by Mina Carter
Tempest didn’t cry, she never did, but the fact she let him hold her spoke volumes. Most of the time she was alpha through and through, but occasionally, things like this made him remember she wasn’t the cast iron bitch she pretended to be most of the time.
“I found them,” she whispered. “They were beautiful. So wild and free.”
His heart about stopped in his chest at the idea of her alone out there, surrounded by a strange pack. As strong as Tempest was as a wolf, they could easily have torn her to shreds.
“And?”
“I hid in the undergrowth so they didn’t see me.” Her voice was a thin thread of sound. “One, their alpha, stopped for a few seconds and I thought he had… but then they ran right on past me.”
He heard the longing in her voice, the need to belong. They’d all felt it at some point in their lives. Felt the wilderness and their other natures calling. Still, he breathed a sigh of relief they hadn’t seen Tempest.
“Poppet.” He made her look up at him, his expression stern. “Please don’t do that again. We don’t know enough about their politics to just run into a pack on its own territory. If you want that… we’ll look into contacting a local pack and starting to socialize with them.”
“This one here?” She lifted her head to look him in the eye. “The one I saw?”
The note of hope was well hidden but there. Aaron hid his smile—so that was the lay of the land, was it—and nodded.
“Sure, if that’s what you want. That’s what we’ll do.”
“Come on, kitten. Call me.”
Aaron looked at his cell for what seemed like the hundredth time that hour. After the incident with Tempest, he’d retreated to his hotel room to decompress and hopefully catch up with the woman rapidly becoming more important to him than breathing.
She hadn’t called.
She should have called by now. She’d said she would. But she hadn’t. Frustration clawed at him as his wolf grumbled in the back of his mind. Sighing, he dropped the cell on the couch and rose to grab his notepad and guitar. She was probably traveling or something. He could always get down some notes while he waited.
An hour later though, he snarled in anger, ready to sling both the pad and the guitar across the room. Normally when he sat down to write, the words and tunes flowed easily. Now, all he could think about was one small, curvy human female, his entire body focused on hearing her voice again. Nothing else.
“Problems?” a deep voice asked from the doorway. He looked up to see Karlan lounging in the doorframe, propped against one shoulder with his arms folded over his chest.
They weren’t identical twins, not in human form anyway. Karlan was as tall as he was, but leaner in build. The same long hair was lighter, and his blue eyes were more midnight than the topaz of Aaron’s own. Personality-wise, he was quieter. No less alpha than Aaron, but more inclined to let things slide until something mattered to him.
When it did, anyone who thought that quiet nature meant Karlan was a pushover soon found out he was as stubborn as either of his siblings. Possibly more so, almost as though he saved every ounce up for those rare occasions he exerted himself.
“No, of course not,” Aaron replied instantly and then sighed. “Maybe.”
Karlan pushed off and strode into the room. His movements contained an almost cat-like grace even though he was a wolf, and he dropped to sprawl on the couch next to Aaron.
“Come on, tell uncle Kar all about it.”
Aaron huffed, lips quirking. “Playing therapist now, little brother?” he teased, even though Karlan was only a few minutes younger.
Karlan rolled his eyes. “Screw that, you’re not distracting me. Out with it. Does it have something to do with that blind date you went on?”
“Wha—” Aaron blinked, looking at his brother in surprise. “How the fuck did you know about that?”
Karlan grinned. “Temp hacked your email while you were gone. We know all about it.”
“Fuck!” He glared at his brother, who was still grinning unrepentantly. “You know hacking someone’s private emails is against the law?”
Karlan’s grin just grew broader. “Well, you shouldn’t use Mom’s name as a password then, should you? That’s just asking for us to read your mail.”
Aaron swore at him, the curses descriptive enough to make a sailor blush. “I should—”
“Tell me all about your date. Who was the lucky lady? Nice, or rabid fan?”
The mere thought of Melody erased his irritation with his siblings as though it had never been, and he smiled. “Definitely not a rabid fan. She didn’t know who I was.”
His head jerked up at a weird rumble in the room, as he wondered where it was coming from. Perhaps the air con had broken down. It was only when he glanced at Karlan, to see his brother holding his sides with tears running down his cheeks, that Aaron realized he was laughing. Not the half-laugh he usually gave but a full-on belly laugh.
“Didn’t know who you were?” he snorted. “Yeah, right… pull the other one. There isn’t a woman on this planet doesn’t know who you are.”
Aaron just shrugged. “Well this one didn’t. And she wasn’t lying, I’d have smelt it on her.”
“Really?” His brother sat forward, curiosity written on his face. “So… how did it go? Really?”
For the first time in his life, Aaron dropped the mask he wore, even in front of his family. The mask of head of the family, of leader… no, alpha. He let it drop and showed Karlan the emotions that raged through him.
“It was…” he paused for a moment to marshal his thoughts. Mere words didn’t seem worthy of describing the feeling of having Melody in his arms. “Perfection. Utter perfection.”
Karlan nodded, his expression suddenly serious and gaze piercing as he looked at his twin.
“She’s your mate, isn’t she?” He dismissed Aaron’s shocked look with a wave of his hand. “Don’t try and deny it. It’s obvious from the look on your face she is, brother.”
“Well… yeah.” Aaron raked a hand through his hair. “Honestly, I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want a mate, I swear. If only one of us could have one, I wanted that for you.”
This time it was Karlan’s turn to look surprised. “What? Don’t tell me you believe those stupid stories? They’re old superstitions, Aaron, nothing more.”
He closed his eyes, a relief the strength of which he’d never felt before washing through him at his brother’s words. He’d felt so guilty that he’d found his mate and, potentially, blocked his brother from finding his own.
“Are you sure?” His voice was barely more than a whisper. Tortured.
“Aaron. Aaron, look at me.” The command was unmistakable, every note of Karlan’s voice backed with the power of an alpha. Almost despite himself, Aaron opened his eyes to find Karlan looking at him intently.
“This crap about twins? It’s all bullshit. I don’t believe that we only have one mate between us, I refuse to. And it doesn’t make any difference anyway.”
Sadness washed over his features, and a cold chill ran down Aaron’s spine. For years he’d suspected his brother held a secret close. He’d never pushed, never wanted to make his twin talk about anything that brought him pain, but a sense of foreboding told him he was about to find out.
“What makes you say that?”
“You knew she was your mate by scent, didn’t you? I wouldn’t know even if my mate was standing right in front of me.”
Karlan lifted his eyes to Aaron’s and the misery there took his breath away.
“Because I can’t smell a thing.”
Chapter 7
Melody still hadn’t called him by the next morning.
Aaron tried to ignore the twin feelings of worry and anger that rolled through his veins as he looked at his phone. There were no missed calls. But then, he knew that already. He’d slept with his phone right by the bed, just in case.
Turning over with a sigh, he covered his eyes with his forearm. He hadn
’t slept well, what with waiting for Melody’s call and the revelation his brother had landed on him last night.
Karlan had no sense of smell. Well, as a human he did, which was why Aaron had never suspected the truth… that his brother couldn’t smell a thing as a wolf. Their unusual, non-pack life had helped him conceal that fact for years, heaping yet more guilt onto Aaron’s shoulders. First Temp, now this… he was shit at this alpha thing.
Rolling out of bed, he stretched to ease the kinks out of his back and padded, barefoot, through to the bathroom. He snapped the shower on and took a piss as he waited for the water to hit the right speed and temperature before stepping under the spray.
Within seconds, his thoughts had returned to Melody. Why hadn’t she called? Instantly, his common sense reasserted itself. They’d had a busy night, so she’d probably been too tired, and add to that traveling. Yes, that was it, he reassured himself. She’d gone home and fallen asleep when she’d gotten through the door, sleeping like the dead. She’d call him as soon as she woke. She was his mate… how could she do anything else?
He let his mind wander into memory, recalling her scent and the feel of her small, curvy body pressed against his. Unbidden, his hand wrapped around his cock, hard as a tent pole, and stroked. The warm water cascaded around him, and his eyes closed as he slipped into the fantasy. That it was Melody’s tight pussy wrapped around his cock as he drove into her, her soft little cries in his ear as she tightened around him.
“Fuuucking HELL!” he roared, the orgasm coming out of nowhere to slam into him. His hips jerked, cock pulsing as he came, covering his hand and stomach. It was instantly washed away by the powerful jets of water hitting his body but he felt it, the climax draining him for a second as he slumped against the tiles.
Widening his eyes, he tried to clear the stars from behind them. Moon’s tits, he’d never come that way while pulling one off before. Never come that hard or powerfully unless he was balls deep in a woman.
No… he corrected himself. He’d never come that way before, except with one woman. His mate. His Melody.
The snarl slipped free of his throat, courtesy of his wolf, before he could stop it. As far as the beast within was concerned, they shouldn’t even be here. As soon as Tempest had been found, they should have been on the first flight back to Melody…
A frown creased his brow as he wrapped a towel around his waist and snagged another one before he left the bathroom. He actually didn’t know where Melody was. All he knew was that she worked on an archaeological dig someplace in England. Lakemont or something? She’d told him but he couldn’t remember at the moment. Racking his brain, he walked across the room, using the smaller towel to dry his hair.
Mel had liked his hair, he remembered, a small smile curved his lips until a hand landed on his arm.
“Hey sexy… fancy meeting you here.”
Adrenaline surged through his body and Aaron exploded into movement, turning and putting distance between himself and the intruder in the same movement. A sense of déjà vu assaulted him. What was it with people catching him when he was only wearing a damn towel?
“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded even as a sense of recognition washed over him.
The girl from his dressing room before. The one who had been hurt and got lost backstage.
“Lola?” he asked incredulously. “How the hell did you get in here?” And how had she found him? Again? They were hundreds of miles away from the last gig, and they never gave out which hotel they were staying in.
Regardless, it was her. Although instead of the ubiquitous skimpy t-shirt and jeans of the concert goer, she wore more makeup than clothing. Seeing his glance down her lingerie-clad body, she struck a provocative pose.
“Do you like it?” She motioned to the scanty scarlet underwear. “I bought it just for you. For us. The first night of our happily ever after.”
Fuck-ing-hell. He tried not to give any reaction, not even a widening of his eyes. Deep inside, his wolf went quiet and wary.
He’d only met her once before, but here she was talking about happily ever afters? Mentally unstable for sure, or wolf-struck. He wasn’t sure which was worse. At least he could try to reason with the first, the second? Not a chance.
The wolf-struck were single-minded, worse than zombies on a rampage for brains, and talking to them was about as effective. He’d never come across one himself—advances in medicine and the fact wolves had been out of the closet for at least half a century had ensured any humans that might be at risk were inoculated early—but he’d heard all the horror stories.
Wolves kidnapped and held prisoner, drugged with wolfsbane or worse… The wolf-struck had no limits when it came to keeping the object of their affections. And he had one of the nutters locked in here with him. Fuck was not the word.
“Hey, Lola,” he started, sidling toward the door. “I don’t know who let you in, but you need to get outta here.”
They said that was the best way to deal with the wolf-struck—cold, hard logic. Total rejection of their fantasy world from the get-go. Her eyes flared and he bit back a curse. Why the fuck hadn’t he checked the room before he went in the shower.
“Don’t talk like that, baby,” she wheedled. “We’re made for each other. You know it, and I know it.”
“Lola.” His voice was harsh. “I’ve only met you once before in my life. And that was a mistake.”
“Com’on, baby.” Her voice dropped to a croon as she mirrored his movements like a puppet, her limbs jerky and uncoordinated. The slight sheen in her eyes, a reflection where there shouldn’t be one, chilled him to the bone. “You’ve been speaking to me through your songs. I know you meant them for me.”
Holy crap, this one really was crazy.
“Fuck it,” he muttered, making a break for it and lunging for the door.
“BARRETT!”
He barely had time to yell before she was on him, wrapping her semi-naked body around his and crooning, loverlike, in his ear.
“Come on, baby. I know you want me.”
“Fucking well do not,” he hissed, trying to fight her off.
It would be so easy to slip his skin, to drop the barriers between him and his wolf. Using fur and claw he could scare the ever-loving shit out of her. At least long enough to allow him to escape
He couldn’t do that though. The Hounds might have the whole rock and roll image thing going on but that was all it was. An image. In reality, they were clean living and very aware of their reputation. Mostly.
Rock bands in the past might have gotten away with drug-fueled parties and throwing TVs through windows, but these days? The band’s lawyers and PR people would have a fit if he so much as poked a single strand of fur through his skin. Moon forbid if the woman suffered the tiniest scratch while she was here in his rooms. Even wolf-struck as she was.
The media wouldn’t give a shit about that—especially the fur-hate contingent. And lord knew there were enough of those.
Her hands were everywhere. Roving all over his body with an eagerness that made him feel sick. Trying to keep the towel safely wrapped around his waist became a full-time occupation as she rubbed her body against his and did her best to get him naked.
“Come on, baby,” she urged, pinning him up against the wall by the door. “Don’t you love me?”
Fuck’s sake, where was that damn bodyguard?
“Love you? Don’t be ridiculous. I hardly know you!”
One snarl, his inner demons urged. Just one snarl and he could scare her shitless. Leave her with nightmares for years. That wasn’t a scratch. Wasn’t physical harm. No lawyer on the planet could get him on that one.
One little snarl and she’d stop touching him. And if she had nightmares, so what? Who was to say that wasn’t to do with her condition? There was so little known about wolfstrike it was possible sufferers could have nightmares. Surely?
He opened his mouth, curled his lips back to bare his teeth…
No sound em
erged, the growl lodged in his throat.
He couldn’t do it. She was sick. She didn’t need him to add to her misery.
Taking advantage of his lack of resistance, she moved in to run her lips along the side of his neck. “You do know me, baby. You’ve been dreaming of me, remember?”
He swore mentally. “Dreaming of Lola” was one or their biggest hits. If she’d fixated on that song, it was a sure-fire recipe for wolf strike. All she’d have needed was contact with him. Like touching his wet skin after a shower…
Oh hell. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
“Come on then, Lola…” He wrapped his hands around her upper arms.
She moaned in pleasure at his touch, even though it was far from a caress. He didn’t have the patience for gentle, his movements bordering on rough. He really hoped she didn’t have a kink for being smacked about.
Behind him big men barged through the door, Barrett leading them. His eyes scanned the room, and in an instant he was by Aaron’s side.
“Come on, darlin’” he growled, his rough voice as deep as any wolf. With gentle but firm hands, he peeled the woman away from Aaron. “Let’s get you some clothes, shall we?”
“No!” Desperately she tried to cling to Aaron, her cries pitiful. “No! Baby, don’t let them take me. I need you. I love you!”
Her cries carried on as Barrett and his men got her out through the door, her semi-nakedness now covered by the big bodyguard’s jacket.
“Fuck’s sake!” Aaron wrinkled his nose in distaste as he sat down heavily on the bed. His hair hung in wet ribbons around his face until he reached up to scrape it back and flicked a glance at his phone. It was still silent when all he wanted was for Melody to ring, if only to hear her voice.
Two hours later, he’d had enough. Grabbing his phone, he flicked through his call log until he found the number for the agency. It rang twice before it was picked up.
“Bridlington Agency. How can I help you?”
“Hey there,” he answered, trying to place the voice. It wasn’t one he’d heard before. “Can you put me through to Lacey, please?”