by J. K Harper
Pushing herself to be as competent and mature as she could, Sara threw herself one hundred and ten percent into their specified Guardian time together. She had his back, he had hers, they did their job. They did not, however, do any more play stalking or sharing of easy conversation. And frankly, that sucked.
True to his word, he was waiting for her to make up her own damn mind. Well, she'd made up her mind to focus on being the best pack member she possibly could. She was the one sticking to her guns. Rafe, however, hadn't again said another word about being her mate. Nor had he set her on fire again with his touch. He was very careful not to touch her, except with his completely leg-quiver-inducing glances. She'd gotten what she asked for.
Then why the hell did that bother her so much?
Sara shook her head and kept walking, shifting her laptop bag to the other shoulder. Her favorite little coffee shop, the Steaming Bean, awaited with a hot cuppa, a good online connection, and no distractions in the form of a sexy but strictly off-limits wolf. She had a research project. Something to focus on. Work. No play. Drive and focus.
Rafe was like a research project. Now he is not. Silly, her wolf whispered.
Sara felt the memory of him licking her skin, nibbling her lip. Three weeks ago, and she was still replaying every move. The broad reach of his hands as they'd skimmed their way down her flesh, feeling every bit of her and appreciating all of it in wordless worship. His lips on hers, his fingers inside her slickness....
Focus. Work. Dammit.
She pushed open the inner screen door to the coffee shop and stepped in. The soothing smell of coffee, coffee, and more coffee blitzed her nose. As did the less appetizing smells of people, some washed, some not, and all sorts of other intriguing scents. The life of shifters in the human world meant filtering out the multitude of things that could overwhelm their senses. Sara zeroed in on the intoxicating caffeine scent. Only from a lifetime of training did she manage to ignore the bombardment of other smells.
Putting in her order, she made her way to a little table in the back. Mid-morning on a weekday, the place was lightly occupied. She set down her soft gray leather bag, a gift to herself after she'd decided she needed to start looking a little more grown up and serious. As she started to pull back the chair, she jostled the small, dark-haired woman seated at the table behind her.
“I'm so sorry!” she said quickly.
The woman turned around at her voice and smiled. “Sara! What are you doing downtown?”
“Rielle! Hi.” Sara felt oddly relieved to find another shifter in here, and also somewhat annoyed at herself for not having scented her packmate as she entered the coffeeshop. She needed to focus better. With a tail lash, her wolf agreed.
Rielle Amoux lived in town despite being a pack member. A dedicated clotheshorse, she managed one of the upscale retail stores on the main drag and mingled with humans more than most shifters. It was common knowledge her parents, overprotective ever since realizing Rielle would be the only child they'd ever have, had fussed over and monitored her every move until she'd finally declared herself fed up and moved as far from the pack as she dared without incurring disciplinary action. No one faulted her; tremendous loyalty ensured she'd always be a Pack member. Besides, her official job as the Pack's historian, a records keeper and researcher, meant she could do a lot of her work online, which also allowed her freedom from the main den.
Smile wide and genuine, Rielle motioned for Sara to join her.
“Looks like you've got work to do,” the smaller woman said.
“You could say that.” Sara sighed and focused. “I'm looking into rogue history. If we're going to have an ancillary pack led by a rogue—a former rogue, I mean—then I just thought it might be a good idea to know more. I'm a Guardian,” she said with a shrug. “Alpha didn't exactly task me to this, but it's my job to keep the Pack safe, and knowledge is power. Right?”
Rielle cocked her head at Sara, curiosity lighting her pretty face.
“I can help you with that, you know. Records and all that.”
A barista set Sara's iced mocha fusion shake, with an extra shot and a drop of vanilla extract that gave it zing, in front of her. Heaven.
“Hmm. Maybe there's a reason I ran into you.” Sara took another sip of the mocha. She sighed with pleasure, which catapulted her into a memory of sighing into Rafe's lips and tongue and hands. Her face flamed just slightly despite her immediate mental tamping down. She hurried on.
“I want to know as much about them as I can. The history of rogue rebellions, the political nuances of beginning a new pack, old blood feuds. Everything.”
Everything. Her thoughts caromed off in a different direction. Had she really messed up the possibility of everything? Rafe's mouth still teased at her thoughts. What a wild, completely wanton woman she'd been that night. Begging him for more. It was the move of woman who just wanted to experience everything he had to give. Nothing more. Of course, since it now had been weeks and she hadn't been to one of the bars or been even remotely interested in a romp with a town guy or one of the local cowboys, her body was forcefully reminding her she had some pretty distinct needs.
Needs that Rafe sure knew how to meet.
“Earth to Sara.”
Sara snapped her eyes to Rielle's, face flushing a bit. The smaller wolf grinned at her and leaned forward.
“That's the look of a woman who's been having some scandalous thoughts, rather than thoughts about our boring old pack history.”
Sara flicked her eyes around the coffee shop as though another wolf was eavesdropping on her mind. “Is it that obvious?”
Rielle nodded, a delighted expression still on her face. A hopeless romantic, she always loved it when pack members got together, although she'd yet to find her mate. Perhaps that would change soon. Rielle was the type of wolf who needed a mate.
Sara very definitely didn't.
She ignored her own wolf's mini-sulk of turning her back.
“Very obvious,” Rielle said, teasing grin still in place. “Not to mention I can smell your reaction to him—and who he is, of course. You're broadcasting it pretty loudly right now.”
Sara slouched in her chair, slightly mortified. That usually never bothered her. Well, it never had in the past. Wolves could always sense one another's arousal, if it was strong enough. Which was why when she and Rafe had had their—fling—before, they'd kept it tightly under wraps. No one had needed to know about it. But she and Rafe were on patrol together every several days. The crazy way he turned her on still happened every single time she was in his presence. It was hard to mask the relentless attraction.
Dammit.
Sara scratched a nervous finger on the small wooden table top. “It's pretty recent. And quiet. I'd like to keep it that way.” She looked up into Rielle's face to impress the firmness of that wish.
Rielle placed a gentle hand over Sara's. “I'd never say anything. So.” She swiftly changed the subject. “Tell me why you're looking into rogue and pack history. That way I can narrow down some specifics for you.”
Keeping her voice steady, Sara continued. “I need to know more about the rogues because Alpha said we need to welcome them. That's my motivation there. As for pack history, I'm interested in the starting of new packs, in particular.”
“Ah. That makes sense,” Rielle said, which didn't at all, but Sara let her talk. “Let's begin with the rogues, then.” The small dark wolf settled back in her chair and took on a look reminiscent of older pack members teaching young wolves about their pack's personal history. Since Rielle was the same age as Sara, it was amusing to see her pontificating expression.
“Rogues have always been a part of shifter history. People get rebellious, chafe against restrictions, don't like the pack Alpha, and so on. So they leave, either quietly on their own, or more dramatically cast out. Historically, rogues were hunted to the death.” Rielle's voice took on the cadences of a practiced storyteller.
Sara raised her eyebrows as she
took another healthy swig of the fast-disappearing mocha. The chocolate was hitting her just right. “Sounds kind of barbaric.”
“Mm-hmm. Then again, we are all beasts inside.”
Rielle's words were straightforward, but she made a funny face to show she was joking. “These days, of course, we don't kill rogues. But packs are closed off to them, unless they can show they're ready to be utterly loyal and work hard again.”
Rielle pushed aside a curly lock of her dark hair and held up one slender finger. “And, of course, if they can find mates who are willing to stay with them and bear young to make sure the pack survives. That's the thing that generally keeps rogues as, well, packless rogues. Most female wolves aren't about to jeopardize their futures. Unless they really fall in love, of course.”
Sara nodded. This she already knew.
“So the new rogue-led pack Alpha talked about is sure to be solid,” Rielle concluded.
“How can that be? They don't have any women yet.”
“Sara.” Rielle's gentle tone was patient. “Our Alpha is probably one of the smartest alphas in the country. He's definitely one of the oldest. He's seen it all before. Trust me, no way would he let this pack get set up without some assurances. There's a woman. Or two. Definitely someone for that rogue alpha.”
“Luke Rawlins.” Sara heard the skeptical note creep into her voice. She'd been raised with such a natural suspicion of rogues, she still wasn't sure how to accept him. Her wolf rumbled a very low growl of agreement.
“Licas Conall Rawlins, actually.” Of course Rielle would know these details. “He goes by Luke because, really. Licas is a little old-fashioned. Poor guy.”
All wolf shifters bore names that historically tied into their unique lineage. But to hear such an old-style name for a modern wolf was surprising.
“The alpha of his pack is extremely mired in the ancient ways, as our alpha said.” Rielle sounded mildly fascinated yet clearly disapproving of the archaic beliefs followed by the rogue's former pack. Sara shivered a little at the thought. A pack led by that cruel and potentially crazy of an alpha was destined to create nothing but chaos. She just hoped none of it would touch the Black Mesa Pack. Deep inside, her wolf whined.
“At any rate,” Rielle said, “I'm sure there's a wolf out there who's already chosen Luke for a mate. Whether or not he knows it yet.”
“You think? I don't know. I saw him that night, the first night he was here, when I was with Lily and Kieran.” And Rafe, she added silently. That little tightening in her belly and groin surged up again in reminder that just thinking his name could get her body to react. “He was so arrogant. I can't imagine many pack females here wanting that.”
“It might not be someone from our pack,” Rielle pointed out, pragmatic as ever.
“Hmm. Could be right,” Sara mused. “I suppose we'll find out. As long as Caleb doesn't smash his face in first,” she added with a laugh. Caleb's fighting tendencies were legendary. He'd also made no secret of the fact he strongly disapproved of rogues in general and Luke in particular.
Rielle wrinkled her nose, which looked oddly delicate on her very feminine face. “He's such a barbarian.”
Sara raised her eyebrows a bit at Rielle's criticism. Wolves had to fight. It was simply how they were. She had to admit Caleb did seem to enjoy fighting a little more than anyone else in the pack, though. “He's just got the warrior gene in him. Lily says he's always been that way. A scrapper since birth.”
A tiny curl to Rielle's lip indicated her thoughts on that. “Well, whoever ends up being his mate will have a lot to handle.”
Sara jiggled her feet under the table. All the talk of mates was making her skin itch. She changed the subject. “What about starting new packs? How has that historically worked for us?”
Rielle played with the handle of her coffee cup and appeared deep in thought as she answered. “Well, it's happened before. Many times. A pack gets too big and needs to expand by breaking into offshoot packs, too many alpha males are born and need to make their own way, the pack's alpha sees a political need for another pack that is umbrellaed under the main pack. It generally goes well. As long as the new pack alpha and his mate are a solid, dedicated couple, it will work. In fact, the only times I know of new packs having major problems were when the alpha and his mate were not a good combination.”
“Huh.” Sara let her eyes rove around the coffee shop for a moment. Mostly college-age kids, all hippy-cute, and a few older couples who appeared to be tourists. The cowboys never came in here. They seemed to prefer the bars. She looked at a couple ordering their drinks at the counter. The man kept a hand on the woman's back, her hip, or brushing her fingers with his. From the way she leaned into him, not to mention the obvious pheromones on the air between the two, they were clearly happy together.
For the moment.
Rielle shifted in her seat and leaned a little closer to Sara, as if to share a secret. “I think it will work for you, Sara. The two of you are good together, from what I've seen.”
Sara snapped her eyes back to Rielle. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Rafe. It will work out well. He's going to be a very strong alpha, just like his father, and you're the perfect mate for him. I know you weren't ready for it before now, and I don't blame you. That's a lot of responsibility.” She smiled, not catching Sara's bewilderment. “But if it's obvious to me when I only see you around a few times a month, then that means it's pretty real between you.”
Rielle's voice was slightly dreamy and wistful. Her entire face softened as she looked at Sara, and Sara had a feeling the other wolf was picturing her own happily-ever-after someday. Sara herself felt slightly queasy.
“And that,” Rielle went on, “means the new pack will be very, very strong. With the rogue pack forming as well, Black Mesa will need Rafe's new pack to be exceptional. With him running it, it will be.”
The entire world shrank, expanded, and shrank again with such dizzying force Sara actually clutched the seat of her chair in an effort to not topple sideways. She felt her mouth drop open as she stared at Rielle. Rielle instantly looked apprehensive. Sara's wolf sat at full attention, agitated.
“What?” the smaller wolf asked, her eyes widening at Sara's reaction. “What did I say?”
“I—you—what?” The words would not form correctly. Sara tried again. “What are you talking about? What new pack? Rafe has a new pack?”
Rielle's delicate features became positively stricken. She put her hand over her mouth, soft brown eyes enormous above it.
“Oh, no,” she said, voice muffled by her hand but still clear to Sara's wolf-sharp ears. “Sara, I—I really thought you knew. I mean, it's so clear about you and Rafe, so I just figured this was part of the plan from the beginning...and the two of you being put on patrol together, I thought Alpha was just giving you both more time to learn how to work as a team.” Rielle's eyes shone with what Sara realized were the very sensitive other wolf's tears. “I feel awful.”
“What pack?” Sara's voice barely rose above a strained whisper.
Rielle uncovered her mouth and gripped her empty coffee mug instead. “Alpha wants Rafe to start a new pack. Up north. Really north. To strengthen our Canadian border.”
Sara's stomach dropped. She gripped the chair more tightly.
“Our pack is huge right now,” Rielle went on, her eyes becoming more sympathetic with each word, “and Rafe's been groomed for so long. But he's such a great leader, so even-keeled, Alpha thought he would do best starting a pack that would need impeccable leadership. And this new pack needs to get started now.”
Sara nodded. She felt completely numb and unable to wrap her mind around the information. Rafe was starting a new pack as its alpha? He'd known that when they'd been at the hot springs. She knew when he made her come like she hadn't come in ages—damn her traitorous body, her clit was tightening up right now in piercing anticipation—it truly had been the selfless gesture of a man who cared more ab
out the woman he was with than his own pleasure. The gesture of a wolf who had chosen his mate, and wanted to show her how he valued her.
The calculated move of a man who was leaving. What the hell was he playing at with her? Did he want her or not? Was she his mate or not?
Why did she care? This was her pack, and that was what she cared about.
The thought of the Black Mesa Pack without Rafe, though, sent such a jolt of hard sorrow through her she almost felt a little kick to her gut. It wouldn't be the same without him. She wouldn't be the same without him.
What did it matter? She had a goal, and it didn't include Rafe.
Then why the hell did this news stun the hell out of her?
Her thoughts ping-ponged so rapidly she felt a headache threaten. Her wolf half-whined, half-growled in similar confusion.
Rafe had behaved as a wolf who had chosen his mate because he was about to be tapped to lead a new pack. And he'd made that choice without letting said mate in on the decision.
Her wolf growled, pawing the corners of Sara's mind.
That knowledge hit her hard. The numbness vanished as an enormous surge of anger and adrenaline roared through her instead. She straightened up in the chair.
“I'm going to rip his tail off first,” she muttered. Rielle's eyes popped wide again. “Then I'm going to bite him in the ass so he knows who's in charge around here.”
Rielle leaned back, a safe distance away from Sara. Sara's hands had unclenched her chair and were now tapping at the table. She could feel the energy in them, desperate to get out. How could he? What was he thinking, playing with her like this?
