Wanted.

Chapter Eleven.

I awoke to a hard, angry rain pounding the tin roof of the house. I stretched and managed to whack Rye right in the side of the head; my hand flew to my mouth, but mostly to hide the smile that slide across my face.

"What the-?" Rye moaned, his voice still heavy with sleep. Gentle blue and purple waves of drowsiness colored my mind and I had to fight the urge to close my eyes again. I glared at the back of Rye's dirty-blond head.

Last night, we discovered the Rye and I have a mental link, courtesy of the mating thing. However, the mating must have messed with Rye's Hunter abilities and now he is able to feel and sway my emotions.

"I am terribly sorry," I said, trying to hide the smile from my voice. Rye only grunted as he fell back to sleep.

Though it was dark out, I could tell it was well past noon. We hadn't gone to bed until at least five in the morning, and we were both exhausted. Why I was awake, I didn't know. I playfully slapped Rye's head, thinking he was more asleep than I thought.

In a split second, I was pinned to the bed, with Rye smiling slyly above me.

Really? I rolled my eyes.

A chuckle rose out of Rye's rock hard chest as he playfully pecked me on the nose. Really.

I flicked Rye right between the eyes, obviously catching him off guard. I laughed loudly at his expression.

Oh, two can play at that game, Missy.

I stared at Rye, desperately trying to figure out what he was going to do. Being pinned to the bed, I had no means of escape.

Suddenly, Rye released one of my wrists, claiming both of them in his left hand and keeping them above my head. And then he was tickling me. I laughed and thrashed hysterically under him, but he gave no mercy. Luckily, he avoided my left ribs, and I was glad, I was still a little sore.

No matter how violently I kicked, or how loudly I screamed and laughed, he still tickled me. He too was laughing, and I couldn't help but melt at the sight of his nose and eyebrows scrunched up in laughter.

"RYE!" I gasped through my laughter. "R-R-RYE!" He tickled me mercilessly until I managed to free an arm and whack him playfully in the face. His blue eyes widened in a stunned expression; I giggled.

We went silent; listening intently at the ragged breathing that heaved our chests up and down. He flopped lazily onto the bed.

"I need to go home," he began, but I cut him off.

"H-home?" I sniffled back an unexpected sob. "You're leaving?"

"Shh," he calmed me. "Only to get some clothes. You are welcome to come along." He caressed my tangled hair.

I released a shaky breath. I was terrified of being alone. As a wolf, I was expected to be tougher, but with the recent events, I was rather afraid, and Rye was my only real means of comfort. I wriggled around in the sheets that had wrapped themselves tightly around my legs. I soon gave up my useless struggles, looking to Rye for help. He laughed heartily at my prediciment.

In a few seconds I was free of the blankets, and on my feet in front of my huge mirror with a brush in my hand. "Well then," I glare at him.

"What?" He shrugged. I rolled my eyes at him, flashing a winning smile.

I attempted to brush through my insane mane of hair for a few minutes, but I groaned in defeat and stared at Rye in the mirror. He held out his long-fingered hand, waiting for the brush; I handed it to him without question. Rye ran the brush through my knotted mess of red hair easily, warning me before he yanked through a rats nest.