Her Wanted Wolf

by Renee Michaels

  “Yes, I do believe I am.” She levered herself up with her elbows, and for the first time she put her mouth on his neck.

  Drew quaked under her intimate caress. A primitive growl resonated up from deep in his chest, and he pressed the taut tendons against her open mouth.

  Sabine licked the salty skin and nipped him.

  Ripping his neck away, Drew rolled her under him.

  Sabine really had no idea what she did to him. They’d taken the were mating-vow, discarded the extraneous necessity for a courtship. She was his mate. He wanted her on every level.

  The visceral urge to sink his teeth into the side of her neck and place his mark on her was becoming an obsession. She’d opened a door for him he’d thought was closed forever, and maybe she was his second chance, his road to redemption.

  He wondered if she realized how much of herself she gave when they made love. Sabine’s innocent caresses inflamed him, made ever more poignant because of the war he knew that was going on inside her. It was a hell of a thing to want a woman this much when you knew it was always in the back of her mind to leave.

  More and more the wolf in him railed at the thought of separation. It bathed her in his spoor every chance he got. It was instinctive. Shit, the human side wasn’t taking it sitting down either. He was doing his damnedest to bind her to him too. She would thrive as his mate, his pack needed her leadership, and he’d seen the yearning in her eyes when she had Ava in her arms.

  The time would come when she would have to choose between him and the duty she assumed on her family’s behalf, but not yet, and certainly not now.

  Drew brushed her hair back from her face. She looked like a moonbeam, with her pale hair spread out around her, and her skin dappled by the pearly light flickering through the canopy of pine needles above them.

  “You’ve marked me as yours.” He almost preened at the idea, Sabine Lunedare’s marked mate.

  “That wouldn’t be recognized as binding. A she-wolf does not brand her mate.”

  He ran his fingertips over the spot her mouth had dampened and then trailed a finger over her lips. “Maybe we’ll start a new tradition, and you’ll refer to me as your marked mate. I think I like it.”

  Sabine snorted. “You alphas would never relinquish the right to she-wolves.”

  “It has nothing to do with an alpha’s prerogative, Sabine. You put your mouth on my neck. I am yours and you are mine in ways you won’t acknowledge to yourself. There’ll be no mistaking whom we belong to.”

  “But…”

  “Shhh.” He cut off her words by claiming her lips. She tasted of apples and cream, tangy wine mingling with both.

  She parted her lips and Drew deepened the kiss. Drawing her tongue into his mouth, he suckled greedily on it. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. Her night-cooled skin was a balm to his overheated senses.

  Loving Sabine ought to be savored, like a good hunt.

  Yet the were in him fought to put her on all fours, hike up her hips, and with their combined juices flowing from her pretty pussy, bury his muzzle in her crotch. He’d lap up the glistening ichor from her pale thighs and cleft until he sated his appetite for the taste of her.

  “Smell me, Sabine. Smell how much I want you.”

  “Then take me again, Drew. Have me here, with the wind against our skin, the ground beneath my back, for we are creatures of nature.” She opened her arms and he lowered his body on hers. And Drew knew that it was where he wanted to be, where he belonged. In Sabine’s arms.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Sabine rolled over on the moss and pine pallet, missing the heat of Drew’s body. The night before he’d hauled her on top of his body, tucked her head into the crook of his neck, and promptly fell asleep. That was, after he’d showed her that their private bits and pieces fit together in a variety of various ways.

  She drew in a deep breath, his spoor markings assured her he wasn’t far away, but the abstraction in his scent surprised her.

  Sitting up, she saw him standing on the far end of the cliff. The bright morning sun bathed his long frame in pure, unfiltered light, delineating his honed musculature and the width of his shoulders. With a background of the pale blue sky behind him, he seemed suspended in mid air. Sabine’s heart did a jerky skip in her chest. The man had no fear of heights, consideration for his safety, or her peace of mind.

  Rising, Sabine walked over to join him and he turned to face her. The brooding expression was back on his face. He’d seemed more at peace of late. She’d begun to hope she’d alleviated some of his grief, but it seemed she was wrong.

  Would she ever be on a sure footing with him?

  Stopping a few feet in front of the slippery cliff, she asked softly, “Has something happened?”

  Drew shook his head. “No new crises to report, thank God.”

  “Still worried about sending the women out on their own?”

  He shrugged. “Yep, I always worry, but I won’t change my mind about allowing them to go down into the city. Besides, I couldn’t tell them they can’t visit the city now. Hanni would rip a chunk out of my hide.”

  Sabine bit her lip. She couldn’t believe she’d been bold enough to stand before the multitude of Lunedares and voice her opinion. “Maybe I shouldn’t have interfered last night.”

  “You didn’t. It was your right and duty as my mate to speak up. You’re right. I’ve allowed my fears to cripple me.” Drew turned and looked down into the valley below. “I’ve always had a soft spot for the women in my pack. Many of them stepped up to fill the void left by my mother’s death. I had more mothering than any cub I knew. The multiple dinners and endless supply of cookies were a sweet side benefit.” He flashed her a boyish grin. “My father said I should always cherish them, and that was one edict I found easy to keep because of my mother. Everybody loved Sophie. She practically civilized my father with her proper English manner. She tried to do the same with her son, but she didn’t get enough time to finish the job.”

  “You never said how you lost them.”

  “They traveled to Europe during the Second World War to bring over some dispossessed weres, but a U-boat torpedoed their ship. Losing my parents was hard, but with Gustav’s care, Aimee and I pulled through. I mated with Christa because I’d loved her since I was a boy and wanted to recreate the family I lost.” A smile rife with memories softened Drew’s mouth. A painful pang settled in the center of Sabine’s chest.

  “I gave her the bike that she tore down the mountain on, breaking her neck.” He drew in a ragged breath. “Christa took chances, but I never cautioned her, not once. I encouraged her, feeding off the adrenaline rush as much as she did. Her death and Aimee’s kidnapping compounded the feeling I didn’t protect my women. I’d failed them, failed my parents.”

  “Would your family lay such a burden on your shoulders? If they were any kind of weres, they’d want you to live your life to the fullest. I believe your parents would be proud of you. From what I’ve observed, the Lunedares have thrived, so you’ve succeeded brilliantly as the pack’s alpha.” She paused to gather her thoughts. “We are weres, Drew. The packs might have donned the garb of civilization, the players and the methods may be more sophisticated but, under the surface, our werekin characteristics haven’t changed. We still live for the rush of a hunt. The struggles are still the same for territory and dominance in the hierarchy. She-wolves have been taken throughout our history, as hostages or for forced matings. Your sister was taken and you’ve set in motion a plan to retrieve her, as a conscientious alpha would. What are your instructions, my mate and my alpha?”

  He grinned at Sabine. To her relief his smile was free of any lingering despair. The smug smirk and the gleefully diabolical gleam in his eyes had her more than a little wary.

  What was he up to this time? The man’s moods were mercurial. She had to be on her toes to keep up with them.

  “Finally acknowledging that I’m your alpha, and the fact that I’m your mate?�
��

  Sabine snorted scornfully. “Don’t let my show of respect go to your head. I’m just being dutiful. You need the comfort of the truth.”

  Drew crossed the short space separating them and slung his arm around her shoulders. “Speaking of duties, you know the thing I found the hardest as alpha was? Dealing with the women.”

  Sabine jabbed her elbow into his belly. “That’s a fallacy if I ever heard one. You adore those women and the affection is reciprocated, a little too much if you ask me.”

  “I have a problem denying them anything; the ban on travel to the city was a first. I even sent word down through Rafe.”

  “Coward. I never thought you’d avoid your responsibilities.” She wondered where this conversation was going.

  “It’s called delegating. The women see you as their champion now. They’ll come directly to you, and you can deal with them from now on. I must say, the benefits of our mating are getting clearer and clearer by the minute.”

  Sabine groaned. This was a good time as any to utter a few epithets. Merde came to mind. She had a feeling she’d need to expand her repertoire. If things continued the way they were, she’d need a compendium to cover every occasion. Learning to keep her mouth shut and her opinions to herself was the next thing she’d have to master.

  “Don’t get too comfortable with that thought. Remember, we agreed this was a temporary mating. It’d make no sense for me to become entrenched in the Lunedare clan.” She shrugged off his arm and started to stalk away from him. He caught up with one long lope.

  “We can amend our agreement.” He tugged at her arm and she stumbled against his chest. “Especially since our parts fit together so well.”

  A thought occurred to her. She knew so little about him. “Just how old are you?”

  “Ninety human years. I have a couple of centuries to chase you through the woods yet. I’m not going to die and leave you a frisky widow.”

  Well, for Heaven’s sake, she’d mated with a cub. “I have ten on you. You should show more respect for your elders.”

  “That’d make you a cougar.” The devilish gleam was back in his eyes.

  “A what?” Pursing her lips, she tiled his head to the side. Sabine was beginning to wonder if he baited her deliberately with terms she didn’t understand.

  He let out a snorting laugh at her. “A woman who takes a younger lover. I can be your boy toy.”

  Rolling her eyes, she pushed at his chest. “I need to check on my father, I have neglected him.” Sabine stopped in her tracks and lifted her head to read an amalgam of spoors that caught her attention.

  Drew turned his head to the thicket of trees as Rafe broke through them, followed closely by Ishbel. Sabine scented other weres waiting a short distance away.

  “What’s up, Rafe?” Drew inquired.

  “Just wanted to fine tune the orders you gave me last night.” His aggrieved gaze shifted to Ishbel who leaned against a tree with a disdainful expression on her face. Sabine swung her gaze between the two weres. Ishbel was trying to do her best to appear nonchalant under the fore-fighter’s disapproving glare, but the peppery odor of her irritation was hard to ignore. The undercurrents between Rafe and Ishbel crackled like lightning before a bad storm.

  “The Silverwolves are having a little difficulty adjusting to the new order of things. Your mate’s sister insists on consulting with her,” Rafe spat out, his lips tight with his own anger.

  Drew nodded heavily. “Been there, man. Leave it alone for now. I want each of the Silverwolves paired with a fore-fighter, as a fighting duo.”

  “I hope to hell you aren’t thinking of pairing a Silverwolf with Adrian. You might have thrown a hitch in his stride, but he’s still dangerous.”

  “You shouldn’t. He doesn’t smell right.” Sabine interjected.

  “What do you mean,” Drew asked, eyes narrowing with hard probing suspicion.

  She shrugged. “He carries Redmaven spoor, but he didn’t get it from direct contact.”

  Drew and Rafe exchanged a glance. “Shit, I don’t have the time to deal with him now. I guess we’ll keep him too busy to cause any mischief. I’m going to tap Enzi and Salvator to handle the training of the new fore-fighters. We’ll be doing mock exercises with the Silverwolf women.”

  Rafe’s mouth dropped open for a second. Then he threw back his head and laughed. When he finally got control of himself, he looked a Drew with appreciation. “You are a mean, devious son-of-a-bitch. Adrian might prefer it if you’d just put him down and be done with it. Those two Neanderthals will run him into the ground.”

  Curiosity got the better of Sabine. “Care to share the joke?”

  “Those old weres are what you might call old school. They think along the same lines as your father, without the intellectualization. Were before man, is their motto.” Drew informed her. “They think we’ve gone soft.”

  “You’re hardly what I’d call soft,” she said in his defense.

  “Yeah well, I’m a pussycat compared to those two. When you meet them, stay downwind. The use of soap and water is a cardinal sin in their opinion.”

  “I’ll try to remember that,” Sabine murmured. “Your cousin reeks of treachery, he will come at you.”

  “That’s why I’m tucking him away for now.” Drew grinned, his smile almost Machiavellian. “If you were the alpha of your pack, who would you consider the primo of your fore-fighters?”

  “Ishbel of course,” she replied without hesitation. Sabine looked up at her with pride. Her sister could hold her own in a skirmish.

  Drew fixed his attention on the silent Ishbel “What are her strengths?”

  “It’d be better if you asked me what her weaknesses were, though I can’t think of any. She has the full complement of Silverwolf gifts, she’s a skilled fighter and the best tracker in my family.”

  “You never mentioned it before.”

  She shrugged. “It didn’t come up.”

  “Then she’ll be paired with my primo, Rafe. He takes point on reconnaissance. Ishbel’s skills will complement his.” Drew ignored the harsh indrawn breaths by the pair. Sabine looked at her sister to gauge her reaction.

  Ishbel’s eyes flashed cold fire in Rafe’s direction. “Sabine, we have a slight complication with Drew’s plan.” Ishbel motioned with her head, an indication she wanted a private word with her.

  “Let me guess, Ala’s lover could have a problem with her being paired with a male were.” Drew interjected, before Sabine could respond.

  Ishbel looked to her, and she gave her a small nod. “Yes.”

  Drew shook his head. “What’s Tija like in a fight?”

  “Vicious.” Sabine and Ishbel said at the same time. They shared a grimace of commiseration, having come away aching more than once from practicing with Tija.

  Sabine added. “We usually hunt in triads. Ishbel tracks, Tija is muscle, and I mask scent. She’s ferocious and unrelenting, great to have at your back, but she has a bit of a temper.”

  “Will Ala fight? There is a gentleness about her that could handicap us in a blood battle.” Drew’s intuitive understanding of her younger sister came as a relief.

  “I wouldn’t put her on the front lines, but if you want to camouflage a good number of weres she’d manage that beautifully. They are a good team, Tija for claw and fang if needed, Ala for concealment.”

  “I have to ask,” Rafe interrupted. “How does that work exactly? I know the Redmavens won’t smell our approach, but will we be able to smell them coming? I like to know the position of my opponents. And how long will you be able to conceal our presence?”

  Sabine contemplated him for a moment. She’d never had to put into words something that came so naturally to her. “We can mask scent in several ways. We can blanket an area to throw off the wolf or wolves chasing us so they can’t find our scent trail. Or we can form a protective cone around a place or a group of people you want to protect or hide. If you are within the circle, your senses aren’t affected.
Those beyond its perimeter will pass you by and never pick up a whiff of your spoor. It can backfire because the loss of their sense of smell alerts a were something is not quite right. How long the effects linger, that depends on wind velocity. Rain can also diffuse the pheromones we emit, but we can reinforce the barrier as needed. We can send message through our scent that only a Silverwolf can read.”

  “Amazing,” Rafe murmured. “Your plan will work if everybody acknowledges the chain of command.” His eyes shifted to Ishbel who opened her mouth.

  Drew interjected quickly. “Pair Ala with Dex. Tija shouldn’t feel threatened by him. Put Jordan with Tija, he has a cool head. They’ll be sensitive to Tija’s qualms because they are a couple too. Work them as a quartet for now until you smooth out the kinks. The last four women should be easy to match up. We’ll go on several forays into the forest during the day to get accustomed to each other’s run patterns.” Drew instructed. “At night we’ll practice with the rest of the pack. Divide our forces into two groups. Half the pack will act as hunters. Sabine and her pack sisters will do their thing, and the rest of us will practice evading the other half of our fighting force with them. We’ll switch off until we get used to working with the Silverwolves.” Drew’s eyes met hers seeking her agreement.

  It was a good plan, and Sabine appreciated him including her in the decision-making. She nodded her acquiescence. “I’ll go confer with my pack sisters, check on Balthazar, and work out the details with the women about their new freedoms.”

  “I’m going to take a run up to the cave Enzo and Salvator have marked as their personal den. I should be back in a couple of hours.” He brushed her cheek with his knuckles, picked a twig out of her hair, and twirled it in his fingers.

  Their eyes met and his warmed, as her cheeks did remembering how she got those twigs in her hair. “Try not to start a revolution while I’m gone, will you.”

  “No revolutions, but maybe I can manage a small rebellion or two,” she shot back and moved to join her sister.

  “I’m serious, Sabine,” he called after her.