“There have been documented case studies of people who have psychic abilities and can do or see all sorts of things they shouldn’t be able to,” she said. “Some can predict the future, read an object to see the past, move items with their minds, find missing people. You name it. But you’re asking me to believe you can change forms? I’m sorry, Ryon. You’re delusional.”
“I expected you to react like that,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment. “I can’t blame you. But I can prove it.”
“You can change into a wolf, here and now.” Her tone was flat.
“Yes.”
She flicked her good hand at him. “Okay, so do it.”
“I don’t think so. Not yet.”
Some of the hardness left her expression, and her tone became kind. “Have you sought help for this fantasy? There are some really good doctors who can treat that sort of thing.”
He stood. “I don’t need a doctor. Not for being delusional, anyway. I’m going to let you rest because you have a lot to take in, and this is enough for the time being.”
“Will you be back?”
She sounded hopeful, and that eased some of his anxiety—and his wolf’s. But not all. The beast paced inside him, not happy at being doubted. It was much too close to rejection.
“Yeah.” Leaning over, he kissed her cheek, then straightened. “I’ll be back soon, no worries. Sleep.”
“All right, I’ll try.” She didn’t look convinced, though.
Giving her a reassuring smile, he turned and walked out while he still had the strength to leave. He’d pushed far enough, and her scientist’s mind needed precious time to absorb the truth of his words. She wasn’t ready to see him change into his wolf, but she would be. As a biologist, and his mate, though she didn’t know that part yet, she wouldn’t be able to help her curiosity. She would continue to be drawn to him.
He hoped.
Leaving the infirmary, he headed for Nick’s office. The door was cracked when he got there, and he heard his commander inside, talking. Guessing the door wouldn’t be open if the boss didn’t want to be disturbed, he knocked lightly and waited.
“Come in.”
Pushing inside, he saw Nick sitting behind his desk, Sheriff Deveraux reclining in a chair across from him. Deveraux was about Nick’s age, and Ryon supposed women would find him good-looking in a rugged, outdoorsy way. Ryon stuck his hand out to the visitor.
“Sheriff,” he said politely. “I’ve seen you a couple of times, but we’ve never been introduced. I’m Ryon Hunter.”
The other man grasped it briefly, his gaze sharp but not unkind. “You’re part of the Alpha Pack that Nick has been telling me about?”
Ryon looked at his boss, who gave a slight nod. The sheriff had been unwittingly pulled into the Sluaghs’ attack on a local family several weeks ago, and rudely made aware that the paranormal really existed. Since then, the commander had obviously been easing the lawman into their world, and so it was okay to talk freely in front of him.
“Yes, I am. I don’t mean to interrupt, but I just came from visiting Daria, and I thought Nick would like to hear what she said about yesterday’s events. You too, Sheriff, since you’re here.”
They listened intently as he described the great screeching noise Daria heard, and how it frightened her into breaking camp. If they’d expected Ryon to tell them that the culprit who chased her from the scene of the body and pushed her over the ledge was a Sluagh, or some previously unheard-of creature, they were wrong.
“It was a white wolf?” Nick repeated, going still. “She’s certain?”
Ryon rolled his eyes. “Of course she’s sure. She’s got a broken arm, not brain damage. On top of that, she says the wolf is female.”
The commander’s face paled, and he stared at the top of his desk. “I haven’t had any visions at all about any of this, just a sense of wrongness. Danger. I’m not sure what any of it means, and I’m hesitant to guess.”
“But you do have one,” Deveraux pressed.
Nick sighed. “I don’t think the wolf is responsible for the killing, but we won’t know for sure until Kira and Melina finish testing that DNA sample of the victim they liberated from the crime scene.”
“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” The sheriff scowled.
“No offense, Jesse, but I have a hunch your medical examiner is going to come up with some very strange findings on that body and isn’t going to know what to make of them. Which is for the best. But my lab people will know what the results indicate, or at least have a good head start.”
“You might be right, but I don’t like it,” the man muttered. “You’ll keep me in the loop.”
“You bet.”
Mollified somewhat, the sheriff stood to leave. “Nothing to do for now but wait and see. Search and Rescue is still looking for the couple that vanished—or the husband at least. I’m betting the mutilated woman is the wife.”
“You’re probably right.”
Deveraux shook hands with both of them again, and then saw himself out. Ryon waited until the lawman was gone before he spoke.
“You sure we can trust him?”
“Absolutely,” Nick said. His mouth curved into a wry smile. “He’s so old-school, all this paranormal stuff is about to burst a blood vessel in his brain, but he’s a good man. He’s on our side, for all the bitching he does.”
“Good to know.”
“How’s Daria?”
“Unsettled,” he admitted. “Just because she has a Psy gift that she acknowledges doesn’t mean she’s ready to accept that we’re shifters or that other creatures exist. She wanted me to change and prove I’m a wolf, but I could tell she wasn’t really ready for that. I don’t want her to push me away.”
“She’s had enough to deal with,” Nick agreed. “You did the right thing giving her some time.”
“Thanks.”
“But don’t take too long to tell her the rest. It’s a delicate balance between giving her time to adjust and coming across as though you were hiding the truth.”
“Yeah, I know.” Hanging his head, he studied his shoes. He was so damned tired, his body still healing, and yet he hadn’t been able to rest for worrying about her.
“You’re about to fall over. Go crash for a while, or you’re not going to be any good to the team or your mate.”
“I think I’ll do that.”
He’d try, anyway. Back in his quarters, he tossed on the bed and fantasized about a striking, raven-haired woman who might not want a thing to do with him. He thought only of kissing those plump lips, caressing toned, soft, honey brown skin. His lids grew heavy and yearnings followed him into his dreams where she tormented him endlessly, leading him to the edge, so in danger of falling. Only to pull back and leave him hurt, confused.
God, her lips were soft. His tongue slipped inside and he explored her mouth, groaning at her sweet taste. His fingers dipped into the swell between her breasts and stroked the creamy mounds. Sought lower, skimming down her flat stomach . . . until she caught his hand.
“Ryon.”
“Baby, please. I need you.”
“I can’t.” She shook her head.
“Why not?” Pulling back, he studied her expression. He saw fear, confusion. Not the ideal emotions to inspire in his mate.
“This is too soon,” she said softly. “I don’t know how I feel about this. About whether there’s an us.”
His wolf howled inside and a bubble of panic lodged in his throat. “Of course there is. Don’t you feel something growing between us?” he asked hoarsely. “I already care about you, Daria.”
She shook her head. “I cared about someone else not too long ago, and he broke my heart. I thought what he and I had was real, but it wasn’t. How can I trust again?”