It was a deliberate tactic to keep himself away from her.
Tough and wild under the skin and a woman who never gave up, she drew him on a dangerous level. He could imagine walking inside the cabin, seducing her with kisses and caresses until she melted. He’d strip her with gentle care so she wouldn’t shy from his touch, before taking her with a hard physicality that’d teach her that pleasure could be a delicious storm.
Even as he built the lush erotic fantasy, he knew she was nowhere near ready for what he’d demand from her. Alexei had made an art form out of leashing his most primal instincts. It was a survival strategy. Control with Memory, however, would be an impossible ask; she was so ferocious in that small body that she incited the same aggression in him.
The man she accepted as her lover would be one lucky bastard.
Claws scraping the insides of his skin, he turned to stare out at the compound cloaked in night. Memory’s future lovers had nothing to do with him—the kiss the two of them had shared had been a thing of circumstance, would likely never be repeated. Alexei had to make sure it wasn’t repeated. He couldn’t get into bed with a woman who made him want to break all his rules, breach the walls he kept between himself and the world.
Brodie had made that mistake.
Brodie was now dead. So was Brodie’s sweet, innocent mate.
Torn to pieces by the one man who should’ve protected her at all costs.
His neck stiffened, his shoulders rigid.
“Alexei.”
He’d scented her before she reached him, but just barely. Their proximity, that kiss, it had left him brushed with her scent . . . and she wore his. The wolf inside him arched its back in unhidden pleasure—already it was beginning to fight the more rational human side of Alexei, unwilling to give her up.
“You have everything you need for tonight?” Gut tight, he passed her the datapad without taking his gaze from the rain-quiet compound.
“Yes. I feel tired.” Those last words were spoken almost in a tone of affront.
Despite his attempt to maintain his emotional distance, a smile threatened to tug at Alexei’s lips; she seemed to have forgotten that she’d been the prisoner of a psychopath only a day prior. His E was finding her stride and finding it quickly, with an unwavering resolve that the predator in him could do nothing but admire. All she needed was a little time, and she’d be a creature of strength and beauty courted by many.
Alexei had no right to use her current vulnerability against her. She might poke and snarl at him, but deep down, she trusted him—because he was the one who’d pulled her out of the cage. She’d had no chance to get to know other males, could make no real choice.
And why the hell was he gnawing on that when she wasn’t for him, could never be for him?
He had to get away from the sweet temptation of her, leash himself again.
“Rest tonight.” Even as he spoke, he wondered if she had enough blankets and if the heating was working efficiently; he’d check with the SnowDancer-DarkRiver supply team that provisioned the cabins. “You’re seeing Sascha again tomorrow?”
“Yes.” She came to stand beside him. “Will I see you?”
Alexei nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be by to have a security meeting.” The compound was part of his responsibilities during this secondment. “Indigo, the lieutenant who usually oversees things here, is looking after my den.” The senior lieutenant was a stunner by any measure, but he bet no neighboring asshole or roaming loner would dare challenge her to a dominance fight. What the fuck was it about him that incited idiots?
He was chewing on the sulky thought to distract himself from the sexy, fascinating woman beside him when she said, “Why won’t you look at me? Scared by a little kiss?”
Alexei’s spine stiffened, his eyes narrowing at the taunt and his wolf insulted to the core. Oh, his E was definitely finding her feet—and she had a mouth on her that delighted him. This woman had teeth. To a dominant changeling of Alexei’s inclinations, that made her deliciously tempting.
“Watch how you poke the wolf,” he growled, stepping off the porch before he could give in to the temptation to scoop her up and carry her off to his lair. “One day, you’ll go too far and the wolf will eat you.”
* * *
• • •
MEMORY watched from the doorway as Alexei strode across the compound toward the trees. She had to grip the edge of the doorjamb to stop herself from going after him and finishing their verbal battle. She knew it was foolish, that he was a wolf with strength that annihilated hers—and yet, she wanted to fight him.
She far preferred his growling to this quiet and intense distance. Even his threat to eat her had been oddly controlled. No snapping his teeth at her, no glint in the eye that said he was provoking her on purpose.
Setting her jaw, she glared at his retreating form. The damn wolf was hurting inside and rousing his temper was the only way she could think to help him. When he was snarling and grumbling at her, he forgot to be sad and angry and in such terrible pain. She wished she were like other empaths, could take painful emotions from others and soften the edges of their hurt, but she wasn’t. The only thing she could do to help Alexei was aggravate him.
Cupping her hands around her mouth, she yelled, “Chicken!”
Alexei turned on his heel near the tree line. He was too far to see clearly in the rainy dark, but she knew he was glowering at her with eyes of wild amber. As she watched, he lifted his arms and tore his T-shirt off over the top of his head. A minute later and he’d taken off his boots and jeans. She couldn’t see his body except as a silhouette in shadow, but she saw the flickers of light that erupted around him.
Her breath caught.
A large gray wolf stood where Alexei had glared at her. Heart in her throat, she stepped out, going to the far end of the porch in an effort to see him more clearly. The wolf seemed to shake to settle his pelt in place, then—with a final “you’re in trouble” stare—it was gone, a primal ghost in the darkness.
Wonder bloomed inside her at the idea of him running as a wolf . . . and other doors opened around her, curious empaths poking their heads out to search for the crazy woman who was yelling “chicken” at a very dangerous wolf. Suddenly vividly aware of her ill-fitting clothes and matted hair, her nerves jumping, Memory melted back into her doorway until they closed their doors again. But she didn’t go inside and shut her own door.
When all was quiet again, she made herself step out, even though she was afraid of the Arrows who watched over the compound. That fear angered her, but she knew it was a survival mechanism. It told her to be careful.
Reminding herself that her golden wolf would’ve never left her in this place unless it was safe, she clenched her stomach to quiet the queasiness, and walked quickly across the compound. Her movements had become less erratic hour by hour, but she did still have the odd jerked motion; when they came, she took a second, then carried on.
Once at her goal, she began to pick up the clothing Alexei had left in a tidy pile by the trees. He’d set his boots down sideways under the clothing, to stop the rain from getting inside. She knew people here must be used to finding piles of clothing discarded by changelings who’d shifted, but she collected everything anyway and returned with it to her cabin, holding his scent close. There was no need for his things to get wet when she could keep them dry inside.
Where the crabby wolf would have to come to retrieve them.
Her skin heated, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
Door shut behind her, she put his clothing neatly on one of the two chairs she had around her small kitchen table, his boots just underneath, then walked into the bedroom and began to prepare for bed. A kind stranger had left soft flannel pajamas for her, as well as a simple change of clothes for tomorrow morning—a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and a sweater. A set of underwear was also included, seale
d inside the store’s floral packaging.
She put on the bottom half of the pajamas, then snuck back into the kitchen and stole Alexei’s T-shirt. It swamped her and it felt like being cuddled by him, his scent in every weave and thread. She hugged it around herself. “He shouldn’t have left it behind if he didn’t want me using it,” she said to Jitterbug . . . and remembered too late that her pet was gone forever.
It hurt, just hurt.
Drawing in Alexei’s scent in a desperate defensive action, she decided to distract herself by ordering more clothes. It appeared she wasn’t going to be kicked out of this lovely green landscape; the least she could do was make sure she looked presentable.
After getting into bed with the datapad, she was a second away from ordering a sensible hard-wearing pair of pants when she said, “No.” She wasn’t a captive anymore. She didn’t have to wear anything but what she wanted.
A woman who taunted a dominant changeling wolf wasn’t exactly sensible anyway.
When a howl rose on the air currents, she shivered and stared out toward the silhouettes of the firs visible from her bedroom window. And she wondered if her golden wolf would find peace this night. “Don’t hurt, Alexei,” she whispered.
Chapter 23
“Promise, Lexie . . . you’ll put us . . . together. Promise.”
—Etta Harte Vasiliev’s final words
ALEXEI RAN UNDER the falling rain, the ghosts of his past running beside him. His big brother had never been anything but proud of Alexei’s rank in the pack, not the least annoyed that his baby brother was the more dominant wolf of them. But then, when it was just them, the dominance rules of the pack hadn’t applied.
At those times, Brodie was the big brother and Alexei the younger follower.
It had always been that way, the roles of childhood carrying on into adulthood, as was often the case between siblings. Ten-year-old Brodie was the one who’d climbed the tallest trees first, as younger, smaller Alexei jumped up and down below, urging his big brother on while asking him to be careful. Brodie had teased him for being a nag, but it had been gently done—because Brodie knew why Alexei worried.
When his big brother decided to try a homemade parachute, twelve-year-old Alexei had done all the research and made sure the stitches were strong, and that Brodie had a soft landing place. And when Brodie set his mind on getting a permanent tattoo at age sixteen, with ink that would last through the shift, it was Alexei who’d talked him out of the large grinning skull with one tooth.
Brodie had ended up agreeing to Alexei’s choice: a small family crest Alexei had designed in memory of their parents. Alexei, too, had gotten inked with the crest when he was eighteen. He was still too angry with Brodie to add a memory of his brother to the crest, but the two of them had been so proud of their original inkings.
“Thank the tattoo gods you were with me that day, little bro,” Brodie had said to him when they were older and having a couple of beers one lazy summer evening. “Fuck, but that skull was ugly. Etta would’ve probably taken one look at me and walked in the other direction.”
Brodie’s wolf had been a darker gray than Alexei’s, with a dot of white between his ears. His friends had begun calling him Skunk at some point in their teenage years, and the nickname had stuck with his peer group. Brodie had never minded, laughing and pretending to lift his tail as if to release a skunk’s trademark stink.
Alexei wanted to laugh at the visual, wanted to remember how much fun he’d had with his brother and, later, with his brother’s lovely, gentle mate. Etta had fit into their relationship as if she’d always been there, a slender reed of a woman who’d baked Alexei his favorite muffins and never made him feel an intruder in the couple’s lives when he visited.
If he stayed away too long, she’d call him up and order him to dinner with her and Brodie. The three of them had had such good times. He should remember those, focus on those. But without Memory’s spirit and warmth beside him, the wound felt too raw. Alexei didn’t know if it would ever heal.
Etta was dead. And Brodie had broken his promise.
Throwing back his head, he howled out his rage at the sky, howled out his anger. In the aftermath, his wolf stood on a promontory staring out at the sprawl of dark green below him, the empathic compound a small, rain-clouded glow in the far distance. In one of those cabins slept a woman who made him crazy.
She’d called him a chicken!
His wolf bared its teeth, wanting to run down and nip at her for her insolence until she apologized and petted him with words about his bravery and strength. God, the idea of it was a pounding compulsion in his gut.
Snarling, the wolf took a step back. The force of his need to go to her had managed to get through to even the wildest part of his nature, harshly reminding the wolf of what was at stake: his sanity . . . and Memory’s life.
Distance was critical.
Yet even as he turned away from the view and began to lope across the landscape again, he knew that keeping his distance would be a serious problem. He’d found her, and he would let no one hurt her. Until Memory could defend herself, Alexei would be her protector.
A howl sang across the mountains.
Halting, Alexei listened, then opened his mouth in a growl. He wasn’t the least surprised when a big, shaggy wolf with black tips to the gray of his fur loped out of the trees only minutes later despite the fact that Matthias was based out of the den near the Cascade Range.
The other lieutenant was the last packmate Alexei wanted to see; along with Judd, Matthias was one of his closest friends. Alexei had gotten blind drunk with the other lieutenant the day of Brodie’s and Etta’s funerals. Judd couldn’t drink without his Tk abilities going haywire, but he’d been there the entire time, and when Alexei wanted to fight someone, anyone, the former Arrow had put his body on the line.
Matthias and Judd had all but carried Alexei into bed and Matthias had slept in wolf form beside his bed the entire night. He knew far too much about the scars on Alexei’s heart.
Ignoring Alexei’s snarl, Matthias bumped the side of his body against Alexei’s. He was bigger than Alexei in both forms, but Alexei was more than capable of holding his own against the other man. He didn’t budge an inch at the bump. When he threatened to bite Matthias’s muzzle, the surprisingly agile wolf jumped back and dropped its jaw in a lupine laugh. Stubborn asshole wasn’t leaving.
Putting his head down, Alexei began to run. Matthias ran beside him. The rain faded a quarter of an hour into it, the clouds parting to reveal the silvery light of the moon. They were both panting under the moonlight when he finally brought them to a stop. Coincidentally—yeah, right—it was at another outlook that gave him a view over the empathic compound. Tiny cabins glowed with light below.
He shifted, then shoved a hand against Matthias’s side, the other man’s coat thick and healthy. “I told you to stay in your den.” Matthias had called him a few days earlier, mentioned he was thinking of swinging by the main den. Well aware of the reason for his friend’s sudden urge to visit, Alexei had growled at him to focus on his own den.
Judd and Hawke were already on his case; he didn’t need his closest childhood friend to come poke his big snout into Alexei’s current frame of mind. Now, said snout nudged at his ribs before Matthias folded himself down into a seated position on the outlook, his eyes on the compound below.
Sighing in defeat, Alexei leaned back against a nearby tree, and allowed the chill night air to cool down his body. He only groaned when Judd appeared out of the trees with a box of beer. “Seriously? How the fuck did you even find us?” The former Arrow was teleport-capable but couldn’t lock on to faces.
“I will take that secret to the grave.” He threw across two pairs of pants.
Alexei pulled on a pair because he knew Judd hadn’t quite got to the point where he could shoot the breeze with two naked changelings. Alexei’s wolf
didn’t understand the other man’s reluctance—skin was just another kind of fur to a changeling—but what the hell, it was a small enough favor for a friend. The quick task completed, he sat down with his back against the tree.
Judd took a seat beside him, the warm body of Matthias’s wolf pressing against Alexei’s other side. “Fuck you, assholes,” Alexei said, his chest tight.
Judd handed him a beer.
Shifting at the same time, Matthias pulled on the other pair of pants. When he was done, the six-foot-six male built like a tank took a beer, reclaimed his seat, and said, “It’s almost tomorrow.”
“Yeah.” The first anniversary over and done with . . . and it hadn’t been an awful day. His eyes returned to the glow of the compound. “Did you hear about my E?”
“Uh-huh.” Matthias stretched out his arms. “Eli went up with Hawke to check out that bunker. Said she attacked you.”
“Sienna mentioned that your E put her in mind of a small tornado,” Judd added, his voice cool—but that meant nothing, a leftover habit from his time in the squad. “All fury and untamed strength.”
“I like her already.” Matthias grinned. “You think she’d be into a large wolf who resembles a bear?”
“She’d kick your beary ass.” Alexei felt his lips tug up at the thought of Memory poking at him, ignoring his threats to bite her.
“From what I’ve heard, she’s tough,” Judd said quietly. “A lot of will in a small body.”
Matthias yawned. “I like little things.”
Well aware the big male was messing with him, Alexei narrowed his eyes. “Want me to tell Nell you’re on the prowl?”
“I can wring your scrawny neck without breaking a sweat,” Matthias muttered while Judd fought and failed to hide a grin.
“Try it and lose your fur,” Alexei said, conscious that slender and steel-willed Nell was Matthias’s weak spot.
The other man had been trying to court her for over a year, but she was having none of his rough charm. Possibly because she’d seen Matthias charm many a woman out of her panties. Between his mom and his dad, he had ancestry from the Far East, Spain, and Tanzania; it had left Alexei’s friend with smooth dark skin and one hell of a face. A lot of women took one look at that face and were ready to follow him into a bedroom. Matthias hadn’t ever been shy about accepting the offers, either.
Wolf Rain Page 16