Lone Wolf's Captive (novella)

by Sherilee Gray

Fletch’s scent filled the room. There was no escape from it. She gritted her teeth. If she had something to stuff up her nose to dull the blasted smell, she would. It did things to her, things she didn’t want, and didn’t have any control over.

  He was in here with her. The sound of his breathing, slow and steady, rose above the buzz of the forest. He was close. End of the bed.

  She couldn’t believe he did this. Was he high? He’d freaking kidnapped her. How dare he show up after all this time and expect her to just drop everything! Anger, sharp and bitter rose to the surface. He’d made it more than clear the bond they shared meant nothing that she meant nothing. He’d sentenced them both to a long, shitty life, never to experience the protection and love of a mate.

  She’d stupidly assumed death would be the only way he could leave her to that cold and broken fate. She’d never forgive him for that.

  How she’d grieved his loss, pined for him every day since his disappearance. Yet, here he was, hale and whole, and sitting just a few feet away. Waiting for her to wake up like nothing happened, like it hadn’t nearly killed her when he went away.

  Ready to return, if only a small amount of the pain he’d caused her, Laney sprang to her feet and, baring her fangs, launched at him in one swift movement. His eyes widened and he scrambled to get out of his chair. “Oh fuck.”

  But just shy of her target, something pulled her up short. Agony shot up her leg, like a tight band around her ankle, biting into her flesh. The restraint stopped her mid-flight and her body, airborne for a split second, hit the ground hard at his feet.

  He stared down at her, frowning. “Shit.”

  “You restrained me,” she hissed.

  He ran a hand through his dishevelled hair and shrugged. “We still need to talk,” he pointed to the ankle cuff, “And I’m gonna need you to listen.”

  Laney let her wolf rise to the surface. He was ten times stronger than her, maybe more, but she was fast and she was pissed. That had to count for something. After she’d taken a bite out of him, she’d get the hell out of here.

  But as her body prepared to shift, she felt something tighten around her neck, cutting off her windpipe and she instantly stopped her attempts.

  She clawed at her throat. A collar. A fucking collar.

  Panic and confusion took over. She collapsed on the ground, thrashing on the floor, grabbing at the offensive chain around her neck. “Oh, God. Get it off me.”

  “Calm down, Laney.”

  “Get. It. Off. I can’t breathe.” Desperate, she tore at the thing. Lifting her free leg, she added a foot to her efforts. With her chained leg in the air, her struggles caused her to back spin. Each loop getting faster and making her more tangled. A heavy weight landed on top of her, stopping her mid-loop.

  “Enough,” Fletch said against her ear, sending tingles across her scalp. “I don’t want you to shift and take off.”

  Breathing hard, she let the fight drain from her body and collapsed in a heap.

  “You finished?” His voice rumbled through her, doing unwanted things to her nipples, which were currently pressed against his rock hard chest.

  “I hate you.” She scowled up at him.

  “No you don’t.”

  “Get off me,” she snarled, lifting her hips to buck him off. Bad idea. Her body made contact with more hard, warm male and she sucked in a breath. His solid weight eased back an inch as he worked to free her hands, shaking his head when he gripped her ankle and released her foot.

  “Woman, how the hell did you get your toe hooked up there like that?”

  She winced. She must look like an insane fox terrier with its first collar. “Get this thing off me. Now.”

  “If you’d settle down, you’d realise how loose it is.”

  “I can’t believe you did this to me. I want you to take it off.”

  “Not until we talk. I can’t risk you running off. This is for your own good, Sugar.”

  “My own good? Who the hell do you think you are?” Laney prided herself on her even-tempered nature, her ability to see reason. But right now, she was on the verge of rage-induced murder.

  He stared at her, holding her captive with his intense gaze. “Who am I?” His fingers moved to her nape, massaging, moving through her hair. “I’m yours. That’s never changed and never will.”

  Damn him. She swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the boulder-sized lump in her throat. “Bullshit.”

  “It works both ways, Laney. No sense in denying it.” He reached up with the other hand and plucked a pen from her unruly locks, his lips quirking up at the corner. “Looks like you’ve been workin’ too hard.”

  “Yeah? How the hell would you know?”

  “I know you,” he said simply.

  She shoved at his chest. “You don’t know shit.”

  Hovering above her, he stared down, studying her. One eye—arctic blue—the other unseeing and several shades lighter. Five evenly spaced scars formed ragged grooves in his skin, starting from his forehead, over his damaged eye and finishing at his cheek. He’d had them as long as she’d known him.

  She studied his face. Several days’ growth darkened his jaw, adding to the whole dangerous vibe he had going on. A lock of dark hair had fallen forward and her palm itched to reach up and brush it off his forehead. His breathing became choppy and his gaze slid to her mouth.

  “I’ve missed you so damn much, Laney.”

  She wanted to push him off, tell him to go to hell, but then he leaned forward and nuzzled behind her ear. His whiskers tickled her skin, caused tingles across her scalp. He drew in her scent and at the same time marked her with his own.

  The press of his firm, warm lips at her throat sent a jolt of need through her body. He continued to trail soft kisses along her jaw and growled, the sound pure wolf. He seemed to snap and his hand thrust deeper into her hair, fisting it, holding her captive. His lips crashed down on hers, hot and demanding. She opened for him without thought of resistance, like she always had. A moan escaped before she could stop it. He took full advantage and invaded her mouth, kissing her with deep, hungry licks and devouring her. He tasted the same. So good.

  Her heart squeezed painfully. How many times had she dreamt of this, of having Fletch back in her arms?

  One of those large hands moved to curve around her waist, pulling her in tighter like he always used to. A tear leaked from the corner of her eye, blazing a heated path across her temple and disappearing into her hair.

  She couldn’t do this. It hurt too much. She couldn’t go through the pain of losing him again. She’d barely survived the last time. Summoning strength she didn’t know she possessed, she shoved at his chest and turned her head, breaking the kiss.

  Panting hard, he rested his forehead against hers and gazed down at her. Still holding her tight, he searched her face. The hand at her waist moved, glided over her ribs, brushing the underside of her breast before moving over her shoulder to cup the side of her neck. Then he brushed her cheek with his thumb, wiping away her tears and forced her to look at him. “This is how it should be, baby. Don’t push me away.”

  “I can’t do this,” she whispered.

  His eyes softened. “You think being separated from you has been easy on me? It nearly killed me.”

  That’s all it took, those careless words. Anger rushed forward, replacing the pain. She pushed his hand away. “You’re the one who left.” The warmth dissolved before her eyes, his expression turning blank.

  “Get off me,” she whispered.

  A muscle in his jaw twitched as he moved to give her room. Laney scrambled back to the foot of the bed and wrapped her arms around her knees, watching, waiting. He said nothing and stared at her in that way he used to when he couldn’t figure something out. It unnerved her.

  “You said you wanted to talk, so talk,” she blurted. The sooner he spat out whatever he had to say, the sooner she could leave. Rolling her shoulders, she tried to get her muscles to relax, fighting to extinguish the fire
and need she knew still blazed behind her eyes.

  His own darkened and he shook his head. “You’re not ready.”

  “For what?”

  He shook his head again, refusing to answer.

  “I survived you running out on me, and my God, I never thought I would. But I did, Fletch. I got over you. I got on with my life.” A boldfaced lie, but she was all about self-preservation in that moment. She released a tired breath. “I can handle whatever this is about. I just want this over with so I can go home.” Pain flashed behind his eyes, and she tried to ignore the way it affected her.

  That determined set to his jaw returned and she squirmed. “You’re not going home. You’re mine, Laney. The sooner you figure that out the better. It’s past time I claimed you.”

  Her jaw unhinged. He wanted to claim her? Just like that. No apology. No explanation. All her hard work to calm down dissolved in an instant.

  “Like hell! Don’t you get it? We’re over. We were over the minute you left without a backward glance.” She clenched her fists so tight her fingernails cut into her palms. “I don’t love you anymore.” Another lie, but it slipped from her lips easily enough. Her need to lash out, to hurt him as much as he hurt her, was all that mattered right then.

  He gripped her shoulders, shaking her roughly. “Don’t you understand? It will never be over between us. Never. You’re mine,” he snarled.

  “I don’t want you.” Another stab through the heart, though she wasn’t sure who her words were hurting more.

  “I’ve thought about you every day, every damn night,” he whispered.

  She turned away. “I don’t believe you.”

  He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “You trusted me once. I need you to trust me now.”

  She stared up at him in disbelief. “Okay. Where were you?” Something she didn’t recognise flickered in his eyes and his lips clamped together. “What have you been doing for the last five years?” she tried again.

  The colour drained from his face and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed several times. “Does it really matter? I’m here now.”

  “Does it matter? Oh my God. Are you kidding me? I searched for you. I thought you were dead, Fletcher! I didn’t think anything else would keep you from me. I’ve cried, screamed and mourned for you. But here you are, perfectly healthy. I was wrong all this time. I never mattered to you…” She had to stop, dangerously close to crying again and she refused to shed another tear for this male.

  He stood abruptly, ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I hurt you. Jesus, you have no idea how much. But you’re wrong. I never wanted to leave.”

  “Then why did you? Where have you been? What have you been doing?”

  He started to back away.

  How was it possible for him to still hurt her? She thought nothing could cause more agony than thinking the love of her life, the male who would be her mate, one day the father of her cubs, had gone forever. But here she was, once again bleeding from the shredded remains of her heart.

  His expression hardened, and he shook his head. “Not yet.” Then he turned his back on her and walked away.

  Chapter 3

  Stripping off his clothes, Fletch shifted mid-run. His paws hit soft packed earth, claws sinking through clean dirt and dried leaves. The smells of the forest and its inhabitants soaked into his subconscious, soothing his wolf, cooling him off and helping clear the maelstrom of emotions flying though his head.

  He hadn’t thought this through.

  The reasons he’d stayed away remained. Nothing had changed. Had he really expected Laney to give up her pack and become his mate with no questions asked? So focused on removing her from danger and driven by the chance to finally claim her, a chance he never thought he’d have. He’d shoved good sense to the back of his mind and buried it. Now the consequences of those actions sat restrained in his cabin, lashing out and demanding answers. Hell, she deserved them.

  But if he told her the reason he disappeared, she’d learn what he’d become and she’d leave.

  He’d lose her all over again.

  The way she’d looked at him back there. Her words cut so damn deep; he’d struggled to draw breath. If she meant what she said…

  I don’t love you anymore.

  If she meant what she said, they were both fucked.

  He’d been a lanky, half-starved, fourteen year old mutt when he’d seen Delaney for the first time. She’d been sitting under a tree, her long multi-coloured hair hanging loose down her back. When he’d stumbled across her the days, weeks…shit, months had morphed into one long, lonely nightmare. He’d been filthy, shirtless. He’d watched her from a distance, unable to look away, and she’d watched him right back. Then she’d held out her hand to offer him one of her sandwiches.

  “You want one?”

  Her voice was soft, gentle. His stomach clenched in hunger, but he shook his head. He knew how this worked. He’d reach for it and she’d pull it away, laughing at him.

  “I have more,” she said.

  Her eyes were round and soft and…kind. Before he knew what he was doing, he stepped closer. She stood, meeting him halfway, and handed him one. Up close, he could see tiny freckles scattered over the bridge of her nose and across her pink cheeks.

  She didn’t make fun of him or sneer. When he finished the sandwich in two big bites, she smiled. He couldn’t help smiling back.

  “I made them myself.” Pride brightened her voice.

  They sure tasted like heaven to Fletch.

  “You can have another one if you like?”

  He nodded, groaning in pleasure when he took his next bite. She giggled, but she wasn’t mocking him. He could tell it made her happy that he liked the food she’d made. She sat back down under her tree and squinted up through the mottled light filtering down on her. She looked like an angel. “What’s your name?”

  She’d given him food, had been kind. He had nothing to give her in return, so he gave her the only thing he possessed: “Fletcher Stone.” His voice sounded scratchy and raw. He guessed he hadn’t talked in a while.

  She smiled again and his belly flipped. “My name is Delaney Jones. What pack are you from?”

  “I… I don’t have a pack.” Shame darkened his cheeks.

  Her brow scrunched. “Why not? All wolves have a pack.”

  He couldn’t meet her eyes. Surely she could see for herself. “They didn’t want me anymore, I guess.”

  “So you live here…all by yourself?”

  “It’s not so bad.”

  She was quiet for several seconds and he got the feeling she knew he was lying. “What happened to your eye?”

  He searched her face for disgust or scorn, but all he saw was curiosity. “My alpha had to teach me a lesson.” He stared at the ground. “I fought with his son. I…hurt him. I deserved what I got.”

  His pack didn’t tolerate weakness and once it became obvious his eye couldn’t be saved, his alpha had thrown him out. Better that than compromise the entire pack with a wolf that wasn’t whole. His father just stood there, hadn’t said a single word to him, hadn’t even looked at him as they led him away.

  She stared at him like she could see everything he wanted to hide—the hurt and shame of his pack’s rejection. Her next words proved it. She turned her bare foot to the side and pointed to a largish, red birthmark on the side of her lower leg. “I was born with this. My dad doesn’t like to look at it either.”

  He couldn’t believe this little scrap of a female had just compared his scarred face and damaged eye to a birthmark, like it was no big deal.

  Right then he thought he might just be a little bit in love with Delaney Jones.

  “Why?” He forced past the lump in his throat. He thought it was kind of nice. It looked sort of like a star.

  “My mom had one the same, but she’s gone now. I think it reminds my dad of her.”

  “Where’d she go?”

  She bit her lip, her large ambe
r eyes glistening. “To heaven.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. He only knew he wanted to see her smile again. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. “You wanna run?”

  She squeezed his fingers and smiled up at him. He sucked in a breath. The little she-wolf truly was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.

  When she’d nodded and gripped his hand tighter, “Mine” had whispered through his mind.

  He hadn’t understood it at the time, this desperate need to be near her, to protect her. But that’s what he’d done, or had tried to. They’d spent the day running and then she’d taken him to her pack, had found her father and convinced him to let a stray, packless mongrel stay. They’d been inseparable after that.

  He owed her everything. If he wanted a future with her, which he did more than his next breath, then he had to be honest with her. He needed to stop running and pray she could still bear to be in the same room with him after she found out the kind of male he’d become. He wouldn’t blame her if she felt otherwise.

  Turning sharply, Fletch headed back. If she decided she couldn’t accept him as her mate, he’d just have to think of another way to protect her. Under no circumstances would she be returning to Anthony, her asshole father and the Black Hills alpha.

  She wasn’t ready to learn the full extent of her father’s deceit. Delaney was nothing but a dollar sign to him, a pawn to retain power and prestige. But right now, Fletch was the enemy and trying to convince her of her old man’s despicable actions would only push her further away and back in harm’s way.

  He needed to regain her trust, make her realise her place was with him, where he could take care of her and protect her. But that would only happen if he started talking. That meant explaining his disappearance, telling her what he’d become, what he’d done.

  The memory of her soft, pliant body beneath his made him groan. Laney wasn’t the same innocent female in need of sheltering and a gentle hand, not anymore. She’d proven that more than once today and wouldn’t accept his word as truth so easily. Not like she used to. He had to earn that right back.

  The cabin was silent when walked back through the door. He took a moment to pull on his jeans and headed to his bedroom. His pulse sped up. Had she somehow gotten loose? But then the sound of Laney’s soft growls reached his ears. Rounding the bedroom door, he spotted her still sitting on the floor, so focused on trying to undo the restraint around her ankle she didn’t hear him come in.