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“It’s not your body that keeps me here with you,” he said hoarsely. He brought his hand up to touch her cheek.
“Then what is it?” she asked, her eyelids fluttering close.
“It’s—”
Something stirred in the underbrush.
They jerked apart, and Anders gasped at the jolt of agony that coursed through him at the sharp movement. It wasn’t a werewolf at all. Only a hare.
Misti laughed. With a quickness her injured body shouldn’t possess, she snatched the hare off the ground. “Come on. Let’s find a safe place to roast this. We need clothes and a little rest.”
“Then the Wild Shades.” He nodded and did his best to hide his disappointment. That she was engaged to another left a bitter feeling in his chest, and he would be lying if he didn’t say that he wished to lay with her to try and regain what he felt had been stolen from him.
She’s not mine, he reminded himself as they settled into a cave they discovered in beyond a waterfall far to the south of where they had battled the wolves. The river would prevent others from learning their whereabouts.
She’s not mine, he thought as she expertly cooked the hare for them.
She’s not mine, he told himself as she rewashed his wounds.
She’s not mine, he tried to force himself to accept as she left him in the cave to find clothes.
She’s not mine was his last thought as he dozed. When he woke, she had returned. A light green sundress covered her body, accenting her curves. Her hands were caressing him, probably unintentionally as she rewrapped his wounds. With a groan, he sat up, captured her arm, and pulled her to him for a nice, long kiss.
Far too quickly, she broke off the kiss. “We should get going soon.”
“You haven’t slept any,” he protested.
“I don’t need to,” she said in a rush.
“Yes, you do. If the Wild Shades don’t take kindly to our presence…”
Misti grimaced, the corners of her lips lowering, and he wanted to kiss away her frown. “You have a point.”
He stood, smiling when he didn’t feel too stiff, and tended to the fire. When he looked back at her, she was already asleep.
Positioning himself so he could see the cave’s entrance and still hold her, Anders relished in the feeling of her body against his. She was fierce and strong. The way he felt drawn to her scared him. A connection like this he had never experienced before. Every part of him wanted to claim her. Hell, he’d even let her claim him. Fate brought us together. Maybe for a reason.
He never really gave much stock into fate, believing that life was what you made of it. Well, through fate or sheer will, he wanted his life to include her.
A Red Nightwalker and a Shadowed Star. Who would’ve thought?
But she wasn’t a Red Nightwalker anymore, just like he wasn’t a Shadowed Star. They could be together… if their families would let them. Which will never happen.
Maybe he was only fooling himself into thinking they weren’t a part of their packs anymore. Sure, she had slain some of her brothers, but they had been sent to kill her. And he had relished in the joy of slaying Red Nightwalkers again. He couldn’t deny that.
If it’s too ingrained in us, the hatred our packs have for each other, can we… dare we try to overcome it?
Her reluctance to be claimed by him on several occasions came back to him.
She isn’t mine. And she never will be.
5
Misti wished they could spare more time to sleep. Her body seemed to ache more as time went on rather than less, but they couldn’t risk it. The sooner they located the Wild Shades, the better.
So they pressed on. It had been years since the pack had moved away, and she could only hope they hadn’t relocated since she had last checked on their location two years ago. Her father had sent her on a long perimeter sweep of their lands, after one of their many arguments. An excuse to not see me for some time. She had lengthened that time by a good two weeks extra by seeking out the Wild Shades. While she hadn’t made contact with them, not since before they had left, she did recognize a few of them in the small community they had forged for themselves hours away on the outskirts of Sunning Hills, Arizona.
The shirt she had stolen from campers for Anders fit him tightly. While she enjoyed being able to see his muscles as he climbed, she hated seeing the stars on his back. All wolf packs branded their young with marks to distinguish them as theirs. Her pack dyed the soles of their feet red. Red Nightwalkers.
