Sorcha's Wolf (14 page)

Chapter Sixteen

Alex helped Sorcha arrange her gown, watching her closely. She was oddly silent. Had he disappointed her last night, coming so quickly? He’d not even entered her lush body. He’d nearly not lasted long enough to taste her orgasm on his tongue. He wanted to taste her again, feel the sweetness spilling from her while she called his name. She’d come three times, but he’d not given her the deep, intense orgasm only a man’s hard cock could give a woman. What if she thought him a poor lover?

He stopped her halfway along the path and turned her gently—not tugging or forcing her—merely turning her. She frowned and some emotion passed over her face, something he couldn’t understand. Was it regret?

“Are you tired?” He wasn’t a coward, but he’d start there, test her mood, then decide whether to move on to any dangerous territory.

“A bit, but I won’t slow us down.”

Had he been too hard on her last eve? He’d spilled his seed all over her lovely stomach and come even harder when he’d realised some had marked her rounded breasts. He’d probably squeezed her too tightly. Damn it, he’d taken too much, hadn’t he?
No shit, the first time she lets you kiss her and you pushed her for more.

He brushed a curl off her cheek. “We can wait until you are rested.”

“No, I’m fine, just tired. I can walk. Besides, time moves differently here and we should hurry if we are to make the next meeting, right?”

“The next meeting is a trap, remember? And that isn’t for two days. He’ll wait if we are not there.” He frowned when she did, but then he asked, “What do you mean, time moves differently?”

She shrugged and motioned with her hand to the low building that held their rooms. “Here, time moves slower at times, faster at others. I thought you knew that, I would have told you sooner, if I’d thought you didn’t.”

Did she sound apologetic? For what? His lack of knowledge?

“We should leave.”

Her sudden concern for his scheming made him nervous, but he agreed with her. They should leave, yet he found himself reluctant to do so. “Our time here could have already used two days is what you’re telling me.”

“Yes, so we should hurry.”

Something made him stop her when she turned to the low, grey stone structure, clearly ready to go with him.

“If it’s been past our time, we will figure something out.” He wanted to add, ‘together’, but couldn’t seem to get the words out. Instead, he walked ahead of her and opened the chamber door for her. “If you’re tired, we will stay here longer.”

Her eyes widened slightly, but she shook her head. “It’s nothing, really, Alex. But thank you, for asking.” She lifted a hand and brushed her hair off her eyes, her look softening, but still he thought he saw fear settle in her green eyes before she turned slightly away.

Still not believing her, he left to gather his things—what few there were—instead of confronting her on whatever seemed to be wrong. Frustrated, he remembered he’d left their bag behind. No doubt, it was lost now. The witch’s fire probably had destroyed it. Hell, he also had no clue what to say to her. He had no experience with women, or with magic. He rubbed a hand over his chest, feeling oddly happy for some reason, then understood that while he might not have much experience with either, he sure as hell would soon enough. He wasn’t letting Sorcha go. He’d protect her from Zith.

He’d got them this far—admittedly, with Sorcha’s tricks—but he’d simply have to be more alert to the dangers facing them. He’d go back to the battlefield and discover if their bag was ashes or not. Then he’d learn what was wrong with Sorcha. Perhaps she was simply shy with him now. The thought intrigued him as he dressed.

The Fay had cleaned and folded his clothing neatly on the huge canopy bed he’d woken in hours before. Seeing it, he realised that last night he could have made love to Sorcha here, under the silk and velvet, treating her as he should have rather than taking her on the forest floor. Could that be why she had been so silent?

“Ready?”

He turned, startled she’d been able to come up on him without his knowledge. Seeing her again sent a shot of lust right through his body. She’d already gathered her clothing and held the dark mirror clearly outlined by a piece of black velvet.

“You didn’t change.”

She halted half in the doorway and raised her delicate eyebrows, most likely at his sharp tone. A slow pink blush coloured her cheeks as he watched, fascinated by the reaction until she ducked her head, hiding her face behind her long hair. Could it be she was shy with him?

“I like the Fay clothing,” she finally murmured.

He did as well—on her. The grey-blue silk brought out the green of her eyes, making them appear a darker, more intense colour than usual. Unless he pissed her off, he thought. Then they sparkled like rare emeralds.

“Aye, I will wear mine as well.” He strode to her side and took her bundle of garments. He’d worried over what to buy for her back before he’d kidnapped her. Now, seeing her in the clothing he’d purchased filled his chest with some kind of satisfaction he’d never experienced before. Taking her elbow, he steered her out of the chamber and up the path. No Fay were about, but he guessed they’d given them lodging far enough that no one would disturb them. Or far enough away, they wouldn’t have to deal with
him
. Either way, he owed the Fay a debt for allowing them safe passage.

“We will need to find the pack, then make camp, eh? For the—”

“Sorcha! Oh goddess, look at you!”

A black-haired, blue-eyed woman rushed along the path and he frowned sensing another Lykae. Dressed in a brown and green tunic and leather knee high boots, with a long bow criss-crossed over her chest, she breathed heavily as if she’d run a long distance to reach them. Her blue eyes shown against the healthy glow of her face and the traditional Fay weave to her hair revealed rounded, not pointed ears. Smiling she reached them and stopped a foot away, as if waiting on them to know her before coming closer.

“Bethany?” Sorcha asked.

Alex glanced at Sorcha’s surprised face, then at the woman and recognition set in. This was Samantha and Susanna’s wee sister. He’d not heard she’d come to the Fay realm. By the look of her, she’d been here among the woodland Fay, for some time.

“But you’re”—Sorcha paused, and hugged Bethany then held her at arm’s length—“you’re older.”

“Time, it flows differently here,” Bethany said, but Alex stiffened. Something in her tone, sadness—no sorrow—had his hackles rising. Bethany had always been a quiet, thoughtful child, seeing her with the bow and now noticing a knife at her side as well, made him wonder if that quiet child hadn’t grown into her wolf more fully.

She turned to him and frowned, tilting her head to the side so like a wolf, he grinned.

“Alex? Right?”

“Aye. How long has it been, then?” For them it had only been a few years. He’d watched this woman as a wee child, crawling around with Alrick, strategising the destruction of their enemies in the king’s study using small metal figures. Now she stood straight and tall, her Lykae blazing in her like a beacon. Her wolf was strong, strong enough that her otherness faded from his senses no matter how she dressed.

She squinted at him, as if he’d surprised her. “Your time, only a few years—Christmas I believe.” She fluttered her fingers at the past as if she didn’t know for sure. “But for me, here, a bit longer. I hear you were injured bringing home one of the children lost to the black arts.”

She’d been sixteen the last he’d seen her, he remembered suddenly. She’d come to the compound with Derrick and Samantha. He’d seen her talking to someone in the distance, but before he had been able to discover who she’d met with, the man had been gone. He’d not seen her but for a second later that day and had worried enough to ask Derrick if she fared well.

“Aye, it was nothing,” he assured her.

 
“I heard it was much more than that. We felt the forest shuddering even in this realm at the fight,” she replied with a grin.

“Bethany—”

Bethany laughed softly, interrupting Sorcha and squeezed her hand. “I go by Blood Moon, now, Sorcha, but most people simply call me Moon.”

Sorcha blinked then shifted her green gaze to him, more worry on her face than he’d seen since he’d asked her to come with him. By her expression, he guessed she thought something was off with Bethany. He examined Samantha’s sister again, but other than her wolf pacing close, as if protective, he sensed nothing amiss. She was whole, healthy and he felt a sense of pride at how strong she’d become. As a Lykae, he could often sense others of his kind, without tapping into his wolf’s powers. With Bethany, nothing about her worried him, other than the way her wolf guarded her like a mother bear would her cub. Could that be why she was here and not home with her sisters?

“How long, then?” he asked, not sounding as gentle as he could have been, he supposed because he spotted Sorcha rolling her eyes.

Bethany—Moon, he corrected himself silently—gave him a half grin and a shrug reminding him of Markee. “A few centuries perhaps.”

“What! A few centuries?” Sorcha whispered. She touched Moon’s long hair. “Goddess, you’re all grown up, too, aren’t you?”

Moon nodded, smiling fondly at Sorcha’s concern.

“You’ve been well? I mean…” Sorcha trailed off looking more upset. “I suppose I didn’t even miss you, did I? One of my own coven, and I had no idea…”

“Sorcha!” Moon gripped Sorcha’s hand. “I’m sure you have been busy. I know you have been. Besides, I am fine. I am more Lykae and Fay than I am a Jade witch, Sorcha.”

“I will always consider you one,” Sorcha responded softly.

Moon hugged Sorcha close for a long moment. “Thank you, Sorcha.”

“You have grown into your powers, too,” Sorcha said when they separated.

“My powers come from my Fay heritage. I study with Gregory a great deal. My spells, I will admit, come from Samantha’s lessons, but the weave of my magic is from my Fay ancestors. It’s the same for Sammie and Beauty, I believe.”

“Yes, the thread from my family to yours is thin, but it’s a link I value—” She paused and shook her head. “Moon, I see you have embraced your place in life. The Sisters of the Moon have great things ahead of them. I can sense you have already begun that. Here”—she gestured to the Fay realm.

Moon grinned at that, reminding him even more of the pack. He snorted and Sorcha finally laughed.

“Of course, I hit hard, just as Sammie and Susanna do.”

Alex laughed at that and Sorcha grinned.

“You are well, though? Here among the Fay?” he asked.

“I am very well. I study with Gregory and the high woodland elves. Evil has reached this realm as well, or perhaps, as I’ve learnt, it has always been here. While it’s not the evil of the Death Stalkers, it must be brought into balance with good.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, but nodded. She was a warrior, much like her sisters. But here, alone among those that didn’t understand her needs, she had isolated herself in ways a member of the pack rarely did—other than by force.

“When will you come home?” he asked.

She frowned. “There will be a time when I return, but not for a while longer. But what of you, Alex? And you, Sorcha? Will you truly go after this warlock? Unprotected?”

“She will be protected,” Alex immediately said.

Moon narrowed her blue eyes at him and within them her wolf flickered, the instinct strong in her delicate features. “I certainly hope you can, Alex. There will be much sorrow if Sorcha is lost to us.”

Lost? Sorcha?
He snorted. “There is no possibility of that,” he said, but even as he said it, doubt rose in his chest. A hollow feeling surfaced and he narrowed his eyes at Sorcha’s suddenly too blank face. “Is there?”

Sorcha looked away, but he’d seen the unease. “No, of course not. We should go.”

His attention shifted between the two women. Something had simmered beneath Sorcha’s words, he thought. Moon seemed to catch it as well for her eyes narrowed.

“Should I keep this a secret, your being here?” Sorcha continued after a charged silence.

Alex stiffened, unsure what she meant, but Moon tilted her head and smiled, the cautious expression from seconds before gone. “I am not hiding, Sorcha.”

Sorcha nodded, looking oddly tired. Maybe she was tired. He’d kept her out of doors all night. He’d slept like a log for the first time in weeks, but had she?

Moon hugged her tightly and Sorcha whispered something to her, then let her go with a kiss to her cheek. Moon saluted them saucily, walking off with one more wave before she disappeared from sight.

Sorcha had walked on ahead of him, but he pulled her back to examine her face. “What is wrong?”

She looked away for a second, then met his eyes again. “I just worry over her being here, like this, that’s all. It’s probably nothing,” she finally said.

“Aye, she is well, her wolf is strong.”

She smiled at that and tilted her head. “How do you know that?”

Shrugging past a sudden need to cough at her admiring look, he said, “I’ve always been able to sense things such as that.” When she looked as if she’d say more, he motioned to the arch ahead of them. “Is this the way out of here?”