by Viola Rivard
* * *
‘Exhausting’. That was what Taylor had called hiking through the woods. She seriously regretted using that word now, because she no longer had a suitable adjective to describe climbing up a freaking mountain.
Within the first few hours of climbing, two things had become apparent. The first was that Alder was a world-class mountaineer. The second was that he hadn’t planned on her sucking so badly.
While she stumbled and staggered behind him, Alder skillfully navigated the rocky terrain, frequently having to stop so she could catch up. He must have been really sick of having to wait for her, because eventually he began dragging her along under the guise of holding her hand.
As they scaled a slope of loose stones, one of the rocks gave way under her foot, causing her to slip. The mountain wasn’t steep enough that she’d fall to her doom, but she would have taken a nasty blow to her head, had Alder not caught her.
“Crap,” she hissed, grabbing her ankle. She wiggled the joint, unsure if it was injured or if it was just sore from all the traveling she’d been doing.
Alder crouched down, taking her foot into his hand. He moved to unzip her boot.
“Don’t!” she cried, jerking her foot back. “It’s okay, really.”
In truth, she’d been sweating a lot, and she’d rather walk on a broken ankle than have Alder smell her feet, let alone see her blisters.
Alder ignored her and pulled off her boots one by one. He left her socks on but rolled one down to scrutinize her ankle.
“It’s not broken, but you’re better off losing the shoes.”
Taylor didn’t argue. She was so over those boots.
Alder stood, only to pick her up a second later.
“This really isn’t necessary,” she huffed, trying to squirm out of his grasp.
“I’m carrying you until we get past these rocks,” he said, punctuating the statement with a stern look that left no room for debate.
Taylor relented, relaxing in his hold as he climbed. After a few minutes, she grew bold enough to rest her head against his shoulder.
Alder was sweating as well, though he smelled a hell of a lot better than she did. Maybe it was just… pheromones.
When she was in high school, she’d read a book on sexual attraction in her effort to find a scientific means of getting a hot boyfriend. Instead of helping her, it had made her situation seem all the more hopeless.
Men were unconsciously attracted to specific physical aspects. Full breasts, wide hips, and facial symmetry were all considered desirable qualities in a potential mate. Then there were those vague qualities like voice pitch and pheromones, things that were hard or impossible to control.
While she no longer had acne or the figure of a small boy, Taylor hadn’t blossomed into a swan. Everything about her was kind of average. She was short, but not too short. She wasn’t really overweight, but she wasn’t exactly skinny either. Her face was nice enough, but there wasn’t any one thing about it that stood out as particularly pretty.
Alder, on the other hand, had all of the qualities a woman could possibly want in a man. He was strong, handsome, kind, and loyal, and for some reason he seemed to want her. It had to be pheromones, because she really didn’t have much else going for her.
She closed her eyes, getting a bit too comfortable in Alder’s arms.
“I’m not as useless as I probably seem,” she informed him. “I just have a different set of skills than you.”
“Oh?” Alder said, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
“Mhm. I’m good at a lot of things. Magic tricks, card games, hide and seek, and I can make a mean omelet.”
“I’ve never had an omelet.”
She cracked open an eye. “Really? Well, when we get back to your place, I’m going to make you an amazing omelet.”
“I’ve never had a woman cook for me, either,” he told her.
“I’ll cook all kinds of things for you.”
Taylor recognized afterwards how that had sounded, but she decided not to take it back.
She realized Alder had stopped walking, and she glanced up at him questioningly. He was giving her one of those intense looks, like she was some sort of puzzle he was trying to solve.
“What is it?” she asked.
“We’re past the rocks,” he said. She felt disappointed, and it must have shown on her face because he soon added, “I can keep carrying you, if you’d like.”
Her face warmed. “No, I’m good.”
Alder carefully set her down on the ground and they resumed their trek. She noticed that Alder kept glancing down at her feet, and she realized that he was checking to make sure she was walking okay. Taylor made a point not to wobble, even though it did still hurt. Eventually, he seemed satisfied.
As they ascended the mountain, she wondered what it would be like to have a man like him caring for her every day. Could she possibly be selfish enough to let him?
Chapter Ten
“No way,” Taylor said, pushing Alder’s hand away. “Frog legs are one thing, but that’s just wrong.”
Alder felt his jaw clench. It was nearly evening and Taylor’s stomach had been growling all day. Each time he offered the rest of the beef jerky she refused it, willfully allowing herself to starve.
She wasn’t his mate, not yet. Nothing had been consummated between them, but their close contact during the past few days, coupled with the night they’d lain next to one another, had led to her bearing his scent. As far as his wolf was concerned, she was his female and it was his responsibility to ensure she was provided for. That was why her refusal of the beef was so maddening.
“You need to eat,” Alder insisted, pushing his hand forward again.
They had only just reached the summit of the mountain. At this pace, they would arrive in his territory by early morning. During the past few hours, he’d given a lot of thought to how he would tell Taylor the truth about what he was.
Barring any inconvenient run-ins with the Whiteriver pack, he decided the best thing to do would be to get her settled into the cabin for a few days. He’d instruct the rest of the pack to steer clear of her, and once she was comfortable and felt safe, he would ease her into his world.
“I’m not gonna starve,” Taylor said, trying to push his hand away again. “You know, the human body can survive for weeks without eating. I once saw this documentary where this guy—”
“Just eat it,” he said impatiently.
“It’s a byproduct of the subjugation of animals,” she said, hopping over a fallen tree. Alder noticed her wince when she landed, but she continued walking without further signs of discomfort. “Do you know what they do to those cows?”
“Season them?” he offered.
She shot him a glare, but it vanished almost immediately. Her eyes widened as she pointed at something behind him. “Whoa, look at that!”
Alder turned, already knowing what she was looking at. The mountain dropped off in this area, forming a steep bluff that gave an excellent view of his territory.
Halcyon Mountain and the valley that rested at its foot were the most coveted stretch of land in the Carolinian region. Mount Ezra provided a natural barrier between the valley and the human states, ensuring that their territory remained safe and isolated. The twin lakes in the valley drew wildlife from miles away, providing a steady stream of prey for his pack.
From a distance the massive lakes looked like puddles at the foot of a hill. Alder pointed towards the one on the left.
“The cabin is by that lake,” he told her. “It’s small and in need of a few repairs, but we’ll have it fixed up for you in no time.”
Staring down over his territory with Taylor at his side, Alder felt a rush of pride. Earning such a prized piece of land had been no easy feat, and he looked forward to telling her about the battles he’d fought to secure the mountain valley for his pack.
The salty smell of tears drew his attention to Taylor, who quickly swiped at her eyes self-co
nsciously. Before he could question her she turned and wrapped her arms around him, enveloping him in a tight embrace.
“Thank you,” she whispered into his chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”
Alder was torn between confusion at her strange reaction and pleasure at her touch. Deciding not to waste the moment, he returned her embrace, encircling his arms around her slight form. Only a day before, he’d had her body pinned against a tree, his tongue in her mouth and her breast in his hand. Somehow, this seemed far more intimate to him.
As the sun started to sink behind the western mountain, Alder reluctantly pulled Taylor back. He leaned down, placing his forehead against hers.
“Going down will be much faster, but we have to get going,” he told her.
She nodded. “Okay.”
* * *
Night fell over the mountainside like a black sheet. The moon was full, but its light was obscured by the forest canopy. Taylor held on tightly to Alder’s hand, as if his touch could ward away all the dangers that were concealed by the darkness.
The animal noises that had kept her on edge the night before were gone, leaving the forest eerily quiet. The sound of every twig and branch that crunched under their feet echoed in the vacuum of silence.
Tired, hungry, and in pain, Taylor forced herself to push forward. She kept the image of the mountain valley and the lake at the forefront of her mind, reminding herself that in a few hours she’d be sleeping under a roof again, preferably with Alder by her side.
Scratch that—definitely with Alder by her side. Naked. She wasn’t sure what stars had aligned to bring him into her life, but she planned on enjoying every minute with him. At least, up until he inevitably realized how screwed up and completely unworthy of him she was.
A wolf howled in the distance, causing every muscle in Taylor’s body to lock up. Fortunately Alder stopped as well. In the dim light, she could see his brow furrow in concentration as he listened to the far-off cry.
“It’s all right,” he said, tugging her along.
She followed, but she could tell that there was something off about Alder. He always seemed so sure about everything, but this time there was an uncertainty to his tone that made her nervous.
The trail they’d been following the past couple of days didn’t extend down the mountain. While going down was quicker, the terrain was still rough and Taylor was having a hard time pretending her ankle wasn’t messed up. She was barely managing a brisk walk and couldn’t imagine having to run for her life.
Somewhere in the darkness, an animal snarled. Her heart began a furious hammering against the cage of her chest. Alder didn’t like the sound either, and his hand moved to the small of her back, urging her to move faster.
Nervous, she asked, “Do you think they know we’re here?”
“Yes,” he replied, sounding none too pleased.
Her eyes widened in alarm. “What are—”
Alder stopped abruptly, silencing her with a finger to her lips. There was another howl, this one much closer than before. They were on the edge of a small clearing, and Alder stared at the far side of the moonlit patch of land, his lips pressed into a grim slash.
Pulling his hand from her mouth, she whispered, “What are we doing?”
“Waiting for them,” he said, as if that didn’t sound like the worst idea ever.
Her eyes darted around the empty clearing. “Shouldn’t we be running?”
“Running implies weakness,” he said. “If we act like prey, we die like prey.”
Holy shit, she thought, or maybe she said it aloud. She wasn’t sure of anything, because a second later, the first wolf appeared.
She saw its silhouette slinking through the forest. A dark shadow of fur and teeth, the werewolf looked like a normal wolf on steroids. It emerged into the clearing, bigger than a St. Bernard and scarier than a Rottweiler. Its large head was bent and its white teeth were bared as it slowly approached. The only thing that kept Taylor from completely losing it was that Alder seemed perfectly calm. She could only hope he was packing a gun as well, one with silver bullets.
As the wolf neared the center of the clearing, it began to change. It all happened in the span of a few seconds. It reared up on its hind legs, its body elongating, bones and muscles popping and rearranging themselves. Taylor’s mouth fell open as its human form took shape.
It was a woman, a very large, Amazonian woman. She had muscular limbs and long black hair that fell over high, taut breasts. Her face was harsh and angular and her yellow eyes were narrowed on Alder and Taylor.
The werewolf came to a stop in the center of the clearing, loudly cracking her neck. Alder squeezed Taylor’s hand.
“Trust me,” he said, just loud enough for her to hear.
Taylor nodded because nodding seemed like the appropriate thing to do, but she had her doubts. While Alder was a big guy, if that thing decided to go furry again she wasn’t sure he could take it alone. She began looking around the clearing, seeing if there was anything she could use as a weapon. For the first time, she wished that she hadn’t unloaded all of her bullets into the good senator’s chest cavity.
Just as her gaze was settling on a large stick that looked like it might be useful, something else caught her attention. Movement in the trees. A rock settled in her stomach as three more wolves entered the clearing, smaller than the woman was, but no less menacing. The grey fur on the backs of their necks was puffed up as they approached, looking ready to spring at Taylor and Alder at any second.
Her heart stammered. One werewolf they could handle, maybe. But four?
“Holy shit.” This time she definitely said it aloud. “I’m gonna die a virgin.”
Chapter Eleven
Virgin?
It was enough to momentarily distract Alder from the situation that was unfolding in front of him. Thankfully, his good sense kicked into gear and he was able to file that bit of information alongside the many other things he would deal with when he had Taylor safely in his territory.
He moved to position himself in front of Taylor, doing his best to keep his posture open and non-threatening. It wasn’t easy. Taylor reeked of fear and it was difficult to rein in his instinct to attack the wolves who were threatening her.
Alder met the beta female’s gaze. He recognized her, though he couldn’t remember her name. He recalled that she was a prominent member of the pack. From her scent, he could tell that she wasn’t a sexual partner of Silas’s, which meant that she had to be strong to have gained a position in his inner circle.
He could also smell the acrid undertones of anger in her scent and he could tell from her stance and the posture of her companions that something was very wrong. Having no idea what he’d walked into, Alder waited for her to speak first. He didn’t have to wait long.
“You have a lot of nerve stepping into our territory after what you did yesterday.”
To most men, that sentence would have made absolutely no sense. To Alder, who had spent a lifetime falling into the messes left behind by a reckless twin brother, it was all too clear what was happening.
Fucking Hale.
He’d been gone less than a week and his brother had somehow managed to fuck up the treaty that Alder had spent two long years painstakingly putting into place. From the look on the female’s face, whatever Hale had done, it was a serious offense. Alder didn’t doubt it. Hale never did anything half-assed. If his aim had been to piss Silas off, he would have done something extreme.
If he told her who he was, there was a remote chance that he could talk his way out of the situation. There was an even better chance that while he was trying to reason with the female, the rest of the pack would close in on them. They would take him hostage to use against Hale, and Taylor…if the females didn’t kill her before their alpha arrived, Silas would likely claim her for himself.
The thought made Alder’s blood boil. He wasn’t about to gamble with her life. There was only one choice. To get them both out of th
e situation as quickly as possible, he’d have to play Hale.
He took a step forward, cocking his head to the side and affecting a bored look. “Get the fuck out of my way before I gut you.”
* * *
It was Alder, but it wasn’t. His voice, his posture, his whole demeanor had completely changed. All she could do was hope this was part of some plan, because from where she was standing it looked like his personality had done a complete one-eighty.
‘Trust me,’ he had said.
Maybe she really did trust him, after all. Or maybe her feet were rooted to the ground because she was paralyzed with fear. Either way, she stood behind him, resisting the urge to run as he antagonized the werewolf pack in front of them.
The werewolf snarled at Alder. “You made a big mistake coming back here. Silas is going to rip your throats out.”
No, no, no, she mentally chanted. Not a fan of that.
Alder took another step forward. “Silas can go fuck himself.”
If it was possible, her mouth fell open even farther. She wasn’t an expert on how to handle being accosted by werewolves in the wilderness at night, but she was pretty sure insulting their leader was high up on the list of things not to do.
Like a broken record, the female said, “Silas is going to—”
Alder cut her off. “Silas isn’t here right now.”
A chill ran down Taylor’s spine. Alder’s tone had changed again. It was dark and menacing. He spoke as if he—not the werewolves—was the scariest thing in the clearing. He took another step forward, and to her astonishment, the she-wolf took a step back.
Alder continued, “It’s just you, me, and your pets. So unless you want to die, you’ll get the fuck out of my way.”
He didn’t wait for her to respond. Without looking back, Alder held out his hand, beckoning Taylor forward. She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand. He pulled her along, his steps unfaltering as he walked directly into the path of the wolves.
