Past My Defenses (Taming the Pack series) (Entangled Ignite)

by Wendy Sparrow

  “Yep. Had one in a cage just last week.” This was fun.

  “You had a caged wolf? What did you do with it?” Christa shot a look toward his basement where she’d seen the cages the previous occupant had left.

  “Believe it or not, it lost a fight with Lucifer. But I let it go. It ran off.”

  She got to her feet and went to a nearby window. “Do you think it came back?”

  “I’ve seen it around.”

  “It probably didn’t care much for being caged,” Vanessa said.

  “Maybe it’s pissed and wants to attack you.” His sister cupped her hands around her eyes as she looked outside.

  “Oh, it definitely does,” Vanessa said.

  “I guess it’s a good thing I like wolves.” And he didn’t mind her pissed and wanting to attack. Dane leaned on the counter across from Vanessa.

  Christa turned back toward them and stared. “Yeah, I guess. You should probably still be careful.”

  Vanessa rolled her eyes and looked down. “Trust me. He’s being way too careful.”

  “Okay,” Christa said slowly. “So, you both like wolves. That’s cool.” She obviously was confused as to why a discussion on wolves had kicked the heat level up in the room. “I like giraffes.”

  “Well, that’s freaky,” Dane said, watching Vanessa.

  Vanessa met his gaze.

  “What?” Christa was staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

  “Nothing,” he said.

  Vanessa winked at him.

  Yeah, his sister shouldn’t stay too long…because he really liked wolves.

  Chapter Fourteen

  She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him…which only made him laugh. He clearly wasn’t feeling the walls around him as much as she was.

  “Dane! It’s been thirty-six hours. If I don’t get out of here, I’ll lose my mind. Carrie is taking over my spot at the office, but I swear she’ll rearrange the files just to spite me. She and Cheri were friends, and I think she blames me for all of this.”

  “If you don’t stop shaking me, I’m liable to slit an artery, and while you might be anxious to get out, we’d wind up in the ER, and I know how much you love that place. You could behead yourself, and you’d still say no when I offered to take you there.”

  She took her hands off his shoulders with a sigh. She didn’t care for being shaken either, but this had driven her to that. Hopping onto the counter beside him, she sighed again, loudly, heavily…pathetically. Maybe she could play on his sympathy.

  Dane hummed as he finished cutting green onions for their omelets. They had a lot of omelets because he seemed to believe things like annatto could sneak into more complicated foods when they weren’t looking. It was a good thing she liked omelets.

  “The other rangers probably think you have the worst work ethic in the history of…rangerhood.” It sounded weak to her ears, and it must have to his too, because he just smiled. “Dane, please, I swear I won’t let anyone or anything attack me—and besides, it’s during the day.” Her voice sounded screechy and desperate there at the end.

  He poured the eggs into the pan and slid over to stand in front of her, his arms on either side of her. “If I hold out long enough, will you beg?”

  Her eyes widened. “I just did.”

  His eyes narrowed, but they crinkled at the edges as he fought a smile. “That was begging? You said please—in my mind, that’s just being polite.”

  She crossed her arms. “That’s as much begging as you’ll get from me.”

  “That’s not what they said in Reno.” He pushed back off the counter and went to tend to their omelets.

  Her back slumped. She might have to beg. Things were about to get real…intense if she didn’t. It wasn’t just being stir-crazy. In this house, she was surrounded by all these things that smelled like Dane, and apparently her sneezing had even started to turn him on with this forced togetherness. She’d been fighting back the urges, but sometimes his scent hit her and the intensity of her need made her eyes cross. She wanted to rip his clothes off and push him down and…

  She clenched her eyes tight. Okay, these daydreams she was having every few minutes weren’t helping much either. Females in heat weren’t meant to be teased like this. She had needs. Real powerful needs.

  She inhaled, and her heart started pounding. She should stop breathing around him—it was too dangerous.

  She opened her mouth to beg when he plated one of the omelets and said, “Actually, Sammy called in sick so they asked me to come in.”

  “When did they call?” She’d taken her meds so her hearing was incredible right now.

  “While you were using up all my hot water.”

  “Cold water.”

  He paused with the spatula above the omelet. “You took that long of a cold shower?”

  She shivered. Her lips had been blue when she first got out. If you could die of unfulfilled lust, this confinement would be fatal. Soon. She’d keel over on his floor, and then he’d be sorry that they’d put together a puzzle yesterday instead of fitting other slots together. Intimately together. In the bed. On the floor. In that corner over there.

  She fought her eyes from crossing.

  Needs. She had needs.

  He cleared his throat. “Well, so I was going to go in, but I don’t want to leave you alone in the house.”

  “I could go in to work.” She’d gotten enough sleep that she wouldn’t be misfiling things at least.

  He frowned. She should’ve known he wouldn’t cheer that idea on.

  “I could go with you.” They’d still be in dangerous proximity for her libido, but she’d be outside—outside where there were flat surfaces, like rocks, the ground, and parking lots. She took a long drink from the glass of ice water she kept near her at all times lately. Would he notice if she dumped it on her head? Probably.

  He nodded and went back to working on breakfast contentedly. Like he’d planned on that from the beginning. From the moment he’d received that phone call.

  She narrowed her eyes. “You know, when I’m out of danger, you’re not calling all the shots anymore.”

  His jaw tightened. “Are you planning on going back to taking off all the time?”

  “No.” She was really going to try not to. “But I will go back on patrol, and sometimes I’ll have to deal with pack business.”

  “So you’ll be back to Jordan calling all the shots?”

  Sighing, partly in aggravation, she grabbed the plate near her as he slid the second omelet from the pan. This was the biggest flaw so far with having a human mate. Even without their Lycan abilities, Dane would be considered beta in their pack—well, him and Travis, but Dane never would understand deference. He saw it as weakening rather than understanding, as Lycans did, that having a leader strengthened the pack.

  She didn’t answer him. It seemed best to pretend she hadn’t heard him when he started in on Jordan being Alpha.

  He sat across from her and cleared his throat, muttering a nearly inaudible “sorry.”

  It made her sit a little straighter and hope danced through her heart. It was the first time he’d actually apologized, and his grimace said it cost him. She sneaked her foot across the floor and ran her toes up his calf. His frown dissolved, and he started eating.

  “So, you’ll come hang out with me at work?” he asked.

  “On two legs or four?”

  He shrugged. “Four would be more subtle.”

  “It won’t weird you out?” She didn’t know how to broach the subject of his feelings on her in that form. He hadn’t seemed bothered by it, but he might be hiding the way he felt because most of the time he was with her, she wasn’t in that form. There’d been that playful banter last night when his sister was around, but…maybe he hadn’t been serious.

  “We’ve known each other nearly two weeks—we’re practically married.” He said it lightly, as if he was joking.

  She stared at him. This was another strange thing
about having a human mate—they didn’t get things like this. Scent-match pairing was a blend of tradition and an innate acceptance that it was forever.

  “What?” he asked, glancing at her.

  “In the eyes of the pack, we are married.”

  His fork paused on his plate. “We are?”

  She was only halfway through her omelet but she set her fork down and looked out the window.

  “We are?” he repeated.

  She shrugged, knowing he wouldn’t accept it as an answer.

  “Vanessa.”

  “Look, it’s not a big deal. It’s a Lycan tradition. If you’re scent-matched, it’s seen as being married. I mean, for legal and financial reasons, most of us still get the documents signed.”

  “After a ceremony?”

  Her cheeks flushed. It was like she’d jumped out of an airplane with a parachute on fire. She was going down, down, down in flames. “It’s seen as more of a personal…uhh…level of commitment—so Lycans just usually sign the papers—the Alpha can legally sign as officiating. But it’s already considered done.” So they’d been married as of the morning she woke in his bed…it was like a crazy trip to Vegas, Lycan-style. It’d always made sense, until it was her, and her scent-match was with a human…a human who was looking at her like she was from some strange aboriginal tribe where they married goats.

  “Their families don’t mind?”

  “Well, you know my family is deceased, but usually the fathers sign as witnesses on documents to show they respect the union. That’s more tradition, though, and that’s where their involvement ends.” Then the couple joined in the physical sense too, but Lycans appeared more willing to wholeheartedly embrace that. Then again, the scent-match was felt by both parties equally if they were Lycans. With her and Dane—well, she didn’t know. She’d nearly gone insane this last week and taken a long cold shower this morning. He calmly sat there eating an omelet, completely unaffected. She took another sip of her water and crunched on a piece of ice. Why did he have to smell so good while calmly eating omelets? Why did she have to breathe regularly? Cold thoughts, Vanessa. Think cold thoughts.

  “So, the pack thinks of us as married?”

  “Yes.”

  He took a bite of his omelet and chewed thoughtfully before saying, “Jordan mentioned that being scent-matched meant we wouldn’t be with anyone else, and you said that thing about Sammy.”

  “Well, for Lycans, it feels natural…like a progression because…” She shrugged.

  “Because?” He never let her get away with trailing off on sentences she didn’t want to finish.

  “Because when you’re scent-matched, you’re not really interested in anyone else, so it feels meant to be.” She was a coward for looking out the window rather than making eye contact, so she glanced at him quickly before looking down at the table and tracing the grain in the wood with a finger. Dane had made this table, too. He’d done basically everything made out of wood in the place. He and his father. “I guess your family is really important to you, though.” He had pictures of them in his wallet. His sister. His parents. A dog he’d had as a kid—which was pretty cute.

  “Yep.”

  “But I don’t know if it’s the same with humans as it is with Lycans.”

  She could feel him staring at her.

  “As far as weddings go, it wouldn’t be. I certainly wouldn’t have Jordan officiate at our wedding if I had a choice. In fact, I don’t think I could come up with someone I’d hate more for that…maybe Lucifer.”

  “You mean Satan or the cat?”

  “The cat. You’d be allergic and he’d also be evil—and as far as I know, you’re not allergic to Jordan or the actual devil.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Anyway, that’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?”

  “Just that the scent-match being a binding type commitment makes sense from a Lycan perspective.” Do you think of me as yours? Do you crave me? Does this mean anything to you or will you get tired of me tomorrow?

  “You’re saying you don’t think a human could feel that because our sense of smell isn’t as developed?”

  Well, it sounded ridiculous when he put it like that. “No, I’m just saying I don’t know if it feels as…fixed and enduring to a human because my genetics went a different way. I don’t know how a union like this feels to a human. To a Lycan, it’s like a compulsion—it’s like there is no alternative.”

  “Sounds romantic.”

  She covered her face with a groan. “I’m making it sound weird.”

  “No wonder you keep taking off on me.”

  That wasn’t it at all. It surprised her enough that she looked up. “No, it’s the first thing I didn’t want to run from—not forever, anyway. It feels…right, like something that’ll work, that I don’t have to worry about ending.”

  He smiled clear to his gray eyes. They crinkled at the edges.

  She blushed and looked down again.

  “At least on my end,” she said with a sigh. “That’s what is sort of weird. If you were a Lycan, I’d know it’s the same for you. It’s easier.” She wrinkled her nose. “It’s just nice to know they feel the same way.”

  “I feel the same way.”

  Well, of course he’d say that. Only an idiot who never wanted to have sex would have said otherwise. This conversation didn’t solve anything other than making her feel like a moron for laying everything out in front of him.

  He looked speculative as he said, “Hey, come over here,” and pushed back from the table. He crooked his finger and, damn, but if didn’t she go over to him. His eyes lit up a bit when she stood. He looked like Jordan did when she occasionally followed orders—that burst of confidence from having someone respect you and show obedience. He probably shouldn’t get used to it.

  As she walked around the table, she said, “Don’t let it go to your ego that I’m coming when you call—I’m just curious what you have to say.”

  He went to pull her onto his lap, but she straddled him and sat on his thighs. It felt less fragile and submissive. Sometimes in courting, at least among Lycans, there were tussles for dominance between mates as much as between rivals.

  “You know what they say about curiosity and the cat?” he asked.

  “Both can kill Vanessa?”

  He laughed and linked his hands behind her back. “You know what’s hard for me?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Is this a trick question?”

  He shook his head, fighting a smile. “Difficult. I meant difficult. I don’t know whether you feel anything outside of this scent-match and whether you’ll even be interested when you’re not…in your cycle. If I’m remembering what happened correctly, I’d say you felt this scent-match and immediately said, ‘Oh, hell no.’”

  His mimicry of her was dead-on. So dead-on that she blushed and looked down at his shirt and started playing with the buttons.

  “And then you ran off.”

  “It surprised me,” she said. “I was expecting to wake up with a med hangover, not a mate.”

  “Yeah, and while I don’t think humans always get things right, it’d still be nice to know your mate didn’t respond to the knowledge that you were meant to be with horror followed by running away like a little girl.”

  Her head snapped up, and she glared at him. “I have never run away like a little girl.” She even poked him in the chest.

  He smiled, and she leaned forward and inhaled, her anger fading as she buried her nose in his neck. Sometimes he picked fights with her, and if he kept doing that, they’d never last another week, because it turned her on too.

  His arms tightened as he hugged her. “I asked someone to marry me once.”

  She jerked in his arms. The jealousy raged so fast and furious in her that she had to fight the shift.

  “Obviously she said no.” He rubbed a hand down her back, soothing her. “But after I said the words, I worried for just a moment that she’d say yes—because we
’d been together so long. It felt expected. Luckily, she realized it wasn’t meant to be.”

  Idiot girl. Vanessa wrapped her arms around his neck. She was really glad such fools existed—girls who didn’t know what they had when they had it. She hugged him tighter.

  She felt him turn to check the time. “Hey, should we get going? We’re missing out on Take Your Wolf to Work Day.”

  …

  Take Your Wolf to Work Day was surprisingly fun. He could actually think with a few more hours of sleep under his belt and with Vanessa safe, roaming the area he was checking for avalanche potential. Plus, having a wolf alert you when someone got lost on a trail was damn convenient. They’d probably have found their way back eventually, but it definitely opened his eyes to the potential benefits of having a mate who could hear better and run faster and more nimbly.

  She’d made him turn around when she “shifted” so he still hadn’t seen it. He’d just collected her clothes and thrown them on the front seat. If another ranger stopped by, he’d come off looking like a perv so they should probably bring a bag or something he could put her clothes in.

  She wasn’t nearly as hyper when his workday was done. She looked less cagey, even as a wolf. Hopefully, that would translate to her other state. He whistled for her, knowing it would piss her off. She appeared on a rock to the side and, sure enough, her eyes narrowed in a glare that only a Lycan could manage. She prowled over and stared at him until he turned his back on her.

  Just as the rocks behind him rattled as she changed, their dispatch paged him on his radio, sounding alarmed.

  “If you ever whistle…” Vanessa said hotly, and he shushed her and answered his dispatch. He heard her hiss and mutter even as he listened to what they were saying at dispatch in disbelief.

  “My house is on fire.” And he stood there, dumbly blinking.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The wet weather and quick response meant that it was under control by the time they got back there, but Dane still had to grab Vanessa when she went all ballistic and wanted to run in and save stuff. It actually gave him something else to focus on and helped him calm down. Plus, it was just funny that she wanted to save his bed. He was more concerned about all her medication. It’d cost a fortune, not to mention be a pain to replace all her meds.