Mating Games

by Nikki Jefford

Who was it? Vallen? If Zackary’s father had come creeping into the hollow, he wouldn’t turn away until he had her by the throat.

  The wolf snarled and jumped for her, missing again when Jordan twisted and got around behind it. Her neck throbbed from being jerked, and she didn’t know how much longer she could keep this up.

  “Go away!” she yelled.

  Jordan bent down and dragged her fingernails in the soil, digging up as much as her fists would hold. Seeing her crouched, the wolf snarled louder, drool running from the corner of its lips in thick globs. It ran for her, and this time, Jordan threw dirt into its eyes. It stopped abruptly, snapping at the air, growling ferociously.

  Jordan ran for the tree, but the mad wolf jumped in front of her, all the hair standing up along the ridge of its back. Manic snarls burst through its glistening fangs, and the skin along its nose formed deep ridges, all rippling like a cold wave come to drown her. Most alarming of all, it held its ground, watching Jordan like a hawk monitoring a field mouse.

  She didn’t chance movement—she hardly dared breathe. The wolf remained still, but not silent—growling like a maniac, its snarls reached a fever pitch that made Jordan’s ears ring and her blood pressure rise.

  Ever so slowly, she inched back a step. The wolf’s jaws snapped open and closed, its eyes gleaming unnaturally. In that look, Jordan saw the promise of death. The oxygen left her lungs—a glimpse of her fate to come.

  No! This could not be the end of her. She didn’t want to die. Life was a precious gift, one she hadn’t appreciated enough.

  The tree loomed behind the wolf, its thick branches outstretched in encouragement. Run to me. Grab hold of my limbs and pull yourself to safety.

  Maybe she could get around the wolf again, but what were her chances of fooling it a third time? If she got a running start, perhaps she could jump and sail over it. Then again, it could just as easily spring up and close its jaws around her ankle or foot.

  Before she could decide, it lunged at her. Jordan screamed and lurched to the side. The wolf drew back, snarling, and slunk sideways to face her head-on. Jordan’s heart beat wildly, her rib cage squeezing in. The deranged beast was toying with her.

  Running out of options and out of time, Jordan sprinted at an angle. The wolf lunged in the same direction, and as soon as it did, Jordan changed course, her legs flying toward the tree, her brain hoping the misdirection had been sufficient in throwing the wolf off course long enough for her to make it up the trunk and to the safety of the branches above.

  Jordan’s heart plummeted as she saw, from the corner of her eye, the rabid wolf jerk and change course immediately, running for her. With it giving chase, there wasn’t time to stop and sidestep the crazed animal. Jordan’s only chance of escape came down to outrunning the wolf.

  She knew the likelihood of that. She was fast on two legs, but not faster than a wolf.

  Visions of her blood and skin torn to bits flashed through her mind as she ran. She wouldn’t stop. The wolf would have to take her down, and then she’d kick and punch with all her might.

  The wolf’s growls resounded in her eardrums, and its hot, moist breath blasted Jordan’s heels. As it closed in, a deafening growl rumbled through the thicket like thunder about to strike.

  Jordan turned in time to see Raider come crashing through the forest in wolf form, flying through the air right before he landed on the wolf’s back. Jordan dove out of the way, landing on her knees and palms. She flipped around, watching in terror as the mad wolf snarled beneath Raider. The snap of its lethal teeth felt like a steel trap clamping over Jordan’s racing heart. Luckily, Raider was out of reach, but only for a moment.

  The mad wolf’s hind legs caved under Raider’s weight, causing him to slide off onto the ground. With a snarl, the crazed wolf whipped around, growling with outrage. Raider didn’t back away. He didn’t even flinch as the wolf lunged for his throat.

  A scream filled Jordan’s lungs. Clawing the earth with her nails, she picked up the nearest rock and hurled it at the mad wolf. Either luck or raging fear gave her perfect aim. The rock smashed into the crazed wolf’s head. He gave a dazed yelp, a brief and hauntingly lucid sound, but this wolf was by no means sane.

  Raider had leapt aside in anticipation of the wolf’s attack. He looked as surprised as the mad wolf by the interruption.

  Jordan forgot to breathe as the mad wolf blinked. With his body trembling, deep wrinkles appeared along his snout as his lips lifted, revealing yellow fangs and foam dripping from them. The wolf’s growl rumbled like the coming of thunder before the crash of a storm.

  He came at Jordan so fast she only had time to scream and throw her hands up in a hopeless gesture against the wolf’s open mouth.

  A guttural growl shattered her scream. It entered her ears and vibrated through her entire body.

  A streak of gray fur flashed two feet off the ground as Raider lunged at the wolf and took him down sideways. His snarls sounded more crazed than the mad wolf’s as he ripped open its throat. The rabid wolf went still, blood from its open throat spilling onto the earth.

  On shaky legs, Jordan straightened, reaching out a hand to steady herself against the tree she’d tried so desperately to reach. No longer needing to climb it, she held herself upright against the trunk.

  The fur on Raider’s back still stood up. He glared at the dead wolf, watching it for any more signs of movement. Issuing one final sniff, Raider shifted. He crouched on the ground, his massive body quivering with the stress and exertion of the kill.

  Relief and guilt mingled inside Jordan’s mind with dizzying alacrity. They could have faced the threat together from the start if she hadn’t been so bullheaded. How ironic to realize that it was she, not Raider, who proved to be the real brute. Raider had put his life and sanity on the line for her. Without a moment’s hesitation, he’d risked it all.

  He’d always been selfless, putting the well-being of the pack before himself. Instead of appreciating his admirable qualities, Jordan had looked for faults where there were none.

  He remained crouched on the ground as Jordan approached slowly.

  What could she say? Thank you for saving my life. Sorry I stormed off.

  Thank-yous and apologies had always been difficult for her. She had no problem thinking them inside her head, but saying them was a different matter.

  Maybe the right words would emerge once she reached him.

  Raider stilled as she approached, but he didn’t look up.

  Inches from the naked shifter, words still evaded Jordan. To top it off, her legs felt unsteady standing so close to Raider. She must still be in shock from the attack.

  The silence stretched on. Jordan itched to break it, but every time she tried to thank him or apologize, the words got stuck in her throat.

  The next time she opened her mouth his name came out in a throaty rasp. “Raider.”

  It sounded desperate and carnal. Jordan didn’t recognize the voice as her own, yet her mouth had formed the syllables of his name.

  Raider’s attention snapped to her, his eyes wide and fervid. The rawness of that look felt like it could strip her bare. Before she could take a step back and calm her racing heart, Raider caught her arm and pulled her to the ground.

  He had her on her back faster than the time it took to draw breath. With sure fingers, he unfastened her jeans and yanked them down just enough to gain access between her legs. Jordan tilted her hips in consent, and he entered her with a raspy grunt.

  Raider groaned—in pleasure, perhaps, at finding her already wet. His eyes rolled back as he lifted his head in a momentary pause before he thrust inside of her again and again, as though it would kill him to stop.

  Jordan’s body throbbed with need. She panted with pleasure. If her legs weren’t hindered by her jeans, she would have wrapped them around his hips.

  Raider hammered her into t
he ground with a guttural moan. He panted and gasped, driving Jordan out of her mind with need. He filled her completely, stretching and rubbing against all her pleasure points.

  “Don’t stop,” she gasped, bewildered by her own words. This wasn’t what she ever imagined saying to him—not in her wildest dreams.

  Even as he ground against her, triggering waves of pleasure that reached all the way to her core, it seemed more of a dream than reality.

  She kept expecting him to tire out, to take her hard and fast on the ground before emptying inside her and collapsing from the exertion. But Raider apparently possessed a limitless reserve of energy. His hips ground relentlessly against hers as he buried himself to the hilt before withdrawing just enough to do it again.

  Living up to his name, Raider’s ruthless onslaught smothered all other thoughts. He had only one speed. Fast. Only one stroke. Hard.

  He fucked like a beast.

  Sobbing her satisfaction, Jordan arched beneath the mass of muscle crashing against her. Raider’s eyes turned lambent with the continuous cries that tore through her lips.

  Letting go completely, Jordan gave into the full throes of pleasure, moaning with abandon. Something was happening inside her, something she’d never felt before. Ecstasy built to a crescendo, lifting her body off the ground and curling her toes.

  She felt as if she were soaring and exploding, no longer wolf or woman, but more of a starburst as she tightened moments before she came with a velocity that catapulted her into the heavens.

  As her body went slack, Raider’s vigor increased until he went suddenly rigid and threw his head back with a roar that sounded neither human nor wolf.

  With his size, he might have crushed her if he hadn’t thrown his arms out and caught himself as he pitched forward, burying his face between her breasts.

  They lay against one another, breathing heavily. Even running at full speed had never stolen the breath out of Jordan’s lungs so thoroughly as Raider had. Several spasms coursed through his chest, and he shivered over her, rubbing against the thin fabric covering her chest.

  Yet again, Jordan found herself lost for words. For once, she felt a “thanks” on the tip of her tongue. Thanks for the most explosive sex I’ve ever had.

  Well, if there was ever a reason to thank someone, this definitely screamed for exception.

  Jordan might have laughed if Raider wasn’t still inside her, their bodies pressed and bound together. Oddly, it felt more intimate than fucking.

  She squirmed beneath him, and Raider got the hint, lifting slowly off her chest, but not before surprising her with a soft kiss against her temple.

  What she never expected was the feeling of emptiness when he pulled out of her. It was as though a vital connection had been severed.

  Once on his feet, Raider reached down and helped Jordan up. Her lashes lowered as she glanced at his hand on hers—the same one that had pulled her down before they fucked. Jordan pulled her hands free to yank up her jeans. The dead wolf lay three feet away. She’d forgotten all about the crazed animal during their lovemaking. She glanced at it uneasily now, thinking Raider was sure to notice, as well, but his attention was fixed on her fingers as she pulled up the zipper on her pants and fumbled with the button he’d released so easily. The desire in his eyes as he watched made Jordan feel lightheaded. He couldn’t want her again so soon, could he?

  Whichever shifter ended up as Raider’s mate better have enough stamina to keep up with such a passionate, virile male.

  Something ugly coiled tight before snapping inside Jordan’s stomach. Those bitches better keep their paws off—especially her sisters.

  When her own thoughts hit her, she blinked rapidly, feeling disorientated and confused. One good fuck, and her brain had momentarily turned to mush. She sounded as obsessive as Camilla.

  But those were only thoughts. Raider had rendered Jordan speechless. Luckily, the dead wolf caught his eye, saving them both from having to talk about what they’d just done.

  Raider frowned at the wolf. “It probably followed Garrick’s trail of blood to the hollow. Whoever this wolf was, he wasn’t one of ours.”

  So much for hoping Vallen had finally been put down.

  Rather than meet Raider’s eye, Jordan focused her attention on the wolf.

  “Glenn Meadows, maybe?” Her dazed voice drew Raider’s attention. His gaze tingled along her skin, but she forced herself not to look at him. Her body and mind were still reeling, trying unsuccessfully to drag their awareness away from the imprint of him between her legs and seed he’d left behind, which mingled with her own slick heat.

  “Maybe,” Raider answered gently.

  The lingering silence felt sensual, like a soft breeze gliding over Jordan’s body, trailing its lingering touch along every crevice. She cleared her throat. “What now? With the wolf, I mean,” she added with a flush.

  Raider saved her from further embarrassment by considering the dead wolf at his feet rather than tease her—a quality she greatly appreciated. “We need to get it to the glade for burning.”

  Jordan frowned at the animal. It was heavy, and her body was deliciously spent, but rabid wolves were always disposed of by fire. Burning it near so many trees, especially at the height of summer, was too risky. The glade had a big open area and plenty of kindling at the ready to incinerate the dead wolf.

  Jordan took a step toward it.

  “I’ve got him.” Raider bent down and hoisted the animal over his shoulders, holding it by its limp legs. “Let’s go.” He stood waiting.

  Realizing he wanted her to lead the way, Jordan took hurried steps forward and proceeded to set a course for the glade that provided the least number of obstacles as Raider carried the wolf. Jordan searched the ground for sharp rocks, thorns, and reptiles. Coming across a garden snake slithering across an open stretch of ground, Jordan stopped and nudged the ground near it with her toe to urge it along.

  Raider waited silently behind her, following without comment.

  They arrived at the glade about an hour before the first dinner shift. Janelle stoked the fire beneath the cauldron as they emerged. Raider passed Jordan, moving swiftly to the unlit bonfire, where he dumped the dead wolf on the ground.

  Janelle clutched her throat.

  “Mad wolf,” Jordan said in a far-off voice.

  Raider pressed his hand against his forehead and stared down. “I’ll get Jager.” Lowering his hand, he looked at Jordan. “Be right back.”

  She nodded. He took off for Jager’s hut at a fast clip, but before Jordan could gather her wits, Janelle was at her side, chattering like an alarmed squirrel.

  “Where did it come from? Who was it? I didn’t hear any howling.”

  “I was in human form when it attacked,” Jordan said.

  Janelle’s eyes expanded. She looked Jordan over for wounds, her gaze returning to Jordan’s face when she found none.

  “How did you kill it?”

  “Raider did.”

  “With his bare hands?”

  Jordan inhaled and exhaled slowly. “No. In wolf form.”

  Janelle clasped her hands over her heart. “He could have been turned mad.”

  “But he wasn’t.”

  Twisting her lips to the side, Janelle shot Jordan an appraising look. “You’re much calmer than I could ever be.”

  Jordan’s eyes narrowed. She knew what the she-wolf meant by that. Unfeeling. Cold. She falsely assumed that Jordan had not feared for Raider’s safety when, in reality, it had been the single most frightening moment of her life. She wasn’t about to explain that to Taryn’s faithful underling.

  Jager limped into the clearing, making his way to the dead wolf. He stood over it, staring down, and waited until Raider entered from the opposite side of the glade, carrying an ax.

  Jordan met up with Raider by the dead wolf.


  “We’ll chop off one of its legs and bury it to dig up the next time a Glenn Meadows shifter comes by,” Jager said. “They might be able to identify it.”

  “Step back,” Raider said.

  Jordan and Jager moved aside as Raider lifted the ax and brought it down over one of the dead wolf’s front legs, severing it near the elbow. Nausea rose inside Jordan’s gut. She pushed it down.

  While Raider set the detached leg aside and placed the wolf on top of the kindling, Jordan went to the cauldron and pulled out a flaming stick from below, taking hold of the end untouched by fire. She carried it over carefully and held it against dry leaves bunched among twigs and logs. Piece by piece, the kindling caught fire, adding smoke to the bleak trail rising into the sky.

  The wolf’s body caught fire, and the smell permeated the air by the time shifters began arriving for dinner, their noses wrinkling as they entered the glade and took hesitant steps toward the bonfire. News traveled from shifter to shifter in quiet murmurs. Raider stood aside with his arms folded and Jager beside him. Emerson and Sasha joined them, soon followed by Palmer, Ford, and Heidi. Someone must have been dispatched to gather the council together. Once they were all present, they left the clearing in the direction of Jager’s hut.

  Jordan’s eyes latched onto Raider, following his movements as he receded into the forest. She could still feel him inside her like the last traces of light after the sun set below the horizon.

  After he’d gone, she searched the glade, locating Chase, who stood frozen, staring into the bonfire. It had to be painful for him after watching his sister’s body burn barely two months ago.

  “You okay?” Jordan asked, taking the spot beside him.

  Chase glanced sideways. “Yeah. You? I heard it was in your territory.”

  “Raider killed it.”

  “Lucky neither of you got bit.”

  “Yeah.” Jordan released a deep breath.

  “At least this wasn’t one of ours,” Chase said. “Whoever he was, he’s been put out of his misery. May he run forever free,” Chase added in a sarcastic tone, flicking his wrist in the direction of the fire. He glanced over his shoulder at the line for stew. “Well, I suppose we’d better eat.”