Many of them sat on the outer perimeter of the impromptu party, watching, chatting, slowly warming to the laughter and camaraderie that seemed to exist. She didn't know how long she stood there watching, but as she watched, others slowly moved closer and became a part of the laughter-filled group.
She had been there three days, and each evening she had stood here watching as the residents of Haven flowed in and out, moving within the acceptance their alpha gave so freely.
"You could be a part of it."
Storme swung around at the soft growl of Styx's voice behind her.
Dropping her arms, she tucked her hands into the pockets of her borrowed jeans and glared back at him.
"Just bring back some food if you don't mind." The smells alone were enough to tempt her to slip into the crowd of sharp-toothed creatures that still held the power to terrify her.
His eyes narrowed.
Each time he made the offer that she could accompany him, and each time she refused.
"You could make an effort to get to know us," he pointed out, his voice sharp.
Storme shrugged. "I just want the food, Styx, I don't want to become the meal."
A muscle at his jaw flexed sharply as she lifted her chin, defying him to retaliate.
Storme had learned early on that she wasn't the cowering type, just as she had learned that often her smart-ass perseverance provided the distraction needed for a Coyote or Council soldier to drop his guard. She'd escaped many times using such a strategy.
And though she realized it wasn't going to work here, still, it was such an ingrained habit that it was almost natural. What wasn't natural though was the small pinprick of guilt this time.
"Do you think I'll allow you to get away with this much longer?" His head tilted to the side, the long strands of wicked red hair falling around the dark, savagely hewn features like a heavy curtain of flames.
Damn, he was too attractive, but then, all Breeds, male and female, were designed to create the image of sexual allure. There were no plain Breeds.
"I try really hard not to think period while I'm here," she informed him tightly. "If I actually allow myself to think, then I may lose my sanity in the bargain. This isn't exactly my idea of a vacation getaway, Wolf."
Irritation at the name flared in his eyes and pricked at her conscience. She couldn't understand why she felt that flare of guilt though. So what if she managed to strike a tender spot. The Breed who had killed her brother hadn't cared how tender James's neck had been when he sliced it open with his teeth. Nor would these Breeds, supposedly more honorable, lose a moment's sleep over ripping her throat out if they thought she had betrayed them.
"Storme, you're creating a situation for yourself that you may not want to step into so easily," he warned her, his tone darkening. "I'd suggest watching that mouth if I were you."
A sharp, mocking laugh leapt to her lips. "Yeah, I'll get right on that, Wolf. While I'm doing that, why don't you fetch us some food?"
Perhaps she should have heeded his advice. Or left off the word fetch. Either one would have likely worked, she thought, as his hands suddenly gripped her shoulders and jerked her around to him, and his head lowered. He shut her up more effectively than if he had possessed a mute button on a remote control designed just for her.
He kissed her.
He stole her strength, her courage and her ability to protest by the simple act of possessing her lips.
Or maybe this was what she was attempting to find again, rather than face his ire.
His lips covering hers, the feel of his kiss, powerful and dominant as it stroked across her senses and brought to life the dreams she'd had in the past nights of those stolen hours they'd shared. Hours spent in the grip of a heated lust so impossible to deny that she had actually allowed a Wolf Breed to take her.
There was something more there than lust though. As his arms surrounded her, pulling her close to the harder, broader length of his body, she felt that something more wrapping around her.
A warmth, a heated emotion she didn't want to examine or know the cause of.
Because looking too deeply into it could undermine everything she had ever believed in, everything she had fought for.
She wanted to live for this moment, for this kiss and the feel of his hands pushing beneath the loose T-shirt she wore, to caress her naked skin. The feel of his palms, roughened and calloused, stroking against her flesh even as he pulled her closer.
He kissed her with heated demand, ate at her lips with a male hunger that struck straight to the heart of the feminine heat building inside her.
The sensual side of her had never been pulled free the way Styx drew it from her.