by Vaughn, V.
Her wolf snarled. Not without this one!
The beast was getting more and more difficult to control. Lana didn’t want to think what would happen when the waxing moon filled. Would she chase Ty to the ends of the Earth or do the smart thing: run the hell away?
She paced, muttered, and endured for three aching days and two torturous nights, until the night of the full moon.
* * *
The moon wasn’t just full; it was painfully full. Bloated, even. Lana slipped out of the suffocating adobe bungalow and shifted, wondering what the night would bring.
Her wolf was eager to get out and run. Too eager, maybe, but the beast wouldn’t be denied. So she loped out past the circle of light that defined the inner ranch and into the pale black-and-white world that was the desert at night. She sniffed in the direction of Ty’s hill, but there was no fresh trail pulling her that way. Instead, she ranged south and west and found herself heading toward the corner where pack land met Seymour Ranch property. When a truck rattled past on the dirt road below, she ducked behind a spindly bush and tucked in her tail. Who was in such a hurry at this time of night?
She followed in a crouched run for a good mile before the truck came to stop beside two others. One vehicle on these roads was normal. Two might be called a conference. But three? Something was definitely wrong. She squinted into the crescent of headlights. Her breath hitched when she spotted Ty stepping out of the truck. Cody seemed to have arrived first, and the brothers locked gazes just long enough to mentally communicate some urgent message.
Three other men stood to the side, spitting angry looks. They converged with Ty and Cody and created one seething huddle. Even from a distance, she could tell Cody was trying to keep things calm. Ty, on the other hand, was a picture of barely controlled fury. The other three were rifle-toting humans who looked all too itchy to shoot.
She crept forward, keeping to the shadows. Her nose wrinkled, catching the unmistakable scent of coagulated blood and bloated flesh. A morbid kind of curiosity drew her onward. What — or who — had died here?
Another careful step, and she had the answer. Dead sheep. She could make out the carcasses now, three or four of them tossed about a slope. They’d been shredded alive by some animal bent on destruction. She crept closer and sniffed again, then pulled her head back at the tell-tale acid scent of rogues.
They must have come and gone hours ago, but they were sure to strike again. Somewhere, sometime. Soon.
Except the smell was too overpowering to come from just a couple of sheep. She crouched lower, letting the fur of her belly brush the ground as she crept forward to peer over a rise. Clumps of desert scrub shifted and waved in the slight breeze. Among them were softer, rounder heaps that didn’t stir at all. She drew back at the sight of more dead sheep. Many more. Her eyes made out the brand on the nearest body — a double S — and her mind spun. Clearly, the three humans from Seymour Ranch hadn’t seen the extent of the carnage. Once they did, they’d kick up a fuss from here to the state capital. An investigation would ensue, and the pack’s fragile anonymity would be threatened.
She had to help distract them. Cody and Ty were still talking to the men, obviously trying to draw them away from the hollow where the majority of the sheep lay. A diversion, that’s what they needed. But what? She glanced around, wondering if she could set off a rock slide or let out a howl. No, it would be foolish to appear in wolf form here. They’d blame her for the massacre. What then?
The three humans were already pushing past Cody and moving toward the side of the road. In another minute, they would discover the rest of the sheep and all hell would break loose. Without giving much thought to her plan, she shifted back to her human form, her mind was spinning with a single thought.
Fast. She had to act fast.
* * *
Ty stopped just short of yanking the Seymour ranchers back from the edge of the road. So they were angry — so what? He personally had leapfrogged anger and gone straight to fury.
Yas was responsible for this carnage. He knew it. Clearly, the rogue was back with a band of troublemakers and was once again trying to pit humans against wolves in the hope that they’d kill each other off. The Seymour Ranch hands would set off a massive wolf hunt, which in turn would rile up his fellow shifters. Sooner or later, things would escalate. All it took was one of his cockier packmates to shift in plain view of a human, and the pack’s true nature would be exposed.
Ty shook his head, keeping his wolf shackled inside. Didn’t Yas realize that trouble for the wolf pack would eventually extend to his own brethren?
Right. Like rogues were capable of thinking that far ahead or that clearly.
The last few days had been agonizing even without the threat of rogues. He had taken to running night patrols just to keep his mind off Lana. Whenever he let himself get too close to her, he was squeezed in a vice between duty and overwhelming desire. Too far, and his wolf strained at a rapidly fraying leash.
All week, he’d struggled to find a solution. Somehow, he had to lock out emotion and get on with his life. Above all, he had to get Lana to safety, even if it meant denying himself. There were too many dangers for her here. He could tick them off on three fingers: one, the rogues. Two, his father. Three, himself. Because what if that humming force started up between them again? He’d never be able to resist, and it wouldn’t end well for her, just as it hadn’t ended well for his mother, or any of his father’s women.
A seductive voice whispered in the back of his mind. Unless she’s your true mate.
When Lana joined in on his howling a few nights back, something inside him had swelled and nearly burst past his self-imposed boundaries. He would have howled into sunrise with her if not for the rogues. In mid-howl, though, he’d caught a murmur deep in the night. It was barely there, more of a portent than a presence. But it had been enough to shatter the magic and tear him away.
But maybe that had been for the best. He’d almost forgotten she was a Dixon that night.
He’d been on his way to check out the threat when he was called back to the ranch by another report of rogue activity that turned out to be a false alarm. He cursed himself. If he had followed his first hunch, the trouble would never have gone this far.
He blinked, focusing on the present. Right now, he had to stop the ranchers before they discovered the other sheep. Then he could call out his trackers and chase the rogues all the way to hell.
A scream pierced the night air and he spun toward it, along with Cody and the humans. When a figure came crashing through the brush, the ranchers surged forward, rifles raised.
“Help!” A desperate voice cried out. “Help!”
The ranchers stepped back when a woman stumbled onto the road, and every muscle in his body cramped. It was Lana, crying and flailing and naked as the day she was born. Beautiful, every inch of her, even in hysteria. She threw herself at Dale, the Seymour ranch foreman, capturing him in a terrified embrace. “I was, I was—” she stuttered, pawing the man. Dale stood in shock, trying to prop her up without touching too much naked flesh.
Ty’s blood massed in great clumps, then surged forward in dam-bursting floods. Like hell he would let any other man see her — touch her! He strode over in three steps, unbuttoned his flannel shirt, and draped it around Lana like a cape. She continued to babble as he pulled her away, something about a man and a prank and a truck and—
She winked. In the middle of it all, Lana winked at him. He nearly pulled up in surprise, though she kept babbling away and clutching his T-shirt, acting all the world like a woman frightened half out of her mind.
Acting? What the hell was she up to?
He caught Cody’s eyes, which were twinkling with some inside joke Ty just couldn’t catch. What was so funny here?
Whatever her game was, it was working. The ranchers’ eyes were glued to this damsel in distress, torn between wanting to comfort her and getting a better view of her gloriously fit ass. He maneuvered her to the f
ar side of his truck, glad only for the fact that no one made a move toward the rise. The sheep were forgotten, at least for the moment.
That’s when his mind finally made sense of Lana’s wink. She’d created a diversion, just in time.
“I don’t know if I should kill you or kiss you,” he muttered, then snapped his mouth shut.
Lana grinned from ear to ear. “Kiss,” she whispered, letting her lips brush his ear.
One little word had never sounded so dangerous or delicious. The hiss of it stayed in his ear and shot straight into his bloodstream.
Kiss, the wolf in him purred.
Kill, the man thought in half-hearted resistance.
He didn’t dare open his mouth for fear of which word might come out. A good thing Cody was on the ball, convincing the ranchers that he and Ty would deal with the situation.
“Enough for one night,” he suggested, his voice working its usual magic. Even through the glare of his anger, Ty couldn’t help wishing he had his brother’s gift with words. “We’ll take care of this,” Cody cooed to the Seymour ranch hands. “We’ll find the coyote responsible. We’ll take care of him.”
It was a miracle he could hear anything through the roaring in his ears. Damn it! She was so close. He tried prying Lana away, keeping her at arm’s length to somehow hold on to his sanity. But his mind and his muscles found themselves at odds, and the heat of her stayed right against his ribs.
The ranchers muttered half-heartedly but they fired up their pick-up and drove away. Ty caught Cody’s chuckle when Lana abruptly stopped raving, straightened, and gave them a pert nod. She was — laughing?
He could have throttled them both. “Get in the truck,” he growled.
Lana crossed her arms and dug her bare heels into the ground.
He worked his jaw so hard it emitted a sharp crack. “Get in the truck, please.”
Lana let a stubborn moment tick by, then climbed into the truck, slamming the door for good measure.
“I’ll take care of this,” Cody said, waving toward the sheep. “You go take care of…that.” He motioned toward the truck and turned away with a badly disguised smile.
Rogue coyotes, human neighbors who’d come within a hair of discovering a terrible secret, and a hard-headed woman who had the gall to assume he needed help. A Dixon, no less. And those two were laughing?
Not only that, but crap, the night was still young.
* * *
He drove in silence, unable to summon a word as Lana’s tempting scent filled the cab. It was even more striking than the day he’d brought her up from the airport. Tonight, her scent was bold, lusty. Downright provocative. He rolled down the windows and tried breathing through his mouth.
With a grunt, he finally gave in and smacked the steering wheel. “Damn it! What were you thinking, bursting in naked back there?”
Lana crossed her arms over the flannel shirt — his flannel shirt, meaning their scents were mingling far, far too suggestively — and stared at him in silent challenge.
“Those men…everyone saw you!”
She arched an eyebrow, and something wild glowed in her blue eyes. So did you, purred her wolf. And what did you think?
A sudden flash of hot hammered his body. We like, we like! His wolf growled. He tightened his fingers around the steering wheel lest they reach out to stroke her silky hair.
“You have to admit it worked.” She looked smug.
If hardening every cock on the scene was her goal, then yes, it had certainly worked. Because his was still erect and straining at his jeans. He held his tongue before it licked her all over, starting with that sassy mouth and ending in another warm, wet cavity.
The thought only hardened the bulge in his jeans. He couldn’t remember ever getting as quickly — or as desperately — aroused by a woman. Fury spearheaded the stampede, with jealousy and desire not far behind. There was something else, too, trembling all the way in the back. Fear? His back went stiff. What did he have to be afraid of?
One glance at her freckled nose told him what. He could lose himself in her, forget who he was and what his duties were. Forget who she was. No way could he fraternize with the daughter of his father’s sworn enemy.
Lana watched the funnel of light thrown by the truck’s high beams. “Look, I was out for a run when I came across you guys. They were about to see the rest of the sheep. So I did the first thing I could think of to distract them.”
“You succeeded,” he agreed, squeezing the wheel harder at the thought of all those men, raking her body with their eyes. And her hands had been all over Dale! Ty couldn’t have wrapped his shirt around her fast enough, and when he did, the contact was electrifying. All he’d wanted to do was smooth the cloth over every curve of her body.
Another heavy pause pinched the air.
“You’re not mad, are you?” Her voice cracked slightly.
Mad? He was furious! He was beside himself! He was…he was melting fast, going all soft and mushy inside while his groin was still rock hard. Desperate to touch her, taste her — and that was just the beginning of his list. He sniffed the air and found it thick with her lust. His was there, too, weaving itself around hers. Jesus, the temptation.
Lana leaned toward him, her eyes closed, chin tilted up. Her expression went from inquisitive to warm as she cracked into a satisfied smile at his scent. Her eyes opened and landed right on his. Eyes that were more wolf than human. Gotcha, they said. On the heels of that came an open invitation. I want you, wolf.
He whipped his eyes to the road, jerking the truck back from a swerve that kicked up a shower of giggling gravel.
“Gotta love the night air,” Lana said, refolding the unbuttoned shirt over her torso and tossing her long hair. She had no idea how much he wanted to tangle his fingers in there and pull her to him. She had no idea how bad it would be if he allowed that to happen. The air crackled with the energy of a whip, poised to snap.
As the truck reached the crest of a hill, his traitorous foot eased off the gas pedal. In the rear view mirror, the red tail lights of the rancher’s vehicles were mere fireflies in the landscape. Cody’s vehicle was still back there, headlights pointing into the brush.
He killed the engine but left his hand on the wheel, closing his eyes. Lana was waiting for him, toying with his heart. It was torture, sheer torture. Didn’t she realize why they couldn’t be together?
No, he realized. She didn’t.
“Lana,” he started, mustering all his self-discipline. Her name nearly stuck on his teeth. His tongue wanted to keep it there and roll it around. “Lana, your father is Nate Dixon.”
Her eyes narrowed. “So?”
He waited, hoping the night would do the telling for him. “No one ever told you?”
“Told me what?”
He scrubbed a hand across his jaw. “Your parents used to live here in Arizona. You know why they left?”
She crossed her arms over the flannel. “They wanted a new start out East, so they went back to my dad’s home pack.”
So that’s what they’d told her. A grain of truth buried at the heart of the lie. Nate Dixon did hail from back East. He’d come to Arizona to try something new and worked his way up the hierarchy of a struggling new pack, alongside Ty’s father. The two had been best friends until they fell for the same woman.
“What about your mother?” he asked.
“What about my mother?” Lana’s hands balled into fists.
“They didn’t mention who she was with before she met your father?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
She wasn’t getting it. His fingers drummed the dashboard as he wondered how to say it. Finally, he drew in a deep breath and began. “Your mother was with my father. But she left him when she got pregnant — by Nate Dixon.”
Chapter 7
“My mother? Your father? Never.” She spat the words out, clenching a fist in her lap.
Ty knew better than to answer that one. At least
Lana seemed angrier with the situation than at him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to somehow make it all right. But he was powerless.
It was torture, being this close to her, just as it was torture to think about the blood that ran through his veins. He admired his father as an alpha, but the man was a heartless bastard. He’d knocked up Ty’s mother, then gone off and seduced Lana’s mother. Not that he’d loved either woman. That was the crazy part. The blood feud was based entirely on the old man’s hurt pride.
When Lana’s mother left — in a hurry, no doubt — with Dixon, Ty’s father took his mother back just long enough to knock her up a second time. The tortured woman had stuck around one more year before running away, abandoning Ty and his sister. Ty closed his eyes at his vague memories of a dark-haired woman with sad eyes. He could still taste the salt of her tears, hear her sobs as she hugged him goodbye. But he couldn’t blame her for leaving. Not after the way his dad treated her.
Another woman had promptly filled her place in his father’s bed, if not in Ty’s heart. Cody’s mother. Then she, too, left, her haunted eyes filled with shattered dreams. It was a cycle that had repeated itself, again and again. A cycle that Ty, the oldest child, observed as a mute witness.
He gripped the wheel so hard, the leather started to tear under his nails. His father’s blood ran in his veins and though it gave him strength, it also doomed him to a lonely existence. But it was better to be alone than to be proven a bastard like his father. If only the pack females could accept that instead of trying to twist the occasional night of fun into something more, trying to land what they saw as a prize. He snorted. Some prize he’d be.
At least, that’s what he thought before the phantom came along to tease him. For a time, he’d let himself believe there was someone out there strong enough to be his mate. It was the same now that Lana was here. That vision of a better life was back, tapping inside his skull, begging for him to open the door. He’d been so sure the phantom was his intended mate that he vowed never to lose his heart again. Yet here he was, doing it all over for another woman. If that didn’t prove he was a faithless bastard like his father, what did?
