Dark Wolf Returning. Rhyannon Byrd
breath, Eli lifted his hand and wiped the blood from the corner of his lip as he brought his gaze back to hers.
“What the hell is so funny?” Her soft words vibrated with fury.
“Nothing,” he murmured, thinking he’d come close to getting what he wanted. Someone’s blood had been drawn, just not hers. And not in the way he’d hoped for.
Contempt clouded her expression. “You never could just give an honest answer to a question, could you?”
“Insults and accusations already?” he drawled, sliding back into his chair. The worst thing in the world he could do was let her know how the sight of her affected him, especially when he could feel his own angry frustration with fate and life and her blatant hatred building inside him, desperate for release. “That didn’t take long.”
She drew in a sharp breath at his snide tone, the skin around her eyes tightening as she took the seat across from him and asked a passing server for a Scotch. It was clear from the look on her face that she hadn’t meant to launch into the topic of their past. She was irritated with herself that she had, and seemed determined to get to the point of this strange, unexpected visit. “You know about your dad?”
“That he’s dead?” He lifted a hand, rubbing his stubbled jaw. “Yeah, I heard about it.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, a painful mix of emotions flashed through her eyes before she managed to bank them. “And you didn’t think to come home?” she asked in a careful tone.
Brows drawn together, he tried to reason out why she thought the death of his psychotic father would herald his immediate return. Had the entire pack thought he would come crawling back the moment he learned that dear ol’ daddy had staged a bloodthirsty coup that resulted in the death of the pack’s entire governing body, the League of Elders? An attack that would have led to Stefan Drake’s total control of the Silvercrest Lycans, if not for the help of the half-breeds his racist father had tried so hard to turn the pack against.
The League of Elders might have banished Eli for the unsanctioned kill he’d made on one of the rapists who’d attacked his sister three years ago...but they weren’t the only reason he’d stayed away. Hell, they weren’t even at the top of the list. No, his reasons for staying away had far more to do with... Well, with things he spent a lot of time trying not to think about. Things he was still trying to figure out how to deal with.
And every damn one of those things had to do with the woman sitting across from him.
Voice low, he finally responded to her question. “Once I heard that you and Eric and Elise were all right, I didn’t see any reason to rush home. But I didn’t plan on staying away forever, Rey. I was coming back.”
“When?” she asked, as the server set her drink on the table.
“Now, if you can believe it. That’s where we’re headed.”
“Bullshit.” She gave a bitter laugh. “You know what I think? I think you were waiting for me to come to you. And here I am,” she offered with a sharp smile, spreading her arms wide, and he couldn’t help but notice the way the cotton shirt stretched tight across her mouthwatering breasts. Then she leaned forward, bracing her palms flat on the rickety little table with its scarred surface and dirty ashtray, and lowered her voice. “But I’m not here to beg for myself, Eli. I just need you and your ragtag little group to come back with me and do what you do best.”
Hoping to rile her into hitting him again, like some kind of masochist—though he was pretty sure he just wanted to feel her hands on him—his lips curled in a cocky smirk. “You have no idea what I do best. You only got part of the show, if you’ll recall.”
“Not interested,” she grunted in response to his silky, suggestive tone, before taking a drink of her Scotch. She winced as she swallowed the smoky alcohol, then wiped her mouth and shot his cocky expression right back at him. “And let’s face it, Eli. The only thing you’ve ever done well is kill.”
“Ouch, Reyes. If I didn’t know better,” he murmured, clucking his tongue, “I’d say you don’t like me anymore.”
She rolled her eyes. “Just get your band of Merry Men together and let’s get out of here.”
“Merry Men?” he snorted. “I’m no bloody Robin Hood.”
She smirked. “Yeah, what was I thinking? The idea of giving something to the less fortunate is probably a little sappy for a guy like you.”
“A guy like me?”
Lifting her brows, she said, “You know, the big bad mercenary who doesn’t give a shit about anything or anyone, except for how much they can pay him. I hear you’ve cultivated the reputation well.”
Irritation burned through his veins, not easy to hide. But he managed with a lazy grin and a slow drawl. “You shouldn’t believe everything you hear. A lot of men will lie when it suits them.”
“Oh, God.” She suddenly started to laugh so hard it made him scowl. Wiping the tears from her glittering eyes, she finally managed to splutter, “D-don’t I know it.”
Hell, he’d walked right into that one.
A fraction of his control began to slip, his hands flexing as he fought the urge to reach out and grab her, yanking her into his lap. “You’re pushing it, Reyes.”
Her laughter faded, and she kept her gaze on the Scotch as she swirled it in her glass. “If you’re uncomfortable with my attitude or reactions,” she murmured, “then I gotta tell you that I don’t really care. I’m not here to make you feel better, or to talk about the past.” She stopped swirling her drink, her dark gaze lifting, locking with his. “I’m here because your family needs you. You do recall that you have a brother and sister, right? And I can only imagine they have a hell of a lot to say to you right now, considering you haven’t been returning their calls.” She pushed back from the table and gave him a look that would probably scare a lot of men into doing whatever the hell she wanted them to. “Now get off your ass and let’s get out of here.”
“No,” he rasped. “Not until you answer a few of my questions.”
“Like we have the time,” she started to argue, but he cut her off.
“We have as much time as we need, because I’m not going anywhere until you fucking spill.” He took a deep swallow of his whiskey, and waited for her to bring her chair back to the table, before asking, “You came here alone?”
“Of course.” At the look on his face, she said, “What? You thought someone needed to come with me and hold my hand?”
His jaw got tighter. “Why now?”
She glared back at him as if she couldn’t understand what his problem was. “War isn’t enough of a reason?”
“From what I’ve understood from Eric’s messages, the Silvercrest have been in trouble for a while now.”
“With no help from you, huh?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Like I said, I was planning to head back.”
“Right. How kind of you.”
“Why now, Reyes? Why you? You didn’t rush out and try to track me down months ago, when this all started. So tell me the truth. Why— Now?”
She held his stare, and he could tell she was planning on just waiting him out, until she let herself really look him in the eye. Whatever she saw there, whether it was anger or his sheer determination—it made her frown deepen. Forcing the words out between her quickening breaths, she told him, “It was the right time. I felt...raw. And I suddenly knew I could find you. When I was in danger, the bond started to pull at me—”
“So you feel it, too?” he cut in sharply, interrupting her explanation. His heart started trying to pound its way through his chest with hard, violent beats, and it was all he could do to stay in his damn chair in