One Insatiable(45)

The forest has turned seemingly overnight into a blast of deep reds, bright yellows, and purple, but I only have one thing on my mind. At last I’m pushing through the final river birch, when I pull up short. I’ve made it to the clearing, and there she sits, still wearing the jeans and maroon tee she’s had since I took her to my place.

“Mercy?” She’s sitting so still, I don’t want to startle her. “Did you go to the mansion?”

In a flash of dark hair and blue eyes, she’s in my arms. She’s holding me tight around my neck, her body pressed against my chest. All of her emotions hit me in a silent rush. She’s fighting her fear, but the fear is winning. It ignites my desperate urge to protect her because overwhelming all is her love for me. It takes me by surprise. Her feelings are words we’ve never spoken out loud.

My face is buried in her beautiful hair, and I close my eyes, drinking in the sensation of her love. The blood has bonded us, and I can’t help wondering what she’s sensing from me.

I’m holding her back, and I slide my hands lower as she leans back to find my eyes. Hers are warm, and I’m pretty sure she’s picked up what I just discovered. Stepping back, our hands fall together, fingers entwined. She leads me to the base of a red maple, and we sit facing each other.

Our legs are crossed, knees touching, and she holds both my hands. “Our connection is growing.”

“I feel your pain. What happened at the mansion?”

“He’s not going to let me go. I summoned him, and he came to me. I tried everything…” Her chin drops, but she doesn’t cry. She only holds my hands, stroking my palms with her thumbs.

“I won’t give up on this. Even if we run out of time, I’ll figure out a way to enter the underworld and carry you back to me.”

A sad little smile curls her lip. “Storm the gates of hell?” She’s still looking at our hands, and her feelings are changing to sadness, despair.

“Damn right, I will. I’ve been to hell. I’m not afraid to go back there.”

Her slim brows pucker, and she glances up at me then. “You never told me what happened. Why were you cut off from your pack?”

Shame tightens my throat. I never wanted to tell her this story.

“But you can,” she speaks to my thoughts. “Never be ashamed with me.”

“You hear my thoughts?”

Another tiny smile, and she nods. “Can you hear mine?”

“No. I only sense your feelings.”

“It’s probably for the best.” She reaches up and lightly touches my lips. “We’d never get anything done if you knew how badly I want to kiss you all the time.”

Leaning down, I capture her beautiful lips. I’m about to deepen our kiss, but she holds my cheek, pulling back. “Tell me what happened. I need to know.”

Straightening, I clear my throat. “I was a boxer when I lived in the east. A champion middleweight.”

That makes her smile. “A champion.”

“My shifter reflexes probably helped. I was a shit, taking unfair advantage.” Looking down, I don’t want to elaborate on just how arrogant an * I was. “My best friend and I were at a bar one night. He was pissed about some match up he’d been snubbed for…”

“You were in a fight?”

“A couple of punks came up and started talking trash. We took it outside, and…” Inhaling deeply, I say it. “I didn’t realize the guy was dead. I’d hit him a few times when I realized Slayer… Slayde was out of control. Blood was everywhere.”

Memories of the rain falling on us fill my mind. Great drops of water spreading out the black-red pool of blood on the wet asphalt.

“It was a horrible scene.” Mercy sees it in my mind.

“I wasn’t bothered by the blood. We saw blood every day. I was bothered because I knew he was dead. It was the end of the line for us.”

“So you ran away.” She’s reading the story as it filters through my memory, but I don’t mind. I don’t like saying the words out loud.

“We didn’t really run. We went down to the ocean. Atlantic City is a two-hour drive south. When they came and got us, we were both arrested for murder. The judge reduced my sentence to involuntary manslaughter, but I spent six years in prison.”

“And you were exiled from your pack.”

Slayde’s words come back to me from when I saw him last… What happened to us was our fault.

“Slayer is a wolf?”

“Yeah, he had a hard life. His mom died leaving him with a drunk who regularly beat the shit out of him. Found out later it wasn’t even his real dad.” Rubbing my chin, I look away remembering my mom’s face the night when I was banished. “He at least had a reason. I had no excuse.”

Mercy climbs into my lap, legs straddled, and wraps her arms around my neck. Her love floods my chest as she rests her cheek against mine. It’s the most healing sensation I’ve ever felt. I hold her tightly, thinking how she has become an anchor to me. She’s given me a purpose, saved me from despair.

“I lived a life of bad choices. They finally caught up with me.”

Pulling back, she looks into my eyes. “Everybody makes bad choices at some point in their lives. You paid for your mistakes. You want to find a better life. I see it in your heart.”