Winter of the Wolf (Hunt 2)

by Cherise Sinclair

  She took a step back and bumped into the closed door. “Um. What?”

  Muscles rippled along his arms and shoulders as he set one hand on the wall and leaned on it. Under black chest hair, scars ran over his skin in various patterns—and her belly clenched as she realized some must be from hellhound claws.

  He’d said he and Shay fought the monsters, that they were cay-heers, cahirs, who guarded the Daonain. She’d have to ask more about that…sometime.

  Lower down, his stomach had those six-pack muscles the men liked to boast about, and his guy package was—she jerked her gaze back up. Heat flooded her cheeks.

  He didn’t say anything, but his expression had changed to that of a man looking at a woman he wanted.

  “Um, did you want something?” Duh, bad way to phrase that. “To tell me something?”

  He studied her face, making her even more nervous. “Don’t forget tonight. The alpha is holding a run to introduce you to the pack.”

  “I remember.” A social event. A bunch of wolfy shifters out for a night jog. Only, she’d be naked if she trawsfurred. A shiver of unease ran through her. “The alpha is, like, boss wolf?”

  The corner of his mouth turned up. “Just like. His name’s Gerhard.

  German? One of the waitresses had been German. A real sweetie. And a pack sounded nice. Like an instant family. She missed having women around. But there would be men she didn’t know. “Will they…bother me? The men?” Make advances. Rape?

  When he lightly rubbed his knuckles over her cheek, the sensation tingled through her. “No. We don’t have enough females. You are cherished. Protected.”

  “What about s-sex?”

  “You ever going to tell me what happened?”

  Never. She shook her head.

  His mouth tightened, then he said, “For sex, a female must want it or nothing happens.”

  Was he joking? “Fine, then there should be no problem.” Too aware of how close he was, she tried to push him back. Under her palm, his skin stretched tightly over rock-hard chest muscles. He felt so warm. She snatched her hand back. “I don’t like men. I’m gay.”

  His nostrils flared, and amusement lightened his eyes. “No, you’re not.”

  “Oh, like you w-would know.” Her voice cracked.

  “I can smell your interest, little female.”

  Her heart was pounding. “I’m not interested in you.”‘

  “Don’t lie.”

  “I—”

  He kissed her. A light brushing of his warm lips against hers. He paused and did it again, leaning closer.

  As the silky hair on his chest feathered against her breasts, she caught her breath. “Get back.”

  “No.” He cupped her face in his powerful hands and took her lips, then her mouth, plunging his tongue in to take possession.

  She shivered, unnerved by the disconcerting sensations running through her. Her skin felt sensitive, tight, wanting to be touched…and he did.

  As his tongue explored her mouth, he stroked his hands up her bare waist and ribs. His thumbs grazed the sides of her breasts.

  Her breath caught in her throat as her bones melted like butter in a hot pan.

  He took the kiss deeper before he pulled back. “Not interested, huh.” His voice had deepened to a rasp.

  “I—” Oh God, she could feel dampness on her inner thighs. She looked toward the forest. Run run run.

  He put his thumb under her chin to tilt her face up. To force her to look at him. When his eyes caught hers, the ground under her bare feet shifted. “You’re not gay, Bree.” He ran a hand down her arm, and his fingers closed around her wrist. Firmly.

  “Zeb. Wait.”

  “If a female is interested, her scent changes.” His long hair brushed over her arm as he lifted her wrist to his face and sniffed. “A male can smell it.”

  “On her wrist?” Get real.

  “On skin. Anywhere. We’re part-animal—scent is important.” His lips quirked. “But, rather than sniffing asses, we settle for wrists. More polite, don’t you think?”

  The thought of his head going anywhere near her groin made her quiver inside. “Uh. Yes. Polite is good.”

  His other hand still rested on her ribs, his thumb stroking gently over the side of her breast, making heat flare in her low belly. His gaze showed his satisfaction. “Your mind may not want me, little female, but your body does.”

  After running one finger over her dampened lower lip, he took a few steps back, blurred, and shifted into his dark wolf. He glanced over his shoulder with gray-brown eyes, then loped into the forest.

  The air brushed across her skin, startlingly cold after the heat of his body. Her bones felt as if they’d turned to custard, and she sagged against the door. Her breasts ached as if her skin had shrunk. So this was what arousal felt like. God help me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  A pack run was a party on four legs, Bree thought, as she happily trotted along near the rear. They’d hunted a deer earlier, shared the spoils, and as long as she didn’t think about eating raw bloody meat, it had tasted wonderful. Deer tartare—far better than rat.

  The pack turned, flowing across the slope. Her blood sang in her veins as she breathed in the cold night air, scenting the different wolves, her shoulder brushing against the others. A feeling of belonging grew in her, filling the hollow spaces in her heart.

  The pack stopped on a ridge overlooking the forest. An owl slowly flapped over the dark trees. Drifts of snow glinted white in the moonlight.

  The alpha wolf, Gerhard, barked twice before lifting his nose and giving a long slow howl. His brothers, Klaus and Dieter, joined in, then the rest of the wolves. Bree caught the dark fragrance of Zeb and the crisper scent of Shay as they moved up beside her. Shay’s muzzle lifted, and his howl was resonant and beautiful. Zeb joined him, his voice deeper and rougher.

  Compelled, Bree tried. A bark first, then the song caught her, pulling her with it, higher, beautiful. The quarter moon shone down, silvering the dark and light fur. If she’d been in human form, she’d have cried for the beauty. Instead, she sank into the whole. I’m alive, and here is where I belong.

  As the howls faded away, the alpha trotted down the slope, wending his way back into the forest. The pack streamed behind him.

  Bree began to follow, then realized Zeb and Shay hadn’t moved. As Zeb sniffed the air, Bree imitated him and caught a foul scent. Hellhound. The fur on her ruff rose, even as a fearful whine escaped her.

  Shay started in the direction of the scent, but hesitated. He looked at Zeb, then her. As if he’d spoken, she knew he’d told Zeb to stay with her. But, what if there was a hellhound close?

  She shifted, pleased at how easy it was. “Don’t you dare go by yourself. Take the pack.”

  Shay’s ears went back and he growled. For a second, he scared her. Then he shook his head as if to dislodge a fly and looked like her sweet Elvis again.

  Boy, oh boy, he sure didn’t like the idea of taking the pack after a hellhound. But he couldn’t handle a monster by himself. If he got hurt because of her… She turned to Zeb. “You both go. I’ll hang out with the others.”

  Shay didn’t move.

  She sighed. “I’ll stay on the trail with the slow wolves.” Although running with the younger ones was more fun. She was faster than most of them.

  No movement.

  Bree crossed her arms over her breasts, startled at the feeling of naked skin. “Zeb said that this is your cay-heer job. So go to it.”

  Shay’s ears flattened—Mr. Bossy didn’t like taking orders—then his tail waved slightly.

  And she scores a win! Grinning, Bree shifted.

  As if telling her to be careful, Zeb shouldered her and licked her muzzle in a way that made her insides quiver.

  Taking his place, Shay nipped her ear in admonishment and licked her nose. His scent wrapped around her like a blanket of arousal.

  Whoa, she needed to get away from them before she melted like snow in th
e sun. With a yip, she dashed after the pack.

  After catching up, she took a place in the rear with the older wolves. The lovely song from the ridge still hummed in her veins as they wound through the mountains, climbed a steep trail, and crested into an open area. The wolves formed a circle, and Bree joined the cluster of females.

  Overhead, clouds skittered in front of the quarter moon, and shadows slid across the dark dead grasses. The pack was silent. So what would happen now? Bree’s tail drooped with her uncertainty. Darn it, she liked things to be consistent. Routine. Or at least to know what was planned.

  The alpha stepped into the center of the circle and shifted to human. The rest of the wolves followed suit. Except for Bree. Naked in a crowd? Not happening.

  Gerhard walked over, a large man with a dark red complexion and a thick gut. “Trawsfur.”

  She felt an internal push, a need to obey, reminiscent of when she was five and a foster parent gave her an order. Although she realized she could resist Gerhard’s command, everyone else was in human form. Maybe she was being rude. With a feeling of resentment, she trawsfurred, then stood and stepped back behind the other women. Gerhard wasn’t as intimidating as Shay and Zeb, but he was still a big man. And really naked.

  He returned to the center of the clearing. “Wolves,” he said, his coarse voice disturbing the beauty of the night. “We have a new female—unattached. Breanne, step forward.” He held his hand out as if he expected her to walk forward and take it.

  Dream on, buddy. She raised her hand. “Hey, everyone.”

  Gerhard’s brows drew together.

  “Move.” A big woman shoved, and Bree staggered forward, trying to find her footing. Jeez. Several feet into the center of the clearing, she recovered and clasped her hands in front of herself. Her sense of belonging had disappeared, leaving her empty.

  The alpha glanced at her, not as if she were a female, but a duty. “You’re staying alone in a cabin at the lodge. Tomorrow, you move into the pack house until you find a mate.”

  She stared at him. She’d heard he and his two brothers lived in the pack house with a varying population of other wolves. Polite. Be polite, Bree. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m perfectly happy where I’m at.”

  “Wolves don’t live alone, especially females.” His face turned darker red, and he crossed his arms over his bull-like chest. “This isn’t a choice.”

  She could see the pot starting to boil over, knew she couldn’t stop it. No way could she live with a bunch of strange men, especially big ones like him and his brothers. “I’m sor—”

  Again, she felt the compulsion to obey—the creeptoid was doing some weird mental thing. Her desire to be polite disappeared. She glared at him. “No.”

  In her restaurant, the head chef always walked away from an argument. Now she understood why. They can’t argue if you’re not here. Ignoring disbelieving murmurs, she pushed through the crowd and headed for the trail. When she escaped into the trees, she took a breath of relief. Way to play nice with the wolfies, Bree.

  Too shaken to shift, she slowed to consider her options. Navigating the steep path in the dark with rubbery legs would be suicide. Even worse, she wasn’t real clear on where home was. If I go straight downhill, eventually, I’ll find Cold Creek. I hope.

  Footsteps sounded above her, and one of Gerhard’s brothers—Klaus—ran down the trail. In the shadowy light, he seemed to smile. “Good, I won’t have to exert myself after all.” He glanced behind him, up the slope. The pack wasn’t in sight. “So, Breanne, is it? There’s something you need to realize…” He pointed down the trail.

  She turned to look—and his fist slammed into her face. The skin over her cheekbone split. Pain seared through her like fire. Arms windmilling, she staggered back…and off the trail, down the steep, rocky slope.

  Falling. Rocks gashed her back and sides, hit her head. Her skin scraped, tore, as she grabbed for something, anything. Nothing slowed her fall. Please.

  She smashed into a massive tree, and the impact knocked the air from her lungs. Head spinning, she gasped for air. The sound of someone coming after her made her try to rise.

  “Oh, did the mouthy bitch fall down?” Klaus yanked her to her feet. With one hand fisted in her hair, the other around her arm, he forced her up the slope. Struggling for breath, head whirling, she couldn’t fight.

  “We’re going back to the meeting. You’re going to do exactly what Gerhard says.” He yanked her hair, and his ugly laugh turned her stomach. “If you don’t, your next fall will be off a cliff. New shifter. Clumsy. No one will think twice.”

  “You wouldn’t.”

  “Oh, I would. I have.”

  The gloating tone in his voice convinced her. Don’t answer. She’d tell Zeb and Shay. They’d—

  “It’s your word against mine, bitch. If your cahir friends show their fangs, my brother will kick them out of the territory.” Hearing his slimy laugh was more nauseating than eating rat, and she swallowed bile.

  With a painful grip on her arm, he dragged her up the trail, through the crowd, and into the center of the meeting.

  Gerhard—she thought, although her vision kept doubling up—stopped in mid-sentence. “Klaus, what happened?”

  “Your new wolf fell off the trail. Good thing I found her.”

  “Fell?” Gerhard’s voice turned expressionless. “I glad you saved her, Klaus.” He looked at her. “Did you change your mind?”

  Trickles of blood ran down her forehead, her calf, her shoulder. Pain from the fall was beginning to blossom…everywhere. Her ribs stabbed with every painful gasp for air. Even so, she tried to pull away, and Klaus’s grip tightened.

  Self-preservation said she should agree to his demands. She couldn’t. “No.” Her voice shook worse than her legs, and she forced it to steady. “There won’t be a problem. I’ll leave your stupid territory.”

  The fingers around her arm dug in painfully.

  “A new shifter can’t leave until the Cosantir permits,” Gerhard said. “That’ll be a few months at least.”

  “I don’t give a hoot.”

  “The fall must have confused her, Gerhard. I’ll take her back to the tavern for you.” Klaus’s ugly voice and hostile scent scraped over her nerves. He tried to pull her back through the crowd.

  He’ll kill me this time.As fear-induced adrenaline cleared Bree’s head, she could almost see Sensei’s frown. He’d never quit; he had never let her quit. Within the heart of one breath, she found her center.

  “Poor girl, she—”

  Whirling, she kicked Klaus’s shin. He yelled and his grip loosened. She ripped free. Standing close enough her blurred vision wasn’t a problem, she punched him in the face. Cartilage crunched under her knuckles—his nose.

  As he staggered back, she snap-kicked his knee, making him roar.

  The sight of wavery figures converging on their fight distracted her, and Klaus fisted her in the ribs, knocking her to her knees. Pain washed over her in fiery waves. Struggling to regain her breath, she felt caught in a nightmare, surrounded by enemies with no one to save her.

  * * *

  When Shay reached the rear of the pack, he realized his partner had paused under a tree to snatch up a wayward mouse. From the few facts Zeb had shared, he’d stayed as a wolf for years after losing his family. Not only had he managed to live alone without going feral, but—Shay grinned—he’d learned to never pass up a snack.

  Shay’s smile faded. He and Zeb had found the demonkin’s tracks. They needed to talk with Calum and Alec. The scent wasn’t familiar, which meant the territory still had a hellhound in it.

  With a glance around, he saw everyone was in human form, so he shifted. Shouting sounded from the front along with the smack of flesh on flesh. Probably the young males playing dominance games. He smelled healthy sweat. Anger.

  Then, even as a woman yelled, “No! Leave her alone,” Shay caught Breanne’s fear-laden scent. Something inside him twisted and burst with anger. He
couldn’t see her. His snarl ripped out.

  In the center of the circle, Gerhard turned. Their eyes met.

  Shay started shoving through the crowd.

  The alpha yelled a command, and males deliberately blocked Shay’s path. By the God, they’d regret that. He grabbed the first by one arm and threw him at the next in his path. Stepping around them, he flattened a skinny male who got in his way.

  Zeb’s roar came from the rear and someone screeched. A male yelled, then shouted in pain. As Zeb appeared, the remaining obstacles melted out of their way.

  When he reached the center, Shay saw Breanne on her hands and knees. Four males surrounded her, like wolves on a downed deer. Gerhard stood nearby.

  Shay dove forward, trawsfurring in midair, landing as a wolf. Ears back, hackles raised, he placed himself in front of Breanne, taking up a guard position.

  One of Gerhard’s brothers retreated, as did the two other males. Klaus remained, his features distorted with rage. Blood smeared his face and dripped off his chin.

  Zeb stepped between him and Shay. “Try me, scat-head.”

  Klaus scowled, but backed up a step in token retreat. Zeb watched, his scent acrid with anger.

  When no one moved for seconds, Shay shifted and knelt beside Breanne. She was bleeding from scores of gashes and scratches, and red blotches of broken blood vessels showed on her fair skin. Eyes glazed, she didn’t see him as she tried to stand. But she was alive, thank the God.

  His fury edged down a whisker, far enough to restrain it. Anger still ruled his brother. “Zeb.” He nodded toward Breanne. Guard her while I talk.

  Zeb understood. He inhaled slowly, visibly fighting for control, and moved to stand behind her. She pushed up onto her knees but his hand on her shoulder kept her from rising.

  When she swung at him, Zeb leaned over, speaking in her ear. A sigh shuddered through her, and her hand closed over his, gripping tightly.

  Shay rose and faced the alpha, striving to keep his voice even. Non-threatening. “What is going on?”