Cry Wolf (Wolves of Angels Rest #7)(24)

She remembered seeing it when he’d jumped into the river with her, he the hunter, she the prey.

This time, she wasn’t sure who had caught whom.





Chapter 9

As his almost painfully fast heartbeat returned to normal, Diesel slid bonelessly to lie beside Willow.

The last time they’d done this, it had been stupidly early in the morning, and she’d fallen asleep almost immediately, and he’d stolen her key and sneaked out.

He couldn’t do that this time. Not just because it was barely early evening, but because he didn’t think he had it in him again. Whatever strategic and covert training he’d had over the years—years of trying to come to terms with the rogue werewolf who was his older brother and his own geeky, decidedly not werewolfy tendencies—all that was failing him now. He wanted only to curl up beside her in this road warrior van for the rest of the night.

Because tomorrow night they were going after the Kingdom Guard.

“The reason I can’t stay,” he said softly, “is because I have an operation tomorrow.”

Her arm, crooked under his head, tightened. “An operation? Is something…wrong?”

The alarm in her voice made him push up on his elbow to look down at her. “Not wrong with me. I meant operation like special ops.”

Her brow furrowed. “I thought you said you were out of the army.”

“I guess the army isn’t out of me.”

“Those guys you were with earlier…”

“Part of my old platoon. We’re helping friends who got into trouble and attracted the attention of some bad people.”

She touched his cheek. “Not your brother?”

He shook his head, rubbing against her knuckles. “He…died shortly after I had joined up. It meant my parents were finally able to settle down.”

“That was a long time ago, but I’m still sorry,” she said. “No wonder you feel the need to help now.”

He tilted his head into her hand. “I hadn’t thought of it like that. But yeah. These friends just want to be left in peace, but it’s gonna take a war to make that happen.”

She bit her lip. “Don’t like the sound of that.”

He didn’t either, not anymore, not when he’d just found her again.

“It’s bad trouble,” he admitted. “And I don’t want it to touch you. Which means I shouldn’t have touched you.”

“But—”

He brushed his thumb over her mouth, soft and swollen from his rough kisses. God, he’d practically attacked her. “But I couldn’t stop myself.”

She gazed at him. “You’re still going to leave, though, aren’t you?”

He nodded. “Have to. But I didn’t want to walk off again without explaining.”

“If it’s so bad, shouldn’t this be a job for law enforcement?”

He hesitated. “They can’t help.”

After a moment, she sighed. “I come from Hatfield-McCoy country, so I guess I understand.”

“I started something with you that I might not be able to finish,” he said. “And part of me is sorry—so damn sorry—for that. But in some ways, maybe it’s better for you.”

Her brow furrowed and she nipped his thumb, hard. “Don’t tell me what’s right for me.”

If only she knew the things he couldn’t tell her. He definitely couldn’t mention the werewolf virus that might be churning through her veins, triggered by his presence, his touch.

If he didn’t come back from their assault on the Kingdom Guard, she would never need to know. The wolf spirit would fall dormant again, and she’d live the rest of her life as if he’d never been part of it.

The bleakness must have been obvious on his face because she reached up to cup his cheek. “For the first time in what seems like forever, I remember…who I am, I guess. You gave me that again. I just want you to make it through the other side too.”

His chest tightened at her steady, unflinching gaze. She was still the fearless girl in untied sneakers who’d won the shy wolf within him. And didn’t even know it.

And he had to keep it that way, to honor the boldness she’d taught him and that he’d fought to live up to in all the time without her leading up until now. One more night on his own and then…

But there might not be a day after.

With a desperation as dark and churning as that long-ago river where she’d disappeared from his sight, he pulled her to him again.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, clasping him tight, as if for all her talk of understanding, she wasn’t going to let him go.

He laid her back on the thin mattress and, starting from her lips, kissed his way across her body, tracing down the vulnerable arch of her neck, following the contours of her collarbones and up over the swell of her breasts, down the valley between to the lush curves of her belly and hips. Between her legs, he lapped the smoky-sweetness of the pleasure he’d given her earlier. Since he’d been wearing a condom, there were no remains of his own release. As if he’d never been there…

No, he wasn’t thinking that. Fatalism could be fatal. He knew that from his army days. And right now, she was his only mission.

He hooked her knees over his shoulders and sank into her intoxicating depths, teasing out the little pearl of her clit. She made a keening noise low in her throat, and her fingers tightened in his hair as her hips bucked up to his tormenting mouth.