What A Wolf Dares (Lux Catena Series Book 2)

by Amy Pennza

  Stalker.

  Well, if she was a stalker, she was in good company. Because half the females in the country knew Remy’s family tree, his favorite color, and what he liked to eat.

  “Bet they don’t know he likes True Blood and The Great British Bake Off,” said a little voice in her head. She smiled. Hell no, they didn’t. Those were little tidbits she could keep all for herself, along with the way he shoved his hand through his hair when he was thinking, or how his fingers had little calluses on the ends that tickled her skin when he touched her.

  Her breath hitched. If she kept thinking about him, she was going to need another sink bath. She smoothed the sweater down her midsection. It probably hit Lizette around the upper thigh. On Sophie, it was more a crop top. Luckily, the tank top was long. She dug socks and a pair of Ugg boots from the duffel. The boots were at least one size too small, and she felt like Cinderella’s ugly stepsister squashing them onto her feet, but she had to make do. It was mid-November. Walking barefoot around a forest in upstate New York wasn’t an option.

  She finger-combed her hair, running her hands through the waves. Air drying always made it curlier than usual. She would have loved to straighten it, but there was no time for hair maintenance when three Alphas were snarling at each other two miles away.

  With a final glance in the mirror, she stuffed her dirty clothes in Remy’s hamper and headed for the stairs. As she descended, Dom and Remy emerged from the kitchen. Remy wore the same clothes as last night, but his hair was damp, and the faint scent of toothpaste reached her.

  She almost clapped a hand over her mouth. Shit! She’d been so busy reconstructing last night, she forgot to brush her teeth. Remy’s mouth had thoroughly explored hers, which meant she carried his scent.

  But her oversight would have to remain, because Dom walked to the door and opened it. “Come on. Let’s hope they haven’t killed each other.”

  She looked at Remy, prepared for him to crack a joke. But he just offered his hand, his expression grim. “Bon courage.”

  “Does that mean courage?”

  He led her to the door. “More like good luck.” His face turned even grimmer. “I think we’re going to need it.”

  15

  The guy who invented yoga pants needed to be designated a national hero.

  Remy tried and failed to tear his gaze away from Sophie’s ass as they walked toward the Lodge in the predawn light. The path was so narrow it was more of a suggestion, really. Most werewolves preferred to navigate the forest on four legs instead of two, and they had little need for trails.

  The lack of footpaths also prevented humans from wandering too close to the Lodge. All this meant he, Dom, and Sophie were forced to walk single file or spend the whole time scrambling over fallen logs and clumps of brush.

  Maybe it was misogynistic of him to assume the inventor behind yoga pants was a guy, but he didn’t think so. For one thing, he was pretty confident he was right. Only a man would think to encase women’s backsides in such a thin, tight material. And females went along with it.

  Bless them.

  A branch came out of nowhere, almost smacking him in the face. He stumbled sideways into a patch of tall grass.

  Sophie stopped and turned. Ahead of her, Dom stopped, too. His blue eyes darted between Remy and Sophie, as if he knew exactly what just happened.

  “Everything okay?” he asked. The smug bastard.

  “Yep.”

  Dom let a heavy silence fill the air, then jerked his head toward the Lodge. “Let’s keep moving, then.”

  “You bet.”

  When they went a few paces, Remy caught up to Sophie.

  She moved sideways to accommodate him. “Are you really okay?” she whispered.

  He looked down at her and smiled. “Yes, but I probably shouldn’t follow you anymore.”

  Her eyebrows drew together. “Why not?”

  “Because you’re a walking distraction, sweetheart.”

  She blushed, but a smile replaced the frown.

  Good. That was good. Anything to help her feel less nervous. Back at the cabin, her panic had been almost palpable, like a wet blanket thrown over a fire. The cloying, smothering feel of it had filled the living room like steam. He’d wanted to take her in his arms and murmur encouragement into her hair. Dom’s scrutiny had stopped him—that and the need to haul ass to the Lodge as quickly as possible.

  It would have been better if they showered. Even now, in the middle of the forest, he caught traces of his scent on her. Wolves were usually nose-blind to their own essence, but something about mixing one person’s scent with another’s changed the original—like combining seasonings in a recipe. Someone scenting Sophie alone might notice it, but they wouldn’t be able to identify what was different. But with him by her side, even a wolf who hadn’t made their first Turn would know what they’d been up to.

  Honestly? He liked it. Scratch that, he fucking loved it. His wolf was on board with it, too. It had balked when he washed up in the kitchen sink, an observant Dom radiating disapproval. The wolf was pleased Remy hadn’t been able to remove all traces of Sophie from his body. Deep in his mind, the beast practically strutted.

  But the beast was just one part of him. His human half knew how dangerous it was for Sophie’s father to smell him on her. Hamish wasn’t going to like it, either. He wasn’t really her father-in-law. He couldn’t call himself that until she and Asher finished the lux catena. As long as Remy had breath in his body, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Still, Hamish and Gregory could make life decidedly unpleasant for Sophie—and for the New York Territory.

  Worry curled in his gut like a bloated snake, little tongues of anxiety flicking at his guts. He wasn’t nervous for himself. As a Telepath, he rarely had to worry about a challenge. Wolves were usually too busy sneering at his Gift to pay much attention to his size or strength.

  No, his worry was for Sophie. He’d do anything to protect her. So would Max. And Dom might be an arrogant, emotionless dick, but he was honorable and loyal. Any Hunter in the territory would put his life on the line to keep Sophie from harm. But they didn’t have the numbers to take on two territories at once. If Sophie’s father and Hamish Benton decided to squeeze, there was a real threat of everyone getting caught in the vise.

  Ahead, Dom cleared the edge of the forest and stopped.

  “What is it?” Sophie asked, a tremor of anxiety in her voice.

  “The Lodge.” Remy pointed. Through the leaves, a huge stone and timber structure loomed.

  Sophie sucked in a breath, then scrambled the last few feet of the path. When she was almost through the trees, she stopped so fast Remy almost slammed into her.

  “Whoa.” He grabbed her shoulders.

  “Sorry!” She half-turned, an apologetic look on her face. “I just didn’t realize it was so close to the cliff!”

  “Gorge,” Dom said. “A cliff is just a sharp drop-off. A gorge has a cliff on both sides.”

  “Interesting,” Remy said. “Are you covering ravines and canyons in next week’s class?”

  Dom ignored him.

  Sophie didn’t seem offended by Dom’s correction. She walked to the edge and peered over. “How far down is it?”

  “About a hundred feet,” Remy said, walking up beside her. “Legend has it our ancestors used to toss criminals over the side. That’s probably how the town got its name.”

  She tested it out. “Penitentiary Gorge.” Then she shivered. “That’s barbaric.”

  “I like to think our executions are more humane now.” He turned. “Aren’t they, Dom?”

  Dom grunted and walked to the footbridge that ran from one side of the gorge to the other. He grabbed the rope handrails on either side and started to cross.

  Sophie frowned after him. When he was halfway across the gorge, she leaned into Remy and whispered. “I don’t think he liked that.”

  “I disagree.” He kept his voice down, but it didn’t really matter if Dom h
eard. He already knew what Remy thought. “If Dom didn’t like the idea of killing people, he shouldn’t have become Beta.” Executing criminals and latents who had lost the battle with sanity was part of a Beta’s job. Dom did Max’s dirty work and kept him out of danger.

  Sophie sighed. “Still. I’m sure he doesn’t take pleasure in it.”

  They’d just have to disagree about that, because Remy was fairly certain Dom took a great deal of pleasure in it. Ever since Sabrina died, he cared little for life. Sometimes Remy wondered if he even cared about his own.

  The sky had lightened as they talked, and the Lodge’s windows picked up the first rays of the morning sun that had yet to climb over the horizon.

  Dom reached the other side of the bridge.

  Remy took her hand. “Come on. Watch your step on the bridge.”

  She let him lead her to posts that anchored the ropes to the ground. “Maybe it’s better if I fall,” she said. Her voice was lighthearted, but there was a current of fear in it.

  “Don’t say that, chère.” He kept his hands just behind hers as they started across the bridge. Remy could cross it in thirty seconds, but he kept his steps slow and shuffling to accommodate Sophie. “No matter what happens with your father, we’ll get through it, hein?”

  The bridge swayed, and she sucked in a breath. “Wh-what does that mean?”

  He had to think about that one. “It’s kind of a catchall word, actually. Sort of like huh or okay.”

  “It’s so cool that you’re bilingual.” She said the last word on a squeak as the bridge swayed again. The wind tossed her hair and pulled at their clothes.

  “Steady, sweetheart.” He gave her hands a reassuring squeeze. When the swaying stopped, he said, “I can teach you French.”

  “Really?”

  Ooh, the possibilities for that were endless. The image of Sophie in a beret and nothing else popped into his mind. His cock hardened. So what if it was cliché? Any Frenchman would understand.

  She turned her head slightly. “Remy?”

  He coughed. Focus, idiot. “Yeah?”

  “You said you’d teach me French.”

  “Ouais.” He leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck. “Avec plaisir, mamour.”

  “I understood about half of that, but it sounded amazing.”

  They reached the other side where Dom leaned against a post, arms folded.

  Sophie stepped onto solid ground with a grateful sigh. “I’m glad that’s over.”

  Remy exchanged a look with Dom. They didn’t need Telepathy to discern each other’s thoughts.

  The easy part was over. Now the real danger began.

  16

  The Lodge was the largest building Sophie had ever seen.

  It loomed over them as they climbed a set of stone steps that led from the gorge to the imposing structure. It was so tall it blocked the rising sun, throwing a giant shadow over this side of the gorge.

  She shivered.

  “You okay?” Remy climbed beside her, his long legs eating up the stairs with ease.

  “Yes. Just cold.” She was hungry, too, but eating was out of the question. Confronting her father was bad enough. Hurling on the carpet would just add humiliation to everything else.

  They reached a small door tucked against a slate patio decorated with wrought iron chaise lounges and picnic tables. Under other circumstances, she could envision relaxing there in the sunshine.

  Dom punched a code in a small keypad next to the door. It beeped, and a light flashed from red to green. He popped the door and ushered them inside. “After you.”

  Remy ducked inside, and she followed him into a short but well-lit hallway. Immediately, warmth enveloped her. The walls were an understated cream, the floor underneath the same dark gray slate as the patio.

  When Dom was inside, Remy tossed his head toward an open doorway at the end of the hall. “This way.”

  He led them into a spacious kitchen that looked like it belonged in a busy restaurant. An industrial stove with two thick doors and multiple burners gleamed along one white-tiled wall. Two huge refrigerators dominated another wall. Her stomach growled.

  Remy gave her a sympathetic look as he hit a swinging door and held it open. “We’ll find something to eat after we talk.”

  He made it sound like they were attending a conference. Although, he probably said it for her benefit. Her heart had been thundering since they left his cabin.

  The kitchen led to another long hallway, which branched off to another…and another. She couldn’t have found her way back to the door by the patio if she tried. Eventually, Remy took them up a spiral staircase that opened onto what looked like a medieval great hall—albeit an expensively furnished one. The walls were paneled with a rich, dark wood. Twin staircases flanked either side of a giant stone fireplace that crackled with a cheery fire. High overheard, a catwalk connected the staircases in a long sweep.

  Remy led them to a seating arrangement by the hearth. A cluster of wolves sat around the fireplace, their expressions stern. Sophie recognized her father’s Beta and top two Hunters, along with the Beta from the Vermont Territory. There were also two strangers—both tall, burly wolves who stood as soon as they saw Remy and Dom.

  “Beta.” One of the strange wolves walked forward, relief in his voice. “I was just about to call you.” Behind him, the rest of the wolves rose, their gazes on Sophie. A few seconds after she stopped, several of the men inhaled deeply…then looked between her and Remy. One of her father’s Hunters scowled.

  Heat entered her cheeks, and her scalp prickled.

  Dom focused on a set of big double doors just off the great hall. “Are they in there alone?”

  “For the past twenty minutes,” her father’s Beta said, stepping forward. A dark-haired, muscled wolf named Gunnar, he was nice enough, if a little rigid. He’d always been respectful toward her. Like every other wolf in her father’s pack, however, he took his lead from the Alpha. Since her father was usually displeased with her, Gunnar tended to treat her with a certain aloofness.

  He looked at her now, his gaze raking over her wind-blown hair and borrowed clothes. “If you wanted attention, Sophie, you’ve certainly got it.”

  Her heart sped up. “I don’t want attention. I just want to be left alone.”

  “Doesn’t look like that to me.” This from the Vermont Beta, a young wolf named Allen. He flicked a glance at Remy and sneered. “Doesn’t smell that way, either. Seems like you’ve got plenty of company.”

  Remy angled his body in front of hers, but not before she saw blue roll over his eyes. “Show some respect when you address an Alpha’s daughter.”

  “Or what?” Allen stepped closer to Remy.

  Remy went toe to toe with Allen, his height making him loom over the other wolf. His voice dropped into an inhuman register. “Or I’ll shove your teeth down your throat.”

  Allen had to look up to meet Remy’s gaze, but it didn’t seem to bother him. Blue burned in his eyes as he said, “She’s an Alpha’s wife, sneak. Although from the smell of her, it seems like she’s been spreading her charms around.” He flicked a look at Sophie. “Spreading her legs, too.”

  A low growl rumbled in Remy’s throat. His chest touched Allen’s.

  Dom put a hand on Remy’s shoulder. “Not now, Rem,” he murmured.

  Remy tensed, but he let Dom ease him back. “Later, then,” he said, staring into Allen’s eyes.

  “Count on it,” Allen said. “Telepath.” He spat it like he’d tasted something filthy.

  Fear arced through Sophie. Her throat went dry. Allen’s eyes held the promise of violence, and it was all her fault. She’d done this. She’d called out to Remy, and by doing so, she’d dragged him into a hopeless mess. If he got hurt, it would be because of her.

  The double doors swung open, and Max stepped out. His pale gaze found Remy and Allen. “Is everything all right?” His tone made it clear there was only one answer to his question.

  Dom t
ugged Remy back another step. “Yes, Alpha. We’re fine out here.”

  “Good.” Max looked at Sophie. “Your father would like to see you, to make sure you’re all right.”

  That’s not why he wants to see me. He knew damn well she was fine. He also knew he had the upper hand, which meant they all had to pretend he was a concerned father checking on his daughter’s welfare.

  She drew in a breath. “Of course, Alpha.”

  Max gestured toward the open doors. “Come, then.”

  Alone? Anxiety fluttered in her stomach like a thousand trapped butterflies. Later, she wouldn’t quite remember how she got from the fireplace to Max. The hall and the wolves seemed to fade into the background as she walked, a buzzing sound filling her ears. Was it possible to pass out from fright? Maybe if she fainted, she’d wake up and everyone would be gone.

  But she didn’t faint. She reached Max, who stared down at her, a questioning look in his eyes. Eventually, she realized he’d asked her something.

  She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “Are you okay to do this?” His voice was so low she wasn’t sure if he mouthed it or truly spoke the words out loud.

  “Y-yes.” As she stared into his eyes, a curious calm swept her. The buzzing receded. His shoulders filled the doorway. He wasn’t as big as Remy, but authority radiated off him like a beacon. All at once, she remembered he wasn’t just the New York Alpha—he was her Alpha. Max had given her sanctuary. She was under his protection.