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Wolf Pack Complete Series : Mate (Silver Mountain Wolf Pack), Alpha Bait (Russian Wolf Pack One) and Wild (Russian Wolf Pack Two)

Page 48

by Zoe Perdita


  His heart slammed in his chest, and his cock was so hard it felt like it might explode at any moment. Making things difficult was the farthest thing from his mind. But Peter was a wolf – and he said something about claiming him – fucking him.

  It was just sex, right? Why should it matter?

  “I—”

  Peter leaned over him, wiping any thoughts of what the young man was going to say from his mind. Hands traversed Caleb’s muscular thighs, the wolf’s slender fingers brushing his sculpted stomach and inching closer to his hardened length with every touch. Then the man’s lips hovered over Caleb’s own, his breath brushing the young man’s skin like the wings of a butterfly.

  “If you want your release, you’ll turn over. If not, I can make you beg for it. Your choice.”

  Caleb’s entire body sizzled under the delicate threat. Make him beg, huh? He was about to do that anyway, and giving in was so much easier than resisting, especially when every nerve in his entire being ached for it – for Peter.

  “What happens after you claim me?” he managed.

  The man’s lips quirked. “You’ll be mine, boy. My mate.”

  “Mate?” Was that another wolf thing?

  The werewolf nodded, his fingers slipping down Caleb’s hips and pinching the skin. “Yes. Wolves mate for life – and you’ll be mine forever, wolf’s bait.”

  The words filled Caleb’s mind. Forever. That meant Peter wasn’t going to abandon him to this life. They’d escape somehow and explore the great big world together.

  Before he could respond, lips brushed his, and Caleb melted into Peter’s kiss. The slick, hot tongue probed inside his mouth. If the wolf didn’t get closer he was sure he’d burn up from the inside out. He gripped the man’s shoulders, still infuriatingly clothed, and pulled at the shirt. Peter’s skin was probably smooth and perfect, just like the rest of him.

  The wolf smirked and leaned back, his fangs showing, as he slipped the shirt over his head. “Take off my pants. Prove to me how hungry you really are.”

  Caleb’s fingers trembled as he fumbled with the zipper and button on Peter’s jeans. The man’s bulge popped out as he lowered the material over the wolf’s slender hips. Once he was completely nude, his eyes gleaming, Peter grasped the young man’s ankles and flipped him onto his stomach.

  Gasping, Caleb fought to catch his breath, to do something, but the hands caressing his ass made it impossible to focus on anything else.

  “Look at how fine a specimen you are – so meaty and delicious,” the man growled as he spread Caleb’s cheeks.

  The young man flinched, his mind reeling through the list of possibilities. Would Peter use lube? Fuck, he hoped so!

  “My drawer,” he said and pointed at the little bedside table.

  “Oh, are you prepared for this?” The wolf’s breath blew across his back, chilling the sweat on his skin.

  Caleb swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded. This was right. It felt right. Being with Peter felt right – or his body made him think it did.

  The werewolf grabbed the bottle from the drawer, and Caleb tried to turn and glance at the man, but a strong hand clamped on his neck and forced it into the pillow. Then lube squished out of the bottle, and a slick digit pushed inside his entrance.

  Caleb squirmed, breathing hard through his nose and trying to relax around the finger.

  “Look at you twitch for this. How badly do you want it, boy?”

  The young man bit his lip, the desire smoldered across his flesh like a plague. “A lot. Please,” he groaned, hating himself for begging.

  Peter let out a snort of laughter and slipped a second finger inside, followed by a third.

  Whimpering, Caleb gave in to the onslaught, pressing his ass into the hand that spread him wide. Then the wolf nudged something that sparked a whole new desire throughout his bones, and he groaned into his pillow. Fuck! That felt good.

  With a slick pop, Peter’s fingers slid free and his fat cock took their place, forcing its way inside. The young man gripped onto his sheets, his knees locked in position as the wolf slammed into him. Every thrust nudged that one spot – the one that brought stars to his eyes – but an ache surged through his veins all the same.

  Each entrance was a mixture of pleasure and pain, and Caleb wasn’t so sure about the pain. But it was his first time – that meant it was supposed to hurt a little bit, right? The man’s slender fingers dug into Caleb’s hips. The other hand grasped the young man’s rock hard cock and squeezed the base – a flood of need flowing to his balls at the touch.

  The slippery lube soon gave way to friction. Burning tenderness coupled with the ache in his shaft.

  He writhed and panted. His body urged Peter to stroke his length and release his own load, so Caleb could escape the torrent of sensations tumbling over him, like a drowning man fighting against the tide.

  “Do you want to come, boy?” Peter growled, in a voice that sounded more like an animal than a man.

  “Yes. Please!” Caleb gasped.

  The wolf’s hand slid over the young man’s shaft in swift caresses, his head already leaking, as the man pushed him closer to his peak.

  A final thrust, and the hot load spilled inside him, Peter groaned into his neck, teeth nipping at the tender flesh until it stung. But none of that mattered – Caleb’s release was so close – so fucking close –

  A swipe of the man’s thumb sent Caleb over the edge. The young man’s body stiffened as he spurted his seed over Peter’s hand and the sheets. He collapsed on the pillow, fighting to catch his breath and ignore the soreness in his ass, as Peter popped free. Then a hand connected with his cheek, and the hot come leaked down his thigh.

  “I think I can stay here for awhile,” the wolf said and chuckled.

  Caleb sat up slowly. His heart throbbed as he looked at his lover.

  His mate.

  His forever.

  This was right, wasn’t it?

  Chapter 9

  Wild crouched on the porch, staring at the surrounding woods as they chirped and rustled with the signs of spring. He’d been here long enough that each day was warmer than the last – unless it rained, which it frequently did. Summer would be upon them soon, complete with long hot days and cricket filled nights. But that also meant campers would transcend from the city and make temporary homes in the woods.

  And they’d be in danger of the hunter’s traps too, just like Sam said.

  If Wild wanted to prove himself to Caleb, he needed to fix the problem he helped create. No matter what the other wolf said, it was his fault the hunter descended on that mountain and valley. If he hadn’t been so weak and stupid – if he survived without the chickens – no one would’ve known of his presence.

  But he also wouldn’t have met Caleb.

  His heart twisted at the thought. Well, it was still his mess, and he had to clean it up. He’d show the white wolf he wasn’t a useless whelp – he was a man, and a wolf worthy of being Caleb’s mate.

  The man’s scent caught his attention as Caleb stepped onto the porch behind him, his feet creaking across the wooden boards. “I thought I asked you to wear clothes around the property.”

  Wild scowled at the taller man, and stood up straight. Even if Caleb tried to deny it, the white wolf’s eyes traveled down Wild’s toned body and lingered on his length, surrounded by dark curls. “I was going for a run,” the little wolf said.

  Caleb narrowed his arctic eyes into slits. “No. Not with the hunter out there. If you get caught again–”

  “It’s my fault he’s here!”

  The man ran a hand through his hair and let out a long sigh between his white teeth. “And what do you plan to do about it all on your own, Whelp? Have you ever even seen a hunter?”

  The little wolf’s cheeks flushed, and he crossed his arms. “I was going to find the traps and do something with them. It’s not like you’ve met a hunter before.”

  His eyes clouded over at the words, and Wild instantly reg
retted saying anything. “Actually, I have. I got away, but I’m not willing to bet I can do it again. And I’m not willing to let my apprentice get killed by one either. Got it?”

  The words stabbed Wild right in the heart. Why did Caleb have to feign interest only to push the little wolf away later? It was worse than if the white wolf made up his mind one way or the other.

  “It’s not your job to protect me. I’m not your mate, remember?” Wild spat.

  Caleb’s jaw tensed. “The hunter I met took down a very powerful wolf – a wolf who killed two of his own kind right before my eyes. He was no stranger to bloodshed, yet the hunter managed to kill him easily. You don’t understand what you’re up against.”

  He stared at the bigger wolf. This was the first bit of personal information Caleb had ever shared with him – the first hint at the man’s life before he’d stumbled into it. “Who was the wolf?” he ventured. “And why did he kill his own kind? That’s what rogue wolves do.”

  The man swallowed, and he closed his eyes. “It’s a long story. Oh, dammit. Look. He was the bastard who turned me into a wolf. I don’t really know what his deal was – rogue or not – he killed other wolves and didn’t really have a pack of his own. Then a hunter came and put an end to him. That’s that.”

  Looking at the strain around Caleb’s eyes, and the frown etched into his face, Wild doubted that was, indeed, that. But it was a start. It was something.

  “Sorry.”

  “For what?”

  “That the wolf who turned you into one of us was a bastard. I – a lot of our kind are, but not everyone.”

  Caleb’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh really? Does this mean you’re warming up to the Eurasian pack?”

  “Hell no! I meant me. I’m not a bastard and neither are you – most of the time.”

  The other wolf looked at him intently, his hands twitching as if he were trying to keep them occupied. “Most of the time, huh?”

  Wild squared his shoulders and jutted out his jaw. “Yeah. Most of the time. When you admit I’m your mate, you’ll be a bastard even less of the time. Now are you going to help me find the traps, or am I doing this on my own?”

  “Now you want my help?”

  The little wolf shrugged. “Only if you want to give it. I can do it on my own. I can do just about anything on my own.”

  The bigger wolf let out a sigh of resignation and nodded. “It’s safer if we’re both out there. Do you want to transform, and I’ll keep my human form?”

  Wild’s eyes trailed over Caleb’s massive shoulders, cloaked in a button up flannel, and the jeans that fit him perfectly. Too bad he didn’t want to shift into his wolf form so they could go on a run together, but that was too much to ask for. At least the white wolf was willing to help him without complaint.

  He nodded and let his body shift, fur and claws growing as he gave in to the change. Then he shook his head and perked his ears, and Caleb’s fingers trailed over his coat.

  “Let me get something, and we’ll go.”

  The big man stepped out of the house a moment later with a crossbow and a walking stick resting in his hands.

  Wild’s senses prickled as they stepped into the woods, the little wolf’s feet stepping carefully as he sniffed the air for any sign of metal. They traversed the edge of the creek. Caleb pushed aside undergrowth with a walking stick, and Wild looked for any signs of disturbance on the forest floor, such as footprints or broken ferns, that might give away the hunter’s movements.

  They found very little. Broken branches here and there, the occasional boot mark that led nowhere, and a little piece of cloth caught on a tree. The scent on the dark material was faint, but Wild was sure he could track the odor of the man if he found it again.

  The water rushed past them, babbling over rocks and through long grass that dangled into it from each bank. It seemed like the perfect kind of creek to swim in – or at least splash around. It was wide enough to need a bridge to cross and deep enough to invite one to sit in it.

  The hint of metal, sharp and unpleasant, caught Wild’s attention as they headed further down the mountain. He whined and pawed in the direction he sensed it, and Caleb thankfully understood.

  Brushing the leaves aside with the walking stick, the man found the trap and lifted it from the ground with his strong, steady hands. When he snapped it shut, the metal teeth clamped together in a loud clap, which made the hair on Wild’s back stand on end.

  His leg ached just looking at the thing. If Caleb hadn’t been there right at that moment, Wild may have died at the farmer’s hand. If not, the hunter would’ve discovered him and finished him off instead.

  Either way, the big wolf saved his life. How could Wild prove he was worthy of a mate like that? He’d find a way.

  After another hour or so, they found three more traps and disabled them. Caleb dangled them all over his arms, like dead rabbits. When they stood at the edge of the wood, looking out at the sprouting farmland dotting the distance as far as they could see, the little wolf wondered which house belonged to the valley pack.

  Then he thought of Sam, and his stomach tightened into a knot. That stupid wolf knew Caleb better than he did, but why? The white wolf didn’t say they were friends, but they acted like people who were tolerable of each other because of some shared experience. But what experience was it? He doubted the white wolf would tell him but Sam might.

  Over the next week, they went out daily in search of more traps and other signs of the hunter. If he was camping someplace, he did it far enough away from the two wolves to catch their interest. If he were a smart hunter, he’d stay in a hotel so Caleb and Wild couldn’t sneak up on him at night – at least that’s what the little wolf assumed.

  After they cleared the area around the cabin of traps, they headed down into the valley. Caleb said the Eurasians worked during the day, and if they kept to the outskirts of the fields they wouldn’t notice the intrusion into their territory.

  He seemed to be right. They never ran in to the other wolf pack while they scoured the fields for traps, but Wild’s curiosity burned with every new mile. Finally, one afternoon, while Caleb was chatting with a farmer and the little wolf hid in a small patch of trees, he caught Sam’s scent.

  It stung his nose, as astringent as alcohol, and he spotted the mid-ranked wolf climbing out of his beat-up blue car. He stood for a moment; his nose turned up into the wind, and glanced around.

  Caleb was downwind, so that meant he caught Wild’s scent. The little wolf’s hackles rose, but he held his ground. Sam was a changeling, and he was still uncomfortable in his wolf body, if the white wolf was right. He probably wouldn’t attack unprovoked.

  “Hey, omega. What the hell are you doing down here?” he asked as he stepped into the shade of the trees. The breeze rustled his auburn hair.

  Wild glared, but this was the opportunity he wanted. With one last glance in Caleb’s direction, he turned into a human and stepped out.

  Sam rolled his eyes. “You know what they’ll do if they find you here, right?”

  The little wolf scowled. “I’m not afraid of your pack. I want some answers – that’s all.”

  His eyes widened, and he shook his head as if Wild said something ridiculous. “You invade my territory and demand answers? Seems I didn’t have a lot of luck with that approach. What makes you think you will?”

  Wild stood at his full height. “I told you the truth about the hunter, now I want the truth about Caleb.”

  Sam stared at the little wolf for a long moment. A jay tweeted in the tree above their heads and another bird answered. Then Sam sighed. “Why don’t you ask him? You live with the guy.”

  “Because he won’t tell me everything. He said you were turned and went to him for help. Is that it? You guys seem like you know each other better than that. Did you want him to be your mate?” Wild growled.

  The other wolf let out a snort of laughter, though he didn’t smile. “I came to him for help? Bullshit! Oh, I guess I did
do that once, but that was after he already turned me into a wolf.”

  Wild’s heart dropped to his toes. If he moved his feet he’d drag it across the ground. “What? Why would he turn you unless he wanted you as a mate?”

  Sam crossed his arms. “Look. I hate being kept in the dark and being lied to, so I’ll tell you. It’s pretty fucked up that he didn’t tell you already, but that’s the white wolf for you. He’d been trying to change me into one of you since I was eighteen. I was wolf’s bait so he was drawn to me, and he did it to help me, or so he said. Only I got away that time. Then I stumbled upon his cabin almost a year ago, and Caleb bit me then. After I got away, I came back and joined the Lowell brother’s pack – they’re my mates, not him.”

  He’d heard stories of wolf’s bait, but they were even more rare than hunters – at least that’s what gran said. She wasn’t even sure if they really existed.

  “Did he want to mate with you?” Wild asked, his voice little more than a grumble. Every muscle in his body felt like a spring ready to pounce. Why would his mate care about wolf’s bait?

  Sam shrugged. “I don’t think so. He said he didn’t. Anything that happened between us–”

  The little wolf jumped before Sam could finish, toppling the man to the ground in a pile of leaves and dirt. Sam coughed in surprise as they skidded to a stop.

  “What happened between you?” Wild demanded.

  The other wolf swung a fist, catching Wild right in the mouth, but he ignored the ache and swung back. His knuckle connected painfully with Sam’s cheekbone, and the man cursed and struggled to push him off. But he was just a changeling – and Wild had spent his entire life fighting. He raised his fist in warning, a dribble of blood splattering Sam’s cheek.

  The other wolf stared at him with eyes as wide as the moon. “I was wolf’s bait. It didn’t mean anything. He jerked me off, that’s it.”

  The words felt like a punch in the stomach. Caleb wouldn’t give in to his mate. He wouldn’t claim Wild, although they both felt the same tremendous pull toward each other, but he’d willingly stroke a human – a human he changed – just because that human was wolf’s bait.

 

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