by Celia Kyle
Only for her.
Without her, there was nothing.
Without her, he would have died.
“Wait,” she broke their kiss and feebly tried to push away from him. “You can’t—”
“I’m fine,” he murmured, pulling her head back down to taste the apple butter on her lips. She must have just had breakfast.
“But…” she mumbled against his mouth, even as her arms twined around his neck and pulled him closer. And that was the last word spoken for a blissful few minutes.
Trina adjusted her body, always keeping lots of space between her and his wound, but the rest of his body was fair game, it seemed. Her hands roamed the upper half while she cocked her leg across his lower half, driving him nearly into a frenzy. But despite her enthusiasm, Max sensed some kind of battle being waged inside her.
Hesitation.
Pain.
Confusion.
As soon as they broke apart, he would ask about what was upsetting her, but for the moment, they were both more than happy to get acquainted silently. His heated skin was cooled by a gust of fresh air, and then the last thing he ever expected happened.
“What the fuck!”
Max and Trina froze as they realized they were no longer alone in the room. Another male stood in the doorway with fury written all over his beet-red face. Max couldn’t contain a growl, and his grip on Trina grew even more possessive.
But in a heartbeat, he realized this was no rival. The man’s scent revealed he was a close relative of Trina’s. There was no need for jealousy, but he knew a threat when he saw one. Not that he could do much to protect himself at the moment.
The tall, lean man with hair just a little darker blond than Trina’s stomped across the room, stopping just short of them and planting his tightly clenched fists onto his hips.
“I spent the whole goddamn night in the woods tracking this motherfucker, only to find him in the arms of my goddamn sister?” the man spat, alternating glares between his sister and Max.
“Warren!” Trina gasped, struggling to push away from Max, more earnestly this time, but he wouldn’t allow it.
Shooting Trina’s brother a triumphant look, he tucked her against his body as tightly as he could, despite the pinch of pain in his side. It was nothing. A distraction. Only Trina mattered.
She glanced at Max and then settled stiffly in his arms, resigned to his protective instincts. “Warren don’t freak out. He was shot and barely made it through the night.”
Warren’s eyes narrowed to suspicious slits. “Bullshit! He looked pretty damn healthy as he groped your ass a second ago.”
And what a fine ass it was.
When Trina pulled away from Max again, he let her go. Family was the most important thing, and he wouldn’t keep her from them, no matter what. When she climbed off the gurney and faced her brother, Max got his first good view of her ass, and it looked just as amazing as it had felt.
Round.
Sexy.
Perfect.
His heart skipped several beats as he drank her in. She was simply gorgeous. Curves he would die for. Like Marilyn Monroe, only taller and even more stunning.
“Listen, big brother,” she said, her voice earnest and pleading. “He was on death’s door when I found him. I swear. Despite what you saw, he still needs treatment, and I’m going to be the one to heal him. I just need some time before the rest of the pack finds out. Okay?”
The rest of the pack. Meaning their alpha.
“Are you high?” Warren blurted, crossing his arms as he glowered at his sister. “How the hell am I supposed to keep quiet about him when the whole damn pack is on his trail?”
Despite her pin-up model looks, Trina leveled such an icy glare at Warren that it sent a shiver up Max’s spine. “I’ve kept enough of your secrets over the years, big brother. It’s about time you keep one of mine. You know I’d never do anything to put the pack in danger. I just need a few hours to make sure he’s medically stable and not going to die before Zeke and Val bombard him with questions. Is that so much to ask?”
He didn’t seem convinced, judging by the way his suspicious gaze ping-ponged between them.
“Warren, either you trust me, or you don’t.” Her voice was flat.
Warren eventually sighed in defeat. “Fine. I’ll keep my mouth shut. For now.”
Turning to Max, he scratched the back of his neck and sighed heavily again. “Name’s Warren Edgecomb,” his words were curt. “But I guess you probably figured that out already. Who are you?”
Max managed to drag his gaze away from his mate and gave her brother a hard look. The guy didn’t intimidate him. He had no hold over Max, and Max owed him nothing. But out of respect for his mate, he gave the most truthful answer he could.
“I’m hers.”
Chapter Five
Morning dew still sparkled like tiny diamonds on the grass as Trina finally crept out of her cabin-slash-clinic, even though a few hours had passed since Warren had caught her making out with her newest patient. She smiled as she brushed her fingertips across her bruised lips. She hadn’t even thought to ask his name until after Warren had left. Maxwell Kincaid. Just thinking his name made her body flush with happiness.
Honestly, she was still in shock over the previous twelve hours. It didn’t seem possible her life could change so quickly and in such a dramatic way. More than once throughout the night, she’d gone so far as to pinch herself—really, really hard—just to make sure she wasn’t deep in the most vivid and wonderful dream.
Not a dream. If her pinches hadn’t convinced her of that, the man’s hard need pressed against the inside of her thigh would have done it. He was real. And he was really injured.
But, as was often the case with wolves, he was healing quickly. His vitals were good and he was very stable—at least medically. Mentally…
Trina had to wonder if his overprotectiveness of her had more to do with his lone wolf status than the connection between them. Without the structure, hierarchy, community, discipline, and sense of accountability that an organized pack could offer, a lone wolf generally had a hard time maintaining their sanity. And from what Trina could recall, the longer a lone wolf spent in isolation, without a community to rally around him, the farther down the rabbit hole of ferality and risk-seeking behavior that wolf would fall. A wolf was never as strong alone as it would be with a mate and a pack. She wondered grimly how long Max had been on his own.
He hadn’t spoken much, but his earlier friskiness was a clear indicator he almost certainly wouldn’t die in his sleep while she snuck out to have a much-needed chat with her alpha. It was the first chance she’d had because every time she’d mentioned it, he growled softly. “Your place is beside me and vice versa. He can wait.”
Once he’d finally conked out for good, Trina had slipped out of his arms and headed straight for the pack house. When Warren had stopped by a second time to drop off some clothes for the strange patient, he’d told her Zeke would be working from his home office that day, which saved her a drive all the way into Tremble. She wouldn’t have been comfortable leaving Max alone for that long, despite his progress. Besides, her wolf would have howled its head off at their separation. Even the short distance between her cabin and the pack house was almost more than the beast could handle.
Her skin itched and her heart raced from nerves at what she was about to propose. Asking Zeke to allow her to not only continue treating and caring for the lone wolf who’d been plaguing him for weeks, but to also accept the wolf into the pack as one of their own? Yeah, that would be a tough sell.
Packs were typically very territorial and community-based, mainly populated with generations of the same family lines in one particular area for decades, even centuries. The Soren clan was especially insular. New members were not easily accepted. Even when Zeke had brought Valerie into the fold as his mate, there’d been a little pushback, especially from some of the elder members who were set in their ways.
; Pausing outside Zeke’s open office door, she took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. “Knock knock,” she poked her head inside.
Even though they’d grown up together, Trina had always been a little intimidated by Zeke, especially once he’d become the alpha. But she learned a universal truth as soon as her gaze found him sitting behind his desk. It was pretty much impossible to be afraid of anyone when a tiny, orange furball lay draped across their shoulders.
Fang raised her fluffy head and gave Trina a soft “boof” in greeting. Zeke glanced up and then did a double take.
“Hey, Trina. What’s up?”
“Got a minute?”
“Sure, have a seat,” he plucked Fang from his shoulder and set her on the desk between them. She pranced over to Trina immediately for all the scratches a princess like her was due. Only once that special spot behind her left ear got scratched did she finally crawl into Zeke’s lap, her tongue lolling and bouncing around like she was the happiest dog in the world.
Zeke leaned back, absentmindedly burying his fingers into Fang’s fur and watching Trina carefully as she settled into the chair opposite him, which only ratcheted up her anxiety.
“So, um…” she started, unsure of how to continue. “I, uh… What if…”
This was so much harder than she thought it would be. She looked up from her fidgeting fingers to find her alpha smiling at her.
“Take your time,” he said.
Clearing her throat, she took a nice, deep breath and dove right in. “So, let’s say—hypothetically, of course…”
“Of course,” he replied, a curious glint in his eyes.
“Hypothetically, what if a girl comes across a lone wolf out in the woods, and what if he’s pretty badly injured, and the reason he’s injured is because some asshole humans decided it would be fun to hunt a wolf, and also what if…” she trailed off, squeezing her eyes shut and bracing herself for the coup de grâce, “what if that injured lone wolf is also her mate?”
She peeked one eye open and then the other, grimacing in anticipation as she tried to read the expression on her alpha’s face. He looked quite serious, his brow furrowed and his eyes carrying a gravitas that made Trina’s stomach twist and clench. Her heart pounded so fast and loud in her chest that the entire pack house must have heard it.
Fingers rhythmically scratching deep in Fang’s fur, Zeke nodded. “I see. Well, hypothetically I would find it hard to believe humans were purposely hunting wolves anywhere near pack lands, much less Wolf Woods. It seems more likely that a certain hypothetical lone wolf had been hunting them and ended up on the wrong side of the deal.”
Trina’s heart sank and her skin turned clammy. The idea of finding her mate only to have him expelled from Soren lands brought tears to her eyes because she’d be damned if she’d let him leave without her. She’d miss her pack something fierce, but if that was Zeke’s ruling, they’d figure it out. Somehow. Somewhere.
“But here’s the thing,” he continued, leaning forward far enough that Fang squeaked an objection to being squished. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders and I know you’d never do anything to jeopardize the pack. Plus, I hear you were the first to know Val has my pup growing inside her. So, I’m going to trust you… for now.”
Trina gasped in surprise and relief. “Oh, thank you so much, Zeke!”
“Hold on,” he said, raising a hand to settle her down a bit. “How injured is this wolf? Hypothetically.”
Her smile slipped away. “Pretty badly, but he’ll survive.”
“Good. So, here’s the deal. You can have twenty-four hours. Then I expect you to present him to me for interrogation. Twenty-four hours, Trina. Not a minute more. And if he won’t come, he’d better get the hell off Soren pack lands or he will feel my wrath. Got it?”
She nodded quickly and emphatically. “Got it. One day. Sounds totally reasonable, Zeke. Thank you so much for… everything. And congratulations.”
Her mind spun in a thousand directions as she stood up to leave. Max would be waking up soon, and she wanted to be there when he did. Now that they’d found each other, she couldn’t bear to waste a single second away from him.
As she turned to leave, Levi barreled into the office, eyes wild, out of breath, and smelling like the deep woods. Fang, who was no fan of Levi’s, lifted her head and growled at him. If Levi’s expression hadn’t been so grave, Trina might have laughed at the sight of a tiny dog intimidating a fully grown male.
“Hush, Fang,” Zeke said as he took in his former enforcer’s disheveled appearance. “What the hell happened to you?”
Levi didn’t bother to catch his breath before speaking. “I was… gasp… out on… gasp… poop patrol… gasp… deep in the woods.”
“Jesus, Levi, catch your breath,” Zeke snarled.
The man did as he was told and then continued. “I ran across some human hunters way out there.”
Zeke and Trina exchanged worried glances.
“I was in my human form, scooping wolf scat, just like you ordered, so they didn’t think twice about asking if I’d seen any signs of wolves prowling the area. I didn’t like the look or smell of them, so I played along, hoping to extract some intel. We chatted for a few minutes and I asked some questions of my own.”
Invisible clouds of fear filled the air. Levi gave Zeke a terrified look.
“Zeke, McNish hired them to exterminate any and all wolves found in and around Wolf Woods. And that’s not even the worst part.”
“What’s the worst part?” Trina asked quietly.
Levi blinked at her, seeming to notice her for the first time. “These guys, these hunters? They said they already killed one wolf and they suspect there may be more.”
Trina caught Zeke’s worried gaze. Part of her felt vindicated that her story—or rather, Max’s—had been confirmed. That instantly gave him more credibility in the alpha’s eyes. The rest of her was frightened—for herself, for her new mate, and for her pack.
Zeke stood slowly, setting Fang on the desk so he could allow his hands to curl into tight, powerful fists that he pressed into the top of the desk. His lips quivered and his nostrils flared with rage.
“Where?” he asked so quietly she barely heard him. “What part of Wolf Woods did you find them in, Levi?”
Levi hesitated, his eyes darting to Trina. Something in them alarmed her to the point of panic.
“I didn’t. They weren’t in Wolf Woods, Zeke.”
Zeke huffed his impatience. “Then where did you find them, Levi? Spit it out!”
“Pack lands,” he almost shouted. “I found them on pack lands.”
Chapter Six
Max paced up and down the clinic that was feeling smaller with every passing minute. For the third time, he unfolded the crumpled note Trina had left and reread it. For the third time, all it said was that she would be back soon. And for the third time, Max wadded it back up in his fist and considered hurling it into the garbage before stuffing it into the pocket of the hospital gown he’d found on a shelf.
Dammit! He’d told her specifically to wait for him before going to talk to the pack alpha. The note didn’t specifically say she was going to do that, but Max wasn’t stupid.
Every other turn he took brought a fresh twinge of pain in his side, but he ignored it and continued pacing. He wouldn’t allow a mere gunshot wound to slow him down, not when McNish and his hunters were gunning for him and every wolf in the local pack—literally. Max didn’t have time to get caught up in pack politics. He had a job to do, and that job was to take out McNish, one way or another.
Just thinking about Dick McNish and all the shit he’d pulled over the years drew snarls from his wolf. His arms grew furry for a moment, and part of Max wanted to set the murderous beast loose. It wouldn’t be too hard to pick up on the hunters’ ripe body odor, which would lead him back to McNish. He only needed a few seconds and one exposed throat to sink his fangs into.
His wolf didn’t just want vengeance. He w
anted justice for everything McNish had done to him and his, as well as for everything the bastard was planning to do. Painful memories stabbed his brain like ice picks but were quickly replaced by the even more distressing thought of Trina stumbling into the slimeball’s crosshairs.
That was why he’d insisted she wait for him to leave the cabin. He wanted her by his side at all times, so he could protect her if worse came to worst. Sure, the pack alpha was charged with protecting every member of his pack, but not the way a mate would. Max had long since learned that if he wanted something done right, he had to do it himself. It was the unspoken motto of lone wolves, and it hadn’t taken him long to embrace it.
The sound of approaching footsteps snapped Max out of his slightly feral thoughts, and his attention focused on Trina’s sweet scent that reminded him of a piña colada. She was okay. And she’d come back to him.
As the door swung open and a startled Trina stood motionless in the doorway, Max stomped over to her and she drew back in alarm. Max barreled toward her as if she were his prey, and that was exactly what was on his mind.
“Max—” was all she had time to say before he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close to him, kicking the door shut behind her and pinning her against it.
His cock had never been so hard in his life, and it pulsed against her body like a beating heart. She gasped when he took her face in his hands and started kissing every square inch he could. Then she clutched the front of the thin cotton gown. Before she could chide him for getting out of bed, his lips closed on hers and she practically melted in his arms.
Triumph and lust flooded his veins. Even the ever-so-professional healer couldn’t resist him once he had his mouth on her. Her lips were satiny soft under him as his tongue invaded her, and he couldn’t stop his hands from exploring every inch of her body that her clothing would allow.
