Enchanted By The Wolf. Michele Hauf
the right reasons.”
“When is fighting ever for a good reason?”
“When it’s to protect yourself from the stupidity of others,” she said without thinking. “Just because a person is different doesn’t mean it’s okay to beat on them.”
Kir tilted such a concerned gaze on her that Bea had to think about what she’d just said. Oops. That had revealed a little more than she’d intended. She didn’t trust him that much. Time to redirect this conversation.
“So let me guess, you must have some kind of record book on all the wolves, eh? A means to find out information about them?”
“We do, but it’s not a book. Our files are digital. The database is vast and covers other species, as well. We recently managed to tap into the Order of the Stake’s computer database and downloaded their files before they could put up a firewall.”
“Everything you said sounded like gobbledygook to me. And I tend to like gobbledygook. So long as it’s warm.”
Kir stood and paced to the triangular window sized as large as the wall that looked out over the front yard and the street below.
“Let’s just say we can look up info on pretty much any paranormal species within Europe and the outlying countries. Comes in handy when we need to crack a case.”
“So, do you list faeries in that database?”
“No.” He returned to the bed and sat beside her. Brushing the hair from her face, he lingered with the tip of his finger on her ear-point. “Your realm is like another planet to us who live in the mortal realm.”
“Yeah, well, this realm is more than kooky. I mean, mortals walk around with dogs on leashes. How cruel is that? And cars.” She shuddered. “So much iron.”
“Why all the questions about the database?”
“I, uh...” She toyed with the green sandal strap.
Dare she tell him? If she didn’t, she had no clue where to begin her search in this big, vast city. A city that may not even be the correct starting place for her search. How to know where to begin?
Going up on her knees before him, Bea trailed her fingers down the front of his leather vest, landing at his hip, where a tuft of her pink panty stuck out from the pants pocket. “There is something I want, beyond all these pretty material things you’ve given me.”
“Tell me. I’d like to know what would make you happy.”
She believed that he did, too. The wolf was kind. He had valiantly accepted the challenge his pack had asked of him because to refuse would go against some kind of honorable code he obeyed. At least, that’s how she dreamed he was. This knight’s armor was fashioned from leather and truth.
“Bea?”
“It’s something I’ve wanted since I was a child and I used to sit in the shadows watching my half sisters and brothers play. They’d always exclude me because Malrick made it known how unfavorable I was. The dark one.”
He stroked her hair, and she flinched at the soft touch. She hadn’t expected such tenderness from a growly wolf. And when her teardrop landed on his wrist, she quickly swiped it away and turned her shoulder to him, coiling forward as she sniffed back more tears.
What was this? She didn’t cry. She was too tough for that. Her skin had hardened to armor over the years of neglect and abuse. Where had she put her blade? Stones, but she had lost track of it!
Kir embraced her, and he tugged her against his chest even as she tried to pull away to escape the unwanted kindness. She wasn’t deserving. She was the dark one. The one no one wanted to touch.
And then something inside her cracked open and reached out for the touch. For a moment of understanding. She sank into Kir’s arms and he cradled her to his warm chest, his heartbeats lulling her, urging her to curl up against him and tuck her head beneath his chin.
“All I want,” she whispered, “is to find my mother.”
Dinner arrived via delivery and Kir set out the plates and poured red wine while Bea pulled herself together upstairs. He’d held her weeping and shivering in his arms. Never had a woman opened herself up to him like that. It had felt fragile to him, a moment he’d best handle carefully and with a reverence, given the faery’s tears. He felt honored she’d shared that with him.
But how to help her find her mother? Bea had no clue who the woman was. Malrick had never given her a species, so she literally had nothing to go on. She wasn’t positive her other half was vampire. And the database the enforcement team kept wasn’t so precise a guy could type in a random faery name such as Bea’s and get anything beyond a blinking cursor.
And really? If any in the pack knew he was allocating precious work time to help his wife track a suspected vampire, they’d have harsh words for him, for sure.
Yet he was compelled to do what he could. He preferred Bea giggling and fluttering about—even naked, if she chose—so he’d see what he could do.
Thinking about fluttering... A lithe faery skipped down the stairs and landed on the parquet floor with a barefoot bounce. Sashaying into the kitchen, her wings fluttered behind her bare shoulders. And bare body.
Kir’s eyes took in skin and softness and nipples and, oh...that sweet vee between her legs. “Uh...usually dinner is eaten clothed.”
Why had he said that? He had to get his head around the notion that the woman preferred skyclad. And, as a man, he was all for the blatant tease. But he did need a few safe respites from the kick in his libido. Like eating. Mealtime should be clothed. Maybe?
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