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

by Kinsey W. Holley

  “That’s too awful to think about.” She felt a stomachache coming on. “But…he did leave Michael in charge. Everything’s under control, and Cade didn’t have to leave Denver, and the meeting went well. So…”

  “You’re right. And just like with Sarah Jane—if Michael explains all that before Cade rips his throat out, all’s grand. The two have been best friends for twenty-five years. That counts for a lot. But if Michael can’t explain, or Cade won’t listen… It could be bloody. And this pack couldn’t handle something like that right now.”

  “Why?”

  Dec appeared to consider his next words carefully. “A pack feeds off its leaders’ emotions. Joy, anger, fear—everything flows out of the Alpha to his second, to the other alphas and then to the betas. Rocky Mountain’s thrived, even without recognition, because Cade and Michael and the lesser alphas are strong leaders. But if Cade feels his family is threatened, and he loses faith in Michael, and the two of them go fang to fang—Christ. Louis’ murder destroyed the old pack, and it happened four thousand miles away. The psychological backdraft drove half of them crazy and turned the other half against each other. If Cade and his second fall out at a time like this, it could be just as bad.”

  Ally’s spine was frozen now. “Dec, maybe the wolves told you how long Cade and Michael have been friends—”

  “Michael told me,” he said smoothly. “He likes me. He tells me everything.”

  “Maybe. But I don’t think Michael told you all about Louis MacDougall and the old pack. And I don’t believe you read it all on the Web. On the drive up here, you kept calling Cade by his first name and talking about stuff like you remembered it.”

  He rocked slowly, eyes closed.

  She could barely whisper her next question. “How well did you know Eirny and Louis MacDougall?”

  He opened his eyes. “I never met Louis. I never met Carson or Cade, but I followed their lives. I knew Eirny well. Very well.”

  She’d expected him to laugh her off. Having it confirmed so bluntly shocked her.

  “Is that why you like Cade? Because he reminds you of Eirny?”

  He shook his head sadly. “Cade looks like her, but he’s his father inside out. No. Carson took after Eirny. That’s why he’s dead.” He was staring out across the fields again. “Cade got past his parents’ murder, but Carson never did. He was okay as long as he was in the army. Once he lost that structure, he fell apart. Eventually the drugs and the drink did him in.”

  “Were Carson and Eirny weak?” She couldn’t imagine that of a Valkyrie’s acolyte.

  “Eirny wasn’t weak, she was…heedless. Undisciplined. She gave herself over to whatever she felt, or wanted, and never stopped to think about consequences. I think Carson was the same way. More feeling than thinking. Cade’s not like that.”

  “How’d you know Eirny?” She sat riveted there on the step, not daring to move for fear of dispelling the mood. But apparently it was already over.

  “I don’t think I want to talk about it right now, darlin’. And I don’t want you telling Cade anything about it either. I’m trusting you not to.”

  “Why?”

  His gaze returned to her face, and his emerald eyes bored into hers. “Why? Because I’ve been your friend for years, and I’ve been a good one. Because I’ve never asked you to keep a secret, and because I’ve kept your secrets without being asked.”

  “What secrets, Dec?” she whispered.

  “Ally, darlin’. You’ve never explained your youthfulness. Or why you never get sick, never bruise or hurt yourself. You hear things you shouldn’t hear, see things you shouldn’t be able to see. Don’t get me wrong, you’re careful. Usually. If I didn’t live with you, I’d never notice. If I didn’t live with you, I’d never have seen you lift the entertainment center with one hand. Now, I’ve heard of mothers who manage to lift cars off their children, but no one gets that kind of adrenaline rush from vacuuming the den. I’ve never asked you about it, have I?”

  She was getting chilled again. “I guess we’ve both been a little dishonest.”

  “We’re not dishonest. We’re circumspect.” He flashed his normal grin, but it didn’t reassure her.

  “Wait a minute, Dec.” She spoke slowly as her mind raced ahead of her words. “Now I’m thinking—the stuff you’ve done for us, it didn’t come out of nowhere, did it? Like when you thought Dylan should go to Scotland. The MacDougalls are Scottish. And you’re the one who suggested we send Dylan’s DNA to the databank. You already knew who his father was, didn’t you? How, Dec? How’d you connect Dylan and Carson? There’s still a lot you’re not telling me, isn’t there?”

  “And there’s a lot you haven’t told me. I’ve never asked about the Dane, or why we left Texas in such a hurry.”

  Wait. She was supposed to be grilling him.

  “You didn’t like me at first, you remember that?”

  She nodded, though the non sequitur confused her.

  “You were reluctant to let me move in. Seth, who never does anything without thinking about it a few months, liked me right away. Which is what I’m accustomed to, tell the truth. You ever wonder why it took you longer?”

  She shook her head.

  “Well, I have. You are not what you appear to be, my Wendy, but I still trust you. You trust me?”

  She was thinking about that when they heard a car coming up the main road far too fast. Scant seconds passed from when it turned off the highway to when it came flying around the last bend, screeching to a halt in a tornado of gravel. The driver threw himself out of the car.

  It was Cade, of course. He hadn’t spent the two hour drive absorbing and adjusting to Michael’s information.

  Rage twisted his beautiful face as he ran toward the house. Dec stepped down from the porch into Cade’s path, presumably in order to— What? Commit suicide by Alpha? What the hell was Dec thinking?

  Cade didn’t stop to find out. He vaulted the steps onto the porch, sending Dec flying with a dismissive flick of the wrist. Dec went over the porch railing and caromed off the swing set into the grass in front of Becca’s little trampoline.

  Cade slammed the door behind him with such force it should’ve splintered on its hinges. But this house was made to hold, and withstand, werewolves.

  She was glad she’d left Becca in her grandmother’s cabin. As she listened to Cade bellowing at Michael, she realized he was too enraged to think about his daughter sleeping upstairs. It would be safest to stay outside, preferably farther away. But in the rashest move she’d made since facing down Guy Fontenot, Ally followed Cade into the house.

  What the hell was she thinking?

  Chapter Fourteen

  She stopped at the entrance to the living room. The wolves weren’t there, but she heard them.

  “Where the fuck is she? What do you mean letting her in my house with my daughter? What has she seen?”

  “She’s staying in the cabin. Cade, I told you on the phone, everything’s fine, Ally’s looking after Becca, Sarah Jane likes her, the wolves have stayed scarce…” Michael was speaking almost too fast to be understood.

  “Why didn’t you call me, goddamn it?”

  “I talked it over with Sindri. He thought—”

  “Sindri’s not my second! I didn’t leave him in charge!”

  “Cade, I decided Ally had it covered, Becca was fine and Sarah Jane…”

  “You think you know what’s best for my girl?”

  Cade’s voice sounded guttural. Ally realized with a shock that he’d started to change. He either couldn’t stop it or didn’t want to. An Alpha as powerful as Cade, changing in a rage… Oh God, Dec was right.

  Stay, or run like hell? It didn’t matter—just like that day at the pool, her legs wouldn’t move.

  They emerged from the west wing of the house, Cade moving in long, angry strides with Michael behind him.

  The change slowed Cade down. He couldn’t run like he had a minute ago. She caught a glimpse of his face when
he made a sharp turn to go upstairs.

  The unfamiliar expression on Dec’s face had given her chills. Cade’s expression froze the blood in her veins.

  Michael stopped at the bottom step as Cade went up the staircase.

  He was headed for Becca’s room.

  She moved her lips, but no sound came out. Just as she tried again, Cade roared, “Michael, where’s Becca?”

  “With Sarah Jane,” she croaked.

  Michael stared at her, aghast. Cade leaned over the railing, noticing her presence for the first time. The physical change had not begun in earnest, but the musky odor of a changing wolf hung heavy in the air. His eyes were rimmed with yellow, his breathing rapid and shallow as he stood utterly still with a white-knuckle grip on the railing.

  “What did you say, Allison?” Cade’s quiet tone felt far more menacing than his roaring.

  Her voice came out in a terrified squeak. “I said she— She’s in Sarah Jane’s cabin. They get along so well, and she likes…” For the second time that evening, she remembered the night she died. Once more she was throwing herself in front of a maddened wolf, but this time she wasn’t the only one who could stop him—that was Michael’s damned job. So why was she here?

  Michael said, “I’ll go get Bec—”

  “No,” Cade cut him off. “I’ll go.” He cleared the loft railing in one fluid leap, dropping straight down to land on his feet in front of them.

  He was panting, though not from exertion. His black T-shirt, wet with sweat, clung to his torso. His face had assumed a saturnine cast, wet curls plastered to his forehead. His eyes weren’t yet fully yellow, but the pupils had narrowed and elongated as the change set in.

  Before she even knew she was doing it, Ally jumped in front of him, put her hands on his chest and began pushing him back. A voice in the back of her head kept screaming, Are you insane? Run this time! Run! She barely heard it over the sound of Michael’s voice and her own, babbling simultaneously.

  “Cade, you can’t go out there like this! You’ll change before you get there and you’ll rip someone to pieces. Becca will see you…” Her voice climbed ever higher, into the Really Scared register.

  “Ally, get out of here. I’ll handle this. I won’t let him leave, but you can’t be here…” Michael said, without making any move to pull her away from Cade.

  “If you kill Sarah Jane—God, Cade, the cops! They’ll take Becca, they’ll pump you with silver…” She grunted with effort as Cade leaned harder against her hands, clearly perplexed that she’d stopped his forward motion.

  He stared at her, bemused, pushing against her as she pushed against him. She held him in place a whole five seconds. You couldn’t judge a werewolf’s strength by his physical size. Cade was six-three and looked to weigh about two-twenty, all of it lean muscle. Even with her strength, trying to push him back felt like pushing against a boulder rolling downhill. He had far more force and weight behind him than the eye could see.

  His strength terrified and excited her. By now it came as no surprise to find she reveled in the contact with him, even as she feared imminent dismemberment. He moved slowly forward, pushing her back an inch at a time, like in a cartoon. Maybe if she let go, he’d fall over.

  She glanced back to see Michael still rooted to the spot in front of the stairs, watching Cade with some concern but no apparent intention of intervening.

  “What the hell are you?” Cade asked hoarsely.

  “Scared,” she replied, turning back to look him in the face.

  He jerked to a stop and she banged into him, her head thunking against his chest. His big hands grasped her at the waist. He picked her up as if she weighed nothing at all, holding her there, her head level with his and her feet dangling.

  She clutched at his shoulders to steady herself and couldn’t help squeezing a little, testing the hard muscles. The urge to press her tongue to his skin returned, so strong her mouth watered. She could almost taste him as she breathed deep, inhaling his sweet, wild scent. She closed her eyes and put her head back, Cade-drugged, her self-control a whisper away from shattering. Her whole body trembled and she couldn’t stop it.

  “You’re scared of me, Ally?” He still spoke in that low, deadly tone, but his voice was a shade clearer than moments ago.

  “Oh hell yeah,” she muttered.

  Cade didn’t take his eyes off her. “Michael. Get out.”

  She heard the door slam and tried to yell “Stop! Take me with you!” but couldn’t get the words out.

  Cade pulled her closer. She gasped at the hot breath on her neck. Maybe she could break his hold if she tried, but arousal now competed with fear. She hesitated to move, so strong was the urge to wrap her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his waist.

  “I could never hurt you. No more than I could Becca.” She shivered at his voice in her ear. If she turned her head, she’d meet his mouth. His voice was definitely clearer now.

  She couldn’t hold still like this much longer, but he showed no sign of releasing her. He held her, rubbing his face against her shoulder, then her neck, then back to her shoulder.

  “Cade, what are you…?” She gasped again as his lips brushed her shoulder. “Cade, are you sniffing me?”

  He growled as he nuzzled her neck. “I like your smell. I hated taking a shower in Denver because I wanted to smell you. I wanted the other wolves to smell you on me.”

  Those words, in that voice, through those lips against her skin, left her breathless and shaking as a wave of hot, liquid desire washed through her.

  A little moan escaped her. She slid her fingers through his hair as she’d ached to do, pressing his head deeper into her neck. Giving up, giving in, she wrapped her legs around his waist as she laid her cheek against his head. She didn’t resist when he shifted his grip to her bottom. His hot hands warmed her through the thin cotton sundress and soaking wet panties.

  “Thank you, Ally.”

  “For what?” Her voice trembled as badly as the rest of her.

  “For stopping me. For saving me.”

  “Do you—” damn, even her voice trembled “—do you want me to go get Michael now?”

  He laughed against her neck. “I don’t need Michael,” he rasped. “I need your throat.”

  She tensed. “What?”

  “Your throat, Allison. Give it to me.”

  The ultimate expression of submission—offering your throat to a wolf. She shouldn’t want to lose herself in him like this. She shouldn’t want to submit. “Cade, I can’t…”

  He pulled her tighter against his body, his erection straining against his jeans, pressing against her core.

  “Now, Ally,” he groaned against her neck, and her body responded before her mind could object.

  She threw her head back, her hands still tangled in his silky hair. Then his mouth was at her neck, hot and wet and open, his tongue licking fire along her veins as he trailed greedy kisses to the hollow of her throat. He nipped at her collarbone and licked the sting away. His teeth and tongue glided gently across her jaw, and she shuddered at the rough caress of his beard against her skin. Her whole body ached for that caress, for every inch to burn beneath his kisses.

  “Cade, kiss me,” she implored.

  He did, and any last resistance crumbled to ashes when she abandoned herself to the fire he’d started. His tongue demanded, she surrendered, and her arms tightened around his neck as he kissed her stupid. She couldn’t think and didn’t want to, didn’t want anything but his mouth and his hands and his body on hers.

  She whimpered in frustration when Cade broke the kiss, but he ran his tongue lightly across her bottom lip, gently sucking it. She sighed and put her hands on his face so he couldn’t take his mouth away again. Scattering kisses across his cheek to his ear, she smiled in primal triumph when he shuddered, groaning her name.

  She’d never been drunk on a man’s touch. She’d never been with a man stronger than her, a man with whom she could shed all restraint.
<
br />   Maybe she’d needed a wolf all along.

  She moaned and wriggled at the sudden motion of his hips between her legs. Her sanity feebly attempted to assert itself as she realized they were headed for his bedroom.

  This was a mistake. She had to stay out of his bed. Didn’t she?

  Reluctantly lifting her head, she cupped his face in her hands. His eyes were liquid green once more.

  “Cade,” she murmured, stroking his jaw and watching raptly as he turned his head to plant open-mouthed kisses in her palms. Then his lips returned to the hollow of her throat and she almost went under for good.

  “Cade,” she pleaded again. “Wait. We have to stop.”

  “Why?” he murmured against her throat. “What’s the matter, baby?”

  It wasn’t just the baby that stopped her heart. It was the tenderness with which he said it. This wolf, so powerful and dominant, so hard with wanting her, so carelessly capable of taking her against her will, had told the truth. He wouldn’t hurt her. Her body and her mind urged submission, but there was no threat of harm.

  “I… I don’t…” She forced him to look at her as she tried to speak coherently. “I don’t do this. I don’t… I’ve never gone to bed with a guy I barely know…” She trailed off, embarrassed.

  That slow, rakish, arrogant smile, the one that weakened her knees and moistened her panties, reappeared as he said in a low growl, “It’s okay. You’ll never do it again.”

  She had no idea what to say to that, wasn’t even sure what he meant. “Cade…”

  “Allison,” he said against her mouth, “take your hair down.” Holding her effortlessly with one arm, he slipped his other hand inside her panties, his thumb skimming the smooth cleft of her butt while his palm squeezed her cheek. She moaned and bucked against him.

  They were in his room. He kicked the door closed.

  Sanity gave a shrug and called it a night.

  She burned hot from the inside out, like someone had left a light on in her chest. She tugged the clip loose, letting her hair tumble into his face as she stared at him, dazed with wanting.