Chapter Two

Parker Liberty wasn’t sure he could take any more of that she-wolf’s tempting smell.

He might actually go insane. Pacing around outside the restaurant, wasn’t improving his mood.

Out of all the truck stops in the world why did she have to come to this one? He shook his head. And if he was honest with himself, why did she have to leave in the morning?

He wanted to roar from the conflicting emotions inside his system right now.

His wolf yawned. You need to talk to her.

You need to stop saying that. I’m dangerous.

The wolf shook his head. I’m so tired of having this conversation.

With a silent groan, Parker bounded up the side staircase that led to the small apartment he had lived in for two decades. It wasn’t much, but it was his. Of course, it might not be for much longer. When the old man passed on to his next existence, his never-seen-nephews were going to swarm in, take the restaurant and oust him from the apartment. The old guy had told him this much himself last week.

For now, however, it was still belonged to the old man. He sat down on the couch, picking up the book he’d been reading. It was about the life and death of Oscar Wilde. It was interesting, he supposed, if you were looking for a brief discussion on what were otherwise small, unrelated events in the life of a great man…

He threw the book across the room. Nope. He wasn’t going to be able to read it today. Not with the she-wolf wandering around. And who had been those goons bothering her? She’d said they were chasing her.

Well, he knew something about that. Male wolves were dangerous. He knew that first hand. It’s why he stayed away from everyone all the time.

Standing up, he walked to the window and growled in the back of his throat when he saw her—what had she said her name was?—Angel, walking to the motel down the block. He shook his head. It didn’t matter. She’d be leaving soon.

A bang on the floor was the only indication Parker got that Bob wanted his attention downstairs.

He rolled his eyes. Just because he never took a break didn’t mean he wasn’t entitled to one, damn it.

Throwing his hands in the air, he stormed out of the apartment. Back to washing dishes.

Endlessly washing dishes.

You didn’t do anything wrong. You can stop the penance any day now.

That phrase had become his wolf’s mantra lately. Ignoring it, he walked down the outside stairs.

She’s your mate.

Parker sighed. That made it even worse.

* * *

Living next to a highway meant he spent a lot of time watching cars as they drove by at high speeds.

Every one of them had a destination, a purpose, or maybe someone waiting for them at home. Every one of them except Parker.

He leaned his head against the windowpane.

Use your senses, man. Everything smell right out there to you?

He closed his eyes. Half of his life was spent in the pursuit of not being a monster, and his wolf side did nothing but try to force him to do the things he longed never to do again.

But this time the furry pain in his ass was correct. Something was tickling his nose and not in a good way. Groaning, he opened his lids and made for the doorway of his apartment. A walk was in order. He would find the cause of his sensory distress, handle it, and then get back to his life.

Closing the door behind him, he took the steps two at a time until he was on the ground below.

He walked out toward the highway keeping his head down as he shivered in his light sweatshirt. It was still technically summer but the nights were getting colder.

His nose twitched and he wasn’t surprised to find he walked in the direction of the motel. This was going to turn out to have something to do with the she-wolf. He knew it.

His mate.

The word conjured up strange images for him, things he hadn’t thought about in so long he’d all but forgotten they ever took place

His parents holding hands walking through a pasture. The feel of his mother’s body covered in fur as she rubbed against his leg. A wolf pack moving together as one hunting well-hidden prey. The knowledge he was part of something bigger than himself.

He sighed. That was long ago and it was best left in the past where the less happy memories couldn’t harm anyone ever again. Although even he would admit those particular visions had been of pleasant times, wonderful actually.

As soon as he crossed the small bridge that was a walkway to the motel over the highway, he caught her scent. It was like oranges on the wind—fresh, enticing, and clean.

If he could, he’d dissolve into nothingness and travel with her smell alone for the rest of his life.

But of course he couldn’t do that so he might as well not get all poetic about it. He had a mission: to figure out what was wrong with Angel and then he was going back to his life.

The door to one of the motel rooms slammed open and Parker took a step back to observe. The two thugs from earlier dragged an unconscious Angel from the room, slung over one of the shoulders of the redhead.

Parker saw scarlet. He didn’t know what happened but he was sure it hadn’t been by her consent.

This was an unacceptable occurrence.

It had been two decades since Parker Liberty had given into his wolf’s demand to shift.

Let me do it. Let me do it.

He’d taken two running steps when he agreed. His wolf was right. This was going to require some canine assistance, especially since the two criminals hauling away his so-called mate smelled like wolves to him.

It was a good bet they would shift and if they were going to do it, then he needed to do it too.

A warm white light consumed him, shifting his bones, putting fur over his skin.

Before he knew it, he was down on all fours running toward his targets.

One of them whirled around as he approached at high speed. He had two seconds to register the man’s huge eyes and the cry of “Oh shit” before he slammed the foolish imbecile onto the ground.

As the man shifted into his wolf form, Parker tore and clawed at him. He wasn’t really in control of his own movements; his wolf hadn’t had this opportunity in two decades and was clearly going to make the most of it.

Having bloodied the other wolf into submission, he turned around ready to take on the man holding Angel. He growled, showing his teeth as he reveled in the feeling of using his abilities.

The redhead placed the still unconscious Angel on the ground in front of him and raised his hands in the air. “I’m sorry.” He took two steps back. “She’s not worth this much trouble. I’ve been thinking it for the last hundred miles or so. I’m not getting torn up over this. Let me take my friend. We’ll never bother her again.” Another two steps. “I promise.”

He growled. Truth was he really wanted to tear into the man’s undeserving hide.

What do you want me to do?

Internally, Parker blinked at the question. His wolf was asking him? Wasn’t this the part where he was supposed to lose his mind and start causing havoc to the entire world?

I’ve told you a million times, that isn’t in my nature. It’s always a collaboration between the two of us.

Parker didn’t want to argue except he’d seen first hand what happened when wolves went crazy. This time they were both fine. It might, however, not be so easy in the future.

Let him go.

The wolf took a step back and the redhead man ran to his friend. Parker watched as he swung the mauled body of his friend into his arms and ran.

Do you think he’ll die?

His wolf snorted. He might.

Parker shifted back to his human form, liking the feel of being in control of his own body again.

He was meant to be on two legs. The four-legged ability was an abomination.

Sighing, he gently picked Angel up. Her head hung back on his arm letting his see the large gash across her forehead.

They’d knocked her out.

Parker felt a growl form in his chest. Those two pathetic little men had put their hands on this woman hard enough to render her unconscious. He wanted to howl with anger. Now he wished he hadn’t let them go. He should have taken down the redhead too.

And if the blond died, well that would be fine by him.

The thought startled him and he almost dropped Angel. He was going to have to do some serious work on himself to get a grip on all his violent thoughts. Ignoring the fact that his wolf rolled his eyes at him, he crossed back over the bridge still holding Angel.

She was about five foot ten, he would guess, and weighed almost nothing. He wondered if she’d been eating regularly while she ran from the two wolves that would never bother her again.

He had to make sure she was okay. The need to assure himself of her health was all-consuming.

His head roared with the intense desire to get her home and taken care of. He was a big man and could cross spaces faster than normal humans. Still, he wasn’t sure he’d ever moved so fast before.

Opening the door to his apartment one handed, he carried her inside. He closed the door behind him with his foot before walking across the room to his bed. Laying her down, he stared at the beautiful woman who hadn’t stirred at all.

Well? Now what? His wolf questioned. Have I missed the part where you obtained your medical degree?

Quiet. He didn’t need any more self-doubt right now.

He went into the bathroom and ran some cold water onto a washcloth. He wrung the extra water out of the towel and then brought it back into the bedroom. Trying to be as gentle as he could be, he dabbed it on the angry-looking red cut on her forehead.

After a second, her head moved back and forth on the pillow. He bit down on his lip.

That was a good sign, he hoped. His wolf was right. He didn’t have a medical degree of any kind but it had to be positive that she stirred.

Her eyes sprang open and not one second later her hands were around his neck, squeezing as she cut off the air from his windpipe. She was strong and even as he gripped her wrist to stop her he wasn’t sure he actually could.

Someone had taught this woman who was called Angel how to fight like a devil.

Gasping as he tried to get air, he was sure he was going to lose consciousness if this went on any longer. His throat burned and her fingernails dug into his skin. Oh yeah, this was hell.

Just as abruptly as she had started squeezing, she stopped. Dropping her hands from his neck, she screamed.

“Oh my god.”

He grabbed his throat as he let his body take in all the air it needed. Oh man, his throat. It throbbed. This was going to be a problem for a while. He stood up, bending over as he gasped.

“I am so sorry. I thought you were them, the guys who whacked me over the head.”

She jumped up and as he straightened he watched her sway on her feet.

Ah hell, she was going to fall over.

He grabbed her arm and shoved her back down on the bed. She couldn’t fall over.

He’d just gotten her back up.

She stared up at him. “That’s right, you don’t speak.”

He coughed trying to clear his throat.

That wasn’t entirely true. He could speak. Well, at least he used to. It had been a conscious choice to stop and he was fairly certain he could again if he chose to. But what would that mean for his life?

Keeping his silence, not having to talk to people, it was safer. He was less likely to be a danger to anyone else as long as he maintained his distance.

Standing up straight, he moved to the kitchen to make Angel an icepack. Opening the freezer, he felt the cool air of the small appliance hit the raw, hot skin burning on his neck. For a second, he stood there and pretended the brief contact with the cold air could soothe him on the inside too.

He rolled his eyes. It wasn’t likely. Not when he’d been born to be a monster.

Parker pulled the ice out of the tray and wrapped it in a dishtowel. Angel still sat where he’d left her with her head in her hands. He’d bet she was dizzy. Having been knocked upside the head more than once himself he knew she was in for a long night.

Sitting down next to her, he placed the ice pack against her bump. She hissed, opening her eyes to look at him.

For a second, he let himself get lost in the depths of her dark eyes. If the eyes were the gateway to the soul, and he’d read that about a million times in all sorts of places, then Angel’s soul was calm and soothing to his senses. He took a deep breath, inhaling her further inside of him.

How was it possible she could be his mate? She was lovely; there was no other word to describe it. She had classical features; Rembrandt would have wanted to paint her. Her dainty nose sat perfectly on her face between the darkness of her eyes. High cheekbones framed an oval outline with olive skin he wanted to reach out and stroke.

He blinked at that thought. What the hell was wrong with him?

She’s your mate.

He could have glared at his wolf. Even more reason to stay away.

“Thank you for the ice.” She put her hand over his and held the ice pack, and his hand, against her skin.

All he wanted to do was jump up and run away. He could feel the need to move crawling up his spine. He knew the feeling too well and if he’d let himself, he would have been out the door by now.

Still, Angel’s hand was like an anchor. He physically couldn’t get up as long as her hand held him still.

Whatever else mating was, it obviously made you crazy.

“Nancy said there’s nothing wrong with you, just that you don’t speak.”

He swallowed. Yes, he could speak but at the moment he couldn’t come up with a single thing to say. Not one darn thing.

She smiled. “She thinks you suffered some kind of trauma.” Angel took his other hand in hers.

He looked down at their entwined hands. His fingers were so much bigger than hers were. He dwarfed her in every way possible.

And he could hurt her.

She continued to speak. “I don’t think it’s a trauma. I think it’s a magic problem.”

A magic problem?

His face must have shown his confusion because she laughed. “Okay, I’ll back up.

Do you know, that is to say, are you aware you are…different?”

Was she asking if he knew he was a wolf? He raised an eyebrow at her question. She might have missed the show earlier when he took out his furry half but to answer her question, yes, he was more than aware.

“Could you at least nod or shake your head?”

It had been so long since he’d replied to anyone or, maybe he needed to amend, since anyone had expected him to, he’d obviously gotten out of practice. To do what she wanted, he nodded his head.

He had to admit, it was nice to be communicating again. Maybe he should speak…

“Okay, so you know you’re a wolf.” She smiled. “Then you know I am too, and I think you get the same sense I do that we are…connected.”

That reminder was all he needed. He kept this distance in order to keep everyone safe. He’d seen it. He knew what could happen. His father had torn into his mother like she was nothing more than a feather pillow. He could still hear her screams in the middle of the night.

“Your whole face just fell. What are you thinking about? You did know you were a wolf, didn’t you? Oh god, I didn’t let the cat out of the bag, so to speak, did I?”

Her complexion went paler and he hoped it was from her misplaced worry rather than her injury.

“Well, I hope you knew.” She glanced down at the bed. “The thing is I’m really good at magic. I mean really, really good. And I think I can help you. You saved my life.” She rubbed her nose. “I can make whatever magic is doing this to you go away.”

Magic? He didn’t think this was a magic thing. It was a conscious decision he’d made to stop speaking.

His heart pound hard.

Wasn’t it?

His wolf stayed remarkable silent on the subject. He could talk. He knew he could.

He opened his mouth to tell her so and nothing came out. Grabbing his throat, like he could make his vocal cords work, he tried again. Nothing.

Standing up he moved around the room. This was unacceptable. Did his voice box— what?—Atrophy from non-use? He could still make growling noises.

To prove it, he made the noise in the base of his throat. Sure enough, it worked.

There, that was evidence. He could talk if he wanted to.

Opening his mouth, he gave it a good try.

Nothing.

He whirled around to stare at Angel. She jumped off the bed, faster than she should have considering her injury, and grabbed him by the arms.

“I know. I get it. I’m not sure how I know, maybe it’s the mating thing, but I’m sure you didn’t know right until this moment you couldn’t speak.” She squeezed his arm muscle with her hand not holding the ice. “I’m going to help you. My wolf is a powerful magic wielder. One way or another, before I leave, I will get you speaking. You have my word on it.”

He nodded as he swallowed hard. He’d like to think the stress forming in his gut was from the very real fact that he physically could not utter a word. But, he had a feeling it was more about the idea that Angel would some day leave.

Even if it was the best thing. For both of them.

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