Gentry (Wolves of Winter's Edge Book 1)(18)

           



       

"What reason?"

"To protect me!" He gestured to her neck and looked sick in the blue moonlight. "To protect you."

Blaire sat up and covered her chest. It was cold in here now that Gentry  had stolen his warmth away. And if she was honest, she felt a whole lot  more vulnerable right now. She shouldn't because she'd wanted this.  She'd craved intimacy with him, and they'd connected on a level she'd  never experienced. But she didn't understand what was happening with  Gentry, and she didn't get the dynamics at play. "Is this you letting me  go early?" she murmured.

"No." He gritted his teeth so hard a muscle in his jaw jumped. He opened  his mouth to say more, but froze. All but his eyes, which flicked to  the window behind her.

The expression on his face said there was something there, watching through the cracked window.

"What is it?" she asked, too terrified to turn around.

"Get dressed," Gentry said low.

"Oh, my gosh," she huffed out as she bolted for the wall where her  clothes lay in a pile. She wasn't even into her sweater when a long, low  howl lifted into the air.

Gentry wasn't sitting anymore, but was instead leaned against the window  sill on locked arms, glaring outside. He shoved off, shaking his head,  and it was then that she could hear it. There was a rattling in his  throat, but it was different than before. It was scary, and the moon was  playing tricks on his eye color again. Something was happening with  Gentry that she didn't understand.

He stalked to the door as another howl lifted on the air to join the first. "Stay here. Lock the door."

"You're going to go out there with those wolves? That's a terrible idea! We should call the police!"

"No police. That'll make this so much worse. I'll be back. Don't let  anyone in. No one but me." His gaze lingered on her a moment more, and  then he murmured, "Please trust me." Gentry disappeared into the night,  closing the door firmly behind him.

Trust me.

He'd just given her a half-answer on everything she'd asked, and he wanted her to trust him?

He'd just walked out into the snowy night … naked! With the wolves. Not just one anymore, but two!

With shaking hands, she dressed, shoved her feet into her snow boots, didn't bother lacing them up, then bolted for the phone.

She dialed 911, but hesitated to connect the call. She just stood there,  staring at the glowing screen of her cell phone. Why did this feel like  jumping off a cliff and into a river she didn't know the depths of? She  could sink down and bob back up for air or slam into the shallow, rocky  bottom. Doing this after he'd asked her not to felt like a betrayal,  but she wanted him to be okay.

"Shoot," she said on a terrified breath. Blaire bolted for the window,  but Gentry was gone, and the howling came to a sudden stop. The song  just disappeared like it had never been there at all.

Wolves, this place trashed, the mysteries that surrounded Gentry's  father, Gentry's eyes, baffling answers, and someone like you, someone  like you, someone like you.

Her head spun as she searched the night woods outside desperately for  any sign of the man she was getting closer to and farther away from all  at once.

Please trust me. His voice seemed to plead on the crisp wind.

Blaire deleted the emergency number and set her phone on the window  sill. Calling the police would push Gentry away, and then she would  never get answers. She would always wonder what if? What if she'd  listened, what if she'd trusted him, what if she'd stayed in this and  backed his play?

He hadn't seemed scared, only angry, and he'd gone out into the night  with an air of confidence. Was he crazy? Nah. Some bone-deep instinct  told her that wasn't it.

Instead, Gentry was dealing with demons she couldn't see yet.

But she wanted to.





Chapter Eleven




Asher's howl lifted again, calling Gentry's wolf from him. He grunted in  pain as he pitched forward onto his hands and knees in the snow. What  was happening to him?

Another thirty seconds in Winter's Edge, and he would've Changed right  in front of Blaire. Fucking Asher was forcing a Change, but he shouldn't  be able to.

Gentry's bones snapped, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. At  least he was far enough into the woods that the night shadows hid him  from Blaire's view. God, he didn't want to do this.

Roman's howl lifted into the air, but his tone drifted right over  Gentry's skin. The second Asher howled again, though, Gentry cried out  as the wolf ripped from his body.

Wolf came out pissed and charging the woods. Asher and Roman were  calling for war way too close to his mate. They had almost exposed him  to her, and way too soon. Wolf wanted Blaire, but he had to be a patient  hunter, or she would run. She would get scared and wouldn't understand  she belonged to Wolf. He would never hurt her. Only protect her. Even  from his own brothers.                       
       
           



       

He was going to bleed Asher for pulling that shit, and Roman for  helping. Logic tried to keep quiet with his dislike for his brothers,  but Wolf didn't have those hang-ups. He hated them, therefore he would  hurt them.

He sprinted through the fresh snow. He could smell them, scents that  would never leave him. He'd grown up with them, would know them  anywhere. Did they even remember him? Had they even cared when they  left? Had they even thought about how destroyed he'd been when they'd  turned their disdain on him and cut him off? Cut him out? Fuck them  both.

Asher came charging out of the shadows, a beast of a wolf, thick-furred  and black as tar. He was bigger than Gentry remembered, but it had been a  long-ass time since he'd seen his brothers. Gentry was bigger now, too,  and trained for this kind of brawl.

Neither of them slowed. They just clashed like two storms. Asher was a  ripper now, a reaper, a titan fueled by bad blood, but Gentry had fury  on his side. The fear in Blaire's eyes flashed through his mind as he  sank his teeth into Asher's shoulder and jerked his powerful neck. When  warmth sprayed across his face, he grew drunk with satisfaction.  Bloodlust did that. Hatred did that.

Pain blasted through his backend when Roman joined the battle. The baby  of the family wasn't a baby anymore. He wasn't some lanky pup. He was a  monster, the same size as Gentry with gold eyes. His wolf was like the  werewolves of legend. Blood-splattered teeth, hate in his glowing eyes,  muzzle snarled up, the promise of death written all over his face. Good.  Wolf wouldn't have to mourn when he killed him.

He spun and lunged at Roman's front paw, caught it in a blur, and  snapped the bone with a hard bite. The yelp of pain echoed through the  clearing, and with the sound came a tornado. That's all Wolf could think  to describe it. The snow around them shot straight up into the sky,  creating a wall of white, and thick, black power pulsed against Wolf's  skin. It made him sick to his stomach.

Beside him, Asher and Roman froze, their attention on the dark shadow  that was walking slowly through the wall of snow, hands out.

It was the woman from the store, the dark-haired one in the old truck.  The familiar one. With every step of her approach, the sick feeling in  Gentry's gut grew until his legs buckled under him. His body was on  fire, and it wasn't just him. Asher and Roman were in the snow,  writhing.

"Change back!" the woman screamed, her voice crackling with the power of the wind, but her lips hadn't moved.

Agony ripped through Gentry, and he closed his eyes against the black  magic forcing his Change into his human skin. Back to Logic.

Teeth bared, Asher was dragging his breaking body toward her by his front paws.

"Uh uuuh," she sang softly, shaking her head as she took a step back.

Asher, Asher, Asher. Change back. The whispered words hadn't come from her lips, but were bouncing around in Gentry's head.

The last of the Change blasted through Gentry's body, and he winced away  from the view of Asher breaking slowly, bones snapping one at a time  like dry twigs, and blood pooling in the snow beneath his body.

"Give in," Roman yelled, completely human. "Asher!"

Asher imploded into his human self, and the snow wall fell to the ground around them.

Every cell in Gentry's body was on fire, and he retched in the snow. He  clenched his fists before he slammed them to the ground and tried to  breathe through the agony. "Who are you?" Gentry choked out.

"Can't you feel it?" Roman asked from beside him. He was on his hands  and knees, arm wrapped around his stomach, body trembling, eyes bright  gold like his wolf wasn't sleeping yet. He wore a full beard now and  looked like a fucking bodybuilder. Roman was almost unrecognizable  compared to the boy Gentry had known. "She's a witch."

"You're welcome," the woman barked out, eyes flashing with anger.

"For what?" Asher growled out.