by S. K. Yule
“It sounds so cold to me. What kind of relationship would it be if we were only together because we were fated for one another? What about love and respect?” She let her head rest against the window beside her. The cool surface felt refreshing against her skin. “And what if my mate isn’t respectable?”
“What about soul mates, love at first sight, true love? Those, to me, are fated things as well, and I think there is plenty of love and respect in those types of relationships. Why would it have to be any different?”
“I don’t know. I just don’t like the idea of being told who I have to be with.” She closed her eyes, not missing the fact that he didn’t comment on what it would mean if her mate wasn’t respectable. She could feel the beginning of a headache coming on. She didn’t want to think about any of this at the moment.
“Just because you are destined to be with someone, doesn’t guarantee you will end up with that person. Plenty of lycans never find their mates. To me, it simply means that there is one perfect match somewhere, the other half of a soul.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Her lids felt heavy, and they began to close.
* * * *
She’d been asleep for close to five hours. Her head rested against the window, and she was so tiny, she reminded him of a helpless child. She was anything but. She had more fight in her than most men he’d known. He was more worried about her mental fragility. She’d seemed appalled and defeated when he’d told her she was a destined mate. She’d dealt with so much in her short lifetime. His heart ached for her. His mate should have been cared for, protected until he’d found her and claimed her. Instead she’d been hunted and abused.
She was going to flip out when she found out he was her mate. He’d almost told her. It had been on the tip of his tongue. Now he was glad he hadn’t because he had a feeling that, at this point in time, that particular information would send her into a desperate flee for freedom every chance she got. He felt a bit guilty, but he hoped by the time she found out, she’d love him enough to forgive him.
Something had to be done about the rogues who were terrorizing potential mates. Mates were essential to their well-being, peace of mind, and survival, and they were being mistreated instead of protected. He’d killed several rogues himself, but he couldn’t control them all. His friend, Anthony, had killed a few also, but still, they could only take out so many. If the rogues continued to hurt and even kill potential mates, their race would end up dying out. How hard was that to understand? The idiocy and narrow-mindedness of it all made him angry and sad.
How many more lycans would have to be denied their mates before the older lycans banded together and stopped the rogues once and for all? Dishonorable acts against potential mates may be punishable by death, but little was done to enforce the ancient law nowadays. And, as far as he was concerned, none of the bastards acting in such a disgraceful manner deserved to claim their own mates. He pitied any woman who ended up shackled to a rogue.
He wasn’t certain how to stop it. The younger lycans needed to be brought up to understand the importance of mates. It seemed the older lycans had turned their backs on the younger wolves. Brent knew there would always be instances when a lycan would have to be killed, but killing all who had gone rogue was not the answer, as those numbers were increasing. If things continued as they were without some type of values instilled in the young ones, there would be no new blood worthy of sustaining the lycan race.
Unfortunately, until something was done to help teach the young ones appropriate behavior, killing them remained the only answer. This saddened Brent, because many of the lycans who’d gone rogue were outcasts and had simply done the best they could to survive on their own.
Chapter Five
Rindy yawned and stretched. “Where are we?”
“About three hours from home.”
Home? She didn’t know what home was any longer. She’d jumped from place to place so often, she’d never had a chance to stay in one spot long enough to call it home. “I need to use the restroom; can we stop somewhere?”
“Yes. There is an exit with a stop in about two miles. Are you hungry?” He looked at her.
For some reason, when he rested those chocolate eyes on her, she felt restless, hot. She’d never felt the feelings he seemed to inspire in her, and she didn’t much care for them. “A little.”
He nodded. “Me, too. We’ll grab a bite to eat as well.”
Before she knew it, he was pulling into the parking lot of what looked to be a truck stop, appropriately named Mack’s Grub ’n’ Gas.
When the truck came to a stop, she unbuckled her seatbelt, opened the door, and slid to the ground. Her legs were a little wobbly from the long ride. The sleep had been a wonderful bonus. She hadn’t slept for so many hours straight in years. She’d been a light sleeper since the attack on her family, with every little noise jarring her abruptly awake.
She watched as Brent reached behind the seat and pulled out a long-sleeved, black shirt. He took off the shirt he was wearing, shrugged into the black one, and buttoned it. She tried hard not to admire the quick flash of broad, muscled chest that had been exposed during the change, but she failed miserably. He slid from the seat, shut the truck door, and walked around to the passenger side.
She started for the restaurant entrance, but Brent placed a hand on her shoulder. “Wait.”
“Why?” She was a little annoyed that he looked unrumpled after the long ride. Even the half of his shirt that remained untucked—hanging just low enough to cover the holes in the thigh of his jeans from the earlier fight with the werewolf—in no way made him look disheveled. She, no doubt, had not fared so well. She rubbed at her eyes.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere without me.”
“Um, I don’t think they will let you in the women’s room. And, quite frankly, I don’t want you there either. I’m perfectly capable of going to the restroom without assistance.” Like she needed him to watch her while she picked all the sleep crust from her eyes.
“Not what I meant. I don’t want you going off anywhere by yourself. Let me at least walk you to the restroom.”
She was too hungry and mentally drained to argue with him. She shrugged. “Lead the way.”
She followed him. Whereas someone else would probably not notice anything amiss once inside the surprisingly clean restaurant, he nevertheless towed her behind him by the hand, scanning their surroundings as they went. He’d sniff at the air every once in awhile as well. Must be nice to be able to smell danger; she could have used that trick a time or two. It would have given her even more of a jump on her stalkers.
They made it to the restroom door, and he opened it and boldly walked in, obviously not caring that it was intended only for women. Within moments he was back. He gave her a slight bow. “It’s all yours.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad.”
He gave her a bored look that told her he was not amused in the least. After using the toilet, she washed her hands and peered into the mirror. She felt like she barely knew herself any longer. So much of her old self had been lost in the chaos of trying to survive. The carefree girl she’d once been had turned hard and suspicious of the world. It made her sad. She wanted to laugh again, be safe again. She tossed the paper towel she’d used to dry her hands into the waste can. Useless dreams would get her nothing but heartache.
She took a deep breath and made her exit. Brent was waiting for her, hadn’t appeared to have moved a muscle since she’d gone into the restroom. “Ready to eat?”
He nodded and led her to a table toward the back that faced the door. He motioned for her to sit in the booth where her back would be to the door. He waited for her to sit and slid in the seat across from her. He was big. Of course, everyone seemed big to her, but he was exceptionally so.
She noted how he seemed to move with purpose, grace. The way he glanced at the entrance every few minutes seemed a casual, inconspicuous interest in his surroundings. She knew it was anything but. He was always
on the alert for trouble. She recognized it easily as she’d lived most of her life doing the same.
“How’s your arm and leg?” When the wolf had used Brent’s arm and thigh in lieu of a favorite bone, she knew it had inflicted deep wounds. Had that happened to her, she was fairly certain she wouldn’t have been walking without assistance. And the pain from puncture wounds was excruciating. She remembered that fact from when she was a girl, and the neighbor’s beloved poodle—Lucky—had decided to clamp down on her ankle one day when she had been walking home from school.
She barely kept a wince subdued just thinking about all of the pain those petite teeth of Lucky’s had caused. The infection she’d gotten from the bite hadn’t been fun either. The wolf’s fangs had been huge. But Brent hadn’t so much as favored his leg or arm.
“They are healing.”
“You were bitten pretty badly. Do you need stitches, maybe some antibiotics?”
His dark eyes rested on her. She had a sudden urge to squirm under his gaze, but she remained still, refusing to convey the effect he had on her. She’d learned long ago to never show weakness.
He rolled his sleeve up to reveal the puncture wounds from the bite. “See. I’ll live.”
She leaned closer. The wound was already closing up and looked days old rather than hours. She ran a finger over the puckered skin. “How is that possible?”
“We heal much faster than humans. In fact, if I shift to wolf form, the wounds will be completely healed when I shift back.”
That was something she hadn’t known. “Are you immortal? Like a vampire?”
He threw his head back and laughed as the waitress dressed in jeans and a T-shirt sat two glasses of water and two menus down on their table. The sound startled Rindy because she wasn’t expecting that type of reaction, but the low timbre was rich and comforting.
Apparently, the waitress was not unaffected by his laugh either. She appeared to be in her thirties and was quite attractive with big, green eyes and shiny black hair. She watched Brent and admired him openly. A small stab of jealousy shot through Rindy and startled her way more than his laugh had. No, Rindy. It isn’t jealousy. It’s annoyance.
“What can I get you to drink?” The waitress glanced quickly at Rindy, but soon turned back to stare at Brent.
He raised a brow at Rindy. Yeah, what she was feeling had to be annoyance, annoyance at the waitress acting as if she weren’t even there. She couldn’t really blame her for checking Brent out. He was gorgeous and had quite an impressive presence. Any breathing woman would do so, but it would be nice if she didn’t act as if Rindy weren’t in the room.
“I’ll take iced tea, please,” Rindy said before picking the menu up and ducking her head behind it to hide her irritation.
“Coffee for me,” Brent said.
“Would you like any cream or sugar with the coffee?” The waitress treated him to a sultry smile.
“No. Black.”
“ ’k. I’ll get it, but you let me know if you need anything else, anything at all, sugar.” She winked at him.
Rindy watched the waitress saunter off. “Yeah, don’t worry about me. I’ll take sweet or unsweet tea,” she muttered then rolled her eyes. “Good Lord.”
“What?”
“Let me know if you need anything else, anything at all, sugar.” Rindy mimicked the waitress’ Southern drawl, which seemed unusual for someone so far North.
“She was just being nice, Rindy.”
“Uh-huh. She was being way more than nice.”
“Jealous?” Brent smiled.
Her knees turned weak when he grinned at her. “Um, noooo. It just must get irritating if you have to put up with that everywhere you go. Which I’m sure you do. Not to mention that she treated me like the invisible woman.”
Damn it. She’d slipped up, and by the smirk on his face, he wasn’t going to let her slide either.
“Does that mean you think I’m good-looking?” He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” She itched to smack that smug grin right off his full lips.
He chuckled and went back to reading his menu. After a few moments, he laid it on the table. She peeked at him over her own menu, and he was watching her.
“I’m not embarrassed to admit that I think you are very good-looking—beautiful in fact.” His eyes never left hers.
She could feel her cheeks burning and ducked her head back behind the menu. “Yeah, that’s because men are pigs,” she mumbled and had to tamp down the urge to throw her glass of water at him when he laughed at her.
They ordered, and Rindy’s annoyance with the waitress grew as she fawned all over Brent. A few times, she thought Brent would have to wipe the drool off him from the woman.
Ten minutes later, the waitress delivered their hamburgers and fries. The heaping plates of food looked and smelled mouth-watering. They both dug in.
“Do you have any family?” She stuck a fry in her mouth after she asked.
He paused for a moment. “Not any longer.”
“What happened to them?”
“I left my family years ago. They and I disagreed on things, and I felt it was time for me to move on.”
“You just left your family because of a disagreement?” She sat up straighter. How could someone do such a thing? She’d give an arm and a leg to have her family back.
“It wasn’t a simple disagreement. You have to understand that my family was not a family in the traditional sense that you are familiar with. My family was more of a pack. I was raised with several other males. Most were not my blood relatives. My mother died when I was young, and my father instilled certain values in us. Most of which I came to be unable to abide by once I got older.”
“Oh. Like what?” She sipped at her tea.
“One example is that he believed our mates were our property, that they were mere belongings that were supposed to do what we commanded. They were considered little more than a means to reproduce.” He took the last bite of his burger.
“That is horrible.” How could anyone think such a thing? And she felt her heart ache for any woman who was unfortunate enough to find herself in the hands of those monsters.
“Yes. I agree. I believe that a mate is to be cherished and loved. But I will not lie. I do believe it is my job to be the protector. It is my job to care and provide for my mate. But I also sincerely wish to make my mate happy. And I pray that my mate will come to love and respect me.”
Why was he staring at her so intently? She felt as if he was trying to convey more than just his feelings on the subject. She did admire him for having the strength to break from the barbaric thinking of his family. Maybe Brent Falls was a good man. Maybe he was nothing like the others she’d encountered. However, she couldn’t allow herself to forget that when it came down to bare bones, he was still a werewolf. And she could never allow herself to fully trust one. Could she?
“So, I take it you do not have a mate, then?”
He shook his head. “I have a mate. We all have a mate somewhere.”
“So, you haven’t found her yet?” She sat a little straighter, waiting for his answer.
“I think I’m very close to knowing her.”
“Oh.” Why did that seem to bother her so much? She should be happy that he was going to find a mate. “Well, I wish the best for you and her.”
“As do I. I have been lonely for many years. I cannot tell you how much I have longed to find her.” He reached across the table and briefly squeezed her hand.
The shock that surged through her at his touch nearly made her gasp. His eyes darkened, but also seemed to faintly glow. He’d felt it, too. My goodness, girl. He just told you he’s close to finding his mate, and you are getting hot and bothered over him touching your hand.
She took a sip of her nearly empty—unsweet, as it turned out—tea to soothe her suddenly parched throat, wiped her mouth with a napkin, and tossed the crumpled tissue on the table. “I’m r
eady when you are” squeaked from her.
He pulled enough money from his pocket to cover the bill and allow for a generous tip. He stood and held his hand out for her. Something inside her urged her to take it, but she didn’t. She walked past him, and he followed her to the truck. He made sure she was safely inside before closing the door and walking around to get behind the wheel.
He backed out of the parking lot, and within moments they were back on the highway. “Next stop, home.”
There was that word again. Home. How she wished she had one to call her own. She watched the mile markers fly by and the snow pick up as they got closer and closer to their destination. She missed the rain from the earlier part of the trip, but she couldn’t deny the beauty of the white blanket covering the land and the fluffy caps on the trees.
Chapter Six
Brent slowed and engaged the four-wheel drive on the truck before he turned off the main road and started down the driveway. The snow had gotten deeper and nearly reached the bottom of the doors.
“Hang on.” He waited until Rindy clutched the ‘oh shit’ handle by the top of the door and gave the truck some gas.
After about fifteen minutes of fishtailing in the truck, he finally guided it to a smooth stop in front of the cabin. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. Is this it?” She peered out the front window.
He nodded and watched her reaction to seeing his—their—home for the first time. “It’s not much, but I think you will find it is comfortable.”
“It’s beautiful.”
He’d built the cabin himself, had cut each tree from his own land with his own two hands. It had taken him years, but it had been worth every second. “Wait there.”
He slid out into the knee-deep snow and went around to the passenger side of the truck. He opened the door, reached behind the seat, and slung Rindy’s backpack over his shoulder. When he reached across her, undid her seatbelt, and scooped her from the seat, he nearly groaned at the feel of her against him. She was as light as a feather, and her scent and the warmness of her body made him ache to kiss her.
