He grinned, dropping onto his elbows to kiss her. She welcomed the kiss, her hands sliding up his back to hold him close. But then she lifted her hands, remembering his reaction to her touch earlier.
“Touch me,” he said against her lips.
She smiled.
He pulled back, his gaze searching hers.
“I thought it hurt you,” she explained.
He shook his head. “Not now.”
“But it did before?” she asked, running her hands up his back. Her eyes widened. “Because you were fighting me?”
He closed his eyes, arching into her touch. His gaze met hers. “No more.”
She nodded. “No more.”
He kissed her again, his mouth soft, teasing. His breath fanned across her cheek, stirring a response she’d been sure he’d exhausted. But she wanted him now even more. Until the pain started.
She gasped, clutching at her side.
“Jessa?”
She pushed at him, needing air, needing to curl tight and cover her side.
“What’s wrong?” He was desperate, his hands smoothing the hair from her face.
“I don’t know,” she hissed, the agony blinding her to everything. She curled into herself, pressing her hands to her side, but she couldn’t escape the pain. “Oh God, Finn.” She buried her face in her pillow, terrified she’d scream. What was happening? And how the hell could she make it stop?
Finn’s hands were on her, the sweet agony of his touch making her cry out again. He pulled her into his lap, pressing her close. “Jessa,” his finger tipped her face back. “What is it? Please tell me.” His seemed voice faint.
She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. The tearing in her side was a pain she’d never experienced. Beyond the pain, there was recognition—as if memories she’d long forgotten suddenly reappeared. They were faint, hints of things that were completely foreign yet oddly familiar. And it scared her. Violence. Fear.
So much pain.
She was vaguely aware of moving. Of voices. Of crying out when someone touched her side. Finn touched her then, she knew it was him. His touch eased the pain instantly.
“I’m sorry, Jessa.” She felt his hand on her forehead and turned toward his whispered words. “This is my fault.”
How was it his fault?
None of this was his fault. When she could talk, she’d tell him.
But the darkness closed in on her, and Finn faded away.
She dreamed.
For so long, she was walking in the dark.
Wolves came, lots of them—following her. And she wasn’t afraid. Until a large white wolf came. Cyrus. She ran and ran. Finn was there. Finn as a wolf. He was big, his brown coat dusted with snow as he circled her. His blue eyes were the same, watching her with such intensity she knew she was safe. But when she followed Finn through the woods, she lost him. Somehow, she ended up at her house. Thomas was having dinner with her brothers. Thomas, with long teeth and wild eyes. She pounded on the windows but they didn’t hear her. Thomas did. Time seemed to slow, her brothers and sister moving in slow motion. She saw the look on his face, the way he smiled at her before he attacked her brothers. There was nothing she could do but scream.
“Jessa?” It was Finn’s voice. “Please wake up.” She heard the anguish in his voice but couldn’t open her eyes.
Chapter Ten
It took a lot of effort to pry her eyes open. How she’d become so trapped in sleep, she wasn’t sure, but she couldn’t shake it off. Her eyes were all but glued shut, and her body felt weighed down by a ton of bricks—centered on her extremely sore side. The more awake she was, the more vivid the pain. She pressed a hand against her side, startled by the uneven skin.
She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the sunlight that spilled into the room.