Yours, Mine and Howls: Werewolves in Love, Book 2

by Kinsey W. Holley

  “That’s some damned good hearing you’ve got, Ally.”

  She didn’t open her eyes. “Yeah. It’s not that fun, actually. I hear a lot of stuff I’d rather not.”

  “Like maybe two wolves discussing your tits and ass?”

  Her eyes flew open. She tried to keep her expression as neutral as his. He wanted her to say something, so she said nothing.

  “Good night vision you’ve got too.”

  “Really?”

  “Obviously.” He flashed a beautiful, predatory smile, teeth bright white in his dark black beard. “Humans can’t maneuver in the woods at night, not without some kind of light. Yet you followed Dylan’s howls straight to Aaron. You got there almost as fast as I did. And you could tell from looking at Aaron, in the dark, that he wasn’t dead.”

  She stood up and hugged her arms across her body, jiggling a leg nervously. “Look. You’re stressed out. I feel like I’ve been awake for three days. We barely know each other and we’ve already had a screaming fight. I wanted to tell you because I thought it might be important, and I did, so I’m going to bed now. Good night.”

  She turned, walked to the door, and bumped into his forearm. He stood right behind her, one hand on the French doors to prevent her opening them.

  “I can move faster than you. That’s a relief.”

  Her face, scant millimeters from his arm, flushed hot. She couldn’t tell if the heat came from her or him. She wanted to taste the warm skin of his smooth, muscled arm.

  She didn’t often yearn to press her tongue to unfamiliar flesh.

  That heady scent of coffee, tobacco and Cade set her pulse racing and her skin tingling. His breath stirred her hair.

  She had an absurd, and absurdly powerful, urge to relax and lean back against his chest. She’d thought he was looming over her earlier, in the yard outside, but that wasn’t looming. This was looming. He made her feel small and weak, which she hadn’t felt in thirteen years. He made her feel safe and warm, which she hadn’t felt in twenty-three years.

  “Ally.” Even though they weren’t touching, she could feel the vibration of his voice in his chest. It soothed her.

  “Ally. Turn around.” His voice was softer now, like earlier on the swing.

  This was a power play. She wouldn’t submit, even though she’d love it if he touched her again.

  Which he did, kneading the back of her neck with strong, skillful fingers. She couldn’t suppress a contented purr. His touch induced contradictory sensations. It was soporific—she wanted to curl up against him and go to sleep. It was electrifying—she wanted to curl up against him and…not go to sleep.

  “What are you doing?” she asked irritably.

  She could sense his smile. “I’m massaging your neck.”

  “That’s wildly inappropriate, don’t you think? We hardly know each other. Do my shoulders too, they’re killing me.”

  He chuckled and obliged, working deeply into tense muscles.

  “Do you typically give massages to women you barely know?”

  “No. Do you typically let strange wolves rub your shoulders?”

  She smiled. “No. It’s been an odd night. I’m not really the touchy-feely type.”

  “Me neither.”

  “You hugged and kissed Shawn.” That sounded weird. “I mean, I thought it was sweet.”

  “Shawn is like my little brother. I take special care of him.”

  One hand moved to the base of her skull, where he began to massage her scalp gently. She loved it when someone played with her hair. In Cade MacDougall’s hands, it became an erogenous zone.

  She really should stop this. She really didn’t want to.

  When she turned around to face him, her nose hit him right at the sternum. Intoxicated by the scent of him, she stared at the strip of tan flesh framed by his unbuttoned polo. The outrageous desire to lick him returned.

  She pressed her back against the door to look up at him. She couldn’t raise her gaze much past his mouth and those full, sensuous lips in the beard that looked soft to the touch. He rested his hands lightly on her upper arms.

  “Thank you,” she murmured. “That was wonderful. I think I should leave now. Will you kick me out tomorrow?”

  “No. I’m not going to kick you out ’til I’ve figured you out.”

  “I wasn’t lying about what I heard at the restaurant.”

  “I believe you. I don’t know why, but I do.” He released her arms—reluctantly, it seemed, but maybe that was just what she wanted to believe—and she groped behind her for the doorknob. She tried not to stumble as she walked out backwards, Cade following, still looming.

  As they walked out into the foyer, he said, “Tomorrow I’ll show y’all around a bit and you can see the swimming pool.”

  “That would be great. Thank you.”

  “Good night, Ally.”

  “Good night, Cade.”

  She walked up the stairs without looking back. She could feel his eyes on her all the way to her room.

  Chapter Nine

  He slept like hell, woke up surly and called the hospital. Aaron’s condition remained unchanged.

  The suicide attempt had blindsided him. His near-telepathic ability to read other people worsened the guilt. He hadn’t been looking after his pack as he should. He’d let personal matters—nanny drama, the other Alphas, Dylan’s discovery—absorb too much of his attention. Unfortunately, those were all important issues. He couldn’t ignore any of them, and certainly not the Alphas.

  The phone call to Rufus Stapkis had been even worse than expected. Stapkis accused Cade outright of trying to kill Aaron. Stapkis and Cade had never even met. The meeting planned for tomorrow was supposed to facilitate some kind of détente. No chance of that now.

  Stapkis would want to visit Aaron at the hospital. Protocol demanded he pay a visit to Cade first. But Stapkis didn’t recognize Rocky Mountain, and Cade couldn’t allow Stapkis to enter his territory without permission.

  He might end up fighting the old wolf after all.

  Michael had called Chicago and St. Louis to cancel the meeting. They’d indicated they still wanted to meet with Cade, so he would go to Denver tomorrow as planned. He’d worry about Stapkis after that.

  Today, he would spend time with his guests. And tonight, with his wolves.

  He went in search of Ally first. He told himself he did it because she’d know where the others were, and not because he wanted to see her the most.

  Ally and Becca were getting along famously in Becca’s room, Ally clapping and cheering while Becca danced to The Wiggles on TV. Baby Girl begged to go with them. It reminded him that his daughter didn’t spend enough time with other children or with him. More guilt.

  He filled Ally in on Aaron as they walked downstairs.

  “I think Seth and Dec drove into town after lunch. They wanted to look around.”

  “I guess it’s just you, me and Dylan,” he replied. The prospect of spending time with her, without the other wolves, pleased him—which annoyed him. He’d honor his deal with the Houston Alpha, but he didn’t want Ally staying any longer than necessary. He needed one less complication in his life.

  Dylan was perched on the pasture fence chatting with the hands and observing the Nordic ponies. At Cade’s gesture, he jumped down and joined them as they walked to the stables.

  “Have you ever been to Iceland?” Dylan asked him.

  “I’ve always wanted to, but I just haven’t gotten around to it. Your grandmother never wanted to take us there. She lost her parents when she was young and said it made her sad to think of going back. But she was happy when my dad decided to raise Icelandics and Nordics. She rode them when she was young.”

  “Where in Scotland did your parents die?”

  “Dylan!” Ally gasped.

  Cade put a hand up. “No, it’s okay.”

  They had stopped just outside A-Barn. He cleared his throat and closed his eyes for a moment, startled at how the question had kicked
him in the gut. Dylan look frightened.

  “I’m sorry, Cade, I shouldn’t…”

  “No, it’s okay,” he repeated. “Someday soon we’ll sit down, just the two of us, and I’ll tell you everything about our family. Anyway—” he cleared his throat and tried to smile at the pup “—they died on Scarista Beach, in the Outer Hebrides.”

  “You went there, didn’t you?” Ally asked Dylan.

  “Yeah!” the pup replied excitedly. “On the Isle of Harris. It was a really cool beach. I wanna go back.”

  Ally caught Cade’s eye and mouthed, “I’m sorry.” He shook his head and grinned in spite of the pain. Eighteen was a heedless, invulnerable age. You didn’t think about dying at eighteen, and other peoples’ deaths didn’t seem completely real.

  Allison Kendall had thought about dying at eighteen, though, hadn’t she? Did Dylan ever think about that? Did he ever stop to think that at his age, Ally had risked her life to save him?

  She jolted him from his musings when they entered A-Barn.

  “This is gorgeous! How many stalls do you have?”

  “Forty. Twenty in A and twenty in B-Barn. We normally don’t have more than twenty horses at a time, though. Nordics and Icelandics here in A, and a few Irish Hunters in B-Barn.”

  “Those are your only breeds?”

  “For now, yeah. I keep thinking about Cobs, though. I was in Ireland last year and almost bought some stock.”

  Her eyes lit up like sparklers as they walked down the runs between the stalls. He expected her to start jumping up and down, Becca-like, in her excitement. Christ, those dimples were going to kill him. Why did a brazen, lying little stealth-alpha female have to be so goddamned cute?

  “You’ve never seen Icelandic horses?” Observing her glee made it hard to stay in a bad mood.

  “No. They’re beautiful! Who’s the mare about to drop?”

  “That’s Snowmane. We’re on standby. She’ll drop in the next day or two.”

  Ally cocked her head to the side. “Snowmane. That’s a horse in Tolkien, right?”

  “Very good. Yes. Tolkien used a lot of Icelandic and Old Norse names. My mother liked naming horses from his books.”

  “Do you ride the Icelandics?” asked Dylan, eyeing the little animals doubtfully.

  Cade laughed. “No. I feel silly as hell on a horse that short. Some wolves don’t care, though. A lot of them like the ponies for their kids. I ride a Hunter. His name is Sleipnir.”

  Ally said, “That’s not Tolkien, is it?”

  “No. Sleipnir was Odin’s eight-legged horse.”

  “You’re into Norse mythology?”

  “My mother was an acolyte of Eir, an Old One. The Norse thought she was a goddess. They made her one of the valkyrie.”

  “Really,” she said quietly.

  She had a strange look on her face—shock, maybe, or fear? A lot of people didn’t even like to admit the existence of the Old Ones. Some, like Apocalyptics, found human contact with them abhorrent.

  Cade crossed his arms and regarded her steadily. “Does observance of the Old Ones disturb you? I don’t pay much attention to it, but I should tell you that Sindri is devoted to Eir.”

  She shook herself and smiled apologetically. “No, no, that’s not it at all. I’ve got Apocalyptic relatives and they offend me. No, I just… I used to know an old lady in service to Eir. I was just surprised. I didn’t think she had many acolytes in the U.S.”

  “You’re right. She’s not widely known outside Scandinavia. Sindri’s from Iceland, like my mom—he came to the States with her when she married my dad.”

  She gave a little laugh and shook her head again. “Well, anyway. I’ve read Tolkien two or three times. I always thought if I ever had a horse of my own, I’d name him Shadowfax.”

  She turned to stare at Snowmane again, looking downright dreamy.

  Dylan grinned. “Horses make her happy.”

  “I can tell.” He returned his nephew’s smile, oddly relieved. “When I get back from Denver, we’ll go for a ride. We don’t have time today. I’m taking the Wrangler to show you around the property.”

  “Oh, that’s right—you were supposed to meet with Aaron’s father tomorrow, weren’t you?”

  “How’d you know that?”

  She looked embarrassed. “I’m sorry. It’s just… Shawn and I were talking about Aaron last night, and the pack, and he mentioned it.”

  “Shawn talks too much.”

  Ally tilted her head back. For a second, once again, he thought she was going to look him in the eye. “Cade, if I’ve annoyed you again, I’m sorry. I promise I’m not doing it on purpose. I’ll head back to the house and you can show Dylan around without me.”

  “Wait a minute—”

  “Hush, Dylan.” She backhanded the teen lightly across the shoulder and then looked up at Cade again, still a little red-faced. “I mean it. I just talked to Shawn a little bit before you got back from the hospital. I don’t want my mouth getting him in trouble.”

  Cade didn’t want her mouth getting him in trouble, so he quit staring at it. “I’m in a crappy mood,” he muttered. “It’s making me snap more than usual.”

  And that was all he’d give her. He wasn’t in the habit of apologizing to cheeky females, not even ones with bottomless dimples and smooth lips and perfect tits.

  Dylan had watched the whole exchange in mortified silence. His nephew cleared his throat diffidently. “Look, I was gonna go for a run anyway. Y’all can go without me, I don’t—”

  “You can go for a run later, son.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Ally’s eyes widened at that. She looked like she was struggling to keep a straight face. Those fucking dimples were showing, though.

  Soon they were out on the property, bouncing up and down the hills and cutting through acres of uncleared brush and trees. He’d taken the doors and top off the Wrangler.

  He didn’t attempt to cover all ten thousand acres but showed them his favorite parts of it. On the western side of the property, about five miles behind the main house and separated from it by dense trees, they got out of the Jeep and hiked down to an offshoot of the Arkansas River that cut through a shallow ravine.

  This was one of Cade’s favorite spots. The pine and cedar trees stretching out over the water on either side kept it cool even in the height of summer, providing the prettiest and most peaceful spot on the ranch. Ally and Dylan were excited with everything Cade showed them. It surprised him how happy their reaction made him.

  He’d loved this land since he was old enough to recognize it. He remembered his life here until the age of eleven like some kind of dream world—he didn’t remember ever being unhappy, or scared, or sad, or his parents arguing, or anything bad at all ever happening. He knew it wasn’t so, of course. The MacDougalls had been a normal, albeit wealthy and very happy, family. They had had problems like anyone else. But because the events of his eleventh summer were so horrific, everything that went before tasted impossibly sweet in his memory.

  When he’d returned fifteen years ago, to find Sindri and Shawn living in the main house while the cabins and outbuildings crumbled around them, he knew he’d never leave again.

  Screams of laughter startled him. He’d just run the passenger side of the Wrangler through a big patch of muddy water, drenching Ally. Wet and dirty for the second day in a row, she laughed it off.

  So did Dylan, perched in the backseat. “Dude, you totally soaked her! That was so awesome!”

  “Don’t ever call me dude. But you’re right, that was pretty awesome.”

  “Did you do that on purpose?” Ally shrieked.

  “No, I swear.” He almost managed not to laugh as he said it.

  The sun wouldn’t set for a few hours, but the temperature had dropped. She shivered.

  “Dylan. You said you wanted to run, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Strip off and give your shirt to Ally. You can get back to the house on four feet.
”

  “Cool!”

  He threw his clothes to Ally. Minutes later, furry, he bounded away.

  Cade looked at Ally. “Damn. He changes almost as fast as I do.”

  “Dec and Seth couldn’t believe how fast he does it in broad daylight. I don’t think he’s finished growing yet.”

  The stronger the wolf, the faster and less painful the change, and the less vulnerable he was to changing against his will. Alphas as powerful as Cade could change at any time and could resist the change under duress.

  “Turn around,” Ally said.

  He turned his back and waited ’til she said “Okay.” When he turned back, she was out of her wet T-shirt and into Dylan’s much larger one. She rolled her shirt up—and bra? Yep, she’d taken her bra off—and threw them in the backseat.

  He needed to get to Denver in a hurry.

  “Now. Can we check out that swimming pool?”

  “Fine with me, ma’am.”

  After a few minutes of driving in companionable silence, she said, “Can I ask you something personal without pissing you off?”

  “What the hell do you care? Pissing me off doesn’t bother you much.”

  “It does too! I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.” Her ponytail was coming loose, strands of dark blond hair whipping across her face. Her cheeks were rosy from the wind and her eyes still shone with glee. She smelled of lavender and sweat, and he’d swear he could smell happiness on her as well. He wanted to put his face to the back of her neck and inhale her.

  This had to stop.

  “Oh, all right,” he grumbled. “Ask.”

  “Okay.” She paused a minute, choosing her words. “When you get mad at me for arguing with you, or the way I talk to you—is it because you’re a Pack Alpha or because I’m a woman?”

  “It’s both,” he said carefully. “I’m not used to women arguing with me, and I can’t remember the last time someone told me to shut up.” And he couldn’t understand why it hadn’t made him angrier—that kind of defiance would normally trip all his alpha wires.