Hungry Like a Wolf (Claws Clause Book 1)

by Jessica Lynch

  Cilla was an old friend of Maddox’s. If anyone would be willing to help him, it would be Cilla. At least, if she felt the same guilt over Maddox’s fate as Colt did, she would.

  Though he’d rather gnaw off his foot than admit it to Maddox, Colt long suspected that Cilla might have had something to do with the crash that destroyed his brother’s life. It was an open secret that she’d been in love with Maddox since they were teens. Back when Maddox first found Evangeline, Cilla first seemed upset before later being happy that her childhood friend had discovered his mate at last.

  Colt knew better.

  Twisting the key in the ignition viciously, he started the van. He had to get out of here before he made another mistake.

  Pulling out onto the street, he couldn’t stop himself from thinking back. It was all his fault. He’d never gotten along with Cilla and it pissed him off that she thought she could come and go as she pleased, visiting the Bumptown when everyone knew the witches owned Coventry. There wasn’t a single witch living in Colt’s Para community.

  He liked it that way.

  So when he saw Cilla strutting around like she owned the place? He couldn’t stop himself from throwing Maddox’s upcoming wedding in her face. In one afternoon, Maddox would be finally married and formally bonded. Cilla would never get a chance with him.

  The next night, Maddox’s truck ran through a guardrail. Mere hours after a quick courthouse wedding, Maddox and Evangeline were on their way to the cabin for their honeymoon.

  They never made it.

  Colt was the first one called to the scene to check on Maddox. Law enforcement didn’t want to go through the Alpha of the pack, so Terrence was out. Colt was there to watch as Evangeline was rushed away in an ambulance and Maddox was strapped down in case she didn’t survive.

  And he was there to pick up on the scent of baby powder that lingered on the mountaintop.

  Magic.

  The officials said it was an accident. A sudden rainstorm coupled with a pitted old guardrail and his brother’s tendency to speed. Even Colt believed it, second-guessing his nose.

  Maybe there was another reason why he caught a whiff of baby powder on the breeze.

  Colt spent three years trying to convince himself that his arrogant taunts toward Priscilla Winters had nothing to do with the crash that nearly killed Evangeline. Maddox was a shifter; he would’ve survived that and more. But Evangeline was human.

  It was supposed to have been an accident. Nowadays? Colt wasn’t so sure.

  Especially now that he was almost positive a witch had something to do with the state of his brother’s bond with his mate.

  Was it a certain witch? Until he tracked down Cilla, he wouldn’t know for sure. He didn’t even try asking Luciana for help in that regards. A coven was almost as close-knit as a pack. They never turned on their own.

  Hell.

  Colt yawned again, trying to shake off his exhaustion. He blinked once, twice, keeping his attention on the road ahead of him.

  When was the last time he slept? Between trying to keep up with orders, driving down to his father’s latest construction site to keep him from suspecting that something was up, and continuing his search for Cilla, he was more tired than he’d ever been before.

  Sarah Wolfe, most likely acting on her mate’s tip, had called and offered to bring fresh meat to Colt’s house. It killed him to have to turn her down. One sniff and Sarah would know that Maddox had been around. As much as he disagreed with his brother’s insistence that they keep his parents out of it for now, he gave his word. It was one thing to shower Maddox’s scent off of him before heading out to see his father. There was no way he had the time to clean his house of any sign that Maddox had been living there.

  Though, Colt snidely thought, maybe if he didn’t spend the only free time he had stalking some poor unsuspecting human, he’d be able to get a little housekeeping done.

  Human.

  Not a witch.

  Too bad another witch has already claimed you...

  That thought had him jamming his lead foot on the gas pedal, swerving around some little old lady in her sedan. She surprised him by flipping him the bird and he bared his teeth in the rearview mirror.

  Tires squealed, the scent of burning rubber against asphalt seeping in through the gap in his window, stinging his nose. The little old lady took off, igniting Colt’s predator’s need to chase.

  Just as he was about to slam his boot on the gas, speeding down the road after her, he felt a buzz against his hip. It was distracting enough that the sedan peeled away, disappearing down a side road while Colt slapped at his pocket.

  It was his phone.

  Pulling it out, he saw the number, cursed under his breath, then jerked on the wheel, parking the van in the first spot he saw. It was in front of a fire hydrant and he knew he couldn’t stay long. Better make this quick.

  He answered with a grunt. “Yeah?”

  “Colt? It’s me. We have a problem. How’s your hunt for a witch going?”

  Colt wanted to groan. He knew Maddox had a one-track mind but he hated being reminded that he couldn’t do the one fucking thing his brother asked of him. Admitting that he couldn’t get a single witch to hear him out had sucked. It was even worse when he filled Maddox in late last night, telling him about his meeting with the head witch.

  He even got Dodge to agree to tag some of his contacts. No dice. If it killed Colt, he was going to find out what the witches had against him.

  Just because he hated them all, didn’t mean they had to take it out on him.

  “I haven’t been able to find Cilla yet, but I’m still trying.” Or, he told himself, he would be once he got the hell out of Grayson.

  “Cilla? You mean Priscilla? I thought you gave up on looking for her when she wouldn’t answer. She’s probably too busy with her personal clients. Right now I just need any witch.”

  Colt was so tired that he slipped up. Shit. “None of the damn witches want anything to do with you or me. I figure she might be willing to help us. You know, shared history and all.”

  Shared history, that was a nice way to put it.

  Maddox’s growl reverberated through the speaker. “Last I knew, Cilla went lone witch.” Lone witch was the same as a lone wolf to a shifter: she gave up on her coven, striking it out on her own. “Who knows if she’s even still around? Forget about her—there’s gotta be someone local who can help. And Colt? We gotta be discreet. I’ve already had cops at the house and you’ll never fucking believe it: one of them is an old Cage guard.”

  After visiting Maddox for years, Colt knew all of the guards. “Which one?”

  “Wright.”

  Colt nearly crunched his phone. “I hate that Ant.”

  “Get in line, bro. Because Wright? He’s not just a cop. He’s Adam.”

  “You’ve got to be shitting me. The guy who tried to shack up Evangeline?”

  “One and the same,” snarled Maddox. “And that’s not even the worst of it.”

  “What do you mean? And make it quick, okay? I’m parked illegally. You probably don’t want me catching the attention of the police right about now.”

  Maddox didn’t, so he filled Colt in as fast as he could. Clear and straight to the point, he told Colt all about Evangeline’s spell. How, just when she was on the verge of finally—finally—remembering something, her nagging headache turned into something she couldn’t handle. Maddox’s mate collapsed, her vanilla scent mingling with baby powder. As if that wasn’t a big enough clue, when Maddox peeled Evangeline’s lid back, her green eyes were flooded with purple.

  Fucking witches.

  “So, yeah, you were right, and Alpha knows I hate telling you that, little brother. Somewhere, somehow, a witch did something to her head. It’s gotta be old, too. She told me she’s been getting those headaches since the crash. It’s got to have something to do with the broken bond, right?”

  Colt let out an angry exhale. “That makes sense to me.”


  “I’m going to tell her.”

  What? “I wouldn’t. I think it’s still too soon. She’s just starting to trust you — what if this fucks up everything you’ve done so far?”

  Before Colt talked Maddox into just running off with Evangeline—desperate times called for desperate measures—Maddox had come up with the idea of confronting Evangeline with the truth. If he laid out all of the physical proof he had, wouldn’t she have to believe him?

  Colt didn’t think so. He thought it would work out better if Evangeline recovered her memories on her own. Maddox reluctantly agreed.

  Seems like he was reconsidering that plan.

  “It’s a risk I have to take,” Maddox said firmly. Okay. Not reconsidering; Mad already had his mind set. “I can’t sit here and wait for her to remember. It’s hurting her and that’s killing me, Colt. And I know you don’t have a mate so I can’t expect you to understand. If I could take the pain from her, I’d do it. But I can’t. I can’t do anything. I don’t want to be helpless. I don’t want to be at the mercy of that prick coming back and taking her away from me. She’s my wife,” Maddox snapped. “It’s time she knew that.”

  Colt was silent for a moment. The jab about not having a mate—

  “Okay. Fine. Do what you have to. I’ll call you when I can get my claws on a witch. Enough diamonds and maybe one of them will be willing to help.”

  “Money’s no object, Colt. Get it done.”

  “Will do.”

  It took sixteen hours before Evangeline regained consciousness again. Whatever the witch did to her, it hit her harder than Colt’s sedatives.

  Maddox stood watch over her for every one of those hours. He dragged his chair so that he could sit at her bedside. He kept his elbows propped on his knees and his head hanging, his chin resting on his chest for the few ten minutes catnaps he permitted himself to have. His ears twitched anytime he heard a car approaching, panicked that it might be Wright returning with that damn warrant.

  How was he was supposed to make her remember when she spent all of her time unconscious? It was closing in on almost three days since he carried her away from Mugs. She’s spent more than half of it where he couldn’t reach her.

  It was better than her being in pain, but not by much. At least, while she slept, she was healing. Her ankle—helped along by some ice and whatever healing he could share through their fledgling bond—was looking much, much better.

  Maddox forced himself to eat if only because he would need his strength if Wright tried to take her from him. His only focus was on waiting for his mate to come back to him again.

  He lost track of time. The lights were still off, the shades pulled low. It could be late afternoon, early evening… he had no idea. Time stretched on as Evangeline lay there, eerily still.

  No twitching this time. No crying out. She slept like the dead.

  Her scent changed first. The lingering cloying aroma of sickly sweet baby powder dissipated first, her warm, rich vanilla scent overpowering it. She let out a soft sigh, then turned from her back to her side.

  Whether she meant to or not, she turned her body so that she was facing Maddox directly.

  Evangeline opened her eyes, blinking slowly. Her hand reached up to her head, running her fingers through the tangles in her long hair. Maddox didn’t sense any pain radiating off of her; seconds later, she sighed and dropped her hand.

  No headache.

  Good.

  Maddox cleared his throat, drawing her attention over to him. “Just putting it out there, that had nothing to do with me. I didn’t drug you.”

  Evangeline swallowed roughly. “I… I know. I, uh, I actually remember. We were talking and…” Her eyes darkened, a mixture of despair and anger flashing across her pale features. She lost all color while she slept, her lips thin and cracked, her eyes dull. “It’s the headaches. They used to be that bad, but they were getting better. Now they’re worse.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I’d say it’s not your fault, but stress does trigger them…” She shook her head. “I’m feeling better now. It’s just… can I have some water?”

  Maddox’s chest felt light, as if a huge fucking weight had been lifted. Barely three days ago, Evangeline swore she would never consume anything he gave her. Now? She was asking him for a drink. Probably because the magic left her mouth dry, and she had to be dehydrated after how long she was out. It didn’t matter.

  “Wait here.” There was a manila folder resting at his feet. Maddox scooped it up, tossing it on the chair after he stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  He ducked downstairs, grabbing her a glass of water, before rushing back into the room. It didn’t even look like she had moved an inch.

  “Here you go.”

  Evangeline took the glass, sipping it slowly. It took her a few minutes to drain the contents. By the time she was done, she was already looking a little better.

  She held the empty out to him. “Thanks.”

  “More? Or do you want me to get you something to eat? You’ve gotta be starving.”

  “Not right now. I’m still feeling a little queasy. Maybe later?”

  Maddox nodded. “You just let me know. Whatever you want, it’s yours.”

  As soon as the words escaped him, Maddox wanted to take them back. He gave his mate the perfect opening to demand to be let free again. Not that he would do it—he couldn’t, not when he was so damn close—but it would hurt him to have to refuse.

  But, to his surprise, Evangeline just nodded. “That’s fine. I’m usually not too hungry for a while after I get one of those awful headaches.”

  “You still get them often?”

  She looked down. Her hands were folded in her lap, but she noticed a thread pulling from her pale pink tee and absently pulled at it. Maddox needed to do something about getting Evangeline to change. The closets and drawers were full of her old clothes. When Colt came to take care of the place shortly after the accident, Maddox refused to let his brother throw any reminder of Evangeline away. Didn’t matter that she was supposed to be dead and Maddox was never getting out of the Cage. He liked the idea of their home being left just the way it was, like a shrine to their mating, no matter how brief it was.

  Now, Maddox was glad for his stubbornly sentimental streak. The clothes were more than three years old, but they were hers.

  He told her that, surprised again when she accepted what he said with a distracted nod. Knowing he was stalling, Maddox asked her if she wanted to use the shower, even offering to carry her to the bathroom so that she could keep off her ankle.

  Later.

  A nightgown to change into?

  Later.

  Some aspirin?

  Later.

  Eventually, Maddox ran out of excuses. He could tell that she was lost in her own thoughts. And while he would’ve given every last penny he had if she would only open up to him like she had been before the headache became too much, Maddox decided it was time.

  She wasn’t going to remember on her own. Being around him, feeling the slight tug of the bond trying to forge again, even returning to her own home… if none of that was going to make her memories come back, maybe this would.

  Maddox returned to his chair. He grabbed the manila envelope, removing the two pieces inside of it. Sitting down at her bedside again, he handed the bigger certificate to Evangeline.

  She took it.

  Her eyebrows rose. “What’s this?”

  “Look at it. I mean really look at it. Maybe this will finally prove to you that I’m not full of shit.”

  It was a marriage license.

  Her stomach dropped.

  In utter disbelief, she read it again.

  Certificate of Marriage.

  This certifies that Maddox Wolfe and Evangeline Lewis were united in marriage on this day…

  Her gaze lowered to the four handwritten scrawls along the bottom. She could just about make out Maddox’s signature, and the one below his that loo
ked like it read Colton Wolfe as the witness. The one next to Maddox’s, though? She knew that one.

  “That… that’s my signature.” Evangeline glared accusingly up at Maddox. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You forged this? Just when I thought— I thought I was…” She refused to tell the bastard that she was beginning to think about sticking around a little longer, trying to understand just what there was between them. Not now. Not after this. “There isn’t a single honest judge in the world who’d sign off on this so if you think, for one second, this is gonna trap me here with you—”

  “Look at the date,” he interrupted. He used his pointer finger to underline the date printed on the license.

  She did.

  “Three years ago… wait a second, I know that date. That’s the date of my accident.”

  “Our accident.” Maddox reminded her.

  “You weren’t there,” she argued, tearing her gaze away from his muscular chest. Her voice was shaky, her head spinning. It was getting harder and harder to separate her blanked memories from the dreams that constantly haunted her, especially when Maddox kept insisting he was in the car when she crashed.

  And that wasn’t the only thing he wouldn’t let go of, either.

  As if Maddox could sense her hesitation, he gentled his rough, raspy tone. “We’re bonded, Angie. Mated. But we’re also married.”

  Then, before she could argue, he handed her the other sheaf he held carefully in his hand. With shaky fingers, she gripped it, turning it over only to discover that it was a photograph.

  The world stopped.

  Just stopped.

  It was Maddox, but he seemed different. Softer somehow, his golden eyes reflecting life and love instead of cold determination. His tanned skin was healthy, his hair shorter than it was now. He was smiling.

  He wasn’t alone.

  A white dress. Evangeline was wearing a white dress.