Moonsong (11 page)

“So, he thinks he’s cursed because he didn’t use a condom?” Amelia cocked a brow at that one and Scarlett giggled again.

“No, she had the baby and they lived together over on Cutter Way in their big ol’ family home. Everybody thought they were happy as clams for a couple of years. He started working on a fishing boat and Celia, his wife, she settled in to raise their little boy.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” Where did the curse come into play she wondered?

“Except that apparently being a fisherman’s wife didn’t sit so well with Celia and she started… running around if you catch my drift.”

“Oh… I see.”

“Nobody knows if he knew about it and didn’t care, or if he was too busy out working to notice, but then little Ian died and it blew them apart, there was nothing left to hold onto.”

“Oh God, their little boy died?” Pity welled up for anyone to have suffered through something like that.

Scarlett nodded solemnly. “Celia was supposedly entertaining a gentleman caller when the little boy got up from his nap and wandered out of the house and into the woods. They never found him.”

“Then they don’t know for sure if he died?”

“Trust me, if that little boy was still alive, Cutter would have found him. He went crazy insane when he found out what happened. Pulled off his clothes and shifted to wolf right there in front of the search party and took off after him trying to track him. Adele was absolutely livid that he’d done such a thing in front of so many witnesses but… I mean you can understand why he did it.”

Amelia nodded, feeling in her heart that Scarlett was definitely talking about the man she’d met in the woods the day before.

“Anyway, he never found the little boy and he’s the best tracker in the pack. Others helped with the search, of course, and so did the local law enforcement. It’s like he disappeared off the face of the earth,” she said sadly. “Cutter didn’t come home for weeks and when he did it was to an empty house. Celia ran off, leaving him a note. I don’t know what it said, but the story goes he was so upset, he cursed the Gods for what they’d done to him. He’s been cut off from most people ever since. He stopped living in the big house and moved to a little cabin in the woods. For a few years nobody saw him at all, we all assumed he either moved away too or went rogue.”

“What does that mean, went rogue?”

“When you give up your human form and choose to remain in wolf form, cut off from your pack, like a wild animal, that’s what going rogue means,” she replied solemnly. “But then he started showing up in town again for supplies, keeping to himself. He only ever talks to Jack at the trading post and a couple of his old buddies in the Muddy Rudder sometimes. For the most part he just grunts at you if you try to talk to him.”

“That sounds like Cutter alright,” Millie snorted before she realized what she’d said, and it was Scarlett’s turn to gasp in surprise.

“You’ve met him?”

“I… yeah, I met him out in the woods yesterday,” she hedged, recalling how he said her grandmother would be less than thrilled by the revelation.

Scarlett guided her outside before she pressed her for more details. “So spill, did he actually say anything to you, or was it like he just stepped around you and moved on?” she asked, eyes dancing with excitement.

“No, he talked to me, eventually anyway. He ah… well he sort of saved my life,” Amelia admitted, unsure what else to say in the face of her cousin’s enthusiasm.

Eyes round as saucers, Scarlett grabbed her arm. “Shut up! He saved your life? How?” Amelia took a deep breath and briefly described the scene in the woods with the mountain lion, downplaying the danger as much as she could, as well as his injuries. “Then that’s whose blood was on you when you got home?”

“Not
that
friendly. He just stopped trying to toss me out after that. Then he passed out and I couldn’t leave him there. Let me ask you something, is it normal for shifters to pass out and burn up with fever after being wounded?”

“After a serious wound, yes. It’s very common,” Scarlett nodded. “It’s the body’s reaction to our metabolism shifting into high gear to repair the damage. You fall into a deep sleep and when you awake you’re usually pretty weak and ravenous for a while, but we heal very, very fast.”

“That must come in handy.”

“It’s a good thing you came home when you did, that would have been an interesting scene for Chase to walk in on,” Scarlett snorted in laughter.

“Why, doesn’t he like Cutter?”

“It’s not about Cutter; I don’t think he’d like you being in any other man’s house alone.”

“Why not? It’s not like we were in there for some afternoon delight or anything. Besides, Chase and I, we’re not… I mean like I said, there’s only been one kiss between us.”

“But he’s declared his interest for you,” Scarlett replied matter of factly.

“Declared his interest…” Millie sighed, it must be one of those pack things again. “Scarlett, I like your brother fine, but I just got here, I’m not planning on choosing a mate at any time soon if that’s what he’s thinking.”

“I know. But Chase is used to getting things his way, patience isn’t his strong suit. Just try to be as upfront with him as possible, okay?”

“I think I’ve been pretty upfront with him about my feelings so far.”

“But you didn’t tell him you spent time at Cutter’s cabin.”

“Well no, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal, besides… Cutter said I can never go back there.” Her gaze went out over the water, watching the boats coming into the harbor. Scarlett studied her cousin for a long moment, the silence stretching between them.

“But you want to see him again?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Amelia shook her head. “He said Grandmother would blow a gasket if she knew I’d been out there.”

“She might not like it, that’s true. Adele was furious when he cut himself off from the pack and abandoned his duties. Do you think he wants to see you again?”

Thinking back to their last exchange before he’d sent her on her way, the way he’d touched her face so gently, the timbre of his voice… She’d seen regret in his eyes even as he propelled her towards the door. Was she reading too much into that single touch? After all, he’d seemed eager enough for her to leave him alone. “I don’t know.”

Chapter Eleven

There was someone in his house.

If he hadn’t been so damned distracted dragging the huge piece of wood back to the cabin, he might have scented it in the air or heard something. But as it was, Cutter had only seconds to react when he heard the door being pulled open from the inside. Immediately his hand cocked back, ready to throw the first punch before he realized who it was poking around in his cabin.

Amelia froze on her way out the door, an almost comical look of surprise on her face as she came face to face with Cutter, a dusty throw rug in her hands.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing in my house?” he demanded, shaking with fury. Not because she was trespassing, but because he’d come dangerously close to hurting her. He’d almost shifted his hand to razor sharp claws; he could have easily scarred her for life!

Amelia’s face fell at his outburst. “Nice to see you too,” she returned sourly, stepping back to let him past her.

Moving inside, Cutter could see the signs of her handiwork around the place. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more, that she thought she had the right to barge in there uninvited or the fact that his lungs felt tight in his chest at the sight of her again, just as beautiful as she’d been in his dreams each night since they’d met. The dreams that made him wake each morning sick with longing for things he could never have again.

“Exactly which part of ‘don’t come back here’ was unclear?” he muttered, stepping back outside to fetch the huge hunk of wood he’d been carrying back to the cabin, having a little trouble getting it to fit through the door.

Amelia followed him out, shaking the rug vigorously, her face scrunched up at the dust and dirt that flew. “I came to check up on you and bring you something,” she replied once she was done, moving right past him to replace the rug in its original position.

She brought him a gift?
“Yeah well, as you can see I’m fine, so…” he nodded towards the door. With a roll of the eyes, Millie simply picked up the next rug and repeated the process, paying no attention to his not so subtle suggestion. Cutter watched her, stunned that she was ignoring him in his own home. Maybe he’d fallen asleep out in the woods and it was another one of his dreams? “Amelia, we talked about this, about it being a bad idea for you to be here…” he tried again, slowly and rationally.

Sneezing at the dust, it took her a moment to reply, only doing so as she stepped back over his threshold again. “You talked, I listened; not exactly the same thing. Relax Cutter, I’m not moving in, I came to bring you something and check on your stitches. Should you really be lugging around a big piece of wood like that in your condition?” she frowned as she replaced the second rug.

“In my condition?” he snorted. “I told you, I’m fine, I’m a fast healer.”

“So I hear. Still, I want to take a look at it, make sure there’s no sign of infection. Take off your shirt,” she ordered, bending to pull out his medicine box from the cabinet.

“Amelia…” Cutter pinched the bridge of his nose; he could feel a tension headache coming on.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby, take your shirt off or I’ll have to cut if off you.” Millie held up the medical scissors and snipped them a couple of times for emphasis, pushing him back towards the table and chairs.

“Alright, but once you see I’m just fine you have to leave, deal?”

“That’s gratitude for you, I come all the way out here to make sure you’re not at death’s door, bring you a thank you gift, and all you wanna do is get rid of me,” she sighed, leaning against the table as she waited for him to take his shirt off.

At death’s door; where did she get that idea?
Cutter pulled off his t-shirt, revealing a broadly muscled chest, not covered by an undershirt that day. “Thanks for this by the way, the guys got a real hoot out of your color choice,” he said dryly, pointing to the bright pink thread she’d sewn him up with.

“Why, real men can’t wear pink?” she snorted, leaning closer to get a good look at the wound. The skin was slightly swollen and pink but the wound knit together as he’d predicted. “Amazing…” she breathed, fingers reaching out to lightly trace over the puckered skin.

About to say something in response to her pink comment, the words died in Cutter’s throat as her fingers skimmed lightly over the sensitive flesh, overwhelmed for a moment by the scent of her dark hair falling over her shoulder to graze against his bare skin. She smelled of strawberries and her own unique scent, the same scent that had just started to fade from his pillow where she’d rested the other day. Her fingers continued their exploration, tracing over the tattoo that lay over his heart in a tribal design.

Knowing he shouldn’t allow her that kind of freedom with his body no matter what it stirred inside him, or
because
of what it stirred within, his hand rose up to catch her wrist, gently staying her hand. “Amelia…” he breathed, unable to work up much bluster. Amelia’s eyes dropped to his mouth, tongue darting out to moisten her lips. The sight of that pink tongue was almost enough to be his undoing, and he felt a corresponding twitch in his jeans as he imagined the taste of her. Undoubtedly as heady as her scent, Cutter knew he’d lose himself in her if he ever allowed himself such a taste.

One kiss would never be enough.

Instead of closing the distance between them as every instinct cried out for him to do, he deliberately leaned back, straightening his spine. Millie nodded slowly, withdrawing to pick up the surgical scissors again.

“I’m thinking these can come out now, unless you like them as sort of a fashion statement,” she grinned.

“I’ll pass,” he smirked back, relieved when the little minx released him from her spell and they returned to familiar ground again.

“Hold still…” she instructed him as though he was a little boy, snipping through the little pink stitches, using a pair of tweezers to pluck the threads free as she went along. “Do you always heal this fast?”

“I told you I’d be fine.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, so sue me for worrying about you.”

“You were worried about me?” The thought stroked his ego, bringing a lopsided grin to his face before he remembered he was supposed to be discouraging that.

“Isn’t that what I’ve been saying this whole time? Why else would I haul my cookies all the way out here to brave your temper?” she pointed out.

“You brought cookies?” Cutter asked with interest, she had mentioned something of a gift after all.

“No, not cookies, but you’re on the right track.”

“What do you have in there?” Cutter reached for the pack but she smacked his hand away while she continued the last few threads.

“Hold your horses…” she muttered. “There, all done.” Millie sat back when she was finished. “I’m afraid you’re gonna have an interesting scar there.”