Page 23 of Emerald Flame
Chapter Four
Kiara didn’t understand what she was looking at. She was in a dark pine forest. She could hardly see. In the distance was a figure in red, a woman with long blond hair.
She remembered now. This woman chased her in her dreams. Repeatedly.
No. Not again.
Fear bolted through her. She turned and started to run. The path was narrow. Her bare feet hit a thick matting of pine needles.
Cold fingers touched her shoulder. Kiara ran faster trying to escape the freezing touch. It felt like death.Leave him alone. You’ll kill him.
Somehow, she knew the woman was talking about Warren.No. I care about Warren. I would never hurt him.
You’ll get him killed. You’re a selfish woman. You need to leave Savage.
The forest turned to brambles that sliced at her and forced her to stop running. Vines grabbed her arms, held her tight then spun her around.
The ghost floated in the air. She wore a red dress. She had large blue eyes and her blond hair swirled around her shoulders. She was beautiful, but wore a pained expression.
She opened her mouth as though trying to speak. Then suddenly her neck arched, and black smoke poured from her mouth.
The sight was so horrifying, Kiara awoke from the nightmare and sat up. She put a hand to her throat. She looked at her arms to see if she’d been cut, but it had only been a dream. A terrifying dream.
She lay back down staring up at her burrow ceiling. She’d needed not to feel as though she lay in a cave, so she’d had part of the rock framed with a diagonal collection of reclaimed wood. Somehow it eased her to let her eye follow the three-inch strips of different colored planks.
Her heart was still rocketing. She put a palm between her breasts. She should be used to Five Bridges by now having lived here for three years.
She may have been caught in a dream but parts of it had been real. The woman was a ghost and ghosts often visitedalterpeople in dreams.
She’d never told anyone, but this was a recurring experience, one she’d had several times since she’d recovered from the poisoned torture at Veyda’s hands. This ghost had come to her repeatedly, always intent on frightening her and warning her away from Warren and Savage.
She turned her head on her pillow. Warren lay to her right, on his side and facing away from her. The sheet only covered him up to his waist, so she had a view of his extraordinary back. She noticed this about wolves, males especially, that they had powerful shoulders and heavily muscled arms and backs. She supposed it was from shifting, leaping and running the way they loved to do.
She’d followed Warren many times in her invisible state. He would often run belowground on the enormous track he’d built for his entire pack to use at the Caldion compound. This track had been a small feat of engineering with numerous massive boulders and a few piles of smaller ones the wolves could race up and down. Four paws created a vast amount of traction.
She’d been amazed to watch him and the other wolves run.
Though the rise and fall of his steady breathing reminded her he needed his rest, she was tempted to run her hands over his body just for the pleasure of it.
But she knew Warren. He would wake up if he felt her touch, so she contented herself with turning on her side to face his back, both her hands planted beneath her cheek.
Warren.
Her eyes grew hot with tears. She was overcome as she thought about what it had been like to make love with him. He was a storm and she a grotto. She smiled, but the curve of her lips quickly faded.
What if the ghost in her dreams was right, the unknown woman with long blond hair? What if she was simply trying to warn Kiara that she posed a threat to Warren? Wouldn’t leaving Savage behind be best for him? For her?
Her throat tightened. She didn’t know, but the thought of leaving him hurt badly as though powerful hands gripped her insides and twisted hard. Again, the compulsion to touch him had her hand sliding away from her cheek and extending her fingers toward him.
Again, she held back.
She adjusted her pillow instead then released a sigh. She knew what she had to do. As soon as Warren was safe, she would leave Savage for good. She’d never thought she had a real future with him and his safety was paramount.
~ ~ ~
Late in the afternoon, Warren sat on the side of Kiara’s bed striving to wake up. He had his hands planted on his knees and he stared at the striations in the earthen floor. The humidity of the nearby grotto was a relief.
Events of the previous night had taken a toll. They moved through his head like a video on a constant loop, of coming off his Border Patrol shift, escaping from Julio and the forces aligned with him, then going invisible with Kiara. Later, of course, there was all the storm sex and his decision to disengage from her as soon as possible.
