Dane was her freaking mate.
“Snoring, my ass,” she muttered.
Seriously, who did that? And what kind of moron brought it up?
A guy with no interest in sleeping with the person who’d been snoring…though his aroused scent there at the end belied that. She stopped and inhaled. Oh, hell, she smelled like him, and it didn’t take a huge leap to remember what he’d smelled like when he’d wanted her.
And she’d run away from that.
As fast as she could.
Well, she had bigger things to worry about—bigger and more alpha things. And she hadn’t really decided how she was going to handle Dane’s knowing. Hell, what a mess.
She grabbed her robe from the top of the stairs. Her TV was on. Jordan had made himself at home. Technically, as Alpha, he was. The leader owned everything. It’d be a dictatorship if it weren’t for the fact that a pack would overthrow that sort of tyranny. Besides, Jordan wasn’t like that.
She opened the cellar door to see he’d even devoured the remainder of her leftover rotisserie chicken and had his bare feet propped on her coffee table.
“Interesting night?” he asked, without turning away from the mixed martial arts fight he was watching. He sniffed. “Hmm. I asked you to patrol and you hooked up with a human—not quite the expectation.” He threw a look over his shoulder. “When I asked you to keep an eye out for Cheri and look for anything unusual, I didn’t expect you to hit something outside your species. I think you misunderstood me.”
“Bite me,” she said, going straight to her medicine cupboard—yes, cupboard: three full shelves devoted to the battle against histamines, and it was a war she typically lost. “You knew I was a wreck last night. I told you it’d be a wasted effort. My allergies nearly killed me.” And she was scent-matched now. To a human. This was all his fault. She tossed back three different prescription meds and washed them down with twenty ounces of Mountain Dew—the cocktail of winners.
“Did you find Cheri?” She’d left to go on patrol just after Travis had called Jordan to check on her car.
“No. I’m waiting on some phone calls from the Appalachian pack she came from. Some moron got there first and trampled all around, but it seemed like someone picked her up on the road.”
“She was going to visit her previous pack?”
Jordan shrugged. He didn’t always like sharing information.
“Well, I never saw a sign of her. But you’d think if her car broke down on the way to the airport, someone would take her there and not drag her back to wander around at night.”
Jordan snorted and said to the TV, “You deserved that…looks like it’s broken.” He leaned forward. “Go for his ribs! Go!” Then, he dropped back with a groan as the ref stopped the fight.
Vanessa rounded her kitchen counter and strode into the living room. Jordan was currently mated with Cheri so, out of deference to her, he kept sweats in all the pack females’ dens. Normally, she didn’t care one way or the other, but now that she had all these weird feelings for Dane—and only Dane—it was nice to not be confronted by a different naked man. Already, this human was messing with the other side of her life.
Lifting a remote, he paused the TV and turned his dark gaze on her. Yeah, she couldn’t have handled seeing Jordan naked today. Like most Lycans who rose to Alpha, Jordan was huge, six four, his body dense and roped with muscles. He looked like a wolf on steroids when he shifted. He’d terrified some of the locals when they’d run across him. His hair and eyes were both black as a shadow at midnight. His human genetics had contributed Native American ancestry. The sum total intimidated most people.
She dropped into the ugly white wicker chair that had come from her human side of the family—her great-grams. They all had human genes mixed in—but for the most part, they didn’t brag them up. So it needled her that she’d be bringing more of that into the mixed bloodline. Her offspring still had a decent chance of shifting at puberty, but not as good as a pure Lycan heritage provided. She took a long draw of her second bottle of Mountain Dew. The caffeine would counteract the drag of the meds.
Damn. A human.
She’d be having mutts.
And all because she’d gone out on patrol. Because her Alpha insisted.
She tried not to glare at Jordan. She failed.
Really, this was his fault.
He lifted an eyebrow. “Should you be mixing caffeine with all those drugs you took?”
She held up three fingers. “First, do you have any idea of the pollen count right now? I can see it. My car looks like I spray-painted it pollen yellow.” She dropped her ring finger. “Second, my stubborn Alpha sent me out to patrol so I didn’t take any meds last night, but I thought as long as I didn’t run across any cats, I might survive.” She dropped her index finger, leaving her middle finger extended. “Third, I ran into a cat. It jumped at me out of the bushes, attached itself to my snout, and rode my face like I was a rodeo bronco. A stupid cat nearly killed me.”
He stared at the extended finger.
Rolling her eyes, she folded her arms. “And the only human I ran across was the one who probably saved my life. He carried me back to his place and gave me meds—so I think my particular hunt for ‘anything unusual,’”—she gave the words air quotes—“can be called an unmitigated disaster.” Other than she’d found something unusual and now she was mated to it for life. For life. Freaking Alphas.
“So, who was this human who discovered a naked woman in the forest and made the ultimate sacrifice of taking you in? Who’ve you been playing doctor with? Because I swear, Nessa, you sure as hell should have checked in with me before I had to hunt you down.” He sniffed again. “I can barely smell you underneath all he left behind.”
She looked away, staring at a painting that hung on the wall…a portrait of her mother in wolf form. She wasn’t about to tell Jordan she hadn’t been found in human form. There was no way she’d had the reaction time to change back to a human before she was on the forest floor a mess of mucus and misery—and underneath that cat.
“Nessa?”
She slid her gaze to him—which was dangerous. Sometimes she’d swear he could read minds.
“I was worried about you.” His dark eyes didn’t contradict the claim. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I shouldn’t have sent you out—for either of the reasons.”
In the last four years, she’d never heard him admit fallibility.
“Either reason?”
Jordan raised his eyebrows. “You’re still in heat, and you know you don’t make great decisions in this state.”
Vanessa winced, her cheeks flushed, and she wished she had some of Jordan’s ethnic heritage to cover the reaction. “I was trying out a new allergy med back then, and I swear it didn’t play nice with my hormones. Cheri knows I wouldn’t have made a play for you if I’d had any sense.”
But Jordan looked away this time. The second time he’d broken dominance—and he’d let her get away with flipping him off with barely any acknowledgment. Either he’d been really, really worried about her, or something strange had shifted in the pack.
No. The Glacier pack wasn’t known for power plays or drama. She liked that about them. She knew her place. They all did. That’s why she stayed here…why she hadn’t run…why she’d now been caught in this ugly scent-match trap to a human who wore earplugs to sleep beside her and found her hilarious.
She swallowed. “I mean, Cheri knows I’ve no reason to want to be alpha female.” She and Jordan were monogamous, but not bonded. Neither had felt the scent-match that she now understood. But Cheri had to know she wasn’t a threat—if that was what he was hinting at. Things had been weird between her and Jordan’s mate, but Vanessa respected that the other woman was Alpha.
“You could be,” he said.
“Me?” she squeaked out—oh, yeah, she was Alpha material. And the alpha female and alpha male sort of were…together—which is why Cheri and Jordan were together. Ch
eri was built more like an alpha female. The only edge Vanessa had was her speed, and, okay, she had the attitude of an Alpha, but it was like terriers that acted like Dobermans. She swallowed again and licked her lips. “You mean in another pack? Are you that pissed at me?”
He smiled—smiled in a way that freaked her out. “No. In fact, if you’d like, I’ll go kill that cat for you.” His smile widened, and the wolf was in it—toothy and feral. “I’ve heard there’s more than one way to kill a cat.”
“Skin.”
He raised his eyebrows. And if she hadn’t just had her entire concept of sexuality rocked by Dane and his scent, she would have found Jordan attractive—like really attractive. Even her hormones, even in heat, barely noted that “hey, something is different about him.” Dane had killed every healthy urge she had about any other male—ever. Damn him. She took a long swallow of her Mountain Dew before explaining, “The phrase is that there’s more than one way to skin a cat.”
He shrugged. “I can do that, too.”
She shook her head. “No, it was its owner who took me in. It’ll live to kill me another night we go head-to-head or head to—sharp, nasty, taloned histamine response.”
“Who was he?”
She shook her head. Something felt different. Jordan’s scent was different. He was behaving strangely. He should’ve glared her into submission about a dozen times by now. She shouldn’t feel like she could meet his eyes. Something was…wrong.
Jordan narrowed his eyes.
“What happened?” she asked before she lost her nerve. “I can tell something happened.”
He moved fast. One minute he was sitting on the couch, the next he was looming over her, his hands on the armrests, his body crowding hers, his face inches from hers. Here was the domination. Here was the Alpha.
Her breath caught in her lungs.
She looked down and held still in deference.
“Who was he, Nessa?” Before she could fumble out a reply, he leaned forward, his nose in her neck, and inhaled. Then his breath brushed her neck as he sighed. “You’ve matched with someone. Forget the human…which one of our pack will be out to kill him for touching his mate?”
“How did you know?” There was a smell that gave her away? She was tempted to sniff her armpit and try to recognize it.
Jordan tipped back, extending his arms. “Cheri issued an ultimatum…which I didn’t feel like answering. She emailed me and a few others that she’s going back to the Appalachian pack. That’s why we’re not tearing the forest apart looking for her. I’m not sure if this is another…game.”
Oh. Ohhhhh. The alpha female spot was wide open, and she’d instinctively been reacting to his early search for a replacement. No wonder he’d let her shoot her mouth off. The alpha female—during her fertile time—was indulged like a queen bee, even by the alpha male. The pack needed more Lycans, and alpha males were naturally assumed to be more virile and produce stronger offspring. The human feminist side of her should have started burning bras, but primitive mating instincts were key to their survival. Outsiders would find it sexist and presumptive, but within the pack, it made sense.
“But—how did you know about me and being scent-matched?”
One side of Jordan’s mouth tipped up in a rueful smile. “I got aggressive with a female in heat, and you didn’t react…like an available, fertile female.”
Oh. Riiiiight. Yeah. About that. Wow. She’d anticipated having a lot more time to plan how to approach this. Her mind was going a million miles an hour, and she’d downed enough caffeine and meds to make her thoughts a stilted montage of randomness.
And she still smelled like Dane.
Her want for him was this background noise like a toothache.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.
Okay, she really wasn’t ready to talk about this. She slid her gaze to the door. Escape. If she ran out of here screaming, would he consider dropping it?
“Who is it?” Jordan asked. “Tom? It’s Tom, isn’t it?”
She held her breath and tried to keep her face blank. There was no way she could tell him. She’d just declined being his mate and alpha female for a human she’d known hours. A human who owned a cat. A human who’d recorded her snoring.
Wait, that totally hadn’t been her snoring. No way.
“It’s not Tom?” Jordan’s brow wrinkled as he looked down at her. Even if he wasn’t pouring on the dominance and aggression, he was still looming above her. “Kurt?”
She shook her head. Kurt was sooo not her type. In reality, if it was going to be anyone, it would have been Jordan, and there had been one awkward moment last season she’d been in heat and on something her doctor had warned her might have…unwanted side effects when she’d attacked Jordan in wolf form. They’d been out bringing a bear down that was encroaching on their territory. Taking down a bear together had been a rush—and then the medication—and then being in heat, and, okay, for a moment, he’d responded to her amorous wrestling before he tossed her away and loped off. So, he should know—if it was going to be anyone…
But it wasn’t anyone, it was a human.
Hell, this sucked.
“So, what was Cheri’s ultimatum?” she asked, hoping to distract him. There was no way he’d answer the question, but maybe her prying would insult him enough that he’d kill her…or leave. Either would work at this point.
“Eli?”
“Oh, for the love of— No, it’s not Eli! Are you kidding me? I think Eli would like to be your Alpha more than my mate…and that’d be awkward.”
Jordan laughed and crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Well, who is it?”
“You think Cheri is leaving then?”
He frowned. “We weren’t matched. She didn’t conceive this last cycle.” He shrugged. So basically, if she left, she left, and he was ready to move on to someone new…
A sick realization settled in her gut. “You sent me out last night to see if I’d follow orders? If I’d respect your orders and hunt for you?” Even when his orders were lame, vague, and ill-timed and…why, oh why?
He nodded and shrugged.
It was reasonable. To him.
It was a test, and it was a reasonable test of deference and submission for an Alpha to ask of a pack female he wanted to be more to him—especially when said pack female only showed deference when forced.
And she’d done it. She’d obeyed her Alpha. And look where it’d gotten her.
She sighed and slumped in her seat. He’d sent her out to her doom.
Matched.
To a human.
A hot human. Gah. His scent on her skin. She wanted to go back and crawl all over him—twice.
Mine. So mine. Forever mine.
She was so screwed.
“Who?” he asked again.
She sighed again.
“You scent-matched last night?”
She didn’t bother denying it.
“But who? I can account for most of the pack last night. They reported in.”
She cleared her throat.
“In fact, I can’t think of a single Lycan who…”
Exactly. Thanks, Jordan.
“No way. You didn’t match with that…that human…with the cat?”
She winced.
Jordan moved fast when he’d made a decision. One second, he was there. The next, he’d left behind a pair of sweats as he shifted mid-leap down the stairs and out. For a moment, she sat there dumbly staring after him. Then, it occurred to her: the scent-match only existed while both mates lived. Lycans were forbidden from killing humans unless they threatened the pack’s existence.
Dane. Dane threatened her potential place as the new and fertile alpha female—in a pack that needed offspring.
She bounded to her feet, and the bottle in her hand dropped as she shifted faster than she ever had. The human in her may have been unsure of what she wanted, but the wolf was never more certain about anything.
; Chapter Three
Dane locked Lucifer in a cage and crouched beside it as the cat gave him a look of pure venom. “She’ll be coming for you tomorrow, and I just swept up enough of your hair to make another one of you. I think, somehow, you’ve been shedding on purpose.”
Then the pudgy black cat went still and looked at the door. Hissing, he backed against the wall, back arched.
The hair on the back of Dane’s neck stood up. The cat hadn’t been afraid of anything thus far. A rush of trepidation made his breath hitch. What the hell had spooked the spawn of Satan?
He went to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob. Then he went to the locked cabinet. Shotgun or tranq gun? If it scared Lucifer… He grabbed the shotgun and, since Lucifer’s hissing was distracting, locked the mudroom’s door and bounded up the stairs. Initially, he felt paranoid and neurotic for opening the door with the shotgun at his shoulder—until he saw the biggest wolf he’d ever seen rushing toward him, its teeth bared as it snarled.
He swore and pulled the butt of the gun tight against his shoulder and put his sight on the wolf. “Stop! I will shoot you!” Yesterday, he would have felt ridiculous yelling at a wolf.
And then the wolf started swerving to throw off his aim—unlike any real wolf would. It’d crossed into the yard, and his finger was itching as adrenaline worked against him.
Don’t, Dane. Go inside… go inside… You have no idea who this is to Vanessa. This could be her brother—hell, maybe her father was pissed his little girl had spent the night at your house. Don’t. Go inside.
As if his frantic thoughts had drawn her there, a silver wolf leaped out of the woods on a collision course with the giant black one. He jerked the muzzle skyward as the silver wolf tackled the black wolf. The black beast shook her off and then turned back toward him, but the sleek silver female jumped between him and the other one. The she-wolf snarled in a way that, absurdly, reminded him of Vanessa’s snoring—only quieter.
Past My Defenses (Taming the Pack series) (Entangled Ignite) Page 4
