Mating Games

by Nikki Jefford

  Garrick’s eyes gleamed when he grinned.

  Raider’s eyes locked onto him. “But any whiff of danger, and we’re out of there. Understood?”

  Garrick’s smile stretched thin. “Whatever you say, son.”

  “And someone needs to stand in for me.” He wouldn’t leave Jordan alone to patrol, no matter what anyone had to say on the matter.

  “Already taken care of,” Garrick boasted. “Ford’s arranging for a couple members of the den to take turns patrolling with your partner.”

  Raider nodded. “And Jager knows about this?”

  “He does.” With a sweeping grin, Garrick clapped a beefy hand over Raider’s shoulder blade. “We leave after breakfast and go in under the cover of night. Sleep well tonight, son, because you won’t be getting any tomorrow.”

  With one last squeeze, Garrick stepped back and turned to make his way to the prairie. Raider stared after him long after he’d vanished like a bird darting between the tall blades that formed a sea of calm grass.

  Shadows fell over the knoll, darkness encroaching the clearing. Lengthy silhouettes crept up to Raider from different angles as though trying to cage him in.

  For once, he would have liked to speak with Emerson. She’d been part of the rescue party that went after Tabor and encountered the human group guarding him. He’d heard a report of what happened, along with the rest of council, but he could use any extra details. He knew they were the same humans Sasha and Aden had encountered on a supply run over a month ago. They had all been killed during Tabor’s rescue, which meant this wasn’t the group currently camping in the suburbs.

  “Hey,” Jordan said gently.

  Raider heard her return before she spoke, but his gaze still drifted over the expanse of the prairie grass.

  Jordan moved closer, stopping several feet from his side. “What did Garrick want?”

  “He scented humans in the suburbs.” Raider scrubbed his jaw, his eyes still glazed over. “He, Ford, and I are leaving to take a closer look after breakfast tomorrow.”

  Jordan’s lips parted softly, and her forehead creased. For some reason, her look of concern irked him more than all the sass she’d lobbed his way since their pairing. What? Suddenly she cares about my well-being? More likely she didn’t want to live with the guilt if he didn’t return, knowing the risk involved in confronting rogue humans.

  “Shouldn’t—”

  Raider cut her off before she could continue her question. “Don’t worry. You’ll have a new partner while I’m gone.” That ought to cheer her. She’d made it clear she never wanted to partner with him. For a few days, she would get what she wanted. “I need sleep,” Raider said gruffly. He unfastened his jeans and shucked them off, ignoring Jordan as he shifted. Once in fur, he lay on his stomach and closed his eyes, but sleep did not come.

  Following a sigh, he heard the gentle rasp of cloth as Jordan removed her pants and top, dropping them on the ground. After shifting, she sniffed a couple times before settling over the ground. Raider kept his eyes closed and, though Jordan had sniffed with worry at his news, it wasn’t strong enough to make her curl up against him and offer comfort during his last night before journeying into the wastelands.

  He set his head over his paws, snout resting in the dirt. He felt wide awake one moment, but the next he dreamed of rabbits running every which way in the glade—so many rabbits he didn’t know which one to chase. His paws twitched, and his legs jerked. He felt warm fur settle against his and press closer. Raider’s eyelids flickered open. It was night, and all was quiet—no rabbits running rampant in the hollow. But Jordan curling up against him was no dream. He might have lain awake and taken pleasure in the soft feel of her side pressing into his, but relaxation took him back down the rabbit hole of sleep, where small furry critters beckoned him to give chase.

  Raider wouldn’t have believed Jordan had truly slept against him throughout the night if he hadn’t woken to her still pressed to his side. Still, they dressed and walked into the glade in their customary silence.

  With Garrick and Ford showing up at any moment, Raider dished up a bowl of porridge and scarfed it down before pulling Emerson aside. The blond shifter leaned against a tree, eating her breakfast while standing.

  “Can I talk to you a minute?” Raider asked.

  With a friendly smile, Emerson set her porridge in a basket and looped her arm around Raider’s, tossing her hair back. “Anytime, Raider,” she sang out. “Should we go someplace private?” She winked at several shifters, who openly gaped.

  Raider looked around the glade before returning his gaze to Emerson. “Sure,” he said. The last thing he wanted was to alarm the pack with news of the humans. They all needed to keep on point, not panic.

  “Oh?” Emerson’s voice dropped, and her forehead creased. Her hold on Raider’s arm loosened, and if he wasn’t about to head into the wasteland, he might have smiled to see her unsettled. Perhaps Jordan wasn’t the only sister who didn’t want him for a mate. Emerson had been playing with him all along—or maybe it wasn’t Raider so much as the pack with whom she toyed. She was too sharp not to know about the bet and probably enjoyed the attention and opportunity to tease those playing the odds with her calculated misdirection.

  Raider led Emerson along the edge of the glade to an opening at one of the many paths leading in. He glanced around. Seeing no one nearby, he quickly told her about what his father had discovered and their upcoming trip.

  Emerson’s lips thinned as she listened. She stood frozen, not even playing with her blond tresses. “They wouldn’t venture away from the city unless they had guns,” she said, all business. “We also found binoculars on the ones we killed, so don’t assume they won’t see you from far away. As you know, Sasha distracted the group we killed at one of the human campsites. They had a small patch of forest with nothing but desert surrounding them. The ones in the suburbs will have the cover of houses.” Emerson frowned. “You should talk to Aden about the attack in the suburbs. He could offer more details about the human he killed during the supply run. You should bring him with you, if Jager can spare him, but definitely see what he can tell you. He’s on the next meal shift.”

  It was a good idea, but Raider knew Garrick couldn’t be convinced to wait, nor would he want help from a werewolf, even if he respected Aden’s past kills. “I don’t have time,” Raider said with a sigh.

  Emerson chewed on her lower lip. “Be careful, okay?”

  Warmth filled Raider’s chest and radiated over his skin, touched by her uncharacteristic concern. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  “Actually, I do, and I’m not the only one.” A conspiratorial smile reappeared over Emerson’s lips. “I’ve got a bet to win.”

  Groaning, Raider slapped his forehead. “Please don’t tell me you bet on yourself.”

  Emerson tossed her hair back. “I’m not looking to settle down in the den anytime soon, but no one else needs to know that besides you and me.”

  “I don’t like games,” Raider said.

  “No one asked me, either.” Emerson lifted her chin and huffed. A second later, she resumed smiling. “If the pack wants to place bets at my expense, then no one can blame me for getting involved.”

  With a deep sigh, Raider looked into Emerson’s bright-blue eyes. “Dare I ask who you bet on?”

  She answered with a smirk and glance in Jordan’s direction.

  Raider snorted. “She doesn’t want to be my patrol partner, let alone my mate.”

  Across the glade, Jordan sat on a log beside Chase with a bowl balanced on her legs. Chase gestured with his hands, talking to her, but Jordan leaned forward, watching Raider and Emerson with hawk eyes.

  Raider turned his back to Jordan and Chase, returning his gaze to Emerson’s bemused grin.

  Emerson pulled her hair over her shoulder only to toss it back again. “Trust
me, she’s interested. She just doesn’t like being told what to do. You’ve been on her list a long time.”

  “List?”

  “Most desirable shifters in Wolf Hollow.” Emerson’s grin widened.

  Heat climbed up Raider’s neck and settled into his cheeks.

  Emerson squinted at him. “Raider, are you”—she leaned in closer—“blushing?”

  He cleared his throat. “Things change. She’s close to Chase and Hudson.”

  Emerson rolled her eyes. “Ever since she took up with those two, she started drinking heavily. Probably has to get herself drunk enough to fool around with them. Jordan needs someone who can go head-to-head with her. She’s just too stubborn to admit it.”

  Raider folded his arms over his chest. “I’m not looking for a stubborn mate.”

  “Oh, no?” Emerson raised one slender eyebrow. “What are you looking for in a mate? Maybe I can help.”

  Raider glowered. He didn’t need Emerson playing matchmaker when he already had his father breathing down his ruff. With Emerson watching him carefully, he kept his eyes locked on hers, concerned he might inadvertently look over at Lacy and give Em ideas about matchmaking… or scare the poor she-wolf off in order to win the bet she’d placed. Raider wouldn’t put it past Emerson. It hardly mattered anymore. After briefly considering Lacy as a mate, he hadn’t thought of her again. She didn’t make his blood race, or his mind spark, or his cock stand on end. No, unfortunately, there was only one shifter who sent his feelings spinning like brushwood in a cyclone. His shoulders slowly turned, as though pulled by a magnetic force toward the willful she-wolf who stared across the glade straight at him.

  The breath in Raider’s throat caught. It was as though he were underwater again, deep below the surface, peace followed by panic rising up and bursting like bottled emotions. One of the most desirable shifters in the hollow. Emerson claimed Jordan had listed him long ago. When? Emerson was flirty and manipulative, but she was no liar.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Garrick said from beside him. His eyes gleamed as he looked from Emerson to Raider. “It’s time to go.”

  Ford stood on the edge of the glade, watching them and waiting.

  “Be careful,” Emerson said, touching Raider’s arm.

  Garrick grinned at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll get my boy back to you in one piece—along with David.”

  Raider rolled his eyes upwards when his father wasn’t looking. Emerson bit down on her lower lip as though to suppress a laugh.

  “You, too,” Raider said. “Be safe.”

  The smile on Emerson’s lips faded, and for a moment her face darkened as though a cloud blew in from above and cast a shadow over the glade. It soon passed, replaced by a bright smile.

  “We’re eager for your return—some of us especially.” She winked before pivoting with a hair toss and sauntering off.

  “Making progress, I see.” Garrick bobbed his thick head with approval.

  He would let his father think whatever he liked. At least he’d been useful in tracking down a lead on David.

  Emerson joined the line at the cauldron rather than returning to her half-eaten bowl of porridge discarded on the ground. After what happened two weeks ago, Raider couldn’t blame her for taking precautions.

  “After all my encouragement, now you want to stick around and philander.” Garrick huffed impatiently, misreading Raider’s lingering gaze on Emerson.

  “I’m ready to go,” Raider said.

  Garrick grinned and clapped him on the back. “Just wait until you return a hero.”

  “I just want to return,” Raider said. “All of us, including David.”

  “Then let’s go get him, son. Ford, you ready?” Garrick motioned his nephew over.

  Raider stood over his cousin by a couple inches. “You found Jordan a partner?”

  Ford nodded. “Devan today; Peter tomorrow.”

  His cousin had come through. Raider could barely admit to himself the relief that swept through him that it would be mated shifters accompanying Jordan on patrol and keeping her company at night.

  He led his father and cousin through the narrow opening in the trees, reaching for the button on his jeans only to have his fingers freeze when he saw Wolfrik blocking the trail up ahead. The wild wolf put his hands on his hips as their small group approached.

  “Still rushing off for the suburbs?” Wolfrik raised a scathing brow.

  Garrick sneered. “Still refusing to join us?”

  Wolfrik cracked his knuckles and gave Garrick a once-over with cold, shrewd eyes. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t allow any of you to go. It’s a fool’s errand. Whoever’s out there is probably looking for me or replacement wolves—or both. Those humans aren’t up to any good, you can count on that. You’re endangering yourselves and, worse, your pack.”

  Deep creases rippled over Garrick’s forehead. “We’ll see about that.” He nodded sideways. “Come on, boys, we have a pack member to save.”

  Wolfrik remained rooted to his spot, forcing Raider, Garrick, and Ford to walk around him. As Garrick walked past, Wolfrik turned his body to keep him in his sights until their group returned to the trail and kept going with their backs to Wolfrik.

  “Wolfrik makes a valid point,” Raider said when they were out of earshot.

  “Wolfrik’s a cur who’s only trying to save face.” Garrick spit on the ground.

  Raider unfastened his jeans and pulled them over his hips, allowing gravity to take it from there. He left them strewn across the ground to pick up on his way back as Garrick and Ford stripped off their clothes.

  Pulling his shirt off, Raider shook his head. “Wolfrik’s a survivor.”

  As was he. But that didn’t change the fact that humans had weapons that could put a wolf down before they ever had a chance to reach them.

  Raider hoped the trip into the wastelands was worth the risk.

  chapter thirteen

  “This whole night and day, day and night thing is driving me bonkers.” Chase waved his hands beside his head. “And I’m not the only one. Did you know Lacy weaves reeds into baskets?”

  “Oh, yeah?” Jordan said absently.

  What had her sister and Raider been discussing across the glade before he left with Garrick and Ford? He’d looked over several times, right at her. At least he wasn’t flirting with Emerson, but Jordan still felt a stab of envy that her sister had gotten a chance to say goodbye, while Jordan had not. It was her own damn fault for sitting beside Chase making small talk when what she really wanted was to wish Raider well on his journey.

  Too late now.

  “Yeah,” Chase continued, oblivious to her inner turmoil. “She’s already made three and is starting on a bigger willow basket. Maybe I should take up the practice—or teach myself to whittle.”

  “I’d sooner take a nap,” Jordan said.

  Chase chuckled. “Good point.”

  Jordan set her palms on the log, preparing to stand.

  “At least you’re getting a break from Mr. Big Shot.” Chase nodded his head in the direction in which Raider had disappeared.

  Jordan’s skin prickled, her bare arms bereft of the warmth Raider’s body had provided her early into morning. It felt like a truce of sorts—a bonding. A growl rose up her throat, a fierce need to stick up for her partner. “Raider’s putting his life on the line to search for David while we sit back, snug and secure in the hollow.”

  Chase frowned. “I want David back as much as anyone, and if Jager had allowed it, I would have joined the search party—both Hudson and I volunteered.”

  Jordan had to hold back a snort. Chase and Hudson didn’t strike her as the mighty cavalry who would charge forth and vanquish their enemies. Raider, on the other hand, was a force to be reckoned with. Goose bumps rose over her arms as she envisioned his naked, muscular body standing ov
er a pile of bloodied humans he’d beaten senseless—David in the background, clasping his hands together in tearful relief.

  She felt lightheaded, similar to when she drank Jager’s brew, but in a much better way. Gravity seemed to loosen its hold on her, and she was floating, barely attached to the log on which she sat.

  Hurry back, she thought, staring in the direction Raider had disappeared.

  As Chase studied her face, his lower lip pouted. “Raider has extra incentive to find David and bring him back. He’s going to love the bragging rights. He’ll be swaggering around the glade, acting like the sun and moon revolve around him.”

  “Raider cares more about the pack than his own safety,” Jordan snapped.

  Chase lifted his shoulders and leaned back, shooting Jordan a reproachful stare. “What’s gotten into you? Lately, you’ve been a real grouch.”

  “I’ve had a lot on my mind,” Jordan said, glancing at Emerson.

  Chase narrowed his eyes. “At least your sister’s still alive. Mine isn’t.”

  Jordan’s jaw tightened. “That’s not what this is about.”

  Why were they arguing? They never argued. In all their years as friends they rebuked packmates, but never each other.

  Chase stood up and shook his head. “All I know is ever since Emerson got sick, you’ve been looking for someone to blame and have used it to go after Taryn. I’m surprised you didn’t accuse her of trying to target Sydney then accidently luring David away instead.”

  Nostril’s flaring, Jordan jumped up. “Yeah? Well, this is some seriously messed-up shit, and maybe if you were a true friend, you’d show a little more concern for me and my sisters.”

  Tight frown on his face, Chase’s arms jerked at his sides. “I’ve always had your back, Jordan, and you know it.”

  “Oh, you had my back all right,” Jordan said. “Didn’t take long to see the backside of you after that. And while you were back at the ceremony enjoying yourself, Taryn tried to drown me.”