He sat there patiently holding out the food, waiting for me to decide.

My mouth watered as a hint of bacony goodness drifted my way.  He quirked a slight smile at me as I reached for it, but he willingly handed it over.  A stacked breakfast sandwich lay inside.  My stomach rumbled as I looked at it.  I sat next to him and devoured the offering.  He smiled as he watched me.  I ignored him.

When I threw the carton in the garbage, he stood, picked up my bag, reached inside his jacket, and pulled out my shoes.

“Gee, thanks,” I drawled, reclaiming my missing shoes.

Luke grinned in response and handed me the jacket as well before he shouldered my bag and walked out the door to check us out of the room.  I set my almost empty coffee to the side, sat and peeled off the extra socks.

He’d done it again, helped me without demanding anything in return.  Was he just waiting for a moment of weakness before he pounded, or had my dream about Baen pointed me toward help?  I wanted to believe Luke was the help I was meant to find.  Yet he also did things to make sure I didn’t run from him.  I mean, come on!  He stole my shoes.  And did he think I didn’t notice him leaving with my bag?  I wondered why he did any of it.  Was it because he thought I wouldn’t be safe if I struck out on my own again or something else?  I really wanted the answer to be because he was worried about me.  Yet, at the same time, I knew I was being irrational.  How many lifetimes had the werewolves shown me that they couldn’t be trusted.  It far outnumbered the two lifetimes—so far, anyway—that they had tried to keep me safe.  Still...I wanted to believe.  The thought that he was keeping me captive...well, I needed to believe my life wasn’t hopeless.

I beat him to the motorcycle and waited, watching him cross the parking lot.  My heart gave a quick stutter as he got closer.  He moved with purpose, and his eyes swept over me.  I tried to squash any signs of my physical attraction, but I couldn’t help watching his long legs clear the seat with ease.  To distract myself, I wondered what he’d look like as a dog.  Would he have those same menacingly eerie eyes?  Would he threaten me with his teeth?

After settling behind him, he motioned to the strap on his shoulder.  I grudgingly lifted the bag around my torso.  Falling from the back of the bike didn’t sound fun.

We pulled away in a hurry.  Even with all of the sleep, I felt the tug of the next dream.  I tried everything from sticking my face in the wind—versus staying crouched behind Luke—to biting my lip as hard as I could.  Eventually, the dream won.

Chapter Six

A hand tapping my face pulled me out.

“We need help.  A car.  This isn’t working,” he said gently.

“No, this is fine,” I mumbled peeling my eyes open.  It really wasn’t fine.  We were pulled over again.  Trees lined the sides of the road in both directions.  For a second time, I sat in his lap with the bag and strap twisted around us.  The bike still idled.

“Can you make it twenty minutes without sleeping?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.  “It seems worse with you.”

He looked at me in surprise.  “When I’m near you, you don’t cry out.  I thought your dreams calmed when I...”  He didn’t finish his sentence, but I filled in the missing parts.

He was right.  My dreams did calm when I was near him.  I dreamed of helpful things like glimpses of explanations from the Taupe Lady, instead of my constant pointless death.  In fact, I’d learned so much more after Luke found me than in the prior months.

My eyes widened as I considered the implications.  Was Luke really the key?  In my past lives, after claiming a werewolf, the dreams had come less frequently.  And when they did appear, their purpose was more focused.  So, if I Claimed Luke...

“I changed my mind,” I said quickly.  “I will Claim you.”

“No!”  He flinched as if I slapped him, but his gaze drifted to my mouth.

He remained motionless, studying me, his eyes filled with barely checked wanting.  It wasn’t desire as much as it was the ability to call me his own.  I’d seen that look before in other lives.  They’d coveted me for the power of my knowledge.  Why did he want me?  I decided it didn’t really matter and held myself still, hoping he was reconsidering his answer.  So far, he had kept me safe and treated me well.  If claiming him would end my dreams—or at least slow them—did I need any more proof from him that he would take care of me?  He had already shown he was infinitely better than the werewolves I’d claimed in past live—except maybe Baen.  And it didn’t hurt that my heart was beating out yes like an SOS.

The look in his eyes grew tender as he brushed a stand of hair from my face.  His fingers left a trail of warmth where they brushed my skin.  I wanted him to do it again.  Touch me.  His breath hitched when I tilted my head slightly.  His fingers trembled as he touched my hair.  Encouraged, my hand drifted to his bicep.

The contact broke the spell, and he hastily set me on my feet next to the bike.  Like cold water splashed in my face, it brought me back to reality.  I needed to claim him for the right reasons—to get rid of the dreams where I died, and not the wrong reason—because he made my insides quiver.

Being connected by the strap didn’t give us much room. It pinned us together and brought my face close to his neck.  I blinked at the opportunity, and I didn’t wait for permission.  I darted in with the intent to end the bad dreams, but my teeth didn’t reach my intended target.

Luke had shoved his hand between my face and his neck at the first sign of my move.  I should have anticipated his speed, I thought.  With my face humiliatingly mashed into the palm of his hand, I grew angry.

“What’s your problem?  I know you feel the pull.  This is what’s supposed to happen.”  I resisted stomping my foot as he slipped out of the strap.  Standing tall and out of his personal space, I glared at him.  He looked angry, too.

“No, it is not. Why did you change your mind?”

“I’m tired of dying!” I cried.  “It hurts!  What don’t you understand?  Every time I close my damn eyes, I feel every anguished moment of one of our past lives.  Claiming you will make the dreams better.”  I tried to keep the begging tone from my voice, but by the end, that’s what I did.  Beg.  “Please, Luke.”

Some of the tension eased out of him, and he looked at the trees, taking a moment before answering.

“I promised I only wanted to help you.  And I will.  The dreams are better when I sleep near you.  We will keep doing that,” he said without meeting my eyes.  “Climb on.”

I felt like throwing a fit, but then I realized the position I would be in if I climbed back on—right by his neck.  Keeping the triumphant grin from my face, I slipped behind him.

For the next twenty minutes, he face-palmed me at least fifty times.  When I gave up in frustration and leaned my forehead against his back, his heat started lulling me.

“I’m going under,” I managed to mumble before my eyes closed.

“Try to hold on.  I called for help.  There should be a car ahead,” he called over his shoulder.  He sped up instead of slowing down.

A fear-induced adrenaline spike pushed the dream back, and my eyes popped open.  “What do you mean you called for help?”

I barely got the words out when an object flew from the woods beside us.  Big, black, and furry, it just missed our back tire.  In stunned disbelief, I clung to him as we raced on.  He’d really done it.  He’d called for the rest of his pack.

Luke twitched before me, and I peeked over his shoulder.  In one of the mirrors, I saw the reason.  My heart leapt into my throat as I twisted to look behind us.