"Okay,” he said with a confused look. "Where to?"
"Bus station."
"Okay." He looked once more at me, concern in his warm, brown eyes, before turning forward and driving away. He left me in peace, and I was thankful for that.
I watched my building shrink and disappear behind us, my life with it. The streets were lined with familiar buildings, with the familiar bustle of city life. I had only spent three years in Elkston, but I had made friends, had my own place, and had taken three years of college classes. I closed that chapter of my life, sooner than I had intended. I said no goodbyes, and had no idea what would come next. I sank back into the seat and let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. Tears streamed down my cheeks, as I repeated to myself: inhale deeply, exhale slowly.
Running to the Pack: Chapter Two
Cole
I kept the damned florescent lights in my office to a minimum, sitting as close to the window as the desk allowed. Even as the sun lowered in the sky I preferred the natural light, or lack thereof. Dense trees clustered behind the glass. A mix of softwoods, from tall and slender lodgepole pines to the reddish-brown western larchs, coated the sharp inclines surrounding the town of Sawtooth Peaks. Yellow needles blended among the sea of evergreen and brought the colors of autumn to the otherwise verdant landscape. The yellow sky mirrored the forest floor, mixed with oranges and pinks, a swirl of color that promised the day would soon be at an end.
At work I surrounded myself with deep, rich, wooden furniture inside the office, a change I made when I inherited Sawtooth Den. I added forest green cushions, with pillows, curtains, and flooring all in natural creams, greys, and browns. My legacy in linens. It helped make time at work a bit more bearable, a bit more like where I should have been—outside. Tilting my head back I finished the last of my coffee, wishing it was something stronger.
"But Cole," she purred, full lips open, eyelids heavy as she looked at me through mascara drenched eyelashes. Callie laid it on thick. Hands on the front edge of my desk, she bent at the hip to be sure I got a clear view of her overflowing breasts in her low-cut tank. Her hips swayed slowly behind her, displaying her submission to me. Anyone who walked by my office would see her perky ass up in the air, barely covered in tiny shorts.
A growl rumbled in my chest, my inner wolf pleased to take her up on her unspoken invitation. I ignored my animal side. I brushed a hand through my black hair, taking a moment to admire the view. She was a lovely female, with long, blond hair. A bit thin for my tastes, but pleasant curves where she had them. The essence of autumn mingled with her natural scent: crisp mountain air, freshly fallen leaves, lingering moisture from the morning's rain. She must have been out running in the morning. I longed to do the same.
"We've been through this, Callie." Callie slid a finger between her full, red-stained lips, gliding her tongue around its tip. Moving slowly downward, her fingers traced her neck. Her head tipped to the side, exposing the moist trail of her finger down her neck. Not just an invitation for a good fuck. An invitation to claim her. Her hand rested on her breast, where she lingered and squeezed.
"Mmm," she moaned. "I could give you a big litter of beautiful cubs."
"You should go," I said, my voice low and even. It wasn’t a bad offer, a beautiful woman and a beautiful wolf. But one thing my wolf side and my human side agreed on, she would not be my mate. Callie gave me one last pouty lip as she stood slowly, pressing her chest out at me. She turned and walked away, swaying her hips to make sure I knew what I was missing out on.
A knock on the open door and my half-brother stuck his head in, his eyes following Callie as she left. "Damn, man," he smiled as he strolled into my office. He sank into the evergreen-cushioned pine chair across from my desk and propped his feet on top of my paperwork. I sighed in response but he ignored me. "I would love to get me some of that ass."
"Help yourself," I grumbled, swatting his feet off.
"I would man, but it's always you. The ladies love your big, dark, brooding giant look.” He gestured a hand up and down at me. “Man and beast," he said with a smirk. My brother, the only one in the pack that I could spend time with without the constant reminder of my responsibilities, was a good-looking wolf himself. I got my dark hair from my mother, but large size and hard features from our father. Lance was a male version of his mother, smooth and graceful with short, silver hair as a human, and a matching silver coat as a wolf. His sharp blue eyes and devious smile spoke to his personality. It was impossible to look at that grin and not know he would show you a good time. She-wolves and human women threw themselves at him, wanting exactly that. As the eldest son of the last alpha and the largest wolf in our pack, it was assumed I would be the next alpha. So more often than not, propositions to me were by she-wolves looking to be my mate, for life. I carried the burden of being next in line while Lance enjoyed life, something I loved about him and wished I could manage to do myself.
“You do just fine,” I said. A smile spread across my face, inevitable in his company. “I seem to remember a set of golden-haired triplets not so long ago.”
“Oooh, yeah, the Hawthorne sisters. That was a fun couple of days while their pack was passing through.”
“It would have been more fun for me if I didn't find the three of them all over you. On my desk.” We shared a laugh, and I enjoyed the distraction from my work.
“Well, I should be heading out. I'm taking the new girl to dinner. The one with the red hair.” He gave me a wink as he stood and started toward the door.
“Shea.”
“Hmm?” He asked, looking away and clearly not listening.
“Her name is Shea,” I said.
“Thanks, bro!” Lance gave me a wave then put his hands in his jean pockets as he strolled out the door.
I looked down at the mountain of papers on my desk, and returned to entering expense amounts from receipts into the spreadsheet on my laptop. I knew keeping the books was a good way to learn the ins and outs of our family business. Owning half of the business kept me interested in its success, but I didn’t really care about the details. I was more interested in the scout reports from wolves in the field, but it was all still paperwork. All I could think about was getting out of my office, out of the bar, and into the fresh fall air. The more time I spent in this room, the more suffocated I felt, but duty first.
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About the Author
Reader of books. Watcher of Netflix. Sketcher of doodles. Mother of dragons. No. Wait. Mother of sweet little boys.
Keira Blackwood writes steamy paranormal romance full of suspense, action, and a dash of humor. No cheating. No cliffhangers. Always a happily-ever-after ending.
www.keirablackwood.com
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Pierced Page 14