They’re hardly cubs, Abby thought back in mild exasperation. They’re grown wolves. Ready to take on responsibility.They’re just looking for the same thing I am. A mate.
With another disgusted bark in Abby’s mind, and a flashing image of Quentin throwing his head back, mouth open and teeth gleaming as he laughed that deep laugh of his, her wolf smartly marched to the back of her mind and sat down, back turned to Abby. Quentin, was all she thought at Abby, the name laden with significance. Quentin is mate.
Abby dug her nails into her hand. Quentin was wonderful. He was fun. He was sexy. She thought about him all the time. She enjoyed spending time with him. But he wasn’t a wolf shifter. He couldn’t ever be her mate. She had no idea how to have a mate who wasn’t a wolf.
Resolute, ignoring her wolf’s tail lashing inside her head, Abby smiled when one of the strange male wolves half turned and caught her eye. He smiled back, eyes alight with sudden interest. He was a little young, sure—Pup, her wolf murmured again with slight derision—but he was cute, strong, looked sane, and was solvent enough to at least buy a cup of coffee. Those were all good things, right?
Unfortunately, there was no zing as he looked back at her with appreciation. No flare of returned interest inside her, no real desire to go over and say hello to him or his friend. No wish to strike up a conversation, asking where he was from, if he was looking forward to the full moon run.
He just wasn’t Quentin. Dang it. Sighing, she shrugged and looked away.
By the time Abby managed to order and pick up her coffee, a few tables had emptied out inside the popular little place. She snagged a small one by the large front window, settling down to sip her latte and look outside at the bright day and the passersby. The door rattled and squeaked as it was shoved open again, spilling more customers into the small but brisk business.
“You’re from the Black Mesa Pack, aren’t you?” The deep, slightly eager voice sounded above her ear, its words masked by the patter of laughter and conversation nearby.
Abby started, twisting a bit in her seat to look up. It was the young male wolf who’d smiled at her in line. He hovered beside her table, his friend right on his heels, clearly waiting for an invitation to sit down. Manners prompted her to automatically smile again. Drawing breath to speak, she didn’t even get a single word out before being interrupted by another deep voice.
This voice, though, was familiar. So familiar it sent that aching, delicious zing right down into her bones, rattling her teeth and making her wolf sit up to keen attention.
“What’s it to you if she is, pup?” the voice huffed out in a light snarl, as its owner pinned the young wolves with a dark look.
Quentin. Right here, beside her.
Quentin glared at the wolf who hovered too close to his mate. A look more of shock than fear sprinted over the wolf’s face as he took an automatic step back. Abby’s beautiful eyes, wide and guileless, darted between Quentin and the young pups who dared to put their bold moves on her.
Moves it seemed hadn’t worked too well. Or that she’d even really noticed.
Good.
“Just making conversation with a pretty lady is all.” The young wolf said the words in a smooth, conciliatory tone. This might be wolf territory, but Quentin was a bear shifter. He was bigger than either wolf, somewhat older, and much more savvy to a good old-fashioned throw down. He looked like he could fight anyone at any time, and he knew it. The others did, too. He relaxed—until the pup’s next words. “It’s the hunter’s moon run tonight. It’s something just for our kind, you know?”
No real menace underlaid the wolf’s words, who clearly was appreciative enough of Quentin’s greater size and strength to not really push it. Yet a flicker of challenge stirred there. Enough of a flicker to bring Quentin’s bear roaring back to the surface, ready to take out any fool who thought to get in his way. He knew his eyes were likely beginning to glow, as did all shifters whose animals came so close to the surface they threatened to dominate their human side.
It would be so nice to show this young upstart who was really in charge here. Who was the boss of the situation. Who was really Abby’s mate.
Yet years of being the oldest brother in a clan of rowdy bear shifters, not to mention the fact that he was indeed right in the middle of wolf territory, tempered his response as he forcefully shoved his bear back down. He opted for a charged verbal response, while keeping his body language non-attacking. “And what kind would that be? The young and disrespectful?”
With that, Quentin dismissed the pups by turning his back on them. It was a clear sign of mild contempt in the shifter world, the willingness to turn one’s back on any perceived threat or enemies. He’d basically just called their bluff and demonstrated they weren’t even worthy of a defensive stance.
Abby’s lips trembled. Quentin let his own mouth curve up into a smile. He knew her well enough to know that she was covering up a grin. Buying herself some time, she lifted her coffee to her lips and took another sip. Smile abruptly wiped off his face, he stared at those full, pretty pink lips as they melded themselves against the rim of the mug. Just like the way they sometimes wrapped around his—
“Quentin. What are you doing here?” Her voice lilted out against the background clamor of the busy place as she looked up at him with those mesmerizing eyes.
He took a deep, slow breath in through his nose before he answered. All the long drive over the mountain into Durango, he’d had the opportunity to think about his impending actions. Since he’d charged off half-cocked, egged on by Cortez’s ribbing—and darn that troublemaking little brother of his, trying to stir up drama and reaction as usual—he realized he’d get to town many hours before the run actually began. He’d passed the Black Mesa Pack den, headquartered north of town, rolling down his windows and trying to scent Abby as he cruised by. Knowing he’d look idiotic, if not somewhat threatening, if he tried to go onto the property this early, he’d opted instead to head to town and take a walk to cool himself off.
When she’d called him, he’d almost driven off the road at the sight of her name on the screen. But he made himself let it go to voicemail. He wasn’t sure yet how to approach letting her know he’d be there tonight. Telling her on the phone definitely wasn’t the way to do it.
Besides, he really liked the fact that she’d called him. Then texted. Because it meant Abby wasn’t with another guy. She wasn’t going to find a mate at this full moon run, or even just a casual liaison. Abby was his, and he knew it. She did too, deep down inside. He’d realized he just needed to be cool about the situation. Not as cool as he had been. No, he’d been too laid back about his feelings for Abby. The woman had to know he was her mate, and he’d let her know loud and clear. But he didn’t need to tear up a coffeeshop in downtown Durango because some juvenile wolves thought they had a shot with a magnificent she-wolf like Abby. Abby, whom he’d unexpectedly and very thrillingly had scented as he rambled down Main Street. Her flash of bright gold hair as she sat in the window had caught his eye when he snapped his head around trying to find her.
She was a gem, Abby Kenyon was. And she was his.
His bear grumbled at him, but Quentin held firm. He didn’t need to give any wolves any more ammunition to think that bear shifters were oafish, always ready to fight, and just too brutish for a wolf shifter. He’d simply prove to them all tonight the exact opposite. Calmly, he replied to Abby. “I have things to do here. Errands. I didn’t expect to run into you. I thought you were busy this weekend,” he couldn’t resist adding. He wasn’t going to pick a fight with any wolves, but he also wasn’t above teasing his sexy little Abby some more.
That cute little red flush tiptoed across her cheeks. “I was, ah, I mean—” she tripped over herself.
Damn, she was beautiful. Those curves, that voice, the strength he knew rested within her, despite her current flustered state. Quentin enjoyed the sight of her for another long moment, drinking her in, before he rescued her from her own floun
dering. “I saw you sitting here and decided to stop in to say hi.”
His voice was low, but expectation thrummed along it. Abby was caught by that note, her eyes snapping over to his and her mouth abruptly shutting. She swallowed at the expression on his face, which he knew was suddenly taut and filled with a longing.
And an implacable certainty.
“I thought,” he said more slowly, dragging out the words and deepening his voice, “I’d come in for just a minute so you could see me. So you could get my scent.”
Abby swallowed again. Her nostrils flared a little as she took his scent in. Quentin was aware of the two young wolves, still at his back, watching everything with what was likely great interest. But they stayed silent.
“So you could know I mean for my scent to be with you as you go the the hunter’s moon run tonight, Abby.” Quentin’s voice dropped to such a low register he knew no human ears could hear him. “So you could know the truth.”
A short pause held them together. The sounds of the little coffeeshop bustled and rolled over them, but the space surrounding Quentin and Abby was like a tiny, insulated island of quiet.
Of anticipation.
“What—what truth is that?” Her voice wavered as she spoke, but it was from curiosity. No fear touched her words. Only what he hoped was a tightly-leashed hope.
“The truth,” he breathed, leaning down closer to her, “that I’ll be giving all those wolves a run for their money tonight, beautiful. Because you won’t be running alone. No way in hell am I allowing that.”
This time, he was so close to her he could hear the little click in her throat as she swallowed again, could feel the heat of her skin pulsing out toward him. Could see the fathomless depths of those brilliant aqua blue eyes of hers, locked on his like he was the only man in the room. The only man in the world.
She looked as stunned as he’d felt earlier, when the truth of what the run meant had hit him. When the realization that he had to be there to run with her had settled onto him.
Satisfied, Quentin straightened up. Tossing her a sudden grin, he forced himself to step away from her and turn toward the door. The two young wolves, mouths now slightly open and eyebrows raised, just stared at him. Quentin simply said in a cheerful voice, “See you tonight, Abby. Boys,” he added, nodding at the other wolves.
It half killed him to leave her sitting there with those young pups, but he knew they had zero chance with her, no matter what they might try to say. Not when he’d seen the same hunger in her face he’d felt while talking to her.
The hunger of a mate, ready to run under the full moon with the only one strong enough and fast enough to catch her.
5
Abby held her breath for a long moment as she glanced again at the eastern horizon, waiting for the giant hunter’s moon to rise above the shadowed ridges of the mountains. A definite chill braced the air around her, heightening the scents of the quaking aspen trees and the stately ponderosa pines that ringed the huge meadow. Letting her breath out in a long exhale, she took in an equally deep inhale, closing her eyes as she allowed her wolf to pull in the multitude of layered smells through her sensitive shifter nose.
No question about it, autumn was her favorite season. It seemed like it had just fallen with a decisive snap in the last twenty-four hours. The air had turned super brisk, the sky so bright and clean it practically shone, and suddenly it seemed that every single deciduous tree in town had burst into flaming color overnight. Reds and golds sprinkled through the streets and dashed up the hillsides, causing Abby’s heart to pound with an extra ounce of joy and a nearly constant smile to stretch over her face with unfettered delight.
The only thing she had missed all day was Quentin. Then she had seen him, and her day had exploded into an even more complicated depth of emotion, whirling around inside her as his huge presence had filled the entire room in the coffeeshop earlier. Their interaction had been so brief, yet the enormity of the bond between them had been undeniable even within those few moments. Her wolf had danced and hummed in her mind, gleeful at the knowledge that her mate had come for her.
He’d been so—so manly. So bear shifter manly huge and amazing. The two wolves also there had faded completely out of Abby’s consciousness, so much so that she was literally surprised to see them still standing there after Quentin had left. She was sure they were perfectly nice, but she hadn’t given them another thought the rest of the day.
Quentin had been the only shifter on her mind since she’d seen him, his scent lingering with her all day. I’ll be giving all those wolves a run for their money tonight, beautiful. Because you won’t be running alone. No way in hell am I allowing that. His words drifted through her head, echoing over and over.
He wouldn’t really show up. Would he? With all these wolves? A lone bear shifter, ready to run among hundreds of wolves? That was crazy. He hadn’t meant it. He was just saying it because—because he was Quentin. Because he liked her. Not because he was—because they were—
She could hardly finish the thought, even to herself.
Because they were mates.
Her wolf danced and howled in her mind, slamming image after image at her of Quentin roaming the mountains in his enormous grizzly bear form. Mate. Mate, she insisted, gainsaying Abby’s own thoughts. Abby glanced around the meadow. No. Dang it. Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about other shifters. Not even Quentin. She couldn’t think about him. He wouldn’t be here. This was the annual hunter’s moon pack run, the largest one in the country.
Tonight was all about wolf shifters. It had to be. She didn’t know any other way.
Narrowing her eyes as her own wolf’s high-pitched howl, then almost vicious snarl, rang through her head so sharply the sound of it hurt, Abby let her glance slowly pan over the many wolves in attendance from different packs. From as close as the neighboring affiliate pack to as far as those who had come down from the northern reaches of Montana and even the far western coastal forests of Washington state, wolves mingled, prowled, and laughed with one another, every single one of them waiting for the rising full moon and the call of the Black Mesa pack alpha to begin the hunt.
The hunt which for some of the wolves here would be for a mate.
“A lot of likely-looking candidates for you here, Abby.” She startled slightly at the deep, friendly voice at her shoulder. Turning her head, she smiled at Sean as he walked toward her with his arm casually flung over Megan’s shoulders. His tone was easy, his stance relaxed as he held his mate close to him. There was no question that the two of them would run together tonight. As a mated pair, they would enjoy the evening together before slipping off to some secluded glade to have their own fun. Abby smiled a bit wistfully, even as she nodded in agreement.
“Definitely a lot of new guys here,” she said, glancing out at all the strange wolves again before she looked back at Sean and Megan. Her best friend gave her a far more dubious glance than Sean had. But she said nothing. “I’m sure they’ll be a lot of new mate pairings tonight,” Abby casually added, trying to sound excited about that.
To her utter shock, fierce growls laced her words, deepening her voice and rippling through her entire body with a tensing effect. Sean reared backward, his hackles raising more from startlement than any actual defensiveness. Megan rubbed a soothing hand along his arm, murmuring, “She’s just on edge. Sometimes there’s a bit of expectation at this run. Your home pack’s hunter’s moon runs were probably a lot more casual than this one, weren’t they?”
Abby rapidly blinked her eyes, breathing steadily to settle herself and her suddenly outraged wolf, who smacked her mind with angry lashes of her tail. “Wow, I’m sorry, Sean. That wasn’t directed at you.” She shook her head, trying to clear it. “I don’t know where that came from. Megan’s right. I’m a little on edge, I guess.”
Sean shrugged and waved it off, the automatic wolf glow of his eyes settling back into their normal human color.
“True.” He grinned down a
t Megan, his equanimity restored. “Our hunter’s moon runs were a lot smaller, pretty much just for fun. It’s a good thing you never met some other guy during one of these, love,” he added, a possessive tone creeping into his voice as he leaned down to soundly kiss Megan on the lips.
Abby watched with more wistful longing. The image of a huge, dark silvertip of a bear rumbled through her mind even as she tried to shove him out.
After she could come up for air, Megan answered in a teasing tone, “Definitely not. No, I was holding out for a certain sexy guy from the big city.” She smiled at her mate, allowing her own wolf to roughen her voice with a similar amount of possessiveness at the simple pleasure of her mate’s existence.
Abby bit her lip and sighed to herself. She wanted that. More than anything. She wanted to be mated, settled, part of the well-working team that was her pack. Settled with a wolf shifter mate of her own.
Her wolf howled so angrily inside her that Abby gasped. An answering gasp rippled through the crowd around her as her wolf continued to howl inside her. Mortified, she fought back against her wolf with every ounce of strength she had, fighting for control, closing her eyes for a second as she struggled. But the gasps around the clearing rippled out to every edge, leaving in their wake only a stark, shocked silence. Her eyes flew open, expecting to see everyone staring at her. Instead, the eyes of every single shifter in the glade, several hundred of them, were fixed on a point behind her. Even Megan and Sean had turned, also staring. Abby felt the sudden danger twisting and rippling throughout the glade. The instant nervousness and protectiveness of every single wolf there.
Someone was here who didn’t belong.
Whirling, Abby looked in the direction everyone else faced.
Quentin Walker, bear shifter, strode through the glen full of wary, agitated wolf shifters.
Heading straight for her. Just as he’d promised.
Abby’s heart slammed into her throat, stifling another gasp as what seemed like a bucket of cold water, followed by a hot, sizzling sensation ripped through her. It took her a long, disorienting moment to find the exact emotion she felt. To name it. Her wolf still howled inside her, this time with an exultant thrill that surged through her with every beat of her heart. She recognized the feeling for what it was.
Summer Shifter Nights Page 27
