Immortal Hope by Claire Ashgrove

Author:Claire Ashgrove [Ashgrove, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Literary, Romance, Fantasy, Paranormal
Amazon: B00J48CANO
Publisher: Audible Studios
Published: 2012-01-03T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 17

Anne drew back from the window, her heart in her throat. When the headlights had flashed against her wall, she’d rushed to catch a glimpse of Merrick, but the SUV’s bright light blinded her to who had returned. So fierce was the glare, she couldn’t even decipher whether one or two men climbed out of the silver vehicle.

Fingers fisted in the lightweight sheers, she pressed her forehead to the cool windowpane. God, she’d go insane if she had to wait until morning to know if Merrick survived the night.

Closing her eyes, she pushed her energy outward, searching for some fragment of the vision. A fixture, a sliver of his clothing—anything that might tell her of its coming. But as it had done all night, her second sight eluded her. She could feel the power on the fringes of her thoughts, and yet she couldn’t gather it in, couldn’t open her mind enough to bring the scene to life.

“Merrick,” she whispered.

Lifting her shoulders, she turned from the window and stalked to her bedroom. She wouldn’t wait. Before she slept, before she could sleep, she’d find out if he’d returned.

She tugged her dresser drawer open and fished out a heavier shirt. After unpacking all the things Merrick brought, she’d donned a pair of lightweight pajama pants and a simple T-shirt. But if she intended to walk through the lower halls, she wanted the biggest, bulkiest object she could find. In case she ran into Tane. Or Ranulf.

As she lifted the sweatshirt to tug it over her head, a fumbling at her door made her pause. Elbows bent, she peeked through the neck as her heart drummed to a stop.

On an uneasy exhale, she watched as the brass doorknob turned, and the door slowly opened.

Merrick stepped inside, his features as hard as they’d ever been. His gaze swept the room, his eyes widening when they came to rest on her.

She dropped the sweatshirt and rushed to him. Unable to stop the tide of emotion that swelled and burst, she threw her arms around his neck. “Oh God, you’re okay.” He was okay. Alive.

Here.

She clung tighter, nuzzling her face into his shoulder. “You’re okay,” she repeated on a whisper of disbelief.

“Aye.”

The roughness of his voice, combined with the strange rigidity of his body, filtered through her awareness and quelled her surge of elation. Curious, she leaned back and lifted her gaze to his face.

What she saw across his cheek lanced pain through her heart.

Four long claw marks raked their way from Merrick’s temple to his chin. Another creased across the bridge of his nose to mar his other cheek. She let out a soft gasp.

As Merrick’s arms slowly wound around her waist, Anne let go of his neck to brush her fingertips across his face. “You’re hurt,” she murmured.

* * *

The concern that filled Anne’s blue eyes shredded Merrick’s heart far deeper than the shade’s claws had torn his face. Her delicate eyebrows dipped together, but the rest of her features softened as she gently touched his cheek.

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