by Sky Winters
Morgan’s eyes met Drake’s squarely. Drake could not tell what Morgan was thinking.
“You do know he isn’t wrong about Magda, or Joaquin, or them wanting his territory,” Drake said.
Morgan sighed. “You know what, Drake? You been away too long. We ride, and you ride with us today and tonight. Then you talk to me about that question you just asked.”
CHAPTER 9:
Angelina parked her car away from the usual entrance into the park. The lot was on the cliff’s side where the most serious hikers went so the lot was higher up, and it was far less visible. It was also deserted.
At least I only took a few things into his house and hiding the car was brilliant, and now—bonus—I have all my stuff with me.
Even the guitar, which was now in the case Pete had given her a few nights ago, when he had realized that she didn’t have one for the instrument.
She had a tent, a bunch of food and water, and other supplies. She needed time, and she needed to think. The car was not likely to get her caught. Even if someone scented her out at Drake’s, they were highly unlikely to be able to follow the scent of her car, unless they just happened to come to the trails in the sprawling and vast park.
The trails were steep, and she was tired. The equipment was heavy, and she had to make two trips to get it all where she wanted it.
She’d tossed her phone out earlier. Joaquin was no dummy, and why he had not already tracked the phone was anyone’s guess, but she knew if he had not thought of it yet, he would soon.
She had a new burner phone and the only number in it was Drake’s. The campsite she had picked out was off the beaten track, it was high on a small mesa, and she could see the city from there. Tears ran down her face as she gazed down at the teeming metropolis below.
How can I miss him so much when I barely know him? How can I want his so much when he is a bear and I am a wolf? How can I be so heartbroken over him when I didn’t even know that I love him?
I love him.
Oh.
My.
God.
She did love him. There was no rhyme or reason to it, but she loved him. She loved the way he rode that bike and the way he played guitar. She loved the way he was capable of putting all his emotions into a song and those same emotions from her when she sang those songs that he wrote.
She loved him.
Hoping to ease her heart, Angelina stood and began to walk, looking for Mario.
**
She didn’t find Mario that night or the next day. She sat at her little camp, drinking a bottle of water and staring at her cell phone. The sun was high, so she was in the tent, hoping to avoid the worst of the heat and the scorpions running around on the washed-out trails.
Where was Drake? Was he okay? Had he been found out? Had he forgotten all about her?
A low whine caught her ear and she listened, a smile lifting her mouth and her mood as she recognized Mario’s tone and smell.
She climbed out of the tent and stood, looking down at Mario. “Hey, you. How’s your mate?”
He lifted his head, and she followed the thrust of his snout. The she-wolf was nearby. She was standing fully on her foot, so she was healing. Mario barked once, and the she-wolf turned, heading down the steep ravine, obviously on the hunt for food.
Angelina said, “I got some food if you want it.”
Mario looked away, a clear no. Even through the heavy hiking shoes the heat of the ground was apparent. Angelina shifted her weight. “I’m scared, Mario.”
His eyes came back to hers and before she could stop herself, she poured out the whole story, of Drake and the band and how much she loved it and him, how she wanted to be his mate even though he was a bear and how lonely she was without him. How impossible it all seemed, and how frightened she was that Joaquin would run unchecked if she did not do something and soon, but how afraid she felt at the thought of standing against him.
Angelina collapsed into the small camp chair, staring at the remnants of the fire. “I don’t know what to do.”
Mario whined. She looked over at him, her mouth opening to speak. Instead, her jaw hung loose and slack and her eyes widened until her eyes were in real danger of bulging right out of her face.
“You…” she said, her voice choked and strangled. “You… you can shift.”
Mario grabbed a bush and held it in front of his crotch. Her eyes fastened on his face. He was handsome, swarthy and sharp-featured. Tall and broad, too. “Why? I mean how? I… what the literal fuck?”
“I chose.” His words were slurry and badly formed. It was obvious talking was not easy for him. “Long time ago. I remember. You don’t. I saw him kill our mother. She was like…” He made a sound, a short little howl followed by a click in his throat. His mate’s name, she realized.
Angelina grabbed the first thought that came into her head. “We knew Mom was wild and he had to escape the zoo. He couldn’t take her with him—and if he had, she wouldn’t have survived out here. She couldn’t shift.”
“Killed her.”
He’s confused. Or he doesn’t know what words he’s using. “No. Mario, that’s not the right word.”
“Yes.” He nodded. “I know. I saw. He wanted pups, not her.”
No. He had to be wrong! “Mario…”
“Saw it. Knew he did it because of us. Shifters.”
No. No Dad would never… Her throat went tight. “Mario, why don’t you shift? I mean, why… why choose…”
“Better for me. Like better. I’m wolf. Not human.”
He was human. Tears sent crystallized rainbows dancing into the field of her vision.
“You want bear, choose. You want no… Joaquin’s…” Mario’s brow wrinkled. “Nobody cares what they say when I’m near. They don’t think I understand. I hear, and understand. Sam’s with the muties. He’s going to try to take the pack from Joaquin with muties. Joaquin’s with bears and…”
“Stop. Wait. What? Muties?”
“I go now. Have to. She’s mine, abut only wolf mine,” Mario said.
Angelina heard a rattle of rock nearby. The she-wolf Mario had mated to was returning.
“Mario, are you sure about Sam?”
“If you had kids, he would kill them for Alpha spot. Says muties make him Alpha.”
Your pack. Not ours. “Sam’s betraying Joaquin?”
“Joaquin wants war. Says it will end tigers and bears but not wolves. Says many muties die. Then easier to take over. But Sam’s playing both sides. He’s weak, weaker even than Joaquin. Wanted to be Alpha. Sam said Dad made sure he’d never be. Pissed off.” He touched her shoulder lightly. “Goodbye. Don’t come here again. Too dangerous. The mate wants… not like us. Not… she sees food and weakness now when you come.”
The she-wolf wants to kill and eat me! And after I saved her paw too, the ungrateful bitch!
She whispered, “Don’t go.”
“I did already. I chose. You choose. Be… you.”
Then he shifted and raced away from the campsite. Angelina heard the yips of greeting between him and his mate. She collapsed, putting her head in her hands. What was happening? Mario could shift?
Could—and chose not to.
Because he didn’t want that life. He wanted a different life. He wanted a wild life, one he got to live the way he chose. He’d always been prone to vanishing and skulking through the neighborhood and she knew now that what he had really been doing, for years, was searching for a place he could be—and for a mate that would accept him.
The she-wolf obviously knew he was different. What was more, she was older, past the age of bearing litters. So, he would not have to worry about that, and she was an exile, too, for her strangely colored coat and her smaller size. They were both outsiders who had made something special.
Like what she could have with Drake, if she just decided to.
Chose to.
Angelina stood and reached for her phone again, her fingers hitting the screen.
&nbs
p; CHAPTER 10:
Where is she? Drake stopped on the trail. Sweat ran down his face in rivulets and he checked the time on his phone, groaning when he saw that the signal was gone again.
He’d thought she would come up here but maybe he had been wrong, or he was in the wrong spot.
Or maybe she’s gone, totally. Maybe she ran to New York or somewhere else, somewhere she can sing and just live and be free.
A hawk soared overhead, its distinctive cry drawing his attention. The few days of freedom that they’d had, the too few days and nights of music and love, had reinforced his knowledge that he wanted more than just to be left out of the politics of the pack; he wanted a life beyond the pack.
But there was the rub. Being with Angelina meant he would have to get involved with those politics. Being with her meant defending her and not just from Joaquin, but from both their kinds. Morgan didn’t seem to care one way or another—but Magda would and unfortunately Morgan had yet to find his real footing.
He’s going to have to kill her one day. Or I am going to have to, just to set him free of her influence. The hell of it is that Morgan’s not a coward—he just can’t seem to shake her off. Magda’s always been good at making people feel like she is frail and afraid and then using their wanting to protect her against them.
He headed back the way he had come, his mind still wrestling with all the information. If he wanted to be with Angelina, and he did, then he was going to have to figure out a way to do it. That might mean leaving LA, striking out for a place where they weren’t known.
But anywhere they went, shifters would know them, and know they were unalike. Anywhere they went, they would have to fight to survive. There were plenty of places in LA not held by the shifters but many of them were held by other kinds: vamps and fey and so on. There was only one territory where no others were—and that was Beverly Hills, which had too many wards and other shit in place for a shifter to go unnoticed.
A scorpion scuttled over one of his boots. Drake shook it off, sending it flying off into the shifting sand. Goddammit! Where was Angelina and how long was he going to keep going around and around on these damn trails in the hopes of finding her?
He’d spent the last few days and nights taking care of business with his club. That meant running drugs and overseeing a few shipments headed out to East LA and to Joaquin, who was as angry as Patel had claimed, and still insisting that it was a mutie he had scented that day.
Magda had championed a war with the muties, much to Morgan’s dismay. Drake wanted to believe that Morgan would stand against slaughter but he also knew that if Morgan did he would be fighting off not just Magda and the humans at her beck and call but his own pack—and Joaquin’s.
I can’t do that to him.
No, he couldn’t. He also couldn’t stand the idea of Angelina going back to Joaquin. Or being without her.
He should leave it alone. On her own, she stood a chance.
She could get somewhere she could blend in and not be noticed. He knew there were smaller cities, like Austin, with crazy good music scenes. Angelina belonged somewhere like that, in a place where she could have a life that was solely hers and nobody else’s. If she went alone, a lone shifter with no allegiances and posing no threat, she’d be accepted if not tolerated.
His phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number, and he was tempted to ignore it. He decided at the last minute to answer and as soon as he did, his heart swelled with both joy and worry.
“Drake?” Angelina said softly.
“I’m here.” He stopped and stood there, his eyes closing and his heart filling. “No matter what, I’m here.”
CHAPTER 11:
Drake ditched the bike in a parking garage on the fringes of Hollywood. Angelina parked in a space not far from his and they stood there, looking at each other. Her face was wan and pale, and dirty, too. He had hugged her earlier but he did again. Her whole body shook as she leaned into him and whispered, “Drake, I’m scared.”
“I know.” Me, too. I’m scared I’m going to get you killed. “We have to move and fast. There’s muties around, and… and we need to avoid them as long as possible.”
“Why?”
He didn’t want to tell her just yet. She was shocked and scared and at the end of her strength, too. Being alone in the mountains had hit her hard, and he had a feeling there was more to it than even that.
“I just don’t want anyone who might think to tell Joaquin where you are to spot us.” He gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile and took her hand. The only thing she took out of the car was the guitar, which he carried, and a small bag of clothes.
She tucked the keys into her pocket and they set off, walking down the sidewalk hastily. There was a sprawling motel not far and Drake said, “That’s where we are headed. It’s not fancy, but I think it might be clean. No promises, though.”
She chuckled. “I don’t really care right now. I just want some food, a shower and a bed.”
He wanted a bed, too, with her in it. His steps quickened, and they stepped into a musty and faded lobby where he paid cash and didn’t have to tender an ID, a good thing, but not a good sign.
The room was equally musty. The curtains had moth holes and the comforter and carpet smelled like stale cigarette smoke. The bathroom was reasonably clean however and as much as he wanted to join her in there, Drake had a feeling Angelina needed a minute alone. He called for pizza and sat down on the bed, his teeth worrying his bottom lip.
He’d left his phone on his bike, in a saddlebag. Safer that way. It also cut him off from any communication with anyone who might be able to help them.
Not that he had any idea of who might be willing to aid him in running away with a wolf shifter, and one promised to the Alpha of the pack.
Angelina came out of the bathroom and all of his thoughts vanished like dust. She held a towel, thin and threadbare, up over her breasts, but it did nothing to hide her lush and gorgeous body.
Her thick black hair hung in a wet sheet. Little beads of water ran off the strands, forming little wet trails that slid down the pert slope of her breasts and fired up his lust to an unimaginable height.
“Come here,” he said, and she came, dropping the towel as she did so. The sight of her tits, with the nipples already hardened and thrusting upward, the gleam of her skin, and the smile on her face as she sauntered into the bed, nearly did him in.
He undressed so fast he nearly tore his shirt and then he moved on top of her. His hands roamed her body and his tongue followed. He needed her too much to be slow or subtle. It had taken a toll on him, being separated from her, and he wanted her so badly he could scarcely breathe.
Her skin was smooth and tight, and he let his mouth find the flesh between her legs, his tongue going into her body to taste the fluids gathered there at the entrance to her snug sheath. Her fingers grabbed at his hair, and he let her hold on as he licked her clit, not bothering to go slow, driving her to an orgasm as fast as he could, because he knew the minute he started to fuck her he was going to erupt. His cock, swollen and throbbing, was ready and he wanted to be inside her tight depths more than he had ever wanted anything in his entire life.
Salty-sweet fluids spilled over his tongue, coated his chin. Drake moved upward and entered her all in one long smooth motion. His ass clenched as he plunged into her and withdrew, too eager to wait. The feel of her pussy pulsing around him as she rode the aftershocks of her orgasm was a pleasurable thing all in itself and he stayed inside her for a moment, grinding his hips hard before pulling out and entering her again.
Her legs wrapped around his waist, holding him there as his hips jerked and bucked and his breath got faster and faster still. His cock pounded, and he could feel his balls tightening and creeping upward as he got closer to coming.
His eyes closed. Her body writhed under his. His cock filled her wet and slippery passage and he withdrew, knowing that the next thrust would be the last one, the one that would send him over t
he edge.
It was. He came so hard his body shuddered and jerked. His hands gripped her shoulders tightly and she whimpered, a quick exclamation of pain that made him loosen that hold as his seed, thick and hot, poured out of his cock and splashed into her walls.
Angelina murmured, “Did you hear something?”
He did then. A tap on the door. He groaned out, “I think it’s the pizza. Fuck it. I’m staying right here.”
Angelina rolled him off her body and said, “Uh uh. Go get the food!”
CHAPTER 12:
Still glowing from the lovemaking, Angelina reclined on the pillows, a slice of sausage and mushroom pizza in one hand. The gooey melted cheese and thick crust was delicious, much better than the rough meals she had been making do with.
Drake was also eating, but in between bites, he was strumming chords on her guitar and singing snatches of songs to her.
Angelina finished her slice and asked, “Drake, what happens next?”
He set the guitar down. His eyes were troubled. “I don’t know. Honestly, I should let you go. I mean, you deserve a chance to be the great singer you are, but if you stay with me…”
He let the sentence dwindle off. He didn’t have to say the rest.
“I made up my mind, up there in the hills. I want you, Drake, and well…” She paused. “You know shifters have babies faster?”
He nodded. “Yeah, biologically speaking, sure. Why?”
“Because we’re having one.”
His mouth dropped open. “What?”
Well, at least he didn’t run as soon as the words were out. “I’m pregnant.”
Drake dropped the pizza. It hit the sheets, leaving a stain. Not that she figured that would matter that much. The sheets were pretty dingy anyway.
“You… you… I thought two different species… I… you see, I couldn’t… You know, that is why I was not named Alpha.”
“I know. I don’t know what happened.” Oh no. Was he doubting he was the father? It was possible. How could she blame him if he did? They were different and there had never been a child born of two species of shifter, as far as she knew. It was supposed to be genetically impossible and he had been denied the Alpha spot for his inability to produce kids.
