Hunger of the Heart (Wolves of Ravenwillow Book 1) (7 page)

Unsure how to deal with his willful human, he lied, “You look like a street walker, if you weren’t dressed like this; you wouldn’t have to worry about Damon coming on to you. Remember to dress more appropriately from now on and we won’t have to worry about you attracting unwanted attention from my workers.”

His wolf practically wagged his tail at the sight of fire leaping into her eyes; he had become very fond of her temper. It had become his greatest ally in fighting this new born attraction to her that he couldn’t fandom, and was the only thing that kept him from reaching out and taking her as he wished to.

“
A street walker
?” advancing on him, Rebecca now had Eric backing up, startled. “ Let me tell you something, Eric; I will not apologize for how I look and if it bothers you so much I’d be happy to scratch your eyes out!” she raged, her finger jabbing into his chest warningly.

During watching her rage at him, something shifted inside him. Some strange invisible force seemed to make being this close to her unbearable. As if he’d go mad if he didn’t touch her. The scent of her anger rose from her pores mixed with her personal alluring scent. Eric suddenly couldn’t get enough.

Before either of them knew what was happening, Eric’s hands gripped around her upper armed, jerking her stiff form against his. Bending down his lips covered hers in breathless urgency. Shocked; Rebecca froze under his assault. His tongue swept past her lips and into her gasping mouth.

His hands moved from her arms up to grip her unraveling ponytail and holding the back of her head still for his exploration. Leaving the haven of her mouth, his teeth nipped and pulled at her bottom lip before his tongue swept teasing over the plump flesh.

Rebecca felt herself being pulled inevitably closer to Eric through his kiss. How long had she wanted this? How long had she dreaded this? Her body softened against his hard frame, warm sensations from his gripping hands in her hair and the soft scratching of his nails against the back of her skull began to pour over her, causing goose bumps to rise on her arms.

As he broke away from her swollen lips, the temptation to pull him closer almost was her undoing, until Eric’s husky voice broke through the heavy fog that covered her brain.

“Rebecca.” Her name whispered from his parted lips, as his chest rose and fell with exhilaration.

His eyes burned over her flushed features and panting lips, his green irises illuminated in the darkness of the hallway. Instead of being fearful of the unnatural glow, Rebecca felt herself being drawn closer by the beautiful glowing orbs that gazed gently down at her.

Forcing his glowing eyes to darken to normal, Eric strived to put some distance between their desire ridden bodies. “You invite too much unwanted attention, causing males do things they would never do otherwise.”

Jerking away from his warm hand that still held the back of her head, Rebecca rubbed furiously at her lips as she tried to rid herself of the delicious taste of him. The overwhelming desire for his strong body quickly turned to self loathing.

Did he mean that he wouldn’t have kissed her if she hadn’t enticed him in some unknowing way? How dare him! He was the one to kiss
her!
Ignoring his still glowing eyes, Rebecca swung her hand at his face before giving it a second thought. Her hand stung as it met Eric across his face. Not waiting around to see his reaction, Rebecca raced down the stairs. Stopping in the kitchen to grab her purse she was surprised to see Damon leaning against the bar pulling a water bottle from his firm lips, a questioning look on his face.

Setting the bottle on the bar, he slowly began to approach her. “Are you okay?” His eyes filled with curious concern.

Glaring up at him as she snatched her purse off the bar, releasing a huff of breath. “You can pick me up at eight.” Without another word she opened the front door, slamming is behind her for good measure. Storming over to her car, she jerked the door open in anger.

Inviting unwanted attention? I’ll show him unwanted attention!

Rolling over, Rebecca gave up on her futile attempts to sleep in. All night her dreams had been plagued with visions of Eric kissing her, loving her, his warms rough hands roaming over her flushed skin.

              With a cry of disgust, she tossed her pillow across the room, wishing she could have hit
him
with it instead of the wall. Swinging her legs out of bed, she climbed out of her small bed, padding bare foot into the connecting bathroom, her long t-shirt falling barely past her flexing buttocks.

              Bending over the small tub, turning on the water she adjusted the water temperature to her liking. Leaving the water running she returned to her bedroom in search of a change of clothes. Just as she’d reached her small dresser the shrill sound of her phone on her bedside table grabbed her attention. Crossing to examine the caller I.D. she let out a grunt of disgust as the name:
Daniels, Eric,
flashed on the small lit up screen.

What does he want now?

She was tempted to let the phone continue to ring. It would serve him right to have to talk to her answering machine. After all; her answering machine would show him the same range of consideration that he deserved; none. Inhaling a steady breath her thin fingers curled around the black cordless phone and held it up to her ear.

“What?” her voice was less than friendly.

“Rebecca? What’s wrong? You sound upset.”

Rebecca was forced to bite down on her lip to keep from yelling into the phone,
Upset? Try pissed off, wolf man!
  “I’m fine. Why are you calling me?”

“You left rather abrupt last night. I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“You’re the reason I left
abrupt
last night, Eric.”

“That’s why I called. I wanted to apologize for the kiss. I can’t think why I would behave like that much less with you. So I’m sorry.”

Much less with you…
What was that suppose to mean? Was he ashamed that he’d lowered his lupine self to kiss a mere human, as though she were beneath him? Seething with rage, Rebecca felt her volcano of anger over flow and explode.

“You know what, Eric? I’ll see you on Monday, but until then why don’t you go jump off a cliff!” stabbing one of the top buttons she disconnected the call. After slamming the phone back on its stand, she walked not two feet away before it rang again.

Storming back, she jerked the phone to her ear. “What?!” her chest rose and fell as her anger slowly drained with her outburst. Silence for the other end met her rage filled words. “Well? Did you call to talk to the street walker?”

“Actually, I called to talk to my extremely attractive date for tonight.” The teasing voice of Damon floated through the earpiece, causing her to wince.

“Oh, Damon it’s you...”

He chuckled softly. “At your service, so what was that about a street walker?”

Laughing nervously, she began pacing the length of her small bedroom. “I thought you were someone else. Wait, how did you get my number?” She asked freezing in midstride.

“After Eric ordered me downstairs last night, I went through his cell phone for your number. By the way do you know what you’re listed under in his contacts?
"MY CURSE",”

“Why did you call?” she asked, choosing to ignore his comment about Eric’s cell phone.

“Just to make sure you weren’t planning on backing out on our date.”

She had almost forgotten how she had agreed—well more like decreed that he could pick her up. When Eric had kissed her, she remembered feeling startled, confused and then desired; up until he had told her that she was inviting unwanted attention. Why shouldn’t she go out with Damon? She deserved happiness, even if for just for a while.

“Of course not, I’ll see you at eight.” Without any hindrance she agreed to meet him at the restaurant. Murmuring a quick goodbye, she hung up the phone, surprised that she was actually looking forward to tonight.

The excitement over her impending date quickly faded and was replaced with the icy feeling of fear, fear that had her heart squeezing tightly in her chest. How could she have forgotten? Damon was a close friend of Eric’s, did that mean he was a shifter too? In her mind she could see Damon teasing face turning cold as the form of a terrifying wolf over took his handsome features as he lunged for her exposed throat, her hand flew to her neck as her eyes widened in terror.

Shaking her head, she pushed the gore filled thoughts from her head. Chances were that she’d never see Damon again after tonight anyway, she wasn’t all that convinced that he wasn’t interested in her beyond pissing off Eric. The idea of Eric’s reaction to finding out that she and Damon would be together tonight was almost too much for her smiling face to take.

After witnessing the way he’d reacted when seeing Damon standing close to her, holding her hand tenderly, she knew Eric was attracted to her on some level. This is why she was not missing her date for nothing.  Nothing would please her more than watching him twist with envy, once he found out.

* ~ * ~ *

Pacing back and forth across his office, Eric was unable to take his eyes off the phone that sat untouched on the cluttered desk. There was no lie he could tell himself for the reason why he’d dialed Rebecca’s number. After their encounter last night, his wolf was unreasonable, causing him to crave her even more than usual. He was beyond restless, feeling as though he’d destroy anything he’d touch if he couldn’t have her in his presence.

Hours earlier; in a moment of desperation, he’d called her. The sound of her irritated voice had startled him, but just hearing her still felt like a soothing balm for the worst of his tight, burning skin. She may just be a mortal, but she had the temper of a she-wolf, with jaws snapping at him for insulting her and God help him it made him want her more.

Never before had he been so connected to his wolf aside from shifting when their souls joined as one. Now he could hear his wolf’s thoughts, his feelings and desires as his own, a torn part of him had begun to mend back together. What had caused this change in him, in his wolf?

Mate…
the familiar deep rumbling voice echoed in the walls of Eric’s mind.

He knew now that it was his inner wolf and the realization terrified him. The only reason a shifter’s inner beast fully emerged was when their beast sensed their true mate near. She was the one person in the world that completed both man and beast, his true mate. A mate beyond worth or description. Could this explain his unexplainable mood swings? Was this what the mated wolves had meant? Had the feeling of completeness and other stronger, indescribable emotions mean not just the finding of his destined female, but becoming whole with the wolf inside him?

Mate.
The voice now growled through his mind once more.

What mate?
Eric finally asked. Every second the thoughts of his wolf sounded—
felt
more as his own.

Our mate; Find her and claim her now. I do not want to be apart from our mate.
His wolf whispered with a beseeching tone before a growl rumbled out.
  Find her.

Eric found himself scoffing, his head shaking with disbelief. This was ridiculous. He didn’t have a mate and it certainly wasn’t Rebecca, the forbidden mortal. Why would the fates be so cruel to him? Forcing him to wait for his true mate and then to present a fragile mortal to him, a woman that he would forever long for but would never possess.

She is ours…

She is not ours.
Eric responded adamantly to his inner beast. Communicating with his beast felt strange, but a freeing rush coursed through him at the same time.
It is forbidden to claim a human as a mate and even if it weren’t you know the pack laws as much as I do.

Others have taken a human mate before, it is only impossible because you allow your stubbornness to cloud your mind.
His wolf argued.

We are not bears!
Eric yelled through his thoughts.

He refused to believe it. He would prove to his stubborn wolf that she wasn’t his mate that was causing his basic instincts to go haywire, but the lustful idea of tasting the forbidden fruit that he was denied.

Snatching up the phone, he quickly redialed her number; after he saw her in person he’d be able to put all this disputable nonsense to rest.

* ~ * ~ *

Where the hell is it?

In a panicked rush, Rebecca dumped the contents of her makeup bag into the porcelain sink, each item making a loud crashing sound on impact. Sifting through the pile, she searched desperately for her lipstick. Go three years without a date and no use for makeup, much less lipstick and when you really need it, it’s gone.

After Eric and Damon’s calls, she had enjoyed her day off thoroughly, first with a long hot bubble bath and then by curling up on her couch with a romance novel and her favorite soap opera playing in the background, Then spending two precious hours making herself presentable for her date tonight, saving makeup for last.

Releasing a sigh of relief, her fingers closed around the thin cylinder shaped tube of scarlet red lip stick. Bending closer to the mirror, she very carefully brought the exposed tip of her lipstick to her upper lip. Her hand jerked off course when the startling sound of her phone erupted through the silence of her bathroom/bedroom.

Grabbing a tissue, she wiped away the spear of red across her cheek as she walked to the phone. Not bothering to look at the caller I.D. this time, she plucked up the phone, cradling it against the side of her face and her shoulder as she returned in front of her bathroom mirror.

“Hello?” she answered while concentrating once more on applying lipstick to her parted lips. Instead of hearing a return response, only silence greeted her. “Hello?” she repeated, seconds away from just hanging up.

“You sound like you’re in a better mood.”

The sound of Eric’s smooth voice had chills racing up her spine, at least before her hard resolve fell into place. “What do you want, Eric?”

“I thought I’d treat you to dinner to apologize for my behavior last night. Interested?” he asked in a way that told Rebecca that he’d expected her to agree. His arrogance was so heavy that it seemed to float from the phone.

“No, thank you.” As soon as the words left her mouth she could have sworn she heard a barely audible growl floating from the background.

Let him growl, he’s not getting his way this time.
She thought smugly

“Why not?” His voice rumbled out.

“I’m busy tonight, doing
street walker
things if you must know.” She snapped, turning to her right, tugging open the third drawer of the mounted linen cabinet. Reaching beneath a neatly folded stack of towels, she withdrew a small, hidden box. Inside was a collection of her most valued jewelry; all that she had left of her mother. Selecting a simple necklace she turned back to the mirror, still holding the phone to her ear.

“Is that why you’re upset with me?” when she didn’t answer, feeling his wolf becoming more anxious, causing him to pace around his desk before he continued, “I didn’t mean it, Rebecca.” She still didn’t answer. What should he say?

“Eric, why did you
really
call? Are you bored and just wanted to torment me on my day off?”

Rubbing a hand against the back of his neck, he slowly settled in the chair behind his desk. “Possibly,”

“Well it will have to wait until after my date tonight. Speaking of; I need to finish getting—”

Outraged; Eric leapt from his chair, nearly crushing the phone with his lupine strength. “Date? What date? You have a date?”

“Aren’t those all roughly the same question?”

A growl rumbled deep in his chest, while his wolf snarled at the idea of an unseen male courting
his
Rebecca. “Who is he?”

“Why do you care?” she asked uncaringly, while adjusting the simple oval, moonstone pendant necklace over the slope of her throat.

While gritting his teeth, his fist clenched tightly around the plastic phone as he fought his rising temper. “At least tell me his name.”
So I know who to kill…

“Eric, I really don’t have time for this.”

“You’ll make time!” he bit out, sounding as though his words came out through clenched teeth. “Where did you meet this guy anyway? How do you know he’s not some psycho?”

Shrugging out of her terry bathrobe, standing in nothing but her red lacy bra and panties, she reached out for her folded purple blouse and black slacks on the edge of the sink. After pulling up her thin slacks, her eyes were drawn back to her reflection and her scars that seemed to illuminate against her pale colored skin.

Her hand hesitantly reached up to trace the white, raised scars that marred her soft skin, Scars from angry claws and lethal teeth, which had torn her skin like a knife slicing through butter. One scar was a short four claw slash from the center of her collar bone, across the swell of her right breast. Turning slightly to the left, in the mirror she surveyed the second scar leading from the back of her right shoulder and sloped diagonally down to her right hip.