Sedona Serenity

CHAPTER 1

Serenity

Morning. Did you miss me? The tall, dark-haired man paused like I might actually answer before shaking his head. I’m going to keep coming back here until you open your eyes.

He was built like a walking, talking brick wall, filling the doorway of the guest room of his Alpha’s house. He came by every day, patiently waiting and watching over the body in the bed.

My body.

Me.

It was so hard to remember that pale, emaciated woman was ever part of me. Time lost its meaning when I no longer ate or drank or slept. Usually I was miles away from this physical form. Astral projection was a myth in many scientific circles, and although I was living proof it was real, my scientist mother attempted to cure me instead, even if that meant keeping me unconscious in a sensory deprivation pod.

But her prison led me to true freedom, my consciousness astral-projecting through time and space, far from that comatose body.

Me.

What did that even mean anymore?

He came closer and sat beside the bed. I watched him from the other corner of the room as his gaze wandered over the sleeping face—my face. Whenever the doctor came for a house call, my sentinel allowed himself to blend into the background, but when we were alone, he would talk about the world outside. There was something about his voice that called to me like a siren’s song. It wasn’t rich or smooth, but it was deep, with a timbre of refreshing honesty the rest of my world had always lacked. And no matter how far my consciousness had wandered, the sound of that soulful voice lured me back to the room.

It wasn’t that he had anything important to share, not really. It was the way he included me—as if I mattered. There were times he made me wish I could find a way back into that beaten body. But that body was a prison. Now I was free.

Still, when he spoke, I wished I could open my eyes and see him through that physical lens. Sometimes I caught myself yearning to reach out and touch him. I imagined his hands would be warm, strong, and never soul-crushing like my mother’s had been.

I’ve got my Harley right out there in the driveway if you’d like to get out of this room and ride sometime. He sighed, stared up at the ceiling for a moment, and then looked around the room. Cole told me you moved one of the books when you first got here, but nothing’s been out of place since then. It’s been almost a month.

He turned to the body again. Was that shrunken form really me?

I focused on the bookshelf for a moment. The night the werewolf pack rescued me from my mother’s lab, I moved the books, using my telekinesis to show them I wasn’t brain dead, and to warn them about my mother’s plot to take me back with her.

I didn’t realize a month had already passed me by.

My spirit floated between us, hovering between worlds. My soul walked free among the living while my body wasted away, edging closer to the land of the dead. What would happen to me when that tether was gone? Would I evaporate into the ether as if I never existed?

His voice lured me closer to him. Since you moved that book, I was thinking that maybe you like to read, so I brought a few books with me. He opened a plastic shopping bag and laid three books on the bed beside the body. Me. "I’m not sure what you like so I brought some options. Fahrenheit 451 in case you like futuristic books—plus, you can’t go wrong with Ray Bradbury, right? He pointed to the one in the center. And if you’re more into love stories, I’ve got a copy of Dark-Hunter. He peeked over at the door and back again. It’s a little steamy in parts so I’ll have to make sure the little ones aren’t around."

His gaze wandered up to my sleeping face again, and I wondered why he never touched me, not even to hold my hand or brush the hair back from my forehead. "And then I’ve got The Stand. He lowered his voice as if he was sharing a secret just between us. I’m hoping you’ll like that one because…well, it’s the longest. So I’d have an excuse to…extend our visits."

I stared at the three books, studying the covers. He didn’t say it out loud, but everyone who had come in the room recently—from the doctor to my half siblings Madison and Chandler—was worried. I hadn’t given them any signs of life since the first couple of days after they’d freed me from the sensory deprivation pod in my mother’s laboratory.

I didn’t have to tune into their thoughts to know they were beginning to think I’d never wake up. Maybe I wouldn’t…

My younger half sister, Madison, was just starting to unlock her telepathic abilities, but I hadn’t reached out to communicate with her, either. I wasn’t sure if I even cared about living anymore. Since they’d rescued my body from the lab, I’d been content to embrace this new reality. If I returned to the weakened body in the bed, I’d be back in that prison of flesh. And then what if I died?

Maybe I already had. Was this weightless perception any different from a ghost?

He sighed, and the sadness in his eyes tugged at me. If choosing a book might make him smile, it suddenly seemed worth the effort. I focused my energy on the thick volume and flipped open the cover of The Stand. His eyes widened, and the flash of his white teeth and the sparkle in his eyes sent a jolt of excitement through my ethereal consciousness.

A Stephen King fan. He chuckled. Good choice.

He turned a few pages to get to the beginning, but this rare connection with another person had triggered something in me. I waited for him to read the first line and then popped open the cover of the Bradbury book.

He raised a brow, glancing over at the sleeping face. At me. Toying with me? He leaned a little closer. "So you are still with us."

And just like that, I wished I could speak. While I couldn’t make that body utter words, I had no trouble speaking telepathically, and unlike Madison, I understood the power at my disposal.

I focused on his soulful dark-brown eyes, envisioned reaching out to his consciousness, then whispered into his mind, Tell me your name.

He shot out of the chair, his gaze locked on the body in the bed as he stumbled backward. What?

If I could have laughed, I would have. The spectacle of this strong mountain of a man, this werewolf, bolting away from an unconscious waif as if she could attack him at any second tickled me.

Of course, I could hurt him, but I wouldn’t.

I tried to reach him again. I’m Serenity.

A crease formed between his eyebrows, but the tension in his shoulders seemed to release. He cleared his throat. I’m Ryker.

He settled back into the chair, glancing around the room as he reached for the book again. Sorry about that. I didn’t know I’d be able to hear you.

And again, I caught myself wishing I could open those eyes or reach out that pale hand to touch him. I couldn’t remember the last time I wanted to physically move. The detachment between my consciousness and my flesh and bones had seemed permanent for so long.

Until Ryker.

He picked up The Stand again and opened the pages. As he read to the sleeping body, I couldn’t help but wonder why he was giving me so much of his time. What did he get out of it?

After my mother had drugged me and detained me in the sensory deprivation chamber, I had stopped fighting. I hadn’t seen the point. But it had all changed the day I’d discovered my half sister was in Arizona again. Something akin to hope had sparked. When I’d realized she could hear my mental calls that spark had ignited into a flame.

Years ago, my mother had used me and my abilities to help cure my sister of her mental telepathy during the Ridgemont experiment. I had only been ten years old at the time. I didn’t think I’d ever see Madison again. With my help, we repressed Madison’s memories of her time in Arizona, hiding them behind a wall of deadened brain tissue. My mother thought it would be too risky if Madison ever told anyone about our work in the lab. I did as my mother asked with no concept of what we were really doing.

As an adult, I would have railed against such an intrusion into another person’s mind, let alone my own sister’s. We had been just children, though, and I had trusted my mother and her intentions. I’d believed we were helping Madison.

That trust had eroded as I got older, as her therapies became more intrusive, more damaging, and eventually were aimed in my direction. After a while, my defiance had led to electroshock treatments and imprisonment in the sensory deprivation chamber.

Maybe if my mother hadn’t pushed so hard to control me, I never would have known my sister was within reach in Arizona. I’d been astral projecting at Serenity Farms, my mother’s ranch, when I’d heard the ranch hand introducing the veterinarian to a new employee, Madison. I recognized her face, and when she finally heard my telepathic call, she became my beacon of hope. My chance for escape.

Madison found me with the help of her mate, Cole, and they’d brought my body back here, to his Alpha’s ranch. My mother and her enhanced Timberwolf soldiers had arrived the next night during the full moon, expecting the wolf pack to be gone.

Instead, the Sedona Pack had stopped her, protecting me even though my body remained comatose. The pack had accepted my sister and put themselves at risk trying to save me. This was a loyalty I’d never known, not even from my own mother. It puzzled me almost as much as Ryker’s kindness in visiting me.

Since the night they’d brought me here, I’d been an invisible observer. My interest in being an active participant was still waning. If I found a way back inside that pale body in the bed, I would be making a conscious choice to fight again. But I had nothing left to fight for.

I’d seen too much pain and death and torture, and the more I learned, the more I discovered about how I’d been used. Hell, in an indirect way, I’d been responsible.

The horror of that realization still drove a dagger into my heart every time I thought about it.

I had been naive, trusting that my mother was helping me, helping others. I hadn’t known until very recently that she’d always feared me, and that all her research had stemmed from her desire to take away my powers, to make me normal—like her.

Ryker sat next to the body, reading about a plague that had wiped out most of the world, leaving behind a select few people to pick up the pieces. I wondered again why he cared if I ever woke up.

I assumed he was a werewolf like the others in the house, a member of this wolf pack. I’d learned enough about shifters over the years to understand he’d have heightened senses, physical strength that would overpower any human’s, and an unbreakable, instinctual devotion to his Alpha.

I was motionless in a bed.

Yet here he was, visiting me every day.

Curiosity about another person seemed foreign. I’d been locked in my own mind for so long. I reached out to stroke his hand as he turned a page.

He looked over at the body in the bed, at me. Did you…touch me?

He could feel that? He went back to the book, his deep voice embracing me. I could vaguely remember the feeling of being in a man’s arms, and the yearning to feel it again surprised me. I wanted to touch him.

I didn’t know if that was possible anymore. Maybe it was too late. I settled closer to the body, my body, contemplating reconnecting. I wasn’t sure I even remembered how. My spirit spread thin over the length of my body. I waited for my lungs to inhale again and welcomed the union.

The physical mass of flesh immediately pulled me down, drowning me. I struggled to move, but my limbs remained motionless. My muscles had atrophied from lack of movement, and coupled with the pang of hunger and thirst, I instantly regretted my decision. Panic swelled within me until Ryker moved beside me.

The weight of his hands lifted from the mattress. Serenity? Are you all right?

Hearing his voice through my ears soothed some of my growing distress. I struggled to respond, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Maybe I didn’t remember how.

His voice remained tender and slow, but a thread of worry was present. Are you having a bad dream? Your eyes are moving…

I was lost in the darkness, struggling to find any light. My eyelids were too heavy. I couldn’t see him, couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. I was a prisoner.

He must’ve leaned in closer because his scent filled my lungs. Smell. I’d forgotten what a visceral sense it could be. It gave me something to focus on instead of the panic of being trapped in a useless body. He smelled earthy, like the Red Rocks after a winter dusting of snow. Was it wintertime yet? I’d forgotten about so many things.

I’m trying, I whispered to him. I’m here.

And then his large hand covered mine. The sudden warmth sent a shiver through my exhausted body. He squeezed my hand a little tighter. Take all the time you need.

I wanted to open my eyes. I wanted to see his face, but my body wouldn’t respond to my commands. Using every ounce of effort I had, I managed to twitch my fingers.

I feel you, he said softly. You’re moving.

Exhaustion weighed me down as I exhaled and relaxed into the bed.

So tired.

Rest, he said. We have plenty of time.

I didn’t respond. It would expend too much energy. But he was wrong. Time wasn’t on our side. I knew my mom’s plans for the future of Evolution Defense. Her company had won a few top-secret defense contracts to develop serums to create human super soldiers with the heightened senses and strength of shifters. She worked with powerful people, and if they got their way, my sister and I would be studied and cured of everything that made us who we were. This whole pack was at risk.

Not long ago I had been at peace with that, but seeing Ryker tend to a motionless, broken-down body that everyone else had given up on, including me, had awakened something in me and reignited the spark of rebellion that had landed me in this mess in the first place.

This man, this werewolf, wasn’t an aberration or a threat to humanity. He was a kind soul.

If I could heal this body and control it again, maybe I could stand beside him. Maybe I could protect my family, my sister and brother, and the others in this pack who had risked everything to save me.

A war was coming.

Now I had a reason to fight.

CHAPTER 2

Ryker

I couldn’t pull my attention away from her face, holding my breath in hopes that she might open her eyes. It didn’t happen. But she had moved her hand. She was still in there someplace. I settled back into the chair and started reading aloud again.

After I finished the first chapter of The Stand, I closed the book and laid it on the side table. The hope growing in my heart terrified me.

The night I’d helped Cole and Asher move her into this room, my hand had brushed her ankle, skin to skin, and the wolf in my soul had come unglued. My vision had blurred, his howling deafening my ears, and my balance had faltered. I’d heard enough of my pack brothers’ stories about finding their mates that I knew damned well what had just happened.

My wolf had recognized her the moment my skin touched hers.

Part of me had been pissed. My string of bad luck had been so monumental the last few years that it bordered on being comical. And now I’d found the other half of my soul, my mate, the only woman I would ever love. And she was comatose, her body so battered and neglected she seemed to be dying in slow motion.

I’d been so stunned by the revelation I had backed away, trying to stay out of Cole’s way while he got her settled and finished checking her vital signs. My mate.

I’d kept the discovery to myself, but the secret was eating me up inside, festering like a wound I couldn’t heal. What would have been the point of telling anyone? If she died, I’d just be drowning in their pity, and if she