Hunter's Heart (Alpha Pack #4)(19)

"Oh, shit."

That tripped his trigger, and his hips bucked as he worked his rod with abandon and just let himself go. In seconds that familiar buzz started at the base of his spine, signaling orgasm. His release exploded like a shot from a gun, creamy white ropes of cum squirting to land on his stomach and chest. On and on he spurted until his balls had emptied and he was jerking with aftershocks, wishing it hadn't ended so fast.

"Damn," he rasped. "Time for a shower."

Now that the high had ended, he felt empty. Sort of lost. With a sigh, he rose and padded to the bathroom, turning on the water to let it get hot. As he stepped into the steamy spray, he groaned and tried to shut the nightmare out of his mind.

But now that it was stuck in his brain, he couldn't dislodge it.

Getting to know Daria, much less winning her over, might be his biggest challenge yet.

. . .

On the second day of her stay, Daria awoke feeling much better. So much, in fact, she was suspicious of exactly why she wasn't hurting beyond a twinge or two. And why in the hell the scratches on her body weren't more than pink, healing lines that looked a few weeks old instead of two days.

She stared at one of the marks on her left arm in growing dread. What kind of medicine speeded healing like that? Nothing she'd ever heard of.

It was then that she noticed two faint puncture marks inside her wrist.

Again, the memory of voices, the men shouting as they worked to save her life, flooded in. This time came the recollection of a slight, pinching pain on her wrist. Had she imagined that? If so, why were there marks on her skin?

Restless, she glanced at the chair beside the bed, wondering where Ryon had gone. Her new protector had been by her side off and on since his team had brought her in, and at first she was relieved whenever he would duck out. Then the stretches of time he was gone seemed interminably long, when she was awake to realize it. Now, she had to admit to herself that she missed him.

They had talked a little, though he avoided the subject of the Pack's specific missions and the paranormal world they fought in. Instead, he made small talk about Wyoming, his friends in particular, their strengths and idiosyncrasies. They were an odd group, but close as brothers, and his love for them shone with every word. As if her thoughts had conjured him, Ryon stepped through the door carrying a plastic grocery sack and approached with a tentative smile on his sexy face. "How are you feeling?"

Her heart lightened just to see him, though she kept her enthusiasm in check. "Almost human again."

He looked away, his expression sheepish, and she wondered what on earth was wrong with him. But then the odd moment passed and he brightened again.

"Well enough to get out of here and have a bite to eat in the cafeteria with me? The food there is awesome."

"They're springing me so soon?" she asked in surprise.

"If you promise to take it easy for the next few days. Nick took the liberty of having one of the guests' quarters made ready for you, if you'll do us the honor of staying while you recuperate."

"That's nice of him." It was. She also found it faintly disturbing, being taken in just like that by a compound of men she didn't know and who didn't know her, but she knew her nerves were on edge. Anyone's would be after what she'd been through.

"Great," he said, taking her words as acceptance. He looked vastly relieved, more than he should at the news that a stranger was staying. "I put your clothes and camping gear in your room already. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not. Thank you." She gestured to the sack. "What's in there?"

"Oh, these are some of your clothes. Didn't think you'd want to leave here with your butt hanging out of that gown. Not that I'd mind."

His statement and the impertinent grin made her laugh. "You must be a handful."

"I can be. Want to find out?"

He was so cute, she couldn't possibly take offense. "Not before you feed me. I was promised a meal, right?"

"You bet." Handing her the sack, he backed away. "I'll get a wheelchair while you get dressed."

"A wheelchair? I don't think I'll need one of those."

"Trust me, you do. After what you went through it's a miracle you're breathing."

"And why am I breathing?" she asked pointedly, gesturing to the pink scars on her arm. "Why am I practically healed?"

"All in good time. Baby steps, huh?"

Frustrated, she watched him walk out and shut the door behind him. Clearly, he was reluctant to get into many more details with her, but given the way she'd reacted to his delusion of being a wolf shifter, she wasn't really surprised.

But was it a fantasy on his part? She should be dead, not getting ready to leave, even in a wheelchair. Her bizarre recovery aside, she'd soon get the straight story on Ryon. She was sure his teammates would clue her in that he was suffering from some sort of mental illness and they humored him. That was the only explanation, and it made her sad.

Getting dressed took her longer than she had imagined, and she was just slipping on the borrowed tennis shoes Ryon had brought when he walked through the door pushing the wheelchair. But he wasn't alone.

"Daria, I'd like you to meet my commander, Nick Westfall."

Ryon's boss was an imposing man with short, feathery dark hair with the slightest bit of silver at the temples, and steely blue eyes. He carried himself with his back straight, his projected demeanor warning don't mess with me even though he had yet to open his mouth. When he did speak, however, his tone was kind.