Sorcha's Wolf (20 page)

She cuffed him on his hard chest and squealed when he dipped and picked her up, carrying her into the cabin with another deep belly laugh.

“Can we? Now? I mean, what about these jackals? Your meeting? Zith? That witch outside has to be dealt with, Alex.”

He frowned at that and set her down with a heavy sigh. “Aye, we need to question her and learn where the next meet is, eh?”

“How long do we have?” she asked.

Alex glanced around the cabin, picked up his pack and unloaded several things before he unzipped a compartment inside and withdrew a coil of rope. “The full moon is when the pendant will work, Zith said. So that was our time to meet. The first check in was vital, this one simply another test. I think we should use the witch to let him know we mean business.”

She nodded and stroked her hand down his back. “The bullet? It went through you?”

He gave her a look as if her concern somehow shocked him. What did he think? She’d made love to him for hours but didn’t mind him hurt?
Silly man
.

When she didn’t say anything else, he glanced away and muttered. “Aye, it’s nearly healed now.”

She pressed a kiss to the wound and felt Alex stiffen. “I don’t like to see you harmed.”

With no warning, she found herself tumbled on his lap, facing him, her legs tucked between his thighs. His expression was so rift with tension, she simply stared at him. Sometimes she forgot how strong he was, how quick he could be.

“Aye? I dinna think I like you harmed either.” He examined her throat, but the blade had not cut her there. Next, he lifted her shirt and examined the scratch there on her hip. The man was insane. It was that or maybe, just maybe he cared as much about her as she did him. The thought made her want to grin all over again.

“It’s nothing.”

He ran a light finger along the line, but nodded. Seeming satisfied, he exhaled and pulled her closer. “I will beat this warlock, Sorcha.”

She swallowed at his earnest expression, unsure how to handle him being so open with her. She pressed her palms to his rough jaw and smiled softly. He wanted this so badly, how could she not support him? “I know you will, Alex.”

With a look of relief, he eased her against his chest and simply held her for a precious moment. “This witch, we will bind her. Is there a way to do so without giving her that potion?”

Sorcha jerked upright and kissed his surprised face. “Oh, I think that is a brilliant idea! Did you bring the potion?”

“Aye, but what of the antidote?”

“We might give her some of that as well, but first, let’s drag her butt in here. My only concern is, why, if he’s agreed to trade me for a pendant, why he is trying to take me from you?”

“Power. A man like Zith will try to take what he wants until he realises there is no alternative but to keep his bargain. Then, we will kill him, eh?”

She rubbed her lips over his whiskers. “Yes, then we will kill him.”

Nodding, he gave her a grin then kissed her lips. “Let’s get this over with. I need to feel you, safe and whole, beneath me, witch.”

“Mmm, you think so, wolf?”

He growled low and nipped at her shoulder making her laugh harder.

“Do you no’ still feel me, lass, making you mine?”

Yes, she still did. The thick, hot length of his cock had branded her, filling her so perfectly she knew she’d always feel him there—possessing her.

“Aye, you do, eh?” He didn’t let her respond. Instead, he kissed her so deeply her legs felt weak when he finally lifted his head.

Goddess, Alex, warm and all hers might kill her. But she might just like it.

Chapter Twenty

“Answer my question,” Alex demanded.

The young witch blinked rapidly and looked frantically around the cabin. Sorcha sat on the bed, merely watching them. He’d tied Sorcha up and had even gagged her to make her appear weak and still under his control. He’d also packed their belongings, ready to leave for the next safe house. As soon as they fooled the young witch.

“How did you know where I was?” he demanded.

The witch sniffed and shifted her eyes around the cabin again, looking for a means out of the mess she’d landed in, no doubt.

“There’s no escaping. I’ve given you the same potion as Sorcha.”

Her eyes grew round and as he watched, she fought the ropes tying her to the chair. He let her struggle for several minutes, then leaned in and jerked her by her short hair to face him. She resembled Hunter, a young witch he knew, but only in the youngness of her. The rest of her smelt of evil—not as deep as the mage’s stench—but this one had taken vows and done things to taint her essence.

Sweat beaded on her forehead, dripping down and leaving a smear through the dirt on her face. She might learn from this that her alliances were wrong, but something in her small, close together eyes made him guess she would die before she realised she walked the wrong path.

“Answer me,” he demanded, and tipped her chair back on two legs so she focused on him.

“Helga’s mirror. Her mirror led me to you,” she whispered.

Alex kept the surprise from his face and didn’t dare glance at Sorcha. “Helga’s mirror. What else can it do?”
Could the mage hear them? Did he know of their plan?

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice breaking. “Have you taken my powers away completely?”

“I mean, does it lead Zith to me, or you, or does it allow more? What does the mirror do?” He jerked the chair back down and grabbed her by the throat. Her eyes widened and she panted, clearly listening to him now.

“Do? It does nothing, but because the mirror was still whole, someone had it. I was to find that someone.”

He dropped his hand and stepped away from her. When he didn’t say more, she said, “He didn’t tell me more, I swear.”

“It’s a beacon,” he guessed.

She grimaced and shook her head. He grabbed her by the hair again, twisting her head back the way the jackals had Sorcha. She immediately cried out.

“I think so! Yes, yes, destroy it and that will end the connection it has to the other mirrors,” she sobbed.

“But if I don’t? Others can find me by hearing me?”

“Hearing you? No, not hearing you unless you’re a mage?”

He snorted and released her to pace the room. Sorcha’s gaze was steady and he sensed no questions for him. He stopped across from her, facing the fireplace. Startled, he examined that knowledge. He could sense her, he realised. She watched him even now, but all he felt from her was a steady calmness.
Had they bonded?
He couldn’t hear her thoughts. Some couples could, he knew. But they’d not exchanged the vows. He wanted to, every fibre in his body demanded it, but he wanted to exchange the bonding words with her somewhere special, so that ten hundred years from now, she’d remember their exchange.

“Will this kill me? What is it? How did you give it to me?” The witch sounded frantic and he turned, not answering her. She sobbed then sucked in the sound. “Tell me, what is this? Why can’t I reach my powers?”

“It’s a potion. The same one I gave Sorcha. He wanted her harmless, now you can tell him she is. The plan has changed. I want more than the pendant. I want him to use the pendant to open the door to the past. Then, and only then will I hand over the witch.”

Blue eyes wide, the young witch shook her head more scared now than before.
Why? Had Zith warned her not to fail? Or was the pendant useless?

“Aye, call him when you break free, tell him that I will meet him at Braeriach on the full moon. Not a day sooner, not a day later. Midnight on the full moon. Have him be there, alone and with the pendant, or the exchange is off and the witch will be back under her protections, her powers fully functional.”

The witch’s expression turned uneasy then abruptly hopeful. “So this potion is reversible?”

“Aye, if you survive without the antidote. He has the antidote. I suggest you call him quickly.” He turned his back on the witch and went to where Sorcha sat, pulling her to her feet and pushing her ahead of him out the cabin door. She went docilely with enough of a downward cast to fool everyone but him. He reached the doorway after her, and pulled the mirror from the outside compartment of his pack. He tossed it at the young witch’s feet.

“But, wait, wait, how will I get loose?”

He turned back and looked her over. “Work at it, I’m sure you will manage before the need for the antidote burns through you.”

With that, he headed off, loping to catch Sorcha and pull her into his arms for a kiss as soon as he’d got the gag off her.

She smiled and kissed him back. “This might work,” she breathed against his lips. He untied her hands, pressing for a deeper kiss as he worked at the ropes. As soon as he had her hands free, she hugged him tight, making his heart—and other parts of his anatomy—swell.

She’s right. This might work, it just might actually work.
Three days, three days with Sorcha, alone and all his, then he might gain the vengeance he’d sought all his life.
What better way to start my new life?

“Come, I want you, but not until we reach the next resting spot.”

“Oh?”

The way she’d said that made his body twitch, eager to hear her make other, lustier sounds.

“Aye, come, if you hurry I might show you a new way to tease me.”

He watched her smile grow with one of his own.

“So, another resting spot, huh?”

The melody of her voice soothed him. “I planned out several,” he told her, letting her go so she could walk beside him up the steep slope.

“In case he did these things?” she asked after a few minutes.

“Aye, one can never put all their eggs in one basket, eh, witch?”

She laughed merrily and slipped her hand in his.

Three days he had her to himself. Could life work out so easily, he worried, then tossed the concern aside and threaded their fingers together, satisfied to have her this close, this willing to touch him, and be his.

* * * *

Sorcha struggled up the steep incline and made it to the narrow ledge with help from Alex. A snowstorm had started up around midday and blew through the mountain pass, making their travel slow, but Alex had assured her they were close to the next stopping point.

“Here, put these on,” Alex yelled over the wind blowing through the pass and hitting them with icy darts.

She pulled the extra gloves on and squinted through the storm at him. The man was prepared, she’d give him that. He’d packed white fleece lined jackets, built to keep them warm, and by the colouring, hidden. He watched her above the white facemask looking more worried than she’d ever seen him.

“I’m fine. I was born in this valley,” she said, pulling him closer to speak into his ear. “Stop worrying over me.”

He squeezed her shoulder and motioned with his gloved hand to the left. She looked and saw beneath them the rough landscape already covered in a layer of white. The mountain passes above them were dangerous, full of unsteady snow and ice—easily as deadly as any trap Zith might lay for them. More so, she thought with an inner growl.

“We need to move. I want you out of this then we decide if we tackle Braeriach tomorrow, or hope the storm passes and the sun melts some of this snow, before we need to move again.”

“That’s your plan?” she yelled, hoping he’d hear her over the wind. He wanted to scale Braeriach on foot? “No trucks? Snowmobiles?”

Alex pulled his facemask down then hers and kissed her. “Don’t start doubting me now.”

Like this is the first time?
“This is the age of motorised transportation.”

He grinned. “And he’d expect that, eh? Come, you’ve rested enough.”

The brat. She hadn’t needed a break
—she broke off mid-rant and swatted his big manly chest. His grin turned to a laugh. He tugged her close and kissed her again, warming her to her toes then released her with a light possessive smack to her butt.

“Get moving. I’ll follow. Choose your steps carefully. We head for that pass,” he pointed to the side of the edge they would walk. “And down that first ravine. There is an ancient halfway house there. That’s where we head. Hour more, two tops.”

She nodded and pulled her facemask back up, already heading up the slope. The snow wasn’t deep yet and none had survived the summer to leave behind an ice shelf. In the past, she’d learnt to test her footing before walking on new snowfall in case the top layer hid the crystallised depths from the year before. If it had, it could break under footsteps creating holes in the top that could start an avalanche.

Here, with the first of the storm, they were relatively safe, but farther up the mountains may have more and that could have been there for longer—and be much less safe. She trusted Alex, but worried that the weather and the unpredictability of it there in the highlands would be one factor he hadn’t considered.

As far as Zith living here, it made sense to her. No one ventured so high up, not in the winter months. Local conservation laws protected most of these lands, and those that weren’t had their own type of defences—this storm being one of them.

Alex squeezed her shoulder again and she halted, turning to see him pointing ahead of them down the path. She turned and spotted a wolf, the grey and light browns of its fur clear against the backdrop of white.

“Markee.”

She shot Alex a surprised look, but he merely narrowed his eyes and nodded for her to keep moving.
Markee shifted into his wolf—not just the power of his wolf like Alex had for me—but to his wolf form?
Alrick had forbidden such things centuries before to safeguard the pack, but she’d always wondered at such a ruling. The wolf within the Lykae was part of who they were.

Markee loped towards them, unhindered by the steep, slippery slope. When he grew closer, his wolf form shimmered until she had to squint her eyes at the brightness. Seconds later, Markee stood there in his winter gear. She turned to Alex, but he moved forward, grasping Markee’s forearm and grinned.

“You were quicker than I thought.”

“Aye, well, I thought I’d best make sure no beasties ate your supplies.”

“And?”

“Nay, not too much anyway. I started a fire too.” He glanced behind him then back at them. “Can’t see the smoke. It’s a perfect location.” He eyed her cautiously, but when she dropped her mask and smiled at him, he heaved a huge sigh of relief. “Damn, I didn’t want to be involved in this,” he said.

She laughed and leaned into Alex. She bet he didn’t. “Well, too late now. What else has Alex planned for us?”

Alex circled an arm around her waist. “None for us, more for Zith. Let’s get out of this storm. Where is Agni?” Alex demanded.

There had been some bite in that question, but not as much as she’d expected. The question itself startled her.

“He’s on call,” Markee said.

She was about to ask what that meant, but Markee headed up the trail, leaving footsteps in the snow for her to follow.

“What does that mean?” she asked Alex.

“Later, once we’re inside,” Alex urged her on and she trudged after Markee.
What was Alex up to? Why not simply tell her?
She guessed it was dangerous and if Agni were involved now, more so. The demon had an odd sense of humour and his skill at retaliation was legendary. If he thought to harm Alex… She stumbled over a rock and Alex caught her arm, steadying her.

“Careful.”

The slope on her left was steep, cutting sharply down the mountain. A slip and she’d be in trouble. No matter how pretty the landscape looked, a fall wouldn’t be soft and cushioning. She nodded and followed Markee’s broad back, more than ready to get out of the cold and hear what Alex had planned. She had questions for him too, like what gate did he think a pendant would open? And why would he want to open a gate to the past?

Focused on what Alex had said, she didn’t sense the danger swirling up from the ground until it caught her foot and dragged her downward, right off the side of the mountain. Snow flew in her face, up the back of her jacket, instantly chilling her spine. She twisted to her stomach, trying to grab onto anything on her way down, a rock, a boulder—anything, but found nothing to stop her fall. Nothing held her either, at least not that she could see. But around her leg, she felt fire gripping her ankle, painfully.

Above her, she sensed Alex and she feared he might be under attack, too. Seconds flew by until with a painful jolt, she hit a tree with her elbow. She ignored the sharp pain and twisted, kicking with her other foot to dislodge the grip. She hit something with her foot and the hold loosened, then tightened. Another tree whizzed closer, but this time she was ready for it. When it grew close, she reached out, grabbed onto it and held on. Her leg felt like it might get ripped off by the sudden weight pulling her downwards, but she hugged the tree tighter and kicked and abruptly she was free.