Fear the Heart (Werelock Evolution Book 2) Read online

  “I’ll take her,” Alex’s baritone insisted.

  “No. Kai will take her,” Alcaeus said. “You and I aren’t finished here. Kai needs to do another blood draw anyway.”

  “She doesn’t like needles!” Alex whisper-shouted in retort. “Why do you need another blood draw? We already know what’s happening to her blood. And if you’re controlling her shift you should be paying attention enough to know what stage she’s at.”

  “God, you are so fucking predictable,” Remy complained.

  “Just let me take her,” Alessandra petitioned, sounding annoyed. “I’ve already got her.”

  “No, Lessa, give her to Kai,” Alcaeus ordered. “I’m placing Kai and Lupe in charge of her for the next few days, just in case the temptation gets too dicey and I need to bail.”

  Multiple whispered protests immediately followed that announcement.

  “Are you an idiot?” Alessandra balked. “With her cycle starting? What the fuck is Lupe going to do to protect her if any of the guards lose their heads? I should be the one to stay with her.”

  Cycle? Protection?

  Alcaeus laughed. “You’d be surprised what Lupe is capable of. And Kai needs the sparring practice.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “No,” Alex seethed, “there is absolutely no way I will permit Kai to stay here with her! Lessa and I should be the ones to care for her.”

  “Too bad, ’cause Kai and Lupe it is,” Alcaeus rejoined flatly. “And you won’t be coming anywhere within fifty yards of her.”

  “Alex, just shut up and be thankful Alcaeus isn’t planning to stay with her,” Remy said. “She’ll be safe with Kai. I’ve never once sensed him direct even a hint of lustful energy her way.”

  “Because he has no lustful energy,” Alessandra snarked.

  “You’re quite the royal bitch today, aren’t you?” Remy commented.

  “Raul is on his way to Gabriel Salvatella! How could I not be upset?”

  “Fucking quit your bickering before I put the lot of you in a forced time-out,” Alcaeus threatened. “We have no way of even knowing yet how intense this first cycle will be, since she’s not fully changed. The new female doctor will be able to tell us more after she examines her tomorrow.”

  Were they … were they talking about my period? No … no, there was no way. I was clearly out of it.

  “I can assure you, it’s going to be relatively intense for her, regardless,” Kai said. “We should just tell her now so she has more time to prepare herself. It’s asinine to wait for Bianca to arrive in order to tell her what I already know.”

  It was requiring far too much effort to remain awake, much less decipher what they were going on about. Weird and inconceivable as it was that they would ever be discussing my menstrual cycle in the first place, I also knew I wasn’t due to start my period for at least another two weeks. I concluded they had to be referring to some cycle of my werewolf transformation as I dozed off to the sound of them squabbling over who would carry me upstairs to Alcaeus’ guest bedroom.

  ***

  When I next awoke from my deep and dreamless sleep, the sun was shining brightly through the windows of the upstairs bedroom I found myself in. Groggily, I rolled to my side atop the King-size bed, only to gasp as I came face-to-face with Kai, peacefully sleeping right next to me.

  At my inhale, he startled awake, and in the blink of a growl he was on top of me, straddling my waist and pinning my wrists above my head against the mattress, his feral eyes glowing their iridescent blue.

  My heart leapt into my throat, all but choking any sleepy words of protest I might’ve uttered as I stared bug-eyed up at him. His face was flushed, his teeth were bared, and a vein bulged along the midline of his forehead as he growled down at me.

  “Kai?” I finally managed to puff, my chest heaving.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head sharply. “Fuck,” he panted, then growled—louder than before.

  Then he was gone, leaping gracefully off of me and exiting the bedroom without a backward glance.

  Wow. That was weird. And … something else, perhaps?

  I shook my own head and was rubbing the sleep from my eyes when Guadalupe knocked on the open door frame and asked if she could come in.

  “’Course!” I eagerly waved her inside the bedroom.

  Her green eyes were gleaming with delight and a certain spark of mischief as she glided over and plopped down onto the side of the bed. “You sleep well?” she inquired.

  I nodded, eyeing her warily. She looked like the proverbial cat that ate the canary. Something was up. “What?”

  “Nothing.” She shrugged, her smile stretching ever wider.

  I rolled my eyes, deciding directness was the only way to proceed with her. “Did you just see Kai?”

  “Mm-hmm,” she squeaked, clasping a hand over her mouth to contain the instantaneous attack of giggles that ensued.

  “What?”

  She shook her head, her eyes tearing up as she struggled to suppress wheezing laughter behind both hands.

  “What is so funny? Is Kai okay?”

  For some reason that question made her cackle outright. She shook her head as laughter overtook her.

  “What the heck is going on?”

  Glancing at the open door, she managed to squeak out that she couldn’t tell me now, and proceeded to relay in between giggles that until my belongings could be retrieved from the main house, she had left some of her daughter’s clothes in my bathroom for me to use in the meantime if I wanted to shower and change. She informed me that Alcaeus would be out of the house for most of the day, but that she would be around if I needed anything. Then she excused herself and practically ran from the room, still laughing.

  My eyes flew to the ceiling at the insanity of it all before I threw the bedcovers aside and headed to the bathroom. A shower sounded like an excellent idea. I was elated to find a new toothbrush, along with all manner of toiletries, waiting for me next to the clothing Guadalupe had laid out. While not as opulent as Alex’s bathroom, the adjoining guest bathroom was indeed luxurious, boasting a large glass shower as well as a sizeable sunken Jacuzzi tub. I yearned to try both, but opted for the shower, my innate pragmatism winning out.

  When I emerged from the bathroom after my shower, clad in a fresh pair of borrowed shorts and a T-shirt, I found Kai waiting for me, his medical bag and various equipment laid out on the bed, which had been made. He seemed nervous as he very politely asked if I would allow him to perform another blood draw for analysis purposes.

  I agreed and went to sit on the edge of the bed. As he stood and leaned over me, prepping the needle and my arm, I watched him work, noting he was still wearing the same white T-shirt as before, but that he had traded his shorts for jeans. He looked good in jeans. He looked good in a white tee.

  Wait … Why was I thinking such things?

  His warm fingers closed around my wrist as he repositioned my arm, and I blushed as I recalled the sensation of his hands pinning my wrists above my head, the weight and force of his muscular thighs straddling my midsection …

  My face was beet red and I was breathing heavily as he lifted his soft brown eyes from my arm.

  “Milena?”

  His tone was gentle, yet firm, serious, yet … intimate. I bit my lip. How had I not adequately noticed it before? Kai wasn’t just good-looking, he was unmistakably hot! And the way he was studying me now left me feeling like I needed to take another shower … a cold one. I swallowed hard.

  “Milena?”

  He had great lips, too.

  “Y-yeah?”

  “I’m sorry about my behavior earlier.”

  I forced myself to cease staring at his mouth and look him in the eyes. “I didn’t mind.”

  Oh, hol-y Mother Mary! Had I just said that aloud?

  “I didn’t mean to react the way I did,” he continued. “I didn’t even mean to fall asleep next to you like that. I just … haven’t slept very much in
the last week, I suppose.”

  He definitely hadn’t, it occurred to me, remembering how he had spent days sitting up by my bedside at Alex’s house during my first recovery, and then watching over me alongside Alex throughout most of my second. And of course, he’d mentioned earlier in the garden that he had been up all night analyzing my blood.

  “It’s okay,” I assured him. “It was my fault for startling you.”

  His lips curved into the feeblest hint of a smile. “I guess I’m just not used to sleeping with anyone.”

  Oh, Lordy! Had he really just said that out loud?

  “I mean … it won’t happen again,” he amended.

  We were both silent as he drew my blood, filling three small vials. For once I barely noticed the needle piercing my arm, as I was too distracted by the confusing tightening sensation in my lower belly that his smell and presence was causing.

  “So you’re not mated?” I cringed as I heard myself blurt nearly the same mortifying question I had asked of Kaleb. If anything, it was even more inappropriate to be asking it of Kai under the present circumstances.

  He didn’t answer or even acknowledge my question as he proceeded to remove the needle from my arm and apply pressure to the point where it had pierced my vein. At first I thought perhaps he hadn’t heard me, or that he’d chosen to purposely ignore the question altogether, but then he replied with an emotionless, “It’s complicated.”

  I was on the brink of stammering an apology for prying when he released the pressure on my vein, removed the gauze pad, dipped his head and briefly swept his hot tongue over the underside of my elbow. Twice.

  And I just about soaked my borrowed knickers.

  Although he had done it in his detached, doctorly manner, as if he were administering a strictly clinical procedure, it wasn’t lost on me that whatever tiny pinprick there may have been from my blood draw had long since healed over due to my newly improved healing capabilities, making his little tongue treatment completely unnecessary.

  And it was that knowledge that had me instantly wet. Kai had wanted to lick me. Oh, my God!

  I was struggling to breathe as he raised his head from my arm. His hooded, dilated eyes roved my features, and my stomach somersaulted. My lips parted, my thighs clenched. What the hell was happening? Holy hell, were we about to make out?

  But then he drew back and looked away from me, rising up to his full height. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. “Fuck me,” he murmured.

  He took several deep breaths, breathing through his mouth, before kneeling in front of me on the floor. He leaned in, but didn’t look at me as he pulled the collar of his white T-shirt to the side, craning his neck in order to reveal a crescent-shaped scar at the juncture of his throat and shoulder. When he spoke, his words were stiff, clipped.

  “I was mated,” he confessed. “My wife … she died.” His tone was hollow. Empty. “I didn’t.”

  I was dumbstruck by his most unexpected revelation. I stared mutely at the marking on his neck.

  “I should have died.” His features hardened with such deep, impenetrable anger, he was almost unrecognizable as the stoic doctor I’d come to know. He released his collar and relaxed his neck, turning his head back in my direction but not meeting my eyes.

  He swallowed before expounding, “She and I were what our kind consider to be ‘true mates.’ I should have died soon after she did.”

  I could hear the self-loathing in his voice, smell the bitterness he clung to. But worst of all was his unbearable longing. It was palpable. And I knew without question he had wanted to die. Perhaps he still did?

  “I’m so sorry. When did she …? How … how long ago?”

  “It’s been ninety-eight years, three months, and fourteen days since she passed,” he answered seamlessly.

  Wow. “I’m … so sorry. You … you really loved her,” I assessed inanely, finding myself at a loss for what to say.

  “I still love her.” His eyes returned to mine, hard and unflinching. “I will only ever love her.”

  I gulped. “I’m sorry,” I repeated like a mantra, “so sorry …”

  He seemed to snap out of it then, his mien of anger and resentment finally cracking, giving way to his usual countenance of stoicism.

  “Don’t”—he sighed—“don’t apologize. We all have our curses to bear. I shouldn’t be burdening you with mine.”

  “Do you … uh … know why? Why you survived the loss of your mate when most other werewolves don’t?” It was a horridly insensitive question to ask, but given my potential mate situation with Alex, I had to know.

  “Not most,” he corrected, “all other werewolves don’t. And no. No one knows why. I’m the great anomaly of our mated species. A freak of nature, as Lessa put it.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  He shrugged. “I’m hardly normal.”

  “Maybe you’re better than normal?”

  He smiled weakly, but his eyes were still sad. Empty. I realized now that they had always been empty. While his physical body might have endured, clearly a part of Kai had died with his mate.

  “You’re a sweet girl, Milena.” I felt his warm, dry palm land atop my bare knee. “Don’t let the blood curse change you. Hold onto your humanity.”

  I didn’t understand what he meant by that, but by the time I’d regained my bearings enough to request clarification, he’d already collected his things and left.

  As I replayed our interaction in my head, I wondered what in the world had gotten into me. I’d been a breath away from throwing myself at Kai before he’d doused the flames of my wantonness by bringing up his dead wife! What had I been thinking?

  And why in God’s name was I suddenly feeling so horny?

  ***

  I moped around Alcaeus’ house for a bit, searching from room to room until I found Guadalupe in an upstairs sitting room, crying her eyes out watching episodes of Avenida Brasil on DVD. She explained it was the story of a girl seeking revenge on her mother for abandoning her as a child to live in a landfill. She was quick to point out it was also a love story, though, as the girl had met the hunky love of her life in said landfill.

  Hmm. I’d barely grasped the plot lines of the few American soap operas I’d ever attempted to watch. This one sounded well over my head.

  When I asked her if I might help out with anything around the house, she said I could help by eating lunch with her just as soon as the episode she was watching was over.

  As the Brazilian soap opera played out on the small screen in front of me, I saw none of it, my mind drifting to thoughts of Alex, wondering where he was and what he was doing. I couldn’t smell him anywhere in the house. I kept picturing him in my memory as he’d looked in Alcaeus’ study when he’d gently encouraged me to throw him through more walls. My she-wolf had found that particular offer of his terribly romantic.

  I was so fucked.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I ate steak for lunch, resigned to the fact my days as a vegetarian were over. Guadalupe and I sat across from one another in a little dining room off the kitchen. While we ate, I asked her about the Rogue Missions in America Alcaeus had mentioned earlier that both Mateus and Raul had apparently taken part in. I got the sense those missions were critically important to Alcaeus and the others for some reason. Unfortunately, I’d fallen asleep before I could glean what they were about.

  Guadalupe explained that rogue werewolves were considered an unnatural, defective form of the species. She claimed they were unruly creatures, incapable of assimilating and adapting to the pack law other werewolves lived and survived by. They were the ultimate of loners and discards. Supernatural outcasts.

  “They lack obedience. They have no innate drive to belong or seek acceptance from a pack.”

  “Sounds like a good quality, given the circumstances,” I muttered. “I think I’ll be a rogue.” Turning into a dog was one thing. No way was I joining a Cujo pack.

  She
snorted and bobbed her head. “You’re thinking like a human still. Wait. Your needs will change.”

  “I very much doubt that.”

  She shrugged. “I look forward to saying, ‘told you so.’ You won’t be a rogue, Miles. And you wouldn’t want to be one. Theirs is not a happy existence.”

  “Can’t be worse than being mated to Alex,” I grumbled over the steak in my mouth.

  “That I might agree with,” she said with a solemn nod of acknowledgement that was not at all reassuring. “But all rogue werewolves eventually go insane and self-destruct. And when they do”—she paused, her eyes abandoning focus—“they do terrible things,” she finished quietly.

  She looked lost in her own thoughts. A quick shudder ran through her small frame as I asked, “Why do they go mad?”

  The green eyes that returned to me were blank. Her tone was equally emotionless as she told me, “Even though they have a lesser need to belong, they still crave some basic level of connection. Ultimately, they go mad without it.”

  I was almost afraid to ask. “So … what happens on the Rogue Missions?”

  “They track down reported rogue werewolves, kill them, and eliminate all loose ends related to their existence and destructive behavior.” She said this as if she were reporting on the weather, and proceeded to cut into her steak.

  My jaw found the tabletop.

  “Every pack does it, Miles.” She raised a cynical brow along with her shoulders. “It’s not a practice exclusive to the Reinoso clan.”

  I lost what was left of my appetite as she went on to relay that because rogues were viewed as possessing the potential to expose and endanger all other werewolves through their unpredictable and uncontrollable behavior, they were routinely, systematically snuffed out across the globe by all werewolf packs in the name of preserving the status quo and upholding the greater good.

  “But if every werewolf and werelock pack does it, why would Alcaeus worry about the Rogue Mission being compromised by Raul’s alleged defection? Why would he care about that information being shared with the Salvatella clan?”