What Was that About?

"Do you want to tell me what happened out there?" 

I'm standing by the window when Kalen comes in, his tattered clothing barely clinging to his body, and I can't help but admire the sight. I know I shouldn't, but the way his muscles ripple beneath his skin, the way the fabric hugs his form, it's hard not to.

He looks up at me, his eyes dark, his jaw tense, and my own body responds, a delicious stir in my core that I quickly tamp down. I don't need this. I don't need the distraction, the temptation. I need to stay focused.

"Lyla," he says, his voice a low growl. "What are you doing by the window? You could have been seen!"

I lift my chin, meeting his gaze. "I’m not that stupid. I kept out of sight.” I take a step closer, my eyes scanning his body, taking in the blood, the bruises, the torn skin. "What happened?"

"Nothing." He drops the pile of wood by the fire and shrugs out of his clothing, keeping his back to me as he yanks on a new pair of pants. "Just a disagreement in the pack."

I allow myself to admire his backside before it disappears behind the fabric. "Kalen," I say, quietly, "I have acute hearing also, you know."

He turns around, his jaw tight, his face all hard edges. My eyes take in his sculpted abs before glancing over the cuts and scrapes on his face, and I wince.

"Lyla." He takes a step closer, his eyes boring into mine. "It's nothing you need to worry about."

"I heard the words. I'm causing trouble just be being here. I knew it would come to this. I can't let you fight your pack because of me." My voice cracks, but I swallow, standing straight, feeling the dull ache from my healing wounds. "I'm going to leave."

He stares at me a long moment, his blue eyes unreadable. His chest heaves with each breath, but I have no idea what’s going on behind his eyes. Then his brow furrows, and he shakes his head. "No."

"It's the only way. Someone will get hurt."

He takes another step, his hand lifting, and I jerk back, not sure what I’m expecting. But then he cups my jaw, his grip somehow iron-strong and tender at the same moment. "Stay." His voice is low, a growl, a plea. "Just stay a little longer. Let me help you heal. And then I'll help you leave."

My heart races as if my alpha just gave me a command. My eyes close at his touch, my body leaning toward him, and I force myself to step back. "I don't know if I can wait."

"I do." He drops his hand, keeping his eyes on me, and I catch the way his gaze travels over my body, taking in my curves, my skin. "Stay. Just a little longer."

I should say no. I should walk away.

But I can't. I'm drawn to him. My will to resist crumbles away, and I nod. 

Kalen exhales, his shoulders relaxing, his expression softening. "Thank you."

I don’t reply. I turn and crouch by the fire, throwing another log on and opening a jar of herbs next to the hearth. “Are these for healing? Let me tend to your wounds.”

“I can do it,” he says, his voice gruff behind me.

I stand and face him, letting my features harden. “You asked me to say. And I’m staying. But you can’t command me to sit here and do nothing. Now let me help you like you helped me.”

I expect him to argue, to meet my will with his will, but instead he chuckles. 

“Fine, She-wolf,” he says, settling himself on the edge of the bed. “I will allow you to minister to me.”

I smirk. “Very wise of you.”

***

We sit by the fire, the warmth and crackle of the flames creating a cozy atmosphere in the cabin. The scent of the herbal remedies we've been preparing mingles with the smoke, filling the air with a comforting, earthy aroma. I watch Kalen carefully tend to the fire, his movements deliberate and precise. His back is to me, and his broad shoulders block the view of the flames, but I can see the way his muscles move beneath his shirt, the way his hands steady the logs as he arranges them.

But he’s been different since he came back in. He’s still reserved, careful, but when he catches my eye, the corner of his lip quirks upward in an almost-smile.

I’m his enemy. Being here is a death sentence. But instead of killing me, he saved me.

And somehow he knows I won’t kill him.

Suddenly I’m craving to know more about this man who was willing to risk his life for a stranger. "Tell me about your pack," I say, breaking the silence. "And this curse that haunts your bloodline."

He turns slightly, his eyes meeting mine, and for a moment, I see the hesitation there, the guardedness. But then he sighs, and he sits down next to me, his back against the wall, his head resting on his knees.

"The Nightshade pack," he says, his voice low, almost a whisper. "We've always been... different. Our offspring are the strongest, the most powerful, almost as if they are . . . Enhanced. But with that power comes a price."

I’m lulled by his words, and my eyes rove over him, imagining his . . . Enhancements. I tilt my head, my curiosity piqued. "What kind of price?"

He looks at me, and I see the pain in his eyes, the anguish. "A curse," he says. "One that has plagued my family for generations. Anyone who mates with a Nightshade wolf is doomed to die."

I blink, my mind reeling. "What? How? Why?"

He shakes his head. "It's something in our blood, something that taints us. My father tried to find a cure, but he . . . died before he could discover anything."

Astonishment doesn’t begin to describe my thoughts. “So you mate . . . Create the perfect offspring . . . And then your mate dies?”

He gives a slow nod, his expression still guarded. “Yes. That’s about right.”

My eyes narrow. Something in the way he says that makes me think there’s more to the story.

But it’s not my place to ask. “What will you do?”

He shakes his head. “I won’t take a mate. The curse dies with me.”

I suck in a breath, and I’m suddenly amazed at this wolf. Would I be willing to make such a sacrifice for my pack? I reach out, my fingers brushing his arm. "I'm sorry," I say. "That must be difficult, knowing you can't have a mate."

He shrugs, but I see the tension in his shoulders, the way his jaw tightens. "I don’t think about it. My focus is on my pack."

I drop my arm, my stomach tightening. “As you should. Your pack is everything.”

This time he’s the one who must hear something in my voice. He cocks his head. 

“Is it? Is your pack everything? Is that why they abandoned you near the border?”

“No,” I snap, suddenly defensive. Defensive of my pack, dammit. Why should I protect them? “I got myself there all by myself.”

He raises one eyebrow. “Did you have a death wish?”

My face flames, and I realize how stupid I’m acting. “I got turned around and didn’t know where I was,” I admit. “I was . . . Distracted.”

“A wolf? So distracted you missed the warning scents?”

My mind flashes back to that moment, and the only scents I was aware of were Ethan’s. His body, his mouth, his sex.

I won’t say that, though. “I had just been exiled.”