Wolf of Stone: Book 2 The Gypsy Healers Series Page 14

  “Her what?” Peri choked, trying to swallow at the same time she spoke.

  “Apparently that is what the pixie call the female chest.”

  “Okay, well, just when you think you’ve heard it all,” Peri said shaking her head. “The only news I have for you is that it’s official, Dalton and Jewel are true mates.”

  “She’s awake?” Elle’s eyes widened.

  “Unfortunately not, but Dalton has confirmed that their bond has opened. Jewel turned eighteen today.”

  “Well that’s a good thing right?”

  Peri shrugged. “It’s a thing, good or not is left to be seen. I still think that Volcan has an ace up his sleeve that I’ve somehow missed.”

  Elle’s brow narrowed. “You think it has something to do with the mate bond between Dalton and Jewel?”

  “I have no idea. I don’t see how it could because regardless of how brilliant that psycho is, he couldn’t have predicted that Jewel would be Dalton’s mate.”

  “You’ll figure it out,” Elle encouraged. “You always do.”

  “Yes, well, while I’m off saving the world you and the three burritos be sure and entertain the pixies for me.”

  “Speaking of the healers—and it’s the three amigos by the way—they have been feeling the pull of the bond and it’s getting stronger. They don’t complain about it, but I catch each of them at different times cringing or looking off longingly towards the direction of the veil. Should we be concerned?”

  “It’s not going to kill them if that’s what you’re worried about. But I can’t promise that it won’t get worse before it gets better.”

  “When will it get better?” Elle asked.

  “Well, let’s see, they’re in pain now because they’re separated from their true mates, and later they will be in pain because their true mates are possessive, domineering, arrogant butt heads.” She tapped her cheek thoughtfully. “So never I guess.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you are just a ball full of warm fuzzies?” Elle asked sarcastically. “And you can’t fool me, old friend, I know how you really feel about your mate.”

  “It is not my job to go around making everyone feel like their crap doesn’t stink or that world peace is actually a possibility. It’s my job to keep everyone alive. And how I feel about my mate doesn’t change the fact that male werewolves might be better off as rugs in our homes. I’m just saying.”

  Peri winked at the warrior. “But yes, I adore him. Tell anyone that and no one will ever find your body.”

  “Warm fuzzies, Perizada, warm fuzzies,” Elle laughed as the high fae flashed.

  ~

  Jewel could feel him. She didn’t know how she knew it was him, other than the warmth and wholeness that flooded her from his nearness.

  “It seems like forever since I last saw you,” Dalton’s voice penetrated the deep slumber she had fallen into.

  “It can’t have been that long,” she told him and was shocked to see that in her mind’s eye he was there standing before her. “Is this a dream?”

  He chuckled and the sound sent ripples of pleasure down every nerve ending in her body. "That was a new feeling," she thought. It was something she had read about in her many romance novels, but not anything she had experienced firsthand―until now.

  “You know it is not. We are talking through our bond.”

  “But how can I see you. It’s as if you are really here before me, like I could just reach out and touch you.”

  “Why don’t you?” His sultry voice dropped an octave and Jewel was pretty sure she had just swooned for the first time.

  “How?”

  “Our mental bond can be used for much more than just words,” he told her.

  Jewel was pretty sure that if she could blush while in a coma, then she had done just that. The implication of his words was loud and clear.

  He took a step closer to her and another until he was standing less than three feet away. He was huge, at least a foot taller than her five-foot-four inches. She had to tilt her head back to look up at his ruggedly handsome face. It was the first time she was seeing him, and she couldn’t understand how one such as him could have picked her. He had dark brown hair that was messy in all the right ways. His cool, pale blue eyes seemed to see straight into her soul, and she felt more vulnerable than if she were naked before him. His strong jaw and high cheekbones were too hard to be considered beautiful; he was masculine in every sense of the word. He seemed so capable as he stood there with his shoulders back, his muscles bulging in his dark shirt and jeans. He was everything she never thought she could have, not her, with the strawberry locks that she kept short, just below her ears framing her face.

  She was just plain Jewel, nothing nearly as glamorous as her name, and yet the male before her claimed to be hers. She was pretty sure that it must all be something she had concocted in her comatose state. Her reality would never be one so full of excitement and well, truth be told, utter sexiness.

  “You find me to be sexy?” he asked her as his head tilted ever so slightly to the side. His lips quirked up in a crooked smile, and she was pretty sure that if she never tasted those lips she would die of disappointment.

  “Interesting,” he murmured.

  “I thought you were going to try and give me some privacy,” she scolded.

  “Yes, well that was before I realized how fascinating your thoughts would be.”

  “Are you shameless?”

  He laughed. “When it comes to you, apparently yes I am.”

  Well, she thought, what was she supposed to say to that?

  “I want to touch you,” he told her and again she was taken aback by his forwardness. The need in his eyes was completely unmasked, and she wondered at his ability to be so open with her. Wasn’t he afraid of rejection?

  “You need me just as much as I need you; why should I be worried you will reject me?” He held his hand out to her and it took all of her limited self-control not to throw herself in his huge arms.

  Jewel placed her much smaller hand in his and let him draw her closer until there was no space between their bodies. She could feel every hard muscle against her softer form, and her heartbeat began to become erratic. She was actually afraid she might pass out. She didn’t even know if that was possible, but whatever altered conscious state this was, it was real―very, very real.

  “Relax,” he purred into her ear. His warm breath caressed her neck and she felt her eyes drifting closed as a soft moan escaped her lips. How appalling, she thought. She didn’t want to come across as some loose floosy. But then if he kept pressing his lips to her neck like he was currently doing, she just might climb up him and plaster herself to him.

  “How am I supposed to relax with you doing that?” she asked through breathless pants.

  “Jewel?” Dalton’s voice suddenly seemed stronger, less sexy, and very full of concern.

  She opened her eyes and was surprised to see confusion and shock in his face as he held her tighter to him.

  “Did you say my name?”

  “It’s time for me to go; I’ll be back, Little Dove.” And just like that his physical form vanished. But she could still feel his warmth, just as she had so many times as he stood vigil by her bedside.

  “Are you alright, love?” Now his voice was out loud instead of just in her mind, and she wondered how he could sound so different from one breath to the next.

  “I’m fine,” she told him, attempting to bring her quivering voice under control. She was completely embarrassed at her response to him. If this was how she responded to his mental presence, what would she be like when she was finally awake again and standing before his Adonis form?

  “Sally wanted me to talk with you about why—,”

  “Why I can’t seem to wake up?” she finished for him. She didn’t want to sound defensive but she knew she did. “I don’t know. The logical part of my brain knows that the suffering, the pain, is over. But . . . .”

  “But there is
a part of your brain that doesn’t want to let go of what happened, and because of that it’s just safer to stay where the pain can’t reach you.”

  “How can you know that?”

  “Direct access, love,” he reminded her.

  “Okay, that might get a little more than annoying.”

  “You have the same access to me.”

  Jewel had already considered that, but there was a part of her that totally understood the whole can’t unsee concept. She was afraid that she would hear or see something in his mind that she would never be able to unhear or unsee. Jewel was a sponge when it came to information, and she knew that once it was in her mind it was there for good.

  “I will never hide anything from you, Jewel,” Dalton told her, speaking out loud again. “I am who I am and I’m not proud of the things I’ve done. I can’t change the past; all I can do is strive to be different. I wish that there weren’t things in my past that will hurt you, but they are there, and sooner or later you will have to face them.”

  She knew that, she just preferred that it be later rather than sooner. “I know that you can’t change your past, Dalton, and I don’t expect you to. I just want to make sure that I’m really ready to know, you know what I mean? It’s one thing for a person to tell you something, it’s a whole different thing for me to experience it through your memories.”

  He was quiet for a few moments and she wondered if she had hurt him. That was the last thing she wanted. The idea of hurting him was abhorrent to her.

  “You didn’t hurt my feelings, Jewel.” He sounded amused, as if she didn’t have the ability to hurt him. “That’s not what I’m saying either. You above all else have the ability to destroy me.”

  “Gee, Casanova, you really know how to make a girl feel special.”

  Dalton couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about Jewel was off. When he had returned from talking with Sally, he had noticed that her skin was flushed and her heart rate was sporadic. Although those two things in and of themselves peeked his interest, what really stirred his wolf was his mate’s scent. It had changed, albeit subtly. He had forced himself to stop and take several deep breaths to be sure, but on the third breath he was sure he was scenting her pheromones. His little dove was turned on. He couldn’t imagine what on earth had her in such a state, and when he had tried to enter her mind, he had found himself unable to get in. He didn’t want to alarm her so he had tried to sound calm, and when she didn’t elaborate or offer up any information on what had happened, if anything, he hadn’t wanted to push her.

  As interesting as this mystery was, he knew what was really important was finding out why she wasn’t waking up. He wanted to complete the Blood Rites. He had a feeling that would bring her back, but then he didn’t want to push something so incredible permanent on her, especially when she barely knew him.

  “What if I never wake up?” she asked him after several minutes of silence.

  “I won’t let that happen. I have too many plans for you,” he teased. He felt her embarrassment, but he also felt the beginning of interest.

  “Do you have any suggestions for me to try?”

  Dalton hesitated before he answered. He didn’t know how she would respond to the answer he was about to give her, but he figured it was worth a try. “I haven’t given you any of my blood in a while.”

  “That was really your blood?” Her voice rose in his mind and for the first time since all of this began he felt fear in her. “Is that hygienic?”

  “Werewolves don’t carry diseases if that is what you are worried about.”

  “Why did it taste good? I mean, that’s not normal.”

  “A lot of things that humans find weird are perfectly normal for werewolves.”

  He imagined if she could she would shrug as she murmured in his mind. “Good point.”

  “We’re true mates; that means everything about the other one appeals to us. Our scent, our taste, and our touch are all hypersensitive between us.”

  “So you think that if you give me your blood, it will help me come back?”

  “I think the pull that we have for one another is going to help, and when we exchange blood it makes our bond that much stronger,” he explained. He almost felt guilty for the nearly euphoric feeling that was building in the deepest part of his soul at the thought of sharing something so personal with her. He wanted her blood, but he needed her to understand the severity of the consequences before he took it. He didn’t know if she was listening to him or just subconsciously picking up on his thoughts, but her next question was right up his line of thinking.

  “Have you had my blood?”

  “No.” He felt the sting in his words on her feelings and felt like an ass for being so short with her.

  “You don’t want it?”

  She couldn’t possibly understand how her question would affect him, and so he forced himself to swallow the growl that rose in his chest. “I want your blood more than anything. To be able to have such a claim on you, to have your scent running through my veins so that every wolf who comes near me will know that I belong to you and you belong to me, is intoxicating. I want to know what you taste like and to know that I am the only male that will ever have that privilege nearly drives me to my knees. But there are consequences to me taking your blood since you have already had my blood.”

  “What consequences? Will I become a werewolf?”

  Dalton smiled. If Jewel were a wolf her coat would probably have a red tint to it, she would be lovely. “No, little dove, werewolves are born, not made. There is a ceremony that is performed between true mates called the Blood Rites. One of the ways true mates lay claim to one another is through marking each other with their bite. I will bite your neck and leave my mark on you and take your blood into my body. You will then bite me, though your mark will not remain visible. You will also take my blood into your body, as you already have, and my scent will be in you forever. No wolf will ever be near you and not know that you are mine.”

  “Why doesn’t my bite stay on you?”

  “There is another way that mates lay claim to one another; we gain markings. The males of our species have tattoo like markings on their body indicating their rank and place in the pack. When we find our true mate, those markings change. My markings have changed. They now climb up my neck and down my right arm. You too will have markings that match mine somewhere on your body.” Dalton was tempted to look for those markings, but he would have to be patient and wait for her to wake until he could see them. “The other important detail is once the Blood Rites are complete, our fates are tied to one another. If you die, I will follow and if I die,” he paused hating to think of a world without Jewel in it, “you will follow.”

  “Wow, you guys really take this claiming stuff seriously.”

  “We might be a little on the possessive side, and as I’ve expressed to you before, I might be a tad more on the extreme side because of my history.”

  “Some of the books I read have males like you in them. I never thought men like that really existed,” she confessed to him.

  “Are you glad that you have one such as that to call your own?” he asked her, not sure if he really wanted to know her answer.

  “Will you ever break my heart?”

  “I would sooner rip my own heart from my chest,” he told her truthfully.

  “I honestly can’t believe that I can call you mine. You are way out of my league.”

  Dalton didn’t like that she didn’t think she was worthy of him. The truth was she was worth far beyond him or what he could give her. But he was selfish and not willing to give her up. “You’re wrong there, little dove. It is you who are out of my league. But I’m afraid you are stuck with me.”

  “I suppose I will just have to make do,” she teased him.

  Dalton sat down on the side of her bed and leaned over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I suppose you will,” he whispered through their bond. Then he bit into his wrist and held it t
o her lips. “Drink please, Jewel. Drink and come back to me.” Her lips wrapped around his arm, and he bit down on the inside of his cheek to keep from moaning like an idiot. He didn’t want to scare her with the intensity of his desire for her so he tried to block his emotions from her as she drank from him. He could feel her soul drawing closer to his, filling him, and beckoning his own to her. It was intimate as hell, and he found that he could become addicted to the feeling―to her.

  “I should be totally grossed out by this; I know that and yet I feel like a druggy hoping for my next fix.” Her voice was breathless even in his mind, and he couldn’t wait to hear it sound like that out loud. He felt the rush of the act flowing through her, and then suddenly she was exhausted. It poured over him and he felt himself slumping forward having to catch himself so that he didn’t lie down on top of her.

  “Sleep love, I will be here when you wake,” he told her gently.

  “Will you come visit me again, like you did before?”

  Dalton was caught off guard by her question, and it took him several moments to answer. By the time he asked her what she meant, Jewel was already sound asleep. What had she been talking about when she said come visit like he did before? Maybe she had dreamt of him and she thought it was real. He wasn’t sure, but as badly as he himself needed rest, he needed to know what she was talking about. He closed his eyes and slipped into her mind. He was prepared to wait to see if perhaps his answers would come through her memories or dreams. Part of him felt like he was invading her privacy, but at the same time he was driven to keep her safe no matter what―even at the expense of her personal space.

  Dalton sifted through her memories and felt himself growing sad as he realized just how much of her time in her short life had been spent alone. She was every bit as scarred as he was, just in different ways for different reasons. Perhaps the Great Luna did know what she was doing when she destined them to be true mates. He wanted to replace all of those lonely memories with new ones filled with love and acceptance. There was nothing more that he wanted than for his mate to feel as precious as he knew her to be. He didn’t have a clue how to be what she needed, but he would figure it out; no other outcome was acceptable.