But if it was a thing, she’d be it.
Maia was slow to screw the cap back on the bottle, meeting Farkas’s eyes as she questioned, “Is it that interesting to watch me drink? Let me be the first to tell you that, yes, we females do much of the same things you manly men do.” Her voice had taken on a flippant tone, but it only made him smile.
This smile wasn’t haughty or self-assured. This particular smile was almost…shy, as if he were afraid to do it. Ridiculous in and of itself, because he’d been non-stop smiling as he told her every single detail of their lives he could recall. It was a cute smile, one that instantly lowered Maia’s defenses.
“I’m sorry,” he said, setting his bottle on the coffee table before him. His hands rested on his knees, and Maia—only for a split-second—wondered what those hands would feel like on her body when they weren’t trying to stop her from running away. How rough would they be? How much would they make her…
Okay, best not finish that thought.
“It’s just…” Farkas nearly ran a hand through his hair but stopped himself, probably not wanting to mess up his perfect faux hawk. “You’re the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen. Definitely the prettiest wolf. Grimm and Alarick hold nothing to you.”
The compliment burned a fire in her belly, and yet she found herself laughing at his utter seriousness when he compared her looks to the rest of his pack’s.
“And your hair…” Farkas went on, not bothering to stop at the flush on her cheeks. “I’ve never seen a color like it. If your wolf looks anything like you, I know I’ll love her, too.”
Love. Love her wolf, too? Maia wanted to sink into the chair’s cushion. Surely Farkas did not mean it seriously. They just met, she didn’t want to stay with them forever, to commit to them, even if they were nice and handsome and all that. Even if their inner wolves were drawn to each other, it was far too early to talk about love.
He seemed to realize his mistake, quickly saying, “Not that I love you. At all. I mean, I look at you, and sure, I see a beautiful woman. The best-looking woman I’ve ever seen, but does that mean I love you? Not at all. In fact, I find my chest hurts when I look at you—almost as if you’re too pretty…not that you can be too pretty, of course. I—” Farkas abruptly halted. “Just forget I said it, okay?”
Maia swallowed. “Can do.” Can definitely do.
After that particularly verbose reply, Maia started to look at him in a new light. He babbled when he was nervous. A trait she never would’ve attributed to a wolf shifter. Wolves, by nature, were confident. They followed orders, kept to the pack, and were very loyal creatures. To be nervous meant he second-guessed himself, and his words of loving her wolf, too were strong and sudden enough to cause them, but still. The way he jabbered on and on, stumbling over his words as if he’d never spoken them before, was kind of cute.
No. She should not be thinking Farkas—or any of them—was cute. To do so would be to unleash a can of worms Maia wanted to keep a lid on.
Cute or not, she’d keep hold of herself.
Chapter Twelve – Alarick
Violet’s gaze was both curious and annoyed as she handed Alarick the takeout bags. “Whatever’s going on with that chick, be careful. There was something in her eyes I didn’t like,” she spoke, as if she was good at spotting people who were hiding things. Or, in this case, wolves. She was a nice enough girl, one Alarick trusted the diner to when he wasn’t there, but she didn’t know about the shifter side of him.
Roy…well, the chef was a different story.
“Trust me,” Alarick said, his back to the diner’s front door, “we have it handled.” He kept himself from saying if things worked out how he wanted them to, she might be seeing a lot more of Maia. One thing at a time, though. Violet could only handle so much.
Alarick moved to his truck at the far end of the parking lot, setting the bags of food on the passenger’s side floor. He liked Violet. The girl had come from some strange circumstances—running away with her high school sweetheart before graduation—but she was a hard worker, a decent enough waitress, and she had attitude enough to keep the farmers’ greasy fingers at bay.
As he drove home, he hoped Maia hadn’t taken off. He hadn’t explicitly told the others to not let her go, but he didn’t exactly tell them to stop her should she try, either. Alarick had mostly left it up to them, and to Maia. With his fingers on the wheel, he wondered if she would see they were only trying to help her. Yes, they wanted her as a mate too, but they weren’t vicious and wild. They had common decency. Mostly.
Pulling into the driveway, Alarick parked the truck outside of the garage, spotting Grimm furiously digging up a stump from a bush that he’d just planted late last year. Their yard was ever-changing, because that’s what Grimm did when he was anxious. He worked. There weren’t too many better workers out there.
Alarick could feel the anxiety seeping from Grimm’s form, so he left his truck and pulled out his keys, heading straight to the man without getting the food. He eyed the stump, and then the hacked-up bush laying on the grass beside them. “Didn’t you just plant that at the end of season last year?”
Grimm only frowned.
He knew something was bothering his packmate, so he asked, “What’s wrong, Grimm?”
With a harsh jerk of his muscles, Grimm buried the shovel’s head in the dirt, slowly turning his dark gaze to Alarick. He stood half a foot taller, a hell of a lot wider. Grimm was the type of man, the type of wolf, no one ever wanted to go against. But anytime he turned his stare, his glower to Alarick, he never felt intimidated. Grimm was his packmate, his friend and his brother, at least according to the townies. Grimm would never do anything against him or Farkas.
Everything life threw at them, they’d overcome together. Maia included.
“Ask Farkas” was all Grimm said. His jaw tightened, the vein in his forehead popping slightly. It was all the man would say. Alarick would, as he said, have to ask Farkas.
Heaving a heavy sigh, Alarick said, “There’s food in the truck. Finish up and bring it in while I ask the more talkative one what the hell’s going on.” He knew Maia was still here; now that he knew her scent, it felt stronger. She didn’t run.
Alarick’s feet drew him up the few steps to the front door, and he came into the living room, finding Farkas lounging on the couch, staring at two empty water bottles resting on the coffee table. His normally put-together appearance was ruffled a bit, his shirt having a few creases.
The horror.
Well, it was horror in Farkas’s eyes. He was the only wolf Alarick had ever known to put such meticulous care into his appearance, always following the fashion trends. Skinny jeans? Moccasins? Those fancy watches that can track his heartbeat and the steps he takes? All some of his fads, though he was still stuck in that last one, the expensive watch-thing around his right wrist this very moment.
When Alarick entered, Farkas drew his hazel eyes to him, jumping to his feet and moving around the coffee table to greet him. “About damn time,” Farkas muttered. “I thought you’d never get here. But don’t worry, I’ve diffused the situation Grimm made, and I think I’ve actually made her start to like us by telling her all about our pasts—”
Alarick glared. He did what? He wanted to ask just what Maia now knew about them all, but the first part had caught his attention. “What situation are you talking about?”
“You mean he didn’t tell you? Figures. It’s always my job to do the explaining, but that’s all right. You’re the alpha, Grimm’s the no-nonsense muscle to back you up, and I am the ridiculously handsome, model-worthy public speaker of the group. Though…this isn’t exactly a public appearance…”
“Focus,” Alarick said, brows furrowing at his friend.
“Right. Well, apparently Maia decided to venture out of your room, and when she did, Grimm was in the kitchen. She decided to retreat, and, well, Grimm might’ve gone all wolf-y. Not to say he turned into a wolf, but his instincts took over. He went after h
er, held her against the wall, or…something.”
Alarick shut his eyes, not wanting to hear the story. If it was true, if Grimm had gone after her, Maia wouldn’t trust them. At the very least, she wouldn’t trust Grimm. Silly, because out of all of them, Grimm was the one who took stray spiders outside instead of squashing them. Grimm wouldn’t hurt a fly.
He would, apparently, go after an unclaimed female wolf, though.
Alarick didn’t ask whether or not he’d taken her. He would’ve known the moment he saw Grimm, the moment he smelled him.
“Now, I think I got her to like me, not sure how she feels about you, but Grimm?” Farkas barked out a laugh. “That guy has a lot of groveling to do if he wants to make it up to her, because she was pissed. She half-turned in the room when I first started talking to her.”
She half-turned. If Maia had half-turned, she was disciplined when it came to her wolf side. Most wolves couldn’t partially shift; it just wasn’t done. What good was a human form with claws and sharp teeth? It wasn’t as if they could walk around in human society like that. Because it was useless, because hunting was easier if they fully turned, half-shifting was a forgotten art.
“Where is…” Alarick trailed off, tilting his head, suddenly hearing the water running in the bathroom.
Farkas looked at him like he was crazy, and in a way, he had to be, for he should’ve heard that shower going the very moment he stepped into the house. Alarick had been so distracted by finding out what had transpired between Grimm and Maia that his worry had overridden his other senses.
She was in the shower.
That meant…she was naked.
Alarick felt something stirring inside him, but he quashed it down. He wasn’t a horny teenager. He could hold himself back. Him and his wolf could wait; there would be no rushing into this, especially after what Grimm did. Earning her trust was going to be tougher now.
“I know,” Farkas muttered, as if he had heard Alarick’s thoughts. “It’s a strange feeling, isn’t it? Knowing there’s a woman in our shower—and not just any woman, but an unclaimed female wolf.” He set his hands on his hips, gazing down the hallway, where the bedrooms and bathroom were. “When I woke up this morning, I never would’ve guessed this is where today would go.”
Truthfully, Alarick felt the same. Farkas always had gone on and on about female wolves, how they’d eventually have one of their own, but Alarick never paid him any attention. Getting his hopes up only to have them trampled on by reality was not a favorite sport of his. He’d rather remain realistic and, should the occasion arise, be pleasantly surprised.
In this moment, Alarick was more than pleasantly surprised. He was downright excited.
To have a mate. Even the mere possibility was ten times more thrilling than he thought it would ever be. Maia was beautiful, tough, and sly. Alarick and his pack would do well to not only have her as their mate but make her one of their own, a pack member.
“Did you get anything out of her?” Alarick asked, though his heart was not behind the question. Where his heart lied, where his entire mind lied, was that bathroom, and what she looked like free of all clothes. Maia was on the shorter side, but curvy. Wide hips, strong thighs, arms whose muscles were defined, for a female. And he could not forget her round, ample chest.
Farkas’s mind must’ve been somewhere similar, for it took him too long to answer, “No. Anytime she started talking about herself, she shut down, and I had to talk more about us. Basically, I did ninety percent of the talking. She knows us, where we came from, how we followed you from our old pack, but I know nothing about her.”
“Do you think she’ll choose to stay?” Alarick wasn’t sure why he bothered asking Farkas the question, because Farkas wouldn’t know one way or the other. Of course he’d say he wanted her to stay, because they all did. They’d be fools to not hope to gain her trust, her love, the loyalty of her wolf.
Maybe they were fools for hoping. Maybe Maia was going to run. Maybe there was nothing they could do or say to get her to stay. It could very well only be a matter of time before she hightailed it out of their lives forever, leaving them to constantly wonder if there was anything they could’ve done to get her to stay.
Alarick would not be one of those alphas who kept his mates locked in the house. He would not chain her up and force her to pump out pup after pup. He was a better man than that, a better wolf. Some traditions were good, such as pack loyalty and joining the hunt together, but others were more like…immoral habits. Humans used to own slaves, based merely on the color of skin and the fact their ancestors came from another country, and simply because it had been so accepted by the owners and widespread did not make it okay. It did not make it moral. Some things were just wrong by their very nature, and chaining a female up to breed was one of them.
Were they not living creatures too? Did they not have minds of their own? Alarick could never fathom the stories he’d heard from his old alpha of the other packs, packs where women were both prized and worthless beyond the capacity of their bellies.
No. Maia would never know such a fate. Alarick would not let that happen. Somehow, someway, he would convince her to stay with them, show her they meant her no harm, that she had a choice in this. Whatever her decision would be, their inner wolves must be content with.
“You know,” Farkas said, breaking into Alarick’s thoughts, “I’m pretty sure there are no towels in there.” The smile growing on his face, the twinkle sparkling in his eyes, caused Alarick to chuckle.
Yes, he chuckled…and then he realized she’d either have to put on her clothes while she was sopping wet or ask one of them to fetch her a towel. Alarick hoped the second one, and soon enough, his hope was answered when the water turned off and not a moment later she shouted, “Who the fuck has a bathroom with no towels?”
Farkas sighed an almost dreamy sigh, too dramatic for Alarick’s tastes. “Isn’t she just lovely?”
Chapter Thirteen – Maia
Disbelief spread across her like an untameable, uncontrollable wildfire. A wildfire whose kindling included dried brush and landscape that hadn’t seen an ounce of rain in months. A drought-fueled wildfire. Maia’s teeth grew sharp, her nails extending, but she did not let herself go. Instead, she shouted about how stupid they were to not keep any towels in the bathroom.
What kind of person did that? What kind of household was this?
Maia hadn’t looked before she’d shed her clothes and stepped into the shower, which of course now she regretted with her entire being. After she’d shut the water off and stood in the steam for a few moments, she moved the curtain aside and glanced all around. Nothing. She took a fast step out of the tub and peeked under the vanity. More nothing. That had been the moment she shouted about the towels, quickly running back into the tub and moving the curtain closed.
She didn’t want to put on her panties and dress while she was still wet. It would only make things uncomfortable later. Plus, those were her only clothes, as disgusting as it was. Maia was out of options, here.
Focusing on taming her inner beast, her appearance returned to normal. Maia had thoughts about tearing the room apart, but…beyond the one incident with Grimm, they hadn’t acted badly toward her. She would’ve felt guilty. Which was totally, one hundred percent stupid.
It was a minute before there was a knock on the door. “Do you want me to get you a towel?”
Maia recognized the voice. Alarick. The alpha was back home, probably trying to survey the damage Grimm had made. Well, wasn’t he in for a shock, much like she was when she started to actually like this tiny pack of misfits.
She was still mad at herself about that, because she didn’t want to like them. Everything would be so much easier if they were jerks, if they were mean to her. Then again, if they were truly awful, they would’ve already claimed her and probably tied her up.
Okay, so maybe she didn’t want them to be quite like that, but…liking Alarick, Farkas and (kind of) Grimm was only goin
g to bring her more problems. If Jackson had sent trackers for her, if they found her in this small, mid-western town, she would put them in danger just by being with them. And, though she was a murderer, she wasn’t malicious. Just because she’d killed Zak didn’t mean she wanted to cause the deaths of others.
Maia leaned her back on the tile behind her, squeezing her eyes shut as she finally spoke, “Yes.” And then, after a quick moment, she remembered to say, “Please.” She had manners. Sometimes.
She heard the closet across from the bathroom open in the hall, and it was but a moment more before Alarick’s voice asked, “Do you want me to…to come in? Or…” The man, the freaking alpha, tripped over his words, like he was nervous.
God. These damn wolves were going to be the death of her.
Did she want to step out of the tub again, meet his voice, and open the door just a crack? Enough to get her arm through and grab the towel? If Maia did it that way, she wouldn’t be able to see him, wouldn’t be able to gauge his reaction, see if he was struggling with his inner wolf because he was so close to her naked body. Maybe staying behind the curtain in the tub was her best bet. Alarick only had to take two steps in the room, and she’d be able to watch him all the while, prep herself if he made any sudden moves she didn’t like.
No, Maia rephrased herself: she would not like any sudden moves he made.
“Put the towel on the vanity,” Maia said, gripping the shower curtain, holding it against her body with her head around it to watch. “Don’t make any moves toward me. Don’t even look at me. In fact, don’t even breathe.”
“I will try not to…breathe,” Alarick replied.
It was a long moment before the door handle turned and he stepped in. Maia narrowed her eyes, expecting him to look at her, to try something, to make one foolish move—but his eyes were on the floor, and all he did was put a towel on the vanity beside her clothes. And then, still without looking at her, Alarick exited the bathroom. No fuss, no looks, hardly even a breath.
Her Pack Page 6
