Hunted By Firelight by Krista Street

Chapter 11

~ AVERY ~

Bavar showed us to the room that Wyatt and I would be sharing during our time at Shrouding Estate. My heart raced, thumping like a rabbit at the embarrassing way I’d just acted.

Seriously, what was wrong with me?

Bavar entered the room with us, and as soon as we stepped into the chambers, I used the impressive display to distract me. The room was so large that I imagined an entire family could live comfortably here.

On the far wall, a four-poster bed, bigger than any I’d ever seen before—well, as far as I was aware with my lack of memories—stood resolutely with thick wooden columns rising from each corner of the bed to support the canopy above.

Gauzy curtains hung from the top, pulled back and secured to the posts with braided silk tassels. And the actual bed, while much bigger than I’d ever need, looked more comfortable than seemed necessary.

A mountain of pillows rested against the headboard, and I itched to feel the pale lavender fabric that looked as soft as silk yet made of the finest cotton. The top comforter looked so fluffy and comfy that I wanted to jump on it and see how far I would sink.

Of course, I didn’t. I’d done enough to embarrass myself, but just as I was about to turn away, I paused and studied the bed. Something tickled the back of my mind.

Four-poster.

Canopy.

Mahogany wood.

“Is everything all right?” Wyatt shifted closer to my side, moving in that silent way of his.

“Yes. I mean, I think so. It’s just that the bed . . . it seems familiar. Is that how my bed looks back home?”

He looked at the bed, then me, his expression impossible to read. “What about it looks familiar?”

“Its size, and the canopy with the curtains, and the large posts.” I shook my head. “I don’t know. I feel like I slept in a bed like that, but I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not. It’s like my mind’s constantly playing tricks on me.”

His fingers brushed mine when he stepped closer, but then he pulled back.

My heart snagged at the contact.

“There was a bed similar to this that you recently slept in.” He was still watching me intently.

“There was?”

“Yes, only two nights ago you slept in a bed just like this.”

I frowned, trying to remember, but just like before only blankness greeted me. I sighed heavily in frustration. “I’ll have to take your word on that.”

He continued regarding me, his sharp gaze making my stomach somersault.

I clasped my hands tightly in front of me, trying to control the erratic beating of my heart. Twirling away from him, I surveyed the rest of the room.

Lining one wall, two tall wooden wardrobes sat near a closed door that I assumed went to a bathroom. A small writing table stood next to it with parchment and feathers on its sturdy surface.

By the window, a small circular dining table with two chairs overlooked the fountain below. A pot of herbal tea rested on the table, steam wafting from the spout. A tiered tray filled with small sandwiches, tarts, miniature pies, fruit, and little cakes sat decoratively beside it.

I inhaled, my stomach growling, which I now knew meant I was hungry.

Beside the dining table waited a large fireplace with three couches and two chairs encircling it. If it were cold and snowy outside, one of those couches would be the perfect place to curl up with a book.

But as I finished surveying the extravagant chambers, I realized one large problem existed.

I twirled to Bavar. “There’s only one bed.”

“Indeed there is.”

“But—” I sputtered. “I can’t, um, I mean where will Major Jamison and I—” Dammit. I was sounding like a complete idiot, but there was no way I was sleeping in the same bed with Wyatt. Even if that bed was big enough to sleep five people.

“I’ll sleep on the floor.” Wyatt still watched me so intently that my breath caught.

Bavar casually placed his hands in his pockets. “I can have another bed brought to the room. I’ll ask the servants to see to it after everyone’s baggage is delivered.”

“Baggage?” I cocked my head. “But we didn’t travel with bags.” And it was a good thing we hadn’t. They would have tumbled right off the enchanted carpets given the crazy flying we’d done to escape the sprites.

Amusement filled the fairy commander’s eyes. “Have you not learned that everything has a way of being procured in the fae lands? With enough magic, anything is possible.”

I frowned, not understanding.

“He’ll have everyone’s belongings transported from earth, or in our case, what’s left of our belongings at the inn,” Wyatt explained.

“Then why didn’t magic transport us here? Why did we have to ride the carpets?”

Bavar tipped his head. “The magic used to transport non-living objects is much simpler than the spells needed for portal keys. It’s much easier to move inanimate paraphernalia than live beings.”

My lips parted. “Did any of our stuff survive the—” I swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “The attack?”

Wyatt took a step closer to me, his jaw locking. I knew the sudden sweep of fear I felt was written all over my face.

For a second, I thought he was going to reach for me, but then he stuffed his hands back into his pockets.

A fleeting sense of disappointment followed, and I inwardly scoffed. Why would I want him to touch me? Despite the obvious history he and I shared, he was still a stranger.

Yet, that lingering sense of longing remained.

“According to the report Bavar received, about a third of the items you bought with Charlotte survived,” Wyatt explained.

“Survived,” I repeated, and a flood of memories slammed into me.

The rumbling building.

The robed men.

Screams.

Splintering wood.

Hands reaching for me.

I spun around, my breath suddenly coming too fast. On stiff legs, I walked to the window near the bathroom as the power inside me rumbled.

“I’ll give you some time to freshen up,” Bavar said quietly, then slipped from the room.

I made it to the window without electrocuting anything or stopping time again—thank the Gods—but I was too embarrassed to face Wyatt.

I was freaking out—like seriously freaking out—and it wasn’t a state I wanted anyone to see me in.

But dammit, so much had happened in the past forty-eight hours. I’d awoken in a field with two strange men I’d never seen before hovering over me. Two people who were supposed to be my parents had desperately wanted me to remember them, but I could have sworn I’d never seen them before.

And then I’d been transported to a strange inn, in a strange city, in a strange realm that oddly didn’t feel like home even though I had no idea where home was because I had no memories of my experiences or travels. All I could remember were words and some random knowledge but nothing about me.

And if that wasn’t bad enough, a group of men or supernaturals or whoever the hell they were had tried to abduct me. But why?

Fuck if I knew . . .

But most of all, what clenched at my heart and twisted my gut was knowing the man standing in the room behind me had once meant something to me. This werewolf commander from an elite organization, who hadn’t pressured or forced me to try to remember him, had dug his metaphorical claws into me. Because the longer I was around him, the more I believed that he’d once meant the world to me.

An image of the large canopied bed again filled my mind.

Had we once shared a bed like that? Only two nights ago?

I wrapped my arms around myself because the feeling that evoked scared the shit out of me, because despite that innate feeling of familiarity, I still didn’t know him or us.

Electricity sparked my nerves, and the immense power swirling inside me swelled.

I took deep breaths, doing my best to calm the rising panic and frustration inside me.

I closed my eyes. Breathe. In and out. In and out.

A set of hands softly clasped my upper arms, startling me, but then Wyatt’s oak and pine scent clouded my senses.

He’d approached me from behind, completely silently. I was quickly coming to learn that when he wanted to move without detection, he was a master at it.

“Nobody can hurt you here.” He rubbed his hands up and down my arms, the movement oddly comforting.

I expected the power inside me to zap him, since it was completely out of my control, but instead it calmed as though also soothed by his touch.

Without realizing what I was doing, I leaned back, my body pressing against his chest.

A low rumble from him vibrated into me, and his soft growl sounded strangely like purring.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” His lips feathered against my ear.

My breath stopped, then sped up when his lips brushed back and forth along my nape.

My chest heaved. Wyatt’s hands were still on my arms, his entire body melded to mine, and his warm breath puffed against my skin.

For some otherworldly reason, I wanted to tilt my chin and give him access to my neck so he could dot soft kisses along it.

That rumble again vibrated Wyatt’s chest, and the sound cascaded through me. My core clenched, a flame of . . . of . . . something filled my belly. But what were these strange feelings?

Something hard pushed into my lower spine, and I spun around.

Gold lined Wyatt’s pupils, the color so vibrant and alive.

“Yes,” I said breathlessly.

The glow in his eyes intensified. “Yes, what?” he asked huskily.

I twisted my hands. “Yes, I’m hungry and thirsty.”

With an abrupt push away from him, I hurried to the small table filled with refreshments. With shaking hands, I poured a cup of tea. Steam wafted up from the delicate china cup, and I cursed when my grip slipped and a large splash of tea poured onto the saucer.

Wyatt’s sigh carried to me, and in that sound I heard the weight of the world. He still stood by the window, watching me, and the intensity of his stare made me . . . ugh. Made me what?

Dammit, why can’t I remember anything and why does all of this have to be so confusing? I had no idea what the hell was going on between us, but it was as though my body remembered him even though my mind couldn’t.

I brought the delicate cup to my lips and sipped, the hot brew slipping down my throat. With trembling fingers, I grabbed one of the little sandwiches from the tray and took a bite.

Flavors burst across my tongue, so rich and vibrant that a small moan escaped me.

Wyatt chuckled.

I blinked.

He was standing right beside me. “Fae food is always better than earth food.”

I blinked again, completely ignoring his comment. “How did you do that?” I asked as my chewing stopped.

“Do what?”

“Move so fast. You were just by the window.”

He shrugged and picked up one of the tarts off the tiered platter. He tossed it into his mouth, eating the entire thing in one bite. “Werewolves can move fast when we want to.” He took another piece of food, this time one of the delicate meat pastries, his large thick fingers curling around the buttery concoction.

I tried not to stare at his hand, I really did, but for the love of all the Gods, even his fingers were attractive—the skin smooth and tanned, his hands strong and wide, his fingers long and—

Another distant memory tugged at the back of my mind. I frowned.

His fingers . . .

I scrunched my face up, mentally pulling and clawing at the blip of knowledge that danced just beyond my cerebral fingertips.

Wyatt had done something to me with his fingers. Something that I had . . . liked.

But just as quickly as that memory teased me with that tickling sensation, it evaporated.

I huffed, the breath rushing out of me.

Wyatt peered down. “What is it?”

I shook my head. “I thought I was going to remember something.”

“Something about the food?”

“No, something about you, but then it disappeared.”

His eyebrows rose, and a fleeting hopeful expression washed over his features before he smoothed it. “Is that right?” He casually picked up a soft piece of what I assumed was fruit. It was circular and had a skinned exterior. When he bit into it, its inner red juicy flesh dripped with nectar. “Was it something I said that provoked the memory?”

I shook my head, dipping my eyes away from his mouth. Even chewing made him appear . . . what was the word? Sexy? His jaw was so strong.

“No, it wasn’t anything you said that provoked it.” I fiddled with my teacup and took another sip. “It was your . . . fingers.”

He took another bite of the fruit. “My fingers?” Amusement filled his tone. “Is that right? These fingers?” He held up his hand, wiggling the five digits. “Does this elicit anything?”

I laughed, unable to help it. I had the urge to slug him again, although in a playful way, not an angry way, and the laughter instantly died on my lips.

Once again, my body reacted to him, wanted to play with him even though I had no idea why.

I groaned. “Gods, this is so frustrating.” I brought a hand to my forehead. “It’s like everything is there, everything that used to be me. I can feel it, but it’s just beyond my reach.”

Wyatt dropped his hand back to his side. “I think that’s a good sign. You’re in there somewhere. You just don’t remember.”

“Exactly. I have yet to remember anything. I just have occasional feelings and tugging sensations in my mind.”

“Which still sounds promising to me.”

“Maybe.” I shrugged.

A soft knock sounded on the door.

It cracked open, and one of the servants who’d greeted us when we entered the castle dipped her head. “I have your belongings. Is now an all right time to unpack them?”

Wyatt strode toward her, his hands extended for the bags. “We’ll manage. I’m sure you have better things to do with your time.”

She bobbed, her cheeks flushing when Wyatt took the bags from her before she hastily departed.

I eyed her retreating form, my head cocking. “You have that effect on women, don’t you?”

He placed the bags on the ridiculously large bed then unzipped them. The contents spilled out. “What effect?”

I sidled closer to him but was careful to maintain my distance. “Women seem to notice you and want your attention.”

He turned slowly toward me, and a waft of his alpha power rolled off him. “Is that what you think?”

I nodded hastily. “It’s how Marnee acts around you, and Charlotte’s made a comment or two, and then the servant who was just here—” I abruptly stopped and twisted my hands, my breath coming too fast again. Did I really just say all of that? Why the hell am I pointing out that women find him attractive?

But that strange feeling was swirling in the pit of my stomach again. That aching, gnawing feeling.

Wyatt sauntered toward me, one corner of his mouth kicking up. When he reached me, he didn’t touch me, but his presence still washed over my senses and damn if I didn’t respond to it.

My breasts ached, my belly sucked in.

He leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Again, you have nothing to be jealous of.”

I frowned, peering up at him. “What makes you think I’m jealous?”

He smirked, then moved back to the bags as he began to pull everything out. “It’s in your scent.”

My brow furrowed as I studied the strange feelings inside me. “I’m jealous?”

He took an armload of clothes to one of the wardrobes before tucking them into the drawers inside it. “As far as I can tell, yes. Scents don’t lie.”

My cheeks flamed as hot as the sun. “You can smell my jealousy?”

“I’ve always been able to scent your emotions.”

“Just mine?”

He shook his head. “No, everyone’s. It’s one of the perks of being a werewolf.”

“Motherfucker,” I whispered under my breath.

He laughed, then deposited the rest of my clothes in the wardrobe before stepping closer to me. “But again, you have nothing to worry about. Nobody has my eye except for one woman.”

“And that woman is . . . me?”

He nodded.

“Even though I can’t remember you?”

His nostrils flared. “Even though you can’t remember me.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as that gold light flared in his eyes. “There was a time not too long ago when I had intended to wait years for you.”

My stomach dipped for what felt like the twentieth time, and my voice was embarrassingly breathy when I replied, “You were? Why?”

His jaw clenched, the muscle ticking. “Because I fucked up. I hurt you and you pushed me away, but I was determined to make it right, even if that meant waiting years until I could make that happen.”

I frowned, an uneasy feeling filling me. “You hurt me intentionally? Is that why I pushed you away?” I squeezed my hands together.

“No,” he said gruffly. “I would never hurt you intentionally. It was just me being stupid and thinking I was doing what was best for us by pushing you away.”

“But then something else happened?” I frowned. Again, I couldn’t remember it, but something danced just off the precipice in my mind. Like a fleeting image in my peripheral vision, there and then gone before I could fully see it.

“Yeah, something else happened.”

I crossed my arms. “Will you answer something truthfully for me?”

“Yes, anything.”

“Before the alignment, and whatever the hell happened to me, were you and I in a good place?”

His eyes softened, a tender look filling them. He took a step closer to me, his hand coming up to cup my jaw as his forehead pressed against mine.

I stilled, breathing him in and feeling him pressed so intimately to me.

“Yes,” he said quietly. “We were in a very good place, and it was a place that I was determined to keep us in forever.”

My breath rushed out when he pulled back.

He grabbed some of his clothes from the wardrobe and a few toiletries. “I’m going to shower and clean up, unless you want to use the bathroom first?”

I shook my head. Any words I’d hoped to utter were locked in my chest.

When the bathroom door closed behind him, and the sound of running water came from the shower, I finally collapsed onto one of the couches near the fireplace.

We were in a good place. A very good place, according to Wyatt, one he was determined to keep us in.

But what did that mean? What had happened to us before that?

My lips pressed together in frustration as that twisty feeling started in my stomach again.

Even though I couldn’t remember anything Wyatt spoke of, deep down, a part of me felt that he spoke the truth, and Gods help me if I wasn’t already falling for him all over again.