Finding Chrissten

Chapter Eleven

Later that afternoon, Chrissten lay on the bed upstairs listening to the sounds of the city outside her window. In spite of her determination to help in the bar and work in the kitchen, she’d tired easily and had been forced to retreat for a nap after lunch. At least she’d managed to miss her father’s visit. Or at least postponed it. She’d heard him arrive just as she’d started up the stairs to the apartment. Thankfully, Quinn or someone had kept him away. He’d probably be there when she went downstairs but, for now, she was alone with her thoughts.

She turned onto her side and stared toward the window. From this angle, she could see the tops of some buildings and a thick swatch of gray sky. It matched her mood. Gray. She sighed and traced her index finger over the top of the comforter, making an abstract pattern.

Frustration ate at her. She wasn’t strong enough to fight Brian, not yet. But the continued weakness in her body was making her crazy. She knew she should be thankful just to be alive. And she was. No doubt about it. But she wanted the final confrontation over and done with. Until it was, her life was in limbo.

“You need to see if you can still shift,” she murmured. She was half-afraid she might discover she’d lost the ability to do so. Back in the final weeks of her captivity, she’d tried over and over to make the shift into her wolf but had been too weak to accomplish it. It had been like losing a vital piece of herself. The terror, the debilitating sense of loss, of anger, had weakened her further as she’d kept trying over and over until she’d finally had to admit defeat.

There was no time like the present. For the first time since she was brought here, she was alone. Kevin had just gone downstairs moments ago and Chrissten expected his replacement any minute. The lack of privacy was maddening. Yes, she appreciated the security and protection. She understood why they felt the need for it. But that didn’t make it any easier. She couldn’t think or plan, not with someone always with her, watching and gauging her moods.

Chrissten rolled out of bed and unbuttoned the nightgown she’d changed into before she’d settled in for her nap. She gave her shoulders a shrug and the fabric slipped down her arms and over her body to pool at her feet. She stepped out, took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

Her wolf was waiting for her and gave an encouraging chuff. Chrissten reached for that part of herself. There really was no separation between them. They were two sides of the same coin. Her human side and her wolf side were both essential to her. She knew in her heart she couldn’t survive without her wolf.

A bead of sweat formed on her forehead and slid down her temple. She concentrated, shutting out everything else, all other distractions. She had to do this.

She pictured the wolf as clearly as she could. The strong, compact body. The light brown fur streaked with blonde patches. The blue eyes. Her eyes.

Every muscle in her body tensed. She willed her body to change. Commanded it to change.

She gritted her teeth, refusing to admit defeat. She could do this. The wolf was part of her. All she had to do was reach for it. Accept it.

Her limbs began to morph. Bones cracked and reformed. Some grew while others shortened. Fur replaced smooth skin. Chrissten gave a faint cry as she fell forward, catching herself not with her hands but with her front paws. Her vision changed, becoming sharper.

She’d done it. She’d really done it.

Sheer joy filled her. She wanted to howl. She wanted to run as fast as her four legs could carry her. Alive. She felt totally alive for the first time in months.

The doorknob rattled and she whirled around, teeth bared. The door pushed inward and Hank stepped inside. His nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. He shoved the heavy panel closed, shutting them inside the bedroom.

Chrissten’s heart began to pound. What would he think of her?

She shook herself. Who cared what he thought of her. It didn’t matter. She could reach for her wolf, embrace it and use the strength that was part of her birthright.

“I knew you’d look like this.” Hank took a step toward her, stopping when she backed into the corner.

He held his hands out in front of him. “It’s okay.” He shook his head, his expression slightly dazed. “My God, you’re gorgeous.”

The look in his eyes, the sincerity of his words, had her raising her head, her muzzle going haughtily in the air. She couldn’t deny how good his easy acceptance and praise felt. No one had ever seen her wolf. She refused to count Brian or Doctor Morton. Their opinions didn’t matter.

Yet, they had affected her. Brian had always denigrated her, telling her she was weak, reminding her that real wolves didn’t have blue eyes or blonde fur. Which was just stupid when she thought about it. Eye and fur color had to vary within the wolf community just as it did in the human one. There had to be pureblood wolves out there with blue eyes, maybe even gray or green. But there was no reasoning with a wolf like Brian.

Hank took another step toward her, his hand held out in front of him. “May I?”

It was obvious he wanted to touch her, and she wanted to feel his hands stroke through her fur. Her wolf preened and pranced forward before Chrissten had fully made up her mind what she wanted to do.

He crouched in front of her and extended his hand slowly. “Your fur is so fucking beautiful. The colors…” He shook his head as if he couldn’t find the right words.

Chrissten shivered when his fingers brushed the top of her head and stroked over her left flank.

“Is this the first time you’ve shifted?” She knew he meant since her liberation from captivity and nodded.

Hank continued to rub up and down her side. His touch calmed her racing heart and settled her nerves. She’d truly done it. She was on the way to a full recovery. Brian and the doctor hadn’t stolen this from her.

When his hand brushed against her muzzle, she licked it. His skin was salty. He smelled musky and male with a tinge of soap and coffee. His voice was deep and rough when he spoke. “Would you like to see my wolf?”

Excitement filled her. Yes, she wanted to see his wolf. She’d seen her brother, and of course, Brian, but never any other wolf. She gave a light yip.

Hank smiled. It changed his features, moving him from ruggedly handsome into a walking damp-panties fantasy. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He stood and quickly kicked off his shoes. His gaze never left hers as he stripped off his shirt, jeans and socks, piling it all neatly on the end of the bed. She’d noticed that about him. He was always tidy. His apartment was simple and everything was always in its place. She suspected it was a holdover from his army days. Or perhaps it was simply part of his personality.

He was left standing only in his underwear, a pair of sexy blue boxer briefs. If the man were on a billboard he’d sell millions of pairs of underwear. If men didn’t buy them their girlfriends and wives certainly would, if only in the faint hope the underwear would make their own men look this good.

His shoulders were impossibly wide. His broad chest tapered down to a trim waist. His thighs were heavily muscled. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she panted.

Hank grinned and stripped off his briefs, tossing them on top of the pile of clothing. She couldn’t take her eyes off him as he began to shift. She’d seen Quinn change into his wolf several times, but this was totally different. Anticipation thrummed through her. She couldn’t wait to see him.

Muscles rippled. His jaw cracked and elongated. He fell forward onto his hands and knees. Limbs reformed into strong back and forelegs, ending in gigantic paws. Pale blue eyes stared back at her. He was huge. Much bigger than she was.

But it was his fur that captured her attention. It was various shades of brown mixed with patches of blond. His fur was like hers. Yes, he had more brown than she did. But the blond was there.

Half-breed. They were both half-breeds. It was their human halves that allowed them to be different. Their eyes weren’t brown or black, but blue. Their fur was more than simply black or brown or gray.

He was magnificent.

He didn’t move but she could practically feel him urging her toward him. She crept forward, keeping her eyes pinned on him. Even though she knew he wouldn’t hurt her it still wasn’t an easy thing to do. Brian had attacked her several times when he was in his wolf form. His sharp claws had raked her sides. His razor teeth had torn her skin.

She flinched and whimpered.

Hank lowered his head and then his large body to the ground, making himself vulnerable to her.

In that moment, she fell a bit more in love with him. It wasn’t fair. She was tied to a man she loathed with every breath in her body, unable to fully explore her attraction to Hank.

He gave a chuff of encouragement. Chrissten felt like a coward simply standing there staring at him. She inched forward and carefully lowered her muzzle until it touched his. His long, pink tongue came out to swipe at her. She jerked back. He gave a low whine, almost an apology.

Chrissten moved forward again. She stretched out onto the floor and pulled herself forward until their noses were touching. Hanks gaze snagged hers. She stared into his beautiful eyes, seeing herself reflected there.

What she saw stunned her—acceptance, arousal and something else, something that made her heart quiver. She saw genuine caring, possibly even the stirrings of love.

It couldn’t be. They barely knew one another.

Hank lay motionless, his belly flat against the hardwood floor. He didn’t want to do anything that might spook Chrissten. She was already nervous enough as it was. One false move might send her into retreat.

When he’d walked in the room and found her not in bed, but in her wolf form, it had taken all his strength not to fall to his knees in front of her. He’d never seen anything as breathtaking as Chrissten with her colorful pelt and soulful blue eyes.

Mine.

The word beat at his brain like a hammer on an anvil, driving it deeper with each passing second. The urge to touch her, to claim her, had been overwhelming. He’d had to force himself not to do anything stupid. Patience was the key with this wounded warrior.

He’d seen the expression in her eyes. There had been pride and fear and longing. The pride made his chest puff out, the fear had almost broken his heart, while the longing had scorched his soul.

The feel of her fur sliding in and around his fingers as he stroked her was one of the most erotic sensations he’d ever experienced. He was totally aroused. Not that she’d noticed. Or at least he hoped she hadn’t. He didn’t want her to feel overwhelmed or threatened in any way.

The urge to share himself with her shoved aside common sense and he’d held his breath after he’d asked her if she wanted to see his wolf. Pleasure burst through him when she’d nodded.

Now they were lying face to face on the floor with her inching her way toward him until their noses barely touched. Once again, he swiped his tongue out, licking her muzzle. This time she didn’t pull away, but accepted his touch.

The moment was fraught with emotion. There was nothing sexual about their touch, yet it felt even more intimate than if their bodies were joined. They were sharing themselves freely with one another, opening themselves up and saying, “This is what I am.”

His ears perked up as a faint sound reached them. He jumped to his feet and whirled around as the knob turned and the door opened.

Quinn stood in the doorway, his expression fierce. Tension rolled off him in waves. “What the fuck is going on here?”

Quinn took a step into the room and Hank immediately positioned himself in front of Chrissten, protecting her. He didn’t care if Quinn was her brother. He’d seen the flash of panic in her gaze when she’d realized someone was coming. And not just anyone. Her brother. Her twin.

They had a bond that Hank couldn’t even begin to fathom. But he didn’t care. He had a bond with Chrissten too. And if he had his way that bond would eventually intensify and become the deepest one of all—mates.

Quinn strode forward and stopped short when Hank growled at him, showing his extremely sharp fangs. That’s right. Think before you take another step. He’d take Quinn down if he had to.

He heard a rustling sound behind him and wanted to howl in frustration. Chrissten had shifted back to human form and he’d missed the transformation. He’d wanted to see her change, something else for him to be pissed at Quinn about. Not only had he interrupted them, but he’d also robbed Hank of something very special.

A slender hand came down on the top of his head. The sleeve of her nightgown brushed his fur. Hank stilled but didn’t back down.

“I can change into my wolf.” Chrissten’s voice was calm and Hank was so proud of her, of the way she faced her brother.

“That’s great, but what the hell is he doing?” Quinn pointed at him where he stood slightly in front of Chrissten. Hank responded by giving a menacing growl.

“Stop it, both of you.” Chrissten curled her fingers inward, gripping his fur as firmly as she could. That wouldn’t keep him from attacking Quinn if he did anything to upset her.

“I’d never seen anyone else change into a wolf besides you and Brian. I wanted to see what Hank’s wolf looked like.”

It was more than that, so much more. But he instinctively knew she didn’t want her brother to discover the intimacy growing between them. Although the guy would have to be an idiot not to suspect something was up. And Quinn was nobody’s dummy.

“I don’t like it,” Quinn rumbled.

“It’s not up to you,” Chrissten shot back. She stepped around Hank and went to her brother. He trotted alongside her, not willing to leave her undefended, not for a second. It didn’t matter to him that Quinn was her brother.

“Quinn.” She put her hand on his chest. “I had to see if I could still do it, if I could reach my wolf. I haven’t been able to for such a long time now.”

Shit. Hank hadn’t known that. And from the looks of Quinn’s face he hadn’t either. He couldn’t imagine not being able to access his wolf. It would be like losing one of your senses. Or worse.

Quinn raked his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t know.” His eyes reflected the horror he felt. “What happened?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe it was because I was so weak. Maybe a part of me was rejecting that part of myself because of all the pain and suffering it brought into my life. I don’t know. All I know is I reached for her one day and couldn’t connect with her.” She lowered her head and sighed. Hank could hear a world of pain in that soft sound. “It was like a part of me was gone.”

Quinn dragged his sister into his arms. Hank felt out of place, like the third wheel. He slowly backed away from the pair. Chrissten’s back was to him as he shifted into his human form and quickly dressed. Quinn glared at him over his sister’s shoulder. Hank ignored him. He didn’t care what Quinn thought. He’d done what was best for Chrissten.

Chrissten pulled away from her brother, turned her head and smiled at him. “Thank you, Hank.”

He didn’t want her thanks. He especially didn’t like the tone of her voice. It was almost dismissive. Like she didn’t want to admit just how intimate things had gotten between them. She was setting up barriers again.

That was okay. He was good at getting around obstacles. Most men would make the mistake of trying to knock down her defenses. Hank was smart enough to know that would only make her reinforce them even more. No, he’d bide his time and sneak around her defenses when the time was right.

“My pleasure.” Those two words said so much. Chrissten blushed and Quinn frowned at him.

Quinn took his sister by the shoulders. “You need to get dressed and come downstairs. Donovan wants to talk to you.”

Hank noted neither sibling called Donovan Brody father. Not that he blamed them. They’d spent their entire lives without him. Yet he was an ally, a strong one, and one they couldn’t turn away. Not with a group of purebloods searching for Chrissten and other females to claim.

Hank could understand their longing for a mate. But he could not, would not tolerate their violence and lack of respect toward females. They were more than simply brood mates. They had rights and feelings that needed to be respected. Any male who hurt a female was the lowest form of scum as far as Hank was concerned, and in need of killing.

“I’ll wait downstairs.” As much as he wanted to stay with Chrissten while she dressed and walk her down, he knew Quinn wouldn’t allow it. He could fight with the other male but it would get him nowhere with Chrissten.

There was a time and a place to fight, and this wasn’t it. Suppressing his urges to remain with Chrissten, he nodded at her and headed toward the door. She put her hand on his arm, stopping him.

She started to say something but stopped. Having Quinn there was seriously putting a damper on things between them. Hank offered her a smile. “It’s okay. I understand.” And he did. Probably better than anyone else.

He knew Chrissten well enough to know she wanted to go after Brian. Maybe her brother knew it, too, but he didn’t think Quinn really believed she would. Hank did. Chrissten was not the same woman she was when she was captured. Her experience had changed her. She was tougher in some ways and extremely fragile in others.

But she was all heart and courage. He knew she didn’t want her family anywhere near Brian and the other purebloods. That’s why he had to find them first. No matter what happened to him, he wanted Chrissten safe and happy in the arms of her family.

He patted her hand, nodded at Quinn and left the apartment.