Her Pack

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Her Pack Page 4

by Candace Wondrak


  Yes, that’s what was different between Grimm and Alarick and Farkas. While Alarick and Farkas needed each other, needed him, their pack like brothers, Grimm didn’t.

  But he wanted it, which was why he stayed.

  Grimm rubbed the shirt through his hair, catching the sweat that coated his hairline. His hair was only three inches long, and it stuck to his forehead any time he sweated. It was annoying. He tossed the shirt over his shoulder, walking around the house, heading inside for a drink. If he had to guess, he’d say the temperature was nearing ninety already. The Great Plains in summertime.

  He was in the kitchen, bent inside the refrigerator when he heard it: Alarick’s bedroom door creaking open. Almost immediately, his hand gripped the side of the fridge harder, and Grimm glanced over his shoulder, slowly turning as the female wolf—Maia—inched down the hall.

  Grimm couldn’t stop himself. He moved out of the kitchen to get a better look, fixing his sight on her instantly. The moment they locked eyes, her movement halted. Her white and pink dress was ruffled and wrinkled, her hair wild as it cascaded over her bare shoulders. He watched her tense, aware she studied him just like he did her, and he felt his inner wolf tiptoeing to the forefront of his mind, wanting to be free.

  It was the first time in a long time the wolf had wanted to be free in such a capacity.

  A growl left his chest before he could stifle it. And that was it; Maia turned to run back to the room. But it was too late, for Grimm had already been struggling. All those years of diligence, tossed to the wayside in the face of a wolf mate. He ran after her without thinking, instinct taking over as his long legs brought him to her within a few lightning fast strides. The shirt he had tossed over his shoulder had fallen to the floor with the sudden movement.

  Grimm caught her, pinning her to the hallway wall, his arms forming a cage around her. His hips pressed against her hard, not letting her wiggle free. He brought his nose to her hair, breathing in deeply. Her scent alone was enough to send his inner wolf over the edge.

  He did not want to let her go.

  Chapter Eight – Maia

  Maia cursed herself. The moment she’d ventured from the bedroom, she knew there was another one. Each wolf had a slightly different smell—the one who’d called himself Alarick smelled of woods and trees, grass and dirt. The one who’d caught her in the back alleyway of the diner smelled of…artificial musk, like he’d gelled his hair or sprayed himself with some kind of body spray; a first for any wolf she’d met.

  When she stepped out of the bedroom, Maia’s nose had smelled it instantly: a third wolf. Sweat, smoke, destructive nature. And as she tiptoed farther down the hall, coming out into the living room and the adjoined kitchen area, she knew why the smell was so strong.

  Because the third wolf was right there.

  He’d been at the fridge, a shirt draped over his shoulder instead of being on. He must’ve heard her too, for when they locked eyes, the refrigerator's door was already closing on its own. Maia instantly froze, wrestling for control with her inner wolf.

  He was ridiculously tall. Maybe six-five? Either way, he put both Alarick and the wolf who’d caught her to shame. He was wider, too, way more muscular than the others. His chest was dotted with sweat and hair, the very definition of a manly man. His abdomen was chiseled into a six, almost eight, pack, and his arms bulged in every which way. A thin line of black hair traveled downward from his navel, disappearing beneath the button of his pants.

  Okay, Maia should definitely not be looking there.

  Black hair that was slightly long hung over his forehead, slick with sweat. A thick coat of stubble lined his jaw, which was insanely square. His eyes were as dark as the night sky, ten times more intense than Zak’s eyes had been when she’d clawed his throat. God. How was that possible? How could he look at her as if he already owned her? Maia knew he wasn’t the alpha; Alarick was. This one, while large and totally intimidating, did not radiate the same aura alphas did. A low growl rumbled from his wide chest.

  Maia should not have left the bedroom.

  Once she decided it was a mistake, she knew she had to get back there, put a door between them. Anything to stop herself and her wolf from laying down on the ground before him and offering him her belly.

  She would not give herself to these wolves, even if her traitorous inner wolf wanted to.

  She was so fearful of what her inner beast would do, she did something that was utterly stupid. She ran. Of course she didn’t get very far, because that behemoth of a man’s legs were a lot longer and stronger than hers; he caught up to her almost immediately, pinning her to the wall just beside the bedroom door she’d been so close to reaching.

  His arms encased her, his hips pressing hard against her. Maia had no wiggle room. She put her hands to his chest, doing her best to overlook how raging hot his skin was, attempting to push him off.

  Yeah, needless to say her attempts were futile and didn’t do shit.

  His tall frame bent, he leaned his head atop hers, his nose in her hair. Maia heard him inhale, the chest under her fingertips rising with his breath. He was breathing her in, getting to know her smell; she’d never be able to run from him now. He’d be able to follow her for miles.

  Maia’s inner wolf bucked, and she focused on her breathing, not on how close he was, not how she could feel every inch of him against her. It took every ounce of willpower to whisper, “Let me go.” Her voice was the very opposite of steady; it was obvious she was confused, or rather her beast was.

  She would not give in to Zak, the alpha-in-training she’d been promised to since she was ten, and yet as she fled from the mess of her own making, her wolf whined and rolled over like a trained dog for the first mini-pack of wolves she ran into? How the hell did that work?

  The man holding her against the wall didn’t move; inside his chest, Maia heard another rumble. He must’ve been struggling with his inner wolf, too. Knowing it did not make her feel any better, and it shouldn’t, because if he lost control, which seemed likely given how much his body and his wolf clearly responded to her, all would be lost for Maia. She’d be claimed by a stranger. Not how she wanted things to go. Not at all.

  Her life would be so much easier if she was a human. Though, from the news, Maia knew humans dealt with unwanted claimings too. Maybe her life was just meant to be horrible because she was born a female. Women always got the shorter end of the stick.

  It was a tense few moments before he sluggishly withdrew himself. His arms fell off the wall after he straightened his back, and he stepped away from her, though it was evident it was the last thing he wanted to do. His dark gaze rested on her all the while, watching as Maia’s hands fell to her sides now they were no longer resting against his chest, uselessly trying to push him off her.

  Maia let herself stare at him for only a moment before darting into the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind her, resting her back against it as she worked to control the fury in her lungs. Mostly, she was mad at herself. She should’ve known how he would react to seeing an unclaimed female wolf trying to run away. It was the predator’s instinct; written into his DNA. And she was furious at herself for feeling some pleasure in being between him and the wall.

  He was perhaps the most impressive male specimen she’d ever seen, and she’d seen quite a lot of wolves. It was her damned inner wolf, whining and howling at the mental cage Maia had built around her. The blasted wolf wanted to get out, to submit to that tall, imposing man. Muscles as strong as steel, skin as warm as…

  Okay. She wasn’t going to start traveling down that road.

  Inhaling through her nose and exhaling through her mouth, Maia’s back sunk along the door until she sat on the floor. The bottom of her dress rode up, exposing quite a bit of leg, but she didn’t care. She was alone in the room, and by all the strength she had, she’d continue to be alone. She would not give in to this pack.

  As Maia sat there, she could not stop thinking about the third wolf. H
e was possibly the strongest man she’d ever met. If he wanted to take her, claim her, he more than could have. Whatever fight she’d give him would be nothing compared to his sheer, undeniable strength. His freaking arms were the size of her thighs, for goodness sakes. There was only so much she’d be able to do, shifter or not. She might be stronger than a normal human female, but compared to the monster of a wolf outside?

  She was…like an ant, or something. Small, powerless, insignificant.

  The way he’d growled, the small peek of the wolf inside. Maia wanted to say she hated it, hated the rumbles that came from his strong, sculpted chest, but she knew it would be a lie. She wasn’t a liar, and she tried not to lie to herself, too. Maybe it was her wolf, but she’d liked it. Liked hearing that growl, the wolfish expression on his face just before he’d run after her.

  Her ears heard footsteps; he was a loud walker, a beast who knew his own strength and didn’t try to hide it. Maia’s hands tensed, biting her bottom lip as he pressed his hands on the outside of the door. Luckily for her, he didn’t try to come in. It’s good he didn’t, because she didn’t know how she’d respond.

  Her shifter side was another story.

  “I’m sorry,” the wolf spoke from the other side of the door. It was not at all what she expected him to say.

  Really, Maia didn’t expect him to say anything, but to apologize? To say I’m sorry and actually sound as if he meant it? What strange, inexplicable, alternate reality had she stumbled into, where a wolf like that could apologize and make her heart beat so fast, like she believed him?

  This wasn’t right. Not at all. It had to be some sort of freakish dream. Wolves never apologized. They were, by their very nature, unapologetic in every way in absolutely everything they did.

  Once Maia got over the fact that he’d apologized, something that probably wouldn’t have meant as much if he’d been a human man, she let herself recall the timbre of his voice. Low, rough, each word practically growled from his chest, coarse and strong. Never had she heard a voice so demanding. Even Jackson’s voice hadn’t been so powerful, never reverberated in her bones like his just did.

  Maia didn’t know what to say. Did he expect a reply, for her to say it’s okay? She wouldn’t say it, because what he did wasn’t okay. Just because she was a wolf, an unclaimed female, didn’t give him the right to act like an animal.

  So she said nothing.

  It was good, though, she said nothing, for he didn’t wait for her to respond. The wolf in the hallway moved away from the door, his loud footsteps taking him back to the living room and—Maia heard the swinging of a screen door—outside.

  Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she was glad she was alone. Maia kind of wanted to hear him speak more, stupid as it was.

  God. This place, this little pack, was going to make Maia lose her mind.

  Or, she loathed to admit, her unclaimed status.

  Chapter Nine – Farkas

  Somehow, someway, Farkas got Alarick to fix his ketchup issue and stay at the diner and assure the customers nothing was going on, the girl was safe, and everything was being handled. And besides the ketchup thing, he said pretty much word for word exactly what Farkas had said earlier. They believed Alarick willingly, while they’d questioned Farkas again and again.

  Maybe Alarick just had that kind of face. The kind of face that said, trust me. I’m a golden boy, everything that comes out of my mouth is fact. I’d never lie to you.

  Everyone in town was so nosey. They had immediately known the girl was an outsider, because all the townies knew each other and each other’s business. To try to get some heat off of her, Farkas had tipped Violet and paid the check the female wolf left, but it did nothing to earn him some slack. It was only after Alarick arrived that everyone calmed down and it was back to business as usual.

  As if Farkas was chopped liver.

  Roy tried his best to get the details out of him, because Roy was the only person in town who knew they were wolves, but Farkas just shook his head. If the man wanted the details, he’d have to pry them from Alarick, not him. Farkas wasn’t sure what to tell people, especially if she ended up staying with them.

  Alarick caught him in the back stockroom. “I want you to go home and check on her. I left her with Grimm, but we both know how good he is with people in general.” Just when Farkas opened his mouth to say something sarcastic, he added, “Her name is Maia.”

  Maia. A pretty name for a beautiful woman. Somehow it fit. Farkas rather liked it, and he did not bother trying to hide the smile that spread on his face.

  “I meant now, Farkas,” Alarick added, blue eyes squinting. “I should be home soon. I’ll bring home lunch.”

  With a nod, Farkas left the diner, waving to Roy and Violet. The walk to the house wasn’t terribly long; it was a path he was used to taking, since the only one of them who owned a vehicle was Alarick, and no one else got to drive his truck but him. Most of Grimm’s business came to him, which he then worked on in their wide driveway. It worked out. Fewer bills to pay.

  Farkas had his hands in his pockets as he walked around the sidewalk that curled around the house. He spotted Grimm with a shovel, standing over the flowerbeds. His chest was unencumbered by a shirt, the sun’s rays beating down as he did…whatever the hell he was doing. Planting more flowers? Digging up weeds? Just playing in the dirt?

  Glancing to the house, Farkas walked up to him. Though Grimm heard him, he did not look at him, keeping busy. Crossing his arms, Farkas asked, “Aren’t you supposed to be watching her?”

  Grimm finally paused, too tall to lean on the shovel, so he just held it, his hand tight around the handle, knuckles almost white. The dark expression he gave Farkas told him all he needed to know.

  Something had happened.

  Farkas grew worried. Grimm wasn’t the kind of wolf to let something inconsequential bother him. Whatever it was had to be bad. “What’s wrong?”

  His frown only deepened, his scowl worsening.

  “Speak,” Farkas said. “Use your words. I know you’re capable of conversation.” Now might not have been the best time to get snippy with him, but sarcasm was welcome in any situation. “I’m not psychic, contrary to what I might claim—” Surely, if he just kept talking, Grimm would grow tired of listening to him and finally speak for himself.

  The psychic comment did the trick. Grimm muttered, “She came out. I was in the kitchen. My wolf…I almost lost control over him.”

  Grimm? Almost losing control? It seemed such a far-fetched scenario to Farkas, but he knew Grimm would never say it if it wasn’t true. Was it because she was a wolf, because she was unclaimed, or because she was a redhead? Maybe a combination of all three.

  What stunned Farkas even more was Grimm was not yet finished speaking, “She ran. I went after her, held her against the wall…” Grimm’s voice was a deadly kind of low, almost as if he was ashamed of what he’d done.

  Farkas’s mouth fell open. “You…you didn’t…” He couldn’t even ask his packmate the question. Alarick wanted to find out what she was running from, wanted to help her, wanted her to choose them before they made her one of their own. And it would be Alarick who would claim her first, because he was the alpha, their leader. If Grimm had taken her against her will, Alarick was going to be furious.

  A strange thought, because Farkas could not remember the last time he’d seen Alarick furious.

  “No,” Grimm finally said. “But I wanted to.” His brown stare moved to the dirt beside him, his fingers curling around the shovel handle even tighter. “Never have I wanted something so badly.”

  Oh, well, that was something, right? Grimm might’ve frightened the female half to death—because who wouldn’t be frightened of a wolf that size—but at least he didn’t step over the line there was no going back from. It was enough to ease the anxiety that grew within Farkas the moment Grimm said she’d come out.

  “But you didn’t,” Farkas reminded him, glad he didn’t have to call Alarick
and break the news. No news-breaking today. “Where is she?” If anything, now Farkas had to convince her they weren’t out to take her against her will.

  Even if that’s exactly what each of their inner wolves wanted to do. An instinct none of them could deny, not even Grimm, apparently.

  “Bedroom,” Grimm grumbled, returning to his yard work. With his back to Farkas, it was clear he would say not another word about it. His back muscles twitched as he kept digging up the roots of weeds.

  Walking into the house, Farkas felt himself stiffen the closer he came to Alarick’s room. He could smell her already, such a sweet, almost fruity scent. Alluring in every way. His quiet feet drew him before the closed door, and shrugging off his hesitancy, he knocked.

  His knock was met with silence.

  “I’m coming in,” Farkas spoke through the crack, hoping she didn’t leap on him and try to attack him. After what happened with Grimm, he wouldn’t blame her, though he did wish she’d just give in and become theirs.

  He knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he couldn’t help it.

  His hand went for the door handle, and he pushed his way inside, taking a single step into the room before spotting her standing beside the window. She’d drawn the curtain aside just a bit, enough to see the daylight. The moment Farkas moved into the room, she turned to face him, her eyes accusatory.

  Such pretty, stormy eyes.

  His wolf wanted to break free, but Farkas would not let him. He would not do the same as Grimm had. Alarick wanted her to choose them, and to do that, they’d have to act like humans and…court her. How the hell did humans court each other? Presents, dates, getting to know each other’s likes and dislikes. Seemed a far too complicated process.

  When it came to the pack, there was obviously the attraction between their wolves. Usually females didn’t have a say, because they were so rare. If their wolves connected, it was one and done. There was no backing out, no take backs. Once it was done, they were connected forever, until their death. Eternal mates for life. Marked by each other’s scents, by their claws on each other’s backs.

 

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