Under Her Skin
Page 6

He sat in the reclining chair on the opposite side of the room, eyes slitted. Watching me. He'd slept in the chair last night. I guess I should appreciate him giving me the bed, but my gratitude was in short supply.
"Another nightmare?" he asked quietly.
I'd had them all night. Either I was getting eaten by wolves, or I was turning into one. Terrifying no matter which way you sliced it.
Daniel stretched. The afghan he'd thrown over himself slipped, revealing that he'd taken off his shirt. Cords of muscles flexed beneath taut, tanned skin.
Despite everything, I looked. I'd never seen such a perfectly muscled body before – at least, one that wasn't on TV advertising gym equipment. Daniel didn't have the bloated look associated with steroid users, but he had a thick, brawny frame that usually spoke of many hours in a gym. Absurdly, the image of a werewolf
bench-pressing flashed in my mind.
I glanced up to find Daniel staring at me. He didn't wink or make a comment, but there was no doubt he knew I'd been staring at his body.
I managed to shrug. "Stockholm syndrome," I said. "The whole 'bonding with your captor' thing. I've already cried in your arms, now I'm checking you out. Just ignore it. Of course, I can't be your first captive, so you're probably used to this."
A faint smile touched his mouth. "You're the first female I've had to quarantine, and none of the men looked at me the way you did."
There was something deeper in his voice with that last sentence. I shivered, both from unease and other things. Yes, Daniel was very attractive with his dark hair, thick brows, full mouth, and piercing hazel eyes – not to mention that body. But this wasn't a first date. This was a hostage situation, and a macabre one at that.
"Don't let it go to your head. I'm scared to death and looking for any form of comfort," I said, regaining control. "Speaking of that, since a certain murderous gray wolf keeps appearing in my nightmares, I need to know. What happened to Gabriel?"
Daniel's face became shuttered. "He's under arrest. If you shift, he dies for infecting you against your will. If you don't turn, Joshua said Gabriel losing his eye was punishment enough. Joshua had liquid silver poured into Gabriel's eye so it wouldn't heal."
Their harshness apparently wasn't limited just to outsiders. I felt mildly sick over what I'd heard, but under the circumstances, pity for Gabriel was beyond me.
"And the others?" Gabriel hadn't been alone.
"They run the gauntlet."
Daniel said it lightly, but I swallowed. "As in, the thing Native Indians used to do with captives, where they line up on both sides and beat the shit out of the person as he tries to dash down the center?"
That hint of wildness was back in Daniel's gaze again, a primal, untamed gleam I'd never seen except in the eyes of an animal. On a full-grown man, it both was mesmerizing and frightening.
"Something like that. Except we'll be in our fur, and they won't."
I couldn't help but gulp. That sounded barbaric, and it was on my account. Something occurred to me.
"But it isn't the full moon. How can you…you know?" In fact, how had any of
the werewolves changed form the other day, if I had to wait until the full moon to see if I was infected?
"Once we're past the first year, we can shift at will. New pack members are dependent on the full moon to change, though."
I digested this. "So, right now, you could turn into a –"
"Wolf," he finished for me. "Yes."
So many emotions crashed through me. Fear. Revulsion. Curiosity. Disbelief. What if all of this was a twisted farce, and I hadn't seen what I'd thought was a wolf turning into a man in the woods? What if this was just a town full of crazies who thought they were wolves, and in my stress, I'd bought into that?
"Show me."
The words were out of my mouth before I could form another thought. I had to see it. No matter what.
Daniel stood, the afghan falling to the floor. He met my eyes, and a ripple went through me. His were even wilder than before, starting to slant and gleam with amber. He undid his jeans, letting them drop to the floor.
Nothing but bare skin underneath.
I might have made a sound. Seeing a magnificent naked male body only a few feet away is worth a sharp intake of breath, no matter the circumstances. But all my feminine appreciation fell away when he crouched on the floor and rivers of silvery hair began to replace the skin on his back. There was a crunching sound as bones curved, popped, and formed where none had been before. It didn't look the same as in the movies. There was no screaming. No slow protracting of a muzzle replacing a face, blood spurting, or drawn-out writhing. Daniel had simply crouched on the floor and then, in about ten seconds, a wolf the size of a pony, covered in silver and charcoal fur, stared at me with bright yellow eyes.
"Marlee," it – Daniel – rumbled.
I felt light-headed. Nope, you're not crazy, and neither are they. But that's the bad news.
I had moved toward the door without even being aware of it. Daniel sat on his haunches in front of it, those golden eyes drilling into mine.
"Sit," he said.
A rather unhinged cackle came out of me. What looked like a huge dog was telling me to sit. How backward was that?
"Woof," I replied in a shaky voice, but sat in the chair he'd recently vacated. The wolf's lips pulled back in a canine version of a grin.