Shy (Once Bitten, Twice Shy, #2) Read online

  SHY

  BY NOELLE MARIE

  Copyright © 2015 by Noelle Marie

  All rights reserved.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  BOOK RECOMMENDATIONS

  CHAPTER ON

  E

  As the icy winter gave way to spring and the mountains of snow began to melt, so did any lingering feelings of wariness Katherine felt towards Bastian begin to fade. Like the violet wildflowers speckled across the newly green forest floor, something stronger than affection began to bloom in Katherine's chest whenever she thought of the impossibly handsome man.

  He'd told her he loved her.

  It had taken Katherine being mauled by the corrupt Cain and falling seriously ill for the words to spill forth from Bastian’s mouth, but he'd said them all the same. And to Katherine's surprise, he had continued to say them to her even after the fierce emotional storm that her near death had brought upon the pack – and especially its alpha – had dissipated.

  In fact, the small brunette was fairly certain that the man hadn't let a day since the incident pass without uttering the words to her at least once.

  This, of course, only served to put Katherine in an incredibly uncomfortable position. Because except for stuttering a shaky response the first time Bastian had declared his love – "I think I love you too." – she had been incredibly tight-lipped about her own feelings. It'd been five whole months since Cain had attacked her, and Katherine had yet to let the "l-word" escape her lips again.

  She didn't know what caused the word to stick to the roof of her mouth. Maybe it was her naturally reserved nature. Or perhaps more likely, it was the insecurity that enveloped her at the thought of being emotionally vulnerable to another person. But whatever the reason, the few times she'd attempted to return Bastian's sentiments, she'd only served to embarrass herself.

  "I love you Katherine."

  "I...you...I care about you too."

  "I love you Katherine."

  "That makes me so happy."

  "I love you Katherine."

  "I...yes...that is, my feelings for you are strong as well."

  She'd taken to merely staying silent in response to such utterances, hoping that despite the right words getting trapped somewhere between the back of her throat and her rose colored lips, Bastian knew. He had to know. She loved him too.

  Which only made it all the more upsetting that in exception to pressing chaste lips to her mouth or peppering innocent kisses across her brow, cheeks, and occasionally her nose, he steadfastly refused to touch her.

  It was quite the feat considering the fact they'd been sharing a bed since Katherine had recovered from her bout of pneumonia. She didn't quite know what to think, and the one time she'd attempted to rectify the situation – to be physically close to Bastian – she’d been soundly rejected.

  Katherine lay in bed, idly counting the broad brushstrokes that covered the ceiling of what she had come to think of as her room. The satiny sheets sat pooled at the foot of the massive mattress, having been kicked their by the restless feet of the overwhelmingly bored girl.

  It'd been nearly two weeks since she'd woken from her trauma induced slumber, and she was completely healed, having kicked the pneumonia that'd orchestrated a sneak attack on her lungs days ago. Her breathing was no longer labored or accompanied by a high-pitched, whistle-like noise. She'd finally coughed out the last of the thick, disgusting phlegm that’d been stuck to the inner walls of her throat.

  Her health was no longer a problem. Convincing Bastian of that, however... well, that was a problem.

  The man had spent the past fortnight alternately hovering over her like an overprotective mother hen and managing the alpha council. They'd taken the news of Cain's betrayal and subsequent death better than either of them could have hoped. Most members were appropriately outraged by the man’s actions and supportive of Bastian's decision to take up the role of head alpha. Some, however, were skeptical of his ability to lead. Thankfully, only one dared to make his lack of faith so obviously known.

  Rogue.

  According to Markus, who Bastian had taken to dragging to most meetings, the man enjoyed challenging Bastian's authority at every turn. Apparently, he’d even used Katherine and her unfortunate habit of attracting trouble against Bastian, arguing that surely his attention-seeking mate needed the majority of his focus. He couldn't possibly have enough energy to run the council, and by proxy, the entirety of Haven Falls, if he was constantly worrying over her and the shenanigans she somehow always managed to get herself entangled in.

  Markus took great glee in informing Katherine that Bastian had decked the man. "Knocked his dumb ass straight to the floor," he'd relayed to her with a grin.

  Bastian, of course, hadn't mentioned the incident at all.

  Probably because he seemed to spend every waking minute he wasn't dealing with the council preoccupied with Katherine’s health and general wellbeing. He was terribly bossy and it was as irritating as it was endearing.

  Katherine would yawn. "You sound tired. Why don't you try to sleep? Here, let me get you another pillow."

  Katherine would wince while trying to sit up in bed. "Did you hurt yourself? Lie back down and let me check your back."

  God forbid that her stomach would growl. "You're hungry? Why didn't you say something? Caleb, go make Katherine a sandwich. Ham. No, roast beef. At least four slices."

  As sweet as Katherine suspected his intentions were, she couldn't help but become exasperated with the man. She was perfectly capable of realizing when she was tired or hurt. And she could make herself a sandwich if she wanted one, thank you very much.

  Her relief was palpable when Bastian finally declared her well enough to be up and out of bed the day before.

  Apparently, though, she wasn't well enough to shift into her wolf form and go on a hunt with the rest of the pack – sans Caleb, who'd stayed behind to keep an eye on her, of course. After all, imagine the stress it would cause her if she had to decide between having some of the leftover beef stew and frying herself up a hamburger for supper all on her own?

  Note the sarcasm.

  It really wasn't fair. She was eager to see how much effort she'd have to exert to transform now that she'd accomplished the task without the full moon's help for the first time. Bastian wouldn't hear of it, though, and Katherine had been forced to stay behind.

  And so she ended up in bed again, the place where she'd been stuck the eleven days previous – in exception of the night of the full moon, of course – glaring petulantly up at the ceiling.

  She was trying to stay up until the others returned – attempting to use her simmering anger as an anchor to awareness, but as the sun began to set, sleep tugged at her tired eyelids, and Katherine soon surrendered to sleep.

  She was awakened an undeterminable amount of time later by a slight dipping of the mattress. Only on the edge of consciousness, sleep threatened to pull her under again when she felt strong fingers sweep some wayward bangs from her face before running through the remainder of her long tresses. A chaste kiss was placed on the side of her forehead – the side
where her newly acquired scar lay. "I love you."

  Katherine forced herself to open bleary eyes. The room was dark, but the moonlight shining through the gaps of the window blinds allowed her to see as she turned to face her bedmate – her alpha. Her Bastian.

  Even only half-awake, she managed to glare at the man. But sleep had stolen most of her anger. Plus, it was hard to be angry when Bastian was half-naked. He lay on his side atop the covers, a muscled arm supporting his head as he stared unabashedly back at her. She wondered if it was the bird’s nest atop her head or the pillow creases that undoubtedly graced her cheek that made him look at her with such tender eyes.

  It was hard to stare into Bastian’s eyes for long, though, with the moonlight splayed so attractively across his bare chest. The golden glow highlighted every ripple of muscle, from his impressive pectorals all the way down to the enticing "V" that led to the elastic waist of his sleep pants.

  Katherine profusely hoped that the dark at least hid her nearly painful blush.

  "I'm mad at you," she managed to forced out between suddenly dry lips. But even she knew she didn't sound mad. She sounded breathless.

  The corner of Bastian’s mouth quirked up. "I know," he admitted. "What can I do to make it up to you?" His free hand began to play with the ends of her unruly hair.

  Unconsciously, Katherine leaned into the touch. "There is something," she confessed in a whisper.

  She was close enough to see his Adam’s apple bob when she leaned in closer still.

  "Yeah?" Bastian's rough timbre sent a shiver down her spine.

  When his blue eyes fixated on her lips, she found the courage to answer him. "Yes," she confirmed before closing the remaining gap between them.

  Her lips brushed tentatively against his at first, but she was emboldened when a calloused hand gripped the back of her neck, fingers threading through the little hairs there, and the kiss quickly deepened.

  Nearly consumed by the need to touch Bastian, Katherine pressed her slender frame flush against his body. He groaned into her mouth.

  Encouraged by his response, Katherine managed to wedge a hand between them, ghosting her fingers over one dusky nipple – Bastian inhaled jerkily, his lips freezing over hers – before allowing them to travel further down, exploring defined muscle.

  A feeling – a kind of warmth – that Katherine had never felt before began pooling in her lower belly. She was so lost to the sensation that she failed to realize Bastian had stopped kissing her.

  She was quickly thrust back into reality, however, when her hand brushed over a jutting hipbone. Before she could blink, the fingers that had been wrapped in her hair were suddenly grasping her wrist, non-too-gently shoving her apparently offensive appendage away.

  Katherine gaped, momentarily stunned. But her surprise was quickly followed by an intense, nearly overwhelming sense of humiliation. "What-"

  What had she done wrong?

  "I'm tired," Bastian forced out between gritted teeth. "I'm sorry for waking you. Feel free to go back to sleep." And before Katherine could even begin to formulate a response, the suddenly taciturn man flipped over, turning his back on her.

  For a long minute, the embarrassed brunette could only lie there, staring at Bastian's stupidly attractive back. She was truly flabbergasted. And in a moment of weakness, she allowed insecurity to reign.

  Was her touch really that repulsive? Was her technique that off base? Katherine would be the first to admit that she wasn't exactly experienced when it came to, well... romantic entanglements.

  Maybe Bastian just wasn't attracted to her the same way she was attracted to him?

  Katherine quickly squashed that thought, not willing to let such a hurtful notion take root in her mind. Instead, she allowed a much more useful emotion to swell within her.

  Righteous indignation.

  Who exactly did Bastian Prince think he was? He'd been kissing her back! What right did he have to end their kiss so abruptly – so callously – without even a hint of an explanation?

  He was tired? Ha!

  Suddenly furious, Katherine shot out of bed, stomping to the bathroom, jerking open its door, and slamming it shut behind her. For nearly an hour, she sat on the edge of the closed toilet seat, debating whether or not she wanted to go back out there and demand a better explanation than "I'm tired” from Bastian – insert eye roll here – or simply beat the crap out of the man with the plunger.

  In the end, she decided on neither. Truthfully, Katherine was too – hurt? embarrassed? angry? some combination thereof? – to even go back out to the bedroom and face Bastian at all. So still stinging from his rejection, she fell asleep, curled up on the cold, hard porcelain floor of the bathroom’s tub.

  She’d woke up the next morning buried under the covers of the bed, and neither she nor Bastian dared to bring up the incident afterwards. But due to the confusing rejection, Katherine hadn’t attempted to initiate anything remotely sexual with the man again.

  "What's your pretty little head thinking so hard about?"

  Katherine was startled out of her morose thoughts by Zane’s amused tenor. She glared at the man as he swiped the chocolate chip muffin she was absentmindedly holding straight out of her hands. Caleb had made a couple dozen of the delicious morsels earlier that morning. Gooey chocolate smeared Zane’s lips as he took a large bite of the still warm confection.

  "Well?" he asked again around a mouthful of muffin. "What are you thinking about that caused that particular expression to cross your face?"

  Katherine wasn't sure what expression Zane was referring to, but she couldn't control the hot flush from creeping up her neck when she realized she'd managed to spend the past half an hour silently pouting over the fact that Bastian was refusing to touch her.

  Catching sight of her quickly reddening cheeks, Zane offered her a playful smirk. "Maybe I don't want to know."

  Before she could dispute his undoubtedly perverse thoughts – even if there was a smidgeon of truth to them – the front double doors were thrown open, matching slabs of heavy wood crashing against adjacent walls with two resounding, nearly simultaneous bangs.

  Katherine jumped at the sudden noise, ignoring Zane as he choked on her stolen muffin in favor of watching Bastian storm into the house. She frowned when the man ignored her – not even sparing her a glance – as he made a beeline for the bedroom they shared, opening and slamming shut that door with the same amount of force as he had the front ones.

  Markus followed him inside at a much more sedate pace.

  "I take it the council meeting didn't go well?" Zane asked the question they were both wondering.

  "I suppose you could say that," Markus deadpanned as he strolled into the kitchen and grabbed two muffins for himself.

  When the beta didn't elaborate, Katherine huffed and pushed herself up out of her chair to go confront Bastian herself.

  "I wouldn't go in there if I were you, princess," Markus warned when she took a step in the direction of the bedroom he'd disappeared into.

  "Good thing you're not me then," she called over her shoulder before doing exactly that.

  In the room, Bastian was sitting on the edge of the mattress. His tense body was hunched over on itself as he dug the palms of his hands deep into the sockets of his eyes.

  "Are you okay?" Katherine inquired, quietly closing the door behind her and warily approaching the man. She placed a hesitant hand on his shoulder. The muscles she could feel under his shirt were coiled so tightly he was trembling.

  "Fine," he forced out between clenched teeth.

  "Really?" Katherine demanded, folding her arms across her chest and letting a bit of the frustration she was feeling leak out into her voice. "You flew in here like a bat out of hell and are wound tighter than a spring, but you're fine?"

  "What do you want me to say?" He still wouldn’t look at her.

  "I want you to tell me what's wrong!" Katherine exclaimed. "What happened at the meeting to make you like this?" She gestur
ed vaguely at his tension-filled form.

  Bastian finally dropped his hands from his eyes and looked up at her, pinning her into place with his intense azure gaze. "You. Don't you realize by now that you are the only person who can affect me so strongly?"

  “Me?" Katherine demanded derisively. "What did I do? I wasn't even at the meeting!"

  Bastian shot out of bed, towering over her with his much larger frame. "Maybe not in body, but apparently you’re on everyone's goddamn minds! Rogue," he spit out the name like a curse, “is demanding that you participate in the Recruiting Rites next week."

  Katherine frowned.

  The Recruiting Rites was the name of a special ceremony that was due to take place on the next full moon. She and the rest of the graduating class – those who were werewolves anyway – were meant to compete in a tournament-like competition designed to test their abilities and give them the opportunity to flaunt their assets to alphas in hopes of receiving invitations to join their packs. Katherine, of course, already had a pack – a pack she loved – but she had still planned on participating.

  "Why wouldn't I participate?" Everyone did.

  Bastian's eyes narrowed. "Why would you?"

  "Everyone does!" Katherine replied, giving voice to her earlier thoughts.

  "You already have a pack."

  "So does most everyone else," Katherine pointed out. Only turned wolves – she was the exception – didn't have one. "It's a chance to showcase my skills, however unpolished they may be. I want to compete."

  Didn’t he realize that she needed this opportunity? She had to prove to the community, to those who doubted Bastian's ability to lead because of his relations with her, that she was a worthy mate to such a powerful man – to such a fierce werewolf.

  She needed to prove it to herself.

  Bastian, of course, didn't see it that way. "No," he practically growled. "You're mine."

  Katherine glared, choosing to ignore the rush of something that washed over her at Bastian's declaration, and focused instead on the irritation that it also caused. "I didn't ask you."