Damon walked over to her door. He sensed her on the other side, heard her breathing. He listened to the soothing sound of her, already comforted by her presence and torn by the agony to get closer still.
His wolf prowled inside, still riled up after the hunt and the near altercation with the Sacco pack. Take her, claim her, he demanded. Now more than ever, you need to mark her as yours.
His wolf didn’t get it, a human wouldn’t react well to a shifter’s mating habits. Damon had seen the terror in her eyes when she’d told him about seeing wolves. When she’d confided in him about the betrayals, her pain tore at him. He’d do anything to take away her pain, yet his omission exacerbated the gulf between them.
Every muscle in Damon’s body was tight and tense. He was caught in this battle between human and wolf. He was taunted by the desperate longing and inevitable agony of not only finding his mate, but knowing she was human and from a different world. Could a human ever understand or accept him?
He gulped. If he wanted any chance with her, he had to confide in her. She wouldn’t tolerate deceit. He had to tell her who he truly was.
From behind the door, Sophie moaned. It was a long, pleasurable one that robbed him of reason. He listened, as frozen as a tree trunk, as her breaths came out quicker and louder. Rough pants and low moans escaped her, captivating him in what he was sure was a beautiful, sensual dream.
Was she dreaming of him?
Damon placed his hands on the wood of the door and leaned his forehead against it, bracing himself against the longing to barge through it and claim her.
How much longer could he live like this, before succumbing to this intense yearning? How much longer could he struggle against what was sure to be a star-crossed fate?
Chapter 11
Sophie
Sophie woke early Wednesday morning to get some work done. After brewing a pot of coffee, she sat at the table she’d been using as a desk and stared outside. The sun was rising over the mountain. Brilliant oranges and yellows streaked across the sky to welcome the new day.
The night before, she’d had some wild dreams about Damon, which had seemed so real, heat rose within, burning her cheeks.
That sensation intensified when he walked out of his bedroom an hour later wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts. His hair was ruffled, and his eyes were still sleepy. He walked over to her and said good morning before kissing the top of her head.
She turned to him and faced that wall of carved abs. Before salivating, she glanced away. “Good morning.” Her breath came quicker. “I woke up early to get some work done and then I can head out for a few runs this morning.” Why was she talking so fast?
“Want some company?” Damon walked over to the coffee pot and poured himself a cup in one of the handmade ceramic mugs he favored. He had them in a variety of colors and had mentioned buying them from an artist in the village. “I’m off this morning and working the afternoon shift.”
“Sure.”
He opened the fridge. “First, I’ll make us some breakfast.” He pulled out some eggs and a loaf of bread.
A couple of hours later, they’d skied a few trails. The sun shone bright overhead, offsetting some of the coolness of the mountain air.
After a few runs, Sophie felt more confident in her abilities. “I’m ready to try a harder trail.”
Damon nodded with pride. “That’s my girl.”
A tingling stirred inside her on hearing those words.
“You’ve got it, Sophie,” he added. “Besides, ski patrol will be with you the entire time.” He placed his hand on his chest and leaned forward in a half bow.
“True.” She laughed.
This was her first attempt at the black diamond trail since the incident. Her heart pounded as she envisioned how she’d lost control. But if she thought that way, her body would be stiff. She’d make mistakes. And they could be dangerous ones.
Instead, she focused on her form. Inhaling the brisk air, she aimed her skis downhill and concentrated on the route ahead. Edging into the side of the mountain for her turns, she navigated down, steering around a patch of ice. Still, there must have been some right beneath her as the crunching of her skis on ice grated her ears, making her heart thump. She didn’t freak out or fall, though, and remained in control.
Her quads burned at this incline, and the winds seemed to batter her even more at this quicker speed. The rush returned—the wild, dangerous sensation of slicing down the mountain with the wind on her face.
When she got to the bottom of the mountain, her pulse still raced. She glanced back at the mountain. She did it!
Damon had been skiing behind her. He finished the run in perfect form, with skis close and turns tight. After edging into a stop beside her, he congratulated her. “Great job. I’m proud of you, Soph.”
She beamed. It felt pretty damn good to get out there again and experience what she loved, rather than caving into the fear instigated by her fall in the woods.
“Let’s go again,” she declared.
They skied two more black trails, but by three o’clock, her legs screamed that it was time to quit. “I better head back to work. And my muscles are telling me it’s time.”
“I’ll meet up with you for dinner. Any preference tonight?”
“I need a break from all the cheese,” she noted with a laugh. “How about sushi?” she suggested. “I saw a restaurant in the village.”
Damon nodded and smiled. “What my lady wants.”
My lady. My girl. Hearing him say those words was more thrilling than tackling any of those difficult trails.
Her feelings might be dangerous, setting her up for a fall more crushing than any posed by a tumble down the mountain.
The
