by Renee Rose
My pussy said yes, but my mind said no.
Gah! My mind won, since they had said we’d do both. Wolves first, sex second. I brushed my hands over the front of my jeans. “Yes.”
Landry nodded. “Good. We’ll drive up to the ridge, then get out and hike for a while to see if we can spot any signs of wolves.”
We climbed into the cab of Wade’s truck. “It’s a Caitlyn sandwich.” Wade winked as he slid behind the wheel. His thigh pressed against mine on one side, Landry’s on the other.
My cheeks grew warm as my imagination took flight, picturing the other kinds of sandwiches we might make. An Eiffel Tower, maybe? When I was student teaching in Montana, I overheard a couple of very rude undergraduate boys saying they’d like to get me in an Eiffel Tower. I’d had to Google it to figure out what they’d meant. I hadn’t liked the idea with them, but with these two?
A low rumble sounded from Landry’s chest. “Whatever you’re thinking about, you’d better stop, or we’re going to cut this wolf-hunting expedition short and take you back to Wade’s bedroom.”
I choked on my breath. “How did you know what I was thinking?” I demanded.
Both men chuckled, but didn’t answer.
As we drove along the back road, I steered my mind away from sexy times and over to what Landry had said about wolves with trackers being killed. It was true, I had lost a couple of the wolves I’d been tracking last year, but I didn’t know why or how. Trackers could go dead. Animals could die of natural causes. There were areas of Wyoming where wolves were considered trophy game animals and could be hunted with a license, but the area Landry had mentioned wasn’t one of them.
It bothered me that any wolves had been killed. The fact that they had trackers was probably a coincidence, but I didn’t like it. Especially if their deaths were the result of ranchers who didn’t want to learn about the animals’ beauty and value to the American West.
Maybe that was why there were all the frequent calls about wolves to the various wildlife agencies. The ranchers were trying to entice the scientific community into proving there were too many by calling in every single sighting. Then again, Landry and Wade agreed that there were wolves in the area—even taking me now to go find some—so the sightings were probably real.
Tracking wolves wasn’t easy. It took a lot of patience, and the ability to put oneself in the predator’s shoes… er, paws. Plus, I had to learn to shoot a gun—just a tranq gun, of course—which was not a skill I’d ever thought I’d need back when I was getting that undergraduate biology degree. I had to admit, I was glad the guys were with me. The direction we were headed was nowhere near where they’d found me. I’d have spent my entire day searching in the wrong place.
And, if there were crazy people out shooting, my tranq gun wasn’t going to offer any protection. The rifle on the rack in the back window behind our heads was a better option. So were two big, brawny guys.
Wade pulled the truck off the side of the road. I looked around. There was no parking lot, not even a hint that someone had ever stopped here before. Thick pines blocked the view on both sides.
“We’re… here?” I asked.
Wade shut off the engine and opened his door. After he climbed out, he turned back and undid my seatbelt. Landry got out of the passenger side and held out his hand to me.
Wade pointed down the road. “There’s a stream there. We’ll follow it north, and there’s a big clearing about a quarter mile away. I expect we might find them up there.”
A quarter mile? Eagerness coursed through me and I went to the back of his pickup, but Landry beat me to my backpack. After he slung it over a shoulder, he took my hand again, and we followed Wade to the stream. We moved in single file after that. I kept my eyes on the ground in front of me since we were meandering along the water, not any real path.
After a few minutes, I was sweating, even shaded beneath the thick canopy. Just when I was about to ask them to stop to grab a drink from our water bottles, Wade put his hand out. Landry and I stilled beside him, and looked where he pointed.
I couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. The clearing he’d mentioned was in front of us, but we were tucked back in the trees still. There, sunning themselves, were two wolves. Thick gray fur, perked up ears. I tore my gaze away from them and took in the environment. A sunny day. Mid-eighties. We were at around seven thousand feet. The clearing was about two acres in size, surrounded by a forest of lodgepole and ponderosa pines. There was fresh water and access to food such as squirrels, voles, rabbits, and other smaller creatures. I estimated we were four miles from West Springs, but still on West land.
These animals were protected here, not only by laws, but by Wade and Landry. No one bothered them… except me.
Landry held my tranq gun and I reached for it, but he shook his head and aimed himself. He frowned as he fired. The feminist in me wanted to protest but then he quickly and efficiently aimed and tranqed one, then the other.
“All right, then,” I said as both wolves went limp.
Landry held up a hand, like this was his operation and he was in charge, which I supposed he was. After a moment of watching the wolves, he nodded. “Let’s go.”
I didn’t love the grim expression on his face, like it pained him to have shot the animals.
“It’s a fast-acting tranquilizer but it only lasts an hour or so,” I assured him. “They won’t even know what happened.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” he countered as he stalked forward on long legs. He didn’t seem happy about what he’d just done, or the fact that I was going to chip them, even though they’d been the one to guide me there.
I ran past him and dropped to my knees beside the two drugged wolves. I pulled out my phone to record the details.
“Male, grey wolf. Approximately eighty-five pounds.” I inspected him, gently moving his limbs to check for disease or wounds or identifying marks. “Subject appears healthy, no visible scars. White markings on the forehead and the right front paw.”
Wade dropped my pack by my side and I immediately got to work, pulling out the bag of tracking chips and reading the number off one of them into my phone recorder. I inserted the microchip, which was about the size of a grain of rice, into the end of a syringe, then injected it between the beautiful male’s shoulder blades. Then I drew a vial of blood for genetic testing.
I repeated the entire procedure with the second wolf, which was the biggest I’d ever tagged. “Male, grey wolf, approximately one hundred and five pounds.” Once the necessary business was complete, I stroked the second wolf’s fur. “Look at you,” I crooned. “Aren’t you gorgeous? I’ll bet you’re the alpha.”
“He is,” Landry said softly.
I twisted my neck to peer up at him. He stood a few feet off, a troubled look still on his face. “How do you know?”
Landry shrugged.
Wade answered. “We’ve seen him before.”
I simply stared. There was something terribly appealing about men who respected wolves as much as I did. I’d never met guys like this before—mountain men who seemed to coexist with nature rather than dominate it. Even if the whole punishment-pleasure thing hadn’t happened earlier, these two would have me swooning.
I stroked the first wolf. “You’re beautiful, too,” I told him. “Thank you for participating in my study. I’m just going to be tracking your whereabouts from now on, so I can learn more about your territorial habits.”
“Do you always thank them?” Wade asked.
“Yes.” I ducked my head. “You know they say people can still hear things on a subconscious level when they’re under anesthesia. Some people ask their doctors to give them hypnotic suggestions while they’re under. So I figure thanking them and explaining how they’re contributing to science can’t hurt.” I flushed because I knew it might sound a little looney. “I name them, too. Not for the study, but for me. White Paw, and Comet.” Yes, I liked those names for these two.
“That’s…
very sweet,” Wade observed. “Isn’t it, Landry?”
Landry’s jaw was clenched and his muscles were taut. Ever since he’d fired the tranq gun, he’d been upset. Angry. I just didn’t understand why.
7
LANDRY
“This is a big fucking problem,” I muttered, keeping my voice to a whisper. Wade could hear me loud and clear, but I had to ensure Caitlyn didn’t.
We’d finished with the two wolves, then moved on, taking Caitlyn to stand in a grove of trees near the cliffs which the she-wolves used as dens to birth their pups. Once again, we’d parked and walked in, but stayed far away so we didn’t disturb this group. I’d given Caitlyn binoculars which Wade kept stored in his glove box. She was sprawled over a boulder, her arms propped, and watching the animals.
“We’ve got to keep her from publishing,” he replied. “We just put trackers in two wolves. What the fuck is wrong with us?”
I glanced at him, then back at our mate, thinking of how she’d been sprawled over a different boulder earlier. My mouth watered, remembering her taste.
Fuck. This was a nightmare.
“I know. But my wolf is snarling at me to not only bite and claim her, but to make her happy. That’s why I did the two. Only two.”
I had no idea yet how we were going to keep her from doing the others, besides leading her through the woods everywhere but where the wolves were.
“Which means she publishes,” he finished.
I nodded. The sounds of the pups’ playful yips carried on the wind, even from a hundred yards away. She’d already tagged a few wolves before we’d met her and now two more. She was going to publish no matter what. It sounded as if she had a pushy boss and had to prove herself to disapproving parents. I thought of my own—all three valued my dreams and desires, didn’t push their own expectations onto Gib or myself. I had to wonder if this was why she was so driven.
Which meant she was going to publish her findings.
And that meant we had to keep her from doing it, just like Wade had said.
I turned away from Caitlyn, not able to look at her beauty as we spoke about how we had to fuck with her hard work.
“Can you believe we’re mated to a female whose sole goal is to spotlight wolves?” Wade asked.
I laughed, but it was far from funny. I took off my hat, ran my hand through my hair. “The pack’s going to lose their shit when they find out their acting alpha tranqed and tagged two of our own.”
When I’d made the rules with Caitlyn, I’d thought it would solve all our problems. Get her what she wanted from a few wolves, then somehow later figure out how to keep her from publishing her findings. But when I’d had to shoot, then subdue a wolf because of my fucking mate, I’d been pissed. It was in my nature to fight everything that I’d done. But it was also in my nature to satisfy my mate.
Even now, with her safely watching the wolf pups, I was at odds.
“I want to rip my hair out,” Wade admitted, clearly as unsettled as I.
My cell vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out, read the display.
Fuck. It was Gib.
I didn’t even know how I had cell service out here. I showed the screen to Wade, who gave a small growl in response.
“Hey, bro,” I answered softly, guilt creeping up the back of my neck. Gib had left me in charge of the pack and I’d already fucked up the job. Let a wolf biologist onto the land. Tranqed two wolves for her. Led her directly to pups.
“John Randolph said there’s a strange car parked at the Black Pass lookout.” Gib wasted no time with pleasantries.
Fuck. He meant Caitlyn’s car. How he recognized her car as ‘strange’ when there were hikers from all over accessing that trailhead, I had no idea. Randolph was one of the shifters who also worked for the forest service. It was his job to monitor the federal land surrounding the Two Marks territory. It was a great arrangement, except for right now.
Maybe he’d taken the trail and followed her scent when it veered off. In all other times, I’d call him diligent in his job. In this instance, it was downright nosy.
“I am well aware.” I tried to keep the defensiveness out of my tone.
“Well, who does it belong to?” he asked.
Dammit. I’d had no intention of telling Gib any of this saga until he got back and I had it well resolved. Now he was asking me about it point-blank, and I couldn’t even explain with Caitlyn nearby. Hell, I couldn’t explain without Gib losing his shit. I didn’t doubt he’d drive back from Montana right away and put an end to all of this.
That made my wolf snap and snarl, because no one fucked with my mate.
“I can’t talk now,” I said, even though I knew it would piss him off.
“What? Where the fuck are you?”
As if I was going to tell him we were observing a wolf biologist studying pups in the wild. Oh, and yeah, she was our mate.
Not happening.
“Dealing with it. I’ll call you back.” I ended the call without waiting for a response. Even after we got things all worked out and our marks on Caitlyn’s neck, Gib would probably punch me in the nose when he got back, but I could take it.
“Everything okay?”
I spun on my heel, not even realizing Caitlyn had approached. So much for wolf-fucking hearing. I’d been so in my head, so involved in what Gib was going to do, I hadn’t even noticed.
“That was my brother,” I explained. Sticking as close to the truth as possible was probably my best option. “One of our neighbors reported your car at the trailhead near our property, and wanted to make sure there weren’t any trespassers.”
Caitlyn’s brows dipped.
“But we already found you.” I attempted a grin and a wink, but she continued frowning. My wolf didn’t like that.
“And you’re dealing with me?” She made air quotes with her fingers around the word dealing.
Shit, how much had she overheard? I glanced at Wade, who shrugged.
“Well, I thought we had dealt with you,” I waggled my brows, “but I’d be happy to have a second go-round if you’re into it.”
She still didn’t relax.
“This is my brother’s land. Well, it’s mine, too, but since he’s older, he feels… in charge.”
That sounded fucking awful, but it was the truth.
“I just didn’t feel like explaining that we’d invited a wolf biologist onto the property. I told you how touchy we are about people messing with the wildlife.”
She bit her lip and looked up at us through her lashes.
“Is there… is there something you guys are hiding up here?” Caitlyn’s voice shook a little as she asked the question.
Fuck! I shot a glance past her at Wade. Should we tell her? Right now?
His eyes were wide and he gave a quick, alarmed shake of his head.
Double-fuck.
“No, sugar.” I hated lying to her. With all my heart. My wolf snarled at me for keeping the truth from her. The sooner she knew about us, the sooner we’d claim her. The sooner my wolf would bite and mark her. But she’d hate us for the truth. Not because we were shifters, but because she’d learn that we were going to shut down her work.
She started chewing on her thumbnail. “Are you guys… religious? Like a cult or something?”
I snorted, never even considering that as something she’d even imagine. “Definitely not a cult. Nope. We’re just a close-knit community. You might call us backwoods, but there’s nothing sinister here. I promise, sugar.”
Wade pulled her hand from her mouth and held it, sending me a worried glance over the top of her chestnut head. “Have you ever seen wolf pups like this before?” Wade was the master of distraction.
It seemed to work. “Only in captivity at a wolf sanctuary back in undergrad. Never in the wild.” Her face lit up with pleasure, as if she was remembering back.
I had to say, Caitlyn’s reverence for the wolves softened some of my misgivings about her research. Still, we had to figure ou
t a way to keep her from publishing her data if it showed a healthy wolf population, because while she was seemingly pro-wolves, her data could be used by others in harmful ways. Gib would rip my throat out. The pack would be pissed. I would do nothing to harm my fellow shifters—but at the expense of my mate?
Fuck, I was in big trouble here. Because while Gib and the pack would be upset, I had to assume Caitlyn would be devastated, and I couldn’t think of a way to avoid that. Yet. Hopefully we had enough time to come up with an idea before my brother returned and he handled it his way.
8
WADE
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered as Landry pulled my truck onto the dirt road leading back to my cabin. He’d gotten to the truck first and climbed behind the wheel, and I hadn’t argued. He outranked me in the pack. If he wanted to drive, I had no beef with that.
John Randolph’s Fish and Game vehicle was bouncing down the one-lane road toward us.
I knew Landry was feeling the weight of acting alpha like he’d never felt it before, and in this instance, it was heavily at odds with our need to claim our mate.
It seemed we couldn’t catch a break.
Landry drove off on the side of the road to make room for John to pass.
Of course, he didn’t. John pulled up alongside and rolled down his window, gaping at Caitlyn sitting between the two of us like a driver taking in a car accident on the side of the road.
Landry tipped his hat but didn’t roll down his window, indicating he had no wish to start a conversation, but John didn’t pull forward.
Of course he didn’t.
“Fuck,” Landry muttered and gave in, rolling down his window, too.
“That’s the guy who reported your car to my brother,” I murmured to Caitlyn, because this could get awkward, fast.
John leaned his arm on the car door and craned his neck out, making no secret of his perusal of our female.
A low growl started up in my throat, which wasn’t like me. I wasn’t alpha. I wasn’t anywhere near alpha of the pack. But it seemed I was willing to tussle with any male looking at my unmarked mate.
