Wounded Wolf

by Moxie North

  “So why bite a human?”

  “Same reason. Mark shows everyone you’re his. He’ll want to taste your blood. It’s a drive in him. That bite will also add his saliva to your system. Shifter DNA is strong, and will change you. I know I shouldn’t be telling you this stuff, but he fucking dropped the ball and I’m not going to let you wander around confused and maybe spouting things you shouldn’t be talking about. Shifters have different pregnancy cycles. It’s based on the animals we can shift into. For us it’s somewhere between canine and human. Just about five months.”

  Prudence couldn’t stop her mouth from dropping open. “You make babies in five months? How is that possible?” She really was trying to keep herself from screeching. She had a handle on things when Mav told her about himself. But leaving out the part in which she would have to become part shifter and pop kids out at an accelerated rate was not cool.

  “And I’ll guarantee you that Maverick, no matter how much bitching he does, will want kids. He’s gotta make everything so fucking complicated.”

  “Deacon, what the hell am I supposed to do? How do I get him to let me in? I like him. I mean, I don’t love him or anything. I can’t tell what I’m feeling because I’m getting nothing from him. Zero. He’s like a big dumb brick wall that you just want to punch.”

  Deacon laughed. “Ain’t that the truth. I like that. I’m going to start calling him the brick wall. He certainly can take a punch anyway. Man has no sense of self-protection. As for how to deal with him? Darlin’, he’s stubborn. Sometimes stubborn men need you to stop asking permission and just get shit done. Do you understand what I’m saying? Quit waiting around for him to make a move.”

  Prudence looked at Deacon hard. Was Mav’s President telling her to just steam ahead? Was she allowed to do that? She had no idea how you even did that. It went against all her rules about choice and consent. But if it was bigger than both of them, didn’t she have an obligation to make it happen? The universe had spoken. Who was she not to follow through?

  Pru and Deacon exchanged another look before she asked, “Got a spare key?”

  Chapter 20

  There was a very good chance that Prudence had made a colossal mistake. Deacon’s encouragement had her driving over to Maverick’s house and retrieving the key that was hidden in the eaves of the front porch. She had to climb up onto the railing and dangle off the post to reach it.

  She unlocked the front door and closed it behind her with a soft click. The house felt like it was abandoned. There were no happy vibes coming from it. Prudence loved the homes you stepped into and could feel the years of joy and life that was soaked into the walls. The heart of a home always shone through the faded walls and scuffed floors.

  This house had no pulse. It was clean, sparsely furnished, and felt so sterile a shiver ran up Pru’s spine. She knew this was because Maverick lived here in silence. He came here when he was in pain and didn’t want people to see it. He came here when he was lonely and tired. Prudence could feel all of that standing in the foyer of the beautiful home.

  She slowly started moving from room to room, feeling out the space, yet also being respectful that it wasn’t her house and she hadn’t been invited in. The front rooms had the barest amount of furniture. The kitchen had a table and the counters were bare except for a toaster, microwave, and coffeepot. No knickknacks, no vases of flowers or cute pictures of chickens. Well, maybe not chickens, but something to make the time spent cooking and cleaning in the room more enjoyable.

  Making her way through the house back to the front, she started climbing the stairs, letting her hand run over the railing that had been worn so smooth over the years it didn’t need polish to shine. She imagined children sliding down it, a million hands descending the stairs for dates, birthdays, and special events. This house could be all those things again. It just needed a little life.

  Upstairs she found three bedrooms. Two of them flanked a hallway bathroom. The bedrooms were empty, except one had an exercise mat on the floor and a number of very heavy-looking weights.

  There was one door left on the floor and Prudence felt her nerves kick up as her hand touched the doorknob. The door opened with a slight squeak and she stepped into Maverick’s bedroom. It looked as though he’d went into a furniture store and pointed at a display set-up. The bed, nightstands, and dresser matched the generic-looking lamps. There was a simple bedspread and a mountain of different pillows piled up. That was a bit surprising, considering Pru thought guys hated extra fluff on beds.

  She let her hand run over the bed and gave in to the desire to pick up one of the pillows and press it against her face. It smelled like him, so much that it made her pussy clench. She set the pillow back down and briefly looked into the bathroom. It was clean too. Pulling open his medicine cabinet, she saw a few prescription bottles that looked full, and the usual male toiletries. She noticed his toothbrush was frayed down like he was an angry tooth scrubber. He really should replace those more often.

  Prudence took a look around and made a decision. This house needed a little color. Heading back down the stairs, she grabbed her purse and keys she’d left by the front door. She locked up and got back into the Cadillac to head into the city.

  Four hours later she returned to the house and managed to unload the car in three trips. It was a good thing the trunk on the Caddy was so big. Ethel said you could fit six bodies in it. Pru wasn’t sure how she came about that measurement, but it seemed accurate now.

  Pru started in the kitchen, putting out treasures here and there. It always amazed her how many brand new things she could find when she thrift shopped. The room needed life, so she brought living things in and gave them spots to grow and flourish. She didn’t want to overdo it—not knowing what kind of reaction she was going to get when Maverick showed up—but she still wanted to make a dent. She added things that she didn’t think he’d mind. Nothing too girly or items that would be in the way of usual routines. She’d stopped by the store and bought some basic supplies for the kitchen. She saw that Maverick had easy prep food: items for sandwiches, an enormous tub of Rocky Road ice cream, and lots of bottled water. Pru picked up the fixings to make breakfast in the morning or maybe brunch. She didn’t know when he would be showing up, but frittatas were an anytime food.

  She put out a welcome mat on the front porch. It was a sturdy brown material good for kicking muddy boots on. Before she came in she had pulled two large planter pots on her first trip from the car. A friend from her sewing group ran a nursery and he hooked her up with two recycled wine barrels stuffed full of petunias and pansies.

  Upstairs she made his bathroom more inviting, buying new items to give the room a theme. There were some things that you just didn’t buy used, like shower mats and the like. She placed a few candles on the bedside in a neutral ocean breeze scent, and an afghan that she had crocheted herself a few years ago was now strewn casually across the end of the bed. It was all colors of the forest. Dark greens, dark blues, and black. She thought it was pretty yet still masculine. She paused to take in the atmosphere. It was better, more lived in, some place she would be comfortable in.

  Prudence had thought long and hard after she’d seen the house. She liked Maverick and she was going to see where this thing with him went. If he had to go kicking and screaming, so be it. She already knew she had his Alpha and President on her side. Who else did she need?

  It was getting dark and Prudence didn’t have to work the next day, so she unloaded her overnight bag and took a shower, washing her hair and leaving it to air dry. She slid on her favorite cotton cami set that was pale pink with white satin trim. Curling into Maverick’s bed, she pulled out a pair of fingerless gloves she was knitting that was going to double as a cast cover for a new patient at the rehab. Knowing Maverick wouldn’t be home until the next day allowed her to relax into the pillows and let her mind wander. It didn’t go far, being surrounded by Maverick’s scent. His bed had a thick layer of memory foam on it that turned hi
s mattress into a giant pillow.

  After just a few minutes, Prudence had fallen asleep with her knitting in her lap.

  The scene before him made Maverick think he’d fallen asleep on his bike and crashed. Because this was as close to heaven as he could imagine.

  When he’d rode his bike up to his house and saw the old Cadillac parked out front, he assumed it was someone up to no good. He parked his bike in the garage and approached the vehicle. It had the distinct smell of Ben Gay and mothballs. Under that scent was Prudence.

  Mav strode up to house and went in through the back kitchen door. Flipping on the lights, he noticed the towels in green and yellow hanging off of the stove and one over the edge of the sink, flowers in little painted pots under the windowsill, and other items that hadn’t been there when he left.

  “What the fuck?” he whispered.

  He walked to the fridge and yanked it open. There was more food than he had left too. Grabbing a water, he cracked the cap and took a swig before looking back around again to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Nope, still little pots of flowers on his counter, and bright towels.

  He took his water and strode into the front rooms. He half expected to see additional furniture, but it all looked the same. Walking to the front door, he flipped on the switch for the porch light and looked through the glass. Giant pots of flowers and what looked like a welcome mat were now gracing his entry, things he was sure he didn’t own when he left the house last.

  Glancing up the stairs when he reached the bottom, he took another swig of water and prepared himself for what he might find upstairs. Glancing down at his boots, he saw his jeans were dirty from riding back from California. He’d been wearing the same clothes for almost twenty-four hours.

  There was no helping it. He crept up the stairs making sure he was as quiet as possible. Walking straight to his bedroom, he found the door open and the light on the nightstand on. Prudence was asleep, leaned back against a stack of pillows—his pillows. Her hair was down, loose around her in a puffy cloud. In her hand were two long silver needles and a pile of dark green yarn.

  Maverick leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and again thought he was hallucinating. He’d picked up on the candles on his nightstand and the soft fluffy looking blanket thing on the end of his bed. He ran his hand over his face a few times. He’d done nothing while he was gone except think about his mate. It took actual physical effort to keep himself from turning around every minute to drive back to her. He worried that she was okay, that she could be cold, hungry... hell, even bored.

  More so he was worried that she would go back to the camp to find him and run into Stitch. After his beat down he was keeping a low profile, tail between his legs and all.

  Breathing in her scent, Maverick could smell she had taken a shower. It was a good idea for him too. Sensing she was deeply asleep, he stepped back out of the room into the hallway and removed his boots.

  He walked back into his room and across to the bathroom. Closing the door with a soft click so he didn’t wake her up, he looked into the mirror. The road wasn’t always kind to your skin when you rode. He was lucky as a shifter he healed quickly. Wrinkles took a lot longer to show on his face than others. His hand brushed against a bag and he looked down. Her shit was strewn around the counter. There was a small bag that had tiny bottles spilling out of it filled with whatever the hell women needed. He was tempted to dig through it and see what treasures were inside, but he resisted.

  Pulling back the shower curtain that he didn’t remember having, he turned the water on, but not before bumping some pink puffy ball made out of netting material. As the shower heated up, he fingered the curtain. He had a plain white plastic one that had done the job just fine. It was still there, just now covered by a new one that was not ugly, just unnecessary. Under his feet he felt softness where before had been cold tile. There was a fluffy rug that matched the curtain now sitting in front of the shower like it had always been there.

  “Geezus,” he mumbled as he stepped into the shower. His mate had made herself at home it seemed. His first thought was she had no right to invade his home and change things. His second thought was she had every right to do whatever the hell she wanted since this was her home too.

  It was that internal conflict that had him shifting after their conversation in Deacon’s cabin and staying out for over a day just running in the woods. When he finally shifted back, Deacon sent him on a run down to California. He really wasn’t needed for security; it was an actual legitimate load of electronics the club had gotten from a job they had done. Well, legitimate as far as they knew. They had a buyer for the electronics down in California, and the crew ran anything that was on the west coast

  There was also a club that asked Deacon for help. They were having problems with a gang that was trying to bring drugs and prostitution to the club’s town. They needed bigger numbers to make sure that the gang knew they weren’t welcome and Redemption was asked to help. Deacon normally didn’t get into other club’s problems, but since this club happened to be leopard shifters, he thought it might be something worth doing. The run was not only to drop the goods, but assess whether or not it was something Redemption could help out with.

  Sitting on the toilet, Maverick started the process to get undressed and remove his clothes, then his leg. He’d picked up his new socket and his leg wasn’t hurting anymore. He got into the shower and sat down on a wood tub caddy that made it look like someone took long bubble baths in his antique cast iron tub. Instead, he found it was perfect to sit on. He hated bath chairs, but didn’t trust himself not to lose his footing on the curved tub bottom.

  Maverick scrubbed the road grime off of him and stepped out, reaching for the towel rack where he kept his one towel. He found his towel folded in thirds next to another towel folded the same way. Only a chick would do that.

  He dried off and ran a comb through his hair. He brushed his teeth and left the towel around his waist. The bathroom was small enough he could maneuver on his one leg. He didn’t want to put his leg back on just to get into bed, so he left forearm crutches behind the bathroom door for when he was moving around upstairs. Maverick grabbed the crutches and walked back into the bedroom.

  Pru was in the same position he’d left her in, needles dangling from her grasp. He shook his head and went over to pull the dangerous implements out of her hands. He set whatever she was working on next to her on the nightstand. Then he stared at her. She was so fucking gorgeous, he felt like he’d never get used to her beauty. He imagined that was the way it was supposed to be. Being away for two days had him warring with himself the whole time. He never should have fucked her. He had her in him now. He could recall her smell with just a thought. The ties that bound them together were strengthening instead of thinning, like he kept telling himself they should. It was bullshit. He wanted her more every second they were apart.

  His ride to California had him replaying each touch and taste. When she’d left angry, he dug his hands into Deacon’s table to keep himself from chasing after her, his wolf adding long lines gouged into the surface to express his anger. His wolf was angry at him, and he didn’t blame him. Maverick had let his mate walk away from them again. They wouldn’t know where she was going or who she’d be with. Wouldn’t know if she was safe, happy, fed. All things that were his job, his duty to make sure of.

  He regretted how fast it had been, but then again, fast kept him from thinking and changing his mind about what was right for her. He thought he had it under control, that he’d be able to stay away from her when he returned and just take the pain that was inevitable from denying his mate.

  Instead, he came home to a dream. A sweet, adorable, exasperating mate tucked into his bed wearing pajamas that looked like they came out of a naughty sorority porno.

  Now he had to decide if he was going to crawl into bed with her, tuck that warm body next to him and accept his fate, or make both he and his wolf miserable.

  Padding t
o the dresser, he grabbed a pair of boxer briefs and took them over to the bench at the end of the bed. He pulled them on and sat for a while, his back to his mate. If he got into bed with her, he might as well bond with her. Bite her and be done with it. But she still deserved something other than him. If she was with a shifter, it should be someone with a huge pack that was full of family and friends. A community she would be welcomed into. She couldn’t want to be part of his current pack. Where would she fit in? How would she fit in?

  Deacon’s words came back to him about how he had a pack and a family waiting for him. That he’d left them, not the other way around. This was the first time in years that he wished he was with his family so they could meet Prudence. They would love her, he had no doubt. That would mean he was her bonded mate and he had reconciled with his family. That was not an option a week ago. He was still being the martyr, still thinking his pain was acceptable.

  What if he started causing Prudence pain because he was keeping her from something she was clearly needing? Crashing a guy’s house and throwing girly fripperies around was not the sign of a woman that wasn’t interested. That was a woman that was picking out wedding china.

  Mav leaned over his knees and dropped his head into his hands. He wished he had his dad to talk to. His father always told him how things were, kept things simple, and told him not what he wanted to hear, but needed to hear.

  He wanted to grab his cell and see if his dad still had the same number. Mav had dropped them a postcard from California. It just had his signature on it, but they would know by scent it was from him. His postcards had been fewer and farther in between. But he felt compelled to send them one. It was almost like he needed to connect again. It was all because of Prudence.