Hunting Colby

Chapter Eight

Heat shrouded my body as I sank deeper into the cushion of my bed. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept so well and didn’t care to rise yet. Faint sunlight played over my closed eyelids, yet that wasn’t the source of my comfort.

No, my blankets kept me cozy. I reached to pull them higher over my shoulder but grabbed something large and muscular instead. I jerked my head off the pillow to see a bare arm sprawled over my torso and a jean-clad leg pinning mine under it. My pillow was actually a bicep. A nicely developed one.

Glancing over my shoulder, I met Colby’s steel green gaze. “Morning.”

“Afternoon.” His voice sounded like gravel. He removed his limbs from surrounding me and it took all my self-control not to roll over, pinning him to the cot for a full-body inspection. That could set him off in any surprising direction, and our truce was too fragile at the moment. He rose from the bed in one smooth motion and headed for the kitchen.

I curled into the warm spot he’d left and watched a shirtless Colby fill the coffeemaker. Poking at the odd sensation within my chest, I decided to name it contentment. Such a simple thing, yet the unfamiliar peace inside me grew. Reluctantly, I sat on the edge of the bed.

Jeans hanging from his hips, he crossed the room, carrying two cups.

With a snap, I closed my mouth, but nothing short of a god would have torn my gaze from his sculpted chest. Scars littered his skin, from thin lines to rough circular patches.

“You need to learn to duck.” I smiled as his head jerked and a hint of a smile played on his lips.

“I’d noticed you carried your own collection of scars.” His gaze traveled to three parallel claw marks that ran across my right thigh.

“Mine are prettier.”

He sat next to me, our shoulders almost touching. Handing me a cup, Colby’s expression grew serious. “Teach me to shift.”

“Now?”

“Why not? Being able to shift will come in handy if we get into trouble this evening.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“Nothing ever is.” He sipped his coffee and stared at nothing in particular as his thoughts turned inward. I couldn’t imagine they were good ones and enjoyed the laughing Colby so much more. The dour side already had too much airtime.

“All right then,” I said a little too loud for the small apartment. “Have you ever come close to shifting?” I took a big gulp of coffee. Damn, he could brew a mean cup. I could use it to peel paint.

Colby blinked and came back to our reality. “How would I know?”

I shrugged. “You’re faster, stronger than your usual self. The most I can change is my eyes.” Focusing on my trigger thought, I sensed my eyes fade from dark brown to golden. I grinned as Colby leaned near to take a better look.

“So we can shift just certain parts of our body?”

“Most shifters can’t. That takes a lot of control. I can because it’s the only part of my body that will shift.”

“There’s no cure for your condition?”

“Not that we’ve found.” I took another big gulp, unable to meet his frank stare. A certain hormone wasn’t created in my system. Some thought if I got pregnant it would help, but that shouldn’t be the reason I brought a pup into the world, especially without a mate at my side. Others had mentioned that once I found my mate my hormones would kick in and balance out so I could shift. Yet months after finding Colby, only my eyes still changed. The theories were endless, and I tired of trying to change what I was. “But I’m okay with it. I have nothing to prove to anyone. I’m still a shifter, I just don’t shed.”

He snorted his coffee.

“The key to shifting is finding the trigger. We gain the capability to change shape in adolescence.”

Colby set his coffee on the floor and faced me. “Like being a teenager isn’t hard enough.”

“The pack alphas know how to keep them busy and run them ragged to keep trouble to a minimum.” Fond memories of late-night runs and weekends spent hunting produced a yearning for home.

“You’d think I’d have found my trigger by now.” Colby ran his fingers through his bed-flattened hair. “Maybe I’m like you?”

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Did you ever know your birth parents?”

He frowned and shook his head.

“Not even a vague memory?”

“No.” The word snapped at me like a whip. Fine. Touchy subject. I got the hint.

Clearing my throat, I set my coffee next to his on the floor. “I ask because the most common trigger is a memory of a parent or parents when you’re a child. Don’t ask why--there are too many hypotheses.”

“That makes sense to me. Such a memory would set off a feeling of being safe or loved. I could imagine that shifting would need a sense of security for it to manifest.” A look of concentration fell upon his face.

I held my breath as he spoke. He simplified something that had taken me so long to understand. What idiots those packs were to have turned him away. He’d have been such an asset to them. Intelligence in male shifters didn’t manifest often; my pack contained enough chest-thumpers to prove my theory. Colby would have been an alpha by now if someone had given him a chance.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “It’s not working.”

“Think about your human parents?”

The look he shot me should have melted the flesh from my bones. “I am.”

A heavy feeling settled in my stomach. “Oh.” He didn’t have any good memories?

“They were decent parents, Gwen. They loved me, but my memories don’t inspire any type of security.” My confusion must have shown on my face. Leaning forward, he gathered my hands in his. “Look, I don’t want to give you any false hopes. I’m…not right in here.” He tapped his chest. “The scars are not all on my skin, if you know what I mean.”

I nodded, not trusting my voice or my words. Sometimes silence was the best answer.

“My parents couldn’t protect me. I had to do that all on my own. Vampires attacked one night. The bloodsuckers said something about my being a fucking shifter. At my age, I was strong enough to fight them back, but my parents never had a chance.”

“That’s a terrible way to find out what you are.” I ran my hands along his forearms, aching to gather him in my arms, but he’d only see it as pity and not compassion.

“So thoughts of either my human or shifter parents don’t give me the warm fuzzies.” He hung his head. “I can’t think of anything that would.”

No wonder he’d never shifted. I didn’t know what to say. Here, I had all those warm memories yet lacked the body to respond to them, and Colby lacked the trigger with a functioning system. We truly were well-matched. I chuckled.

He yanked his hands from mine. “I don’t see the humor.”

“I guess you wouldn’t, but the more we spend time together the more I’m convinced you belong to me.” I left him gaping on the bed and retrieved my jeans. Tossing his robe on the chair, I dressed.

He growled in frustration. “You’re not listening to anything I’m telling you. You’re following your instincts too blindly.”

“No.” I slipped on my boots and tucked the stake back in my waistband. “I’ve listened all night. I hear you.” I poked the large, rough scar on his shoulder, but the moment I made contact it became a caress. Sliding my hand over his taut shoulder, I couldn’t pull my gaze from it. His skin held a golden color. Sun-kissed. Bare flesh shouldn’t bother me as much as his did. The air sizzled.

I raised my chin to meet his gaze, slipped my hand behind his head, and pulled his mouth onto mine. Not an ounce of resistance met my embrace.

Colby eased into my arms as if his body had different thoughts than his mind.

Lips brushed over mine, sending a shiver over every nerve. Gentle and soft, all the things I wouldn’t associate with him. Our mouths melded and he clutched me tight. Dreams and fantasies never prepared a woman for reality. His presence encompassed mine, and I would have gladly allowed him to devour me. Instead, I broke contact for both our sakes. I didn’t want to add to Colby’s scars. I wanted to be the one who soothed them. “But you need to hear me. Are you listening yet?”

He swallowed visibly but didn’t release his hold. “I might be deaf.” A chagrined smile spread across his face.

I raised an eyebrow. “You own a sense of humor? That’ll take some getting used to.”

“Seriously, I hear you, ever since we met. I always knew where you were.” His grin grew wider. “Even when you lost track of me.”

I gasped. “You bastard.”

“Ah, see now, you are truly understanding.” He set my hand over his heart. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“By breaking my heart?” I withdrew from his arms.

“That’s not fair. We haven’t known each other that long.” He went to the closet and pulled on a black T-shirt, shoving a wooden stake in his back pocket.

“You’re right, we haven’t.” I set my hands on my hips so they wouldn’t wander to touch him again. “Doesn’t mean I don’t know how I feel. Tell me, if we were human, without our shifter connection, would my feelings matter more?”

He opened his mouth then shut it, tilting his head to the side as if trying to decide what the right answer was. “Can this be a multiple choice question?”

I stomped my foot. “Never mind. It obviously doesn’t matter.” Glancing at the window, I noted the sun barely below the horizon. “We should go. We might be able to pick up Alcide’s trail if we’re lucky.” I tossed my jacket over my shoulders and opened the door.

Before I could step out, a hand snaked around me and pushed it closed.

Spinning around, I came face to face with Colby, our noses almost bumping. “I’m done running from you.”

A fast smile slipped through my control. I’d won?

“But I’m not making any promises.”

My heart raced. “I never asked for one.”