Fated Mate: Paranormal Werewolf Romance (Fated Mountain Wolf Pack Book 1)

by Jessica Aspen

  The blonde hung onto the door handle far longer than Aaron expected, her long legs pumping to keep up as the vehicle gathered momentum. Her dad revved the engine as he hit the curve, and the handle ripped out of her hand. She fell, dirt and gravel flying from the spinning tires and spitting into her face.

  Aaron started to go to her, but she only hesitated a moment before getting up and taking off down the steep road after the car, her little white sneakers moving double-time. Neither one of them looked back to see Aaron step out of his hiding spot and retrieve the phone. Leon was still on the line and pissed as hell.

  “Boss.”

  “Hide her for a week, Aaron. Someplace no one will look for her. That cabin you’re staying at should work. Fuck, I’m screwed. That loser had better pay up. The payment to Fat Juan is overdue and there’s no way in hell I’m going to be short, not because of that bastard.”

  Aaron stared after the blonde as she booked it down the road chasing after the dust cloud—all that was left of her father’s car. Man, could she run. He tilted his head to get a better view. She had a nice ass too.

  “This isn’t in my pay-grade, boss. I can’t hold a strange woman at my cabin. It’s kidnapping.”

  “Fuck you, Aaron. That dirt-bag owes me fifty large and if I don’t get it, Fat Juan will cut off my nuts. I need the money, not some whore I have to re-sell. You keep her, and I’ll put some muscle on to him. It won’t take long. He’ll pay.”

  Aaron snorted. “Not my problem.”

  “Make it work, Aaron, and I’ll give you a bonus.”

  “You know what I want.” His pulse picked up. Finally, after months of taking Leon’s shit, he had a chance.

  The silence on the phone stretched out. Aaron watched the blonde disappear around the corner.

  Leon sighed. “Shit. Okay, but the price is going up.”

  “She’s leaving right now. She’s almost out of sight. Fat Juan will be disappointed.”

  Aaron waited. He could almost hear Leon’s sweat over the phone, and it made him smile.

  “Fine. Same price. Go get her.”

  Aaron’s adrenaline surged, his pulse racing into the red. This was it! The moment he’d been waiting for. The land was almost within his grasp.

  His skin tightened into the push to shift, to become his wolf. He shoved it down deep inside and evened his breathing—so the human on the other end of the phone wouldn’t have any idea of his excitement at achieving his goal just when he’d given up on it.

  “I want the paperwork done today and sent to my lawyer,” he said, managing to keep his voice level. “I’ll check tomorrow. If the deed’s not there, the girl goes free. And, Leon, I’m only holding her for one week. If the loser doesn’t pay up, you’ll have to send someone after him. She’ll be gone. And so will I.”

  More silence, longer this time.

  “Yeah, whatever.” Another weighty sigh. “Fuck. I’m too old for this crap.”

  “You and me both.” Aaron turned off the ear piece and considered his options: how did he convince the pretty blonde to go with him, a complete stranger, when her father had just sold her into slavery?

  Chapter Two

  Gwynn slowed her run down the steep mountain road, almost sliding to a stop on the tiny bits of gravel. Black spots capered in front of her eyes, and she bent over, sucking thin mountain air into burning lungs. Daddy Dear wasn’t stopping. In fact, she couldn’t even hear the car anymore. She straightened up and looked around, coughing out the dust choking her mouth like a clogged vacuum cleaner hose.

  What the hell was she going to do? An hour ago she’d gazed out at the snowy mountains and thought they were lovely. Now the rugged, empty landscape was her enemy.

  Dark clouds had moved in over the peaks and muted the bright sunshine. Down on the plains it was a warm spring day, but up here there was still snow on the ground. The wind was cold. And only getting colder. Her shoulder ached from nearly being ripped out of its socket. She rubbed it, shivering.

  Growing up in Denver she’d lived in sight of the Rockies all her life, but, except for one summer at Y-camp when she was ten, she’d never spent any time in them. No car and no money meant no fun weekend trips. No skiing or shopping. No playing in the resorts. When her dad had showed up, she’d been thrilled her city-boy father wanted to share his new passion for the mountains with her. Stupid.

  That old familiar pain in the pit of her stomach was back. She stuffed her hands into her pockets and huddled deeper into her hoodie, searching for some kind of comfort in the empty landscape.

  There was nothing out here. Now that the her dad and the car were gone, she realized how quiet it really was. Tall, skinny pines rose high above her head, obscuring the view around the bend, and the only sound she heard was their creaking in the wind. She shivered.

  When was the last time she’d seen a car? Way before Herb had pulled over, that’s for sure. Didn’t people ski or something? Shouldn’t there be someone?

  She should call 911. Someone would come. Automatically, she reached for her phone—and found nothing. A deep chill swept through her. Her purse and phone were still in the damn car.

  Night would be here soon. Even she knew the temperatures would drop, and she was already cold. Without her phone, she had no way to get ahold of anyone.

  Damn it. Her new phone. Her dad would probably sell it too.

  A small, bitter laugh escaped her. She had no water, no food, and no clue where she was. No one would send search and rescue for her because the only people who knew where she was were her dear dad, and whoever had been on the phone.

  Sudden adrenaline pumped through her veins. Phone.

  She turned back up the road and ran up the steep hill to the overlook and the falling rock sign. Out of breath, panting, she dropped to her knees, searching frantically through the scrubby dead grass for the phone. She searched for ten futile minutes, finally sitting back on her haunches, her hands scraped and bleeding. “Where the hell is it?”

  Herb had tossed the phone here, she was sure of it. She could remember seeing it land in the brush. But it was gone. Gone, like it had never existed. Gone, like someone had removed it.

  Her heartbeat surged, crowding her dry throat, and she scrambled to her feet, looking up and down the empty road. But no one was there. Herb must have tossed the cell further than she’d thought, but she didn’t have time to look. She couldn’t stay here. She had to get moving, get away from here. Her dad’s money men would come for her soon and there was no way she would be here when they did.

  She got to her feet and brushed the dirt off her hands, scanning the deserted landscape. At some point on the drive, they’d passed some buildings, a town? She thought it had been a long time ago. Maybe an hour’s driving? The futility of walking that far sank through her. What had taken an hour to drive would take her hours, possibly well into dark, for her to get there. The wind picked up, creating a low whistle through the trees that ended in a sharp creak.

  Gwynn jumped. There were bears here in the Rockies. Bears, and mountain lions, and God only knew what else. She couldn’t stand here and wait for something to come eat her, and she wouldn’t wait for her dad’s buddies.

  Walking was going to take forever, but standing here wasn’t going to do any good. Clouds had rolled in, and the air smelled damp, even to a city-girl. Rain was coming...fast. And night would be right behind it. Even in Denver the Colorado nights could get cold. She couldn’t imagine how low the temperature was going to drop. She couldn’t stay here any longer. She had to get moving.

  She started the long walk, the desperation of her circumstances just beginning to sink in. People died up here and everyone talked about how stupid they were. How they should have known better. Been prepared. Was that going to be her epitaph? News flash at eleven: stupid city girl dies in mountains.

  Her whole body ached, and even after her run, she still couldn’t get warm. Movement down the mountainside caught her eye. Near a bend in the road, a man emerged from
the woods. She stiffened, narrowing her eyes to get a better look through the graying afternoon light. Tall, back-pack over his shoulders, laced-up shit-kickers. Not a whiff of the streets about him, just pure mountain man. The rush of relief made her lightheaded.

  “Hello?”

  He barely glanced at her. Instead, he aimed for the trail across the road and disappeared into the trees.

  “Hey! Wait up!” She ran after him.

  He stopped, waiting at the edge of the forest, already two steps in. Breath catching in altitude-tight lungs, she halted suddenly, much further away than she’d planned.

  Whoa.

  Gray eyes started at her feet, taking their time as they traced up her body, tracing danger up her spine.

  He was bigger than she’d thought, and close up he looked hard and hungry. Well over six-foot, with slightly curling black hair, a scruffy three-day-old beard, and a silver stud in one ear. But this was no Pirate Jack. This man was all hard, bulging muscle under his tight, white T-shirt and jeans—definitely more lumberjack than pirate.

  Gwynn swallowed hard. “Hey.” She hovered on the side of the road, unsure of what to do, now that she’d gotten his attention.

  He finished his examination and finally met her eyes. Her panting breaths were suddenly shorter. Her gut said, ‘Back away—danger! Danger!’

  But this danger wasn’t the kind she was familiar with, growing up on the edge of the seedier side of town. He wasn’t a street thug or a pimp. She knew what those people looked like, smelled like. She’d seen enough of them, when her dad drove them into the neighborhoods her mom struggled to keep them out of. This man felt like a different kind of threat.

  He had a stillness about him. The kind that said he would move in an instant. The kind that would come in handy if Herb’s buddies showed up. The lethal kind.

  Still, she hesitated. Lightning cracked in the distance and the air was heavy with the coming rain. A big storm was nearly here, and she was miles away from Denver, miles away from anywhere. She had no other way off of the mountain besides this man—unless she waited for Herb’s associates.

  She put on a bright face. “Hi! I’m a little lost, got separated from my group. Can you help me find the nearest town?”

  He didn’t say a word.

  The wind whipped her hair into her face. She tugged a long strand out of her mouth, tucking it behind her ear as she shifted on her feet and searched the empty road for a station wagon full of tourists, a lone hippie bus, any alternative to this man. This dark, dangerous man.

  “Or better yet,” she tried again, “Can I borrow your phone? I need to call someone.”

  “Sorry.” He shrugged. “My cell’s back at my cabin.”

  “Maybe you can give me directions?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Are you walking? There isn’t a town for twenty miles on this road.” The slight gravel undertone in his voice triggered an unwanted responsive quiver deep inside her belly.

  This was not someone she should trust. So why was the sound of his voice so compelling?

  “No town for twenty miles? You’re sure?”

  Damn. She ran every morning, about three miles, sometimes four. Twenty was a long way. If her memory served her, the road didn’t just go down, but curved back up the side of the big mountain. It wouldn’t be an easy trip. Her lungs were already bursting from the unaccustomed lack of oxygen.

  A cold drop of rain hit her cheek and she looked up at the darkening sky.

  “You can take the trail.” He pointed back the way he’d come, into the dense trees. “It’s shorter, but steeper. Should only take you about three hours. The road’ll take longer. Of course, it’s getting dark.”

  He stood there, his face neutral, as she decided what to do. Stood there as if it didn’t affect him one way or the other, and he had plenty of time to wait on her response. Another icy raindrop hit her face, sliding down her cheek.

  A sudden complete understanding of her current situation formed a vivid picture in Gwynn’s head. She was in the middle of nowhere. No food, no phone, no resources. She didn’t know where she was and she hadn’t seen another car for hours.

  No one was going to look for her. Or if they did, it would be someone disastrous.

  Jazz-stepping black spots cavorted in her vision, and the road tilted.

  “Hey, hold on there.” The stranger pulled off his pack, unzipped it, and dug deep. He held out a water bottle. “You thirsty?”

  The sight of water made her dry, sticky mouth even drier. He held the bottle out at arm’s length and waited for her to reach for it. His gray eyes stayed steady on hers and in them, she thought she saw a glimmer of empathy.

  What was wrong with her? He was a complete stranger. He’d come out of nowhere, no connection to her dad or his cronies. There was no reason for her not to take the water.

  She extended out a slow, hesitant hand. “Thanks.”

  “No worries.”

  She took the bottle. His fingertips grazed hers and a sizzle of attraction tickled her skin. What the hell? She stepped back, cracked it open, and took a long swig, averting her eyes from his sudden intense gaze. Stale water washed down her throat like a cool piece of heaven.

  “I have a trail bar too.” He didn’t move any closer but offered it at the end of his long arm.

  “Are you sure? Do you have enough for you?” He didn’t look like someone who would sacrifice himself for a stranger. He looked hard and more than capable of looking out for himself. “Didn’t you say we were a long way from anything?”

  “Don’t worry, I’m fine.” His arm stayed stretched out, the packet dangling at the end. She took a step closer and took it from his fingers.

  The sizzle of his touch once again licked up her palm.

  She scuttled back, nearly dropping the bar. Cripes! What was wrong with her? This man was a stranger, why was her body acting like she was starving for his touch instead of starving for food?

  She clutched the bar to her. No, wait. She was wrong, dead wrong. This wasn’t attraction shuddering through her body. It was hunger, simply regular old hunger.

  It had been hours since her morning bagel and coffee. Her cheapskate father hadn’t even fed her, and she’d been through a huge amount of stress. Her body was desperate for food. That’s why she was reacting this way, nothing more.

  She ripped open the package and tore into the dense nuts and fruit. The food hit her system and she began to feel better, less dizzy.

  “Thanks.”

  The stranger watched her eat as if waiting for something from her. Her instinctive wariness began to creep back.

  “Listen, I’m on the way to my cabin,” he said. “It’s closer than town, and we can get my phone.”

  All her practicality, all her hard lessons learned, all her street smarts screamed danger. It was in every horror movie she’d ever watched. Don’t go to the cabin in the woods! Especially not with someone like him—dark, hot, sexy.

  If they’d met at a bar in Denver she would have turned him over to her girlfriends who liked to be devoured. She didn’t go after the scary men. Her type were the nice guys. Nerds. Geeks.

  Never the dangerous men. Those were the men who kissed and told. Those were the men who screwed you and left. Those were the men who abandoned their families.

  But there were no nice men here. Only this man, with his tough good looks, and his couldn’t-care-less attitude. A man whose gaze sent electric trickles down her spine.

  Three more icy droplets hit her nose, sliding off to the side. The wind picked up, blowing in dark, ominous clouds. She pulled the soft fabric of her hoodie over her head and wished again for a better jacket that might stay dry.

  The stranger lifted his head and sniffed the moisture-laden air. He squatted down and dug deep into his pack again pulling out a black poncho. “Here.”

  “I can’t. You need it.”

  He snorted, a gleam of dark humor in his odd silvery eyes. “Lady, I’m nowhere near the shape you’re in.”
He thrust it into her arms. “Take it. You’re going to need it.”

  He thrust it into her arms and she had no choice but to grab it or let it drop to the ground. “Thanks. I think?”

  He grunted, and stood, zipping up his pack. “We’d better get moving. That rain is coming in fast and you sure as hell aren’t dressed for the mountains. Poncho or no poncho.” His lip curled, and his eyes moved up and down her body.

  She looked down at her dusty white Keds and her filthy, shredded, once-cute capris. His examination had her feeling exposed, as if he could see every inch of her, even the pieces of her body hidden under her hoodie.

  A hot ball of resentment flared inside her chest and she tightened her grip on the slippery plastic poncho. “Look, I didn’t even know I was going to the mountains when I got up this morning, let alone that I would be stuck on the side of a road in a rainstorm.”

  He ignored her comment. Instead, he turned and walked away, crossing the road and heading up the trail, the back of his broad shoulders as he moved into the trees and out of sight saying everything, without saying a word.

  Gwynn gave one last desperate look down the deserted road, searching for the nonexistent station wagon and its nonexistent all-American family. And knew she was screwed.

  This man was her only option.

  Chapter Three

  Despite the empty water bottle in her hand, Gwynn’s mouth was bone dry. He was leaving her, the gleam of his white tee disappearing into the trees with every long, purposeful stride.

  This was it. She either went with this man or she—she had no idea what else she could do. There were no choices.

  “Wait for me! I’m coming!” She raced across the road, struggling to get into the over-large poncho and catch up with the stranger disappearing into the woods.

  It didn’t take long before she was at his heels. He glanced back at her and nodded. Gwynn nodded back, not that he saw her, he was already faced forward and focused on climbing the trail.