Chapter 6

Jenna

The gentle breeze carries the sweet scent of wildflowers, a soothing caress against my flushed cheeks. As I wander the winding paths that snake through the Thorne estate's lush grounds, my mind can't help but drift back to the smoldering embers that consumed the only home I've ever known.

A lump forms in my throat as the memory of that night resurfaces—the scorching orange glow reflecting in the tears that streamed down my face, the smell of smoke, and the sickening realization that everything I held dear was reduced to ash. My fingers instinctively curl into fists, nails digging into my palms.

With a shaky exhale, I force myself to uncurl my fingers, letting the tension seep out of my muscles. I need to move forward, find a new place to call home. But the thought of apartment hunting feels overwhelming.

It's not just the thought of my lost home that's weighing on me right now. There's an undeniable attraction simmering between Ryan Thorne and me, an electrifying spark that has my pulse fluttering every time our eyes meet.

From his side, it seems rooted in pure, carnal desire—the kind of scorching lust that has his gaze lingering a little too long on the curves of my body. I can understand the allure; the chemistry between us is intoxicating, potent enough to short-circuit even the most level-headed thoughts.

But for me, I want more than just a fleeting physical connection. I crave the intimacy that comes from truly knowing someone, from baring your soul. Yet that terrifies me as much as it entices, because losing loved ones has left wounds that may never fully heal.

It's a terrible conundrum with no easy answers. Part of me longs to surrender to the magnetic pull between us, while the other part is desperate to protect what little remains of my heart.

For a few blissful minutes, I'm able to empty my mind, focusing only on the present moment - the warmth of the sun filtering through the canopy, the earthy scent of damp soil and decaying leaves, the melodic gurgling of the stream. Peace settles over me like a soft, comforting blanket.

A slight rustle in the undergrowth has me glancing up. At first, I see nothing out of the ordinary. But then a massive wolf emerges from the shadows beneath a gnarled oak, rich brown fur rippling like liquid silk over its powerful frame.

As I watch with wide eyes, the wolf's form begins to shift and contort. Its snout shortens, thick fur receding as human features emerge. Within moments, a man is standing before me, tall and powerfully built with sinewy muscle rippling beneath bronzed skin.

Oh sweet heavens...

It's Ryan.

The man is a sculptural masterpiece, like one of Michelangelo's creations brought to life—all sinewy muscle and bronzed skin stretched taut over a body carved from granite. My appreciative gaze rakes over the ridges of his abdomen, the corded strength of his thighs, the broad expanse of his chest dusted with a spattering of dark hair...

Heat flares in my cheeks as it dawns on me that I'm gawking like a lovesick teenager, and I tear my eyes away, my heart thundering an erratic staccato against my ribs. Unbidden, images of that powerful frame pinning me beneath him flash through my mind, and a new kind of ache blossoms low in my belly.

Get a grip, Jenna!

From the corner of my eye, I glimpse movement as Ryan reaches for something tucked behind the hollow of a gnarled oak—a bundle of clothing, I realize with a mixture of relief and disappointment. My eyes can't seem to resist flickering back toward him as he tugs on a pair of loose sweatpants, my teeth sinking into my lower lip.

A soft chuckle rumbles from his chest, and I tear my eyes away, suddenly fascinated by the intricate patterns of the moss-covered stones at my feet. "There are stashes of clothes scattered around the pack lands," he explains, his voice a deep, velvety caress that does nothing to calm the raging desire swirling within me.

"I didn't mean to intrude," I mumble, the words emerging slightly breathless as I struggle to rein in the raging torrent of emotions and urges swirling within me.

One dark brow arches in response as Ryan levels that scorching stare at me once more, seeming to drink me in with those molten eyes. "And yet, you're still here." His voice is a deep, gruff rumble that vibrates straight through me, resonating in the most deliciously unsettling way. There's an edge to his tone, something raw and untamed lurking beneath the surface.

A frisson of anticipation dances along my nerves, and I swallow hard, my tongue suddenly thick and clumsy in my mouth. "I didn't realize you were here," I manage after a moment.

One corner of Ryan's lips curves into the barest hint of a smile that somehow seems more lupine than human. "It's pack land," he rumbles, taking a few measured steps toward me until scarcely an arm's length separates us. "Which means its here for anyone."

The rich, earthy scent that clings to his bare skin is utterly intoxicating at this proximity, filling my senses and muddling my thoughts into a heady jumble. Is it just my imagination, or does he seem to be leaning imperceptibly closer with each passing heartbeat?

"You're the wolf I saw the other night," I blurt out, heat flooding my cheeks at the memory of my vulnerability, my raw anguish laid bare before him.

A flicker of something—regret? Shame?—passes across his features before he gives a solemn nod. "I didn't mean to intrude on such a private moment. I just..." He trails off, running a hand through his tousled locks. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

My heart constricts at the unexpected tenderness in his voice, at the concern etched into the lines of his face. In that moment, I see past the gruff exterior, past the alpha bravado, and catch a glimpse of the man beneath—a man haunted by ghosts of his own.

"What's wrong, Ryan?" The words slip out before I can stop them, my voice barely above a whisper.

He stiffens, those broad shoulders tensing as if bracing for a blow. For a heartbeat, I think he's going to brush me off, erect those impenetrable walls once more. But then, something shifts in his eyes, a flicker of vulnerability that steals my breath away.

"It's the anniversary of my aunt Carol's death," he murmurs, his gaze distant, haunted. "And... well, it's still fresh, even after all this time." A muscle twitches in his jaw, betraying the depth of his pain.

My brow furrows, and I tilt my head, considering him. There's a depth of sorrow in his words that tugs at my heartstrings, a glimpse into the man behind the gruff exterior.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask gently, patting the moss-covered log in invitation.

He hesitates, conflict flickering across his chiseled features. For a moment, I think he'll rebuff me, retreat back into the safety of his stoic facade. But then, surprising us both, he sinks onto the log beside me, leaving a respectable distance between us.

Ryan's jaw tightens, and he stares into the distance, lost in memories I can only imagine. "Fifteen years ago, my aunt Carol was killed by a group of humans who despised our kind." His voice takes on a hard edge, laced with bitterness and pain. "She was one of the kindest souls you'd ever meet, and they slaughtered her out of ignorance and fear."

A knot forms in my throat as the gravity of his words sinks in. To lose someone so senselessly, so violently... my heart aches for the young man he must have been, forced to grapple with such a devastating tragedy.

"Ryan, I'm so sorry," I murmur, resisting the urge to reach out and offer a comforting touch. Something tells me he wouldn't welcome it, not yet.

He shakes his head, jaw clenched. "That's not the worst of it." A muscle ticks in his cheek as he struggles to maintain his composure. "My cousin, Theodore, was there that night. He witnessed the whole thing."

A startled gasp escapes my lips as the pieces click into place. The rift between the packs, the lingering animosity - it all stems from that one horrific event.

Ryan's hands clench into white-knuckled fists, and I can practically feel the anguish rolling off him in waves. "After that night, he changed. The carefree boy I grew up with, my best friend... he was gone, replaced by this seething, vengeful creature consumed by hatred."

"I'm so sorry you lost him," I whisper, wishing I could shoulder some of the burden he carries. "That kind of trauma... it changes people in ways we can't fathom."

"He's not dead, not physically. But the person I knew, the one I considered a brother..." He trails off, shaking his head. "It's like that part of him is gone forever, and sometimes, the loss feels even more profound."

My heart constricts at the raw anguish in his voice, at the pain etched into the lines of his face. Without a second thought, I lean toward him, wrapping my arms around his solid frame and pulling him close.

For a heartbeat, he remains rigid, every muscle taut with surprise. But then, slowly, he melts into my embrace, his arms snaking around my waist as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. A shuddering breath escapes his lips, his body trembling against mine as the dam finally breaks, unleashing a torrent of grief and anguish he has held at bay for far too long.

Tears prick at my own eyes as I hold him, my fingers combing soothingly through his tousled locks. In this moment, I realize just how deeply we've both been wounded by loss. Yet Ryan's willingness to bare his soul, to share his pain with me, speaks volumes about the trust blossoming between us.

I'm grateful for the chance to offer him comfort, just as he did for me in my darkest hour. Cradling his powerful frame, I'm struck by the tenderness that blooms in my chest—a warmth that extends far beyond mere physical attraction.

Gradually, his trembling subsides, and he pulls back just enough to gaze into my eyes. Desire, longing, vulnerability... and something deeper shines in his eyes, igniting a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, he's beginning to feel the same profound connection.

A tremor courses through him, and for a heartbeat, I fear I've overstepped, shattered the fragile bond we've forged. But then, with agonizing slowness, he leans in, resting his forehead against mine in tender intimacy.

Our mingled breaths hang in the charged air between us, and I'm acutely aware of the heat emanating from his body, the masculine scent of pine and musk that surrounds me. This close, I can see the flecks of gold that dance amid the cobalt depths of his eyes, endless pools that beckon me to drown in their depths.

A tremor courses through me as the energy shifts, the tender moment morphing into something darker, richer, ignited by the simmering spark that has been flickering between us. Ryan's gaze drops to my parted lips, and I see his throat work in a convulsive swallow.

"Jenna..." he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that resonates through me. "You don't know what you're offering."

Slowly, as if moving through molasses, I reach out to trace the hard plane of his chest, marveling at the heat that scorches my fingertips, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against my palm. Ryan inhales sharply, his abdomen tensing beneath my touch, but he doesn't retreat or rebuff my exploration.

Emboldened, I let my hand glide upward, over the swell of his pectoral, the thick corded muscles of his neck, until I'm cradling the sharp line of his jaw. His eyes narrow to blazing amber slits, sparking with an intensity that should terrify me, but instead sends a delicious shiver of anticipation skating down my spine.

"I think I do," I breathe.

Then his hand is fisting in my hair, anchoring me in place. The breath stutters in my lungs as every nerve ending in my body ignites, scorched by the blazing heat that rolls off him in waves. His mouth slants over mine in a searing, devouring kiss that obliterates any shred of coherent thought.

I'm drowning, consumed by the taste and scent and feel of him—a firestorm of pure masculine potency. My fingers clutch at the rippling muscles of his back, his shoulders, desperate to draw him closer, deeper, until there's no space between us at all. A rumbling growl vibrates against my lips, and I realize with a dizzying jolt that the sound is emanating from the depths of my own throat.

Ryan breaks the kiss with a harsh curse, his forehead dropping to rest against mine as our ragged pants mingle in the charged air between us. "Bloody hell," he grits out hoarsely. "I can scent the desire rolling off you in waves, Jenna. It's maddening…"

His words are swallowed by another searing kiss, this one edged with a desperate urgency that has me trembling in his embrace. Deft fingers work at the fastenings of my clothes, stripping away the flimsy barriers until I lay bare before him, my body humming with a delicious ache only he can sate.

Ryan's gaze rakes over me with a ferocity that borders on savage. His large hands skim the curves of my body, palms rough against my skin. "You're exquisite," he murmurs, his voice a low, guttural growl that sends shivers cascading down my spine. Then, with a gentleness that belies his towering strength, he eases me onto the plush carpet of moss beneath us.

He lowers his head, capturing one taut nipple between his lips. His tongue swirls around the sensitive peak, sending jolts of pleasure shooting straight to my core. I arch into his touch, a needy whimper escaping my lips as his fingers continue their exploration, tracing the contours of my ribcage, the dip of my navel, the flare of my hips.

"I need to taste you," Ryan groans, his breath hot against my skin. Before I can respond, he is trailing kisses down my stomach, his hands parting my thighs with a possessive urgency that leaves me gasping.

His tongue delves into my folds, lapping at the evidence of my arousal with a fervor that borders on worship. I writhe beneath him, my fingers tangling in his hair as he expertly coaxes me toward the brink of ecstasy. His groans of approval vibrate against my sensitive flesh, each rumble stoking the fire within me higher and higher.

My climax hits me with the force of a tidal wave, my body convulsing with the intensity of my release. Ryan's arms band around my thighs, holding me in place as he wrings every last ounce of pleasure from my quivering form.

As the tremors subside, Ryan crawls up my body, his eyes dark with desire. He claims my mouth in a searing kiss, the taste of my own arousal mingling with the intoxicating flavor that is uniquely him.

"I want you inside me," I breathe, my hands roaming the corded muscles of his back, urging him closer.

With a growl that resonates deep within my soul, Ryan positions himself at my entrance. He pushes forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in one powerful thrust. The sensation of his thick length filling me is almost too much to bear, yet it is exactly what I crave.

He sets a punishing rhythm, each stroke stoking the embers of desire that still smolder within me. His teeth graze the sensitive skin of my neck, nipping and sucking as if he can't get enough of me. The sensation is deliciously overwhelming, a tantalizing blend of pleasure and pain that has me teetering on the edge once more.

"Ryan, please," I beg, my voice a hoarse whisper as I cling to him, my body coiling with tension.

His response is another deep, growling rumble that seems to reverberate through every cell in my body. His hands roam my form, gripping my hips with bruising intensity as he increases the pace, driving us both toward the precipice of release.

My second orgasm crashes over me with the force of a freight train, my inner muscles clenching around him as stars explode behind my closed eyelids. Ryan follows me over the edge with a final, powerful thrust, his body shuddering as he finds his own release deep within me.

Afterwards, we lay tangled in the aftermath of our passionate embrace, chests heaving and skin shimmering with a fine sheen of perspiration. Ryan's arms are a solid anchor, holding me close as if afraid to let me go, to let this moment slip away into the ephemeral realm of dreams.

His fingers trace idle patterns along the curve of my hip, raising delicious shivers that have nothing to do with the crisp forest air caressing our sweat-dampened skin.

"I want to take care of you," he murmurs, the words a low rumble. There's an undercurrent of something deeper, richer in his tone – a promise, a vow, that sends my heart thundering against my ribs. "But don't tell anyone about this, love," he adds. "Not yet, at least. I don't want them judging you for being human."

I nod my acquiescence. For now, all I want is to bask in the afterglow cradled in Ryan's arms, the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my cheek.