in her home and in her life.
Curling into a tight ball of misery, Laurel Rose finally let loose her tears. Burying
her face in her pillow, she sobbed, releasing all the emotions swamping her. She cried
for what she'd been through, for what she'd had and lost and for what she'd hoped for.
She cried until her eyes were swollen, her head was pounding and she was almost sick
with grief.
Gasping for breath, she rubbed her hands over her face. She had to stop. Dragging
herself into a sitting position, she hauled herself out of bed and down the hall. The
blanket she'd wrapped around herself dragged on the floor behind her as she stumbled
into the bathroom.
The light was harsh, almost blinding her and she switched it off almost as quickly
as she'd turned it on. It was then that she discovered that she didn't need it anyway.
Even in the dark, she could see everything. It was a strange sensation to be able to see
herself perfectly in the mirror even though the room was unlit. Her eyes were puffy and
red and she'd bitten her lip so hard that she'd drawn blood. Her hair was a tangled and
tousled mess and her skin was pale. But that wasn't what drew her attention. Her eyes
were fastened on her right cheek and she reached out and flicked on the light again. She
couldn't believe what she was seeing.
She blinked and squinted, waiting patiently until her eyes adjusted. Then she stared
at the woman in the mirror. The hand reflected in the glass was shaking as she reached
up to touch her face. Her scar was all but gone. Only the faintest trace of it remained. It
was all but invisible to the naked eye. But that was impossible. Wasn't it?
On a hunch, she dropped the blanket and stared down at her leg. Goose bumps
raised on the smooth, white skin as she poked at her thigh. The scars on her leg had all
but disappeared. It was almost disconcerting after living with them for all these years to
find them gone. It was as if a defining part of herself no longer existed.
Laurel Rose turned away from the mirror and stepped toward the bathtub. Her leg
moved easily, even though she'd automatically adjusted for its weakness. Taking a
deep breath, she slowly lifted her left leg, bending it at the knee so that all her weight
was on her right one. Instead of crumpling to the floor, she stood tall and strong.
Holding her breath, she bent and hopped forward. She landed firmly, her leg still
strong and steady.
"Oh my God," she whispered. By changing her, Stefan had given her back the full
use of her body. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but she flicked them away as the salt
burned her eyes. She'd cried enough for now.
Dragging herself into the tub, she turned on the shower and stepped beneath the
spray, allowing the hot water to wash away all the sweat and tears from her skin. When
she'd washed and scrubbed her hair and body, she rinsed and turned off the water.
Stepping out, she grabbed a towel and dried herself off. She wrapped the towel around
herself and grabbed another one, wrapping it around her wet hair.
Now that she was calmer, she began to think more rationally. The conversation
with Stefan replayed over and over in her head. Laurel Rose methodically began to
examine their relationship from the first moment they'd met. Stefan was a very
protective and possessive man. From the very beginning, he'd put her well-being ahead
of his own. It was as natural to him as breathing. He'd done it without thought, totally
by instinct.
Padding back to the bedroom, she toweled off her wet hair and pulled her comb
though the long, damp strands. She concentrated on trying to recall exactly what he'd
said to her that first night. She remembered him telling her that she was his destiny, the
only woman he would ever love. But it was her choice as to how they would live.
Choice. That was the key word. That's what Stefan had emphasized. He felt guilty
about taking the choice away from her. Her brows furrowed as she followed her train of
thought. She knew she was on the right track--she felt it right to her very bones.
Tossing her comb onto the top of her dresser, she yanked open a drawer and pulled out
a clean pair of underwear. She dropped the towel from around her body and stepped
into her panties, tugging them up over her thighs.
He was protecting her. It was if the words were emblazoned across her brain in
neon lights. He felt guilty about what he'd done and was now stepping away from her
so that all the choice was hers. The man was protecting her from himself.
"Of all the stupid, lamebrain things to do," she muttered as she hauled on a pair of
jeans and grabbed a blouse. She didn't even bother with a bra. Stefan was somewhere
out in the woods. She sensed he was still close. He would not leave her without being
certain she was all right.
He might think he was giving her a choice, but by leaving he was once again
making it for her. He automatically assumed that she wouldn't want to be with him. By
offering money and assistance, he was protecting himself emotionally.
Yanking on her sneakers, she was muttered under her breath. "How dare he just
leave?" She was going to find him, and after she'd finished yelling at him and shaking
some sense into him, she was going to love him so hard that he'd never have any
doubts about her feelings again.
Slumping back on the bed, she buried her face in her hands. She knew she was
right. She had to be. His every action showed his love for her even if he didn't say it.
"Stubborn man."
Laurel Rose's head jerked up as feminine laughter filled the air. "You must be
talking about Stefan. Dalakis men are all alike." A brown-haired, blue-eyed woman
walked toward her with a smile on her face. "I'm Delight Dalakis, Lucian's wife. You
must be Laurel Rose."
Laurel Rose stood and faced the other woman. "I know you. You were here last
night."
Delight nodded. "All of us were here in case Stefan needed us. Where is he?"
"I don't know." Bending down, Laurel Rose tied her sneakers.
"Trouble?" Delight moved closer. "I don't mean to pry, but if there is anything I can
do to help, all you have to do is ask."
Laurel Rose sensed the other woman's sincerity and it rocked her to the core. She
was so used to being alone, used to doing everything for herself, that asking for help
was a totally foreign concept to her.
"I don't know if anyone can help, but thank you. I'm going to go looking for
Stefan." She brushed past the other woman as she headed toward the door. Laurel Rose
stopped and looked back at Delight, uncertainty filling her. "But, if you're around when
I get back, maybe..." She took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Maybe we could
talk."
Delight smiled at her. "Of course, Laurel Rose. But a word of advice, if I may." She
paused and waited until Laurel Rose nodded. "Whatever has gone on between the two
of you, Stefan feels very deeply for you. More than you can even begin to imagine. And
whatever he's done, he's had your best interests at heart."
"I know," she whispered, her eyes going back to the crumpled bed covers. Stefan
always seemed to be taking care of her. Now it was her turn to take care of him. "I'll be
back."
Hurrying down the stairs, she rushed out the back door. She sensed other people in
the house, but she wasn't ready to deal with anyone but Stefan. Trusting her instincts,
she plunged into the forest to the right of the house and when the night swallowed her
in its dark embrace, she began to run.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Stefan sat on his haunches, panting for breath as he stared at the moon. He'd been
running since he'd left Laurel Rose, but his journey had taken him full circle and once
again he was in the woods just beyond her home. He could not leave her. She was the
very breath in his body, the light in his life, his reason for existing.
A slight noise off to his left alerted him that he was no longer alone. It was no more
than the brush of fabric against a leaf, but he didn't need any more than that. Keeping
himself still, he waited as she entered the small clearing. She stumbled to a stop when
she saw him sitting there.
Tipping back his head, he howled once again--a large, silver-gray wolf baying at
the moon. Part of him was hoping that she'd be frightened of the beast and leave him to
his solitude. But he knew better. She hadn't been afraid of the wolf before and she
certainly wasn't afraid now.
"Stefan?" She inched closer, one step at a time, as if not to frighten him away. "It is
you, isn't it? I meant to ask you about that before, but the right opportunity never
arose." She laughed. "I could hardly come right out and ask if you could shift into a
wolf, could I?"
Stefan was frozen as she continued to move nearer to him. Her hair was a black
curtain flowing down her back as it fluttered in the light breeze. Her eyes were dark
and mysterious in the moonlight. But it was the gentle smile on her face that was his
undoing. The inner beauty of her soul shone from within as she approached him.
His lips curled back and he growled at her, baring his sharp teeth. She hesitated,
but only for a heartbeat. "I know you won't hurt me."
Not hurt her! He'd barged into her life and changed it forever. The last thing he'd
ever wanted to do was hurt her, but there was no disguising what he'd done. Before she
touched him, he began to transform. His limbs lengthened and changed as the hair on
his body receded. Before her wide, stunned eyes, he transformed from beast to man. He