by Carmen Fox
I shook my head, swaying lightly. Fervent wishes made for a flimsy reality.
Drake took my hand and curled his fingers around it.
Even though my hand was small by comparison, it slotted neatly into his. A chuckle bubbled up in my chest. Who would have guessed that anything about us would fit? Yet my laugh didn’t erupt, because the serious gaze from his silver eyes stole the breath right out of my lungs.
“Over there’s a path wide enough for caravans.” He dragged me deeper into the area. “I’ll show you.”
Maybe I’d been reading too much into this. Drake had taken my hand to guide and protect me, as Jonah had commanded. Nothing else. Besides, a man as guarded as Drake had secrets and baggage, and my carousel was already overflowing with my own crap. I was on a job. Find a missing woman. Then move on.
“Is this camp what you’d hoped to find?” Drake squeezed my hand.
I looked up, electrified. “I guess.”
He strode with a confident pace, head high, not a frown on his face.
Why the squeeze? An unintentional spasm in his fingers? A reprimand for walking too slowly? Or had it been a personal message: I’ve got you. I won’t let go.
I retrieved my hand, careful not to look at him. What was wrong with me? Had some strange magic cast me back into the body of an idealistic teenager who still believed in romance and love?
“You know this area well, don’t you?” I crossed my arms, still avoiding his gaze.
“I come here a lot.” His voice was deeper than usual. “Not only to run free, but to explore. To most, this is forgotten history. To me, it’s a past we’re still living.”
“Is that why you’re so into history?”
“Yeah. They say the past casts long shadows.” He drew me close against his side. “That has never been truer. Your ancestors, your family, lived here. And they built these roads.” He pointed to an area ahead of me.
“Not much of a road. Not on the ground at least, but you’re right, they cleared enough trees to allow a caravan through.”
“One of these roads leads to the greatest mystery of them all. You can see it already.” Drake gripped my waist and shepherded me to a tall, moss-covered rock.
For a second, I pressed my cheek against his chest and inhaled. The homey fragrance of nature mingling with his minty-fresh scent spun my head.
The obelisk dwarfed Drake by a few inches. While the rear was covered by moss, the front was highly polished, save for scores of letters chiseled into its surface. I ran my fingers across the contours and moved my lips to sound out the words.
“Herra means mister.” I pointed at the ones I recognized. “And down here, raamatutoku is a collection of wisdom or books.”
“How do you know that?”
His scent lingered, and I slowly lifted my gaze to his face. “My parents taught me a few things.”
“It sounds Estonian.” The space between his mouth and mine was no wider than a tree trunk.
“It is, but apart from those words, I don’t recognize any others.” I stepped around the obelisk to create distance between me and temptation.
A notch at the base of the large rock caught my attention. I kneeled and scraped off the moss to reveal a sentence.
“Hundist ei saa karjakoera.” My pronunciation would have burned holes in any Estonian’s ear canal.
“What does it mean?” Drake approached and leaned over me, his breath warming my head.
“Not sure. Ei means no. Hundist looks like the German word Hund, or dog in English, but I seem to remember it means wolf.” I placed my hands on the ground to steady myself. “Sorry. Estonian wasn’t on our curriculum.”
“I’m surprised you know any words.” Drake straightened, taking his warmth with him. “Was it your father or your mother who taught you?”
I got to my feet, and he immediately spun me toward him.
Dad had told me that my search for my mother’s past was a personal one, to be undertaken by me and me alone, but he’d failed to warn me about eyes of shimmering silver and a dominance so strong, even in its off-state, it controlled my alpha urges.
“My mother.” The light pressure of his hands on my arms, even the weight in his gaze, made my legs weak. “She was...”
“She was what?” Drake blew his words onto my cheek as a soft caress.
“She was one of them. Her name was Maaren, or Maarah.” I swiped my hand back toward the Estonian sentence. “The words I remember were her words. And this, what you see in this camp, it’s her story. My history. That’s why I want to know about the travelers.”
Drake let go of me and retreated. “You’re Maarah’s daughter?”
A gust of wind came out of nowhere and brought a chill to my bones. “I thought you all knew how my parents met. Jonah certainly does.”
“He never told us.” He crossed his arms. “If everyone knows, why are you sneaking around behind my back?”
“I’m not sneaking. It’s not even that important. My mother has always been a memory, and I simply wanted to make her real. Find out what she was like, how she lived.” I gave him a pointed look. “My priority has always been to find Raven. This here...” I gestured around me. “This is personal.”
Drake remained silent for a few seconds too long.
Had I said the wrong thing? He was Jonah’s protector. Even the suggestion that my eye wasn’t on the case for which I’d been hired could ruin everything. I needed the alpha in my corner, ideally with a dollop of gratitude on his part.
Finally, Drake gave a curt nod. “I get it, but I don’t know why this has to be done hush-hush. Are you ashamed about your mother being a traveler?”
“No. I don’t know.” I pressed my fingers against my forehead. “I’m not even sure what this means. They don’t have a good reputation. Leo says they were mostly humans, not wolves. If anyone found out the German princess came from weak genes... No wonder Marlon wanted them gone.”
A crack slashed through the calm of the forest.
I twirled. “What was that?”
He chuckled. “The woods make sounds, even if no one is around to hear them.”
As a native of the Black Forest, I knew the noises that filled the woods back home, but America had different trees, bushes, and animals. Dangerous animals.
“You look spooked.” He lifted my chin. “Apart from werewolves, no natural predators run in the woods around the Triangle. Besides, I’ve got your back, princess. Thought you knew that by now.”
I swayed, not in body, but in mind. “Don’t call me princess.”
“But you’re precious.” Drake’s eyes shone a dark gray, the color of tarnished iron.
Dammit. He was all tease, no action. I inched toward him, keeping my breaths even.
He didn’t run. In fact, his mouth pulled into a hint of a smile.
The first touch of our lips was velvet, a caress that turned my legs into juddering limbs. A primal yearning raced through my length, leaving goosebumps on the inside of my spine. Why had I waited so damn long? If I’d been half as stubborn, we could have skipped the arguments and moved on to the dizzying, electrifying part days ago.
The tip of his tongue crossed the threshold, and my blood sped so fast it hummed. I’d been kissed many times, but never before had my stomach quivered this way.
Too soon he withdrew, but the gray of his eyes remained, watching. Waiting.
Was this real? Had I made out with Drake in the middle of a case? I leaned back, away from him, still trapped by the lingering memory. He hadn’t touched me, or gripped me and pulled me tight. Maybe I’d misread his look earlier. Maybe he wasn’t into me.
Where did that leave me and the job I’d come to do? First I told him that my focus was divided between Raven and the travelers. Then, to prove my lack of professionalism, I kissed him.
Had I eaten stupid pills by accident?
“Okay. That happened.” I gave him an uncertain smile.
So much for being a confident alpha-to-be. My
first words after my world had tilted upside down could have done with a polish.
“About time, too.” His voice held all the smoothness of smoky whiskey on ice. “Do you wish it hadn’t?”
Had he been waiting for a kiss? Then why the hell hadn’t he initiated it? Why hadn’t he participated with more enthusiasm? And why, for crying out loud, had he finished it so soon?
“It wasn’t professional, that’s for sure.” My tone remained steady—level and non-challenging.
He curled his fingers around my wrist. “That wasn’t what I asked. Do you regret it?”
As if I was going to fall for that old chestnut again. He was still testing me. A yes would sound like an apology—weak. A no would be an admission that I’d got it wrong, overstepped my bounds.
I painted on a cocky smile and colored it in with arrogance. “Regret is for idiots. I stand by my actions.”
“Good, because I think...” His mouth bore down onto mine like flint against steel.
Sparks zapped into my brain, leaving my limbs weak and burning. He ran his hands down my back, held me as if his life depended on it, while I clung to his neck, drawing him deeper into me. Every bit of him teased my senses.
I’d been wrong, so gloriously wrong. Our attraction wasn’t a figment of my overactive imagination.
We parted, and our grins spoke volumes without our mouths uttering a word. Even with his flushed face now inches from mine, my body still crooned.
“Yeah. I’m definitely good with this.” He nudged my hair with his nose and breathed me into his lungs.
“So we agree. Not professional, but—”
“Worth repeating, over...” He pressed his lips against my temple. “...and over...” Then against my cheek. “...and over.” He reached my mouth, which held on to him for a few more seconds.
I was a multitasker, and keeping it casual with Drake while remaining focused on the case would be easy enough. Only one problem with that plan: making out with guys got them all psyched up. Even one kiss could strengthen a man’s antiquated ideas of what roles men and women played in their fantasies. The last thing I needed was for Drake to take the reins even more.
“What’s wrong?” He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist and slayed my thoughts with his scent.
“I... It’s...”
“Has the impossible happened, and you’re speechless?” He chuckled.
“Shut up.” Yet I didn’t push him away. “Raven’s murder should be my priority. You get that, right?”
“Of course. Stop worrying.” He placed his lips against my nose with utmost tenderness. “What about your mother’s history? Want me to look into it more? That Estonian sentence has me intrigued.”
He was good at history and stuff, and an hour ago, I’d have begged for his help. But what if my mother had been too human? What if he discovered I was a poor excuse for a wolf, and that I’d never run free? If he knew the truth, he’d leave me in his dust and tell his alpha. Not only would it mean my utter humiliation, but unleashing my secret could also put my father’s leadership on shaky ground.
“No.” I swallowed down the roughness in my throat. “I know everything I need to know. I’ve found my mother’s home, and I understand how she lived. What more is there? I’m content with that.”
Children’s laughter. Men singing. Women chatting. All of that lay in the past. What remained decades later were a few tree stumps and an empty place in the woods.
“We should go.” I turned and stepped away from the obelisk and from memories that weren’t my own. “Not much to discover here anyway.”
Drake followed a few steps, and then his phone rang, startling a rabbit or mouse in the undergrowth. “Hello.”
I stood patiently by his side, not least because he stroked my neck with his thumb while he listened.
“Is that Jonah?” I asked.
“Hang on.” He pressed the phone against his chest. “Shh.”
Did he just shush me?
He turned his attention back to his conversation. “Got it. I’m on my way.”
“Something to do with the case?” I didn’t even wait for him to stow his phone back inside his pocket and dragged him with me.
“No, my brother. He’s so needy.”
“That’s okay. I have a ton of research to do anyway.” In fact, the sheer length of my to-do list caused my shoulders to tense. “If you want, we can finally visit the lake tomorrow afternoon.”
He kissed me. “We could bring a picnic, but I assume you’d say that’s unprofessional, too?”
I brought my index finger close to my thumb. “A little.”
He sighed. “Fine. What time?”
“I’m supposed to meet with Nat and Jonah at his place in the afternoon.”
His steps halted. “I heard about that.”
“Are you upset?”
“I would be, but you pissed Leo off, which is a good thing.” He started walking again. “Come on then. No rest for the wicked.”
We returned to his pickup hand in hand. Touching him had become second nature fast, but the absence of his lips also pushed the blood back into my brain at last.
If my fears about my mother’s DNA were true, was the throne still an option for me? If my wolf was out of my reach, and I was unable to put my pack into their place, I’d be a poor leader. And even though physical challenges were rare in royal packs, my desperate claim could still lead to violence. Every contender with links to a monarchy could enforce ancient rituals—organized fights that left no survivors. Of course, I’d defend my inheritance tooth and claw, but my death would be all but certain. If not from the first challenger, than from any of those who followed.
But if being an alpha was no longer in the cards for me, what would I do?
Thirteen
Despite delegating the background searches relating to the members of POOF to my assistant, I took on Buck and Cody myself. Buck had conveniently left his name off the list he’d emailed Jonah, but a quick check on POOF’s website filled in the gap.
After I’d shot a message off to my contacts at the Chicago police force, I made myself a cup of coffee and then called my dad.
“Hello, Schatz.” His voice held a pinch of annoyance. “How are you getting on?”
Since I hadn’t asked him anything yet, I assumed one of his advisers had pissed him off. If I wanted to get answers from him, I’d have to tread carefully. “Is this a bad time?”
“Not at all. I need a break.” He hmm-ed, smacked his lips, then gave a satisfying sigh. Seems I wasn’t the only one getting a caffeine fix. “How’s your search going?”
“For Jonah’s missing werewolf? Not great. For Mom’s relatives or any information about her? Worse. It seems no one from the old pack is left. They’ve all moved away.”
“All of them?” For once, he sounded surprised.
Dad always had answers. For ninety-five percent of my life, he’d been totally and utterly unfazed by anything. Mutinies at home, my teenage tantrums—if it didn’t concern my mother in some way, he’d dealt with anything that came his way with ease.
“Yes, all of them,” I said. “The only person who remembers her is Jonah. Jonah is a little cagey on the matter, although he did indicate that Mom was at the center of the trouble with Marlon, their old alpha. Any idea what happened?”
For a few seconds, only my father’s even breaths traveled down the phone line. “Marlon made your mother his target, but don’t for a second think she did anything to deserve it.”
“I wouldn’t.”
“Sorry. Of course you wouldn’t. But that doesn’t matter. This is your journey and—”
“Come on, Dad.” I rolled my eyes up to the ceiling, glad he couldn’t see my childishness. “Give me something. The old this-is-your-journey spiel is wearing thin.”
“I’m pretending I didn’t hear that, for your sake, Kensington.”
Ouch. He hardly ever used my full name.
“I made your mother a promise,” he said.
“One day, I would send you to Marlontown, where you would discover who you are for yourself.”
“How, Dad? There’s nothing here.”
He grunted. “I refuse to believe that. Your mother would have taken precautions. When it came to you, she left nothing to chance.”
Now it was my turn to sigh. This conversation had been a dead end before it had even started. Where Mom was concerned, Dad didn’t compromise. The idea she’d sent me on a fool’s errand never occurred to him.
“Okay, Dad. I’ll keep looking.”
“Good. Trust us, Schatz. You will find answers.”
We said our goodbyes and hung up, surely with him as frustrated as me.
I made myself another coffee and checked my email—and my mood lifted. My friends had come through, and then some. Even though they’d found nothing on Cody, not even a DUI, Buck hadn’t fared that well.
The werewolf might be a friend to Drake and a valued member of Jonah’s pack, but what no one had told me was that he’d had a few run-ins with the law. Not once, but twice had he been investigated for inappropriate relationships with minors, specifically girls of fifteen. How had no one thought this was relevant?
With the human police involved, it didn’t take great insight to surmise that Buck’s groping hands had found human girls in those cases, but had this been a calculated step? If he’d laid a finger on a young wolf, Jonah would have expelled or even killed him. Werewolves did not misbehave or break pack rules. Ever.
But what if Raven had been the exception? What lengths would he have gone to in order to prevent anyone from finding out?
Yet despite the claims against him, he was never charged or convicted. Besides, Jonah’s and Drake’s trust in him did carry weight with me. Rap sheets only ever told part of the story. For all I knew, Buck was innocent.
The remaining emails in my inbox didn’t bring me closer to a solution either. No university had heard of Raven. She hadn’t been admitted to any hospital or shipped to any morgue. The hacker my assistant had hired on my behalf found limited camera surveillance to cover the Triangle, and his facial recognition software had brought no trace of Raven—not at bus stops, in stores, or motels.
