chapter 7

William led her to the spare room, trying to keep his mind clear of the images it seemed determined to show him. Emily followed him around the space, politely nodding when he indicated the bathroom in the corner. He was not picturing her within the shower, naked and soapy.

He was not.

A sudden dry lump formed in his throat and he swallowed hard. With more speed than courtesy, he indicated fresh shirts in the drawer and left the room as quickly as possible. Being alone in a bedroom while not touching her was like torture, and he didn’t want to push his shaky control too far.

He closed the door behind him and found Paoli waiting in the hall, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “We need to talk,” Paoli said solemnly.

A glance toward Amber’s room showed a wind chime on the knob of the closed door. It was low-tech, but they’d hear the sound in a dead sleep.

Satisfied, William followed Paoli silently down the stairs and into the kitchen.

William settled into his favorite chair at the table and waited for Paoli to join him.

Paoli was never this quiet, so William braced himself for the worst. He watched Paoli heat two glasses of red liquid, and visibly gather himself for a conversation he clearly didn’t know how to begin.

William took the glass Paoli handed him with a nod of thanks and gave an impatient sigh. “Will you just come out with it?” He demanded shortly.

“I think we have a problem,” Paoli said finally. He walked back to the sink and leaned against the cabinet, facing William.

William just stared at him for a moment, then offered a questioning half-smile. “Do you mean other than the condemned woman now resting peacefully upstairs?”

“Yes. The problem is Emily,” Paoli said carefully. “Well,” he hesitated, his face looking torn by indecision. “Not a problem, exactly. From what I’ve read, it’s actually a good thing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, but I’m more concerned about the condemned woman we’re harboring instead of executing,” William cut in with a trace of sarcasm. He tipped his glass and drained half the contents in a single swallow.

Paoli watched him in silence, his expressive face still uncertain.

“Quit stalling, old man,” William prodded. When silence continued, he decided to put Paoli’s mind at ease. “If you’re worried about the Coven, rest assured. I’ll carry through with their orders like I always have if they decide the execution stands. I’d never let them have you. Surely you know that.”

Paoli gave him a pained smile. “I do know that, and I appreciate it. But my concern isn’t for me.” He took a deep breath and seemed to reach a decision at last. “As you know, I’ve been reading on werewolves tonight. I think I’ve come across something that might explain what’s happening between you and Emily.”

He turned and retrieved a heavy tome from the counter behind him, then walked over and sat it in front of William. It was a beautiful book with a hand-woven navy blue front cover. It was decorated with ancient magic symbols, long forgotten by all but a select few. Paoli opened the book with one hand and pointed out the section. “Here,” he said.

William leaned forward and read the yellowed pages of a book that looked old enough to have been scripted in the dark ages. Smelled it, too. He stared at the page for several minutes and felt the cold hand of dread grip him. “This can’t be right,” he said.

Paoli nodded slightly. “I knew what was happening as soon as I read it. She’s your mate, William.”

“No,” William said flatly. Stubbornly.

Paoli hesitated. “I don’t think you really get a choice,” he said. “According to this, your wolf will recognize her immediately and move in to claim her. I think that’s what happened in the cornfield tonight. Her scent got your wolf’s attention.”

William just scowled at him.

Paoli huffed in response. “How do you feel around her? Because here,” he pointed out a section, “it says the wolf’s mating drive will be triggered.”

Well, that was certainly one way to put it, William thought sardonically.

Paoli must have seen something on his face--which was unusual, since William had perfected the art of neutrality. Paoli pushed on doggedly. “See, according to this, it’s going to get worse, not better.”

“That’s only if she’s my mate,” William responded finally. “But it says here,” it was his turn to tap a section, “that both people involved will be werewolves in a mate situation. She’s human. She can’t be my mate.” He shrugged, as if that settled the matter. He was simply too long without having a woman and he was—well—amorous.

Paoli gave him an exasperated look. “You’re only half werewolf, so I’m going to guess your situation won’t necessarily follow the script,” he said with a hint of impatience.

William glowered at him.

“Well it’s true,” Paoli said defensively in response to William’s dark countenance. “Look,” Paoli sighed a moment later. “It says something in her will respond to your wolf if she’s your mate. So, test my theory. Take her in your arms. If she screams bloody murder, I’m wrong, and you have my apologies. If I’m right, she’ll melt like putty in your hands.”

William continued to remain silent, but the mental images those words brought up were not going to help his resolve to stay in control of his needs.

“If you don’t do it while the man in you is still in control, eventually the wolf will take over. It’s going to happen, either way,” Paoli insisted.

“I don’t care what your book says. I control the wolf, not the other way around,” William said.

He read the passage again, a little desperately. Sure enough, it didn’t say anything about a choice. But he couldn’t have a mate. He wasn’t a pure werewolf, and he was owned—owned—by the Coven. If he had a mate, they’d own her, too. He’d be helpless to protect her from them. Emily’s face flashed in his mind. He wouldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t force her to be enslaved. Besides, a wolf had already tried to change her sister—her twin sister—and the results were disastrous.

He groaned inwardly.

As if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, this new knowledge just made it worse. Every word in the book proved Paoli right, whether he wanted to admit it or not. It was the only thing that made sense. She was his mate. A mate he’d never even thought to hope for, and she was right here, in this very house. But he couldn’t have her. With a vicious growl, he shoved the book away and stalked from the room.

William lay wide awake in bed, hours later. His hands were tucked behind his head and he stared intently at the ceiling. His lack of knowledge was frustrating. He and Paoli had always been isolated from other immortals because William didn’t exactly fit anywhere in their world. That, and his job made him more-or-less the boogeyman of the immortals.

No one except Paoli was comfortable around him, which kept him set up as an outcast. He’d never considered the downside of it. Now he was faced with a wolf problem, and Paoli had no more knowledge or understanding than he did, since mates were specifically a wolf issue. His lack of basic knowledge had never been so blaringly obvious.

For over an hour he’d searched Paoli’s books before he tried the internet and read everything he could locate on the subject. There was precious little to be found. He needed to talk to a werewolf.

There was only one he knew well enough to ask about something so personal, but Empusa had become a guard to the Coven about a century ago. Since William was currently hedging orders from the Coven, calling Empusa was not a good idea. He wouldn’t put Empusa into a position to either lie or betray a trust.

William caught himself straining to hear sounds from the room on the other side of his bedroom wall. He groaned in frustration and sat up, too full of restless energy to be still. What he needed was a hunt to distract him. It was the end of the full moon cycle, and he could feel his wolf’s driving need to heed her call. Besides, it would do him good to head into the woods and find something he could sink his fangs into.

With the thought of fresh, dripping meat in mind, he padded on bare feet into the hall. He glanced at Emily’s door and paused, staring intently at it for several minutes. There was more than one way to rid himself of excess energy. Paoli’s suggestion came back into his mind and tempted him further. ‘Take her in your arms’, he’d said. William had never wanted anything more. But if he took her, there was no turning back. For either of them.

Still, the thought of her lying in bed, his oversized shirt hiked up to bare a glimpse of her rounded—he jerked his thoughts away. With a growl, he snapped his teeth together at the door and forced himself to leave the house.

As soon as his feet hit the front porch, he slid effortlessly into his wolf’s form, feeling his skin give way to different muscles, and the smooth slide of fur over him. He launched himself from the porch with his strong back legs and headed into the woods.

There was something so freeing about losing the mantle of humanity and letting the wolf have free reign. In wolf form, his mind remained intact, but changed in subtle ways. The concerns that weighed on him were as nothing. He was able to let the wolf instincts guide him and lose himself in the thrill of the hunt.

A deer ran somewhere ahead. He picked up on the scent and tracked it ruthlessly, his body held low and quiet. It took some time to locate the buck. The forest covered several acres, and the animal had clearly been there a long time, leaving scent trails in several different places. Finally, he spotted it, bent low over a spot of thick vegetation. Keen senses detected his presence too late. By the time the animal realized the danger, William had already brought it down and killed it, quickly and efficiently. Long fangs tore the carcass apart, and for a while, William lost himself in the aftermath of a fresh kill and the joy of the night.

When he eventually shifted back into human form, the first rays of dawn were pushing back the blanket of darkness. A new day was beginning. He stopped at the porch railing and watched the gray slowly fade away the shadows, wondering at the significance for the first time in many years.

It was a new day, indeed.

He made his way back upstairs with exhaustion riding him hard, took a quick shower to clean himself of the hunt, and lay down to sleep at last. Exhausted and sated, sleep came blissfully quick.