For the first few minutes, I'm too busy straining to hear what's going on behind me. After Kier tossed Ant aside, there's been silence, utter silence, and I'm desperate to know what's happening, because it doesn't sound like Kier and Peter are fighting.
It doesn't sound like anything is happening at all.
Marshall, wearing the blue jeans I borrowed from the hiker and nothing else remains just as silent as he leads me by the hand through the forest. His grip is so tight that I don't dare tell him he shouldn't be on his feet because of his injury. I don't dare say anything because I can feel his anger-his rage-and it's like a living, breathing thing.
Within minutes, we're back in sight of the cabin I left behind what felt like forever ago.
Suddenly, I feel a thousand times colder, and I can't stop my teeth from chattering as if the promise of warmth has reminded me how cold I am. Considering I've spent the whole day outside in nothing but a t-shirt, I'm not the least bit surprised.
Still, without having said a word, Marshall leads the way inside, and closes the door behind us.
Everything is mostly the same as I left it hours ago. Almost everything. I was afraid of the fire going out and I can see that it would have… had someone not added more firewood. The same someone has also left a small pile close by, more than enough to see us through at least another couple of days.
But that isn't the only difference. There's light inside now, which allows me to see more than I would have before.
"Where did the candles come from?" I stutter with cold, my eyes going to the pillar candles dotted around the cabin. "And the wood?"
Marshall tugs me over to the fire and urges me to sit on the edge of the mattress. "Kier."
When he crouches beside me, I'm grateful he's not in front of me because the heat coming off the fire is incredible, and I think I would've shoved him aside if he'd blocked it with his body.
For several minutes, I do nothing but sit with my eyes closed and my shaking hands held out in front of me. Slowly, the heat seeps into my bones, warming me inside and out. A mug of something hot is pressed into my hands, and without opening my eyes I take it and sip from the cup that smells of herbal tea.
"I have soup," Marshall murmurs.
I shake my head. "Later."
Once I've stopped shivering and my teeth are no longer chattering, Marshall takes the empty cup from me, and I open my eyes.
The first place my gaze goes is to Marshall's bare chest. His unbandaged and no longer bleeding chest. "You're better," I murmur as I lift a hand to him.
Before I can touch him, he grips my wrist. "Marshall?"
His green eyes are dark, filled with a fierce determination that instantly makes me wary. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"What's wrong?" Marshall's voice is whisper quiet. He releases my wrist to grip my chin instead, tilting my head back. Not so I can meet his eyes, but so he can examine my throat. "What's wrong is that I go to sleep after a dream and wake to a nightmare. You gone. Taken. What's wrong is there are bruises on you. Marks on your skin."
His voice is devastatingly soft, intimate even, but it's all the more impactful since his eyes burn with naked fury.
"Marshall, I'm sorry I went out, but we needed firewood and water, and I didn't want you-"
"You didn't want me to care for you," he interrupts in that same soft voice. "You didn't want my help. You wanted to prove something to yourself. Something that nearly got you killed when you tried to run from those…" He shakes his head as if he can't find the words, as if he doesn't trust himself to speak anymore.
The intensity in his eyes means it takes a second for me to understand what he's saying, and then it becomes clear. "You were there. In the forest. You were making the sounds?"
Marshall brushes his fingers along my throat, his eyes never moving from the bruises I know Peter must have left with his brief attempt to choke me. "Kier has had dealings with these brothers before. He said it would be better to make sure you were safe first. If not, they wouldn't hesitate to kill you. He thought it best to wait for an opportunity."
The fury in his voice makes it clear it wasn't a decision he agreed with.
I shake my head when I think back to the forest. "But I didn't scent you, I didn't-"
His fingers continue to trail along my throat, tracing the outline of the bruises I can still feel. "We shifted and used the forest to cover our scent."
With an inner sense that Marshall's emotions are only growing more heated instead of cooling, I try to smile. "But you don't have to be worried now. I'm safe."
For the first time since he sat me down, Marshall's gaze leaves my throat, and he meets my eyes. "Safe?"
He blinks, and then suddenly I'm meeting the gaze of an enraged wolf. I tear my eyes away as my heart spikes in alarm. "Marshall, what is this? What's going on?"
When he speaks, his voice is achingly gentle. "I'm losing control of my wolf, Jenna."
I go still for one second and then my heart starts pounding. The sound seems overly loud in a quiet cabin filled with the fire crackling.
"All it wants is to secure your safety. Permanently. Do you know how that side of me wants to do it?"
I don't answer because it's obvious. The wolf has two primary motivations: to survive and to protect its mate.
More than once, Marshall has made it clear that he-both sides of him-regard me as his mate. But he hasn't bitten me. He hasn't made us unbreakable mates, so it's clear at once what his wolf is driving him to do.
I shake my head. "I'm not ready."
Marshall strokes his hands up my arms. Closing his eyes, he curves one hand around my nape before leaning in close to rest his forehead against mine.
Before I was shaking from cold. Now I feel him trembling, and I know it must be from holding his wolf back. "I know, jellybean. I know."
We sit like that in silence for several minutes. Not moving, not speaking, just resting against each other.
Finally, I swallow. "So, your wolf wants to bite me-mate with me. But the man, what does he want?"
Marshall lets out a slow breath. Maybe in relief that I'm not running or screaming, I don't know. "What he always wants. To protect you from the world, to kiss you, to mend all your hurts, love you, make love to you. Everything."
I smile. "So, not much then."
"No, not much at all." At hearing the humor his voice, I curl my arms around him and rest my head on his shoulder
His arms draw me a little closer to the warmth of his body. "Jellybean?"
"Your wolf," I start, thinking through my question as I hold Marshall against me. "Just what kind of mood is he in?"
Marshall's long pause before he speaks has anxiety whirling through me.
"I'm not going to lie, jellybean, not calm. Not the least bit calm."
That's what I thought. "What does that mean? What will it mean if you lose control?"
He sighs. "Baby, it's not a matter of if, but when."
Again, what he's saying isn't anything new because, out of all the shifters in the pack, Marshall is the one who has to fight the hardest to control the wolf half of him.
We all have different relationships with our wolves, but for Marshall, his wolf seems to dominate a little more than his human side. My wolf is quiet, timid, and mostly lies sleeping. I sometimes think it's my human side that's the strongest.
But then Marshall is a dominant wolf. Third-well, fourth now after Dayne, Talis, and Luka. Although Luka is only a little more dominant than he is, nothing in his calm and sober exterior reveals that.
So, even if Marshall stops himself from biting me now, I know that all it'd take is one second for his wolf to get what he wants: to make us bitten mates.
"I see."
"I don't think you do." Marshall grips my arms and leans back a little, so we're mostly face to face, except this time it's him fixing his eyes on my ear which tells me everything I need to know about his level of control right now. "I want to throw you down, baby. I want to tear that shirt from your body and take you every single way I can. I want you screaming beneath me. Begging me."
My insides go liquid with need at his gruff words. "Oh."
His nostrils flare as he inhales. For one second, his eyes dart to mine and they're filled with a different kind of heat. The less angry kind. "The thought excites you," he growls, low in his throat.
I consider denying it, even knowing there's no point. With a shifter nose, he wouldn't have missed my body's response to his words. "Maybe."
Marshall lowers his head, and his lips touch mine. "It does. I know what it's doing to you."
I shake my head.
I'm not expecting one of Marshall's hands to stroke down my t-shirt, over one breast, briefly squeezing the small weight in his hand. My breath catches and then it turns heavy. His hand glides down, the rough pads of his fingers brushing along my inner thigh.
All the while, his gaze remains locked on my face. "Why don't we find out?"
I don't say a word, just stare into Marshall's eyes as his fingers continue to glide along my bare thigh and between my legs.
At the first touch, I jump. His other hand on my arm tightens as if to hold me against him. I want to tell him not to bother, that I'm not going anywhere.
By now I'm panting, my chest heaving as Marshall's fingers stroke me intimately. "Marshall…" I moan, widening my legs as he presses a finger inside me.
Eagerly, my body accepts his probing touch. As I'm sinking back into the bed with Marshall leaning toward me, a second away from kissing me, my eyes flutter closed as I wait for his kiss.
But suddenly, Marshall is no longer touching me. My back thumps against the mattress, and I wrench my eyes open in surprise.
When I blink and sit up, my gaze locks on an agitated Marshall pacing in front of the fire as he rakes a hand through the long hair hanging loose around his face.
I try to shove down my arousal so I can figure out what's going on. "Marshall-"
He doesn't even turn to look at me. Violently, he shakes his head. "No. I shouldn't be touching you. I shouldn't be anywhere near you, not with the way I'm feeling. Not with what I want to do to you."
I'm not sure why, but Marshall's insistence that we don't do this is strangely having the opposite effect. The more he's determined not to do this, the more I want to.
"So, if we don't, then what? Will Kier be coming here?"
Marshall's low growl is full of fury. "You're mine. Not his. He cannot have you."
I go still because this level of possessiveness from him is new. And something tells me it's his wolf speaking, which is a problem. A serious problem.
I will myself to stay calm, so I don't trigger his wolf's fury any more than I have with my inadvertent question. "I'm not interested in Kier and he isn't in me. He's interested in Hallee, remember?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but when the tension leaves his body and he slows his pacing, I realize my words have gotten through to him.
When he turns to shoot me an apologetic smile, I breathe a little easier that it's his deep green eyes I'm meeting, and not his wolf's lighter green. "I know, I'm sorry for growling."
"It's okay. I wanted to know whether Kier is coming back to the cabin after…" My voice trails off because I'm still not sure what happened back there. "His fight, I guess, with those shifters. Or if he's going back to his cabin?"
Marshall snorts. "It'll be no fight, baby. When he learned those shifters had taken you, he was ready to kill me just for wanting to help."
"I don't understand. How did he know? And how did he know to bring candles and firewood?"
"He heard a howl, but he didn't immediately recognize the wolf, but later he did. By the time he drove out, wanting to make sure you'd gotten home safe, it was the next day, and the fight was over. He found the truck on the side of the road and tracked us to this cabin. He said we were sleeping when he got here, so he headed back to his cabin to grab some supplies. By the time he got back, you were gone, and I was on my way after you."
As he's speaking, my gaze lowers and I take in the candlelight dancing over his lean, muscled chest. Suddenly, I remember what we were doing before I left. I remember what I was doing to him, and my body warms in memory.
I want him.
My intention to keep Marshall talking until he can regain full control of his wolf takes a back seat to another need. Another want. I want him, but that's not all I want. I want to bite him.
"Baby?"
I ignore Marshall's voice to focus on his throat, at the spot I kissed before, and the place I'm desperate to bite. As I'm staring at it, I feel the unexpected presence of my wolf, a largely silent presence in my head. Except she's not quiet now. She has wants to, and she wants the same thing as Marshall.
"My wolf wants to bite you," I blurt.
It takes me a second to find the courage to peek into Marshall's face, but when I do, I find he's taken a couple of steps closer to me than he was before.
The stunned amazement on his face would have me laughing if I wasn't busy fighting back my urge to launch myself at him. "What?"
I lick my dry lips as my arousal builds. "It doesn't make sense, but she views you as hers, and she wants to claim you. And I…" My voice trails off.
When I glance at him, I find his eyes locked on my mouth. "You, what…?"
"I want you to bite me. I want you to do more than that," I whisper.
He takes a step closer. My gaze drops to the growing bulge in the front of his pants.
"What do you want me to do?"
As I stare at his rock-hard erection, I chew on my lower lip, remembering what he felt like in my mouth, and inside me. "Is Kier coming back here?" My voice is so husky that I don't think I've ever sounded this needy in my life. I've certainly never felt like I do right this moment.
"He's dealing with the shifters and returning to his cabin." Marshall sounds as distracted as I am.
His hands go to his pants as he stalks toward me, shoving the material down along the way. At the sight of his fierce erection, jutting out from his body, already glistening with need, my mouth goes dry.
"So, we're going to be alone?" God, why does saying that, why does thinking it, make me feel even more aroused? My breathing turns heavy as I watch Marshall's approach.
"Yes." And then suddenly he's kicking his pants off and gently easing me back on the mattress as he stretches his body out on top of mine. He lowers his head and kisses my throat. "I'll try to be gentle, baby. I won't hurt you."
I raise his head, so we're eye to eye. "You said you wanted to tear my shirt off and take me every single way you could," I breathe.
His eyes are almost black with desire, and his hands spasm around my hips. "Yes. But I won't. You're not used to that. I don't want to hurt you or scare you. That's the last thing I'll ever want to do."
I don't break eye contact with him. "I want you to. I want you to make me scream."
Although I feel his cock jerking against my belly, he doesn't move. He shakes his head. "No. You don't know what my wolf wants. You don't know how my wolf wants to take you. How hard. No."
For several seconds, I study the firmness of Marshall's face, his determination never to do anything that would threaten to hurt or scare me.
When he closes his eyes, I know he must be in a fight with his wolf again. All because he doesn't want to hurt me, doesn't want to frighten me.
I trail my fingers along his stubbled jaw. A recent addition, and one I don't mind. It makes him look rougher, fierce when I know he's anything but. With me, he's always tender. Loving.
My eyes track the journey my fingers take as they smooth over his strong jaw and his full lower lip, knowing he's opened his eyes because I can feel the heat of them searching my face.
"For a long time, I thought in time our relationship would turn into a horror-filled nightmare where your needs and wants would become more important than mine, that you'd take me over and there wouldn't be anything left of me behind."
Marshall doesn't interrupt. With his weight braced on his elbows beside my head, he listens quietly as I speak about a deep-rooted fear that I should've told him about long before now.
"I think it started when I was seventeen or eighteen. Maybe before, I don't know. But it wasn't enough to stop me from falling in love with you, with wanting you, with needing you. I kept waiting for you to realize you had no use for a submissive girlfriend, that you'd much rather prefer someone like Hallee or even someone who would fight back like Talis. I know it surprised her to see us together. I saw it on her face when she first came to Hardin, and it reminded me again we were too different to last."
Marshall parts his lips to speak.
With my eyes still on my fingers on his jaw, I move them to cover his mouth, silencing him. "I second-guessed everything. And then Glynn Merrick kidnapped Talis, and you were angry. I knew you'd leave then, find someone more dominant. But you didn't. You stayed."
When I lift my gaze, there's no sign of his wolf in his eyes. He's gazing down at me with love in his eyes and a tenderness I can feel in my heart.
"All you've ever done is make me feel strong. Make me feel like someone cared. No one waited for me to shift but you. No one cared about my business as much as you did. You helped me figure out the tools I'd need to build my own business instead of taking over and doing it all for me. I made a lot of mistakes, not just with my business, but my home as well, but you never let me give up. Now I have a business I'm proud of, a home I never believed I was capable enough to keep. I can even do my own taxes."
His eyes soften as he strokes a hand through my hair. "Jellybean… all the strength was already there inside you. You are not weak. You're quiet, but that does not make you weak."
"No," I say softly, remembering how I didn't turn into a blubbering mess when the shifters kidnapped me. I was afraid, but that wasn't all I was. I didn't let fear rule me and it could have. "I'm not. And even if I was, even if everything I believed about myself was true, it doesn't mean I'm not deserving of love. And of you."
Marshall dips his head and kisses me, and smiling, wanting to cry, I wrap my arms around him and kiss him back. Pouring all my love into it.
For several long minutes, Marshall and I kiss with increasing urgency. His hands grip at my shirt, prepare to rip. But with a growl, he tears his mouth away and rises, keeping his back to me.
Frowning, I sit up. "Marshall?"
He shakes his head. "Baby, I can't… I can't control my wolf right now."
"Your wolf won't hurt me. You won't hurt me."
Again, he shakes his head as he stalks to the cabin door, determination in every line of his naked back. "I wish I could believe that, Jenna. But I can't risk hurting you, and the things my wolf wants to do… I can't. It's best I leave."