Page 32 of The Werewolf Cowboy
“I’ll tell you later. Not here. Come on.” Two warm hands cupped her cheeks, and the light from his hands felt as comforting as a down blanket. “We’re almost there, I promise.”
He was an anchor in a stormy sea. Katy laced her hands around his wrists. “Don’t leave me.”
She kissed him, and he flinched in surprise. His mouth was warm, firm and felt like heaven in this little part of hell. Needing more, she leaned against him, kissing him harder, and heard him sigh, felt him respond as his heart rate increased. Sensing the restraint within him, she tried to deepen the kiss.
He broke it off gently. “Not now, Katy.” Voice hoarse in the darkness, he quivered beneath her touch, as if he didn’t dare touch her further. As if he could lose control.
That realization pushed aside the darkness, the nasty voices and the fear. Grayson would not hurt her. He was different, something “other,” but he was not going to hurt her.
He took her hand and led her forward.
And then there was a pinprick of light ahead, wonderful, beautiful light. He quickened his pace and then they were outside the cavern.
Moonlight.
The moon was nearly as bright as the sun, filling the air with lovely silver light. She found herself in a verdant forest, with a crystal clear stream rippling through a field ripe with lavender wildflowers. A waterfall sparkled with blue, red, and green colors as it spilled down a hillside.
This forest wasn’t dark and sinister, but welcoming. Her wolf howled with delight.
Tiny fairies the size of moths fluttered around the water, skirting the gurgling stream. Iridescent blue, green, citrine, and magenta lights glowed around them like lamplight.
Owls hooted in the distance and insects hummed. The air was thick with the delicious smells of freshness, evergreen and…her nose twitched.
Fresh game. It smelled like her favorite—rabbit. Goodness, she hadn’t realized how hungry she was.
Grayson put his hands on her shoulders. She could feel the tension gone from him, but only slightly. “Welcome to Wolf Haven. It’s a Lupine sanctuary in the Dark Kingdom, where we can live in relative safety.”
“Why relative?”
He squeezed her shoulders lightly. “We are safe from Others, especially Dark Fae, but we still must live with each other. It isn’t an easy thing, Katy. Not like your Mitchell pack. Lupines here are more…fierce and savage.”
Grayson dropped his hands, and as she turned, his expression became shuttered. But he fisted his hands. “Especially when it comes time to mate.”
She wondered what he meant by that comment. Ever since the battle with the Night Riders, Grayson seemed wound taut as a coil, and it wasn’t from the threat of the Fae or centaurs.
But something different, and much more primitive.
He adjusted the pack on his shoulders. “Come on.”
They set out for a pathway through the forest. The path cut through a thick swath of trees and brush, bordering the stream. The fairies flew alongside them, zipping playfully before her, fanning the air with their wings.
“Are the fairies safe or do they have teeth and fangs?”
“They’re safe. One reason they live here. Those are evergreen fairies. They lack most of the defenses of Others in the Dark Kingdom, so they live amongst the Lupines in a symbiotic relationship. The fairies keep the water supply fresh, tend to the trees and plants, and in return, we provide protection,” he told her.
After walking through the thick forest for a good mile, she felt ready to collapse from the nerve-wracking fight and her depleted energy.
They came upon a small glen surrounded by evergreen and oak trees. In the midst was a wooden cottage. Straight out of a fairy tale, it had sparkling clear windows and a thick oak door. On the wraparound front porch sat two white rocking chairs. A rug by the door readWelcome.
Ancient runes were carved into the doorpost. Weariness forgotten, she bounded up the steps, curious to read the runes. But the marks were faded and nearly undecipherable.
She turned to Grayson, who trudged up the steps behind her. “Is this your home? Your real home?”
His real home, where he had been born.
Grayson nodded. “My refuge in the woods. My family built it years ago. No one has lived here for a long time, but someone I know returns to keep it clean.” He looked around, as if expecting visitors. “I marked it with my scent to protect my turf.”
Something like a dim memory pricked in her mind. “Because if you did not, intruders would take it over, claim it for themselves. You must scent mark every six months to warn them off.”
