The other werewolf, the one in charge of this small pack, pulled into the parking lot with a screech. He didn’t even bother to find a parking space, just left his car, motor running and blocking three others in. If Robert had been one of them, he would have snarled at the arrogance. He watched the wolf-man run up the sidewalk and bang a fist on the door, watched him look around and take note that the assailant was gone. Sniff the air as if he could find him hiding in his car.
Robert sneered. The whole damned race was arrogant. They thought a superior sense of smell and heightened vision, extra speed and strength was all it took to be at the top of the food chain. They didn’t think humans were a threat, so they ignored them except as prey. A mistake they would pay for.
After several minutes, the two exited, got in their cars, and left. He knew they’d be returning to the mansion the male werewolf called home. Why he left his woman free to roam without protection was beyond Robert, and it should have worked to his advantage.
He started his car and followed them out of the lot, but went in the opposite direction. He drove to a narrow dirt path, barely wide enough for his car, and turned down it. When he judged he’d gone a safe enough distance, he stopped. From the trunk, he retrieved the gear he’d need for this recon mission. The heavy black boots and night vision goggles. He hesitated over the scent inhibitor and decided to leave it. There wasn’t much of the concoction left, and he’d need it when he took her.
Walking into the woods, he followed a deer path he’d discovered on a previous trip. It ended at the fence that marked the werewolves’ boundary line. He scaled it easily and picked his way through the underbrush to the place he could watch, hidden by the tree line. The house was well lit, but quiet. He couldn’t see movement in any of the windows, but he knew they were there. Four adult werewolves. Four wolves who would pay for his wife’s murder.
He stayed until he heard another car arrive. One more to destroy. The need for vengeance burned through him, but he quietly melted into the darkness, back the way he’d come, with a silent reminder to himself. Not yet. The time would come, but not yet.
Three
A small, curious group of hunters met Anthony and Ellen when they entered with her things. She left him to explain and went in search of an empty guestroom, picking one on the second story at the end of the hall. It had a small balcony and overlooked the backyard. She dropped her things and considered finding a meal, but her stomach rolled at the idea. Her body wasn’t up to that yet. She lay down and closed her eyes, almost afraid to test the theory that when she did, she’d see the attacker again. But it wasn’t his image that rose in her mind. With a groan, she got up. Clint wouldn’t leave her alone, and he wasn’t even aware of it.
She hesitated over her bag. In a moment of insanity back at her condo, she’d dropped a vibrating egg in it and considered using it now. She’d been fighting the need for sexual release, but she hesitated. There were too many werewolves with superior hearing and sense of smell in the house. They already looked at her with pity whenever Clint’s name came up and their knowing she had no choice but to get herself off would be the final humiliation.
She couldn’t stay up here alone, however. The longer she did, the more tempted she became. Maybe some company would help distract her. She left the room and went back downstairs, but paused outside Anthony’s door. It wasn’t closed all the way, so she caught his part of the conversation.
“Just thought you’d like to know that while you’re busy being self-righteous in Tennessee, your mate was attacked, asshole. Ellen is an incredible woman. I have no idea why you refuse to see that, but this shit is putting her in danger now.”
There was a long pause while she presumed Clint answered. She leaned back against the wall and put a chokehold on her anger. At Clint. At Anthony for calling him. The hell with it. She barged in, stopped in front of the desk, and held her hand out for the phone. He cocked an eyebrow at her silent, imperious demand but handed it over.
“Damn it, Anthony, answer me. I left her there to keep her safe.”
“She’s perfectly capable of keeping herself safe,” she said icily. “Which you would know if you were around.”
His tone changed, softened. Damn him. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” No gentleness returned in her voice.
He sighed. “Put Anthony back on.”
“Why? For some reason he thought you should be informed. Consider that done.”
“’Cause I want to ream him a new—” he bit the words off, and she almost laughed, barely holding in the bitter response. His concern for her welfare didn’t generally go beyond keeping her away from him.
“Thankfully, you’re not here, so that’s not possible.”
“I’ll be there in a few hours.”
She felt as if he’d reached into her chest and squeezed her heart. It was painful. “Don’t bother. We have everything under control.”
“I’m coming. And don’t even think about taking off on your own, Ellen,” he warned.
She scowled. How the hell did he always seem to know what she was thinking? “Fine. Suit yourself. But you’re wasting your time.”
She heard a dinging sound, like a car door was open, and knew he really was coming. The knowledge filled her with a mixture of dread and hope, anxiety and anticipation. Shit. She had to get control of herself, had to be calm and resolute when he arrived. Otherwise, she’d do what she always did. Let her guard down, let her heart soften toward him again, only to be left alone to put the broken pieces back together. She tossed the phone to Anthony and spun on her heel, fleeing the room before she lost control and he saw too much.
It was an awful thing to have a mate who didn’t want her but couldn’t seem to help checking up on her. She refused to show the sorrow or anger over the ache that would never be filled. She couldn’t stand the idea of being alone in her room though, and none of the ground floor spaces were safe either. Someone would come check on her and she didn’t want the company, so she head to attic. It was a huge finished space that in the days of the old Regis had been used as for meetings and parties.
She’d be using it as a quiet refuge for years and wasn’t surprised when Anthony found her there a couple hours later. Thankfully, he didn’t speak. Didn’t offer words of support or encouragement they both knew meant next to nothing when it came to dealing with Clint. Instead he walked along the walls, which were lined with portraits of kings going back centuries. He stopped in front of the last and she joined him.
“Have you managed to learn anything from your friend about who the Regis is?”
She snorted. Like that was gonna happen in this lifetime. The last Regis had been betrayed by some of the hunters in his inner circle and killed by Society assassins. His daughter and only child had disappeared a few weeks before. No one knew if she lived. If she’d been sent to safety or possibly killed. Anthony had become convinced in the last weeks that she’d lived long enough to have a child, however. A werewolf son who carried his grandfather’s genes.
He’d reached that belief after Ellen had accidentally outed Delilah Anderson as Delilah Danvers, the granddaughter of one of the former king’s advisors and cousin to his family. Ellen had kept that secret for years, even from Anthony who’d given her an earful after she’d been forced to fill him in. She’d just been so damned surprised to see Delilah as part of a pack when she’d always stayed hidden. Seeing the other woman at the Appalachian alpha’s home, the house Ellen had grown up in when her father was alpha, had scrambled her brains. That was no excuse for the betrayal though and she wished like hell she could go back and slap a hand over her mouth.
“I tried to see her before I left but the twins wouldn’t let me in the door.” Delilah had mated Aaron and Jesse Williamson. “I left her a voicemail. Emailed her. There’s not much else I can do.”
“Shame about that,” he muttered, starting at the portrait. “It’s nagging at me. Something familiar about this guy.”
Not
surprising considering the amount of time he’d spent looking at it the last few weeks. She didn’t remind him of that.
“You really think there’s an heir, don’t you?”
“Fuck if I know. You’re in the archives a hell of a lot more than me. What do you think?”
“It would be freaking hard to hide. You heard Rule and Lawe’s report.”
It made her nervous, that report. Delilah was a lot more than just a cousin of the king. She hadn’t witnessed the incident but the two hunters had. Not only had they seen Delilah shift—the first verified sighting of a female werewolf—but she’d had the strength and power long rumored to belong only to those in the Regis family. One person having that much power was hard enough to deal with. But two? It would shake their world up that was for damned sure.
“If there is a Regis and you find and bring other female werewolves here he could consider it a power play. An aggressive act.”
Anthony sighed. “I’m sure the alphas are looking too. Besides, if there is a living Regis he hasn’t made himself known. He can hardly complain about me moving to protect women we know are in danger.”
He paused, still staring at that damned portrait. “What’s your gut say, red?”
She almost smiled—he was the only one she let get away with that nickname—but his somber, worried tone got to her.
“That the world is changing rapidly. Not just the evolution of our people but the world. Technology. If we want to survive we better hope he lives. We’re gonna need him.”
He frowned. “I wish I didn’t agree with you. And god help us all if he’s someone we can’t trust.”
He started walking towards the door. “Come on. You haven’t really told me anything about the attack on you yet.”
And she really didn’t want to. Everyone was worried about women who lived outside the packs, and she’d had to be firm about keeping her space. She shook her head but followed him downstairs and leaned against the door of his office when he went inside. He gave her a concerned look when she didn’t follow.
“Ellen?”
The door opened behind her, saving her from replying. She didn’t turn to look right away. She didn’t need to. She always knew when Clint was close.
Four
Clint was in the grip of the worst rage of his life and thanked god when he finally crossed the state line. Twenty miles closer to Ellen. Twenty miles closer to keeping her safe while struggling to keep her at a distance. The idea infuriated the wolf half of his nature, and he knew it was going to be damned near impossible to restrain it, to leave her unclaimed. He gritted his teeth, and his knuckles popped from clenching the steering wheel so hard. He’d managed it for years by keeping his distance. If he didn’t have to see her every day, it could be done.
He hardened his resolve. She thought he was still resisting because of the age difference, but he’d gotten over that years ago. The truth was darker. Dirtier. He knew he couldn’t live with her one day turning and looking at him with revulsion, and it would happen. Mates didn’t keep secrets from each other. She knew he’d been the one to infiltrate the Society of rogues a few years ago. She didn’t know that he’d had to become one of them to do it.
After thirty interminable minutes, he pulled up to the gate and punched in the security code. Tapping the steering wheel, he waited impatiently for the gate to swing open and then close behind him, before he drove down the long lane to the mansion. During the day, the gate was left open, but at night they were careful to make sure no one who didn’t belong there could get in. He left the car in the small parking area on the side of the house, grabbed his bag, and didn’t quite run for the front door.
He took a minute to compose himself before going in, but he still had the typical reaction when he entered. She’d lived in the house for years, worked there longer, and her scent permeated the air. She was leaning against Anthony’s office door, half in, and half out of the room. Form-fitting jeans and a white, tight, long-sleeved T-shirt that called attention to her full breasts and long, red hair showcased her tall, thin frame. He experienced the accustomed euphoria at seeing her. His mate.
She swung around, as if she felt his regard, and his gaze met green eyes almost the exact same shade as his. Her eyes were red-rimmed with dark circles under them. He knew she’d probably been crying because of him. The wolf in him snarled, threatening to rise to the surface. He ruthlessly forced it down. The man felt the heavy burden of guilt and was more determined than ever not to claim her. Fighting not to walk forward and take her into his arms, give her exactly what she wanted, he spoke to her from just inside the door.
“You look—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” she said sharply, holding her hand up as if to ward off the blow of his words.
What the hell did she think he was going to say? He couldn’t sort it out yet, had to get his head back on straight. Nodding, he went upstairs, following her scent down the hall and stopping in front of the door where it was most concentrated. He entered, dropped his bag on the dresser, and looked around, noting her bag and laptop on the desk. He knew he shouldn’t be there, was fighting the instincts clamoring to move in with her, when she followed him in. He’d known she would and didn’t know why he’d been crazy enough to come in.
Determined to exit and save her from a mate that didn’t deserve her, he took a step forward, and she shut the door. Leaned back against it. She looked at his bag, then cocked her head to one side and met his gaze. He nearly groaned at the hope he saw in her eyes. She thought he was finally giving in.
Guilt nearly overwhelmed him, yet he still struggled against the urge to claim her and damn the consequences. His wolf nature fought for dominance, and he knew she must be able to see that in his eyes because, as he approached her, she seemed to shrink back a little. There was the barest hint of fear in the air, and the wolf wanted to bare its teeth. She would not be afraid of him. He wouldn’t allow it.
He set his palms flat against the door on either side of her head and leaned in, giving in to the craving that got harder to resist every time he saw her. He bent his face to the hollow between her neck and collar, the place he wanted to bite, to mark as his so everyone who saw her would know who she belonged to.
When he breathed deeply, dragging her scent into his lungs, the wolf caged in his mind crouched, sensing victory. His incisors erupted from his gums, sharp points that would break her skin, and he took a shuddering breath, forcing them to retreat. No. He wouldn’t do that to her. Give her no choice without knowing everything she was getting, forcing her into a relationship she wasn’t prepared for.
He appeased the wolf with a different kind of taste, licking the sweet skin he longed to bite, then kissing a trail of kisses up her neck. Across her jaw. To her lips. He stopped when he realized he was grinding his erection against her belly. Fought himself, his wolf, from claiming what was his.
“Don’t stop, Clint.” Her eyes were pleading, liquid pools. “Just once, love me the way a mate should be loved. I know you don’t feel the same way I do, but can’t you just pretend for one night?”
Shock ripped through him. Not love her? Was the woman insane? He stayed away, killing himself in little pieces, strangling his need, because he loved her so much. There was only one way to respond. He didn’t try to convince her she was wrong with words. That would really only make her more determined to fight him. Instead, he kissed her, trying to pour every ounce of the engulfing emotion he felt into it.
He tried to stay in command, but it was a lost cause. He’d waited years to kiss her, years to taste her. His tongue plunged into her mouth, and she responded with a groan, opening for him, touching her tongue to his. Her hands slid up under his sweater, leaving streaks of fire in their wake. She would try to give as much as she received, but he couldn’t allow that. To be touched by her, loved by her, would shatter what little bit of restraint he had left.
He took her hands off his chest, pushed them to her sides, and immediately felt th
e loss of her heat. Sliding his hands around the back of her thighs, he slid her up the wall, never breaking the kiss, until his cock ground against her pelvis, blocked by clothes to the one place he longed most to go. She rocked against him, and he could feel how hot she was. Her arousal was an intoxicating scent in the air.
He felt the pricking in his gums and almost pulled away, not sure if he could control the wolf. Before he could force himself to let her go, she moved her hands under his shirt again. This time she wrapped her arms around his back. She stroked him, scratched him. Between breathy little moans that were about to drive him crazy, she tilted her head back and murmured against his lips, “Clothes. Get them off.”
Breaking the kiss and keeping his hips pressed against hers so she wouldn’t fall, he lifted his arms over his head and let her pull off the sweater. As soon as it dropped to the floor, she touched him. Her tongue flicked over one of his nipples, then the other, while her hands trailed over his torso. He wanted to touch her too.
“This isn’t working,” he said gruffly and released her.
She looked at him with lust-filled, disbelieving eyes. “You’re not stopping.”
“Just for a minute, baby.” No way in hell was he stopping. He should, but even he didn’t have that kind of control. Moving to the bed, he sat on its edge and bent down, quickly unlacing his boots then removing the rest of his clothes.
She didn’t move a muscle. Leaning back against the door, she watched as if mesmerized. Her breathing was heavy and made her breasts rise and fall in a tantalizing way. Completely naked, he crooked a finger, motioning her to come to him. She had to come to him of her own free will, no coercion, which was a stupid demand on his part and he knew it. Both of them were in the grip of the hormonal lust that existed between mates, despite the fact the bond was uncompleted.
*
Straightening, Ellen gripped the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up, over her head. He made a sound as if to rush her, but she resisted. She’d waited too long for this, and she took the time to look at him, to drink him in.
Lunar Mates Volume Two: Books 4-6 Page 21
