Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The canopy of leaves above me only slightly dimmed the light of the moon. I could still easily navigate the forest floor, dodging the errant tree root. After second-guessing my sense of direction a few times, I heard the babbling of the stream and smiled as I saw the mulberry, its leaves fluttering in the breeze. Far enough from other trees, the mulberry stood alone under the moonlight, like a spotlight shone one it.

Sitting cross-legged next to the sapling, I unzipped my backpack and removed my journal and pencil. There was enough light from the sky that I could see the tree clearly and got to work sketching and taking notes about the foliage surrounding it. The sounds of my drawing mixed with the sounds of the forest, the rustling of the leaves in tune with the scratch of my pencil against the paper of my journal. A warm gust of air juxtaposed the coolness of the forest, lifting the hairs on the back of my neck. My pencil paused, mid mark.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone.” Everett’s voice filled my ears.

I stood, turning to face him. How had he known I was out here? Had he come looking for me in my tent, only to find it empty?

He stood beneath the light of the moon. It highlighted his dark features, casting shadows beneath his eyes and accentuating the bulges of the muscles in his arms. I swallowed, my throat visibly bobbing. My mind flew back to Thursday night and the feeling of his fangs dragging over my neck.

“Do you need something?”

“I just wanted to check on you,” he said.

“Check on me? I’m not the one who was unconscious yesterday. How is your arm?”

Without thinking, I stepped in front of him, grabbing onto his arm to examine the injury, tiny zaps danced over my fingertips as I touched his skin. Maybe I wasn’t imagining them because Everett recoiled slightly at my touch.

His wound was healing beautifully. Only a small line of open flesh remained, surrounded by new pink skin. “Amazing,” I murmured.

“I heard you had a run-in with my father,” Everett said.

Someone from the tent last night must have told him. Did he thought me weak for not being able to speak or even move in front of his father? I shuddered, remembering of his presence, looking away.

Everett reached his arms out and rubbed my arms up and down in a soothing motion. His hard, calloused hands felt rough against my smooth skin. “I don’t want you to even think of my father,” he said. “He’s nothing but a sad man who uses his power to intimidate those with less. Let me handle him.”

I let out a breath, releasing some of the tension that I had been holding since last night.

“I brought something for you.” Everett pulled a small, clear bag of brown dust from his pocket.

I reached out for it, and holding it up at eye level, I immediately had an idea what it was. I knelt down and dug through my backpack, finding the jar of similar brown dust I had collected Friday before I’d gotten stuck within the wards. Holding the two side by side, there was no debating that they were the same plant.

“How did you know I was collecting samples of this? Where did you find this?” My curiosities overrode the tension for a moment.

He squatted down next to me. “I saw the jars of the plant in your bag when you were digging for water in the forest yesterday. It looked the same as the plants I’ve been seeing dying all over my territory.”

“ Your territory?”

“Yes, my territory. This is all my pack’s territory. We’re hosting the Deca Tournament this year.”

“See, I thought this was a national forest—you know, owned by the government.” I had never heard of land owned by the Cedar Moon Pack, let alone any other shifter.

“We let them use the land, as long as they take care of it.” Everett seemed to have an answer for everything.

I held up the jar and bag. “Looks like someone isn’t taking care of it.”

“For the last two years, the brown rot has spread,” he explained. “My father didn’t believe the extent of the problem until he came here for the tournament and saw it himself. He claims that there’s an imbalance. Too much death and not enough life present in my forest. I don’t know what’s causing it.” A look of desperation came across his face as he spoke. “The land is slowly dying. My land is slowly dying. The pack’s land is slowly dying. And I can’t figure out why.”

Everett didn’t have an answer for this one. Even I didn’t know what the cause was, and I was supposed to be an expert on these things. Professor Robinson had my samples, but I wouldn’t get those results until the next time he visited.

“I’m looking into it,” I said. Everett nodded, accepting my answer. “Can I keep this?” I held up the plastic bag as he nodded again. I tucked away the samples in my backpack. Standing back up, I found he was only one step away from me, his foot on top of the red-mulberry tree.

“Everett!” I screamed, pushing his chest with both of my hands. His body didn’t move. “Get off my tree!”

Everett looked down at where his boot was pressing down on the sapling’s trunk. “Shit!” He lifted his foot tree taking several steps back. “I didn’t mean to step on it. I wasn’t paying?—”

“All this talk about saving your land, and you go around squishing baby trees under your foot.”

I went into damage control, assessing the situation. The tree hadn’t snapped under the pressure of Everett’s boot because its root system was undeveloped. But the roots of the tree stuck out from the dirt exposed to the elements as the tree lay on horizontally on the ground, and the bark was missing where Everett’s boot had pressed. My fingers ran along a three-inch oval of raw tree. Less than twenty-five percent missing. This was good. Anything over that would be a death sentence. The tree still needed help, though. My hand dug deep into the earth, re-digging the hole that Kleio had previously made with her claws.

Warm hands wrapped around my wrist. “I can help,” Everett said, his golden eyes looking into mine.

Maybe it was because it was late and I was tired, but I lost it. “I think you’ve done enough. Do you know how long it took me to save this tree the first time? Gavrill gave his blood to the tree, for god’s sake.”

I scooped more ferociously, flinging dirt behind me like a dog digging a hole for its bone. Once the hole was deep enough, I tipped the tree back vertically, settling the roots back in the soil. The tree tipped, still unstable as I brushed dirt from in the hole. “Damnit!” I held the tree with upright with one hand and used the other to drag the surrounding dirt toward the trunk.

Everett’s large hands, like bulldozers, pushed piles of dirt into the hole, filling it quickly. I kneeled there holding the tree up while he worked.

“Let me help you,” his voice was calm, opposite of how I was feeling.

“It lost a lot of bark underneath your shoe.”

“What can we do?”

“Well, I can do a technique called bridge grafting to help regrow the bark,” I said. “It might not be enough to save it, but it’s worth a shot.”

Examining the mulberry, I picked a branch from its foliage that looked healthy and had a thick diameter. I snapped the branch off, laying it gently on the ground by my feet. The bridge grafting technique was difficult and not always successful. I had only done it one other time to a maple tree, and it had failed. The technique was just as it sounded—creating a bridge with a branch of the same tree from the top to the bottom of the area of the tree that was exposed. The hope was that the tree would use the branch to grow bark along the “bridge” covering the exposed part of the tree.

I needed to create two notches in the healthy bark for both sides of the bridge to sit. The backpack I had with me didn’t have any of the tools I needed for this complicated procedure. My eyes scanned the surrounding woods, looking for something strong and pointy enough to make the notch.

“Let me help you.” Those four words again came from Everett’s lips.

I looked down at the poor sapling and at my hands, covered in dirt, then at Everett’s eyes. He seemed sincere, like he actually wanted to help me.

“Can you use your…” I made a claw motion with my hand.

“Claws? Sure I can.” Everett flexed his hand, a long, sharp black claw extending from each of his five fingers.

“You just need one.” I held up my finger. Everett did the same, all the claws retracting except the one on his right index finger.

I showed him where to carve the two notches and warned him not to go too deep into the sapwood. He stood right next to me, our bodies almost touching. He hadn’t cleaned up since coming back from hunting, but he still smelled the same—fresh and clean, like the first day of spring. I breathed in his scent, letting it settle in my lungs.

Everett was careful with his carving. If I was less annoyed with him, I might have told him he had a future in conservation. Instead I just extended the branch to Everett, explaining that he needed to cut a wedge into each end. I held the branch while he wrapped with his non-clawed hand around my wrist, keeping me steady. My arm stopped trembling as he did so. Had I been shaking?

His sharp claw made quick work of the cuts, diagonally cutting each end. I took a breath in as I watched him let go of my wrist, my skin now cold. He stared down at me intensely. My breath caught in my throat as he traced the top of my cheekbone, following it all the way to my mouth. His fingers lingered on my bottom lip, slowly outlining it. I couldn’t look away from his swirling eyes, and I felt the thread again, pulling me in.

I tugged against the thread, unwilling to let it reel me in. “Now we need to insert it into the notches you made,” I said.

I turned away from Everett, leaving his hand floating in the air where my face had been. My backpack had many odds and ends in it that I randomly needed in the field, and I knew I had push pins in there somewhere.

Finding them quickly, I crouched down next to the mulberry. This tree had been through a lot in the past few days. I inserted the wedged ends of the branch into the notches Everett had created. It fit perfectly, bending the branch into a slight bow shape, like an actual bridge. I pinned each end of the branch into the tree to keep it in place. Hopefully in a few weeks, there would be new bark growth and the tree would survive.

As I backed away from the tree, I turned around to find Everett right behind me. Instinctively, I put my hands on his chest, separating our bodies. I could see the tiny white lines that crossed his neck like tally marks. His neck was scarred like the tree we’d just saved.

“Thank you for saving the tree.” Everett didn’t have to speak loudly. Our bodies were so close.

“Well, that’s my job.” I tried to act unaffected by his kind words, but it was becoming hard, my body responding to his. I didn’t want to pull away.

“I can tell you really care for the forest like I do.”

“Of course I do—that’s why I’m here,” I said, replying automatically, my gaze finding where his tattoos peeked out of the top of his crew neck T-shirt. They looked tribal style with thick swirls and loops.

“I think you’re here for more than that.”

I watched his neck as he spoke, his skin vibrating with the deep tone of his voice. My hand reached out to trace what I could of the tattoos along his neck. I had wanted to touch them since Thursday night at the bar.

As soon as my fingers contacted his skin, everything around us became fuzzy. My ears could no longer hear anything except our joint breathing and the increasing heartbeat in my chest. I moved slowly along the dark tattoo, casually dipping my fingers under his shirt before I found a new swirl to follow. He was warm and his skin was soft. I was close enough to his heart that I could feel the strong beat.

Everett’s finger caught under my chin, bringing my face up to meet his. His dark pupils dilated in stark contrast to the gold irises that surrounded them. The thread pulled tighter, and I leaned into him, my hand now resting flat against his firm chest.

He groaned before he crashed his lips into mine. I opened my mouth immediately, ready for his tongue. His hand found his way behind my head to brace my neck for his rough kiss. I draped my arms around the back of his neck, pulling our bodies closer together. His kisses were like a drug. They had me needy and unable to quit. It was amazing how well our bodies meshed now that they were fully touching. Our size difference made no difference in our ability to fit together. My hips fit snuggly between his thighs, and my breasts found comfort right under his pectoral muscles.

I was in a daze as Everett and I exchanged unrestrained kisses. Nothing mattered to me except getting closer, pulling the thread tighter until it wrapped around both of our bodies. Instinctually, my body ground against his, needing friction. Purrs of delight left my lips as I felt the hard arousal through his pants rubbing against my stomach.

Everett let out a growl as he broke the kiss and put some space between our bodies. I let whimpered, trying to pull my body close to his again. He grabbed onto my hip bones with both hands and firmly kept the distance between us, separating the parts of our bodies that needed the contact the most.

Our foreheads were still touching. Nose-to-nose, we breathed each other’s air, unable to get enough.

“Did you feel that?” Everett’s voice was strained. His eyes searched mine for confirmation.

I wasn’t sure what he was asking. I had felt many things. I was still feeling them.

“Feel what?” I asked.

“The pull between us.”

I leaned back slightly, and Everett pulled me back until our bodies were touching. He leaned down, meeting my eyes, searching. Neither of us could deny there was something between us. It was raw and electric.

“To me, it’s like we’re being pulled closer and closer together with an invisible thread,” I said. That was the only way I could describe the attraction between us.

Everett let out a sigh of relief, and his face relaxed. “I feel that too.”

Keeping one hand on my hip, his other hand cradled the back of my skull as he put his face between my neck and shoulder. I leaned my head to the side to give him better access. His warm face fit perfectly in the sunken spot along my collarbone. As he nuzzled my skin, I heard his lips part as he planted soft kisses along my shoulder and neck. Rough, his beard scratched my sensitive skin.

I wrapped my arms around his back, unable to touch fingertips because of his size. My body betrayed me when he opened his mouth and let his fangs drag along my neck. The moan I let out was louder than it needed to be. I was sure the entire camp could hear it, even as we were out here in the woods. At the moment, I didn’t care. Heat traveled from the skin where his fangs touched down to the pit of my stomach and pooled between my legs. I tensed with the pulsing need that rushed through me.

“Lyka,” Everett whispered against my skin as he sniffed his nose along my neck. My sudden realization that I hadn’t showered in a couple days caused me to push away from Everett. Self-conscious, I looked down at my feet.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, lifting my chin again to meet my eyes.

“I just realized I probably smell horrible,” I said.

Everett’s eyes crinkled, and a smirk crossed his lips. He pulled me close once again, stuck his nose to my neck, and inhaled deeply. His voice vibrated against me. “I smell nothing but your desire for me. It’s quite potent. I’m sure the shifters back at Camp can smell it too,” he said.

Pushing away from him, my eyes grew wide and I was sure my face turned the darkest shade of red. I could feel wetness pooling between my legs. Wishing I had packed an extra pair of leggings, I looked straight at him. “You can’t.”

“I most certainly can.” His eyes closed slightly as he leaned in. I could feel his warm breath against my ear. “And it smells delicious.”

I squeezed my legs together to stop the pulsing between them, which only made it worse. My knees buckled, and Everett caught me around the waist, pulling me close for another kiss. I let out more embarrassing sounds that he muffled with his mouth.

We were hungry for each other. His hands never strayed beyond the back of my head or my waist, and that made me feel even more deprived. I needed him to touch me. Moving my legs apart, I straddled one of his thighs. My hands wrapped around his torso and pulled him closer to me. I was like a wild animal, grinding against his quad muscle, trying to relieve the tension.

Everett groaned against my neck. His fangs dragged across my skin. My body tensed at the feeling. I froze, my breath hitching in my chest. He froze as well. The lack of movement between us broke the spell.

I pushed him away. No, I couldn’t be doing this with him. I couldn’t get more entangled with him more than I already was. It would only cause problems for me in the long run.

What was wrong with me? I felt both frustrated and sexually charged at the same time. It was quite the combination.

He glanced longingly up and down my body. “What are you doing to me?” he asked, rubbing his chin.

“Too much. I’m doing too much.” I tried to control my heart rate. “I can’t be doing this with you,” I said.

He took a step close to me and slowly took a deep inhale, running his nose from my shoulder and up my neck. I stood there, trying not to let a moan escape me. Everett backed up and shook his head with his eyes closed. He turned, putting his hands behind his head and looking up at the sky. “You’re right. Everyone can hear and smell you out here. I don’t like to share.”

It was like a cold bucket of water had dumped over my head. The fuzzy surroundings became clear again, and I looked around the forest, surprised to be there. What was Everett doing to me?

I took a step back and covered my face with my hands. This was so embarrassing. I was in the middle of the forest surrounded by Lycans who could apparently smell me. This wasn’t like me. I prided myself on being controlled, especially with my emotions.

“Should we head back?” Everett held out his hand like he expected me to hold it.

I planted my fists along my sides and marched past him, heading in the direction I hoped would lead me back to Camp. I heard Everett’s footsteps behind me.

“Wrong way, Lyka,” he said.

I stopped marching, not willing to look behind me. His voice sounded smug. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how deeply red my face was. I waited until I heard him walking away the opposite direction to turn and follow him.

Everett turned around to glance my way. I gave him the meanest look I could muster, which wasn’t all that mean. He smirked and continued to lead me back to Camp.