BrightBlueMoon (13 page)

“You’re welcome any time. You know that.”

Beside Mandy, Jack nodded. “That goes for both of you. Give me a little notice and I should be able to have a cabin ready for you, especially this winter, when the baby’s due – it’s our slowest time of year.”

Both of you
. Kimberly shot a glance at Michael, a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine as a sense of expectation – of possibility – dawned on her, as brilliant as the noon sun that shone down on the surrounding trees, making the leaves look gilded.
 

A breeze blew through as Kimberly and Mandy’s embrace dissolved, but she still felt warm, inside and out.

Michael nodded and cleared his throat. “Lunch was great. Thanks again. Mandy…”

A light flickered in Mandy’s blue eyes, the ones that looked so much like her father’s. “Yeah?”

“Wish I could spend more time with you. A week and a half doesn’t seem like much after so many years of keeping my distance.”

“I’m just glad we finally got to meet. And like Jack said, you’re welcome back any time.” She hugged Michael, and Kimberly could see a little of the tension go out of his shoulders.

The rest of the pack, who’d all come for lunch, bid them goodbye too. When Kimberly turned toward her car with a final wave, she could practically taste the bittersweetness of the moment. “You sure you want to let me drag you to the city?” she teased Michael as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“If you really have to ask, maybe we should make another stop at the cabin before we leave.” His blue eyes gleamed as his gaze trailed over her body, eventually resting on her face. “I’ll show you exactly how much I want to be with you. Again.”

Heat flared between her thighs as her core tightened, stealing her breath. “I was only teasing,” she said as she turned the key in the ignition, her body aching faintly where he’d been just hours ago. He’d shown her how much he wanted her, all right … he hadn’t stopped, even when the sun had peeked over the mountains. They’d had next to no sleep, and they’d skipped the big breakfast she’d planned, but she wasn’t complaining.

Gravel crunched under the car’s tires as she pulled out of the driveway, and a last gust of fall air blew into the vehicle, carrying the scent of falling leaves. Breathing deeply, she put the window all the way up, shutting out the chill as she steered down the mountain, picking up speed. She could still feel his hands on her body, his hardness inside her – her entire system was haunted by the sensory ghosts of their night together, and she didn’t want it to end. Ever.

She thought of the city as the forest passed in a blur, and her heart picked up speed. “Maybe we
should
stop.” There was a gravel turn-around area just ahead. She could park the car there for a little while.

“Oh yeah?” Michael’s voice went a little deeper, and she could feel his gaze on her as she forced herself to keep her eyes on the road.

“Yeah. I’ve been thinking… I’m excited to start over again with you in Nashville, but there’s something I’d like to do before we leave. Something that seems like it should be done here, in the mountains.” Her blood ran hot at the thought, and she knew that what she was imagining was too wild for her apartment, too untamed for Nashville. Beneath her sweater, her nipples went hard, and she was sure: she wanted it.

What would Michael say? Would he jump at the chance, or think she was too fragile? She set her jaw, pushing that thought away. She wasn’t a wolf, but she was a wolf’s mate – he wouldn’t deny that.

“What is it you’ve been thinking about?” he asked as she brought the car to a halt, pulling over close to the tree line.

She killed the engine and met his eyes. “I want you to mark me.”

His eyes changed, flickering with light and darkness, going from sky to stormy blue. “Mark you?” There was a note of something she couldn’t quite describe in his voice.

Wonder. Lust. Longing. Maybe all those things – she felt each one too as she stared back at him. “Yes.”

“I didn’t realize you even knew about mate marks.”

“Please. The whole pack has them, except for Violet.” Given the fact that the pack members had to strip before they shifted forms, she’d seen everyone’s mate mark – the distinct shoulder scars had caught her eye instantly. “I asked Mandy about them a week ago. I know they’re how wolves mark their mates – sort of like how we humans use wedding rings, right?”

He made a low sound that might have been a laugh. “Sort of. But don’t think I won’t give you a ring. I will. In a heartbeat. You don’t have to wear my mark.”

Her heart quickened in protest. “I want to.”

“Kimberly, I…” He looked torn, though she couldn’t say why. When she glanced down, she could see that he was hard, his jeans strained by arousal he couldn’t hide, just like he couldn’t hide the gleam of desire in his eyes.

“We’re mates, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that means forever?”

“Always.” His voice carried the hint of a growl.

“Then why are you hesitating – why are you surprised?”

“I don’t want to hurt you. And I definitely don’t want to scare you off.”

“Really.” She crossed her arms beneath her breasts, doing her best to ignore the way they ached as the motion drew her sweater tighter across them. “That’s pretty insulting, after all we’ve been through lately. I’ve had more bullets than I can count fly over my head, my only child was kidnapped and I watched you almost die … and you think I’m going to run screaming for the hills because of a little bite.”

“A big bite. A deep one. It’ll hurt, and the scar will never fade.”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” She narrowed her eyes at him.

He adjusted his jeans, silent for several moments. “God knows I want to mark you. I’ve been thinkin’ about it ever since we…” His gaze trailed lower, over her shoulders, then below. “Wolves heal quick – a little time beneath the moon, and the wounds are nothin’ but scars. Yours will take longer. A lot longer.”

“I don’t mind.” She’d suffered worse pain. Giving birth to their daughter alone, for instance. Then raising her without a father. Puncture wounds were nothing compared to those agonies. “Besides, I came prepared.” Bending at the waist, she rummaged under her seat.

Michael’s brows rose when his gaze settled on the box she’d pulled out – a first aid kit. It’d been under her seat since she’d bought the car. Now, she was glad she’d thought to keep it there, just in case.

He met her eyes again. “I’ll mark you. I’ll mark you in a heartbeat, if you’re absolutely sure.”

She reached out, laid a hand on his thigh and squeezed. “Let’s go for a walk.”

It was cold outside. He kept her close with an arm around her waist as they walked, following a narrow trail that wound through the woods, little more than a deer path. No one else was present; the forest was silent. Leaves fell here and there, drifting down around them as they passed tree after tree, sometimes bumping branches. Beneath their feet, a thick layer of shed leaves and pine needles provided cushion.

“How about here?” she asked when they reached a small clearing. Looking around, she could see nothing but forest.

“Perfect.” He ran a hand up her back and over her shoulder, tucking his fingers beneath the collar of her sweater. “You’d better take this off, if you can stand the cold. I don’t wanna get it bloody.”

She set her first aid kit down in the leaves and pulled the garment over her head, her skin pebbling instantly as he breathed a long sigh. When she looked up, he was eyeing her with unmistakable longing.

A shiver swept over her, leaving her feeling warmer, strangely, instead of colder. “Is there a special ceremony or anything?”

“I reckon every pack handles it a little differently, but not really. Anyway, seeing as how we don’t technically belong to a pack…”

“Good.” Her breath curled in front of her face, forming a fine mist. “I like the idea of it being just us – our way.” He – having him – was more than enough.

He reached out and touched her shoulder. The kiss of his fingertips against her skin was feather-light, and her mind whirled with visions of what was to come. Her excitement didn’t ebb, but as he drew closer, a hint of adrenaline crept into her veins, heightening her senses and sharpening her perceptions.

“I’ve waited a lifetime for this,” he said, sliding her bra strap down over her shoulder. It hung against her arm, a white ribbon against her chilled skin, though she could no longer feel the cold.

Just as softly as he’d touched her, he withdrew his hand and began to take off his clothing.

Kimberly’s heart leapt, though she should have realized: he needed to remove everything in order to shift. The necessity of it all didn’t dampen the thrill of watching him strip down, of seeing the hard lines and angles of his body exposed. If the temperature bothered him, he didn’t let it show.

“You should sit down,” he said, his blue eyes shining even in the shadow cast by the forest’s dying canopy. “Or at least kneel.”

She lowered herself, folding her legs beneath her body. She still had a few bumps and bruises from when he’d tackled her the night before, protecting her from gunfire, but the leaves that carpeted the forest floor provided so much cushion that she hardly felt a twinge of discomfort.

He knelt beside her, slipping a hand beneath her chin and tilting her head back, pressing his mouth to hers. His lips were hot and soft, his kiss demanding, and for a few moments, she forgot about everything else.

Even the mark she was about to carry … forever.

When he pulled away, the air hit her lips, stealing the heat of his kiss, but not the fire he’d sparked inside her.

“This’ll hurt,” he said. “But I’ll make it quick. I promise.”

“I trust you,” she breathed, thinking of the way he’d sheltered her with his own body the night before, willing to absorb any bullets that might fly in her direction.

He lowered his mouth to her neck and kissed a slow trail south, until his breath rushed against her shoulder. She raised a hand to touch him and found her fingers buried in fur.

He was true to his word. One of his ears brushed her jaw, soft as down, and before she could so much as exhale, he closed his jaws on her shoulder, clamping down hard and fast. By the time starbursts of light erupted in front of her eyes, he was human again and cradling her in his arms.

She hadn’t even realized she’d slumped against him, hadn’t had a chance to exhale or draw a breath. Finally, she gasped.

“You all right?” He slipped a hand beneath her chin again, forcing her to look up.

Slowly, she touched her right hand to her left shoulder, feeling warmth and wetness. “Yes. Fine.”

“Not yet,” he said, tightening his embrace when she tried to rise.

She didn’t argue, mostly because she didn’t mind spending a few more moments in his arms.
 

When he moved, it was to pick up the flannel shirt he’d been wearing over a cotton tee. Instead of putting it back on, he wrapped it around her, pressing the fabric gently against her bite wound, absorbing the blood that had welled up and begun to stream over her skin. “Hold on a minute,” he said. “I’ll get you a real bandage.”

Opening the first aid kit, he sorted through the gauze, medical tape and disinfectant with expert efficiency. Watching him, it was impossible not to wonder whether he’d done this before … whether he’d had to plaster his wounds, alone, with temporary dressings, holding back the flow of blood until the sun set and moonlight beamed down. Eyeing the scars on his torso and arms, she swallowed a knot that had sprung into her throat, thick and heavy.

When he’d finished cleaning and patching her shoulder up, she slipped her arms through the flannel’s oversized sleeves, breathing in his scent, which clung to the fabric. Pine and forest, tinged with the clean fragrance of aftershave – she’d never get tired of it.

He left his t-shirt in the leaves but pulled on his jeans, reaching into the pocket.

“What’s that for?” she asked when he withdrew a small knife.

He pressed something, and a blade popped free. It was only a few inches long, but the point looked wickedly sharp. “A wolf doesn’t just mark his mate – they mark each other.”

She felt her eyes go wide as she eyed the expanse of his bare shoulders and his words registered. “With
that
? You want me to cut you?”

His gaze didn’t waver as he extended the weapon, offering it to her handle-first. “This won’t hurt any more than a set of fangs. Hell, it’ll probably hurt less.”

As she eyed the blade, her instincts warred with his words. Raise a weapon against the man she loved – the man whose life she’d spent years fearing for – even in the name of ceremony? It seemed barbaric. Cruel.

“I’m not asking you to cut my heart out. I’m asking you to mark me, like I did you.” A ghost of a smile played across his face. “I’ve got plenty of scars – remembering how I got this one will be a lot sweeter than thinking of the others.”

“I don’t know if I can do it – hurt you like that, I mean.” Yes, she was touched that he wanted to wear a mark from her, that he was willing to go to such lengths. Still, the idea of drawing his blood made hers run cold, even though he’d marked her with his own teeth, had tasted her blood.

“If it makes you feel any better, bear shifters use their claws when they mark their mates, not their teeth. Not much different than using a knife, if you ask me.”