Her Pack
Page 5
Farkas kept himself composed, meeting her beautiful stare, doing his best not to check her out, slack-jawed. Maia was even more gorgeous here than she was outside the diner. When she wasn’t freaked out, her face was smooth, flawless. Not a single blemish in sight. Her lips were full and luscious, the perfect lips to smother with his own. Her deep red hair tumbled over her shoulders, its length mostly straight, except for a few stray kinks. Her dress, which was impressively revealing in and of itself, was full of wrinkles, its hem landing midway between her knees and…an area of her body that Farkas should not be thinking of.
If he let himself think about the space between her legs, he’d most certainly lose all restraint. As it was, he already felt himself growing somewhat aroused, but as long as Farkas focused on something other than her looks, it wouldn’t be noticeable.
Surely he could focus on something else, right?
Probably not, because Maia was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
Chapter Ten – Maia
Maia felt her skin crawl, though she’d be lying if she said it was all in a bad way. The moment he said he was coming in, she knew it was the same wolf who’d caught her outside the diner. She couldn’t help but feel resentment toward him for that. If it weren’t for him, maybe she could’ve gotten away, trailed her scent so much around the town that they’d have difficulties finding her. Maybe she could’ve run away, to another town.
Was this what her life would be? Constant running? Maia felt herself growing sad, in spite of the approaching wolf. What kind of life was that?
“Maia,” the wolf spoke her name carefully, almost delicately. His cautious tone caused her to sharply glare at him. She didn’t need pity. “How are you feeling? I heard what happened with Grimm. Are you okay?”
She crossed her arms. “Why do you care?” Why was he even here? Was he sent by his alpha, by Alarick, to see if he could get to the bottom of her problems? Well, joke was on him. Maia had a lot of problems, and testosterone was involved in all of them. Inserting more into her life at this point felt like asking for trouble, like praying for a tornado to touch down and sweep her away.
This wolf was the one who was too put together. His face too clean-shaven, his hair too well-styled. Everything about him screamed clean and orderly—his muscles were about the only thing that screamed wolf on him. His eyes looked to be either green or hazel, and they rested intently on her, unmoving, even as she shifted her weight.
“You’re a wolf,” he said slowly. “Wolves don’t do well on their own. We care about each other.”
Maia would not let herself be fooled by his kind demeanor. She knew well enough what kind of beast dwelled within him, because a similar beast rested inside her, constantly threatening to escape. “No, you’re only pretending to care because I’m a female wolf, and you want me. Your little pack wants me,” she corrected him with a huff. It didn’t matter she responded to them. Even if Hell were to freeze over and she decided to stay with them, she’d only bring them trouble in the form of pissed off wolves because she’d killed their future alpha.
The man cocked his head. “Are you a mind reader? Telepathic? Can you read my thoughts?” He waited a moment before saying, “No, I don’t think you can, unless wolves have started to evolve other mutant powers I’m not aware of. You don’t get to tell me what I feel or why I care.” He took another step into the room, shrugging, “Am I going to lie to you and say I don’t want to…make you ours? Of course not. You know as well as I do it would be a lie. But do I genuinely care about you? I do. Us wolf shifters aren’t as widespread as we used to be. I’d do anything to help keep our numbers up. A pack would do anything to save one of its own.”
“I’m not a part of your pack.”
“No, you’re not, but you could be. We could help you, protect you. Whatever it is you’re running from, we can help you.” He quieted. “No self-respecting wolf should be eating a steady diet of prairie dog.”
Maia felt her stomach grow queasy at the simple mention of the scruffy rodents. She never wanted to taste a prairie dog’s meat ever again. Such small prey, hardly worth the effort it took to catch them, but she wasn’t about to slaughter a cow. Those herds were someone’s livelihood, maybe even their pride and joy. She couldn’t take that away, even if she was dying of hunger.
“I had little choice,” she whispered, sounding sadder than she meant to. Maia didn’t want him to think of her as weak.
His eyes locked with hers when he asked, “Why were you hiding in that field, eating—” The man practically gagged. “—prairie dogs? Are you running from someone? Do you belong to a pack?” He must’ve thought it so strange, so bizarre and impossible for her to not belong to a pack, seeing what she was. Since she was a female wolf, she had to belong to a pack, right?
Wrong.
“What I was doing in that field is none of your business,” Maia growled, baring her teeth, which had grown a bit sharp due to her temper. “Where I came from is none of your business. Nothing in my life is of your concern.”
Instead of acting scolded, like he should’ve, the man just laughed. Maia wasn’t trying to be funny. His laughter made her anger only grow. On her arms, she felt her nails sharpening as her wolf bucked to get free and teach this ass a lesson.
“Are you going to turn right here?” he asked. “I have to say, I think Alarick will be disappointed. He’s our alpha, you see, and he—”
“Wants to claim me first,” she said. It wasn’t only that, though. It was his right to claim her first, his right as alpha. Such as it was with wolves. Days like this, Maia hated being one.
He did not bother to deny her. “Yes, but he also wants to help you. Surely you can see that we’re trying to help you? If we simply wanted to claim you, we’ve all had ample opportunities to do so.”
Telling her they all could’ve had her against her will was not the fastest way to Maia’s heart, believe it or not.
She narrowed her eyes, struggling to keep her wolf at bay. “You’re lucky the big one intimidates me, otherwise I’d be tearing your throat out right now,” she growled. Why she had to go and bundle up both the largest wolf she’d ever seen and the memory of what she did to Zak, she hadn’t an idea. Maia could hardly think straight around these guys.
The smile he gave her then was easy, spreading on his lips like wildfire. The smile lit up his face, and although it was a wolfish grin, he was suddenly and quite startlingly handsome. It was like the blasted smile opened her eyes, causing her prickly exterior to waver. Who the hell was he to smile at her threat? And why did her stomach harden at the sight of it?
Ugh. Maia was coming to hate this place more and more by the minute.
“Do you really think you can take me?” he asked, taking a single step forward, closer to her even though he still stood on the opposite side of the room. If he happened to lunge at her, she’d still be able to shift and dodge him. As long as he didn’t come any closer, she’d be fine. “I might not be as big as Grimm, or the alpha like Alarick, but I like to think I can hold my own.”
Grimm. What a stupid name. And Alarick could kiss her ass—though not literally. Figuratively, sure. And this one? He could use a lesson in manners.
“You want to test it out?” Maia said, cracking her neck, trying to look as tough as nails without actually being as tough as nails. The reality was, her back was tired from being held so straight. Her stomach was hungry because all she’d eaten was a single piece of toast. And her will, despite everything, began to crumble in the face of these strangers who somehow acted worlds different than the wolves she knew before.
Even that Grimm. He might’ve chased her, might’ve pinned her to the wall and growled and sniffed her, but he hadn’t done more. He’d let her go when Maia told him to release her. Any wolf from her old pack, any wolf who’d come to her wanting to mate with her (after Zak had been named alpha and done the deed with her first, that was), would not have been so keen on letting her go. They would’ve fought wit
h her, held her down.
She…preferred not to think of it.
The man’s grin widened. “I’d love to fight you, to see your wolf, but now’s not the time, Maia.”
She also hated that he knew her name and she didn’t know his. “So there’s Grimm, the big silent one. Alarick, the alpha male. Who are you?” Maia did not like to beg for information, but she wanted to be on the same level as him. Knowing his name was a start.
“Farkas,” he whispered.
Farkas. It wasn’t a bad name, though his annoying demeanor definitely soiled it a bit.
“Why are you here, Farkas?”
He studied her, his eyes never lingering on places they shouldn’t for too long. He was able to hide his wolf well, even though hers was still perched at the end of her mind, her teeth sharpened. Her nails had lost their points after learning his name. “I came to make sure Grimm didn’t scare you.”
His words seemed sincere, but Maia still had a hard time believing it, believing him. He was the type of man whose words one could never take too seriously, and odds were, if she ever did, she’d regret it. “I don’t frighten easily,” she muttered.
She might have nightmares of murdering Zak all over again, but that was it. The extent of her terror. These wolves might think they’re a group of tough ruffians who needed no one but each other, but they would not frighten her into submission. Maia would hold strong and ignore the way her wolf wanted to nuzzle up to theirs.
There would be no nuzzling here. Not now, not ever.
That was a rule Maia would not break.
Chapter Eleven – Maia
Once the initial baring of teeth, so to speak, was over, Farkas was…actually an alright guy. He liked to talk, Maia realized. He liked to talk about absolutely anything that crossed his mind. She did little speaking in return, only nodding every so often and shaking her head when the conversation demanded it, though she did listen.
Farkas was not the kind of wolf she was used to. He was muscled and handsome, but ninety-nine percent of wolves were. He was actually kind of funny, his jokes depending on the delivery of his deadpanning and use of sarcasm.
Maia sort of liked listening to him; his incessant ramblings caused her mind to stop thinking so much, to actually relax, as hard as it was. And it was pretty damn hard. She’d made her way out of the bedroom again, put at ease by Farkas, inching her way into the living room once again with the talkative wolf behind her.
A part of her wanted to see Grimm. She wouldn’t let him have the upper hand again, now she knew what to expect with him. Oh, yes. Farkas had filled her in on their trio of a pack.
Alarick was the alpha. That much she’d already known, but what Maia was somewhat surprised to hear was that Alarick had challenged his previous alpha for control of his old pack. Alarick had only been a teenager at the time, his alpha a strong, grizzled veteran of challenges, so it was clear who lost before Farkas finished the story. Their alpha had allowed Alarick his life, but on the condition he leave and never return. Both Grimm and Farkas had followed him, loyal to him over their old alpha.
Farkas and Alarick had been close before, but Grimm had been an outsider. Leaving with them had surprised everyone, but Maia understood. Sometimes the pack bond formed on its own accord, sometimes there was little one could do about it. Wolves became bonded, connected with each other in ways humans simply couldn’t connect with other humans. She’d heard other shifters were the same, though she’d never put it to the test, since she’d never met other shifters before. None she knew about.
Shifters were…not how they were portrayed in the movies. Maia could not identify a fox shifter by scent or sight, unless she saw the shifter turn. They were different species, just as different from each other as Maia and these men were to humans.
Grimm was the quiet one of the group. He usually kept to himself, never went on runs (which surprised Maia, for it had felt like his wolf was more than ready to come out). He worked on any cars the townsfolk needed fixed, made a good living that way.
Farkas was clearly the talker, the one who liked to babble just to hear himself speak. A fan of oversharing, definitely. Amusing sometimes, yes. Maia wanted to keep her walls up, but the more he went on and on about their past, the more she learned about them and where they’d come from, she felt herself…smiling?
Ridiculous. She couldn’t start to like these wolves. To start to like them would be…well, terrible. Right?
Back to what Farkas was saying: the townies thought the three of them were brothers, even though they looked nothing alike, aside from looking like extras in the movie 300. Muscles and wolves went hand in hand like mice and cheese, or delinquents and detentions. Or…Maia’s mind actually drew a blank. Maybe she’d been listening to Farkas talk for too long.
She sat on the chair in the living room, the grey recliner in the corner that was Alarick’s favorite, apparently, listening to Farkas drone on and on. Maia could tell this was Alarick’s spot, because it smelled like him. The moment she sat on its cushioned seat, set her arms on the thick armrests, she was enveloped by his woodsy scent. It wasn’t a bad scent.
God, Maia hated herself for admitting it.
She ran her hands along the leather armrests, noting its worn appearance. The recliner sat beside the couch, both of the furniture facing the large flat screen TV that hung on the opposite wall. Three windows to the front yard were behind the seating, the kitchen to the room’s left. A dark brown coffee table sat longways in front of the couch. A rug underneath it, giving a little break in the wooden flooring. It was a nice house, a quaint, one-story abode. Only two bedrooms from what she’d seen, though. Grimm and Farkas had to share, and they all shared a bathroom.
At least they were men, Maia thought. Sharing such a small house, one bathroom, with multiple other girls? Maia couldn’t even picture it. It would be chaotic, a complete mess. That, and multiple female wolves would never lodge together; no pack would allow it. A pack was fortunate if they had multiple females. Some had one or two, others had none. Really, it was a toss-up, and those packs with none were always vying to find one or even steal one.
But a stolen female was already claimed by a pack, by her mates. She’d never form a bond with her captors as she would her original pack.
Maia supposed she was lucky Jackson had wanted to wait before the claiming. If he’d forced her and Zak together earlier—some packs did it as young as sixteen—she might never had gotten away. If she hadn’t insisted on dating him like humans dated…her life would be worlds different, and not in a good way. She wasn’t particularly fond of the lot in life female shifters got.
“So,” Fark said, stretching out on the couch. He’d taken his shoes off, laying there with just his socks on. Well, not just his socks. He had clothes on, too. God, Maia’s mind should not be leaning toward the damn gutter. Not when she was around three strange wolves. “What pack did you belong to? You came from somewhere. No one winds up in old Mason’s fields of their volition.”
Maia forced a smile. “And if I did?”
“I’d ask you where you got that dress, and those boots,” he said, making her suddenly aware of the fact that eighty percent of her legs were showing. She’d taken off her boots after watching him kick off his shoes, resting them at the foot of the recliner. “No homeless shifter looks like you.”
Tucking her legs beneath her butt, she felt a little better, more covered up. Although, the more time she spent with him, the less she was worried. Like he’d said, if he wanted to make a move on her before, he would’ve done it. Maia hoped it meant he was a decent wolf, and not that he was only waiting for Alarick to claim her first.
Still, she would get to it should and if it came to it. It was nice, though, having a roof over her head. And her inner wolf felt more relaxed, even if she wanted to let loose and bow to the pack, around others of her kind.
“I wasn’t homeless,” Maia said after a while. “I was…I had a pack. I really don’t want to talk about it.” S
he bit the inside of her cheek, hoping he would sense she wanted to drop it. Talking about Jackson and Zak…not something she wanted to do, ever. It riled up both sides of her, made her want to scream.
Farkas nodded once. “Fair enough. I guess there’s always something someone wants to keep to themselves.” He got up, moving to the kitchen. “Just warning you, though, this pack doesn’t keep secrets from each other. Alarick doesn’t want to force you to stay…but if that’s what you end up deciding, you need to be honest with us, just as we’ll be honest with you.” His hand yanked on the refrigerator handle, and he pulled out two water bottles. After returning to the living room, he handed her one.
Maia took it, its plastic ice cold in her palm. She hadn’t had bottled water since before she left. It was a luxury she never knew was a luxury until she didn’t have it, which was how a lot of things were. Really, she never knew what she had until it was gone. A steady source of money, because many of the pack members worked in human society and brought home the big bucks, bottled water that didn’t taste dirty like rainwater, food that didn’t involve either prairie or dog, and how could she forget about the plumbing? Living in the wild, mostly as her wolf, was not fun. Maia liked indoor plumbing, not having all of nature look at her while she took a piss or a number two.
Yeah. Plumbing was a big one.
And showers. God, how long had it been since she’d stepped into heated water and shampooed her hair? Since she left the pack, probably. Maia had done her best to avoid hotels and remain in the woods and parks and fields. Her hair was greasy beyond belief, and still Farkas and the others looked at her as if she were the Greek goddess of love, Aphrodite, herself.
Maia was slow to take a sip of water, hyper aware of how Farkas pretended to be so engrossed with his own bottle, but really spent the entire time watching her. Every single thing she did while in his view was the most amazing thing, apparently. She was pure gold to them, like catnip. Or, well, dognip. Wolfnip? No, that wasn’t a word. Or a thing.