Passion

by Bonnie Vanak

  “Damnit, where did they go?”

  “Uncle Robert probably went to pee on a tree to annoy William Silvern.”

  “Robert had better not get near the north side. Silvern and his men are all raging for a fight. That’s the reason why I hoped your uncle wouldn’t show up tonight. Every time the Silverns come here, it gets worse.” Then he turned his attention back to her. “I don’t want you getting hurt, Molls. If something happens tonight, stay back.”

  “What makes you think something’s going to happen?”

  “I can feel it in the air.”

  She only felt a nagging sexual frustration. Molly stood and stripped down to her bra and panties and raced into the river.

  “Damnit Molls, there’s gators in that water.” Jake tugged his shirt over his head, and pulled his pants down past lean hips, stripping to his boxers. She caught a delicious glimpse of sleek limbs and a flat, muscled abdomen before he dove into the water after her.

  “It feels delicious.” She swam with the current, enjoying the silken feel of the water against her body.

  “Molls, get back here,” he ordered. “Right now.”

  Ignoring him she kept swimming. Come and get me, wolf.

  Jake swam over to her and tossed her over one broad shoulder.

  “Hey!”

  “I warned you,” he rumbled. Jake gave her upturned bottom a gentle swat. “This is my turf. When I tell you to do something, you do it.”

  Setting her down on the sandy shore, he scowled at her. Water dripped from his dark hair, beaded in the thick hairs on his chest. Stubble covered his strong jaw. Jake always remained clean-shaven, but the full moon had coaxed out his wolf.

  And cranked up all that testosterone. Jake bristled with animal virility.

  She reached out to touch him with a trembling hand. “Jake,” she whispered. “Finally, you paid attention to me. I’d wade into a pool of hungry gators to get you to see me.”

  Every nerve raged with awareness as he stared at her.

  “Molls, I’ve seen you for a long time,” he said thickly. “But I always closed my eyes to what’s between us because you’re Robert’s niece and I’m an outsider.”

  “Not tonight. Tonight we are all wolves,” she murmured, tracing a line on his wet chest.

  He drew in a deep breath. “I’m having a real problem controlling my wolf. You’re so damn pretty in the moonlight.”

  She became aware of the increasing heat in her body, urging her to follow her instincts. When he looked at her that way, like a man did to a woman he wanted in the dark of night, her breasts tingled and she wanted his hands all over her body. Jake would stroke the heat of desire higher and higher until she became a keening, wailing mass of need, clawing and begging him to take her.

  All her sanity and reason went out the window when he drew near. Forget he was packless and lone wolves were regarded with suspicion.

  He was male, a ruthless, primitive male who burned with the same drive as she did—to mate and breed. Jake touched her hand. Such a simple gesture, yet the power behind it was filled with intent and sharp male hunger.

  His gaze dropped to her bra and the nipples clearly tenting the wet fabric. Then he looked at her and passion smoldered in his eyes.

  “This damn moon,” he muttered. “It’s dangerous.”

  She gave a breathless laugh. “It makes all of us restless.”

  “I’m bad for you, Molls. I want you. I want to take you on the sand and make you mine. Mark you as my own and the hell with your pack, my obligations.” He drew in a deep breath. “The man inside me tells me to stay away. But the wolf won’t listen.”

  Desire bit, making her body tight and yearning. “Join our pack, Jake. Join us and my uncle won’t say anything about us being together.”

  But he shook his head and she sensed his inner torment. What happened in his past to make him go solo?

  “Never. I’m not good with pack, Molls. I’m a loner.”

  Then he looked at her and the fierce wanting in his eyes echoed her own. “A loner who is trying very hard to fight the urge to mate.”

  He ran a finger along her bare shoulder and she shivered with anticipation. Molly pressed her hands against his hard chest and drew closer. The hard length of his erection pressed against her belly. Trembling, she leaned into him, the wanting very bad. Envisioning Jake laying her upon the shoreline, covering her with his strong, muscled body and finally claiming what was rightfully his…for she wanted no other male but him.

  He leaned closer. Finally. He was going to kiss her. Her entire body clenched with arousal. Jake was bad for her, a master of seduction who would take her hard and fast, and spin her in a whirlwind of pleasure so intense, she’d forget her pack, and everything important to her.

  As he lowered his mouth toward hers, she saw his expression darken.

  She had a second to draw in a breath before his mouth covered hers. Jake pulled her into his arms, and kept her firmly against him. The kiss was light and teasing, and then he deepened the pressure. Yielding to the demands of his mouth, Molly parted her lips. He commanded her body, taking her mouth with his tongue, holding her still as he thrust deep inside the wet cavern of her mouth. She shivered beneath the delicious assault on her nerves, every nerve tingling with pleasure.

  The intensity of his kiss erased every doubt about his regard for her. Jake kissed like a wolf intent on marking her, kissed her with the primitive male triumph at claiming his mate. Beneath her damp bra, her nipples hardened. Molly arched against him and whimpered for more, her hips undulating in instinctive need, and he stroked her back in long, soothing caresses.

  “Easy sweetheart,” he murmured.

  He dropped tiny kisses along the curve of her throat and she moaned, pressing tight against him. Each nuzzle of his warm mouth made her hotter.

  And then he tore his mouth away. She watched his expression change. “Shit,” he muttered.

  She heard it as well. Oh gods. Fighting. Her heart dropped to her stomach. “Uncle Robert,” she whispered. “Dad.”

  Molly pulled on her clothing and raced toward the furious sounds of violence. The stench of blood, the acrid smell of anger and the musk of pure male testosterone rode the air. But as she reached the sounds of brawling, she spotted Guy, her uncle’s beta, kneeling by a figure lying on the pine-strewn ground.

  “Dad,” she cried out.

  She ran over to her father. Blood streaming down his face shone black in the moonlight. He was so still, so very still. With a trembling hand, she checked his pulse. Weak, but he breathed. He was badly injured.

  Guy looked stricken. “We were ambushed. Keeping to our side of the park when those bastard Silvern males jumped us. Your dad took on two of them, but he was outnumbered. And Rob…” He looked at the two fighting wolves. “You know your uncle, Molly. Anyone touches his kin and he goes berserk.”

  Her father groaned and held his head. “Easy,” Guy said. “You’ll heal. Just rest.”

  Robert fought the Silvern alpha, the two wolves snarling and tearing at each other. Molly sucked in a breath as her gaze swept over the horde of Silvern wolves watching in silence. Waiting. The pack waited to see if their alpha emerged victorious.

  Or perhaps waited to jump in and help him.

  Then she heard the most blessed sound, the howl of a fierce wolf who held no pack loyalty, yet bore no ill will toward either male. Jake. Crouching by her father, she watched.

  He shifted into wolf as he ran, the fluid muscles of his sleek flanks turning to strong, furred limbs tipped with sharp claws. Growling, the wolf charged the two fighting males. She marveled at his courage and determination, but it proved no use.

  The alphas ignored him, intent on their very private battle.

  “Jake!” she screamed. “You’ll get hurt, too!”

  He ignored her as well, biting and snapping at the two males. She must stop this. Jake would get killed and her uncle could die, gods, wouldn’t they stop!

  “No, please, s
top it, stop it!” Shifting into her smaller red wolf form, Molly ran toward them and yipped. Jake saw her and threw himself in front of her before she could reach the fighting alphas. He lay upon her, covering her body protectively as she continued to yip.

  Her shrill cries, the call of a female in deep distress, caused the sparring males to finally back off. It was in their male DNA to save the female. Even a female from a rival pack.

  Jake shifted back and clothed himself by magick. He stroked her fur and then stood. “I’m so sorry, Molls. I thought they’d honor the truce.”

  Blood pouring down his neck from a torn ear, her uncle shifted back, fisting his hands. “Molly?”

  At the question in his voice, she whined and then shifted back, conjuring clothing through her magick. “You were killing each other.”

  “Not yet. But next time.” Robert growled. “You ambushed us, you son of a bitch.”

  The leader of the Silvern pack changed back to Skin, conjuring clothing. He bore bloody, deep gouges on his neck, an indication of how close Robert came to tearing his throat out.

  “And you crossed that line in the sand.” The other alpha held a hand to his bloodied wound.

  “We needed water, and the fountain was on your side. We didn’t choose this fight, but your males jumped my brother-in-law. You touch my people, any of my people again, Silvern, and you’re dead,” Robert warned, panting.

  “You intruded on our territory, Keynes. Next time, I’ll bring my whole damn pack and show no mercy to you. You’ll be dead before you can blink.”

  Molly suppressed a shudder. Though fierce and strong, her uncle was no match for the numerous Lupines in the Silvern pack. They could ambush him on a dark night, and snap his neck.

  “You’re both asses,” Jake snapped. “What if some Skin heard you fighting? Or I had to cart your dead bodies out of here? You’re supposed to be alphas, start acting like leaders instead of headstrong idiots!”

  “Stay out of this Jake,” Robert warned. “This is pack business.”

  A not so subtle reminder that Jake was a lone wolf. But Jake didn’t react at the insult. “It’s not pack business while you’re in my park, damnit. Now make your peace and leave. You have a truce and need to adhere to it.”

  “No,” William Silvern said loudly. “I will never make peace with you, Keynes. You violated our agreement by running here tonight.”

  “I kept to my side until we had to get water,” her uncle argued.

  Stop it, please, she thought, her stomach turning over. She ached for Robert, who had needed to run out all his pain and sorrow at the death of Lucy’s baby. One life lost in their pack reminded him of losing almost his whole family, and seeing her father injured must have enraged her uncle. She threw Jake a helpless look, but his hard gaze pinned on William Silvern.

  “State what you want, Silvern,” Jake ordered. “I gave you the agreement and you both signed it.”

  “I won’t sign again. Not in blood or ink.” Silvern gave Molly a hard, cold look, making her shiver. “Your niece has been putting off my boy, Keynes. I want an answer from her by the next full moon. I’ll keep the peace and leave you alone, if Molly, your niece and your heir mates with my Luke.”

  Luke’s father smiled grimly. “If she doesn’t, then it’s war. And you know we will win, and you’ll die, Keynes, and everyone in your pack will be assimilated into ours. Four weeks. Molly has four weeks to say yes or you lose everything. “

  Chapter 2

  Noisy night at the Cascade Bar and Grill.

  Jake walked inside the crowded restaurant and slid into his usual seat at the horseshoe-shaped bar. The bartender slapped a frosty mug of beer before him and nodded.

  He picked up his drink as a few members of the Silvern pack drifted inside, sitting a few spaces away from him. They waved and shouted. Eager for company, he started to rise.

  He knew these guys, had gone to hockey and football games with them, and ran with them as wolf on nights of the waxing moon. Robert Keynes and his people respected him, but they were insular and never invited him to socialize.

  The Silvern pack sometimes invited him to gatherings. They were like guys at a tailgate party, rowdy and roughhousing, the type of Lupines he’d left behind when he abandoned the Mitchell pack. But the few times he’d joined their gatherings, it only reinforced his feelings of being without a pack.

  Man, he missed the closeness of pack. He glanced at the Silvern guys, itching to talk about the fishing in the river, talk sports and tell them about the funny incident with the Ogre he’d almost arrested for indecent exposure. The guy had been outside, enjoying a stroll and it wasn’t until Jake saw his dick, hell, his skin, was bright green, luminescent as a glowworm, that he’d shut off his radio and the Ogre had gotten off with a warning.

  As he prepared to join them, he glanced up. Robert Keynes entered the bar with Molly and Molly’s father, who showed no signs of his previous injuries. The alpha stared at the Silverns, his mouth curling back to show his very white teeth. Teeth that could turn to sharp fangs any moment if the alpha wanted. Robert had partial ownership in the Cascade Bar & Grill.

  If Jake sat with the Silverns, Robert would think he was choosing sides and it might make things ugly. Tensions ran too high. He must remain neutral to hold together the fragile threads of peace. With a dull ache in his gut, he waved at the Silverns, set down his beer, and ignored the friendly conversation only a few feet away.

  Packless.

  He knew and accepted this. Better to not choose sides for the sake of peace. Same reason he’d left the Mitchell pack, reasoning his presence would divide the pack and everything would come to blows.

  But damn, some days he just ached to be one of the guys. A guy who had friends, shared a few beers and conversation.

  Although he had little appetite, Jake ordered the barbecued chicken and vegetables. Across the bar, Molly accepted a glass of white wine from the bartender. Flanked by her uncle Robert and her father, she ignored the action on the bank of wide-screen televisions riveting the males’ attention. The mug of beer halfway to his lips, Jake paused and stared at her.

  Forget pack. Here was something more alluring—a female lush and ripe for mating. A Lupine who engaged all his senses and made him feel alive again. A silk curtain of red hair spilled halfway down her back and her blue eyes glistened like two wet sapphires. With her rich curves, bright smile and cherry red mouth, Molly was pure temptation. Each time he saw her, he felt smitten with lust.

  He wanted her with a fierceness he’d never felt before, not even with Karlene. The primitive urge to mate and breed drove him, and it took all his self-control to act like a gentleman around her.

  Because his wolf wanted to release the beast, get her naked and slide between those luscious, satin thighs…

  And his wolf demanded he watch over her, make sure no one laid a hand on her, no one dared to hurt her. Molly triggered his basic male instinct to protect the female at all costs.

  Not that she couldn’t fight herself. He’d taught her a few moves in Skin last month during one of their bird watching walks when she’d told him how she knew how to defend herself as a wolf, but wanted to learn self-defense in Skin. Jake gave a rueful smile as he rubbed his chin, remembering the left hook she’d practiced on him.

  His dinner arrived and he picked at the meat between glances at Molly. When she stood up, a plate of food in hand, he knew where she went. Saturday night was a tough crowd, with more than a few drunk Skins around. He’d better go outside, keep an eye on her.

  Robert looked up as Molly headed toward the back entrance. He glanced at Jake, who nodded, and slid off his stool. Old habit. Jake had originally found the cat Molly fed.

  The night had turned cool and the air crisp, with a slight breeze lifting the odor from the nearby Dumpster. Jake’s nose twitched as he closed the back door. Cutting through the plethora of smells was Molly’s delicate fragrance of freesia and cool water. She glanced up, smiled, and held out the plate of sc
raps to the mewling cat. Jake hunkered against the wall, not wanting to scare away the feline.

  Then he heard harsh male laughter and crude jokes about Molly. More than one alley cat out tonight. He tensed, throwing back his shoulders as three Skins lumbered toward her.

  The first was well over six feet, with a square face and a nose broken more than once. He eyed Molly and hitched up his belt.

  “Got me an itch for a little kitty cat tonight, Red. Me and my friends.”

  Jake stepped out of the shadows.

  “Leave her alone,” Jake said quietly. He wrapped a hand around the man’s neck, ignoring the Skin’s struggles and attempts to use his fists. “Unless you want to wake up with a splitting headache and nightmares of me in your face.”

  He tossed the man aside like garbage.

  But the other two had cornered Molly. The shorter drunk leered at her. “Love me a ginger. A big, full ginger, with huge tits and a fat ass. You look like two tons of fun, sugar.”

  Molly glanced at Jake and held up a fist. He nodded. “I’ll take the one on the right,” he told her.

  That guy was taller, more muscled and sober.

  Molly’s fist shot out, and a resounding crack echoed through the alley as she hit the Skin on her left. He fell backwards and passed out. At the same time, Jake socked the drunk’s friend in the jaw. The man staggered backwards and started to swing, but Jake hit him again.

  The Skin joined his friend on the pavement, one atop the other, like a bromance gone wrong. That would make an interesting story to share.

  She blew on her hand and drawled in a deep Southern accent, sweet as pralines. “Now that was two tons of fun, sugah!”

  Glancing at Jake, she wriggled her fingers. “How did I do? I used that move you taught me.”

  He considered. “Not bad. Breaking his nose would have been better, but he’ll have a split lip for a few days.”

  Jake took her bruised hand and kissed her knuckles. Molly shuddered and stared at him, her eyes darkening.

  As if she wanted him to kiss more than her hand.