Dark Wolf Rising Page 5

  "What do you want to know?" he asked.

  The truth. She needed it all. No matter how horrific the truth was, she needed to know who he was and what he'd become. She needed to have an answer for the burning ache inside her that he'd ignited with his kisses. "Are you one of them?" she asked. "Are you a wolf shifter? Have you...killed anyone?" The moment she asked the questions, she regretted it. If his answers were yes, what was she going to do? Run away screaming? Hug him and tell him it was okay? Because it wasn't. Killing someone was never okay. And Jace had made her terrified of werewolves. Could she really see him the same way if she knew he was a wolf, one who'd preyed upon the innocent? She needed to be able to trust him. He was her only chance at survival. Maybe it was better not to know. Maybe.

  He answered. "Yes."

  Her stomach dropped. She looked at him sharply, but he wasn't looking at her. His hands were tight around the steering wheel, his face dipping into shadows and darkness as the SUV sped along, the tires humming on the asphalt like they were being carried by a thousand bees. "Yes, to which question?"

  "Both. I'm a wolf shifter, and I've killed more than one person in my life."

  "Oh." She swallowed, a chill creeping down her spine. He was a werewolf. Visions of the horrible slaughter she'd witnessed filled her mind, of the snarling, the blood, and the screams of the woman. He'd killed someone. More than one person. Sweat broke out on her skin, and she wrapped her fingers around the door handle, her stomach churning as she fought to remember that this was Cash, her best friend, not some stranger. There had to be more information that would explain it for her. "How did you become a...werewolf?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know who my parents are. You know that." His voice was hard and cold, as it always was when he was hiding emotions he didn't want to face.

  Instinctively, she looked over at him. His lips were pressed tight together. Tiny lines creased the corners of his mouth, the lines that she knew appeared only when he was exercising intense control to crush his emotions. Her heart softened, and she touched his arm. He might be a werewolf, but he was also the boy who'd stood by her, never betraying her, never letting her down. She knew what his life had been like in foster care. She'd lived through that hell with him. She was the only one he'd shown his true self to, and she knew that he was doing it again. This was her Cash, not some random werewolf. Whatever he'd endured, whatever he'd done, she knew that he'd done everything he could to live with the honor that had been a part of him his whole life, despite everything he'd been through.

  He looked over at her, and she saw the pain in his eyes. Guilt. Self-hate. The same things she'd seen when she'd first met him. Her heart ached for him, and her fear dissolved. "I know," she said softly, running her hand down his arm. "I know you have no idea where you come from. We tried so hard to find out, but you'll never know, will you?"

  He shook his head. "There's no trail," he said quietly. "I kept trying for a long time. There will never be answers."

  "So, forge your own path, then, just like always." She'd met him when he was hiding from his foster parents, who used to get drunk and violent in the evenings. He'd been ten years old then, skinny and lost, concealed beneath the bleachers in the football stadium at the high school. She'd been hiding from an older boy who'd been harassing her, leering at her body in a way that she had no understanding of, except to know that it felt wrong. Cash had punched the boy on her behalf, and they'd been fast friends from then on. He'd slept in her room many times, climbing in through the window when her mom was asleep. He'd gorge himself on the food she'd snuck from the kitchen for him, using her room as a respite from the hell that was his life. Her mom hadn't approved of her friendship with a trouble-making foster kid, so they'd kept it a secret, a friendship just for them for a long time, until her mom finally began to understand the true nature of Cash's beautiful heart. Then her mom had joined his support team, offering what help she could, through food, shelter, and acceptance…though she'd never allowed him to spend the night in Bryn's bed. That had been their secret.

  How many times had they shared a bed over the years? Hundreds, probably, and she'd never felt safer than when he was sleeping beside her. They'd only kissed once, not because she hadn't wanted to kiss him again, but because he'd vanished two days later, never reappearing until tonight.

  She brushed her fingers through his ragged hair, reverting to the casual intimacy that had once been so natural between them. "When did you know you were a werewolf?"

  "The day I left town." He angled his head slightly, leaning into her touch as he drove, as if he needed the casual connection as much as she did. "Jack, my foster dad, started wailing on one of the new kids. I got pissed and went after him. He was ready for me, and he came after me with a fireplace poker. The fight got bad, and I was losing...and I turned into a fucking wolf." His jaw tightened. "I had no idea what had just happened, but suddenly I had him by the throat, a fraction of an inch from ripping his throat out. I nearly killed him."

  She stared at him, trying to imagine how shocking and surreal it must have been for Cash to turn into a wolf like that, to attack someone else. How could he even have understood what was happening to him? "That must have been terrifying."

  "Scared the mother-fucking-hell out of all of us. I ran, and he let me go. Never reported me as missing because he didn't want anyone to bring me back." He still wasn't looking at her, but she could feel the tension radiating off him. "I thought I was crazy," he said softly. "Shifters weren't real, right? But it kept happening again and again. I was ready to kill myself, and then I met Drake one night. He was a shifter too, another homeless kid scared shitless. When we realized there was someone else like us, we both realized we weren't insane. So, then we got serious about figuring out what the hell was going on. We found a pack."

  She could imagine the horror he'd felt. Shifters hadn't been a part of societal consciousness back then. At that time, they'd been mostly legend, the stuff of fantasy and imagination. Even now, they were on the fringe of society, with most people trying to pretend they didn't exist, and most shifters wanting to stay below the radar. No one would even have known that Melissa had been murdered by a shifter if Bryn hadn't seen the whole thing, including the shifting, and recognized the man who'd done it.

  Her testimony was going to change everything. After she testified, no one was going to be able to hide behind the delusions that shifters weren't real anymore. The shifters would be exposed, and society would have to deal with it, and Jace would have to face the repercussions of what he'd done.

  "The pack you're with now?" she asked. "Is that the one you and Drake hooked up with?

  He looked over at her, his face softening as he nodded. "It's a good group," he said. "Jace doesn't kill for sport. It's not how we do business."

  Jace Donovan was a prominent Internet mogul who had more money than most countries, and he had his eye on moving into politics, as everyone knew. Being exposed as a murderer and a shifter would destroy his career and his life, and it would bring everyone he was close to under suspicion. Fear of shifters ran high, and anyone associated with them in any way would be hunted down. "You're defending him?"

  "I'm not defending what he did, but I'm defending him as a human being. It's not his style." He sped up an on-ramp onto the highway and hit the gas.

  Her stomach turned. "Cash, what he did—"

  "I know what he did," he said sharply. "But it doesn't make sense."

  She suddenly became uncomfortably aware of the fact that it was Cash's pack whose exposure was at stake if she testified. It was his friend, Jace, who would go to prison. Cash had a personal stake in it. That was why he'd been there tonight. Because he cared about Jace. Not about her. It would affect Cash if she testified as well. Her heart suddenly sank. Was his plan to keep her from testifying? Was he really there to stop her, not rescue her? Were his kisses designed to win her loyalty so that she would decide on her own not to testify? She swallowed, choosing her next question c
arefully, afraid to ask too much when she was alone in a car with him, when she had no chance to escape him if he decided that things weren't going to end as he needed them to end. "Why didn't you kill me?"

  He shot her a look of disbelief. "What kind of question is that? I'd never kill you."

  His shock was so genuine that she let out a breath of relief. Okay, then, still the Cash she knew. He definitely wasn't going to kill her. But that left Jace and the pack's future undetermined. "Then what's going on?"

  "Damien, the interim pack leader, decided that the only way to keep Jace in the clear was if there were no witnesses. He set up a strike team to silently take you out." His jaw tightened. "It was supposed to be in and out, silent and clean, with you being the only casualty. When I found out it was you, I claimed the lead role. I don't know what shit Damien pulled while I was in there with you. Those police officers protecting you should not have been harmed."

  The genuine concern in his voice caught her attention. He believed in his pack, and the wolves had violated that trust. But as long as he still believed in them, her testimony against his friends would be unwelcome. She sighed, chewing her lower lip, trying to figure out what to do.

  "Don't look so worried." He looked over at her. "You're under my protection, Bryn. You always were, and you always will be."

  She let out a breath of relief, knowing he was speaking the truth. His loyalty to his pack was strong, but so was his loyalty to her. "Thanks."

  "No thanks necessary. I owe you."

  "You did this because you owe me?" She didn't like that. It felt too good to be with him, good on a personal level, like her soul had needed him to heal it. She didn't want to be an obligation. "That's why?"

  He said nothing, then he looked over at her. "No," he said softly. "I'm doing this because you are the only person in the forsaken hell of my life who matters to me. Jace saved my ass, and Drake has stood by me, but no one knows me like you do. No one gives me a safe haven, Bryn. No one, except you."

  Tears filled her eyes, and all of her misgivings about him and his motivation vanished. "I missed you," she said softly.

  "Missed you, too." He held out his hand, and she slipped hers into his. He closed his fingers around hers and squeezed, a solid, warm grip that made her feel safe for the first time in a long time.

  Chapter 6

  TWO HOURS LATER, Cash watched Bryn's face as she walked up to the old cabin that they'd hidden in so many times as kids. Her eyes were wide with wonder, her face soft with memories of a time before the world got uglier than it already had been.

  She traced her hand over the doorframe, where he'd carved their initials one night. "Still there."

  "Yep." He reached past her, unlocked the front door, and then disarmed the extensive security system. It might look like the same, ramshackle cabin it had once been, but he'd done a few upgrades. The walls and doors were now lined with steel. There was silver threading in the glass panes, and he'd installed a hidden floor panel that opened to two tunnels, heading in different directions. It was a lair of secrecy and survival now, the only safe place he had. Even Drake had never been there, though he knew it existed.

  Bryn stepped inside, and stopped, staring at the pile of clothes folded neatly on his bed. "You have my things."

  He'd forgotten about that. "Yeah. I got what I could. Didn't have much time."

  She looked over her shoulder at him. "You broke into my apartment and took my clothes before coming to the hotel?"

  "Yeah. It wasn't hard to find out where you lived. You need to work on that. You're too findable." He toed the door shut and reset the alarm, turning on the cameras and infrared sensors. A wall of computer monitors lit up the south wall, showing him every detail of everything moving in the vicinity. He watched closely for a moment, satisfying himself that they were alone.

  Only then did he turn around to face her, and his heart seemed to freeze in his chest when he saw her sitting on his bed. Aside from Bryn, back before he even owned it, no one had ever set foot in his cabin. He needed it that way. After growing up in shitty foster homes, he needed a place where he could sleep without watching his back. He needed a space that belonged only to him, where no one could ever make a single rule that he had to obey. He needed this place to be his...but as he watched Bryn sitting on his bed, it felt right to have her there with him. It had always belonged to both of them, even when she wasn't there. Something eased inside his chest, something that had been hurting for a long time.

  Her hair was tangled around her shoulders, and she looked tiny in his jacket. She was holding her arm awkwardly like it still hurt. Protectiveness surged deep inside him, a need to keep her safe. It was fierce, calling out his warrior side, but at the same time, it was soft, warm, all the things he'd long ago forgotten how to feel.

  He'd forgotten what she gave to him. In his crappy childhood, she'd been the one breath of life and warmth. The one thing that had made him smile. The person who had taught him what it was like to have someone care about him. He'd changed since then. He'd become a survivor. He'd done things that had forced him to become hard...and he hadn't noticed it. Until now. Until he felt the same feelings she'd brought out in him before, so long ago.

  He walked over to the bed and crouched in front of her. For a long moment, he didn't even know what to say. She looked down at him, and her eyebrows went up. "What?"

  He shook his head, and brushed his fingers through a lock of her hair that had fallen forward. "I forgot," he said softly. "I forgot what it feels like to be with you."

  She smiled then, her face softening. "It's been a long time, but it also feels like yesterday."

  He nodded. "I'm sorry I left."

  Her smile faded. "I'm sorry that you turned into a murderous werewolf."

  He couldn't help the laughter that burst from him at her remark. "Yeah, well, I'm sorry about that too." He nodded at her arm. "Let's take care of your wound."

  "Yes, I think it needs some attention." She immediately began to shrug off his jacket, wincing when the heavy leather slid down her arm. He helped her get it off, viscerally aware that she was wearing only a thin tank top beneath it. The curve of her breasts and the dark shadows of her nipples were easily visible, and desire surged through him.

  Swearing, he shoved his lust aside, instead taking her arm to inspect it. His job wasn't to seduce her. His job was to take care of his best friend, and he needed to focus on that. The fact that he couldn't stop thinking of her as a woman was his problem, not hers. He let out his breath and examined the injury. The wound was crusted with blood, but he didn't think it was too deep. "I need to clean it."

  "Okay." She made no noise of protest as he began to work on it, her only sign of pain was the way she was biting her lower lip. "What's it like?" she asked. "Being a shifter? Do you..." Her gaze slipped to his. "Do you have trouble controlling it?"

  He thought of the hell he went through at first. He hated what he'd been, and he didn't want her to look at him and see who he really was. He knew she'd never sit there on the bed, locking herself in his cabin with him if she knew the truth. His life had become so dark and gritty. She was too untainted for it, and he needed her to stay the way she was. She made him feel like he could breathe again, like he could pull himself away from the darkness of his life and see sunshine, even if just for a moment.

  "Cash." Her voice was soft. "Tell me."

  He ground his jaw, focusing on her injury. "You won't look at me the same way," he said quietly. "You're going to see a monster." He finished cleaning the wound and began to wrap it, his fingers moving deftly after all the wounds he'd had to wrap on himself over the years. "I can't handle it if you look at me like I'm a monster," he admitted. "Anyone but you."

  "Cash." She touched his cheek with her free hand, and he looked up at her. His heart skipped a beat when he saw the softness in her eyes. "I'll see you. I always have. I want to know what you've endured. You've always let me carry some of your burden. Let me do it again."

&
nbsp; He let out his breath and said nothing as he finished her arm. He wouldn't even know where to start. The only bright spot in his life was the period of time when they'd been friends so long ago. Since then, everything had just been an endless, relentless cycle of darkness, a world she didn't belong in.

  She said nothing, watching him as he packed up the supplies. He set them on the counter in his kitchenette, and then turned to face her, resting his hands on the counter behind him. He didn't want her to know, but at the same time, he did. Bryn was the only one in his life who knew him before, the one person who saw him as a human being. He and Drake were tight, but they knew each other as the monsters they currently were. Somehow, he felt that if Bryn could see what he'd become, yet still see his humanity, then maybe it was still a part of him.

  "When it first happened, I had no control," he finally said. It was the truth, but superficially so. There were no words to describe the depths of what it had been like to lose control of his body, his mind, his urges. "Every time I felt threatened, I shifted. I hunted when I was in wolf form. I became an animal."

  She sighed in empathy, not fear. "Did you kill people? Hunt them?"

  He shrugged. "I don't know. At the beginning, I didn't always have full recollection when I returned to human form. I saw news reports that confirmed my flashes of memories, though. People who had been...attacked."

  She didn't look away from him. She just sat quietly, watching him, listening.

  He ran his hand through his hair. "Drake and I were attacked and almost killed when we accidentally crossed into the pack's territory the first time. Young males weren't welcome. But Jace was there, and he stopped the others from killing us." He looked over at her. "He saved me, Bryn. He taught us how to control our wolves. He taught us how to become skilled fighters, not mindless killers. If we'd been a part of the pack from the start, we never would have gone through the hell we did when we were teens, but at least Jace taught us how to bring it back under control. I still have the urges, but I direct them now to outlets that I choose."