Page 4 of Wolf's Wild Woman

“Rowan made sure I was safe.”

And he was gone. What had she endured since his death?

“I can tell you where Ivy lives. I just… I need… I…”

Anything she needed, I’d be the man to provide.

“What is it, Rebbie?” Cyan asked.

“I don’t want to go home.”

“Did your mom do this to you?”

I knew the answer before Cyan finished the question. If her mother wasn’t responsible of the act itself, then she was complicit in it by not protecting Rebel from it happening. There were few betrayals that compared to those of a parent. Those were the people who were supposed to love and protect you. I knew the pain of such a betrayal. I bore scars from my own mother.

“Taylor,” Cyan called, and I immediately stepped forward. I braced myself for Rebel’s reaction to me.

“Taylor won’t hurt you,” Cyan reassured her, but she wasn’t looking at me with fear. There was no disgust. She nodded at his words but kept her gaze locked to mine. It definitely held curiosity and maybe, a spark of something else. Lust?

“Rebbie needs a safe place for a few days, until we can find more permanent arrangements.”

“Done,” I rasped. I already had permanent arrangements in mind. Cyan walked away but my gaze remained riveted to Rebel. I wanted to touch her. To cup her face and run my fingertips over the bruises, to somehow brush them away. Before I killed the motherfucker who’d put them there.

“Why are you angry?” Her voice was a low whisper. Then she did the most curious thing. She reached up and skimmed her fingers along my jawline, tickling across the raised scars my beard shielded.

“Am I?” I couldn’t help my gruff tone. And yes, I was mad. Enraged that anyone had lifted a finger to hurt her. “Who did this to you?”

“Who did this to you?” She countered by repeating my demand back to me. Though many had wondered how I received my scars, they seldom had the balls to ask me. “Who put those shadows in your eyes?”

Her words caught me by surprise. I’d been sure she’d ask about my face. My eyes?

“There aren’t any shadows in my eyes.”

“Those are where they’re the deepest,” she informed me, brushing her fingers under my eyes.

I pulled her closer, only pausing when she hissed out a breath, pushing her hand between mine and her side. She tried to pull back, to pull away, but I wouldn’t let her. Instead, I dropped to my knees and tugged at her shirt.

“Show me,” I commanded through gritted teeth, dropping my hands to cup her hips. It was the only thing preventing me from lifting her shirt on my own.

“I…” She trailed off at the sharp shake of my head. I wouldn’t be denied. And once she showed me, once I had the name of the person who’d hurt her, blood would be shed. And I didn’t give a fuck if the person bleeding was her mother.

“Show me,” I repeated, my palms holding her in place while I waited.

She peeked around to make sure no one else was watching. As if any of them would with the pure alpha male vibes I was putting off. She rubbed her fingers together in front of her then dropped her palms to cover my hands then immediately lifted them again as if my skin had burned her. But her gaze never left mine. Finally, she gripped the hem of her shirt and jerked it up angrily.

A growl rumbled up from my chest as her skin was revealed. Bruised. Scraped. There were fucking fingerprints marking her skin, and when I found the fucker who’d put them there, it would take a miracle for me not to kill them.

“Taylor?”

I heard the tremor in her voice, the uncertainty, but I couldn’t stop. I leaned in and brushed my lips over her abused flesh. Once I started, I couldn’t stop. My tongue traced a scrape, and the taste of her exploded in my mouth. I had to gain control and stop before things went too far. My dick was already pounding against my zipper. Not here. Not now. Not where any of the males around might see her. But definitely soon. When I had her alone.

I glanced up and seized her gaze with mine. “Who did this to you?” I spoke as softly as I could, though there was no softening my damaged vocal chords. “Who, Rebel?”

“It doesn’t matter.” She shrugged as if she believed her own words. Who’d taught her that she didn’t matter? That her safety didn’t matter?

“Who, Rebel?” I pulled her shirt back down then stood. Yes, I planned to use my size to intimidate her into giving me answers. She merely patted my chest as if seeking to calm me.

“It doesn’t matter. It won’t happen again. Besides it’s nothing a good run in my wolf skin won’t heal. Now.” She ran her fingers up my abdomen, stopping to rest her palm on my chest. “Do you know a safe place I can stay tonight? If you give me the address, I can get myself there.”

---