Page 16 of Witch's Moon
Crouching down beside her, he reached out a hand. She flinched, but he ignored her and stroked the long strands of hair away from her face. “Trust me. I can see you through this.”
“I’ll hurt you.”
“No, you won’t.” He straightened, then leaned down and lifted her in his arms. Her body tensed, and he thought she would fight him. If she did, he’d have to knock her out, but after a few seconds, she relaxed, burrowing her face into his shirt.
She wasn’t light, but he held her trembling body with ease, up the stairs and down the hallway. The front door was open, and he carried her through, kicking the door closed behind him, and headed into the forest.
He glanced back once. Catrin stood silhouetted in one of the first-floor windows, watching them. She raised a hand, and Caleb nodded in return and continued on. He carried Regan a good way from the house. It was raining harder now, and he welcomed the cool drops against his heated skin. His own change was tugging at him, clawing at his belly, all his senses sharply focused. The smells of the forest filled his nostrils: damp leaves, rich soil, and, in the distance, warm prey.
He stopped under a large oak tree. It had a distinctive shape, and he’d noted it earlier—they’d need to find their way back here in the morning. He gently lowered Regan to the ground. Her knees gave way, and she collapsed to the forest floor.
∞∞∞
Regan lifted her face to the sky. The rain was cool against her burning skin.
“How do you feel?”
She glanced up at the question. Caleb loomed over her, hands thrust in his pockets, staring down, his expression closed, giving nothing away.
She thought about it, searched inside herself. “Better.”
It was true; most of the panic had receded as soon as she was out of the house and into the open air.
“Wolves hate to be trapped,” Caleb said. “Your wolf wanted out of that place.”
“I didn’t want to hurt anyone. I thought that was my best bet.”
She still didn’t want to, and while the panic might have receded, she knew this thing wasn’t over. Her skin prickled with energy, tremors rippled up her spine, and her clothes felt too tight. She could sense something alien inside her, something that wanted out, so it paced the confines of her body, nudging at the edges of her consciousness. She pushed down her fear. She needed to concentrate.
“You won’t,” Caleb said. “There’s no one to hurt out here.” He paused. “Besides, I’ll be with you all the way.”
“You will?”
He nodded, and relief swept over her. She couldn’t understand it. She’d always stood alone. She preferred it that way, but when he reached a hand down to her, she slid her palm into his. A wave of calm washed through her, soothing the worst of her fears.
He pulled her to her feet, then dropped her hand and stepped back.
As she watched, he plucked open the buttons of his shirt and tugged it out of his pants. He shrugged it off and tossed it to the ground, to stand before her bare from the waist up. Raindrops glistened on his broad, powerful chest. His hand went to the waistband of his jeans, and her gaze dropped to follow the movement. He flicked open the button, lowered the zipper, and a jolt of heat fired through her body.
What was he doing taking his clothes off at a time like this?
He glanced up, caught her avid stare, and amusement flashed briefly in his face. “This isn’t a floor show,” he murmured. “You need to undress. That is, if you want anything left of your clothes to put on in the morning.”
Understanding filtered through the strange new sensations crowding her mind. He was a werewolf! She stared at him—why hadn’t she seen it?
When she didn’t move, he raised an eyebrow. “I have seen you naked before.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked.
He paused his undressing and glanced across at her. “It wasn’t any of your business.”
“And it is now?”
He released his breath in a long sigh. “You know, now really isn’t the time for this conversation.”
She thought about arguing, but he was right. She hated to admit it, but she could sense that time was running out. There would be occasion enough to clear things up—if they survived this night.
When she didn’t speak, he went back to undressing. He tugged off his boots and socks, then hooked his hands in his jeans and pushed them down over his lean hips.
