Her Pack
Page 2
Alarick sensed Farkas wanted to retort, say he was not frilly, but with a harsh look, the man beside him quieted. “I got a diner to run, Billy, so let’s get to the point. What’s going on here?” The cattler gestured for them to follow, and it took them fifteen minutes to walk through the fields where the cows grazed before they came upon the so-called strange occurrence.
A small creature, a prairie dog, made even smaller due to the large chunk of it that was missing. By the look of it, it was dragged out of its hole, or even caught before it could make the dash back into its underground home. Most of its stomach was gone, all the organs too. The only thing remaining was its head, its four paws, and its backside. Blood had seeped into the dirt below it, staining the grass.
“This is the fourth bugger I’ve found like this in the past few days. The police won’t even pay me any attention, but you—you can…sense things. This ain’t no coyote. The bite marks are too big,” Billy explained.
Alarick now knew why he kept the shotgun ready, and he exchanged a look with Farkas. Farkas was busy sniffing the air, attempting to do it as nonchalantly as he could, though Mason still noticed it. He chose not to address it.
Kneeling beside the creature, Alarick inhaled deeply. It wasn’t a coyote, Billy was right about that. The scent…it couldn’t possibly be another wolf, could it? He spotted a strand of red, caught by the rodent’s tiny claws. Long fur, if it was a wolf. The scene was too old, the wind had carried most of the scent away. It was hard to distinguish the scent of a new wolf, but there was something there that made him feel…strange.
After he stood, Billy asked, “Well?”
“None of your herd was injured?” he asked.
The man shook his head. “Not a one. I don’t get it. There’s always stragglers, ones that don’t like to walk with the herd. Why would something be going after these little guys when I got cows that would make a better meal?” He frowned. “I am grateful that my herd wasn’t hurt, but I don’t want to take chances. I don’t want this to escalate. I can’t keep watch over them every hour of the day.”
The herder was right, of course, but Alarick had to do his best to assure him, “I’ll look into it. For now, get rid of the carcass. It might only attract it back.” His words seemed to please Billy, for he kept nodding along, hanging on each sentence like it held all the answers to the universe.
They returned to the truck, climbing in. Alarick backed out of the driveway, waiting until the house was in the rearview mirror before he said, “You smelled it, didn’t you?”
Farkas said, “A wolf. It was faint, but the traces were there. And that hair…”
“Yep. We’re definitely dealing with a rogue wolf.” Alarick let out an explosive sigh. Maybe he’d take them running tonight, after sundown, try to do some tracking. It had been a long while since he’d stretched his inner wolf’s legs. The beast was constantly dying to come out, but he never wanted to take any chances here. Ninety-nine percent of the time, the wolf was shuttered inside.
“What if it’s a female?” Farkas said, his whole expression lighting up at the mere thought of a possible female wolf in the area. It was far-fetched enough there was a lone wolf hunting prairie dogs in old Mason’s fields, even more outlandish to say it was a female.
Then again, the smell…
“It’s not going to be a female,” Alarick replied, nearly certain. He was only nearly certain because there was a part of him that always hoped. The wolf part. His wolf wanted to mate, an instinct he could never truly get away from, and a human female was not the same. They didn’t connect on a deeper level, there was nothing inside a human female that called out to his wolf.
“If we find the wolf, what will you do?” Farkas asked, side-eyeing him. The decisions were always up to Alarick. In their small pack, he was the alpha, the leader. Farkas and Grimm usually didn’t question him.
Then again, he hadn’t had to make many decisions. He did take out a loan and buyout the diner from the last owner, but it was the biggest decision he’d made since they came here.
“I don’t know,” Alarick finally said, gripping the wheel tighter. “Depends on how the outsider responds, I guess. If he’s violent, we might have to put him down, but I don’t think he is, otherwise he would’ve gone after bigger prey. Even if we take him in, there’s no guarantee he’d want to say. Some are just lone wolfs.”
And that was something Alarick could not fathom. What kind of wolf wanted to be on their own? What kind of pack animal could be on their own? It went against nature itself, and it was nowhere near as safe as belonging to a pack. Any pack member would die to protect their own.
“Hmm.” Farkas shrugged as Alarick pulled the truck into a parking spot in the front of the diner. “I guess we’ll find out.” He slid out of the vehicle, instantly freezing when his feet hit the pavement below.
Alarick hopped out, and in spite of himself, he did the same. The hairs on the back of his neck stood, and he lifted his nose in the air, inhaling. His eyes moved to the diner’s windows as he said quietly, “I don’t think we’ll have to go far.” He stalked to the front of his truck, glancing to his beta. “Go around back. If the wolf runs, I don’t want him getting away. We’ll take him to the house if we have to.”
He waited until Farkas disappeared around the back of the building, flexing his muscles. Alarick knew he could not make a scene in front of customers, but then again, he was sure he could always think up an explanation afterwards. Everyone in the town loved him; it wouldn’t be hard.
His feet drew him to the door, and he once again breathed in. The wolfish scent was…slightly different. It couldn’t possibly be—no, until he got in there and scoped the newcomer out, he would not hope. He wasn’t like Farkas.
Alarick went inside, ready to act in a moment’s notice. His gaze surveyed the seating area. It was full of the typical Sunday morning crowd, but there was one head that caught his eye. One head with long, blood-red hair.
Damn.
Farkas was right. It was a female.
He felt his blood run hot, his wolf threatening to escape. Alarick wanted her on sight, such as it was with wolves, but his thoughts of taking her vanished the moment she turned her light, fiery gaze in his direction. And then, not even five seconds later, she bolted.
Chapter Three – Maia
Her luck was utterly rotten. She’d only eaten one slice of her toast before she knew something wasn’t right. Maia paused, her hand dropping the second slice as her nose picked it up. Her nose always picked things up first. And, like a foolish pup, she’d waited until she saw him to run.
She’d waited until he’d entered through the front door of the diner to get up and sprint towards the back. She didn’t even give herself time to study him—having grown up around wolves, she was not as weak in the knees as other human females would be in their presence—she ran, hoping, praying there was a back door somewhere.
Maia’s stomach rumbled; that freaking toast tasted so good, she was sorry to leave it. She wanted ten more helpings, but now she’d never get it. She nearly knocked herself into the waitress—who seemed to be the only one working, save for the cook—as she flipped herself over the counter and dashed into the kitchen, ignoring the girl’s shouts and the cook’s confused but amused laughter.
The kitchen smelled of grease and sweat, and Maia gagged as she spotted a back door, right past an office and, from what its metal door looked like, a large freezer. Luckily the back exit wasn’t locked, and she threw herself outside, ready to shed her dress and take off in a run as long as there were no witnesses.
But the instant the outside air hit her, Maia stumbled to a halt. Another wolf stood before her, as if he’d expected her to run. Her heart leapt to her throat, and she could feel nothing but the urge to run.
If she’d run from Jackson’s pack only to be caught by a small town group, she was screwed. Her luck was a legendary kind of awful.
Maia’s eyes took in the wolf quickly. This wolf looked…
nothing like the ones she’d seen before, nothing like the man who’d walked inside the diner’s front door. His face was recently shaven, his hair styled in a faux hawk. He wore a button-down blue shirt and jeans that practically looked new. Still, even though he looked like a preppy boy from one of those human movies about college and romance, she knew he was a wolf.
His eyes were a pretty hazel, and they ate her up just like she knew they would. What she did not anticipate him saying was, “I knew it.” The words were growled out, rumbling from his chest.
She did not wait to hear him say more. Maia spun on her feet, sprinting to the left, trying to make it around him, but he had the advantage of surprise. He was stronger than he looked, too. His arms grabbed her, wrapped around her, pinning her to his body, her back against his front. No matter how hard she struggled, she could not break free. Turning at this inopportune point in time would be useless.
He had her.
“Let me go,” she said, baring her teeth. Maia knew she did not sound as tough as she wanted. Despite how hard she fought, her inner wolf wanted to give up, give in, but she refused to let it. She would not be caught now, not after everything that had happened.
The man was tall, yet he still managed to bury his nose in her hair as he said, “Afraid I can’t do that, alpha’s orders.”
Alpha.
Of course.
Maia had known the second she’d looked at the first wolf. Instinct.
She would not be caught.
Struggling more, she fought to free herself, digging her boot heel into his foot. As he grimaced behind her, she started to shout, figuring any help from the human populace of the town, as small as they were, would be of great use. The alleyway where the back door had led her was empty, save for them. “Somebody, help—”
The one holding her muttered, “I’m sorry for this.” He wrapped an arm around her neck and started to squeeze. With his strength, it was impossible to fight the wave of unconsciousness sweeping toward her like a stormy tide.
Maia was out within ten seconds.
Chapter Four – Farkas
He couldn’t believe it. He honest to God could not believe their luck. Yes, Farkas had always been hopeful, but to have a female wolf stumble into their lives? His years and years of prayers had been answered. She was theirs. She had to be. This was fate, destiny, or whatever else one could call it.
She would not get away from him, from them.
Once she was passed out, Farkas heaved her into his arms, her dress riding up her legs. It was a bit of clothing, a particular detail he knew he should not pay much attention to while in public. In private, though, it would be an entirely different story.
Her head fell against his chest, and he studied her. Pale skin, almost like porcelain. Red hair whose hue was so deep it was near maroon. Full, luscious lips that Farkas wanted to taste immediately. His inner wolf wanted to claim her here and now, but he knew he couldn’t. First, the humans might see. Second, she was not his to claim. She would be Alarick’s, then his and Grimm’s.
Alarick stormed into the alley, running up from the road. His blue gaze narrowed at the female in his arms, and he said, “What happened?” More like demanded, his tone rough and scratchy.
“She hurt my foot,” Farkas said, and it was true—his foot still ached. “And she tried to call for help. I had to stop her somehow.” She was small, practically weighed nothing in his arms. And God, her eyes had been so crisp and clear, a greyish color, the color of thunderclouds. And judging from the fight she’d given him, how her wolf had not immediately given in to his, he knew she was a wild one.
And now she was their wild one.
Alarick frowned, and Farkas knew it was his way of trying to act tough, act like the female in his arms wasn’t driving him crazy. He said, “Wait here. I’ll pull the truck around. There are going to be too many questions about this.”
“You’ll figure something out,” Farkas said, because his alpha always did. The man was good at doing it; it was one of his many strengths.
Soon they had her laying across their laps in the truck, and Alarick drove them straight home. Alarick parked the truck in the garage, ordering him, “Bring her in. We’ll take her…” He coughed. “We’ll put her in the bedroom.”
That was more than fine for Farkas.
He carried her carefully through the house, immediately noting Grimm was in the shower. He was the town mechanic. He had no shop; he only used the tools in the garage, and when there was no work to be had, he spent the days lounging about, skulking and reading and whatever else the man did.
Brooding, too. Yes, Grimm was true to his name. He was a very good brooder, one of the best. He could probably win medals.
Farkas brought her to Alarick’s room, the largest one, and the nicest. It wasn’t as clean as Farkas and Grimm’s room, because Farkas did not like to live in a pisshole. He might’ve been a wolf, but he had standards, just like with his appearance. Some might call him fussy or persnickety, but he’d always been this way.
The wolves in their old pack had picked on him, but that stopped once Alarick took him under his wing, or paw, or whatever. So when Alarick failed the challenge, and their old alpha had given him the choice to leave, Farkas knew he had to leave with him. He’d been his only friend, at least until Grimm.
Ooh, speaking of Grimm—he was going to like her. He had a thing for redheads.
Once she was on the bed, Farkas rested her head on the pillow. Her long, straight locks splayed around her, a deep color that drew his gaze. A red wolf. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen a red wolf before. He could not wait to run his hands through her hair and taste those lips that called out to him even when she was unconscious.
All right. Maybe they hadn’t gotten off on the right foot, but when she woke, Farkas would do more than win her over.
As he stood and gazed down at her, Alarick went to the window after flipping the light switch, yanking the curtains closed. Their house was a one-story home, and anyone could happen to walk by on the sidewalk. “She’s been living on prairie dog,” he said, finally turning to face them both. His stare, though, rested on her, as it should.
She was beautiful. She was sublime. She was everything they needed.
“She’s…” Alarick was at a loss for words. Farkas could not blame him at all, for it was difficult to think, let alone keep his inner wolf locked up. Claiming her while she was unconscious? No. They were not barbarians or savages.
Farkas spoke, once he figured out that Alarick didn’t know what to say, “I know.” His ears heard the shower cut off, and heavy footsteps heading down the hall. He smiled. Grimm was never one for delicacy. Both he and Alarick turned to face the third member of their pack.
Grimm stood, taller than either of them, and wider, too. His hair dripped, his skin dotted with water, as if he hadn’t even attempted to dry himself off. He would ruin the wooden floors standing there, dripping like that, and yet Farkas couldn’t yell at him, because his mind could not move from the female on the bed.
Grimm was the tall, dark-haired and dark-eyed type. Human women loved him, but Grimm had never given in. With her, though, he had to. His black stare was on the bed, his mouth open, but no words came out.
Alarick was the one who spoke, “You can go put on pants, Grimm. She’s not going anywhere.”
Right. Because not only was Grimm soaking wet, he was also stark naked. The wolf in him knew no shame, just as the wolves inside Farkas and Alarick didn’t. Wolves were so different than humans, simpler.
Grimm let out a wordless groan as he stomped across the hall to their shared room and, probably, threw on the first pair of pants he could find. He didn’t even button up his jeans or put anything on underneath. He might as well have stayed naked, for all the good it did.
The third wolf spoke, “Where?” He’d perfected the art of saying as little as possible while still getting his meaning across. That, or Farkas and Alarick knew him too well.
“She�
��s been living in the fields outside of town, eating old Mason’s prairie dogs. We found her in the diner,” Alarick answered, crossing his arms. “She tried to run away.” He moved to lean on the wall right beside the window, rustling the closed curtain as he did. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with her.”
Farkas glared at him. “What do you mean? She’s unclaimed. She is ours.” Being an unmated female, it was only a matter of time before a pack had found her and made her theirs, since female wolves were so rare. And as for the unclaimed part, well…there was a different smell about an unclaimed wolf. Their scents were their own. Once mated, the mated wolves’ scents mingled.
Plus, his inner wolf just knew.
“She’s running from something,” Alarick said. “She didn’t give into us, which her wolf should have. There’s something overriding it. Has to be.”
As Alarick and Farkas went back and forth, Grimm moved to her side, gingerly running a finger down her cheek. His skin was a few shades darker than hers, tanner due to all the work he did on cars outside. Never had Farkas seen him be so gentle with something.
“Look,” Farkas said, “Grimm likes her. We have to keep her.”
“We’ll see what she has to say when she wakes. Right now, I need you to go to the diner, calm things down.” Farkas was about to complain, but Alarick gave him a look, silencing him. “I am your alpha. I’ll get the answers out of her, and I will be the one to decide whether or not she stays.”
Farkas could’ve said it was his diner, but it would’ve been a lie. It was theirs. He was the assistant manager, a partial owner. He put in the hours and the work just like Alarick. So instead, he only asked, “What should I tell them?”
“She saw me come into the diner, thought I was a friend of her ex—her abusive ex—and she took off on instinct. Tell them it’s under control and I’m finding her help.”
It wasn’t the worst lie, and it was generally believable. Roy would hear the truth soon enough, but Violet? She had to keep her nose out of this. That girl had too many problems as it was.