She opened her journal and wrote, ruthlessly recording everything that had happened since she left for town that morning, leaving herself no escape. Except the one Kieran had given her.
It was late when she finished. She stared down at her own words. The pen slid out of her nerveless fingers. She closed the journal and sat on the bed until she felt almost calm, almost normal. She noted that it was already getting dark outside; through force of habit she refilled the stove and began heating a can of soup in the kitchen.
She looked out the window only once. The woods seemed darker, more alien and impenetrable than she had ever seen them. Very much like her own heart.
Where are you, Kieran?
She wondered if she’d ever have the courage to find out.
* * *
The stalking began.
He tracked Alexandra, virgin snow sweet as spring grass under his feet. The woods grew silent at his passing, for every creature knew he was on the hunt.
She was close, very close; soon he would find her. Every one of his senses was alive, pulsing with joy; this time when he found her she would be his. Only his.
Her footprints seared the ground with her scent. Excitement stirred his loins; he could already imagine what it would be like when she was beneath him, nothing between them but passion.
He imagined her naked. Sweet curves and full, firm breasts, rounded thighs opening for him, the scent and taste of her arousal. She would gasp and writhe as he marked her for his own…
“Kieran!” she cried. Just beyond the next cluster of trees, laughing, hiding. She wanted him. Her voice held a world of invitation, of yearning. His heart drove the blood through his body in time to the rhythm of his running feet.
She was where he knew she would be, no longer trying to run. Her skin was flushed, her eyes bright; she flung back her hair and laughed again.
“Catch me, Kieran,” she said. “If you catch me, I’m yours.”
And so he did. He sprang, one long clean leap, and trapped her in his arms. She put up a mock struggle, flailing with fists as her breasts pushed against his ribs. The gentle indentation between her thighs rubbed his arousal again and again.
He wanted her. He needed to be inside her. After that nothing could separate them, nothing keep them apart.
My mate, he thought fiercely. Mine. And while she hesitated, he captured her mouth.
It was like before, only now she welcomed him. Just as she had promised. Her promise was solid, certain, as real as the ground they stood on. Her lips parted, invited his tongue to explore and caress. She tasted of flowers and honey and sweet, clear water.
Kieran’s body responded, growing hard and tight. Lust, unashamed and overwhelming, coursed along with his blood. Need and desire spun into a hot core of emotion more powerful than any he had ever known. As Alexandra laced her fingers through his hair, he felt the shifting begin.
His mind would not acknowledge the threat. Even when his fingers cramped and his jaw ached with the incipient change, he refused to accept. He thrust his tongue into Alexandra’s mouth, thinking only of thrusting elsewhere.
Until she stiffened in his arms, and he saw himself reflected in the wide blue of her eyes.
The face he saw was hideous. His face. He raised his hand from her shoulder and found it coated with coarse, dark hair.
Neither man nor beast. A monster…
No! He tried to make the sound, and it emerged as a grotesque howl.
Alexandra screamed. She staggered back, and ran with the wild abandon of terror.
“Alexandra!” His mouth was awkward, as if even his lips didn’t dare form her name. “You accepted me—”
But still she ran. Straight into the arms of another, a tall and pale-eyed man who shone with golden perfection.
A human being, as Kieran was not. Peter. He opened his arms and swung her up into them. Their lips met. And the desire in Kieran’s heart burned to ashes.
The Voice howled in his mind: What did you expect?