Page 13 of Nobody’s Angel (World of de Wolfe Pack #5)

She felt the heat of his hands along her back as he groaned and wrapped her in his strong arms. “Damn it, Lettie,” was all he said, but she understood his ache and frustration, for she was feeling it too.

She knew something important was going to happen, for the violent storm raging outside was a foreboding of what was to come in their search for Brynne’s identity.

Dread built up inside her and an icy blast of air invaded her bones.

This was Jeremiah’s way of telling her that something bad was going to happen.

When? And where? Unfortunately, she didn’t know.

She eased from Brynne’s arms and hurried up the stairs, feeling the heat of his gaze on her back the entire time.

She hurried down the hall and entered her room.

Nell had lit a fire before retiring for the evening so the room was comfortable despite the cold night.

Her nightgown had been set out on the bed, a long sleeved, high necked, thick woolen garment that was quite practical for the colder months.

Lettie pulled the pins from her hair and let the long strands fall over her shoulders in unruly waves.

She didn’t bother to brush it out, for she was overset and already missing the warm strength of Brynne’s arms around her.

She’d had a glimpse of his sensual touch when he’d stroked her leg a short while ago in the parlor, and had felt a thrill when he’d put his arms around on the stairs.

She wanted him so badly. Her body cried out for his touch.

She slipped out of her evening gown and carefully draped it over a chair beside her armoire, leaving it for Nell to take care of in the morning.

There was a long mirror beside the armoire and Lettie stepped before it to inspect her reflection.

She wasn’t used to looking at herself naked, but she was curious to see what others saw.

Of course, no man had ever seen her undressed before.

Nor did she wish any man to see her this way, except for Brynne.

If he were beside her, what would he think?

Sometimes he looked at her as though he could see through her clothes and it seemed to please him.

When he’d touched her leg earlier this evening, she’d felt sensations in her breasts and the mound between her thighs.

Did Brynne suspect what she was feeling?

Is that why he drew his hand away so suddenly?

Lettie studied her breasts as they appeared to her in the mirror and frowned.

They were a bit too large compared to the rest of her body.

Her nipples were a pale rose and hardened by the cold.

Her legs were long and her hips narrow. She’d seen portraits and statues in museum galleries of Greek and Roman goddesses that were usually more voluptuous than she was.

If those plump goddesses were a man’s ideal, then she was far from perfect.

She put on her nightgown and slipped into bed.

Brynne wouldn’t have her no matter how voluptuous or appealing her body was to him. What did it matter? He would never touch her, not unless he felt that he could claim her as his wife.

She fluffed her pillow a little too insistently. “Jeremiah, I need answers. Show me something more. Please.”

Lettie tossed and turned and finally fell asleep shortly after midnight.

But it was a restless sleep and she awoke with a start just before dawn, sensing someone was in her room.

“Nell? Is it morning yet?” The drapes were drawn, but not fully, so that she saw a graying light through the small opening where the fabric had parted.

Enough of the gray light filtered into the room and she was able to make out the form of a man. He seemed familiar, and yet not. She shook her head to force herself awake, for this had to be a dream.

Only it felt too real.

The man stepped from the shadows in the corner of her room and paused at the foot of her bed, staring at her with wild, gleaming eyes.

“Who are you?” Her heart shot into her throat and she fumbled for the matchsticks on the night stand where they rested beside her candle. Since her hands were trembling, it took her several attempts to light the candle. When she held it up to the man, she screamed.

And screamed again.

And continued to scream.

It wasn’t a man, but some form of beast. The gleaming eyes and the face were that of a wolf. The body was that of a man, tall and muscled, resembling Brynne’s body.

As she continued to scream, the face and eyes turned into Brynne’s handsome face and dark eyes.

They were no longer gleaming, but suddenly dull and lifeless.

As she stared at him, water began to surround him, until it filled the room and he began to float in its icy current. The water began to flood her bed.

She tried to move off the bed and run to the door, but she couldn’t move. It was as though this vision had trapped her and was holding her down. Her breath caught as the water began to fill her lungs.

She couldn’t scream anymore. She couldn’t breathe.

Water continued to fill her lungs.

Her candle dropped to the floor and she worried that it was still burning.

The vision of Brynne was still in front of her. Floating. His eyes were dead. He wasn’t moving.

She tried to scream again, but more water filled her lungs.

“Lettie! Lettie, wake up!” Someone was shaking her. Brynne? Big, warm hands. She couldn’t breathe.

Brynne! Help me breathe!

“Frances, her candle’s on the floor. I think it burned itself out when it fell. Make certain.”

She saw a blur of pink that had to be Frances in her dressing gown hurrying to the side of her bed.

Brynne’s arms were around her now and her head was pressed against his chest. She felt the warmth of his skin against her cheek and the tickle of his chest hairs against her nose. She tried to gulp air. “Lettie, no! Sweetheart, wake up. You’re not drowning.”

She felt the pounding of his heart against her cheek. “Not me. You, Brynne. Danger.”

She took another deep breath and held it as more water washed over her. She knew she wasn’t drowning. He was the one at risk. The vision was still there and now there were two lifeless bodies. Brynne’s and a younger version of himself. When he was a little boy?

And the boy was a wolf, too.

What was she seeing?

Would Brynne die?