Sleeping With the Wolf

by Maddy Barone

  The preliminary fights had already taken place when she decided to start paying attention. By the time she figured out what was going on, there were only eight men left on the stage aside from the referees, four fighting for her and four for Lisa. The contenders for her were on the right. She knew this because Taye Wolfe and Doug Gray were there. Lisa’s men, including Eddie, were on the left. Eddie kissed his fingertips and flicked his hand up, smiling at Lisa in the balcony besides hers.

  Carla looked over at Lisa. The blonde tried to smile at Eddie, but she was terrified, and not hiding it well. Eddie would probably make an okay husband. Carla hoped he would win. He would treat Lisa nicely. Only two days ago Lisa had been only a name and a picture in magazine. Now she was like a sister. Carla wanted Lisa to be okay and happy, if possible. She looked down at the stage again, and her eyes met Taye Wolfe’s. His face was tilted down so that when he looked up at her it was from under level brows. His dimple flashed with his quick smile. Carla folded her arms and glared briefly before looking away.

  She couldn’t help but look, though, when Taye and Doug Gray went into the square and both turned to face her. They nodded formally, almost like a bow, then shook hands, and at a word from one of the referees began to fight. It was a brutal mixture of boxing and wrestling. With four brothers, Carla had seen plenty of fights, but this was vicious. Compared to Taye Wolfe, Doug Gray was lanky, not as muscular. He fought well, though. Taye was hurt, but he won in the end, pinning his opponent in a strangle hold. Doug Gray slapped his hand against the floor to signal his defeat. Taye Wolfe helped him up and they shook hands. Doug Gray nodded to Carla, and Taye Wolfe sent her another wicked smile. Jerk. Did he think she was glad he had won? She looked away and yawned as if bored.

  But actually, her stomach was jumping around so much she thought she might throw up. She barely watched the next fights because she wasn’t sure she could keep her face cool. She knew Eddie won his last fight because Lisa gave a half sob and said, “Thank God!” audibly, and then the spectators began applauding and chanting Eddie’s name. That was good. Lisa liked Eddie, and Eddie was obviously smitten with her. Ray’s voice was proud when he announced that the hand of Miss Lisa Anton had been won by Eddie Madison.

  The spectators quieted down when the last two fighters stepped into the square. Taye Wolfe was facing a large, heavily muscled black man. Wasn’t he the blacksmith Ray had pointed out to her? Taye was barehanded, but the black man had a knife. Was that allowed? It must be, if the referee didn’t take it away or try to stop the fight. Carla couldn’t quite suppress her nervous shiver. One of these two men would own her. Taye was almost slender compared to the other man. The smooth way he moved seemed like a ballet to Carla. For all that, the fight was brutal. The black man had pinned Taye Wolfe down with his teeth sunk into his chest, trying to stab him with the knife. But Taye managed to free himself and kick his opponent in the head. He had a gouge in his chest from where the black man had bitten him. Blood ran in a dark stream down his chest. Carla turned her face away, teeth clenched. She didn’t look again until she heard Ray shouting that Taye Wolfe had won her. An unearthly howl rose above the roar of the spectators. When she forced herself to look she saw the black man lying still in a pool of blood and Taye with his head flung back and his mouth open in the howl that made her shudder.

  Taye Wolfe was her new owner, and he looked as feral as his namesake.

  Chapter Two

  The fights had been hard, especially the final bout. Taye knew he was bleeding from the slice across his forearm and the bite over his right pec, but he didn’t care. He screamed his victory, his howl rising above the roar of the crowd. The first thing he saw when he finished was Eddie Madison with his arm tenderly around his prize, and the trusting way she laid her cheek against his shoulder. Taye looked up at the balcony where his own prize stood. Surely now she would have lost that aloof expression of disdain. Now she would know he was worthy of her.

  But no, Carla had lost the disdain, but replaced it with disgust. Horror? Fear? That wasn’t right. His wolf’s protective instincts took over. Genetics and adrenaline gave him the strength to leap from the stage to the balcony. Her hair swung when she jerked back from his reaching hands. Her hazel eyes were wide, going from the stage where he had been standing to him now standing in front of her, before fixing on the blood seeping down his chest and then jerking up to his face.

  “Don’t touch me!” she hissed.

  “Shh,” he soothed gently. “It’s OK.”

  “Yeah, right,” she snapped. “You touch me and you’ll be sorry.”

  She was trying to hide it, but he could smell her fear. It hurt him. He pulled back a little. “Don’t be afraid. I promise, all I want is for you to be happy. For us to be happy.”

  Her sour expression doubted him. “Yeah, right,” she said again.

  His mate was beautiful even with a sour expression. Her face was triangular with a broad forehead tapering to a narrow, stubborn chin. Greenish eyes were outlined with long dark lashes, and her mouth was made up of a narrow upper lip and a plump lower lip. Her legs were long, too, and he wanted to wrap them around his waist and put her against the wall … No, better to not think of that yet. The urge to touch her, to feel that full red lower lip against his was overpowering, but he forced himself to keep a little space between them. “Don’t be afraid,” he said again. “I’ll be a good husband. I’ll take good care of you and our children.”

  The scent of her fear grew stronger. His words weren’t working. She didn’t know him yet. Time would show her that she was safe with him. He signaled to Pete and Jay, his packmates standing below the balcony as guards. Here at a public contest like a Bride Fight he should be guaranteed safety, but the three-mile walk home could be an invitation for sore losers to try to steal the prize they had lost. He and his Pack would need to be extra vigilant. ”Let’s go home, wife.”

  Carla folded her arms over her chest. “I’m not your wife.”

  “Yeah, you are.”

  “Since when?” she challenged. “I don’t remember being invited to the ceremony.”

  Taye caught hold of his patience. “I won the Bride Fight, remember? Didn’t you hear Ray make the announcement? You’re mine now.”

  “That’s it?” Her voice rose sharply. She clutched her leather satchel against her chest like a shield. “That’s the entire ceremony? What about the church? What about the vows?”

  Taye stared at her strangely for a moment, trying to remember anything about the marriage customs from the Times Before. “We don’t have a church or a priest here. Don’t need ’em to be married. You want vows? I’ll make vows to you. I promise to take care of you as long as I live. If there’s only enough food for one of us, you’ll get it. I’ll keep you warm when it’s cold. Anyone who tries to hurt you will have to go through me first. How’s that?”

  “Those aren’t wedding vows!”

  Taye shrugged. His new mate was obviously too upset to be reasonable. Taye shook his head, picked her up with one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders and jumped out the balcony. The shriek she let out almost popped his eardrums. She let go of the satchel to clutch at him. He landed and reluctantly set her on the floor. For just a second her arms remained clenched around his neck. But she remembered herself too soon and scrambled out of his arms.

  “What the h—How did y—ARE YOU CRAZY?” she screeched. She stumbled in her hurry to back away. “Don’t ever do that to me again!”

  “All right,” he agreed mildly. A quick slash of his hand killed Pete and Jay’s grins. Jay held out his shirt and shoes. “I’ll get my things on.” A smear of his blood stained her green blouse at the shoulder and breast. It made him perversely happy to see that. All the spectators would know she belonged to him. “Why don’t you say good-bye to your friend before we leave?”

  Lisa Anton was standing in the embrace of Eddie’s arms, blue eyes wide, eyelashes dark and spiky with tears. Carla’s brown leather satchel hung fro
m her free hand. Unlike Carla, the blonde seemed content to let her husband hold her. She held the leather satchel out. “Carla, here’s your purse. Are you … Are you okay?”

  “Peachy,” Carla snapped. Taye was bent over putting on his shoes, so he couldn’t see her face, but he heard her voice soften. “Sorry. Yeah, I’m okay. You?”

  Lisa’s pale hair rippled when she nodded. “Yeah. But Eddie says he doesn’t see much of Taye or his Pack. I’ll miss you.”

  Carla’s eyes were gleaming. With tears? “I’ll miss you too.”

  Yes, tears. But she was blinking hard, daring them to fall. Taye straightened and nodded once at Eddie Madison. “You have free passage if you want to bring your wife for a visit. Send a message ahead. I’ll clear it for you.”

  Eddie smiled. Taye had never in his life been attracted to a man, but even he felt the sensual beauty of that smile. “Thanks. Lisa will like that. After the honeymoon we’ll take you up on that.”

  Eddie’s mate flushed a delicate pink, and she smiled at her new husband’s mention of a honeymoon. His own mate jerked her chin up and glared at him. Taye hoped that wasn’t a bad sign for his own honeymoon. He had been looking forward to tonight for years. The sooner they got home, the sooner he could begin gentling his mate.

  “We better get moving. We need to get home before dark. Eddie. Ma’am.” He nodded at the blonde politely. “Congratulations.”

  Chapter Three

  It had been warm inside the theater, but out here on the street with the sun going down and the wind cutting through her clothes, Carla shivered. It was the cold that made her shiver, not fear of the savage walking alongside her. Definitely. She paused to dig her jacket out of her overgrown handbag. Taye stopped immediately and looked at her with a small frown, and so did the other two, but with bigger frowns.

  “I’m cold,” she said curtly, shrugging the jacket on. It was one of her favorites, short-waisted so it wouldn’t cover her rodeo belt buckle, made of supple suede dyed burgundy red with fringe dripping off the arms. It had matched her high-heeled pointy-toed cowboy boots, except the cowboy boots were now so scuffed and dirty that they looked piebald brown. Life in the public eye had taught both Lisa and her to carry necessities like basic toiletries, water and snacks, and a change of underwear in their purses, so they had all kinds of helpful essentials. Too bad she hadn’t packed a pair of walking shoes in her purse. “If you’re cold,” Taye suggested, holding out his arms.

  He was wearing only a thin cotton shirt that looked like it was a size too small, so each muscle in his upper arms, chest, and belly was obvious. “No, thank you,” she snapped, starting forward again. But she peeked at him, looking at the blood staining his shirt on the right side of his chest and the dried blood on his forearm. “Aren’t you hur—cold?”

  “Nah,” he shrugged. His white, white teeth glowed briefly in the dimming light. “Unless you’re offering to warm me up?”

  Carla stared stonily straight ahead and marched on. The man behind them made a sound like a smothered laugh. Taye just shrugged and walked beside her, moving smoothly and easily in spite of his obvious injuries. Carla refused to feel sorry for him. If he was hurt it was his own fault. No one made him enter that stupid fight. Of course, if he hadn’t won it would have been somebody else. She could be going home with someone else. Maybe someone even worse.

  For the first twenty minutes she strode sullenly along the broken pavement. The next quarter hour she focused on evil thoughts to help her hide her limp. But Taye, curse him, was too observant, and he picked her up like a baby, carrying her several strides before she demanded furiously to be put down.

  “Your feet gotta be hurting you,” he returned casually. “I’ll carry you the last mile home.”

  Carla drew in a breath to scream at him, but wrestled the urge down. She was not going to act like some too-stupid-to-live heroine in a cheap romance novel. She stuck her chin in the air and pretended to not notice him. It was hard, though, when he was so warm and smelled so good. How he could smell so good when he was sweaty and bloody she didn’t know, but he did. She breathed in his enticing scent for only a couple minutes before he stiffened and lowered her gently to the ground.

  “Stay here,” he murmured.

  “Wha—” she began.

  Four men came out of nowhere, armed with clubs and something shiny—knives?—and attacked Taye and his two friends. Carla stared in disbelief as a fifth man came from a different direction right at her. He said something to her. It sounded like something about helping her? But Carla concluded from the bulge in the front of his pants he was too excited about the prospect of helping her to be trusted. When he tried to take her arm she whipped the pointy toe of her cowboy boot into his groin with all the strength she could muster. He screamed like a woman and fell over, curling himself into a fetal position. Carla hopped back from him right into another man. She whirled, poising herself for another kick, but it was Taye, who was staring at the man writhing on the asphalt.

  “Ouch,” he said, something between respect and glee threading his deep voice.

  “Damn, Chief,” said one of his friends admiringly. “She’s gonna make one hell of a Lupa.”

  Carla glared, trying to hide her fear and confusion. Taye was smiling at her, a wide grin of approval and appreciation. The man who had spoken was now looking around, back in guard mode. The second of Taye’s friends was nowhere to be seen, but a large gray dog was sniffing around the four men bleeding on the ground. Taye nodded to the dog and told it to keep its ears and nose open and give a warning if it found anything, as if it could understand everything he said; then he put his large callused hand over Carla’s wrist firmly.

  “We have to hurry. Sorry ’bout your feet hurting, but I gotta keep myself ready to fight. I can’t carry you. We need to get you home before any other women stealers come after you. Ready? Run!”

  It was the closest to a five-minute mile Carla had ever run, and if Taye hadn’t been towing her along by her wrist she would have fallen blocks behind the two men and the gray dog. Her once-fashionable boots were killing her. So were her calves, her ankles, and her thighs. It looked like Taye and his friends lived in a one-story motel surrounded by a high chain-link fence. She thought she recognized a tall sign, almost too faded to be readable, to be the logo for a popular chain motel. After they ran through the fence gate to a grassy area which must have been the parking lot once upon a time, Taye finally let her stop running, so she thought this must be home. She put her hands on her knees and leaned over to gasp air back into her lungs, and swore she would start to exercise more. The tall chain-link fence that went around the property was patrolled by men who stared at her.

  So this was home? A dumpy roach motel at the edge of a broken prairie town? At least Ray lived in a large Victorian mansion. Taye had left her side to talk quietly with some of the men. Carla counted four men strolling along the fence like sentries. Taye was smiling broadly at something one of them had said when he turned to look at her. His eyes were almost a physical weight as his smile turned somehow intimate. She admitted privately that he was handsome. Sometimes he looked like he was sixteen years old. His face sometimes seemed soft, almost boyish with full lips, but other times looked hard with a square jaw and high cheekbones and fierce dark eyes. His face might sometimes look boyish, but the broad, muscled chest and chiseled abs were completely grown up. He saw her looking at him. In the dark he couldn’t have seen her appreciation for his physique, but she was careful to glance away as if bored.

  He walked over to her and swept his arm around her waist, pulling her with him towards the motel. “Come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you inside so you can warm up and take off your boots.”

  She let him pull her along. He smelled so good. Was he wearing some really subtle cologne? She bent her face a quarter inch towards his shoulder and sniffed discreetly. Maybe it was just him.

  Of course, he noticed. His mouth quirked in a half smile. “Like my scent?” he tease
d. “You smell delicious, sweetheart. It’s the mating scent. Mates always smell alluring to each other.”

  Carla gritted her teeth and ignored him, his sexy voice, and his yummy scent. They entered what had once been the motel lobby. She didn’t know how it had been decorated back in the first decade of the 21st century, but now it looked like an Old West-themed lounge. There were a bunch of wooden chairs draped with furs around square wood tables which held oil lamps and decks of cards, sawhorses with blankets draped over them, and a large stone fireplace. The floors were bare wood, but not rough wood like in the theater. It was smooth and had been coated with something to make it shiny. It actually looked pretty nice.

  “I’ll give you a full tour later,” Taye said in her ear. “This is the rec room. The boys hang out here most of the time. That room over there on the left is the dining hall. And through here are the rooms we live in. Most of the men have a room to themselves. I have a set of rooms. They connect. So we’ll have a room for sleeping and a room for you to do your sewing or whatever you like in. It’ll be private, just for you.”

  Carla hoped it had a bed or a couch for her to sleep on, because she wasn’t sleeping in his room.

  “In back we have a stable and a garden,” he continued.

  Carla stopped thinking about the sleeping arrangements. “You have horses? You ride?”

  Taye shook his head. “Mostly pack horses, to carry trade goods. For traveling, we mostly run when we want to go somewhere. Our kin keep their horses there when they come to town to visit. You ride?”

  “I grew up on a ranch,” Carla said. She patted her belt buckle. “I barrel raced all during high school and for a few years afterwards.”