After Twilight

Part 3 Chapter Nine

Once at the cabin, Rick handed Stephanie a flannel shirt. "Change into this and climb into bed. Can I get you anything?"
She placed her hands on her hips. "This is silly. I told you, I feel better now. This isn't necessary."
He wouldn't take any arguments from her. "Would you like me to help you undress?"
A thoughtful pause followed. She sighed and snatched the shirt from him. "I should go back to my campsite and take a nap. I'm tired, that's all. That's why I became emotional earlier."
"You can nap here," he insisted. "In a real bed."
They had a stare-down. Rick wasn't giving in. Her recent behavior had upset him, but he didn't want to frighten her when he wasn't certain whether there was any real cause for concern.
"You know I don't like to be bullied," she finally said.
He touched her cheek gently. "I'm not bullying you. I'm concerned. You need rest, and I'm going to make sure you get it."
Her expression softened. "Okay. But only because you're right in this case."
Rick smiled at her. "I'm always right."
She rolled her eyes and turned away from him. "Don't let the door hit you on your way out."
Rick laughed and left the room. As soon as he closed the door, his smile faded. Stephanie was suffering all the symptoms he had suffered before he became a werewolf. Were all the things happening to her simply a coincidence? Could they all have a logical explanation? He didn't think so.
There weren't many explanations for people suddenly developing keen night vision. For a vegetarian to suddenly develop a taste for raw meat. Or for a woman who might not normally give him the time of day to fight primitive instincts to mate with him whenever she got within sniffing distance.
If he was responsible for changing Stephanie, changing her life forever, Rick didn't think he could deal with the guilt. She was a young, vibrant, beautiful woman. He couldn't stand to think of her as a monster. An animal like himself. A virtual recluse who had shut himself off from those he loved most. A man denied normal life in both worlds that claimed him.
Rick ran a hand through his hair, angry with her for intruding upon his territory, angry with himself for allowing even minimum contact with humans. Because of his own selfishness, he had not ruled out the possibility that he might bite someone.
"Rick?"
Stephanie's voice floated to him from behind the closed door. He walked over and eased it open. She'd slipped beneath the covers. The sight of her in his bed had the animal in him creeping to the surface. He fought it back and moved into the room.
"Do you need anything? A glass of water or?"
"No, I'm fine. I may borrow your shower again after I've rested, if that's all right."
He nodded, trying to ignore the steamy image of her naked and soapy. "Would you like me to wash your? clothes?"
She smiled. "Somehow, I never would have pictured you offering maid service. No." She glanced toward her clothing draped over the old rocker. "They were clean this morning."
"Fine." He needed to get away from her. That scent, the one that hovered just below the surface of her sweet natural fragrance, was about to drive him crazy. "I'll let you get some sleep then."
"Rick?" She stopped him, patting a place on the bed next to her. "Can we talk for a minute?"
He bit back a groan and walked to the bed. With more than a little trepidation, he sat beside her. "What's on your mind?"
She glanced up into his eyes. "I know you're not a medical doctor, but what do you think could be wrong with me? Fatigue might be responsible for my not noticing that I was eating your meal earlier, but what about last night? My vision has always been good, but I could see in the dark. I mean really see. And there was something else."
Rick started to feel sick to his stomach. "Something else?"
Despite her earlier claim of feeling better, tears filled her eyes. "I?I know this is going to sound crazy, but I thought I smelled that old woman. I had a sense that she was still close by, waiting for something to happen."
He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment, then opened them again, hoping she didn't see the panic rising inside him. "You're just tired. You need rest. We'll talk more about it later, all right?" He eased her down on the bed. She didn't argue.
"All right. I am tired," she mumbled, closing her eyes.
He settled the covers around her and stared down at her beautiful face. His excuses for Stephanie's increasingly strange behavior were wearing thin. He didn't want to face facts. He'd obviously bitten her the night she saved his life. His curse had now become her own. He had to save her. Do something?find a way to spare her from the same hell his own life had become. He thought he knew how, but he wanted to be certain.
He also thought he knew who could tell him the answer. After assuring himself that Stephanie slept soundly, he grabbed a jacket and left the cabin. He didn't get far before the wolves joined him. They moved in single file, as if on a hunt. He had a keen sense of smell, just as Stephanie had developed. He followed the old woman's trail easily. It led him to the abandoned shack on the road where he'd first spotted the old woman. He was surprised to see her sitting in front of the shack, as if she were waiting for him.
"Have you come to kill me?" she asked calmly.
A stab of guilt cut through him. Not long ago, his answer might have been different. "No. I've come to ask how to save her."
Her glassy eyes widened. She rose and walked toward him. "Today, I see more man than wolf in you. You have met a woman who has made you see the light. Understand that with love comes sacrifice."
"What do I have to do?" he demanded.
She eyed him sadly. "You already know the answer."
He glanced away from her. "I thought so. I wanted to make certain."
"Are you afraid?"
Oddly enough, he wasn't. "Only for her."
The touch of her leathery hand against his face startled him. "When I first saw you, I saw only the wolf hiding beneath your face. Now I look into your heart, into your soul, and I see they are both good."
Another fear plagued him. "Is there hope for my soul?"
"If you do what must be done, you can save your soul. For your sacrifice, you can be reborn."
"What does that mean?" he asked, confused.
She turned away from him. "Go home, wolf. Do what you must; then you will see."
"Who are you?"
The old woman paused, glancing over one humped shoulder. "No one of importance. An old gypsy who makes my living telling fortunes at county fairs. A wanderer who, at times, runs across an unnatural such as yourself."
"Then you've seen others like me?"
With a heavy sigh, she answered, "Yes. And some even more unnatural than you. I do what I can, and sometimes what I must to ease their suffering. But now I trust in you to see to your own fate, and to that of the woman you love. She has been your destiny from the beginning, and you hers."
Rick didn't know if he believed in destiny, but then there was little he couldn't believe in since he'd be-come a monster. He'd come to get verification of what he'd known he must do all along. He turned and walked away, feeling remarkably calm, almost at peace with himself. The answer was simple. All he had to do to save Stephanie was kill himself.
Darkness fell. Stephanie paced the small cabin. Where was Rick? She'd begun to worry about him?worry over the strange feelings the darkness brought with it of late. She felt restless, not quite herself beneath the skin. The walls were closing in on her. She needed to go out.
Wearing only Rick's oversized shirt, she walked outside. Stephanie drew in deep breaths of fresh air. She glanced up at the moon, surrounded by twinkling stars so close it seemed as if she might reach up and touch them. The moon wasn't full, but it was bright, and again she marveled at how well she saw the surrounding area.
Close by, a wolf howled. Did he call to a mate? She felt tempted to throw back her head and answer him. Instead, she rubbed her arms, the chill penetrating her body as well as her heart. There was nothing worse than being alone. Feeling empty inside because she had no family. No mate. No children. No one to turn to in times of sorrow, or in times of joy. She'd thought her heart couldn't withstand the pain of loving again. The truth she'd come to realize was that her heart needed to love again in order to heal.
Lifting her face to the wind, she caught Rick's scent. A moment later, she heard sounds of his approach. The slight snap of a stick, the fluttering of a leaf as he passed. Her pulse quickened. Other emotions gripped her. Need, hunger, desire.
Drawn to him, Stephanie walked out into the woods. His soft footsteps halted. He had caught her scent, as well. She sensed these things?also knew he battled his need for her. Would he fight or flee? Retreat or surrender?
She found him in a clearing a few feet away. He stood straight, rigid in the night. The moon bathed him in a soft glow. His hands were balled at his sides, his jaw clenched.
"You don't know what I am."
"I know that I want you," she said, then moved toward him. "That's enough for me. Enough for tonight."
As if her words, the very sight of her, caused him pain, he glanced away. She ached to be held by him, to feel his arms around her. Reaching out, she touched his face, forcing him to look at her.
"Don't you want me? Can't you give me one night?"
The light dancing in his eyes flared. "You deserve more than one night."
"I deserve you," she whispered. "We deserve each other."
Standing on her tiptoes, she pressed her lips against his. He didn't respond for a moment; then it was as if she'd opened the floodgates to his passion. He clutched her shoulders and pulled her close, his mouth moving over hers possessively. His tongue danced with hers, teasing, then delving deep. The chill faded?the night sounds drifted away. All she heard was the sound of their breathing. All she felt was his hands moving over her, down to the bottom of the shirt where he bunched it up around her waist.
She wore her bikini underwear beneath the shirt, but hadn't slipped on her bra. His hands moved higher, cupping her breasts, his thumbs brushing her sensitive nipples.
"I want to see you," he said. "All of you."
He unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off her shoulders. Stephanie realized she should be freezing, considering the temperature, but she wasn't. She stood before him wearing only the moonlight and her silky panties. He bent, placing soft kisses against her stomach before he eased her panties over her hips, kissing every inch of flesh he exposed.
Her fingernails bit into his shoulders. Despite his skillful attentions, she wanted to see him?touch him the way he touched her. She twisted her fingers in his hair and forced him up, their mouths meeting again while she unbuttoned his shirt. His skin felt smooth and warm beneath her touch. She shoved his shirt along with his jacket off his shoulders, allowing both to fall to the ground.
The sensation of skin against skin sharpened her desire for him. She wanted to feel all of him. Fumbling with his belt, she undid the buckle. His jeans were tighter than usual in the area of the zipper, but she managed to free him. His size impressed her. She wrapped her fingers around his sex. He sucked in his breath sharply, then rid himself of boots, socks, and all clothing that remained. When he stood before her naked, she could only stare, marvel at his perfection.
He was sleek, muscled, tall, and dark. She would have been content to stare at him longer, but he pulled her back into the warmth of his arms. His mouth sought hers, his hands roaming, teasing, pleasing. He found her greatest weaknesses, her most private secrets. His fingers stroked her gently, but her response was not tender. She wanted him to claim her?wanted to claim him in return. With that intention in mind, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to the dew-damp ground.
Rick wanted to love her gently, slowly, completely, but she drove him beyond rational thought. He allowed her to pull him down, then covered her beautiful body with his. Her long legs parted, inviting him inside. He went eagerly, gasping at the tight, hot feel of her as their bodies joined. She gasped, as well, and he realized he might be hurting her.
Man overcame beast, and for her, he gentled the wolf. He eased back, dipped his head to her full breasts, tracing the circles of her nipples with his tongue before taking them in turn inside his mouth. She moaned, her fingers twisting in his hair. He slid his hand between them, stroking her into readiness. Her hips arched and she took him deeper inside her, forcing a moan from his lips.
The sounds of their labored breathing echoed around them, and then the song began. A serenade from the wolves gathered on the distant bluffs. A song of celebration. The song they sang when one mate found another. Louder and louder the cries echoed around them, and harder and harder he strained, pumped, fighting for the control to wait for her. She was heaven, inside and out, perfectly made for him and him alone. Even as he felt the tremors of her approaching climax, saw her eyes glowing up at him, he realized that his surrender had been a mistake. Leaving was much easier when loving wasn't involved. But he did love her, had loved her from the beginning.
Her back arched, she cried out, sucking him down into the deep vortex of his own release. It was heaven, loving her, and it was hell, because he knew he had to let her go. Her arms crept around his neck; her mouth found his and drained the fight from him. As he surrendered to her again, dark whispers floated through his head. The selfish side of him suggested he could keep her. Could make her his and his alone. His mate. His lover. His monster.