Vulfen Tracker's Bliss [Vulfen Cadre 6] (Siren Publishing Classic) Read online

  “Maybe,” she murmured. It was the last thing on her mind with her heart beating and her blood rushing.

  “Not maybe. Right now he is angry and hurt. He seems to think he has a right to you. Have you kissed him like you just kissed me, like you were branding him as yours?”

  Bliss shrugged uncomfortably but answered the question.

  “No.”

  “Then he is out of luck.” The man’s voice was implacable. “It will not happen for him now.”

  Jason nudged her leg with his foot and said, “Get up already. Geez.”

  Bliss moved to sit up but couldn’t get free of the arms like iron bands around her middle.

  “If you don’t mind?” she asked.

  “And if I do mind?”

  Bliss was startled until she saw the glint of humor in his eyes.

  “Okay, let me up.” She pushed harder, her hands naturally finding his hard pectorals. She wanted to squeeze and stroke, to take her time, but she pushed again instead.

  He frowned, but his grip loosened a fraction. A perverse sense of disappointment whispered down her spine. She had asked to be released, but it wasn’t close to what she wanted.

  Jason reached down to grab Bliss’s upper arm and she tensed. All of a sudden she was sitting on the grass alone and Jason was on his knees, one arm twisted behind his back by the tall muscular man she had just been kissing. She hadn’t even seen the movement.

  “You laid hands on her.” The cool tone did nothing to disguise the clear warning.

  Jason was whining and struggling, the tall man glaring but calm, and the difference between man and boy couldn’t have been clearer.

  Wow, I was just kissing that face, she thought, and could have kicked herself. She was glad the man couldn’t read her mind in that instant or he might think she was a moron.

  She scrambled to her feet.

  “You need to let him go now,” she began. “You could dislocate his shoulder if you apply any more pressure.”

  Her eyes tracked over his face. He didn’t seem to be angry, but she didn’t make the mistake of thinking Jason was safe. She had always thought of green as a warm color, but the man’s eyes were icy. It was clear that he would not back down.

  “He cannot move enough in this hold to harm his shoulder. He is free to go as soon as he apologizes for handling you when you clearly did not wish it.”

  Jason squirmed and twisted as much as he could but all he accomplished was to bunch his leather jacket up around his neck and mess up his wavy blond hair. When it became obvious he wouldn’t be able to free himself from the other man’s effortless hold, he flushed an angry crimson.

  “Sorry,” he mumbled with visible ill grace.

  Bliss waited.

  Sure enough, the man gave Jason a little shake.

  “Do you call that an apology?”

  When Jason didn’t respond, the hard hands tightened visibly. Bliss didn’t protest, but her stomach rolled at the look of pain on Jason’s face.

  “I’m sorry, Bliss,” Jason said. His tone was perfect, but the expression on his face was bitter.

  The man released his grip and Jason pulled back so hard he almost fell backward onto the grass. He stood up straight and puffed out his chest.

  Bliss watched with sympathy. She kept her attention on Jason, willing him to keep his mouth shut. She didn’t want him to get his arm ripped off or worse for insulting her because he was angry.

  She half expected Jason to say something nasty because he ran his mouth when he was angry, and she just knew that the man standing beside her would never tolerate that. His code of honor practically glinted in the sunlight, it was so obvious.

  When the man’s arm came around her, her heart lifted in excitement.

  “Let go of her. You’re not her boyfriend. Bliss doesn’t have a boyfriend. I would know.”

  Bliss stiffened but the arm around her tightened fractionally. She didn’t want the man believing that there was something between her and Jason, and not just because she didn’t want to see Jason killed today.

  Jason wouldn’t know anything. She wasn’t impressed with Jason and she turned him down whenever he asked her out. He might be the hottest guy on campus, but he had an arrogance about him that she didn’t like. He wasn’t her boyfriend and never would be.

  “Of course I am not her boyfriend.” That deep voice put a subtle emphasis on the word “boy.” “I am a man.”

  Bliss couldn’t suppress a shiver.

  He certainly was. Just standing beside him she could feel the heat pumping off his large, muscular body. It was all she could do not to turn her face up to his for one more delicious kiss. It was all she could think about, even with Jason standing there staring daggers at the man beside her.

  But she had a feeling that if she kissed him again, she would never want to stop. She would sink into his taste and forget the world of exams and responsibilities. He affected her in ways she had never experienced before.

  Jason threw his hands up in the air and stormed away.

  She leaned back against the man’s supporting arm and looked up into that tough guy face. A lock of dark hair fell down over his brow and her heart melted all over again.

  “What’s your name?” she asked dreamily and his eyes crinkled at the corners. He had to know he was beautiful.

  Jason swore behind her. He must have come back.

  “I knew it,” Jason blustered behind her while the man pulled her in for a tender kiss.

  It was long and ardent and her head was whirling gently by the time he raised his head.

  “Egan Reitn is my name. And your name is Bliss. It is the perfect description for the feeling you inspire in me.”

  Jason made a gagging noise in the background but Bliss didn’t care.

  Evidently Egan did care, however. He spared a moment to growl over her head at Jason, and Bliss swore she heard Jason gulp before she heard the sound of Jason’s feet stumbling then running away. Egan’s eyes were on hers again by then and she was mesmerized in spite of herself by the green color that seemed to shine faintly, though the sun was to his right.

  She didn’t laugh but she wanted to.

  “You deliberately scared Jason,” she accused then spoiled it by giggling.

  He looked as smug as a man could be.

  “It was all too easy. It is not permitted that he should touch you when you obviously did not want his touch or you would have long since asked for it. Why be subtle? It only leaves room for error on his part and that could get him killed.”

  She looked at his slight smirk and didn’t know whether to laugh outright or hit him with her book bag. Since she didn’t have the bag, she settled for stepping back out of his arms with as much of a frown as she could muster.

  It had no impact that she could see.

  He let her go without protest but snagged one of her hands and laced their fingers together. Some dim part of her mind knew she should stand firm and not hold hands with him. She was trying to make a point, but when he touched her she couldn’t remember what it was.

  And why cut off her nose to spite her face? She wanted her hand clasped snugly in his large one. It felt right. Nothing had ever felt so right before.

  She had no real reason to think it, but she felt like the safest person on campus when he was beside her and she had only known him for ten minutes. Some part of her knew that if he reacted so quickly to an insult that a true threat would be answered even more forcefully.

  She spied her bag, lying on its side a few feet away, and tugged him over so she could pick it up without letting go of him. He seemed willing enough to follow her.

  She tried to sling the bag over her shoulder, but he removed it from her hand and deftly swung it over his broad shoulder instead. The bag that weighed her down daily looked tiny on his back. He should have looked ridiculous with her pink Nike cinch bag over his shoulder, but he didn’t. He looked even more masculine, if that was possible.

  Bliss sighed. Her brain wa
s going to go on permanent vacation if she spent much time in his company. He was just too gorgeous to be believed.

  She sighed and headed down the walkway toward the bus stop, one gorgeous older man in tow.

  Chapter 3

  Egan stood watching the dusty bus pull away with his mate on board. He was letting her go, after a lengthy good-bye kiss that had him steaming, but it took all the self-control he could muster. In the middle of a busy campus, his wolf was straining to break free.

  His twin brother Balke, the perfect copy of his own face, skidded to a stop beside him, misjudged by a fraction of an inch, and bumped his elbow.

  “Where?” Balke asked, looking around. “Where is she? I came as soon as I felt the pull. I know you found her. Where is your mate?”

  Egan was fighting his wolf, who wanted nothing more than to run baying after the disappearing bus. He didn’t want to let his mate out of his sight, but he had to see to her safety first.

  “Balke, my mate may be in danger. I need your help.”

  Balke clasped Egan’s forearm in the way of a warrior.

  “Brother, I am with you.”

  “I knew your answer before I asked,” he said and his brother grinned and gripped his arm. “I appreciate it.”

  “Of course. We are brothers,” was all Balke said and Egan knew that for Balke, it was just that simple. He felt it, that flow of joy in the strength of his family bonds. He pulled his startled brother into a quick hard hug then clapped him on the back.

  “I thank you.”

  Balke nodded.

  “My mate is the younger sister of Ives’s new mate Maressa.”

  “Oh, the beautiful Bliss,” Balke said with a smile, and Egan stiffened involuntarily. Another male was admiring his newly discovered, unclaimed mate and it was hard to keep his claws from springing free, even with his own brother.

  “How is it that you know Bliss?”

  Balke laughed. “I stood guard outside Maressa’s home with Brax as my companion for two nights. It was several weeks ago.” He grimaced. “I have seen your mate a few times. She stays up too late studying but it does not affect her adversely. She seems to have plenty of energy bouncing out the door in the mornings for her daily walk. She always takes her camera and is a gifted photographer.”

  Egan swallowed hard and breathed deep against the hot rush of jealousy. He fought back the urge to bare his fangs at his brother. Through no fault of his own, Balke had been asked to take young Brax and do guard duty at the home of his undiscovered mate. Though Egan was grateful for the safety of his mate, he did not want any unmated male standing outside his mate’s home as she slept. That pleasure was for him alone.

  It wasn’t so much the presence of Balke that made his fangs drop, but the thought of Brax, so nearly the same age as the young woman who was his, performing this service for her.

  “Did Brax see Bliss at all?”

  “Yes, of course,” Balke said with a frown. “He did not speak to her or make any attempt to get close to her, if that’s what worries you. He is still very much intimidated by Ives, and rightly so.”

  Egan shrugged tightly. He was in the grip of an instinct so powerful that he didn’t know if he could retain his human form. His wolf wanted out to bite and claw.

  “Egan? I can feel your wolf. Your fangs have dropped.”

  Balke looked worried.

  Egan shoved his wolf back beneath his skin with a great effort, caging the uncontrollable hunger with steely determination. After a moment’s time, the urgency was still prominent, but manageable.

  “I am fine, brother. My wolf is ascending.”

  “Brother, I’m happy for you. But you must know, I am no threat to your mating.”

  Balke’s puzzled reassurance made him feel like an ass. His wolf subsided all at once and he could think again.

  “I apologize.” He tried to find the right words to explain but came up short. “My mate is young, in her early twenties, no older. Perhaps a younger male such as Brax would be more fun-loving, more suited to her needs than a hardened warrior of thirty-three winters. It is a valid concern.”

  Balke snorted.

  “It is not valid. Think, Egan. Brax is too young by far for such a wise young woman. She works hard, perhaps too hard, for her education. She has a great store of determination. And she is thoughtful, caring. She does much for their elderly aunt, who lives on the first floor of the house. She even keeps up the gardens, while Aunt Belle merely supervises. Brax is pretty enough and the females cater to him overmuch, but his immaturity would frustrate her, I think.”

  Egan leaned with one arm braced on a young tree beside the bus stop sign.

  “You are saying what I want to hear.”

  Balke shrugged.

  “Maybe it is what you want to hear, but that’s not why I’m saying it. You can feel what I am feeling, so you know I speak the truth as I see it. Brax would not be enough for one such as she. Who can say where he might be in ten years, but for now he has not grown into his dominance and such a determined young woman would not surrender to an insecure male. She would walk all over him in the attempt to make him into the man she needs. It would be a disaster for both.”

  Egan could feel it. He and Balke were twins, and both had their share of the mystical gifts passed down from their mother’s mother. He knew Balke spoke the truth, but he worried still that the truth for Balke would not be the truth for Bliss.

  He was taking a huge gamble, thinking that a student of healing would tie herself forever to a soldier who spilled blood almost on a daily basis. And if she did consent, and later came to regret their soul to soul bond, it would destroy him. He had never feared female rejection before, but with Bliss, it wasn’t his ego at stake, it was his life and soul.

  He had only known her a few hours, but if she ever left him and took that tiny glow of hope with her there would be nothing left of Egan Reitn.

  Balke threw an arm around his shoulder and steered him down the busy street in the direction the bus had taken.

  “Come, I will take you to her home, then we will meet with Ives to discuss this threat. You will feel more settled when you have seen her safe in her home.”

  Egan went along without protest. It was what he wanted anyway, and he was smart enough most days not to argue against his own interests.

  Chapter 4

  Bliss walked into the brightly lit kitchen, still humming a happy tune. Her lips still tingled from where the most gorgeous man she had ever seen in person had kissed her and the boring bus ride home had flown by due to her internal daze. She had relived those brief, heated moments a hundred times on the ride down Commonwealth. Yum.

  Aunt Belle was at the old stove stirring a fragrant steaming pot. Bliss sniffed appreciatively.

  “Mmm, homemade chicken soup?”

  Aunt Belle turned around and gestured to the cabinet with a frail hand.

  “Hello, dear. Set the table, would you please? Maressa got called in to work tonight because one of the girls went home sick and Todd says the place is hopping. He’s beside himself. It’s just you and I for dinner.”

  Bliss propped her bag against the wall and went to set the table. The familiar task took little thought and passed in a pleasant state of remembrance.

  She sliced thick slabs of Maressa’s fresh baked bread, then dished up bowls of hot soup and carried them to the little round table. Aunt Belle sat with a sigh.

  “Are you all right?” Bliss asked.

  Aunt Belle smiled. “Yes, of course. I’m just tired.”

  Her blue-veined hand shook as she brushed back her fine white hair.

  “Aunt Belle, you work too hard. You shouldn’t—”

  “Blissy,” she interrupted, pinning Bliss with narrowed eyes, “I’m an old woman, and some days I’m going to feel tired. I’m not going to stop making the occasional lunch or batch of cookies here and there. I’m not going to stop sweeping my front porch if the situation calls for it. I’ve had a great life. I’m still havi
ng it.”

  Bliss went around the table and dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms around Aunt Belle and hugged her. Since their arrival in Boston several years before, the elderly woman had been a constant in her life, a friend who became as well-loved and valued as a family member could be.

  Aunt Belle patted her back. The tapping was so gentle it felt like butterfly wings. Bliss swallowed against the tightness of her throat.

  “There, there. Don’t fret, Blissy. There’s nothing sad in this. And there’s nothing that modern science can do to make an old woman young again.” Belle’s laugh sounded like the wind rustling old newspaper, rueful but genuine. “I’m not sure I even want to be young again and have to start all over. Sometimes I think of it and I worry for the children born today. The world now isn’t the world I knew, Bliss. Everything changes.”

  Bliss fought the tears that wanted to flow when she felt the feather-light brush of lips against her brow.

  “I’m not sad so don’t you be. I’m happy here with you and Maressa right upstairs. Like the daughters I never had. Such good girls, both of you. You make me proud. And when Maressa leaves to move in with her young man, you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

  Bliss pulled herself together and stood. She took her seat, and picked up her spoon but just stared unseeing into the bowl.

  Maressa hadn’t said much about it, but Bliss had been able to feel that her sister was thinking. It was inevitable that, with planning a Christmas wedding, her sister would then move in with her new husband. She more than deserved some happiness, and Ives was a good man.

  Better even, he was good for Maressa.

  It was only that they had been together, two sisters against the world for so long, that Bliss didn’t quite know how to plan her future without Maressa. She felt like she was speeding toward a future she wasn’t sure she wanted if she was going to be spending it alone. She understood that Maressa would never abandon her, but the knowledge didn’t calm the underlying anxiety. The stress of midterms didn’t help either. November was a bad month for students anyway.