Twisted Souls (Edited) 3rd Edition

Chapter 7

The air was hot, hotter that it had been in the city and the forest the past month. A nasty cold front had decided to settle quite comfortably throughout the region, creating crisp winter air when summer was supposed to be on. Not really cold and not really warm in her animal form, her human form suffered from the lingering heat. Kaya shuffled the sheets tangled in her legs. Finally getting annoyed, the naked chest of the native popped into view as she lifted up to chuck away the offending material to only settle back into the bed and snuggle more with the hard and very naked chest of a certain male.

Her hazel eyes opened slowly, trying to remember what felt so different. She didn't sleep with anyone–she wasn't much of a social drinker–so why couldn't she remember? The rumbling force that thundered into her naked, tattooed, and scarred back suggested otherwise. "Morning Kaya."

Kaya blinked. Then blinked a few more times, trying to wrap her head around the situation. "Ian?" She finally asked, turning her head and meeting brown eyes. "Ian." Holy shit . . . Betsy's voice flitted through her mind, "It's not what you think."

"Betsy?" She whispered out loud, surprised. It wasn't near the full moon; the animal spirit shouldn't be so close to escap ing. Oh. The blue eyes of Kaya's widen to their full extent. Memories assaulted her from the past three weeks. The chase, the change, the attack: all of it. Unseeing, Kaya lifted her hand up and touched Ian's face. He tilted his cheek further into the native's palm. The emotions spilling through her eyes amused and concerned him.

"Who's Betsy?" He whispered, smiling against the fleshy part of her palm. She wasn't listening. Instead, caution was thrown out as she leaned in and captured his lips. The reaction was immediate. Ian placed his hands on her hips and drew her closer, twisting strands of her long hair in his fingers. It never went further than that. Both were aware that more could come easily, but neither could do that for various reasons. Kaya leaned back, sucking in air as she closed her eyes and sighed. "I've been wanting to do that the moment you walked in that first day." She admitted, a small grin playing on her lips.

"Then why didn't you?"

"Same reason why I suppressed my spirit, Betsy."

Ian frowned. "Why did you name your spirit animal Betsy?"

Kaya looked up at her mate, uncertainty in her green orbs. How could she begin to explain it? Suppressing your spirit like she had had certain repercussions. Dangerous repercussions. Ian noticed her withdrawal and frowned. "You can trust me, mi amor."

"What language was that?" She asked instead, furrowing her eyebrows. Ian rose an eyebrow and flicked his eyes to her right arm. When his fingertips started tracing the native language, Kaya shivered. His guttural voice made her jerk.

"'May the warm winds of Heaven blow softly upon your house.'" The solemnity of his voice was not something she had expected to come from him. "You have Cherokee inked into your skin and yet you don't know Spanish?"

Her eyes shifted down and to the left as something flickered in them. "My family was killed when I was young." She whispered, not looking up. Her eyes bore into the patterned pillowcase. Her plump lips tugged down at the corners. "I was captive for years at that point."

Ian was holding his breath, watching every emotion he could read. The dip in her cheeks, the contractions of her lips–every movement fascinated him. Her actions and her words didn't match, but somehow, he knew they were truth.

Then Kaya spoke again, "I escaped, but it never took them long to find me." Finally, her eyes met his, imploring deeply into his mind; into his very soul. "After most of a year of on the run, I learned that they were tracking my dual spiritness. They had their sights zeroed in on my white wolf and . . ." A sob tore from Kaya's throat unexpectedly.