Tags:
Fiction,
Suspense,
Romance,
Contemporary,
Paranormal,
Adult,
Family Life,
supernatural,
holiday,
Danger,
Erotic,
shifters,
Bachelor,
battle,
Alpha,
Violence,
Ouachita Mountain,
Human,
Protection,
mates,
New Year's Eve,
Forever Love,
Single Woman,
Cougar,
Seasonal,
Christmas Time,
Festive Season,
Mistletoe,
confession,
Four Years,
clan,
Big Cats,
Shattered Heart,
Rejected,
Changed Laws,
No Mating Law,
Christmas List,
Threat
her. Heal her. And if it shredded his heart, then so be it.
Doc moved to the door as Ryan pulled Layna into his lap, cradling her gently in his arms. He kissed her head between her pointy ears, nuzzling her thick fur.
“Ryan,” Doc added.
“Hmm?”
“I’m glad you’re back.”
Chapter Six
The room was quiet except for the soft crackle of the fire and the breath rushing in and out of her lungs. No, not only her breath. There was another’s. Someone else slept with her, but she was too foggy to care, let alone decipher who it was.
Layna stretched, loving the feel of the soft cotton sheets against her bare skin. Her back ached but it wasn’t bad. She’d been in bed too long probably. But the thought of getting up was too daunting. Especially since she couldn’t even seem to open her eyes.
The warm pull of sleep beckoned her back to unconsciousness. It was unnatural, the way it swept her under like a wave from the ocean. Something she couldn’t fight. But she didn’t try. It was too soft, too comforting not to succumb.
The next time she woke, the fog had lifted slightly. Enough to remember what had happened to her in the woods, but not enough for her to lift her lids. And still, that sweet sleep called to her with a siren’s song, promising everything would be alright, if she’d just come under its spell.
So she did.
Later—could have been hours or mere minutes—she became aware of the soft snore against her ear. It belonged to whoever shared the room with her. Maybe Doc Davis was keeping watch over her and drifted off. Or Renner. She pictured her brother curled up on the bed next to her like he used to do when they were little and he’d had a nightmare. It brought a giggle past her throat.
Except it came out garbled and slow, sounding more like a toy train with bad batteries.
Layna struggled to open her eyes as the snoring continued, but they refused to obey her brain’s command. But there was another way to get her bearings. Slowly, she drew in a deep breath letting the scents around her seep past the foggy barrier that kept her from coming fully awake.
Fresh. The green of spring and the crisp smell of soap. Or how the evergreens smell when they’re coated in snow.
My mate .
Joy flooded her, liquid and warm in her veins. He came. When she needed him, he came. It was hard to remember everything that happened after the woods, but she knew she was injured. Bad enough to need the help of her mate. And he was here. Ryan was here.
She managed to move her hand, landing somewhere on his body. The warmth radiating from him brought tears to her still closed eyes.
Mine , her cat rumbled weakly.
The snoring stopped abruptly and Layna felt the warm fabric beneath her palm flex. She tried to speak but all that came was a questioning groan.
“Shh,” he murmured, and she felt the bed move. “You’ve shifted. You need water. I’ll get it.” Ryan’s sleep roughened voice skated along her nerves, raising chills. He was really here, and all she wanted was to get closer, feel his warmth seeping into her bones, and tell him how much she’d missed him.
“No,” she managed. Her voice sounded like rocks rubbing together, and she struggled again to open her eyes. Through the blurry slit of her lids, she could tell the room was lit by only the fire. It was too much effort to keep them open. She’d just close them for now. “Where… am I?”
Several seconds passed before he answered. In her hazy state, she could almost imagine the thin hand of a clock ticking in the silence.
“My bed.”
It was said carefully. As if he wasn’t sure if it would upset her. But there was something in the background he couldn’t hide. An edge that she caught even sleep-drugged. A slight rumble of satisfaction to his voice. He liked her here.
“Good.”
“Good?”
She gave a nod, hoping he saw it, and fumbled her fingers up his chest. She needed closer. Needed to feel him through the fog. And she needed to tell
Sonya Sones
Jackie Barrett
T.J. Bennett
Peggy Moreland
J. W. v. Goethe
Sandra Robbins
Reforming the Viscount
Erlend Loe
Robert Sheckley
John C. McManus