No. He couldn’t be.
For one, he looked nothing like Langdon. Maybe if he chopped his longish hair and styled it in the dapper fashion Langdon favored. They both had cappuccino-colored eyes but there were only so many eye colors in the world. And it wasn’t like they both moved their body with enviable confidence, like they were constantly on the prowl and the only reason their prey hadn’t been caught yet was because they hadn’t chosen to pounce.
“Oh my God” flew out of her mouth. “You’re a Covet.”
Fear and confusion mingled in his gaze, but she couldn’t take it back. Put him in a suit, trim his hair, and have him strut next to Langdon and no shifter in the world would think they weren’t related. Slacks so weren’t Waylon’s style and until the possibility had been proposed, it wasn’t an idea that would occur to anyone.
“Everything,” Waylon demanded, staring at her parents. “What do you know about my past?”
Weatherly and Shilene didn’t have to exchange a look for Waylon to know that they were communicating telepathically. A sizzling string of communication might as well shimmer between them. The hair on Waylon’s neck stood just like it had when he’d driven though Passage Lake.
The couple didn’t communicate like this often, but Waylon had always been able to tell when. How had he not noticed the actual sensation that accompanied it? Chalking it up to body language and expressions, he’d written off his intuition as good observation.
He didn’t have time to ponder more, to wonder at all the signs about his abilities he might’ve missed. Answers about where he came from were within reach, and he wasn’t sure he’d like what they were.
“It was a rumor at first,” Shilene said, crossing her arms across her chest. “That Passage Lake was afraid you’d survive and challenge Langdon for leadership.”
“Why would I do that? I’m not an alpha.” Taking the lead wasn’t in Waylon’s genetics. He saw after himself and those he loved. And the list of those he loved was short.
“You don’t have to be to make a family fear it’s possible. There was a note with you. It had a name.”
More hair twitched along his body. What were Weatherly and Shilene saying to each other?
“Edward C.” Shilene said the name like he should know who that was.
“And the C was assumed to be Covet?” Shilo said. “That’s a stretch. But it was enough to start a rumor?”
Weatherly cleared his throat. “The Covet pack wasn’t always in charge of Passage Lake. That changed around the time we found him.”
“Him” was sitting right here. “How did you know what to call me? Why not think Edward was my name?”
“You told us your name was Waylon,” Shilene answered. “It was one of the few words you spoke. You were so young, I doubted you remembered much, but you couldn’t even tell us your parents’ names.”
“What did Passage Lake say when you asked them about me?” They had to have checked with the surrounding colonies. Passage Lake was the closest and the only colony Ironhorse Falls had access to. The others were blocked by forest and lakes with no roads connecting them.
“They said you weren’t theirs.”
Shilene’s blunt answer kicked him in the gut. The whole colony had declared him not one of them? What could a child have done to have a whole family turn on him? Unwanted as a kid, unwanted as an adult.
Shilo squeezed his hand. He couldn’t look at her. The burn in his chest robbed him of breath. Two colonies had completely rejected him—if Passage Lake was even the home of his origin. A note with Edward C. wasn’t proof.
Shilo maintained a firm grip and scooted her chair closer.
Not completely unwanted. The pressure in his chest eased slightly.
He tightened his grip on her strong hand. “So back to Edward C.”
“The name traveled the colony, but no one knew an Edward C. One day, Wolf showed up on our doorstep, but he never claimed to know Edward C., only that he’d take you in.”
And they’d just handed a toddler over to a stranger no one in town knew? Unbelievable. And fortunate. He’d thrived with Uncle Wolf.
“A Covet? Seriously?” Waylon wasn’t able to wrap his mind around the extrapolation. A child no one claimed was related to their arch nemesis.
“Just a rumor that strengthened once you started to get older. The Covets took charge and we interacted with them more often. The resemblance…”
What resemblance? He looked nothing like that arrogant ass. When was the last time he’d worn a suit?
That would be never.
“I see it now,” Shilo said.
“What?” No. He was not a Covet. “People can look alike and not be related.”
“It’s more than looking like him,” she said. “It’s moving like him. It’s brooding like him, only he’s so arrogant and you’re so…angry.” Shilo turned to her mother. “The picture. Do you have a photo of Langdon’s parents?”
“No, but I’ve met them. Long before Langdon was born, we were friendly with all the pack leaders in Covet. Why?”
Waylon pulled out his wallet. The picture hadn’t left him since he’d unearthed it. Sliding it across the table, he wanted to withdraw it. Was he the baby in the picture?
Shilene accepted the photo and she and Weatherly studied it.
The buzz of their mind speak charged across Waylon’s body. As the expressions on the Ironhorses’ faces grew graver and their mind speak went on longer, Waylon reached out.
What do you think they know?
Shilo’s hand twitched over his like the interaction had come as a surprise. I don’t know, but I think what they have to say will be enlightening. She switched to regular talk. “They’re familiar then?”
“He is.” Weatherly snapped the pic from Shilene and shoved it across the table. “He looks like Langdon’s father.”
Brothers? Waylon slid the photo toward himself and peered at it. The male did indeed resemble the Covet leader. But why would Uncle Wolf keep this? The people in this picture had meant something to him. Based on their age, and the long life of Uncle Wolf, one of these people had to be Uncle Wolf’s kin. Kid? Grandkid? Maybe he’d told Waylon to call him Uncle for a reason. But everyone had called him Uncle.
“But is it Langdon’s father?” Shilo asked. “Is this baby Langdon? Or is it Waylon?”
Waylon stuffed the photo back into his wallet, creasing the edge. “Too many damn questions. I need to find the people who know.”
Instantly, Weatherly and Shilene’s hostility skyrocketed. “You don’t need to do anything. You’ve done enough. No one will be investigating this mystery until we’ve negotiated with the Covets.”
Waylon threw his head back and laughed. “I’m not part of your pack. I’m not even part of your colony, as so many of you have pointed out during my lifetime. Uncle Wolf is dead, I don’t answer to you, and this is my life.”
Weatherly’s face flushed a vibrant red. “We don’t need to tolerate you within our perimeter. You’re not mating my daughter. You need to leave. Today.”
Waylon was going to say something like it wasn’t Weatherly’s decision, it was Shilo’s, but she could stand up for herself.
He waited for her to.
Her hand was limp over his. He chanced a glance, anxiety bubbling in his gut at what emotion he’d find in her eyes. Resolve? Righteous anger? Or the one he feared most: Abandonment?
Chapter 15
Shilo had a decision to make.
Her colony was in danger. Her future was at risk. And her mate had been told to leave.
Mother spoke to Waylon. “We’ll have someone escort you through Passage Lake and watch you to ensure that you don’t interfere in colony business. If we catch you so much as saying ‘hi’ to someone from Passage Lake, or to someone who knows someone from Passage Lake, we’ll take action. You know what this means to our colony and you’d be threatening our peace. Your own pack leader couldn’t argue our decision.”
Maybe it was her lack of a mating bond to s
tabilize her volatility. Maybe it was the dark future she saw for herself if Waylon left. Or maybe she was just sick of others dictating her life. Her purpose was this colony and she’d lost Waylon to it once already. A mate was the most important part of a shifter’s life. Mating and loyalty. Shilo’s loyalty had been misplaced the first time around. If her purpose couldn’t support her mate, then her loyalty needed to change.
“No need. Waylon and I will leave.” The shock in Waylon’s eyes was heartbreaking. He hadn’t thought she’d stay by his side, even if he had to leave Ironhorse.
“You can’t go,” Father sputtered.
She rose, dragging Waylon up with her. “You said I couldn’t take over for you if I mated Waylon. I’m mating Waylon, so I’ll leave.”
Waylon’s startled gaze jumped to her.
Mother rose, her eyes wild. This move was the last she’d expected out of her daughter. For the first time in a long time, Shilo’s own pride swelled. “Shilo—”
She cut a hand through the air. “No. My decision is made. If I leave, Langdon will no longer have a hold on this place.”
“Except to target the next successor we choose,” Father said.
“Then you’ll have to fight him,” she said gravely. “He won’t stop. Is that clear now? You were willing to sell me to keep us from fighting. I won’t stay with people willing to do that.”
Tightening her grip on Waylon’s hand, she towed him out of the room.
Where are we going? When Waylon’s voice was in her head, all her nerves short-circuited. She had a hard time thinking and not stripping down and demanding to be claimed.
Uncle Wolf’s cabin was within the colony perimeter. It wasn’t an option. “Your place in West Creek.” Then I think we need to hack Covet’s records and find out who you are.
With what computer genius?
Don’t you have connections?
I…maybe.
“Get your backpack. I need to grab some things.” She ran upstairs and found her suitcase. Tossing in items that were within reach, she hoped there was enough for a few outfit changes. She’d gone without before, though not because she’d been cut off from all funds.
And family.
Stalling over her suitcase with a fistful of underwear, she blinked back a sudden rush of tears. She’d been packing for a good few minutes and her parents hadn’t rushed after her. They either thought her words were empty or they were plotting a way to stop her.
There was still no sign of them as she went to her craft room.
Waylon found her. “What do you need packed?”
She was leaving home for the first time, practically running away like she was sixteen and pissed that she couldn’t date who she wanted, yet he didn’t berate her for her need to gather her supplies.
Yanking out a few totes she used to transport her products, she shoved beads and folded material inside. She hadn’t made it far on Olga’s dress, but dammit, she needed to finish it. The importance of the craft dogged her. Olga needed this dress.
Waylon took the totes from her, his own backpack slung over his shoulder. Down the stairs to his Jeep, there was no sign of Mother or Father.
Tiny spikes of tears on the backs of her eyes burned, but she would not cry. She set her suitcase by the hatch of the Jeep and went around to the passenger door. No one rushed out to stop her.
Child or adult, it hurt to feel like her own parents didn’t want her.
She was about to open the door but stopped, her hand clasping the handle. Was this only a minute fraction of what Waylon had felt his entire life? As a child alone in the woods, as a boy foisted onto a stranger without question, to the adult who’d had to witness his own mate put him off.
I’m so sorry. Tears streaked down her cheeks.
The hatch slammed shut and he rounded the back. Rushing to her side, he reached for her and folded her into his warm, strong embrace. “About what?” His words were muffled in her hair.
She looked at her home. The place she’d grown up in and had lived her whole life. No faces peered out the windows; no doors got flung open as frantic parents rushed out.
Waylon followed her gaze, his forehead crinkled.
“They don’t care,” she whispered.
“They care. Their priorities are shit, but they care. Otherwise, they’d never let you leave with me.” He opened the door. She was so numb he had to help her in like a rag doll.
“I shouldn’t be in a place where they let me do anything.” She should’ve grown up a long time ago.
“Look.” He buckled her in, then leaned in with an arm propped on the open door. “I’m guessing it’s a family thing. If there’s one thing I learned about being a bartender, it’s that family issues are universal despite the species. My customers are adults, but they come in bitching about pushy parents, neglectful parents, parents they can never please. And yes, some of them still live with their parents. You’re just setting hard limits.”
Only Waylon could’ve made her feel better about this moment. “Take me home, Waylon.”
Passage Lake was in five miles. Shilo peered at the scenery. Even though she was committed to leaving and moving into that warehouse thing with Waylon, she hoped she’d be back. This place was in her blood. It was her home. Had been her home.
Her home was with Waylon now.
“Stop up there.” She pointed to a spot where the ditch wasn’t steep and the trees weren’t thick. A worn portion of the ground jutted off the main road like this was a common meeting point for shifters out running their wolves—or more likely on watchdog duty. Each time she passed it, she’d pondered different reasons for it, but today, she had one use in mind.
“Stop?” Waylon let off the gas. “Is something wrong?”
“No. I want you to claim me on Covet land.”
He stomped on the brake. She slammed forward, the belt catching her. Smoothing her hair out of her face after her head whipped back, she pushed down her nerves. Would he do it?
She’d have to show him why he should do it. “Then I want to drive through Passage Lake with your scent all over me and the windows down.”
He didn’t shut the engine off. “Won’t that hurt your parents’ strategy planning or whatever?”
“Yes. Langdon’s going to find out soon enough and I’m more afraid that if he thinks I’m leaving Ironhorse Falls with you”—which she was—“that he’ll try to stop us. What if he blackmails me or somehow forces me to mate him to get Ironhorse Falls? If I’m already claimed, his whole colony will know I wasn’t compliant. It’ll tarnish his ‘but I want the best for you’ image.”
Waylon didn’t answer at first. If he rejected her again, she…deserved it. They’d had several years together, and she’d never asked for his mark despite knowing he’d wanted to officially claim her.
“You really want to do this?” he asked.
“I’ve always wanted this. Just been too scared.”
He looked out her window, then scanned out the Jeep around them. “We’ll have to make it fast. I don’t want you exposed to them.”
“Our kind never used to hide our passion.”
He put the Jeep in park. “Yeah, well, that was before YouTube.” His gaze swept down her body and his scent hit her. Hot. Masculine. Turned on. “Get out and pull your pants down.”
A surge of lust flooded her system with heat and want and need. Blood rushed to her core and she hopped out. Standing in the open door, her pants had barely passed her butt cheeks when he was behind her, his lips on her neck, his hands over hers, pushing the material down far enough to spread her legs. His big hand skimmed around her waist to dip down and cup her sex.
“I’m ready.” She ground her ass into him. The coarse material of his pants and the scratch of his zipper were delicious sensations on her needy flesh.
“I want to be sure.” His breath wafted over her neck, sending shivers down her flushed body. One finger pushed through her sex, swiping her clit.
As good as it felt, this
was taking too damn long. She wanted this male. He was hers and she wanted the world to know they belonged to each other. No wonder humans wore wedding rings. She’d wear a tiara at this point to get the word out. For too long she’d held back, overly aware of what others thought of her.
“I want you to fuck me hard. Right now.” She reached behind her to fumble with the button and zipper of his pants. He didn’t help, but stroked along her folds, then dabbed at her clit, switching between them over and over again. She needed several attempts to open his trousers. She kept bucking and arching into his touch and losing her grip.
Finally, she freed him.
He took over, freeing her hands to anchor herself on the cool metal of the vehicle as he thrust inside.
Waylon did just what he’d said they had to do. He made it fast. She tipped her head to the side and pulled her sleeve down to make room for his mouth. As soon as his fangs punctured her neck, she came hard and wet against his hand. Her fingers dug into the frame of the Jeep. They’d fucked like this before, but this time it was more than just a position. It was the call of their wolves to embed their scents into their mates, to warn off other prospective lovers, to repel them.
Their scents mingled. His with hers. Hers with his. Any shifter who came across them, whether she and Waylon were apart or together, would know they belonged to each other.
A full mating ceremony was next, but she wanted to settle in with Waylon first.
“God, baby. That was amazing.” He was still inside of her. His feet were braced and his arms around her, his hand at her center but holding her gently.
Peeling her hands off the frame of the Jeep, she straightened. He slipped out and helped her get her leggings up before stuffing his magnificence back into his own pants.
“That was the most amazing.” She sucked in a lungful of pine- and earth-scented air. Centered. Balanced. When was the last time she’d experienced this level of tranquility?
Why had she waited so long? What would it be like when they finally bonded?
Complete. That’s how she’d feel.
She spun around and palmed his face with both hands. “I’m sorry I made us wait so long.”
A Shifter's Claim (Pale Moonlight Book 4) Page 13
