***
An hour later, a platoon of infantry rolled up, ten times as armed as the last one had been. The infantry that had been under Wolfe were all dead, killed in their vehicles when the whole road blew up underneath them. Several mothers were crying over their dead children as the soldiers made their way to the sheikh's house. They glared at the soldiers and yelled at them as if the Americans had killed them instead of the bullets of their own people.
The sheikh's house was nothing but rubble, the sheikh and his wife buried alive. The two soldiers at the front of the house were positively identified, but some of the bodies in back would have to be brought back to the base before they could be ID'd. However, in a field of opium behind the house, they found one survivor.
"He's in shock," the field medic stated to the infantry commander. "Who knows what he's gone through? His clothes look like they've been torn from his body, though I see no signs of trauma other than this bullet wound. Even his dog tag chain is broken."
"Get him stabilized and call the chopper, we've got to air lift him out of here as soon as possible," the commander said.
"Sir, what about the people of the village. Some of them are saying something about a 'demon wolf'?"
The infantry commander paused. "Do you know what that means?"
The field medic sighed. "No, sir. And none of the enemies are still alive. We think it might be bombs that burned them, but we're not sure. Whatever got them, it did a thorough job."
"Then let's get our men out of here. If these assholes are too stupid to work their own bombs properly, then we have no time for them."
The field medic shouted a "Yes, sir!" and got on the radio about the chopper coming in. It wasn't until later that he noted in his after action review that the bodies of the enemy combatants were neatly stacked in a way that couldn't have possibly been from bombs going off.
Chapter 33
"I woke up in a medical tent with perfect memory of what had happened. I never told a soul what really happened until now," Jackson finished. "They had to tie me down at night because I would have nightmares about it. I struck an orderly once and broke his jaw."
He watched Chloe's face, trying to gauge her reaction. Her face was unreadable, only a slight frown creasing her forehead. The insides of his stomach knotted up, afraid she was going to tell him to get out. It had felt good to tell someone the truth, but now that he was finished, he was afraid.
"You were afraid you were going to hurt me, weren't you? That's why you pushed me away at first?" she asked. Jackson nodded.
"I don't want to hurt anyone again. Especially not you."
Chloe reached out a gentle hand, her fingers caressing the curve of Jackson's face. She smiled. "I knew from the moment I met you that you would never hurt me."
He kissed her hand, relief flooding through him. She didn't hate him. She pulled lightly at his chin, raising his face to look at hers.
"You don't hate me then? You're not afraid of me?" Jackson's voice quivered slightly as he looked into her beautiful green eyes.
"No. How could I hate you for defending yourself? Those men were going to kill you. They would have if you hadn't changed." She smiled. "Thank you for telling me. I know it was hard."
Jackson brushed a strand of brown hair off her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. She smiled, and pressed her cheek into his hand. He could feel her heart beating against his skin, strong and sure.
He leaned forward and kissed her. It was just a simple kiss, their lips touching for only a moment, but it held such power Jackson thought his heart might stop.
"I love you, Jackson," Chloe whispered. Her green eyes shone with the truth of her statement.
"I've loved you since the moment I saw you, Chloe. I'll love you forever." His voice failed him at the end, and he simply kissed her again.
Jackson's heart sang. He could be with her. She knew everything and she understood. She was his Fated One and he knew that he would love her until the end of his days.
She slipped her tongue between his lips, tasting him and giving him a taste of herself. The fire in Jackson's blood roared to life. Her scent enveloped him, and the only thing he could think of was her. Her insistent kisses told her she was thinking the same thing.
He was up and out of his chair in a heartbeat, leaning down and kissing her. His big hand wrapped around the side of her face, cradling her as he kissed her. She leaned up into him, allowing the passion to flow from her to him. As he continued to kiss her, she could feel him building up to a frenzy. The scruff of his face tickled hers as his kisses became more and more animalistic.
Soon, he had pulled her to her feet. She jumped up into his huge, muscular arms and wrapped her legs around him, feeling the heat radiating off every inch of his body. His hands supported her ass as she began to grind against him. Her shirt was off in a heartbeat, and his wasn't far behind. She pulled her bra off quickly, allowing their chests to touch. He pressed her against his body, and she loved the feeling of the muscles in his chest.
His fingers dug into her ass through her jeans, and she worked her nails into the hard strength of his back. As she felt her nail draw blood, he seemed to roar. Finally, she thought. He pulled away from the kiss, his golden eyes looking at her with a hunger and intensity that she had never seen before. His hands moved to her sides, and as he lifted, she unraveled herself from him.
In a moment, she was flying through the air, still supported by his strong hands. As she landed on the bed, she squealed with laughter. When she looked up at him, he had no such humor on his face. He was pawing at her pants, and she lifted her hips to help him. In another moment, they were down off her ankles. She was glad that she hadn't worn her best panties, because in the next moment he had his hands inside the crotch, tearing them from her body with a loud ripping sound.
She gasped, amazed as his strength and ferociousness