Page 15 of Lone Wolf’s Claim (The Kincaid Werewolves #1)

"My parents took me away from our people when I was a little girl," she told him. "I grew up with them in China, and I was raised just like any other human kid. They didn't even tell me what I was until I was sixteen. I had no idea that I was capable of any of this…stuff…until it happened."

"Why did they take you away?"

He was being weirdly calm about all of this.

If his accent hadn't given him away, she would never have known he was bothered by her admission at all.

She'd expected him to freak out, maybe even try to hurt her.

Werewolves and Fae did not have a good history together.

As a matter of fact, his people used to hunt hers. Well, not hers, but the bad Fae.

"They were trying to protect me from our new prince."

"The same prince that sent us here?"

"I believe so, yes. I didn’t know he was in this area until I called my mom to check in with her.

When I told her I was in Seattle, she nearly had a stroke and ordered me to steal a car if I had to and get my ass straight to the airport.

" She smiled at the thought of her sweet, law-abiding mother encouraging her to commit a criminal act, but her smile fell from her face when she noticed that Brock was not sharing in her amusement. Of course, he didn't know her mom.

"What's he going to do with us?" he asked. "This prince of yours."

She shook her head. "I have no idea, Brock.

I swear it. I don't know anything about him other than that my parents think he's a loon.

And by his recent actions, I think they're probably right.

" She scooted back around the fire to kneel on the ground next to him, sitting back on her heels.

Sincerity shone from her eyes as she said, "I'm so sorry you got pulled into all of this. I really am."

He gave her a sideways glare, one she couldn't quite decipher, and then returned his attention to the fire. The muscles in his jaw clenched and unclenched, and his brows were drawn together over his expressive eyes in a scowl.

Okay. Maybe he wasn't taking this as calmly as she had thought. But still, the accent had gone away again, so it couldn't be all that bad.

She placed her hand on his arm, but pulled her hand back when his muscles jumped beneath her touch.

Determined to cross the invisible chasm that was now between them thanks to her big mouth, she tried again, and this time he allowed her to touch him.

"My people aren't like the ones the werewolves fought.

I swear it. As a matter of fact, from what my parent's history lessons taught me, we fought the same enemy. "

He looked at her then, his scowl deepening. "You fought your own people?" he asked a bit sarcastically.

"They're a different tribe of Fae. My people will never be angels, but my tribe isn't evil.

The ones you fought would take out every human on the planet if they could, without remorse.

Then they would turn on the creatures that were left, and then they'd go after each other.

They feed off other's life forces, or souls, or chi, or whatever you want to call it.

It's like the best, most addictive drug ever to them.

The more they get, the more they want until they're crazed from it. "

He was nodding along with her explanation. "My kind hunted your kind. Killed them all off, or so we thought."

"Not all of them. The ones that had managed to escape the slaughter were sent away." At his questioning look, she clarified, "They were locked away in another world. Another dimension."

“How? By who?”

“By the prince,” she answered. “From what I understand.”

"But you're saying you are not one of these creatures?"

"No," she said firmly. "I am not. My people are woodland Fae. We gain our energy by being around this." She waved her hand at the forest around them. "We get high from the trees, and the flowers, and the animals.”

He gave her a look of disbelief.

“What? We do. Just because I’m not a survivalist does not mean I’m not outdoorsy,” she insisted.

“We thrive from the simple things in life- good food, dancing…

sex. We get our thrills from watching a storm roll in, or skinny-dipping in a hot spring," she teased, but he didn’t even crack a smile, so she got serious again and continued.

"Not from sucking the life from others, but from sharing their life force.

" She shrugged. "It sounds boring, I know. "

But he shook his head. "No, sunshine. It's not boring. It's like us. Wolves are strongly connected to the mysteries of nature. How do you think we do what we do?"

His use of his nickname for her was encouraging. She scooted a bit closer to him, but he leaned away.

Okay, maybe it was a bit too soon. She sat back again, giving him his space, and turned her palms to the dying fire.

“What else can you do?” he asked, eyeing her up and down.

She shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. I never needed to tap into that side of myself, until now.

Actually, I’ve worked hard to avoid it.” Thinking about it a minute, something suddenly became very clear to her.

“ That’s why I’ve always been so good at kickboxing, I bet!

Even though I can’t walk three feet down the sidewalk without tripping over my own feet. ” It suddenly all made sense.

"I'll stoke that up again," he told her, indicating the dying fire. "We should get some sleep." Rising to his feet, he slipped on his clean cargos and went to the other side of the spring to find some firewood.

"Sleep, he says." Heather sighed, watching him with longing, then pulled on her yoga pants and headed into the trees for a little private time.

"Don't go too far," he called out sternly.

She smiled. At least he was still concerned about her safety. That had to be a good sign.