. His own species was keeping him from his mate.

His skin tingled as he made his way to the barn. The wolf snarled to break through the surface. No! Not now, my friend. Behave, and tonight we will go for a long run. Just as his wolf reluctantly complied and backed off, a semi with a flatbed trailer stacked high with hay came into view on the rock-and-dirt drive.

Yes. Later he would reward his wolf with a run for the hard work he was about to do. He needed to memorize the layout of the place anyway. If he was going to protect Myka and Patrick while he was here, he had to learn every nook and cranny of the farm and the surrounding forest.

Twenty minutes later, Tom was parked as close to the barn as possible, and Galen was throwing bales off the truck inside to the man. He liked Tom. He had an easy smile and seemed genuine, open, and kind when talking about Myka and Patrick. The older man was sharp as a tack, and Galen hadn’t missed the gleam of suspicion in his eyes upon their meeting. Galen liked that about him as well. It showed him that Tom cared about Myka and the boy.

The sky had decided to open up and let loose just as Galen had thrown the second bale inside. He knew it was inevitable. He’d been able to smell the impending rain grow stronger by the minute. He’d always enjoyed the clean, heavy scent of the air before a storm. By the time he reached for the tenth bale, he was soaked clean through to the skin. He didn’t mind in the least, and his naturally warmer body temperature kept him from getting chilled. Steam rose steadily from his hot skin as the cool rain hit him.

He hoped Myka would stay put inside and let him and Tom take care of the hay. Galen was aware that the old man couldn’t keep pace with him, and Galen would ultimately end up not only throwing most of the hay off the trailer, but stacking it in the barn too. He didn’t mind. The work felt good on his muscles. He’d always enjoyed physical labor. Unfortunately, ten minutes later, Myka was up on the trailer beside him.

He grimaced trying to figure out how to coax her inside to help Tom without stirring her sense of responsibility to the level of indignation. He was surprised when she picked up a bale and tossed it neatly into the barn nearly as far as he was tossing the bales himself. He admired her sheer determination and strength, but it was inevitable that she’d tire quickly. Especially in the rain.

“Why don’t you help Tom?” Galen glanced inside the barn, where Patrick was now struggling to help.

“I can do my part.” Her brows drew down.

“I have no doubt. You handle those bales well considering they are as big as you are. I simply thought there was no need for us both to be soaked, and I think Tom and Patrick could use the help more than I.”

He glanced at the two before chucking five bales off into the barn within a matter of seconds, with little effort, as if to prove his point.

“Holy cow!” Patrick giggled. “Are you like a superhero or something?”

“Something like that.” Galen chuckled.

He raised a brow at Myka, who was now staring at him in what he considered awe. It made his ego swell a bit to see his mate looking at him in such a way.

“It’s not right for three of us to be down there and only you out here,” Myka said as if determined not to give in easily.

He tossed another five bales into the barn, and a pile began to form as Tom and Patrick struggled to keep up and get them stacked.

He looked back at her and again raised a brow in question.

Finally, she lifted her hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. You’ve proven your point.” She climbed down off the trailer and went inside to help Patrick and Tom.

Two hours later, the hay was stacked neatly inside the barn. Tom, Patrick, and Myka were plopped on a couple bales sipping on the water Myka had gone to the house for earlier.

“You don’t look fazed in the least by all of the work we just did, Galen,” Tom said before taking a swig of his water.

“I like to keep in shape,” he answered.

“Yeah, but six hundred bales, and you look as if you just took a casual stroll around the barn,” Tom grunted. “I miss the days of being young.”

“It usually takes us most of the day to get the hay put up,” Myka said.

Galen thought she looked beautiful with her dark hair mussed and exertion pinkening her golden skin. She’d probably look about the same after he made love to her. He closed his eyes for a moment to shake the image from his mind. The mere thought of touching her was enough to make his cock come alive and the wolf ready to leap.

He cleared his throat.”Anything else on the agenda for today?”

“The rest of the garden needs harvested, but it can wait until tomorrow, after the rain stops. The day after is Patrick’s play day in town. I’ll take the extra produce with me and drop it off at the grocer. Mr. Lee only buys local produce for his store.”

“That’s because it’s the best.” Tom winked at Myka before draining the rest of the water from his bottle.

“I noticed some areas on the inside of the barn that could use some repair. I might work on that this afternoon,” Galen said.

“Myka, thank you again for buying your hay from me, but I’m going to head home. This old man is tired. And thank you, Galen, for making this much easier than usual on all of us.”

Galen nodded and watched as Myka gave Tom a quick hug before he ruffled Patrick’s hair and made his way out of the barn. Within moments, the sound of the diesel engine roaring to life could be heard, but started to fade as Tom drove away slowly.

“You feeling okay, Patrick?” Myka bent down in front of him.

“Yeah. Just tired.”

“Why don’t you go in and take a hot shower or bath and get some dry clothes on? You can spend the rest of the afternoon doing whatever you like. Thank you for helping. We couldn’t have done it without you.”

She kissed him on the forehead.

“No, we couldn’t have. You were a big help,” Galen agreed.

Patrick smiled up at him as if he’d just had the best compliment of his life. “Thanks, Galen. You too, Myka.” He hugged her.

She laughed when he sprinted out into the rain for the house.

She stood and faced Galen. Her brows drew down, probably in response to his frown. “Something wrong?”

“I was just wondering why Patrick called you Myka instead of Mom.”

“Oh.” It was her turn to frown now.

“I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“No. No. It’s a completely legit question. Patrick is not my son. He’s my nephew.”

While he hadn’t cared when he thought Patrick was hers, an extreme wave of relief washed over him. Patrick was a wonderful boy, and he felt no different about him knowing that he wasn’t Myka’s son, but he couldn’t deny his happiness at Myka not having a child with another man.

“He’s your nephew?”

She sighed, shook her head, and plopped back on a hay bale.

“I didn’t mean to pry.” He sat down beside her.

“It’s okay. It’s sort of a touchy subject still. My brother was killed in a freak accident six months ago at work. I suddenly found myself a mother, and Patrick suddenly found himself fatherless. It wasn’t easy for either one of us, but I never wanted anything else than to give him the home and love he deserves from the start. It’s been tough. I don’t think I’m cut out for mom material.”

“Hey,” he said softly before placing an arm around her back. “You are great with Patrick, and I can tell he loves you. I thought you were his mother from the start.”

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him.

“If you don’t want to answer, that is fine, but what happened to his mother?”

“She abandoned him when he was barely a year old. My brother was devastated, and Patrick had to grow up without a mother. Although Travis was a great dad. He adored Patrick, gave him everything he could. It was tough for him, though.”

“I can only imagine. I don’t know how anyone could abandon a child.”

“It breaks my heart. Travis would never talk about it with Patrick. I know at some point in time he will start asking about his mother. I don’t know what to tell him.”

“You will figure it out. You are a much better mother than you give yourself credit for.”

She looked up at him again. “Flatterer.”

“I only call it how I see it. You are pretty amazing.”

“Oh.”

The way her lips curved in that cute little o made need rush his veins. He wanted to devour her, drag her to the hay-strewn floor, rip all of their clothes off, lick every inch of her body, and claim her like his blood sang for him to do.

Do it. Do it. Son of a bitch. He couldn’t. It wasn’t right. After hearing what she’d been struggling with the past six months, he was sure she didn’t need a complication like him. A complication that would most likely bring only heartbreak, and possibly trouble, right to her doorstep.

He sighed and stood.”I’m going to get busy cleaning up in here,” he muttered, hoping she’d go back to the house before he let his needs get the best of him.

Chapter Four

Myka thought Galen was going to kiss her when he’d abruptly stood and grabbed a rake. Disappointment seared her insides even though she knew it was for the better. She didn’t need to get tangled up with him, but she couldn’t deny that she longed to know the feel of his mouth on her own. He had the most perfect full lips, lips that she had no doubt would be possessive, warm . . . hot, seductive. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and willed the image from her mind.

“Did I do something wrong, Galen? You suddenly seem upset.”

“No. I should be working instead of prying into your business.”

She stood and went to him. When he continued raking stray hay from the floor, she laid her hand on his forearm. His muscles bunched beneath her fingers before he stilled and slowly turned to face her.

“I understand that you are probably only passing through, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends while you are here. We are human beings, after all. Kindness and communication is normal behavior.”

He snorted. “Sorry. I have a very different outlook on human behavior. And while I can’t deny I have witnessed acts of love and kindness in my life, it is no longer the norm. Most people are out to get whatever they can for themselves without care for others.”

“Do you really believe that?” She frowned.

Good God. What had happened to him to make him have such a negative outlook? Had he been hurt by someone? If so, why? He seemed like a good man. Yeah. But you don’t really know him, do you?

“Yes. Although I have to admit that I have witnessed more kindness, caring, and selflessness in the short time I’ve spent here at your place than I’ve seen in a long time.”

A shiver slid down her spine as his hazel eyes shimmered down at her.

“I’m sorry that’s the case, but I’m happy you are seeing it now. At least you know there are people in the world who still care.”

She gave his forearm a gentle squeeze. She had the urge to comfort him, but he was no child. He was a grown man. Yet wasn’t that the kindness she’d spoken to him about only seconds ago? One human being reaching out to another just because? Without stopping to think it through, she stepped closer and hugged him.

His shirt was still damp from the rain, but he was surprisingly warm. She felt chilled to the bone, and she’d been in the inclement weather barely any time at all. He’d been in the rain for over two hours and was warm as an electric blanket. She snuggled against him, seeking the warmth of his body, and sighed when that warmth began seeping through their clothes and into her skin.

He stiffened underneath her, and a different warmth flooded her. Embarrassment. She quickly took a step away from him.

“I’m sorry. I was only trying to comfort you, but when I felt how warm you were, I couldn’t help myself.” She barely got the words past the lump in her throat.

Damn but he was sexy. And those eyes. If she didn’t know better, she’d swear they were glowing again. Must be the color of them mixed with the reflection of the light. She cleared her throat.

“You should get out of those wet clothes before you get chilled. I’d feel horrible if you got sick because of me. Speaking of which, I forgot to thank you. I don’t know how you unloaded all of that hay so fast, but I’m glad you were here.” She took another step back.

Before she could turn to leave, he reached for her, and she found herself plastered against the delicious warmth of his broad chest once again.

“I won’t get sick, and I was happy to help. Besides, that is what you are paying me to do.” He bent down and placed his lips close to her ear. “Anytime you want me out of my clothes, all you have to do is say the word.”

She gasped, but when she turned her head toward him to protest, his lips captured hers. She was right. His full lips were made for kissing. The kiss was little more than a fleeting brush of mouths, but that simple touch made her want to rub against him and purr.

“Forgive me,” he said.

“I think I can manage to forgive you for a simple kiss.”

A simple kiss? There had been nothing simple about his kiss. She had to fight the temptation to arch up and capture those delicious lips with hers again. She wanted to taste him on her tongue, breathe him into her lungs, where she could keep him and take him out on lonely winter nights.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness for that.” His hot breath fanned over her cheek.

“I don’t understand.” What did he need to be forgiven for?

He dipped his head closer, their lips a scant inch apart. She couldn’t help but lean into his touch when he cupped her cheek, then slid his hand around to palm her nape.

“Forgive me for this.”

His lips took hers once again, but this was no gentle brushing of mouths. She opened to him when his tongue slid along her bottom lip, and he devoured her. The chill in her body was replaced by shivers of red-hot desire, shivers that intensified with each stroke of his tongue. Galen touching her, kissing her, felt right, felt familiar. But she shouldn’t be kissing him. She couldn’t get mixed up with a man who would be gone from life before she blinked. She also had to think if Patrick.

She pushed at his chest, and he lifted his head. They were both breathing hard, and the look on his face excited her a hell of a lot and maybe intimidated her a tiny bit. There was something in his eyes that hinted at danger. He was quiet, intense, and moved too quietly, too light-footed for a man of his size. Something was different about him. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“I can’t do this, Galen.”

“You can’t blame me for trying.”

“I’m not the type of woman who sleeps around, and there’s Patrick to consider. Whatever this is between us can’t happen. We both know nothing long term can come of it.”

“For the record, I’m not the kind of man who sleeps around either.”

She smiled.

“What?”

“I’m not judging you, but a man who looks like you is usually used to getting what he wants when he wants it.”

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or an insult.” He frowned.

“You have to know that you are gorgeous. I simply meant that I’m sure you don’t find it difficult to attract women wherever you go.”

“Attracting them and sleeping with them are two different things. You are beautiful. I’m certain you have no trouble attracting men, yet you told me you don’t sleep around. Why should it be any different for me?”

Damn it. She’d stuck her big foot in her mouth. “I didn’t mean to insult you. It’s just that it seems different for men where sex is concerned.”

“Do tell?” he snorted.

“Forget I said anything. Okay?” She put her hands up in surrender.

“I didn’t take offense to your words, but I’m intrigued. Please tell me what you meant by sex is different where men are concerned.”

She sighed. “There are double standards for men and women where sex is involved. In general, it seems to be acceptable, maybe even commendable, when a man sleeps around. On the other hand, if a woman sleeps with different men, she’s usually considered a slut, whore, easy, a tramp, or maybe a skank. I honestly didn’t mean to accuse you of sleeping with a lot of women. I got caught up in the general consensus and prejudged. You are the kind of man most women would be interested in. I let that persuade me into making assumptions that I have no facts about.”

“You are correct. I think that does seem to be the general consensus. But it is not what I believe. If I did, as beautiful as you are, I’d have to assume that you were the biggest whore on the planet, and believe me when I say that that thought had never, has never, and will never cross my mind.”

“I feel like such a horse’s ass right now,” she murmured.

“I didn’t mean to cause you any distress. I really only wanted to hear your thoughts.”

“I don’t normally judge others by their looks or possessions or money. I don’t know why I did so with you.”

“To be fair, I don’t think you judged me, Myka. I think you are tired and cold and maybe still a bit off kilter over our kiss.”

“That’s definitely a possibility.” She laughed.

“Why don’t you go get warmed up?” He took a step closer. “Or I can warm you up some more.”

“As tempting as that is, I can’t.”

“The offer will always be there. That and the getting-me-out-of-my-clothes deal.”

She knew he was teasing her, yet she was also certain that he meant exactly what he said. She had to get out of the barn and away from him for a while before she threw all caution to the wind and did something she’d regret. What? Like sleep with a totally hot man who just said he doesn’t sleep around? Yeah. That would be horrible, wouldn’t it?

He stepped even closer, crowding her personal space, and her body temperature shot up several degrees. He bent toward her, and she thought he might kiss her again, but his lips stopped a scant inch before touching her mouth.

“Are you among most women?”

She frowned for a moment, not understanding what he was asking. Then it hit her. She’d told him he was a man most women would be interested in.

“Um, I—um . . .”

He chuckled, caressed her cheek lightly with his thumb, then retreated.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said before getting back to cleaning the scattered hay from the floor.

“I’ll leave some sandwiches in the fridge for you. Whenever you get hungry, feel free to come to the house and get them. I’ll have a hot dinner ready tonight. I think we could all use it. I’m probably going to hang out with Patrick the rest of the afternoon since it doesn’t appear the rain is going to let up anytime soon. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thank you.”

* * *

He couldn’t get the taste of her off his tongue. Nor did he wish to. No matter how many seconds, hours, years that passed from this day on, he’d remember her scent, her unique flavor. He’d never desired anyone, anything as fervently in his years of existence. That was saying a lot since he was older than fucking dirt. When she’d been pressed up against him, and her tongue had been dancing with his, he’d nearly lost his mind.

Even now his wolf howled for release, whined, and plead for its mate. He took a deep breath and turned his focus to the work needing done in the barn for the rest of the day. He hoped it was enough of a distraction to keep his mind off of Myka and what he wanted to do to her. It worked for the most part. The physical labor sidelined his lust, but he found himself thinking about all of the other things that made Myka a desirable woman.

The way she blushed. Her dedication to Patrick. Her sheer will and determination to be a good mother and provider. The way she laughed—a rich, genuine sound that warmed his soul. Her honesty and frankness. The way her blue-violet eyes seared his soul each time they rested upon him.

A low growl emanated from his chest. This was not going to happen. The situation was impossible. Every part of him wanted to stay, wanted to fight for what was his, even though it would be selfish of him to do so. His presence here invited danger to her doorstep. How would he cope if something happened to her or Patrick because of him? The answer was simple. He would go insane with guilt. But he didn’t want to leave. Not only for his own selfish reasons, but because she needed his help. Because Patrick needed him. Because whether she realized it or not, she needed him.

“It’s better that she is lacking help than hurt or dead.” He chastised himself as he hammered a nail into the last replacement board on the stall.

He stood and patted the gelding who’d been sniffing at him on the head.

“Sorry for all the noise, Buddy.” He smiled when the horse snorted, and reached out to rub him on the neck. “I bet you and Patrick get along wonderfully.”

He moved on to Chloe, Myka’s mare, next. She was bigger, but lean and muscular. He scratched her shoulder, and Chloe’s eyes half closed as if in bliss from the attention.

“A beautiful girl for a beautiful girl,” he murmured.

Although Myka was far from a girl. She was all warm woman and curves. He gave Sally, Pete, Dusty, and Lady quick rubs as well before putting the tools up and heading for his room in the back of the barn. The rain still fell in a steady sheet as it had been since morning. The soothing quality of rain had always called to him.

He stripped off his clothes and started the shower. After stepping under the warm spray, he rested his head against the cool tiles covering the walls. Why did he have to find the most wonderful woman in the world now? Why had fate put him on a dangerous path that could ultimately affect his mate? He’d lived hundreds of years without so much as a glimpse of a mate, and now that his life was fucked up, there she was.

Because life is great at knowing the exact moment when to fuck you, the exact moment it will have the most impact on you.

He had to leave. Tonight. If he didn’t leave tonight, he doubted his ability to do so later. He squeezed his eyes shut and thought of Myka. Those gorgeous eyes tinged with a hint of violet. The inky black hair that he longed to bury his face in, yearned to feel slide over his naked flesh as he took her. His cock swelled, and he groaned. Images of her tiny body packed with surprisingly curvy hips tauntingly flitted through his brain. And her tempting, perky breasts. He groaned. He was sure they would fit perfectly in his hands.

He thought of how he’d dip his head and swirl his tongue around her nipples, laving and gently nipping them into stiffened, rosy peaks. How she’d moan, arch her back, give him access to what he sought. She would be a generous lover, a lover who would give as much as she took. He wanted to eat her alive, nibble, lick, and suck every naked inch of her golden skin.

He reached down and encircled his engorged cock, amazed that there was any blood left in his brain, and stroked it from base to tip as he imagined sliding between Myka’s thighs and into the creamy heat that awaited him. She would be tight, and he’d stretch her to the point of pain, but in the end, they’d come together in unblemished unison.

He widened his feet and stroked his shaft faster. He laid his other palm flat against the wall and leaned against it. She’d be silky soft, and hot. Her muscles would clench around his cock in pulses. She’d tighten around him until he was nearly strangled. She’d cry out his name as she thrashed under him, and as he filled her again and again, he’d come inside her as she screamed out his name, clawed at his back, and came with him.

He grunted as he stroked up on his cock, and his release shot from the head in spurts of warm liquid that drenched his fist. He leaned his forehead against the cool tile as he panted. Walking away from her was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever have to do.

Chapter Five

“Aren’t you hungry, Patrick?” Myka watched him push his food around on the plate.

“Not really. I’m tired.”

“It has been a long, dreary day. Although after our lazy afternoon together, I figured you’d be raring to go this evening.”

She smiled at Galen, who sat across from her at the table. He, unlike Patrick, had been enthusiastic about eating, and was currently working his way through a second helping. She didn’t know how he could eat so much and look as good as he did. Although to be fair, he had skipped lunch this afternoon. When she’d gone to see if he’d be joining them for dinner, he was standing at the doors of the barn, peering into the still-spattering rain. He was dressed in dark jeans that hugged him in all the right places, showing off every hard edge of his fabulous rear and long, straight legs. The dark blue T-shirt was no less flattering. It splayed over his wide chest and shoulders, and formed around his six-pack like a second skin.

His hair had been damp, and at that very moment, she’d wished that she was one of those types of girls who had one-night flings. She had no doubt he’d be pure heat between the sheets. But she wasn’t, and never would be, that type. She could never have sex with someone she barely knew, then walk away as easily as if walking away from a good movie she would remember fondly at times, but carry no emotional ties to.

“It wasn’t completely a lazy afternoon. You made me let you cut my hair,” Patrick said.

“It needed cut, Patrick. It was getting long.”

“Galen’s hair is long,” he scoffed.

Myka frowned.

“You’re right,” Galen said. “I’ve been traveling and haven’t had time to get it cut, but I’d be happy to let Myka cut it for me.” He looked at her. “If you’re up for it?”

“I could do that, if you’re sure. I’m not a professional,” she replied.

“If you mess it up, it’ll grow back.” Galen shrugged.

“Can I be excused?” Patrick asked, apparently bored with all the haircut talk.

“I don’t know. Can you?” She shrugged.

“May I be excused?” Patrick rolled his eyes.

“Yes. You may.” She smiled. “Why don’t you go and read? I don’t think you’ve had a chance to read your superhero series for a while, have you?”

Myka knew he’d look at the pictures more than anything since he couldn’t make out words that were more than four letters long. She’d worked with him on his reading to give him a head start for when he started school--and because she thought reading was important--but she wasn’t a teacher. He was a quick learner, but he was still only five.

“That sounds like a good idea.” Patrick stood and turned to leave the room. “See ya, Galen.”

“Later,” Galen answered.

“I hope he’s not getting a cold,” Myka muttered as she ate a forkful of green beans.

“I’m sure he’ll be good as new in the morning.” He stood and took his now-empty plate to the sink.

“You’re probably right.”

“I’ll do the dishes. Thank you for dinner. It was delicious as usual.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to do the dishes.”

She stood and scraped what was left on her and Patrick’s plates into the trash, and went to dry the dishes Galen had already started to wash.

She needed to make it clear to Galen about what happened in the barn earlier—or rather, what wouldn’t be happening again. She didn’t quite know how to bring the subject up. Maybe it would be better to simply ignore it. Maybe it would go away. Yeah. Right. It won’t ever go away. Even when he does.

“Um.” She cleared her throat. “We need to talk.”

He sighed after placing the last dish in the strainer and pulled the plug to let the water drain from the sink. Turning, he leaned his hip against the counter, crossed his arms over his chest, and stared down at her.

“Do you want me to leave because of what happened in the barn earlier?”

“What? Oh! No.”

“That is what you wanted to talk about, though, right?”

“How do you do that?”

“What?”

“Know what I’m thinking before I say it?”

“I’m perceptive that way.” He grunted, shoved his fingers through his hair, and walked to the back door to peer out the window. “What happened in the barn happened.” He turned to face her. “I’m not sorry it did. You are beautiful, and I won’t deny I’m deeply attracted to you.”

Heat rushed through her veins and right to her cheeks. “It can’t happen again. I don’t sleep around.”

“We already had that discussion. I don’t sleep around either. That isn’t what this is about.”

“Then what exactly is it about? Because we both know this thing, whatever it is between us, won’t end up going anywhere.”

He took three steps toward her, and she found herself pushed against the counter, surrounded by a big, hard, angry-looking Galen.

“But what if I want it to?” His hazel eyes held that strange shimmer again. His face was dark, and his lips were drawn in a straight line.

He was intimidating as hell. The top of her head barely came to his pecs, but she didn’t feel threatened. For some unknown reason, she was sure that if she protested, he’d back off in an instant. Now, however, she intended to enjoy the heat that surrounded her.

“You planning on settling down here now?”

Her words made him cringe. “If I could settle down, here with you would be my first choice.” He leaned closer.

“Why can’t you?” Her heartbeat sped up, and his heat bled into every pore of her skin.

“It’s complicated,” he breathed.

“Things are only as complicated as you make them. ‘It’s complicated’ is only an excuse that people who don’t want to deal with the complication use.”

“Maybe. But sometimes it really is complicated.” He reached out and stroked his thumb softly down her cheek.

“Uh-huh. I’ve been through complicated. Complicated can be dealt with.”

“If it was only that simple.” He sighed. “If it wasn’t complicated, what would you say then?”

Her lungs nearly stopped working when he bent closer. “I can’t deny that I’m attracted to you. Any woman in her right mind would be. But that’s not what I’m looking for.”

“What are you looking for?” His breath fanned over her cheek as he continued to softly stroke her face with his thumb.

“I’m not looking at all. But if I was, I would be looking for a man who would take care of me and Patrick. Who would always contribute, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. Who would consider us the most important things in his life. A man who was honest and hardworking. A man I could always count on. A man that would love me as much as I would him. A man who would be faithful and as loyal as I would be to him. A man who would always be by my side. A man I could share my life with. A man who would share his life with me.”

“Why do the things that matter most, the things that are easiest to give to those you love, always the first things neglected? If more people shared your view on relationships, there wouldn’t be so much heartbreak. I want the same in a woman. But know this, Myka. If circumstances were different for me, I’d take you up on the challenge. I’d be more than willing to fill the bill to your order. I’d demand nothing less in return. If I gave myself to you, you can bet you’d be stuck with me for life.”

His words sent slivers of hope through her, but those slivers were quickly doused with the reality of here and now. Galen had made it clear once again that he was passing through. Why did he have to come into her life if there was no chance of them being together? He’d proven to be hardworking. He cared about her and Patrick, or he wouldn’t have insisted on them staying out of the rain when they’d unloaded the hay. He was good with the animals. He had been up front and honest with her. Those were some serious points in his favor.

“I wish things were different,” she whispered.

He closed the small gap between them and took her lips in a slow kiss that scorched her blood. But he broke the kiss too soon for her liking. Her breaths came in short, excited pants, and heat pooled between her thighs as he stared down at her with eyes that seemed to glow brighter than before.

He sniffed at her—which reminded her of a wild animal learning the scent of its prey—then groaned.

“I wish things were different as well, angel. Now are you going to cut my hair?”

“Yes. I can do that. How do you normally wear it?” she asked.

“Short, with a little length on the top.”

She nodded. “I’ll get my clippers. Have a seat on one of the chairs.”

She left the room and came back a few minutes later carrying a towel, clippers, and some other things she needed. After plugging in the clippers, she draped the towel over his shoulders. “To keep the hair off your shirt.”

He stood, and removed his T-shirt, and she barely contained a gasp. Holy hell, the man was ridiculously perfect. He sat back down and pulled the towel over his shoulders.

“I’d rather avoid getting hair on it altogether if that’s okay with you.”

“S-Sure.” She fastened the edges together with a hair clip and went to work.

His unsettling gaze watched every move she made, and her hands slightly shook, making it hard to hold the clippers steady. She placed a short attachment on the end and cut everything below the crown of his head. His hair was thick and soft, and she ran her fingers through it more than necessary. Not to mention he smelled wonderful.

The way her body was responding to him told her that maybe being this close to him hadn’t been the best idea. She shut off the clippers, and when she reached for a longer attachment for the top of his hair, she dropped it. As she bent and scooped it up with trembling hands, long fingers encircled her wrist.

He lifted her hand until it was in front of his face. “I feel it too, Myka,” he said huskily.

She pulled away from him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She knew exactly what he was talking about.

He grimaced. Thankfully, he didn’t say another word as she finished up, because had he done so, she might have ended up jumping him right in the middle of the kitchen with Patrick in the other room. She folded the towel in half to contain the hair and carefully removed it from his shoulders. When he stood, he was only scant inches from her. She was eye level with a seriously ripped and broad chest.

She barely refrained from reaching for him, aching to see if he was as hard as he looked. But suddenly, he snatched his T-shirt from the table and backed away from her. She barely contained the urge to call him back.

“Thank you for the haircut. Good night.”

“Night.”

She watched his retreat out the door. Holy moly. How was she going to keep her hands off him? He was temptation. Hell, he was more than temptation. He was temptation dipped in chocolate. She’d just told him no more than five minutes ago that what happened in the barn would not happen again. She squared her shoulders. Okay, girl. The facts are simple. At some point Galen will leave, but right now, you need the help. That meant she’d keep her lips to herself for Patrick’s sake.

* * *

Galen sprinted through the woods after shedding his clothes. The chilly breeze cooled his hot skin and cleared his mind. His wolf leaped to the surface, and being an ancient, the welcomed change took place in a heartbeat. Where feet once were, four paws lightly smacked the wet ground as he ran.

He’d barely been able to keep his hands off Myka when she’d cut his hair. Whether she denied it or not, her trembling hands had been proof enough—minus the fact that he could scent her tantalizing excitement—that she was as affected by him as he was by her. If Patrick hadn’t been in the house, he had no doubt things would have turned out differently.

He stopped and sniffed the air. Nothing he could detect seemed amiss. Not a hint of another lycan on the air. He rubbed against a tree before going three trees over and doing the same. Throughout the night, he’d mark the whole perimeter this way to warn other animals and lycans away from the territory surrounding Myka’s.

Scenting the place also had its downside. It put up a huge red flag for any of those who were chasing him. That didn’t bother him so much since he’d be leaving before morning. If any of the other lycans who’d been hunting him did happen along, they’d simply assess the situation and realize he was no longer here. He hoped his scent would either conceal Myka’s presence from any rogue who might happen along or scare them off.

The thought of leaving her alone was crippling. His stomach churned, and his instincts screamed at him to stay. He vowed right then and there that he would take care of the current mess he was in and find his way back to her. They would be together no matter what he had to do to achieve it. She was his other half. They weren’t meant to be apart. He’d be damned if he let anyone take her from him now.

As the rain cleared, the moon rose higher and lit the sky. It was a beautiful sight in its almost-full phase. The canopy of the trees let enough light shine through to illuminate the leaf-covered ground with a pale glow. A few hours later, he’d finished marking the perimeter, and started back toward the farmhouse. Although it would make his leaving much more difficult, he had to see Myka one last time.

Once back at the barn, he shifted and dressed. After throwing his few belongings into his duffel, he started for the house. He’d planned a quick peek in the window, and then would be on his way, but fate, again, had other plans for him. Myka was pacing in the kitchen with a telephone to her ear. After speaking into the receiver, she hung up and sobbed. His gut twisted. Why was she upset? His protective instincts were overwhelming, and he quickly knocked on the door. When she answered, he could see the tears glistening in her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Patrick is sick. I can’t get his fever down, and Doc Wheeler isn’t answering. I left him a message, but I don’t know if he’ll even get it.” She took in a stuttering breath. “I’ve given him acetaminophen, but it’s not helping.”

“Can we take him into town and find the doc?”

“I don’t want to risk it. If Doc is on call somewhere else, I’ll have had Patrick out in the cold air for nothing. The only option left is to take him to the hospital, but it’s over an hour away.”

“Can I see him?”

Myka nodded.

Galen’s heart sank when he saw the listless boy lying in bed. He was drenched in sweat and shivering. His cheeks were dark pink and his face flushed.

“Has this ever happened before?”

“Not since he’s come to live with me, but Travis used to talk about Patrick getting horrible fevers.”

Galen laid his palm across Patrick’s forehead. Damn. The kid was burning up. He’d been around long enough to have witnessed fevers like this taking down grown men. It was urgent that they get Patrick’s temperature down as soon as possible.

“Myka.” When she didn’t answer, he said it louder. “Myka!”

She jumped. “What?”

“Get him undressed. We need to get him in a tepid bath. Okay?”

She nodded.

“I’ll be right back.”

She still hadn’t moved when he went to leave, and he gently took her by the shoulders.

“Hey,” he said softly.

She looked up at him, and his chest hurt when her pain-filled eyes centered on him. She was pale, and most likely scared out of her mind.

“It’ll be all right. We’ll get Patrick’s fever down. Get him undressed. I’ll be back in a minute.”

He made sure she was following his instructions before making his way back to the kitchen, where he started searching through the cabinets. After being connected with nature for most of his life, he’d picked up a few tricks. But when he’d gotten to the last cabinet without finding anything useful, his hope began to die. Finally, on the back of the last shelf, he found a bottle of peppermint oil.

He grabbed the bottle and started back down the hall. Myka had finished undressing Patrick, but the boy still seemed out of it. Myka picked him up, and Galen followed her to the bathroom, where he filled the bath and helped her set him inside. Patrick protested the cool water, but they managed to get him immersed up to his neck.

“Let him soak in it for five minutes. Then we’ll get him back to bed.”

“He has to be okay,” she whispered.

“It’s a fever. He’s a healthy kid. He’ll be all right. We’ll get through this, okay?”

She nodded, but her worried expression told him she didn’t really believe him.

Five minutes later, they had Patrick out of the tub and wrapped in a towel. Galen offered to carry him back to his room, but Myka refused. He wasn’t surprised. She’d expressed doubts about her mothering abilities, but she was a wonderful mother as far as he was concerned.

“Leave him nude, and pull the covers up to his waist.”

After she did as he’d instructed, he knelt beside the bed and pulled the bottle of peppermint oil from his jeans pocket.

“Is he due for another dose of acetaminophen yet?”

“Close.”

Galen nodded. He held up the bottle so she could see.

“This is peppermint oil. I found it in your cabinet. It helps to reduce fevers. I’m going to rub some on his chest.”

By the time he finished, Patrick had stirred. He felt a bit cooler—probably from the bath—but Galen knew it wouldn’t last long without help from the peppermint.

“Can you go make him a strong cup of tea while I sit with him?” Galen asked.

She nodded and left. Within a couple minutes, she was back with the tea and another dose of medicine.

Galen was sitting on the bed beside Patrick and took the cup from Myka. He put a few drops of the peppermint in the tea, then leaned toward Patrick.

“Patrick.”

Galen waited until he stared up at him through fever-glazed eyes.

“You need to chew these pills and drink as much of this tea as you can. It will make you feel better. Do you think you can do that for me?”

Patrick nodded weakly, and Myka helped him sit up by propping some pillows behind him. Galen felt much better ten minutes later, when Patrick had drunk three-quarters of the tea and taken the pills. He helped him get comfortable, then pulled the covers up to his chin before taking the near-empty cup to the kitchen. Afterward, he stopped by the bathroom to get a cold rag and returned to Patrick’s room, where he placed the rag across his forehead.

“Thank you,” Myka said. She was still sitting beside Patrick, his head now resting on her shoulder.

“Don’t thank me yet. It’ll be a couple hours before we know for sure if his fever is going to stay down.”

“How did you know about the peppermint?”

“I’ve always liked and spent a lot of time in nature. You pick up things.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad I had some.”

“Me too. I had nearly run out of hope of finding anything when I came across it.”

Patrick’s skin didn’t appear quite as pale, and his cheeks weren’t as red as they had been earlier. He slept without much fussing, which was a good sign to Galen. Myka shifted and let Patrick rest against the pillows before tucking the covers loosely around him. Just as she got off the bed, the phone began to ring in the other room.

“I’ll stay with him,” Galen said when she looked at Patrick worriedly.

She nodded and left the room.

Galen reached out and touched Patrick. He was even cooler now than when he’d applied the peppermint to his chest. They weren’t out of the woods quite yet, but he was confident that the fever would stay down.

“Yes. We already did that, Doc.” Myka spoke into the phone as she came back into Patrick’s room.

She had a thermometer in the other hand, pressed a button on it, and stuck it into Patrick’s ear. A few seconds later, it beeped.

“It’s down to one hundred point four. Yes. Yes. Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.” She hung up the phone.

“Good news?” Galen asked.

“Doc says as long as his fever doesn’t go back up to bring him in tomorrow. He said to continue with the acetaminophen and peppermint. He was impressed with the peppermint, by the way. He was sure that it was what finally brought down the fever. When I took it earlier, it was almost one hundred and four.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

She swayed before she sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Hey. You are exhausted. You should get some sleep.”

“I can’t. I have to watch him.”

“I’ll watch him.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” she protested.

“You aren’t asking. I’m offering. Besides, he’s doing better, and unless his fever goes back up—which I don’t believe it will—he’ll probably sleep for a few hours.”

“I could use a nice hot bath and a couple hours of sleep.” She yawned.

“You sit here, and I’ll run you a bath.”

She had to be extremely exhausted to so readily accept his help. It wasn’t that he didn’t think she trusted him, but the motherly instincts in her demanded that she tend to Patrick personally. He was honored that she was comfortable enough with him to let him stay with Patrick while she slept. He went to the bathroom and ran a steamy bath for her to soak in, then went back to Patrick’s room.

“The bath is ready for you.”

She looked up at him. The relief in her eyes washed through him like gentle waves. When she burrowed tightly against him, then rested her head against his chest, he wrapped his arms around her and held her.

“He’s even cooler now. I can never thank you enough for your help, Galen. I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

He reached down and tipped her chin up with one finger. “You would have been fine. You would have gotten Patrick’s fever down with the medicine. It might have taken a bit longer, but your determination would have prevailed. I have no doubt. You are a great mother, Myka.”

“Aunt, really.”

“No.” Galen shook his head. “That boy needs a mother, and you are it.”

“Yeah. I know. Each passing day I see him more as my son than my nephew, but I don’t want to push him. He’s had it hard.”

“He loves you, Myka. There is no doubt about that. He trusts you.”

“I love him too.”

“It’s obvious.” He bent and scooped her up into his arms.

The fact that she didn’t protest proved how tired she was. After he carried her to the bathroom, he set her by the tub.

“Be quick, or you’ll fall asleep in there.”

“Okay.”

When he turned to leave, she reached for his arm and tugged him back to her. She stood on tiptoe and pulled at his shoulders until he bent down far enough for her to kiss him softly on the lips. Her touch turned his blood into a boiling inferno of need.

“Thank you. Thank you so much,” she whispered. “I’m so happy you are here.”

He nodded, then backed out of the bathroom and shut the door before he became a complete asshole and took advantage of her in her vulnerable and exhausted state.

He returned to Patrick’s room and lightly laid his palm across his forehead. The fever was nearly gone now. He smiled and went to the window on the far side of the room. Dawn would break soon.

“Looks like I’m not leaving so soon after all,” he muttered to himself. There was no way he could leave Myka until he was sure everything was okay. After that, he must be on his merry way.

He snorted. He’d be on his way, but there wouldn’t be anything merry about it. He went back to the chair beside the bed and sat down, getting as comfortable as possible. He let his head rest on the back of the chair and closed his eyes.

Chapter Six

“Galen? Is that you?”

Myka stood at the barn door in a sheer black nightie that highlighted the flawlessness of her golden skin and shiny hair. His body ached to possess hers. He ached to possess her. But it wouldn’t be fair. He was aware that this particular dream—one shared between fated mates—was more than just a dream. But she wasn’t. He couldn’t take advantage of her even if he wanted to. Badly.

“Yes.” He stepped from the shadows.

She frowned, which made the skin above her nose crinkle. He found it adorable and sexy.

“How did I get here?” She looked down at herself. “And what am I wearing?”

“It’s a dream.” He took two steps closer. “You’re projecting things from your subconscious. I guess that means you have a secret thing for black lingerie.” He smiled. “Which is good because you look beautiful.”

“This is a dream? But it seems so real.”

He stepped closer and held his hand out to her. She only hesitated for a moment before taking it, and he led her to the loft. After helping her up the ladder, he pointed to a place where he’d arranged soft hay in front of the double wooden door that stood open to the night sky. The moon was full and casting a soft glow over the darkness.

“Would you like to sit with me for a while?” he asked.

“That would be nice.” She followed him.

After sitting down and leaning back against a stack of bales, he patted the spot between his jean-clad legs. She hesitated again and blushed.

“I won’t bite,” he said.

She sat down and rested her back against his chest. He put his arms around her and placed his lips close to the soft skin by her ear.

“Unless you want me to,” he whispered.

She placed a tiny hand on his thigh and squeezed. “Galen, you do things to me, make me feel things that I don’t quite understand.”

“I think you understand them perfectly,” he breathed against her lobe.

“It’s too fast. How can I want you this much simply because of the way you look at me?”

“Because it was meant to be. You do the same to me.”

“But you are going to leave me.”

“I don’t want to. I will do my best to come back to you. To Patrick.”

She half turned so she could look up at him. “You are telling the truth, aren’t you?”

“I would never lie to you.”

“Then I want to enjoy the time we have together.”

“I want that more than anything, angel.”

“Will you kiss me again?”

“You never have to ask. I’m always here for anything you want. Talking. Kissing.” He nipped her ear gently. “Making love.”

He cupped her nape and pulled her to his mouth, where he captured her lips in a possessive but gentle kiss. When she sighed, he slipped his tongue between her lips, and she opened for him immediately. He groaned when her sweet taste hit him. She was everything he’d never thought to have. Genuine, loving, beautiful, fierce, determined, loyal and . . . his.

The thought of leaving her sent pain ripping through his chest like stray shrapnel from a bomb. Every second he was away from her he would be reminded of her scent, of what he was missing, of the mate he could not claim because of some idiot rogue who’d told lies about him.

Without breaking the kiss, she turned to face him and sat on her knees between his thighs. She looped her arms around his neck and linked her fingers together, holding him tight as he unashamedly assaulted her with his kiss. The way she arched into him told him she was enjoying it as much as he was. He ran his palms down her sides, over the flare of her hips, and around to cup one cheek of her firm ass in each hand.

She cried out, and he dipped his head to her throat. He kissed, licked, and nipped at the tender column of her neck while kneading the soft yet firm globes of her ass. Her throaty growls of pleasure made him so hot, so hard, his balls tightened with need. She wanted him, and there was no doubt that he wanted her, but he couldn’t take advantage of her. Even with every cell in his body screaming at him to claim what was rightfully his, he couldn’t do it not knowing the outcome of the current mess he was in.

If he was free to stay with her without the possibility of putting her in danger, he’d claim her without delay. But he was not. He would not claim her—mark her as his forever—without being able to freely promise her forever in return.

“You are so fucking tempting, angel,” he whispered against the soft skin above the neck of the gown.

The creamy swell of the tops of her breasts peeked from the fabric, and he longed to bare her fully to his eyes. He wanted to see the pink nipples tighten under his touch, wanted to witness the pleasure he bestowed upon her. Instead, he reluctantly pulled back and placed his forehead against hers.

They were both breathing heavily, and she clutched at his neck as if frantic for him to continue touching her. He knew exactly how she felt. The need to continue stroking her, to take them both to the pinnacle of their desire consumed him until it threatened his sanity.

“Don’t stop, Galen,” she pleaded.

“I have to, angel. You deserve so much more than I can give you right now.”

“I don’t care. I want you. Here. Now.”

“As I do you, but you will regret it later.”

She looked up at him and cupped his face in her hands. “I would never regret being with you.”

He leaned down and kissed her before staring into her beautiful eyes. “If I had to leave tomorrow, you would regret being with me tonight. Hell, Myka, if we made love and I had to leave at all, you’d regret it.”

“No.” She shook her head.

“Yes. You aren’t listening with your mind right now. You’re only listening to what your body and heart want. If I thought for a moment that our making love wouldn’t end up hurting you, I’d already be inside you.”

She gasped and undulated her hips. He doubted she was aware of what she did and ground his teeth together to keep from exploding when she rubbed against his throbbing cock.

“I would never regret making love to you, Myka, but I want it to be right for both of us.”

She sobbed, and he wrapped his arms around her. He stroked her hair as she lay against his chest while lust, love, and anger beat through him. It was unfair. Finding his mate was not supposed to be like this, riddled with danger and uncertainty of the future—if any—they would have together.

“I promise you, angel. I will make this right. One day we will be together. No matter what it takes, I’ll do it.”

And at that moment in time, he became resolved about what he might possibly have to do to keep that promise. Kill his own kind. Renewed anger tore at him once again. One thing was for certain. If he found out for sure that Terrance had caused this mess he was in—and he was ninety-nine percent sure now—the rogue was a dead man. He hoped when all hell broke loose the others who were after him would listen to reason and believe him. Because whatever they thought gave them the right to hunt him was wrong. He hadn’t done a damned thing to cause them to call out a manhunt for him.

He smiled when he heard Myka’s light, even breaths against him. She had fallen asleep. He wanted to sleep like this with her every night from now until the day he died. She was heaven in his arms. A miracle that he’d never thought to find.

“I love you, angel.”

She didn’t hear his whispered words, but he didn’t care. He needed to say them to her. One day soon, he hoped she’d say the words back. Until then, he’d relish every second he had with her.

* * *

“He’s damned good at covering his tracks.” Raze sniffed the air.

Lorent nodded in agreement. “We’ve barely caught a trace of his scent the past six months. By the time we do, he’s long gone.”

“If what Terrance says is true, we need to get him soon,” Knox said quietly.

Brent cast a quick glance in Terrance’s direction to make sure he was out of earshot.

“I’m not sure how much I believe what comes out of his mouth. At first, he was more convincing with his story. Now?” Brent shrugged. “I don’t know. Seems like a lot of the little details have changed over the months of retelling.”

“I’m with you on that,” Raze agreed. “I spent many years with rogues, and something about Terrance rubs me wrong. He has that restless shiftiness about him. Like he’s hiding something.”

“I can see that as well, but we have to get Galen and find out once and for all who’s telling the truth,” Knox said.

“I agree we need to hear his side of it. I’m just not sure at this point how amiable he’s going to be to telling us. We have been chasing him, and he obviously doesn’t want to be caught. He’s no pup. I haven’t come across many ancients that have turned rogue in my life. If we keep pushing, sooner or later he’s going to push back. We can’t afford to lose any more of our kind.” Brent clenched his fists.

“No. We can’t. But we have to clear this situation up,” Lorent said.

“I agree. I hope we can do it without bloodshed. When we get Galen’s scent again, we need to make a plan to capture him without anyone getting hurt. We can’t kill him and ask questions later simply on Terrance’s word,” Brent said.

“Still no paper trails?” Raze asked.

Brent shook his head. “Nope. We’re watching, but who are we kidding? He’s like us. Any one of us could survive the rest of our lives without money. It might not be a pretty life, but it’s doable.”

“You guys find something?” Terrance jogged up, then stopped beside the men.

“No. Not yet,” Knox answered.

“You need to kill that bastard as soon as we find him. He’s dangerous,” Terrance said.

Terrance had been gung ho on Galen’s death from the start, which in itself didn’t sit right with Brent. There was more to Terrance’s story, and he was going to find out what that was.

“He’ll be dealt with appropriately,” Brent murmured after a quick glance to Knox, Raze, and Lorent.

They nodded, in tune with exactly what Brent’s words meant. Terrance took them to mean they would be killing Galen on the spot. Little did the pup know that he would be scrutinized right along with Galen. And if they found out Terrance was a traitor? Brent was sure Terrance had no idea they were doubting his story. If he had, he would have made a run for it by now.

Brent hated the situation they were in. Why couldn’t all of his kind realize the importance of banding together? Of following the simple ancient rules in place to protect all females with the main scent? The lycan species was dying out thanks to the rogues killing off potential mates. If things didn’t turn around soon, there would be no saving the lycans.

He gritted his teeth. He hadn’t wanted to take Terrance with them on the hunt for Galen, but the idea of leaving him at Sanctuary was even more unappealing. All of their mates, and a few potential mates, lived there, and while the women were always heavily guarded, he couldn’t stand the thought of any threat near Rindy while he wasn’t there. The others felt the same way about their mates.

Brent thought about Rindy. She’d been chased by rogues for most of her life. Fortunately, he’d found her before it had been too late. That was the driving force that kept him going after rogues and maintaining Sanctuary. Many other lycans, including Knox, Raze, and Lorent, now helped at Sanctuary and with the reformation program for rogues. It had saved many rogues from being killed, including Lorent, who Brent trusted with his own life. If Lorent hadn’t been reformed, he would have never met his mate, Melony.

Now other Sanctuaries were popping up across the country. Brent hoped like hell it would be enough to save his kind.

* * *

Galen drove the old truck along the bumpy road. Patrick sat in the middle between him and Myka.

“It’s only about ten more minutes,” Myka said.

“Do I have to go see Doc Wheeler? I feel fine now,” Patrick scoffed.

“Yes. It won’t hurt to get checked over.”

Myka glanced over at Galen, who had barely said a word the whole ride to town. That morning, she’d awakened to find him still by Patrick’s side, as he’d promised. After she’d thanked him again, he’d left. By the time she’d gotten Patrick up and breakfast ready, Galen had fed the horses, turned them out for the day, picked the stalls, and was working on getting the rest of the garden harvested.

While Patrick had been getting dressed, she brought Galen some orange juice and an egg sandwich. He’d eaten all of it in a few big bites. He did seem to like her cooking. By the time she’d taken the dirty plate back inside and made sure Patrick was ready, Galen had all of the veggies from the garden lying in a neat row on the tailgate of the pickup and had found the small chicken coop beside the house.

They talked about building a bigger one, and he agreed that it would be a good idea. However, she didn’t miss that he didn’t come right out and say he’d build it for her. Was he planning on leaving soon? Her stomach flittered. She hoped not. She was starting to get used to having Galen around. More than that, she liked having him around. If only he’d stay for the long haul. She could easily see herself settling down with him. He was a good, caring man, and Patrick liked him as well. As far as she was concerned, if the animals and kid both liked him, he couldn’t be that bad.

After she’d gathered the rest of the eggs from the fridge, she’d taken them to the truck. She then took out the vegetables she planned to keep and washed the others and packed them in plastic containers. After loading the truck, they’d all started for town.

“If there is anything you need to do in town, Galen, please feel free.”

“I could use a couple pairs of jeans and some T-shirts. But I’ll unload the truck for you and get you and Patrick to Doc Wheeler’s before picking them up.”

They pulled into town before she could answer, and she pointed to Mr. Lee’s grocery store. Galen parked out front, then turned off the engine.

“I can take care of this, Galen. You’ve already done more than enough this morning. You should take some time for yourself.”

“I’m going to unload the truck for you. I don’t mind, and it’ll only take me a couple minutes.”

“You are a stubborn man, aren’t you?” She grinned because she couldn’t help it. Besides, how could she get upset with him because he wanted to help her?

“Sometimes.” He winked at her before getting out of the truck.

She talked to Mr. Lee after Galen unloaded the produce for her, and was pleasantly surprised at the price he paid for it.

“It’s getting close to most things being out of season around here. The demand is higher for the fresh stuff right now. After this, I’m going to have to order out,” Mr. Lee said while pushing his thick glasses further up his nose.

She’d always liked Mr. Lee. He wasn’t much taller than she was, but was several years older and had a sprinkling of gray throughout his dark hair.

“Thank you.”

“No sense in thanking me, Myka. You always bring me beautiful produce. If anything, I should be thanking you. Everyone loves it when I get a load of your stuff in.” Mr. Lee smiled warmly. “Patrick, why don’t you go and pick something for yourself from the candy aisle?”

Patrick’s eyes lit up. “Can I, Myka?”

“One thing.” She lifted one finger to stress the term one clearly. “Hurry, because we need to be getting over to Doc Wheeler’s.”

They watched as Patrick scurried off.

“He sick?” Mr. Lee asked.

“He had a fever last night, but it’s gone now. I’m taking him in as a precautionary measure.” Myka smiled and motioned for Galen, who had been waiting by the door.

“This is Galen, Mr. Lee. He’s been helping me out at the farm.”

“Nice to meet you.” Galen shook Mr. Lee’s offered hand.

“I’m glad you found someone else, Myka. I know it’s been hard for you.”

“I’ve managed.” Her cheeks heated.

“I know you’ve managed. You are a hard worker, determined as hell, but you needed some time off. All you ever do is work. Now you can spend some more time with Patrick. I know you’ve been wanting to be able to do that. Maybe you can work some time in there for yourself as well.” Mr. Lee grinned.

“Maybe.” She laughed.

“You should go buy that dress you’ve been eyeing at Susie’s across the street,” Mr. Lee said.

“You know as well as I do that there is nowhere for me to wear a dress like that around here. It would be a waste of money.”

“Not if it makes you feel good. You deserve something for yourself once in a while.”

Myka didn’t miss the way Galen was watching her, or the frown he was sporting.

“I’ve got to get Patrick to Doc’s. Patrick!” she called.

“Right here.” Patrick walked over beside her with a huge lollipop in one hand.

“What do you tell Mr. Lee?”

“Thank you, Mr. Lee,” Patrick said.

“You are more than welcome. I’ll see you all later. It was nice meeting you, Galen. You take care of our girl.”

“I’ll do my best,” Galen said in a low voice as they all made their way out of the store.

“Doc is just a block that way.” She pointed to the left. “We can leave the truck here. If you still want to pick up some jeans and shirts, Susie’s has men’s clothing as well.” She pointed across the street.

Galen reached down and ruffled Patrick’s hair.

“Meet back at the truck?”

“Sounds good. Maybe we can get some lunch before heading back. There’s a small diner up the road.”

“I love eating at Polly’s. The food there is awesome!” Patrick practically jumped up and down.

“I guess that’s settled then.” Myka laughed.

“I’ll see you two in a bit.” Galen nodded.

Myka watched him jog across the street before she turned and started toward Doc’s with Patrick. The man was sexy, but he wasn’t an ass about it. She’d met some good-looking guys in her time. Most seemed to know it, and it had shown in their inflated egos. She didn’t like egotistical men. It was a big turnoff. If Galen knew he was good-looking—and he’d have to be blind not to—she’d never seen him use it to his advantage. She liked that about him. Hell, there wasn’t much she didn’t like about him.

As she walked with Patrick to Doc’s, she remembered the dream she had last night. It had seemed so real. Galen had set her on fire with his kisses, with his hands, but he had refused to make love to her. He hadn’t wanted her to regret it. Even in her dream he’d all but told her he was going to leave. But in the dream, he’d promised to come back.

You’ve got to stop it. No matter how many reasons there were pointing to why she shouldn’t have feelings for Galen, she simply couldn’t stop herself from liking him. Liking? She was sure that a simple nudge could turn her feelings for him into much more than like. Maybe that nudge has already happened.

She had to focus. She couldn’t afford to get involved with Galen because if she did, she wasn’t the only one who’d get hurt. She glanced down at Patrick, who was happily licking the lollipop, which was considerably smaller than a few minutes ago. Why couldn’t Galen stay? Patrick needed a man in his life. She needed a man in her life. A plan started to form in her head. Maybe if she showed Galen how good life could be with her and Patrick here in Loring, he’d be too happy to leave.

She sighed. She was an adult, for goodness’ sake. She was well aware that changing Galen’s mind wouldn’t be that easy. But why? She was growing suspicious of him. While he was kind, generous, and honest with her, there was always an edge about him. As if he was constantly looking over his shoulder expecting something to happen. Or maybe someone? Was he in some kind of trouble?

Stop it. Galen is a good man. He’s given no reason to assume the worst about him. Deep down she didn’t believe he’d done anything wrong. She was searching for a reason he couldn’t stay, a bigger reason than he didn’t want to, because then it wouldn’t feel like she wasn’t enough for him. She shook her head.

“What’s wrong?” Patrick asked in between licks.

“Nothing, baby.” She patted him on the back. “Nothing at all.”

Chapter Seven

Galen left the store carrying his packages. He was nearly out of cash, and needed to find a way to get more without tipping off his pursuers. He had plenty of money. He’d been around a long time, had accumulated substantial wealth, but he had to be extra careful about accessing any of it since the manhunt on him had started. They would have done their research on him. He was sure if he dipped into any of his accounts, they’d be tipped off immediately. He didn’t need money to survive, but he wanted to make sure Myka was taken care of before he left. If anything happened to him before he could resolve the predicament he was in and get back to her, he wanted to make sure she never had to worry about money again.

He’d get it done. There were a few people who owed him favors, and he’d make sure Myka and Patrick were looked after before he disappeared.

He spotted Myka and Patrick talking to an older woman with graying hair beside the truck. Myka was smiling that smile that made him warm inside, made him feel good, made all in the world seem right—even when it wasn’t.

Thus far, he hadn’t scented any lycans in the area, and for the time being, he was at ease. But as he proceeded to the truck, he doubted that feeling would last long.

“My great-grandson is coming to visit tomorrow for a few days. I thought it would be wonderful if Patrick could come stay with us for a couple nights. Leroy would love the company. We have a great time during his visits, but there is only so much to do in this small town. I know he would enjoy having someone his own age to play with. He and Patrick are only separated by three months.”

“Oh, can I? Can I, please?” Patrick hopped up and down in front of Myka.

Galen put the packages in the truck, then went around and stood beside them. Myka immediately turned a bright smile on him, and his insides turned to mush.

“This is Galen. He’s been helping me out at my place,” Myka said to the woman. “Galen, this is Betty Case. She’s a retired psychiatrist. She makes special visits to see Patrick.”

Betty smiled warmly at him, the crinkles around her eyes telling him she smiled often. He hadn’t missed Myka’s hint about Betty helping Patrick either. He assumed she was helping him cope with his father’s death and the circumstances arising from it.

“Pleasure to meet you, Betty,” Galen said.

“I was trying to convince Myka to let me have Patrick for a couple days while my great-grandson visits.”

Galen liked Patrick, but the chance to be alone with Myka was an opportunity he wouldn’t mind having.

“How did the visit go with Doc?” Galen asked.

“He thinks Patrick simply overdid things with the hay and rain.” Myka frowned.

“We’ll have to make sure you don’t work too hard next round of hay,” Galen said to Patrick.

“So can I go, Myka? Please?”

“You know your play day is tomorrow?” When she saw the disappointment that crept over his young face, she knew she was doomed. “Tell you what. As long as your fever doesn’t come back before tomorrow, you can go. Otherwise, you have to stay home. It probably wouldn’t be a good idea for you to be around all of those other kids so soon anyway. Might get you overexcited. However, I’m sure hanging out with Betty and Leroy would be fine.”

“Yay!” Patrick whooped. “My fever won’t come back. I know it won’t!”

They all laughed, and Myka invited Betty to have lunch with them at Polly’s, but she politely declined.

“I have to get my house cleaned and in order for my company. Would you like for me to come pick Patrick up tomorrow?” Betty asked.

“No. I’ll bring him to you. You have enough going on. What time would you like him?”

“About four? Then he can eat supper with Leroy and I.”

“We’ll see you then.” Myka smiled.

“Good to meet you. You take care of our Myka.”

“I will do that,” Galen answered. He would always take care of Myka as long as he was around . . . and even when he wasn’t.

“I’m starving.” Patrick’s stomach rumbled loudly.

“Are you finished with your errands, Galen?” Myka asked.

“Yes. I’m hungry too. If you don’t need to do anything else, we can go eat.”

Myka nodded, and Patrick headed for the truck. Galen reached behind the seat and pulled out one of the packages before getting in. He handed it to Patrick.

“For me?” His eyes were wide.

“Yes.”

He started the truck as Patrick tore into the box.

“Wow.” He stared down at the dark brown cowboy hat.

“Do you like it?” Galen asked.

“Course I do.” He stuck it on his head. “Thank you!”

Galen didn’t miss the frown that pulled down at Myka’s lips before quickly being replaced by a smile when Patrick looked her way. Was she upset because he’d bought Patrick the hat? Maybe he should have asked her first.

“It looks great on you, Patrick.” Myka tapped the top of the hat.

The next few moments were filled with Patrick talking about how he wanted to be a cowboy when he grew up, and he only stopped when Galen parked the truck in front of Polly’s. Patrick jumped out of the truck after Myka slid out of the passenger seat, and hurried ahead of them.

“I should have asked you before giving him the hat,” Galen said quietly to Myka so Patrick couldn’t hear.

She glanced up at him. “No. It’s okay. It’s just . . .”

Myka didn’t get to finish that sentence, as after they walked through the door, they were greeted by a hostess and seated. Soon after, they ordered, ate, and made the drive back to the farm.

* * *

Later that night, Galen rubbed Buddy’s neck as the horse munched on some hay.

“It’s a beautiful night,” he said.

“How did you know I was here?” Myka asked, surprised.

He turned toward her and shrugged. What was he supposed to tell her? That the closer she got to him, the stronger her scent grew? That even though he was all the way out in the barn, he could hear her open the door to the house? Hear every light step she took as she walked to the barn?

She had showered and wore a dark blue long-sleeved shirt and black baggy jeans. Her damp hair fell around her face and shoulders, and his fingers itched to touch her. Her scent called to him, and he had to fight the urge to go to her and take her in his arms.

“We never got to finish our discussion about the hat,” he said before leaning against a support post that ran up to the loft. “I should have asked you first.”

“Patrick loves the hat. I had to wait until he fell asleep to get it off him.”

“Yes, but you weren’t happy about my giving it to him.”

“Why do you say that?” She frowned.

“I’m very in tune to you.”

She watched him for a moment before sighing.

“Why didn’t you want me to give it to him?”

“Because he’s getting too close to you.”

“And?”

“And he needs a man in his life—a father figure. When you leave, it will tear him apart. Giving him things is only going to make it worse for him. He’s been through enough.”

“People come in and out of our lives all of the time. The simple fact that they may not stay forever shouldn’t be a reason to not get close to them. Every time we care about someone, that experience enriches our lives. It does hurt when we lose someone we care about, but it’s better to have had that time with them than not to have met them at all.”

“Maybe.”

“It’s no different than animals, Myka. One day Buddy will die. One day Chloe will die. Would you so readily trade the love, the joy that they brought into your life, the time that you got to spend with them for not having to feel the pain of their loss?”

“No. I know you are right, but Buddy will be around for a long time.”

“That’s not guaranteed. Life is fragile. Buddy probably will be around for a long time, but Buddy could die tomorrow, next week, next month just as easily. Every moment we spend with anyone, anything, that brings us happiness is a gift to be treasured.”

He went to her and placed his hands on her shoulders.

“If things were different in my life right now, I would give you my word that I would never leave here. Why can’t we cherish the time we have? I never thought I’d meet a woman like you. You are perfect in every way.”

“You don’t know me that well.” She gasped.

He gazed down into the mesmerizing blue-violet pools of her eyes.

“I know you, and whether you want to admit it or not, you know me.”

“I know you are a good man. I know that I want you even if I shouldn’t, but I can’t be with you. If I give myself to you, I’ll be crushed when you leave. So will Patrick. I need to be strong for him.”

“You are the strongest woman I know. Us being together is not going to change that. It’s not wrong for you—for us—to want something for ourselves. But you are right. I will not make love to you without being able to promise you more than one night. That doesn’t mean I can’t love you in other ways. That doesn’t mean I can’t bring you pleasure.”

He bent closer to her and ran his lips along her cheek before hovering over her luscious mouth.

“Will you let me bring you pleasure, Myka?”

“On one condition?”

His brow shot up in surprise, and she laughed huskily.

“You let me give you pleasure as well.”

He grinned down at her. “I think I can consent to that.”

Need slammed into him hard. Years of longing for her, his mate, rushed his veins like a shot of pure adrenaline. He had to fight the itch of his canines, fangs that were trying to pop through his gums in anticipation of claiming a mate. She’d hate him if he bit her, turned her into what he was, without giving her a choice. He’d never betray her like that. She was everything to him.

He bunched his fingers in her thick hair and tugged her head back before slanting his mouth over hers.

“No regrets.” His words came out in a low growl.

She swallowed hard. “No regrets,” she whispered.

* * *

Galen’s mouth crashed down on hers, and her knees nearly gave out under the onslaught of emotions that slammed into her, through her, and pulsed in her veins. His masculine scent was intoxicating. She was being pulled under by the strong current and had no desire to fight it. She vaguely noticed that he was guiding her backward as his tongue stroked hers, igniting a fire inside her that she doubted could ever be fully doused.

He was demanding and dominant, took what he wanted, but she was all too willing to give him what he asked for without hesitation. His lips were hard and soft at the same time, and when he pushed her down into a pile of soft hay, he breathed in the whoosh of air from her lungs as she landed in the fluffy heap. The fingers tangled in her hair held her firmly while he explored her with his other hand. He cupped her breast and rubbed his thumb back and forth over her nipple until it hardened into a stiff peak.

He growled low as his tongue continued exploring every secret place in her mouth. She moaned and pushed against his wicked fingers, urging him on. She opened her thighs when he nudged her with his knee, and he wedged his hips between them. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist, get as close to him as possible, but he was simply too big. That was when she realized that no matter how close they were, even skin to skin, it wouldn’t be close enough. She’d never get enough of him.

He inflamed her, engulfed her, sent her spiraling headlong on a reckless journey of desire and need that clawed to get at him. Somehow she was aware that he was the only one who’d be able to make her feel like this, make her ache and burn with need.

When he broke the kiss, she cried out at the sudden loss of his lips on hers, but pleasure soared in her once again after he pushed her shirt up and sucked one bared nipple into his mouth. She writhed against the hay as he twirled his tongue around the stiffened peak of one, then the other puckered tip. Heat pooled between her thighs, where a dull ache began to throb and pulse in time with each kiss, nip, lick.

She clawed at his shirt until he finally untangled his fingers from her hair and let her pull it over his head. His hot skin was heaven under her fingers. She traced every muscle she could reach along his shoulders and back. There was nothing soft about his body. He was hard contours of ripped steel covered in skin. He was powerful. A man in his prime. He kissed down to her navel and went to work opening the button and zip of her jeans.

He licked around her belly button before blowing playfully on her wet skin. She giggled, then gasped when his hand slid under her jeans and panties and settled over her mound. He growled when his finger glided unhindered through the slickened folds, and her nails dug into his shoulders. He reared up and loomed over her. Hazel eyes shimmered down at her.

Her lungs seemed to forget how to work as he stared at her. When he stroked her clit with his thumb, she moaned low in her throat. She tried to sit up, but he splayed his other hand wide in the middle of her chest, imprisoning her. He stroked her again, and her whole body jerked in response.

“You like that, angel?”

She couldn’t have spoken at that moment even if it meant saving her life, so she nodded. He stroked her again and edged one finger inside her pussy with ease. Her muscles clamped around him, and shivers ran down her spine, straight to her clit.

He growled again.

“You are like hot, wet silk. Do you know what it does to me knowing that I can do this”—he stroked her again, and she moaned—”to you?”

She looked down to see his erection straining against his jeans.

“I think I might have some idea,” she whispered.

He sat up on his knees and pulled her jeans, along with her panties, off her legs. There was little time for her to comprehend what he was doing before she found herself facedown over his thighs.

“Galen!”

“Shh.” He stroked her back before massaging the muscles with his warm hands.

His touch was packed with whimper-inducing pleasure, and when he kneaded the bare cheeks of her ass, she sighed.

“You have the most delectable ass, Myka.”

Before she could respond, he trailed his long fingers down between her thighs and dipped two inside her wetness. He laid the other palm over her cheeks, and heat seared her skin when he spread them wide so he had better access to her drenched opening. When he retreated from her sheath and slid his wet fingers over her clit, she bucked her hips against him. Pressure built inside her until she could barely breathe.

“I’m going to make you come for me, angel.”

His hard cock strained against her side through his jeans as he continued alternating strokes deep inside her and over her clit. A scream built in her throat, but she couldn’t release it. There was too much pressure everywhere in her body. His long fingers stretched her, toyed with her, coaxed her until her skin hurt from the intense need swelling inside her.

“That’s it. Ride my fingers, angel.”

She hadn’t realized she’d been rocking her hips against his hand, taking him deep, then retreating. On each retreat, he stroked her clit before sliding home again. She rested her head on her forearms and whimpered. He urged her to ride him faster, faster until her head began to spin, and her body flew apart. The scream finally shot from her throat as she came. She cried out his name over and over as her muscles clenched and unclenched around him in spasms.

When the waves began to calm, he kept his fingers deep inside her while he lightly rubbed his other hand over her back. Despite the cool night air in the barn, a fine sheen of sweat clung to her skin. She’d never come that hard in her life. He bent over her and placed a warm, inviting openmouthed kiss on her shoulder before he helped her sit up. Instead of letting her embarrassment from being nude from the waist down bother her, she straddled his hips.

He stretched his arms up and linked his fingers behind his head before leaning slightly back against the hay bales. Sitting on his lap, she was almost eye level with him—almost.

He’d given her so much pleasure, had been in control the whole time, taking what he wanted from her with urgency, but never hurting her. He could so easily do so, even without meaning to, but he seemed to be attuned to everything she felt, everything she needed. It was as if he knew how far he could push her, how much he could bend her before she’d break. And when she did break? Oh, how the fireworks had exploded.

She longed to give him the same toe-curling pleasure he’d just given her. She cupped his face in her hands and bent to rain kisses over his eyes, nose, cheeks, and jaw. The stubble growing on his jaw tickled her, but she liked the way it felt and nuzzled him before making her way to his lips. She gently bit his bottom lip, then sucked it into her mouth.

A low growl emanated from his throat, but he kept his hands behind his head. She ran her palms over his shoulders and down his chest, which was sprinkled with a fine dusting of hair. She slipped her tongue inside his mouth as her fingers glided over his rock-hard abs. She’d never get tired of touching him, of looking at him. She continued her journey downward and reached between their bodies to cup him through his jeans. They groaned in unison. He was heavy, hot, hard against her hand, and she stroked him through the now-offensive fabric keeping her from touching his bare cock.

She reached for the top button and struggled with it from the pressure of his erection, but it finally broke free. After easing the zipper down, she slid her hand inside. He was going commando, and she sighed when she finally wrapped her fingers around him. He was as hard as stone, yet his skin was silky soft.

She broke the kiss and watched his face as she stroked him. He gritted his teeth, and a barely discernible tic started in his jaw.

“You’re going to kill me, angel.”

“I don’t want to kill you,” she whispered. “I only want to make you come.”

He groaned when she stroked him more firmly then cupped his balls and gently squeezed. He bucked his hips up, and she began a slow rhythm over him with her hand that made him grunt with each downward beat. She brushed her thumb intermittently over the thick crown. The slick fluid leaking from the head allowed her hand to glide more smoothly over him.

He sat up straighter and brought one hand down to cover hers. He didn’t guide her in any way, simply followed her every move.

He cupped the back of her nape with his other hand and rested his forehead against hers. His breathing came in erratic pants, and he stared into her eyes. The glow in the infinite silver pools was unmistakable now, but she found them beautiful instead of strange.

“That’s it, angel. You have no idea what your touch does to me.” He rolled his hips in rhythm to her hand pumping over him.

“I’m pretty sure I do.” She sat up on her knees and guided him to her slick folds, where she rubbed against him as she stroked him with her hand.

“Myka!” he roared as his head shot back, and the veins in the thick column of his throat pulsed. His hot release coated her hand, and he bucked against her until every last drop was spent.

Chapter Eight

Galen had nearly lost it when Myka rubbed herself against his cock as she fucked him with her hand. He thought his balls would explode with the effort it took to keep from thrusting up into her hot, wet channel, where he belonged. He still wasn’t sure how he’d kept from claiming her.

She lay snuggled against his chest with his shirt covering her lower half. He would have preferred to keep her naked, but it was cool, and he didn’t want her to get chilled. He’d never been more at odds with himself than now. Part of him was happy, content. Another part was angry, and confused. He wanted to stay here with her. She was his mate, and he was going to have to leave her at least long enough to clear up the little misunderstanding that had plagued him for the last several months.

He would have to tell her who and what he was before he left. There was no way around it. He needed to make sure she could protect herself while he was gone, and if she had no idea what she was up against, she didn’t stand a chance.

“Myka, I need to tell you something,” he said quietly.

This wouldn’t go well. It never did when a human found out lycans existed.

“What’s that?” she said groggily against his chest.

Before he could say another word, a scent hit him. Another lycan. He sat up straight and sniffed at the air. Nothing. It had been faint, nearly undetectable, which meant the other lycan was far away and a stray breeze had carried the scent farther than normal. Or he was good at covering his tracks. Whichever, Galen was certain the other lycan was not close enough at the moment to be a threat. However, the fact that the scent reached him at all set him on edge.

“What did you want to tell me?” Myka said again.

She sat up and looked at him, and he smiled down at her.

“It was nothing. You look exhausted. It can wait until tomorrow. Why don’t you get dressed and go inside to your nice warm bed, angel?”

“I’d rather stay here with you,” she said sleepily.

“I’d rather you did as well, but I don’t think that would be a good idea with Patrick.”

“No. You are right.”

She felt around for her jeans and wiggled into them minus her panties, which she balled up and stuck in her pocket.

“Tomorrow night I would love to sleep with you in my arms all night,” he said before brushing her dark hair off her face.

She smiled up at him, and the brightness of that smile lightened his soul. She handed him his T-shirt, and he pulled it over his head and down to his waist. After he stood, he righted his jeans and held his hand out to help her up.

“I’d like that as well, Galen.”

He kissed her on the cheek, afraid he wouldn’t be able to stop if he took her sweet mouth again.

“I’ll walk you to the house.”

She nodded and held his hand all the way to her front door, where he kissed her again on the cheek before she disappeared inside. He waited until her bedroom light came on and went back out a few minutes later before hurrying to the edge of the woods.

As he stripped off his clothes, folded them, and laid them in the notch of a tree, he called to his wolf. It readily leapt to the surface, and he sprinted off into the darkness. He ran for what seemed like miles before he caught a faint scent of the lycan once again. Slowing his pace, he lowered his head and proceeded cautiously. He stopped and sniffed at the air every few feet, but couldn’t detect the scent again.

If not for the fact that the scent had come from the east, he would have been more apt to dismiss it as no more than a stray lycan passing through. However, the ones who had been chasing him would come from the east, yet the scent wasn’t familiar to him. He’d immediately recognize the scent of any of his pursuers. Maybe they had sent in fresh blood for the hunt. But knowing his kind, that was not likely the case. Wolves were relentless once on the hunt. They didn’t give up the trail to others easily.

He was more than fifteen miles out from Myka’s house, and planned to go out even farther before scouting the perimeter and heading back. If he didn’t pick up the scent again, he’d hunker down and keep an even closer watch. If he did catch the scent again, he’d have to assume whoever it was was looking for him. In that case, he’d get his belongings and lead them away from Myka and Patrick. Anger tore through him, and the urge to howl his sorrow into the endless depth of the black sky beat at him.

He didn’t dare do so. One lone howl would be like sending into the sky a big, glowing red arrow pointing down at his exact location.

Hours later, he sat on the edge of the bed in his room. One of the packages he’d bought the day before at Susie’s sat at the end of the mattress unopened. He rubbed his hands over his face. He was tired from roaming the forest all night, but he refused to sleep until he was sure doing so wouldn’t put Myka or Patrick in potential danger. That meant he’d be catching an hour or two later when Myka drove Patrick into town.

After showering and putting on a new pair of jeans and T-shirt, he went to feed the horses. He’d have to do a load of laundry later as well. Myka had given him permission to use her washer and dryer whenever he needed.

He stretched his arms over his head after throwing the last horse some hay. When he went to the front of the barn and stood at the double doors, the soft glow of the rising sun was sending streaks of pink across the sky. He sniffed the crisp, cool air, and sighed in relief when he didn’t detect any threat. He hoped like hell that the scent he’d caught last night had been nothing but a strange, off-chance anomaly—a passing lycan in the distance.

Although it would not be an uncommon occurrence for a lone lycan to pass through, given the dense forest that surrounded them for miles, he was skeptical due to the underlying circumstances. He should have left when he’d planned, but he hadn’t been able to walk out on Myka when Patrick had been sick.

Then why didn’t you leave last night? That was the million-dollar fucking question. Except he knew the answer, and it wasn’t a good one. His own selfish needs could have put her and Patrick in danger. Tonight would be his last night with her. He would spend a few hours with her after Patrick left, then slip away into the darkness.

“And I’ll remedy my current predicament and come back and claim my mate,” he forced through clenched teeth.

* * *

“He almost caught on to us last night,” Terrance said.

“There was no almost about it,” Brent answered. “If we’d been any closer, he’d have known it was us. If we hadn’t brought the other scent with us to throw him off, we would have been made. He’s good. Really good. We’re miles away, and yet he honed right in on us.”

Rindy and some of the other women at Sanctuary had come up with the brilliant idea of bottling the scent of other lycans. In this case, it had worked beautifully in covering their tracks. However, Brent was doubting Terrance’s story even more now. The pup was too nervous, too anxious to kill Galen.

Another problem had arisen as well. There was a potential mate in the area. He was sure Raze, Knox, and Lorent had detected her as well. If Terrance hadn’t, he soon would. Brent wasn’t comfortable with a rogue this close to a potential mate. And what did that say about Galen? Had he found the female? Was he truly what Terrance had claimed him to be? A rapist? A murderer? If so, the woman could be in serious trouble. But what if Galen was simply trying to protect her?

Brent couldn’t risk it. He knew they had to contain the situation as soon as possible. The fact that a potential mate could now be involved only intensified the need to act swiftly. Galen would be on high alert after catching the decoy scent they’d sent out tonight, which meant one of two things. If Galen had found the female and was protecting her, he’d run tonight—try to lure them away from her. If he’d found her and was what Terrance claimed him to be, he’d stay put and let them come to him. Then a bloody standoff would ensue.

“We have to go in tonight,” Brent said.

Knox, Raze, and Lorent nodded.

“We’re gonna kill him, right?” Terrance practically glowed like a four-year-old in a candy shop.

“We, as in you, aren’t going to do anything. You are staying back until after Knox, Raze, Lorent, and I get the situation under control.”

“No! I want to be in on killing the bastard after what he did to me—um, to that girl.”

Brent spun and pinned the pup to a tree by the throat. Terrance dangled about six inches from the ground.

“Listen up, and listen good, pup.” Brent had come to the end of his patience with Terrance. “You do exactly what I say, what any of us say, to the letter. If you don’t, there is going to be a serious problem. You get what I’m fucking saying?”

Brent didn’t miss the quick gleam of defiance that shined in Terrance’s eyes before he quickly nodded in agreement. Yep. This was going to get ugly. He could feel it in his bones. He dropped the pup to the ground before turning back to the others.

“This is how it’s going to go down.”

The others, minus Terrance, who skulked by the tree he’d been pinned against, gathered around him to listen.

* * *

Myka stared at Galen while they ate lunch. Patrick, oblivious to anything at the moment but eating his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, hummed as he chewed a mouthful of the sticky concoction.

“I stripped the stalls down and lined them with fresh sawdust. The horses are in the pasture, and their food is already in the stalls for when they come back in tonight.”

She and Galen were eating toasted cheese. She’d offered to make Patrick one as well, but he’d insisted on the peanut butter.

“Thank you.”

The phone started ringing, and when she answered it, she heard Betty’s voice on the other end.

“Hi, Betty.”

“Leroy got here a bit earlier than expected. He’s looking forward to meeting Patrick.”

“Yes, Patrick is looking forward to meeting Leroy as well.”

“I can’t wait!” Patrick wiggled in his seat.

Myka laughed.

“I was wondering if you would mind if I drove out to pick him up now?”

“Oh? I suppose that would be okay.”

“If you’d rather wait until four, I’ll understand. Leroy is just so excited about meeting Patrick.”

“No, really, that is fine, Betty. I didn’t want you to have to make the drive, is all. Would you like for me to bring him?”

“No, dear. I’ll be there in about an hour.”

“We’ll see you then.”

“Bye-bye.”

“Bye, Betty.” Myka hung up the phone. “Looks like you get to leave earlier than expected, kiddo,” she said to Patrick.

“Really?” Patrick said giddily.

“Yep. Finish eating and go get your things together. Ms. Case will be here in an hour to pick you up.”

“Yay!” Patrick pumped his fist in the air. “Isn’t that awesome, Galen?”

Galen smiled and nodded, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Patrick gulped the rest of his sandwich down. “Can I go pack now?”

“Sure. Put your plate in the sink first. I’ll be there in a minute to help you.”

He hurriedly shoved the plate in the sink and skipped out of the room.

“You’ve been quiet today.” She took the last bite of her sandwich before pushing the plate away.

“Have a lot on my mind.” He watched her from under half-closed lids as he ate the rest of his sandwich.

“Would you like another?” She nodded toward his empty plate.

“I think four is enough.”

“I thought one was enough.” She laughed.

“You don’t require as much fuel as I do.”

“I guess that’s true.” Definitely true. He was at least two of her combined. “You want to talk about it?”

“No. It can wait until later.”

She nodded. A knot began forming in her stomach. Whatever he had to tell her, she wasn’t going to like. She had a good idea of what it was, but hoped she was wrong.

“I’ll take care of the dishes if you want to help Patrick,” Galen offered.

They both stood, reached for her plate at the same time, and their fingers met. He covered her hand with his and slowly drew her to him. She always felt tiny next to him, but his size was never intimidating to her. She assumed that wasn’t always the case for others who met Galen. He was a formidable man, and she suspected not many went out of their way to irritate him.

She tilted her head back to stare up at his strong jaw covered with dark stubble, then into those mesmerizing eyes she had grown quite fond of.

He dipped his head and kissed her. She moaned when he teased his tongue past her lips and inside her mouth. A low rumble echoed in his chest in answer. A growl that she was growing accustomed to. A growl that always had the same effect on her. Her skin heated as if she were suddenly standing next to a fire that had flared too hot. In a way, she had. Galen was that fire, and if she got too close, he’d burn her.

He lifted his head and stared down at her. Too late. Already too close. And that was when it hit her. She’d fallen in love with him. Logic told her it wasn’t possible. She hadn’t known him long enough, but apparently her heart had not gotten the memo. Great going, Myka. Now when he leaves, he’s going to take your heart with him.

“I’m going to go help Patrick now.” She edged away from him.

He nodded. “I’ll finish up here. Then I’m going to make some repairs on the paddocks. I’ll see you later.”

As she turned to walk away, Galen’s warm fingers encircled her arm and tugged her gently back to face him.

“I’m looking forward to holding you in my arms tonight.”

“I’m looking forward to that as well.”

It wasn’t until he let out a slow breath that she realized he’d been holding it. Had he been worried that she’d changed her mind? If she was smart, she would change her mind, but she’d never been in love before. She wanted to experience it for however long she could. After all, she may never get the chance to do so again.

He brought her hand up to his mouth, brushed his lips over the back of it, then stroked his thumb over her skin before releasing her.

* * *

Galen had gotten most of the boards on the paddocks replaced before the sound of a car pulling up the drive distracted him. He assumed it was Betty coming to pick up Patrick. As he made his way around the barn, Patrick ran out of the front door, toward the car, with a small overnight bag in one hand and his cowboy hat in the other. He changed course when he saw Galen and came to a screeching halt in front of him.

“I’m leaving now,” he said after firmly planting the cowboy hat on his head.

“I see that.”

Galen didn’t miss the way Patrick stared up at him expectantly. He reached out and patted him on the shoulder, which seemed to appease him.

“Have a good time.”

“I will. Take care of Myka for me.” Patrick leaned closer and whispered, “She gets kind of stressed out when I’m gone. She doesn’t know I know that, but I do. Don’t tell her I told you.”

“I’ll take good care of her. Don’t worry.”

Galen smiled when Patrick launched himself against his legs and gave him a quick hug.

“K! See ya.” He turned and ran back toward the car where Betty and a boy that appeared to be the same age as Patrick stood talking to Myka.

The boy had to be Leroy. He was the complete opposite of Patrick. Leroy had dark hair, brown eyes, and dark skin. Patrick was blond with green eyes and lighter skin. He figured Patrick must have taken after his mother in the looks department because Myka had dark hair and skin as well. Unless, of course, Myka’s brother had had the same coloring as Patrick.

Betty and Myka talked for a moment while Patrick and Leroy got acquainted. Betty waved at Galen before she opened the passenger side of the SUV to let the boys in and helped them buckle their seat belts.

“Hey! I didn’t get my hug,” Myka said before leaning into the SUV and giving Patrick a good squeeze.

Within a couple minutes, the SUV was making its way back down the drive. Myka slowly walked toward him. The slight sway of her hips called to him like a siren’s song. He wondered if she had any idea how incredibly sexy she was. Did she possibly understand how much she turned him on? How much he wanted her? Did she know how much power she held over him? That she had the ability to crush him in her tiny hands?

No. She didn’t. He was sure of that. And he was even more sure that if she did, she’d never use that power against him. He’d met women who used their sex appeal to get what they wanted from men. Myka was nothing like those women.

“I almost have the paddocks repaired.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She smiled up at him.

His gut clenched. He’d rather die than walk away from her, but if he didn’t . . . she might die. That was unacceptable.

“You’ve done fine without me up until this point. You’d continue to do fine without me now.”

“I suppose, but you’ve made my life easier. It has slowed down now with the gardening out of the way for the year, but I still couldn’t have gotten all of the things done that you have already.”

“Making your life easier brings me great pleasure.”

“I have to do some paperwork and clean the chicken coop. After that, I’ll help you bring the horses in and brush them down.”

He wanted to kiss her, but if he did, he had no doubt he’d have her on the dirt in two seconds flat, taking advantage of her. He remembered last night, and his cock twitched. He hadn’t been the only one taking advantage. And damned if he hadn’t loved it.

“I’m not sure what I’m cooking for dinner. I thought I’d wing it,” Myka said.

“I could help.”

“You cook?” she asked in surprise.

“It is the twenty-first century. Men do cook on occasion,” he said sardonically.

“I guess you’re right.” She laughed. “I’d love to have help cooking dinner.”

She nodded and slowly turned toward the chicken coop. He couldn’t help but watch her delectable ass as she walked away. The dark jeans perfectly outlined the curve of her hips. He gritted his teeth as he fought down the wolf and his own need to chase after her. He never thought he could want a woman as badly as he wanted Myka. The yearning made his body ache, and the thought that she may very well hate him after tonight nearly killed him.

Chapter Nine

Anticipation rode him hard as Galen tapped on the door. He’d spent all afternoon doing hard physical labor trying to keep his need for Myka in check, which had barely managed to take the edge off. When it had finally gotten close to dinnertime, he’d brought the horses in and showered.

While he liked spending time with Patrick, he was glad for the upcoming evening he and Myka could share alone. Not to mention that he thought it was good for Patrick to hang out with Leroy. Boys needed to be boys, and Galen hoped the two days Patrick spent at Betty’s would provide a pleasant distraction and give him a moment’s peace from a reality without his father.

When Myka opened the door, all thoughts fled his mind, and the breath rushed from his lungs. She had on the dress he’d bought her from Susie’s, the one Mr. Lee had mentioned Myka admiring. When he’d slipped in the house earlier and left it on the end of her bed, he wasn’t sure if she’d accept the gift or not. He was more than pleased that she had as he eyed her slowly from head to toe and back.

The dark red fabric trimmed in black around the collar, sleeves, and flared skirt laid against her dark skin, enhancing its golden hue. The wide black belt made her already tiny waist appear even smaller.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

His cock, however, was not into subtlety, and swelled against his jeans.

She looked down, the forward tip of her head freeing a few wavy strands of black hair from the clip holding it up to fall softly around her face. Her fingers fluttered over the fabric before she looked back up at him and smiled.

“Thank you, Galen. It’s absolutely gorgeous.”

“Yes. It is.” But he made it clear with his hot stare that he was not talking about the dress. “If you only knew how badly I wanted to kiss you right now,” he growled.

“What’s stopping you?” She raised a brow and sucked in a sharp breath.

He shook his head. “If I kiss you, there will be no dinner, no talking, no anything because I won’t be able to stop at just a kiss.”

“I’m not sure I see the problem with that.”

“Too tempting, Myka.” His body was so hot he thought he might go off like an A-bomb at any moment.

“I guess we better get cooking then. Um, I mean dinner.” She giggled nervously.

He bent and kissed her on the cheek and breathed her sweet scent deep into his lungs. She stepped aside and shut the door after he walked through to the kitchen.

* * *

Earlier, Myka had been a bit overwhelmed when she found the dress she’d been eyeing at Susie’s for the past several months in a box on the end of her bed. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had given her such a thoughtful gift. However, the gift did raise a few questions in her mind as well. She’d initially thought Galen to be a drifter. Most of the drifters she’d met flitted from job to job, only staying until boredom set in. And while she didn’t like to label people, none of the drifters she’d met had much money. The dress was not cheap.

She’d promptly chastised herself and her overcurious mind before it traveled on to bigger and more creative things to explain why Galen had the means to buy such a frivolous item that wasn’t a necessity. He was obviously not a drinker, as were a lot of drifters, but that was labeling again. Just because the ones she’d come across had liked their alcohol, it didn’t mean they all did. In the end, she’d felt bad about scrutinizing his gift in such a way.

It had been a sweet, unselfish, kind gesture, and she decided to take it for what it was. He’d wanted to do something nice for her. She figured the only reason she’d thought it a bit strange in the first place was because she’d never gotten a gift from a man other than her father—years ago—and Travis. That made the dress a gift she’d never forget, one she’d cherish forever, as the man she loved had given it to her.

As Galen walked by her into the kitchen, butterflies danced in her stomach. He looked extra mouthwateringly good tonight. Hell. Who was she trying to fool? He’d look mouthwatering in a burlap sack. She hadn’t seen a pair of jeans that didn’t like him yet. Every single pair he owned fit him like a glove and showed off his lean hips and strong thighs. Not to mention his perfect ass. She swallowed hard. Damn. She needed to stop drooling over him every time she saw him, and keep the bigger picture in mind. Galen would leave, and she needed to stay focused on taking care of Patrick.

“I thought we could make some spaghetti?”

“Mmm. One of my favorites,” Galen replied.

She got all of the ingredients out for the sauce, and they started working together to prepare the onion, tomato, and mushrooms.

“Tell me about your childhood, Myka. Was it happy?” he asked while chopping some onion.

“Yes. Travis was my only sibling. My mother and father were wonderful, loving parents. They had a knack for allowing us to find our own way in life while providing guidance and discipline where needed. I was curious about everything, especially reading. I love to read. Travis, on the other hand, seemed to attract trouble. He wasn’t a bad kid in any way, but continually found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Tell me about him,” Galen encouraged.

“He was five years older than me. He always watched out for me. Took care of me. Protected me like any good brother would. But I can’t say I’ve ever known anyone as accident-prone. By the time I was ten, he’d broken his arm, leg, nose, several ribs, and had had many other injuries due to mishaps. Nothing he really ever caused. Just bad luck, I guess. We all laughed and told him he was cursed. We even had a name for the curse: the Travisty.” She laughed and then swallowed hard.

“I thought he’d finally outgrown it a few years after he’d graduated high school. It caught back up to him six months ago. He worked his way up from the line to manager in a manufacturing plant. The workers loved him. He took care of them. Listened to any complaints they might have and tried to find amicable solutions. Treated them like family. One day there was a problem with one of the machines. He went down to help. It was shut off, every safety precaution had been taken, but somehow there was an electrical surge. The machine turned on. It took his arm off, and he bled to death. It was a freak accident.”

“I’m sorry, Myka.”

“Thank you. As the days roll by, I learn to cope with it a little better, but there are still days when I wake up and expect a phone call from Travis. And poor Patrick. Travis loved him something fierce. They were close. After Patrick’s mother left when he was a baby, Travis stepped up, and Patrick became his whole universe. It was hard for Travis at first. Trisha was the love of his life, and Patrick resembles her.”

“You’ve been good to Patrick. Not many aunts would take a nephew in like you did and care for him as their own.”

“I guess you are right. He’s come long way. Betty has worked wonders with him. I am thankful every day that she came into our lives.”

“Life has mysterious ways of providing what you need.”

“Yes. It does, doesn’t it? To make a long story short about my childhood, anyway, I had planned to go to college, but once Travis moved to Malta, I moved out here to be closer to him. Mom and Dad were both gone by then. Mom to cancer and Dad to a heart attack. Travis was the only family I had left. I immediately fell in love with this place when I found it. It’s been hard at times, but I’m happy here.”

Galen smiled.

“Enough about me, though. Tell me about your childhood.” She didn’t miss the way he stiffened. “Should I not have asked?” she said before putting the rest of the veggies he’d cut into the sauce and stirring it.

“My childhood was a long time ago.”

She laughed. “You make it sound like you are an old man. What are you, thirty-four? Thirty-five?”

“Something like that,” he snorted.

“Ah. A man prickly about his age. I thought women were usually the ones who were secretive about those kinds of things.”

“Uh-huh. My childhood was . . . different. You could say I lived in another time. I didn’t have loving parents. They were good people, don’t get me wrong, but my pack, um, family had different views on things. I wasn’t neglected or abused, but I had to grow up faster than most. By the time I was Patrick’s age, I was hunting for food. I didn’t go to school. But later, when I was on my own, I took it upon myself to get an education. I never went to college, but I was good with money. I spent a lot of time working with charities. The bad thing about working with money and those who have a lot of it is you start seeing the selfish, greedy side of people. Greed like you never thought possible. Greed that is unbelievable. After a while, I backed away from everything and kept to myself.”

“I’ve never had money, Galen, but I can see how money has the power to corrupt.”

“You have no idea, and I hope you never do. Anyway, let’s say that since taking a closer look at people and their twisted values, I’ve traveled from place to place experiencing the world.”

“That’s amazing. I would like to travel one day.” She sighed.

“Maybe you can.”

“I don’t know. Maybe someday.” She handed him a pot to fill with water for the noodles.

He filled the pot halfway with water from the tap, sat it on the stove, and she turned on the burner. After stirring the sauce again, she placed the noodles in the water.

While Galen didn’t particularly seem unhappy, or say he’d had a bad life, she felt sad for him. Had he always been by himself? Did he have friends? People who cared?

“Do you have any family now, Galen?”

“Kind of, but that’s a subject best left for later.”

Which meant he didn’t want to talk about it. She took the hint and left the subject alone for now.

“The sauce is smelling good.” She stirred the bubbling, thick sauce and let the rich aroma assault her nose with its wonderful flavor.

“It’s not the only thing smelling good,” he whispered.

She startled. He was behind her, and was sniffing her hair.

“How do you do that?” She put the lid back on the sauce, turned around, and scooted sideways so she didn’t end up burning her back on the stove when she leaned against the counter.

“Do what?”

“How does someone your size move around like you do?”

He raised a brow, and she snorted.

“You’re huge, and you don’t make a freaking sound when you walk. I didn’t even hear you come up behind me.” She frowned.

“I’m light on my feet.”

She shook her head. “No. It’s more than that. Maybe you were trained in the military or something?”

“No. No military. I don’t like to fight.”

She moved closer, sizing him up. “I believe that, but I bet you wouldn’t back down if push came to shove either.”

He pulled in a deep breath and stiffened.

“There’s something about you, Galen. Can’t quite put my finger on it, but from the first day I met you, you’ve had a way of communicating with your body. You aren’t like anyone else I’ve ever met. Your moves are deliberate. They almost have a stalking aura to them—although, I’m not sure that’s the right word to describe it. I don’t mean creepy stalking, just . . . I don’t know.” She shrugged.

“Do I scare you?”

She might have laughed, told him he could scare the Jolly Green Giant, if sincere worry wasn’t etched across his face.

“No. Not even when we first met. Which, come to think of it, I should have been intimidated as hell by your size alone. And I can’t explain that one either. Because honestly? I’m out here alone with Patrick, and I should have been more cautious with you, if not flat-out scared. My instincts have told me all along that you would never hurt me or Patrick. Maybe I shouldn’t put that much faith into my instincts, but they’ve never failed me before.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he pulled in a deep, slow breath. “The last thing I’d ever want to do is scare you. And you are right. I would never hurt you or Patrick. Not if my life depended on it.”

* * *

And yet that’s exactly what he was going to do. Scare the hell out of her. Galen had no doubt that Myka could handle just about anything she was faced with, but when he told her what he was? He wasn’t exactly sure how that would go. Would she believe him? Probably not . . . at first. But he’d make sure she knew exactly what she might potentially have to deal with before he left.

And he had to leave. Tonight. His skin itched, which was a sure sign trouble was on the way. He had to lead the danger away from Myka and Patrick. But he refused to leave her in the dark and stranded. Chances were that she would not need to know what he was or the danger she could possibly face. Chances were he’d lead the pursuit away from her and she’d never be the wiser. But he was not a gambling man, nor did he depend on chance.

She was his mate, and he had no choice but to give her the tools to protect herself. She was strong. She’d take what he told her tonight and use it if necessary. She’d deal with it because she was a survivor. But his gut clenched in dread.

After learning what he was, would she look at him the same, or would her eyes fall on him in disgust? Either way, it couldn’t be helped. Every lycan who found his mate ran the risk of his destined mate not accepting what he was. He put faith in fate where that was concerned. Surely fate would not pair any of his species with someone who was not strong enough to deal with the circumstances.

“What’s wrong, Galen?”

“Nothing. Let’s enjoy dinner. We can talk after.”

He was being selfish. He should leave now, but he wanted to spend every second he could with her. When he left, he may never see her again. The thought sent an ache through his chest that exploded outward through his body, nearly dropping him to his knees. Anger quickly sliced through the fear. This shit was going to stop. He would either resolve the problem or die trying. One way or the other, it would stop. He couldn’t go on living knowing Myka was here unprotected while he traipsed all over God’s green earth avoiding his pursuers.

He hadn’t asked to be backed into the corner he was now in, and he was about to come out swinging. She was his, damn it. And he was going to do whatever it took to keep her.

A half hour later, they sat at the table eating dinner. Myka had been quiet since she’d asked him what was wrong. She was smart. She was aware something was bothering him, although could have no idea the mammoth proportion of what that something was. The food was good, but he could barely get it down knowing what was coming.

“Galen?” She reached over and covered his hand. “What is it?”

The concern that marred her beautiful face made his heart thump. She cared about him. Joy sang through his veins, but it was quickly doused by dread. He put his fork down.

“Do you not like the spaghetti?”

“It’s amazing, as is everything you cook. It’s not that.”

“Tell me.”

He turned his hand over and linked his fingers with hers, then stood and gently tugged at her. “Walk with me.”

“O-Okay.” She frowned.

She slipped off her flats by the door and stepped into some boots before he draped her jacket over her shoulders.

“Where’s your jacket?”

“Don’t need one.”

“But it’s cold,” she said.

He cupped her cheek. “I’m okay. I promise. If I get cold, I’ll get something warmer from my room.”

He opened the door, followed her out, and reached for her hand again as they walked together toward the barn. Once inside, she shrugged the jacket off and went to the stalls, where the horses were still happily munching on hay.

“You have a wonderful place, Myka.”

She smiled as she rubbed Chloe’s nose. “It’s not much, but there is something about it that calls to you, isn’t there?”

He nodded.

“Tell me what’s bothering you.” She turned toward him.

“Kiss me first?” He closed the space between them, cupped her face, and waited.

“I couldn’t possibly deny a request like that,” she said quietly.

He bent to take her lips, and need shot through him like a raging forest fire that couldn’t be stopped. She leaned closer, and he slipped his tongue inside her mouth when she sighed. She tasted like heaven. When she was near, when he touched her, the darkest parts of his soul were bathed in the warmth of her light. She was everything to him. Everything he needed. She would forever remain a part of him until he drew his last breath, and even then he vowed to stay with her.

She reached for his shoulders, and he picked her up without breaking the kiss. She gasped into his mouth, but he refused to break the contact just yet, craving more of her. He stepped forward until her back met a thick support post, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. When she rubbed against his hard cock, he groaned. Her heat scorched him, and he wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes from their bodies and finally bury himself inside her where he belonged.

She clutched at his shoulders as he claimed her mouth. Her short nails dug into his skin through the fabric of his shirt and encouraged him on. Her small tongue tangled with his own and wrenched a growl from his throat. Her breathing grew in frantic gasps as he ran his fingers along her ribs and up over one breast, where he kneaded the nipple into a stiff peak through the dress. He wedged his hips tighter into the vee of her thighs and held her against the post, while with his other hand he reached behind him to skim along the smooth line of her calf, over her knee, then up to her creamy thigh.

He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against hers. The blue-violet color of her passion-glazed eyes deepened with need.

“I want you, Myka,” he growled. “Have from the moment I first laid eyes on you.”

“Take me, Galen,” she moaned when his fingers skimmed further up her thigh, slipped between their bodies and over her mound.

Chapter Ten

Myka reached for the front of Galen’s jeans. She was out of her mind with wanting him. She craved him, couldn’t wait to feel the slide of his hard cock as it disappeared inside her. His hazel eyes glowed bright down at her, and once again, instead of questioning why they shimmered, her need for him overrode all logic.

His long fingers stroked her through her panties, and she fought the unadulterated wave of pure pleasure that threatened to render her unconscious. Her fingers trembled as she struggled with the buttons on his jeans before they finally gave way. He sprang free, hot and hard, into her hand, and they both groaned. He’d been right when he said he didn’t need a jacket because he was like a walking furnace, and she was about to go up in flames.

“Please, Galen. I need you inside me now.”

He turned, unexpectedly, and she was falling back. Before she had time to be startled, she landed on a soft pile of fresh hay. Galen tumbled down with her, and suddenly her legs were up over his shoulders, her panties were ripped away, and his wicked tongue was teasing her clit. Once, twice he glided over the bundle of nerves before dipping deep inside her.

She clutched the hay in her hands, and thrashed her head from side to side, as her breathing grew more ragged with each stroke of his tongue. When he eased two long fingers inside her, she cried out as the tension and pressure in her body threatened to explode outward. He relentlessly fucked her with those beautiful fingers while his tongue teased her to the edge over and over, refusing to let her tumble into the free fall awaiting. She was a puppet, and he knew exactly what strings to pull.

“Please, Galen!” she sobbed as her impending orgasm repeatedly intensified and receded, growing stronger each time.

“Come for me, angel.” The low rumbling of his words vibrated against her clit.

“I want you inside me! Please!”

But it wasn’t meant to be because one more wicked stroke of that tongue and deep slide of those clever fingers pushed her into that free fall she’d been barreling toward. Her orgasm ripped through her, and she screamed as every muscle in her body clenched and unclenched wave after wave. She sobbed as he continued to coax every last spasm, every last ripple from her with his mouth. When the waves finally died down to a sporadic body-racking shiver here and there, he gave her one last lick before pulling her into his arms.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

“You have no idea how much I want you, but I can’t. Not until we talk.” He nuzzled her hair, kissed her head, and breathed deeply.

“Then talk, because I want to make love with you.” She sat up and turned to face him.

He sighed before sitting up, and she blushed when he tucked himself back into his jeans. He was still hard, and had trouble buttoning the buttons. Served him right, she thought, but instantly felt guilty thinking that. He didn’t want to be with her until he confessed this big secret of his. He was obviously trying to be a gentleman. Or was he?

God, she was confused right now. She had no idea why Galen wouldn’t make love to her, but it definitely had something to do with whatever he needed to tell her. What could be bad enough that he couldn’t make love to her before confiding in her? She refused to speculate on it all night.

She stood, and nearly fell over before getting her jelly-like legs under control. “Tell me.”

He got up and held his hand out in invitation. When she hesitantly took it, he led her outside to the bench in front of the barn. She plopped down before he slowly sank to the seat beside her.

“There are things about me you need to know, but I’m not sure how to tell you this.”

“We’ve all done stupid things in our lives. We all make mistakes. I won’t think any less of you. Unless, of course, you’re a serial killer or something.” She giggled nervously. When he didn’t answer, her stomach clenched in one big knot. “Oh my God! You aren’t, are you?”

“No. I’m not a serial killer.” He chuckled. “You are safe with me.”

“Whatever you have to tell me, I promise I won’t go running off like some terrified dumb blonde in a bad horror flick.”

“You sure about that?” When he turned to face her, his eyes were glowing once again.

“Why do they do that? Your eyes? Why do they glow? How is that even possible?”

“I was wondering when you would ask.”

“All the other times, I was a bit preoccupied.”

“I’m not like you. I’m different.” He frowned.

“We are all different. That’s how it is.”

“No. I’m really different. Damn it. I don’t want to frighten you, but I have to tell you for your own protection.”

She was getting scared, and truthfully, the thought of running off like the dumb blonde in the horror flick was beginning to look appealing. Stop it. Whatever it was it couldn’t be that terrible. Lots of people who thought they had big, bad secrets who were afraid to tell anyone for fear of being rejected or ridiculed, found out that whatever it was was not so bad after finally saying it out loud. Maybe Galen was simply turning a molehill into a mountain. Although he didn’t strike her as the overdramatic type.

She fidgeted with her dress. Suddenly her previously dampened instincts—probably due to the overwhelming orgasm she’d had—kicked in hard. The knot in her stomach grew tighter, and she had to fight to keep her breathing calm to avoid hyperventilating. Dread descended upon her in the form of an invisible black cloak that draped over her entire body. She fought the need to run, somehow sensing running would be the worst thing she could do.

He was watching her with those mesmerizing eyes as if he could read every emotion, every thought going through her brain. Her muscles tensed as her body prepared itself for a quick getaway. But why? Galen would not hurt her. That had not changed. Maybe not physically, but what he’s about to tell me will change me forever.

She stood, walked to a section of the wooden pasture fence only a few feet from the barn, and leaned against it before doing something ridiculous like breaking out in a fit of hysterical laughter. He came up beside her and leaned his arms on the top rail. She had to settle for the middle rail with her shorter frame.

“It’s quiet out tonight. I don’t hear crickets or anything,” she said, trying to distract herself from the foreboding thoughts assaulting her.

Suddenly he froze. He was so close she felt his muscles tense. He stood straight and gripped the top rail before cocking his head to the side and staring into the darkness of the tree line yards away. He sniffed at the air, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.

“Myka, I want you to slowly turn from me and go to the house. Lock the doors and windows, turn out all of the lights, and find a place to hide.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?” She backed away from him slowly.

He turned to her, and she nearly tripped over her own feet. His eyes shined brighter than she’d ever seen, and pointy teeth peeked from below his top lip. His fingernails appeared to have grown longer as well. No. No! I’m imagining things. I’ve gotten so worked up over, over. . . whatever, that I’m seeing things that aren’t there.

He grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a not-so-gentle shake.

“Snap out of it,” he snarled.

She winced. The teeth were definitely real. “What the fuck is going on?” She rarely cussed, but this was the perfect time for it if there ever was one.

“Listen to me!” he said in a low, commanding voice. “Do what I said. Go inside. Lock the doors and windows. Turn off all of the lights, find a hiding place, and don’t make a sound.”

She turned to do what he said because was it really worth arguing with him at this point? He obviously thought something was wrong, and her warning bells were clanging like Sunday church bells as well. The shit-was-about-to-go-down fog in the air was so thick it nearly choked her, and she was pretty certain she didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it. She gasped when he grabbed her shoulder and spun her back around to face him.

“Iron. That is our only weakness. Find something with iron in it. If you are found, use it. It may save your life.”

“Your only weakness? What the hell are you talking about?” She scrambled backward toward the house when he released her.

“Lycan, Myka. I’m a Lycan. More are coming.”

Her brain screamed that it wasn’t possible, but her feet didn’t care to argue or listen to reason as she ran toward the house full speed, not caring that he’d told her to go slow. She reached the front door, slammed it shut behind her, and locked it. She hurriedly checked the windows in each room before shutting the lights off and bolting the back door.

Iron? Where was she going to get iron? She hurried to the fireplace and grabbed one of the antique pokers before running down the hallway to the bathroom. She locked the door and climbed into the tub before pulling the shower curtain closed. It was probably one of the first places someone would look, but she didn’t have many options in the old farmhouse.

The closets were all overstuffed, and the attic floor needed to be replaced in several spots, which made it dangerous under the best circumstances. The cellar was out since the only access was outside, not to mention she wasn’t sure how she’d fair cramped in the dank, dark space with all the creepy crawlies that normally resided there. At least the bathroom had a window, which served as a possible escape route. She cautiously peered outside toward the pasture.

Her breath immediately lodged in her throat, where it felt as if it would be stuck forever. Even though it was dark out, the sky was clear, and the moon and stars lit up the night with a soft glow. Running out of the tree line, across the pasture, toward Galen were three of the biggest wolves she’d ever laid eyes upon. Before she had time to process what she was seeing, she focused on Galen. When he glanced toward the house, she had to stifle a scream as his fingers contorted into claws He raised his head, and the pointy teeth she’d glimpsed peeking from under his top lip became long, thick canines.

Lycan? As in werewolves? Oh my God. I’m going to die here tonight. When Galen, or whatever the hell he was, ran into the barn, she slid down into the tub, clutching the iron poker to her chest. She began hyperventilating and fought back the need to heave. At least Patrick wasn’t here. But her heart dropped when she thought of the little boy having to cope with yet another loss.

* * *

Anger clawed at Galen’s insides. They’d found him, and now his selfishness had put his mate in danger. He’d led them right to Myka. Now there was no choice left. He’d have to kill his own kind to keep the woman he loved safe. A new wave of anger ripped through him with a shuddering force. He hadn’t had time to ease Myka into the idea of what he was. He hadn’t had the chance to comfort her, to prove to her that he wasn’t a monster. Now she was alone and probably scared out of her mind. She’d never forgive him, and he couldn’t really blame her.

He unlatched the locks on the horses’ stalls and let them out. The strong smell of the wolves, and upcoming fight, would frighten them. He didn’t want to take a chance of them injuring themselves in a confined place. After they all ran from the barn, he walked back to the yard, where the wind picked up as if anxious to participate in the impending battle.

The long claws that had sprung from his fingertips itched, along with the four-inch fangs protruding from his mouth. Only ancients could partially change, and he preferred to fight this way. He’d counted four wolves running from the tree line before he’d entered the barn, but now only three surrounded him. He’d have to watch his back for the ambush that was sure to follow.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, boys. You should have left me alone. I didn’t do anything to any of you,” Galen said calmly, hoping to finally talk some sense into the relentless fuckers.

Suddenly the brown wolf in the middle shifted to human form. The muscled, dark-haired man stood several feet away with his glowing eyes trained on Galen, as if waiting for him to make any threatening move.

“Raping and torturing potential mates is definitely doing something to us. It is unacceptable,” he said with a low voice.

“I agree.” Galen glanced over his shoulder, still waiting for the missing wolf to attack. “What does that have to do with me?”

“We have reason to believe that you’ve committed these acts. Since you are an ancient, you are aware that that crime is punishable by death.” Claws shot from the fingertips of the man’s hands.

“Since you are an ancient,” Galen growled, “you are aware that it is highly unusual for one to commit such heinous acts on potential mates, or any human for that matter. You have the wrong man.”

“Why did you run then?”

“Because I don’t answer to anyone. Especially for things I did not do. Last I checked, we didn’t have a ruler. I’m not under anyone’s command. Therefore, you have no right to hunt me.”

“We have the right to hunt anyone who we believe harms potential mates.”

“As I’ve said, you’re barking up the wrong tree here. Leave, and we’ll call this a misunderstanding. A six-month-long pain-in-the-ass misunderstanding.”

The man shook his head.

Galen didn’t figure it would be as easy as that. “I’m at a disadvantage. Seems you know a lot about me, yet I know nothing about you.”

“My name is Brent Falls. I run Sanctuary along with several others in Michigan.”

“I’ve heard of Sanctuary.” That solidified any doubt he may have had about who was responsible for this mess. Terrance was going to die when he got a hold of him. “Well, Brent, as I’ve said, you have wasted a lot of time and manpower chasing after something that isn’t there. I would appreciate it if you would leave me and cease your chase now.”

“Can’t do that.” Brent sniffed the air.

Galen’s blood ran cold.

“You keeping her hostage?” Brent snarled.

Galen growled low in warning. “Do not think to touch her. If you do, I promise I will do my best to kill you all.”

“Bring her out so we can see that she is unharmed,” Brent said.

“No offense, but I don’t know you or any of your little buddies. I’m not risking her.”

“We aren’t leaving until this is settled.”

“Then I guess it’s going to get bloody, because as far as I’m concerned, it’s settled now,” Galen answered.

Suddenly, the attack came from behind as he’d expected. He twisted, but was a millisecond too slow, and the big wolf knocked him to the ground. He leapt up into a crouch and knocked the wolf sideways when it made another go at him. That’s when things got real nasty.

Brent partially shifted and rushed him with the other two wolves hot on his heels. Galen twisted from his grasp, but was unable to fully recover before one of the other wolves slammed into him from the side. Galen went down hard on his hands and knees, and before he could recover, he was jumped from every direction.

Galen punched, tore, and bit at his attackers. Fur flew, blood spattered, and grunts—a lot of his own—rent the calm night for what seemed like hours. Although, in reality, it had been only a few minutes since the fight ensued, Galen’s body began to tire. He was holding his own, but he was heavily outnumbered. If there had been even one fewer of them, he’d have a shot, but he was determined to give them as good as he got. He wouldn’t go down without ripping a few chunks of ass to take as a souvenir.

Galen’s ribs were battered until he thought every last one had to be cracked, and it was getting hard for him to breathe. Finally, he was thrown to the ground facedown. A knee was planted firmly in the middle of his back, and his arms were wrenched behind him. Fury beat at him, and he waited for the last bit of adrenaline he had left to rush him.

“I didn’t want it to go down this way. You are an asset to our species, Galen. Can’t you see that we need to confirm that she is okay and ask you some questions to clear this up?”

Galen hoped Brent’s ragged breaths meant that he was in as much pain as he was. “The only thing I can see is that you’ve been chasing me for some fucked-up bullshit lies that I’m assuming some little asshole named Terrance told you to get back at me. I don’t know any of you. She’s my mate. I’m not exposing her to the people who have been chasing me for no reason for six months. If you’ll go to those lengths over something some idiot rogue pup told you—one I sent to you, no less—what else might you do?” He spat the last words out with as much venom as he could muster without wasting the building adrenaline.

“She’s your mate?” Brent murmured. “Of course. That makes sense why all of a sudden you would stand up to us after all of these months. We won’t hurt her. To tell you the truth, I suspected Terrance was full of shit pretty much from the beginning, but you have to understand my point of view. Even if there was a tiny chance he was telling the truth, I had no choice but to track you down and deal with it.”

“No. You did have a choice. You knew from the start I was an ancient. You knew the odds were stacked well against what Terrance was saying about me. You are not the fucking law, Brent. Neither is Sanctuary. You overstepped your bounds this time. You had no solid proof to do what you did to me,” Galen said vehemently. “I am not exposing my mate to you. I was in the process of explaining what I was when you interrupted. She’s probably scared to death, and I am not scaring her even more by subjecting her to you assholes. So tell me. Is this going to end in bloodshed and death, or will you admit you made a mistake and walk away?”

“Can we at least talk?” Brent asked.

Galen spit some blood out onto the ground. “Aren’t we a little past talking?” he said sarcastically.

“Please. Let’s clear this mess up once and for all.” Brent’s tone sounded sincere.

Galen gritted his teeth. He didn’t owe these fuckers anything, but if he could end this shit here and now by talking to them, he would. He’d do it to keep Myka safe. He’d do it for the chance of being able to stay with her and Patrick without the constant threat of looming danger.

“Fine. But know that I’m doing this for her. If I hadn’t met my mate, shit would be going down real different right about now. You planning on letting me up for this little chat?”

“Give me your word you won’t run?” Brent said.

Galen laughed. “Seriously? And I say I promise and you just let me up?”

“Pretty much,” Brent said. “Besides, I think we’ve all had enough of beating the shit out of one another for the night, don’t you?”

“Your choice. Not mine.” When Brent sighed heavily, Galen gave in. “I won’t run. Now let me the fuck up because I’m going to be completely honest and let you know that my last bit of adrenaline is almost charged and ready to go.”

Surprisingly, Brent immediately let him go. Although Galen wasn’t doing a very good job of getting up. He rolled around for a second or two before he found a way to get off the dirt without screaming in protest of his broken body. Blood oozed from more than one place through his ripped shirt and jeans. As soon as he had enough strength back, he’d shift and heal himself. Come on, fucking adrenaline.

“You and your boys get dressed and meet me in the barn. We’ll have a nice little chat, and you can all be on your way,” Galen said as he limped to the barn. He smirked in satisfaction when he saw the others weren’t in much better shape than he was.

Brent looked over his shoulder. “Lorent? Can you please retrieve our clothing and bring it to the barn?”

The big gray wolf to Brent’s left turned and loped toward the tree line. The remaining two wolves shifted into human form. One had golden blond hair and was about the same size as Brent, and the other had pale blond hair and was nearly the size of Galen.

Galen let his fangs and claws recede only moments before Brent and the other three men came inside. All now had jeans and T-shirts on, but no shoes. Unlike his, their clothes weren’t shredded.

“This is Raze.” Brent pointed to the darker blond. “That’s Knox.” He pointed to the big motherfucker. “And that’s Lorent.” He jerked his head toward the black-haired and youngest-looking one amongst them who’d gone to retrieve their clothes.

Galen sighed and rotated his shoulders, trying to get the bunched muscles to relax, but he only accomplished making his ribs scream in agony.

“Can we get this shit over with? No offense, but I’m really sick of every one of you bastards. Actually, take all of the offense you want,” Galen said through gritted teeth.

“Six months ago, Terrance showed up at Sanctuary beat to hell so bad he couldn’t shift. He was weak and crawled up to my door before passing out. After a couple of days, he was strong enough to shift and heal. He told us you were responsible. That you’d tried to kill him because he caught you raping and torturing a potential mate. Said you enjoyed it, had done it for years. Told him if he didn’t join you, you’d kill him.”

“Really? And it didn’t strike you odd that a rogue was telling this story? Or that an ancient couldn’t finish the job of killing off an inexperienced pup?”

“I doubted his story pretty much from the start. He said he was lucky, that you were distracted, and he made a run for it before you could finish killing him. We had no choice but to follow up. There’s never been a time when an ancient was known to go rogue,” Brent said.

“Exactly. So why would I?” Galen asked.

“You have to understand that while it was unlikely, if there was even a slight chance it was true, we couldn’t ignore it. You do understand the huge ramifications a rogue ancient could have? The possibilities are endless, from recruiting other rogues to waging an all-out war. Our species is already in danger of dying out.”

“We didn’t have a choice,” Knox said.

“I suppose, but this shit ends tonight. I’m no threat to any potential mate. I’m no threat to anyone unless cornered. I think I’ve more than proved that over the last six months. I’m the one who sent Terrance to you. He was the one torturing women. If he had reached the rape part, he would have never gotten to you alive. I guarantee it. I made it very clear to him that if he didn’t make it to Sanctuary, I would personally take care of him myself. It was too coincidental that you guys were on my ass so soon after I sent him. He better hope I never get my hands on him,” Galen muttered.

“Good thing we left him in the woods.” Lorent chuckled.

A cold foreboding slid through Galen at Lorent’s words and immediately numbed him to the pain he had been feeling only a second before. “You brought him with you? He is here now? He is within reach of my mate?” Galen snarled.

“Take it easy. He’s a safe distance,” Brent tried to assure him.

Suddenly an eerie quiet settled over the place, and a scent hit Galen so hard it felt as if he’d been sucker-punched. Terrance wasn’t a safe distance away. Terrance was here. Galen walked to Brent and stood toe-to-toe with the man.

“If he hurts Myka, I will hold you personally responsible.”

Before he could get another word out, a high-pitched scream tore through the still night.

Chapter Eleven

“Well, well, well. What have we here?”

Myka froze. She should have stayed in the bathroom, but she’d been trying to get to the phone. She’d desperately wanted to call Patrick and talk to him in case something happened to her. She had at least wanted to tell him that she loved him.

She turned slowly, keeping the iron poker concealed behind her leg. She was petrified beyond explanation, but her survival instinct was strong and hard at work probing her brain for solutions on how to get away from the threat she now faced.

Where was Galen? Had the wolves hurt him? Was he dead? She ignored the pain that sliced through her chest. He was not dead. She, on the other hand, could very well end up that way if she didn’t keep her head on straight. She edged toward the kitchen door slowly. Luckily, her intruder wasn’t between her and the door. She fought every urge to run for it. Something told her that would be the biggest mistake she could ever make. She remembered Galen telling her to walk slowly to the house before the wolves had appeared.

He’d sensed the danger before she had. Earlier, she’d disobeyed Galen and had run like hell to the house. This time, the threat was a whole lot closer. This time, she needed to heed Galen’s warning about going slow. The man standing in front of her had the same edge to him that Galen carried, only less refined. This man’s edge was feral, dominating, intruding . . . scary as shit.

He was a predator, and didn’t predators love it when their prey was scared? When their prey ran? Her heart pounded, pumping fresh adrenaline through her veins with each thump. This could not be happening. Werewolves? Men turning into monsters? None of this could be real. Yet she’d seen it with her own eyes.

“Such a pretty little thing,” the intruder said. He took a step closer and sniffed at the air. “Mmm. And you smell so fucking good too. Made for us you were.”

“I wasn’t made for anyone. Get out of my house, please,” she said softly.

He laughed. “I don’t think so. I think you are my ticket out of here, sweetheart.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean that if I save you, those angry lycans out there have to believe my story about Galen. Then they’ll kill him.”

“What story?” She desperately wanted to keep him talking. If he was talking, he was keeping a distance. If he was talking, she could continue edging toward the door. If he was talking, he would be distracted, and she might have a chance to escape.

He was big. Not as big as Galen, but big. And he was completely naked. Funny how she hadn’t noticed that until now. She’d been too focused on a plan of escape. Why in the hell was he naked? Several reasons flooded her mind and scared her even more, if that was even possible.

“Enough!” he snarled.

He was on her before she could react. She screamed, tried to break the hold he had on her arm—the one holding the now-useless fire poker. He was ridiculously strong, and her struggles were futile. He dragged her toward the front door.

When they entered the yard, they were suddenly surrounded by five men. One of them was Galen. Her eyes widened when she saw that he was black and blue and covered in blood and dirt from head to toe.

“Let her go, Terrance,” Galen growled.

“Looks like you got a good start on him.” Terrance eyed Galen’s wounds. “Why haven’t you killed him?” he asked the dark-haired man. “He had her locked up in the house. She’s a potential mate. Galen was using her.”

“No! He was not!” Myka protested. “He never hurt me.”

“Shut up!” Terrance screamed. “She doesn’t know what she’s saying. She’s been traumatized.”

“We all know you’ve been lying this whole time. Pretty much figured it out from the start. However, we had an obligation to investigate what you said before taking action.”

“Brent, man. You saw how beat to hell I was when I arrived at Sanctuary. It’s because I caught him raping that woman.”

“I would never rape a woman. I would never hurt any woman.” Galen spit the words at Terrance. “And I beat your ass because that’s exactly what you were attempting to do. Had you accomplished the act, you wouldn’t be standing here today. Do you think an ancient couldn’t finish the job of killing a young pup like you? And how was it that you were beaten so badly you couldn’t change to heal, yet you could make the two-day trip to Sanctuary? You are the biggest idiot in the world.”

“No! I was too weak to shift.” Terrance pounded his palm against his forehead several times. “No!”

“Let her go,” Galen said again.

Terrance laughed. The sound sent chills down Myka’s spine. “Why? So you can kill me? I don’t think so.”

“I will kill you whether you let her go or not. Your life is at its end, and you have no one to blame but yourself. You put your hands on my mate,” Galen said menacingly.

She gasped when long claws slightly curled from his fingertips, fangs grew from his mouth, and his eyes glowed bright. Her brain could barely process that what she was seeing was real. Then his words whispered through her brain. She was Galen’s mate? What the hell did that mean?

“No,” Brent said quietly. “You still haven’t hurt anyone. If you let her go, you can come back to Sanctuary with us. You can be reformed. It’s your only option other than death.”

“I’m not going back to that ridiculous place!” Terrance yelled in fury. “You are not my master. I don’t serve you. I don’t live by your rules. I’m free. I’m a predator. I can do whatever I like when I like.”

“Not if it includes hurting people,” the black-haired man said. “I used to be a rogue, Terrance. I’ve seen horrible things. It isn’t right. There is so much more out there than violence. I’ve reformed. You can too. We need you. Our race is dying out.”

“No! Now get away from me, or I’ll kill her!”

When Terrance adjusted his hold on her, Myka’s instincts took over. She stomped down on his foot, and when he yelped, she spun and drove the fire poker into his thigh. But when she turned to run, his hand shot out, and fingers curled into her hair. Tears sprang to her eyes when she slammed backward onto the hard ground with such force the wind was knocked from her lungs.

Her vision blurred, and she could hear Galen’s scream of fury. When she struggled to sit up, teeth clamped hard over her shoulder. She cried out as the razor-sharp points pierced her skin and muscle. The burn of the bite seared through her, and she felt nauseous. But as quickly as the pain had started, she was freed, and the sounds of Terrance’s screams grew fainter and fainter as he was dragged away.

“Myka? Angel? Are you okay?”

Galen’s voice penetrated her foggy mind, and she looked up into his beautiful face. Tears freely ran down his cheeks, and she was sure she’d never seen anything more beautiful than this glorious man weeping. But then it hit her. What could possibly make Galen cry?

“Am I dying?” She must have blacked out for a moment because she had no recollection of Galen picking her up and cradling her against his big chest while he sat on the ground.

“You are not dying.”

He was warm and smelled good. And damned if he wasn’t completely naked now. How had that happened? She squinted to look at him closer. He was still dirty and had smears of blood on him, but she didn’t see any bruises or wounds. Had she been so distraught that she’d imagined his injuries? Imagined his torn clothing? She wanted to close her eyes and snuggle against him and forget about everything that had just happened. Forget about the nightmare she had just lived.

Nightmare. Yes. This had to be, but suddenly she remembered Galen’s fangs and claws. Had she imagined that too? No. A shiver ran down her spine. She hadn’t imagined any of it.

“You turned into a monster,” she whispered.

She struggled to get away from him, but he held her tightly as his body slightly shook.

“I’m sorry. I never meant for you to find out like this. I wanted to ease you into the idea.”

“Ease me into the idea! There is no easing anyone into the idea that werewolves exist. I can’t cope with this. I can’t do this.”

“You don’t have a choice in the matter now,” he whispered.

“What the hell does that mean?” She looked up at him again.

“You were bitten.”

“Yes. I was, and it hurt—still hurts like . . . Wait. Are you trying to tell me that I’m going to turn into a werewolf now?” She let out a hysterical shriek to keep from screaming because she knew if she started screaming, she may never stop.

He was silent, and the cold hand of dread tightened around her heart.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” she pleaded.

“I can’t. It should have been me that changed you.”

She pushed away from him, her shoulder screaming in agony at the movement. “No one should have changed me! I don’t want to be changed.”

“I would have never done so without your consent. This was forced upon you. This should never happen to anyone.”

“Is she going to be okay?” The voice came from behind them.

“Yes. I’ll make sure of it,” Galen answered.

“Anthony’s mate was turned the same way. Maybe she can help,” Brent said.

“No! No!” Myka struggled to her feet. “I want you both—all of you—off my land. Don’t ever come back. Just leave me the hell alone!”

How had this happened to her? She needed to go inside and climb into her nice warm bed. Her head pounded, her body ached, her shoulder was on fire, and she wanted this nightmare to be over. Surely if she went to sleep, she’d have a good laugh in the morning over the seriously fucked-up dream she’d just had. None of this could be real.

“I can’t leave you, Myka. I won’t let you go through this alone.” Galen stood slowly and took a step toward her.

She backed away from him, and he stopped. The pain that marred his beautiful face in obvious response to her rejection nearly sent her to her knees. The man she’d fallen in love with was not . . . She didn’t know what he was not, but she couldn’t be with him.

“I want you gone,” she said through clenched teeth as she turned and made her way toward the house.

After going inside, she locked the door. Yeah. A lot of good the locked doors and windows did earlier. She stumbled to the bathroom and started the shower. She winced as she peeled her now-ruined dress from her body. The fabric stuck to her shoulder, and she sobbed as she yanked it away from her skin. She stared down at the torn dress, and her chest ached. Maybe it was better this way. The dress that had meant so much to her earlier because it had come from Galen was beyond repair, just like her relationship with him.

After showering and washing the bite as best she could, she stood in front of the mirror, wrapped in a towel, trying to get up enough courage to look in the reflective glass that would make this nightmare all too real. Slowly she raised her eyes and stared at the punctures along her shoulder. She turned sideways and saw more on her back.

She was going to become a monster. Would she be a danger to Patrick? She began to cry. Her body shook with racking sobs that undulated through her. She couldn’t abandon Patrick. She loved him. He needed her. That was when she realized that no matter how much he’d hurt her, she needed Galen. He was the only one who could answer her question. Fear shot through her. She’d told him to leave. Was it too late? Had he already gone?

She ran to the front door, unlocked it, and jerked it open before running across the yard to the barn to find Galen standing by the stalls. His hair was damp, the dirt and blood were gone, and he had on jeans and a T-shirt.

“I got all of the horses back in their stalls.”

“I didn’t know they were gone.”

“Yes.”

“Galen, I, um—”

“I’m not leaving.”

“Oh.”

He gasped when he turned and looked at her. “You’re going to freeze out here. You only have on a towel.” He took a step closer, but stopped abruptly. He reached out toward her shoulder, but pulled his hand back before touching her.

“This changes everything.” She glanced down at the bite.

“I know.”

“I can’t be with you—not like we were—any longer, but I need you. You are the only one I can turn to who can help me through this.”

“Myka, I will never leave you. I love you. I will always love you. We were meant for one another, and whether you accept me or not, you are my mate, and I will protect you until the day I die.”

“I love you too,” she whispered. “But things are different now. I don’t know how I’ll feel in the future, but right now, I feel betrayed, hurt, and overwhelmed.”

“I’m sorry. You’ll never know how much this hurts me. What happened tonight is my fault. If I had only been strong enough to leave you, to lure them away before all of this happened.”

“I’m tired. I don’t want to get into deep conversation right now. Just answer me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“Am I a danger to Patrick?” She held her breath.

“No. You never will be either. He’s perfectly safe.”

She let the breath out in a whoosh. “Why were they chasing you?”

“Terrance, the one who bit you, told them I was a rogue. They’ve been chasing me for six months.”

“A rogue? That’s what Terrance was talking about. And what is Sanctuary?”

“A rogue is a lycan who doesn’t abide by our rules. Our species is in danger of dying out. All potential mates—like you—are of the utmost importance to our survival. If one is found, she is meant to be cherished, and kept safe at all costs. Rogues do not follow that law. They believe potential mates are fair game for torture, rape, and murder. They use them for amusement more times than not. Once a rogue has been located, if the potential for reformation is there, they are sent to Sanctuary to go through a program. If they reform, they are allowed to live.”

“And if they can’t be reformed?” She raised a brow.

“They are put down,” he answered quietly.

“Oh my God! That’s wrong. Why don’t you send them to prison?”

“We can’t. Think about it. If humans find out about our existence, we will be hunted to extinction. We are already facing it as it is. That’s why potential mates are so important.”

“How do you know I’m a potential mate? How do you know I’m your mate?”

“All potential mates have two scents—one that all lycans can smell, the other only a fated mate can smell. I can smell both on you. That means you are my fated mate.”

“If another lycan, one besides you, had found me, what would have happened?”

“Nothing. You would have been watched. Protected. And any honorable single male in the area would have been free to see if you were his. If you were, he would have been free to approach you. It would always have been your choice, though. No potential mate is ever forced to accept a mate or change. Ever. Not by an honorable lycan. Unfortunately, rogues are not honorable. I’m sorry the choice was taken from you tonight.”

“Are the others gone?”

“Yes. They won’t bother you again.”

“What about Terrance?”

“I’m not sure. I can only assume he has already been dealt with. He hurt you. He would have had no problem murdering you for his own gain. And I will not lie to you. Had things been different, had I gotten my hands on him, I would have killed him for hurting you. He lied about me. I gave him a chance when, in my heart, I knew he was beyond reformation. It’s my fault. All of it. I should have taken care of the problem. Instead, I let it get out of hand, and my mistake caused you pain.”

“I’m going to bed now. You and I will have a long talk tomorrow. Patrick won’t be home until the day after.” She turned to go back to the house, when his words stopped her.

“You love me?”

She kept her back to him as her shoulders sagged. “Yes, but as I said, things are different now.”

She continued to the house, where she crawled into bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * *

He’d lost her. Myka would never trust him again. Galen tore his clothes off and let his wolf roar to the surface. He ran for the woods with sorrow burning through his soul as brightly as the sun. He’d finally found his mate, and now he’d lost her. She said she loved you. It didn’t matter. He’d seen the hurt shining in her eyes.

She wanted him to stay, but for how long? Once she learned everything she needed to know about lycans, after she shifted for the first time, would she send him packing? He’d no longer be of use to her after that. Even if she did ask him to leave, he’d never go far away. He’d watch over her for the rest of his life. He had a little over three weeks before the next full moon, before her first change. He’d convince her to stay with him before then. Somehow he’d make her trust him again. He had to. He was lost without her.

He howled his pain to the sky and ran until his muscles clenched in pain from being overused. Hours later, he stared down at her while she slept. He’d have to fix her door tomorrow. The lock was broken, which was probably how Terrance had gotten in so easily.

She moaned as a scowl marred her delicate features. She was dreaming. Then an idea hit him. He turned to leave, but couldn’t resist fingering a soft curl before heading back to the barn. He would find a way to make her want him again, make her understand that they were meant for one another.

Chapter Twelve

“It’s beautiful.” Myka watched the slow rise of the sun above the tree line from the pasture fence.

“Yes. It is,” Galen agreed softly.

She spun around.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

“Why do you keep showing up in my dreams?”

“We are connected by fate. We share a bond that can never be broken.”

“No.” She turned back around to face the sunrise.

“It’s the truth, but it can’t force you to be with me. Nor would I. But I won’t deny I will never quit trying to convince you that we belong together.”

“I’m scared . . . confused . . . worried. I don’t know how to handle this. I’m going to become something I only thought existed in fairy tales.” She shrugged. “When will it happen? Can I choose to stop it? Is there anything I can do to make this all go away?”

He leaned against the fence beside her. “You will change for the first time during the next full moon. You have no choice the first time. After that, you can decide when or if you want to shift again. Although I won’t lie. Your wolf will call to you no matter how hard you try to ignore it. It will become a part of you.”

“Why? Why did this have to happen?” She took in a shuddering breath. There was no way to stop what she would soon become.

“Will you ever be able to forgive me, Myka? I never meant for this to happen. I would never hurt you in any way.”

After everything that had happened, in her heart, she knew that to be the one thing true no matter what. He would never hurt her. Not intentionally.

“I’m beyond frightened right now. I don’t know what to do.”

He gently urged her into his arms, and she quietly sobbed against the warm comfort of his wide chest. Why did the one man she’d fallen in love with have to be a werewolf? Why couldn’t he have been a normal person with a normal life? The answer was simple. She would have been bored with a normal man. Galen could show her a whole new world. Maybe she was viewing all of this the wrong way.

“It’s okay. Everything will be all right. I’ll be here with you every step of the way. I’ll help you. I love you, angel.”

“Since you told me I won’t be dangerous to Patrick, I assume I’ll have control over what I’m doing once I . . . I can’t say it.”

He stroked her back. “You won’t be any different than you are now. You won’t do anything as the wolf that you wouldn’t do as a human. Your wolf and human sides will both be conscious of one another at all times no matter what form you are in. The biggest changes you will notice are your heightened senses and strength. You’ll be faster, stronger. Your hearing, taste, smell, sight will all be enhanced. Your instincts will become more honed. Best of all, if you get hurt, you will heal when you shift.”

“Seriously?” She looked up at him.

“Yes.” He smiled.

“I wasn’t imagining it,” she said quietly.

“Imagining what?”

“You were hurt. When Terrance had me, you were bruised and bloody, but after I woke up in your arms, you looked fine. You were still covered in dirt, and strangely naked, but not hurt.” Her mouth fell open. “They hurt you, and you changed and healed yourself.”

“Yes.”

She stared at him for several long minutes before finally asking, “From the very first day we met, you knew I was your mate. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How do you walk up to someone and say, ‘Hi. I’m Galen. And by the way, I’m a lycan, and you are my mate. Will you let me change you and spend the rest of your life with me?’ I was going to tell you, but we were interrupted. Remember?” He frowned. “Your life span will be”—he cleared his throat—”a bit longer as well.”

“How much longer? How old are you?”

“Do you really want me to answer? Because I won’t lie to you, but you already have a lot to handle.”

“How old are you?” she asked firmly again.

“Five hundred, give or take a few years.”

She gasped, stepped back, then slowly covered her mouth with her hand. After several seconds, she looked up at him.

“I’m going to outlive Patrick?”

He grimaced and nodded.

“After he grows up, can we change him if he chooses?”

“No. Only a potential mate can be turned. Patrick would not change if bitten. He could even possibly develop an infection from the bite.”

“No! This is not fair. How am I supposed to be expected to watch him die one day?”

“Myka.” He took her by the shoulders. “It won’t happen for a long, long time. Death is something we all have to deal with. You can’t imagine how lonely my life has been. You can’t imagine how happy I was when I found someone who I wouldn’t eventually have to watch die.”

Now she was beginning to understand Galen better. He’d always had an edge about him. Always seemed to be friendly, yet kept a distance from others. He shielded himself from getting close to others because he knew one day he’d lose them. She couldn’t imagine how many people he’d cared about that he’d lost in his long lifetime.

Her chest ached thinking about all of the pain he must have endured. Now he’d found her, and she wanted to leave him too. But she couldn’t deny the part of her that felt betrayed. Although he did have a point. He couldn’t exactly have walked up to her after their first meeting and expected her to believe that he was a lycan. And he had been about to tell her before they’d been ambushed.

“When you say you are here in my dream because we are connected, what exactly does that mean?”

“When we are together in our dreams, it is real. This is real. Everything we experience is real. But only the memories of what happens here—nothing physical—can be carried back when we awake. And while it is possible to carry real injuries we might have sustained while awake into our dreams, once we realize we are dreaming, those physical limitations disappear here as well. Nothing physical—tangible—can travel between the two.”

“How am I supposed to wrap my mind around all of this? What am I supposed to do?”

“Give me a chance to love you, to show you that I can make you happy. Give us a chance, Myka. I need you, angel. I’ll help raise Patrick. I’ll love him as my own. I already love him as my own. We’ll fix the farm up. Expand the barn and chicken coop. Take in more horses if you like. Together we’ll make it our own. Make it perfect for our family.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have the money for that, and there aren’t many jobs around here for you, Galen.”

“I have money. More than I know what to do with. I’ve had a very long time to save up.” He smiled.

“I can’t just take your money,” she said in a huff.

“You can’t take something that is freely given. Everything I have is yours.”

“It’s not right.”

“Why? Why is it not right? You’ve worked hard your entire life. You lost your parents. You lost your brother, and you are trying to give Patrick the best of everything. Let me help you do that. If not for you, for Patrick. Let me make your lives easier for a change. Let me provide you the opportunity to enjoy life and what it has to offer instead of struggling with everything it’s taken from you. I know money can’t buy happiness, but it can be a true blessing if you have the right person to share it with. I’ve never wanted to share it before, but I do now.”

“I don’t want you to think I want you for your money,” she scoffed.

“I would never think that. You wanted me before you knew I had money.” He chuckled.

“I can’t deny it makes you even more attractive.” She pursed her lips. “Actually, I don’t think it’s possible for you to be more attractive. And that was a joke, of course. Money has nothing to do with how gorgeous you are, or my interest in you.”

“Angel, if there is one thing I’m sure of about you, it is that you are not a shallow woman.” He took her hands in his. “Give us a chance, Myka. Just a chance. I’ll get on my knees and beg if you want me to.”

“I would never ask you to beg for anything, Galen. No one should ever have that much power over another person.”

“Oh, but you do, angel.” He flipped her hands over, palms up. “You hold the ability to destroy me in these two tiny hands.”

“I’m confused.” She frowned. “I want you. I love you, but I’m scared . . . unsure of everything at the moment.”

“I will always be here for you. If you need me, you only need to say the word.”

“I need some time to clear my head. I need to think things through properly.”

He cupped her cheek in his big palm, bent, and placed his warm lips against her mouth and captured her sigh. When he slipped his tongue inside, she couldn’t resist the temptation to taste him. He tasted of man, of dominance, of Galen. She moaned when he stepped back, aching for his lips to be back on hers. But he was only doing what she’d asked—giving her time and space to think. She respected him for not trying to seduce her, because at this point, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to resist him.

She needed him. Wanted him to hold her. Yearned for him to comfort her. But she had to keep a clear mind and make the right decision. She had to be careful how she proceeded. She couldn’t allow Patrick to get hurt. And she didn’t particularly want a broken heart either.

* * *

Galen awoke as soon as Myka retreated from the dream. When he’d found her sleeping earlier, he’d hoped to be able to reach her in her dreams. His plan had worked. While things hadn’t turned out exactly how he’d like, at least she’d listened to him. He doubted she’d have given him that courtesy had they been awake.

He sniffed the air, then sat up from the twin bed in his room. By the time he made it to the barn doors, Brent was waiting for him outside.

“What are you doing here?” he growled.

“Thought you deserved the honor of taking care of Terrance. If you care to, that is. If not, we can take care of him.”

“I won’t kill him no matter how much the urge burns inside me to do so. Myka would never forgive me if I did. However, I wouldn’t mind having a little chat with the fucker.” Galen clenched his hands into fists.

“Let’s go.” Brent motioned toward the trees across the pasture.

By the time they arrived to where Knox and Raze were holding Terrance, Galen had let the fury of what Terrance had done to Myka take hold. He’d be true to his word. He wouldn’t kill him, but he didn’t have anything against hurting him a little.

“Let me go!” Terrance struggled against Knox and Raze.

“Yeah. Let him go,” Galen growled.

Eerie silence settled throughout the forest for several seconds as if every living thing could feel the anger emanating from Galen.

Fear shined in Terrance’s eyes after he was released. “I told you he was a killer.” He spit the words at the others. “He’s going to kill me just like he did all those women.”

“Give it a fucking rest, Terrance.” Brent rolled his eyes. “No one believes you now. Hell, no one really believed you to begin with.”

“So what? You’re going to kill me then?” Terrance shouted at Galen.

Galen shook his head. “Nope. I’m only going to kick your ass. What happens after that is up to them.” He nodded toward Brent and the others.

“Bring it on. This time I won’t hold back!” Terrance snarled before shifting into a wolf.

Galen laughed before letting his fangs and claws slide down. “Come and get some, pup.”

The muddy gray wolf leapt at him, and Galen feinted to the side and raised his claws to rip down the pup’s side as he flew by him. Terrance landed with a yelp, and blood began to seep through the fur where Galen had tagged him.

“You can’t win, pup. Shift back. Let me give you a proper ass kicking. Take it like a man.”

Terrance snarled, and leapt again. Snapping jaws came within inches of Galen’s face, but at the last moment, he punched the wolf in the head and sent him sprawling to the ground once again. This time, Terrance lay still for several moments, sides heaving, before finally getting back to his feet. He shifted and fell back to the ground on his naked ass.

“Damn but you are a pussy, pup,” Galen mocked him.

Terrance growled and got to his feet again. “I’m going to kill you!”

“Not on your best day and my worst.”

Terrance let out a sound that was nearing a screech and charged Galen, but Galen leapt into the air, clearing Terrance by a good foot before landing smoothly in a crouch. Terrance turned and charged Galen again, but Galen had had enough. He caught Terrance around the neck, and held him in a choke hold as the pup screamed, kicked, and clawed to get away. Galen increased the pressure until Terrance finally passed out from air loss and landed in a heap at his feet.

“I don’t think this one can be saved,” Brent said.

“He’d already be dead if I thought Myka would forgive me,” Galen sadly replied. “Whatever you decide, I’ll support you. But if you give him another chance, if he actually makes it through the reformation program by some miracle, you better warn him to stay clear of me, Myka, Patrick, and this whole damned area. If I see him again after today, I will kill him. There will be no questions asked. No forgiveness. No more chances. He will die if he gets near my family again.”

Brent nodded before Galen turned to make his way back to the barn. He stood in front of the house for a long time. Every cell in him reached for the woman inside. He wanted to go to her, take her in his arms, and simply hold her while she slept. He wanted to comfort her, tell her things would be okay, but he would give her the time she’d asked for to think things through. He owed her that much. Hell, he owed her more than that much.

“Come back to me, Myka,” he whispered before heading back to the barn.

Dawn was turning the sky pink, and he decided to give the horses their feed early. He’d give them all a good brushing as well, as an apology for last night. His stomach knotted. If only it was that easy to convince Myka to forgive him, and make things right between them again. Things were never that easy in life, though. All the best things came at a cost. He only hoped he had whatever price Myka would be asking.

* * *

Myka looked at the clock and groaned. She’d been lying in bed all day. The only time she’d gotten up was to use the bathroom and to call Patrick. She hadn’t even bothered with eating, which her stomach had strongly objected to several times. Evening would be here soon, and she’d argued with herself until her mind was numb. She’d never been one to sulk, never given in to defeat easily, but she was still at a loss as to what to do about Galen. About everything.

The only thing that was certain was that she loved Galen, and he loved her. But was it enough? She was scared. Then she realized something else. She had never been a quitter. She’d always faced whatever life had thrown at her with determination, and sometimes stubbornness. How was this time any different? Uh, because you are going to become a completely different species? She rolled her eyes. Still, was becoming a werewolf any worse than what she’d gone through when her parents had died, or losing Travis?

No. In fact, if she thought on it hard enough, she was being a complete ass. She truly believed Galen had never meant to hurt her, had never meant for Terrance to bite her. He was a victim in this as much as she was. Instead of focusing on the gift she’d been given, the love of a good, decent man—okay, werewolf, but still—she was focusing on the bad stuff. Patrick liked Galen, and Galen would be a wonderful father. He had been nothing but kind to them both from the very start.

And what had she done? Lain around all day feeling sorry for herself and blaming Galen for things he had no control over. While he’d been aware of the danger he’d been in, she was certain, had he thought for a second things would have turned out like they had with the others and Terrance, he would have left. He would have protected her. He was a victim in all of this as well. He’d been hunted for something he’d been falsely accused of. If she had to blame anyone, it should be the assholes who had pursued him for so long. They were the ones who ultimately placed Terrance at her doorstep.

How could anyone possibly think Galen was capable of doing the things he was accused of? Five minutes after she’d met him, had someone told her he’d done what Terrance said, she would have known that it wasn’t possible. Yet she wondered if their fated bond was responsible for her instant trust and attraction to him. Even if that were true, her instincts were good, and they’d told her from the start that he was a good man.

So what are you going to do then, Myka?

She sat up, and winced when pain shot through her shoulder. “I’ll tell you what I’m going to do about it,” she said as she fought the sheets tangled around her legs. Finally getting free, she stood and went to her dresser.

She got a pair of jeans, a sweater, socks, and underwear—forgoing the bra thanks to her shoulder—and hastily pulled them on. After brushing her teeth and hair, she went through the kitchen and tugged on the boots sitting by the door.

“I’m going to get the love of my life back,” she said as she finally stepped outside and headed for the barn.

Chapter Thirteen

“You can’t sneak up on me.”

“I wasn’t trying to.” Myka stared at Galen from the open barn door as he shoveled the last scoop of clean sawdust into the wheelbarrow.

He wheeled the full load to Buddy’s empty stall and poured it in with no effort. She sighed, wishing she could clean stalls that easily. Then a thought occurred to her.

“Will I be able to do all the chores as easily as you do after . . . after, you know?”

He leaned against the door of the stall and crossed his arms over his chest. “You won’t be as strong as I am, but I think you’ll find bucking hay and cleaning stalls a much easier task. Although I’d still rather you not do those things. I can do them for you, or we can get someone else to.”

“Galen, I—”

“I’ll be here when and if you decide you want to be with me. I won’t leave you. I’ll help you through the change, and I’ll do my best to respect whatever decisions you make about us.”

“As easy as that, huh?”

He nodded.

“And what if I decide that I can’t be with you? What if later down the line I bring a date here? Are you simply going to stand back and respect my decision?”

He suddenly stood and took two steps toward her. They now stood toe-to-toe, and she had to crane her neck back to look up at him. Still she was not afraid.

“To answer your first question, I would be crushed. And as far as your second? Ask anything of me but that. I’m afraid I don’t have it in me to let another man lay one finger on you while I’m alive.”

She smiled up at him. “Good. But understand one thing.” She waited until he raised a brow in question. “I don’t share either. If you ever touch another woman, well, let’s just say I’ve watched the vet geld several stallions over the years.”

He chuckled, but turned pale when she simply stared up at him, unsmiling. She reached out and ran her fingers lightly over his chest. The hard muscles bunched under her touch.

“I don’t know how I will end up handling everything, Galen. I won’t act like I’m okay with all of this. It will take some time for me to come to terms with it all.”

“Understandable.”

“But I do know a few things for certain.”

“Which are?” he asked quietly.

“First of all, you can’t blame yourself for what happened.” When he started to protest, she reached up and pressed her index finger firmly against his lips. “Shhh. Let me finish,” she said, surprised at how husky her voice sounded to her own ears. “It wasn’t your fault. If it wasn’t Terrance, it could have been someone else. Hell, a drifter—a human—could have wandered out here at any time, and done worse, for that matter. If anyone is to blame for what happened, it is Terrance. Not you. Secondly, I love you. I don’t want to lose you.” She let her finger slide from his lips, but he caught her wrist and held her palm flat over his heart.

“I love you, Myka. Have from the moment I first saw you. I swear I will do everything in my power to make you and Patrick happy.”

“I know you will. I will simply have to trust that everything else will work itself out.”

“I will be here to help you through all of the other stuff.”

“There’s one more thing I’m certain of.” She caught her breath when his hazel eyes began to glow.

“What’s that?”

“I’m certain that I want you to make love to me right now.”

He cupped her face with his hands. “Be sure, angel. I’ve waited for what seems like an eternity for this moment. I’ve burnt up all of my control the last few times we’ve almost been together. I don’t think I have any willpower left where you are concerned. Once we start, I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk away.”

“I don’t want you to walk away. I want you, Galen. And I do believe you told me that you would do anything to make me happy. You making love to me would make me very happy.”

“In that case, I certainly don’t want to disappoint you.”

Before she could think up a clever response, his mouth was on hers, and she was falling back into a soft mound of hay. His tongue slid inside her mouth, and she moaned when his scent and taste hit her. He tangled his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss. Her body caught fire instantly, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, only to wince when pain shot through her shoulder.

He leaned back and looked down at her with a scowl on his face before gently easing her shirt aside to inspect the bite.

“There’s something I need to tell you about this.” He traced the wound softly with his finger. But instead of continuing, he stood. Every muscle in his body tensed, and she shivered at the loss of his heat.

“What’s wrong?” She took his offered hand and let him pull her up beside him.

“We have company,” he said.

She took a hesitant step back, but he refused to let go of her hand to allow her to retreat further. “Wh-Who is it?” she asked.

He gently tugged her to his side, but kept her tucked under his arm as if shielding her with his body. “It’s okay, Myka. No threat.”

She followed him out of the barn to find Brent standing alone in the yard.

“Why are you here? I asked you to never come here again.” The menace in Galen’s voice could not be mistaken.

“I needed to apologize personally to the lady,” Brent said as his dark eyes rested on her.

He was a handsome man, and held an edge to him not unlike Galen—an edge of lethalness.

“She’s already been through enough,” Galen said.

Myka squeezed his hand reassuringly. “It’s okay. I’m fine.” She took a step away from him, but didn’t release his hand. “Thank you for your apology, but I can’t pretend that I’m not angry at what you did. And how could you beat Galen like that? You and your friends should be ashamed of yourselves. Galen is a good man.”

“Yes, ma’am. I’m aware of that.” Brent slid his gaze to Galen, then back to Myka. “I can only assure you that we doubted Terrance’s story pretty much from the start, but still had a duty to find Galen and get his side. Our race is in too much danger from extinction to take any risks, however small they may be. If it’s of any consolation to you, Galen gave as good as he got during the fight.”

“I can understand your need to get Galen’s side of the story, but I don’t agree with how you went about doing it. And while I’m happy Galen isn’t the only one who suffered physically during your altercation, it’s of little consolation to me. He should have never been hurt in the first place,” she said after raising her chin and looking Brent directly in the eyes.

“I hope one day to earn your forgiveness.” He bowed his head slightly. “I also wanted to extend an invitation to Sanctuary for both of you. Please feel free to visit at any time. You will always be welcome. My friend Anthony has a mate named Karen who was also bitten by a rogue. She may be able to help you with the difficulty of your first change.”

“Difficulty?” Myka frowned and looked up at Galen in question.

“I haven’t discussed it with her yet. Nonetheless, if she will let me, I will be able to ease the pain.” Galen ignored her question completely, which irked her.

“There is no way to ease the pain of a change that occurs from the bite of a rogue,” Brent said.

“There is. I have witnessed it with my own eyes,” Galen replied.

Brent took a step forward, but stopped when Galen let out a low warning growl.

“Tell me. Please. It may be useful to us in the future,” Brent pleaded.

Galen stared at Brent intently. Myka held her breath wondering if punches were about to fly, but after several gut clenching moments Brent retreated a step and Galen’s shoulders relaxed before he answered.

“If a potential mate is bitten by a rogue but finds her mate before her first shift, he can bite her in the same place. It will ease the pain of the bite and make the first change easier. Almost as easy as if her mate had originally turned her.”

“I’m an ancient. I’ve never heard of this. Neither have any of the other ancients I know.”

“Now you have.”

“How can this be?” Brent asked.

“I’ve only witnessed it once in my lifetime. Many, many years ago, when things were different, when man still commanded woman. The leader of one of the packs I was running with forced it upon his mate after a rogue bit her because he knew it would relieve some of her pain. While he did it with the best intentions, and it did ease her suffering, she never forgave him. I can only assume you’ve never heard of this because it’s rare. And during those exceptional occasions when the circumstance arises, I can’t imagine many women in this day and age agreeing to be bitten again after going through such a traumatizing event to begin with. Women are no longer commanded by their mates. They make their own choices.”

Brent nodded. “Yes. I guess that is true. Thank you for this information. Like I said, it may prove useful in the future to save someone from suffering. I’m sorry again, Myka, for everything. I’m sorry to you as well, my brother. I hope to see you both at some point at Sanctuary. In fact, this would be a great place to expand if you are willing.”

“No. It’s too dangerous for Patrick. I will not expose him to rogues,” Galen said adamantly.

Myka wouldn’t argue with that. She would never intentionally bring danger to Patrick’s doorstep.

“Patrick?” Brent asked.

“Myka’s nephew that lives here with her,” Galen answered. “He’s only five and has recently lost his father. He’s had enough on his plate to deal with.”

“I did not know about Patrick. I agree. Maybe some of the women, some of the potential mates who have suffered at the hands of rogues, might do better in a more secluded place with fewer men around. That could be an option without bringing danger to the boy.”

“We’ll talk about it, but I can’t make any promises. This is Myka’s place, and she has the final say.”

She leaned against Galen, grateful that he’d respected her place and decisions.

“Good-bye. I hope you both will enjoy many years of happiness together.” Brent turned and melded into the night.

“I’m going to assume by that little conversation that it’s not going to be all kittens and rainbows the first time I shift? Not that I was looking forward to it anyway,” she muttered. Shivers of dread snaked down her spine, followed by fear.

“I wanted to discuss this with you in private. Let’s go to the house so we can talk.”

She nodded and followed him inside. He pulled a kitchen chair out from under the table, sat down, then tugged her onto his lap. After he wrapped his arms around her, she leaned back against his chest and rested her hands on his forearms.

“Tell me,” she said quietly.

“The first shift is a bit uncomfortable, but the first shift due to a rogue’s bite is . . . intense.”

She sat up and turned to face him. “And by intense you mean painful?”

“Yes. A rogue’s bite is even more painful than a fated mate’s bite.”

“Can’t say my shoulder hasn’t been burning like hell.” She shifted her shoulder and winced.

“It won’t stop hurting, may even get worse at times, until after your first change.”

“Three weeks. I have to deal with this for three weeks?” Tears shimmered in her eyes.

She wasn’t a whiner by any means, but she couldn’t deny that the pain from the bite was a little more than a simple burning like hell. As it was, she thought Freddy Krueger was trying to claw his way out of her skin with his wicked razor fingers. Could she handle a full three weeks of it? Yes, but it would be difficult at best.

“I can help you if you’ll let me, but it will take a significant amount of trust on your part.”

“Yeah, I know why too. I didn’t forget the conversation between you and Brent. I’m not sure I can go through it again, Galen. It was horrible when Terrance bit me . . . excruciating. I always credited myself with being tough, but I don’t know if I can handle it again.”

“If I bite you, it won’t hurt like it did with Terrance. It will be uncomfortable, but if I do it while we are making love, you will hardly notice. Some say it is stimulating during sex. I won’t push you on this. The decision is completely yours. I can’t begin to understand your pain or fear. I only want to help ease your discomfort. I love you. I die a little inside every time I think of what you must be going through, and how I should have protected you.”

“Let’s not get back into this being your fault again. It’s not, and I don’t blame you.” She sighed and leaned her head against his chest. “It’s bad, Galen. It really hurts bad. It comes and goes in waves, but at its peak”—she shuddered—”sometimes I want to scream.”

He tipped her chin up until their eyes met. “Let me help you,” he whispered.

“I’m scared,” she whispered back.

“I know, but I won’t hurt you.”

“I’ll think about it. Will you please make love to me now? And maybe we could use my bed?”

“Maybe we’ll get there eventually.” He smiled.

She squeaked when he lifted her from his lap and deposited her on the edge of the table in front of him. He pulled her jeans and panties off, then tugged her shirt over her head, being careful not to bump her injured shoulder. He growled low in his throat as his glowing eyes traced the contours of her body. She blushed when he placed her feet on the tops of his thighs.

“This isn’t fair,” she whispered.

“Why?” His brow shot up.

“I’m naked, and you’re not.”

“That’s easily remedied.” He stood, and got rid of his shirt.

She licked her lips at the broad expanse of muscle that was now on display, and when he reached for the buttons on his jeans, her eyes greedily fell to his fingers, waiting in anticipation. His hands froze, and it took a low growl to bring her gaze back to his face. Her breath caught in her throat at the blatantly feral look on his face. He looked as if he was about to eat her up. At that moment, she had no idea why Red would ever run from the wolf.

“What’s wrong?” She gulped in a breath of air.

“The way you look at me. Your beautiful eyes glazed with scorching need and passion just for me. It tests my control, Myka.”

“Who says you need control?” She giggled nervously.

“Me. I want to taste every inch of you, and right now, all my body wants is to get inside you as fast as it can.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t mind,” she said huskily.

He groaned, unbuttoned the rest of the buttons, and slid the jeans off his long legs while toeing his boots off. She sucked in another breath at the sight of him. He was glorious, and he was all hers.

He sat back down on the chair in front of her and placed her feet on the tops of his thighs once again. They were nearly eye to eye, and she didn’t feel quite so small from this angle. He reached out and gently traced the row of puncture wounds from Terrance’s bite. He looked up at her with anger burning in his still-glowing eyes.

“No.” She cupped his face. “Don’t bring him into this. This is only you and me. I don’t want anything or anyone else here when we are together.”

“Let me make it better for you,” he said through clenched teeth.

“I’ll think about it.”

He continued to stare at her. His gaze burned through her, heating her body, making her want to squirm, but he finally nodded. His lips captured hers, and she wound her arms around his neck. She pressed herself against his big, naked chest, and fire scorched her veins. She’d never met anyone who made her feel complete, like all of life’s mysteries were solved as long as he held her.

His tongue playfully danced in her mouth, but soon the playfulness turned dominating, demanding, and she wanted nothing more than to give him everything he asked for. In return, he gave her more pleasure than she’d ever dreamed of. He cupped the back of her head and held her prisoner to his mouth and tongue. She moaned as he licked, nibbled, and drank in every sigh, every groan, every single breath. He was devouring her, and they began to meld, blend, and become one.

She cried out at the loss of his mouth as he began to gently nip his way across her jaw, down her neck, and over her collarbone before stopping at her shoulder. Her fingers tangled in his short hair as he gently kissed and licked every puncture from the bite, even turning her to get the ones on her back before wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly as he laid his head against her chest.

Every single touch, caress, lick, and nibble spoke of his love for her. It was as if he cherished her, as if he worshipped her, and it made her feel sexy as hell. She held him against her, and when he loosened the hug and turned his face to take one of her nipples into his mouth, she whimpered in delight.

His hands splayed over and curled around the tops of her thighs and pushed them wide before he moved to her other nipple and sucked it into his hot mouth. She arched against him and held him to her, urging him on. His fingers snaked farther up her thighs, and she moaned when he spread her labia and thumbed her clit. The pressure built inside her, and she squirmed. He stilled her by gripping her hips with his long fingers, then kissed his way down her belly before laving her navel. She whimpered again when he trailed his mouth lower and licked a trail over her mound, then tongued her clit.

She collapsed back onto the table when he buried his face between her legs. His tongue was magical in its quest to bring her pleasure, dipping inside her and circling her clit with expertise. He pushed her legs wider and tugged her to the edge of the table. When she tried to sit up again, he gently, but firmly pushed her back down and guided her hands where she could grip the lip with her fingers to anchor herself.

His tongue curled around her clit again before slowly licking a path down her slit, then diving deep inside. She moaned and tried to tighten her legs around his head, but he wedged his wide shoulders between her thighs, keeping her splayed for his welcomed assault. He licked back up to her clit, then slid one long finger inside. The pressure built another notch, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before she exploded.

She whimpered when he slid another finger inside her and stretched her until she was on the precipice of pain, but somehow that only excited her further.

“You’re so tight, angel. I want to make sure you are ready for me. I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice vibrated against her.

Her body yielded and accommodated his fingers as they slid in and out of her with ease, but when he slowly started to add a third finger, she squeaked in alarm.

“Shhh. Relax, Myka. I won’t hurt you.”

Before she could protest that three of his fingers would never fit, his tongue landed on her clit once again, and she forgot everything but the fire that shot through her and settled just under his tongue. Within moments, she was amazed that he was now making love to her with his beautiful mouth and three fingers. Not only did it not hurt, but the fullness inside her felt amazing.

“I want you, Galen. Please,” she pleaded. She didn’t want to come without him inside her this time.

He stood, and she hissed at the sudden loss of the fullness and slide of his wicked fingers. He gently turned her until she was chest down on the table, and guided her arms to stretch out at her sides. Her hips dangled over the end, and he stepped between them before leaning over her. Her entire back was suddenly engulfed by the heat of him.

She couldn’t move. He had her firmly imprisoned underneath him, but he didn’t hurt her, and she didn’t feel scared or intimidated. Far from it. She lifted her hips up, and was rewarded with the press of his cock at the opening that was unashamedly weeping for him. He began to ease inside her, and she found him to be even bigger than he’d prepared her for.

“I don’t want to hurt you. Forgive me.”

His words came next to her ear, and his hot breath fanned over her cheek. He forced the tip inside and began inching farther in. He ran his hands over her splayed arms and covered the backs of her hands with his palms before lacing his fingers with hers.

He licked the puncture wounds on the back of her shoulder, and she groaned as the pain from the bite lessened. Her body stretched with each sinking inch of his cock. She didn’t know if she wanted to scream or cry from the overwhelming sensations zinging through her body.

“Let me make this better for you,” he whispered before licking the bite again.

Her head swirled, and her body cried out for his as he stilled only halfway inside her. She sobbed and tried to push back to pull him in completely, but he had her pinned. Frustration beat at her.

“Please, Galen! Please.”

He flexed his hips and slid another inch. They both groaned, but he stilled again.

“Let me.” He licked the bite again. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t ever hurt you.”

“I’m not afraid, Galen. But I think I might die here if you don’t . . .” She flexed her hips so he knew what she meant.

“Then say yes, and I’ll give you everything you need, angel.”

She couldn’t take any more. She was going out of her mind with need. Finally, she cried out, “Yes! Yes!”

A split second later, she screamed out louder when he slammed his cock home with a thrust of his hips. The world tilted, and she became numb to everything but the feel of Galen pounding into her, of his hot body blanketing her, of the pressure building with each thrust, of the scent of him.

With each slam of his hips, she was pushed higher across the table, but slid back down with each retreat. The tablecloth allowed her to glide freely on the surface as he thrust into her over and over. She began to pant, but hung on, not wanting this to be over. But then his mouth came down over her shoulder, and teeth sunk into her flesh.

The shock and expected pain made her flinch, but the pain didn’t come. When he bit into her, the most beautiful, unadulterated pleasure bathed her in warm light. He slammed home again, and she screamed out as her orgasm ripped through her, racking her body with relentless waves of ecstasy, one after another, that robbed her of her breath. Her mouth fell open, and her eyes stared unseeing as she gave up all senses but the feel of what Galen did to her.

His hands tightened over hers as he continued to pound into her. Just when she thought she’d surely die, that no one could withstand this much pleasure at one time, he released her shoulder and gave a guttural cry as he came. Her inner muscles clenched around him with every hot jet of his release, and she cried out when they continued to spasm as if trying to drag him even deeper. With one last thrust, he collapsed over her. She was sure her bones had disappeared. She couldn’t move, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.

He kissed her shoulder. “Better?” he asked in a gravelly voice.

“Yes. It is. It barely hurts now. But how?”

“I’m your mate. That’s how it should have felt when you were bitten.”

“Good God, Galen. I barely survived it. It was . . . it was . . . I don’t know how to explain it.”

“As if we became one. As if everything in the universe aligned in perfect harmony for that one moment,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

He turned her over and stared down at her. “You are beautiful.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, but I think we have a problem.”

“What’s that?” he said in alarm.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to move again.”

“Let’s go to bed, angel.” He chuckled and scooped her up.

“Let’s,” she agreed before resting her head against his chest.

Galen made her feel safe, kept the fear of what lay ahead for her at bay when she was close to him like this. She knew that if given the choice to become a werewolf or not, she would have chosen not, but maybe that’s why she wasn’t given the choice. Fate took the choice from her for a reason—Galen. She could have loved him without being changed, but she doubted he would have been truly happy knowing one day she would die on him. Maybe this was her destiny. Maybe Terrance had taken that decision from her because fate had devised it that way. Whatever was to come, she was sure she loved Galen, and he loved her and Patrick.

Galen had proven he’d protect her, care for her, take care of her, but more than that, he’d be a great father to Patrick. While they were both aware that he could never take Travis’s place, Patrick needed a father figure in his life. She had to trust that things would work out, and with Galen by her side, how could they not? It was time for life to start giving instead of taking. She inwardly frowned. No. That statement implied she’d had a bad life, and she hadn’t.

She’d had a good life with the exception of losing some of the people she loved. Her mother. Her father. Her brother. And watching Patrick suffer as well from his loss? It had all taken a toll on her. So how had she ever thought to turn her back on Galen? He’d suffered, lost people, and was lonely, same as her. Regardless of what he was or how he’d come into her life, she loved him. And she would be thankful every day for him, Betty, Tom, and everyone she knew in town. From this day on, she vowed to do her best to focus on the good things, to keep the memories of the ones she’d lost close to her heart, and to remember the joy they’d brought to her instead of centering on the pain of losing them.

Chapter Fourteen

Myka groaned and squinted when the early morning sunlight from the window hit her in the face. That was when she realized a big, hot body was wrapped around her, spoon style. She smiled and sighed. Galen. He’d woken her several times throughout the night to make love to her, and she was deliciously sore in places she didn’t know could get sore.

“Morning, angel.”

“Morning.”

“Did you sleep well?” he asked before pulling her snugger against his chest.

“Yes. You?”

“I don’t sleep much.” He kissed the side of her neck. “Besides, I didn’t want to interrupt your sleep. You looked exhausted.”

“Hmm. I wonder why, Mr. Insatiable.” She grinned, then frowned. “How would you sleeping interrupt my Zs anyway?”

“I didn’t want to disturb you in your dreams.”

“That dream stuff was real?” She turned to face him.

He nodded.

“I thought it wasn’t since you told me in . . . a . . . dream. We can really communicate in our dreams?”

“Yes, but we both have to be asleep at the same time.”

“I’ll never get used to all of this stuff.” She rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Give it some time to sink in. Don’t think on it all too much. I’ll be here for you if it gets overwhelming.” He bent down and captured her mouth with his lips.

Her body instantly leapt from sleep mode to burning-for-Galen mode. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and he rolled her under him and nestled his hips between her thighs. His hard cock pressed against her stomach, and white-hot need singed her veins.

“Sore this morning?”

“A little,” she admitted.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He frowned.

She smiled, cupped his face, and pulled him closer. “You didn’t hurt me, Galen.” She put her lips by his ear. “And if last night is your definition of hurting me, then I think I’d like you to hurt me some more right now,” she whispered before licking his lobe.

“You make me crazy, angel.” He framed her face with his hands, careful to keep most of his weight on his arms.

“I know that feeling.” She flexed her hips up.

His eyes began to glow.

“I’ll never get used to that.” She gasped when he shifted and positioned his cock at her opening.

“What?” He groaned as he sank slowly inside her.

“Your eyes. The glow,” she gasped.

“It’s your fault, angel. Unless you plan to quit turning me on so much, I suggest you get used to it.”

She tilted her hips up to pull him even deeper and ran her feet up his calves. “I think I can cope,” she murmured.

“I love you, Myka,” he said before kissing her and beginning a slow, rhythmic thrusting of his hips.

“I love you too, Galen.”

“I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to holding you in my arms every night.” His thrusting was faster now.

She could tell he was being careful of her tenderness from their marathon of lovemaking last night. She didn’t mind. It felt good no matter how he took her. From behind. From the front. From the side. Fast. Furious. Slow and lazy. He was a master at wringing every ounce of pleasure from her.

She gasped again as he slid particularly deep. “Can’t.” She struggled to get the word out.

“Can’t what?” He stilled.

She dug her heels into the backs of his thighs. “Don’t stop!” she whimpered.

When she strained upward, he growled low in his throat, and she smiled up at him from under half-closed lids.

“Can’t what?” he repeated softly.

“Patrick comes back today.”

He gave a quick upward stroke of his hips, then stilled again.

“And?”

“We can’t let him find out we are sleeping together.” She whimpered when he gave another hard thrust of his hips. “It wouldn’t be right. We aren’t married.”

He stared down into her face and smiled before starting the slow-rhythm thrusting again. She dug her fingers into his shoulders, and he continued to ride her in a mind-blowing dance that made her heartbeat quicken with the flow of pleasure that burned through her. The pressure built, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before he made her fly apart.

“Then we better get into town and find someone who can marry us today because I don’t plan to spend one more night of my life without you in my arms.”

“What?” she cried out as he increased the rhythm again.

“You heard me, angel.” His mouth crashed down on hers, and he slammed into her over and over.

“Galen!” she sobbed out in ecstasy.

“That’s it. Say my name, angel. Never forget who makes you feel like this,” he growled and continued pounding into her.

His mouth claimed hers again, and two thrusts of his hard cock later, she was tumbling over the cliff into a free fall. She rushed the ground below, but at the last second, she caught the wind and flew through the air. She soared as the waves of her orgasm hit her with a force that nearly robbed her of breath. Another stroke of his hips, and he yelled out his own release.

His hot seed flooded her in pulses, and her muscles clenched and unclenched in spasms around him, instinctively milking him of every drop. It took her ten minutes after he collapsed beside her and drew her up against him for the fog of her mind to clear and remember what he’d said.

“Married?” she asked.

He only nodded.

“I’ve never been asked,” she said.

She squeaked when he pulled her up to sit at the edge of the bed and sank to the floor on his knees in front of her. He took her hands in his and held them to his chest.

“I love you, Myka. You are the other half of my soul. I have been lost without you. You are everything to me. Nothing in the world would make me happier than if you would become my wife. Please say you’ll marry me?”

She looked down at him. She was humbled that he was naked and on his knees—maybe a little turned on too.

“I want to marry you, Galen, but I would like Patrick to get to know you better first. I’m aware you two already get along well, but I don’t want to throw him into yet another big change after what he’s been through.”

He sighed, stood, then sat beside her before pulling her onto his lap. “I understand, but I won’t wait long. One night without you in my arms is too much, but I don’t want to hurt Patrick either. I would be more than honored if he would look at me as a father one day. I won’t ever try to take Travis’s place. I couldn’t. I don’t know the first thing about being a dad, but I’ll do my best.”

“You’ll be a great dad, Galen.” She smiled up at him before he kissed her.

The ringing of the phone in the other room interrupted their kiss. She wrapped the sheet around her and got up to answer it. She giggled when Galen playfully grabbed for her, then sidestepped him and started for the kitchen. She got it on the fourth ring.

“Hello.”

“This is Betty, Myka.”

“Hey. Is everything okay?” She hadn’t expected a call until later from Betty.

“Yes. Yes, dear. Leroy has a slight fever and sniffles this morning, and I was wondering if you could come pick up Patrick. I hate to send him home so early. He and Leroy have been having a wonderful time, but after Patrick had that fever a couple days ago, I don’t want to risk him getting sick again. Doc was over this morning and said it’s only a cold, but I would feel really bad if Patrick got it.”

“Of course, I’ll come get him. I’m sorry to hear Leroy is under the weather.”

“He’ll be fine in no time, I’m sure. I simply feel horrible about having to cut their visit short.”

“It’s not your fault, Betty. Patrick can see Leroy again next time he visits.”

“Yes. That would be nice.”

“Can I bring you anything?”

“Tom is bringing me some Tylenol and soup later. Doc gave Leroy enough Tylenol until Tom gets here. I can’t think of anything else.”

“Okay. I’ll see you in a little while then.”

“Bye-bye, dear.”

“Bye, Betty.”

“Something wrong?”

She jumped, as she hadn’t heard Galen come up behind her. He looked scrumptious in the dark pair of jeans he wore. His broad, hair-sprinkled chest on display along with his washboard abs made her think of how he’d felt hot and naked against her.

“Leroy has a cold and a low fever. Betty wants me to pick Patrick up so he doesn’t catch it.”

“I’ll get dressed and go with you.”

“Thank you.” She smiled up at him.

“After I dress, I’ll feed the horses and meet you at the truck?”

“Sounds good. It won’t take me long,” she said.

* * *

It was obvious by the puckered pout of Patrick’s lips that he’d been disappointed about leaving Betty’s early, but he was being quite the little trooper about it. He sat between Galen, who was driving, and Myka, chatting about his new best friend, Leroy. From what she could gather, there was a chance that Leroy and his mother might move in with Betty next summer. Myka hoped if that were true, it wasn’t due to a difficult situation her granddaughter was in.

They had stopped on the way out of town so she could stock up on Tylenol just in case Patrick did end up coming down with Leroy’s cold. She wanted to be prepared this time.

“Galen, did you take good care of Buddy for me while I was gone?” Patrick asked.

“I always take extra special care of Buddy and Chloe because I know both of them mean so much to you and Myka,” Galen responded.

“Maybe one day you and me could go riding.”

“I would like that. As long as it’s okay with Myka.”

“She won’t mind. Would you, Myka?”

“Not as long as I can come too. Planning on leaving me out?” She chuckled.

“Course you can come.”

She looked over the top of Patrick’s head at Galen, and he nodded as if he knew exactly what she was thinking. “How would you feel if one day soon Galen lived with us?”

“He already lives with us,” Patrick said.

“No. I mean in the house with us.”

“Oh. You mean like you two would get married and stuff?”

“Something like that, but we wanted to wait a bit to give you some time to get used to the idea.”

“Would you be my new dad, Galen?” Patrick frowned.

“I could never take your dad’s place, Patrick. But I would love to be a dad to you in any way I can.”

“Do you think you can make Myka not worry so much over taking care of me?”

“Patrick, I do not worry about taking care of you. I want to take care of you.”

“No. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant how you get upset over money. I know you don’t think I notice, but I’m pretty smart, you know?”

“So you are.” Myka hid her smile at Patrick’s concern for her. She loved him so much.

“I promise you I can take any worry away from Myka where money is concerned.”

“Are you rich or something?”

“Patrick! You shouldn’t ask people things like that,” Myka scolded.

“But why?” he asked, wide-eyed.

She sighed.

“It’s okay, Myka,” Galen assured her. “I worked hard for a long time, Patrick. I invested well and was responsible with my money so that I could assure my future. But, Patrick, you must learn that not everyone who works hard has the luxury of becoming wealthy. Myka works harder than anyone I know, and while she may not be rich, she provides everything you need. Money is not what is important in life. Having people who love you, a family that you can count on, friends—those are the important things in life.”

Patrick nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I guess you are right. Although it would be nice if Myka didn’t have to work so much.”

“I agree. I can assure you that she won’t have to work as much, and that she and I both can focus on spending more time with you and being a family.”

“In that case, I think you should marry her now,” Patrick said matter-of-factly.

Myka gasped.

Galen chuckled. “I already tried to get her to, but she said she wanted to wait for a while. We have to respect her feelings. That’s part of being a family. Respecting one another.”

“Yeah, I guess, but I still don’t see any reason you two can’t get married now.”

“Okay. This is not gang-up-on-Myka time.” She ruffled Patrick’s hair. “Are you sure you wouldn’t mind if Galen and I got married?”

“I already said. Course not.”

She smiled and hugged him. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

* * *

The next two weeks flew by as Myka spent all her free time planning a small wedding for her and Galen. Patrick and Galen had spent most days together and formed a bond she was proud of. Galen was always patient, kind, and understanding with him, but firm when the situation called for it. She decided she’d compromise with Galen about his wishes to get married right away and hers to wait a while.

Two and a half weeks wasn’t much, but it had given her and Patrick some time to settle in with Galen. Although, she was pretty sure settling wasn’t the correct term where Galen was concerned. He’d respected her wishes about them not sleeping together under the same roof to set a good example for Patrick, but that hadn’t stopped them from making love anywhere and anytime they could sneak away without the possibility of getting caught. She’d quickly found out that no place on the farm was safe from Galen’s sinful mouth and pleasure-inducing caresses.

She smiled when she heard Galen and Patrick’s laughter from the living room. She would become Mrs. Soloman tomorrow. Butterflies danced in her tummy. She cleared her throat and began the tedious task of checking over every last detail for the wedding and reception. They’d decided to marry at the courthouse, with only her, Galen, Patrick, Betty, and Tom in attendance. After, they’d have a small reception at the community building in town. Everyone who was invited had been instructed to donate to any local charity in lieu of gifts.

She’d been shocked when she found out how wealthy Galen was. They’d had many arguments over that as well. He wanted to buy her and Patrick everything, but she insisted that, while grateful, she didn’t want anything lavish. She’d even had to convince him she’d prefer a much smaller and more practical wedding ring—something she’d be able to wear even while doing chores. He had reluctantly agreed, but had gotten his way where improving the farm was concerned.

She couldn’t deny that after getting used to the idea, she was looking forward to remodeling the old house. Galen had insisted that everything involving the remodel was her choice. She couldn’t wait to turn it into a cozy dream home they could all enjoy while keeping the rustic charm of the original house. She even had a few surprises up her sleeve for her boys. Part of the barn addition would be made into a game-and-media room.

While Galen liked to spend as much time as possible outdoors, she felt it was important for him and Patrick to have a place to hang out together on those days that were too cold or hot or rainy for Patrick to be outside.

She sighed in contentment. She peeked down the hall into the living room to see Patrick sprawled beside Galen as they watched The Three Stooges. Galen looked up at her and winked, and she smiled before closing the door. She fingered the soft material of the dress hanging on the back of the now-closed door. Her wedding dress. It was simple, but elegant. The creamy silk bodice was trimmed with delicate pearl beads. The tapered waist flared gently into a full skirt that ended just below her knee.

After seeing a picture of it in a magazine at Susie’s, she’d instantly fallen in love with it. It hadn’t been the most expensive dress, but just like the wedding ring, expensive simply wasn’t her style. She preferred elegant, classic beauty over bling any day. Her tummy fluttered again. Her nerves weren’t due to marrying Galen—it was a big change in her life, but a good one. Her nerves were due to the looming day of her quickly approaching first shift.

Galen had repeatedly assured her not to worry, but she couldn’t help but do just that. After all, it wasn’t every day that a person turned into a lycan. She’d put on a brave face around Galen, tried not to let her anxiety show, but he’d been able to see through her facade each and every time. She’d intentionally set the wedding date the day before the full moon. She wanted to be married to Galen before she shifted for the first time.

Patrick would be staying at Betty’s house for three days starting the night of the wedding, which would give them a short honeymoon plus time for her to deal with the shift. She had tried to mentally prepare for what would happen to her the best she could, but there was nothing on Earth that could ready her for it. She’d simply set her sights on the happiness Galen had brought to her and Patrick, and deal with the negative thoughts when they came as swiftly as possible.

A soft knock jerked her from her deep thoughts. She wasn’t surprised to find Galen standing at her door when she cracked it open. He had an uncanny way of knowing when she was upset about something even if she was in another room.

“You can’t come in.” She smiled sweetly up at him.

“I know, but don’t think you won’t pay dearly tomorrow night for keeping me out of your bed.” His eyes shimmered down at her.

Her heart fluttered. “I’ve hardly kept you from my bed, Galen,” she whispered. “But I look forward to any . . . punishment you think I deserve.”

“You are too damned tempting, Myka,” he growled low in his throat.

“Don’t think it hasn’t been hard on me either. Patrick still in the living room?”

He nodded. “I think he’s getting tired. He’s starting to doze off. I figured I’d come see the most beautiful woman in the world, who is soon to be my wife, while he falls asleep. Then I’ll carry him to bed.”

She stepped out and closed the door behind her before leaning against it. He put his hands on each side of the casing and crowded her with his huge frame. The heat radiated off him and seeped through her skin.

“Not happening tonight, mister. Surely we can control ourselves the night before our wedding.”

When he bent down and blew softly over her ear before nibbling her lobe, she thought maybe she was wrong. Maybe even one night away from him was too much to ask.

“How about if you come to the barn tonight after Patrick is safely in bed and I simply hold you in my arms?” he murmured next to her ear before kissing a path along her jaw.

“I have serious doubts”—she moaned when he nipped at her neck—”about us sharing a bed and only cuddling.”

“I think we can manage.” He straightened and stared down at her.

She reached out and ran her fingers along his chest, down his abs, then lower, stopping just above where his cock was now straining against his jeans. She arched a brow. “You think so?”

“I have amazing self-control when I put my mind to it.”

“I have good self-control too,” she said indignantly.

“Shall we put it to the test?” He shifted until his body pressed against hers.

“Deal,” she choked out.

He leaned down and treated her to a toe-curling, scorching kiss. “Deal.”

She groaned when he turned and swaggered back to the living room. He was so going to pay for that later.

Chapter Fifteen

“You look absolutely beautiful, dear.” Betty hugged Myka.

“Yes. She does,” Galen said as he walked up beside her.

“Thank you.” She wasn’t used to so many compliments and tried to hide the blush heating her cheeks. “Have either of you seen Patrick lately?”

“I believe he’s helping himself to another piece of cake.” Galen chuckled.

“I better go and make sure it’s the last piece, or you will be up with him all night with an upset tummy, Betty.”

“I’ll go. You visit with Betty.” Galen bent down and kissed her on the cheek before making his way toward Patrick.

“My, my but he is a looker,” Betty said before blushing.

“He is, isn’t he?” Myka ogled him as he walked away.

He’d worn dark jeans, a dark blue shirt with a blue tie that was two shades lighter, and a black jacket—the latter he’d removed a few minutes earlier. She was positive she’d never see another man who could wear a pair of jeans like Galen. His lean hips and perfect ass were swoon worthy, and if she were a maiden from times past, she was sure she’d faint dead away at such a glorious specimen of male flesh.

Earlier, she’d gotten ready at the courthouse to keep Galen from seeing her dress before they got married. While Patrick had proudly walked her down the short aisle to her waiting groom, her knees had nearly turned to jelly when Galen’s heated gaze roamed her from head to toe and back. He made her feel sexy, and she couldn’t wait to get him home. She still owed him for the relentless torture he’d put her through last night with his kisses and caresses, then withholding what she really ached for.

It had been her own fault. She’d been the one who’d wanted to forgo making love last night, the one who’d issued the challenge on self-control. She’d lost terribly. Tonight, however, she planned to make him do a little suffering before she gave them both what they wanted. He wasn’t the only one who could tease mercilessly. Not to mention, she’d enjoy every bit of the playful payback knowing it would end with them both replete and happy.

Although she was no fool. She’d have to remain focused the entire time because one touch of his clever fingers, and she’d go up in flames. Lose all logic thought. Give in to the pleasure only Galen could bring her. When he glanced her way, she smiled wickedly at him. She wasn’t surprised when the corner of his lips turned up in a sexy smile as if he already knew what she was up to.

“I have lots of activities planned for me and Patrick. You don’t worry about him at all.”

Betty’s voice brought her brain out of its lust-induced fog. “I don’t worry when he’s with you. You have been wonderful with him and are a cherished friend to me.”

Tom came up and gave Myka a hug. “Congratulations, Myka.”

“Thank you, Tom.”

“I think you picked a good one.”

“I think so too,” she said.

“Hello, Betty.”

“Hi, Tom.”

“I was wondering if you would like to go to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

“I would love to, but I’m watching Patrick for the next few days.”

Tom smiled warmly. “That’s no problem. Bring him along.”

“Oh.” Betty grinned, then blushed. “That would be nice.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Tom said before turning back to Myka. “I’m going to go congratulate Galen now.”

She didn’t miss the way Betty watched him as he made his way to Galen. Could there be something going on between Betty and Tom? She raised a brow and smiled. They would make a cute couple, and they both deserved happiness. She couldn’t think of two nicer people as a couple.

Three hours later, after much mingling and laughing, Myka and Galen were saying their good-byes. Myka was sure many of the townspeople would hang around after they left since there weren’t a lot of options for entertainment close by.

“You be a good boy for Betty.” Myka kissed, then hugged Patrick.

“I will be. I always have fun at Betty’s house. I just wish Leroy was still here,” Patrick said.

“I think you’ll have more opportunities to play with Leroy in the future.”

“I sure hope so.”

“Come with me to the truck. I have something for you before we leave.” Galen motioned for Patrick to follow him. “You should come too, Myka.”

She glanced at Betty with raised brows. “What is he up to?”

“You’ll just have to find out, dear.”

They followed Galen, Patrick asking him what he had for him every step of the way, and Galen patiently telling him he’d have to wait and see. When they got to the truck, Galen reached into the bed and pulled out a big, fluffy ball of fur. Patrick screeched in delight when Galen handed him the red hound dog puppy.

“For me?” Patrick cried out as he hugged the puppy that was nearly as big as he was to his chest.

“Yep. All for you.”

“How did you find the time to do this, Galen?” she asked with a smile.

“Tom mentioned something about a place he was delivering hay to that had puppies. When I said I thought that Patrick would love one, he offered to pick this little guy up this morning before the wedding.”

“He’s not such a little guy, but he’s adorable.” She bent and gave him a pet and a kiss on the head. “Look at all of those wrinkles.”

“I’m going to call him Oscar,” Patrick said.

“You can name him whatever you like.” Galen grinned at Myka, and her heart melted.

“Thank you, Galen!”

Galen squatted to his knees, and Patrick jumped into his arms with the puppy. Galen gave him a big bear hug, careful not to squish him or Oscar, then sat them down. “See you in a couple days, kiddo.”

“But I don’t want to leave Oscar,” Patrick said.

“You don’t have to. You can bring him with you,” Betty said from behind Myka.

Myka turned to face her. “That’s an awful lot of work. I can’t impose on you like that.”

“Psht. I already knew about the pup this morning. It was my idea for him to stay along with Patrick. You can’t expect the boy to be separated from Oscar after just getting him.”

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m positive. Now why don’t you newlyweds be on your way?”

“Thank you.” Myka kissed Betty on the cheek. “You’re the best.”

“Yes, you are.” Galen kissed her on the cheek as well.

“Bye, kiddo.” Galen ruffled Patrick’s hair and patted the pup.

“Bye. Make sure Myka gets lots of rest.”

One of Galen’s brows arched. “Why does Myka need lots of rest?” He glanced over at her.

“Betty said I needed to stay with her for a few days after the wedding because getting married makes you real tired. She said you two will need some time together to recover.”

Galen slid Myka a sly grin. “Maybe Betty is right. Getting married is tiring.”

“Hey!” she protested.

“But I think it’s also because newlyweds need to spend some time alone together to get used to the idea of being married.” Galen smirked.

Patrick frowned and pursed his lips in thought before smiling suddenly. “Yeah. I guess I can understand that.”

Myka kissed and hugged Patrick before he carried Oscar over to Betty. Betty smiled and waved.

“That was wonderful of you. I think Oscar is perfect. I haven’t seen Patrick quite that happy in a long time.”

“It’s time for all of us to be happy, Myka. We’ve all been through enough. Now we have each other.”

“Yes. It is time for us all to be happy. We are going to be a great family. Now, I’m ready if you are, Mr. Soloman.”

He bent down and whispered beside her ear. “I’m more ready than you’ll ever know, Mrs. Soloman.”

The ride home was going to be interesting to say the least. She was going to make sure Galen was as hot as she’d been last night. And the drive back would give her just the right amount of time to get him worked up enough to give him a preview of what he’d done to her last night. Except tonight there would be no stopping. Tonight there would be no holding back.

* * *

After Galen helped Myka into the truck, he went around to the other side, opened the door, draped his jacket on the headrest to let it hang behind the seat, and got behind the wheel before closing the door. After he started the engine and put it in drive, she promptly scooted close to him and placed her hand on his thigh. She looked down at the simple, but elegant channel set band on her finger.

“I love you, Galen.” She snuggled against his side when he wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.

“I can’t begin to explain how happy you make me, angel. I love you too. You’re more than I deserve. And while you’re all soft and content, snuggled against me and pliant, I wanted to tell you that we are going into town next week and buying a new truck.”

“We’ll see.” She drew tiny circles on his leg with her index finger.

He started to say something else, but suddenly went quiet when she trailed her finger higher until it was a scant inch from his groin. She kept her eyes down, focused on what she was doing, and smiled at his reaction. She loved that she could turn him on as easily as he did her. She drew another small circle, then continued upward, avoiding his cock—just barely—and traced the lines of his abs one by one.

She slid two of the lower buttons on his shirt free, slipped her hand inside the opening, and splayed her fingers over his stomach. His body tensed, and a quiet growl vibrated through his chest under her ear. She rimmed his navel before tracking the thin line of hair that disappeared into the waist of his jeans.

“Myka,” he said gruffly. “You’re killing me here.”

She suddenly stilled her hand, and barely kept a giggle from escaping, when he let out a groan of frustration. She looked up at him and raised a brow.

“The last thing I want is to kill you,” she purred.

“Mykkkka,” he growled.

She sat up on her knees, pulled her dress up to her thighs, then straddled his lap, careful not to block his line of sight on the road. She was happy that the seat was back all the way to accommodate his long legs. It gave her plenty of wiggle room between him and the steering wheel. She bent and nibbled at his ear before kissing his neck.

She breathed him in. He always smelled delicious. His scent comforted her, but at the same time ignited a fire deep inside her. She licked a path back to his ear and whispered, “Is that better?”

“You’re playing with fire, angel. Don’t think that I won’t stop right here in the middle of the road and have my way with you.”

That might worry her a bit if they were on a busier road, but they were well past any other residences. Only her place lay miles ahead, and it was rare to see another vehicle this close to her house. Even the small chance of getting caught might have stopped her a few weeks ago, but she was feeling particularly daring at the moment.

She rocked against him, and moaned when his hard cock nudged against her. Even the layers of clothing separating them couldn’t hide his enthusiasm. Wetness seeped between her thighs. Starting out, her intentions had been to tease him, give a little payback for last night, but her plans had suddenly changed course. All she wanted now was for him to bury that thick hardness inside her until she screamed his name.

Desperate to get him inside her, she reached for the buttons on his jeans, but before she could pop more than two open, he stopped the truck and slammed it into park. Her breath hitched when she looked into his glowing eyes.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you, angel.”

“Never,” she said right before his mouth crashed down on hers.

His tongue delved inside her mouth, while his fingers tangled in her hair and tugged her head back, allowing him a better angle to deepen the kiss. His other hand traveled over the silk stockings covering her calf and knee, then rested high on top of her bare thigh.

He gave the tie holding her stockings up a gentle tug. “You have no idea how sexy I think garters are,” he murmured.

She moaned in response and slightly tilted her hips, urging his fingers to continue upward on their journey, and he didn’t disappoint. His thumb rested against her clit, and he stroked her back and forth over the panties that were now drenched with the moisture of her arousal.

“So wet just for me,” he said against her lips.

He sucked in a breath when she reached between them and cupped him through his jeans. “So hard just for me,” she whispered. “Take me now, Galen.”

“No need to ask twice, angel.”

Within seconds, he’d popped the rest of the buttons on his jeans and had them around his knees. She gasped when he reached under her dress and ripped her panties off with a flick of the wrist. She shifted up on her knees so the crown of his cock nudged at her slick opening, and he gripped her hips to position her before pulling her down over him.

She cried out as he filled her, stretched her until she thought she’d rip apart. And when her bottom finally rested on the tops of his thighs, a deep shudder shook her body.

“Easy, angel.”

She let the lids she had been squeezing tight flutter open and suddenly felt as if she were falling into the great depths of the glowing hazel of his eyes. But when his lips captured hers, she soared freely, as Galen was her anchor.

The pressure inside her built as he deepened the kiss, and she struggled to get to her knees, but he held her firmly over him, not allowing her retreat. His cock swelled impossibly big inside her, and her need for him grew with every second, every breath, every flick of his talented tongue.

When he broke the kiss, she dug her fingernails into his shoulders in protest.

“Angel. I don’t want to rush this, but you are about to kill me here, and I would feel guilty about ripping that beautiful dress off you. This is going to have to be fast and hard until we get home and I can get you naked.”

Heat ignited through her veins when he pulled her up until only the head of his cock remained inside her—then he stopped again. “Please, Galen. I don’t care how fast or slow it is as long as it is with you.”

“Hang on, angel. The ride is about to get bumpy.”

She’d barely gotten her arms wrapped around his neck when he slammed up into her. His hard thickness dragged across every nerve ending, sparking each cell in her body to life. The pleasure was already so intense the threat of an overload was buzzing through her veins.

She screamed when he retreated, then thrust back inside her to the hilt several more times with quick, hard, and thorough pumps of his hips. Her breath whooshed from her lungs in pants with each slap of his solid thighs against her bottom. It was as if she were riding a galloping stallion over unlevel terrain, minus the fervent orgasm that was now threatening to burst from her.

His fingers dug into her skin as he guided and held her for his glorious impaling. She crashed down over him again and again. A fine sheen of sweat broke on the surface of her skin, and his hot breaths sent cool chills over her cheek and neck. The pressure built, and the waves grew and threatened to pummel her. She was about to fly apart, and her muscles twitched around him, marking the beginning of her release.

“That’s it. You’re getting close. Come for me, Myka.”

It was as if he was tuned in to her body, as if he could read it with infinite ease, as if he knew exactly what she needed and when.

Three more thrusts of his hips and she did as he asked. She came so hard the scream bubbling in her throat lodged like a knot. She opened her mouth, but only a discernible squeak escaped as her orgasm swelled through her in ripples. He cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth to his, drinking in the cries she could get past the lump in her throat. His tongue stroked hers lazily as he exacted every last wave of pleasure from her.

Just before her body went limp, he broke the kiss, pressed his forehead against hers, and growled low as his cock swelled and his release pulsed inside her. Her inner muscles clenched around him tightly with each hot jet of his seed, and she groaned. He pumped his hips upward three more times, then stilled, and his hot breath fanned over her cheek.

“I have no words for how that felt. I don’t think there are words to describe how wonderful that was,” she whispered.

“Epic,” he breathed before chuckling deeply. He kissed her, then pulled her against him, his cock still inside her, hot and almost as hard as when they first started making love.

“How are you still . . . ?” She wiggled on his lap to let him know what she meant.

“It’s a lycan thing.” He reached around her and started the truck.

She started to get off him, but he wrapped one arm around her and held her securely against him. She smiled and laid her head over his heart, enjoying the strong, steady rhythm beneath her ear.

“This can’t be safe at all.” She gave a halfhearted laugh because she had no intention of moving.

“Sometimes safety is overrated,” he said. “Besides, I will never let anything hurt you again.”

He drove slowly the rest of the way back to her house. Every bump, every rut, every rock in the road bounced her on his lap. By the time they made it home, he was so hard inside her, she thought she’d go crazy with wanting him again. How could she want him this badly after she’d just had him minutes earlier? She smiled as he put the truck in park, turned the engine off, and flexed his hips upward.

If she was sure of only three things about this man, they would be that she loved him, he loved her, and whatever this need was between them would never die.

“It’s time to get you out of this dress. And while I hate to leave you for even a moment, I don’t think it will end well for either one of us if I try to carry you to the house with my pants around my knees.”

She laughed and eased off his lap and onto the seat. He opened his door, slid out, pulled his jeans up over his hips without buttoning them, then reached for her. She sighed when he lifted her and carried her toward the house.

“I can walk, you know?” But she really didn’t want to.

“Yeah, but I like to carry you. Isn’t it tradition for the groom to carry the bride over the threshold?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not one who likes to break tradition, angel.”

“Since I love being snuggled up against your chest, I’ll agree with you this time.”

“I love you pressed against anything of mine.” He kissed her cheek.

He unlocked the door, finagled them both through it with admirable ease, then toed it shut before carrying her down the hall to her room. She smiled. Their room. He let her slide slowly down the front of his body until her feet touched the floor. His warmth soaked into her skin, and his hard muscles pressed into her softer curves.

“We’re going to have to do something about that, fast.” He nodded toward the bed.

“About what?”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’m big, and a queen-sized bed isn’t going to work, especially for all the things I have in mind to do to you on it.”

She grinned up at him. “You might be right, but I think we can make do for now. Can’t we?”

“Angel, I can make do with anything if it’s between not making do and having you. I’m creative.”

“And talented.” She sucked in a breath when his hazel eyes began to glow.

“I would say the same of you.”

He bent and placed his warm lips against her mouth. She leaned into him, and when she sighed, he slipped his tongue inside. His taste flooded her senses, and she swayed. He lifted his head, cupped her cheek, and stroked gently along her jawline before easing her around. His fingers went to work on the buttons at the back of her dress. He was surprisingly adept at getting the tiny pearls unhooked. She would have thought he’d fumble with his big fingers, but he once again proved how efficient he was.

“Is there anything you aren’t good at?” she asked.

He turned her to face him again, and she clutched the now-gaping dress to her breasts. He traced one finger down the column of her neck, then along her collarbone. He bent down and nibbled along the same path his finger had just taken, and the familiar pressure began to build inside her yet again.

“Chess,” he murmured against her skin.

“Huh?”

“I’m not good at chess.”

She pushed him away and gave him her sternest look, trying hard not to smirk. “Oh no. You should have told me that before we got married. I’m not sure I can be with a man who can’t play chess.”

She took two steps back, and he slowly stalked her. Her heart raced at the fierce look on his face. He was playing with her. She could see the way his lips slightly turned up at one side, but she nearly forgot all about the joke when he put his predator face on. She loved being his prey. He was dominant, and she liked it that way because she knew he’d be more than willing to allow her to take the lead whenever she wanted.

He’d never force her to do anything she wasn’t comfortable with. Never demean her. No matter how he took her, she felt loved and cherished. He caught her when the backs of her legs hit the bed, and she gasped when he spread her arms wide and the dress dropped to the floor around her feet in a soft heap. She blushed knowing that the lacy white bra, garters, garter belts, and silk hose were revealed—minus the panties that were probably somewhere on the floor of the truck. He growled low in his throat, and her toes almost curled in pleasure. He always made her feel beautiful when he looked at her with heat burning in those glorious glowing eyes.

“I’ll learn,” he said quietly.

“Learn what?” She frowned.

“How to play chess.”

His eyes slowly roamed her from head to toe, then back before resting on her face. Her skin tingled, and the pressure built, making her inner muscles clench in anticipation of having him inside her again. She looked down and licked her lips. He was still hard, the open buttons of his jeans barely containing his thick cock, which was half exposed. He growled again, and she looked up at him.

“You’re testing my patience and control looking at me like that.” He raised one dark brow. “And looking like that.” He gestured to her lingerie before tracing one finger along the top edge of her lacy bra, over the swell of one exposed breast.

“I like testing your patience.” She smiled up at him. “I think I’d like to taste—um, test—it some more.”

She tugged and pushed at him until they’d switched positions, and his back was to the bed now. The bottom few buttons were still undone on his shirt from earlier, and she hurriedly unbuttoned the rest—less elegantly as he’d managed the buttons on her dress. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders, and she pushed his jeans down off his hips.

The swollen head of his cock glistened with pre-come, and she licked her lips again, the action rewarded with another growl. She shoved at him, and he sat on the edge of the mattress. She dropped to her knees and removed his shoes and socks to allow the jeans to slide off to the floor. She placed a kiss on one knee, then nibbled her way along the inside of his hard thigh.

The fingers of his right hand tangled in her hair. He urged her upward, and when she reached his cock, she wrapped her hand around the base before stroking up, then slowly back down. Not able to resist one second longer, she licked him. His flavor hit her taste buds, salty, masculine . . . Galen. She licked him again before sucking him into her mouth, then frowned when he tugged her up.

“Sorry, angel. But I’ve been fantasizing about ravishing every inch of your lovely body since last night.”

“You did ravish every inch of my body last night--well, almost every inch,” she said in frustration.

He chuckled. “Exactly. And now I want that last little part that I neglected.”

She squealed when he flipped her to her back and pinned her underneath him. She couldn’t move a muscle, but wasn’t frightened. If she protested, he’d release her in an instant, but she didn’t want freed. She liked being firmly cocooned in his warmth.

He leaned up on one elbow and traced a path over her chest, down between the cleavage of her breasts. “You look beautiful in lace,” he said quietly.

“You look beautiful in nothing,” she whispered.

“I’ll settle for handsome.”

“You can settle for handsome. I’ll settle for beautiful. You are beautiful to me.” She smiled up at him.

He shook his head and tried unsuccessfully to hide the smile lifting his full lips. He nuzzled the top of one breast before gently nipping the pebbled nipple through the lace.

“Mmmm.” He fingered the front clasp of the bra. “Beautiful and practical.” He flicked the clasp open with expertise to let her breasts spill free.

He pulled one nipple into his mouth, licked it, then blew on it. Goose bumps broke over her skin, and she arched upward, begging for more. He obliged by sucking the stiff peak into his mouth once again. This time, he bit down gently, coaxing a moan from her. She dug her fingers through his hair and firmly into his scalp, careful not to claw him with her nails.

She squirmed under him, but his big body still blanketing her left her little wiggle room. She was his prisoner—a willing prisoner. She sucked in a breath and squeezed her eyes shut as his lips, teeth, and mouth sweetly tormented her. She encouraged him with her fingers and gave in to the pressure as it built inside her.

He leisurely toyed with one nipple, then the other, back and forth until each touch to the sensitive tips wrung whimpers of pleasure from her throat. Just as she thought she could bear no more, he licked a path to her navel, where he rimmed it several times before moving down. He stroked his finger over the delicate lace before unsnapping the garter belts from her stockings. She moved her fingers from his hair to his shoulders, where she dug the tips into hard muscle.

He sifted his fingers through the short, neat curls on her mound before spreading her wide with his thumbs. She gasped. A heady sense of excitement, mixed with a hint of embarrassment, flooded her at being completely exposed to him.

He gave her one long, excruciatingly slow lick along her slickened folds and growled.

Chapter Sixteen

Galen had never tasted anything as sweet, as delicious as Myka. How he’d lived countless years without her, he’d never know. What was certain was that he would not endure one single moment of his future without her. He swirled his tongue around her sensitive clit, and she quivered under him, her reaction both satisfying and igniting. How could he make her understand that watching her come undone underneath him, witnessing her responses to his touch, his kisses, was as gratifying to him as his own release? Maybe more so.

Nothing could bring him more joy than seeing Myka come alive under him. The fact that he, and he alone, could bring her such pleasure was humbling, but also gave him a serious ego stroking. Not the type of ego that cued assholishness, but the kind that could randomly bring a smile to his lips, the kind that put a little more swagger in his step because his woman was pleased.

He hoped he did the same for her confidence because she had the ability to make him tremble with her gifted mouth and hands. No woman had ever taken him to the level of pleasure that Myka could. When they were together, everyone ceased to exist. When they made love, they became one. They resided on a plateau of love-and-passion-induced gratification that nothing could touch.

He slid each silk stocking down, following with a trail of kisses over the exposed flesh. After, he pulled the garter belt off, and she was finally completely nude. Damn but she was achingly gorgeous. He gripped her thighs firmly and pushed them wider, baring every inch of her glistening folds to his hungry eyes. He wedged his shoulders between her knees to keep her exposed, then spread her silken lips wide once again with his thumbs. He nearly forgot how to breathe at the beauty of her, but her pleading whimpers and nails digging into his shoulders spurred him back into action.

“The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered before dipping his head to feast on her.

Her pleas quickly turned to sobs as he stoked her higher, closer to her orgasm, with his lips, teeth, and tongue. He slid two fingers inside her and nearly came when her muscles clamped hard around him. She was tight and so wet for him. He inched deeper and spread his fingers a little at a time, readying her for his cock. He swirled his tongue over her clit, and her body yielded to his fingers.

“Galen! Please!”

He ignored her pleas, urging her closer to her release. Each time her muscles clenched, he’d retreat and allow her a few seconds to recover before thrusting back home. She was close, and he wanted nothing more than to tumble her over the cliff and watch her soar. But he wanted to be inside her even more when she shattered. Wanted to watch her lovely face as she came. Watch her orgasm take hold and bliss wash over her features.

He reared up, and she gave a low, keening cry that called to his heart. He understood what she needed, understood the urgency she felt, as he felt it too. She readily opened her legs wide, welcoming him as he nestled his hips between her thighs. When his cock nudged at her opening, they both groaned. She reached down and curled her small hand around him, guiding him inside where he belonged, where they both craved him to be.

She dug her heels high into the backs of his thighs and arched her hips up to accept him. He stilled and stared down at her, framing her face with his hands. Her passion-glazed blue-violet eyes slowly opened.

“I need you,” she said huskily.

“I need you too, angel. I just wanted to see those beautiful eyes while I make love to you.” He kissed her.

When she strained toward him, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. She linked her fingers behind his neck and fervently kissed him back. He leaned up on his forearms, she clutched at his biceps for purchase, and when her eyes rested on him once again, he thrust home. She cried out, and he growled in answer.

“I thought it was a curse when I found you, angel,” he grunted as he thrust home again.

“Wh-Why?” she gasped as he continued to pound his hips against her.

“I had been on the run. I knew if I stayed, I could possibly be putting you in danger. That’s why I was determined to leave. I needed to get things straightened out before I could come back for you.”

“We could have worked it out together if you had confided in me.” He slammed into her again. “Ah! That feels amazing.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you what I was. I was afraid you’d think I was a monster. I was afraid you’d reject me. Then there was Patrick. I had planned to go, but Patrick got the fever, and I didn’t want to leave you while you were distressed. After that, it was too late. My pursuers caught up with me.”

“Stop.” When he stilled his hips, she choked out, “No. Not that.” She arched against him, and he started the rhythm with his hips again. “We’ve been through this. Stop blaming yourself. I’ve forgiven you. I accept what happened. You need to do the same.”

“I don’t know if I can. My selfishness got you hurt.” He slowed to a lazy thrusting and rubbed his thumb over the fading bite mark on her shoulder. “I should have been man enough to walk away.”

She shoved at his chest gently, but firmly. His brows raised, but he rolled onto his back, taking her with him, careful not to break the connection of their bodies. She sat astride him and began rocking slowly back and forth.

“Galen?” She froze, as he had done earlier, until his gorgeous eyes rested upon her face. He gripped her hips and eased her up off him, then pulled her slowly back down over his impossibly hard cock. “Why can you use the dramatic pause to get your point across, but I’m not allowed to?” She smiled down at him.

“Because,” he said in a low, gravelly voice before tugging her up, then guiding her back down over him again.

“Ohhhh. That explains it.” She leaned forward and placed her palms on his chest before she got serious about riding him.

He watched as her warm skin glowed pink from making love to him, and her breasts swayed tantalizingly just out of reach of his mouth. He leaned up and gave the tip of one nipple a lick, and she bucked her hips over him so hard his eyes nearly crossed. He couldn’t hold out much longer. Each time she sank over him, each clench of her muscles around his cock sent him that much closer to exploding.

“Angel, I can’t wait much longer. Come for me.” He guided her over him faster and faster. Her breaths came in short pants, and her eyes sparkled. A fine sheen of sweat broke over his skin from the control it was taking to keep from coming.

Her body trembled, and she cried out, “So close.”

He wrapped his arms around her, flipped her to her back, reared up, and slammed into her over and over. Her calves were draped over his shoulders, the angle allowing him to go as deep as possible with each thrust. The next stroke and her muscles clamped over him like a vise. She dug her fingers into his forearms and screamed out until her cries turned hoarse. As she hit the aftershock waves of her orgasm, his release exploded from his cock. He yelled out as he pumped hot jets of seed into her body with each grind of his hips. Her dying whimpers and trembling frame told him her release had been no less devastating as his own. He rolled to his side and pulled her to him, smiling when she cuddled against his chest and rested her head on his shoulder.

“There will never be words to describe what I feel when we are together,” she said quietly.

He bent to kiss her gently on the lips. “I agree. Some things just can’t be adequately explained with words.”

“I love you, Galen.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Soloman.”

* * *

Galen sat on the top step of the porch, and Myka sat between his long legs, leaning back against his chest. She had just finished talking to Patrick on the phone before they’d come outside.

“Sounds like Patrick is having a good time at Betty’s.” He lightly massaged her shoulders, and she sighed in contentment.

“Betty is great with him,” she said.

“Good thing he likes Tom as well because I see a possible future for Betty and Tom.”

“You noticed too?” She raised a brow and turned to look at him.

He smiled and nodded. “I doubt anyone else did, but they definitely have some chemistry. I can’t think of two nicer people who deserve one another.”

She shook her head and turned back to stare at the tree line past the pasture. It was almost dusk, and her skin felt as if it itched from the inside out. The sensation had started earlier and intensified with every passing hour. She trembled slightly and hoped Galen hadn’t felt it, but she should have known better. He was too attuned to her. It was nice to have someone who cared about her as Galen did. The only downside was that she could no longer hide from things.

She’d mostly faced the challenges she’d been dealt in life head-on, but occasionally she liked to procrastinate. Pretend that it wasn’t happening before dealing, so to speak. With Galen, there was no pretending something that bothered her didn’t exist. She could see many disagreements between them down the line when her stubbornness kicked in, but the makeup sex would be phenomenal.

She had no doubt his persistence about certain things would get under her skin just as much as her hardheadedness would get under his. But a good argument now and again was all a part of a healthy relationship as far as she was concerned.

“It’ll be okay. I’ll be right here with you,” Galen murmured beside her ear.

She trembled again. “I know. I was thinking about how you always seem to know when something is bothering me. And how that might lead to some disagreements down the line.”

He nipped her neck, and she squealed in delight. “Never. You should never disagree with me.”

She laughed. “You have a lot to learn.”

He chuckled. “Do you really think I’d be happy with a woman who was cowed by my every demand? Who gave in and let me win every argument?”

“I sure hope not because if you would be happy with a woman like that, you picked the wrong one to marry.” She turned her head to capture his lips in a quick kiss when he swooped toward her neck again. “Actually, I was imagining how fun makeup sex would be after our disagreements.”

He growled. “Hmm. I might have to pick an argument with you very soon. Makeup sex sounds appealing.” He nuzzled her hair. “Although if the sex between us gets much better, it might kill us both.”

She started to reply, but a sharp pain shot through her stomach, and she gasped. Her breaths came in ragged pants as she tried to breathe through the inferno now burning inside her.

He pulled her back to his chest and wrapped his arms firmly around her, his mouth close to her ear. “Feel me, angel. Feel my heart beating slow and strong. Feel my steady breathing. Focus on it. Let your body mimic mine.”

She tried, but the pain was nearly unbearable. A tear slid down her cheek. “I’m going to die,” she groaned.

“You are not.” He gave her a gentle shake. “Listen to me, Myka. Listen to my voice. Focus. You can do it. Breathe deep with me.” She did as he said. “Now out. Good. Keep breathing through the pain. It will subside faster if you do.”

Soon the burning sensation had passed, but right on its heels came another pain. This one was worse. Something inside her was clawing at her organs, ripping them to shreds, trying to escape. The tears streamed down her face, and she couldn’t utter a sound as the agony stole her ability to speak.

“Don’t fight it, Myka. This is the only time it will hurt like this. It’s because you have never changed. Because you haven’t fully accepted what you are yet. Welcome the wolf, angel. It is a part of you now. You don’t have to be afraid. Focus. Breathe with me.”

She tried to focus on him, on his voice, and at times it helped her find her way out of the pain. But when the pain was at its peak, she lost all ability to think straight enough to cut through the fog of the excruciating torture tearing her apart from the inside out. Her teeth ached, her fingers curled and uncurled of their own accord, and the tingling sensation grew, making her sensitive skin almost unbearable to touch. She felt herself falling toward the ground, and the last thing she remembered before the blackness claimed her was lying in Galen’s arms, staring up at the full moon that had lazily risen high in the dark sky.

She had no idea how much time had passed before she became aware again. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. She didn’t know, was only happy that the pain had disappeared. She swung her head to the side and backed up slowly when she came face-to-face with a huge chocolate-brown wolf. She tripped and went down hard on her backside. But realization hit her hard when she stared into the hazel eyes of the big wolf.

“Galen?”

“Yes, angel. It’s me. How do you feel?”

“Better now.” Until she realized that she, too, was a wolf.

“Breathe, Myka. It’s okay. I’m here. The worst part is over.”

“How are you talking to me? Wolves can’t talk.”

“We have to have some way of communicating with one another.”

“You mean besides in dreams?”

His deep chuckle echoed in her mind. “Yes. What better way than telepathy?”

“I have a feeling I’m going to be shocked a lot in the next few months.”

“Shocked?”

“Yes. Every time I think you’ve told me everything, I’m wrong. So wrong.”

“You have much to learn. But we’ll take it one day at a time. How about if we simply enjoy tonight? You’ve already been through enough. Let’s have some fun. Shall we?” He turned and loped toward the pasture. “Catch me if you can, angel.”

She laughed and chased him after getting used to being on four paws instead of two legs. Fortunately, it seemed to come natural to her, and she only stumbled a few times.

“Let go, angel. Feel the freedom of the wolf.”

She ran after Galen, working to keep up with him, and she was certain he was holding back. He was no different in wolf form than he was as a man—big, strong, formidable, and predatory. Gorgeous.

He was right. She felt freer than she ever had. She saw things more clearly, heard more acutely—every tiny sound of nature coming to life in her ears. Even though it was dark, the colors of the forest were richer. The shades held more contrast, the scurrying bugs and small animals easily detectable as they tried hard to hide.

“Wait. I thought dogs were color blind.”

“We are not dogs, Myka. Wolves. Nevertheless, you are correct, but don’t forget the wolf is an extension of our human self and vice versa. Humans see color. While the wolf is color blind, his eyesight is exceptional. That incredible eyesight enhances the colors we see from our human side. It is no different than how your instincts and perception will now be sharper while in human form.”

And the smells were incredible. The sharp tang of the evergreens, the rich scent of the dirt, the hint of floral from the last dying flowers of autumn were each discernible from one another.

After hours of frolicking in the forest, they turned to head back home. She was exhausted, but Galen seemed as if he’d barely broken a sweat—or whatever it was that wolves did when tired.

“How do I change back?” She stared at Galen from across the porch.

“Concentrate. Picture your human form in your mind, and the rest will take care of itself.”

She closed her eyes, and after a few moments, she could feel the change rush through her. This time the shift was uncomfortable and slightly painful, but tolerable. Nothing like the first time. When she opened her eyes, Galen was standing in front of her as naked as she was.

“That’s a bit inconvenient, isn’t it?” She gestured at their nudity.

“We usually hide a change or two of clothes around where we shift, just in case.”

“That’s a good idea.” She nodded.

He reached for her, pulled her to him, and wrapped his arms around her. She squeezed him tightly, and he grunted.

“You’ll need to be careful with your strength around Patrick from now on,” he said after placing his lips against the top of her head.

“Did I hurt you?” She stepped back.

“No. I only want you to be aware.”

“What if I do hurt Patrick? I couldn’t stand it if I did.” She hugged her arms around her middle.

“Not going to happen, Myka.” Galen pulled her back to him.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because you are a wonderful mother to him. Your instincts are sharp, and whether you are consciously thinking about your strength or not, your subconscious and your wolf will always be there in the background, protecting the ones you love.”

“I hope so,” she whispered.

“Stop worrying. Look how far you’ve come. Has any of it been that unbearable?”

“The first shift was a little . . . rough.”

He hugged her tighter. “I’m sorry you had to go through that. It won’t be like that anymore. After a while, it will become second nature to you. Eventually, you won’t notice what little discomfort remains from shifting.”

“No. You are right. After the initial pain, it was amazing. Seeing the forest, nature—the world—through different eyes. It was amazing . . . liberating.”

“Just wait until we make love in wolf form,” he breathed against her ear.

“We can do that?” She spun and looked up at him.

“Yes.” He chuckled. “But I don’t think you’re ready for that quite yet.”

She frowned. He was right, but damned if she was going to let him know that. She smiled sweetly up at him. “How would you know?”

She stood on tiptoe, linked her arms around his neck, and kissed him. His scent and taste hit her full force, their first kiss with her heightened senses. Good lord. If that’s only a kiss, what will the sex be like? She hadn’t imagined it could get any better than it already was, even though he’d said it would. Actually, she doubted it could get better. Most likely only intensify. How the hell was she going to survive it?

His cock grew thick and hard and pressed against her stomach. “Anytime, anywhere, anyhow, angel,” he said against her lips.

“Time is now. Where is my bed. How is any way you’d like. I love you, Galen.” She snuggled against him when he lifted her and carried her inside.

“I love you too, angel.”

The End