Dare, Lydia - Tall, Dark and Wolfish

Elspeth raised her hand to Ben's cheek. He immediately turned into it and nipped the center of her palm with his teeth.

"Ye do have a bit of the beast in ye, I'd wager," she said, feeling a tickle as it crawled up her spine.

"More than a bit, lass," he growled as his hand cupped her neck and pulled her to him. "When you touched my mark, I felt like I would shift into a wolf right here and now."

"Is it gettin' better, then?" She raised her hands to his chest.

"Not yet," he breathed as his lips hovered over hers. His exhale became her inhale.

"I like the beast," she said as her hand slipped down to his waistband. She felt an intense desire to stroke his mark again.

"Don't touch me there, lass," he said as he took her hands in his and raised them to his mouth. He nipped the pad of her finger between his teeth. "I'm already close enough to taking you now."

"Takin' me?" she asked.

"Taking you beneath me," he breathed. "Taking your clothes off. Taking your innocence." Moisture flooded her center as he said the last.

"And if I said yes, Ben?"

His hands fell to his waist and he took a step back from her, a strange look in his eyes.

"I'll assume that's a no," she mumbled as her eyes dropped to the path. She hadn't thought he'd reject her.

"What the devil?" he hissed.

Elspeth raised her eyes, this time taking his whole body in. His polished boots were wrapped in vines, anchoring him solidly to the forest floor. His wrists were bound in a similar fashion.

"Sorcha Ferguson!" Elspeth cried. "Call off yer vines. The man was only goin' ta kiss me!"

Sorcha stepped into view, an unrepentant tilt to her head. "He wanted much more than

that

, El."

Ben had never known ivy to be so strong. It was nearly impossible for him to move, and he was stronger than most. The vines tightened around his wrists, holding him, cutting into his skin. He felt the growl building in his chest as the wolf in him chafed at being held captive. He tamped down the rage and faced the little chit who'd done this to him.

Apparently he'd stumbled upon Sorcha Ferguson's power. He'd never heard of one using botanical manipulation as a weapon before, and he was a little surprised that the lass had used her ability in front of him. Wasn't she afraid of exposing the coven?

Elspeth closed the distance between them and tugged on one of the vines binding his wrists. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Then she turned her gaze to the young dark-haired witch. "Ye ken the rules, Sorcha."

The girl shrugged. "Cait said the rules doona apply ta him."

"What are ye talkin' about?" Elspeth's gaze danced from person to person.

"He's no' a real man. If he says anythin' about us, we'll tell everyone what he is."

Ben gasped. "You told them?" She'd just finished promising him that she could keep a secret.

Elspeth looked back at Ben, worry on her lovely face. "No, I swear no'. Though I suppose I do owe ye an explanation."

He would have gestured for her to continue, but he still couldn't move his arms. "I'm waiting."

She bit her bottom lip and took a step away from him. "Sorcha, if ye doona release him, I'll take an ax and hack them away from him."

In the next instant, Ben felt the vines loosen then fall away from his arms and legs. He stepped away from the ivy, toward Elspeth. "An explanation," he reminded her, though he had a fairly good idea what she would say.

She sighed deeply and flushed red. "Sorcha, a moment if ye doona mind."

The dark-haired lass shook her head. "I'll no' leave ye alone with the likes of him."

Elspeth raised herself high and glared at the younger witch. "It's no' yer decision. Now, be off."

After one more pointed glare in his direction, the girl vanished back into the foliage. Ben rubbed his wrists. Damn if they weren't sore. "The chit can make vines do her bidding?"

Elspeth's eyes fell to his feet, and she winced. "I had hoped I wouldna have ta tell ye this, Ben. I'm no' just a healer who works with herbs."

"You're a witch," he finished for her.

Her gaze shot to his. "How do ye ken that?"

Fifteen

Elspeth was certain her face was aflame. How did the man know she was a witch? Other than the fact that Sorcha had just used her vines to tie him up?

It was something no one spoke of outside of the

Còig—well, other than within their families. After all, i

t wasn't all that long ago that witch hunts in Scotland had decimated the population, though not everyone put to death had been guilty of the

crime. Still, generation afte

r generation had protected the members of the coven. Yet Benjamin Westfield somehow knew she was a witch?

He took a step toward her. "That's why I was looking for Rosewyth. She wasn't just a healer; she was a witch with mystical healing powers. The only one who could help me."

Elspeth felt the air whoosh out of her lungs. "Ye knew this the entire time, and ye dinna say anythin'?"

"What was there to say, lass? Besides I didn't know until I realized you were Rosewyth's daughter that you'd inherited her abilities."

She frowned at him. How could he possibly have deduced that?

Ben looked away and shrugged. "And… I

might

have overheard Miss Macleod talking about a vision. She's a seer, isn't she?"

Elspeth stumbled back a bit. He knew about

all

of them? "How…?"

One corner of his mouth lifted. "I have excellent hearing. It's another Lycan trait. Though…" His smile faded as if he'd just sorted something out.

"Though what?"

He shook his head and began to pace in circles. Elspeth thought he would never answer her. So she asked again, "What are ye no' tellin' me, Ben?"

"You first," he hedged. "The others… What sort of powers do they have? Miss Ferguson, I gather, is in touch with botanical arts of some sort."

Elspeth had never discussed what powers the others had with outsiders. But Sorcha

had

revealed herself. "She does have a bit of a green thumb," she admitted. "Sometimes she talks ta the plants. They do her biddin'. It's always come in handy durin' the harvest season."

"And the others?" he prompted.

Rhiannon and Blaire hadn't done anything that warranted her revealing information about them. She shrugged.

"It's no secret that your friends, the members of your coven, don't care for me, Elspeth. I'd just like to know what I'm up against."

She rushed forward. "Ben, they would never hurt ye. Please believe me."

He offered his arms as evidence otherwise, revealing where Sorcha's vines had cut into his skin. "Normally my body would heal itself. But I seem to have lost that talent when I lost the ability to change."

Elspeth's breath caught in her throat. She tore off her second glove and placed one hand on each of his wrists. She closed her eyes and visualized him whole and hale until she felt the power leave her fingertips and fuse with him.

When she opened her eyes, she found his hazel ones boring into her.

"You have the mark, Elspeth." His voice sounded strangled.

She glanced down where her hands still grasped his wrists. Her moon-shaped mark seemed to glow red in the light. She dropped her hold on him, as though she'd been burned.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Why didn't she tell him? Speaking about her sire wasn't something she ever did. Neither had her mother. "I dinna think it mattered."

"Ah," he said with a frown, "but you were terribly interested in mine. What else are you keeping from me, Elspeth?"

She shook her head. "I dinna realize I owed ye an explanation about anythin' else, Ben. Ye're the one who sought