Dark Wolf Unbound (Heart of the Shifter #2)(4)

They were each other's greatest nightmare … and yet, at the same time, her  soul called out to him. Her body craved his touch. Her heart needed  resolution with him. And, on a purely mercenary level, she needed his  help. How could she turn down her one chance to save her nephew from the  monster who'd had both his father and mother murdered?

She couldn't.



* * *



Jace's fingers had just closed around the cold door handle of his SUV  when he heard the front door open. He froze, not turning around, every  sense attuned behind him.

"Jace! Wait!"

The command rang out in the rain, wrapping around him like a compulsion.  Her voice was beautiful, feminine, and strong, plunging right past his  walls deep into his gut. He knew it belonged to the woman he'd glimpsed  behind the curtain, whose face he'd barely been able to discern through  the rain-splattered glass and heavy lace drapery. He'd been able to make  out the slant of her nose, the angle of her jaw, and the curve of her  neck. Her hands, though, he knew. He'd felt her palms, pressed up  against the glass against his. Her hands had been small and delicate,  but pulsing with an inner strength that had drawn him.

And now, he could hear her footsteps splashing through the mud as she ran toward him.

He turned instinctively, years of habit as an alpha propelling him to  face her so she couldn't approach from behind. His gut turned over when  he saw her running toward him. She was wearing jeans and a gray  sweatshirt, her bare feet sinking into the mud up to her ankles as she  ran. Her hips were curved, her legs long and decadent, her feet slim and  vulnerable in the mud. Her hair was light brown, tumbling around her  shoulders, already getting wet in the rain. She had all the curves of a  woman, but she was small and delicate, calling out his protective  instincts. His body responded instantly, shockingly, to her femininity  and her vulnerability, need pulsing through him to claim her right then.

Anticipation built inside him as she neared, but it was when she was  close enough to see her eyes that he became utterly riveted. They were  deep green, almost the color of an emerald, so starkly beautiful and  bright it felt surreal in the wet, gray woods they were standing in. She  slipped as she neared him, and he instinctively leapt forward and  caught her before she could fall, his fingers closing around her upper  arms.

She grabbed his forearms for balance, staring at him in surprise. For a  split second, the world seemed to vanish, and all that remained was her,  them, this moment. The sensation of having his fingers wrapped around  her arms was shocking in its intensity. Every nerve in his body was  taut, suspended in anticipation of her next move, her next words, her  next request. She was surreal temptation, calling to his wolf on a level  no female had ever summoned before. He wanted her. He wanted to drag  her into his arms, kiss her, claim her, and make her his.

Her eyes widened, and she caught her breath.

He could hear her pulse thundering, as if she'd been thrust into the  same frenzy of attraction that had caught him. His fingers tightened as  hunger roared through him, obliterating everything but her. She didn't  pull away, and his gaze went to her mouth. Her lips were pale pink,  bare, and tempting. The need to kiss her howled through him, and for a  split second, he could think of nothing else to do but claim her mouth  with his-

Her cheeks turned red, and she pulled back.

He released her instantly, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep  from reaching for her. Shit. What had that been about? He wasn't here to  seduce. He was here to find a way to abate the damage from what he'd  done.

But she didn't give him the chance to retreat. She stuck out her hand as  if to shake his. "My name is Abby Collins. Melissa was my sister."                       
       
           



       

Melissa's sister? She was the sister of the woman he'd murdered? His  stomach turned, and he took her hand. Shaking it felt stupid and  superficial, so he pressed her cold hand between both of his, trying to  will warmth into it. "I'm so fucking sorry," he said. It felt easier to  say it this time, as if the words were finally becoming a part of him.

"I know." She searched his face, as if she were looking for secrets he never shared with anyone. "I need your help."

"My help? Of course." He nodded immediately, still not releasing her  hand. Why wasn't she looking at him in fear? Why wasn't she shuddering  at the touch of his flesh? He knew he should let go of her hand, but it  felt so fucking incredible to be holding it. It was easier to breathe  when he was touching her, as if she was pouring life back into him  simply through her touch "What can I do?"

Her gaze flicked to Drake and Cash, who were still standing right beside him. "Can we talk alone for a moment?"

"No." He didn't hesitate. "They're here for your safety. We talk here."

"I-" She grimaced. "Please?"

For a split second, he almost considered it. He owed her so much. If she  wanted privacy, then she deserved it. But at the same time, he couldn't  put her at risk. "No."

She studied his face. "You're afraid the song will make you shift,  aren't you? Like it did when you killed my sister. You still hear it in  your head, don't you?"

He stared at her, so shocked by her insight that he didn't have an answer. How did she know?

"Do you hear it now?" she asked.

He realized suddenly that he didn't. His subconscious was quiet, his  entire being focused completely on her. The silver had worked to  decrease the song's grip on his mind, but Abby had wiped it away  completely. "No."

She smiled, a breathtakingly warm smile that made him want to drop to  his knees and ask her to smile forever, just for him, just to make him  realize that the world wasn't always shrouded in darkness. "Then we're  good." She tugged at his hand, and began to back up. "Come on," she  said, her voice taut with urgency. "Please?"

He wanted to go with her. He wanted to give her whatever she asked for,  not just because he owed her for taking away her sister, but because she  made him feel like he could breathe for the first time in a very long  time. It was selfish, but he couldn't help it. He was simply so  desperate to feel human again, and somehow, she gave him hope that it  was possible.

"Go," Cash said. "I'll retrieve the gun. I can take you out from a  distance, as long as you're within shooting range." As he spoke, Drake  turned away and jogged toward the woods where they'd tossed the guns.  Within a moment, he'd found one of them, and he held it up, making a  silent promise to use it.

Jace took a deep breath, but he knew that he owed Abby so much for  stealing her sister. He could give her privacy, if that was what she  wanted. He trusted Drake and Cash with the guns. They were great  marksmen. He hoped that she was going to berate him, to unleash her  anguish and fury out on him. "Okay."

Fear gnawing at him that he would turn on her, he allowed her to lead  the way to the side of the house, her feet sinking into the mud. "You  need shoes," he said.

What an inane comment. Shoes? What the fuck was he obsessing about shoes  for? He was there to apologize for murdering her sister for hell's  sake. He had no right to feel protective of her, to want to protect her  feet from the cold mud.

"I prefer barefoot," she said. She pulled him next to the house and  turned to face him. Tension radiated off her, and then he saw fear in  her eyes, the fear he'd been expecting from the outset. The fear was  appropriate, but it also bit deep, eating away at him.

He gritted his jaw, disgusted that he'd become something that people  feared. He'd been so arrogant his whole life, thinking he controlled the  wolf that paced inside him, and it had all been a delusion. Scowling,  he checked to make sure that Cash and Drake still had a clear shot at  him. They did, and he was satisfied to see that they were both watching  him carefully, the guns held loosely in their right hands.

Reassured that he would be dead before he could hurt her, he turned his  attention to Abby again. "How can I help you?" he asked again. He knew  there was nothing he could do that would change what had happened, but  he'd cut out his own heart and hand it to her if she asked, if it would  help her.

She bit her lower lip for a second, as if she had to take a moment to hold back her emotions. "My sister had a son."

"Fuck." He turned away and ran his hand through his hair. It just kept getting worse. Melissa had a kid. "What about his dad?"                       
       
           



       

She flinched. "He's dead. He wasn't a good man. It was just the two of them."