Coveted (10 page)

But first thing
first. “Gentlemen, you may have your meeting later, but Aiden needs to be seen
by a doctor and get some rest.”

No one even paused.

“I said
stop
!”
Her voice rang in the hall, echoing around her, and everyone halted.

As in all at once.

Then, very slowly,
they all turned toward her.

Her gaze clashed with
Aiden’s. Let him posture and threatened all he wanted. She wasn’t afraid of
him, especially not when he was about to fall on his face.

“You need to have
your injuries dressed. You need a shower. When’s the last time you ate
something that wasn’t rotten?” She turned toward the large man at Aiden’s side.
“Mac, right? Surely you can give him a couple of hours to recover before
putting him to work.”

* * *

Aiden stopped at
Shayla’s voice.

Static charged the
air, and every wolf came to attention.

They had no choice.
Her words were a command. They hit his bones in a way that made him want to
obey and do whatever she asked. She obviously had no clue she had such power.
As an alpha, he could break her order. He expected his wolf to be furious at
the challenge, but the damned mutt only sat, content to let someone else take
care of him, even if she was a human.

But she wasn’t just a
human, not if she could command his wolves. There were no female wolves. But beyond
her intoxicating citrus scent, he detected nothing supernatural about her. That
made her dangerous. A threat. He marched toward her, and grabbed her arm.

“Hey, watch it.” She
scowled up at him.

He instantly gentled
his hold, but didn’t dare let her loose to create more havoc. The wolves around
them inched closer, a hair’s breadth away from taking her from him. He bared
his fangs, and then all but dragged her along behind him as he stormed up the stairs.

He had to get her
away from the pack.

If one of them
touched her, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stop himself from attacking his own
men, not if it meant keeping her safe.

Halfway up the
stairs, he glanced back to see Mac staring after them, looking ready to intervene.
And Aiden had no idea if it would be to defend him or take Shayla. He gave his
second in command a curt nod. “We meet in three hours.”

Aiden easily scaled
the stairs, had his hand on the door, when someone cleared his throat. Mac. He
knew it even before he turned. Aiden stiffened, placing himself in front of
Shayla. Mac opened the door next to Aiden’s room. “It would be safer for
everyone if she stays here.”

Aiden wanted to
protest, didn’t want to let her out of his sight. She had a habit of getting
into trouble and wiggling out of tight places. But Mac was right. For her
safety, she would be better off alone. He didn’t need her scent filling his
room, mucking up his ability to concentrate.

The men wouldn’t dare
touch her, not after he’d made it clear that she was under his protection. But
to stand aside and let her pass was…nearly impossible. They’d been together
since she’d fallen into his life. Separating from her felt like tearing off his
own skin.

To prove to himself
that he was in control, he stepped away, pressed his back against the wall and stared
straight ahead. If he looked her now, he couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t toss
her over his shoulder, lock his door, and keep her in his room until he worked
her out of his system and discovered the truth she so desperately wanted to
hide.

By rescuing him, she had
put herself in danger. They’d seen her. If they captured her and discovered her
ability to control wolves, she could become the pack’s downfall.

 Chapter Eleven

S
hayla balked at leaving
Aiden. He’d gone through a lot of trouble to keep her alive. Although he might
be a bit rough around the edges and so unreasonable at times that she wanted to
scream, he was the only familiar thing in this new world.

Even now, she sensed
the other men on the stairway. If she asked to stay by his side, even though he
was hurt, he would fight to keep her.

But Shayla refused
let her fears dictate her choices anymore. She needed to bide her time. She’d
go to the room, clean up, then figure out what the hell was going on.

Tension in the
hallway splintered when she nodded and eased past Aiden. She heard him inhale,
and her spine prickled in anticipation.

And nothing.

She glanced back to
see Aiden staring straight ahead, his hands firmly behind his back, still as a
statue. She deflated a little and turned toward Mac. “Make sure he takes care
of those wounds and eats some decent food before talking business.”

The giant man gave her
a slight bow. “You have my word.”

The instant she
crossed the threshold, the door slammed shut behind her with a resounding thud.
Shayla whirled and heard something scrape against the door. She rushed toward
the door and yanked on the handle.

The blasted thing
wouldn’t budge.

Freaking
Neanderthals!
“Aiden, you let me out of here right this instant.”

She waited, but there
wasn’t a peep from the hallway. “You son of a bitch. At least give me my bag!”

Shayla barely
refrained from beating on the door. When she got her hands on that man, she
would make him sorry. She’d cause so much trouble that he couldn’t wait to get
rid of her. But for now, she had to bid her time. She turned and thumped the
back of her head against the door, sliding down to sit on the floor. She’d held
her own against her stalker, so she should be able to manage a bunch of
backwater men with her hands tied behind her back.

Not that Aiden had
threatened her exactly. He’d actually taken care to ensure she didn’t come to
harm. She hated that she still tingled from his touch, that she felt more alive
than she had in a long time.

But this whole
adventure hammered home one important point.

Fairy tales and men
on white horses weren’t real. There were no werewolves to guard against evil,
and Aiden was not hers. If her heart gave a painful thump in denial, she
ignored it.

It was time to be
practical about her future.

She’d settle down
with a decent man without having to struggle every few minutes between wanting
to either smack him upside the head or kiss him. Caring was exhausting, it
muddled her up, and she hated not being in charge of her own destiny.

She rubbed her nose,
trying to block a persistent smell. A stench that only grew stronger the longer
she sat there. She sniffed cautiously, then lifted her arm and inhaled.

And nearly gagged.

The stink seemed to
emanate from her skin. Mortification burned her face. No wonder they’d locked
her in a room by herself.

Enough moping, it was
time to act.

Shayla stood and
surveyed her prison. She had to admit, it was better than where she’d found
Aiden. The only other door led to a modern bathroom that didn’t look like it’d
ever been used. Similar to the rest of the fortress, the room was sumptuous and
nearly twice the size of her room at the inn.

The furniture in the
bedroom was massive, every detail hand-carved. And too heavy to move or use as
a weapon. The two pictures on the walls were actual weavings. Ancient stained
glass covered the windows, the view breathtaking…from three stories high. That
nixed any plans to escape out the window unless she learned to fly.

The large four-poster
bed took up a third of the room and stood smack in the center. She skimmed her
hand over the plush cover a little wistfully, her palms sinking a good three
inches.

The room was stately
but neglected. A light layer of dust coated the surfaces, a faint musty smell
lingered in the air, and she suspected that the room had been sealed for years.

Her shoulders slumped
in exhaustion, the room inviting her to relax and allow someone else to take
care of everything. Whatever trouble had found Aiden, it wasn’t her mess. He would
be rid of her tomorrow.

Her heart gave a
queer lurch at the thought of never seeing him again, and that pissed her off
more. But why lock her in a room?

It’s not like she
could go anywhere when she didn’t know where the hell the castle was located.

Then her spin snapped
straight.

There was only one
reason to keep her.

They wanted something
from her.

Aiden’s questions
about her profession now made sense. Her stomach clench and terror spread like
wildfire, threatening to eat her from the inside out. She could do small
tricks, find trinkets.

She didn’t do people.

Ever.

She could understand
Aiden’s reasoning. If their roles were reversed, she might have done the same
thing.

But no matter what he
said, she wouldn’t relent.

Entering the Frost
World meant facing the wraiths, vengeful ghosts who would do anything to return
to the human world. She could fight off one or two, but anything more and she
was a dead woman.

And she couldn’t just
enter once and magically find whomever they wanted. She’d have to enter
repeatedly, stay longer, each time drawing more and more attention from the
other world.

She’d never make it
out alive.

She paced the room,
her skin itching with the need to escape.

No one could make her
do anything if she flat-out refused. They had no real evidence she was anything
but a damned good investigator.

She released a heavy
breath and rubbed her neck. Until she had proof of what they wanted with her,
she would use the time to relax and stubbornly outwait him until he gave up.
And right now, she wanted a shower.

She glared at the
door one final time, then stripped. Heated water on her skin felt glorious.
After ten minutes, the water finally began to run clean. By the time the hot
water turned warm, both the mud and her anger were gone.

Her clothes were
un-wearable, stained with blood and so much mud they’d never regain their
original shape. Unfortunately, the outfit was officially the last of the
clothes she owned, thanks to her stalker’s latest visit, and she was loath to
leave them. A search of the room yielded only dresses carefully stored in a
trunk.

There were dozens of them
in an assortment of colors. The girl in her wanted to plunder the treasure, until
she realized they must belong to someone important to Aiden. These weren’t costumes.
Their near-perfect condition, not to mention their age, made them priceless.
Hell, the room looked like the woman had just up and left…a hundred and fifty years
ago.

Shayla stopped
stalling and finally picked the simplest gown. The mystery woman must have been
built like a model, all tall and leggy. The fabric pooled around her feet,
shimmering when she moved. She looked in the mirror and saw her bust nearly
spilled over the top. She took a few experimental breaths to make sure she wouldn’t
actually burst out of the dress. Once she was assured her assets would stay
put, she decided it was time to snoop.

Shayla ruthlessly
smothered any misgivings. She wasn’t invading his privacy or betraying his
trust. It was like a rule…locking up a girl automatically gave her the right to
pry into their life. Then there was the fact that her life was in danger, and
he wasn’t telling her squat. She needed to learn who her enemies were before
she decided her next move.

Eyes closed, she
called upon the flame built into her bones. Embers flared. Heat welled beneath
her ribs, spilling through her chest. Eyes still closed, she followed the pull
that seemed to tug at her very soul.

And came to an abrupt
stop, her way blocked by a wall.

Her brows furrowed,
and she placed her hands on the smooth blocks. There had to be something here,
and a secret thrill tripped through her at the prospect of outsmarting Aiden.

She trailed her hands
over the cold stone, and unleashed her gift. Her palms tingled at one
particular spot, and she ran the tips of her fingers over that area. One of the
stones sank a fraction under her probing, and she put her weight against the surface.

A whole section moved
with a light rumble of stones rubbing against stone. Shadows lurked in the
passageway, and her gift dropped away with a suddenness that left her shivering.
Doubts about her ability to elude Aiden came screeching back. But if she wanted
to stay alive, she needed to learn more about the people who’d tried to kill
them and why. Ignorance would only put her in more danger.

Taking a deep breath,
Shayla did what needed to be done…and stepped into the darkness. The passageway
was short, more of a false wall. She was about to admit defeat when she heard
male voices.

Aiden.

She jerked back, her heart
in her throat as she waited to be discovered. Why would her gift betray her and
lead her to him? When no shouts sounded, curiosity got the best of her, and she
pressed her ear to the wall.

“She would be safer
if you sent her away.”

“How can you say
that? They saw her. They know she helped me. They will go after her.” Anger
throbbed in Aiden’s voice, his Scottish burr thick with agitation.

A ray of light slashed
through the darkness, as if they’d turned on a light. Unable to resist, Shayla
crept toward the crack, stooping a tad to peer through the slit in the wall.

Clothes blocked her
view. She must be looking through a closet. Shayla shifted a bit and glanced into
the room beyond, then was struck dumb by the large expanse of naked skin only
feet from her.

She sucked in a sharp
breath, and air lodged in her throat so fast she nearly choked. Of their own
accord, her eyes trailed over the mouth-watering back, easily recognizing Aiden’s
broad shoulders.

She should turn away,
grant him a modicum of privacy, but…couldn’t. Without the grime, his ribs were distinct.
It should’ve made him look sick and malnourished. It only made his muscles
appear all the more well-defined.

Bruises covered him.
Hundreds of long, thin scars marred his back. She’d suspected he had been
tortured, but seeing the actual proof sickened her. Then she noticed the wound
on his side had sealed shut, the injury only a thin line.

She must have misjudged
the severity in the dark.

No one could heal
that fast.

At least no one
human.

Shayla quickly shook
her head, second-guessing her decision to spy. Experience warned her that it
would only lead her into more trouble. She started to retreat and give him privacy,
when the towel around his waist dropped.

All thoughts of fairy
tales and snooping dissolved in an instant.

Shayla had always
admired the male anatomy, but she’d never had the pleasure to drooling over
anatomy quite like his. Her fingers twitched to explore. When he bent to pull
on a pair of jeans, Shayla pressed her face against the cool stone.

When he turned and strode
toward her, Shayla reared back, terrified of being caught peeking at him like a
voyeur.

When no one demanded
she show herself, Shayla rushed forward to see him tug on a black shirt, slowly
covering up the amazing six-pack. At one time the fabric would’ve stretched
over his form, emphasizing all that hunkiness. Now the shirt hung loose. Even
with the weight loss, though, he looked yummy enough to taste. The clothes were
chosen for practicality, just like everything else in the closet, but on him
the utilitarian outfit looked sexy as hell.

Shayla shook her head
to banish the lust building up in her blood. She couldn’t allow herself to
forget that he was the rude caveman from the dungeon.