Chapter 5

CHAPTER FIVE

F or one horrible, amazing, impossible moment, Logan had truly thought that she was back. He'd thought Lark was here, with him, within reach. He'd wanted the past six years to be nothing but a horrible nightmare, so much so that he had actually let himself believe it was her.

Because that was the only way the mating bond sparking to life inside of him made sense. It had to be Lark. It had always been Lark.

But then reality had hit him as squarely as the shove to the chest and his brain had kickstarted enough to notice all the differences in the woman before him and the woman he had loved and lost.

She was taller for one, only a few inches shorter than him, and she wasn't curvy like Lark had been. She was thin, with an athletic, runner's body, showcased by the black tights and gray sports bra she wore. The outfit left little to the imagination, hugging every inch of her long legs and leaving what seemed like miles of her warm, golden brown skin on display. Her hair was jet black, just as Lark's had been, but it was pulled into a sleek ponytail and the strands around her face had escaped and curled with the heat and sweat of her workout. Her face, a portrait in sharp angles, was flushed red, either from exertion or anger, and somehow he thought it only made her prettier when her dark as midnight eyes flashed gold at him.

His wolf growled at that glimpse of his other half, wanting to be set free, wanting his mate, not knowing or caring that it was Wren, not Lark.

Logan hated himself for the attraction that he still felt towards her even after the realization. Hated that he had even noticed how beautiful she was. He hated that fate had tricked him and he hated that he could already feel the need for her creeping inside of him and making him yearn to touch her again. And he hated that she looked like she might throttle him if he tried.

Wren. This was Wren. Lark's younger sister. The middle sister of the Culvert family. The one who had sometimes tagged along with Lark when they went out with their friends or covered for her big sister when she snuck out to see him. This was Wren Culvert, but not the doe-eyed kid he remembered at all, instead she looked wary and angry all at the same time and he couldn't blame her for the reaction to him any more than he could stop feeling guilty for his own.

Fate had a cruel sense of humor if she thought he and Wren would make a good pair. It wasn't just unlikely. It was impossible, or it should have been. Because Lark had been his mate, it was a fact he'd known all his life, clung to for the past six years, and couldn't shake even as everything inside of him yearned to move closer to Wren and his wolf clawed at his insides wanting free in order to claim her as his mate once and for all.

His mate? Wren? No, that couldn't happen. He would not let that happen. No matter what fate was up to, he was still a man and he could still make his own decisions. He could control his wolf. He could control himself. And he would not tie another Culvert woman to him or his fucked-up family.

"I'm sorry." He stepped backwards, trying to put space between them. "I'm so sorry. I… I'll go."

His wolf was not on board with that idea and roared inside his head. Distance was the last thing the wolf wanted but he continued to backpedal. He needed to get away from her, from this place. Coming back had been a terrible decision and this only proved it.

He would go back to the house. He would grab Vivian just as he had six years ago, and he would leave town. He would leave and this time he would never, ever, come back. It didn't matter that his father was dying. It didn't matter that the pack needed him. It couldn't. Because he needed to save himself, and Wren, from fate's foolish games.

"I have to go." He started to turn away but the snap of her voice at his back made him pause.

"That's right. Run away. That's what you do best."

His wolf bristled at the accusation and his head snapped back around instinctively, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Her face was twisted with fury but gods, she was beautiful.

"I'm leaving for your own good, Wren."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"You ran away after Lark's funeral too." She raised a sharp eyebrow, "Was that for my own good, too?"

"No. That was…" He frowned, scrubbed a hand over his face, "I had to go. I couldn't stay. Not after what happened."

"Maybe if you'd thought about what was good for Lark, she'd still be alive."

He swallowed past the lump in his throat her words caused. She stared at him when he remained silent. He couldn't answer her but she didn't know that.

She clearly blamed him for Lark's death, and he didn't mind. He blamed himself too. She looked at him like he was the lowest lifeform she'd ever encountered. Despite the tug of the bond that had sparked between them, she wasn't running even though that should have been her first instinct if she hated him as much as he thought she did. Instead, she was holding her ground and he knew why.

She had questions.

Logan grit his teeth to force the words out, "I can't give you what you want."

"What the hell makes you think you know what I want?" Wren snarled, moving fast, closing the distance between them to shove him again.

He stepped aside, avoiding letting her touch him again, not trusting his animal instinct. Despite everything he knew, he wanted her touch. He welcomed it. But he couldn't have it.

She wasn't his mate. No matter what fate was up to, Wren couldn't be his mate. Lark had been his other half and fate didn't give second chances. He'd lost his chance at a fated mate and even if he'd hoped that someday, maybe, he'd find someone to ease some of his pain and be a companion in his life, he never, ever, could have imagined a pairing as cruel as being bound to Lark's little sister.

"You want answers about what happened to Lark but I don't have any for you and I'm more sorry for that than you'll ever know."

Wren whirled on him, "I don't want your excuses and we both know that's all you have. Besides, I wouldn't believe anything you said anyway. You're a liar."

He couldn't argue with her so he shrugged, "So what do you want? Because I know it's not being bound to me as a mate."

"I am not your mate." Her eyes flashed gold, her wolf belying the words. "I don't know what's going on here but I am not your mate. I'll never be your mate. I'd rather die than be mated to you."

"Don't say that." He winced, her words striking too close to past wounds.

Her dark eyes went wide, nearly manic, and she huffed out an unamused laugh, "Is that what Lark chose? Death over being mated to you? Is that why you killed her?"

The accusation felt like a punch in the teeth and he barely contained his wolf's angry response, "What? No. I loved Lark."

"Yet here we are…" She motioned between them, and Logan growled, losing his tenuous grip on his temper.

"You think I want this any more than you do? I don't. I loved Lark. She was supposed to be my mate. Not you. It was never supposed to be you. This spark, the bond, whatever the hell it is? This is just fate's cruel joke, as if giving me you would somehow replace what I lost."

"Being mated to you wouldn't be a joke. It would be a punishment." Wren snarled back at him, moving closer. "I hate you."

"Good." he snapped close to her face, "You can join the club because I hate me too."

"Well at least we have that in common." Wren's eyes flared gold as she spit her anger at him but Logan's wolf was too close to the surface, too raw and irrational, and he lunged for her.

In the blink of an eye Logan's hand was at her throat. He pressed her against the brick wall and his mouth was suddenly on hers. The kiss was wild and out of control. The fury between them was a living, breathing fire and their lips stoked it higher and higher as they crashed together. It wasn't sweet or even nice. It was full of hate and anger and a longing as vast and deep as the galaxy itself.

He didn't understand it. He didn't think he would ever understand it. But he felt the bond between them, throbbing as surely as his heart thumped in his chest.

His wolf all but purred when the taste of her spread through him. She was warm cinnamon, his favorite, as if she'd been made with him in mind. It had been so long since he'd felt this close to someone, anyone, and even though it was all wrong, it felt strangely right.

She smelled of sweat and lavender, sending all kinds of erotic thoughts through his mind. He imagined her in his bed, lavender sheets and the scent of their lovemaking in the air. He swore he could feel their sweat warmed bodies sliding together, fitting together, like two puzzle pieces that had been made for each other.

It was fate playing tricks in his mind. It was the mating heat driving him crazy. It was the bond desperately prodding him to complete the process and make her his. It was intense and uncontrollable and he hated just how good it felt, hated that he knew she'd only hate him more for this need that couldn't be denied.

Logan kissed her harder and she kissed him back, her tongue stroking against his, causing him to groan. She gave as good as she got. Her nails dug into the flesh at the back of his neck where she'd wrapped her arms around him and sent pain shooting through him that somehow only made his wolf hungrier for her.

He liked the pain. Knew he deserved it. Wanted to let her take all of her anger out on him. He tightened his grip on her throat, holding her in place for the assault of his kiss but she came back at him with teeth this time.

Her teeth sank into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and he winced, jerking away from her. The sharp pain and gulp of fresh air was enough to break the spell of the desperate mating heat that had taken hold of him. He stumbled backwards, trying to regain his bearings and think rationally but when he raised his fingers to his mouth and saw them come away bloody a shiver ran down his spine.

His gaze jerked back to where Wren stood slumped against the wall. She was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling, choppy and uneven. Her dark eyes went wide with horror again as she instinctively licked her lip and tasted his blood. They flashed gold and a whimper escaped her. He fought the urge to go to her, to comfort her, knowing it was the last thing she would want, knowing that it would only make this whole thing worse.

"No." She covered her mouth as she shook her head, "No, no, no."

The realization of what just happened was sinking in and she looked like she wanted to cry. It hadn't been a claiming bite, not by a longshot. They'd need to use their animals for that. But she'd drawn blood, his blood, tasted it, and now the burgeoning connection between them would grow faster and stronger.

It was a tangible link between them that fate would use to bind them together the way she wanted… even if neither of them did.

"Wren…" He held out a hand, trying to offer some sort of reassurance but she shrank back from him.

"I… can't…" she stammered and then, before he could say anything else, she turned and ran down the alley, away from him.

She ran away, just as she had accused him of trying to do. Logan stood where he was despite the urge to chase after her. His wolf howled with every step she put between them but he would not go after her. He would let her go, just as he should have let Lark go all those years ago instead of holding on to the memory of someone he wasn't even sure had really existed.

Seeing Wren tonight, feeling the bond begin to form between them, it changed things, changed him. But it didn't change the past or the mistakes he had made. He'd ruined one Culvert girl and he would carry that burden for the rest of his life. He would not make the same mistake again.

This time, he would leave before he could hurt her, or at least before he could hurt her any more than he already had. He would do the right thing. He would reject the bond, fight fate, leave Shadow Pines and go as far away as he could get. He would do that, for her.

He owed her at least that much… since he couldn't tell her the truth about Lark.