Dark Wolf Unbound (Heart of the Shifter #2) (18 page)

Q
uinn Masters raced
soundlessly
through the thick woods, his injuries long forgotten, urgency coursing through him as he neared his house. He covered the last thirty yards, leapt over a fallen tree, then reached the edge of the clearing by his cabin.

There she was.

He stopped dead, fading back into the trees as he stared at the woman he'd scented when he was still two hours away, a lure that had eviscerated all weakness from his body and fueled him into a dead sprint back to his house.

His lungs heaving with the effort of pushing his severely damaged body so hard, Quinn stood rigidly as he studied the woman whose scent had called to him through the dark night. She'd yanked him out of his thoughts about Elijah and galvanized him with energy he hadn't been able to summon on his own.

And now he'd found her.

She'd wedged herself up against the back corner of his porch, barely protected from the cold rain and wet wind. Her knees were pulled up against her chest, her delicate arms wrapped tightly around them as if she could hold onto her body heat by sheer force of will. Her shoulders were hunched, her forehead pressed against her knees while damp tangles of dark brown hair tumbled over her arms.

Her chest moved once. Twice. A trembling, aching breath into lungs that were too cold and too exhausted to work as well as they should.

He took a step toward her, and another, then three more before he realized what he was doing. He froze, suddenly aware of his urgent need to get to her. To help her. To fill her with heat and breathe safety into her trembling body. To whisk her off his porch and into his cabin.

Into his bed.

Quinn stiffened at the thought. Into his bed? Since when? He didn't engage when it came to women. Not anymore. The risk was too high, for him, and for all Calydons. Any woman he met could be his mate, his fate, his doom. His sheva.

He was never tempted.

Until now.

Until this cold, vulnerable stranger had appeared inexplicably on his doorstep. He should be pulling out his sword, not thinking that the fastest way to get her warm would be to run his hands over her bare skin and infuse her whole body with the heat from his.

But his sword remained quiet. His instincts warned him of nothing.

What the hell was going on? She had to be a threat. Nothing else made sense. Women didn't stumble onto his home, and he didn't get a hard-on from simply catching a whiff of one from miles away.

His aching quads braced against the cold air, he inhaled her scent again, searching for answers to a thousand questions. She smelled delicate, with a hint of something sweet, and a flavoring of the bitterness of true desperation. He could practically taste her anguish, a cold, acrid weight in the air, and he knew she was in trouble.

His hands flexed with the need to close the distance between them, to crouch by her side, to give her his protection. But he didn't move. He didn't dare. He had to figure out why he was so compelled by her, why he was responding like this, especially at a time when he couldn't afford any distraction.

She moaned softly and curled into an even tighter ball. His muscles tightened, his entire soul burning with the need to help her. Quinn narrowed his eyes and pried his gaze off her to search the woods.

With the life of his blood brother in his hands, an Order posse soon to be after him, and his own body still half in the grave, he should be so focused on business that a woman could dance naked on his chest and he still wouldn't notice. It shouldn't be possible for a woman he didn't even know, hadn't met and barely even seen to rock him on his ass like this simply because he'd caught a whiff of her scent.

He was disciplined, dammit, and disciplined warriors didn't fall for that shit. It made no sense.

His intense need for her felt too similar to the compulsion that had sent him to the river three nights ago. Another trap? He'd suspected it from the moment he'd first reacted to her scent, but he'd been unable to resist the temptation, and he'd hauled ass to get back to his house. Yeah, true, he'd also needed to get back to his cabin to retrieve his supplies to go after Elijah. The fact she'd imbued him with new strength had been a bonus he wasn't going to deny.

But now he had to be sure. A trap or not? Quinn laughed softly. Shit. He hoped it was. If it wasn't, there was only one other reason he could think that could explain his reaction to her, and that would be if she was his mate. His sheva. His ticket to certain destruction.

No chance.

He wouldn't allow it.

He had no time for dealing with that destiny right now. It was time to get in, get out, and go after Elijah. His amusement faded as he took a final survey of the woods. There was no lurking threat he could detect. Maybe he'd made it back before he'd been expected, or maybe an ambush had been aborted.

Either way, he had to get into his house, get his stuff, and move on. His gaze returned to the woman, and he noticed a drop of water sliding down the side of her neck, trickling over her skin like the most seductive of caresses. He swore, realizing she wasn't going to leave. She'd freeze to death before she'd abandon her perch.

He cursed again and knew he had to go to her. He couldn't let her die on his front step. Not this woman. Not her.

He would make it fast, he would make it efficient, he would stay on target for his mission, but he would get her safe.

Keeping alert for any indication that this was a setup, Quinn stepped out of the woods and into the clearing. He'd made no sound, not even a whisper of his clothing, and yet she sensed him.

She sat up, her gaze finding him instantly in the dim light, despite his stealthy approach. They made eye contact, and the world seemed to stop for a split second. The moment he saw those silvery eyes, something thumped in his chest. Something visceral and male howled inside him, raging to be set free.

As he strode up, she unfolded herself from her cramped position and pulled herself to her feet, her gaze never leaving his. Her face was wary, her body tense, but she lifted her chin ever so slightly and set her hands on her hips, telling him that she wasn't leaving.

Her courage and determination, held together by that tiny, shivering frame, made satisfaction thud through him. There was a warrior in that slim, exhausted body.

She said nothing as he approached, and neither of them spoke as he came to a stop in front of her.

Up close, he was riveted. Her dark eyelashes were clumped from the rain. Her skin was pale, too pale. Her face was carrying the burden of a thousand weights. But beneath that pain, those nightmares, that hell, lay delicate femininity that called to him. The luminescent glow of her skin, the sensual curve of her mouth, the sheen of rain on her cheekbones, the simple silver hoops in her ears. It awoke in him something so male, so carnal, so primal he wanted to throw her up against the wall and consume her until their bodies were melted together in a single, scorching fire.

She searched his face with the same intensity raging through him, and he felt like she was tearing through his shields, cataloguing everything about him, all the way down to his soul.

He studied her carefully, and she let him, not flinching when his gaze traveled down her body. His blood pulsed as he noted the curve of her breasts under her rain-slicked jacket, the sensuous curve of her hips, and even the mud on her jeans and boots. He almost groaned at his need to palm her hips, drag her over to him, and mark her with his kiss. Loose strands of thick dark hair curled around her neck and shoulders like it was clinging to her for safety.

Protectiveness surged from deep inside him and he clenched his fists against the urge to sweep her into his arms and carry her inside, away from whatever hardships had brought her to his doorstep.

Double hell. He'd hoped his reaction would lessen when he got close to her, but it had intensified. He'd never felt like this before. Never had this response to a woman.

What the hell was going on? Sheva. The word was like a demon, whispering through his mind. He shut it out. He would never allow himself to bond with his mate. If that was what was going on, she was out of there immediately, before they were both destroyed forever.

Intent on sending her away, he looked again at her face, and then realized he was irrevocably ensnared. Her beautiful silver eyes were aching with a soul-deep pain that shattered what little defenses he had against her. He simply couldn't abandon her.

It didn't matter what she wanted. It didn't matter why she was there. She was coming inside. He would make sure it didn't interfere with his mission. He would make dead sure it turned out right. No matter what.

Without a word, he grabbed her backpack off the floor, surprised at how heavy it was. Either she had tossed her free weights in it, or she had packed her life into it.

He had a bad feeling it wasn't a set of dumbbells.

Quinn walked past her and unlocked his front door. He shoved it open, then stood back. Letting her decide. Hoping she would walk away and spare them both.

She took a deep breath, glanced at his face one more time, then walked into the cabin.

Hell.

He paused to take one more survey of his woods, found nothing amiss, and then he followed her into his home and shut the door behind them.

L
evi Hart froze
, his senses shocked into hyper-awareness when he caught the unmistakable scent of a
woman.
It plunged past his shields, invading his being with a force so strong he had no chance to protect himself from the sheer intensity of her presence. He swore and went utterly still. His mind went into hyper-focus as he fought to regain control, his body barely swaying on the ancient meat hook he'd been chained to for over a century.

But with each breath he took, the fragile, delicate scent of pure femininity wrapped itself tighter around him. Hot. Sensual. Tempting. And utterly dangerous to a Calydon warrior who was driven by a dark, powerful need for a woman.

His ancient instincts rose fast and hard, a driving lust that he hadn't succumbed to in centuries. Swearing under his breath, he closed his eyes, summoning what was left of his once formidable discipline to regain control of his body and his senses. It took precious seconds to shut down the lust burning through him. He had to engage strength he couldn't afford to waste in order to crush the almost insurmountable need to find her
right then
, but he did it.

The relief was instant, but a residue of emptiness resonated through him, as if his very being was stumbling in the absence of that sexual hunger. Without the distraction, however, a sharp-edged focus settled over him. He narrowed his eyes and called upon his preternatural senses, sending waves of psychic energy out into the surrounding tunnels, searching for the physical presence of the woman he had scented.

He found nothing.

A dark fury raged through him, anger that he couldn't find her. Urgency mounted, and he sent out another wave of energy, but this time, he opened his mind, sending the tentacles of his consciousness out into the air, searching with ruthless speed. Within seconds, he picked up her feminine energy again. This time, he kept his physical response contained, and he allowed his mind to hurtle toward her at a mind-numbing pace, racing through tunnels and around corners, faster and faster, gaining speed with each millisecond, her scent becoming stronger and stronger until—

He found her.

The moment his mind touched hers, she sucked in her breath, and her mind snapped to his, injecting warmth and passion into his cold, isolated being. His entire body clenched in response, and tension radiated through his muscles as he fought to concentrate. She smelled of spring and outdoors, of grass, of nature, and of a lazy sensuality, things he hadn't experienced in over a hundred years. But since he'd opened his mind to her, it wasn't simply her physical being he accessed. Her emotions assaulted him, a dizzying onslaught of fear, courage, and desperation, all of it ruthlessly contained by her single-minded focus and determination. His name reverberated through her mind, and it was layered through her entire being.

All her attention was centered on
him.

His body responded to the knowledge, a tightening of his cock that he couldn't control no matter how hard he fought it. To have his name and his existence so intricately woven into the fabric of her being was so visceral that he could almost feel her presence, as if she was right in front of him. He couldn't keep his physical response contained, and his lust spilled over their connection into her. Instantly, desire flooded her, and he felt her body respond to his.

The connection between them was electric and intense, igniting his cells like fire licking its way through his body. He was a cold-blooded assassin who'd spent a lifetime honing his utter lack of emotion and eradicating his need for physical connection with a woman, and yet, in mere seconds, she'd stripped away every last defense and created a need in him so powerful he knew he'd be sprinting through the tunnels in search of her if he weren't locked down.

Who the hell was she? And why was she there? No one had set foot in any of the caverns surrounding his prison since he'd been chained up, and he didn't believe it was a coincidence that she was so close, thousands of feet below the surface of the earth in tunnels that no human being would ever stumble across, thinking about him.
Who are you?
He pressed the question at her, instinctively erecting a telepathic bridge between their minds.

She froze in response, and for a split second, he felt her confusion that he was speaking in her mind. Then fear rippled through her, and she slammed up her mental shields, severing their link. Emptiness assaulted him at the lack of connection, and he swore, struggling to regain his equilibrium. She'd cut him off, but he knew she'd heard him.

She'd heard him.
After more than a century of complete isolation,
she'd heard him.
The sudden shock of having his existence recognized by another living creature hit him with an almost violent crash of emotion. His entire being suddenly burned with a need to be acknowledged, to be recognized, to be
seen.

He shoved aside the emotions before they had a chance to claim him. He'd lived his whole life alone. He'd been a shadow in the night, a phantom who was everyone's worst nightmare. His solitary existence had never bothered him, not even for an instant, and he wasn't going to let it start grating on him now just because he'd been strung up like a carcass for a century and had scented a woman so enticing it could drive him mad if he let it consume him.

Her essence became stronger, and he realized she was headed right for him, on a direct path through the tunnels.
She was seeking him out.
Anticipation burned through him, an escalating need to see her, to hear her voice, to drag her against him and taste her mouth against his.

He swore and closed his eyes, raising his own shields to block her scent so he could recalibrate. What the hell? Why was he reacting like that to her? Was it just because he'd been isolated for so long? Or maybe she was some sort of seductress? Not that it mattered. He didn't want to make out with her. He wanted to
escape
.

This might be his chance.

He took a deep breath, summoning the combat-focus that had once been as instinctual as breathing and staying alive. Decades of no food, no water, and no external stimulation had weakened him, and his mind fought against his commands to concentrate so intently.

With a snarl of fury, he forced his mind to respond, channeling what was left of his strength into his mind until it coalesced into the razor-sharp clarity that had once defined him.

Straining to see in the darkness, he scanned the cave that had been his prison for so long. It had taken years for his eyes to adjust to the rampant darkness enough for him to be able to see anything, and even now, he could make out only the faintest dark shapes that indicated tunnel openings, escape routes that were only yards away, and yet completely out of reach.

She was in one of those tunnels, getting closer with each step.

Manipulating his body weight with the effortless grace of a man who'd spent countless hours figuring out how to stay fit and strong even while he was suspended by his wrists in a frigid, underground cave, Levi spun in a circle. He systematically inspected every inch of his cave, searching for indications that would tell him which direction she was approaching from.

Unable to resist the temptation, he inhaled again, and her scent wrapped around him, diffusing through his cells like a tendril of sunshine in a body that had long been dead. Energy pulsed through him, a sense of vitality he hadn't felt in decades. He reached out to her again, this time searching the space around her for more information on who she was. With his attention no longer only on her, he noticed the presence of two powerful males flanking her.

His hands clenched, and his muscles went taut.
She was with two Calydon warriors.
Possessiveness surged through him, a sudden fear for her safety. Was she their prisoner? Were they going to lock her up the way he'd been strung up? Suddenly, it was no longer about sex. It was no longer about his need to be acknowledged. It became only about protecting her.
Are you in danger?
He pressed the question ruthlessly at her mind, shattering her mental shields.

Again, she flinched, clearly hearing him, but once again, she didn't answer. Instead, she thrust him out of her mind as efficiently as he'd penetrated it.

He had to admit, he was impressed with her defenses, but at the same time, it was annoying as hell. He had no idea what the situation was. Did he need to protect her? Was she in danger?

No. No.
No.

His job wasn't to protect
anyone.
He had one last mission to accomplish, and he couldn't afford to get distracted by a woman. He had to escape, hunt down the man who had nearly destroyed Levi's soul…and then kill him. He could allow the approaching threesome to mean only one thing to him: a chance to gain his freedom.