The Mermaid's Mate (2 page)

Chapter Two

Marian Hartley screamed as chunks of Were Mountain crashed into the river, filling it with dirt and debris, clouding the once-clear stream. She spun around and swam back the way she came, desperation clawing its way through her. Her tail pounded the water hard, propelling her downstream, toward her territory, and safety.

She shouldn’t have come, at least not before the storm. She should’ve waited for the rain surge to fill the river more fully, but her Emperor had ordered her to figure out what the wolves were planning at the base of the mountain, and she wanted to get her job over with.

The last time she was ordered to do something like this, it hadn’t ended well. She’d come to Were territory, spent too much time here, forgotten about her mission, and had lost her heart to a werewolf.

Hell if that would happen again.

But now was not the time to be thinking about Timber and the way he’d heartlessly broken up with her and ordered her back to the sea.

This time she was getting in, getting the information she needed and getting out as quickly as possible. That’d be a whole lot easier, had a massive rockslide not blocked the river!

Confusion swirled around Marian, chilling the blood rushing through her veins. Something warned her that the mountain’s collapse was not natural. No, there’d have to be a reason for a rockslide to accompany such a deafening boom.

The rockslide had to be caused by something...
someone
, she corrected.

As far as Marian knew, she was the only mermaid in the area—others would be stupid to swim this far upriver, unless they were following the Emperor’s orders as she was. Dragons weren’t known for traveling this far into the heart of the Were Mountain range. And the werewolves wouldn’t blow up their own mountain, would they?

So who, then?

Once Marian was a safe distance away, she breached the water’s surface. Her blond hair swept over her shoulders and flattened against her breasts. The storm had arrived, dumping buckets of rain, dimpling the water in large, splashing pockets. It wouldn’t be long before the river surged, filling this gorge with rushing water.

“Holy Emperor.” Marian gasped, her delicate hand shaking as she pressed it against her mouth.

The entire side of the mountain had broken away from the rest, as if some invisible giant had taken an ax and sliced away a huge section, revealing clean, layered earth beneath it.

“Who the hell would do something like this?”

As she settled back into the water, her tail fanning gently beneath her, Marian got the strangest feeling...tiny, minute vibrations in the water brushed against her legs and hummed against her chest. The vibrations were constant, but erratic, and felt a lot like someone was thrashing around in the water.

Someone or something was trapped upstream.

Diving beneath the waves, Marian searched through the settling dirt for the cause of the movement. Had she been mistaken? Was there another mermaid hiding in the murk? If there was another mermaid, they’d be hurt. Trapped beneath the rocks.

Careful so she wouldn’t get caught by a boulder herself, Marian swam into the dark water, sweeping her arms in wide motions to clear her way through. Vibrations continued to lash around her, landing on her skin in an ominous layer of goose bumps.

Despite the quivering in her bones and the shallowing of the river, Marian pushed on, winding round and round the new, boulder-chunked riverbed. The water cleared. Muffles of a deep voice hit Marian’s ears.

Following the sound of the grunts, Marian raced upstream. The water became so shallow, the hard whip of her tail fin hit rock bottom with each desperate push. She could shift into Mer—or human—form and wade through until she found the person in danger, but she could move faster this way. If she got into danger, she could swim more quickly than any werewolf or dragon. If this was some kind of twisted trap, her best bet for escape was to keep her fins, and her wits, about her. Besides, the only way she was going to be able to see through the cloudy, rock-strewn river, was to be down in it, fanning away the silt with her arms and tail.

How long would it take for the rain to flood this whole area? The fresh water would help her see more clearly and the rush would sweep the debris downriver.

As Marian closed in on a giant plume of dirt, the grunts quieted. She could hear the slow pitter-patter of their heartbeat fading into the rush of the river. Could almost sense their strength waning as the water overtook them. Whoever it was didn’t have long to live; they’d been underwater for too long.

Spinning around, Marian rolled her body, head to fin, using the long length of her tail to fan the plume farther upriver.
There!
A man was trapped beneath a heavy chunk of stone. His legs were pinned, his arms wrapped around the stone as if he’d tried to pry it off himself. By the time she swam to his side, his torso had gone limp and his head had fallen back.

Marian’s blood froze as her gaze raked over the man.

Timber.

She could never mistake that strong swoop of jaw, and the shadow of stubble that he liked to keep there. She could never forget the hard cut of his cheekbones, the almond shape of his eyes, the fullness of his lips, his dark, razor-cut hair, or the impossibly wide span of his shoulders. He’d grown taller, wider, and it seemed his arms had exploded with bulges of tan muscle, but he was the same man she remembered. He was cut bad, his cheek sliced open, a large bulge on the top of his head streaming blood into the river.

Instincts kicking into overdrive, Marian slipped her arms under the boulder and struggled to lift it. The thing wouldn’t budge. She bent her tail beneath her for support, took a deep breath and fought to move the boulder. Even an inch might grant Timber the space he needed to slip beneath it.

Nothing.

She searched for help, downriver as far as she could see, and through the rippling surface of the water to the mountain towering above them. As far as she could tell, Timber was alone. If that was the case, he had to have been the one to cause the blast. But why?

Now wasn’t the time to question.

Timber’s body convulsed, as if it just now realized the threat, and his chest ballooned. He was going to breathe...only he was going to breathe water instead of the air his body needed.

Lurching forward, Marian caught his mouth, and filled his lungs with the air they craved. Her stomach flipped at the contact. His lips were petal soft, softer than she expected, stirring something in her chest. Her heart fluttered and caught as she filled him with air once more. His lips responded to hers, softening, opening up, though his eyes remained closed and his body limp.

Torrential rain pounded over them, thundering onto the river’s surface, drowning out the sound of Marian’s pounding heart. Rain flooded the river, creating the massive storm surge she’d anticipated.

Marian slanted her mouth over Timber’s and breathed in and out, ignoring the need slicing through her. She wanted to slip her tongue into his mouth, and sweep deep inside to taste the man who’d been the only one to drive her wild. And even though she knew she shouldn’t touch him any more than absolutely necessary, Marian cradled Timber’s neck in her hands, and scraped her fingers over the hard whiskers of hair on the back of his head.

She hadn’t realized how much she missed the feel of his lips on hers until this moment.

Memories that she’d buried beneath the surface swelled into the forefront of her mind. Timber had been powerful, controlling her body with a single searing look, or the ghost of a feathering touch. He’d been her first kiss and her first love. Their chemistry had been undeniable, and they’d barely been able to keep their hands off each other, though they’d never made love. Every minute they’d shared together had been driven by a primal need that clawed its way through her—she had to touch him. Had to be closer to him than humanly possible. It was as if they were drawn to each other like magnets—intense magnets that were destined to combust upon meeting. But all things that started with heat ended with a meltdown. Their end had been more turbulent than their beginning. She’d told Timber that she loved him. And he’d told her to get the hell off Were land and return to the sea.

As the river became full-bellied and the currents whipped around them, Marian’s hair swept over their heads, cocooning them in a silky blond cage.

Lost in the feel of his lips, Marian almost didn’t notice when the boulder shifted and began to lift in a swift current of icy-cold water. His body twitched as if it were pulling free from the stone.

Marian detached her lips from Timber’s, slipped her hands in the crook between his chest and arm and wrenched him free. Using all the strength she had, Marian swam hard for the surface, dragging Timber’s limp body along with her.

“Don’t be dead,” she said, as she pulled him along the top of the water. “But that head injury of yours better be serious enough for you to forget that kiss.”

Chapter Three

As Timber regained consciousness, he moaned, and was instantly flooded with pain. His eyes ached. His head spun. His cheek stung like he’d taken a good punch. Pinching his eyes shut, he traced his fingers over his scalp and came away with something clumpy and wet. It wasn’t blood—he’d recognize the metallic scent anywhere. It felt like—smelled like...

“What the—”

Mud squished through his fingers. He glanced up, trying to gain his bearings. He was in some sort of small cave with a ruggedly carved roof and muddied dirt floor. But the air was warm on his skin. A fresh and succulent aroma, like ocean breezes melted with vanilla, invaded Timber’s senses.

He wasn’t alone.

Fists clenched, Timber spun around in the dirt and sucked in a shallow breath as his eyes settled on a mermaid sitting at the back of the cave. Moonlight streamed through the entrance, illuminating Timber and his companion in an umbrella of soft, yellow light. Her back was flush against a muddied wall, her legs stuck straight out in front of her and crossed at the ankles. Honey-blond hair cascaded over her shoulders in a tousled fall, shimmering with diamond dust and jagged rock clusters. Although her face was cloaked in shadow, plump cheeks and a tiny heart-shaped chin made the Merwoman unmistakable. Unforgettable. She was wearing
his
black T-shirt, and had pulled it down over her legs to cover her bare, golden-tan skin; she must’ve shifted after she pulled him from the river.

Timber couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t quiet the hammering against his skull. He couldn’t unclench his fists or loosen the tightening of his chest, no matter how much he willed it.

He couldn’t believe it. Marian was here. Sitting in front of a fire, watching him intently over the dancing flames. As if she had nowhere better to be on a wet, winter morning.

She stared through the dark, piercing Timber with a heated stare that sent the blood racing through his veins in a fevered rush. His reaction to her hadn’t faded in the years they’d been apart. If anything, it’d only gotten stronger. The urge to sweep Marian into his arms and continue what they’d started two years ago overwhelmed him.

But as her blue eyes shifted to a stack of logs next to the fire, their connection severed. The cold sting of betrayal rooted in its place, reminding Timber of how they’d parted ways. He groaned, and plopped onto his back. The cave ceiling was dingy and wet, but it gave Timber something to think about other than the way Marian’s kissable pink lips would taste.

He lifted his head, peered over his bare chest, down the length of his black leather pants, and out the cave entrance. Black, rumbling clouds had all but blocked out the sky, and the rainstorm that’d been on the horizon was finally dumping buckets.

“I wouldn’t move too much if I were you,” Marian said, her voice a velvety caress. “You’re hurt.”

What did she care about the pang in his gut and the scrape on his head? “Where are we?”

“Hi to you, too.”

“Don’t pretend to play nice, Marian. We’re past that.”

She cleared her throat as the fire flared, flooding Timber with warmth. “You hit your head on a rock and got knocked out. I dragged you to a cave downriver and you’ve been lying here unconscious for the last twelve hours.”

“Twelve—” Timber sat up too fast. A wave of dizziness smacked into him, knocking him back to the dirt. “Son of a bitch, I can’t see straight.”

“I told you not to move,” Marian said curtly. “You were hurt pretty bad in the
rock slide
.”

Timber didn’t miss the emphasis on her last word, though he couldn’t penetrate the fog in his head to understand what she meant.

“Rock slide?” He couldn’t keep his eyes open, and his ears were filled with the thundering sounds of the river and rain. “What rock slide?”

“The one that split apart the mountain. The entire southern side of Were Mountain just fell into the river. It’s pretty much blocked now. Don’t you remember?”

There was something hidden in her words. Something he
should’ve
remembered, but couldn’t. Without warning, his lips tingled, and his lungs filled with a generous helping of air. He exhaled heavily, though the tension in his body remained.

“I don’t remember a rock slide.” As Timber said the words, his stomach rumbled, reminding him of the blast, the dynamite and Ryder—the psychotic son of a bitch. It was good that Marian had mistaken the explosion for a rock slide. Lord help him if she used him to get information about his pack a second time. “Take that back. I do remember.” She’d saved him. Dragged him downriver. And had waited by his side until he awoke. Mermaids never did anything out of the goodness of their hearts. Timber had learned that lesson firsthand. They were temptresses, born and bred to seduce. Marian must’ve wanted something from him.... “What’s with this stuff?” He swiped a lump of mud off the side of his head and flicked it into the dirt.

“It’s full of minerals. Some mermaids in my colony believe it has healing properties, thanks to the tiny bits of the Mer stone that are flaked through it.”

Each shifting race on the isle had a stone responsible for their ability to shift. The stones harnessed specific shifting energies, allowing the inhabitants of the isle to shift from Dracos, Weres and Merfolk, into dragons, werewolves and mermaids. While the Were stone was protected deep in the heart of Were Mountain, the Mer stone was rumored to be broken to bits and dusted throughout the waters on the Mer side of the isle. Timber supposed it wasn’t farfetched to think that some chips of the stone had surged upriver and had filtered through the mud.

“The mud might feel weird,” Marian continued, “but it acted as a bandage and stopped your bleeding. You could probably scrape it off now. I think you’re out of the woods.”

Great.
Not only did he owe Marian for pulling him out of the river, but for healing the cut on his head, too. Being indebted to the mermaid who’d run back to her colony with vital information on where the rogue lair was located was not something Timber needed right now. Not when he was so close to earning back his place in the main Were pack.

Steeling himself for certain agony, Timber clenched his jaw and jerked up to sitting, then swiveled around to face the fire...and Marian. In the flickering light of the flames, she almost looked serene. Innocent. Like she’d helped him because she was kindhearted and noble.

He knew better.

Crossing his legs, Timber rubbed his hands together for warmth, and gazed into the flames. If she thought she was going to leave this cave with the upper hand, she was crazy. “What brought you so far upriver?”

“I was exploring downstream, closer to mermaid waters, and got caught in the storm surge. Before I knew it, a strong current dragged me upriver, into the borderland between our territories.”

Didn’t sound likely that a storm surge would be powerful enough to pull a mermaid upriver. They were solid swimmers, able to slice through currents at whim.

Something was up.

“Were you alone?” Timber fought the urge to drink in the soft features of the face that had plagued his dreams the last two years. Instead, he stared into the heart of the fire and watched blackening logs crack apart under the heat.

“I always explore alone.”

“I remember.” It was how they’d first met. “But I had to ask, anyway.”

“I’m surprised you remember anything about me.” Marian tugged Timber’s shirt over her knees and re-crossed her ankles, as if she was nervous about something. “In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t push me from your memory the first chance you got.”

“Baby,” Timber said, leaning forward, “you may be a pain in the ass, but you’re impossible to forget.”

A smile danced across her lips, reminding Timber of how glorious she looked when she’d been happy. When
they’d
been happy.

Timber couldn’t help but think about the other times she’d shifted from mermaid to voluptuous woman. The shift would leave her beautifully naked and she’d always asked to borrow his shirt for cover. Timber had heard that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but whoever said that had mentioned nothing about the cock growing harder. The sight of his shirt clinging to Marian’s slender body was highly erotic, drawing Timber’s body painfully tight. The shirt looked too good on her, falling far over her shoulders, revealing the tantalizingly smooth swoop of her neck. She looked dainty in it, pure and sweet. And it would be swathed in her sweet, fresh scent when he got it back. Just
perfect
.

“What were you doing down here?” Marian toyed with a long strand of blond hair that had curled around her neck and fallen over her chest. She stroked the tip of the strand, eyeing Timber with unmistakable desire. “I didn’t think Weres traveled this far south. Don’t you guys normally stay closer to the center of the mountain?”

“Normally we stay close to our Alpha, yes.” He nodded, studying the soft curve of her neck, and the plump pout of her lips.

God, it’d be so easy to crawl around the fire and pin her in the cage of his arms. They were alone for the night. Confined to a small space. Each of them half-naked. He could feel their connection spark across his skin. He could read the hunger in her eyes. It wouldn’t take long before they’d be lost in an ecstasy that had been robbed from them. Even if Timber never wanted to see Marian again, there was no denying their passion had remained through the years. He may not trust Marian, but he trusted the intensity weighing heavily between them. Physical needs and raw, animal chemistry had nothing to do with their trust issues.

“I don’t know if you remember, but I wouldn’t exactly call myself a normal Were,” he said, excitement churning in his gut. “My tastes have always been...more unconventional.”

He’d felt something for her. A mermaid from the eastern part of the isle. Although Weres weren’t forbidden to strike up relationships with Merfolk, it didn’t happen much.

Timber circled the fire on his hands and knees and approached Marian. She drew her legs under her and froze beneath his stare. The sparkle in her cerulean eyes warned Timber that she desired him as much as he desired her. She wanted this. Wanted him. Feeling like he was on the edge of a cliff, waiting to take a leap, he stopped. Considering their stormy past, Marian would have to meet him halfway. She didn’t budge.

“You were different from any other Were I’d ever met, I’ll give you that.” The corner of Marian’s lip quirked, reminding Timber of a poker player who was bluffing through a rotten hand. “But that still doesn’t explain how I found you at the bottom of Feralon River with your head cut and the side of the mountain blasted through.”

Realization cracked Timber upside the head. Marian was determined to figure out what he was doing at the base of Were Mountain. She wasn’t nearly as distracted as he was. And she wasn’t simply exploring the river, as she’d claimed. Damn it, Marian was doing it to him again. Distracting him with her beauty, then asking innocent little questions that were far from innocent.

Timber sat back on his haunches, chastising himself for thinking they could have something physical in spite of all that happened. “If you think you’re going to get any information from me like you did last time, you can forget it.”

“I told you that the information my Emperor received about your location didn’t come from me.” She sucked her bottom lip and chucked another twig on the fire. It crackled, spitting purple-tipped flames into the cave. “I wouldn’t have told him where your pack was located, but we’ve been over this before. I see you still haven’t gotten over your trust issues.”

Any rational person would have trust issues in his position. Two years ago, just before Timber met Marion, he’d been trusted by the Alpha of the main pack with a mission. Secure the southernmost edge of Were Mountain with Rison, Ryder’s brother. An adventurer at heart, Rison had taken the opportunity to explore the uncharted land, had slipped and fallen into a maelstrom of swirling black river water. Timber never saw his pack mate again and couldn’t forgive himself for not doing more to save him. He should’ve been more vigilant. He should’ve insisted Rison be more careful—he was, after all, ten years his senior. As if his own guilt wasn’t enough, in Ryder’s eyes, Rison’s death was completely Timber’s fault. And so Timber had sworn to repay the debt. He’d do Ryder’s bidding until he earned his forgiveness...and then petition for acceptance back into the main pack.

“Sounds like you’re no different than the mermaid I left two years ago,” Timber said, his words slipping past his lips as a growl. “You’re still every bit as manipulative and tight-lipped as you were back then. You want to ask all kinds of questions, yet you give nothing of yourself or your own secret agenda. I don’t buy that you were exploring the river for fun, not for a second, but I’d bet the shirt on your back that you won’t tell me what you were really doing so far upstream.”

As Marian leaned forward, her shirt sagged in front, giving Timber a glimpse of tan, rounded flesh. “I’m not the manipulative one, Timber. You take the cake on that one. You toyed with my emotions, then ordered me away from you like it meant nothing, remember?”

He nailed her with a heated glare. “I told you to go back where you came from because you betrayed me.”

“Because you refused to believe that I
wouldn’t
have betrayed you.” She shook her head and Timber felt a wall rise up between them. “It doesn’t even matter. I’m over it.”

“It wasn’t like there were other mermaids in the area who could’ve reported back to your Emperor. You were the only one here, the only one who could’ve seen what was going on.”

“I told you, I’m over it.” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and looked away, staring at the wall. “Drop it.”

Timber wished he could, but he couldn’t. He’d thought about that night over and over again. He’d seen the cerulean lights of Marian’s tail whipping through the river before Rison had died. Timber had watched Marian scope out the area—if Rison were still alive, he’d vouch for the sight.

“You know, you’re right. It doesn’t matter.” Timber’s attention shot to the entrance to the cave as a bolt of lightning lit up the night. “I know what I saw and I know what happened after you left. Guess there’s nothing more to say.”