This story first came to me last fall during the 2017 Halloweek on Tumblr, but got shelved in favor of other projects. A big thank you to CS Supernatural Summer mods for creating this event, so I could dust this fic off and give it another go. Much love to artistic-writer for being my beta, and to flipperbrain for her stunning artwork, which you can view on Tumblr!
Part One
"Seriously?! What the hell?" Emma half whined in response to her bug, which was now merely coasting down the rural, back road thanks to the engine dying.
She was able to use its remaining inertia to pull off to the side of the road before bringing the car to a complete stop. Turning the key to see if she could get it to restart, Emma's irritation spiked when the engine attempted to turn over without success. She did not have time for this.
Frustrated, Emma made her way to the back of the bug and wrenched open the engine lid. A slight acrid smell of something burning filled her nostrils, but she couldn't see where it was coming from. Not that she even really knew what she was looking for. Her expertise with motor vehicle repair extended to standing with her hands on her hips while she scowled at the offending issue and waited for a tow truck.
Emma plucked her phone from her back pocket and cursed the lack of bars. No service. Just. Great. She pulled her hair back into a low ponytail and bent back over the engine, hoping that it might miraculously become animated and tell her the problem.
"Need a hand there, love?" a voice called out suddenly, catching Emma off guard and causing her to bang her head on the engine lid.
"Ow!" Emma's eyes began to water as she rubbed the now tender spot on the back of her skull.
"Sorry about that," the voice called again, closer this time. "I didn't mean to startle you. I can take a look at your engine if you're having trouble."
Emma blinked the sting out of her eyes and tried to focus on the figure that was making his way toward her from a truck that had apparently pulled over to assist. Then she had to keep blinking. The man before her couldn't possibly be real.
"Uh… sure. Thanks."
The man flashed her a friendly smile and continued forward.
Given her line of work, Emma considered herself a quick and accurate judge of character. Working in bail bonds, with the occasional assignment that drifted into bounty hunter territory, it was imperative she knew exactly who she was dealing with. She could discover quite a bit about a person from the way they walked and how they carried themselves, the facial expressions they gave and how well they matched the tone in their voice or the intent within their eyes. Emma had an uncanny ability to read people, and she could spot a lie from a mile away. She found herself at a complete loss with the contradiction of the man making his way toward her, though.
He had a stalking swagger that screamed trouble, only it was juxtaposed with a soft, sincere smile. Eyes a piercing blue seemed to track her movements with sharp, predatory focus, but were framed with flirty, arched brows and friendly crinkles at their corners. Emma got the sense that this was a man she could trust while simultaneously feeling like she should run for the hills. Running probably wouldn't be a smart option, though. Something in his eyes told her he'd only give chase if she ran, and she found that she wouldn't mind if he did.
His dark, disheveled hair fluttered in the breeze, and when he finally finished his approach she could see an auburn tint to the light scuff that adorned his visibly clenched jaw. He swallowed and wet his lips before extending his hand and offered an introduction.
"Killian Jones. At your service."
He had an accent she realised. Of course, he did.
"Emma," she replied as she shook his strong, calloused hand. "Emma Swan."
"Let's see what the trouble is, shall we?"
He released her hand and bent over the engine to begin his assessment. Wow, he smells good. Emma couldn't ever remember having such a strong olfactory response to a person, but the mixture of masculine scents with the sweet hint of recent exertions had her feeling dizzy and flushed. As did the view of his ass, which she assessed with as much scrutiny as he did her bug's motor.
"Well, love. I've got good news, bad news, and then some more good news," he stated, snapping her attention back to the trouble at hand and away from the trouble her thoughts were quickly spiraling toward.
"Okay," she responded.
"First piece of good news is that it's just a burned up coil pack." He pulled a rag from his back pocket and began to wipe the grime from his hands as he went on to explain. "Relatively inexpensive, not too complicated a fix, we can get it repaired and you on your way in a jiffy. The bad news is… the nearest town's tow truck is out of commission, so there's no way to get your car back to town, I'm afraid."
"What's the other good news, then?"
"Your charming vehicle doesn't need to be towed into town. I can fix it right here once I've got the part." He returned the rag to his back pocket and closed the engine lid. "All that remains now, is for you to decide whether you're more comfortable accompanying me to town, or waiting here for my return."
"Why are you helping me?" The question popped out before Emma could stop it. She didn't want to seem ungrateful, especially when there was no one else around willing to assist her, but she couldn't help be wary of the man regardless of how attractive and friendly he was, or maybe because of it.
"It would be bad form to leave you stranded on the side of the road, lass."
"So you're a gentleman then?" she quipped with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
"Right now I am," he smirked, his brow arching in matching fashion. "So, what'll it be, Swan? Are you coming with me, or staying here?"
Emma's stomach took the moment to throw in it's two cents with a distinct rumble. Killian's smirk turned into a full blown grin as he chuckled.
"There's a diner in town." he informed. "Best onion rings on the east coast. You can get a bite to eat while I get your new coil pack and the necessary tools to swap it out."
Emma worried her lip for a moment and considered her choice. Common sense told her to stay put, to not get in a stranger's truck, to not put her trust in a pair of too blue eyes that seemed to flash with warning. Curiosity, though. Curiosity was still trying to figure this Killian Jones out. She wanted to know what kind of man he truly was: the gentleman that had stopped to assist, or the scoundrel she could just make out from the shadows behind his eyes.
"I'll come with," Emma decided, and his brows raised in surprise. After grabbing her bag and locking up her car she approached his truck and taunted, "It's not like you bite, right?"
"Not unless you ask, love." He grinned and gave her a playful wink, but Emma noticed how his fists had clenched at his sides when she'd teased him.
Her scent was absolutely intoxicating. A rich assault that stirred his groin and made his teeth ache. A clawing need flooded his veins with an almost overwhelming compulsion to taste. Her skin, her essence, her blood. Killian wasn't sure which he desired more, and he'd had to clench his jaw in order to force his fangs to retract while he swallowed the salivating sensation her scent had caused when he'd first found himself in her presence.
She had no idea the potential danger she was in. With the impending full moon, Killian was eager to get her on her way, lest she be stranded in a community full of werewolves. Not to mention the growing desire that sang in his blood for a taste of hers. It had been a long time since he'd experienced a bloodlust of this intensity, if ever, and the sooner she was on her way, the better. For everyone.
Why in the bloody hell did I offer for her to accompany me?
Torment. The ride into town was sheer torment.
"So what brings you all the way out here, love?" Killian asked in attempt to make polite conversation and keep his thoughts from careening any further into temptation.
"A case," she replied, keeping her eyes trained on the road before them. Killian wondered if she could sense it now that they were contained in close proximity. The danger that lurked just beneath the surface of who he was, what he was. Not that she had any reason to fear him. He wouldn't hurt her, or at least, he didn't want to hurt her.
He just wanted to taste her.
Killian shook the all too tempting thought from his head and asked, "What sort of case? Are you a social worker? A cop?" He waggled his brows at her before playfully adding, "A spy?"
"I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you," she teased back with a coy smile set on her lips.
"I can think of worse ways to meet my end than having your lovely face as the last thing I'd see." Killian could hear the increase in her pulse and the shallowing of her breath. In his periphery he saw a beguiling blush sweep up her neck and bloom at the apple of her cheeks, an alluring sight that had him gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white as he attempted to exhibit some manner of control over himself.
Why was he courting danger by flirting with her? He was walking a fine enough line of peril as it was.
"Bail bonds," she stated, drawing him back to the conversation at hand. "I work in bail bonds, but this case has me more in the role of bounty hunter. I got a tip that one of my skips is hiding out up north, so I'm taking the weekend to track him down and drag his ass back to Portland."
"That's quite a dedication to your profession, love," Killian replied with a tone that betrayed his awe at her impressive occupation. He'd already gotten a sense that she was tough lass. "Sacrificing time from your personal life in order to spend the weekend chasing down some deadbeat."
Emma scoffed, "It isn't much of a sacrifice when you don't really have one of those." Killian shot her a confused look and she blushed again as she clarified. "A life. Don't really have time for one of those in my line of work."
Killian sensed her discomfort and realized that she'd probably shared more than she'd intended to with him. "Well, as I said," he began again, hoping to alleviate her uneasiness, "it won't take too long to fix your car and then you'll be on your way again in no time."
They spent the next few miles in silence until the sight of the town's sign prompted her to break the quiet. "Storybrooke? I don't remember seeing this town on my map."
"Not surprising. Not much to it really," Killian deflected.
"So, what do you do, Mr. Killian Jones?" she inquired with a playful tone. Her earlier misgivings about oversharing seemingly laid to rest.
"You mean, besides rescuing damsels in distress from the side of the road?" he provoked with a raised brow and smirk.
"I am not a damsel in distress," she disputed, still with an air of teasing, though there was a vehemence to her statement as well.
"Of course not, love," Killian relented. "Any man who'd think so is an utter fool. And I am not an utter fool, I am a professor. Since you asked."
"A professor? Where? That must be some commute. I didn't think there was a university or college up this way."
"There isn't," he affirmed. "I teach an online course and consult with others in my field."
"And fix cars in your spare time?" she teased.
"I am a man of many interests and talents, love," he quipped back flirtatiously, then berated himself for his behavior. What the bloody hell was he doing? He needed to get this woman back on the road and on her way before he lost his good sense altogether.
Killian pulled up to the diner and had to take a moment to collect himself before getting out of his truck. As they entered, he was relieved to see it nearly empty of patrons. It would be safer for the lass that way.
"I wasn't expecting to see you in here today," Granny called as she came out from the kitchens. She stopped short at the sight of his companion and Killian rushed to provide introductions lest the lass became suspicious at Granny's startled expression.
"Uh, Granny. This is Emma Swan. Her car broke down several miles outside of town, and I'm helping her in getting it fixed. I told her about your fantastic onion rings though, so I thought she might want a bite to eat while I go get the part we need. Swan, this is Granny Lucas. The proprietor of Granny's Diner and the Bed and Breakfast attached at the back."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lucas," Emma greeted with a little wave from across the counter.
"Just Granny, dear," she replied kindly. "It's lovely to meet you, too. Why don't you have a seat and look over the menu." She turned her stern eyes to Killian and said, "Before you head over to Tillman's, I need a word with you."
Killian winced slightly at the reprimand he knew she was about to hand him, but dutifully followed her to the back hallway.
"What do you think you're doing bringing an outsider here? Today of all days," Granny admonished with her hands braced at her hips.
"I couldn't very well leave her on the side of the road now, could I?" Killian argued, though he knew that's exactly what he should have done. He should have insisted that she wait with her vehicle while he came to town on his own, but he didn't. He hadn't wanted to. Once he'd caught wind of her scent he'd wanted nothing more than to remain in her presence, which was why he'd made the offer for her to accompany him.
"Well, you better make it quick. You and I both know what'll happen if a Bitten gets wind of her and finds out you're the one that brought her here."
Killian did know. Bitten's exhibited little to no control over their impulses this close to a full moon. There had already been an uptick in skirmishes between the packs in town, and she-wolves always had to be on their guard for unwanted advances from over eager males. It usually wasn't too much of a concern; the female of their species could definitely hold their own, and they had pack members to back them up. A lone human was vulnerable, though.
They had rules about interfering with humans who were merely passing through the territories, or who waywardly found themselves into town. Rules Killian had skirted by inviting her along, endangering both of them.
He cursed himself a fool then noticed Granny eyeing him with great scrutiny. "Why didn't you just leave her to wait with her car?" Granny questioned. "The charter would have protected her from any of our kind who might have come across her in your absence."
"I know, I just," Killian faltered, unsure as to why he'd allowed a pretty face and alluring scent to cause him to act so rashly. "I just couldn't." Killian shrugged at his lame attempt to explain his actions and he saw a spark of understanding ignite behind Granny's now softening stare.
"I see," she replied with a self-satisfied smirk, looking a bit like the cat that caught the canary. Though, given their nature, that analogy probably wasn't appropriate.
"Do you?" Killian's brows lifted incredulously. "Care to enlighten me?"
"No. You'll figure it out soon enough," Granny responded, that same smug expression alighting her face. Until raised voices called both their attentions back to the diner.
The sight that met them as they rounded the corner had Killian growling irrationally. One of the Bittens from the Oz pack had sidled themselves next to his Swan. His Swan?
"Car trouble, huh?" the Bitten, Walsh, schmoozed. "I'd be more than happy to take a good look under your hood."
Killian rolled his eyes at the man's attempt at an innuendo, and noted Swan's mirroring of that action.
"I've got it covered, thanks." she replied curtly, not looking up from the menu.
"Oh?" Walsh questioned as he scooted closer. "How's that?"
"You better get over there before her explanation goes any further," Granny whispered harshly in Killian's ear.
Killian heeded the older woman's warning and approached the bar with his typical confident swagger. "Change of plan, Swan." he began, ignoring Walsh completely as he stood at her other side. "Granny will prepare you a to-go bag while you and I both go and fetch the needed items to fix your car."
"Sounds good to me." Emma stood from her seat and turned toward Killian, only to be halted by Walsh's grasp at her elbow.
"Wait a minute." Walsh's eyes narrowed at Killian. "Did Jones bring you into town?"
"I'm only trying to help the lass get on her way," Killian stated, skirting the question.
"By bringing her into town? Today?" Walsh taunted as a feral grin stretched across his face, raising Killian's hackles.
Emma attempted to wrench her arm out of Walsh's grip as she inquired, "What's so special about today? And why shouldn't he bring me to town? I needed help with my car."
Walsh's grasp held firm against her struggle while his attention remained trained on Killian. His eyes danced at the confirmation that Killian had, indeed, brought her to town, and he pulled Emma closer to him.
"Let go of me," she demanded.
"You heard the lass," Killian said with a hint of menace. "Let go."
"If you wanted her, you should have claimed her so it was obvious who she belonged to," Walsh countered.
"Whoa!" Emma exclaimed. "I don't belong to anyone."
"Not yet," Walsh drawled, swiping his tongue salaciously over his bottom lip. "But Jones here made you fair game when he brought you into town today. Isn't that right, Jones?"
Emma pierced Killian with a heated look of outrage. "What the hell is he talking about?"
"I brought her to town to get a bite to eat while I get the necessary parts and tools to fix her car so she can leave before sundown, and that's what's going to happen," Killian affirmed as he braced his stance to a more dominant posture. The dispute had started to spike his adrenaline and Killian knew the release of excess testosterone between him and Walsh would draw others to the feud. He needed to get Swan out of there before more of Walsh's pack showed up. "Now take your hand off the lass."
"And what's a freak like you gonna do if I don't?" Walsh challenged.
The bell over the diner's door chimed and Killian's fear materialized in the form of three more Oz pack members. There was nothing for it, Killian was going to have to exert a bit of power over Walsh in order to protect his Swan. Even if it meant the worst possible outcome for him personally.
"I guess I'll just have to make you," Killian muttered darkly. He cast out his will, using his power of persuasion to permeate the diner as he caught the eye of each of its patrons, including a stunned and sorrowful Granny.
"I don't need you to make him," Emma snapped angrily, unaware of the compliance that had unwillingly beset itself upon her aggressor. "The only one who saves me, is me."
"Swan, don't!" Before Killian could stop her, Emma had her arm out of Walsh's grasp with his twisted behind his back and his face slammed against the counter. Killian's stunned response broke his concentration for a moment and a rumble filled the diner as the others reacted. "Everyone remain calm," Killian demanded as he took control of the atmosphere around him once more. "The lass and I are leaving." Killian set his attention on Emma. "Swan. Let him up."
Emma's brows shot up and her face went white with understanding. "Holy shit! You're… you're all-"
"Aye," he replied. His brow furrowed in confusion at her lack of compliance; an expression that only deepened as he noticed the absence of the telltale haze in her eyes that typically accompanied his use of persuasion over the mind. Was she not affected by it somehow? "I'll explain everything on our way out of town," he promised before turning toward Granny with mournful eyes.
"Go," the woman commanded. "I'll do what I can from here. You just go and keep her safe. Keep both of you safe."
Killian nodded, not trusting his voice enough to say anything more in that moment, then took Emma's arm and guided her towards the door.
"Hey!" she protested, trying to remove herself from his grip the way she had with Walsh. "I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell is going on!"
"I'm afraid we don't have that luxury," Killian argued, forcing her into the cab of his truck from the driver's side. "I'm not kidnapping you Swan, but I need to get us both out of town. I promised to explain on the way, and I shall, but first we need to get some distance between us and the packs."
"Packs? As in more than one?"
"Afraid so. Two to be exact." Putting the truck into gear he turned and sardonically quipped, "Welcome to werewolf country, love," before peeling out of the diner's parking lot.
"Oh, god. I didn't start some sort of pack war did I?"
Killian could smell the fear that thought created within her and reached over to lay his hand atop hers; an instinct that felt so natural, though he knew it shouldn't.
"It's a bit more complicated than that, love." He kept his tone soothing and took his own comfort in the fact that she hadn't flinched or pulled her hand away from his. "I promise to do all I can to see to it that you aren't blamed for my actions, though."
"Your actions? I'm the one that slammed a werewolf against the bar of the diner!" Emma's brows scrunched together as she pondered aloud, "How did I do that? I shouldn't have been able to do that. You're all so much stronger than humans are."
"You seem to know a bit about our kind," Killian pointed out curiously. "How did you realize what we were?"
"The sound," Emma answered with a shudder. "The collective growl they all made when I pinned down one of their own, and the way they all deferred to an Alpha."
"An Alpha?" Killian's head snapped towards her, taking his eyes off the road even as he sped toward the town line.
"Yeah. You," Emma replied. "That's why they all listened to you, isn't it? You're an Alpha of one of the packs?"
"Uh… not exactly. I'm-"
"Oh, god!" Emma cried out again. "I rejected and humiliated a werewolf on his turf on the day of the first full moon!"
The seriousness of her predicament was starting to settle in, but Killian knew he needed to give her the full picture of what he'd gotten them into. As soon as he got her calmed down, that is.
"He's not gonna come after me is he? You can talk to his Alpha, right? I assume you aren't his Alpha, or else he never would have challenged you in the first place. And what was all that about you bringing me into town, and making claims over me like some piece of-"
"Slow down, love," Killian advised. "Your heart's about to beat out of your chest. I need you to breathe."
Emma took a shaky breath and her gaze landed on their joined hands. Neither of them had even realized they'd linked their fingers together. She pulled her hand from his and the loss he felt at the action was sharper than any he'd experienced in quite some time.
"I'm not an Alpha," Killian corrected, setting aside his bewildering feelings to analyze later, and focused instead on the promised explanation. "I'm not a member of either pack, actually. I was orphaned at birth." Killian heard her sharp intake of breath, every muscle within her body tightened, but he sensed it was out of more than simple pity. "Granny raised me," he continued. "Her granddaughter is mate to one of the packs' leaders, and it's his benevolence that affords me the opportunity to remain in the area."
"A lone wolf?" Emma astonished. "I didn't think that was actually a thing. If Granny raised you, then why aren't you a member of her pack?"
"It's… complicated," Killian hedged, not ready to dive into that particular detail. "But, yes. Lone wolves are exceedingly rare, and not favorably looked upon. I've been fortunate to have Graham's aegis." Killian relaxed a bit as the town sign flew past the window of his truck, though fresh guilt began to churn in his gut at they way he'd just repaid the man for his generosity. "Storybrooke lies on the coastal boundary of both packs' territories. A charter was negotiated at its founding which established the town as neutral ground. It also includes provisions that offer protection to humans who might find themselves crossing through the territories, or who happen into town on their own."
"So, the charter will protect me?" Emma asked, hope lacing her words though her expression remained wary. "Even though I assaulted that guy?"
"I'm afraid my actions have complicated the matter," Killian said with contrition. "We are... discouraged from inviting humans into town as a matter of protection for both our kinds. If it had been anyone other than me to cause the infraction it would have probably been overlooked, seeing as how both packs could agree that having you here when the sun sets would not be ideal."
"Why anyone other than you? Because of the lone wolf thing?"
"Let's just say there are many within both packs that barely tolerate my existence, much less my presence."
"Let me guess," Emma embittered. "The Bitten at the diner is at the top of your fan list?"
Killian shot her a stunned look. "You really do know quite a lot about us. Tell me, love. How is it that you're so knowledgeable of… my kind?
Emma's face flushed and she tore her eyes from him, her attention fell to her hands fidgeting in her lap. "You can never be too careful in my line of work. You never know when the scumbag you're tracking could end up being something other than human."
Killian could tell from her demeanor, and the spike of adrenaline her discomfort of the subject caused, that there was more than just a need to be prepared. He could read between the lines enough to knowingly state, "Had a rather nasty run-in with a werewolf, I take it."
"No," she replied with clipped contempt. "A vampire, actually."
Bitterness and anger permeated the cab of his truck, and though his curiosity was heavily piqued, Killian held his tongue from questioning her further.
The yellow blur of her bug caught her attention prompting her to demand, "Where exactly are you taking me?"
"My place," Killian answered offhandedly before continuing with his explanation. "As I was saying about the charter-"
"Woah, woah, woah!" Emma interrupted. "Your place?" Her pulse began to race, and that beguiling blush returned to her cheeks. "I don't know what you think-"
"Your bug is still out of commission, Swan," Killian cut in. "And this road runs right through the pack territory the Bitten back at the diner belongs to. I'm simply trying to get us both to neutral ground so I can check-in with Granny and get an idea of what we're facing from the fallout back in town. For all we know, Walsh and his cronies are in pursuit of us at this very moment. My home is the safest place for us to wait for news, then we can figure out the best way to get you away from this mess. I have no intention of keeping you there against your will, but we have limited options before us until I know more about what we are facing."
Her posture relaxed, evidence that she trusted his word and his intentions, and given the little he'd been able to deduce about her, he didn't take that trust lightly.
"How much further?" she asked as she peered over her shoulder out the rear window, most likely looking for any signs of them being followed.
"Another twenty minutes and we'll be there," he answered. He gave into the compulsion to touch her and laid a hand at her thigh. "I promise no harm will come to you, Swan. I'll do all that I can to see to that."
He took his eyes from the road to catch hers, hoping the intensity he could feel at the vow would be clearly expressed there. Her grateful smile and appreciative nod released a swell of protectiveness within him, but it was laced with an alarming amount of possession. Full understanding of Granny's earlier words broke over him as he was again overwhelmed by the allure of her scent. Bloody hell, he cursed internally. If his suspicions were correct, they may have an even bigger problem than angry wolves to contend with. Killian's earlier assessment became more pressing with each passing minute.
Emma Swan needed to get as far from this place, from him, as she could… while he was still willing and able to let her.
They had turned off the main road and on to a barely noticeable gravel drive that wove its way through the wooded landscape. After several minutes, a rustic cabin came into view. It was nestled among towering pines; a mix of stone and wood construction with a wide front porch and tall chimney that beckoned to Emma.
And why not? Everything associated with Killian Jones had beckoned to her thus far, why should the man's home be any different?
They'd fallen into a companionable silence after the assurances about his intentions. Emma still couldn't figure out why she was so quick to put her trust in him, he was little more than a stranger to her, and yet. There was just something about the man she couldn't wrap her head around, and it wasn't the fact that he was a werewolf. She had done her research, had even met a few before him, but something about Killian Jones made him different, even by werewolf standards.
He had an animalistic yet elegant quality about him. A grace one wouldn't normally associate with his kind. He had exuded prediatory dominance when he'd faced off against the other wolf, but not in an overly possessive way. Protectiveness over her seemed to have been his driving force from the moment he'd pulled over to help, though Emma couldn't image why. Guilt prickled over her skin. All he'd tried to do was help her, to keep her safe, and she'd gone and picked a fight with a Bitten hours before the full moon.
Now here he was opening his cabin to her, literally inviting trouble into his home.
The inside was cozy and welcoming. A small kitchen was situated towards the back, past the front living space that was dominated by the large stone fireplace. There were two doors, one across from the kitchen and one just off to its side. Emma assumed that the first led to his bedroom, while the other was likely a pantry, or perhaps a water closet. Though, minimal in its decor, the space filled her with a sense of warmth and comfort; the kind of place she'd always longed to call home. She could appreciate the appeal the solitude afforded, even if it wasn't strictly his choice.
"Make yourself at home," he offered as he tossed his keys on a small table by the door. "The bathroom's located through the bedroom if you've need of it. I'll call Granny and see what I can find out."
He'd already informed her that while there was no cell service on the main road between the two packs' territories, they would be able to get a call out from his cabin.
Emma had just turned the knob to open the door he'd gestured to when she heard a woman's voice screech through the phone in lieu of a greeting.
"Killian Jones do you have some kind of death wish?!"
"Bloody hell, Ruby!" he exclaimed, pulling the phone from his ear with a wince. "You don't have to yell, my hearing is quite acute I'll have you know."
"Don't you dare make jokes," the woman snarled. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
Emma watched Killian release a resigned breath and hang his head before replying, "Aye. I have an idea. Where's Granny?"
There was a long pause, and Emma could only guess that the phone on the other end was changing hands. In the span of those waiting moments Killian's demeanor shifted.
"Granny. I'm… I'm so sorry." His voice came out strained and choked with emotion as he addressed the older woman who was now on the line, and Emma thought it best to give him some space.
Slipping into his room, she closed the door softly behind her then made her way toward the restroom. Like the rest of his home, everything in these two rooms was warm and inviting despite the sparse decor and lack of displayed belongings. Light flooded the bedroom from the larger than expected picture windows along the back wall and the skylight that gave view to the canopy above her and the gray sky beyond.
After taking the opportunity to make use of the facilities and freshen up with a bit of cool water splashed on her face and neck, Emma sat on the edge of his bed by the door and waited. She could hear his murmured, dulcet tone, signaling that he was still on the phone, but he sounded further away than he had been when she'd left him to the call, leaving her unable to make out what was being said. It wasn't until she felt sure the conversation had ended that she made her way from his room, finding him seated on his couch with his phone clutched tightly in his hand.
The floorboard under her foot creaked, and though she knew he had to have heard the bedroom door open, it was this noise that prompted him to look up and meet her gaze. Emma's breath caught at the anguish and rage she saw in his eyes, and she was overcome with an inexplicable compulsion to comfort him.
"Killian? What did she say?" she inquired softly as she made her way to him.
Before she could settle herself next to him on the couch, he sprang from his seat. "You have to go," he stated firmly, grabbing his keys from where he'd tossed them when they'd first entered. "Take my truck and get as far from here as fast as you can."
Emma stared at the keys dangling from his hand. "Why? What did Granny say?"
"They're coming," he declared, pressing the keys into her hand then locating her bag and handing it over as well, "You have to get out of here. Head north and don't stop until you reach the border."
He guided her toward the door and it took Emma's mind a minute to truly catch up with what he was saying. "The border? You mean Canada?"
"Aye. You won't have to crossover. There's a vampire community just before. Any wolves that might follow you won't dare enter their territory. You'll be safe there."
Emma stared at him. The man had clearly lost his mind if he thought she'd be safe among vampires. "Are you crazy?! I'm not hiding out among a brood of vampires!"
"There's no time to argue, Swan. Walsh and the other three wolves from the diner are on their way here now."
Emma's stomach dropped. "For me?"
"No," he replied. The lie was quick off his tongue, but he amended his statement before she could call him on it. "Maybe." He ran a hand through his hair, clutching at the strands in the back as his jaw tightened and began to tick. "They're definitely coming for me. Granny wasn't sure what their intentions were with you, but I'm not about to let you wait around and find out."
Killian reached around her to open the door. She placed her hand on his forearm, stalling his movement and their eyes met.
"Then come with me." Emma was almost as shocked by her invitation as his expression revealed him to be. If events were moving more slowly, she might have had time to examine and rebuke these impulses. She would bury the desire to trust, to care for, to rely on this man she barely knew instead of allowing panic and fear over his safety swell within her to the point of spilling over.
Killian's gaze softened and she saw his brief consideration of the idea flicker behind his eyes. "I can't. In another hour I'll be forced to transform. I can't do that in the truck. It wouldn't be safe for either of us, and you can't afford to waste those precious moments the delay of their transformation will give you by allowing time for mine." He lifted his gaze and swept it over their surroundings as he continued, "It may not look like much, but this cabin is fortified to be able to withstand whatever Walsh and cronies have planned."
"They're coming here to kill you aren't they?" Emma's chest constricted as that reality finally set in.
"They're certainly going to try," Killian muttered darkly, his jaw muscle pulsing again under the strain.
Emma's grasp on his forearm tightened, her panic shuddering through each breath as she despaired, "Oh, god. This is all my fault."
"No, Swan. It's mine," he argued. "Which is why you have to go. I won't endanger your life any more than I already have."
"So, what? I'm just supposed to leave you here to die?"
A soft smile lifted at the corner of his mouth, and he reached out to brush a section of her hair over her shoulder, leaving a ripple of goose flesh in its wake. "You don't have to worry about me, love. If there's anything I'm good at, it's surviving." He grasped the knob and began opening the door. "Now, let's get you out of here. There isn't much time."
Emma leaned back against the door, slamming it closed. "No."
"No?" he echoed with confused and incredulous brows.
"I'm not leaving." Emma crossed her arms over her chest for emphasis and stared back at his astonished gaze.
"Swan." He pressed in closer, and her skin prickled in response to his proximity "You were right about Walsh. He is a Bitten. Most of his pack is, which means once they transform they'll remain in wolf form until the full moon cycle ends. That's four days. Are you really prepared to stay here for four days… with me?"
"Will you be a wolf the whole time?"
"No. I'm a Born," he replied. Although he must have suspected that she knew what that meant, he continued his explanation just to be sure. "With the exception of my compulsory transformation during the nights of the full moon, I have the ability to transform at will. I can revert back into human form during the day."
"And when you're in wolf form?"
The trepidation in her voice didn't escape either of their notice, though her resolve was still set in her posture.
"Borns have more control over the wolf than Bittens do," he said softly. Emma could hear the uncertainty in his tone, but once again he volunteered a clarification before she could question the authenticity of his answer. "I've never been confined with a human while in wolf form, though. I don't think… I don't want to harm you in any way, but I can't promise-"
"You won't." Emma had no idea where that vote of confidence came from, but she believed it wholeheartedly. A fact that had her ready to change her mind, and rush out the door for his truck.
"You can't know that, Swan," he countered, completely unaware of the internal battle waging inside her. "With the presence of other wolves around my home I'm liable to be aggressive and territorial." His hands flexed at his sides and Emma sensed that there was more tormenting him than just the unpredictability of his wolf nature.
"Maybe so," she said, "but we both know that they will be aggressive and territorial. Do you honestly think I'm better off out there on my own than in here with you?"
Killian's gaze swept over her face and flickered between her eyes. The answer was reflected in his now darkened stare and a small tremor ran over her skin at the truth that resided there. He slipped her bag off her shoulder and reached into her palm to retrieve his keys as further evidence to the decision they'd both come to.
She wasn't leaving.
"Come, Swan," he murmured. "We should make some preparations before they get here."
The perimeter alarm sounded on his phone just as Killian finished checking the security of the cellar. He and Swan had used the past thirty or so minutes to lock down his cabin. Replenishing the pile of logs next to the fireplace, drawing the curtains so the approaching pack wouldn't have a visual to the inside, taking stock of their resources, and bolting the door had all been accomplished just in time.
"They're here," Killian announced solemnly as he cleared the alarm notification.
During their moments of preparation he had detailed the many fortifications he had established over the cabin and the property. Impenetrable glass on the windows, a reinforced door, impact resistant roof, and a security system that notified him whenever something human sized or larger crossed the perimeter were all modifications he'd made over the years. His status as an outcast, and the unusual nature of his being, had made him a target for attacks before, but this situation would be entirely different than those he'd faced in the past. This one was sanctioned.
Though he'd known it was foolish, Killian had held out hope that perhaps Graham would offer his pack's protection, would intervene on his behalf, but according to Granny, that was not the case. Killian couldn't really blame the man. He'd made it clear from the beginning that his benevolence extended only so far. Killian had vowed to not stir up trouble, to adhere to the very letter and spirit of the charter that governed the peace between the packs. A vow he'd broken when he'd brought Emma into town, then used his unnatural ability against those he'd always claimed were his own kind.
The truth was, though… Killian did not have a kind of his own. So, it shouldn't surprise him that he stood alone now. Well, not truly alone.
She had stayed.
It had taken every ounce of determination to try and get her out the door. For as much as he feared what Walsh and his little pack of followers would do, he was more concerned with the growing obsession flooding his senses in regards to the fiery and enticing blonde. A concern that heightened when she refused to leave and he realized that even if she had changed her mind, he wouldn't have let her go. The guilt and shame over that admission churned in his gut every bit as much as the pressure he felt to keep her safe… and not just from the pack making its way up his drive.
Killian heard their vehicle come to a stop, and he pulled the curtain at the front window aside slightly. His skin buzzed at Swan's presence as she pressed herself close to him so she could peer out the small opening. The scent of her hair had him fighting the earlier urges to taste her, until a spike in her anxiety sobered him enough to register the foursome making their way toward the cabin. Pulling her back from the window, he kept his arms wrapped around her as Walsh began taunting them from the porch.
"You know that I can smell you in there," Walsh stated from the other side of the door.
The crunch of boots over the fallen leaves sounded in opposite directions as the other three began to circle the cabin. Knocks echoed from various points along the walls, causing a shiver to cascade over the woman in his arms. Killian growled in response to the fear they were eliciting from her and tightened his grip.
"I know she's in there with you." Killian heard the man take in a dramatic breath as if sniffing the air before he continued on smugly. "I can smell her from here." Nails scratched down the enforced surface of the door before the handle rattled violently. "I don't have to tell you how delicious she smells. I imagine that's why you took her from her car in the first place, huh?" His footsteps thumped along the boards of the porch until he paused at the window and began tapping at the glass. "Enjoy her while you can. If there's anything left of her after I tear your throat out, I'll be only too happy to finish her off… after we've had our fun with her, of course."
Emma's breath caught and Killian spun her around to face him. "Don't listen to him, Swan."
"He's the one you shouldn't have listened to," Walsh railed. "You've sealed your fate by choosing him, Swan. I bet he hasn't even told you the whole truth, has he?"
"What's he talking about?" Emma's voice quivered, despite the brave face she was attempting to put on. "What truth?"
"Come on out here, and I'll tell you," Walsh enticed. "You're not likely to get the full measure from him until it's too late."
Killian released Emma and stormed over to the window. Wrenching back the curtain, he caught Walsh's eyes and commanded, "Enough!" Killian heard Emma's heart pound erratically, and could feel the anger and menace pouring off his foe. The three others joined their leader and Killian claimed their gazes as well. "I know it's pointless to tell you to leave. You'll only come back once you've transformed. But you're done with the theatrics," Killian snarled. "Not another sound from the lot of you."
He snapped the curtain closed and turned to face a bewildered looking Emma.
"What was th-"
"Later," Killian clipped, taking her arm and guiding her to his bedroom. "We haven't much time until sundown." He could feel the vibrations in his nerve endings. The early warning system built into his nature, alerting him that transformation was imminent. "You are welcome to my bed," he offered. "I'll stay out in the living room." He rummaged through his closet for a moment until he located the item he'd been searching for. Pressing it into her hand, he said, "Take this. It's aerosolized silver, just in case… in case they somehow get in or I-"
"Killian." Emma's hand came up to rest at his cheek, startling him into silence. "I know there's more going on than you're telling me. Something more happened at the diner. Something you're afraid to tell me." Killian swallowed heavily and drew in a shaky breath. He dropped his gaze from hers, no longer able to look her in the eye. He knew he'd have to confess it to her sooner or later. "I want you to know that it's okay. You can tell me in your own time."
Killian flicked his stunned gaze back to hers and was overcome by the sincerity and acceptance he saw there. "Why?" he whispered.
Everything he knew about this woman, all he'd been able to presume from their limited time together, stood in stark contradiction before him, and all the whys from the day came slamming into his contemplations. Why had she chosen to come into town with him? Why had she chosen to stay? Why hadn't she shown a hint of fear with him? Why was she willing to let Walsh's taunts and accusations go unanswered? He didn't dare to hope that he might know the reason, it wasn't possible.
"You haven't given me any reason not to trust you," she responded before removing her hand from his cheek. "Although, I admit that isn't something I tend to do with people. Trust them, that is. Even so," she paused and took a moment to worry her lip before resolving whatever final argument she was engaging with herself, "despite everything. I'm going to choose to see the best in you."
Killian released a stuttered breath and watched as she placed the spray he'd given her on the bedside table before taking his hand. The urge to pull her in to him and lay claim to her mouth was almost overwhelming. If not for the quickly fading glow of the sunset coming in through the skylight and the flood of transformative hormones he could feel surging through his veins, he most certainly would have.
"I appreciate that, love," he breathed out in reply. "I'll endeavor to be deserving of that trust." A spasm rolled through him, causing him to drop Emma's hand before he could hurt her by gripping it too tightly. "The sun has almost set," he strained, grasping at his ribs where the pain always began.
"Right… um. Is there… I mean, what do you need to-"
"I just need to take care of some necessities," he answered. The more he resisted the change the more painful it would be, so he hurried to complete his final human tasks before offering, "I'll bring you your bag, but you're also welcome to use anything of mine you might have need of."
He moved on trembling legs out into the living room and located her satchel. He could feel her eyes on him as she waited in the doorway of his room, the concern she was exhibiting in response to his impending transformation permeated the air between them. Not just a concern born out of fear for herself, but one that revealed the anxiety she was experiencing on his behalf as well. After he extended the bag to her she hugged it tightly to herself while they both awkwardly waited for the other to say something that might alleviate the mounting tension.
Killian reached up and scratched at a tingling patch behind his ear. "There's a lock on the door. I'll understand if using it makes you feel more comfortable, just keep in mind that I won't be able to get to you quickly if-"
"I'll keep it unlocked," she said.
She wet her lips and he stood captivated by the movement for a moment longer before another tremor forced him out of the reverie. "Goodnight then, Swan."
"Goodnight, Killian." She gave him a soft, hesitant smile then closed the door.
Killian rested his forehead against the cool, wooden surface and willed himself to remain on this side of the door. His fingers shook as he brought his hands up to unbutton his shirt, and he finally moved away from the door when it came time to remove the remainder of his clothes. Oxytocin flooded his body in an effort to calm the process that Killian now surrendered to. The hormone gave his kind a higher tolerance for the pain, but it did not alleviate it altogether. Killian stifled his own cries as bone, sinew, muscle, and skin rendered its metamorphosis in order to spare his Swan from any further torment, but could hear the other four not offering that same courtesy.
His power of persuasion did not work on those in wolf form, the pack mentality was too strong. Which meant that once the transformations were complete, they'd be at the mercy of fresh harassment from the pack outside. Killian tried to not let that thought distract him as he endured the final agonies that would culminate in his wolf form.
Once the prickling twinges in his skin from the rapid growth of hair that now fully covered his canine body subsided, Killian stood and shook himself. His ears flicked to catch every sound available to him now that he could access higher frequencies, and his nose twitched at the bouquet of scents surrounding him. The most notable being that of the woman currently disrobing in the next room.
Killian reined in the instincts the fresh spark of bloodlust ignited within him and padded towards the sofa. He'd been able to keep his nature at bay while in human form, he could damn well do it as a wolf. He would not harm Emma Swan.
The rustle of leaves outside raised Killian's hackles. The awareness that intruders had camped themselves at the four corners of his cabin pulled a growl deep from within him, and he bared his teeth at the scratching sound coming from the front door. Howls echoed through the trees from off in the distance and the foursome joined their symphony of strife that was clearly meant to intimidate and frighten the targeted occupants within the cabin.
Granny had told him that only Walsh and his three cohorts had been sanctioned to seek out retribution for the crime he'd committed against them, but it seemed others within their pack had decided to partake in a bit of mental warfare with a barrage of cries that were surely meant to last until sunrise.
Killian swivelled an ear and homed in on his bedroom, attempting to gauge how Emma was faring under the onslaught. The sheets rustled and he heard the clicking of taps against her phone screen before music began to play. She'd apparently turned on a music app in an attempt to drown out the howls reverberating against the night. More rustling from her caught his attention, then the music suddenly stopped. Perhaps she had put in earbuds to help further dampen the cacophony?
Clever lass.
Killian settled onto the couch, on guard for any signs that Walsh and the others were trying to make their way inside. He felt reasonably sure there was no way for them to do that, but he wasn't taking any chances. As the howling continued outside, Killian alternated his focus between it and the soft cadence of Swan's breathing. The rhythm wasn't even enough for her to be asleep yet, not that he expected her to be, but it was calmer than before. The earbuds must be working.
Gradually over the course of the night many of the pack's noises subsided, and Emma finally drifted off to sleep. Once he deduced that at least two of the intruders had done the same, Killian curled himself up and began to doze as well. He couldn't be sure how long he'd slept before a new sound woke him. Ears perked, Killian lifted his head and surveyed the room. A quick sniff to the air told him that rain was on its way, but it wasn't close enough yet for the thunder to have woken him up. So what had?
There it was again; a distinct sniffling sound coming from the next room, followed by a whimper. That's when he heard the next noise. A growl.
Killian sprang from the couch and loped to the bedroom door. Lifting himself onto his hind legs, he pushed down on the lever handle with his paw and nuzzled his way through the door. Emma sat up startled and reached for the silver spray that still sat on the bedside table. Killian skidded to a halt and caught her gaze, panic reflected in both of their eyes. Emma was clearly distraught, her eyes wide and red rimmed with a slight sparkle from the moonlight streaming in through the skylight.
"Killian?" she whispered hesitantly.
He inched forward and nuzzled her wrist with his nose in response. Her scent washed over him, it didn't inflame his senses with bloodlust this time. Instead he felt a primal need to protect, to defend what was his. To offer comfort and security. To end whatever threat was causing her distress, which reminded him of the growling. He stalked toward the windows, a deep growl of his own emanating from the back of his throat. After a few moments of posturing with his unseen foe, it grew silent on the other side of the curtained window. Killian waited a moment more before turning back to the bed where Emma was still upright, her body tense and emotions raw.
"The, uh… the battery died," she said, holding up her phone which still had her earbuds plugged in. "I don't know why I let it get to me. The growling, I mean. It just…" Her chin quivered and she turned her head to brush away fresh tears, probably hoping he wouldn't notice and forgetting the acuity of his night vision in this form. "Thanks for, uh, for handling it. I'll be okay now. You don't need to stay."
Killian cocked his head to one side and huffed. Like hell he was going to leave her alone now.
Gently, he leapt onto the bed and circled the empty space next to her before finding a comfortable place to lie down. He felt the bed shift beneath him as Emma settled back under the covers. He'd almost fallen back asleep when he felt her hand run along his side, petting his coarse, black fur from his shoulders to his haunches. A satisfied rumble vibrated through his chest at the knowledge that she felt comfortable enough to touch him in this form, and he raised his head to offer a grateful lick to the back of her hand.
Emma chortled sleepily, "Thank you for staying."
Her hand came to rest along his ribs and her breathing evened out moments later. Killian repositioned his head so he could watch her as she slept. Her blonde locks glowed silver, and her face was free of the worry and strain that had beset it earlier. Killian didn't think he'd ever met a more stunning creature than Emma Swan. She was tough and brave and beautiful and strong. He'd known her for less than a day, but he couldn't deny what his instincts had been telling him from the moment of their meeting.
He would go to the ends of the world for her. Which was fitting, seeing as how after that day, he had nowhere else to go.
Emma groaned and stretched. The patter of rain urged her to snuggle back beneath the covers before she could open her eyes to the day. She rolled and clutched the extra pillow in her arms. A contented sigh left her, but as her lungs filled themselves with the surrounding air she was struck by the scent that brimmed her sinuses. The events of the day before came barreling into her consciousness and her eyes popped open.
A pang of disappointment ran through her at the realization the wolf was no longer with her. Though, he probably wasn't in wolf form any longer. Emma rolled on her back, looked up at the skylight and day beyond, but could only make out a haze of stormy clouds through the droplets that had collected on the glass. It felt late, and after the cries and howls that had haunted her throughout the night, the soothing quiet of the morning's precipitation was almost unnerving.
Emma peeled back the covers and padded over to the still shrouded picture window. She drew the curtain back and peered out at the sheets of rain making their way through the canopy above. Lightning flashed a second before the boom of thunder shook the cabin, startling Emma. Which apparently alerted a member of the menacing pack to her position; for just as she recovered from the start the storm had given her, a giant, teeth baring, snarling wolf lunged at the window before her.
Emma gasped and stumbled backward, hitting the hard planes of Killian's chest behind her. Strong arms circled her waist and warm breath caressed her neck as he assured her, "It's just me, love. You're safe." Emma melted against him, all thoughts of the danger outside pushed aside in favor of savoring the feel of his arms and the security she found there.
"You alright there, Swan?"
His inquiry broke through the pleasant reverie and Emma suddenly felt self-conscious at having her back plastered against his chest. Stepping out of his embrace, she took a steadying breath and was hit with the rich mix of masculinity she'd been appreciating since he'd first leaned over to take a look at her engine. Had that really been just yesterday?
"Swan?" he prompted.
Emma realized she'd never responded. She'd been too caught up in his scent to register the question. "Yeah, uh… s-sorry." She took another step back and shook the cobwebs from her head. "I can't… I can't think clearly when you're around."
Killian reached back and scratched behind his ear as he admitted, "It's the pheromones. They're always a bit more… potent during a full moon."
"So you don't always smell this good?"
"Are you suggesting that I smell good?" He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and teased his brows at her, causing heat to rush towards her cheek. He chuckled at the evident blush that had bloomed across her face. "It's alright, Swan. I know what you meant." His gaze softened and he studied her closely. "How are you this morning, though? How are you feeling after… last night?"
"Fine," she blurted. He cocked his head and gave her the same skeptical look his wolf-self had the night before. It was uncanny how much of his personality translated between both forms. "Okay, maybe not fine, but I'm hanging in there, or… whatever."
"I hope my presence didn't detract from you getting some decent rest," he commented with a heavy dose of self-castigation set on brows and in his tone.
"No," Emma assured, reaching out to place a hand on his arm. "Not at all. I… I appreciated you being there." His smile returned, as did the longing within her to be wrapped in his arms again. Emma cleared her throat and asked, "How long have you been up?"
"Since a little after dawn," he replied. "My body defaults back to my human form when the sun rises, so I was awakened by the transformation. The relaxed state of slumber makes it a much easier to endure, but it's difficult to fall back asleep once its complete." A wash of red swept up his neck and tipped his ears as he continued. "Plus, there was the small matter of my being naked afterward."
Emma's eyes widened and she felt her heart rate pick up speed. The knowledge that she had been in bed with a naked Killian Jones sent a swoop through her belly that settled between her legs. She felt her breathing labor as she wet her lips; an action that was met with a quirked brow from the man before her. The man who wasn't really a man, but a werewolf. A werewolf with heightened senses that could probably deduce rather easily the effect he was having on her.
"So, you got up after you transformed?"
An amused grin broke across his face, and both brows engaged at the humor he found in her question. "Something like that," he responded cheekily, eyeing her up and down with an overly salacious look.
Emma flushed in mortification over the implication of her words. "That's not what I meant!"
"No? Well, that's a pity," he teased as he took a step towards her. "There are a number of things I'd like to get up to with you." Emma swallowed heavily and found it hard to draw in a full breath. Her eyes landed on his lips, intently watching as his tongue swept along the lower before he drew it between his teeth. "For example," he murmured huskily, "might you feel up to having," he paused and Emma was sure her heart was about to hammer out of her chest. Desperation for him to finish his request, so she could simply agree to whatever he wanted coursed through her, "a bite with me?"
Wait, what?!
Emma huffed in exasperation and rolled her eyes. He'd been teasing her. Of course he'd been teasing her, making her think he had something more torrid in mind than having a bite to eat. She gave him a withering glare, which only broadened his grin, but not before she caught a look of something within his eyes. Something that had her second guessing her assessment that he'd been teasing. That's when she realized he hadn't said a bite to eat, he'd just said a bite.
"Apologies, Swan," he said with a chuckle. "I couldn't resist. Now, what say you to a spot of lunch? I'm afraid you've slept through any reasonable hour for breakfast, as it's already 11:30, but we could manage an early lunch if you'd like."
"As long as I can still have a cup of coffee, I'm good," Emma agreed, relieved that her pulse seemed to be normalizing, along with her breathing, now that he'd taken a few steps toward the door.
"I think I can arrange that," he replied. "Take all the time you need to tend to your usual routine and I'll have a cup waiting for you."
Killian shut the door behind him, and an ache immediately set into what felt like the very center of her being. What the hell was going on with her? So much had happened in such a short span of time, and Emma was still trying to reconcile everything she'd experienced, felt, and decided upon since meeting Killian Jones. He had her considering things she never would have thought herself capable. Like accepting his help and getting in his truck in the first place, or agreeing to stay with him over the course of the full moon knowing full well what he was, even allowing him to sleep beside her in his wolf form. Not to mention her admission that she was going to choose to see the best in him. It all boiled down to one thing.
Trust.
She absolutely trusted the man, and that might have been the most perplexingly scary thing she'd faced since… well… in a long time. Which was saying something considering the pack of wolves outside ready to tear out both of their throats.
Emma pushed the tempest from her mind and focused on getting herself cleaned up. It had become her habit to always carry some necessities with her, a hold over from her days in foster care when she learned to keep her belongings close because circumstances could change quickly. So, although she'd left her overnight bag in the bug, she had a spare toothbrush, deodorant, and change of underwear in the bag she'd brought with her.
She'd slept in her t-shirt and the leggings she also kept in her bag, but opted to change back into her jeans. Killian had said she was welcome to anything of his, so she took that as permission to peruse his closet for a fresh shirt, and his chest of drawers for warmer socks. Slipping the soft fabric over her head, Emma relished the now familiar aroma and couldn't help the smile it brought to her face to be surrounded by his scent. She was absolutely losing her mind, but at least she'd be comfortable doing it.
It dawned on her as she exited the bedroom that she hadn't heard any evidence of the pack since one of them had lunged at the window earlier. Killian was in the beginning stages of getting a fire started, and she was about to ask him about the pack when she heard the sound of something tromping across the roof.
Emma snapped her head up at the ceiling. "Is that them?" she asked incredulously.
"Aye," Killian answered. "I wondered how long it would take them to gain access to the roof. I suspect they manipulated the wood pile to create something of a ladder."
Flames began to dance along the hearth once Killian succeeded in getting the kindling lit. A thought dawned on Emma as she watched him place a few logs on the growing fire.
"Did you start a fire so they can't get in that way?"
"The Big Bad Wolf get in through the chimney? Not by the hair of my chinny-chin-chin." he quipped with a smirk and a wink.
Emma rolled her eyes while trying to suppress her amusement. "You did not just make a Three Little Pigs joke."
"Oh, come now, Swan. That was quality drollery, and you know it."
"Sure… if I knew what drollery meant," she sassed. "That course you teach isn't about using antiquated language in everyday conversation, is it?"
"It might interest you to know that I've lived during a time when that antiquated language was used in everyday conversation. Werewolves are long-lifers."
"So, what are you? Like… almost a hundred or something?"
"Closer to two actually."
Emma's brows shot up at that news. "Wait, what? I thought werewolves only lived to upwards of three to four hundred years old. You don't look more than thirty in human years. If you're really two hundred, then you should you look closer to sixty since it takes about three and half years for werewolves to physically age one."
"You're full of compliments this morning, love," he skirted. "First telling me you like how I smell, and now saying I look good for my age. A man could develop quite the ego in your company."
"I don't think you need my help with that," she jabbed. "And don't think I didn't notice how you avoided my question."
"What question?" he asked innocently. "I seem to remember you merely pointing out the average lifespan of werewolves, and the ratio of wolf to human years. I don't remember a question being posed."
Emma opened her mouth to pose the very question he seemed to be avoiding when a loud thud echoed from above their heads, reminding them of the beastly problem that was quite literally on top of them.
"Bloody hell," Killian muttered under his breath. "I'm going to have to do something about the skylight."
"The skylight?"
"Aye. They can't get through it, but I don't think either of us want them to be able to peer down into the bedroom while you sleep."
"Uh, no. Definitely not."
"Stay here and I'll go find a way to cover it. You're welcome to get started on lunch if it'll help you take your mind off of… things."
As Killian retreated into the bedroom, Emma wondered which things he hoped to take her mind off of. The wolves, or his continued evasiveness. She reminded herself that she'd agreed to let him tell her things in his own time, and that they were really little more than strangers to one another. Although… Emma couldn't help but admit that he didn't feel like a stranger to her. Even still, it wasn't as if she'd been an open book with him, either. She wasn't sure she was ready to share her story anymore than he appeared to be, so she'd do exactly what she'd promised him she'd do. She'd wait.
While she made lunch.
Emma found the coffee he'd made for her on the counter, along with a number of ingredients that suggested tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches were on the day's menu. She began slicing cheese when she heard murmured utterances along with the muffled sound of hammering. Every so often she would catch expressions like sod off, fleabag, and bloody Bittens and could only assume he was engaging with whichever wolf, or wolves, had taken up residence on the roof. The soup was just starting to simmer and the sandwiches were browning on the stove when he emerged from the room.
"Something smells good."
"It's just the soup and grilled cheese."
"I didn't mean the food," he whispered into her ear, the warmth of his body radiating onto her back.
Emma gasped, her actions stilled by his words as she waited anxiously for him to make the next move.
"Anyway, that ought to do the trick," he shared, stepping back from her, making her miss him instantly even as she cursed him under her breath for his continued teasing. "I nailed an old blanket to the ceiling. It'll be rather dark in there tonight, but at least you won't have any unwelcomed voyeurs."
"As opposed to welcomed ones?" she questioned with a raised brow.
"Point taken. Although," he purred, "voyeurism can be quite welcomed under the right circumstances."
"I'll take your word for it." She wasn't taking the bait this time.
"Feel free to take more than my word from me, love. Though," he looked her up and down before raising his own brow, "it seems you already have."
"Hey, you said I was welcome to your stuff," she reminded.
"That I did," he relented. "And I must say, my shirt looks quite fetching on you." Emma's capillaries were going to burst if her cheeks kept blushing like this. "Shall we eat?"
They tucked themselves into hearty bowls of soup and gooey sandwiches of cheesy goodness while listening to the continued downpour outside. The thuds had ceased from the roof, and Killian suspected the pack had found some place to wait out the remaining storm where they could still keep watch.
After finishing their meal, they worked together to clean up the kitchen before retiring to the living room, agreeing to spend the afternoon reading. Emma was washing up the final pieces of cutlery when the knife she'd used on the cheese slipped from her soapy grasp. Without thinking she grabbed for it before it could fall to the floor, catching it by the blade and slicing her hand in the process.
"Son of a bitch!" she exclaimed as the knife clattered against the floor.
"Swan? Are you-"
Fixated on the blood dripping from her hand, Emma didn't notice the change that had come over Killian.
"Your hand. It's cut," he whispered.
Emma stuck her hand under the cool water running at the faucet and assured, "It's fine."
"No. It's not," he replied tensely.
"Sure it is. See?"
Emma held out her hand to him. He stiffened and took a startled breath in as his eyes suddenly flashed red. Alarmed by the flicker of crimson, Emma watched as his tongue swept over his upper teeth. That's when she saw them.
Fangs.
Emma stumbled backward, but Killian caught her by the wrist with reflexes more acute than she'd ever seen. His gaze was fixed firmly on the cut on her hand, and Emma watched in paralyzed fascination as Killian's tongue slowly wet his lips. Whether by fear, or some forbidden intrigue that had her pulse racing with curious anticipation, Emma couldn't say. All she knew was that when he started to bring her hand up towards his mouth, she didn't, couldn't, pull away.
If anything, she wanted to draw closer to him.
Emma didn't know what she'd expected him to do, but bending his head to inhale deeply over her wrist surprised her. The tip of his nose and slightly parted lips ghosted over her skin as his eyes fluttered shut while he savored her scent. An experience that sent a ripple of wonder over her entire body.
She drew in a stuttered breath and his eyes snapped open. His pupils were blown wide with only a faint rim of midnight outlining them. She recognized the heat of his gaze, the predatory expression. It was lust, but not the kind she would usually attribute to a man who looked wantonly at a woman he desired. This was different.
Blood lust.
But werewolves didn't experience blood lust in human form.
"Killian?" Emma exhaled, her fear now overriding her captivation.
His name and her tone shook him from whatever state had taken hold of him, and he released her wrist as if it had burned him. Red flashed in his eyes again and he spun around, putting his back to her as he anchored himself to the counter.
"Swan," he whispered in a strained voice. "I need you to go lock yourself in my room and tend to that wound."
"Killian, what...?" she questioned breathlessly.
"Please, Emma. Go," he grit out. "I don't want to hurt you."
Emma heeded his words and hurried toward the bedroom, stumbling slightly as she rounded the island. Before closing the door, she looked back at Killian and watched as he peeled off his shirt. The muscles in his back rippled under his skin and Emma realized he was forcing himself to transform.
A pained moan escaped his lips before he grunted, "Lock the door, Emma."
She did as instructed.
It had been hours since Emma had sequestered herself in Killian's room. She'd stupidly gone to his bathroom first in search of something to disinfect and bandage the cut on her hand, forgetting that as a werewolf, or whatever he was, Killian wouldn't have need of those things. His body healed too quickly to have use of them. Fortunately, she kept a small first-aid kit in her bag which had her patched up in no time.
With nothing more to distract her, Emma had listened at the door as Killian completed his transformation. She could only guess that he'd hoped to have more control over the blood lust her wound had sparked within him while in his wolf form. The agitated whimpers and unsettled movements that had followed didn't seem to support that theory, though. Neither did the frantic scratches that alternated between the door and the floor just outside it; behaviour that had whipped the other wolves into a frenzy, causing them to mimic the actions at the bedroom windows and on the roof above.
She knew he could have gotten through the door if he'd really wanted to, so she took comfort in the fact that his wolf nature seemed to be winning the war against the bloodlust. It had taken some time for him to settle himself, but once he did, the others started to abandon their tactics as well. Now things were quiet, minus the persisting rain that was still coming down like cats and...
Emma sat with her back against the door and tried to reconcile what she'd seen with what she knew. Killian was a werewolf. She'd seen him in his wolf state, had felt the softness of his coat, and had recognized the man within from the same forget-me-not eyes that had stared back at her while he was curled up at her side. He had a heightened sense of smell, hearing, and sight like all werewolves did. But then again… so did other species of arcane creatures.
Other species that masqueraded as humans, though they possessed great strength, sharp senses, and even sharper fangs. Creatures whose eyes flashed red when the call of bloodlust became too great to ignore, who could manipulate the weaker, mortal minded, and didn't age.
But Killian couldn't be one of them. Could he? It was impossible. Right?
Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, as they'd done on and off again for the past few hours. She didn't know what to do. There was a pack of vengeful wolves outside the cabin, and something she didn't even know how to classify in the next room. What if he couldn't regain control? What if he had to stay in wolf form for the remainder of the full moon? Was he still safe to be around in his transformed state?
A soft knock at the door jarred Emma from her thoughts.
"Swan?"
The sound of his voice had her scrambling to her feet, and for a brief moment she nearly complied with her instinct to open the door.
"I know you're just on the other side of the door." He sounded wrecked and exhausted. Emma's heart constricted in her chest at the defeated tone that laced his words. "I'm so sorry, Emma. I should have… I should have told you sooner. Please believe that I never meant to put you in harm's way. I thought… I thought I could control it."
"Control what, exactly?" Emma questioned with a bit more severity than she'd meant to. "Killian, after what I saw in the kitchen, if I didn't know any better, I would think you were a… a vampire. But you can't be. You're a werewolf. I've seen it. So what are you?"
"I'm both," Killian confessed quietly. "A hybrid."
"H-How is that even possible? I didn't think vampire blood was capable of turning a werewolf anymore than transformative bites from a werewolf could change a vampire."
"It isn't."
"Then how?"
"Best guess," he offered. "It happened when a vampire attacked and killed my entire family while I was still in my mother's womb."
"Oh, Killian." Emma closed her eyes at the horror he'd just spoken of, and turned to rest her head against the door. "You don't have to tell me."
"No, I… I want to. I don't want you to be afraid of me."
She wanted to argue. Wanted to tell him that she wasn't afraid of him, but they both knew that wasn't the complete truth. The still firmly closed and locked door attested to that. She'd put her trust in him only to have it met with a horrific truth that was so unfathomable she'd never even thought to question her safety when she'd injured herself. A mistake that could have cost her life.
But it hadn't.
Killian had fought against his nature to the point of exchanging one for the other in the hopes that he wouldn't hurt her. He could have drained her of every ounce of blood in her body. Could have forced her to drink his with the intent to turn her. He'd slept beside her in wolf form and she'd never once felt a twinge of worry that he'd turn on her while she slept. Why was she so willing to put her faith in his wolf nature, but not the… other one?
Emma knew exactly why. It was because of him. The only man Emma had ever opened herself up to, only to find out he wasn't a man at all. Emma shuddered at the memory and swallowed back the bile thoughts of that man always brought up.
"Swan?" Killian called out softly from the other side of the door. A door he could have ripped off its hinges by now. He would have, but Killian wasn't him.
Emma released the lock and turned the knob. Killian stood on the other side, a look of contrition and concern on his face as his eyes searched hers.
"I don't want to be afraid of you either."
END PART ONE