Mated to the Wolf

His expression shuttered. “Your father was a demon with a hefty bounty on his scalp. He’d been warned not to mess with humans and ignored it.”

“And my mother? She was an angel.” Samantha squeezed her fists. Blood seeped from her palms as her talons emerged, digging into soft flesh. Her powers were returning. The demon inside her emerged with fear. It roared for justice, craved for the kill.

“A fallen angel, who failed at her mission to destroy your father. The Society banished her for breaking the laws.”

“They fell in love! Is love against your laws, too?”

“Mating a demon is, and she knew it, knew the consequences.” His rugged voice softened. “They were left alone until your father killed that human.”

“That human butchered our neighbors and their children. They never hurt anyone. Our town was a little haven from crime until that killer came along!”

“I know. But our laws are clear. Leave the justice for mortals. Your father stirred up a load of trouble when he took the law into his hands. He was warned not to interfere. He paid the price.”

Grayson took a step closer, crowding her against the bed. “Maybe you forgot about the panic when the public found a corpse ripped to shreds and hanging upside down. Rumors started about demons and witches. Our world was nearly exposed, not to mention your father’s rage unleashed black magick on the town. It took a year before the darkness was expelled and by then, four houses were burned to the ground, ten divorces took place, a host of kids fell prey to drugs. That’s what your father’s rage did.”

Troubled, she fell silent. She’d been blissfully ignorant of the happenings around her. Her mother had shielded them from it.

“Did you ever pause to think that maybe your father’s nature drew that killer to the house next door?”

“He changed when he married my mother. He wasn’t evil.”

Grayson stepped closer, forcing her to sit on the bed. “Like attracts like, darkness attracts darkness. When he wasn’t playing house, he sacrificed animals to keep his power alive. It drew evil straight to the source and suddenly that nice small town wasn’t so nice anymore.”

The venison stew in her stomach curdled. “It’s all lies.”

He leaned over her, caging her with his arms on either side of her body. Warm breath tickled her cheek, smelling of mints and whiskey.

“Sometimes we choose to ignore what our family does because it cuts too deep. But truth is truth.”

Insight came as the white light inside her hummed, pushing aside her demon half. Samantha reached up with one hand, hovering above his marred cheek. “Is that what happened to you, Grayson? Did you get that scar from someone in your family cutting too deeply?”

The Hunter yanked away, his mouth a narrow slash. “Keep out of my personal business, Samantha. This isn’t about me.”

“You’re butting into mine.” Sensing Grayson’s weakness, the demon nudged aside the angelic half.

“It’s my job. I’m a slave to duty. It’s what kept me ticking all these years.”

The jeering sarcasm hid something. She wondered what evil he’d witnessed all his years on this earth, what tragedy of human misery and suffering. Compassion filled her. She wanted to touch him, soothe away the strain on his face.

As she reached out, he jerked away. She dropped her hand with a shaky sigh. Getting close to this wolf was dangerous. He could derail her from keeping a sacred promise. No matter. Soon enough, she’d be on her way.

Grayson’s expression shuttered. “It’s late. I’m going to bed.”

Without saying anything, she went to the window, lifted the curtain. Freezing rain pelted the glass. She felt stronger, but the weather would wear her down fast.

Samantha turned, saw him tug the shirt over his head, exposing a hard male chest darkened with springy hairs. Fascination spiraled through her as she stared at his well-defined pectorals and flat stomach rippling with muscles. Low in her belly, a strange tugging ensued.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

“I always sleep naked.”

Her breath caught in her throat as he unzipped his jeans, pulled them down. Commando. Crisp dark hairs surrounded a long, thick penis, impressive even at rest. She stared, transfixed.

Grayson shrugged out of his pants. He regarded her, as comfortable in his nudity as a wolf in his skin. “Get undressed, Samantha. Now.”

Chapter Three

“No. I’d rather walk naked through a snowstorm than sleep with you, wolf.”

Gray eyes the color of steel danced with amusement. “Did I say anything about sleep?”

Samantha glared at him. “We are not having sex.”

“Not now.” He gave another of those sexy, crooked smiles and went to a closet. He belted on a black robe. Samantha sighed in relief. Not that the view wasn’t nice but it was too damn distracting.

Grayson snagged a white robe off a hanger and tossed it at her. “Get undressed and put this on. Your body is sore and has been through too much. You need a soak in the tub. A little pampering will help you relax.”

After a week of tepid showers, the thought of a hot bath made her mouth water. Samantha eyed him warily. “Why are you interested in my welfare?

“It’s not your welfare that has my interest, fair maiden.” He wagged his brows and she nearly laughed. Grayson was dangerously charming.

When he left the bedroom, she remained, taking the opportunity to study her prison. The bedroom had pine furniture and lamps made from elk antlers. Blue-and-green checked curtains added to the masculine look. But when she tried opening a window, she found it jammed. Painted shut. Or warded with magick.

Grayson returned. “Your bath is ready. I suggest you make good use of it while the water’s hot.”

Since she was stuck here for now, the wolf obviously knew a bath would relax her when she needed to remain alert and sharp. The wolf was no dummy. But the temptation proved too much. Samantha picked up the robe and marched down the hallway to the bathroom.

A large sunken marble tub sat on a platform beside a glass window showing a silver vista of frost-covered meadow. Little bouquets of flowers in his bathroom were incongruous with Grayson’s rugged masculine appearance. Then again, everything about Grayson seemed incongruous.

Steam curled from the water and the scent of vanilla hovered in the air. Crowing with delight, she stepped inside the bathroom. Samantha firmly closed the door, shrugged out of her clothing and hung the robe on a brass hook.

Why would a powerful Ancient, and a bounty hunter, be interested in pampering her? Why didn’t he simply shoot her, or torture her and then drag her into the Society to collect his money?

Before enjoying the tub, she took a quick, hot shower, scrubbing away two days’ worth of road grime.

Then she, combed her hair and headed for the tub. Bubbles popped and crackled as Samantha stepped into the foamy water. She sank down with a happy sigh, leaned back against the tub, letting the warmth work into her aching muscles and tired limbs. Once she’d had a home as expansive as this, with all the bubble baths she wanted. Not a life spent hiding in fear from those who wanted to hurt her for being a Darklighter.

A lump clogged her throat as she remembered peeking through the partly opened closet door to see her father gasping his last, his arms around her mother. Blood trickling across the hardwood floor to pool at her feet. Her fist stuffed into her mouth to stop her screams…

Cloaked by shadows in the dimly lit room, the killer’s face had been hidden. But she would never forget her mother screaming out in terror, “No, please not Jerome Cabot!”

Before the Hunter drew his knife and cut her throat.

Tears burned the back of her eyes. Samantha blinked them away, refusing to surrender to grief. That night she’d sworn a vow to her dead father to find this Jerome, the Hunter who had taken their lives.

Nearly carving the Fae in half had put a price on her head. But the Fae had been arrogant, and dismissive when Samantha asked about finding Jerome. And then the Fae had taunted her about her parents, how they had deserved their fate. Even suggested Samantha should suffer the same.

The taunts had caused her demon to rage out of control. She’d gone into a trance and came out of it with blood on her hands, feathers everywhere and the shrieks of the Fae’s pain echoing in her ears.

But her demon had gotten the important information, revealed only after the Fae got acquainted with Samantha’s sharp talons and her knife. Jerome was in this area of Colorado. When she found him, the Hunter would suffer.

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