Midsummer Heat (8 page)

Lord alone knew when that would be. She’d had enough disasters when she’d moved into her current apparent to know that when it came to construction, Murphy had a firm grip of the reins. And, as the owner of his own building company, Max was first on the list when something went wrong.

She signed as she headed for the kitchen and her ultimate goal; coffee.

Despite the age of the cabin, the kitchen—like the bathroom she’d just showered in—was a delight. She grinned. In pride of place in the middle of the counter was a large coffee machine. Humming with happiness, or pre-coffee jitters, she set about loading the machine. A quick search of the cupboards revealed a large selection of filter coffee. Seemed Max was just as much of a coffee addict as she was. It didn't take long for the coffee to percolate. She sighed as she settled on the stool by the counter, a mug of hot java in her hands as she looked out of the window.

Three days to midsummer. Even now in the daylight, she could feel the pull of the moon. Like a devil on her back it goaded and prodded her, energy rolling over her skin and pulling at the wolf within. Three days to midsummer. Three days until she had no choice but to slough off the human skin and run as a wolf.

Any other month she had the choice; she could suppress it if she wished, but not this month. The midsummer moon was the most powerful, the most visceral of all the lunar phases. Intimately linked to lupine legend, it was the one phase where they had to leave their humanity behind, which was why only the deepest pacts or the most solemn claims were made beneath its moon.

Three days to change her mind about leaving. Three days to persuade her to stay. She took a sip of the rich dark liquid in her mug. Max had been insatiable. He'd woken her several times in the night and each time he'd been different. From rough and forceful as his wolf rode him, through playful and right to slow and so sensual it had made her toes curl. Each and every time he'd been different, like he was trying to cram a lifetime of loving into just one night.

Savoring the bitter-sweetness of the coffee, she sighed. Not in her wildest dreams had she thought he'd be
that
good in bed. She knew he'd be good… When they were kids all Max's girlfriends had raved about him, whispered conversations she'd eavesdropped on using a combination of stealth and her enhanced hearing.

They'd all been human, which had puzzled her. The thought that he preferred human females over his own kind had felt like he was selling out. Until she'd gotten older and realized there was no way he could fool around with a wolf chick. Not without her papa showing up on his doorstep. If there was one thing about lycan fathers, it was that they were
very
protective. If Max had bedded any of the pack girls, and her family had found out, there would have been a shotgun wedding faster than you could say the words. And there was nothing a suspicious father missed, especially not one with a wolf’s sense of smell.

She blinked, a wry smile on her lips as she rested her elbows on the counter. After last night, she could say without a shadow of a doubt that those girls hadn’t been lying.

Max was…wow. Just wow.

Cradling the mug in her hands, she looked out over the living area. Max had obviously remodeled, opening up the main room and decorating in comforting tones of cream and beige. Neutral, earthy tones which complemented the ethnic print cushions.

It was a comfortable place. A place for someone to unwind after a hard day at work. Her gaze swept over the big television and assorted electronic gadgets, past the hearth and over the doors opposite. One led to the bedrooms, the other to an office if the heavy desk and big chair was any indication.

Curious, she slid off the stool. Her footsteps were silent as she padded over the plush carpet. Wolves were sensual creatures; even in human form they sought tactile contact of all kinds. A wolf that avoided touching was a wolf with problems.

She reached the door, peeking around the frame into the small room. Tucked away in the corner of the house, it was obviously a man’s office. Here dark leather, heavy wood and clean lines ruled without compromise. She took a deep breath, rolling it over her tongue. Max spent a lot of time here; she could virtually taste him on the air.

Wandering further in, mug in one hand, she stroked the fingers of the other over the leather jotter on the desk. Who used a jotter anymore? Her lips quirked as she noticed the slight marks on the desk where his laptop had rested, four small circles worn into the surface.

She turned and blinked. On the wall behind her was a heavy, carved wood plaque. Max’s work, it had to be. He’d always been whittling away with that little pocket knife as far back as she could remember.

It read simply ‘Sanctuary’.

Breath stilled in her chest. Unable to resist, she approached it. Traced the letters he’d carved with a gentle finger. In between one heartbeat and the next she got it. This place, hidden up in the mountains away from the town and the rest of the pack, was Max’s sanctuary. The place he came to escape the daily rigors of running the pack. That one word, painstakingly carved into the wood, hauntingly beautiful in its simplicity, said everything. How alone and isolated he was. The pressures placed on him as Stratton Alpha. His need to escape, if only for a while from the responsibility that he’d taken on when little more than a teenager.

Her heart ached as she dropped her hand. Her attention transferred to the pictures either side, flanking the carving like a couple of heavies. She frowned. One was a photo, an old one of a town picnic. It wasn’t one she’d seen before but she recognized everyone in it. A group of teenagers lounged on the grass, smiles on their lips and laughter in their eyes. A younger version of herself was at the front, twisted to the side and laughing up at the youth at her side.

Drake Garrison. He and his family hadn’t lived in Stratton long, moving to a city up north before they’d graduated high school. She’d heard on the grapevine that he’d gone loco and slaughtered his entire family. She shuddered. There was only one punishment for such a heinous crime.

The midnight run.

They, his pack, would open a gate to the darkness between this world and the next, between here and the Faerylands, and shove him through. A similar gate nearby would be opened, just for twelve hours. If the condemned could run the plains and make it to the other door, he or she was free, their crimes considered punished. As far as she knew, only one wolf had ever made it alive. Ever. Normally the other gate only ever produced a corpse.

The shudder of dread slithering down her spine, she put the thought from her mind and studied the picture again. Behind her and Drake sat a younger Max, but he wasn’t looking at the camera. Instead, he was looking at her, longing and possessiveness written on his face for anyone to see. As soon as she saw it, she knew who had taken the photo. His father, Bennett. He wouldn’t have allowed anyone else to see such a weakness.

Was it love? Or was it because she’d said no to him? She took a sip from the mug and grimaced. Coffee was cold. Well, not cold, cold. But lukewarm, too cool to drink. Distracted as she swallowed, she moved to the other side of the plaque to look at the other picture and stopped dead.

It wasn’t a photo. Instead the heavy wooden frame surrounded a drawing. Not a sketch or an artist’s impression that would have done the expensive frame justice. It was a child’s drawing, the lines shaking and the coloring had gaps where the crayon had missed. Two wolves under a full moon. She reached out to touch the glass that protected a moment out of childhood. Her childhood. His childhood. She’d drawn this for him when they were both kids, just after he and his family had moved here.

He’d kept it. All these years, he’d kept it.

Her heart swelled, unfolding like a flower under the sun. She loved him. Perhaps she always had, but she’d lost touch with that fact under his dominating attitude and her need to be free. She never had been free though. She’d just buried the feeling deep down, so deep she couldn’t feel it, determined to do her own thing.

Her chin lifted as she used her free hand to wipe her wet cheeks. Now she would do her own thing again, and claim
him.

The front door to the cabin opened, out of sight in the main room but she felt the slight gust of air and the scents that swept in from the forest outside. She turned with a smile on her face, ready to face Max, chide him about being sentimental and tell him she’d decided to stay, but the smile dropped like a stone. The three scents that filled the cabin from the open door were wrong. Two bears and a wolf. Violence and death rode on their coat-tails and brought her hackles up, her wolf ready to break through the skin.

The coffee mug hit the floor, its contents spilling unseen over the carpet as she ran, knowing she ran for her life.

* * *

Kelli was his. After all these years, she was finally his.

A contented and happy smile spread itself over Max’s lips as he drove back up to the cabin as fast as he dared. The last thing he wanted was to roll the truck or get pulled over for speeding. Neither would be a particular problem. He could play chicken with a freight train and walk away, so a road accident would just mean an expensive bill for his truck.

And being pulled for speeding would just mean a lecture from the local sheriff, Bob Jenkins. Human in a town full of wolves, he’d long since given up locking any of them up. There was no point. If they’d wanted to, they could simply mangle the bars and walk out. Still, Bob had been sheriff since Max was a kid, so getting a lecture from him made Max feel seventeen again.

So he kept the truck below the speed limit despite the fact he wanted to floor it and get back to the sweet woman in his bed as quickly as possible. He’d left her there this morning to go and deal with a faulty heating system. Seeing her there, all sleepy and soft, naked under the sheet… It had nearly killed him not to slide back in there with her, but he had a business to run and ducking out on an emergency just wasn’t good. Like with the pack, the buck stopped with him.

He slid a glance to the seat next to him. As an apology for ducking out on her this morning, he’d picked up breakfast and a bunch of flowers on the way back. He had no clue what they were, but they were pretty with a delicate scent that reminded him of Kelli. She was delicate, all soft skin, silky hair and mouth-watering curves.

She’d been…she was…perfect. In every way, shape or form. The things they’d done, the way she’d been, submissive and aggressive by turns. The night was etched into his memory for all time. He groaned as the scent of his arousal filled the small truck cabin, his cock hard and aching within a heartbeat.

He turned the corner onto the private road that led up to the cabin, finally able to pick the speed up. Eager to get back to her. Hopefully she’d still be in bed, or would have just gotten up. She’d be warm and sleepy, pliant and open to the suggestion they should spend the day in bed. He grinned, a wholly masculine growl in the back of his throat at the thought.

Despite the anticipation and desire surging through his body, Max knew he’d been lucky. Last night he’d lost control, the wolf almost gaining the upper hand to claim the woman they both wanted. Whilst the outcome—his cock buried in her warmth as she writhed in ecstasy under him—was what he wanted, he wanted her to have a choice. He couldn’t…wouldn’t just take her and damn the consequences, even though that was what the creature inside demanded.

She’d talked him down, gotten him inside the cabin and waited until the man was back in control before surrendering to him. A shudder racked his body, his shoulders juddering against the back of the driver’s seat as the cabin came into view. If she hadn’t… No, he didn’t even want to think about that. Didn’t want to think about the bright, sassy spark in her eyes dimmed after he’d taken all her choices from her. He knew his wolf. Knew himself. Given half the chance he’d have bitten her, put his mark on her pretty little neck and she wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

Instead though, she’d talked. Using her soft voice and hands to gentle him, wait out the beast and bring him back to her. Only his true-mate would have been able to do that, and in that instant he knew he’d been right to wait for her. Ten years of freaking waiting, but he’d done it. For her. For his mate.

Pulling to a stop, he pulled the handbrake on and reached for the goodies on the passenger seat. Halfway there he stopped, his hands outstretched. The front door to the cabin was open. A frown on his face, he collected the takeout bag and the flowers, and slammed the truck door with a booted foot. Perhaps she’d nipped out…but to where?

“Kelli?” he called out as he neared the door.

The scent of bear answered him. The flowers fell from his hand, the bag following them to split, spilling its contents over the stone covered dirt and the smell of the food exploding onto the air. He ignored it, swift steps taking him to the open door. Something was wrong. Very wrong. Dread filled him, sliding icy fingers around his heart in a death-grip as he reached it.

He pushed it open and barreled through, ready for anything. The stink of bear was almost over-whelming but under it he could make out Kelli’s scent and another wolf, one that smelt familiar. The snarl was already on his lips as he looked around, noted the smashed patio windows and the trail of devastation down the garden, leading in to the forest.

“Bethany… I’m going to fucking
kill
you.”

Sunlight filtered through the trees, breaking through the canopy overhead to bathe the forest floor in a dappled carpet of light. The gentle breeze brought the scent of the wild and the mountains. Any minute now Max expected a couple of rabbits and maybe fucking Bambi to amble across his path.

He thundered through the forest like a one-wolf wrecking ball. Fully shifted, his paws were like dinner plates as they hit the dirt, claws digging deep to propel him forward in a furry tsunami. His chest heaved, dragging in oxygen to power his massive lupine form as he raced up a rocky incline, bouncing off a tree trunk to land atop the rise.