Read Online Dark Wolf Unbound (Heart of the Shifter #2) by Stephanie Rowe - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Stephanie Rowe
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much at stake, and yet she couldn't tear her gaze off his. Her entire body seemed to be wound into a tight knot of fire and heat, held in abeyance by the barest thread of self-control.
His gaze went to her mouth, then snapped back up to her face almost instantly, but the heat continued to rise from his body. "We're not safe here," he said, his low voice wrapping around her like an invisible caress. "Drive us out of here."
She swallowed, knowing it must be making him crazy that his injured ankle kept him from driving. "You can't heal your ankle on your own."
"I'm fine—"
"And I'm worried about my bite," she blurted out.
His gaze went to her throat, his brow furrowing as he inspected it. He still hadn't retreated, his body pressing her into the seat. "It's not deep—"
"It's not my first one from him." It was almost impossible for someone to become a shifter just from being bitten by one. But repeated, grievous injury from the same wolf was a different story, with the potential to turn the human into a shifter. Not all females with one shifter parent inherited the ability to shift. When it became apparent that she was one of those failures, Grigori had ordered Lucius to turn her into one by biting her repeatedly until the wolf proteins built up in her blood. She'd fought it desperately, because a bitten shifter always became a half-crazed werewolf, unable to contain their bloodlust. Those shifters were the ones that horrors of werewolf lore were founded upon.
His face darkened. " What ?" His voice was clipped, taut with fury.
Crud. She hadn't meant to tell him. She didn't need his sympathy. All she wanted was to get out of the SUV and find Kiernan, praying that he would help. "Nothing. I just—"
His gaze went to her stomach, and she realized she'd pressed her hand over her old wounds. She winced as understanding flashed across his face. Damn him for being perceptive.
Scowling, he grasped the waistband of her shirt and started to pull it up.
She grabbed his wrist, holding his hand down, panic rippling through her. "No, don't."
No one ever got to see her stomach, and the last thing she could endure was Jace being the first one to see her truth.
----
J ace froze at the sudden fear in Abby's eyes when he grasped the hem of her shirt.
Her face had paled, and her grip on his wrist was desperate. Her fingernails were digging into his skin. Swearing under his breath, he went still, trying not to threaten her. She looked so vulnerable that his alpha protective instincts surged to the surface. He would not hurt her. He had to keep her safe. "Let me see," he said, keeping his voice gentle, letting her hear the strength he was offering her.
She shook her head. "No." She dismissed him quickly. "It's fine—"
"Abby. This is my world. I need to know." Foreboding was pressing heavily at him, the certainty that something was very wrong, that she'd been hiding so much from him. "Let me see," he said again.
Her eyes narrowed. "You're a persistent pain in the ass."
He grinned. "Yeah, I am."
"Fine, but only because I don't want to listen to your harassment for the next hour." She glared at him one more time, then she bit her lower lip and let her fingers slide off his wrist. Her bravado faded into vulnerability as she clasped her hands on top of her head and stared out the windshield, avoiding eye contact with him.
His heart softened at her stoic resignation, and he touched her jaw lightly to reassure her and connect them. The moment his fingers brushed over her skin, he went still, shocked by how soft her skin was. So fragile, so smooth, so delicate. Fierce protectiveness roared through him, a need to draw her into his inner circle and offer her the protection he was born to give.
Her gaze flicked toward him, and for a moment, time was suspended again. Every time he got close to her, he was trapped by the sheer intensity of his response to her. He was aware of her on every level as a woman. Every part of who he was responded
His gaze went to her mouth, then snapped back up to her face almost instantly, but the heat continued to rise from his body. "We're not safe here," he said, his low voice wrapping around her like an invisible caress. "Drive us out of here."
She swallowed, knowing it must be making him crazy that his injured ankle kept him from driving. "You can't heal your ankle on your own."
"I'm fine—"
"And I'm worried about my bite," she blurted out.
His gaze went to her throat, his brow furrowing as he inspected it. He still hadn't retreated, his body pressing her into the seat. "It's not deep—"
"It's not my first one from him." It was almost impossible for someone to become a shifter just from being bitten by one. But repeated, grievous injury from the same wolf was a different story, with the potential to turn the human into a shifter. Not all females with one shifter parent inherited the ability to shift. When it became apparent that she was one of those failures, Grigori had ordered Lucius to turn her into one by biting her repeatedly until the wolf proteins built up in her blood. She'd fought it desperately, because a bitten shifter always became a half-crazed werewolf, unable to contain their bloodlust. Those shifters were the ones that horrors of werewolf lore were founded upon.
His face darkened. " What ?" His voice was clipped, taut with fury.
Crud. She hadn't meant to tell him. She didn't need his sympathy. All she wanted was to get out of the SUV and find Kiernan, praying that he would help. "Nothing. I just—"
His gaze went to her stomach, and she realized she'd pressed her hand over her old wounds. She winced as understanding flashed across his face. Damn him for being perceptive.
Scowling, he grasped the waistband of her shirt and started to pull it up.
She grabbed his wrist, holding his hand down, panic rippling through her. "No, don't."
No one ever got to see her stomach, and the last thing she could endure was Jace being the first one to see her truth.
----
J ace froze at the sudden fear in Abby's eyes when he grasped the hem of her shirt.
Her face had paled, and her grip on his wrist was desperate. Her fingernails were digging into his skin. Swearing under his breath, he went still, trying not to threaten her. She looked so vulnerable that his alpha protective instincts surged to the surface. He would not hurt her. He had to keep her safe. "Let me see," he said, keeping his voice gentle, letting her hear the strength he was offering her.
She shook her head. "No." She dismissed him quickly. "It's fine—"
"Abby. This is my world. I need to know." Foreboding was pressing heavily at him, the certainty that something was very wrong, that she'd been hiding so much from him. "Let me see," he said again.
Her eyes narrowed. "You're a persistent pain in the ass."
He grinned. "Yeah, I am."
"Fine, but only because I don't want to listen to your harassment for the next hour." She glared at him one more time, then she bit her lower lip and let her fingers slide off his wrist. Her bravado faded into vulnerability as she clasped her hands on top of her head and stared out the windshield, avoiding eye contact with him.
His heart softened at her stoic resignation, and he touched her jaw lightly to reassure her and connect them. The moment his fingers brushed over her skin, he went still, shocked by how soft her skin was. So fragile, so smooth, so delicate. Fierce protectiveness roared through him, a need to draw her into his inner circle and offer her the protection he was born to give.
Her gaze flicked toward him, and for a moment, time was suspended again. Every time he got close to her, he was trapped by the sheer intensity of his response to her. He was aware of her on every level as a woman. Every part of who he was responded
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