Half-breed Wolf

by Shiloh Saddler

  Lance shook his head. “No, sir.” A run would be nice if I could shift. He didn’t want to bring that up though. He let out the yawn he’d been holding back. “I’m tired.”

  “Of course,” Mr. Sawyer said. “Would you like me to show you to one of the guest rooms?”

  Against his better judgment, Lance followed the Alpha to a guest bedroom on the first floor. A bed sounded much better than sleeping in a pile of hay in a barn.

  “There is a lamp on the bedside table,” Mr. Sawyer said. “There’s an extra blanket at the foot of the bed if you get cold. Although I know shifters are hot blooded.”

  The man rambled on stating the obvious.

  Lance pulled back the covers and sat on the bed, hoping he’d take the hint and leave.

  He didn’t.

  Mr. Sawyer watched him with a warm gaze. Such a long stare should have made him uncomfortable, frightened, but it actually put him at ease. His stiff spine relaxed and he peeled off his red shirt, trying not to cringe as the material brushed over his wounds.

  Despite his best efforts to remain stoic Mr. Sawyer sensed his pain.

  The white man lit the lamp by the bed and sat next to him. He took one look at Lance’s back and growled. The throaty noise made the half-breed’s heart leap over several beats.

  “Did the patrollers do this to you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Mr. Sawyer’s hand touched his bare shoulder, the heat infusing into his skin. “You have many old scars, too.”

  “Yes.” The Alpha had not asked about them. He’d only stated fact. Lance did not feel compelled to share or explain.

  Silence engulfed the room. For a moment all he heard was their breathing.

  “It is a shame you weren’t able to shift to avoid the brutes.”

  “My back should be nothing to you,” Lance responded with a biting tone. “I’m sure you see whip scars all the time.”

  “Yes, but not on this plantation. I don’t need whips to maintain order and loyalty.”

  Lance pressed his lips together. Likely a lie. White men knew how to lie very well; could usually lie with a straight face.

  “I will see to your wounds.” That came out as an order.

  Gooseflesh rose on his arms. Lance braced himself for the sting of alcohol or the application of oil.

  Mr. Sawyer’s warm breath fanned his back. His tongue licked across one of the deeper cuts.

  Lance inhaled sharply, shock overpowering his sense of pain.

  “I’m sorry if this hurts,” Mr. Sawyer’s soothing voice relaxed him again. “It will only hurt for a second. I promise.”

  Slowly and carefully he licked all of Lance’s fresh wounds. The moist softness of his tongue eased his discomfort. “My saliva will speed the healing. I wish I could take away all your pain.”

  Lance’s Alpha could also heal wounds, but he only nursed the warriors and their families. He hadn’t cared if Lance suffered. He didn’t realize all Alpha’s had this special ability. Mr. Sawyer’s large hands wrapped around his shoulders and he pulled him gently onto the mattress. “Rest. Everything will look better in the morning.”

  I don’t believe that. Lance did not try to sit up. The pillow felt too good under his head. He turned his neck and glanced at Mr. Sawyer’s hooded eyes.

  “You need to rest, too,” he mumbled.

  “Yes. I’m afraid healing drains me of energy.”

  Guilt slid through his insides. Mr. Sawyer grew weak from taking care of his wounds. “You may lie here with me if you like,” Lance said in a small voice. The Alpha did not look like he’d be able to walk far without passing out.

  “Thank you.” He shucked his shirt and lay on the bed. The weight and heat of his body made Lance’s heart thrum. The Alpha closed his eyes and soon his breathing evened indicating he was asleep.

  Despite his exhaustion, Lance stayed awake, staring up at the ceiling. Desire and gratitude for the man next to him warmed his chest. Mr. Sawyer murmured something intelligible and rolled over on his side, draping his arm around Lance’s middle.

  His pulse raced and his cock swelled. The man held him tight, and Lance relaxed in his embrace. Confined but comfortable, he let his heavy lids finally close.

  I shouldn’t feel this attracted to a white man. Damn it. The Alpha held power over him, and he hadn’t even used his influence.

  What would happen to him when the sun rose? Being a half-breed wolf shifter he didn’t belong anywhere. Without any other options, if Mr. Sawyer wanted him to stay he would. The man had made no move to dominate him or humiliate him. Life here would be better than it had been in his pack even if everyone thought he was Mr. Sawyer’s slave. He’d gotten used to serving his Alpha. At least taking care of Mr. Sawyer would have benefits.

  Deep down Lance hoped the dominant wolf would see to his needs—all of his needs.

  Chapter 4

  Rays of sun streaming through the window yanked Oliver out of his sleep. He blinked momentarily disoriented. He wasn’t sleeping in his bed upstairs and there was another warm body next to him. A man. He smiled at Lance. The shifter’s skin gleamed redder in the daylight reminding him of a Texas dirt road in the shade.

  “Hey, how do you feel?”

  Lance’s gaze traveled across his bare chest. “Much better. Thank you.” His husky voice stirred Oliver’s longing. He wanted to lie next to him and hold him for another hour, but he had things to attend to. He stood. “Stay here as long as you want.” Bending down, he grabbed his shirt off the floor.

  “Where are you going?”

  Oliver licked his bottom lip. It sounded like the submissive didn’t want him to leave. “I was going to go for a run since I didn’t go last night. Do you want to come with me?”

  Lance sat up and yawned. “Yes, I would like to go for a run but…” his voice trailed off and he looked to the side, sheepish.

  Did the man not want him to see his wolf form? Was it painful for a half-breed to shift? Oliver had not met any other half-shifters before.

  He took Lance’s chin in his hands, holding him still while he claimed his lips. “Please,” Oliver said, kissing him again. “I want to see your wolf. Shift for me.”

  He cringed at the forcefulness in his voice. He hadn’t meant to let his Alpha influence shine through.

  Lance did not shy away from him as he had expected. Instead the man grinned. He stood and pulled down his leather leggings. “Yes, sir,” he breathed.

  For a long minute Lance stood naked before him. His lean muscles shaped his desirable build and Oliver sensed he’d be sleek and agile in wolf form. He had powerful legs for his smaller stature. Appraising the shifter from the ankles up, he took in all the man had to offer, eyeing his cock like it already belonged to him.

  Lance inhaled sharply but did not move from where he’d planted his feet, shoulder width apart, strong and proud. Yes, Lance had every right to be proud. His body would make every female swoon from miles around.

  Except, lucky for him, the Omega wasn’t interested in finding a wife.

  Lance closed his eyes and dropped to all fours. Oliver instantly thought of what he wanted to do with the wolf in that position. He mentally groaned. Later. When the time was right.

  Copper fur sprouted along Lance’s arms and legs a few shades lighter than his skin. His muscles rearranged themselves beneath the furry covering, nose lengthening into a snout. Once fully shifted, Lance sat and tipped his head to the side, revealing his neck.

  A heady thrill raced through Oliver’s veins. He pulled off his clothes so fast his trousers tore in the process. A small price to pay to cozy up to Lance wolf to wolf. Once naked his shift sped through him. He padded over to Lance on his large white paws. Towering over the smaller wolf, he had to look down to see Lance’s brown eyes. He nudged Lance’s neck and the wolf stiffened, every muscle turning to granite. Did Lance think he would bite? The poor shifter must be used to cruel treatment to have so little trust.

  His long pink tongue snaked out
and he licked Lance’s neck. Lance relaxed one lick at a time until he’d turned to putty under his ministrations. The haze in Lance’s eyes forced Oliver to stop. He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. If Lance agreed to be his mate, he wanted the man to offer himself freely not out of some animalistic need.

  Time to go for a run.

  Lance whined, clearly not wanting Oliver to stop.

  Without looking back, Oliver pranced out the door, tail straight and swishing from side to side. He bounded down the hallway to his office, jumping out the window he always kept open. Once standing in the lush lawn, he spun around in time to see Lance jump out the window after him.

  Which direction? Lance asked.

  The sprawling estate was his private territory. He yearned to explore and show off every acre to the half-breed wolf. He gazed toward the right to the woods. There they’d be secluded from prying eyes. It would give him more of a chance with the shy wolf. Follow me.

  Lance complied, his soft steps matching Oliver’s own although the smaller wolf respectfully remained a few paces behind. They hadn’t gone far before he scented a deer. Breakfast. He raced after the deer, inhaling the gamey scent as he ran. The trees blurred along the sides of his vision as he focused solely on his prey. The frightened buck noticed his presence and tried to leap away but it was too late. Oliver lunged, jaws locking on the buck’s throat. Blood gushed into his mouth as lifeblood gushed out of the deer.

  The buck dropped to the ground, still.

  Breathing hard, Oliver licked the blood from his lips and for the first time since the chase began glanced around for Lance. The smaller wolf lay on the ground a stone’s throw away patiently waiting.

  Oliver’s stomach grumbled reminding him neither of them had eaten. He took a bite out of the hindquarters and then yipped for Lance to join him.

  He’s your kill. Lance said respectfully.

  An Alpha takes care of his own.

  Lance hesitated as if debating what he’d meant by those words.

  You are a lone wolf. You have no pack.

  Yet. Oliver ground his teeth. He didn’t wish his father ill will, but he couldn’t wait to lead his pack. There would be many new changes under his leadership. It was time to leave the stone age behind and embrace the future. If they accepted him as their Alpha then they’d have to also accept Lance as his mate.

  He dragged the deer closer to Lance. Eat.

  Lance complied and Oliver wondered if he’d done so because he’d been issued an order. Wasn’t the wolf used to an Alpha taking care of him?

  Halfway through their shared meal a new scent hung heavy on the air. The hair on his back spiked and he growled low in his throat.

  Lance spit out the bite in his mouth, eyeing him with caution.

  Another wolf, Oliver explained.

  Snout in the air, Lance inhaled. His eyes bulged and he sidled closer to Oliver as if seeking protection. M-my old pack.

  Chapter Five

  Lance snarled. He’d thought he’d never scent them again. They’d kicked him out of the pack. Why had they ventured outside their territory? Were they spying on him? Following him? The deer he’d just consumed threatened to revolt. Mighty Elk probably wasn’t happy he’d shifted so soon. The stony hardness of his eyes had told him the Alpha hoped the curse permanent. Oliver had come to his recue. A lump sprouted in his throat. Would he do so again, or was that too much to ask from a near stranger?

  Mighty Elk emerged from the Ash trees to his left with his Beta Swift Hunter by his side. He’d never be able to hide from them even if he managed to get away. Swift Hunter could track a mosquito in a swamp.

  The four of them faced each other. Oliver barred his teeth first. You’re in my territory. I don’t tolerate trespassers.

  Mighty Elk stood tall, unflinching. What are you doing with him?

  Oliver’s head snapped to Lance and then back to Mighty Elk and Swift Hunter. Why do you care?

  He’s trouble, Mighty Elk warned. Best to leave him alone.

  Lance’s claws dug into the dirt. He would stand his ground. He had every right to be here, and his former Alpha had no claim to him any longer. He didn’t have the right to order him around.

  Oliver growled. I don’t take kindly to others telling me what to do. How do you know Lance?

  He used to be in my pack.

  Used to be?

  Lance lowered his head slightly, ashamed at being exiled.

  I forced him out for the good of the others. That’s why I’m warning you to stay away from him.

  Oliver growled. He’s mine now. Get out while you’re still breathing.

  Lance’s heart thudded hard and fast. Swift Hunter eyed Oliver and sneered just waiting for Mighty Elk to give him the order to attack. Fur would fly on account of him. The acrid taste in his mouth intensified. They weren’t fighting because of him. They were fighting over him. If he was willing to protect a worthless half-breed then Oliver must not be a better man than he originally thought.

  You’re threatening me? Indignation weighted Mighty Elk’s voice. Who are you? A lone wolf! I rule a pack. You’re nothing.

  Oliver advanced toward the two Indian wolves. If you continue to push me I will show you what this lone wolf is capable of.

  Mighty Elk laughed. I should kill you and claim this territory for myself. My pack can expand. Mighty Elk raised his snout and sniffed. Slaves. You have a plantation hidden behind these trees.

  I run a plantation ,yes.

  This gets even better. Indians can keep slaves to you know. He sneered at Lance the evil smile in his eyes settling an ice block in Lance’s chest. I’ll leave you for the crows, Omega, and run the whole plantation myself.

  You’ll be the one left for the crows. The barbs in Oliver’s voice drew back Mighty Elk’s attention.

  Lance didn’t breathe any easier, though. He knew that if Oliver lost this fight his former Alpha may finish him off too just for the fun of it. He wished he’d never been dragged to Oliver’s property. He was only bad luck. That was something his old pack got right. He was a worthless wolf.

  Still, things had gone too far now. Mighty Elk had Oliver cornered and that might have been his intention in the first place. Backing down was not possible, and the way the challenge had been brought in front of observers required an immediate solution. Mighty Elk always fought with either surprise or mass numbers on his side. With only his Beta to back him up he clearly hoped intimidation or surprise would win the battle.

  Oliver flexed his hind paws slightly. Are you ready to meet my jaws, then, and embrace death?

  Mighty Elk snarled. Big words for only a runt to back you up.

  Leave Lance out of this. The fight is wolf to wolf.

  The death here will be yours, Lone One. Finish him.

  Swift Hunter stepped in front of his Alpha. Crouching low, he growled and prepared to spring.

  We will see about— Oliver’s hind legs launched him forward like a fur-covered bullet, breaking his sentence mid-phrase. For just the thinnest of moments, he had the advantage of total surprise. Instead of trying to rend the larger wolf’s throat, something he could have countered with a quick shift of his forelegs or a re-angling of his jaws, the smaller wolf deliberately overshot in his lunge, delivering a ripping slash with his jaws to the shoulder of the larger wolf’s right foreleg. Swift Hunter’s teeth grazed Oliver’s side in a return strike.

  Lance’s heart drummed in a rapid beat, threatening to breakthrough his chest. He stood motionless not wanting to watch the gruesome scene unfold and yet unable to tear himself away. He loved this wolf. He barely knew him, but this lone Alpha was risking his life for his honor.

  And right to keep his property, Lance added as a second thought although he had sensed that Oliver would have tangled with his old pack leaders without that equaling into the equation.

  Swift Hunter launched himself forward in his own return rush, trying to bring the smaller wolf to a grapple he was almost sure to win, but his lung
e was ragged and awkward, ill-timed with his crippled front leg tucked up to his belly, and Oliver sidestepped it smoothly, delivering another passing, slashing rip with his fangs to the larger wolf’s side.

  Every drop of blood visible on Oliver’s white fur pierced his heart. The only thing that kept him from howling was the fact Swift Hunter was actually bloodier. Wolf battles were always a nasty sight but never before had Lance had such a vested interest in the outcome, in those participating. His life, his future, was in the balance with each strike.

  Suddenly Swift Hunter’s right hind leg collapsed under him as well, sending him rolling and tumbling into the blood-stained snow, unable to even hold to his paws.

  And the crows have their feast. Oliver panted, a bit sadly even with victory literally at his feet. He turned to the other wolf, his muzzle dripping from the blow that had ended Swift Hunter’s life. His fur remained ruffled, blood streaming down side onto the forest floor. And will you continue the challenge, or do you concede that I have won right of place here?

  Lance held his breath, not even daring to pray that the Alpha would be satisfied at losing his Beta. His Beta was like his brother. This had gotten even more personal for Mighty Elk. The wolf would now duel with Oliver and overcome him, Oliver being in a weakened state.

  Mighty Elk stared at Swift Hunter’s still corpse. You have won this contest. He paced backward slowly, uncertain. I will not continue the fight today. I must mourn. But know, Lone Wolf, I could take you. Swift Hunter was too full of himself.

  I don’t want to take over leadership of your pack. I want to be left alone.

  Left alone with him, Mighty Elk corrected not even bothering to look in Lance’s direction.

  Yes. He is under my protection.

  Lance held his breath. Whether Oliver knew it or not those were baiting words.

  We should have killed him when we had the chance. He is bad medicine.

  Oliver growled loudly. If I ever see you even one claw into my territory again I will attack.