Wild Wolf Chasing

by Rhyannon Byrd

  Her throat shook as she blinked up at him. “I d-don’t know what I am, Max. I swear I don’t.”

  He waited, willing her to trust in him.

  She turned her head to the side and closed her eyes, voice little more than a fractured whisper as she said, “But I… I remember hearing my parents argue about…weird things when I was little.” Opening her eyes again, she brought her gaze back to his as the words started tumbling out of her. “It was only a few times, but she…my mom was furious that my dad hadn’t told her something about his parents and the fact that they weren’t…human. But I didn’t really understand what they were fighting about, because I was too young.”

  “And that’s all you heard?”

  Her blue eyes glistened with emotion as she nodded. “I’ve always thought I must have imagined it, the few times that it happened. You know, like my imagination had tried to come up with any reason for him bailing on us that was better than him just being a jerk, no matter how crazy or impossible.”

  “It wasn’t crazy,” he husked, forcing himself to shove his hands in his pockets and lean back against the front of the dresser, before he did something crazy, like dropping down on his knees and begging her to stop fighting him. To just believe in him and give him a chance, because there was no way in hell he was going to let her down. “Whatever they were arguing about, I’d bet my life that it’s tied to what you’re dealing with now.”

  “I think so too.” She caught her lower lip in her teeth, then slowly let it go. “Should I call my mom and ask her?”

  “I wish you could, but we can’t risk it. If they’re monitoring her calls, which they well could be, then any contact could put her and your brothers in danger.”

  She wrapped her arms around her middle as she turned to face him. “But they’re not in danger now?”

  “As long as you stay away from them, they should stay safe. These bastards who are coming after you, if they’re smart, they’ll limit their involvement with humans as much as possible.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Max thought about how reckless the two jackasses had been when they’d attacked him in the diner parking lot, and he realized they might not give a damn about the risk of exposure. “But if it makes you feel better, I could call in a favor and have someone watch their place until this shit is over.”

  She blinked at him again, looking stunned. “You would do that?”

  “Of course.”

  She smiled—the first sweet, genuine smile she’d given him since he’d tracked her down last night—and it dealt another one of those staggering punches right to the center of his chest. “Thank you. That… That’s really sweet of you.”

  Exhaling a rough breath, he watched her through his lashes as he said, “I’m gonna ask you another question now, and even though I know you’ll want to lie through your teeth, you need to tell me the truth.”

  Her smile fell in an instant, replaced by her more familiar expression of wariness. “What is it?”

  Max kept his gaze locked tight with hers. “Do you feel anything between us?”

  Panic flared in her ice-blue eyes, before she looked away from him so quickly he was surprised she didn’t give herself whiplash. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I only just met you!”

  “Just answer the question, Viv. Do you?” Do you feel the connection that’s between us? Because I’m feeling it so hard it’s killing me.

  “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she answered with a nervous laugh, unable to look him in the eye.

  Max suddenly wanted to smile so badly he could taste it. “And I think you’re lying through your pretty little teeth.”

  She turned away from him without another word, pacing across the room, and he bit back the frustrated curse on his lips, knowing this wasn’t something he could push her on, no matter how desperately he wanted to. Especially when he caught the change in her scent as he headed back over to the sofa and slipped off his jacket, laying it over the arm of the ratty piece of furniture. From the corner of his eye, he saw the way she was staring at his muscular arms, and masculine satisfaction poured thickly through his veins, her lush scent and that wild look of hunger in her heavy-lidded gaze telling him that she wanted him. But before he could call her out on it, he caught the way she winced as she turned to pace back across the floor, and concern quickly dominated his lust.

  “No bullshitting me, Viv. Are you hurt?”

  “What?” she asked distractedly.

  “You just winced,” he said, taking a step toward her. “Are you in pain?”

  “Oh, um, no,” she replied a little too quickly. “I’m fine.”

  “Bullshit.”

  She scowled as she stared back at him. “It’s always bullshit and bullshit and bullshit with you, Max. Do you ever say anything else?”

  “I say all kinds of different things.” He started backing her up against the nearest wall, bracing his hands on either side of her shoulders as he caged her in. “For instance, don’t treat me like an idiot, because I know something’s wrong. So go ahead and show me where you’re injured before I find out for myself.”

  Her eyes went wide, and he snorted under his breath. “Don’t look at me like that, because I’m not buying it. You’re not afraid of me, and you know damn well that I would never hurt you. Yeah?”

  For a moment, she looked like she wanted to argue, just so she could put some emotional, as well as physical distance between them. But then she sighed and sagged back against the wall. “Yeah, I know. You’re an arrogant ass, but you’re not a creep.”

  “Thanks,” he drawled dryly, lowering his gaze to where she’d gripped the bottom of her pink shirt. He did his best not to focus on the smooth, pale skin that was revealed as she slowly lifted the hem, and then he saw the wound, and suddenly all that mattered was that his woman had been harmed. That she must have been terrified out of her mind when it had happened, and he wished he could go back to that diner parking lot and kill the sleazebags all over again. Make their deaths a thousand times more painful, because that was what they’d deserved.

  “Shit,” he quietly growled, dropping down on his knees before her so he could get a better look at the five deep slices that had been carved into her delicate flesh with a lethal set of claws. “They got you good, babe.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  Gently probing the edges of the wound with his fingertips, he saw that the cuts were raw, but no longer bloody, so they didn’t even need a bandage. He just hated that they were clearly still causing her discomfort. “I know this sucks,” he said, “but the good news is that you’re healing quickly.”

  Her sigh was so strong it nearly parted his hair. “You can go ahead and say it, Max.”

  He looked up at her from under his lashes. “Say what?”

  She sounded as freaked out as she looked. “It isn’t normal, how fast it’s healing. I’m not…normal.”

  “And you know what?” he murmured, pulling the hem of the shirt from her clenched fingers so that he could lower it back down as he rose to his full height. “Sometimes normal is way too overrated.”

  “Oh, God,” she groaned, letting her head fall back against the wall.

  “Hey,” he said gently, staring down into her upturned face. “You’re gonna be just fine. Whatever’s going on with you, I’m here, okay? I’ll help you. We’ll figure it out together.”

  As she stared up at him with those beautiful blue eyes that were shadowed with worry, even as she tried so hard not to let it show, a feeling of tenderness pierced through Max’s chest that was so unexpected, he was almost staggered by the shock and intensity of it. He’d known the life-mate thing would make him protective, but this—this thing he was experiencing—it wasn’t just the connection. He had a feeling that what he was dealing with at that moment—the heady, complicated combination of wanting to hold her in his arms to comfort her and needing to get her naked so he could get so deep inside her she couldn’t ever get him out… Yeah, he had a s
trong-ass feeling that was all Vivian.

  “You want me to move away and give you some space, you’d better tell me now,” he scraped out, bracing his hands against the wall again as he lowered his face over hers, the air between their bodies all but crackling with sexual tension, and he knew she could feel it too. Feel the heaviness in the air, as if it were thick with the weight of their need. Their hunger.

  She blinked as she pulled her bottom lip through her teeth—but she didn’t say a word. Didn’t tell him to back off and get out of her face, so Max did what he’d been dying to do, from the moment he first set eyes on her, and covered her gorgeous mouth with his.

  In the next instant, all he could think was Oh. Oh, shit.

  And then he couldn’t think at all.

  The feel of her soft, plush lips cushioned against his own was so damn good he felt staggered by the sensations, and there was no holding back the guttural growl that rushed up from his chest, biting and sharp. She gasped at the rough, aggressive sound, and his tongue pushed past her sweet lips, rubbing against hers, her taste so incredible he was already craving her like an addict. His hands flattened against the wall, fingers nearly digging through the ancient wallpaper when her tongue shied away from his for a second, then came right back. She teased her tongue against his as she gave the softest, most provocative little moan he’d ever heard, and he pressed forward as if he’d been shoved hard in the back by an invisible force, trapping her against the wall with the hard, hungry length of his body.

  Her breath caught as every rigid inch of his cock pressed up tight against her belly, and he’d have been terrified he’d just aggravated her injury, if she didn’t swiftly fist her fingers in his hair and yank him closer. The already wildly erotic kiss turned so deliciously deep and wet, it wouldn’t have surprised him to learn that they were melting more than a few of their brain cells. Hell, the kiss was so savagely hot, he was amazed they weren’t steaming.

  And then everything suddenly went to shit, like a blast of ice water slamming him in the face.

  One second she was kissing him back like she needed his taste to survive, her grip on his hair keeping him close as she wrapped one leg around his waist, practically crawling her way up his body—and in the next, she’d somehow flung him clear across the room, his back and head slamming against the far wall so hard it almost knocked him out.

  “What the…?” he muttered, feeling the back of his head to make sure he hadn’t cracked it open as he slid down to the floor in a dazed heap. “Jesus, Vivian. You could have just told me if you were ready to stop. When it comes to your body, I’ll do whatever the hell you say.”

  She took an unsteady step forward as she gaped at him sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, her blue eyes wide with horror. “Ohmygod, Max. I… I didn’t mean to do that. Are you okay?”

  “Never been peachier,” he offered in a wry slide of words, getting back up on his feet.

  “Don’t… Don’t joke,” she groaned, shoving both hands into the sides of her hair, her face so red she looked sunburned. “That was seriously messed up and we both know it. You don’t need to sugarcoat it for me.”

  He arched one brow at her. “Sugarcoat it for you?”

  “Are you…hurt?” she demanded, sweeping her gaze over him from head to toe, not once, but twice. “Did I hurt you?”

  “Hey, I’m fine,” he assured her, hating that she was so freaked out. “It would take a hell of a lot more than that to hurt me, so relax.”

  “Relax?” she cried, the hysterical sound caught somewhere between a laugh and a sob. Hugging her arms around herself, she started to pace across the floor again. “I don’t even know why that happened. I just…” She shot him a dark look. “Don’t go getting all big-headed or anything, but I started feeling too out of control, and the next thing I knew I was panicking and…that happened.”

  “Guess I should’ve warned you that my kisses have been known to be total control busters,” he teased, hoping to make her laugh. But she just buried her face in her hands instead, making him feel like an ass. “Hey, you wanna talk about it?”

  “Not really,” she said quietly, without lowering her hands.

  It didn’t take a genius to realize that she could use a moment to herself, and though all he wanted was to take her into his arms and comfort her, Max forced himself to do the mature thing and give her some space. “Then, uh, are you gonna be okay if I go and grab my shower?”

  She lowered her hands, looking relieved as she gave him a shaky nod. “Of course.”

  “You’re welcome to join me,” he offered with a little grin, wanting to see her smile at least once before he left her alone. “We could be heroes by conserving water and saving the planet. I’d totally be willing to make that sacrifice for you.”

  A breathless laugh slipped past her lips, seeming to catch her by surprise. Shaking her head again, she murmured, “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

  “Well, it’s an open-ended offer, if you change your mind.” He grabbed the duffel bag that he’d brought in from the truck, his tone serious as he added, “And if you don’t, then don’t go near the window or the door. I’ll only be a minute.”

  “Are you always such a worry wart?” she asked, and he hated that she couldn’t seem to make herself look him in the eye, her posture still stiff with embarrassment over what she’d done…as well as fear over why and how she’d done it.

  As gently as he could, he said, “I just want you safe, Viv.”

  “Even if I tell you to keep your distance?” she whispered, her voice so soft he could barely hear it.

  “Even then. This thing between us, you need to understand that it has nothing to do with protecting you. I’m going to keep those assholes away from you, no matter what happens between us on a personal level. Yeah? Just…don’t run.”

  She gave him a tight nod before she turned her back on him, pacing away from him again. He wanted to stay there in the sad little room with her and demand that she talk things out with him, but bit his tongue, too worried about what he might say if he let the conversation go on.

  As soon as he shut the bathroom door behind him, his wolf chuffed with frustration. Well done, Doucet. You’re about as smooth with her as you are with me.

  Looking in the mirror, Max lifted his middle finger and shot the jackass the bird, which meant he was really just flipping off his own reflection. Shaking his head at himself, he started undressing, hoping a shower and some sleep might sort his crazy ass out.

  Because if it didn’t, then things were worse than he’d feared, and he’d not only lost his control…

  He’d gone and lost his goddamn mind.

  Chapter Five

  Don’t Run

  With a painful gasp, Max awakened from a restless sleep, his heart pounding so hard it was like a death knell in his skull.

  Christ, the nightmares were still kicking his ass.

  For the past decade, they came to him more often than not. Violent, harrowing memories that spanned from the night he’d been attacked, to the terrifying days and nights that had followed. He and his sister, Michaela, had been under Bloodrunner protection at the time, after some assholes had decided to target them because of their close friendship with Torrance Watson, Mic’s best friend and the human female who was married to Mason Dillinger, one of the most badass Bloodrunners the Silvercrest pack had ever seen.

  On the night of the attack, Max had gotten a call from Sophia Dawson, a Lycan teen who’d gotten caught up in the conflict that’d started brewing between the Runners and a sadistic jackass named Anthony Simmons. When Sophia, who’d been a raging party girl (and still was), had called Max while he’d been at work at the local hospital and told him she and her friends needed his help, he’d ditched his Bloodrunner protection and run off to the play the white knight. But he hadn’t managed to save anyone. Instead, he’d been attacked by one of Simmons’s rogue wolves, and the rest was history.

>   A history that you’ve never dealt with. That still has you screaming in the night, his wolf murmured, for once not sounding like a total prick.

  Cursing under his breath, he stabbed his fingers back through his hair as he tried to calm his heart rate, his pulse still roaring in his head like an over-revved engine. He was surprised he hadn’t spooked Vivian with his shout, then realized that the shower was running in the bathroom, so she probably hadn’t even heard him.

  At least there’s that to be thankful for, he thought, seeing as how he was already keeping enough shit from her. It would only make him feel like a dick to add “evasion” to the list of his sins. But no way in hell would he have been willing to talk to her about the fact that he was a screwed-up headcase who couldn’t make it through most nights without reliving the horrors of his past.

  Hell, he was trying to get closer to the girl, not scare her away.

  Reaching for his phone, he was surprised to see that it was already after seven in the evening. They’d slept the entire day away. Then he braced when he saw that Elliot had left him another message, after the one that Max had written that morning eventually went through. As he read the text, his heart just kept on pounding like a friggin’ drum. According to his partner, a group of sleazebags had shown up at the safe house, and Elliot had been forced to fight them off in order to protect Skye. But unlike Max, he’d managed to get one of the attackers to talk and learned some sick shit about the psycho responsible for the kidnappings. And since the safe house had been compromised, Elliot was getting Skye the hell out of there, but would be in contact again soon with more info.