by Terry Spear
“I must have missed that lesson,” she said.
“Pity.”
Maverick had been remiss in his brotherly duties then. Hence, the reason she was here, unprotected and alone with him, one of the most dangerous wolves in North America. His eyes narrowed as he watched her. Clearly, she didn’t recognize the danger he posed.
That was a mistake.
He didn’t intend to harm her, but she didn’t know that.
She’d made his plans easy for him, far too easy for his liking. The spare key to her apartment had been hidden directly under the sunflower doormat. Not that he couldn’t have picked the lock, but that trusting inclination of hers would make his job more difficult, get her into trouble. At the very least, if the fire blazing in her green eyes was any indication, he could lead a she-wolf to water, but he couldn’t make her drink.
Good girl, Mae-day.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“At the moment?” He grinned. “Observing.”
Her eyes widened in realization. From the way her shoulders tensed, she was painfully aware of exactly what he’d just observed.
That made two of them.
“How long have you been there?” She sounded breathless, throaty. All too similar to the noises she’d made.
“Long enough.” A smirk crossed his lips as he raked his gaze over her. “Don’t worry, Princess. I only arrived during the grand finale.”
She blushed, and his cock gave an eager jerk. No. Maeve Grey was no longer meant for the likes of him, but after that little display, he was still as hard as a damn diamond. Old habits died hard, he supposed. At fifteen, he’d been so crazy in love with her that he could scarcely see straight. But that had been when he was young, naive, before he’d learned the hard way that love was for fools who enjoyed tragedy and that she’d never be his. They lived in different worlds now, universes apart, and it’d been so long since he’d cared for anyone that Rogue wasn’t even sure his black heart remembered how.
Even if he wanted to love her, he’d never be worthy of her.
But fuck, if he didn’t still want her.
He gave her another once-over. Despite her large green eyes and spritely features, many a Montana cowboy would overlook her. With her thin frame and dark-brown hair so short, a lesser man would have said she wasn’t feminine enough—boyish even. But only a blind man could miss the plumpness of her pink mouth, the delicate curve of her hips, and the perky breasts hidden beneath her nightgown. They were no more than a handful, but enough to taste, to lick, to tease, and that was all before the scent of her sex had filled his nose. Now that he knew the delicious sounds she made when she came…
That was even more dangerous.
He stepped toward her, and she growled, raising the book higher.
He nearly chuckled. “If I wanted to hurt you, I could have done so while you were…”
“I thought I was alone.” Beneath his gaze, the crimson on her cheeks grew deeper by the second until there wasn’t an inch of pink in sight. “S-sometimes I need help sleeping,” she stammered.
He quirked a brow in amusement. As if she needed an excuse to want pleasure…
Slowly, he prowled toward her, closing the distance between them. She shouldn’t feel ashamed. She was fucking beautiful. He plucked the book from her hands, disarming her. “And what keeps you up at night, Maeve Grey?” He leaned in close, his breath a whisper against her ear. “Whose face do you think of as you pleasure yourself? Some valiant Grey Wolf Prince Charming?”
Perhaps the clean-cut packmaster she’d danced with all evening.
Her eyes flashed to the golden color of her wolf, and she snarled at him.
Confirmation enough, as far as he was concerned. The predictability in that annoyed him.
Immediately, she changed the subject. “If it’s my brother you’re here for, your timing couldn’t be worse,” she said.
Of course she’d think he was here for her beast of a brother. Her whole life would have centered around living in his shadow.
Maverick Grey was a massive warrior-sized thorn in Rogue’s side. Bloodshed between the rogue wolves and the packmasters who treated them as second-class citizens wasn’t Rogue’s goal, particularly when it came to Maverick Grey. The Grey Wolf packmaster was one of Rogue’s fiercer and more formidable opponents, rivaled on the battlefield by only a select few, himself included. In that regard, he had a healthy respect for the self-righteous bastard. He and Maverick had squared off indirectly more than once, battling like a heated game of chess. Rogue was more a thief than a murderer, procuring resources and securing backroom deals for his kind, but if he could screw the Grey Wolves over in the process, all the better.
Not that there wasn’t a fair share of blood on his hands.
“It’s not your brother I’m interested in, Princess.”
Had she been in wolf form, Rogue had no doubt her fur would have bristled. “I’m no princess,” she growled.
Clearly, he’d struck a nerve.
“You aren’t going to hurt me,” he said.
“You say that as if you know me.”
“I do know you, Mae.” Those words were truer than she’d realize. “I knew you the moment you made a deal with me in the vampires’ cells. The only thing I didn’t know was how soon we’d meet again.” He retreated on that enigmatic statement and sank into a nearby recliner, draping his legs across the arm, his old, black leather cowboy boots crossed at the ankles. “Are you not Maeve, daughter of Thomas and Sharla Grey? Younger sister to Maverick, the current packmaster of the Grey Wolves?”
She didn’t respond. They both knew the answer to that.
“Have you not lived a life full of privilege and leisure, sitting atop your pedestal in the Versailles that is Wolf Pack Run? Protected, cared for, safe…”
He’d given everything, nearly lost his own life to ensure she had those comforts and yet…
“All while you turned down your nose at the rest of us.”
At all rogues, the packless wolves among their kind.
Wolves like him.
The benefits of pack life were plentiful: a built-in support network, a safe home base, a guaranteed income, bountiful monetary and educational resources, and most importantly, protection from outsiders. Whether they were threatened by other shifter clans, vampires, the hunters of the Execution Underground, or even human law enforcement, pack wolves held a distinct advantage in survival.
It was a sheer numbers game. Rogue knew that firsthand. Rogue wolves were loners by either birth or circumstance, and the numbers weren’t on their side. They were outcasts, misfits, the vagabonds of their world. Pack wolves like Mae would never understand. She would never know what it was like to go hungry, to not have a home, to be a pariah among both wolves and humanity.
“I’ve never done anything to the rogues,” she said.
“Exactly.” He sneered. “Let them eat cake.”
Just like the rest of them. He’d do well to remember that. She’d done nothing, said nothing, while those without a pack lived a life harder than she’d ever know. He’d come to expect it by now. They all did, yet she disappointed him more than most.
Because he’d once thought her better than that.
He scowled. They were the ignorant dreams of a silly boy.
She’s not for you, and she never will be…
Mae’s hands balled into fists. “My cage may be different from yours, but it’s still a cage.”
He tilted his head. That’s what she thought of the privileged life he’d given her?
He shouldn’t have been surprised. They both had something the other wanted. She had the protection of the Seven Range Pact for her family. He had true freedom, what she’d wanted ever since they were children all those years ago. Freedom she’d never known, and from the desire in her eyes, freedom she
still wanted—badly.
What he wouldn’t give to see her enjoy just a taste of it.
“And what about you? What saint are you to point out my flaws?” she asked. “How are my sins any worse than yours?” She counted off his crimes on her fingers. “Thievery, bribery, extortion, breaking and entering… I’m sure I’m missing some.”
“You forgot grand larceny, but I’ll excuse it this time.” He grinned. Her list only touched the tip of the iceberg, but the challenge in her eyes stirred something low in his belly. He rose to his feet. “But there’s one key difference between you and me, Princess.”
She bristled at the nickname again.
Slowly, he stepped toward her, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “I don’t pretend to be the good guy.”
Her eyes flashed to her wolf. She was a spitfire, and he liked that more than he cared to admit.
“If you didn’t come for my brother, then who? What shifter of the Seven Range Pact are you here to extort, or do you just enjoy taunting me?” Her words were spit like venom, but he’d been bitten by worse vipers.
“I have no interest in the Seven Range Pact.”
Her eyes narrowed as if she didn’t believe him. “But why the risk then? I could have exposed you.”
“We both knew you wouldn’t. I walked straight into that reception and practically served myself up on a platter for your brother and the Pact, yet you didn’t so much as utter a word.”
“Of course I didn’t,” she snapped. “We had a deal.”
“You’re a woman of your word, Maeve Grey. I knew that from the start. But even for an honest woman like you, a promise to an enemy is fool’s gold in the face of protecting your pack. It’s not the deal we struck that made me trust in your silence. It’s more than that.”
“I kept my word. That’s all.”
“Don’t lie, Mae. Not to me.”
“You need to leave.” Her mouth drew into that angry, delicious pucker that made him envision what would happen if he pressed his lips against hers. He’d make her melt against him, part those tightened lips with ease.
“Tell me the true reason you didn’t expose me, and I’m gone.”
And there it was, the challenge sparked in her eyes, and before she could think better of it, she was squaring off with him. “I didn’t tell them because I didn’t want to.” She said the words as if she hated it, as if the truth angered her. “I wanted to keep it my secret. Make my own choice for once.”
So Maeve Grey wanted to emerge from beneath the pressure of her brother’s thumb, and he was her means to do it.
“That, I believe,” he purred. This was the Maeve he knew. She might not have recognized who he truly was, but she was still intrigued…by him, by the darkness, by everything that was forbidden to her. She always had been. He’d known that from the start.
“Now go,” she said, pointing toward the door again. “I won’t let you ruin our chances with Alexander. My packmates depend on it.” From the fire in her eyes, she’d do anything to protect those she cared for.
Their goals were more alike than she knew.
“Don’t worry, Princess. I already have what I need.”
She frowned. “And what is that exactly?”
A devious grin crossed his lips. “You.”
“Me?” Slowly, she backed away. “You said you would leave.”
He grinned. “Fool’s gold, remember?”
A look of panic came over her. She hadn’t been afraid before, but she was now. Good. Let her see the real him. Nothing deserving her intrigue. He was the monster in the darkness, the wolf hidden in the shadows. Everything she should stay away from.
Without warning, she darted past him, but he didn’t try to stop her. She wouldn’t go far. She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a massive butcher knife from the knife block, wielding it like a weapon. At least it was better than a book.
He sauntered in after her. “Does brandishing cutlery make you feel better?”
Her gaze darted between him and the blade. “Yes.”
“Then by all means.” He leaned against her granite countertop, ignoring the knife. He knew she wouldn’t dare use it. Not this time. “Don’t worry, Princess. I’m not going to hurt you.”
That wasn’t a part of the plan. Even he didn’t prey on the vulnerable. He’d caused trouble for the Grey Wolves more than once, but he had every intention of protecting Mae, even with his life if necessary. It was a shame she had no idea what she was worth or the power she held. Any of the leaders at that reception earlier would have fought any battle, shed any amount of blood, if they knew her true value like he did. But they didn’t. Not yet.
A life as a criminal had its perks.
He slid his hand over the granite countertop as he moved toward her. The onyx rings on his fingers flashed in the dim glow. “You wanted to make your own choices, and I’m offering you your first one.”
He watched with a grin as she lowered the knife ever so slightly. He saw right through her. She’d made her choice the moment she’d chosen not to expose him to the Pact.
If she knew what was good for her, she’d never make a deal with a wolf like him, but Mae had never been afraid, even when they’d been children and he’d been a scared, mean little boy without a friend in the world.
He was no longer that scared little boy who could save her from the darkness, because he was the darkness. And if Maeve Grey wanted the freedom of life lived in the shadows…well, then he’d give it to her.
Chapter 3
Mae held the blade steady. “What are you offering?” she asked.
Apparently, she hadn’t learned her lesson after making a deal with him the first time. She watched the Rogue with wary eyes, careful of any sudden movement he made. She didn’t think he was here to hurt her, but she was smart enough not to fully trust him either.
She wasn’t about to underestimate a wolf like him.
He straightened from where he leaned against the counter to his full height until he towered over her. All long limbs corded with muscle. He moved with the languid grace of a predator. She’d only seen that kind of movement from a handful of the strongest Grey Wolf alpha warriors. The warriors with the darkest pasts and the most enemy deaths to their name.
“The kind of deal that gets you allies far more powerful than Alexander,” he answered.
He stepped into the dim glow of the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window and Mae gasped. Up close in the vampire cells, she’d noticed his scars, a sharp contrast to the intact side of his face, which revealed a chiseled chin, sharp cheekbones, and a regal blade of a nose. But in the cells, his scars had been cast in fiery dungeon shadows. Now, as he prowled closer, his full features emerged. The moonlight highlighted his past wounds in stark relief. Several large scars marred the right side, stretching from above his brow all the way to his chin. They gnarled and puckered the smooth skin, showing clear evidence of the dark life he lived.
For a wolf not to heal, even from a wound like that, the blade that cut him had to have been drenched in liquid silver. Once the metal particles entered the bloodstream, a shifter’s healing ability was stunted and functioned little better than that of a human. It was a cruel, vile technique meant to maim and destroy, practiced only among the worst of their kind.
Whoever had done that to him had intended to kill him and failed…
Mae’s heart pounded in her chest as she struggled to draw breath. He was as intimidating as he was beautiful. The scars were horrifying, and they should have made him alarming to look at, terrifying even, but they only made him breathtaking somehow. Powerful. She couldn’t bring herself to look away.
What she wouldn’t give to be able to capture his likeness. To have him sit for her as she replicated the challenging planes of his face in graphite. He’d be a difficult but worthwhile subject. Carefully, she studied h
is face, the sharp caverns of his cheekbones and the coldness of his icy blue eyes. There was something so familiar about that wicked gaze that stopped her breath short.
A dark smirk crossed his lips, the one that both irked her and did unimaginable things between her legs. To think he’d just watched as she’d…
Another blush flooded her cheeks.
His mischievous grin widened as if he caught her thoughts.
“Do you know anything about snake venom, Mae?” he asked, catching her off guard.
She gave him a once-over. “No, but I imagine you do.” She’d never met another wolf who reminded her more of a coiled viper prepared to strike. It was as intriguing as it was unnerving.
“You can’t make antivenom without the original source. The venom is the base of the antidote.” Those cold eyes raked over her. “And right now, you’re the vampires’ perfect kind of poison.”
Mae stiffened. “What do you mean?”
“There’s a bloodsucker, one of the vampires’ scientists. He was one of the key developers in creating the vampires’ serum.”
“The serum from my blood?”
“None other. Ever since I learned what those bloodsuckers were up to, I’ve been tracking him, but he’s gone off the grid. Vanished. Likely on his coven leader’s orders. To protect their secrets.”
“And how do you know this?”
“I’m a dealer in secrets and favors, Mae. You know that well, and when you’re a wolf like me, you know the right questions to ask from the right sources.”
His answer was more cryptic than she cared for, but she didn’t press further. “And what does that have to do with me?” she asked.
“Everything.” He eased closer. “Before he vanished, this bloodsucker was tasked with finding a way to make the serum he’d created from your blood foolproof, perfect for widespread use against shifters, but word on the street is he found a way to counteract the serum. There’s only one antidote, a counterinjection that reverses the effects of the serum…”
Mae’s breath caught. An antidote to the vampires’ serum would be the Grey Wolves’ saving grace. Everything they’d needed from Alexander and more.
