A Pack of Love and Hate

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A Pack of Love and Hate Page 32

by Olivia Wildenstein


  A car engine rumbled up the long, dusty drive. I imagined Sarah was back. I got down from the hammock to help her with the groceries, but froze when I saw it wasn’t a red Mini that had pulled up but a gleaming navy pickup.

  Was her father visiting?

  When the driver got out and slapped the door shut, the daisy tumbled from my fingers.

  In spite of the sunset burning behind the man, darkening his body, there was no mistaking my visitor.

  I supposed I would recognize August in the darkest of nights, his shape as familiar to me as my own.

  He eyed me a long moment before opening the backseat of his new car and lifting a duffel bag. “You can run, but you can’t hide, Ness Clark. Not from me,” he said, his back still to me.

  Words stuck in my throat as he turned. I wanted to ask him how he’d found me, but did it matter? I dropped my gaze to the bag clutched in his fingers, then looked at the road, wondering if my friend’s car was about to make an appearance.

  “Sarah will be back in the morning,” he said, reading my thoughts. “Unless you were looking at that road to assess how fast you could get away.”

  I snapped my attention back to him.

  “We need to talk, so don’t run. I will chase you, but I’d rather not have to do it after the last three days I’ve had.”

  As he drew the door of the house open, I finally found my voice, “You said that if I broke your heart again, you’d stay away from me.”

  He paused on the threshold. “Apparently, I can’t.”

  I winced when the door banged shut behind him.

  I didn’t go inside right away.

  I let him settle.

  I let his anger settle.

  Even though nothing tied me to him, I could sense his irritability seeping through the grayed plank walls of the cabin.

  Pulling down the sleeves of my red silk bomber jacket, I waited for the sun to dip completely and lacquer the woods in darkness before heading inside. The air held a chill that made goose bumps spring across my skin. Granted I was only wearing a bikini under the jacket, having spent most of my afternoon drifting around the infinity pool on an inflatable pizza slice, trying to make sense of my life, of what I wanted to do with it now that I had it back.

  A single lightbulb burned in the loft-style living area—the copper pendant over the granite dining table. August was bent in front of the fireplace, coaxing a fire to life. He didn’t acknowledge me when I came in. Didn’t glance over his shoulder as I took a seat on the couch behind him.

  He poked the blackening logs. “When you disappeared with Sarah, I told myself you’d left because I couldn’t give you what you needed, but then, when no one would tell me where you’d gone, I realized you’d left to get away from me.” He finally straightened and turned around. “What did I do to make you run?”

  “You didn’t do anything.” Slipping my hands between my knees, I tucked my chin into my neck, hoping the barrage of hair blocked the sight of me. “I left so you could get your life back.”

  “My life back?” His voice was so shrill it made me look up.

  “You don’t need to take care of me, okay? Nothing binds us anymore.”

  His green eyes flared.

  “Ingrid—”

  “I don’t want Ingrid, Ness!”

  I recoiled from the harshness of his voice.

  “I’m sorry.” He spoke quietly this time.

  Heat snaked under my lids, blurred the crackling fire.

  He came to stand right in front of me. “Thank you for giving me a choice. I didn’t realize that was your intention.”

  I swallowed.

  He crouched so his face was level with mine and stole my clammy hands from between my knees, cocooning them in his warm ones. “But, Dimples, I don’t want anyone else. I want you. Just you.”

  My chest stumbled with sobs. “You say this now, but in a couple years”—my voice broke—“when I still can’t fill a cup or drive a car—”

  “I’ll just say it again.”

  I bit my wobbly lip.

  “Besides, I have no doubt in my mind that you’re going to be back behind the wheel of a car soon.”

  “You don’t know that,” I murmured.

  “I do.” He hunted my face with his emerald eyes. “You’re much too willful to give up hope, or your independence, for that matter.” He raised one of his hands to my face to push back my long blonde strands.

  I let him look his fill. Maybe if he looked long enough, he’d realize he didn’t want to wake up to this face.

  When he leaned over and kissed my spoiled cheek, my wet lashes swept down, stayed down. A part of me still didn’t understand how he could stand the texture of my scars, much less the sight of them.

  “I’m not sure what I have to do to convince you that I can’t live without you, Ness.” His words pulsed against the tip of my nose. “Bringing you back from the dead would’ve been enough for most girls.”

  My lips twitched. I opened my eyes to find his agonizingly gentle ones set on mine.

  “Is it because I can’t give you any daughters? Is that why you’re pushing me away?”

  A chuckle burst through my trembling lips. “I love boys too, you know.”

  He smiled, but then he grew so serious that my laughter wilted. He unfurled his long body, tugging me up in the process. “Will you come home with me? Not tonight. But tomorrow? Or the day after?”

  Pressing my lips together to stop their shaking, I nodded.

  “Good. Because I have this piece of land.”

  “By a lake?”

  “That’s the one. And the only thing standing on it right now is a palm tree.”

  My head jerked back a little. “You planted a palm tree?”

  “Had to have something to build our house around.”

  Our house? Had this man ever envisioned his life without me?

  “I’m starting to have a surplus of houses,” I whispered raucously.

  “As long as you only have one home.”

  A fresh wave of emotion slicked my eyes. “Oh, August,” I croaked, throwing my arms around his neck.

  His calloused hands slipped under the silk fabric of my jacket and pulled me close, pressing my body against his as though to seal me into his skin and erase the distance I’d put between us. Moment after moment passed in this quiet communion.

  As the logs crackled in the fireplace, I filled my lungs with his familiar scent and my ears with his heartbeats. How I ever thought I could give up this man was beyond me.

  The tendons in his neck flexed under my fingertips. I lifted my head off his chest and craned my neck as his mouth arced toward mine. He kissed me long and deep, stamping the shape of his lips onto mine.

  When he started on my neck, I rasped, “Want to go for a swim?” Between what he was doing to me and the fire, I was dangerously close to overheating.

  I felt the curve of his smile on my skin. “I didn’t bring any swim trunks. Hope it won’t be a problem.”

  I had to clear my throat before I could answer him. “No problem at all.”

  Keeping his eyes on mine, he unbuttoned his flannel shirt and chucked it on the couch, revealing a torso honed to such incredible perfection that my hands trembled as I removed my jacket and draped it over the arm of the couch. As he lowered the zipper of his jeans, I walked toward the sliding glass doors and dragged them open, then crossed the stone deck and dove into the dusky pool to cool down.

  After I broke the surface, I pushed my hair off my face and stared up at the moon that was brilliant and full, illuminating the dark world surrounding us. A moment later, arms wrapped around my stomach and pulled my back against a rock-hard chest.

  A rock-hard everything.

  “You’re missing the pack run,” I said.

  “I’m here with you. Beats any pack run.” He rested his chin in the crook of my neck and inhaled me slowly. “God, I’ve missed you so much.”

  “I can tell. That thing’s going to end up brui
sing my spine.”

  “That thing?” He snorted.

  I turned around to flick him.

  He smiled roguishly at my fingers before backing me against the tiled wall and scooping me up. “To avoid any bruising.”

  He was no longer my mate, and yet I desired him just as much as when he had been. Locking my eyes on his, I rocked against him slowly.

  He gripped my thighs to steady me. “Careful, sweetheart.”

  I tilted my face to the side to study his expression. “Why? We’re no longer mates . . .”

  Hurt darkened his freckles. “You’re my mate in all the ways that count, Ness Clark.”

  “I didn’t mean—” I held on to his shoulders, my pale fingers crimping his brown skin. “It came out wrong.” I linked my arms around his neck. “I love you,” I whispered. “Never doubt that.”

  Keeping one hand underneath me, he brought his other up to tuck a wet lock behind my ear. “I didn’t doubt it until you left.”

  Raindrops began to fall from a dark strip of cloud that moved across the bloated moon, the droplets glittering as they plinked against the glassy surface of the pool.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

  He cupped my jaw and kissed me. And for a long, long moment, that was all we did. And it was perfect and beautiful, but I wanted more. I craved more. So I moved against him again.

  He ripped his mouth off mine.

  Before he could speak, I said, “I’m not in heat.” Sarah had taught me to use my sense of smell to determine my cycle since oral contraceptives didn’t work all that well on werewolves.

  A vein in August’s neck began to throb faster.

  I shrugged. “In case you wanted—you know . . .”

  “In case I wanted to make love to you in this pool?”

  Heat crept up my neck. “Yeah.” So much for using the pool to cool off . . .

  He shifted his hold on me until we were lined up, then his thumb brushed my skimpy bikini bottom aside before settling against my pulsing flesh. As he waited for me to make the next move, he swiped his finger over me.

  Heart pounding like my wolf’s when she scented her prey, I slid him in, inch by slow inch.

  His thumb stilled against me, and a shudder went through him. He closed his eyes. When he opened them again, they glittered as wildly as the stars rioting around the storm cloud.

  “I moved your body,” I said. “We never talked about it, but I moved you.”

  “I know, sweetheart. Almost got me killed.” He glided himself out and then dipped back in.

  I shot him a sheepish smile. “Seems like I’m almost getting you killed a lot. Are you sure you’re not better off without me? You’d surely live a much longer life.”

  August’s expression became edged with so much fury and pain that I caressed his jaw.

  “I didn’t mean to make you angry.”

  “There is no version of me without you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s you and me, Dimples. Always has been and always will be.”

  Between the feel of his thick, silky flesh, the scent of spice and rain lifting from his skin, and the timbre of his voice, my heart thundered in my chest. He dragged my body away, then thrust into me, causing the pounding to travel lower. As the rain fell harder, it created a cacophony that drowned out everything but the sound of our hearts.

  His lips claimed mine with such violence that his teeth knocked into mine. My legs clenched around him as a thrill began to build in my core, and then a moan tumbled from my mouth straight into his as the sensation overrode my entire system. He pumped harder, and I clawed at his back, the orgasm exploding inside me, striking my veins and muscles, battering my sinews and bones, scorching my skin.

  He deepened the kiss, his teeth catching on my bottom lip. As the taste of warmed copper coated my palate, a new wave of pleasure clapped against my thighs and rushed through my limbs, making me gasp his name.

  His rhythm turned brisker, more urgent, rough grunts scraping the walls of his throat, causing the flutter behind my belly button to transform into full-on drumming.

  “Sweetheart,” he rasped a second before my body undid his.

  The water around our bodies rippled, and then it began to glitter as though it were drizzling stars instead of raindrops. It was so beautiful. Everything about that moment was so beautiful. I wanted to immortalize it in my mind for all the years to come.

  Still surfing on the wake of my orgasms, I stroked the nape of his neck, watching his features crinkle and smooth as he poured himself inside of me.

  Our first time had been special, but this time . . . this time had been spectacular. I hoped it had also been good for August. Maybe he’d had better. I grimaced at the thought.

  “I have never had better,” he whispered huskily. “Never.”

  The blood drained from my face. Had I spoken out loud?

  August blinked. And then color leached from his skin as he looked down at the water that still glittered wildly around us. Oh . . . shit.

  I blinked, because his mouth hadn’t moved to form the words, and yet somehow, I’d heard them. “Did I—did you—”

  My navel pulsed harder than my core and heart put together.

  Was the link back?

  I think . . . I think . . . His voice surged inside my mind.

  “I can hear you. Why can I hear you?” I asked, barely louder than the plinking raindrops. “Did we just . . . did we just consolidate the link?”

  Sadness furrowed his brow. “I think—God, I’m so sorry. I know you didn’t want this.” He pressed his forehead against mine, his fingers digging into my thighs. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

  For a moment, I held perfectly still, absorbing the significance of what had just transpired. Then, without using sound or breath, I said, I’m not.

  He lifted his face off mine.

  “Are you sorry, August?”

  “No.” His forehead had smoothed. “But I’ve wanted this . . . Well, I’ve wanted this since the tether snapped into place.” He shot me a sheepish smile that made him look more boy than man, but then he shifted a little, and I felt him harden inside me again, reminding me that he was all man.

  My man.

  His smile turned devilish as he tugged on the tether, reeling my body in until he was fully sheathed inside. That’s right, sweetheart. Your man.

  I laughed. “I can’t decide if I like this new skill of ours or fear it.”

  “Why would you fear it?”

  “Because I’ll have no more secrets.”

  “Planning on keeping things from me now, are you?” He grunted, so I flicked him, which just intensified his amusement.

  “How am I supposed to surprise you with anything if you can read my mind?”

  I’ll act surprised.

  I rolled my eyes but grinned.

  For a moment, neither of us spoke, neither out loud, nor through the new connection that had opened between our minds. We simply contemplated each other.

  Then, “You look happy tonight, Dimples. Are you?”

  I cupped his jaw, roughened by stubble and years, and even though I didn’t need to sound the word, I spoke it out loud for the moonlit land to hear. “Terribly.”

  Afterword

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  Acknowledgments

  This book has been one of the hardest books I’ve written in my career.

  The first reason being that it’s the last chapter in my trilogy, which means I’m indefinitely parting with my characters. (There might be a spinoff at some point, but I won’t promise anything unti
l I’m certain I can deliver.)

  The second reason it was bittersweet to pen is because of the love triangle. You might not believe this, but it wasn’t my intention to write one. Originally, The Boulder Wolves was supposed to be a duology (Ha! Like I could ever fit all my twists and turns inside two books . . .) and Liam was supposed to die at the start of book 2.

  Well, I loved him too much to kill him off, so I adapted my storyline to fit him inside.

  And that’s how I ended up with a love triangle.

  Anyway, all this to say that I didn’t mean to do this to Ness, or to you.

  I hope you’ve enjoyed this series. Thank you for running along with my wolves, for your heartfelt messages and kind reviews. I hope you’ll join me on my next adventures.

  Up next, angels: FEATHER!

  Thank you to my own true mate for putting up with me. For making my life sweet and beautiful, each and every day. For taking me on adventures even when I want to stay home with my computer.

  Thank you to my children for inspiring me and for filling my life with your shrill voices and contagious laughter.

  Thank you to my family for buying my books. Even if you never get around to reading them, I appreciate your support.

  Thank you to my kick-ass beta readers—Katie, Astrid, and Theresea. I love you girls so darn much.

  Thank you to my publisher, to my fabulous editor, Krystal, who never fails to challenge me, to my hawk-eyed proofreader, Janelle (there were a lot of backs . . . ), and to Monika for another gorgeous cover.

  But most of all, thank you.

  Also by Olivia Wildenstein

  YA PARANORMAL ROMANCE

  The Lost Clan series

  ROSE PETAL GRAVES

  ROWAN WOOD LEGENDS

  RISING SILVER MIST

  RAGING RIVAL HEARTS

  RECKLESS CRUEL HEIRS (coming 2020)

 

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